Monday, October 25, 2004

Update - Part II

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In the midst of yesterday's rant I forgot to mention what I've been up to for the past couple of weeks.
I got a job! I've been working part time at a coffee shop/cafe.
Some benefits of this job are daily interactions with rich men, some young but most are over 40. Before I received my first paycheck I realized that standing on my feet for five hours at a time and serving people does not agree with me. I quit on Thursday and thanks to this venture into the workforce I left with several business cards from eligible men and can now afford my winter purse.
Last night wasn't a complete waste. Shortly after I posted, I received a phone call from a young man I met at the cafe. Raj is a 26 year old who runs an IT employment agency; he had a privileged childhood and attended a top tier college. Although he is educated he has the maturity of an 18 year old boy, among his interests are gambling, strip clubs and "shagging"(yes he actually said it!). He also has a bad habit of name dropping and brags about his possessions. After a lengthy discussion of his luxury cars and the strippers who want to date him, I found myself indulging him then tactfully changing the subject.
He is so very easy to handle and not quite the challenge I usually look for - he's somewhat of a geek(which is ok because I'm a geek too) who is trying way too hard, he reminds me of my little brother.
Shall I give him a try? After a series of failed attempts to date older and presumably "mature" men, I'm giving this a significant amount of consideration.
I'm also thinking of limiting my sugar daddy search to men over 50, and if they happen to be looking for a "just a friend with benefits" I will kindly refer them to the escorts section in the yellow pages.

Sunday, October 24, 2004

Pissed Off

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I'm sitting here all dressed up with nowhere to go. The date I had set for tonight canceled on me last minute in an impolite manner. On Friday we made plans to meet at a fancy restaurant by my house tonight. But yesterday I called him and suggested somewhere more casual because I couldn't find anything suitable to wear. Well, today I called him a total of 3 times and emailed him before I got any response. He sent me this email --

I got your message Tiffany but I don't know that we really have much in
common. I am not comfortable with someone who doesn't leave a number
and I suspect that I am really just looking for a friend with benefits.
Tom

---end of email---

You suspect you're just looking for a fuck buddy? How can you be 42 and unsure of what you want? He's so full of it. I always called him private and not once did he ask for my number, which I would not have given anyway since I don't give my number to anonymous men I've never met in person.
Maybe I give off the girlfriend material vibe because this is the second time I've heard "I'm just looking for a friend with benefits" in two weeks. The first was a young cocky guy who lives out of state, I wasn't interested then and I'm certainly not interested now. I have no problem with the man looking for casual sex but he should have made that clear early on so I didn't waste my time.
When I called him back to respond he didn't pick up, what a coward.

There has been a lesson learned here, I must be blunt with all future men I chat with online; make them understand that I am NOT looking for a "friend with benefits"(this seems to be the preferred term for the over 30 crowd).
I truly doubt decent men who want a long term relationship are looking for quality women online. It would be a better idea to simply try to meet men at coffee shops and happy hours but I don't have to wear makeup and pumps to send an email.

Friday, October 15, 2004

The Roof is on Fire!

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I apologize profusely for the delay, my house almost burned down.
On Saturday Michael and I alternated binge drinking and sex. By the time he left I was toasted. Suddenly, I had the taste for stir fried vegetables(oily blackened carrots and broccoli of all things, what am I PREGNANT?). I placed a skillet with a drizzle of olive oil on the stove. Ok, more than a "drizzle", closer to 15 tablespoons. I pushed the knob to high with the intention of returning to my vegetables in a couple of minutes. I plopped down on the living room couch and hit play - Man on the Roof was my selection for the night.
Fatigue from a busy day and 3 vodka cocktails swiftly set in, 30 seconds later I was out like a light. I awakened to my sister screaming, "TIFF, THE FUCKING HOUSE IS ON FIRE!!!" The smell of smoke permeated my nostrils and deposited a thick layer of soot - then I noticed blaring fire alarm. My house was burning while I slept absentmindedly. Was this a dream? Please God let this be a dream.
"If wishes were horses then beggars would ride."
My reflexes kicked in. I found my way to the kitchen through the dense smoke and there I confronted the angry flames spewing from the cupboards above the microwave and licking the ceiling. I ran to the laundry room to procure a large bucket which I never found. Grabbing the nearest midsized container in desperation - a homedics foot spa - I filled it with water from the laundry room basin. Making a mad dash to the kitchen I threw the contents on the fire, the defeated flames emitted a loud TSSSSSST. I rushed back to the laundry room to continue my fight against the diminishing inferno. After 9 trips back and forth I won the battle, the fire was out! My victory dance was cut short by my asthmatic reaction to the smoke. I joined my sister outside reassuring her that the fire was out "but fluffy's still inside!" she said. We took one look at each other, held our breaths and sprinted back in for the family cat. A frightened fluffy slowly crawled out from under the couch where he was hiding when we called for him. Once again we found our way outside where we called the fire department to make sure the fire was out; they informed me that I could have cause the fire to spread if a drop oil had been in the pan.

To cut an insanely long story short, we're moving into temporary housing for a month or two. And since our house isn't "livable" according to the insurance agents, here we are in a hotel awaiting information on furnished apartments.



Thank you for saving my house

Saturday, October 09, 2004

Update

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My sugar daddy search has been coming around quite nicely. So far, I have 4 potential boyfriends who are all mature and established. In the next couple of days I will talk with them all on the phone and update you.

I'm currently reading The Art of Seduction by Robert Greene. It's a lovely book, really. But it's so.. t e d i o u s. There are many stories of infamous seducers. I've been attempting to read it for the past two months! Between my schoolwork and self-help books, it has become more of a chore than leisure reading. Many of the so-called tips in the book were common sense to me. Those with short attention spans, beware.

While researching how to approach men I ran across the most absurd little website. There's a section on How to Date Younger Women. I can't relocate the site, promise to post it tomorrow.

Michael's coming over in about.. now :)

I'm gonna get laid tonight *dancing*

Wednesday, October 06, 2004

Beautiful Sunset

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Michael and I went out on Friday night. Feeling a little down after dredging up repressed memories, I needed a pick me up. Besides he's been begging for a chance to take me out.

My relationship with Joe left me emotionally numb. Intentionally seeking out the most arrogant men, I would use them up and run away like a thief in the night, with their hearts in my back pocket.
Then I met him. Wherever I ran he'd follow until I became exhausted. I surrendered and opened myself up to him. Trusted.. only to be let down when he didn't live up to my unachievable expectations.
Michael is only 25, currently enrolled in medical school and plans to pursue a political career in the future. With his plate overflowing with responsibilities, time for extracurricular activities are limited, which is the main reason we're not together. Plus I got sick of his shit, he unintentionally plays games. When I don't want him, he pops in for surprise visits and tells me he loves me. When I feel like I can't live without him, he "needs his space" and isn't ready for a commitment.
But physically he's stunning, tall with piercing green eyes and a bronze chiseled body. When I need great sex Michael is my first choice.

We went to a new nightclub in yuppieville. It had a NYC vibe without the bad attitudes and drag queens. Merengue was playing downstairs accompanied by a live drummer. Upstairs was the main dance floor and your average top 40 dj.
Not sure how many drinks I had, he was buying and I wasn't counting. We ended up on the dance floor with drunken smiles on our faces. His hands on my breasts. My hand on his cock. Gyrating to the music pounding from the speakers behind us, putting on a free show, oblivious to the world. Good times.

When we left the club I was ready to jump his bones so we snuck into the abandoned lot next door.
He insisted on going down on me, which I have no patience for. It's wonderful if you enjoy it but it just makes me horny and impatient. When it was my turn to reciprocate I barely had him in my mouth before he slipped the condom on (apparently he had just gotten a check up and he wanted to wait for his results before any fluid to fluid interaction, isn't he thoughtful?). To make things more interesting we went outside and he sat on the hood of the car. I climbed on top in my favorite position riding his dick until we came together in the parking lot of Mcdonald. Classy. He pointed out that I used him for sex. I laughed, "so what?" That's all I remember until he dropped me off at home; where I peed in the bushes before stumbling loudly inside and passing out in bed.

And so, the vicious cycle continues.
I will always love him unconditionally but I must be practical.
He does not have the time and I do not have the patience to wait.



The sunset tonight - taken with my camera phone

Monday, October 04, 2004

I wanna get married!

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I'm sick of dating.

I'm sick of going to smoky bars and coming home smelling like an ashtray.
I'm sick of grubby strangers who've had a little too much to drink.
I'm sick of pounding bass and electronic music.

I'm sick of answering corny e-mails with questions like "Did you fall out of heaven?"
I'm sick of yahoo personals
I'm sick of anybody who types "asl?"
I'm sick of being asked for more pictures

I just wanna get married!
Or live comfortably with my rich boyfriend at the least.
:)

Friday, October 01, 2004

Moving on

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I have moved on with my active search for a sugar daddy. I placed an ad in the personals today, my third time. I don't understand why a sophisticated ad like mine gets responses from mainly electricians and plumbers. This time I took a simpler route by describing my appearance in more detail and deleting a long winded sentence. I also joined two dating websites that target the affluent.

By the way, I'm quite good looking(attempt at being modest) in case any of you were wondering. 5'5 120 lbs. athletic body and real 36d breasts.

So why don't I have a stable of sugar daddies?
I read somewhere that the sugar baby has to take the initiative and make the first move. It's difficult to drum up conversation with a complete stranger because I'm used to having men approach me. And the older gentlemen may be intimidated. Plus, I'm just a little shy. I smile at them and show them I'm interested but they rarely make the move. What's a girl to do?

Step 1 - Look up advice on approaching men

Step 2 - Use a new one each day
This is going to be so much fun!

Dancing Banana