Finally

I was screaming inside but my face bore a rigid half smile. For the first time, I was meeting a gentleman I had been corresponding with extensively over the internet. His pictures were grossly misrepresented. The man I met was short and stocky with a regressing hairline and a belly that hung over his belt. He claimed he was 38 but looked closer to 50. He made me uncomfortable by asking many personal questions, such as the major crossroads by my house, where I went to highschool and my exact date of birth; to which I gave false answers.
When an older mentions my age in practically every conversation we have, it means he's uncomfortable with it. But if he associates me in any way to "barely legal teens" then he's a hardcore pervert of the pedophilic variety.
Maybe I'm exacerbating his flaws because I'm not the least bit attracted to him. So I have continued my communication with him and he's only gotten even more creepy. I can't put my finger on it, but something is definitely awry and I'm not sticking around to find out what.

I did go out with Raj. It was a Tuesday night and he decided the casino would be the best location for our first date. We first went to a working class casino to meet a couple of his friends who owed him money. When we got there we ordered at a restaurant and after receiving a call from his friends he left before the food came. Upon his arrival at our table he explained the situation to me; the men he had to meet weren't really his friends, they were simply "delivery men" that worked for the underground operation to which he loaned $100,000 so he wouldn't have to pay exorbitant taxes. A generous 20% interest rate was the agreement, so every other week he would meet these seedy goliaths who will hand him $6,000 until the entirety is delivered. On our way to a more upscale casino, he had me take the stacks of money out of their paper bands and count the money to make sure it was all there. Once more I have been proven wrong; there are worse places to meet a man than the internet.

So Liz has decided to end her search for a sugar daddy. I can't blame her, sometimes I get sick of constantly being on the look out for rich men. I spend two hours everyday grooming myself! Liz's decision caused me to re-evaluate my reasons for looking for a sugar daddy. It came down to this - how badly do I want it? Is it worth spending hours daily on maintenance alone? Could I really be happy with a man old enough to be my father? Yes, yes and yes! You see, by being meticulously preened and fabulous at all times I give up nothing. I love coordinating my outfits, getting manicures/pedicures and especially shopping. I love all these things with or without the benefit of meeting rich men(preferably with). Looking my best gives me a high because I am a perfectionist to the core and nothing less will do. Besides, if I was married to a rich man I would be carrying on the same.

We're now in a furnished house that had an old stench when we moved in but is now comfortable and lacks only a working phone line. Hence, I haven't been able to post as often as I would like to and must now resort to the public library as my only link to the internet. Please forgive the delay.

PS: I want to thank Sarong Party Girl for linking me. By the way if you aren't familiar with her blog please visit, it's delicious.