Trust in Your Journey – Part I

Four years of higher education landed me a job at a local deli where I was hired on the spot because the staff “liked my look.”

Five days a week I arrived (most of the time late) for a 7 a.m. shift. On a Tuesday, Jack Johnson played softly in the background as I set up the bagels in the front display case. I grabbed a plastic tub with two industrial sized sticks of butter and stuck it in the microwave. Three large loaves of Italian bread from Lakewood Bakery were placed on the cutting board before me, I slathered each loaf with a generous (yet not too generous) glob of softened butter. I hacked away at the bread with a sawing knife and wrapped the pieces up individually in cling wrap.

During the lunch rush one of the women who “ran the books” entered the restaurant area and watched as I stuck a piece of buttered bread on a business man’s red serving tray. I felt her staring at me. She reached a skinny, tanned hand into the basket of bread and lifted one up, she shook the bread in her fist as she uttered each syllable.

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When Reality Strikes

A voice, a non existent mystery; facial features, a 2D image viewed on a cell phone; height and build, not a way to tell.

Typed font on a little blue lit screen. Two weeks of build up – life, family, careers, Manhattan – day in, day out, for 14 days.

“Are you on the train?”

“How was your day today?”

“How is your night going?”

“Have any fun plans for the weekend?”

Face-to-face with a live human being who moves, speaks, breathes – a sly smile here, intense eye contact, lively hand gestures engrossed in conversation.

Two strangers connect to one another with senses that experience real things.

Thoughts buzz – Did I talk too much? Did I bore him, do we “get” one another?, What does he think of me? Do I smell? Am I annoying? Does he find me as attractive in person as he did when he liked the 2D photo of me?

Have I told him far too many intimate details of my day to day life, nothing left to say and nothing left to guess, no mystery, no interest, no spark, nothing in common, defunct attraction …

The fleshy realness of another human being. An alcohol infused evening, in bed by midnight on a Thursday.  The night ends. Silence from the other end.

Time, effort, suspense – a lovely evening puffs into thin air like it never happened.

A Review of Dates From Coffee Meets Bagel

CMB

Coffee Meets Bagel (CMB) claims to be all about “quality over quantity” matching you with one bagel at noon each day. If you and your bagel both hit “like” on one another you will be connected for exactly 7 days. If the conversation flows you may end up meeting them IRL (in real life). If the texting is infrequent the line expires and they fade off into the Online Dating Abyss.

CMB wants to create meaningful connections which will hopefully lead to a long-term relationship. This is advertised as an ideal app for women. I will say that all of the men I have met from CMB have led to second and sometimes third dates and most of them were looking for a relationship. That does not mean all of them were right for me or that all of them were sane.

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Here is Why I Will Never Touch Tinder Again

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The First Time

It was January. We met at a hotel bar for a drink. When I first laid eyes on him I thought he was arrogant. He led the way to our table with his hand pointed in the air. I looked at him and all I could think was, “No, no, no.”

He was strange. The lighting wasn’t the best so I could barely make out his face. He kept pulling these faces that looked like he was majorly disgusted by words/suggestions (see photo). I was so thirsty but I wouldn’t drink because when I arrived at the table, the water was already poured. You never know with people you meet online.

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Wanting a Boy to Like You

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We finally got to The Cape Cod House at 1:30 in the morning. Exhausted, excited and delirious we walked through the wooded front yard to the door.

He greeted us with a beer in hand.

“Hey guys! How was the trip up!? Welcome to the house. Everyone is in the kitchen. Go get a drink!”

That’s T? He’s taller than I thought he would be and kind of cute. That thick Jersey accent … what a dork.  

I scoped the room to see who else I could flirt with this weekend. Two of the guys were taken. There was another guy who wasn’t really my type. A girl sat next to T. She looked like she was into him.

I guess he’s out. That’s disappointing.

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Daily Survival: Life as an Emotional Trigger

Forgiveness-Quote-Graphics-20The water was boiling on the stove as I chopped up a red bell pepper and some corn for my quinoa and veggie work lunches. She was sitting at the table staring at her lottery cards and watching Real Housewives on our kitchen television. An extra large wine bottle was pulled out of the fridge. Her glass was filled to the brim.

When I’m cooking I’m happy. With her there in my presence I find it almost impossible to relax. My food is almost always under seasoned, overcooked, I drop pieces all of the floor and scramble to pick them up before she notices.

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Putting Yourself First

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People tell me I have a knack for writing about dating and relationships. I am always doling out my share of love advice. I am fascinated by the way people interact with one another. Because of that, most of my blog posts are based around dating and relationships. I’ve enjoyed sharing my stories and experiences but after turning another year older on Saturday I have finally learned some important things.

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