Tinder Adventure

I have started on a boy adventure, a Tinder boy adventure. Yes, that is right, everyone's favorite hot or not hookup app is responsible for the new guy in my life. No, this is not a story of how I fell in love on a Tinder date, and it can happen to you too. This is me finally using Tinder for what it is intended, hooking up.

I know what you are thinking ... God she is a whore, and think what you want. I have had Tinder since the summer and had only been on one date. I mostly have used the app to stifle boredom and to boost my confidence when a hot guy swipes right and we match. After my first bad experience on a Tinder date, I summed it up to harmless fun. I would block the boys who start their chats with, “dtf?” and say hi to the ones I really wanted to chat me back.  

One unsuspecting Saturday morning I got a chat from a very attractive, chiseled 34 year old.  This is how our conversation started:

Tinder Boy: Hi there

Me: Hey

Tinder Boy: Your Sexy :) Love a women with curves.  (ok SOLD!  He is hot and likes curvy women!)

Me: Well Thank you! You're pretty sexy yourself (total understatement).  Where are you from?

Tinder Boy: Atlanta (Of course he is! Damn Georgia Boys!)

Tinder Boy: Maybe we can share a bottle of wine and snuggle up to a movie sometime.  I have a nice condo all to myself :)

(Damn this guy is good!  Wine, movies, and cuddling are 3 of my favorite things! How can I resist?)

We continued on with a banter during which I called him trouble and he called me gorgeous.  Phone numbers were exchanged, and the sexting games began.  Little known fact about me, and some of you might think this is TMI, but I am a master sexter.  I know most people just think of sexting as sending naughty pictures, but the real art is keeping a guy intrigued without a picture.  If you are a sext beginner, here are two key phrase that will never fail you: “You’re so dirty” and “I aim to please”.  

Although Tinder Boy wanted to see me that weekend, I was busy (true story too, I already had plans).  Also, it was Tinder, so I wanted to see if he would stay interested for a whole week.  Oh boy did he!  But during this week my friends started to plant crazy notions into my head.  Elle was determined that Tinder Boy was not real, and I was going to get catfished.  She thought it would be funny if I showed up, and he was a 50 year old balding fat man.  Chloe was sure I would get murdered, reminding me of several SVU episodes.  I started to get anxious about going to Tinder Boy’s place.  I know a healthy dose of fear is good, but I had already thought out escape plans.  I was going to send Conner the address and apartment number of Tinder Boy’s place with directions to call me if he hadn’t heard from me 2 hours after I arrived.  I was doing this!    

I know a million things could have gone wrong, and I would hate if someone had to tell my mother I got murdered in the pursuit of getting laid, but I need a little fun in my life.  Oh and fun I knew I would have!  Tinder Boy is also an advanced sexter, giving me a run for my money, and making me bring out the big guns.  

(WARNING: If you blush easily then the rest of this post might not be for you.  I am going to share some intimate details.)  

By big guns I mean role play.  I had never tested out this tactic before because so many boys I encounter assume I am a goodie goodie when it comes to sex and don’t engage me in this beautiful art of text message seduction.  What role play scenario did we play?  Well, I decided to start with a classic.  I was a Catholic school girl, so schoolgirl and hot teacher was an easy one to play.  After some “would you keep me after school”s and “teach me how to please you”s, Tinder Boy was eating out of the palm of my hand.  

I was beyond excited for our date when a girl’s worst enemy made an early appearance, damn you Mother Nature!  I decided after the way we had been texting it would be necessary to tell him before I went over.  So, I went with the following text “So, Mother Nature is a bitch and decided to make an early appearance.  You still up for wine, a movie, and dry humping like teenagers? Hehe”.  This well crafted message worked!  He had planned a last minute trip, so we decided to postpone to the movie until after he returned and have a hand session.  Hand session you ask? Well, this is just another name for fooling around.  Hands finding their way around each others bodies, kissing, touching, discovering each others’ likes.  Tinder Boy likes talking dirty with me, and makes sure I’m completely satisfied.

So, I obviously did not get murdered since I am writing this, but did he look like his pictures?  Yes! He still has all his hair, his body is as rocking as the selfies he sent me, and all around a major hottie!  He is shorter than I thought he would be, only just slightly taller than me, but I can wear flats for this level of fun!  

I was extremely nervous when I got to his place.  He had told me he was going to hop in the shower and to let myself in.  Of course he was still in the shower when I got there.  I tell him I am there through the bathroom door. He sends me a text to make myself comfortable in the bedroom. I start to freak out thinking “Oh goodness. Maybe I am not ready for this, I can still leave.”  Then he comes out in a towel with a body like wow! He makes a joke about me probably being relieved that he wasn't old and bald, and, let’s be honest, I was!  He doesn't take the time to get dressed, just comes over to the bed wrapped in a towel and kisses me hello.  Kissing, I am good at that! That is a great place to start, deep passionate, kissing.   I wasn't so nervous any more. First my black v-neck tee comes off revealing my sexiest black lace bra. Minutes later I work my way out of my skinny jeans, left in my bra and thong, evening the whole clothes ratio. They never came off, pulled and pushed around, yes, but never removed entirely.  Tinder boy went to work proving to me that he is good with his hands, spending more time at it than anyone has since high school, when it was as far as they were getting with me.

I repaid the favor, making quick work of it by whispering dirty tidbits from our sext fantasies. That's the great thing about sexting, you can find out a guys triggers before you even get them in the bedroom.  A few choice words make a simple hand job into an ultra sexy treat.  

We laid  in bed cuddling and talking for an hour, getting to know each other a little better.  Him talking about crossfit and his trip to Europe, and me about why I love DC and where I am from. We both discussed how screwed up the dating scene in DC is, how many people cheat, and what we are looking for someday when we are done having fun. I can tell we are at no risk of falling in love, just two people who are physically attracted to each other, looking for someone willing to be adventurous and play with us.

I didn't realize how stifled I had been sexually until Tinder boy entered the picture and made me realize I am not dirty for wanting adventurous sex. It is normal to have fantasies and turn ons, it's sexy even.  I think that is why when my friends, especially my guy friends, call me Mom I get so offended. It makes me feel so asexual, when I am in fact a very sexual person. I don't sleep around often, and I try to only sleep with people I see potential with, but sometimes sex is just sex, and that is healthy.  

Tinder Boy sexted me only an hour after I left and right up until he got on a plane to leave the country for the week. I will say this, I am under no impression that this will turn into some wonderful relationship.  I am taking it at face value - a fun hot guy who wants to hook up and likes what I am working with.  In my opinion, there is nothing wrong with a having a fun buddy as long as everyone involved is on the same page.  So, I find myself ordering things from the Victoria’s Secret Semi-Annual Sale and waiting for my next adventure with Tinder Boy.  

2014

I know we are a few weeks into 2014, but it is never too late to tell you about my New Years Eve, New Years resolutions, and my outlook on 2014.  

I could not have dreamt up a better way to start 2014.  Ok maybe there could have been a few slight improvements, like a New Years kiss, but seriously, my New Years Eve was practically perfect!

Elle, Hadley, my new and wonderful friend Layson, and I got all dolled up in sequins and headed to a wonderful four course meal at Lavanga.  The food was spectacular, and the company superb!  We laughed, stuffed our faces, and mocked the 60 year-old women with cleavage for days.  After our delicious meal we snuck into a private, open bar party at our favorite bar.  We made friends, got boys to buy us shots, hung out with all our favorite bartenders, and overall had an amazing time!  We could not have planned a more perfect night with friends.  Hadley kept finding boys willing to give up their party hats until we all had one.  

I want 2014 to be the year of Harper.  I plan to do things that I like, things that make me happy, and things that better me.  So, here are some promises I have made or goals I have set for myself.

- Read 52 books this year.  That is a book a week.  I spend an hour on the metro everyday, and have started reading during my lunch hour.  There is no reason why I can’t find the time to read a book a week.  

- Lose weight.  I know what you are thinking.  This is every typical woman’s resolution.  What makes this different than years before is why I want to.  I want to feel good about myself.  I don’t want to lose weight to win some boy, I want to do it to like the way I look in clothes.  I know there is nothing wrong with being a 14/16, but I would like to be able to go into any store in a mall and find something that fits me nicely.  I have started Weight Watchers, and have already lost 5lbs.   

- Spend my money on big moments instead of nights at the bar.  I would rather save up so I can have the memories of something like Taste of the South than spend all my money at my neighborhood bar doing the same thing every week.  I am too young to give up on living.

- Leave the past in the past.  I have to stop carrying around all my past heartbreak and let myself move on.  As long as I hold onto the past I will never be able to have a future.

-  Be confident in my own decisions.  I need to make decisions and not second guess them.  

- Spend time with true friends.  I want to continue to develop my friendships with the people that are always there for me.  It isn’t the quantity of friends you have, it is the quality of your friendships that matter.

- Have fun!

The year of Harper has so many other goals and objectives, but no need to bore you with them all.  I am really looking forward to what 2014 has to offer.  The best part of the New Year is the idea that you can start fresh, eliminate bad habits, learn from your mistakes - with that comes the ability to change..  So, even though this is a few weeks late, I hope you also have plans for yourself in 2014.  If not, it is never too late!   

Goodbye 2013 ...

2013, what a tricky lady you turned out to be.  You always kept me guessing, full of beautiful beginnings, tragic endings, and all different forms of the in-betweens. I am not sad to see you go.  I am ready for what 2014 will hold for me, but I would like to look back at what bumps, bruises, and blessings 2013 left me with.  

January brought a new job, a new apartment, and the loss of an old friend.  As exciting as changing career paths was, it was also terrifying!  Looking back, I am very happy with the decision and don’t know that I could be happier doing anything else.  I also love my studio and living alone.  It is my little corner of the world where I can tuck away, let my hair down (or in my case, put it up), and not have to worry about anyone but myself.  Losing J was hard.  I don’t know that I will ever understand why he took his own life.  I felt so much all at once: angry, confused, guilty, numb, destroyed.  I miss him!  I will forever be, in his words, “His fag hag!”

For my 3rd year in DC 2013 actually held a lot of firsts!  First time to go to Vegas, Taste of the South, and Gold Cup; first group trip I ever planned; first joint birthday party; first trip to Miss America.  I feel like I really started living in 2013, more than just going out to the bar (which I did do a lot!), but doing the things that I kept putting off, having real adventures!

I let go of someone I loved and discovered my true feelings for someone else in my life.  I know you all are probably tired of reading about D, and honestly, I am tired of writing about him, but it wouldn’t be a recap of my life in 2013 without mentioning him, what I put myself though b/c of him this year.  

Walking away from D is at the top of the lists of the best things I have ever done for myself, and the hardest things I have ever done.  I think if you love someone, truly love them, you never really stop loving them.  There just comes a point when love isn’t enough to keep you anymore, love doesn’t take away the hurt and lies, or dry the tears.  D hurt me, more than I will ever be able to put into words really.  I have tried so many times to say that he didn’t crush me, not completely, but I don’t know if that is necessarily true.  I think I allowed him to stifle my spark.  In my need to feel special, I allowed him to drain me of everything spectacular about me.  I think my last words to him might be the most perfect words I have ever spoken in a moment, “I want you to be happy, but I want me to be happy more.  You no longer contribute to my happiness.”  I am still angry at him, and I know I probably will be for a long time.  I think more than anything I am angry at myself for letting it go on for so long, and for getting so out of hand.  I let my feelings for him blind me from so many things.  I am glad I took off my rose colored glasses and see him and our former relationship for what it really was.  What it is now is finally over.  It is the past, and I am resolved to leave it there.  

I mentioned that I discovered my true feelings for someone else, and I am only going to touch on this briefly.  This is a part of my life I want to keep to myself, it is more real than anything else I have ever felt and very private.  It is funny how some things sneak up on you though.  They develop, grow, take hold of you without you even realizing it.  They are real, deep, and a part of you.  Loving some people is as natural as breathing.  It doesn’t hurt, their love doesn’t cripple you, it just becomes part of who you are.  These feelings are also inconvenient, inopportune, and even inappropriate.  You can try to put them back in the box deep inside of you from where they came, you can try.  I am trying.  Maybe I missed my moment in time with this person, maybe it is yet to come, but maybe it never will.  

 

2013 you have been a hard year, a great year, but difficult nonetheless.  As I bid farewell, I am starting 2014 with a heart that is at peace.  Instead of looking at my imperfections, I am focusing on what I want out of my life, and what I need to do to get it.  I, through therapy, am finding an inner strength that I never knew I could posses.  I feel hopeful and open to a world of possibilities.  2014, show me what you’ve got!    

Better to Lose Someone Else Instead of Yourself

As I have told y’all many times before, I have spent much of my life trying to please everyone else.  I would base my decisions on what would make the most people happy.  The problem with that was I would end up doing a lot of things I didn’t want to do, and feel guilty if I disappointed people.  I have also realized that so many of the people in my life who I worry about pleasing have never cared if they disappoint me.  I am learning to be more assertive in my choices, my wants, and my needs.  The hardest part about learning this lesson is realizing that I will have to let some people go.  The realization that some of your friendships are unhealthy is a very hard pill to swallow.  I am doing my best to actually make decisions that make me happy.  That can be as simple as staying in on a Thursday, to walking away from a friendship, to not texting a ridiculously good looking guy because I know his intentions are not honorable (and I deserve more than being someone’s backup plan).

Going to therapy makes you very self-aware, and I’ve learned the feeling of my inadequacy runs deeper than I thought.  I have to constantly fight the voice in the back of my head that says I am too fat, not smart enough, nothing special, and I don’t deserve for people to care about me, my thoughts, and my feelings.  I have to fight the voice that says I am not worth loving or I am not good enough to be someone’s priority.       

The holidays, for some reason, seem much harder.  It is a time for giving, but I have to remember not to give all of myself.  Last year I forgot that; last year I gave my heart to someone so very undeserving.  There has to be a balance, a way to be a caring person and to keep yourself.  I sometimes envy people who can just say what they want and not care about the consequences, about how it will make other people feel.  Though, I suppose I did that last year, when I told D that I loved him, but the only person it hurt was me.  

I used to think I was strong enough to get through anything, but I was wrong.  Back then I was neither strong enough to walk away, nor to stand up for myself.  But now, I am stronger and I will continue to become a stronger person.  Settling for what someone is willing to give instead of finding someone who can give what I deserve is no longer an option.  I will not be guilted into neglecting my own needs to please the whims of others.  

#TBT, Cocktail Party Hatred

This is something I wrote before the Capitol Confessions ever existed.  It is actually one of the ramblings that made me think a blog might be a good idea.  Even though the circumstances of my life are very different from when I wrote it, there is still a lot of truth to it.  Thought I would share it with you on this Throwback Thursday.

~

Do you ever find yourself loving something you typically hate?  You know that thing that you always tell your friends you cannot stand.  Then, there is the exception, that moment when you actually enjoy the object of your typical loathing.  

For me, it is making small talk at a cocktail reception.  Don’t get me wrong, I love happy hour and cocktails.  Specifically, the situation when you are stuck in mindless conversation with people about whom you couldn’t care less.  After working all day, happy hour is supposed to be a release, not a stressor.  A big part of my job is fake smiles in-person and sweet reassurance over the phone.  When I am at work, I am “on” all the time.  When I leave, I just want to cut the bullshit and be myself.  I don’t want to fake interest for someone with whom I neither want to be friends nor sleep with.  Plain and simple, cocktail parties are the bane of my existence.  

Then, there is the exception to this.  There are times when I feel irrelevant.  Work is making me feel like the size of a pea.  I need an ego boost, a reminder that I can work the room.  There is an adrenaline rush to knowing only half the people at a party, a surge of confidence that I have not felt in quite sometime.  Nothing is better than finding a personal win when I corner the guy at the party who is avoiding me because we made out in college. I feel even more ecstatic when I realize he got fat.  

I then begin to think that I am the master of the cocktail party, and my party persona rules all.  So, I RSVP “yes” to another event.  I wear the perfect outfit, and head to work all vamped up for another boost.  Then, you get to the party after a long day at the office.  The same satisfaction I had at the last event just isn't there.  The wine doesn’t taste as good; the conversation bores me, and I wonder why I am wasting my precious free time with a room of practical strangers.  I suddenly hate being at cocktail parties again.  Loathing overtakes me and the natural order has returned.  

Why? I don’t need my ego stroked at this time.  Someday, I will despise my lack of importance more than I despise a room full of uninteresting people.  The time will come that I will need to be the life of the party, even if the party sucks.  Until then, I will go around telling all my friends how much I hate cocktail parties, and I will not let them drag me to one.  

Nerd Alert! ..... The Doctor is In!

I do not try to hide the fact that I am a gigantic nerd.  A well-dressed nerd, but a nerd nonetheless.  I often have nerdy obsessions, and my current one is Doctor Who?  It combines my obsession with everything British with my obsession with sci-fi and the supernatural.  Add a quirky good looking “doctor” in a bowtie, and it becomes irresistible for me.  Man, I do love a good bowtie!  The Doctor is clever, fair, and just a little bit lonely.  Even though he is an alien, there are parts of him that are so distinctly human.  His love for humanity, his need for companionship, his demand for justice, all add to his ever complicated character.  The Doctor is still a mystery even though viewers have learned different tidbits throughout the extensive run of Doctor Who?  I am by no means a Doctor Who? expert, but I am now a huge fan!  

This week marks the 50th Anniversary of Doc Who? and I can’t get enough of the marathons and specials.  I asked for TARDIS socks for Christmas, I swear the color copier in my office is a Dalek,  and if I was ever to get a tattoo it would be “Dreamer of Impossible Dreams.”  The Doctor represents hope, the idea that caring is important.  The doctor once said, “  You know that in nine hundred years of time and space and I’ve never met anybody who wasn’t important before.”  I find beauty in the idea that everyone he meets is important, that every person that he encounters in life has some significance.  People matter to him.  In a world where I often feel irrelevant, the idea that I matter is a comfort, to be brilliant is a challenge.  

If you were to ask me who my favorite Doctor is that would be a difficult question to answer.  I have an equal love for the 10th Doctor, David Tennant, and the 11th Doctor Matt Smith.  I love them for different reasons though.  

Tennant, of course is funny and quirky, but he has a strong commanding presence about him.  He has a confidence about him, and he knows his doctor is very clever, brilliant even.  There is also something kind of mad about him, something that can snap if pushed just a little too hard.  Death hath no fury like a scorned 10th Doctor.  He also loves and does all he can to protect his companions, and Universe.   

Then you have Matt Smith, the eleventh Doctor, the dream boat.  Young, quirky, full of life, and even just a bit odd in the most charming way.  The 11th doctor sees the wonder and possibility in the world, the good in people, the power of love.  The way he believes in people with such desperate hope is both heartwarming and heartbreaking.  I would love for the eleventh doctor to take my face in his hands, look me in the eyes, and tell me that I’m brilliant like he so often does with his companions.  I want to marry Smith’s Doctor (Sorry River Song), or really just Matt Smith himself!  Maybe it is just the bowtie, you all know my weakness for a good bowtie.  I also happen to like the fez he wore from time to time.  But it is not the bowtie or the fez, it is the light in his eyes, it is the way that he has a direct line to my emotions.  That is why I fancy him.  For those of you not as obsessed with everything British like I am, that mean I have the hots for him.  

Doctor Who? is always changing, evolving, and every doctor is his own man with his own adventures and companions.  That is why it stays exciting, and keeps people engaged.  I love sitting on my couch exploring the Universe with the Doctor, going on grand adventures, and losing myself in the magic of the TARDIS.  

Geronimo!   

What I Should Have Written Instead of Hiding ...

I keep saying I am going to stop going MIA on all of you readers, but then I find myself sitting in front of a blank screen waiting for my fingers to make words.  I wait for the words to flow, to find humor or tragedy in some minute detail of my life.  I look for something to entertain you, warm your hearts, or bring tears to your eyes.  The trouble is I can’t.  

I should have written some great post about the Halloween party I went to despite how huge I felt in my costume.  I should have painted this haze of a picture that involves 2 different boys kissing me that night.  Talked about how I wasn’t really sure I wanted to kiss either of them, but it had been too long and felt too good to stop.  I know I should have talked about the Texas boy creeping closer to me while we talked, leaning in and taking me by surprise when his lips touched mine.  I should have written about my quick escape when I realized we were making out in the middle of the party, and how my neighborhood bar seemed like the perfect haven.  How I saw the signs when buff boy number 2 pulled me into his kiss, and how I didn’t refuse it.  I should have talked about my lack of shame that night.  When boy number 2 walked me home I didn’t let him stay, and I was proud of myself.  I could have invited the boy I didn’t care about up to my bed to end the dry spell, to feel wanted, but I didn’t.  I should have written about that, how it made me feel, how proud I was of myself, how lonely I felt.    

I should have written about my winery adventures with Chloe, Elle, Connor and crew.  I should have written about the wine, the laughs, the cute dogs everywhere.  I should have written about brunch with Hadley, and how it turned into an all day affair.  I should have written about my date and how he split the check, how there was no spark, how it left me feeling lonelier than ever.  

More than anything I should have written about starting therapy.  I should have written about how my breakdown got to be too much for me to bear.  I have been going for two months now, and it is helping me find an inner peace.  I am working on my issues that keep me from being a happy person.  I wanted to tell all of you, even though you probably already know, that I have been drowning in my self-consciousness.  I am learning to be more assertive and to eliminate definitive words like should and must from the way I think about my life (upon my Therapist's Suggestion).   

I should have written about a lot of things, but I just didn’t know if any of you would want to read them.  More than that I think I wanted to hold something for myself after finding out about D.  I have made so many of my deepest darkest moments public, by choice, especially my relationship with D.  I was embarrassed that he could still hurt me, and I just wanted to heal in private.  I have been trying to heal the same way I always do, I guess: kiss some inappropriate boys to prove I can, surround myself with friends, and drinking LOTS of wine.  The only thing different this time was I wasn’t sure I was ready to share it with the world.