Ashleee Karen

Made it 4 months celibate…now what??

Posts Tagged ‘break ups’

Apathy is the new black

Posted by ashleeekaren on May 5, 2011

…at least for me it is.

I have been silent for awhile… and no, it’s not because I have been having all sorts of amazing sex…it’s because I’ve been apathetic.

Where did this all start??

I found out Martin has a new girlfriend… stupid Facebook.  I hate Facebook…  I didn’t even go on there and my friend had to shove it in my face early one morning…  And even though I had let Martin go, couldn’t bear to keep him around as a beta orbiter for my own selfish needs, I never in a MILLION years expected to react the way I did…

Which was to start crying and then go day drinking and end up a puddled, blabbering mess by 4pm.

I think that triggered it…

And then a couple weeks later, every freaking loser I’ve dated and then subsequently ignored called me.  Monday – Loser #1, Tuesday Loser #2, Weds – ran into Loser #3.   Then on Thurs went out on a date with Old Dorky Guy #1 who, from his pics, looked about 20 years younger than he actually did in person. (eharmony date – needless to say, I cancelled my subscription shortly after).  Did I mention that Loser #1 had actually called and texted me a couple weeks before that Monday, and I ignored him then too?? OH, and did I mention that the Evil T also texted that same weekend.

All of this put me in an emotional tizzy. I’m sensitive.  TOO sensitive, and I think it was time that something…snapped.  I’m sick of allowing these men to affect me the way they do.

And as Rivelino advised me awhile back – don’t just write about dating – write about what you want.

And here’s what I want –

I don’t want to feel anything.

I am not very good at dating.  I don’t think I ever have been.  I am good at getting dates, but not actually dating. I lose my head. I fall in love, I get my feelings hurt, and my heart broken.  No more.

What have any of these relationships ever done for me?  Nothing.  NOTHING!  Well, maybe I’ve learned a lesson or two, the most important being: DON’T DATE ANYMORE!

And I’m not here to blame it on men.  Although some of them are jerks, but just as many of them are nice.  It’s really all my fault.  All of it.  All the bad decisions, the bruised pride, the shattered heart… all of it is my fault.  And I don’t seem to be changing my tune, because I still go after the bad boys and they still go after me.   Ok, ok, admittedly, the 2 nice guys I’ve gone out with in the past 3 years since I’ve been single weren’t exactly matches for me – one wore his button up shirt unbuttoned too low showing his gaudy gold chain, which only emphasized the tragedy of his pointy alligator shoes… and the other…well… the other nice guy had a small penis and talked too much.  Again, not a match.

So I’ve turned off the emotions.  Stopped responding to male attention – for example was hit on yesterday at the grocery store, guy chatted me up in the frozen section and nearly stalked me around the store until checkout.  Then told me how sexy I was in the parking lot.  He was totally my type.  He gave me his number.  I’ve already thrown it away.  Ron has been texting me a lot lately too and haven’t responded to any of his texts…

And yes, I know this means I’m wasting what little beauty my quickly waning youth has afforded me.  But this just beats the alternative – up and down, left and right, feeling happy, then sad, then stupid and resentful.  Enough already.

Posted in Hm. Inneresting..., Just. Awful., Martin, Ron, Rules, T----, WTF | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 21 Comments »

A girl and her dog

Posted by ashleeekaren on February 1, 2011

I love dogs.  And no, not in that crazy, dress them up in little outfits and hats, kinda love.  But the somewhat normal, love taking them on walks and hikes, playing fetch, and giving belly rubs kind of love.  I have 2 dogs myself – Russell and Benny, and they are very special to me.  Russell in particular

Before T and I moved into the house I’m presently living in, we talked about getting a dog.  I was still under the delusion that he would stop drinking and that I could change him, so I thought getting a dog would be a nice way to normalize us.  Better than getting pregnant, that’s for sure…

I got Russell at a dog adoption fair – he was with a rescue group who took in pregnant dogs and adopted out their puppies.  He was only 12 weeks old when I got him, but he was so sweet and adorable – still small enough to sit in my lap, albeit awkwardly, although I knew he would get big since his mother was a German Shephard…

Once in the new house, T’s drinking worsened and my denial grew deeper.  I had isolated myself from my friends and family, ashamed of who I had chosen as a boyfriend, and unable to ask for help or advice from anyone I trusted.  Because of his drinking, I was scared to really push him too hard, but the stress was beginning to wear on me.  My everyday life became a constant effort not to upset T so that he wouldn’t drink more, so we wouldn’t fight…he was a very mean drunk.

I would come home from work and nearly every day he would be drunk.  Having not worked a full day, or at all, he instead played video games and drank and by the time I got home there would be empty vodka and beer bottles strewn about our house.   So I wouldn’t have to fight with him, I would simply greet him, pretend everything was ok, and tell him I was taking Russell for a walk.

I looked forward to the walks I had with Russell, just as much as I know he did.  I would take out that leash and he would wag his tail furiously and do little doggy circle dances while waiting for me to get ready.  Our walks would be about 20 to 30 minutes, but I loved every second.  Here was another living, breathing creature who knew what I was going through and I could talk to him – he never judged me, he only loved me.  He always knew when I was sad – but playing fetch with him would make me smile as I watched him tumble over himself chasing his ball… After T would get particularly mean, and sometimes violent, Russell would curl up next to me and lay his head on my leg while I quietly cried – and I felt better.   In the lonely haze of T’s alcoholism, I sometimes felt that Russell was all I had.

As the drunken bouts grew worse, I needed more time away from the house – I would go to work early, and stay as late as I could, but would always come home in time to feed Russell.  I started taking him to the dog park where I could stay for an hour or so while he played with other dogs and I chatted with people who didn’t know I was the fool of a girlfriend to a bad drunk…

The night I kicked T out of the house – things were bad.  He was more drunk than I had ever seen him and in a bad mood.  I had had enough of tip toeing around him and this time didn’t back down from his temper.  I didn’t say anything to him – it was just a look I gave him.  He must have understood it –  I told him I was going out to a work function, and that’s when he exploded…  after some pushing, shoving, and broken glass, I locked myself and Russell in my bedroom and called T’s friend to come get him – I was reluctant to call the police – I was afraid of exposing the shame of my relationship to people that I worked with, as a criminal case, if filed, would sure to have been filed in the court I worked in…I thought – maybe if I just have his friend pick him up then no one would have to know.

Russell and I sat in my bedroom as T pounded on the door, screaming and yelling for me to get off the phone… I remember seeing Russell with his ears back and his tail between his legs.  He was shaking – and I realized I was too.  T broke down the door and stepped into the room – Russell tried crawling under the bed but he couldn’t fit and he began to whimper softly… I murmured to him that he was ok, it was going to be alright, and I gently stroked his head.  I remember staring at T trying to anticipate his next move with 911 already punched into my phone.    I saw the door, splintered and cracked with the knob hanging off, ready to hit send if he took another step towards me.

We stared at each other, but I don’t know if he saw my phone ready to dial 911.  Then he broke the silence and told me he wasn’t leaving but that he would sleep on the couch.   I said nothing as he walked back out of the room.  His friend came a few minutes later and put him in the car and drove away.

Dogs are amazing creatures – they don’t care about anything except loving you.  They don’t judge you when you’re weak, they keep you company when you’re lonely, and they make you smile when you think you’ve forgotten how.


Posted in T----, The Men in My Life | Tagged: , , , , , , , , | 23 Comments »

Celibate from intimacy…?

Posted by ashleeekaren on January 22, 2011

Since breaking up with T I have dated a few guys and have had sex with them, but I can say that I have never really achieved that level of intimacy that I’ve been craving.

Intimacy, at least for me, is something that takes a long time to build.  I have had sex with men and been affectionate, warm, and inviting, but not truly intimate.  It’s that unspoken familiarity between two people – feeling comfortable enough to curl up next to someone without restraint, knowing exactly how they are going to put their arms around you… those are the things that I miss.  

Sure, sex often leads to cuddling, affection, hand holding and kisses on the forehead, but it’s not the same.  I can have sex with someone and be responsive and engaged…but without the intimacy, without love…it’s not the same.  I hold back – GT and I have only really had sex the one time and things with him are so inconsistent that I hold back emotionally as well.  Not physically so much…maybe just a little because I’m still self-conscious, but with true intimacy, all that self-consciousness is wiped away.

I realize that the last person I was truly intimate with was T.  About 6 or 7 months ago we had had a brief tryst and it was there.   But it was bitter for me… And were my judgment to falter  again and I called him up, we’d probably attack each other as if there hadn’t been any time between us.  And though it might feel strange to feel that intimate with someone who has hurt me so much, it would be there anyway.

I now know that I could never have any realistic long term situation with GT, and frankly his inconsistency is beginning to wear on me.  The excitement of getting to know someone has faded – I am far too old to put up with games, whether they are inadvertent or not.  The little I have gleaned from him leads me to believe that although he may genuinely like me, he is far too selfish a person for me to ever seriously consider being with.  He is still caught up in the rockstar lifestyle and has a million balls in the air…I’m not foolish enough to think that he will ever change who he is – I learned a long time ago that you must take a man for who he is and never expect him to be anything but that.

I cannot say that I am sad.  Or unhappy.  I’m not either of these things.  But I miss feeling the weight of a man that I love on top of me.  I miss being able to wake up in the morning with a man I love fumbling with the sheets to get closer to me so I can feel his breath on my neck… I miss cooking for a man!  Haha, never thought I’d feel that way…  These are the treasures you get when you are intimate with someone.  And I have been celibate from these treasures for a long time…

Posted in Grand Theft (GT), Hm. Inneresting..., T----, Trying to Maintain... | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 26 Comments »

Marry Him…? (No, not the book…yet)

Posted by ashleeekaren on November 30, 2010

Ok, it’s still sitting on my night stand.  But now is the best time to read it I think.

Martin just dropped the bomb on me.

Yes, yes I realize I’ve been talking about GT a lot lately – trying to figure him out, etc, etc (annoying myself at this point when it comes to GT…)

But Martin called today and dropped the bomb on me.

He wants to be with me.

Where did this come from?

We’ve been hanging out here and there as friends.  My friend Sharon and I were bored and last weekend I texted him:

AK: What are you doing?

MB: Sorry just saw your texts.  I’m down at ______ with a few friends.

AK: How long you gonna be there?

AK: We’re out at dinner. Just finished eating and we’re gonna head home and change.

MB: Should be here till they close

AK: Who u with (sent by Sharon on my phone)

MB: Yeah a few old people and a few new ones.

MB: Maybe you don’t want to come

AK: Are you being serious

AK: Next time you don’t want me to hang, don’t bother texting me back and I will get it.

MB: You can always hangout.  Just wanted to let you know.

AK: Yeah – no thanks.

Sharon was smart. She knew he was seeing a chick but didn’t want me to show up and have her be there.  Which is why she wanted to know who he was with.  I wasn’t thinking that way – I just figured that he wouldn’t respond and tell me where he’s at unless he wanted to meet up.

I was pissed.  I don’t know why.  He has every right to date someone new. I guess I just don’t want to know about them directly…

Anyway he texted me today to ask if I hated him. I called him and said, no I don’t hate you, but you’re an idiot for even texting me at all that night.  Especially if you knew you were going to hang with some girl.  He apologized and said he wasn’t thinking.  Then this:

“Ever since we’ve been broken up, I’ve been trying to find someone who is just like you.  This girl I was dating – she’s a lot like you, but I realized I don’t want a replacement.  So I ended it with her.  I want the real thing.”

I still have feelings for him.  And yes, Riv, to answer your questions – he is husband material.  He is a Beta – he’s thoughtful, considerate, often places my needs before his own.  He always treated me with kindness and respect, and didn’t want anything from me but to just BE with me…  He would be a good husband and an even better father.  He’s a bit lacking in the career and goals department – I don’t feel like he can keep up with me, but I’m being told I shouldn’t be so “picky”.  Whatever that means…

He is a good man and if I let him, he will spend his life trying to make me happy.

So why aren’t I jumping at the chance to be with him again?

What is the difference between Martin and all these other guys I’ve been spending time with over the past 2 years…?

The difference is that Martin fucked up.  Big time.  And when he did, he broke my heart, and it still hurts.  GT and the rest of the guys I’ve dated haven’t fucked up like that yet.  So I give them a shot, while Martin waits in the wings.

I don’t want to keep looking for “Prince Charming” who I KNOW doesn’t exist, and then blink, and as Riv is always ALWAYS telling me, years have gone by and my youth and good looks and social value is gone and then I’m a cougar…

But I just don’t know how to forgive him.  I still resent him and I need to get over it.  I hang onto my resentment because it protects me from being hurt by him again.  Ugh, that is so bitter and awful sounding, but it’s the honest truth.

Posted in Martin, The Men in My Life, WTF | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , | 30 Comments »

Why I’m doing this

Posted by ashleeekaren on November 9, 2010

I am a 31 year old woman and I am not ashamed to say that I’m still working on figuring things out.  

I have been asked several times why I am doing this little celibacy project.  I think there several theories floating around out there.  Here are some that I have gleaned from comments and emails:

1.  I’m trying to re-virginize myself: Couldn’t be farther from the truth.  Who the hell would want to be a virgin again?  And if I even thought that I could re-virginize myself…is there some magical thing that is supposed to happen once my hymen has been restored (which it can’t by the way, short of some weird plastic surgery)?  I don’t think so.

2.  I’m a born again Christian: Nope – haven’t talked that much about God or religion on this blog.  Or at all.  I don’t attend church.  I have nothing against people who believe in religion – good for them for being able to have so much faith.  That’s not me though.

3.  I’m doing this for attention:  Well duh.  But not exactly.  If I didn’t want anyone to read the thoughts I type, then I wouldn’t upload it to a blog and allow everyone to read it.  I’m not trying to get a movie deal like that Julie & Julia movie.  I am interested in a discourse. I want to know what people think.  I am fully aware that I open myself up to attack – being called a slut, a whore, etc, etc, these are not new or original ways to put someone down.  Especially a woman who brazenly declares how much she likes sex.  As unpleasant as the whore and slut comments can be, they are important to consider, but they will not censor me into writing something other than what I feel and experience.

I am not presumptuous enough to believe that my way is the best way to view sex and sexuality.  Do it whatever way you want, and if you don’t like it my way, then move on to the next blog.  That’s the beauty of this wonderful blogosphere – there are a plethora of ideas and perspectives for a person to explore and enjoy.  Some of it will upset you, some of it will make you laugh, and some of it will make you think.  Thank you First Amendment.

4.  I’m hoping someone will send me a new vibrator:  HA!  I could use a new one.  My trusty Rabbit just crapped out on me.  We had a good 2 years together – he was a giver.  I haven’t had the heart to replace him just yet…


Here are the REAL reasons I’m doing this celibacy project and blog (this list is not exclusive – Ashleee Karen reserves the right to amend the list as new reasons become available)

1.  I’ve had a rough few years:  My last boyfriend was an emotionally and physically abusive alcoholic.  I helped him through sobriety and when he got on his feet, he didn’t need me anymore.  I figured out that fixing someone (as if you ever can) doesn’t necessarily make them want to love you more, and in the end, you’re the one who needs fixing.  I am having trouble feeling safe enough to open myself up to someone in a meaningful way.

2.  I don’t know what I want: I don’t know if I want to get married and have kids. I don’t know if I am someone who knows how to be happy in a relationship.  The last healthy relationship I had was about 6-7 years ago and I feel like an entirely different person now.  That girl I was is a stranger to me in so many ways.

3.  I’m still picking crappy guys: In the 2 years that I’ve been single since T, 90% of the guys that I have dated were all wrong for me.  Maybe I picked them that way – self-sabotage and what not. The guys that I passed on, I probably should’ve pursued.  Until I figure out what the hell is going on with that, I think it’s better to stay away from men altogether.

4.  If I’m not working on a relationship with a guy, I can work on the relationship with myself: And here we are, the ultimate reason.  I will tell you what I told my therapist – when I’m not trying to date a guy I can work on other issues that I have outside of my romantic endeavors.  Men can be distractions if you let them, and it’s so much easier to deal with someone else than it is to deal with yourself.   I need to spend time with myself and learn all the great things about me, so that when (and if) I meet the right guy, then he’ll see those things too.

So there you have it.  Thoughts?

Posted in Why I'm doing this | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 33 Comments »

Day 48/365 – Ashleee Karen Celibacy Project 2010-2011

Posted by ashleeekaren on October 14, 2010

Day 48 of 365.  Hey, just 317 more days left in my celibacy project…!  Do they make a sedative that will knock me out for 317 more days??

So let’s see….the last post was a little depressing so I thought I would lighten the mood a little.  This blog is supposed to be about my day to day struggle to not have sex and stay away from men, not a history of my bad boyfriends…. Well maybe thinking about my bad boyfriends helps me stay celibate…  There are no rules I suppose, but I like to try and be consistent.

So this morning I didn’t have to be in court so I usually allow myself the luxury of sleeping in and waiting the traffic out.  This was not to be, as Ron must have SMELLED how unbelievably sex starved I feel.  He texted me this morning at 6 AM.  He thinks it’s funny to wake me up in the mornings on his way to the gym.

I peeked at the phone through a layer of blankets and my sleepy eyes – text from Ron.  Closed my eyes.  Rolled over.  Another text.  Ignored it.  Put the pillow over my head.  And another text.

Hm.  Maybe it’s important…I rolled over and checked the texts:


R: HI!

R: Good morning!  Hire you?

R: Oops! I mean, How are you?

Yeah…not that important.  But I was up now, so I texted him back:

AK: Lol.  You reeeeeally like waking me up on the days I can sleep in…

AK: And now that you’ve woken me up you have to entertain me.

R: Okay.  What’s up?  What are you up to today?

As I texted him, flashbacks of our last hot sex romp filled my head. I got the tingles.

R: What is your weekend looking like?

AK: I have a Quincenera on Sat in ________.  You?

R: Let’s hang out

AK: I’ll let you know.


I have a theory (which is not an original one) about ovulation and being horny. I have a friend who is super smart and has a PhD in the human reproductive area so I’ve got to talk to her about that so I can blog about it.  Anyway, according to my handy iphone app Period Tracker, I’m not ovulating right now but there have been times when that app predicts I’m ovulating and I feel horny as hell.

Maybe I just feel horny as hell all the time.  Maybe there’s something wrong with me.  Maybe it’s not normal to have a lingering stare at the hot bailiff through the lockup windows.  Maybe I should tell Ron I’m not having sex for a year?  Nah…maybe not.  Maybe I should just tease him.  He likes that.

When I hit 365/365 I’ll either be:

A raging monster - imagine the train cars are men...




Calm, cool, collected.


Place your bets!  😉


Posted in Trying to Maintain... | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments »

The 4 year long, 1 night stand, Part 1

Posted by ashleeekaren on October 12, 2010

I’ve finally decided to sit down and write about T—-. I know I’ve been pretty playful with my posts lately, so sorry to get heavy on you…

I never would’ve guessed that just a few hours spent together would’ve drastically changed my life.

I was 25 and fresh from my breakup with Martin – I was depressed and reckless and I decided to try online dating for the first time ever. We slept together the first night and I thought I would never see him again.

T—- was charming, funny, and sweet. He was articulate, good looking and professed to be very successful. He was exactly what I needed to forget about Martin.

The sex was insane – our chemistry was ridiculous. He knew what I wanted before I did, and when he gave it to me, I wondered how I had ever lived without it. I just wanted to eat, sleep and dream him.  He spoiled me rotten – taking me out to fancy dinners, Dodger games, trips to Vegas, out to bars, and he never let me pick up the tab.

However, he kept me at arms length – I thought there was something damaged about him – maybe mommy hadn’t held him enough as a child – maybe daddy leaving was really traumatic for him. Being unable to solve this delicate mystery just made me want him more…

So did the unreturned phone calls. And the times he would invite me over and then not answer the door when I would get there, me leaving, confused and worried that something had happened. But for as many times as he ignored and flaked on me, he also welcomed me with open arms, tender kisses, and sleepless sex filled nights.

I was in love.

And it was a foolish love. The first year we knew each other he wouldn’t commit. It was tumultuous to say the least…I wanted nothing more than to be with him and take care of him.

T—- is an alcoholic. I had never known an alcoholic before and didn’t even know he was one until we moved in together. This was after a marriage proposal (with no ring). When work started to slow down for him he became depressed – he was making less money, I was paying all the bills (at this point I had been practicing law for about 2 years) and this was a problem.  I soon learned that the times he wouldn’t pick up the phone or answer the door wasn’t because he was torn about whether to commit to me and just couldn’t handle speaking or seeing me – it was because he was passed out drunk.

I would leave for work and I would come home to several empty beer, vodka and wine bottles. He would either be passed out on the couch or playing on his computer. At first it wasn’t so bad – or at least that’s what I told myself. He’s just having a rough time, I would tell myself – he’ll snap out of it,

But he didn’t. The drinking became worse. I would be thankful to go to work in the mornings to get away from him. I couldn’t talk to any of my friends or family about it because I was ashamed to admit anything was wrong.

I would work late to avoid him being up when I got home. When he was passed out, I would check if he was breathing. I was foolish in the beginning and I used to wake him up to get him into bed, but then quickly learned that he was an angry drunk when awakened like this, so I stopped doing it. I had made the mistake several times of trying to reason with him when he was drunk, and stopped that when he would proceed to yell at me unintelligibly.

I learned to tiptoe around him and over a period of months this became normal. It was I who had to change my behavior because I was so unreasonable, he would tell me…he’s just having a tough time, he would get a job and take care of me the way I was taking care of him. I just had to be patient – he had never loved anyone more than he loved me and he was going to prove it to me.

I soon began to feel the walls closing in around me. I started to see that I was being foolish and that I should just get out of there. But he would sense that, and turn on the charm and it was like I had my old T—- back. He would be attentive and sweet, and hey, even bring home some money to pay bills. We’re a team he’d say – we gotta stick together. I would fall in love with him all over again, he would stop drinking for awhile, but then he would start again and this is how our relationship cycled.

Everytime this cycle occurred, the drinking would get worse. He began punching walls and throwing stuff at me. I would make him sleep on the couch and in the morning he would crawl back into bed sometimes apologetic, and sometimes not remembering what he’d done and how scared he made me.  Sometimes he would talk about how much he wanted to hit me, and how he had never wanted to punch a woman before, until now.  But then he would tell me how much he loved me.

And I believed him.

T—- was mostly an angry drunk.  If he started out as a happy drunk he would be so clingy and needy and he would constantly need my validation about how great he was. I would give it to him, but after awhile, it would wear on me and I couldn’t perform the way he needed me to.  That’s when he turned into an angry drunk. Angry I wouldn’t tell him how much I loved him for the 50th time.  Angry I had come home late. Angry I had suggested while he was sober, that he sell the Lexus he drove since we couldn’t afford it, and most of all, I think, angry that I was figuring out what he really was…

One day I came to work with a large bruise on my arm – I was aware of it and of course wore a suit jacket over it.  At some point during the day, I took my jacket off, forgetting about the bruise. My boss saw it and remarked at how large it was.  I told her I had gotten it playing basketball the night before.

The truth was that T—- was drunk the night before and upset about something…I can’t even remember what.  We were in the bedroom I think, and he wanted to leave the room, so he pushed me out of the way and into the dresser.  Then he punched a hole in the door.   I don’t even know if I cried that night – this was normal for me now and I didn’t even know that it was wrong anymore.

To be continued…

*Please keep in mind, I am not an advocate, or an expert, or anything like that. I’m just telling you what happened and what was going through my head at the time.  I am fully aware that I could’ve gotten out at several points and trust me, I’ve been beating myself up over it for the past 2 years… I wrote this today because I felt it was time to confront it.  Maybe doing this will help me open back up and let someone get close to me in a meaningful way….I dunno. I just know it feels good to get it out there.

Posted in T----, The Men in My Life | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments »

Why are you on You should be on IMALIAR.COM!!!

Posted by ashleeekaren on October 8, 2010

Ok, I fully understand that I might end up looking like a bit of a stalker and a koo koo, but I don’t care.  I just saw Martin’s profile on

My friend Sharon is on Match right now and she hung out with Martin the other night.  The two of them are friends, and I’m completely fine with that.  Last night I’m over at her house and she tells me Martin is on Match and I should check out his profile. Of course I say YES and we take a look at it.

His pics are nice – they look like him.  His screen name is something awful…I’m scrolling, I’m scrolling and… (all identifying info has been erased)

LIE #1

Ok, ok…it’s possible he’s changed his mind about wanting to have children, and yes, he’s allowed to do that….BUT, moving on…

LIE #2


Athletic and Toned???  PLEASE!  He’s not a fatty at all – he probably carries a little bit of extra weight but he’s not fat. But he IS very big boy.  6’4″ as you can see (at least that’s not a lie).  He may have athletic ability, but that’s not what Match is asking you when they are asking about your body type.  To me, athletic and toned is:

Ok, I’m not saying that’s the only way someone could be described as athletic and toned, but you catch my drift.  Ryan Reynolds is chiseled, muscles are defined, etc.  I actually care less about a body than I do a face, but if you’re gonna say you’re athletic and toned, then I expect something like the above, or at least in that hemisphere.  Martin is NOT in that hemisphere.  He has muscles, but he doesn’t have any definition and he’s not toned.  Toned. 

LIE #3

This fool DOES NOT have a bachelors degree!!! In fact, that’s the main reason my mom didn’t like him for me.  I know for a FACT that he hasn’t gone back to school since we’ve broken up.  So why in the hell is he putting that on there?  Match offers the option of putting “some college” which would have been the accurate thing to put down.  He told Sharon he is looking for a wife – he’d really like to settle down and have kids.  Do you think telling someone that you have a bachelors degree, or at least letting them think that, is a good way to start out a potential long term relationship?!

So this begs the question – why do I care?  I don’t know. It just bothers me.  Maybe because if he were actually ALL of those things he put in his profile, I might want to be with him.  He just got laid off and is collecting unemployment.  He told me the other day that he could have a job but it would only be part time and he would make just as much money on unemployment – so why work?  WRONG ANSWER.  Is he working on some grand novel?  NO.  Does he have any physical disabilities??  NO.  Is he taking time out to travel? NO.  Spend time with his sick relative? NO. 

For me, there is only one reason for an able bodied 35 year old man with job opportunities to be on unemployment – LAZINESS.

Anyway, I had a good incredulous laugh last night when I saw his profile and Sharon agreed with me that it was a bit ridiculous.  I mean, Martin doesn’t have a mean bone in his body – but what’s with all the lies??


Posted in Guys are Jerks, Hm. Inneresting..., Martin, The Men in My Life | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments »

You want me to wear a WHAT?!?

Posted by ashleeekaren on October 4, 2010

I’ve been wanting to post something about T—- for awhile now – give more of a back story than the few paragraphs littered here and there throughout my blog, but I don’t think I’m ready yet.   It’s such a heavy topic for me, and I’ve discussed it a ZILLION times with girlfriends and guyfriends, but I’m not exactly ready to put pen to paper (or finger to key).  So instead of choosing a heavy topic, I thought I would give you a few laughs and introduce you to my first boyfriend ever – SOM.  Obviously, that’s not his real name, but read on to find out what it stands for… (this one is a bit lengthy but I’m all about building suspense and dramatic flourish)

I was 19 or 20 when I met SOM.  I went to a birthday dinner for my dear friend Amelia (hello Amelia!)  – there were about 10-15 people there from what I remember and someone told me that this guy named Jim wanted to meet me.  I sat and talked to Jim, but he really wasn’t my type.  Perfectly nice guy, but there was no physical attraction there…

What I didn’t know was that ANOTHER guy at this birthday dinner was interested in me as well – it was SOM.  He was a little more my type (although I was later told that he was ugly by more than one person – I suppose love IS blind).  I can’t remember if he asked for my number that night or not, but anyway, eventually it was on.  He was into me, I was into him – I invited him one night to come watch me play the guitar (I did a couple shows in college).  He didn’t kiss me that night, and I couldn’t tell what his deal was.  I learned later, he showed up like a looney tune at Amelia’s house – he scared the crap out of her by popping up at her kitchen window at midnight while she was doing the dishes.  He had to tell her that the moment had been perfect, he didn’t kiss me, he messed up and OOPS, did he forget to mention he still had a girlfriend?!

Yes, he HAD forgotten to mention that really really important aspect.  I found out about it later, but I was young and dumb and didn’t really care.  He broke up with her and started dating me.  The first night we had sex was…


SOM had problems in the bedroom, he said.  He had a difficult time keeping it up – no babe, don’t worry, it’s not you – it’s me!  It was a bit odd since he was only 4 years older than me at the time.  I was not used to dealing with guys who couldn’t get it up.  But I was kind and understanding and for whatever reason, I liked this guy so I gently placed my hand on his and said, “Don’t worry – we’ll work on it.  It will be fine.”

But it wasn’t fine.  This problem plagued our entire relationship. I was 20, I was in college and I had a boyfriend – I wanted to have sex, and LOTS of it.    It gradually became clear to me that the problem in the bedroom likely stemmed from problems in his life.  SOM couldn’t  for the life of him, finish college. He had 8 units to go – 2 classes! For those classes he only had to write a few essays and hand them into the professors and they said they would pass him and he could earn his degree.  It was my 3rd year in college and I was studying for my LSAT’S.  I would drag him to the library with me and make him sit there to write his essays while I studied for my test.  I couldn’t understand what his problem was – I was taking a full load of classes, working 20-30 hours a week AND studying for the LSAT – these 8 units had been hanging over his head for at LEAST a year.  He was like, a 6th year senior or something ridiculous like that…

Anyways, I tried EVERYTHING to turn this guy on – I asked him what would help and I tried every request he made.   I was trying to be an understanding girlfriend and really…just wanted to please the guy.  Plus it was doing a number on my self esteem and I thought there was something wrong with me.  But try as I might, nothing worked.  The little soldier just wouldn’t salute.   Then one day, at the beginning of my first year in law school (and yes the rumors are true – it’s HELL) he says to me:

“Remember how you asked me what my fantasies were?”

“Yes?” I said, intrigued.  Could’ve sworn I wore those boots for him once…

“Well…there was one more I didn’t tell you about, ” he said sheepishly.

“Ok babe, well tell me what it is.” I was a bit hopeful – maybe there was something I could do to help us in the bedroom.

“Well…I’ve always had this fantasy of… you know… I think it would be really sexy if a girl…I’ve always wanted a girl to…” his voice trailed off…was he going to ask me to stick my thumb in his ass or something?

“Yes?” I said cautiously.

“Wear a strap on.”

“Wear a WHAT?!?” No.  Freaking.  Way. Did he just say that to me?

“Yeah, I dunno, I’ve always just thought it would be sexy…would you want to do that?”

I didn’t even hesitate. I didn’t even PRETEND to consider it.

“No. Nope.  Uh, uh. Can’t do that.”

He was disappointed.  But I didn’t hear anything about it for awhile.  Now, I consider myself sexually open minded – but that was just one thing I wouldn’t do.  Other people have their druthers in the bedroom – mine are:  That I am a woman and I don’t have a penis. Women get bent over – NOT MEN! (at least not in my bedroom ) You as the man have the penis and you place it into my vagina and/or mouth.  I do not want to anally violate you, a  man who was 6’2″ and weighed in at about 250 pounds. On top of that he was hairy everywhere but his head (why I keep dating hairy fat guys, I have no idea, but I think that’s for a different post).  Just the thought of it makes my non-existent strap on penis, go flaccid.  Why I didn’t break up with him right there and then just goes to show you how much of a sucker I was/am…

He STILL hadn’t finished those 8 units.  On top of that he had LIED to his parents about finishing them.   As my first year in law school progressed, the arguments would go up and down, back and forth – Christmas came and he showered me with gifts and a trip to New York City for New Years Eve.  We returned from the trip and the fighting started again…the sex problems were even worse…I just didn’t know what to do.  The fighting was AWFUL and I was so unhappy.  And I was naive enough to believe that if I just kept hanging on, everything would be fine…

One month before finals the fighting hit an all time high and in the heat of one of them he said, “Remember that thing I asked you to do?  Well…when you said no, I went online and found someone who would.”

This mother fucker had cheated on me with a chick who agreed to wear a STRAP ON? AND ON TOP OF THAT HE WAS UGLY?! AND DIDN’T HAVE A JOB?! WHO THE HELL DID HE THINK HE WAS?!?  That was it. That’s all I needed to hear.  I was DONE.

Finals came and went and I passed them all (thankfully) I decided to have a party at my house and ended up hooking up with one of the guys there – tall, handsome, funny, and Mr. Right Now.  When he left in the morning I gave him a bunch of SOM’s clothes…Then I made a point of telling SOM about it.  It was pretty awesome.

By the way, SOM stands for STRAP ON M—

(I found out that SOM recently married – I wondered if she strapped one on for him…)

Posted in Guys are Jerks, Hm. Inneresting..., Sexytime, SOM, The Men in My Life | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments »

The Beta in My Life

Posted by ashleeekaren on October 2, 2010

Martin is my Beta.

Martin and I met when I was about 22 or 23.  I was going into my 2nd year in law school.  He had gone to my high school but we weren’t there at the same time.  He used to play basketball down at the park with my guy friends, who I would sometimes join.  We met at a bar and dated for about 2 years, give or take a few months.

Martin is 5 years older than me.  We always got along so well – barely ever fought, the sex was good (not mind blowing, but perfectly satisfactory), and I felt like I was in a happy, healthy relationship.  My friends loved him, my Dad loved him, my Mom…not so much, but that’s only because he never graduated from college.  At the time we met he was doing a job that required a lot of manual labor, but he was laid off.  He immediately found an office job in the same industry and started off in an entry level position.

I remember one night we were getting ready for bed and he walked in from the bathroom.  He was hairy as hell and a little tubby but I remember thinking, “Dammit he’s fat and hairy — but I love him.”

One day about a year and half into the relationship he said to me out of the blue, “I don’t think I want to have kids.”  I was puzzled since we never had talks about kids or marriage – I was only 23 or 24 at the time and hadn’t even graduated law school. I wasn’t ready to have those conversations with him.  But here it was, ready to slap me in the face.

“Like, ever?” I asked.

“Yeah, like ever.”

Hmmmm…. that was going to be a problem.  At that point in my life I was 70/30 about having kids, 70 for having kids, 30 for not.  (As I’ve gotten older, that number vacillates between 50/50 and 60/40.)  I didn’t know whether I wanted to be with someone who was completely 100% against it.

It wasn’t that I wanted to have kids right away.  It was more that I didn’t want to waste my time with someone who couldn’t even consider the possibility.  It was going to be a deal breaker eventually.  But in the meantime, I let him know I was kinda disappointed with that and didn’t really talk about it again.

A few months go by, no arguing, no fighting and then he says, “I’m thinking of moving.”  I thought that was odd since he had just moved into his apartment…

He was feeling restless. He wanted out of his town – he had lived there all his life and wanted to know what it felt like to live somewhere else.  He was going to go up north and stay with a friend.  Just quit his job and go.  I wanted to go with him, but I knew that wasn’t going to happen.  I had just gotten an offer to work my dream job – there was no way I was giving that up based on this flight of fancy upon which he was about to embark.

A few months later, he was gone.  I had begged him not to go since he was insistent there was no way we could do a long distance relationship.  I was willing to try – he wasn’t.  It was awful. I stayed in bed for days and then started going out and dating everything in sight.  That’s when I eventually met T—-, the next love/catastrophe of my life.

After a couple months of Martin being gone, he called me one day and admitted to me that he had made a mistake. He wanted to come back. He wanted to get back together. He wanted to have kids and get married. He always wanted those things but he was just too scared to admit it and he had to lose what he had in order to understand how important it was to him.

By then it was too late – I had fallen for T—- but I didn’t have the balls to tell Martin, especially since I did still love him.  So even though I was still angry with him, I told him to come back – he did and we decided to go ring shopping.  T—- and I had had a falling out and he wasn’t around so Martin was the perfect fill in.  Plus he was such a nice guy and he loved me so much….

Eventually I cheated on Martin with T—-.  I felt awful and told Martin about it.  We broke up.  I felt awful and the only thing that made me feel better was T—-.  Eventually we got serious and I kept Martin in the back of my mind…

Anyway, Martin and I are friends now and have been ever since I broke up with T—-.  I haven’t had sex with him, although we did mess around a few times here and there…even though he is the world’s nicest guy I just don’t know if we are compatible anymore.  The things that I didn’t care about really bug me now –  he’s not very articulate, he didn’t graduate college, and he has no goals or ambitions other than to have fun.  He still lives in the same crummy apartment he did 7 years ago and has nothing put away for a house or anything like that.

I suppose it may be hard to understand why those things bug me so much now without the benefit of the full story of T—-.  That story, even after 2 years, is a bit too raw for me, but I plan to post about it soon.

I want an Alpha AND a Beta.  Is that even possible?

Posted in Martin, T----, The Men in My Life | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments »

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