The Dart Frog

Had I posted this tale as soon as yesterday, my attitude would have been completely different.  Unfortunately, we all know the drill.  You invest time & energy into talking to someone, getting to know them, going out on a date/dates and all the sudden without warning -- poof!  They've darted, leaving you to scratch your head and harbor over what you did wrong.

I have met a slew of dart frogs while dating, and it always frustrates me greatly because I tend to over-analyze everything.  I ponder over things that I said or did and can't help but feel insecure.  As a result of that, when the inevitable time comes when I need to "be the bad guy" and tell someone that I'm not interested, I actually do it.  I tell them the truth and don't just dart.

Today, my eyes were opened.  After telling a guy that I didn't see it going anywhere, he demanded explanation.  I started it with compliments and things that he did right and then gave him constructive criticism.  Perhaps the compliments weren't the right approach, but it's just in my nature to try to be nice and not hurt someone's feelings.

This conversation led to a 3 hour text exchange where he argued every single point that I made, accused me of not getting to know him well enough and literally begged for another chance.  I've told him repeatedly that it wasn't him, but I couldn't keep seeing him when I KNEW that he wasn't the one for me and that it shouldn't be so difficult this early on -- to which of course he responded, "Everything worth having takes work.  And you're worth fighting for."  Dagger through my heart.

If I didn't feel so strongly that he was a square peg trying to fit into a round hole, I would probably feel guilty enough to go out with him again.  It's made me realize the logic behind the dart frog.  Perhaps it isn't the most mature or kind thing to do, but it certainly is easier.  Rejection is never an easy pill to swallow, but neither is serving up a dose of honesty.  

Lesson learned: the dart frog doesn't always leave because of something that I did wrong.  It's like that fabulous dress in the store that you love on the hanger, but it doesn't fit your figure.  That's not to say it won't look awesome on someone else, but it's just not for you.  I'd much rather keep shopping than invest more time, energy & emotion unnecessarily.

Take A Picture. It Won't Last Longer.

Special thanks to our guest frog blogger, Karen K. from Irvine, CA!

"Having recently signed up for online dating, I read a great bio of a "currently separated" man from a nearby beach city that was staying with a friend inland, about an hour away.  We started communicating with email, and then he suggested texting.

When I asked if he would like to meet for a drink, he suggested we meet at a hotel!  I responded by asking, 'How do I know you aren’t a rapist, murderer or going to slip me the date rape drug?' 

His response, 'I don’t live in fear of possibilities.  I’d never leave my home or get in a car.  That thinking feeds fear and will keep you where you are and says you don’t trust your instincts.'

My response was, 'I trust my gut instinct.  That says be smart.  Don’t meet a man I met online at a hotel for sex when I haven’t even talked to him on the phone.  I’m all for living in the moment and taking a risk, but I have two kids at home that I am responsible for.  I can’t let my desires cloud my smartness.'

He came back with:  'OK.  Don’t mistake instincts for logic.  They are very different.'

Later he decided to share that he was feeling really turned on by me and my photos and sent me a snapshot of his manhood."

Newsflash, frog!!!  Taking a picture certainly won't make this relationship last any longer!

Don't forget to submit your tales to us at frog.tales@yahoo.com

Leave Him in the Frog Pond

After a wonderful first date, I was really looking forward to our second.  Being with him was so natural and comfortable - conversation came easy, lots of joking and laughter, affectionate, and a little friendly competition on the miniature golf course following dinner (That's right, ladies.  He not only paid for drinks and a great 3 course meal, but I also got a round of mini golf!)  At the end of the night, he invited me to a baseball game the next day (which unfortunately I had to decline due to scheduling conflicts).

A few days after our date, I had to leave to go out of town for a long weekend.  We continued to talk while I was away, and he made plans to see me the night that I got back (slightly eager).  We had a nice dinner, but the conversation this time really got me.  He opened up about his personal life, but then came information about family.  Apparently every member of his family is on a minimum of their 3rd spouse.  He grew up with parents who continuously fought, and he uttered the statement, "After what I've seen in my lifetime of marriage, I have no interest.  It's a waste of time, energy and money."  Wow, not quite the romantic ending that I had in mind!

Trying to look past the comments at dinner and not judge him based on his family, we went back to my place to watch some TV, and I convince him to see the awesomeness that is Bachelor Pad.  For those of you who watch, it was the episode when crazy Melissa is crying because Blake is flirting with Holly, and she's just heartbroken because the love of her afternoon life has moved his attention on to someone more sane and stable.

After viewing the scene, he turns to me and in all seriousness says, "There's something that I need to tell you.  I would NEVER allow myself  to get hurt like these people because I won't ever allow myself to fall in love because it is guaranteed to end.  When we aren't together, I will not think about you or talk about you.  I'm just not going to put myself out there to get hurt.  It just won't happen.  Ever."

This honestly makes me so sad that someone could feel this way, but I'm not willing to invest my time and emotion to try to help him "see the light."  If a guy is content living the rest of his life alone in the frog pond, we have to accept it and move on quickly - regardless of how cute, comfortable or charming he may appear to be.

Was This a Date or an Interview?

We all know that dating becomes a bit like hiring for a job.  You have the usual questions that everyone asks on a first date, but NORMALLY there's something from those questions that can spark a real conversation.  When a lull develops, you divert back to your list of questions until you find another good topic.

I went on a date with a guy who worked as a sports reporter for the news.  It quickly became evident that he spent way too much time working and not enough time talking to real people.  We sit down and it starts with a series of questions.  As quickly as I could answer, another one would come.  I felt like the coach at halftime when the reporter is trying to get as much information as possible before the coach scurries away to the locker room.  It was the fastest moving date and left me completely exhausted - and thirsty from talking so much!

It is nice to have someone take an interest in your life, but not when you feel like there's a checklist being run through as quickly as possible.  The only information that I received about him was when he disagreed with my answer.  He did provide me with insight on how I was an improvement from his previous two dates - one apparently listed that she was never married and had no children - but decided to bring all THREE of her children on the first date.  The other also said she was unmarried but had a tan line on her ring finger.  I suppose I should count my blessings that I haven't met those frogs yet.  And on the plus side, at least the whole interview only lasted an hour.

Toad Breath

I apologize for my delay in writing - I've been so busy collecting material that I haven't had time to write about it!  This is going to be a lounging evening at home just blogging about my frog tales :)

Now I realize that there are some natural bodily issues that people just can't control.  Having said that, toad breath is NOT one of them.  Thanks to the folks at Proctor & Gamble and Johnson & Johnson, there is a wide array of products from toothbrushes (with every type of bristle, handle, color and even vibration available), toothpaste, mouthwash, mints, gum...you get the point.  It doesn't matter if you have sensitive gums, prefer the flavor of cinnamon over spearmint (which I do not) or need sugar free options - there IS a product for you.  Like the Men's Warehouse, I guarantee it.

After going on a dinner date recently, at the end of the evening, he leaned toward me for the kill kiss.  He hadn't even reached near my face when it knocked me over like a Mac truck.  I almost gagged in his face from the foul odor coming from his mouth.  Uhhhmmm HELLOOOOO???  If you're going to invest the time, energy and money into taking a girl to dinner, you should consider taking a few minutes to handle the disaster going on inside your mouth!  Peace out, toad breath!

Ice Frog, You’re Not in the NBA!

Last night I went to a local sports bar to check out the Chargers vs. Cowboys football game and have drinks/dinner.  The conversation flowed easily, and we had a lot in common.  He was “in-the-know” of really interesting things happening in Dallas – the latest art gallery exhibits, theater shows, live music, restaurant openings – very cultured.  I’m thinking, “Finally, a man with a sophisticated palate for the arts that also likes sports!”

Throughout our conversation, I can see his eyes drifting south to my chest.  I didn’t feel that my shirt was inappropriate when I left home, but I find myself constantly pulling it up thanks to his wandering eye.  About midway through the 4th quarter, he reaches into his 3rd rum & coke (which I will give him a slight break had looked far more like rum than anything else) to pull out a piece of ice.

He shoots!!!!  He scores!!!! My mind goes wild!!!!

To my complete and utter disbelief, straight down my shirt goes the freezing, wet ice cube!  He giggles like a school girl, and I can do nothing but shake my head and roll my eyes.  Newsflash, you’re not a professional basketball player nor are you a young boy where this childish behavior could be acceptable. 

The Player Got Played & The Toad Felt Like a Donkey!

The more time I spend in the dating pond, the more that I question if there are any good single men left.  I've started to think this blog should have been named Pig Tales for all the egotistical slimeballs who think they are God's gift to the world!

I had been dating this guy - spending hours each night on the phone with him and even planning to bring him home with me in a few weeks.  Sure, he had moments of question but at this point, I would probably fall over if a man didn't.

Over conversation, he had mentioned a few times little jabs about how I needed "domestic boot camp" to be sure that I could cook, clean and do his laundry.  All of which resulted in a smart comment about how he should earn enough money for hired help and not expect ME to do it.  This is 2011, and I have a career - probably more successful than yours.  I'm not taking on your housework or doing things "because you say so."

Well then came the bomb - dropped just as seriously as a heart attack.  I was informed that the Bible calls women to be submissive and that I needed to learn to keep my opinions to myself.  He was the man and therefore the leader in our relationship so I may be "consulted" from time to time on major decisions, but at the end of the day, everything was his decision.  He didn't like that I had suggested a different restaurant for our dinner date.  He was the man and therefore called the shots.  If I had a problem with that, he was a "hot commodity" and could easily find someone else.

Needless to say, that was the last time I saw him.  Upon hearing the story, my friend took it upon herself to find him on the dating website.  She sent him a message that said, "WOW.  Really???" to which he so cockily quipped back a response about how much she must want him.  After a brief exchange to play along, she was appalled.  Still convinced she so desperately wanted him, he sent her a text calling her "sugar lips" (a pet-name he attempted with me that was quickly shot down).  A picture is worth a thousand words:

I wish more than anything that I could have seen the look on his face when he opened that picture and realized that we knew each other.  She proceeded to let him have it with a "Dating 101" and informed him how a relationship is a partnership, and women are not a possession.  I'm grateful to have friends who have my back, and although his pathetic attitude will likely never change, I'm happy to know that at least for a brief moment in time
the player got played & the toad felt like a donkey!

Cheap Frog

I've encountered my fair share of cheap frogs over the years.  I always offer to pay my portion on a first date (although I will admit that I would be shocked if someone took me up on it - amazingly enough, no one has yet to do so, but I know the day is coming).

One of my all time favorites is from last year.  I met this guy for an afternoon coffee date (sign number one that he's going to be cheap) that went really well.  Great conversation and lots of laughter.  We were really enjoying each other's company - so much so that the afternoon turned into evening and then to night.  A few times I subtly drop questions like his favorite restaurant, type of food, and if he's tried any of the restaurants in the area.  He finally says to me, "Wow, it's gotten really late.  Are you hungry?"  Of course I answer yes, after all it is now about 8:30 p.m.  To my complete shock he says, "Me too.  Guess I should be heading out."

This weekend I had another encounter of the cheap kind.  Remember the double header from last week?  See The Collector for more info on part 2.  Well, I actually liked lunch (part 1) enough to talk to him for hours each night last week and saw him again (that will be another post to come).  But after a great dinner, he pushes the check in my direction and informs me that it's my turn.  You've got to be kidding me!!

I don't need a man to buy me anything; I can afford my own food, drinks or movie ticket.  I don't expect to go to the nicest restaurants in town or be showered with gifts.  But if you can't cough up $15 for a meal in the very beginning, all signs point to cheap frog!

Have your own tales to share?  Send them to frog.tales@yahoo.com!

The Collector

One of my biggest pet peeves is when a guy says he is 5'6" (same height as me), and I show up to a man who is 5'3" -- my experience has taught me to wear flats for these occasions, but did you really think that I wouldn't notice the few inches that you are missing?!

So I arrive for round 2 of my double header to a man shorter than advertised, but I'm not shallow enough to leave the restaurant over his height so we sit down and have a drink.  He is a little shy, but he has a great job plus several rental properties, shows pictures of his adorable dog, very close to his family - seems to have his stuff together (isn't it amazing that these qualities are now enough to make you excited about a guy?!)

About 20 minutes in, he asks, "So do you have any collections?"  I'm thinking, only a collector would ask this.  He proceeds to tell me about his movie posters, life sized Darth Vader and cardboard Spiderman.  He informs me that all of these are stored in his media room so I chalk it up to the fact that everyone has their own unique interests (and at least it was better than Mr. At Least I Lived to Tell the Tale -- see previous post for more).

Then the fun starts.  He talks to me for over an hour about his airline miles collection! Apparently a blog exists of promotions for earning frequent flier miles - everything from taking surveys, watching advertisements and online shopping (all of which he does on a daily basis).  I think to myself, "I love to travel so that's cool.  If this works out, I won't have to buy another plane ticket again."  Then he drops the bomb -- he has a spreadsheet to track all of his credit cards for frequent flier miles.  Apparently he opens accounts, keeps them open for the required time period to earn the bonus miles and closes them before the annual fee hits.  He then waits the required time before reapplying to collect the bonus miles again.  He has a card for every major US airline in addition to select international airlines for destinations that he would like to visit.  

After dinner, we spend the remainder of the evening exchanging travel stories over another drink.  When the bill comes, he quickly reaches for it and says, "There are bonus miles for all purchases on this card over the weekend so I've got this." with a large smile like he had just scored a treasure to add to his collection.

I get home and was actually considering a second date with him.  Although his process is extreme, at least we shared some common interests, and he seemed to have a good head on his shoulders.  Then I get a midnight text asking if I'm still awake.  The conversation went south as he informed me about his evening activities & yet another collection --- porn.

At Least I Lived to Tell the Tale

The weekend was filled with frog tales including a double header (both lunch & dinner dates) on Sunday (more to come on those two later).  But first, I must update you all on the paramedic who was cynical, deranged and an obsessive caller - a real winner, huh?

This guy seemed like a jolly, level-headed guy.  He actually called instead of the impersonal text, which I really like (until he started with the 5+ calls per day in addition to the good morning/noon/night texts).  He's easy to talk to (better be as much as he calls) and has a quirky sense of humor.  He's a huge planner (a breath of fresh air from the procrastinators that I historically date) and has confirmed every detail of his January vacation (yes, 6 months in advance) from airfare, hotel, car rental, cruise, excursions...the whole thing!  In addition, he has already started PACKING!  He has the cruise-only items already in the suitcase and a list of the items that he will need to pack but are currently in use.  For those of you who know me, you are thinking this is my dream guy but continue reading.

So we sit down for dinner, and he proceeds to inform me how lucky I am that he dressed up for me.  Let me explain - he is wearing a black faded t-shirt, jeans that look like they came from 1981, and his white socks show with what looks like black jazz shoes.  I realize at this point that I'm in big trouble, but am trying to reason with myself that all he needs is a good makeover.  When the waiter comes by, he orders iced tea so I order a diet soda and immediately get the paramedic speech about how that causes bubbles in my brain and by 50 I will likely have total memory loss.  

He proceeds to describe his reservations about me due to the fact that I would choose to live in California for 5 years of my life.  He believes that celebrities have distorted humanity's view of reality and that everyone who lives in California has an obsession with fame, money and looks.  This guy isn't stereotypical or anything.

The conversation continues to get worse.  Throughout the course of my meal, he tells me about his "toy collection" which includes every type of gun imaginable.  I'm sorry, I don't want a man who likes to play with deadly weapons!  The creepiness continues as he describes his "passion" for horror movies and informs me of the grim reaper costume in his nightstand.

All I'm thinking is, "Check please!"  At least I lived to tell this tale!

Mr. Ribbit

Recently I was introduced by a friend to a guy who was my ideal type physically - tall, light hair and eyes, beautiful smile and a laid back, fun personality.  Instantly I felt a spark that sadly, I hadn't found since my last relationship ended in 2008.  Sure, there were the red flags: recently divorced, near 30 living with his parents, not a good job (but at least he had one) and king of procrastination.  But as so many women are guilty of, I thought I could help motivate him to find a new job, get a place and make things happen for himself.  I liked this guy a lot from the beginning - enough that I was willing to date potential.  Big mistake.  Women should never settle for a man that needs to be fixed.

When we were together, I felt a strange sense of nervousness and comfort at the same time.  His kisses felt like magic.  When my phone would display his name, I would feel that school girl giddy.  But the truth is, my phone didn't display his name as often as it should.  He was distant when we weren't together, and my gut kept telling me that he was involved with other people.  He was late for dates, would decline invitations to do things or reschedule our plans.  Clearly, not signs of someone who wants to be with you.

Contrary to how it may sound, I'm an intelligent, well-educated girl.  Did I know better? Sure, I did.  But for some reason, I had convinced myself that he could be prince charming eventually.  It was probably the way he smiled and kissed me that made me feel special.  But the truth is, he spoke in ribbit.  He would give me enough to keep me around, but never enough to ease the insecurity.  Mixed signals don't even begin to describe it.  I made excuses for him, convincing myself that it was due to his recent divorce and that he just liked me to the point it scared him.  Reality is, he didn't feel the way that I did but was not man enough to tell me.

After the "sorry I've been really busy" texts and cancelling on my birthday to leave me sitting home alone, I knew he was a frog.  Problem was, I still wanted to kiss that frog...and on some pathetic level, I still do.  It's funny how our heart is so much more powerful than our brain sometimes.  Like an idiot, I kept putting forth the effort for a few weeks, just to make plans with him that he cancelled by saying "Sorry, can't make it now.  I will call you later." He never called; just eventually posted pictures and a status update on Facebook that he was now in a relationship.

Ribbit is the ugliest and cruelest language.  Had I known the truth of how he felt, I could have saved myself the hours of over-analyzing, discussing with my girlfriends and wondering what I did wrong.  Truth is, it was completely my fault.  I was willing to settle for potential and should have walked away the first time I heard, "ribbit."  Prince charming won't be slimy, and he will make it clear that he wants nothing more than to spend time talking to and being with you.  Learn a lesson from my mistake - run fast from Mr. Ribbit and don't look back.  If you have to make an excuse for his behavior, he's a frog.

The Horn Toad

As we all know, horn toads exists everywhere, regardless of where you meet them.  The inner horn toad occasionally surfaces in them all, but sometimes it just blatantly obvious and disgusting.

As I previously mentioned, I signed up for online dating, the largest breeding ground for frogs.  So J had been emailing with me for some time and eventually asks to call me.  So we talk on the phone for over an hour with SO much in common.  We went to the same college (GEAUX LSU TIGERS for any readers out there wondering), had lived blocks from each other in Baton Rouge, and I even went to high school with some people he knew.  We had a great conversation that ended with him asking me to meet up the next day.

So the following afternoon rolls around, and I haven't heard where or when we are meeting up.  So I send him a text asking the plans (because it has been killing me that we don't already have this figured out, but I'm trying to play it cool), and he responds "Come over to my place."  Now I literally laugh and say "This must be a joke" to which I figure out, he's really serious.  And after a brief text exchange, I quickly realize his intentions for this "date."

I have met so many slimy men over the years (as I'm sure all of you have as well), but it's hard to believe that someone would expect the first time you meet to be in his bedroom!  If a man can't even take you out on a first date, he's a horn toad and not worth your time or energy.  We are women -- not a piece of meat!  Show some respect.

Guest Frog Blogger!

Special thanks to Stephanie K. from Irvine, CA for this frog tale!

My first date with Mr. C was a lunch date. It was fun and he wore nice jeans, an army green shirt and a nice pair of shoes. He was a little bit quiet, but we laughed and he asked to take me out again.

Saturday night rolled around, and I was actually ready on time. The doorbell rang, and I couldn't believe what I saw - Mr. C was wearing tapered jeans. Yes, TAPERED jeans! Nice shirt, nice shoes but tapered jeans. Where do men buy tapered jeans nowadays, and why do I attract those kinds of men? I let him in and grabbed my purse.

He then proceeded to ask, “Would you mind driving? I want to have a couple drinks tonight.” Did he just ask me to drive so that he could get drunk? I hesitantly agreed but grabbed my keys, and we were out the door. He decided that we were going to go to a chain Asian restaurant. We got there and put his name in for the hour and a half wait. The bar was too crowded so we sat down. I was tired from being out all day and wasn’t as talkative as usual. He was naturally quiet so there were some awkward moments.

An hour into the wait, Mr. C wanted a beer. As he went to the bar, I wondered if I should call a friend to save me but decided to give him a chance. An hour and a half later, after seeing his white sock (which made the tapered jeans even worse) and some pretty boring conversation, he proceeded to ask me if I was okay and if anything was wrong. I said I was fine and apologized for being so quiet. He asked me the same question a second time. Again, I said I was fine. He then proceeded to say that he was good at reading people and that he thought that I wasn’t interested. He was right though I didn’t say that out loud. I said, “Do you still want to have dinner?” He then said, “No, not really. I’m sorry.”

I was completely shocked. I handed him the restaurant's pager and told him to take his name off the waiting list, and I would drive him to his car. He said, “It’s okay. You go, and I’ll walk back to your house.” Are you kidding me?! He took the pager up, and I walked out the door. My first call was to my friend, and as I started to drive home (which was really across the street), I spotted Mr. C walking back to his car. I went a different route and waited for him to leave. Later that evening, I met up with my friend for dinner, where we spent the evening laughing about my unbelievable experience.

Lesson learned - never date men who wear tapered jeans!

Don't forget, submit your tales to frog.tales@yahoo.com

Life in the Shallow Water

Having recently moved from Orange County, California, the land of men who are more pretty than me and speak in "toad"-ally, I have had my fill of the superficial.  Coming to Texas, I had high hopes for true Southern gentlemen, but thus far, I have been quite disappointed.

I recently signed up for an online dating service and have been continuously surprised by the obsession with a woman's appearance.  I believe that Hollywood and the media have played a large part in disrupting a man's view of how women "should" look.  Long gone are the days when meat on your bones was a status symbol or women with a figure like Marilyn Monroe were considered beautiful.  Today, it appears that most men are just looking for stick-thin model types.

After speaking with a guy online, texting and eventually talking on the phone with a suitor from this website, I received a shocking request.  After scheduling our date, he comments, "Based on your photos, you tend to have fluctuations in your weight, and I see on your profile that your body type is listed as curvy.  And I love curvy, really I do.  Assuming we are talking about the Jennifer Lopez or Kim Kardashian curvy."  For one of the first times, I was truly speechless.  He then proceeded to ask me to go take a picture of myself in a swimsuit so he could determine if my curves would be acceptable.  

That's when I realized, frogs live in the shallow water.

Frog Tales

From early childhood, young girls have been ingrained with the idea of finding their "prince charming" and living "happily ever after."  We all know the familiar story - the princess kisses the frog that magically turns into her prince.  As many times as I've read the stories and watched the movies (the theme that continues into the "romantic comedies" of adulthood), no one ever told me how many frogs there would be along the way. 

Throughout my adolescent and adult life, I've found myself kissing many frogs - holding onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, he would be my prince charming.  Thus far, I've come to realize that if it looks like a frog, talks to you in "ribbit" (or might as well with all the mixed signals or lack of communication) and is slimy, rest assured, he is a frog.  Despite the many warning signs they give us along the way, I've learned through my own experience as well as that of my girlfriends, that women continue to date "frogs" in hopes of helping them find their inner prince.  In the words of He's Just Not That Into You author Greg Behrendt, "Don't date potential!"

This blog was designed for women to share their stories in the hopes that it would serve as therapy for those tired of and honestly in awe of the dating disasters; as an example to men of what NOT to do; and to our mothers & married friends who just can't understand why we are still single.

Every girl deserves her "happily ever after," but until prince charming comes, these are our frog tales.