Ask me how many times I got "Hey, wassup, hello" as an opening line last year. The answer is too many. DO BETTER...
This song has been exhausted, but this remix tho...
Deep in the Feelz
I spent my time between X-mas and New Years drinking multiple bottles of wine on various evenings while discussing the Feelz with one of my closest girlfriends.
She had just realized how deep in them she was. I was coming down from my own realization for a few weeks already. I was fine compared to the fresh emotions she was feeling. The Feelz are no joke.
We’re pretty similar in a sense that we can’t easily relate to the emotional side of women. Our hearts are disconnected from our vaginas. We don’t seek much from casual encounters and we’ll never hunt you down, text you first or appear needy—that’s just not our style. We also have our guards high up with a personal space bubble large enough to match.
It always starts off innocent enough right (via hook-up culture)? You begin by learning about another human being who you find attractive enough to have sex with. This dude provides adequate enough D that he becomes a consistent source of sexual activity. You find that you can actually stand this guy. He can probably make you laugh or *GASP* maybe you actually have hella shit in common and you just click.
Cool. You just found steady D who you can kick it with.
But over time you get comfortable, you take note of each other’s habits and personalities, if you’re decent human beings you keep in touch during normal business hours, you genuinely start to care for the other person’s well being… and then it fucking snow balls…
You let him see you fresh out the shower.
Hair tie. Sweat pants. Chillin' with no makeup on. These are deadly lines. This is you raw and in your most comfortable state. This is you not giving a fuck about your appearance and him noticing. Trust me, they notice this point. They mentally marked it into their memories.
You let him hold your hand and you’re not even in bed—AND YOU LIKE IT.
The Feelz have full-on attacked you at this point. You’re screwed, may God bless you. You’re in for some shit. I fully believe that the hand is closer to the heart than the vagina—at least for me. Yeah I said it. My achillies heel still stands.
So here you are… deep in the fuckin feelz. Good luck with that, no seriously—good luck.
Cross-overs
I’m always trying to note that spark that turns relationships into something significant, as little or big as they are. I’m not even speaking romantically, I’m just speaking in general terms.
I guess I’ll call it a “cross-over.”
Ultimately we all decide who makes the switch from co-worker or acquaintance to friend, from fuck-buddy to Feelz destroyer or whatever else is relevant to you at the moment.
I can recall the exact point where Melissa became my genuine homegirl. It was our second day on vacation in the Dominican Republic. I joined in on a girls trip despite only knowing Iris, our mutual friend who was the master planner. I had just moved to NY and had a serious “down for whatever” attitude. Melissa and I only met once before, at an Easter brunch a few weeks prior and even then we had only briefly chatted. On that second day of vacation I found myself on the beach sharing my entire life story, divorce and all. Fact: I never openly discuss my history in person, especially to anyone new. I refuse to give people my past as an initial first impression. But there we were, lounging in the sun, getting tan as fuck and spilling our entire romantic pasts to one another. My intuition told me it was ok to open up to her. It turns out we had a lot in common and clicked immediately. I don’t know many women who can finish lyrics when I recite them out loud, she can. Next thing you know I’d make the trek from NY to Philly in snow storms just to visit her and she'd take bus rides out to Brooklyn on random weekends. Since then we must’ve been on 3 or 4 trips together. Now here we are, on the coast where we belong, trying to navigate life in our early 30’s in SF as smoothy as possible.
Law was my accounts director back East at our previous place of employment. For the last six months of being coworkers he sat across from me and we distracted each other 30% of the entire time discussing random bullshit. Imagine two kids in the same group in school causing a ruckus and getting all the other kids hyped and off-track, that was us. His NY send-off for me was a visit to a strip club in the Bronx in which he would pay for a lap dance. The week leading up to the visit he would lecture me to not to be shy in front of the strippers. Fool, I got this. I just went to KOD, twice. Shit. When we got to the strip club the exotic dancer of my choice reversed roles and forced me give her a lap dance instead. Bitch, that’s your job, but ok… Law said he didn’t know who to throw money on, me or the stripper. Obviously I didn’t get the money, despite being freshly unemployed, but that was the true spark to our friendship. Anyone else can only be so lucky to have such a story. Now I get offended when he goes on trips and doesn’t warn me about his exact departure dates. You couldn’t fuckin’ text me while you were in line at security at the airport?!? I got lightweight salty about that and he made up for it by calling me twice while he was international. I realize that sounds like “boo shit,” personally I just want to know if you’re unavailable to receive my barrage of random texts. All I’m asking for is a heads up, you know… friend to friend. Today I woke up to a text of a screen capture of typed list entitled: “Reasons why I fucks with Kate.” Why’d you write this? How many people did you write lists about? It was a pretty legit list if I do say so myself. I still don’t know how or why it came about but I thanked him.
Adulthood is a hell of a trip, these sparks are rare, take note.
Excuses. Excuses.
I am an uncommonly objective person. I can separate just about anything from my personal feelings, at least I try to. I think my robotic analytic thought process makes me less human. I have a high tolerance for bullshit, pain (emotional & physical) and am supplied with an extreme level of patience. When it’s my turn to take… I TAKE, mainly because I was the one always giving for so long.
3+ years ago I learned to become less emotional. I had to accept that other peoples choices weren’t meant to hurt me, as hurtful as they were. I learned to move on as fast as my heart would allow me to, because that’s how I learned to survive.
I fail to realize not everyone views situations with the same mindset I have. I forget that everything I write is up for interpretation when I write so ridiculously honest, I just hope you all take it in with a grain or an entire mound of salt.
Sometimes I fuck up and I make poor or selfish choices, mostly because I just want to feel—something. I’m a good person who occasionally does bad things, I’m a work in progress. I’m trying but ultimately I can still be a disappointment.
I’m still human after all. Excuses. Excuses.
Signs vs. Facts / Heart vs. Brain
So… I kind of figured.
I observed all of the signs as they came along. I tried to ignore them because signs are not facts and my analytical ass and the brain prefers facts.
HOWEVER… My alert heart was taking notes on all the signs.
At some point “good morning” texts became standard, once in a while they were back2back because you’d send a “good night” text from the previous evening. It’s full circle when you want to be the first/last person in touch with a particular human being. I didn’t want to get used to these, so I did my best not to.
I noticed you became concerned with my shitty sleeping patterns, enough to provide suggestions and aids to try to improve my sleep. I just took it as expert advice, even though you’d continually ask me how well I slept nearly every day.
You’d send texts when you were annoyed/frustrated with situations. Anyone can receive great news, I knew we were crossing into Feelz territory when you’d send me a text with various expletives in the middle of the day. Thankfully to your advantage I never thought: “Why the fuck is he complaining to me right now?” I actually thought this was cute. *GAG*
I guess I should’ve known when you came by with nausea medicine, saltine crackers and bananas when I felt like I was going to die from my Vegas comedown. Perhaps it could’ve all made sense after you delivered orange juice when I had just returned from a visit to the ER. I shook off those instances as fast as I could—you just had genuine concern for a friend, you know.
Maybe I should’ve accepted it when you needed to tell me I was important to you and needed to hear it reciprocated. That was a clear cut sign… still not a fact tho.
I probably could’ve lightweight believed when you actually confessed you loved me. BUT… We were both drunk as shit that night and I refuse to believe anything said beyond a legal driving BAC level. What a terrible time to discuss feelings. Also, it’s interesting how I can blackout for 80% of an evening and still mentally capture you at the exact moment you choose to confess your love to me. HAHA. I probably have to thank some deep subconscious women’s psyche skill for allowing me to record that portion of the night in my brain. We also both pretended it didn’t happen, so there’s that fact.
Lastly, I didn’t really think you were jealous about the Firefighter or the latest dude that didn’t make the cut, although you said you felt that way. You always just want to hear my stories and you're either encouraging or comparative. I will admit I failed to realize you stopped becoming encouraging a while ago.
Those are enough signs right? Any normal (non-guarded / undamaged) person would have probably guessed that you were in love with them by experiencing even just a few combinations of the signs above. My heart was constantly trying to tell me so.
Nah, not my super scarred ass. You had to let me know, point blank: “You know I’m in love with you, right?”
OHH. OK. WOW. SHIT.
And with that declaration all signs just confirmed the fact, brain could no longer deny it.
When it came to my end I guess my brain tried to downplay all the signs my heart sent.
I should’ve known when I tried to track down one of those fucking Finals snapbacks. All you said was “I wanted to order one and they already sold out.” Then there I was... checking 3 brick & mortar stores and scouring the internet for that shit. I know it was your birthday, but damn… I never felt compelled to give you any physical token until that moment and I didn't stop until I found it.
Maybe it was obvious when I kept track of your long and arduous job search. I definitely should’ve known when I added you to the “list of unemployed people” in my prayers. Why did I care so much? I cared cause I cared… bleh. Feelings are gross.
I guess I could’ve admitted it when I let you see me cry. I hate people seeing me cry. I hate it even more if I’m crying because of that person. Pride is my deadliest sin, I will run away before I allow people to witness me be emotional if they are the cause.
Personally the signs did not prove anything yet. I don’t even think I was in denial. Brain was putting heart in check like a fuckin boss. It wasn’t until after we hung up on a perfectly “harmless” hour-long phone conversation super recently where I couldn’t stop smiling. Then it hit like a ton of bricks and thats when I knew. Heart shitted all over brain... Heart destroyed brain.
FUCK. I think I’m in love with him.
FUUUUUUUCK.
So here we are, in a fucking mess, in love.
Unfortunately for us we’re not in a position where this love can be entertained, because facts. There are facts and facts and facts against me, you and us. So I’ll just stay in my lane and keep moving in the direction I was originally going. Sadly walking away from love is nothing new to me.
As depressing as that ending sounds I actually feel the opposite. I feel happy and empowered to have love confessed to me. I’m even proud of myself for being able to acknowledge it. I was honest when I said I wasn't going to tell you how I felt, but since you broke the feelings barrier I had to profess my own.
Heart beat the shit outta my brain this time around. Brain’s gonna take it from here, but thank you for letting heart feel.
<3
D.Glover
I love Gambino for a million reasons, none of which I have to explain. BUT THIS??? GAH.
Now Accepting Applications
I don't think I've ever come a cross a Scorpio man in my life. I also really like Taurus dudes, but we're explosive as fuck together. Shrugs. I'll still take them.
Demands Pt. 1
I want a complex secret handshake that confirms when we make bets. It means shit just got real, no backing out.
I want a series of odd questions that must be answered correctly in order to assure me that you are neither a clone, alien or robot. Just in case I believe you’ve been swapped out.
I want to go to the Maldives and stay in one of those individual huts on the water and have sex during the entire duration of the trip. It will no doubt be one of the most expensive trips ever, even if its just for an amazing background for sex.
I want to fall in love on a Tuesday. Someone once gave me solid rationale for why Tuesday is the shittiest day of the week. I agree, I want to reverse that outlook. So, I want to fall in love on a Tuesday. Gambino has a good line for this.
I want Doughbies delivered to my office. Some bitches like flowers (yeah I still like flowers), however—I want cookies delivered straight to my desk. *AHEM* Send both.
I want photos with every MLB mascot that I can catch. I don’t care if you don’t like baseball, you need to take the photos for my collection.
I want to experience sex on different drugs. Wait what? JK. Who said that?
I want kids, maybe two but at least one, that mainly look like me and only kinda like you. Unless you’re hella good looking or something and then we can go 50/50.
TBC. I have more demands than this.
Shot in the Dark
Three years ago I traded his ass in for a shot in the dark, and trust me—it was dark as fuck when I left him.
I was emotional and blind trying to navigate myself out of a blackout. Eventually light showed up in the form of new faces, relationships and opportunities, one by one. Slowly my life got brighter as days passed. It wasn’t completely noticeable at first, things would flicker before they became any type of solid source of light. Some wouldn’t stay lit, certain moments still seemed dim, but I’d push forward—it was my only choice. At least the darkness wasn’t so dark anymore, I was making progress.
Three years later the shot in the dark has led to a bright future, filled with dozens of people I would have never met, places I would’ve never seen, experiences I would’ve never had and a life I would’ve never known.
I got LEDs for days.
I Tried
Everyone says I’m too picky.
I won’t argue, I agree.
So I tried to prove a lot of you wrong this time around. I tried to tell myself I wasn’t so shallow. I gave the dude with a lack of style a chance, a guy with a cute face but one I would never pick out of a crowd. On our second date he asked: “Why’d you decide to go on a date with me?” I was honest with my response: “You’re not usually my type, but you’re probably a dude a should date.” He laughed and disagreed with me, trying to play off some bad boy past. I wasn’t convinced tho, square on the outside, square on the inside. BTW, he was in dire need of a haircut at the time. YUCK. Can I get points for getting over that and still continuing to see him?
I should’ve known we didn’t have much of a future when I was extremely lazy to get ready on the nights we had dates. I questioned just how little effort I could get away with. I wasn’t about to put on vampy lipstick and a pair of heels when homeboy wouldn’t even pay me a compliment. He was WEAK with the compliments. I also didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb next to this dude who thinks a polo shirt and a Members Only jacket is a sufficient outfit for a date on a Friday night with a woman he hasn’t had sex with yet.
After a particular date I texted a couple of my girls: “YO. I DON’T THINK THIS DUDE OWNS A FITTED CAP OR A FLANNEL SHIRT AND THAT FUCKING BOTHERS ME.”
Trust me, I realize how I sound. But I told you… I tried. I fucking tried.
So why’d I lead homeboy on for so long when I was obviously not as interested as he was? I was waiting for a spark or some chemistry that never came. I considered all the good things: he was fairly easy to talk to, we had no trouble agreeing on restaurants or entree choices to share and he had great taste in music. He was easy to spend time with but in the end I couldn’t find enough kindling to start a fire.
He wasn’t on my level and I knew it from the jump.
So can we please avoid all the unnecessary commentary in the future about how my standards are sky high, how I am impossible, how I’m too picky?
I know what I’m doing and I’m not the least bit disappointed that this dude bit the dust.
Let me be excited for the dude with the asshole sense of humor, who calls me out on my bullshit, compliments me after I take 1.5 hours to get ready, with an excellent haircut and wardrobe to match (don't forget provides amazing D).
And if you meet the version of me as a dude, please give him my phone number.
Pedestal
I put myself on a pedestal.
It begins a million miles high and I sit on it as I laugh at you or shake my head.
That doesn’t mean I’m unattainable. I fucking promise. I can also laugh with you and provide a ladder to get to me. Hell, I’ll probably meet you halfway, as long as you value what you’re getting. I’ll jump off of it once we’re equal.
The pedestal isn’t at a fixed height. It will adjust to you.
You just have to act right, respect me and work for it. If you don’t find that agreeable you can simply keep it moving. I’m sure there are other women out there who aren’t as difficult to reach, maybe you could try one of them.
I’m not one to apologize for my high self-worth, so I won’t. I am a complete package, with all the upgrades, features and highest desirable qualities. It doesn’t mean I think I’m for everyone, I’m not. I’m also stubborn, pretentious and a huge fucking headache sometimes.
I am worth everything that I am. That doesn’t mean I need your money. Theres a high possibility I make more than you. However I require being paid in other ways: respect, attention, affection and time.
Too expensive?
You can keep shopping then. I’ll stay on my pedestal.
Kauai
Surprisingly I didn’t cry when I arrived. I was apprehensive as hell about this vacation.
I was too busy trying to get my shit together. The lady at the rental car counter was a bit taken back that I was solo, she wanted to make sure I had some sort of company, whether that meant friends or family with me or on the island. I lied, I didn’t want anyone to know I was there by my lonesome, so I said: “I have friends who live here, in Kapaa…” I knew the island well enough to front, I pulled off the rest of our conversation. (I actually had to keep up with this story my entire trip, everyone wanted to know why my ass was solo every time I did an excursion/activity.) She ended up upgrading my car because we had the same birthdate and she was Filipina as well. Sometimes I’m not aware of my charm until I’m there turning it on.
I took off and drove in the direction of my hotel, it was way too early, only about 11:30 am. I figured I had nothing else to do, might as well try to check in.
Eventually he texted me, “How’s Kauai? How are the feelz? Are you ok?”
I told him it was nostalgic, but that I was ok and that I was really happy to be there. Kauai is sacred ground. It’s where we went on our honeymoon and it was our last vacation before we split. Our divorce was completely amicable, we didn’t have to split property, children, etc. However we agreed on one verbal contract: no sharing Kauai with anyone significant of the opposite sex. I’m sure we’ll break it someday, but for now—we both respect the rule. It’s my favorite. It’s his favorite. It would be a shame to keep it to ourselves.
Why did I pick Kauai out of all places? Cause I like to test myself. All. The. Fucking. Time.
I spent my days driving to/from familiar territory with “So Far Gone” blasting from a Jambox speaker in the passenger seat. I couldn’t figure out how to connect to Bluetooth, I tried, multiple times. Fucking technology. There’s a canopy of trees that cover the highway in this perfect arch when you’re coming from Poipu. I could’ve cared less about actually going to Poipu, I just wanted to recreate the drive of me falling in love with “So Far Gone.” 2009 was a hell of a year. I hate explaining to people why that album is my favorite, it’s too personal. No one will ever understand, except him.
On my last night I fucked up and forgot my charger in my hotel, so I was forced to put my phone on airplane mode and bask in my own company. I bought dinner in Hanalei and treated myself to a scoop of ice cream while sitting on a bench admiring fresh rainbows in the sky. I’ll have that one in my memory bank forever. My destination that evening was the most northern point of the island where I would catch the sunset. Amidst families, couples and plenty of other people I was the only one there alone, sitting in silence as the sun dipped further into the ocean while creating gradients you just don’t get in California.
For the first time in a long time I was alone, but I wasn’t lonely.
I drove back to Kapaa in what seemed like extreme darkness, windows rolled down, in silence (I can’t stand Hawaiian Reggae). When I finally hit an area with decent radio reception I left it on the one station I could stand. Fleetwood Mac’s “Dreams” came on and so I blasted that shit and sang and danced along (as best as I could in the driver’s seat), I’m all about having a soundtrack for my life.
The next day I packed up my belongings to return to reality. When my plane took off I got hit with an overwhelming amount of emotions. I have so many memories associated with that island, all so very different… but this time they were all just mine, and I was so pleased with that.
No sharing, just mine. Alone, but not lonely.