Tag Archives: Cleveland dating

I’m Sorry: An Apology Letter to My Ex Boyfriend

24 Jun

Dear ex-boyfriend,

Since I have reason to believe you knew about my dating blog, I’d like to extend my deepest apologizes regarding the demise of our one and a half month relationship. Clearly our break-up was entirely my fault, so here goes:

I'm sorry

I’m sorry that you went off your meds. When you first mentioned that you’d been on anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds, I tried to be understanding.  But it’s obvious why a doctor prescribed them to you. You really need to take them. Like, seriously. You have crazy eyes.

I’m sorry about my ADD. While it pales in comparison to your dark and twisted mood swings, apparently it forced you to call a variety of your ex-girlfriends and other friends and family members for consultation on how you should “manage me.” I’m sorry that you’re the first person to EVER have an issue with my supposed inattentiveness. I’m sorry it gave you another fault to pick on.

I’m sorry that you couldn’t stop calling your ex-girlfriends, friends, colleagues, family members, your hair stylist, the cashier at Walgreens, the guy at the stop light next to you, etc. to analyze all faults you found with me bit by bit.

clueless like

Like, I’m seriously like not sorry.

I’m sorry I said the word “like” too much. That made you really mad, didn’t it?

I’m sorry being a slacker on changing my car oil led you to believe that I can’t “handle life management.” I’m also sorry that it forced you to ignore me and treat me like total shit for two days. An oil change. I believe you said something like, “How can you handle raising a child if you can’t remember to get your oil changed?” I don’t know – why don’t you ask every woman ever?

I’m sorry about that time I was ten minutes late. Although 8 minutes was due to being stuck by a slow-moving train on West 117th, I suppose I should have figured out a way to get around it. I mean, 10 minutes late! I’m surprised you only shunned me for (another) two days about that one. I can’t imagine how enraged you would’ve been if we actually had to be somewhere that night besides the couch at your condo.

I'm not sorry ex boyfriend letter

(Really, I”m not sorry)

I’m sorry about that time I was ten minutes late again. At least that time you sulked in your car and waited impatiently for me in the parking lot.

I’m sorry that I didn’t offer to pay for my half of dinner on date nights. Even though your salary was assumingly 4 times higher than mine, our once-a-week dinner dates to inexpensive restaurants must have put a serious strain on your finances. (And by the way, I was getting cash together for our ‘trip.’ I just wasn’t about to offer any to you until we actually embarked on our vacation. Come on, I knew we weren’t going to last.)

I’m sorry that I’m not a doctor or lawyer. You made it very clear that my career in marketing wasn’t good enough for you since I’d never earn enough money to make a strong ‘financial contribution to our relationship.’ I mean, what good is a SEO/marketing person to a man starting his own law practice? What benefits could I have possibly brought to the table on that?

I’m sorry about your mole problem. Seriously, what was with that? There had to be at least a thousand of them covering your body. And you really should’ve warned me that one time I thought I was playing with your nipple, that it wasn’t actually your nipple, but one of your grotesque moles. They were different colors too! Have you considered applying to the Guinness Book of World Records for your moles? Is that book even still around?

naked mole rat

I’m sorry that I didn’t laugh at your attempt at humor. You assumed that I wasn’t paying attention (oh, my ADD strikes again). I was. It’s just that the 10 one-liners you have in constant rotation weren’t funny the first time and they weren’t funny the fiftieth time. And quit it with the “over the pants handie” saying. It’s not funny. It’s creepy.

I’m sorry that you couldn’t stop discussing your ex-girlfriends. And all the talk about your sexual history with them? I promise I didn’t need to know every specific detail! Especially right before we were about to have sex. I can reenact precisely how a previous ex behaved in bed with you, yet I don’t even know a single one of their names. You never once said a name.

I’m sorry to tell you that your penis size isn’t average as you claim. The reason the condoms kept falling off wasn’t because my vagina is tight (but thanks for the compliment), but rather because the condoms were too roomy for your package. Maybe that’s why your ex-girlfriends never wanted to have sex with you? (Your words, not mine.)

I’m sorry that I spent too much time on my hair.

I’m sorry that I never knew why you were mad at me. Was I breathing too much? Was I looking in the wrong direction? Did I say “like” too much again? Sit on the wrong side of the couch? Take a minute too long in the bathroom? I never knew!

Not sorry

(I’m not sorry)

I’m sorry that time with me cut into the time you’d ordinarily spend trolling Facebook and baiting  almost- strangers with  attention-seeking posts. Was it necessary to create paragraph-long updates each time you did something for someone? Besides, why talk to me when you can stalk your ex-girlfriends or read posts by people you haven’t talked to in ten years discussing their recent trip to Target?

I’m sorry that you think I didn’t appreciate anything you did. I appreciated everything – however my gratitude was quickly overshadowed by your relentless criticism and the fact that you found fault in every single thing about me.

I’m sorry that I wasted a month and a half of my time with you.

Actually, come to think of it…. I’m not sorry for anything but that last one. You’re a pompous prick and I sincerely hope you choke on your next kale smoothie and vegan cous-cous plate.  Like, seriously you’re an asshole.

Best regards,


P.S. Are you sure you’re not gay? You’re awfully feminine and your shorts are too short.

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Dating After 30: It Always Comes Back to This

24 Jun

I’m back after my two month hiatus. No, my small pause had nothing to do with my bad date meltdown.

Three reasons for my dating blogging hiatus:

1. I was dating a guy and didn’t want to write about him. He took up lots of my time. Because my goal is to make a relationship work, I figured not writing about the person I was currently dating (without his permission) was a good call. However, now that my ex turned psycho, all bets are off.

2. I was lacking energy. Turns out it was the melatonin. Now that I stopped popping melatonin, I feel totally normal again. Duh.

3. It’s summer and it’s hard to write in the summer. So much else to do. I needed a break.

But I’m back. And sadly, still dating in Cleveland. It is what it is – and there is nothing else to do but make the most of it. Eventually, I’ll find ‘the one.’ At least I hope.  Until then… it’s back to more weird misadventures with Cleveland men.

And on a good note, I made DatingAdvice.com’s list of 10 Best Single Dating Blogs.

Cleveland, Ohio Rock Hall of Fame

Leveraging an Online Dating Success Story. Maybe. Sort Of.

4 Apr

Welcome to another installment of Stupid Shit Guys Do to (Hopefully) Get Sex

My recent date may have looked like Patrick Dempsey, but Mr. McDreamy he was not.

McDreamy Not

Return to Dating 101 – if a man repeatedly claims to to be a “hopeless romantic,” he’s not. McNotDreamy never missed an opportunity to inform me about his romantic tendencies.  According to him, he’s an “old-fashioned romantic” type of guy.  I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s thoroughly expressed on his online dating profile. (Ladies – if you see this in a profile. Never get your hopes up.)

I can repeatedly tell you that I’m Kim Kardashian. It doesn’t make it true.

Despite a lack of wine and roses, McNotDreamy had a riveting story that he liked to recount (over and over again)…. Once upon a time he knew a guy who recently encountered a bout of good dating luck on Match.com.

texts from match2

On top of excessively communicating his supposed romantic tendencies, NotMcDreamy really enjoyed repeating a story about his friend who recently found the woman of his dreams on Match.com. So much, that his buddy’s tale of online dating love came up in nearly every conversation. Whether it was via text, phone call or during dinner, he never failed to mention the fact that his friend fell in love with a girl from Match.com. Sometimes an “I can only hope to be so lucky” was added for good measure. The more he told the story, the more I got the feeling something was off.

text from match1

Take the online dating success story and combine it with the absence of romantic tendencies. Toss in his claim to be a huge dog lover with his refusal to pet or even acknowledge my dog… and it equals bull shit. Creative, yet ineffective bull shit.

I firmly believe he deserves a few points for originality. This is the first man who tried to crank up the charm with a non-stop reiteration of a friend’s online dating love story.

texts from match3

On the fourth (and final) date, McNotDreamy sat beside me on the couch and proceeded to text other women. He deliberately tilted the phone so I couldn’t see the screen when he’d receive the messages. Because that wasn’t obvious or anything… (And I could still see!)

Of course, the multiple females blowing up his phone didn’t stop him from trying to hump me.

I, on the other hand, did.

Dating a Cheap Man: Number One Cause of Vaginal Dryness

11 Feb

“Tell me more about the money you saved by not eating in restaurants. It’s really getting me hot,” SAID NO WOMAN EVER.

Seriously guys – don’t be cheap. Before you ask a woman on a date, loosen that death grip on your wallet and PLEASE, PLEASE don’t brag about your frugal lifestyle. Believe me, we are not impressed.

So… I went on a date with this Match.com guy, let’s just call him El Cheapo (it’s more fitting than anything else). Allow me to preface this story by telling you that El Cheapo is a medical device sales rep who makes close to six-figures. Cheap has nothing to do with income level and everything to do with a fatal personality flaw. Cheap = undateable. Cheap boyfriend

El Cheapo called the night before and suggested we meet at the Greenhouse Tavern. For any non-Clevelanders reading this, the Greenhouse Tavern is one of the top restaurants in Cleveland. You can’t NOT eat at Greenhouse Tavern. Well, unless you’re El Cheapo. I don’t think he was planning on dinner.

If he just wanted to meet for a drink, he could’ve suggested more bar and less restaurant. Selecting one of the best restaurants in Cleveland and expecting me to sit there and watch everyone else chow down is cruel and unusual punishment. I wasn’t having it, so I took the reins and insisted we get a table because I was hungry.

He tried to change his tune, “Wow. I’m kind of relieved that you’re hungry. I just planned to sit at the bar. But we can eat.”

Damn right we’re eating. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he wasn’t cheap. Maybe the cheap vibe he was exuding was totally my head. It wasn’t.

On top of suggesting that I get the cheapest entrée on the menu (burger), El Cheapo spent a hefty chunk of time discussing his finances and his rapidly growing bank account. And let me tell you, he’s very proud of his bloated savings account. He told me that more than once.

cheap ass

Does this turn you on?

“I’m the most frugal guy I know,” he boasted. “Every month I set a budget for how much I can spend on entertainment. If I go over my budget, I have to lay low the next month.” He continued to brag about his fiscally conservative ways and how he managed to teach his sisters to cut corners and they now save an additional $500 per month.

Oh, he also told a riveting story involving a bad date at a wine festival. I’m not sure what else happened on his ‘bad date story,’ but I do know that the tickets cost $50 each. He mentioned that like ten times.

When I first laid eyes on El Cheapo, I wondered why he was single. The man is extremely tall, attractive, and intelligent with a good job. But wow, he’s a miserly fellow! Financial responsibility is good, but when penny-pinching dominates a first date conversation – there’s a huge problem.

El Cheapo doesn’t have his own place at 35. He lives with his cousin in a 2 bedroom apartment (not even a house) because it “saves so much money.”

Surprisingly El Cheapo willingly paid for dinner. (Note: I purposely didn’t select an expensive entrée and ordered only one drink, so it wasn’t an expensive tab. I didn’t want it to be. I was turned off and just wanted to leave.)

Our date occurred on a 20-degree night with wicked wind gusts. The sidewalks were covered by a lovely sheet of ice and where does he park? Over by West 6th somewhere because he didn’t want to pay higher rates due to the Cavs game. I paid $10 bucks to park a block away – which is nothing. How much money could he have possibly saved?? A broken leg due to falling on ice during his long trek back could cost him much more.

Frugal menGuys, you need not be rich. Just don’t be so prudent with your cash that it’s impractical. Thriftiness does not get our juices flowing. El Cheapo was incredibly attractive, yet I’ve never been so turned off.

He asked me on a second date, but I must decline. I don’t care to hear anymore about his adventures in frugality. (Seriously, what guy brags about his cheapness on a first date?)

Want to Impress a Woman? It’s Simple

3 Feb

Online dating can certainly wear a girl out. This time I’m taking it easy… or at least trying to. This means staying off of Match.com for weeks at a time and letting the current crop of men weed themselves out. Normally, there’s a fatal flaw in each of them (or they weed me out) so the elimination process moves along fairly smoothly.

So far, one guy hasn’t weeded himself out. He was the first man I went out with upon my fateful return to Match.com. He isn’t my typical type – a tad nerdy, much quieter than my usual boisterous jerky breed and he’s also way smarter than I am. Believe me, I’m not dumb by any means, his intelligence level happens to be much higher.

I love olives

He won me over on the third date. How? He gave me the olives out of his martini.

Sounds silly, right? I’m excited over a couple of olives. Did I mention they were stuffed with bleu cheese? Really, is there anything better than a salty, juicy olive packed with sharp bleu cheese? There isn’t.

I fucking love olives. Adore them to the point where I’ll sit in front of my television with a jar of olives and a fork and go to town. Certain times of the month I’m overcome with an insatiable craving for salt. Olives satisfy this. The other week Giant Eagle had jars of olives on sale for $1 each. I won’t mention how many jars were purchased, but let’s just say I’m set on olives for quite some time.

bleu cheese olives


Back to the doctor and his keen ability to woo me with olives. During dinner, he ordered a dirty martini and immediately asks if I’d like his olives. Of course I took one, but insisted that he eat the other. He admitted to enjoying olives, but noted that he ordered the dirty because he knows my bizarre fondness for olives, so he wanted to give them to me. I couldn’t argue. I’ve since learned he’s an olive lover as well – which makes the gesture even sweeter.

The next afternoon, I was scrounging around the fridge for olives (a normal routine). As I popped the jar and stuck a fork in one, I remembered his olive offering from previous night. Made me smile all over again. Willingly handing over your blue cheese stuffed olives is a mighty sacrifice. I guess that means he’s worth keeping around?

Texts From a Cheating Boyfriend – While He’s Cheating

22 Dec

When it comes to a cheating boyfriend, if you feel something isn’t right… it probably isn’t.

The night Bruce cheated we were supposed to have been together (we always were together). I got ready, waited around and he ultimately stood me up. It wasn’t like him.

One thing to note about our relationship, we were always either in contact or together. If he didn’t hear from me for a little bit, he’d always reach out and vice versa. We both always answered texts right away no matter what. Always.

His text messages from that night were downright cold and bizarre. I felt like I was talking with a stranger.

I saved the lovely text messages from my cheating boyfriend (sent while he was cheating!) because they were too creepy not to keep around. When I date someone else and find myself becoming upset over something stupid, I can simply look back to this dating blog post to put everything into perspective.

On that note, enjoy the odd texts from my cheating (ex) boyfriend.

Text message from a cheating boyfriend

Another text from my cheating boyfriend

My cheating boyfriend needed tonight

He really “needed tonight.” So much that he said it twice. Eww.

Texts from a cheater

He wasn’t sorry until he got caught later that afternoon.


How to Deal With a Cheating Boyfriend

18 Dec

Silence speaks louder than words. When I told my cheating boyfriend Bruce to never contact me again, I meant it. He’s tried getting in touch multiple times to apologize and to say he misses me. I give him nothing but silence. As far as I’m concerned there is nothing more to say. He cheated. Game over.

Every ounce of me wants to tell him what a piece of sick trash he is. How his life is something straight out of an episode of Jerry Springer. Remind him that one day karma will return the favor. Yet, I say nothing. Why? Whether it’s negative or positive, he just wants something. I refuse to give him anything. Issuing the most hateful response still presents him an opportunity to further communicate. He doesn’t deserve that. He deserves nothing. Cheaters deserve nothing.

Besides, silence totally drives people crazy.


Once a cheater, Always a cheater.

10 Dec

My boyfriend cheated on me.

On Friday, Bruce proclaimed he needed a “guys night.” I wasn’t aware that “guys night” involved getting unbelievably hammered and taking a 45-year-old bar hag home to fuck her in the same bed that we shared almost every fucking night.  She isn’t even remotely pretty. Just trailer trash. By the way, Bruce is 32.  It was a one-night stand with a filthy hag that he couldn’t have cared less about. He was extremely intoxicated and took this dirty bartender Michele back to his place.

My brain won’t shut off. I can’t stop envisioning them together. He was MY boyfriend. God – he kissed her and touched her in the same way he kissed and touched me. He fingered her…. stuck his dick inside her. All the while, I was sitting there and waiting for him to come home. Even after a guys night, I would’ve headed to his place to sleep next to him. We never slept apart unless he was traveling for work. Friday night was the first time, but only one of us slept alone.

The thought of him with another woman makes me want to vomit. I can’t eat. I’ve already thrown up twice. It’s so surreal. cheating-boyfriend

It really makes me wonder how many other times this happened. He did it right under my nose. He traveled all the time for work. Imagine what he was doing in those other cities where I had no chance of finding out…. It’s so fucking sick. Sometimes random women (whom he never mentioned to me) would text him late at night. There were times he wouldn’t open the texts in front of me. He said they were just co-workers. I was a bit suspicious then and clearly I had a reason to be.

And it wasn’t like he wasn’t getting it at home – I ALWAYS want to have sex. I’m usually the one to initiate. I never once turned him down (because I’m usually horny). I’m an attractive person (guess you’ll have to take my word on that). For him to stick his penis inside this sleazy, dirty, ugly bar whore when he has me at home is unthinkable. I don’t understand and I never will. He’s a sick fuck.

He lives in my apartment complex, so I must make peace with the idea that I will see him in passing. Luckily his building is on the other end of the complex. However, after a betrayal like this – He is dead to me.

Cheating boyfriend

The last text I will ever send to this man.

There is nothing left to say. I will NEVER utter another word to this piece of shit scumbag for as long as I live. I tried so hard to make us work and he threw it all away for 60 seconds of intercourse with a dirty vagina (60 seconds is pushing it. He never lasted very long in bed). That’s all she was to him – a vagina. She looks like she’d smell too.

I’m devastated. We were ALWAYS together. We were entirely intertwined in each other’s lives. Now it’s over – just like that… completely blindsided.

Admittedly, we were having some major issues (mostly he was acting like a cold-hearted asshole more often than not) and a future break-up was seemingly inevitable. But I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t let go. I wanted it to work so badly. Mostly because I was afraid to be alone again. Maybe this is the kick in the ass I needed to move on with my life. He wasn’t good for me, but I kept trying, and trying, and trying. He took me for granted every single day – and I knew it. I wasn’t happy, but I stayed.

He hasn’t looked me in the eyes for weeks.  Leads me to believe last Friday night wasn’t the first time.

It’s over. Adjusting to day-to-day life without him won’t be easy since we were always together. But – this too shall pass. I will never second-guess our break-up. For me, there is no guilt, no remorse and no questions. There is only certainty and hate. Two things that will make it easier to move forward with my life.

I can’t help but feel that life (or fate…) did me an enormous favor. In the long run, this is the best thing that could’ve happened. I can finally move on without wondering “what if?”. There’s no reason to look back. Even with this seething hatred flowing through my veins, I feel oddly free.

It’s over.

LA Fitness and my ex-boyfriends who work out there

14 Nov

There’s at least 5 of them there.

Excuses for not frequenting the gym? I have a zillion. I have to force myself into that torture factory, watch the minutes tick by until I can get off the damn cardio machine and then sit on machines and repetitively count as I mindlessly lift weights. Combine that with my recent folliculitis outbreak (I blame Urban Active/LA Fitness entirely) and I can probably craft a unique excuse everyday for the next few years.

If I want to keep my weight down this winter, I have to return to those 3 floors of misery known as Urban Active… or maybe it’s LA Fitness now. What the hell is the Crocker Park gym now anyway?

Cleveland isn’t a small city, but it’s no Chicago or NYC either. It’s fairly easy to run into an ex while out and about, but I miraculously avoid these uncomfortable encounters most of the time. Considering my dating history, this is no small feat. (Note – I said “dated,” not slept with)

Not what I look like at the gym

Problem being, my gym is a relatively popular one on Cleveland’s West Side. Numerous men that I’ve dated frequent it on a regular basis. No joke, I can count at least 5 that I’m certain have a membership. And what worse place to run into my dumpers and dumpees than the gym? If I must engage in an awkward stop and chat with an ex, I’d at least like to do it when I know I look good. At the gym, I look like total shit.

In addition to the fact that I’m sweaty, stinky and grunting in an unattractive manner, I’m also struggling for breath after the first ten minutes of cardio. Half the time I can’t figure out how to use a machine and wind up looking like an asshole. Indeed, I’m a workout novice wearing no make-up, messy hair or a ball cap, and my boobs look dreadful in a sports bra (although I have started wearing semi-push up bras under my sports bra, which helps a ton). Why people suggest the gym is a great place to meet men is beyond me. I certainly don’t have the confidence to approach anyone while working out.
Paul Ryan at the gym

I’ve made it my goal to attend the gym on a somewhat regular basis this winter. I’m going to run into my ex boyfriends while looking slightly better than I do when I wake up in the morning. Yes, it will be awkward and it will suck. However, I guess running into ex boyfriends while looking mildly gross at the gym is preferable to running into them at a bar after gaining 20 pounds from avoiding the gym.

The joys of dating in Cleveland.


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