Ask Ally (Q and A Week 14)

Once again, you guys asked me questions that I am probably not qualified to answer, but as always, I am going to go ahead and answer them anyway.

Q: Do you still talk to Cowboy Casanova?

A: Absolutely not. The last time I heard from him was in April or May. He was drunk texting me around 8:00pm because he was coming into town the next day and I knew I had no desire to see him ever again so I blocked his number. I haven’t heard from him since.

I’ve wasted enough years of my life chasing men who only want me when they don’t have me and then once they have me, they no longer want me. I’ve grown out of that phase. Thank goodness.

Q: How do you write your wordy posts so quickly?

A: I don’t. lol

I don’t think the way that I write is normal… if there really even is a “normal” way to write. I actually write most of my posts by hand first which is probably unheard of in this day and age. After I hand write them, I write my blog posts in the “Notes” section of my iPhone which I also don’t think most professional writers do. I write them in my notes section so that I can switch back and forth between my laptop and my iPhone at any given time. I never know when a thought, idea, quote, or feeling is going to pop into a mind and have an impact on me. I don’t always have my laptop handy, but I always have my iphone with me, so writing my posts in my notes allows me to bounce back and forth easily… all compliments of the “cloud.” I usually have between one and two dozen partial posts going at a time that I go back and forth between. Sometimes I feel so strongly about something that I can write an entire post in one sitting, but most times, even if I sit down and write a post in one sitting, it’s something I’ve been thinking about and writing in my head for weeks. Sometimes I simply write down a quote or idea that sparked something inside me that I want to write about and I go back to it later after I’ve thought about it for a while and write a post. I also have a list of bomb ass blog titles that I have no idea what I’m going to write to go with them, but I’ll figure it out someday.

Could my posts be better? Of course. I could switch my major to Journalism so that I have better grammar, manners, and I could certainly curse less, but what fun would that be? I feel like my blog is a guilty pleasure. People reading my blog is just like my unhealthy addiction to binge watch every reality series on Bravo. Do I really care about rich women in a another city getting day drunk and fighting with each other over nothing? Nah. It’s irrelevant in my life. However, it’s fun to watch the train wreck unravel. No one wants to admit they read my blog, but my numbers prove that ya’ll are still reading so I’m going to keep writing. 😉

Q: Do you have any other advice to give us men to know if a girl is into us or not?

A: Look… I’m still single, so I really don’t know if I’m the best person to give advice on this topic. The one thing I can say is that there probably isn’t much of a difference between when a man is interested in a woman and a woman is interested in a man so think about the lengths you are willing to go to if you are interested in a woman.

If a woman is interested in you, she’ll text you. It doesn’t matter if you’ve text her or not. She’ll text you first, and she will repeat text you if necessary if she is into you. Also, I don’t care how busy she is, she’ll make time to see you. She’ll surrender plans, move things around, stay up late and miss out on sleep to see you. If you for one second have to question if she is in to you, I’m gonna be completely honest and let you know that she probably isn’t into you. If a girl is interested in you, she will let you know without any questions or reservations. No matter how attractive she is, busy she is, or desired she is, if you are a guy she wants to get to know, she will make that blatantly clear with her actions. If you are making excuses for any aspect of her behavior in the beginning stages of your developing relationship, I’m here to tell you that you’re probably just lying to yourself and she’s just not that into you. If she is into you, you’ll know. End of story.

Q: Do you really think you are insane or crazy? You mention it a lot.

A: No. I don’t think that I am really insane or crazy. That’s why I can joke about it.

Do we as women do crazy things when we are head over heels in love with someone? Yep. I can think of at least a dozen things I would never do when I am in my right frame of mind, but I might do them when I’m drunk and my drunk alter ego, Snooks, takes over. For the most part, girls aren’t crazy. Men just make us go temporarily crazy by their actions.

However, I do feel the need to point out that sometimes men’s actions are just reactions to us girls being crazy… so good luck figuring that one out.

Q: Why do you think “Foot Fetish Ally Stagg” is your number one blog post?

A: I don’t think that post has any relevance. As we all know, I wrote that post as a joke. I just think something in the mysterious world of Google algorithms somehow directs people to that particular blog post that I wrote when someone, somewhere in the world Googles “Foot fetish blogs.” lol

However, I didn’t know that Foot Fetishes were such a huge epidemic. If I would have known how popular my feet would be, I would have most certainly started a foot fetish blog as opposed to overwhelming you all with my bad dating decisions and heartbreak because that is not NEARLY as popular as my feet have been.

Q: After reading your most recent post, Modern Romance: Chapter 4 (Part One), it makes me think that you’re still single because you’re a commitment phobe who won’t settle down because you are always going to be looking for the next best thing.

A: *sigh*

Reading over my last post, I can see how you would think that. I mean, I take an hour to choose which head of lettuce I’m going to buy at the grocery store. I also had to make popsicle sticks to choose where Poodle and I were going to eat because neither of us could decide. I also take weeks to decide which series I’m going to binge next on my Apple TV because that is a huge commitment to me… but rest assured, I am very far from being a commitment phobe. I promise you.

I have zero problem with commitment. At this point in my life, before I commit to anyone, it is imperative that I make sure that this could potentially be “the real deal.” That doesn’t mean that I am going to “wife up” instantly. It just means that I’m a 30 something year old single mother with two children and a nosy ass family who will also be invested in our relationship. If I can’t picture a potential future with you, I’m not going to waste your time or mine.

Let me tell you something, I am on this planet to make ME happy.

I can honestly say that no matter what Poodle and I went through over our 4 1/2-ish years of back and forth, no matter what a single person in this entire universe thought about us and our relationship, I DIDN’T CARE. When he and I were together, I was happy and I didn’t care how much that pissed anyone else off. If he would have turned to me at almost any point in those 4 1/2 years and said “Screw it. Let’s be together.” I would have happily obliged. Would it have been a mistake? Maybe. But at that time, it didn’t matter to me because he made me happier than I ever could have imagined. More importantly, I could foresee a future with him for potentially forever. Other people might not have seen it, but I did. I had the upmost faith that he and I could battle through whatever came our way and that was all I needed to know to guarantee our forever happiness. If we were both honestly all in, forever, even after all the trials we had faced, I had no doubt that we could have lasted forever. So, no. I’m not scared of commitment, no matter how hard things might be. No one else can tell you what your happiness looks like. Only you can control that.

However, if you see a forever with someone and they clearly do not see a forever with you, all I can say is… move right along. There is absolutely no point in wasting one more second of your time on someone that you would do anything for if the feelings are not reciprocated.

My point being, no. I am not scared of commitment and if someone is standing in front of me that I feel could potentially be perfect for me, I will never dismiss them or keep them on the back burner simply because I am looking for something better. I am fairly certain at this point in my life what happiness looks like for me. My only hesitations with jumping into a relationship with someone would be because before I bring them into my awesomely crazy world, I want to make sure that I see a potential future with them. That’s all. If I ever have any hesitation with commitment, it’s not because I’m afraid that something better might be out there or that I have 500 other guys I am entertaining on the side. It’s strictly because I want to make sure that we could potentially be a long term, if not forever thing. I don’t introduce just anyone to my kids or my family and neither should you.

However, I do feel that there are people out there who dismiss someone that could be a “good match” for them simply because they will never be satisfied and they will always be looking for “the next best thing.” That was my intent behind my most recent post.

xoxox,
Ally

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Modern Romance: Chapter Four

Chapter 4 in the book Modern Romance by Aziz Ansari is all about Choices and Options.

(Sidenote: My auto correct originally changed “options” to “potions” in the above sentence and I was a little tempted to run with that. Then I realized I don’t know anything about potions. But note to self to learn more about potions for a future blog post.)

I didn’t want to break this chapter up into two separate posts, but there was just too much good information for me to condense it into one post. Plus as we all know, I’m super wordy which makes it virtually impossible for me to shorten anything that I write.

I want to start by talking about arranged marriage. What an interesting concept… right? How arranged marriage would work was a man would meet with approximately three woman who were hand picked by his parents. The women were typically daughters of the parent’s neighbors. The young man would talk with each candidate for around thirty minutes and then he would decide which one he was going to marry. Typically, a week later they would get married.

I have to address a couple of concerns I have with this process.

First of all, as soon as I imagined my parents choosing a life partner for me, I almost had a heart attack and died. I thought about it for a minute and as I reflected back on my dating track record, I realized I haven’t done exactly the best job choosing mates for myself over the past decade. The more I thought about it, maybe they were onto something with the tradition of arranged marriages. I would personally still rather have my heart broken a billion more times or die alone than let my parents choose my life partner, but at the same time, I can appreciate the tradition of arranged marriages. That’s just never going to happen for me. Sorry mom and dad.

Second of all, I have a small issue with the thought of only meeting someone for 30 minutes and then marrying them a week later. I put SO much more thought into things that are SO much less important than the person that I am going to spend the rest of my life with.

For example, when I tell my children that we are going to the store to go grocery shopping, they literally want to die because they know what is about to happen. The amount of time and effort that I put into choosing the perfect produce items by far exceeds the 30 minute meeting appointment for these arranged marriages. I have to look at every single package of romaine lettuce in the entire grocery store and speak personally with the produce manager before I am able to commit to my final lettuce purchase. This habit is a little annoying because at the end of the day, I know that whatever lettuce I choose will just sit in the produce drawer in my fridge until it spoils. However, please believe that when I leave the grocery store, I am sure to have the freshest, best looking, lettuce that particular grocery store has in stock.

Another example of something I waste far too much time on, is the stereotypical female behavior that I fully admit I participate in. You know… the one where we are never able to choose which restaurant we would like to eat at. Every single time that I am asked to choose where I want to go eat, my palms get sweaty and my heart starts racing. With how nervous I get when I am asked to decide what I want to eat, you would think that I had been asked to choose what meal I would present and serve to Jesus if I single handedly hosted the last supper myself.

Besides, let’s face it. Even if I know exactly where and what I want to eat, I’m definitely not going to actually tell the guy. Where’s the fun in that?

Kidding. Kind of. 😉

Storytime!

When Poodle and I dated, between the two of us, our inability to choose where we were going to go out to eat was SO out of hand that I literally made us popsicle sticks to choose from. They were labeled yellow for quick places close to home, red for a little bit nicer restaurants kind of close to home, and the blue sticks were super fancy restaurants (most of them we hadn’t been to before) for our fancy date nights. You think this would have solved our problem, but it didn’t. We would end up pulling stick after stick, taking turns vetoing each stick for one reason or another. Eventually we made a rule that we would choose three sticks, then we would leave it up to my son to choose which of the three restaurants that we would be dining at. I want to throw it in there that us giving my son this type of power was by far one of the worst decisions Poodle and I ever made as a couple because my son has the WORST taste in food. My son puts BBQ sauce on his chicken marsala for crying out loud! However, letting my son decide where we were going to eat did make him feel special. It also took the heat off Poodle and I because we knew that even as two grown, mature, responsible adults, we were in no way, shape, or form capapble of making the decision as to where we were going to grab dinner.

Oh… and don’t even get me started on the incredibly obnoxious amount of time that I waste choosing which series I’m going to binge watch next on Hulu or Netflix after I’ve completed one series. After I finish mopping up the tears from the devastation I feel from concluding a 36 season, 45 episodes per season series, I spend weeks researching different series, asking friends and family for recommendations, and doing little sneak peeks of what series I could potentially dedicate a solid portion of my life to next. I can guarantee that I put in more time, effort, and research into which series I am going to watch next on Hulu or Netflix than I will put into my college dissertation. Mark my words.

I’m sure that you are starting to see how my little blonde bobble head is beyond baffled as to how someone could make such an important life decision such as marriage after spending only 30 minutes with a person that their parents chose for them. As you can imagine, this is an exceptionally hard concept for me to grasp considering it takes me almost an hour to choose the perfect head of lettuce from the produce department at my local supermarket.

Okay. Hold on.

I do have an adventurous and impulsive side to me so I have to admit that a small, tiny, little portion of me can’t help but think, “What if I went full on Britney Spears, married some random guy one night at a Las Vegas chapel, and then just hoped it worked?” Oh wait… I already kind of did that with my first husband. lol… but seriously though. *looks side to side* You guys… I literally had to make popsicle sticks with restaurant names on them so that Poodle and I could decide where we were going to eat, but a small part of me is actually willing to entertain the thought of a random shotgun wedding with a complete stranger one night and then just kind of hope it works out for the rest of my life.

But then again, I don’t really expect anything less from myself because I’m insane. *shrugs*

This chapter continued on, talking about how because of the internet we have so many options in the world of dating now. Most of the time, I think that all of these advancements in technology are helpful, but a small part of me can’t help but think that it almost makes dating more difficult because we are so overwhelmed with options. I think it is a wonderful thing that because of all of these advancements in technology I am able to meet my Prince Charming across the globe in Africa if I really wanted to. Reflecting back on Chapter 1 or 2 in this book (I can’t remember which one off the top of my head) Aziz talked about how back in the day most people would marry someone who grew up within a five mile radius of their childhood home. A small part of me can’t help but think how much easier my life would be if I had to choose my husband from the 3-5 men around my age that grew up within a five mile radius of my childhood home. Maybe I miss the simpler times a little bit… or at least the idea of the simpler times.

On the flip side, if those 3-5 guys that grew up within a five mile radius of my childhood home only had me and maybe a couple other girls that lived within a five mile radius of their childhood home to choose from as their wife, how much easier would that be for me? I’m average looking, with an average (at best) body, and I’m pretty sassy. If a guy only had 3-5 girls to choose from, that could certainly make me look a lot more appealing than I actually am. Nowadays, It definitely works against me that any guy in the entire world that I am interested in can log onto the internet and find any girl in the world within seconds. I just really can’t compete with all of those fit tea models on Instagram.

Just kidding. I’m awesome and I’m going to make a damn good wife to someone, someday. Although I’m a horrific cook, I more than make up for my lack of kitchen skills in other, much more appealing and satisfying ways…

…such as doing the laundry and actually folding it and putting it away right when I’m finished with it. Come on now, you perverts. Get your heads out of the gutter. 😉

But seriously. There are so many dating options for both men and woman and it is beyond overwhelming at times. I can’t help but wonder that with all of the easily accessible dating options brought to us compliments of the internet, has it jaded some of us in a way? Has having billions of men or woman right at our fingertips made our search for our “perfect person” almost unobtainable because no matter how wonderful someone we meet may be, are we always going to be wondering if we are just one click away from finding someone better suited and even more perfect for us?

What do you guys think?

xoxox,
Ally

PS If you click the “Follow” button on my home page, it will prompt you for your email address. By submitting it, you will receive an email each time I post a blog entry. Your email address will never be sold to a third party and the only emails you will ever receive from me are updates each time I post a blog entry. 😉

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She’s Just Not That Into You

After my post yesterday, I received a message from one of my readers. He politely asked me if he could ask me a few questions regarding my most recent post and I happily obliged.

This gentleman proceeded to ask me if I dismissed the doctor who “had his life together and there was nothing wrong with him simply because I felt as if it were easier for me to date ‘lesser’ men who were assholes to me to justify me running away.”

*takes a deep breath*

Whoa.

I seriously don’t know how could my blog post be so misconstrued, but he had such a strong opinion about this, that I feel the need to clarify.

First of all, I want to make it clear that 99% of the men that I write about in this blog who were complete assholes to me on our date were the most perfect men you could imagine… on paper. They were educated, usually with Masters or PhD’s. They were ridiculously wealthy with incredible jobs. They were good looking and well dressed because they had the money to take care of themselves. They had amazing homes and cars. They were smart, so they could usually reel me in with witty banter and good conversation. They all seemed great… until I actually had to meet their cocky ass in person and had to sit through a grueling date with them. Although they seemed great on paper, they had other issues and were a mess in different ways.

The answer is NO. I absolutely in no way feel like I dismiss men because I am “less than” them. On paper, I may be less than them, but in life, maturity, and human decency, I am here to tell you that I am MUCH MORE than they could ever imagine being. Most of them are egotistical, rich, narcissistic assholes and I would rather live in a dumpster with my two kids and shop at Walmart than pretend for even two second that I could tolerate their shit just so that I can get a free meal or a pair of Louboutins. Some girls are willing to tolerate that type of ridiculous behavior to get things they want, but not me.

Storytime!

Many years ago, there was a man who was working a full time job and was taking classes on his lunch break to complete his Masters in accounting. He took a 12:00 class that was a few hours long, but he couldn’t always be present in class if his job required him to work through lunch. He sat by himself in the back and there was a group of three girls and a guy that sat in front of him. At the end of the semester, before the final exam, one of the girls turned around to this man and said “Hey… you better not be cheating off of our tests because you’re never here.” The man shrugged them off and thought to himself “Well thanks for taking the time to notice that I’m never here.” and they all carried on with the exam. The next time they came to class, the professor wrote the scores on the chalkboard. The three girls and the guy received a “C” on the exam. The man behind them received an “A” which also happened to be the highest score in class. The man leaned over to the snarky girl who had made a comment to him in the previous class and said “Gee. Good thing I didn’t cheat off your exam, huh?”

Well, that snarky girl happens to be my mother and the snarky guy behind her happens to be my father. My parents have literally been giving each other #clapbacks since the day they met. A billion years later, they’re still together and I am one of the sassy little spawn that was created somewhere along the way. So just in case you were wondering where my loud, opinionated, sassy little mouth came from… there you go. This sass was literally tattooed onto my DNA thanks to both of my hilariously mouthy parents whom I adore and admire very much, for very many reasons.

Now, let me give you gentleman a little bit of advice. I know this may sting a little bit, but just as I have had to face the truth, you all are going to have to face the truth right now.

A woman will never dismiss you because she feels “less than” you.

Did you hear me?

A WOMAN WILL NEVER DISMISS YOU BECAUSE SHE FEELS LESS THAN YOU.

I know guys will do that because they feel immasculated, but a woman will never do that. If she tells you that, she’s lying. Also, if you believe what she is telling you, you’re just lying to yourself and… sorry bro. You’re just going to end up looking ridiculous because she’s just not that into you.

If a woman is into you and she feels “less than” you, two things will happen. 1) She will admit she is a mess, apologize, and hope that you care about her enough to be sympathetic to her situation while she tries to piece her life back together and 2) She will actually take action to piece her life back together because you inspire her to be a better person and she will want to have a better life for not only herself, but for the both of you.

I know it sucks to face these truths. Believe me when I tell you that NOBODY understands how you are feeling by facing these truths more than I do. I have ignored “He’s just not that into you” signs for probably the past decade of my life. I’ve made excuses for people’s behavior and I’ve told myself lies to excuse their behavior because I so badly wanted to believe that the reality that existed in my head was actually reality… when it never really was. I was completely delusional.

This reader proceeded to ask me that if I didn’t feel “less than” these men, did I pick people because I viewed them as “projects” to me.

*sigh*

No.

No, I don’t.

The last time I did a project was my 6th grade science fair project, okay? I’m not sure what I have wrote that makes you think that I choose men to be “projects” but rest assured that I do not have the energy to “fix” anyone. Nor am I in any mood to be “fixed” by any man. If we don’t jive, we can both tip our hats, say goodbye, and go our separate ways. The end.

If an attractive girl who doesn’t have her shit together “dismisses you” she’s just not that into you. You’re not a project. I’m sure that you are great and you could not have done anything different. She just does not want to be with you. As I said in my previous post (Please see Unanswered Prayers) it might not have anything to do with you. It could be her own issues… but at the end of the day, she didn’t want to be with you for whatever reason. What else do you really need to know? Do you really want to know the truth anyway? Would you really rather have her tell you that you’re not attractive enough, or you don’t make enough money, or that she’s still in love with her ex? Does it really matter? At the end of the day, she chose someone or something else over you. The end.

During this semi-offensive conversation, this reader did bring up a good point.

How much as people are we willing to tolerate and does the amount that we tolerate depend on our age?

I can tell you from experience that when you are truly head over heels, reach for the stars, over the moon, world series kind of stuff in love someone, there isn’t ANYTHING that you won’t tolerate. End. of. story.

There are always two sides to every story. I am here to tell you that I have had my heart torn out of my chest, stomped on, and then left on the side of the highway for years, unattended that I had to search for, find, and place back into my chest. That’s a glamorous version of the pain I have felt. Regardless of what I have been through, I have still overlooked and forgiven people for things that they have done to me because at the end of the day, I have had to admit and accept that the way I acted affected their reactions. You can’t place the blame on people without accepting responsibility yourself. When you truly love someone with all of your heart and soul, with no expectations or reservations, you would do anything to be with them and more importantly, you would do anything to make them happy because when you truly love someone, their happiness is your happiness. That’s it. You’ll tolerate anything. Is it healthy, probably not… but the heart is a wicked thing sometimes.

I was asked that if “using the wrong fork guy” would have had a different impact in my life now, as oppsed to six months ago. Let me just clarify that I have never actually wrote someone off for using the wrong fork. I was simply making a point that people write other people off for stupid reasons and its not the other person’s fault. They should never take it personal because sometimes people are simply emotionally unavailable and there is nothing you can do to change the situation. Approaching someone six months after they rejected you could end in one of two ways. 1) They will ignore you because they weren’t into you in the first place and you will just look creepy randomly trying to approach them agin six months later or 2) They might be in a desperate enough place to entertain you. Neither place is a fun place.

Take my advice. If you mean something to someone and they care, they will contact you. Stop contacting them. End of story. Stop making excuses for their behavior and stop being the 6th string cornerback who gets minimal (if any) play time all at the coaches (their) disgression. You just look pathetic and desperate. I’m not trying to offend anyone, I just know, because I have been that pathetic person for years. It takes one to know one, people.

xoxox,
Ally

PS If you click the “Follow” button on my home page, it will prompt you for your email address. By submitting it, you will receive an email each time I post a blog entry. Your email address will never be sold to a third party and the only emails you will ever receive from me are updates each time I post a blog entry. 😉

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Unanswered Prayers

Let’s just get it out there. Rejection sucks. I don’t care if it’s rejection from work, school, family, or relationships. No matter what type of rejection it is, it never, ever feels good.

In my humble opinion, there are two types of rejection. Intentional rejection and unintentional rejection. I want to preface this post by stating that neither type of rejection is bad or wrong. Let me explain my train of thought.

The last time that Poodle cut things off with me, that was intentional rejection.

As I stated before, the entire interaction was painful. For two days straight, I had to sit across from the person I loved as they told me that everything between us had been “superficial” and that the only reason we ever find our way back into each others lives is because we “find our way into each others beds.”

Ouch.

In hopes that Poodle was just being impulsive and did not really want to me out of his life for good, I spent four days pouring my heart and soul into a letter that I mailed to him. I was hoping that he was just going through some personal issues and I was getting the brunt of them which tends to happen when you’re close to someone. I am 150% guilty of taking out personal issues I had in the past on him. It’s never right, but it happens. In my letter I expressed how I felt about him and all of the things I wanted to do in order to make us work. I’m not the best at verbal communication, especially since I was very caught off guard by his dismissal of me and in all fairness, in those six months, we never talked about having a future together. I didn’t feel as if I had the opportunity to really tell him how I felt about him because in those six months, we were both just kind of on cruise control. Before he walked away for the last time, I really needed him to know how much I cared about him. I spent several days writing and rewriting a letter to him. I wanted every sentence to be perfect. It was raw, honest, and pretty long. At the end, I told him that if he didn’t feel the same, he didn’t need to respond, but if there were any chance that he did feel the same way that I did, to please let me know.

He never responded.

Ouch. Actually, ouch isn’t a big enough adjective to explain the pain I felt but I don’t have a better adjective so ouch will have to suffice.

However, the more I have thought about it, I should have known better. Poodle is by no means an impulsive person. Everything he does is very well thought out. Him telling me that we were through was not something that he woke up one day and decided he was going to drive over to my house and do. I can almost guarentee that he thought about it for weeks before pulling the trigger. I think that’s what made it sting a little bit more. It’s not like he was upset with me and impulsively called things off. The fact that he thought about it for weeks and still came to the conclusion that he no longer wanted to be a part of my life definitely hurt.

Poodles rejection was intentional rejection.

A year and a half ago, I met a doctor on an online dating site. We chatted for a while and he was a very nice guy. We eventually went on a date and we had a great time. He was kind, a stand up guy, and a true gentleman. I couldn’t find anything wrong with him.

So I did what any sane, rational, intelligent, normal, regular woman would do and I never spoke to him again.

He text me a few times, nothing crazy or stalkerish though, and I just never responded. I was going through some personal things and more importantly, without realizing it, I was completely emotionally unavailable. Even a year and a half after mine and Poodle’s breakup, no matter how much I convinced myself I was fine and ready to date, I wasn’t. It was easy to go on dates with men who were assholes to me because it made me feel justified in being single. It also eventually inspired me to write this blog where I could publicly, but anonymously, shame all of these men. What was difficult for me was going on dates with nice men. Men who had great jobs, were kind, thoughtful, and wanted to adore me, made me run for the hills. I.E. this Doctor that I’m writing about and even Chicken Hand, just to name a couple. Obviously everything works out for a reason. Chicken Hand has a beautiful girlfriend and adorable child now so we clearly weren’t supposed to end up together, but I certainly pushed him away without ever giving him a real chance. Looking back, if someone could have potentially been a good match for me, I RAN. At the time, I would come up with what I now realize were lame excuses as to why I didn’t want to see them again. Even if they were perfect, I’d find some excuse not to speak to them anymore. However, the truth was, there wasn’t anything wrong with them. There were just a lot of things wrong with me. I’m not saying any of these guys and I would have worked out. I’m just saying that I rejected them because of issues I had with myself, not because they did or said a single thing wrong.

This is unintentional rejection.

Although these men didn’t do anything wrong, I am sure that my behavior made them feel as if they did and I truly feel bad that my actions may have hurt their feelings. Luckily, the Doctor was NOT going to let me off the hook. Every few months I would receive a well written and thought out text from him asking how I could possibly have the nerve to write about men who had walked out on a date with me, but I couldn’t even give him a reason as to why I disappeared.

Obviously I did what any sane, rational, intelligent, normal, regular woman would do and I ignored those well written texts for months and months because I had no justification for my absence and I was embarrassed to admit that it was all of my personal issues.

It truly was me, not him.

He deserved an answer. He didn’t do anything wrong. I was finally mature enough to explain that I was going through some personal stuff and that was why I was absent. He was kind enough to forgive me. He even offered to mail me a birthday gift he had got me in Ireland for my birthday a year and a half ago. His kindness and willingness to forgive me for completely blowing him off because off all of the emotional garbage I was rummaging through at the time made me feel even worse for what an asshole I was to him. He never asked for details or an explanation, he just said he was sorry for whatever I was going through and that he was there if I needed anything. He still texts me randomly to just say hi or check in. Ugh. I seriously hope he finds the nicest girl in the world because he certainly deserves so much better than an emotional train wreck like me.

The point I want to make in this post is that rejection is never wrong.

Poodle’s well thought out and intentional rejection towards me hurt like a bitch, but at the end of the day, I’m so thankful for him letting me know how he felt when he did as opposed to a a year later or four years later. As painful as it was, I’m beyond grateful that since he saw me as nothing more than a friend with benefits, he was honest with me and told me to get lost. At the end of the day, whoever had popped into his life or whatever was going on in his life more important to him than keeping me around and that was all I needed to know. It doesn’t matter who or what it was. It was worth walking away from me and that has made it beyond easy to finally say goodbye.

On the flip side, if you’ve been rejected by someone and you can’t seem to figure out why, don’t stress it. It doesn’t matter what the reason is. It could be completely unrelated to you. It could be things that they were going through in their life or it could have been because you used the wrong fork to eat your salad on a date. Either way, if you weren’t worth it to them, move right along. You should never have to spend you life begging for someones love or vying for their attention. Someone who wants to be with you will move mountains to be with you. End. Of. Story. Please don’t accept anything less. You’ll only be selling yourself short.

There’s a song by Garth Brooks called Unanswered Prayers. I can remember listening to it when I was little. I liked the song, but I never understood the meaning of the song. The older I get, the more I have come to appreciate this song. In the song, he talks about someone that he loved and how he would pray to God every night that they could be together, but it never happened. Now he is older, married to someone he loves even more than he ever could have imagined, and he thanks God for not answering his prayers to be with the first woman.

I know that sometimes it is hard to see past heartbreak and rejection and imagine your life without certain people in it. I have spent hundreds of sleepless nights bawling my eyes out, hoping that certain people would stick around because I just couldn’t imagine my life without them. However, this song gives me hope that although there are some people that we couldn’t imagine our lives without, even though God may not grant our hundreds of requests to place them back in our lives, that just means that he is preparing us for something bigger and greater.

If you can love someone so much that you would do anything to be with them, but they do not reciprocate your feelings and you are disposable to them, don’t sweat it. Can you even imagine how amazing it would be to feel that same exact way about someone else and actually have that person reciprocate your feelings? I can’t even imagine how incredible that would feel, but I’m certainly beyond ready to find that kind of love and happiness.

I can’t wait.

xoxox,
Ally

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Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind: But Ally’s way though

Last week I watched the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind for the first time in over a decade.

Okay, okay, okay. I watched it twice.

Okay, okay, okay. Truth. I had to watch it five different times to get through it all because I’m old and I fall asleep 10 minutes into every movie, every time.

It’s a great movie. If you’ve never watched it, I highly recommend it.

Without giving away too much information about the movie, the basis is that two people date, their relationship becomes stagnant, and they both go to a doctor who can erase people from their memory. If you want to know the rest, you’ll have to watch the movie.

If you’ve ever been through a breakup and had your heart truly broken, I’m sure at one point or another you have wished that you could completely erase someone from your memory in hopes that would make your heartache disappear.

Unfortunately, we can’t do that…yet.

While I’m on the subject, can any of my doctor friends find out a way to erase people from our memory? You would make a serious financial killing doing this.

Anyway…

The mind is a very fascinating thing if you really think about it.

If you don’t know me, I’m here to tell you that I have the worst memory of all time ever. I can rarely remember what I had for breakfast, let alone what I wore the day before. However somehow, my memory has seemed to capture a billion memories from past relationships that play in my head over and over at the worst possible times. I can’t even begin to tell you how many sleepless nights I have spent replaying memories that I don’t want to replay, crying, and just praying that I would wake up the next morning and forget all of them. It’s funny to me that I can’t remember what time my son’s baseball practice is or what size shoe my daughter wears without double checking the pair of shoes that she has on. However, I am able to recall certain lighting from certain moments with certain people. I could explain to you in great detail the look they gave me, what we were wearing, and exactly where we were. More importantly, I could explain to you how the lighting, looks, actions, mood, clothing, scents, and conversations made me feel.

WHY IS THAT?

How does my mind dismiss what should be considered important information, but I can somehow get so lost in memories that should be completely irrelevant to me at this point in my life?

Sometimes my memory feels like another form of unfair torture.

For the past couple of weeks, all I have been able to think about is how I could fix my memory, hence why I decided to watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind again after not seeing it for over a decade. Eventually I realized that unfortunately there is no doctor that I can see that can map out all of the memories that I so badly want to forget and erase them in my sleep so I knew that I was going to have to be creative. I spent days racking my brain as to how I could simply get rid of every memory that I no longer want to remember anymore and suddenly, it dawned on me.

I could Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind myself, but my way though, of course.

Last week, I spent some time undoing every memory I had created with my exes. Of course It’s impossible to undo years worth of memories, but I did the best I could. There were a handful of activities that I was petrified to participate in and places that I was terrified to go to because they reminded me of certain exes.

But why? What was I afraid of? Running into an ex? Even if I do run into an ex, so what? What was I scared of? Seeing them? Why? I can already tell you exactly how it would go. We would literally walk past each other like we don’t know the other person exists just like I would walk past anyone else in this world and it would be fine and we would carry on with our lives. Was I scared of seeing one of my exes with another girl? Why? Isn’t that what happens when people break up? You both move on and date other people? So what was I so terrified of? I couldn’t come up with any explanation so I decided to do the only thing I could think to do. I spent the past week undoing all of the memories that I had made with all of my exes by doing activities we used to do and going to places that reminded me of them… and I did it all alone.

I went to restaurants that we went to, blackjack tables we played at, and bingo halls we visited. I made new memories to replace all of the old memories. At first, I was a little shy because I felt awkward about my entire “mission.” However the longer I sat at each place, I realized that I wasn’t going to accomplish anything or create any new memories by sitting in a corner alone, so I snapped out of it and really put myself out there. I made conversation with strangers, ordered things I typically wouldn’t have ordered, sat next to people I might not have sat next to, asked questions I would normally be too shy to ask, and I made new friends. I made my own new memories at all of our old places.

I know that to some doing so may seem a little unnecessary and silly, but it was actually very liberating and it did bring me a lot of peace.

Of course I can’t actually physically or mentally erase any memories that I have, but now, all of the places I was scared to visit because my last memory there used to be with an ex have now been replaced with new memories with interesting people and new friends.

Once I finished phase one of Ally’s Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, I came home and I realized I needed to face phase two.

The “stuff.”

The gifts. The letters. The cards. The photos. The movie stubs. The concert tickets. Just… everything. How do you move on with all of those reminders?

Of course my gut reaction was to do what any sane, rational, intelligent, normal, regular woman would do… throw every single thing away.

I couldn’t do that. 1) I really liked all of my gifts 2) I know a lot of thought went into those gifts because they were all things I truly adored whether it was my Louboutins or my Nautical themed tote bag from Mesquite. 3) Wearing shoes or jewelry that were bought for me by an ex didn’t ever make me think of that ex because they were all things I really loved and would have bought for myself anyway.

However, there was one thing that was bothering me. The cards and letters.

In one of my posts a while back, I talked about how I used to have this cruel, irrational form of torture for myself where I would keep a box of every single letter and card that Poodle ever wrote me in my room. I would occasionally read through them and bawl my eyes out for hours thinking about the love we once had.

Well, the love I delusionally thought we had.

Eventually, I matured a little bit and I decided it was best to tuck those memories away into a plastic bin in the depths of my garage.

But wait… why?

Why was I saving those? Why would I ever want to read through those cards and letters ever again? Every time I read them, I bawled my eyes out and felt a tremendous amount of pain. More importantly, I’m not with him anymore. So why was I saving them? What purpose were those cards and letters tucked away in my garage serving in my life?

The answer is none. They literally served no purpose in my life and anything that was in those cards and letters is completely irrelevant in my life now. Besides, I can guarantee that the last thing any man in my future wants to stumble across years from now is letters or cards I saved from my ex.

So, I did what any sane, rational, intelligent, normal, regular woman would do and I took all of the cards, letters, photos, caricature pictures, and ticket stubs out of the plastic container in my garage, transferred them into a cardboard box, and I threw them all away in my trash can.

Then, a few hours later, I did what any sane, rational, intelligent, normal, regular woman would do and I went back and removed the cardboard box from the trash can and transferred them to the recycling bin because all of those things were recyclable and I seriously do care about mother earth.

Then, I went back a few hours later and I did what any sane, rational, intelligent, normal, regular woman would do and I removed the cardboard box from the recycling bin and placed it on my garage floor next to the recycling bin because I wasn’t sure I was ready to say goodbye to all of those items just yet.

I honestly can’t think of any reason to keep them anymore, but I also don’t want to be impulsive and get rid of them all if for some reason in 30 years they will serve a purpose in my life.

What do you guys think? Is there a need to keep them? Or should I just politely say goodbye to all of my paper belongings so that they can be recycled into a cute Kate Spade note pad? Idk.

Besides… trash and recycling day isn’t until Tuesday. *shrugs*

xoxox,
Ally

PS If you click the “Follow” button on my home page, it will prompt you for your email address. By submitting it, you will receive an email each time I post a blog entry. Your email address will never be sold to a third party and the only emails you will ever receive from me are updates each time I post a blog entry. 😉

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Ask Ally (Q and A: Week 13)

Once again, you guys asked me questions that I’m probably not qualified to answer, but as always, I’m going to go ahead and answer them anyway.

Q: What is your breakup playlist?

A: How many songs are on a playlist? 10ish? lol

Off My Mind by Allison Gray
You Broke Up With Me by Walker Hayes
How Not To by Dan and Shay
New Rules by Dua Lipa
Bartender by Lady Antebellum
Too Good by Drake
Came Here To Forget by Blake Shelton
Chains by Nick Jonas
Lovesick Fool by The Cab

Just to name a few.

Q: What is your least favorite blog post?

A: As of right now, Addicted.

Not because I don’t think it’s a good post, but because that was by far the most painful post I’ve wrote to date. I had to face some hard truths that I had been lying to myself about for a very long time when I was writing that post. I was forced to fully grasp the fact that I meant nothing to the person who meant everything to me. I had to face the reality that I was completely disposable to the one person that I would have done anything for. It was very difficult to write. However, I have had an overwhelming positive response to that post so it was definitely worth it.

That post probably has a billion typos and errors and my thoughts are probably scattered all over the place, but that post was too painful for me to proof read at the time. I still haven’t re-read it. I need a little bit more time before I’ll be in a place where I will be able to re-read that post and correct all of my errors.

Q: What is your most popular blog post?

A: You guys are going to die laughing, but by far it’s “Foot Fetish Ally Stagg”

I get thousands of hits on that particular post a day.

Maybe I’ll start doing “Foot Fridays” where I post pictures of my pedicure on Fridays.

Kidding.

Kinda. 😉

Q: What are you going to school for?

A: I’m actually not going to school this semester because I registered late and then the classes I needed were at a campus that was really far away from my house. I tried to make it work for two weeks, but it was way too much. Next semester will be better. However, up until this semester I’ve been going to school for psychology with an emphasis on human sexuality. That way, some day, I will actually have a degree to back up the things I write about in this blog. In the meantime, I’m still going to keep giving you guys my unwanted and unsolicited opinions and advice. When I finally finish school in approximately 8,000 years, it will just give me a piece of paper to back up everything I’m already going to say anyway. lol

Happy Thanksgiving Eve to all of you! We’re going out to eat because no one wants to cook or clean up. lol

What are you guys doing?

xoxox,
Ally

PS If you click the “Follow” button on my home page, it will prompt you for your email address. By submitting it, you will receive an email each time I post a blog entry. Your email address will never be sold to a third party and the only emails you will ever receive from me are updates each time I post a blog entry. 😉

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Ken

Okay. So where did I leave off in my dating history?

First we had Chicken Hand.
Then Cowboy Casanova.
Then Hot Bartender.
Then AC.

Ahhh… and then there was Ken.

When I was approached online by a very handsome man, I was pleasantly surprised. I scrolled through his profile and he almost seemed too good to be true. He was handsome, single, had a great job, and seemed to have a sarcastic sense of humor which meant that could handle my smart mouth and playful banter. If you can’t tell by now, I’m a sarcastic little ray of sunshine. During our conversations back and forth, he commended me on being a single mother saying how much respect he had for me because he was raised by a single mother himself. Almost immediately, he asked me out to dinner later that week and I eagerly agreed to go out with him. We made plans to meet at a local Italian restaurant a few days later. For the first time in a very long time, I was excited for this date. I actually thought there could be potential for us to have a good first date, and maybe even a second date.

The day of our date, I went and bought as new dress, took hours getting ready, and even wore one of my new pairs of Christian Louboutins that hadn’t made their debut yet. I dropped my kids off at the babysitters house and nervously drove to the restaurant. I couldn’t remember that last time that I was nervous for a date. I walked up to the restaurant doors looking around for my date who had text me when I was on my way and said that he was already at the restaurant and that he would wait out front for me. As I looked around, I didn’t see him. Obviously, my head went to the worst place. Did he see me and run? Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder and I turned around.

Okay. Hold on.

This was definitely one of those “You looked WAY different online” moments. He was approximately a foot shorter than his online profile said and he didn’t exactly look like his photos. However, I am a lady (kinda) and I was raised with manners (for the most part) so of course I was going to proceed with our date gracefully. I imagine that the feelings and thoughts that I was having at that moment when I first met Ken were the same thoughts and feelings that Sid had when he first met me two years later. (If you don’t know what I’m referring to, please read my very first blog post “Sid.”) I’m 5’6” which makes me around 5’9” when I’m in heels. Ken was definitely shorter than I was, but he was in luck because even though he most certainly lied about his height online, I have a thing for short, scruffy men, so it didn’t bother me at all.

However, the fact that he was in a baggy t-shirt, basketball shorts, and slide sandals with socks at a nice Italian restaurant did bother me little. Thanks for taking the time to dress up, Ken. *rolls eyes*

We walked inside and followed the hostess to our table. As we walked to our table, Ken (who was walking behind me) made a snarky comment about the cost of my Christian Louboutin shoes. He said (and I quote):

“Of course a ‘girl like you’ would be wearing those shoes. I know for a fact I make way more money than you do and I would never dream of spending a ridiculous amount of money on a pair of shoes.”

…..

…..

…..

Rude, I know. He had insulted me multiple times in that statement before we even had a chance to sit down at our table. I should have ran away right then and there. I mean, who says that? Honestly. The entire statement was beyond tacky.

I ignored his moronic comment because I’m classy (sorta) and I didn’t feel like validating any part of it with a response. Between him lying about his height, his sloppy attire, and snobby comment about my shoes as well as my income, Ken was already on my nerves.

For the first half of our date I sat there quietly as I listened to Ken loudly boast about his lavish lifestyle. For someone who had such a strong opinion about the cost of my shoes, he had no problem bragging about his two $200,000 cars and his 11 bedroom home.

Ken was clearly a gym rat and he actually made the comment “I have a nicer ass than any girl in Las Vegas.” and then he proceeded to stand up and showcase his tush to me in the middle of this nice Italian restaurant.

To say that I was completely mortified would be the understatement of a lifetime.

Ken also had the nerve to make a rude comment to me about me ordering pasta for my meal. We were at an Italian restaurant. What did he think I was gonna order? A salad?

Bitch, please. Not this girl. I love my carbs.

I was beyond repulsed with Ken long before our food even hit the table, but I was trying to be patient enough just to make it through the date knowing very well I had no desire to see Ken ever again.

After what seemed like forever, our food finally came. He had ordered a chicken breast. I swear on my life that I have never seen anyone with worse table etiquette. He seriously ate like a caveman would have. He was stabbing his food so vigorously that I was nervous about how much aggression that he had towards his tiny little chicken breast.

Even though I was so full I could have died, I made sure to eat every single bite of my pasta just to passsive aggressively irritate the little gym rat because I’m petty like that.

Just when I didn’t think this date could possibly get any worse, Ken’s phone rang. He said it was his mom and he needed to answer it. Although it typically isn’t the best manners to answer he phone at the table, being a mother of two, I completely understand that situations arise where we have to answer our phone. Once he said it was his mother, I completely understood.

The conversation started out normal, but it quickly escalated to him cursing his mother out very loudly on the phone in the middle of the restaurant. After hearing several “F Bombs” and him calling his mother a “bitch” I was beyond embarrassed so I got up and excused myself to the restroom. I sat in there for a couple of minutes attempting to plan my escape, but I had left my coat and purse at the table and I wasn’t ready to part with my new Kat Von D everlasting lipstick just yet. Also, after seeing the aggressive side of Ken, I had a feeling that if I bolted on this date, I might end up missing and on the back of a milk carton. When I arrived back at the table, Ken apologized and said “I have to talk to my mom like that or she doesn’t listen. It’s a cultural thing. You wouldn’t understand.”

…..

…..

…..

I know you guys. I didn’t understand it either.  I don’t care what nationality you are. You should never, ever speak to anyone like that. Let alone your own mother. If I were his mother, I would have jumped out of bed, drove to the restaurantin my nightgown and slippers, dragged him out of the chair by his hair, placed him over my knee, and spanked him in front of everyone in that restaurant because I’m crazy like that.

The waiter came over to offer us dessert and Ken said “She doesn’t need any dessert.”

…..

…..

…..

I know. Ridiculous.

I’m a pretty sassy girl, so a part of me wanted to order dessert just to spite him and his ridiculously rude comment, but at that point, I was full and honestly, I was a little scared of this guy. At this point in the evening, getting out of the restaurant was far more important to me than being spiteful or petty. I think I proved how much Ken’s opinion of my body or I meant to me by eating all of my pasta regardless of how many dirty looks he threw in my direction.

I paid the bill just so that we could get out of there. He asked if I wanted to go to a bar and have a drink even though he doesn’t drink, but I declined informing him that I had to get home to my babysitter and kids. That was a lie, but the thought of spending even one more minute with this creep made my skin crawl. I was also confused. This idiot had insulted everything about me from the second I met him. From my shoes, to my salary, to my makeup, to my body, to what I ate for dinner. He acted as if I couldn’t do anything right (not like it bothered me at all) but I was still baffled. Why the hell would he want to spend anymore time with me? None of it made any sense.

He walked me to my car and then aggressively pinned me against it and gave me the worst kiss I’ve ever had in my life. Normally, I would have shoved him off of me and kicked him in the balls for what a douche bag he was all night, but after seeing how he spoke to his mother on the phone and the flashes of aggression that came out during that conversation and how aggressive he was with his little chicken breast, I was scared of him. I felt that if one little disgusting kiss was what it would take for me to be able to get out of dodge, I would happily take it. I couldn’t help but be thankful that I met him at the restaurant as opposed to having him pick me up. I couldn’t imagine that psychopath knowing where my kids and I lived. I politely excused myself and drove away thanking my lucky stars that I got out of that date alive.

As soon as I got home I blocked and deleted Ken from anything online.

And that was hands down the worst date I’ve ever had.

xoxox,
Ally

PS If you click the “Follow” button on my home page, it will prompt you for your email address. By submitting it, you will receive an email each time I post a blog entry. Your email address will never be sold to a third party and the only emails you will ever receive from me are updates each time I post a blog entry. 😉

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The Blame Game

I want to talk about something that has been on my mind lately.

Blame.

As much as it kills me when you guys write me things about your broken hearts because I personally know that feeling all too well, I have to let you guys know that just like I have had to do, you HAVE to take responsibility for your actions.

I know that it is easier to blame someone else for your pain when you are hurting. This applies to any aspect of your life. However, I am aiming this particular post more towards heartbreak.

You guys… you cannot blame someone else for how YOU feel even if the way that you feel is based off of someone else’s actions. At the end of the day, you are responsible for how you feel because you allowed someone to have that impact on your life. I can promise you that there were probably hundreds, if not thousands, of signs informing you of how the other person felt about you. You just chose to ignore them… much like I have.

I am the first person to admit that I am absolutely guilty of the blame game. I will openly admit that there are certain people in this world that once they waltz back into my life, I become the most lovesick, uneducated, idiot on the face of this planet. I would let any good thing in my life completely deteriorate because I would become so wrapped up in that person… which only ended up fueling my addiction. Without meaning to, I would drop every person, hobby, job, or anything else positive that was part of my life because I became so obsessed with making that person happy… even if that made my life less valuable. Once someone I loved came into my life, I would then dedicate my life to ignoring everything good in my life as an attempt to prove that all I ever wanted was that person and that I would do ANYTHING to make them happy. I cut off communication with people who didn’t deserve to be cut off. I discredited people who should not have been discredited because I didn’t want to do ANYTHING wrong to jeopardize my obsession. However, one thing that the hundreds of sleepless nights, nightmares, and hurtful days has taught me is that I cannot blame anyone else for how I was feeling, except for myself. Other people’s actions have always made it clear as to what their intentions were with me, I just chose to completely ignore them and live in my little lovesick, addicted, bubble.

One thing that I cannot express enough is that when someone SHOWS you how they feel about you…. BELIEVE THEM.

I can’t even begin to tell you how much time I have wasted making excuses for other people’s poor behavior and trying to tell myself that they are only acting like this because of one reason or another. The missed calls. The ignored texts. The distance. The complete disregard for my feelings… I excused it all. I made excuses for them when I shouldn’t have. They were clearly showing me that I wasn’t a priority in their life, but I ignored their behavior and I excused it. That is completely my fault. I have to take the blame.

I read the book “He’s just not into you” over a decade ago. A friend of mine has been begging me to re-read it for the past few months and I have ignored their request. I kept saying “I’ve already read it.” or “I’m too busy.” Looking back, all that was, was me subconsciously not wanting to acknowledge everything they write about in that book because I didn’t want to openly admit how incredibly pathetic I can be. However, deep down, I already knew the truth.

Last week, in a desperate attempt to give myself answers to questions I already knew the answer to and give myself a little bit of peace, I gave in and reread the book.

Wow.

What an eye opener.

It is incredibly hard to face reality sometimes. I don’t care how smart you are. I don’t care how well rounded you are. I don’t care how attractive you may be. It’s never easy to admit that you have been nothing more than a bind, lovesick fool.

Facing the fact that you were living in a fantasy world for so long almost makes you feel like you’re crazy… even if you are the most grounded person on the face of this planet. When you have to look back and calculate all of the mistakes you have made, it’s difficult. I don’t care who you are. It’s tough.

All I can say is that as incredibly difficult as it is, once you quit lying to yourself, making excuses for someone’s behavior, and pushing things under the rug that shouldn’t be ignored, it brings a new light to your life. Once you face the fact that you are nothing more that a 6th string cornerback that has recieved minimal play time (if any at all) all at the coaches (your exes) discretion, it makes it incredibly easy to never have the urge to pick up the phone ever again. Once you realize how irrelevant you were to someone who meant everything to you, you realize how pathetic you were and you almost become disgusted with yourself for allowing this unhealthy behavior to continue for so long.

With that being said, stop playing the blame game. Own your actions and don’t blame someone else for how you feel. It’s never easy, but this is the first step in finding peace in your life.

xoxox,
Ally

PS If you click the “Follow” button on my home page, it will prompt you for your email address. By submitting it, you will receive an email each time I post a blog entry. Your email address will never be sold to a third party and the only emails you will ever receive from me are updates each time I post a blog entry. 😉

Follow me!< strong>Facebook:< strong>Blog:https://www.facebook.com/SwipedOutLV/< strong>Personal:https://www.facebook.com/AllysonStagg< strong>Instagram:< strong>Blog: @SwipedOutLV

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Modern Romance: Chapter 3 (Part 2)

This half of the chapter talks about a lot of things that I have wanted to address for a very long time.

I want to start off by talking about one of my pet peeves that I encountered during my many stints with online dating.

I want to address the overwhelming amount of emails that women receive…and better yet, how males respond to us.

According to a study, women receive around 50 emails a day after going live on a dating website. Do you understand how many emails that is? I don’t even get that many emails in my junk mail folder from Target Cartwheel everyday. On top of females having one (or multiple) dating profiles on many sites, we have an inbox filled with emails that we need to respond to. We also have a handful of social media profiles, email accounts, as well a a slew of daily responsibilities such as work, children, chores etc. I CANNOT stand when 30 seconds after I read an email on an online dating site, if I don’t respond, a man says something snobby such as “Not interested, I guess.” or something along those lines.

Okay. Hold on.

Just because I didn’t respond in what you felt was a “timely manner” you’re going to cop an attitude with me? I don’t think so, buddy. Nothing will get you blocked, deleted, or written off faster than you thinking that you are any type of priority in my life when I literally haven’t even met you. Patience is a virtue, fellas. #knowyourrole

It’s also rude to open up with the line on an online dating site such as “Are you real?” First of all, yes. I’m real. Second of all, even if I were a 67 year old bald dude who is shirtless, lives in his parents basement, plays video games for 20 hours a day, and has Harry Potter bedsheets, if I took the time to create a fake online dating profile I’m definitely not going to admit that I’m cat fishing you just because you asked me if I’m real. Come on, now.

The chapter continued on and talked about who should approach who first as far as man and women. Look, I understand it’s 2017 and women are all about independence and blah blah blah, but at the end of the day, we still all want to be courted in some way or another. If you see a woman’s online dating profile that catches your eye, write her. Girls want guys to make the first move. No matter how independent, smart, witty, charming, funny, attractive, successful, or motivated we may be, there is still a small part of us that would like to be pursued. I can count on one hand the number of guys that I messaged first on dating websites and that had nothing to do with the fact that I feel like I need to be approached first. Actually, I am typically the pursuer in my past relationships… however that hasn’t worked in my favor so I have been trying to take a different approach. The few men that I did message first in my online dating adventures just had too many things on their profile that caught my attention for me to let them pass by. Please note that not all of them responded back to me, just like we don’t always respond back to every man that messages us.

The frustrating part about online dating is there has to be a perfect balance in your profile and none of us know what that is. You can’t say too much, and you can’t say too little. It is also interesting that there could be a woman 10x out of a mans league appearance wise (or visa versa) but if that woman says one tiny thing wrong in their online dating profile such as “Go Red Sox” and that particular man is a die hard Yankees fan, it could be a turn off and that man could completely write that woman off even though she is way out of his league looks wise. It’s incredibly interesting to me how that works.

In this chapter a man was interviewed who said that he started sending out what us women consider “douche bag messages” such as “Nice boobs. Wanna bang?” after he had took the time to send out several heartfelt messages with zero response. For a few moments, I had sympathy for him. I know exactly what it feels like to pour your heart and soul into a message or letter and have not have the recipient reciprocate the feelings and have it completely ignored and dismissed. It is an absolutely heart wrenching. However, the more I thought about it, I changed my mind. This guy was sending “heartfelt messages” to complete strangers and was dismissed, mine were to people who I loved deeply. Him being ignored and me being ignored were two completely different scenarios. Then I became annoyed. There is no way that this guy would walk up to a woman in a bar and say “Nice boobs. Wanna bang?” He’d get smacked for sure. So why men think it is okay to be so brazen and disrespectful through their opening online dating messages is something I will never comprehend. I guess for some men, sending out 50 inappropriate messages to women might produce one positive response and that is worth the gamble for them. Who knows. I’ll never understand it. I’ll continue to make fun of those douchebags and publicly shame them though. 🙂

Another issue that i have with online dating is that what people THINK that they want, is not actually what they actually want, need, and desire.

The perfect example of what people think they want vs what they need is my ex husband.

I met my now ex husband when I was 19 years old because I was utilizing my Bottle Rat fake ID (Please see me Bottle Rat 1 and 2 blog posts) in the bar that he was a bartender at. After two years of secretly dating, he proposed and I was lucky enough to show up at my straight laced Mormon parents house and inform them that I was engaged to a man 24 years my senior that they had never met who had three ex wives before me. *smiles*.

I’m sure you can only imagine how pleased they were. *rolls eyes*

At the end of the day, we had an okay marriage. Unfortunately between our age difference and lifestyle differences, we just couldn’t make it work. However now, we actually get complimented on how amicable our “ex” relationship is. We can still sit down at dinner together or go to our son’s baseball games together because we decided a long time ago that our mutual love for our son was FAR more important than any hatred or anger we have towards one another. I waved child support and alimony in exchange for the agreement that we would both be the best parents that we could be to our son. That was by far the best decision I have made in my life. I believe that us being amicable and being friends before enemies has only added value to my sons life since we were not able to give him the conventional “mom and dad living in the same house.” We both want the best for our son as well as each other. I have hugged his girlfriends since then and he has shaken hands with my boyfriends since then because as long as we are happy and our son is happy, that is all that matters at this point.

Plus… we’re divorce. What is there really to fight about anymore anyway?

Another example is when I met Poodle, he was single, owned his own home, and had a steady job. He had a routine. I was a single mother… actually, scratch that. I wasn’t even single. I lived separate from my now ex husband but we were not legally divorced. I had a kid. I was working as a waitress. I didn’t have a college degree. I didn’t have much direction in my life. I lived in an apartment with two roommates. I was loud and opinionated. Quite frankly, I was a mess. I can promise you that I was the absolute opposite of someone that Poodle thought he should or wanted to be with. However, at the time, in a weird way, it worked for us. Why? I don’t know. It just did. However, looking back, if he would have just briefly viewed my online dating profile instead of meeting me at a blackjack table, we may have never even had a first date because he might have swiped left fairly quickly. I didn’t look that great on paper. Luckily now, things are different. Now, looking back, maybe it would have been better for the both of us if he could have “viewed” me online and swiped left. Maybe online dating profiles help us see who is more “fit” for our life. Maybe if Poodle saw me for who i really am, I could have saved myself a lot of heartache. I don’t know, but it’s something I’ve been thinking a lot about lately.

Now I have to address a topic I have been on the fence about for years. Tinder.

Did you know that three years ago, Tinder was valued at between $750 million and $1 billion dollars? Can you believe that this tiny little swipe right or left app was worth that much money. This is another one of those “Why didn’t I think of that?” moments. In fact, one of the two guys that invented Tinder was going to school to be a party planner! Can you imagine him going into a job interview?!?

Interviewer guy: Can you plan a party?

Tider guy: Well,  I think so. I mean, I invented Tinder.

Interviewer guy: Wait. The app where you can literally swipe left or right for a date that has taken college campuses by storm and is valued at almost $1 billion dollars?

Tinder guy: Yeah.

Interviewer guy:….

TInder guy:.

Interviewer guy: You’re hired.

I can’t stop laughing about that.

I also learned that Tinder is the straight version of Grindr.

Grindr is a male gay dating app that matches you with mutual male gay hotties within a certain mile radius.

Okay. Hold on.

This definitely explains why I had -5 hits on the Grindr dating profile that I created. #noted

Through this chapter I also learned that there are thousands of relationships that have bloomed from Tinder. The average age of the Tinder user is 27. I seriously thought this app was for 19 years olds. I also learned that the average Tinder user logs in 11 times a day and stays logged in for 7 minutes which means the typical user is spending 1.25 hours of their day on Tinder. Thats A LOT of time.

Although I had a lot of hate towards Tinder, I think I might have changed my mind. Maybe Tinder is my next stop in hopes to find my prince charming. *shrugs*

Also, can we get a round of applause for how far we have come? Can you guys believe that people used to be put in prison for PDA? Can you even imagine?

Prisoner 1: What are you in for?

Prisoner 2: I’m doing 5 years for holding hands with my boo. How about you?

Prisoner 1: I’m doing life for smooches.

Again… I can’t stop laughing.

xoxox,
Ally

PS If you click the “Follow” button on my home page, it will prompt you for your email address. By submitting it, you will receive an email each time I post a blog entry. Your email address will never be sold to a third party and the only emails you will ever receive from me are updates each time I post a blog entry. 😉

Follow me!< strong>Facebook:< strong>Blog:https://www.facebook.com/SwipedOutLV/< strong>Personal:https://www.facebook.com/AllysonStagg< strong>Instagram:< strong>Blog: @SwipedOutLV

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Q and A Wednesday (Week 12)

Hi guys.

Some of these these questions are from months ago, but I promise that I’m going to do my best to catch up on them over the next few weeks.

Q: Where have you been?

A: I was a little lost for the past few months which made it difficult for me to write. Writers block is real, ya’ll. Also, my life has been pretty boring. I was consumed with school, kids, baseball, and life in general for a few months so it was extremely difficult to write.

Also, please see my prior blog post titled “Addicted.” It explains a big part of my absence.

Q: If you could have given your blog another name, what would it be?

A: I don’t know. HowIMetYourStepfather.wordpress.com?

Kidding. Kinda.

I think Swiped Out is the perfect name for my blog (Thank you very much to my Abercrombie and Bitch sister for this amazing blog name) because 90% of the dates that I have been on have come from online dating.

Although my blog entries are my personal stories, I feel like the reason I have any sort of following is because people can relate to me. I have no shame admitting how pathetic I can be and all of the ridiculously embarrassing things I have done over the years. The small details in my stories may be different, but the things that I have been through, the feelings I have felt, and the things that I have experienced are relatable because I truly believe we have all been through them at one point or another in our lives. Our journeys and stories are all different, but the outcome is always the same.

Q: What is the most positive thing to come out of your blog?

A: First of all, for me, writing is therapeutic. I love you all very much, but I write for me. I am not the best verbal communicator. It is something I recognize and that I am constantly working on, but it will take time. Sitting down and writing my thoughts out at my own pace is so much easier for me than trying to express my feelings verbally. I definitely feel that since I have realized that verbal communication is not my strong point, I have worked harder on trying to express my thoughts and feelings in a rational matter, but I have 30+ years of undoing everything I knew. I grew up in a household where although there was a lot of love, we didn’t talk about things. I’m slowly trying to teach myself how to communicate how I am feeling in an appropriate manner. However, as I work on that, it has been nice to voice my feelings through words. Which brings me to my next point…

I can’t even begin to tell you how much your love and support means to me. This blog is absolutely minimal in the scheme of all of our lives, but yesterday when I logged in at 3:00pm and saw that I had over 5,000 views on my last blog post in the past 24 hours, I broke down in tears in my son’s school parking lot. Then, a little later when I checked my Swiped Out email and saw hundreds of emails in my account that I haven’t seen in months, it just solidified what I am (very slowly) doing. I really, really needed that love and support this week. Some of the emails were mean. Some of the emails were nice. Some of the emails were telling me that they can relate to a certain post that I wrote. Some of the emails were questions for me. Some of the emails were junk mail. Either way, every single email means something to me. I don’t always agree with them and that’s okay. Then sometimes I could swear that some of you guys are eavesdropping on my thoughts because you write me emails about things that I haven’t typed or mentioned to a soul in the entire world, but I have thought to myself a billion times before. Either way, I take all criticism and praise with pride. Which brings me to my next point…

The second best thing that has come out of this blog happened this week.

Many moons ago, I used to be a professional makeup artist. Living in Las Vegas (the marriage capital of the world) I have done THOUSANDS of bridal makeup applications over the years.

Thats right. I’m kind of the Jack of all trades, master of none. I was a professional makeup artist. I can make myself look really scary and I can make myself look really good. I can also give myself a fake black eye. So please, don’t mess with me.

Kidding. Kind of. 😉

Okay back to my story…

In 2009 I had the pleasure of doing the makeup for a bride from Australia. When my team and I met her and her groom, we fell in LOVE. Phil and Nella had a love that anyone would envy and it was awesome to be a small part of their special day. My team and I ended up meeting them after their wedding and taking them to all of our favorite places so that they could experience the “real” Las Vegas that all of the locals here have grown to love. We had such an amazing night.

Nella and Phil went back to Australia, and not too long after I recieved an email from Nella informing that Phil had passed away. I couldn’t believe it. I was still high off our boozy memories that we created at a little piano bar that we took them to down on Fremont Street. Nella was obviously devastated and my team and I were devestated as well. I never heard from Nella again.

…Until a few days ago. I recieved an email in my Swiped Out account that said:

Hey,

I hope you’re well!

I’m hoping you’re the same Ally who I met in July 2009 in Vegas for my wedding to Phil. You did my hair and makeup at the MGM Grand for my wedding.

I was looking through a bunch of photos this evening and found the boozy night we had on our last night in Vegas with you in some great spots.

I know it’s been a while but I thought I would reach out and say hi!

If you’re ‘my ally’ hit me up on fb or flick me an email here!

Sorry for the bother if none of the above rings any bells!!

My heart skipped a beat.

Of course I remembered her! Her and Phil had a love that I couldn’t help but envy and they were both so incredibly kind and fun.

Out of the thousands of bridal makeup applications that I have encountered, she is one person that I have thought about weekly for over eight years. For her to find me all the way from Australia through my silly little Swiped Out blog that has nothing to do with makeup was absolutely unreal.

The internet is a very powerful thing, you guys.

Maybe now I can go visit her in Australia and she can take me to a few of her favorite local spots. Australian guys are hot and even if they’re not, they have the accent… Am I right?

Q: Do you think your blog has any negative affects on your life?

A: I’m sure it does, but I don’t care. I’m basically a professional at ruining my own life so this tiny little blog isn’t going to have much more of a negative impact on that.

Q: What is your favorite blog post that you have shared with us thus far?

A: This is actually a really hard question because every post I write comes from a special place in my heart and serves a purpose for me at that particular moment in time. With that being said, if I had to choose one blog post, it would have to be my post “Sid.” That was the first blog post that I wrote on a whim thinking that only five people would read it, but it had a much greater impact. It was the blog post that showed me that I’m not alone in this complicated dating world. It is the blog post that proved that I don’t know a lot, but I do have a way of expressing my feelings through words. Most importantly, it was the blog post that kept me writing.

Q: How do you know if a guy really likes you?

A: I am so the wrong person to answer this question.

I can certainly tell you how you know that a guy doesn’t like you. Not like I personally pay attention to any of these signs anyway, but my personal dating strategy is to waste years of my life trying to convince people who don’t care about me that they should care about me. Let’s not forget that I have my PhD in chasing men who will never love me.

For what it’s worth, you can always tell a guy that you’re celibate. If he sticks around, he probably likes you.

The celibate strategy also works if you have a disgustingly creepy older man who is trying to negotiate a sugar baby/sugar daddy relationship with you. Simply tell him that you’re celibate and watch him run for the hills.

Not like I would know because I’ve definitely never used that strategy before.

*looks side to side*

And you all thought that I lost my sense of humor. 😉

xoxox,
Ally

PS If you click the “Follow” button on my home page, it will prompt you for your email address. By submitting it, you will receive an email each time I post a blog entry. Your email address will never be sold to a third party and the only emails you will ever receive from me are updates each time I post a blog entry. 😉

Follow me!

Blog: @SwipedOutLV

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