Dating World: Red flags mean smooth sailing?
What would I tell my 18-year-old self now that I’m 36?
(Photo provided by Jaimie Beebe)
“Stop making bad choices, Dumbass! When you meet Failure Frank and Loser Larry – RUN!”
Unfortunately, I still don’t take my own advice. I recently met a statuesque sexpot covered in tattoos… who had stopped shooting heroin and snorting cocaine six days earlier. Congrats! That makes him date-able, right?
The next day I ran into him again and congratulated him on being seven days sober … But he said he had a hard night and backpedaled to day 1 … Congrats?
“Hello Red Flag, my name’s Jaimie.”
Most girls spot a red flag and run the other way. But not this girl! He was just so good looking … before I realized what I was doing (mesmerized by his utter sexiness) we exchanged phone numbers. What was I thinking? #sorrymom
But, it got me thinking about my past. Have I always chosen Deadbeat Donald over Perfect Paul?
Let’s be realistic; there isn’t enough room in this blog to dissect every relationship I’ve had, so I contacted a few old lovers and friends seeking guidance in my quest for Prince Charming.
(Photo provided by Jaimie Beebe)
Doctor Empty (We dated for approximately 6 years and broke up around seven years ago. He lives in Los Angeles and dates a really hot chick.):
Me: “Why did we break up?”
Doctor Empty: “You told me you liked to think of ways to hurt me while I was sleeping.”
Me: “Oh come on! That stuff was all in good fun!”
Doctor Empty: “We broke up because we didn’t like any of the same things.”
Me: “True. But why do all my other relationships fail?”
Doctor Empty: “Because you only date cheating narcissistic morons.”
Me: “Duh. I know that, but why doesn’t it ever work out?”
Mister Magical Muchacho (We’ve been great friends for many years; he lives in Los Angeles and is married to a really hot chick.):
Me: “Why aren’t I married?”
MMM: “Because you are free like a bird.”
Me: “That’s lame. I’m serious.”
MMM: “Because you choose to date the wrong guys.”
Me: “I’m seeing a pattern.”
(Photo provided by Jaimie Beebe)
Random Guy (Some hot guy I saw walking down the street.):
Me: “Hi, would you date me?”
Random Guy: “For sure!”
Me: “Why”
Random Guy: “Because you’re hot!”
Me: “Ok Thanks. Just wondering.”
Needing more information, I decided to ask a few girlfriends.
The Brunette (currently single):
Me: “Where do I find a decent guy?”
The Brunette: “If I had the answer to that I wouldn’t be single.”
Me: “Good point.”
The Blonde (happily married):
Me: “Why can’t I find an amazing guy?”
The Blonde: “You’re looking too hard. Go do your traveling … See where your heart falls. The second you stop looking is the second you’ll meet the right guy!”
Me: “Yeah… That’s how I met Chesty.”
(Photo provided by Jaimie Beebe)
The Blonde: “And you have really bad taste in men.”
Consolidating the advice from my past lovers, friends, and a random guy I met, I’ve determined that although I’m beyond beautiful I’m a horrible judge of character.
From now on, no more second chances. As soon as I find out they are married, have a girlfriend, are on drugs, unemployed, or hate dogs – I’m out the door. No second dates, no extra texts, and no kiss goodnight.
And the Blonde gave me another great idea — Girls weekend in Cabo?
At the age of 36, Jaimie has gone on one adventure after another. Getting an idea in her head she isn’t afraid to jump into action… Usually with no planning and never considering the consequences. At 17 she left her small Iowa town to follow the band Phish and live in her car, she spent time protesting logging in Oregon, got arrested for organizing a topless march in Ohio, received a Bachelor’s degree in photography, spent a month camping in the forest at a rainbow gathering, received a Master’s degree in Music Management, managed some rock bands, modeled for Playboy, slept with a rock & roll legend a few times (hey, you would too), sold real estate in Los Angeles, bought a condo in Las Vegas and lost it to the bank when the market crashed, built her house in the Hollywood Hills in a bikini after the contractor she hired stole her money, took classes to become a magician, wrote articles and columns published in several magazines and websites, ran a production company, produced commercials with huge stars like John Stamos and Betty White and currently owns a casting company. And now she’s taking her readers with her on her next adventure: Mancation.
A painfully obvious narcissistic vanity piece (replete with photos of said narcissist) that concludes with ‘let’s go to Cabo.’ It’s hard to imagine a worse cobbling together of concepts, especially if a young woman, trying to take a cue from those of us who inhabit the adult world, were to read it. Abysmal.
You don’t like my selfies?
Truly awful blather
Couldn’t have been that awful if you read the whole thing and felt the need to reply 🙂
Thanks for making me famous!