tspencer227: (Default)
My pulse had barely managed to return to a halfway normal rate when i heard the knob turn and the bathroom door opened. What I saw when she stepped out immediately sent it racing back to match it's former cadence.

The bikini was mostly white, with a sprinkling of multicolored stripes and strips and sprinkles scattered over the surface of the material top and bottom. Tiny ties behind her neck and sitting low on each hip held the three impossibly sparse triangles in place. Everywhere I looked that wasn't covered in fabric I saw smooth, clear skin just starting to pop up with goosebumps. She shivered slightly as she somewhat patiently watched me take in the spectacular view in front of me.

"Ok, can we go now, because I'm really, really antsy."

I jerked out of my fantasy, quickly nodding yes. All the blood in my body was now pooled below my waist, and I was unable to do anything more than just react. She smirked, threw a beach towel in my direction, and made for the bedroom door.

I followed the swaying colors down the hall, through the living room, past the somewhat judgy stares of all three of her roommates, out the front door, down the steps, down the sidewalk, across a parking lot, up a sidewalk, down a dark path, and through a gate that was supposed to be locked, but wasn't.

The overheard lights had been shut off but the jets were still on, and we quickly and quietly dropped our towels on a nearby lounger, kicked our sandles off into the darkness, and holding each others hands waded into the water.

She led me to the deepest part of the hot tub before she launched her attack.


The only warning I saw was a flash in her eyes, then she lunged at me. Arms grabbed me around my neck. Legs wrapped around my waist. Face almost collided with mine as she forced her lips against mine. Tongue spearing out desperately seeking mine. My hands were suddenly on her ass. Hips ground against me, moving, testing. Hands squeezing muscles. Nails raking across back.

After several minutes of that she pulled away suddenly. Leaned back. Eyes were open wide and foggy with lust. Mouth half open. Tongue licked lips. Hand reached behind her neck, pulling the string. Colors tumbled into the water. Small, rounded, spectacular, perky breasts heaved as she breathed hard. Nipples like large pebbles in tiny light brown ponds of areola stood out proudly begging for attention.

My arm tightened around her waist. Pulled her back to me. Other hand went to her chest between us. Circling around her perfect breast. Thumb found her nipple. Our lips found each other again.

Her fingers found the waistband of my shorts. Pulled the string. Reached in. Fingers closed around hard flesh. Pulled out the object of her lust. Hand stroked along my length. Once. Twice. Moans into each other's mouths. My hand found the splash of colors under the water. Pushed it aside. Fingers on warmth. Fingers twitched back and forth. Moan. Fingers in warmth. Moan.

She pushed her mouth from mine. Looked at me. Eyes were burning. Head nodded slowly. Hand still grasped me.

"I need this. Now."

She moved towards me again. Hand guided me home under the water. Heat found hardness. Legs around me. Slowly joined. All 8 1/2 inches driven home. Her eyes flew fully open, her back arched, breasts against me, nipples driven into my chest, loud cries escaping from her wide open mouth, and the heat pulsed and rippled around the hardness.

"OHHOLYSHITDONTMOVEDONTMOVEDONTMOVEINEEDEDTHISRIGHTHEREYESYESYES!!!"

I tensed every muscle I could below the waist, holding back the explosion screaming to get out of me. Forced the throbbing back down. Hands gripped her waist tighter. Thumbs dug into their familiar spots-

"YESJUSTLIKETHATHOLDMEOHMYGODYESYESYES!!!!"

She rode out the waves as they racked get body, writhing and surging against me. The whole time I stood perfectly still. Watched. Indulged. Enjoyed. Swelled.

She slumped against me for half a second, taking care to make sure I didn't slide out. Her breath came fast and ragged, her body and hair sticky and damp with sweat.

She came back to life, her eyes finding mine.

"Your turn."

Her legs tightened around my waist. Her hips rose and fell against me, my hips moved against her in concert.

In.
Out.
In.
Out.

At the same time, between ragged breaths and grunts of exertion, our voices found words to urge the other on.

"Holy shit, it's a good thing you're not any thicker or I'd be crawling for the next week! That's it, a little faster, a little harder, oh my god you fill me up so perfectly, I can feel you getting harder, that's it, I want to feel all of it, why haven't done this sooner, oh my god I'm close, don't stop, oh I've needed this all day today, oh keep doing that, how are you so good."

"Ugh, how can you be so tight, and shit, you're getting wetter, unf, I don't know how much longer I can hold off, mmmm you've been planning this all day haven't you, holy shit you're beautiful, oh god yes, keep doing that with your hips, just like that, oh I love when you do that, oh you're getting tighter and yes keep doing that with your muscles, oh you're so good, how did I do lucky, oh shit, I'm almost there, ugh, it's coming, it's coming, holy shit I'm-"

She pulled into me hard. Hip bones connected. Her hands behind my neck gripped tight enough to leave bruises. Her legs locked behind me, her heels digging into my back as she forced me in as deep as I could physically go. As we bumped together, she exploded. The ripples started deep within her, massaging me, coaxing and cajoling me. The heat shot up her body anywhere our skin was joined, the ripples expanding outward from her center to send shock waves through her arms, her legs, every part of her alive and quivering with the sheer electric charge.

One heartbeat.

My own control was slipping. I swelled further, ready to stage my own explosion. My entire lower body throbbed as a single unit.

Two heartbeats.

From the tips of my toes on, everything surged upwards. I tensed, flexed my PC muscle just as I felt-

Three heartbeats.

The strongest wave yet shot through her core. Her lips crushed violently against mine, sending her screams of ecstacy down my throat.

The dam broke. My control gave way to the rushing torrent. I sent my own scream of ecstasy back down her throat.

The first round burst out of me just as one of her ripples waves crested. She rode it in just in time to catch a second.

And a third.

And a fourth.

Her body clung fiercely to mine, relishing every blast that racked our bodies where we were one, filling her over and over again, adding yet more great to an already molten inferno.

She finally succeeded in emptying me, though I fired another half dozen times, my animal side kicking in, wanting to everything i possibly could.

"Mmm, I love feeling you do that inside me," she purred, her hands faking to my waist as she leaned back in the dark water, I've again giving me a full view of her marvelous, awe-inspiring nude form. My motions slowed, then stilled as we grew quiet, indulging in the visual of each other, of us as I stayed buried deep within her.

"I love how our skin tones look against each other, how it looks when you're inside me," she whispered, as if saying it too loudly would break some magical spell that bound us together.

"And I love how we drive each other so wild," I replied, similarly hushed. "This was incredible."

She gave me an evil grin and gently rocked her hips from side to side. Deep within her, we both felt me twitch.

"Boy, we're just getting started."
tspencer227: (Default)
She continued dancing, turning sideways to give me an eyeful of her long, lean profile, tugging up the bottom of her sports bra just enough to show the bottom swell of her small, amazingly perky breasts. Still biting her lower lip, she flitted her gaze to my lap, making sure here actions were having the intended effect.

A small smile played at the corners of her mouth as she moved from her top, running them both down the smooth, slightly muscled front of her long, bare torso, still glistening with a faint sheen of sweat. Her fingers played with the waistband of her shorts as the gyrations and thrusts of her hips persisted. She turned again, putting her back to me as she bent at the waist and exaggerated the circles her hips were making while she deliberately worked the waistband of her shorts down her hips. She paused briefly and shot a positively evil look over her shoulder as the very top of her green thong underwear became visible above her shorts. Her hips shifted back to a slow, steady, seductive, sensuous side to side sway that made my blood boil in my veins and my heart hammer like the beat of the music she used as her guide. Slowly, slowly, the light blue material dropped lower over the flare of her hips and the round of her butt.

She sent another furtive look at me, her eyes again checking to verify the front of my board shorts was still properly tented. She showed her satisfaction with a smirk that again had her biting her lower lip just slightly.

She paused as the song ended, then as the next one began, immediately dropped low, then began to rise back up in a deliberate motion, her shorts dragging down her legs to the floor as she languidly came back up.



A low moan escaped my lips as she turned sideways to me, hands playing up her thighs, past her waist, along the muscle lines that ran up her stomach. Her hands continued to rise higher, inching up over the bottom of her sports bra before cupping her small, gently rounded breasts, the hard points of her excited nipples just faintly visible through the soft material.

"Mmmmmmm," the groan escaped from deep within me before I was even conscious of it.

Her right eye twitched in a quick wink, and her hands resumed their climb up her chest, her long, delectable neck, and into her long, thick hair.

As the dark halo cascaded between her fingers and back down across her shoulders she began moving towards me. Step by step, toes pointed, legs coming high to step out of her shorts puddled on the floor. Knees rising up as she transitioned to the bed, stalking up from the end towards me, her shoulders and hips swinging in her feline crawl towards me. I found myself scooting back until my back collided with the wall at the head of the bed.

Trapped.

She purred with delight as she saw this, arms and legs bending to put her weight on my body. Her arms passed my hips, her eyes looking absolutely feral as they locked into my very soul.

Another step.

I could feel the tips of her breasts dragging up my thighs. My skin burned and my hands ached, but I didn't dare move.

Another step.

My throbbing, impossibly painful hardness now found itself nestled in the modest valley between her breasts. She stopped for a moment, licked her lips, and resumed.

Another step.

She dragged her breasts further up my chest, slowing to lick, then lightly bite my left nipple. My hips thrust upward into her on their own accord, her stomach writhing against me as a reply. She purred around the nipple she held between her teeth, then released it, dragging her tongue around it one last time before our eyes were forced back to meet each other.

Another step.

Her chest against mine. Our heartbeats meeting each other's frenetic paces. Or breathing loudly comingling. Her legs folding under her to lay outside of mine, thigh to thigh, calf to calf. Her lips were inches away from mine.

One. Last. Wiggle.

Her mouth crept closer to mine as I closed my eyes, my entire body straining to get get closer to her.

The kiss didn't come. Instead, I felt her breath, hot and heavy against my ear as she whispered in a barely audible voice, "I'm going to go change. Then we're going down to the hot tub and finishing this properly."

She lifted off me, quickly getting to her feet as she headed for the closet.

"In the meantime-" she said, picking up what I could now were the pieces of a bikini before turning back and leveling an index finger at the obscenely visible bulge in my shorts,

"-down boy."

She trounced off to the bathroom, making sure I could catch every ripple, jiggle, and sway of her near-naked body as she went.
tspencer227: (Default)
It started as a typical enough Thursday.


We were in port for a long weekend after two weeks underway for whatever exercise du jour was in the cards for our shortened workup cycle. As was our custom when I was in town, Thursday nights meant yoga, or “90 minutes, 26 poses, and 104 degrees of foreplay,” as her roommate referred to it after attending a class with us once. As was our custom, we each had to use every ounce of willpower we possessed to focus on the poses, the breathing, the technique, and find our centers, resisting the animal urges to indulge in the visual smorgasbords that were our bodies.
Even though we both took it seriously, I could feel the distracted energy emanating from her body as strongly as it must have been emitting from my own.

Finally, the class was over and she made a beeline for me as we quietly left the studio, wrapping her long arms around my chest from behind, and leaning in to coyly whisper in my ear,



"Let's hurry up and get out of here. I have some fun ideas for things to do tonight, since you don't have to work tomorrow..."



As I went to put my shirt back on, she stopped me, noticing the bruise on my side that was just starting to turn a dark shade of purple. Her eyes met mine as her fingers lightly traced around the edges of the mark.



"Rugby?" she asked, a vaguely amused look curling the corners of her mouth.



"Rugby." I confirmed, shrugging slightly and bracing for what was coming next.



"You boys and your silly macho games, always trying to show off for each other," she teased, her fingers now lightly tracing over the hard outlines of the muscles in my shoulders, my biceps, my pecs.



I snorted. "...says the girl who's idea of an awesome second date was a Bikram yoga class."



I wrapped an arm around her slender waist, pulling her to me until we were eye to eye.



"And don't even try to tell me that wasn't about showing off."



She batted her big green eyes at me playfully and hooked her hands behind my neck as my other arm naturally fell to also rest around the waist.



"Oh, that absolutely had nothing to do with showing off," she replied, her voice getting husky with seduction. "it was about seeing if you'd be able to keep up with me.'



"Plus," she added, giving me a quick peck on the lips, "I just wanted an excuse to see you without a shirt on."



"And...?"



"And what?"



"Did you like what you saw?" I pressed, squeezing her closer to me. I heard her breath catch in her throat in surprise, and through her thin sports bra and sweat soaked tank top, I could feel her heartbeat accelerating.



"If you get me home quickly enough, you might just find out for yourself," she replied, barely loud enough for me to hear.



Less than a minute later we were heading for the 805 Freeway as fast as I could negotiate my little red Prelude through the twisty canyon roads of eastern San Diego. Even though the temperature would soon begin to drop with the quickly gathering darkness, we had the sun roof open and the windows down, enjoying the unusually warm mid-October evening.



Our on-ramp for the freeway was coming up quickly, and I shot a wolfish grin in her direction. The gaze that met mine veritably combusted as one of her hands went for the door handle, the other went for the armrest, and she stretched those long, long, long, long legs out to brace in the footwell.



Faster than conscious thought I rolled onto the clutch, dove into the brakes, and downshifted to third. With a continuation of those motions, I rolled my heel back onto the throttle and eased off the clutch as I simultaneously cranked the wheel to the right. All 270 painstakingly massaged horsepower pushed us back into our seats as the meticulously tuned suspension bit into the curve. In the seat next to me, she squealed with delight as the little sports car rocketed up the ramp and onto the freeway.



Within a handful of adrenaline-fueled heartbeats I had us at a steady 75 as we picked our way through traffic, her long, dark brown, almost black hair blowing in the wind as we laughed and sang along to everything on the radio. Meanwhile, my right hand had inexplicably found her lap and was deliberately stroking her lean , muscular thigh . At the same time, her left hand had found its way up to the back of my head and was idly playing there, caressing my scalp and ears.



After what felt like an eternity, the exit to her condo came up, and with the same practiced ease I smoothly made the transition from freeway to surface streets.



Her hand found mine atop the gearshift knob.

"Have I mentioned recently how much it turns me on when you drive like that?"



Once again, her voice was dripping with desire and just a touch of urgency.



"Well then, I'll keep driving this way to get us back to your place as quickly as possible," I teased, squeezing her held hand as we jointly eased the transmission into fourth gear for the last bit of the sprint to her complex.



The race to find a parking space, grab our mats, water bottles, and towels, sprint for her condo, and wait for her shaky fingers to fumble for the right key seemed to take even longer than the drive down the 805.



After a brief struggle as our still sweaty bodies fell against the door and each other, her key slid smoothly into the lock, the knob was turned, and our tangle of limbs, lips, and hormones tumbled into the living room.



The two roommates who were home gave exaggerated rolls of their eyes as we continued our tumble through the living room, down the hallway, and to her bedroom.



Before the latch clicked shut she was peeling her skin tight tank top up her long, gently muscled torso, pulling it over her head before frantically throwing her hands around my neck, pulling her to me as hard as she could, and forcing her lips against mine. My own hands dropped to the gentle swell of her hips, then settled onto the firm, perfectly rounded cheeks of her perfectly heart-shaped ass. A soft moan escaped around the edges of her mouth as she forced her tongue between my slightly parted lips. Electric sparks of pure, unadulterated lust shot between us anywhere we touched each other, the room getting hotter with each passing heartbeat of our rapidly rising pulses.



I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of her shorts, but she broke the kiss long enough shake her head slightly, her green eyes now a roaring inferno.



"Not yet," she teased.



"Shower?" I asked, my arousal sapping my brain of too much blood to allow for any responses more than a single word.



"I'm not ready for us to get clean yet. We're already dirty, and I have a pretty great idea for how we can get even dirtier."



With a sudden burst of strength, she turned us around, and with a hard push to my chest, sent me backwards onto her bed.



"Don't. Move." She ordered tersely, a surprisingly serious look crossing her face.



I knew better than to ignore it.





When she was satisfied I was taking her directions seriously, she sasheyed over to her desk, making sure I was taking in every flawless inch of her long, long, long, long legs.



Two presses on her computer's keyboard, and her favorite sexy time playlist picked up where we'd left off last night.







Throwing an impish glance over her shoulder at me, she rummaged through a drawer, pulling something out that she placed on top of her dresser, obscured behind her back as she turned to face to me. Her eyes locked on to mine and she bit her lip as she crossed her arms and hooked her fingers under her light gray sports bra. She swayed in time to the music, her body finding the rhythm instinctually. My own breath caught in my throat as I soaked in every detail of the impossibly salacious striptease that was beginning before me.
tspencer227: (Karma)
Days since we last had sex: 91
Days since we last kissed: ~90

There's an old saying in the Navy, and particularly among Nukes when the suck is at its maximum, that, "it'll get better after ____."

That blank to be filled in starts in Boot Camp, and stays with a sailor throughout his or her time in service. Basically, it's the Navy's version of "the check is in the mail" in terms of lies you hear on a regular basis.
tspencer227: (Karma)
As I started getting ready to leave Charlotte and come home this afternoon, I began to realize that I wasn't looking forward to going home- not because I didn't want to leave my family- it definitely wasn't that- but because I wasn't really looking forward to getting home to K. As I fought my way through traffic up I-85, I came to the realization that I was actually dreading being back at home, because I suspected that I wouldn't exactly be welcomed home with arms wide open.

I texted K as I reached Raleigh city limits, telling her I was stopping for food, and asking if she wanted anything. No reply, and I found myself going way out of my way to get to the restaurant I'd decided to pick up takeout from. Finally I couldn't put off going home any longer, and parked in front of the house, not behind her car (so she could leave if she wanted to at any time), and walked inside. All the lights were off, the dog was in the crate, the cat was on the front step looking hungry, and the bedroom door was shut. I walked back to the bedroom and gently kissed her on the cheek, but she didn't so much as stir. I went and let the dog out of her crate, took her outside where she was eager to relieve herself and stretch her legs. We came back in after getting the mail, and I could immediately tell that her ear (it's been badly infected for a while, and I'd reminded K of this after the vet had expressed concern about it last week) was seriously bothering her again. The dog ran back to the bedroom, no doubt happy to be able to run around and wanting to go see her mom, and nosed open the door. K woke up, and was obviously immediately annoyed by the dog's nails on the wood floors. I took the dog into the office with me, but it was already too late. Between the nails on the wood floor, and her rolling on the floor rubbing her ear while I looked for the medicine, K had had enough, and left. I put the drops in Reagan's ears, and texted K that I had her calmed down.

"It is truly ridiculous that you think that she's the problem."

Nice. Welcome home, indeed. Just as I feared.

"Oh that's right, because when I'm not around, everything's perfect for you, right?"
I deleted my first reply after thinking for half a second.

"Of course she's not. After all, before I got home, she was in her crate scratching her ear on the other side of the house from the bedroom."

"hope that made you feel better."

Nice. Real nice. Especially since she wants another dog, when she can barely stand her own most of the time. You don't just order a dog who's been locked in a crate all day to lie down, especially not and old dog to lie down on a wooden floor- it's hard for her to get back up again.

I'd had enough and left myself, after she got home and greeted me with an icy glare. Driving around aimlessly for a while, I finally ended up at Dorothea Dix park, overlooking downtown Raleigh. We'd gone up there for New Years Eve a couple of years ago, when K didn't want to go out to a party or anywhere else to celebrate. There, I finally let out all the frustrations I've been cooping up the last couple of weeks- the utter lack of affection, the constant feeling like I'm more of an annoyance than anything else, the nagging suspicion that we're not even going to make it a full year, the questioning whether or not I *want* us to make it a year...

It's too much. I'm looking at therapists, but aside from that, I really, really need somebody else to talk to, but I don't know who yet. I just know I can't keep going on like this- I'm feeling lonelier with every passing week of us not doing anything.
tspencer227: (Karma)
Two weeks before Thanksgiving, we found out that my last living grandmother, who's responsible for a lot of my upbringing, only has about six weeks to live. My wife and I had been planning to spend Thanksgiving with her mom and brother, but as soon as I heard the news, I knew that I needed to be there for what could very well be our last holiday celebration with her. I reminded her that her brother and mom were invited, but suspected pretty much immediately that they would decline. K told me she understood my reasoning, but that she felt I was being selfish, and that my timing was really inconsiderate. And then spent the next five days not talking to me- during which time I slept in the guest bedroom.

I spent last weekend in Charlotte helping my parents move into a new house and get my grandmother settled with them. I told them the reason that once again their daughter in law hadn't come with was because she was working so many hours. Not totally false, but not totally true. A lot easier than saying, "my wife doesn't really like a lot of the family, despises our hometown, and dreads having to spend time with both to the point of driving herself to the verge of anxiety attacks any time I suggest coming to visit."

When I got back Sunday night, she finally acknowledged I was back, and we finally talked a little bit, and she explained to me why she had been so unhappy with me. Even though I still don't understand exactly why she was fighting about it, I didn't want to really keep the fight going. Finally, at one point, she turned to me as we were laying in bed.

"Do you think we should talk about setting a deadline, and if things aren't going better, look into annulments?"

My immediate response was "no!" In my mind, as soon as we started talking about deadlines, we were admitting defeat, and that there really might not be anything worth saving or fixing.

The rest of the week was fairly quiet, we talked a bit more than we had in several weeks, and I left for Charlotte after work on Wednesday. K would be celebrating Thanksgiving with her mom and brother at her brother's house in Apex, and was planning on joining me in Charlotte later in the weekend, probably Friday, to spend some time with my family.

Wednesday was spent moving as much as possible from the rental house to the one my parents had bought farther south, making sure my grandmother was comfortable, and catching up with all my family that had come in town from all over. My youngest brother was in town from New York with his girlfriend, my sister was hanging out but her boyfriend was in school in Maine, and my next brother was going to be bringing his girlfriend- so adding in everybody else, I was pretty much the only person there going stag. Fun.

Thanksgiving was wonderful. We kids did the vast majority of the prep and cooking, while my mom barked orders and directed everybody not cooking to set up tables and chairs. My grandmother was doted on by family and friends who'd been with us for decades, and remarked over and over about what a great time she was having. Still sharp as a tack- I hope I'm still that way at 82 years old. Twenty friends, family, and guests sat down together Thursday, and everybody thoroughly enjoyed themselves, the food, and the company. I was reminded once again of how much I'd been missing being around my family all the years I was on the west coast, and even those times I hadn't been able to meet up even when I was back in North Carolina.

The rest of the evening was spent catching up, watching football and movies, and talking with the family before we all called it a night. My mom had set it up so that K and I could stay at the now empty rental house knowing that my wife the introvert would appreciate the space to herself after interacting with all my loud, crazy family. Later in the evening, I texted K to ask what time she was planning on being in Charlotte, and if she was planning on bringing the dog.

"...would you hate me if I stay up here?"

"No. But I'd miss you."

And once again, I'll be explaining why my wife is dipping out on doing stuff with my family. And to my grandmother that she won't be seeing her again, like the last two weekends I'd been in town. And seriously wondering if she'll be seeing my grandmother again before she passes. At this point, I don't know.

Friday my brothers went and played golf with my uncles, while I got stuff done around the new house, hauled more stuff from the old house, and caught up with my parents. I'd forgotten how much I'd missed weekend mornings and conversations over coffee. That night, I took all my siblings, and several old friends, out to play laser tag, and all parties involved definitely had a blast. Back when I was in high school, that had been one of our go-to activities, and the venue we'd gone to had closed down many, many years ago. Imagine my surprise when I saw signs for a new Laser Quest going into a shopping center right around the corner from where we'd grown up. I honestly wonder if K would have partaken with us if she'd been in town, and if she'd have had fun if she had. I feel like once upon a time she would have enjoyed it, but nowadays, I just don't know any more.
tspencer227: (Karma)
"You seem to spend a lot of time reliving your glory days instead of facing the fact that you're not 24 years old any more."

I bit my tongue, nodding, and told her, "yes, you're probably right."

I resisted the urge to say what I was really thinking:
"because we don't do much adventuring or anything fun now. Or if I'm doing it, it's because you don't feel like going out, and then I feel guilty about having fun without you."

This was last night. The husband of one of the minister at our church is a drummer in a local band, and he'd invited us to this show, opening for one of the better known local bands, several months ago. As a bonus, his wife had a babysitter for the night for their year old son and would be able to join us. I'd reminded Katie about this via text while we were at work yesterday, and wasn't honestly very surprised when she replied back a bit later in the day that she wasn't feeling like going out, but apologized.

History repeats itself. In all fairness though, she was planning on leaving early for a conference she's due to attend for several days in Myrtle Beach. Still, I'm getting more and more used to coming up with excuses for why I'm appearing solo when I go to meet with my friends.

The show was great- my friend's band, only playing their third show together, were very good, and the main band was amazing. It was about 2/3 of the way through the headliner's set that I spotted her.

I wasn't even really looking around to see if she was there, though I should have suspected she might be. I'd found out earlier that the guitarist for the headlining band was also the guitarist for her band- the music scene in the Raleigh area is really a small, tightly-knit community- and I'd already seen the violinist from her band.

As for "her," I'll call her "K" for now. That all started maybe four years ago, not long after I'd moved to Raleigh and started at State. She'd found me on my old OKCupid account and there had been a bit of flirting back and forth. Nothing happened for a few months, because let's face it, musicians can be flakes. Especially young ones who are just out of college and still finding their place in the world. Still, I was intrigued, and hoped that our paths would eventually cross.

It was a graduation party after friends of mine finished their Master's program at State, and we ended up at one of the better known hipster dance clubs in downtown. It took me a while to put two and two together, but there she was at the bar- tall, gorgeous, and apparently holding court with other local artsy hipster types- some of whom I recognized, one of whom I'd dated briefly- and definitely standing out to the point that everybody in the group I was with commented on her presence. And as a fellow alpha who tends to hold crowds, I was mesmerized. Eye contact was made, shy smiles were exchanged, but as I was still sort of seeing another musician at the time, nothing else happened.

Fast forward to January of last year. My youngest brother Chris was in town for a few days to hang out over his winter break, and a coworker's wife is the lead singer of a band here in the area. I was familiar with them, and already knew that K was in this one- her name had been blowing up in local projects all over the area for close to a year at this point- but I wasn't expecting any interaction, instead, after her set, here she comes towards me. Thankfully, I was by myself on the way to the bar as she said hello, introduced herself, and asked how I enjoyed the set. We chatted for a few minutes, then hew brow crinkled up.

"You look really, really familiar from somewhere. Have we ever...?"

Her voice rose in a playful tone. I stammered something in reply about being at shows for her previous band, deciding to spare the awkward conversation that could result from saying something like,

"oh yeah, we totally matched at around 94% on OKCupid about 3 and a half years ago."

Better part of valor and all that. Besides, I'd seen her boyfriend (at least that was my assumption) come up behind her while we were talking. Still, during the following band's set, she turned around to look back at me several times, always with a smile.


The next time we crossed paths was the entry I wrote about back in August, going to see Nora Jane Struthers with a friend and being the only one there without somebody to dance with. No more needs to be said about that, though.


And then last night. I caught sight of K about 2/3 of the way through the headliner's set, and a few minutes later she started walking towards my direction, heading back towards the bar. She got close- inside personal space close even- as she passed. Eye contact was made. Shy smiles were exchanged. *something* started to happen- I'm not sure exactly what still, but at that point my pulse was pounding in my ears and my chest. Then she suddenly drew back, and was past me. I hadn't even realized I'd been holding my breath as I exhaled deeply.

I'm still more than a little confused by the whole exchange, and by how to feel about it.

So, here I am now, and not sure of what to make of it.

In the past, I had a large circle of friends eager to go out and do things, take in shows, take weekend trips, and otherwise seek adventure at the drop of a hat.

In the present, I'm unfulfilled on a physical level pretty much constantly, most of my friends have drawn back (either because my wife flat out doesn't like them or doesn't want to get to know them better, or because I've flaked on them too many times making excuses for why we (she) can't go out), and when I do go out and do things, I feel guilty having fun without her- and I'm constantly reminded that there are couples out there who go out, do things, and have fun together- on a regular basis.

What does the future hold? I can't say yet. A lot of our engagement I found myself repeating in my head, "it'll get better after school is done/ the house is done/ she gets a new job/ I get a job." I'm still waiting for it to consistently be better. The question is, how long can I wait? A year? Two? Five?

On a somewhat related note, every night for at least the last week, my dreams have been haunted by pretty much the same tall, athletic dark haired mystery woman. Who she is, I have no clue. I just pray I'm not talking out loud in my sleep.
tspencer227: (Karma)
So we've been working out together, as a couple, with a trainer for the last few weeks, and though I'm only barely starting to see any noticeable gains, I've definitely been feeling a lot of differences, and my body's starting to react again in ways it used to on a regular basis. I've had a much higher energy level, much less joint pain, and of course, a much, MUCH higher sex drive (if that's possible).

Katie, on the other hand, seems to be having the exactly opposite reaction- usually, she's wanting to grab something fast and easy to eat on the way home, then immediately crash in bed for the rest of the night. Obviously, this isn't helping with the issues I've previously complained about in our relationship.

A big part of it that bothers me is how concerned she gets when I push myself in the least little bit. I did something to my back over the weekend, to the point that I had to leave work early on Monday to make an emergency trip to the chiropractor. That seems to have straightened out most of the issues I was having, and stretching and jogging on Tuesday before lifting was also helping everything feel better. And then Katie got to the gym and yelled at me for wanting to jog at a fairly slow pace before we started the workout. Now, I can understand

Also, how does one tell their spouse, in as subtle and delicate way as possible, "honey, no matter how much you're working out, the reason you're still gaining weight is because you eat terrible, terrible things at odd times that your body doesn't like, and drink enough soft drinks to give an elephant a sugar rush"? Because I'm fairly certain that if I was to straight up say that, it would have the direct opposite effect. However, I seriously think that her diet habits are having a rather large negative effect on a lot of levels. Growing up, there were always fresh fruits and vegetables in the house, the majority of meals were home-cooked, soft drinks were a luxury only available on special occasions (to this day, I only very, very rarely crack open anything carbonated that's not beer), lunches were packed to take to school or work, and fast food was reserved for those emergencies when nothing else was available, or long road trips when we didn't want to stop for a sit-down dinner, or hadn't packed anything in preparation.

Nowadays, it's pretty much the exact opposite. I'll hit up the farmer's market at least twice a month and get whatever produce is in season, but the vast majority of the time, if I'm not eating it, it's not getting eaten. It's frustrating, because I'm a very, very good cook, and cook lots of very, very healthy things, but again, if I'm not eating them, nobody else is. Meanwhile, the fridge quickly fills up with takeout food containers, fast food boxes, and little things here and there that are also very unlikely to get finished once they're relegated to the fridge.
tspencer227: (Karma)
Seven weeks since we last had sex, and counting.
Six weeks since she last kissed me, or initiated any kind of physical
contact.
Eleven weeks since the wedding.
We had sex on the night of the wedding, in our suite. Once, on the
honeymoon- the first full night in Reykjavik. And once when we got home
from Iceland.

And that's been it.

As I've mentioned in a previous post, Katie's been carrying a lot of
anxiety about a lot of things, and also not feeling attractive. It's been
an ongoing series of cycles where that manifests itself in her pushing me
away, physically, and emotionally. Pretty much completely. That's the point
where we start instead of being a couple, it's more of a feeling of being
housemates who often sleep in the same bed, but without touching. And that
phase of the cycle takes several days, or weeks, to very slowly and
gradually move out of, depending on how she's feeling about me, herself,
and us in general. It's gotten to the point where I've pretty much given up
trying to initiate any kind of physical contact, flirting, or showing
affection.

And it's killing me.

Seriously, that part hurts more than the lack of sex. I'm a naturally
affectionate person, as is pretty much all of my family, and the example
that I always saw of marriage when I was growing up were the obvious
displays of affection my parents shared (and still share) on a regular
basis. That's honestly how I've always pictured married life would be for
me too, and to that end, every single relationship I've been in before this
one has involved a lot of affection, on my part and also that of whoever I
was with.

I was at a concert last night- the wife of one of the engineers I work with
is the lead singer of a local band called New Reveille. Once upon a time,
shortly after I first moved back there was a very, very near miss situation
involving a girl who is now their cellist (but that's a story for another
time). They opened for Nora Jane Struthers and Party Line, whom I'd heard
of, but never seen in concert. As it was at the back room at Cat's Cradle,
I already knew it was going to be a very, very small show, and knowing
Katie's interests in bands, was seriously hoping she'd want to go, but not
so much.

There were maybe two dozen people in the audience total, about what I was
guessing, and it would've been perfect for her to be able to enjoy, without
being surrounded by large crowds. The vast majority of the audience were
also couples, which made going with a single former classmate of mine a
little bit more odd- especially when Nora Jane did an amazingly sweet
Everly Brothers duet with her fiance (who also happens to be the banjo/
violin/ slide guitar player for her band), and the love and adoration they
shared was absolutely magical. It got much more awkward when, on the next
song, she gave everybody a quick primer on how to do the Tennessee Two
Step, and declared that everybody should find a partner to dance with. Nick
and I quietly faded into the walls for that one, and I couldn't help but
enjoy watching every single couple in the place as they danced. And feel a
little bit lonely, and wistful- it's been a long, long time since I've been
with somebody who would dance without either lots of alcohol, or lots of
coaxing and begging.

I spend a lot of time in my own head, which is part of the reason why I've
resurrected this Livejournal. Situations like this are very, very bad for
people with my personality type- at the very least, we start pondering on
and obsessing about all the things we must be doing wrong, what we should
be doing differently, and thinking of every little mistake, misspoken word,
or even slightly inconsiderate act, and how that could be affecting things.

At the very worst, we start wondering if we've made some sort of terrible
mistake, or if the universe has decreed that we have some sort of penance
to pay, and then start trying to pinpoint exactly when things went wrong,
and once again, what we did and should be doing differently.

I swing between both those extremes, as well as the full spectrum in
between, at least weekly. The worst part of that, again with my personality
type, is not being able to talk to anybody about it. So instead it gets
bottled up, and I continue to keep a smile on my face and talk about how
married life is going just dandy fine and wonderfully full of house
remodeling projects and fun.

That last part, in turn, is having a serious impact on my relationships
with friends, family, and my usual social circle. I really, really hate
lying about that, hate constantly going out with my friends (most of whom
haven't seen Katie in months at least, if they've even met her) without
her, and doing fun things while she stays home. I'm especially guarded now
in situations where alcohol, the opposite sex, or both are involved. I'm
terrified that I'll slip up if I'm not extremely careful, extra guarded,
and constantly checking up on myself. And. It's. Exhausting. I've skipped
out on many, many outings, social functions, and chances to socialize
because of the above, and I hate it.

I miss flirting. I miss the furtive glances back and forth that only the
two of you share, the work to catch a girl's eye from across a crowded
room, the excitement, anticipation, and rush of initiating and engaging in
a witty banter or repartee with a skilled opposite. I miss the feeling of
the accidental and not- so- accidental brushes of hands and bodies against
each other, the feel of a woman's waist nestled in the crook of my arm. I
miss the sound of her breath catching in her throat the first time I brush
my lips against hers. Watching her eyelids flutter as she surrenders
herself to that kiss. The inevitable escalation as temptation, hormones and
inhibitions duel. The contact, the intensity, the passion, the building
anticipation, the high, the afterglow. I miss waking up, satisfied and
excited, my body pressed up against warmth and curves. Sharing a sleeping
greeting kiss, each daring the other to reenact the previous night. The
promise and anticipation of identical future kisses shared in that moment.

And I hate most of all that I can't dare tell Katie about any of this,
because the last thing she needs is to put more pressure on herself than
she already does. She knows I'm not happy with our current situation, but I
don't think she could handle knowing the full extent.
tspencer227: (Karma)
"I just don't really want to be around you right now. I WANT TO want to be around you, and I don't know why I can't, but I just can't handle being around you. You should probably go with somebody else."

For the weekend, we had planned a trip to Carowinds, the amusement park just south of my hometown of Charlotte. For reasons I still don't fully understand, my wife despises my hometown with a passion, and will avoid going there any time I'm interested in going home. As a result, I haven't been home nearly as often as I would have liked, and I've spent hardly any time whatsoever visiting family and friends in my hometown. I was hoping this weekend would have been a chance for the two of us to catch up with some friends of mine at home, visit Carowinds, ride all the roller coasters, and catch up with my family- something I've been wanting for the two of us to be able to do for a very long time.

In the back of my mind, I was wondering if we'd be able to swing that or not.

And this is why it's Saturday evening, we're still in Raleigh, and I'm hopefully picking up my sister tomorrow morning to spend the entire day at the park.
tspencer227: (Karma)
lj-mood: meh

Raise your hand if you didn't have sex on your birthday.

Keep it up if this is the second year in a row.

Keep it up if this is the third year in a row.

Now, keep it up if you've been in the same relationship for all three of
those birthdays.

Nobody else? Just me then, I guess.

Aside from the lack of any sort of physical contact that is the typical
norm for our relationship, it was a fairly good birthday. My friends at the
office took me out for lunch, which is always fun, and despite their best
efforts, were trying to get me drinking. If we weren't all swamped with
work...

Katie bought me several workout-related things that she knew I'd been
needing, and seriously wanting. A big part of me is hoping that this new
push to get back into shape that we're both embarking on will help provide
some spark in the physical part of the relationship. I'm shooting for being
back at fighting weight by the time my 35th birthday rolls around, and I
think that's doable. Hopefully Katie working out and training with me will
help her feel more secure and comfortable with her own body (since I know
that at least part of the reason why she won't let me touch her is because
she's not comfortable with how she looks- though that doesn't matter to
me). Hopefully it'll also help address some of the issues I know she's been
having with having very little energy, and the constant headaches and
migraines. I know that hasn't done our relationship any favors, and no
matter how many times I ask, plead, and gently prod, she still hasn't gone
to see her doctor about this.

As for the dream I was having the other night before I woke up, as is
always the case, the more you try to hold on to the details, the more seem
to slip out the other side of memory.

This took place in the past- maybe 11, 12 years ago- that much I'm certain
about based on who was there with me- some of my old Navy buddies from the
Reagan whom I haven't seen in almost a decade now. We were at a music
festival- not Coachella, there was too many trees and wildlife. I don't
remember who was playing, but there were several bands there I was excited
to see, as were my old Navy friends who also had excellent taste in music.
Shame, because I'm really curious to place where/ when this was, as well as
what brought it up.

As for "her:" I honestly don't remember how or where I knew her from, just
that we were at least familiar as aquaintances, and were sleeping in the
same cabin as other friends of mine, in bunk beds.

I don't remember a name, but I remember details. The long, fiery red hair.
The hazel eyes. The freckled, heart-shaped face. The long, muscular legs
supporting a lean, athletic frame.

In other words, pretty much every single one of the traits I find most
desirable combined into one package. Ain't the brain a funny thing?

The other part I remember, as usual, is the emotions. Excitement.
Anticipation. The thrill of obviously being desired. The rush of trading
verbal jabs in the beginning phases of flirtation. Emotions I haven't felt
in a very, very long time, even before we were married. Once upon a time
these feelings were all commonplace in our relationship, but I can scarcely
remember when that was.
tspencer227: (Karma)
She squeezed my hand tighter as she slowed her pace, forcing me to stop
walking to turn and look at her. Her hazel eyes burned with an intense
energy from her freckled, sun-kissed face, framed by her long, fiery red
hair.

"I sing, I dance, and I'm a perfect lover," she deadpanned as she looked at
me expectantly.

I could feel my pulse rising as we each took half a step closer to each
other, her long, athletic legs putting her eyes almost perfectly level with
mine. She leaned in towards me, and her eyes started to close as her hand
squeezed mine tighter again-

My eyes snapped open as I suddenly found myself fully awake, and my pulse
still racing from the dream. I lay in the quiet dark of the bedroom, unsure
if I wanted to try and fall back asleep, or if I would feel more guilty if
I did. Behind me, my wife was still quietly asleep, wrapped up in her
blankets as usual, and also as usual, as far away from me on the bed as she
could get. I looked over at her, sighed, and got up to start getting ready
for my day. On the floor on her side of the bed, the dog snored to herself,
blissfully oblivious to the world around her. After showering, dressing,
and packing my gym bag, I leaned over to give my wife a quiet kiss on the
forehead. She didn't respond, no doubt still deeply asleep.

Driving into work this morning, my mind kept rewinding to the dream. It's
not the first time I've had a dream like this, even less uncommon in the
last few months, but this was by far the most vivid one so far. The
emotions had stayed with me, even after being awake for the past couple of
hours, and I knew it wasn't something I'd be able to forget readily.
Especially the most powerful one.

Desire. As in, remembering the feeling of being physically wanted and
desired. It's been a rare sensation for me for a while now.

Two months we've been "married", seven weeks, to be exact, and just over 9
months since we eloped to the Virginia mountains over my fall break, a
semi-impromptu trip that was mostly a product of her guilty conscience of
our "living in sin," since I'd moved in the previous July.

In that time, I can count on one hand since the May wedding, two since the
October wedding, the times that we've been intimate. Granted, there a lot
of factors contributing to this- my wife has been dealing with a lot of
health issues the last few months- anxiety, debilitating headaches and
migraines that send her to bed pretty much as soon as she gets from work,
and a lot of exhausting days that also send her to bed as soon as she walks
in the door from work. And while I've always been good at being empathetic
and patient, it doesn't make it any less difficult for me. I'm not one
who's used to hiding my feelings, or one who's used to not having affection
reciprocated, or my attempts at intimacy, or even closeness, rejected on a
regular basis. As this journal has often bore witness to over the years,
I'm a passionate, physical, affectionate creature, even to a fault more
times than I would admit to most people. And while I've always expected
deep down that I'd someday get married, I never figured I'd be in one of
"those marriages" that would be so devoid of affection, physical
connection, or physical expressions of love- just seeing the relationship
my parents had when I was growing up, and still have today, was the model
for what I'd always looked for, and found, in my previous relationships.

What makes this relationship so different? That's the question now. Will it
change? That's one of many, many other questions. My wife has so far been
resistant to talk to anybody about any of the issues we have as a couple,
and in an effort to respect her privacy, and that of our relationship, I
really don't have anybody to talk to about this.

For anybody who knows me or who has read some of the posts in this journal
(if anybody's even still around to listen), that should be a clue as to how
lonely, alone, and isolated I feel about all of this. And it's why, after
almost four years since my last post in here, and many more years before
that since I've actively posted on a regular basis, I'm bringing this back
into being.

Almost 14 years ago, I started this Livejournal to keep myself sane, to
have somewhere to document my feelings and emotions when I had nobody else
to speak to. Once again, that's my dilemma. And hopefully once again, this
journal will give me a place to keep from having to bottle up all the
feelings and emotions bubbling just under the surface. To keep me sane.
tspencer227: (Karma)
...Because I feel like I've come back from the dead. The last year and a half (shit, the last two or three years) have been more challenging than a lot of the rest of my life, but like a phoenix, I feel like I've emerged from the flames, reborn.

Daddy's back. :)

Seriously, the last month or so have been truly pivotal for me. After the hellish week that was finals, life has started to return to a somewhat normal pace. I started running again the week after Christmas, I've started eating healthier again, and I've been rediscovering exactly what it means to have a social life. After this past semester, I'd almost forgotten. I feel awesome, I know I look awesome, and most importantly, I know that it's showing.

The dating front has been another interesting series of stories as well. I'm not sure if it's a case of women making New Year's resolutions to dump their douchebag boyfriends, or if it's just that 2011 is truly supposed to be my year, but even that part has started to pick up. New Year's Eve was awesome- Team Two Thousand Ted ended up going out to Blue Foot in Northpark, and even though I didn't end up having anybody to kiss at midnight (which is probably a good thing, all things considered), it was still a great night. 

I've been getting much more traffic on my OKCupid profile that last couple of weeks or so, and it's been fun having women actually respond and <gasp> actually want to go out with me.

There are stories to tell, but they'll have to wait a little bit. ;)
tspencer227: (Default)
So Monday, October 18th, 2010 marked what would have been my one year wedding anniversary. For the most part, it was a pretty typical day- classes, studying for midterms, homework. In a frustrating parallel of last year, when my faithful old Prelude decided to throw her timing belt and trash her engine on what would have been my wedding day, the S decided to develop a flat right-rear tire- probably due to the alignment being thrown off from the shitty road quality here in San Diego. I was lucky enough to have a classmate give me a ride into school, and I took the trolley and bus home after class in the evening. Another interesting parallel- and this time, I didn't flinch or feel any rush of emotions as I rode past the County Admin building (where we'd purchased the marriage license) or saw the condo in Little Italy.

Am I better? I've asked myself this a lot over the past couple of weeks. I think I'm still getting there, and I'm sure it's continuing to be an ongoing process. As for the future, I'm not really in any hurry to find a serious relationship any time soon. While I WOULD like to find a playmate for the last few months I'm here, I don't know how healthy that could be for me. As I was describing to a friend of mine yesterday, I feel like a fox that got caught in a trap but managed to escape- the wounds are still there, and I know it's making me more wary, a bit more jaded, and much less likely to trust again so easily. Not necessarily bad things by any means, but things to remember and take into account regardless.

The biggest test of how I'm doing is yet to come. A classmate of mine invited me to go see Dead Man's Party when they play here Halloween weekend, and I know for a fact that The Ex is going to be there with her new boyfriend. I don't anticipate any problems, and we're not planning on trying and talking to each other or anything, but it's still going to be unusual. I always suspected this kind of situation would eventually arise, after all.

Justice...

Oct. 5th, 2010 12:27 am
tspencer227: (Default)
I can't really talk about it now, but hopefully it will be served sooner than later. It's looking like that will be the case. In the meantime, why do unpleasant memories seem to rear their ugly heads at the worst possible times?
tspencer227: (Default)
So no new dates to speak of since the last rant entry that I posted a couple of weeks ago, and to be frank, I haven't really had a lot of new contacts. Sure, I've sent out  more emails, and had a couple of short, superficial conversations, but I'm just not feeling it. In addition, I've noticed something else that I'm pretty sure is the biggest indication that the summer of 2010 is really over.

The quality of the girls on POF and OKC has dropped dramatically over the last three weeks or so. After talking with my friend [livejournal.com profile] bkmichele , it appears that it's just not the girls either. Which leads me to the conclusion that all the good ones found playmates, significant others etc over the summer, and what we're being left with are the remainders that don't quite have as much to offer. Or have kids. Not that I have anything against single mothers- it's just really not what I'm looking for. 

Hopefully school proves to be more fertile grounds this semester...
tspencer227: (Default)
I saw this link earlier today, and had to share it- way too good to pass up. So since my dry spell has officially passed the six month mark with no apparent end in sight, I'm thinking maybe I need to start looking for these kinds of tattoos on girls in PB?

Wow, just wow.
tspencer227: (Default)
There's a saying that I became intimately familiar with shortly after I joined the Navy and got settled in Charleston, just over ten years ago:

"Nice guys don't get laid."

This is, of course, the corollary to the popular statement:

"Nice guys finish last."

Basically, being considerate, courteous, and compassionate are seen as weaknesses in the dog eat dog that is modern day society. I remember reading once that it goes back to evolution- girls want the guys who are inherently evil to sire their offspring, as passing on those genetic traits are advantageous in the modern world. I've seen it happen more times than I can count- I'll start talking to a girl, and she'll seem interested, but it'll quickly fade, and she'll move on to the pushy guy shooting his mouth off at anybody around him. There's another analogy I once read that seems to put things in perspective perfectly:

"This is roughly the equivalent for the guy of going to a job interview and the company saying, You have a great resume, you have all the qualifications we are looking for, but we're not going to hire you. We will, however, use your resume as the basis for comparison for all other applicants. But, we're going to hire somebody who is far less qualified and is probably an alcoholic. And if he doesn't work out, we'll hire somebody else, but still not you. In fact, we will never hire you. But we will call you from time to time to complain about the person that we hired."

The point of the above is to back up the claim that nice guys really don't get laid.

Except for One Exception.... )
tspencer227: (Default)
My good friend [livejournal.com profile] bkmichele has to stay at work all weekend as the on-duty manager or something like that, so I dropped in to have dinner with her last night at the hotel's restaurant. Hey, I'm never too good to pass up free food, and I still had to bring her up to date on the adventures in North Carolina (to be chronicled in the other blog), and my newest dating mishaps (to be chronicled...somewhere).

For the time being, we're both doing the OKCupid thing, since from our combined observation there seems to be a disturbing lack of worthwhile single people in our respective work/ life circles; Michele works with a bunch of older married guys in the hotel industry, and I'm going to school with a bunch of virginal 20 year olds and mid 20-somethings in long-term relationships. Not exactly the best place for either of us to meet people, and the folks typically encountered a the bar scenes in either one of our neighborhoods are about as appetizing as a peanut butter and Brussels Sprout sandwich.

I've also been doing the Plentyoffish thing (discovered that thanks to Amy several years ago, and encouraged by my friend Kat), and have been having pretty much the same results both places:

I'll message women that seem to be saying they're looking for exactly everything I have to offer, and who should typically find me interesting or intriguing, and while I'll get a glance or two at my profile, I won't get any responses. Or, the only girls that will initiate contact with me are the same kind that would typically come up and grab my ass at a bar out here- trashy, disgusting, and usually with a couple of kids already. Notice that I said "out here." Yes, I did notice a difference back east last week. Chalk another one up to why Southern California blows.

OK, I know I'm not the slimmest guy in San Diego (although I'm working hard at getting back to pornstar body status), and I realize that everybody in Southern California is obsessed with physical appearance, income level, etc but damn. Granted, I also wish there was a class available, like an "Online Dating for Dummies" type thing, because this shit is hard. I can ask five different girls that I'm friends with for advice on how to make my profile more likely to get hits, which pictures to upload, and what to say in first messages sent out, and I'll get five different opinions. But of course, isn't that how it works with women in general anyway?

So getting back to my original point- are girls in California really that deluded to think they're going to find some gorgeous multimillionaire artist/ architect/ self-employed guru that's 7' tall, deadlifts 300 pounds, and is going to whisk them all over the world at the drop of a hat? Maybe. But then I went and found the following study, and interview, that I think helps explain at least part of the reason why I've been having virtually no success with this whole online dating experiment.

The ugly truth

In addition, I also found this interview that one of the site's founders did with NPR last year. And yes, I thought the date of the interview was hilariously coincidental as well.

Why I'm screwed

So they pretty much speak for themselves, but I'll do the cliffnotes because I know some folks won't bother reading the full articles: basically as a guy, if you're not white, you're not going to get many responses, or messages from folks, unless you're sending messages to black females. And apparently white people are the least likely to want to date outside of their race.
tspencer227: (Default)
Is looking like it's going to be fairly soon. Details forthcoming soon, but there's a lot going on. I need to get back to the family, to the friends that I've known my whole life, to fireflies buzzing around at dusk as the summertime humidity starts to become tolerable.

It's time for me to go home.

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