Woody's Single Life..

Good Monday all! I have had one helluva day. Besides the fact that I just found out I have to pay thousands of dollars to fix my car, I owe even more money in taxes and I just spent hundreds on boots (prior to knowledge of money owed); my work phone has been ringing off the the hook with wedding room inquiries.  For those of you that don't know, I'm a sales manager (amongst other things) at a popular hotel chain. And I went to the Charleston Wedding Show a couple of Sundays ago to represent our management company. It was kind of fun actually. The gal who came with me (another sales manager within our company) is a pretty cool chick.  And one of our Regional Managers was there too, but he's good people. Moving on...we had a kick ass display, we were meeting tons of bride and momzillas to be, and killing it! All of a sudden, I scan the crowd and see one of my exes walking in the crowd in the general vacinity towards our booth. He was with a girl who I can safely assume was hi

So I found a decent guy on this crazy dating site. Cute. TALL! Witty. He does unfortunately live about an hour and a half away (of course) but not an alien. We've been texting back and forth and I was feeling giddy for the first time in a while. I will go as far as to say I was/am crushing on this dude a bit. Very surprising seeing as the other guys I've come in contact through this site are either vertically challenged, have strange fetishes or are just fucking nuts. Anyway, I had to figure out a way to inevitably fuck it up right? Don't worry. I'm really good at this part. So last night I went to my step-grandmother's birthday party at the old folks home. The only way I was getting through that shmooze fest was to consume copious amounts of vino. Which I did. Upon my return back to my house, I started texting my new crush. We texted about our family, Stephen Colbert, you know...the usual. Then my evil twin (who hates me) came out and started texting. Whaaat a

Well...I left my computer at work, so blogging from a phone has its challenges. Here goes...so several months back I met my first online dude in person. He was in the air force. Thank you army, military, combat people...you're awesome! Just never wanted to date you. Nor have I ever been particularly attracted to you...just sayin. Anyway so he invites me for a drink at the Charleston Place bar. Swanky...not really my style. I don't really know why I went...biological clock maybe? Jesus is that thing fucked up and completely inaccurate! Anyway, one of the first things he asks me is, "Do you own a ball gown?" Hmmm...is this serious? What am I? Fuckin Cinderella? Yea champ...I got one in my purse and it poofs out when you put it in hot water ...wow. Anyway, long story short, homeboy wanted me to go to a military ball and all the other girls he asked...yes you saw correctly...ALL THE OTHER GIRLS HE ASKED...didn't have one. Well this date was really going places.

So...I somewhat recently went out on a date with the kind of guy I like to call the "know it all." Or in other words, "good luck getting a word in edge wise" dude. Met him on the oh so reputable free dating site, "OK Cupid." Seemed like a good guy (don't they all from the confines of a computer screen). His profile mentioned his love of math which was only a slight red flag...aren't all guys good at math? Whatever. Anyway, all of his pictures showed him playing rugby and oh so seemingly manly. So imagine my surprise when I show up to my neighborhood pizza joint to meet papa Smurf?? I'm not picky on looks...I'm really not. But I've got one stipulation I like to stand by...and I would like it to be 6ft +. I mean, I'm 6'2 in 3/4 of the shoes I own. But honestly...was totally willing to look past that obvious breech in profile honesty. That was...until he began his endless moaning about how he was 20 times smarter than all of t

Yes. I am 100% aware of why I'm single. I hate rules. It's as simple as those 3 words. All of these rules exist that ladies should wait for the guy to contact them, or to make the first move... If I want to talk to a guy, I reserve the right to text him witty one liners while mildly intoxicated until he texts back. Or to leave a voice mail with random chatter about a conversation I completely contrived in order for him to hear until he calls back to tell me I "butt dialled" him and left the funniest message. Or to ask a guy for his number...so that he will undoubtedly be "butt dialled" or drunk texted. We are supposed to be a mystery. I get it. I get it because these same mysterious qualities are what make a guy intriguing to me too. And the guys that say "I'm sick of games" and lay it all out there, immediately turn me off. We all just like the chase. And if you're easy prey...siyenara! I'm bored...round 2. So why...when I know al