American (Dating) Horror Stories

Bonnie at Life of Bon lives in Utah and is happily married (and expecting a baby!). But it wasn’t always like that. She had quite a few dating horror stories before she met the one. 

Well, guys, my whole dating career has been a damn Greek tragedy. I look back at it and think, “well, no good can come of this.” 


The last time I talked about my dating history it really turned out to be more of a list of the things I don’t want about a guy. But, for the sake of Bonnie’s link up, I’ve decided to narrow things down to the worst of the worst. This list is in no particular order. I’ll let y’all decide which one was the worst.


*Names have been changed to protect the innocent. And because, if you’re reading this…you know who you are.

The long-distance cheater: I totally loved this dude. Head over heels in love. I’d get in my car and drive 5 hours for him if he wanted me to (which I did. A lot. Like, every other weekend). I was completely sure that we were gonna get married and live happily ever after. Until I found out that he was spending the weekends with me and, um, discovering new prairies Monday-Friday. And everyone knew but me. Including family. Not awkward at all.

ouch.

The Age Out: I started dating this guy at 17 and he was 24. By accident. Dated until I was 19…and suddenly he was completely over me. And completely into a 17 year old girl. A year later, he was over her and into a different 17 year old girl. Y’all see where I’m going here.

The guy who was engaged (not to me): Started seeing a guy from my hometown and I was really digging him. Things were new but going well. I made plans to go home and visit him and we were both very excited about it…except when I got there, he made all kinds of excuses not to see me (what the eff?). I went out for drinks with some friends when they dropped the bomb, “Oh, you know [Insert Douchebag’s Name Here] met his fiancee through crossfit.” 
I’m sorry, what?
I found out he not only had a fiancee but also a child on the way. 
That revelation effectively ended any relationship I had with him, but I did jump right into a relationship with a lot of vodka that night.


Guy who was engaged (to me): Y’all remember that one time I was engaged? Me, too. That’s all I have to say about that.

Proof. Engaged once.

The little big man: Guy seemed to be nice enough. We knew each other in passing and he was cool. He was just barely taller than me, but into fitness and all that good stuff. We were hanging out pretty often at his request for awhile. I genuinely liked hanging out–and then one day he stopped calling for about 2 weeks. Me, being me, didn’t care. I just thought he wasn’t into me and let it go. He called near tears apologizing for being distant and begging me to forgive him, he claimed he was just “intimidated by the fact that I’ve been in serious relationships before” and that “he’s never been with a girl who’s as independent” as I am. Uh, okay? We went on one more date and that was it. He goes ghost again. 
About 3 months later, I got a text from him asking to hook up. 
Ha. No thanks, bro. It wasn’t all that to begin with. 


The guy who cried all the time: This was A date. Singular. One. Everything I said/did brought this guy to the brink of tears and occasionally sent him over the edge. Talk about bizarre. He brought up wildly controversial topics over dinner (you know, the ones they tell you that you shouldn’t discuss with people) and when I would respond with something like, “well, I don’t have an opinion on that because it doesn’t apply to me,” he would get inordinately upset and say things like “I can’t believe you’re so cold that you don’t care about others!” 
Whoa, bro. Dramatic much?


The “he loves me, he loves me not” guy: I could never tell with this guy. Some days, he loved me and wanted nothing more than to be with me. Other days, I didn’t exist at all. Spending even 10 seconds trying to figure out what dude wanted was a colossal waste of time. I don’t have even a second for your bipolar, yo.


The guy who told me to stop crossfitting: I was early in my CrossFit career when I developed my first callouses and I was damn proud of them (still am). I was on a first date with a guy who was trying to caress my hands across the table as we waited for our food when he felt my new callouses. 
He asked how I got them and I (very excitedly) said, “they’re new, I’ve been doing a lot of pullups and lifting.” 
He replied, “Oh, you have to stop that. It’s not very feminine.”
To which I got up, threw a $20 on the table for our bill and left. Douche.

they’re not even that bad!

Dating Disaster Level: Epic



One, Five, Ten

“Where do you see yourself in a year? Five years? Ten years?”

Recently, Bonnie over at The Life of Bon asked this question to her high school English classes. 

After thinking about it, you know what?I am not in any of the places I thought I would be when I was graduating high school. I don’t even know if I considered back then growing up to be the person I actually am.

Dance Team Banquet. Seniors. Front row, third from right. 

Senior prom. Yes, my flip phone is rhinestoned.

New York Dance Team trip. 

Senior Night with Brittany

One year
What I thought: I thought I’d be pre-med at LSU, loving it. Definitely getting straight A’s and loving going to the best party school in the country. I was going to have a ton of friends and probably a super hot boyfriend. And I was going to make the dean’s list for sure. I was also going to be super skinny and drinking allllll that beer was definitely NOT going to make me gain weight. Oh, and I was going to run a marathon. I think I actually wrote that down somewhere. Silly me.

I don’t know what was going on or why I’m not wearing shoes.

Before the weight gain happened…but you see what’s in my hand, right? It’s coming.

One year
Where I was: I did go to LSU and I did declare pre-med as my major…and hated every second of it. Making friends wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be and it felt like everything constantly reminded me that I wasn’t in Texas anymore. Thankfully, my next door neighbor and eventual roommate, Emily, helped me navigate the friends thing. There were a lot of all nighters where I called Mama Nancy crying, begging to come home. I also wanted to transfer to University of Texas-San Antonio because that’s where all my friends from high school went. I definitely missed out on the magic, “drink me and you won’t gain weight” beer because I drank the regular shit and gained a ton. And I didn’t run. Not one time, not one mile.

Know what this looks like? Bad decisions.

We may or may not have decided to jump on stage. At a bar. In the middle of someone’s musical performance.

Holly, Emily, Kelsey, Me, Tissy, Higgs, Blaum

When I still had little boobs.

Five years
What I thought: I would have totally graduated college and I’d have a super great job-to-career doing something I really loved for a lot of money. I’d probably be married already and working on starting a family. I’d be living back in Texas to be close to my parents. Obviously.

Crowning my successor.

Krissy Bug. Best friends for life.

Graduate. Finally.

5 yearsWhere I was: I was just graduating college with concentrations in 3 different, completely unrelated things. I was engaged to be married and working in property management managing apartments. I didn’t really have any idea what I wanted to do: did I want to continue in this career? Did I want to try something else? I had a brief flirtation with the idea of going to law school and took the LSAT. I did well, but I decided I didn’t hate myself enough to actually go to law school. Something told me to be a teacher, so I got my certification and started my teaching career at Istrouma High School (one of the best experiences of my life). I also realized how much weight I had gained and started trying to do something about it. 

10 yearsWhat I thought: I thought that by 28, I’d have shit together. I’d be way involved in my marriage. I’d have a kid or two. Or twelve. I’d own a house with a dog. I’d be a hospital’s chief of surgery by now (because everyone becomes a chief of surgery in like, 3 years, right?) and I’d volunteer on the weekends. I’d hang out with my mama and be busing my kids back and forth to whatever practice/birthday party/whatever.

8 years
Where I am: I haven’t made it to my 10 year yet (uh, 2 years away. WHAT?) but so far…I’m not all that close to what I thought. At all. I’m finishing my masters program in Kinesiology. The closest thing I have to a kid is Axl, who is the best kid EVER. I’m still teaching AND still working in property management and I’m working toward becoming a Marine Officer. I have good friends, I pay all my own bills, I have a great relationship with my parents and my tolerance for bullshit is pretty low. I like playing with other people’s kids and I hate laundry. Most days being a grown up sucks, but it’s pretty satisfying knowing that, as tiring as it can be, I get shit done. I still get carded buying beer and I’m okay with that. Oh, and I lost that freshman 40 from college. Finally.

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Me and the kid
Naturally I hang out with Mama Nancy

Where did you see yourself in a year, 5 years, 10 years from high school?
**PS: Athlete profiles on Saturdays will be BACK next week!

If my mother only knew…

If you were to ask my mama, she would say I wasn’t that bad of a kid. Ask me? I was a demon child. 

Don’t let the Glamour Shots fool you. And that denim jacket gave me ALL the life.

I made good grades but I challenged everything. I thought every confrontation could be solved with a fight (oh. you wanna fight about it?). I always had to know “why?” I bitched and complained about cleaning, cooking, and sewing.

“Mom! Why do I have to sew?”
“Because who is going to darn your husband’s socks, Aislinn?”

“Mom! Why do I have to talk Spanish?”
“Because how else will you talk to your mother-in-law, Aislinn?”

“Mom! Why do I have to cook?” 
“Because I don’t want to, Aislinn.”
(Just kidding. My mother tolerates loves cooking)

“Mom! Why do I have to write and speak correctly?! I wanna say ‘lol’, ‘brb’, and spell ‘cool’ like ‘kewl’ like my friends!”

(with a really judgemental look on her face)
“Because you will sound ignorant and I will not let anyone say that ignorance came out of this house. Also because people will judge you.”

God. I was so annoying. 

Second grade. Yes, I have a pasta necklace on. Yes, that is my real hair. All that judgment you’re doing? Quit it. Right now. Second grade was rough.

Once I got into junior high and high school, I started being a rebel. Kind of. Like, I did things I wasn’t supposed to…but there was NO WAY I was gonna flaunt it in my parents’ faces. Because I knew some kids who did that and their parents were just like “oh no! What will we do about our rebellious child?”
…but I knew if I did it, my parents would murder me. Straight Texas Chainsaw Massacre. 

I was a rebel on the down low, yo.

So! If my mother only knew…

1. I tried smoking cigarettes twice. Both times they were Virginia Slims Menthol Lights. Both times I failed miserably and I did NOT become an immediate addict like all the literature in the school nurses office said I would if I tried smoking. 

2. One time, in college, I skipped all my classes for an entire month to pick up extra shifts at work because I blew all my money at one time and couldn’t afford to pay my bills. I didn’t tell my parents because I was really embarrassed that I could be so irresponsible. 

3. My first semester of freshman year at LSU, I literally drove every other weekend to San Antonio to spend time with my then boyfriend, but he was not the reason I wanted to transfer to UTSA. That would be because I wanted to take class with my best friend, Brittany.

4. In elementary school, I used to creep into her room and try on her bras to estimate how big my boobs would get and then meticulously fold them back the way that she had them so she wouldn’t notice. Ha. 
(ladies, don’t even try to tell me you didn’t do that)

5. I always knew that she kept Christmas presents at the bottom of her closet behind the shoes, but I would literally WILL myself to stay away from them. I didn’t want to ruin her surprise (she LOVES giving Christmas presents).

6. (if my mama and daddy both knew!) One time, my dad almost accidentally threw away all of the love letters, pictures, and little notes/artifacts from before and just after my parents got married. I managed to save them before certain demise and I’ve kept them safe ever since to avoid a accidental and unfortunate fate at the bottom of a trash can. 

I know I’m saying all these like she doesn’t know…but knowing Mama Nancy, she probably does know. With the exception of the last one. And if she didn’t before…she knows now! (hi, mom!) 

Linking up with: Two Thirds Hazel and Mommy in Heels

LETTER TO MY 21 YEAR OLD SELF

It’s been a while since I participated in a link up. So imagine my excitement when I spied this gem over on Holly’s blog.

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Oh twenty-one. That was questionable. I think. I don’t remember much of it. With that said, here goes!

Dear 21 year old me,

Stop right there.
That Wendy’s cheeseburger? Put it down.
Go to the store and make some real groceries.

I guess I should assure you that this is, in fact, you from the future writing this. Because I guarantee you’re real skeptical right now. You just got a tattoo on your ribs that you’re praying to God is covered by your bra strap and your mother never sees. You also have a crush on your super hot English comp. professor which is the only reason you’re actually dragging yourself out of bed every MWF to go to a 730 class. See? Proof.

That guy you’re seeing right now? You are crazy in love with him, but I hate to tell you, you’re wasting your time. It’s going to end pretty badly at the gates of the LSU football practice complex. And you’re never getting your badass yellow basketball shorts back. 

In other news: that girl, Kristen? She’s going to take care of you at LSU. You’ve had it kind of rough the past couple of years. As much as you love it, you really miss your family and friends at home. She’s gonna share her family and friends with you and she’ll pretty much become your family. Remember to thank her. 

Always know that you have a cozy piece of floor to sleep on at Jelisa, Kristie, and Serena’s. They always want you to sleep on the couch or something but you never make it there. Also, even though you’d never make yourself grits and pancakes, Jelisa always will. 

When Hurricane Gustav hits and you’re stuck without power for a week, be more picky about the MREs you get. Not all MREs are equal, but the ravioli and beef stroganoff are the bomb.com. 

Be nicer to Mama Nancy. You’re going through a rough time and she’s doing everything she can to hold it together. Cut her some slack. Make sure you call her every Sunday even when you’re mad at her. Your phone calls mean a lot more to her than you know. And make an effort to go home more. Nothing makes your daddy more excited than having his baby girl home to do projects with him.

Some really bad things are going to happen to you this year. A lot of those things are going to be completely out of your control. You cannot sit on those things and let them eat you up or steal your joy. 

You will give up on a really good relationship because you are stubborn as f*ck. And that was a dumb move. So try to not be that way so much, huh? You don’t ALWAYS have to prove your point. Sometimes you can just go with the flow. 

You’re going to drink a lot, but try not to drink so much, huh? Things that are not cute: smeared eyeliner, drunk fights, hair that smells like cheap tequila and beef jerky. Also, you’re gonna have a really bad run in with a bottle of Amaretto. 

All in all, 21 kind of blows…but it sets you up for a really good 22. In fact it sets you up for a great 23, and fabulous 25 (24 is a year we’re not gonna talk about, okay?).

So go ahead, live it up. Do some crazy shit. But try to remember to consciously be a better person. It’s easy to lose yourself in 21. 

All my love,
25 year old you


My very first link up! Finishing the Sentence with Jake and Holly!

Yo! 
I’ve never done a link up before, but I’m doing one now! 
I love Holly’s blog. She’s pretty hilarious and I love reading her stuff. Plus I dig that she loves a clean house and a good bottle of beer. You can visit Holly’s blog here.

Equally funny and my very favorite boy blogger: Jake! He’s hilarious, too, and has an awesome boy perspective on things. You can visit his blog here.

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My best friend says…that I need to move back home. She also thinks that I stress myself entirely too much and I work too hard. She can’t wait for me to come visit for our other friend’s bachelor party.

People call me… on the phone, mostly. 

The best part of my day… is the moment approximately 7-12 minutes after I take my preworkout and my face starts tingling. That’s how I know it’s GO time.


I really don’t understand… the concept of requiring pantyhose in the workplace. Is it 1962? No? Then let me wear my bare legs. Ugh. Just thinking about wearing pantyhose for 8 hours everyday makes my teeth itch.

I get really annoyed… when people don’t understand the concept of whispering. It’s a WHISPER. It’s not supposed to be heard clear as a bell from across the room. Also when people don’t understand that brassieres are not appropriate shirts. I don’t care who you are. Unless you’re Selena. In which case, please, continue.

There’s nothing like a… thick, juicy steak cooked rare.

Lately, I can’t get enough… sleep. Seriously, 3 jobs is taking its toll. I’m averaging 21 hours a week. This is not a good thing.


One thing I am NOT is… emotional. I’m just not. I never have been. Also, while not an asshole, I’m often perceived to be because I am not emotional. It’s an unfair cycle of behaviors.

I spent too much money on… nail polish. And I can’t figure out why because I get my damn nails done. Ugh.

I want to learn…. how to swim! One day, I swear I will. Until then, I will fake it ’til I make it.


If I ever met Jake in real life , I would… probably ask to be hooked up with his brother.

I can’t stop… cursing. I can’t do it. It’s like I have tourette’s…except everything I say is completely intentional and I mean it. I just can’t stop myself from saying it.

Never have I ever… skipped school. Ever. I’m a nerd and a goody two shoes. Kind of.

Reese Witherspoon… is f*cking awesome. Did you see her mugshot? All demure and secretive and ladylike. And she threw a total bitchfit and Atlanta PD still gave her a hat. She’s my new hero.


Hooray for linkups! 

In other awesome news: guess who ranked in the top 10 sales people in her REGION for last month’s sales? Oh yeah, THIS GIRL. I might be tired as hell, but I’m clearly working my ass off. Hopefully my paycheck reflects that.

In even better news: there’s currently a giveaway going on! Hells yeah. You can get THIRTY-NINE (that’s one less than 40) entries to win by visiting the post here.