I Saw The Sign & It Said, 'Sayonara Sucka.'

* You and me and my friends and yours is more up my alley, but you get the picture.

I want you to make me feel like I'm the only girl in the worldLike I'm the only one that you'll ever loveLike I'm the only one who knows your heartOnly girl in the world...

Why, thank youverymuch Rhianna. 

I couldn't have said it better myself.

And, for this very reason, after roughly 6 weeks of dating, I have decided that I will not be seeing the Carpenter again. You know, we all have had that conversation behind someone's back about their boyfriend that goes something like,

Oh God! He's so cocky, but he's also so insecure, and just treats her like crap because of it.

Or at least, I have some sort of muscle memory of saying it at some point in time about someone long ago. (Or thinking it, at least.) And it's true - the guy who talks about how 'hot' he is, and then tells his girlfriend she needs to lose a couple pounds.
Um, yeah, you'resoThatGuy, Mister Carpenter. You're kind of an asshole.
Apparently, you and Jesus are justateensybit different afterall.
Because, for the second date in a row - though I do not doubt that the Carpenter likes me - but, for the second date in a row - I have not felt like the only girl in the world.
I have felt like... Well, not good. Not beautiful. Entirely unappreciated.
You see, last night the Carpenter suggested I take up running, because 'it would tone up my ass'. He then preceded to, while we were at dinner, point out a hostess' own ample bottom & say,

'See? Wouldn't you like it to look more like that?'

Um, no thank you SirMixALot.
I like my ass.
A lot. The way it is.
In fact, after many many years of not being comfortable in my own body (and still working on it daily) I like my body. In fact, in the neon green push up bra & black lace underwear I was wearing last night, I looked like a fucking lingerie model*.
Or pretty damn close for a 'civilian'

*You know, the Ex of 5 Years was wise enough to once 

see a photo of a nude Kate Moss (not Kat Moss) 

and say, 'You have the exact same body as she does.'  

Sometimes the man was brilliant.

Okay, that might be a be a bit of hyperbole, but still. I looked good. Worth a 'Hot Damn' or two.

Thankyouverymuch, Skinny Mirror.

I also am a fan of my boobs.
Should I do some sort of pec
workout to make them more to his liking?
I thought not.

You know, I dare say, he's pretty lucky that I've spent as much time with him as I have - dressed or undressed.

You know what is not hyperbole? For a man who spends as much time taking about how 'f'in' hot he is while complaining how he is insecure about his love handles, it's interesting how much he is able to belittle me without saying very much at all.

And! On top of all this: I'm really nice to him!

Like really nice!

I have no problem agreeing with him when he says how handsome he is.
I don't mind disagreeing with him when he says he has love handles. It's a lie. He has them, but up until recently, I didn't mind.

And for as cute as he is - I've come to realize that he also very very very closely resembles Frank the Tank streaking down the street in Old School.

So, sometimes after a post-Hunger Games comment like,

'Too bad they killed the blonde Tribute off so quickly, she was hawwwwwt.' 

Every girl deserves to feel like Heidi Klum.

I want to bark,

'Get off your high horse, you asshole. You look like Will Ferrell.'

That can't be a good sign.
And at first, I could overlook that because he was funny and sweet and sort of endearingly insecure, but last night I found myself playing 'I Am Not Going to Show Affection To Him First'.
A silent game I play with myself where I decide not be the first one to show affection when we're out. Though, I'm awful at it, because I usually forget I'm playing and mindlessly grab for his hand or scratch his back. Also, not a good sign.
I knew when I met him, he had a wandering eye (or as I call him, Swivel-Head).
That's fine, whatever. I can deal with that, but with the Carpenter it has become so much more a symbol of his own insecurites and whatever, and I don't have to put up with it.
I don't.
And, I won't.
Cause I see the signs & refuse to play a game of Beauty & the Beast in hopes that he'll change.

He asked me the other day,

So when are you going to show me off in front of your friends?

(Which I can only assume is Insecure Speak for: Am I good enough to meet your friends?)

Um... Never?

I'm on the first carriage out of Carpenteria!

Because he doesn't make me feel like the only girl in the world.
And lucky for me, I know he's not the only guy in the world.
Baby, it's a big big world out there.

So with that I say,

Sayonara Carpenter.
Adios Muchacho.
Keep workin' on those love handles, Dude.

Oh! And say Ciao! to your brother for me. 
You were right, he is better looking than you.*

*A few weeks ago I met his younger brother - 

and immediately after the introductions took place, I mean literally,

the boy had not been out of the apartment longer than 3 minutes - the Carpenter barked, 'Yes I know, my brother's better looking than I am, but he doesn't make nearly as much money as I do. Sometimes he needs help with the rent.'