What is wrong with people?

Published February 28, 2016 by The Blanquita

I have found myself asking this question too many times. For some reason, society seems less concerned with other people and more concerned in their own fulfillment. I would like to post a disclaimer and tell you that there is hope. You don’t have to end up in these situations, but pay attention. It could happen to anyone if you’re not careful. Put yourself first and follow your instincts.

Read the following TRUE  anecdotes and try to figure out if you can see what’s coming. If you can, you might be smarter than I was!

The cheat:

He picked me up in his oversized pickup for our first date. We had been talking for a few weeks and it felt like we were really hitting it off. He was a stocky firefighter who had a shy, sweet demeanor. He wasn’t going to be featured in a calendar anytime soon, but he was right up my alley–masculine with a touch of romantic.

We ate at a restaurant on the beach with a pier that jutted out from the back deck. As with most south Florida dining establishments, the wait was going to be significant so we decided to take a walk on the pier and talk. With the ocean and moon as a romantic backdrop, he pulled me in for a passionate kiss.

I always tried not to have any expectations on dates but I couldn’t help but get excited. This date was going perfectly! Conversation at dinner was going amazing as well. We talked about sports, life and work, and the words were flowing steadily.

Having learned my lesson from previous dates, I knew not to get my hopes up but this was great! I had finally met someone with whom my mental and physical attraction matched. As far as first dates go, we were doing pretty well.

Before going home, we shared another kiss and talked more. He even called me on his way home to tell me what a great time he had.

The next day, the good vibes were still flowing. We had been texting back and forth and my hopes were raising. He sent me a text saying that he was so excited to have met someone he really hit it off with. All excitement aside, a warning was going off in the back of my head. There’s something wrong, do your research.

And so, I did. And to my dismay what I found was even worse than I expected. Armed with his first and last name, I found his Facebook. Complete with pictures of his wife- and unborn child. Yes. You read that right. Not only was this piece of excrement married, he was cheating on his pregnant wife!

I was beyond furious. I managed to contain my emotions and simply sent a text saying “is there anything you would like to tell me?” He said no and acted curious. I then told him I knew everything. He attempted to make excuses but I was not about to have any of it. I took a screenshot of all our conversations and sent it to his wife. And then I essentially told him to f*** off.

The liar:

I started talking to A before I moved back to Miami. He was a sexy, recently divorced cop whom I had really hit it off with. Typically I would not waste my time on someone who was so fresh out of a relationship, but he practically begged that I give him a fair shot.

Soon after we began speaking, that familiar (but annoying) alarm started going off. I did the necessary research and discovered that this man was still married. When I confronted him, he admitted he was separated but was in the middle of a divorce. I told him that I thought we should postpone any relationship until it was official. He agreed and we ceased communication.

Fast forward a few months later, I started working in the area he patrolled. One night, he pulled up next to me with his blue lights on smiling and laughing. I sent a text and then the sparks started flying.

We started meeting up frequently. Spending one night talking in his car until almost sunrise. In between, we talked and used Skype constantly. The chemistry was strong… and then it wasn’t.

(Scarface 1983)

Suddenly, his demeanor changed, and when I confronted him, he finally admitted that he did not want to pursue a relationship. That’s all fine, except he had been telling me for months that he did want one-with me. He just needed time.

After all of the time I had invested, he told me he didn’t want a relationship at all. He needed time to recover from his divorce, which was now official.

For the record, a few months later, he was in a relationship with someone else.

The question:

Why? Why lead someone on with false hope? Why act like you want someone when you have no intentions of a future? Why intentionally disappoint another person? What is wrong with people? I may never know the answer to this.

Stay tuned:

In my next post, I will give advice on how you can avoid scenarios like these. You do not have to feel like you’re in a soap opera!

Until then, keep on truckin’!





I’m back!

Published February 28, 2016 by The Blanquita

I’m sorry to all (five) of my readers that I have stepped out on you. These past couple years have been a whirlwind of events that I have neglected to share with you all. Good news! I have plenty of dating stories that have been stacking up. Keep reading for more of my misadventures in dating!


Published July 13, 2014 by The Blanquita

He stepped out of his red BMW and without hesitation we were intertwined. His mouth pressed against mine, my body leaning into his and vice versa. My high heels stood in between his designer, leather loafers. The heat between us was palpable.

I was twenty and this was my first real, adult relationship. And in retrospect, that was a clear sign that I had a whole lot to learn. The relationship smelled like whiskey, looked like sex and in reality was pure trouble.

That evening he picked up the check for me and another couple I had invited along. To be honest, he wasn’t all that much to look at. He was a wiry and slightly scarred, walking coloring book for the disturbed. He had thick Indio hair,  a slightly over-sized nose and a thin, wide-set mouth that was either part of a frown or a smirk. Or both. He was the only person I knew who could pull off both. Not much upon first glance. But there was an innate air of sex that he omitted. I still can’t put my finger on it.

Maybe it was the way he spoiled me. Something that any 20-year-old girl could be tempted by. He would wait patiently in brightly lit stores among the other bored boyfriends. Except, he was eager and sweet. Offering to pay for anything I liked. Designer sunglasses, perfume, dresses and dinners at fancy restaurants were all part of the package. I had never been materialistic, but a girl would have to be cuckoo not to appreciate such a generous demeanor.

He was a two-time Iraq War Veteran at twenty four and being the loyal patriot I was, I was impressed. Despite his small and scarred frame, etched with disturbing tattoos, he had an overwhelming sense of masculinity. He had a rather confusing mix of American mixed with Colombian, masculine mixed with stylish, sweet mixed with sour, that all added up to endearing in my eyes.

Perhaps the country bumpkin in me was impressed by such things. Perhaps the inner little girl thought she had met her rough around the edges Prince Charming. Who knows, but whatever the reason I was hooked.

I have managed to go 25 years without any drugs except for J.

It didn’t take long for the honeymoon phase to be over. The excessive lifestyle that we lead together also included over-the-top drinking and fighting. There was rarely a rendezvous that didn’t include us yelling about something petty. One of those topics was a hunch that he was being flirtatious with one of his best friends’ girlfriends. A tall, skinny, woman with a big nose and no lips. Nothing like the curvy Latinas one would normally find in Miami. She was saved under her name and “My Love” in his phone.

Although the argument had ended and I had met her and attempted to form a friendship, I would later learn that they were hooking up shortly after our breakup. There goes that Miami mentality for you. A friend one minute, sleeping with your ex the next.

It’s amazing what you’ll overlook when you haven’t yet learned your value as a woman and haven’t stepped into your own. I was still a confused college student who had seen little of the world or the people in it. I wanted to believe in “The One” and all that entailed. But eventually the relationship ended and we went our separate ways. I later found out he cheated with at least one other woman, although I suspect there were more.

It didn’t matter. Where one love had ended another started up. I was hooked on Miami and the magic that filled the city. The lights, the music, the people, the chaos. Everything had me so enthralled, I would spend the next several years trying to get back.

I think back onto my relationship with J and what that started. Maybe I was always meant to meet him. If not for him would I have ever traveled to Miami? I can remember walking down the street on South Beach for the first time and feeling the electricity flow through me. The balmy air teeming with sexual energy. The big leafy palms and the distant beat of drums and horns from the salsa music. Always the salsa music.

It was clear I had formed a bond with the city that wouldn’t end with that relationship. And sure enough, it didn’t.


The unfairness of dating.. or is it?

Published April 15, 2014 by The Blanquita

I found out this week that my ex, ( the angry and controlling one) is now engaged. When he told me, a rush of both anger and jealousy hit me like freight train. I wasn’t upset for the reasons that one might think. I didn’t care that he had moved on with his life. And I wasn’t jealous because he had found someone else. I had left him after all.

No, what had me seething the most was the unfairness of it all. I had to uproot my life twice for him. Both to move to a different city for him and subsequently to move to get away. I had to leave a job with no prospects to come back to the Burg. I had to take one crappy job after another just to get back on my feet. I was even working two jobs at around 65 hours a week just to make ends meet.

Gradually, I put the pieces of my life back together, but I always felt like one piece was missing. You always hear about karma. Shouldn’t someone treating their live-in girlfriend like garbage constitute to be alone, if not for the rest of your life, but for at least a few years?

Not only did I struggle financially, but emotionally as well. I suffered from one bad date after another. One attempt at a relationship after another. And for what? Nothing but frustration and stress came out of any of it. I was the victim in all of it so shouldn’t I have the happy ending?

Don’t get me wrong. My life has changed for the better in a lot of ways without him in it. But don’t I deserve to find someone good? Someone who loves and appreciates me? Why should an emotional abuser find happiness while his victim is still alone? What kind of justice is that?

I had always held out the hope that the reason I hadn’t found anyone yet was because I wasn’t in the right place in my life. I still have aspirations. One of those being to move back to south Florida. I always assumed that I would find the right person there. But should I live like a hermit until I get there? Hopefully not.

The only good thing I can say that came out of this burst of emotion was the want to move forward. Regardless if I was with someone or not, I at least wanted to say that I was doing my part to make my life the best that I could and make the most out of it as it was. Somehow, this revelation knocked some sense into me. Why be upset that things with silly men weren’t working out in a city you don’t even want to be in? So you can be stuck here even longer?

I decided to make a change. I have a good job now but what’s wrong with wanting better? What’s wrong with reaching for the goals I had been wanting to obtain for the last few years? So with that, I started printing out applications and scheduling tests.

John Lennon once said “Life is what happens when you are busy making plans.” That may be true, but for the next few months my life will be all about making plans. Plans for a better and more fulfilling life. So my ex may be getting married. I don’t know the details of their relationship and it really doesn’t matter. In a way, I should thank him. The shock gave me the push I needed to snap out of my complacency and snap on the tenacity.

So where does the fairness come in? Well I guess it depends on your perspective. Sure I’m still single. But I’m headed towards bigger and better things than I ever was when I was with him, and maybe that’s the ultimate karma.


Published December 11, 2013 by The Blanquita

When I was working in Fort Lauderdale I had the opportunity to meet people from all walks of life. While my relationship with my ex was feigning, I found solace in making new friends at work. The job wasn’t in anyway glamorous. I was only making a few dollars over minimum wage and I was a front desk girl employed by a security company. But it was a way to escape arguing and negativity at home.

I had moved to South Florida to be close to E. He had a house already, but since he wanted to put it up for short-sale, we were supposed to find an apartment first. When I found a job sooner than expected, I had a week to move there. I grabbed my personal belongings and the pug puppy he had bought for me, and hit the road.

There was a tornado warning that day. And my knuckles were white as my car crept over the Skyway Bridge going no more than 45 mph. As soon as the skies cleared, so did my mind. I knew that I was taking an important step toward my future. This was the man I wanted to marry. Any arguments we had before, in my head, were a result of the distance. But I soon realized distance may be what was keeping us together.

While he worked long hours as a paramedic, I stayed at home with his family who also lived in the house. I had few friends in Miami and didn’t have many other options other than venturing out alone. His parents tried to be welcoming, but with a language barrier that was difficult. I felt alone and isolated most of the time. I made more phone calls to my family members than I ever had before.

Living in Hialeah proved to be a complete culture shock for me. And as a blonde white girl, I stuck out like a sore thumb. After being followed up after an afternoon jog, I was ready to get out. My lease in St. Pete was almost up and after much prodding, I convinced E to go apartment hunting. We eventually settled on one in Plantation and managed to move all of my belongings out of my old apartment four hours away and into the new one. It was a taxing day for both of us and neither of us were in good spirits. I chalked it up to exhaustion but little did I know this was only a sign of things to come.

I was determined to get into shape so that became my new hobby. After work I spent two hours working out. As I look back I realize it was probably a great distraction. When I was at home, E and I were constantly arguing. Usually, it was because he refused to grow up and clean up after himself. I did the cooking and most of the cleaning, along with working full-time and paying half of the bills. But it was also because he had stopped trying. All the adventure and romance had gone out the window.

Arguments also included his extreme jealousy. He was convinced I was cheating (I wasn’t) and when I did start making friends he got angry about the occasional Friday night out. His insecurity was fueled by the fact that I was keeping myself in shape and he was letting himself go. I would sometimes drive around for hours just to get peace and get away. This only made his suspicions worse. I was miserable and so was he. There were times I tried to reason with him. I tried to talk but he wouldn’t listen.

I knew in my heart it was over but there was still a part of me that loved him. So I stuck around hoping things would work  out. Sure we had our good moments. But they were overshadowed by the bad. I remember vividly one night in particular.

We had gone out (a rare occasion) for ice cream. We came home and attempted to have sex. After he came, he looked at me and said “That was weird huh?”. I was crushed. This relationship was fading fast and I had no control over the outcome. I was a shell of my former independent, confident and carefree self. Instead, I was isolated from my family and isolated by a man who was in control of my living and financial situation. I had never expected to be here. But worse, I started to realize this was exactly where he wanted me.

…To Be Continued





Where it all began……

Published August 21, 2012 by The Blanquita

I am a 24 year old All-American girl that lives in St. Petersburg, Florida. I was raised in the panhandle but it might as well have been Alabama. Raised Baptist by Southern parents who believed in strict parenting with a lot of love, I was ready to spread my wings.  I moved to St. Pete for school and I changed from slow-paced country life to a little bit busier of a lifestyle. After leaving for a brief stint in Miami (great 6 months), I moved back. I later decided to change my career path in pursuit of a career in law enforcement.

I often have many people question my preference. I often get the typical puzzled look followed by some sort of questioning. Why? What’s wrong with white guys? What’s wrong with black guys?
I usually humor them and go into my typical explanation. So for the sake of getting this blog started and familiarizing everyone with my dating habits and preferences that’s how I will begin. Latinos have something no other man that I have met does. They have this natural sexiness and suave disposition. This isn’t just the case in movies. It applies to everyday life.

One of the downsides to being a strong, independent American woman is that men expect you to be strong and independent when the approach comes. They often rely on the woman to make the first move. Personally, I think it’s laziness and a slowly diminishing sense of masculinity, but that’s just me. Regardless of the explanation, Latin men don’t apply to this. They aren’t afraid to approach a beautiful woman. In fact, it is a turn-on for them.
You see, being American, independent and strong is not a bad thing. With the exception of dating. Psychologically, men enjoy the chase. Latin men still seem to have this primal instinct where American men rarely possess it anymore.

Another, thing I love about Hispanic men is their accent. Antonio Banderas… no further explanation needed.

Passion and romanticism seem to ooze from their pores. If you have ever been intimate with a Latino no further explanation is needed. If not, you’re missing out. If you ever want to feel like you are the most beautiful woman in the world, curves, imperfections and all, Latino men love a woman’s body. If you believe that a man’s moves on the dance floor are directly correlated to those elsewhere, you definitely know what I mean.

In a city where I often see men sporting beards reminiscent of Abraham Lincoln and Mr. Kennedy from Gone with the Wind along with flip-flops and board shorts,  it is refreshing to travel to Miami and see tanned men decked out in cleanly pressed pants and shirts and maybe even … could it be? A tie! Really, it just warms my heart. Sometimes it really baffles me how members of the most visual sex, expect a woman to look immaculate, yet they feel that it is okay to roll out of bed with no effort put toward their looks whatsoever. Latinos seem to understand this concept and I really appreciate them for it.

Also on the visual level, I love the contrast of light to dark skin. Yes, I am aware that Latinos come in all skin colors. However, the typical caramel skin, dark or hazel eyes, and black hair is gorgeous. Someone of this description standing by a blonde woman, with blue eyes and light skin is a great combination in my opinion.

I believe I have given a thorough enough explanation on this subject, but keep reading to learn more about my dating life. You think your dating life is frustrating? I could literally count on one hand the amount of normal men I have been out with. I always said  I could write a book on my experiences, instead I decided to write a blog. So stay tuned. If nothing else, it’s guaranteed to make you feel a hell of a lot better about your love life!