Category Archives: Boyfriend

Payback’s a…

My dear bloggers, although I only made you wait one day for the answer to Kiefer’s proposal, I made Kiefer wait a few weeks. During those weeks, we had conversations like this:

Thoughtsy: I’m still shocked that you actually proposed.

Kiefer: Did you like it? I wrote it down. And then I memorized it. Mem-o-riz-ed it.

Thoughtsy: Can I have the written version? For the blog. Maybe you could sign it, too. So it would be like a contract. Let’s add in a cupcake clause. Also…I’m going to need you to propose again.

Kiefer: I’ll propose to you every day if you want.

Thoughtsy: Do I get 4+ years to decide?

Kiefer: What are you talking about? I’ve wanted to get married this whole time. You’ve been the hold up.

Thoughtsy: ::the “excuse-me” eyebrow raise:: Not. Funny.

Kiefer: Fine. But can we get married now? Now? What about now?

Thoughtsy: Every time you ask, I’m making you wait an extra month.

Kiefer: Well played, Thoughtsy. Well played.

Favorite Comments From Last Post:

  • “RING RING I SPOT A RING IN THAT FIRST PICTURE! And a cupcakes…I see an amazing looking cupcake…and a skinny looking hot lady!! Happy Birthday month! I would make you cupcakes if I lived closer.”—Brittany
  • “I’m surprised the cupcake didn’t go up in flames after all those key-lime mart…ummm…after dinner.”—Cooper

The Way to My Heart. Yes, It Involves a Pop-Tart.

After Kiefer proposed, I made him wait for an answer. To get a taste of his own medicine. Don’t worry though. I’m not making you wait any longer.

For weeks, I grilled him with my questions, concerns, and every possible scenario I could think of. Kiefer was my heart’s choice, but my head needed reassurance.

Then one weekend Kiefer and I headed down to DC’s Ted’s Bulletin for homemade Pop-Tarts.


Blueberry Cheesecake Pop-Tart

After walking around the Eastern Market for a while, he suggested we eat cupcakes from Buzz Bakery.


Cookie Monster, Carrot Cake, The 9:30 Club, and Coconut

As we ate cupcakes, I knew. I knew that any man who feed me Pop-Tarts and cupcakes in the same day was the guy for me.

We could have Pop-Tarts and cupcakes every day. We’d eat so many that our little babies would have sprinkles for dimples and icing for hair.

Kiefer: Hey do you hear what those women are talking about?

The women at the next table were planning a wedding. I didn’t hear them because I was busy deciding what was more important: accepting Kiefer’s proposal or eating the last bite of cupcake.

Thoughtsy: YES! I mean, no. I don’t know what they’re talking about.

Marriage Proposal Acceptance Fail.

Kiefer: Then why did you just say, “Yes?” Wait…. Yes?

Thoughtsy: Yes.

Kiefer: Yes!

Favorite Comment From Last Post: ALL OF THEM!

Don’t Wait for the Perfect Moment. Take the Moment and Make It Perfect.

For the newbies, here’s the extremely short background to this post. I was with a guy for 4+ years, but he had commitment issues, so I left about 6 months ago. You can read about all that here.

A couple weeks after Kiefer and I broke up, we had this conversation:

Kiefer: I can’t believe how easy this seems for you.

Thoughtsy: It’s not easy. I didn’t just wake up one day and decide to leave. Every day you didn’t propose was a day you pushed me away. Part of me hopes one day you’ll show up on my doorstep with a ring, and everything will be ok.

Kiefer: So in a few weeks, not if, but when I show up on your doorstep with a ring….

Thoughtsy: You can’t say that. I’ll just think you’re proposing out of desperation. You have to wait. Aaaaaand…just to make sure I believe you, you should probably have a ring in one hand and plane tickets to Vegas in the other.

A few months later…

Blarney: Kiefer wanted to talk to me…about you. He knows he messed up. I believe him.

A little over a month ago, Kiefer called me to ask if we could meet. He said it couldn’t wait.

Kiefer: I love you. I love your wit. I love how caring you are.

::Insert other awesomeness about me and lots of memories that Kiefer and I share plus some of his thoughts about our future. Ten minutes or so later…::

I took tomorrow afternoon off so we can go to the Justice of the Peace, and I have tickets to Vegas for next weekend if you want to do that. We could have a wedding for friends and family later…maybe around Halloween since that’s our holiday. I’m sorry I waited so long….

Will you marry me?


Kiefer: Ozzy Puppy! Leave it! Don’t eat the ring!

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “I am NEVER letting my boyfriend get an iPad. He spends way too much time in the toilet as it is….”—Bevchen

There’s a First Time for Everything

Cupcake Dangler (CD):  While I was running errands, I ran into an old buddy, and we grabbed a drink. How was your night?

Me: It was fine…right up until the point that you stood me up.

In my 15 dating years, I’ve never been stood up. Even Mephistopheles never pulled that. He was notorious for showing up late, but he always showed up.

CD: I didn’t realize I had actually committed to seeing you tonight.

Oh no you didn’t…. The c-word rears its ugly head.

CD: I’m sorry. I messed up.

Me: It’s ok.

That “It’s ok” was the kind you feel like you have to say because someone apologized, but in reality, your feelings are still hurt and you just want to punch the asshatted douchearoo in the face.

Except for this, CD was a perfect gentleman while we dated. But it was this exchange that made me begin to realize he wasn’t the guy for me.

My friend Puddin’ put it best: “He’s nice guy. But he’s not your nice guy.”

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “That cupcake is terrifying. Look at the eyes! Cookie Monster is choking on that cookie. Why are you wasting time arguing about desserts and nicknames when you should be doing the Heimlich maneuver?”—Laura

How to Spot a Psychokiller

One evening the Cupcake Dangler (CD) invited me to his house. I accepted…and then I panicked.

What if his super-polite gentlemanliness was all an act…and he was secretly a psychokiller.

After Googling the percentage of psychopaths in the population (1-2%), I decided to play the odds. CD was probably safe. And his house probably did not contain a secret torture room.

Nevertheless, I decided to be on guard and look for suspicious psychokiller clues.

CD: Would you like some wine?

What I Should Have Said: No, thank you.

What I Really Said: Yes, please. 

Translation: I’m afraid you’re going to kill me, and I want to be numb to the pain.

CD: Red or White? This bottle of white is already opened, but I can open the red if you prefer?

What I Should Have Said: Red, please.

Translation: I want to be sure you didn’t roofie the opened bottle.

What I Really Said: White, please.

Translation: Roofie, shmoofie.

CD: Can I give you the tour?

What I Should Have Said: Yes. Of the living room. Only the living room.

What I Really Said: Sure!

Translation: I will stab you with the wine glass stem if you try anything.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “I’m with you; that peacock looks incredibly dangerous. Its beady eye is freaking me out right now.”—Sarah9188