Category Archives: catch-22

Hot Stranger Boys, Cliché’s, and those confounding timeless questions of life

Am I in a downward spiral and don’t know it?  Has the incessant spiraling now become too standard for me to realize what I’m doing and perhaps I’m too dizzy to be aware of what’s happening?  Wait…is this the frog boiling on the stove analogy happening as I type? 

A few details:

ABD is a  super nice guy, way laid back, didn’t meet him online, but through a friend.  I don’t know his actual age, but I’m confidently guessing him at somewhere in the vicinity of ten years older than I or more.  I don’t want that to matter.  I want to focus on nice guy…not at all bad looking, unmarried, and seems so very kind (in fact it is his computer on which I type this).  We had drinks together in a small group one evening shortly after I returned.  He felt as though he knew me before…ummmm, I’m pretty sure not.  I’m horribly forgetful, but I don’t usually forget faces and I didn’t recognize him by any means. 

Wasn’t at all interested in dating him, but enjoyed hanging out with him.  Then I was coaxed pushed into going on a double date to a Halloween party with him. I had a nice time.  It was fun to flirt and just relax for a while…still not interested in him at all though!  Afterward, he offers to let me use his extra laptop for a while.  This is terrific, as I love to write and my daughters need a computer for a lot of their homework assignments.  So of course, I gratefully accepted…and now he emails and calls regularly.  I feel guilty that I don’t want to see him or hang out.  The naked truth is I’m not all that interested in seeing most anyone or hanging out much at all really.  Too much going on personally, so much I’m dealing with, with the children, and my stress level automatically prioritizes.  Dating someone or even just hanging out with a guy who is interested that way while I’m not, just feels like a lot more added stress and guilt on an already over-loaded situation.

He has gotten insistent a few times and I just keep throwing my excuses at him…  What??  They’re valid!  They are!  Okay yeah, so maybe they also happen to be convenient excuses to not go out with a guy I’m really not interested in anyway but who is just so nice, I wish I could be interested.  He’s also a quite the pot smoker, which I’m not at all.  I don’t judge his choice for the marijuana bit (to each his own), but add that he rides a Harley and wears his greying hair in a ponytail…these things somehow add to his age in my mind.  Maybe he should seem younger than his age, but in reality (well, my reality), these things make him appear the “Aging Biker Guy”.  I was never one for pot, but I do recall a few bad-boy stoner/biker guys from high school and college who I secretly crushed on. I kinda liked thewhole  James Dean-ish  image thing, but I never would have dated one…even then! Somehow now, and at his age, it all just screams of the ridiculous.  I struggle to take the image he presents seriously….it almost makes me giggle at the cliché.  Yet, I don’t believe he’s trying for this cliché thing; it seems to be who he’s always been, not some mid-life crisis ordeal, and how does one change who they are?  Why should they?  Just because they’ve become a walking, talking, pot smoking, Harley riding, pony tail wearing cliché?  Is it really even a cliché if it’s what you’ve always been?    Seriously…you gotta be who you are, right?  Yup, I agree, but that doesn’t mean I can bring myself to be interested in dating one even if it really is just who he is.  So I make excuses…valid ones, yeah, but I admit they are excuses…  I’m really sorry AB…truly…  Ummm… it’s just never  gonna happen..

Topic two: A few weeks ago, I went bowling with a group of friends.  We had a great time.  It was terrific to catch up and just be goofy with friends for a while.  Unfortunately, here is where I have a few confessions to make.

I’m not much of a drinker.  Sure, I love a few glasses of wine with dinner, a few beers with friends, or occasionally a few drinks when I go dancing, but I’m just not a very good drinker beyond that. My catch-22 with the drinking thing is that I rarely want to drink anything beyond that unless I’m stressed…and let me tell you, I don’t know exactly what it is, but I can not handle alcohol when I’m too stressed.  It must be something in my brain chemicals or hormonal… hell, I don’t know! Does this indicate alcoholism?  I’ve pondered that even…  It’s a sad thing that when I’m most interested in escaping and forcing some relaxation on my brain and body with a few too many is precisely the exact time which my brain and body can’t tolerate much alcohol at all, much less beyond what I typically know I can handle gracefully.

…so a few weeks ago…bowling…drinks…fun with friends… Everyone decides to go to a bar to listen to a live band, dance, and drink a bit more.  I know I should just go home, but the kids are gone for the weekend, I’ve been way stressed, and I’m happy to be out among friends..and truthfully, I just don’t feel like going home anyway, so I join them to the next place.

I’m dancing like a foolish idiot…yeah..that’s okay.  I do that.  It’s not my first time.  I’m not so ashamed…  I probably think I’m dancing like Beyonce, when in fact it resembles Elaine from Seinfeld.  I know….  Hey,   I’m not trying to impress anyone, I’m just having fun.  If you don’t like it, you really don’t have to watch.  I know it might be like a train wreck where you don’t wanna look, but can’t help yourself…  Whatever. That’s your problem.

Anyway, I’m dancing like the sexy beast I am and a few more old friends show up.  Yay!  This is awesome….and they start buying shots…  This seems like a good idea since I’m stressed and yet I do know that it isn’t a good idea since I’m stressed…  But I drink them and I think I’m grateful…

When somehow, in the midst of this whole shenanigan, Hot Stranger Boy starts talking to me.  Yeah, I gotta go with “boy” here, as I’m thinking he’s early 20’s if he’s even a day.  I really don’t know how or why hot boy and I are talking.  It’s all rather jumbled at that point.  I’m no cougar though.  In fact, I don’t typically find myself even attracted to guys who are more than one or two years younger than I.  It’s just not my thing.  Don’t misunderstand, I might find them attractive yeah, but I just don’t find myself attracted TO them.  But apparently, this guy, this situation, these drinks, this I-don’t-freakin’-know-what, brings me to find hot stranger boy attractive and we decide it’s a great idea that he comes over.

What?  Who decided this?  And what in the hell was that person thinking?  This is not a good idea on several levels.  One:  I’ve had way too much to drink; two:  I’m stressed out of my mind and suffering from a temporary case of blonde n’ flighty ADD (which I tend to do when stressed)and three:  hot boy is a BOY.  What in the hell is happening here?  Who’s in charge?  I need to speak to them immediately because someone needs to get a grip on this sitch…and soon…

Not me, though, for the precise reasons this was not a good idea are the same reasons me getting a grip on this sitch and putting it into perspective under the circumstances was just not going to happen.  Hot Stranger Boy and I get dropped at my house, which happens to be empty of anyone except the Hot Boy and myself.  Coincidence?  Uhh, I think not…

As soon as we are in my house, alone, I must have had a brief moment of perspective because I remember suddenly feeling kinda nervous and thinking (to myself of course), this just might not be a good idea.  I should drive him home.  Ohh hell no…I can’t drive in my intoxicated state.  But yeah, I’m responsible so I do the next best thing; I suggest we have a glass of wine and a cigarette.  What?!  I never said I made good choices under these circumstances, even while in “perspective” mode.  Yeah, another glass of wine was the last thing on earth I/we needed.  But I open a bottle of Seven Deadly Zins and we proceed to have a glass.  I start looking for my iPod..can’t find it…  No worries…Hot Stranger Boy’s got this.  He plays his; he selects John Mayer.   And now we have it… too many drinks plus, Hot Stranger Boy, and sexy music. Seriously, I’m feeling like I just got thrust into some teen-age movie or worse yet, a Lifetime cougar movie of the week!  Fast forward through the small talk and whatnot…

Next thing I know, hot boy and I are getting wild and crazy in my bedroom right next to his iPhone playing random John Mayer tunes.  Umm, I really couldn’t tell you how/when we moved from the somewhat safety of the living room sofa to my just-waiting-to-be-frollicked-upon big empty bed of unspeakable potentials, but somehow we managed. I probably should feel a little embarrassed at this whole scenario, but really, I don’t.  I’m okay with this as a random spontaneous act of stress and alcohol related I-don’t-give-a-damn madness.  Not to mention, the sex with Hot Stranger Boy was pretty good although the details are fuzzy (Damned alcohol anyway!).  …but true to my nature, I could never leave it at this small, somewhat understandable level of age-inappropriate behavioral embarrassment.  Nooooo, of course not.

After a few rounds of juicy sexual shenanigans with HSB, the alcohol is really settling in and I start dozing off.  When suddenly, my bladder screams, Get your ass up!  You have to go potty!  I’m half asleep and almost feel like I can put this off until morning..almost like I must put this off until morning.  I can’t get up dammit, much less fully wake up!  But my bladder insisted so I sleepily stumbled to the bathroom down the hall…

And right here…here is where I don’t understand what in the HELL happened…  ALL I know is that the next thing I recall clearly (yeah, clearly is a drunken, half-asleep relative term at this point) is I’m sitting on the edge of the bathtub, with my ass hanging over the edge of the bathtub.  Why?  Fuck if I know…I just am, okay?  I’m sitting there, approximately five feet or so away from the toilet, naked as the day I was born, when HSB comes sailing into the bathroom!  And before I could even begin to process all of the components of this unbelievable situation, he asks casually, whatchya doin’?  Are you peeing in the bathtub?

What am I doingHuh?  Did you just ask me what I’m doing? Because that seems a really stupid question, I’m clearly sitting on the edge of the bathtub with my ass hanging over the tub…  I don’t freakin’ have a clue what I’m doing!  Why else would I be sitting on the edge of the bathtub, naked, at 4 AM…if I knew what in the hell I was doing?  What could possibly be confusing about this?  I’m obviously half asleep, intoxicated, and had to stop a few feet from the toilet to gather my thoughts and reflect on my actions here…duhhhh…  I mean, what else would I be doing?! …Psh…peeing in the bathtub…are you kiddin’ me?!

Ummmmm…omg…. did I pee in the bathtub?  I really can’t be certain.  I can’t imagine I did.  And beyond any stretch of my wild imagination, I can’t imagine why I would.  I mean, geesh WTF?!  I know where to pee…  Don’t I? 

I’m not so sure anymore as I truly have not a clue what I was doing sitting there.  This might turn out to be one of those timeless questions of life…  Like, what does it all mean?  Why are we here?  Why are round pizzas put in squares? What is the purpose of it all?  Why was I sitting with my naked ass hanging over the bathtub?

Homeless by design of the Rat Bastard

11.12.10

“I never want to see you again! If you know what’s good for me, you’ll leave me alone!” These are the words I screamed to someone who once was my hero. I thought he was caring, loving, considerate, and the best dad ever, but as he crumbles my heart with his bare hands, at the same time telling me that “it’s what’s best for me,” and causing tears of lies and betrayal to stain my face, realization finally sinks in; he is not my hero, but instead it’s the person who held me tight, stroking my hair, and telling me that everything was going to be alright, even though we both knew it wouldn’t be. Yes, my hero is indeed that person, and she happens to be my mom. I know, it sounds like a childish thing to say and that maybe by now I should have a more significant person to choose, but in my world, she is the most significant person who will ever walk into my life. (Written by LD for an 8th grade English assignment on “Who’s your hero?”)</em>

For three months we lived there. We trustingly packed every belonging we ever owned or cared about and moved 2,000 miles away from any friend or family member other than him. No, I didn’t have a job when we moved. Apparently, that wasn’t a huge issue to anyone except me…at least not in the beginning. Yet, moving into a very expensive rental house in a nice suburb of the city was beyond uncomfortable for me with no income at the onset. So, as the months passed and I wasn’t finding work, my patience for this situation grew as thin as a balloon stretched beyond its capacity, actually about to the point where if one might simply brush against the damned thing it would POP! Yeah…not a good scenario…

The first week of my daughters’ school, after dropping them off, I was rear-ended by another car. This shook me up, but I blew it off with some deep breathing and soaking in a hot bath for a few evenings afterward. The guy was honest, saying, “You know, I just wasn’t paying attention. I’m really sorry.” No worries, I said as I checked out the damage to my car. It was minimal, so I said, Hey, let’s just forget about it. The distracted, but kind gentleman responded, “Thank you! That’s very nice of you. I’m really sorry.”

Yeah, seriously, no worries…the car was still drivable and that’s what mattered most to me – that I had a car to drive my children to and from school in a still-strange city, and 30 miles back and forth to cheer practice five evenings a week, and a method by which to get to my job (once I found one). No big deal. Accidents happen. How many times have I driven along not paying any attention anyway? Ummm more than I want to admit! Have a great day and take care!

Prior, during, and after this rear-end episode, my ex was being beyond a douche bag. Insulting, belittling, and worst of all entirely apathetic to any of my concerns or worries about our daughters. My youngest was typically crying for at least an hour after every visit with dad. This was particularly bad on cheer practice days when he criticized her no matter how hard she was trying to learn a sport she had just started a few weeks after moving here; several years behind the other girls on the team whom he regularly “compared” her against publicly and privately.   I was so proud of her resolve. He would insult her and she’d come home, cry for a while and then the very next day she would say to me smiling big and confidently, “I’m so excited for cheer tonight Momma…I’m going to try even harder today so Daddy won’t have to yell at me.” This scenario was repeated regularly.

Meanwhile, “Daddy” was constantly reminding me how expensive cheer was for our two girls… and I do mean constantly. I was already losing sleep over even utilizing the standard utilities: saving electricity and gas like a monstrously concerned environmental-freak; afraid to use the pool, afraid to dry our clothes in the dryer, and conserving water like we were ship-wrecked bordering on death by dehydration… Sure, living in a big beautiful home was nice, but not really appropriate under my financial circumstances. I tried to let go of the resentment that we were living under this kind of stress in spite of the fact that the three of us had wanted to stay with the “Daddy” until I found a job and could afford to live independently with the children.

OH yeah and we didn’t live alone…there were the roaches. They made their presence known about a month after we moved in. I brought this up to the Daddy who laughed and called them the “702 bugs”; who also assured me he would talk to his “guy” to see if we could get a better monthly price for pest control than the several places I called for quotes. By the way, roaches really DO multiply faster than rabbits! Within two months of living there, they had taken over our “beautiful” home. My daughters were often too freaked out at bedtime to sleep and we had nightly episodes of them running to me fearful that roaches would crawl over them if they fell asleep. If you could have seen how badly they infested, you’d understand that this wasn’t necessarily an irrational fear of theirs. I slowly became more and more disgusted to even eat in this house, but finances surely didn’t allow us to eat out either. I never mentioned my eating fears to the children. After the third or fourth “rough” night we had with them terrified to go to sleep at night and crying hysterically over roaches EVERY where, I finally called the “’Daddy” again. Ahhhh….It was okay; he just hadn’t yet had time to phone his “guy”. He would, though.

I swear these damned bugs multiplied before our very eyes. This situation escalated at a rate that I could never have imagined in my worst creepy-crawly nightmares. They were in our toilets, our food pantry, our living room, our bathtubs, our patio, our furniture, our clothing… I cannot stress how horrible this became or how quickly it worsened. It broke my heart to feel so helpless to resolve this when it went from an occasional fear to a daily struggle and the only relief my children had was the occasional nights at their dad’s, which of course, was beautifully (and entirely) roach free. In my desperation and after numerous (the number for this is truly embarrassing) calls and texts to the ex; pleading with him to help, I began to imagine scenarios where I would phone all the pest control services and offer up sex in exchange for roach control. Putting aside any pride I might have ever had in me, I contemplated how one goes about offering that kind of thing without the possibility of getting arrested. No, I’m not kidding. These were the thoughts that began to consume my mind.

Sum this all up with the chronically terrifying financial fears of stressing literally every single solitary CENT, not finding any work, and the ugly manipulative insults and/or absolute disregard my children and I were learning was just to be a part of our new lives, now add a second random car accident. Sadly though, this one totaled my car.

This time, dude in an SUV makes a left turn on a two-way street (not at an intersection) right into the driver’s side of my car, as if my car was actually invisible! BAM! He slams directly into me, forming my car into a near 90-degree angle! The car was never to be drivable again. We were literally lucky to have survived the accident.

I had no one to call to drive us home from this accident…not a single soul within a 2,000 mile radius who might come to pick up my children and me…except the “Daddy”. After nine desperate phone calls, six frantic texts (not to mention how many the children must have sent) and over an hour of time passing sitting in a demolished car the “Daddy” finally texts, yes, TEXTS, “is everything ok?” Ummm….NO..it’s NOT… That would be why your children and your ex are blowing up your phone in the middle of the afternoon with calls and texts, you self-consumed idiot.

But yeah, he finally arrived.  I was hysterical at that point and more than a tad irritated at his nonchalance to our desperation. When I hinted at this, he was quick to remind me that I had no right; that I should just be grateful that he even came for us at all; after all, he’s a busy, important man who doesn’t have the time to be dealing with his ex’s little traumatic crises.

And right here is when the true, deep terror of our situation hit me fully. Under his designed choices  and reassurances surrounding our move here, along with my failed attempts to get a job and secure any income of my own, I WE were completely and totally under his tyrannical control and at his mercy, which I stupidly had been under before and that had not turned out pretty by any means.

So, by his grace alone, he drove us directly to a car rental place to rent a car for the duration of the insurance to take over (not my insurance, you silly goose….I had no insurance. I had had to let that lapse almost immediately after moving. The at-fault driver did have insurance thank God!). And now we add in the(up-front) cost of this rental car until the insurance company reimbursed him and the insurance on said rental car which provided me the means to drive my children around at our assumed daily frantic pace and the ability to continue looking for work… to the rest of the story, the stress, the mass discomfort, the verbal and emotional abuse we were enduring, the roaches, the crying bouts of my children over their dad’s chronic public put-downs and the fear of sleeping or eating at our own house.

The straw that broke the camel’s back though,  was when my 11 year-old mentioned that she liked Daddy’s girlfriend okay, but that since we hadn’t lived here for long yet, she really wished she could have some daddy-daughter time just once in a while. Given that this WAS the reason we moved here and this “girlfriend” was only a few weeks into the situation, I did not hesitate to reassure my daughter that it was okay to discuss her feelings and wishes about that with her father; that she had every right to request occasional “Daddy” time minus the girlfriend. I told her I was certain he would want to know that she felt that way, would very much care and would honor and respect her wishes, since they certainly were not at all unreasonable. And strangely, I really believed this. Never imagined it would even cause a hiccup.

Please bear in mind that “Daddy” told us on the way in from the airport at our arrival, how he had been crying in his office earlier that morning because he was so overwhelmed with happiness that his children would finally after all these years be close at hand, close enough to have a regular relationship with on a daily/weekly basis. He had cried so hard he needed a tissue, but didn’t have any and had even “had to” buzz his secretary to bring him some tissue. And secretary was just, “awwwwwww… it’s so beautiful how much you love your children…you must be the greatest dad ever!” I hate to demonstrate my inner cynic at this touching, Hallmark card episode, but I know this man’s theatrics and I was silently disgusted that he was clearly making such a dramatic show about our move. Anything to present himself as the hero-Dad! Anything to make the whole thing all about him…having little, to nothing, to actually do with his children or being a dad. I suppressed those past-influenced thoughts at his story and convinced myself he might have really been being genuine here…after all, he’d been a great dad for 10 years from 2,000 miles away…hadn’t he?

So I encouraged my child to discuss her feelings honestly with her dad, assuring her that he would not be angry and that I knew he would respect her feelings and make some of their limited time together just daddy-daughter time. I told her that I thought he would even feel extra special to know how much time having time with him really did mean to her.

No. Although she’s the overly criticized child, fearful of upsetting her father or disappointing him more than she already did daily by just being her own, wonderful but imperfect of course, self, she braved this conversation! And he didn’t even acknowledge that she had spoken. He ignored her completely although she knew for certain he had heard her speaking. She waited a few days and hesitantly mentioned it again, Daddy, I like (insert name of girlfriend here), but could we see you once in a while just the three of us? Maybe have an hour with you to ourselves? He responded with an adamant and vehement, I’m not breaking up with (insert name of girlfriend here) for you.

My daughter did not understand. She hadn’t asked him to “break up with his girlfriend” at all. She did understand, however, that her wishes not only would not be granted, but that her father had no interest whatsoever in her wishes.

Which, I do understand. After all what I’ve failed to mention here is that this wasn’t just any girlfriend in his long list of failed relationships, this was a rock stars’ ex-girlfriend! I mean, really, of course nurturing that relationship was to come before time with the little girl who gave up all her kindergarten friends, her happy roach-free home, her beloved school, all her other relatives, and her peaceful, happy-go-lucky mother! GOSH…there were priorities here people! Because having your dream job of big power, absolute financial security, an obnoxiously extravagant home, all of your childhood friends and relatives close at hand, you ex-wife under your total control, and (finally!) your two children too, could never be satisfying enough. You have not actually “arrived” in life until you have the ultimate ego-inflating status of dating a “rock stars’ ex-girlfriend”…and that delicate factor of this complicated equation must, without question or hesitation, then be put above all, since without that part of it, you’re still just not totally convinced that you are absolutely and unequivocally THE man.

You all understand, right?

Yeah, me too because here is where I snapped. And I mean snapped. Enough. No more attempting to reason with this man. No more making up flimsy-ass excuses for him that my children weren’t buying anyway. I merely shoved aside 10,000 roaches to sit on my formerly comfy (and sanitary)sofa, phoned up the ex and said, I think it’s best we go back home. This just doesn’t seem to be working out for anyone except you, on any acceptable level. To which he responded by screaming, I don’t care what you do! You have 30 and I repeat THIRTY days to get your ass back there or I’m renting out the Michigan house and I’m not helping you one bit to get back there either. And I’m canceling the rental car immediately so you’d better find a way to pay for a rental car on your own.

And here is what we did (had to do): we left everything we’ve ever owned, packed one small suitcase of clothing each and our cat, and used the insurance money from my totaled car to drive back to Michigan in order to save our home. Even my daughters with all their beautiful things and all our precious life-time mementos chose to give all that up to go home and live in our safe, peaceful house, in our safe peaceful small mid-western neighborhood far away from the “Daddy”.

We drove for three days, making it a fun family adventure. Laughing through our sadness and our fears, giggling as much as possible, and talking about how we still had all that really mattered in life: love, peace, respect, our beloved home, and each other. The rest was just stuff and stuff could be replaced…slowly in time, we’d get more furniture, ipods, televisions, computers, clothing, family pictures, etc, etc, etc… Good God, I have the most amazing children!!

And after three days on the road, we finally reached our destination…HOME, SWEET, SAFE, HOME… to discover another family had already moved into our house.

My next conversation with the ex went something like this (and this is obviously a mere excerpt):

Me: the roaches really were unbearable and disgusting and you didn’t care at all how horrifying and unsanitary that was for us.

Douche Bag: Ask me why I didn’t do anything about the roaches.

Me:(genuinely confused) What?

Douche Bag( a tad louder this time): Ask me why I didn’t do anything about the roaches!

Me: (now confused AND irritated at his tone) Ummm…huh?

Douche Bag( full-fledged yelling now): ASK ME WHY I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING ABOUT THE ROACHES!!

Me: Umm…okay, why didn’t you do anything about the roaches?

Douche Bag: Well, you didn’t seem to mind living with them, so why would *I* care if you did?

Pregnant pause vs. the awkward silence

..sometimes a good idea...

I’m learning how to be comfortable with silence in conversation.  Traditionally, this goes against my natural chatty instincts, so it’s a work in progress for sure!

I began this lesson with my ex husband years ago.  My daughters and I actually often fondly refer to him as The Pauser.  He is the King of Pauses.  He knows how to utilize the effect a moment of silence can bring to many situations, as an employer, a father, a husband/bf, etc, etc…  He is so effective at this, that he doesn’t ever need to actually say words to make a person doubt themselves or start to worry and get paranoid…  even if the paranoia is about the phone signal (Umm…hello??? Are you still there?) or gets as awkward and disconcerting as frantic paranoia about the underlying thoughts in the conversation (OMG… ummm…WHAT???!  Did I just make an ass out of myself?  Did I just say the most ridiculous thing ever?  Is my foot in my mouth?  Umm….Why isn’t this man saying anything at ALL?).

Over years of dealing with the ex husband and his excessive pausing-business, I’ve realized how truly priceless it is in many situations and I almost envy his confidence and genius to both utilize this simple technique to his advantage and to just pull it off in general.  I mean, he is gooooooood at this!  In difficult or serious conversations, it’s unnerving to say the least.  In everyday casual conversations it’s frustrating and annoying.  But either way, I have to give him fat kudos for being a literal genius at this conversational method of staying one-up (or two or three “up”?) on his conversation partner of any given situation or moment. 

As a result, the man rarely needs to apologize or bother to explain his words (ever!), because he simply chooses them so carefully, it’s almost painful at times to be on the other end of these conversations and his “pauses”.  For the person who has just said something of utter importance (to them), the pauses feel like horrific awkward silences…that dreaded empty space you suddenly feel frantic to fill in to further explain, throw in comedic effect, plead for a response…whatever…anything will do; while to him, this is merely a very effective pregnant pause.  So you can gather how successful mastering this technique can be:  while he’s slowly and silently contemplating his every carefully chosen word, you tend to start babbling ridiculously, filling the space with chatter that offers even more information before he has yet responded at all! It is truly a brilliant conversational tactic in all situations and relationships for him.

I am not this person by nature though.  At all.  I’m a very open and expressive type, much to my frequent dismay in situations when I’ve said too much or said something easily misunderstood (yet again) or any of the bazillion faux pas that can arise from being extraordinarily open, chatty, and honest.  I’m training myself (via so much regular conversation with “the master”) though, to sit quietly through the pregnant pauses, see them for what they are, and not start nervously rambling.

However, I deal with this conversational silence master-mind on such a frequent (and frustrating) basis, that I no longer can adequately decipher the difference between a pregnant  pause and an out-n-out awkward silence.  I can appreciate the value of a moment of silence in a conversation and leave it at that.  I’m a ponder-er type, so pausing to reflect on either what has been said or what you’re about to say is, in theory, always a good idea. Awkward silences on the other hand are still dreadfully uncomfortable for me and I feel a responsibility to fill that space asap either to put the other person at ease (my strong southern breeding) or perhaps merely to put myself at ease…  Either…or…both…and…all of the above!  Thankfully, I’ve not had many cases in my entire life of “awkward silence”.    I’ve a number of natural tools in my conversation toolbox to either avoid this altogether or, at the least, work my way through it quickly and painlessly.  It’s just not something I’ve had to deal with much….for whatever reason…

Umm....soooooo..is it hot enough for ya?

Talking last night for the first time with Gabe, I discovered this phenomenon:  Lots of awkward silences!  How truly odd to experience this with a person whom I can write to with such total ease, at such length, and about so many different things!

Was this a “normal” first-time conversation thing?  Or was this a strange and difficult to decipher possible conversational “issue”?  When you add my chronic dealings with the master mind of intentional pregnant pauses to the mix of experiences with first conversations and dates and meeting new people in general, it’s truly hard for me to tell exactly what’s going on….  I certainly want to honor the prgnant pause types, but still don’t care much for the awkward silences…  Hmm..how to differentiate in these situations?

It was a delightful conversation with gabe for the most part and yet, I kept wondering if maybe I was ridiculous both for what I was saying and/or maybe  how I was saying it.  Yeah, I babble.  I do.  When getting to first know someone, I just don’t hold anything back really.  Well, I try to be in good taste and only discuss appropriate topics of course…  but I don’t carefully ponder my words;  I just talk… about Vegas weather, Vegas energy vibes, my love of peace frog stores, my fascination with the human psyche and the development of the conscience…and I ask questions..where did you grow up, what’s your family like, what are your thoughts and opinions on *this* or on *that* or whatever…and I always try to listen as much as I talk too.

I’m currently of the opinion that it’s often humor which stands smack-dab in the middle to differentiate between preganant pauses and awkward silences.

Ahhhh humor…..  Humor is often so difficult to convey or translate via the written word, yet rarely so difficult in verbal conversation with the added benefits of tone and inflection.  However, I arrive at three possibilities here regarding my conversation with Gabe: 1.  He just doesn’t share my (admittedly odd) sense of humor,  2.  He doesn’t “get” my humor, or 3.  He just doesn’t think anything I’ve said was funny, while I think it’s hysterical.  Or perhaps any combination of the three…?

It is the very definition of awkward when you tell a funny story and a person you don’t know that well anyway just sorta sits there in silence..  Ummm…again, we can blame cell phones for this: Hello?  Are you there?  And when we’ve determined that the signal is fine, then the silence from before and after this determination becomes excruciatingly awkward…  Ohhh…okay, so you heard me but I guess that just wasn’t funny to you…? Ummm… Okay…well…ummm…

But dammit, I'M laughing...or trying to...or was gong to....umm...guess not:-/

Then suddenly it’s no longer nearly as funny to me either….  Hmm……  oooohhhhh-kayyyy then…

This was definitely awkward and happened a few times. Seems that while emailing was a simple thing for Gabe and I, actual conversation was considerably more difficult… Ughh…   

Add to this,  that I shared a personal “experience” with Gabe that perhaps is not a gem of a situation from my distant past, but was merely in theory and therefore not actually any kind of issue past or present.  Not to mention, in my humble opinion it wasn’t some kind of dreaded confession of horror either… nothing all that horrifying overall and merely a conceptual thought at that.  Ohhh gosh, never mind..why am I being so mysterious about this?  It’s really not a big deal!  Here it is:

Once during my senior year in college, while newly married and struggling to catch up on my husband’s (now ex) difficult credit card bills, I contemplated

Yeah, yeah..I thought about it ....once!!

stripping (yeah, as in removing my clothes while dancing and accepting money for said effort) for a few months just to get the money to help pay off those bills which he was behind on when we married.  Yeah, I did

 I actually thought about it enough that I discussed this possibility with my husband.  Of course that idea was tossed out almost before I got the whole thing out of my mouth in a conversation with the husband, but I confess, I did truly and sincerely ponder doing this once.  I was pretty much laughing at this little confessional story…or starting to….  When I get the….DA-DA-DUMMMMMM…

Big fat silence.

Hmm…..ohhhhhhhkayyyyy…

Awwwwkwarrrrddd.

Make out or Macrame’…hmmmm…

Vegas!

Whoa… Vegas is crazy!  It sucked the writer out of me there for a minute…but I’ve collected my thoughts as much as is possible given the randomized, sporadic pattern of said thoughts and I’m getting back on track!  By the way, “collecting my thoughts” is one of my favorite phrases…like snatch and serendipity, I just like to say/think/write those words as much as I can possibly squeeze them into my vernacular!

After last Thursday’s date with Mr. Nurse, as well as some interesting thoughts from a few other blogger/daters, I’ve re-worded both my “looking for” and “write me if”.  I’ve opted to remove all of the potential “romantic” element and merely post that I’m looking to meet “friends” and friends in the literal, not trendy (FWB), sense.  I did this after my date with Mr. Nurse because although Nurse-guy was a handsome, intelligent and fairly fun guy, it became pretty clear to me around midnight of our date that his intentions posted on the dating site are possibly not entirely truthful.

After a great afternoon hanging out on the strip for coffee and chit-chat, he invited me out later that night to an open-mic night at a little dive bar in his neck of the woods.  Nurse-guy likes to sing and play the guitar.  Awww... I loved this!We were having a delightful time at this shin-dig!  I met a few really nice people and heard some great music.  Around midnight, Nurse says to me, “Are you ready to go?”  I’m definitely ready to leave, eat, or go somewhere else at this point and I assume this is what he means; “ready?” as in “ready to leave?”

Yes, I am.  So he walks me to my car, where he kisses me and then basically invites himself over to my house.  I’m not against this entirely, but I’m a little suspicious at the way he maneuvers this…something just felt “off”…  I want to assume the best though; he seems super nice.  I tell him that it’s no problem to come over to my house to watch movies (my idea) or maybe go into the hot tub (his idea), whatever… He responds to this with, I’m not looking for a relationship, you know?

Hmm…..the timing of this really just struck me as strange.  I mean, what does that have to do with anything, unless maybe you’re making some assumptions about what I really mean by saying you’re welcome to come over?  I really don’t see the correlation between let’s hang out at your house….yeah, okay…straight to “but you should know I don’t want a relationship right now.”

I’m not sure I’m following this train of thought…?

Anyway, he’s following me to my house, when I start getting a little worried about how this all connects…and I start doubting my choice to have him over at this time of night, after a few drinks…

Once we get to my house, he’s cool.  He starts kissing me and clearly wants to make out.  Umm…call me a tramp, call me Suzy Floozy, yeah whatever, I’m perfectly okay with the making out business.  Hell, I like making out…  I kinda wish there was a making out version of speed dating. 

Speed Making-Out? Who's in?!??

I’ve never been speed dating, but I’ve heard about it and I like to make out so much that I think there should be a speed-make-out thing.  You would get 5 minutes with each “match” to make out and if you both enjoyed it, you could exchange information and decide if you want to get to know each other more and/or maybe just make out a second time…  The safety of this is it’s in a public place with a definitive time limit. 

…because making out with a relative stranger, in my house, for an extended period of time started to freak me out a little.  Not that this is Nurse-guy’s fault.  He wasn’t way out of line or anything…I just started to get a little nervous…  Maybe I didn’t trust him? Maybe I didn’t trust me? And maybe the just-prior-to-coming-over “no relationship” proclamation just made me feel too weird and suspicious?  I don’t know for sure, but I really felt the making out needed to stop and that he should go home. 

…and he did without a problem. So, all was well.  I just had a nagging discomfort that I couldn’t quite define or get past.  So, I re-worded my profile to specify friends only, which isn’t entirely true, as ideally I’d like to meet someone date-able and I’m still undecided as to the relationship thing.  I’m certainly not totally against it, but I’m not necessarily looking for a heavy-duty one either.  Hmm…it really makes me question if I’m even ready to be dating?  I felt uncomfortable with someone I had great dates with who pushed the relationship aspect and I felt equally uncomfortable with someone who was so willing to take it physically as far as I might allow who plainly stated he wasn’t ready for any kind of relationship.   What does that even mean?  What am I even looking for here again?  My thoughts were scrambled as I hopped in bed after Nurse left.

 I’m probably not ready because I’m not sure of the intimacy threshold or physical boundaries within the smack-dab-middle of the options here.  How can I not be sure of even my own boundaries?  And what does that even mean?  Check-list time:

Option one:  Friends who date.  If we hang out as friends who date and there’s an attraction which understandably gets physical, where is that boundary?  There’s no established prior friendship to dictate that.  So if it doesn’t get physical, would we really continue “dating”?  And if it does get physical, then is it beyond friends?

Option two: Just friends.  I’m questioning whether this is a valid option on a dating site at all.  With the popularity of the trendy FWB thing, I somehow am having a difficult time buying into the possibility that many of the guys who write me are truly interested in hanging out with me indefinitely as friends.  If there’s an attraction, then it’s probably going to be acted upon and push the limits of “friendship”.  If there’s no attraction, how often will said guy really want to hang out?

Option three:  Friends who casually date and engage in sexual relations.  Okay, this is pretty much FWB, right?  And I might be okay with that (maybe) with someone whom I’ve known for years and have an established  meaningful friendship.  However, in a new city where I don’t know anyone, that’s not an option….  And aside from that, then it’s basically just two people hanging out and having a casual sex thing, right?  And while I don’t necessarily see anything wrong with that under certain circumstances, I’m not sure I’m okay with that right now either.  It might make me feel rather cheap and/or used. 

Ew.  Which is kind of the feeling I was getting from Nurse-guy…and I didn’t like it.  I really  shouldn’t think that, as I can’t say for sure what his deal is/was.  He was respectful and seemed honest.   I only know that something felt odd for me and that suspicion could very well be it. Something was just off for me in the whole timing of his inviting himself over and immediately saying, I’m not ready for any kind of relationship. That’s okay with me and yet… hmmm?   

This is my brain on online dating" pink, fuzzy and I can't know what might roll!

It makes me realize how fuzzy the whole concept is even to me!  Like, wow..ummm okay, me either, but I wasn’t going to rule it out immediately.  Thinking I’m in more of a let’s just see how it goes place.  Once he firmly established that wasn’t what he wanted, I can respect that, but then to come over and immediately jump into mad-make-out?  I guess if I already knew I didn’t want any kind of relationship, my thoughts about “hanging out” at midnight at someone’s house probably are in the literal sense of cool, let’s hang out as in yay…let’s watch stupid movies, let’s discuss global poverty, let’s color in my Alice and Wonderland coloring book, let’s do yoga, make Rice Krispie treats, knit matching scarves, sing karaoke to cheesy 70’s ballads…you know, hang outIf we’ve established the entire relationship-stance on date one at midnight, then: 1. The mystery is already gone. And 2. I feel a little cheapened to make out with you, at least the heavy-duty can’t-keep-my-hands-off-you making out.  We can keep it light pal or we can go passionately macramé a few exotic plant hangers…your choice!

Macrame' might be fun!

Am I totally contradicted?  Yes, perhaps… and you would not be the first to accuse me of this in my life.  I’m sure that’s surprising, but it’s true.  I’m nothing if not a total and chronic contradiction.  Yeah, and just so you know, when I’m not having crazy passionate one-night stands (after all, that’s as long as they’ll usually “stay”) with that aspect of my personality, it frustrates me too.  It is what it is though. (Insert Popeye here) So, I do feel for how this must play out to others, but it’s also the one aspect of my personality on which we can always depend.

So, I wrote nurse man the next day that I enjoyed our day, but that I felt confident we weren’t a match as friends or otherwise.  This threw Nurse off a little, as I received a “WTF?” response, but except for trying to pin-point where I stand in relation to all of this,   I’m so over the Nurse thing already.  He sucked all the mystery out and then tried to suck my face…and (ahem)other personal areas as well.  No.  It’s been decided. Moving on…

I’m emailing with several people now.  A few are in the pushy let’s-get-together-yesterday category (I’m intentionally taking those excruciatingly slow) a few are in the entirely questionable (I’m mostly being polite) category, one is in the borderline stalker-already (he’s just about to get the “block” ewww!), and two are…ummmm…wait for it……wait for it…

Intriguing and delightful

Seriously.  One fave, I’m way excited to meet and the other, I’m not sure I’ll meet anytime soon if ever…?  Only time will tell!  However, either way, meet them or not, I do know I truly adore them both already!

Cupid, please protect me from the bodily fluids?

Followed my blogger friend’s advice  (Vendetta ) and finally ventured out of the pond and into Cupid’s area of target.

I create my profile throw a few pictures on there.  I didn’t really put much effort into this…perhaps my gusto is dwindling?  …but I did it…yayy! 

At first, I was worried that it would merely be exactly the same as the pond I was already in since it is free as well  and I was pleasantly surprised to find it is a bit different.  It seems to do more specific compatibility matching.  I browsed around a bit.  Found one guy who’s face drew my interest, so I read his profle..and I was pleasantly surprised.  Had a little intelligence, far exceeds my height requirement, demonstrated some possible insightfulness, and a bit of a sense of humor too! Hmm….  Nice.  I wrote him.  I rarely write anyone first, but just had to at least tell this guy I admired his profile.  We’ve been writing/texting/chatting ever since and since he works third shift as a nurse, we have planned to meet Thursday afternoon at a popular bookstore for coffee and book browsing.  Can’t believe I’m almost excited about this.  No seriously, I just about am…until flashes of Zep, M, Lingerer, and Mr. PhD come flooding at me and prohibit my ability to actually get *there*..to actually be enthusiastic.  Yeah, it’s clear my optimism has diminished significantly, but HEY, at least I’m still going and trying!

From only a few days, I’ve seen a few differences between the sites.  I haven’t documented these of course, but what I’ve noticed as a general trend in my short time

Starting to feel a little like this gal...just around the edges though!

Seems the Cupid pairs me with younger men far more often than the aquarium.  Or is there merely a larger crowd of the younger ones over at the cupid?  Don’t know, but I’d guesstimate that my “matches are generally in their late 20’s and early 30’s.  not sure how I feel about this as in “matches”, but if I find the match attractive, I at least go peek for some reading material.  I’ve seen a few quality photos with quality profiles…read all the way to the end and then get my feelings hurt!  I’m too “old” for their requirements…OMG…  No, not every single one, but geesh…enough that it’s starting to make me feel olllllllllddddd.  Like being single with two children, having no friends, and speeding toward 40 isn’t enough to make me feel like I’m ancient already, Mr.Cupid has to have a sick sense of humor to continually “match” me with guys whose age qualifications I exceed.  Thank you Mr. Cupid you sick, twisted son-of-a…

I swear, this isn't me at ALL...yet...

This should be against the online dating law, I tell ya.  It’s cruelty to we getting-old people and particularly for we getting-too-old-and-irritated-at-dating-in-general-people!!  The first few didn’t really bother me so much, I’m like, ahh well…no big deal.  Then after a few more, I’m like umm…what the hell is this, then after a few more still,  I’m like okay, this is starting to hurt my feelings.  Geesh, I’m not THAT old for crying out loud.  I firmly believe this should and could be tactfully avoided by the I’m-sure-above-average-intelligence-Cupid-engineers/creators…those sick mean bastards! I mean with all this ‘”matching” they’re doing, how easy is to be eliminated from my matches if I don’t meet the criteria?  Should I even be their “match”?  I don’t think so.  Gosh, I’m just at that age where I’m still young enough to be in denial of my growing older status, but old enough to mostly only want to date appropriately aged men.  What am I going to do?  Write a bunch of me saying, hey I’m a little older than you are seeking, but dammit I’m still hot?!  My age-pride is still enough in tact that I refuse to approach in writing or otherwise any man who prefers a woman even one year younger than I.  But I’m old enough to be thinking, dammit, I must be really getting OLD…ughh!

Another interesting point I’ve noticed on both sites is that in general, my “matches” tend to be less attractive.  What are those odds and how are they arrived at?  Is this perhaps because I focus less on talking about the importance of looks in my profile?  Sure, looks are far from most important to me,  but gosh they don’t have to throw me all the one’s who look like they’ve been ridden hard and put away wet either!  Intelligence and personality are mandatory traits, but personality has got to be difficult to determine via these, doesn’t it?  I like that cupid throws in some IQ-like questions in their ongoing “questionnaire” to find “better match”.

My list of criteria:  1, Intelligence/personality (these are closely tied for #1), 2. Sense of Humor, 3.  Strong moral character 4. Height (neither site allows this as a mandatory prerequisite for matches though).

It’s promising already that I’ve had a higher number of “tall” responses and interests at Cupid by far.  Is cupid the site of taller, but younger (and often seeking even younger) singles?  That might be a contradiction for me…

Another question….should I change my “interests” to “everyone” since more than anything I hope to meet friends?  I browsed like this for a few minutes yesterday and came across some really strange profiles in the “everyone” category.  Can a guy with the screen name “pisscumlover” really become a dear friend to me?  Could we cultivate a lovely go-to-lunch-and-have-wine-n-movies-nights friendship together Mr Pisscumlover and I? Gosh, Maybe Mr. Pisscumlover really wants to make friends too?  I don’t care what the personal dating interests of my potential friends are.  Really, I don’t, but am concerned as to what message I’m sending out f I bravely list that I’m “seeking friends, short-term dates, and/or long-term dates” from the broad category of “everyone”? 

Does that scream desperation to you? Or am I just being paranoid again? I mean I am slightly desperate to make friends,but not at all desperate in the dating category.  If I clarify that with my written words, will any “freakish” types even read my words? Or is it more likely that they’ll sum me up without reading as dating/sexually desperate/WIDE OPEN to all?  And what if Mr. Pisscumlover might potentially be my next BFF?  Am I too quick to judge? 

Another thought, should I have two sites on there maybe?  One for looking just for “friends” from “everyone” and another for “looking for short/long-term dating from just “guys who like girls”?  Might that solve this dilemma of categorizing my separate “needs”?  …Or to the person who maybe finds me in both pages, do I (again) just appear wide open and desperate to all potential scenarios and possibilities?

Hmmm…..I dunno….

I whine, I rant…yes, but the truth is I’ve already crossed paths with more than a few interesting new potentials…  So, I’m having a blast with this right now!  I just have to tone down or resolve that aspect of cupid encouraging my feeling and fears of getting/being OLD…that’s just ughhh….ughhh…ughhhhh

hey, a girl can dream, right?!

….and now off to meet Mr. Nurse for coffee….

Part II: Or how my state of bliss was interrupted in spite of my BEST efforts…OMG!

 …So having now offered a background into my nature it’s much easier for me to explain why I chose to end my relationship with M – a man I like, I respect, and I enjoy immensely.  Yeah, I’m bummed a little and my curiosity and inquisitive side is definitely nagging at me to investigate further…

And that’s exactly why I know I’ve made the right choice to end it.

It’s complicated to describe and yet so simple at the same time.

I’ve had a few conversations with M, delicately and respectfully attempting to just get enough information to make a reasonable decision about this confusion with him.  It started after the first date he cancelled (and nearly didn’t tell me).  Yeah, I understand things happen.  I also understand the premise behind “he’s just not that into you”.  Truly, I’m naïve, I’m trusting, but I promise I’m really not ignorant.  I see the possibilities.  I probably see far too many actually and I’m willing to entertain any of them  at this point in my M-relationship.  I mean, I’m still getting to know him..anything is possible.  In addition, I’m not emotionally invested, so denial (or preservation of my heart or pride) is just not necessary at this point.  Sure, I’d like to think he likes me and I see many indications that he does, but if not..whatever.

However, the trouble started after this near blow-off when I questioned whether M was liking me or wasn’t so much into me….  Honest and straight forward; totally willing to face and handle whatever his answer was.  Really, I only asked even because I wouldn’t want anyone to feel obligated to me in any way…ughhh..  that’s not a pleasant feeling.  Suffice to say, I was okay with whatever the sitch was here. 

..but M….OMG…M turned into Mr. DEFENSE after this ONE innocent question.  He started sending me pictures “proving” his whereabouts and activities.  Like, a picture of his car dashboard with a text saying, just so you know I really AM driving right now.

WHAT. THE F*$k????  Really?  Are you freakin’ kidding me?  Let me recall where I’ve once doubted your veracity ……..Ummm…..hmmmmmm??

OH WAIT…I haven’t..not once…nope..not a single time.  Well, okay, one time I thought I saw him when he was out of town, but I concluded all on my own that it wasn’t him.  I never asked him about it or thought much about it even after the initial “sighting”.  There just was no reason whatsoever that he would have needed to lie about something so silly…so I admit, I pondered for a bit, determined it wasn’t him, and went on as usual. (By the way, I still believe it wasn’t him too, but merely an uncanny resemblance.)

Therefore, this ridiculous “proving” of his whereabouts and activities has become just plain annoying and inappropriately defensive.  The first few times he did this, I laughed it off, reassured him repeatedly, and just let it go as perhaps a lingering trust issue from his previous marriage filtering down onto his current perspective.  We all carry some issues like this, so I was willing to offer reassurance to let him know I wasn’t questioning him at all, except maybe whether or not he was really “into me”. Which I asked one time only, believed his response,  and let that go too.   Again, I mean, why would he lie about liking me if he doesn’t?  I wasn’t pressuring him or making demands, I was offering him an easy out if this was the case.  Why would I doubt that?

But this other crap, this I really AM here or doing this or that or whatever, just so you know CRAP was really starting to get on my nerves.  Listen pal, I’m not some psycho suspicious, insecure chick interrogating you or even questioning you.  So let it GO already.  No.  M would not let it go and he continued to pull this crap. 

The catch-22 about this, is that the more I received this unrequested and unnecessary “proof”, the more I’ve started to question the things I wasn’t even questioning in the first place!  Reminder:  my only questions about this relationship AT ALL were 1.  Was he struggling to get past his divorce and still having strong feelings for his ex-wife, which might explain his seeming and occasional lack of interest in me from my perspective?  (BTW, I never once actually asked him about that.)  or 2.  Was he just not that  into me?  No crime in that…  He either is or isn’t.  I’m not devastated either way.

So this defensive garbage was just out of the blue and he was pounding me with it regularly all of a sudden. For no reason at all!

Maddening?  Yeah..you bet!  I don’t enjoy feeling like I have to reassure him that I believe him when I’ve not even entertained such questions in the first place!

I went along with this for a few weeks, assuming it was a past issue and after a few reassurance sessions, he’d get past that and stop treating me like some psycho chick. To be totally honest, this whole process alone was making me start to feel mistrust and question his random defensive tactics.  The very thing he was already trying to quell…he was, instead, creating.  And I did not like it one bit.

So yesterday, after thinking it over a little, I just decided this is what I don’t want to get snared into.  This isn’t me.  I don’t know why he’s doing this and I clearly can’t simply ask because then that might actually give him a reason to be defensive and thus, continue this maddening behavior.  I’m not that girl.  I refuse to be.  This situation gave me no other option but to end it.

So I text him that I really feel there’s an imbalance of some sort going on, that it was making me increasingly uncomfortable.  I was sorry he misunderstood me so much to think I mistrusted his every move and word.  That I liked him, but this seemed to just not be working and with his overly defensive actions, I didn’t even feel comfortable trying to get to the bottom of it all or communicate about it openly.  Wish you the best…sorry it didn’t work out…blah, blah blah…

And guess what?  I receive a response message with a picture of him at the Canadian airport and a message saying, It’s 7 AM in Toronto.  I’ve been here since Tuesday.  Drove back from Phx Monday. The finger is pointing at my blue shirt.  Ok, (Kay) I guess it’s getting weird for me now too.

WTF??!!  Are you kidding ME???!??  Now, that’s it.  Truly..that’s just it.  I respond, Listen M, I’m not having yet another lengthy conversation via text.  It’s just silly under the circumstances.  So I’ll email you.

And I email him that I just don’t understand his defensiveness given my lack of questioning OR suspicions, but that it has boxed me in to a place where I feel I can’t ask anything at all and that goes against my nature and makes things seem strange which I otherwise wasn’t even wondering about. SO what I know for a fact is that he’s gone over 95% of the time and our actual communication gets less and less.  Being that my whole point of meeting anyone was to have a person to spend time with in a strange city with all kinds of extra time I’m not accustomed to having, that whatever the reasons were or weren’t behind all this strangeness, the relationship wasn’t meeting my needs on any level…and was quickly getting to the point of frustrating and just flat-out ridiculous given the totally casual nature of the whole thing in the first place.  Period. The end.  Again, I like you and wish you the best in finding whatever it is you’re looking for…So given the facts alone (because I’m not presumptuous by nature), I’m going to chalk this one up to bad timing. Good luck, take care, etc, etc, etc…

And a few minutes later, I receive this text (minus any “proof” photos thank GAWD)” Re: Email:  I’m not going to try to explain as that apparently is defensive…that’s how it looks.  You’re a great woman and I wish you the best. M

OMFG….  Now, I seriously never want to communicate with M EVER again.  The freak is even defensive about BEING DEFENSIVE.  He’s clueless and is clearly having an entire relationship in his own mind that bears zero resemblance to what’s actually even happening, being said OR being THOUGHT.  Yeah, this is the type of shit that makes a calm, peaceful trusting person get PSYCHO.  NONE of it adds up and EVERYTHING I say or explain merely is another accusation I’m NOT EVEN THINKING.    OMG!!!

That’s an effed up situation and my inner peace has been disrupted too often and way too much at this point for what the relationship was actually providing.

Bye-Bye Now.  And good riddance!

Proof that most men can NOT handle a healthy, balanced woman, healthy open communication, or a relationship with casual expectations. 

WTF?!  I am too irritated to even DATE now.  I let this freakin insanity go on way too long beyond my personal comfort zone.  And I am PISSED that I allowed myself to get sucked in to the whole stupid and unnecessary thing.

ARGHHHH UGHHHH ARGHHH.  Stupid men better just steer clear until I process through this utter STUPIDITY and get to the place of blissful relief that I finally just refused to deal with any of it and ended the whole stupid thing.

On my mind, but not my heart

Having gotten some excellent comments on the M-phenomenon from my fave bloggers here, I’ve come back again and again to something.

Four years ago I split from the absolute and only love of my life.  It was horrible, soul breaking, heart wrenching, mind and life altering, painful, confusing..  Every day that I woke up (well, the nights that I even slept, that is) from that point forward, it all felt so wrong and unnatural, like a split from literal reality had occurred.  Had the chronic unshakeable sense that I was in the midst of a nightmare which couldn’t possibly be actually happening, but that I could not wake from.  Horrifying on a level which I never even could have imagined was possible prior in my life..even after two divorces…it was dreadful to say the least…

B was for Barely there...

Anyway, I met a guy, “B” maybe a year or so after this “split”.  B was handsome, funny, super nice…and he asked me out.  Well as “over” as things were with the ex, we were still very much “carrying on” in many different ways, neither really letting go, but not together per se either….  So I declined this great guy’s date request.   Strangely enough, I suddenly kept seeing this guy everywhere.  Every time I was out with friends..there he was.  The grocery store..OMG he’s here too!  On lunch with co-workers…B, too, was having lunch there!  It became stranger and stranger… and was extraordinarily coincidental.  Finally, I just decided that all signs pointed to the fact that I should at least try to go out with him a few times.

For three months, it went well.  We had a great time.  He was truly fabulous.  I even lessened my time spent with the ex (and ceased sexual activity with the ex mostly) because I felt I owed a real effort to this guy and of course, owed him an attempt at fidelity as well.  I didn’t really embrace this time away from the ex though – in my heart and in all other ways, that was really where I wanted to be.  I was more making an effort to force that lingering non-relationship-relationship to cease rather than actually trying in this new relationship with B. 

So after about three months of doing “this” (whatever “this” was), he and I were at dinner one evening at my most favorite restaurant.  He seemed a little distant, but nothing too blatant, so I just avoided it.  I’m not nosey by nature and I really believe in respecting people’s privacy.  Plus, I really didn’t want to have one of those “what are you thinking/feeling” conversations because the ugly truth was, I had no desire to share with B what my real feelings were…being that they were not even really there..but constantly with the ex…no matter how hard I was trying to force that to stop and make my feelings for him subside.  For these two reasons, I never mentioned his being more quiet than usual and the evening went okay, all in all.

How I felt with B

The following day, he called me at work asking to talk.  I felt really nervous about this because although I wasn’t being outright deceitful to him, I really could not(and had NO desire to) share my sincere feelings with this guy..you know….they were definitely 110% with the ex and it tore my heart in two to have to keep blowing the ex off, just to be “honest” …err…straight with this guy I was seeing.  And more ugly truth here was that my plan wasn’t even working.  The ex wasn’t listening anyway and regularly “rejecting” my ex was merely getting more and more painfully impossible, not easier as I had hoped.  So, needless to say, I was not looking forward to this “talk”.  In fact, the thought alone made me downright nauseated.

So we talk on the phone during my lunch…  And he says, Kay, I really like you and I suppose there’s really no reason to stop seeing you, but I can’t shake the feeling that you’re just going through the motions of this…Sure, you’re with me and that’s nice and all, but it just seems like you’re just not really with me.  And I just want to know from you if I should bother keeping on with this.

I was stunned.  I could not say anything.  I mean literally, I could not even respond.  After a few moments of silence, he even said, Hello?  Are you still there?

I finally choked out,  I really have to go.  Promise I’ll call you later though. And I hung up the phone without letting him agree.

How could I argue this? He was so dead-on, it was scary.  So, I knew I either had to admit this (the very thing I’d been “hiding” from him from the start) or pretty much just lie straight out and deny it.  I respected him; I even really liked him.  I didn’t want to do either.  Really, all I wanted was to just be back with my ex and thus, solve the whole damned issue across the board.

…of course, I called him back later and admitted that he was right, apologized profusely, and told him I understood totally if he felt it best to stop seeing me.  He did.  It ended right then.  I liked him – I really did, but other than some guilt over letting it go on for three months, I really never skipped a beat.  In fact, my “ex” and I went to the movies and had crazy wild OH MY GAWD it’s BEEN TOO EFFIN’ LONG sex that very night…

And all felt right and balanced in the world again (as effed up as THAT truth is!), so even my guilt didn’t last as long as it probably should have…

After much reflection, this past event keeps popping up again and again in my mind.  I wonder if this is not maybe something similar to what’s going on with M now?  …only maybe this time, it’s both of us feeling this “half in” way a little…or maybe even more him this time and only a bit is coming from me?

I know my heart’s not fully in any of  this (M, dating, sex, whatever…), but my mind is in it some…  And maybe M just has a similar struggle…  What even happens when you put two mostly absent people into one relationship together?  A disconnected connection.

M is for Mystifying

Just can’t figure the whole M thing out!  As everyone who reads here knows, I like him.  I really like him. 

Umm…I think…?

I DO…  It’s just strange though.  After leaving Sunday to go to Arizona to see his daughter, M is now in Toronto on business until Friday and he texts me yesterday to ask if I want to do something Friday.  He really wants to see me.  I happen to have this Friday (and this whole weekend too) free…so Yay!  Right?  …….Right?

 Okay, it’s not like I’ve anything better to do.  And I like M.  So..what’s the sitch?  I ponder…and reflect…

My first thought after his request was to say no merely because he almost blew off our last date planned in advance.  Almost is key though, I mean he didn’t really blow it off. Can I not just let one infraction go?  The guy has never been at all disrespectful or “flaky” prior to that and he did disclose that he was having some struggles at the time.  I’m a compassionate soul damn it; I can accept and move on from that one little thing.  Who the hell am I to expect perfection?  In consideration of the amount of dates I’ve cancelled:  made up excuses to cancel, cancelled at the 11th hour or later, or didn’t bother cancelling at all… WTF?  I can’t be that girlthat unforgiving, hanging on one silly tiny infraction, holding it “against” him forever while continuing to see him!?  And yet, my hesitation has admittedly gone from zero to an inordinate 70-80% from that one inconsiderate error.  I wasn’t excited with this request for friday; I was downright reluctant.  Not cool… and not a good sign either…

So puzzling...

Thoughts:

  1. When M and I are not actually together (which of course is plenty and I’m perfectly fine with that), I just have a feeling of ambivalence toward him, bordering on apathetic even.  WTF?  I like him…so WHY does this happen??  And to further confuse things, this goes away completely when I AM in his presence.  When I’m actually with him, I happen to like him a lot.  I feel comfortable, relaxed, interested, attracted…  We laugh (always critical for me); we discuss anything and everything.  It feels so open and honest…and even somewhat natural.  It’s perfect for where I am right now.  Totally perfect.  Yet, almost the moment I’m not with him anymore, I just feel very little…a distinct take-it-or-leave-it feeling.  Like, if we hang out again, great…if we don’t that’s just great too.  Then, as one day turns into two and two turns into three, etc…this either way feeling starts leaning toward the just don’t care at all, so why should I even  bother(?) feeling.  What IS that?  I don’t feel that way at all when I’m with him.  Not at ALL!
  2. In fact, when I’m with him, my affection for him grows proportionately on all levels, exactly as it should in the beginning stages of dating someone.  So why the disproportionate and accelerated dive down when we are apart?  Gosh, in fact, that just made me realize that my feelings about him must not be growing in an average rate when we’re together because they have to jump the huge divide that was created while we were apart and then grow even more from there in order to grow or increase at all.  Therefore, they must be expanding rather quickly (more quickly than is typical for me) or they couldn’t possibly be growing at all. 

Does this even make any sense?  I mean literally?  Somehow I don’t think it does…not literally OR figuratively.

 I have to say, this has never happened to me before.  I either like someone or I don’t.  Sure, some people I might have merely a mild interest in and that’s usually pretty easy because nothing in regard to my feelings has ever grown much from “mild”.  It typically just withers down to very little or none at all.  Never – and I mean never – have my feelings for and about someone transferered so sporadically and disproportionately from barely there..to really there…back further down to hardly there, then on to really,  REALLY there…back down to not so much there at all, back up to…etc, etc…  This is peculiar and bizarre …and confusing… and just puzzling. 

 So, I start thinking maybe I just don’t want to see M at all anymore and let any feelings that are there or could ever be there simply fade to black and disappear altogether, as that’s clearly what would happen if I stopped seeing him altogether.  There’s no absence makes the heart grow fonder going on here.  And I have never liked anyone when that didn’t happen at least to some degree (obviously some cases more than others…but it has always at least existed on some level for any and every person I’ve liked in my entire life).

 I’m chronically hovering here between just letting it go altogether…thinking, gosh, this could never amount to much unless I was looking for a real relationship where our time together increases regularly.  No, I like the amount of time M and I spend.  I don’t think I want that to increase; I’m content with the current amount of time spent!  So, with resect to this strange “thing”, then it’s not going anywhere at all, right?  And that’s perfectly okay, right?

Yet….the temptation that I know actually seeing him always increases my affection and interest in him is…it’s…well, it’s just soooooo tempting because I enjoy that feeling…  so obviously I think of that little intiguing twist in the midst of my “apathetic periods” too.

"Temptation" image via Dario Infini @ fineartamerica.com

Because……… that’s it!  That’s exactly it!!  I feel tempted to see him again and God knows I fully enjoy temptation.  But I don’t ever feel actually excited to see him again once I’ve been away from him for more than a day or so.  It’s as though the temptation to experience this odd phenomenon itself is overwhelming and keeps me agreeing to it…almost unable to deny it (thus, the title “temptation”)…but the excitement to actually see him, be with him, etc, is strangely just not there…until the very moment I am actually with him… 

This would make perfect sense to me if this were a mad passionate sex thing; if the sex itself was just so freakin’ fantastic that I couldn’t resist one more time… And the sex is fun…  I mean, it’s alright.  It doesn’t knock my socks off or really make me crave more, but it IS fun and interesting and certainly  satisfying enough to enjoy…

 …But I’m starting to think the actual oddity of the whole M-phenomenon itself is more what keeps me even in it at all.

 WTF?  What IS this??

Second “update”:   After WordMan’s email about being excited to see me again and that he had deleted his dating profile, I responded.  I wrote  I’m looking forward to another Scrabble game too and I questioned his choice to delete his profile.  I wanted to ask M why he deleted his too, but since he didn’t out-right tell me he did, I don’t feel comfortable asking him.  Word man made a point to tell me and my curiosity took over.  Why did you do that WM? 

Umm…I don’t think I scored any points with WM from this, as now he’s not even bothered to write me back and respond!  Oops?? Now, what’d I do?   Geesh…men!?

Umm…about the manscaping…

Here I am!

While usually my favorite part of blogging is that I can throw the F-bomb out when ever I want to… while simultaneously maintaining my lady-like good breeding.  I must declare that today my favorite part of blogging is my (nearly) absolute anonymity.  I’m quite grateful today that I’ve not shared the existence of this blog with anyone in my daily life…

Yesterday, M and I had a variable version of “the talk”. I’m all a-tizzy; succinctly ambivalent and confused in my head about this. My thoughts, feelings, and position on our talk remain decidedly unclear, as I jump back-n-forth over the fence like a wild-eyed billy-goat on hallucinogens.

Throughout the day, we texted about random mundane topics.  I was enjoying this little bit of extra attention from M when he mentioned something that not only caught me off guard totally, but hit me in the taboo-ish area as well.  I’ve lived a fairly sheltered life in many ways.  Because of that, I am slightly challenged with certain topics which really just aren’t (or at least shouldn’t be) a big deal.  So, when M shoots this text about manscaping, I’m embarrassed to the point that I’m certain my face turned various shades of hot reddish-pink immediately upon reading it.

M: since ur the only person seeing that part right now  do u prefer shaved?

Ummm……. The fact that I’m a grown woman, who’s been married, has two children, and has been sexually active for awhile now makes my embarrassment itself embarrassing.  I’m beyond embarrassed….I feel awwwwwkwarrrrrdddd. 

13 again...

WTF?  Am I a 13 year old girl all over  again?  This is ridiculous!  There’s nothing wrong with this conversation.  It’s merely considerate and open…  I’m an adult, right?  I like considerate and open.  I should not be blushing like an teenager in reproductive health class, sitting next to the boy she has a crush on!  C’MON….this is just silly!  However, to compound my embarrassment, I am a grown woman who really does not know her answer to this.  Truly, my manscaping preferences fluctuate depending on the person, the activity, the moment, the day of the week, the moon cycle, etc, etc, etc.  I really just do not know the answer to this question. And that’s absurd, so I try to take the safe-but-honest route in my slow response:

This one is nice...

Me: I’m ok w/whatev actually…I’m free spirited n pretty laid back overall so whatev makes u feel sexiest is gr8 by me! Thx 4 askin tho…super nice 2know I’m the only one seeing that right now :):)

I mean gosh, it is nice to be considered in these matters and certainly I’m appreciating that I’m the only one at this time who’s seeing the private manscaping!  I’m also delighted that this was broached  via text too so my pre-pubescent awkwardness, embarrassment, and indecision were not at all apparent.  I mean I CAN text and stutter still…. Don’t even doubt that…but I didn’t…  I answered this one appropriately and as honestly as I’m able given my random and fluctuating stance on the issue!  Yayyy me!!  However, I’m still in the process of recovering from this awkward-to-me topic when M hurls this little wrench at me:

M: just to let u know I have a rule I don’t sleep with 2 at the same time.  And if u do or I do we can just be honest n tell each other

Me again...

Okay…of course….I mean…

What?  WHAT??  WHY does this feel uncomfortable for me as well?  Hell, I’m not good or experienced at even dating two guys within the same time frame, much less being sexually active with two!  And I certainly would have been honest with M if that had happened anyway or even if I had just wanted such a thing to happen.  This doesn’t change anything really, right?  This is my unspoken creed for myself anyway.  Openly saying it hasn’t switched what it is up at all!  Well okay, maybe I wouldn’t have actually told M…I really don’t know….but if I had chosen to have sex with someone else, I’d either have told him or simply ceased having sex with him at all…  The odds of me being comfortable having or even wanting to have sex with another while I’m engaging in this kind of thing with him are astronomical at best.  It’s never happened before and I simply can’t imagine it would start now.  I respond:

Me: ok. Thx 4tellin me…I don’t either so that’s good…n I would tell u if I did…

An honest depiction of the scene of my last "agreement", just with extra clothing here

It’s good to put this “out there” openly and honestly, right?  It’s distinctly different than my last “talk” of this nature, where my ex boyfriend and I confessed our undying love for one another and that even the mere thought of either of us having sex with another person or dating anyone else was just unthinkably horrifying and repulsive.  We didn’t discuss manscaping or anything, but then I think that would have been totally unnecessary in that particular situation, as the two of us could hardly cease our sexual activity long enough to have even that brief undying love and commitment talk.  In fact, we were still sweaty and naked on his living room floor when we did… we were clearly all good, settled, and most content with the landscaping issues already. 

Do I *really* have to sign this?

So, this is definitely different, but in a good way…  It safely covers the same respectful concept and is merely a responsible and mature agreement that I would have adhered to in my own method even without it ever being openly discussed.   So why did I feel like a deer-in-headlights, with my immediate trigger-response being to drop my phone and flee the scene the moment I read the text?  Again, it’s not like this wasn’t going to be my natural stance on this anyway!  Why did it twist my insides around like a dog playing ferociously with a rag doll?

…Maybe for once in my life, I just wanted to refrain from making any promises of any kind, regardless of whether I was going to hold to such things anyway?    Like, so yeah, I admit the odds of me breaking this agreement (even were it NOT spoken) are slim-to-none…but maybe…just mayyybeeee I might have wanted to at some point this time, without having had to break an actual commitment by doing so.  The more I think about it, the more I think if I had chosen to break this “unspoken” before it was spoken, I probably would have simply ceased all sexual activity with M as a result…and felt rather free and clear in doing so too.  But, this changes nothing in theory.  I have all the same freedoms as I had before, right?  I am still totally free to have sex with anyone I choose.  This does not inhibit my actual choices.  It just commits me to sharing my choice openly and honestly with M.  So……WHY does it now feel different?

And why…  As I was driving over to M’s last night, why did thoughts race through my head of having another “talk” with M?  A talk in which I explain to him that I’ve reflected and re-thought this whole thing; that I’m just not interested in commitments or promises or agreements right now even if  I would have kept to them anyway; and that I really think it best we just don’t see each other anymore. Big hug.  Kiss on the cheek.  And ta-ta,  my friend…  Yeah, I really did have this conversation out loud, alone in my car, on the way over there last night.  Had the whole thing planned out…

...Clearly Not having *that* talk

And then I got there… and we just talked and laughed about general stuff.  I said nothing about my car-conversation-thoughts.  I had one delicious glass of my favorite yummy wine, snuggled with him on the sofa,  and left two hours later – sans any sexual activity… he didn’t push that either and thankfully,  he knew before I arrived that I wouldn’t be able to stay for long, so there were no issues or challenges.  We just had fun as usual.  I was glad and relieved because somehow to have had sex with him last night or even just to have spent the night there with him, after the manscaping talk, would have somehow felt like it really sealed the deal.

I am Jill's confused brain

…and that might not be so good right now because I just do not know how I feel about the deal…  It’s as deeply confusing to me as my manscaping preferences!

“F” is for (f#*& that)…fageddaboutit already

I recently read on another dater’s blog (http://simplysolo.wordpress.com/2010/08/16/five-dates-with-chef-recap/ ) about the annoying tendency of people (men) to jump to conclusions.  No one is exempt from this on occasion.  In fact, I may have been playing hop-scotch with conclusions just yesterday myself. However, over the past few years I’ve been privy to become acutely aware that it’s a basic thought process for some… and more interesting even is that said “some” are perfectly okay with any conclusions they’ve formulated, no matter how “off” they might be from the actual picture.

In my experience with this, I’ve found the shorter the jump, the closer to possible accuracy.  If we use a map of the U.S as our conclusion jumping mat, then let’s say if you jump from Nevada to California, you might not be completely off, but if your conclusions are more like jumping from New York straight to Arizona, you’ve most likely lost your way with your acrobatic and overzealous jumping.

I would love to list several rather amusing and/or frustrating examples I’ve faced with this over the past few years, but I fear that kind of detail might be just boring, so I’ll go with my most recent example.

Enter F…  F and I had emailed a few (maybe 2?  3 at most?) times and it was going along the line of any average starter-emails.  Nothing spectacular…nothing bedazzling, but still mildly worthy of a bit of my attention and polite responses.  Until I jump on to read my email and see I have one from him which has gone CLEAR from casual brief email chatting (we hadn’t even exchanged numbers or discussed it yet!) CLEAR into F sending me a short email simply saying, “meet me at such-n-such tonight at 6.”  WHAT???  Meet you??????  TONIGHT???  Wow..now that IS presumptuous!  Please put down the crack pipe Eager Eddie…you’ve clearly had enough…

Ummm…if I’ve not freely shared my number with you yet, it is so very NOT safe to assume, presume, and FLY all the way to “meet me at…”  Rome wasn’t built in a day pal, haven’t you heard? And unless you’ve access to being beamed up by Scotty, you’ve got a tad of travelling there to do just yet to get from point “E” for E-mail to point “M” for Meet-up….

I’m not exactly sure why I chose to even respond to this.  Typically, I’d have thought it best at that point to just ignore this one completely….ceasing all communication instantaneously.   However, I instead chose to write him a polite email saying I would not be able to meet him that evening and I offered up my phone number so we could discuss this and other get-to-know-you-E-to-M things prior to him making such further pompous and presumptuous invitations/demands with regard to me.

I received a call from Mr F. the next evening.  Ahhhh Mr. F, Mr. F., Mr. F…tsk…tsk…tsk…

Mr. F is the kind who makes a mere conversation challenging, frustrating, and borderline dangerous by his half-listening skills which lead him to make a jump like, say, jumping from Indiana over to Russia in one fell swoop!  These massive conclusions mean two things in a conversation:  1. You must watch everything you say very carefully in the conversation or you’ll spend over half the damned conversation explaining to dip-shit why and how he’s so off base that you don’t even really know how he came to that in the first place; which in itself is not only a ridiculously lengthy explanation, but just feels preposterous altogether because the dots do not even connect.  And 2.  Because of this, as well as the exhausting task of having to carefully analyze everything you even casually say within that lengthy and frustrating explanation itself, with this very explanation you’ve most likely only succeeded in providing  Mr. Country-to-country conclusion-jumper onto yet another miscalculated and totally off-base conclusion, as you were focusing on explaining his miscalculation in the one area, he has gone off in an entirely different one…  and is still totally lost in la-la land!

This, then carries the conversation back to step  1.  ….And thus, this futile exercise in explaining what shouldn’t have to be explained anyway has become the very sole substance of the conversation itself.  Not a very pleasant or coherent one, but it’s what you’ve got.  After only a few moments of this, if you’re anything like me, it begins to feel like a ludicrous elementary school game.  That piece of paper passed around in kindergarten which said, “How to keep a dummy busy” with an arrow instructing you to flip the paper over…and the same message on the other side…and on and on and so forth.

Far worse than the painfully grueling act of conversation itself here is when you add into the mix the person who stops listening as you’re explaining…because they’re so confident and practiced enough in their mass conclusion jumps that they really believe they’ve already got a good understanding of what you said, or meant to say, or were trying to say… Ugh…these people are exasperatingly impossible!

 Mr. F.  asks me what I do for work.  Innocent enough so far that without much thought, I just tell him.  I also throw in there that I’m hoping to get away from that field because it really felt unhealthy for me over time.  (I happen to have worked in an area of social work which leads the industry in burn-out rate.  I’ve been in it for 6 years, which is 2 years beyond the average rate for the typical “I hate my job” burn-out…)  And I confess I’ve been fighting against said burn out and feel it’s time for a career switch. 

F’s response to this is, “So you’re the pessimistic type”. 

WHAT?  This man clearly doesn’t even know the definition of job burn-out, as I’m not even sure how he got from A to W right there?  I say, No, I don’t think that’s an accurate assessment, but I do think when the case load and your effectiveness feel like you’d be far more effective just to macramé plant hangers all day to give to your clients,  then it’s probably time to do something else.

Well F has already made his assessment. And several times throughout our conversation, he alludes back to my “pessimistic” nature.  Seriously, I wasn’t even having a bad day!  My glass was two-thirds full during this conversation… a little spilled in the process perhaps, but I had my SHAM WOW! in close proximity and quietly and quickly wiped that right up as though it never happened.   Hell, I had rainbows and unicorns jumping around me even as we spoke. WTF?  I was done “explaining” after the first exercise in futility, but I did offer F one bonus attempt and after that, I had no interest in explaining any further.  This guy clearly is either just not that bright, is hearing or attention deficit impaired, or over time has just become ignorant by proxy of his chronic conclusion jumping. 

I don’t know why in spite of all of this mentally futile discourse, I still agreed to meet him for a drink on Wednesday night…maybe that’s merely yet another working example of my overly-optimistic nature?  Maybe this guy just isn’t good at phone conversations?  Had distractions running amok at the time?  Maybe my thick Russian accent threw his ability to hear and comprehend the words coming out of my mouth off into another direction? 

Wait.  I don’t have a Russian accent.  Okay, well maybe it was one of the other two possibilities then…  At any rate, I optimistically agreed to meet up.

…So, I’d be out-n-out lying if I tried to convince myself or anyone that I wasn’t beyond delighted to get a message the following day from a dear friend back home telling me he was in town on the very night of my planned date with F.  No.  I was truly ecstatic.  I not only was going to get to see my friend.  Yay!  But I had a legitimate and understandable excuse to cancel with F.  Of course, I didn’t feel like telling this to F via an actual conversation.  No, I opted to text it, with a brief explanation even!  Damn, I AM a considerate soul!

You know what? Mr. “Optimistic” F. didn’t even bother responding!  Not even an acknowledgement of my text itself. Well, well, well…this leads me to jump to two conclusions of my very own and I just don’t need any circumstantial conversation around to get to them either.  Mr F. obviously is horribly pessimistic and was making all kinds of further assumptions, conclusions, and massive country-jumps by my cancellation text or there would be no reason not to at least respond with an “ok”.  I get the distinct feeling he wasn’t “buying” my excuse, however coincidentally truthful and truly serendipitous it was…and it was both truthful AND serendipitous!

Perhaps the other possibility here is that F did not receive my text?  We had not texted at all prior…I merely assumed he texts…everyone texts…right?   Yeah, I admit I jumped from Rhode Island to Connecticut with that one.  Ahem…

So bye-bye Mr. F… toodley-do pal…hasta la vista, bayybeee… Happy conclusion jumping and conversation-torturing with the rest of the online daters out there!

Please assume that's me...

P.S.  Meet me at the bull fight in Mexico tomorrow night at 6…would ya? I’ll be the one waving the SHAM WOW! at the bull… ‘k…thanks…xoxo 😉

Wait a minute….is it pessimistic that I even own a SHAM WOW! ?!