Tag Archives: hopeful

Too good to be true…or simply a blessed gift of sorts?

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Sooooo after all my dating endeavors and life upheavals since the beginning of this little project, it all comes down to the tried and true.  I met a wonderful man with absolutely zero assistance of any  dating sites.

To be totally honest, I really couldn’t blame the dating sites themselves, as I didn’t devote much time or effort into that aspect.  On an effort scale of 1-10 (10 being a great deal of effort), I’d give myself a solid 4 and even that rating would need to fluctuate between a 0 and 4, with 4 being the most effort I put into it at all.

However, I have come to this conclusion (fair or otherwise) in regard to online dating sites: the majority of men I met fell into one of four categories.  1: desperately seeking casual or kinky sex.  2: desperately seeking period (needy clingers).  3:  Just plain odd, weird, or borderline scary. And 4: any combination of the previous three.

Perhaps if I’d put in more effort or taken the experience more seriously, I’d have had better results, but really the whole thing was more of a way to meet people and experience the concept of just randomly dating in itself (which I’ve not done much of in my life prior).

I’d definitely do it all over again, though.  I had so many laughs and learning experiences that it was well worth it – disappointments and all. Hmmmm…well, after reflecting on that for a moment here, I believe most of the truly fun  part of the whole experience was in blogging and discussing it with the terrific people I came to know via this blog; without being able to laugh and share with you all, I really think it would have been mostly just weird and disappointing.  It’s you people here who made it an absolute blast…and nothing that creates that much laughter and/or compassionate support through life’s knocks outside of dating, could ever be regretted!

And so I move on to the amazing guy I met…  After going months without even looking at or checking on my dating sites and not even thinking about dating, true to the timelessly tried and true old adage, when you stop looking, it finds you.  And R certainly found me!  At around noon on a random Saturday, horribly hung-over, wearing not a stitch of makeup and carelessly thrown on clothes to go to retrieve my debit card from the site of the criminal partying and reconnecting with some dear, dear friends the evening before, I order a bloody mary to assist with my recovery attempt.  I sat on the patio, sipping my drink with a friend and making casual conversation with a group of people doing the very same and reminiscing about the fun shenanigans the prior evening.

Not able to finish my healing concoction, I returned inside to tab out at last.  Being only noon-ish, there were only 3 people sitting inside the pub.  Two were old regulars and one was a very handsome face I’d not seen before, looking fresh and outdoorsy from an early walk on the beach just down the street and not at all like he was nursing a painful hang-over! I was feeling embarrassed for this handsome guy to hear me tabbing out from the evening before, so I made a casual joking remark to him about doing the “debit card walk of shame” since he was looking at me and was within ear shot of my conversation with the bartender.  Naturally having no thought whatsoever that in my haphazard appearance would he ever find me remotely attractive nor think much of me at all except maybe that I might in fact be a party girl/alcoholic type. Yet somehow my boldness (sheerly from my embarrassment) led to a little chat, which led to an exchange of numbers and then a date for later that night.

Guy was in town from Atlanta, GA visiting his family for the weekend and had gone earlier to enjoy the beach he missed so much, and deciding to stop by this little lakeside pub for a beer on his way home.  His gentle, yet masculine, voice and soft southern accent very distinctly reminded me of my dad who passed away suddenly in March.  This surprising element (being in Michigan) put me at total ease.  His handsome looks and southern gentleman charm of course added interest and intrigue to the whole exchange.

We went that evening on one of the best dates I’ve ever had in my entire life (no kidding!!).  We talked and laughed so much the time flew by.  It felt as though he was an old friend or boyfriend from years earlier and we had all these years to catch up on life’s happenings and only one evening in which to do so since he was returning to Atlanta the next afternoon.

When he finally dropped me off back at home, I had a long, detailed conversation about my night with my roommate.  We both decided he was definitely too good to be true and had to be either married or hiding some kind of criminal past.  Guys like this just don’t exist anymore!

In addition, with the extreme unlikelihood of our ever crossing paths and the so random and atypical circumstances of our chance meeting, there was this undeniably strong and uncanny feeling that somehow my dad had sent him to me.  This guy not only does the exact same type of work as my dad had done and got his training for said work in the military just as my dad had, but his every characteristic was precisely the type of man my dad always hoped I would meet, as well as encompassed the qualities of my dad which I respect and admire with all my heart (even the whole southern gentleman thing, which is my dad to a “T”).  To add to this coincidence, it turned out that his mother who had passed away a few years earlier, actually worked at my place of employment all her life, doing the exact same job as I!  It all seemed way too coincidental to really be random at all.

I was smitten (albeit nervous because of the whole too good to be true aspect) and fortunately enough, he was equally as smitten with me.

We’ve been doing the long distance thing which is not so easy.  However, he works for a major airline and flies free, so we have nearly every weekend together, so it could be far more difficult otherwise.  After a great deal of tragic family events, I’ve taken a temporary leave of absence from my job and come to stay with him in Atlanta to get away from all the stress and pain which lingers heavily in Michigan; to find healing and hopefully a sense of peace again in a place which feels safe and healthy.

Of course, we’re still getting to know each other more with every passing day and he’s certainly not perfect (thankfully, as I’m certainly not either…hahah), but he’s definitely handsome and kind; charming and manly; intelligent, interesting, funny, and has excellent standards, morals and ethics.

We are taking a cruise through the Virgin Islands at the end of this month.  I’m so excited!  Only time will tell what will happen next and meanwhile, I’m slowly but surely falling head over heels in love!

Screaming uncle or simple abuse of the “said red”?

Uncle, I say! UNCLE!!

After meeting face to face, smile to smile, and eye to eye, I sadly have to write that Mr. Perfect did not at all maintain his title of Mr. Perfect.  Nope.

I arrived late.  Of course I did…we’ve been through that obnoxious quirk of mine already, remember?!  I received a text as I was parking, but was feeling guilty about my typical tardiness and chose to ignore the text.  This particular restaurant/bar/café has three separate entrances to each “section” of the establishment.

Here I was...

I entered the middle one, the Theater Bar, the quaint, narrow little section which boasts local artist’s work on the walls, a beautiful long wooden bar that nearly goes the actual length and almost width of this section, and charming light fixtures, all creating a casually eclectic, yet ,romantic cozy little area.

Other than the bartender, there are only four other people in the place – all males.  I coasted past them, glancing casually to see if any look like Mr. Perfect.  Nope.  None did.  And I’m thinking, What the hell?  Here I was worried about being late as usual and Mr. Perfect isn’t even here yet!  That, OR he he’s one of those guys sitting at the bar and not only looks nothing like his pictures, but brought three friends with him!

I sat down at a small table and ordered a red wine I’d never tried before.  While waiting those few moments for it to arrive, I decide to look at my text.  Oh lookie there!! …. a text from Mr. P himself.  It says, “ I’m on the aquarium side; it seemed quieter over here.”

Mr. P's "aquarium side"

Ohhhhhh……hmmm…ok…..  yeah… ok…. The aquarium side of this terrific place is the oh-so-lovely,  timelessly classy, exceedingly romantic, and  scrumptiously delicious restaurant area.  Okay, okay, okay….I get it.  You are on time,  in contrast to my lateness,  after all; you’re just over there..through that doorway only a few feet from where I was sitting.

So, now is when I walk over there then, right?  Yeahhhh…no.  I can’t.  I just can’t.  I’m nervous and I’m not walking over there with my glass of unknown red and risk demonstrating immediately upon his first vision of me being that nasty tumble/trip/clutzy maneuver which is going to dump said red all over me, the floor, or worst of all, HIM!  Nope…not gonna happen right at this moment. Can’t go.  Can’t do it.  We’ll just have to sit on either sides of the old brick wall from each other then, at least til I’ve finished my dangerously red glass of wine in its dangerously breakable glass.

So, I text back that I’m in the bar area and I’ve already ordered a drink.   A minute later, around the corner comes this guy… In hindsight, I have to guess my instant and unavoidable facial expression had to have been much like those online daters who go to meet someone in person and  they discover at first sight that the profile photo of their date was from at least  10 years and 30 pounds ago.  I mean, yeah, I knew instantly it was in fact Mr. P, which was clear.  However, with brutal honesty, Mr. P’s profile pics, as attractive as they were (and they certainly were quite appealing), had nothing on Mr. P himself! …and I mean nothing!

OMG…are you kiddin’ me??  BETTER looking in person? WTF?  Is this for real?!

Oh it was.  he was undoubtedly far more handsome in person.  Once I cleared the shock from my system at this incredulous surprise, words cannot convey how very fortunate I felt that I did let Mr. P come around the corner to me rather than Queen Clumsiness herself with her boisterously dangerous glass of said red in hand, sailing around the corner of this quaint little bar and into the elegant, romantic ambience of the attached restaurant…only to come face to face with an unexpected and nerve wracking surprise such as this.  It really could have been one horrific scene for the comical archives of online dating first- meets!

All of this is a bonus though, right?  A surprise of the pleasant variety without a doubt.  Much preferable to its counter-part of possibility at first-meets.  Yes, yes, yes…and so it was a bonus.  Except for adding to my nervous state of fear of his seeming perfection.  What the hell?  Good Lord in heaven, he was charmingly handsome, terrific physique, perfect height…..and those eyes!  Those eyes…those eyes…they…those eyes…yeah…they….his eyes…ummm…..yeahhhhh…so the eyes…they… ummm….are entitled to….I mean they require…ummmm…a….yeah…they require and demand…

A  paragraph all of their own!  Ahem….  How to describe these eyes?  Start with the basics, Kay.  Mr. P’s eyes were a rich green, bordering on hazel green-gold-brown, but with so much green opulence, you almost couldn’t call them hazel with a clear conscience.  And I’m fairly certain these were not colored contacts …the color was so rare and unique.  These eyes weren’t super small or buggy big, they weren’t too close together or spaced too far..they weren’t too high or too low on his face.  They were framed with lush, long, darkish-golden brown lashes.   But quite frankly, although yup,  I AM a sucker for green eyes anyway (guilty as charged) and no, NO photo could have ever accurately or adequately captured the stunning appearance of these eyes(well, mayyybeeee perhaps with some high tech photo-shopping), none of this was precisely WHY these eyes were so irresistibly captivating, warm, lovely, and compelling all on their own.  What was it?

I couldn’t stop looking into them until I solved this beautiful enigma.  I mean GOSH, I’ve a creative mind, rather deep comprehension of things real and spiritutal, as well as a fairly extensive vocabulary.  Surely I can look at these and pin-point what was doing that!?  C’MON!!?? What it was about them.  Hell, I’m looking RIGHT at ‘em for crying out loud!  What?  What IS it about them?  I HAD to put my finger on it damnit!  There they were – right there– looking intently at me, smiling at me, laughing with me…  For Pete’s sake!  What’s the matter with me?  Could not figure it.  Nope.  Also could not stop looking at them.  And couldn’t stop trying to figure it.

So, the date is beyond lovely.  It was a healthy balance of sharing, laughing, listening, and connecting.  Ahhh yes, just more perfection it’s to be then, huh Mr. P? You wanna play hardball, do ya?  Yea?  Huh?  Do ya? Well…Uncle, I say, Uncle already!!

This all was so perfect and so ideal in fact that after a while, even his “perfection” itself faded into the background and seemed normal….and with that subtle happening, my extreme nervousness faded back as well.  Okay, so I’m sure the second glass of said red helped that latter part some, but regardless…   It was easy and charming and comfortable and stimulating and intriguing and delightful and…… OMG!  Is this for real?

We talked of so much:  kids (he has a son), relationships, college, high school, dreams, goals, some life challenges, some happy and blessed life events.  It was just fun!

Around 10 PM (it was a Sunday night after all!), I had to go (let’s hear the collective, “awwwwwww…”).  I didn’t want to, but…..gotta do what ya gotta do…  I knew he had enjoyed himself.  I just couldn’t be certain if he’d enjoyed himself or felt attracted enough to want to see me again.  I sure hoped so, but what do ya do?

Well I’ll tell you exactly what my giggly, adoring, captivated inner adolescent wanted to do:  I wanted to  slip him a napkin note which asked, “You’re so cute! I like you. Do you like me?  Mark the box Yes or No”.

 

The scared woman in me wanted to smoothly thank him for a lovely time, give him a warm, genuine hug which lasted just a few moments too long: not long enough to be provocative or sexy, but not short enough to imply, “Thanks pal….was fun!”. You know, just a wee bit longer than necessary just to be briefly closer to him (yup, I confess, I was a bit googly) and subtly convey my interest, but not so long as to “put myself out there” like, HEY!?  GUESS WHAT?  YOU’RE HOT MR. PERFECT (please do note the absence of the quotations here) AND I WANT YOU!  The dreamer in me wanted to escape quickly in order to not face the possibility that he did NOT find me interesting or attractive enough to want to see again and leave the result of the evening entirely in question, in order to sustain the possibility as long as possible.

Here’s when he says with a big happy smile on his face (and I love this part!), “Yeah, I should go too.  Have we really been here four hours?  We have!  It doesn’t seem like it.  Time went by too fast! Not too bad for a first date I’d say!”  And guess what?  While I’m looking at him saying those words and allowing myself to slowly drink in the positive connotations of that little statement, I finally figure it out!!

His eyes….. yeah, back to that eye-thing… His eyes…  (Okay, this definitely requires a cheesy cliché disclaimer and I’m truly sorry, but GOSH, what am I to do?  I simply have to call it like it was or my blog is just a load of bullshit.)

His eyes danced.  Yes, that was it!  The light in his eyes or the restaurant lighting or the I don’t freaking know WHAT…but his. eyes.  danced. with. light. Or joy…or geesh, I just dunno……

They danced.  It was as if his eyes had their own inner strand of twinkle-lights parading off a body of soft green water!  Sparkling and dancing about… And I’m not kidding!  It hit me upside the head so hard when I finally realized this, that my don’t-you-dare- be-a-cheesy-idiot-girl filter wasn’t at prepared. Nope, it wasn’t at all prepared and I quite literally exclaimed (yes, exclaimed), “Oh my GOSH…your eyes DANCE!”    …felt stupid the minute it rushed outta my mouth.  But he was graceful and grinned and said, “Thank you”. Somehow making me not feel like it was nearly as ridiculously foolish as it sounds…and most likely was!   Yup, Cheesy Kay burst forth with the girlish exuberance of figuring out this 8th wonder of the world.

They danced…danced as if they had a little giggle/smile all of their own…danced like a teenage crush at their first prom…danced as if he adored me….danced as if his zest for life might become tangible and burst from the depths of his soul…danced as if he was a ravenous sexy beast waiting to deliciously and slowly devour me…all of the above…all at ONCE!  They just DANCED!!!!!!!!!!!

add eyelashes and imagine in motion!

Mr. P walked me to my car and I hurried in to it…purposely avoiding that good night kiss moment.

Why?  I’m not exactly sure. I did get that sense of his hesitating as in he was hoping for a kiss good night. And I really wanted to kiss him too.  But, I think mostly I just wanted to leave perfection at perfection and wait for what might (or might not) be to come…and not push my luck.

Driving home, I regretted my obviously hasty departure, realizing that if he has any intuitive sense, that my haste definitely sent the wrong message.  After all, this is my famous move when I want to AVOID the good night kiss  because I don’t want someone I’m not interested in to put me in a situation to reject him or falsely lead him on: so very much NOT the case here!!  So, I ran through my mind how to counter act my misleading behavior.

I texted him when I got home.  “I had a really great time tonight.  Thank you so much for dinner.  I really like you:)”

Yeah, I said it.  Outright and with zero subtlety.  And thus, I sat on pins and needles awaiting his response. Nervous, scared…feeling utterly ridiculous…waiting for about three minutes til I get a text from him which says, “I had such a great time with you.  I really like you too:)  Could we bake cookies together sometime?”

Can we bake cookies together sometime?  Can we bake cookies together sometime???  CAN WE BAKE COOKIES TOGETHER SOMETIME?????!!

Ummm, yeah, sooooo Mr. P is coming over this evening (tonight!) for our second date.  We are baking cookies!

Beautiful.

Challenging the very idea of perfection

Finally….an avenue from which to blog again! Yayyyy!  Sanity will hopefully be mine again soon:)

If I just skip through the past year of non-documented adventures (or mis-adventures) to present moment.  I’m proud to say, I’ve just recently started the online chronicles again – just a few  weeks ago actually.  Prior to then, I hadn’t even visited my dating sites and hadn’t bothered with reading any emails or browsing any guys professing interest in mine.

I’m only chatting with a few intriguing prospects at this time, but have had several offers to meet.  One, I did have lunch with just last Friday.  It was interesting…as these things often are.  I wasn’t wholly in to this “meeting”, but I thought, “Geesh…I gotta start back somewhere!”

He surprised me with his selection of the restaurant: definitely a guy who eats after my own eccentric flair for food.  It was a highly acclaimed local place called  Mia & Grace  …truly a lovely choice!!

He looked just like his photo, so I could pick him out of the lunch crowd immediately.  This is a bonus!  After some introductory conversation, he starts talking about the last woman he dated, that his divorce wasn’t final just yet, and how his soon-to-be-ex still felt it perfectly acceptable to enter his home any time she had the inclination, but that he knew it was really to snoop through his things.  Toward the end of the lunch, I realized the majority of the conversation had been about the ex.  Yeah, I already wasn’t so hip from the get-go about the not being divorced yet part, but this screamed of a guy who was clearly in no position to be trying to date – and certainly not so much, so hard.  I mean, of the 4 different men I had started communicating with, this guy had jumped to exchanging numbers and to meeting in person long before anyone else had even mentioned it yet!

Relax, pal.  What’s your rush?  Shouldn’t you finish your divorce first or at least be a little more emotionally divorced before such date haste?  I felt a little sorry for him though, instead of my usual sarcastic, cynical criticism.  I really wanted to grab his hand and say, “Heyyyy, you’re a handsome man.  You’ll most definitely meet someone.  Just go through the roller coaster divorce and let yourself heal for a bit before jumping the dating/relationship gun…. Ok?”  I didn’t say this though.  After all, who am I to judge his hasty desperation?  Either what it means or what it’s about?

Good luck, buddy!  Thanks for an amazing lunch!  Really wish you the best!!

All in all, not a really bad experience.  I just couldn’t help thinking though, was this really why I had a couldn’t-care-less feeling about the whole thing from the first conversation? OR, was it more because one of the four whom I’ve been talking/writing with just really stands out above the rest?  And that possibility really makes me ponder.  Before I’ve met any of these men, how can one just stand out so FAR above the rest in piquing my interest?  Sure, said profile page was just precisely after my own heart.  Said guy seems that extraordinary balance between manly sexiness, intellectual nerdiness , and artsy sensitivity…all wrapped up in a sexy dark haired, green-eyed, taller than me wordsmith with an amazing knowledge of grammar, spelling, physics and literature, not to mention the beautiful ability to make me laugh out loud from reading his emails!

Okay, okay…so he’s perfect on paper so far…. BUTTTTTT…WHY do I just feel a sense of near loyalty to one specific dating profile before I’ve even met him – or met any others I’m talking with?  Has the seeming charming perfection just swept me off my feet virtually already? How?  Why?  Isn’t this a major conflict and contradiction to online dating?  To the whole concept of “dating” in general?

Dating:  a method of physically spending time with as many promising prospects as possible in order to determine (over time) one candidate who actually fits with the other in the most categories:  in order to defy the odds of the schmucks running amok in the dating world, literally and virtually?

And yet, I confess, I just didn’t care about this date.  Sure, he was attractive and held a great deal of the qualities I would like to find in a romantic partner.  And I’ve not even MET  this other  “Mr. Perfect” yet.  Hell, “Mr. Perfect” might be nothing like his profile and worse yet, there could just be no chemical attraction!  Why would I almost literally shut myself off to even a slight possibility with another decent candidate who has already asked me on a real-live date?

Well, Mr. Talks About His Ex Incessantly sure made this an easy cross off my list experience, practically within the first ten minutes. But I really wasn’t open to giving him a chance anyway, long before he made it so easy not to give him a chance.  And that truly perplexes me.

Regardless, easy it was! So,  I realize over and over, that I really just suck at the very concept of “dating”.  It almost goes against my grain and nature.  If I like someone (obviously even just in virtuality), then I just like him.  At that point, I have to force myself to even communicate with anyone else and a physical date is an almost painful push into the let’s be logical here arena.

I mean, GOSH, there’s even another very handsome local guy who keeps writing and texting and asking me to meet.     In fact, this other guy might be technically more traditionally handsome even than my current Mr. Perfect prospect.  Yet, I keep blowing off his invites with some pretty pathetic excuses and half the time I don’t even respond for several days to his communication initiates.  Just can’t muster up an interest or see any purpose when held up in the light against Mr. Perfect’s ideal qualities and bonus points.

What IS that?  Shouldn’t I be excited to meet as many qualifying candidates as possible in this sport of dating?  Shouldn’t I at least attend the previews of a few interesting movies before deciding one I haven’t seen is my absolute favorite?

I don’t know.  This whole “Mr. Perfect” guy…ummm…GEESH OH PETE….  I keep waiting for him to say something, ANY thing that doesn’t just delight or intrigue me beyond sensibility.  No, really, every time I open a new email or read a text from him, I think…..Okay, here it comes.  It has to.  Because he can’t possibly be actually perfect.  Not a possibility. I’m not perfect…no one else can be either!  So with each and every communique at this point, I know he has to demonstrate something less than my ideal. He must!   Even if it’s not a deal breaker per se, but SOMETHING.  I almost WANT him to do this – mar the image of perfection he presents so far – for several reasons.  One, I’m nervous as hell for a guy this “perfect” to meet me and be total witness to my inevitable and perhaps  overwhelming imperfections and  I’d have some ammunition going in if he’s already short at least a quality or aspect or two.  Secondly, everytime he fails to show me an imperfection of some kind, I am forced to face my literal terror of actually meeting a great-for-me guy.  What would I do?  There is then such a blatant possibility of my following my traditional time-proven M.O. of  sabotaging these things.  And I’m slapped in the face with how deep my issues and fears really go.  Something, I really prefer to (deceitfully?) convince myself I’ve worked out and conquered. And I can live in that pink bubble as long as there’s something wrong with THEM.   This guy terrifies me…and we’v e not even met!  Yeah, terrified is an accurate description.  He makes me feel giggly and excited, intellectually challenged, admiring and self-confident,  hopeful and enthusiastic…and utterly TERRIFIED.

Although, he did FINALLY tell me one less than perfect (for me, at least) quality just yesterday:  He’s NOT a huge football fan like I.  Wait….WHAT?!!  What the hell is going on here?!  How can that be, Mr. “Perfect”?  And as an avid college football enthusiast, just how far can I go with THAT little tidbit of imperfection.  I can see the desperate measures already:  No, Mr. Perfect, I cannot go to the museum with you Saturday!  Are you kiddin’ me?  OMG….there’s a game on!!!  Don’t be ridiculous.  I’ll be watching the game like every other self-respecting human being in America, watching it with fellow football LOVERS….uhh…GEESH!!!  And surely this massive imperfection might lead to other, oh-so-practical and legit excuses for other possible “issues” this little conflict will inevitably create.  Right?  Of course!  After all, I love football; I know how to take that ball and run with it!  Psh!

That said, I’m delighted to say that I’m meeting “Mr. Perfect” today!!!  Yup,  fully armed with my you-can’t-possibly-be-my-idea-of-absolute-perfection ammunition.  Phew…just in time!  And the question becomes, upon meeting him in person, will Mr. Perfect give me more ammunition with which to battle  or will he charmingly stomp all over the meek supply I’ve managed to dig up?

Never mind that his random suggestion of meeting spots just happened to be my FAVORITE place in a 100 mile radius of my town.  And no, I hadn’t told him how much I loved that place or ANY place!!  GOSH, this guy’s tough to smother in my issues so far OR clobber with my baggage….yet.

I’m sooooo excited…and so very nervous!

EUREKA?!

Haven’t been on any dates lately, so I’ve not much on that to update….  Have had several lovely offers, but just not feeling it really…

However, I made an interesting discovery today which is both perplexing and somewhat comical to me…we all know how strange my sense of humor is though…hehe 🙂

ahhh geesh...did my kids throw their garbage on the ground?

Cleaning outside around our pool area this morning, I came across this tiny little shiny gold thing…really shiny…like..well, like sparkly gold!  No one has been out there hanging out in weeks so I’m curious of course.  I pick it up…..  Couldn’t really figure out what it was at first….I’m thinking, a candy wrapper from the kids or something…?

No.  that’s not it.  It has a tiny section of writing on it…but I can only make out one full letter…umm….it’s an“M” in black….umm…????  WHAT???  I’m pretty sure it’s…it’s…noooooooo…it’s not possible….ummm…it’s…nooooooo…

WTF??

And I’m aghast!  Truly, ummm….this isn’t possible.  There’s no way….I must be mistaken, after all it has been awhile…

It’s a small corner section of a condom wrapper!!  WTF??!  That can’t be!  No one’s been out there “getting busy” since I moved here three months ago.  And I mean no one!  In addition, it can’t have been out there for very long (before we moved in?) either because I’m out there by myself at least once a day for a few moments and I’m certain I’d have noticed something so shiny and bright that it looked like jewelry if it had been there for any length of time…

Could it have blown from a neighbors’ garbage out on the street…over and above the cement walls dividing our back yards….  Ummm….that seems highly unlikely, bordering on impossible.  So…what in the hell is this…?

You have GOT to be kiddin me...

Umm….seriously, WTF?  So of course I ponder further…. Hmmmmm…. Other than swimming with the Lingerer (months ago), no man has even been out there at all….and NO man since I moved here has been out there in a situation to need a condom!

Wait…

Mr. Nurse was out there checking on how to get my hot tub going since I haven’t used it yet…umm…..  But…I wasn’t even out there with him.  We weren’t making-out out there at all…Ummm……….

OMGOMGOMG!!!! Is it possible that Nurse-man was so certain he was going to get “lucky” that he put on a condom in advance?????

That’s a disturbing thought…truly…extremely disturbing!  However, it does explain my weird “feelings” when Nurse-guy was here….OMG!!!

Ughhh…you have got to be kidding me!!!  And don’t you even think that the irony of the “M” is at all lost on me…hahahahahah…life really does have quite the sense of humor, doesn’t it?

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….

Nude blogging and other confessions

I'm a (tastefully) nude blogger

After the date debacle that was Friday’s experience.  I was wholly unprepared to hear Saturday suddenly from Mr M.  Mr. M and I have emailed for a while and recently exchanged cell numbers, but I hadn’t heard from him in a few days.  Yesterday, he texts.  First, he says hi and introduces himself.  Second, he asks if I have any pictures to send from my phone.  What???  I almost start laughing.  Before I can respond to this, he sends through the picture; the bathroom shot.  And suddenly, the clouds In my antiquated brain functioning part and like an epiphany, I finally get it!  Maybe these guys asking for “another photo” to be sent from my phone are truly just looking for that picturethe picture

Am I the only person on earth who does not have that bathroom self portrait on my phone primed and ready to send?  …The only person in existence online who doesn’t keep that popular photo hovering out there in technology land just waiting around to be hurled through time and space from cell phone to cell phone?  My daughters have a literal ton of these photos and I see them everywhere on their friends’ Facebook and Myspace profiles.  The truth is, because of this, I just feel I’m over the age limit to indulge in such a thing.  In addition, I just feel completely ridiculous taking one like that.  I don’t know why.   I don’t think it’s terribly odd to see this photo of other adults.  I just feel awkward posing in front of my bathroom mirror, cell phone in hand, making sure any kind of “incriminatingly” embarrassing bathroom product is taken off my vanity, saying to myself, “Say CHEESE”, and snapping away.  I really can’t explain just why that feels so strange to me.  There’s nothing wrong with it, right?

I also can’t seem to shake that overwhelming curiosity as to why this is a seemingly common request/requirement.  Is it nervousness at wondering if they’ve seen a true representation of what I look like?  Is this popular photo now the considered the missing link of online dating?  That one photo which ties it all together, clears up all ambiguity, and provides the irrefutable proof of what you really look like?

Well a couple of things here:  1. I’m not taking one at all.  I’m just not going to for the reasons I’ve explained above. And 2:  Not gonna do it because everyone else already has.  Also, at this exact moment, I was sitting in the nude, writing in my blog…(yes nude. .. I like to be naked when I’m home alone.  You’ve just no idea the joy I get from not having my clothes on) and call me unreasonable,   call me whatever, I will not get dressed at this very moment, hindering my current nude-enjoyment, just to take the picture.    Unreasonable bitch?  Why yes, I suppose I am!

However, I compromise (again) and add him to my FB, where I’ve plenty of photos to help decipher the missing link of online dating.  His curiosity seems satisfied with this compromise and he asks me for a meet-n-greet for coffee.

From having been up till 3 AM Friday night, just the night before…obviously not due to the fun I had on my date…  I was hesitant to agree.  Also, I confess, the practically instantaneous rejection from PhD midget man …umm…less than honest guy…my self- confidence has been rattled a little bit.  After some thought and back-n forth indecision, I agree to meet him in an hour.

I’m glad I did too.  He appears to be completely normal, looks like his picture, and can maintain an intelligent conversation.  He’s about ten years older than I, but I knew this and it really doesn’t seem to make a difference to me.  For some reason with this guy, the age gap doesn’t seem like a canyon either, but more along the lines of an appropriate and manageable age difference with respectful consideration to the maturity gap between the sexes.  We seem to be right on the same page!

Two glasses of iced-tea later, some regularly-paced and interesting conversation, and I have to go.   Perfect.  Short and sweet.  He offers to walk me to my car.  I like this.  I really do appreciate and enjoy the little basics of “old-fashioned” chivalry and consideration of my femininity .  For me, this is not only appropriate; it’s that little tiny extra that I very much enjoy about being a woman.

Another bonus for Mr. M., is that as he’s walking me to the door, through the people, he does my favorite date-thing ever….my most absolute favorite actually… he places his hand ever so lightly on my (upper)lower back as we walk.  To me, this gesture is the perfect balance of affection without crudeness and “ together”-ness without possession.  In fact, I can say with absolute honesty, that the love of my life guy did this regularly and it was one of the tiny things that made me adore him (and ultimately choose him) over the rest of my romantic interests at that time in my life.  It’s that little gesture that demonstrates and respects that I’m a female, yes, over and above it all, I am just a girl, without even a tiny sensation of that clingy, pushy feeling of “MINE!, MINE!  LOOK EVERYONE!  MINE!”

Ahhhhh   lovely……  I’m excited to see Mr. M again:) …and he claims he is interested in a second date (a real date..not a brief meet-n-greet) as well.  And in spite of the insecurities Mr. PhD inspired, I actually believe him.

Mr. Hot PhD…or a good book and a warm bath?

Received a fabulous invite for tonight from Mr. PhD in psychology (ooooohh fascinating!) to meet him at a concert over at a nearby casino by my house.  He’s going with a few friends and invited me yesterday.  It sounded so terrific when he invited me!  I was actually even a little excited to meet him and to go to the concert!

I LOVE the Sexy Intellectual guy.....or do I?

…so now that my daughters have gone with Jack Ass (OMG…sorry….that was rude) their inconsiderate, selfish, boorish, arrogant, douche bag of a father for the evening… (oops…really sorry…geesh…I gotta get it out SOME where!!)…..WHY am I sitting here with a glass of Cab, writing in our blog?

I mean, wasn’t the whole point of this blog to get my sorry ass back into the dating world?  …to force myself to have to get involved in dating and make some kind of effort, even if only just to have something to write about??!! Yes, it was.

So, right at this very moment, I should be tearing through my closet, desperately trying to find the perfect outdoor concert outfit, which is also appropriate “first date” wear as well.  Cute, but not childish or teen-agey, sexy, but not slutty, casual, but not sloppy…something that with lots of effort, appears effortlessly thrown together as if I’ve not a care in the world that I’m having a first date, first face-to-face meeting ever with Mr. Handsome PhD guy…

Right now I’m feeling the dating-intrigue- fatigue similar to  one of my favorite movie quotes: 

 

Dorothy, give me strength...

“I’ve had three lovers in the past four years, and they all ran a distant second to a good book and a warm bath”.

(Dorothy Boyd in Jerry Maguire)

So…….Why am I not?  After Mr Pushy (text only), Mr. Lingerer (2 dates(one date too many and 5 gazillion texts), Mr. Sorry but You Could Be My Father (One lovely date and several requests for another thus far), and Mr Favorite (I-hope-like-hell-you’re-not-a-total-freak/text only) have I already lost my appetite for this kind of slow destruction?  Have I seriously already exhausted myself of this excitement-to-futility-in-one-date intrigue?  Already??!!!!  OMG….if so, then I not only just plain SUCK, but I am a disgrace to the Ka!Pau! race(errr…blog) as well!!

This is an ideal first-date activity invite, from a guy who looks handsome in his pictures, is appropriately aged in my age group; who is intelligent and well educated, capable of interesting conversation, and shares a similar taste as I in music.   WTF is my problem??  Like I’ve anything on earth better to do tonight!

Pau!….ARE YOU OUT THERE???   

I wish you were here to kick my ass into gear…to sit here while I tear through my closet and we laugh till we cry about the million terrible,(but hysterically funny to us),  things that might happen or be said…

…to look at the goody two shoes outfit I’ll pick out, giggle right in my face, and then force me into something just a teensy bit sexier…

…and then shove me out the door and say, Have fun….I won’t wait up!

…I KNOW!  I need Red Bull….  Red Bull gives you wings, right?    Yaayyyy…off for a few Red Bulls…