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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!

Superstar vs. I think I feel a headache coming on…

So, things are going fairly well with the Twin.  I’m certainly not madly in love or anything, but I like him.  I’m learning there are some interesting issues when dating an identical twin.  I’m feeling fortunate that although he and his brother are definitely identical, they are easy to tell apart at this point in their lives, although it’s easy to see that this wasn’t always the case, as they ARE absolutely identical.  Twin brother has bad teeth and a moustache honoring the 70’s porn era.

*NOT* my Twin's look...nooo wayyy!!

My guy does NOT have these lovely identifying assets…or you bet your ass he would not be my guy at all!!  Umm…yukkkk!!!

Thus, they actually are quite different for all their crazy doppelganger-ness!  Twin apparently has some serious drug and alcohol issues.  It’s sad to see, but it’s heartwarming to see my guy’s utter devotion to his twin.  And it is definitively utter devotion!  Yeah, I’ve several whacked out stories to tell about that, but said events might require a post all their own…

This post is of a different, more personal nature.  It’s also somewhat embarrassing and delicate…  And of course, these things generate a great deal of reflection on a plethora of thoughts and opinions!

My twin is great:  he is thoughtful, not too smothering, funny at times, has it mostly together with a bit of the unwanted drama included, but that’s mostly tolerable even.  Suffice to say, he’s a pretty great guy overall.  However…  Ummm…how do I put this respectfully and without as much insult as it’s going to imply…. Hmm…..umm…..well…..ok…..ummmm…no way to put it other than just throw it out there, I guess….  It’s just that…he…yeah…he..ummmm…

SUCKS IN BED!

Ahhhhh…what a relief!  I’ve said it.  I got it out!

And, I’m not positive it’s that he really just sucks.  I mean, he was capable of seducing me and creating the desire to actually have sex with him the first time we did.  That’s not an easy task for most guys in my life, I confess. And, that was fun…until we actually did..and then it was rather disappointing, but I just told myself it was early and just the beginning of that aspect of our relationship.  He had plenty of other great qualities to keep me interested in continuing for a while longer to see how it might go.

I also can’t help but wonder if it’s me?  The bottom line is my ex boyfriend was hands down THE most phenomenal lover EVER.  I mean, that guy had the art of seduction down to a freakin’ science.  I could have a blistering migraine, be on my period, not slept in days, be starving, have the freakin’ knock you on your ass flu, and STILL…he could make me want him.  It was honest to God, THAT amazing!!  The clincher to it was in three years of dating, it never got lax or dull either.  Not a bit!  The only possible downfall to how superb sex with my ex was, was that it was a challenge to have a quickie.  You know, when you have 15 minutes to get to work and your man runs his hand across your ass…soooo deliciously that you want him more than you even care about your damned job…all you know is you. Must. Have. Him.  NOW.  But you can’t ration yourself to under 15 minutes because 5 minutes makes you want 10 more and 15 minutes makes you want 30 more and so on and so forth.

Yeah, I thought I’d had some pretty amazing sex in my day…until THIS guy…and I realized every previous “amazing” sexual experience I’d ever had before was mediocre at best.  Hmm…  Words just fall short to describe.  Yeah, I could write a lengthy post on the topic of sex with my ex alone.  After I first had sex with him, I actually felt deeply sorry for all the women in this world who would go their entire life and not know this level of sexual amazement.  No kidding, I felt literally guilty that I got to have sex with him and so many females were going to miss out on it.  Weird maybe,  but absolute fact.  Sex with my ex created a level of soul-joy that I wanted the whole world to know at least once in their lives!!

So, I know from experience that not every guy/sexual experience is going to be to that level of absolute unbelievable ecstasy…and I know the majority simply just aren’t going to ever get anywhere near that kind of skill.  I mean, thank God in heaven my ex wasn’t my first or I’d really have been ruined for life from ever being able to appreciate sex at the average or even above average level!

So, I’m perfectly willing to admit that my opinion of sex with the Twin may sadly be extremely biased.  But what do I do with that?  How do I unlearn the ex and go back to my previous standards?   How in the freakin’ HELL does one do that?!   Ahhhh….fuck!  Is that even possible??!?

If I try really hard  to give Twin a fair rating, he still falls well below average and that makes sex with him, from my perspective at least, HORRIBLE!!

yeah, sadly this *is* MY Twin in one certain aspect...

At least, I think that’s a “fair” rating?  Hell, I may not be capable of being totally fair after Superstar Lover, but I really think Twin is well below average in the sexual prowess department.  Ughhh.

Twin is probably slightly above average size-wise, so that’s not the issue at all. He’s just fast and simple.  Oh so simple…  There’s no crazy OH MY GOD passion or desire for me.  It’s more of an, ok, I guess we haven’t done it in a while, so alright , let’s do it and get it over with while I manufacture more excuses not to for the next week or so.  BAD, huh?  I feel terribly that I do this.  I’ve never been that girl before; thinking up excuses to avoid sex.  I’ve always enjoyed sex…even before my ex.  I really liked sex…. And now I don’t know any more if it’s really just my issue because sex is SO not typically like it was with my ex…OR if it’s just that my tolerance level for humdrum average sex is non-existent now OR if sex with Twin  just truly sucks that bad.

Well, this is really my first attempt at having an actual relationship with anyone since my ex and I split five years ago, which unfortunately also means it’s the first time I’ve attempted an on-going sexual relationship with anyone since the ex either.  And damn, it’s so disappointing!  But he IS a super great guy otherwise…  I love being with him, well, other than that part…

I just don’t know about long term with Twin.  Or hell, ANY one for that matter!

WTF?

Watereach: the newest, most succulently indecisive fruit-on-the-fence

It just makes sense, right?!

It’s Christmas 2011. I’ve finagled to be alone; somewhat out of consideration for my ex-husband to have family time alone with the kids and somewhat because (I confess) I really am not a fan of the holiday season. I get dark and nostalgic, moody and overwhelmed, sensitive and regretful. Yes…regretful. I crave alone time because I don’t like to risk rubbing off my pitiful aura onto anyone else’s holiday enjoyment. Plus, overall, it’s just embarrassing to me that a person with a sunny disposition as myself would fall prey to the ridiculously blue sensitivity of the holidays! Embarrassing! …and I don’t confess this to anyone. I pretend and I smile and I suck it in as long as I’m able to do so without imploding and when I’m ultimately exhausted, I just have to duck out. Take a break. Go within all by myself. Cry, pray, laugh, whatever…

I started writing about a few of the dates/”relationships” I’ve had in my time away from my blog. However, I feel uninspired. There are certainly some comical, interesting people and situations to write of; I just can’t get into it for some odd and unusual reason! I wanna spill the beans on these freaks, all their quirks, and silliness….and naturally, I feel simultaneously compelled to spill MY quirks and silliness that have reared their preposterous heads during these experiences as well…but WTF is wrong with me?! I have NO direction right now. NONE.

We’ve recently moved. So, while at happy hour on a recent Friday, I investigated my new neighborhood pubs. Directly across from the local airport and a hop, skip, and jump from home, is a little hole in the wall pub. I ring up my buddy Lar and we meet up there. I’m so very glad we did! I met the nicest lady, Janet. Janet is timelessly pretty and has a terrific upbeat, honest and open personality. She also lives and works quite close so she knows a great deal of the local folk who frequent this place. Such a great way to meet people!! I’m talking to Lar and Janet…mostly Janet… when a dark haired guy sits on the other side of Janet. I vaguely recognize him from way back in my youth as an older acquaintance of my high school boyfriend. I’m kinda nosey…leaning over now and then…listening to and poking into their conversation just a bit; wondering if this guy will recognize me at all and more importantly, wondering if he’s at all interested in talking to me. He does not recognize me and I love that! I feel really free and flirty because he doesn’t recall me whatsoever. I suffer from the “quadruple threat”; having a face, name, voice, and personality which rarely allow me any anonymity even after just one single meeting with most people. This guy not only doesn’t seem to recall me at all, but, he’s not really paying much attention to me either, which of course really raises my interest a few levels beyond mildly interested… as anything that feels remotely challenging typically does for me. Hey!! This blog is my place for bold, blatant and blaring honesty. Yeah, I’m that girl sometimes. I hate that I am…but yes, I am. I can’t resist a challenge…or anything that seems like it even might offer a challenge.

So, when Janet and Lar begin discussing something over/across me which I’m just not so much interested in, I grab the opportunity to say, Gosh, maybe Janet and I should switch places?! Janet laughs and agrees, so BAM! There I am next to the guy…Mr. (paying little to no attention to me) Challenge. Hmmmmmm….. Now I’m interested. We start chatting. I’m enjoying guy. He’s interesting and attractive, not my kind of attractive, but attractive nonetheless! He’s clearly not an idiot, has a good job, and can hold his own in a conversation with a mildly drunken, easily distracted blonde chick playing a mind game of sorts. Kudos to guy. As I’m the first to admit, this is not an easy task. I’ve got naughty trying-to-be-a-comedian-Santa begging for my attention and some young 20-something fella I met outside, buying me “holiday shots”, as if I’d ever, EVER need those!! Yup, it’s going well, really. And it’s not just the anonymity and challenging intrigue! Okay, well it might be. But, I’m not sure just yet. I’m just having a blast!! We laugh and talk and we learn that we have a major experience in common…getting totally screwed by Jeff Vanderstelt, Attorney at Law. Oh the topics of discussion….! We do exchange numbers and I don’t mention that we kinda sorta know each other from many, many lifetimes ago. I’m not entirely sure though how I feel about this guy though. I mean, once we get past the game itself, the challenge, the Oh is he interested in me or not? Excitement, how do I feel? What do I think of him actually? Yeah, I’m just not sure. He has my number. We’ll see how it goes… Guy calls me the next day. I don’t answer. I’m not sure what I think so I have to figure that out first, right? He texts the next day, Can’t wait to see you again. When are you free? Ughhh…it’s the (blech) holidays, birthdays, all of the stress, and work too…..ughhh. I keep blowing it off. ..He keeps trying and trying. Wow…how do I feel about that? I’m just not sure.

A week later, I made plans with my new friend Janet to meet at the bar for happy hour. So I text him that I’m doing so if he’s interested in meeting up. Yup, he is. Yay! I’ll get to investigate my feelings and thoughts about guy further with a lovely safety cushion of my new friend, just in case I need to blow him off and/or make a quick but polite getaway… Guy shows up. We are having a terrific time! Feelin’ kinda bad I’m hardly talkin to Janet, but she has another friend there too, so it’s all good really. This is weird. I like being with him. I’m not faking it at all. He’s not really my “type” to any extreme. He is in many ways, but he isn’t in just as many…or more. I can’t figure this out. I’m having fun though so it’s all good. He says the sweetest things and he makes me smile. His twin brother’s girlfriend shows up and she creates another interesting diversion. She’s married; twin brother has a serious alcohol issue and is very jealous of girlfriend’s husband. OH the drama! Guy just seems more and more normal and amazing as this whole scenario continues.

Adds to the confusion of how do I feel? I do not know. I can’t sort it all out AT ALL. It feels all discombobulated inside. I like him though. I do. We go to his place for a little bit so he can check on his 17 year old son, who’s actually out with friends. We make out a little. I’m kinda into this, but I’m not ready for the whole enchilada. He pushes a little too far. I got scared for a moment, actually, but I’ve had some scary experiences, so this is probably not even his fault. He does take no for an answer though ultimately. And I’m relieved, but conflicted as well. It’s not that I don’t want to. I’m just not ready for that yet.

Guy follows me home. Such a gentleman! He keeps saying he just wants to take me somewhere to have time alone, to go somewhere nice, etc, etc…. He’s very sweet and romantic. I like it. It’s perfectly wonderful. No, I hate it. It’s too much. I don’t freakin’ know what I feel. What’s wrong with me?? I always know what I feel….always! But nope, I just really don’t know. I’m kind of all over the place with this. It’s a definite yes! NO, wait…it’s certainly no… Uh oh hold on, it’s a great big absolutely positive maybe!

Hold up: Nahhh….it’s an absolutely not…..errr…umm…absolutely not gonna pass this one up?! Hell, I can’t pinpoint this to save my life! If I were a color about this guy, I’d be split down the middle: half black and half white with a section of Definitely Grey striping down my center. If I were a vegetable about this guy, I’d be half a snow pea and half corn on the cob. If I were a fruit about this, I’d certainly be half a peach and half a watermelon. Make sense now? Exactly…!

Guy and I have gone out more than a few times now. He’s asked me to reserve New Year’s Eve for him. He’s said all the right things and a few wrong ones too. He’s a bit assertive for my time and attention, but still continues to say, I don’t want you to feel pressured Kay. He’ll call every day, but often say, I hope you don’t feel like I have to talk to you every day Kay; I don’t wanna scare you off

Sometimes I get the feeling he’s trying a little too hard but then he catches himself when he senses that deer in the headlights feeling I’m sure I randomly give off when he’s saying sappy, sweet nothings in my ear that I love hearing, but I hate hearing them. And buffering them with saying, I don’t want to come off too sappy, buttttttttt…blah blah SAPPY, SAPPY blah blah blah……

And mostly I like him. And sometimes – just now and then though – he gets on my nerves a bit. And then suddenly he doesn’t get on my nerves at all, but I really like him again. And then just as quickly, I’ll feel smothered and want some freakin’ space (seriously pal, BACK OFF!); then, I’ll feel like being close and open with him. My oldest daughter met him finally. He was so nervous for her approval, it was adorable: no, adorably annoying… And she said she “really liked him”. Awesome!

Now I just have to decide if I really do… or not!

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!

Uhh Cupid, we have a problem!

So, I have issues.. yeah, issues… Luggage, baggage, psychological and emotional idiosyncracies… Ummm…whatever you wanna call ‘em. In fact, I’m pretty sure I have my fair share, your fair share, and a bit more for extra measure!
And I could go into detail about these, psychoanalyze why, who, what, and how they came about but really, does any of that matter? Well, other than making for a truly unbelievable (yeah unbelievable as in lierally, “I do not believe that’s true!”) story/post/biography, no, it just doesn’t matter. It is what it is. And at least, I’m aware I have major issues, so I hope I’m at least a tad ahead of the typical idiot idiosyncratic schmuck who is riddled with them and genuinely isn’t in touch with their own reality that something just isn’t quite “right”… That’s a bonus for me, right?
I’ve wanted to write for a while now of this great “thing” I have going with “J”… because it really is just great! Truly… However, while dealing with K’s suicide, I just haven’t been able to sit down and write. It’s as though I couldn’t bring myself to discuss trivial life matters with this blaring tragedy sitting on my heart…
But, I realize I can’t post for the next ten years on that… well, I could, yet no matter how fitting that seems to be in some ways…it’s just not and I must move on with writing of my original mission of this blog.
Dating.
I’ve been dating “J” and it’s terrific! In so many ways, he’s exactly what I wanted to find: a cool, fun, attractive, and interesting guy to hang out with/date, minus any pressure, stress or major drama… BINGO! I’ve found it! It just might be that I have, in fact, nailed some jello to the wall!
We’ve been having a fabulous time. He’s a valuable and amazing gem of a guy and he adores me… Awwwwwwwww…. No really, it’s quite precious and I consider myself a pretty luck chick to have snatched (and kept) his attention and adoration thus far.
We have long random discussions about world issues, life matters, and trivial ridiculous-like stuff. We have sex, we snuggle, and we play. We go to movies, rent movies, play games with friends. We are active and sometimes lazy. We have fun and then we are serious at times… It’s just a  super cool thing we have going on here and I really enjoy it, him, the relationship, etc, etc, etc… Yeah, it’s pretty much exactly what I had hoped to find when I began this journey/mission! Even the whole he-was-engaged-to-my-friend thing just hasn’t been a huge negative issue. We’ve told her and she seems okay with it. So, aside from some all too expected gossip from other obviously bored locals, there just hasn’t been any problems…at all. It’s been utterly terrific!

J is adorably nerdy like the character in "Juno"...what's not to love??

So….why in the hell would I want to complicate it? Ruin it? Drama-fy it? WHY??
Okay, the answer is I don’t. I don’t want to…I really, truly don’t…. but…..but…. omg… I swear I could complicate a game of freakin’ tic-tac-toe to the point of annoyance! WTF is my deal?? I can write a million posts picking on the guys in the dating pool out there, but the truth…the ugly down-n-dirty truth… is I’m not THAT much different than they when my idiosyncratic issues and frustrating-as-fuck-flaws come into the mix! Truth is, I’m a great chick with a lot of really kick ass stuff to offer a relationship, but I’m fucked… Yeah, at the nitty gritty of it all, I’m probably a bigger pain in the ass freak of nature than any of the weirdo’s I’ve written about here.
I’m so contradictory and I just can’t ever decipher if it’s the situation itself or if it’s really just me…
You know, I’m casually strutting toward the goal… I’m almost there..I can see it.. Hell, it’s so freakin’ close I can feel it; success, satisfaction, happiness….it’s there… just three more steps and it’s mine…. I can just skip along these last few feet….and skipping is so fun…
Do I throw the obstacles down on purpose? Or do I just forget the baggage that sits all around me in my excitement and then when I trip over them, I look around like “Did you just see that row of extra-large suitcases come at me outta nowhere?!” BAM! WTF?!
Because all I know is that I’m skipping along…grateful, happy, satisfied…and suddenly I trip…I trip from outta the blue, for seemingly no reason at all! I just hit this weird place, this ridiculous wall, this treacherous bump, this whacked out spot where the crazy-good amazingly beautiful planetary alignment from heaven that feels like beautiful fate falling into place just suddenly – without sense or warning… twists, turns, and flips…my thoughts, emotions, sanity get all jumbled up and I forget. I forget what I wanted, why I wanted it, and start to question if I ever even really wanted it at all…
Yeah….issues….yup…I got an abundance of ‘em…. Ohhhhh FUCK!!!
The problem here is that in the process of getting to know “J” better, I’ve also had the opportunity to get to know his friend “Jack” better… I won’t try to deny that I found Jack enormously attractive from the moment I met him. It just didn’t really matter that much because I already knew “J” and really liked what I knew. I wasn’t going to be deterred or lured away from my path to “J”. I wasn’t even interested in being deterred or lured. And then, it seems that most of my non-alone time with “J” also happens to typically include Jack. This is fabulous! Jack is F-U-N… So, I get to hang with the terrific J AND I get to hang with the fun, funny, HOT Jack…. Yeah, I’ve been lovin’ it!
And somewhere in the past few months of this, a week or so ago, I suddenly realized that I look forward to this shared time with Jack more than I care to admit. To the extent that when we are all in a group, J almost gets on my nerves….
It’s not quite that simple though because I still like J a lot, even in the midst of this mild near-annoyance thing. J is just so blasted likeable!!!! Yeah, he’s cute and sweetly adorable, kind and helpful, caring and smart. He’s definitely a total nerd…and I LOVE that!
Love it, love it, LOVE it…right up until the moment he’s held up in the light directly against Jack. Jack isn’t cute or handsome… Jack is freakin’ SEXY. Jack is the sensual “dark soul” with the sensitive side he thinks he hides so well, but actually it just gives me the urge to tempt him into bringing it out. He’s that bad ass, sarcastic, funny, tough as nails guy…mysteriously quiet, but an expert conversationalist when he chooses. And I don’t know exactly why, but we talk so easily to one another and I. Love. It!

...and Jack exhibits more of this kind of appeal....umm...OMFG!!

So, ummm…yeah, I secretly really look forward to these little spontaneous communiqués and I admit, it kinda nagged at me a bit how much I truly have begun enjoying this. That guilty feeling hits me every time “J” asks, do you mind if Jack joins us? Uhhh…nooooo…I don’t mind at all. In fact, please? Could he? Pretty please??
Okay, so I’ve been dealing with this (I think) effectively. I’ve started trying to pay ALL my attention to J in these situations and limit my attention to Jack. I’ve been focusing my thoughts during those times at all the incredibly wonderful and endearing traits of J and how much I adore him. This has worked…sorta…mostly…. Well, I was at least convincing myself it was.
…Until this past Monday. Monday, in a strange and unusual turn of events, Jack was called to my place of work for a civic duty…not something at all avoidable or by choice…totally and simply and absolutely just by chance. In fact, J had told me this was coming up and I casually blew it off. But I didn’t really…I took serious note of this information and deliberately took an off-the-typical-mark lunch hour, conscientiously and deliberately attempting to avoid any possibility of running into Jack sans J. Okay, I have this so under control here.
So, on Monday I take a very late lunch and while attempting to leave my office area, a very chatty co-worker engages me in idle chat. And she’s chatting…and chatting..and chatting… seems her husband had been called in for this civic duty as well and she’s just going on an on…and on…and on… Bless her heart! Finally, my stomach growls so loudly, I snatch the opportunity to say, Gosh, I really gotta go…I’m starving! And she lets me walk away..finally!
I’m coming down the hall, feeling so proud of how I’ve avoided getting myself into any wonderfully uncomfortable situations and as I round the bend by the elevators, my peripheral vision catches a familiar face stepping out of the elevator to my left.  A familiar sexy face with that adorable mischievous grin and that mysterious “dark” look all about him…
Yeah, it’s Jack. And what are the odds???? Seriously..wtf?!
So, I can’t politely (or with any explainable reason!) avoid this now. What am I supposed to say? Sorry Jack, I know we hang out together at least four nights a week and I date your friend, and we have become the best of friends in the process, buttttttt, I’m secretly so attracted to you that I would feel guilty having lunch with you or being in your presence without J…. Seriously, how could I say that? And how could I explain avoiding him? I so suck at coming up with on-the-spot excuses/fibs too…umm..what the hell do I DO now??
And so… yeah, Jack and Kay go have lunch together. A lovely lunch during which I desperately attempted to disguise my nervous secret with babbling silly chatter and laughed so hard at one point that I spewed lettuce toward his face. I can only say I’m really, REALLY fortunate Jack doesn’t know me much better or I’m pretty sure he’d have totally been on to the fact that something was up with me. I can only pray he didn’t though.
Anyway, it was a blast having lunch with Jack! I was flustered and attracted, and trying terribly hard to force myself out of any sense of attraction to this guy…and finally it was over. I thank him for a fun lunch and we say good bye. Me, hoping and praying that my attraction to him wasn’t blaring between the lines of my desperation to not feel or acknowledge, even inadvertently, this fucked up attraction.
I breathed a bit easier as I walked away from him. Phew…spending an hour “alone” with him and not blurting out my big secret was amazingly more difficult than I even had anticipated. Breathe….but it was over. I did it!! Yayy!! Breathe… Commence to my office and on with ignoring this unwanted, unplanned, unexpected, and unfortunate attraction to Jack..Get it back in freakin’ perspective…breathe…breathe…
No. It did not help! I could not get this man off my mind for the next six hours!!! As if it hadn’t already been a chronic challenge to keep my thoughts of him in appropriate perspective before our innocent little lunch, I was so light headed and distracted with thoughts of him now that I made more stupid mistakes in the next few hours at work than I have in all the weeks I have been there total……… because I had Jack on the brain… and sadly, I have ever since…just can’t seem to shake it…UGHH!
Eeeeeeeeeeek…OMG…what now?

Excuse me, is that a temptation band on your other hand?

I’ve been home now since mid October…back in the stompin’ ground of my youth…and beyond! A little battered, a smidge beaten even, but I made it. Dating hasn’t been a priority and I’ve not bothered to even check my aquarium account or check in at all with that little diapered-man. Instead, I’ve been nursing broken hearts, repairing wounded self esteems, and communicating regularly with my attorney in my fight for retribution. I’m typically not big on the retribution thing, as there actually isn’t anything in the world valuable enough to compensate for what has been broken and lost in this; mostly I just want my house back. That place of comfort and security which we left in July….sighhhhh….
However, being back in the Stompin’ Ground does have a few advantages of which I’ve become newly aware. 1. I actually know people here! 2. I know my way around, which minimizes my irrationally chronic fear of getting lost. 3. My father is not only near, but without a doubt, a blessing from God.
Although my focus hasn’t been on online dating, I have had a few opportunities to get out and about and meet up with people, both new and old acquaintances. I’ve come to a huge discovery in this process of reacquainting myself here: What’s up with the married men around here? Lived here on and off for the majority of my life and have had very limited (as in merely ONE) exposure to the married man hitting on me in all that time.
I move away, move back and WHAM! (No, don’t wake me up before you go-go….in fact, don’t even come over-over at all-all…just go-go before you come-come, okay?)
I am suddenly a married man MAGNET! What is this? Did living in the city of sin stamp me with a “no moral fiber” tramp stamp of which I’m totally unaware? Where are these men coming from? What’s wrong with their marriages? Okay, strike that one please, as that little question could take months for me to properly analyze alone! But… what IS up with this? What is up with me that I seem to be suddenly drawing them in like unemployed lumberjacks to the forest?
Hmmm… I might have an easy answer to that, if I were frequenting single’s bars, presenting myself as one “looking for action”, but I swear to you, I am not! The two primary contestants in this quiz-show I stumbled across in the most innocent of fashions. One, at a men’s hockey league game which I attended to watch a friend (no, not a FWB, just a friend) play and the other, during a brief trip to the mall while last-minute Christmas shopping. There I was,  in grey sweatpants and a hoodie which in all likelihood had long-forgotten, permanent stains on it from some zestfully eaten lunch-on-the-run from days gone by when passing by the Verizon store, I lock eye contact with guy-I-once-shared-one-drunken- slow-dance with almost two years ago.
I’m not without any vanity, so yeah, I was embarrassed to see him (even just in passing) while in such an inappropriate state of dress. I blushed and then remembered the guy is now married and I’m sure couldn’t care less what I wear on any given day. Hell, I hadn’t spoken with this guy in so long, he probably can’t even recall where he knows me from.
Uhh…. Wrong-wrong. Approximately three hours later I get a call from a number I don’t recognize and guess who…?? Yup, disastrously-drunken-dance-from-two-years-ago guy! Seriously, how does he still have my number even? I have always been under the mistaken assumption that to keep a number that long which you don’t use then, you must have dated, had sex, or been the best of friends…something, anything, even mildly momentous in some way in which you might at some point want to re-visit or experience again. It’s the “just in case I re-think that one” or “in the event I have a moment of weakness when I doubt my past choice” number preservation system. None of which apply here as he and I shared one thing and one thing only: one disastrous drunken dance.
Suffice to say, I was quite taken aback when guy identifies himself. I’m sorry, who is this again?? Unfortunately, my breeding doesn’t allow me to follow that up with a snide “and why are you calling me?” No. So, after the identification process, I just listened. He asks if I’m in Vegas still and just visiting or if I’m back…WHAT?!! How did…? Who told…? Ahhh don’t get me started on the glories of small town livin’ where even the lady three blocks over has a second uncle removed who knows you moved to Vegas…there will be plenty about that to come!
Anyway, not wanting to jump to conclusions, I talked little and briefly and listened long and well… exercising my rarely used ability to put silence in places for the distinct purpose of creating those telling moments of discomfort. I mean, after all, perhaps he just wants to be friends…
OMG, did I really just type that without laughing?
Nahhhh…he wants to meet up….hang out….what-not…. hob-nob….all behind his wife’s back! This, coming in a time-frame where I’m still smack-dab in the midst of figuring married hockey man’s lingering attraction.
…which I still am in the midst of and have so far only learned one thing in regard to this sudden married man phenomenon: the blessing of a married man affectionately calling is that he’s MARRIED and doesn’t have nearly as much time or freedom to call. Which in turn, eliminates a great deal of my personal problem of maintaining my social grace in awkward situations while still oh-so-subtly blowing off said advances…or perhaps dodging them is a more accurate verb. I confess, I’m struggling with blowing these guys off completely. Well, at least one of them I am…
Life’s irony never fails to shoot many blows to my over-analytical mind. As I struggle to maintain basically old-fashioned ethics in the shadowy face of temptation, I’m suddenly smacked with constant media and entertainment concepts that romanticize this issue and remove a bit of the GASP! factor from my temptations: movies, stories, articles, personal friends…all about either cheating on their significant or cheating with someone else’s significant. It seems to be everywhere I turn! Now, what in hell is this message? I can’t tell if I’m being signaled the go-ahead to try this adventure out or if I’m being tested to a new limit of my personal ethics.
Either way, I’m still hanging strong…in limbo, yes, but hangin’ strong just the same.