Christmastime brings them out of the woodwork.
Oh I'm newly calibrated
All shiny and clean
I'm your recent adaptation
Time to redefine me
Let the word out I've got to get out
Oh I'm feeling better now
Break the news out I've got to get out
Oh I'm feeling better now
Oh I'm happy as Christmas
All wrapped to be seen
I'm your recent acquisition
Time to celebrate me
~Better Now, Collective Soul
Yes, I certainly felt ‘shiny & new.’ I don’t think my profile has seen that much action since I first posted it back in the spring!
Out of easily a dozen + hits on my profile over the holidays, there were (what I thought) two men of note that I responded to and that I went on dates with. Oddly enough, they both do the same thing professionally right down to working for the same client (different locations)! Both are smart as whips, the kind of smart where they can do calculus problems in their heads with no scratch paper! And for brainiacs, both are surprisingly witty and funny. One has looks over the other, but the other has warmth and a chemistry I couldn’t find with the former/‘looks’ one.
Alas, the sad ending to this story is that they both fizzled out and now I’m not seeing either man.
Fuck.Shit.Die.
One ‘zled’ before it could ‘fiz,’ and the other was coming from somewhere so foreign to me – might as well be the moon or maybe it was the 4 prior marriages – that I just couldn’t connect the dots and neither could he.
I knew enough to proceed with caution. I had already told myself to look out over the holiday season. But not because I thought for a minute that I would be as inundated with hits from lonely men as I was; quite the contrary. I actually thought it would be the deadest time for dating out of the whole year. Boy, was I wrong!
Most – heck, maybe they all - were lonely souls reaching out to connect over what can be the loneliest time of year and I knew that going in. I don’t have a problem w/ this time of year. I’ve been by myself for a long time, but have always had my family close by and of course, my girls. It would’ve never occurred to me to try and actually make a connection at this time of year. Emotions can be raw and people are more vulnerable during the holidays.
I won’t go into much detail about these men, mostly because with 'Moon,' even though we connect in a lovely way and I think he is a good guy, he's way too gun-shy and I'm way too not, not to mention we are coming from polar opposite perspectives. He sees what ignighted between us as a "red light," I see it as a wonderful blessing, like I said, p-o-l-a-r. But, we have chosen to stay in touch with each other, try the friend thing. No ties. As for 'Chemistry' I’m not holding too much hope, maybe a tiny thread that he will come around. At least for about another week. Then I have to let us both go. Unfortunately, we had a bit of drama and it seems he can't get past it. I thought we had wonderful chemistry, like we were wired for each other…. But at the same time, I just can’t stay as wrapped around the axle as he is over some stress that escalated (Dude, it was the holidays! Stress deserves a spot at that table as much as the Ghost of Christmas Past! Let it go, already.).
One of the things that has resulted in this latest shower of men, is that I went in and changed my profile around. I originally had concluded my profile with a paragraph about what my intent was, i.e., finding a LTR, encompassing trust, communication, and honesty, etc. blah, blah. Standard stuff for the normally challenged. So, I just took the concluding paragraph and made it my intro, thinking just maybe I'd up my odds that the next guy will read enough of it to know I'm not looking to: serial date/be a Mommy to their kids/bankroll thier Wii or Playstation habit. I truly am beginning to believe what one guy told me a while back: Guys don’t read all that shit. They don’t. They look at your pictures, see if you smoke, drink, want kids and maybe look at the drivel to the right/left that “highlights” your personality. That’s it!
I had been left wondering more than once whether or not this guy or that guy ever even read my profile, as they sure don't seem to get me; and now I'm positive that most don't. I mean what guy would respond to a woman who states very matter of fact-ly that she is interested in a LTR when he has been married 4 times and has no intention of getting involved in a LTR anytime soon??? That would be a guy that doesn't read your profile. Yep. That guy.
I quote: "I need about 5-years of 'water under the bridge' before I can even consider a serious commitment."
Honest.to.God.
Talk about a Red light!
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
She's so Fake
I’ve been off of here for a while (again), holidays, business travel and man drama take up a lot of time!
With total and complete trust and permission I wanted to post part of a recent email exchange I had with a girlfriend of mine in South Carolina, who is also trying to find a tiny piece of happiness via the internet dating highway. She put up a bit of a ‘sting’ operation to catch her then current (now past) suitor in what one might call typical 'player games and nonsense.' She had suspected that although he was talking exclusivity with her, he was still trolling for other women while telling her she was his #1.
Read on for the details. All I can say is this took some cajones. I don’t know that I could do it.
As for me and Mr. Miami, we're officially done. I made a couple of comments about him still being on the site (especially since he's the one who was talking exclusive), and he said the predictable met-him-online bullsnit – “why are you spying on me? you should trust me.if you see me on there, you must be on there too.” Finally, I got quiet on it, and I figured I'd let things work themselves out…...in the form of me creating a fake account with a fake picture and having him hit on me.
We (I mean the fake me and Mr. Miami) had a long chat session wherein he told me that he had recently met a person (presumably me, but I don't doubt there were others) but there was no chemistry. The fake me was divorced (as he is), and he kept saying that we understood each other because we were both seeking our second chance at love. Then - he asked for my (the fake me) phone number in the first friggin' chat session. This - after he and I (the real me) had emailed for days before exchanging digits. I (the fake me) just said a very reserved - I prefer to take things slower and left it at that.
Oh - and get this - he was texting me (the real me) as he was chatting (IM-ing)to me (the fake me). He had asked (real) me earlier in the day if I would fly to MIA to see him, and I told him I had to check on a few things. So in his text, he asked me if I had bought my ticket, and I said I hadn't. He just left it at that. The next day, he called me and told me that I wasn't as committed as he was...to which I said, oh, really? And he said I was immature, to which I said, is that so? And he said, yes, and I can't do this anymore, to which I said, ok, cool. What an effin' prick! I was disappointed, but I can't say I'm surprised. Something in the milk wasn't clean from the very beginning.
God! This is so sad in so many ways! What if she hadn't set up the ruse? I'm sure she would've found him out sooner rather than later; she's a smart cookie, afterall. But there he goes, perpetuating the sterotype.
It reminds me of a recent email I sent back to her detailing my recent man drama and how I gave a guy props because he actually called me back to tell me he didn’t think he could continue on the current course we were taking. I gave him props because 98% of the men that I’ve had the opportunity/misfortune to meet on-line would have just disappeared – and some did – rather than call me to communicate such a thing. Yet, it is with a furrowed brow and incredulous look in my eye, that I ask you “Must I give him props for doing the right thing??”
Man-o-man, this is a sad state of affairs (no pun intended).
With total and complete trust and permission I wanted to post part of a recent email exchange I had with a girlfriend of mine in South Carolina, who is also trying to find a tiny piece of happiness via the internet dating highway. She put up a bit of a ‘sting’ operation to catch her then current (now past) suitor in what one might call typical 'player games and nonsense.' She had suspected that although he was talking exclusivity with her, he was still trolling for other women while telling her she was his #1.
Read on for the details. All I can say is this took some cajones. I don’t know that I could do it.
As for me and Mr. Miami, we're officially done. I made a couple of comments about him still being on the site (especially since he's the one who was talking exclusive), and he said the predictable met-him-online bullsnit – “why are you spying on me? you should trust me.if you see me on there, you must be on there too.” Finally, I got quiet on it, and I figured I'd let things work themselves out…...in the form of me creating a fake account with a fake picture and having him hit on me.
We (I mean the fake me and Mr. Miami) had a long chat session wherein he told me that he had recently met a person (presumably me, but I don't doubt there were others) but there was no chemistry. The fake me was divorced (as he is), and he kept saying that we understood each other because we were both seeking our second chance at love. Then - he asked for my (the fake me) phone number in the first friggin' chat session. This - after he and I (the real me) had emailed for days before exchanging digits. I (the fake me) just said a very reserved - I prefer to take things slower and left it at that.
Oh - and get this - he was texting me (the real me) as he was chatting (IM-ing)to me (the fake me). He had asked (real) me earlier in the day if I would fly to MIA to see him, and I told him I had to check on a few things. So in his text, he asked me if I had bought my ticket, and I said I hadn't. He just left it at that. The next day, he called me and told me that I wasn't as committed as he was...to which I said, oh, really? And he said I was immature, to which I said, is that so? And he said, yes, and I can't do this anymore, to which I said, ok, cool. What an effin' prick! I was disappointed, but I can't say I'm surprised. Something in the milk wasn't clean from the very beginning.
God! This is so sad in so many ways! What if she hadn't set up the ruse? I'm sure she would've found him out sooner rather than later; she's a smart cookie, afterall. But there he goes, perpetuating the sterotype.
It reminds me of a recent email I sent back to her detailing my recent man drama and how I gave a guy props because he actually called me back to tell me he didn’t think he could continue on the current course we were taking. I gave him props because 98% of the men that I’ve had the opportunity/misfortune to meet on-line would have just disappeared – and some did – rather than call me to communicate such a thing. Yet, it is with a furrowed brow and incredulous look in my eye, that I ask you “Must I give him props for doing the right thing??”
Man-o-man, this is a sad state of affairs (no pun intended).
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Bulls Eye
Been off of here for a while and wasn’t going to post about what’s happened as of late, and still may not, at least not specifically, but I think I can post about something related (no mystery, I’m just being a wee bit closed mouth right now cuz I don’t want to jinx anything).
After being out for an entire evening (overnight) this past weekend and en route home, I decided to stop in one of the more popular Big Box stores and see if I could pick up a couple of items still on my Christmas gift list. Figuring it was early enough to beat the crowds on a Sunday and knowing that once I hit my front door I was going to be either 1., down for the count via a long nap; or 2., baking cookies for the cookie exchange at work on Monday, I decided that stopping off on my way home might be smart.
Making good on my trip in to the store - having found a couple of things I was looking for - I headed for the check-out. Who knew I’d get perceptive-gay-check-out-boy.
In a matter of about 3 seconds this kid sized me up and I could see by the look in his eyes and on his face that I should’ve gone home and changed and washed my face and then gone back out if I was going to go anywhere public. After all, it’s 11:00 a.m. on a cold, wet December Sunday morning and I’m in this store wearing black high heels, black slacks, a grey/silver sequined blouse, a faux mink coat, lightly smeared (but smeared non-the-less) eye make-up, and "night before" hair (brushed out, mind you.....but still). I definitely didn’t look like I just came from church, either.
Um…duh? Anyone care to guess what this kid guessed?
This guy had a look on his face that said “I know what you did last night girlfriend, you go Mrs. Robinson! Snap!” And in the 3 seconds it took for my light to go on at the dawning of his, I thought: “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.”
Note to self: Unless you can refresh yourself properly (which means at least washing your friggin’ face – seriously- what were you thinking???) after an overnight visit, stay clear of public places until you can!
Ai, yi, yi!
After being out for an entire evening (overnight) this past weekend and en route home, I decided to stop in one of the more popular Big Box stores and see if I could pick up a couple of items still on my Christmas gift list. Figuring it was early enough to beat the crowds on a Sunday and knowing that once I hit my front door I was going to be either 1., down for the count via a long nap; or 2., baking cookies for the cookie exchange at work on Monday, I decided that stopping off on my way home might be smart.
Making good on my trip in to the store - having found a couple of things I was looking for - I headed for the check-out. Who knew I’d get perceptive-gay-check-out-boy.
In a matter of about 3 seconds this kid sized me up and I could see by the look in his eyes and on his face that I should’ve gone home and changed and washed my face and then gone back out if I was going to go anywhere public. After all, it’s 11:00 a.m. on a cold, wet December Sunday morning and I’m in this store wearing black high heels, black slacks, a grey/silver sequined blouse, a faux mink coat, lightly smeared (but smeared non-the-less) eye make-up, and "night before" hair (brushed out, mind you.....but still). I definitely didn’t look like I just came from church, either.
Um…duh? Anyone care to guess what this kid guessed?
This guy had a look on his face that said “I know what you did last night girlfriend, you go Mrs. Robinson! Snap!” And in the 3 seconds it took for my light to go on at the dawning of his, I thought: “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.”
Note to self: Unless you can refresh yourself properly (which means at least washing your friggin’ face – seriously- what were you thinking???) after an overnight visit, stay clear of public places until you can!
Ai, yi, yi!
Monday, November 19, 2007
My Dog ate my Phone
He turned out to actually be a completely pretentious flake as well. We had our date, such as it was. He apparently comes from some money; his Father was a bit of a local Muckity-muck. But he spent at least an hour bitching about his Mother (issues!). Not.real.appealing. I was left thinking that whatever came across over the phone sure isn’t there in person. But when there’s nothing else going on, you might as well give it another go or three. You never know, he could grow on you (where have I heard that before, hmmmm?)
But then he couldn’t ever seem to date on the weekends (no, not married, I’ve been to his house). We’d meet during the week, but he finally flaked and stood me up last week, then tried to tell me 3 days later, via a text message (hahahahahahahahahahaha! maniacal laugh here vs, ha, ha funny laugh) that he lost his phone. If I had $1,000 for every time I’ve heard some variation on this theme, I’d have around $4,000-5,000 dollars right now. After ignoring him another 3 days in the hope that he’d get the message; he apparently is also a bit thick skulled. I finally returned the same courtesy, and text him back calling him out on his lost phone story, calling him a flake, and telling him to stop calling me. He actually admitted as much, but did stop w/ the infernal text messaging.
Flaking out after the age of 25 is, well, it’s obviously done. I had guys flake-out on me in their 30’s, but 40’s??? Why? Just break it off. Or flake-out and don’t come back, period. But don’t flake and call, or rather, text me days later with some 10 year-olds excuse.
“I lost my phone,” “My phone fell in the toilet/sink/bath/beer,” “My phone dropped all of my stored numbers,” or any derivative thereof is the millennium's equivalent to “My dog ate my homework.” The likelihood of this being a true statement in the land of dating is highly unlikely. The likelihood that this could be a true statement if your sister tells you this complete with how it wasn’t just any toilet, but the toilet on the train to NYC, is more likely (and I actually know someone who did drop her phone in a pint). It does and can happen, but I don’t buy it when there’s a date involved in the equation.
Men and the dreaded text messaging. Ah, what better way to hide, then to pseudo-hide behind a 3 ½ inch piece of plastic and electronic chips! It’s magical really. He’s 6’2” and it’s just 3 1/2”, and although he can neither be seen nor heard; he cannot be accused of not communicating because he sent you a text message!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Nevermind that he’s typed so fast w/ those big huge thumbs of his, you can’t make out half of what he’s tried to type and if that weren’t frustrating enough, it’s all internet abbreviated. BUT Your man communicates!! Yes he does! He’s a keeper, oh yeah.
But then he couldn’t ever seem to date on the weekends (no, not married, I’ve been to his house). We’d meet during the week, but he finally flaked and stood me up last week, then tried to tell me 3 days later, via a text message (hahahahahahahahahahaha! maniacal laugh here vs, ha, ha funny laugh) that he lost his phone. If I had $1,000 for every time I’ve heard some variation on this theme, I’d have around $4,000-5,000 dollars right now. After ignoring him another 3 days in the hope that he’d get the message; he apparently is also a bit thick skulled. I finally returned the same courtesy, and text him back calling him out on his lost phone story, calling him a flake, and telling him to stop calling me. He actually admitted as much, but did stop w/ the infernal text messaging.
Flaking out after the age of 25 is, well, it’s obviously done. I had guys flake-out on me in their 30’s, but 40’s??? Why? Just break it off. Or flake-out and don’t come back, period. But don’t flake and call, or rather, text me days later with some 10 year-olds excuse.
“I lost my phone,” “My phone fell in the toilet/sink/bath/beer,” “My phone dropped all of my stored numbers,” or any derivative thereof is the millennium's equivalent to “My dog ate my homework.” The likelihood of this being a true statement in the land of dating is highly unlikely. The likelihood that this could be a true statement if your sister tells you this complete with how it wasn’t just any toilet, but the toilet on the train to NYC, is more likely (and I actually know someone who did drop her phone in a pint). It does and can happen, but I don’t buy it when there’s a date involved in the equation.
Men and the dreaded text messaging. Ah, what better way to hide, then to pseudo-hide behind a 3 ½ inch piece of plastic and electronic chips! It’s magical really. He’s 6’2” and it’s just 3 1/2”, and although he can neither be seen nor heard; he cannot be accused of not communicating because he sent you a text message!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Nevermind that he’s typed so fast w/ those big huge thumbs of his, you can’t make out half of what he’s tried to type and if that weren’t frustrating enough, it’s all internet abbreviated. BUT Your man communicates!! Yes he does! He’s a keeper, oh yeah.
The Island of Misfit BOYS
Went to a really bad singles mixer on Friday night. All I could think was “WTF? Am I at a gay event??” For once the men far out numbered the woman and yet 75% of them hung out with, and talked to their own kind. ‘Scuse me, did you not come here to meet women?? There were groups of 2, 3, 4 men all talking to each other. I stood at the bar for almost an hour before being approached. One might make an argument that I could’ve approached these men. Perhaps. Yet, I had a sense that would have scattered them like flies, only to land amongst another group of single mix-phobic men. And it’s not as though I was clustered w/ other women applying lipstick and staring into a mirror. I used open body language and made eye contact and smiled at several of them. Ugh, it was excruciating. The two men that did approach were alright. No, I take that back - one was alright, nice, a gentleman, all 4’11” of him. The other one was an attorney, nuff said (and seriously waaaaaay too much ego for patent law). For a smart guy, he made a huge leap from the A&E dot to the Realtor dot and had decided that I knew enough about architecture and the housing market to advise him on his house that he’s going to build somewhere in Virginia (although I'm in the A&E industry, I’m not an architect; nor am I a realtor).
Then there was the guy sitting in the corner of the bar that, if I were to interpret his body language alone, I’d swear was a junkie! He kept rolling his head and scratching himself (everywhere but there!), and looking around the room suspiciously. At one point I looked over and he had his pant leg up around his knee and he was tearing up his calf. I had to stifle a laugh. Heroin or psoriasis? I mean, come on, what woman can resist that?
This was sponsored by the same group that did the speed dating sessions I went to. I had much higher expectations for this event based on those. I keep thinking about the woman that works w/ MOD who gave this group such high marks. MOD says she’s an attractive woman, smart, self-assured. How she found a catch in this group is beyond me.
Then there was the guy sitting in the corner of the bar that, if I were to interpret his body language alone, I’d swear was a junkie! He kept rolling his head and scratching himself (everywhere but there!), and looking around the room suspiciously. At one point I looked over and he had his pant leg up around his knee and he was tearing up his calf. I had to stifle a laugh. Heroin or psoriasis? I mean, come on, what woman can resist that?
This was sponsored by the same group that did the speed dating sessions I went to. I had much higher expectations for this event based on those. I keep thinking about the woman that works w/ MOD who gave this group such high marks. MOD says she’s an attractive woman, smart, self-assured. How she found a catch in this group is beyond me.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Speed Dating = Cautionary Rioting = Slow Racing (or, just what we need, oxymoronic dating terms)
Had a second round at this sport on Saturday night. It’s like chemo for those of us with SO cancer. Slow, steady treatment intended on breaking down whatever resistance we women have to turtlenecked-sport jacketed-no-socks-with-deck-shoes-wearing 50 year olds with a comb over or news anchor hair.
So far for me, the cancer’s winning. I can’t relinquish my hold on finding an equal. A ying for my yang (and do I ever need a yang about now), a Fred to my inner Ethel, a Brad to my Angelina.
I saw an article in the last week on the internet that was actually titled:
How to date during the World Series
I was dumbfounded! Men will actually give up chasing tail for baseball? Give it up and make us chase them? AYFKM?
That is a sad, sad, sad state of affairs.
One of the men the other night begged off right after the actual ‘speedy’ part was over with, with a “I’m gonna head home and catch the rest of the play-off game.” I Guess when Tawny Kitaen didn't show up for coffee, he decided to bag it. I found myself actually giving him kudos for showing up to the event in the first place. Pathetic.
This time the venue was a coffee shop downtown. I expected free coffee for $30.00, any coffee of my choosing for that matter, but we didn’t get it. We got a dollar off our first coffee order. That, and what looked like Costco mini-pastries. I think I’ll stick to booze events from here out.
I have a date tomorrow or Wednesday night, but I’m expecting that to probably implode before it can actually get here. This is someone I met on Snatch last week. He seems normal, so how can we possibly get to a first date? Actually, he seems better than normal - a totally unpretentious, guys' guy. I know I can completely be myself around this guy. We talked for almost 2 hours but unfortunately, if this bad luck continues to hang in there, I don't even have to think about it, nothing will come of this either. (come on ladybug luck!) It will die on the vine before it can even have a chance.
So far for me, the cancer’s winning. I can’t relinquish my hold on finding an equal. A ying for my yang (and do I ever need a yang about now), a Fred to my inner Ethel, a Brad to my Angelina.
I saw an article in the last week on the internet that was actually titled:
How to date during the World Series
I was dumbfounded! Men will actually give up chasing tail for baseball? Give it up and make us chase them? AYFKM?
That is a sad, sad, sad state of affairs.
One of the men the other night begged off right after the actual ‘speedy’ part was over with, with a “I’m gonna head home and catch the rest of the play-off game.” I Guess when Tawny Kitaen didn't show up for coffee, he decided to bag it. I found myself actually giving him kudos for showing up to the event in the first place. Pathetic.
This time the venue was a coffee shop downtown. I expected free coffee for $30.00, any coffee of my choosing for that matter, but we didn’t get it. We got a dollar off our first coffee order. That, and what looked like Costco mini-pastries. I think I’ll stick to booze events from here out.
I have a date tomorrow or Wednesday night, but I’m expecting that to probably implode before it can actually get here. This is someone I met on Snatch last week. He seems normal, so how can we possibly get to a first date? Actually, he seems better than normal - a totally unpretentious, guys' guy. I know I can completely be myself around this guy. We talked for almost 2 hours but unfortunately, if this bad luck continues to hang in there, I don't even have to think about it, nothing will come of this either. (come on ladybug luck!) It will die on the vine before it can even have a chance.
Friday, October 12, 2007
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