You Can't Make This Stuff Up

Chapter 52: Not-So-Happy-Halloween

2011-11-14T12:03:00.000-05:00

The next day, Sunday, I wanted to see "Thumper" again, and I called him to tell him so. He apologized and said that he had other plans, but would call me when he got home. I assumed he had plans with the other girl, and now it was starting to bother me. I began to think about the fact that I wanted more attention from him than he could probably give, if he was dividing his time up between two women.

For the last three months, I had been completely focused on "Tarzan", and "Thumper" was certainly a welcome distraction. But I couldn't just immediately go back to playing the field after having gotten used to focusing on one person. And I'm not so sure I wanted to. "Thumper's" constant attention, yet lack of commitment was confusing to me. I didn't need heart/head-confusion just then.

So when he called that night, I told him that I wasn't so sure he could give me the attention I needed. I realized that this was a subtle and indirect ultimatum, but he had so often shown me that he was an all or nothing person, and I had to know if it was going towards "all" or "nothing".

Never in a million years would I have suspected that he would have chosen this other girl over me. After all his talk about how I had captured his heart, he proceeded to tell me that he wanted to explore his relationship with this other woman. He said that they were so comfortable with each other, like they had been old friends for years. He feared the intensity of the connection between us. He suspected that we started out with so many fireworks that we would just crash and burn, and his heart would be broken.

So you're choosing her because she's SAFE? You're kidding? I would never give up the hot intensity of the beginning of a relationship! It's the best part! How could he so willingly just walk away from that? But walk away from it, he did.

Who does this? Who goes that far out of their way to convince someone of a lie? Thankfully, I got out early....

Chapter 51: Happy Halloween

2011-11-10T03:22:00.000-05:00

Over the next two days, my email and cell phone were drenched with messages from "Thumper". If I hadn't been enjoying it so much, I might have been annoyed at his persistence. Therefore, I was surprised to learn that he was still seeing the girl he met for dinner the night he met me. After all his declarations and overtures, I couldn't imagine that he was able to spread that much of himself around.

He attempted to explain to me, over and over, that he was in a very strange place. Never before had he had two wonderful women interested in him at the same time. And, while I absolutely had captured his heart, his brain was screaming at him not to let this other girl go yet... That she deserved a chance to see what might develop, too. However, at the end of the day, he was still completely smitten with me, and he had no idea how to end the war between his heart and his brain. Maybe it was a false sense of security, but considering how much of an emotional person he was, I didn't think it would take long for him to realize where his heart wanted to be, so I didn't mind. I kept it casual, and kept him at arm's length. At least emotionally. Physically, there were pretty much no boundaries...

We went to my brother's Halloween party and had a blast. He was comfortable with everyone, even though he knew no one but me. This was a refreshing social relief from "Tarzan", no doubt. He was affectionate, but not clingy, and I had a wonderful time.

We went back to my house after and made love again. It was even more intense than the first time. Fortunately, there was no more intense talk that made me suspect he was going to tell me he loved me again. But it was still incredible and amazing. I could get used to this. :)

Chapter 50: Perfect Evening

2011-10-27T16:39:00.000-04:00

"Thumper" was on my email before I even got to work in the morning, asking me over for the following evening, a Wednesday, for dinner. He wanted to cook for me. How could I say "no?"

After work, I eagerly drove to his place, and was not only surprised, I was highly impressed. His house was impeccable, and his creativity for a meal surpassed anything I could have dreamed up. We had Yellowtail Merlot, and a spinach salad, garnished with walnuts, strawberries and feta cheese, topped with a homemade balsamic vinegarette dressing, and for the main course? Cedar-plank grilled salmon fillets glazed with a garlic-maple-soy sauce, and a side of honey-dijon mashed potatoes and sauteed asparagus. (Yes, we are talking about a straight man here!) He had bought some Key Lime Pie for dessert, but we never made it that far.

All the romantic gestures, the longing gazes across the table... I allowed myself to be swept up into the faery tale evening. I could just say that we had sex, but it wasn't like that. We made love. It was sensual, and sweet... we were exploring each other, getting to know each other on a deeper level. I couldn't remember the last time sex had been so intense. Or rather, I couldn't remember the last time a man had been this intense.

We lay there afterwards, and here came the tears again. (Wait, this IS a straight man, right?) Okay, yes, we definitely were connecting on an intangible and indescribable level, but I just didn't know if I could handle the tears at every turn. He talked to me with desperation in his voice, to accurately convey what he was feeling. He told me that I had touched him in a way he never imagined. I had his heart, 100% complete and pure. For a moment, I thought he was going to tell me he loved me. How would I handle that? I would not, could not say it back. This was ridiculous. I turned the conversation around to a lighter, more joking arena, to avoid the possibility that he might let the "L" word slip out. And it worked. Whew!

I asked him if he was free Saturday night if he would accompany me to my brother's Halloween party. It was a date, and he was already professing how much he couldn't wait.

Yes, it was moving quick, but I wanted to enjoy it and not analyze it.

Chapter 49: Too Soon To Jump Back In The Saddle?

2011-10-17T16:59:00.000-04:00

The day after "Tarzan" and I broke up, I reactivated my profile on Match. I also signed on to eHarmony. A few weeks back, eHarmony had sent me a match that had sounded quite intriguing, but since I was unavailable I had put "Thumper" on hold. I knew I was probably acting out of rebound-anger, but I reactivated the connection with "Thumper". To my surprise, he responded immediately. By the end of the day we had already gone through the five-step guided communication process, and by Monday morning, we were already talking via email and Yahoo Messenger.

"Thumper" was completely taken with me, and he let me know this in no uncertain terms in every communication. I don't really know exactly what it was that I said that made him so smitten, but I was willing to go with it. I needed a little "awe" in my life.

He wanted to meet me immediately, but he had, unfortunately, made a date that night with another girl he'd met on eHarmony at the same time he met me. He made it obvious that he really didn't want to go on this date anymore, and wanted to meet me instead. While this was very flattering, it wasn't exactly a great character-trait to me, to cancel on a date on such short notice and for such a manipulative reason. I encouraged him to go on the date. But he was meeting her early for dinner. So I suggested a compromise: IF and only IF the dinner date ended early, like 10-ish, maybe he could call me and we could meet for late night drinks?

He loved the idea. I didn't really expect to hear from him that night, but he called at 9:30, claiming that she had needed to leave early anyway, and very much wanted to see me. We met at Applebee's for drinks, and the first words out of his mouth were, "You are BEAUTIFUL!" We talked and had a lot of things in common. I asked him how his dinner date was, and he said that it was better than he had expected it to be, and he would probably see her again, but admitted that, all evening, he couldn't wait to see me. He held my hand across the table the whole time and gazed at me with an amazing look on his face. I really couldn't believe that he could possibly be THIS taken with me so quickly!

We eventually had to agree that it was getting late and walked out to my car. Not wanting to say good night just yet, we sat in my car to have a cigarette, and kept talking. He leaned over and kissed me, and it was a passionate, longing, very sensual kiss. When he pulled away, he sighed and said, "I just knew that you would be a good kisser." When I looked into his face, there were tears on his cheeks.

Tears??? Are you serious? He didn't try to hide them. He said he felt this amazing connection to me, that I had touched his emotions and his heart so fervently that this one kiss just allowed it all to bubble up. This was all very sweet, but just a tad over the top. Or was I so jaded at this point that I didn't believe you could connect to someone so deeply that quick? Maybe he believed in love at first sight, and I was too cynical to allow the possibility? It was a pleasant distraction from "Tarzan", though, I had to admit.

Chapter 48: Can't Say I Was Surprised

2011-10-04T18:20:00.002-04:00

Over the next few weeks, I felt this distancing from "Tarzan". It wasn't completely tangible, just a feeling. We still talked on the phone, saw each other several times a week, and spent the weekends with the girls.

We had a WONDERFUL day with the girls that month. We took them to the Conyers Fall Festival, then went roller skating, and finally, took them to Piccadilly for dinner before getting them home to their mom on time. It was easy to ignore the distance growing between "Tarzan" and I when we were with the girls. For the first time that day, they told me they loved me, and I was elated. I loved them, too, more than I ever thought I could love a child. "Tarzan" expressed his approval, too. He would constantly remind me how wonderful he thought it was that I accepted his girls as much as I did. This surprised me. Why wouldn't I? They were a package deal. However, he explained, there are a lot of women out there that refuse to compete with children in a relationship. Whatever! They don't know what they are missing!

The following week we all planned to go to the zoo. "Tarzan" called Friday night with the girls there, and let me talk to them so we could squeal and giggle together about how much we were looking forward to going to the zoo the next day.

Later that night, I signed onto Match. I have no idea why. My profile had been hidden for two months when "Tarzan" and I agreed to take both of them down. My mailbox was empty, and my "Who's viewed me counter" was not moving. I guess there was a part of me that wanted to see how active some of the people I'd met in the past had been, like "Tramp", "Goofy", "Mickey", "Shrek", or "Aladdin". Were their profiles still active? Had they logged on recently? Yes, Match makes it pretty easy to do a bit of online stalking if you are so inclined. :-P

I logged on and felt like someone had just thrust a knife in my stomach. There was "Tarzan's" profile, upfront, active, and very visible. Are you serious? He just decided to start dating again without even talking to me? I knew that we were having a little stormy weather lately, but how could he do this? My stomach felt like it had cinched up into a double-knot. I wanted to call him that instant and ask him what the f--k he thought he was doing. But I restrained. I decided the best course of action was to call in the morning, before I went over, and clarify our relationship before I spent all day long at the zoo with him and the girls, pretending like I didn't know he'd done this.

Well, he claimed that he had signed on to cancel his membership altogether, and must have hit the wrong thing. This wasn't altogether implausible, as Match had recently reconfigured the site and the activating buttons were all different, but it was still a lame excuse. Regardless, though, I needed clarification from him, and I wanted it before I committed my entire day. As you can imagine, the conversation was not a pleasant one. One of the girls was not feeling well, and the zoo trip was off, so I was advised not to come over at all. I hung up knowing that our relationship was hanging in the balance, but not completely sure if we had broken up or not.

He called later that night after the girls went home. This conversation was much more calm and rational, but the result was still the same. He was no longer comfortable in this relationship and feared we wanted different things. After being upset, worried, and crying all day long, I was rather numb. He wanted to stay in touch, he still wanted me to be a part of his life. I didn't know how I wanted to handle it, but I just agreed to let things settle as they may and I said good-bye to "Tarzan".

Chapter 47: Speed Bump

2011-09-29T16:32:00.000-04:00

Every year in October, my next door neighbor and I would have a joint party to celebrate our birthdays, which are relatively close together. Both of us, and all of our friends, eagerly anticipate this party, as it has become a bit of a tradition. We routinely would have between 30-40 people who attend, and it was always a success. After "Tarzan" and I celebrated the twins' birthday, it was time to start putting together *my* party, and I couldn't wait.

For the first time, since my ex-husband left, I was in a committed relationship, and here was the perfect opportunity to show off my new boyfriend to all my friends at one time. It was perfect. I was happy, I was in love, and I wanted to show it off to everyone!

Over the previous two months that "Tarzan" and I had been together, we had done very little socially. We went out to dinner a lot, spent time with his girls, and maybe, on occasion, with a friend or two of mine. "Tarzan" had no close friends. He never really had. I won't pretend that this didn't concern me. Who could possibly live for 36 years and not accumulate a friend or two? I was only 32, and I had DOZENS! Maybe even hundreds!

So I was concerned about "Tarzan" and how he would conduct himself at my valued social event of the year. I knew that he was uncomfortable around crowds, but I convinced myself that he would understand how important this was to me. I felt that he might understand that everyone in attendance was someone that was important to me, or to my neighbor, or to both of us, and he would put aside his own instincts and stand by my side, like any man would do for his woman when she really needed him.

Needless to say, I was wrong. There was no question about it: I was a social butterfly, ping-ponging around to every person who was there, and "Tarzan" was a hermit, standing in the corner, silently sipping on a beer. He only spoke when spoken to, and refused to mingle. I tried to include him and pull him around with me, but his feet were rooted exactly where he stood. Occasionally people would approach him and start idle chit-chat. He was always polite and courteous, but by no means was he interested in sustaining a lengthy conversation with anyone, and his body language just radiated outwards, "Leave me alone!"

By 11:00, he was ready to go home. I was wired, I was a little drunk, and I didn't want him to. We hadn't even brought out the cake yet! I begged and pleaded with him to stay. He was having none of it. I was highly disappointed, and felt highly abandoned, but I let him go. I wasn't exactly gracious about it, though. I let him know with extremely disapproving looks how disappointed I was that he was leaving so early. I didn't want to fight, I didn't want anything to turn into a yelling match, but I wanted to make sure he knew how I was feeling. Being a "little" drunk after he left just wasn't going to cut it... I went back in and got VERY drunk.

Chapter 46: Comfortable, Easy... Perfect!

2011-09-26T11:43:00.000-04:00

Throughout the month of September, "Tarzan" and I had a blast. I met the twin girls and fell in love with them immediately. We spent our weeknights together, and our weekends with them. We went shopping together for their birthday party that was at the end of the month. We hopped around Toys R Us like two kids, buying two of everything that they had so meticulously listed out for us. We wrapped their presents together. We played soccer in the front yard with them. I amazed myself at how willing I was to step into a "stepmother" role. Never before I had even fantasized about having children. And here I was - Very much in a position to inherit two of them, and I wanted it. I wanted the whole thing. The family outings, the bedtime baths, brushing their hair, coming up with little art projects for us to do together, playing childhood games... All of it. There were no games between us, no guessing, no wondering or waiting by the phone. This was the kind of relationship I had been waiting for.

About a week or so before their birthday, we went out to dinner and "Tarzan" said that he had procrastinated on buying supplies for their birthday party. After dinner, we just HAD to go back to the house and get on the birthdayexpress.com website and order some things, and he wanted my help. :) No problem!

We made a little "detour" before we actually got to my computer. As we lay there, talking and cuddling, I had such a rush of emotion. I wanted to tell him I loved him, but I was scared. Everything was moving so smoothly. What if it freaked him out? What if he thought I was getting too close to him and his girls? I saw the same dreamy look in his eyes, but how could I be sure? I held my tongue. Finally he said we had to get dressed and get on that website.

Before we left my bedroom, I turned to him in the candlelight and slipped my arms around him. "What?" he asked.

"Would it freak you out terribly if I told you I love you?" I held my breath and waited for his response.

"Not at all," he said, "because I wanted to say that very thing just a few minutes ago."

"So say it," I said.

"I love you."

Chapter 45: We Girls Like 'Woo'

2011-09-18T04:33:00.000-04:00

Over the next several weeks, "Tarzan" proceeded to take up so much of my time that I didn't even have the opportunity to see anyone else. I was okay with this. It was nice to get that daily phone call (or calls!) at work, nice to have a man asking to see me several times in a week, and most definitely on weekends. Other than the time he spent with his girls, he wanted to see me as much as possible. Sometimes we went out, sometimes we stayed in, it didn't matter. We were having a blast - both in deep "smit."

I was very respectful of the time he had with his girls, and made conscious efforts to stay away during those times. He had made several comments about me meeting the girls, and I would always recoil at the thought. Even though I knew we weren't seeing anyone else, we had not made any "official" exclusive commitment yet, and I didn't feel that adding the children into the equation was prudent just yet. He seemed to have no problem with the idea, and couldn't seem to wait for me to meet them, but I was still hesitating. Kids? How would I approach that? Kids can be even more judgmental than parents, and they don't always hold back, either. I convinced myself that I was doing the right thing by waiting to meet them, but, in truth, I was terrified of meeting them. They were these beautiful 6-year-old little girls, Daddy's girls, who had been through a bazaar divorce, and already had a new stepfather. "Tarzan" had told me several times that they kept asking him when he was going to get a girlfriend, so one might think that they were ready for that. But what if they weren't? What if my limited experience with children wasn't enough to win them over?

We'd been seeing each almost a month when "Tarzan" had to take an overnight trip to Augusta for work. And who should call me but the Swiss pilot? He tried to convince me to come over for "a glass of wine." And, let's just say that he wasn't nearly that charming about it. I could have... He may have been arrogant, but he WAS sexy. And "Tarzan" and I weren't exclusive. But I just didn't want to. The pilot kept asking, and I kept shrugging him off. In the end, I just never called him back.

Then it occurred to me: If I didn't want to hook up with the sexy Swiss pilot, maybe I was more committed to "Tarzan" than I was admitting to myself? When he came back into town, I told him just that. I told him that I had the opportunity to go out with someone else, and that I just didn't want to go, and how would he feel about "officially" making it exclusive. The broadest grin crossed his face and he said, "Are you kidding? I've been wanting to call you my 'girlfriend' for weeks!"

So it was official - it was the end of the summer, I'd been divorced for just over six months, officially dating for about five of those months, and I had a "boyfriend." :)

Chapter 44: ...And With Flying Colors

2011-09-12T01:23:00.000-04:00

The next morning, I had an email waiting for me before I even got to work. "Tarzan" thanked me for a fantastic date, told me I was a "phenomenal" kisser, and wanted to go out again as soon as I had time. He was chasing, and he was courting, and I liked it. This is how it was supposed to be. I had the perfect opportunity to do it right this time. Of course, the big question was, "Could I?"

We planned a date for Friday night, and then continued talking via Instant Messenger and phone for the rest of the week. Okay, the accent was still annoying, but it was getting easier and easier to get past it to see the person he was underneath. And the more I learned, the more I liked. He was intelligent, knew how to be serious, knew how to be funny, financially stable, and he had this way of getting slightly giddy when he talked about us together, almost in the same way he got giddy when he talked about his girls. It was just enough to tell me that these were subjects that made him happy, and that was a very comforting and flattering feeling.

We met at Pappa Deux for dinner that Friday night. It started out slow, like our previous date, but then we both started to loosen up a little, sharing a bit about our day and the like. Maybe he was trying to impress me, or maybe he just liked wine, but I was really surprised when he suggested that we order a bottle of wine with dinner. I'd had a glass or two of wine when I'd been out before, but I couldn't recall ever being asked to pick out an entire bottle before! And he wanted MY opinion as to which wine we should get.

Another surprise, "Tarzan" liked Merlot. Again I was reminded of the stereotype I had attached to him because of his accent. Most rednecks wouldn't consider Merlot with their dinner, now would they? I chose a bottle of Clos du Bois, a brand that I'd been wanting to try, and I was delighted that, not only was it as good as I'd hoped it would be, but he enjoyed it too! I would have felt like crap if he'd just spent $40 on a bottle of wine and then hated it.

A delicious dinner and a bottle of Clos du Bois Merlot later, and we ended up back at my house. Yeah, I was doing the mental debating again. Should I, or shouldn't I? With "Tarzan," things felt different. He really was smitten with me, and I was certainly getting there. He had made absolutely no moves or comments that insinuated that he was just after a one night stand, and it was hard for me to picture that he could be that type of man. Maybe I was deluding myself, maybe I wasn't. Either way, I took him upstairs, (will I never learn?) and it was wonderful! He seemed even more smitten with me after. There wasn't a shred of nervousness or regret floating around inside me. I felt completely comfortable. I didn't even ponder whether or not I would get the "day after" phone call from "Tarzan." When he left, I had every confidence that I would.

Chapter 43: Winks and Spontaneity

2011-09-09T00:25:00.000-04:00

So as you can imagine, I was feeling a little despondent about this whole thing. I was certainly losing my enthusiasm, and I had pretty much lost my faith in the idea that I would actually find someone again. I was at work when I received a new "wink" from "Tarzan". Hmmm... he looked familiar. I bet he'd winked at me before. He was a nice-looking guy - I wondered why I hadn't responded. I'd noticed his picture, too, in some of the searches I'd done on Match, but had never received or sent a message from or to him. The fact that his picture stood out to me counted for something. I didn't normally respond to "winks," but maybe I'd see what this guy had to say.

He was eager and excited to hear from me. Within minutes, we were messaging on Yahoo, and within the hour, we had agreed on meeting for dinner that night. I liked the way he conducted himself on Instant Messenger. He was polite and respectful, quiet and shy in his own way, but willing to speak his mind when properly motivated. I could tell just from the wide variety of words he used that "Tarzan" was indeed intelligent. He asked if we could talk on the phone before we met for dinner, and I gave him my office line.

Oh, boy...

What had I done? The voice on the other end belied the intelligence I had been reading in our Instant Message session. I was listening to the slowest, most dim-witted, back-woods, country bumpkin Southern accent I'd ever heard. I realized that I shouldn't pre-judge someone based on their accent, but the man I was speaking on the phone with didn't talk with the same ease and comfortability that he had typed with. How was I going to put up with that accent and the awkward silences all through dinner? However, I had already agreed to go, so I went.

It started out just as awkward as I had thought it would. But I had a few drinks and loosened up a bit, and we both started to relax. We shared some divorce war stories, and he told me about his twin 6-year-old daughters. I could see the pride in his eyes and hear it in his voice every time he mentioned their names.

When it was time to go, we both agreed that we wanted to show off our cars to each other. He, with is custom collector Mustang, and me, with my special order TransAm. We started at his, and ended at mine. Sitting in my car, we were just talking and laughing, when he leaned over and kissed me. It took me a bit by surprise, but he was strong and passionate. His hands tangled into my hair and his fists clenched, telling me in no uncertain terms that he wanted me. I liked it. The front seat of my TransAm wasn't exactly the most comfortable situation, but we didn't seem to notice. We kissed for what seemed like hours.

Finally, we grudgingly peeled ourselves apart and admitted we needed to go home. Never would I have expected this date to turn out so well! Never had I been on a date that started out so wrong and turned out so right! I drove home feeling elated, but not overly confident. He still had to pass the "day after phone call" test.

Chapter 42: Sigh

2011-09-05T21:30:00.000-04:00

By now, I was starting to roll my eyes at almost every contact I got. Make no mistake about it, I was still receiving daily "winks" or emails, but I was getting jaded. I kept looking back over the last six months and wondering what in hell I was thinking!?!?!

Who was that girl that met a man at a Valentine's Day party and ended up on the balcony of a room in the W Hotel with a stranger under her skirt? Who was that girl that got so clingy and desperate to hang on to "Tramp", when he made it so obviously clear that he didn't want me? Who was that over-reactive psycho that kept insisting on some sort of explanation from "Goofy" when he refused to talk? And WHO IN HELL was that slut that slept with every man who crossed her path over the last month? Certainly that couldn't have been me? A good, long, hard look in the mirror reminded me that it was.

I needed to be more picky. And, more importantly, I needed to be less available to these men. But I didn't want to be TOO picky, and I didn't want to be "un"available, either. There was certainly no shortage of men out there, contrary to what most women seem to say. I no longer felt I needed to give every bonehead that crossed my path a chance for fear that I "might be passing up a good one." They needed to impress me, dammit. Anything less than that was just a waste of my time. And theirs. So what was the big picture? What did I really want? Defining this question to myself seemed even more important than I how I should begin conducting myself around my suitors. So what DID I really want?

I wanted companionship. I was lonely. And the more casual interludes I had, the lonelier I felt. Sure, it was fun for a few hours, but who was there to say, "Good morning," who was there to send me random emails throughout the day, and, most importantly, who was there to stand by my side if there were some drama in my life that I might need a hug for? I wanted to believe that I was over the casual sex phase, but I wasn't exactly looking to get married tomorrow either. I just wanted to spend time with someone who wanted to spend time with me. No games, no cageyness, no standoffishness, no disrespect, just enjoying being in someone else's company. Was this really too much to ask for?

Chapter 41: Let's Meet, Greet, Eat...

2011-09-02T16:05:00.000-04:00

Moving on...

"Quasimoto" sent me a message through Match.com soon after. His email was just a bit, uh, over-enthusiastic. Every sentence ended with an exclamation mark, and he went on wondering how he could have "missed" seeing me, and then kept saying we should "meet, greet, eat, etc. at the Waffle House!"

For those of you who aren't from the South, or the North-East suburbs of Atlanta, more specifically, the Waffle House is the 24 hour restaurant that is on just about every corner. It's the default place to go when the bars close. The place is quaint, and the food is greasy - just the stuff that hits the spot when you've had too much to drink. For our North-Eastern American readers, equate Waffle House to your Whitecastle, and there you have it.

Now, "Quasimoto" was, by no means, attractive to me, AND he was a good 12 years older than me, WAY out of my age range. Now, I'm not so cold-hearted as to tell someone that I don't find them attractive, so I'll find some other reason to give if I'm going to turn someone down. Something that, hopefully, dictates some logic and leave it at that. You're too old, you live too far away, you said you wouldn't date someone who smoked, I'm not a Christian, I'm allergic to camping, You're still married, etc... Anything to get them off my back. (This technique, by the way, has worked maybe 3% of the time. I just haven't found another technique yet to test out.) Since "Quasimoto" lived in the same city as me, I couldn't use distance, so I told him that he was out of my age range and left it at that.

Like the stray dog that you give a treat to, this one was NOT going to go away.

(Brief tangent: By the way, I would love to know how responding with a "NO" gives these men reason to think that, just because you responded AT ALL, this is an open door they need to force their way through? Ladies, as bitchy as it feels to do, it's easier to just not answer them at all than to try to turn them down. For some reason they think you are offering up a challenge to convince you to change your mind. I have yet to discover the reasoning behind this.... Okay, soapbox away, and we continue where we left off....)

So "Quasimoto's" response consisted of explaining to me, in detail, his entire workout routine (proving that he was not old and feeble), and then he threw his resume at me, explaining all of the famous people he'd rubbed elbows with, all of the companies he'd started, and how he'd managed to retire early. And, of course, ending with his catch-phrase: "So let's meet, greet, eat, etc. at the Waffle House!"

Again, I guess I was being too nice by responding. I wrote him back and told him that I didn't say he was too old and feeble, just that he had 12 years of LIFE on me, and that I've had bad experiences with significant age differences before. I also told him that I didn't need him to recite his entire resume at me, and I was sorry if he felt the need to do so. Make no doubt about it, I politely turned him down again.

He came back at me, claiming that he would bring news articles to support any and all claims he had made, adding a few more bits to his resume, and then interjecting his signature, "Let's meet, greet, eat, etc. at the Waffle House!"

This was getting obnoxious. Okay, time to get bitchy. I wrote him back and told him that I was not too thrilled with the idea that someone would want to take me to the Waffle House on a first date.

"Quasimoto's" response?

I'm not trying to impress you with amenities, I'm going to impress you with my intelligence, wit and charm! I need to meet at the Waffle House because it's some place I can walk to. I don't have a car right now. Oh, and, by the way, would you mind giving me a ride home after? Let's meet, greet, eat, etc. at the Waffle House!

No car, I'm supposed to chauffeur him around, and he wants to wine and dine me at the Waffle House? Yeah, now here's a real winner, ladies, take note! Did you move back in with your Mommy when you so gallantly retired early? I could NOT waste anymore time on this lunatic. For the first time I utilized the "block" feature on Match.com. Had this tactic actually ever worked for him???

Chapter 40: Anyone Order Swiss?

2011-08-28T05:02:00.000-04:00

So it took a few days to come down off the high of my fantastic evening with Aladdin. I had no preconceptions about him. I knew exactly where he was, and he was not playing in a "committed" field. As a matter of fact, he was playing in a "me" field, and much more interested in concentrating on making his own life better. I respected that. I knew that we would, in all likelyhood, continue having occasional, casual rendezvous. As long as he remained respectful of me, I was okay with that.

The good thing, of course, was that this left me open to pursue other prospects. This sexy Swiss commercial airline pilot had been talking to me online for a while, and he wanted to hook up. The French accent, the pilot's uniform, and the blonde hair had me melting. He was flying home on a Sunday night and wanted to take me out. Say no? I don't think so!

His flight was horribly delayed, and he didn't get back to Atlanta until quite late. Too late to go to dinner. He called when he landed and convinced me to let him come over. My bells went off again. It was unsafe to allow yet another stranger to my house. And, considering my self-control track record, I didn't think he was exactly coming over to "talk."

I should have been jaded and bitter, considering the encounters I'd had with men over the previous month. I should have played hard to get, mysterious and coy. Shoulda, coulda, woulda. My wiser self was telling me I was repeating a destructive cycle, but I chose to ignore it. Again. Apparently I had not yet learned my lesson. And when he showed up on my doorstep, still in his pilot's uniform, I knew that I wasn't ready to learn my lesson yet.

I wasn't nearly as blown away as I thought I would be. And, to add insult to injury, he ends up telling me a couple of days later that I wasn't aggressive enough "orally" and not submissive enough in bed. Nothing like being critiqued on your sexual skills. Which, I must say, I get complimented on a lot, and am quite confident, so I knew he was full of it. I so badly wanted to tell him that he was no Gladiator in bed, either, but I let it slide. No point antagonizing the situation. I guess he needed his ego pumped up even more after this, because he proceeded to tell me that he had a girlfriend (a fact he failed to mention up to this point), and she was a bit of a prude in bed. So what he was really looking for was someone he could keep on the side to get kinky with. As attractive as this was (not), I turned him down. Six months later, and he was STILL contacting me, trying to get me into bed again. I couldn't have been all that bad, now could I?

Chapter 39: Didn't Expect That!

2011-08-22T00:26:00.000-04:00

Much to my surprise, "Aladdin" called me that week. He said he was back in town now, and things were calming down for him and he'd like to go to dinner. I put aside the bitterness I'd experienced over the last few weeks and recalled the amazing night we'd had on the 4th of July (see entry "Fourth of July Fireworks"). I recalled the FIVE hour conversation we'd had on the phone the day before that made me late to my mother's bar-be-que. Given these statistics, I would be a fool to carry around a few weeks of baggage to claim a strike.

We met at the Five Seasons for dinner. It was a gorgeous summer evening, and threatening one of those electric summertime thunderstorms. When I walked up to the restaurant, "Aladdin" looked incredible. Toned and tanned, with just the right amount of snugness to his jeans. I found myself wanting to be classy, yet irresistible to him. We'd already been to bed, though, so deciding how forward I should/could be was a challenge.

The looming summer storm made good on it's promise and the lights went out a couple of times through dinner. I thought it was terribly romantic. The conversation through dinner flowed well, but there was a hint of awkwardness and tension in the air. Damn. I hoped that this wasn't a pity date. The obligatory second date he felt he had to make because he'd slept with me? Damn.

I took the plunge when dinner was winding down and asked if he wanted to go back to his place. (He lived very close by.) He agreed, but was ever so slightly hesitant. Damn. We went back to his place, played with his cat for a while, and he suggested a movie. We lay on the couch, cuddling, watching the movie. He held me, but his hands did not wander. Damn.

After much mental debating, I decided to just ask. I turned to him and plainly asked him, "So, I was wondering why you are being so careful. You are acting like you don't want to have sex with me again." I'll admit, I expected the "not feeling the chemistry talk." So I was pleasantly surprised when he brought up our marathon phone conversation from almost a month ago. I had told him that, while I don't expect exclusivity out of someone I'm just dating, I do prefer to only be intimate with one person at a time. (Obviously, I had not been following my own rule over the last month.) He told me that he respected that decision of mine, but that he couldn't give me sexual monogamy right now. He said he very much had wanted to see me tonight, but fully expected to not have sex with me for that very reason.

I blushed and lowered my head. I said, "Yeah, well, I've sort of revised that theory." He asked why. "Because I've been having a lot of fun." He smiled, and kissed me, and said, "Well, then, if that's the case, then I very much want to have sex with you!"

And, to maintain his perfect record, "Aladdin" rocked my world one more time.

Chapter 38: But... I... Ummm... HUH?

2011-08-15T02:15:00.000-04:00

"Timon" would be home Saturday! I couldn't wait! We talked about seeing each other Sunday, after he'd had a chance to settle in. Finally! A decent man to spend a little time with!

Sunday came, and when I finally heard from "Timon," late in the afternoon, he was out and about, running around, and heavily distracted. I didn't even want to ask if we'd be getting together. It was obvious he either didn't have the time, or just didn't want to. I'll admit, I hung up confused and upset. For three weeks he had been diligent in calling me everyday, and now, when we were finally in the same city at the same time, he had no time for me? How did this happen?

Well, take a step back. He had a life, too. Perhaps I should give him a little room to breathe. He'd been out of town for a good while. There might be things he had to tend to that were taking a couple of days of playing "catch up" to put them right again? Tuesday was his birthday, so when Tuesday came I sent him a text message on his phone, wishing him a fun day. No response. I tried to call, and got his voicemail. This was ridiculous. I'd had enough. Not only was it pointless to try to figure these men out, I was damn tired of doing it.

The FOLLOWING weekend I finally heard from him. He said he went to Virginia to visit a friend and CLAIMED to have left his phone at home. Games. I didn't have time for this. If he didn't want to see me, that's fine. But why take off to Virginia to see friends without even mentioning it to me?

Two weeks ago I had five men chasing after me, and now there wasn't one I should even condescend as to give the time of day to. I wanted to give up. It was hardly worth the effort anymore.

Chapter 37: "I got the town wired"

2011-08-10T10:44:00.000-04:00

So I had been on the Internet dating circuit now for only four months. It seemed much longer. How many men had I been out with? How many had I slept with? Certainly way more than I ever could have by using conventional methods. The internet was proving to be an efficient and reliable method to meet an endless number of people from backgrounds I never would have crossed otherwise. As with anything though, you have to take the good with the bad. My screening processes absolutely had a little something left to be desired.

"Timon" continued his daily phone calls while he was traveling that week. I was increasingly getting more and more excited to see him during the upcoming weekend. Finally! But hold back, don't put too much of your emotional stock in one man. I learned that lesson with "Tramp." "Tramp," by the way, still plagued my thoughts from time to time, and I still felt helpless to the unknown knowledge as to why he cut me off so abruptly. I wondered what he was doing, how things were going for him. Had I come across as the most clingy and needy woman he'd ever met? Or was he back with his ex-girlfriend, and that's why he refused to talk to me? This was, of course, the most likely scenario, but still aggravating as hell not to know for sure.

So I was at work late one night, and contacted by "Zazoo" via Yahoo Messenger. He had seen my Personals Ad and was intrigued. I looked up his ad, and was intrigued. "Zazoo" was one of those, "I got the town wired" kind of guys, but his energy and enthusiasm was amusing. He was into making and producing music and had been doing so for quite some time. He pushed to meet for dinner when I got off work. I had no idea when I was going to finish, and I tried to explain that to him. But he was insistent. He wanted to take me out to dinner. Well, shoot, nothing wrong with a free meal, right? So I agreed.

This, I quickly discovered, was a mistake. Since I had agreed to dinner, and I had no idea exactly when this rendezvous would happen, we agreed to keep in contact by phone. I then began receiving phone calls from him every 15 minutes, wanting an update as to when I would get finished. Of course, this only delayed my progress each time. He ended up at the Outback restaurant we had agreed upon and asked if, perhaps, he should just get something to go, and bring it to my office. I still had work to do, and everyone had already gone home. Bringing a stranger to my place of business was ludicrous. But I was hungry, and it was late, and I DID work in a secured location that wouldn't be readily accessible should he turn out to be a stalker or something.

Yeah, I did it. And was beyond disappointed. Bringing me dinner to my office was incredibly sweet, and it did give us an opportunity to talk, but the picture he'd shown me was probably 10 years old, and at least 50 pounds ago. I did my best to be grateful and gracious, but I was completely turned off by him and his "I got the town wired" attitude. He had an egotistical quality that was irritating when I clearly didn't think he had any reason to be so. When "Zazoo" left, I tried to make it as politely clear as I could that I was not interested, and I thought he understood. However he attempted to contact me for a couple of days and finally got the hint. How do I seem to attract these weirdos?

Chapter 36: Welcome Home to Me

2011-08-01T16:38:00.001-04:00

"Timon" called me everyday while I was in Chicago. We enjoyed some late night talks after everyone else had gone to bed, and I was truly looking forward to seeing him again. Maybe all those other "up in the air" guys wouldn't really matter? I'll admit, I started allowing myself to entertain the idea that, once both of our traveling schedules died down, "Timon" and I might be able to start something of substance. But, at this point, it wouldn't be until after next weekend before I could find out.

My last day up there, though, it occurred to me that I didn't have a ride home. I knew I could take the train up to Doraville, and it would be fairly easy for anyone to pick me up and take me home. Mom was still in Pennsylvania, and was actually flying home the same day I was, but her flight didn't arrive until later in the evening, and her boyfriend was picking her up. I couldn't very well ask him to pick me up, just to have to turn around and pick mom up. I had a plenty of friends, and I could ask any one of them. But why? ;) I had boys galore to choose from!

"Timon" was traveling, so he was out. I called "Aladdin", but he had plans and was unable to break free. I didn't WANT to call "Basil," at all. He had sent me an email while I was there, with some non-sensical email about being freaked out. Whatever. Good riddens, buddy. "Kawena" was also unavailable, with apologies, and the conversation turned into a "not really feeling the chemistry" talk. Geez! I wasn't asking for marriage, I just needed a f--king ride! I wasn't so sure I wanted to call "Slim." I was feeling uneasy about what had happened and I wasn't so sure that was a connection I was interested in maintaining.

By the time I was sitting at the airport, waiting on my flight, I started to feel uneasy. How was it possible that, out of all these dates I'd had, not one single guy was willing to give me a stupid ride home from the train station? There was an episode of "Sex and the City" where Samantha (definitely the character I'd been identifying with as of late) had just moved into a new place, and she'd contracted the flu. She hadn't hung her curtains yet, and was too sick to do so, but couldn't rest during the day because of all the daylight pouring through her windows. She went through her little black book and called all the men she slept with to come to her aid, and not one of them came through for her. In the end, her best friend's, Carrie's, boyfriend, came over and hung her curtains for her. When Carrie arrived with chicken soup, Samantha was reduced to tears, realizing that none of it meant anything if you didn't have a man in your life that you could depend on. This episode flashed through my head as I scrolled through countless numbers in my phone, in a desperate attempt to get a lousy 10 miles from the train station to my house.

My flight was delayed. I broke down and called "Slim." Since I didn't really know what time my flight would actually arrive in Atlanta, he said to call him when I landed and he'd "see" if he could make it. I was NOT impressed. So I called my next-door neighbor, who conveniently happens to be one of my best friends, and she said that she would come and get me. About damn time.

Well, between the 2 1/2 hours my flight was delayed, and the 1 1/2 hours we ended up sitting on the tarmac, awaiting takeoff approval, I ended up landing in Atlanta about 20 minutes before my mother did, so I just caught a ride home with her and her boyfriend.

I think it's time to take some emotional inventory, and possibly do some house-cleaning, don't you think?

Chapter 35: Off to Chicago

2011-07-27T04:55:00.000-04:00

So, I mentioned a few entries back that "Timon" was coming into the Atlanta airport about an hour before my flight to Chicago. We planned to rendezvous at the airport to see each other for a few minutes. It had been over a week since our interlude and he had been rather diligent in contacting me in some form or fashion almost everyday. With "Timon," I seemed to have escaped the "Sex on the First Date Curse." Hell, it wasn't even a date, it was more of a spontaneous booty-call, in reality.

So "Basil" showed up to take me to the train station, as promised. As I suspected he would be, he was wound up and short on time. He was ushering me out the door and shoving me and my luggage into his truck immediately. His phone went off several times and he seemed to thrive on taking his calls and sounding all important, giving orders to his subordinates. Maybe it was an act, maybe it wasn't. Either way, I sat in the passenger seat, quietly, thinking to myself, "What have I gotten myself into?" The whole situation made me feel like a HUGE inconvenience and very uncomfortable. But I reminded myself that I had given him every opportunity to back out. After all, I had only asked for a favor, and made it clear that he could have said "no."

He dropped me off at the train station, and suddenly seemed to remember that he needed to be sweet. He kissed me, and told me that I looked pretty. Then he wished me a good time in Chicago, and I thanked him for the ride, and bade him good-bye.

"Timon" and I missed each other at the airport. His flight got in early, and I got held up at security. His ride showed up early, too, so he couldn't hang out and wait for me, and, for some reason, neither one of our cell phones were allowing calls to go through.

"Kawena" called while I was waiting at my gate, though. Surprise, surprise! I truly had not expected to hear from him again, and certainly not before I left! On the flight up, I allowed my mind to engage OFF of AutoPilot and contemplate my current situation. This was getting out of hand. I needed to make a list of them all! Let's see:

Aladdin: Can't forget about him. He would be back in town soon.
Timon: Who was being attentive and charming
Basil: A bit high strung, but certainly still in the picture
Kawena: A surprising phone call that might put him back in the contest
Slim: Not really sure where he fell into things yet

Maybe a weekend away would do me some good. I think I needed to put some distance between myself, Atlanta, and all the boys!

Chapter 34: Running on Autopilot

2011-07-19T05:46:00.001-04:00

Is exactly what I was doing - "Basil" called me the next day at work, which was a surprise, but I took advantage of it. I needed a ride to the train station that would take me to the airport the next day, and I asked him if he'd be available. He said he could, but then his true colors came out. He started stressing and obsessing how he was going to do it. I told him over and over that if it was a problem I would find another ride or call a taxi. He insisted that he'd be able to give me the ride, but the stress in his voice was obvious. I regretted asking him, but now I couldn't back out. No matter how much I tried to explain that it was okay for him to say "no," he seemed to thrive off of having to "deal" with this unexpected responsibility. Whatever. I gave him the opportunity to back out. If he wasn't smart enough to take it, I was going to accept the ride.

"Slim" and I exchanged several emails throughout the day about our rendezvous that night. "Slim" lived way too far away, and I'd told him that when he first contacted me. But he insisted that he would come out my way, with no questions asked. What was it about these men that they would drive 40 minutes or more to meet me? I certainly wouldn't.

He came to a bar that was close to my house. When he pulled up, he was even cuter in person than his picture. I say cute because he was a bit younger, and he looked it. He had that little boy shyness about him that was irresistible. And, much to my pleasure, was all of the 6'-5" he'd promised. It was after dinnertime, so we had agreed on drinks only. He offered dessert, though, on which I passed, but he ended up ordering a slice of pie for himself, and then a second slice, which he fed me bites of. It was a cheesy move, but it worked. I took the first move and leaned over the booth to kiss him. After that, I stayed on Autopilot and let him lead.

When we walked out to the parking lot to say "Good night," we kept kissing. He asked to come home with me. Autopilot: Don't think, just do. The Punchline? I glamorized that someone who was a few years younger would be hot and exciting? In reality, I forgot about the fact that inexperience leads to premature finishing. And he wasn't a "spring back to life" kind of guy, either. During the after-talk phase, I learned that he was a late bloomer and had had little to no spontaneous experience like we'd just had. Great, this explains a lot. He may have been chronologically 29, but sexually, he was about 21, if that. At least it was legal. :-\

Chapter 33: Hoo Boy, ANOTHER?

2011-07-11T07:16:00.000-04:00

I was contacted by "Slim" while I was at work that day. We started Instant Messaging and I just couldn't resist. He was a bit younger, 29, but he was a lawyer in his own practice and he was 6' 5", which completely turned me on.

He asked me out for that night, and I had to say "no," of course, because I already had a date with "Kawena," but I just couldn't say no and agreed to meet him the following night. I felt like I wasn't taking ANY of this seriously, but then again, I argued with myself, why did I have to take it seriously? Wasn't the point to have fun?

I met "Kawena" for dinner at Barnacle's. We sat outside on the deck, as the July weather was more than gorgeous. The first thing I realized was that he didn't look at all like I expected him to. He wasn't unattractive, by any stretch of the imagination. But all of the pictures he had posted were taken from somewhat far away, and he just looked different than I expected. Dinner, however, was great! Easy flowing conversation, no lulls, and constant laughter. I'll admit, though, that I felt insecure. Which, for those of you who have been following, is not like me at all. Was it my own insecurity, or was I picking up a vibe from him? I felt like I wasn't good enough for him. Was I not pretty enough? Not thin enough? Not classy enough? Maybe I just wasn't enough of a Buckhead princess for him? I unconsciously found myself attempting to impress him, sitting with my back straight, legs crossed, and not being too open.

What was I doing? This wasn't me! I never try to be someone I'm not when I meet someone new. While I will admit that there was a part of me that wanted to impress him, there was also a part of me that made me uncomfortable to the fact that I felt unworthy to this man. He wasn't exactly "all that," and I had no intention of becoming pretentious just for his sake.

I didn't even have to try. He admitted before we called it a night that he wasn't attracted to me. So, the vibes I was feeling weren't so far off. Was he not attracted to me because he felt my insecurity? I had a hard time believing that, considering how many dates I'd been on. Reacting insecurely must have been a result of something I was feeling from him. However, my bruised ego needed a boost as I drove home. I needed a booty call. Damn, why did "Timon" have to be traveling this week? Damn, "Aladdin" was traveling, too. Wasn't there anyone else?

"Basil." I didn't even want to give myself time to think about it. I called, he was home, and I weaseled an invite over out of him. His place was modest. Half of a duplex. But he owned it and normally had the other side rented out. He offered me wine and we played with his cat. Too much time had passed, and my inhibitions were taking over. I couldn't make the move. In the kitchen, on a wine refill, he pushed me up against the wall and started to kiss me. My inhibitions instantly dissolved and I allowed him to lead me into his bedroom. He was extremely turned on by the "taboo" of what we were doing. I enjoyed myself, but as I drove home, I realized that it wasn't exactly the ego boost I needed.

Was it him? Was it me? Was it morality? Whatever it was, I wasn't ready to admit that I was going about this all wrong. So, in denial, I stayed.

Chapter 32: The Week of Juggling

2011-07-02T05:56:00.000-04:00

So I was home for three days, and I had three dates scheduled. Not bad, huh? I wondered if I was going to get lucky with any of them? I felt almost as if I was moving outside my body, as an observer. I didn't want the entanglements of a boyfriend, or emotions, or loyalties. I felt myself looking at "Samantha" from "Sex and the City" and thought, "THAT'S how you do it!" Just do what you want, and don't bother to think about it too much. It's more fun that way. I am an intelligent, attractive, successful woman. When the right man comes along, I won't have to work at it. At least not initially. He will accept me for me. So why not have fun in the meantime?

I met "Basil" for lunch, and I was impressed upon meeting. He had that lanky build that I'm so attracted to, and those smashing blue eyes. His hair was flecked with grey and his southern accent was not overwhelming and charming in his own way.

But I learned very quickly that he was extremely high strung. He was fidgety and talked about his company and the general problems he was having at the office. He had that "Push To Talk" thing on his phone and had to take several calls. While I appreciated the concept of him having his own business that was obviously thriving, I suspected he might have been a little too proud of it and wanted to make sure he conveyed that he was an "important" person. Maybe he was just hyper? Maybe he was just nervous? At the end of lunch, we walked out to our cars and he gave me a very tight hug. I might have lingered there in his arms an extra second or two. After all, aside from his flagrant attempts to impress me, I still found him very sexy.

We instant messaged later that day. He confessed that he was nervous at lunch and that he's not usually that high strung. That was refreshing. I don't think I could have handled him being like that ALL the time. He asked me if he had kissed me in the parking lot, would I have kissed back? I admitted that I would have. Okay, so we were turned on by each other. Not bad.

He knew I would be in Chicago for a long weekend, so it was fairly understood that we probably wouldn't see each other again until I got home. Now it was time to focus on my date with "Kawena" tomorrow night.

Chapter 31: This is getting addictive

2011-06-28T07:05:00.000-04:00

"Timon" didn't call on my drive up, but he did start sending me text messages the next day. He was sweet and flirtatious, knowing that I was spending time with my extended family for our annual reunion. I thought it was rather charming the way he was keeping in contact, not wanting to intrude, but letting me know that he was thinking about me. We ended up on the phone a few times, and I discovered that his job was going to have him traveling during the week for the next three weeks, but he would be home on the weekends. Unfortunately, I was traveling on the weekends. It looked as if we'd have to just chat on the phone for about the next two weeks or so before we'd actually be in the same city at the same time.

And then I discovered that I had a free high-speed internet connection at my hotel. I couldn't stay away. When the day was done and it was time to drift off to bed, out came the laptop, and I logged onto Match.com to see who'd been looking at me, winking at me, or if I had any messages. And, wouldn't you know? A hot white-collared guy sent me a message. "Kawena" was a clean-cut, all-American white boy in real estate, and wanted to see what I was about. Hmmmm... OKAY!

And there was a second message, from "Basil": A tall, blue-collared business owner with smashing blue eyes. And writing them both back didn't seem wrong. After all, you don't just send your resume to one company at a time, right? You sent out several dozen and wait to see who calls back. "Kawena" and I graduated immediately to instant messenger, while "Basil" and I stayed on email. "Kawena" knew I was in Pennsylvania, and he promised to call me on Monday to keep me company on my long drive home.

I felt pretty popular on my ride home. I got calls from "Timon", "Kawena" and even heard from "Aladdin". I was only going to be home for three days and I had dates lined up almost back to back! I was meeting "Basil" for lunch on Tuesday, "Kawena" for dinner on Wednesday, and "Timon" was coming into the airport on Friday about an hour before my flight out to Chicago. We planned to rendezvous at the airport.

What was I doing? All of a sudden I had four different men contacting me. And you know what? I was going to have fun with it.

Chapter 30: I admit, I like the attention

2011-06-25T01:22:00.000-04:00

So "Shrek" was officially out of the picture, and it was obvious "Aladdin" wasn't going to be available for some time. I wasn't exactly the most available person, either, as I was driving to Pennsylvania the coming weekend, home for three days and then flying to Chicago the following weekend. But I admit it: I liked the attention that I was getting online. Why should I have to spend the next two weeks alone? I looked over some of the contacts I'd gotten recently and one caught my eye. "Timon" was blonde, cute, and very new to town. Why hadn't I responded to him when he first contacted me? Probably because I was already being torn in too many directions. Well, it had only been a little over a week - Maybe he was still interested?

So I wrote "Timon" a note and apologized for it taking so long to get back to him. He responded and I was pleased to find out that he was definitely still interested. Being so new to town, he really hadn't had the opportunity to meet many people yet. We went ahead and moved to Instant Messenger and started chatting. He was a really interesting guy. A fresh transplant from New York and worked in the emergency medical field. No, he wasn't a doctor, but he had a lot of interesting stories to share. Unlike some people who go on and on about their jobs, his stories were really captivating. It didn't take long to progress to the phone.

What was I doing? I knew exactly what I was doing, but I wasn't completely proud of myself for it. "Aladdin" wasn't exactly waiting in the wings for me and I didn't want to wait around for him, either. Up to this point I had, for the most part, concentrated on one person at a time, even if I was communicating with others simultaneously. I didn't want drama, I didn't want commitments, I just wanted to meet people and have fun. Should I tell "Timon" this up front? I decided that it was better to get a feel for the kind of person he is before I went there.

So it was the night before I was driving to Pennsylvania. I had decided to burn several audiobooks to CD for the drive back, as my mother was staying the night over that night and driving up with me the next day. It was rather boring and tedious work, and I called "Timon" to chat. He knew I was leaving town the next day and started implying that he'd like to see me before I left. Well, it was already late, and I still had a lot of CDs to burn. I couldn't go out, and wasn't it a little late to be getting together? No, he insisted, he was just as much of a night owl as I was.

I mentioned that I was going to run out of CDs and have to run up to the 24 hr. Wal-Mart and buy some more. "Timon" offered to give me some blank CDs he had that he wasn't going to use. Uh, wait a minute? The Wal-Mart was just up the road from me, and he lived 20 miles away - he wanted to drive all the way over here to avoid me having to run to Wal-Mart in the middle of the night? Having some company while I burned all these CDs was certainly an attractive prospect to me. And my mom WAS sleeping in the room down the hall. What the hell? I invited him over. He saved lives for a living, how dangerous could he be?

For a while, we just sat at my computer and talked, keeping our voices low so as not to wake up Mom. It sort of felt like we were in high school again, sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night. At one point, I noticed that he was leaning far over while he was talking, and I looked him square in the eyes and said, "You really want to kiss me right now, don't you?" He said he was thinking about it. So I kissed him. And he was sweet and gentle, and our kissing eventually found ourselves entangled on the floor. Instinct took over and I didn't even feel like trying to argue with my morals. I tip-toed down the hall to my bedroom to get a condom, and tip-toed back, closing and locking the door. There was a fun and dangerous quality about what we were doing, with my mother sleeping in the guest room, and it was fun. It WAS like high school, with the door locked, having to keep quiet, and trying to avoid the rug burns. The urgency and the fear of being caught was exciting, and exhilarating, and it made the sex a lot of fun.

Mom actually DID wake up (fortunately!) after we were finished and I was back to burning CDs. She was a little tickled over the fact that "Timon" was there, as we had been on the phone when she had gone to bed. It was some ridiculous hour when "Timon" finally went home. He knew that I'd be on the road all day, which was a Thursday, and would be on the road all day driving home that Monday. We'll see if he calls... Anyone care to take any bets?

Chapter 29: Well, that was easy...

2011-06-23T05:33:00.001-04:00

"Aladdin" called the next day. Points for "Aladdin"! (Remember that "day after" phone call, guys. You don't realize how much that says to us, about you, your character, morales, upbringing, and more!) We both knew that we met at a rather inconvenient time, as he was going to be traveling for work for the next several weeks and I was going on two trips over the next two weekends. But we vowed to keep in touch and hopefully be able to sync up our schedules some time within the next three weeks or so. I liked that; that we had established that up front. Now I could go the next three weeks and not hear a word from him, and I wouldn't think twice about it! No obsessive internet-stalking sessions wondering if he's home, will he call, why is he signing onto Match but not saying anything to me? (Internet-stalking is one of my favorite pasttimes, by the way...) No, I could relax. "Aladdin" said it would be three weeks, and I figure I'd give my brain a good month before I started obsessing over it.

And when I got home that night, I called "Shrek" to check in on how he was feeling. He was doing better, although not quite ready to go back to work. Again, I asked him if he needed anything, or wanted me to come over. Again, he said he just wanted to be alone. So I jokingly asked him if he was going to miss me since I'd be away for the next two weekends in a row.

Considering I was attempting to stay light and breezy with him, this elicited a response that got him very serious very quick. He began stuttering and hesitating, trying to find the words to say. Finally he expressed that he was concerned - concerned that I was more "into" this relationship than he was. Apparently I had attempted to be too close to him by offering to care for him while he was laid up. And the fact that I asked him if he was going to "miss" me while I was away. And my aggressiveness that night that I had tried to be intimate with him.

I'll admit, I was a little dumbfounded while "Shrek" was going on about this. Was he serious? My attempts to be caring and nurturing with him led him to believe that I was falling for him? Part of me wanted to shoot back at him the fact that if I was so "into" him, then why did I have sex with another man last night? But I didn't. I let him fumble his way through his break-up speech, and at the end, he asked me what I thought.

I said, "Actually, I've been wrestling with the very same thoughts, because I thought YOU were more into ME."

"Oh," he said, "Well, then - I guess I was wrong." I could hear the dismay in his voice, a strange combination of surprise, bewilderment, and relief all at the same time. We agreed that we'd be better off friends, promised that we'd still talk from time to time, and wished each other luck in finding love.

This break-up thing might be getting easier with time, you think?

Lesson Number Fifteen: It doesn't have to be a drama-filled struggle! You CAN walk away calm cool and collected, without hurt, rage, and dignity still intact.

Status: WANT to learn immediately!!!

Chapter 28: Fourth of July Fireworks

2011-06-20T15:15:00.000-04:00

I woke up and immediately began rifling through my clothes, trying to find just the perfect outfit to wear to lunch to meet "Aladdin". I wanted it to be casual, but nice; sexy, but not trashy; confident, but not too revealing. I wanted to convey that I was indeed the same person that had spent five hours on the phone with him the day before. I wanted him to see that I was indeed an open-minded and adventurous woman, but still maintain some class and decorum.

I settled on a summery mini-dress, black with big white retro-looking flowers on it, and summery sandals. My make-up looked great, I was having a good hair day and I got in my car and drove down to Buckhead, feeling confident and giddy. We met at "The Tavern", and his pictures did not deceive his good looks or his boyish charm. He had a shy quality about him that conveyed that it would take very little scratching at the surface to unleash his wild side. And it was drawing me in by the minute.

We had a few too many drinks at lunch, and decided to walk it off by walking around the outside of Phipps Plaza for a while. Neither one of us wanted to finish the date, but "Aladdin" said he wasn't quite able to drive yet, so I offered to take him to a bar near my house that has a couple of pool tables. Which is exactly what we did. I think we got through one game, but by the second game, we kept pausing to talk, flirt, laugh, and, yes, kiss. He was an amazing kisser. And so sexy.

And here I was, in my mental torment again. My "id" (for those of you who know Freud's work) wanted to take him home. My "SuperEgo" said to wait. It was too soon, it wasn't proper, the connection would be ruined if you give in to your inner desires so soon. He wanted it too, (let's just say I could "feel" it) and I knew he wouldn't turn me down if I offered. What should I do? I wanted to give in to my desires and say, "Screw what's 'proper'!"

I gave in. "Aladdin" was amazing. He was an expert when it came to a woman's body. He knew exactly what buttons to push and how. He kept my body in involuntary jerks and convulsions until I was cross-eyed. Exhausted and spent, we fell asleep in each other's arms.

It was about 10:00 when we woke up, and agreed that he needed to get back to his car and get home. We hoped that the Lenox Mall fireworks' display traffic would be gone, and set out to Buckhead. We were wrong. Lenox area was a zoo. It took us forever to get to the parking garage where his car was, and I felt his tension mounting with each passing minute. I tried to joke around, make the best of a bad situation, but it was obvious that traffic was a push button issue with him and he didn't even want to loosen up.

When we FINALLY reached the parking garage under Phipps, it was closed off. How could he get his car?!? He jumped out of the car and called out to the attendant that his car was inside. The attendant motioned him in, and he started to take off, but then paused, turned around to me, motioned that he'd call, and I waved back, and kept going, so as not to hold up traffic. I couldn't help but wonder, as I drove home, if I'd ever hear from him again.

To add insult to injury, I checked my voice mail on the way home. "Shrek" had called just to wish me a "Happy Fourth of July", and said that he was sure I was somewhere, watching fireworks and having a good time, but not to bother calling back as he was going to pop a few pain pills and crash early. Can you rub a little salt into that wound, please?

This, however, wasn't enough to ruin my "after glow" on the way home...

Chapter 27: Three-Day Weekend

2011-06-18T15:33:00.000-04:00

So, a three-day weekend was looming ahead, Fourth of July weekend. Mom was planning a BBQ at her place, and was really ancy about my brother and me being there, because her boyfriend's family was going to be there, too. They'd been dating for over a year, and our families had yet to meet. There was no backing out of this one!

It never fails, though, that family gatherings are always a "couple" fest. I didn't want to be the only solo there, and with all the men I'd been meeting, why did I have to be? "Shrek" was obviously the one I'd been seeing the most of, and the one I'd been connected to the furthest, so he seemed the logical choice. I know I'd been having reservations about him, and I know I was questioning his absolute nature when it came to love and relationships, but maybe taking things to the next level with him would help facilitate our connection into something he could grasp onto? After all, meeting the family is always a big step, right?

So "Shrek" and I made plans to go to Mom's house on Sunday for a BBQ. However, the day before, he calls me up, sounding completely spacey. I immediately sensed that something was wrong, so I was instantly concerned. He told me that he'd spent most of the morning at the hospital because he did something to his back and was laid up and on a lot of pain medication. And, as a result, knew that he would have to cancel on coming to Mom's for the BBQ the next day.

Well, it was obvious in his voice that he was in a lot of pain, so I was genuinely concerned about him, and made sure that there was nothing I could do. Could I come over and bring him something to eat? Did he need someone to be there for anything? No, no, no... He just wanted to be alone and sleep it off. Then after I got off the phone, it occurred to me that TWICE in the last MONTH, I'd been cancelled on due to back injuries. (Remember "Goofy's" excuse? See Chapter 22: "Oh yeah, SERIOUS Dé Ja Vu") Was this the new excuse of the year, or was this a giant sign that I was indeed getting older, and back problems are simply something I would have to deal with now that I was dating men in their mid- to late-30's? Regardless, I left "Shrek" to his own devices and resolved to go to the cookout alone.

The next day, I was puttering around the house, killing time until I needed to go to Mom's. The phone rang and it was "Aladdin". "Aladdin" was someone I'd been passing emails back and forth with for a couple of weeks. I'd contacted him, initially. He was really cute, and had caught my eye on Match some time back. He had a logical approach to life, and seemed straight forward and upfront. Since "Tramp", this had become a VERY attractive quality to me. "Aladdin" and I started talking, and, this being our first phone call, we had plenty to say. Our conversation began probing all aspects of each other's lives. He told me a lot about his past, which had a few skeletons, and then professed in amazement that he couldn't believe that he'd told me all of it. But, as he was quick to point out, I was so easy to talk to, and seemed understanding on just about anything.

Before I knew it, I looked at the clock and we'd been on the phone for FIVE HOURS! Even "Tramp" and I had never gone on for that long! I was elated! We made plans to have lunch the next day, Monday, the 4th of July, knowing we'd both be off of work and would have lots to time to spend together if we chose to do so.

Did I feel a pang of guilt toward "Shrek" for making a date with yet another man? Maybe a little, but I couldn't deny this connection I'd felt with "Aladdin" right off the bat. I went to the BBQ and never gave a thought to the fact that I was there solo. All I could think about was my lunch with "Aladdin" tomorrow.

Chapter 26: Wandering Eyes

2011-06-15T13:27:00.000-04:00

"Shrek" was obviously not giving me all I needed or wanted in a relationship. Sure, he was being a gentleman, but it all goes back to my complaint about how men go to extremes. Either they want to get busy on the first date, or they want to wait until we're all "serious and in love"... Blah, blah, gag, gag, barf, barf. :-P For me, there are shades of grey in almost every situation. Always going to extremes takes too much work.

My point is that I wasn't getting my needs met, emotionally or physically, from "Shrek," so when I was contacted by "Mowgli" on Match, I was intrigued. He didn't have a picture up, but he sent me one via email. He was pretty cute. We'd just been talking by Instant Messenger and emails for a few days, and he was really charming. He had just the right amount of flirty, humorous, and intelligence that really charmed me.

He told me one night that he had to pick his brother up at the airport later that evening, and he'd love to have a quick drink with me before he had to drive down there. I didn't have plans, so I agreed. I knew it would devastate "Shrek" if he knew I was meeting another man, considering how adamant he was about only seeing one person at a time, but it seemed innocent enough. "Mowgli" made it very clear that he just wanted to meet. A quick drink before he had to go to the airport. It wasn't really a date, just a "Happy Hour" kind of thing.

We met, and "Mowgli" was great! He was charming, funny, successful, really had his act together, and, above all, he seemed really taken with me. He told me how beautiful I was many times, but didn't overdo it. He liked listening to me talk, and laughed at my jokes. He was good looking, too. He was tall, which totally turns me on, well groomed, and built. He wasn't a hard body, but he had bulk in all the right places. I was quickly realizing that this guy not only would be able to give me what I wanted in a relationship, but he was more than ready and willing to do so.

So in our conversations, he mentioned his kids. He had three. Hmmm... Three kids is a lot of kids, but I get along with kids pretty okay. So I asked him how long he'd been divorced. (Considering the rebound disaster I'd had with "Tramp", I was cautious.) His answer was the last thing I expected:

"Oh... Uhhh... didn't you notice on my Match profile that it said 'Separated'?"
"Ummmm... no... actually I didn't."

DAMMIT! DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT! All the weirdos and whackjobs that I'd met, and the first guy I meet who is good-looking, funny, charming, intelligent, successful, and VERY into me... But, oh, wait... He's still MARRIED!?!?! I just can't win...

Lesson Number Fourteen: Pay attention to detail!

Status: Still learning

Chapter 25: Time to take the top off the cookie jar!

2011-06-14T02:10:00.000-04:00

Alright, I wanted some action. I didn't want to analyze my feelings, or over-define my relationship with "Shrek". I wasn't falling for him, and, honestly, didn't think that I would. But we had a good time together and I was attracted to him. It would have been easy for me to start weighing the pros and cons. He was a very committed person, so I was probably asking for more than I wanted if I took our relationship to the next level. But I was tired of tying myself into knots over these men. Girl! Just be selfish for once! Act like they do! HA!

So I came home from work, called him, and invited him over. No plans, no dinner, just come over, keep me company, have a few drinks, and see where things might go. After all, he'd let me call the shots all the other times. It was I who decided when to talk on the phone, it was I who opened the door to start dating, and it was I who initiated some pretty groovy kissing sessions.

So he came over. I fixed us some drinks, put on some background music and we commenced with some idle chit-chat. It didn't take long before I made my way over to his lap and started putting on the moves. And wouldn't you know? No matter how hard I tried, he would not take the bait. Not at ALL! Wouldn't even let me run my hands up underneath his shirt. And he damn sure wasn't going to put his hands up mine. So after all that, all I got was another groovy kissing session.

This was probably shaping up to be a bad idea, "Shrek" and me. I wanted to take things casually and have fun, and he took everything so damn seriously and absolute. Well, give it a little more time - after all, relationships are all about compromise, and maybe, sooner or later, "Shrek" and I would find some common ground.

Time to take a cold shower and hit the sack...

Chapter 24: Still playing it safe

2011-06-10T00:38:00.000-04:00

"Shrek" asked me out again, and we made plans to have dinner and a few drinks at this little Mexican joint I like to hang out at. He came and picked me up and we did just that. Nothing particularly notable, it was a nice dinner and we talked a lot and laughed. As always seems to happen, we started diving a little further into each other's histories. He had a fairly cynical approach on life. Most of the time it was humorous, but occasionally it was a little over-dramatic and exaggerated. He sort of had that tendency to be a bit over-self-righteous about things. But I could overlook that, right?

We came back to my house, and I thought I might get a little "smooching" action going on. :) And smooch we did. And that's ALL we did. Again, no matter how many green lights I gave him, he wouldn't even let his hands wander. As a matter of fact, it became obvious that he was painfully taking great care not to even ACCIDENTALLY let his hand wander to my butt or my chest. Which, in turn, made me self-conscious about letting MY hands wander. One of my best techniques when kissing is the "well-placed wandering hand," you know? This was cramping my style!

Well, that's okay... Even though we'd been talking and flirting for some six weeks online, this WAS only our second date. Waiting... What a novel concept!

Chapter 23: Too Committed?

2011-06-08T15:45:00.000-04:00

So "Shrek" and I had been talking online for probably about six weeks at this point. I had purposely kept this one at arm's length for a couple of reasons. One, between what happened with "Tramp" and then my recent stint with "Goofy", I was on enough of an emotional roller coaster that I didn't think I could handle another one. Two, I had been juggling enough of these boys, that I just didn't want to add any more drama to the mix. And three, "Shrek" had made it plainly clear, over and over, that he did not fool around with love. He was a hopeless romantic, one-woman man, and that's the way it was. It wasn't fair to me or him to even attempt to be anything more than friends with him until I was ready.

However, now I was thinking about it. I came to look forward to our talks online, and I offered to talk on the phone one night. I asked him why he had never asked for my phone number, and he said that it was because I told him I'd wanted to talk online for a while. Okay, not bad, he was going to let me call the shots. Allow me to progress at whatever pace I saw fit.

He wanted to take me to see "Episode III: Revenge of the Sith". Normally, I shy away from someone who suggests taking me to see a movie on a first date. After all, purposely planning a date that includes a lengthy activity where you can't talk to or see each other does not scream out to me, "Yes, I want to get to know you!" But considering we'd been talking for quite some time, it was okay.

We went out to dinner, and had a few drinks. He was unhappy about his job and had suspicions that he was about to get laid off, so that was the primary topic of conversation. I understood, though. After all, work-drama can tend to take its toll on one's mental health! Afterward, we had some time to kill before the movie started, so we walked around the shopping center a while. He asked if he could hold my hand, and I thought that was sweet. I couldn't remember the last time I'd walked around anywhere just holding hands.

He held my hand all through the movie, and then drove me home. I invited him in and we just sat and talked for a while. I asked him if he wanted the "grand tour" of my house, and he gave me this little hesitant laugh and said "I don't think so." This threw me off. Did he actually think that I was inviting him to bed just because I offered to show him the upstairs? Whatever, I let it slide. When I walked him out to his car, he asked if he could kiss me. That was a little much... Asking permission? Sort of takes all the spontaneity and romance out of it, doesn't it? I know he said he doesn't fool around with love, but a little spontaneity never hurt anyone, did it? Or, maybe this was just his way of being a gentleman? S'alright, we were just getting to know each other after all, right? We shared a few kisses, and he didn't even let his hands wander.

Okay, what was happening here? Was this what it was SUPPOSED to be? All proper and cautious? Or had I just been dicked around so much that being treated properly caused me to get paranoid? That's cool, let's see where this takes me.

Chapter 22: Oh Yeah, SERIOUS Dé Ja Vu

2011-06-07T07:51:00.001-04:00

So "Goofy" did not call the next day (Thursday). I thought that was a bit tacky. After all, the "day after" phone call really ought to be a requirement, regardless of where the relationship, or lack thereof, is or isn't going. It's just a sign of respect, I think. But I didn't fret over it too terribly much. After all, we had the date planned for the next day, so maybe he thought that the "day after" phone call was null-and-void in this situation.

The plan was that he was going to call and give me directions to his place so I could come over straight from the office, and we would go out to dinner. I waited all day at work, obsessing over why the phone had not yet rung. I gave in at 4:00 and called him to get directions. I got his voice mail and left a cutesy message asking if I needed to telepathically figure out where he lived. I wonder, of course, if the message came across as breezy as I intended it to, because inside I was fuming. At 6:00, I tried again, and again got his voice mail. I didn't leave a message that time, because I knew I couldn't even fake not being pissed off. To add insult to injury, I could see that he had been signed into Match.com several times that day, so I knew he was around.

At 6:30, I was furious. So I sent him a nasty email expressing exactly how uncool it was for him to do this. Aren't we supposed to be adults? If he didn't want to go out, why couldn't he have AT LEAST sent me an email to cancel? Why stand me up like that? I drove home, completely amazed that men still do this well into their 30's.

When I got home, there was, in fact, a message waiting for me on my home voice mail from him. He had called that afternoon to tell me that he threw his back out and had to cancel. My first reaction was that I had reacted too quickly. But, no, wait - He KNEW that I was coming from work. Why make me drive all the way home before I find this out? He had my work number, my cell number, and my email. There was no reason for him to call my house and leave a message there. In short, the only reason for him to do that is because he wanted to avoid talking to me.

I went to the computer and saw that he had, in fact, received my email already AND responded to it. He accused me of not caring that he was in a lot of pain, and that, if I had bothered to check my messages, I would know that he had not stood me up. I wrote him back and tried to explain why I was so upset, but he refused to respond. I sent another email over the weekend in an attempt to get him to talk and try to smooth it over, but he apparently didn't want any part of it. Great, now I have a cop in the city I work in to avoid. Although, the fun part of this was that he would probably go further out of his way to avoid me. :-P

Lesson Number Thirteen: Don't overreact, don't let your emotions run away with you.

Refer to Lesson Number Two: Don’t invest too much emotional stock in one person too quickly. It takes up a lot of your time and energy, and closes you off to other opportunities that might arise.

Status: Probably will never learn

Chapter 21: Dé Ja Vu?

2011-06-05T15:12:00.000-04:00

And who should I start chatting with again but "Goofy" the cop? His out-of-state job offer was still up in the air, but he was more pacified with the situation, knowing that it might take up to a year to fall in place. Initially, we were just Instant Messaging, and he asked if I really wanted to get involved with a guy who might be moving away? Since it might take a year, I told him that it would really suck if we really hit if off, but what was the harm in having fun in the meantime? This seemed to open him up a little to be more flirty and wanting to spend some time with me.

It was a Tuesday, I believe, when we were discussing this, and we planned a date for that Friday. The next night we were Instant Messaging again, and we got a little flirty, which turned into frisky... (Have I no control?) And he started asking whether or not he could come over that night. I playfully asked if I let him come over, would I still get the date on Friday? He enthusiastically said "Absolutely!" I hesitated some more, but I knew I wanted him to. Did I give in? Of course I did.

When he arrived, he got shy. It was kind of cute, actually - This 6' 5" police officer being shy... We talked and gabbed, and didn't even approach the reason why he came over. Finally I confronted him about being so shy. He said that he always gets shy around women, which is why he is attracted to aggressive women that make the first move. NEON SIGN: Open door! And I walked through.

He was actually a much more gentle lover than I had expected him to be. He had passion and expertise in his touch. Afterward, with the usual post-bliss talking and laughing, he just kept running his hands down my body and over my hips. It was sweet and affectionate. It made me feel like he really was there for more than just the sex.

We planned out our date on Friday. I was to go to straight to his place when I got off work about 7:00, because he lived rather close to my office. And then we'd go out to dinner from there. When I walked him out, we were laughing, hugging, kissing, and we said good-bye. He said he'd talk to me tomorrow and see me on Friday. I was already looking forward to it.

Chapter 20: Adult Much?

2011-06-02T04:04:00.001-04:00

So I got winked at by this Freddie Prinze Jr. look-a-like on Match.com. We'll call him "Simba". I don't usually respond to winks on Match, but who wouldn't want to meet someone that looks like Freddie Prinze?

We played e-mail tag for a while, and couldn't seem to sync up. But we finally got to the "exchange phone numbers" phase. Now, "Simba" certainly was no "Manny" on this first phone call, but he certainly had no qualms about laying it all on the line.

He was 33 years old, and still lived with his parents. Now, there are many instances when I can see where living with your parents might be warranted:

Had he just moved to town and was staying there while he diligently looked for a place to live? No.

Had he just been through a divorce and let his ex-wife keep the residence? No.

Had he lost a job and was having trouble getting back on his feet? No.

Did he have a couple of kids he was paying an astronomical amount of child support for? No.

The fact was that he was 33 years old and in college. Was he in graduate school getting a higher education? Wrong again, honey. He was living with his parents because he spent the majority of his 20's partying. Never went to college like the rest of us did, and when he hit 30 he decided that the party lifestyle was over and it was time to get his life on track and go to college and think about a career. And what easier way to do that than to continue living at home until it was "safe" to venture out on his own?

Now, I will say that his decision to put his life on track was an excellent decision. And a responsible one. But for me, at 31 years old, with an ex-husband and a stable career, I was really looking for someone who ALREADY had their life on track. Not someone who was still searching for the right track to follow. I realize that this is a rather snobby position to take. Who was I to pass judgement on someone who had made the conscious decision to better their own life? So what if he didn't come to that decision at the same time I did? My ex-husband had this problem, not really had ever grown up, or decided where he wanted his life to go, and it was a huge obstacle in our marriage. So, as you can imagine, there were LOTS of foghorns going off in my head. And yeah, this was my baggage, not his, but I just wasn't going there. Not again.

Well, we talked a couple of times, and he never asked me out. Just as well, I didn't really WANT to have to turn him down. But damn, he was cute. Oh, well, onward and upward, matey!

Lesson Number Twelve: Don't fall for a pretty face.

Status: I think I learned this one while I was still married... He had a VERY pretty face!

Chapter 19: Whatha?

2011-05-30T07:23:00.000-04:00

So I was contacted by a guy that was not on Match.com. "Mr. Toad" actually just IM'd me on AIM one day and we started chatting. I told him right off the bat that he was too old for me and lived too far away. It was at least an hour's drive between us, and he was 47 years old. I was 31 at the time.

Significant age difference may be acceptable to some people, but it's not to me. I've had some experience with dating men significantly older than me, and they have all been BAD experiences. I have even had some experience dating men that were close to my age, but had dated women significantly younger in the past, (like “Tramp”) and it has just proven to me over and over again that men who want a woman that much younger than them are looking for something that a woman just can't give them. Maybe they are trying to hang on to their youth? Maybe they feel they've made a mess of their own lives and being with a younger woman gives them the opportunity to sort of "do it all over" again? Maybe they are just immature. Who knows? Granted, I realize that not ALL men who date much younger women are like this, and I know of couples that have managed to make it work for many years. But I fear that I have discovered that I am not one of them.

The other thing I get yelled at about often is distance. Yes, an hour's drive is just too damn far away! I don't plan on spending that much time commuting to see my boyfriend, and I certainly don't expect him to always make the trip to see me. I need attention in an exclusive relationship, and having that much driving time in order to see each other cannot possibly give me the kind of attention that I am looking for.

Now, all that being said, back to "Mr. Toad": He kept pushing... What could it hurt? Why can't we just have dinner? I'll come to you. Well, how could I possibly argue with that? No, it wouldn't hurt for us to have dinner. It surprises me how men will insist on taking you out even after you've told them that you aren't interested. Then they ask "What could it hurt for us just to have dinner?" How do you answer that? Well, of course it wouldn't hurt just to have dinner...

So I agreed on dinner. We met at this little sports bar near my house. He had injured his ankle earlier that week, so he was hobbling on it pretty bad. But we had a nice dinner and stimulating conversation. He certainly didn't look 47 by any stretch of the imagination. When we decided to leave, and he was hobbling through the parking lot, I noticed that his ankle was visibly swollen, and I felt bad, knowing he had an hour's drive ahead of him. I'm sure he thought there was hidden meaning in this, but I suggested that we go back to my house and put some ice on his ankle. It was REALLY swollen. And that's exactly what we did. We just sat on the couch for about an hour talking while he put an ice pack on his ankle. He finally said that he needed to head home and I walked him out to his car.

He gave me a hug good-bye and it was a really nice hug. And as he pulled away, he kissed me. I hadn't anticipated kissing him, and I wasn't really attracted to him physically, but the kiss was really nice, so I kept kissing him. We stood out in my driveway, with long kisses and wandering hands, and, to my surprise, it was really nice. But he kept grabbing my hands and putting them on his chest. Now, when I'm kissing someone, I like to let my hands wander... shoulders, neck, through the hair, down the back. But he kept pushing my hands to his chest. Finally, I pulled away and asked "Mr. Toad" what he was doing?

"I just love to have my nipples played with! If that's the only oral I get tonight, I'll be happy!"

Ummmm.... Oooookaaaaaay.... Well, it's getting late and I really should be getting to bed. You have a safe ride home....

Chapter 18: Isn't This Just The Way?

2011-05-27T23:17:00.002-04:00

Didn't have to wait a week. He beat me to the punchline. I was Instant Messaging with him one night and expressed a desire for some quality cuddle time. This prompted "Mickey" to get serious awfully quickly and I wasn't sure why. Of course, he was drunk, too, so he was rambling in circles.

He said that he wasn't feeling the "sexual chemistry" between us. It was hard to believe considering the "sexual chemistry" we already had. And he had a difficult time explaining it. Being drunk wasn't helping, but he kept rambling about how beautiful I was (okay... thanks?), how much I have to offer a guy (well, I do try), but that he didn't think he could be with me (this makes sense?). He claimed he was a mess (tell me something I don't know...), a mess I didn't want to get involved with (okay, I was already thinking that), that he was shallow (did this mean he thought I was fat?) and that I would be better off without him (that line is older than me).

Whatever, I don't have time for those kinds of complications. He said he wanted to keep in touch, I said sure, and bade him good night. If he wanted to keep talking, he could call. I had better things to do with my time than to chase a lost cause, one I was unsure of from the start anyway.

The classiest part of this? Was this over dinner? On the phone? In a letter (even an email?) No, I actually got broken up with on IM... Welcome to the 21st Century.

Lesson Number Eleven: Listen to your instincts. They are usually right.

Status: Might need another lesson or two, but pretty much learned.

Chapter 17: Can You Say, "Red Flag?"

2011-05-25T09:34:00.000-04:00

So I was getting to know "Mickey" more each day. And I was really starting to worry about whether or not I wanted to get involved with him. Initially, his lifestyle seemed attractive to me. He had a stable job that gave me the impression that he was in a respectable income range, and he owned his own house in a pretty nice area. It wasn't a swanky place in the middle of midtown or anything, but it was nice. He dressed nice, kept a clean house, and liked to spoil himself with the little extras. On paper, he seemed to be a pretty good catch.

But the more I talked to him the more I found out that his lifestyle wasn't something I wanted to be involved in. He liked to... shall we say... self-medicate a lot. Almost every night he would drink to the point of getting drunk, which is usually about the time he would call me. I also listened to several stories about him obtaining prescriptions for pain killers, muscle relaxers, anti-depressants, and sleep-aids.

The clincher story was when he told me that his buddy would pass through town every once in a while and he liked to buy an 8-ball off of him for fun. I wondered how often this guy was actually sober. My ex-husband had a marijuana addiction, so I was perfectly aware of how destructive addictions can be. Was it worth it to put myself right back into that position?

But on the other hand, I wasn't planning on marrying him. We weren't even "exclusive" yet. And we had fun together. He was always so flattering to me, during phone calls, in emails, and being together. I liked the attention, and I was lonely. As long as it stayed casual, what was so wrong with spending a little time together?

Maybe give it another week....

Chapter 16: Is this something?

2011-05-23T14:36:00.000-04:00

I had teased "Mickey" about the fact that he didn't even have to take me out to dinner to get lucky. And after he left that night, I questioned myself, my morals, and my own actions. What did I do? Hadn't I learned my lesson yet? Granted, I hadn't exactly been sleeping with every guy I'd met, but the countless encounters I'd had with no follow up phone calls and disappearing acts should have been a giant neon sign that said "GET A CLUE!"

But then my conscious went into a different mode. What was I worried about? I hadn't been totally sure that he was someone I wanted to get involved with anyway. I was horny, I wanted to get laid, and I did. It would be nice if he called, but if he didn't, would it really bother me? The truth was: not particularly.

But to my surprise and delight, he called. The very next day. Very nice - show a little class - points for "Mickey!" I think I mentioned previously that there was some drama going on in other aspects of my life, which doesn't have a whole lot of bearing on my dating world, so I won't bother illustrating it. But "Mickey" earned a lot of points with me by picking up on the fact that I was distracted by other things and wanted me to talk about it. I didn't really feel like telling him, and I never really did, but his consistent offers to listen if I wanted to talk, or even just to give me a hug if I needed it, were very comforting. I actually kind of liked it. Having a man be concerned about me, even making an effort to be around - WITHOUT the obvious ulterior motive of getting laid at the end of the night. Color me: "Impressed!"

A couple of days later, and I was still receiving a once a day phone call. It was nice. I was feeling particularly lonely one evening when he called, so an invite to his house was welcome. He didn't imply anything more than offering me a drink of a special liqueur he had recently obtained, and maybe hang out and watch some TV. Quality cuddle time! So I went over.

And that's exactly how it happened. We had a few drinks, talked, kissed, and cuddled. But I wanted more... and I let him know that. I needed to be wanted, and loved, and it didn't take long before we ended up in his bedroom. I didn't go over there to have sex with him that night, but it was exactly what I needed. And as I drove home that night, I began to question myself. Was this me falling for someone? Or was it just my desperation to have someone pay attention to me? He had some red flags that bothered me, and he wasn't, by any stretch of the imagination, the man of my dreams. Was my vulnerable state of desperation setting myself up for heartbreak or, more likely, was I setting HIM up to have his heart broken by me? Was I just using him because he was paying me a little bit of attention? Or was this how relationships start?

Maybe I could just let this one ride for a little bit and see where it was going. Easier not to over-analyze it and let it either grow or wither on its own.

Chapter 15: Lookout! A live one!

2011-05-21T07:11:00.000-04:00

Another contact on Match.com. I'll be perfectly honest, I tried to blow "Mickey" off in the beginning. I thought he lived too far away (as commuting has become the bane of my existence) and, according to his profile, he was interested in someone of a Christian faith and who doesn't smoke. I am neither of these. And I told him that upfront, thinking that it might turn him off to keep contacting me. After all, weeding through all these men in an efficient manner had become crucial. The less time wasted on communication if you aren't interested, the better, right?

Well, my tactic for turning him off didn't work. "Mickey" pointed out that we actually were only about a 20 minute drive away from each other, (MapQuest said that it was more like 45 minutes) and that his desire for a Christian wasn't really based in any deep-rooted faith. As far as me smoking, he proceeded to tell me that his mother died of lung cancer. While the actual act of smoking didn't bother him, he just was still very emotional about what it did to his mother. (Which, by the way, made me feel about 2" tall.)

And he kept pursuing. Nothing I said would deter him, and, in most cases, was actually drawing him to me more. So when he finally asked me out, I just couldn't say no. We didn't have a real plan, but he was to pick me up and we would decide where to go when he got here. The internet rules of safety had occurred to me, and that I shouldn't have let him come to my house to pick me up. All of this was still very new to me, though, and I was still exploring how to handle being safe without coming across as being paranoid.

So "Mickey" arrived (on time) and I invited him in for a drink so we could discuss where we were going to go. We had some wine and were just gabbing away, not really discussing where we were going to go at all. He was better looking in person than his pictures, and he had a great body. He looked very sexy in his rich black cotton t-shirt and beige slacks. Did I really find him sexy or was I just getting desperate to get laid?

Thirty minutes later, we were still sipping Merlot and chatting with not even a suggestion as to what we were going to do or where we were going to go. I went into the kitchen to refill our glasses and he followed me. When I turned around, he was standing very close to me, slipped his arms around me and began to kiss me. Kissing turned to necking, necking turned to petting, and before I knew it, I was dragging him upstairs to have my way with him. Unlike my previous experience, "Mickey" was fabulous. Twice. ;)

Chapter 14: Next?

2011-05-18T02:52:00.001-04:00

Another day, another contact on Match.com. Tall (always a plus), cute (with a boyish charm) and quite down-to-Earth (quite attractive quality). By this point, the whole email/IM dance was becoming old and time consuming to me. The quicker I could ascertain whether I wanted to get to know a guy better, or put him on the cut list, the better off I'd be. So we graduated to the phone rather quickly. He asked me out to dinner right off the bat, and I accepted. Then we talked for a bit.

"Sleepy" had a less than animated personality, and I found myself wondering if I should regret accepting a date so quickly. I tried asking questions to draw him out, but his answers were short and there were a lot of awkward silences. Grrrreat. Let's not jump to conclusions - some people are just not phone people. Maybe he'd be better in person?

We met at a Mexican restaurant, and my fears were confirmed. Conversation was not his strong point. My inquires accelerated into his past, hoping to draw him out some, and the next thing I know, I'm listening to his monochromatic voice telling me a tale of woe about his whole family, his estranged father, and the death of an uncle that was about to cause some major estate disputes amongst him and his kin. How was I supposed to react to this? I listened, tried to be understanding, asking for clarification about things when it didn't make sense, but in all, it was more drama than I was willing to handle on a first date.

I excused myself right after dinner, claiming some other responsibility that needed taking care of that night, and he was gracious about it. Here's a hint: Weekday dates give you an opportunity to leave early, as work or other errands are perfectly understandable for an early night.

Lesson Number Ten: The email/IM/phone dance is annoying and you may feel at times you'd rather have a root canal than start over ONE MORE TIME, but it has its purpose.

Status: Learned.

Follow-up: "Sleepy" did call for a second date, but I was so frustrated by it all that I told him that I wanted to take a break from dating for a while. (There was some other drama happening in my life too, but I shant go there....) I did take my profile down off Match for a few days, but it was becoming an addiction, and I had it back up within a week.

Chapter 13: This looks promising...

2011-05-14T11:49:00.000-04:00

So, thankfully, "Manny" didn't try to call me again. Something tells me that Caller ID would have come in QUITE handy if he had. Maybe not. I try to pride myself on being honest and upfront in all cases. I suppose I would have told him that I didn't feel a connection the next time he called, and if he insisted on contacting me, then I would have to start avoiding him. Fortunately, I didn't have to find out how I would have handled it.

I'd been contacted by "Buzz" on Yahoo Personals. He was a self-admitted sci-fi geek, but he was really adorable. And he was smart. He may have been interested in role-playing games, but he wasn't all-consumed with it to the point that made him "weird." And he was too damn cute to be "geeky". :)

We exchanged a few emails, graduated to Instant Messenger, and I was becoming more intrigued with every conversation. Due to my own naivety, my inexperience in this adult-dating world, and, I suppose, my own lack of self-restraint, several of the Instant Message conversations got frisky. I'll admit it, I was getting ancy. While I had seemingly had plenty of dates, quite a few kisses, and even a little play mixed in, I had not actually been sexual with anyone except for that one disaster with “Horace” that was so awful. Here I've been officially back out in the dating world for over 3 months, and I haven't gotten any action yet? There HAD to be better out there, right?

We set up a dinner date, and I had every intention of having dinner with this guy and then taking him home with me. I had essentially let him know this in no uncertain terms as well. We met for dinner at the Macaroni Grill. Dinner was great. We seemed to have a good bit to talk about and the conversation flowed without any awkward silences. I was feeling a connection, and I was just weighing my options on how to act on them. The bill came and the first awkward silence came as the unspoken question of, "What do we do now?" floated between us. I asked him if he wanted to go somewhere else, not sure if I should be so bold as to ask him back to my house.

He paused, took a deep breath, and smiled at me while telling me that he wanted to be honest in that he just wasn't feeling a connection between us. My first reaction was, "Well, shit..." But then I realized that I appreciated him being upfront more than he could know. He wasn't feeling it, and he let me know that. No promises of a phone call tomorrow, no avoiding, or ignoring, and no disappearing act. THIS is what adult dating should be like, shouldn't it? Honest, upfront, mature, and no games.

So I was rejected, but at the same time, given a new cause for hope that dating in my 30's might actually have some merit. I don't actually know why "Buzz" wasn't attracted to me. Maybe my laugh was too loud, maybe I was too heavy for him, maybe there was a piece of spinach stuck in my teeth all night. But you know what? it doesn't matter why. Because he told me with all honesty, I accepted it, and never thought twice about the fact that I never heard from him again. Way to go, Buzz!

Lesson Number Nine: Keep it casual, don't take rejection personally, and all will be well that ends well.

Status: Ehhhh... Only half-way learned.

Chapter 12: Full Disclosure?

2011-05-11T16:40:00.000-04:00

So I was starting to get a lot more attention on Match.com. I failed to mention earlier, also, that a friend of mine convinced me to sign up with Yahoo personals, too. She was apparently having a lot of luck there, but so far, I can say that I haven't been too thrilled with it. I've sent out my share of messages, and I've received my share of messages, but it's a very rare occasion where someone I'm interested in responds to me, or I am interested in someone who contacts me. But Match was proving to be a lot of fun. I was exchanging emails with quite a few people, and I could see how it might be an excellent way to meet a lot of people. I was starting to wonder how people actually met before the Internet was invented? How else could I possibly meet so many different types of people from so many different backgrounds? This was proving to be quite interesting!

So I was contacted by "Manny", who seemed really outgoing, fun-loving, and a bit of a redneck, but he sparked my interest. So I gave him my phone number so he could call me. And call me, he did. Now, normally I would not dedicate an entire entry to someone I didn't even meet in person, but this was just too good not to share.

We were on the phone for about 20 minutes. And I do believe I said all of 7 words in that entire time. For 20 some-odd minutes I listened to a stream of consciousness from "Manny", a seemingly well-rehearsed speech of: this is who I am, this is what I do, this is what my business is like, this is how I treat my employees, this is how much money I make, this is how I handle my money, this is what I like to do for fun, these are my hobbies, this is what my last girlfriend was like, this is why we broke up, this is what my experience on Match has been like, this is what my ROOMMATE'S experience on Match has been like, this is what my dog is like, this is the kind of girl I like, and this is what I like to do on a date.....

By the time I hung up, I was cross-eyed... Did I want to meet? I THINK NOT!

Lesson Number Eight: Not going well? Cut it loose sooner rather than later!

Status: Done well... Maybe not totally learned, but achieved.

Chapter 11: Redirection

2011-05-10T04:54:00.000-04:00

So "Goofy" was really distracting my thoughts away from "Tramp". Since he was on the Force in the same city I worked in, I found myself scoping the streets everyday on my way in, or at lunch, or even on my way home if I got off early enough. I would see him most mornings, in that sexy uniform, on the side of the road having pulled someone over. (He wasn't a very forgiving cop.) Once or twice we saw each other on the road, or stopped at a red light next to each other and exchange some flirty smiles and chat.

A couple of phone calls later, but no second date. I'll admit, I tried prompting him to tell me if he wanted to see me again. He proceeded to tell me that he'd had a lot on his mind and admitted that he'd been offered a job opportunity in another city in another state VERY far away. He was sincere, and I believed him. While this wasn't an official "kiss-off" conversation, it was easy for me to read between the lines. It made me feel a little easier about letting it go knowing that his main reason for not pursuing me was that he didn't want to get tangled up in a love affair if he knew he was moving. At least, that's what I told myself.

Now that I was officially able to let "Goofy" go, it didn't take long before my thoughts wandered over to "Tramp" again. It occurred to me that I was probably attracted to "Goofy" because he took my mind off "Tramp", but then it also occurred to me that I was able to let Goofy go so easily because I had some closure with him. And I hate having to say that. It is the cheesiest girl-thing out there... this whole craze about "closure". Sometimes I just want to slap MYSELF upside the head and scream, "HEY, BOZO! NO ANSWER *IS* YOUR ANSWER!" But no, my irrationale kicks in and has to "hear" the words, hear the rejection, feel the finality of it. Not knowing or understanding why “Tramp” disappeared like he did was still consuming me from the inside out. The only thing that was going to help was to put some serious distance between me and the “Tramp.”

Hence I began a "First Date Feeding Frenzy."

Go back and read Lesson Number Six: Don't obsess. Move on.

Status: Still Oblivious

Chapter 10: Is it hopeless?

2011-05-08T05:05:00.001-04:00

So over the previous few weeks, I'd been in contacted by this police officer through Match.com. I had to admit that “Goofy” was doing "the chase" and it was quite flattering. With everything that had gone on with "Tramp" I had been too consumed to invest any time into anyone else, really. But we had kept up some casual email banter, and now he was itching to talk on the phone.

I wondered if my bust of a date with “Dumbo” was indicative of any date I might try to have until I could get “Tramp” out of my head. Would my unconscious "bar" be set to “Tramp?” Would I be able to be interested in someone that I didn't find as intelligent, or sexy, or charming? Regardless, I had to try.

So “Goofy” was certainly working it. He was attentive and funny, and he seemed quite interested in me. After all, he'd been diligently chasing me on email for several weeks at this point and had not seemed turned off that I had kept him at arm's length. I wasn't extremely physically attracted to him from his pictures, but he was kind of adorable in a goofy (pun intended) kind of way. He had great personality, though, and I could tell that he seemed like a genuinely happy person. By amazing coincidence, he served in the same city that I worked in, so a lunch date was the obvious choice. We agreed to meet at a cute little hole in the wall place we both knew of that served really amazing food, as cute little holes in the wall tend to do.

When I arrived at the café, I was pleasantly surprised. He was better looking and even more charming in person. He was no fox, by any stretch of the imagination, but the uniform certainly didn't hurt. We girls like men in uniforms, you know. I found myself smiling and playing with my hair A LOT. I felt a tad in the spotlight while we ate our lunch, as people kept staring at him in his prestigious uniform. What? Do people think that cops don't eat? Or maybe it's because we were at a real restaurant and not a Dunkin' Donuts or a Waffle House?

It was a great lunch. I hated having to leave. But alas, both of our jobs were demanding that we return. He walked me to my car and opened my door for me. I've had my door opened plenty of times when I was getting in the passenger side of my date's car, but no one had ever opened the door of MY car for me to get in and drive away. We shared a very tight hug and agreed to talk soon. As I drove back to my office, it occurred to me that I had not thought about "Tramp" in over an hour... And I liked that.

Chapter 9: What is the best way to get over an old love?

2011-05-05T20:43:00.000-04:00

Find a new love, right? So “Dumbo” starts contacting me through Match. He was a little different than I would normally go after. A little southern, built, not scrawny, your typical jock. And he was a jock... He told me he was a basketball coach for a large college here in Georgia. (Keeping it anonymous... won't tell you the school :-P) He also told me that he had a PhD in physical education administration. A PhD? Really??? As I've gotten older, I've realized that intelligence is quite the turn on to me! I realize, of course, that a PhD in Physical Education isn't exactly your Nobel Prize scholar, but a PhD is a PhD, and they aren't easy to get, regardless of the field!

We passed emails back and forth for several days. “Dumbo” was flirty, confident, and very eager to meet me. I thought it might be adventurous and spontaneous to try not talking on the phone first. We kept it on email only, and decided to meet one evening in a park. We ended up spending a lot of time kissing and very little time talking. Which, in reality, I had to admit that it was for the best, because every time he opened his mouth, he had the vocabulary of a 10th grader. PhD? You CAN'T be serious???

During this kiss-fest, I realized that I was trying (very poorly, mind you) to capture the intensity of the connection I'd had with “Tramp.” Maybe I was being a bit vengeful, too. Not that he would know it, but something, somewhere, in the miniscule corners of my brain, told me that if I could get excited about someone else, I wouldn't obsess over why he vanished so abruptly. But even while I was kissing “Dumbo,” I couldn't help but compare how great the kisses were the night “Tramp” came over.

Eventually I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I called it a night with “Dumbo.” He claimed he had to go anyway to catch an early flight to do some recruiting at another college, and he'd call me when he came back in town. Of course I saw him online most of the day the next day (early flight, huh?), and didn't exactly go out of my way to contact him. And it should come as no surprise that he didn't exactly go out of his way to call when he supposedly came back into town.

In retrospect, I realize that I was so desperate to find someone that would take my mind off of “Tramp,” that I didn't really bother to take the time to get to know “Dumbo.” Call a spade a spade. It was a rebound, and I would imagine that he realized something was REALLY off. But let's face it... His 10th grade vocabulary wasn't about to sustain me on ANY level for any length of time.

Lesson Number Seven: Don't romanticize the idea of someone just because they look good on paper. Do some homework, and listen to your instincts.

Status: Pretty well learned.

Chapter 8: Exactly at what point did I lose my spine?

2011-05-03T20:13:00.001-04:00

So it should come as no surprise that I never heard from him again. Did I try to contact him? You bet your booty I did. I don't really believe I turned "stalker" on him or anything. First, I was pissed that he never contacted me to let me know whether or not he was coming with me to the party, and I let him know that. Then I just wanted to know what went wrong, and I tried asking him that, too. I would have to say that, over the course of the next two weeks, I probably called 2-3 times and sent 3-4 emails. Excessive? Yes. But psycho? Not hardly.

About three weeks after the night he came over, he did contact me. A simple email that just said "Hey, what are you doing?" as if nothing had ever happened. I responded playfully at first, then apparently I got a little too snippy for him when I asked him to what did I owe this honour, and he cut off all contact again.

Yes, I was crushed. I was beyond crushed. How could I have invested that much time and energy into one man, only to be completely snowed over by the fact that he was just looking for kicks on a Wednesday night? How could he have spent that much time on the phone with me, talking to me, opening up to me, getting to know me, only to run for the hills with no explanation at all? What could I have possibly said or done that left “Tramp” no choice but to disappear off the face of the Earth like that?

If any of you have ever watched "Sex and the City", you may recall an episode where Carrie's boyfriend assessed a first date that Miranda had been on by saying, "He's just not that into you." All of a sudden, it became so clear to Miranda. Guys don't send mixed messages, they don't analyze things, they don't manipulate actions or situations to predict the outcome. If a man is into a girl, he calls, he books the next date immediately, he shows that he's interested and he chases. And if he's not? No amount of overtures from the girl will change his mind. This simple phrase, "He's just not that into you," inspired a book, written by two of the writers of the show. I have read this book. There is a whole chapter on the "Disappearing Act." And Liz says it perfectly as to why this is so hard on a woman:

"Breakups are horrible. But what's even worse than a breakup is knowing that you weren't even worth a breakup."

Any woman will tell you that the QUICKEST way to turn the most laidback, easy -going woman into a complete nut job is to ignore her. Works on most guys, too, really. It's so incredibly cheesy to me, and I hate to even admit it, but it's absolutely true: We need CLOSURE. We don't WANT to leave loose ends hanging, with no idea what may or may not happen in the future. Will he come back? Should I let him? Is he angry about something? If it's a misunderstanding, I ought to be able to at least clear my name before he takes off, shouldn't I? If he doesn't have feelings for me, shouldn't he just TELL me that? Why do something SO CRUEL as to leave me in the dark, wondering? Why would anyone want to be SO CRUEL to another person?

Excessive? Obsessive? Grandiose? Good grief, yes it is. I HATE it when my mind starts spiraling like that. But I admit it, I've done it. With absolutely no input from the other person, my mind will just spiral into the craziest places and I just HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT! I'd much rather get that "closure" and just know that it's done, or know that it's just not the right time, or just know that the guy is an absolute prick, or just know ANYTHING! But no, men avoid conflict at all costs. It's much easier for them to just avoid the discussion that will probably cause her to cry, maybe even yell and scream, but guys, this one act will make it easier for us move on afterward. So nut up, go ahead and listen to the crying and take the insults and screaming that she throws at you, (admit it, you probably deserve some of it, if not all of it) and end things properly. It's a few minutes' worth of your time, compared to the weeks, or even months, of mental torture we go through when you pull the Disappearing Act.

Lesson Number Six: Don't obsess. Move on.

Status: Still Oblivious

Chapter 7: What Kind Of Game Is This?

2011-05-01T02:10:00.001-04:00

So, the deal was that “Tramp” and I were going to try again to meet the next night, right? WRONG! We ended up on the phone AGAIN, discussing this twit AGAIN. During this conversation he tells me that he realizes that now is not a good time for him to be starting anything with anybody. Gee, ya think? He tells me that he likes me too much to do that to me. (Nice move, that.) He tells me that he respects me too much to get me involved in his drama. (Again, nice move.) So we agreed to "just be friends." When I hung up with him that night, I figured that was that.

Well, okay, I did stop to consider that if he put some distance between himself and this girl, and was able to regain a little perspective on himself, he would start remembering all the great talks we had, and I thought I might hear from him in about 2-3 weeks. Didn't take 2-3 weeks. Took 2 days.

He started sending me flirty little emails and we did the virtual flirting thing for about a week or so. And then we graduated to the phone again. No freaky-freaky this time. This time, it looked as if we were actually becoming friends. Don't get me wrong, I still wanted to do this guy six ways to Sunday. But I was okay with just being friends, too. The more I got to know him, the more I knew that he was someone I wanted in my life, regardless of the capacity.

So I'm at my neighbor's house one night, drinking an awful lot of wine and having a pretty good time, when my phone rings. Do I really need to say who it was?

"Hello?"
"Hey, what are you doing?"
"Over at my neighbor's house, hanging out."
"Oh, I didn't mean to bother you."
"You're not bothering me. What's up?"
"I just had a fight with her."
(Rolling my eyes)
"What happened?"
He goes into the whole scenario.
"Do you want to come over?" (YES, I know! I was drunk and stupid, okay?)
"Thinking about it..."
"Well, why don't you come over here to my neighbor's house? We'll all hang out and have some wine."
"No, I don't want to be around a bunch of people."
"Okay... Do you want me to go home and you come over?"
"I would really appreciate it."
"Alright..."

Even drunk I knew that it was a very stupid thing to invite him over when he was pissed off at his ex-girlfriend that he was still in love with. But as giddy as I was, I ran home and primped, waiting with bated breath for my door bell to ring. And then “Tramp” was there.

Okay, I'll admit that I didn't find him as foxy in person as I had imagined he would be based on his picture. A little scrawnier than I'd imagined, a little geekier than I imagined, and a little goofy to top it all off. But I didn't care. It was HIM. He was in my house. I wanted him, and I knew I wanted him. We talked and laughed for a while, but eventually my wine-buzz got the better of me and I took a chance. I made the first move. Hell, I didn't just make the first move, I flat out attacked him! And he was not unresponsive to me, either. He was an even better kisser than I imagined he'd be. So things got a little hot and heavy... But before they could get REALLY hot and heavy, he stopped me.

"I can't do this to you. I care too much about you to drag you into my emotional mess. If I didn't care, I'd be upstairs banging you right now." (Again, nice move. You can't ever be really sure if a line like that is the truth, a really good line, or just a flat out rejection.)

So we hung out and talked a little more and eventually I walked him out to his car. We hugged and kissed for a little while longer. He said a lot of really wonderful things to me then. He told me I was a really good friend. He thanked me for putting up with him. He was worried I wouldn't want to talk to him anymore and asked if he could call me the next day. I assured him that I still wanted him to be a part of my life and asked him if he wanted to hang out that weekend. (I had a party to go to Saturday night.) He said he was interested, bade me good night with a few more kisses, and left.

As you can imagine, I was floating on air. I had myself convinced that, with a little patience, a little tolerance, a little charm, and a little finesse, “Tramp” WAS MINE.

Lesson Number Five: Spontaneous DOES NOT have to mean Impulsive. Take the blinders off!

Status: Oblivious

Chapter 6: Could It Be?

2011-04-29T04:43:00.002-04:00

Told ya I'd come back to the story :-D

I was still on a high three days later from my perfect phone call. But after three days and not hearing from him, I began to question my actions. Remember a time when we girls used to worry about whether or not we would get a bad reputation from letting a guy go to second base? Was it possible that I still needed to play these kind of games even in my 30's? Was there really no difference in being an adult compared to being a teenager? Hadn't “Tramp” initiated the frisky phone call? Hadn't “Tramp” been the one to advocate the idea that you should just be who you are, in the raw, and not try to hide anything, or dance around anything? Was he really turned off by the fact that we'd taken a phone call to that level and seriously wasn't even interested in trying out the real thing?

After four days of torture, checking my email obsessively, and making sure my voicemail wasn't "accidentally" not notifying me that I had a message waiting, I finally heard from him. Out of town, he claimed. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't. Who cares? He was on the phone now, and it was just as awesome as the first time. We talked, we laughed, we took shots at each other at every opportunity and laughed our asses off at each one. Every moment I spent talking to this man, just proved to me more and more that he was everything I'd ever looked for. I was just waiting to find out that the picture I'd seen wasn't really of him, and he looked like a troll or something... So it was another two-hour marathon phone call with the same finale. Even better. I believe at this point I was so turned on by this guy that he could have turned out to be as pathetic in reality as the last one, and it still would be incredible. We made plans to finally meet the following night and I started counting down the minutes.

The plan was that I would call him when I became available in the afternoon, even though he wouldn't be available yet, and then he would call me back when he was available and we'd meet somewhere. So, as planned, I called him, and then found myself banging my head into the wall because I had unwittingly put myself in a position to have to wait around for him. And wait, I did. I finally heard from him when it was too late to meet. And then I proceeded to listen to the LAST thing I expected to hear.

For the next three hours, I listened to “Tramp” tell me how he wasn't over his ex-girlfriend. This was a woman who had NOTHING to offer him, 10 years younger, uneducated, and, from the way he made it sound, a complete gold-digging player. But he was hooked and had spoken to her earlier and gotten into a fight with her. WHY was I listening to this? For THREE hours, no less? However, after this marathon bitch-session, he said he felt a lot better, and thanked me for talking him down. And, after feeling so connected to me, decided to try to get frisky again. I couldn't do it. I just couldn't go from "Tell me about your ex-girlfriend" and downshift to "Let's get sexy" that quick. He actually pitched a little fit over it, but realized that it wasn't the right time, and we bade each other good night and promised to attempt to meet again the next night.

Believe me, I am not a fool, regardless of how much I sound like one at the moment, and, truth be known, I felt like one at that moment. EVERYTHING about this guy told me to RUN! And run AS FAST AS I CAN. I certainly did not need to get tangled up with some guy who was obsessing over his little twit of a girlfriend. But I couldn't deny it, I was mentally, emotionally, intellectually, and physically hooked on this man, and I just had to see it play out.

Lesson Number Four: Pay attention to the red flags. They are red for a reason.

Status: Nowhere NEAR learning that one.

I need to stray from the format for just a minute.

2011-04-27T15:31:00.001-04:00

Don't worry, I will continue with the tale in the next post :)

But I've been mentally shredded for the last week now and I just need to talk about it, maybe come to some realization, conclusion, or otherwise try to make sense of this. And, as these are personal blogs, we all have license to take these little breaks in format without too much guilt or worry that the casualness of such a shift will be disapproved of.

I've been rather lucky in my lifetime, in that I've never found myself in a physically abusive relationship. Most of my girlfriends have. I had one incident about 4 years ago, where the man I was dating tossed me around a hotel room in Las Vegas a bit, but there were never any actual "blows" to either one of us. I sported a bruise or two on my arms for a few days, and the relationship came to an abrupt end.

I remember that I scared myself, in that I didn't immediately jump to "You're outta here!" I had seen my friends beaten and battered into submission so many times that I would proudly proclaim that any man who dare raise a hand to me, wouldn't be around long enough to pull it back. And the first time it happened? I found myself clinging to the possibility that it was fixable. I tried to convince him to work it out. I'm actually quite grateful that he was stronger than I was at the time, and refused.

I do not have a boyfriend, and I am not even remotely romantically involved with anyone. I started a self-proclaimed sabbatical from relationships over a year ago, and I am less stressed and happier for it. (Less complications, you know?) So I wonder, would I immediately crumple again if I was romantically involved with a man who became physically violent towards me?

I say all this as a lead in: About a week ago, a man who I met just over six months ago, turned violent on me. He is EXTREMELY gay, and with me on sabbatical, our friendship just made sense. We grew quite close rather quickly, and intensely, closer than I can say I've had in many many years, maybe decades. We are both currently experiencing hardships in our lives, albeit in different areas, and are both looking to sort of "start over." He needs to leave his current living situation, and was moving in with me, as my roommate.

I've never had a roommate before. My MOM lived here for the first 4 years I had this place, and even though our relationship became much more liberated than most mother-daughter relationships, she was still my mom, and not really a roommate. And then there was my husband for about 5 years, obviously not a roommate. So this was going to be a challenge to me, and I knew there would be some growing pains. So did he. (Who, by the way, had almost all his life lived with a roommate or lover, and rarely alone.)

Okay, long story short, we were not able to work through the growing pains. It got bad. I got pushed down the stairs, clothes ripped and even blood running down the side of my face before it was over.

I find myself in a unique position, that I would imagine very few women would ever be in. This man was not my boyfriend. I was not in love with him. We were not physically intimate with each other. We did, however, have an unexpected, deep, and intense friendship, and cared about each other a great deal. I am no fool. I know that there is no fixing it. He crossed a line, and you just can't uncross it. He may have never hit a woman before, and he may never hit a woman again, but he did hit me, hard enough to bleed. His mind has been there, and it can go back. It's not "forbidden" territory anymore.

But I was able to better understand why women are so quick to forgive and attempt to make the union work. The act itself was so enraged, so unplanned, and so impulsive. In mere seconds, our entire relationship was wiped out. Neither one of us really had a say or input into this result, and yet, we are both forced to terminate our friendship without warning, without discussion, and without a goodbye. I'm not used to having to make such large decisions without a sufficient amount of thought, debate, and reason. I have to accept this outcome and I don't get any say in it. It's a helpless place to be and I can't help but feel stunned and traumatized from it all. I don't WANT it, at all! I still love him dearly, still worry about the issues he's having to face on his own now, without me there, as I have been for the last six months, every step of the way. I still worry about the issues I now face alone, when I had thought my best friend would be standing by me so I didn't have to deal with it all alone, either.

I do want to call him. I do want to just forget that it happened, go back to the way things used to be. I want to convince myself that we are two mature adults that can certainly keep that kind of thing in check, it will never happen again. But no. We went to a place that had been "forbidden" and now it's tainted, like butterfly wings. I know that this is the case, I know that I can't change it, I know that I must accept that he can never again be a part of my life.

But I tell you what... It fuckin' sucks.

Chapter 5: Stubborn? Or a glutton for punishment?

2011-04-26T19:49:00.000-04:00

Okay, so after that disaster, and a few more weeks, I quickly began to realize that HurryDate.com sucks. (Yes, this my shameless endorsement - DON'T WASTE YOUR TIME!) I was at home, poking around on this useless site, completely regretting spending any money with them, when a commercial comes on the TV for Match.com. So I thought, "Why the hell not?" And signed up. (One more shameless endorsement - If you're looking for exposure, looking to be able to meet A LOT of people, and looking to have a lot of fun? Try Match.com. I'm not saying you will meet the person of your dreams there, but you will have a lot of fun trying. :-P )

So here we are, now in April, and I find myself signed up on THREE, count 'em, THREE internet dating sites? For someone who thought that the whole idea was weird, how did this happen??? So I set up my profile, uploaded a few pictures, and let Match do their thing. Who was out there that fit my criteria and also looking for someone like me? My "Mutual Match" list came up and at the top of the list, with an 80% compatibility was a picture that actually made me stop and hold my breath for a second. Wow... look at this guy... I couldn't click fast enough to read his profile.

And wouldn't you know? CHARMING! UTTERLY CHARMING! The whole thing, everything he said. Just the right mix of honesty, sarcasm, humor, and wit. He conveyed confidence, intelligence, and magnetism. Now, don't get me wrong, he wasn't some Adonis-Brad Pitt look alike that I figured I would have a snowball's chance in hell with. But he was *MY* type: tall, lanky, with just the right amount of cocky, geeky, sexy, and swarthy all rolled into one. Without hesitation, I sent him a virtual "wink". And then I found myself obsessively checking about once an hour after that to see if he winked back or sent me an email.

The next day, I got my return "wink" from “Tramp.” WHOO HOO! He was interested. I'd love to be able to write that it turned out as a faery tale romance that rode off into the sunset, but here we are, over six months later, and I'm writing this blog, so it's safe to assume that things didn't happen that way. However, the proper build up is required here, and I think I will stretch this one out into several chapters.

Okay, time to turn on the charm! I'd never sent an email out like this before. How should I approach him so that he'd be jumping through hoops to meet me? I decided on a safe approach. If he was interested, maybe he'd like to know a little about me? So I wrote him an email, telling him how incredibly charming his profile was and how much I enjoyed reading it. I told him a little about me, where I went to college, and a few extracurricular activities I enjoy.

Three days, no response. What had I said wrong? How could I possibly have turned him off so quickly? My practical side told me to walk away. But my stubborn side said, "You said you were forward and aggressive on your profile... Why not just ASK “Tramp” what you said wrong? If you can't have him anyway, why not at least get some constructive criticism on how to do this in the future?" So that's exactly what I did: I wrote to him, and asked him for some advice on how to approach men in the future, since whatever I had said or done had turned him off.

Well, he responded... QUICKLY. I was ecstatic. We bounced a few emails back and forth and agreed to talk on the phone later. He gave me his number and I proceeded to sit on my hands as long as I could possibly stand it before I grabbed the phone and called him.

It was awesome. We talked for over two hours. About anything, everything. We laughed, we joked, it was like no holds barred. He held nothing back. He had no problem exposing who he was, warts and all. He was so comfortable about who he was, that it made me comfortable to just be who I am. I felt like I could just be myself, in the raw, with him. And, frankly, he preferred it that way. He would call me out on it if he sensed that I was holding something back. If this phone call never ended, I was fine with that. Sooner or later, as always seems to happen, the conversation got frisky. I'm not about to deny it: I wanted this guy. I wanted this guy like I hadn't wanted anybody in YEARS. Had he pushed me to meet him that night, just for sex, I probably would have said yes. But he didn't. :) However, when he took our phone conversation to an even friskier place, I certainly didn't stop him.

Let's just skip to the punchline. It was incredible. I always thought that phone sex was cheap and weird and stupid. I mean, how can you possibly enjoy anything with a phone attached to your ear? Okay, NOW I GET IT. It was awesome. I was officially smitten. “Tramp” was smart, he was sexy, he was stable, and I wanted him to be mine....

Chapter 4: Moving On...

2011-04-18T06:51:00.001-04:00

So my first Internet date was a bust. Well, that’s okay. Try, try again, right? I could see that I wasn’t going to get much action on eHarmony.com. No new matches had been found for me since I signed up. It occurred to me that Internet dating was so popular because you had such exposure to so many people across any given area. When I went out with my friends to the local places that we enjoyed to frequent, I realized very quickly that you end up seeing the same faces over and over again. There was no way that I was going to meet anyone new or exciting by remaining in the same network of people.

I was sitting at home one night, surfing around on Comcast’s On-Demand features, looking for a movie to watch, and I saw an option that said “Dating on Demand.” Huh? Dating on Demand? Oh, I had to check this out. And that’s exactly what it was! It was a collection of videos to a dating service. You didn’t get a whole lot of information about where each individual lived, but it kept directing me to the same website: HurryDate.com.

So I got online to check it out. HurryDate.com sponsors those Speed Dating events you hear about, where you get like 5 minutes with a person and then move to the next table. But you didn’t have to attend one of these events to sign up with them. You could create a profile and upload some pictures to meet people strictly from the site. Why not? I signed up. I listed all my “statistics” and then listed all the “stats” I’d prefer in a date. Let’s see what comes back. Considering the claim they had of their clientele, I didn’t receive back nearly as many matches as I thought I would… There were only about twelve. I looked over all of them, and there were two that struck my fancy. They had two ways to initiate contact. You could send an email to someone, or you could send a “virtual drink.” This was, of course, the quick way to point out to someone that you noticed him without the pressure of coming up with something witty and charming to say in an email. I sent a “drink” to the two men that struck my fancy. Neither one responded.

Then, I was contacted by “Horace.” He was blonde, pretty cute, and I was intrigued. We exchanged a few emails, and then graduated to the phone. It was a nice conversation. Not great, but not bad. He seemed a little dry, but we agreed to go out to dinner the following night. We met at Brio in Buckhead, Atlanta’s premier uptown area, so I was impressed with his choice. Dinner was a little awkward and there were lulls in the conversation, but overall it was nice. I hadn’t been mistaken, he definitely had a dry personality, but it wasn’t unbearable. After dinner, we did the after-date shuffle of, “What do we do next?” He wanted to come back to my house with me. I’m no fool. I knew what he wanted.

So now I was faced with a choice. I was over 30, not in high school anymore, and officially divorced. I didn’t have to say, “No, No, No,” anymore for fear of the bad-girl reputation I had in high school, right? This is 2005, and casual sex is quite common, if not accepted these days. The question was: did I want to have sex with THIS guy? I didn’t really feel any strong mental attraction to him, but I thought he was attractive. I knew that I would not have some great relationship with this man, regardless of what happened the rest of this evening. After being with no one but my ex-husband for the last seven years, part of me thought that I just needed to do it: Get that first one out of the way. It was against my better judgment, but I agreed, and he followed me home.

“Horace’s” finesse was less than stellar, to say the least. He made comments like, “This is a nice house, why don’t you show me the upstairs?” How classy. And I was still hesitating. It was all so contrived. Was this really how things went? Had I really been out of the loop this long? Did men really think it was okay to act like this? I even pointed out how cheesy it was that he kept making comments like, “Show me the bedroom,” but it didn’t make him stop doing it.

Alright, let’s skip to the punchline: We ended up in bed. And it was just AWFUL! I mean, it was really AWFUL! This man had no technique, no style, no stamina, and I swear that his idea of foreplay was, “Are you ready yet?” It lasted less than five minutes, but, I am an understanding woman, and these things happen. I was perfectly willing to allow him a Second Round to make a first impression. The second round was worst than the first. I couldn't get him out the door fast enough. When I finally DID get him out the door, he said, "I'll call you," and I said, "Sure," praying that I would never hear from him again. Thankfully, I did not.

I remember coming back inside and not sure how to define what I was feeling. Sort of a combination of embarrassed, humiliated, and ashamed. What a wasted notch on my belt! Was it just a "first time out" experience, and it didn't matter who it was, it would have been awful? Or was this guy truly just the most pathetic lover in Atlanta? Or, an even more chilling thought: Was this indicative of the standard of lovers there were out there? It scared me to think that I might actually regret getting a divorce.

Lesson Number Three: Be WAY more picky before you invite someone new into your bed, regardless of how cute he is.

Status: Learned. Learned WELL.

Chapter 3: Internet Dating?

2011-04-14T00:17:00.000-04:00

I attended a couple more Square Hatter’s events, and ran into my two new girlfriends. That was fun, but I didn’t meet any more “Jacques’.” And it was becoming obvious that attending Square Hatter’s events were going to become costly and time-consuming. It had been suggested to me that I try eHarmony.com. This was, of course, going against everything I believed when it came to meeting people online, but I decided to do a little research and see what it was about.

The eHarmony.com service is not like most dating websites. You do not “browse” through available profiles, and you don’t just start talking to people out of the blue. They have a very intense screening process that they put every member through before you are even allowed to sign up. Based on a personality profile, they match you up with people that they feel you would be most compatible with, based on your answers during this profile test. And, should you decide to communicate with a match, there is a 5-step process you go through before you can start openly communicating and exchanging contact information. I took the forty-five minute personality test and then waited patiently for eHarmony.com to show me who out there was my perfect match.

I got three hits. I had not yet paid any money to eHarmony.com. I looked over the three profiles they gave me, and still wasn’t convinced that this was something I needed to spend money on. I knew that I needed to purchase a membership if I was going to attempt to communicate with any of these individuals. There were no pictures available for me to look at, either. I read through the statistics of these men, and decided right off the bat that one of them wasn’t for me. The second one was a possibility, but certainly didn’t make me want to read more. The third one, however, “Timothy”, looked intriguing. I was still hesitant about paying for a membership. Maybe I’d think on it for a day or two.

The very next morning, I arrived at work to find an email from eHarmony.com, telling me that “Timothy” wanted to communicate with me. Wow, that didn’t take long. Out of the three matches they’d given me, “Timothy” was the one I liked, and he obviously liked what he saw, as well. To start talking to him, though, I had to put up some money. So I caved. I signed up and agreed to the 5-step communication process with “Timothy”. It was rather intimidating, to be honest. First you select five closed questions, with multiple choice answers for your match to answer, as does he. Then you select ten “Must Have” criteria, and ten “Can’t Stand” criteria that you require from a mate. If you both feel that you meet most, if not all, of these standards, you move on to the next step, which is choosing three open-ended questions that your match can answer in their own words. After all this, if you still want to talk, you are allowed to communicate openly through the eHarmony.com service with emails, maintaining anonymity.

You can also choose at what stage your match can see your pictures. I had mine visible from the get-go, but “Timothy” chose to wait until we were at the open communication stage to reveal his. And, HALLELUJAH! He was HOT! We exchanged phone numbers and finally managed to sync up on the phone on a Sunday night in Mid-March. Our first phone conversation was about two hours long. We were so much alike, it was almost creepy. By the end of the two hours, we were practically finishing each other’s sentences. Needless to say, I was excited! We discovered that our offices were only about two miles away from each other, so when he asked me to lunch on Tuesday, I couldn’t say “yes” fast enough.

He invited me to his favorite sushi place that he frequented for lunch. We bade each other good night and I immediately started mentally filtering through my closet to decide exactly the perfect outfit to wear. It couldn’t be too glamorous or revealing, as I would be at work. But I didn’t want it to be too casual, either, even though we all dressed rather casually at my office. I settled on a scoop necked top, a basic skirt, and my trusty boots.

Lunch was great. Great conversation, great food, and a great date! I will admit that he was not as tall as I’d thought he’d be, and he was a bit on the scrawny side, even for me. While I am a rather voluptuous woman, I tend to gravitate toward the tall, lanky men, but “Timothy” had an extremely slender build that his pictures had belied. However, we got along so well, I was truly looking forward to possibly exploring something more.

When lunch was over, and we both had to return to our jobs, we walked to our cars and did the end-of-date “shuffle,” trying to wrap it up in an acceptable way. He gave me a hug and little peck on my cheek. I guess I didn’t really expect a kiss, considering it was a lunch date, but it would have been nice. I had a feeling he’d be a good kisser. He said he wanted to see me again, and I mentioned that I was going to a party that Friday night, did he want to accompany me? He said he was interested and we’d be talking soon. I went back to work on a bit of a natural high. This might turn out to be something! As much as I hated to play the game, I knew I had to wait for him to call me. Friday was only three days away. I could wait.

Wednesday came and went with no word from “Timothy”. Was this normal? Should I be worried? What had I done wrong? What hadn’t I done right? Easy, now, don’t over-analyze, and don’t obsess. It’s not like he was required to call me the next day. But all day at work on Thursday, and still no word. I knew that I wasn’t about to make every man I dated spellbound, but what could I have possibly said or done that led “Timothy” not to even pick up a phone? Or send an email? I thought I had played this one perfectly. We had talked, flirted, and in general kept up a connection that I thought deserved a bit of exploration.

As I drove home from work, I decided to stop into my favorite little bar and have a drink or two. It was St. Patrick’s Day and there were several people there that I knew, celebrating the Irish holiday. So I posed the question to my acquaintances at the bar: What should I do? The girls all, of course, said to walk away. If he wanted to see me again, he’d have called by now. The guys, surprisingly, all said I should give him a call. This wasn’t the 1950’s, and guys like to know that a woman is interested before they give chase. This debate did NOTHING to help me figure out where “Timothy’s” head was, though, and I went home still analyzing what might have happened.

To my delight, I came home to a voice mail message from “Timothy”. He said he was just checking in, see how my week had been going, and, if it wasn’t too late when I got the message, to give him a call. I looked at the clock: it wasn’t yet 11:00. I dialed quickly, but got his voice mail. Well, okay, maybe he’d already gone to bed. I left a message and told him I would call him in the morning to see if he still wanted to accompany me to the party that night. My fears were waylaid. I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I was so glad I hadn’t called! I had over-reacted and obsessed prematurely. If I was going to do this dating thing, I needed to get a handle on my emotions.

In the morning, I called, just like I’d said I would, and got “Timothy’s” voice mail again. I left another message. After I got back from my lunch break, and not having heard from him yet, I started thinking. If he was going with me to a party that night, we needed to make some plans. I tried again, with no answer. Since I was calling from my office phone, I knew he wouldn’t recognize the number and I chose not to leave a message. Okay, now I was getting irritated. I was getting stood up, wasn’t I? I know he hadn’t said that he WOULD go with me, but he could have at least touched base with me by now to tell me that he didn’t want to go. Hell, at this point, he could have made up some cheesy excuse as to why he couldn’t make it. I could have asked someone else to come with me if I’d known he wasn’t going to go. But now, with only a few hours left before I had to be there, there was no time to consider another date, or even just to bring a friend. I gave him one last opportunity and called him on my drive home. Again, no answer, and I left one last message. I ended up going alone and had a decent time. The hardest part was the drive there and back alone. I poured over the details once again. What had gone wrong? How could he have been so rude as to completely ignore me today? My emotions flipped from anger to rejection, and back again. So how would I react if I ever heard from him again? My first reaction was to let him have it. However, I knew that was not the appropriate way to handle it. Maybe I should just not answer the phone? Who was I kidding? I wasn’t going to hear from him again. Write him off and move on.

The next day, much to my surprise, he called. I played it cool, and felt cold. However, I so badly wanted to hear his excuse. He proceeded to tell me that didn’t get a chance to discuss this with me at lunch, but he generally makes it quite clear from the start that he dates other women. Well, I had no problem with this, but what did it have to do with his actions last night? Here it was, his excuse: He went on to explain that he has now decided to get serious and exclusive about one of the women he was dating. Oh, I see. Then, to make sure his ego was fully pumped, he added that I was just one of three phone calls he had to make that day with the same speech.

Hey, don’t get me wrong. I know I was new to this dating thing, and I had every intention of dating around. Hopefully I would one day be in a position to have to tell a man or two that I had decided to become exclusive with someone else. But I considered “Timothy’s” position. We initially talked less than a week ago, and he seemed to do all the normal pursuing techniques one might expect to get a date. If he was considering becoming exclusive with this woman, you’d think it was something he’d been thinking about for more than a week, wouldn’t you? And when you are already dating three women, and you pursue a fourth, I can’t imagine that exclusivity is the utmost thing on your mind!

I’m not completely naïve, however. I realize that this was, more than likely, a brilliant line that he uses for any woman that he’s just not that jazzed about. And think about it: It IS brilliant! I vowed to remember to use this line in the future. Deciding to become exclusive with someone you are already seeing lets everyone walk away with no debating, no questions, and everyone’s ego stays intact. We vowed to keep in touch, and wished each other luck. Unsurprisingly, I never heard from “Timothy” again. At least I only wasted a week on him.

Lesson Number Two: Don’t invest too much emotional stock in one person too quickly. It takes up a lot of your time and energy, and closes you off to other opportunities that might arise.

Status: Still to be learned.

Just a quick note

2011-04-12T06:10:00.000-04:00

I know these posts have been rather long. I know that anyone who stumbles across it wouldn't take the time to read all the way through to the end. If it's any incentive, they WILL get shorter. When I originally wrote this tale, I received so many comments and questions regarding the idea that I should write a book.

So I tried. I decided to rewrite each post to be a little more in-depth, detailed, and more like a "chapter." I thought that this would make it more professional to present to literary agents with the idea of publishing. I only made it through the first few posts doing this. So they WILL get shorter. Promise :)

Chapter 2: The Social Dinner Club (PG-13)

2011-04-07T05:20:00.003-04:00

I stopped in my favorite little local bar one night after work to get a bite to eat and have a drink. As much as I hated to admit it, my next door neighbor and I had been in there enough times that the bartender knew me by name, and I was, indeed, considered a “regular.” I began chatting with a woman sitting at the bar that I’d never met before, but she was animated and fun to talk to. I guessed her to be about my age or a little older, and she, too, was divorced, although she wasn’t as “fresh” as I was to single life.

So I asked her, “How do you meet men?” She began telling me how her social calendar was filled with events that were sponsored by a social dinner club called “Square Hatter’s.” They had a membership fee, but you need not become a member to attend their events. Several times a month they organized and sponsored events all over Atlanta. These events could range from something as simple as “happy hour” at a trendy midtown place to something as elaborate as a week-long cruise in the Caribbean. I was intrigued – Tell me more.

She went on to explain that you usually had to buy tickets to an event, through their website, whether it was a movie premier, or a book discussion, or what have you. Paid members got their tickets for a discount, or even for free, depending on the event. The majority of the people who attended these events were 30 – 50 years old, single professionals, just looking to network with a variety of new people. There wasn’t a lot of pressure to date, and indeed, this woman had, many times, made connections with new girlfriends as much as she had with potential dates.

Well, this sounded perfect! You got all the benefits of having a wide variety of people in one place, without the exclusion the single people feel from being thrown into a sea of couples. And there wasn’t the anxiety of the unknown like there was when you meet someone online. This was something I needed to check out!

I looked at the Square Hatter’s February calendar and decided to attend their annual “Cupid Is Stupid” party at the W Hotel. It was tradition to wear black to this party in protest of the red holiday, and who doesn’t love dressing up in a sexy black outfit? I put on my favorite black top that showed off my ample bosom, my favorite black skirt that was long, and made of a crinkle material that tended to cling ever so slightly, but flowed and rippled around my legs with every movement, and my favorite black boots. Walking in to the hotel lobby alone, and I felt like I had landed on Mars. Make a bee-line for the bar, right? At such a swanky hotel, the drinks were about ten bucks. Okay, pace yourself on the drinks, unless someone else is buying them. I wandered around, trying to start idle chit-chat with people. I had no clue what to say, and I felt like an idiot. Occasionally, someone would approach me and offer to buy me a drink, but no one that made my heart go “pitter patter.” My failsafe social move is to join the smokers. At least we all have something in common, right? We’re all banned to the outside.

The social move worked. Well, it worked half way. I met two women out there that were fun, tipsy, and having a good time. They were all too happy to include me, and my night began to look up. I didn’t need to meet a man tonight, did I? If I made two new friends, then the night would still be considered a success. We laughed, we drank, we danced, and we people-watched. I can say that I was honestly having a good time. And the more fun I was having, the more comfortable I felt, and the more my confidence began to rise.

I went outside for another cigarette and walked up to three men that were smoking and talking and asked for a light. This apparently immediately gained me an invite into their circle of conversation. One of the men disappeared rather quickly, but the two that were left turned out to be roommates, and were attending this function by way of a woman friend that had a membership to Square Hatter’s, and a hotel room to party in for the whole night. Both men were awfully cute, although one was too young for me. “Jacques”, on the other hand, was the same age as me and appeared to be quite successful in the real estate business. I found myself intrigued with him to find out as much as I could. Time to flirt! Very quickly I discovered that he lived near me, owned his own house (his roommate was more of a tenant), was not seeing anyone, and was actively looking. The more I listened, the more I smiled. He was cute, he was stable, and he was attracted to me. Score on the first time out! My two new girlfriends eventually found me and gave me the silent “Way to go!” when they saw that I was making progress, and then graciously said their good-byes for the evening.

“Jacques’” friend came out and announced that everyone was leaving the party in the lobby to continue it in the hotel room. “Jacques” invited me up. I briefly had some flashbacks about some of the stupid things I’d done in high school, putting myself in a situation with strangers that could have put me in harm’s way, but then I quickly realized that there would be many people there, including guys and girls, so the risk factor was minimal. They had a lot of alcohol stocked up there, and I was already tipsy, so I paced myself to get sober again. After all, I had to drive home at some point! And what normally happens when nine people gather in a hotel room to drink? They play drinking games. I had to sit that out. I’d never get home if I got that drunk. So I went out onto the balcony to have a cigarette.

“Jacques” came out to join me. He started giving me boyish smiles and kept inching his way closer to me. I’m not a shy person, but I’d never been able to make the first move before. I’d always needed the guy to open the door and then I could take over from there. But tonight, I was tipsy, I was single, I had just attended my first mixer, and met a man who was attractive. I leaned over and kissed him. I felt the tingles start at my lips and wash all over my body. I had not kissed a man in over six months, since my ex-husband moved out, and I had not kissed anyone but him in seven years. “Jacques” responded to me hungrily, moving his way to my neck and my ears, his hands wandering up my back and into my hair. My hands found a similar path down his body and I drank in the attention, thirsting for more. It may have been February, but the cold weather was no longer a factor. He buried his head into my breasts, and I felt like I was starring in my very own episode of a racy sitcom. Pinning me against the railing of the balcony, he began to move down my body.

I may have paused to consider that I was allowing him to take things too far, but at that point, I didn’t care. It may have crossed my mind that I was coming across as someone who was “easy,” but this was exactly what I needed. Yes! I was attractive, and I could walk into a singles’ mixer and find an attractive man who wanted me. The more he touched me, the more my confidence rose, and the more my desires told me that I wanted this man. My morals needed to just shut the hell up.

Eventually “Jacques” dove under my long and flowing skirt. With it draped over his head like a tent, he proceeded to set up camp. This was amazing! And he was GOOD at it. I grasped onto the railing, arched my back, and closed my eyes, feeling all the amazing sensations shooting through my body as I ached for this man. My knees shook, and I’m amazed I managed to stay on my feet in heels as my breathing became jagged, and I exploded at the expertise of his tongue. My mind was swirling as I came back into focus. The desires and basic instincts that had been buried inside for so long had bubbled up and broken out when I wasn’t looking, and I liked it. “Jacques” stood up and continued to kiss and caress me. I briefly wondered why we hadn’t been caught out on the balcony, but who knows? Maybe we had and I just hadn’t noticed? It sounded like things were winding down inside and we agreed to go back in.

Several people had already gone to bed in the two-room suite, and, of the few that were left, we got some knowing looks as we walked in. I hoped “Jacques” wasn’t embarrassed. After all, I didn’t know any of these people, but some of them were his friends. He was still pretty drunk, though, and didn’t even seem to notice. One by one the remaining people left, and it was again just “Jacques” and I. He couldn’t keep his hands off me, and he told me over and over that he wanted to taste me again. How could I say no? WHY should I say no? And he gave me another earth-shattering orgasm with his amazing tongue. The last thing in the world I am is a selfish lover, so I flipped us around and began moving my way down his body, eager to give him as much pleasure as had given me. I may have been out of practice, but it’s kind of like riding a bike. It didn’t take long for me to get into a groove. After just a few minutes, though, he stopped me, saying that I was turning him on too much and he wouldn’t be able to hold out.

Forget what’s proper - I asked him if he had a condom. I had a very strict rule when it came to sex: Absolutely no condom-free sex before marriage. I had several reasons for this rule. Aside from health risks, and pregnancy risks, I felt that it was something I could offer my future husband, knowing that I had not been with anyone condom-free since I got divorced, and before I got married, I had not been with anyone condom-free since I was engaged to another man in my early 20’s. Unfortunately, I had not brought any condoms with me, because I didn’t actually expect to get lucky the first time I went out on the hunt! Unfortunately for both of us, “Jacques” didn’t have one, either. He tried telling me that he had never been able to enjoy sex with a condom, anyway, which raised a few red flags for me. Let’s put the obvious aside for just a moment and say we started dating? I wasn’t about to have a sexless relationship because he couldn’t use condoms. And I wasn’t about to break my rule for the first guy who came along – even if he could give me orgasms standing up in the chilly February night air.

So we would not be having sex tonight. Well, bummer. “Jacques” seemed okay with it, though, and then told me he wanted to taste me again. Well, as attractive as this sounded, it was approaching 6am, and I needed to get home. “Jacques” wasn’t too happy that I was leaving him and he tried like hell to get me to stay. I, on the other hand, just wanted to go home and fall asleep in my own bed. We exchanged our business cards and I drove home, wondering if I’d ever hear from him again.

The truth was, I didn’t really care if I heard from him again. I got exactly what I needed, and not necessarily sexually. I needed all of it: the mingling, the meeting, the flirting, and the ability to attract an intelligent, attractive man who wanted me. I wasn’t ready to turn around and commit myself to one man so quickly. I needed a boost to put myself back out there, and know that I was, in fact, worthy of a man who was worthy of me. Was “Jacques” that man? It was doubtful. Did such a man exist? In a city of over 5,000,000 people, I suspected that I would have a lot of fun finding out.

“Jacques” did send me an email three days later. Just sort of a quirky, “What’s up?’ sentiment. I responded, and asked if he wanted to get together again. He never wrote back. No surprises there.

Lesson Number One: Always be aware of what you’re getting yourself into, and have no expectations, either for the evening and especially beyond. Keep in mind that your actions should be those that you know you will not regret later.

Status: Learned.

Setting the Tone

2011-04-02T00:15:00.000-04:00

So, it is probably important to illustrate one "cutesy" little nuance about this upcoming adventure. Most, if not all, of my potential suitors were told about the blog. It was never a secret, it was never meant to be some sort of exposé, and it most certainly was not meant to invade on anyone else's privacy, with the exception of my own.

However, keeping anonymity in check could pose a potential problem. Sometimes the smallest thing could give away someone's identity. I could divulge nothing specifically personal; about looks, where they lived, family life, or even the type of car he drove. I would use no names, of course, but how would my readers (not to mention me!) relate to each character, when they didn't even have names? Use their occupation as a name? Nooooo... The chances I might have a date with more than one lawyer, or more than one police officer were so great it was almost a certainty.

I fumbled through the first several entries. I tried to keep each date confined to one entry, but it didn't take long before I realized there would be return appearances after I'd already written an entry, thinking it would be closed. Then the solution was presented to me from the most peculiar source. One of the men I met, and even though we never quite hit it off romantically, we did want to be friends and remain so to this day. I was even invited to his wedding. :)

He suggested that I choose Disney character names to tag each man. This way, I had an almost endless list of options to choose from, and I could further personalize each one by choosing a character that mirrored the personality, or looks, or both, of each one. It was fabulous! And it was perfect!

I had my topic, I had my theme, and I had more material, and the ability to acquire more material, than I could ever possibly write about. This was gonna be fun....

Chapter 1: Foreword: Divorce

2011-03-30T23:33:00.012-04:00

So one morning I woke up and found myself 31-years-old and divorced. This was a situation that I’m sure many thirty-somethings have awoken to, and I realized that I wasn’t exactly the exception to the rule, but it felt like I was the only one in the world. I had a strange mix of emotions that managed to encompass elation, fear, anxiety, loneliness, failure, and freedom all at the same time. I questioned everything I was about to do in my personal life. My desires about the person I wanted to shape myself into on this new venture in my life ranged from one end of the spectrum to the other.

On one hand, I wanted to redefine myself as my own person, capable of standing tall and declaring with one voice that I could face the great unknown and succeed as a separate entity in this world obsessed with coupledom. On the other hand, I knew I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life alone. I knew that, someday, I wanted to be married again. I also knew that I would not fall prey to only good looks and charm again. I had a second chance at finding the perfect mate, one that would offer me stability, security, passion, and intellect, all rolled into one man. Was this a delusional fantasy? Would I eventually start to lower my standards for fear that I actually would spend the rest of my life alone? Or would I fall under the spell of my romantic delusions and fall for the wrong person all over again, only to find myself single again in another five to seven years? The answer to all of these questions was: I had no idea. I had done this once, and was being given a second chance to do it right. I had no intentions of doing it a third time.

Our society has over-glamorized love, marriage, and divorce. With the media exposure of the constant revolving marriages in Hollywood, I think that most people have become somewhat desensitized to the emotional repercussions of divorce on an individual. We are seduced into thinking that love is riding off into the sunset, marriage is mundane unless there’s constant excitement, and divorce is something that happens all too easily when there’s a bump in the road. Those of us who have been in love, married, and divorced, whether for the wrong or right reasons, know that this couldn’t be further from the truth.

Marriage is hard work. Even in the best of marriages, they will agree. You have to work at it almost every day. And when you allow one or more aspects of your marriage spiral out of control to the point that you can’t reel it back in to fix it, you entertain the idea of divorce. There may be some couples out there that approach this decision lightly, but, for the most part, I don’t think most do. It’s the final decision. It’s the conclusion you come to when you feel you’ve exhausted every possibility you can think of and there is no light at the end of the tunnel. It’s the big heavy iron door with an exit sign on it that you’re afraid to open, but you feel so lost, so helpless, so hopeless, and so desperate that it’s your only way out. My ex-husband and I kept trying to find our way, and we approached that door several times, only to shy away from it and try again. Finally, after about two years of watching our four-year marriage decline, we grasped the handle and stepped through. It wasn’t an easy decision, by any stretch of the imagination. I don’t really know what all he went through mentally, but I know what I went through. I questioned the decision to get a divorce every day. Did I try hard enough? Did I give my marriage enough opportunity to revive? Did I ever give him enough chance to prove himself to me? Was I actually just impossible to live with? Would ANYONE ever find me worthy enough to marry again? Was it him, or was it me? If I couldn’t make this marriage work, what made me think that I could make a marriage work with anyone else?

I felt like a failure. I failed at marriage. He had his faults, there’s no doubt about that, and all my friends constantly reinforce the fact that he had just never grown up. But I was no saint, either. I can say that I realize now that I suffocated him. I so desperately wanted him to grow up, but I can see now that I never gave him the room to do so. The more I pushed (okay, nagged) the more it suffocated him, and he couldn’t find his way. The more this happened, the more frustrated I got, and the vicious cycle continued until that heavy iron door was the only option left.

I am capable of looking back over my marriage now and realizing that I made the right decision. I know that he was not the man that was meant for me. I believe that our paths crossed and we were perfect for each other at the time, however those paths took off in very different directions, and the longer we went on, the further apart we got. However, I can only hope that he, wherever he is in life now, has realized the important lessons there were to be learned from our failed marriage. I am a better person now, and I know where I went wrong. I know that I will approach marriage in a very different way in the future, and I really do hope that he has grown as well, and will be a better person for the right woman in the future.

That being said, I now faced a new door. Dating. I was 31-years-old, and it was 2005. The last time I had truly been in the dating world, it was 1997, and I was still in college. There was now a whole new world out there, as the last eight years had seen the dawn of the obsession with the Internet, and divorce had become the norm rather than the exception. There certainly should be an over-abundance of single men out there, but exactly how would I go about meeting them? And, more importantly, how would I go about weeding out the ones that were carrying too much baggage from previous marriages, scorned relationships, and the jadedness that comes from too many failed encounters? This didn’t even address the baggage that I, myself, was carrying from my own marriage!

The obvious choice was Internet dating, but I was still apprehensive. Before I started dating my ex-husband, I had met and/or dated a few people that I’d met online, and there was always something just a little “off” about it. When you meet someone spontaneously in a bar, or a club, or even just within a group of people, there’s no pressure. You can talk, watch their body language, read them through the inflections in their voice and the comments they make, and, above all, you can decide internally how you might want to proceed with this person. You might be intrigued by this person, and want to flirt a lot, make future plans, or exchange contact information. You might enjoy this person’s company, but not enough to exchange phone numbers, however enjoy running into them at a later date. You might be flat out annoyed by this person and hope you never see them again. The point is, you can decide, based on visual, audible, and intellectual decisions, how you may or may not want to continue a relationship with this person you just met.

When online, all these factors are removed. You are reduced to assessing someone simply by the way they type. They can say anything, and without a face-to-face restriction of social decency, a lot of times they may say things that are much bolder than they would if they met a woman face-to-face. They can be crass and indecent, without fear of being slapped. Other times, they may say exactly what they think you want to hear, without benefit of you looking for telltale signs that they are lying. Online, you can be anyone. You can be charming, sexy, intelligent, educated, beautiful, rich, older, younger, whatever your heart desires. One might wonder why ANY of us take the chance of speaking to anyone online? But we all do it. We all talk to people online, and try to insert our own version of their personality based on what we see on the screen.

Then what happens? You take the big step. You decide to move the relationship from cyberspace into reality. You might try the telephone first, or you might go straight to a meeting. Either way, the sheer fact of the matter is that neither one of you would have agreed to take this relationship into reality if you weren’t interested in dating. I know of very few instances where people met offline with the pure intention of being “just friends.” So now you’ve agreed to meet. And now the pressure’s on. You can’t walk into this thinking that you’ll walk away as “just friends.” You know this other person is interested in you. You know that you are meeting with the expectation that this will turn into a date. And what happens if you meet this person and your internal radar goes off and you feel no attraction and no “click?” How do you back out gracefully? Or even worse, what if you DO feel the “click,” but the other person doesn’t? The rejection is devastating.

So, needless to say, the concept of online dating was less than attractive to me. However, many thirty-somethings realize very quickly that their exposure to new people is very limited. Once upon a time, we had high school, with a constant parade every few months of new faces. Then there was college, where the parade of new faces might change on a daily basis. You could make as many friends as you wanted, and then meet their friends. Finding dates amongst this network was easy, if not a guarantee. Now you have a full-time job, with the same faces everyday, and your network of friends has shrunk since you graduated college, got married, had children, or whatever your personal circumstance is. Somewhere out there, through the six-degrees of separation, is the mate of your dreams. How will you find him or her?

I have been divorced for over a year now. I have watched myself grow mentally, and react in ways that vary from cynical and jaded to flat-out childish. What you are about to read is my own journey within myself, learning more about life, love and people than I ever could have learned at a younger age. This isn’t an exposé on the men that I’ve met. This is an in-depth analysis of the mental processes I went through as I redefined myself as a single woman in today’s society, with all its humor, chaos, love and loss, warts and all.

Ultimately, I would be honored if only one person was able to avoid some of the mistakes I made. But in reality I realize that, in order to grow as a person, you HAVE to make these mistakes. You have to fall down, pick yourself up, and laugh at the fact that you just tripped over your own two feet. One thing is for sure, it’s a wild ride, no matter which way you look at it. And in the end, I don’t think I would have changed a thing.