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

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 45: We Girls Like 'Woo'

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

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 42: *Sigh*

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 40: Anyone Order Swiss?

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

"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"

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 26: Wandering Eyes

"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 24: Still playing it safe

"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 20: Adult Much?

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?

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?

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 15: Lookout! A live one!

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?

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...

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 11: Redirection

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

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?

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 5: Stubborn? Or a glutton for punishment?

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...

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.