Tag Archives: romance

Sticking a toe in the dating pool

1 Feb

This is the year, friends.  I can feel it.  This is the year that once again I have a boyfriend and I write to tell you all about the amazing things he does – like mows the lawn and makes me coffee and cleans out the litter box and stands around being hilarious AND handsome.  It’s going to happen.  It’s coming.  I’m putting myself back out there, one little baby step at a time.

Guess who went on a date the other night?  And guess whose date spent most of the time talking about his ex-wife, complaining, and interrupting her? And then guess who got drunk on the date and stumbled out of the restaurant?

Ah, the joys of singledom and the efforts we go to to try to find “the one”.  At this point I’m ready to throw in the towel and find “the one for the moment”.  Even that shit is hard, yo! I miss the days from college where I’d meet someone in a bar and 2 weeks later we were boyfriend and girlfriend.  Or when at work I’d have my pick of fresh faces of new hire classes that started.  Meeting someone at this point of my life is much harder.  Granted, it’s not like I’m meeting a whole bunch of bachelors while I’m sitting on the couch with Mr. Bojangles and watching Netflix.  Shocking, I know.  So I did what any other desperate woman with a ticking clock would do – I got back on Tinder.

After a 2 year break, it’s time to get back out there.  I’m optimistic that this time I’ll find some handsome stud who is gainfully employed, doesn’t have a criminal record, is kind, and wants to spend time with me.  It can happen!  He is out there!  Right?? Right!

It’s been about 2 weeks since I started swiping left and right, and so far it seems to be going the same as it had in the past.  Relatively underwhelming.  A bunch of dudes I have zero interest in dating, or matches who don’t like to respond to messages.  You can imagine my delight when I matched with a few who 1) responded to messages; 2) made arrangements to meet up for drinks.  So far?  Absolute fail.

Date 1 cancelled the day of.  Not necessarily a bad thing because he started calling me “babe” and “sweetie”.  Terms typically reserved for after you meet and you’ve decided that there’s some chemistry and potential for future.  His excuse: coming down with the flu.  Okay, fine, Ill give him the benefit of the doubt (no I won’t). After pulling out from the date, we exchanged a few more messages, and then crickets.  Pretty sure that “babe” is gone forever.  Peace out, “sweetie”, hope you’re feeling better.

Date 2 showed some potential.  An attorney – and I’ve always wanted to date a lawyer and never have.  Assistant State’s Attorney!  How about that for impressive?  Met for drinks on Tuesday.  As soon as I walked in I wanted to turn around and walk back out. Looked nothing like his pictures and was way older than I thought.  He reminded me of my awful uncle and creeped me out.  PLUS he wore a mustard yellow turtleneck.  No thanks, I’m out.  I stayed for drinks and he proceeded to tell me a lot about his ex-wife, and how she had Crohn’s Disease [insert blank stares]. They were married for 15 years.  I thought that they had probably just separated if he was talking about her so much.  Nope, they divorced 6 years ago.  Right.  He proceeded to talk and drink and drink and complain and talk and complain and then drink some more.  No food, just beer.  He said he hadn’t had anything for 2 months and was drinking beer with a very high alcohol content.  I stuck to my 2 glasses of wine and watched him get shitfaced at the bar.  Finally the time came for the check – which we split because he wasn’t going to pay (fucker).  I walked out of the bar while he stumbled behind me.  He attempted to kiss me and I gagged while I turned to give him a cheek.  Fuck that for a joke.  It’s gonna be a hard pass from me.

Date 3 with The Tutor is tonight. We’re going for tacos.  He seems funny enough, we’ve had some witty banter in the last few days.  We’ve already named our illegitimate son, and come up with excellent excuses to cancel the date.  Plus we’ve admitted to stalking each other on the face pages.  I want this one to take.  Please let it take.  If it doesn’t, the next one is lined up and ready to go.  He’ll have to pay child support for this imaginary baby, though.  It’s his responsibility.

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Maybe she’s just not into you

4 Aug

It’s an age old story.

Boy meets girl.  Boy falls in love with girl.  Girl isn’t all that interested.  Girl wants to have a baby and gets artificially inseminated.  Boy decides he wants to raise child as his own.  Girl says no.  Boy says he loves girl.  Girl tells him they’re just friends.  Boy wants the kid to call him daddy.  Girl decides to move to Chicago to get away from boy and start a new life.  Boy decides he wants to quit his job and move to Chicago to be with his “new family.”  Girl tells him under no circumstances will they ever be a family because she doesn’t like him that way.  Boy decides she doesn’t know what she’s talking about and begins updating his resume.

What could possibly go wrong?

What Did You Have in Mind?

24 Aug

“I can do this,” I thought to myself as I was driving over to his house. “It’s nothing. We’ll just do it and then it’ll be over and it means nothing.  I can do this.”  Then I found myself there and my thoughts turned to, “this is going to end badly.”  The talk about feelings and “what are we doing” and “why are you with me” would inevitably come up.  I would have to tell him it was just a casual thing and that we’re both adults capable of this type of thing. 

About 2 months before, I received an email from him.  Against my better judgement, I responded – and that’s how it all began.  “He’s worming,” Foxy had said to me.  “I know that,” I responded and told her that it was nothing.

The emails became more frequent, and soon there were text messages too.  It eventually led to plans to go to the movies.  A month ago I walked into his house and saw him for the first time in almost a year.  I have never felt nerves like that before.  My heart was beating so fast, and I could have sworn that my knees were going to buckle.  “What the hell am I doing here?” kept going through my mind.  And then…we were fine.  We fell back into talking with one another like we once did.  It was light conversation, we didn’t talk about family, we didn’t talk about the past.  It was fine, we were going to be fine.

On the way home after the movie I debated whether/not I was going to go inside his house.  I knew that if I walked in his front door that I would end up in his bedroom.  We pulled into the driveway, and I made the decision to go.  “Are you sure,” he asked me.  I was sure.  I got in my car and drove away.  And then the text messages started again.

My resolve melted.  A week later I was in his house again, and this time I did end up in his bedroom.  It was easy at first.  I would see him for a few hours, we’d end up in his room, and then I would leave.  He would tell me I could stay, and I’d tell him that I should go.  We’d email about the next time we’d see each other again, and that was that.

I kept it to myself so as not to hear my friends lecture me on what I knew was a mistake.  After all, it wouldn’t last long.  Just a few times, and then it would end just as quickly as it began and he would be a memory again.  Claude knew, and then I told Boom Boom.   “Are you insane??” she said.  “I have a bad feeling about this.”  Just like I imagined I would, I received the lecture on this awful mistake that I was making.  “It’s nothing. It’s just nothing,” I tried convincing her.  “You still like him,” she said.  “No!” I protested, I said it was just casual, that it was nothing, that I could just walk away when I wanted. “Then walk away,” she told me.  “But the sex is so good,” I retorted.

He seemed so different.  That insecure, needy guy was gone.  There was not talk about feelings, there were no questions about whether or not I was seeing anyone else, or if Un-boyfriend was still in the picture.  I kept going back, and as I did, I realized that it wasn’t just sex anymore, that all of those feelings that I had once had for him were resurfacing.  I found myself wanting to make plans with him again, future plans with him.  This casual arrangement we had was suddenly not so casual.  This time, I felt like the tables were turned – it wasn’t him having all of these damned feelings, now it was me.

Last week, his grandmother died and he had to make plans to go out of state over the weekend for the funeral.  He came to see me on Tuesday, and he asked to see me again on Sunday.  He asked me to take the day off on Monday so we could spend more time together.  I agreed.  The next day I had an email from him telling me what a great time he’d had and how much he was looking forward to spending more time with me.  I was on cloud 9 – while this hadn’t been what I intended to happen, I was pleased it was going this way.

Then something started to change, I felt him starting to pull away from me.  There was a longer lag time between his responses, his interest had started to wane.  As it did, I could feel myself wanting to clasp onto him and not let him go.  I knew that things were different.  On Friday I told my boss that I no longer needed to have Monday off.  “Everything okay?” he asked.  “Yes,” I lied, “just a change of plans.”  A change in the plans that he made with me, and one in the imaginary plans that I was starting to make for us.

He did not come.  He sent me a text message on his way home asking me if it was okay if he just went home and crashed.  “Do what you need to do,” I responded.  Then he asked me if I was still free on Monday.  “What did you have in mind?”  That was at 8:00 last night and I haven’t heard from him since.

I knew this was a mistake when it began and I knew that it would end badly, but I didn’t think that it would hurt quite like this.  I feel so foolish right now for having allowed myself to do this.  I feel so rejected.  Deep down inside I believed that we still have a chance.  A chance to remedy everything that took place last year.  A chance for some kind of future together.

Above all things, I wish that he still loved me.  That he wanted to be with me.  That he thought about me as I find myself thinking about him.  He does not love me anymore.  God only knows why I would even want this after everything that happened last year, but I did.  I do.  I can’t help it.  I wish I could.  I wish there was a switch I could just flip to make this all go away and not feel anything.  I’ll take numb over this. 

I just want to sit here and cry and tell myself that it will be okay.  I don’t need him.  I know this, I believe this.  But I want him.  I want him so badly.  I keep telling myself that when September comes and classes start and I’m traveling for work, that there will just be a dull pain left behind.  He will not call me, I will not call him.  Things will go back to normal, they will be like they were before we saw each other again.  I won’t spend my day wondering what he’s doing or when he will contact me.  Let it go back to the way it was before I saw him again.  Please just make this end. 

It’s really over now.

Please, I don’t want to hear the lectures.  I feel badly enough as it is.  Do with this as you will, but I don’t want to hear it right now.

The Rules of a One Night Stand

4 Dec
There’s nothing quite like doing the dirty deed with a stranger.  Or with a friend.  Knowing that it will lead nowhere except to O-town.  There are those out there that look down upon the beauty of the One Night Stand (ONS), but I am not one of those individuals.  I do not look down on the ONS; instead I embrace it and jump on it any chance I get.  In fact, my first time was with a complete stranger-I knew him for 7 hours before giving up the goods.  Perhaps it was that experience at the tender age of 17 that left a positive impression.

Not all of my one nighters ran as smoothly as that first one.  Sure, there may have been a time when I thought it would lead to something more or perhaps my partner for the evening was under the same impression.  In the 18 years since my first sexual encounter, I’ve learned that there are certain rules of engagement that someone should follow.  The ONS is not for the faint of heart.  If you decide that you’re the type of person that can engage in such shenanigans, then these rules will help you make the most out of your tawdry romp:

  1. Leave Your Emotions at the Door. If there’s any chance that you are going to get emotionally involved, DO NOT PROCEED! A one night stand isn’t about emotions. It’s about sex. You’re basically using your partner in the place of a sex toy. Emotions don’t belong here. If there is the slightest chance that you’ll wake up the next morning thinking, “He did it because he loves me,” then you’re better off going home and doing whatever it is you do to get yourself off.
  2. No Slumber Parties. At the end of the encounter, someone better get up, get dressed and go home. Any sleep overs may lead to cuddling, and cuddling may lead to crazy thoughts that the person wants to cuddle because they like you. Sure, he or she has to like you enough to get naked and have a dirty wrestling match with you in the sheets (or the back of someone’s car). This doesn’t mean that he or she wants to date you. This rule is closely linked to rule #1. I avoid slumber parties like the plague. I have the perfect line for getting the guy out of my house. Feel free to use it as your own. Ready? Here it comes (that’s what she said), “You know what’s funny? I’ll be asleep by the time you get home.” Works like a charm. Every single time.
  3. Be Safe. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve known the other person. Perhaps you’ve known him or her for years and years. Perhaps you just met 15 minutes ago. Regardless, you have to be smart and protect yourself. I don’t want to hear that whole, “I hate condoms. It makes me lose feeling.” Forget that nonsense. Wouldn’t you rather lose a bit of sensation than wake up pregnant or with a giant genital wart on your goodies? That’s what I thought.
  4. Have Fun. Who cares what he or she thinks of you tomorrow morning? Live it up for once in your life! If you’ve always wanted to do it standing up in your bedroom closet, then here’s your chance. Grab the bull by the horns and have your way with your partner. Go, do it now.
  5. No Questions. Do not, under any circumstances ask the following question after you have completed the act: “What does this mean?” Or even worse, “When can we see each other again?” Other variations may include, “Can I call you?” Asking those questions will only serve to ruin the wonderful afterglow of meaningless sex. It’s called “meaningless” for a reason, and that reason is that it means nothing. It’s just two people (in some cases three or four) getting naked, tumbling in the sheets, and then going their separate ways. The only question you should even consider asking is, “Do you want to go again?” Got it? Good!

Now, go out there and get yourself some strange ass! But before you go, I’m dying to hear what other advice you might have for others that are interested in pursuing a one night stand. What would you suggest?