Tag Archives: The Tutor

Line them up and knock them down

19 Feb

I’m the absolute worst at bowling.  Guaranteed to get a gutter ball at least 90% of the time, unless I can talk the people I’m playing with to let me use the bumper guards that fill up the gutters.  Then what happens is the bowling ball will hit the bumper guard and still manage to knock down jack shit.  I’m the asshole that has to swing the ball between her legs, granny style, and still manages to only get a few of the damned pins.  It’s embarrassing.

Dating has been a lot like bowling.  A whole lot of effort and I’ve barely scored (LOLZ, I cracked myself up).  The Tutor has been dismissed #4 is seducing me via text message, and I’ve got a whole lot of time on my hands.  What to do with so many free evenings?  Sure, I can hang out with Mr. Bojangles and clear out my Neflix queue, or I can go out with strangers and have awkward conversation over drinks.  Well, kids, guess who just lined up dates #5 and #6 for tonight AND tomorrow night?  Yours truly.

I enjoy the light banter with #5.  He has a son, knows a ton of languages, likes to travel, and loves the same kind of wine I do.  Win!  We’re going out for wine tonight.  If all else fails, at least I’ll be drinking wine on a Monday night.

Here’s what I know about #6: not a whole heck of a lot.  His profile is somewhat lean: he works in some kind of sales, isn’t married and doesn’t have kids, loves to cook, loves to be outdoors (like every single fucking guy who has an online profile), and he has a nice smile.  That’s about it.  We’ve got plans to go to a pretty nice restaurant, so if all else fails at least the food will be good.

Maybe I’ll be pleasantly surprised.  Maybe it will be horrifying.  You’ll have to stay tuned to find out!

Schooling The Tutor

18 Feb

Those of you who have been reading this blog for awhile know that I’m dead inside. I don’t like feelings.  I like to repress them or eat them (or write to you about them).  I don’t like to express them and I abhor talking about them.  What I dislike even more is dealing with a guy who has more feelings than I have.  Deep down inside, I’m a horrible person.  There comes a point where someone expresses too many feelings and my cold dead heart gets super annoyed.  A guy wanting to talk about his feelings ad nauseam brings out my inner bitch.  No likey the low self esteem.  Yes, I totally suffer from low self esteem. I also have the common decency to not talk about it at the early stages of a relationship.  It’s not cute.  As it turns out, The Tutor is someone who suffers from Sensitive Guy Syndrome.

Earlier in the week I’d been messaging back and forth with him.  He had some questions for me, and was dancing around.  The dancing around was a bit annoying. I could tell he was interested in hearing about my past, but wasn’t sure how to broach the subject.  Just ask the damn questions.  As far as I’m concerned, the past is in the past.  Based on the conversation we had, I discovered he is not a bonafide sex god.  The Tutor is less experienced than I am, which is a bummer when the other option is #4 who would choke me if I let him.  Whatever.  He asked when was the last time I had kissed someone else, and the hot make out sesh with #4 on Monday night (still swooning even though he’s a douche bag) immediately popped into my head.  “Within the last 2 weeks,” I responded.  Technically this is true.  He asked if I was still in touch with the guy, and I said yes. If you meet someone on the interwebs, more than likely they’re seeing other people – that’s the point.  Then The Tutor asked me to do him a favor, if I decided that I was going to go out with #4 again to let him know because he’d probably tap out. I promised I would.

Friday night I went out with The Tutor for a 3rd time.  He has a thing for airplanes so we decided it would be fun to meet at the airport for drinks.  Because, why not?  As I’ve previously mentioned, he’s a nice guy.  One that I wasn’t deeply attracted to.  He reminded me a bit of Disney who I used to work with at Investments r Us.  Disney was my work husband for a few years, and totally not someone I’d ever want to bang.  Like, ever.  So the fact that The Tutor reminded me of him should have probably served as a red flag, but obviously it didn’t.  The Tutor shows up in faded jeans that were too big for him and a leather jacket that could have fit the Incredible Hulk, I’ve never seen so much room in the arms of jacket before.  He kind of looked like he was a little kid who had borrowed his dad’s clothes to play dress up.  In the back of mind I said to myself, “I can work on the styling – don’t write him off for that.”

As we were having our drinks and dinner, he brought up how he was disappointed his life hadn’t turned out the way he thought it would.  He had wanted a marriage, family, and a job he loved, and he had none of those things.  He felt like somewhat of a failure and time was running out for him.  I told him that I too had had a different vision of what my life would be, and that though it hadn’t, I was still able to find the joy in what I did have.  He said he didn’t have any of that.  We then spent half an hour talking about how he hated his job, how little money he made, and how he didn’t think he’d be making a career change any time soon.

I felt so sorry for him.  Like so sad for him.  He was basically stuck, without seeing a way out.  Rather than thinking about the first steps he wanted to take to change his situation, he wallowed in it.  He said that it was too hard to change.  That’s a shitty place to be right there.  Open to therapy?  No, he’s not.  One of my annoying habits is finding a silver lining to everything.  Being with someone who spends most of their time being miserable is too draining, they suck the joy out of me.  That vortex of darkness, so to speak, is also not a place where you want to start a relationship.

AND THEN when the check came, we went dutch.  Date 3 was a 3 hour therapy session where I had to contribute to the payment to the therapist (me).  Are you feeling your ovaries and heart beating right now?  You thinking you might want to jump on him?  Because I sure wasn’t.  I would classify the evening as a relationship boner killer.

Kissing him at the end of the date was abysmal. Partly because of the technique, and partly because the whole night had been such of a downer.

My inner bitch thought about ghosting him, but I decided that was too cruel.  I was a mature human being about it – there’s a first time for everything.  Knowing suffers from Sensitive Guy Syndrome I thought long and hard of what to say, packed together a nice message, and off it went.  I told him I didn’t want to waste his time and that I didn’t think I wanted the same things he did, and he still had time to find them.  Go get ’em, Tiger.  I’m sure the right person is out there for him.  It’s just not going to be me.

The time has come to wish The Tutor fare thee well.  On to the next one…

Catherinette’s Theory on Finding the Ideal Mate

16 Feb

Ideal Mate

Welcome to today’s lesson on dating.  Today we’ll be talking about Catherinette’s Theory on Finding the Ideal Mate.  There’s even a visual for you to use and share with your family and friends!!

As the above graph indicates, when you’re looking for an ideal mate, it’s important to look at them from a number of dimensions.  On the X axis we’re looking at their ability to serve as a bonafide sex god (or goddess), and on the Y axis we’re identifying how emotionally available they are.  When measuring their sex god-ness, we consider the following factors:

  • body,
  • experience,
  • prowess,
  • willingness to please his/her partner.

The factors we use to determine if someone is emotionally available are:

  • willingness to be vulnerable,
  • openness to commitment,
  • reliability,
  • ability to effectively communicate their feelings.

The goal is to identify what you’re looking for and what the other person has to offer. Looking for a booty call?  Ensure your potential partner is high on the X axis – you do not want to mess with someone who is too high on the Y access.  They may be too sensitive and talk about feelings and no one wants that shit when all you want is hot and sweaty good times.  Looking for a long term relationship?  Make sure you’re getting pretty damn far on that y axis.  It’s not fun to try to drag feelings out of someone who isn’t far enough on that axis and all they want to do is touch you with their peen.

In the above example, I’ve plotted #4 and The Tutor based on what I know.  As you can see, neither of them quite meets exactly what we’re looking for (the unicorn).  So this is fun, right?  They’re like fucking opposites.  One is dying to knock boots and not commit (except for this stupid idea of “monogamous friends with benefits” thing he made up), and the other wants to wait to knock boots until the proper emotional foundation is established.

What I’m learning in all of this is that #4 is probably a tad too bit sexually adventurous for me, and The Tutor is probably too sensitive for me.  What makes the most sense is to pull out of both and move onto the next one.  But where’s the fun in that, right?

I’m doing this for you.

(It’s been an extremely busy day at work, as you can see by this incredible graph I’ve created.)

I could really go for some fried chicken

15 Feb

Have you ever thought to yourself, “I could really go for some fried chicken,” and then you talk yourself out of it because it’s not good for you. Instead you focus on your salads, and some other high quality delicious foods – maybe a fancy meal. Yet no matter what you eat all you want is the damned fried chicken? Fried chicken is not good for you, it is not good for your body or your heart. You’ll regret eating the fried chicken because you know the next day you’ll feel like shit and you’ll ask yourself, “self, why did I do that?”

#4 is my fried chicken.

The Tutor and I went out last night. Date #2. We met up at some random bar because he lives in East Jebip (aka Bumble Fuck, or Woop Woop). I turned down the initial suggestion of Ruby Tuesday’s and we ended up at this place. I hadn’t eaten all day and was so excited for carb filled food. I could have gone for some fried chicken. You can imagine my dismay when we walked in and were told the kitchen was closed until 9:30.

Great. Fine. Booze for dinner. Whatever, I’ve done it before. No fried chicken. I get it.

We had fun. Had some drinks. He pulled out 3 pieces of chocolate from his pocket and told me it was my Valentine’s Day gift – wanted to make sure I had something without going over the top. We talked about family. He’s a funny guy. Unsophisticated. Easy. Laughs at all my jokes. Seems respectful, mentally stable, emotionally available. Simple. Essentially the complete opposite of #4. He is a nice guy. Super nice. Like you could probably marry him and raise a family nice. This is the type of guy who I should be going out with. Not some douche bag who has told me flat out a relationship is not going to happen. But being the dumb ass that I am, I like the challenge #4 presents, and The Tutor isn’t going to present one. Of course while I was with The Tutor 1/2 the time my mind was on whether/not #4 had messaged me.

#4 is my current Daniel Cleaver. An incredibly stupid idea.

Anyway, end of the date approached and The Tutor walked me to my car. We were standing by it and I thought, “here we go!” He leaned in and BAM! kiss on the mouth. Closed mouth kiss, a peck. Okay, fine. That goes on for a minute or so. He was being a gentleman. Nice. Then he kissed me again. Another peck. And I thought, “fuck. Is this all that’s happening right now? I haven’t eaten all day long, I’m PMSing, I’ve had three gin and tonics, and this is not going to cut it.”

So I asked him flat out, “are you going to kiss me for real?” Who am I? What has happened to me? Who says that??

The kiss was nice. Respectful. Gentlemanly. It was not a toe curling, steam rising, ovaries beating, chest flushing, swooning kiss on the porch.

I want some fried chicken.

Maybe it’s not over

15 Feb

As I was rolling into the house a little past 11 after my date with The Tutor my phone buzzed. 3 messages from #4.

Know why he hadn’t texted? Because he was volunteering at his kid’s school. He’d been helping with some set design for the school play. How do I know? Because he sent pictures of the sets.

We’re back on. I think. Maybe. I don’t know.

It’s amazing the difference a day makes

14 Feb

Has it only been a day since that last blog post?  24 hours since I was melting into a puddle on the floor?  Since some random Carly Rae Jepsen song came on the radio and it made me think of him and I immediately said, “fuck” out loud because it meant that I kind of liked him? So much has happened in 24 hours.  All of it has happened in 24 hours.  Okay, maybe not all of it, but a whole lot of it.

No, I haven’t seen #4 again – no naked bodies.  Calm down.

First of all, let me tell you that this guy has some serious game.  Sure, I’ve not played for many years, but I’d think my skills were sharp enough to know how to respond.  He’s left me speechless a few times.  Excellent flirt.  I’m down.  Texts flying back and forth and they were good.

One minute we were flirting on text and then next thing there are some REAL direct questions about marriage, and kids.  Like, immediately.  I’m not used to the “let’s make sure we’re on the same page” conversation until way later in the game.  This was under the guise of “I don’t like the idea of sabotaging another date, but I really don’t like the idea of wasting your time if your’e looking for something more serious” excuse. He doesn’t want any more kids.  He isn’t looking to get married.  Okay, fine by me, no worries, whatever.  I told him I wasn’t planning on picking out a wedding dress and sending baby announcements.

Kids, then things got deep real quick (and I don’t mean that in a sexy way).

Like REAL quick.

Next thing I know we’re talking about life long dreams and what we’re looking for in life and love and didn’t we just make out on the front porch 15 minutes ago and now we’re having an existential conversation?  Then we went down this track where he had this total epiphany of what he really wanted, which I coached him to (because I’m a therapist in my own mind), and it’s like, how the fuck did we get here?

What happened to yesterday when I was swooning and wondering where this would go, to essentially talking him into “let’s just do a friends with benefits” kind of thing?

#4 is in no way, shape, or form ready for a relationship.  I don’t know what happened to him in the past, but there is all sorts of work he’s going to have to do on himself before he gets there.  The kind of work that even I, as a faux therapist, can’t help him with.  So basically I validated there’s nothing wrong with what he’s looking for as long as he’s up front about it. Though I think he has this strange idea that even if what he’s looking for is FWB that it would be a monogamous version of FWB.  Um, no.  That’s not how it works.

So here’s what I’m thinking: we’re not gonna date, we’re gonna just do whatever, and I’m going to go ahead and date other people. We’re not sleeping over at one another’s houses.  We’re not going to meet one another’s friends or families.

Meanwhile, the Tutor (previously know as date #3), is up for tonight’s date.

Things are getting really interesting…

Mustn’t read too much into it

2 Feb

Tinder date number 3, The Tutor, was kind of a bust. He was nice. Nothing wrong with him. He’s funny, gainfully employed, seems to have a nice relationship with his family, open about what he’s looking for and his faults, held the doors open, and walked me to my car. Needs a little work on the dress, but that’s all fixable. Not sure he’d be able to keep up with me in terms of banter, and I think he was a little intimidated by me. Just not what I wanted, not quite the right fit. It’s kinda like when you find a really great dress on the interwebs and you can’t wait to get it because you’re going to wear it to a big event, but once it arrives it doesn’t fit right across your chest and it’s too tight in the hips and then you’re stuck without the right outfit and you feel fat at the party. Exactly like that.

The worst part was that I had created this whole entire fantasy in my mind about how this would be the start of something special and it’s so disappointing when it doesn’t turn out that way. As much as I tell myself, “do not get ahead of yourself,” it’s hard to reign in the thoughts of how he’ll get along with my friends, whose house we’ll live in, how to break it to him that he’ll have to spend Christmas with my family, and where we’ll go for Valentine’s day. Now I have to get busy mourning this little fantasy relationship that I created for myself. Ugh, the worst.

It’s so discouraging and I barely just started. Then when I get back on stupid Tinder I run out of people to swipe on. I mean, OUCH! Like there’s literally no one around me anymore. And also, it sucks when you match with someone and you get crickets from them. A whole lot of nothing. Or else you get some random douche bag who just wants to touch you with the tip of his penis. Um, no. We’re not there yet. You need to calm down. Such a punch to the ego, you know?

I want to give up. I want to delete the apps and prepare myself to adopt some more cats. It’s easier. It’s less confronting. Would make me feel better about myself because I’d be the one making the choice to take myself off the market vs. contending with the fact that there’s no one out there for me.

The dating pool is like an above ground pool that has algae growing on the sides, leaves floating on the top, and too many dead bugs. In other words, not suitable for most humans. It’s making it really hard for me to jump in.

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.