Do I like Vikings?

Do I like Vikings?

Vikings like this one?

Or this one?

Why yes, I think I do.

The Swede is descended from Vikings.

So am I, as least in part.

Maybe a Viking and a Scot fell in love a long time ago and to them I owe my whole existence.

Maybe a Viking PLUNDERED and PILLAGED a Scot village a long time ago and to that I owe my whole existence.

In reality, the story of my conception is pretty damn cool.

Two eighth graders fell foolishly in love and whoops!

Made a baby.

The Swede flies in on April 30th and we’re set to go on a date.

If he’s not too jet lagged.

I’m looking forward to seeing this modern day Viking again, just before UnSCruz.

The big news is. . .

. . . I have kicked Tejas out of our tent so that we can have some privacy.

Don’t worry, I’m bringing a backup tent for Tejas.

He was bummed when I told him but said it was predictable.

“Think of it as a way for you to get your own privacy too,” I hinted.

So there you have it.

I’m finally willing to admit I MAY want privacy with The Swede.

And by God, I’ll get it!

Creep

creepOkay, the first thing I’m going to admit is that I can’t hear the word ‘creep’ without having Radiohead’s lyrics to “Creep” ring through my head:

“But I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo.

What the hell am I doing here?

I don’t belong here.”

The truth is I know a lot of creeps.

And I’m okay with that.

I used to get the willies from creeps but that was only until I met creepier creeps.

SUCH AS:

A 50+ year old man who admitted to me that he finds teen girls sexy.

Super creepy!

I can’t even LOOK at 20 something year old young men without thinking about my own sons. So. Not. Sexy.

OR:

Another man who told me he steals ladies panties from the laundromat.

Uber creepy!

So I’m not talking about super creeps and uber creeps – the ones you want to take out restraining orders against.

I’m talking about your garden variety, run-of-the-mill creep.

  • The guy who gives off that funny vibe that makes you feel like you’re standing naked in front of him.
  • The guy who has “horny” written all over his face and you can just tell he’s imagining doing naughty things with you.
  • The guy who you know would get down with you in a millisecond, regardless of where you are and who you are with.

Dare I say it?

I find those guys kinda charming.

Some of my closest friends would probably classify themselves as creeps, in one way or another.

I find something transparent in creeps – as if their deepest desires are barely veiled from the world, ready to be let loose at a moment’s notice.

And it occurs to me that perhaps my fondness for creeps is because I TOO AM A CREEP.

  • Awkward.
  • Giving off a weird vibe.
  • Sexual frustration just brewing beneath the surface.

Yes friends, I’m a creep.

I’m a weirdo.

But don’t you find me the teensiest tiniest bit charming?

You do now, don’t you?

Dating Pet Peeves

1

Bad tipping.  Maybe it’s because I worked in foodservice in high school and as a barista in college, but bad tippers are my pet peeve.  I once went on a date to a fancy cocktail lounge where the bartender takes 3 – 4 minutes to mix and muddle the perfect $14 cocktail.  On a $30 bill, my date left a measly $2 tip.  I hastily dropped a few more bills on the tab when my date wasn’t looking.

2

Being late.  I waited in a wine bar for my date to show up for almost an hour once.  I ordered my first glass of wine and the waitstaff felt so bad for me they gave me a HUGE pour.  When my date arrived, he received a SMALL pour.  Ha ha.  Divine justice, if you ask me.  There was no second date.

3

Bad kissers.  You’d think by the time we reach 20 we’d know how to kiss but no, there are people out there that still suck face like amateurs.  I have little patience for someone who is a bad kisser.  If you can’t figure out it’s a game of mutuality instead of tonsil hockey, I’m done with you.

4

Bad breath.  Oh god, you know what I mean.  I once went on a date where I could smell his breath from across the table.  I always carry a discreet packet of mints with me and I wanted to discreetly suggest that he eat them all.

5

Being negative.  You know who I’m talking about.  That person who will list of 10 things that are wrong before they list one thing that’s right.  Mr. or Mrs. Downer.  It’s exhausting and draining to be around them.  Next!

7

Being self-absorbed.  I went on one date with a fireman.  He was so into himself his head fairly floated above his body.  If at the end of the date he could’ve told me anything about me (like my name), I would’ve been shocked.

8

The alcoholic.  This is the person who sits down across from you and then drinks nonstop throughout the meal, barely pausing to eat and breathe.  Or they talk incessantly about all the parties they throw/go to and how obliterated they’ve gotten.  Yawn.  We’re not 21 anymore.

9

Being rude.  There’s nothing worse than going to a restaurant with a date and watching them be rude to the waitstaff.  This drives me completely batty.  Again, I worked in foodservice so I know how hard it can be.  I do not trust a man who is nice to me and rude to other people.

10

The cell phone addict.  I once went on a date with an attorney that was so horrifically bad – involving two standard poodles and a 6 year old.  As if that wasn’t bad enough, he kept answering his phone.  We barely said 10 words to eachother.  I’m still traumatized from that date.

The Swede, kissing and UnSCruz

OMG, she’s not going to blog about The Swede again, is she?

Yes.

She.

Is.

Because he’s handsome, funny, and shy and that all adds up to make him pretty fricking irresistible to me.

He’s CHARMING.

Lord knows I don’t meet enough charming men.

Ones who want to cum in my ass and on my face (two things which do NOTHING for me), but the charming ones are few and far between.

The Swede also kisses like a board certified expert.

Trust me.

I’ve kissed a lot of men.

The Swede is EASILY in the Top 5 best kissers of ALL TIME.

The best kisses suck you into them so all you can think about is their mouth on your mouth.

They curl your toes and maybe, JUST MAYBE, get you a little juicy.

That’s what it’s like to kiss The Swede.

I swear I want to just melt into his body and feel every inch of him against me.

I may get my chance at UnSCruz seeing as how we are sharing a tent together.

I warned him the other day, “There will be ropes. We’re staying in a BDSM camp.”

He replied, “I’ve never done that but it could be fun.”

This is exactly the attitude you need to have going into a Burning Man event: open minded, ready to have fun, curious.

“There may be nudity,” I warned him.

Yours or mine?

I think The Swede will have a great time.

I told him my wish for him, “I hope you have a mind blowing good time.”

And I do.

I really do.

So I met Joe

Joe is handsome and funny.

Not exactly the tallest guy I’ve ever met, but still can hold his own in a showdown with me in 4” heels.

Joe is a diver and it excites him that I am a Rescue Diver.

Of course, he doesn’t know I haven’t dove in years because of that panic attack I had underwater caused by blood pressure changes in a too tight wetsuit hood.

Joe called me up and we chatted for a little while.

He is keen to go out and I was kind of excited too.

He’s got daughters after all and Lord knows I want to wind up with a man with daughters.

All on account of I have none of my own.

In so many ways, Joe seemed PERFECT for me.

Daughters. Adventurous spirit. World traveler. Funny.

So I showed his profile to Barbara, just to see if he could get the BARBARA STAMP OF APPROVAL.

Barbara is probably the toughest of all my friends to approve the men I date.

She’s not called The Hammer for nothing.

LOL

And that’s when it happened.

I glanced at his profile and saw “Separated” as his marital status.

As in STILL FUCKING MARRIED!

Jesus F. Christ!

Nevermind.

The Swede

The Swede has been texting me and it’s been more fun than a tornado in a trailer park.

He went out drinking with a friend and I got fantastic text messages from him as he drank beer.

He asked me if I was interested in visiting Sweden.

Technically, 60% of my DNA is from Scandinavia, and it would love to visit the homeland.

There’s the Vasa Museum, all the canals to navigate, and the ABBA Museum.

You know I can’t miss the ABBA Museum!

Sadly, I have no plans to visit Sweden in the near future, but it’s definitely on my list of places to go.

And it’s just a hop, skip, and a jump to Finland where I can sleep in a glass igloo under the aurora borealis.

Sigh.

It’s hard to not imagine snuggling under the glass dome with The Swede.

And, of course, there’s the saunas in Finland.

Nothing like a nice hot naked sweat followed by a giant leap into the freezing outdoors.

Hey, it’s GOOD for you!

Perhaps I will talk my sister into a trip to Sweden next year.

Our last big trip was Scotland in 2008.

I have to admit, it would be nice to see The Swede in his territory.

Nice to see The Swede fullstop.

À la Whitesnake

Ever since this guy I met on Match put me through a grueling picture-by-picture interrogation, I’ve been rethinking my Match.com profile pictures.

It was excruciating to hear, “And HOW old is THIS photo?” over and over again.

Yes, some of my pictures are old but that’s because I want them to show me DOING interesting things – like flying airplanes, hiking the Watchtower trail in the Sequoias, and eating a silkworm grub.

I think they APPROPRIATELY capture my essence – funny, adventurous, creative. . .

I mix them with CURRENT photos.

Photos of me at Burning Man.

Photos of me catching a salmon.

Photos of me in my sister’s hot tub.

Do you want to know what THE MOST POPULATR PHOTO OF ME IS?

It’s this picture of me leaning on my friend Geoff’s Cobra.

Indeed.

It was taken on my 34th birthday (some 9 years ago) and to be honest, the only reason I’m draped across the hood of his car is because I didn’t think he’d be happy if I tried to do the SPLITS on it.

À la Whitesnake.

Sadly, I think it’s time to retire this photo.

Although it feels like I was 34 JUST YESTERDAY, the sad fact of the matter is that it was 9 YEARS AGO.

I don’t want to be accused of misleading anyone.

But FUCK that guy for making me feel deceitful.

Save

Save

Overwhelmed with men

Okay, even I have to admit I did not expect this strong a response to my new Match.com profile.

I was simply honest in my approach to where I am as far as dating goes.

And it sounds like it resonates with a lot of men.

Some of them have sent me their own worst date stories.

Others have apologized for the sleazy men I keep running into.

Still others compliment my “fresh and funny” approach to my profile.

I just told the truth.

I’m literally at my wits end as far as dating goes.

I’m one bad date away from giving it all up.

Again.

Right now, I’m messaging several men and I’m happy to report that some of them are not my typical “lumberjack” fare.

That means I’m branching out and looking through a wider variety of men for someone appropriate for me.

It’s not easy to do.

I tend to want to dismiss anyone who isn’t at least 5’10” tall with a beard and tattoos.

But I’m working on not letting my image of what I think is the perfect man for me ruin the reality of who could be a perfect man for me.

In any case, I firmly believe that there are lots of men out there that I could fall in love with. Given enough time, everyone tends to grow on me.

It’s just finding that man who falls in love with me that’s the hard part!

Wish Me Luck

I went ahead and changed my Match.com profile to THIS.

And ever since I did, my “phone” has been ringing off the hook.

One guy called my profile refreshing.

Another man apologized for all the creeps out there.

And yet another referred to my profile as “honest and funny.”

So far so good.

I haven’t received any dick pics or any requests for guys to “cum in my ass” so that’s a plus!

Maybe this profile will filter out the majority of the sex perverts and unavailable men.

One can hope.

Because I’ve met Bob.

Bob is a big guy. Heavily tattooed. With a nice trim beard.

Exactly what I look for, no?

Well, we shall see.

He did text me at 5 O’CLOCK IN THE FUCKING MORNING.

Just to let me know he was up.

These are the things I DON’T NEED TO KNOW.

You know?

Not at 5 o’clock in the morning, anyways.

Despite his unfortunate lack of sensibility when it comes to early morning communications, I like Bob.

He seems like a nice guy, albeit an intimidating one what with his LANDSCAPE of tattoos.

Wish me luck!

STFU

Shitballs!

Do you know what I find disheartening about internet dating?

Apart from the cum shots, requests for nude photos, and first dates?

The emphasis on looks.

Doesn’t everyone realize we are all in the process of losing our looks and that all we’ll have to keep us company in our twilight years is the personality of someone we fell in love with?

Oh, don’t get me wrong, I look at pictures as much as the next person.

But I also read their profile.

And I shun the illiterate ones and embrace the well spoken ones.

Well, the latest guy I have been messaging is obsessed with how I look.

A young Cybil Shepherd, he says.

Yes, I’ve heard that before and thank you for the compliment.

But the fact is I am a 43 year old woman who is not getting any younger and if he really knew me, then he’d know that how I look is the least of what makes me attractive.

He made me go through each of my 21 profile pictures and tell him how long ago they were taken.

We’ll, 50% of them were takes 3 -5 years ago.

And the other 50% were current.

The whole process was rather appalling.

And I simply can’t handle his gushing.

Oh don’t worry, I’m not going to stand him up.

I’m going to lie and say I’ve met someone else.

It’s a harmless little lie that preserves his ego while simultaneously giving me an excuse to NO GO OUT WITH HIM.

Pretty, my ass.

STFU and pay attention to what matters!