A Cure for Insanity

Oh God.

For a minute I forgot myself and I got back online to see who has been checking me out on Plenty of Fish.

And the answer is MANY MEN.

I had over 30 emails but as I scanned them, none of them were appropriate.

So I poked around a bit and found one guy I liked.

Likes the outdoors?

Check.

Enjoys dogs?

Check.

Likes curvy girls?

No check.

Actually, in his profile he specifically requested “petite” women.

Ha!

So there you have it.

My foray into online dating lasted FIVE WHOLE MINUTES before I came to my senses and closed the browser window.

Sure, I like an athletic guy as much as the next woman, but I also like men sporting the “dad bod.”

Am I the only one out there who thinks that all bodies are beautiful?

I suppose if you know your preference is small and petite then it’s best you state that outright in your profile and not waste anyone’s time.

I have a tendency to be attracted to big tall “lumberjack” men.

But I don’t put that in my profile because, honestly, personality counts.

Two of my last four boyfriends have been anti-type.

All this goes to say that it took less than five minutes for me to realize why I got off internet dating in the first place.

Want to know the cure for insanity?

Five minutes on Plenty of Fish.

Still creepy

Years ago, I met a guy at Double D’s in Los Gatos.

We went on a date but he reminded me of one of my creepy ex-boyfriends and so I declined another date with him.

Two years later, he asked me out again and I, forgetting how creepy I found him the first time, agreed to a date.

After our second date, we went to his place to sample some high-end wines he had in his wine cellar.

He took me on a tour of his home and showed me a special bedroom.

I know what you’re thinking.

Was it like the red room in Fifty Shades?

The answer is no.

No BDSM toys.

However. . .

He had converted a spare bedroom into a grow room for marijuana.

OMG.

I have never seen such bright light and greenery.

He pulled out a HUGE mason jar that was filled with buds.

Holy shit!

It was wild!

In my life, I’ve never seen this much pot.

I wound up leaving his apartment and never seeing him again.

In the end, my good sense got the better of me and I rethought the wisdom of getting involved with someone who (at the time) participated in an illegal activity for his livelihood.

Still creepy.

Now criminal.

No thank you.

Vegas, baby!

I’ve been to Vegas three times.

For all three trips I was with ex-boyfriends.

The first time, ex-bf #1 and I were all hot and heavy and made love all weekend long.

There was a SMALL snafu with that electrical cock ring, but overall the weekend was marked with nothing but pleasure – for food, cocktails, and each other.

The second time we went he and I were weeks away from breaking up and I’m pretty sure I saw it in the stars when I woke up in the middle of the night and found him sitting in a chair, watching me sleep.

It was a much more somber trip to Vegas, that time.

My third trip to Vegas was during a road trip to Arizona.

It was fucking hot and I spent the majority of my time trying to find another couple to have fun with.

We wound up taking in the Titanic display.

It was definitely not a sexy weekend.

Lately, I’ve been thinking I want to go to Vegas again.

Just for a weekend getaway.

Check out The Strip and catch some entertainment.

Day drink.

Watch a show with naked performers.

You know, do all the things that Vegas is famous for.

I’ve never been to Vegas as a “single” woman.

I’ve always been coupled up for my trips.

And seeing as how I think Vegas is more fun when you go with friends, I would want to take my sister, Barbara, Yvonne, Marina, and Michelle with me.

Just me and a pile of sexy women having fun in Vegas.

Or The Swede.

Vegas would definitely be fun with The Swede.

The Swede and I

Okay.

So The Swede is coming to Burning Man.

So far.

That MIGHT change, but for now, it’s still in the stars.

And in order to prep myself to go to the playa, the land of temptation and pleasure, with someone I’m dating, I really want to read more about playa relationships.

Specifically, there was an article that was circulated around in 2015 – my virgin year – which outlined the stresses relationships go through on the playa and how to deal with those stresses, which I am trying to locate.

Without any luck.

That’s right.

I can find a fucking lavender and teal ombre party dress on the internet, but I can’t find this article, which I recall was fairly substantial.

So, considering the knowledge out there that all my burner friends have, what are your top tips on how to manage a relationship at the burn?

I mean obviously there’s “Make sure each of you has alone time.”

And “Communicate. Communicate. Communicate.”

But there’s got to be more to it than alone time and communication.

What do I do if he asks to go to the Orgy Dome?

How do I greet my friends if I can’t kiss them?

How do I politely ask him to get naked with me and go to the Saunadome?

How do I make sure I respect his boundaries during the burn?

And so many more questions!

So help me out and give me your suggestions.

I’d love to hear some ideas on how to manage a relationship on playa by someone who has actually done just that.

Dry Spell

It’s been a dry spring for me.

And by dry, I mean no dates.

Not that I’ve given up, mind you – just that I haven’t been actively pursuing dates like I did in the past.

It felt like I had a date every day of the week.

I lived on Tinder and POF.

Now?

Not so much.

I’ve given up the ghost of internet dating.

All I seem to find are porn addicts, foot worshipers, and men who want to have anal sex with me.

The pickings are pretty slim, if you ask me.

I can’t remember the last time I met someone authentic through one of those sites.

But there is The Swede.

I got lucky with him.

And by lucky, I mean that he is an amazing man.

It’s too bad he lives 5,000 miles away.

I’ve been getting out a lot anyway.

My friends make sure I stay busy and have fun with or without a date.

Mostly what I miss?

The flirtation.

Oh, I’d die to make eyes with someone from across the room all night long.

Or spend the night making clever flirty conversation with a man.

And let me tell you, I MISS KISSING.

And other things. . .

But we’re not going there because talking about it JUST MAKES IT WORSE.

My last relationship ended over 4 years ago and I figure it’s about time to usher in a new chapter of my life where I find someone amazing and couple up with him.

It is seriously time for this dry spell to END!

Leatherman

I think it’s safe to say that POF is promoting my defunct dating profile.

How do I know?

Suddenly my inbox was inundated with POF likes and messages, the likes of which I’ve never seen before.

It’s a shame that when you “retire” your online dating profile, it doesn’t get officially retired.

Such a waste of time and energy.

Ironically, I had to check out one.

His name was Leatherman.

I was curious, would he be the outdoorsy type or the BDSM type?

So I clicked.

And. . .

As it turns out, NEITHER.

Guess what Leatherman is into?

Milestones

May 13, 2016

According to Tinder, that’s the day that I first met The Swede.

Some of you have been asking how I met The Swede and the truth is I met him on Tinder.

He was on a business trip to the Bay Area from his home in Stockholm, Sweden and was looking for a tour guide.

I was online looking to meet someone cool.

I agreed to take him to Santa Cruz.

I love going to Santa Cruz and playing tour guide to people who are unfamiliar with the area.

We ate on the wharf, played air hockey (he won), and I made him take off his shoes and dip his feet in the Pacific Ocean.

I taught him to eat raw oysters, though he wasn’t a big fan.

He was soft spoken and shy, unlike me.

He left for home the next day and I thought I’d never see him again.

But of course I did see him on his next trip.

And his next trip.

And then I got on a plane and flew to Stockholm to visit him!

It took 3 dates to get him to kiss me, but now that we’ve kissed, the trick is getting us to STOP KISSING.

Well, the WHOLE reason why I’m writing this post is because it’s May 2018 – which means I have officially known him for TWO WHOLE YEARS!

Milestones.

Viking Porn

It’s been a long time since I thought about Charlie the Aussie.

Charlie was named after ALL HIS RELATIVES.

His had one first name – Charles – and 7 middle names.

If it sounds like he was royalty, that’s because he was royalty.

He was a Knight in the Order of Australia, an honor he received because he crewed a sailboat that sailed from Australia to the Orient (I’m not sure where, this detail has escaped me) as part of an anniversary celebration.

Charlie was magnificent.

He would run marathons in the wilderness.

He could sail ships (obviously) and if you blindfolded him and dropped him off in the desert with a Snickers and a liter of water, he would FIND HIS WAY BACK HOME, no big deal.

Needless to say, I really adored Charlie.

Sadly however, Charlie did not adore me back.

He had a wife (he was separated, not divorced) and a special needs son and in the end, Charlie went back to his wife and he quickly became just a fond memory for me.

So why do I bring him up now?

Well, Facebook has somehow figured out that I know him and keeps flashing his face for me to “add as a friend.”

Now.

Facebook knows what I shopped online for two days ago.

They flash it in my sidebar.

They also know what I had for dinner last night.

And they like to remind me of it daily.

So I’m surprised that Facebook hasn’t figured out a way to keep ex-boyfriends from showing up in your “Potential Friends” list.

That way lies nothing but sorrow.

I’m waiting for Facebook to figure out that I’m moved on from Aussies to Swedes.

Don’t remind me of Aussie disappointments.

Show me some Viking porn.

Rare and principled

In case you didn’t know, my first husband was a police officer.

He was about as straight as they come.

No drinking.

No drugs.

HIGHLY possessive.

Also as it turns out, a bit on the combative side.

After 10 years of marriage, I called it quits.

I was expecting to find a partner who would give my boys another example of how a man behaves.

Less volatile.

Better communication.

I’ve now dated several men who I felt represented what I want my sons to grow up to be like.

Unfortunately, none of them have stuck around, but there’s still time.

In the last few years, since I’ve been going to Burning Man, I’ve met all variety of men.

Polyamorous.

Monogamous.

Divorced.

Separated.

In an “open” relationship.

Cheaters.

Successful businessmen.

Struggling artists.

Musicians.

Alcoholics.

I must say, I have found something appealing in most of the varieties that men come in.

But when it comes down to it, I’m still looking for a man who fits the bill.

I had a conversation with a friend lately where he professed his unending loyalty to his wife, which I thought was so sweet.

I don’t come across too many monogamous men.

“You are a rare and principled man,” I told him, giving his quite possibly THE BEST COMPLIMENT I CAN GIVE SOMEONE.

And that’s when it hit me.

What I’m looking for?

My own rare and principled man.

Dating a blogger

It’s hard to date a blogger.

ESPECIALLY one as transparent as I am.

EVERYTHING goes on the internet:

You will usually find me blogging about whatever is on my mind from the men who capture my fancy, like The Swede; to past lovers who I remember fondly, like Jay and Charlie The Aussie; to men I fantasize about but can never have, like Alexander Skarsgård and Joe Manganiello.

IMG_9379I’d like to think I’m more of a lover than a hater. Unfortunately, the hate tends to be funnier than the love, like when The Hunk had an epic skill/equipment failure in bed with me.

IMG_9378I’ve been advised that the reason I’m single is because of this blog.

That might be true but I can’t help but feel like deep down, my blog will actually draw in the right man for me.

Imagine how nice it’d be to have all your experiences and secrets in one place where a person can read about them.

My thoughts. My hopes. My frustrations.

If a man can get through my blog posts AND STILL be interested in me, then he passed the test.

And the thing is, PLENTY of men like this blog and read it.

So there’s hope.

There’s a reason this blog is called unblunder…

Because everything seems wrong at first until it suddenly turns beautifully, epically RIGHT!