Tall, dark and random

I’m in Reno, where every other man is in jeans and flannels, and facial hair comes standard on all the men.

I’m literally FLOATING in a sea of lumberjacks.

Well, color me happy!

But seriously, here every guy is an outdoorsman, drives a truck, and can operate heavy machinery.

I’ve been swiping on Tinder, just to get an idea of what’s out there in Reno.

Visually, I’m in my dating Mecca.

Substance-wise I’m in Death Valley.

Because there’s a whole lot of red hats here in Washoe County.

In fact, a Oldsmobile decked out in TRUMP swag was spotted in Virginia City today compete with blaring “Proud to be an American. . .” blaring over a loud speaker.

I’ve got to find me a LIBERAL lumberjack.

One who rescues homeless puppies and finds them homes.

The kind of man who works all day only to come home and braid his daughter’s hair for bed time.

I want a man who can shoe horn a 30 foot Winnebago into a 28 foot parking spot.

A man who has as many friends from his childhood as he does from his adult life because he makes friends every where he goes.

I want a man who can make other people laugh and who possesses a passionate soul.

I’m just looking for someone tall, dark and random.

Tall-ish

I once went out with a man who was seven feet tall.

He used to get asked all the time “Do you play baseketball?” to which he’d reply “Why?  Do you play miniature golf?”

Ha ha ha!

I clearly remember standing on a bench kissing him and STILL being shorter than him.

And I’m not a petite woman by any stretch of the imagination.

So when I found out my latest date was 6’7” my first thought was “Okay, no big deal.”

It’s not like he’s seven feet tall.

However, having spent the afternoon with him I can now report back and say that yes, even 6’7” is tall.

I opted to wear heels because I figured I could get away with it.

Big Joe walked toward me to hug me and I was standing on a curb, in my heels.

I hugged him and was dwarfed by him even so.

Obviously I find his height very appealing.

I’m not gonna lie.

Look up “lumberjack” in the dictionary and it’ll have a picture of him with the caption “Big Joe.”

Which brings me to the other joke that my seven foot boyfriend used to say.

People would stare and say, “So is it true what they say about the size of a man’s shoes and his ___.”

To which he’d respond, “God no!  I’d be ten feet tall!”

LOL

Clever boy!

Show my world to you

I’m craving Ethiopian food today.

Not just because there’s an awesome Ethiopian restaurant by me.

Also because I want to support black-owned businesses.

I want to put my money where it can do good and promote diversity.

I’ve donated to the ACLU.

And BLM.

I’m sure there’s many other worthy non-profits I could donate to.

But going to eat Ethiopian takes care of two birds with one stone:  I get tasty food AND I support a business owned by an African-American family.

I ate Ethiopian not long ago with my friend Austin who has since passed away.

I’ll never forget it took us 45 minutes to order our food because we were so busy talking.

And I was so busy staring into his eyes.

God, was he gorgeous.

Such a tragedy his life ended by suicide.

I’ll never go to that restaurant ever again without thinking of him and remembering how ALIVE I felt when I was with him.

Or listen to the Dave Matthew’s Band play “Crash Into Me” without getting teary-eyed.

I’ll show my world to you. . .

Not instantly amazing

I have this theory.

Bear with me while I explain myself.

As a society, I think our attention spans are getting shorter.

We like our news in nice bite sized nuggets – 140 characters or less.

We like short posts on Facebook, preferably ones with pictures.

And we like our internet dating “swipe-friendly.”

Show me a picture and let me decide in a split second on whether or not I think I would like to get to know that person.

I think the reason why I am single is not because I haven’t met the right person, but because I’m not instantly amazing.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m special.

I am loved by many people.

But it takes time for me to reveal myself to others and in the time it takes me to achieve trust and vulnerability with my partner, that partner has gotten bored and already swiped right and left on new profiles.

Women who are instantly amazing are Lady Gaga, Kate Upton, Greta Thunberg, and Mother Theresa – all for their own reasons, of course.

I need to figure out how to display all my amazingness as quickly as possible.

What is the attention span of the average American male?

Five seconds?

Ten?

I need to work on my elevator pitch!

Is Meetup the new Tinder?

Sorry for the missing and recycled posts.

I’ve been sick and haven’t been blogging as much.

No worries.

It’s not Coronavirus.

It’s a gastrointestinal bug that’s been keeping me under the weather.

I was so sick, I medicated then slept for 12 hours straight.

While I was sick, I got a message from Adam through MeetUp.

MeetUp is a kind of social outing platform for those wanting to adventure out and meet new people while trying their hand at new activities.

It’s not a dating site per se, but it certainly is a good way to meet single men and women.

Looking back through my MeetUp inbox, I discovered over 20 messages, all from single men, seeking an introduction.

How do I feel about MeetUp introductions?

I like them.

Of course most of them didn’t sound like a Knight from the Round Table speaking so formally as Adam.

Most we’re like “Hey there!  We have an interest in common.  Wanna see if we get along?”

It’s touching really that they reached out to connect.

But I prefer to leave MeetUp as an activity platform and Tinder for online dating.

It’s not that Tinder is any better, I just feel like if I want to meet someone organically, I try MeetUp.

If I want to meet someone virtually, I try Tinder.

And right now I have WAY MORE TIME for Tinder than MeetUp.

Pretty damn sweet

The Viking left for Norway on Friday afternoon.

He got on a big jet airplane and flew to Copenhagen then Oslo, leaving me 5,000 miles behind.

But before he left, he took to his Tinder profile to send me a brief message:

Gooodbye Michelle

You know you’ve made an impression when he takes over his Tinder profile to say goodbye.

I’ve got to admit, between him, The Swede, and Charlie the Aussie, I’ve met some interesting men on Tinder.

Maybe none of them were love matches, but for sure they were fascinating people with interesting lives.

And don’t forget, I took a trip to Sweden to visit The Swede and got a lovely little adventure out of our friendship.

Perhaps a trip to Norway is in my future?

Who knows.

What I do know is that if you come from elsewhere in the globe, putting that detail in your Tinder profile increases your chances of getting a date.

Even Hoboken is exotic, if you’re from San Jose.

From Sweden to Norway with love

With the Swede happily engaged, what’s a girl to do but move on?

I met a Norwegian.

Like an honest-to-goodness-lives-in-Norway Norwegian!

Sweet.

Kind.

Thoughtful.

Opened doors for me.

And just because it’s weighing on my mind, I asked him if I could move “back” to Norway if the outcome of the Presidential election is not to my liking.

Norway, if you can believe it, maintains universal health care and a comprehensive social security system, and its values are rooted in egalitarian ideals.

I think I would love Norway, except for all that SNOW!

The funny thing is, though my 23 and Me test can definitely tell me I had relatives in Portugal (my maternal grandmother was Portuguese) and Norway, no one in my birthfamily has ever mentioned Norway.

Switzerland, yes.

Ireland, yes.

But Norway, no.

If I thought meeting my birthfamily would clear up the “where did I come from” question, I was wrong.

Norway is still a mystery to me.

But now perhaps I can plan a trip to the motherland seeing as how I have a new Norwegian friend.

From Sweden to Norway, with love!

 

Me and Pilots

Honestly.

You put up one profile pic of you flying a plane and suddenly every single pilot from here to Auburn is asking you out.

Today I had an impromptu date with Ryan, a commercially rated, multi engine pilot.  He owns his own twin engine plane.  Impressive.  He also has a fifth wheel.  Color me happy.  And a speedboat.  Pretty amazing.

On paper, he looks exactly like the man for me.  I wasn’t even troubled that I stood a good two inches taller than him.  He was handsome and articulate and very very fun to talk to.

He asked me out of Tuesday.  I love when  man asks you out for the net date while you’re still on a date. Such nice positive feedback.

I’m not sure there was that strong of a connection but I enjoyed his company enough to say yes to a second date.

I’ll have to brush up on my pilot lingo before then.

Jessica Rabbit

Sometimes, wisdom falls from the lips of your friends like ripe apples off a tree.

I was at a party this weekend when my friend Anne took the time to voice what she thinks the problem is with me and online dating.

I’m a type.

Specifically, I’m the blonde and big-breasted type which means that instead of interacting with me as a human being, men are making assumptions about my personality and character and reacting to their perception of me.

Wow!

How true is that?

It may take more or less time, depending on the man, but eventually they all seem to gravitate towards my appearance.

And what can I say, I’ve learned to play up my assets and therefore I am partially responsible for being treated like the cartoon character Jessica Rabbit.

I’ve never heard it put so succinctly.

When you’re perceived as a “type” maybe you have to work extra hard to combat the stereotype that your physical presence resembles.

Do I do that?

Not really.

Just look at my profile pictures:  all busty, filled with glorious blonde hair, and in suggestive poses:

It makes me think that even though I get a lot of right swipes on my profile, I might be better served to tone down my profile and emphasize my less-stereotypical attributes than play them up.

No more low-cut cleavage shots.

No more boudoir pictures.

Just me.

It would make for a good experiment and I have a photographer friend who may just help me select different photos.

Wish me luck!

Help!

I’m on Tinder.

This is no surprise to you.

The other day I got a message from a guy:

Hold the phone!

I get the “I like the curves” comment but am I fucking cross eyed in my pictures?

Seriously?

WTF!?

Maybe he said it just to get a rise out of me because I’m half tempted to respond with:

WHAT CROSSED EYES!?

Instead I’m ignoring his comment but taking to my blog to vent.

Crossed eyes?!

If I thought my eyes were crossed on my photos would I post them?

I think not!

Who wants to look like an imbecile in their photos.

What a moron!

Oh dear, do my eyes cross?

Is there something to what he’s saying?

So I’m asking you guys, do my eyes cross in one of these pictures?

Which one?

Help!