Broken

It has been SO LONG since I felt even a SMIDGE of love for a member of the opposite sex, it’s almost like I’m incapable of the emotion.

Oh sure, there was Luke AGES AGO.

And then The Pirate, who I imagined myself to be in love with.

But that was three years ago.

And NOTHING!

Should I worry?

Am I just not meeting men who tug at my heart strings or am I truly broken?

Yes, there’s The Swede who I simply ADORE.

He’s in my heart.

And there’s Coke Can Dan who makes me faint of heart.

But I’m not in love.

What’s up?

The other day someone called me “protective” and I think that’s true.

I am protective.

And NERVOUS about falling for someone.

But I KNOW FOR CERTAIN that I just haven’t felt the tug to go in the direction of love in the past few years.

Because when all is said and done, I am a RISK TAKER.

And given even a GLIMPSE of sharing happiness with another human being, I will risk getting hurt EVERY TIME.

And let me tell you this, I MEET A LOT OF MEN.

A LOT.

So why I’m not in love is a mystery to me.

Maybe I’m broken.

Honesty

MichelleSo, I’m on a new dating website – SLS.

The emphasis is more on hooking up and less on making that “ONE MAGICAL” connection.

And so far, I kinda like it.

It’s like Tinder, but with less subterfuge.

Less subterfuge than TINDER???

Is this even possible?

Of course.

One man instantly asked me if he could come over the next morning to fuck.

Clearly, he does not understand the safety precautions a middle aged, sexually-active woman needs to take to keep herself safe from harm in 2018.

But this man is the exception to the rule.

Most of the men I meet online through SLS are thoughtful, well-written, and funny.

In fact, I daresay I’ve met a better quality of men on SLS than I ever met on POF or Match.

Educated.

Employed.

Respectful.

Sure there was the one eager beaver I encountered.

There was also a guy who proposed we go out into the wilderness to fool around.

Again, safety issues come to mind.

I don’t want my bones found by hunters 30 years from now on a hillside because I walked into a forest with the wrong man.

Not fucking likely to do that!

But then there are a host of single guys just looking for company.

Yes, their expectation is that eventually it will become adult company.

But I’m okay with that.

How is that any different than what I’ve got going on anyway?

At least this is honest.

 

 

 

Giving up vanilla

Vanilla guys just aren’t working out for me.

I’ve tried SO MANY TIMES to find someone who fits using Match and POF but NO LUCK.

Granted, I have an UNUSUAL lifestyle.

I go to Burning Man.

I hug and kiss all my friends.

I even get naked with them (HELLO BARE BURN).

It’s not easy to find someone who can accept these quirks.

You kind of need to be a little bit of a freak yourself to fit in with me.

Mainstream just doesn’t cut it.

Neither does religious.

And don’t get me started on CONSERVATIVES.

I am a liberal, agnostic burner with poly tendencies.

And so I am wondering if perhaps I’m fishing in the wrong pond when I use Match and POF.

Are there others, you wonder?

Why yes, there are.

I could try Lifestyle Lounge, SLS, or Kasidie.

I’ve always thought the idea of getting online just to hookup is sort of useless.

Because I really want to meet someone and fall in love.

But the more I date, the more I realize that I’ve been ruined for vanilla men.

And I’m a bit of a poly kinkster, a BIG FLIRT and a VERY OPEN-MINDED WOMAN.

Crazies coming out of the woodwork

I’m back to internet dating.

Because I already know all the single burner men in my Village and none of them interest me beyond friendship (and visa versa).

And honestly, I really don’t meet many single men my own age when I’m out and about.

I meet students and professors but they’re all upwardly mobile and I am holding steady as a modest event planner.

So it’s internet dating.

I met a guy the other day.

He seemed lovely and we chatted via Skype.

I like to see people’s faces when I talk to them.

I get a really good idea of who they are and what interests them.

Much more so than texting.

So there I am skyping when he takes me into the bathroom with him.

Because he had to go pee.

I quickly excused myself.

It’s late.

Time to go.

But he calls me back when he’s done.

I talk to him for a few minutes then excuse myself, hang up, and get back online.

Suddenly I get a message from him ONLINE.

He sends me a pouty emoticon with the words, “Why are you online? Weren’t we just talking?”

Now, let me tell you this.

There is no room for possessiveness in my life.

I love my friends.

We kiss and hug all the time.

A jealous man will get NOWHERE with me.

Realizing this, I tell this guy that it’s probably best if we don’t go out.

What happened next was a flurry of passive-aggressive texts that he sent to me.

“What’s wrong with me?”

“Why don’t you like me?”

“Well, YOUR loss.”

“I’m not into you either.”

And blah, blah, blah.

So there you have it.

Back on internet dating for a week and already the crazies are coming out of the woodwork.

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 myself, 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.

Preparing for the zombie apocalypse

The other day, I was chatting with a friend about being attracted to a specific “type” of man.

Seeing as how he was front row center when I flirted with his friend at Burning Man, my friend said that I CLEARLY have a type.

And it’s true.

I am not one to be attracted to men in suits, although I like a man who can get dressed up.

I like a man in jeans and a tight t-shirt who sports a beard.

Yup.

I like them scruffy and down-to-earth.

Think Mike Rowe on Dirty Jobs and you’ve got an idea of what appeals to me.

Now, I’m not saying that I never go against type.

I’ve had two boyfriends who didn’t fit the mold.

I’m just saying they had a uphill battle and I will always, ALWAYS find myself attracted to the biggest, baddest, scruffiest man in the room.

Some women are attracted to fancy cars, wealth and expensive suits.

I’m attracted to trucks, 5 o’clock shadows and callused hands.

I’m not sure where this comes from.

My DNA is still in “caveman mode” and is attracted to men who can handle a gun, park a fifth wheel, and barbecue like they were born in a Weber grill.

Clearly my inner woman is preparing for the zombie apocalypse and wants a big, strong man to look after me.

Because who cares what kind of a car you drive or how much money you have in the bank when there are zombies trying to eat your brain?

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.

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!

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.