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.

This post will make you squirm

When I was growing up, I CONSTANTLY had to wipe pee off the toilet seat.

You see, my dad is a germaphobe and he taught my brother to LEAVE THE TOILET SEAT DOWN while peeing.

Needless to say, my brother’s aim was off.

I can’t tell you how gross it was to forget to check the toilet seat and to sit down and feel the wetness of someone else’s pee on the backs of your thighs.

Then I got married and lo and behold my ex-husband was trained to LIFT THE SEAT.

And he did.

I’ll let you in on a secret: I don’t really care if the seat is up, I just don’t want there to be pee on it.

What can I say?

I set the bar low.

My ex-husband taught my boys to lift the seat but lately, I’ve noticed that someone is leaving the seat down and peeing on it.

Once I figured out which one of my spawn it was, I confronted him.

But the seat-peeing has continued.

So. . .

In order to make a point, I left a bloody wad of toilet paper in the toilet.

Because I know it grosses my boys out to see blood in the toilet.

I see your pee on the seat and I raise you one bloody wad of toilet paper.

I win!

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.

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 teenage girls sexy.

Super creepy!

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

It’s. 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 bit charming?

You do now, don’t you?

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!

Dreams come true

If it had my druthers, I’d dress the Swede in three days of facial scruff and a bed sheet.

And TECHNICALLY you can get away with that at Burning Man.

But of course if The Swede wants to let it go a little bit and cut loose, I’ve been scoping out options for him.

First of all, he did wear outfits at unSCruz last year.

My favorite was the Viking helmet.

I love everything about it – the faux fur vest, the tattoos, the helmet.

But The Swede wants a more ACCURATE helmet, never mind that it will be HOT and HEAVY in the Black Rock desert.

Here’s what I found (to the tune of $300+ and shipping from Bulgaria):

Seriously, THE BOMB, eh?

Especially for a REAL LIVE (descendant of) Vikings!

Then, of course I found some shirts, vests, and shorts which I think would look great on him.  Of course I’d rip the sleeves off the shirt and leave it unbuttoned.

In exchange, I’m willing to unbutton my shirts too 😉

Ironically, the BEST place to shop for Burning Man clothes is secondhand shops.

I’d pay money to see The Swede decked out in Steampunk.

We’ll just have to see if my dreams come true.

Growing up

I’ve had no dates since returning from Sweden.

It’s not that I’m consciously trying to be loyal to The Swede.

It’s because I simply can’t stomach the quality of men I meet online.

Did you know that one man thanked me for moving my beer on the first date because (as he put it), he “could see my tits better without the glass in the way?”

Mind you, I have behaved no better.

I’m no “holier than thou” woman.

Nope.

I sent dirty pictures.

I wore low cut dresses.

And I flirted with the best of them.

In the end, online dating is not any way to make a connection with somebody.

Although, I did meet The Swede on Tinder.

Go figure.

One in a fucking billion.

And I had to import him from ANOTHER COUNTRY!

You’d think, given my inclinations, that I’d be missing all those dates, and sexting, and flirtations.

But you’d be wrong.

I’m not missing it ONE BIT.

Maybe it’s because I can skype The Swede whenever I want.

But also?

It’s because I can TEXT The Swede whenever I want.

Kidding!

Maybe he’s a big part of why I’m happy, but he’s not the ONLY reason I’m happy.

I’ve got a hundred other reasons to be happy starting with my boys.

I guess this is growing up.

Over The Moon

I turned d­­­­own a date today.

Not because it didn’t sound great.

It sounded very nice.

And not because I don’t find the guy attractive.

Actually, he’s at the far end of the handsome scale.

I know!

What was I thinking?

Well, I’ll tell you.

I was thinking of The Swede.

I was thinking how much I want to make him coffee in the morning.

And roll over in bed to see his face.

And I was thinking about how much I miss hugging him.

And kissing him.

There’s a whole lot of things I miss about The Swede.

How quiet he is until you get to know him.

How dedicated he is to his children.

How much of a prankster he is.

And so, for the first time EVER, I’m finally admitting I am OVER THE MOON for The Swede.

 

Chaos

The Bay Area is filled with engineers, on account of all the tech companies that set up shop in Silicon Valley.

When I was online dating, my bread and butter dates were usually engineers.

Indeed, my best friend is an engineer himself.

I greatly admire engineers, although I usually can’t even begin to grasp what they do for a living.

Tejas?

Something to do with customer technical account management.

The Swede?

Cloud computing.

My brother?

Augmented reality.

For someone who is decidedly right-brained, I’m impressed that I can even tell you that much.

Personally, I want to wind up with a left-brained person, to balance me out.

Someone grounded and logical.

Good at math and finances.

However, he also needs to be open to other-worldly experiences like Burning Man and regional burns.

I’m quite certain there are men who exist who match this criteria.

I meet TONS of men at Burning Man who have left-brained jobs in the Default World but who are also creative and open-minded.

Does The Swede fit my idea of an ideal man?

Well, I’ve never seen him balance his checkbook, but I did see him get dressed up at unSCruz.

And I’m pretty sure he enjoyed himself.

So I’d say he’s an excellent candidate.

Plus, I like him.

I may not understand what he does for a living, but I certainly like the stabilizing force he brings to my life.

Hopefully, he appreciates the little bit of chaos I introduce into his life. . .

 

 

 

In praise of men with daughters

I have a couple unprofessional observations I’ve made while dating.

Do not date men who are 45+ who have never been married or had kids.  They tend to be hard to please and uncompromising.

Do not date men who haven’t been divorced longer than 2 years.  They tend to avoid commitment.

Do not date men with a full online dating portfolio of pictures of themselves.  They tend to be self absorbed and vain.

On the flip side, I noticed something that I do appreciate in the men I date.

Daughters.

Yes, men with daughters I have noticed are more compassionate and more patient than men without daughters.

I’ll give you an example:

I was so excited about my upcoming trip to Sweden that I got a Swedish manicure – completed with yellow and blue nail polish and the Swedish flag.

As a woman, I was totally jazzed about my manicure.

So jazzed that I texted The Swede.

Instead of just blowing me off or laughing at my girlishness, he was kind and let me prattle on about my nails.

He even told me they were cool!

I attribute his sensitivity to the fact that he has two daughters and knows how to accommodate the female into his life.

Some men don’t know what to do with it.

And though it’s going to sound awkward coming at the end of a post where I talk about The Swede, without actually admitting anything, I just want to say that I sincerely hope that I wind up marrying a man with daughters.

If for no reason than I find that kind of sensitivity VERY APPEALING.

‘Nuf said.