One Lucky Lady

I got news today from The Swede.

All is well in Sweden, in fact he has a girlfriend now.

I’ll admit, I was a little sad.

But wasn’t he sweet to tell me instead of letting me find out via Facebook or Instagram?

Yeah, that was nice of him.

He was bound to find a girlfriend.

Honestly, both of us have been single for years.

We’re RIPE for the picking.

It’s nice to hear he’s doing well, and no worries, I’m not crushed or anything.

I’ve been flirting with my own (new) man who seems quite kind, funny, and generous.

He’s my distraction.

I will miss chatting with The Swede but we’ll keep in touch I am sure, even if it’s only just a little bit of catching up from time to time.

So there you have it.

The latest news from Sweden.

The Swede has a girlfriend.

And she’s one lucky lady, because he is amazing.

She’s got mad skills

All right, so I’m back to online dating.

Basically because I don’t meet single men at my job and I’m too lazy to go out every night trolling for men.

So, Tinder.

Within a few minutes of downloading Tinder to my phone, I had a handful of matches.

All healthy looking Bay Area lumberjacks (with beards, naturally).

One quickly proved to be only interested in rubbing aloe vera on my poor sunburned breasts.

His suggestion, not mine.

The other has shown himself to be made of more substantial matter – conversing with me without making a single comment about breasts, sunburns, and rubbing aloe vera on my sunburned chest.

I unmatched the man who wanted to rub my breasts with aloe.

Why waste our time?

Although I did (for a second) think about how fun it would be to sext him and his sexy beard.

I’ve decided I’m going to improve on vetting the men who reach out to me.

Make sure there’s some basic features available:

  1. Would never vote for Trump (not in 2016, not in 2020).
  2. If he doesn’t have a beard, is willing to grow one.
  3. Would enjoy attending Burning Man, not just tolerate the experience.
  4. Like kids, because I’ve got two (granted they’re both almost of age now, but still).
  5. Is an animal lover (compassion is key).
  6. Is emotionally intelligent as well as intellectually intelligent.

I’ve also been advised, by Barbara, to let her vet potential dates by introducing them to her before the fifth date.

The fifth date is when all the oxytocin (bonding hormone) sets in and I start being oblivious to all his faults.

And we all know that Barbara is The Hammer and can sort appropriate men from inappropriate men JUST LIKE THAT.

She’s got mad skills.

The Right Man

When was the last time I went out on a date I was excited about?

Well. . . one that didn’t end in disaster, like the last.

I’ll tell you, the last date I had that I was genuinely excited for was with my ex-boyfriend Luke.

That’s right.

The one who dumped me after I miscarried.

Hard to believe I ever loved him.

He’s the ex-boyfriend I never think of.

I almost forget him.

Except for the miscarriage.

So let’s just say it’s been A WHILE since I had a great date.

And now, I’m swearing off dating (and sex) until I find someone who truly resonates with me.

Someone I feel connected to.

I simply can’t stomach continuing to go out on dates I’m not excited about with men who don’t even bother to get to know me.

My friend Nadine suggested I wait three months before having sex with someone.

I agreed to four dates.

When I told this to my friend Tom, he suggested 5 dates.

I balked.

Five dates!

That’s an ETERNITY.

“The right man will wait 50,” says Tom.

And maybe he’s right.

It got me thinking about past relationships and the connection I felt with the men I loved.

I miss that connection.

It’s not rocket science.

You meet someone you’re into who is into you and VOILÁ!

A connection is formed.

For me, it happens swiftly.

One minute I’m swearing off sex and dating and the next minute I’m madly in love.

What’s your type?

A group of friends and I were discussing our “types.”

As in what type of man do we find ourselves attracted to.

Me, I go for lumberjacks – bearded and outdoorsy.

My friend Allison said her type was Germanic.

And then our friend Adele admitted that the type of man she goes for is the kind who hates her, deep down.

We were floored.

It’s one thing to like beards.

You wind up dating lots of bearded men.

It’s another thing to wind up with men who have an underlying dislike of you.

I could hear the truth in what she was saying though, and it hurt to think of what she had been through in order to actually identify “hates me” as her type.

We asked for clarification.

“Well, they don’t come at me FULL ASSHOLE,” she explained.

At first, they’re nice and caring.

But then something changes and they turn into an asshole with her.

Personally, I can relate to her mindset.

I too have dated men who started out nice and caring but who evolved into critical, misogynistic partners.

Once I met a guy who would bully me when he didn’t get his way.

He swore up and down what a great boyfriend he was and how much he loved women.

But then he texted me nasty messages when I wouldn’t do what he wanted.

He’d go back and forth, being nice to me trying to change my mind, then call me a bitch when I wouldn’t do as he said.

I got away from him as quick as I could.

It’s hard for me to give advice about men, considering that I really believe many of the single men out there are porn addicts who use women and are afraid of connection with other human beings.

But if I were to say one thing, it would be to look for the good men, and when you discover his true colors, and they aren’t as appealing as they were when you met him. . .

R U N !

Online Dating Pet Peeves

michelleEvery time I think I should get back online and date, I’m reminded why I went offline. My latest edition of Online Dating Pet Peeves:

  1. Men wearing baseball caps that shade their face so I can’t see their features.
  2. Men wearing sunglasses in all their photos. I get it. You’re cool.
  3. Men who list all the things they don’t want instead of what they’re looking for.
  4. Flat brimmed baseball caps. Are you 12? Hipster.
  5. Emails that go nowhere.
  6. Men who post pictures with their ex’s face cropped out. Tacky.
  7. Pictures of men with models. Ugh. Modelizer!
  8. Men who take photos from so far away you can’t make out their face.
  9. Their, there, and they’re.
  10. Coffee dates. No.
  11. Men who list “no drama” in their profile. Liar!
  12. Messages that say “hi” and nothing else.
  13. Usernames like “lovestoeattacos” or “poundman.”
  14. The drinking with my buddies photo.
  15. Landscape profile photos. Why?
  16. Copied and pasted generic emails. You think we can’t tell? We can.
  17. Strange men instant messaging me. Yikes!
  18. Topless men. Really? Showoff.
  19. Any picture taken in the bathroom.
  20. Any picture taken while sitting in their car.
  21. Photos of their car. Oh, my bad! I have a pic of my truck in my profile. But it has a HEMI!
  22. Group shots.
  23. Photos of men posing with guns or shooting guns. NO!
  24. Wearing a beanie/hat in all his photos.
  25. Men who live 100+ miles away from you but who still email you. Pointless.

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?

That’s just how I roll

Several months ago, I went on a date.

I had no idea at the time that what transpired on that date would make me swear off internet dating.

But it did.

You see, I kinda liked the guy.

He was respectful, thoughtful, and nice.

A real gentleman.

Per typical first date guidelines, we chatted about careers, family, hobbies, etc.

The usual.

And it went nicely.

I mean there were no fireworks, but I was so impressed that he wasn’t staring at my tits or trying to talk me into going back to his place that I didn’t care.

I was happy just being treated like a human being.

Granted, he was a former Mormon, with a big Mormon family and all the issues that go along with that.

But overall, he was a step up from what I’d been experiencing.

But then he said it.

“I think I can speak for both of us when I say there’s no chemistry.”

Wha?!

No chemistry?

First of all, please do not presume that after spending two hours with me that you can speak for me.

Second of all, how the hell would you know about our chemistry?

You haven’t even touched me.

It’s ironic, isn’t it?

A decent date caused me to swear off online dating.

But it’s true.

I drew a line in the sand and I haven’t crossed it since.

I may be a little on the “friendly” side, but I don’t make assumptions about chemistry until I’ve kissed someone.

That’s just how I roll.

I am not a porn star

I’m going to write a new dating profile and title it:

I am not a porn star

It’s not that I resemble any porn stars out there, aside from being busty and blond.

No.

It’s that I keep getting treated like my life revolves around sex by the men I go out with.

They seem to think it’s okay to grope me.

To ask if they can give me a facial.

To move a glass on the table so they can “get a better look at my tits.”

Yes, all this has happened and more.

And I’m sick of it.

Hence the desire to write a totally biting new profile.

Have men COMPLETELY forgotten about mutual respect?

Where are their manners?

I’m not trading my sexuality for a meal or a couple of drinks at a bar.

I am a REAL person who deserves respect, kindness, and sincerity.

I know I’m not The One for every man out there.

Does that mean that I deserve to be treated like a disposable toy?

No, it does not.

Before you start freaking out, let me set the record straight.

I’m not ACTUALLY going to write a new dating profile.

Because I’ve established that online dating is worthless.

A total waste of time.

And I would rather be a nun than spend any more time dating sex fiends, fuckwits, and assholes.

That is all.

I’ll never love again

I’m okay being single.

It’s MUCH better than being in a dead-end relationship.

I know a few people in that kind of relationship.

Sometimes it just makes me want to scream – HOW CAN THEY BE IN A RELATIONSHIP WHILE I’M NOT?!

But truthfully, I haven’t met anyone who I think could be long term material.

When I look back on the last 14 years since my divorce, I realize that I wasn’t ready for a permanent relationship.

I needed some work.

Dare I say it:

I was a little unbalanced and needed time to process.

Now that I’ve had the time to work on me, I’m still not finding anyone out there who is appropriate for me.

And it worries me for one reason:

I feel like I’ll never love again.

It’s not being single that bothers me (cuz it’s kinda fun), it’s the thought of being ENDLESSLY single that bothers me.

The idea that part of my life is over with somehow and will never ever be resurrected scares me.

I’ll never have a plus one for weddings.

I’ll always drive my tires bald because there’s no one to remind me to change them.

I’ll never have to question where I’m spending the holidays because it’s just me.

But most of all I worry that I’ll never fall in love again.

And as fun as casual sex is, I’m kinda hoping for something a little more stimulating.

That’s right.

I said it.

I want more.