Dating Again?

Yes.  I’ve been dating again. It’s proof positive that I am clearly not well.  After all, my divorce isn’t even final.  Never mind that my soon-to-be (or maybe not-so-soon depending on the length of the legal battle our attorneys wage) ex hasn’t spoken to me in nearly seven months.  It’s been over half a year since he ghosted me.  If  being able to deal with being ghosted is a requirement to re-entry into the dating world, then I believe I’m as ready as anyone.  I certainly have plenty of experience there.  I’m not ready for relationship and I know it.  My reasons for “dating” are not to pursue relationship so much as it is to provide a distraction from the loneliness and pain I’m feeling about the way my marriage has disintegrated.

It’s Been Such A Long Time

Has it really been over a year since I posted here?

Really?

Why haven’t I stopped in, stayed a while, and rambled on here since last July?!!!

It isn’t because I don’t like it here.  I love this place.

It isn’t because I’ve been sleeping the whole night through.  I haven’t.

It isn’t because I have nothing to write about. Oh, that is most certainly not the case.

The truth is this:  I’ve been so stinking busy with real life, that I haven’t had a moment to render my version of this crazy life into written prose…until now.

Let’s get caught up, shall we?

In my last post, which was just over a year ago,  I wrote about three men that I was, well, for lack of a better term, talking to.  It was a bit more than discussion for each of these, but a LOT less than actual dating.  I don’t know exactly where that put these interactions…and I no longer care. In that post, I mentioned Man #1, Man #2, and Man #3.  I know, it sounds a lot like Let’s Make A Deal.  What’s behind door number 1?  Yeah, whatever.

As if dating were that easy.

Dating…Unintentionally

The dating site I was on seems to have generated some quality interest of late. Yes, I admit, my absence here Is due to enjoying vacation time, but also because I’ve spent said vacation time working honing my cycling skills. Yes, I’ve reached the 63-mile marker in length of ride, and I’ve reached a 14.4 mph on a 49 mile ride which is decent. I’m still recovering from that ride, two days later. Other than hills, we pushed a pretty steady 18-22 mph. which is far faster than I ever ride on my own. But enough of that. I’ve been working out. My body is showing the results, in my tummy area (good-bye muffin top) and below my knees (hello cut calves and serious cycling definition). Now, if only I could obtain the cyclist’s butt and thighs. All in good time, I tell myself.

But this is not about my workout regimen, this is about my love life, or my almost love life.

He’s Handsome…He’s Sensitive…He’s Into Me…He’s Brilliant…He’s Employed…He’s…

Have you ever been on a trip in a new city, or maybe even a familiar city, where you are just cruising along so nicely, everything is going just as planned, and then, somehow, you get absorbed in the conversation going on in the car or you allow yourself that one little daydream for a few minutes and the next thing you know, you’ve missed the exit and you are now in completely uncharted territory. Nothing is familiar and you have only an inkling of how to get back to your original path. This, describes my life perfectly over the last decade. More recently, it describes my life in the last few days or weeks.

If You Want Dates, Avoid This

After plowing through online dating profiles, you’ve finally found one, or two, that you might actually be interested in meeting. You initiate, she responds favorably. Within a few messages back and forth, numbers are exchanged. Soon a phone conversation or two transpires. You are more certain than ever that you’d like to meet this person. So, you take the plunge, call her up or text her and ask her if she’d like to meet up this evening at a local outdoor patio/pub/restaurant you both know of. She says she’d love to but she’s made other plans. Okay, that’s fair. So a few days later, you call her up, ask again, and you are turned down again. “Hmmm,” you wonder. So you try a third time. Same story. You’d chalk all this up to the realization that maybe this woman really just has no interest in meeting up with you, except for the haunting truth that this is not the only woman that this very scenario has played out with. You’re beginning to notice a pattern, and the pattern is one of you being refused. Let’s assume that the woman actually would like to meet you, or you have no indication otherwise, what could be the reason for being turned down? I think I might have the answer.

The Goldilocks Brief

2:23 a.m. The big projects I was working on have come up to their deadline. Proposals submitted, bids received, offers accepted, contracts signed. Two out of three of the projects were successful, the third, a surprising disappointment in some ways. This third project, was not the most profitable one, so having to go back to the drawing board on this is not a horrible defeat. For me, it means, I get to return home during my evenings. I get to spend time with my kids. I get to live a bit more normal life. Which means, I’m wide awake at 2:23 a.m., for no apparent reason.

Mr. Just Right, from my last post, ended up pushing our meet up for cocktails on Wednesday to dinner and a movie Sunday evening. He showed up, promptly at 5:30 p.m. While he’s wonderful enough on paper, I knew immediately that he wasn’t Mr. Just Right after all. I don’t usually know this right away, but this time, I did. Maybe it was the fact that even though he’s only a few years older than me, he looked as frail and hunched over as my 90-year-old grandma used to look, when she was 90 years old. Not that I judge people entirely on how they look, but let’s face it: when you’re looking for a romantic partner, you have to, at least, be attracted enough to want to get romantic. I knew instantly that this was not going to get romantic. I also knew instantly that this was going to be a very long evening. Fortunately, much of it was going to be a movie, but I had to get through dinner first.

Married Men

Ever go into a business meeting or some social event and notice how many people are married? Now, I’m not exactly looking for Mr. Right. As each day passes, I become more and more convinced that the relationship/marriage boat sailed long ago and I was probably at the airport when it did. No. I’m not looking for someone to complete me. I’m not looking for a friend to benefit with. I’m not looking to get involved in any kind of romantic relationship at all. Not only that, but I live in a location that is billed as one of the worst places in this nation to be if you are a single woman. I’m not fooling myself. The odds for me to meet up with some decent guy I’m somewhat compatible with are slim. That I might have a romantic connection with the guy reduces the odds almost 100%. Even though I’m not looking,even though I don’t really care, there are times when I look around and I notice that all the men in the room are married. I then notice that most of the women in the room are married too…except for me…and maybe one or two others. Most of the time this doesn’t bother me. I like being single and being in a room of men who are married, especially if they are happily married, means I’m not going to get hit on at the company conference. I like that. It means I can actually have a conversation with these men that focuses on something meaningful that won’t necessarily lead to the bedroom.

I feel this way, most of the time, except for the meeting I attended tonight.

How Do I Find You?

My mother used to say some things that were interesting when she told them to me as a child, but now, after her passing nearly a decade ago, I find them to be perceptive beyond belief. One of her favorite axioms was, “Most of life is boring.” She would usually say this in response to one of us kids declaring our boredom. She was unphased. “It’s life,” she’d say. “Only boring people get bored. Learn to entertain yourself, instead of relying on others to do it for you.”

My mother was right. So much of life is wash, rinse, repeat.

I get up, drag myself out of bed, and fumble my way to the shower. I go through my days doing mostly stuff that pertains to making sure my kids and I have a roof over our heads, food in the fridge, electricity and heat, and a vehicle to get us to and fro. My weekend activities don’t vary much. I’m a bit of a cyclist and spend lots of time out on my bike. I tend to go to the same places to eat and socialize. I have fun, but it isn’t a constantly changing menu of activities and events.

Today, or rather, yesterday, I got up and decided I would drive my fancy new-to-me car to a small trendy town nearby and have breakfast at a lovely little place that is always packed and has delicious, melt-in-your-mouth menu items. I went alone. I usually go alone. I like to go alone. I’m really okay with this most of the time, but lately, maybe due to the car wreck with my kid, maybe due to the fact that everyone else around me seems to be having success in the relational field, maybe because I’m just tired of being alone all.the.time. Most of the time I don’t mind being alone, but lately I’ve stopped going out and doing things, because I was getting tired of doing the alone thing. Today, I didn’t care. I wanted to have breakfast at a nice place. I wanted to drive in my car. I didn’t necessarily want to have to be responsible for holding up my end of a conversation, but I somehow, strangely wanted to immerse myself in a crowd of people and noise, and fragrances and life. So, I went out to breakfast.

The Evolution of Dating

The entire dating thing confuses me. Does it confuse anyone else, I wonder? I am not asking this question hypothetically. I really do wonder if anyone else is as confused by the societal process for selecting a sex partner, significant other, companion or soul mate that we in the United States refer to as dating. It has me stumped.

Self Esteem and the Single Life

Several years ago, I may have actually been married but separated at the time, a happily married colleague of mine was sharing how she met her husband. She’d waited to marry and had been single for a bit longer than her contemporaries. I remember thinking that I envied her. Oh, how I wish I’d not rushed into marriage and had lived out my 20’s and early 30’s as a single person. I may have mentioned this sentiment to her. I’ll never forget her next comment, “Being single, and remaining single for that long, really takes a significant amount of self-esteem.”