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. Read the rest of this entry
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. Read the rest of this entry
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.
Read the rest of this entry
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.
Online dating is so much like the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. If you’re a woman, you can pretty much put up a profile, and if your profile is decent and your pictures are good, you can just dangle that bait in the water and watch the fish come swarming to your inbox. But then the real work begins. It’s just like Goldilocks sampling the porridge, the chairs and the beds of The Three Bears: this one’s too hot, that one’s too cold, will the next one be just right?
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.
Ever notice how, when once you commit to something, the universe conspires to convince you otherwise? The minute you decide you are, for sure, going to go on that diet, all manner of beverages, desserts and delicious cuisine are offered you. The minute you commit to daily exercise the kids suddenly need rides right when you planned to exercise. The minute you decide that you’ve given up on dating, suddenly your dance card is full.
I am a freaking hypocrite.
I said I didn’t want to date anymore. I meant it. I really did. What am I saying? I still mean it. I do so love my independence and my life right now.
Best intentions have flown out the window. Innocently, though it was. I didn’t intend to get a date out of the interaction. I made a simple comment on Facebook, in response to a comment that resonated with me.
Next thing you know, we’re meeting up to listen to a local live musician we both know.
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Back in the day, when I was younger, squeaky clean, freshly stamped with that Bachelor’s Degree, and looking for work, I had to go through the arduous, intimidating, and emotionally exhausting process of interviewing. I hated it. I hated the way I was often scrutinized, picked apart, rejected. And that was if I even got the interview. Because I was able to present myself well on paper, and because I legitimately had some decent grades, a fair amount of extracurricular campus leadership involvement, and held down a 30-40 hour job, I usually got any interview I sought. The problem is, I’d crash and burn on the interviews. The only time I didn’t crash and burn on an interview was the interview for the job I have now. Of course, by the time I interviewed for this job, I was in my 30’s, had a bunch more education under my belt, and was far more confident in my abilities to do the job I was seeking. Looking back, I was so terribly frightened and unsure of myself in those wide-eyed, innocent days, that it is amazing that I got the jobs I did get, when I got them, that gave me the experience which ultimately landed me a position in a nationally recognized and cutting edge training program for the profession I am currently in.
I was young and unsure. I felt inadequate. I was afraid to fail. All of this showed through in those early interviews, I am sure. Like I said, I’m surprised I ever got a job to begin with. Read the rest of this entry