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
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.
Friday night. According to all the “dating” rules, I should not be admitting publicly in any kind of venue that I am at home and not out on a date. I don’t care what the rules say. I’m having a fantastic time. I’ve been grinding away for two months on major work projects. Projects that revitalized me because I felt they were purposeful…and challenging…and interesting. Projects that kept me energized and distracted me from worrying about any number of things.
Okay, sure. Let’s be clear. If Perfect Relationship came along, I would hope I’d have the sense to go for it. The problem is, I don’t believe in “Perfect Relationship”? I just don’t think it exists and I believe that perpetrating the myth that a “Perfect Relationship” exists and is even viable, is incredibly damaging.
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.
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.”
Red and pink balloons, chocolates in heart shapes with red, pink, silver, and gold foil wrapping, cards, dinners…disgusting. Valentine’s Day is a day of obligation. It’s a day of duty. It’s a day of, “If you don’t get her something, your proverbial goose is cooked.” It’s a day I’ve never enjoyed, no matter my relationship status. It always seemed, when I was in a relationship, that the men I was with were anxious about the day. Or they forgot. Or they simply didn’t know what to do. Or worse…and this did happen…they didn’t care and they did nothing.