Archive | May 2013

The Halfling

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Emails pour in from *insert popular dating site*.com like rain from a thunderstorm. Some strange, some creepy, but most quite dull. Since we all know I have some pretty basic standards, (like you must be able to read AND write, not just look at pictures) I am able to sort through the really bad ones fairly expeditiously. When one catches my eye, be it due to humor, common interest, or, yes, I will admit it, the smoking hot factor, I send a quick response.

One email I received was about four paragraphs long and had me laughing through all four. Each paragraph was referencing a different portion of my written profile. He closed it with, “If you appreciated the humor within the body of this email, you should definitely respond before the six other women I just emailed. Tick…tick…tick…tick…”

I responded. I like to laugh, he’s cute, he’s capable of spelling words correctly and stringing them together to make coherent sentences, and, if memory serves me correct, he used a couple of three or more syllable words in their proper context. Obviously, I’ve met my dream man. Well, not met, but you know, made contact.

We have been talking for two weeks now and will be meeting this evening for the first time. I’m actually very excited about meeting him. He’s been clever, sweet, inquisitive and consistent throughout the two weeks.

This bears announcing because I’ve been quite tepid about meeting the other two, but I feel differently about The Halfling. I expect this to be very interesting and fun, nice flavorful change of pace. The fact he is half Latino doesn’t make me exactly sad, I’m used to mi Colombiano, so this will be a breath of refreshing familiarity, and he definitely isn’t as “vanilla” as the two previous dates. (btw, I had to explain to a co-worker, so just to clarify for all of you, vanilla in personality, not skin tone)

I will give a post date rundown tomorrow. Wish me luck. Hopefully I don’t have my expectations up too high. No, seriously, use the little comment button and wish me luck, I’m starting to feel as if I’m the only one left on the internet.

Date #1 The Not So Shocking Shocker

Blog Nurse

Guess last night’s date will be dubbed Shocker, although, I have to tell you, his revelation barely phased me.

Date place: Proof on Main (Jeff Ruby’s and Jack Frye’s were closed for the holiday šŸ˜¦ )
Date time: 9pm (I had to work until 8pm)
Dating Style Points: Pre date, he verified reservations, made sure I knew because of the heavy traffic he would be right on time, not early, as he had hoped, no flowers, candy, etc., but we arrived at the same time (Yes bitches, I got somewhere other than work on time)and I saw him exiting his 2013 Mercedes Sportscar. (He doesn’t get points for having the car, he gets points for not once ever telling me he had the car)

He looked very much like his picture, a little better in person, actually. He pulled out my chair when we were seated at the bar, announced he was more nervous than he expected to be, and ordered a shot of tequila. LOL All good.

He was dressed in semi-dress casual…..jeans, white dress shirt with design, and high end sport jacket. Good shoes!!

I wore a black, drape sleeved sweater and a leopard print pencil skirt. Obviously, my shoes were impeccable!

He made small talk about my job, but when I asked about his, the conversation took a turn for the bizarre.
“I would really rather not say.” he told me.
I raised an eyebrow, “That doesn’t really work with me.” I laughed because it seemed a ridiculous thing to clam up about when he had been easy to talk to up to this point.
“It tends to ruin everything right away.”
I told him I would assume drug dealer or crime syndicate boss must be the answer, then. He laughed and said, “I wish, that would be less intimidating and more interesting.”
“You should really just tell me, I’m pretty sure I can handle it.”
“Okay, I’m the senior partner in a gynecology group. Yes, I get paid, very well, to look at vaginas all day, every day.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. This was supposed to be all shocking and freak me out? Gynecologist. Ummm, and……..???
My lack of reaction left him a little speechless.
I can think of a million things guys could do for a living that would give me pause before dating them, vagina doctor is not one of them.

He then went on to explain, with pure relief and a lot less nervousness, he was looking to date someone from further away because of the practice and how the town all knows him as such. Everyone or their mother, sister-in-law and grandmother has been a patient. Eventually, even if they think they are okay with it, it starts to get inside their head.

I moved on, I’m not that fascinated by vaginas, short of my recent vajacial and general upkeep, I couldn’t care less.

Once the giant reveal was out of the way, conversation flowed freely. His kids are all out of the house, he has similar likes, dislikes and was an all-around fabulous person to spend the evening dining with……especially since Proof has AMAZING food.

At the end of coffee and dessert, he insisted on walking me to my car, he gave me a quick, very subtle, but completely pleasant goodbye kiss, asked me to text him to let him know I made it home safely, and away I went. So, how would you react? Could you get past the whole “head in a vagina all day” thing? Am I strange because it doesn’t bother me?

Matchmaker, Matchmaker……

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You have now been given the history on the rotating characters. You might have noticed, they leave much to be desired.

Now, not trying to get all discouraged, I can’t really write a blog based on the romantic possibilities of two men who will be overseas and one who stood me up on his first chance.

Enter my determined face. (grrrr) I brushed myself off and created a profile on . Oh yeah, ish is getting real up in here!

Turns out I’m quite the hot commodity on the world’s lamest dating site! (go figure)

I decided to set some guidelines for myself…age group, height, income level(let me be clear, by income level, I mean, They need one!), and ability to use proper grammar and spelling when describing themselves or emailing me. These are all somewhat important to me.

Then, I had to add rules: No endless email chain. If you have sent me ten emails in three days and not worked up the nerve to ask for my number, you either never will get around to asking me out or you’re married and is amusement for you. Neither of these are okay with me.

Oh, and endless winking…..seriously? WTF dude???!!! I think it’s creepy in the real world when a strange guy walks by, looks me up and down, then winks. Thanks for upping the creepfactor on your site. Brilliant, I tell you. (guys, winking at your girl, in a fun, conspiratorial way, is awesome. Winking at a total stranger is just creepy and does not make our panties fall off. Just sayin’)

So far, I have been on three dates. I have no horror stories. They were total gentlemen, showed up on time, were interesting conversationalist, and very flattering. Of course, one of these things clearly turns me off, because I have felt zero attraction to them.

One would be a great coffee pal, to hang out and discuss politics with on a Sunday morning, but I prefer my Sunday Morning in bed, and the conversation to be able to flow from one subject to the other.

One is very funny and would probably be my first choice for heading to the clubs and mocking people, but I’m looking for someone who makes me feel like I could laugh, cry, and feel compelled to kiss….he falls very short.

The last had fudged his height, but I was in flats (GASP) so it wasn’t a big issue (haha, big issue..BOOM went the pun). He was, as I explained to one of my single female co-workers, Way Too Vanilla for me. I don’t even like my ice cream vanilla, damn sure not trying a relationship with a vanilla man.

So, we have made three friends, accumulated no blood loss, not walked out on anyone yet, and have a myriad of prospects.

Tonight, a late dinner at a very upscale restaurant in Louisville.(he earned brownie points for his restaurant choice) He lives about an hour away, (yes mom, another man willing to drive all that distance just to have dinner with me) but assures me it won’t be a problem and he won’t expect me to come to him.

So, we are giving it a shot.

He says he:
is 5’11, which is perfect for me, not too tall, not too short
is an investment banker, which is fine as long as he continues to seem relaxed and fun
is energetic and adventurous, which is important to me
is a lover of art, cooking, wine, and spoiling his woman (important here, lots of these guys say women, rather than the singular form…tsk, tsk…I pick up on these things.
is 48, which is tipping my age scale….but he levels out in other areas.

So, tonight we go out with match man number 4. We shall see……..

Saint, Cast Member with a Flair

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Cast member number three is very different from the first two. First off, he is the oldest. I tend to date younger men, not obscenely younger, but in the mid-thirty range. (by tend to, I mean virtually always. I don’t do it on purpose, they just happen to be the guys who ask me out and with whom I share common interests)Saint is NOT in this category, in fact, even though I’m not certain, I’m putting him somewhere around late 40’s, possibly even early 50’s! Whoa, as I typed that number, I got a little freaked out.

Anyway…….he is very intelligent, attractive, and has his life together. It is a bit of an oddity for me, I will admit. The thing is this……

He showed interest in me from the initial meeting, I extended my hand, said hi I’m Shawn and he responded with a long pause at holding my hand and an affected, “Well, Shawn, It is a pleasure, I’m Saint.” While I write this, I realize the facial expression is the key to whether this was creepy or flattering..his face was a wide open smile and his eyes were sparkling and focused on my face. As opposed to the eyes fixated at the chest, leering, and a grin that suggested I had just been mentally undressed.

After our initial meeting, he followed up with a text telling me he enjoyed meeting me and chatting a bit. A week later he asked me out to lunch. Then……..stood me up. He had a reason, but seriously? First date stand up?!?

Now, normally this should be a batter out situation, I’m not a three strikes girl (and if I were he already has two, age and disregard for how lucky he would be to go out with me- his new house having the wrong flooring installed could have waited).

The only reason it isn’t is because he is quite charming, in a non-smarmy way. He promises to make up for it, (guys who may be reading this, two words for you…Edible Arrangements…nothing says, “I was a bit douchey and you deserve better like chocolate-dipped strawberry bouquets) and he has probably waited long enough. Since standing me up he has suggested lunch again 3 times and I have put him off.

This is where we find Saint, he’s in circling the airport in a hold pattern. Should I say yes and give him another chance, or scratch him off the list and move on? Is there a reason no one ever sends anything other than texts to apologize? Pure laziness. What does your ideal romantic guy do (in your fantasies) to make up for mistakes?

Sunday Morning, The Wounded Child

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Our next cast member is Sunday Morning. If I had to use three words to describe Sunday Morning, they would be; fraternity, sexy, incapable-of-communicating-his-damn-feelings!(yes, I just went over three words, but see the first post and remember, I Break Rules, people!)

Sunday MorningĀ and I have been acquainted for just at a year now. The day I met him, I was a little captivated. His cocky, but friendly demeanor, his playfulness, his intelligence….he was a refreshing change.

We occasionally ran into one another and would have brief, innocuous conversations, but never anything more. He is about 11 years younger than me and not really someone I would have expected any interest from.

Around late November of last year, he showed up and just hung out to chat for a couple of minutes. While he was there, one of my employees was picked up by her boyfriend. The two guys spoke briefly, as it turned out, they worked together.

Six hours later, my employee was telling me her boyfriend was texting her, asking a lot of strange questions about me and the guy I was seeing at the time. When she pressed him on why, he explained when he returned to the office, Sunday Morning had started grilling him.

He asked permission to give him my number. I gladly supplied it. (yes, I was seeing someone at the time, but he is a whole book unto himself for all of the confusion, miscommunication and heartache involved there)

I had a text from Sunday Morning within ten minutes. In fact, we texted pretty steadily for about a week. After the week, he called and asked if I was free for coffee. I was, and if I hadn’t been, I would have worked that shit out! (I did mention his good qualities, right? Funny, sexy, big enough to pick me up and lift me onto…well, whatever he wants me to be on top of..)

Coffee was nice, but he had leave coming up soon and would be gone for a few weeks. To his parent’s, then home for one night, and off to his sister’s. We kept in touch through text and phone calls, all seeming more ‘friend oriented’ than romantic. That was very cool with me, as I didn’t need to add to the chaos that my other entanglement had become.

Then, on Christmas night, while texting, I told him what a rotten day it had been. My father had been hospitalized and I was very scared and feeling very alone. He called immediately.

His schedule had been set so he would be driving home from his parent’s on the 29th, and flying out on the 30th. After a series of texts and calls, bad news relating to my father’s health, and a general sense we were becoming closer friends, Sunday Morning left his parent’s on the 28th, he was at my house late that evening, having made very good time in the snow. I never asked him How Early he had to leave his parents to get there. I knew he had come a day early, just to spend it with me and make me feel better.

He took my mind off of things for the day and a half he was there. šŸ˜‰

He stayed in consistent contact while with his sister and her family and it was nice. There was a sense of friendship between us, but also, it turned out, a lot of chemistry.

The night he flew home, he came straight to see me. We spent a few hours together, but he needed to get back, unpack and be up at 5:30am.

After he left that night, the face of things changed, considerably, with the other entanglement.

We continued to text and talk, but I kept the conversation very friend-centric and had no free time to see him.

He came to see me at work. While he was there and I was explaining what had happened with ‘other entanglement’, ‘other entanglement’ showed up with coffee to surprise me. I was surprised, as were both of them. When ‘other entanglement’ walked away, Sunday Morning stood up, smiled at me and said, “You are way too fucking good for him” I laughed it off and he said he would catch me later.

It was a couple of months before we would see one another again. ‘other entanglement’ and I had become very serious, then non-existent in that time frame. ( I know, but I’ve warned you, whole book there) When I heard from Sunday Morning, it was like sunshine after a month of darkness.

His playful, carefree, totally nonsense sort of attitude was just what I needed. We saw each other the night he sent a text message. He told me he had been aware of the relationship and when it fell apart. He said he knew it would, and that was his reason for calling. I told him everything, bad decisions, hurt feelings, devastation, all of it. He listened in a completely unsympathetic manner. He made me laugh at myself, the situation, and my reactions.

We enjoyed our time together that evening. šŸ˜‰

We saw each other sporadically for a couple of weeks, then one night he cancelled plans on me at the last minute. No explanation, no advance notice, just BOOM! I’m not going to make it. No biggie, until he did it again, with an explanation.

Texts became fewer with more time in between. I really just assumed he was seeing someone else and it had gotten serious, or at least serious enough he didn’t want to see me.

Then, I sent him a message a week before he was scheduled to deploy. I received a reply almost instantly. “My deployment date has been changed, I leave tomorrow night. I was just thinkingĀ aboutĀ you.”

I was stunned. Somehow, the whole, “I was just thinking about you” comment shocked me as much as his early departure. Before I could process and respond, another message came, “I want to see you, can we make that happen?”

“Of course. I can’t believe you are leaving tomorrow.” Lame, but it was all I had, I was shell-shocked. I had missed him, but had steered clear, thinking he was seeing someone. Now, he was leaving.

We made arrangements to see one another and grab a bite as soon as I got out of work. I left a little early. We didn’t eat. We talked and ‘stuff’ for about an hour at his place, then he asked if I could give him about an hour and he wanted to stay with me, at my place, until he had to report for duty the following morning. (before you assume the worst, he needed more like three hours, because he still needed to pack most of his gear, but he said he was going to hurry) I agreed.

Two hours later we were together at my place. It was a little surreal. It was very different. He was being oddly sentimental, he made several comments about wasted time. He hadn’t been seeing someone else, he just didn’t want to get involved with me right before he had to leave. I didn’t sleep at all that night, partially because my mind was racing, partially because this giant man was gripping me like I was his only way to stay alive.

We said goodbye as if he were leaving to go home, shower and go to work on a regular day. No big, emotional scene, no professions of anything not yet felt, but it was still a goodbye with the intent to see one another again.

I think about, and worry for, him daily. Not the way you worry for the man you are in love with, but the way you worry about someone you love. I get very frustrated with him when I think about the wasted time, but he was very frustrated with me, as well.

While I am certainly not waiting for his return, he still has to be counted as a factor in the romance equation.

Is he going to be mature enough, at some point, to be in an actual relationship? If we were going to feel more than the general affection we feel, would it have already happened? Can you please explain to me why I am so attracted to a man who likes to high five after sex? (not joking, that happened!)

Captain America

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In any current lineup of potential romances, Captain America, (not his real name) has to be mentioned first. He was the rebound guy after my divorce.

Cute, sweet, somewhat romantic, sexually adventurous, well travelled, educated….pretty much the total package.
Ahh, alas, poor Captain America! We dated for six truly fun weeks. We went to nice restaurants, hung out and cooked together, movies, flowers, surprise gifts, phone calls just because he wanted to hear my voice…he really was a stellar boyfriend. Don’t get me wrong, he was not perfect, but stellar is pretty fucking hard to find.

Then I started to feel something for him…there is a reason we call them ‘rebounds’, they are supposed to help you get comfortable with the new situation, then you bounce. Bounce, I did. He was, unbeknownst to me at the time, crushed a little. Crushed enough, in fact, to make a series of bad choices while we spent about 6 weeks not talking at all.

I was shocked when he showed up to see me out of the blue one Sunday morning. We hung out, played catch up and just enjoyed laughing and talking…….being near one another. I cannot even begin to tell you the number of times in that one hour, he told me how great I looked and how good it was to see me. It was really good to see him, too. The attraction was still there, and the spark was definitely still there.

I took a risk, sent him a text telling him I was, once again, very sorry about breaking up with him and would truly love to try again. The next day, without a response to the text, he came into my work to see me. He didn’t mention the text message, it was just more flirting, long glances, laughing and just being around one another. He had learned during the period we had dated, when I was slow in the afternoon, had timed it perfectly, and was there for close to two hours.

These visits happened two more times, until one Friday afternoon, he responded to the text message. In his response, he explained how hurt he had been when I abruptly ended things, how much he had missed our ease and comfort level, all while the energy between us was electric. Then…….BOOM! He explained he would be leaving for a month, during which time, his old girlfriend, whom he had brought over from Germany two weeks after I broke up with him, was going to move back to Germany. He would very much like for us to see one another again when he returned, though.

Pardon my French, but Are You Fucking Kidding Me???!!! All these hour, hour and a half long visits, flirting, innuendo, and you’re old girlfriend was living with you? Not okay. My response to his text was simple. “I feel humiliated by taking the step forward to suggest we could be together again. You added to it by making it seem as if you were available and interested. Failing to mention you had your old girlfriend fly over here to live with you, just two weeks after we broke up. So, no, I don’t think we will be seeing one another when you return.”

It was the last text message I would send him for close to 3 months. He sent several messages, that day and during the subsequent month. I ignored them.

Then, after I had ended a very brief relationship with the Jamaican, I ran into Captain America at a local grocery. I hate the fact there is no escaping the instant spark between us, EVERYTIME! We chatted for a bit and he was telling me he was leaving for work , two weeks in Europe. We laughed, caught up and went on our seperate ways to finish shopping.

Three weeks later, Captain America appeared before me in my store, devilish grin on his face. “Welcome back! What have you done and why do you look like the cat who ate the canary?” His smile widened, “I’ve racked my brain trying to figure out for months how to get you to go out with me again after my major fuckup.” I couldn’t help but laugh, “How’s that working out for you?” He produced two tickets from his pocket, grinned and told me it had all finally come together. I grabbed the tickets and was done. “You win.” was the only response I had, that and giggles of delight.

Captain America was the only man I had been involved with after my divorce who would show up with tickets to Wicked and Know, without a doubt, he had me. It worked for him, because he knows my weaknesses.

We began to text, go out to eat, have some insanely hot sex, and see Wicked together. There was an upfront understanding this time, though. If either of us started to feel more than our basic connection, we would talk about it, not run.

He failed. In all the time we had known one another, all the times we had sex, we never spent the night at one another’s house. I realize this may seem strange, looking back, it is strange, but it was just this unspoken understanding. Somehow, for Captain America and I, this act, more than any other, would signify something much deeper.

Imagine my surprise when he tells me one night he is going to spend the night, if it’s okay with me. It was okay with me. Later, after having some fun upstairs, we decided we wanted a wine and cigarette break. He headed downstairs before me. When I arrived at the bottom of the steps, he was texting someone. I pulled a bottle of wine out and gave it and the corkscrew to him. His phone vibrated on the table…I went to reach up in the cabinet to grab glasses….he spoke…”Ummm, before you do that, and I know you’re going to be furious with me, but I’m going to have to go.”

I closed the cabinet and turned to face him. There was no more than two minutes of conversation, then I asked him to just get his things and leave. He left promising to make it up to me and explain everything the following morning.

He explained everything, via text, the following morning. His brother…..blah, blah, yadda, yadda…..his brother and sister-in-law’s interference and their constant use of him had been an issue we had discussed on numerous occasions. Sometimes even a valid reason, just isn’t good enough.

We didn’t talk for a couple of months. (at this point, I realize you must be thinking I’ve lost my mind for letting this guy in my life over and over, truth be told, writing all of this makes me really be honest and evaluate everything……WTF Me??!!)

Then, as is his way, when enough time had passed, or he got bored, or maybe he really did miss us, as was his reasoning, he resurfaced. Let’s just have sex, no strings attached. His timing couldn’t have been more perfect. I immediately said yes to the proposition. We are currently in this strange limbo where we space out encounters by enough time to not get attached. He will be leaving the country for two years in July. The potential for a romantic whirlwind always exists with Captain America.

I am very cautious with him now, he is reserved with me. Then, twenty minutes of being around one another and we simply fall back into the same routine, affectionate gestures, meaningful conversation, etc.

I can’t decide yet, is Captain America a hero, or possibly a villian in this romantic endeavor. Time for your thoughts. Should I give Captain America a license to fly, put myself out there again, or just ride the occasional wave until he departs for other parts?

The Beginning…or The Next Chapter…

or The Finale…….or The End…we will all watch it unfold and come to our own conclusions as it happens.

They always tell you, best to start at the beginning, but I’m not one for doing what They tell me. So, we will begin far past the beginning, but I promise to have you caught up within just a couple of posts.

I was happily married, until I wasn’t happy. I was unhappily married, until I wasn’t married. I was shocked to find myself starting over, until I began to embrace my singledom.

(let’s take a break here to be clear with one another…I break rules, make up words, curse, love sarcasm and people intelligent enough to recognize it, and live my life according to my own standards. These are important things to know about me, otherwise my writing will drive you beyond mad as you try to decipher some things.)

(…and I love to take a little pause for these side notes)

Being single, after a long marriage, is somewhat like living in the Mediterranean on a beautiful yacht, only to suddenly find the yacht is sinking, then shortly thereafter, you find yourself alone, swimming in the huge, overwhelming body of water which used to rock you to sleep at night. This was my first clear thought shortly following my divorce. Now, not being one for prolonged self pity, I put my big girl panties on and forged ahead. In fact, through my entire divorce, I never even missed a day of work. It was happening, end of story.

Thus begins the pre-trial and tribulations, the ones prior to now, separated by a seven month relationship we will discuss later, over wine…..and cheese..and grapes…and crackers. (make sure you have some of those handy, because THAT will be a post worthy of its own book.

Now, however, is our beginning. We can chat about the men currently in my life and why they are completely unsuitable for me. We can discuss my HORRENDOUS fucking choices. We can toss back and forth some ideas.

Mostly, we will laugh together, be stunned together, and hopefully, find that romance worthy of slowing the world down and stepping aside.
(just to forewarn you, we are in Kentucky, so, ya’ know, adjust your expectations.)

Over the next few posts, I will acquaint you with the men currently in my life…..I’ll give you all the juicies…the shoulds, the should nots, the where the hell did that come froms.

Then, once you meet the current cast, we will date, seek, and review. Oh damn, and mock, we will mock people….A Lot!

This entry was posted on May 17, 2013. 8 Comments