Wednesday, December 31, 2014

New Year, New Me…Maybe

I suck at New Years Resolutions. But to be fair, I never take them very seriously. And it's usually just lose weight, but I'm in a committed relationship with carbs. I do want to do better. I read an article that if you want to make changes in your life, you need to do it before you turn 30 or its less likely to stick.

So I've been hitting the gym more frequently. Which isn't too hard because anytime I make it to the gym is better than the last year or so of my life when I went to the gym precisely zero times.  I joined a gym again and I've been dragging my ass in 3 times a week on my non-kiddo weeks. I mostly just run on the treadmill and spend the time calculating how many slices of pizza I'm earning by being at the gym. I avoid the weights section because its full of gigantic muscley  guys and I'm afraid to look like an idiot in front of them.

My pizza-meditation runs were lasting about 2 miles but since I've developed insomnia in the last few months, I've kicked the runs up to 4 miles, trying to exhaust myself so I'll sleep. 4 miles is too long to just contemplate pizza, so I also make a game of people watching. Did you know there is a whole contingent of old men who work out in jeans? Its the craziest thing. There are also a few senior couples who come in and will wait until they can get machines next to each other. So dang cute.

I also lost a ton of weight in my phone. I went through and deleted all the superfluous guy numbers. The guys who couldn't sustain a conversation so I never met up with them, the guys I hooked up with but it never went anywhere, the guys I might text when I'm drunk at 2AM on a Saturday. Gone.

The gym also serves to keep me distracted. For the past few months, on my non-kid weeks, I have plans every night. Either a date with a guy or with girlfriends. I wasn't leaving time to run errands and take care of the house or me. I'd been doing such a great job distracting myself from the loneliness of missing the kid, that I'd burnt myself out. So for the next few months, I'm cutting back. Or I'll try to. One or two outings a week. The rest of the time? Gym, chores, shower, relax.

Happy New Year!

Tuesday, December 30, 2014

What I want

"I want someone who will be monogamous and nice to his mother. And I want someone who likes musicals, but knows to just shut his mouth when I'm watching Lost. And I want someone who thinks being really into cars is lame and strip clubs are gross. I want someone who will actually empty the dishwasher instead of just taking out forks, as needed, like I do. I want someone with clean hands and feet and beefy forearms like a damn Disney prince. And I want him to genuinely like me even when I'm old. And that's what I want." -Liz Lemon (Tina Fey)

This is a quote from 30 Rock, but its no less true for me. But instead of Lost, please hush up when I'm watching a crime show. I need all the clues and evidence so I can solve the crime. Obviously.

I want a man who is sweet and kind. Who makes me think, "This is real love, this is how its supposed to be." Who does thoughtful gestures. Who will kill spiders for me and take out the trash because those are my least favorite things to do.

I want a man who good to my kid. Who sees him as a bonus not baggage. Who doesn't try to be a replacement dad, just a good role model. Who will to show my son how a good man treats the woman he loves. Who wants to come to the park with us.

I want a man who is a man. Who is driven and has a good work ethic. Who can fix things around the house and change a flat tire. Who is strong but gentle. Who has not just a job but a career. Who pays his own bills and knows how to file his taxes. Who is done living the college life and wants to have a partner, not a mommy.

I want a man who is a good kisser. Who is passionate and affectionate. Who is willing to communicate. Who will still want to take me out on a date even if we've been together for years. Who will let me go out with the girls and not worry or pout, because he knows I'm coming home to him.

I want a man who is smart. Who knows I'm smart too, and thinks that's good. Who likes to go boogie boarding or go karting, but equally enjoys watching football on the couch. Who will let me into his heart and mind, and make me feel safe enough to share my heart and mind with him as well.

It would also be pretty great if he could be at least semi-handsome, know how to cook more than ramen, and clean the bathroom every once in a while.

And that's what I want.

Saturday, December 27, 2014

Clean

I'm detoxing from Tom. That Tom. Tom who has consumed nearly a year of my life. I'm feeling more and more confident that I can cut him out of my life because he keeps being so ridiculous.

Two weeks ago, I was falling asleep around 9pm, which is rare for me. Tom and I had been texting and so I let him know that I was going to bed. He got irritated because he wanted to keep talking. My smart mouth said something about how he's frequently been falling asleep early, and not even saying anything to me, just passing out. Which I don't care about a whole lot, but if he's going to be mad at me? Stupid.

We didn't talk for 4 days. And I didn't even notice. But then I did notice and I obsessed about it and texted him. So we talked for another few days.

I live in Seattle. The Seahawks' quarterback is Russell Wilson who is a total cutie, and single. Every Tuesday he visits children at a local hospital. My boss's daughter has had to go to Children's hospital for the last few weeks (nothing major) and I jokingly told my boss that if she sees Russell, to give him my number. I told Tom this and its been radio silence ever since. Knowing him like I do, I know he's pissed. But I'm not sorry. I'm not actually going to meet Russell Wilson. Its just something funny to think about. And I'm sure he's never had a celebrity crush or looked at any other women? Bullshit.

I'm not going to apologize. I asked the girls if I was in the wrong. They said since I have a "plan" to give Russell my number, they can see how he might be hurt, but mostly that Tom's just stupid.

I have more than enough to keep me busy anyway. I think I can finally let this guy go.

Wednesday, December 24, 2014

Picky

**As a counter to this, I'm also working on things about men that are great. I do like men, but they can be really fucking stupid.**

Dear Men From Various Online Dating Websites,

Here is a non-comprehensive list of reasons I didn't respond to your message:

  • You are shorter than me. Sure, this is shallow. But being taller that someone makes me feel gangly and masculine and unattractive. I have a hard enough time hanging out with a girlfriend of mine who is 5'3. And plus, am I going to have to pick you up to kiss you? Pass.
  • You are more than a year younger than me. I'm in my late 20s. But I would wager that I'm more mature than people my age. I don't know if its because I'm an only child and I'm used to hanging out with adults, because I'm a mom, whatever. Most of my friends are older. Everyone I've dated is older. If you are younger and can demonstrate that you have your shit together, we can talk. 
  • You can't spell. I know it's texting or just the internet. But I won't have "hey u r pretty." I just won't. 
  • You call me honey, sweetie, cutie, baby, hottie. I don't know you, please call me by my name. 
  • You say something unambiguously sexual.  I don't know you. I'm not currently interested in the contents of your pants. 
  • You write "hi." and nothing else. This is boring and not a conversation starter. Ask me anything. "How was your day?" "What's your favorite flavor of ice cream?" Literally anything. Or tell me something interesting. Make an effort and stand out.
  • You can't sell yourself at all. If you say any of these things, I'm so out. Why on earth would I spend time on someone who, given time to think about how they want to present themselves, chooses the most standard, boring, generic sentiments possible. 
    • "I don't like writing about myself." 
    • "I'm a pretty average guy." 
    • "I like to have fun and laugh."
    • "If you want to know anything just ask."
  • If every single picture is a selfie. I get it, really I do. Some best pictures of me are selfies because you can stand there and take the picture over and over again until you get your angle right. But, my concern is that selfies don't always look true to how you look in person. And do you not have any friends that will take a picture of/with you?
  • If all your pictures are group shots. I'm not so invested in this that I'm going to play detective and try and figure out which guy you are. I'm going to assume you're the ugly one and move on. 
  • Your face is obscured in all the pictures. I'm going to assume you're ugly and move on.
  • You aren't in any of the pictures. I'm going to assume you're ugly and move on.
  • Your children are in the picture and their faces are clearly visible. Its not a deal breaker if you have kids. What is a dealbreaker is that you are either using your kids to get girls or don't care about putting your child's face on the internet for any random creeper to see. 
  • If I'm Tindering (yeah its a verb now) on a particularly grouchy day, I'll also swipe left if you have the following:
    • a picture holding a fish you caught. You all have this picture. I do not find it interesting.
    • a picture with a tiger. Do you know how much they drug those tigers and what a miserable life they must have? I hope the tiger mauls you.
    • a shirtless selfie. Douche
    • Pictures with you and some girl and no explanation. If you say, "Oh that's my sister or my friend," cool, I believe you. If you put nothing, I'm going to assume you guys are/were together. And I don't care that you have exes. We all do. I do care that either, 1)You guys broke up a while ago and this picture is old and no longer looks like you. 2) you're actually still together and just looking for your next girlfriend. 3) It's just weird. 

Tuesday, December 23, 2014

Lost

It was a weird day. I cleaned up the house, had lunch with a friend and then went to hang out with a guy. I don't know what I was expecting but it turned out different. We had sex and then I was kind of shown the door. So as I'm walking away, feeling like a whore, and kind of all mixed up, I passed a tattoo shop.

I've toyed with the idea of a tattoo for a while now. I have a couple ideas but I'm not sure I'm ready for something so permanent. I'm not great with commitment in any form. One of my hang ups about a tattoo is that my mom is forever telling me, "Nice girls don't get tattoos."

But I'm not a nice girl anymore.

I get this feeling once in a while, like itchy almost, where I need a change, I need to do something drastic. Usually I move, or color my hair. Sometimes I drop out of school. Once, I got a piercing. Most often, I'll go buy something edgy to wear, killer jewelry, a leather jacket, some "fuck me" heels. So as I walk past the tattoo shop, I think, maybe today's the day.

It was about 2pm on a Saturday, but I'd already had a drink that day. Can you get a tattoo if you've only had one drink? Fuck it. I go in and flip through some portfolio books, but I'm completely overwhelmed by the people that work there. Tatted from head to toe. I feel like a stupid child who doesn't know anything about anything.

So I leave and keep walking. Feeling rather shitty about myself because I'm intimidated by a tattoo shop. And I pass a Catholic church. Maybe this is the answer? I was raised Catholic. 12 years of Catholic school. I enter the church and sit in a row. And I cry a bit. And my mind wanders. I sit for about 30 minutes, but I don't feel any better so I leave.

Two blocks later, I pass a bar. And the moment felt right so I went in, posted up on the barstool and watched football and just sat for 4 vodka-crans. Half drunk and feeling better, I caught a bus to another bar for two more rounds with a friend.

When I'm not a work or being a mom, I don't know what I'm doing. And I end up filling the time with bad decisions. I'm just lost.

Monday, December 22, 2014

Jay

So I texted a little bit with Jay about our last time together. I told him if we hang out again, it can't go like that, he can't be so rough. His response was "If we hang out again?"

To which I told him that I feel bad and I feel at fault for the miscommunication, but basically he scared me. And I admitted its not fair to him because I should have kept speaking up for myself (I guess?). He said, "Oh. Scared? Oh. Okay." And that was it. I don't know what to say to that. I had to tell him that I wasn't ok with what happened, I wasn't ok with all the bruises and shit, I wasn't ok that he didn't listen to me. And if I kept saying nothing and continuing to see him, its all my fault if he hurts me again.

This whole situation is bullshit. I talked to my therapist (Surprised? I'm only half joking when I say it takes a lot of pharmaceutical drugs to make me functional) about it and he couldn't figure out what I should have done differently. I was scared. This gigantic guy I thought I could trust is hitting me. I tell him not to and stops for a little bit, but then continues to do it. And not just hit me, but tell me he likes that its hurting me. I understand there is a whole world of BDSM stuff that goes on. That was not what Jay and I had negotiated. We had really amazing, fun, and mildly rough sex on several other occasions. This was scary and not fun.

Jay and I have always been really honest with each other. So when I texted and told him that wasn't a fun experience for me, it irritates me that he basically has nothing to say. I don't even think I was expecting an apology, just an acknowledgment that next time would be different. And he couldn't, or wouldn't, give me that.

Then two weeks later, when a potential first date cancelled a half hour before dinner, I went to see Jay. Of course we had sex. And Jay was gentle. Gentle to the point that it was unsatisfying, but I guess I'm a sexual Goldilocks and its a fine line to get it just right. Oh well.

We got dressed and he took me to dinner. I like walking with him, its so natural to link arms with him. We went back to his apartment and listen to music and talked about nothing for a while. Then because he's Jay, he pontificated about his career and what he needs to go to make a name for himself. This was an interesting topic, but at this point, I've heard the speech so many times, and I don't know anything about his industry, so I can't contribute and I just feel like a groupie.

Then Jay started to not feel well so I called a car and went home. I think I have this guy nearly out of my system. Its just not fun anymore.

Saturday, December 20, 2014

Update to The Experiment


Remember that time I applied for beautifulpeople.com?

I'm in! The internet thinks I'm beautiful! My whole existence is validated!

Nah.

This website is super weird.  In addition to being a dating site (maybe?) there is a section for job postings, and a section listing events I can go to and bring friends. Like book launch parties and other sorts of things where they want a bunch of attractive people to show up and make the party look good. I guess.

There's an option to pay for premium access because of course there is. Pass. And now that I'm a member I get to vote on other applicants. The whole thing makes me feel gross. Its superficial and shallow and feels like high school. Except in high school, I'm pretty sure no one thought I was beautiful.

This website is also international. There's the options for job postings and party invites, but the site advertises itself as being a dating website. Which is super helpful if I wanted a boyfriend who lived in England. I'd have so many takers. But that's not really my objective…

And the only local guy checking me out is a very average looking 47 year old. Which is basically old enough to be my dad. I'm definitely in favor of older guys because I have a low tolerance for man-children, but I think 40 is the cutoff.

Look at this douchey email. They want me to tweet that I'm a member and say "I am beautiful. Join my beautiful world, if you can."





Holy Shit. What kind of awful people write this stuff. "Join…if you can"? I will bet my face, my literal face, that the guys who started this website are unattractive, bitter assholes.

I think mostly, I'm already biased against the site because its so superficial. More superficial than Tinder. Part of me also feels "I wouldn't want to be a member of any club that would have me as a member." I don't think of myself as beautiful. And now, seeing that about half the members are pretty average looking, I'm more certain that I'm also average looking. Which is totally fine. I think I'm smart, which is more useful that beautiful.

I highly doubt I'll talk to anyone from this site let alone meet up with them. For a hot minute I was excited about being "beautiful," so there's that.

Thursday, December 18, 2014

String Theory

In physics, string theory is a theoretical framework in which the point-like particle physics are replaced by one-dimensional objects called strings.

HAHAHAHAHA

This has nothing to do with actual String Theory because fuck physics with a rusty rake. My own String Theory is that my life is totally fine and on track and I'm happy and great, just don't pull any loose strings. Because I might cry.

I'm a giant liar. My life is all a mess and I'm a mess. I was truckin' along, feeling like I'm sort of on top of my shit. The house is clean, the kid is healthy, the cats are fine, work is busy but good. My mom asked me an innocuous question about Christmas Eve and I burst into tears.

Y'all.

I don't cry. I don't cry at movies, or sad songs, or really even if I get hurt. If the kid is hurt or upset, I'm concerned, I worry for him, I'd move mountains for him. But I probably won't cry.

Every once in a great while, I'll feel like I need to have a good cry, get it out and move along. But its a frustrating feeling because I'm never really sure what I'm upset about and I can't make myself cry and get the damn tears out.

The other day I was driving to go see "He Who Must Not Be Blogged About" or "Steve" as he requested his pseudonym be. Anyway, I'm in the car, there's traffic but whatever, I'm excited to see Steve because he's fun and nice. All the times I've been ready to cry but unable to, tear-constipated if you will, have piled up and I'm on the verge of bawling in my car. Its one of those, where I know if I start crying, I won't stop and then I'll be all puffy and snotty and un-cute when I see Steve.

So I turn on some rap and get gangster as fuck instead. You can't cry while you rap, you just can't.

So I successfully suppressed my feelings and had fun. Later the next day is when my mom asked me something benign and I lost it. In my car. In the parking lot of my gym.  I can't even really put my finger on what's wrong.

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Time Out

I need a break.

I've been dating pretty continuously all year and I'm tired. I have one more date lined up with "He Who Must Not Be Blogged About" before he leaves for two months. Will I hear from him after he leaves or when he gets back? Who knows. I hope so, but what will be, will be.

I'm going to delete my profiles and apps. I'm not going out with any guys for a while. I have no idea how long. Until it feels right I guess. I keep making stupid decisions and going out with people I don't want to spend time with. Its just not fun anymore. And honestly, the stuff with Jay shook me up.

I've had a rough year. I keep moving from guy to guy and its probably not a great strategy. It always feels fun when its new, but then I seem to end up feeling shitty about myself. I'm always worried about what I'm doing wrong. Thinking about what I need to do to keep him happy, make him like me. And then when it falls apart, because it always does, I put all the blame on myself.

But don't worry (Kate and Jenna and Lauren) and anyone else who reads this, I have more bad dates that have already happened to write about. And my life is still ridiculous even when I'm not trying to make it more complicated with men. So I'll still write. But no more men. For now.

So I'll start 2015 with a less busy social calendar. But I'm excited about it. I'm excited to stop with the stupid games of "who's going to text first?" "will he kiss me?" "should we have sex?"
And just spend more time on my kid, on my job, on my girlfriends, and me.

Wish me luck!

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

More Than Decoration

I only asked this guy to google Amy Poehler because I thought he'd be able to put the name with a face. But no. He's one of those who made it about whether or not he personally finds her attractive.



First of all, Amy Poehler is beautiful and amazing. But she's more than that. Every woman is. Its sad that some men can only value women if they find them pleasing to look at. 

Monday, December 15, 2014

Tom. Again.

We had a few good days in a row. I saw something I knew he'd like so I bought it. I was optimistic and thought I'd give it to him for Christmas. I mentioned it to him, but Tom has this annoying habit of not responding for a few hours and then when he does, he acts like my text never happened and just starts talking about the topic of his choice.

Its tricky when he does this because some times there is radio silence because he's busy but sometimes its because he's frustrated with me.

I'm so sick of this shit. I think I just like the idea of him. I like what we had and the future we planned. But I'm never going to stop having a personality so he's never going to stop trying to break me.


I'm never going to be a quiet meek little girl. Even when he'd scare the shit out of me it was never permanent.  I'm never going to be the girl that wants to play 1950s Stepford wife. For one, because I'm a horrible cook and that does not interest me. And for two, because I want more. I love being a mom. I love being in a relationship, when its good. I like having someone to take care of and someone to take care of me. But I have a brain and a job and I'll never stay with someone because I need to. I stay because I want to and because there is good in the relationship. I know I can support myself and my kid, so I don't have to put up with bullshit just to make sure the bills get paid.

I know I'm really lucky. I have my little pity parties once in a while, where I'll be all sad because its hard as hell being a single mom. But I have it better than most.  The kid's dad doesn't give me a dime, but at least he's involved.

But anyways. Tom. After the divorce, I rebounded. Tom was there. He was convenient and he understood. He was the right guy at that time. But I fell into my usual trap of thinking that not only did I need a man, but that he was the only one who would ever want me. Which is stupid. I'm getting better at life on my own. I don't need a man. I'd like to have one, but my self worth is getting better, to the point that I don't have to take being with Tom, who scares me and intimidates me and makes me feel terrible about myself.

So I really want to think I'm done with him. I tried really hard to end things nicely, because I had this stupid idea that he and I could be friends. But we can't. Because he keeps saying awful things trying to rile me up. And he was winning, but I'm done playing this game. And it goes against my nature, but I'm just going to let him have the last word, let him think I'm an awful bitch, let him think that everything is all my fault and he's fucking perfect. Good luck with that, man.

Saturday, December 13, 2014

The Experiment

Have you heard of beautifulpeople.com? Yeah, me either. While wasting time taking a break from working diligently, I stumbled upon this article about this ridiculous dating website that only let's "beautiful people" join.  So I decided to see what all the hype's about. I set up a profile, added a pic and now I'm in the midst of the 48 hour waiting period to see if I'm beautiful enough to join. 




So far, so good. But I'm honestly already bored with this website. While I'm an "applicant" I'm allowed to look through the profiles of existing members. And they are…not that beautiful. Not dog-ugly or anything. Just nothing special.

But the really pathetic part of my brain is like "Yay! Internet strangers think I'm pretty!" Clearly, I'm a well adjusted adult.

Anyway, I'm not taking this too seriously but if I get into this stupid website, I'll report back.

Friday, December 12, 2014

Jack

This was months ago but I've been thinking about this one. Jack was a Navy JAG. It occurs to me now that I've been out with a man from every branch of the military (except the Coast Guard, but do they even count? No. No they don't.) I promise it not like a thing of mine. I meet these guys online and the ones I've ended up meeting and dating didn't even have pictures of themselves in uniform. That's not the main selling point. I have my own job and benefits so I'm not trying to get added as a dependant.

Anyways, Jack was in the Navy. He was pretty cute if a little short for my taste. We ended up going on a handful of dates. The nights always ended with us making out like teenagers. He'd have me over for dinner at his place and we'd watch a movie, eat take out and kiss. Or he'd take me to dinner, we'd go for a walk, go back to my place and kiss.

Jack happened to come along before my slut phase. He was also a little paranoid. Because he was active duty and a JAG, he was all worried because I guess there is some rule in the UCMJ that you can get in trouble for having sex with someone else's spouse.  At the time, my divorce wasn't finalized but I had filed and my ex and I hadn't lived together for months.

I wasn't ready to have sex with Jack but he was so worried he'd get in trouble. I tried to talk him down, I didn't even know his last name so how could I report on him? The only people that even knew I was seeing Jack were my mom and one girlfriend, and they only knew because of my paranoia that something would happen to me. That way, if I disappeared, my mom and friend could at least tell the police, "She was seeing some guy named Jack."

Jack wouldn't be convinced though. I wasn't pressuring him to have sex but he decided that if he couldn't have sex with me, he didn't want to date me. I thought this was kind of stupid but if that was his choice, so be it. I don't have time to beg anyone to be with me.

But I wonder now if this is how I got it in my head that if I'm not putting out, no one will stay? I married my high school sweetheart. From the age of 17-27, he was the only person I had sex with. And when I got divorced, I still had all this Catholic bullshit in my head that you shouldn't sleep around because it devalues you, that no one will want you, that you're a bad person.

I've kind of detoxed from that view point now. I have sex if I want to. If two adults decide to have sex, that's their business. And that's what's happened. Quite a bit. I keep making deals with my friends and therapist, no sex until you're committed, no sex for 10 dates, etc. But I never make it. Because I have this twisted belief that no guy will stick around that long. That all I have to offer is sex.

Which isn't correct. I know I'm smart and fun and blah blah blah blah. But I'm in a weird rut. I get all nervous on dates. Even on subsequent dates with the same guy. I'm all quiet and shy and not me. So I get naked.

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Tom's Back?

Why can't I let this one go?

I know how good things between us can be. I also know how shitty he can make me feel. But if I'm honest with myself, If I wasn't so stubborn and feisty, would he say the things he says that hurt me?

I think I bring it upon myself. His effect on me is like a drug. Everytime I think I've detoxed, I relapse.  When everything's going well and I'm basking in his love, its like laying in the sunshine on a perfectly clear day in May. Its warm and relaxing and I feel satisfied. I feel safe and content.

But then the winds shift.

When he's mad, Tom can be scary. He can be childish. He'll stomp around. He'll hang up on me. He pouts. He tells me I'm rude. That I'm only giving him 30% of my effort. He makes me feel like I need to account for my every movement throughout the day. Like he'd prefer I was on house arrest. In happier times, we talked about getting married, and maybe I'd be a stay-at-home mom. But when he seems controlling, the stay-at-home mom pipe dream sounds like a way to make me dependant on him. To make me behave. Is this a fair thought or am I letting my fear run away with me?

Our fight is the same over and over. He tells me the ways I'm not being a good girlfriend. I tell him that I'm scared to give him my heart. The awful things he said have scarred me. I want to forgive but I know I'll never forget. His refusal to see that what he says and the way he acts is emotional abuse, is a sticking point for me. We can't make progress if he doesn't see that he's at fault too.

He tells me that if I can't give him my whole heart, there is no future. I don't know why everything has to be so black and white and hurried. I don't know why going slow is off the table. I see his point but surely he sees that demanding I let my guard down isn't possible. I don't think that's how emotions work.

I think a part of me knows it can't work. But I want that part to be wrong.

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

Jay #4

"That little whimper you make when I hit you really turns me on."

Great. Color me terrified.

Let me back up. Jay and I talked about the weirdness of this relationship. He says he really does like me, more than I think he does. He says that yes, he is moving but he plans to live in Seattle and L.A. He says he wants to keep seeing me as long as I'm happy and this makes me happy.

We have this whole conversation over text because Jay went to visit his dad, and then directly from there had a business trip. He asked me to come along and stay in a fancy hotel with him and explore the city by myself while he worked. It was a tempting offer but I have my own life going on so I can't just up and leave with 3 days notice.

We texted the whole time he was gone. About 2 weeks. He tells me about his travels, about his brothers, sends me pictures of the Grand Canyon, and then of course at night there's the sexting.

I'm not really a fan. I'll send pictures and I'll talk the talk because I'm a team player. But the whole thing is really for the guy. In a weird way, I feel like I'm leveraging my sex appeal to keep him interested until I see him again.

So I knew when Jay got back to town, it was going down. He was still wearing a suit from work. A man in a suit, yes please! So very quickly we are both naked. And we've always been a little rough with each other, which is fine and I've asked for and I like. But this is different. I back off and tell him to be nice. He agrees. And then doesn't. He's hitting too hard, biting too hard, pulling my hair too tight.

I'm not having fun here.  And because I'm a fucking coward, I do nothing. I already told him to be nicer and it didn't work. I'm flinching but I don't say anything else because I feel powerless and stupid. And then he says, "That little whimper you make when I hit you really turns me on." I just shut up and go with it because I don't know what else to do.

When its finally over, we lay there and talk and joke like we always do. I wait until it seems like its been long enough and then scramble into my clothes. Jay asks me to stay. I've spent the night with him before. I have a hard time sleeping, like actually sleeping, next to a guy. I usually need to be too tired to worry, or a little drunk, or actually trust them and feel safe. And I've felt safe with Jay, but not tonight.

Jay asks if I'm ok. I think this is the stupidest question ever. I'm always going to say I'm ok. I don't care if a shark just jumped out of the ocean and bit off my right arm. I'm going to say, "Oh no, I'm fine." I don't know what to say to him anyways. I didn't then and I still don't. Its my fault anyways.

I get myself in these situations and then I say nothing, so I feel like whatever happens after that is my fault because I didn't speak up enough.  He's literally a foot taller than me and has probably 100 lbs on me. So I really don't know what I was supposed to do differently, but I feel like its my fault anyways.

Monday, December 8, 2014

Goodbye Tom

Its over. I think and hope its really over. I feel a small sense of loss, but I pretty much knew this was coming for the last 4 months.

I also feel lighter. I don't have to account for my every movement. If he didn't know where I was, he would either send me a text to the effect of, "I miss you but I don't want to bother you." Which, intentional or not would make me feel guilty. or he would say nothing but later make me feel guilty for being busy.

For the last two weeks, my mom has been in town. We don't live in the same state but my parents have a condo 5 minutes from my house where they stay when they come to visit. My mom is my favorite adult in the world (my kiddo is my favorite non-adult) and she has health issues that make her future uncertain. When she is in town, I try to soak her up because I know our time is finite.

So during our last exchange, Tom is mad that I'm not texting him from the time I leave work until the time I go to bed. I'm not going to be sorry that I'm spending time with my mom and not pausing my conversation or project with her to text this jerk. Tom's dad has health problems and has been slowly declining. I would never presume to demand that Tom interrupt his time with his dad to have some inane text conversation.

We'd been going back and forth for weeks. Are we together? Are we not? My parents hated this guy. My friends and basically anyone I talked to, thought he was a bad idea. It was becoming a universal opinion that Tom was emotionally abusing me. It took me a long time to come around to that. First, because I was ignorant that emotional abuse was even a thing. Second, because I really thought he loved me. I really thought he was The One.

Friday while I was at work, we texted back and forth. Nothing much. We made plans to FaceTime that night once the kids were in bed. After work I spent the evening with my parents, grandma and kiddo. I went home and got kiddo into bed. Tom said something about being up at his parent's house which meant we would not be FaceTiming because the reception up there isn't great. Oh well. I sent him a text and went on with my life.

Saturday, I woke up and there was nothing from Tom. Oh well. He's with his kids and his parents and I had a busy day ahead of me. Saturday night, I'm at a hockey game/birthday party for my mom with about 15 people. I'm having fun and enjoying spending time with a bunch of my favorite people when I notice Tom has texted me, "goodbye."  I respond, "?? ok."

He launches into a tirade that he's been texting me and that he has some issue and he wanted to talk to me and I didn't respond and I clearly don't give two shit about him, etc. etc. I send him a screenshot of my phone showing that between my message to him on Friday, and him saying "goodbye" on Saturday, I've received nothing else. I explain to him that I have no idea what he's talking about. I put my phone away and enjoy the evening.

Sunday evening, once everything else is taken care of, I decide to rip this band aid off once and for all. I text him and basically tell him that he is unbelievable. That I received no texts from him all day Saturday and that its very telling that when he received nothing from me, he didn't try to call, he didn't try to email, he didn't text from his other phone, he didn't worry about me, or do any number of other rational things. He jumped to anger. He responds that I don't text enough from the time I get off work until bedtime. I tell him that my mom has been in town and I've been with her, but in my head I'm frustrated that I have to account for my whereabouts. I'm not on house arrest. I'm not required to give anyone a running commentary of my day.

The conversation deteriorates until I realize Tom has no intention to apologize for the Saturday freak out. I tell him that this isn't working for me. I'm tired of being told I'm rude, that I ignore him, that I'm only giving this relationship 30%. He tells me it doesn't work for him either. Tom tells me he hopes, "whoever has my attention treats me right."

"You mean my kid and my parents? Yeah, I think they will."

Sunday, December 7, 2014

Goodbye David

David and I kept in touch for months while he was away for work. He was in a remote location with spotty service. We texted nearly daily. Nothing special or especially long. He worked odd hours. Mostly he wanted to sext because there was a serious lack of girls at his location. He did take a bartender out for two dates, but claimed not to have kissed her.  On the day my divorce was final and I was feeling mixed emotions about it, David was the one who called and told me to keep my head up, that I was doing well, that I would be ok.

David and I were both counting down the days until he would be back in the Seattle area. He tried to convince me to take the day off work, pick him up at the airport and spend the day having sex.

In the end, we planned to spend a whole Sunday together. He came over and we pretty quickly ended up in bed. David didn't notice and I didn't want him to, but the sex made me cry.  He didn't hurt me. I consented, it was nothing like that. But something about they way he touched me and talked to me, made me feel disgusting. There was always something about David that made me afraid. It wasn't logical, it was a gut feeling that I continually dismissed.  We had sex again and David got out of bed to get in my shower.

I cried some more and then got in the shower with him. I knew the motions I was supposed to go through and I felt compelled to do so. Part of me also felt like I'd spent months communicating with David and that despite his history with women, he and I had something.

We went and got tacos for lunch. We went next door and I followed like a meek puppy while David perused a gun store and professed his desire to spend a lot of money. I obliged when David insisted that he wanted to drive my car.

We went back to my house to watch football. David complained about my cats. He had been to my house before and taken allergy medication, but we both knew that I had cats and that he was allergic. He asked if I had room in my freezer, because he wanted to put the cats in it. He asked if I had a barbeque, because he wanted to cook my cats. He fell asleep on my couch.

This was not how I'd envisioned it at all. I felt utterly used and foolish. Whenever I try to "go along to get along" it never works out.

After he woke up from his nap, David and I went to dinner. But he left his wallet at my house so I paid. David decided we needed to buy ice cream so I paid for that too. We went back to my house to eat the ice cream. David wanted to use my washer and dryer to do months worth of laundry. He asked again about getting rid of my cats. He invited himself to spend the night, but told me I needed to change the sheets on my bed because the current sheets had cat hair on them.

I was done. Sure, I was still mostly ignoring the part of me that was scared of him, but I couldn't take it anymore. I told David I'd prefer if he didn't spend the night. He was fine with that but asked if we could have sex again before he left. Hard pass. He took his stuff and left and I dissolved into tears.

The last I heard from David was after a bad night out. I was drunk and texted him "help." To his credit, David called and was attempting to talk me down. Most of the way through the conversation, I realized that David was drunker than me and in and out of consciousness. I hung up. The next day, he was full of "tough love" text messages basically telling me that I never change and I'm a whiner. While this may be true, it struck me as unnecessarily harsh. I made a sarcastic comment calling him Dr. Phil, and he disappeared.

David tried to be a good guy. I saved some of the sweet things he said to me because he could be incredibly complimentary. He would call when I really needed him and he knew just what to say. But he was also harsh, and that part of me was always scared of him. Sometimes I miss the funny parts of our conversations, and the way he was sweet to me, but I know I can't reach out to him.

Saturday, December 6, 2014

So Nice of You to Write

In the last week or so I've had an increase in messages on OkCupid about the same two themes which are:

  1. You are the perfect girl, except you have a kid. And
  2. You are the perfect girl, but you swear too much.
To messages like these, I would like to offer a hearty FUCK YOU.

Why even write to someone to tell them that they seem great except for some deal breaking "flaw"? I don't write to random men and say, "You are so damn hot, too bad you seem unintelligent." or "You seem sweet and nice, too bad about your fucked up teeth." 

Every time I get one of these, it bums me out for a minute. My internal monologue, who is an anxious little bitch, says "No one will ever want a single mom. You're going to die alone and no one will notice you're dead and your cats will eat your face."  Worst case scenarios escalate pretty quickly in my head. 

But then, the rest of my sexy, sexy brain says, "Nah, fuck that." I'm excellent. I have a good support system of family and friends. I have the coolest kid. My cats probably won't eat my face.  

And whatever else happens, I have my kid. He's ridiculously smart and sweet. He's turning into such a cool little person. I love his contagious enthusiasm for trains and trucks, the tender care he uses to tuck our cats and his stuffed animals into bed. I always have to pick up the tab when we go out, but he's my favorite date. I'm addicted to his sticky kisses. I love the adventures and jokes we share. 

So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to ignore all the bullshit men on the internet and go shop for some legos for my favorite guy for Christmas. 



Friday, December 5, 2014

What am I even doing?


Why am I dating? When I decided to get divorced, I spent a lot of time thinking about being alone. Because I had to weigh the chance that I'll be single for the rest of my life against the thought of staying married for the rest of my life. Spoiler alert: I chose divorce and being single again.

When Kiddo goes to spend the week with the ex, I'm relieved to have a little quiet time, for all of an afternoon and then I miss that Kid so much. I'm keeping busy, I'm developing new hobbies, I'm figuring out what I like, who I am, who I want to be. All that "Eat Pray Love" crap. (Speaking of which, God, what a dog of a book and movie)

But yesterday I had an appointment with my doctor. I hadn't seen her in 14 months and she didn't know about the divorce, my move, etc, etc. She asked a few questions and tears just sprung to my eyes. There's still some hurt just below the surface. I know that he and I weren't a good fit. I know that my Kid is still well loved and cared for by both parents. But I feel guilty and sad. Guilty because I'm the one that pulled the plug and said I can't do this anymore. Sad because no one gets married thinking they'll get divorced. Sad that I had a family and I still do, but now its completely different. 

Its such a weird sensation to be on my own. Of course its fun and freeing. I love that I can decorate my new house any way I want. I don't have to ask permission to spend a crazy amount of money on clothes. No one is going to complain that the dinner menu on a Tuesday consists solely of chocolate gelato.

I spent over 10 years in a relationship with my ex. And we still are in a relationship, but the terms are different. We share the Kid and try to stay out of each other's hair. I've gotten used to my new life and for the most part, in the last 14 months, things have changed for the better and I wouldn't undo it even if I could.

I guess I'm doing all of this because I'm an extrovert. I can't stand to be alone. Which is not the same as saying I can't stand to be single. I can have a quiet weekend at home but by Sunday night I'm almost excited to go back to work just to have co-workers to talk to. I like to be around people. So when the kid is gone, and the friends are with their guys, and there's nothing to distract me on tv, I end up with guys.

Obviously about half the dates don't go well and I go home and tell the whole internet who smells funny or is a bad kisser or can't make conversation, even awkward first date conversation. But I don't feel like I'm dating just for something to do. I have to work hard to keep myself mentally in check and not worry so much about where things are going.

So the current goal is just to find a man that I like to be around, am attracted to (and he's attracted to me), and is kind. I feel like this is not an outrageous request, right?

Thursday, December 4, 2014

Tom- The Story I Don't Want to Tell

So there's this guy, Tom. I've known him a little more than a year. Shortly after we met, we jumped into a relationship super fast. We were both rebounding off of divorces. We had kids around the same age. We moved crazy fast. We lived in different states but he'd come to visit. We talked and texted and wrote letters to each other. He consumed my phone life. We spent every spare minute on the phone. We talked about everything under the sun.

A few months in, he drops the "I love you." I say it back. We're delirious. We're in our own little cocoon of insanity were we are the only people that exist. We know everything about each other. We see each other twice a month or so. He comes to visit me and spoil me, show up with flowers, take me dancing, take me out to dinner. Help around my house without me asking him to. We have a playlist of songs that have special little meanings for just the two of us. We do everything together. We laugh about everything and we never disagree. We live in this perfect little dream world where we have sex four times a day and never tire of each other's company.

I try and tell him that this isn't real life. Its a fun little world, but its not real. We're only together the weekends when our kids are with their other parents. Tom can do his job remotely so he stays at my house for a week sometimes. During these weeks, he drives me to and from work and either texts me all day or comes to meet me for lunch. He tells me he's brainstorming ways to propose to me. He shows me rings. We talk about what kind of house we want to live in. He talks about finding a way to move closer to me. We talk about the things we'll do with our kids together. The vacations we'll have. That once he marries me, Tom thinks I should quit my job and stay home with the kids.

But the magic wears off after a few months.

We text all day. And then at night he asks how my day was. If I say, "you pretty much know, I was talking to you throughout," it angers him. If I don't respond quickly enough, it angers him. If I go out with girlfriends, Tom is jealous and doesn't believe me. If I don't call him on my way home from work, because I call my mom instead, he's jealous.

I feel myself trying to pull away. I don't encourage the talks about him proposing or what our life will look like in ten years. I feel like a pet. He wants to know where I am and what I'm doing all day. Everyday. I feel like I never have a bus ride to just read a book. I used to read 50 books a year and Tom is putting a serious crimp in that.  I never have a free night to binge watch trashy tv. If I don't want to talk or video chat, Tom pouts.

I feel like I'm losing myself. I spend too much effort apologizing to Tom for not being readily available on the phone, for going to pub trivia with friends, for falling asleep without saying goodnight. When he comes to visit he starts picking at me. I'm too quiet in the mornings so I must be mad, he reasons. When I try to explain I'm not fully awake, he acts like I've wounded him.

I have to be willing to stroke his ego. I can never contradict him. Everyone else is wrong and Tom is right. Everyone is conspiring against Tom. Tom and I need to stick together. He tells me no one will ever love me like he does.

And it feels true. I've never had a man that was romantic. Who would write love letters to me. Who would do little things just to make me smile. Who made me feel like the most beautiful woman in any room. When Tom was good, he was very good.

But when Tom was mad he was vicious.

Tom came to visit. He didn't like how much I was texting my cousins or friends, so he would go through my phone. He would find months old text messages that weren't to him or about him, but he didn't like the content and he'd pick a fight. It would be late at night and he would threaten to leave and start the ten hour drive home. I'd beg him to stay or at least wait till morning because I couldn't bear the guilt if something happened and he fell asleep at the wheel.

Tom had a background in the military and law enforcement. He was in great shape and I found him extremely sexy. But that also meant that when he was angry, I knew full well how strong he was. The training he had. Not only did he have a physical advantage, he was a trained interrogator. I never stood a chance in these fights.

One evening we were in my bedroom arguing. Tom got right in my face. I burst into tears. He kept going with his barrage. I asked him to please stop. Please let's take 20 minutes and calm down. Please stop, I'm scared of you right now. He backed away but kept talking and telling me I had no reason to be afraid. That he'd never hurt me.

And he never hurt my physically. But he left scars with his words. I'll never be able to un-hear him tell me, "No man in his right mind would ever stay with you." and "You're so messed up its not even funny." He said sorry later. He said sorry lots of times. But the words ate at me.

When he met my parents, he was weird and standoffish with my dad. He was kind and respectful to my mom but then told me and her different versions of the same story, trying to drive a wedge between us. I tried to defend him to my parents and had a blowup fight with them.

A week or so later, I told Tom we needed to take a break. I wanted to slowly fade away. I knew I couldn't be in this relationship anymore but I was to scared to tell him that. I mailed him all the stuff he left at my house. I wrote a letter thanking him for all the good times, the things he'd taught me, thanked him for loving me.

He mailed me my key and a sheet of paper where he detailed how awful I was.

Even with the hate mail and everything else, all the negativity between us, I couldn't quit him cold turkey. I'd text every few days. Tom would be sweet, would ask me to remember how good things were at the beginning, would ask how we ever got so mixed up.

And that's where we lingered for months. In this weird state where I wanted to be friendly. I missed him. Tom really had been there for me and been my best friend for months. But a romantic relationship with him scared me. My friends tried to warn me, "Tom's emotionally abusing you. Would you want your Kiddo around when Tom gets angry? What would you say if Kiddo was in a relationship like this?" And they were right.

But I couldn't stay away. Tom had some weird hold over me. No matter how much I tried to remember that he made me feel like a prisoner, that he was cruel with his words, that he was petty when we fought, I asked Tom to take me back. And he did.

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

The One that Got Away

I got this message from a guy the other day and crowd sourced a response from my girlfriends. My girlfriends are the fucking best. A selection of our responses:


  1. Can I fist bump your face?
  2. I have a strap on, so maybe your tight butt would be getting pumped. I hope you're not allergic to mayo, that's my pegging lube of choice
  3. I like your 1994 Madonna on tour headset
  4. Do big hemorrhoids bother you?
  5. Is it ok if my cat Mr Fluffy Whiskers watches
  6. You look like my brother. That's a big turn on!
  7. If I can shave your mullet
  8. I've been so constipated lately that might help me shit. 
  9. It depends if you're willing to wear the chicken costume
  10. Have you heard of Amway?
  11. Do you have herpes? Do you want to?
  12. No thanks Napoleon Dynamite
  13. Your mullet really has my panties dripping
  14. Those are the most romantic words I've ever heard! I can't wait for all the first date buttsex we're going to have. And the beautiful buttsex babies we're going to have, who will have my looks, but your lack of social skills.
I picked my favorite two and sent them to him. He read my message but never responded. I guess he'll be the one that got away. I will pine for thee, buttman.

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Intimidating

So I made a weird choice a few weeks ago. I was talking to a guy on Tinder who was easily google-able. I said something about my internet discoveries. He said it wasn't fair so I gave him the link to this blog. I can't remember if I was half-drunk or just bored or stupid, but I really didn't think this guy and I would meet up because of scheduling madness. We have, but I made a deal not to write about him. So I probably won't and this doesn't count because its not really about him.

Anyway. He read some of this madness and asked if I'd ever shown it to any guys I've ever wanted to hang out with before. I definitely have not. I'd be too self conscious to do so. And I'm not really worried because the only person who checks this on a semi-regular basis is probably Kate. (Hi Kate!)

So the dude said, "You're just very candid in your dislikes and then speaking deeply about one dude that you do like...it definitely makes it seem like you might be challenging to say the least."

Shoot me in the face. I put stuff out there and now I'm being judged on it. Its a totally fair and logical consequence but now I have this thought in my head that the person I portray to the world is a bitch. And I might be. My friend Stephanie gave a very accurate description of me once. She said, "You have a big heart, but you don't want anyone to know it."

So I told Tinder guy, "I'm candid because I'm tired of 'going along to get along.' I got married young and I settled. I spent years of my life thinking that I needed to take the attention from men that I got. And since my divorce, I'm getting better. I'm pretty and I'm smart and I deserve more. I know no one is perfect, I'm extremely flawed. But I'm not willing to settle again."

Which is darn accurate. If you added up all the time I wasted with men who were mean, or not interesting, or rude or disrespectful, or just not right for me, it would be a large portion of my dating-age life. I don't want to spend any more time with anyone I don't enjoy. So Tinder guy responded, "I get it. I said intimidating, not wrong."

I spent sometime worrying about and then thinking his response. Intimidating. That's like the third time in two months I've been told I'm intimidating.  I felt sad about it. I didn't want to be intimidating and potentially scare off a good guy. Not necessarily this Tinder guy, just any guy who would think twice about me because I'm intimidating.

But I found an awesome quote.



I love this so hard. If I put my real honest self out there, who is moody and needy and grouchy and smart alec-y and it scares a guy off? Oh well. Because I'm all those things. But I'm also funny and loving and kind and smart and honest and thoughtful and adventurous and bold and ridiculous and strong.  When I find the right guy, he'll be ok with all of it.

There are so many examples of people not showing their true colors until weeks or months into a relationship. I'm not like that. I'm genuine to a fault. And if you don't like me, its ok, because I like me (or at least I'm working on it). I'd rather have a man know, what kind of person I am up front. I'd want the same from him. And while I'm still guarded about some things and not necessarily an open book, I'm not putting on an act.

Monday, December 1, 2014

A series of bad decisions

I had a fight with a friend. She pushed and pushed and then destroyed something I'd been planning and looking forward to. And when I called her on it, I'm suddenly the bad guy. We spent most of a Saturday in a vicious cycle where I tried to explain why I was hurt. She claimed I was overreacting. I'd leave my phone alone. She'd ask a question. I'd try to explain my side and she'd shut me down. Super healthy and productive. I spent a the day alternating between angry tears and sad tears. I called my mom to talk and even she was on my side, which is huge because I really think there is a portion of my mom that loooooves to find fault with me.

But it was a Saturday. A child-free Saturday for me. And since this (ex?)friend had torpedoed my plans, I was without a date or anything to do. But I'd be damned if I wasted a child free Saturday night sitting around crying about her anymore.

I put on my "Bad Bitch" playlist, hopped in the shower, did my hair and make up, put on something cute and headed to a bar. I freaking love this bar. I have a 100% success rate of being hit on at this bar alone. I never get approached anywhere else, but something about this bar makes it happen. I think because its a janky place and in comparison, I look like a supermodel and even though about 80% of the guys in this place are a "hard pass," I'll take it. Especially on this shitshow of a day, I needed to feel pretty.

So I'm sitting at the bar, nursing a cider. The guy next to me is easily 10+ years older and we start talking football. I sing a few songs of karaoke. I talk some more with the older guy next to me. Mike? Sure, Mike. Mike and I talk about football and then he decides he should do a shot and asks what kind he should do. I have no opinion on the matter and tell Mike that. I go up to sing a song, "Just a Girl" by No Doubt. When I come back to my seat, Mike has a shot for him and a shot for me. I didn't realize I was part of this equation, but ok, sure. I take the shot. Fireball. Gross. But I thank him of course. Mike is at the bar with two other friends, one male, one female and they seem to be a couple. So about half the time he's talking with them. And I'm fine with this whole situation because my only goal for the night was to get out of the house and look cute. Mission Accomplished.

Some other guy, 60+ for sure, asks me to come sing a duet with him. "Love Shack" by the B-52s. We kill it. When I come back to my seat. Mike has bought me another cider. Well this is getting weird. I feel like I should decline but the drink is already here and I though I'm uncomfortable, I can't figure out a way out of this. Mike starts up our conversation again and starts putting his hand on the small of my back and my thigh. No thank you. Do not want.

But I suck and have no idea how to extricate myself from this and its probably all my fault because I let him buy me a shot and a drink. Fuck.

I'd been on my phone off and on through the night chatting on OKCupid with Aaron. Aaron was out and about and down to meet so I convince him to come meet me at this bar. I tell Aaron that when he arrives, he needs to act like he knows me. I tell him what I'm wearing and instruct him to come up and hug me and act like we are old friends and this is a coincidental run-in to help me get away from Mike.

Aaron shows up and plays his role perfectly. He's not that cute but he's good enough and I'm beyond thankful that he's willing to help me out like this. I'm at least 3 drinks in, so my acting probably isn't great but I really try to sell Mike on the idea that this is a crazy coincidence and Aaron and I are old friends. I don't really care if he believes me but he seems to back off. Thank you Aaron.

Aaron and I sing a duet or two and I offer to drive him home. He lives not too far and had to take the bus here to meet me and I owe him for bailing me out. He directs me to his house, not 5 minutes away and invites me in. The house is disgusting. There are pizza boxes and pet hair everywhere. Its like nasty college living, but where no one ever got fed up and cleaned a little or took the trash out.

But I owe this guy so we sit down on the couch and he puts on Galaxy Quest because I said I'd never seen it and he feels this must be rectified, immediately. As I sit on this disgusting couch, mostly tipsy, I reflect on all the stupid decisions I've made today that led to this point. And I was scared to turn down Mike, but I really don't know Aaron any better. I feel like one of those girls that if I were to be raped and/or murdered, Nancy Grace et. al. would say I had it coming.

I was so tired, and I must have looked it. Aaron offers me his bed and tells me he'll sleep on the couch. All of the sudden, there is nothing in the world I want more than to be home. In my own bed. In my own clean sheets. I decline Aaron's generous offer, thank him profusely for rescuing me at the bar, hop in my car and get my ass home.

I make it as far as the entryway before I just lay down on the floor and sob. What the fuck is wrong with me? Its like the hole in my heart when my Kiddo is with the ex, when my parents are out of town, when my friends aren't around, that I have to fill my time with something. And that something is usually bad choices and alcohol. Because I'm a glutton for punishment, I text David because I really can't stop making horrible choices.

Sunday, November 30, 2014

Jay #3

I don't know what I'm doing with this guy anymore. He's nice. We say we like each other. He's thoughtful and kind and feminist and I really enjoy talking to him. But I can't shake the feeling that I'm a placeholder until he gets where he's going.

I always knew he would moved to California pretty soon after the first of the year. And I was fine. I knew that no matter what feelings either of us developed, we were never going to be "a thing." But part of me is pissed off about it. Frequently in conversation, he'll talk about an ex. How in love they were, inside jokes they had, which girls he thought he was going to marry. And its petty and ugly of me, but it hurts. Because I don't have a real shot with Jay. If he remembers me at all, I'll be this girl he fucked for a few months before he left Seattle. The part that bugs me, is that after he says all these sappy things about exes, he'll talk about how they fucked him over and hurt him when they dumped him. How terrible these women were. How he's doing this whole "live in the moment" thing. And that pisses me off too.

Jay is so smart and would be an excellent counselor, he's certainly given me insight into a lot of shitty things that have happened/are happening to me. But I've never felt like we were on equal footing. I'm sure he has issues because he's talked about them, but he talks about them like they are already solved. Like he's this functioning, healthy person. And I'm a project, a puzzle, and someone to fuck.

Its not fun anymore. I know Jay didn't change the rules. And I know none of this makes sense. And I know I wasn't supposed to like him but I do. I don't want to be the girl who sleeps around and feels nothing. I've been her. I've tried to tell myself its fun, and that's fine if its fun for other people. But eventually, when I clear my head, I find sleeping around hollow and empty. I don't like who I am when I'm like that.

I had a period after my divorce where I bounced from guy to guy and later chronicled some of that here. I told myself and others that I was "slutting around" and reclaiming the word "slut." Repurposing it so that it wasn't an insult. But it was a phase. A phase that I think I've worked through. I should have enough external validation that guys find me attractive. So why am I still doing this?

Of course it feels different with Jay. He's not just a "hit it and quit it" situation. We have dates, we have fun, he really really understands me. But at the end of the day, its kind of just sex. We aren't going to be together. I don't know what purpose this serves. Because if I keep sleeping with him, I'm only going to like him more. And its only going to hurt worse when he leaves. So stopping now is the safer choice right?

Then why does this hurt too? Why does it feel like there are no right choices with Jay?

Saturday, November 29, 2014

As Destiny's Child Would Say...

"I'm a survivor."

I guess in comparison to children with cancer or military personnel, my struggles are minor. But I've never liked the idea that just because someone has it worse than you, you can't have it pretty tough.

Also, I guess a lot of my problems are of my own making. I chose to get divorced. I choose to continue living far from any blood relatives. I chose to quit law school. I chose to quit a lot of things really. But today especially was a tough one.

I have an obsession with true crime tv. And books. And if I'm ever accused of a crime, my library records of checking out books on decomposition or the ways bone fragments or blood spatter can be used to solve a crime look pretty damning. Add that to my propensity for watching Dateline, Forensic Files, and most of the Investigation Discovery Network (before it got too soapy and less science-y) and I look like a criminal in the making. I promise I'm not. I don't hate anyone enough to do time. And orange really isn't my color.

But back to my point. I stayed up way too late watching a Forensic Files marathon. When I binge on crime TV like this, my anxiety ratites up and I become concerned that an intruder is going to break in. I mean, attack me, whatever, but when Kiddo is with me, my anxious brain knows I can't let him down and I try to formulate solutions to entirely made up crimes that will happen to us. So at about midnight, I'm still fully awake and at a high level of paranoid, and I pop an ambien to get me to sleep.

All is well in the world for 7 hours. Then kiddo wakes me up and we see that it snowed overnight. He was in an especially good mood so we do some laughing and talking and generally being excellent. We go downstairs and I set him up with a sippy cup of milk, some cereal and cartoons. I curl up next to him on the couch and doze on and off until I'm woken up by the sudden lack of noise from the tv. The power is out. Kiddo is immediately pissed as he's in the middle of a show.

Because I can't handle a problem like a normal person, I immediately fear that the power will stay off all day and later in the week, first responders will find the frozen bodies of a toddler, a woman in her late 20s and two cats all piled together. My stomach begins to cramp and I panic because I suck at being an adult in charge.

Oh man am I sick? I think I'm sick. I think I have the flu. I've got that whole body ache going on. We're all going to die in a puddle of frozen vomit.

I get the kid more milk and get him happily distracted playing trucks after assuring him that I can't fix the electricity with his plastic tools. As I take stock of the situation, its not great. No power means no wifi, which means my cell doesn't work because there's no reception at my house. Thanks a lot asshole trees. So I can't call the utility company and I have to hope that someone else is on top of this. I was already running low on milk because I was planning to go today because yesterday was Black Friday and you're fucking crazy if you think I'm getting involved in that shitshow. No electricity means the garage door won't go up which means I need to see if I can manually lift the garage door. I have no flashlights because I'm an idiot. The only thing I have on my side is that the fireplace and stove run on gas so, worst case scenario, we all huddle around that.

it was about 8AM when the power went off and because Kiddo and I are natural homebodies with no plans until later in the day, we were still in pajamas. I get him dressed and get myself dressed. As we are putting on our shoes and I'm bracing myself to lift the goddamn door, the power comes back! Thank you Baby Jesus!

5 minutes later it goes out again. Fuck. Then it comes back on. Kiddo requests to finish his cartoon that was in progress when the incident started and my whole back is one big ouch, so sure, tv sounds great. I get him set up and zoned out in front of the tv and then slink away to take a hot shower and see if the aches are all in my anxiety-overloaded head. They are not. I have chills and the shakes. Goddamn it. I get dressed and get the kid in the car to run out to the grocery store while the power is on and before I get sicker (if that's in my future).

We get through the grocery store without incident. Milk, Oj, 7up, chicken soup. We get all the way home. The closer we get to home, I notice the traffic lights aren't working. I forgot to buy flashlights. My teeth is chattering even though I cranked the heat in the car. The power is out at the house again. Shitshitshitshit.

I drop off the groceries and try to explain to the kid why we have to go back to the store. For the sake of my pride, we go to a different grocery store. Luck is on my side and the kid is going along with all of these shenanigans with no complaints, except taking off his coat at every opportunity. I explain that there is snow on the ground and if he doesn't wear a coat, someone will call CPS on me (I don't really tell him this but I think it). He gives the zeroest of fucks and will not wear the coat in the car or the store but will where it from door to door thank the Lord.

I let him pick the color of the flashlights (red and blue), we grab batteries too. He asks if we can get cookies and I figure, "Why the fuck not? I need every tool I can to bribe good behavior because I do not have the strength to out-stubborn this kid today." Back in the bakery, we find a police man in uniform, which Kiddo thinks is the coolest thing EVER. The policeman gave him a sticker. This is a banner day for the kid. I'm so glad he's having fun because as the full body aches set in, its getting harder to act like we are having a fun adventure.

We get home to find the power is still off. I start drinking orange juice like its going out of style. I sit perfectly still on the couch because its the only semi-comfortable way to be, since I can't crawl into bed and use NyQuil to knock myself out. Fate is still on my side because I'm able to convince the kid to read books to one of the cats and then we sit on the couch and play with the new flashlights.

Is it freezing in this house because I'm sick or because the power's been off so long that we are going to get frostbite? Who made me in charge of another human life? This is terrifying.

The power flickers off and on and then stays on. And on and on. Thank you thank you thank you.
I make it through the rest of the day chugging OJ and cold medicine. I even did a load of laundry. I'm officially calling this day a success. Sure, the kid watched more tv today than I would like, but we all lived.

So back to the survivor part. I spend a lot of my life an anxious mess. I'm the human equivalent of a shaking chihuahua.  But today when all kinds of stuff went wrong, and I couldn't call for back up, I made it through. Not only did I make it, but the kid thought it was a fun day with mom, flashlights, policemen, cartoons and cookies.

I write about crazy dates or interactions with men 90% of the time, but technically the blog is called Single Seattle Girl Problems. I have a problem with doubting myself and my strength. So this is long and ramble-y, but its not really for you. Its for me. I'm stronger than I think and today was just one example.

But I'm on the couch watching another Forensic Files marathon so maybe I didn't learn anything after all.

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

William #2

William and I had lunch today. I was a little late which always throws me off my game. I apologized profusely and I was only about 10 minutes late and I text him to let him know. But I hate to be late and I hate when other people are late.

We had Mexican food for lunch. It was good and we chatted comfortably throughout the meal. After lunch he walked me to my car and then we decided to go for a walk. A really long walk with more talking. Then we stopped and had milk and bacon maple bars.

We parted ways with a hug and extremely chaste kiss (boo). I had a birthday party to attend. But it was lame so we met up later that night at a bar in Bothell because it was my turn to drive to his area. We sat in a booth and talked football foreverrrrrr. I like football, probably a bit more than the average girl but I was kind of over it. He got the first round of drinks, I got the second. We shared a plate of nachos. Is this a boring story? Cause it was a boring night.

William is so nice. I think he likes me. I feel a little awkward. He's nice but something throws me off. I'm not sure there is any chemistry there.

He walked me to my car and again left with a hug and a peck on the lips.

Dude, we full on made out on our first date. And now I get these sad pecks? Why?

I consulted with my chicks. William keeps asking me out and staying in contact. He seems to like me. Our best guess is that he's taking it slow because he likes me? The chicks say he's being respectful and trying to show that he's not just trying to get into bed. Or maybe he's not sure how he feels.

I'm kind of bored. Maybe I'm a slut, more likely its just that I'm a physical person. But if you like me, but aren't trying to hold my hand and don't seem to want to kiss me, why are we wasting each other's time?

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Carter

Carter and I meet on OKC. We message back and forth for a few solid weeks. He seems smart and funny and I enjoye our back and forth. On some evenings while we message, he'd say something a bit off, a bit…manic isn't quite the right word. But just a little odd. But nothing troubling and nothing that precludes us meeting.

We meet on a Friday. I'm 3 minutes late, if that, and I arrive to find Carter at the bar half way through a 22 oz beer. I order a cider and we talk. And talk and talk and talk. He seems a little nervous but he's funny and I'm enjoying myself.

We order a second round and keep talking. He's an interesting guy who's lived an interesting life so far. He's candid and honest. Carter really seems like a good guy. He closes out our tab and we walk two blocks over to a different bar.

The second bar is a a lot divey-er (which is never a problem in my opinion). Carter goes to the bar and returns with a cider for me (thanks!) and a pitcher of beer and a glass for himself. At this point its necessary to mention that I don't drink beer, unless its my only option. So I've seen a bunch of guys share a pitcher, but I can't recall seeing a guy put away a pitcher by himself.

Carter and I keep chatting and he's kind of adorable. He has a sister he's protective of, he has a niece he dotes on, he's close with his parents. Just sounds like a solidly nice guy. He's worked with troubled kids, he's saying all the right things about my Kid, like he knows he wouldn't be a replacement but that he would hope to be a positive role model, etc. Carter is great. This is fun! This is what makes the terrible dates worth it. He gets up to go to the restroom and kisses me on the cheek. I feel like I'm glowing. He's amazing and he's into me! He says something a little weird about how he's dating a woman in her 20s with a kid (me) and I try to back him up and say that maybe he is, we just met tonight. Slow your roll Carter. He also mentioned that he had to confess to his parents driving his previous company's van while drunk. Troubling but I'll let this ride for now.

We cash out of the second bar but decide we are having too much fun, its a Friday night, let's keep this rolling. We go to my usual spot which cracks me up because the bartender is this girl Lindsay. She's awesome and we've done a karaoke rap duet, but basically every time I go to this bar, I'm with a different dude. I can't decide if this makes me a slut or a pimp, but I'm choosing pimp.

As I'm flipping through the binder to choose a song for karaoke, Carter appears at the table with another cider for me, and another pitcher for himself. Huh...ok... Carter and I pick out songs and do a few rounds of karaoke. And then spend time talking and kissing while other people sing. We are having fun and other girls keep coming up to me while Carter is singing, saying how cute we are together.

One drunk girl tells me she likes my sweater so much that she "wants to punch me out and then take the sweater." To be fair, its a pretty dope sweater. But I placate the drunk girl and tell her lets just be friends and she can borrow the sweater. This diffuses the drunk girl. I feel like I could be a hostage negotiator.

Carter is still acting super cute and I'm having fun but I hear him murmur under his breath, something that sounds suspiciously like, "I love you," Whoa whoa whoa. Let's not be insane here. I ask him, "What did you just say?"

"Oh nothing, nothing."

"Ok, because you remember this is still a first date right?"

"You're just so genuine and fun. As soon as I saw you, I knew there was something different about you. I really like you a lot. You're such nice person and you're such a good mom"

I know this is supposed to be nice. I know this is what a lot of girls want to hear. But I'm always irritated when someone I don't know tells me about myself. I am smart and genuine. I'm not that nice (I am honest though!). And I'm a good mom, but this guy can't possibly know that about me after spending a few hours drinking together.

I cash out of the last bar and drive his drunk ass home. When we get in front of his building, Carter is trying to tell me something nice and sweet and that he thinks is romantic, but he's hiccuping non stop and is basically unintelligible.

The next morning I poll my chicks. I text Aly and Jessica and tell them that Carter was too nice (I leave out the part about the drinking for now). I'm worried I'm some jaded hardass. Is too nice a thing?  Yeah, its a thing. Aly and Jessica are pretty similar to me personality-wise, in that none of us will put up with bullshit. Aly confirms that too nice is totally a thing. Jessica advises that this guy is going to be clingy. Then I add my mom to the mix and tell them that this guy drank 2 pitchers of beer himself. Done. My Triumvirate of Women (tm)(not really)(but that would be awesome) agree homeboy has a problem.

Carter texts me to say he had a fun night and apologizes for drinking more than he planned. He wants to hang out again, with less alcohol next time. I respond that, yeah, if we hang out again, way less alcohol and tell him I'm concerned that he put away so much beer. Carter apologizes and says he hopes he didn't embarrass me.

First of all, I don't embarrass easily. Second of all, you should be embarrassed. Why would I be?
I tell him this and add that I'm worried he has a problem. The performance I saw, combined with his admission that he'd driven drunk in a company car. Yikes.

"I mean, I should be transparent with you about it. I owe you that. I have struggled with drinking for awhile now. I can't lie about that. As far as the company vehicle thing goes, I was in a really bad and abusive company and I let a lot of things get control of me and I'm really ashamed that I let it happen."

At this point, I guess I appreciate his honesty? I don't even know how to deal with this. And the part about the company car should like excuses. We've all had shitty jobs, but I don't think most of us drive drunk as a result. At least, I hope not. This sucks. I liked this guy. I guess there were little red flags all through the night but he was being so nice to me and saying all the right things so I didn't want to see it. But this is stuff I can't ignore. I can't sink more time into this guy and let him drag me down. And I also don't want to try and help him through recovery because I barely know him and I don't even know if he's ready to knock off this shit and be real with himself.

In the end, I wish him well and tell him he needs to deal with his problem, but I can't invite chaos into my life.


Monday, November 24, 2014

Goodbye Richard

Remember Richard? Oh Richard. We moved too fast but we had fun. We saw each other once a week for a few months. No one talked about this being serious but we did have a discussion that we were only sleeping with each other. I was trying my best to be a "cool girl."

For my birthday in mid August, he took me out for dinner, and go karts and laser tag and ice skating and then a movie at my house. Extra super busy, but fun.

Then just before Labor Day weekend, I needed to cancel our plans. Something came up. Richard was totally fine about it. But he said something that seemed off. I straight up asked, "Do you not want to hang out anymore?" He told me, no that's not it at all. And acted like I was crazy. I apologized and joked about being paranoid.

Then two days later Richard changed his relationship status on Facebook. To "In a Relationship." With some other girl.

What?

Seriously, what the hell? I just gave him an out. I asked if he didn't want to hang out anymore and he was too cowardly to even be honest. And this was all over text! I get that some cowards can't deal with breaking up with someone to their face, but he didn't even have to face me.

I was too stunned and bemused to be sad or mad at first. I was irritated. I was confused. But I didn't feel any great loss. We really did have meaningless sex. I guess I'd never experienced that phenomenon before. I felt used. I felt like an idiot.

I'm frustrated with the way things ended, but I knew he wasn't someone I'd want to spend much more time with. Hell, he lent me a book and I practically speed read it so I'd be done by the next time we hung out. I wanted to be able to give him the book back ASAP. I didn't want anything, even a damn paperback book, to tether us. Richard was a liar and a coward. I didn't see a future with him and I didn't want one with him anyways. I'm moving forward.

Sunday, November 23, 2014

Jason

I'm going to call this guy Jason because that is a bland and boring name and this was a bland and boring guy. Jason and I met on OKCupid and Tinder. He worked just blocks away from me so we met up for a lunch date.

We met up for sandwiches. He was tall and handsome and I could totally see this working. He had a slight Boston accent but he was mostly quiet and I had to carry the conversation. After lunch we went our separate ways and Jason said if I was bored during the upcoming weekend, I should let him know.

I bring this to my girlfriends and we discuss and analyze. What the fuck? If I'm bored, call? Do you want a second date or what?

So I set up a date(?) for Saturday. I met him at his place and we went to a pizza place around the corner and had wine. We split the bill. Ugh.

We went back to his place and took his dog on a quick walk. Then we went back to his place and watched TV. Ninja Warrior I think. Its becoming pretty clear that this is not a date. Or at least not by my definition.

Finally finally finally he makes his move and kisses me. He's a good, fun kisser. He asks if we could/should move to his bedroom. Technically this is our second date(?) so sure. We go to his room and are naked pretty quickly. He lights candles. Puzzling. We have sex. Twice. It was...not great. Like, he got his and was like, "Ok we can stop now." Oh really, cause I didn't get anything out of that so...

He walked me to my car and told me good night. At least he's polite. We continue texting for the next two weeks, mostly talking trash about sports teams. I ask if we are ever meeting up again. So we agree to meet for lunch that week.

We go to a salad bar and pay for our own lunches. He asks thoughtful questions that show he was paying attention when I talked. His accent is still adorable. I offer to show him a hidden bookstore that he'd heard of but couldn't find. Its a fine lunch but doesn't really feel like a date. I bought my own lunch, he doesn't try to hold my hand. Its just stilted. As he walks me to my building, he tells me again that if I find myself without plans that weekend, to call him.

I go back to my desk and discuss this with the girls. Is he not interested? What fuckery is this "call if you're bored" business?  Exhausted with over analyzing it all, I text Jason and find a nice way ask, "what the fuck?"  Jason responds that he just got out of a relationship A YEAR AGO and isn't really looking for anything serious. I decide that his milquetoast demeanor, bad sex, and mixed signals don't outweigh how cute he and his accent are. Next.

Friday, November 21, 2014

Jay #2

Jay and I have fallen into an easy pattern. We go and have dinner together. We see a movie and share a bag of very buttery and very salty popcorn. We walk a mile and a half back to his apartment from the theater and discuss the movie on our walk. We have amazing sex. Sometimes I spend the night. Everything feels comfortable and natural with him.

He's like a therapist for me as well. We discuss my worries and fears and he puts things into perspective. We talk about his past relationships and his difficulties with his family. I always feel better when I'm with him. Or when I know I'm about to see him. Or after I've just left him.

He tells me I'm a good mom. He tells me I'm smart and pretty and funny. Jay makes me feel light and airy. Like all good things are possible.

But there is a catch. Jay will be moving away. Due to the nature of his career field, its almost required that he moves to California. Jay has several projects in the works and is gearing up to make more progress on them after the first of the year. I know this and I respect it. And I very clearly see that my long term goals and Jay's long term goals are not compatible. We have another month, give or take, before real life pulls us in opposite directions.

We talked about it once. We both know that this relationship has an expiration date, though neither of us know exactly when it will end. So we aren't really "dating," but rather "living in the moment." I try to just enjoy my time with him. I try to soak up his healthy perspective, his positive attitude, his unflagging optimism. I pull Jay in close to me to try to absorb a little bit of him. I know it won't last forever or very much longer, but my life is richer for having Jay in it. I feel special that he repeatedly wants to spend time with me. That he likes me.

I think, barring the unforeseen, we can always be friends. And I hope we are. Jay is a really, really great person. And I don't say this lightly. But I've never known someone like him.

Its getting hard to not have feelings. Of course I like him and he likes me. But its more than that, and I can't let that happen because it isn't fair to either of us. So for now, I take little mental snapshots. I live in this happy moment.