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 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.


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


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.

Thursday, November 20, 2014


I'm calling this guy Clifford because its an old man name and because this guy was a good 12 years older than me. We met on OKCupid and corresponded for weeks due to conflicting schedules.

Clifford was a great writer. We wrote about everything. He told me all kinds of flattering things, he told loooooong in depth stories about hiking (snore) he introduced me to new music and bought me an album on Amazon which I thought was very generous and thoughtful. We talked about our families, our childhoods, past relationships, we talked a lot.

I wasn't that attracted to him physically but he was so sweet and such a good writer and an interesting person with a good job. I decided that he would be an experiment of sorts. Maybe I could will myself into liking him.

A few days before our date I realized the date was the same day as the opening NFL game, which usually I wouldn't care about but the Seahawks were playing so....I wore my Richard Sherman jersey to work that day and then to the date after work. If he didn't like the Seahawks, then I didn't like him.

The bar he picked was also one of the number one places to watch Seahawks games. I was 45 minutes early for our date but thought I'd find a booth and read. I was very wrong. All the tables were already full. I found another cute girl standing at the door of the bar and we tried to leverage our looks into getting guys to let us sit at their tables. Eventually the girl, Jennifer, and I found an empty table and claimed it as our own. She and I sat and watched kickoff and discussed how awful dating is. She was waiting for a guy too. We bonded quickly over two glasses of wine each and sneaking looks at the most attractive non-famous man I've ever seen in real life who was sitting nearby.

At this point, I was wishing Clifford wouldn't show up and Jennifer and I could drink and watch football. But of course Clifford arrived. The bar was at capacity so I had to leave Jennifer and our table and meet Clifford out front. Clifford didn't like football. in an effort to find a place to have dinner and talk, we had to walk literally a mile and a half, to find a restaurant that wasn't full of Seahawk fans watching the game. Finally Clifford picked a restaurant.  It was a seafood restaurant and as we sat down Clifford informed me that he didn't like seafood. I was already so over this guy and the date had just started.

When we sat down and continued talking, I noticed his teeth. My god, his teeth. Clifford's teeth looked like he had been using them to make keys. I'm sorry if this makes me shallow. Maybe I am shallow. Clifford works for a large company that I guarantee you've heard of and probably done business with. He was fairly high up in the company, he lived in a swank neighborhood, homeboy has money. "FIX YOUR GODDAMN TEETH," I silently screamed all night.

At least the seafood restaurant had a TV playing the Seahawks game so I could surreptitiously check the score. I had two drinks (in addition to the two I'd had with Jennifer) and not enough food. I drank until Clifford was fun. I asked follow up questions to his stories. In my tipsy opinion, I was a goddamn delight.

After dinner we walked a mile and a half back to my car. Clifford made his move and kissed me. I guess it was his attempt at making out. It was awful. He was shorter than me and a little chubby but I was just so repulsed by his teeth and had checked out of this date hours ago. We went our separate ways and later he contacted me to set up another date. I told Clifford that I hadn't felt a spark with him. Which, while it was an understatement, was true.

At least the Seahawks beat the Packers.

Wednesday, November 19, 2014


I can't remember this guy's name for the life of me, so we're calling him Tom. Tom was a Tinder match. It was a night I didn't have a date and didn't have the kiddo so I was up for whatever. Tom and I matched and within a few hours, we were meeting for dinner.

Guys are never as tall as they say they are. I always wear flats to first dates for just such a reason. I don't especially care if I'm taller but guys can be weird about it.

Tom and I were supposed to meet for sushi but the sushi place was closed. We met up and moved on to plan B which was a little bistro around the corner. We split an appetizer and a bottle of wine. Tom was new in town, in the military and very cute.

We got tipsy sharing the wine. Once it was done and paid for, he picked up the tab (yay!), he drove us few blocks over to a divey bar I've been to a few times. We continued having pleasant conversation about nothing over another two rounds of drinks (I got the bar tab).

After the second round of cocktails we decide to leave and Tom offers to drive me back to my car. He pulls into the parking garage and parks right next to my car. Its pretty clear we are going to make out. And we do. A lot. Its getting pretty hot and heavy in the cab of his truck but Tom's announcement that he doesn't have any condoms is enough to break my haze. I met this guy on the internet a few hours ago. I do not want to be that girl who has sex with a stranger in a car. Damn Natalie, class it up a little. I tell Tom its not a big deal about the condom because we are not having sex tonight. We chat a bit more, I get in my car and we go our separate ways.

Later that night, tucked safely in my bed, Tom and I are texting. We barely know each other so I say, "Tell me a secret." Tom responds, "I'm bi."  Um.

I don't feel qualified to handle this. I have no problem with people being gay but bisexual isn't something I've run across in my dating life. I hadn't really considered it at all and don't have a well formed opinion on the topic. My first instinct is to tell Tom that makes me uncomfortable because now I'm not just competing with other girls for his attention, but with guys as well. Tom says this isn't a concern because he's not a cheater. The conversation awkwardly devolves and we never speak again.

But I poll my friends and it's unanimous. Bi is a bridge too far. The consensus is that if one were to be in a relationship with a bisexual guy, what's to say he won't come home one day and announce, "I like you, but I've decided I'd rather be with someone who has a penis." I have no response to that. So anyway. I handled this horribly with Tom, but I don't have a penis and I'd prefer to be with someone who will only ever be happy about that fact.

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

The Navy Seal

I want to preface this by saying I am not a tag-chaser. I've been out with a few military guys but I don't actively seek them out and I don't date someone just because of the uniform. But not gonna front, a man in uniform is a turn on, most of the time, not always

The Navy Seal and I met on Tinder. And OkCupid. We set a date for a Friday night, but then I got cold feet and cancelled saying my friend had been fired and I needed to take her out. This was a total lie, but effective. I would know, I got the idea because that line had been used on me.

Anyway Navy Seal (henceforth Seal) and I rescheduled. I wasn't in a great headspace, having been dumped two days earlier. I had deleted all my dating profiles and was going to make a serious effort to learn to be single. But then Seal texted me. I felt bad for bailing the week before so I set up a pity date.

We met up in a Belltown bar on a Thursday after work. He's tall enough and attractive. A good dresser but has bad skin. Overall, I'm on board.

We start talking and its a little awkward and stilted. But its a first date, I'll give him a break. I'm asking him questions and trying to get a conversation started. He answers the questions about himself but doesn't ask me anything about myself. Just goes quiet after he finishes talking.

Fuck this noise, I'm excellent and I have excellent stories (about things besides dating even!). So I to fill the silence I talk. The whole time I'm talking, he keeps up a constant stream of, "uh huh, yeah, really, oh." I guess to show interest? Its distracting as all hell and is throwing my off my game.

And he keeps touching my hands. We are sitting in a booth across from each other. He does it when he's telling a story and when I'm telling a story. Its a little weird and lingers a little long. I'm not loving it. I'm getting less and less interested in this date and would rather home and watch Scandal at this point. I know Seal has some sort of alumni event at 7:30 so I know there is an end to this purgatory.

He suggests we go down the block to a different bar. Sure what the hell. A girl's gotta eat. So we sit at the bar and order some drinks and a pizza to split. At the bar one of the bartenders is hand carving the ice into large cube that practically fill the highball glasses. I'm so bored of Seal that I chat with the ice carver about his job.

Another bartender comes to take our drink orders. Holy hell is he cute. Bartender and I start joking around and being smartasses. Seal is total out of his depths and cannot make witty banter for shit.

At this point I start planning a way to slip my number to Cute Bartender because Seal and I do NOT have a future. Especially as he keeps touching my hands and back. Eventually he also start just grabbing my hand and holding it. I allow this to happen because...I'm not really sure what to do. I know there are infinite options as to how to deal with the unwanted touching but I do nothing.

My drink is good, the pizza is amazing and Cute Bartender keeps coming over to joke with me. If this annoys Seal, I don't give a fuck. I've never slipped my number to a guy but I keep saying I have no shame and this feels like a "put up or shut up" moment.

Seal, oblivious to all but my hand, keeps looking at me expectantly. I continue making polite conversation. The real tragedy is that Seal is an attractive guy. He has an interesting job, he's lived in other countries, he's clearly smart and would be a great catch. Buuuuut, he's being presumptuous with the hand holding and annoying with the "uh huh, yeah, really, oh." while I talk. Somewhere in life, someone gave him bad advice about how to let a girl know you are into her.

And then he pets my head.

I'm kind of in shock so I do my usual, which is to do nothing. a few minutes later it happens again. I ask, "Is there something in my hair?" "No, it just looked really soft and I wanted to pet it."

I swear to God I'm going to die alone. Who pets a girl's head? And on a FIRST DATE?

Seal excuses himself to use the restroom. I use this opportunity to furiously rummage through my purse to find something to write my number on so I can slip it to Cute Bartender. The bar's napkins are black. Undaunted, I find a white napkin in my purse and write my name and number on it. I'm putting my pen away when the Seal returns.

I tell Seal my parking meter is about to expire (True) and he pays and we leave so he can walk me to my car. As we are leaving there is no opportunity to slip Cute Bartender my number.

Is it pathetic to go back to the bar and see if I see the Cute Bartender?

Monday, November 17, 2014

I'm a mean, mean person

This guy. This fucking guy. He spent the whole conversation raggin on some ex named Kiley whose great crime was that she didn't want to go to college? He went on and on about needing to be with an ambitious worker. How he could never be with a woman who wanted to be a stay at home mom (fuck you very much dude). How he has so many goals and he was a master-networker.

And then it turns out he's a pizza delivery driver.

Which, whatever, live your life. But really? You're acting all elitist and high and mighty and you deliver pizzas? C'mon man.

Sunday, November 16, 2014


Jay and I met on OKCupid and made dinner plans for the same night we started talking. He was so very tall and handsome and the way he wrote and how smart he was made me immediately interested.

We had dinner at a restaurant down the street from my house. Jay was just as talkative as I am. The conversation was fast paced and sparkling. When the restaurant got too loud we left because we wanted to keep talking. We couldn't find anywhere quiet enough so we settled on a bench on the sidewalk and talked and talked. About everything. About real stuff. Stuff you don't usually talk about on the first date. We just clicked.

We went back to my house because it was getting too cold and I really wanted to make out with Jay. We started out kissing on the couch but we moved quickly to bed. We had sex. I really don't want to make a habit of moving so fast but we had an undeniable connection.

We stayed up until 3 AM talking. We didn't want the night to end but recognized that we should get to sleep at some point. I wouldn't let him spend the night because while sex is one thing, I can't let my guard down and sleep around just anyone.

I could listen to him talk for hours about anything and everything. Jay is 4 years older than me but he's done a lot of living. He has a story for every occasion. I think maybe he was nervous because he was talking so quickly that I was worried he was on some kind of upper. He kept saying, "God you're pretty." and at another point "I'd kill men to have sex with you." Which sounds weird now as I type it, but it made more sense in context and was very complimentary.

Just being around Jay makes me feel special. On the one hand, I feel like I'm not nearly as smart or funny as he is. But on the other hand, I feel like I must be someone special if he's willing to spend time with me. He's like the sun. He's bright and warm and delightful, but I know not to get too close.

Saturday, November 15, 2014

Goodbye Robert

So I need to wrap up the Robert misadventure. Because its done.  Here's how it started. We went on a month and half's worth of dates. We didn't have sex until two days before it ended. I tried to take it slow and get to know him. He was kind of dull but funny. Robert is smart. Robert is polite and very generous. But it wasn't quite right. Anyway, here's how it went down:

Robert picked me up and took me to see Gone Girl. We had a good little debate on the way home about the nature of one of the characters. I said I was enjoying our debate. He said it wasn't a debate because he's right. Alrighty then.

After the movie he took me home and told me we need to talk about us. He told me he doesn't want a relationship. I told him I didn't ask for one. He told me he isn't ready for a relationship and didn't want to keep hanging out because my feelings would just get stronger and I would move too fast and it wasn't fair to me. I told him that's all perfectly fine and valid and showed him the door.

But inside, I'm pissed.

Part of me wants to lash out and say, "Well, you're really too short for my tastes. You're actually a little chubby. You have a weird patch of hair on one shoulder blade. You are not a good conversationalist. You're not a gentleman."

Part of me is just wounded that he rejected me, when I wasn't that into him. You don't want to see Me anymore? Who are we kidding, I'm hot, you're average. (I know, I'm being an awful bitch today. Just let me get it out of my system)

Part of me is mad that he took away my choices. I didn't ask you for a relationship. It feels rude as hell to be told you can't have something you didn't want anyway. Apparently because I said nice things to him, he got the idea that I'm really really into him. Dude, your a good kisser and a master at cunnilingus, but I'm not falling for you. I complimented you because I'm a nice fucking person.

And I was trying to give you the hint that you should say something nice to me once in a while, because while it should shallow and needy, it sure would be nice if the guy I'm seeing would occasionally throw a compliment my way and act like he's doing more than tolerating me.

Friday, November 14, 2014


William and I connected on Tinder and OkCupid. Since it was clearly a sign from above that we needed to at least meet, we did.

William had advertised that he was 6 feet tall. He pretty clearly was not, I'd say 5'10. I'm 5'8 so I'm a good estimator. But, he was so hot. Hot hot hot. William's body is sick. He's in incredible shape, hikes, works out, crossfit, the whole thing. He's freaking ripped. Instead of making chit chat, I wanted his body on my body. Stat.

Instead, we met at a bar in my neighborhood and made polite conversation. He seemed kind and like his life was on track. He comes from a very large family which is always a source of amusement for me, an only child. I didn't realize it, but it was open mic night at the bar. No one was participating but one guy who was playing guitar and singing an original song he had written about the internet.

Since our ears were bleeding, William and I decided to head to a different bar. The bill came and we split it, which never thrills me. We walked down the street to another bar and ordered our third drinks of the evening and a chicken quesadilla to split. The conversation keeps flowing and William seems like a very polite and nice person.

I had a nagging suspicion that I was significantly smarter than him. I know this sounds braggy but facts are facts. I'm smart. Pretty darn smart. I'm slightly bugged by the thought that I'm going to be the smart one in the relationship. But then William surprises me and all by himself, he steers the conversation towards discussing books we have recently read.

Holy shit. I think I might like this guy. We split the bill at the bar and walk back to our cars. Now I'm worried that William doesn't like me. I usually only have to offer to split the bill. Him allowing me to pay is throwing me off balance.

But we get to my car and he tells me he had fun and that we should do it again. We make tentative plans for the next weekend. We move in to hug goodbye and he asks if I kiss on the first date. HAHAHA! I've done much more on a first date, not that I'm trying to make a habit of it. So we kiss. I'm getting a shiver just remembering it. It was a good kiss. He breaks off in the middle of the kiss to tell me I'm a good kisser. We kiss a little more and then have to really part ways because its about 12 degrees outside and William doesn't have gloves.

The next day he messaged me to tell me again that he had fun and to give me his number. I gave him my number. Stay tuned.

Wednesday, November 12, 2014


We met on Tinder. Todd was a single father with twin boys who were right around my Kiddo's age. He was 10 years older. I wasn't even sure why I'd swiped right because I didn't like his nose. But swipe right I did and we struck up a conversation.

Because he was old, he wanted to talk on the phone. My generation does not talk on the phone unless strictly necessary. And talking on the phone isn't necessary for setting up a date, if you ask me. I hate these stilted phone conversations with a person I've never met.

Todd suggested we meet at a restaurant in Edmonds that is literally down the street from me, so of course I agreed. He called to tell me he was running late because after work, he went home to shower and was now stuck in traffic. He apologized saying that he wanted to look nice for me and that you never get a second chance to make a first impression.

Aww. That's pretty adorable.

I'm at my house, getting ready and jammin to some tunes when Todd texts to say that traffic is bad and he's very sorry but he'll be a bit late. Since I haven't left my house and am 4 minutes from the restaurant, I'm not concerned in the least. I tell him not to worry about it.  He says, "Thank you for your grace."

"Thank you for your grace."

I don't think in the history of my life anyone has said I have grace or am even graceful. This dude is earning a lot of points before the date even starts.

As we sit down to dinner, we chat about our children, work, the usual things. Todd says he wants to take things very slow and "court" me before we get more serious. I'm very thrown off my his suggestion that we are already supposed to be exclusive. I have another date already scheduled for the following night for god's sake.

I'm also distracted by the warning signal my gaydar is giving off. And his hideous shirt.

Throughout the meal he reveals that he's been divorced not once, but twice. :-/
He asks if I want more children which is his segue to telling me he's had a vasectomy.

I'm getting less sure of this guy but nothing is a surefire dealbreaker yet so after dinner we proceed down the street to the newest on my list of favorite bars. (I can't tell you more about it. It's super small and I'm keeping it all to myself.) We stayed for a drink. Todd told a joke to the whole bar that wasn't that funny and I'd heard before. It was a Thursday so we left somewhat early.

Because he was a gentleman, Todd did walk me to my car. And kiss me. Ugh. Listen, I know its gauche to brag about yourself, but fuck it, I'm a good kisser. A really good kisser. And Todd was not on my level. #Dealbreaker

I mulled the date over in my mind for the next few days. Todd is a very nice man. He has his life together. But there are too many things I don't like about him. I texted to cancel our second date. He sent 3 texts in return basically demanding that I explain why I didn't want to see him. Instead of saying, "You seem gay. You're a bad kisser. You're a braggart." I went with the "nicer" version which was also true and told him that he intimidated me with how "together" his life is, the twice-divorced thing worried me, and the fact that he's had a vasectomy is incompatible with me probably wanting more kids someday.

Todd was a true gentleman and responded that out of all his dates he had the most hope about me, that he could understand my concerns about the two divorces and vasectomy. He thanked me for my honesty and told me to let him know if I changed my mind. Highly unlikely.

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Is This Normal?


I've only ever dated in Seattle, and barely even that. I have like a year of experience. Is it different in other cities?

I guess to a certain extent, anything not a one night stand is going to be interview-y. "Who are you? What do you like to do? Are you a nice person?" I guess if you're just spitting question after question, yeah, it would feel like being grilled by Barbara Walters. But I like to think I'm a better conversationalist than that. There should be an ebb and flow, a give and take.

And if a guy is polite, he answers the question and then asks for your answer. Observe:

Me: "So, do you have siblings?"

Him: "Yep. Two brothers."


You could tell me about them. Older? Younger? Do they live around here? Or at least say, "What about you?" Because recent slut-ventures aside, I want a man that wants to know me. I don't want to have to just start telling my life story to an unwilling audience. I want a man that gives me the feeling that he is curious about the person that I am. Not counting the minutes until he can ask if our genitals should be friends. 

Monday, November 3, 2014


I have about 20 rough drafts of other dating horror stories that have already happened. So don't you worry your pretty little head, the trainwrecks will keep on rolling. But in real life, in this present moment, I'm falling apart.

And its not just about dudes. Well, its a little about dudes. Kiddo's dad did something that upset me and makes me hurt for Kiddo. An on-again-off again relationship is stressing me out and breaking my heart.

But beyond that, its women that are hurting me. I thought I had a best friend. I leaned on her in this difficult post-divorce time. And it was a mistake. She did small things that bothered me. But I was so desperate to have a friend that I didn't set boundaries or tell her that she hurt me. My mom would tell me to let it go. And then she did something that unequivocally was hurtful and rude and I couldn't let it go. I didn't react great but I apologized when I calmed down.  She didn't apologize and there has been radio silence for a week+. I'm finding out more things about this person and as I sort through my feelings, I don't know if this is someone I can let back in my life.

I'm so frustrated that I've fallen into this pattern again. I will make a best friend and contort myself to help them, be there for them, cheerlead for them and build them up. But I don't get the same in return. I've had flakey friends. I've had dishonest friends. I've had malicious friends. I know I'm the common denominator and I've been reflecting lately. Wondering if I have some fundamental flaw that makes it impossible for me to maintain relationship.

But a friend gave me a counterpoint and I've been working on that thought instead. "Maybe this happens because I let any willing person get too close to me." I need to be a better guard of my heart.