Thursday, May 16, 2013
The Science of Online Dating
When you're single, meeting new people is tough. You can go to bars, but if you live in a small city like I do, you see the same people all the time. Bo-ring. My schedule between work and the kids doesn't allow me a lot of time to look into other things to do around the city so I can meet people, though I doubt there's much anyway.
Online dating, in theory, is a great idea. Here's why: I can put all the little details out there in plain sight that may initially determine whether or not someone wants to know me better. In a bar, you can't tell by looking at someone if they're employed, if they have kids, if they're divorced, if they like Thai food, etc. Unfortunately, it has come to my attention that people have absolutely no idea what they're doing. I find myself wanting to facepalm after every profile I read. If you ever want to give online dating a whirl, let me tell you what to look out for. Keep in mind, I'm a straight woman, so I'm describing the most common straight men's profiles I've seen so far. I'm generalizing based on the hundreds of profiles I've looked at. I'm sure the women's profiles are just as entertaining. Maybe I'll creep on them and do a follow up blog. Anyway, here is what I've come up with so far:
Mr. Obviously Can't Keep It In His Pants
This guy is out to get laid and he's not afraid to talk about it. He is not looking for long term dating, or anything that resembles a relationship. He might only want to hang out with you once and not care what your name is. He wants to fuck. He'll fuck an empty couch if he can find one. His standards are probably low, even though he's moderately attractive. He could also have herpes. Or AIDS. He's most likely a douche bag and will send you pictures of his dick before you even have a chance to ask.
Mr. Not So Obviously Can't Keep It In His Pants
This guy is tricky. He's a little more suave than his cousin, Mr. Obviously Can't Keep It In His Pants. He pretends like he wants to get to know you. He'll even meet you at a neutral place and want to get "coffee". He'll look you in the eye, tell you you're beautiful, ask you why you're single, and charm you to a point where you begin thinking of centerpieces for your wedding. After your first date, he'll text you to say he had a great time. Then..........he'll ask if you want to come over to his place to watch a movie next time. Yes, "watching a movie" still has the same definition as it did in high school, only now, your date is old enough to buy beer or wine or maybe even roofies. Know the signs. He puts in solid groundwork in order to sleep with you because he likes the chase. If you sleep with him, there are two possible outcomes: a) He never speaks to you again so he can move on to his next victim or b) He wants to have you over again to watch another movie, which also means he wants to fuck you again and never take you to dinner. You're also never getting married.
Mr. Kinky
Purely sex driven, this guy has some sort of fantasy that he discovered in a porno and is anxiously searching for someone to help him fulfill it. I personally think this is the kind of guy that belongs on Craigslist and not on official dating sites, but he can't help himself. He's either looking for someone to dominate him or for someone he can dominate and make his "slave". Or he's looking for someone to pee on. Sometimes he's married and his wife isn't into the same things he is, or his wife wants to get involved but she'd rather watch. Yeah......no.
Mr. Graduate
Apparently, when you're 30, you're extremely hot to anyone between the ages of 18 and 25. As flattering as this is, to me, it's also hilarious. I've probably received more messages from guys in their early 20's than in my preferred age range. Some as young as 18 and 19. What do you think we have in common, kids? I have real problems, like where am I going to send my kids to school next year, not which bar am I going to hit up this weekend or where I can get in with my fake ID. Especially since I haven't had a fake ID in about 12 years. Mr. Graduate teeters alongside Mr. Kinky because some just have a fantasy of being with an "older" woman.......
That's right. Older. Where did I put the wine?
Mr. Bitter
He openly states that his heart's been broken (join the club, pal), that he's actually a really nice guy and then complains that:
"Women are shallow. Women only want guys with money, or guys who are really good looking, or guys with big dicks, etc....."
Well, yeah.....I mean, basically, that's what we want. Is that realistic? Not always. We'd also like a good guy who has his shit together and is confident. Why would I want to date your whiny ass? I don't have the time to prove that I'm a good person and change your mind about the female species. And you're not going to grab my attention by openly insulting women in general. "Nice" guys don't finish last. Guy who know their worth do. Beware of this one. He'll cling to you like a dryer sheet if you're nice to him. I think this is also the kind of guy who posts vague status updates on Facebook. Or he'll just post this as his status:
:(
........and sit back and wait for the ladies to post comments like, "What's wrong, hun?" "Don't be sad!" "I'm here if you need to talk". Alright, I'm getting carried away. But I KNOW you know what I'm talking about.
Mr. Macho
His main picture is him with his shirt off at the gym. What? Who does that? The next picture is of him in a shirt that he clearly bought at Baby Gap. There may also be several other pictures of him shirtless, or my personal favorite, him pulling up his shirt to reveal his six pack like it's some secret he's letting you in on. He's muscley, he's tan, he has 5 brain cells. He may or may not assume that every bitch wants him. I've seen this go two different ways. Either he's sweet and really stupid or he's arrogant and really stupid. If you're a smart woman and you like conversations about things other than protein shakes and how Jersey Shore deserved another season, keep looking.
Mr. Man Who Has No Business Dating Anyone Until He Gets His Life Together
This is one of my favorites. Ok, so there are a multitude of different scenarios this guy could be in. He's 37, and he lives with his parents because he's going through a divorce. He still lives with his baby mama because he can't find a place. He doesn't have a car. He doesn't have a job. He's a full time student who also plays volleyball three nights a week and is very busy but he'll "make time for the right person". Really? You would fit little ol' me into your busy, busy schedule, sir? Go fuck yourself. Just wait, gentlemen. Wait until all your duckies are in a row and you're ready to date or have a relationship if that's what you want. Single women aren't going anywhere. Our options are too limited.
Mr. Liar, Liar Pants on Fire
Ah, the internet. Where we can be who we want to appear to be any time we'd like. This guy has one or two pictures on his profile. They're probably black and white or with some sort of edited effect to make the picture nondescript. If they are actually normal and not edited, then he looks pretty damn attractive. After you move past the picture, he might leave some things blank, like his income. And that's ok, you think. That's sort of personal anyway. His job is listed as "Other". His height is 5'8". Again, that's ok. He's not tall but still taller than you. His status is "Single". Perfect! So you get to talking, you hit it off, and decide to meet. The man you meet is not the man you've been talking to for five days straight. Turns out, he's 5'4", bald, and he looks nothing like his picture that must have been taken three years ago. By the way, he's "separated", not "single". Oh! And he works at Wal-mart as a janitor. Next!
Mr. Moron
This is a guy who doesn't seem to really give a shit or maybe he's just not the brightest crayon in the box. His profile is about three barely legible lines long and this is what they are:
"Just a simple guy who likes to have fun easygoing love music and movies camping i hate describing myself so if you like what you see you know what to do."
How well did third grade language arts go for you? Oh and you like to have fun? I'm sorry, I'm actually only interested in guys who HATE fun. Movies and music? Wow. It is so rare to meet someone who's into both. Make an effort for fuck's sake. This might sound over analytical, but if you don't put enough effort into your silly little dating profile, how much effort are you going to put into a relationship?
Mr. Greatest Father In The World (How do you know he's the greatest? Because he'll tell you)
The first thing he tells you is that he puts his kids first, before any woman. His kids are his entire world. They are his everything and he loves them so much. He shares custody with his ex (who is a two-timing bitch) and he had to fight for custody because New York state is bullshit and he's broke because he had to shell out his life savings to get a good lawyer. He listens to heavy metal and loves the Jets.
Now, if you followed directions correctly, judging by the little questionnaire you filled out, I already know that you have children. And that's all I need to know at first. I will assume that you're a stand up guy and a good father until you prove to be otherwise. Take a seat. Calm down. I'm not your therapist, I just want to go out to dinner. Your profile tells me nothing about YOU, which is who I'd want to date, not your kids (though I'm sure they're awesome).
Mr. Over Achiever
This fucking guy. This guy exists to make you feel inadequate about your life. He has two bachelors' degrees, a master's degree, and he's currently working on his PhD. He was a foreign exchange student in China and speaks Mandarin fluently. He also learned Russian, Italian, and Swahili, just for fun. He's been to 24 countries (and counting!), and would love to someday be a global ambassador for......something. When he's not globe trotting, he plays softball, basketball, golf, and he works out five days a week. He plays piano, guitar, and he's teaching himself how to play jazz flute because, he loves jazz. He works at a Fortune 500 company and volunteers at the animal shelter on the weekends. He'd really like to settle down with someone as equally as perfect as he is. Must love to travel! Hand me a barf bag.
I'm tired and have no idea how to properly bring this to a close. All I'll say is, you can't make this stuff up.
If you've had similar experiences as I have, please share in the comments below. I'd love to know that I'm not alone.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
What's That On My Sleeve? Oh, It's Just My Heart. Someone Bring Me a Stainstick!
I'm going to go out on a limb here, and assume that if you're reading this, you've also read my previous blogs. In case you haven't, you can refer to this post and then this one, if you'd like to know what I'm talking about.
I was seeing this amazing guy, J, in September but things sort of fizzled. He still, to this day, texts me occasionally to say hi or see how I'm doing or to "hang out" after 10 pm on Fridays. I typically respond with, "I can't" or "I have the kids" or "I'm feeding starving children in Somalia, I can't talk right now". Most of the time, the excuses are valid. The rest of the time, I don't want to be around him because I know that things aren't going anywhere and I don't want to like him so much. I hate it. He's everything. He is everything I want, except for the fact that he's not head over heels for me. I haven't clicked with anyone the way that I have with him. It's heart wrenching that he hasn't made more of an effort with me. I mean, this is a guy that I could potentially llllllooooooo-----aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh I can't even say it.
He texted me for three consecutive nights wanting to hang out, and every time it was very late. I couldn't take it anymore. Now normally, I would just ignore him until he went away which is what I've done in the past. It sounds ridiculous and desperate, but every time J texts me, I'm always hoping it's for something more than just a...........cuddle call (which, apparently, is all he claims to want. Chyeah, right). So after the third night, I snapped. Something happens as you get older. I think it's called something like..........not giving a fuck.
I texted him back and said, "Just stop. Stop texting me." He immediately called me. I then proceeded to call him out on all of his bullshit, but first, I confessed to everything that was bothering and how I truly felt about him. I spilled it all. I told him that if he let me, I would make him dinner all the time. I would make him laugh every day. I would watch every Giants game with him wearing nothing but Victor Cruz's jersey. I would encourage him, support him, and be his best friend. A year or two ago, I never would have had the guts to be so forward with my feelings, but fuck it. He needed to know.
He claimed to feel the same way for me and proceeded to list everything he likes about me. So what's the problem? I asked. He finally came clean and told me about the relationship he had several years ago which has left him bruised and broken. This girl completely messed him up. As sad as it is, most of us have had a relationship like this by the time we're 3o. One that tears you apart, crushes your soul, and makes you question if life is worth the pain that comes with loving someone else.
Some of us get over it.
Some of us blog about it.
And some of us punish everyone else who falls for us by not trusting them.
I didn't push the issue. Maybe it's true that he's still messed up and there's nothing I can do to fix it. Maybe it's that I'm not the right girl to pull him out of his five year funk. I told him that I'm at the point of all or nothing, and the in between is not an option for me. My feelings are too strong even for a friendship (and I can barely keep up with the friends that I do have). No more texties. No more calls. Fin. He objected. "I can't imagine not being able to talk to you again," he said. "I can't imagine why you won't even give this a chance," I said. We went around in circles for hours. Me, pathetically in tears, telling him that it hurts too much to keep dragging this out, and him, trying to talk me out of losing contact with him while at the same time, trying to get me to let him come over to wipe away my tears. At 4 am, I was exhausted. I said goodbye, he said that it better not be the last goodbye he hears from me, and that was it.
I didn't hear from him the next day or the day after that. I do the dumbest, girliest, most psychotic things when I'm sad. Like I read alllllllll of our text messages to each other from the beginning. Abraham Lincoln is our favorite president, and we used to text Lincoln quotes to each other in the mornings. I know......how adorkable is that? Then, while at a party with some old friends, along with some new friends, I looked around and realized how well he'd fit in with everybody. I thought about my Beeches, and my other friends, and how well he'd fit in with them, too. It sucks, and there's nothing I can do. While on the phone the other night, in between the tears, he lamented on how we both want to move south one day. "Penny, it can be our 10 year plan! And we can take the kids to the beach on the weekends!" he said. Did I mention that he gave me a nickname? It started out as Jenny, then it went to Jenny Penny, then just Penny. He loves my name, which to me, is odd because it's so incredibly common and not that special, but he loves it. Sigh.
I don't know why he spoke of a future with me. Doesn't he know that you can't say that kind of thing to a girl without her sort of hoping that it's true? Why did he even bother trying to date at all if he wasn't ready? He's a good looking guy, why couldn't he just let me go after the first time we met and chase after someone else? I suppose I'll never really know. And I guess this is one situation where that stupid saying that I hate will actually make sense: "If you love (or just really, really like!!!!) someone, set them free. If they come back, they're yours. If they don't, they never were."
This is going to suck. I haven't been this hung up over a guy since I started dating my ex-husband. I guess I'll go get that gym membership that I've been putting off, master the ukulele, and keep volunteering during my downtime. I'll try to forget. I'll delete him from my phone, as hard as it's going to be. And if he tries to get in touch with me, I'll have to ignore him. It's going to take some sort of grand gesture to change my mind, but something's telling me not to hold my breath waiting for it.
In a weird, twisted way, this has made me realize something about myself. After what I've been through, I'm still pretty much ok. I haven't shot down the possibility of love or even marriage again. I'm not totally broken anymore. I picked myself up, and got back into the game. And I am NOT athletic. I've made great strides in the last year and a half, and J can't even commit to a dinner date after five years of being single. Life really is too short to miss out on the possibility of something awesome.
This song doesn't really have to do with much of anything. I just love it.
I was seeing this amazing guy, J, in September but things sort of fizzled. He still, to this day, texts me occasionally to say hi or see how I'm doing or to "hang out" after 10 pm on Fridays. I typically respond with, "I can't" or "I have the kids" or "I'm feeding starving children in Somalia, I can't talk right now". Most of the time, the excuses are valid. The rest of the time, I don't want to be around him because I know that things aren't going anywhere and I don't want to like him so much. I hate it. He's everything. He is everything I want, except for the fact that he's not head over heels for me. I haven't clicked with anyone the way that I have with him. It's heart wrenching that he hasn't made more of an effort with me. I mean, this is a guy that I could potentially llllllooooooo-----aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh I can't even say it.
He texted me for three consecutive nights wanting to hang out, and every time it was very late. I couldn't take it anymore. Now normally, I would just ignore him until he went away which is what I've done in the past. It sounds ridiculous and desperate, but every time J texts me, I'm always hoping it's for something more than just a...........cuddle call (which, apparently, is all he claims to want. Chyeah, right). So after the third night, I snapped. Something happens as you get older. I think it's called something like..........not giving a fuck.
I texted him back and said, "Just stop. Stop texting me." He immediately called me. I then proceeded to call him out on all of his bullshit, but first, I confessed to everything that was bothering and how I truly felt about him. I spilled it all. I told him that if he let me, I would make him dinner all the time. I would make him laugh every day. I would watch every Giants game with him wearing nothing but Victor Cruz's jersey. I would encourage him, support him, and be his best friend. A year or two ago, I never would have had the guts to be so forward with my feelings, but fuck it. He needed to know.
He claimed to feel the same way for me and proceeded to list everything he likes about me. So what's the problem? I asked. He finally came clean and told me about the relationship he had several years ago which has left him bruised and broken. This girl completely messed him up. As sad as it is, most of us have had a relationship like this by the time we're 3o. One that tears you apart, crushes your soul, and makes you question if life is worth the pain that comes with loving someone else.
Some of us get over it.
Some of us blog about it.
And some of us punish everyone else who falls for us by not trusting them.
I didn't push the issue. Maybe it's true that he's still messed up and there's nothing I can do to fix it. Maybe it's that I'm not the right girl to pull him out of his five year funk. I told him that I'm at the point of all or nothing, and the in between is not an option for me. My feelings are too strong even for a friendship (and I can barely keep up with the friends that I do have). No more texties. No more calls. Fin. He objected. "I can't imagine not being able to talk to you again," he said. "I can't imagine why you won't even give this a chance," I said. We went around in circles for hours. Me, pathetically in tears, telling him that it hurts too much to keep dragging this out, and him, trying to talk me out of losing contact with him while at the same time, trying to get me to let him come over to wipe away my tears. At 4 am, I was exhausted. I said goodbye, he said that it better not be the last goodbye he hears from me, and that was it.
I didn't hear from him the next day or the day after that. I do the dumbest, girliest, most psychotic things when I'm sad. Like I read alllllllll of our text messages to each other from the beginning. Abraham Lincoln is our favorite president, and we used to text Lincoln quotes to each other in the mornings. I know......how adorkable is that? Then, while at a party with some old friends, along with some new friends, I looked around and realized how well he'd fit in with everybody. I thought about my Beeches, and my other friends, and how well he'd fit in with them, too. It sucks, and there's nothing I can do. While on the phone the other night, in between the tears, he lamented on how we both want to move south one day. "Penny, it can be our 10 year plan! And we can take the kids to the beach on the weekends!" he said. Did I mention that he gave me a nickname? It started out as Jenny, then it went to Jenny Penny, then just Penny. He loves my name, which to me, is odd because it's so incredibly common and not that special, but he loves it. Sigh.
I don't know why he spoke of a future with me. Doesn't he know that you can't say that kind of thing to a girl without her sort of hoping that it's true? Why did he even bother trying to date at all if he wasn't ready? He's a good looking guy, why couldn't he just let me go after the first time we met and chase after someone else? I suppose I'll never really know. And I guess this is one situation where that stupid saying that I hate will actually make sense: "If you love (or just really, really like!!!!) someone, set them free. If they come back, they're yours. If they don't, they never were."
This is going to suck. I haven't been this hung up over a guy since I started dating my ex-husband. I guess I'll go get that gym membership that I've been putting off, master the ukulele, and keep volunteering during my downtime. I'll try to forget. I'll delete him from my phone, as hard as it's going to be. And if he tries to get in touch with me, I'll have to ignore him. It's going to take some sort of grand gesture to change my mind, but something's telling me not to hold my breath waiting for it.
In a weird, twisted way, this has made me realize something about myself. After what I've been through, I'm still pretty much ok. I haven't shot down the possibility of love or even marriage again. I'm not totally broken anymore. I picked myself up, and got back into the game. And I am NOT athletic. I've made great strides in the last year and a half, and J can't even commit to a dinner date after five years of being single. Life really is too short to miss out on the possibility of something awesome.
This song doesn't really have to do with much of anything. I just love it.
Friday, February 22, 2013
A Bun in an Unexpected Oven
I'm still a little naive about life. There are a few situations that I don't imagine I'll ever be in or have to deal with. Like I don't think I'll ever be arrested.......? I don't think I'll be stuck in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. I don't think I'll ever have to use the karate moves I learned when I was 10 years old. Murphy's Law states otherwise, but I do feel as though I'm the exception sometimes. So in a nutshell, I will perpetually have the mindset of a 16 year old girl who never thinks anything bad, weird, or awkward will ever happen to her and I'll be incredibly unprepared when it does. Life doesn't come with a handbook, just a lot of crappy, self-help books written by arrogant know-it-alls who think they've somehow figured things out before the rest of us. Today, however, Dr. Phil couldn't even have prepped me for the news I received. It felt like a blow to the head, and left me more confused about my feelings than ever before.
I found out today that my ex-husband's current girlfriend is pregnant. I wasn't expecting him to have children with anyone else ever, or at least not so soon. Let alone, less than a year since we broke up for the second time after a brief summer romance. Shocked and unexpected are the words I'd use to describe how I felt when I found out. I know for sure that I'm no longer in love with him, but I really don't know how to feel about this. I'm not jealous per se, (I am sooooo done birthing babies. D-O-N-E), but I'm not happy either. I can't force myself to congratulate him. My children's emotions obviously come before my own and they seem to be excited, yet also a little unsure of how they're supposed to feel, too. My 8 year old was adorably trying to figure out what my relationship with her future brother or sister would be. Step-mom? Aunt? I kindly had to break it to her that this situation has nothing to do with me and I......lied.....and said that I was really excited for her to have a new sibling.
I was wondering how he would react if this was flip flopped. Nothing about my situation has changed since we've split. Everything is as it was when he left. I'm in the same residence, I'm not in a relationship, and I'm definitely not having a baby. Everything is the same, right down to the furniture arrangement in my house. I might be victimizing myself a little here, but......why can't I, for once, have some big news that he has to deal with? Can't I just win the lottery and meet the man of my dreams and get married and buy a villa in France where I'll take the kids during the summertime and make him figure out how to deal with all of that information at once??? It's not fair. >insert pout and foot stomp<
Well, as much I don't want to be one sometimes, I am a mature adult. We're not competing for anything and his life has nothing to do with me anymore. I've learned a lot about myself and what I'm capable of handling, emotionally speaking. I have moved on, and let him live his own life in the way he sees fit. I think it's just difficult when someone you know so well and, at one time lived your life for, hits a major milestone like this, and it doesn't involve you. The more I sit here and let this news simmer in my mental pot of emotion, the more the negative feelings are slowly fading away. He wanted to have more children, and I was the one who did not. This is his second chance, and who am I to judge him or turn this into my "problem"? All that I should be doing is smiling, wishing them the best, sharing in the excitement with my children, and being thankful that I'm not the one with morning sickness.
Damn, it feels good to not be pregnant. And also to be a gangsta.
I found out today that my ex-husband's current girlfriend is pregnant. I wasn't expecting him to have children with anyone else ever, or at least not so soon. Let alone, less than a year since we broke up for the second time after a brief summer romance. Shocked and unexpected are the words I'd use to describe how I felt when I found out. I know for sure that I'm no longer in love with him, but I really don't know how to feel about this. I'm not jealous per se, (I am sooooo done birthing babies. D-O-N-E), but I'm not happy either. I can't force myself to congratulate him. My children's emotions obviously come before my own and they seem to be excited, yet also a little unsure of how they're supposed to feel, too. My 8 year old was adorably trying to figure out what my relationship with her future brother or sister would be. Step-mom? Aunt? I kindly had to break it to her that this situation has nothing to do with me and I......lied.....and said that I was really excited for her to have a new sibling.
I was wondering how he would react if this was flip flopped. Nothing about my situation has changed since we've split. Everything is as it was when he left. I'm in the same residence, I'm not in a relationship, and I'm definitely not having a baby. Everything is the same, right down to the furniture arrangement in my house. I might be victimizing myself a little here, but......why can't I, for once, have some big news that he has to deal with? Can't I just win the lottery and meet the man of my dreams and get married and buy a villa in France where I'll take the kids during the summertime and make him figure out how to deal with all of that information at once??? It's not fair. >insert pout and foot stomp<
Well, as much I don't want to be one sometimes, I am a mature adult. We're not competing for anything and his life has nothing to do with me anymore. I've learned a lot about myself and what I'm capable of handling, emotionally speaking. I have moved on, and let him live his own life in the way he sees fit. I think it's just difficult when someone you know so well and, at one time lived your life for, hits a major milestone like this, and it doesn't involve you. The more I sit here and let this news simmer in my mental pot of emotion, the more the negative feelings are slowly fading away. He wanted to have more children, and I was the one who did not. This is his second chance, and who am I to judge him or turn this into my "problem"? All that I should be doing is smiling, wishing them the best, sharing in the excitement with my children, and being thankful that I'm not the one with morning sickness.
Damn, it feels good to not be pregnant. And also to be a gangsta.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Happy Fucking Valentine's Day!
This is my second Valentine's Day as a single and free woman. Although I do miss the traditions my former husband and I had for this day, I'm cool being alone.
Kinda.
Would it be lovely if I woke up to a beautiful bouquet of lilies (my favorite flower, future husband who may be reading my blogs, take note.)? Absolutely! Would I feel like the luckiest girl in the world if someone took me out for a fabulous dinner? Of course! Eating is my favorite!! Oh, you bought me diamonds? Why, thank you! All of these cliched, yet touching, acts would make anyone feel like a million bucks. I was feeling a little bummed that none of this will happen to me this year, but then I sat down and really took a good, hard look at myself.
I often engage in a lot of self-deprecating humor. I make fun of myself all the time, mostly because I'd like to do it before someone else will. I make a lot of mistakes. I'm horribly awkward with people who intimidate me. I'm a chunky monkey. My hair is always frizzy, regardless of what I do to it. I'm not even trying to pick myself apart right now, but it's so easy because I'm full of faults and imperfections. And I just did it again.
I've decided to knock it the fuck off. Why am I so hard on myself? I know I'm not alone here either, so better yet, why are we all so hard on ourselves? Life is difficult, man. Especially when you're not living in an "ideal" situation. You're single, maybe you're unemployed, or you're a single mom and your ex is a douche, or your family sucks or your cat hates you or you have a really big nose.... Responsibility for our actions and our state of physicality should somewhat be taken into account, however, some things are out of our control and we have to just roll with the punches. We're not perfect. We're going to make mistakes. Lots and lots and lots of mistakes. We're not all going to look like Victoria's Secret models or pro-athletes or hell, even average looking. And so what?
I'll admit it, I've hated on a lot of people for the way they look. It seems as if some are just asking for it. Especially, if said person is also an asshole. Perhaps that person is an asshole because he or she really dislikes who they are. They're only defense mechanism is to be an asshole to everyone else because they're dissatisfied with themselves.
My point is, and I'm aware of the cheesyness, focusing on loving ourselves is going to make us happier and less bitter about things like, Valentine's Day for example. It's not easy, I think we have to make the actual choice to be happy and refuse to let things that would normally piss us off, get to us. For me, sarcasm and snarkyness are like a cozy pair of socks. I'm so comfortable with being sarcastic, I often don't realize how negative I am. Like ALL THE TIME. I'm single, so I could very easily gag at all the pictures of flowers and chocolate I've seen on Facebook so far today. But these pictures are being posted by people that I know and care about, and they're happy. They're excited. When we're excited about something, we want to tell the world, and social media has allowed that to happen. If it truly bothered me, I wouldn't still have a Facebook page and I'd be a crappy friend for not sharing in the joy with my friends. I'm not in a relationship right now, but I'm not also not dead. I'm only 30. I have time. And I'm cool with waiting for the right person to have a relationship of value with. Love is awesome.
I mean, sometimes, love crushes our souls and makes us resent everything and everyone and we fantasize about running those who have hurt us over with a truck every now and then. I'm saying.....generally, love is awesome. And if you've been in love, you know this.
Today, I'm buying myself flowers. I'm going to an enjoy a special dinner with my little girls whom I love more than anything else in the world, yes, even more than vodka. Then, I'm going to cook myself the tastiest, juiciest steak with a side of........I don't know yet, but it's going to be fucking delicious. I already bought myself a present (Perfume! I'm so sweet.) I might even make a night of it and give myself a sexy, smoky eye (That's makeup talk, for the few straight gentlemen who read my blog). I'll stare at myself in the mirror for a solid 5 minutes and admire the qualities I was blessed with. Then I'll probably finish off the night by watching The Walking Dead and slapping myself on the ass for having such a great day.
I invite you to also spoil yourself a little if no one else will. Check out your pretty eyes, or your beautiful hair, or your biceps, or your perfectly placed ears, or evaluate how good of a person you are, or how you're a hit at parties, or the fact that you pay your credit card bills on time, or how well you make your bed or how nice your hands are or well you can make macaroni and cheese out of the box, or how organized your closet is, or how good of a parent you are......pick something positive about yourself and LOVE THE SHIT OUT OF IT.
One last thing, I love you, and hope you love you too. Happy Fucking Valentine's Day, Gorgeous! ;)
Kinda.
Would it be lovely if I woke up to a beautiful bouquet of lilies (my favorite flower, future husband who may be reading my blogs, take note.)? Absolutely! Would I feel like the luckiest girl in the world if someone took me out for a fabulous dinner? Of course! Eating is my favorite!! Oh, you bought me diamonds? Why, thank you! All of these cliched, yet touching, acts would make anyone feel like a million bucks. I was feeling a little bummed that none of this will happen to me this year, but then I sat down and really took a good, hard look at myself.
I often engage in a lot of self-deprecating humor. I make fun of myself all the time, mostly because I'd like to do it before someone else will. I make a lot of mistakes. I'm horribly awkward with people who intimidate me. I'm a chunky monkey. My hair is always frizzy, regardless of what I do to it. I'm not even trying to pick myself apart right now, but it's so easy because I'm full of faults and imperfections. And I just did it again.
I've decided to knock it the fuck off. Why am I so hard on myself? I know I'm not alone here either, so better yet, why are we all so hard on ourselves? Life is difficult, man. Especially when you're not living in an "ideal" situation. You're single, maybe you're unemployed, or you're a single mom and your ex is a douche, or your family sucks or your cat hates you or you have a really big nose.... Responsibility for our actions and our state of physicality should somewhat be taken into account, however, some things are out of our control and we have to just roll with the punches. We're not perfect. We're going to make mistakes. Lots and lots and lots of mistakes. We're not all going to look like Victoria's Secret models or pro-athletes or hell, even average looking. And so what?
I'll admit it, I've hated on a lot of people for the way they look. It seems as if some are just asking for it. Especially, if said person is also an asshole. Perhaps that person is an asshole because he or she really dislikes who they are. They're only defense mechanism is to be an asshole to everyone else because they're dissatisfied with themselves.
My point is, and I'm aware of the cheesyness, focusing on loving ourselves is going to make us happier and less bitter about things like, Valentine's Day for example. It's not easy, I think we have to make the actual choice to be happy and refuse to let things that would normally piss us off, get to us. For me, sarcasm and snarkyness are like a cozy pair of socks. I'm so comfortable with being sarcastic, I often don't realize how negative I am. Like ALL THE TIME. I'm single, so I could very easily gag at all the pictures of flowers and chocolate I've seen on Facebook so far today. But these pictures are being posted by people that I know and care about, and they're happy. They're excited. When we're excited about something, we want to tell the world, and social media has allowed that to happen. If it truly bothered me, I wouldn't still have a Facebook page and I'd be a crappy friend for not sharing in the joy with my friends. I'm not in a relationship right now, but I'm not also not dead. I'm only 30. I have time. And I'm cool with waiting for the right person to have a relationship of value with. Love is awesome.
I mean, sometimes, love crushes our souls and makes us resent everything and everyone and we fantasize about running those who have hurt us over with a truck every now and then. I'm saying.....generally, love is awesome. And if you've been in love, you know this.
Today, I'm buying myself flowers. I'm going to an enjoy a special dinner with my little girls whom I love more than anything else in the world, yes, even more than vodka. Then, I'm going to cook myself the tastiest, juiciest steak with a side of........I don't know yet, but it's going to be fucking delicious. I already bought myself a present (Perfume! I'm so sweet.) I might even make a night of it and give myself a sexy, smoky eye (That's makeup talk, for the few straight gentlemen who read my blog). I'll stare at myself in the mirror for a solid 5 minutes and admire the qualities I was blessed with. Then I'll probably finish off the night by watching The Walking Dead and slapping myself on the ass for having such a great day.
I invite you to also spoil yourself a little if no one else will. Check out your pretty eyes, or your beautiful hair, or your biceps, or your perfectly placed ears, or evaluate how good of a person you are, or how you're a hit at parties, or the fact that you pay your credit card bills on time, or how well you make your bed or how nice your hands are or well you can make macaroni and cheese out of the box, or how organized your closet is, or how good of a parent you are......pick something positive about yourself and LOVE THE SHIT OUT OF IT.
One last thing, I love you, and hope you love you too. Happy Fucking Valentine's Day, Gorgeous! ;)
Thursday, December 13, 2012
I Got 99 Problems......But That Guy I Was Casually Dating Ain't One.
I believe the last time I felt the need to write, I mentioned that I was dating a guy. About that.........
Turns out, he's fucking weird. Maybe that's a little harsh. I hear from him maybe once every 10 days. Sometimes a little sooner. I've given up on him. I have no idea what he wants, and frankly, I don't have time to figure him out (that's actually a lie. I do have the time to figure him out, but guess what's always on t.v.? Law and Order: SVU. And you know I'm not missing that shit to sit around and think about a guy.) After being in touch for three months, we are nowhere near a relationship status change on Facebook.
Truthfully, I have no one to blame but myself. Well, sort of. The timing is just awful. Since November, my schedule has been a little crazypants. He works regular business hours, and there is absolutely nothing regular about my hours. And let's throw in the fact that I also have children. When he has called to get together, I'm working. So then he'll call me late at night to hang out, and that feels like a booty call, so I decline. Other than the timing being crappy, I've made things entirely too easy for him. And by things, I mean myself.
We hung out the night after Thanksgiving. I had a ton of leftovers, he somehow ended up without any leftovers. In a round about way, he asked me to bring some food over, which I did. Why the fuck did I do that? Because I'm too goddamn nice and I'm a people pleaser, that's fucking why.
So I bring the food, he has a foodgasm and then wants to.......you know. And I'm all, "Let's do this." Ugh! So stupid!! Not only have I fed him delicious food, I've also given him.......vagina. He's done absolutely nothing to deserve it. I have not been wooed. I have not been taken to dinner. I have not received flowers or a Build-A-Bear.
Last weekend, I went out with an old friend (bitch got me hammered) and what do you know? J sends me a texty text and it was actually adorable. He asked if I had my Christmas decorations up yet. I do not, I replied. He offered to come over with dinner and help me decorate. So cute, right!? Well, I was at least 3 beers in at that point, and there was really no turning back. My liquid courage kicked in and I flat out asked him what the fuck we were doing. I said, and I quote, "Please, if you're not into me enough to actually date me, then let's just cut the crap and call it a day". He seemed bewildered at my boldness (which most guys are when you call them out on their shit). He asked if we could just hang out that night and talk and even offered to come and get me from the bar. I declined. Mostly because I was with an old friend whom I hadn't seen in years and obviously was not about to ditch her. I also did not leave because I would then again be dropping everything for him and fuck that. We didn't really get to end the conversation because my phone died. So I went home alone.
The next day, I wanted a diner breakfast so badly I was almost willing to go by myself. Before I got in touch with another old friend I wanted to ask to go with me, I thought maybe I should smooth things over with J first. I texted him, and he acted like the previous conversation never happened. I asked if he wanted to go to breakfast with me, he said he was already starting to eat a breakfast he had made himself. Sigh. Back to Square 1. I grabbed breakfast with my buddy instead and had a great time. Haven't talked to J in five days, but I'll bet any money that he'll text me late on Friday night, wanting to hang out. I don't plan on answering.
Turns out, he's fucking weird. Maybe that's a little harsh. I hear from him maybe once every 10 days. Sometimes a little sooner. I've given up on him. I have no idea what he wants, and frankly, I don't have time to figure him out (that's actually a lie. I do have the time to figure him out, but guess what's always on t.v.? Law and Order: SVU. And you know I'm not missing that shit to sit around and think about a guy.) After being in touch for three months, we are nowhere near a relationship status change on Facebook.
Truthfully, I have no one to blame but myself. Well, sort of. The timing is just awful. Since November, my schedule has been a little crazypants. He works regular business hours, and there is absolutely nothing regular about my hours. And let's throw in the fact that I also have children. When he has called to get together, I'm working. So then he'll call me late at night to hang out, and that feels like a booty call, so I decline. Other than the timing being crappy, I've made things entirely too easy for him. And by things, I mean myself.
We hung out the night after Thanksgiving. I had a ton of leftovers, he somehow ended up without any leftovers. In a round about way, he asked me to bring some food over, which I did. Why the fuck did I do that? Because I'm too goddamn nice and I'm a people pleaser, that's fucking why.
So I bring the food, he has a foodgasm and then wants to.......you know. And I'm all, "Let's do this." Ugh! So stupid!! Not only have I fed him delicious food, I've also given him.......vagina. He's done absolutely nothing to deserve it. I have not been wooed. I have not been taken to dinner. I have not received flowers or a Build-A-Bear.
Last weekend, I went out with an old friend (bitch got me hammered) and what do you know? J sends me a texty text and it was actually adorable. He asked if I had my Christmas decorations up yet. I do not, I replied. He offered to come over with dinner and help me decorate. So cute, right!? Well, I was at least 3 beers in at that point, and there was really no turning back. My liquid courage kicked in and I flat out asked him what the fuck we were doing. I said, and I quote, "Please, if you're not into me enough to actually date me, then let's just cut the crap and call it a day". He seemed bewildered at my boldness (which most guys are when you call them out on their shit). He asked if we could just hang out that night and talk and even offered to come and get me from the bar. I declined. Mostly because I was with an old friend whom I hadn't seen in years and obviously was not about to ditch her. I also did not leave because I would then again be dropping everything for him and fuck that. We didn't really get to end the conversation because my phone died. So I went home alone.
The next day, I wanted a diner breakfast so badly I was almost willing to go by myself. Before I got in touch with another old friend I wanted to ask to go with me, I thought maybe I should smooth things over with J first. I texted him, and he acted like the previous conversation never happened. I asked if he wanted to go to breakfast with me, he said he was already starting to eat a breakfast he had made himself. Sigh. Back to Square 1. I grabbed breakfast with my buddy instead and had a great time. Haven't talked to J in five days, but I'll bet any money that he'll text me late on Friday night, wanting to hang out. I don't plan on answering.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
I Hate Horror Movies So Why Did I Think Dating Would Be Any Better?
Here we go again!
Juuuuuust when I'm about to put a pin in dating for a little bit, I receive a message (online dating, it's an adventure everyday) from a guy who writes something more than "Hi" or "Hey Sexy". His profile lacked information and he didn't have a picture, yet I was intrigued. After emailing back and forth, and coming to the realization that he did happen to have a personality and was also pretty cute, we inevitably exchanged phone numbers. After our first four hour long conversation, I was completely stunned. He has the exact same sense of humor as I do. It's almost creepy. We actually talk the same way when we're joking around. I know this sounds kind of nuts, but I am kind of nuts. I'm a complete goofball. Very rarely do I find someone who can appreciate my level of nerdy goofiness and actually gets it. Despite the fact that I am blessed with the ability to hold a conversation with pretty much anyone, I often feel very alone. But before we break out the tissues, let me explain. Personality wise, I've always felt like an outsider and quite different from most people. Yes, obviously, no two people are the same. I seem to have trouble relating with others, especially other women, because I don't take life too seriously and sooooooo many women are wrapped up in some sort of drama or they sweat the small stuff. That's no way to live. I digress.
So, I've never met anyone else with a personality so similar to my own, with the exception of my pirate beeches (my lovely friends, Megan and Bridget). This guy, J, my male counterpart, is also extremely sweet, understanding, and he has shit together. Let's review:
Job? Check. Fourteen years with the same employer.
Not in parents' basement? Check. Homeowner.
Values and morals? Yes. Check.
Funny? Almost peed my pants twice. Check.
Not a serial killer or sociopath? Double check.
Throughout every conversation we've had, we've taken a few moments to reflect on our similarities. It usually goes something like, "Oh my god, who ARE you?! Seriously?? You exist??" For our first date, we went out for drinks. Chemistry. Boom. Crazy mutual attraction. The conversation flowed like a river. And that's all I'm going to say about our first date. My mother reads this.
After we parted, he called me immediately and we talked the entire way back to my house. In the days that followed, we established a routine: Text a little during the day, then talk on the phone for at least an hour before turning in for the night. Why am I analyzing every phone interaction? Because I have no idea what I'm doing. I don't know what the rules of dating are now. I'm in a whole new age bracket, the 30-40 age box. I'm not even sure what feels right at this point. I don't want to scare him by accidentally sending one too many text messages or perhaps calling him at the wrong time. Furthermore, I'm not quite sure what his intentions are with me or if he even knows that yet. How do you know if someone is really into you for who you are or if he just wants to bone you? This is the problem I'm having.
There was a second date, sort of. We just hung out at his house, which I was initially against. I don't want to set the standard of just "hanging out". I really want to DATE. We don't need to have four course meals, but can we go bowling? Or go to Rosie's for a Giants game? (We're both Giants fans......swoon!) Or sit on a park bench and make fun of people that walk by us? Go out for hot dogs? Something? How do I bring this up without sounding high maintenance and like I want him to take me out? Even though I kind of do.... We'll shelve this one for now.
After our second "date", I didn't hear from him as much. I immediately put on the brakes. Ok so maybe he does just want to hook up with me. Well I'm not cool with that so I'm going to cease all communication and wait this out. I was out with my good pal, Jeramy, last Sunday watching the Giants v. Browns game, and naturally, Giants were eating the Browns for dinner. After a beer or five, I decided one little text to J to comment on the game wouldn't do any harm... So I send him a text about the game and he responds. We go back and forth for a little bit, and then I stop hearing from him. So I followed suit and stopped texting him as well. This guy is wicked good at playing hard to get. He could teach a class on this shit.
Four days pass without a peep from J-bird. I throw in the towel and start exploring other options. And by options, I mean other single men. Shockingly, no one as funny or cool as J catches my attention. Suddenly, I get a text from him after 4 days of nada and he's acting like everything's cool as a cucumber. I play along, act super casual, then just as before.........he doesn't respond to my last text. W.T.F. Foiled again.
Ok, now I am REALLY giving up. Forget it. I don't understand. In every serious relationship I've had, I've never questioned the intentions of guys I've previously dated. Consistent calls or texts, endless flattery, dinners, small tokens of affection, flowers, basically lots of wooing. But after having a conversation with my mother, she brought some things to my attention.
I've never dated anyone who was content with himself or felt that level of confidence that only comes with age and after a few accomplishments. I seemed to only date guys with bad habits. Illegal bad habits. And also guys with no goals, no credit, and no high school diploma. (No judgies. I didn't learn my lesson until I turned 30.) Maybe my exes felt they had to work twice as hard to keep me around because they knew I was......perhaps, a little out of their league? The problem is, I got used to someone worshiping the ground I walk on. I don't mean that I received Tiffany necklaces for Christmas or flowers every day. But, generally speaking of course, I was treated like a princess in the early stages of every relationship and I ate it up. Treated like a princess, until everything spiraled downward and fell apart into a great big giant mess.
So J calls me today. When I see his name show up on my caller ID, I don't even know what I'm going to say. A few things cross my mind, such as, "What is your fucking deal?" and "Ohhh so nice to hear from you. I thought you died." Instead, I begin with a "hello", since this is America and that's typically how we answer the phone. We end up talking for an hour about everything under the sun, yet again. I did (in a joking manner) bring up the time lapse since the last time we spoke, and his response was "I don't recall hearing from you either...." Then I realized, this guy doesn't play games. I don't have to wait to contact him. I can do whatever I'm in the mood for, just as long as I'm not in the mood to look like a needy psychopath. He's secure and content with himself. He doesn't need to have someone in his life, he wants to have someone in his life. And he's been single for 4 years, waiting to find someone worthwhile. He's smarter than a lot of people are these days. He doesn't rush into things only to regret them later, which is how I've lived my life.
What now?
Fun. Just pure, unbridled fun. No labels, no expectations, no pressure. Whatever the hell happens....happens. (Wish me luck. I really like this guy) :)
Juuuuuust when I'm about to put a pin in dating for a little bit, I receive a message (online dating, it's an adventure everyday) from a guy who writes something more than "Hi" or "Hey Sexy". His profile lacked information and he didn't have a picture, yet I was intrigued. After emailing back and forth, and coming to the realization that he did happen to have a personality and was also pretty cute, we inevitably exchanged phone numbers. After our first four hour long conversation, I was completely stunned. He has the exact same sense of humor as I do. It's almost creepy. We actually talk the same way when we're joking around. I know this sounds kind of nuts, but I am kind of nuts. I'm a complete goofball. Very rarely do I find someone who can appreciate my level of nerdy goofiness and actually gets it. Despite the fact that I am blessed with the ability to hold a conversation with pretty much anyone, I often feel very alone. But before we break out the tissues, let me explain. Personality wise, I've always felt like an outsider and quite different from most people. Yes, obviously, no two people are the same. I seem to have trouble relating with others, especially other women, because I don't take life too seriously and sooooooo many women are wrapped up in some sort of drama or they sweat the small stuff. That's no way to live. I digress.
So, I've never met anyone else with a personality so similar to my own, with the exception of my pirate beeches (my lovely friends, Megan and Bridget). This guy, J, my male counterpart, is also extremely sweet, understanding, and he has shit together. Let's review:
Job? Check. Fourteen years with the same employer.
Not in parents' basement? Check. Homeowner.
Values and morals? Yes. Check.
Funny? Almost peed my pants twice. Check.
Not a serial killer or sociopath? Double check.
Throughout every conversation we've had, we've taken a few moments to reflect on our similarities. It usually goes something like, "Oh my god, who ARE you?! Seriously?? You exist??" For our first date, we went out for drinks. Chemistry. Boom. Crazy mutual attraction. The conversation flowed like a river. And that's all I'm going to say about our first date. My mother reads this.
After we parted, he called me immediately and we talked the entire way back to my house. In the days that followed, we established a routine: Text a little during the day, then talk on the phone for at least an hour before turning in for the night. Why am I analyzing every phone interaction? Because I have no idea what I'm doing. I don't know what the rules of dating are now. I'm in a whole new age bracket, the 30-40 age box. I'm not even sure what feels right at this point. I don't want to scare him by accidentally sending one too many text messages or perhaps calling him at the wrong time. Furthermore, I'm not quite sure what his intentions are with me or if he even knows that yet. How do you know if someone is really into you for who you are or if he just wants to bone you? This is the problem I'm having.
There was a second date, sort of. We just hung out at his house, which I was initially against. I don't want to set the standard of just "hanging out". I really want to DATE. We don't need to have four course meals, but can we go bowling? Or go to Rosie's for a Giants game? (We're both Giants fans......swoon!) Or sit on a park bench and make fun of people that walk by us? Go out for hot dogs? Something? How do I bring this up without sounding high maintenance and like I want him to take me out? Even though I kind of do.... We'll shelve this one for now.
After our second "date", I didn't hear from him as much. I immediately put on the brakes. Ok so maybe he does just want to hook up with me. Well I'm not cool with that so I'm going to cease all communication and wait this out. I was out with my good pal, Jeramy, last Sunday watching the Giants v. Browns game, and naturally, Giants were eating the Browns for dinner. After a beer or five, I decided one little text to J to comment on the game wouldn't do any harm... So I send him a text about the game and he responds. We go back and forth for a little bit, and then I stop hearing from him. So I followed suit and stopped texting him as well. This guy is wicked good at playing hard to get. He could teach a class on this shit.
Four days pass without a peep from J-bird. I throw in the towel and start exploring other options. And by options, I mean other single men. Shockingly, no one as funny or cool as J catches my attention. Suddenly, I get a text from him after 4 days of nada and he's acting like everything's cool as a cucumber. I play along, act super casual, then just as before.........he doesn't respond to my last text. W.T.F. Foiled again.
Ok, now I am REALLY giving up. Forget it. I don't understand. In every serious relationship I've had, I've never questioned the intentions of guys I've previously dated. Consistent calls or texts, endless flattery, dinners, small tokens of affection, flowers, basically lots of wooing. But after having a conversation with my mother, she brought some things to my attention.
I've never dated anyone who was content with himself or felt that level of confidence that only comes with age and after a few accomplishments. I seemed to only date guys with bad habits. Illegal bad habits. And also guys with no goals, no credit, and no high school diploma. (No judgies. I didn't learn my lesson until I turned 30.) Maybe my exes felt they had to work twice as hard to keep me around because they knew I was......perhaps, a little out of their league? The problem is, I got used to someone worshiping the ground I walk on. I don't mean that I received Tiffany necklaces for Christmas or flowers every day. But, generally speaking of course, I was treated like a princess in the early stages of every relationship and I ate it up. Treated like a princess, until everything spiraled downward and fell apart into a great big giant mess.
So J calls me today. When I see his name show up on my caller ID, I don't even know what I'm going to say. A few things cross my mind, such as, "What is your fucking deal?" and "Ohhh so nice to hear from you. I thought you died." Instead, I begin with a "hello", since this is America and that's typically how we answer the phone. We end up talking for an hour about everything under the sun, yet again. I did (in a joking manner) bring up the time lapse since the last time we spoke, and his response was "I don't recall hearing from you either...." Then I realized, this guy doesn't play games. I don't have to wait to contact him. I can do whatever I'm in the mood for, just as long as I'm not in the mood to look like a needy psychopath. He's secure and content with himself. He doesn't need to have someone in his life, he wants to have someone in his life. And he's been single for 4 years, waiting to find someone worthwhile. He's smarter than a lot of people are these days. He doesn't rush into things only to regret them later, which is how I've lived my life.
What now?
Fun. Just pure, unbridled fun. No labels, no expectations, no pressure. Whatever the hell happens....happens. (Wish me luck. I really like this guy) :)
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Would I Like to Check Any Bags? Um... What is the Fee for Four Years Worth?
Ok so I have a job. It's not the most challenging or stimulating or well paying job, but I get a paycheck every 2 weeks with my name on it and I can finally tell Sprint that I'll pay my bill by the 20th and actually mean it. Now that I have ungracefully leaped over that hurdle, I feel a little bit better about the mysterious, mystical future.
Why not try dating again? Because I so miss that inner turmoil that comes with trusting someone again. No really, it's my favorite.
Apparently while I was married, this online dating revolution occurred. Everyone's doing it like the Macarena. Or marijuana.... Anyways, it's become a quite popular way of meeting people. And since I really have no other way to meet people, why not?
Oh, I will tell you why not.
This is where the freaks of the world unite. These are my unofficial statistics about online dating:
One out of 10 men is a sexual predator of some sort.
One out of five men is a douchebag.
One out of three looks like a sewer creature.
One out of two wants to meet you for coffee in about 15 minutes. (Can we start with our names first?)
What does this leave me with? One guy. I know that probably doesn't work out mathematically but I had a permanent D in Math, so please lower your expectations now. Only ONE guy is none of the above, a hard worker, a homeowner, a football lover, well adjusted, super nice, mature, thinks I'm hilarious, and has beautiful eyes..............
A few dates later, great conversations that flowed like water, same values, similar interests, and here I am. A giddy, scared, happy mess. I feel like I've had a spring in my step all week. As excited as I've been, I'm actually terrified. I had not expected to like someone as much as I do right now. I was hoping to only kind of like him, and I definitely did not expect to want to introduce him to 488 of my closest friends and my family.
We've talked about our ghosts of relationships' past and what we've been through. He has an idea about my trust issues. I explained that I need lots of reassurance that he's into me in the beginning. I need to know if I'm wasting my time or if he's worth the investment of my trust. I miss the security that I had with my ex. Granted, it was a false sense of security, but when I was naive about it, it was great. The feeling of just knowing for certain that whomever you're with isn't going anywhere is priceless. Ignorance is bliss.
Last night, I confessed to this guy that I'm excited/nervous about dating again. His response was, "Try not to think about your past, let's focus on the future >smiley face<". To which I responded, "And that was exactly what I needed to hear >big smiley face<". But now it's 8:24pm. We had plans to hang out for a little bit tonight, and I haven't heard from him since early afternoon. I texted once, called once.....no response. I can't help but presume the worst, which is, he doesn't want to deal with my baggage and he wanted to spare my feelings by applying a thick layer of liquid sugar over everything. Or he fell asleep. Or ninjas attacked his house. Or his phone has been dead for hours and monkeys in tuxedos stole his charger. Or maybe he's "just not that into me".
Whatever the case may be, I'm not going to allow myself to dwell on whether he's simply ignoring me or if maybe he really did get attacked by ninjas...... I'm going to go back to my old methods of self-preservation that I practiced before I got married. They include:
Delete all text messages from dating offender.
Delete dating offender's phone number from your phone.
Try to completely forget his name. Or at least his last name.
Watch The Notebook, and cry it out.
Although deletion of someone's virtual existence may seem a bit extreme, it's better than leaving the temptation to call or text again wide open and risk looking like a Stage 5 clinger. If he does happen to call me with a lame excuse, or any excuse for that matter, as to why he ditched me, I can then objectively decide if continuing to date him is worthwhile. At least 3 times, he said, "I can't believe you're single! HOW are you single??" To which I replied, "Because I've been waiting for someone awesome." The awesome guys are not punctual. They show up when you least expect them to. Usually, they're late. You have to meet a lot of less than awesome people to figure out what's best for you. And, in my case, he needs to be on fucking time and not keep me waiting all night. Are you sure you want to delete this contact? Yup.
Why not try dating again? Because I so miss that inner turmoil that comes with trusting someone again. No really, it's my favorite.
Apparently while I was married, this online dating revolution occurred. Everyone's doing it like the Macarena. Or marijuana.... Anyways, it's become a quite popular way of meeting people. And since I really have no other way to meet people, why not?
Oh, I will tell you why not.
This is where the freaks of the world unite. These are my unofficial statistics about online dating:
One out of 10 men is a sexual predator of some sort.
One out of five men is a douchebag.
One out of three looks like a sewer creature.
One out of two wants to meet you for coffee in about 15 minutes. (Can we start with our names first?)
What does this leave me with? One guy. I know that probably doesn't work out mathematically but I had a permanent D in Math, so please lower your expectations now. Only ONE guy is none of the above, a hard worker, a homeowner, a football lover, well adjusted, super nice, mature, thinks I'm hilarious, and has beautiful eyes..............
A few dates later, great conversations that flowed like water, same values, similar interests, and here I am. A giddy, scared, happy mess. I feel like I've had a spring in my step all week. As excited as I've been, I'm actually terrified. I had not expected to like someone as much as I do right now. I was hoping to only kind of like him, and I definitely did not expect to want to introduce him to 488 of my closest friends and my family.
We've talked about our ghosts of relationships' past and what we've been through. He has an idea about my trust issues. I explained that I need lots of reassurance that he's into me in the beginning. I need to know if I'm wasting my time or if he's worth the investment of my trust. I miss the security that I had with my ex. Granted, it was a false sense of security, but when I was naive about it, it was great. The feeling of just knowing for certain that whomever you're with isn't going anywhere is priceless. Ignorance is bliss.
Last night, I confessed to this guy that I'm excited/nervous about dating again. His response was, "Try not to think about your past, let's focus on the future >smiley face<". To which I responded, "And that was exactly what I needed to hear >big smiley face<". But now it's 8:24pm. We had plans to hang out for a little bit tonight, and I haven't heard from him since early afternoon. I texted once, called once.....no response. I can't help but presume the worst, which is, he doesn't want to deal with my baggage and he wanted to spare my feelings by applying a thick layer of liquid sugar over everything. Or he fell asleep. Or ninjas attacked his house. Or his phone has been dead for hours and monkeys in tuxedos stole his charger. Or maybe he's "just not that into me".
Whatever the case may be, I'm not going to allow myself to dwell on whether he's simply ignoring me or if maybe he really did get attacked by ninjas...... I'm going to go back to my old methods of self-preservation that I practiced before I got married. They include:
Delete all text messages from dating offender.
Delete dating offender's phone number from your phone.
Try to completely forget his name. Or at least his last name.
Watch The Notebook, and cry it out.
Although deletion of someone's virtual existence may seem a bit extreme, it's better than leaving the temptation to call or text again wide open and risk looking like a Stage 5 clinger. If he does happen to call me with a lame excuse, or any excuse for that matter, as to why he ditched me, I can then objectively decide if continuing to date him is worthwhile. At least 3 times, he said, "I can't believe you're single! HOW are you single??" To which I replied, "Because I've been waiting for someone awesome." The awesome guys are not punctual. They show up when you least expect them to. Usually, they're late. You have to meet a lot of less than awesome people to figure out what's best for you. And, in my case, he needs to be on fucking time and not keep me waiting all night. Are you sure you want to delete this contact? Yup.
Monday, August 13, 2012
Love Is A Many Splendid Clusterfuck of Emotions
It's 1 something am. Can't sleep again. This has become routine over the last month or so. I'm flipping through 200 channels of nothing until I land on Walk The Line. If you've never seen the movie, you should. First of all, it's based on a real, live love story between Johnny Cash and June Carter that endured so much difficulty, it's incredible that they remained married until their deaths. The scene I happened upon was Thanksgiving dinner at Johnny's new house. June, her children, her parents, Cash's children, and his parents were all together for the first time. Cash's father was a real asshole and never showed him any love whatsoever during his childhood. As a result of constant abuse and some bad decisions, Cash battled with an addiction to drugs and alcohol on and off for years as an adult. During dinner, some words were exchanged between Cash and his father. June finally understands the deep-seated depression and guilt Cash has suffered from his whole life and the reason behind his drug abuse. She then puts her life on hold to stay by his side and take care of him as he detoxes from his addictions. In my opinion, it's the best part of the entire movie. That's love. True, honest to goodness love.
So naturally, I start bawling like an infant.
The day my ex and I went to divorce court, we decided to get back together. You read that correctly. Yes, we're batshit crazy. What were we thinking, blah blah blah. Well, for the record, we weren't. We finally had the conversation that I had been waiting for us to have for a long time. The conversation that would shed some light on what really went wrong in our marriage. The VH1 Behind The Music, E! True Hollywood Story account of what happened between us. The acceptance of each other's faults, the apologies for the mistakes we made, and the realization that deep down, there may have still been some love left in our hearts. We sat on a bench in the middle of a bustling downtown square, held each other, and cried it out. He smoothed my hair, kissed my cheek, and I became putty in his hands all over again. All kinds of warning signs, red flags, and foghorns were trying to keep me from making yet another stupid mistake, but I just kept driving down this crazy, winding road of bliss and confusion. Before we parted that day, we concluded that we should try to actually date and get to know each other all over again, something that we should have done 4 years ago. For the two months that followed, there were lunches and coffee dates, flirting and smiling and jellowy leg feelings. That fiery passion, that electricity we had felt from the moment we were in the same room with each other, remained. He seemed so much more mature, and I really felt as though he and I had both come out of our divorce as better people. Everything was wonderful for about 2 and 1/2 months (standard honeymoon phase time frame). A few things happened that brought me back to reality. It became apparent to me that he hadn't changed much at all in certain ways. He is who he is, and no amount of time will change him into the person I want him to be. I subconsciously became withdrawn, I communicated with him less, lost that burning desire to be next to him, but I was too much of a coward and harbored too much guilt about those feelings to come right out and tell him what was on my mind. I also had, and still do have, so much I need to take care of on my own, just little things like getting a job and trying to plan out the rest of my life.
His work schedule became quite hectic around the same time I began to change my mind about our future together. Communication diminished even more, and it got to a point where we didn't talk at all for a week. No plans were made to spend time together as a family or even with just him and the kids. I finally broke the silence and got the impression he had moved on from me. Not necessarily with another woman, but just moved on from our relationship without there being a discussion about it. In a way, I suppose I had, too. Now we're back to where we were 6 months ago: Him spending weekends with one or both kids and me trying to get over this relationship again. Even though I'm certain we're not right for each other, there's still a lingering ache that I don't know how to subdue. The way things have ended so suddenly, twice now, keeps messing with my head. Have we just been in lust this whole time? I was so sure that I truly loved him and that the feeling was basically mutual. Is this how it happens? Does love begin and end like a blow to the head? It's hard for me to come to terms with the notion that he never really loved me at all, that maybe he just loved my sense of humor or my other quirky personality traits, and didn't love all of who I am. When we were married and together, I know with all of my heart that I loved him for who he was. This time around, I think I got caught up in a whirlwind of lust and a selfish need to feel like I meant something to someone again. It's not my place to say or even hypothesize what he was thinking when he asked if I wanted to go for a walk with him the day we left divorce court. All I know is, we've never fought to be with each other. When one of us becomes distant, the other doesn't fight to become closer. There's just this mutual acceptance of the situation.
I take full responsibility for my mistakes, but this is how I learn: Royally fucking something up, feeling devastated, hating myself, watching old movies, and eating ice cream. Then I'm all better a few days later. One day, hopefully sooner than later, I'll break the self-pity cycle. In the meantime, I have officially sworn off dating until I totally have a grip on what I'm doing with the rest of my life. When I say dating, I mean all aspects of dating. Nothing physical or emotional or a combination of both. No more self destructive behavior, no more crying over something that was obviously never meant to be in the first place, no more ice cre-.........well, let's not push it. After a full year of this relationship being in an odd form of limbo, it's over for good. Seriously. I'm not kidding. Never again. Fat lady sang, Randy Jackson said "Hey yo, that was dope, dog!" The end. Fin.
Now, where did I leave my confidence..... I think it's somewhere near the happiness, but I can't find that either. Then again, it's always in the last place you looked.
"Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to
replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It
dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of withering, of
tarnishing." Anais Nin
So naturally, I start bawling like an infant.
The day my ex and I went to divorce court, we decided to get back together. You read that correctly. Yes, we're batshit crazy. What were we thinking, blah blah blah. Well, for the record, we weren't. We finally had the conversation that I had been waiting for us to have for a long time. The conversation that would shed some light on what really went wrong in our marriage. The VH1 Behind The Music, E! True Hollywood Story account of what happened between us. The acceptance of each other's faults, the apologies for the mistakes we made, and the realization that deep down, there may have still been some love left in our hearts. We sat on a bench in the middle of a bustling downtown square, held each other, and cried it out. He smoothed my hair, kissed my cheek, and I became putty in his hands all over again. All kinds of warning signs, red flags, and foghorns were trying to keep me from making yet another stupid mistake, but I just kept driving down this crazy, winding road of bliss and confusion. Before we parted that day, we concluded that we should try to actually date and get to know each other all over again, something that we should have done 4 years ago. For the two months that followed, there were lunches and coffee dates, flirting and smiling and jellowy leg feelings. That fiery passion, that electricity we had felt from the moment we were in the same room with each other, remained. He seemed so much more mature, and I really felt as though he and I had both come out of our divorce as better people. Everything was wonderful for about 2 and 1/2 months (standard honeymoon phase time frame). A few things happened that brought me back to reality. It became apparent to me that he hadn't changed much at all in certain ways. He is who he is, and no amount of time will change him into the person I want him to be. I subconsciously became withdrawn, I communicated with him less, lost that burning desire to be next to him, but I was too much of a coward and harbored too much guilt about those feelings to come right out and tell him what was on my mind. I also had, and still do have, so much I need to take care of on my own, just little things like getting a job and trying to plan out the rest of my life.
His work schedule became quite hectic around the same time I began to change my mind about our future together. Communication diminished even more, and it got to a point where we didn't talk at all for a week. No plans were made to spend time together as a family or even with just him and the kids. I finally broke the silence and got the impression he had moved on from me. Not necessarily with another woman, but just moved on from our relationship without there being a discussion about it. In a way, I suppose I had, too. Now we're back to where we were 6 months ago: Him spending weekends with one or both kids and me trying to get over this relationship again. Even though I'm certain we're not right for each other, there's still a lingering ache that I don't know how to subdue. The way things have ended so suddenly, twice now, keeps messing with my head. Have we just been in lust this whole time? I was so sure that I truly loved him and that the feeling was basically mutual. Is this how it happens? Does love begin and end like a blow to the head? It's hard for me to come to terms with the notion that he never really loved me at all, that maybe he just loved my sense of humor or my other quirky personality traits, and didn't love all of who I am. When we were married and together, I know with all of my heart that I loved him for who he was. This time around, I think I got caught up in a whirlwind of lust and a selfish need to feel like I meant something to someone again. It's not my place to say or even hypothesize what he was thinking when he asked if I wanted to go for a walk with him the day we left divorce court. All I know is, we've never fought to be with each other. When one of us becomes distant, the other doesn't fight to become closer. There's just this mutual acceptance of the situation.
I take full responsibility for my mistakes, but this is how I learn: Royally fucking something up, feeling devastated, hating myself, watching old movies, and eating ice cream. Then I'm all better a few days later. One day, hopefully sooner than later, I'll break the self-pity cycle. In the meantime, I have officially sworn off dating until I totally have a grip on what I'm doing with the rest of my life. When I say dating, I mean all aspects of dating. Nothing physical or emotional or a combination of both. No more self destructive behavior, no more crying over something that was obviously never meant to be in the first place, no more ice cre-.........well, let's not push it. After a full year of this relationship being in an odd form of limbo, it's over for good. Seriously. I'm not kidding. Never again. Fat lady sang, Randy Jackson said "Hey yo, that was dope, dog!" The end. Fin.
Now, where did I leave my confidence..... I think it's somewhere near the happiness, but I can't find that either. Then again, it's always in the last place you looked.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Reminder: You're Not Out of the Woods Just Yet
It's been awhile since I've written, mostly due to not having much inspiration. Lots of stuff has happened since....January....but many of the "incidents" have been isolated. More at 11.
As most of us know, there are several stages of grief in reference to death of a loved one. Maybe I'm just a naturally born rebel, but I didn't necessarily flow through tiered "stages" (I LOVE quotation marks. I also may have ADD. More at 11.). I was just sad. Maybe a little angry, but mostly sad. I miss him so much it hurts. However, he was fighting a war against his own body which there was no chance of winning. I've accepted that he's finally at peace and I know he's always with me.
His presence is justified when super coincidental things happen. Like a few weeks ago, I was thinking about my dad while I was driving and I started to tear up a little bit. I had the radio on, and the timeless classic, "E.I." by Nelly started playing. Let me tell you a little something about Freddy Crittela: He thought that rapping was hilarious. As soon as he learned like 3 lines to any rap song, he would repeat them over and over, while bopping his head to a rhythm not found in any musical selection. This song in particular, was one of his favorites. His "go to" line was, "I'm a sucker for corn rows and manicured toes. Fendi capri pants and Parasucos (<---my dad would actually say, "parachute clothes". Wtf are parachute clothes??)". Then he would "dance" until the chorus. "Andele, andele, mami. E I E I, uh ohhhhhhhh. What's poppin' tonight?". He would have this huge, proud grin on his face like, "Yeah, that's right. I can relate to black people." When he would perform this masterpiece while working in the kitchen, the black guys hew worked with would (thankfully) crack up. Anyway, when the song came on that day in the car, I immediately started laughing. So then I had the crying/laughing look on my face which I'm sure the other people at the stop light thought was incredibly attractive.
I'm totally sidetracking from what I wanted to write about originally. This is MY blog though, right? I can do what I want. I'll make this flow....somehow.
One of the coolest (and most painful) things about life is that there's always something there to remind us.
It's ok, I just did the "Ba da da da da" sound in my head, too.
In terms of broken relationships, little reminders of the past pop up unexpectedly at any given time and can completely throw us out of whack.
What the fuck, you know here I am, doing ok, got my career a flowin', kids are good, family's good, then POW!!!! And all I did was open my internet browser. Yahoo! is my homepage, although it very well could be replaced soon, and I occasionally peruse through some of the featured articles, which are usually ridiculous. On this particular day, I came across one article entitled, "When It's Just Another Fight, and When It's Over", taken from The Wall Street Journal. I thought to myself, "That's a respectable periodical. Let's see if I really knew when my marriage was over. Haha."
Well a few minutes later, there was no more "haha". I was full out sobbing. If you'd like to read it, here's the link: http://finance.yahoo.com/news/just-another-fight-over-040100241.html
The gist of the article is basically asking the reader to seriously consider if divorce is really the only option. It encourages trying counseling first and takes you along the journey of one couple who divorced suddenly but later on in life ended up working together and still do to this day. They even wrote a book together.
I can't pinpoint what the trigger was that made me upset. Maybe we should have done something else? Should we have tried counseling? Would we both have showed up to go to counseling? I went from feeling confident and happy to feeling like I didn't have the answers anymore. I feel like I still don't have closure on exactly why he strayed, or why he begged to stay when I told him to leave or how we went from being totally crazy about each other to sleeping in separate places over the course of three years.
Then, every little thing reminded me of him and our relationship. In one day, no joke, I heard the song we walked down the aisle to (I'm Yours by Jason Mraz), the song we had our first dance to (Wild Horses by The Rolling Stones) and Story of My Life by Social Distortion, a song from the Social D playlist we listened to while we cleaned our old apartment. Three very different songs, all heard in various places. Grocery store, Michael's, and satellite radio, to be specific. It doesn't stop with just music either. This is going to sound so ridick and it's a total stretch, but even when I see lobsters at the grocery store, I think of my 26th birthday, when he made me this amazing seafood dinner with all my favorite delicious undersea creatures.
He introduced me to things I otherwise would not have cared about. Irish music, for example, I probably never would have given a chance, but he had me listening to The Pogues, Flogging Molly and The Dropkick Murphys, all of whom I now love. Sriracha, the greatest hot sauce EVER, would not be a permanent staple in my fridge had he never put it on my eggs. I miss the look on his face when I would cook something that came out really well. I miss our chemistry. I miss the way we laughed together. I miss the way he would look at me before he kissed me.
Does it ever get any easier? Or maybe it was meant to be all along and life just got in the way? There's no instruction manual to refer to, so how the hell are we supposed to know what we're doing?
All of life's questions are answered in songs from the 80's.
As most of us know, there are several stages of grief in reference to death of a loved one. Maybe I'm just a naturally born rebel, but I didn't necessarily flow through tiered "stages" (I LOVE quotation marks. I also may have ADD. More at 11.). I was just sad. Maybe a little angry, but mostly sad. I miss him so much it hurts. However, he was fighting a war against his own body which there was no chance of winning. I've accepted that he's finally at peace and I know he's always with me.
His presence is justified when super coincidental things happen. Like a few weeks ago, I was thinking about my dad while I was driving and I started to tear up a little bit. I had the radio on, and the timeless classic, "E.I." by Nelly started playing. Let me tell you a little something about Freddy Crittela: He thought that rapping was hilarious. As soon as he learned like 3 lines to any rap song, he would repeat them over and over, while bopping his head to a rhythm not found in any musical selection. This song in particular, was one of his favorites. His "go to" line was, "I'm a sucker for corn rows and manicured toes. Fendi capri pants and Parasucos (<---my dad would actually say, "parachute clothes". Wtf are parachute clothes??)". Then he would "dance" until the chorus. "Andele, andele, mami. E I E I, uh ohhhhhhhh. What's poppin' tonight?". He would have this huge, proud grin on his face like, "Yeah, that's right. I can relate to black people." When he would perform this masterpiece while working in the kitchen, the black guys hew worked with would (thankfully) crack up. Anyway, when the song came on that day in the car, I immediately started laughing. So then I had the crying/laughing look on my face which I'm sure the other people at the stop light thought was incredibly attractive.
I'm totally sidetracking from what I wanted to write about originally. This is MY blog though, right? I can do what I want. I'll make this flow....somehow.
One of the coolest (and most painful) things about life is that there's always something there to remind us.
It's ok, I just did the "Ba da da da da" sound in my head, too.
In terms of broken relationships, little reminders of the past pop up unexpectedly at any given time and can completely throw us out of whack.
What the fuck, you know here I am, doing ok, got my career a flowin', kids are good, family's good, then POW!!!! And all I did was open my internet browser. Yahoo! is my homepage, although it very well could be replaced soon, and I occasionally peruse through some of the featured articles, which are usually ridiculous. On this particular day, I came across one article entitled, "When It's Just Another Fight, and When It's Over", taken from The Wall Street Journal. I thought to myself, "That's a respectable periodical. Let's see if I really knew when my marriage was over. Haha."
Well a few minutes later, there was no more "haha". I was full out sobbing. If you'd like to read it, here's the link: http://finance.yahoo.com/news/just-another-fight-over-040100241.html
The gist of the article is basically asking the reader to seriously consider if divorce is really the only option. It encourages trying counseling first and takes you along the journey of one couple who divorced suddenly but later on in life ended up working together and still do to this day. They even wrote a book together.
I can't pinpoint what the trigger was that made me upset. Maybe we should have done something else? Should we have tried counseling? Would we both have showed up to go to counseling? I went from feeling confident and happy to feeling like I didn't have the answers anymore. I feel like I still don't have closure on exactly why he strayed, or why he begged to stay when I told him to leave or how we went from being totally crazy about each other to sleeping in separate places over the course of three years.
Then, every little thing reminded me of him and our relationship. In one day, no joke, I heard the song we walked down the aisle to (I'm Yours by Jason Mraz), the song we had our first dance to (Wild Horses by The Rolling Stones) and Story of My Life by Social Distortion, a song from the Social D playlist we listened to while we cleaned our old apartment. Three very different songs, all heard in various places. Grocery store, Michael's, and satellite radio, to be specific. It doesn't stop with just music either. This is going to sound so ridick and it's a total stretch, but even when I see lobsters at the grocery store, I think of my 26th birthday, when he made me this amazing seafood dinner with all my favorite delicious undersea creatures.
He introduced me to things I otherwise would not have cared about. Irish music, for example, I probably never would have given a chance, but he had me listening to The Pogues, Flogging Molly and The Dropkick Murphys, all of whom I now love. Sriracha, the greatest hot sauce EVER, would not be a permanent staple in my fridge had he never put it on my eggs. I miss the look on his face when I would cook something that came out really well. I miss our chemistry. I miss the way we laughed together. I miss the way he would look at me before he kissed me.
Does it ever get any easier? Or maybe it was meant to be all along and life just got in the way? There's no instruction manual to refer to, so how the hell are we supposed to know what we're doing?
All of life's questions are answered in songs from the 80's.
Dating: It's For The Birds
*I wrote this a few months ago, but never published it. Why do I do the things that I do? Enjoy!*
Dating is a nightmare. Seriously. Fuck. That. Shit. I don't know what I was thinking by even trying to date. So I had a date with this guy whom I did not know personally, but we had several mutual friends (Thank you, Facebook). I couldn't get a baby-sitter to save my life when we were both free, so he suggested we make some dinner at my house together and watch a movie after. Sounds cute, right?
WRONG.
Dinner was ok except that it involved some very spicy jalapenos which made him sweat profusely and gave me some kickin' heartburn. Then there was the conversation. All about him, him, him, and how much he knew about, um, everything, and how little I knew. Ooooooook. So I try to chalk that up to him being a little nervous and maybe the sweat was distracting him from having a normal conversation. Who knows.
Then there was the movie.
It was a John Cusack movie.....he plays an air traffic controller......Billy Bob Thornton and Angelina are in it too....... point is, I'd never seen it.
He talked through.....
The. Entire. Movie.
If you are one of these people, please excuse my bluntness when I say, it's fucking annoying. STOP IT.
Anyway, at one point I started keeping track: On an average of about every 8 seconds, he opened his mouth. And it wasn't like he was saying something intelligent. He was basically providing his own commentary on the movie itself. He was his own Special Feature!!
I thought for a sec what my Dad would have done. My dad would have pressed the stop button on the dvd player, looked him square in the eye and said something like, "That movie was being so rude. Please continue the play by plays. Your perspective is so much more interesting."
Somehow I made it through the movie without punching him in the face. I was totally ready for him to get off my couch, but then he decided to talk at me for another hour or so. When he was about to leave, he tried to give me the most awkward kiss in awkward kiss history. It was at that moment when I thought about giving up men for good.
After he left, I gave myself a pep talk. Ok, so maaaaaaaybe he was just really nervous and he thought he had to talk himself up a lot because he was intimidated by me? Aw what the hell? I'll give him a second chance. It can only get better from here, right?
Wrong again!!!
Bad Date: Take Two:
I whip up a little snacky snack and he brings over another movie, one that I have seen before but not in a long time. Total repeat of Bad Date One. Talking throughout the movie, overstays his welcome, but this time, I realize that he's not just nervous or intimidated by me. He's a damn know-it-all. Here's how I figured it out:
After the movie, he again decides to talk AT me for about an hour. We somehow get on the subject of skin, which is kinda my thing. I know I'm not a dermatologist or even a nurse, but I didn't go to school for 6 months for nothing. He starts in on sunscreen, which I'm a little anal retentive about wearing. He tells me that sunscreen is pointless, that it does absolutely nothing, and is basically, a big conspiracy.
Uh.....exsqueeze me? Bacon powder?
So I, very calmly, begin to explain what the ingredients in sunscreen do to protect the skin and I'm completely certain that years upon years of research prove otherwise.
Well, clearly, I know absolutely nothing because he knows everything and fuck this!!
No awkward kiss this time. I created an imaginary forcefield around myself that repelled arrogant pricks. Later on, I told him that I reeeeaaaaaalllllllly just wasn't ready for a commitment yet. Or maybe ever.
Bad dates are so disappointing. I went in to them with all these expectations and positivity and 9/10 times, I realized that I am soooooo normal compared to some of the freaks that we share a community with.
Good luck, Singles. You'll need it.
Dating is a nightmare. Seriously. Fuck. That. Shit. I don't know what I was thinking by even trying to date. So I had a date with this guy whom I did not know personally, but we had several mutual friends (Thank you, Facebook). I couldn't get a baby-sitter to save my life when we were both free, so he suggested we make some dinner at my house together and watch a movie after. Sounds cute, right?
WRONG.
Dinner was ok except that it involved some very spicy jalapenos which made him sweat profusely and gave me some kickin' heartburn. Then there was the conversation. All about him, him, him, and how much he knew about, um, everything, and how little I knew. Ooooooook. So I try to chalk that up to him being a little nervous and maybe the sweat was distracting him from having a normal conversation. Who knows.
Then there was the movie.
It was a John Cusack movie.....he plays an air traffic controller......Billy Bob Thornton and Angelina are in it too....... point is, I'd never seen it.
He talked through.....
The. Entire. Movie.
If you are one of these people, please excuse my bluntness when I say, it's fucking annoying. STOP IT.
Anyway, at one point I started keeping track: On an average of about every 8 seconds, he opened his mouth. And it wasn't like he was saying something intelligent. He was basically providing his own commentary on the movie itself. He was his own Special Feature!!
I thought for a sec what my Dad would have done. My dad would have pressed the stop button on the dvd player, looked him square in the eye and said something like, "That movie was being so rude. Please continue the play by plays. Your perspective is so much more interesting."
Somehow I made it through the movie without punching him in the face. I was totally ready for him to get off my couch, but then he decided to talk at me for another hour or so. When he was about to leave, he tried to give me the most awkward kiss in awkward kiss history. It was at that moment when I thought about giving up men for good.
After he left, I gave myself a pep talk. Ok, so maaaaaaaybe he was just really nervous and he thought he had to talk himself up a lot because he was intimidated by me? Aw what the hell? I'll give him a second chance. It can only get better from here, right?
Wrong again!!!
Bad Date: Take Two:
I whip up a little snacky snack and he brings over another movie, one that I have seen before but not in a long time. Total repeat of Bad Date One. Talking throughout the movie, overstays his welcome, but this time, I realize that he's not just nervous or intimidated by me. He's a damn know-it-all. Here's how I figured it out:
After the movie, he again decides to talk AT me for about an hour. We somehow get on the subject of skin, which is kinda my thing. I know I'm not a dermatologist or even a nurse, but I didn't go to school for 6 months for nothing. He starts in on sunscreen, which I'm a little anal retentive about wearing. He tells me that sunscreen is pointless, that it does absolutely nothing, and is basically, a big conspiracy.
Uh.....exsqueeze me? Bacon powder?
So I, very calmly, begin to explain what the ingredients in sunscreen do to protect the skin and I'm completely certain that years upon years of research prove otherwise.
Well, clearly, I know absolutely nothing because he knows everything and fuck this!!
No awkward kiss this time. I created an imaginary forcefield around myself that repelled arrogant pricks. Later on, I told him that I reeeeaaaaaalllllllly just wasn't ready for a commitment yet. Or maybe ever.
Bad dates are so disappointing. I went in to them with all these expectations and positivity and 9/10 times, I realized that I am soooooo normal compared to some of the freaks that we share a community with.
Good luck, Singles. You'll need it.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Happiness. In the form of a blog.
What the hell happened?
I feel like I took a deep breath, exhaled, and then all of sudden........
I'm happy.
I mean legitimately happy. I don't think I've been legitimately happy since before I started shaving my legs (and I think I was around 9? Maybe 10. I'm Italian.)
Picture this: A rhinoceros is sitting on top of your back for yeeeeaaaars, and every day you try to crawl out from underneath this rhino's ass. You're scratching and clawing at the earth, trying to pull yourself away from Mr. Rhinoceros to go see a chiropractor. Sometimes you think you're almost out, but then he shifts his weight, and you're stuck again. That was what my 20's felt like.
Right after New Year's Eve, I started to feel better, and like I was getting somewhere. I FINALLY graduated school on January 5th. This is huge for me. I know, I didn't graduate from Harvard or Yale, or even a state school, but I'm not one who completes things. I can barely finish a book. I graduated high school by the skin of my teeth. As much as I love to learn new things, I do get bored rather quickly. This is something I cannot change.
Anyway, I spent a lot of time in December really hating my ex. Really, really, REALLY HATING my ex. I'm not proud of the things I wished on him. I'm sure he wished some heinous things on me, too. I'm sure he would have been pleased if I failed miserably and didn't graduate school or lost all my friends or got chlamydia. I also spent a lot of time plotting revenge on a "friend" who repeatedly stabbed me in the back by running right to my ex and telling him secrets I had shared with her. If she thinks I didn't figure out that it was her, she is sadly mistaken, because.....I did. I forgive, but I sure as hell don't forget.
Well.....this time, I am going to forget. I wasted so much time sitting around and wondering how someone could turn on me that way. I racked my brain trying to figure out what I had done to this girl to warrant being stabbed in the back. It was making me crazy. I almost lost some real friends because I became so obsessed with trying to figure out the backstabber's identity and her cause. Regardless, I'm going to leave all that hate and anger in 2011, where it belongs. Hatred is a burden. It uses up a lot of energy that could be put forth to something good and worthwhile. I used to think that letting things go was a sign of weakness or lack of pride in oneself. On more than one occasion, I've heard both of my parents say, "Kill 'em with kindness." I used to say that over and over in my head while waiting on douchebags when I worked in a restaurant, but that phrase can be applied to most situations. I don't know about you, but I'd rather be kind and happy than spiteful and miserable. Not to say that I won't stand up for myself when necessary. Homie don't play that.
Letting all of that go has brought me to a better place. I have this very zen feeling of calmness now. Is this how yogis feel? It's all new to me. I recently reflected on times when I thought I was happy, but I was lying to myself. I only thought I was happy. Or maybe I just tricked myself into feeling that way because if I hadn't, the other option was complete and utter depression. Now, I feel as though depression is not an option. I won't let it be one. I don't have time to be depressed, there's just too much to do. The crazy thing is, I'm not done trying to make myself happier. I still have a weight loss goal that I WILL get to, even if Jillian Michaels kills me during the process. More on that later.
How did I really get to be sublimely happy?
Step 1. Get divorced.
I'm kidding!! Come on, that was funny! Ok, let me put my serious face on.
I did something for myself that was realistic and something that I enjoyed. Hopefully, it will make me some money too (Esthetician school). I wrote down my goals. I write everything down. Visuals help me. I've been chastised for this, but fuck the haters, it works for me.
I also got real with myself. I forgave myself for getting married too quickly. I forgave myself for consistently getting involved with guys that weren't right for me, especially when I knew better. I forgave myself for trusting someone that I didn't know very well, and letting them in on personal details of my life. I stopped saying, "Woe as me!". Ok well, I didn't actually say that verbatim, but I stopped feeling sorry for myself and being so angry about the hand I'd been dealt. It's a waste of time.
Finally, I realized something: I was damn lucky. Not to brag, but my mom and step-dad, and my friends, have had my back the entire time. Holy Shit. What would I have done if I didn't have these guys around? What would I have done if my mom and step-dad hadn't financially supported me so I could go to school? I am a lucky bitch. There's nothing I can do to repay them. Nothing. I will appreciate what the people in my life have done for me every day until I'm dead. And if I kick the bucket first, my ghostly ass will be flying around them 24/7 saying, "No really, I still appreciate you even though I'm transparent now."
The best part of my new found happiness is that I can literally feel my dad's energy all around me now. It's the strangest, and coolest thing. Being stuck in a bullshit fog for so long prevented me from noticing it. If you didn't know my dad, I feel sorry for you. My dad was special. He could make you feel like a million bucks just in the way he said hello. He had this presence about him that could light up whatever room he walked into. Even after his death, that presence still exists.
I faced a lot to get to where I am right now. Sometimes, I'm afraid the other shoe is going to drop, and something really bad is going to shoot me down off my little cloud of happiness. It's Murphy's Law. But after everything I've been through, I've learned that regardless of what happens, there's always something awesome right around the corner. It might even be a rhinoceros.
I feel like I took a deep breath, exhaled, and then all of sudden........
I'm happy.
I mean legitimately happy. I don't think I've been legitimately happy since before I started shaving my legs (and I think I was around 9? Maybe 10. I'm Italian.)
Picture this: A rhinoceros is sitting on top of your back for yeeeeaaaars, and every day you try to crawl out from underneath this rhino's ass. You're scratching and clawing at the earth, trying to pull yourself away from Mr. Rhinoceros to go see a chiropractor. Sometimes you think you're almost out, but then he shifts his weight, and you're stuck again. That was what my 20's felt like.
Right after New Year's Eve, I started to feel better, and like I was getting somewhere. I FINALLY graduated school on January 5th. This is huge for me. I know, I didn't graduate from Harvard or Yale, or even a state school, but I'm not one who completes things. I can barely finish a book. I graduated high school by the skin of my teeth. As much as I love to learn new things, I do get bored rather quickly. This is something I cannot change.
Anyway, I spent a lot of time in December really hating my ex. Really, really, REALLY HATING my ex. I'm not proud of the things I wished on him. I'm sure he wished some heinous things on me, too. I'm sure he would have been pleased if I failed miserably and didn't graduate school or lost all my friends or got chlamydia. I also spent a lot of time plotting revenge on a "friend" who repeatedly stabbed me in the back by running right to my ex and telling him secrets I had shared with her. If she thinks I didn't figure out that it was her, she is sadly mistaken, because.....I did. I forgive, but I sure as hell don't forget.
Well.....this time, I am going to forget. I wasted so much time sitting around and wondering how someone could turn on me that way. I racked my brain trying to figure out what I had done to this girl to warrant being stabbed in the back. It was making me crazy. I almost lost some real friends because I became so obsessed with trying to figure out the backstabber's identity and her cause. Regardless, I'm going to leave all that hate and anger in 2011, where it belongs. Hatred is a burden. It uses up a lot of energy that could be put forth to something good and worthwhile. I used to think that letting things go was a sign of weakness or lack of pride in oneself. On more than one occasion, I've heard both of my parents say, "Kill 'em with kindness." I used to say that over and over in my head while waiting on douchebags when I worked in a restaurant, but that phrase can be applied to most situations. I don't know about you, but I'd rather be kind and happy than spiteful and miserable. Not to say that I won't stand up for myself when necessary. Homie don't play that.
Letting all of that go has brought me to a better place. I have this very zen feeling of calmness now. Is this how yogis feel? It's all new to me. I recently reflected on times when I thought I was happy, but I was lying to myself. I only thought I was happy. Or maybe I just tricked myself into feeling that way because if I hadn't, the other option was complete and utter depression. Now, I feel as though depression is not an option. I won't let it be one. I don't have time to be depressed, there's just too much to do. The crazy thing is, I'm not done trying to make myself happier. I still have a weight loss goal that I WILL get to, even if Jillian Michaels kills me during the process. More on that later.
How did I really get to be sublimely happy?
Step 1. Get divorced.
I'm kidding!! Come on, that was funny! Ok, let me put my serious face on.
I did something for myself that was realistic and something that I enjoyed. Hopefully, it will make me some money too (Esthetician school). I wrote down my goals. I write everything down. Visuals help me. I've been chastised for this, but fuck the haters, it works for me.
I also got real with myself. I forgave myself for getting married too quickly. I forgave myself for consistently getting involved with guys that weren't right for me, especially when I knew better. I forgave myself for trusting someone that I didn't know very well, and letting them in on personal details of my life. I stopped saying, "Woe as me!". Ok well, I didn't actually say that verbatim, but I stopped feeling sorry for myself and being so angry about the hand I'd been dealt. It's a waste of time.
Finally, I realized something: I was damn lucky. Not to brag, but my mom and step-dad, and my friends, have had my back the entire time. Holy Shit. What would I have done if I didn't have these guys around? What would I have done if my mom and step-dad hadn't financially supported me so I could go to school? I am a lucky bitch. There's nothing I can do to repay them. Nothing. I will appreciate what the people in my life have done for me every day until I'm dead. And if I kick the bucket first, my ghostly ass will be flying around them 24/7 saying, "No really, I still appreciate you even though I'm transparent now."
The best part of my new found happiness is that I can literally feel my dad's energy all around me now. It's the strangest, and coolest thing. Being stuck in a bullshit fog for so long prevented me from noticing it. If you didn't know my dad, I feel sorry for you. My dad was special. He could make you feel like a million bucks just in the way he said hello. He had this presence about him that could light up whatever room he walked into. Even after his death, that presence still exists.
I faced a lot to get to where I am right now. Sometimes, I'm afraid the other shoe is going to drop, and something really bad is going to shoot me down off my little cloud of happiness. It's Murphy's Law. But after everything I've been through, I've learned that regardless of what happens, there's always something awesome right around the corner. It might even be a rhinoceros.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Lessons.......I've Learned a Few........Maybe More Than a Few
"The hottest love has the coldest end."
Damn, Socrates, you were ahead of your time. The following entry consists of the lessons I've learned since 2008, in no particular order.
Damn, Socrates, you were ahead of your time. The following entry consists of the lessons I've learned since 2008, in no particular order.
- My children's feelings will always come first. They're the ones that have to put me in the nice nursing home someday.
- I need to surround myself with positivity because I easily absorb negative energy if it's within a 30 foot radius. The people who bring out the best in me are the ones that I need to keep in my secret inner circle of fabulousness.
- I found out who my true friends were and I will never put them on the back burner again, regardless of how crazy life gets.
- I will never ever EVER lose my sense of self in a relationship again nor will I keep my mouth shut when I strongly disagree with something.
- I will never let myself get too comfy in a relationship again, whereas I completely stop taking care of myself. As a romantic at heart, I wish I could say that the right man will love you and still find you attractive if you consistently wear your SU Basketball t-shirt and sweatpants every day, gain 50 lbs, and eat a bag of Doritos in front of the tv, but that is simply not that case. He may not necessarily run out and cheat on you, but there's a good chance he's not going to race you to the bedroom. Reality is, not even my seductive charm and quick wit will win someone over if my hair is not done. It's sad, but that is reality. You don't want to get to a point where Kesha in a garbage bag looks like a supermodel compared to you. Not to mention, there will ALWAYS be someone to impress, even if you are in a committed relationship: Employers, clients, cops who try to give you a speeding ticket, the list goes on...
- I am not capable of loving anyone else until I can look at myself in the mirror and say, "You......are the shit." And mean it. I have to be
100% happy97% happyat least 95% happy with myself and my position in life before I can contribute to a partnership with another person. This works both ways. I cannot commit to someone who isn't happy with himself either.
- I can't be with someone who doesn't respect me or my feelings because they simply don't understand why I feel the way I do.
- I will admit when I'm wrong (I sure will try!) and follow suit with an apology. And I'm not going to allow myself to always be wrong. My future boyfriend should also have some sweet apology skills, too. Being self-righteous is incredibly unattractive.
- I have to trust my gut instinct. My best friend has scolded me about this on more than one occasion. She's wicked bossy, thank God. If it doesn't truly feel right, it probably isn't. I will never be blinded by infatuation again.
- I need my partner to have my back and be there for me when things get rough. I can handle a lot of tough stuff on my own (because I'm a badass mofo), but having that special person's arms around you, telling you that everything is going to be alright......is priceless. Sometimes, that's all I need to hear, and sometimes, I just need a fucking hug (even though I am still a badass). I also need my future someone to be supportive when things are going really well! You know, like when I'm famous someday! (Don't roll your eyes at me......it could happen....)
So there you go. One marriage, many lessons.
With all that I've been through, I'm here to tell you that marriage itself, is not a huge mistake. I'm fairly certain that marriage can be wonderful with the right person.
"But Jen, how do I know if it's the right person?"
Whoa whoa whoa....I'm not a therapist!
Seriously, from experience, I think that the test of time will give you, or me, the answer to that question. I believe you have to go through some heavy shit first before you get married. Loss, joy, moving across the country, moving into your mom's house, job promotions, unemployment, holidays with each others families, you get the idea. If you can survive a hurricane, a tsunami, and an earthquake together and still feel the way you did when you first met, therein lies the answer.
Marriage is not an institution. It's a beautiful idea. In a world full of shit, it should be the most romantic and meaningful idea left. It is not something that can be taken for granted nor should it be used as leverage toward an ultimatum. It is not selfish nor to be made a spectacle of (ahem, Kim Kardashian).
As the chapter in my life entitled, "My Twisted 20's", comes to a close this year, I can't help but be excited, yet apprehensive, of what's next on life's agenda. It's kind of funny, but I got a lot of milestones out of the way in my 20's. I had children. I got married. I lost a parent. I had to count out change to buy my family dinner (that's not a milestone, but at least I can look back and laugh at it...sort of). I got divorced. And I somehow did it all without medication or therapy, although it probably would have helped.
On New Year's Eve of 2011, I vowed to put everything behind me and start fresh with a different outlook on people, relationships, and life in general. I look forward to my new career and where it could take me. I want to be the best mom I can be to my kids because they're so deserving of it. Now that I've pretty much figured out who I am, I'm ready to accept my faults, and continue to grow from my mistakes......because I am bound to make several more. I want to give myself an entire year without dating to focus on my new life. Cheers, motherfuckers!!!
Of course, if I've learned anything at all, I should know by now that life doesn't always go as we plan it :). Stay tuned, kids.
"But Jen, how do I know if it's the right person?"
Whoa whoa whoa....I'm not a therapist!
Seriously, from experience, I think that the test of time will give you, or me, the answer to that question. I believe you have to go through some heavy shit first before you get married. Loss, joy, moving across the country, moving into your mom's house, job promotions, unemployment, holidays with each others families, you get the idea. If you can survive a hurricane, a tsunami, and an earthquake together and still feel the way you did when you first met, therein lies the answer.
Marriage is not an institution. It's a beautiful idea. In a world full of shit, it should be the most romantic and meaningful idea left. It is not something that can be taken for granted nor should it be used as leverage toward an ultimatum. It is not selfish nor to be made a spectacle of (ahem, Kim Kardashian).
As the chapter in my life entitled, "My Twisted 20's", comes to a close this year, I can't help but be excited, yet apprehensive, of what's next on life's agenda. It's kind of funny, but I got a lot of milestones out of the way in my 20's. I had children. I got married. I lost a parent. I had to count out change to buy my family dinner (that's not a milestone, but at least I can look back and laugh at it...sort of). I got divorced. And I somehow did it all without medication or therapy, although it probably would have helped.
On New Year's Eve of 2011, I vowed to put everything behind me and start fresh with a different outlook on people, relationships, and life in general. I look forward to my new career and where it could take me. I want to be the best mom I can be to my kids because they're so deserving of it. Now that I've pretty much figured out who I am, I'm ready to accept my faults, and continue to grow from my mistakes......because I am bound to make several more. I want to give myself an entire year without dating to focus on my new life. Cheers, motherfuckers!!!
(In order to really understand my excitement, please enjoy this Whitesnake video and also Tawny Kitaen's love affair with David Coverdale.....and his car.)
Of course, if I've learned anything at all, I should know by now that life doesn't always go as we plan it :). Stay tuned, kids.
Monday, January 2, 2012
The Means to an End
When my parents separated, it was probably the easiest thing they've ever done together. They came to a mutual agreement, they remained friends, everything was as cool as the other side of the pillow. Silly naive little me, I thought my husband and I could end things just as easily.
It started out that way. We sat down. We discussed. We eventually came to the agreement that things weren't working and that there was too much damage to repair through counseling or other means. We were not the same happy, euphoric people that couldn't wait to marry each other. It's hard to say whether or not we grew apart. We may have, but I think what it comes down to is that we didn't know each other well enough before we got married.
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeew. There. I said it. Usually, I don't have a problem admitting when I'm wrong, but this is the one thing I never wanted to come to terms with. Three years ago, I was so sure that I was making the right decision. We had a spark, a connection, we totally clicked! It was a "There were birds....all around....but I never heard them singing......til there was you" kind of love. You could cut the passion between us with a knife, and I'm sure some people around us wanted to. We were the epitome of a dating success story. From the bottom of my heart, I meant every word I spoke during our wedding vows. I took marriage seriously because I hadn't found anyone worthy of that kind of love before. I should write a country song.....
So here we are, in the living room that's no longer "ours", avoiding eye contact, on the verge of tears, trying to to figure out how we got to the point we were at. That word..."divorce"....passed my lips, and my eyes welled up. Even though I knew when we separated that this was the inevitable next step, I couldn't believe it was really happening. Everything that the people who doubted us had predicted of our marriage was coming to fruition. We lightly touched upon the details of the children and money, but what I remember him so clearly saying was, "If I can't make it work with you, I don't think I can make it work with anyone." Hmmmm....yes, this is true.....
Just kidding. Not really. Ok, yes, really.
Moving on.
So initially, we were on the same track and it was nice while it lasted. Eventually though, things got nasty, as they usually do during a divorce. It took me by surprise and it was almost as if we hadn't known each at all. Again, my parents were an exception to the "bitter divorce" cliche. I guess I have to chalk it up to the fact that they're just awesome people who were realistic about their marriage and their futures. I'm not going to get in to the nitty gritty details of the nastiness of our divorce because that phase has passed, I hope, and I'd rather look ahead than behind. And after the year that I had, I really don't want to look at my behind. It's quite bigger than it used to be.
Now, Jennifer, what did we learn from this?
HA!!! Where do I begin!?
It started out that way. We sat down. We discussed. We eventually came to the agreement that things weren't working and that there was too much damage to repair through counseling or other means. We were not the same happy, euphoric people that couldn't wait to marry each other. It's hard to say whether or not we grew apart. We may have, but I think what it comes down to is that we didn't know each other well enough before we got married.
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeew. There. I said it. Usually, I don't have a problem admitting when I'm wrong, but this is the one thing I never wanted to come to terms with. Three years ago, I was so sure that I was making the right decision. We had a spark, a connection, we totally clicked! It was a "There were birds....all around....but I never heard them singing......til there was you" kind of love. You could cut the passion between us with a knife, and I'm sure some people around us wanted to. We were the epitome of a dating success story. From the bottom of my heart, I meant every word I spoke during our wedding vows. I took marriage seriously because I hadn't found anyone worthy of that kind of love before. I should write a country song.....
So here we are, in the living room that's no longer "ours", avoiding eye contact, on the verge of tears, trying to to figure out how we got to the point we were at. That word..."divorce"....passed my lips, and my eyes welled up. Even though I knew when we separated that this was the inevitable next step, I couldn't believe it was really happening. Everything that the people who doubted us had predicted of our marriage was coming to fruition. We lightly touched upon the details of the children and money, but what I remember him so clearly saying was, "If I can't make it work with you, I don't think I can make it work with anyone." Hmmmm....yes, this is true.....
Just kidding. Not really. Ok, yes, really.
Moving on.
So initially, we were on the same track and it was nice while it lasted. Eventually though, things got nasty, as they usually do during a divorce. It took me by surprise and it was almost as if we hadn't known each at all. Again, my parents were an exception to the "bitter divorce" cliche. I guess I have to chalk it up to the fact that they're just awesome people who were realistic about their marriage and their futures. I'm not going to get in to the nitty gritty details of the nastiness of our divorce because that phase has passed, I hope, and I'd rather look ahead than behind. And after the year that I had, I really don't want to look at my behind. It's quite bigger than it used to be.
Now, Jennifer, what did we learn from this?
HA!!! Where do I begin!?
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