Angie, Party of One

Last April, after one lame date too many, I decided to take a break from all this dating business. Instead of going out with another loser, I felt my time would be better spent staying home and watching The Biggest Loser (at least it would be much more motivating.) I decided I was going to get back to the gym and really get on a good diet and exercise regime once and for all. I was going to focus on myself instead of focusing on the search for Mr. Right. I got a trainer, went vegetarian, laid off the booze a bit, shed close to 20 lbs., and now I’m addicted to cardio. Who knew? My plan was to blog about all of it. I mean, who can’t relate to the masochistic relationships we have with our scales? (My scale can be a total asshole programmed to fuck with me. I’m sure of it.)

I was all ready to write about my gym adventures when the Royal Wedding and the capture of Osama Bin Laden happen on the same weekend and like a moth to a flame, I was now dating my TV exclusively. The time I would have spent writing was now spent obsessively watching CNN. And just when I thought that news programming couldn’t get any better, the Casey Anthony trial kicked into high gear and I was a goner. It was a full on love affair with my TV and Nancy Grace. The trial ended in July and then I was off with my family to the east coast for vacation (no time to write) then it was “back to school” (no time to write) then it was Thanksgiving and my 20th high school reunion (still no time to write but I have a REALLY good story about that weekend involving a crazy ex-boyfriend, threatening text messages and making the local police log in my hometown newspaper.) So after ALL of that, we’re already closing in on the end of the year. HOW IS IT ALREADY 2012 WHEN IT FEELS LIKE 1998 WAS ONLY 3 YEARS AGO?! Anyway…

With my news obsession simmering down and my body slimming down, I decided I was ready to date again. I at least wanted a good make out session with someone. Close to 7 months with no sex and it was time to turn things around. Mama needed some lovin’.

My OkCupid profile went back up and I was ready for some action. I got hit up by a guy who looked really cute in his pictures. He suggested we talk on the phone. Groooan. I’ve mentioned before how much I fucking hate talking on the phone with potential dates. Why? Because I’m way too tired to deal at the end of the day. I just want to zone out on the couch. I don’t want to have to be “on” and chatty and chipper because I do that all day long. Not at 10:30 on a Monday night (or ever for that matter) but I agree nonetheless. Our phone call is awkward at best but he seems pretty funny - he’s a stand up comic so at least I know he has a sense of humor. He texts me the next day and asks me if I’d like to meet him out that Thursday at a comedy fest in Eagle Rock. Eagle fucking Rock. Why couldn’t it be the Miracle Mile comedy fest? No, it has to be in Eagle Rock. FOUR freeways later, yes four, I arrive at some random coffee shop off of Colorado Blvd. (I now have a self imposed freeway date rule - if I have to get on more than 1 freeway to meet you, I’m not fucking going and your ass is meeting me in my ‘hood. (I’ll let you know how that works out for me.)

I guess I missed the part in his profile where it lists his height because I’m towering over him by at least a foot. No offense to the shawties out there but I’m a tall girl pushing 5’ 11” in heels (5’8” without.) I need a tall man. He was maaaaybe 5’5” bless his heart. Height is one of my deal breakers. BUT he was VERY sweet and kind and I feel bad even writing about it but I can’t leave you hanging now…

When I tell my best friend Lauren I’m going to a comedy fest with a stand up comic she asks me with trepidation if he’s taking me to watch HIM do stand up. NOOOOooooo I say! I’m going WITH him to watch OTHER comics do stand up. Duh Lauren! DUH! So when I get there and meet him outside at the coffee shop I’m curious as to why he’s writing notes down on a little piece of paper. He tells me that he’s signed up for the open mic spot at 8:15 so we have time to get coffee before he goes on. WHAAAAT??? Oh shit…

He apologizes that the comedy portion of the evening is taking place outside on the back patio because it’s a little cold. Remember east coast readers, in LA when it drops down to the low 50s IT’S FUCKING FREEZING TO US! He goes to the bathroom and I pull out my phone to text Lauren “HE’S DOING STAND UP! YOU WERE RIGHT!”

We head to the back patio. There are 7 of us out there - 4 comics, some random couple who just stopped to see what was going on as they made their way to the parking lot and me. The stage is the landing of the back staircase behind the coffee shop. My date tells me he feels weird without holding a mic so I tell him to just hold his coffee cup in front of himself. He does. He’s actually funny. Definitely the funniest out of the lot. He has a dead pan sort of delivery and I genuinely laugh out loud at a few of his jokes. But I’m still not interested…not even a little bit.

We decide to check out a few more comics next door but they’re not that funny. He asks if I have time to check out another comic but when I look at the clock I tell him that I didn’t have a chance to stop home to let my dog out and I really should be getting home to tend to my pup. I’m telling ya, dogs and kids are the best excuses to get out of things. Get some if you don’t have any (or you can just lie about it. That works too.)

I realize that my dog excuse is suuuuuper lame and I figure he realizes it too so I’m shocked when I’m back on the first of four freeways heading home when my phone rings and it’s him. I panic. Why is he calling me? I don’t pick up and let it go to voicemail. On the message he says that he remembered me saying my GPS broke so he just wanted to see if I needed directions getting back to the freeway. Oh my God I’m the biggest bitch who ever lived. I feel REALLY bad now. That was a very chivalrous and sweet thing to do. I plan on texting him when I get home to thank him but he beats me to the punch. He thanks me for coming all the way out there and that it was nice meeting me. I write back, “Thank you! You too!” and figure that’s the end of it.

The next day I get another text from him asking if I’d like to get together again and maybe see a movie. I thought I’d have the lady balls to write back that I think he’s super nice and funny but I just didn’t feel any chemistry between us and that I wish him the best. But I don’t. Instead I ignore it and continue on with my day. I would be pissed if someone did that to me. I would expect the respect of someone just being upfront with me…or would I? Which is worse? Not answering or answering truthfully? I’ve done the whole “thank you but no thank you” text or email before to someone I wasn’t interested in but for some reason I feel really bad about letting this guy down. How would you respond?

After a long ass self imposed hiatus, I’m back with a date tonight in Eagle Rock. Why the hell am I truckin’ out to Eagle Rock you may ask? I have no idea really…but let’s just hope this isn’t a big ol’ waste of time & I end up regretting my decision to “get back out there” while I could have been content on my couch watching The Big Bang Theory. Stayed tuned for more.

Getting dumped absolutely sucks. There is no way around it. You’ve been rejected and “tossed back”. Catch and release. And you’ve been released. As your self esteem plummets to it’s death to the depths below, you find yourself justifying your worth, your attractiveness and your desirability. It’s a horrible downward spiral (but something that will get your ass back to the gym in lightening speed.)

Of course the only salt in this wound that could sting worse is when you were actually willing and open to put your heart out there to see if you could make a go of it with this person. The risk of getting hurt is always a tricky gamble. You were attracted to the other person and ready to see if it would grow into something more, all the while being excited and happy about the prospect. That’s why it really kicks you in the gut and doubles you over with pain and embarrassment when they tell you there’s “nothing there” when you thought/hoped maybe there was.

This is what happened with me and Bachelor #1. He took me out on a Friday night and we had a good time. We went out that Sunday afternoon and he was being weird and distant. That night I get a phone call from him at 10pm and he says, “I just wanted to let you know that I just don’t think there is anything there between us.” Nothing there?! It took you 7, SEVEN dates to figure out there wasn’t anything there? You kept calling me and pursuing me and asking me out only to realize after weeks and weeks of this that there was nothing there? The second he knew he had me was the second he lost interest. It was a classic case of a man on the hunt. On the chase. When the prey was caught, the game wasn’t fun anymore. Dick.

“I think you’re great and I would still love to be friends with you,” he tells me. “Well, I appreciate that,” I said, “but at this point in my life I know what I want, and that’s a committed relationship. I have plenty of friends and I don’t need anymore.” “Ooh,” he replies all dejected,  “Well if you change your mind, my line is always open to you. Talk to you soon.” “No, actually, you won’t” I reply and as I hear another dejected “Ooh,” I hang up.

A year ago, I think I would have rolled over and let him off the hook and agreed to be friends with him. Not anymore. In that moment when I hung up the phone, I realized the growth and change inside of me and I felt proud of myself, even though his phone call made me really sad. I shed a few tears and felt completely disappointed. I thought back to all of our dates trying to figure out what my missteps were - where did I go wrong? Then I realized, it wasn’t me. I didn’t do anything that would have sent him running. I was acting like a mature adult trying to be in a mature adult relationship all the while living my own life and doing my own thing and never once putting pressure on the situation or initiating that fatal conversation of “What’s going on with us?” I was just going with the flow.

It’s important to mention that I never slept with him. The one night we were about to (after HE invited me into his bedroom & after HE took my clothes off) at the moment of entry, HE decided he wasn’t “ready.” HUH?! WHAT GUY DOES THAT? I was so confused but I tried to convince myself that his behaviour was acceptable (it wasn’t.) I felt like shit the next day. Looking back I realized after most of our dates, more times than not, I always left feeling bad and confused because he was constantly giving me mixed signals I couldn’t read. Intimacy issues combined with commitment issues = what the fuck am I doing wasting my precious free nights with this man child? This guy was almost 40 and he had never been married, engaged or had a live in girlfriend. I had a serial dater on my hands, one who will probably be a perpetual bachelor for the rest of his life. Enjoy.

I gave myself one day to wallow in my rejected misery. Then I was off to a super fun business trip that would allow me to forget all about Bachelor #1. Funny enough, while on said business trip I run into our mutual friend - Bachelor #1’s sister’s best friend. The one who initially told me I was “too cool” for him. “So how’s it going with XXX?” she asks. “He just dumped me!” I tell her and at that both her and her husband roll their eyes. “His sister and I knew he was going to fuck it up with you. That whole family has commitment issues Angie, just know it’s not you.” If she was just trying to make me feel better, it worked.

So back to the sea I go with all the other fishes. I took my profile down from the site where I met Bachelor #1 (the www.nerve.com personals via www.salon.com) and decided to give OkCupid a try. There are dudes aplenty on that site and I’ve already had one date earlier this week and I have 3 or 4 other guys that I’ve been emailing with that have some potential. So we’ll see….I’m not about to let Bachelor #1 keep me down, if anything it’s motivated me to keep fishing for someone who will truly appreciate my awesomeness. I’m confident that someday I will.

I sometimes wonder if dating would be easier if I were a lesbian. Turns out, our lesbian sisters are encountering the same insane bullshit on their journey through on line dating as well. Here’s a recent email:

Okay, I just had to tell you this cause I know you can relate and so you won’t think you heteros get all the weirdos.
So I’m talking to this woman online and she asks if I want to meet. I say “sure.” She then asks if I’m an early morning person to which I of course say “no.” (Besides, who the hell wants to go on an online/blind date first thing in the morning.) She replies that she had a hunch that I was not a morning person and congratulates herself for her excellent instincts. She then proceeds to ask me if I want to meet “early sunday morning” or late sunday afternoon.

Ummmm…. hello. WTF?

This is a 42 y.o. who is not in the entertainment industry. Is she not even listening to herself, let alone me? This is what I have to deal with. I feel like saying forget it we’re clearly not compatible, but in the interest of meeting the quota of this obvious numbers game I guess I’ll go through with it.

I told her she has to write back to tell us how it went. Gay or straight, I guess it’s all exhausting.

I recently met 3 different bachelors. Here’s what happened:

BACHELOR #1

As you know, I have dived head first into the on-line dating abyss (again.) After a string of haaaaarible (that’s how my mom pronounces it) dates last spring, I decided to shut it down. This lady was closed for business after the guy with no pinky, the guy who wanted me to meet his dad after the first date and the sweaty guy who told me he hadn’t adjusted his “meds” yet and therefore was sweating throughout the whole date like he just left a spinning class. But, it is a new year, a new me and blah blah blah. My friends kept pushing me “to get back out there” but I just wasn’t feeling it and then right after new year’s day, on a rainy Sunday with nothing better to do, I start perusing the on line dating sites and after reading 2 profiles that made me laugh out loud, I decided to give this another go.

Shortly after my initial perusing I make a connection with “Bachelor #1.” His profile was funny and smart and it was THE profile that made me hopeful that maybe there were cool guys worth meeting on the interwebs. So I send him a “wink” and he sends me a message. From there we have a lovely exchange of emails and decide we should talk on the phone. Well, HE decides we should talk on the phone. I, on the other hand am not an 8th grade girl anymore and think talking on the phone with someone I don’t know but might want to date is awkward and weird at this stage of my life. But whatevs, maybe this is what the hipster singletons do these days.

We set the date and time of our phone call - which I’m supposed to initiate. Instead, I crack open a bottle of wine and smoke a few puffs from my spliff. Just then my phone rings and it’s my dear friend Brian calling from up north. “Ohmygod Brian! I’m supposed to call this guy I met on line but instead I just got totally baked and now I’m too afraid to call!” Brian has one of the heartiest laughs of anyone I know and as he cackles he says, “Aahh…it’s called self sabotage my dear, I know it well.”

After Brian and I chat for a few, he tells me to go call my future husband so we hang up and I place “the call.” Bachelor #1 answers and we’re both cracking jokes and trying to mask our nervousness. Next thing you know, it’s been over an hour and the conversation is still going strong. We decide we should meet in person. Yay! At this point I only know his first name and what he does for a living. Sooooo, because I’m a master Googler - I Google him & the name of his company and whomp there he is! First and last name found and confirmed. What the hell would we do without the interwebs? Click click click over to Facebook I go and BOOM one mutual “friend” between us pops up. (I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Facebook stalking is IMPERATIVE! http://angiepartyofone.tumblr.com/post/618663604)

Now this “mutual friend” is more of a business associate than a “buddy buddy” kind of friend but it turns out that I will be seeing her at a work event 2 nights prior to my date. I tell myself I’m not going to say anything to her. Just play it cool and go in blind. But after 4 vodka drinks I see her at the bar and say, “omgihavetotalktoyouuuuu.” Not only does she KNOW “Bachelor #1” she is best friends with HIS sister. Holy shit I have hit the mother load. I tell her he seems really funny and smart. He is she confirms. I ask if he’s a player…not at all she tells me. Phew! Awesome.

Although I was anti-phone call in the beginning, we do talk a few more times on the phone before our first date. He’s really good about initiating contact and I like that. With each phone conversation I start to like him more and more. He’s funny and opinionated and he cracks me up with some of the shit he says.

Our date is set for that Friday night. I meet him in NoHo and we go to a Tiki Bar and score a booth. When I take my jacket off his eyes immediately go to my boobs. I wonder what his first impression of them is (they’re kinda small boobs.) But then again, boobs are boobs to guys. Kinda can’t go wrong I guess. We have a great time talking and laughing and I’m really enjoying myself. I’m getting a good vibe, I’m giving a good vibe and all I can think about is the kiss goodnight.

But I never GET a kiss goodnight. I am left dumbfounded and dazed and confused after our date in the fucking valley of all places. When we went to say our goodbyes he bolted. “Alright, thanks, talk to you later” he says and gives me a hug and a quick air kiss on the cheek and then takes off. I am crestfallen. What happened? I thought he was into me. How did I misread the last 2 hours? I drive away and I feel really sad. Fuck this dating thing. I was so much happier just doing my thing and taking a break from guys. What the FUCK?

I notice that he has checked out my profile page 2 days in a row after our date. I decide I am not initiating contact. If he’s interested, he knows how to get in touch with me and then on Sunday night….who calls me? Yep, Bachelor #1. I miss the call and I don’t call him back. I make him wait and I call him on Monday night. The convo is quick because he was working late and I’m pretty sure I’ll never hear from him again, but I do and he asks me on date #2! So what happened after our first date? Did he just panic and get nervous? Must have because he wouldn’t be calling if he wasn’t interested. Right?!

Date #2 is SO much more relaxed than date #1, partly because I had him meet me at my place instead of going to a bar like originally planned. It was a rainy Sunday night. I didn’t feel like trekking out to a bar. We drink a bottle of wine, smoke a joint and then proceed to make out and dry hump on my couch like we’re in 10th grade. It is AWESOME. (Dry humping is so underrated.) He tries to go for my zipper and I stop him. “I want to, but just not yet” I say like an innocent fawn. I purposely didn’t get waxed for this date so I wouldn’t be temped to have a total lapse of judgment and let him take my pants off. (It’s happened.) Wow! Withholding sex is SO powerful! Damn - I should have implemented this strategy years ago!

He texts me the next night and says, “Just wanted to say hi - last night was great!” We text back and forth for a bit and finally I say/text “Well, we should hang out again soon!” and he says, “Sure! I’ll call you and we’ll make a plan.” This response is annoying to me. Let’s just make a plan NOW I think to myself. Between work, motherhood and dating, my week nights are getting booked. If he wants to make a plan, he better hop to it. I have a date with Bachelor #2 on Saturday (more on that later) and I’ve been putting off Bachelor #3 until I know when Bachelor #1 wants to go out again but he didn’t call me tonight and Bachelor #3 is free after Wednesday so it looks like he might get my Thursday, which means Bachelor #1 is going to have to wait until NEXT week.

A very good guy friend of mine told me I need to keep casting my line out into the ocean and that I can’t shut out other opportunities waiting for Bachelor #1. It’s a numbers game he tells me. You can’t think you’re going to get up to bat and hit a home run every time. He’s says I need to up the quantity of dates in order to find the right person. Increase the frequency he tells me, and don’t put too much energy into Bachelor #1. If he doesn’t get how fucking awesome and amazing you are right away, then he doesn’t deserve you anyway. I have to keep telling myself my friend is right. Because he is.

BACHELOR #2

This entry could have had so many other titles; “Penis Peenata,” “Psychic Awakenings,” or “No One Is Ever Going To Believe This One.” Bachelor #2 and I met on www.nerve.com. From his profile I can tell he’s a bit eccentric and artsy. He mentions that he went to college in Boston (so did I) and he sounds like the kind of guy who would have went to the same college as me. It was a very unconventional, communications focused, artsy school. Think “Fame” for the TV/Film/Radio/Actor set. If you’re a guy attending this school, you’re either a little crazy or gay. (Now this doesn’t count for everyone of course, some of my guy friends from college are straight and sane, however, they are in the minority.)

Bachelor #2 also mentions in his profile that he’s a Buddhist, he will NOT date Libras, and he’s a writer currently developing a musical based on the Buddha. When I tell my ex-hub that I’m going out with this guy he exclaims, “Angie! He’s GAY! He went to (insert name of my alma mater here), and he writes show tunes. He’s gay and watch, you’re going to like him the best out of all the 3 bachelors.” (He fucking better not be right about this one.)

I meet Bachelor #2 at Bergin’s on Fairfax. It’s an Irish bar with a very down home vibe. The walls are covered with shamrocks, there’s a jukebox and the Laker game is on. It’s bustling when I walk in and I scan the room to see if I can recognize him from his profile picture. I finally spot him and I make my way over. I went into this date hoping I wasn’t going to be attracted to this guy. I’m still really stuck on Bachelor #1 but I’m heeding my friend’s advice to keep my options open whilst casting multiple lines into the ocean. He’s cute! Very tall and he has a scruffy beard (I love scruffy beards) and he’s wearing a knit cap and a leather jacket. “Hi, I’m Angie” I say with a smile and extend my hand to shake his. He says hi, stands up and gives me a hug.

I settle in at the bar and order a drink. We start to make small talk and have the usual “So how long have you been doing the on line dating thing?” blah blah conversation. Within the first 10 minutes of the date he tells me that 80% of all first dates end up in bed. Hmm, that sounds awfully high to me and I tell him so. He says that he thought so too until he thought back to his last 4 first dates and well, “you know” he says with a sly smile as he eye rapes me.

Did he really just throw that out there? Yes, yes he did. You know what’s maybe even creepier than that? He prefaced his little factoid by saying, “My mom was watching Oprah and they were talking about the number of first dates that end in sex and she called to tell me about it.” What? Really? Gross. Why is your mom calling you about sex stats on Oprah? (Shit, I wished I asked him that now.) I told him I’ve been off the dating scene for about 7 or 8 months now but it was time for me to get back out there. He asks me how I have been “getting my needs met” since I haven’t been dating for awhile. Wow this guy is really giving me the hard core press. “Um, I don’t know, um..I…” I can’t form an answer because I’m in shock at how forward he is.

I’m a little caught off guard but I just dodge the question and I steer the conversation toward his work. This gets him off the sex thing (for now.) Work talk moves to music talk and then moves to college talk. I ask when he graduated and he tells me 1983. Excuse me? I was 10 in 1983. He said he was 38 in his profile. I do the math in my head and put him at 50. Fifty?! He doesn’t look 50 but now that I know he’s 50, I’m even a more grossed out.

We had gone to the same college but obviously we didn’t attend during the same years (because I was in fucking 4th grade at the time!) There was an infamous dorm at our college that was known for being haunted. Everyone had stories of unexplainable things happening there. It was a pretty old building with creepy gargoyles on the outside pillars. “Yeah weird things started happening to me in that dorm. I eventually had to move out,” he tells me. For a second I get excited that he might have some good ghost stories. Fun! Instead, he tells me about the journey of his “psychic awakening.” “Are you psychic?” I asked excitedly. “Yes” he answers as he slowly nods his head.  “Can you see people around me? Is my grandpa here? Can you see my aura?” He can’t do any of these things. Then what kind of fucking “psychic awakening” bullshit is he talking about?

I’ll spare you all of the inane details and give you the major bullet points. His psychic awakening (code for mental breakdown) began when he started having an inner ear issue that felt like his life force was being sucked out of him. He would have dreams that he was standing on a cube and he’d look down and see nothing but the black abyss and knew if he jumped off, he would die. He would wake up and couldn’t move his body although his mind was awake. Oh, and one time, he was able to transmit the radio signal from WBCN through his body. What? I don’t even ask for an explanation on that one. He saw numerous doctors that all told him the same thing, “fleeting anxiety.” I just nod with my eyes wide like I’m hanging on to every word. Well, I AM hanging on to every word but it’s not for the reason he thinks. The whole time I’m thinking, Wow! He’s crazy and I can’t wait to write this story up!

Months go by and he’s still having these episodes. While his mom is at a party one night, a psychic comes up to her and asks if she has a son in trouble. She says that she does - her son has been going to all these doctors but they can’t find anything physically wrong with him. The psychic tells her to have him call so he can walk him through his psychic awakening. So now that he has a “psychic” sponsor, he’s ready to confront his demons. His demons appear to him one night while he’s sleeping. He wakes up and sees a picture frame on the wall that doesn’t really exist. Out of this frame comes a black cloud of darkness and he knows this is the abyss. “You are a thug of the universe and you have no place here,” he tells it. It starts to dissipate and Jesus comes forth through the frame and tells him it’s going to be alright. “I’m a Jew and I have no real connection to Jesus so I never really understood why he came to me,” he says. “Well, Jesus was a Jew” I say, so there’s your connection.

Holy hot damn have I hit the mother load of crazy. I mean, could this get any weirder? The answer to that question is always yes. Out of nowhere he leans over and plants a kiss on me. I’m so taken aback and freaked out and worst of all, he’s not a good kisser. I swear at this point I fantasize about Bachelor #1 busting through the doors to come and rescue me. He’d throw me over his shoulder and take me far, far away from this crazy, Buddha musical making, psychic awakening, FIFTY year old posing as a 30something hipster.

Just when I think he’s doled out all the crazy for one night, he tells me that he wrote a book and he brought along a copy for me. He hands me a very thin paperback with the following title: “A Gentleman’s Companion, 101 Fascinating Things To Do With Your Penis.” For a second I think I might be hallucinating. Did he really just hand this to me? Is that really what it says on the front cover? Yes and yes. He also took the time to inscribe the book to me before the date because it was already written out before he handed it to me. I hold it like it’s a small fragile wounded bird - I hold it like the gift of gold that it is in my hands. This is AMAZING I think to myself. Truly truly amazing. I shall carry this book on my person for the rest of my days because no one, and I mean NO ONE will believe me otherwise.

What are the fascinating things one can do with their penis? Oh there are so many to choose from. My personal fave is the “Penis Peenata” - this consists of filling up a pinata (peenata in this case) with condoms, lube, sex toys, etc and apparently you are to whack the peenata with your peen until it breaks open. Easy.

We get ready to leave the bar and he’s still thinking he has to chance to get me in bed. (He has no fucking chance.) He asks me where I parked and I tell him in valet. He says he hates the valet. I say I hate walking. As we’re standing in the parking lot waiting for my car to come around he goes in for another kiss. I push him away and say, “You’re dangerous” and I kind of laugh it off. He does not laugh it off. He lets a few minutes pass while we make other random small talk and then he looks me dead in the eye and asks with all the seriousness one could muster up in their penis, “Why did you call me dangerous back there? I’m not dangerous. I’m not a bad guy. I don’t do bad things.” The severe look on his face is unnerving. “No, no, no,” I say, “I didn’t mean it like that, I meant it as a compliment (I’m lying), I meant it as in you could influence me to make bad decisions.” At this he leans into my face and says, “Sometimes bad decisions are good decisions.” You’ve got to be kidding me.

I’m able to get out of there without being molested and he emails me through the dating site later that night. In the subject line it says, “You…” and then in the body of the message it reads, “…have some freakin’ yummy lips. Oh the thoughts…;)” At that I click off the site immediately and have the sudden urge to take a Silkwood shower with holy water and a loofah made out of steel.

My sister is awake when I get home and I start to retell her my tale and we flip through the penis book. We can’t stop laughing as we pick out our new favorite fascinating things to do with penises. I swear this book really exists. However, it is not published under his real name, but rather under his “nom de plume” because anyone who is anyone in the dick-lit scene must have a nom de plume…or in his case, a nom de “peen.”

http://www.amazon.com/Gentlemans-Companion-Fascinating-Things-Penis/dp/061530298X.

BACHELOR #3

I almost canceled on Bachelor #3 (aka “Hiatal Hernia”) altogether, and for good reason. Why? Because he kept insisting that we meet at the Grove, on the footbridge near the water fountain because it would be “romantic.” ROMANTIC? The Grove on a Saturday night with every god damn tourist, strollers (with baby strollers!), and throngs of teenagers all out on dates “ooohing” and “aaahing” over the Grove fountain spurting water to music sounds like a fucking nightmare that I want no part of. This was obviously not my kinda guy. My kinda guy would NEVER suggest such nonsense.

During our email exchanges I had asked him what part of town he lived in thinking he would give me the general area. Instead he gave me his exact address and apartment number! (Of course I immediately Google mapped it and clicked on the “street view” with a full on visual of the front of his apartment building.) Is this guy crazy? What if I were crazy and I broke into his place to boil his daughter’s bunny in a pot on the stove? What the hell was he thinking? Why don’t people take heed from the movies and crime dramas on TV? There is so much to learn that could save your life.

I tried to get us off the Grove track - even suggesting another place (and included a link in my email.) Why oh why can’t guys pick up on these passive aggressive suggestions? Gentlemen, when you ask a woman out on a date to a particular place and she suggests another place back to you….GO TO THAT PLACE. He didn’t bite when I suggested we just get drinks at the bar I recommended (I couldn’t commit to a full on dinner) instead he sent me this explanation:

Just so you know, I do enjoy drinking but my body hates me for it, so I don’t really do it that often. The last time I had a few was at my company’s Christmas party in mid-December and oh man, that is a pretty crazy story so I’ll save that one for later. Something about carbonation and alcohol can give me pretty bad heart-burn actually. I have what is called a “Hiatal Hernia” which is a minor defect in the flap that prevents acid from entering the esophagus. It’s minor enough that surgery isn’t recommended but if I eat something like Marinara Sauce with wine or beer, I’d be asking for it. I come from an Italian family so you can imagine sometimes I just eat and drink like that anyways. Since I’ve gotten into lifting weights a couple years ago, my diet has changed pretty radically and I barely have any issues at all…small meals, high protein, low fat, complex carbs, high fiber and low cholesterol. (Your timing couldn’t be better because I’m in the best shape of my life right now! =)

Ew. I didn’t need to know all that. I’m canceling…I’m figuring out a way to get out of this and I’m canceling. Another reason why I wanted to cancel was because I had seen Bachelor #1 again and I reeeeeally like him (a lot!) Aaaand, I was waiting for him to ask me out again and I wanted to keep Saturday night open for him “just in case”. I know, I know, that’s against “The Rules” but whatever. I’m BUSY. I have limited time and I’d rather spend my free Saturday night with HIM as opposed to Bachelor #3/Hiatal Hernia.

I consulted with 2 girlfriend’s about my dilemma. At first they were on board with me canceling (they were horrified by the Grove as a date destination just as much as I was) and then they BOTH had a change of heart. They both said, “Maybe he’s really really nice, you deserve a really nice guy Angie. And he’s a single dad! Maybe he’s just kind of nervous and not used to the dating game and what if what if what if?” I swear it’s the “what if’s” that getcha every time. I knew I still had to keep my options open because Bachelor #1 and I were still pretty far away from the “let’s be exclusive” conversation and it was still very possible that he could disappear on me (it still is very possible and it terrifies me to be quite honest). I owed it to myself to see if Hiatal Hernaia was better in person than through the written word but when Bachelor #1 called and asked me when my next free night was I blurted out, “Saturday!” which was the night I had already booked with Bachelor #3.

Double booked. This was a first for me. I had to think fast. I immediately sent an email to Bachelor #3 seeing if we could make our dinner date a coffee date at 4pm that afternoon (including an elaborate lie as to why I needed to move it up.) Meeting him at 4pm would give me enough time to get home, change and be ready for Bachelor #1 to pick me up. He agrees! Done!

Saturday afternoon rolls around and I’m dreading this meet up and I just want it to be 7pm so I can see Bachelor #1. As I pull up to the coffee shop, I see Bachelor #3 standing out front. We say our hellos and head inside. I’m feeling zero chemistry but I think he’s feeling some. How do I know this? Well, he tells me I’m beautiful, says he’s been waiting 20 years for someone like me and that he’s ready for some “romance”. He says it in a sincere dorky kind of way, not in a “I’m going to molest you” Bachelor #2 kind of way, but as he says it his chin is resting on both fists with his elbows on the table as he wiggles his eyebrows up and down. Ew. He also asks me if I’d like to go out on Valentine’s Day. “Oh, that’s a Monday night isn’t it? Yeah, I have my son on Monday nights.” (Which is the truth.) He is nice enough but I have zero attraction to him and I’m back home in less than an hour. The whole date was pretty uneventful actually, especially compared to my date with Bachelor #2 but I’m not sure if anything will ever top that anyway: http://angiepartyofone.tumblr.com/post/3178720117

He texts me the next day and I ignore it. So rude of me I know - I should of had the balls to write to him to tell him it was nice meeting him but I didn’t feel any spark. That would have been the nice polite thing to do but I don’t and of course now I worry how this will affect my own dating karma but I’ve suffered through enough (http://angiepartyofone.tumblr.com/post/670806868) that I rationalize this into being acceptable.

My date with Bachelor #1 later that evening is AWESOME. So much so that I wake up the next morning feeling conflicted about blogging about it/him. I want to keep it private. I want to keep it between us even though I want to tell you all the cute things he said and did that won me over even more but I won’t. In my heart I know the right thing to do is to not write about it. But I will tell you this: We’ve been out on 4 dates so far with a 5th coming up this week (but not to the Grove because he “hates the Grove”). We’ve decided to take things slow and get to know each other better before we seal the deal. Get to know each other better BEFORE sleeping together? This is such a foreign concept to me. It’s just so crazy that it just might work!  (And I really hope it does because I’m pretty sure really sure I want him to be my boyfriend.)

I almost canceled on Bachelor #3 (aka “Hiatal Hernia”) altogether, and for good reason. Why? Because he kept insisting that we meet at the Grove, on the footbridge near the water fountain because it would be “romantic.” ROMANTIC? The Grove on a Saturday night with every god damn tourist, strollers (with baby strollers!), and throngs of teenagers all out on dates “ooohing” and “aaahing” over the Grove fountain spurting water to music sounds like a fucking nightmare that I want no part of. This was obviously not my kinda guy. My kinda guy would NEVER suggest such nonsense.

During our email exchanges I had asked him what part of town he lived in thinking he would give me the general area. Instead he gave me his exact address and apartment number! (Of course I immediately Google mapped it and clicked on the “street view” with a full on visual of the front of his apartment building.) Is this guy crazy? What if I were crazy and I broke into his place to boil his daughter’s bunny in a pot on the stove? What the hell was he thinking? Why don’t people take heed from the movies and crime dramas on TV? There is so much to learn that could save your life.

I tried to get us off the Grove track - even suggesting another place (and included a link in my email.) Why oh why can’t guys pick up on these passive aggressive suggestions? Gentlemen, when you ask a woman out on a date to a particular place and she suggests another place back to you….GO TO THAT PLACE. He didn’t bite when I suggested we just get drinks at the bar I recommended (I couldn’t commit to a full on dinner) instead he sent me this explanation:

Just so you know, I do enjoy drinking but my body hates me for it, so I don’t really do it that often. The last time I had a few was at my company’s Christmas party in mid-December and oh man, that is a pretty crazy story so I’ll save that one for later. Something about carbonation and alcohol can give me pretty bad heart-burn actually. I have what is called a “Hiatal Hernia” which is a minor defect in the flap that prevents acid from entering the esophagus. It’s minor enough that surgery isn’t recommended but if I eat something like Marinara Sauce with wine or beer, I’d be asking for it. I come from an Italian family so you can imagine sometimes I just eat and drink like that anyways. Since I’ve gotten into lifting weights a couple years ago, my diet has changed pretty radically and I barely have any issues at all…small meals, high protein, low fat, complex carbs, high fiber and low cholesterol. (Your timing couldn’t be better because I’m in the best shape of my life right now! =)

Ew. I didn’t need to know all that. I’m canceling…I’m figuring out a way to get out of this and I’m canceling. Another reason why I wanted to cancel was because I had seen Bachelor #1 again and I reeeeeally like him (a lot!) Aaaand, I was waiting for him to ask me out again and I wanted to keep Saturday night open for him “just in case”. I know, I know, that’s against “The Rules” but whatever. I’m BUSY. I have limited time and I’d rather spend my free Saturday night with HIM as opposed to Bachelor #3/Hiatal Hernia.

I consulted with 2 girlfriend’s about my dilemma. At first they were on board with me canceling (they were horrified by the Grove as a date destination just as much as I was) and then they BOTH had a change of heart. They both said, “Maybe he’s really really nice, you deserve a really nice guy Angie. And he’s a single dad! Maybe he’s just kind of nervous and not used to the dating game and what if what if what if?” I swear it’s the “what if’s” that getcha every time. I knew I still had to keep my options open because Bachelor #1 and I were still pretty far away from the “let’s be exclusive” conversation and it was still very possible that he could disappear on me (it still is very possible and it terrifies me to be quite honest). I owed it to myself to see if Hiatal Hernaia was better in person than through the written word but when Bachelor #1 called and asked me when my next free night was I blurted out, “Saturday!” which was the night I had already booked with Bachelor #3.

Double booked. This was a first for me. I had to think fast. I immediately sent an email to Bachelor #3 seeing if we could make our dinner date a coffee date at 4pm that afternoon (including an elaborate lie as to why I needed to move it up.) Meeting him at 4pm would give me enough time to get home, change and be ready for Bachelor #1 to pick me up. He agrees! Done!

Saturday afternoon rolls around and I’m dreading this meet up and I just want it to be 7pm so I can see Bachelor #1. As I pull up to the coffee shop, I see Bachelor #3 standing out front. We say our hellos and head inside. I’m feeling zero chemistry but I think he’s feeling some. How do I know this? Well, he tells me I’m beautiful, says he’s been waiting 20 years for someone like me and that he’s ready for some “romance”. He says it in a sincere dorky kind of way, not in a “I’m going to molest you” Bachelor #2 kind of way, but as he says it his chin is resting on both fists with his elbows on the table as he wiggles his eyebrows up and down. Ew. He also asks me if I’d like to go out on Valentine’s Day. “Oh, that’s a Monday night isn’t it? Yeah, I have my son on Monday nights.” (Which is the truth.) He is nice enough but I have zero attraction to him and I’m back home in less than an hour. The whole date was pretty uneventful actually, especially compared to my date with Bachelor #2 but I’m not sure if anything will ever top that anyway: http://angiepartyofone.tumblr.com/post/3178720117

He texts me the next day and I ignore it. So rude of me I know - I should of had the balls to write to him to tell him it was nice meeting him but I didn’t feel any spark. That would have been the nice polite thing to do but I don’t and of course now I worry how this will affect my own dating karma but I’ve suffered through enough (http://angiepartyofone.tumblr.com/post/670806868) that I rationalize this into being acceptable.

My date with Bachelor #1 later that evening is AWESOME. So much so that I wake up the next morning feeling conflicted about blogging about it/him. I want to keep it private. I want to keep it between us even though I want to tell you all the cute things he said and did that won me over even more but I won’t. In my heart I know the right thing to do is to not write about it. But I will tell you this: We’ve been out on 4 dates so far with a 5th coming up this week (but not to the Grove because he “hates the Grove”). We’ve decided to take things slow and get to know each other better before we seal the deal. Get to know each other better BEFORE sleeping together? This is such a foreign concept to me. It’s just so crazy that it just might work!  (And I really hope it does because I’m pretty sure really sure I want him to be my boyfriend.)

Last night I had a dream that Matt Dillon wanted to have sex with me. I told him maybe. I guess my whole new “withholding sex” concept has even reached my subconscious.

This entry could have had so many other titles; “Penis Peenata,” “Psychic Awakenings,” or “No One Is Ever Going To Believe This One.” Bachelor #2 and I met on www.nerve.com. From his profile I can tell he’s a bit eccentric and artsy. He mentions that he went to college in Boston (so did I) and he sounds like the kind of guy who would have went to the same college as me. It was a very unconventional, communications focused, artsy school. Think “Fame” for the TV/Film/Radio/Actor set. If you’re a guy attending this school, you’re either a little crazy or gay. (Now this doesn’t count for everyone of course, some of my guy friends from college are straight and sane, however, they are in the minority.)

Bachelor #2 also mentions in his profile that he’s a Buddhist, he will NOT date Libras, and he’s a writer currently developing a musical based on the Buddha. When I tell my ex-hub that I’m going out with this guy he exclaims, “Angie! He’s GAY! He went to (insert name of my alma mater here), and he writes show tunes. He’s gay and watch, you’re going to like him the best out of all the 3 bachelors.” (He fucking better not be right about this one.)

I meet Bachelor #2 at Bergin’s on Fairfax. It’s an Irish bar with a very down home vibe. The walls are covered with shamrocks, there’s a jukebox and the Laker game is on. It’s bustling when I walk in and I scan the room to see if I can recognize him from his profile picture. I finally spot him and I make my way over. I went into this date hoping I wasn’t going to be attracted to this guy. I’m still really stuck on Bachelor #1 but I’m heeding my friend’s advice to keep my options open whilst casting multiple lines into the ocean. He’s cute! Very tall and he has a scruffy beard (I love scruffy beards) and he’s wearing a knit cap and a leather jacket. “Hi, I’m Angie” I say with a smile and extend my hand to shake his. He says hi, stands up and gives me a hug.

I settle in at the bar and order a drink. We start to make small talk and have the usual “So how long have you been doing the on line dating thing?” blah blah conversation. Within the first 10 minutes of the date he tells me that 80% of all first dates end up in bed. Hmm, that sounds awfully high to me and I tell him so. He says that he thought so too until he thought back to his last 4 first dates and well, “you know” he says with a sly smile as he eye rapes me.

Did he really just throw that out there? Yes, yes he did. You know what’s maybe even creepier than that? He prefaced his little factoid by saying, “My mom was watching Oprah and they were talking about the number of first dates that end in sex and she called to tell me about it.” What? Really? Gross. Why is your mom calling you about sex stats on Oprah? (Shit, I wished I asked him that now.) I told him I’ve been off the dating scene for about 7 or 8 months now but it was time for me to get back out there. He asks me how I have been “getting my needs met” since I haven’t been dating for awhile. Wow this guy is really giving me the hard core press. “Um, I don’t know, um..I…” I can’t form an answer because I’m in shock at how forward he is.

I’m a little caught off guard but I just dodge the question and I steer the conversation toward his work. This gets him off the sex thing (for now.) Work talk moves to music talk and then moves to college talk. I ask when he graduated and he tells me 1983. Excuse me? I was 10 in 1983. He said he was 38 in his profile. I do the math in my head and put him at 50. Fifty?! He doesn’t look 50 but now that I know he’s 50, I’m even a more grossed out.

We had gone to the same college but obviously we didn’t attend during the same years (because I was in fucking 4th grade at the time!) There was an infamous dorm at our college that was known for being haunted. Everyone had stories of unexplainable things happening there. It was a pretty old building with creepy gargoyles on the outside pillars. “Yeah weird things started happening to me in that dorm. I eventually had to move out,” he tells me. For a second I get excited that he might have some good ghost stories. Fun! Instead, he tells me about the journey of his “psychic awakening.” “Are you psychic?” I asked excitedly. “Yes” he answers as he slowly nods his head.  “Can you see people around me? Is my grandpa here? Can you see my aura?” He can’t do any of these things. Then what kind of fucking “psychic awakening” bullshit is he talking about?

I’ll spare you all of the inane details and give you the major bullet points. His psychic awakening (code for mental breakdown) began when he started having an inner ear issue that felt like his life force was being sucked out of him. He would have dreams that he was standing on a cube and he’d look down and see nothing but the black abyss and knew if he jumped off, he would die. He would wake up and couldn’t move his body although his mind was awake. Oh, and one time, he was able to transmit the radio signal from WBCN through his body. What? I don’t even ask for an explanation on that one. He saw numerous doctors that all told him the same thing, “fleeting anxiety.” I just nod with my eyes wide like I’m hanging on to every word. Well, I AM hanging on to every word but it’s not for the reason he thinks. The whole time I’m thinking, Wow! He’s crazy and I can’t wait to write this story up!

Months go by and he’s still having these episodes. While his mom is at a party one night, a psychic comes up to her and asks if she has a son in trouble. She says that she does - her son has been going to all these doctors but they can’t find anything physically wrong with him. The psychic tells her to have him call so he can walk him through his psychic awakening. So now that he has a “psychic” sponsor, he’s ready to confront his demons. His demons appear to him one night while he’s sleeping. He wakes up and sees a picture frame on the wall that doesn’t really exist. Out of this frame comes a black cloud of darkness and he knows this is the abyss. “You are a thug of the universe and you have no place here,” he tells it. It starts to dissipate and Jesus comes forth through the frame and tells him it’s going to be alright. “I’m a Jew and I have no real connection to Jesus so I never really understood why he came to me,” he says. “Well, Jesus was a Jew” I say, so there’s your connection.

Holy hot damn have I hit the mother load of crazy. I mean, could this get any weirder? The answer to that question is always yes. Out of nowhere he leans over and plants a kiss on me. I’m so taken aback and freaked out and worst of all, he’s not a good kisser. I swear at this point I fantasize about Bachelor #1 busting through the doors to come and rescue me. He’d throw me over his shoulder and take me far, far away from this crazy, Buddha musical making, psychic awakening, FIFTY year old posing as a 30something hipster.

Just when I think he’s doled out all the crazy for one night, he tells me that he wrote a book and he brought along a copy for me. He hands me a very thin paperback with the following title: “A Gentleman’s Companion, 101 Fascinating Things To Do With Your Penis.” For a second I think I might be hallucinating. Did he really just hand this to me? Is that really what it says on the front cover? Yes and yes. He also took the time to inscribe the book to me before the date because it was already written out before he handed it to me. I hold it like it’s a small fragile wounded bird - I hold it like the gift of gold that it is in my hands. This is AMAZING I think to myself. Truly truly amazing. I shall carry this book on my person for the rest of my days because no one, and I mean NO ONE will believe me otherwise.

What are the fascinating things one can do with their penis? Oh there are so many to choose from. My personal fave is the “Penis Peenata” - this consists of filling up a pinata (peenata in this case) with condoms, lube, sex toys, etc and apparently you are to whack the peenata with your peen until it breaks open. Easy.

We get ready to leave the bar and he’s still thinking he has to chance to get me in bed. (He has no fucking chance.) He asks me where I parked and I tell him in valet. He says he hates the valet. I say I hate walking. As we’re standing in the parking lot waiting for my car to come around he goes in for another kiss. I push him away and say, “You’re dangerous” and I kind of laugh it off. He does not laugh it off. He lets a few minutes pass while we make other random small talk and then he looks me dead in the eye and asks with all the seriousness one could muster up in their penis, “Why did you call me dangerous back there? I’m not dangerous. I’m not a bad guy. I don’t do bad things.” The severe look on his face is unnerving. “No, no, no,” I say, “I didn’t mean it like that, I meant it as a compliment (I’m lying), I meant it as in you could influence me to make bad decisions.” At this he leans into my face and says, “Sometimes bad decisions are good decisions.” You’ve got to be kidding me.

I’m able to get out of there without being molested and he emails me through the dating site later that night. In the subject line it says, “You…” and then in the body of the message it reads, “…have some freakin’ yummy lips. Oh the thoughts…;)” At that I click off the site immediately and have the sudden urge to take a Silkwood shower with holy water and a loofah made out of steel.

My sister is awake when I get home and I start to retell her my tale and we flip through the penis book. We can’t stop laughing as we pick out our new favorite fascinating things to do with penises. I swear this book really exists. However, it is not published under his real name, but rather under his “nom de plume” because anyone who is anyone in the dick-lit scene must have a nom de plume…or in his case, a nom de “peen.”

http://www.amazon.com/Gentlemans-Companion-Fascinating-Things-Penis/dp/061530298X.

As you know, I have dived head first into the on-line dating abyss (again.) After a string of haaaaarible (that’s how my mom pronounces it) dates last spring, I decided to shut it down. This lady was closed for business after the guy with no pinky, the guy who wanted me to meet his dad after the first date and the sweaty guy who told me he hadn’t adjusted his “meds” yet and therefore was sweating throughout the whole date like he just left a spinning class. But, it is a new year, a new me and blah blah blah. My friends kept pushing me “to get back out there” but I just wasn’t feeling it and then right after new year’s day, on a rainy Sunday with nothing better to do, I start perusing the on line dating sites and after reading 2 profiles that made me laugh out loud, I decided to give this another go.

Shortly after my initial perusing I make a connection with “Bachelor #1.” His profile was funny and smart and it was THE profile that made me hopeful that maybe there were cool guys worth meeting on the interwebs. So I send him a “wink” and he sends me a message. From there we have a lovely exchange of emails and decide we should talk on the phone. Well, HE decides we should talk on the phone. I, on the other hand am not an 8th grade girl anymore and think talking on the phone with someone I don’t know but might want to date is awkward and weird at this stage of my life. But whatevs, maybe this is what the hipster singletons do these days.

We set the date and time of our phone call - which I’m supposed to initiate. Instead, I crack open a bottle of wine and smoke a few puffs from my spliff. Just then my phone rings and it’s my dear friend Brian calling from up north. “Ohmygod Brian! I’m supposed to call this guy I met on line but instead I just got totally baked and now I’m too afraid to call!” Brian has one of the heartiest laughs of anyone I know and as he cackles he says, “Aahh…it’s called self sabotage my dear, I know it well.”

After Brian and I chat for a few, he tells me to go call my future husband so we hang up and I place “the call.” Bachelor #1 answers and we’re both cracking jokes and trying to mask our nervousness. Next thing you know, it’s been over an hour and the conversation is still going strong. We decide we should meet in person. Yay! At this point I only know his first name and what he does for a living. Sooooo, because I’m a master Googler - I Google him & the name of his company and whomp there he is! First and last name found and confirmed. What the hell would we do without the interwebs? Click click click over to Facebook I go and BOOM one mutual “friend” between us pops up. (I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Facebook stalking is IMPERATIVE! http://angiepartyofone.tumblr.com/post/618663604)

Now this “mutual friend” is more of a business associate than a “buddy buddy” kind of friend but it turns out that I will be seeing her at a work event 2 nights prior to my date. I tell myself I’m not going to say anything to her. Just play it cool and go in blind. But after 4 vodka drinks I see her at the bar and say, “omgihavetotalktoyouuuuu.” Not only does she KNOW “Bachelor #1” she is best friends with HIS sister. Holy shit I have hit the mother load. I tell her he seems really funny and smart. He is she confirms. I ask if he’s a player…not at all she tells me. Phew! Awesome.

Although I was anti-phone call in the beginning, we do talk a few more times on the phone before our first date. He’s really good about initiating contact and I like that. With each phone conversation I start to like him more and more. He’s funny and opinionated and he cracks me up with some of the shit he says.

Our date is set for that Friday night. I meet him in NoHo and we go to a Tiki Bar and score a booth. When I take my jacket off his eyes immediately go to my boobs. I wonder what his first impression of them is (they’re kinda small boobs.) But then again, boobs are boobs to guys. Kinda can’t go wrong I guess. We have a great time talking and laughing and I’m really enjoying myself. I’m getting a good vibe, I’m giving a good vibe and all I can think about is the kiss goodnight.

But I never GET a kiss goodnight. I am left dumbfounded and dazed and confused after our date in the fucking valley of all places. When we went to say our goodbyes he bolted. “Alright, thanks, talk to you later” he says and gives me a hug and a quick air kiss on the cheek and then takes off. I am crestfallen. What happened? I thought he was into me. How did I misread the last 2 hours? I drive away and I feel really sad. Fuck this dating thing. I was so much happier just doing my thing and taking a break from guys. What the FUCK?

I notice that he has checked out my profile page 2 days in a row after our date. I decide I am not initiating contact. If he’s interested, he knows how to get in touch with me and then on Sunday night….who calls me? Yep, Bachelor #1. I miss the call and I don’t call him back. I make him wait and I call him on Monday night. The convo is quick because he was working late and I’m pretty sure I’ll never hear from him again, but I do and he asks me on date #2! So what happened after our first date? Did he just panic and get nervous? Must have because he wouldn’t be calling if he wasn’t interested. Right?!

Date #2 is SO much more relaxed than date #1, partly because I had him meet me at my place instead of going to a bar like originally planned. It was a rainy Sunday night. I didn’t feel like trekking out to a bar. We drink a bottle of wine, smoke a joint and then proceed to make out and dry hump on my couch like we’re in 10th grade. It is AWESOME. (Dry humping is so underrated.) He tries to go for my zipper and I stop him. “I want to, but just not yet” I say like an innocent fawn. I purposely didn’t get waxed for this date so I wouldn’t be temped to have a total lapse of judgment and let him take my pants off. (It’s happened.) Wow! Withholding sex is SO powerful! Damn - I should have implemented this strategy years ago!

He texts me the next night and says, “Just wanted to say hi - last night was great!” We text back and forth for a bit and finally I say/text “Well, we should hang out again soon!” and he says, “Sure! I’ll call you and we’ll make a plan.” This response is annoying to me. Let’s just make a plan NOW I think to myself. Between work, motherhood and dating, my week nights are getting booked. If he wants to make a plan, he better hop to it. I have a date with Bachelor #2 on Saturday (more on that later) and I’ve been putting off Bachelor #3 until I know when Bachelor #1 wants to go out again but he didn’t call me tonight and Bachelor #3 is free after Wednesday so it looks like he might get my Thursday, which means Bachelor #1 is going to have to wait until NEXT week.

A very good guy friend of mine told me I need to keep casting my line out into the ocean and that I can’t shut out other opportunities waiting for Bachelor #1. It’s a numbers game he tells me. You can’t think you’re going to get up to bat and hit a home run every time. He’s says I need to up the quantity of dates in order to find the right person. Increase the frequency he tells me, and don’t put too much energy into Bachelor #1. If he doesn’t get how fucking awesome and amazing you are right away, then he doesn’t deserve you anyway. I have to keep telling myself my friend is right. Because he is.

I went from having NO dates over the past few months to having a cluster fuck of dates and now I’m having a hard time managing the schedule. Good problem to have I guess.

Guess who has a date on Friday night? Look out world! Mama is back in the saddle again! (Hopefully.)

I recently made the (possibly bad) decision to go back to on line dating. Today one of my “matches” was this charming fellow whose screen name is “Luvlrgtitts” - yes, you read that correctly - his screen name is LOVE LARGE TITS. We’re off to a great start already! Of course me and my B cups were intrigued and horrified all at the same time and had to read the rest of his profile which eloquently stated the following: 

Why You Should Get To Know Me:

i’m a white guy who likes 2 party & play with woman who have lrge tits im 6’1 brn/blu 8” cut loves to laugh and have fun

More About What I’m Looking For:

big tits and someone who likes to party and play & must like to laugh! 

I wonder who the woman is who reads that and goes, “My soul mate! I’ve found my soul mate!” *Siiiiiigh*