On A Dirty Road...

Hey, Kiddies, so updates, as it has been another long stint without a blog. I should start writing again every single day. Honestly, I should. So, family pictures were yesterday. I looked fab so I am not worrying about them anymore so that is good. May continue being pseudo-veggie for a while in the diet until I can really work on the exercise program again -which could be a while as I don't have a treadmill. Work has sucked hardcore as I was made to switch cubicles with a chatty cathy in our office and my new cube sucks --I am working on making it homey though, we shall see.

Now, in the ever tumultuous world of boys...since the last blog. I did break up with Mr. English -so he is out of the picture. I had dinner with Mr. Emotionally Unavailable/Physically Available and he aside from being totally hot and dropping 25lbs since I saw him last, has become Mr. Physically Unavailable. Sucktastic. The ever wonderful Nerd Prince is still around being my best guy friend, as usual. However, the breaking news is that I have a date with a new guy. New guy sent me an e-mail on the pay site and it said, "I would love to take you to dinner". This is a nice switch as it did not say "meet you for dinner" or "see you someplace for dinner"....it said "TAKE you to dinner". Which implies good things about the fact that he enjoys traditional gender roles and might reach into his wallet once in a while for me. I like that.

I may date and talk like a dude most of the time, but what I am looking for is someone to take the reins here. Sure I can drive, because I have to all the time, but I want someone who will be the man -that would be very nice. He has thus far said some really cute stuff. He says my smile is beautiful and said that he likes that I am 'spunky' in my e-mails. So, I decided to give him a shot. I said I would go and get something to eat with him and then left if open so he could pick. We seem to have opposite schedules right now as I work days and he says he works nights. It was a first date and kind of a little girl test --I wanted to see what he was gonna do. Well, he...didn't do so hot. So, I am showing up to a first date at....wait for it, it's worth it.....MacDonalds. No, that's okay, please, have a good laugh about it.

I wish you could see the eye-rolling disappointment this caused. I mean, come the fuck on, try just a little harder than that douchebag. So, I'm gonna wear what I would normally wear on a first date, which should be at the very least Perkins, and really should be coffee or a nice impressive dinner at Lazlo's. Shit. It would be important that he knows he took an Lamborghini out on a dirt road. He is a bit older, but not as old as Mr. English (although his emotional age was like 12). He seems okay looking from the pictures and has the potential to be a fairly good match, but we shall see. I am just done being fooled by these ridiculous mirages of men. This fails and I may have to just buy a bike to buddy back up to Mr. EU/PA so I can ride him for a while.

These bad dates are taking a serious toll on my sex drive--which is simply dying from non-use at this point- so it's becoming more a long scenic drive alone in the car. I am getting to where I just don't even want it anymore. What is the use of being fabulously dirty, spectacularly knowledgeable about technique, and fantastically creative in bed if no one really wants to participate with you in that activity? Sigh.

Dating Danger!

Okay, so to clarify, this resilience thing gets easier the more I do it. Plus, this last one was really kind of expected, so not bad at all really. I was in a bad place when I went to bed, I'm in a better one having gotten some sleep on it. Not a big deal. Still no communication at all, of any kind, from Mr. English. Still doing okay. Awakened to tornado sirens last night and went to the basement with the roomies. House is fine, I am fine.

The interesting part was that about 11:15pm I got another e-mail from Mr. No Show. It was a second invitation for a meeting of some kind at a hotel across town at nearly midnight. I got it on the phone as I was in the basement hanging with the roomies. I kind of laughed and told them this was the second one and T pipes up, "It sounds like he's married." Hmmm. Now, I thought they were creepy and weird, but I had not considered at this point that that was a very good reason for his never showing or doing this kind of thing. I totally bet he is married. Yuck. It also occurred to me that it was....dangerous. Like a less smart girl or girls who are, in fact, desperate for love and affection might have actually just jumped in the car and headed to the Country Inn to be smacked over the head and sold into white slavery. Luckily, for me, I am neither. Although, I will admit it is flattering and in the mood I was in -it was kind of exciting and a bit tempting. That is what shall ever be known as the Dating Dangerzone (thank you, Kenny Loggins and Archer).

The Dating Dangerzone occurs when a normally smart, practical girl falls into the traps of dating. If you really love yourself, the way you should, that will eliminate 75% of dating pitfalls immediately. There are still some clever holes that might catch you, but for the most part your friends will warn you way before you fall for them. Boys lying is inevitable and unavoidable so they make up the other 24%, along with the slim chance you can lose yourself and go relationship blind. But, dating dangerzone is when you make a decision knowing it's stupid, not what normal people would do. No man who loves you would try to lure you for a first date to a hotel. None. Those are bad men. No man who loves you would ever alienate you from your friends or family. No good man would abuse you verbally or physically. Good men never take without giving something back to you. Bad men make you less, but a good man makes you more.

While the Dating Dangerzone can be exciting (that's for you ladies who love the bad boys), eventually it will put you down, in some manner. They say love is a game --in games there are winners and losers, that is just how it goes. If you're losing, be smart enough to walk away from the table before you lose something important, so you can come back and play again. Sometimes you get lucky, but really it is just better to play smart and learn as you go. With that said, I would really like to get lucky sometime here soon. :)

Something So Broken....

I am a little less than happy to have to post this one. However, sometimes things are simply necessary not pleasant and this is one of those things. So, in the spirit of wanting something we just can't have. I tested a theory this weekend. It needed tested. I'm a Dating Scientist and no one and I mean no one is safe from that. So, that is the ominous set up for a rather anticlimactic story.

You know when things are quiet...like too quiet. Well, things in the kingdom of the Nerd Prince were peaceful and quiet. I've been blogging for months about how much I liked him as a wonderful strong constant in my less than spectacular dating life. With the graveyard of possible dating candidates rising up under my feet I decided to try to climb to higher ground. I gave it some real thought too because although I make the Nerd Prince out to be a bloody saint --he really is not. He has huge flaws just like every other guy on the planet and I had to reexamine if I was cool with accepting those. Things about him that would never change or that I could not change. After some deep thoughts about it, I decided I could handle them. I had even decided to possibly change myself to be a bit more of what he might like. I can do that. Then I made a plan.

On Friday night I implement this plan. I set myself out like a beautiful, drunken banquet, a consequence free tryst...if he wanted it, certainly the approach was wide open. And in this lies the despair of it, for the third and final time, he did not want it, did not want me. Now, there was a 50% chance of a "no", but it was still not entirely anticipated. Really, can one ever truly prepare for rejection? He did it in the sweetest way possible (which is rather his trademark, I'm afraid), but the message was very plain. You go your way and I'm going mine, without you. Ahhh, I see. I understand, but I don't have to like it. This does not mean we are not going to see each other, it doesn't even mean that we aren't friends anymore, we still are, but it does mean there will be no more flirting and about as much chance of a romantic rekindling as I have of winning the lottery. It means the metaphorical door is closed and shall remain so....so I had better start hunting outside of his castle to find some kind of home.

I long desperately for a home. Someplace I can walk into and set down this pulverized mush that is what is left of my heart and feel complete. I would also like to mention that Mr. English is so into me that he has not answered either e-mail or text since Tuesday. I was thinking of breaking up with him, but really I think we shall just stop talking and whatever "something special" we had bleed out into the ether. Wow, such interest. I must have stomped too hard upon the ground as the clattering skeletons of former lovers have stopped asking to rattle my bones. Which, just to be clear, only adds to my current black mood. There is no hope to cling to, he simply told me to be strong and shoved me off a cliff to see if I can fly. I am not sure I will ever understand how I can hate all men and want them so badly at the same damn time, life's great oxymoron.

So, the real questions is, if I hover here like a hummingbird or just fly away.

ZomBie Dating Month

And we're back from the break with a whole 'nother slew of scatterbrained dating problems. You know I always thought that I might take all these ridiculous blogs and put them in a book -but it's kind of Sex in the City and kind of Bridgette Jone's Diary and that makes it kind of like already done. Plus, it's all Midwest and as I understand it coastal peoples hate that crap. Secret: It's because they are jealous of our flat, brown land.

So, I have dubbed April as Zombie Dating month as there were several resurrections -sadly not involving erections of any kind. Mr. No Show e-mailed me the creepiest e-mail ever asking that I meet him at a hotel room on North 27th -for our first date mind you. So, I put two in the head to make sure it was dead on that one and walked away. Never talking to him again. Ever. In more pleasant news I have also had two nice conversations with Mr. EU/PA -who sadly has been rather physically unavailable, but I'm not changing his title just yet. I really did like him even if he is an a$$hole and will remain one. Plus, he is fun to flirt with and I know if I can ever get to where I can see him, he would let me in his pants again, so there is that. Fun...anyway....

The Nerd Prince is still around, still riding in to save my bacon and make me happy in his way, every single day. He is as I told the bestie, "as usual putting all the men I date to shame." She called him the 1%, in reply. I have been on the brink several times of just jumping back in and begging him to be my man. I never tire of him, and this is the problem. Eventually I would tire of all of them -I can already tell. It's the minor eye rolling when they are being absolutely stupid and the suppression of my natural instincts around them that tell me it won't work. With him it's not like that -we have gone passed that to comfortable in each other presence -it recharges my batteries to be near him. And that is scarier than zombies. That "what if" I blew it with the perfect guy? What if I have to watch him move on? He is my friend, my charger, mine damn it. And the world simply can not have him back. Nope, not gonna do it. Everybody just step away from him, unless you want to deal with me. Gawd damn, no sex friend zone. F-F-F

And speaking of not getting any. Mr. English is still around. Yeah, I know I said I was gonna break up with him, but on the night I was gonna do it he took me to Cracker Barrel. And I friggin' love Cracker Barrel. I am after all a cracker. So, I couldn't go through with it --so as usual I dug the hole deeper as he is the only play I am getting at all. I went on another date after that and after messing around I asked him to be my BF. I think it's a big honor. He did not. He said, "I gotta mull it over." Which sent me into a frenzy of anger and disappointment. Huge disappointment.

So, now I get to choose if I want to straight up break up with him or like a flasher in a parking lot, just throw open the trench coat and show him all my huge flaws that I have been protecting him from. Bam -I suck at keeping to a budget. I want sex all the time and I don't wait for you. Pow -I don't clean, at all, my room is a huge mess. Crack -I go crazy on my period. Bam - I drink and smoke and enjoy both of them. Pow -I can eat a Big Mac in like ten seconds flat and fluctuate about ten pounds in two weeks all the time. Up/Down that is just how it is.  OR I could just be honest and say I sometimes don't like how he talks down to me, that  I might just want to have kids, and that he is moving too slow for me. Because all that stuff is true and not as overwhelming as the personal flaws would be. Hmmm, I'm gonna have to mull it over, I think.

Here Comes A Fighter....

Things seem okay. It's the same deal everyday, take a loan from dirty sharking angels to pay that huge tab in hell. The circle always comes around and round. I am learning to love it. Because I got tired of being crushed daily under the weight of paperwork and monotony. Looking for love makes me shameless, and being a number willingly makes me nameless. But, suddenly I wake up momentarily look up at the florescent above that computer screen and recall that I am special, spontaneous --a fucking joy to the lives I touch. And in that special forever second it's overwhelming how marvelously high and powerful I feel right then. Then just like that, it's gone again and I am sitting there wondering how I got there and what I was doing.

But, that moment of clarity is worth it. So, very worth it, that you spend your life grasping for it. It's what keeps ya going, moving forward, fighting onward. Beautifully wearing those puckering scars for everyone to see. "Yeah, look at me, I live." I am an honest representation of a human being. It makes me laugh.

I am a lady.  The penultimate of feminine strength, goodness, and loveliness. And no, you may not drag me down to where you are --it will ruin my shoes. So, if you fuck with me, I will stomp on you and use you as step stool to get back up, to rise once more, so I can shine for the people who need my light. I have to shine bright because this place is dark. I am needed like a lighthouse. I am brilliant like the sun for everyone to see. And the sun never goes out --it may go down, but still there. Waiting to warm you with my love, to sparkle your vampires, bring up your flowers, and make you sweat sweetly.

So, I don't care if you want to be my boyfriend. I am feeling good, dancing in my underwear, jumping up and down. Feeling sexy. I am appreciated like a walking work of art by everyone who sees me. The jiving imperfection of asymmetry is beauty if you shake it just right. Wink it just so it shimmers like light babies bouncing across water. Perfection is passe, I have graduated into the talent of striking peculiarity with a dash of humor and a ream of confidence. So, I am waxing my legs poetic tonight, smoking conventions in the bathtub of frothing jealous bubbles and oily gossip. Maybe tomorrow a normal blog....if I feel like it.