Boredom is the root of all evil

I nixed television many months ago.  When I’m bored and feel like relaxing, I turn to the internet.  After reading some blogs, the news and maybe checking Facebook (which, when you’re my age, is quite boring because it’s all about “my wonderful children” and “my amazing husband” — yeah, right) I head over to Craigslist.  I will look through the jobs section in all the areas I wouldn’t mind living in, just in case my perfect job and next adventure is there for me to find.  Sometimes I look at apartments in those same areas and kind-of daydream about moving away and starting over, again.  Inevitably, I head over to the Men seeking Women section. 

When I was online dating I used to look for guys on those sites.  They would often have a creepy ad in the Casual Encounters section that proclaimed they were not looking for a long-term relationship (LTR) while their OK Cupid or Match ad said otherwise.  Now that I’m not online dating, I will peruse for the fun of it, and you know, just in case my perfect man and next adventure is there for me to find. 

Sometimes I come across an ad that speaks to me so I will reply.  99.9% of the time I’m emailed back a photo of one of the ugliest creatures I have ever seen.  Every once in a while he’s cute, but the emails turn weird and go from intelligent conversation and witty banter to something like, “do you want to meet tonight and maybe cuddle?”  Ewwwwwww. 

Despite all of the weirdness, I did meet my FWB on Craigslist and he is normal, attractive and all that stuff.  He was a pleasant surprise.  I have met one other man on Craigslist who I keep in touch with to this day, even though we met at least five years ago and he lives on the other side of the country.  It keeps my hopes up, I guess.

I don’t know what I’m doing sometimes.  When it comes down to it, I do not want a relationship.  But I get bored and lonely and when I’m laying on the floor watching a movie while cuddling with my dog, it’s just not the same as being held by a man.  I miss that stuff.  Even though I get it to a certain degree with my FWB, I just don’t get it enough.  I know there is a fine line here and I’d love to find that balance. 

Part of this is the weather.  I’m not running as much as I want to or need to, in part because I hate being cold.  I know I’ll warm up while running, but it’s hard to get out there when it’s so cozy in here.  I’ve also been trying to shift my runs to the morning (like 5AM) when I do my workouts the other three days of the week, but it’s not working for me.  My legs feel like someone filled them with cement and I get hungry.  There’s no energy out there that early in the morning for me to feed off of and I hate that.  It plays with my psychologically, as well.  “Why can’t I run three miles?  What’s wrong with me?”  So, I’m shifting my runs back to the evenings twice a week and then whenever on the weekends.  And, I’ve come to the realization that there will be times when I have to run at the gym on the dreaded treadmill.  Despite the nice weather yesterday I went to the gym and it wasn’t that bad.  I did watch the time and it was hot and stuffy, which I hate as much as being cold, but I had a good run and felt energized, so that’s a plus.

Being thankful

Nothing gets you thinking of the past more than the holidays.   

When I was with The Ex, on Thanksgiving we would deal with the chaos of his kids before heading to his parents’ place.  We never spent time at my parents’, only his.  His parents were wonderful, but eating Thanksgiving there was like any other dinner and they never made the food that was tradition in my family, so it never felt quite right.  After dinner, the kids would be hopped up on sugar and usually fighting with each other.  The TV would be blaring the entire time.  And The Ex would spend hours combing through their newspaper for Black Friday deals, ignoring his kids and allowing them to yell, scream and break things.  I always left with a headache. 

After dropping the kids off wherever they needed to be, we’d head home and he would dictate a list of places that I needed to go and things I needed to buy for his kids.  I work for a company that gives us the Friday after Thanksgiving off but despite the six weeks of vacation he is entitled to each year he would never take this day off.  Instead, I would drive around in the bad weather, stand in lines, be abused by cranky soccer moms and deal with the bullshit of Black Friday shopping, all so his kids could have everything they ever wanted, and then some.  I’d go home around 6AM exhausted.  I don’t ever remember a thank you from him, instead he’d say, “They are your kids, too!”  He always told me that, I think so that I’d feel guilty and so he’d never have to say thanks.

Knowing all this, I awoke this morning without the stress of the past.  I worked out, took my pups to the dog park and baked a pie.  I thought about all the things I was thankful for this year: my family, my friends, my great doggies, my health, my job.  I helped my mom cook while sipping a hot buttered rum and my dad said my mom was retarded and we both laughed until we cried.  The food was amazing (like I’d always remembered it) and then I cleaned the kitchen and packed up food for myself for the rest of the weekend.  After lounging around for a bit and almost falling asleep in the recliner, I decided to head home and let the turkey and carbs do their thing and put me to bed. Overall, the best Thanksgiving in years. 

But, on the way home a sense of sadness washed over me.  I guess it — even the chaos and the headaches — had become a part of my life and it felt weird to not be a part of it.  I took the long way home and drove by the house, not to stalk anyone, but just to see if by being there that feeling would go away, as it has before.  Sometimes, if I put myself back in that place, I really remember why I left.  You can’t romantisize reality.  This time, instead of bringing me back to reality, I felt a pull, and at that moment, I really wanted to be held in the arms of a warm, strong man, for a really long time.  I felt the need to have my face buried in a chest, smelling cologne and feeling warm air on the top of my head.  The Ex is an SOB, but for minute I just missed being held by him.  I knew that I could have walked up to the front door, knocked and gotten what I wanted.  But I also knew that would be opening a can of worms that I do not want to open.  I know I’m better off, by about 500%, now than I was back then.  Still, I cried all the way home.

Times like this make me realize how not over the demise of the relatinship I am.  I need to realize this will sting for a long time.  There is still Christmas, my birthday and Valentines Day to get through, so I have to be strong and stay busy, push through and get out the other side.  But, at the same time, I need to stop, feel and react.  I need to understand what I’m feeling, accept it and work through it.  I don’t need to find someone to keep me from feeling the loss, sadness and confusion of my last relationship.  I wasted a lot of time, I allowed some fucked-up things to happen.  I’m not going to let it all be for nothing.  If anything, I’m going to learn from it and really feel it, so I don’t do it again.

And, life goes on

I answered an ad in Craigslist for a FWB the other day and met him over the weekend.  I learned two lessons:

  1. Don’t forget to talk on the phone first to determine whether or not they understand the English language and to find out if they are an asshole.
  2. Ask for a photo where they are smiling and you can see their teeth.

Lessons learned . . . and we’ll leave it at that.

Ironically my FWB and I have seen each other three times over the past month.  Three times!  That’s a record.

I’m so tired of the online dating thing.  I’m just not sure it’s for me.  At least not right now.  One can only take so much disappointment, right?  I kind-of like the old fashioned way of getting to know someone over time and determining whether or not you like them versus deciding in an hour if there is chemistry.  It’s unnatural.

In fact, I threw one of my “temper tantrums” yesterday.  I was looking at all the emails in my OK Cupid account from men who persued then disappeared, men who I hadn’t yet met and who I wasn’t all that excited about, and men I’d met and then (crickets).  Spending all that time emailing, texting and otherwise communicating, then spending an hour or more in person sizing each other up, then . . . nothing.  It just seems disrespectful.  At the very least, we should all receive feedback.  So, I decided t put that thought in motion and email every single person.  My emails went something like this:

  • It was nice chatting with you online.  I’m not really interested in dating right now.  Take care.
  • It was nice meeting you two weeks ago.  I wanted to thank you for the coffee and let you know that I’m not intersted in persuing anything further, and suspect you feel the same.  Have a nice holiday.
  • I hope this finds you well.  I enjoyed spending time with you last month.  I probably would have gone out with you had you asked.  Closure is a good thing.  Take care.

Might I seem crazy, bitter, angry, annoyed?  Don’t care.  I had to get it off my chest.  I did not receive any notable replies.  And with that, my OK Cupid account is now closed as well.

I just don’t need it right now.  Instead, I need to focus on my job and the job search (I’m being head-hunted right now so might as well go with it).  If I get a new job, I will move as I will not commute.  I’m considering moving back to Seattle if the right job were to come along.

I need to focus on my fitness goals.  It’s all coming along, slowly but surely.  I have a half marathon in six months and several other races in 2012 to prepare for.  I’d rather be amazing and single than walk to the finish with my boyfriend.

I need to focus on my best friend who is having one hell of a hard time right now with her family.

I need to focus on what’s going to happen with The Ex come December when he’s supposed to get our house of my name.  We don’t communicate, so who knows what’s going on there.  His girlfriend who may or may not live in my house is a financial mess so she can’t help him and I don’t know if he can do it on his own.

And, finally, I need to focus on just getting through the dark, wet, dreary, depressing Oregon weather.

So where does this leave me with dating?  I’m taking a break from it is all.  I will be back, maybe in the Spring.  Maybe sooner.  I’ve been feeling a little anxious about the future.  I can’t imagine being single at 70.  But I guess I have a long way to go, no sense in worrying about it now.  Right?

Undating

I’m anti-dating these days.  Friday was my last day on Match.  And, I changed up my OK Cupid profile so that men probably won’t contact me.  Yes, I put my “list” up and mentioned a couple things I hate — such as facial hair, fat slobs, and flakes.  That ought to repel the men until I’m ready to get back out there.  I can write a damn good ad, but this will keep me out there while not attracting very many men.  Good?  Bad?  Don’t know, don’t care.

My marathon training is in full swing.  My FWB and I will stick together at least a little longer.  I never know with that guy.  Last I heard he’s potentially moving to Buffalo to take a new job.  Right.

I haven’t given up, just put things on hold.  I’ll check in, get you up to speed, and if I happen to date, I will give you all the run down.  Speaking of running . . .

Quick update

The guy from the other night, the one I liked, has not been in touch.  I guess I was wrong about that hug . . . must’ve been tequila-induced.

The Professor hasn’t been in touch about our date this weekend.  Not sure how that’s going to pan out.

Met a guy yesterday from Match.  He took me to lunch.  He was kinda funny, but I was not attracted.  He kept checking me out, like he was sizing up a steer coming up for bid at an auction.  Ick.

Today is my last day on Match.  I emailed a few of the men I’d been in contact with to let them know about my departure and to give them my personal email.  I don’t feel in the least bit anxious about leaving Match.  If I didn’t have a “what if?” thought in the back of my mind (as in, what if my Mr. Right comes along tomorrow and I miss him by five minutes?) I’d just nix the whole dating scene.  But, I hate wondering “what if?” so I’ll leave myself open to the possibilities.

Attitude adjustment

I re-read my last post, and boy do I sound like a bitch!  I guess I’m just getting tired of the single life.  Not that I’m not happy single, but the part where you’re actively looking for a relationship is just sucky.  It’s depressing, frustrating, and kinda sad.  Not to mention disappointing.  It makes me grouchy.  I really just want to be and let things happen, but it seems like at my age, that’s not an option. 

I will say, I went on a good date last night.  Technically it was a meeting, not a date.  This guy had emailed me and seemed nice, funny, sweet, pretty easy-going and lives near me.  He wasn’t the most attractive guy I’d ever seen and he’s pretty short, and short for me is short.  I decided to go out with him anyway because I had a good feeling about it. 

First, I had a classic blind date moment as I was waiting outside the restaurant/bar for him to show.  I arrived early and was enjoying my heated seat so I decided to wait for him to get there before going in.  Some guy kinda runs in, but it was like a zombie running.  He seemed anxious.  His hair was similar to my date’s and it was dark and rainy.  For a moment I was thinking about cancelling, last minute, telling him some story.  I just didn’t want to deal with another whack-job.  I sat there, contemplating for a minute or two, and the zombie-guy walked out, got into his car and took off.  He wasn’t carrying anything, like a take-out box.  I assumed it was my guy and he got cold feet or something.  I texted him to tell him I was there early (five minutes) and his text said he’d just arrived.  I half-way expected to see the zombie-guy’s car drive back into the lot.  Instead, as I got out of my car, I was approached by my date, who, thank god, was not zombie-guy.

At first, I was slightly disappointed, but he was a complete gentleman, so how could I not enjoy his company.  He was not awkward or nervous.  He was a great conversationalist.  He was polite.  And, he had this boyish way about him that was very sweet, but confident.  I could tell he was gentle, but not a wuss.  And, he looked to be in pretty good shape.  I don’t know if it was him or the tequila, but I had a good feeling.  He hasn’t contacted me to tell me how wonderful I am or to ask for a date, but it’s still early in the day.  I don’t know, the tight hug at the end of the night kinda told me to expect a call, but I could be wrong.