Yesterday I drove nearly four hours to a job interview, which meant I was up at 5AM. I was nervous as hell as I want this job really, really bad, and it was my final interview for the position. I was placed in front of eight people in real-time and one over video-conference for two-and-a-half hours of interogation questions. I can’t say that I nailed each question 100% but I nailed at least 90% of them. The group was actually quite nice and collectively had a great sense of humor. The first 15 minutes were tough but after that it was smooth sailing with a couple minor glitches here and there.

As soon as that was through, I got back in my car to drive another nearly four hours back home to attend a giant retirement party. All of the socializing and yelling over the music was exhausting on top of the drive and the interview. Somehow I woke up this morning and made it to work earlier than usual. I’m looking forward to getting out of here (I’m not getting any work done, obviously), slipping into my pjs, and laying on the sofa while eating some carbs in front of a couple good DVDs.

I hope to hear about the position late next week. Keep your fingers crossed for me! If this one does not pan out, I am still waiting for a potential call-back for another one and I just heard about a position opening up locally. The other local position is not something I want. Long story, but just glad I figured it out before taking a position there.

My Original FWB is still driving around aimlessly and camping at random places trying to get through his break-up or whatever. Cutie and I have been in touch briefly but nothing about getting together. So, that’s good because I’m not quite ready to make that decision anyway. However, when Cutie popped back into my life it got me thinking about sex. I haven’t had sex in over two months! Naturally, I re-opened my AFF profile. Why be lonely and sex-free until I meet someone special? Since I’m completely giving up online dating when my subscription expires in a month or so, this “meeting someone special” deal could take awhile! Might as well take advantage of the opportunity while I still can — that’s how I see it.

Speaking of online dating, I think I have a meeting tomorrow. But, whatevs . . . And, someone decent contacted me on despite my nasty profile. I’m not sure what that means.



This internet dating thing certainly . . . blows. I can’t get past a first date to save my life and can’t even find someone decent enough to text/email me afterward to tell me they aren’t interested. That leaves me wondering if they think I was not interested in them? Or are they simply not interested in me? Probably the latter so I always just let it go, but in the back of my mind I do wonder. I wonder because I’ve been accused of not seeming interested as I can come across as indifferent. That being said, I know that if a man is interested in seeing you again he will let you know.

I’m not the thinnest person out there. I’m not the prettiest. I’m not the youngest. Online dating is catalog-like and the next page will always reveal someone “better”. Unfortunately, the pages are endless. I guess the same goes for the available men but I don’t think women are wired the same way. I’m not anyway. For an average woman like me it seems like it will always be a futile lesson. How many times have I wondered why he looked me over but is now going out with a woman with three young kids and an impossible ex, a woman with mental problems, a woman working for minimum wage at the age of 40, a woman who is bankrupt, or a woman who is a bitch? Because he is more physically attracted to her than he is to me. I can be all kinds of wonderful, but it doesn’t matter because there will always be someone better on the outside.

I never in a million years thought that I would end up single. I’ve never been single! This is the longest stretch since I started having boyfriends in high school. I guess over the past 13 months I’ve had two FWBs (Cutie and Original FWB) and I did date someone briefly (Runner). And, for the most part I did take myself out of the dating pool. I haven’t been at it for long, I know, but it’s still a disappointment. I also feel like it’s taking away from the rest of my life. The investment has not yielded any returns except a loss of productivity, some weight gain (5 lbs!), and a bad attitude.

If I were to analyze myself, I would say that my issue lies in the fear of the unknown and the lack of control one has when it comes to relationships with others. I can pour myself into exercise and work and I will see positive results. I can pour myself into dating and be disappointed every time. I feel like once I declare that I’m ready for a relationship, and once I put in 100%, one should happen with ease. I’m not used to this lack of success because I can put my mind into anything and obtain it. But, I realize dating doesn’t work that way which makes it frustrating and a tough pill for me to swallow.

I think the answer is for me to take my focus off dating for awhile and focus on what I can control. At the moment, I don’t know if that means being passive or hiding my profiles, but I will figure it out in the coming days. When I think back or read past blogs, I am at my happiest when I am single. Right now I need to focus on that and maybe it means that I’m still not ready to date?

Diet: Fewer dates means fewer restuarants and more time to focus on preparing and cooking good meals. I have 20 lbs I’d like to lose and diet is 80% of the weight loss.

Exercise: When I was married to my workout and running schedules men became annoyed with me and my lack of flexibility and claimed I did not have time for dating. I start my early morning workouts next week and I’m back to my regular running schedule as of yesterday. This means a strict bedtime and lack of availability. More working out also means a happier me. Hopefully it will lift me out of this funk I’m in. [Sidenote: It fucking pisses me off that man expects me to rock an amazing body yet is annoyed or pissed when I have to call it a night at 9pm because I have to get up early for a workout or I’m not available because I have a scheduled run. I just have to say FUCK YOU!]

Work: I’ve been focusing so much on men — thinking about them, texting them, emailing them, working on my profile, reading online dating coach websites, writing about dates in my blog — that I haven’t been focused at work. My work is not suffering (yet) but my productivity is and that makes me feel shitty.

Other Things: Do I want to stay in this city? My career? I’m not sure. I am starting to look around at other opportunities in other cities. I started last week and have three interviews lined up. All three would provide a career and financial upgrade. Two of them are in another city not too far away. One is something local that I’ve been working on for nearly five months that I hope will come to fruition.

Prison pussy – I am not a fan

For those of you not in the know:

A “prison pussy” is a configuration of facial hair which surrounds a man’s mouth (also known as a “goatee”). This ironic term is intended to insult a man who thinks his well-trimmed facial hair makes him look tough. The overt implication of the term is that men in prison would use his mouth like a vagina. This insult is especially powerful when it is spoken by a woman.

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?

Round and round

This dating thing is sort of like doing the same thing over and over again, just with different people.  I love meeting new men and most of the guys I agree to go out with are interesting, intellectual, intelligent (the “three i-s” apparently), nice and very much gentlemen.  But, as I mentioned in my last post, what’s missing is the attraction.  I have been unattracted to a few of my dates, but certainly not repulsed, yet I haven’t met anyone I want to kiss, touch or sleep with.

I met another guy from a dating site this afternoon.  His profile photos did not show a particularly handsome man, but he was in good shape.  I don’t have a type and sexual attraction is a funny thing for me.  It happens when least expected.  He was the “three i-s” and upon meeting, a perfect gentleman.  We met at the museum, he bought my ticket, and we wandered around.  It was fun and we managed to talk quite a bit. He held doors open, pulled out my chair, and bought me a drink afterward.  You could tell this is just what he did. It wasn’t an act.

However, he was very . . . Portland.  We’re talking roommate (he’s 40), not sure if he has a car, dressed like a slob but clean and purposefully cut off from anything main stream with the exception of a cell phone.  But, I get the feeling that there is more than meets the eye with him because he is also a business man and is from New Jersey, and after talking to him, he seems more well-rounded than he looks.  So, if he calls me again, I will give him another chance.  He had lovely hands. Weird, but true. He seemed to like me, but my pressed jeans, boots, Ann Taylor sweater, preppy rain coat, Coach purse and brand-new car may have turned him off and I might not be his type either.

After our meeting I headed to another part of town to meet my BFF to help her pick out new bedding for her room. We went to dinner and then I headed off to meet my FWB who I hadn’t seen for about a month, which is pretty much on par for us.  We went through our normal routine of molesting each other before I have my coat off, running to his room to fuck our brains out, then laying in bed for a couple hours catching up.

Things went awry for my BFF and her FWB recently.  It was a long-time relationship of over a year, but less consistent than my relationship, as they were both dating and trying to get into relationships with other people.  My FWB is not interested in a relationship so he’s not pursuing anything, and I’m kind-of in the same boat, though I’m being more open than he is and frankly, I’m still asking myself why (but that’s another story for another day).  I’m sure if something fell in his lap he’d be all over it, but he couldn’t be busier and adding more to his plate each time I see him.  Anyway, my FWB and I don’t talk about what we’re doing, so I wanted to make sure that we’re cool because I really like him as a person and I don’t want things to go sour.  I probably couldn’t stand hanging out with him for too long, which is why he’s not relationship material in my eyes (plus he’s never managed to have a relationship over a couple months) but that’s beside the point.  I’m not his type because I didn’t go to law school, I’m divorced and I have a dog.  Talk about picky . . .

After we were dressed, I asked him if he thought what we are doing is weird. He said he didn’t know because he’d never done it before.  I was surprised, but pretended not to be.  He’s really quite innocent. “It works for us though, don’t you think?”, I asked.  He said it did and I believe him.  He told me an ex-girlfriend of his friended him on Facebook and that she looked old and fat.  I asked if she had a kid.  He said no.  I asked if she got married.  He said yes.  “That’s what happens when you get married”, I told him.  “I don’t ever want to get married”, he said.  I told him, “This is perfect then because no one is going to get fat.”  He laughed and we kissed good-bye.

My date from last night still hasn’t contacted me.

Why I need to get out of this town

I went to Fourth Thursday last night. The web definition is:

Every last Thursday of each month,  Alberta St. turns into a public art show with booths that line the street from NE 14th to NE 31st. You might see some DJ’s on the corner sidewalk shaking beats well into the night, maybe even a few fire walkers, street performers or the March Fourth marching band throwing down great grooves for all to enjoy.

It’s basically like going to a square on NYC, maybe in Chelsea, except the people of Portland try too hard to be different, artsy, whatever.  You can see them looking around like, “Whose watching me be funky right now!?  Look everyone!  I’m dressed in a gnome costume!  And, I’m dancing . . . in the middle of the street!  OMG, who does that?!  I do!  I’m weird and different!”

I’m more of a live and let live, mind your own business type of person, so I’m not a big people-watcher by nature.  And, I find it much more interesting when people are just being for the sake of being, not for the purpose of gaining attention or purposefully being different.  Plus, I’ve been around and seen a lot of stuff, so maybe I’m desensitized.  It was fun and all, and nice to be out of my little bubble for awhile.

Being on the prowl, I was, of course, scouting the place out for guys, and I was deeply disturbed by the was the lack of decent men.  Disturbed, but sadly, not surprised.  Skinny jeans, skinny jeans cut-offs, fat (not chubby — we’re talking sloppy here), goatees (aka the prison pussy), thrift shop clothing (the obvious “Look at me!  I shop at Buffalo Gap!  I’m so cool and sustainable!” kind) and really just a lousy selection.

After a bite with friends I went home and hopped online before bed.  Finally, a message from (I’m not having a lot of luck there)!  In the body of his email, he admitted that he failed my requirements and wanted me to guess which ones.  It didn’t take long . . . he was 5’6″ tall and probably in the 300+ lb range.  He had a major prison pussy, too.  Seriously?

Sigh . . .

OK, so I’m being totally down on Portland, and really, it’s a great city in many ways, but the more time I spend here, the more I miss the east coast (and the men on the east coast).  I’m frustrated.  And, let’s face it, I’m not a good fit here.  I’ve known that for a long time.  And now, I just need to do something about it — either learn to love it or get the hell out of town.