He's Really Not Into You

“Don’t spend your time on and give your heart to any guy who makes you wonder about anything related to his feelings for you.” – Greg Behrendt, He’s Just Not That Into You

So I’ve been doing the dating thing for a little over a month now. It feels like a freaking full-time job, and an unpleasant and exhausting one at that. I keep telling myself someone will make this all worth it eventually.

I had previously mentioned my involvement with my neighbor and how fond I had grown of him and his little girl. He had been increasingly distant in the weeks that followed that post. I don’t pretend to know why.  Then came the dreaded words: It’s not you, it’s me. Oh. My. God. He refused to offer any other explanation. Ouch. I thought that was a line that was conjured up in middle school when we simply grew tired of the other person and wanted to move on. And the little girl – I’ve seen her once since then, just last night. She was looking for her cat. There wasn’t an excited greeting or hug.  She looked at me like she didn’t even know me. I felt like a dagger had been thrown at the center of my chest. I’ve missed her. I don’t know what her father has told her – I don’t even know if this is a common occurrence in this young girl’s life – I just know that life feels emptier without her.

I suspect this is what he really meant, but was just too cowardly to have a face to face discussion with me.

I’m angry because I feel like my neighbor used her as a pawn to get my attention and I’m hurt because I know she won’t be a part of my life anymore, and I had no choice in the matter. It’s not really him that I was attached to, it was her. I miss the impromptu playdates, dance offs, and bows. I miss her excitement when she saw me come home in the afternoon and the immediate hugs. That’s just not my life anymore.

She literally had my heart the second she put her tiny hand in mine. 

So I move on because I don’t want to waste my energy on crying over it. There’s nothing I can do to change it . . . .  and once the waterworks start they just won’t stop. For now I’m telling myself to be grateful that it happened sooner than later. He showed his true colors and I didn’t become more enmeshed in her life. That would have devastated me.

I’ve moved on to other distractions. I’m still biking on a regular basis. That’s proven to be a good thing for me. I feel invigorated when I get to work and at the end of the day anything that bothered me is gone because I’ve exerted every last ounce of frustrated, angry energy on bike pedaling. I’m getting stronger, too – it’s worth it.

Channel the rage, Lass. It will go away eventually. 

Life has blessed me with some truly wonderful people. I’ve mentioned my tango friend before – the one who encourages me to get out because he knows I have a tendency to draw into myself. While it’s tempting to do that, I know it’s not healthy, and I’m grateful to have the luxury of knowing someone is in my corner and looking out for my best interests.

 Last week my friend convinced me to play volleyball with a handful of other dancers. It’s been a blast. They call it ‘laughter therapy’. That’s an accurate description. I think ‘rage therapy’ works as well. I had no idea that I was so competitive until I started playing with them – and volleyball is something I haven’t done in over a decade. I never have a voice the entire day afterwards because I spend my entire time yelling at my opponents, hurling insults and cursing in general. My only complaint is that I’ve somehow managed to jam my toe two weeks in a row and today in particular it hurts quite a bit . . . . but I work at a hospital, so I’ve got my bases covered. J

We mean business. 

The online dating saga continues. I made up my mind after my experience with my neighbor that I am so done with older men. Seriously. If he’s more than ten years my senior I want absolutely nothing to do with him. Does this prevent older men from contacting me? Absolutely not. I had someone sending me messages in his 50s. Why?! When he asked me to meet him for drinks I asked him what his intentions were and made it openly known that I was not interested in being someone’s plaything. He responded that it was obvious that I have wounds to heal and he does not . . . . Dude, I think the fact that you’re trying to get in the pants of someone less than half your age speaks volumes about your issues.

Sure I have issues. At least I am honest about them and don't deflect mine to the rest of the world.

I’ve met a handful of guys in person. One really was a pleasant surprise. I’m not sure if we’re a good match, but he did not bore me to hell and back like I initially thought he would . . . and I also turned out to not be the stuck up snob he thought I might be. Our conversation went something like this, “You carry weapons? Me, too! Let’s see if we fight to the death!” I exaggerated that a bit. We just had more in common than I thought. I also very much appreciate that he has respected my statement that I need patience. I don’t warm up to people right away. He doesn’t go for a hug unless I offer. Bonus points for you, guy.

I draw a pretty clear line in the sand. Anyone who tries to blur my boundaries gets nixed. Just don't do it!

On the flip side, there’s the touchy feely types and excessively clingy and needy in general. One bragged about his stellar kissing abilities . . . . . and then he tried to lick my damn face off and plunge his tongue down my throat. My face felt like a toilet. I’m also wary of men who claim that we share a strong connection when I sure as hell don’t feel it and men that use pet names like ‘sweet baby’, ‘darling’, ‘sugar’ or anything along those lines without being a close friend makes me feel like throwing punches. It takes me a while to retract my talons and I really have no rhyme or reason as to why that gets under my skin, I only know that it does. Lastly, there was the guy that seemed genuinely surprised that I actually looked like my photos and yet spent the entire time checking out every other female that walked past him. What the hell? 

A walk in the park with the hound. He was pretty much doing this the whole time. He's just not that into you!  He did ask me out to dinner today. I told him I just don't feel a connection - because there obviously isn't one.

On more than one occasion I’ve been asked what I’m looking for. It took me a while to put it in words, but I think it’s something along these lines: I’d like to find someone to share life with, but I don’t want him to be my life – and I don’t want to be his, either. Maybe our paths will blend more as time goes on and we find similar interests and things we enjoy doing together. I don’t want someone to waltz in and completely unhinge my life by taking me away from things that are meaningful to me and try to mold me into something I’m not. He has to adore my dog because I adore my dog. He needs to be patient with me because I have a tendency to be skittish and can feel like a caged animal if he moves too fast for my comfort zone. I need to take my time to get to know him.

I'm also playing for keeps. I'd like to get it right this time.

What amazes me about my stance on dating is that most men are surprised by my answer. It’s as if they’re expecting me to say I’m looking for my soul mate, I am looking for the ‘one’ to make my life complete, yadda, yadda, yadda. Have we become a society of parasite that feed off of one another because we’re so starved for attention and insecure in our own lives? Heavens! That’s why I took a break from dating in the first place. I needed to be comfortable with who I am and where I am in life. I needed to learn to love myself. I needed to learn to quit attracting the wrong kind of person into my life.

There are a couple of men who have caught my eye. I have yet to meet them in person . . . . and I’m really in no rush, either. I’m mostly looking forward to a summer of biking, dancing, volleyball and the hound. These are happy things for me and life feels complete as it is. 

I'll always be evolving, but that doesn't change my sense of fulfillment. 

True Character

“Character is doing the right then when nobody’s looking. There are too many people who think that the only thing that’s right is to get by, and the only thing that’s wrong is to get caught.” – J.C. Watts

Someone told me once that there’s always one; and by that she meant that one person who doesn’t quite fit in the office dynamics and causes chaos and drama wherever he or she sets foot. I have one. I’ve known her true nature for some time now: someone who takes jabs at you when her superiors aren’t looking and then smiles and laughs it off as if to say, Who cares what I just said?! Listen to my cute laugh. How could you possibly be angry? Not only the jabs, but not a very approachable person, either. If she has offended you, one cannot simply approach her to discuss the matter because her feelings are the only feelings that matter and f*ck you for ever thinking differently.  

As I’ve known this about her, I’ve vented once to my manager because I was on the verge of ripping her condescending head from her condescending throat. Lately the infection of her smugness and sense of self-righteousness has been spreading as she causes one more dramatic event after another. I was very frustrated at first because I’ve always been good at connecting with and understanding people. She has always been an enigma to me. However, I now see that the problem was never me to begin with and I’m simply watching the circus act unfold on the sidelines. I guess the moral of this story is don’t try pretend to be something you’re not because your true colors show eventually and there’s no way to get around that.

On the topic of people that confuse me, I’ve crossed paths with several lately. One is my landlord’s soon to be 14-year-old daughter. I wanted to do everything I could for her – but quite honestly I don’t know what I can do. The poor thing is a hot mess and I had no idea teenagers could be so . . . devious. I was never that way and I guess that’s why I don’t understand. I think sometimes you just have to throw your hands up and be done with it. My intentions were genuine and good, but I realized early on that nothing good would come from my befriending this young lady because she hasn’t been honest with me and has tried to take advantage of my good nature. You’re too young for this kind of behavior!!! That’s all I can say about it.

I think sometimes a person needs to recognize when there are toxic sources in their life and cut those people out. No, it’s not easy. Sometimes you’ve known these people for what seems like a lifetime and even though you care for them, their presence has done more harm than good.  Sometimes you desperately want to help them and see them thrive in life, but know deep down there’s nothing you can do. I had to dismiss someone from my life recently. Even though he had helped me in countless ways, ultimately his presence did more harm than good and once he was gone I slowly began to feel better and suddenly life felt easier, despite how stressful life feels from time to time.

"Toxic people will pollute everything around them. Don't hesitate. Fumigate." - Mandy Hale

I stumbled across an article recently that described ‘hipster’ food and I nearly panicked when I thought, Dear God! I’m slowly turning into one of them! Kale: check. Kombucha: check. Mason jars: check . . . . I could keep going, but I’m still in a state of denial. In my defense, I have never enjoyed PBR and think that anyone who actually likes is a hipster indeed and also a fan of camel piss - because that’s what it tastes like.

My transformation isn't fully complete because I'm not here yet. 

While in this state of denial I’ve also joined the cycling community of Portland – and by joining I mean that I’ve done it once so far. In fact, it was just yesterday. The ride in wasn’t too bad. It’s 11 miles one way because I live so much farther away from work now. I know that not many of the devoted commuters where I work do more than 5 miles round trip. Why? Because they obviously make more and can afford to live closer. So, 22 mile round trip on my first try. Crazy? You bet. It’s gets crazier. Things were going smoothly on my way back home until I got about half way there, and then all hell broke loose.

I thought I had a genius idea by using the navigation app on my phone with the bicycle setting because I haven’t explored Portland enough to really know what I’m doing and rely too heavily on my navigation smart phone app. The phone outsmarted me because the damn thing started freaking out just as I was getting to mid SE Portland. It had me going in circles and instructed me to cut through Mt. Tabor park before I turned it off and said I’m SO done with you, Smart Phone! I thought for sure I’d died and awoken to the worst form of hell because all I could think about was getting back to my hound because he was probably lonely and hungry.

I just wanted to get back to my Sweet Boy. 

After dragging my bicycle up a very steep path at Mt. Tabor Park, coming out the other side and finally stumbling across another human being I desperately asked them to please point me in the direction in which street numbers start getting bigger. I kept following that direction until I found a familiar rode and made it home. That trip should have taken me an hour – instead it took me three. So, what should have been a 22 mile round trip was an easy 40 wrought with steep hills and foot baths in a freaking nature park. Why? WHY have I never learned a sense of direction?! Irish Lass-0, Smartphone-1.

That seems to be the general attitude among the regular cyclists. I refuse to conform to smugness. Quit talking to me with your eyes closed! 

For the record, the Irish Lass is tenacious and I’ll be back at it again in no time. While I’d love to take a ride out this weekend with ample time to figure it out, I have too many commitments, again . . . . Big Surprise! It looks like there’s absolutely nothing next weekend, so I’m going to take one of those ‘I don’t care who you are or what you need’ stances I keep saying I’d like to do and do whatever the hell I want in my beautifully accumulated free time.

Actually . . . can I go here instead of biking? This would really be better for my health. 

I’m hoping I can handle tango tonight. I decided yoga was a good idea yesterday before I made a ride home that took me a million hours. I’m sore all over and have come to the conclusion that I have two very important requirements for a significant other: big hands to massage my shoulders and a hot tub. Of course, there are other requirements, but those two are now mandatory. 

REQUIRED!! In the meantime I have my muscle rub.