Remember, Remember The Month of September

“When you get into a tight place and everything goes against you, till it seems as though you could not hold on a minute longer, never give up then, for that is just the place and time that the time will turn.” – Harriet Beecher Stowe.

There are times in life when it’s just plain hard to look up, despite how much you desperately want to. Sometimes it’s just not easy to see the positive or the good. I think that would about sum up the events of this last month. I feel as though I’m hanging on by a thread and so help me if one more thing goes wrong I may crack. Seriously. This month has given me a royal beating. 

Okay, September. I surrender. I raise my white flag to you.

My car broke again. My bike broke on me like three times in the span of three weeks. It’s still broken because I had so many other extra expenses pertaining to the hound, my own medical bills, etc. I’m also f*cking turning 30 in like 3 days and admittedly having a bit of a meltdown about it. I’m asking myself why I don’t have my act together. What’s wrong with me? Why did I never accomplish what I thought I would at this juncture in life?

Then the wonderful guy I was dating realized he just wasn’t emotionally ready for anything beyond friendship. His timing is horrid, but that’s just life, isn’t it? I’m very sad about it – because I thought finally someone good had come into my life and it’s been a very long time since I’ve had a good and kind person by my side. I understand where he’s coming from but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. In fact, I think it hurts more because he’s so wonderful. Heck, I’ve been there before as well. I initiated something and realized emotionally I just wasn’t in it and I probably hurt him. I think he was a much bigger person than I was when it happened to me. I broke my moral compass regarding speaking out of anger and said a lot of terrible things. He didn’t deserve that. No one deserves that. I can admit when I’m wrong and have done as much. He doesn’t think any less of me and I’m certain that’s more than I deserve. I think the next time something like this happens I need to flee into the wilderness and cut off any form of communication from the world so I don’t lash out.  I think dating needs to be tabled for a while. I have too many other stressors in life and I think I need to let my wounds heal from this experience.

He was chivalrous, kind, intelligent and witty. His smile embodied that warmth he gave to others. 

Again I have to remind myself what got me here where I am now: just plain not thinking things through. I thought I could handle a place with no kitchen. It’s not just about that anymore, but my own personal safety. There is no sense of boundaries, really. Just over the weekend I had my landlord’s daughter simply walk into my apartment with four of her friends. I am not amused. My landlord was practically frothing at the mouth because I was talking to the neighbors, who have been a huge help to me and given me endless moral support. I don’t even want to be there right now, but I have to go back to pack. I admit I’m a little bit afraid because the landlord strikes me as a ticking bomb.

I want to be as far removed from this dysfunction as possible.

My happy ending this month is that I found a place that’s better and closer to work.  It has a kitchen! OMG! I’m moving on up in the world. The neighborhood doesn’t scare me. I’d be perfectly fine walking around with the hound when the sun is not out. In this scenario, however, the hound will have to take one for the team until I can sort out a dog door – which means he’ll be outside while I’m at work. The landlord happens to work for the same organization that I work for. I think that was a big help to me in being chosen out of all of the other applicants . . . because renting in Portland is tough and I magically beat out 85 other applicants – with a hound dog.

The dynamic duo triumphs in the end. 

For now I’m reminding myself to just focus on one thing at a time and not try to look so far ahead into the future. Sure, I need to sort out a dog door and find a dog house in the interim. I need to get pots and pans because I have none, I need a kitchen table. I need a lot of things. Whatever. For now I’ll just be focusing on getting the hell out of there. One thing at a time, Lass. One thing at a time.

I’ve been talking to a guy I know from tango. He’s going through a breakup, too – but he’s been with this gal for 7 years. Our solution to our woes? Smashing things. We have tentative plans to wail on pumpkins and make a huge mess. Because we can and something about completely laying waste to things is therapeutically gratifying. We’re both fairly stressed out and experiencing sleepless nights. I confessed to him last night that I was disappointed upon learning that he had a girlfriend when I first met him – but I left it at that. Neither one of us are in that kind of mind frame right now. We’re slightly embittered about the dating process, why people treat one another like garbage and that feeling that life has somehow turned against you. While working through my stress and rage I’ll have a companion to talk with regarding the things in life I just don’t understand. I guess it’s comforting that someone else is experiencing the same emotions, so he knows exactly where I’m coming from.

I am very much looking forward to this. 

While outletting my rage on unsuspecting perishables, I’ll be making an extra effort to find the good things in life, even though it’s difficult to see them right now and smile even though I feel like I’m breaking. I’ll make more of an effort to surround myself with the people that make me happy and make an honest attempt to not freak out over the fact that I’m turning 30. I make no guarantees that I won’t cry over my ice cream cake or something. 

Just keep looking up. It can't rain forever. 

Paying the Piper

I’ve been tired lately . . . really tired. I feel like I have 8 balls up in the air and have to learn to juggle all of them. Simultaneously. Right now. I recently gave myself a reality check and pep talk just to be reminded of these things: not everything falls into place overnight, there really are no ‘perfect’ conditions for anything and we all have to pay our dues to get what we want in life.

Sometimes frustrations arise when I see what I perceive as biased treatment between my brother and me. Every time I catch myself in that pattern of thinking I remind myself that the world doesn’t owe me anything. Perseverance has always been my trade mark. I’m tough. I’m resilient. Resorting to envy and resentment is pointless. It benefits no one and is harmful to me most of all.

Since I’ve started dating I’m feeling pressure from some for not finding ‘the one’ yet and from others to take my time. It’s the former that manages to get into my head. Damn. It. I still have my reservations about the whole other-person-completing-me idea. I know I believed in it once and I’d like to think my current approach is a more practical one. When I meet someone the question at the forefront of my mind is how dedicated he will be in the long run. Is he willing to try to work it out when things aren’t going smoothly or will he be quick to draw just for the sake of outshooting me? Personally, I’m not one to speak when I’m hurt or angry. Once something has been said, that’s it . . . . and it feels like that has the potential to do more much harm than a physical act of harming someone  - like theft or something along those lines. It’s almost always the words someone has spoken to me and my emotional reaction to those words that I remember. I try to take care when I speak to others.

I went off on a tangent there for a minute. That’s an example of how my mind is running in circles lately. I go from worrying about my current living situation, to my lack of a social life because of my living situation, to Merlin and telling myself that he’s worth it all (because he so very much is), to dating, to telling my inner mind to shut the hell up and be quiet for once.

On the topic of dating: I feel like I haven’t the slightest fucking clue. On the rare occasion that I meet someone with whom I feel a connection or someone that merits a few outings because I think they might be worth my while, I’m often consumed with thoughts along the lines of: Am I going to get hurt? Will I somehow hurt him? What the hell am I doing here?! Then I catch myself in borderline freak out mode, tell myself I’m awesome about 50 times the same way one would recite a Hail Mary as a form of penance, and take a mental time out to remind myself that this isn’t the end of the line for me. Not even close. In fact, there is no end of the line. That’s just an illusion.

I was telling a friend about someone I met recently. Her response was this: you don’t sound very enthused. Truth be told, I was pleasantly surprised by him. I almost stood him up. I’m glad I didn’t because so far he’s been very different from anyone else I’ve met.  I was skeptical because of his age. I have a long history of dating older men and it never bodes well for me. Then I met him. He’s kind, attractive, he's witty, he's chivalrous, and we have the chemistry to carry on meaningful conversations. While I’ve been extremely self-conscious about my appearance lately, I always feel lovely when I’m with him. On some level I’d wager I’m thrilled. My problem is that I keep telling myself it’s not going to work. For the love of all that is holy, I really need to quit thinking along those lines. I can’t keep focusing on what’s not working, what’s not ideal, and what’s not where I want it to be. Instead, I should be looking forward to something else entirely and remind myself that we pay our dues in nearly every aspect of life. My friends have their fair share of dating gone wrong stories. They found the right fit eventually.

This about sums up who I've met so far with the exception of the guy I almost stood up. 

Everyone has to pay their dues when it comes to a career. While I’m not where I had hoped to be in terms of finances, I know that will come later and emotionally my work is pretty damn rewarding. I helped a patient from another clinic yesterday. She had so many things going on in her life that were overwhelming her physically and mentally and all she needed right at that moment was for someone to give her a sincere and listening ear and get her the help she needed instead of passing her off to the next person. I was able to provide that. These one-on-one interactions make a world of difference to someone else and are precisely why I love my job. I remind myself of this when I think that something as silly as money is more important to my overall well-being. I manage to get by with what I have.

Connecting with complete strangers in their moment of emotional need. THIS is why I love my job. 

When I’m stressed out I remind myself of the things that really matter. I am lucky enough to have a position that is rewarding more often than not. My doctor appreciates me and his gratitude means the world to me. I’ve been surrounded by academia long enough to know the vast majority who make a career out of it have over-inflated egos.

Most importantly, Merlin is a happy dog. He has access to a small yard. I purchased a small AC to run on days when it’s hot and muggy so he’ll be comfortable while I’m away and he is adored by everyone who meets him. I’ve been complimented a lot lately regarding his sweet temperament. That gives me the warm fuzzies because that was entirely my doing and even though finances are tight most of the time I can still afford his grain free good, treats, an occasional toy and lots of love.

The lack of a kitchen has created a whole other set of issues: the time spent actually making food, cleaning my apartment and still trying to find a more efficient way to survive in there have severely cut into my social life. That’s upsetting to me from time to time. I do miss dancing and I am annoyed by the fact that my apartment was probably built on top of an ant graveyard and that’s why those stupid little creatures never go away. I've been browsing. I've learned fairly quickly that Portland is a renter's nightmare. I have stories. I think I'll save those for another entry because they deserve to be showcased! 

He's worth every single aspect of being a hound mom. 

When I’m frustrated I remind myself why I did it at all in the first place: the hound. He’s worth every frustration and inconvenience. I keep that thought in mind every time I look for a new apartment or (as I’m considering lately) roommate scenario. Merlin’s happiness comes first, so I’m staying put for a while. 

These Boots Are Made For Walking

“Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul there is no such thing as separation.” – Rumi

I’ve been working on my own emotional well-being lately. It’s hard to move past resentment when people keep adding to it. Rather than shroud my thoughts with a mask of vague statements I’ll speak as plainly as possible. My family has a knack for nagging or guilting me into doing things . . . this time around it has to do with visiting my mother who is recovering from a back surgery. I can’t stand much to be around her, there’s too much bad blood between us and there’s been more than one occasion in which I’ve wanted to throw up my hands and ask why we even bother with this charade anymore. She wants the privilege of saying she has a daughter, but she doesn’t really want a daughter. I simply want to be as far removed from the situation as possible and they want to pull me back in. Why?!

On a side note, I'm off of medications entirely. I only managed to do that when I was finally out of that house. She hasn't made the connection between the two yet. 

You've managed to free yourself of the burden of me. You can quit exuding a forced maternal-like instinct.

When I’m frustrated with the double standards, mixed messages and feeling of never being good enough, I remind myself that there was a time in my life when I was loved unconditionally. I try to remember their faces, their voices, what it felt like to have that solid foundation of patience and understanding and tell myself that they’re still with me, even if I don’t always feel at one with the Universe. They’re in my DNA – they pulse through my veins and perhaps I’m with them now in some other dimension in time.

" . . . and death was his road to awe." I'll see you in the next life if not again in this one.

Aside from the hound (that goes without saying, really), I put myself first. When it comes to friendships, activities and this amusing process of dating I refuse to be around someone who is a vortex of anger, negativity and resentment. This is not the outlook in life I want. It’s not that I’ve never had my moments, because I have. I just choose not to live in those moments . . . forever. I’ve set high standards for myself and I fully intend to stick to them. In hindsight, this has led to some amusing scenarios.

Meet my online dating inbox. 

If a guy says he’s going to call and doesn’t that’s it. Seriously. I’ve had a few try to contact me after pulling something like that and I let my silence speak for me. I refuse to put up with that kind of nonsense. I refuse to put up with degrading behavior.  I was out for sushi with someone and he couldn’t take his eyes off my chest. I get it. I have boobs. They’re pretty amazing . . . . but there’s more to me than that. Thanks for the seaweed salad, guy. I won’t miss you.

Something like that. 

I met someone for coffee over the weekend. His nervousness made me feel badly for him; he was visibly shaky. I told him lets skip coffee and have a glass of wine at my place instead. He calmed down a little and started to open up a bit after my constant reassurance that this isn’t a competition and I’d really like to know who he is as a human being, not how much money he makes or the amount of success he’s had in life. He had potential . . . . and then he corrected a grammatical typo on one of my text messages last night. Alright Mr. Grammar Nazi, meet my Doc Marten boots. I will gladly take out my boots for the men that insist that I operate around their schedule to meet them in person (no thank you), the men who feel the need to point out my inferiorities to feel better about themselves, the flaky men, the untruthful men and also the ones who can’t quite manage to pull their gaze away from my cleavage . . . My boots are ready, gentlemen!

Actually . . . it was Autocorrect's fault. 

I’ve had only a couple of people tell me I’m being too picky. I very much disagree with that statement. I just have standards and I refuse to compromise. There’s nothing wrong with seeing my own value. Also, it took me a long time to see my worth in this life. I’ll be holding onto that rather than letting some random idiot wreck it completely just because someone thinks I should be in a relationship and am *still* single because I’m just plain too picky. I think those people should meet my boots as well. While I’m on a roll, I think my faux maternal figure can meet my Doc Martens, too. There. I said it. I feel better. 

Obviously not my Doc Martens . . . . . but I'm really crushing on these boots right now. 

"I was dead, then alive. Weeping, then laughing. The power of love came into me, and I became fierce like a lion, then tender like the evening star." - Rumi

Dead Weight and Apathy

“People tend to complicate their own lives, as if living weren’t already complicated enough.” – Carlos Ruiz Zafon, The Shadow of the Wind

I wrote an e-mail today I dreaded doing, but ultimately had to look out for my own well-being because that’s really what’s important right now. I won’t go into the details here because mention of them may cause hurt feelings and that’s not what I’m about. The important thing is that person is being faded out of my life at least for a time being. When I’m feeling more grounded perhaps I can take on the rest of the world’s problems – but now is not the time. My days are spent with very sick people who are facing death. They are afraid. They are in pain and they need someone to give them patience, understanding, and a smile. That’s where my good energy needs to go. At the end of the day/week, I need to be around others who are going to uplift me instead of pulling me into their own vortex of anger and bitterness. For now, with this person, I’m closing the chapter.

I’ve closed the chapter on a few others as well. I can at least give myself credit for recognizing influences that are toxic in my life. Most I’ve cut out completely and others I’ve struggled with a bit more. I know I’ve rambled on and on in previous posts regarding my delicate relationship with my adopted mother. She’s in the hospital again. I find myself extremely apathetic regarding the whole thing. What’s eating at me is that I’m telling myself that I should be concerned that she’s still in recovery. I should care about this woman. I’m sure I do deep down somewhere, that’s just not what’s on the surface right now and I’ve decided I’m going to stop telling myself how I should be feeling and just ride out the apathy. This will pass eventually, I just need to honor that I need time to sift through years of bullsh*t and work through it; it's another form of dead weight that needs to go. 

I'm ready to fly - I just have to teach myself to cut the cord. 

In the meantime, I keep making mental notes to myself of actual notes I need to write to people. Nothing major, just simple ones to let these random people I encounter on a daily basis know that they make my day. I do make an effort to hand write notes on a semi-regular basis to my childhood babysitter.  She practically raised me and I love her. She was my grandmother’s best friend and so much about her embodies all of the experiences in life that are dear to me. There’s also the lovely woman who works at the bike valet station. She’s mute (Why have I not learned to sign?!). She needs to know that smile is lovely and I look forward to seeing her every day. There’s the boisterous, kind and hilarious woman who works in the cafeteria. There’s the kind chef who asks me about my day and is genuinely interested in my answer. These are people that deserve my energy. These are people that deserve to know they make someone’s day because they exist.

The people I encounter now, the women who looked out for me in the past - they need to know they have made a difference to someone. 

My point in all of this is that I am cutting out the negative to make room for the good, positive and fulfilling things in life. I’ve been saying I’m going to do it forever and a day, but have been skipping around the issue for as long as humanly possible. It’s ridiculous. My time is now. I’m taking it.

Dating is still foreign to me. Like my approach to most things in life lately, I’m doing my best to go with it and not overanalyze to the point that I drive myself to some form of mania. There haven’t been many second dates. There haven’t been many first dates, either. What I have noticed is that I am gravitating towards men who are in the military or have a military background . . . . and I never even knew that was some sort of preference of mine until this adventure started.

I’ve had a few dates with one person in particular. I’ve mentioned him before, and I still haven’t thought of another name to call him for the purpose of this blog. I feel at ease with him. He’s made a point of respecting me when I tell him I need time to warm up to him – don’t cross my boundaries because it will send me either running or flying into a rage – maybe even both, who knows? The other night was the first time he touched me without my own initiation of a hug. He ran his fingers on my arm, nothing more. He hasn’t pressured me into anything more and I don’t have the words to describe what a relief that is. He also doesn’t make me go out of my way to see him, either. He comes to my side of town, offers to pick me up if we go out somewhere . . . chivalry isn’t dead. On some levels he understands me. He’s been upfront about his major life f*ck ups as have I. I’m still not sure; I have my reservations about him and I also have all the time in the world to figure it out.

Whatever the outcome, his willingness to let me approach him at my own pace has already left a lasting impression on me. 

So here are my concerns about him: we seem to have no common interests at all. Seriously, it’s like there’s nothing. We do have a good time when we’re together, so there must be something I’m just not seeing yet. On the same note, everyone puts their best foot forward in the beginning, so I’ll re-evaluate this a few months down the road. Additionally, he has an uncanny ability to compartmentalize his life. I guess that comes with being in a specialized Army discipline. While that’s a pretty wicked skill to possess, it worries me a little bit. It worries me because I know someone with that ability, and that person (no longer a welcome presence in my life) is possibly the most toxic, psychological mind f*ck that has ever crossed my path. The person no longer in my life also has a military background. He’s lived with his long-term girlfriend and has many women on the side in many different countries. I guess there’s this nagging (probably irrational fear) that my life will be that of the long-term girlfriend in 20 years . . . ignorant of the intentions, affections and actions of my lover. It’s funny how an attribute of one person who rubbed you the wrong way can cause such an irrational chain of thoughts. I keep reminding myself that they are not the same person. Not even close.

His ability to compartmentalize shouldn't be so worrisome to me. That's another to add to the list of works in progress for the Irish Lass. 

There’s a guy that I’ve been talking to quite a bit who has the name of a comic book hero. I won’t tell you which one. I’ll just call him Clark Kent. He’s in the Army Reserve and we have yet to meet in person. He understands me on a level that a lot of other people don’t as well, but entirely different from the other fellow that I actually have met in person. Sometimes Mr. Kent wishes me goodnight, but his way of doing so is by saying, “happy hunting”. That probably isn’t something anyone else reading this would understand, but it speaks volumes to me. We share a spiritual connection; and that’s an aspect of who I am that Mr. Kent truly understands. On the same note, when we finally meet in person we could decide that we’re enemies and fight to the death. Who knows? I have all the time in the world to figure it out.

While Mr. Kent is away in training he sends me photos throughout the day of him in uniform and it makes me squeal like a little schoolgirl. Lord help me.

Apparently I've had a 'type' this entire time and have only just now noticed it. 

I’m being careful to not judge myself as well just because I’m taking a different approach this time around. I found myself worried the other day about hurt feelings, breaking hearts, unintentionally leading someone on, etc. and I had to tell myself this: No one has made promises or commitments here. What the hell am I worried about? The answer is nothing. I am worried about nothing. I’ll keep approaching this part of life at a snail’s pace. It makes me happier that way. I think my next step is to figure out what type of connection with another person I want in life. At least I think that’s where I go from here. I’m still figuring it out. 

I intend to change many

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. 

Warfare

My experience with dating so far has led me to this conclusion: It really all boils down to psychological warfare. Also, people in general are idiots. On any online dating site it’s commonplace to see things written such as “Be real” and “Not into mind games” and “No drama”. Those lines tell me the following: 1. You are probably the biggest phony that ever lived. 2. You are psychologically flawed and must be in control at all times. 3. You obviously have drama in your life or you wouldn’t have mentioned it. You have unresolved issues and are projecting your nonsense into cyber world. And then there’s my all-time personal favorite message I get from time to time, “R u real?” No, dumbass. I actually put effort into a profile for your own amusement and gawking pleasure! (Side note: I do NOT upload revealing photos). There was also that one guy that said something along the lines of, “You’re hot, but I’m not sure about you.” Umm . . . . Thanks. Blocked!!!

There was also an inebriated text sent in the wee hours of the morning. Lord help me. 

Of the few I actually have let into my life at least to some small degree I’ve found myself wondering why he hasn’t called or messaged me in several days. What did I do to irritate him? Was I not forthcoming enough in who I truly am? OMG?! Do I lack the level of self-awareness to truly know myself?! And then I remember that I’m one of the most awesome people ever, go cuddle with the hound and get on with life.

I'd choose this guy any day. 

I think I have a far different take on what a guy is actually saying than what he really means. I didn’t really realize this until I was telling my landlord last night how extremely bored I am by most of these guys. If they can’t match me intellectually or emotionally and are unable to carry a semi-intelligent conversation, why do they bother wasting my time?! My latest irritation came when I met a guy in person who seemed interesting enough. The entire time he talked about his connections with local big names of which I know nothing of because that really doesn’t matter to me and also about all of the money he’s made. Nice enough – it just struck me as full of himself and materialistic. From my landlord’s perspective, this was merely a guy’s way of saying he could take care of me.

Then there's the guy who just can't tear himself away from his phone. When in doubt, spill your drink and run. 

There’s a Huffington Post article that resonates with my own thoughts about how ridiculous this entire process really is. Here are a few of my favorite highlights: 1. Thou shalt never maketh plans to hang out in advance, for thou are casual and disinterested. 2. Thou shalt never compliment thy lover. Speaketh only in condescending words. 3. Thou shalt covet many, many lovers, preferably in the same neighborhood. Thou shalt speak of them often. 4. Thou shalt remember, above all: The lover who cares the least wins: One sentimental ‘thinking of you’ could derail all the progress you’ve made! Go into Code Red Aloof mode. Ignore your babe’s texts for hours-long gaps and reply with one-word answers. In no time, you’ll prove your lack of investment and thus restore the balance of power.

Because winning is more important than anything else, right? 

It’s just insanity – our own struggle for power and to always have the upper hand. Every single time I feel the urge to want to blow someone off I’m starting to question why. Did I feel slighted by him and am turning this into a vendetta to protect my own ego? Why did his failure to contact me irritate me so much and how does this tie into my own issues of abandonment? Why does dating feel like one of the hardest games of tug-of-war I’ve ever played?

What I can say is this: I’m paying close attention to not just how he treats me and those close to him, but also how he treats the average person that might cross his path. If he can’t be kind to a stranger it’s highly unlikely he’ll be kind to me when I need him to be.

This loving of a heart. That's what matters. 

Something else that really gets me is that everyone has advice to give me. Everyone. Seriously. The attitude seems to be that because these people are married and I am not, clearly I have flawed logic and that’s why I’m still single so they have hoards of knowledge to bestow upon me! My personal favorite is the concept of a soul mate. I believed in that once upon a time – now I’m a firm believer that what you put into a relationship is exactly what you’ll get out of it. The idea that there’s one perfect guy out there for me and I only just have to find him for my life to feel complete and make myself whole is nonsense.

I love old and new friends - I just don't need the dating advice. Thanks. 

I’ve had very old friends reconnect with me lately. I love them, I do. The problem with their logic is that they still think they know me as the young teenager who hoped someone would rescue her from her nightmarish life. People change. I learned to save myself. I’ve been told that I come across as guarded. That’s probably true and I don’t see that as a bad thing. Being naïve and trusting didn’t do me any favors. I can still be open to the world without living my life like a bumbling idiot thinking that no one could possibly ever want to harm me or take advantage of me.

My dating woes are the least of my problems lately. My radiator blew on me last week, forcing me to take out whatever funds I had left in my account to fix it. I am officially in pauper status again. The silver lining to this is that while my car is now fixed, it forced me to ride my bike to work like I said I would. I’ve been doing 22 miles a day and royally kicking butt. I’m rather proud of myself for that – and also noted a few truths about myself that I had to admit. 1. I’m extremely competitive. How dare that guy pass me on the road?! I’m going to smoke him! 2. I get road rage on the bike, too. This isn’t just from other cyclists acting like total assholes, but also from cat calls and inappropriate stares. There are times I want to dismount my bike and bash in someone’s car window . . . . But then I remind myself of my awesomeness and carry on. 

I have been described as such . . . .But my main point is this: I am not out there for your personal viewing pleasure. I don't care how marvelous my breasts are. 

Change

“Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.” – Mahatma Gandhi

Life seems to be falling into place. I’ve been wondering how it’s all going to play out. Sure, I’m still stressed out from time to time because I worry about not quite being able to pay a bill on time or something else along those lines that’s really all not that important in the grand scheme of things . . . But we all do that, don’t we?

Yes! While it doesn't solve all of life's problems, it comes pretty damn close.

After coming to the realization that my actions were going against my own moral compass causing a chasm in my connection to the Universe and guilt that nearly broke me, I made a drastic change. Suddenly the world felt less oppressive and scary. I’m standing alone and completely content with where I am in life.

I reconnected with a very old and very dear friend with whom I was very close in high school. Unfortunately, we lost touch over the years. I had lived with family that didn’t want me to have non-Christian friends and then we moved to another city. I’ve thought of her often and my heart jumped for joy when she found me through facebook. I laughed to myself when she asked me if I was still breaking hearts. Me? No freaking way! Her nonjudgmental query as to why there was no significant person in my life got me thinking. Am I ready this time around? Truth be told, I still don’t know for certain.

Uncertain, but blissfully content. 

I’ve been fortunate to have a few stellar males in my life who I trust, who truly understand me,  who have challenged me to be better and who give me their unfailing support . . .  and also tandas (that’s very important). The time spent in reflection during my period of single freedom has granted me a clearer vision of what I want/need in another person. I’ve also had to be honest with myself about how deeply rooted some of my insecurities really are and even come to terms with some of the more petty aspects of my character: I’m extremely afraid of change and need consistency in my life. I have extremely deep attachment issues and need to be reassured that the other person is in my corner.  

Personal issues aside, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m not opposed to sharing my life with someone at this point. Merlin and I are perfectly content. We don’t need anyone, but we wouldn’t mind the company. So, with the encouragement of my friends and brother (who insists no one will ever be good enough for me), I started an online dating profile. I admit having that filter to weed out the creepy guys has been a huge relief. Sexually suggestive user name: Blocked. Try to talk to me when you live half way across the country, why the heck are you wasting my time? Blocked.  Asking for my number when you are probably a stalker: Blocked.  Sending me inappropriate photos whether or not a conversation has been initiated: BLOCKED!!!

I'm not involved with match.com . . . . but sometimes I ask myself what the hell I'm doing with this online thing. Is this what my generation has become? 

My very old friend gave me one piece of solid advice that I really needed to hear: No pity dates. She knows me way too well. With that topic in mind I went through the list of men with whom I had been speaking and blocked about half of them. I made tentative plans to actually meet one guy in person. He seemed nice and normal, which seems to be difficult to come by these days. Additionally, he has a disgustingly cute smile.

On a different tangent entirely I realized that I have a few pity friendships. They are draining and offer no enrichment whatsoever to my life. I intend to remedy that soon. Now, back to my tale.

I've grown pretty tired of the emotional vampires and there will be no pity dates or friendships!

The events that followed were something I could have never anticipated. I have a neighbor across the street with an adorable 6-year-old daughter. She and I have had several play dates. She’s confident, she’s fun and she definitely knows what she wants. I’d been spending a lot of time with her. I assumed her and her father pitied the young lady living across the street from them with no washer, dryer, or kitchen to cook in. I particularly had the latter in mind when the young girl’s father asked me over for dinner.

I jokingly refer to my place as my hovel. It's nothing even remotely close to this. I tell people it's like luxury camping or something along those lines.

It soon became clear that my neighbor was definitely interested in me. Not only did he cook for me, but he obviously put a lot of effort into it. We spent the evening playing hide-and-go-seek and the two of them walked me to my front door with a couple of roses he cut for me from his garden. I’ve had many nights like this with them lately. Recently, while the young girl was staying with her mother, I visited her dad. He kissed me when we parted ways after he walked me to my front door. I didn’t stop him.

To set the record straight, I was going for his cheek and he went in for the kill. Still, I didn't stop him.

Who the hell saw that one coming? I sure didn’t. I look forward to seeing them when I get home at the end of the day. I look forward to having dance offs with a 6-year-old girl. I look forward to running around like a maniac because I’m too big to fit into a lot of the really good hiding spots. I even look forward to that exhausted feeling just before going to bed because a tiny human has demanded every second of my attention.

There's also piggy back rides, coloring, dancing, singing and giggling. 

So where’s it going? I don’t know. We've agreed to move slow, particularly for my sake. I don't want another fake fairy tale. I’m still afraid. I have a lot of things running across my mind, but I’ve learned to put them on mute. I can’t consume myself with the ‘What ifs?’ I guess I’m just waiting to see how it all pans out and running with it in the meantime.

"None of us knows what the next change is going to be, what unexpected opportunity is just around the corner, waiting a few months or a few years to change all the tenor of our lives" - Kathleen Norris