Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Zero points no one wins

The dating thing was a really horrible idea. The first day, I got a message from a guy here in town, and I knew he wasn't my type in any way shape or form. But, I sent a reply because he was the first guy to send me a message.
Didn't hear anything else from him, which was fine. Til I woke up this morning and saw he'd sent me a message at 1am, last night/this morning.  I answered his question. He just messaged me again, but before I could read it, it was deleted. His profile is still there, so he obviously decided to be a dick and add me to the no fly list.  Normally, that would bother me to the ends of the earth, but dude if you're going to be a child then find someone who likes that cause I've got no time for it.

I really think that communication is only part of the issue between people these days. As I really think the core issue is that men and women have a different definition of what "dating" is. 

When women say dating we mean relationship, early stages maybe, but relationship none the less. When men it seems say dating, they mean one night stands or friends with benefits. 
When a woman says one night stand, we mean it was one night and doubt it will ever happen again.

The one decent guy I've talked with on the dating site, cut the conversation when he realized I didn't live in his city. Otherwise, he was down right perfect. 38, single no kids, 5 foot 11, jet black hair, pale skin, chocolate brown eyes, a photographer, vegan and into New Age spirituality.  Totally beyond my dream come true.  Only, he lived on the other side of the country. Damn it!  Life is truly not fair.
Seriously, could Aphrodite custom make a man for me any better?

There is a lesson in here somewhere, I'm just too tired to look.

Friday, June 19, 2015

I couldn't help but wonder

As human beings in the digital world, are we even capable of making meaningful connections anymore?  Today is the deadline I gave myself for the online dating site. One solid week of looking, messaging, working the site. 

I came up with zero.  Not one single coffee invite, not one email address or phone number, not one single conversation that passed the "how you doing?" part.

I got more then a few sleazy offers from married men, and even an attack by one witch-hunter who tried to convert me to being a Christian, because I had Wiccan listed as my religion.  The really sad part about that is that he was the only guy to actually bother to read my profile.

And my page count of how many guys were actually looking at my profile, went from a steady flow of five every two minutes, to zero in the last 24hours. Best I can figure is because I removed an old photo from 2009 that was the only full body selfie.

So it really is true, show the curves and get the stares. Or in this case, prove you don't have any and get the approval. 

I even upped the age limit I was willing to date to in the mid 40's, and expanded my search to cover the whole province I live in, not just my city.  Even that brought me nothing new.

So why do we do it?  Why do we let ourselves believe that a real connection can happen when no one is truly trying?  For some, the surface noise is enough. But for those of us out there who sort of wish the world wasn't jacked in 24/7/365, it's difficult to trust that this is the right way to "try something new".
By the shear number of men I searched through on that site, just in my province; there are a lot of lonely people out there. If they admit it or not. Granted, half of them are morons and the other half are dickheads, but that's another story itself.

So as I wrap up another chapter in my life, proving once again that I'm un-matchable in my pursuit to finding Mr. Right...I couldn't help but wonder; in a time when everything is connected, do we know when we've found a real connection?

Thursday, June 18, 2015

message in a bottle continued

My cousin Walsh stopped by for a few minutes. I was in the middle of a meltdown when he did. I had been texting my buddy the Musician, and basically freaking out whining about Mr. Uber-Hot not messaging again.  My buddy was telling me to just ask for the guy's number.

Walsh-:"Don't. Bad move."  he was reading over my shoulder the message. "Worst advice ever."  I have to agree with my cousin on this one. I went to show him the original message, and it was gone. In fact, Mr. Uber-Hot was just gone.

Me-:"Can he do that? Disappear?"

Walsh-:"Don't think so. I don't know. Maybe." 

Me-:"Great, I lost my chance before having it. Wait, does that mean he's deleted it? Or..."

Walsh-:"Deleted I would guess. Otherwise, he'd just ignore you and still show up I think?"  he slapped my shoulder. "You over think things. Don't worry about it. Besides, he's not Mr. Scratchy."

Me-:"Well, Mr. Scratchy isn't anymore either."  Totally defeated. "Okay, that's it. The universe gave me this wicked chance, and I blew it by disbelieving it was meant for me, and it was snatched away again."

Walsh-:"Sounds about right."  he laughed.

Me-:"Not helping."

Walsh-:"Neither is your buddy there. What's he telling you..." he lit a cigarette looking for something to use as an astray. Ended up grabbing my incense burner.

Me-:"That guys want playboy centerfolds."

Walsh-:"Well yeah." he snorted nearly choking on his cigarette.

Me-:"I'm doomed."

Walsh-:"Just means this guy wasn't the right one for you."

Me-:"He was beautiful! I deserve a beautiful man damn it!"

Walsh-:"I didn't say you don't. I've been telling you for how long now to stop putting yourself down. This would be sad if you weren't so funny right now. No one takes these sites seriously."

Me-:"Well, it's my last shot."

Walsh-:"Only if you believe it is. What's he saying now?" he pointed to the text from Musician.

Me-:'To update my photos and stuff. Not to give up."

Walsh-:"I think you just need to relax and not take it so seriously. And let me say again, doesn't matter because you won't be happy with anyone."

Me-:"Thanks a lot. So you're saying I can't make a man happy?"

Walsh-:"Not what I said. Don't be putting words in my mouth. I said YOU won't be happy. You are too much like our grandfather was. He wouldn't settle for anything either when he had something in his mind. And you're like that. You talk about soulmates so don't try to tell me that you're not going to be happy with anything other then what you believe is your soulmate."

Okay, I can't argue with that as much as I want to.

message in a bottle

Went for a coffee last night with my buddy the Musician. Which only slightly has anything to do with things.

Let's start with the fact, the newest hottest guy in the city messaged me yesterday. I couldn't believe it either. Part of me still thinks it's a joke or something.  Not too mention, my ears were burning like stoplights for over an hour while I was talking to this guy and getting ready to go out. 
Here's where my coffee with my buddy comes into play; I had to end the conversation with Mr. Should-Be-An-UnderwearModel because I was already late for coffee.  You know what he said, message him later. 

Message him later. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Oh yeah totally did.  Only, I totally screwed it up. Don't know how I got his attention to begin with, but when I messaged him back, he quickly forgot I existed.

I know why too. I stumbled. Just choked. Any witty cute intelligent things I had been saying to that point, stopped pouring from my typing. I froze and became like a driveling moron.
Ended up becoming my big "Miranda" moment like the episode of Sex and the City when the hot cop asks her out and she's so shocked someone thinks she's worth it, that she drinks too much and blows her cool having the guy turned off. (Season 3 "What Goes Around Comes Around", #17 of the season, #47 of series)

Why is it, I can shamelessly flirt with wrestlers constantly, making an ass out of myself telling them how hot they are, letting them know they are my current muses for my art, and the greatest thing since sliced bread and yet, when one real normal guy steps into the picture, I crack?  I become the village idiot.

Can't say my audaciousness is just because there is a computer between myself and my wrestlers, because, there was a computer between myself and Mr.Uber-Hot last night. So why is it that the average man sends me into a state of cold sweats and intimidation?

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Nothing but morning

Woke up to the sound of a very loud rap band just outside my window.  One of the neighbours pulled their car up to the building, less then a foot from my window, their doors open and speakers booming. This was before 7 am. Dude! Instantly people complained. And rightly so.

Then as I was getting a coffee, saw a message blinking on my cell phone. Surprised to see it was the Musician. He's back in town.  Didn't even know he had been out of town.  Talk about synchronicity; as I had that crazy dream the other week about him and Jimmy Jacobs. 
There was also a message from my cousin Walsh, asking if I'm "over it yet?"  Which I'm not sure what that refers to?  Kinda don't think that one was meant to be sent to me.

As I am sitting here typing this, I opened my messages from the dating site. 18 men want to meet me. None of which live in this city and are all in their 50's. 

I suddenly feel like that scene from season 6 of Sex and the City where Carrie's boss asks her to find a date for her, and then tries to steal Carrie's artist boyfriend, because dating is just depressing. (episode called "Splat!" #18 of season, #92 of series)

Tuesday, June 16, 2015

deja date 3

There are exactly 47 available straight single men in their 30's in my area. I've looked at all their profiles in the last 48hours. Messaged 4 of them. With zero replies.

Wait, it gets sadder. 

The Rooster is one of the 47 profiles. Told you he's got a different chick every night.

This is what I don't understand, in a city the size I live in, how is it that with that little available to date, we can walk past each other all day long, yet never find anyone? We have to resort to flipping through profiles online?  And heaven forbid if you try to message a guy who lives out of city. You'll get your arse jacked to the tenth degree. 
Everyone is looking to find the local, yet no one is ever happy with what's in their area.  How does that work in the end?

How much wheel spinning do we have to do before we tell the candyman to stop the ride, we just want to get off on that platform?
I just keep thinking of the scene in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, where the Johnny Depp character kicks his buddy while in the carnival, and blames it on the carney.

Monday, June 15, 2015

Deja Date continued

Well, it's official. There are no decent available men in my city. There are some hot ones, mostly men who have moved here for the year to work. The decent ones all seem to be in the upper U.S. area, not even in my country. Go figure.

I don't know why I bothered?  

Why is it, the men I have zero interest in, are the ones messaging me, and the ones I'm interested in, don't return mine?  Law of attraction or something. What you put in, you get back. Only, you would think there would be some braking even at some point right? 

I know I'm not going to find Mr. Right, on that site, but I thought I would at lest find a decent guy for awhile.  Last time I went through all this, I spent almost a full year on it.  I just don't have the energy or patience do spend that kind of time again, just trying to make one connection.

At what point did it all become so cynical? I actually remember a time when men were just happy to find a woman who could cook more then Kraft Dinner, and were willing to get naked. Now, every guy out there is looking for the woman who can climb mountains while breast feeding and making a four course meal all at the same time.

And gross on the breast feeding by the way.

To be honest, nothing has changed that I can see as far as what type of woman snags the man. The guys out there still seem to want some 23 year old anorexic stick figure who looks like she fell straight out of a underwear catalog. The same as they did when I was younger. 

Dating sucks.

Sunday, June 14, 2015

Deja Date

I'm having a "Samantha Jones" moment.  I finally broke down and went back to an old dating site I had marginal success with back like eight years ago.  Updated my old profile a bit, and to my shock and awe, was pounced upon. Okay, yeah I get it that I have "new girl smell" and am listed as new member, but some of the men messaging me, I've actually dated before.  And they didn't remember me.

Should I be insulted or grateful? 

I can't believe I am even considering...well considered given I've just spent the last four hours on there...dating through a dating site again. Ugh! Yeah, really had only one other choice for meeting guys, since the whole youtube-snag-a-male-witch didn't work. The other option would be to return to facebook, but since my entire family is on there, and connected to my old profile, I wouldn't be able to sneeze without them butting into my life.
Imagine, me actually finding Mr. Right and changing my status on there from single to in a relationship, or parish the thought, putting up a photo of me and him...I'd never survive my family's onslaught of noisiness.

So, I caved. I rejoined a dating site. I think I might be sick.

I'm officially dating again.

Dirty Laundry 52

Today I met the Rooster.

I was coming back from the grocery, and heard a door open at the far end of the hall. Looked up, and there was this guy, dressed in black track pants, a black shirt, flip-flops, carrying his trash.

I looked. Of course. Dude had jet black hair, bit too tan for my taste, okay any tan is too much of a tan for my taste, and a goatee. And from where I was standing, couldn't really see his eyes.  And tall. Can't get over how tall guys are now a days...I'm clocking him at 6foot 4.

He caught me looking. Turned his head just enough to smirk at me over his shoulder as he slowed down in the hallway, while I stood there trying to get my groceries in.  He waited, hovering in the doorway of the main doors until I closed my apartment door.  Then I watched him through the peeper for a few long seconds as he just, hovered as if waiting before heading out. Big ass grin on his face.

I've seen him pass by my window at night, always with a different chick on his arm. Never seen him in the daylight.  Here's the thing, he didn't need to go marching through the whole building to get outside to the trash shed. He could have gone through the doors by his end of the building, which is closer.  Something tells me he's the kind of guy who likes to be seen every chance he can get.
And the big thing, he's like the only man in this city who doesn't seem to bathe in the same cologne. Every guy who lives in this city seems to just roll around in that Axe stuff that was popular a decade ago everywhere else on the planet. But the Rooster, doesn't. 

A sign of class, or just really great taste?

Monday, June 8, 2015

Monday june 8th 2015

I had a chat this evening, with Jeff, the male witch. We were talking about how the world has become so overshadowed with living online, how everyone is connected but no one really pays attention.  Ironic when you think about it. Everyone is energetically together in what can only be considered a borg mentality, striving not for divine oneness as we were brought to believe in the 1960's sci-fi shows that something like this would bring. But, in fact, it's divided the world that much more.  That's an entire spiritual conversation for another time.

But it got me thinking of one thing. I miss my affair of the blog.

The whole time Jeff was talking about how no one respects each other, really honestly respects each other anymore, all I could think was few years back when The Celebrity was reading my blog.  I know, bad of me right? No, not really.
Okay, yeah, I get that he was mocking me half the time, and ripping off my blog topics the rest of the time, but in order to do so he had to spend god knows how long reading me.  I mean really reading me.

Here's the sad part. While Jeff was yammering on about how the world is a gutter, I admitted to myself, that mocking or not The Celebrity paid more attention to what I had to say then any guy I've ever dated. Ever.

Yeah, I'm not sure how to react to that either?   Other then I miss the knowing that he reads me. I miss the idea of what that means, what that could mean and the possibility it could bring. 
If a guy I've never met, never had a conversation -outside of this blogging thing- with can find it in himself to listen to what I have to say; and I mean open ears open mind, listening to what I have to say, then finding that level of connection with an average guy should be a given.

I find it a bit sad now too that company #2's blog that The Celebrity had been writing for back few years ago, no longer exists. I went just now after the conversation with Jeff to re-read some of the posts, and it's no longer there.  See, you should never take anything for granted.

And if The Celebrity is reading this...we really should catch a vampire movie sometime.

Tuesday, June 2, 2015

8:48pm something something

You know you've hit rock bottom when you realize that you've managed to binge watch the entire catalog of Hallmark made for tv movies in a week, and go through a bucket of chocolate bars and a full bottle of wine alone while doing so.

Welcome to rock bottom. Feels like you'd expect it to...rough and cold. Like falling down an endless pit of despair only, there's no light at the top to shadow down on you.

This was suppose to be a time to reevaluate things, meet new people, and write. I haven't left the sofa in god knows how long, and the only thing I've written is one piece to the fairy tale. It's like every time I sit down to get started on anything else, the fairy tale nags at me, guilt tripping me into working on it yet again! Not that it's a bad thing, but it's really time to work on something else even for a few weeks.

Have not seen Jon the repair guy around at all. Nor has Mr. Freeze said anything else to me. So zero for zero no win situations.

Had a really crazy dream though the other night about wrestler Jimmy Jacobs and my former buddy the Musician.  Dreamed Jimmy Jacobs was going around the building with a clipboard checking people's hall closets for neatness, and that he barged in ripping mine apart reorganizing it. And that my former buddy the Musician was behind him mopping up muddy footprints handing him fresh pens every few seconds because every time he checked something off, he tossed the pen over his shoulder. Crazy enough right?
Damn, I havent' seen or heard from or even thought about the Musician in about four years. Wonder if he even still lives here?