Hello!

Two months have gone by since I've last posted.

That's exactly 61 days.

And today is Day 176 of:
Hope + TubaDad
equalling
L. O. V. E.

Can you say happy, happy girl?

I can! Happy, happy girl!

I just wanted to update and say that all is wonderful and the honeymoon phase is still going strong.

May it never, never end!

Exposing your secret baggage will set you free.

On July 19th, which was only day 36, I posed the question "What are the chances that my online dating days are over?" It was only 36 days in so it was kind of a long shot. All kinds of things could of happened and all kinds of GOOD things have happened.

On Day 110 we went to church and Pastor John talked to us about our secret baggage and how it creates anxiety in our lives. I thought of my secret baggage. Mother frencher. I could rationalize that it wasn't secret baggage all I wanted because my friends know and I've already asked for forgiveness for that secret baggage and I've forgiven myself, but the truth is if TubaDad doesn't know then it's secret baggage. Maybe it's not the steamer trunk it once was but it was now a small purse. A very heavy small purse.

I decided I need to consult with the person I know loves Jesus the most. My friend, Leah. I told here what Sundays message was and asked her what she thought. She confirmed my gut feeling and told me that I needed to tell TubaDad.

So, I might as well admit it here, too. It can only free me that much more. See, my marriage was crumbling all around me and there was tiny thread wrapped around my wrist and I was barely holding on for lots of reasons. So when a man in my office started showing me attention and giving me the emotional support I so desperately needed, I let go of the string and clung to him. In less cryptic or poetic talk- I had an affair. And I continued that affair after I was divorced. He was married, too. I'm not justifying my actions or making excuses. What I did was wrong. But it happened and I can't change it now.

What I can do is tell you that I learned a very big lesson the most difficult way possible and I never, ever want to be in that position again. It's the most self-destructive, insecure, hurtful, depressing roller coaster of a ride a person can be on. I was immature and deceitful and that's not who I want to be.

I texted TubaDad on day 113 and asked him if he would come over after the boys went to bed. He really didn't want to. The man works so hard, I don't blame him. I told him I could wait until Thursday (date night) to tell him about my secret baggage but when he found out what it was about he knew we needed to get it behind us. And, he didn't want to wonder for the next 2 days what the hell my secret baggage was all about.

I was grateful because I certainly didn't want to keep practicing what I was going to tell him and worrying about how he would respond. Without airing too much of his business, this is where it became complicated for me because his marriage ended due to an affair. Not his. Hers.

Moving on.

He came over and with him sitting on a bar stool and me standing in his arms so I don't have to look him in his eyes and I tell him.

Our body temperatures must of gone up 175 degrees. Or, maybe it was just me.

Long story short, the man is a saint.

He said he could ask me a bunch of questions but that wouldn't do either of us any good. He told me he still loved me and he wasn't going to worry about what happened out of his control before 113 days ago.

I, of course, was in tears. Not big sobbing, ugly tears but tears all the same. They were both tears of relief that he didn't get angry with me and tears of sadness for having to relive that chapter of my life again. And where does all that snot come from when you cry? Ew.

He told me not to worry. We hugged good night, we've texted and talked on the phone the last couple of days, and tonight is date night. Can someone please make time go by faster for the next 3 - 4 hours?

Here I am on day 115 and I'm going to pose the question again.
What are the chances that my online dating days are over? If I have anything to do with it, they're 100% over. Best 115 days of my life!



I was going to end it there but some of you girls need this next statement:
No, he's hasn't popped the question or anything close to that but this man is the O-N-E. The one for me.

4 Boys and 1 Girl on a Date.

I was completely outnumbered and I loved it.

And no, it wasn't some kinky date. Get your minds out of the gutter.

Last Saturday evening, TubaDad and TubaPlayer came over and took me and my two monsters to dinner and a movie. It was fun to watch.

TubaPlayer came in and hugged me and then both monsters approached and everyone shook hands at introductions. It was all very formal for 9, 10 and 13 year old boys.

We went to Fuzzy's Tacos and the line to order was long and the restaurant was crowded. The boys went off to secure us a table. TubaDad and I canoodled in line and placed our order then went to see where we were sitting on the patio. Well, I guess the boys were so caught up in getting to know each other- how old are you, what grade are you in, what sports do you play, isn't our parents kissing gross (I made that one up) - they did a horrible job at getting us a table. The got a half surf-board table that sat 3. Hello? Where are your parents suppose to sit?

Luckily, TubaDad saw an opportunity inside and ran in and procured it for us. The boys sat at one end while TubaDad and I sat across from each other at the other end. I don't remember what the boys were talking about but TubaDad was going to interject a comment but the boys were so involved in talking to each other we might as well not have been there it all. TubaDad looked at me and said, "I got shut out." It made me laugh and while it was kind of sad that they weren't paying attention to TubaDad, I thought it was great that they were getting along so well.

After dinner we drove over to a theater that was featuring Moneyball at 8:15pm but when we got there it was sold out. We drove over to another theater for a later showing. And again, mostly TubaDad and I didn't exist. They just hammed it up with each other. Jumping and swinging on tree branches, having a foot race, asking all kinds of questions, playing video games together, going to the concessions together, and so on.

 

It. Was. Greatness.

It was late when the movie ended but we all made it through. We all laughed about the ending and when we got back to my house TubaDad and TubaPlayer skedaddled out there pretty quickly. I hugged my man. Then, I hugged the TubaPlayer and the boy monster's first meeting was a success.

But I expected no less. We both have good monsters.

TubaDad told me that when the two of them got to the drop off point that TubaPlayer announced to his mom and sister- "I got to meet Hope's boys."

 

Alright! We made the Report.

I met my boyfriend's teenage children and were they brutal! Damn!

Just kidding about the title. I am happy to report that Meet the Teenager's went fine.

They weren't super talkative or inquisitive or extremely one way or the other. I wasn't either.

We all just allowed ourselves to be in the same space. And, for me, it was very nice. I hope it was fine for them, too.

TubaPlayer has the "Hey Dad" syndrome that I know as the "Hey Mom" syndrome at my house and it made me smile.

The Daughter was quiet and has TubaDad's right cheek dimples that I love so much.

One of my favorite moments was after church when we were driving over to the store when George Strait's song "Here for a Good Time" came on the radio. The two of them were singing along in the back seat and I can't explain why but it was the sweetest of moments. I could have lived that moment forever. I have been humming this song all day today.



My second favorite moments were the hugs. TubaDad's mom made The Daughter come down to hug me goodbye as she was spending the night with her grandparents. TubaPlayer gave me a hug a goodbye, too.

And even better- he gave TubaDad his approval after I left.

Day 83 - I. Am. Freaking. Out.

No, today is not day 83. Sunday is day 83. And why am I freaking out about day 83? Well, because I'm going to meet the love of my life's offspring! If they were two 10 year old boys I would totally know what to do. But they're a 14 year old girl and 13 year old boy. Yikes! Teenagers!

Deep breaths. Happy thoughts.

They're going to totally love me. I mean, what's not to love? I'm freaking cool. Even if I was a band geek. But hey! Everyone was in the band! Really! Everyone!

I digress.

Really, I'm just excited.

But nervous.

And excited.

I guess I really just want them to like me as much as my boys liked TubaDad. What's not to like about a guy who throws the football and Frisbee with you, or plays a Wii tournament with you, or wrestles in the pool with you? But I think he had it WAY easier. 10 year old kids are so much more forgiving! So easy to please! I mean all you have to do is be kind of silly and you're cool.

The current plan is that we're all going to go to church together so I won't even have to talk during that hour. Thank you, God! Then, we're going to go over to his parents house for a little Sunday afternoon gathering. So, I'll have extended family that I've already met to help buffer so I really have nothing to be nervous about. Right?

Unless I accidentally drop an F bomb. Or, if I happen to get snarky and they don't get sarcasm. Or, I word vomit all over them. Or, or, or... I accidentally burp really loud! Or pass gas!

F-Bomb!

I. Am. Freaking. Out.



PS It will be fine. I know it will. Because I'm F-bombing cool. Fo Shizzle.  Do they still say that? Maybe I should just listen.

My worlds collided and it was the best show ever. I'm so glad I had front row seats to see it!

It was day 69 and Dulce de TubaDad and I had just spent a wonderful weekend together. But that afternoon I set out for a week long painting workshop that I had signed up for in February. It was something I had been looking forward to since then. And though I was excited, I also felt a bit melancholy leaving the loves of my life.

The two reasons that I get up everyday for the past (almost) 11 years were starting back to school and I was going to miss their first week. What kind of mother misses the first week of their kids school year. This one. Mother of the Year, right here. But this painting workshop was important to me. It is important that I develop this skill for myself. So, I booked a week of vacation from my paying job, I left my two boys to start the 4th and 5th grade in the hands of their father, I kissed the man I love goodbye and set out on my journey ready to be inspired to be a better painter.

Don't get me wrong. Though I felt the twinges of guilt I was excited to be submerging myself in paint for the next 5 days.

While I was at the workshop I supplemented my love addiction with texts and phone calls and using my new love for inspirations in my art. For example, you may have read my post about the number 14. It is now a staple in my paintings.

But let's get to the worlds colliding, okay? That's why I'm really here.

On day 74, I was more than ready to see my 3 men. The boys returned home after a hot soccer practice and I thoroughly enjoyed their stories. It felt good to be home with them. I was just missing one piece of my pie. Or Cheesecake in this case. Dulce de TubaDad.

At 8pm, he was still at work and I could feel him wavering through text about coming over that evening. Not in a sense that he didn't want to meet them but I think he wanted it to be right. I couldn't think of a better time. It was getting dark. They were swimming and having a good time. No pressure to sit and converse and spill you life story. And they would be going to bed soon enough.

At about 8:30, in the dusk of a hot August Friday night, the burning flame of a man that has confiscated my heart crashed into the two lives that I gave birth to and at that moment and the ones following my world felt completely perfect.

My boys usually entertain themselves playing and there is little interaction with me beyond the occassional "Mom, watch this." But this night, they were engaged. Not with me but with  Dulce de TubaDad .
My heart swelled and my love tank overflowed spilling all over my backyard watching the three of them get to know each other.

It was a... Very. Beautiful. Thing.

Didn't you just love when iPods came out and you could put all your photos on them? I did!

This story is from the dating vault. It took place in the fall of 2008. The Internet is a wonderful thing. It connects people- complete strangers- that live far, far away or even right here in the same area as you. I had been skimming Match.com but did not want to pay the money to be a member. I read a funny, funny profile and he was able to sneak in his MySpace address.

Anyone remember MySpace?

Well, I had a MySpace profile and I emailed him through MySpace. I told him I didn't think that we were a romantic match but that I thought his profile was hilarious. We exchanged emails and one Friday he emailed me and asked me out to a Ryan Adams concert.

It was that night! I didn't have anything to do so I said yes. I was also in my work clothes without time to go home to change. I'm no dummy. I went shopping.

I walked out of the store wearing my new clothes with the nice warning from the Sales Clerk that the place I was meeting him at made very strong drinks. Be careful!

The conversation was going along fine when his ex calls. He had a little boy. He had left the little tyke with his Grandma and the ex was just getting in from a vacation with her new boyfriend and was ready to see the little angel. Ms. Ex was not happy that my date was not around to deliver said angel. There was some discussion about it at the table. Followed by an apology.

I'm pretty sure that was my first red flag.

We continue talking and it's time for us to go to the concert. We decide that he is safe enough for me to ride with and we go. On the way he decides he needs to call Ms. Ex back. We're in a car. I'm trapped here. So, in an effort to not eaves drop which is impossible I pick up his iPod and start scrolling through it.

It was a new iPod for the time- you know one with photos loaded on it. I started scrolling through the pictures. There's a picture of his little tow headed angel. Aw. And there's the little tow headed angel with his grandmother. And there's a picture of my date. Oh, why do people take pictures of themselves in the mirror. It's just so cheesy. Don't do it. Red flag number two? Hmm. Not sure. Maybe not. And there's another picture of him in the mirror, a little closer up. And then...

And then...

And then! He must have realized what I was looking at and at the same time that I change to the new picture, cry "OH!" and try to scroll off of the picture, my date bumps his car into the curb and we are jolted back into the lane. Yes, my friends. It was a close up picture of his flaccid penis hanging out of his khaki pants.

And all I could think was, "Why!"

That was definitely a red flag but what was I going to do? Tell him to take me back to my car and have to tell him why if maybe by some chance the whole curb thing was coincidence? Not see Ryan Adams perform? I just tried to put it out of my mind.

We acted like nothing happened. We got to the concert. He tried to park in a No Parking Zone (red flag) and when we walked up to the doors the security guard warned him that he would get towed. So, I went in and he moved the car.

At the intermission we took a little walk. I wasn't aware of it but it was back to his car. He pulls out a flask of whiskey and asks me if I want a swig (red flag). Uh- hello. I'm a girl. I don't take swigs of whiskey. Especially not on a first dates with guys that have naked pictures of their flaccid penis's on their iPods! I politley declined saying I wasn't much of whiskey drinker.

We went back in for the rest of Ryan's weak performance. I still love Ryan anyway. And then it was time to go. He drove me back to my car and there was a little talk about a second date but not much. He pulled up near my car but was blocking someone in when he stopped so while he tried to give me a proper good night goodbye he was rushed. And I was running like Flo-Jo to get my car and driving off like Dale Earnhardt!

I got an email the next day. He wanted to apologize for the whole whiskey in a flask thing. He should have thought that out better and brought me something that I would have liked.

I don't know, like what? A rufie?

Fourteen bottles of beer on the wall, fourteen bottles of beer.

Love drunk. That's what I am.

I have been frantically trying to remember every detail of the last 65 days. As we talked on the phone last night, Dulce de TubaDad reminded me of when we first held hands and that's when he felt that I liked him. It was on that damn second date. I wound up telling him about that and he laughed.

But, I realized I was forgetting stuff and it's only been 65 days. I don't want to forget any of it. What if I'm Ally and he's Noah and I get Alzheimer's and he has to read me the Notebook of our story everyday so I can remember? What if? Huh? Huh?

You see why I say Love drunk and not Lovesick but I guess it could be sick. Sick in the head! Anyway.

I've realized the number 14 has meaning in our life.

We had our first date on June 14th.
TubaDad was the 14th date I had been on on this merry go round ride called dating.
Day 14- the day that I realized that I really liked him and especially glad he didn't turn out to be a psychotic ax murderer when we took an evening nature walk together in the dark woodsy area near his apartment.
Valentine's Day- the day of love is on the 14th!

Okay, that doesn't really have anything to do with us but still! Just saying.

This is just silly business but I plan on staying in the honeymoon phase forever so these are the details I need to document and remember.

But, he's number 8 on my speed dial. Infinity. That was not planned when I programmed it.

That was serendipity.

Cowboy Kerry tries to lasso a philly before Colorado Steve could land in Texas

I have been so wrapped up in being in love and sharing that wonderful part of my life with you that it feels like the whole Match.com thing was a million years ago. Who were those men?

Looking back on it all I really appreciate the pace that Dulce de TubaDad took with asking me out. It was the perfect balance of communication of emails, phone calls, and text messages. Not too much. Not too little. If he had swooped in and tried to whisk me away, I would have resisted. I wanted time for each of us to earn the others affection. That's the hard part about meeting online. People, men and women, want an instant spark of chemistry and, for me at least, I need the fire to build slower.

Take for example one of my last dates from Match. I called him Cowboy Kerry.

He was from a small south Texas town. We shared that in common. He had 3 boys. I have 2. We shared that in common. When talking on the phone he explained a lot of his views on life that are not your standard beliefs. Religious, political, some past mistakes. I alleviated his concerns that those things didn't matter because I'm cool that way. I am open to other peoples beliefs and they are not any less than my own.

I think he was smitten in part that I didn't condemn him on the spot.

We decided to meet for lunch on a Thursday and I picked a spot with a beautiful outdoor patio and it was a very nice lunch. By Friday morning he had Googled me and found all of my blogs. Well, there you go. What else do you need to know about me? It's all out there. And, apparently he liked what he read.

The only problem was that Colorado Steve was flying into meet me on Friday and we all know that I completely suck at dating more than one guy at a time. (See this post if you need further clarification.) There was a possibility that I Colorado Steve wouldn't make it in until late in which case Cowboy Kerry was on standby. But, Colorado Steve did make it in and we went to dinner.

I had plans with my girlfriend for her birthday Saturday day and Saturday night I was going to go out with Colorado Steve again. I mean, he did fly into Texas just to meet me. Well, I think. Who knows how he spent his Saturday day. Anyway, I had exchanged some texts with Cowboy Kerry Saturday morning and all was pleasant. When he texted me Saturday night I didn't see it until later so I just let it go and didn't answer him. By Sunday afternoon, I had voicemail messages, texts and emails. His flame was a raging bon fire while mine wasn't even a tiny spark yet. I was still holding the match.

So there I was. I didn't hate Colorado Steve like I thought I would (or like I should have- wait. Hate is a strong word. I should have known better) and I had two polarizing personalities vying for my attention.

And, though I'm sure he was a really nice person and would have showered me with attention and while I can certainly appreciate the fact that he liked me, I had to cut Cowboy Kerry loose.

Or disappear in a puff of smoke.

Or get the hell out of Dodge.

Or run like the wind. And, I'm so glad I did because I might have missed meeting Dulce de TubaDad.

So, that is all the dating stories I have from the last ten months and the last two of those ten months with DTD have been the happiest months I can remember. Ever. And that's a long time.

Day 55 - Meet the Parents

Dulce de TubaDad and I had another full weekend together. While at dinner on Saturday night, DTD announces: Tomorrow after church you can come over and meet my parents. Bring your bathing suit.

Gulp.

Smirk.

A little extra beat in the heart.

I reply: Okay. And after lunch you can come meet my mom.

My mom was coming into town for a couple of days.

Me: Do your parents know you're bringing me?

DTD: No. We'll surprise them.

So, we went to church. Good.

We went to the Taj Mahal of Walmart's to pick up a few items.

He called his mom. No answer. We arrived at his parents home. No one there. Call mom. She answers. Whew. She's at Kroger's. Mom, I have someone with me that I want you and Dad to meet. Whew. We get the hidden key and go inside.

We decide to make out on the couch like a couple of high school kids and just when he's got his hand up my shirt his mom walks in.

HA HA. Just kidding.

He showed me some pictures and we read the paper like regular old people until mom, dad, brother, sister in law and nephew all show up.

His family was, of course, very nice. We had smoothies, pizza, beer and swam in the pool until we needed to leave and meet my mom at my house.

DTD, my mom and I sat around talking about my family and the reunion that my mom had just been to. I was happy he was there to meet my mom because I don't see her much as it is.

It was a good day.

The last thing DTD, my mom and I did together was unload my new five foot metal rooster, Norman, who had been stuck in the back or my car over night. Norman was pissed about being stored in the hot car over night and kept saying, "Thanks Motherfucker, Thanks."

But that's another story for another blog and Norman's swearing only added to the sweetness of the day.

I guess it's time to share this post due to the last post: I want to remember this moment for the rest of my life.

It is July 29, 2011 at 1:50pm and I have written the following post not knowing when I will actually hit the "Publish Post" button. So I have no idea what day it will actually be posted or if it will be posted. But here's what I was thinking on July 29th:

How is that I want to both run to the highest tower and scream out the joy that I am feeling AND want to savor the moment from Day 45 for myself a little bit longer?

On Day 45, I was snuggled up with Dulce de TubaDad watching Old School (You're my boy, Blue!) and TubaDad says, "I know what you're thinking." I look at him and respond with "What am I thinking?" To which he says, "You're thinking about what I was going to tell you."

Well, no. I wasn't thinking that. See, on Day 43 on the Oompa Tuba cult phone call with TubaDad, he tells me that he is going to tell me something on Friday. I set my alarm on my iPod to go off to remind me to ask him just in case he hasn't told me. I wasn't sure what he was going to say. I thought it would be something thoughtful and kind like he always says but I didn't know what and I didn't want to assume what he was going to say. When the alarm went off, I didn't ask him to tell me because at that moment I felt like he would tell me when he was ready.

Do you want to know what he told me on Day 45?

He said, "I'm in love with you."

And I sat there for a moment looking at him with a smile on my face and I finally say, "I know." And then he laughed at me.

I know because I feel it. And, it's a feeling like no other feeling that I have ever felt.

And I said back, "And you know, too. That I'm in love with you."

What happens when you act like a hypocrite and someone you love calls you out on it? If you're me, you cry like a dumb baby.

Day 48 - Also known as the first day that Dulce de TubaDad made Hope cry.

Let's back track on a couple of things.

I'm an advocate for NOT texting while driving. I want to know that my loved ones are safe and when someone texts and drives there is a greater chance for operator error. When someone text and drives they not only put themselves in danger but they put everyone else around them in danger. And, I don't want to be that last text that a loved one receives because they were trying to reply to my text message.

This video had a huge impact on my view of texting and driving. Seriously, find 10 minutes to watch this video.


I have expressed my feelings to Dulce de TubaDad that I don't want him to text and drive. Because I love him and I want him to be safe. I don't want him to be involved in an accident due to our texting each other. You get it.

This past weekend while spending quality time together we discussed the game of Slug Bug. He and his kids search for out of state license plates instead of the Volkswagon Beetle. When they see one, they call it and just like in slug bug the non-seer gets slugged.

I professed the game dumb! Because that's what mature adults do when something is hard and they're not able to win. This is dumb! Dulce de TubaDad has great eye sight and more experience with the game. He kept tapping my leg with Oklahoma, Colorado and Louisiana. Plainly, I sucked at the game.

Until I said, I don't want to be hit anymore. If you see an out of state plate, you get a kiss. And suddenly, I was very good at the game. Better stakes. Just saying.

So when I was driving home on Day 48, I laughed when I saw an Iowa license plate in my stop and go traffic commute. I whipped out my phone and snapped a picture of it, typed a brief message and hit send.

Several miles up the road at a red light I saw Mississippi! Phone, snap, and when I got to daycare I typed out the message that he now owed me two kisses.

It was suppose to be cute and fun but at that moment I became a hypocrite. And I was endangering myself and those around me. And he called me on it. And he called me a hypocrite. And I did not like being called a hypocrite. Though I clearly was.

And I became emotional because I felt like I had disappointed him. I tried holding back the tears but they came out anyway. Stupid tears.

And so we were stuck in this cycle of feeling bad. I felt bad because I felt like I disappointed him. He felt bad for making me cry. I felt bad because I broke my own rule. He felt bad for making me cry. (I know. I already said that.) I felt bad because he felt bad for making me feel bad. And it was a vicious cycle of feeling bad for ourselves and for each other.

Sigh.

But don't worry. Day 48 rolled into Day 49 on the evening phone call and it all worked out fine. Our love tanks are still full and overflowing. It won't be the last time that I disappoint him because I'm not perfect. And, it won't be the last time the man makes me cry because he's not perfect. And these imperfect moments will make all the rest of our moments special and more beautiful.

What the hell is Colorado Steve doing in Texas on June 22nd when he said he wasn't going to be here until July 1?

I started talking to Colorado Steve at the end of March or beginning of April. Can't remember and don't actually care.

He said that he wanted to let me know that he didn't actually live in Dallas yet but he was planning on moving here July 1. Okay. That's fine. As long as the goal is Dallas then we can get to know each other. No big deal.

We talked on the phone a lot. He said, "If I never see snow again I'll be a happy person." and I thought OK! This guy and I are going to get along. Because I hate snow. It is evil. My hell would not be a burning inferno. It would be wet, freezing cold, nasty snow! Bleh!

As conversations went on I was perplexed by the guy. He would say things that just turned me off. Sweeping negative generalizations. Running is gay. Anyone that watches the royal wedding is an idiot. And other off colored racist marks. Eh. But then he would have these really tender moments. I send my college kid care packages about once a month. He would compliment my pictures on one phone call and on the next he told me which pictures he didn't like and why.

Notice I had more negatives than positives up there. Jeez, Hope. Sometimes you need to trust your gut and not give the jerk a chance but I was on this kick where I was really trying to be open to the possibility of love. There's just way too much to type about this guy.

He came in town to meet me. He was on his best behavior and was charming and nice. The phone calls were becoming less frequent. He flew in town in May. His best behavior was just good behavior. The phone calls were becoming less frequent. He flew in town again at the end of May. His behavior was eh- borderline just freaking bad. And, he was just too stressed out with work, his move, his kid and life to talk to me on the phone.

Wait? I'm suppose to be an oasis? This is the honeymoon phase. I certainly didn't need the cult like phone calls that I loved having with Dulce de TubaDad but a 30 minute conversation a couple of nights a week would have been nice. And not a 30 minute conversation of just me listening to him. You know give and take. I ask you about your day. And then you ask me about my day?

I was finally able to come to terms with what the fuck are you doing wasting valuable time on this guy? He's a jerk and not someone you want to spend another day with much less the rest of your life with! So I finally ended it. And the voices in my head said, "It's about time, idiot!"

Best decision I ever made because my next date was #14- Dulce de TubaDad.

Be very careful what you pray for- you might just get it.

Dear God,

You have a funny sense of humor.

I went to church today with Dulce de TubaDad. It's the first time I've been to church since the one time in January of this year and who knows when before that. Well, I guess you know.

And I liked it.

I liked the message. I liked the way it was delivered. I liked who I was sitting next to at church. I especially liked the person I was sitting next to at church.

So, this is how you get me back to church? You deliver me a really great man?

It's a great deal! Thank you. I am grateful.

Sincerely,
A very happy and content, Hope

PS maybe a little less arm raising during the songs? Or maybe not. I can just keep mine down, right?

Who knew that Ferris Bueller grew up to be such a groper?

It was Chicfila Wednesday at my house when I received a phone call from my Aunt T. She lives about an hour away from me but she was in my area at a hotel with some friends of hers. And guess what. She met someone that she would really like to set me up with.

I laughed and got the details.

Ferris Bueller was newly divorced. Had two small children. Worked as a pilot for the FAA and was in town training and called San Diego home. Bottom line- my aunt felt sorry for him and wanted me to go out with him. Ah, well, she thought he was nice and I'm sure he didn't grope her when they met so how was she to know.

We met at the hotel bar for drinks and apps on Friday evening. He did look like an older Ferris Bueller. Short like him too but cute enough. I wore my short heels for him. The conversation was easy and we decided to move to a real bar with a live band.

I don't think he was drunk but maybe he was.

Let me just say I am an affectionate person. I like to hold hands. I like to hug and kiss. Public displays of affection don't bother me one bit.

But I'm not really interested in being felt up on the first date in a bar in front of everyone! Jeez! I politely with a laugh moved his hand south of the bosom firmly on the waistline because I'm a cool chick that way. Maybe he's nervous. I'm sure he hasn't been on a date in a while.

The night went on. It was fun. It was okay. It wasn't a love match or anything but it was a night out.

And then it was time to end. And Mr. Groper turned into Mr. Begger.

Please see me again. Please, please! Please come up to my room. Please, please. Please touch me. Whoa! Seriously men! Save it for another date other than the FIRST! Unless of course she's touching you and then by all means go with it if you want to.

I suddenly turned into Ed Rooney wanting to get Ferris Bueller expelled.

Expelled from my car!

It was pitiful and sad and I felt sorry for him but not sorry enough to touch him.

Groper? Groper? Groper? Groper? Groper?

When I first started re-writing this blog on June 2nd, I told you that I had been on 14 first dates. I started dating again in November so that would have been 7 months. 2 a month. I think Evan suggests 2 a week but that must be for a single person because there is no way in hell I could manage two a week. My evidence is this post.

But let me review this list of men:
1. Mr Southerland - I word vomited on him.
2. Crazy Sexy Jim - Booty call man.
3. Mr. No - Don't drink, don't smoke, don't follow through.
4. Gate 32 - Disappearing over texter.
5. Cartoon Head - Just an over texter.
6. Mr. Cheese - Lies about his age.
7. Just Jim - Too much of an age gap.
8. No. 9. - Oh! Your divorce is not final. My bad.
9. No Nickname #10 - A Top Golf date. I almost won until he pulled out the Big Bertha.
10. iPhone - Called every two hours on a Sunday.
11. I'm Not 5'9" - He wore my lipstick and was not 5' 9".
12. Ferris Bueller- there's a story.
13. Colorado Steve - was in Texas when he was supposed to be in Colorado ruining my 2nd date.
14. Cowboy Kerry - a blurb of a story.
15. Dulce de TubaDad  - We're on day 45 and I'm loving our time together.
16. TheVoice - Almost derailed my whole love train but I got smart. And, Dulce de TubaDad asked me out again. Thank you, God.

I realized that I had misnumbered a few but this is the correct order except I never had a date with #10- iPhone. So I'm not sure what to do with him.

Hmm... Think, Hope. Think.

Executive decision. It's my blog. It's my life. We're discussing actual dates so, I'm taking him out of the list. The list should read like this:

1. Mr Southerland
2. Crazy Sexy Jim
3. Mr. No
4. Gate 32
5. Cartoon Head
6. Mr. Cheese
7. Just Jim
8. No. 9. (who is actually #8)
9. No Nickname #10 (who is actually #9)
10. I'm Not 5'9" (formally numbered 11 before I kicked out iPhone)
11. Ferris Bueller
12. Colorado Steve
13. Cowboy Kerry
14. Dulce de TubaDad
15. TheVoice

So, what is all this list making do for you? Absolutely frenching nothing.

But for me, it clears my head out and now I see that I have 3 men to tell you about: Ferris Bueller, Colorado Steve, & Cowboy Kerry because I've already told you about TheVoice and I'm currently updating you on the sweetness known as Dulce de TubaDad.

Somebody start the band so we can get this parade moving!

Oh! I'm so happy!

When you talk on the phone for 3 hours 3 nights in a row you talk about a lot. I'm trying to capture it all so I can remember but sadly I've already forgotten some. But I do remember a couple of things, too.

Like being transparent. Being transparent means you are being honest with the other person and you trust the other person with what you are saying and feeling.

And, holding hands. Dulce de TubaDad told me he likes holding my hand. He says I squeeze his hand as if checking to see if it is real. He squeezes back to assure me that it is. And then I squeeze back harder.

I think my second squeeze is a squeeze that says, "Oh! I'm so happy!"

Have you heard of that new cult called Oompa Tubas? This is a real email.

From: Hope
Sent: Thursday, July 28, 2011 10:51 AM
To: Fabulous Pregnant Fitness Trainer, Jennifer

Dear Fabulous Pregnant Fitness Trainer,
I regret to inform you that I will not be at my regularly scheduled workout today. I have joined a new cult called the Oompa Tubas. We’re a cult of 2 and we stay up talking into the wee hours of the morning. It’s that initiation period where you’re deprived of food and sleep except I’ve only been deprived of sleep. I will be seeking a wee nap to try and compensate for this week’s lost 9 hours of sleep.
Oom Pa! (that’s tuba sounds)

Hopefully see you on Friday.

just a few of a lot more to come

A phone conversation from Day 42 - July 26, 2011.

There is a feeling of happiness and love that is overwhelming me at the moment. On one hand I embrace it and accept it for all it is and all it has potential to be. It's everything that I have been preparing myself for physically, emotionally, intellectually and spiritually for the last ten months. But my old self still has the other hand where I warn myself that it's only day 42 and there is a lot more to learn and experience. So, while talking to Dulce de TubaDad on the phone I asked him, "Is 42 days a lot or just a few?"

He tapped into my love of pizza.

DTD: So say you have 42 pieces of Little Caesar's pizza.

H: Eh, okay.

DTD: Not so impressive right?

H: No. It is pizza but not very good pizza.

DTD: Right. But what if you have one really good Burrata Mozzarella Pie with pepperonis and a really good salad to go with it from Fireside Pies? Which one sounds better?

H: Well, of course, I want the Burrata Mozzerella Pie. That was a very nice date by the way.

DTD: Right, because it's not quantity. It's quality.

And I completely agree. The 42 days that I have experienced dating Dulce de TubaDad have been pure quality. Everyone of them. But this also made him wonder why I asked that question. He sensed my doubt. And he had an answer. A really good answer.

He tells me this next sentence slowly, with thoughtful pauses, carefully choosing the right words,

It doesn't matter if it's a second, a minute, a week, a month or a year, when it feels right in your heart you know it's right so 42 days is a lot but it's also just a few.

And at that moment, I sent up a silent, "Thank you, God and the whole universe for putting this man in my path!"

On August 12th I will be 42 years old. I have lived a full life with many experiences. As a child I endured my parents painful divorce. And later, I was anxious about their reconciliation but then felt a sense of relief that they had each other again. I've had boyfriends. Some that I liked more than they liked me. And a few that liked me more than I liked them. I've been married. I birthed two wonderful boys. And, I went through my own divorce. A divorce that I chose. In the case of my divorce, and hind sight, my love tank was sitting on empty for too long. Too much resentment built up and I wasn't able to hold on to my marriage. Dr. Chapman, author of The 5 Love Languages, writes about our basic need to feel loved and the 5 different ways that we feel love. To briefly list them, the 5 Love Languages are Quality Time, Words of Affirmation, Gifts, Acts of Service and Physical Touch. And when the people in our lives speak our love language to us, our love tanks stay full.

In all my 42 years, through the boys that I desperately obsessed over in high school and the walls that I built up in my flighty young adults days, straight up to convincing my ex-husband to finally marry me already, I can honestly say I do not remember a time when my love tank was so overflowing. I'm one of those 1975 gas pumps that doesn't have the automatic shut off valve when the tanks is full and gas is spewing all over the car and the ground. That is my love tank these days.

And the thing that makes it so special is that TubaDad expresses my feelings as his own.

And as we talked day 42 into the early morning of day 43 we both agreed it's a just a few of a lot more to come.

Dude, I hope you are wearing a parachute because this is an emergency.

Just for fun and to break up the sappiness so you don't get a cavity from the sweetness of my relationship, let's finish up the list of men that I met prior to meeting Dulce de Tuba dad.

Do you remember Gate 32? He just disappeared, remember?

And then, he just reappeared.

He said he got sick. And then he went on vacation. And then he went home for the holidays. And now here he is again. Texting me.

Okay, okay. You can't say I didn't give these guys a chance. I know a lot of you would have been like hit the road, Jack. You had your chance and you blew it! But no, not me. I agreed to meet him for drinks. We had drinks. He texted the next day. He called. He arranged another date. He picked me up. We went on a date. He took me home. We kissed good night. Everything was fine.

And then it started. The over texting. Texting all the time. He texted me at 7am on a work day. I texted back. He texted right back. I texted one more time but I had to get ready for work so I didn't text back.

And then something really crazy happened. He texted me 15 times. He called me 3 times. And, he sent me an email.

All of them asking me if I was okay. All between 7:30am and 11:30am.

Dude- no. I am not okay. You just tried to contact me 19 times in the last 4 hours. That's 4.75 times an hour. More than once every 15 minutes.

I have news for you buddy, you're not my emergency contact number. And guess what! You're not going to be my emergency contact number because now I'm completely freaked out!

So, I put on my own oxygen mask, thought about assisting him with his oxygen mask but didn't think too long about it before my leg did that automatice knee jerk thing and I kicked him straight out the emeregency exit.

Deep breaths. Happy thoughts. Whew! I'm glad that's over.

I want to tell you something.

I love when I hear the words, "I want to tell you something" pass over the lips of Dulce de Tuba Dad. Why you ask? Because something sweet has always followed those words.

For example, on June 14th, Day 1, when we were eating cheesecake at The Cheesecake Factory and he followed them with "I just want to tell you that I've had a very nice evening and I'd like to see you again."

And on July 2nd, Day 19, when we were driving home from his friends backyard Fourth of July party on the 2nd and he followed them with "I've had really great three weeks. I like you and I'd like to grow a relationship with you." I also made him list the things he liked about me.

Then there was July 21st, Day 37, when we were talking on the phone (Day 4 of not seeing each other) and he followed them with "Today has been 37 days of us seeing each other and I just wanted to tell you I haven't felt like this in over 20 years." I had to question his counting abilities because it sure feels like longer than 37 days to which we now have a "count up" (instead of a countdown). We decided that it felt longer because we feel comfortable to be ourselves when we're together. The goofy, dorks we actually are. (I was going to type retard instead of dorks but it's only funny if you say it the way Alan from The Hangover says it and where we got it from. Reh-tard not Ree-tard. Comprende? But hey, dorks works just as well.)

Today is July 25th, Day 41, (and it's also a very long Day 8 of only texts and phone calls since we've seen each other) when Evan enters my virtual world. Hello Evan. What's going on in the world of dating advice?

The title of his post from a reader's question reads: Is My Relationship Too Good To Be True? Whoa! Evan! Come on! I've got a nice little bubble going on here. Don't you dare burst it. He goes on to explain how relationship experts say that the passionate phase of relationships last from 18 - 24 months. You get 18 - 24 months of giddy excitement, butterflies, passionate chemistry and that honeymoon feeling before the hard knocks of life take over and you have to turn to choosing to give unconditional love even when the person drives you crazy and you're in the middle of your not so happily ever after. (Okay, I added that last part myself.)

I just want to clarify that this was not my question sent into Evan. Dulce de Tuba Dad and I both point out to each other on a regular basis that we are not perfect. We've shared our imperfections. And so far, we accept them as they are. Part of us. Moments that we hope we have learned from and have become better people for experiencing those moments.

The good news is- I still have 17 - 23 months of giddy excitement, butterflies, passionate chemistry and that honeymoon feeling. And the other good news, as Evan points out, is:

If you have a boyfriend who seems too good to be true, that’s wonderful news. It definitely beats the alternative (men suck, there’s no one out there!)

and

Take your time, enjoy your guy, and you’ll know a lot better in two years if he is, in fact, “too good to be true”.

Which also means that you, my loyal readers, get to endure 17 - 23 months of sappy, sweet stories like this one:

On day 36 Dulce de Tuba Dad and I were texting each other about a solution of when we were going to be able to see each other. We both have kids and want to be careful about the introduction period. His son, the almost 13 year old Tuba Player asks him, "Dad, what are you doing?" to which he answers, "I'm talking to my friend." And then Tuba Player says, "Dad, she's not your friend. She's your girlfriend."

So there you have it. Dulce de Tuba Dad and I are both 42 years old and we are officially boyfriend and girlfriend proclaimed by a 13 year old Tuba Playing son.

Why does that make me laugh? Because it's just like we're back in the ninth grade. Which is kind of how I feel. Like a giddy ninth grade girl that just talked to her boyfriend who just knows he's her Prince Charming.

Who knows if we're going to make it to Day 730 and beyond, but I want to tell you something. I'm looking forward to trying.

What are the chances that my online dating days are over?

50/50? 60/40? 80/20? It's only been a month so 80/20 is probably too high. But, having any chance that my online dating days being over is a really nice thought. No more awkward first dates. No more starting from scratch telling my boring life story. No word vomiting on men. No more awkward first kisses. Which also means no more first kisses. Hmm.. well...you know what? I'm okay with that too as long as there are many kisses to follow that first one. And so far, with Dulce de TubaDad, there have been. So that's a nice thought too. Not to mention all the other good stuff that comes with being in a relationship. Hey, here's a stat from last year: one in eight married couples met online. I bet at the end of this year it's going to be one in seven. Maybe. It could happen.

I'm in that whole dreamy state where it's borderline obsessive and crazy when this new person is all you can think about and your friends are tired of hearing about Mr. Wonderful. It's all about when are going to talk to them again and when are you going to see them again or the least when will I get a text or email from them. And I love how he did this or how he said that and we have this in common and we both drink caramel machiattos.

I've become very cautious when I'm in this lovesick phase because I don't want to overwhelm my Mr. Prospective Happily Ever After. It's that phase when everything else suffers- your job, your house, your kids, your friends- because all you can think about is this new person that makes you feel really good about being you and it's like a drug and you just gotta have some more though I have no idea what that feels like because I've never even smoked marijuana but I'm just guessing that that's what it's like because you just want to be with them. You gotta be with them! And my kids haven't really suffered. Well, not yet because they've been on vacation with their grandparents.

So I just tell myself - Put the phone down, girl. He's got your number. Remember what Evan said, "Stand still." That freaking standing still business is hard! Don't run away from them and don't run to them. Just stand still. With open arms. And a smile. And don't jump up and down. Or have that high pitched girl squeal thing. Just stand still. And smile.

So, I wait patiently for Mr. I'm The Man I'll Do The Pursuing to text or call. Sometimes not so patiently. Sometimes I re-read old texts and re-live the excitement I felt when I got them the first time. Sometimes I throw up a round of Hail Mary's and an Our Father but really Dulce de TubaDad is the perfect communicator. He doesn't over-text or over-call. And believe me- I have known those guys. Bleh! There is a fine line between adoring a girl and smothering the hell out of her. Now that I really like him he could call more and I have initiated 2 conversations via text (I was told the first one nearly knocked him out of his chair) but mostly I just wait until he can't stand it anymore and texts or calls me. And then I'm a giddy ninth grade girl all over again.

So yes- and yay! - I'm still seeing Dulce de TubaDad. I've met some of his friends and he's met some of mine and we both passed the friend test. This past week I had to tell him something difficult. I had to have a conversation that I did not want to have. Or as he says, I had to swallow a frog. So before I saw him Saturday night, I turned to the heavens and I prayed. Maybe it wasn't the best prayer because it went something like this:

Dear God, I'm really tired of you testing me and I think I did pretty good recognizing it right away with The Voice. I know it took longer with Colorado Retard but I've come along way, baby. Oh, sorry- no disrespect, sir. Back to my point, God. You see, I really like TubaDad and when I tell him this thing tonight maybe we could make a deal? If you feel so inclined, I mean. Well, this is how I plan on taking it, okay? If he takes it well then he's a keeper. If he doesn't take it well then I should throw him back and maybe I'll just be single forever but I don't really want to be single forever because you know, you gave me a big heart with a lot of love so it really would be sad if he didnt' take it well. So, if it's your plan that we're supposed to be together he better take it well. I mean, I would like for him to take it well. But, I'll leave it to you.

Ay-I'd really appreciate some courage while you're at it-men.

Can't you just picture God rolling his eyes at me?

I picture Morgan Freeman as God with a wide grin, his chin resting in his palm with his elbow on his knee nodding his head back and forth saying "What in the world have I created? Women!"

And then he gets up and calls Evan to see how his clients are doing.

I love Morgan Freeman.

I turned my Match.com profile to OFF.

Have you noticed that I haven't written many updates about past dates on here lately?

I wonder why that is?

It's all TubaDad's fault.

We've spent a fair amount of time together. Mostly him making me dinner, watching some movies, going out to eat, and strolling around.

And all those other guys that I went on dates with don't seem to matter much anymore. Their crazy texting/calling antics and rudeness has all disappeared with the sweetness known as TubaDad. (I wish I had named him Dulce. It defines him better and on our first date we had Dulce de Leche Caramel Cheesecake at The Cheesecake Factory.)

I didn't expect to like him as much as I do. But I really do like him. And that is scary for me to verbalize (or write in this case) because sometimes I stand in that place of fear- the "what if it doesn't work out". Well, if it doesn't work out I will be sad and I'll move on a better person for having putting my heart out there. I try to hop right back out of that fear-based circle every time I find myself there. There is one thing for sure. If I don't give it a go with my whole heart then I'll never know.
 
And I think my Dulce de TubaDad is worth any amount of heartache I may or may not have to experience down the road.

TubaDad Update

I like him.

I think he likes me.

We have a date on Friday.

And maybe on Saturday.

The End.

That's What I Get

In my last post I told you about iPhone and how he liked to talk on the phone. He called me one day at work. It was about 11:00am and I thought it would be a quick hello and then I'd be off to my lunch workout.

iPhone talked and talked and talked. Telling me in complete detail a story about his job. He was a fireman.

Firemen are our friends! They're so brave and strong and tall and handsome!

Talk about ruining a great catch phrase! iPhone gave firemen a bad name.

I was finally able to tell him I had to hang up as I was walking into the workout room. I was already exhausted. My trainer was there training with one of our security guards. I immediately let out one of those really long and loud coping sighs because I had a lot to cope with and I vented to my coworkers about Mr. TalksAlot iPhone.

We all laugh. Ha ha. I go change clothes trying to let go of the irritation to have a good workout when the security guard says, "Hope, that's what you get for being on those online dating sites."

That's what I get? What the hell does that mean- that's what I get?

Really? That's what I get? For trying to find a man to share my life and my love?

My not so tactful response was "What the fuck are you talking about that's what I get? Where the hell do you think I'm going to meet single men my age if I'm not online? That's what I get? Are you serious?"

Security is always wanting to run credit checks on the men I go on dates with and I refuse to treat these guys as criminals. He was kind of taken aback with my response but he stood his ground about all men being crazy online.

Security: Well, look at what you've gotten so far. And what are you talking about single men your age?

Hope: Single men. You know- not married. My age. That would be 40 and over. Do you have someone you want to set me up with if you know so many single men my age that don't want to have any more children?

Security: No.

Hope: Then shut up with that's what I get shit before I punch you in the face and that's what you get.

Not my finest moment. Now I'm not just irritated with one over-caller, I'm furious with all men in the whole world.

Some days there isn't any hope.

JustJim, iPhone & No.9

I rang in the New Year with JustJim. He was a set up from my aunts friend. She had talked about setting us up for a while but we were never single at the same time. JustJim was 52 or 54. I can't remember. He took my boys and I to Main Event on New Year's Eve. The boys loved it! It was a very nice and I enjoyed his company but when it came down to pursuing anything we were too different and the age gap was too much.

Try, try again.

iPhone - well, guess! Come on. Read his nickname.

The guy liked to talk on the phone. A lot!

And, while I think I can be an interesting person with all the different blogs and jobs that I have, I really don't have that much to say if you call me every two hours. Seriously. I'm just not THAT interesting. And, I'm not that interested in every minute detail of your last two hours either. Really. I'm just not.

We never actually met so I guess my number just went down one. But, we talked so much on the phone that I never wanted to meet him but I felt like I knew him.

Moving on.

I must have had some kind of brain fart when I agreed to meet No.9. You see, I don't want to date men who aren't actually divorced yet and No.9 was honest about it but I just missed it. No.9 was nice but I did ask myself how I ended up on dates with men that don't follow sports. No.9 and I went bowling on our first date- bowling on Super Bowl Sunday. Bowling... Super Bowl. Kind of funny now that I think about it. He knew absolutely NOTHING about football. Huh?

We both had an interest in art and photography. He is actually a really great photographer. But, I knew there was no connection when we were sitting in the IMAX movie theater watching Wired to Win and he put his hand on my knee and the tension that ran through me was excruciating. Talk about being wired. But not to win. It wasn't an inappropriate touch but it wasn't a welcome touch either. He asked me out again but I declined.

Persevere, my friends. Persevere.

6, 11 & 10

When I restarted this little blog I told you had dated 14 men in 8 months. Let’s bump that up to 16 in 9 and let me tell you about 6, 11 & 10.

6- His real last name is Cheese. I’m an expert Google researcher (or crazy stalker depending on how you look at it) and I can find out a lot about these guys (and they me which is why I write this blog under an alias!) But I digress.

Mr. Cheese admitted to lying about his age. He wasn’t 39. He was 41. My same age. But, he was tired of 50 year old women hitting on him. My thoughts on this are so what they send you an email. You think I don’t get emails from men in their 50’s. 60’s? I get inappropriate emails all the time. I ignore them and don’t lie about anything in my profile. Not my age and not my height. Which leads me to 11.

I kindly refer to 11 as You’re Not 5’9”. I was glad that he recognized me because I would not have recognized him. We had a lovely dinner and enjoyed the band playing. He was funny. He needed some chapstick and all I had was some that had a shimmer in it. He said he didn’t care and he used it. So there he sat with pink, shiny lips. It was comical.

Then he made a statement that has had me thinking the last couple of months. The statement was: I’m trying to figure out why you’re single. We’ll revisit this later. I want to stay focused on him for the moment. When dressing for the evening I was sure to wear my short heels because his profile stated that he was 5’9”. Do you see where this is going?

As we walked together out to our cars, he looks over at me and says, “You’re tall.” And the thought through my head was “And, you’re not 5’9””

I am exactly 5’7”. I had my brother measure me at Thanksgiving when my nephew who is the same height as me said he was 5’ 9” and I panicked- Had I grown? And I would not let anything else happen until we found a measuring tape and measured me! In conclusion, You’re Not 5’ 9” just disappeared.

Let’s move on to 10.

There is nothing fun, silly or exciting to tell you about 10. Not even a silly nickname. He was a normal guy that seemed to be a hard worker. He was a teacher. We played Top Golf together. When I was close to winning, he pulled out the Big Bertha to drive out to the edge to get more points. I wasn’t impressed. He sent me a text a couple of days after our date that said while I was a fun girl to get to know, he wasn’t my guy. The End.

But, back to that statement: I’m trying to figure out why you’re single.

I laughed when he said it and exclaimed, “ME TOO!” And I’ve thought a lot about it since that date. I could be with someone if I really, really wanted to just be with someone. Not all of the guys that I have gone out with this past year fall under this category but I don’t want to just be with anyone. I want to be with someone special. Someone that I feel confident will give me the love I deserve and that I also will choose (choose!) to give my love to because I have learned that love is not something that just happens to us like magic in the night.

You love someone because you choose to love them.

I'm pretty sure I would be a rockstar client if I could afford to pay Evan.

Single lady friends. Please. Sign up for Evan's emails. I cannot tell you how many times I have received the perfect email advice right at the perfect time.

I want to share the email that I received today from Evan. And, I only receive it because I'm on his mailing list. I have purchased the Why He Disappeared Online and I did have his team help me with my profile but these free emails seem to show up just when I need them.

You ever have a friend who worries you a little bit? (Hope, here. I'm probably that friend for some of you reading this. Sorry! I'm working on it.)



You care about her deeply but you can’t help but question her decision-making.


You’ve stuck by her for years, through ups and downs, and have done everything in your power to ensure that she’s happy.


When she got into a big fight with her boss, you supported her, even though you weren’t sure she was entirely right.


When she got herself in trouble after having unprotected sex, you supported her, even though she was clearly drunk and irresponsible.


When she chose a guy who was, objectively, a jackass, you supported her, because you’re her close friend, and that’s what friends do.


But isn’t it hard to sit there and watch her make these mistakes?


Don’t you just want to tell her:


“Choose a career that makes you happy! Surround yourself by good people who love and nurture you! Don’t get so anxious every time something goes wrong! It’ll be okay, I promise.”


Yet, you don’t say that. And for your friend, it seems things are never okay.


Still, you continually find new ways help her to change her ways – and do so with compassion. It’s no easy trick, is it?


Yeah, that’s what it’s like to be me.


For 4-5 hours every day, I try to find new ways to break through to my clients. Sometimes I succeed. Sometimes I fail.


Almost always, I get some form of irrational pushback.


Irrational pushback means that you don’t want the results you’re getting, but you don’t want to change either. Irrational pushback is something like:


“I want to lose 30lbs, but I don’t want to diet or go to the gym.”


OR


“I want to become an Olympic swimmer, but I don’t like getting wet.”


This is why I have a job.


If you’re frustrated with men, fed up with online dating, despondent at your prospects and can’t see how YOU can possibly be responsible for your own fate…


We really need to talk.


You may be a great friend who perpetually watches her friend make mistakes, but if YOU’VE never figured out what YOU’RE doing wrong, something has to change.


Click here to learn more about how having a coach who calls you out on your blind spots is the ONLY thing that will get you unstuck.


And keep reading to learn about your biggest blind spot – and how changing your behavior can instantly open up a whole world of possibilities...

Dear Hope,


I have two lovely clients right now who are driving me crazy. (I would probably be one of these clients. If I could afford to hire a dating coach.)


I want to help them so bad, but they’re giving me the irrational pushback.


Janelle is 40, a teacher with a creative bent. Before she came to me, she was sleeping with a man for four months and she fell really hard for him.


The only problem was: he wasn’t falling for her.


The second she brought up the idea of a commitment, he freaked out, bailed, and hasn’t spoken to her since. That was three months ago.


Janelle is still trying to figure out what she did wrong and how to get him back. (No! Janelle! Who cares! He's not the one for you! See. I listen, Evan.)


Sigh.


Liz, 45, bright and nature-loving, had very little dating experience following the end of her 25-year relationship. Which makes it no surprise that she quickly fell for a man soon after her divorce.


She, too, has been sleeping with her guy about once a week. He hasn’t called her his girlfriend, integrated her into his life, said he loved her, or escalated the intensity of their relationship in the past four months.


Every week, I get on the phone with Liz, listening to her tell me how it tears her up emotionally that her booty call has no interest in stepping things up.


Every week, I get on the phone with Janelle, listening to her lament the loss of the emotionally stunted man who disappeared without a trace three months ago.


Neither is willing to get rid of the wrong man, so neither will find the right man.


This isn’t my OPINION. This is a FACT.


Every second Liz and Janelle invest into holding onto the “potential” of these commitmentphobic guys is a second that they’re NOT out finding the man who DOES want to commit.


Tape that to your mirror, okay? (I got it, Evan! I got it! I will not waste one emotional inkling on a man that does not want to commit to me. I'm such a pro at this dating thing!)


If you’re looking for a long-term committed relationship, it doesn’t matter how cute he is, how smart he is, how funny he is, how rich he is, or how great the sex is. (Amen!)


Literally ANY random guy on Match.com is a better bet than a man who has made it clear that he does NOT want to marry you.


Wrap your head around that for a second.


Even if you’ve got a 1 in 20 chance with some dude on Match, that’s still HIGHER than the odds of the man who texts you once a week becoming your husband.


Those odds are ZERO, my friend. (Odds. Math. Not really my strong point, Evan. Let's draw a picture. :))


A man who wants to be your boyfriend calls you every day, makes plans regularly, calls you his girlfriend, introduces you to his friends, talks about a future, etc.


If he’s not doing it, you’re wasting your precious time, Hope.


“But wait”, you say, “It’s too early. Don’t men need time to decide if they want to be your boyfriend?”


Yes. Yes, they do. So let’s figure out how long it usually takes, okay?


Think back to your five most recent boyfriends (who weren’t already friends before you started dating). (Uh, darling. I will have to go really far back to get 5! There was Colorado Steve though I'm not really sure I can call him a boyfriend, Darts, Utah, my exhusband- wait- I was friends with both Utah and my ex before we started dating. NO wonder I suck at this!)


How long did it take for those new men to declare their interest in a committed relationship with you? One date? One week? One month? Two months, tops? (Evan, it took 5 years for exhusband to decide to marry me and that was with coersion which I don't recommend. We are divorced afterall.)


I’m betting it was sooner, not later.


Generally between a week and a month, from my experience.


So if you’re with a guy who hasn’t stepped up to the plate yet, you know what?


He’s not going to.


He’s using you until he finds someone he likes better.


He’s getting his rocks off without commitment because you allow him to.


And now it’s time for you to cut him loose.


“Hey, Brad… It’s been fun getting to know you, but I’m not looking for a casual relationship, I’m looking for a boyfriend. And after two months of seeing you once a week, it’s clear to me we want different things. You seem like a great guy; I wish you the best of luck in finding the right girl. No hard feelings, but you can lose my number. Take care.”


That’s it.


You can literally do this with your waste-of-time guy when you finish reading this.


Because, honestly, I can’t take any more tales like this from women I care about:


Just this week, my client, Sheri, told me that she’s falling for a man who’s been divorced SIX times and is readily shopping for Wife #7. (And I thought three was bad!)


What am I supposed to say to her when she’s intoxicated with his looks, intelligence and charisma? Here’s what I came up with:


“If I told you that I had a financial advisor who went bankrupt six times, would you give him all of your retirement funds to invest?”


Laugh if you want.


Sheri did. Yet she’s still seeing her charming, chapel-hopping paramour.


And so, Hope, I’m going to tell you what your once a week guy and best friend won’t tell you – once and for all.


Some guys can’t make anybody happy. (And no one is going to change that.)


It doesn’t matter if you have a great connection or he is an amazing person.


All that matters is whether he’s declared himself your boyfriend in the first 6 weeks.


If not, it’s nobody’s fault but your own if he breaks your heart six months later.


And this time, you can’t say you didn’t see it coming.


Are you still stuck on a guy from the past? (not anymore!)


Are you still seeing a guy who won’t commit? (nope.)


Check out Why He Disappeared and break those chains forever.


Every second you’re hung up on the wrong guy is a second you’re not looking for the right one.


And don’t you think you deserve a guy who WANTS to be with you?


Yeah, I do, too.


Click here to learn more.


Warmest wishes and much love,


Your friend, Evan

The man speaks the truth. Go over to Evan's website today and browse around. That's http://www.evanmarckatz.com/.

Third Date Butterflies

Single ladies. If you are reading this, I beg of you to read the next statement and repeat it out loud- give the guy that you don't have those pesky instant butterflies with a second and third chance!

If you read yesterday's post you read that I agreed with TheVoice when he said he was better looking than TubaDad. TheVoice was wrong. And, I was wrong.

Hear that? I was wrong.

Last night TubaDad made dinner for me. And while I stood there in his kitchen watching him cook for me and listening to him tell me a story all I could think of was, "hey, he's really cute. Darn cute." And I really wanted to let my lips fall off my face to see if he would catch them. But I didn't.

But I did feel some pesky butterflies.

I don't like cake filling with pineapple and coconut.

Over analyzing and dissecting every word and action is something I am very good at and it's something that drives me absolutely crazy about myself. I believe that the Universe is conspiring to help me make my dreams come true but it likes to constantly test me as to what it is I actually want. It's starting to piss me off to be honest.

So, let's discuss the Friday night date with TheVoice.

TheVoice gives me butterflies and makes me laugh. I had fun on our date. We started at one bar, and bar hopped to other places throughout the night. We went through each others wallets, we discussed exes, his lips fell off his face and mine caught them, he gave me some flowers from the flower pot next to our table, we drank too much and I kicked his ass in darts. I would like nothing else to jump off the high dive into believing that he's my next husband but he's already planning for me to be his next ex wife. There are already three of them and before you go off judging him let's not call him a three time loser- let's call him a three time learner (I read that in a soul mate book.) and I believe at his core, he's a good guy even if I'm not the girl for him. He was being cheeky, I know, when he introduced me to the strangers sitting next us at the bar we were at as, "this is my future ex wife" but over analyzing and dissecting- that's what I do. I'm already the ex! How did that happen? How did we fall out of love so quickly?

We discussed the Wednesday night farce of me texting him while waiting for another date. He makes the comment, "But I'm better looking than him." to which I reply, "That's a true statement." but what I didn't say was, (because I'm not quick witted enough, damn it!) "but that's just the icing on the cake. What's the cake? Do I like the cake? Or, does it have some gross filling in it that's has little chunks of pineapple and those strands of coconut? Yuck."

TheVoice says he has a knack of reading people, "for example," he says, "I can tell you really like me." Which is also a true statement. I like you so much that it scares the hell out of me. Thankfully, I didn't verbalize that but I kind of wonder if he saw it on my face since he has a knack of reading people.

Then TheVoice says this, "I'm a bad boy."

Let's analyze and dissect that statement, shall we?

Dear Universe, I do not want a bad boy. Bad boys make girls feel insecure and crazy, and frankly, not two attributes I like feeling. What I would like, dear Universe, is a kind, caring, fun man who wants to love me and make me happy sharing laughter, good times and bad times and that would like for me to reciprocate those feelings for him. THAT is what I want. I think that is what we all want.

So, when TheVoice says I'm a bad boy, I should believe him, right? He's telling me who he is, right? Was that him being cheeky? Was it a true warning or just a funny statement? Honestly, I have no idea. I guess we will only know with how he follows up after the date.

What I do know is that I can't let those butterflies of attraction make me crazy and insecure. I have to keep a level head and see what's actually under the icing because as handsome as the icing is, it's the cake that actually matters, otherwise, it's just sugary icing that will just wind up giving you a stomach ache.

So, it's not that I don't hope to hear from TheVoice again but when TubaDad called on Saturday, I happily accepted the invitation to join him for dinner and a movie.

Maybe I'll stop by the store and pick up a cake.

Cloud 9

My logical, rational self realizes that this may be premature because I have only seen the icing on the cake (and the icing is loud and funny and really cute with the most beautiful green/hazel eyes I have ever seen), but when I left the restaurant where I just met TheVoice, his best friend and TheVoice's 19 year old son (it was an impromptu invitation to join them after their golf game and after work for me), I smiled the whole drive to my girlfriends house and as I bound into her home just like Tigger, and with the a huge goofy smile on my face and giddy butterflies in my stomach, I clearly announced to my friends that I had just met my future husband.

A funny thing happened while waiting for my date.

Let's talk real time. Well, like last night.

So far, everyone I've written about has had some time pass between the actual date and the publishing time of these posts but last night was way too classic.

Here are the players:
Me -  Cute, sweet, funny me. I think Sandra Bullock will play me in the movie.

TubaDad - Nice guy. His son plays the tuba and it was a funny story. We were meeting for dinner at 7:30 at roof top pizza place that features music. This is our second date. I'm thinking Stanley Tucci will play him but Stanley may be too old. Give me a 40 year old bald man. Maybe Jason Statham if he can do an American accent.


TheVoice - We have a date planned for Friday night. Tomorrow. He offered to pick my up on his motorcycle but I declined for the first date. We've shared a couple of emails and one phone call yesterday at lunch. He has a smooth, beautiful, deep voice. A new comer may have to play him because I can't find an actor that has both the deep voice and the looks of a 45 year old Caucasian man. Michael Clarke Duncan's voice and Mark Harmon's appearance but I could be totally off since I haven't actually met him yet.

Colorado Steve - He's relocating to Texas and suppose to be moving here next week. We "dated" April through early June. He came into town to meet me. We talked on the phone for hours. Well, he talked and I listened. He became super stressed and the phone calls dropped off. My gut was saying "this isn't the one, girl" but I like to give guys a fair chance. Or, I'm just stupid. I think I made the right decision by calling this one off. I think he will be played by a really cocky Gerard Butler and he has to have a weird Oregon accent.
 
Okay- so there I was waiting for TubaDad. I was a little early so I send a text at 7:29 saying: I'm here. I just wanted to make sure you aren't waiting upstairs.
 
7:31 - he texts back:  Me too, where are you. I have my speedo on ;) I'm sexy.
 
I think, "Hmm, is that out of character?" I look up and there, strutting down the sidewalk is Colorado Steve. With a date. Wait. What is Colorado Steve doing in Southlake. And oh my freaking God, they're coming in here.
 
I have an adrenaline spike and I'm in flight mode to the ladies room and I'm texting the whole way- Are you upstairs?
 
I'm in the bathroom still at 7:33 when I get "Yep, I'm waiting for you :), not"
 
I leave the bathroom, heart pumping like crazy, and ask the guy at the door if the gentleman in blue had gone upstairs and he confirmed that he had. So, I'm standing on the sidewalk wondering if I'm going to have to go upstairs and face both TubaDad and Colorado Steve. That won't be awkward. No, not awkward at all.
 
7:35 - this texts arrives: Hmmm, I have an upstairs, could be interesting, but I don't ride motorcycles on the first date.
 
And that's when I nearly throw up and pass out right there on the sidewalk in Southlake because of the realization that I've been texting TheVoice, not TubaDad.
 
So there I was. Waiting for TubaDad, erroneously texting TheVoice when the last person I expect to see, Colorado Steve, walks up with a date sending me into a heart pumping, head spinning frenzy where I am now expecting to throw up and pass out at any moment when TubaDad shows up, TheVoice is still texting me wondering what the hell kind of nut job I am and Colorado Steve is in Texas with a date at the same restaurant where I'm supposed to be on date!
 
The only thing that could have been funnier is if the other 13 men that I've dated in the last 8 months had shown up, I actually did throw up and then passed out. That would have been hilarious. But thankfully, that did not happen.

No Drinking, No Smoking, and No Follow Through

Would it bother you if your date could not drink alcohol? I didn't think it would bother me but when Mr. No Drink and I met for dinner I felt awkward.

I arrived at the restaurant first and ordered myself a beer. He showed up and we got a table and had dinner.

There wasn't anything out of the ordinary about him. He was cute. He had a hard childhood and lived with foster parents from the age of about 15 or so. He has never been married and has no children.

The funniest part of our date was when he told me about another lady he dated. It went something like this:

They had a nice evening and agreed to see each other again the next night but the next night our area was under extreme storm advisory so they agreed to reschedule. Mr. No Drink decided to stay home and was flipping through the channels. He landed on TVLand and a new reality show High School Reunion.

Lo and behold, there is the girl he had just been on a date with the night before. He described it as being surreal. Maybe he could have handled the fact that she had been on a reality tv show if she hadn't been the most hated of the group.

I laughed through his whole story. It was very entertaining. Needless to say he called her and said he was a little bit more private than that and declined to see her further.

We continued our date to try to find some live music. I don't know about your area but around here that usually includes a smoky bar. You know, where they serve alcohol. Okay, whatever. I have a designated driver. Yay me.

We ended at a bar where music was suppose to play soon but it was during the NFL playoffs and Mr. No Drink was also Mr. No Sports. He didn't follow them. What? Really?

While I'm not interested in dating someone that has their life ruled by every football game possible, I think I want him to at least follow one team. I like football.

The music never started and the couple that sat down next to us started smoking and this sent Mr. I Can't Smell Like Smoke into a tissy.

He tried to push through and we wandered up the street to a few places but we couldn't find any music and he could only smell himself smell like smoke. Date over. He couldn't take it anymore.

We communicated a bit through text and email the next day and he said he wanted to see me again and I told him my schedule but he never suggested anything so we didn't do anything. And any possibility floated off into space.

Am I weird to want the man to plan to see me in the beginning? Is that so bad?

Mr. No resurfaced 4 months later. Email. Text. Invitation to get together on Friday. He will call this week to confirm plans. And then. I never hear from him.

Until 4:00pm on Friday.

Hello? Really?

Sorry, Mr. No but when I didn't hear from you by Friday morning I made other plans.

And, my aunt and I had a lovely dinner together.

Evan vs. God- Who are you going to believe?

Have you ever met someone that you were so attracted to that you couldn't talk at all?

Well, I wasn't that ga-ga over Crazy, Sexy Jim but I was damn close.

He was tall, dark and handsome. Really tall. Broad shoulders and a warm smile. Cute, cute smile.

We met at a restaurant and had dinner and drinks. It was just before Christmas and the town was decorated for the holidays. We strolled down the street together chatting on our way to another bar where a band was playing.

We talked and laughed a lot. And later in the date we kissed a lot. And then kissed some more.

I told him about word vomiting all over Mr. Sutherland and asked him to just tell me to be quiet if I got going on a roll. He told me about the time a girl got really drunk and threw up in her car that he had to drive her home in. I promised him I would not throw up on him.

I would get up to go to the bathroom and when I would come back out he would be standing up looking toward me with that big, wide smile. Talk about making a girls legs melt into butter. I was a walking heart attack.

Sounds perfect, right? Second date material, right?

There were texts that followed the first date but they all went to the sexy, teasing side and any invitation for getting together was for me to come over to his house after his kids had gone to bed. At my age, being a booty call, even if the booty call is at 4pm just isn't going to happen. He may have had more luck if he had started with a date and not a text.

I have a conversation with my dating coach, Evan, except I'm not paying Evan so I have to make up his side of the conversation.

Me: Evan, is he interested in me or just having sex with me?
E: Sounds like he's just interested in having sex with you?
Me: But Evan, we had such great chemistry.
E: So. Where has that gotten you? Has he asked you out on a real second date?
Me: No.
E: So, why don't you believe me. He is showing you who he is.
Me: You're so stupid, Evan. You wouldn't even have met your wife online you hypocrite.

(I can say that about Evan because he says it himself.)

So, after a couple of weeks of doing this periodic text dance I found myself at church. And I do not go to church. Can't remember the last time I had been in there so I was a little worried about lightening. But it was a new year so I tried it. Luckily no one was hurt.

I sat there praying to God. Something else foreign to me. Asking him for peace. And as the service went on I asked God for a favor. I asked, "God, I'm going to text him to see if he has his kids tonight and if he doesn't, see if he would like to get together for coffee or a drink. If he doesn't have his kids and he says no then I have my answer as to what this is really about."

He didn't have his kids and he couldn't get together. And I never heard from him again.

And in the words of the dating coach that I'm not paying to be my dating coach, "So what! He's not the one for you."

Amen.

Your Date is Now Departing at Gate 32

Gate32Gary- a tall guy, salt & pepper hair, pretty blue eyes and a big teddy bear of a guy. Not fat but maybe a little chubby. He was just a big guy. He works for an airline company and his office was Gate 32 at the local airport.

Gate32 was kind of a mystery at first.

We met for drinks and dinner at a sports bar before I had a scheduled meeting with friends. He was nice. I enjoyed his company. We had a couple of beers and ate dinner and then he walked me to my car.

So, I get in my car and he's standing at the door and he says hey. I look up and he leans down into the car for a kiss. As I'm extending up and air bubble breeches my esophagus and I burp! A beer burp! Right in his face! Right in his freaking mouth.

And men wonder why I'm single!

I started cracking up and he says would stop and kiss me. I tried to stop but pretty much giggled through the kiss.

We agreed that we would see each other again where I reiterated that he had my phone number and we said goodnight.

And then.

He disappeared.

Reason #2 Online Dating is So Frustrating

I received this email today from HarvardBoy.

Hey,
I'm a media executive, just finished grad school at Stanford, did my undergrad at Harvard, and originally from southern Europe. I've got to say, you seem like an incredibly interesting and exciting person, at least according to your profile - not to mention one of the most beautiful girls I've seen in a long, long time.

I'd love to take you out sometime, and be bad with you :-)
Best,

M.

Oh yes. I have ask the Universe and prayed to God to send me my Soulmate- A 25 year old that just finished college that wants to be bad with me.

I'm starting to adopt Mr. Unbelieveable's favorite word as my own- REALLY!!

Does Being Persistent Make Me Look Gay

A long time ago- way back in October of 2009- I went on a date with TxBuckeye. We went to Top Golf and hit balls while getting to know each other.

TxBuckeye would have been 48 then. About 5' 9", glasses, bald, slender. Not bad looking.

I firmly believe that on most occasions, I'm not going to know someone with just one meeting. One date. Looking back on all of my serious relationships- they were friendships that grew into romance.

Kind of hard to do with online dating.

So, when TxBuckeye asked me out for dinner again- last minute I might add- I went.

He wanted me to meet him at his house because he was having a business meeting with an artist that he was acting as a Business Manager for.

I remember this date so specifically because I didn't want to wear my work clothes but I didn't have time to drive home either. So, I stopped at a TJ Maxx and purchased a new sweater and a new pair of jeans- which are one of my favorite pairs now.

And, then I went to his house. Don't lecture me! I went to his house.

His house was decorated to the T. The artist helped him decorate it. He had some pretty incredible art, too. Think Architectural Digest here! But the only thing I could think of was, "Oh my God, you are never coming to my un-styled, undecorated home. No way, Jose!"

That's not why I didn't want to continue seeing him though. The thing is he kept saying stuff like:

I asked my artist friend to decorate my house- but you know, for a straight guy.
Do you like this piece of artwork? Does it look like it belongs in a gay mans house?
I'm totally straight.

I got to the point where I thought to myself, "Who are you trying to convince? Me? Or you?"

I won't bore you with the details of our date because it was a pretty boring date. At the end of the night he kissed me. And ew! It was like kissing... I don't know what it was like kissing... worse than kissing my brother! That's the only cliche I can come up with. I couldn't get out of there fast enough!!

So, why am I bringing up TxBuckeye 2 years later?

Periodically I change my user name on Match and it must unblock him (or maybe he changes his- not sure) and I get an email from him.  Like today.

How are you doing?


No one has swept you off your feet yet???

Hows the golf game? I've been trying to play more. We should play sometime?( Friends, I know you have no interest ) lol.

Going to Mavs game tonight.

How many times must I reject/ignore this poor guy? Why? Why does he keep contacting me? If you know I have no interest and I have ignored and blocked you time and again, WHY?

No, being persistent does not make you look gay. It makes you look.... you fill in the blank.

Reason #1 Online Dating is So Frustrating

Friday, June 3, 2011. I followed Evan's (Mr. Dating Coach) advice about contacting men. Try to be funny. It's just as oogey to men when women say, "You're really cute. Wanna chat." Saying that you like their profile is redundant because if you didn't like their profile you wouldn't be emailing them.

I'm trying, Evan. Damn it, I trying.

Here is my exact email: His profile is in blue and my response is in red.

Headline: My new favorite word is "REALLY!!"

If you're usually late to everything, you're not for me. I hate being late and hate when it happens but when it does try to take it in stride. It never fails that traffic is backed up when I'm trying to get home to get somewhere fun.
If alcohol is a normal part of your life style, you're not for me. I'd be as big as a house if it was. I like to have a drink but I'm too old to be drunk. It hurts too much the next day.

If you wouldn't date a guy who lives in a trailer, you're not for me. (I don't, but I would live in a trailer) Do I have to live in trailer? I could see where it would be okay next to a beach and no kids lived in it with me. Maybe not in hurricane season.

If you don't have a job or can't get one, you're not for me. All set here. I'm very dependable at my job. Even on snow days and 20 mile commute.
If you take more than 40min. to get ready for anything, you're not for me. 25 minutes if I don't have to shower. Closer to 40 if I do but I'm pretty quick for a girl.

If you don't like kids, you're not for me. I have two monsters of my own. I love watching them develop their relationship. It's very sweet.

If you don't like sports, you're not for me. Professional Football is my favorite but my boys play soccer which is good, too. I'm a nail biter when watching. I also love hockey but hate when the refs don't let them fight.

If you don't like the lake, you're not for me. As long as the weather is warm! Any water source is good in my book.

If you used to smoke and quit, you're probably not for me (I don't want to worry about you starting again) I tried to be a smoker when I was 15. Didn't have what it takes.

If you think you're always right, you're not for me. I've gotten very good at saying, "I was wrong!"

If you refuse to eat at fast food resturants, you're not for me. Chicfila? Taco Bell? Schlotzky's? But I think I've become a burger snob! (ps. that's his typo not mine in resturants.)

If my house is cleaner than your house, you're not for me. How clean is your house? I don't live in a hoarders house or anything but there are days I feel like I can't keep up! Maids! That's the answer.

If you can't be spontaneous, you're not for me. I'm a horrible planner. I get it from my mother.

BUT--
If you're gorgeous and kind, send me a message. I can claim kind with confidence. And kind of goofy once you get to know me. And while I don't think I'm chopped liver in the looks department, gorgeous is subjective to the viewer.

If grilling in the backyard on a summer afternoon sounds good to you, send me a message. It's my favorite place. What are you grilling?

If you can handle company coming over last minute, send me a message. As in you being company or friends coming over for company? This is a trick question, I think. I wish more friends would just drop by like in the good old days.

If you don't like fighting, send me a message. I'm horrible at confict. I hate debate. There just isn't that much worth fighting about- REALLY!
If you understand that I will forget some significant dates and won't hold it against me, send me a message. They have these new fangled phones where you can program dates in and the phone will remind you!

***********
Baggage and drama are not my favorite items to deal with, but at this age and stage in life, not many of us are going to be baggage and drama free. I prefer to deal with it on an "as needed" basis and try not to let it control my life. I try to limit my baggage to an overnight bag and not the steamer trunk.

I am not into instant commitments, but I don't mind getting together and see where it goes. I have realized that I will never know someone over one date and they will not know me either. If friendships can be built, the rest will follow or not. :)

Now- after responding to all of that I can't help wonder if a positive spin would be better:

If you're on time, you're for me. If you're spontaneous, you're for me.... what do you think?

Happy Friday, Mr Unbelievable.

Unbelievable is in his profile name.

Are you bored yet? Do you want to read his response?

Well, here it is:

Thanks for the email and response. Your a pretty good sport and it was thoughtful of you to answer every question. Thank you.
I cancelled my membership, but it was paid up for a few months so I decided to change my profile story to a more flip-ed style for the heck of it. I wanted to see what would happen and I really didn't care if anyone liked it or not and I really didn't expect any positive responses. I have been surprised at how many people respond to it.

Anyway, your a good distance away but thanks again for checking in with me.

Good luck to you

Evan? Evan? Evan!! I know, Evan. Evan says, "So what! He's not the one for you." Well, I know that's what Evan would say if I had $3,000 for him to be my dating coach which I don't so I have to just make Evan up myself.

Here's a clue men. If you are not really looking but you paid for your membership they have this wonderful button called HIDE YOUR FRENCHING PROFILE and then sweet, funny girls like me won't waste their time emailing you!

Sigh.

I wanted to email Mr. Unbelievable back and yell him but I chose this response instead:
wha, wha, wha! :) I can't help but wonder if your new favorite word is because women email it back to you. Ha.

Thanks for the email back. This makes great content for my dating blog!

Good luck to you, too.

And that, my friends, is Reason #1 why online dating is frustrating.