Day 2: NaBloPoMo

The Computer Geek is officially out of my life. Whew!

Now give me an amen!

Prior to my leaving on holiday, I knew I was done with him as he emanated the gigantic red flashing psycho light. I did not say anything before I left because I was afraid of any repercussions during my extended absence. Since coming home, he really hasn't been on my radar until Friday when he finally sent me an email.

During my at-home mucus party, I thought about how to end things peacefully without turning him stalker in between my marathon naps. (Read: little effort). My lack of care ended in The Computer Geek deleting the welcome home note he posted on FB as well as removing me from his friend list.

It was too easy. Needless to say I am happy as the dating karma gods will not punish me for being too honest.

Day 1: NaBloPoMo

Yikes!

The first day of November is upon us.

How am I spending it?

Sick. On the couch. Sleeping too much.

Did I go to the fun Halloween party?

No. I slept. Coughed. Sneezed.

Being sick sucks. But I have to be well and ready for fun next weekend.

dreams versus reality

I'm back!

My glorious dream-of-all-dreams holiday is over. It was better than anticipated. As my 35th birthday rapidly approaches, I feel I did an excellent job of marking it with a special memory.

observations from the universe

I received this earlier this week from The Universe:

Ever wondered why so many people, sometimes virtual strangers, tell you their deepest secrets, Patsy?

It's because when they look into your eyes, they see me.

And sharing their secrets with me, as you, reminds them that no matter what they have to say, my love is so much bigger.

We're quite the team -
The Universe

I was just remarking about this the other day because I do have a big invisible sign across my forehead saying, "Tell me everything. I will listen." People spill their guts without a thought. Clearly, I missed my calling; I should have been a shrink. At least then I would get paid to listen.

Yes, I am grumpy today.

paying

I have been on a Tyler Perry movie kick. I love watching someone else's roller coaster life get wrapped up pretty with a bow with happiness overflowing in the span of two hours. I really like his stories and perspective - it is very call-it-like-it-is, stating the obvious, but sometimes it is simply good to hear it.

Last night's selection was Diary of a Mad Black Woman. It started me thinking about my attitude towards men because in many respects the movie could have easily been the Diary of a Mad Puerto Rican-Italian Princesa Named Patsy. The line that truly struck a chord was the romantic male lead telling the divorcee lead, "Don't make me pay for his mistakes." The 'his' being referred to is the divorcee's ex-husband.

"Don't make me pay for his mistakes."

I do that. The realization slapped me across the face last night as I watched the film. What I have termed 'cautious', not repeating the same pattern went from simply being knowledgeable to the harder, misguided making him, any him, pay for the past transgressions of the tainted men from my past.

Fear.

Trust.

Two simple words.

Two powerful forces.

However, these words play a significant role in making him pay. The cynic in me grows feeding on the fear and inability to trust. Fear of being made a fool again; fear of trusting that someone is who he says; fear of being vulnerable; fear of hurt.

Especially in the Internet sphere, trust is a difficult thing for me. Men use old photos, misrepresent height, weight, professions. Of course, women do that too, but I like to think people should be fairly honest when trying to meet someone. In my profile, I used recent photos and was honest with the likes/dislikes tick boxes. My other fear/trust issue with on-line dating is the 'always looking for something better' philosophy but I remind myself that is present int he real-world dating scheme too.

As a result of this grand realization compliments of Mr. Perry, I have been making an effort to be in the now with The Computer Geek; to cease the cynical voice in my head that automatically plays the punisher soundtrack. The Computer Geek is not his predecessors; he may turn in an arse, but it will be on his own and not because I have made him into those who came before him.

holiday weekend catch up

Ah! Labor Day.

What a fabulous day to be sipping down gin, leading the fabulous life of a lady of leisure!

I must motivate to head northward to a small party. But I must admit the comfy couch, silly hound dog and gin are very tempting to keep me indoors like a hermit.

It has been a busy week leading up to today though:

• A much avoided dinner with my friend, the Professor. For the very first time, our time together was not all about her. Somehow my office hell came to the forefront, and The Prof actually admitting never asking and she was amazed at the pressure I am under and how I get it all done on top of being surrounded by dirty old men.
• Dinner with a co-worker, where the words "I love you" were said at the end of the evening. Were the words uttered in a fatherly manner or was it something else? Much like how many licks it takes to get to the center for tootsie roll pop, the world may never know.
• Take two with The Computer Geek. In which, I was overly guarded and I really don't think much fun. Thursday was an ugly day of a particularly ugly week. I found out my remaining elderly traveling companion, The Queen, has been ill with biopsy results pending. Thursday night was not one of my finest moments but I thought I had him fooled. However, at the end of the evening, The Computer Geek told me, "I'll leave it up to you if you want to see me again." Clearly, my evening's grand performance was lacking conviction.
• Friday afternoon I received an e-mail from The Computer Geek.
• Friday night was a quiet, much needed cocooning. Me and Lulu.
• Season opener football game. I met The Computer Geek at a sports bar where we took in the game. I did have fun. I have realized that he doesn't get out a whole bunch, not in the ways that I do where I know the city like my closet. After the game, we headed down the road for a change of venue. I had a cocktail, he had a few. But we did laugh. I enjoyed myself. Of course, after my ceasing to worry and his few too many cocktails, our goodbye ended with a few pecks. He would have been more forward, but I put a halt to it. The Computer Geek did tell me that he was very glad we found each other. I have decided to not put much stock into that comment, but merely enjoy it for what it is.
• Finished off the proper weekend with a wine party. Got home later than planned but we were laughing and having fun. Discovered The Computer Geek sent me a text message somewhere throughout the evening. Bonus that I did not awake with a hangover.
• Earlier today, late morning, I was told The Queen has inoperable brain cancer. 12 months to live. Same brain cancer as Ted Kennedy. My heart is broken. Cue the afternoon's gin.

Which leads us to this very moment. Gin is dry. I need a bit of makeup. Then on out the door to see a few folks, laugh a bit, and remember why I love this place so very much. This life is short.

past. present.

Fb is a splendid thing (sarcasm runs deep!) - it has it's ups and it's downs. When some people find you from the distant cobwebs of space and time, it is delightful, others you wish would just stay repressed in the dark recesses of yesterday. Clearly, I have a love-hate relationship with fb.

Random co-workers have found me there - bad. very bad. Then yesterday an acquaintance from my undergrad days emerged onto the radar screen. I was delighted to hear from her. However, she mentioned Spoofy. A name I'd long forgotten; as in my undergrad boyfriend-like character.

Then I start to wonder because my inquisitive mind is always on overdrive and before I know it, google once again has the keys to the kingdom of information. I really should have been a detective. There was a bit of information out there, including a small profile photo of him.

Seeing his photo threw me for a loop. It was about this time of year, 13 years ago that we went our separate ways. Spoofy looked exactly as I remembered him. Much to my surprise, my thinking went directly to how different my life would be if we'd have stayed together. all these years later. I vividly remember laying on the carpeting of the rental house looking through the book of grad schools, dreaming of the future. It was Christmastime and Spoof has just given me my prezzie, Victoria Secret bath stuff. The possibilities were endless, laying directly in front of me contained in the pages of his book.

I was amazed that here, today, I felt that twinge when thinking of him, seeing him. Maybe I'll never forget my first love. At least through all the ups and downs, I remember the good parts of my days with The Spoof (which is something I don't have from The Leech or Montana Man). I still have the antique lab stools he got me. I remember when he called me with a surprise, that would later be revealed as the first of four stools. We had so much fun.

The gravity defying daiquiris. Vinyl clothing. Late night french fries. Amazing pashes. My 21st birthday. Physics class. All these memories flooding my present. A time when life was carefree. I hadn't been hurt and disappointed yet. My heart was open.

Maybe that's why these memories are so overwhelming.

diving head first

Thursday evening I met my first ATX on-line dating man.

I did require not one, but two pep talks in order to make it to the bar. I tried like hell to grab a drink somewhere else, anywhere else before to calm me because I hate this part. Of course, Blondie and Pat Benetar were having a show downtown, which led to parking being an absolute nightmare and I never did get my pre-meeting chillout cocktail.

I arrived earlier than our appointed hour and proceeded to have a glass of champagne. I was wearing my black and white Calvin Klein modern take on the classic June Cleaver dress. My feet were tired from a week filled with stilettos, but I had chosen moderate heels that morning after much debate and inner turmoil. Little did I know, I really should have placed the kitten heels on my feet that morning. (foreshadowing! foreshadowing!)

So The Computer Geek came up to me at the bar. I was delighted that he did indeed resemble his photos. It was a bit of a rocky start as I hate that whole talking-to-a-person-you-barely-know thing and all the while I am being suspect since people aren't always truthful. The Computer Geek and I shared a bottle of wine and at some point the conversation flowed and before I knew it, time flew and it was late. I ran to the loo. I wasn't tipsy, simply tired and beginning to dread being up at dawn the next morning. Finished the bit of wine that was lingering in my glass. The Computer Geek picked up the check. He was digging me. We got up off the high bar chairs, then somehow I did not put my weight correctly on my right foot and before I know it, I am going down.

Down, down, down as in falling to the floor. I wanted to die. The Computer Geek was super nice and collected me up off the floor including my purse. I had to catch my breath. The bartender informed me that I executed my free-fall very gracefully. Meanwhile, I wanted to die. I thought I could walk on it but a few steps out of the bar door and I had to sit down on a bench. The Computer Geek was very nice, even rubbed my little ankle.

When I felt brave enough, I decided it was time to get this show back on the road. Stood up testing my stability. Then this is where the evening turned. The Computer Geek asked if he could kiss me. I said yes, thinking a small peck since I was injured, right. No, it turned into full-on makeout. Not terribly thrilled with that. Then as we continued walking toward our vehicles, he made a comment that I was a good kisser and he was sure I was good in bed too. That was when the antenna came up. When we went off in our separate ways, he offered to take me to my car but I declined. He also said he wanted to see me again.

Everything was good until that last part where the 'good in bed' comment came hurling out into the night air. Is it worth establishing boundaries? Or let this encounter die a quick and painless death? Of course, Montana Man was curious and when I told him about the comment, he stated the guy was tipsy (as he did have a vodka martini after the wine) and his filter wasn't fully operational, that I should cut him some slack and no kissing next time. I don't know if it is worth it or not. What do you think?

follies of a hypocrite

Oh my!

Oh My!

This whole Internet dating thing is so terribly depressing.

Terribly. Terribly.

Thinking life on my own with the B.O.B. may be my only option.

Paralyzed men!

a hypocrite lives here

Yes, this week, I crossed the threshold into the land of the hypocrite.

After swearing off online dating compliments of the debacle otherwise known as Montana Man, I broke down and gave in on Tuesday. Of course, this time I am armed with my highly critical ideals (the list) and knowledge of the traps such as old photographs. Hence, I am very suspect of any and all potential gentleman callers.

Three days into this fun little experiment, I am already disheartened as the frogs have multiplied exponentially. However, I promised to give this experiment one month. Seeing as I have not been on a real date since January 2008, I will remain true to my word.

Due my position as hypocrite, only you, my little adventurers, will know of this experiment. Do fasten your seatbelts for this one!