Where are all the normal men?

Question-Mark

I am now completely convinced that there are only 2 “normal” men left in this world…and they are dating each other.

I woke up yesterday morning to a text from “Jim” (see Let’s NOT talk about sex…) apologizing for his actions the previous night.  It was 6AM.  He’s sorry.  He was allegedly at a party and had been drinking.

WHAT A SHOCK! — not.

You mean alcohol fueled his raunchy dialogue?  Go figure.

He says he’s sorry for being an asshat and he’s not that kind of guy.  He feels terrible about the whole ordeal.  I somehow find this hard to believe.

If it wasn’t 6AM and my brain was actually awake and functioning, I would have probably told him to go f*ck himself.  I somehow find enough energy and brain power to come up with this:

“What happened?!  You were so sweet yesterday afternoon.  I thought we had a shot at really hitting it off, but at some point last night, a switch was flipped and I felt like I was talking to a horny teenager.”

He’s apologizing again.  He says that is not who he is and he still wants to take me out.  He promises to treat me right.  He compliments me and tells me I’m amazing.  Am I this much of a sucker?  Am I so ridiculously desperate that I am ACTUALLY considering this?  I wish the answer to those two questions was “no.”

*sigh*

My dating life could really be made into a sitcom at this point.

The kicker to this ENTIRE story is that he has a Master’s degree in Mental Health Counseling.  I kid you not.  Why are the ones who make a living helping others are the ones that seem the most unstable?  Am I the only one that his noticed this trend?

Maybe after I agree to this date, he can counsel me on my obviously jilted mental state.  Yes, I said yes to a date.  Why?  I’m honestly not sure.  Blog research?  Before the uncomfortable sexting incident, we had agreed to meet for drinks Monday.  I told him I would still meet him but was very apprehensive.

I arrive at our agreed upon location.  I had come directly from work so I was rushing to quickly change and meet him there.  He had texted me almost an hour before I arrived saying he was on his way.  When I responded and asked him why he was leaving so early, he replied “because I’m bored.”

Well…I’m sorry that not working a normal 9 to 5 job is inconvenient for you.

I text him after I park my car asking where to meet him.  I wait.  No response.  I walk inside and attempt to find this man I have only ever seen photos of online.

I’m dressed to the nines.  Lucky Brand skinny jeans, printed brown and black halter top, brown wedges.  My TV makeup is still on and my hair looks extra “newsy.”

I walk up to the hostess stand and she politely asks, “how many?”  I reply that I’m meeting someone here but I’m not sure where he is so she very sweetly offers to walk me around to see if we can find him.  God bless this young woman.  I can tell that she knows I’m meeting someone for the first time and I needed someone like her in that moment.  Solidarity, sister!  After only 30 seconds, I spot him at the bar.

Of course he’s at the bar.  The LEAST intimate setting out of any place in a restaurant.  This, AFTER I had asked him if we could sit outside because it was such a beautiful evening, mind you.

I introduce myself and he says hello.  This next part is not meant to sound cruel in any way at all, but throughout the duration of our time together, I honestly could not tell if he was drunk when I arrived or if his elevator maybe wasn’t reaching the top floor…

Where do I find these people?  How is it possible that there are THIS MANY strange men in a relatively small area?

It was awful.  I carried the conversation.  He kept asking the same questions over and over again.  He did not like talking about himself and changed the subject back to me.  I had just about enough of carrying the conversation, so I decided to address the elephant in the room.

“I have to ask you about last night.  What happened?  Seriously?  Just wondering what made you think that was okay?”

He puts his hands to his face.  “I’m so sorry!  I was such an idiot.  I thought that was what you wanted.”

“What I wanted?!  I tried to change the subject every time you brought it up because you kept pushing the issue.  No one wants that.  And what I tried to make you understand is that there are some things I absolutely will not talk about over text messaging with someone I don’t know.  It takes less than a second to take a screenshot and someone could potentially damage a reputation that I’ve worked so hard to build.  That’s not okay.”

He keeps apologizing.  I’m over this date.  So.  Over.  It.  I was honestly over it before it even began.  I’m not even sure why I went in the first place.  I gave this guy the benefit of the doubt…something I definitely should not have done in the first place.

He walks me out.  I am polite and thank him for the beers.  THANK GOD for Yuengling.

He texts me later that night.  He had fun.  Wait….what?!  DO WE EVEN LIVE ON THE SAME PLANE OF EXISTENCE?!

I don’t respond.  He’s one number I’m definitely going to be happy to lose…

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Let’s NOT talk about sex…

I seriously CANNOT make this stuff up.  I am rolling my eyes and honestly questioning my life choices with this whole online dating thing.  Do you have your popcorn ready?  Here’s the latest:

Newest Tinder match – a man named “Jim.”  “Jim” is attractive in his photos and we chat via Tinder message for a couple of days before exchanging numbers.  He’s cute.  He’s very athletic and tells me he coaches cross country for a local area college.  The conversation starts off slow, which is how I prefer it.

I am OVERLY cautious about everything I do online.  That’s why this blog is anonymous and why I’ve changed the names of all those involved in my dating disasters.  I’m here to tell stories and have you all question my sanity while protecting my reputation and avoiding damage to others.

“Jim” and I text back and forth all weekend.  He’s sweet.  We talk about likes and dislikes and get into a little bit about each other’s past.  The generic questions: Where did you grow up?  Where did you go to school?  Interests outside of work?  On Sunday evening, he asks me to dinner or out for drinks on Monday.  He sounds great and I think we may hit it off.  He’s funny and complimenting me and seems genuinely interested in my life and what I do for a living.  I’m equally interested in his, too.

The conversation goes from this:

“Are you really this adorable or am I crazy?  You seem to sweet.”

To this:

Well bend over.  Take my dick please.”

I just have one question….ummmmmmmm WHAT?!

Somewhere during the duration of our text convo he says “I like to have fun.”  My response was “Me, too!  Who doesn’t?”  Little did I know that those 4 words would open up the metaphorical floodgates of dirty talk and awkward sexting.  On his end.  Not mine.

I have NEVER met this man.  We have been talking for 2 DAYS.  I know nothing about him besides what he has chosen to tell me and the little bit of info I was able to find by creeping on the Internet (I work in news.  We’re all naturally curious.  Don’t judge me).

Can we, oh I don’t know, NOT talk about sex after not even ever meeting in person?  Hell, I’d like to see if we are even compatible before we even put that out there on the table.  Don’t get me wrong, I believe intimacy is a huge part of any relationship, but I met this guy on Tinder.  TINDER!  We have yet to meet face-to-face and he’s telling me to bend over and take it?  Mind you, all of this after he tells me he’s looking for a classy girl…yeah, okay.

Why the complete 180 degree turn?  I’m not 100% innocent in this whole ordeal but I DO NOT have conversations like this with people I don’t know.  I’m hesitant to even have them with people I do actually know.  I was flirting with him.  I was being cute and coy and evasive.

He didn’t just straddle the line of harmless flirting/creeper status…he launched himself over it like he was being shot from a cannon.

Honestly, I was disturbed.  I still am as I sit here and write this blog entry.  I’m a public figure.  I have certain standards and rules.  There are thing I will absolutely not talk about over text messages.  Especially with someone I have never met.  He seemed understanding about that…at first.  What happened?

Part of me is hoping that I get a message from him in the morning saying “I’m so mortified!  My asshole friends took my phone.”  But at this point, that’s nothing but wishful thinking.

Did I get played?  Catfished?  Was he doing it for a laugh?  Why go through all of the effort of getting to know me before flipping the switch?  He works at a local college.  He should be held to a higher standard.

I refuse to be just a piece of ass to someone.  I thought I made that clear from the beginning.  He told me he was looking forward to meeting me Monday and was determined to make me his girlfriend.  He said I would fall for him and that was his goal.  Was he honestly just telling me what I wanted to hear?

Can any of the men reading this blog chime in with some insight here?  W-T-F did I just go through?

He seemed so normal at first.  I guess they all do.  And I now officially hate Tinder.  It has caused me nothing but headaches and mildly entertaining blog entries.

Are there any NORMAL guys left out there?  Or have they been replaced by sex-crazed assholes?

There is not enough wine in the world….

From red hot to ice cold

Where do I even begin?  I had high hopes with “Mike.”  Things seemed to be going so well.  He invited me to his friend’s engagement party, I met all of his friends, he came over and cooked me dinner.  I was starting to honestly feel like this could turn into something serious.  Could I actually have found my perfect match on Tinder of all places?

The answer: A big, fat NOPE.

Ready for quite the story?  I hope so.

“Mike” and I had tentative plans to get together on a Thursday night.  He is starting a brand new job on Monday and has to get a lot of things in order the week beforehand, so our conversations are short and we aren’t texting as much.  I am a very understanding person.  Working in local television, I probably understand the stress of a new job better than anyone else.  You want to start of strong right out of the gate and make a good first impression.  You can always be replaced by someone younger or better looking for less money, so the thought is always in the back of your mind that I need to go above and beyond what is required of me to make sure I’m getting noticed and I’m making people watch.  I get it.  I’ve had 3 different jobs in television in 3 different states.  I’ve uprooted my life several times.  Its stressful.

After not hearing from him all day Thursday, I text him and ask what he’s thinking for that night.  Keep in mind, we are, at this point, about 3 weeks into our little dating adventure.  His responses are short.  He doesn’t seem like he’s putting forth an effort so I send him this:

“Listen, I know how hard it is to start a new job and I know how much you are worrying about Monday so if you can’t get together or don’t want tonight, we can reschedule.”

I’m officially too nice of a person.  I’m genuine.  To a point where I sometimes think its a fault.  I give people the benefit of the doubt too much, especially in situations surrounding my romantic life.  Eventually, I’ll find someone who can appreciate that.

Anyway, “Mike” sends me back this long diatribe about how he is struggling to compartmentalize his life and he is afraid of being distracted from his new job because he could see something serious developing between the two of us.

Okay, so we’re on the same page.  He’s also thinking that this could turn into something.  We chat on the phone for a bit because having those conversations over text NEVER goes well.  I wanted to know what he was thinking and gauge his feelings.  He claimed he was an honest person and said he prides himself on honesty because he would rather be open and up-front and maybe hurt someone’s feelings early on than lead a woman on and end up hurting her down the road.  I respect that.  A lot, actually.

He asks if we can slow things down.  There it was.  The other shoe.  Through this entire dating process, I had it in the back of my mind that he was too good to be true.  SOMETHING was wrong with him.  There had to be.  No one gets wrapped up in a whirlwind romance that quickly, right?  I tried not to search for the faults and focus on the good that was in front of me.  But my intuition was right.  I waited for the other shoe to drop, so I really shouldn’t have been surprised when it finally did.

Slow things down.

I still feel like there is something between us, so I oblige.  He asks if we can meet up for breakfast in the morning so he can see me.  He’s saying all of the right things.  So…I say “yes.”

We meet for breakfast at a restaurant near downtown.  He kisses my cheek to greet me and we eat a fantastic meal with great conversation again.  He is resting his hand on my thigh, telling me I’m beautiful and once again, saying everything I wanted to hear.  This was going to work.  We continued to spend some time together after breakfast.  I’m sparing the details because I am, after all, a lady.  But it was great.  We parted ways and continued to text a little bit that afternoon but I got tied up at work and had to come home, go straight to bed, and get back to work by 4AM so it was a rough night for me.

Saturday was radio silence.  I didn’t push it because I knew he had to read some books for work and finish up some paperwork to prepare for his first day of his new job.  I let it go.  Which was hard because we had talked EVERY DAY up until that point.

Sunday rolls around.  Nothing.  Sunday night, I shoot him a quick text that says:

“Just wanted to wish you luck on your first day tomorrow!  I hope your new job is everything you were hoping for and more.  Can’t wait to hear how awesome your first day goes!”

Short.  Sweet.  To the point.  I went out of my way to wish him luck.  Still…nothing.

Monday afternoon, I’m sitting at work discussing the sequence of events with a co-worker.  He thinks I should get rid of “Mike.”  He makes a valid point that it takes 30 seconds to respond to a text message.  Even when you are busy.  And who doesn’t take their phone with them everywhere these days?  I go home after work and think…I’ll give him until tomorrow.  Maybe.

Tuesday morning, we’re still in radio blackout.  I had deleted Tinder off my phone after a conversation that “Mike” and I had about how by the 3rd or 4th date, we’re in it to see how things progress so what’s the point of Tinder still being there?  It has now been 4 days since the last time we talked.

I grab Tinder off my cloud.  Out of pure curiosity, I click on his profile because we are still matched and I see:

Active: 21 minutes ago.

Wow.  So you have time to dick around on Tinder but can’t spare a few seconds out of your day to thank me for wishing you luck on your first day of your new job?!

What.  An.  Ass.

I was done.  I sent him one last message that read:

“Hey.  I haven’t heard from you in a few days.  I hope everything is okay.  When we talked last week, I didn’t think that ‘slowing things down’ meant you cutting me off completely.  I deserve more than that and I’m too good for it.”

Still nothing.  No response.  So that was it.  I clearly made the right call.  He got what he wanted from me and shut it down to most likely move on to the next.

I fell for it.  Hook, line and sinker.  I was a little hurt but realized that I deserve better.  I’m a catch.  I know I am.  I just need to find someone who appreciates that.  He has to be out there somewhere, right?

Back to the interwebs for more online dating adventures.  (Insert eye roll)

Here we go again…

2nd date & already meeting the friends

I’m awake at 10AM following my late-night text fest with “Mike”.  That’s LATE for me.  We start texting again and I ask him how he is doing since he had to wake up early that morning.  He’s so flirtatious and fun in his text messages.  He tells me that people at work have been asking him all morning why he was so happy.  Someone allegedly even said “okay…who is the girl?”

Just the idea of that makes me smile.  He’s already telling people about me.  I knew we hit it off and I really don’t want this feeling to end…ever.  The butterflies, the tingles, the excitement.  I had it all.

Anyway, I get out of bed, eat a quick breakfast, toss my hair in a ponytail, throw on some clothes and venture out shopping.  I have a few other errands to run in addition to buying the perfect outfit for tonight.  He tells me a few details about the plan for later.  He asks me to come over around 7PM.  He and his friends are grilling out by the pool.  The pool isn’t open yet but the hot tub is open year-round.  Hot tub.  That means new bathing suit.  Target.

GOD BLESS TARGET!  My obsession with that store is by no means healthy.  If I could live in it, I would.  I know that store will have absolutely everything I need.

First item on the agenda: new bikini.  If you’ve ever wandered into the swimwear section at Target, you know its seriously a giant clusterfuck.  It takes the right mental state as a woman to shop for bathing suits in general, but to do so at Target, it takes  a whole new level of preparation.  Nothing is in order.  Nothing is matched.  Tops are here, bottoms are there.  Mix-and-match they say.  That’s the new trend they say.  Well SCREW YOU, trend decider.  I want the same color top and bottom and I don’t feel like searching through endless racks of crap to find the two pieces that correctly correlate.  Men have it so easy.  Swim trunks.  Must be nice.

I rummage through the racks and find a hot pink push-up top and matching bottoms.  I try them on and miraculously, they fit.  The one benefit to being forced to buy separates is that I wear an XL top and M bottoms so I suppose the whole mix-and-match deal actually comes in handy in my case.  My apologies, Target overlords.

The next question is what to pair it with.  I find a pair of khaki shorts that are just short enough and a pair of white and khaki colored flip-flops but I struggle finding a shirt.  I could probably just wear a shirt I already have at home if need be, but where is the fun in that?

Anyway, I check out at Target.  I spend way too much money on second date attire, but whatever.  I swing by Old Navy on my way home, hoping to find a diamond in the ruff in the middle of their stock of shittily made attire.  By some miracle, I do.  A white, linen tunic shirt that is JUST sheer enough that my hot pink bikini top will be partially visible through it.  SOLD.

I go home, shower and go through the whole process of making myself up again.  I text a picture to a guy friend to get his honest assessment.  He approves.  Nice!  I pull up “Mike”‘s address on my phone and drive over to his place.

When I arrive, there are 6 people sitting in chairs beside the grill.  I wasn’t expecting there to be that many people, but I roll with it.  “Mike” notices me walking toward the pool and meets me by the gate.  He introduces me to his friends and hands me a beer and I sit and chat.

I feel like you can tell a lot about a man by who his friends are and how they act.  He has been friends with one of these guys since high school, another since college and two others for a few years.  There are some significant others there, too, so I’m not the only female around which makes me slightly more comfortable.

“Mike” has to get something inside and asks me if I want to join.  I oblige.  We go into the clubhouse and chat.  He tells me I look amazing.  I told you, women know exactly what they are doing when they dress for a date.  I thank him for the compliment.  He gets what he needs and we go back outside.  He’s making Philly cheesesteaks and they are delicious.  We’re listening to music and I’m getting to know his friends.  He doesn’t need to constantly babysit or entertain me.  I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself and I can tell that he likes that.

There is lightning off in the distance.  His friends ask me if its going to storm and I tell them “no.”  I quickly pull up the radar on my phone.  There’s an outflow boundary roughly 20 minutes to the north moving south.  Basically, cold air being pushed out of a thunderstorm.  I tell them that in 20 or so minutes, we’re going to get a few big gusts of wind and then its going to be cooler.

20 minutes later, the outflow arrives.  It gets windy and cooler.  And suddenly, they’re completely amazed by me.  I’m in with the friends…haha.  Science, bitches!

After we eat, the gathering begins to dwindle and everyone goes their separate ways.  The only ones left now are “Mike” and me.  Naturally, we end up in the hot tub.  He may as well have been a cartoon character, watching me as I slid out of my shirt and shorts.  He turns on the jets and we climb in.

He sits only a few inches from me and we talk.  Just the two of us now.  He bends down in front of me and catches me completely off-guard as he grabs my ankles and pulls me toward him.  I’m pressed against him now with my hands wrapped around his neck.  He jokes about how cheesy it would be if our first kiss was in a hot tub.  I respond and tell him that it would be super corny, but I make “eyes” and him and give him all the signals.  Before I know it, our lips are locked and there is some serious spark.  The amount of electricity could put Ben Franklin to shame.  THANK GOD he isn’t a bad kisser or that would have ruined my idealistic expectation of this absolute Adonis in front of me.

We talk and kiss and talk and kiss and flirt some more.  He invites me back to his place for a glass of wine.  Did I mention he drinks wine? Swoooooooooon.  He helps me out of the hot tub and wraps me in a towel like a perfect gentleman.  I grab a pair of jeans and a t-shirt from my car so I can get out of my wet suit and we head back to his apartment.

I walk in and am immediately impressed.  Its nice.  Its clean.  Its well-decorated.  Its a definite bachelor pad but nothing about it screams “serial killer.”  I use his bathroom to change and he pours us each a glass of wine.  I join him on the couch and our conversation continues.  He’s so easy to talk to.  I feel comfortable around him.  He’s sitting with his feet on the floor and I’m sitting with my legs draped across his thighs.  This feels easy and it feels right.  Should I be feeling this comfortable on date #2?  Are there any rules for how this is supposed to go?

After a little while, we engage in a ridiculously hot make out session.  Ladies, I’m talking heat.  There is chemistry…there is fire.  He’s the perfect amount of aggressive.  He makes the first move, isn’t afraid to toss me around a little but then gets unbelievably excited when I decide to make a move right back.  I’ll spare some of the details because I am a lady and an upstanding public figure after all, but let’s just say it was everything I had ever wanted in a hot make out session before but never had.  I’m not a 2nd date slut so we didn’t go for “home” but I definitely needed a cold shower after he walked me to my car.

There’s already another date in the works and he asked me if I would be his date to his friend’s engagement party on Saturday night.  I cancel all plans I had with any other Tinder/eHarmony matches.  I want to see where this thing goes.  My head is spinning and I can’t wait to see him again.

So maybe Tinder isn’t so bad…

I like to think that I’m a “normal” person.  Besides the fact that my career puts me in the local limelight, I consider myself fairly average.  I’m a dork that got lucky and gets to be on television.  That’s honestly how I see myself.  Contrary to the stereotypes that seem to follow some local TV personalities, I don’t have a large ego.  My outgoing personality can fill a room, but I check my ego at the door.  Anyway, I figured that if I am, by my definition, “normal” then there must be some other men on Tinder who are also normal.

I start chatting with a few.  One is British…hot…one is a doctor…super hot…but nothing really comes out of any of it except mindless chat.  My phone rings.  Its “Mike.”  He is asking me out for drinks.  He called.  He picked up the phone, scrolled through his contacts, found my number and pressed “dial.”  It may not seem like a lot, but with everything electronic these days, picking up the phone to physically speak to me earns you bonus points.  Technology isn’t all its cracked up to be sometimes.  I don’t know about you, but I need human interaction.

“Mike” wants to meet in person.  We agree to meet at 9PM at a local bar equidistant from our two apartments.  I gave him a general location of my apartment.  I’m overly cautious as it is and I have never met this man before so I’m vague.  I get dressed for our first “date.”

As mentioned in my previous blog entries, women know exactly what they are doing when they’re getting dressed and ready for a date.  Nothing we wear or do to our hair or makeup is by accident.  We’ve dated enough to know what parts of our body to accentuate and which parts would benefit from being hidden.  We know how to make ourselves the most attractive versions of ourselves.

I decide on a white came with a pale brown sweater over top.  Its opened in the front.  I’m wearing my best bra and happen to be one of the founding members of the “Busty Girls Club” so I keep it classy, but make sure there’s just enough cleavage happening that it gets him to wonder…or at least check me out.  I pair it with skinny jeans and a pair of wedges, fix my hair and makeup (making sure that my baby blue eyes POP) and I’m out the door.

We meet outside the bar.  I pull up first and then he does just a few moments later.  He steps out of his car.  O-M-G he’s gorgeous.  6’1…blonde…blue eyes…broad shoulders…the kind of man you know could pick you up and toss you around…(snap out of it, sister).  He introduces himself and hugs me as I introduce myself.  We go inside and sit at a table and each order a drink.

The conversation is easy and the connection is immediate.  We talk about subjects from work to where we grew up to family to sports, etc.  3 hours pass like its nothing.  I really enjoy talking to Mike.  He’s flirtatious and he keeps telling me that I’m beautiful and notices my eyes (makeup win).  I get up to use the restroom at one point and catch him checking me out.  It feels GOOD.  He thinks I’m hot.  He caught me checking him out once.  His top button on his shirt is undone and I can see a tattoo on his chest just peeking out ever-so-slightly.  I’m curious about it.  I guess I was staring because he told me the story behind the tattoo.  Oops.

Its now after midnight.  He has to work in the morning.  We’ve had 2 drinks.  I’m flying.  I’m so attracted to this man.  I’m wrapped up in everything he is saying.  I am in absolute amazement that this gorgeous man is making eyes at ME!

We walk out of the bar and reluctantly say goodnight.  He says he had an amazing time and already wants to know what I’m doing tomorrow.  He and his friends are grilling out and he wants me to join.  I tell him to give me the details and I’ll try and stop by.  He kisses my cheek and asks me to text him when I get home so he knows I made it alright.  I guess chivalry isn’t completely dead.

I get into my car and take a deep breath.  That was probably the best first date I have ever been on and the fastest I have ever felt a connection with someone.  I drive home in an infatuated daze.  As soon as I pull into my parking spot, I text him to tell him I made it home.

We continue texting back and forth until 3AM.  I have never felt this way after a first date and by his texts to me, neither has he. Could I have found my perfect man this quickly?  Its 3AM and I’m now exhausted but I’m going to sleep with a smile on my face.

He asks me again about cooking out by the pool with his friends.  Of course I’m going.  And I’m shopping for a new outfit first thing in the morning.

Tinder talk

Tinder guy #2.  Let’s call him “Mike.”

I wake up on a Monday morning and check my phone.  I have a message awaiting me on Tinder.  I open it and read:

“While my wardrobe is in dire need…(My 2 pairs of jeans from B Repub are working overtime) I am such a sucker for a gal who dresses well.  You look great.  Hope your Monday is going well!”

Solid opening line.  I’m impressed.  I reply back:

“Thank you for the compliment 🙂  You should probably work on the jeans situation, but I the struggle is so real finding that perfect pair of jeans.  I definitely get it.  Hope you’re having a great day so far.”

We chat via Tinder for a while.  Mike is interesting.  There is something about him that I can’t quite put my finger on yet.  He’s quippy and witty.  He looks gorgeous in his photos.  This man may be too good to be true.

After a while chatting on Tinder, he asks for my number so we can text instead.  I give him my number and we continue our conversation over text.  I find out he works in sales and is in the process of interviewing for a new job.  He’s working on a presentation he has to give at the beginning of the next week.

He’s driven.  He has a new job but he’s looking for something more lucrative.  Points.

I happen to be off work for the next couple of days.  If this guy asks me on a date, I’m saying yes.  We’ll see what happens.  For right now, I’m enjoying our conversations and learning about who he is.  He was a marine, has a close relationship with his friends and family and he has a good job.  He seems like a guy that has a handle on his life.

We’ll see how it goes…

Dating for “ME”

Its been a busy week for this girl.  Between a hectic work schedule and several dates, I’ve fallen off the blogging bandwagon…temporarily.  The good news is: I’m back so where did I leave you?

Ah, yes.  eHarmony guy #2 (“Dave”) and Tinder guy #2 (who we shall name in next blog post).

Let’s start with “Dave.”  I genuinely had a great time on our date so naturally, Dave and I start texting more and make tentative plans to go on another date to an NHL game the following Saturday.  I was in the middle of working an 8 day stretch with erratic hours, so we decided the weekend would be the best chance to make something work.

I really enjoy texting with “Dave.”  He’s funny and clever and our conversations are easy but part of me still feels like something is missing.  Is “Dave” my soulmate?  Probably not.  Am I even looking for a soulmate?  Not sure.  Right now, its fun.  I’m meeting new people, making new friends and learning about myself and what I want for once.

I’ve always had the tendency to date a man that I believed could be “fixed.”  Is it the natural, mothering instinct in women that makes us believe we can help a person?  We can be their saving grace.  Their compass to point them back on the right path.  We can save them from themselves.  We can be what they need to make themselves a better person.  We put aside our wants and needs and focus our energy on someone else and their issues.  We look past this person’s flaws and latch on to those magical moments we share with them that honestly…are few and far between.

WHY DO WE KEEP DOING THIS?  WHY?!

The best dating advice I’ve ever received in my life didn’t come from my best girlfriend or flipping through the pages of Cosmo or reading online dating blogs.  It came from my father.

BACK STORY:

My last long-term relationship went down in fairly epic flames in July of 2014.  We had been together for 3 years and we lived together for 2 of them.  We talked about getting married and starting a family and honestly began planning the next few years of our future together.  Until one Saturday morning, he decided that he couldn’t deal with the uncertainty of my career.  My contract was up in 6 months and I would be moving on to a bigger city for a new position, but I had no clue where I would be.  I knew where I wanted to go but in the world of television news, you move where the job takes you.  He didn’t want to follow me and my career.  So…he was done.  Out of the blue.  There was no discussion, debate, or compromise.  He was done.  He packed up whatever he could fit in his car and 6 hours later, he had moved to another state (back in with his mother, mind you).

About a week later, I’m on vacation with my family.  I’m sitting on the beach and decompressing with my feet in the sand while I stare out at the ocean.  My phone rings.  Its my ex, naturally.  His resume is on my laptop and he is applying for a job so instead of being a decent human being and just creating a new resume all together, he asks me to email it to him.  I designed and wrote it for him when we were together so of course he wants the one that he knows will likely get him a job.

I hang up and reluctantly head back to the house, open my laptop and email him the document.  Immediately, I begin to cry.  You don’t spend 3 years of your life with someone if you don’t honestly believe that you have a future together.  When it all comes crashing down, its hard to think of what could be next.

I grab a couple of Coronas and sit on the deck with my dad.  He is a wonderful man.  If I could find a husband half as amazing as my father, I would be happy.

My dad starts off this conversation.  His intentions are good, but he definitely needs to work on the delivery.

“K, you’re going to have a hard time finding a man.”

“Well…thanks, Dad.”

“Just listen for a second.”

“Definitely need to work on a smoother delivery there, old man.”

“Sorry, but listen.  You are smart, talented and driven.  You’re beautiful and successful and a lot of men find that intimidating.  You may have a hard time finding someone who is on your same intellectual level.”

“So…basically…I’m doomed.”

“No.  I’m not saying that.  You need to stop dating boys and start dating men.  You need to find a man who has his life together.  Someone who doesn’t need to be fixed.  Someone who can take care of you for a change.  You deserve to be taken care of and you want to date someone who challenges you and makes you a better version of yourself.  Stop dating losers.  Start dating men with careers.  Men who can support you.  Men who don’t have personal issues that interfere with your relationship.  Date someone who appreciates what you do.  Someone who is as passionate about their career and their life as you are about yours.”

He is typically not a man of many words, but damn these words were good.  They hit me right in the feels.  He was on the money with this one.  So, I sit and ponder as I stare at the ocean.  Cool breeze on my face and beer in hand. I decide right then and there that whenever I begin dating again, I will date for ME this time.

BACK TO NOW:

“Dave” and I have a date in the works, but its a week away.  In the meantime, I’m still having a few other conversations on eHarmony and even Tinder, too.  Its fun.  Every day, there are new people to talk to and another chance for you to swipe right or left.  Superficial?  Maybe.  But its something new.

Tinder guy #2 sends me his first message and I am completely enticed by his approach…