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Posts Tagged ‘aussie’

I hit the pause button. I didn’t delete my profile, I just deactivated it. The idea of dating right now is exhausting and NOT in that fun and thrilling kind of way. The slew of douche bags (hello fiscally conservative guy who feels put upon by the poor), Utopian seeking (hola neuro surfing Aussie who wants pretty smiles and hot kisses BUT no real life), frigid/fickle-tons (flirting in the last 5 seconds of the date and kissing me ONLY then and never touching me… if you like me, touch me, if you don’t, stop calling me…PLEASE), with crazy ex’s (turns out Virginia’s ex was the cause of his flake…and I thank him, as she might have boiled all of my neighbors pets in a Glenn Close move, had he and I actually successfully gone out again)…. has broken me. I’m broken.

With my stalled career, lack of true income, unresolved health issue, and general malaise regarding being 37 and farther behind than I feel I should…I just can’t fake the dating right now. All I have the energy for is the comfort of old dances and familiar hands, as much as you may disagree, it’s the one solace I have at the moment, and it’s good that it came around when it did, because this is what I need.

 

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In the matter of three days…I met someone who actually took my mind off Type Geek. Someone who I was starting to majorly crush on. Someone who I lounged with well over multiple cocktails in cozy corner booths and kissed boldly in the midst of a first date. He photographed me on walks, rubbed my shoulders at the movie theatre, played with my fingers under the table. He told me of things he wanted to do with me, little adventures. Then, in a moment of feeling like he was an understanding stand up guy, as I was finding myself getting wrapped up in these ideas of these future adventures, I put some things on the table. Some things about my past. My family, my business, my sexuality. The next day, he said it was pretty heavy stuff and that he needed a day or two to process it.  But then, that was it. Only thing is, he never came back to ask for clarification, to ask questions, to tell me that he understands that things that happened around me and too me, are not the same as me and that it’s okay. Instead, the message I received loudly, through echoing silence, was that he doesn’t think I’m worth giving the benefit of the doubt to, or a moment to call me or text me and tell me that. My feelings are hurt far more than I thought and I am terribly disappointed because I was really really crushing on the Aussie.

I really want my turn. When is it going to be my turn?

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Friday night I called in a lifeline. I was having a drink with a date that I had already known walking in was a bad idea. Widowed less than 6 months ago by a depressive suicidal wife who took her own life, he was vulnerable,  awkward, and also the epitome of software nerd. This guy, I knew he wasn’t a match, but yet, how do you cancel on someone who’s wife od’d on vicodin just months earlier, leaving behind a confused man and two young boys? You don’t. You go.

So: In the hour I was with him, he didn’t notice, nor offer to go to the bar and get me a drink, as he absent mindeldy just drank his as I stood there without anything in MY hand. He didn’t ask me if/what I wanted. He just struggled for words to fill the spaces. He likes video games and PBS reality shows about pioneering. He awkwardly interjected and introduced himself into conversations with friends I’d run into before I had the opportunity to get to that point in the greeting.  We aren’t talking 5 minutes here. Maybe 45 seconds. He complimented me on my blouse and then asked WHERE I got it. Umm, where I got it? Are you really interested in WHERE I got it? And he can’t follow social cues on where a conversation is heading, instead he forces it into a place that he’s wanting it to live. Sigh. I couldn’t do it, it was painful, both to watch and be involved in, so I politely bailed out.

I then ran into a newish friend and we shared some Indian food and a few cocktails while chatting about men and their foibles.

The night before… I had a great date. Sandwiched between the Man-Child cancellation and the Awkward Widower was a brilliant handsome Aussie who surfs. We are heading out again tonight, a walk with the pup, then a bit of spaghetti western and cocktails. Perfect.

 

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What a long day! I did a bit of work early in the day and then had a coffee date with the Aussie Vegan. Cute but young, with a great accent. We talked for a long time about our individual businesses and how our personal ethos work within our businesses and the world outside. Spark? Nope. However, he is definitely someone I would like to hang out with as friends in the future. Bright kid and I think he has an amazing future ahead of him. We drank coffee for a couple hours and then I walked him to the train station and met up with my artist friend who works around the corner.

I found out tonight that my friend’s coworkers call me his stalker. Amusing, since the last 2 years that I have been coming in, I have been a flag waving lesbian. His colleagues find it funny that I come in and we talk for hours on end. It must be something insidious, right? I did consider him an option, for a moment, in the fall though. Right after I had started thinking about men, prior to my crush and subsequent exploratory trip to the Pac NW, I sent him a Facebook message that somehow never made its way to him. I was asking him out for a drink, which he claims, all men consider a clear and definitive “get busy” kind of signal. I had no idea that all I had to say was, “Hey, wanna have a drink?” and that it could be so powerful. unfortunately, or fortunately, the message never went through and our friendship has stayed happily un-awkward. Besides, if I had been blurring up the picture he would not have met this gorgeous complete package that he fell, “arse over tit” for a few weeks ago. He beams when he talks about her. It’s a beautiful sight! I am so very happy for him. I would have just used him for cheap experimentation and it would have been weird afterward. Instead, now we can have a great friendship in which we have alcoholic beverages and discuss our various antics, and then he can read this blog and laugh heartily, while breathing a sigh of relief.

Speaking of being arse over tit, he is killing me! Does the hottie Peruvian NEVER check his mail? Come on man, New Year’s is now mere days away. I am getting hot hard wax put on places of my body tomorrow that should rationally NEVER see hot hard wax… and then having it pulled off. Mostly for me, because I hate body hair, BUT I could go longer, I do not need to do it now, UNLESS I can spend New Years wrapped around him like a ribbon. Hot girl, heels, brazilian,WILLING … what more do you need man?!!!

Can we all do a collective silent meditative chant this morning asking McHottie Peruvian to check his mail and open the pretty envelope, read the pretty invite and respond to the hot girl who pasted that invite with her own little fingers? Thank you everyone.

This afternoon finds another coffee date after a client meeting, the dog owning Asian gentleman, and then my wax. McHottie’s house is 5 minutes from my waxing appointment. Sigh.

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I wasn’t sure how I was feeling about the coming week. I had made a hair and a waxing appointment in hopes that I would hear from the hottie, but I had no dates in sight. Then, suddenly in the matter of a few hours I have 4 with the potential for another. All afternoon dates, which I find easier because you can escape them if they are going poorly. The Aussie vegan anarchist, an ex reformed Jew with mussed up hair, a dog loving asian gentleman and someone training for a marathon. The 4th potential is the Jewish Dad. I am not actively seeking Jewish men, I just happen to find them adorable and then find out they are Jewish. Is there something wrong with that? On top of all of this, I check my email to find that the hottie Peruvian is no longer possible McDouche, because he emailed to say Hello. Yay. I might just have a New Year’s Eve reason for that wax after all!

I did get my daily astrology.com love tarot and again it was that damn King of Pentacles. I get it, I do. So, present me universe with one thing that is viable and perhaps this blog will change its focus from dating many to dating one. However, until you provide a man who can handle me and be handled by me or a clear path back to women, stop taunting me with the King of Pentacles.

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I had made plans with this one gentleman to get together today for coffee but I woke up unable to do it. I called him to rain check but truth be told, I don’t really even want to. I feel badly though. I feel as if he has put so much effort in with emails that I should just give him the 2 hours. Bad way to go into a date right? Then there is the Jewish dad with the pack of dogs that wants to get together but I am not feeling that either. He’s abrasive and his laugh annoys me. Really annoys me. Sigh. There is a young one I spoke with the other day who is intriguing. I don’t normally reply back to men in their 20’s but he seemed to have already experienced his late 20’s existential dilemma. Plus, he turns 30 today. I promised him a birthday drink when he gets back from California.

Interestingly enough, today, 3 men in their 20’s have contacted me. Currently, I am on Skype with a young Aussie vegan who believes in economic anarchism and has a propensity for stabbing himself accidently every time he gets near a chefs knife.  He sounds cute and has some strong opinions that he is able to stand by and offer back up support on why he feels that way.

Well, he just asked me if I want to meet up tonight for drinks. Hmm, ok, why the hell not. Time to jump in the shower as he will be picking me up in an hour.  Strange how I began this post having canceled a date and ended it running out for one.  I will update you all when I get in this evening.

Or I will update this post, as he phoned me while I was in the shower realizing that he needs to get to bed early tonight for a meeting in the morning. So, we have rescheduled for coffee tomorrow afternoon. Ha, this day.

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