Cell Phone Holsters are a No GO

Ahhhh.  Summertime.

The time for new dates, campfires, books, outdoors.  Who isn't in heaven?

Speaking of new dates.  I met Green Eyes, and it was a bust.  Here's why.  With internet dating people fall into two categories: those who look better than their pictures and those who don't.

He was sadly one of those who don't.

In his PICTURES, he looked very manly, sensual, attractive.  In person, he was much smaller and shorter in stature than me.  I have a simple rule.  I don't date guys who weigh less than I bench press.  I'll bet this guy was 30 pounds lighter than I.  But it wasn't just that.

He.  Wore. A.  Cell-phone. Holster. 

Who the fuck wears a cell phone holster under the age of 80?  The kind that you have to take off your belt, attach holster to belt (aren't belts like 80's anyway?), put back on belt, tuck shirt in (tuck shirt in damn it?!).  I once saw a guy at the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally wear a cell phone holster, leather-man tool holster, cigarette pack holster and wallet holster.  I think I even took pics and blogged about it.

PLUS, he wore stone-washed, knee length denim shorts.  Hello, Tiffany called, and she'll be singing her top 40 hits at the mall later today.

And white tennis shoes.  AND white socks pulled up to his shins.  Are you effin' kidding me?

AND, a polo shirt tucked in.

AND, in his PICTURES, he had very short hair which looked nice, since he has a receding hairline, but in PERSON, he had grown it out a couple inches so on top it stood straight up, but was the texture of a baby bunny.  It was all I could do to not stare at it the whole time and refrain from touching it.

Needless to say, it was a miss. 

Plus, he kept saying in a very exhilarating fashion, "Really?!!!!!" to half the things that I said that weren't that interesting to begin with.

"It sure has rained a lot lately," I said as we sat at Indy's having a beer.
"Really??!!" he exclaimed.  (Well, yeah, no shit.  How can you NOT see the weather?)  Plus, talking about the weather is generally the kiss of death on a first date.

Then later,

"I'm reading a good book about a white water rafter on the Colorado River," I began, then remembered he said he doesn't have much use for reading or books in general.

"Really??!!" he exclaimed for the four hundredth time that afternoon.


Sigh.  I'm watchin' out for us. 

More later as Indifferent Dude has suddenly become rather interesting.

Indifferent Dude, Bouncers and 1980 Moustaches

Well, the good thing about being laid off for the summer, is if you're clumsy like me and twist your knee, you have plenty of time to heal and reflect.

The Bouncer
Speaking of reflecting, I don't think many people do that anymore between relationships.  A "Bouncer" doesn't take time off from relationships.  A Bouncer is a person who skips from one failing relationship, immediately to a new relationship (with no single time in between), sometimes having two feet in two different relationships at the same time.  1. doing so is not fair to either relationship and 2. is unhealthy and allows no time for the Bouncer to learn or heal. 3. and is really narcissistic when you get right down to it because why they're doing it in the first place is secret fear (they're not aware of it) of being alone, despite all costs to others' involved.  My ex is a "Bouncer" and bounced right into another relationship with another Bouncer (she just recently got divorced from an abuser) just as he was closing the door on his last relationship, the embers not even cooled.  His ex is no better and also Bounced into a new relationship, and in fact, moved in with him, IMMEDIATELY after said break up.

How is this healthy or normal?

I have to admit, I've even been a Bouncer before, but not for a long, long time.  The past ten years has taught me that being one isn't cool.  In fact, I cringe at my past Bounces.

So what's going on as of last night?

Indifferent Dude is Growing Slightly Cuter
The meeting with Indifferent Dude last night was FUN.  Not only did he pick me up and help me into his vehicle with my crutch, he ran to open all doors for me and give me his arm.  Aahhhhhh.  How sweet.  And, get this, he picked up the tab without that awkward tab-grabbing ritual you sometimes have to go through!

We talked books, and I loaned him one.  Even though he wore his "work Dork clothes" Dockers (e'gads!) and a tucked in shirt, he looked sort of cute in a nerd-way, but not so nerdly that he was getting dressed up to go to a Star Trek convention or anything.  I'm up for getting to know Indifferent Guy!!!!

Then there's Magnum PI Mustache--
I'm not remotely interested in this one.  But he's a project I'm considering taking on, since he's begged me to help him.  I originally wrote him, not to be condescending, but because he had the worst profile I have ever seen, yet seems like a clueless, nice guy.

"I've had this stache since 1980 and my first Trans Am.  You think women like it?" he asked.

"Uh, no.  Women don't normally go for a thick lip-shrub full of food-crumbs which engulf their entire lip.  And 1980 called and Olivia Newton John wants her leg warmers back, so NO, it's not cool," I wrote.

"Really?  No gal would like that?"

"Uh, (not wanting to further hurt his feelings) maybe someone in a geriatrics' home."

Also envision a 1970's Marty Feldmen style hairdo with a horribly receding hairline.  Then this lip-bush-Magnum P.I. mustache business.  Imagine several pics of tucked in shirts, pants that come up to his moobs.  His gawd awful shirts have had to been from 1979.  He admitted that no one writes him back and asked me for my help.  It might be more than I can take on.  LOL.  OR it could be lots more fodder for this blog.

You decide. 

Update from Crackie

Outside of Carthage, eastern South Dakota, where parts of Into the Wild were filmed.  Those of you who don't know what that film is, it's about Chris McCandless and his across the U.S. trek, his stop-over and good times in SD, then his sad demise in Alaska.

So Jen and I made this wilderness adventure last weekend, with my knee wrapped up in a pound of gauze, and went to where McCandless had good times.

It's the kind of "crazy drive several hundred miles across the state" thing that Crackie would do.

Speaking of him, he's back in town from California for the summer and fall, and he wrote me a long email this week.  Like always, my heart-strings get pulled.  When he's neutral or in his bi-polar upswing, he's more fun than bungee jumping.

He wants to come up and see me, his twice-a-year-thing.  Seeing me, means a very intense, three to four day and night date, where we do what some couples take months to do: we go thrifting, ghost town seeing, stay up late and talk, watch documentaries, have deep talks about life then not see each other for almost a year.  Inevitably, we accidentally brush into each other in my small hallway or our toes accidentally touch while we're on the couch, and the sparks fly.  Only, nothing ever happens.  He spends the night on my extra bed in the basement.  EVEN though it's clear we are crazy about each other, and have been since 2011.  Why does nothing happen?  This is partly because he has depression, but mostly because he's emotionally unavailable, meaning terrified to get hurt again.  Well, join the club, Crackie.

I wonder what will happen this time?  If I were ballsy enough, I'd just post his picture, the last time we were together last February.  With a little taunting, I might just do that.

UPDATES:
1.  I had a phone date with Green Eyes.  And get this, he's pretty nice, and while he doesn't have a masculine voice, he doesn't sound like Diana Ross; we're going to try and hang out this weekend.  Yes!  I hope he's not a midget.
2. Indifferent Dude has offered to pick me up tonight and take me to happy hour.  Let's see if he picks up the tab!  

Guys Who Actually Want to Meet vs "The Idea of Meeting"

Bennie and me chillin', since I slipped and fell down last Sunday and sprained my knee.

I always got to give props to TT for her theory of "Guys who only like the IDEA of meeting but never want to actually meet," which is always spot on when internet dating.

Assistant Principal
I'm getting the idea that Assistant Principal doesn't really want to date, rather, just likes the idea.  He texts me every day, but it's always the same, "Happy Wednesday!"  And we have yet to talk on the phone.  Boring.  I gave him props for texting, "I'm kind of hiding behind technology.  I'm sort of shy."  OK, at last a man who's willing to admit this.  But are we ever going to meet?  He says he's protecting his children whom he has custody of during the school year (got it, doesn't want a parade of women into his life to confuse his kids).  Cool, a guy with integrity.  But they're back with his ex now.  So what gives?

Indifferent Dude                        
Then there's that dude I met last week.  Since he's so new, I've yet to nickname him.  He's not bad looking, and he's funny and talks a lot like Sagittarius men do, is educated, never been married--sounds good, right?  But I can't decide if I'm attracted to him or not (don't usually go for short blondes).  I like his personality so far though.  We talked about 4 hours downtown, listening to the band.  We laughed; he's easy-going.  At one point, we were talking about cooking, and he said he likes to cook and that couples these days need to share the "responsibilities and stuff."  What stuff?  Bills?  Is he a cheapskate, I wondered.  I dated one of those for ten years, ain't gonna do that one again.  Like all guys, he lied about his height. He's my height, not 5'10".  Since I'm indifferent about him, maybe I'll call him Indifferent?

Green Eyes
Green eyes is a guy with the kindest looking eyes I've seen thus far, electronically.  Green eyes hasn't been dating really at all since he's been divorced, so it seems from his website, "I've never done the online thing, so I thought I'd give it a try since I don't go out much."  Wow, really?  He's got a house on the nice side of town, works two jobs, one job just on Sundays, so he's not lazy.  But, he told me he doesn't read books and in fact, doesn't read much at all.  WTF.  BUT, he's nice.  His texts are literate, and he said he'd CALL me TONIGHT.  We'll see!

The Married
You know, I've been dating my whole life, and single and relationship-less for ten years now, so it was only a matter of time, before one of these would pop up (let alone the time a doctor here in town wanted to know if I'd swing with him and his wife, PIG).  This guy actually isn't a pig.  He's not looking to hook up. I didn't know he was married until we'd exchanged tons of emails and I found myself liking him, then he admitted he was married and of course, "miserably married."  Educated, former engineer, owns a campground, million things in common.  I told him that he was as unavailable to me as a 100 year old man, or a gay man now that I know he's married.  He was crushed and wanted to know if we could still be friends.  Why?  I told him NORMAL people get a divorce if they're that "miserably married," NOT trying to find a reason to get divorced--me.  Let alone, get divorced, wait a few years, then start dating again.  I mean, really?  Why would I want to get attached to him?  He writes me constantly, but I blow 99% of them off.  He wants to read this blog. Hilarious.

The Ex
My ex, from a long time ago, (like before this blog)  has been comparing me a lot lately to his new girl friend whom he hid from me for over a year now.  Apparently, she's perfect.  She uber-feminine, doesn't drink, cuss, fart, or read while taking a shit (who doesn't read while taking a dump?  I have a whole library in my bathroom.  The only thing that beats a bathroom library, would be if there was a bar in a bathroom).  I'm kind of dependent upon him right now because I hurt my knee.  So he and his new little wifey, are coming over tomorrow to pick up my old dryer since my guy friend Michael Jackson-voice and I can't lift it with my knee blown out.  The whole thing with my ex would be funny in a way if it were happening to someone else or if I didn't still care for him.  I said I'd never blog about him, but I'm pissed at him today, so, so be it.

Michael Jackson-voice
We hiked again last weekend, and I had a great time, and he gave me his old clothes dryer, though once he drug it down into my basement, then drug the old one out and deposited it on my lawn, then jogged back into my basement and turned the new dryer on, he found that it doesn't work.  He's pretty cute and very sweet.  But I've never heard a man with a voice this high.  It is definitely NOT attractive.  But he's so nice, toting two dryers around on his back, that I'm trying to get my head around his voice.  But how do you find chemistry with someone who sounds like Diana Ross?

Southern Gentleman 
Is still in the picture, good manners as always.  But I find myself not attracted to him since he's about 100 lbs. overweight.  People who say that looks don't matter are right.  When you're friends, they sure don't matter. But calculating how many beers you would need to drink (8?) to make out with him isn't a good sign.

Shawn-from-the-gym
Well, even though I went out of my way to invite him, he never showed to our game of Cards Against Humanity last Friday.  Then again, neither did anyone from our writers' group.  So who knows what's going on with him.  Since I'm injured, I won't see him at the gym this week, and that's good, because I'm sorta pissed and let him just wonder where I am.  I went OUT ON A LIMB and asked him to hang out.  The least he could have done was show up.  But maybe he's like all these internet guys.  Maybe he likes the idea of dating me, but doesn't want to.

Oh, and Crackie finally wrote me.  He said he "missed me," whatever that means.  Maybe I should blog about him next?  After all, I'm on the couch with a giant ice pack around my knee and nothing else to do.

Stay tuned.

Pitas, Parties and Tunes

Some killer Satay I made last summer.  It's reminding me to try out the new pita place downtown before I hang out downtown, check out a band that's half-way decent, and hopefully meet this new dude.

He's so new, he's nameless right now, but hang tight, kids, I'll come up with a nickname soon enough.  In fact, there's two new dudes on the horizon.

This one, Nameless, I'm going to look for at the concert downtown.

All I know about him is he's a Sagitarius yay!  And he's educated.  Yay!  And he knows a lot about beer.  Yay!  And he has hair.  Big yay!

Stay tuned.

Sex and the City vs Reality

Me and Bennie lookin' cool.  And just about ready to hit the gym and watch some Sex and the City, though I might have to start watching something else even though that show rocks.

The other day JJ noted,
"You're obsessing over men again.  What gives?"

And I have to admit, this pissed me off, what with all the self-help I've done over the past three years.  So I wondered why am I doing this.  The reason?  It's so simple you'll laugh.  It's because the Food Network keeps showing Ree's Drummond's stupid show The Pioneer Idiot, and that dumb show about restaurant owners putting up hidden cameras to bust their minimum wage employees for doing horrible things like texting or laughing on the job.  So, I flipped around and found a channel that runs marathons of Sex and the City.  While this does wonders for my figure, making me stay longer and doing more cardio I found out that watching this show is bad for my mental health.

Why?

The show is well written.  The acting is great.  And so much of what they say about dating and men is spot on.

So why is it bad for us?

JJ is right.  It makes women obsess and feel like losers if they're not in a relationship.  And considering over 60% of American women are single, this isn't a good message.

I don't need to be feeling desperate again.  As if being single for TEN YEARS with only a handful of dates isn't enough pressure.

So what's going on in my big, fat, dating world?

The Pentecostal
The Pentecostal I went out with last week was just so-so.  Of course, he didn't have a beer with me when we met--only a root beer.  I tried my best to not let loose any F-bombs or bring up such begging questions as "So do you guys do that speaking in tongues crap?  How do you keep from laughing?"  We shared a pizza, and he went out and bought a new tent due to my pressuring him about how cool camping is.  But he was also giving me that icky "face-rape" look you get from guys.  So that lost points.  We'll see how that pans out.

Micheal Jackson
Memorial Day, I went hiking with a different dude, a nice enough guy who's also sort of a religious type.  We'll call him Micheal Jackson.  It was fun.  He's sort of cute, too.  And he wants to give me an extra clothes dryer that he no longer needs, so that's a real bonus.  But when he talks, he sounds exactly like Micheal Jackson, soooooo. . .  I had gas really bad when we were hiking so I had to do many "Cammo Coughs" to cover up some butt-trumpeting.  Hopefully, he never heard any of them.

High School Principal
Then there's the "Assistant Principal" guy.  He's cute, and he's only less than one hour away, but his texts to me are so sparse of words, that I wonder if he has some texting plan where they charge him per word or something.  And we have yet to have a phone conversation.  "If you want to go hiking, I'm booked up until mid July," he texted me.  OK.  He's got school for another two weeks and custody of his kids until then.  I get it, so why you even trying to date then?

Southern Gentleman
And don't forget, the Southern Gentleman is still texting me.  He had back surgery last week, but is recovering well.  If he could only lose about 75 pounds, he'd be dreamy.  But after his last frightening "selfie" last month I grew scared.  For starters, it was shirtless in a hot tub.  Four double chins, a tiny, tiny tuft of hair on top his head reminding me of a bean sprout and a gold chain.  But he's nice, soooooooo.  How far "nice" gets a gal, I'm not sure.

The BEST of them All, Shawn-from-the-gym
And finally there's Shawn-at-the-gym guy, the one I really want to date.  We talked last Friday at the gym for about an hour before we both went our separate ways.  As usual, the conversation was stellar, and we both did a lot of laughing.

"Sooooooo, I guess I'll hit Paddy's for a beer," I said hopefully throwing out some bait.
"I'll probably go home and help my dad mow," Shawn said.

OK, at least he didn't say, "I have to go home and organize my sock drawer."  Still, bummer.   I just can't seem to get outta the batter's box with this guy.

And I haven't even brought up Deadwood Dick.  He's still wanting to take me out, maybe next week, but I haven't told him I'm not an E.R. doctor yet.  (see "Deadwood Dick" many posts back this winter)


Stay tuned, and happy summer!