Serious Talking Up to Bat

I forgot about the agony of waiting for a text when you really, actually like a man.

I forgot about my nasty habit of channeling all of the loneliness related to starting a new life in a new town into waiting for a single, damned text.  It is as if all of my self worth depends on that little "bing" from my iPhone.

I did not forget about how draining it is to hope all while hating myself for hoping.

I texted back and forth with talking man #3 for hours every evening three days in a row.  He seems wonderful!  We had deep, self-revealing conversations via text message and I was really looking forward to meeting him!

I then left town for Thanksgiving.  Other than a short "Happy Thanksgiving" conversation initiated by me, I have not heard from him in 3 days.

I am back in town and have sworn not to text him first.  Now I have to wait to see if his radio silence is because of my trip and family holidays or if he has dropped the conversation.

Agony.

I'll have an answer within 24 hours.  I will then either quickly move on and forget about this dude or I will be elated to keep talking to him.  For now, though, it is agony.

My only choice now is to take tons of Benedryl and go to sleep.   In my sleep, I do not keep checking the damned phone.

Serious Talking Strike #2

Man number two had a lot of potential.  He is gainfully employed, single, cute, black, and has a very sexy French-Canadian accent. 

He got my phone number.  We texted.  He called.  We talked on the phone.

Although we never got past small talk and flirting, I quickly learned that he was used to a certain amount of drama. If I didn't text back fast enough, he would write "it seems that you are busy..."

I said that I like to take things slow and keep it light for the first few dates.  He told me that he hates it when women lie to him and string him along.  He is looking for the real thing.

The nail in the coffin?  We tentatively made a date for a Sunday evening.  He hadn't chosen the spot yet as of Tuesday night and said he would get back to me.  He texted small talk on Wednesday and then I didn't hear from him again until mid-afternoon on Sunday.

In the grown-up world, you make other plans when the man you have never met quits texting.  I told him that I made other plans, even though I could have dropped everything and met him an hour away with only two hours' notice.  I have self respect.

He got really pissy and accused me of playing games.  What????  Are we in high school again?  I don't have time or the emotional energy for games, little man.  If you are this much drama before we meet, I have no desire to experience your drama face to face!

No thank you! 

Drama Man follow-up:  He texted me a cryptic Happy Thanksgiving message that began with the phrase "We may not always get what we want..."  I did not reply.

Serious talking strike #1

The first man I could say I was "talking" with happened weeks ago.  We didn't actually get to the point of texting, but exchanged long and charming emails for about 3 days.  I then realized that everything he said was negative.  He hated everything.  Everyone.  Life sucked.  He took a lot of pride in being a pessimist. 

No thank you! 

"Talking" with men.

My generation was robbed of this wonderful label for the period of flirtation and mutual interest before you actually date someone.  Before the 25 and younger crowd created this phenomenon, you could only admit that you had a crush on someone and that you really, really hope they ask you out.

I think that this awesome new phase of relationships is proof of human evolution. 

Friend:  Hey, what is up with you and Johnny?
Me:  Well, right now we are talking...
Friend:  Oooooo, I knew it!  Tell me more!

I love it!   I can now claim to have at least the shadow of a relationship with a socially acceptable label!*  It makes me feel very cool.

Online dating and dating in general is just a cycle of talking with a man, getting my hopes up, dropping it either right before or right after the first date, and then starting the cycle all over again with a new man.

I am now talking with the fourth man since re-entering this dating cycle.  Exhausting.  I must remind myself that one day...one wonderful, magical, planet-aligning day... I will end up talking to a man who becomes a boyfriend. 

*Explaining this makes it very clear that I am old and a little bit sad. 

Things I shouldn't admit: Tummy pillow

I have been fat all my life.  I've gotten quit used to finding ways to tuck, set, hide, and otherwise manage my stomach rolls.

Last night, I realized that I will not be able to reach past my toes from a seated position until I lose the lower tummy pillow.  I can only bend over so far before my stomach hits my thighs like a stopper.

Damn you, tummy pillow.

The splits

I stretch every night while watching TV.  My goal is to be able to do a complete straddle in a year's time.

Why?  I have no fucking idea. 

I think it is related to turning 35 and remembering that the last time I thought I was really awesome was when I was 6.  At six years old, my sister was taking dance and tried to do the splits.  Her cool older friends would come over and they would stretch and try all afternoon.  I quickly learned that doing a full straddle and touching my nose to the ground made me really awesome.

I spent the entire year doing a straddle for anyone who would watch.

I was awesome.  I want to be awesome again. 

It was a triumphant moment when, after only a week of stretching, I moved my legs past 90 degrees.  I am still far from awesome. 

The excellent side effect is that I stretch better while warmed up, so I now ride my stationary bike every night.  I never rode it to burn calories or get healthy, but it seems worth the time if it will help me to do the splits.

(Yes, I know that I am batshit crazy.  If the crazy is leading to healthier living, embrace it.)

Back in the Saddle

Back in the saddle again seems like a horrible metaphor for getting back into the dating world after a 3 year hiatus.  I've seen people get back in a saddle.  There is not nearly as much nausea as I am experiencing.

Maybe a better phrase would be "back on the roller coaster" or "back in the undertow."

Today I sent my number to two different men from dating websites.  I've been talking to both for a couple of weeks now and have broken all of my safety rules about meeting someone before giving out personal information.

Why? 

I am now chickenshit.  I don't have the energy or desire to set dates and drive an hour to meet a complete stranger.  Those dates are full of adventure.  They are also really draining and disappointing.  I ain't got time for that shit.

So, after a nice little pep talk, I sent my number to a couple of people who seem like harmless starter men.*  I immediately wanted to throw up. 

Starter 1:
A divorced father of two who makes doors for a living.  His hobbies include being a redneck and not using punctuation.  He already offered to drive 1 1/2 hours to meet me in my tiny town.  I declined, but gave him my number to buy some time.

Starter 2:
A man who claims to be an engineer who makes good money, but whose writing skills reflect that of a Radio Shack employee.  He seems nice, but his only picture is in a sweater that is so ugly, I hope it is a joke.  He is black and loves his momma, so I have overlooked the unfortunate sweater.

Can I even find my sexy clothes anymore?  I guess I'll find out in the next month or so.

*A starter man is very similar to a rebound.  They seem nice and may make a good diversion, but nothing about them says that they are the men of my dreams.  Neither of today's starter men can spell or write in complete sentences.  Texting will be painful.  I hope to practice on these men (not in bed) so that when I meet someone awesome, there will be a better chance that I won't sweat through my shirt on the first date.