four dudes in four days

So today I enjoyed lunch at an ethnic bistro tucked away in a part of town I don’t normally get to. “Why?”

Because I was on my fourth first date in as many days.

Here’s a summary:

At least three of these four gents were better company than the two I met on my last footloose and fancy-free weekend.
Two of four share the sun sign Aquarius (who are supposed to make a good match for this Libra); the others were a Scorpio and Virgo (not so likely to be good mates for me).
In no particular order: lawyer, artist, IT, civil service.
I enjoyed coffee (iced tea, actually) and a (very hot and humid) walk; musical theatre and sushi; upscale fusion bistro (small plates with sparkling wine); and today’s ethnic lunch.
One of the gentlemen arrived with a gift — a book related to the subject of a conversation we’d had. He later complimented me on my hair and my engaging conversation.
One guy was from out-of-town. He was traveling for some creative work and proved far cuter and far more engaging than his profile might have suggested. Glad I took a chance to meet him, but didn’t get too caught up, as he leaves town later this week. Still, nice lips.
One of the fellows confessed to having listed his $60k income because, he explained, “since it’s not very much, I want to be really up front about it.” Admirable reasoning, I thought. And he seems genuinely passionate about his work for the greater good.
One of the fellows was more stifled that the others, and I couldn’t figure out whether his obscure interests were a merely result of having worked hard at being different from everyone else or if they had somehow (how?!) evolved more naturally.
I can’t figure out if one of them is merely looking for a beard…

At any rate, here are some self observations:

I must be relaxing and getting good at this, because everyone I meet seems to want to see me again.
I’m attracting men who are within the range of what I’d call “intellectual equals.” (Thank heavens, after so many conversations that went nowhere last summer.)
Most are even better looking than their profile pictures — a pleasant discovery.
I’m having fun!
I’m not feeling raging chemistry for any of them, but could rank them if pressed. I’m willing to give it time and see if something develops (but I know that, for one at least, it won’t).
It’s sort of exhausting.

In any case, I’d better rest up (and save my pocket change for the sitter) — on my next available weekend, I’m going to be dripping in dates!

my new dating philosophy

I never got a chance to discuss my new dating philosophy last autumn, because I went straight from not seeing anyone to seeing someone exclusively. Which was kind of against my new philosophy, really. But it’s not always easy to implement a philosophy into action when it’s new, right?

So here goes:

I’m meeting people and I’m enjoying every experience. I’m learning more about my likes and dislikes and myself in relation to experiences with others. Liken it to being in a chocolate boutique, trying a small amount of that which looks good to me and continuing to circle the store, checking out the options, sampling as I go, believing that I’ll know when I find the flavor that’s a perfect fit for my palate. Except that I’m engaging more than my senses of taste and smell, but also my feelings and intellect.

As I woman, my natural tendency is to become too easily drawn in to the notion that the one I’m seeing could be the one — and developing those kinds of hopeful, yearning, attached feelings too early on can be unhealthy. It’s when we get caught in that place that we allow ourselves to be treated as “less than,” to get too physical before we’re emotionally prepared or on the same page as a man, or stand on unequal footing from our male counterpart who is “just dating.” In other words, I’m trying to view dating more like a man does — as a fun process of getting to meet people, get to know them and take my time determining whether they’re someone I’d like in my life.

I’m not alone in this approach. In fact, I’ve been clued in by the teachings of Mama Gena and by learning about what Rori Raye calls “circular dating.”

As such, I’ve become better at being direct about certain things while suspending judgement about others. And I’m having fun! I’ll write more about the dates I’ve had this weekend a little later.

spring status

It’s been a while since I’ve dropped in for a simple status update, so here it is:

I mentioned earlier that I’m getting a bit of attention since going back online. I’ve got two or three dates lined up for this weekend. Should be fun! There are actually a couple of the guys with whom I’m really enjoying communicating, and I’m looking forward to meeting them.
While I don’t listen to him exclusively / obsessively anymore, I’m still mad about Bob Schneider, the man who got me through the worst days of my divorce — and I think you should check out his tunage when you can.
I am so happy and I love my life so much! The children are at a spectacular age, I’m enjoying time outdoors and I am so fulfilled with the richness and blessings in my life. Gratitude!
I go to work each day happy for the challenges I face and the rewarding work I get to do. And today was an incredibly productive day — yay!
I get the weekend off! Which is great, because I actually have studying to do and I can’t wait to dig in and learn something new.
The berries are becoming ripe and the rhubarb is ready for harvest (again) — I love the fecundity of my little patch of soil. And I can’t wait to make a rhubarb crisp to share with my work colleagues.
My daughter’s teacher was a real hard ass about “may” vs. “can.” As a result, my daughter uses “may I…” — hooray for proper grammar!

You see? It really is the simple things that bring so much joy.

What else have I brought up that I need to close the loop? Let me know if there’s something you’re dying to hear about.

all my best

Nearly a year ago I attempted to capture what I felt were my worst, most appallingly bad qualities as if to warn a potential partner of what he might be getting in to. I suspect, at the time, many of the things I wrote were still rather reactionary. For example, I wrote about needing a lot of attention…which I probably don’t compared to others, but which I definitely do compared to what I received in my last relationship. You see what I’m getting at…

Here, if for no other reason than to illustrate that I have a few good characteristics, too, I’ll explore the finer things about yours truly. This should not be so difficult in theory…yet it’s taken me months…

I have the kind of smile that can light up the room. This is not to say that I am preternaturally bright, but that when I’m “on,” I can make anyone in the room feel good. Just because. I don’t need a motivation other than to make someone else’s day. In any given moment, I’m more likely to be smiling (even if only on the inside) than not, and my eyes sparkle.
I am playful and insist on laughing a lot. Life is funny. Or tragic. Either way, you’ve got to have a sense of humor to get through it!
I am content and happy, yet I see and find ways to grow and build on what is already a full and wonderful life.
I am an eternal (and usually pragmatic) optimist. I am, in fact, such an optimist that I constantly overestimate all the fun that can be packed in to a day. (Which unfortunately means that some around me occasionally feel let down. Sorry.)
I am conscious and willing. Why would this be a benefit to a man? Because if, like my last boyfriend, you call me out on a bad behavior, I’m likely to examine deeply what it’s about and consider making changes as appropriate.
I have the courage to admit when I make a mistake. And the decency to apologize.
I have some mechanical abilities, which is to say that I can generally understand how things fit together or work (and am able assemble furniture from IKEA, for example).
I prefer to be loving, to say “yes” more often than “no,” to do what’s right, to be generous, to give and to live passionately. I genuinely care, my experiences to date have earned me a fair amount of resilience and wisdom and, when I hear of couples who have spent literally decades of their lives together, I believe the willingness and ability to enjoy that kind of commitment and intimacy is in me.
Many of my friends have remarked on my ability for absolute acceptance. I can discern what is or is not right for myself while mostly leaving judgment to whatever our higher powers or karma may have in store for our immortal souls.
I enjoy reading and talking about what I read, which I suppose can be described as an intellectual curiosity and willingness to continue to grow and educate myself.
Add to these that I’m not a bad cook, I’m pretty and have a lovely curvy figure, can create a warm and loving home environment, teach my children proper manners and have a fairly decent sense of style.

road trip

This spring, my daughter’s class at school began studying the states. She regularly came home with various new ideas about places she’d like to visit, including Mt. Rushmore. I’ve been to see this presidential monument several times, always while driving through to destinations further west. And, while I knew people vacationed in the Black Hills, I’d thought of it as a “mini” or poor man’s vacation for those who couldn’t afford to fly to warmer destinations over the holidays or spring break or for those who didn’t have the time to go as far as the more obvious destination, Yellowstone. In my mind, it was — like Devil’s Tower — one of the stops along the way when one is going somewhere, just another dot along the “Rubber Tomahawk Circuit.”

So I was wrong folks; I admit it.

School ended on a Tuesday and childcare for the next three days was going to cost me an average of $75 per day…so, I thought, we can’t afford not to go. After all, my children want to. And this is one of the few ways in which I actually believe spoiling them is entirely okay — with experiences, especially those that can be educational.

With only a notion, we packed the car and drove to the Black Hills of South Dakota. The children were spectacular during the long hours in the car, playing games together, reading and (of course) watching movies or playing electronic games. They were patient, cooperative and even the younger one asked for little.

We drove through the old gold mining towns of Deadwood and Lead, then down through Custer National Park and, of course, to the main event — Mt. Rushmore. It was the kind of vacation where I felt as though we spent most of our time driving / in the car. But it was spectacularly memorable. Here are just a few of the highlights:

Needles highway in Custer State Park, where there is beautiful scenery around every switchback and through every one of the tunnels carved through stone.
Having an old-time photo taken…with guns, at a child’s insistence.
Panning for gold.
The pervasive and relaxing scent of pine needles.
The lighting ceremony at Mt. Rushmore — my first time seeing it at night.
Our family’s first alpine slide experience in Keystone — after a grilled cheeseburger at the summit.
Seeing buffalo up close and feeding asses out of the palms of our hands.
A walk along the shore of beautiful Lake Sylvan.
Driving back home, at night, hearing the children talk about how many stars they can see — and then turning on the StarWalk app to learn the names of new constellations.
The children also insisted on seeing Reptile Gardens, on which I could have easily taken a pass, but the alligator show was at least a little amusing.

Things we missed: the hiking, kayaking, rock climbing and other experiences one might enjoy if staying at the park for a longer period of time, the mammoth site / dig further south of Custer (which I’ve heard is fantastic!), caves and horseback rides. In other words, we definitely plan to go back!

The spectacular experience didn’t end with scenery alone: part of the joy of the experience was in realizing that the children have become competent road trippers, and that we can just hop in the car with no reservations and wing it (my favorite way to travel!), and they’ll be fine. Another was realizing that those feelings that came up last trip — about it being “half a vacation” because my children only have half the parents — were no longer a part of the experience. The three of us had a wonderful adventure all our own.

Now, where to go next?!

…until you try

I seem to be a bit of a hot item since going back online (don’t worry — I won’t let it go to my head), and this weekend I went on not one, but two, first dates. Here’s what I have to report:

I wasn’t particularly looking forward to either meeting; I was going out to get in the habit of going out, as I said yesterday. But I managed to have a lot of fun getting to know each of the guys, even if I don’t genuinely believe there’s any real relationship potential with either of them.

My first date, drinks on an outdoor patio, got off to a somewhat slow and awkward start and ended with an even more awkward kiss — the kind of exaggerated, dry pucker you might exchange with a distant grandparent. The intervening 90 minutes or so limped along all right, but I felt as though I were entertaining, rather than it being a mutual exchange. Luckily, I am entirely capable of amusing myself — and others, it would seem. Certainly, I was hoping for someone with a little stronger personality, a little more able to hold his own when seated across from a woman he clearly found attractive. But the true kiss of death was what seemed to be a lack of intellectual curiosity…and his feeble, “Let me know if you want to go out again.”

Probably he was relieved when I sent him a note several hours later letting him know what a pleasure it was to meet a genuine, kind gentleman, but that I just didn’t feel a spark.

For coffee this morning, I met someone who had the personality to stand up to some playful banter. He seemed to have some mature relationship experience, interests of his own and a deep caring for his family. He showed substance, sincerity and kindness. We share some interests in common…yet still lacked the kind of “brain sparks” that will keep me interested in the long run. We’ve agreed to keep in touch, and may go out again with the understanding that it’s not likely to come to anything more than friendship.

I suspected the results of these two dates might be as they turned out, but I went anyway…because you never know until you try.

to shave or not to shave?

I have a date this afternoon. I’m not at all looking forward to it. I am, in fact, stalling when I might be changing my clothes, putting on make-up and other such preparations.

So why am I going?

Because I feel it’s important to shift back in to a more open attitude about meeting new people, benefit in whatever way I can from each interaction with someone new (and by that, I don’t mean a free cocktail), learn about myself and get comfortable enjoying myself interacting with men.

Put another way: I feel as though I am headed in to some sort of self-improvement exercise…and, today, for whatever reason, I am dreading it.

Perhaps it is because there is a question on the online dating site I’m currently using as my “matchmaker” that asks: “Do you think women have an obligation to keep their legs shaved?” and I have a differing view from the fellow I’m meeting today. I’m not sure why this particular issue has me tweaked today — surely issues of politics, religion and values are far more important — but it raises my feminist ire. How dare another say someone has an “obligation” to maintain such a thing. Fact: hair grows. Fact: most people I know describe their lives as “busy.” I simply think it’s fascist to proclaim that another human being should make this a higher priority than, say, …um, well, anything important.

Truth is, I tend to keep my legs shaved (about twice a week) during the summer. My hair is light and no one can tell if I haven’t shaved, unless they get close enough to feel the prickles of tiny hair sprouting. I shave regularly because it is my personal preference to do so, not because I feel “obligated.” In the winter, I sometimes let it go longer. I suspect that just about anyone who’s been married has enjoyed / endured physical closeness with a partner who may not be freshly shaven. That’s a part of what intimacy is about. And adjusting some grooming routines to meet a partner’s desires sometimes is also part of what intimacy is about. What’s more important is how such preferences, desires and behaviors are communicated and shared.

Don’t worry — I will shift my mindset in time to enjoy whatever today’s “date” brings. Curiosity alone is already putting a smile on my face…

But I won’t shave; I did that yesterday.

room for two

It’s been rather vexing lately to wake and find company in my bed: namely, a ten-year-old and her stuffed friend. I was complaining about this trend to my former boyfriend recently, who remarked, “You should enjoy this while you can — it’s not going to last forever.”

True enough. I shall quit my bitching.

And then said he followed up with, “Do you even see yourself ever allowing a man to share your bed?”

I was shocked.

In a word: YES! Good lord, of course I hope to share my bed with some fabulous man — and sooner rather than later. (He should know: many nights I’d shared it with him.)

But it’s not just all about sharing a bed, is it? There’s much more to this love and compatibility and companionship business…which is why I intend to take my time to find the one I’m going to want in my bed for the next half a century or so. Which is longer than I’ve been alive so far and the last guy made twelve years seem like a mighty long time, so it’s a lot to contemplate. (Well, to be fair, only the last few years seemed like the misery would never end.)

At any rate, there is room in my bed for two…and preferably, for someone other than my ten-year-old to poke me in the ribs and tell me to roll over so that I stop snoring. Yes, I welcome it!

online again

So…I went back to online dating. Back, that is, to the freebie, noncommittal site where I’m suspicious about whether I’m wasting my time. The online approach is a needle-in-a-haystack gambit anyway, but I met a few interesting folks last time around, so why not give it a shot?

At least that’s what I was thinking when I clicked “reinstate”…and, despite the fact that several men have contacted me and I have contacted, um, none, I can barely gear up to reply. I’m just not that interested…(or is it that I’m completely self-absorbed?).

Perhaps I’ll give it a couple more weeks of dabbling…yet I’m inclined to think that my life is good: my cup is always overflowing, I’m having a wonderful time with my children and my own interests, and I’m grateful for what I’ve got going on right now as a single, fabulous mama!

wasband fail

I’ve had the kind of morning (on my day off, no less) where the heavens have opened once again illuminating the brightly shining truth that my ex is an even bigger jackass than I thought. I need to vent, and I’m not sure who to turn to but my community here. Thank you in advance.

Eleven years ago, for Mother’s Day, he bought me a motorcycle — a beautiful, used classic bike. Now, I’m no tattoed, leather-wearing woman and I certainly have nothing against those who roll that way…but I was an expectant mother at the time, five months pregnant with our first. I had grown up with minibikes and motorcycles and have a fondness for putting around local streets and the idea of running errands with them — neither speeding down freeways or taking long road trips to Sturgis or other places.

Wasband wouldn’t let me ride the motorcycle because of my pregnancy and because it needed some work. He also failed to bring a title home with him — the seller was going to send it once he found it.

Various times during our marriage, I attempted to get him to have it fixed up — it was always too expensive or something (keep in mind I was the sole earner so, while we had little, I was inclined to think I should get some say in what “too expensive” was).

Finally, I am in a place where I have some free time to ride (every other weekend) and a cash flow that will support something a little beyond the bare necessities, so I’m raring to get this bike fixed, registered, my license, etc. I had planned to go down to the government center and begin the process of forcing the title. But, first, why not call?, I thought.

Then the voice over the phone gave me some very, very bad news. The registration shows up in “the system” from many years ago, so they can’t begin with “no proof of ownership.” Thus, my only hope is to track down the complete stranger from whom my ex bought the bike in order to have the title transferred. Apparently a decade is not enough to force such actions.

The voice ended the call with a cheery “okay?” to which I could only reply, “No, this is not okay.” It’s not okay to receive a gift that is little more than a heap of useless metal taking up space in my garage. I’m sure I could come up with yet another way to make this tale a metaphor for our entire relationship, but…

The day is sunny and I’m in no mood to give up — I’m going to get cute, run down to the government center and see who I can sweet talk in to some leads and options. Wish me luck!