I Think I'm Ready to Try This!

No--not the dating thing. Wait for it. The blog thing. I started writing over a year ago. People say what I say makes them laugh. So I started writing about my life "offline"--and just got the nerve to go "online." So what if no one reads it? I've handled so much rejection over the past few years--what's a little more? I'm a pro at it. But not at dating. (don't you love my transitions?)

The date. It felt good to go out. I'll admit. That was part of the relationship I loved. Going out. As opposed to NOT going out. Which is what I'm doing a lot of lately. Just not sure there's a love connection. He was nice enough. But he hunts. I don't hunt. Or like hunting. Or guns. The Ex aka: Mr. PP used to shoot squirrels in the back yard. I LOVE squirrels. Why would anyone want to harm them? I get they harm your tomatoes. Same with ducks. Date guy shoots ducks. And apparently gets hotel rooms on first dates.

How would you respond to that? Having dinner in a nice hotel restaurant--dude lives an hour away--when you turn to that part of the dry-date conversation about "it's getting late"...and he says "well I didn't want to drink and drive so I got a hotel room."

And this is why I hate dating. What could I possibly say, that won't make me sound like a prude or a slut? I ignored it. Went home and put on "the ring." Cried for a few minutes. Swore at the ex for MAKING me date again. Then watched Oprah on my TiVo and texted the exted. (sounded better)

I'm not necessarily sure I miss my relationship with my ex, as much as I miss my friendship with him. I'll get back into dating--maybe--but what is it about men that allows them to move on so quickly--they don't miss anything. Especially the friendship? If you're friends with your Ex--I wanna know. Please let me know there ARE people out there who do it. (and they're not named Harry and Sally) It seems like if there was no cheating, lying, stealing or forced weight loss that went on--you should be able to be evolved enough to talk friendly with your ex every now and again?

Nope. Not with double-P. I've always been a person who has no trouble making friends. I love my friends. Friends get you through the hard times. But what's so different about THESE friends? I know. The sex. yeah, yeah, yeah. And no. I don't buy it.

Surprisingly enough--I got another invitation to go on a date that day--at work. Only this one was a set-up. I'm trying to say "yes" to everything these days--in an effort to move on myself. So I agreed to the blind date. I thought--something good must be going on--or the earth has shifted. I never have two dates in one week. But blind dates scare me and scar me more than most. I get why they're called "blind dates"--but people...I can still see.

On Dating and Dyed Hair

So is it a sign you’re middle aged if you are more interested in protecting the 100 buck dye job you got yesterday, than washing your hair for a first date? Or maybe a sign you’re not ready to date? I should be. It’s been, I dunno, like a year and a half since my last date? Sad, and even sadder I’m admitting it here. But it’s the truth.

Which is why I can’t say no. I’m in danger of that whole 47 with 14 cats thing. Seriously. I check my email everyday to see when my new boyfriend Netflix will arrive. Popcorn, wine and Netflix. I can handle that. I don’t even know how to handle myself on a date anymore. As I tried to make the flat, lifeless, but rich- in-color hair look better, I told myself over and over…be kind…be gentle…it’s not this guy’s fault you feel like a fat loser b/c Mr. PP dumped you. (Mr. PP—er Pee-Pee is what my adorable niece Maia dubbed the ex. She loved him too.) I hate dating. I met PP on a whim. He popped up at a concert inquiring about my backstage pass. It wasn’t like dating. Or at least it didn’t feel that way.

But tonight--I can already feel the monster rising. My last correspondence to this nice man was “well a girl’s gotta eat?” What kind of response to an invitation to dinner is that? Sadly…the guy doesn’t stand a chance. Even on the first date. If you don’t stand a chance on the first date, then when do you? Negative one date? (that would be the phone call I guess.) I mean—I didn’t wash my hair. Ladies…when have you ever—EVER gone on a date and not washed your hair? And…even worse. I covered them up. Yep. Wore a turtleneck sweater. Covered. Them. Up.

Signs! The Signs! Not ready! Abort! Abort! But I want to be ready. I’ve been alone long enough. I didn’t wear the ring he gave me—that’s a step in the right direction right? I’m trying to “be friends” with the ring. I like the ring. It’s my birthstone. So what he put it on my left hand and I cried when he gave it to me in front of the fireplace at Christmas? And Scene.

Being friends with the ex’s jewelry is much easier than being friends with the ex. I tried this recently. But we’ll leave that for next time, because now I’m in danger of being late for the date. Sign? Discuss amongst yourselves. Wish me luck.

Where do I begin?

 No, really, "you can't make this shit up." I find myself saying that way too often.

For as long as I can remember, my life has sort of a "from my mouth to god/buddah's ears" sort of quality to it. Now, If you read that Oprah book--you'll probably call it some kind of weird, cosmic Secret. That I'm "willing" it to happen. Or somehow bringing every little coincidence upon myself. I beg to differ. Actually--no, I don't need to beg. I just differ.

Mostly--I laugh at it. Secretly--some of it hurts. But I've learned in my 47th year--(what?) that if you don't laugh at it...you need to write about it-- so someone else will laugh. Plus, my family is sick of it. So--let's start. All of these events are true and factual--and primarily happened over the past four years--when finally--after years of moving for jobs--and putting the career first...I decided to move for a boy...and put ME first. (you can tell where this is headed.)

The way it started... was complete synchronicity...Trust me, you just can't make this shit up. I mean, why else would you move to Sacramento?