Purposefully Seeking OCD

I’m going to admit something.. you probably already know, but something I’ve kept hidden from myself. Its how I process, I know this.. I just… well.. its hard to see what you’re hiding from yourself, because… well.. you’re hiding it from yourself.

See how that works?

I’ve been trying to re-build my life for years, with the most progress happening this last year since the divorce. I may or may not have had a “breakdown” years ago. Its hard to say, and never was diagnosed. But looking back, I have to wonder.

All I know is that somewhere along the way, I forgot how to be a functional human being. I honestly blame my ex, but in reality I should blame myself. I stayed where I should have fled.

I’m discovering little things on my road back to humanity. I forgot what it was like to take joy in doing something for absolutely no reason other than I wanted to. I forgot what it was like to actually get a real paycheck for real services rendered. I forgot that pride.

People used to call me “Monica”.. remember Monica from friends.. she was OCD, reserved, a great cook. Everything had its place. It drove her crazy when something wasn’t where it belonged.

Thats how I used to be. Seriously. Everything had its place. Somehow during the battle with my ex (who believed that everything went wherever he decided to leave it, and that fairies would move it back to its spot), up until even today, that particular OCD has gone away. (not fully, but for the most part yes.)

I was actually having a conversation with my best friend where she began to talk about how she now has my OCD… well not exactly, she’s much more of a clean-freak than I ever was. I started looking around my apartment and realized that.. I no longer have any of the “functional” parts of my OCD.

Seriously, its like apathy has taken over OCD. Like I am (was) functioning defeated. Like I’d given up.

So I’ve decided that I’m going to get it back. I’m happier with things in their place. I’m happier with a cleaner/neater apartment.

And so, I’ve been slowly digging myself out of this hole I’ve built. I can almost see my dining room table again.

I’m making a new list of “rules” and will be practicing doing them until I get back to where I was… ok maybe not the insane OCD crap.. but functional. Where I can have someone over maybe without saying “Oh, umm.. just close your eyes.”

(Btw, I have managed to rid myself of my “I need this” hoarding OCD, which I am not seeking to take up again. Thanks but that’s one I can do just fine without.)

**** For you that are grossing yourselves out with your imaginations, please understand that my mess is clean mess. I don’t have left over food containers all over, or crumbs everywhere. Its just old things to get rid of, papers to file, clothes to give to goodwill.. and some canned goods to put away.


My Meeting With The Playas

The other night I went out with Evie and a friend of hers. In all honesty, I went for the possibility of meeting someone, yet with the full expectation of being completely bored out of my mind. A group of 3 girls almost always leaves one as the third wheel, and since Evie’s friend and her were childhood friends, I fully expected to be the third wheel.

But I needed to go out, and nothing else that night sounded even remotely entertaining.

We went to a play and then the after-party. It was a small production with a small audience. It was ok. Some of the actors, you could tell were naturally talented and the rest were really trying to be. It was at least entertaining.

Then about 20 minutes from the end, I see Evie’s ex? I guess thats who he is. I can’t remember if they’d had sex or exactly what… But I do know that she’s at least seen his penis, and helped him get off. They’re “friends” now, but with Evie that could be FwB or just platonic friends. Its really hard to say.

Evie can’t go a night without a guy. During the show, she’d texted him to meet her there. So when I saw him come in.. I knew what had happened and I rolled my eyes.

It doesn’t help that I just cannot stand the guy. I avoid him like he’s got cooties. He comes off as needy and desperate. And I’ve got the feeling that any woman will do for him as long as she’s mildly attractive (not hideous), and not illegal. (I guess I should be thankful he has some standards huh?)

Plus.. from Evie, I know WAY more that I ever wanted to about his sexual interests and erm.. proclivities. If I wasn’t interested by the fact that he looks like a doofus, or by the fact that he acts like he’s only out for getting laid and desperately at that, then his sexual preferences alone would have sealed the deal for me that I wasn’t going to touch him with a 10 foot pole.

After the show was over, and while we waited for the after-party to start, I found out that Trey had brought two friends with him.

Techincally he brought one friend, who brought his friend.. but thats just me nitpicking.

So we’re standing around, and these two guys join our group. I of course wonder who they are, and Evie introduces them.

I honestly don’t remember their names. So I’m gunna make up some names.

The first one was chatty, but from the moment he opened his mouth, my lady parts shuddered and recoiled. Jessie’s voice was a little .. umm.. too high and he talked with just a slight lisp. Had he not talked about screwing women, I would have sworn he was gay. He was around my height, but with delicate bone structure. His wrists were even dainty. The thought of him having sex with a woman quite frankly made me giggle… a lot.

He talked as if he was Mr. MacDaddy which wasn’t helping the situation any. Maybe he does get all the girls. Who knows.. I just find it immensely unbelievable. To be honest, I found the idea of him and Trey being secret lovers much much more believable.

The third guy, Bill, was shy and completely did not fit with the other two. He was new to town, so I excused his judgement in friends. He had long hair and was Native American. He actually was kind of sweet, but way too young. That didn’t keep him from attempting to hit on me though. So cute, in an adorable little boy way (I know.. just the way guys hope to be seen right?), but about an hour or so later he admitted his age and he was barely legal. WAY too young for me, and thus I was right in thinking of him as a little boy.

So none of them were at all.. in any way.. potential interests of mine. This actually made the night more fun, because they ALL thought that I’d be happy to have them.

Dear Men… I am not that desperate.. and will never be that desperate.. Sorry.

So the party got started, and people started going back inside. It was hot inside. Like sauna hot. I went in to be social for a bit, but found my way outside rather quickly. The last thing I needed was to be miserable on top of this potential boredom.

A few minutes later, one guy after the other came outside as well. Soon it was myself and the three guys.

We began to talk. Jessie kept giving the youngin’ Bill some MacDaddy advice, which I would then critique and tell him how to do it better. Then Jessie saw that as a sign to out do himself. It became this challenge to show me how much of a MacDaddy he was. I couldn’t have secretly laughed at him more. At one point he said:

“I shouldn’t tell you because you’ll hate me.”

To which I replied, “If I don’t hate you by now, I’m pretty sure there’s nothing you can come up with.”

He stammered and still pretended to be all gentlemanly in refusing to divulge his scoundrel secrets in my presence.

“Ok.. by hate you.. what did you mean by that?”

Jessie turned red, and so I continued…

“If you mean by hate you, that I would no longer want to have sex with you.. let me put your mind at ease.. that ship sailed within the first minutes of meeting you. So just say what you were going to say.”

He looked at me agast, and then did his best to recover. He tried to ask what it was that turned me off, but I simply brushed him off with a “Eh, you’re not my type.” (Rather than telling him that he reminded me of some gay friends from college.) He retorted with a “Oh well at least we’re on the same page.” which made me laugh.

Yes yes… I can be a bitch, but I honestly cared not at all what this guy or his friends thought of me.

So he continues about his rules for “dating” which were quite frankly steps to have a one night stand. He did pretty much every cliche’ without actually mentioning roofies, though he did mention that getting a girl completely plowed so she’d not remember how to get back to his place later. I know.. a charmer. I of course added rules for him, and instead told him that he should just go to her place. No one can say I’m not helpful. 🙂

If I’m not interested in dating you, and I’m pretty sure you’re harmless (or at least that even the smallest woman could kick your ass), I’m more than willing to share my knowledge to help you get laid.. by someone else. 🙂 Its just how I roll.

Bill however was really enjoying the conversation and cursing that he had no way to take notes. The poor guy. In reality all Bill would have to do to get laid is to hang out with these two morons he was with, then go appologize to the girls later and state that he was new to town. He was sweet, honest, and not bad looking.. and following the wake of the other two guys, he’d look like the catch of the day.

Trey however was not liking the conversation. He instead was trying desperately to convince me that his playboy past was over (like I really believed he had a playboy past), and he was now looking for a real relationship. He was not grasping the idea that I could have cared less about what he was looking for.. I was not interested.. yet he continually tried to impress me with his “seeking a relationship” self.

When we began to discuss ages.. Trey started it by saying he was 40 (he looks maybe 34) and how 30 was the new 20 for him. The others also stated their ages, and then came my turn, which I declined. They were 19, 31, and 40.. and I just let them believe whatever age they thought I was. Generally I’m assumed to be in my late 20’s or early 30’s, so I figure they thought I was.

Then Trey began commenting on the music that was wafting outside from the party.

“I used to skate to this back in ’78”

Which we all would tease him about making himself sound ancient. Heck I’m not much younger than him, and even I thought he sounded old the things he was saying.

It was one “I’m old” statement after anouther which kept me entertained by teasing him about how old he was making himself sound and “Thats the way to win the Ladies, man.” sarcasm. I honestly don’t think he understood just exactly how off-putting his “remember when” was, or would be to younger women.. when their parents would be the ones saying those “remember whens”.

We were outside talking for a couple hours before the other two girls came out, and we all parted ways.

All in all it was a good night.. Lots of fun (for me anyway.)

I’m Sooo Tired.. Again.

There are people that can sleep 4-5-6 hrs, Get up and work all day and be fine. There are people that can go a day without sleep, no problem.

Then there are people like me.

Among other things, I must have at minimum 6-8 hrs of sleep to function like a normal person.

Seriously. (and even then normal is questionable)

Yesterday’s battle with staying awake has left me with some major scars.

My elbow is killing me. I have 6 huge welt/bruises on my legs from running into furniture that hasn’t moved in months (normally I negotiate my apartment with ease).

In other words, I am gracefully sexy when sleep deprived.

And yesterday was mild. I’ve been known to take nose dives into cement and fall down stairways.

One of these days I’m actually going to manage to get on the Darwin awards for accidentally off-ing myself.

Right now though I’m pondering if I should try to “patch” the hole in my wall from yesterday’s attempt to stretch unwittingly too close to it. (elbow actually left a major dent in the wall – thus now it hurts)

My talents astound.

Today, so far it looks like it will be similar to yesterday. After falling dead into bed at 8pm, I woke after 4 hours of dead sleep… awake and refreshed.. ready for the day.. at Midnight.

All endless attempts to go back to sleep. Failed.  I think I might have gotten another hour somewhere between 4am-9am. Maybe.

When I finally gave up on getting back to sleep at 10am, I did my normal rolling out of bed only to find myself nearly falling down from dizziness.

Today is really going to be fun. I can just tell.

Tomorrow hopefully, we’ll return to our regularly scheduled programming of my dating views, foibles, and eccentricities.

I’m Sooo Tired

I’ve been awake for 20 straight hours now. I’ve drank 2 pots of coffee and nearly 3/4 of a 2 liter of KFP Coke.. where I normally have no caffeine. Actually, I avoid coffee normally because it keeps me so wired that I won’t sleep even if I just have a cup for breakfast. Its one of those last resort.. must stay awake.. thangs.

Why am I torturing myself you ask?

Because somehow my sleep schedule got all screwed up. Seriously screwed. The week before this past week, I was sleeping til noon and wanted to correct that. My attempt to “solve” that problem backfired into me only being tired from 7am til 5pm, aka normal peoples worktime.  So I tried to correct that by taking a short nap around 10am (10-3pm or something) and each time ended up sleeping through all my alarms until 6pm or so.

The final straw was yesterday. I wanted to go out last night.  I had plans.  In an effort to not be dead tired with bags under my eyes, I again attempted to take a short afternoon nap.  This time I set 5 alarms to wake me up.  I woke up instead at 7:30 p.m., a half hour past when I was suppose to meet up with friends.

Not only was I “late” but I was groggy and unshowered. By the time I corrected those, I’d have missed the entire thing.

So.. pissed as I was (am?), I decided to stay up until “nightime” tonight no matter what, in hopes that it will finally correct this issue and get me back on a normal person’s sleep schedule instead of Vampira’s.

I seriously look like the walking dead right now btw. I’m paler than any brunette white chick should ever be. I’ve got huge dark circles. My fingers are shaking a bit from all the coffee. But I’m awake damn it!

On a good note, I spent all night last night doing laundry, sorting through crap I’ve been putting off, organizing stuff to give away, reading junkmail, cooking, cleaning the kitchen, and finding unspeakably large fur-bunnies under the couch. (I’m getting tempted to shave my dog bare since she sheds so much.)

Today, I ran errands, picked up some vitamins, took my time browsing some grocery stores I rarely make time to visit, took the dog for a walk… anything to keep moving.

4 hours.. only four more hours..  I can do it.. I can do it.. Then I can have a social life again.. just 4 more hours..

God I’m so tired.

Bring On The Booze

I’m searching for titles for this post.

“Worst Christmas Ever”

“Missed Christmas This Year”

“I almost died on Christmas”

“Where is Santa Claus when you need him?”

As I was driving up north to visit family, I found myself caught in a blizzard. After praising myself for having mad snow driving skills, which is surprising because my ex never thought I did. He was from Norway, and thus had far greater driving skills than me. So he said.

So after giving myself kudos for proving him wrong. Asshole. I began to realize that I wasn’t going to make it anywhere that night.

Christmas Eve stuck in a snowstorm. Scared, and with the way it was coming down in an area of the US where most people don’t see snow and don’t know how to drive on it. My chances of survival without wrecking the car, or having someone wreck into me, suddenly got a lot smaller. I was alone with my dog. What hotel was going to allow her in?

I began to think about last Christmas. Last Christmas, I had thought was the worst Christmas ever. My ex had just left me, and refused me any kind of contact. I got no explanation no closure. The Christmas in Norway trip we’d planned (because he wanted to spend Christmas with his family, and didn’t want me to be alone -his exact words) suddenly was cancelled for me. I had no plans for Christmas, and knew no one to spend it with. I couldn’t think of a worse Christmas scenario.

Now this one was rivaling it. Toe to Toe.

The storm took most of my concentration so I couldn’t break down as much as I wanted to.. as much as I longed to.. I couldn’t give in to the despair.

So I drove carefully, cautiously, and hoped like hell everything would turn out fine. I traveled a whole 162.3 miles in 10 hours in a complete blizzard. I only know this because of my trip meter on my car from the last place I filled up gas, and the last place I went to the bathroom before driving into the storm. 10 hours stuck freezing on the road, literally without a pot to piss in.

Approximately 4.5 of these hours I was not moving at all. No one was. Thankfully I had 3G service in the area and my phone charger. So I twittered, read emails, played some games and begged strangers to call me. My parents called gave me weather updates and found a hotel for me & the dog (now only to get there), my best friend would call and give me more weather. And @NJTunaFisherman called and like the awesome man he is, talked to me until his phone battery died. @HarryLang, @Myerman, @AustinDirtyDog, and @BrunoBulldogRVA twittered with me, making sure I was ok, and helped me keep my sanity.

I forced myself to stay strong, and thought of ways things could be better. If I’d had a hot man with me, we could have spent those 4 hours doing untold things. I dreamt about those things, and the hotel, and well.. lots of things.

There was no real need to panic. Other than the lack of toilet, I could survive in my car for days if it didn’t get too cold. I always take my own bedding if I can, so I had a pillow and a comforter in the car. Several changes of clothes, two coats, @MissMelisaMae’s fabulously warm scarf, gloves, a scraper, about a weeks worth of safe food (I had brought things to share with family).  I was lowish on water but had a half gallon in the trunk (in my brita filter pitcher) if it didn’t freeze, a gallon of apple juice, some berry juice, two liters of KFP coke, as well as lunch meat, crackers, nuts, and strawberries in my snackbag. I even had a couple rolls of toilet paper if I needed it. The only things I didn’t have that I might need were window washer fluid with antifreeze in it, an endless supply of gas (I had enough but not for overnight), some gravel, and a shovel.

Still even with all that, I wanted to be comforted. I wanted to know I’d make it to my hotel. I wanted some real hope of Christmas. I hung on to that remaining sliver.

After finally making it to my hotel at 2am, and winding down to sleep at 3am, my dog decided to bark at every noise outside our door from 6am on. Tired and groggy, I attempted to sleep through it with no success.  At 10am, my parents called and said it was now blizzarding in the north. I wouldn’t be able to make it there today. Stay another night, or go home?

The online road conditions made everything sound horrid. Travel everywhere was discouraged. I thought I was stuck again.  So I called the front desk, he said people were moving at a good pace along the highway.  So I called Fred in Dallas, and asked about the road conditions there. (Online it said all of Dallas was icy) He said there was a little slush but it was ok.

I decided to go home. It cost me a little over a tank and half ($30) in gas to get there which was less than half the price of my hotel. Much cheaper to go home and try another day. Plus home has my bed, my internet, my tv.

I made it home in 6.5 hours… a distance that yesterday had taken 13 hours. Unloaded the car, and sat down and watched my Netflix movies, and ate my holiday food stash. After the last 29 hours, 20 of which I was stuck in my car, I was not getting back in my car any time soon, but I was ready to party.  So I had my own little celebration. Chilling on my couch with the dog.

My parents called and gave me weather updates. The storm was bad enough that even on the 26th the roads weren’t clear enough up there for my family to gather for Christmas. It comforted me somewhat that not only did I miss Christmas, but most of my family had as well.  And it was more evidence that I made a good choice to just come home.

Then my parents called again to inform me that everyone would be gathering for Christmas on New Years, at my sisters home. So it’d be an 18 hour drive. 13 is my max of what I can do in a day, so there’d be extra hotel both ways. $$$ plus then I’d end up missing NYE.

So.. I had to choose. Another huge car trip and more costs to have Christmas with family (and miss NYE)… or go out an party with friends and possibly meet a cute guy and have a great New Years Eve.

I’d already mourned the loss of Christmas already and the thought of a road trip nearly gives me hives right now.. heck I’m adverse to the thought of driving almost everywhere right now.. So I’m staying put.

Bring on the BOOZE!

Somethings Are Better Left Alone

I got a call yesterday from an old friend. You could I suppose call him a “non-date dating” friend, or a backup boyfriend… or .. well a lot of things. Technically he’s an ex-boyfriend, but our actual dating was so brief it hardly requires mentioning.


I hadn’t heard from him in months. Many many months.  Actually the last time we’d talked I was still in the process of divorce, and had just recently began speaking again.


We didn’t stop talking just because I got married, though it had a part in it. It’s more that he has always been my achilles heel, and yet I know if I really needed anything he’d bend over backward to help.  But let me explain.


We’d been friends and online pals for years. We ran in the same online social circle, and had many people in common.  He was strong and demanding, yet sweet and loving.. A lion, yet a teddybear.  I fell in deep like.  I loved being around him. But since he’d never seemed to return more than a friends-vibe, I did nothing about it.


We would flirt all the time.  We’d joke. We’d talk. He became my advisor, and he was one of the very few men in our circle that never made me his advisor.  I felt safe and comfortable with him, like nothing could ever hurt me. He wouldn’t let it.


At the same time though, he would admonish me on my faults. Point out things I needed to work on. At the time, I believed him. I trusted him. I loved him.  In many ways he was right, but he also put me in a constant state of adoring him and feeling unworthy to do so.  He preyed on my weakness of giving, and gave just enough to convince me to give more.


Then we dated. I was single, and suddenly he was single at the same time.  I’d just gotten out of a very traumatic breakup, and with his manipulations, he was the only man for me.  I fell very deep in love, need, and want with him.  We lasted two weeks, from first kiss to last.  Just long enough for us to have sex, then he disappeared and wouldn’t return my calls.


To say I was devastated would be kind.


It was just over 3 yrs before Luke resurfaced. I’d just gotten married the year before, and thought it hilarious that now that I was married Luke would show up. I called him many names in my mind, but he didn’t know, until I told him, that I was married.


He’d wished me much happiness and apologized for hurting me. He had gotten back together with his ex and didn’t have the balls to tell me.  I told him he was the biggest asshole ever, and hung up.  But he called back, and soon I was under his spell again.  My marriage was not going well, and I should have gotten out back then, but I didn’t.


He counseled me on my marriage, on what to do, what not to do.. what I needed to improve in myself.  He left me in knots so big that a friend of mine insisted that I stop talking to him. I didn’t right away, but a week later when the same friend said “Stop talking to him, or stop talking to me.”  I stopped all contact with Luke.


I’d never done anything like that before. It wouldn’t have even dawned on me to shut out a friend.  It was one of the best things I’ve ever done, and my friend who “made” me do it is one of the best friends I’ve ever had.


About 3 months later, I snuck in a conversation, and saw for myself just how controlling Luke was. Then I didn’t speak to, look at, hear from, or even read an email about Luke for 4 yrs. Then my ex-husband walked out, and I called everyone of my contacts looking for solace. I called Luke.


His voice was the same. His laugh was the same. But there was something fundamentally different. He wasn’t trying to control me.  Not even an ounce of it. The conversation was peaceful, uplifting, and friendly.  It was my old friend without the torture. It was amazing.


We talked again a few months later.  Then again yesterday.  He really is now the man that I delusionally thought he was back then.  It was good see him change.


But I’m a different me now as well.  I’m no longer the massive people pleaser that I once was. I’m not the weak desperate tortured soul either. I’m no longer the masochist for love that I used to be. While I’ve always been independent, I’ve never been this independent of mind.  Its a good feeling. A good growth.


In some ways, its tempting to pursue something with Luke now that he’s the man he is today.  But my mind still remembers the man that he was, the man he’s still capable of reverting to.. and I keep my distance.  A few thousand miles also helps.

Honesty And There’s Honesty

I have to thank “True Heart in Jersey” for today’s post.  While not directly her fault, she did recommend the site on which I found this lovely profile. She’d claimed that the men on these sites in her area were undesirable, but I think this one might take the cake.

I was searching through one of her posted pet sites and saw a profile of a decent looking male advertising that he liked BBWs.  My curiosity got the better of me and so I checked out his profile.

First he admits that he just got out of a bad relationship with a BBW and is now looking for a different partner.

Woo Hooo… Damaged and honest about it.. sign me up!

Now I do have to give him some credit for staying with this person for 3 yrs despite no sexual contact for 1.5 yrs right? Yes? No? (Are you scared yet?)

He just moved here and is staying with family where he feels “safe” (seriously a direct quote).

What the hell did she do to him?  Just how damaged is he if he had to move in with family to feel safe?

He continues that he’s looking for a woman who wants a partner that isn’t afraid of work. (Come on.. what woman doesn’t love a working man? Or is he wanting a woman that isn’t afraid of work?)… and that she would like for him to move in with her to get to know each other on a first hand basis.

WOOOOOOOAH DAWGIES…  Big Red Flashing Warning Signs.

But sadly… I’m not done.. nor is he..

He continues to state that he wants to get away from his family (wait, I thought he was safe there?) and out on his own, but there are no jobs in his area.

He ends with “Interested? My tongue is pierced and I love to give oral as well as receive.”

Wow.. There is some honesty.  Gotta give him some points for that.  He also gets extra bonus points for the flashing neon red warning signs.

If only ruling out unsuitables was always this painlessly easy. Sheesh.

More To Love

I started watching “More To Love”.  I don’t normally go for the “reality” television, and usually avoid anything to do with “bachelors” or “bachelorettes”, but my curiosity about “More To Love” got the better of me and I started watching it.

I really wanted to see just how bad they were going to do it.  I feared huge segments on the girls eating habits, or that the guy in question would be a jerk, or something horrid.  But so far I’m mildly surprised.

The bachelor seems to be extremely nice and sensitive to a fat woman’s feelings and plight… sometimes a little too much so.. like he’s a player almost.. but at least he’s giving most of these women something they’ve not had in a long long time.. Hope.

A friend of mine stopped watching the show because they were portraying the women as catty and she thought fat women shouldn’t be catty.  For the most part, they seem normal to me.  Not overly catty, but just a little bit.  Sure there are a few women on the show that are major catty, and one is a woman that the bachelor is interested in. (Seriously guy? I understand the attraction of having someone fighting for you, but do you really want to be with someone with that kind of moral fiber – or lack of it?)

There is a different mindset among fat people on attractiveness when it comes to dating.  Most of it based in their own insecurities, but you can’t blame them for it.  Well actually most of the “never been fat” judgy people might blame them, but its not their fault, at least not totally.

There aren’t a whole lot of people able to date fat people and be normal about it.  Normally when you date someone, you want to show them off, have them meet your friends, brag about them, and be with them constantly.  Very few fat women ever experience this, fat men experience this more than fat women.  Most people have friends who bear hatred for fat people, and a lot of people are chicken to stand up and say “Yes I like this” among a crowd of people that feel differently.

So when fat people date, often they experience “lets stay in”, or “You wouldn’t like my friends”, or “I’m really just a homebody” from the people they date.  When they do go out, if their date is really secure they might experience some handholding or looped arms… but usually that is reserved for places where they know none of their friends are.  Or sometimes, if the fat person is unlucky enough to date someone truly pervy, their date may do a lot of PDA in the light of “Hey look what this chick will let me do to her in public.”

So I love the show in the way that they bring this plight to life, but I don’t know yet if the message is getting across to those who’ve never truly experienced fat, or if its just coming off as pathetic and whiny.

I will say that I’m half-in-love with the “More to Love” bachelor myself, though there is one big thing holding me back. He said on one episode “Why have a 6-pack when I can have the whole keg?” as his philosophy.  This is one of the reasons that many fat women despise chubby-chasers (and why skinny women tend to avoid those guys that insist on women being skinny).  We all just want to be happy at whatever size we happen to be at.. we should be prized for who we are not what we weight.  It shouldn’t be our goal to be fat nor to be ultra-skinny.

It should however be a goal to be healthy and happy with whatever turns life takes, and strive to be the best at whatever lies before us.  If that means we lose 50lbs or gain 50lbs, so be it.  As someone who has experienced the skinny life as well as the fat life, I know full well that not everything is under your control.  As long as your healthy and happy, who cares.  Life happens.

Communication: An Essential for Online Dating

On Friday night, about 3 am, I received a message on Facebook from a man not of my acquaintance, which in itself is not completely unusual.  I am rather attractive, and I have a quite common “look” that I’m often mistaken for someone else, but thats another story for another time.  I also, a long long time ago, joined an application on Facebook (FB) for dating called “Are You Interested?” and have occasionally received friend requests or messages from men finding me through that application.  So the mere contact of a strange man was not foreign to me.

What was strange to me was his method of approach. He merely said in his FB email..

“are you there?”

Rather ominous from a strange man.  I clicked his profile, and found nothing of any interest except that his network was Ontario, Canada which I live no where near.  I jogged my brain to figure out who this was.  Surely with such a brief question, I must know him from somewhere, so I replied.

“maybe? who are you?”

He then replied with a much larger email.

“Hi Beautiful,

Let me start with I’m so happy and glad to hear back from you, and I should also thank you for taking your convenience time to write me, it’s really a pleasure for that.

I am Divorced and a father of 1 boy he is 14years old. Her mum died when she was 3yrs old. I Have been dealing with the loneliness while taking good care of my son all together, though it has not been easy for me to take 3 scheduled steps at a time, but I really have to. it’s my own duty, and I should also count my son as my #1 priority in life. I hope you know what kids means to parents.can we chat on yahoo messenger id?(his yahoo id),i will be waiting for reply.”

Whoa dawgies. Ok, let me read this again. Sentence 1, he has a boy.  Sentence 2, her mum? Wtf?  What 3 steps? What in the hell is he talking about?

In an attempt to clarify, I wrote back.

“ok.. umm.. you didn’t really say who you were. Or maybe I should ask, why you’re msging me? or how you found me?

You also seem a little confused on the sex of your own child.”

He replied,

“I was looking for a woman to spend the rest of my life with,and when i saw you i decided to mail you and the sex of my child is boy..”

Well why in the hell didn’t you just say so in the first place!! Sheesh.  Still no clarification of how he found me, but I decided to let it go.

“ah.. ok.. I assume then you found me though “Are you interested?”

So you’re divorced? How long divorced? And what did you mean by 3 scheduled steps?”

I wanted to see just how fresh his divorce was, and hoping that I could get some relatively straight answers from him.

He replied, “i lost my wife 10yrs ago and i need some else now because of my boy,i will appreciate if we can work thing out.”

Boggle. Either the man has horrid luck by getting a divorce from his wife and the mother of his child dying at the same time.. or its one person and he got a divorce and then she died.. or she died, and he recently got a divorce from someone else which he’s not mentioning.  Or maybe in Whackoville, Ontario, Canada, widower and divorcee are the same thing?

He still hadn’t answered what in the hell the 3 steps were, but it didn’t really matter.  “i need someone now because of my boy” was entirely enough to stop all contact.  I’m not sure what his boy has to do with him needing to find a wife now, and I’m not sure I want to know.  I assume he wanted a “mother” for his child, or a live-in nanny he could screw.

I’d rather a have a man who wanted me for me, for him.

It’s All Mine.

I am shopping for a new bed.  I am single. I have some money of my own. I don’t need to ask permission or input from anyone.

Now, while I know that, I keep finding myself asking around “Which do you like better?”

These old habits are hard to break.  Throughout the years, from my mother, to my sisters, to friends, to boyfriends, to a husband, I’ve always taken everyone’s opinion, thoughts, emotions, etc. into account when doing anything (well almost anything).  So much so, that by the time I reached 30, I wasn’t really sure what it was I really liked myself.

I called it being considerate. You may call it being a doormat, though I’ve never been a “yes man” in my life. I’ve just always tried to make sure everyone was happy, and that I could live with it.

Now that I’m older and single, I find I keep having to remind myself that this is my decision and I get to pick what I like.

I keep stopping myself from emailing the men in my life right now to ask about their preferences.  None of them are serious yet.  Some of them will never actually be in the bed, or in my apt for that matter.  A few may make it into the bed with me, a couple have potential to be lifelong partners and so may end up spending their lives in the bed… but thats all maybes and could-bes.

What I know for sure is that I’m going to be sleeping in the bed.  I can’t guarantee anyone else is, and I can’t guarantee who would be with me, or what their tastes may be.  So if I want pink frills, bright colors, or a bed reminiscent of a whale, then I can do it.

This is my first real big “ME” purchase, and while it feels good, it’s also very agonizing. Its all my choice, my desire, my want.. but its also all my fault if it goes bad.

This really will be MINE.

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