Dating in a Small Town

It's no surprise that I love country music, however it wasn't until recently that I realized that my suburban New Jersey life could actually relate to it.  Although I don't have a dog that ran away or a truck that broke down, I do live in a small town and Miranda Lambert's "Famous in a Small Town" has described how I feel about living here lately.

I live in a small town.  Specifically, there are 8,165 people in my town.  61% are single.  The female to male ratio is 10:8 and 30% of people are between 25 and 44.  There are 313 people per square mile. I'm a lawyer, you do the math because I can't.

My town is a great place with access to walking trails, a CVS, Starbucks, a local supermarket and plenty of single educated men.  While I know that there are of other towns with eligible bachelors, I prefer to date close to home because I'm lazy, gas is expensive, and I live in cluster of neighborhoods that is filled with divorced men. I can afford to date within a 2 mile radius...or so I thought.

As I mentioned, there's a supermarket within walking distance to my house.  I go in there so often that I have made friends with one of the guys who works at the deli.  He even reads my blog, or at least he claims to, presumably in an effort to impress me and get me to go out with him (hi, Mike, thanks for reading but it's still not happening).  Deli guys notwithstanding, I've seen some good looking men walk into the supermarket on occasion and recently joked to a friend that I should hang out at the supermarket to meet men.  That's the thing about jokes, they sometimes come back to bite you in the ass...


So I got an email last week from a man on Match.com who works for the corporate part of the local supermarket.  I mentioned I shop there and am friends with deli guy.  Right away he knows who I'm referring to (apparently Mike flirts with all of the customers and I'm not that special after all) so I did some recon and asked my favorite meat slicer about the Match.com guy.  After things checked out and the deli guy confirmed that the Match guy wasn't a known serial killer, I scheduled a phone call with him.

Within the first two minutes, Match guy tells me that he got a call from the manager of my specific store  earlier that day.  The manager called and said, "Oh, I heard you're going out with Emily, I know her and her mom! How great is this?! (yadda yadda yadda)" Apparently my conversation with the deli guy about the Match guy turned into the hot topic over the prepared foods counter and rumor spread amongst the supermarket employees that Match.com guy were dating, nevermind the fact that we hadn't even met. 

As it turns out, the conversation with Match.com guy was nice but not that great.  We had little in common and I didn't think our connection on the phone was enough to warrant an in person date.  No harm no foul, right?  Wrong.  

I went into the supermarket the next day.  As I walked past the deli counter, I felt all eyes on me. I turned around to see them talking and gesturing toward me. Not that I'm not a head turner, but these hoagie slingers weren't just checking me out.  It was the kind of, "Oh yeah, there's that girl who Mike said is dating the corporate guy".  Awesome. (sarcasm font)

I quickly got my essentials and proceeded to the checkout, all the while bitching on the phone to my mother that this town is too small and my frustration with the awkwardness of my shopping experience.  I can't even go to the freaking supermarket without wondering if I'm going to be the subject of the manager's phone call (which by the way, I'm totally still contemplating complaining about because really, how professional is that?!).  I felt like a celebrity, just without all the money and paparazzi and more of the gossip.  As usual, my mother tells me I'm overreacting, there are plenty of men in this town and it's a silly coincidence.  I rolled my eyes at her through the phone and say goodbye.  

As I hungup and collected my groceries, I turned around to see E, a guy I dated back in September, standing there with his kids, waving at me.  Miranda Lambert is right, everybody is famous in a small town.

My Date With a Gay Man

Last Wednesday I went out with a man who had great potential.  He was divorced with one kid, according to his Match profile, and working for a great company, as he had explained in our emails.  He grew up in the country, works in the city and loves to hunt.  His family ancestry isn't Italian (hard to come by in New Jersey) so I knew I didn't have a fist pumping guido on my hands.  He was tall and cute with nerdy hipster glasses and I was psyched!

We were meeting for dinner so I had on one of my fabulously casual yet sexy blouses that looks like it's from anywhere other than Old Navy.  I got there on time and received a text that he was running a few minutes late but would be the man in the green jacket.  Considering I had "met" him on Match and already knew what he looked like, I found this fashion information to be a bit gratuitous but patiently waited for my green-swathed date to arrive.

I saw him walking up to the place.  He was as tall and cute as his pictures suggested and wearing hunter-hued outerwear.  I was so excited until he threw his arms out, squealed "Hey--eyy!" and wrapped me in a bear hug.  It was at that point that my brain switched into overdrive.  I must have blacked out under a frenzied inner monologue to the tune of, "OMG-WTF-are-you-doing-you're-on-a-date-with-a-flaming-homosexual (not that there's anything wrong with that) but-OMG-how-does-this-man-not-know-he's-GAY?!" because the next thing I know, we were sitting at a table with menus in front of us and I had an awkward smile plastered over my face like an idiot.

Doing my best not to overreact, we ordered drinks and exchanged the usual first date pleasantries.  I got to hear about his job, his previous job working with recording artists (including some country A-listers) and about his time in the Army (don't ask, don't tell, anyone?).  I started to think that maybe I had overreacted.  Perhaps this is what New Jersey country boys sound like...and then he complimented me on my Cartier watch.  He spent a good chunk of time talking about fashion and clothes and how much he loved to shop. I became increasingly aware of the fact that I was wearing a top from Old Navy and quickly changed the subject.

I moved onto talking about divorce and since he had not broached the subject, I brought up his child.  His Match profile stated that he had one child who lived away from home so I wanted to get the scoop. As it turned out, he not only fathered one child, but THREE children with his ex-wife!  So much for honesty.  To add insult to injury, he was also married when he was 19 and fathered a child with that woman as well.  Technically, that child lives away from home (because he's in COLLEGE!) so I guess his profile wasn't completely misleading.

Throughout the dinner I found myself so flabbergasted that I was on a date with a man, twice divorced, with 4 children and a voice that could only be described as FAB-u-lous! Aside from the lying bit, I had a great time with him once I got over the fact that he was discussing guns and hunting in an effeminate lilt.  It was sad to me though that after two marriages and four children, he still wasn't true to himself.  Perhaps I'm wrong and he just happens to sound like the Honey Badger narrator while really loving vagina, but this Badger don't care.  Gay or not, I don't date liars.

Warning: Explicit language!

Thunder Thighs

Months ago I posted here about why I don't date men in their 20's.  Cliffs Notes: They're immature and I can't be bothered.  However, being the first person to admit that I break my own rules, I recently went out with a 28 year old from Plenty of Fish, who for the purposes of this post, I will call "28".  I decided to give him a shot because he was a nice homeowner with a great job and seemed to have his act together.  That was a mistake.

I should have realized that 28 and I weren't going to be a good fit when he jokingly called his hands his "paws" on our first date.  He said that although they weren't very large, they were rough like paws, hence the moniker.  They were quite calloused, sure, but I didn't think that he was so serious about his physique.

Aside from the comments about his hands, 28 had a penchant for making ridiculously cheesy jokes.  Although I can appreciate someone being their own brand of weird and expressing themselves, I just about died on our third (and final) date when he burst into a round of "gun" jokes that referenced his arm muscles, which, weren't even that big.

28: "Do you have a BandAid?"
Me: "Let me check, why, what's wrong?"
28: "Because I'm cut" ::flexes arm muscles

28: "Do you have any tape?"
Me: "Umm, no, why?"
28: "Because I'm ripped!" ::flexes muscles again::

Almost as big of a douche as Ryan Lochte

As though arm muscle jokes weren't bad enough, he topped off our third date by (jokingly?) calling me Thunder Thighs.  I don't care how close you are to a woman, but the words Thunder Thighs should never, ever ever ever EVER be uttered in their presence.  For some reason he seemed unaware of that fact that this was an insult and got annoyed that I took offense to his comment.  When I told him that his comment upset me, I complained that I was "ruining the day".  The last man who told me I ruined the day with my (justified) feelings is twice-divorced (only once by me) and still eating cereal for dinner every night.

Dating 28 wasn't a total loss though.  In addition to the Home Depot coupon for 10% off a $200 purchase that he brought me for the light fixture I've been eyeing, I ended the weekend with two kick ass jack o'lanterns, a huge batch of apple crisp and roasted pumpkin seeds from our apple and pumpkin picking date yesterday.

28 might have been a douchebag, but Thunder Thighs came out on top!

Happy Divorce Anniversary to Me!

Today marks a year to the day when I walked up to the courthouse flanked by my supportive parents to officially end my marriage.  The first time I had faced my ex-husband since I had sprung a divorce on him like a trip to Disney World (sure honey, I'll come over at 8. ::ding dong, process server!::).  I remember that day like it was both yesterday and a lifetime ago.

I remember agonizing over what to wear to the courthouse, as I wanted to look fabulous but professional the last time I saw the man I was divorcing, lest he forget what a fine piece of ass an amazing woman, 11 years his junior, he was losing.  My parents told me he had worn the cuff links from our wedding (nice touch) when he came to talk to them and ask them to ask me to reconsider my decision (really now?).  Those cuff links that less than two years earlier had received a marital blessing were now witnessing my mother's infamous "Screw You" speech, calm and nonthreatening with just the right amount of Jewish guilt.

It took all of my self control not to scoff at the judge when he asked whether there was any hope for reconciliation and then let out a "Woohooooo!" when he announced we were officially divorced.  My mother and I celebrated with sangria, courtesy of my amazing attorneys and, later that night, we commemorated the event with members of our golf club over Blow job Shots.  Note: The proper way to announce that you're doing morally questionable shooters in a country club is not to announce, "I'm doing blow jobs tonight!" 

Blow job Shot, no hands necessary

A year ago, people told me that trite adage, "This is the first day of the rest of your life!" that you hear at every momentous occasion.  Between 3 graduations, a wedding, a GTFO (Get the Eff Out) day and a divorce day, I ought to have relived my the first day of my life more times than a cat.  But this time it was true.  Something was different, and it wasn't just my ability to have a good sex life.

Over the past year I lost 182 pounds of baggage (plus 10 of my own, thankyouverymuch) and I've gained back my identity.  As it turns out, there was a pretty fabulous woman lurking under the shadow of her husband!  I became a woman who knows no bounds, who isn't afraid to speak her mind (anonymously and in vague terms) and who knows that she deserves so much better than what she settled for.  Thanks to the support of my family and friends, I have an amazing life with so much ahead of me.

Happy Divorce Anniversary to Me!

Best. Date. Ever. (Kidding) aka The Night I Ditched My Date for Another Dude at the Bar

Several months ago I went on a date with a man who was separated at the time and going through the divorce process.  Although I was breaking my "No dating men who aren't yet divorced" rule, he said they had been separated for a while and were just working out the legal kinks of their custody order.  Having experienced the hassle of legal kinkery (no, not that kind), I threw caution to the wind and agreed to meet him.

He told me he would be coming from court, as he and his soon-to-be-ex-wife would be duking it out over their kids that day.  Awesome.  Putting my better judgment aside, I showed up and hoped that he would be in a good mood, as meeting someone after an appearance in Family Court is like playing a game of Russian Roulette.  When I showed up, he was sitting at the bar, halfway through his vodka rocks.  This is the point when I should have realized that I was dealing with a nightmare and bolted.

Instead, I politely asked how his day was, expecting him to give a reciprocal polite but vague answer then move on to more appropriate first date topics like politics, religion, abortion, or anything other than your divorce proceedings.  Instead he took it as carte blanche to air his dirty divorce laundry through another couple of drinks. After his third drink, he started referring to his soon-to-be-ex-wife as "that effing c-u-n-t" (because spelling it out is not only offensive but leads porn spammers to my blog).

To add insult to injury, my date then proceeded to tell me how much money he made, how he was the most interesting man on Earth, and other things arrogant people like to say that I try to tune out.  The fact that he was a Jets fan and drove a Japanese truck put me over the edge. I needed a reprieve.  What I really needed was to leave, but sometimes I'm to polite for my own good (yes, really).

I excused myself and headed to the bathroom.  On my way there, I was approached by a cute man I had seen sitting near us.  Having heard my boisterous date brag about himself all the way across the bar, he laughed and asked me how my date was going.  I told him it could only be better if he had a gun with which I could shoot myself in the foot as an excuse to leave.  As it turns out, he was a cop and did have a gun, but more on that later.  He told me to ditch my date and join his group for a beer.  I wish...

When I returned from the bathroom my date decided that it was his turn and I realized that I had been sitting next to a member from my parent's golf club the entire time.  He turned to me, laughed and asked me how my date was going.  Thanks for the encouragement, buddy!

After what seemed like eons but was really just another half hour, I threw out the old, "Should we get out of here?" cue to leave.  My date quickly took out his bill fold, stuffed to the brim with discount club cards and hundred dollar bills, paid and we left.  With an awkward hug goodbye, he got into his car, dropped the convertible top down (in 50 degree weather because he's THAT awesome) and let me walk to my car alone.  Best. Date. Ever.  (Kidding)

Determined not to let the night suck completely, I hauled my ass back to the bar and sat down in front of the bartender.  He took one look at me and burst out laughing (no surprise).  You know you're on a bad date when the bartender comes up to you after, laughs in your face and buys you a beer.  Sidebar: I love bartenders.  They're freaking awesome.  Some of my favorite people are bartenders. Ok, so that's not 100% true, but I do really like bartenders.  I just have to say they're my favorite people because some of them know more secrets about me than most of my friends. 

While I was making fast friends with the bartender, the cute guy from the bathroom came over, bought me another beer and laughed at me (again, no surprise).  He and his friends had taken bets on how long my Best. Date. Ever. would last.  Apparently, my date was the only who in the bar who didn't realize how bad the date had been.  This was evidenced by the call I received from him 10 minutes after he left asking me out again for the next night.  I respectfully declined.  

I ended up joining the cute cop's table.  He was with a group of friends, all in their 40's, having a "Guy's Night Out" who were happy to have a borderline-inappropriate hot young thang (my words, not theirs) entertain them with my dating horror stories and thoughts on happy ending massages (just say no, because that's gross and you're married, so it's also pathetic).  I spent a couple hours with them and had a blast.  The cute cop from the bathroom was recently divorced and we had a nice time flirting and laughing.

I tend never to be surprised by things that happen in my life.  My family and friends have often said to me, "Something like this would only happen to you"...and it's usually true.  Going on a date with one man and ending up giving my number to someone else, is not what I would call a normal dating story.  Strangely enough, this wasn't the first time it's happened to me, and it probably won't be the last!

So this means he likes me, right?!

You know those people who manage to take something that has nothing to do with them and turn it around to make it about them?  Yeah, well, I'm one of those people.  Well, not really, but in this case I am.

So I went out on a couple dates with a man who I will call Batman.  I call him Batman because he's brooding and mysterious...and he wears a Batman costume around.  Kidding, he looks like Christian Bale.  The real story is that he sent me a picture of himself making a doucheface in which he had a creepy psychotic resemblance to "Patrick Bateman" in American Psycho.  The conversation went something like this:

Me: You look like that guy in American Psycho right before he fed a cat to an ATM.
Batman: You mean, Christian Bale? Batman?
Me: No, I mean you look nuts in the picture, like you might feed a cat to an ATM.  You don't have a cat to you??
Batman: No, no cat.
Me: So yeah, I guess that's Christian Bale then.
Batman: I'll take it.

Christian Bale's doucheface, strikingly similar to the pic that Batman sent me

Yeah, so that's why I call him Batman.  Anyway, Batman and I have had two dates, the second being last Saturday.  We live a good distance apart and so we spend a lot of time text messaging because getting together during the week isn't really feasible.  We usually keep it to the kind of everyday witty text message banter that keeps things interactive with just the right about of "let's not get too close because we've both been through awful divorces and both need therapy to get over our fear of getting hurt".  Example below:

Banter about the questionable reading material I have on my Nook

So you might imagine my surprise when I just a few days after our second date I got a series of serious text messages from Batman.  Apparently when he was going to pick his kids up from their mother's house, his youngest went missing.  He sent me several texts explaining how he was frantic, running around screaming her name, calling the police, thinking she was gone forever, etc.  They even sent out an Amber Alert for his daughter who, thankfully, was playing in a neighbor's basement the entire time.  

I spent a few minutes trying to imagine the terror he must have felt...then a smile grew on my face.  Awful I know, because who smiles when someone tells you their kid just went missing?  But I realized, "This means he likes me, right?!".  I mean, on a night where you thought your child could have been missing or dead or some other parade of horribles, you generally don't text someone about the horrific incident if you don't like them, right?  If I were just some woman he didn't give two farts about, he would have kept it to himself and spent the night cuddling with this daughter.  But no, he texted me instead, both making time for me and opening up about something personal.

After my realization, I sat there laughing at myself.  What kind of person turns this into something about them?  Apparently, me....and then I called up a friend to tell her the funny story about how Batman's missing daughter proves that he likes me. 

Why Do I Attract Stalkers?

DJ has quickly become another one of my stalkers.  One of the men who just lacks the ability to let go. For some reason, I seem to attract nut cases.  At first I worried that "like attracts like," "birds of a feather flock together," and the other sayings that would mean that I'm crazy as well, but I'm chocking it up to bad taste in men and a great time in bed (ha, I'm kidding!  The first nut case barely even got into my pants!).  Really, it's because I continue to engage these men after they've gone off the deep end.  I need to ignore them better.  Regardless, it makes for some funny stories.

Cry Baby
My first stalker was an old high school boyfriend, Cry Baby.  In the summer after 10th grade I went away for a month on a trip to Israel and Europe.  I came back with a new perspective on life, a desire to date Jewish boys and promptly dumped him.  Cry Baby's teenaged heart was crushed and (since it was back in the pre-cell phone days) he would incessantly call my parent's house in an effort to get me to back.  He told me he wanted to hurt me and made some terroristic threats on the country where I had just visited.  One day, Cry Baby called my parents house and my brother, who is 8 years older than me and at 5'8" was significantly larger than my pint-sized former paramour, picked up the phone.  Cry Baby was crying (hence the nickname)and begged my brother (through snot rockets and hiccups) to let him speak to me.  I picked up the phone at the same time I heard my brother boom, "Stop crying you f*cking pussy!  You think I'm going to let you speak to my sister after the pathetic crap you just spewed out?!  If you bother her again, I will kill you, do you understand?!"  Have I mentioned how awesome my brother is?

ESPN
I didn't deal with another stalker until years later.  ESPN was the man I dated immediately before I met my ex-husband, who, as you might guess, worked at ESPN.  I had broken up with him but he was determined to win me back.  He spent a month calling and texting me, emailing my friends to ask them to talk to me and even told me he would have proposed if he had had a ring.  It got so bad that a law school friend who used to work for the FBI, offered to get me a gun for protection.  Thankfully, I was living over an hour away and didn't feel the need for a firearm.   ESPN finally stopped harassing me when I got engaged to my ex-husband, a mere 3 and a half months after our breakup (I know, I know...)

Ex-Husband
My ex-husband was another one who just couldn't let go.  This likely had more to do with the fact that I sprung our divorce on him like it was a surprise trip to Disney World than anything.  That, and the fact that we were married and had vowed to spend our lives together, he presumably loved me very much.  But since actions speak louder than words, we'll go with the surprise factor for the reason he couldn't let go.  I won't divulge too much (you know, because I'm nice and/or because I've blocked out the entire messy divorce process from my memory) but he actually had the nerve to ask my parents (in the courthouse, immediately before our divorce hearing) if they could get me to reconsider my decision.  Dude, let it go.

Teacher
Teacher was someone I dated for a few weeks in October.  He was a single dad of 2 daughters and a high school English teacher. I told him I wasn't ready for anything serious, as I was just starting to date after my divorce.  I'm very into baking and arts and crafts and had given him some good ideas about things to do with his girls.  I told him that I was baking a cake in the shape of a turkey for Thanksgiving because my nephew loves it (I'm not going to lie, I do too, it's a freaking awesome cake mould!).  Then he tells me how excited he was that we would be spending Thanksgiving together--me, him and his kids.  Umm, WTF?!  I quickly ended things after I realized that he wanted an instant wife, step mom and mother (for himself) all in one.  He freaked out and sent me the most grammatically correct scathing emails that I was overwhelmingly impressed and scared at the same time.  I ended up filtering his emails, threatening a restraining order and commenting that a restraining order might affect both his teaching job and his custody situation.  He emailed me a few months after to apologize and ask to grab some coffee.  Umm, no.


BR
I wrote about BR here and here and a few other places that I'm too lazy to link to.  He begged for a second chance and I gave it to him even though I wasn't really feeling a connection.  Fast forward and I realized he was relationship stupid and I was attracted enough to him to fix it.  He didn't go off the deep end, per se, but he wrote me email novellas as to why we would be good together, how he could change, how my feelings weren't justified, etc.  He finally stopped when I ignored enough of these emails and deleted him off Facebook.  Just last month though, he sent me a Facebook message congratulating me on the Bar Exam and making a comment on how we should get back together.  No thanks.


DJ
I worried that DJ would also go off the deep end, as he seem unsatisfied with how I broke things off.  He seemed like a very even keeled man though so I sent him a final email explaining some things I hadn't previously mentioned and how they were non-negotiable for me.  I stated that this would be the last of the discussion and wished him luck.  Surprisingly, it was not the end of the discussion for him.

He told me that he respected my decisions but wanted to argue his way and change my mind.  Umm, WTF?!  That's no where near respecting my decision.  I continued to ignore his emails and text messages and hoped it would go away...until yesterday.  I was out with friends when I received a call from a florist.  My heart sank.  I knew that DJ had sent me flowers.  For a man who claims to have paid attention to me, he must have zoned out on the conversation in which I told him, "I do NOT like flowers.  They shed and die and smell.  I especially dislike roses.  I think they're an overpriced waste of money.  Please never get me flowers."  Of course, he got me flowers, lots of them, with roses.  The arrangement was topped with a pleading note and about a zillion "xoxo's" before his name.

"One drink is all I ask :) xoxoxo :insert name here:"

That wasn't the end of it though.  A few hours after the call from the florist, DJ called, asking about the flowers.  I sent the call to voicemail and I thanked him via text. I told him there was nothing to discuss and wished him luck.  He called again and was sent to voicemail.  Dude, get the message already!  

He then proceeded to berate me via text message and email about how I'm a terrible evil person and how he at least deserves an explanation as to why we can't live happily ever after together.  "I at least deserve to sit down with you for a drink," he texted.  My response, "The only thing you deserve at this point is a padded room and a restraining order.  Leave me alone!"

The Reason that Hindsight is Pretty Funny

Today it's been a year.  A year since I made a decision that would change my life.  A year from what I now joke was the best career move I ever could have made.  A year since I moved back in with my parents and once again heard, "This is the first day of the rest of your life".  Today marks a year since I found myself crying in my divorce attorney's office, check in hand and signing a petition for divorce.

If you don't know the story behind the demise of my marriage, ask someone who knows me in real life because I'm not one to air my dirty, discarded, aging laundry.  It doesn't matter though.  I can say that I married the wrong person, the man I married wasn't the man I dated or that things just didn't work out.  I'm sure if you ask my ex, he will tell you a different story.  But really, it just doesn't matter.

Today I find myself a much stronger woman than I ever imagined possible.  Emotionally, physically and spiritually.  Ask my friends and family who were too afraid to tell me about the shell of a person I had become when I was married and see if they can find that woman today.  I've changed from an unemployed, meek and indecisive person who walked on eggshells and never left the house to a successful, go-getting and independent woman.  Not to mention a whisky-drinking, cowboy-chasing hell of a time!  (It's a song, Mom, I'm not an alcoholic!)

I started this blog as a cathartic release when I realized through my divorce, that there are two options in life: you can laugh or you can cry.  Personally, I think laughing is much better.  Aside from toning your abs and keeping your mascara in check, laughing is way more fun than crying.  I wrote a story to this effect in my "About Me" section.  It's about the day I filed for divorce and I will include it here because it's my blog and I can do whatever I want (ha!) but also because it's the story of what happened a year ago today and is the impetus behind this blog.

My GTFO (Get the Eff Out) Story
Last year on June 6,  I left the divorce attorney's office with my mother and went back to my marital home to collect some belongings of mine.  Time was of the essence so I chose only the most important things and quickly packed up the essentials--a few suitcases of clothes, my passports and birth certificate, the boudoir pics I took for my ex (there was no way I was leaving nudie pics in the custody of a pissed off soon-to-be-ex-husband with access to the internet), the diaper cake I had made for my best friend's baby shower that next weekend (I had spent way too much time to leave that behind) and our two boxers.

We took off with suitcases in the trunk, the dogs in the backseat and my mother in the front.  My mother and I were in shock.  I had just filed for divorce, left my husband without him knowing and escaped to my parents house.  We were both scared and crying.  The stress in the car was palpable and the dogs sensed it.

As I was driving down the highway, the 60 pound boxer could take it no longer.  Shaking, he climbed into my mother's lap for comfort.  For those of you who don't know my mother, suffice it to say that she's not a dog person and a 60 lb boxer sitting in her lap while she was crying about the demise of my marriage and uncertainly about my future, was not exactly ideal.  She tried to get him off and to return to the back seat but he was having none of it.  She pushed and coaxed him, but just he sat there shaking and rooted to her lap.

Never one to be left out on the fun, the 30 pound boxer puppy (that the ex and I had gotten a couple months before) jumped up front as well.  She joined her doggy brother on my mother's lap and my mother, in between sobs, tried to now get both dogs off of her lap and into the back seat.  The bigger of the two dogs decided to reposition himself so his front paws were on the passenger floor, giving the puppy some more room on my mother's lap....and my mother a front row seat to his asshole.

In between hysterical sobs, I looked over to see my mother, buried under 90 pounds of dog, with the "brown starfish" of one pooch sticking up at her face and another pup alternating between licking the ass and her face.  I pulled over to the side of the road in an attempt to move the dogs but it was no use. We looked at each other and lost it.  Our tears turned to laughter.  It was the hysterical honking type of laughter where you sound like a seal and look like there's something wrong with you.  There was nothing else we could do but laugh.

I decided then that when things get tough, you can either dwell on the terrible or find something funny about it.  Rather than crying over my divorce with a face covered in snot and mascara I could laugh at my mother sitting with a dog butt in her face--sorry, Mom.  From that day on, I've always chosen the metaphorical dog butt.  I try to laugh, instead of cry, because to me, Hindsight is Pretty Funny.

Seriously?! Pictures That Shouldn't Be Used in a Dating Profile

After a few months of online dating, I've seen more than my share of dating profiles.  My emotions have run the gambit from being offended to entertained to horrified.  My list of things that I don't want to see on a profile is long.  Below is a condensed version...partially so that I don't come off as a picky betch but also because I like to list things in tens. 

Photos I don't want to see on your dating profile:

1. Your guns (weapons)--I can appreciate guns.  I will even go to a shooting range with you (once I determine that you're not some psycho who's going to kill me).  Heck, the fact that you have a gun is a good sign you're normal (ironic I know, but you can't get license for a gun if you have a criminal record), but I don't want to see pictures of you with an automatic weapon in hand. 
2. Your guns (muscles)--I'm glad you work out.  If your muscles are so impressive that you have to show them off, then I should be able to see them in pictures of you wearing normal clothes.  If they're not impressive enough to see under clothes, why are you showing them off?
3. Alcohol--One picture out at a bar holding a beer is acceptable, but please have have a decent picture without a drink in your hand.  If you're kissing a bottle of booze in one of your pictures, you've got issues.  If you're kissing a bottle of booze in a liquor store, I will only repond so that I can provide you with some social resources for your alcoholism (see Social Resources tab above for links).
4. Outdated pictures--I don't care how great your senior high school portrait was or how hot you looked in that college football uniform.  If your pictures are more than a few years old or you live for those quarterback glory days, move along.
5. Professional photos--Even if the photoshoot you posted wasn't for the purposes of an online dating profile, I'm going to think it was...and I'm going to wonder what kind of person you are.  The exception stands with models (why are you online dating anyway?) and young professionals (like lawyers) who use their law firm profile photo...but still, do you not have any other decent pictures?  Along these lines is posting pictures wearing the same outfit--If you're wearing the same clothes in every picture on your profile, move along.  It's obvious you had one "hot" day and made a friend take pictures of you in a few different settings for effect.
6. Offensive things you think are funny--While you may think that your Halloween picture dressed as a Sheik slitting the throat of an Rabbi is funny, I can assure you that it's not.  There are ways to show your sense of humor without offending people...and if you can't then you're just an ass.
7. Action shots--I'm glad you play golf, football and hike, but pictures of you as a tiny speck on a mountain or your contorted and/or blurry body playing sport don't impress me.  Hunting pictures (common in the Southern states) are a no-no for me too.  I like men who hunt. I think it's sexy. But I don't want to see you posing with a dead 8-point buck.
8. Selfies, mirror shots, and web cam photos--There's a whole website dedicated to the mirror shots (here) so I won't even touch those.  Please, leave your house, meet up with a friend and have them take some pictures of you...just don't wear the same outfit in each one (mentioned in Number 5 on this list) or be participating in some sport where I can't see your face (Number 7 on this list).
9. Exes and/or rings and/or kids--We all have exes, some of us were even married.  I don't care how tan or hot you looked at the time, no one wants a pic of you on your honeymoon with your wedding band on and your ex cropped out.  If you're a single dad, I'm sure you love your kids, but you're not doing yourself any favors by posting their cute pictures on your dating profile.  I have strong feelings on personal privacy and you're violating them.  Pimping out your offspring for a date does not highlight your parenting skills.
10. Pictures of objects--No pictures of cars, houses, boats or pets. None of these things show me who you are, unless you're materialistic or look like your dog.  A man who recently emailed me had a screen shot photo of a MyPeriod app--apparently he ovulated on February 24th...and March 2nd.  Fertile guy.
    
    

    

    Actual screen shot from his POF profile

Analyze This

Last night I spent 40 minutes on the phone with BR breaking things off with him.  Apparently the email I sent in which I explained how he insulted me and made me realize that we weren't compatible wasn't good enough.  He called to try to figure out if the issues I had weren't a result of not knowing each other well enough and could be something we could work on.   They're not and they can't.

After about 20 minutes of explaining why I was upset at the weekend's conversations, I realized that he still wasn't getting it.  He was arguing semantics, explaining that I had misunderstood him.  In reality, I understood his stupid comments quite clearly--he is relationship stupid, I get that.  But the semantics weren't the big picture...the fact that we're simply not compatible is.  I told him that there were just too many things that were missing for me but he didn't seem to understand.  I think if I hadn't gotten off the phone after 40 minutes that I could have been explaining myself until I was blue in the face...more like red in the face because I was getting really impatient with his requests for clarity.  The conversation was a a combination of me saying the following in between his feeble attempts to explain that these are all things we could work on.


Dude, I'm not that into you...I don't know how else to say it...It's just not enough for me...We're not compatible...No really, trust me, we're not... I promise these are big issues for me that can't be worked out...Yes, really...No, I'm not willing to compromise on these issues...Honestly, this isn't working for me...We're really not compatible...Do you really want to be in a relationship where I'm forcing myself to make things work...Really, it's not going to happen...and how can you not like country music??? 

I'm giving myself a big ol' pat on the back for this conversation for two reasons.  First, I managed to stay calm and not curse or scream throughout the 40 minute conversation in which I essentially repeated the same things over and over and over again.  I even told BR the self control it was taking me not to strangle the phone out of frustration that I had to justify myself to him.  True story. You'd think at that point that he would have gotten the hint--but we've gone over how he's relationship stupid.

The second reason I'm patting myself on the back is because I stood up for myself.  I recognized that there were greater issues than "just not feeling it" and articulated those well...regardless of the fact that they fell on deaf ears.  There are some things that are not negotiable for me.  That includes being thoughtful and considerate.  Like when you know you're having a woman over for a drink before dinner, you should text her to ask what she wants to drink or pickup a couple options and not just say "screw it."   Instead BR hoped that I would just drink Jack on the rocks because that's all he had in the house and didn't feel like going to the liquor store after spending an hour buying softball cleats at Sports Authority.  Yes, BR, to me that is indicative of the kind of person you are.

BR tried to argue with me that his actions were not a reflection of the man he is.  I countered that if his actions weren't who he was, then perhaps he should change them.  After my divorce I realized that someone who refuses to pick up his own dog's crap (I was the designated poop picker upper for years) is someone who will always run from a problem.  Actions are an insight into the person themselves and if you don't think enough about me to consider what I'd like to drink, or to ask if I'd prefer crushed or cubed ice (cubed, the crushed ruined my drink doofus), or even realize that this is an issue, then you're not the right person for me.

You Can't Fix Stupid

I broke things off with BR last night after a great few dates followed by a series of unfortunate self-sabotaging moves on his part.  I discussed what had happened with my friend from Dating without a Net, and she said to me, plain and simple, "You can't fix stupid".  Truth be told, she did this over Twitter so it was more of a #cantfixstupid, but the point was well received.

BR isn't stupid by any stretch of the imagination, at least not book-wise.  He's a highly intelligent and successful man slaving away for corporate America.  He does however seem to be relationship stupid.  After a failed marriage based on a number of deal breakers and really poor communication, I can't deal with relationship stupid again.  BR told me his longest relationship "tapped out at about a year."  I'm of the mindset that if you're a moderately attractive, intelligent and able bodied individual who hasn't had more than a year long relationship by the age of 42, then something is amiss. 

BR did a lot of great things.  He treated me like a lady.  He called when he said he would, opened doors for me and never let me pay.  He was witty and liked to do things and always had a plan for the evenings spent together.  However, this couldn't compensate for the lack of social graces that he had that make him, at least in my eyes, relationship stupid. There's something to be said for knowing when to speak and when to hold one's tongue...or at least not make dumb and insulting comments.  BR had a habit of saying thoughtless things and, to add insult to injury, he took those things one step too far.  I will illustrate with some examples that all took place this weekend. 

Anti-Country Music
The first strike against him was his vehement anti-country music sentiments.  As you should know by now, I'm a huge country music fan and love listening to my Sirius Satellite country stations.  I realize that not all of my potential suitors will be country lovers, but I do expect a certain respect for my music choices, especially if I tell you that I like to play dress up with my cowboy hat. 
Thoughtless comment:  He went on an anti-country music tirade, complete with telling me the songs all sound the same and the lyrics are asinine.  Those lyrics gave me a lot of strength through my divorce, jerk face. 
Taking it too far:  He picked me up in his Sirius-subscribed car (after I lamented that I missed my country stations while my car, with Sirius, was in the shop from my accident) and announced, "Oops, my satellite radio broke on the way here--no country music for you!"  I certainly won't be riding your "Big Green Tractor" anytime soon!

Past Loves
Aside from his hatred of country music, BR made the mistake of telling me too much about past relationships.  However, until Saturday night, he failed to mention that that none of these relationships lasted more than a year...and that he'd never lived with a woman.
Thoughtless comment:  He told me about a woman he dated and mentioned the number of times they had slept together.  Perhaps he did this to illustrate how short their relationship was, but it was information that was really unnecessary and made me uncomfortable.
Taking it too far:  He proceeded to tell me that the sex was bad (ok, I get that) and why it was bad.  I can appreciate a mention that they had poor physical chemistry, but he described another woman as a "dead fish." How old are we?!

Exercise
The weekend hit a low point with his third and final over the top comment.  Note to men: No matter what a woman looks like, do not tell her that she should be exercising more...unless she's paying you to be her personal trainer.  How BR's testicles have managed to survive 42 years without being kicked to oblivion, I am still bewildered.  To add insult to injury, he's one of those horrible people who actually loses weight when he doesn't work out and although he probably can't appreciate the idiocy of this comment, he should still know better. 
Thoughtless comment: After a particularly feisty make out session, BR laid his head on my chest and commented that my heart was pounding very fast.  I'm not sure about your experiences buddy, but that's typically a side effect of amorous activities.
Taking it too far:   He followed up this comment by saying, "Wow, you better get back on that Spinning bike!" Instead of saying something like, "Wow, I really got you worked up," or letting it go, he said, essentially told me I was out of shape.  Not 20 minutes later, he made another comment to me about how I need to exercise more...and no, it wasn't a cute way of saying he wanted to engage in some "cardio".  

I get that men can be idiots (because, well, it's true) but after 20 some odd years of dating, you'd think that BR would have figured out how not to sabotage his chances of dating a woman.  I'm sure that if I had stronger feelings for BR, I would have brushed this comments off as silly and not as deal breakers.  But stupid comments, compounded with his inability to ask me how my day was (after I listened to him go on and on and on about buying softball cleats at Sports Authority), I was done.  You just can't fix stupid.

Deal Breakers

I had a great second date with BR last night (the man I went out with on Friday who looks like a Banana Republic ad).  Following up to my post over the weekend, it turns out that I didn't scare my him off with everything included on my "What Not to Say on a First Date" list--yay!  We went out for dinner last night, which appears to be a step up, as we had met for drinks on Friday.  BR got major bonus points for being respectful (i.e. keeping my clothes on) and not looking like a douche in a lavender shirt.  I like a man who isn't afraid to rock girly colors.

With the first date out of the way and some hour long phone conversations under our belt, we talked a bit about some "meatier" things last night.  Naturally, this had me on high alert for potential deal breakers.  I've spent the past several months honing my "douche radar" and prefer to determine the presence of a deal breaker as soon as possible.  Obviously some things can't be determined right away, but I'll be damned if I don't try to find them out!

DEAL BREAKERS

1. Addictions: This is a no brainer for me.  Alcohol, drug, porn, sex and gambling addicts need not apply...unless you make a shit ton of money gambling...or are really good at sex ;) 
2. Bad Family Relationships: I will never date anyone who has been "disowned" by their mother, again.  Good family relationships are indicative that you're not a huge asshole in general...unless you have a family of assholes, that is.  Treating your family with respect is important.  It's a glaring red flag to scream to a parent, "I wish you had died instead of Dad!" (true story, folks!)
3. Cheaters: Because it's not cool to share STDs. Note: I do not have any STDs.
4. Not wanting children: This is tricky one.  At a certain age this question turns from being construed from a curious inquisitive nature to a frantic, "Will-you-have-my-babies-so-that-this-stupid-biological-clock-in-my-head-will-stop-ticking?!  These ovaries aren't getting any younger, damnit!"  I'm not looking to pop out a litter anytime soon, but if I'm ever going to justify a boob job, I'm going to need some ankle biters to suck these tots dry first.  Not to mention, I love kids.
5. Good Morning Texts: No good morning texts until we're in a relationship.  Seriously, you have nothing better to do but text message me before I've even gone to the bathroom?!
6. Dick Pics: You might enjoy exchanging longing glances at your one-eyed monster, but it's just freaking me out. 
7. Bad Mouthing your Ex:  An occasional gripe is okay, but calling her "that pig-faced pirate hooker" ain't gonna fly with me.
8. Wives:  Call me when your divorce is final and you've been to therapy.  A little role play where you're the married boss and I'm a dictating secretary is a different story altogether ;)
9. Lack of Education: I'm a lawyer, not a free lunch. There's nothing sexier than a man who doesn't have to ask for an allowance...and knows how to spell. 
10. Super Freaky Sex Stuff: I'm open minded but draw the line at bodily functions, animals, group sex and pain (aardvark! aardvaaaarrrrrk!)

What are your deal breakers?

What Not to Say on a First Date

I had a great first date last night.  I went out for drinks with a cute guy in his early 40's.  We met online and had been emailing back and forth for about a month.  It was the kind of witty banter emails that make you wonder if you're going to have the same connection in person.  Still, even if you do have a personal connection, what happens if the person looks nothing like their pictures.  It's all fun and games until someone is 100 pounds or 5 inches off on their body description.

Getting ready for the date, I tried not to psych myself out but couldn't help getting ridiculously nervous while driving to the restaurant.  However I was in luck when I arrived and found my 5'10" date to actually be standing taller than me (in heels, no less), really cute and decked out like a Banana Republic model.

You'd think I'd be golden once the stars had aligned and delivered the exact replica of what I had envisioned from our emails.  It was a really fun date filled with laughter, a couple drinks, a good night kiss and positive follow up text from him...but looking back at it this morning I wonder if I will ever hear from him again.  Why?  Because for some reason I have become "first date stupid" and manage to blow them all (no, not literally blow them you perv!).  

To keep my dumb mouth shut and my head on straight, I have complied a list of things not to talk about on first dates, EVER.  This reminds me of the sorority rush rule where the 3 B's were off limits for conversation: Booze, Boys and Bank Accounts (yes, it was a Jewish sorority).  I may or may not have talked about some of all of these things last night.  ::hands head in shame::  But I still got a goodnight kiss without him trying to undress me--so ha!

THINGS NOT TO TALK ABOUT ON A FIRST DATE

1. You're holding to Patti Stenger's two drink maximum: This implies not only that you're a drunk slut but that you have a plenty of stupid things to say if you do, in fact, get drunk.  Crazy points if you mention the Millionaire Matchmaker herself.
2. You're any sort of "masochist": Even if you're using it to describe something good, "I'm an academic masochist" it comes off sounding like you're a freak.  There are a bajillion other words in the English language to describe yourself as "hard working". 
3. Communication with your exes: Whether you're best friends or he "wants to spit on your grave" this is information that does not need to be disclosed.
4. Therapy: Self-explanatory.  
5. Interwebz Friends: This is especially true if you're dating men over 35, unless they're part of some hobby forum of their own that somehow makes The Nest seem normal.  
6. Write a dating blog: This is all kinds of badness.  Just don't tell them.  
7. Have encountered a lot of sexual freaks: Way to make the freak across from you feel bad about themselves.  Hey, you never know what you might be in to (wink, wink!)
8. Made a book of nudie pics for your ex-husband: Actually this one has been well received but talk of nudie pics is probably better left until future dates.
9. You want to get a dog that can fit into your purse: Regardless of whether you will actually put said pooch in your purse, if you mention you want a tiny canine companion, you will be pigeon-holed into a crazy dog-in-purse lady.  Better than a crazy cat lady, but still bad.
10. You want to open a dog bakery one day: Men do not understand this.  They either think you're nuts or that you want to chop up puppies and bake them into pies.

Anything else I should add to the list?