OMG, Y’all have to read this and/or listen LOL 🙂
So today is the first step on my new path. I did good. I fought off the temptation of ruining my fitness plan. I stuck to my guns about not getting on a dating site. And I tackled my elliptical. (Including rearranging the furniture to accommodate the likelihood of me being successful. I like to look out my ceiling to floor windows into the back yard, so I think that will help.) Anyway, I have been doing a lot of reading lately and discovered the scary truth: neglecting ME (my physical, mental health and needs, in general) is just another form of self-punishment. I thought I had long outgrown this terrible practice. This is a long road, y’all. A childhood filled with rejection and invalidation doesn’t just disappear. It lingers relentlessly, waiting for a moment to have an encore. One more bow for the great performance of the past.
Today is for hope. I can believe that I will escape my current life and move on to the next phase. I am going to continue to rebuild myself, despite the outcries, protests (silent and otherwise) and cold shoulders I have received from “family” and “friends”. So here we go, on this adventure, seeking happiness. The real kind of happiness that lasts and recreates itself and goes from one person to another. I am almost afraid to dream. But, a dreamer is always easily led to the chase. The sweet feeling of closing my eyes and leaping…never knowing for sure where I may land.
I have finally reached the end of the man candy road. I can’t take anymore. Not one single more first meeting, filled with fake interest in what I think or feel. Can’t take another false hope or future faker. I am sure that somewhere in this mix of ridiculosity, I am partially at fault. There is no way that one girl could attract so many personality-disordered men without some sort of secret beacon sending out the message: “I am here and willing to tolerate the absurd.” Today was the very end of that era. I took down my dating site profile and have resolved to work on myself.
Have you ever noticed that life imitates those “coming of age” movies? It’s like you look back and some of what you planned is exactly where you are, but so much is not at all what you dreamed of. I want my dream. I want a man that loves my strengths, tolerates my weaknesses and brings out the best in me. A man who allows me to get close and see him for who he is and was and will be. I want the dream I bought into when I married a man who cost me everything. I have lost my entire family, all of my friends, my reputation, my health and my career. Thank God I have my children and my online friends.
Here’s what I am thinking: Dating is frustrating! I don’t know why my experience with the online dating site is so different this time. For some reason, there is a different “crowd”. I have been asked out by 6 police officers. Wow. I think I have NEVER been asked out by the popo before. I also am starting to see that I keep getting linked up with the same type of man on this site. My question is…..do online dating sites attract shy, introspective, brooding, mysterious men OR does my profile attract these guys?
Professor Poetry is a man in his early 30’s, who is a professor at a local University. He was cute, nice, brilliant but, well, ummm *shifting in my chair* awkward. He discussed how he had a cat who lives several thousand miles away and that he calls her on the phone. He also referred to her as his “girlfriend” (MEEEEE—OW!) I was completely amused by the seemingly normal exterior he had going, which concealed a bizarre world beneath the surface. We went out to dinner and laughed. He brought me home and kinda hinted that he wanted to come inside (It was early and dinner was quick, so I assumed it was an innocent thing.) Prof. Poetry came in and sat on my sofa and while we were talking…he jumped me! He was like a Lion on a gazelle. He was like cheese on a cracker. He was like white on rice. Okay you get the picture. he was a great kisser, but I never did get the lead up to the jump. It was like…Huh?!! So, I make it clear that the goodies are not to be had by his first-date enthusiasm. I don’t think I have ever had any man be that forward when sober. He stated that we should hang out this weekend but would not commit to a night, so I told him he had to go so I could get my baby. He kissed me goodnight and said he would call me. The following morning I got up and texted him Good Morning, have a great day. His Reply: A not-very-English-Professorish:”mornin” Ummm . Mornin’. Can I get a “g”? Oh dear. I feel a dissertation on the weirdness of him coming to mind. I haven’t heard from him since, and there’s a part of me that feels ok with that.
Super Trooper: This man is hilarious funny. I enjoy talking to him, but he is a stalker. he actually made a donation to the company I sing with in order to have them give him my full name. (I will deal with the ticket booth man later!) He is talking about a weekend away together, but has not made an effort to set up a time to meet. Today, I have not heard from him at all which he knows is like pointing me to the next good looking suspect.
Motorcycle Man: This man is quite older than I. He is funny, but also doesn’t make much of an effort to text or call regularly. I have spoken on the phone to him once and felt really pressured to carry the conversation. I am meeting him for lunch tomorrow, but can’t imagine that he will be a good fit for my personality.
BMOC: This is a college guy, much younger than I. He is great looking and funny, but will have to prove he is grown. I am supposed to be going out with him tomorrow night, so we will find out how it goes!
There you have it: My Crazy life update!
Love and Blessings,
Miss Maribel Maeve
I didn’t want to post a negative post. I think that says it all. I am anonymously blogging and still feel the pressure to be pleasant. I had a terrible, no-good, awful day at work yesterday. I got written up for a lot of unfounded things. I was devastated. I don’t know if it was the fact that the things were so skewed to serve their purpose or if there is never a word of praise to counter balance that onslaught of criticism. Whatever it was, it made me fall apart.
I feel alone. Completely alone in the adult world. The men I go out with don’t last long because they are too busy for me. Maybe they are too busy lying, cheating or focusing on their own joy. I AM TIRED. There is no sleep long enough to re-energize me. I need kindness and love. My friends are superficially friends, my family has all turned against me. My babies are the only people who are here with me. I fear that my sadness is causing them pain. Whenever I feel this way I like to think of what I am thankful for:
My beautiful, brilliant baby boys.
My coworkers who are my inspiration every day.
A rainbow after the rain.
Music, Music, Music. And the fact that for this moment I can hear it..how long that will be the case I don’t know.
All of you who share a piece of your heart and spirit with me.
I am not sure where to begin this post. My head is a mumble-jumble of random thoughts that I am afraid are not very interesting. I have been texting Mr. Bubby Wubby (too much text, not enough talk) and I REALLY like him. However, he is a typical con. Flashy smile, gorgeous eyes…says all the right things at the right time. I recognize that man, that look, that phrase, that smell, all designed to trick you into giving him your heart for his collection. These are my men! The man who has no job, no home of his own, no set schedule and no obligations to stay or go. What in the world have I put into the universe to bring me the heart-stopping gaze of these charmers? If I didn’t have 2 little babies to think of, I would have a long list of naughty names and deadly deeds. But, it isn’t just me on this rollercoaster ride. I have to make good choices for my future. I have to think with my planning brain not my throw-all-caution-to-the-wind brain.
That brings me back to Mr. Jag. He is calling and asking me to go out of town again. I like him, I really do. However, He is older and has health issues and and and…… I know I need to focus on the good qualities. In Bronze Goddess’ world, that’s what “good girls” do; they find the pleasantry in every unpleasant situation. Chin up.
This video is my favorite and often describes my situation, full of contradictions..that’s me.
I feel like a Cole Porter song.
Singing, shimmying, swaying, smiling.
The Man parade this weekend was bizarre at best, but also good. We had Friday night which included Mr. Phone Man, who I cancelled out on Thursday. He didn’t text and didn’t call except one time in 3 days and it wasn’t a complete sentence. “Band Practice now”. Huh?! Is it an order, a warning, or a statement? Who knows, who knew, who cares? I texted him and told him to keep on practicing.
Dr Dolittle (aka Dr. Sporty) flaked out, so I blocked him. And we had a strange contender for flake of the week: A guy we will call Braggy, asked me out. I told him all I had available was lunch Saturday. On Staurday he asked if we could meet at noon, then texted asking to meet at 3, then texted asking to meet at 7 PM. I replied that I was much too exhausted with all the planning, that I was afraid I was too tired for an actual date. (With him!)
Dr. Dolittle flaked that same night, so I accepted a date with Chief Wounded Ego. This man is very nice, really considerate, but very Vanilla. I mean, no sprinkles, no hot fudge sauce…nothing spicy. He talked about how his ex-wife ditched him without warning. It is a sad story, but it’s terrible to be on the receiving end of the ego-destruction. I need a man. Like a man-man. Not a half-hearted, broken man. If you have been reading my blog, you know that I am taking it as my mission to help rebuild his ego. However, I am not very single-focused and he will be my side-project. I like him and he is nice.
The final date of the weekend marathon was the flaming chocolate fondue. Kaboom. Dy-no-mite! Delish. Mr.Bubby Wubby is the quintessential tempting temptation for Miss Maribel Maeve: He is stocky and muscular (Yum), Gorgeous eyes, Smiles a lot and is smart and sexy. Also, he is (self-admittedly) cheap, drives an old beater and has no aspirations in life except to save money and at the same time become old. This type of a man baffles me because I don’t know why men think a woman would want to build her life on mediocrity. I don’t need the best of everything, but I would like to know that the man I am with has some kind of motivation. Women find men with ambition to be sexy. It’s genetics, I think. Hunt and gather. Not hunt and Nap. Gather, my man, GATHER.
Anyway, I am sure I will be utterly distracted from any possible meaningful future man because I will be drooling on Mr. Bubby Wubby or rescuing Chief Wounded Ego.