Destructo-Date

As I get older, wiser and more mature, I am (hopefully) more aware of when my dating = a pattern of destruction. Certainly my marriage had that special destructive flavor, for much longer than I care to admit. Since I got out of that one alive and handed the narcissistic wasbund off to the next unsuspecting wife, you’d think I could make better choices going forward! Right? Well, maybe. Remains to be seen.

Right on!

It’s really important for me to be #1 as a girlfriend. I’m saying, pay some attention to me. So you may marry me and love yardwork, TV and triathlons more than I bargained for. (But you’ve managed to put those aside to bed down with wifey #2.) Or you may love playing Words With Friends with your wife during our romantic dinner, having twin Facebook profiles with your ex and going on platonic dates with widowed women from work. Or, it may just be that you live 5 hours away and are ever-entwined in sharing a house with your wife.

Any way you slice it, I deserve a bigger piece of the pie. Am I being greedy? Selfish? Realistic? Self-sacrificing? I’m not sure.

You tell me just how much pie Dating Suburban should get, please.

I think I want a REALLY big piece.

Not OK, Cupid!

My Blogger Buddy has been dabbling in the Dating World for a few decades, and she summed it up nicely for me recently by musing:

"Your Vacation Date reminds me that I'm going to a romantic Palm Springs hideaway with a gay man! It adds up to about the same "date" as with your mom!

And speaking of dates: had to dump the latest OK Cupid suitor the day before Valentine's Day. We did the BonerBack Trail (he wore hip, boho sneakers and fell on his ass three times), then went to PIS, where he proceeded to get drunk (he was also slamming them back on our first date) and make crude remarks.

The whole day, he could've held my hand, rubbed my arm or back, we could've made out on the trail, but, NO. He wants to get laid, so something crude pops out of his mouth. 

What is it with hetero men? 
Why do they think that behavior's going to lead to sex?

I'm going to have a better time in PS with Gay Jay than I probably ever would have with Mr. Not-OK Cupid."

DS's wasbund took the same approach to intimacy. Got it, guys? This doesn't work. We like kind, loving attention, not foolishness and insults. Pretty simple, really. Just like men.

Rebound Relationship

When one relationship ends, it’s so easy to fall right into another. Wasbund fell into the convenient clutches of botox beotch, CC. Knives falls into the arms of any attractive work colleague, past, present or future.

And I’m...well...still falling.

Catch me if you can, please, someone.

I haven’t hit rock bottom yet.

Birth Date

For all my social angst, it turned out OK. Even rather fun actually! All my disparate friends really enjoyed talking and meeting each other. They told me so. Some people couldn't come, so the group size was manageable for me - I didn't have to escape to the bathroom, chug wine and text myself blog ideas from the commode. In fact, I even drank coffee vs beer so I was less likely to crash my new car.

I did inadvertently meet a GUY at the bar before everyone arrived. His name was Tom. Curse! He was over 40, never married and not gay. Apparently rich. Would rather stay home and read but was out to meet his married not-gay guy friend. Tom was surprised that within moments of meeting me, a barfly, pretty and all alone, I was the center of the universe and knew half the people in the bar. He ended up staying for most of the party and even taking pictures.

The regifts I received were cherished and appreciated. Nothing shiny and new, please. I’ve been there and I know the glittery doesn’t last.

While I may have aged 100 years in 2011 alone,
it still felt great to survive another year.

 YOU’RE INVITED!  LET'S CELEBRATE!

In the last 18 months, divorce has aged me 100 years. But in calendar years I'm only turning 43. Still young, right? Am I young enough to start over and still have a life????? Some days I wonder.

Please join me to celebrate the fact I'm still standing (and very much alive) considering I've been badly beaten in a custody war and survived a big bad car crash, to name just a few recent events. 

And have it too!

WHAT: DS's 43rd birthday!

WHEN: Friday, February 24th

TIME: 6:00 - 9:00 pm

WHY: Why not???? I'm usually in my PJs by 7pm on Fridays. But let's face it, we all need an outing from time to time!

IMPORTANT INSTRUCTIONS: If you insist on bringing a gift, I insist it must be a REgift. Seriously. Don't even consider spending money. I'd appreciate your castaways and giveaways so much more! And of course bring husbands, significant others, even kids if you can't get a babysitter. I love being around other happy couples. Really, I do.

Would YOU Date Her?

How’s this for the ideal date?

Unemployed, ex-convict, going bankrupt in a divorce case that will not end, kid kicked out of school, messy house, no time to cook or eat. As a result very tired and boney. 

 

(A few minor yellow flags never hurt.)

Between children enrolled in too many sports, too many carpools, job searching and attorney appointments – just not enough down time to date.

Yet some relaxation and overdue affection would do her some good.

This job pays great dividends that are revealed only upon acceptance.

Interested?

VD Date

Now that I’ve been alone for over a year, I get it. I get why people want to be alone.

Nobody to boss you.

You can make your own decisions, and they stick.

No one to tell you that you aren’t good enough.

Nobody to second-guess, criticize or condemn you.

Nobody to lie to you.

No one to answer to.

Just you! I mean me! Nobody else!

Not that I don’t miss loving, supportive collaboration. Parenting together. Knowing that there’s someone out there in the world who really cares about you. Who you can call if you get into a car accident, or get locked out.

And that’s just what girlfriends are for. No strings attached.

So when I think about VD, Valentine’s Day, or Vindictive Dating – I just say no. 

Only love, please. "I love me!" has a nice ring to it.

Room Mate Date

What could make for easier logistics than dating under the very same roof?

While some couples deliberate: When is the right time to shack up together? How long must we be dating before making the big live-in commitment? Have we passed all the appropriate tests? Are we at the right stage of life? Will I still be able to secretly date other people if I live with her?

I can easily advise on how to solve your dilemma. It’s like this: Find a roommate of the opposite sex who you find dashingly desirable, interesting, fun, trustworthy and practical. In other words, make sure the compatibility quotient is high. Then, split the rent. Splitting rent establishes relationship hierarchy of control, aka equality. Now, you have a built-in companion, confidante, dinner and movie date, and friend. An optional couch cuddler. A person to make sure you wake up alive every day.

Oh, but what to do when you get sick of each other? Easy. Go into separate rooms. Or somebody goes out for a while. Be sure to maintain other friendships. If necessary, have a fight while safely nestled in each other’s arms.

Overall, the roommate dating plan can cut through layers of relationship bullcrap with a single swipe. You did it. You took the plunge and didn’t overanalyze.

Now, just see if it all lives up to the living together thing.

PS This also works well with same sex roommates too if you are looking to pursue a sexual preference/gender conversion.

PPS It works best if the roommate is loving and caring and nurturing and empathetic and cute and smart and artistic and funny and kind and compassionate too. Avoid narcissistic aholes whenever possible.

Dessert Date

Every great date ends in dessert. And take that as you will.

This one was particularly nice. We had dinner. I was full. Dessert Date suggested…something sweet. He is sweet. We agreed to get something chocolate, like a piece of cake. Ended up sharing cannoli, wine and a cup of tea. Even better. Sat holding hands and gazing longingly into each other’s eyes. Holding each other across the table. Staying long after the restaurant should have closed.

 

Yeah, I may be dreaming. 
If I close my eyes and wish, will it happen again?

Such a sweet, sweet dream.

Fireplace Date

This is seriously SO romantic. I recently met some Daters who do the fireplace. Warm, flaming, cracking fire – replete with hugging, conversation and Amaretto. Between looking into each other’s eyes, they stare into the entrancing flames. Beautiful, sparkling, timeless, mesmerizing.

It only takes a spark to get a fire going;
soon all those around will warm up in it's glowing

Now I understand why they say…

“You feel a spark”

“Their love was on fire”

“Flames of passion”

“Burning love”

Fireplace Date is the ultimate in cozy warmth, nature, nurture - and simply shutting out the world in the name of good old fashioned snuggling.

Go burn some love.

Couch Date

I’m not usually the jealous type. I don’t want to spend time, effort or energy worrying and wondering if my partner, girlfriend, kids, boss, or whoever is superseding, outdoing and cheating on me.

But admittedly I’m a tiny bit envious of the Couch Dater. This is the person who so easily plops down, relaxes and snuggles on a couch. As a supersonic, busy, high functioning mom, my butt never went anywhere near a couch anyway. Sitting down? I was lucky to relax in my office chair for 8 hours a day. But never a couch.

Couch Daters are a lucky breed. Couch Daters may sit up or get horizontal. Couch Daters may hold a glass of wine or aperitif. Couch Daters may use warm cozy blankets. Couch Daters may get cozy with another Couch Dater. They may choose to forego the TV for intimate conversation (go, Couch Daters!).

You need no prequalifications, advanced degree or trust fund to be a Couch Dater. You need no fancy car, career trajectory, athletic ability or family pedigree. Just. Be. You.

I have lovely memories of a Couch Date with my friend M. I’d had a particularly nasty day in court. M immediately suggested we meet out for a drink and then we retired to her couch. We sat opposite and talked. She and couch helped me feel so, much, better.

And M and I both agree that when you can share a male Couch Date, it’s also so nice to add a dash of Cuddle. I’m on the lookout. Couch Cuddlers are out there! I know it.

Vacation Date

I know my dating life has hit rock bottom when I take my MOTHER on a romantic weekend to Palm Springs. A weekend I originally bought to give my “boyfriend” as a Christmas gift. But when the broken-toy-boyfriend pronounced that we would be spending $5 on our Christmas gifts this year, I realized I’d gone waaaayy over the edge. I didn’t care so much about the price tag; I wanted to go on a trip with good company!

So in the end, I never mentioned it to the broken toy guy, and invited my mother instead, who happened to have journeyed across the country to help me in my most recent time of crisis. That’s the best thing about mothers is... they are always your mother. And every human being on this earth has one, like it or not. A mother's love is for always. (That’s what I’ve told my kids to remember, since I'm losing them in custody court this week.)

Romance in a package

Our adventure trip – the “romance package” – included champagne, treats, jade bed massages, free coffee and movies in the jacuzzi under the stars. It also included twilight zone hotel episodes, a flat tire, AAA, exchanging rental cars at the airport and high (I mean high) winds. So while plans to lay by the pool and read about borderline personality disorder and Zen job searching flew out the window in the gusts, we still had an…adventure.

At least we got to vacate life for a while. 
Can’t we all use a break every once in a purple moon?

Revised Dating Want Ad

My original dating want ad was not getting much action. What do you think of this one?

• Craves adventure, cilantro and fine cheese.
• Inspired by creativity, music, red wine and relationships.
• Favorite spot is any beach with warm water and warm sand. Warm is a theme.
• Would rather be reading or writing than talking to you, but can still hold an excellent conversation.
• Boycotts mindless TV.
• Smarty-pants.
• Often outwits herself; too smart for own good.
• Smart, yet impaired by her own judgment.
• Willowy with honey-blonde locks, runners’ legs and ice blue eye. Other eye has been damaged.
• Athletic; not competitive.
• Expert laundry folder.
• Loves cats and board games, but highly allergic.
• Three wild banshees, or rather, children orbiting her 50% of time.
• Sleeps other 50%.

New Year's Date

Besides wishing for the standard love, peace and hap-penis, I have a New Year’s resolution. I’m going to go on more dates than last year! That should bring my ambitious dating quota to 3. And I’m talking Man-dates.

Don’t let my low dating numbers fool you. I’m perfectly dateable. Really smart, really cute, really desirable, good family, not materialistic, savvy with money, athletic (some would say “skinny”), fun yet serious, employable but not employed, experienced with kids and adults and cats but not dogs – what’s not to love?

Could it be the tattoo on my forehead that says, “Divorced! I’ve been rejected! Now I’m hurt and vulnerable! Don’t you fuck with me!” ? I should really have that tattoo removed. Then maybe I could go into bars without men scrambling under their barstools and stooling in general.

Last year I spent the fateful NYE at home, fireside, computer on lap, alternating between legal briefs (no, I’m not in law school, and it wasn't underwear briefs), final fake flirtations with wasbund (who shortly thereafter wholeheartedly ditched me to quickly cohabitate with my old crusty colleague), and simultaneously wondering why Knives didn’t want to spend time with me (being my “boyfriend” and all), yet he went to a party with acquaintances he hadn’t seen in 10 years. I felt truly special and loved.

Seriously though, besides 3 dates, I have a couple sub-NY-resolutions:

·         I want to be the best person I can be. Wait...that’s way too broad.

·         Forget getting in shape. I already am.

Don't get burned in love!

·         Being a good mother and not pulling all my hair out in one day, or anyone else’s?

My son suggested no more wet farts during dinner. For himself, that is.

How about - go to the beach, read and drink a glass of wine every day?

Wine is good for the heart.
I have a really nice, big one of those. Try it.

What about yours?

Holidates

I think the hardest thing about being divorced is the holidays. What? You thought holidays were already stressful? Oh no, my dear friend. You haven’t the faintest idea.

So your kids - YOUR kids - wake up on Christmas morning in another woman’s house. Her “Santa” traditions are impatiently explained to your confused children. Lavish, expensive gifts replace good ol’ fashioned parenting and intact families.

Your relatives are over 3000 miles away. And you are court-ordered not to travel out of state. So you spend Christmas Eve alone, hearing the loud, annoying clink-clink of wasbund and Botox Beotch’s dinner party toast, all the while trying not to wish too hard that your boyfriend will leave his wife.

Sound fun yet? It gets better.



There's a gaping hole in my life

Custody exchanges take place at McDonalds, in the pouring rain, 2 hours late. The police are called, and AAA has to jump start your car, which has died while you are waiting. The kids are hungry and haven’t eaten. You thought wasbund was a cook? Not anymore. It’s McDonald’s drive-thru for Christmas dinner!

Grave times

So if you thought your holidays were a wee bit stressful, crowds at the mall a bit too much, cooking taking all your time – have a go with me. I’ll trade places with you ANYTIME.

Hap Pee Holidates to you, too.