I’ll never kiss and tell … (you to fuck off)

Apparently this blog is becoming a dating blog.

Who knew it would be this difficult? Raise your hand so I can slap you for not warning me.

The trick of online dating is patience. Not my strongest skill set. I have slogged through for a few weeks now. As my friend KH will attest, I swear to delete my profile every few days. And then I’ll get a bite and string it on a little longer.

I’ve had some really crummy dates, including one guy who was the real-life version of Flanders from the Simpsons. He was soooo boring. I knew we were doomed when he showed me the pic of his newest toy train.

Moving on.

Recently had a lovely exchange, followed by a date with someone I really liked. There was chemistry. Laughing. Lingering. Smooching.

Wait …. what? Oh yes. I smooched him. It was the bingo round, people, and I thought I had a coverall.

Then I never heard from him again.

WTF!

I’m usually pretty good at reading people, especially when they are into me. I like me, you obviously like me, this could go someplace nice.

After our date, I e-mailed to share my enjoyment of the evening. Crickets.

Oh hell no.

For a second, I understand why women can go nuts. I know enough about him to make him uncomfortable.

The difference between myself and the really crazy bitches, is that I think about it, but that’s as far as it goes.

But fellas, let me say, this is WHY we are crazy. And you have no one but yourself to blame.

Meeting my next potential stalking subject for lunch today. I’ll let you know how it goes. 

I am gonna LOL the shit out of you

I’m not one to mince words, as a rule. If I don’t like something, chances are I will tell you, along with exactly why I hate said thing, and subsequently you for doing said thing. I may have been called blunt a time a two.

For example, I really don’t like air quotes when used in the wrong context. If it’s LITERALLY on fire, don’t air quote it. If his dance moves are FIGURATIVELY “on fire” then I wish your fingers well as they flail through the air like some kind of physical Tourette’s.

Unfortunately, when on a date for the very first time, I've tried to temper my bluntness. I opt for biting my tongue or the inside of my mouth until it bleeds because I want to verbally throttle this person so badly -- but hey, we’re on a date. (whee)

So I find myself exchanging e-mail with a grown man who is an LOLer. Yes, this is on my list. You are not a 13-year old girl. And if you are laughing out loud that often, then you probably have the real Tourette’s and we aren’t going to work out any way.

After I stewed over the first few LOLs in my e-mail, I decided to let it go because I was

“trying to date people.”

Fail.

When we finally met in person, he actually used the acronym LOL in a conversation. Really?? Because just laughing would have been misconstrued?

Cheek bleed.

I couldn’t stand it, so I made a smart ass quip. Coffee didn’t last much longer past that.

When I left I felt bad. I should watch my mouth. I should not be so blunt. I should allow people their quirks.

Or, I should … just be myself.

Here is a personality trait of mine. I mask some of who I really am at first and set an expectation that is unrealistic. It’s happened before. I promised myself it would not happen this time. So I’m not sorry I busted his chops. I should have a partner who can roll with the real Michele, not the introductory nice one.

Because “Michele” and “nice” are not always “synonymous.” (This is where you would LOL.)

….in which we learn to hate online dating

It is not easy being 40 and single. My days of clubbing and random bar pick-ups are long gone. And truth be told, it was never my thing even then.

How does an educated grown woman meet like-minded single men? Enter online dating … and then promptly exit stage left.

I did the free profile option for a popular matching site, which shall remain nameless.

Chaos.

Ok, maybe chaos is a little strong, but that is how it felt.

My first indication that I had made an error came in the form of an e-mail from the site itself.

It said: “He e-mailed you. Could he be the one?”

The one? Are you freaking kidding me? Am I teenager in a Twilight novel? Does he sparkle in the sunlight?

News flash, I AM the one. I am my knight in shining armor. I complete me. I just want a nice someone to compliment that.

The flood gates opened. Despite my preferences for income, college education, height/weight ratio, it seemed that every breathing male on this site e-mailed me -– at once.

I shut it down within 24 hours.

I’m sure there is some magic formula to make these sites work in your favor. I have seen friends and family find successful relationships this way. I apparently need to do more research. In the meantime, it’s back to my fall back plan: country bars and AA meetings.

You just never know. He might just sparkle in the sunlight after all.