Square Peg(s)

This thought became a reoccurring theme for today’s blog so let’s just cut to the chase and not pretend any longer that this song isn’t the first thing that came to your head:

And if it didn't, then I barely knew you. So on to the first, and only, order of business: Bachelor #28. Dating site… yada yada… It’s not too infrequent that I get an e-mail from someone on one of these sites. But whenever I get the notification on my flip phone, I usually just ignore it until I can get in front of a screen with more than 12 pixels so I can fully assess their tribal tattoo and/or shaker sweater situation. I was pleasantly surprised when I got an e-mail from an actual attractive person with an interesting profile that also had 0 (zero) pictures of him in front of his bathroom mirror or holding a dead turkey. Or both. We began the process of emailing and he was able to carry on a good conversation. On more than a few occasions I’ve gotten e-mails from someone who had an amusing or worth-reading profile but then they were a complete dud in real time. Which leads me to believe that they had someone with an actual personality write their profile. But this guy had a great brain and was funny. So eventually we met in person. We have opposite schedules so we agreed to meet for coffee over my lunch hour. He dressed well. He was able to talk about actual things that aren’t boring like his highest bowling score and kite flying injuries. I had a good time. The bonus was not only did I enjoy talking to him but I also liked looking at his face. A combination as rare for me as spotting a chupacabra. In my back yard. Eating a burrito. While riding a unicycle. o.k. Maybe I took things too far with the unicycle. But I think we’re all clear on this, right?

We hung out a couple more times for coffee and lunch but eventually he decided that he wasn’t interested in pursuing anything other than a friendship with me. [insert that loser horn from the previous post.] I’m used to being the diss-er and not the diss-ee so it was definitely a bruise to the ego. I felt sorry for myself for a hot minute(s) because it is so frustrating when you meet someone you dig and it just doesn’t work out. But I got over that relatively quickly. We can’t all be everyone’s cup of tea no matter how fabulous we think we are. He is certainly entitled to feel the way he does and if it doesn’t work for him then that's way-o.k. with me. I'm sure I've said this before but I don’t have any interest in putting forth effort trying to fit anybody’s square peg into my round hole. Been there. Done that. It sucks. Won't do it again. However, we did still agree to be friends and actually had a really nice lunch the day after this friendship conversation. He seems like a pretty swell guy and I could see us being franns and if that’s the best I get out of this date-a-thon (free enchiladas not withstanding) then that’s not too shabs.

I was supposed to go on a date with Bachelor #29 this past weekend. He kept suggesting we hang out at his house for the date. I resisted the urge to tell him to go fuck himself because it was evident that fucking something was what he had in mind. But instead I politely turned his offer down. So he cancelled our date entirely. Obviously that was going to be my next move anyway but he beat me to the punch. However, there is hope. I have been contacted by a guy with a gigantic wolf mural on the hood of his truck, another guy posing *in* a port-o-potty and another whose interest was listed as "drawing women". (I smell a Christmas card rendering!) I bet this is what Jesse Jackson really meant when he advised us to keep hope alive. So, my search continues finding the right guy who has the perfect round peg for my perfect round hole. 

Great [Big. Really, Really Big.] Expectations

o.k. I've kept you in suspense long enough!! Or did you forget about my cliffhanger from my last blog post 6 months or so ago? Well nevermind then. I guess that plan backfired. Like so many other things in my life... my hopes, my dreams, my attempt at wearing royal blue skinny jeans... Now, what were we talking about? Oh yes. Let's get to it.

I happened upon Bachelor #27 on a dating site - of course. He had 2 profile pictures. One was from the neck up and he was very cute. The other was of him on a snowmobile and he was dressed in all black. (This information will be useful later on in the post.) He & I e-mailed back and forth quite a few times and he was super cool and interesting. Then we took that party to the flip phone. We had quite a bit in common and had great conversation. Aside from him referring to his and my kids as "shorties" 100% of the time, there weren't too many things that were a turn off. A bigger issue was the fact that he lives about an hour & a half away. So planning a time to meet up was not particularly easy. But after a couple weeks of exchanging communication we scheduled to meet up on a Friday night. Which was rather nice of him to drive an hour & a half away right after work on a Friday. Personally I would have said "fuck that noise" and gone home to take a nap.

Now here's where things get tricky. I was really looking forward to meeting this guy so it was much to my chagrin when I walked into the restaurant and saw a guy who was approximately 400 lbs. and I'm not even fucking around. In fact, I even did a google search on what a 400 lb. man looks like and I think my assessment is pretty spot on. I don't want to sound superficial but I was totally disappointed. In a nutshell, this is what I was thinking:

I know I'm a woman with a little extra junk in ye olde trunk but this was way over the top. Also, he was wearing Birkenstock sandals and believe me when I say that the straps on those things were being tested to their limits. His pictures were totally not representative of what he brought to the table. Oh, and speaking of tables, when we sat down in a booth he literally had to shimmy the table several inches in my direction to fit in. Also, his profile said "a few extra pounds". This was more than a few. I don't want it to seem like I'm trash-talking Louie Anderson's body double here but I just was not physically attracted to someone with so much... girth. In all the wrong places. But, despite all that, I decided to make the best of it. We actually had great conversation. We discussed shorties at length and he told me about the band he's in. He said that their band wanted to do live shows but he didn't want to do that until he loses 300 lbs. Yes, he totally said that. Anyway, despite being a very big guy he was still a pretty confident person. He had a good sense of humor and was really nice. After dinner we went out for drinks and hung out until bar close. Basically, it was a good date.

So therein lies the conflict. I met this guy who I thought was pretty cool but I was nowhere near attracted to him. And it is certainly not my place to ask him to stop off at the Bariatric Treatment Center on the way home from the combination Pizza Hut/Taco Bell. I want someone to accept me for who I am; flaws and all. That's what everyone wants, really, and everyone is certainly entitled to that. This was just too much for me though. I didn't jump the gun and kick him to the curb; he and I did continue to email and text for a few weeks afterwards. But between me not being sure if I would be able to move past the weight/attraction issue and him not living very close, it just fizzled out. And I'm o.k. with that. But, in the spirit of big men, here's an awesome backwards clip of Chris Farley. Totally a guy I would have let take me out for pizza and cranberry vodkas.

I'm just really excited to be about done with this dirty thirty dating thing. I am inching my way closer and expect to wrap up in the next 2 week or so. No cliff hangers this time though. Just some good 'ol fashioned blogging! (For another 2 weeks or so.)

Up Up and Holy Shit I Couldn’t Wait To Get Away

This snippet right here should juuust about sum up my date with Bachelor #26:

This guy was a really nice person but he would *easily* score solid 10s in a dull competition. He’d probably even get some 11s and 12s. He could have just been nervous but that’s what liquor is for. So I would have assumed that the 5 PBRs he downed in a relatively short amount of time would have livened up his personality – if it, in fact, existed. Let’s get Angela Lansbury on the case. I kid… I wouldn’t want to do that to her. If she’s still alive, that is. Anyway, I tried really hard to extract conversation from him and, at times, he was able to form movements with his mouth and get words to come out. But it was not easy. He did tell me one story about how, two short years ago, he was married, owned a house and owned a semi-successful business with his best friend. But all that was lost when his wifey started spreading her love (and legs) to the best friend/business partner – and the best friend/business partner’s wife. Very sad and I felt bad for the guy. But kind of an interesting story nonetheless. Otherwise, most of the evening was spent looking around at stuff and, literally, talking about the weather. I feel like I’m pretty good at being able to engage in small talk and have the ability to schmooze with just about anyone. But this guy was making it really hard. And no, that is NOT what he said. Actually, if he had said that it would have been indication of a mild sense of humor.

Sadly, the best part (for me, at least, because I’m an asshole) was learning that he is an avid kite flyer but has not flown a kite since he fractured his rib while flying a kite a few months ago. Really? I’ve known people who have fractured ribs in snowboarding or football accidents but I’ve never heard of someone suffering an injury tossing a piece of fabric on a string into the sky.

Anyway, this date was so uncomfortable and brutal. After about an hour & a half of struggling to have a conversation he asked if I wanted to take our [world’s saddest] party to the outside patio. Actually no. I really do not. But, like an idiot, I said yes but that I had to go in about 20 minutes. I only made it 10 more minutes though. I take back that the kite flying story was the best part of the date. Me going home was the best part.

So anyhoo, I had a date with Bachelor #27 over the weekend. It was good but there's just one very large catch. But you will just have to wait to find out what it is. That's what we in the business call a "cliffhanger". So stay tuned...

Yesterday’s Date: Brought to You by Awkward Touching™

I had a date with Bachelor #25 yesterday. This won’t be a terribly interesting post because he didn’t appear to be crazy. Plus, I kept it to lunch during the work day instead of drinks at night. That’s when the real freak comes out. Anyway, he hit me up the other day when I was trolling a dating site. He reminded me that we had been chatting a few months ago but then I stopped responding to him. The first thing I thought was “What creepy thing did you say to turn me off?” But I kept that thought to myself. We chatted online for a while and he appeared to be fairly normal. We exchanged numbers and he was appropriate in both the frequency and content of his text messages. No too shabs. Man, it’s a sad day in paradise when things like this are noteworthy. Anyway, he seemed pretty nice so we met at the local Chipotle.

When he got there I went in for a handshake, he went in for a hug. Awkward hugging ensued. We sat down for lunch and were having a pretty decent conversation. He asked me questions and listened to the answers. He didn’t say anything too “the fuck?”. However, at some point he started touching my leg with his. At first I thought it was accidental so I moved a few times to give him some more leg room. I even gave him the “oh, sorry.” and then moved my leg out of the way. But then he’d juxtapose to go back to the leg touch again. He did this a minimum of, let’s say, 6 times. Now, I watch Tough Love: New Orleans and I’ve heard all about this “touch a guy so they know they’re interested” fad. But I just wasn’t on board with the physical contact. It could have been worse though, I suppose. Much worse. Like the guy who came up to me at a bar holding out his hands and telling me that his hands are scales and asked if I wanted to know how much my boobs weighed. He could have done that. So I guess I’ll let this slide. We finished lunch. He added a second awkward hug to the docket and we went on our way.

By the by, I did some googling to find an awkward hug .gif and, surprisingly, I found a ton of videos on hugging how-tos. Here's a fun quiz: What's worse than an awkward hug? An awkward video about awkward hugging. Exhibits W, T & F:

That’s about it. Not really a lot to report here. Again, ANOTHER nice guy but there was no chemistry from my perspective. And, for all I know, not for him either.

By the by, I did respond to the artists’ rendering profile picture’s [see below] e-mail the other day. Just so I could be like “What’s the deal with your picture, guy?”. He said “I have a sketch instead. Keep in touch!” derp. No shit you have a sketch. But let’s get down to the meat of the matter: why? Whatever.

So anyway, I only have 5 more bachelors to go. hollerrrrrrr!! What are the chances I’ll meet the love ‘o my life in final stretches of this blog? Not likely? Alrightey then. Well, if the next 5 don’t work out I’m treating myself to an all-you-can-eat buffet with boob hand scales guy.

Impromp-Two-Four

o.k. Bachelor #24 here is a gray area bachelor and I know it. But it involves all the elements of a date: a guy, free drinks, strippers, regret… And so, since I’m going to share this story, I'm also going to count this towards my date count. And you'll like it!! Well, hopefully you do.

Recently I went out with a friend of mine. (You know who you are… hey girl!) At some point her mom and uncle (well, technically uncle’s brother but they call him uncle) met up with us too. Her mom, uncle & I were getting along great, having a fun time and some funny conversation. We were discussing relationships and whatnot. It actually started with my friend telling them about my blog and that led to my friend’s mom telling me that women always think that uncle man is a player but that he’s totally not. I told him that women probably think that because he looks high maintenance. I suggested he might not throw off that vibe as much if he stopped dressing like the lead singer from Nickelback. I can guaranty you ‘ol dude has a perr of these:

He was wearing a cowboy-ish type shirt, embellished-pocket jeans that were most likely from the Buckle and some novelty bling. I let him know that most ladies don’t like when men wear more joo-ry than they do. I suggested that he lose the wood bead cross necklace and bracelet and wear a less flashy shirt. I suggested that, if women think he’s high maintenance, he should probably wear more of a plain shirt; maybe just a nice, solid color t-shirt, also he should perhaps invest in some elastic-waist tapered jeans from the Farm & Fleet and, obviously, top that off with some Crocs. Women would NEVER. EVER. think he invests too much time in his personal appearance. I was totally joking around about all of this. Well, I was 90% joking. Anyway, it was a fun night.

Fast forward 7 days and the 4 of us were out again. When I first rolled up on the scene he was quick to point out to me that he took my advice by wearing a plain-ish t-shirt and he ditched the bling. I gave him props and informed him that he should prepare for the 6 month supply of labia that would probably be thrown at him henceforth. Anyway, the night was really fun and drinks were flowing . Really flowing. He was buying me drinks. I bought him drinks. We were joking around a lot. All the sudden the lead singer of the Nicelback cover band here started looking pretty good to me. (He does have a really great personality, by the way, so it wasn’t just the beer talking.) At any rate, I had a pretty nice buzz going. The show we were at was wrapping up and he asked if I wanted to go out afterwards. I told him that I had ridden with my friend so he asked if we all wanted to go out. My friend & her mom didn’t. So we made arrangements for him to drive me home and my friend & her moms left. Uncle Bachelor #24-ish and I then took our party to another bar down the block and had a really pleasant conversation about relationships ‘n such. He told me about his marriage and divorce and how his work takes a toll on his relationships. Anyway, it was a nice conversation so it just felt right when he suggested we take our evening of mystery and intrigue across the street to the low-rent strip club. Fast forward to me not only having a beer thrown down my gullet but his tongue as well. Hi. My name is Toby and I’m a(n) (almost) middle-aged woman making out with my friend’s uncle at a strip club on a Thursday night. Oh well, it was fun. We left the bar and dropped $20 on some street vendor hot dogs while he heckled some cops that were parked at the corner watching for drunk drivers. So, he may as well have just said “Hey guys… you wanna pull me over in about... oh, say, 5 minutes?” Dumb. So I drove us home. And I went inside my house. Alone. okay? The next morning I opened my eyes to the view of a half-eaten hot dog on my night stand table. Not one of my finer moments but it was a fun night so I’m not going to complain.

By the way, for research purposes I googled 'half-eaten hot dog' and actually found this. I wish I would have been as excited about it as this kid:

I was supposed to have a date with Bachelor #25 last week. We had been texting quite a bit for about a week and I discovered that we both have seniors at the same high school. There was a meeting at the high school the night before we were supposed to go out so I was able to get a sneak peek at him in person. Aaaaand a sneak smell. I saw him and introduced myself and I was overcome with the… aroma? He smelled like he had just run a marathon through wine country. Tremendously bad body odor and, clearly, booze on his breath. It was really gross. Also, he had off work that day so it's not like he was just coming from his job working in the bowels of a hot coal mine that also served gin. Or something like that. Then, as we’re all waiting in line for the caps & gowns he starts talking to me about how he doesn’t like being alone and asking me if I want to get married again. Sorry guy but I really don’t feel like discussing my hopes and dreams in a line filled with my daughter’s classmates and parents. Also, you smell terrible so I think I’ll come back another day for the cap and gown. c-ya.

Lastly, as I had mentioned in one of my previous posts, I took myself off all dating sites but one and that’s only because I invested the 6 month fee and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to try and get the other 6 months for free. But then, since I’m not on some of the other priceless gems that are dating sites, I miss out on the hilarity of all those creepy dating profiles. So, the other day I decided to take one for the team and open up one of these profiles again. It wasn’t long before the likes of LonelyRepoMan and RomanticYoungerLover hit me up. Literally, like 5 minutes later. I also got an e-mail from this guy and this was his only picture:

Needless to say I’ll be compiling one of my patented WTF posts in the next couple of days. My gift… to you.

Two Guys and a Cup. Of Hot Chocolate.

I'm going to keep this brief because, if I don't, I'll continue to allow myself to suck at updating my blog. I had 2 (two) dates in 1 (one) day a couple weeks ago. And here is the sordid tale:

Bachelor #22 & I exchanged e-mails back & forth for about a week or so. He seemed a little goofy but not cray cray. We made plans to meet at the local Alterra coffee shoppe by my house. However, a night or 2 before our pre-scheduled rendezvous, he sent me an e-mail (that I did not get because I was out) asking me on a last-minute date to a play he had 2 tickets for. That didn't work out and we just met for coffee. So, I see his face and... how do I put this delicately? He had. A moist. Abrasion on his face. It was unappealing and very distracting. But, being the trooper that I am, I proceeded. I asked him about that play that he had invited me to and he told me it was about a 4-year-old who has an imaginary friend that is addicted to cocaine and did some other creepy shit. Glad I missed it. Also, he's a painter and he told me how he gets so deeply involved with painting that he blocks everything out. He said that, once, he was painting intensely and caught the tail end of someone telling a dirty joke. That's when he turned around to yell at that person for interrupting his groove with said joke and realized that it was just the voices in his head. And, I’m serious when I say that he was serious. Well, you are not going to believe this but I decided not to pursue a second date with this gem. Which, I’m guessing, would likely to have been at a coffee shop in a psychiatric hospital.

I'll stick with 'ol Bob Ross for my painting/painter needs. ah... his voice is so soothing...

So, I left there and drove to meet Bachelor #23 at a different Alterra down by the lake. Guy is a professional photographer and owns several studios in the greater Illinois area. (But lives in Wisconsin) Even though his job is to take pictures of people all day long and he has the fanciest of cameras at his fingertips, he still only had 1 picture of himself on his profile. It's always a little sketch but it is what it is. So, we meet and his profile picture is clearly several years old. Also would it be mean if I mention that he had a skin tag the size of a peppercorn on his face that he kept rubbing? Well, I'm going to say it because it's true and it's how I feel. I don't know what the deal is with guys and shit on their face this particular day. Anyway, he was super fidgety and talked a whole lot. He rarely asked me anything about myself and, when he did and I'd answer, he'd interrupt me to talk about him. I've experienced this with a few guys so, once I see this as a pattern, I basically just shut my yapper and wait for them to stop talking so I can go home. Which is exactly what I did.

Needless to say, I was glad I slammed these mo foes out and was home in time to enjoy the rest of my day. Moist abrasion and peppercorn free!

Premature E-Blog-Ulation

I guess I posted this before I was done. But since I'm neglecting my blog so much I didn't even notice. mwa mwaaa... Anyway, in addition to slacking in general, I started a new job that I love and, until today, haven't been able to dick around a whole lot. Certainly not enough to update my blog. And, when I'm at home, I have tons of Judge Judy episodes to catch up on which keeps me pretty darn busy. You know she does 2 new episodes - EVERY. DAY. Aaanyhoo, I am 4 bachelors behind in this mutha trucka so let's get to bees wax already. I had a date with some dude and he is Bachelor #21. There’s not much to report here. He & I texted a lot and he called me. Which is nice. Lots of guys like to keep things textual but fellas, here’s a tip: Girls like a guy who doesn’t mind giving you a ring on the flip phone once in a while. Anyway, he was also a graphic artist which, I’m sure you picked up as an interest of mine when you saw the profeshunal logo for my blog here. We also determined that we both really enjoy beer. He doesn’t get out much so he didn’t really have any suggestions on where to go. So, I suggested a place I like that has a great beer menu.

Thinking of you too, fella! xoxoxoxo

So, he called me when we were both on our way to ye olde date to ask for directions. I think he might only really know the way to and from work. So we were talking. blah blah blah directions, blah blah blah, racial epithet, [record scratch] Now, I would never defend a racial slur - ever - but he was using it in reference to himself as a white man. However, no matter what, I just really dislike when people use offensive terms in general. Call me a prude. So I asked him about it and he totally didn’t get why I was al “uh… did you just say…” I think he just did not know why some might consider that offensive.

But we were about 3 minutes away from the bar so we met. I mean, there’s beer there. So, I get there and he’s pretty cute. He had a bunch of tattoos which I like. And not dumb ones like the Tasmanian Devil. He was completely blown away by the beer menu. Did I mention that he doesn’t get out much? Anyway, we got along well but conversation wasn’t free-flowing. There were some awkward pauses and there was a lot of pretending to look at the beer menu more. He also used double negatives which is kind of a pet peeve of mine. I don’t got no idea. So… then you *do* have an idea. It is just… nothing? Anyway, there was no spark and, fortunately, he knew I had plans to meet up with friends so it was a good excuse to end at a reasonable time. We said our buh byes and I went home. Followed by falling asleep on my couch and being late meeting my friends out.

So, another bust but at least I got a few beers out of the deal. And that always turns a frown upside down.