Thursday, January 13, 2011

Oh yes it's ladies night...

That song is playing in my head. Not the awesome Kool and the Gang version, but the horribly EPIC version sung by Jon Lovitz in The Wedding Singer.

In light of the emotional roller coaster that has been my personal life, I called a summit last weekend. I scheduled it for this Saturday. Yep, a ladies night. I am not even sure WHICH of my ladies are appearing (although K-MC and Maverick are confirmed), but it doesn't matter. I only need to have one of these maniacs around to ensure that shenanigans will ensue!

To show you some of the planning that goes into a ladies night, I am sharing a text message conversation between myself and K-MC.

K-MC: I don't know what I'll wear. Maybe just jeans and a shirt, I don't want to fall down and flash people.
Me: That's how I introduce myself.

Yep, I like to keep it classy and dignified. The last time I was at this particular establishment with K-MC, it was my 39th birthday. One of my fondest memories of that night is looking over to see K-MC sling a rugby player over her shoulder and pretend to carry him out of the bar. K-MC is one of those incredibly feminine and pretty women that can totally act as a bodyguard should the need arise. I heart her for that!!

There's really no point to this, except that I promised myself I would blog more frequently and HELLOOOOOO!!! LADIES NIGHT!!! WOOT!!

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

What are you doing on Valentine's Day?

So, quite QUITE some time ago, I was doing that whole online dating thing. Remember? I'm fairly scarred by it, so I'm sure you do!

While on a heavily advertised site that supposedly matches you based on your compatibility. I was matched with a man I shall call "Beret Boy" because as I recall, he had a beret on in his profile picture. So, Beret Boy and I exchange an email. He tells me he thinks I'm stunning. Considering my profile picture is a picture of me drunk, with girlfriends (faces blacked out for the sake of their security AND their pride!), I'm pretty sure this guy likes his women slightly simple looking. Nevermind. We're super compatible! It says so!!

Turns out he works with troubled children. I assumed there was some level of education involved in that, but it turns out not so much. By the 4th email, I had learned that he had 2 grown children, was friends with his exes, had a head injury that gave him seizures, he didn't drive because he wasn't allowed to, he waxed poetic but couldn't spell, AND, he was trying to book me for Valentine's Day. Which was 4 or 5 months away. You guys, I had never EVER met this man!! Aside from his wordy emails (which I responded to with variations of "really? hahaha" or "no kidding? lol") we had never spoken.

Let's get into the shallow side of things for a sec. I'm no tall skinny supermodel by any stretch, but I do alright with the men. Meaning, I have standards! lol. You all know I like a big man with broad shoulders and that a bit of a tummy is ok. When I say a bit of a tummy, I do not mean something that sits on your lap like a pet cat. I mean just a bit of nice warm tummy to curl up next to on cold nights! I quickly realized that even on this super-scientific matching site, when a man has only face shots, you should worry. He sent me a picture you guys. He sent me a full body shot. I mean a FULL BODY SHOT that should have been blurred, but it's kind of ok because basically everything was obscured by what was a lot more than just a bit of tummy.

So, to summarize: VERY heavyset man, ready for his own A&E show. History of head trauma (can I refer you all back to One Ear/One Eye and remind you why I am slightly leery of head trauma in my dating choices?!?!). Overly attached and enthusiastic. SENT ME AN UNCLOTHED PCICTURE!! Still, was I running for the hills? Not just yet. That happened on Day 4 of the email exchanges.

He had a pattern of sending me MANY messages (at least one every hour, several times a day) and he seemed to understand that I would respond to all of them with just one message of my own. Until Day 3, when apparently he had decided we were ready for a commitment. The emails were coming 4 or 5 every hour. I didn't even want to read them. It was akin to Stewie Griffin's version of love letters. Each mail would have a 4 word sentence. "Hi :)" or "You're so pretty" or "You're so smart. I'm so lucky". Obviously this was a bit off-putting. So I did what I always do in situations where men are pressuring me romantically - pretended he didn't exist. When his messages were met with silence, he turned the Creep dial to 9 and started asking why I wasn't responding. So I explained that this level of attention was too much for me, that I had a family AND a life and could not respond to 39 emails a day. That I was just frankly not that interested, and perhaps he should look for someone more in line with his personality. Of course he became offended and told me no one else came even close to me. (ummm huh?).

So, long story short...I just quit emailing him after that. After about 6 weeks, he sent me one final attempt at communication. This one saying "I understand your point. It's been awhile since I was interested in a woman with children. I'll leave you alone, but I'll be at (redacted) Restaurant on Valentine's Day 2010, hoping you'll join me."

Sigh. You guys, what does it mean when THIS is what I am matched with by a scientific matching system?!?! This means I'm the problem, doesn't it?!! It's ok, you can tell me!!!

Bad Blogger

I am a bad blogger. Really, with this whole only dating the Frobbit thing I've been doing, life is boring. I can't really blog about the Frobbit and all of his CRAP (and sweet mother of pearl, is there a lot!!) until after we finally call it quits on this mess...so until then, I will just discuss the fact that I am not sure why I date him. So let's discuss:

He's short. Since when do I date short men? (FYI, if you look at the picture, he looks tall but I'm 4'11 - and a half! so he's not that tall, I just make French Hobbits look tall!!) I've now realized why I don't date short men. There really is such a thing as short man syndrome. I didn't think it was true, but it totally is!!

He's French. Now listen, my dad is from NB and I grew up with a dislike for Francophones ingrained in me. I admit that at first I found the accent ANNOYING but now I like it. On the few occasions he speaks French in front me, I actually quite enjoy it. Now that I know that "poussette" is a term of endearment and does not mean go kart or squawky chicken, I quite like it. Although I confess that I made such a huge deal out of him calling me a squawky chicken that he no longer calls me that. Sad face!

He's not my "type". Do you see a soul patch on that mug? A scar? A shaved head? Are there bulging biceps and tattoos? Nope, not a one. He is also not social. At all. The man hates going dancing, going to a pub, going to parties full of my crazy friends. He is definitely not an extrovert!

He's broken. Guys, remember when I said I would no longer date projects? I inadvertently found the biggest project in the history of the world. Like, broken on epic proportions. He's chronically commitment-phobic (worse than I am even!!), doesn't show affection easily or say sweet things very often and I won't even start on all the past emotional traumas he's had. Which of course means I am probably madly in love with him, right?

On the flip side, he does have good traits. He's FABULOUS with my littlest spawn and the big kids like him. He has no issues with telling me when I'm being a smidge bossy (I know, it's shocking that I could be at all forceful, right?). When we hang out and sit on the couch, which pretty much accounts for 98% of our time as a couple, it's very comfortable.

Why must I turf him? He just can't get his Frobbit life together. That and the fact that he lied to me about some important issues for almost a year...and that he has an ex that is apparently never, EVER going to go away. To the point that I am no longer sure she's actually an ex.

Sometimes, in the blog world, we just write things to get them off our chest or to see it in print and realize just how black and white an issue is. This, I think, is one of those times.

All I can promise is this: When the Frobbit and I are done, I will itemize every single reason he's a jerkface. Although it will make me feel stupid, the cathartic side of it is too valuable to pass up.

This also means that I will likely start dating again...and you all remember how bad my dates are, right? Which reminds me, I have more dating stories of times past for you!!