IS IT ME OR IS IT THEM?

In my previous post, a brave anonymous reader left the following comment, “You are a freak and a weirdo. Same story over and over. It may be time to accept the fact that its you and not them.”

So for this post, I’ll let you be the judge. Here’s the background. I went out of town to meet her for the first time. We seemed to hit it off. There was a definite physical connection and because of that, I can no longer say that the number of women I’ve been with I can name on one hand. Yet on my last night, she told me I wasn’t what she expected but that maybe I’d grow on her. Ugh. That was it for me. I didn’t want to have to grow on her or anyone. I was mentally done. Another case of ‘just friends.’

After she came back home to South Florida, we hung out quite a bit. Yet she ran extremely hot or extremely cold. She was hot when we were together but then felt guilty about being with me due to her religious beliefs and the fact that she was vegan and I wasn’t. She’d insult me one minute then love me the next. I tried to remain forgiving but eventually it was too much for me. I don't need negative people in my life. This was our final email conversation. So I pose the question to you all. Is it me or is it them?

FRIEND: todd, i am sorry to say this to you but you are one of the least intelligent man i have ever known. now you must face this every day and get yourself in emotional drama, for what? i am glad that i am over you, way over. i can't stand your emotional reason, no logic, no nothing and based only on your mind. When i go out with you, i often thought this guy who purchased tons of make up stuffs to send to someone who did not give him even a kiss, spent in ordinate amount of money for an air head just so that she could stay for a week, wined and dined someone so that at the end she married someone else, and here someone who loves him, made love to him and be there almost every step of the way, yet he could not spare 25 bucks to get her a ring. i can never forget that. no, not that i am poor or anything but that day marked something in me that i finally understand. and that is, men love to chase and often forgot the gold already in his possession. I don't care who you will meet, you never find a second person like myself, never in a million year. i am in love with charlie -- and i am saying this to help you open your eyes and see things clearly for a chance. we will never be back to where we were -- not that you care – thanks. God that now I also don't care.

ME: Who's fucked up? Me or the woman who loves me one minute and hates me the next? The one who asks me to the beach and kisses last week but tells me she loves someone else this next week. The one who is constantly on again off again? You have made it clear enough how little you respect me or like me or whatever. I get it now so please do not email me anymore. And one more thing. I TRIED to pay for your ring but they didn't take American Express. I've been called many things but never cheap. I would have paid for it if I could have.

FRIEND: Love comes very suddenly ... and I do love you as a friend. we will always love each other as friend and still have the 'hot' for each other I think. I did not know about the american express and I am sorry but that event made me felt like shit for a very long time. I am here as your friend and I won't go any where, sorry.

ME: You said, "we will always love each other as friend and still have the 'hot' for each other I think." How can you possibly think that after just telling me, "you are one of the least intelligent man i have ever known. i am glad that i am over you, way over. i can't stand your emotional reason, no logic, no nothing and based only on your mind." Not to mention all the crap you said about what I spent my money on. OK. I didn't buy you that ring. I already told you it was because they didn't take my credit card. So that pissed you off and you never told me about it. Think about this before I go away. Did you ever ask yourself did you ever pay a penny for anything while you were with me? I think I pretty much paid for everything. I can't love someone who continues to insult me and my intelligence or lack of intelligence as you believe. I mean it. Please do not write me again. Friendship is over.

FRIEND: we have been through alot and all friends quarrel. i often speak before i think and this is something i must work on but throwing a great friendship over words is silly. after all i stick by you regardless of whom you love or don't love. that should speak plenty what kind of friend i really am to you. any way, in my heart you are my friend regardless what you say that i am not.

SITUATION RESOLVED

Our post-Moose Party was at a small pizza bistro. The question was asked. I went last. Her friend said she wanted a house in Germany. Next. She wanted to be able to swim, dive, and snorkel and not have to work. Next. I knew what I wanted; I just didn’t know how to phrase it properly. Once I said it, I couldn’t take it back. So I sat for a minute thinking. I knew I could think of something else I wanted and just avoid it all-together. But that’s not me. I understood the consequences and readied myself for the predicted letdown. I looked at her friend and said, “I want to get to know her better.” And that was the truth. That’s all I really wanted. It wasn’t meant to be a typical male smart-ass sexual remark. We’d been hanging out for the past month or so and having a great time doing a lot of fun stuff. It was easy. It seemed natural. I wanted to continue and build our friendship.

But the look on her face said it all. She didn’t have to say anything and as much as I tried to hide it, I’m sure my face expressed my disappointment. Sure there were complications and I’m a swell and funny guy, but as I’ve previously said, it boils down to pulchritude. It wasn’t there for her. I wasn’t her type. No huge surprise for me. I mentioned the subtle clues. Clues I’d second guess and wonder about because often times, from my misguided point-of-view, there seemed to be a connection. But I’ve been here before. Déjà vu. Smart, funny, classy, cultural, and attractive. The whole package. Or so I thought. The big difference this time around though was that she was actually available which wasn’t the case with my previous failures.

I think having gone thru this for the 4th time in four years, I have now realized that women in their early 30s won't likely be physically attracted to me. Although 46 is just a number, and no matter how I might think I don’t look, feel, or act 46, there are a lot of perceptions younger women have about that age. And it's not like I seek out women in their 30s. I don’t. Of the last four women I’ve dated, three have been with women in their 40s and one was 50. But I just seem to bump into these early 30s situations. And when I do, I end up with a one-sided connection. So what I've finally gotten through my thick skull is that I have to dismiss any hopes of a relationship (short-term, long-term, or otherwise) with these younger women. But that’s OK because it's reality. And I do think there is a big maturity difference if I look at things objectively.

We’re still gonna be friends. After all, that’s my specialty, isn’t it? The good friend. But I think I’m handling it well. I’ve made a lot of progress from four years ago. I don’t cry anymore. And I didn’t drag out the suspense for a year. Only a month this time. Nice progress, Plantation. But I gotta get better about this hope thing. I have too much of it. It interferes with said reality. And I do get this pit in the stomach feeling as if someone had sucker punched me there and had stolen my adrenaline. I feel it when I run and when I work out. That little motivation is missing. No wind in the sails. But that’s probably typical of anyone who gets rejected. And to think, I had one of the best days I’ve had in a long, long time recently. It took the usual 2-->5 days to clear my head. Plenty of restless nights where the mind didn’t want to stop thinking. I was the King of Pain again walking the Boulevard of Broken Dreams, but I’m back to normal now. Standing me up for the concert cleared my head in a hurry.

You wanna know who I discussed this with? My soon-to-be 12 year-old son. He’s gone through girlfriend #1 and he’s already on the prowl for #2. He likes someone and he asked me if he should ask her out? I’m proud of him. He already knows my standard answer. Always ask, the worst thing she could say is no. And then I relayed this little story to him. He was sad for me and knows I had to take time to get over the disappointment and move on. He knows because I told him it’s what we must do. Apparently he did that pretty well with #1. I guess the chase continues for both of us.

DEJA VU

I’ve been here before. More than once, in fact. So I should know better. I do know better. Our lives are filled with plenty of mistakes made. The key is learning from them, isn’t it? I realize I’m hard on myself, but one of the biggest problems I have with “me” is not learning from mistakes. That requires among other things, common sense, a sound mind, and good judgment. I feel like I possess them. But for me, they are clouded by, of all things, hope.

I’m still reviewing the situation, and I know hope has no business here. I know not because of being hit in the face with a frying pan, but by keenly observing and listening. The clues are subtle but there. It's possible I'm wrong but doubtful. So by all means, I should dismiss hope and spare myself an extremely difficult letdown. I really thought I could, but now I’m not so sure. Déjà vu.

REVIEWING THE SITUATION

I thought I had this whole L-I-F-E thing figured out. This goal of mine. The chase. I wrote the ending to the book a year ago. It all made sense. The book, the chase, Life. But that was then. Something, or should I say someone, changed all that. I think.

I thought I figured out that what I’d been chasing in this so-called life was happiness. I finally learned through numerous failures that I could be content or happy on my own without that special someone. The journey took me through the highest of highs and the lowest of lows without question. But I’d made it and didn’t look back. Until last week.

Last week caused me to delve further into the definition of happiness. So what happened? Yeah, I met someone. Details omitted at this point but suffice it to say, I felt something I hadn’t felt since CBG. That’s a large statement because despite having four ‘relationships’ during the past 4 ½ years, I never had that feeling with any of those women. Sex, yes. True FEELINGS, no.

We can’t control our minds and how we feel. It just happens. The feelings are there or they’re not. And those feelings are there in your mind 24/7. It’s like your brain swells with thoughts of that person. You wonder what they are up to. You picture a smile, a moment, a memory and it’s inescapable. It makes you feel content. It makes you feel fulfilled. Honestly, I forgot what that feeling was like. I didn’t miss it and didn’t think I needed it to be happy. Now I’m not so sure.

I AM happy. I concluded correctly. But now I’m asking myself, am I fulfilled? And is that part of happiness or something separate and distinct? Can we be happy yet unfulfilled? I think so, but I’m obviously not sure. I think it’s like icing on the cake perhaps. I liked that feeling. I definitely felt happIER even if it only lasted a week. When that feeling dissipates, especially not of your own volition, it’s deflating. It leaves you feeling empty and feeling as if that lost feeling needs to be replaced.

So what now? What of the book, the chase, life? Well, as Fagin once sang in Oliver, “I think I’d better think it out again.”

THE STRAW

What was the straw that broke the camel’s back that led me to splendid hibernation? Listen my friends and you shall hear…

I gotta tell ya, this one really baffled me. It all started about a year ago. I found her online. She was attractive, self supportive, a recent divorcee with three kids, and even Jewish. We graduated from emails to phone calls to first date fairly quickly. I honestly didn’t expect much. We had some drinks, light apps, and saw a movie. Well, part of a movie. She couldn’t take the violence of The Departed so we walked out. I suppose that should have been a sign. But she was nice and we got along so it led to a rare second date.

The second date was nice. We actually sat through an entire movie this time, and we had dinner and got to know each other better. During our dinner conversation, it became clear to me that she was not mentally over her divorce yet. She told me she wasn’t ready to have a man come to her house, even just to pick her up. So my take-away here was that at this stage of the game, she wasn’t ready and I needed to give her time to figure herself out.

Fast forward the clock 10 months. I stumbled upon her online profile and decided I’d say hi. She replied back and we agreed we wanted to catch up. Ironically, right after the whole Dallas thing blew up, she called me out of the blue. We had a nice chat. She told me she just had some surgery done and that she wouldn’t be able to go out until the following week. Fair enough. I flew home that Friday and when I landed, I had a voice mail from her. She told me she was feeling a little better and to call her. I called her up and she told me she’d been stuck in her house due to the surgery and she asked me to come over. OK, it was already 9 pm and I needed to go home and change but what the hell. I told her I could make it by 10. She told me she had a secret but wouldn’t tell me until I got there.

She greeted me in her driveway clad in her pajamas. I didn’t hug her because she was sore from the surgery. We went into the house and the first thing she asked me to do was help her reposition the futon from couch to bed so she could be more comfortable. At first we sat up and chatted about her surgery. I think the correct term was umbilical hernia. She had asked me if I was squeamish and I told her that medical grossness wasn’t my strong suite but that I’d made it through Andy’s birth without passing out. And so, she proceeded to show me her scars. Now, in order for her to do that, she had to slide her pj bottoms down off her hips toward her you-know-what. I didn’t see “it” but think about it, there’s not much space between her crotch and her vagina, right? So I saw the scars and I thought sitting there looking at her scars was slightly weird. As if that wasn’t weird enough, she then told me about her little secret.

She got an upgrade. She told me she wanted her boobs back after three pregnancies. So she slid her top up and out so I could see her other scars. I didn’t’ get a full view of her new beauties, but I got an occluded view from the bottom up. She looked good and I told her so. She sat back up and we talked some more, and she asked me a point blank question. Now I at this point, I hadn’t realized I’d lost her but her question to me made me realize her disappointment in me. She asked me where was the guy who wrote the profile online because she thought I was different from that guy. The question threw me as did, I guess, the possible reason for me sitting there in the first place. I guess in her mind, she was looking for the wild and crazy guy who threw caution to the wind. And clearly, I hadn’t showed her that side of me for a myriad of reasons. Let’s take a step back here for a second.

A year ago, this woman was not even interested in dating and couldn’t have a man even drive to her house to pick her up. And now here I am on her bed looking at her private parts. I really thought the whole thing was innocent, but once again I think I misread the entire situation and I guess she was disappointed. We lay down on the bed on our backs next to each other and I proceeded to tell her a few ‘Plantation’ stories of the guy I guess she was looking for. I tried to prove to her that the guy did exist, but that I simply felt this was not the time and place for me to jump on her considering where she was a year ago and what little I knew of her since then.

I was there for around two hours and I told her I’d call her during the week to check up on her and to see if she was read to go out. I called her twice and text’d her twice. No response. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the proverbial straw. I guess she really wanted me to make some sexual advances to her. Who knew? Obviously, I certainly didn’t have a clue. Sure, you read the story here and think, “How could you miss all those signs?” Believe me, if I felt there was an opportunity, I surely would have taken it. But given our previous past and my respect for her, it honestly never entered my mind. Game over.

She even mentioned to me as she questioned me that she liked ‘bad boy’ types. Man, have I heard that a lot this year. Thing is ladies, you like bad boy types and then you bitch about how shitty men treat you. I’m starting not to feel sorry for you any more. You can’t have your cake and eat it too. Either we’re too nice or too bad. I guess I can’t win either way. I walk away from the dating scene this year as frustrated and confused as ever to the point where I’ve totally lost interest in trying. Next year is going to be a different year. For many reasons. But more on that later.

SPLENDID HIBERNATION

Yes yes, it’s time for me to make like a bear in the winter. Dating season for me is over. Heck, last year I made it to November 2nd before hanging it up. I must say that in my four years post-divorce, this is by far the worst year I’ve had. I’ve really nothing to show for all the people I’ve met this year. I have to think really hard about this, but I don’t believe I even made one friend this year. I don’t believe I’ve kissed anyone this year. And sex? What’s that?

I’ve certainly posted my share of horror stories along the way. Be it long distance or local, nothing has seemed to work for me. With long distance you gotta worry about the Russians and the Africans trying to scam you. Even with the locals, you gotta first figure out if they’re real. And the women I’ve met have mistaken my kindness and niceness for liking them too much too soon. Yes I know, I need to be more aloof, more unavailable, harder to get. That’s something I’ll work on for next year’s dating season. So for now, maestro queue the music. Pete Yorn, take it away (click video)…

Splendid isolation
I don't need no one
Splendid isolation

Don't want to wake up with on one beside me
Don't want to take up with nobody new
Don't want nobody coming by without calling first
Don't want nothing to do with you

MOVIN' ON

I’ve played the part of the fool on several occasions. It’s another one of these troubling patterns that seem to follow me around. Who’s to blame? Well, I definitely blame myself for getting into these certain situations in the first place. But, as they say, it takes two to tango. And for some reason, the women I have come into contact with exhibit behaviors and actions that one would think could only happen in Hollywood. You’ve read about some of them. And believe me, there are others I’ve yet to write about. Now I’m not a religious person as you all know, but I do think there is some sort of divine intervention happening that prevents me from meeting these women. It’s as if the man upstairs, whoever he might be, is telling me, “No, no son, she’s not the right one for you.” Here’s the latest.

“Dallas” and I have had many close calls over the past two years. Meaning, we’ve had opportunities to meet in person yet something or someone has gotten in the way. To put it bluntly, time and again, she has chosen to spend her free time with her family rather than me. Sorta makes it hard to meet, doesn’t it? Each time this happens, it drives me away from her and I lose interest because if I’m truly the man of her dreams, then why wouldn’t you choose, at least once, me over family?

Fast forward the calendar. As luck would have it, I’m in her state traveling on business. She lives about 2 ½ hours away by car. We spoke Monday and finally decided this was gonna be it. We were finally gonna meet. Her first intention was to drive after work on a Tuesday night. She wouldn’t arrive until around 2:30 in the morning but it would give us an extra night together. I was scheduled to go back home on Thursday. I did tell her that she didn’t have to kill herself Tuesday night and that she could leave Wednesday after getting some sleep. We spoke Tuesday night after her work and she was indeed tired. An opportunity missed, but I was totally OK with that and after a heavy phone sex session, we agreed she’d arrive Wednesday just about the time I would get out of work. She told me she took Thursday off, too. I decided to move my departure back one day so at least we could spend a little more time together. It was a sure thing.

But as we’ve come to know, there is no sure thing with me. Wednesday, I was excited and thought about our meeting all day. I figured she’d get here around 5 or 6 so I waited for a text letting me know where she was. Around 4, I finally got a text from her. She said she had to drive home because her grandmother (who has cancer) was really sick. Her text said she would be a little late. Now, I previously knew about her grandmother’s condition so this wasn’t a hoax, and yes, I understood. About two hours later, DG sent me another text saying her grandmother wasn’t doing well, but that she was getting ready to leave to see me. I asked when should I expect her and she told me around 9. She called me on her way and she was about half-way there. She stopped to get gas and said she’d call me back.

I didn’t hear from her until 8:45 when I got a text from her. She said she’d been on the phone with her mom and that her grandmother wasn’t doing well. I told her I’d give her lots of hugs when she arrived. She said she was close and judging by the time, I figured another 15 minutes or so. Silence. I sent her a text around 10 asking her how it was going. She replied, “Not good at all.” I didn’t call her for thinking that she was on the phone with her mom. Another 30 minutes went by and I sent her a text asking if she was still coming. When I didn’t hear anything back, I knew the answer. I finally got a text from her at 11:45 saying, “Am at home but am going to sleep for a couple of hours, wake up, and go to you no matter what.”

I don’t know what happened to ‘no matter what,’ but I’d just about given up all hope when she text’d me Thursday afternoon at 3:45. “Hey I know it’s late but will be on my way if you will still have me.” At that point, my enthusiasm was pretty much gone. Yet I told her she could come if she was up to it but she didn’t have to. She was nice enough to tell me she wanted to and felt like shit for not already being there. So I told her to come. It was 4 p.m. Thursday night was a reprise of Wednesday night. I heard nothing. I sent her a text and called her around 8 asking her where she was and if she was coming. At 9, I got a text from her telling me she had been trying to call me. Funny, my phone never rang. Another night of disappointment.

I woke up Friday morning and decided to end whatever it was we’ve been doing on and off for the past two years. I sent her a text telling her how unacceptable her behavior had been and told her not to contact me anymore. She sent an immediate response telling me her phone hadn’t been working, she tried to call, yada yada yada. It was the first time I’d heard from her since that text the previous night. She also claimed her estranged father “almost overdosed on drugs” and that she had to stay and comfort her aunt.

Yeah I know. It all sounds fishy. The grandmother with cancer, the non-working phone, the overdosed father. I know her grandmother is sick. The rest of it, who knows? The bottom line was that she did to me what so many other women had done and she, more than anyone else, should have known better. She threw at me how I hurt her by seeing other women, but I told her I saw those women because she never could find the time to meet me, instead always choosing to spend her free time with her family over me. And here again, she chose her family over me and that was the final straw.

Whether it was her choice or divine intervention that prevented us from meeting, I look at it as meant to be. I look at it as we were just not meant to meet or be together. Like I said, I think someone is telling me, “It’s for your own good.”

Believe me, I’m not getting into this situation again. I’d already told myself that six weeks ago. But I decided to ‘grandfather’ in two people who I’d already been friends with. Neither situation worked out and so I’m officially done with any long distance relationship. In fact, I’m pretty much done period. See my next post.

SNAP OUT OF IT!

Thanks Cher; I needed that. Well in this case, it was my dear friend Greek who set me straight. She’s been trying, and it’s not that I haven’t listened. I have; I just haven’t been able to properly execute. I equate it to a golf swing of all things. In golf, mentally I know exactly what I need to do, but I can’t get my body to physically execute the proper swing.

Relationship/dating-wise, I’ve been hitting a lot of hooks and slices lately. Mentally I know what to do, but again, the execution is lacking. I’ve chronicled my failures time and again. I’m basically listing all the problems when I write yet I never solve any of them. That’s why I asked Greek for help. She’s been through it all, she knows me, and she recognizes my patterns. The latter is the key really. Patterns.

I’m basically setting myself up for failure time each time. Reasons? It gets back to patterns, as Greek pointed out. Internet dating, meeting emotionally needy women, getting emotionally attached too soon and prior to meeting them in person, and long distance. I couldn’t argue with any of that. She’s read my patterned history of pen pals/friendships, courtships, and ultimately disappointments. She asked me why I continue with these patterns when clearly they aren’t working. Good question. I guess I’m stuck in the moments and haven’t been able to completely step outside myself. I need to pay better attention to what’s happening. You’re right, Greek. And although I think I’ve made baby step progress, that’s not enough. Not nearly. I’m tired of doin’ the Elvis Presley Suspicious Minds thing where I’m, “Caught in a trap, I can’t walk out.” I’m done with the net for ’07. Subscriptions canceled not to be renewed. Locals only. Plus, I need to shift emphasis back to book writing. It shall be my #1 priority for the remainder of the year. Hope that doesn’t make for boring blog writing, but you guys understand, right???

FRIDAY THE 13TH

How was yours? Lucky? Mine, not so much. First of all, it happened to be the 15th anniversary of my father’s passing. That weighed heavily on my mind all day. And then things started to happen. It all started at the movie theater. I took Andy to see Fantastic 4/Silver Surfer. I had made a comment about the people behind us not liking the Jackie Chan movie preview. Andy didn’t hear me so I moved my head closer to him so he could hear me. He did the same and we clunked heads. That clunk broke my super-glued glasses that I repaired the day before when I broke them jumping into the pool during a game of freeze tag. Anyway, I put the broken ‘arm’ in my pocket to be re-glued later.

Sometime later, and on panic-stricken mode, I felt for the piece of plastic, or O-Matter as Oakley calls it, and it was gone. Gone! I felt around my pockets over and over and searched the seat. Nope. Now Andy and I were underneath the seats looking in the dark for an eyeglass arm. What a scene. Luckily, I found it. It slipped out of my pocket and through the crack in the back of the seat. How it fell out, I’ll never know. I decided to hold onto it for the duration of the movie.

Movie’s over; Andy liked it. We’re good. We walk to the car, we find the car, which is always an accomplishment for me these days, and I reach into my pocket for the key. No key. Panic sets in once again. I immediately think either of two things have happened. Either I left the key in the ignition or the damn thing fell out of my pocket in the theater. I was hoping it was the latter. I looked into the car window and saw no key in the ignition. Phew, one disaster averted. So Andy and I run back (and it’s quite a long run in 109 degree weather) to the theater and explain to the guy at guest services what happens. Inside, I’m panicking but I’m trying to remain cool in front of Andy. The guy at guest services tells me to look in the theater while he checks his lost and found. Andy and I run back to the scene of the crime. We do the same search in the dark we did for the eyeglasses arm. Nothing on, near, around, or under the seats. Damn. Just about the time when the panic reached my throat, the dude shows up flashing a smile and my care key. Wow, what a relief!

On the way home, I wanted to fix my glasses. Something to get me by until I get home. I knew of a Lens Crafters store so we drove to it. We drove up to it and it looked deserted. I looked at my watch. 6:03. Hours of business? 10-6. I sorta said outloud, “What is goin’ on today,” and that’s when it hit me. Friday the 13th.

All-in-all, I thought it was a peculiar day and that I at least survived. No further blow-ups. Or so I thought. Alexander Graham Bell was quoted of saying something to the effect that, “When one door closes another door opens…” Do you believe in that? I like the concept of it, and lately, it’s been applying to me. I’ve been trying to meet people as you know. One by one, they fall by the wayside, but it seems the next one happens to come along. And so it was. After the Long Island disappointment, Atlanta came along. Circumstantially and personality-wise, the two were very similar. Met on Jdate. She contacted me. Liked my looks and personality. Divorced, child, smart, funny, attractive, professional, successful, the whole nine yards. Three enjoyable weeks, plans to meet, all that good stuff. Then she got real quiet for a few days. This is never a good sign so in the back of my mind, I’m ready for anything. Not really ready, but ready. Those of you who have been there know what I mean. So today she says we need to talk and catch up. Ding, ding, ding. The trouble in paradise alarm goes off in my head. I asked her if everything was ok and she said yes. We were supposed to talk last night. I guess I got out-ranked because we didn’t. This morning, I found out why. This was once again out of the blue, and I mean way way way out of the friggin’ blue:

Atlanta: there is something i need to share with you
plantationtodd: ok
Atlanta: please wait for me to type *close* before you say anything...so you know i'm done...
Atlanta: everything we have talked about is very real for me. i think you are an amazing person, thoughtful, kind & handsome. we have a lot in common and it's very real to me...
Atlanta: that said...
Atlanta: it makes it difficult for me to share with you that i've met someone...
Atlanta: and i care for you and respect you and need to be honest with you. i wasn't looking to meet someone else. it just happened. i'm sorry.

I’ve never really had a memorable Friday the 13th, good or bad. My only recollection of a Friday the 13th is going to a Devo concert in like 1983 or something. Well, now I have Friday, 7/13/07 to file away in the memory banks. To top it off, I have to leave Andy today. I know my mind is in the negative right now, but all this is really hot off the presses. I’m finding with my new perspective on life, that it takes me about a day to filter out all the negativity and then I’m back to normal. No more being depressed; no more retaining negative thoughts; and a positive outlook to the future. Remember, this IS the new me. And do you want to know what Mr. Bell finished saying? He actually said, “When one door closes another door opens; but we so often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door, that we do not see the ones which open for us.” The new me recognizes that. And so, Mr. Bell, I await anxiously for that next door to open.

THE CHRONICLES OF PLANTATION

It’s been about six weeks or so since my return from splendid isolation, and I have to say, not a whole lot has changed which has me thinking about running for cover once again. Remember now, I have what I would consider a simple goal. I’ve dismissed thoughts of finding “The One” and have boiled it down to simply meeting someone I would enjoy hanging out with to share a movie or a dinner or what have you. Easy, huh? Well, not so much. The same sorts of patterns that aggravated and frustrated me in the first place are still, unfortunately, living and breathing. And that’s even before I’ve met anyone. It’s even worse, afterward.

Trying to find a date online is sort of like trying to find a job online. When you job search, you send out resumes to the companies that grab your attention and interest hoping. You cater your resumes to the companies that seemingly fit your needs and vice versa. The response rate sucks, and it can leave you depressed. But on the other hand, companies can actually contact you first. Most of those contacts are junk, but on those rarest of occasions, there might actually be one or two of interest.

And so, with many thanks to JDate and MySpace, I did my search and sent out resume hellos to women I thought I would have a connection with and enjoy meeting. The results? Few and far between naturally, but five returned my emails and, not counting the over-50 crowd that contacted me numerous times, three women actually wrote to me first. So if you’re ready, let me introduce to you (in chronological order) the elite eight:

1 The Scammer
2 The Marathoner
3 The Russian
4 The Reporter
5 The Long Shot
6 The Familiar Face
7 The Rocker
8 The Long Islander

Having already suffered through the West African Virus, I’m pretty good at eliminating profiles that reek of fraud. Scammer was a MySpacer. She had two pix that seemed legit, and her profile had enough detail that didn’t look to intentionally conceal anything. She was cute, 34, a local, an artist, and had an overall nice outlook on life. She said she was half-Norwegian but grew up in Miami. We did the usual exchange of emails and IMs, but during those exchanges, I’d get conflicting information from her and knew I had a fraud on my hands. She said she’d never left the States and grew up in Miami but later conversations said she visited Norway and grew up in Boulder, Colorado. Thing with these stupid scammers is that they can’t remember what they told to who. That’s the beauty of email retention and text logs. It’s all there in black and white. So I waited for her to ask me for money. She told me about her dad’s big inheritance, yada yada yada. I got sick of the B.S. and just ignored her.

Marathoner was a JDater. She actually contacted me. Like I said a rarity especially when you consider she was attractive, a good age (38), a local, and a lawyer. Things moved pretty quickly from email to IM chat to phone call. I didn’t have an immediate connection with her per se, but I thought she was someone I could hang out with. I liked that she asked me to do stuff with her. Problem for me was that I was working nights and weekends and literally didn’t have a minute. I’m sure she got tired of asking and who could blame her?

I contacted The Russian via JDate. I know a few Russian words and phrases which helped me. She was very attractive, 39, a local, divorced with a son. Things moved along nicely up to the phone stage. I thought we had a decent conversation, and it seemed we agreed that we would like to meet each other. The next day, I got no IMs from her. Very unusual. And none the next day and just like that, I basically never heard from her again. Classic internet dating pattern. I guess our first phone conversation scared her off. Who knew? Then out of the blue, a couple of weeks later, I got an offline IM from her. All I saw of the message was something like, “sorry for my silence.” I got a pop up from Yahoo for an upgrade and when I clicked it, her message was gone and I couldn’t retrieve it. Yahoo couldn’t even help me. NEXT!

The Reporter IM’d me from JDate. Once again, I was shocked that she was not fat, ugly, and old. Attractive and 36. She was a local TV reporter for a local Spanish news station. We had some nice IMs and then all of a sudden, she stopped returning mine. Just like The Russian, she vanished forever. Interestingly, I did see her on TV so she WAS who she said she was.

Long Shot grabbed my attention with her music taste. I found her on MySpace. Her age wasn’t listed, mid-thirties I guessed. Divorced, 2 boys that lived with her, a local, RN-background. Her list of music virtually matched mine. Ooh, I was in trouble. And did I mention she was extremely attractive? Trouble with these attractive women, magnified on MySpace, is that they are berated with emails from guys who have nothing better to say than, “You’re hot!” So it’s extremely difficult for me to break through that barrier of trust and prove that I’m just a normal guy that has some wit and intelligence. Thankfully for me, Long Shot believed enough in me to write me back. I’ve since tried to share with her some cool music to which, I think, she has appreciated. To date, we’re still in email stage and honestly, that may be as far as it goes. It sure would be nice to share a cool concert with her, but like I said, that may never happen. But you know me; I’ll not give up easily.

F-Squared (Familiar Face) I recognized from JDate from a couple of years ago only I found her on MySpace. She’s cute, young-looking at 40, a local, well-educated, medical field. So I wrote her and she was nice enough to write back. Me being a writer, I like it when I can get to know women a bit through writing before working up to the phone call stage. But there are no rules out there on the net, and she told me she didn’t like emails and preferred talking. So I gave her my number and waited. Work was once again interfering with my schedule, but she did call me. Only our phone conversation sucked. It was forced; she was boring; I’m sure she thought I was boring. We didn’t seem to have chemistry. I’ve not heard from her since.

My JDate profile reads like this SWM post. And The Rocker totally fit that description on paper. She was cute, tasteful punk rock-look, and even had red hair. She was a JDater whom I contacted. You guys will yell at me cuz she’s young. 30. But she’s divorced and has a kid so I’d say a mature 30. High School teacher, great music taste, but she wasn’t a local. Damn. She lived about 3 ½ hours away. Our first chat was great, full of laughs, sarcasm, and a bit of light sexual innuendo. Each chat was fun. Even our first phone conversation went extremely well. Her personality matched what she had written about herself. A walking contradiction that, as I said, seemed just what I was looking for in a woman. I had a good feeling we might get to meet. Unfortunately, she was in a tough situation being a single mom with little or no help. She talked of moving to Seattle to be with her family. She hadn’t yet made up her mind, but it appeared she too would be a dead end. More on her in a bit.

It looked like for all the world, I’d run into a total dead end. Not totally surprising given my luck. I was seriously considering taking another dose of splendid isolation when literally out of the blue, someone contacted me. As you know, I’d been working late nights and weekends where the days lasted until 1:30 in the morning. I couldn’t just go to bed when I got home so I had to unwind, watch TV, scroll for profiles, whatever. It was around 4:15 in the morning when I got an IM on JDate. Once again, I expected short/fat/ugly/old, but Long Island was far, far from that. She was blonde, young-looking, and very attractive. Of course, I’d accept her IM. Her opening line to me was something like, “My seven-year-old just peed all over my bed. What’s your excuse for being up so late?” I laughed out loud. I told her so and that I hadn’t a good excuse except that sleep wasn’t one of my strong suits. And for the next hour, we a really great conversation. I learned that she was 36, divorced, a high school guidance counselor, ivy league-educated, and really funny. She had it together, lemme tell ya. But with my luck, she lived in, you guessed it, Long Island.

The good vibes continued for nine days. Now up until Long Island, I thought I’d been a really good boy. I hadn’t forward thought about anything or anyone. No thoughts of the future. But with Long Island, that was hard, if not impossible, to ignore. For one thing, she brought it up numerous times about her struggle to choose between allowing herself to take a huge risk with a long distance relationship (LDR) or to simply say goodbye and move on. She kept telling me I scared the shit out of her because our connection was strong yet she didn’t want to relocate or have a LDR. On day nine, she wrote me about it again. We even talked on the phone later that day about it. I could really sense during the call that it was really bothering her. I really felt she was gonna tell me goodbye. Maybe she had planned to but she got interrupted by her kids. She said she was gonna call me back. I never got the call. Instead was an email saying she got ahead of herself and couldn’t do the LDR thing. She apologized and just like that, she was gone. The email stunned me although I sensed it coming. Obviously, I would have preferred a phone call, but perhaps that would have been too hard. In any event, I had forgotten what rejection felt like. Like getting rejected for a job you really wanted, it sucks.

A day later, Rocker told me she was definitely moving. So at the end of the day, when you take 1 thru 8, I ended up with a bunch of failures once again. Unwanted and perhaps unneeded aggravation and frustration once again. Do I really need this? Rejection and disappointment lead me to late night running. It gives me a chance to clear my mind. As I started my run, I thought for sure I was going back to splendid isolation. I mean, who needs to go through all this crap for a lousy date? “That’s it; I quit,” I thought to myself. But before I completed the end of my run at mile two, I had a change of mind. I’m not a quitter, and I’m not going to give up. And so, ladies and gentlemen, the chase continues…

MYSPACED

OK. I’m officially out there now. Wanna check out me out? It’s been three weeks since I put my profile on MySpace. I’ve formed some early opinions. It’s definitely NOT meant for dating. I know it’s obviously geared toward the younger crowd whose main objective might just be to see who can acquire the most friends. Jeez. I review these profiles and scratch my head. Who had 534 friends in their life? Are you serious? I think my over/under is 50. If I see anyone that has over 50 friends, I just do the MTV thing and say, “next.”

What’s my goal here anyway? Well, it would be nice to simply meet someone just to hang out and grab dinner, a movie, a concert, whatever. Am 99.9% sure I’m not gonna find like The One or anything like that (not that I’m even looking for or thinking about that). There are thousands of women in my search range of 30ish-40ish. If I select “Jewish” for religion, that figure goes down to less than 50. And by the time you sort out all the fake models and porn pix (I dunno, maybe 90%?), you’re down to basically 5.

So I take out the “Jewish” and go from there. 1,500 or so women to choose from. Gotta be SOMEONE in that crowd, right? Hmmm, not so sure ‘bout that. Like I said, after you ignore the fake models and porno profiles, you’re basically down to 150. Out of that 150, I found perhaps 10 women I thought I’d enjoy meeting or at the very least, talking to. So I did my thing. I wrote them. Three of them responded. One of the, I’ve come to detect is one of those African guys or girls attempting to rob you blind (story I’m sure to come). That leaves two; one of which I think I might actually get to meet someday. Maybe, maybe not.

Ooh, looky here, I just got another friend request. Lucky me. This one is from Belle. Amber, Belle, Daisy, Trixi, yada yada yada. Each time the profile is the same but with a different name. Denied. I’ve yet to receive an email from anyone real. I take that back. I got a nice note from a guy in Portland who found my blog. So to Jevan, I say thank you. I think, for me, my main use for MySpace will be to keep my finger on the delete button for “friends” like Belle, keep in touch with musicians and bands I enjoy, and change my song to keep my profile fresh. Speaking of which, I think I need to change my song to better represent myspace. Definitely Guns ‘N Roses,’ “Welcome to the Jungle.”

EVERYBODY PLAYS THE FOOL

“Sometimes. There’s no exception to the rule (listen baby). It may be factual, may be cruel (I ain’t lyin’). Everybody plays the fool...” from the song by MAIN INGREDIENT, 1972.

I can usually come up with my post titles fairly quickly. I struggled with this one for some reason. Maybe it’s because my brain is still scrambled from being knocked to the canvas. I never saw the punch coming. It was cleverly and brilliantly set up. I have no coach or trainer or scout. I’m not sure if my opponent had any of these either; I suspect yes. But I was clearly outmaneuvered, outpointed, and outboxed. Ultimately, this lead to my being knocked to the floor and not being able to beat the referee’s count to 10. All I remember is an image of arms waved signaling it was game over. Let me see if I can retrace for you just exactly what happened…

My record this year has been dismal. I’ve been knocked out three times this year. Still, I’ve managed to be resilient and have managed to bounce back after each upsetting loss. I think it’s very important to learn from each loss and not to make the same mistake again. With each loss, I’m gaining more knowledge and experience and feel I’m better prepared for the next opponent. I feel if I can survive the early rounds, especially coming off a recent loss, I feel confident I will break through with a much needed win.

Although confident, I had one thing going against me. A lack of experience. Yeah, I was in uncharted waters and was going on instinct. The thing is, I was this close to victory. This close (fingers together an inch apart)! Here’s the play-by-play, blow-by-blow. Maybe you can help me figure out why I lost?

Coming off another devastating loss (future post), I found her on on a random search on JDate. Her profile was extremely well-written, sincere, genuine, interesting, and filled with common interests on life, love, and music. Plus, she was beautiful. A darn-near perfect match except for one thing. She lived in far away in the Northeast. I decided I’d simply say hello and pass her my compliments, just for the heck of it. I didn’t even expect a response.

Surprisingly, I got a response, and a beautiful one at that. She thanked me and said my profile was cool, too. She happened to be online at the time I read her email so I quickly shot her an IM. We ended up trading IMs for quite some time and traded email addresses. Wow, I was actually winning the early rounds! Emails led to phone calls. Her voice was beautiful. It went perfectly with her photo. We stayed up until all hours of the night talking, laughing, sharing. A solid friendship was formed; it was a great foundation for a potential relationship. I thought I was scoring a lot of points and was surely going to win this time.

Like I said, the only thing I didn’t know was how these long-distance relationships worked because there was so much that could be going on behind the scenes. But this could be true for even local relationships. This is where trust comes into play, instincts, a good sense for judging character. Usually my strengths. After about 3 months, we finally agreed to meet. I bought a ticket around six weeks ago. I was going to meet her this Friday, December 10th. We were planning to spend the weekend together. I was going to escort her to my company holiday bash at the Four Seasons. I was excited and eager.

Around two or three weeks ago, she pulled the disappearing act. She didn’t answer my emails or phone calls. My radar was up. When she finally contacted me, I immediately asked her if she still wanted me to visit. I held my breath but she said yes. {Exhale} But then the disappearing act again. The tide was turning. I had bad vibes. I hadn’t heard from her in over a week and it was now less than a week until I was to fly out and meet her. I sent her a sort of desperate email saying I simply needed to know, good, bad, or indifferent whether she still wanted to see me. No response all day. I gave her the benefit of the doubt thinking she could have run into some trouble mentally or physically. She was, incidentally, struggling mentally with relationships, past mistakes, life’s curveballs, etc. Aren’t we all? As much and as badly as I wanted to meet her, I made up my mind. My instincts were telling me that regardless of what she might say, I was not going to meet her on Friday. The timing just did not seem right anymore and I didn’t want to force the issue. Something was not right and I was hoping she’d tell me. I finally got her email late last night.

The first thing I did was my usual pre-game analysis prior to opening it. The email file was large which meant she had a lot to say. I questioned why she went the email route rather than calling me. Hmm, large email + couldn’t call me = TROUBLE. I didn’t have to open it. I already knew. Still, I wanted to stay in there and fight and not give up on her. I wanted to win. I opened up her email and WHAM! She delivered the knock out blow. Another crushing loss. I could try to paraphrase it for you, but I think she said things best. So here you go. Her email and my reply.

-------------- Original message from xxx : --------------


Hey Todd...i am profoundly sorry in how i've been treating you...i have been very confused in a relationship thati've been in for the last two months...i just didn't want to talk about it...i don't know why...well the details..here they are...he's canadian; he came to visit me for three weeks in November..he was going to relocate here but it seemed more resonable for me to go to there for the time being as he is going to law school in the states come september and he wouldn't be able to work in there. I would be able to work in xxx through connections of his. So, I spoke to my ex and the rest of my family....got everyones blessing and poof, here i am...in xxx...i felt so bad not telling you, but this relationship has been rocky due to the stress of the situation and i, until the last moment , wasn't so sure if I was going...well, know I'm here...still unsure , but i really was so confused before i left due to so many things, especially my finacial situation that i spoke about. I have love for this man, and want to see if we could actually live together and be happy...i have a month in mind as far as my time-table of this uncertainty...so please accept my appologies and know I want to continue to be your friend with our phone calls and our music...xxx-xxx-xxxx land and will give you my cell once i get one here...for know call my old cell or the land line...hope to talk soon!

Love,
Cruella DeVille (name changed to protect the ‘innocent’)


-------------- Original message from Todd : --------------
Hi.

I want to thank you for at least contacting me. Most people have no nerve and just disappear. I just wrote about this on my website.

I know I should wait to respond and let my emotions settle, but I really don't think there's much to say. I must say that I am absolute shock right now. I told you I wanted you to be happy, and I meant it. However, I cannot believe you had neither the nerve nor the consideration to tell me. It upsets me that we spoke countless times and you made no mention of any of this. I even asked you two weeks ago whether you still wanted me to come and you said YES. Jesus, girl! And perhaps what upsets the most is that I'm pissed at myself for sadly misjudging your character. I thought you were sweet, caring, understanding, and loving. I dunno. I don't know how anyone in this world can do something like that to someone like me. I'm sorry, it's unforgivable and very hurtful.

Despite my disappointment (not anger), I do wish you well and happiness.

Have a great life.

Todd.

PS I had mailed you some Hanukkah presents to your old address. I wonder if I'll get it back or whether they'll forward it on to you? I hope you end up getting it. It's not much but it was from the heart. Even the card. Shit, I'm such a goddamn fool...