Stepping Stone

We've all heard the old adage that the best way to get over a man is to get under a new one. Well, I decided last week that I was ready to move on from Almost Perfect. I met some interesting fellows at a couple bars downtown while out with one of my best gal pals, and we hung out with a bachelor party during their escapades for a while. Well, the most interesting fellow from that evening turned out to be married- sans ring! So I continued my search by going to the easiest, fastest place to find a date: Tinder. Ugh. I know what everyone thinks of Tinder, and I'm not endorsing it. But seriously everybody is on there. The doctor I dated from Match is on there. I saw a couple guys I know from church on there. Colleagues. Neighbors. Rando's (short for "random guys"). It just happens to be the deepest pool in which to fish. 

So in my effort to move on, I met my Stepping Stone for decaf coffee on a Sunday evening. I let two of my friends know where I was going and gave them his name and pic just in case he tried to kidnap or murder me. You know, safety first. So my friend asked why we were going for coffee instead of cocktails. Didn't I want something to take the edge off? I told her that I like when a man suggests coffee because for one thing I'm not a nervous dater and as much as I love tequila I don't need it as a social lubricant. Secondly, I find that a man who buys you coffee has no expectation of your potentially getting drunk upon your first meeting and subsequently trying to take you home that night. Coffee is unassuming. 

Anyway, I scheduled my date with Stepping Stone for an hour since I had dinner plans with a friend that evening as well.  He offered to meet me on my side of town, but I picked a place near his neighborhood since I was also meeting my friend near there later. He was a few minutes late and texted me a couple times about exactly where the coffee shop was located. I discovered that he'd only been in Omaha for about 4 months so he didn't quite have the lay of the land yet. 

We chatted about our families, interests, and hobbies. Basically the typical get to know you first date stuff, seeing if we had things in common. I had mentioned that I went to church that morning and asked if he attended church anywhere. He said he went to Alcoholics Anonymous and they had a spiritual side to their program....um, that's great but not exactly what I meant. He did say that he'd gone to a church for a while in another state before he moved back, and he just hadn't really looked for one in town yet. I guess being just 60 days sober perhaps he was preoccupied. 

During our date, I happened to run into not just one but two of my coworkers! Separately. One of them being one of my bosses. Just what I want on a blind date. Oh well. My social life isn't exactly a secret. 

After a short while, Stepping Stone said he didn't want to make me late to meet my friend. Without realizing my opportunity to leave a boring date, I said I didn't need to leave for another 15 minutes. Then it occurred to me that maybe he was bored, too! Anyway, we made small talk for another 15 minutes and then I dismissed myself to get going. 

He asked me out again for the next weekend, and out of politeness I said yes. Maybe he wasn't as bored as I was! He texted me a few times during the week until I finally told him that although he seemed like a nice guy I just didn't feel a connection and I didn't want to waste his time. He thanked me for my honesty. 

Moral of Today's Story:

I don't how much going out with men I don't like actually helps to forget the one who broke my heart. But I can put Almost Perfect a little further in the past because he's no longer the last person I went on a date with. Maybe I didn't get closure from Almost Perfect, but I'm choosing to move forward and nobody can rob me of that. 

Giant Murse

Last Fall, I dated a type of man I'd already sworn off. A foreign man. An African man. I had sworn off all foreign men based on some of my own as well as some of my friend's experiences. But sometimes when you're shopping for men on the internet and you see things like 6'6" you can't fight the impulse to swipe right. One of my weaknesses is gigantically tall men. Other types of mine include: NBA sized men, football player builds, hot nerdy athletes, sexy computer geeks, authoritative business types, and male nurses. 

I know. That last one surprised me, too. But I had previously discovered there's something very attractive about a strong man who knows how to care for someone. Not to mention he specializes in anatomy and bedside manner! This man was both gigantically tall and a male nurse. 

Anyway, I went out with my Giant Murse and we had a nice time. He wasn't smooth like a lot of "player" types I'd known, but he was sweet, sincere and romantic. I was hesitant to get too involved because of cultural differences, and I told him so. I explained that I'd dated an African man before who didn't treat women with the respect I expected in a relationship. He understood my desire to take things slow and so we did. 

After a few weeks, Giant Murse and I had the DTR (Define The Relationship) talk and we were officially boyfriend and girlfriend! Things went pretty well for a while. He cooked for me. He bought me a "just because" gift. He helped with a disgusting critter situation at home once. We even dressed in matching couples costumes for Halloween, which was a relationship bucket list item for me. Then his mother decided to come from Nigeria for a spontaneous 3 week visit! Dun, dun, dun...

Apparently, Giant Murse's mother thought that he had been a bachelor for too long and that she needed to come arrange for him to meet some nice African girls here in the States. When she arrived, he told her about me and that he would decide for himself who he would date. Yeah, you tell her!

We really weren't at a "meet the family" point yet, but since she was staying with him I thought I should at least say hello once. He didn't think that was a good idea. I got the feeling she would see me as some white, American hussy trying to corrupt her son. 

While she was staying, he had to drive her around places, amend his schedule to accommodate her, and he even cut our dates short because she would be waiting up until he got home! When you're dating a 33 year old man, curfew is not something you expect to be an issue! 

He also had his nursing board exam coming up (he was making a career change and had just finished nursing school), and he dealt with A LOT of anxiety about that test. Between studying for the exam and carting around his mother, he basically had no time for me. He kept telling me things would be better when he was done with the test. Then he took the test, but had to wait two days to get the results. He wouldn't even see me in the two days before he got the results! He said he'd still be too anxious and didn't want to celebrate if he didn't know he passed. Never mind that I'm over here just being the supportive but neglected girlfriend! 

Then he got the results -- he passed! Yay! Happy days are here again! Giant Murse was an official nurse! But he wanted to wait until his mom left town to get together again! Two more days. 

Then radio silence. I didn't hear from him. He didn't respond to texts or voicemails. After a few very frustrating days, I told him that if I didn't hear from him by the end of the day I would take it as his way of breaking up with me. 

Still nothing.

A small part of me was concerned that all the anxiety he'd been dealing with had gotten the best of him and that he'd had some sort of meltdown, but he finally did text me two weeks later. He didn't have a good reason for not contacting me. Basically his anxiety had indeed gotten the better of him. He had told me before that when he was overwhelmed or stressed he tended to just shut everybody out and not respond to anyone at all. I told him that's not ok with me if he wants to be in a relationship. We texted a couple times over the next few months mostly just checking in, seeing how the other person is doing. He never really tried to get back with me though. I'm both surprised and offended by that, but I think it was for the best. 

Moral Of Today's Story:

1. Be leery of a mama's boy who won't let you near her. Mother's love me! We don't need to have dinner or go shopping together when our dating relationship has just started, but a simple meet and greet when she's staying WITH YOU might be appropriate. 
2. It's just not ok to stop communicating. Use your words! 
3. Perhaps I should trust my instincts that made me reluctant in the first place. Then I won't be kicking myself and saying "I told me so" later. 

Almost Perfect

When I started this blog a couple years ago, I had a plethora of comically awful dates that made for great stories. And you loyal readers know my motto- "there's no such thing as a bad date, just good dates and good lunch stories."  Well I've had a lot of good dates in the past year or so, but still no happy ending. Unfortunately, when the dates are good but the ending is bad it's not always a story I want to tell. 

My latest failed romance with Almost Perfect started off in storybook fashion at a costume party with dancing and drinks and even celebrating our one hour anniversary with a kiss under the disco ball. For weeks, I had fantastic dates with this charming and gallant man. I felt like the leading lady in a silver screen romance! In fact, I'm not going to go into detail now, but our times together we're so memorable that my writing energies for that month went into documenting our "love story" which would've probably been a self-published book given as my sappy groom's gift at our wedding one day. I could easily picture us growing old together. 

Ok, so you're starting to get the picture that I fell hard and fast for this guy. He truly epitomized everything I'd been looking for over the past three decades! He was sweet and considerate, irreverently funny, handsome, professional, we had complimentary features that made us look good as a couple, we shared values, ideals, and interests, etc, etc... I knew Almost Perfect wasn't perfect, but he was perfect for me.

In past relationships, I've usually had some level of reservations or concerns over things that I knew probably wouldn't play out ideally, but with Almost Perfect I had no inkling of our untimely and unfortunate ending. He showed no signs of douchebaggery. He called on the phone  rather than just texting like so many douchebags do. He made plans with me and carved out time in his hectic schedule to prioritize me. He was there for me when I had a stressful day and took me out to eat and drink whatever I wanted. He appreciated my domesticity which made me feel valued for doing things I like to do. He didn't get angry easily even when I accidentally broke a light fixture at his house. He was kind and courteous to wait staff, and generously tipped, too! (I once saw him discreetly over-tip our waitress when he found out that another table stiffed her.)  He introduced me to his friends. He met some of mine. He pursued me. Until he apparently hit the wall and lost all interest in and remembrance of me.

At one point after I had infected him with a nasty stomach flu that I'd had the week before, I hadn't seen him for a couple days. Now he was busy with work and a lot of projects so it wasn't atypical to go a few days without seeing him, but he had always been great about calling me back and making plans to see me again. So I called him on a Wednesday afternoon, and he answered and talked to me for less than a minute. He pleasantly said he was in the middle of about ten things and that he would call me back shortly...that was the last I heard from him. It's been four weeks now. 

I have no idea how this Almost Perfect man went from wonderful to MIA with no explanation. I was in shock and denial for the first couple days. They say that the five stages of grief - Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance -  apply to all sorts of losses, but my breakup stages of grief are best measured in units of alcohol, minutes spent on "revenge body" workouts, number of emotional eating binges before and/or after revenge workout, and the volume of sad Toni Braxton songs played on repeat. (Unbreak My Heart speaks to me on a pathetically personal level)

I loved Almost Perfect. I think I fell in love with him on our first date, which was a crazy good story that perhaps I'll tell another time. At first it was hard to be mad at him or hate him when all of my memories of him are good. I am mad at him now for how he took the cowards way of ending things. Somehow our culture has made it acceptable to men to "ghost" when they no longer want to put in the effort a relationship takes. I texted him the day after he said he would call me back figuring he just got busy with work stuff. Then I texted again two days later. By five days later I left him a voicemail calmly stating that I felt he owed me an explanation for why I hadn't heard from him in five days and requested that he call me back. 

Obviously, I still haven't heard anything. My friends who always have my back in a time of crisis checked for his obituary in the paper/internet since death or coma would've been the only acceptable reasons for him to disappear. At least I can say I'm fortunate to have a lot of people who care about me and I've received a variety of sympathy, tough love, and mostly good advice. I've heard a lot of "it's his loss," which is true because I'm fabulous! But I'm the one who was left to grieve the loss. Some friends have wanted so badly to make me feel better and give me advice so that I'd never hurt again, but if you're not willing to risk hurt I don't think you can find love. 

Moral Of Today's Story:

I have no regrets. I ascribe to Alfred Lord Tennyson's belief that it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. I will be cautious, of course, not to have my heart broken again, but I don't want to love out of just part of my wounded heart. Since I'm into cheesy quotes today, I'll borrow from William Purkey and say my next chapter goals are to dance like no one is watching, love like I'll never be hurt, sing like no one is listening, and live like it's heaven on earth. 

Not a chauvinist. Not a slacker. Where are those guys?

If you've been on the internet lately or turned on a tv, you've probably seen a good deal of memes and stories about women. Women play half the roles in world history, and I'm glad to see the increase in news stories about female successes in numerous arenas. Amid the cries for equality, however, I keep hearing complaints lately about chauvinistic men. Men who want their women to stay and not work. Men who think she should be home to cook and clean. Men living in the past and thinking it's still the 1950's. Men who have the gall to be the sole provider and take care of their families. And I think to myself, "Where are those men?"

Now, don't misunderstand me. I worked hard for my degrees, and I consider myself blessed to be an educated woman working in my chosen field and supporting myself. When I cook, it's because I want to cook. If I don't feel like it, nobody is upset. When I pick up dirty socks off the floor, they're mine that I dropped there yesterday after the gym. I go out when I want to, and I stay in when I want to. I fully appreciate the advantages of my single life, and I'm not looking for someone to take away all my freedom.

But seriously, where are the traditional men? The men who want marriage rather than hookups? The men who want to provide for their family? Not in a sugar daddy kind of way where I'm lying around in an expensive negligee eating bon-bon's at home while he's out earning a living, but in a "let's build a life together" kind of way. Where are the men who appreciate that I want and like to cook you a nice meal? The men who look around their bachelor's apartments and think "this place could use a woman's touch?" 

I'm not looking for a chauvinist who thinks he's smarter than me because he has a penis. I have met one or two of those. But why is the only other option a millennial mama's boy who can't get his act together?!

Perhaps we've confused the men by being too independent. We told them that we can take care of ourselves so we don't need them. In recent years there's been a far higher number of women going to college versus men and that's intimidating to some men. Now we've got a bunch of intelligent career minded women in the workplace and if they're fishing for a similarly educated man, there's a much smaller pool. Of course, degrees and education aren't job specific for the role of "significant other" but being skilled at something is an attractive quality. I'm not looking to be anybody's sugar mama either!

Moral of Today's Story: 

I don't need a man, but I'd like a man. Not a chauvinist and not a slacker. I'm a modern day June Cleaver looking for my Ward. My life is pretty fabulous as it is, and I'm going to need someone who is also fabulous on his own to take the job. I'm just not sure where he is.

I lose more earrings that way

I have a problem in my dating life which has never been addressed by Cosmo or Buzzfeed or any of Steve Harvey's relationship self-help books. I kind of can't believe that no one else is talking about it. Perhaps if another woman had shared her woes then I wouldn't have had to learn the hard way. So I've decided that I have to step up and be that woman who can spare someone else the same hardships. I am talking about losing my earrings. This is no coy euphemism. I literally keep losing my earrings!

There have been times I've somehow forgotten to put on my earrings and I've actually had my date mention disappointedly "oh, you're not wearing earrings today." This has happened more than once so now if I can help it, I always wear earrings when I go out.

Wearing the earrings out isn't actually the problem though. It's staying in where they magically fall out and get lost in the couch cushions. Just like socks lose their mates in the laundry and Tupperware lids wander off in the cupboards, earrings disappear into the abyss of flecked carpet patterns when you canoodle.

Now some of you are still not concerned because you're thinking the earring will just turn up eventually. And in many cases you would be correct. In the cases of long-term, stable relationships your earrings are safe. If you're at the point where he's buying you new earrings, you're safe.

However, it's 2017 and  we live in an age of "ghosting" and "bread-crumbing" and serious, relationship-ruining anxiety disorders! Any one of these issues may cause your boyfriend to disappear without returning your earrings that you left on an end table at his place! He might throw out your favorite hoops! Or he'll pack them up and take them to Chicago when he ghosts you. He might not have yet found your favorite pink stud in the couch! And if he finds it now, do you really think that he's going to return it?! Maybe he found it and now he likes to hold it and fondly remember your beauty...and how he royally effed up by letting me- I mean you- get away. But I digress.

Moral Of Today's Story: 
I see at least three clear solutions to this rampant earring losing.
1. Only wear your nice earrings out with your girlfriends. After all, they will be the ones who are impressed with your clearance find at Kate Spade and also appreciate how the color accents your highlights.
2. Buy cheap ugly earrings for your dates. Perhaps you'll give him incentive to buy you some nice jewelry! Or at least you won't be sad when you do lose them.
3. The best solution I could possibly come up with is from the wisdom of Bridget Jones. It was one of her previous New Year's resolutions in fact. "I will not fall for any of the following: alcoholics, workaholics, commitment phobics, people with girlfriends or wives, misogynists, megalomanics, chauvists, emotional fuckwits or freeloaders, perverts."  If we avoid all of the above, then we will always get our earrings back.

The Frenchman

When I really like a guy, I always remember what outfit or special accessories I wore with him. The next time I see that blouse or skirt or whatever  hanging in my closet I pull it out and reminisce about what special moments we had. The clothes make me think about the care I took to look nice or how he made me feel pretty just by the way he looked at me. So after I couldn't remember what I wore on my date last week, I knew it wasn't meant to be. 

The Frenchman was admittedly a rebound after the boyfriend I still have not brought myself to blog about. The thing that makes dating a French man so different is that the French culture is inherently romantic. They lavish sweet compliments and would do anything to make you happy, but they do it all before they know much about you. When he would speak honeyed words, I kept thinking, "yeah, I'm great, but you don't know that yet. Calm down!"

For example, when he said he's allergic to dairy, I said I love yogurt and I would have a hard time giving that up. He looked deeply into my eyes and said, "you love yogurt? If I'd known, I would have brought you some." 

"In the middle of a sushi restaurant you would bring me yogurt?" I asked.

With even more tenderness and still looking deep in my eyes he said, "Because you love it." 

Now, this might actually be the sweetest thing anyone has ever wished for me. Thinking that I should have something just because I love it is more than most guys have done for me.

After the Frenchman took me for sushi,  he pulled out a beautiful bouquet of yellow flowers from his car. He had asked me my favorite color earlier that day, which at the time I actually thought was a rather blase conversation topic. When I said I like pink and yellow, he responded "yellow is nice." As if he's disapproving of my other favorite! When I texted him after the date that I was admiring the pretty flowers at home and thanked him again for his thoughtfulness, he stated simply, "yellow is pretty." One of many three word texts from him. 

A lot of our conversation felt like an interview and I could sense how much he wants to find the right woman. He texted me two days after we met and asked what our next step was. Where is our relationship going?? I guess he was wanting affirmation that I was still interested, but it seemed obvious to me that he would either ask me on another date or...not. Is there really any other option??

So after some coaching,we agreed we would go out again and get to know each other better. And he picked a day one week after our first date. Then he said we could decide after our second date whether or not we wanted to be in a relationship. I kept getting the feeling he wanted to get to the bottom line.

We carried on a texting conversation over the next couple days, in which I told him that I was crocheting a pillow for a friend. He was very impressed with my domestic skills! He texted "I want to be in a relationship with you." 

I asked if he wanted to date me because of my crocheting skills. I'm not entirely sure he understood he question, but he said yes. 

I told him I still would like to go on a second date - maybe a third or fourth - before defining our relationship. He agreed...until the next day. 

The next day, he texted me that he felt I was communicating less than a few days ago and if I wasn't really interested I needed to let him know. He went on to say that he didn't want to play games and that he didn't want to drag himself into this relationship just to hit the wall. 

Let me first say that I had been texting detailed accounts of my day to give him a glimpse of who I am and what odd or interesting things I do. While his messages to me were always along the lines of "my day was good." 

So at this point I'm starting to wonder if he's bipolar or if it's common for French people to be so up and down in their emotions. Yesterday he was dying to lock this thing down, and today he's so afraid of being led on that he's demanding I turn him loose now! 

I felt offended that he would suggest I might be playing games, but truthfully I wasn't feeling a strong connection and I probably wasn't replying to him as quickly as someone I was really into. 

Although I told him - and I believe - that it puts too much pressure on both parties to try to figure out everything out after one meeting, after another 24 hours of labored conversation and the fact that I can't remember what I wore on our date, I gave him the definitive statement he was looking for. I didn't want to go on a second date. 

Moral of Today's Story:

I could probably get used to be wooed and romanced, but not if it includes a grown man acting as emotional and insecure as a junior high girl! But next time I like a man enough that I remember what I wore on our date, I'll tell him that I can crochet and see if that clinches the relationship! 

8 Simple Rules To Be My Boyfriend

There are so many things that I, as a woman, assume men know about dating or merely talking to women. I could tell a  one sentence story to a female friend and she immediately knows why I'm upset and the rationale to support my argument. When talking to a boyfriend, I have to lay out all the facts, cite my source, argue my thesis, and then he finally realizes why I'm upset. 

So for any new boyfriend applicants, here are my basic rules and expectations. I cannot claim that other women have the same set of rules for themselves. I cannot claim that this list is all encompassing of my needs. But if you have any qualms about the following, then you need not proceed any further with your application for the position. 

1. Speak my love language.  If you're not familiar with the book The Five Love Languages, pick up a copy and familiarize yourself with the "words of affirmation" chapter as that is my top love language. Love languages are just the way we feel cared for. I need to hear you tell me what you appreciate about me. You're free to choose your own phrasing or vary the compliment. In fact you'll need to vary what you say so it doesn't become trite or routine. Tell me your favorite features of mine. Or tell me how witty and entertaining I am. This goes both ways because I will also be appreciating wonderful and attractive aspects of you! 

2. Always hug or kiss me hello and goodbye. I'm affectionate. Get used to it. If we're with a group of people, you don't have to kiss me in front of them. We're definitely not going to be that gross couple that makes out in front of their friends, but there's a chance we might be that annoyingly cutesy couple that gives little pecks and holds hands all the time.

3. I must hear from you at least once every 24 hours. I know we're both busy, but at a minimum I need a text from you on days I don't see you. I worry about you. And if I have called or texted you, then you need to respond -- preferably within 12 hours, but definitely not more than 24 hours. After 25 hours I will wonder if you've been in an accident, which hospital you're in, if you have a secret double life, how many other women you're seeing, or I will simply be plotting your murder.

4. You need to make definite plans with me. I don't want to sit around wondering if we have a date. I know you think I'm spontaneous and fun and that I always look amazing with no effort, but I need time to get ready. I need to know what I'm wearing, if I'm shaving my legs, if I should eat dinner or if we're getting food. When you tell me specific details like date and time or location, I don't have to wonder if you're blowing me off. I know I'm going to see you again and then I get to look forward to seeing you instead of thinking about how you've broken rule #3 and I need to make your murder look like an accident.

5. Be willing to fight with me.  We're going to disagree about something at some point. You're going to hurt my feelings. I will do things that irritate you. That's just how relationships go, but when these things happen I need you to talk to me. Don't avoid me because I'm mad. That only gives my anger more time to percolate and boil over! And don't push your own feelings down because you don't want to deal with confrontation. I would like to know if I'm doing something that vexes you.

Also, I have been told by men that have seriously pissed me off that they were nervous to talk to me, but it was much easier talking to me than they thought. *References are available only upon request. 

6. Be willing to fight for me. At the beginning or prelude to a relationship there are sometimes problems like schedules, distance, other suitors, fear, or self-doubt. I'm a good catch. Tell me how you feel. Tell me what your afraid of. Fight through the obstacles and at least give "us" a real try. 

7. Hold me when I cry. A lot of guys are frightened by female displays of emotion, but as my boyfriend, you are obligated to care that I'm upset. Also, it's pretty rare for me to cry in front of other people so if you happen to see it you should feel a little honored that I trust you. And if you happen to have caused the tears--the quickest solution is still just to hold me. And then lie to me just this one time and tell me that I'm not an ugly crier.  

8. Do life as well as dates. I want to be romanced and for us to do new, fun things together. But I also want to see you in your natural habitat. I want to spend time with you in the kitchen, on the couch, and other rooms we may visit 😉. I want to go to the symphony with you, and I want to go to the grocery store with you. We need a balance of casual Netflix nights in and nights out on the town. It's really about the pleasure of your company. 

Notice: This is not an all encompassing list. It is subject to additions or change, and once subscribed to official boyfriend status you will receive updates via text or email.