A Year Without Them

The Drought

2009-10-09T13:19:00.002-05:00

I came here today with the intention of writing a very different post than what I'm about to write. I posted a silly video this morning on Facebook:

This video, while ultimately hilarious also made me kind of sad. This is exactly what I've been running into as I've started to slowly put myself out in the dating world. A bunch of men who are either creepy, weird, or only out for one thing. All the girls who replied to my post understood exactly what I was talking about.

And then there was a reply from him.

This man who I've known for about half a year now; He's in my program at the school. He is smart, witty, and has an AMAZING taste in music (very similar to my own). I've always been interested in him. I thought that I had done a good job in letting him know. He's always said that we should go get a drink. He gave me his number. In return, I gave him mine. But I didn't call him. I'm not playing that game. He wants me? He's going to have to come and get me.

Today, he did it. He came and got me. Finally.

His response to my posting questioned why this was the real reason that I haven't been dating. My reply:

*his name* - it's not 100% of the reason, but it's a good 75% of the reason.

I have put myself out there over the last few months bc I thought I was finally ready. But *this* is what I keep running into...men who aren't truly interested in getting to know me, who take this all as some kind of joke. All they care about are what I look like and what I can do for them. And I'm tired of it. I am a giving woman, but there's only so much that can be squeezed out of me before I am totally rung out.

Within a half an hour, he texts me and we have a date set up tomorrow night. And I am scared.

Here is this man, who I've been interested in for a while, who has finally asked me out. He seems to be kind and gentle. He seems to be sensible and smart. I ran into him on the bus last week and our conversation flowed easily. I like being around him. He is an older guy who just wants to have someone around to have a good time with. That is exactly what I am looking for. So, I'm going to have to open up. I'm going to have to let myself feel again. I'm going to have to learn how to trust a man. This last one is what is holding me up however.

So, I'm going to take my time. I don't have to rush. I don't have to say yes or no or maybe. I just have to enjoy myself. End of story.

The Species

2009-09-25T21:37:00.002-05:00

The male species never ceases to amaze me. I know now that I will never understand them and that they will always do the opposite of whatever I want. This week, I've had two prime examples.

First, I've gotten a stalker. It's one of the men in my program (who's old enough to be my father) and honestly, it's getting old. He follows me when I leave the classroom, and he keeps trying to get me drunk. It's not funny anymore.

Second, Sandal boy has returned.

I met him about a year ago. He lives in my building. We took a very pleasant walk one Sunday morning, and then he showed up at my door about a month later just after midnight. There's much more to the story, but honestly, I don't feel like getting that in depth tonight. To make a long story short, we didn't sleep together, but a little fun was had. He's a bit full of himself (and honestly, he has right to be. He's gorgeous and has a penis the size of King Kong.) but I just don't deal well with people like that. He's been over one other time and I simply kicked him out when he started acting like an ass.

We see each other in passing every so often, and on one of those occasions I was extremely drunk. He was standing outside on his cell phone so I ran up to him and gave him a big bear hug. It was silly, but I was actually happy to see him at that moment. Now I just laugh because he's a reminder of the fact that I deserve better than some random boy who wears socks with sandals (ew).

So we come to today. I am walking toward the elevators and I see his tall frame down the hall. I hold the elevator so he can get on. He doesn't push his floor because he is:

1. too engrossed in his conversation with me and
2. eating a dove ice cream bar.

Silly boy. He tells me that he tried to find me this week, but went to the wrong floor. He tried 2509 and 2505. I am 2905. He asks if I'm a writer. (Did I ever actually tell him this? And how in the hell does he remember?) Then the bomb drops. What are you doing tomorrow afternoon? Can I come over? What? Is he serious? Why the hell does he want to visit me? We're not really friends. Well, I'm playing golf in the morning, but I should be home around 2 is my answer.

So now the question, do I really want to be home when he comes knocking?

Part of me says yes, part of me says no. You can guess which part of me is saying YES. It's been nine months. It's time. I'm so damn ready.

But to waste it on this jackoff of a boy? Perhaps not.

(but I can't help but keep thinking about King Kong. I've had one that size before. It was phenomenal. and momma needs a little King Kong in her life.)

The Secret

2009-09-23T12:45:00.007-05:00

I have secrets. Many of them. They're thoughts that I don't share. With anyone. Not my best friends. Not my family. Not a single person. I haven't even blogged about some of these particular details because they're simply too private. I don't want to look like a fool. There are a few times though that I wish I had said something. My life might have turned out quite different.

There are only a few men that I've known that I would do anything to be with. Well...almost anything. I would never murder, scheme, deceive, or be a home-wrecking whore. One of them is married with three children. As much as I love that man, I would never do anything to destroy what he has. So, he has become like a brother to me. I see him on Sundays and tell him of the other men that briefly enter into my life. We tease and we flirt, but that's where it stays. Another has a serious girlfriend of many years. He has become one of my best friends, and a confidant I trust with all of my insecurities and fears. I could never do without these aspects of him, and I would never want anything to change between what we are now. He is my sanity.

The last one though, he's a little bit more complicated. He is dating someone now, but to tell you the truth, I don't think it's going to last from what he's told me. I've kept my mouth shut though. I've been waiting patiently for the right time to come, for the right time to say something, but it's come and gone so many times that I'm afraid it will never happen again.

People knew I had a slight crush on him last fall. I told myself that it would never work out. He is a vegetarian while I love barbeque (just as much as I love sex). If I'm really honest with myself though, I will admit that I didn't pursue it because I didn't think I had the chance. He is tallish, skinny, and lanky. I am tall, but fat. We would look like Jack Sprat and his wife standing side by side. There are many pretty and smart girls in my department. I stand on the outside of that ring of women. But he felt different to me for some reason. He was smart, interesting, and funny. I enjoyed his writing. He wasn't like all the other men I had come across. There was a sensitivity about him that many of the others lacked.

We hung out a few times. I brought him over to meet my friends. We had fun. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that he would ever have feelings for me. I'm still not quite sure if he ever really did. I began to make friends with all the other people in the department and came across a girl, one who needed a distraction from the horrid problems she was having and frankly, needed someone to simply love her. And she was also a vegetarian. I concocted a plan. I would set them up and life would be wonderful. Everyone would be happy.

I will never forget the night that it all happened. That could have been the night that changed my life. Perhaps it did in some ways. I talked to her first as we walked to the bar after class, asked her what she thought of him, would she like it if I were to try to set them up. Her answer shocked me for a moment. I think he likes you. Are you sure you want to do this? I was stupid and unselfish at this time in my life. I shouldn't have been. I should have stopped for a second and listened to what she had said.

A few minutes later, the group of us settled into our chairs in the basement bar. On my right was the boy who was later to become my best friend and confidant. On my left, the girl. Directly across the table sat this boy, my secret, who I never McNic-named. I spent the night chatting up my soon-to-be best friend. He said something tartly smart and I laughed whole-heartedly. I looked over across the table amidst all the riotous laughter and caught the eye of my secret. This was the moment that I knew, but would never admit to. His look was affectionate and it was as if he was admiring me from afar. I will never forget seeing it that night. I smiled back at him, and pushed the thought away from me.

After a few hours of drunken fun, we left. As we walked down the block, I stopped him. I asked him what he thought of her. I did the deed that would end up destroying my life that semester. That night, they kissed. I went home alone.

They dated for about four months until all hell broke loose. I still don't know most of the details since there was a huge fall out between myself and most of the other people in the clique. It wasn't until this summer that I was able to actually speak to him alone again. I apologized for setting him up, telling him how awful I felt. I hadn't realized what a mess the girl was. And then we started talking about dating in general. And my heart melted.

I began to remember all these wonderful things about him that I had missed these past months. I loved the time we spent at the art institute, laying in the grass talking about our lives and our relationships. He was so easy to be around, and I can truly be myself witih him. It just comes naturally. I was unafraid to tell him my stupid thoughts and how hard I had been trying to forget another boy. And he opened up to me as well.

It was because of this one conversation we shared that got me writing again, that got me to realize the trauma I had survived, and showed me that there are still nice guys left in the world. I asked him if I could interview him for my thesis. He said yes. And then I did something that scared the holy hell out of me. I asked him to look at my profile on a dating site and tell me what was wrong with it. I wasn't sure how I was attracting all these stupid idiot boys. I sent him an email with a link and waited for the answer.

What happened next was surprising. He didn't find anything wrong with my profile. And he had one of his own (that his roommates put him up to). And of course, we matched pretty well. But the things he wrote about made me happy. They made me realize that I'm not a loser. I'm not desperate or scary. I'm simply me. And the way he sees me isn't like anyone else does. And for that I am so grateful.

But gratefulness doesn't equal to happiness. I am still waiting. I haven't said anything. He is still dating this new girl (at least last I heard). I worry for him that his heart will be broken again. I know how much he likes her. But it is not my problem. I am my own problem--

My problem with only liking boys that are unavailable. For putting them on pedestals that rarely shatter. My problem with not believing in myself, and that I am worthy to be someone's better half.

So I will wait again. I will keep my secret. But if the chance should ever come again, I will not waste it.

The Idea

2009-09-22T08:52:00.002-05:00

Last spring I began therapy, and for good reason considering what happened. The semester had been a huge struggle for me, but things seemed to get better as the weeks progressed. Many times though, the conversations were always about the men in my life. I remember one session however that stands out above the rest. I was going on and on about this guy that I was crushing on who was in my classes. My therapist stopped me and simply said, "Can you just be friends with him?"

This stopped my world from spinning for just a moment.

Could I really do that? Could I really just be friends with him? At the time, I said no. I had enough male friends (which was and still is actually very true). But I wanted something more.

I mean, really? Who doesn't? Who wouldn't want to know that there's another person who wants to spend time with you, get to know you, and wake up next to you?

But I, of course, ignored what she said. I let myself develop this massive crush on someone who didn't reciprocate. Honestly, it turned out fine. I'm over it now (finally). But have I learned anything?

Perhaps I have. Perhaps I should just look at James from the "just a friend" standpoint first. Just wait and see what develops. Would that be so hard? None of the other ways I've ever tried meeting men have worked. Maybe this is my chance to do something different.

The Revert

2009-09-22T00:37:00.004-05:00

Did I happen to mention that I'm an absolute idiot when it comes to boys? Remember my post yesterday when I said "No boys. No dating. Again."? And do you remember the fact that I always end up doing the same stupid stuff over and over?

Today is no different.

About a year or so ago, I met a very cute bar manager named James. He seemed to flirt back, gave us free drinks the few times we were there, and we've been facebook friends ever since. Nothing major ever happened (though he did take one very unflattering picture of himself with my camera), and I haven't been back to his bar in a while. Well, his status update as of about five minutes ago says that he's at a bar in his new neighborhood. MY neighborhood.

Do you have any idea the thoughts that are running in my head right now?

There are many and most of them have to do with sex. Dear. God. Please let this be the friend I've been looking for. It couldn't be any more perfect. I didn't meet him online. (Rule #1, check!) We've already been in each other's company a few times so he's seen me in person, and all of those times were good. (Rule #2, check!) He is single (or at least according to his facebook status...Rule #3, check!) He now lives right near me (aaaaand Rule #4, double check!)

Really, I couldn't ask for a better set up.

The Update:
Holy. Crap. What have I done.
Literally five minutes after posting this, he responds to what I wrote and asked if I wanted to get a drink sometime. I don't know whether to be ecstatically happy or beyond scared.

The Update

2009-09-20T17:08:00.008-05:00

My last post was dated Monday, February 16th. Today is September 20th. Roughly seven months have passed and I have not written a single word on this blog. A lot of things have happened (and not happened) in this time, but I'm not even sure where or how to begin.

Perhaps an explanation of sorts is appropriate. In July, I sat down to try to write my very first piece of fiction. I simply wanted to sit and write without any hesitation, without any real thought behind it. Just pour whatever comes out onto the page. What happened however, changed my life. I sat on my couch and was in a kind of trance. I typed for about half an hour. When I woke up, I looked down and realized that I had written another nonfiction essay, an essay on date rape.

As much as I want to post it here, I'm going to have to hold onto it. This is the first piece that I feel is actually of publishable quality. But what it says is something that women everywhere need to hear.

The whole reason that I stopped dating (and stopped writing) is the fact that the last asshole I was with date raped me. He date raped me and then intimidated me into silence. I am a thirty-year-old woman who's in a master's program for god's sake! How could this happen? I couldn't function. I stopped trusting everyone, even my own friends. My depression took over my life. I was afraid to write a single word on my personal blog for fear that he would sabotage it or somehow come after me. And then there was the guilt.

Date rape is complicated. I wanted to sleep with him. We were in my bed and I was ready, but he had no protection. I said no. Twice. He ignored me and went ahead with what he wanted to do. It doesn't matter that I wanted it, what came out of my mouth was no. The fact is that here was someone that I was beginning to know, someone that I was beginning to trust, and he turned into a monster. And I was left alone.

So, it's now September. I have yet to date anyone or have any kind of sexual relations, and I'm going crazy. I need some affection. I need some kind of physical contact of skin on skin. But I need it to be with someone I trust. This is something that I don't think I'll be able to find.

I turned to Craigslist again a few night ago. I was home alone, in bed and needing a little stimulation. I posted a silly ad stating I was in bed naked and asked what they would do. I was wanting a bedtime story of sorts. I got over 50 responses in 45 minutes and then decided to pull the plug. That was plenty of reading material for me, thanks. Most were the typical replies; Are you real? Here's a picture of my penis. Why don't I come over and help you with that? I had no plans on replying to any of them.

But then came Dean.

His reply was perfect. He spent a few sentences answering what I asked for. Then he went into a description of himself. But then came the irresistible part; He made me feel comfortable with what he was asking. He made it feel as though I would be safe with him somehow. He didn't push and he wasn't obnoxious. He sent four pictures, none of which were sexual. He was cute. They typical dorky-looking, teddy bear type that I love. How could I not want to reply to him?

And the next morning I did.

We spent the day emailing back and forth, working out details of when and where we would meet. I asked if he would be interested in being "friends with benefits". He obliged. I thought that finally I had found exactly what I was needing right now. Perhaps I was too quick to judge.

That evening, I went out for my friend's 30th birthday, and we did lots of celebrating (i.e. lots and lots of drinking). I waited to see if I would get another email again from Dean. No answer. Just as we were leaving the bar around 1 am, he begins again. "Sorry I missed you tonight. Are you still up?" I (being the drunk fool I am) answered. He had been at the White Sox game. He wanted to come over. I said no. I had to be up early to sing. I knew that this would not fit into my plans. We had already made plans to meet on Tuesday so I knew that this minor set back would be no big deal.

Then, I woke up with mother nature calling. I got my period. It's as if god is playing some sick ass joke on me.

My head went into overdrive. What was I going to do? What would he think if I bailed on our plans Tuesday? How much do I really need to tell him? Maybe he would still meet up with me just to see if we had any chemistry. I decided that I would simply be honest. His response would show just exactly what he's really wanting. And wouldn't you know it? Our Tuesday meet up is now canceled because just as it turns out, he just got some news that he was going to have a lot going on at work that day.

My ass.

So I have yet to respond. If he can't take half an hour to have a drink with me, there's no chance in hell that he's actually going to stick around for a long-term friends with benefits situation. He has proven his point. And I am running the other way.

This more than likely would have ended up like all the other one night stands I've had. The promise of an on-going situation easily forgotten. So what is a girl to do?

I am in this suck-ass predicament. I need some satisfaction, but with someone who will tend to me a little. I am in no emotional state to really date, but I need something. There has to be some kind of middle ground. Why, with all these thousands (nay, millions) of men in this city, is it so impossible to find what I need?

And so, I am back to square one.

No boys. No dating. Again.

The Day

2009-02-16T18:00:00.004-06:00

It's February 16th. Two days after Valentine's day. This year I did nothing.

Really.

In all honesty, it didn't even cross my mind until someone at our conference reminded me. For the first time in my life, Valentine's just didn't matter. I don't remember the last time that I felt like this. Every year, this day comes and goes, and I'm usually either completely head over heels in love or completely depressed. There is no in between for me. But this year was different. I just didn't think about it. Perhaps I was too busy. Perhaps I was just too over it. Perhaps I just needed a break from feeling sad all the damn time. Whatever it was though, it worked.

I'm trying to remember Valentine's from years past. The only one I can remember comes from seventh grade. Brian was my first boyfriend and my first love. Even back then at the tender age of twelve, I saw myself spending the rest of my life with this one boy. I dreamed of having his children, and taking care of each other as we grew old together in the small city we lived in. He was my best friend, and everything that I could have wanted at that point in my young life.

The first time we got to see each other that Valentine's day back in 1990 was in home economics class. I was so excited about the present that I had gotten for him, a Reba McIntyre calendar. He was madly in love with her and had passed on his obsession to me. We would spend afternoons listening to her cd's, singing along as passionately as our 12-year-old hearts would allow. I would sing the melody and he would always sing harmony a third above me. It was Brian's dream to become a country singer so I knew that the calendar was something that he would love. I walked in to class more nervous than I had ever been, and saw a wrapped box sitting on his desk. Of course, it was just the typical box of chocolates, but I couldn't have been happier. My boyfriend had gotten me something for Valentines and had given it to me in front of everyone. Me. The fat girl that everyone thought was never going to date.

And date we did. It was drama-filled for all six years of junior high and high school. We stayed best friends through it all, and lost our virginity to each other during our senior year. It was the day of the Four County Honors Band clinic concert. We came home for a few hours between the rehearsal and concert, and decided that we were going to do it. A band dork's dream right? Wrong. It was painful. I laid a towel on the floor, but the carpet still burned into my back as he began what was to be the quickest most unfulfilling five minutes of my life. After it was all over, I whispered that I loved him and heard nothing but our ragged breathing in return.

And so was the beginning of my dating life.

It's sad that I can't remember what I did for Valentine's with my last boyfriend Ryan. He was someone I also thought I was going to spend my life with. We were living together, had picked a date for the wedding, I had begun the planning, but the ring just somehow never materialized. He's fading from my memory. I still remember the day I met him and the day that he left me, but everything else in between is just becoming this hazy blur. The only thing that I wish I could forget is that I'm still in love with him. Somethings are just harder to forget then others I guess.

The Regret

2009-01-23T08:14:00.006-06:00

It always happens. Just a few days after I start on my "no boys" diet, that feeling of doubt creeps in. I get scared. I panic. I begin to think about the what ifs, and the coulda, shoulda, woulda's. I wallow in the bowl of pudding that is my dating life.

Don't get me wrong. I love pudding. Vanilla, Chocolate, Pistachio (my fav). I could eat pudding every day for the rest of my life, but eating all four servings in one sitting isn't really all that good for me.

These "no boy binges" usually lead to this wonderful cycle of regret: First, I give up on dating. No. More. Boys. At all. The minute it happens, some radar goes off in all the men within a 100 foot radius, and I finally get all the attention that I've been craving. The doubt of my non-dating status sets in, and Craigslist here I come! Date badly again for a few months. Give up on dating. No. More Boys. At all...and it goes on and on like that marathon of Law & Order reruns that you can't stop watching. (put down the remote. you can do it.)

A few nights ago was the perfect example. I got some great news and wanted to celebrate with dinner at my favorite restaurant which just so happens to be next door to where I live. My friends wussed out so I decided that I would just get take out and celebrate by myself. I grab my coat and keys, unfussed about applying makeup or brushing my hair, and head out the door. Who's going to see me if I leave my apartment for only five minutes to pick up a steak sandwich and cheesecake? (Sadly, there's no pudding on the dessert menu.) I rarely run into any of my actually neighbors other than the crazy older woman with her schizo black lab that she dresses in a neon red parka with matching doggie shoes.

Not on this night though. As I shut my door, I notice there, in my usually deserted hallway, stands this tall, handsome man...with a puppy. The cutest little Australian Silky Terrier on the face of the planet, running up and down the hallway to get his exercise since it's so cold out. How can you say no to a face like this?

The cuteness starts to chase me. He won't follow his master so I must pet. I must play. I'm giggling like a little girl at this monster ball of fluff at my feet who keeps jumping up and down as though he were one of those battery powered toys you see yipping away on the display in front of KB Toys. His owner and I make a few small comments and I finally escape to the elevator. My mind is blurry as the elevator door shuts. Cute dog. Cute boy. Cute dog. Cute boy. On my floor! Me, no makeup! Ugh.

And then I remind myself that this is fine. I'm not dating!

I grab my food from the bar making sure not to make eye contact with any of the men drinking beer and watching the latest sports scores. I make my way back through the cold night air, and take the elevator up to the 29th floor where I live. The door slides open. Can you guess who is standing there, sans cute dog? He says hello again, and I smile. But it's not one of those smiles I give to my crazy neighbor lady. It's one of those smiles with a bit of naughty in my eye that says Hey stud, what are you doing later? The kind of smile that makes men go slack-jawed and drool at the thought that they might have a chance at getting a little action this evening. As the elevator doors close on him, I see that slight hint of a knowledgeable smile appear on his own lips. My heart starts to beat just a little bit faster.

I didn't stop to think about what I was doing. I couldn't help myself. I am a flirt by nature.

It's as if that part of my brain has no mute button. The sly looks and the not-so-innocent questions that lead men to my couch (and inevitably my bedroom) are just auto pilot for me. There is no way to stop what comes out of my mouth.

Why, hello Brain. Isn't this just a lovely evening? This is my friend, Mouth. I bet you'll get along famously. You two should have a lot in common. Did you know that you're both on my head? No? Well yes, you really are.

Never happens though. Brain is always off dreaming somewhere and Mouth just does whatever it wants to, which includes flirting with men when I shouldn't and sitting down to eat an entire box of pudding some nights.

But this is what is partially loveable about me. I eat pudding. I date inappropriate men. I flirt without thinking.

It's just another day in the life of this now 'non-dating' girl.

The Rules

2009-01-18T15:28:00.010-06:00

Clearly, I need to set myself some rules for this new direction that I'm taking in my life. I've never been good with rules though. Rules are boundaries, and I've always said that I'm one who breaks them, pushes them, tends to make mince meat out of them. I hate boundaries and I like making trouble. I hate having to be told what I can and cannot do. It's just not in my nature.

What is in my nature though, is sex.

I've already come across my first dilemma, but this one really has to do with definition. What am I going to allow myself to do in this year? I said no dating. I'm sticking to that. But is sex (with another person) forbidden? I'm thinking no. I'm thinking that to get through all this, a FWB (friend with benefits) might just do the trick. I had tried that once about 3 years ago, but it turned out to be a royal mess. Why? Because I actually became friends with this person, which meant that I also fell in love with him. I spent many nights up till 3 am talking to him on the phone, calming his nerves and easing the pain that he was dealing with. I am one of those stupid girls who simply can't just be friends with a boy and not want to take care of him in some way if we're physical. But, what if I wasn't technically "friends" with the person? What if we got to only know the basics and that was it? From then on, simply once or twice a week, meet to get a little groove on. No talking about what's going on in each other's lives, no dinner and a movie, no game night, no meeting my other friends. Purely some physical action. I think I could handle that. I think it might be exactly what I need. As long as the expectations and definitions are in place.

Not all of you will understand this. Not all of you will condone this. But this is my life. I know what I need to survive without becoming a complete lunatic. This past semester at school, I had taken some "time off" from dating and sex without really saying so up front. I stopped the emails, the constant trolling on Craigslist. I stopped meeting random men to hook up with and honestly, it became a complete disaster. Within three months of no physical contact, I became a complete nut and was hitting on every guy that came across my path, especially the ones that were inappropriate. 22-year-old madly talented poet who was believed to be a virgin at the time? Check. 23-year-old who was too short, definitely not interested, but put up with me anyway bc I was beyond drunk (and this on more than one occasion)? Check. 26 year old who already has a steady girlfriend of what I now believe to be some odd years? Check again. 29 year old manager of my favorite bar (who actually did seem interested at one point)? Final check.

It's a sad tale to tell. I became ostracized in a community that had once adored me. Frankly, the way things stand right now, I could care less about them because they've all turned out to be a bunch of hypocritical, two-faced assholes, but it doesn't make it any easier. So I took those experiences and learned from them. 1) I need some kind of physical attention from a member of the opposite sex every three months or so. 2) Some people are just not meant to be trusted. 3) Those people who really, truly love me will do so, no matter what I say or do.

So, with rules come expectations, definitions that I need to be able to define for myself. What is considered dating? Is it where a) boy asks girl out and girl says yes b) boy and girl have dinner and a movie which inevitably leads to sex c) boys dumps girl and girl is left in a heartbroken, sad state. Is it being in a "relationship"? Is it purely having physical contact? I'm going to have to say no to that one. And what exactly am I actually *allowed* to do online and on Craigslist, the most evil, but utterly satisfying places of all?

Now after all that...

my basic rules (which I may amend at any time but hopefully will not):
1)No dating - no agreeing to go out on a "date" with a member of the opposite sex. No dinner and a movie. No game nights. No getting to know each other better with the intention of getting into each other's skivvies, and into each other's lives as "partners".

2)Sex - definitely allowable, but ONLY for that purpose. If it starts to become something more than FWB then the sex (with that person) must stop.

3)Relationships - NO. WAY.

4)Craigslist - This is a murky area here. I enjoy reading the ads. They're funny and mostly only lame excuses to get sex, but every once in a while I come across one that really touches me. I met my last ex that way (the one that I simply can't seem to get over). But should I be able to answer them? I have no idea. Posting for myself I think is definitely out of the question (unless it refers to rule #2...but hopefully I won't be needing that after the man I emailed today. He is looking for the same thing I am. Clearly and simply, FWB. And no worries friends, I've already stalked him and found him on both facebook and myspace. He's actually very cute, and seems normal so this may work out to my benefit).

5)Dating websites - BIG no no. No searching on them whatsoever. But do I take down my own profiles? This is something I don't think I'm going to make a decision on today. Should I be open to actually meeting the man of my dreams? Yes. Most definitely. That doesn't mean however, that I'm going to go looking for him. No more looking. at all.

So there's my first plan of action. I'm hoping that it will keep my sane somehow in this insane little life of mine. I'm hoping that not too many men will come flocking to the hotness that I know radiates off of me when I'm in the "no dating zone".

I'm hoping that this will work.

The Reasons

2009-01-16T12:59:00.001-06:00

I am a girl who dates. A lot. Frankly though, I'm just tired of it.

It's been a year and half since my last real relationship. I'm actually proud of that fact since I was one of those women who tended to jump from the end of one to the next within a three month time span. Each relationship was typical, lasting a year or two, but each one was special to me. I loved each of these men in their own way. How could I not? They were interesting, educated, and adorable. My friends called me "The Devirginator" (aptly named. What can I say? I like dorky boys.) I stayed with each one till the bitter end, when they all got tired of me and simply left. Rarely was I the dumper, mostly the dumpee. Two of the men had said we would be married. One ended up falling in love with someone else, the other simply fell out of love with me. It's been a bumpy 7 years.

So here's 2009, all bright, shiny, and new. It's the year of "yes we can" and a year of change. I was rehashing my list, made two weeks ago, of the wonderful yearly resolutions that I rarely keep. Quit drinking? Oops, the weekly dinner with friends is kinda, sorta getting in the way (especially since one couple got me a martini set for Christmas). Get healthy? Not quite (though I have gone to the gym twice this week.) Get organized? Mmm, I'll get back to you on that one. Find a stable relationship? Dead stop.

The last time I dated someone was about a month ago. He seemed nice and normal, but then freaked out after he found my myspace blog. As another friend of mine said, "He's got nice-guy syndrome." Honestly, things were going along very well. I thought that I had finally found someone who I could just "be" with. No pressure. No games. Unfortunately, he just needed that one little thing to happen to find his escape route. So, he did.

I cried for about four days or so, then stayed depressed for about a month. This morning, I woke up and here I am. A thirty-year old woman who's simply over it.

When I go out to bars, there is no short supply of men who like to look. Myspace and Facebook are full of the creeps who for some reason feel the need to tell me how hot I am and what they'd like to do to me. Dating websites are only a place to pay for your rejection, and Craigslist has now become a desolate land of the desperate seeking only to get laid. So I'm stopping.

No more for me, thanks. I'll take this year and spend some time with myself. I'll spend some time with my friends. I'll spend some time at the gym, and I'll spend some time with my computer. Something good has got to come of that.

"I'll look to like, if looking liking move; But no more deep will I endart mine eye than your consent gives strenth to make it fly."

"Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days."

(bonus if you know where these quotes are from)