Tag Archives: NY

I See You See Me

I wouldn’t say I stopped writing per se, more like a hiatus – a mental vacation from the rigors of both dating and writing. My life has undergone some major changes. Not bad or good necessarily, but different. I’ve found myself as a mid-life entrepreneur and quite frankly, it’s taken up pretty much all my mental and physical energy these days.

Initially, I became frustrated with blogging and it had nothing to do with the writing but more with the forum. You willingly put yourself out there for the world, and then the nature of the internet, which can promote and entice anonymous cyber bulling, name calling, judgment and ridicule all take effect, and I suddenly found myself defensive and more sensitive than I had realized. Despite the fact I had far more supporters than detractors, (why one would continue to read and subscribe if they truly thought I was an idiot and didn’t enjoy the blog is beside me), it really bothered me when the occasional scathing response would appear.

Question was, did it bother me that someone didn’t like me or thought my actions were foolish, or was it that I wasn’t seeing myself for the truth? Or perhaps I wasn’t relaying or expressing things accurately? Or maybe they were just too fucking stupid and missing the point? Or the fact that this was all supposed to be humorous in a dark, snarky sort of way and nobody was getting the joke?….Or perhaps a little bit of all of the above.

I recently read “Otherhood” by Melanie Notkin that had me thinking about all of this. The book is about a successful, attractive and intelligent 40 something woman in New York City who finds herself single with no kids much to her chagrin and surprise – and then spends about 350 pages to complain and whine about it. My first reaction when I heard about the book was interest, figuring I could likely relate and find it refreshing to hear this from someone else’s perspective. I started reading and was immediately taken by how annoying and trite she appeared. Not to mention, I found the story quite depressing and uninspiring. Even though we had so much in common (in addition to some mutual friends), I had a difficult time getting through the book and forced myself to finish in a drudging chapter by chapter quest for the ending.

When I went online to see what other readers were thinking I was blown away at the negative reviews and scathing commentary. Other women, both single and married who just simply didn’t get it, and didn’t get her. Comparing her tales to Sex and the City was not considered flattering or entertaining, and the consensus seemed to feel she had knowingly and intentionally created this life so shut the hell up. I understood the backlash, but I also empathized with her. Here I had been living a very similar life and yet I could barely get myself through the book and was already disliking and casting judgments upon someone I didn’t know despite the fact she’s probably lovely in real life.

This brings me back to my blog. I realize there will always be critics of one’s life, not to mention one’s work. If I, who should have been Ms. Notkin’s prime audience, didn’t enjoy or relate to her musings, how would the rest of the general population that hasn’t lived in the shoes of a single woman living and dating in Manhattan do so? I wanted to feel bad for her in a way, and then I realized she at least had a published book! My reason for writing was and has always been creative self-expression. The purpose of the blog was to entertain. If I’m not accomplishing both of these why bother?

Although this entry has little to do with dating, and may or may not serve as entertainment, perhaps I do miss the expression aspect of writing and sharing. I recently lost a dear friend who served as a confidant, cheerleader and fellow single datehater. I miss her, and swapping our stories, several of which have been shared in one way or another in previous posts. Nothing can beat the love and support of a friend; only a fool would seek such things from a cyber community of nameless, faceless followers.

We all walk in our own shoes and no two paths are exactly the same. I may regret things I’ve said or done regarding the dating choices I’ve made, but I don’t regret the paths in life I have chosen – I’m simply not programmed that way. As long as I can learn and grow from mistakes, enjoy my experiences, laugh at the less pleasant ones and make some friends along the way, I’ll be just fine.

Dutch Boy

I’m always fascinated by the ever popular dating topic of who pays and when.

I’ve never really thought of it as being a big deal until I started hearing repeated stories from male friends about women calling it quits early on due to the way a man handles or deflects the bill when presented. It’s amazing how a perfectly wonderful evening can come to a screeching halt when the check comes and no one reaches for it, or the woman reaches….and the man says “cool, thanks!”

Just last week I had lunch with a male friend of mine and when I enquired about his love life he told me about a woman he had been on a few dates with.

“Everything was going great, we went out a few times, great girl, very attractive, lots in common and then…nothing. I texted her about a follow up date and she ignored me. I couldn’t possiby understand what went wrong and how she could have lost interest so quickly. Turns out, she admitted when she took out her credit card to pay for the chinese food and I let her pay she was completely annoyed and offended and said I wasn’t the kind of man she was looking for. Meanwhile, I just didn’t want to offend her by insisting on paying. I know women will get insulted if you don’t let them pay when they offer.”

Okay, first off….women will NOT get insulted if you do not let them pay! They will however hold it against you if you do them pay. Let’s just call a spade a spade here. Women offer to pay but as modern or progressive as they may be, they actually have no intention or desire to pick up the bill. Not in the early stages of dating which is say, dates 1-4 or 5. He had no clue. Or chose not to.

What I’ve learned is this. Do not offer to pay unless you are fully prepared and willing to. You can’t offer and then hold it against him. You can, however, make a decision as to whether you’d like to continue seeing them based on such behavior.

Which brings me to my date with Dutch Boy.

So many things that went sour in my brain and indicated his utter cheapness but it capped off with me asking him if he was hungry since it was 7 pm and he says “Not really, I don’t really eat much. Food isn’t important and I don’t have much of an appetite.” First date, I let the food component slide, but this was date two…it’s 7 pm, I’d like to eat. I was hungry so we agreed on the local place I take many of my dates to. We coincidentally sat in the same table where Hearts and Flowers Guy and I sat.

We each ordered a beer and some hummus sampler (I ate most of which). Conversation was fine and perfectly enjoyable but I was starting to feel the romantic connection slipping away. The bill came as I was getting up to go to the bathroom. When I returned, the bill was STILL sitting there with no form of payment on it. I knew exactly what that meant as it was clearly intentional. He THEN reached for his wallet and so I merely glanced at the check when he uttered “$20 from each of us should be good.”

 
Actually my friend……that would be the OPPOSITE of good, but I’m glad you are showing who you are and your preferred and chosen lifestyle to me now because I just lost my lady-wood in a big way. I was so turned off it amazes me how dumb a guy can be for $20. I mean, let’s just say there was a chance of him getting laid…..well, there was NONE after that outburst. Schmuck. Nothing went wrong on the date, it wasn’t malicious, just his choice. As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure he was into me.
It was raining and early and I was bored and awake, so we came back to my apt to watch tv and hang out and perhaps make out a little. I’ve never been so cognizant and lucid of what was and wasn’t going to happen. Nice guy, means well, totally clueless as to how offensive and stupid that little move of his was. Normally in a situation like that since he doesn’t live in the city, I’d likely let him sleep over even if we weren’t going to have sex. But Dutch Boy was getting none of my hospitality at this point. Was able to seal the deal when he opened up and told me he keeps women’s underwear as souvenirs. You mean like the way serial killers do?
 
I think you’d better go grab that bus back to Jersey.

No Action Here Folks….Keep Moving

Damn….I’m an awful blogger. I can barely recall the last time I posted and yet each day I’m so excited to see my new Twitter followers – surely anxiously awaiting my next entry of snarky and amusing dating anecdotes.

Or not.

Dating has been slow. While work has been fast – and exhausting. No excuse, or should I say, more like an excuse a man would give. “I really dig you baby but I’m too busy with my career to be in a relationship.” All a load of crap I know. So I continue to hang out on occasion with Clark Kent. Nice guy but I can confirm without hesitation that I do NOT want to be his girlfriend or in a relationship with him. He’s a nice enough guy – end of story – end of the emotional trail. I’m still looking and have continued to meet a gaggle of fabulously stylish gay men. And although I continue to troll online, have had quite disappointing results and interactions.

I continue to try but often wonder when I’ll find real love again. The good news is that I know who I am, what I want, need and expect from a man and a partner. I see my parents, married for almost 50 years, truly one another’s best friend – then I see my contemporaries who are in one stage or another of divorce when they realize in hindsight that they never really should have married that person….but it was the right time or the thing to do. In the end, that’s just not enough. Not enough for me anyhow. Doesn’t everyone deserve to be happy?

I think so….

I Kid You Not

When I say psychos, criminals and pervs are the only ones who contact me online…

I’m not kidding!

blog

Always Judge a Book By its Cover

Been on a few dates now with Clark Kent. I haven’t written because I’m not really quite sure what to say. Strange from me, I know.

I don’t have anything bad to say about him. He hasn’t done anything awful or offensive. But something is clearly off or missing that I can’t put my finger on. Putting that aside, we had a very candid conversation about how he is not looking for a relationship, doesn’t have time to commit to someone at the moment and wouldn’t be a good boyfriend to anyone. So….where do you go from there?

I told him, that I was in fact, looking for a relationship, but I appreciated his honesty and wasn’t sure where that left us. Put that together with me being ambivalent and I was okay no matter how this thing pans out. He said he was ideally looking for a friend that he could hang out with, do things with and be sexually attracted to them (which I suppose is code for sleeping with them). Dating with no strings or friends with benefits…no matter what you call it, it’s what a lot of men (I won’t say most) want and it’s bullshit. It’s all the so-called good stuff and none of the committment or obligation. Nice try buddy.

Needless to say, of course I heard from him again days later. Checking in and saying hello, and then ultimately asking if I’d like to go out again. Hmmm…..

“Is this us going on a date or going out as friends?” I asked.

“How about friends going out on a date?!” he lamely offers up.

So what am I supposed to do with that now? Ah, fuck it, I’ll go. I’m not feeling vulnerable like I’ll get hurt because I’m so on the fence anyhow. But I need to at least kiss this guy to see if we have any sexual chemistry since our social chemistry is fair but a bit awkward in my opinion. Perhaps this will tip me over the fence one way or the other.

But here’s the kicker…..he doesn’t drink…..or smoke….or drink coffee….or eat sushi. I mean my entire social existence is based on those things! So I ask – if you go out to dinner on a date,and you don’t drink, and there’s a certain nervous awkwardness and questionable things in common…..what do you do when you’re done eating???

Which was where we wrapped up date number two btw.

I don’t know about him, but I needed to be a little buzzed in this scenario while I test the waters. So outside of me acquiring some kind of date rape drug, how am I supposed to loosen up, loosen him up and see if there is anything lying beneath the surface with Clark Kent? I should note that his texts throughout the week were consistently sexual in nature, despite us barely touching skin beyond a good-bye kiss on the cheek and then peck on the lips. He was giving definitive, wolf in sheep’s clothing vibe and I’ve been down this road before.

The best looking, most charming, sexiest guys (The Pilot, The Greek, Still Married Guy etc.) all had a magical spell over me until we hit the sack. Then their mystical powers vanished and then what I was left with was a selfish or inadequate lover who clearly has never been told by, or asked a woman what actually works and what clearly doesn’t. And I guarantee they all think they’re spectacular in bed.

But I digress…..

The flip side to this coin is that the mild-mannered, somewhat nerdy, non-player, average Joes have always been amazing when it comes to pleasing a woman (namely me) and can’t seem to do enough to make me happy and pleasantly surprised and left with a newfound respect and sense of wonder and delight.

So I just KNEW Clark Kent would be good. I just felt it. He has no vices he’s got to be a sexual deviant or at the very least, damn good in bed.

He asked me to a museum and it was one of those days that I just felt like nesting in. Watching a movie, making dinner and wearing loose clothes or sweats if possible. He happily agreed and I knew I had to get him drunk, or at least tipsy and test these waters….

Since I don’t like to describe my sexual exploits (simply hint to them), I’ll say I made my famous sangria that just about any non-drinker will imbibe with delight. I threw in a pinch of rum, clearly disguised by the sugar and wham! We’re good to go. Home cooked meal, a biz of booze and he’s at my place. I’m no dummy.

Yadda yadda yadda….

We talked and cooked and dinner was fucking delicious if I must say so myself. Peruvian roasted chicken with brown rice, salad and cilantro dressing. Again questioning our chemistry and if we were on the same wave length, I was still stuck on the board and waiting to grab my get out of jail or you’ve won a beauty contest collect $200 to move this thing ahead or back two steps to get out of the holding pattern in my brain.

My so-called plan worked. He eventually leaned in and kissed me and I knew from that moment this was going to be good….And I was right.

So do I like him now? Still not sure. But it’s nice to have options.

Why You Don’t Shit Where You Eat….and other important life lessons

Was on the train early the other morning in my usual half daze. Somehow managed to squeeze myself into a seat and started to slowly enjoy my steaming hot Starbucks Venti. Most mornings I’m so engaged in my morning ritual of AM NY or Metro, the free newspapers given out by homeless men which satisfy my need for a. a small paper to hold while balancing my purse, coffee and whatever crap I’m dragging into the office b. a quick read of the hot news topics and c. my daily horoscope – but today the near comatose speed baristas killed a solid 10 minutes to make my damn coffee so I had to wiz by the paper boys, only to have to stare at fellow passengers and the Dr. Zizmore skin or teeth ads on the train (I’ve been looking at his ads for years and still not sure exactly what it is he treats).

Two stops in, and a well dressed guy gets on the train or at least moves in front of me…directly in front of me but with his back facing me. I see a portion of his face and I think….shit…..I’m pretty sure….it’s Hurricane Man. Only his hair is grown in (he had randomly shaved a really luxurious head of hair for absolutely no reason). I feel my palms began to sweat and a flush comes over me. I’m patting down my forehead in a panic…..do I say hello? Randomly look off into empty space or try to find an old Con Ed bill in my bag I can fully engross myself into and look engaged for the remainder of this twenty-five minute ride downtown??

Shit, but what if it’s NOT him?! How dumb do I feel then?! But I also don’t want to give him satisfaction of him thinking I’m avoiding him….what to do….what to do…what to….ooops……he got off at 42nd Street. I know he works downtown but maybe he switches trains there…..or…..he saw me and figured he was getting off that train regardless of where it stopped next. Who knows.

I had to confront him….in the most non-confrontational way of course. I sent him an email simply asking him if he was wearing green cords today? As awful as it sounds, this guy (whomever he is) was actually quite dapper and well put together – in spite of or because of the green cords with the snazzy blazer and debonair scarf and stylish carry/bag. And no, I don’t think he was gay….but nothing surprises me – so who knows.

He responds…“No why” and then we went back and forth and I told him which train I saw the guy from afar (lie) on and he responded “I was on that train this morning” to which I replied “that’s why I think it was you.” This went back and forth a few times to the point where he actually seemed unsure if this was in fact him when I finally answered “wouldn’t you know if you were wearing green cords?!”

“How are you? How you been?” and a bunch of other bullshit questions trying to be polite ensued and then I eventually stopped writing. He clearly has or had limited interest in me but the last thing I need is to have someone in Manhattan (no less my neighborhood AND work neighborhood) that I’m trying to avoid.

Because in all my years living here I can say without question……if you try to avoid someone in this city of 8 million….you will without question bump into them.

Dating a guy in your neighborhood has its definite drawbacks.

Clark Kent

Hurricane Man is out like his predecessor Sandy. Although I have a strong feeling I’ll hear from him again at some point telling me how busy he’s been…bla bla…bla…bla…blaaaa……I’m bored. If I can’t even rely on you as a booty call, what good are you?clark kent is superman

So I went on a date last week with a guy I’m intrigued by, yet on the fence about. On paper we have a lot in common. On paper he’s a great catch. But there’s an “X” factor…something wrong or missing (I’m assuming) that I can’t quite put my finger on…yet.

Handsome, clean cut, seems relatively successful, intelligent, well-traveled and educated forty something…..Never married…no kids…uh oh….watch for falling shoes…to drop.I’m getting a Clark Kent vibe from him.

He’s a little nerdy for lack of a better word. He has no game, and I’m always on the fence deciding if that’s a good or bad thing. Of course I don’t want a player, but a man who knows how to date, how to treat a woman, how to PLAN a date. I’m not looking for chivalry (God forbid) but just some old-fashioned pleasantries to take the sting out of the wretchedness of dating.

Doesn’t drink, or smoke or do drugs. No tattoos, no notable vices. Sounds like a snoozer I know. But to offset this, he is incredibly well travelled….a HUGE plus in my book. Very adventurous and has family in corners of the globe and apparently the will and desire to take off at a moment’s notice. So I wonder, has he never married because of this whole vagabond/citizen of the world crap? Is that why I’ve never married? Or…is he just a closet deviant with female body parts in jars and bags under his bed?  It’s a 50/50 shot at this point.

I always seem to be drawn to a specific type of personality. Charming, smooth, sarcastic, funny…..and ultimately….kinda douchey when they’re not being charming. Always a yin for the yang. This guy, although well spoken, has a sort of awkward quality to him. I’m just not sure if that will irk or entice me. Something about him reminds me of the Brainiac Cowboy, but cuter….and hopefully dresses better. Not really my type, but a possible option and contender. The first kiss will be critical.

So besides him falling asleep during our conversation (eyes closing, me catching him before the full nod-off) he was a perfect gentleman on our first meeting. Note that once I confronted him “Uhhhh are you sleeping?!” he ran to the counter and purchased a triple shot espresso beverage and then explained how he was coming off three hours of sleep the night before.

It’s one of those wait and see scenarios, I’m being open-minded and I really need to go out again before forming an opinion. But here’s the kicker…Clark Kent appears to be a closet perv. He hasn’t said anything inappropriate but he’s definitely putting his feelers out there. Him texting me at 11 pm asking me if I’d like him to come over was the first indicator. Subsequent messages packed with sexual overtones and double entendres sealed the deal. Apparently I send out a sex goddess vibe I’m completely unaware of! Of course I find that intriguing as hell. Wolf in sheep’s clothing and all that jazz. Let’s just hope it’s not of the Ted Bundy/Craigslist Killer variety.

Things to be cautious of…him noting that he isn’t looking for a relationship per se, but if it happens that’s great. I fucking hate when they say that because it’s really bullshit. It’s simply code for “I want to hook up with no strings….unless I decide I’d like to pursue you….so don’t hold me to it.” Second clue…his profile says he’s looking for “friends and activity partners.” WTF?

Jeeeeez Louise!!! Doesn’t anyone older than 25 and younger than 65 want to be in a relationship?!

With me anyhow???

My Existential Moment in the Back of a NYC Taxicab

I always thought wanting it all and having it all were simply by-products of hard work and determination. What scares me is, now after all these years of life, I’m really wondering if that entire concept actually exists. Or if it is supposed to be a concept we use as a tool to constantly strive for something. Something more…or something else.

For pretty much the entirety of my adult life, I have found myself seeking and searching for something I don’t have and yet still want. I think Carrie Bradshaw once remarked about how New Yorkers are always looking for a job or an apartment….or a man. And if she didn’t say that, then perhaps it was me – because it has truly been the story of my life. One out of three. Two out of three. Two and a half…..no wait, I hate that fucking job, we’re back to two. What do you mean you think I’m great but you don’t want to be in a relationship asshole? Whoops…..back to one! Is it me who can’t seem to have it all or does everyone go through this? Or do most normal people not torture themselves with this and just have lower expectations? Am I tortured by my own hopes and dreams? Quite possibly yes.

So I’m in the back seat of a cab, making the long trip home after an exhausting day at work, looking out the window, at all the sights and lights of the city – feeling like I should feel happy and grateful and yet I find myself feeling worried, anxious, stressed, tired and wondering if I can have my cake and eat it too. Can I and will I ever have the career, the man, the relationship, the security, stability and the “things” be it material or emotional, that I’ve always longed for? I yearn for balance of work and personal life but I seem to merely swing like a pendulum back from one extreme to the other.

Work= stress=money=no life/no time.

No work=free time=stress=no money=feelings of inadequacy.

Fuck me! I swear the people I watch on tv seem to have it all, why can’t I?!

Some days I enjoy the hopeful prospect of meeting new people in the search for the man…well the man I’ve been searching for. Other days I’m just so spent I wish I could simply come home to someone to cook me dinner and rub my feet. Instead I have to figure out how I’m going to look fresh and act enthused about a first date I don’t want to be on with someone who doesn’t know a thing about me. I work all day and then have to put on my Meryl Streep to appear all breezy, fun and just so full of enthusiasm with someone who’s life story I’ll be subjected to over the course of a glass of wine and nachos.

I’m not sure if I’m feeling down per se, or simply reflective. Maybe I’m just too complex to be happy. Maybe I need better meds. Maybe I need to start drinking. Maybe I need to start studying eastern philosophy. I worry too much, I think too much, I care too much and I put too much pressure on myself. These qualities are reflected in every pore of my being at work and in my personal life. I am truly my own worst enemy.

I know I’m lucky in many ways, but that doesn’t ease the stress. Does writing help? Sure. And I don’t have time for real therapy anyhow. Will tomorrow be a better day? Who knows. All I know is I’ll feel better about it all for about 10 minutes when I get home and open up the box of new boots I ordered online.

This Too Shall Pass

Thinking of my fellow New Yorkers (even those I’ve dated), as well as the rest of the East Coast communities that have lost so much.

As the news and media fades away, so many will be forced to rebuild and repair, starting anew. New Yorkers have a certain resilience, and I’m constantly blown away by how times like this can bring out the best in people.

Give time, give clothing, give money and give prayers….all needed badly.

p.s. Hurricane Man and  still haven’t met. That clock is a tickin’

Shut The Front Door!*#&%!

When I used to read comments or messages or even see pictures on Facebook of or from Still Married Guy, at first it would hurt me…or I’d feel jealous…or sad….and obsessive. But instead of deleting him, (because I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of getting the best of me), I decided I would exercise restraint and just not go to his page or read his posts. But I still thought of him – often.

When the focus in my life switched to my career and my love life was officially on hold, the pain gradually lessened and the anger began to build. I’d much rather be angry than hurt. Albeit, apathy would be the preferred emotion, I’m not quite there yet. I’ve been tempted many times to send him one of my famous “fuck you” emails just to make him feel like shit for how he treated me and make him aware that he surely had no idea how much he hurt me. But I didn’t. Maybe I want him to see me flourish without him, and then feel like shit. Now I read his comments or messages and simply say (out loud mind you) Fuck you asshole, shut the fuck up! So I suppose I do still care, but it’s peppered with hatred…a step in the right direction!

So my career is once again taking me back on the road and I’m heading back to New York again. I’m not expecting any miracles, but I’m moving for work and hoping the love will fall in line after that. I’ve taken a look online and sure, there are plenty of familiar faces. Funny how these guys don’t seemed to have aged (some even turning back the hands of time) and some lame-asses are still using pictures that were old 2,3, 4 years ago. What’s old is always new again.

I wound up meeting with the Right Up My Alley dude. He picked a really cute but pricey townhouse bar/restaurant and greeted me at the door with oversized hipster glasses and a big smile. He was adorable, super cute, sweet, fun. We sat for about 2 or 3 hours talking about everything under the sun. We had a lot in common and similar backgrounds. Needless to say the man-child alert flag was at full staff, but that didn’t surprise me a bit. 40 never married, living in Williamsburg, Brooklyn but I was digging him nonetheless.

We wrapped things up and walked him to the subway and me to a cab. He made no mention of seeing me, calling me or speaking with me again. Oh but he did wish me luck on my interview the next day! Yup, a great date that I’ll never see again. So I ask myself, what’s worse, a shitty date that I never want to see (i.e.: Iced Tea douchebag) or a great date that is just that…..ONE great date. The lesser of two shitty things I suppose.

Chapter 642, my new life….again!