So, I actually started this entry like two weeks ago. But life, as it tends to do, has gotten in the way and I haven't had time to finish it until now. Oh well. Rewind to the weekend of October 1st.
I have had a simply beautiful weekend. Friday night the girls came over for dinner. I made spaghetti with meat sauce, veggies, and salad. We sat together, laughed together, and smooshed together on my little couch to watch a movie together. I don't remember feeling that giddy in a long time. I'm pretty sure I crawled into my pink bed and fell asleep smiling from ear to ear. On Saturday I soaked up the delicious fall breeze on my back porch with a cup of coffee and a cupcake, then went to a housewarming party. There was a bonfire, a clear, starry night sky, and my best friend huddled next to me. Today I should be feeling good. But instead, I am reminded of my loneliness. My original intent was to publish each of my "Internet Dating (Mis)Adventures" as separate stories, filled with lots of funny details and self-deprecating humor. It was even suggested to me that I write a book of all my hilarious experiences. But as time has gone on, its become more and more difficult for me to find the humor in them. Perhaps I've mulled over them too much at this point... I don't know. But now feel a bit burdened and embarrassed by them. They feel more like a list of my failures, really. My disappointments. And now I just want to be done with them. So, I'm posting them here, in a little purging ceremony of my own creation. The last of my internet dating (mis)adventures. Abridged for your sake.
Glover, the needy, almost-gay vet tech with no car. Claimed he "didn't have any condoms" shortly after I made the mistake of making out with him on the bed in his tiny, one room garage-turned-apartment. (To which I promptly responded that I "didn't have any time to stay.") The bed which was the bottom in a bunk bed set. The top bunk belonged to his four year old daughter. The Sesame Street sheets were the last straw. Lesson learned: When a guy says his car is "in the shop" and needs a ride to the date, what he really means is "I'm a pushover and a huge waste of your time."
Hank, the sexy, incredibly handsome fireman who took me out on Halloween night, got us both back safely to my place after a drunken but incredibly fun night out, and surprisingly didn't even try any moves on me in bed. Took me out a few more times, swept me off my feet, and was a real gentleman. Thoughtful, sensitive, intelligent. I could have fallen head over heels in love with this guy. Yet he dropped me like a bad habit three weeks later in favor of his psycho ex-girlfriend. The one he swore he could never go back to, but who was obviously more familiar, and more safe to him, than me. Yeah... that one stung. Bad. Lesson learned: Karma is a bitch.
Logan, the ex-marine gym manager with PTSD and night terrors, who had an amazing body and didn't mind being a fuck buddy, but who also drank all the liquor at my place (including an entire bottle of $65 champagne) on New Year's Eve and became so drunk and belligerent that at one point had his hands around my neck. I kicked him out of my apartment and called the police shortly afterward when he remained outside my door, shirtless, screaming at me. Lesson learned: the terms "marine," "manager," and "New Year's toast" unfortunately now make me shudder a little with fear.
Sam, the fast-talking ex-frat boy with braces, in school to be an orthodontist, who was just now getting his life together at 30 years old, but who still enjoyed partying with the barely legal sorority girls when he wasn't cramming for his MCAT. On our first date together he actually spoke in text-language. He literally said "BRB" right before he got up to go to the bathroom, and said "OMG" and "LOL" the way a 13-year-old would in a conversation at the mall. Lesson learned: I teach middle schoolers. I don't want to date them.
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