I went to dinner with one of my teacher friends tonight. The conversation revolved around our personal lives. Her mom is terminally ill and her former husband/current boyfriend just isn't cutting it. She loves him, of course, but is no longer in love. She claims he lives too far away, it's an hour and a half commute one way. (His kids are a little younger than hers, they tried living together while the girls were teenagers. That led to the divorce. They continued to date though, with separate residences.)

 

I don't have anyone special at the moment. I had a blind date scheduled for last night but didn't end up going. He told me, via text, that he didn't think I seemed interested. Full disclosure, when my friend sent me a picture of him and asked if I'd go out with him, I said, "Yes, but give me 3 weeks, I'm crazy busy at work, I just don't have time to focus on someone new." He looks like Guy Ritchie, is 40, and never married, no kids. Looked tall, too. (Not sure about the golf, I should have asked. He looked like a golfer, though.) Anyway,  he texted the next day. She also told him to call rather than text. I can't even begin to tell you how much a phone call elevates my interest 10-fold. Seriously. Men just don't do it anymore. Such a shame. Honestly, I was a little interested in base running but he lives in Nashua. 

 

I have two who've asked to take me out for "drinks" who live in NH. I don't feel like dating someone  who lives there or in Maine. Or Vermont. Maybe Rhode Island but it's unlikely. I'm not moving to any of those places. I'd move to California, NYC or close by, Connecticut, Chicago, or somewhere close to Boston. I'd also consider Nashville.

 

I know it seems weird to not have an interest in someone because of where they live. It's more than that though. Unlike my friend, I'd drive hours to see someone with whom I had a connection. Those other New England states are just too hickville for me. I don't want to live there. I suppose sleepy Chelmsford isn't much better. I'll move closer to work, eventually. I'm happy in my apartment and with my landlord. He treats me like a daughter. The whole family has been really kind to me, I feel very safe here. Plus, I'm close to my family.

 

Speaking of family, the other thing I wasn't excited about was that he didn't have children. When I told my (divorced with two grown children) friend that I'd prefer a single dad, she said people with kids have an instant bond. She split with her husband when her two were little. She didn't like dating non-dads. That was deflating. I wonder if single dads typically feel the same? I really don't want to date someone with grown children. Most of my nieces and nephews are five and under. I am almost 15 years older than all my cousins on my step-dad's side of the family. I didn't like that growing up. Nor do I want to potentially end up with someone without them. I suppose it would make travel easier, though.

 

Can I just tell you? I anticipate a move this summer. My eight ball tells me things are going to work out great on the job front. It also told me to get back on Tinder and start dating local again. My friend and I talked about waning interest, too. She reminded me that men go after what they want, I shouldn't be daydreaming about anyone text chatty who doesn't initiate a meeting in person. At the driving range…

 

I don't feel like Tindering, yet. (Although, a base runner may be required. Stat.) I don't want to date anyone in the Lowell area. The men look too rough around the edges and worn. I don't like that. The accent doesn’t bother me. The Framingham area ones are definitely better than the Worcester ones but not a ton better than the Lowell ones. I don't know what's wrong; this time of the year has me too busy to think about sharing any of my time with a casual "someone." I'd rather go out with my sister and her kids or friends on the weekends.

 

I may need to use a Boston address and focus my time there. Who knows? According to my eight ball, I may make a move to Cambridge. #fingerscrossed

 

All good things must come to an end, I suppose. I dumped Tinder. Out of the hundreds of men on there, I swiped right 15-20 times, at the most. Of those 15-20 matches, only half made it to a first date, two made it to a second date, and only one round the bases. Slim pickings. It must be me.

 

It served it's purpose though. Most of them had been married. They all said the same thing led to divorce, communication. It was really important for me to hear that and look in the mirror. Many of my relationships fizzled, in part, because of a lack of communication.  I generally express myself fine in most situations but, oftentimes clam up when I'm with someone I really like; which is a shame because I don't have any problems communicating exactly how I feel with someone I only like so-so.  I don't get much practice, though. I hate wasting my time with those men, I'd rather make plans with my friends.

 

Since I am always trying to improve and I do truly want to settle down, I found a therapist. She asked what I wanted to get out of therapy, I told her I wanted to communicate better. I felt a little nervous and weird about going. I don't see myself as the therapy type. I can't imagine anyone in my family going. (Lord knows they could use it!)

 

I foolishly booked my first session during my lunch hour. That was a mistake. I cried my eyes out then had to lead two important work meetings with red, puffy eyes. Crazy. I started talking about dating and why I was there. Before I knew it, I was mourning the death of motherhood. Waterworks. Dramatic, I know. It was weird. I've always talked about having children. Now that I'm 43, it really is unlikely. (My 2015 birthday was difficult. My doctor told me that was the cutoff year for IVF of my eggs. If I wanted children and needed it, it would have to be with someone else's eggs. So, that's the end of that.) I was happy to get it out though and felt that I had come to terms with it.

 

I still needed to work on communication. Can I just  tell you? I saw my therapist for about 3 months, it was one of the best investments in myself I've ever made. I felt like I just let everything go, all the built-up crap of years of lousy relationships. I also started to understand my patterns and why I was making those poor choices. I'm far from perfect but certainly standing on a solid foundation. It was funny, once a few pent up feelings started to come out, they all came out in a rush. I felt lighter after each session.

 

On our last session, she asked if I felt like I needed to see her anymore. A part of me wanted to say, "yes" because it was so nice to be able to vent and not worry about being rude with the conversation being one sided but, I knew I was fine. So, I graduated, magna cum laude in communication skills. Bring it. Who knows? I may give Tinder another shot.

Damn you, Betty. I saw her recently. Thankfully, her timing is off and mine seems to be back on. I met someone on Tinder who annoyed the crap out of me. He was a little older than me and had a daughter. Betty's premonition for me, shortly after I let him go, was that I was going to meet someone "older with a little girl."

 

Had I met Annoying Guy (AG) after talking to Betty, I may have ignored all the warning bells going off in my head telling me to change direction. Quick. Instead I listened to my brain for once and let that ship sail.

 

I can't go to psychics anymore. I've always said it's a slippery slope. (Queen of cliché's, btw. Don't judge.) Over the years, I've listened to these loonies like they were spewing gospel. I am ridiculous as a whole but, my brain usually knows what's up. It's the rest of me that slows down in the hops that someone out there is of soul mate material.

 

The past monologues in my brain have gone something like this, "What's that? You have a butt plug? Hmm. Sounds like we're on different journeys. Good luck to you." The rest of me reasons, "Welllllllll, can we make that work?" No. We can't. Nor do we want to. Why? Because it's completely our of my realm of possibility or interest and I'm 100% certain I'm all set with that business. (FYI, if you're into it, I've read recently that it leads to leakage. Out the back. No good, nobody likes a Poopy Pants.)

 

I've asked it before, "When did dating get so weird?" AG was telling me, on one of our dates, about a previous date he'd had with a woman who was into fet.com. When he was explaining it, I thought he said, "fat.com." I assumed she was into fat dudes. Yum. No, he clarified it was 'fet' not 'fat' then proceeded to tell me a story she shared with him about naked dinners in dark rooms with strangers going from table to table like speed dating but sharing their fettishes.

 

Ummmm. Of course, I was horrified but at the same time intrigued. He noticed my renewed interest and continued the story. Apparently, this woman ended up at a table with a naked man, she was naked too, and he told her he wanted her to chew his food and feed it to him from her month.  Can I just tell you? You could have knocked me over with a feather. My jaw hit the bar. I honestly thought I had heard everything from Mr. Butt Plug. Nope, that was a new one. Gross. A part of me wanted to hear more… big part actually (only for the story factor) but, I told him he could stop.

 

Can you imagine? People are f'ed up. Seriously. Anyway, I went out on a few more dates with him because on one of the dates, we did make out for a while by my car. I wanted to reassess if I liked him or if my cross-eyed drunkenness had something to do with it. Plus, he was an avid golfer. (My requirements include: must golf and be able to make me laugh.) After the next sober date, I knew my answer. I really shouldn't drink on dates. My beer goggles are super thick. He wasn't even funny. I can only blame the multiple dates on golf.

 

Anyway, back to loony Betty. When I first saw her two years ago, she said my soul mate was a CEO type, dark hair, light eyes who I'd meet by the water. Prior to her, one told me he was an MLB player. She said she could see the whole thing, he was going to see me in the crowd and give me his number to call. When I questioned why he was giving me his number rather than taking mine, she explained he was in his uniform, no pen. I swooned. Didn't happen. Clearly. Now, I'm old and my angry elevens are permanent. No one is picking me out of a crowd at this point.

 

Well, during this last time with Betty, she said he was a regular guy with a manager job plus another thing he does on the side with his hands. I can't go back. I've gone from professional athlete, to CEO, to Manager with second job. Next stop will be gas attendant!

 

She could tell I was disappointed and disenchanted. She said, "I don't normally do this but, I'm going to give you a blessing." "Okay, Ghandi," I thought.  She started to chant, "Om Nimah Shivaya."  Apparently, this was a blessing from her guru, Guramin and meant to help someone find great love.

 

On my way home, I found myself chanting, "Omm Shaka Laka, Omm  Shaka Laka…" then burst into laughter. #stillsearching #goofball #matchforsomeone?