As predicted, my Friday night also didn’t work out as expected. When the contractor made plans with me, he gave me a heads up that depending on his work schedule it may not pan out. Having dated several contractors, I’m now pretty knowledgeable about their work life restrictions, so didn’t expect to see him.
At least he didn’t ghost this time. A long text arrived early Friday morning that he had to work late that night and all weekend. It was no problem. Ann 2.1 welcomes time to write.
I worked late Friday night and left the office only when my stomach told me I should. Zane once asked when I “got off work” and I had to explain it simply doesn’t happen that way for me. I work until what I need to get done is done, but I also often control the schedule and can choose to leave at 4 pm on a Friday and do the rest over the weekend. But not this Friday.
I do feel quieter, mentally. It’s all relative, I suppose. I still wake up with thoughts of lost friendship and lost potential, but it’s the exception, not the rule. I don’t miss online dating. I’d left one app on my phone called Inner Circle – it’s new-ish and proved to be completely useless: only two men in my city on the app over the age of 38, my height or more, with a college education and children. TWO.
If I removed the “children” requirement there were maybe twenty.
A 28 year-old tall handsome professional reached out to me. He said he loved older women and I seemed to be exactly his type. He was interesting and articulate and figured I had nothing to lose by responding. We texted back and forth for a week. He flaked on a date we’d booked for tonight and I didn’t care one bit. Continue reading →
Zane and I have seen each other several times since we met at the party a few weeks ago. He wanted to see me again as quickly as possible, so we snuck in a short drink date the next day before I got Liam for the week. I liked him as much one-on-one as in the party atmosphere.
He is soft-spoken and very articulate. While he says he’s an old man inside and is worldly, he’s clearly in his mid-thirties. He asked me for advice on my work success and I died a little inside: it’s not the kind of relationship dynamic I’m looking for.
He’s told me how beautiful he thinks I am and marvels at how captivated he is. But he has none of the creepy clinger vibe of John. He’s not in love with love. In contrast, he tells me he’s picky and I believe him. Continue reading →
Expectation management: it’s a thing. Having no or low expectations means they are more likely to be exceeded. Hope is the enemy of expectation management. But what is better? Regular dating disappointment with occasional glimmers of excitement, or never having the pain?
In investing, we talk about risk-reward. High-risk investments are those more likely to provide higher gains. But they could also wipe out your savings. Conversely, advisors will tell you the earlier you can get in the market the better, even with small amounts and low-risk investment vehicles.
Given my experiences this year, I’ve been thinking about the number of dating disasters I’ve had. It occurred to me it could have more to do with the volume of men I’ve met, than consistent bad choices or inherent bad luck. In other words, if I’ve met one hundred men and had twenty crap experiences, it’s not a worse track record than someone who meets ten and has only two to speak of. Continue reading →
While it was very early days with Gregory, it was a good a time as any to clear the stable of men to make some room, both mentally and physically.
Late the next morning, Gregory messaged me with the text from his friend who had failed to deliver the Veuve Cliquot as requested. I was so pleased he even thought about it, I wasn’t fussed. And even better, I liked that he had talked to his friend about me.
He told me he had totally restrained himself that night in my kitchen. I loved it on two fronts: that he found me appealing, and that he had some self-control. He said he didn’t want to scare me off, and I told him it was good he now knew it was an unwarranted fear.
Which immediately had me thinking about what would happen the next time I was alone with him. Continue reading →
The morning after my first date with Gregory, I was excited. It was a nice change to have had such a great intellectual and physical connection, with a man who seemed to be on the ball and in contrast to some of my recent experiences, well-balanced. Lots of commonalities to explore.
Even my Mom hadn’t seen any red flags in her internet searches.
I told myself to chill out and take Gregory as he comes. Given what I had been experienced with John, I was keenly aware there is reasonable excitement at potential, versus the crazy-town reaction of expecting everything is going to work out. I was determined to not give any impression I was like John. Because I’m not. I had no idea what potential we actually had.
I was admittedly a little concerned I hadn’t heard back from Gregory. I know some people tend to reduce their communication pace after a date is booked, but to not reply to a text at all? While I told myself everything was fine, the cynical I’ve-had-the-worst-luck part of me was stomping her mental foot deep down. I wasn’t sure if this Tinder date was going to happen.
But my burner app had been flaking out and I’d been receiving sorry-the-server-is-down notifications, so I suspected it was that. I didn’t want to text again on the burner app, since if it didn’t work the first time there was no guarantee it would work the second.
Bryon and his family’s’ social media accounts showed a very affluent family. He lived the places he said he did. There were pictures of his wife and him together, with and without their adult children, but nothing since year-end 2016.
The conclusion I drew was he perhaps was single, perhaps, but there is no way he’d been split for six years unless they had an unconventional relationship. And if that was the case, if he was actually seeking a new relationship he would be smart enough to say “yes my ex and I are very close, we still do things together blah blah.”
It occurred to me much later that he was so arrogant he didn’t think he needed to do so. He didn’t think anyone would check out his family’s profiles or didn’t care what it showed if they did. Perhaps most women didn’t see the red flags or were blinded by his luxury lifestyle and fancy parties. Continue reading →
I love the conversations I have with Hyacinth when we are confused about the male topics of conversation. “Which one is he again, Ann?” she’ll exclaim, “you know I can’t keep any of them straight!”
Admittedly, between the two of us, it is a little difficult. There are too many men with the same name or same characteristics.
And right now, I’m very behind. I could have written five posts about John already. Looking at the week ahead I know I won’t get caught up, so this is my attempt to do a round up to the current date (pardon the pun). My “men in the mix” page is proving very helpful for me, but not sure if anyone else is taking a look. I just updated it, if you’re interested. Continue reading →
This one really made me angry. Bryon wasn’t a catfish in the traditional sense, but he was fishing for something, with no intent to catch this fish.
I knew he was lying about something, right from the beginning – I will tell you why shortly. But being focussed on that lie prevented me from noticing the other signs of a catfish right away.
Perhaps the most frustrating thing for me is to meet someone who was what I seek. You know, if not for the whole douchebag thing. He was intelligent, accomplished, and interesting. But he was an intellectual bully.
He was also likely married. Or at the very least, nowhere near as single as he professed. Continue reading →