Wow, Miracles Really DO Happen

As some of you may know from my posts on Facebook, I am currently dating a man. I know, I know. As Em says on Facebook all the time: I am a dating machine. I can't help it. I refuse to give up. I feel like so many others have already given up on me, that I refuse to do it to myself.

Anyway, this guy (I have no nifty nickname for him yet) is great. There for a second I thought this other guy might have been interested in me, and I thought I made it known I was interested in him, but either he didn't get the hint or he was interested in me. Either way, he never made his move, and the new guy did, so c'est la vie.

New guy. Mr. No Nickname. He is not perfect. But he is super interesting. And most importantly, he accepts me (and others!) for who they are. He appreciates the fact that I do not immediately judge people at first glance and only dislike others once they have wronged me, and even then I forgive most of my friends for previous wrongdoings. (You know who you are.)

Doin' Good

For the first time in a very long time, I am doing well after a breakup. I know I made the right decision, and I am really happy with it. Sure, I get a little sad sometimes when something reminds me of him, but then I just remind myself (sometimes not so gently) that I do not miss him, I just miss what I thought he could have been.

And I think that has been a lot of my problem in my life. I miss a variety of things, but did they ever actually exist? Or is it all a figment of my imagination? Did I imagine that one boyfriend in college really liking me as much as I thought he did? Did I convince myself of that at the time because it was more interesting and (a lot) more fun? Of course, I am willing to admit that there is always a bit of exaggeration in all memories. (That was my focus of my master's comp exams, so of course I know it better than most.) But I have finally came to the conclusion that my biggest disappointments are my own fantasies.

I have blamed Hollywood for quite some time, despite my fascination with everything movie-land. From the time I realized that not ALL girls get the guy, I was in for a world of disappointment. It has only taken me 32 years to realize that world doesn't exist. Except for in my head.

Alas, It Is True

Odd, seeing this post is right after a picture of us together, but as of today, the dude in the picture below and I are no longer.

I know. It came as a shock to me too when I realized I was happier thinking about us breaking up than staying together. Here's the skinny.

One day last week, yours truly was not feeling so well. I had a headache; I was tired. I was on the phone with Mr. Smarty Pants and he made fun of me one too many times. I requested that he stop making fun of me. He persisted. I explained how I didn't feel well and could he please stop making fun of me. He persisted. I explained that I WAS P.M.S.ING and he needed to stop or I was going to hang up. He replied, "You need to stop being so sensitive. I'm not making fun of you to be mean. I making fun of you to make myself laugh."

Now, this "man" has been married before and had a child with a different woman. He knows the workings of a menstrual cycle. And perhaps the reason he is not with the other two women any longer IS BECAUSE HE IS A MORON WHEN IT COMES TO WOMEN.

So, I was angry. I didn't say anything, nor did I hang up. I let him have his little "funny" attack on me. I politely said good bye and hung up. I calmed down the next day, and I called him to explain why I was upset the day before. I calmly (mind you: this is ALL NEW to Micaela. Micaela doesn't do calm angry. She does Angry angry) told him that it bothered me that he didn't respect my wishes when I asked him to stop making fun of me, and that it made me feel like he didn't like me at all. He laughed and said I had anger issues and that I needed to talk to my therapist about it. Can we say Master Deflector?

Oh, anger issues, huh? He hadn't even SEEN anger issues yet! Had he talked to some of my exes? Some of my friends? Someone who had actually SEEN me angry? No. He just didn't want to talk about it. When I said that we could talk about it later, he said, "No, I don't want to. I only want to talk about fun things."

I, trying my hardest not to scream profusely at him at the top of my lungs, decided I would try to use my new anger-management skills. I thought about it. And I thought about it. And I thought about it some more.

I came to the conclusion that if this person is 40 years old, he will never change. He will always push my buttons when I am "sensitive" even when I request him not to. I also realized I am a communicator and he is not, and that I could not live with someone like that for the rest of my life. I decided that rather than suffer through a grueling three months to see if "we can work it out" I would just break it off now.

The immense sense of satisfaction I got from that realization was profound. I knew I had made the right decision when all of a sudden I felt at ease with everything. Nothing was bothering me. Everything seemed right with the world again. And now I am off to update my online dating profile.

Hi There! Long Time, No See!

I have heard it all before.

"You don't blog anymore."

"You aren't writing anymore."

But I have a good excuse. I'm happy!

I know it seems odd, but when I am happy, I can't write about it. I just can't do it. Everything I have to say seems so lame and cute and trite, that writing, well, makes me hate how happy I am.

For some reason, I feel I can express myself better with words only when I am angry. But when I am happy, all I feel like saying is stupid driveling shit that makes me want to puke on any other given day.

For instance, "I like him." Oh, God, I am making myself sick. Who cares? Who honestly cares if I like this guy or not? No one wants to hear me go on and on about how fantastic he is, and what other funny thing he said the other day. No one. And I don't blame you! Not at all! And my friends have to put up with it when I am talking because I adore talking. And I want to make myself puke then, too.

When I am happy and I sound like a teenage girl with a crush, I feel so dumb. I just simply don't know what to do with myself. So, rather than write, I wallow in the cheesy, boring to everyone else but me, lovey-dovey world that I am in right now. Suffice to say, I am happy! And having a good time.

And I won't bother you with it.

When it Rains It Pours, Part Deux

So, my apologies for not writing more lately. I got a new laptop (yeah!) and I have been moving files back and forth. And then I realized just how much music I have on my computer & decided that maybe it was time to just get an external hard drive.

And the other reason I haven't been writing lately is because I have been going on lots of dates. Lots and lots. And second and third dates. With more than one man in particular. Some of you may be wondering, "What if they see this blog and get mad?" In my defense, none of these men have said A WORD about dating exclusively, and honestly, I am still waiting for the other shoe to drop with every single one of them, so I figure I am not going to pin all my hopes and dreams on one single guy just yet. Look at what happened with the last guy.

Let me tell you about Mr. Policeman.

After I balanced my checkbook and realized that I was paying for 90% of all of our dates, I thought to myself, "Is opening doors and having a stable job ALL I am looking for?" The answer to that questions, friends, is a resounding NO!

He walks like a police officer. Maybe that is because the concealed weapon he carries at all times disrupts his swagger. Maybe. At first I thought this was cute, then I realized he has little-man complex.

Let me tell you about Dr. Waterborne Particles. He is smart, witty, also a writer, and loves the same kind of music I do. He also has a stable job and opens doors for me.

Let me tell you about Mr. Masseuse. He is smart, funny, honest, and possesses a very kind and calming personality. He also has a stable job and opens doors for me.

In hindsight, I was blinded by the light (read: a second date with a decent looking man). But I have moved on past that. I decided that the time is right to have a good time. And if I happen to meet someone along the way, then great.

Holy Shit! When It Rains, It POURS!

I have HUGE news. Big news. Big, big, big.

I went on a second date. And a third. And most likely, a fourth!

Yesp, that's right. I met someone NICE. It's pretty much a miracle. But let me tell you why I think he is so great. (I haven't thought of a clever nickname for him yet, so for now, I will call him...well, I've got nothing.)

1) He opens doors for me. After all the years of opening my own doors, it is super nice to have someone else open my doors.

2) He is semi-normal.
a) He has a job.
b) He doesn't have horns tatooed on his head.
c) We have been out three times, and never once has he asked me to pee on him!
d) He owns a car.
e) He does not live with his parents.

3) We like the same things: Hastings Music Store, Star Wars, sushi, people watching, movies, and BBQ.

4) He calls me when he says he is going to call me. And he calls me even when he says he won't call me. He texts me. He pays attention to what I say.

I realize that is only four things so far, but honestly, that does it for me!

Dating is Interesting

Well, good date never got back to me. In fact, he flat out snubbed me. I was upset for about a day, and then I decided to move on. I also decided that this was God's way of telling me that I shouldn't date a man with horns tattooed on his head. (Probably a bad sign, but hey, he LOOKED interesting.)

So, after a day of feeling sorry for myself, which I am getting REALLY good at, I decided I am done with dating. I've said it before, and I'll probably say it again, but this time I'm serious.

Or at least I would be if people would stop calling me and asking me out on dates.

I have one on Saturday, one early next week (sushi!) and one to be rescheduled from yesterday. And one of these dates is kinda a second date. A SECOND DATE! Something I haven't had FOR OVER A YEAR!!!! Needless to say, I am very, very excited.

OK, Finally, A Good Date

Is it true? Is it possible? Could it be? Or is it some elusive Batman/Superman figment of my imagination?

I had a good date. Or was it a dream?

As you may know, I have not been feeling up to my normal chipper self this past week, but I had a date last night. I didn't want to go, as it was at 9:00 pm, and since I had been feeling under the weather, I was trying to decide what to do. But I figured, why not go and get it over with?

But I was trying to stay positive. Look on the bright side. Try not to put this date down before I even meet him just because I had a slew of bad dates before. You know, be the opposite of how I actually feel. I don't know if it worked, or if I had some residual Vicodin-cough syrup in me, but I went on the date with a clear mind.

And he is great. Funny, crass, awesome, well-travelled. Like a man version of ME. (Except he is super laid back.)

Happy New Year!

One of New Year's resolutions is to actually keep up with this blog. I swear, people, it's not you, it's me. (Haven't heard THAT one in a while, huh?) But honestly, I am going to try to get into the swing of things.

Not much happened here today. Last night was a supremely disappointing New Year's Eve on my end. For the first time in 31 years, I had a real, bona-fide date for New Year's. And it didn't snow. And he didn't bail. And I didn't bail. And we were bored with the lack of fireworks, both literally and figuratively. (But before my date, I had a totally awesome gift exachange with friends, and I think everyone should exchange gifts AFTER Christmas, because then it makes it that more fun!)

All in all, I have found that he (I am purposefully failing to mention his name) and I, alas, will be much better friends than partners, and although I am more than a little sad about it, I will live.

So, onward, friends, into the great unknown! Resistance is futile.

Oh, the Joys of Dating

I went on my 4th date from the previously mentioned dating service. (I was at one time very disappointed in them, but have since learned a few things about their operations, and I am trying to be patient. We'll see. But this date is one of the reasons I was having a hard time staying positive.)

Fourth date and I were to meet at The Stonehouse Cafe, a cute little place with awesome outdoor seating. I couldn't eat too much because later that night I had a date with many a rib at The Best in the West Nugget Rib Cook Off! (Yum! Ribs!) Anyhoo, I got to the cafe right on time and waited for about 5 minutes when my uncle showed up!

OK, my REAL uncle didn't show up, but my date LOOKED EXACTLY LIKE HIM. Just like my uncle does now. Not fifteen years ago. The same. Mind you my uncle is my mother's OLDER brother. He's 56 years old. I'm 31. My age cut-off for my dates is 42. Now, if he would have strolled in looking just like Harrison Ford does right now, no problem. I'm down with some old Han Solo action. NOT old uncle action because, well, that makes me throw up a little in my mouth.

So, here I am, trying really hard not to laugh out loud, thinking, "This isn't this guy's fault that he looks like my uncle! I'm going to try to make the best of it." Then he spoke. And never shut up. "What color are your eyes?" he barked at me. "Brown," I replied. "Show me," he demanded. I lifted up my glasses, in defiance. What? Did he not believe me? Did he think I had color contacts in? I mean, seriously.

"I'm going to get into trouble for saying this, but I am going to say it anyway..." This was his segue into EVERY sentence he spoke. And I soon came to realize that this was his way of apologizing for the next thing to come out of his mouth, which was inevitably rude and obnoxious. In all actuality, he really wasn't sorry he was going to be rude. He just wanted me to know that he KNOWS he is being rude.

"What's wrong with you?" he barked loud enough for people three tables over to hear.

By this point in the conversation, I was done. I was ready to leave. Then he throws this disgusting and vile question at me, and it was all I could to not reply: "You and people like you are the problem. People who think that just because I am pretty, intelligent, and apparently desperate, I should have a boyfriend. But I do not settle. I will not settle. I will not settle to make society happy and to make myself seemingly happy. I will not settle just to make everyone around me more comfortable at parties and happy that 'I finally found someone.' I will not settle just because society thinks I am supposed to."

Instead, I replied, "I'm picky." And left it at that.

Then his phone rang. He answered it. It was his sister. This is how his end of the conversation went: "Oh, hey! What are you doin'? Me? Oh, I'm here in Reno on a date with a cute little redhead...(to me) are you a redhead? (Me: No, I'm brunette) (Him to the phone) oh, sorry, cute little brunette. What? No, she's pretty. She seems smart and she is easy to talk to. She's cool. She's ...What? Oh, she isn't here. Are you being good? You better. Ok, I better get back to my date or I'm gonna scare her off. Be good. Bye." Then to me: "That was my sister. I told her to be good because she has a drinking problem."

All I can think is: "God, please let a spaceship land, abduct me, anally probe me, and leave me for dead, because that will at least be less painful than this conversation."

Stranded on a Crappy Island

As some of you may know, I am addicted to Lost. I cannot get enough. And this morning, I was thinking that my dating life is much like being stranded on a crappy island.

1) All I want to do is get a decent boyfriend, much like all they want to do is get off the island.

2) Lame ass men = The Others.

3) It LOOKS like there is hope, but every time something good happens, someone goes and fucks it up. (i.e.: a submarine mysteriously appears, and then it gts blown up. Much like I think I am going out with a well-educated man who owns his own home, who actually turns out to be an apartment renter with a cat.)

4) Dating world: every (wo)man for himself. Same on the island. Oh, they may TALK like they are trying to help each other out, but everyone really is only in it for themselves. Just like dating.

5) In other words, dating and being stranded on a deserted island are very much the same: they both suck the hope right out from your soul. But you keep trying, or die trying. Frankly, right now, I would rather be stranded on that crappy island than stranded in this crappy dating world I call Reno.

Matchmaker, Matchmaker, Make Me a Match

After a few long weeks of debate, I decided to join a little club you may have heard of. It's name is something along the lines of "It's only a short meal during the middle of the day where you usually eat a sandwich". I am loath to write the whole name of the company because if anyone Googles it, and my blog comes up, my anonymity is blown. You understand.

However, this little program maybe the answer to many of my dilemmas. No longer will I have to suffer through dates who aren't serious about being in a relationship. No longer will I have to worry about the dreaded children conversation. No longer will I have to worry about "getting to know" the men before the first date.

Who knows. Possibly I have shot myself in the foot. I might have made the biggest mistake of my life. I might be setting myself up for only more heartache. However, my motto, if I ever had one is: "At least I can say I tried it."

The Year of Yes: Date #7

OK, OK, many of you are probably wondering why I went on another date when I said I was taking a break. I will explain. But seriously. Date #7 solidified by reasoning behind why I am taking said break. Freak.

I had emailed Freak (I could come up with a more clever nickname, but this one just sums it all up in one simple word, and I think it appropriate) a month ago. I never got a response. Whatever. It happens all the time.

Then I got an email last Saturday morning. Here is an excerpt:

"I feel awkward approaching you after such a long period of time but I really do have a good excuse. And if all good relationships are predicated on trust then I will hope that you will trust me when I give it to you. But if you want it (the explanation) you will have to email me back to get it. But I will say this much; just because it looked like I was active on Match at or around the time you contacted me doesn't mean I was. Please email me back. I am very interested in seeing if we have more in common than a love of humor (I really am a riot to be around when I got my comedy mojo game on)."

I responded: "OK, I'll bite. What's the deal? And I don't like to do the whole, let's email forever thing."

He replied that he didn't either, and we exchanged phone numbers, and set up a date.

Freak was freaky. To put it mildly.

1) He is a vegetarian because he doesn't want to hurt any kind of animal if not absolutely necessary. OK. Sounds good to me.

BUT

2) He likes "his" women to be submissive in bed. And he likes to abuse them. OK, so you won't eat a steak, but you will beat your girlfriend?

Like I said, he's a Freak.

So I got home and emailed him my normal polite response to any freaky date I have: Hey, nice to have met you, but we won't make a good match. (Read: Hey freakzaoid, lose my number, wish I would have never met you, and I wish I would have never wasted a perfectly good Saturday night hanging out with the likes of you, asshole.)

He responded with THIS little tidbit:

"I honestly, sincerely thank you for giving me an out, its hard when you are a considerate person and don't know how to tell people no, (that's what got me into that last situation, should have kicked her to the curb the first day I met her.) I tried to provide an out to you as well with some of my behaviors, I'm an actor at heart and all of life is a stage. By the way, I don't know how many women you've been with (I assume none) but you can't believe how many women are REALLY into being dominated. I am speaking from direct experience. I don't want to argue this with you, or belabor the point, but I know I am right about this. "

FREAK! Seriously, thank you for giving YOU an out? Did you not read the email message I sent you that said LOSE MY NUMBER, ASSHOLE? Did you not hear me when I said I had to go home because it was time for bed? Who says that on a first date who is interested in YOU? No one, that's who. And what does me being with other women have ANYTHING to do with how you like to dominate women in the bedroom? And since when is this kosher first-date topics of conversation?

Good God, what a freak.

A Little Hiatus

I have decided to take a break from Internet dating.

I know, I know, you are all wondering why I would do such a thing, considering how successful it has been!!

But seriously. I have come to the realization that all of the rejection that online dating entails is really getting to me emotionally and physically, and frankly it is starting to affect my true friendships as well as my work.

One can only go on so many dates without success before one goes bat-shit crazy. I have gone bat-shit crazy. At least I am intelligent enough to realize that if someone were to institutionalize me, they wouldn't be wrong.

Although the Year of Yes would work for some people, those people are not me. I just simply cannot keep putting myself out there for the rejection that is waiting for me. Right now, my mind needs a break.

But keep posted. I will still be doing things. Just not a lot of dating things. Have a wonderful day, and remember how important all the relationships in your life are, not just the ones you had once or the ones you wish you had.

The Year of Yes: Date #6

Mr. Geologist and I went on a date that was a long time coming. We had been chatting for a few weeks now, but he works as a geologist in the Mexican desert, and is home for 10 day stints. This weekend was one of them, so we decided to go out Saturday night.

He asked me where I wanted to go, but I told him that I didn't care. I'm here in Reno all the time, and if he wanted to go someplace in particular, I had no problem with that. (Besides, I am always looking for new places to Yelp about.)

He chose Italian, 7:30. I arrived at said destination looking quite beautiful. Really, it isn't often I leave the house saying to myself, "Damn! I look GOOD!" Anyway, I arrived, looking mighty fine, and a man comes out of the restaraunt and introduces himself as Mr. Geologist. I did a double take.

It was the infamous bait and switch.

He looked NOTHING like his picture. NOTHING.

Honestly, he looks a lot like my brother-in-law, and while Nater is quite handsome, I have a hard time not thinking of him as my kid sister's husband. I.e. YOUNG.

Mr. Geologist brought an excellent bottle of wine, which I appreciated, and was great. The food was amazing and the service was fun and lively. (See review on Yelp.com) Dinner was nice.

I thought to myself, "I can get over the fact that he looks like a baby. Beggars can't be choosers."

So, that night I went home and found an email sitting in my inbox: I had a great time; we should do this again sometime; maybe next time I can cook and we can watch a movie; etc. etc. I replied that I had a great time too and was looking forward to seeing him again.

The next day, another email: "I'm free anytime this week, just let me know." I emailed him to tell him that Monday night I was free for dinner and a movie. This was Sunday morning. Sunday afternoon I called to talk to him and to confirm for Monday night.

I haven't heard back from him since the email I got from him Sunday morning.

Seriously, I am starting to wonder if every man I date gets some exotic flesh-eating disease and can't call me. Their fingers are rotting off; that is the only explanation I can come up with. Why else would they take the time and trouble to invite me over if they aren't going to make good on their word? It isn't that hard to just not email me at all.

The Year of Yes: Date #5

Well, date number five was unexpected. I thought he was a little young for me (he's 23) and I was very wary of that. But he seems very nice and pretty normal and he likes his family. I only spent an hour with him, so I couldn't get a lot from the date, but I didn't run away screaming like I have in the past with other dates.

I have date #6 tomorrow, so we'll see. More to come soon.

Year of Yes: Potential Date #5

We went to Mother's Day brunch. The waiter was cute. I was feeling courageous. I left my phone number with, Nick, the waiter. He probably will not call me, but I feel good about the fact that I hardly even felt nervous about leaving my phone number. Courageous or stupid, I don't know.

It's Not THAT Year of Yes

I go to my match.com account, and it said that someone had winked at me.

Then I realize it is a WOMAN?!?!

It clearly states that I am only interested in men.

Then I look closer at the pictures. This is a 51 year old Asian man. I think. His/her first language is not English as he/she cannot even decide which sex he/she is!

In the pictures he/she looks like a man, but never does he/she state that he/she is a man. (I never realized how many times I use pronouns!!)

Honestly, it is NOT that Year of Yes.

I may be desperate, but not desperate enough to switch teams.

Yet.

The Year of Yes: Dates 4.1 & 4.2

So, I went out with The Doctor on Sunday. Twice. Yes, twice.

First we had breakfast. Nothing thrilling there except for the conversation and the coffee. Why did it never occur to me to date a stand up comedian? Oh, perhaps because I was always afraid that I am not funny enough because of previously mentioned dopeheads telling me I am not funny.

I digress.

Then we went to a book sale, where I proceeded to smell the books. What? Why does everyone look at me like that? I can't help it if my nose and I have a close and intimate relationship with books and their scent. Besides, ask anyone, I love how certain things smell.

Yes, The Doctor thought I was crazy. Whatever, he's the psychologist.

Then we went to the Reno Earth Day Celebration. The Doctor had to leave early, so I stayed with friends. But before he left, he invited me to have dinner at his place that night. (Hence, the third date.)

He can cook. And he's intelligent, and damn if he doesn't make me laugh. And we have the same political views, which is a nice change for once.

The Year of Yes: Date #4

I cannot believe that is April already and I have only been on four dates. Not that I am complaining, because after the whole Vic fiasco of Ought Eight, I thought I might never get out there again. But then I met The Doctor. (I've been watching a lot of Doctor Who lately. Sue me.)

The Doctor is super cool. He's older, but I think I might need older. He's super smart and super funny, and (thank GOD!) he's good-looking.

We met at Starbucks for a little coffee date, walked around for a while and enjoyed the incredible spring sunshine and had a really nice conversation. I really enjoyed his company.

Not that I should get my hopes up. But I think we will probably go out again. YIPPIE!

I'm back!