Dating and Boundaries

September 2, 2008

Right after I posted the last blog about thinking Dave was too old for me the first time I saw him, he asked if he could read my blog.  I’m pretty open about the fact that I write this blog.  I’ve shared the link with some of my friends, hoping they find it amusing and interesting (and hopefully not TMI (too much information) at times!).  I wasn’t surprised or offended that he asked.  I had already planned on sharing the info, but didn’t want to volunteer it if he wasn’t interested.

So, I told him how to find it (Google: cindy dating).  As I was telling him this, I was remembering that I said he was “old” and hoped he wouldn’t be mortally offended by the comment.  Now would be a good time to mention…or should I say confess…that I once mentioned my dating blog on a first date.  I was too embarrassed to admit that at the time.  This was the date where the moment he said “I’ll call you,” I knew I would never hear from him again.  I’m not sure if it was the fact that he was horrified that I was writing about my dating experiences or something else.

Anyway, I figured my blog couldn’t possibly scare Dave off since we’ve already shared our histories of intermittent sanity with each other.  We both take antidepressants.  Did you know that certain antidepressants are infamously linked with sexual side effects?  I’ll save that story for another post.

To make a long story short, Dave wasn’t mortally offended by the age thing.  He did tell me that he didn’t think he should read my blog anymore…to respect my privacy.  He doesn’t want me to censor myself, which I would likely do if I knew he would be reading what I said.  I told him I don’t really care, because I don’t.  I asked him if he read any of the other posts and he said that he didn’t.  He admitted to being a narcissist and just wanted to know what I had written about him.  After I thought about it, I realized that I agreed with him.  If he was just going to read my blog to see what I’ve written about him, he would be missing the point anyway.  The blog is about ME and all of my dating and relationship experiences.  He would rather hear about these directly from me.  If he had a blog, I’d read every word of it, but every person is different.


Date #5, Date #6, Date #7, etc…

August 29, 2008

I’ve been stalling on officially updating my dating life…because the guy I went out with on Date #5 turned out to be pretty cool.  My first thought upon meeting him was that he was too old for me.  However, I am serious about not making snap judgments about people and this time it seems to be paying off.  Although my initial reaction evoked the fight-or-flight response, it lasted only a moment.  I almost always have a nice time on dates, so I figured I might as well relax and enjoy the experience.

Dave was immediately warm and charming…and a good conversationalist.  In a way, he is not my type at all in terms of physicality.  He’s a good 4 inches taller than me, which I am not used to.  I’m tall, and although I like to complain about my shorter friends stealing all of the tall men (leaving me with the shorter ones), I am intimidated by men who are taller than me.  But, it kind of turns me on, too.  He also has the physique of a football player.  Once again, this sort of turns me on, but at the same time it has been a turnoff in the past because guys like this are usually meatheads.  Or maybe that’s an unchallenged stereotype I’ve been carrying around in my head.  He’s actually not the first guy I’ve known who has turned out to be a gentle, intelligent, sensitive, empathetic…giant.

Ultimately, the reason I like him is because he is very intelligent and very sensitive.  I was roughhousing with him yesterday and he said I was hurting him.  He didn’t like it.  Some women may find sensitivity in a guy a turnoff, but I find it to be a huge turnon.  I like a guy with a nice balance of masculine and feminine traits.  I have a balance of these traits myself and I need someone to complement me.  I can be socially clueless and awkward and an emotional flake, so I like to date guys with the supposedly ‘feminine’ traits of being socially skilled, empathetic, and understanding.


Why I Don’t Use eHarmony

August 11, 2008

A couple of years ago, I tried out several dating web sites, including Match.com, eHarmony, and GreenSingles.  I used eHarmony for two, maybe three months.  At first, I was totally impressed by the accuracy of their personality profile.  It did a nice job of describing me and ‘summing me up.’

Then, I waited for them to match me up with someone.  I waited.  And waited.  And finally, they match me up with ‘Tony,’ who lives 200 miles away.  After graduating from ‘guided communication’ we finally talked on the phone.  Tony, according to his personality profile, was a subdued and quiet man.  Tony, on the phone, was quite a talker.  He talked…and talked…and talked.  We had nothing in common.  He lived 200 miles away.  I had no interest in ever talking to him again.  His personality profile was not accurate.  Apparently, he imagined himself to be a different person than he was.

Verdict: My actual self was compatible with his ideal self.

The last straw came soon after.  After some time passed, they matched me up with another person.  These matches are few and far between…apparently it takes time to come up with such high quality personality-based matches.  Did I mention eHarmony is kind of expensive?

Anyway, I’m reading through the profile of my long-awaited second match.  He seems fine until I get to the part where he lists his hobbies.  One of his hobbies is hunting.  Did I mention I am a vegetarian?  And that I love animals?  I was so offended…eHarmony matched me up with someone who enjoys killing animals for fun.  I wrote to their customer service department, but never received an adequate response.  I cancelled my membership.

Verdict: eHarmony is for carnivores.


Majestic Flower vs. Oxygen Deprived Weed

August 11, 2008

In my last post, I meant to write about how ‘Hugo‘ sent me a second email, but I got distracted when I found another blog talking about the same guy and his attempts at flattery.

Apparently, Hugo has his account set up so that if you click on his profile, he is notified of who has looked at his profile.  I had only looked out of a perverse sense of curiosity.  A day or two later, he sent this follow-up email:

“Good morning, I hope your day will be as beautiful as you are. I see that you viewed at my profile. Believe me, I am not a fictitious man. I am an expressive man, and I am as real as the day is long. I am really college educated, I really have a great career, I am really 6 foot 3 inches tall, I am really single, and I am really patiently waiting to hear from you to call me. If you do, I assure you, you will have no regrets. I totally understand that most men don’t express themselves as vividly as I do, but every man has a gift.

P.S. I hope to hear from you soon.”

Creepy!  I didn’t realize people could tell when you looked at their profile.  I suspect it’s one of those “extra” features of Match.com…that facilitates stalking behavior!  Apparently, you can sign up to get notified the moment someone reads an email you sent to them.  That seems neurotic to me.


Interesting People on Match.com, Continued

August 8, 2008

My last post was about ‘Hugo.’  This is the guy who referred to me as “a majestic flower in a field of oxygen-deprived weeds.”  I guess this is supposed to be flattering, but I don’t know what it’s supposed to say about the other women on Match.com.  I suspect I am not the only woman he has said that to…

I just did a Google search for that phrase, and sure enough, I immediately found a blog describing this guy and his far-out attempts to attract women.  The other blog was written 3 days ago.  Too funny!


“Interesting” People on Match.com

August 8, 2008

I’ve tried several dating web sites and I’ve settled on Match.com because of the sheer volume of people using it.  It seems to roughly represent a cross-section of people.  This means, if you use Match.com, you get your share of cat calls and lunatics, but for the most part the people are pretty cool.

Having said that, one of the more questionable men who have contacted me on Match.com is…well, I don’t know his name and I will respect his right to privacy by not sharing his username.  Anyway, let’s call him Hugo.  Hugo sends me an email after reading my profile (which, by the way is fairly brief).  Here are exerpts of his first attempt to contact me:

“…[you] stood out like a majestic flower in a field of oxygen-deprived weeds.  Obviously you are clearly a woman of a different pedigree…”

He goes on to describe himself as having been…

“…stomped, crushed, and fermented into a fine wine…all I can do with this fine wine…is give it away…”

Since I approach dating with a healthy (and safe) sense of skepticism, I think to myself, this guy really has gone out of his way to flatter me and make an impression on me.  I can’t say it was a good impression.  Out of pure curiosity, I clicked on his profile to read more about him (this is akin to gawking at car accidents).  His profile was even more over the top talking about the curves of a womans body and romance and that kind of thing.  Is this guy for real?  I think not.  I’m filing him in the lunatic category.


Why I’m Not Desperate for Sex

August 7, 2008

Reflecting back to Bob and the way that a bike ride, dinner, and half a glass of wine added up to unwanted sexual advances, this leads me to two more questions, which relate to each other. 

 

Question #2:  Don’t men know that we can have sex whenever we want? 

 

Right now, I’m sitting at home by myself, unshowered, and I bet you I could be having sex with a man in 30 minutes or less.  In other words, I could have sex with pretty much whoever I want, whenever I want.  Or I can masturbate.  Why should I want to have sex at all, let alone with you?

 

Why would I want to potentially expose myself to pregnancy and STDs (condom’s can break) in exchange for…20 minutes of feeling good, culminating in feeling frustrated (see Question #3)?  What kind of trade-off is that?  So, back to Bob.  Why didn’t I respond to Bob’s sexual advances?  First, because I didn’t want to.  Second, because I’d rather have sex with my vibrator, which is exactly what I did when I got home.  Thirty seconds of pleasure and a great orgasm with no chance of getting pregnant or acquiring an STD.  Fabulous!

 

Question #3:  Do men realize that male and female sexual organs are more alike than different? 

 

Do they not realize that the equivalent of their penis is our clitoris?  How would they like it if we played with their testicles for 10 minutes, managed to gratify ourselves, and rolled over and went to sleep?

 

I heard a term years ago.  It was something like ‘masturbatory sex.’  I didn’t quite get what it meant.  Then one day, it dawned on me.  It’s what I just described.  It’s selfish sex, using someone else’s body as a means of masturbation – without returning the favor!

 

One thing I won’t quantify on this blog is how many times I’ve had sex with men without having an orgasm.  Or how many times I’ve had sex with the same person, over and over, and haven’t had an orgasm.  Or how many times I’ve had one-night stands with men and didn’t have an orgasm.  Would you like to know why I didn’t have an orgasm on this multitude of occasions?  Because too many of men I’ve slept with didn’t bother, not once, to touch my clitoris.  One night, I had sex with this guy who was supposed to be the local Rico Suave.  We had sex three times in one night.  I initiated the sex the second and third time.  Why?  Because I wasn’t satisfied.  Nope, still not satisfied after the third time.  I NEVER had sex with him again.  He was probably perplexed, wondering why I was a sex maniac on one occasion and never slept with him again.  Duh. 


Date #3 (A First Date)

August 7, 2008

A day after Date #2, I went out on Date #3.  Matt and I have emailed each other through match.com a few times.  I noticed an element of flirtation in the email exchange.  I wondered if this meant we would have ‘chemistry.’  The moment I met him, my first thought is that this guy is too nice for me.  He somehow looks too wholesome for me, whatever that means.  He’s definitely attractive, though. 

 

I’ve learned by now not to place an emphasis on immediate attraction.  Attraction is something that can develop over time and end up being way more intense than superficial, immediate attraction. 

 

We had a drink and had good conversation for a couple of hours.  Whatever concerns I had about this being a booty call (remember Date #2?), maybe because we only met for a drink, were unfounded.  If you haven’t noticed by now, I do a bit of ‘detail analysis’ in the process of getting to know someone, looking for red flags and other potential points of concern.  Sometimes that’s healthy and sometimes it’s neurotic.

 

At the end of the date, he said the fateful words, “I’ll call you”.  Or maybe it was the way he said it.  Or maybe I’m just plain psychic.  At that exact moment, I knew without a doubt I would never hear from him again.  Still, I had a grin on my face the whole way home.  I really had a nice time out (can you tell I don’t get out much?) and I was buzzed from the pomegranate margarita.  And, I go into these dates with low expectations.


Date #2 Epilogue/Commentary

August 7, 2008

As I escape this second-date-turned-bad, I find myself imagining how I will deal with him should he ask me out again.  As I drive home, I imagine the polite possibility of offering to be friends, possibly meeting up for occasional bike rides.  Then I think, “Hey stupid-head, do what is right for you and stop putting how the other person feels before how you feel!”  Then I imagine saying something like, “I don’t think we’re compatible or looking for the same things.”  But, then I catch myself saying I don’t think we’re compatible (an attempt to soften the blow?) when really, I know we’re not compatible. 

 

And why am I thinking about how to let him down gently?  Why am I focused on how he feels?  That date was mildly traumatizing and here I am worried about his feelings.  Back to me and how I felt in response to his behavior.  Beyond feeling extremely uncomfortable, I felt offended and disrespected by him.  I felt disrespected because he was invading my physical space.  I was offended that he seemed to think I was ready to jump into bed with him on the second date.  I was offended that he hadn’t bothered to take the time to get to know me very well.  Not that I would know from personal experience (ok, maybe I do), but having sex with someone you barely know is pretty meaningless.  It doesn’t matter who the person is; it’s just sex. 

 

To sum up, I felt uncomfortable, disrespected, and offended by his behavior.  And I went out of my way to avoid behaving in a way that would ‘hurt his feelings’.  I finally gave into my flight response and still kept thinking about how he felt.  That’s stupid!  Why would I put some random guys feelings before my own?


Date #2 (A Second Date), Continued

August 7, 2008

I’m disappointed and a little ashamed to publicly admit I kissed him back.  I could have tolerated some light kissing, but now Bob is putting his tongue in my mouth.  Gross!  I am just not feeling it (i.e., any physical attraction)!  It wasn’t an altogether unpleasant experience – it was kind of neutral, kind of blah.  I maintain at least an ounce of personal respect and integrity and keep pulling away, but these subtle hints are lost on him.  Maybe he thinks I am trying to play coy.  I feel forsaken by the feminist movement.

 

He starts to touch my body with his hand.  Ugh!  This is so uncalled for.  I tell him I have to go.  He immediately backs off.  Relieved he still understands English, I relax for a moment and decide to go ahead and finish my glass of wine.  In an attempt to keep him at bay (i.e., his tongue out of my mouth), I suddenly find myself being Ms. Chatty.  For the first time on either of our dates, I am actually talking freely.  Not about anything important, but I am so uncomfortable (and determined to finish the glass of wine, because I could use it at this point!) I’m finally talking about whatever I feel like talking about to avoid having to make out with him. 

 

I make a point not to drink the rest of my wine like it’s a shot of liquor.  Once again, I’m trying to be reasonably polite.  I’m fighting my inborn ‘fight or flight’ instinct to run as fast as I possibly can and get the f^@% out of there.  I’m partially disgusted with myself for falling into the ‘polite’ crap because this is the kind of thing that women do.  And it takes a toll on your mental health.