The Man Who Loved Himself and Hated Fat Chicks

After about a week or so of emailing Curt (don’t judge, it’s the first name that came to mind), I gave him my number and made plans to talk on phone on Thursday. Wednesday night I received an unexpected phone call saying he only had a minute because he had friends over, but wanted to say hi. Oh, how sweet – right? Hold that thought. So Thursday rolls around and we end up talking on the phone for more than three hours. There was no shortage of laughter, he was a funny guy – unfortunately it seemed to be at the expense of others. Not that I was completely innocent – I definitely encouraged his ranting, but the entire first hour of our conversation surrounded the fact that the girl he had met the night before had a “FUPA” and he doesn’t like fat girls. (If you don’t know what a FUPA is, I’m not telling you. Sorry about it.) 

Remember how he had called me the night before while he had “friends” over. Ding. Ding, Ding. Turns out he didn’t want to be rude – so instead of making up some lame excuse or asking her to leave, he went into his bedroom leaving her in the living room with his roommate and his roommate’s girlfriend. No, No, not rude at all, very gentleman like in fact. Someone get this kid a prize. So he goes on to say that her personality was as bad as her figure and all she talked about was how great she was. I began to wonder if this upset him the most because it cut into his opportunity to talk about how great he was.

We went on to talk about his music career – his CDs, the well-known bands he opened for and the fact that he walked away from it all to pursue a law degree. We also covered other pertinent information including his fondness of oral sex. Wow! I consider myself a pretty open individual and am all for getting to know each other, but I usually limit first conversations to topics like favorite foods, best vacation spots, you know – things you generally do with your clothes on.

When the conversation finally ended, I hung up the phone with mixed feelings. The guy definitely made me laugh A LOT, which was really important, but mostly at the expense of a fat girl. And let’s face it – I was a fat girl. Maybe not at that second but I have spent a majority of my life over weight, not being able to shop at the stores my friends did (5, 7, 9? Oh yea - I can shop there, if they are selling SHOES) and not getting a second glance by guys who would check out my friends. Although I would have probably been considered “average”, at the time (hope so – since that is what my profile claimed!) I did not need to be worried about the person I was with not loving me in the event I packed on a few pounds, got some extra junk in my trunk, etc. Not to mention many of my family members frequent the “Women’s” section much more often than the “Bikini” section. The messed up thing was, he was not a buff or even average guy! And he admitted it and then said how he had always dated smaller girls – he actually talked at length about his ex-girlfriend, which was grand. He summed it up with this, “There is nothing sexy about two fatties rolling around together“. Lovely.

He also explained that his love life was suffering from the whole “law school” gig. With much confidence he said when he was a musician it wasn’t hard getting chicks, they approached him all the time. Modest. Ultimately I was having a hard time imagining a relationship or something serious resulting, based on our conversation. There was one way to find out.

The night we planned to meet I set out for his apartment with plans to go somewhere for a drink. I wasn’t exactly familiar with that part of town and the fact that it was dark didn’t help. So I called him when I couldn’t find where I was supposed to be turning and he was completely rude: “I’ve told you where it was like five times! You passed it AGAIN.” Sooo sorry I don't’t frequent downtown and could care less if the building is 12 floors or 168, doesn’t exactly help me out in the dark, now does it, genius?! I parked my car per bossy bosserson’s instructions and walked towards the building, where he met me. Let’s just be honest – I was less than impressed. Now – as we’ve covered, I don’t consider myself big on looks, I am no Jennifer Aniston. It was more about his face, which was not what I was expecting, after seeing his pictures. He was much shorter than expected and sans the facial hair I found very attractive in his pictures. Not to mention, he was much heavier than his pics portrayed (out of date, maybe?!). While this wouldn’t usually be a big deal since I not only appreciate but prefer a man whose lap I could sit on without causing pain – after the fupa tirade, it was just difficult to get past.

We decided to go to a nearby bar for dinner. Conversation was okay but I wasn’t entirely comfortable and found myself having ZERO to say to this guy, which was not typical. After dinner we went back to his place. I felt okay about it because his roommate was there. In hindsight that maybe should have made me a little apprehensive – I could have been walking myself right into a gang bang.

We planned on watching a movie but his roomie was watching baseball – so after talking with him for a bit we went into his bedroom to listen to his CD, in the works. We ended up laying down, kissing a little and cuddling. The entire time I was wondering how long I should give it before jetting. But the kissing felt nice, it had been a while - I had officially went from lonely to desperate, spending the evening making out with a guy who not only I wasn’t attracted to, but who actually grossed me out a tish. After an hour or so I made my escape, kissed him goodbye and good riddance (he didn’t know that part). I emailed him a couple days later with the first of many emails insisting, “I had a great time but I recently met someone who I want to concentrate on“. That seemed nicer than “I think you’re kind of an ass and couldn’t wait to leave your apartment; you should grow the facial hair back.” The worst part about it was the next day I realized I had lost one of my favorite earrings there. Pisser.

In the midst of this, I was in the early stages of talking to disaster number two.  He replied, “thanks for being honest – blah blah blah.” The end? Not so much – a few weeks later he sent me a message saying “noticed you were on-line in the last 24 hours” (nothing is sacred on these damn dating sites). “What happened with the guy”. Once again, I thought out loud, ”I’m sorry – WHAT?” No. Seriously? I shook my head and wrote him back telling him I had been online to show my co-worker the other guy’s picture, which was the truth. What I didn’t say was “And I’m still keeping my options open – you’re just not one of them”, which was also true. NEXT…

The Man and His Dog - Part II

Clearly this was an intentional move – anyone who has been on Match any length of time (like over an hour) knows people will see you when you look at their profile. I was not about to give in and look at his profile – although I was extremely curious to see if he’d updated. So - a few days later I received a message – which started a string of correspondence. A point of clarification: the J is me. The DB is him “dumb boy”, or “douche bag” – you decide. These are not word for word, but you’ll get the idea. Enjoy:

DB: Hi Jodie – just wondered how you were doing. I’m not sure if I’ll even get a response, but I wanted to say hi.
J: Why would you think I might not respond, because you stood me up and never called me again – or something else?
DB: Yeah i knew that was coming. I deserved it. I wasn’t trying to hurt you on purpose. I felt horrible for the way things went down. To be honest with you i really did enjoy hanging out with you and getting to know you. I think i might have just freaked out along with some other small issues I had come up at the time. Anyway i am glad your doing good.....hope your neck is feeling better after all those shots.

At that point – I was ready to just let it go – I had received some sort of reason, which is really all I wanted, right?! So – I decided better if I didn’t write him back, he’d get the hint, or not – a few days later I get an email:

DB: how was your weekend?

I did not respond. A couple days later:

DB: So are you still that pissed at me that you wont even return my emails?

First of all – if I was, wouldn’t that be understandable? But instead – I wrote this:

J: I’m not pissed, I never was. I was hurt and disappointed. Let me guess – you were dating another girl at the same time, decided you’d rather be with her and didn’t know how to tell me – so you didn’t.
 I guess I’m not sure what you expect from me, you stand me up and don’t talk to me for 3 months and now you expect I’m going to be thrilled to hear from you again. I’m at a loss for words.

DB: "Actually I wasn’t seeing anyone at the time just so you know. I would never do that to anyone. I have only been on here for a month.

I guess with the holidays and some money issues I was so stressed out that I kind of went into introvert mode. I have never been like that before and I kind of didn’t know how to handle it. It’s all good now......

I understand you’re at a loss for words, i don’t blame you. I just wanted to say hi and see how you were doing. I wasn’t sure what kind of response i might get from you. I just thought that maybe I’d hear back from you and that way maybe down the road we could be friends again and see if it could work. If not, I understand. I hope you have a good night."

At that point, I didn’t know what to think – I went from being dead set against it to thinking – what he did was hurtful and irresponsible but not necessarily unforgivable. I mean chances are if he’s being this persistent at getting me to give him another chance, maybe it was out of character. And I kept going back to a couple things my RE said. The first, “Ya know, I don’t hate the idea of you going out with him again – you did hate him a lot less than all of the other guys you dated” (a raving review) and “Some people deserve a second chance.” So – after much deliberation (and advice) I figured maybe it was a one time thing and someday this might be a great story for the grandchildren, but I also knew there was a good chance it would happen again – either way, I knew if I didn’t try – I’d always wonder.

J: Well, I’m writing you back against my better judgment. I mean its kind of a big chance for me to take. What happens next time something happens that stresses you out – will I just get pushed to the side again? But I find myself writing you back anyway, so I guess I’ll go with it. I just don’t understand why you couldn’t have just emailed me back – I gave you a perfect out when I emailed you and said if you weren’t interested to let me know.

DB: Thanks for writing me back even though by the sounds of it you didn’t want to. Look i understand the way it went down was not cool....so i apologize for it. i look back on it and like I said in the e-mail the other night I totally handled it wrong. Take how you want to...but its just not like me to do that. I never meant to hurt ya. I don’t remember ever getting a email from you, i think my match account was cancelled at that time. If you sent it to my yahoo account maybe i missed it....either way I’m sorry. I’m only on here for another week like you....So I’ll leave it up to if you ever feel like maybe talking again. I don’t want to bother you. You’re a great person and i wish you the best.

So – I decided to take the chance. It wasn’t like I was exactly heart broken the first time around, if I had been I probably would have made a different decision. We began texting and emailing back and forth and it stayed like that for a while – I was getting pretty annoyed with it – he wasn’t mentioning getting together or even talking on the phone. I understand he said we’d start as friends, but even friends talk on the phone. So – after I hinted SEVERAL times about doing something – and was ready to give up he mentioned getting together. FINALLY – lets get this thing moving. At that point I was afraid I’d see him and not have any feelings for him. I mean – was he that great of a guy or was he just not as bad as the others? He picked me up and we headed to a Lugnuts game (which we’d also done the first time around – maybe it was a bad omen). It was nice to see him, it was comfortable. After the game he came back to my apartment and we watched TV and talked a little bit – but there seemed to be no physical attempts. If this would’ve have been the real first date – I would’ve understood, but it wasn’t and I think after what had happened I was looking for any sign of interest, reassurance that I made the right decision – but I wasn’t getting it. Then out of no where he stood up and said “Well, I’m going to get going”. It was super bizarre (and annoying) to say the least.

The next date we went to the dog park. THE DOG PARK PEOPLE. My idea of a “pet” is fish. The end. I had to ride in the car with that thing, then had to be in a park surrounded by them. And they would just run in the water whenever they felt like it and then run out and shake their nastiness all over. Gross me out the door. I couldn’t help but look around and think, “could I ever be one of these dog park people, because I’m a real big fan of the people park”. I also remember thinking at one point “I’m at a freakin’ dog park, you better not screw this up again HC, you best be worth it.” Laughable…but I get a head of myself. So, after the dog park we went back to his place to hang out. I end up playing with the dog in the back yard (Paging Jodie Burditt, Jodie Burditt please return your anti pet soul to your body. Thank you).

We had not had the Epilepsy discussion, there had not been a reason, until that night. I had a couple days of testing scheduled for the following week, having tests done at Henry Ford. So, I cautiously brought up the fact that I wouldn’t be around for a couple days and the conversation ensued. He was very interested and asked a lot of questions. Did not seem put off or freaked out at all. We said good night after another date void of all romance or touching. Fantastic. Feeling like you like someone more than they like you is the worst, and it was becoming an all to familiar feeling for me. 

During the previous date he had mentioned going to a movie on Thursday…later in the week he cancelled because he wasn’t feeling well and rescheduled for Sunday. At 5:00 p.m., I was fairly certain I was getting stood up AGAIN (if you are reading my blog for the first time, refer to the first post about "The Man and His Dog) and took to my journal; I will spare you the details…but I was pretty mad. That night I decided if I had not heard  from him by 6:15 I was showering and ordering pizza. By 6:46 I was clean and waiting my dinner delivery. I cannot believe I wasted my Epilepsy saga on this fool. By 7 p.m. I was writing this “I’d say I can’t believe it, but obviously I can, since it isn’t the first time. And yet after all the work (well, emails anyway) he put into having me give him another chance to “be friends and see if it could work” - so maybe he did just think of it as a friendship - but that doesn’t make what he did okay and it certainly doesn’t make it make sense. The sick thing is - I want him to call, right now, with the best possible, most acceptable, make sense, ask no questions, reason. I want it to be OK - But bottom line…it’s not. There is nothing he can say to make this okay - and I wish I wasn’t hoping there was.” SO - over, right. WRONG. I’m an idiot.

I arrived at work the next day to an email. Allegedly he had dropped his phone in the sink while doing dishes, slippery little suckers. (I’m pretty sure he has a dishwasher) He claimed to have called around noon but could not get through. He said he would not have a phone until later in the afternoon and wanted to make sure I knew. AWE - how kind. HEY ASSHOLE, would it have put you out to drive the 1.2 miles to my house and tell me, leave a note, something?! Ugh. So while I was much less upset then I had been driving to work that morning, I was less than thrilled. So, I did what any mature person would do…I didn’t write back. There was nothing to really say, anyway. (Let’s be honest, was I hoping/expecting he would call me after he got his new phone - Duh!) So, the next night I had not heard anything and I decide there is no way I’m going to let two months go by and have him contact me again, saying I never wrote him back. So, I sent him a text asking if he got a new phone. Of course, I immediately hated myself for this because then I started thinking, ‘great, now I’m not going to hear back from him and I will have to email him, because what if he doesn’t have a new phone and doesn’t get my text?' All this excuse making/speculation was getting exhausting.

Turns out he called me almost immediately but I was on a walk and didn’t hear my phone. He left a long rambley message about getting the phone, golfing all night, blah, blah, blah. We played phone tag for a bit; when we finally talked we made small talk, the conversation was winding down when I said “I have to ask you one thing about Sunday…you know what I thought, right?!” “Yea” “Okay, I just wanted to make sure”. I went on to say I didn’t understand why he didn’t try and get a hold of me. I think my exact words were, “You know where I live, and it’s not that far from you.” He fully agreed and said he should have handled it differently but he didn’t remember what time I was going to be back in town…and then more rambling.  Somewhere along the way we decide we would go to a movie on Saturday. (idiot, idiot, idiot)

Saturday he texts me at 5 p.m. and suggests a 6:40 movie - he’d pick me up. Joy! Thanks for the advance notice. Sarcasm? No, I've never heard of it. The movie was fine, expect for the vary obvious fact that he did NOT touch me ounce. I mean, I was even doing the awkward ‘put my hand in a fairly obvious touch position’ cause I’m damn sick of him treating me like his sister. No such luck.

After the movie we head back to my apartment, without saying anything he turns off his car and proceeds to follow me up. You would think that was a good sign…not so much. No touching…I even put my head on his shoulder twice, caring no more if I’m being annoying because something is just NOT right. No response. He startes to get up and go home…he hugs me goodbye and we start kissing - a semi-pathetic kiss, mind you - not as pathetic as the Valentine’s Day-tight lip-have gotten more passion from my Grandmother-guy-but less than impressive.

He leaves and I immediately call my BFF to vent my frustrations. I didn’t hear from him again until Tuesday, saying good luck on my upcoming medical tests, which were scheduled for Thursday and Friday. We continued to text but I could feel it - he was pulling away. Texts were short and few and far between, never really soliciting a response. After a continued lack of interest I drafted the email I had wanted to have for a while. “Obviously you just want to be friends; don’t seem to be interested, correct me if I’m wrong - went from communicating everyday to hardly at all, no plans to see each other.” I hit send and await a reply. I open my email the next day to a “failure to deliver” message. ARE YOU FREAKIN KIDDING ME?  I text him to make sure he had the same personal address, after he confirmed I let him know I would be sending an email there. He never responded; shocker. COWARD. He knew it was coming, there is no excuse. I was tempted to send him a text that said “your silence answers my question - let’s just make sure you don’t come back around in three months cause this is OVER.” But I didn’t, and I never heard from him again. NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEXT.

The One Who Had To Hit The Head

The next guy was an engineer who was definitely decent looking and seemingly normal from his profile, (but then again – don’t they all). He was in his 30’s, lived on his own, met his Aunt and Grandma for lunch (that’s cute, right?!). He did have a cat, but I figured a door could be left open. It happens. Before we even exchanged numbers he asked me out. While I like to get things moving, it made me a little nervous because no phone conversations means I do not have any indication or warning if there is a severe speech impediment like a stutter, lisp, etc. Not saying this would be a deal breaker – just nice to know before a face to face encounter so no one’s face gets laughed in! So we make plans to meet for dinner on a Sunday night. I do my usual, sit in my car, eyes glued to the door waiting for the guy to enter first. Finally, I emerge and we do introductions. Definitely a good looking guy and no speech impediment, we’re off to a good start! We had a wait at the restaurant, so I was a little nervous about how conversation would be standing in the entry way – but it was good. I wasn’t sure what to expect because sometimes his emails came across as very proper, using phrases like “I guess I’ll forgo that activity”. What?! But good news – he talked like a normal human being. Dinner was good, a couple long silences but not exactly uncomfortable. We talked about our jobs, families, etc. At the end of the night we hugged each other and I said it was great meeting him, which almost sent me into a fit of giggles because I’d just seen a movie where because boy told girl at the end of the date “Nice to meet you” it meant he wasn’t interested, it was considered a blow off.

So – overall I had a good time and decide I would be disappointed if I didn’t hear from him again.We did go out again. He wanted to take me to dinner “next Saturday”. Instantly my mind goes to the calendar and registers “holy crap – Saturday is Valentine’s Day”. No pressure there. But I also realized the holiday that is so important on a woman’s calendar probably hadn’t crossed his mind. I was right – the day before we were going out, we were talking on the phone and he admitted he just realized the following day was Valentines day and how busy everywhere would be. Saturday morning was a nightmare – I was okay when I first woke up but then I began feeling like I was having a panic attack. I was hot and sweaty; my heart was beating a million miles an hour. I thought I was going to be sick. The only reason “panic attack” came to mind was because I had experienced one recently. It didn’t make any sense though, the first date went fairly well. Where was this coming from? I was annoyed, terrified and tempted to cancel.

But I didn’t and when he came to pick me up he had three red roses – perfect! He admitted with it being Valentine’s Day and only the second date he really wasn’t sure what to do. I reassured him it was great and we set off for dinner. He was planning on the Texas Roadhouse, but being that it was V day, there was a 5 hour wait. Not so much. So we improvised and went to a bar I knew of since I used to live in the area. It was okay conversation, with the exception of him saying “ghetto” several times and too loud for the crowd we were in. As dinner went on and we continued to talk, I just wasn’t feeling it. Not to mention I still was not feeling well and therefore debating on bailing before the movie. But I’m a trooper and decided to stick it out. I did have a second thought when he started getting up from the table announcing “I gotta hit the head”. I’m sorry – what?! Are you at the bar with your buddies? What happened to Mr. “I guess I’ll forgo that activity”? I’ll take him back, please.  

Anyhoo – he hit the head and then we hit the road. At the movie  I relaxed a little, but not entirely. After he dropped me off at my apartment, still not sure what to make of the day, I decided to lean in for a kiss – not sure if it would land on the cheek, mouth or other – well, he turned his head and I got a very unfeeling, tight lipped kiss. Seriously people, I have felt more passion from my 90 year old grandmother. Aaaaand another one bites the dust. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t just the pathetic kiss – but the date as a whole – I just wasn’t feeling it. The next day I received a message from him that he was going to call me that night. Holy Hell – the minute I got in my car for the drive home from work I called my RE, “OK, we need a break-up line – help!” We settled on “Had a great time, but I don’t see this developing into anything other than a friendship – good luck.” Read: “don’t use the word ghetto in public and use the word “restroom” instead of “head”. I received a nice message back telling me although there was not a connection (mutual feeling?!) I had many qualities he was looking for. 

I found out a week or so later that there was a flu bug going around with many of the symptoms I experienced the day of our second date – sweaty, anxious, sick to your stomach. Hmmm, oh well. All kidding aside, he was a nice guy, just not for me. Strike 3 for match.com. Well, it wasn’t long after, that Strike 2 resurfaced. It had been about three months since the stand-up and random text from The Man and His Dog that I rejoined Match. And soon after, while looking through my “Who’s Viewed Me” – I noticed his profile. My reaction: “You have got to be f’ing kidding me” – yup, right out loud to no one but myself and my computer. Turns out, he was not f’ing kidding.

Waiting On The Winks

Day 1
Huh. Must not be too many people on today, since I have yet to receive a single freakin’ wink or message. By clicking on the “Who’s Viewed Me” button, it is apparent several people have viewed my carefully crafted profile, so what the hell. I decided to dig a little deeper and click on their profiles to see what’s so great about them that they didn’t find me worthy of their advances. First one is cute, maybe even hot. Whatever, I don’t want a hot guy anyway. Hot=cocky=not for me. Guy number two is not even cute so guess what- I am glad he didn’t contact me. After that I lost interest and decided I really didn’t care why they hadn’t contacted me, they all sucked. Plus – maybe they were just taking their time crafting intelligent and interesting emails to impress me; my profile was impressive and could easily be intimidating for someone with less writing/grammar skills. That had to be it, I just needed to give them a little more time. So – with no intention of sending winks or initiating emails, I set off to view my matches. (I certainly wasn’t making the first move – I was lonely, not desperate.)

Waiting
Well, my profile had been published for 48 hours, with my pictures visible for at least 36 of them. And according to my “Who’s Viewed Me”, my profile was getting some clicks, but no one had contacted me. Pictures too posed? My sister boldly admitted my new haircut was “not her favorite”, apparently it isn’t too popular with my fellow online daters either. But there are other pictures up with different hairstyles – of course my niece is in one of them, but I shook that thought – no time for kid haters. Maybe people are taking my “Things I Could Live Without” category which includes gems like “room temperature milk, circus peanuts, and NASCAR” a little too seriously. I let out an exasperated sigh and thought out loud, “Holy crap it’s a joke, get a sense of humor people. Yea for Tony Stewart (he’s a NASCAR guy, right?) going in a circle, as you gulp your warm milk”. Goodness. Guess there are two things I don’t have time for, kid haters and boring. No sense of humor having douches.

The First Wink
Well, it had been a couple hours, so I headed over to the computer to give the mouse a little nudge. I don’t want to keep my swarms of gentleman callers waiting, after all. Sweet dog, an email alert announcing I had received a wink. My first wink! How exciting. Crap sticks – no picture, that’s not a good sign. I don’t like to think looks mean a whole lot to me, if you ask my sister (you know, the haircut hater) she would insist I date very average looking guys. So when someone doesn’t have a picture I automatically think the worst (unless of course it is because he is so gorgeous that he wants me to not be distracted so I am free to fall in love with him for his personality, not his dark brown silky hair, dark green eyes, dimple and, er, back to reality) – while I’m not a dog or anything I was pretty sure I would not be getting winked at if he was indeed the aforementioned case of sexy hot man incognito as average guy.

Anyway – there is no picture and I come to the conclusion it wasn’t likely that it was because all of his headshots are on loan to Brad Pitt’s agent. So, what’s the problem? Cross eyed? Glass eye?? Three eyes??? My imagination goes wild. So – I write him back and ask if he has a picture. His response: “Yes, but it is not very good”. Again I think out loud (which is very different than “talking to myself” because people who do that are weird and make me uncomfortable) “I’m sorry – what?!”, I blurted. I just could not comprehend having only ONE picture of yourself to distribute to the entire world of on-line dating in hopes of finding a wife, and it’s NOT GOOD. He was probably just being too critical of himself. Yup, that must be it…and then I opened the attachment. Goo – not that good. Grainy quality, taken of himself by himself in a basement?! (His mom’s, quite possibly.) NEXT.

Pictures were a particular area of concern. I’m not necessarily talking about ugly, decent, hot, etc. I just expected that people would have several photos, and not all self portraits with their arm stretched out as far as possible, looking up or with their cell phone in the bathroom mirror (oh yea – you’d be surprised). Really, they don’t have one freakin’ friend, family member, co-worker to snap a photo of them? Okay, so they are not particularly proud of their status as an “online dater”. First, get over it. Second, you don’t have one single opportunity when you’re with your friends/family that it would be relatively normal to take a picture. A night out with the boys, a cousins birthday party (hell, even a second-cousin if that’s what it takes). If that’s not an option (which worried me in itself), get someone to take a picture of you – tell them your practicing for your badge picture at work, a new drivers license picture – I don’t really give a rats ass what they say – just get a few pictures. And if you are desperate enough to take them of yourself – put down the cell phone, step away from the mirror (especially the bathroom one) and get a flippin’ camera. Why don’t you own a camera anyway? Its time. At the very least get a disposable, yup they still make ‘em – take your happy ass over to Walmart and buy one. And hell, while you are there ask the greeter to take a picture of you – what’s it going to hurt. I mean really – you can’t honestly care what Velma, screaming “Welcome to Walmart” a few notches louder than necessary really thinks of you. Better yet – get a real camera, one with a timer – set it up at the least obvious “I’m taking this picture of myself” spot you can find and click away. Honestly. Sorry, I feel passionately about this. Well – so much for the excitement of my first wink. 

And so would begin the first of countless “I’m not interested” Why? “I don’t think we are a good match, good luck in your search” clicks.

The Man And His Dog (Part I)

The Man and His Dog
My second disaster involved the guy I showed my co-worker the pictures of the day the last one got all up in my business about being online. After emailing and then talking we decided to meet for dinner. After what a disaster the musician lawyer was, I was still somehow optimistic. We had a nice dinner, good conversation and a hug goodnight – as I reflected on the night I decided although he didn’t go to any great lengths to get himself all dolled up, that was okay. He was a seemingly normal, enjoyable, down to earth guy. For the next few weeks we communicated on a regular basis – mainly email and text, which was not my ideal method of communication, but whatever – and we saw each other about once a week. The first couple dates we went out to dinner and a couple times I made dinner at my place. On the fourth or fifth date we went to dinner and then back to his house.

It should probably be mentioned that my idea of a “pet” is a fish. They don’t poop everywhere, shed, bark and most importantly they don’t hump you. I am NOT an “animal” lover. I’m not necessarily a hater either, you won’t find me out torturing a cat (mostly because that would mean I would have to get close enough to touch it, which would immediately send me into a fit of sneezes) – but I am pretty sure my life would be fulfilled if I never own a furry friend. So we went to his house and I spent the entire evening being mounted by his puke-breath dog. Sick. Cats were definitely my least favorite as they make me sneeze and my eyes swell shut, just not my best look. But a close second on my “pets never to own” list, are dogs. Especially the big, drooly, need constant attention dogs. Well, lucky me, he had one. The dog constantly jumped on me while I minded my own business on the couch, oblivious to the very obvious fact that he was NOT a lap dog. Then he kept bringing me his stupid toy to play tug of war. I was near tears several times – no lie. I was sure things couldn’t get worse. I was wrong.

I was so busy trying to ignore his non-lap, lap dog I didn’t even realize it until it was too late. The fur ball had made his grand entrance and pranced right onto my lap. I leaned back as far as possible and calmly said, “ I’m allergic” to which my doting date replied “just push him off” – duh, push him off, WHY DIDN‘T I THINK OF THAT. Oh wait, that would involve me touching the fur ball – not great for the allergies, but whatever. I left that evening fighting back tears, craving a shower and feeling a little discouraged, but I also decided there was hope. I mean in comparison, the night was a success! No tirades about fat chicks or feelings of disgust when we kissed, things were looking up. I would simply plan things away from his house. As often as humanly possible.

The Beginning of the End
We had not seen each other in a week or so and I was going to be leaving town for Thanksgiving. He suggested stopping over to see me for a while before I left. It went fine, normal – we watched TV, kissed, cuddled. Then he left and that was the last time I saw him (sort-of, that will come later). I guess I should’ve known something was changing because he, who was usually the phone call/text/email initiator, wasn’t initiating anything.
I called him once over Thanksgiving weekend and left a message. He text me the next day saying sorry he missed my call and told me about his car dying. Really? Your sorry you missed my call? You’re not sorry. People who are sorry don’t text that they are sorry, they try and call back. I’m just sayin’.
The next week, after I was back in town, I emailed him about getting together and he called me that night to figure would what night would work. (The man can use the phone!) We decided to get together on Thursday. When Thursday rolled around I emailed him to see what he wanted to do (which was standard – we always had our plans made by the time we got out of work). He replied totally indicating we were still getting together, so around 10 a.m. I emailed him a couple ideas that wouldn’t cost much (after he declared we should do something cheap since he was “broke this week”) In the email I sent suggestions I also made a crack about where he was spending his money. I wasn’t entirely serious – and yet, it was the second time he’d made a comment like that, so I was hoping he’d pick up that it was a little annoying. I mean really – if you’re broke, fine – but then get creative – suggest a picnic lunch and a walk. Whatever. So – after I sent the email with suggestions, that was it. He didn’t reply.

I left work at 5 p.m. having not heard back from him – which was not normal. Needless to say, I was totally annoyed. Finally around 6 p.m. I called and (shock of all shocks) got his voicemail. I left a message saying “I’m assuming we are not getting together, but wanted to make sure”. Nothing. Finally around 10 p.m. I was getting a little worried. I am not a complete idiot – I knew there was a 5% (or less) chance that something bad happened (and let me tell you – it would’ve had to have been REALLY bad for me to find it excusable), but, you never know. So – I sent a text saying “I can take a hint – please let me know that you’re OK.” Nothing.
So – the entire way to work the next morning I am furious – talking to my sister thinking of all possible reasons he didn’t call (diagnosis of fatal disease he can’t bring himself to tell me about, wandering around somewhere with amnesia not knowing his own name, etc.) But when I got to work I had an email with the subject “I’m Sorry”. Oh – this better be freakin’ good or you’re going to be sorry – was my first thought. Not so much. He said how he didn’t feel well and left work early (funny he didn’t mention that into the email to me). He took some meds when he got home and thought he’d sleep for a couple hours, but didn’t wake up until 10 p.m. He knows he hurt my feelings and he’s sorry. I really wasn’t sure what to think of this or how to reply. Possible – yes. Probable – not so much. After consulting my relationship experts (and by relationship experts I mean sister and bff), I emailed him back: “I’m not really sure how I feel about last night – if you’re not interested in pursuing a relationship with me, please let me know. I would’ve liked to hear from you because I was worried”. Nothing. I figured that was my answer – time to start moving on. 

That night I’m at home watching TV and I get a text, “my car died again, waiting for a ride – thought I’d say hi” and then something like "between the car problems and being sick, I've been pretty stressed out lately". I’m sorry – what?! I was beside myself – sat on my couch and laughed like a crazy woman having no idea how to respond or even if I should respond. What was this guy’s deal? After consulting my REs I responded “Yea – car problems can be stressful – give me a call in the next couple days, when you have a chance.” At that point I wasn’t feeling the least bit confident and really wanted a chance to ask what the heck was going on. I never heard from him again. Well, technically I did – but it wasn’t until months later and there were some in-betweeners, so I’ll get into Part II later. So, I looked at the positive – I was off the hook from spending time with that four-legged, drooling, shedding, bed breath having, non-lap dog. NEXT.

Note To Self (and all of you): Passionate = Unstable (Part II)

When we weren’t together the text messages would come in mass, and to be completely honest I kind of loved them. If anyone else told me they were getting those I would’ve gagged my brains out – and to be honest, I would once in a while over his, but they still made me smile. I woke up every morning to a song lyric text message and it wasn’t getting old. Every night he would call or tell me to call before I went to bed and sing me to sleep, that on the other hand, was getting old. It should’ve been a big fat red flag looking back, I mean – who does that?! Not any self-respecting straight man one might think!

 So date number three is scheduled, he is going to come to Lansing for dinner and a movie. He picks me up and we head to the movie theater, where I find him to be a bit obnoxious. First he starts bitching about something having to do with the Slurpee he is substituting for a pop and then proceeds to shake it and bang it and whatever else during the movie (during the quietest parts, it seemed). I wanted to cry. Speaking of crying, during a couple parts in the movie I seriously thought he might cry and I thought to myself “self – if he starts crying, this is done. I’ll stick out the movie, since it is already paid for and I really want to see it, but then BUH BYE”. Well happy to say we made it through tearless. He was definitely a toucher, I don’t think there were more than 2 seconds during the movie (well, maybe when he was banging his Slurpee like a sledge hammer on the seat in front of him) that he wasn’t rubbing my hand, caressing my arm, etc. I do enjoy that type of stuff so it was nice but I also acknowledged that a couple months in, this might get pretty annoying. 

After the movie we went back to my apartment and he broke out his guitar. The first thing he wanted me to hear was the song he wrote for “his daughter”; his daughter who had lived a few short minutes after birth, 11 years ago. Again, I know I sound cruel – I obviously have NO clue what it is like to lose a child, but the fact that I had been on three dates with this guy and have heard about her – with intense, unmistakable sadness in his voice, on every date - was a little concerning. Anyway, he sang a couple other songs and then we started kissing. Oh settle down, it was all PG. Well, maybe PG-13. We talked a lot and he held me, during the course of conversation I told him I don’t usually date more than one person at a time, just a preference. What I did NOT say (you’ll see why I’m putting in this disclaimer, a little later) was that I was his girlfriend or that we were exclusive. So after some making out and him offering to stay the night and whatever, I walked him to the door, kissed him goodnight and told him to text me when he got home. Shortly after he left I went to bed.

I woke up when I heard the ding of my text message. I opened my eyes in horror to this, "I'm home my sexy gf lol". I thought maybe I could ignore it. Then the next day I received this, “I did send you a friend request on fb - boy do i change my status and announce to FB who I'm in a relationship with?! LoL.” I started pacing around work saying “Gf?! GF?! NO GF!” I’m lucky they didn’t call Security, or a therapist. So, I replied: “Don't take this the wrong way but I think we need to talk about the whole "gf/bf/relationship" status thing.”

WOAH, wrong thing to say. I get this in return:  

“ As far as the other stuff goes just never mind apparently ur taking something wrong or whatever I didn’t think goofing around and being playful with words and stuff was a bad thing im not going to say another thing. Plus im not going to share anything that crosses my mind or anything anymore cause now I feel like a complete ass. So im going to go. You have a nice remainder of the day and sweet dreams tonight. Take care goodbye.”

I didn’t know what to think, so I replied, “Are you serious with all that?” And then when he didn’t respond I followed up with, “So are we done then?” Eventually I received an email:

“Well, I guess I was wrong to think that when you said this was exclusive or couldn't see multiple people and then after last night said no regrets and you would do it all over again. Yet your still on match. So that tells me basically all I need to know and I just want to say thank you for making me feel 2 foot tall. So good luck and I guess I won't contact you anymore which absolutely kills me more than you know. Nice guy gets shit on again. Good-bye”

Oh hell. So, I respond: 
“Obviously you misunderstood what I said last night. While I did say that I don't like to date more than one person at a time because it can be confusing I did not say I considered us exclusive or that we could not date other people, although I had no intention of dating anyone else. As far as the Match membership goes, as you well know - I have not had internet service until last night, I can access it on my work computer and I am limited to what I can do on my phone, so today is really my first chance to be doing anything on my computer - and your message came before I had the chance to do anything with my profile. Just wanted to clear that up. Take Care. p.s. any thoughts on how to get me back my router and get your sunglasses?”

While everything I said was true, even if I had access to the internet, my profile wouldn’t be down, you overemotional freak show. Anyhoo…About this time I went on Match and found he had updated his profile headline to say something about “Players Need Not Apply” HAHA, I was a player. Saweeeet. I then received this (and no, I did not add the graphics for effect...they were included in the original email. YIKES!) Also, I left it in its original form...as much as it pains me NOT to correct the misspellings/grammar - and believe me, it does.:

"Look, I'm very very sorry for what happened today. Its just you have to understand its like you were taking things I was having fun with and making them serious to the point where you thought we needed to have a talk about it all. You and I had a coversation laying in your bed about dating only one person at a time specially when there is intimacy going on and I take that very serious when it come to that. I don't just sleep around and I know you don't either. But its like I'm not suppose to tell you if I feel a connection that's closer than what I may have never felt with someone else, or a silly dream or something to that effect. I would've thought/hoped that with what we've both survived in our life time that you of all people would understand someone saying what's on their mind because we understand how quickly life can be gone. Its not like I said I Love You or anything. That's not even on my mind. But liking you, enjoying spending time with you, kissing you, holding you, playing guitar for you, singing for you are all things that I enjoy doing for you. I love the way I know it makes you heart smile and everything. So I guess what I'm getting at here is I'm very very sory for letting my lack of sleep and stress get to me. I don't want to you lose you/us and the friendship and closeness we've started to build here. So I'm going to leave the ball in your court. If I don't hear from you then I understand 110% and I will stay out of your life for good. Always,"

                   

 At this point, I’m pretty much at a loss. I do not respond. I then receive these:

"Please bear with me. I'm sending 7 pages of text. Right now I'm not doing so good. I've been at the hospital all night with my dad - he has stomach and liver Cancer! All I've done is cry most the night cause I know he's hurting. I have NO ONE to turn to and I'm very alone and scared. If I lose him, I will have no one.

I'm laying here with body pillow a mess and very alone and sad. Makes me miss my gpa and daughter so much and u and if we can't work this out.

I don't expect a response but I want to start off by apologizing from the bottom of my heart for my stupidness, better lack of judgment and maturity.

I felt hurt and stupid because things were taken how they shouldn't have been by both us us. In no way did I take what we have/had and ever make it out to be Something its not yet, nor did I have any deep feelings for this yet. I care about you. I respect you as a woman, a friend and someone who is learning or at one point was to trust me with having a part of her heart and I'm sorry I hurt u.

I don't make excuses at 33. I learn from those and never make the mistake a second time. I guess you can say I got scared cause u seemed to thinking I was taking us to a level that even my heart knows doesn't exist yet, but over time most

Likely that would exist but I'm a realist, ya I may be a hopeless romantic, but that doesn't mean I don't live in reality!!

I don't want to lose us/u and will do anything and everything to make up for my dumbness, retarded/hurtful words. That's not me. You know the real me, singing, laughing, romantic, caring, sincere and most of all someone who will fight to keep you in my life.

Again I'm very sorry for my actions!! I miss you and I hate not singing to you. I still want to see you tomorrow and stay with me. I'll leave the ball in your court! xoxoxoxox"

Where do I even start?! Stomach and Liver cancer?! And your dad?! You have over shared since the moment we met, and you never managed to mention the existence of your dad (although I have heard about his mom, two sisters, an ex-girlfriend and an ex-wife (oh, and let’s not forget the ex-husband of the ex-wife who he caught f#*@ing.)? Not likely.

But, even more concerning…A BODY PILLOW?! Were you painting your nails while you were at it!

So, I immediately reach out to my support group (read: Dawn, Mo and Nichole) to help draft a response. Collectively we came up with:

Dear, You are a nut job. Thanks for not waiting too long to show me that. You can drop my router off at the park and ride - my brother-in-law will be there to get it; he'll be packing heat. I broke your sun glasses. It's not me, it's you.

It also may have benefited your cause to remove the headline referring to me as a "Player" BEFORE trying to win me back. Who am I kidding, it wouldn't have helped your cause at all - probably should've never put it up there in the first place. Ass hole.

Love, Jodie  

p.s. do you bat for the other team?

p.p.s. I know you're a gay.

Award winning, I know. But, I sent this:

“I received your email and your text messages. I am sorry to hear about your dad. This is not going to work out - I wish you the best in your future, but please don't contact me anymore.”

I feared for my life a bit that weekend. Actually, I just feared I would wake up to someone playing the guitar and serenading me, outside of my apartment. So, I packed my bags and left for Saginaw.

The End.

Note To Self (and all of you) Passionate = Unstable (Part I)

It had been a while since I was excited to go on a date. But this one was different, it was the first time I had really felt a connection with someone before meeting them (or even talking to them on the phone) – I was excited. We could joke around – both were sarcastic but seemed to know when the other was kidding. The only phone conversation we had was on his way to the restaurant. He had left me a message the day before and I tried to call him back to no avail. I had originally described his voice as nasally – based only on his voicemail (hey – I’m pretty particular about voices), turns out I would soon use another word to describe it.

We met at the restaurant. I was parked out front in a space that would most likely allow me to watch him pull in and walk into the restaurant. My first thought: OH SHIT – when I saw him pull in and get out of his car with a license plate that contained the word “PHAT”. WHAT?! Crap. I could leave - he didn't see me. Eh, it’s a free meal. So – we get seated, order drinks and begin talking. My first impression: “Is this guy gay?” Not that there is anything wrong with that, well except then he should probably not be on a date with me. Why did I think that, you ask. Where to begin?! First, his voice – you know, the one I originally deemed “nasally”, turns out “feminine” might be a better word, especially when he got mad or excited. The Mango Tango Twist or whatever the hell his tutti-fruity drink was called, was also a concern. Then there was the 

“over-share” portion of the date (and by “portion” – I mean the entire date).

It may have originally been me who made an “ex” comment – my bad. Apparently he took my lone ex comment to mean it was OK for him to divulge his entire romantic history, leaving no detail out. First I learned about his recent ex, who he met on Match – was engaged to her within six months until she recanted and said she couldn't marry him, but still wanted to “date”. According to him, it was her sisters’ faults. They convinced her to break it off because “he was too good to be true – or something”. Time would tell me there may have been other reasons for their feelings. I also learned that his sister was still living with his ex. Nice, how very um…Jerry Springerish. He didn't take long to get to the good stuff about his divorce. (As you may have picked up on – I did not do a lot of talking that night). I learned they dated for three years and were married for six months when she said she wanted a divorce. Then we got to the especially personal and too uncomfortable to talk about/hear about on the first date stuff, like him coming home one day, after they were separated and no longer living in the same house, to find her “f*#king” her ex-husband (completely appropriate language for a first date, or not). But let’s not stop there – the oversharing continued when he went on to talk about the time he tried to go to the house and the locks were changed and she had filed for a restraining order because she was afraid he would empty out the house (yea, I’m sure that was the reason). And that, my friends – was just the dinner portion of the first date.

After dinner we decided to walk around East Lansing and get ice cream – which provided an opportunity for a whole other too much information conversation. But, this one I semi-encouraged (after he began to talk about it and then stopped) and ended up participating in. So he began talking about various health problems, from breaking his back to the surgery and subsequent staph infect to his heart condition, aneurysm, and pace maker. Later I found out he also had ADD (of course, why wouldn't he?!)Look there’s a chicken!

 I talked a little bit about my Epilepsy which apparently gave him the go ahead to tell me everything about his health including the day he was on the way to the hospital and he sneezed, causing his aneurysm to burst. I’m really not trying to be insensitive but by that point in the night I knew more about this fool’s personal life than I could handle. I learned that once in the hospital one of the doctor’s refused to give him any more drugs because he thought he was addicted. So – the “way too personal for a first date (or third or fifth even)” chatter went on.

The ride to my car was enjoyable, with him singing (the guy had a great voice, I’ll give him that) and me singing and just being silly. We talked for a while and I finally kissed him goodnight. As I drove away I tried to soak in everything from the date, which was completely impossible – but I also decided that I did have a good time and it was worth a second date.

For our second date I drove to the Flint area, where he lived. We were supposed to go to his Studio, but ended up just talking at his apartment. It was a good night; we talked a lot, kissed and cuddled. As he was showing me something on his computer I said I was getting tired and should probably get on the road…but he had something he had to tell me/show me first. Oh shit, here we go. So he starts tearing up as he begins this loooooong story about how when he got married he had to turn in paperwork because he was on disability (I did tell you he was on disability, right?!) so he would be covered by his wife’s insurance. But something happened with the paperwork (says he) - he did submit it but they didn't get it and on and on and on. As he starts to cry all I want to do is shout “stop talking – now. It’s no big deal. I’m tired. I want to go home.” But I held it together and watched as he pulled up the Felony page on the website to show me what I would find if I ever tried to look him up. So he continues with the sniffles and says sometimes girls won’t accept it and he had to tell me. I wanted to say “of course you had to tell me, what don’t you tell me? Next up – your poop schedule”.  So I tell him – if he says it was an honest mistake and he actually did turn it in or whatever the claim was - I believed him. Even if I hadn't  I would've said it to get the hell out of dodge (and I was 65% sure I did). So after what seemed like forever, I made my escape.

To be continued...