Didn't even have to use my AK...

TCK's first bout of the season- an away bout in Mandeville, LA, was a wonderful success.  We won, but I'm mostly happy about the way that we actually worked together as a cohesive team in regards to strategy and smart game play.  We made some progress in this direction towards the last part of last season, but two months of really focusing on these details in addition to all the other things at practice really did pay off. 

There is always more work to do, though, and I'm excited to see what comes next.

Cards Against Humanity will be going with me to every single bout for the rest of my life.

It was, indeed, a good day.

--

I'm somewhere at the end of a month of being a really-truly nonsmoker. I've gotten to that shitty point where I don't like how I smell when I leave a bar.  The upside is that it's also the point where the flowers in my office make the place smell amazing, so there's always a bright side.

Gluten free-vegetarian is not nearly as dramatic or difficult as I expected.  I don't wanna try vegan- I love my eggs and cheese- but I'm feeling amazing.  I miss fish, though.  Fish may be coming back at the end of Lent.  My GF trial is technically over on my birthday later this month, but I think I may keep it.  On Feb 1 my Glomular Filtration Rate (indication of renal function) had improved by 2%.  That could be because of the GF, or because of any number of variables, but I don't miss wheat and I've figured out that by packing a bag like a toddler's mother would do, the inconvenience factor is pretty low.

--

Don't trouble trouble, right?  I've identified that my presence on OKCupid was just adding to my stress level.  I don't want to be a bitch, but the volume of illiterate and/or married men contacting me were starting to not only piss me off but also shade my self perception.  I've always felt that dating profiles that present with a laundry list of "Do not contact me IF:" items came off as horribly negative, but I was starting to see the appeal.  So... I've killed that shit and set my account to disabled. Maybe for a week, maybe forever. Who knows?  I feel better, and I'm not experiencing anxiety when I see "DoucheBag8478 sent you a message!" in my email or on my phone.

Confession: I read The Rules.

I read "The Rules," once.

This would be back during the last time that I was single, and if my memory serves rightly, my second-first date with my most recent ex was right around the corner (already planned, hadn't happened yet).  I was talking about this with a lady friend who was also single, and she asked with ferocious concern if I'd read The Rules because apparently the parameters of the date- which involved out of town travel and the date having acquired a hotel room in town due to his living in another state- set off great big trumpets of warning according to The Rules.  At that point I had heard of, but not paid attention to them, and the conversation concluded with her loaning me her Kindle copy so that I could read them that very night before I managed to completely destroy my virtue and make some huge misstep that would eventually lead to my ending my days as a sad dowager cat lady.

Can't have that, now, can we?  I read the damn book and thought it was damn fine Sorority Girl Satire, except it wasn't.  Advice straight out of Stepford (or Mayberry, maybe) that included a Rule about not discussing The Rules with your therapist, I left the book mighty sad that men get "The first rule of Fight Club is you don't talk about Fight Club" and women get "Always End the Date First."  I also completely ignored the book and things went just fine.

Unlike The Rules, these rules actually make sense.

My friend Cliff posted this article to Facebook earlier this week, and I finally think I GET why The Rules and other such "rules for girls" infuriate me so much.  I won't paraphrase the whole thing - go read the damn article, it's worth it.  I will say that the lightbulb moment for me in the article came with this paragraph:

"When we send the message that resistance is a form of flirtation—a strategic move in the game of love—we romanticize the imposition of one human being’s will on another. The building block of violence. By looking at love and sex as a game, a chase, a fight, we give violence our social permission, cultivate a rape culture, and throw consent out with the bathwater. If, as Rhiannon says “I don’t know means No. I’m drunk means No. Maybe means No. I don’t seem into it means No,” then that should apply to every aspect of the dating experience. Hard To Get and No Means No don’t—can’t—exist together. One lives in a world of conquest and the other of communication. And if you say No when you mean Yes or infer Yes from another person’s No, I’d say you’re not really communicating." - Why I Never Play Hard to Get by Rachael Kay Albers

Admittedly, the "do you like pina coladas?" game is hard.  Finding people that I click with in a way that makes me want to spend quality time with them, doubly so- though some may doubt my formula, I'm actually really picky about the characteristics I require in anybody hoping to hold my attention for more than 12 minutes- friend or lover, really.  So if I happen to encounter somebody I want to date- I'm going to encourage that in a way that I hope conveys genuine interest. It may be awkward, but that's just part of my charm, not part of a "maybe if I'm not busy doing something more interesting" game.  And the awesome part of that? If I'm not interested, I know I'm not sending the same exact signals I send to the ones I DO like... but feel compelled to lead on.  

It'd just be nice if the rest of the broads would quit scrambling the signals.

(every single bit of self control I had went into NOT posting a YouTube video of Antoine Dodson as the conclusion to this post.)

"I'm lying in the gutter eating tootsie rolls..."

Sometimes, you're just having a conversation. A conversation about dinner, in this case.

And then the conversation takes a sharp turn to the left...

And you think to yourself "Is this guy for real? Is this a poor attempt at sexting?  PINK TUNA TACOS WITH SOUR CREAM? Worst euphemism ever.  You're going to get blocked, son. Not for being crass, but for doing it so poorly."

And then you think to yourself "Wow, I clearly need to get my mind out of the gutter and maybe go have some damn fish tacos."



Title credit: "Hurricane Party" by Paul Sanchez

It's kind of like a roller coaster, but without the lap bar.

So- I had an a really great vacation. A friend hosted me in San Diego for 2 days of beach walking, Mexican food, seals that didn't seem interested in going clubbing at all, and lots of downtime.  Downtime seems much easier to accomplish when the company is good and the air smells like the ocean, I'm telling you.  Usually I epically fail at relaxing and it starts to feel like work but that wasn't the case.  California is gorgeous and I totally get the appeal of the west coast now.  The trip to and fro, despite being long, was easy.  Sabine's great suggestion of Tylenol PM and a stiff drink before boarding to come home was a great one (file under: Sabine is Still Not a Role Model).

Annnnd then I came home and reality kind of jumped up and said "HI!!!!!"  On Easter, Max was killed in a motorcycle accident.  Now, Max is not one of my close friends. I've known him for 15+ years, and he's always been around, but we never got cozy.  That being said, he was really close with a lot of the people I do consider close enough to want to be able to tend to their needs and - big surprise - situations I have no control over don't exactly set well with me.  I'm doing what I can do to help make things easier for those that I can but it's still rough to see my people hurting and not being able to fix them. So instead, I'll make up the beds and get out the skillets and do some cooking and fawning.  Sabine and I are going to hang blinds, too... because nothing distracts people like wrenching the power tools away from Sabine and I and hanging up the blinds for us.

Basically, I'm thinking that when you add together a really good weekend and a really harsh Monday, you get something that feels a bit like being hit by a truck with some pleasant tones.  And this is why I don't write Hallmark cards...

--

Puppies napping.

I'm going to babble now.

Do you ever notice how things have a tendency to come up out of nowhere and then suddenly repeat themselves in different parts of your life?  It doesn't have to be a deep something. In the past two weeks, I've had at least 6 unconnected people mention in conversation how much they love Count Chocula.  I've also had a book and a subject come up repeatedly in the past little bit.  The book is Buddha's Brain: The Practical Neuroscience of Happiness, Love, and Wisdom.  When it came up for the 4th time in as many days this morning I went ahead and Kindle'd it - it may not be coming up for a reason but at the very least, I trust the taste of those people who are reading it and seemingly getting something out of it.  That's easy.

The subject? Not as easy.  For some reason the theme of full disclosure and internet privacy and personal openness keep coming up, and they're tangling themselves in such a way that they can't be isolated separately, at least not in my little brain.  I've tried to sit here and write out my thoughts but all I really get is a convoluted tangle so apparently, it isn't really ready to be written about... we'll just call this a bookmark and maybe I'll get back to it later.  Or not. I seem to be expert at saying "I should write about that!" and then promptly not doing it.  Or even belatedly not doing it... anyhow.  We'll see. It gets thinks, though. Lots of thinks.

--

I'm officially counting down now, by the way. I'm on an airplane in 48 hours.  Squee!

Two posts in one day isn't always a good thing.

I am not listening to Tom Petty anymore.  Now I'm listening to Body Count and it really isn't quite angry enough.  Surprisingly, I'm still in a really good mood I'm just all indignant at the moment... and I'm venting so I can go back to my happy place.

So here's the thing.

I've met some REALLY nice people from the Internet.  A couple of them I consider to be good friends now, all because of sites such as OKCupid or Match and the like.  Granted, I've also met some folks who I think probably need a lesson in honesty in advertising but it what happens, and it doesn't mean that the impression is an entirely negative one.  You know how menu photos of food rarely really resemble what shows up?  Well, that's because menus are using the food item's eHarmony* picture.  Sometimes what you get isn't exactly what it looked like on paper but I've had very few bad experiences with meeting people via the Interwebz.

So, today, meeting a new person for lunch. No big deal, right? Well, ok, I make EVERYTHING a big deal but in the grand scheme of things, this isn't major, it's lunch.  We find one another, we sit down, we order, and we start talking. He starts talking.

Turns out, by "separated/divorced" he actually meant "haven't gotten around to leaving my wife yet but it's totally on my to-do list and right now I think I just want to run around some to make sure I'm sure, but it's all kind of the same thing, right?" 

Seriously, I don't have a lot of deal-breakers.  Looking at my dating history I daresay I'm pretty damned open-minded (Sabine would say way too damned open minded, but then, Sabine loves hearing the stories).  HOWEVER...

Lemme just say this - and I'm going to preach it like I'm the One Who Makes The Rules.  "Still Married" is not "Separated." Separated means - We've moved out. We're working on figuring out whose Grateful Dead T-shirt that was in the first place, but one of us has signed a lease somewhere else, or gone back to Momma's, and we're done with this and we're going to get to a lawyer soon but we may have to wait for our tax return.  Life might still be messy but we're done. That's what "Separated" is.  Once you've hit "Separated," if'n you think you are ready for it then fine- go put yourself on the dating-and-eligible market. Get yourself a profile or a wingman, and have at it, just disclose your status clearly.  And- in the event it needs saying- "Divorced" means that you're NO LONGER MARRIED. Right? Right.

If you've not gotten to one of those points, though, and you just absolutely positively can't refrain from shopping around, do the rest of us a favor and go find a "married but looking" website or support group or whatever.  I don't adhere to that set of ethics but whatever.  Call it what it is, though.  That way any participants (or potential ones) in your activities are at least fully informed and not sitting across from you in public contemplating hitting you in the nose because you're breaking the rules.

And no. I did not stick around for the food to actually get to the table (nor did I initiate any physical violence). I left. Because that's what righteously indignant derby girls do when people break the rules of common sense and fair gameplay. Instead, I came back to work and had lunch with my office girls, and now I'm going to order myself a new set of skate wheels just because I can because married men annoy me and wheels are cooler than a little black dress any day.  But first, I'm going to watch this clip of my very favorite example of RIGHTEOUS INDIGNATION.

*Nope. I do not, nor will I ever again, have an eHarmony profile. I did, once, about 9 years ago or so. They FIRED ME.  eHarmony can burn.

Just another night in the country...

Fylgir doesn't always sleep in her crate at night. Some nights, if she's being good, the crate door stays open and she can roam around if she likes. She still ends up spending most of the night in her own spot but she likes to patrol.  Last night was one of those nights... and at about 1:15, she went OMGNUTS!!!!111!!  She's not really a barker, so I got up to check it out.  I think there may have been raccoons frolicking in the yard for there definitely were not any intruders.  No big deal... the barking happened again at 1:20. And at 1:23. And at 1:28- and the puppy went to her crate for the night at that point.
At 1:33, just as I was getting ready to fall back to sleep, my phone dinged with a Facebook Message indicator.  A random person with whom I share no mutual friends had sent me a "Hi, How are you?" message.

Messages from strangers aren't an odd thing and they don't bother me a bit.  Messages from strangers while my dog is going BatShitCrazy when those strangers happen to share the same name as a major Horror Movie Bad Guy make me have special dreams.  There's a reason why I've never seen Saw. Or Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Or anything else that involves dead cheerleaders and/or summer campers.  I have a creative imagination.  The sole Nightmare on Elm Street that I've seen gave me night terrors and The Others was just traumatic. 

Not sexy.

Anyhow- so I read the message and click on the profile and the picture, at least on my phone screen, was really tiny and fuzzy.  Tiny and fuzzy and made me immediately convinced that there was a Horror Movie Murderer outside of my house Facebooking me before he killed me and I'd just locked my alarm system in a crate and she NEVER barks so if she's barking then there MUST be a psycho on the loose and did I lock the door? I never lock the door... maybe I should lock the door but what if he's already in the house?  I think I should just lay here and try to look like a pile of blankets, I think.

Is that a...goat?

So I did that, just lay there, and tried to convince my mind that it wasn't THAT Michael Myers. It was MIKE Myers whose roles in Wayne's World and So I Married an Axe Murderer led to my first celebrity crush and I'm still pretty sure I wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating bacon. So, ok, that's who it was.  He's tracked me down, wants to chat me up, let's just think on that as we try to fall asleep.  That's better.


It worked- and then I had dreams all night long of Austin Powers and Shrek getting stalked by creepy guys in hockey masks (and yes, I know that's Jason but work with me here), which sucked massively and resulted in me hitting 'snooze' for an extra 30 minutes, very nearly being back to work, and harboring serious fantasies about replying to my random message with a tutorial in how to NOT interact with strangers when you have a Hollywood Horror name, but that'd probably be rude. 



--

I haven't made a single thing all week (except for weird nightmares) but I have been having a great time, skating, and gearing up for a great weekend that probably will involve some art... or the cleaning of some firearms, which almost counts if you look at it the right way.

--

Sabine got me this diary for Valentine's Day.  I have found in the week that I've had it that jotting down a sentence or so right before bed isn't a hardship at all and I'm really hoping I can stick with it. You should get one, too, and then in 5 years we can all have a diary reading party.  It'll be off the chain! er... hook?  Chain.  Crap.  What is it the kids are saying these days again?

--

It's going to be a triple latte sort of day.

But nobody ever asks me how to set a table...

I freaking LOVE etiquette.  It saddens me that nobody learns how to set a table in Home-Ec (or finishing school) anymore. The thank-you note is practically dead and the RSVP card is following in it's wake. My friends who love me the most though know how much I like niceties, even if I'm a little bit crass most times.  I actually cried real fat crocodile tears when I discovered that Miss Manners' Guide to Domestic Tranquility was out of print, because then it was necessary for me to find another fallback wedding present and a blender is just overdone.  Every woman should have a book on their shelf that can make them aware of the proper thing to do in a given situation and then she can make an educated decision about whether or not she's going to pay attention. Right? Right.  Anyhow- sometimes, I get great "so what do I do now?" questions, and with permisison (but with identities withheld) I decided to share in the interest of not telling you what I had for lunch.


"A new friend left his toothbrush at my house. It kind of freaks me out. What do I do?"

There are three kinds of morning-after toothbrushes:

The one left on purpose,
The one left by accident,
and the one left "by accident."

If he asked you if he could leave his toothbrush there and you said yes, then congratulations! I'm pretty sure that that's kind of the same thing as having a boyfriend nowadays.  You should probably stop calling him your new friend and work on figuring out what his last name is... hopefully you've got his first one already.

Telling the toothbrush left "by accident" from the one legitimately forgotten is probably only going to be determined by actually saying "hey, you left your toothbrush here" and then gauging whether the response is more "oh, darn" or "oh, you caught me marking my territory."  But really- does it matter? I suggest you put it in a ziplock labeled with his name and drop it in a drawer so it won't be in your way.  That's the most hygienic option. If you end up with multiple toothbrushes in multiple ziplocks, then it might be time to consider your choices... or consider relegating some of those to the trash can.  Or maybe that's the way you roll and if that's the case- I won't judge you! Regardless, don't invite him to fish through the drawer to find his own ziplock. That reeks of lazy hostessing and is the unattractive kind of slutty.

Under no circumstances should you head to your local "paint your own pottery" joint and design him his very own special custom labeled toothbrush cup.  That just looks clingy.  Not that I've ever done that.

Please don't be this girl, either.

"Last year this guy said he liked me, then he spend the next few months ignoring me and hanging all over someone else. Now he's called me and wants to go out. What should I do?"

So last year, did you say "I like you, too?" Did you actually like him too?  In the year that has passed, have you seen him? Been friends? Has something changed about your dynamic? Are you more emotionally available than you were? Is he?

I suck at saying "I like you." Honestly, if I say that and it's not been very clearly solicited with a great big flashing sign with LED letters and possibly an instructional video like they have on big airplanes, then it is time for somebody to pry the bourbon out of my hand and put me to bed because I am just not a forward sort of girl when my wits are about me.  If your gentleman friend said "I like you" and you either:
a) blushed and giggled
b) mumbled "thank you" and changed the subject
or
c) pretended you did not hear him,

then you don't really get to have a complaint with him spending his time with somebody else.  Either grow a pair or miss out.  If this is the case and you botched it, then hey! Thank God for second chances, and go for it. Remember to be a little bit sweet since this guy has obviously been pining for a year and worked up the nerve to try again- and maybe if he says "I like you" try saying "I like you, too." I have it on good account that that has never actually killed anybody... and if it doesn't kill you, let me know. Maybe one day I'll try it, too.

On the other hand, if you owned the situation the first time and let it be known that you were interested, then he does not get a second swing at your pinata.  To quote one of my favorite musicians, "Life is too short to spend with somebody who doesn't think that you kick ass"(Fred LeBlanc).  People oops and make mistakes but if there was an understood "we dig one another" and you got no closure then it really doesn't warrant a second chance.  Sure, there could have been a weird situation there. Maybe he got back with an ex, or maybe somebody else threw themselves on his grenade before you did. It happens... but considerate people at least explain what's going on to their potential suitors.  He may not be a bad guy but if he left you hanging, he wasn't thinking of your feelings then and chances are, he's not going to start now.

 
So, that's me. Now I'm going to go back to inundating my derby girls with emails about the upcoming parade and about eleventybillion "Wouldn't it be cool if..." ideas that seem to be breeding like bunnies. Bunnies in fishnets!

Anything, anything, anything to avoid returning to the prompted posts.

YAYs:

• Last night's joint practice with the Texarkana Vixens was really good. I was super impressed with my own team's leadership and all the freakin' good attitudes.  Seriously.  It's like we'd freebased pixies and kindergartners with unicorns or something, everybody was just SO DAMN HAPPY to drive an hour + in the rain to meet a bunch of new girls.  I kind of feel like I've been hit by a bus wearing fishnets today.  It is a great feeling, at least when compared to what I imagine being hit by a real bus would be like. 

• You'd think that just openly asking all of the Alumni and former students of a College when they'd like to have their reunion would result in mass chaos. So far it hasn't, and it looks like the LSC reunion is likely to take place on Easter weekend.  I'm impressed with how almost everybody has said "well, this weekend would be best for me but I'll move mountains to make it whenever."  I'm just so eager for whenever it is to GET HERE.  I am also extremely grateful that nobody has tried to do the whole "this year, or this set of years reunites this weekend and then this other block goes on this other weekend."

•  My craft room is significantly more workable.  I can get to BOTH work tables, all the shelves, and even have an EMPTY shelf for works-in-progress.  All of the thread lives together, likewise the buttons and the applique material and the MAPP gas canisters and the 46 exacto blades.  It is lovely.  If anybody opens the closet, they might die, but if nobody opens the closet (which might require moving a 100 lb table that just happened to find itself in front of the door, and seriously, that'd just be rude anyway) I can continue to harbor the delusion that I'm an organized girl who has my shit together and I'd really like to maintain that for just a little while, k?

Seriously. Do NOT open the closet. Please.


UGHs:

• Situations have led to my canceling my Florida vacation this weekend.  It's a combination of feeling like I oughtn't be that far from my dad right now and not wanting to burn up vacation time I may need later for family stuff.  I feel like a bit of an ass for bailing on friends I really wanted to spend some time with.  Maybe in a month or so I can find someplace to burn up the airline credit but not today.  I have a few things I can look forward to instead of the trip, namely a Girls' Night Out this Friday and a Cowboy Mouth concert that will likely improve my disposition, but even as great as those things are,they are not a trip to Miami to spend time with an amazing old friend and a pretty fantastic newer one.    

• I was going to try to start on a specific silk project only to discover that it has been so long since I painted on silk that my materials had either separated (bad) or dried up (also bad).  Suck. My ass is growing (er, raising? Lifting? Reassigning her zip codes?). My waist is shrinking. This makes things like wearing clothes problematic.  Since October 1:

Calves are down 1"+.
Thighs are down 1.5".
Waist is down 2".
Hip - UP 1.5".
Bust- Down 2.5" (FML)
Underbust- down 1".

Please do not think that I'm saying that making accomplishments towards some of my fitness goals fall under bad. That- by itself- falls under AWESOME.  The "bad" part is that I am shaped weird and my boobs are going away and this makes things like wearing clothes kind of suck.  

• Seth Rogen is not nearly as hot now that he's lost so much weight.  I'm just throwing that out there.

•  The universe has been insistent in pointing out to me that there was a bus that I missed (not literally.  Figuratively, yo).  Dear Universe- I Get It.  Noted, and stuff.  I don't think that my job here is to fix the bus-missing, but to accept the bus-missing and make an effort to not do it again. Of course, I could be wrong. It happens often. Right or wrong, I'll leave you with this. If you're going to have a song stuck in your head on a Monday, this should totally be it.  

Prompted: Day 5--- Something you hope to do in your life.

Seriously? Have you MET me?

I want to do so many things. I wouldn't say I've got a huge bucket list, but I have a list of things I'd like to get to, if the getting is good.

I want to nail 25 laps in 5 minutes and improve my derby skills all the way around, considerably.
I want to take a cruise, even though sunlight hates me.
I want to go back to Alaska as an adult, and revisit my childhood.
I want to jump out of a perfectly good airplane.
I want to find an easy-to-maintain, age-appropriate hairstyle that actually works with my hair.
I want to get my pelican tattoo designed and done, and 2 of my others retouched/fixed.
I want to have at least a year's worth of living expenses socked away in a safe place where I can get to it, where it won't cost me a stupid amount of fees to get to it, and to never, ever have to touch it.I want to find a situation for my dad that is comfortable for him but lets me keep an eye on him better than I'm doing now.
I want to have a BMI that falls soundly within the range of "normal" for once in my life.
I want to be comfortable in my own skin.
I want to be better at this whole "unconditional love" thing.
I want to be able to do 100 pushups.  Real ones, not girly ones.
I want to find more reading material that speaks to me on a spiritual level.
I want to attend every single live music event I can find, and really get into it.
I want to more fully enjoy the experience of meeting new people.
I want to more fully enjoy the experience of knowing the people I have.

And really and truly, though it doesn't matter much to anybody in the grand scheme of things, I want to learn how to dance.


This post is part of the 30 Days of Truth Challenge .  

"She's not crazy, knock on wood, just a little misunderstood"

"Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results" - Albert Einstein

It's not a secret- I've been playing the "Do you like Pina Coladas?" Game, as a dear one refers to it. I'm talking about the game that is internet dating... and you know what? I'm finally willing to say it. I do not like that game.

It's a conundrum of sorts to be an in-betweener in the dating world.  I'm in between EVERYTHING, I think. I am not looking for a husband, nor am I looking for a one-night stand.  I'm somewhere in that black void between being a BBW and a normal girl, and trust me when I say- target audiences VARY there.  I'm not looking for Mr. Right Now for sure, but I'm not beating the bushes to try to flush out Mr. Right, either-- and for that, I'm not certain there is a target audience at all.   

I like to date, don't get me wrong. I like to have somebody to go out with, to talk to and text with 90 times a day and to make plans with... and yeah, that other stuff. I do not enjoy the "go out with Joey on Tuesday and Fred on Thursday and work Todd in on weekends" thing- I do not have that sort of attention span. And, well, I don't want to go from Zero-to-Shacked Up right now.

Historically, the people I've dated and not had bad endings with have been people that I knew first as friends or at least acquaintances, and as a result, when we emerged on the other side of whatever had evolved, we were still friends but with more history and more understanding of one another.  I like that. It appeals to my sense of building relationships as a form of investment and it dispels the concept that people are disposable. I mean, really... I kind of look at a "significant other" for lack of a better term as a friend with an add-on package.  I've still got to have the same ability to have a conversation and share a joke and build a sense of rapport, and then after that, there's all the other stuff.  If the other stuff goes away, the foundation is still there.  So, with that being the sort of person I am, the "audition" aspect of meeting a stranger to see if there's a romantic connection is just flat out exhausting. It's nerve-racking, a little bit humiliating, and kind of like a trip to a seedy strip club, it leaves you feeling a bit dirty when you're done, even if all you did was get a handshake and a cup of coffee. 

Before this past year or so, I'd only dabbled in the world of E-Dating once (that once that I got 'fired' by eHarmony, specifically, which should have been a sign), and it wasn't good then.  Take two hasn't been much better.  This past year has introduced me to a handful of friends... and a handful of people who I had one visit with, and then through some unspoken agreement of The Way Things Work, communication just never happened again.  I only had one truly BAD experience, all told, but still... yes, I'm grateful to have made new friends, but I'm not built for the obstacle course.  The apprehension beforehand of whether you're wearing the right thing, or whether or not you're going to end up at Captive Dinner Theatre with bad chemistry and a slow waiter.  The apprehension afterward... if you felt something and they didn't, there's rejection. If they did and you didn't, there's the need to be nice about it but still be firm in the rejection process.  And then if you both felt something, there's the issue of there being chemistry with no foundation of anything, which is just outside my comfort zone. 

Anyhow- the bottom line is, while I love meeting new people, I've FINALLY come to the conclusion that this is not the way for me to do it. I can't determine, upon saying a first 'hello' what I'm looking for when I'm looking at the other side of that conversation.  I just do not have the ability to tunnel-vision that way, to say "well, I have these positions open and maybe you can fill in here." I'm basically a happy person who doesn't usually feel a particular void that can be so easily labeled, and I find more joy in just organically figuring out that this new person is exactly the thing I didn't know I was looking for... even if it's just as a new movie buddy, or sushi partner, or whatever. 

So, I think I'm going to try out the thing that's worked so well for me before... being friendly and keeping my mind open, but doing it in person and not judging a book by the flyleaf (which is really what a dating profile is, IMO)... and not getting in a hurry. 

I had this conversation with a beloved one yesterday, and she wanted to know if this was "because" of something.  Ah.... no simple answers. Yes, and no.  It was a very recent conversation with an internet-acquaintance-gone-realtime that spurred the thought process, but that's not an attribution of credit for a decision, just for a thought that lead to another one.  I'm not feeling burned or burned-out, just redirected.  Redirection isn't bad at all, and honestly, I just feel the biggest sense of relief now that I've given myself permission to do what it is that I do the most comfortably.

And I still hate Pina Coladas.

title credit: Misunderstood, Better than Ezra