Another Reason Why I'm Still Single...

Not classy, no. Just trashy. Sigh...

Other Fish In The Sea/Trolling for Men

My forays into online dating found me, late one night - the night before Thanksgiving, to be IMing several different guys. Both guys mentioned that they didn’t understand why they were single; that they thought they were a ‘great catch’. One guy kept saying how he couldn’t understand why I was still single. As if he’d ever met me in person!
It got me to thinking, ‘Are any of us really great catches after all?’ Of course we all are special in our own way and we’d like to believe that all our little peculiarities and idiosyncrasies would be perfectly charming and adorable to the right person. But really maybe they’d be annoying to almost anyone. Like my habit of always running late. Or licking my plates clean. I mean, I doubt that will be too cute to too many people.
Really, most of us are horribly flawed in many ways; it’s just a matter of finding someone whose flaws are compatible with our flaws. Or someone who is delusional enough to find us utterly charming despite our flaws! Because we all have them.
Don’t get me wrong. I DO think I’m great. And I’m pissed that no one has picked me yet! BUT if I’m such a great catch, than why, every time after I am 'caught', do I find myself tossed right back into the sea? Or really the question might be - why do I toss myself right back into the sea?
And why are there so many fishing analogies for dating anyway?!!

I don't think so!

E (See Dating in Vain) called me up today and left a VM saying "I have a GREAT surprise for you tomorrow night. After work I can come by your house and bring a bottle of wine..." I was like 'WTF????!!!' THIS is my surprise?! This guy inviting himself to my house with the assumption that we are going to fuck?! What the hell is wrong with men?!? Apparently chivalry is truly dead! I didn't even kiss this guy on the last date so I would say he's reaching a bit. I called him up and said "If you want to hang out and get to know me as a person, I'd like that but I just want to clarify that I'm not going to sleep with you." He was like "...uhhhhh why do you say that? I didn't think that, I have more class...." Yeah right! Last time I checked 'bring a bottle of wine to your house' (at 10pm at night) basically means 'Hook up'. Needless to say the conversation was a bit short after that.

The Persistance of Memory

Last night I dreamed of my ex boyfriend. I had recently cleaned out my closet. In the far back I found what knew would be there. A little plastic bag tied up tightly containing; clothes he had left behind here, a leather belt I had given him, his flip flops. I must admit I smelled his clothes, searching for any trace left of him. Then I put the bag in the garbage. I had been keeping it all this time thinking surely there would be an occasion for me to return it. But I've known for a while now that I will probably never see him again.

I broke up with him this January over the phone. Things weren't going anywhere after a year and I was frustrated. But I was really in love with this guy. The kind of in love that is sickening to witness - all kissing and touching and laughing and adoring stares. Everyone told me that I looked really happy. I was really happy. For a moment.

I was also a bit delusional, I think. He was from Brazil, here to work, save money and go back. He never tired of telling me stories about his country; about the many animals in the Amazon, the affection of his family, how good the food was (how REAL feijoada should taste), the beauty of the beaches, his time working in the slums of Rio, the pleasures of an ice cold Skol, how adorable his little nephew was, how he missed hanging out with everyone in his neighborhood - shirtless and drinking in the streets on a hot summer day. There was never much doubt that he was going back. I was just dumb enough to think that I might be invited along.

I had seen this man cry in front of me. I had seen this man cry because of me. I knew his warmth, his affection, his protection. I saw his loyalty to his family. He spent hours cooking for me in his tiny kitchen. He jumped rope with his nieces. I saw him take care of his older brother (who he lived with) after an unimaginable family tragedy. We laughed A LOT together. I taught him English. He taught me bad words in Portuguese. I was crazy about this guy. I was crazy.

He's still here. Saving money to go back to his country. Back to his family. Back to everything. I think his life here is just a point on a course, just some necessary time spent somewhere to get to where he really wants to be. He's building a house in Brazil. When he goes back he will have his own new house. I'm sure he will marry the girl who lives next door; she's been pretending not to, but she has been waiting for him all this time. I thought we'd at least say friends when we broke up. You know, talk once in a while, have a beer to catch up. But he doesn't want to be friends. I'm not sure if he knows how. Once he told me he was 'afraid to see me'. Or maybe he just doesn't care. I've spent months wondering why he doesn't want to see me. Months agonizing about it. Months of dreaming that he never loved me in the first place. Now I have to give up. I will never know the answer to these questions.

I have more questions for myself. What did this relationship represent to me? Why did I fall so hard for this guy? I think this was the ultimate form of escapism, to think that I could love someone and leave EVERYTHING behind. Too bad he didn't feel the same...

Teachers by Leonard Cohen

I met a woman long ago
Her hair the black that black can go,
Are you a teacher of the heart?
Soft she answered no.

I met a girl across the sea,
Her hair the gold that gold can be,
Are you a teacher of the heart?
Yes, but not for thee.

I met a man who lost his mind
In some lost place I had to find,
Follow me the wise man said,
But he walked behind.

I walked into a hospital
Where none was sick and none was well,
When at night the nurses left
I could not walk at all.

Morning came and then came noon,
Dinner time a scalpel blade
Lay beside my silver spoon.
Some girls wander by mistake
Into the mess that scalpels make.
Are you the teachers of my heart?
We teach old hearts to break.

One morning I woke up alone,
The hospital and the nurses gone.
Have I carved enough my Lord?
Child, you are a bone.

I ate and ate and ate,
No I did not miss a plate, well
How much do these suppers cost?
We'll take it out in hate.

I spent my hatred everyplace,
On every work on every face,
Someone gave me wishes
And I wished for an embrace.

Several girls embraced me, then
I was embraced by men,
Is my passion perfect?
No, do it once again.

I was handsome I was strong,
I knew the words of every song.
Did my singing please you?
No, the words you sang were wrong.

Who is it whom I address,
Who takes down what I confess?
Are you the teachers of my heart?
We teach old hearts to rest.

Oh teachers are my lessons done?
I cannot do another one.
They laughed and laughed and said, Well child,
Are your lessons done?
Are your lessons done?
Are your lessons done?

A Woman Ahead of Time

I just found an old favorite of mine, Fire, selections from the journals of Anais Nin. I just love her! She is so bold, so passionate, so wild, so unafraid. A true bohemian - doing things that most women didn't dare do then; taking on multiple lovers, experimenting with bisexuality, writing erotica, hanging out with Henry Miller and Otto Rank, traveling the world. And documenting it all. What a life...

'The life here so tame. The prety apartment, the pretty dinners, the pastel-colored friends, everything feeble. Money restrictions. Publishing restrictions. Open the windows! Let's have magnificence, splendor, hard work, miracles, coffee and toast, smiles, miracles, coffee and toast, smiles, health, jazz, schizophrenia, swift elevators, men with lovable bodies, unobtrusive minds minds that don't mar happiness, primitives.'

'The pain of leaving Rank, Thurema. It seemed to me that all my being was so aroused that I felt all mys loves at once and it was unbearable. So many loves. What am I? The Lover of the World. Crazed with love. Crazed with love. My whole body in pain, the pain of separation, loss, change.'
Anais Nin, from Fire, the unexpurgated diary of Anais Nin 1934-1937

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ana%C3%AFs_Nin

Dating in Vain

E’s one of those suave, handsome, worldly guys. We met at work when he came in with a bunch of international friends after one of their soccer games. He’s originally from Afghanistan but has lived all over the world – Brazil, Germany, France, Iran, Mexico, playing semi-professional soccer. Everything he says sounds great. He was extolling the virtues of universal love, beauty, nature, quoting the poet Rumi, and telling me how beautiful I was and trying to make out with me. Of course he made a delightful dinner companion – he enthused about the warmth of the Brazilian people, the beauty of Rio de Janiero and the the Amazon, told stories about wine tasting in France and discussed politics in the Middle East. He also let on that he was quite an expert lover. He even went so far as to share stories of women crying after making love with him and how he prayed aloud to god with a woman that 'this night would never end' because it was so wonderful. Unfortunately for him, I’m a hard sell at this point. I’m completely jaded toward most men and lines like ‘You are so gorgeous, like a painting. God really took his time with you.’ And ‘You are like an old movie star, from the black and white films.’ were ineffective with me. When I pointed out a mosquito bite on my cheek (because I thought he might think it was a big pimple!) he exclaimed ‘Who can blame the mosquito?!’ and started ardently kissing my cheek. I enjoyed him; he is sweet, chivalrous, sexy, interesting. But this is not a path I can go down. I’m sure he’s a good lover. That’s something that I have been very disappointed with; a lot of men seem to be a bit lazy in this respect. They are robotic in their love-making, not sensual. Still, I cannot imagine having sex with this guy who has no doubt been making love and whispering sweet nothings into the ears of women all over the globe. It still goes back to wanting to feel special. Sure it’s nice to be wined and dined and flattered by a handsome man but it all seems a bit hollow. Like he has uttered these very same phrases a million times. What is the meaning in them anymore?

“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” Rumi

The X Factor

My favorite antiestablishmentarian was in town this week. He is still completely insane, completely brilliant, and yes, completely sexy. The first night we ended up kissing. But the weird thing was despite how attracted to him I was, I couldn't totally enjoy it. It felt surreal and insincere. Maybe I'm just getting old and boring.
But seriously, I think the problem is, while I've always been aware that he is a notorious Lothario, his sexual exploits seem to have amplified over the years. It didn't help that I made the mistake of asking for too much detail. I mean most people would not interrogate someone who they used to date about their recent threesome. Unfortunately, I would. 'Oh really? With who? When? Where? So, how did it happen?' etc etc... So of course I got more details than I needed. Damn, it sounded like a freakin' porn video! Not to mention that he is currently in an 'open relationship' with someone. I am certainly not a prude but there are some things I would just not do. And an open relationship is one of them. In theory it sounds great. But inevitably it always seems to end up imbalanced. When I questioned M about it he admitted that while he had slept with at least 8 other people since being with this girl, she'd slept with no one else (not counting the other girl in the threesome that is!)
Truth be told, I guess all his sexual adventuresomeness put me off a bit. I finally got whiff of why guys are sometimes put off by promiscuous girls. Everyone wants to feel special. And after hearing about the hot 23 yr old intern he wants to hook up with, the crazy sex he had with his coworker, how a sexy lawyer went down on him in the bathroom at a party, blah blah, I wasn't feeling too special.
We still have a great time together though. A couple days later we hung out all day talking about everything - love, sex, Obama, racism, Communism, religion, whatever. We got drunk and sang Iggy Pop songs. We listened to the same Air song 4 times in a row. We asked each other for relationship advice. We cracked each other up. We read quotes out loud to each other and drank wine with ice cubes in it.
He slept on my couch. When I woke up, I was happy. There were no regrets from the previous night, no awkward moments. Just someone who was my friend. And I was really glad about that.

Size matters

There is this busser at my work who is from Honderous . At first he seemed very professional but as usual our relationship has degenerated into sexual innuendos. I wonder why? He pretends to bite my ass when I go up the stairs in front of him. Hmmmm....
Anyway, today when he saw me he asked me what I had done last night. "Nothing." I told him. "I stayed at home. Why?" He was like, "Well, you look like crap today. Really tired." Normally he calls me 'Hot Girl'. I was momentarily annoyed. But the truth was, I felt like shit, I'd had one beer and stayed up until 2 in the morning reading through old emails. It was pretty depressing. I managed to dredge up a lot of old drama with guys that I had been dating over the past 6 years. Actually, it made me really sad. Sad that I didn't stick up for myself more. Sad for taking a lot of the B.S. that they put me through. Sad that I was so naive. Sad because a lot of the friends that I was emailing about all this drama are now married or engaged. And I'm still out here floundering around. The pool seems to get smaller and smaller. My chances dwindling fast. I feel like I hardly have enough oxygen to breath. So, yeah I might have looked a bit haggard.
Later he asked me what cup size I was. I laughed. I felt a little better.

Why I'm still single (An exchange)

Me:

Wait til I tell you what I said to the guy I
went out with last night...
When he told me he'd had major surgery a year ago, I
innocently asked "oh what did you have done - penis
enlargement?!!" I kid you not. It turns out he had
heart surgery. I guess he wasn't offended b/c he
emailed me today and wants to go out again.
I am a menace to mankind!


Friend:

Why doesn't that surprise me? Even a little tiny
bit??

Me: (this is about a different guy from above, I was dating them both briefly)

Apparently I wasn't as well behaved as I thought the other
night...
I seemed to have blacked out this little detail but
I guess I called A to make sure he got home ok
after we hung out last time. When he said he had I
then asked him to rate himself in bed!!!! Oooops!
He said I should rate myself too. According to him I
told him "Well, I'm the center of the universe, so of
course I'm great!" HUH?! That doesn’t even make sense!
Jeeeeezzus. 3 glasses of wine, some pot, a sexy guy
and my mentally ill brain are not a good
combination!
Luckily he seems more amused than frightened by
this.
Just wait til he gets to know me better. heh heh...

*************************************************************************

Note: Above guy dumped me a couple weeks later via email. Can’t say I didn’t have it coming to me…

Email from the Chilean Boy

I was cleaning out my email account and I stumbled upon this little gem. How can I not adore this email?
Hi.
are you still feeling depresive about your life?

> ...but you are so beatiful!
> nothing happend with me, just being a homeboy today,
> putting a candle this
> saturday evening, my girlfriend went out to work.
> feeling lonely about all.
> hearing Bjork.
> I just remind you, because Im a strupid melancolic
> looking all this stupid
> san franciscan people at myspace.com
> I don´t like my city neather.
> what are you doing now?
> Im preparing 3 videoart shows for next year. buying
> a super 8mm cinema
> camera for it.
> you should see any Igmar Bergman movie then you will
> get more depresive,
> then you finally´ll commit suicide.(but dont do it)
>
> I hope seeyou before I die
> you should go to Venezuela.
> I love you I hate you.
> ps: your spanish sux

Open Minded

In matters of love and sex I am a Populist. An equal-opportunity lover. You need not even speak much of the English language. My main requirements are that I am attracted to you and that you are basically a good person. ‘Basically a good person’ being pretty open ended to me. Otherwise, you may hail from any corner of the earth, speak any language, be a mechanic or a king, I don’t care. I will find some innate beauty and sweetness in you. You see, every intimate experience with another individual is a secret little treasure to me, something very special and sacred. Perhaps I sound like I am just trying to justify my slutty ways with some sort of prententiousness. But I really do feel this way. For all the torture and heartbreak of relationships gone wrong, for all the loneliness and the emptiness of casual affairs that never led to anything, I am glad I got to know (in some small way) each person. I sound like the female version of Julio Iglesias… ‘to all the men I’ve loved before…’.

Orgins of it all:

The road to excess leads to the palace of wisdom... for we never know what is enough until we know what is more than enough.

William Blake

I didn’t have any boyfriends in high school. To my knowledge no boys liked me. I was fat, weird and I wore a black trench coat all the time. Even in the summer when it was really hot. Sometimes I put my backpack on under my trench coat and pretended that I was a hunchback. Needless to say, I wasn’t too sexy. I desperately wanted to fall in love with someone and have sex but I pretty much figured it would never, ever happen for me. Instead I sat at home listening to The Cure, The Violent Femmes and The Smiths, alone in my room. I was busy writing long dark poems, smearing my blood in my journal and planning out my funeral. Oh, did I mention that I didn’t have too many friends either?

If I didn’t end up killing myself, I thought I might join the convent and become a nun. My mom was a nun for 6 years before meeting my Dad. If she could do it, so could I. I wanted to have sex but I figured no one would ever want to have it with me so this seemed like a practical solution to things.

After I moved away from the backwoods where I grew up and started college in the city, I miraculously lost 30 pounds and my virginity. It was amazing. For the first time in my life boys were noticing me, interested in me and I felt … not sexy… but on a good day, sorta pretty. In my early 20s I had a boyfriend who was totally in love with me. The kind of guy who would tell me I was the prettiest girl in the world (and who meant it when he said it), the kind of guy who told me I was beautiful everyday, the kind of guy who brought me flowers and wrote me poems and wanted to marry me. The kind of boy who gives you ‘letters and sodas’ (Liz Phair, Fuck and Run). Never-the-less this was all a bit much for me at the time. I don’t know if I handled it quite the way I should have. Because the thing was, once I got a taste for men and sex, once I felt a little bit attractive, I got a little greedy. I wanted to go out there and try it all! I wanted to have all kinds of wild and crazy love affairs with the men of the world. And I did. As they say ‘be careful what you wish for because you just might get it.’ Well that’s exactly what happened – I got way too much of what I wished for.

Exhibitionism in the 21st Century

My friend Julie has been harassing me to start a blog. Mostly because she is amused by my woeful tales of dating and the pathetic single life I lead. I’ve never really been one to consider writing a blog. The internet is already cluttered enough with messy intimate details of people’s personal lives. The world itself is saturated with the collective expression of our hopes, sorrows, secrets, hatreds, loves. Sometimes I wish I didn’t talk as much as I did. Sometimes I wish I was more silent and mysterious. Broadcasting into cyberspace the intricate details of my personal life and demented daily thought processes seems a bit much. But one of the most fun things about life is getting to do things you swore you’d never try. And changing your mind. My life is ALL about changing my mind!

So, this goes out to all the lonely single people out there, still having faith (often in the complete absence of any sign that things might ever change for them), that they will one day meet someone who might truly GET them, or at least desire to try. It also goes out to those comfortably enscounced in relationships who want to vicariously experience all the cheap thrills and wrist-slittingly depressing moments of single-DOOM that seem like a distant memory to them. Enjoy.