Confession # 99

Last night I figured out what it is I am really looking for… BORING.

Yesterday was really busy. I had three different events I was scheduled to attend, and all three required that I show up as a completely different personality—The dedicated mom; The hip single chick who knows her stuff about wine, but who is also a supportive friend; finally the girlfriend who listens, understands, and can actually sit through an art film and see it as real life and not some strange movie that other friends just don’t get because it is so outside the scope of their perfectly manicured worlds.

Busy day… but I was home by 10:30. My house was empty and quiet. It was nice, except something or should I say someone was missing.

HE was missing. That fabulously boring guy who is just sitting on the couch watching SportsCenter. That fabulously boring guy who says, ‘Home already? How did it go?’ than makes room for me on the couch so I can cuddle up with him. That fabulously boring guy, who wants to hear all the details, but understands that I will not say a word.

That is who was missing. Mr. Saturday night—come settle in with me, boring guy.

Okay, I don’t want him to be boring all the time. And maybe boring isn’t even the right word. I just want that guy.

You all know what I am talking about! That guy… No games, no conflict. Just easy, comfortable, simple, nice. That guy…

Confession # 98

I am a sucker for the nice guy.

I met this man last weekend, he was kind of cute so I gave him my number, and he called me last night.

I could tell immediately that he was completely wrong for me.

I wasn’t thrilled about his voice. (Voices for me are huge)
He says, ANYWAYS! (My biggest pet peeve)
And he does not like wine. Hates it as a matter of fact. (…)

He clearly is not the guy for me.

But, I am really sick, and in my Nyquil induced state, I found myself engaged in conversation a lot longer that I normally would have been. He was nice enough. He told me about his job and his life and listen to me talk about mine, between the hacking and sneezing.

I figured once I was better, I would deal with the salutation, if the situation actually became a situation.

Then this morning the phone rang. I was in a deep sleep, more Nyquil, so I did not get it. The message machine picked it up and it was the guy.

He left sweetest message:

He wanted to check up on me because I was sick. He told me it was such nice day outside so I should sit in my backyard and let the sun heal me. He told me to sleep and drink liquids and not to worry about calling him back. He just wanted me to know that he was thinking about me.

How sweet is that!

He is all wrong for me, but I was truly touched. Maybe I should have coffee with him. No… The ANYWAYS will drive me crazy.

Confession # 97

I hate men today.

I am tired of juvenile behavior. I am tried of rude attempts at humor. I am tired of harassing comments. I am tired of insane jealousy. I am tired of male insecurity. I am tired of all these things, but the thing I am most tired of is when I call these men on this unacceptable behavior, I am label the problem. A Bitch.

Well I have said it before and I will say it again—Sometime being called a Bitch is a compliment.

To the man who told me I was an uptight Bitch because I asked him to stop sending me text message about the size of breast. I would just like to say, THANK YOU FOR THE COMPLIMENT!

To the man who cannot answer a simple question with a simple answer because he is trying to throw me off my frame, and then whispers “bitch” under his breath as I walk away to find a grown up. I would just like to say, THANK YOU FOR THE COMPLIMENT!

To the man who described me as a High Maintenance Rich Bitch, because I own my own home, buy myself nice things, and have money in the bank, and he lives in a one bedroom apartment with milk crates as bookshelves, and has no money saved and is the ripe old age of 42. I would just like to say, THANK YOU FOR THE COMPLIMENT!

To all of the BOYS who think they are MEN, THANK YOU FOR THE COMMPLIMENT!

Confession # 96

I have run away to Mendocino again, but this time with the love of my life. My daughter.

As I sit here this morning taking in the view, I cannot decide which is more beautiful, the ocean or my sleeping child. She is so amazing and so deserving, I make no apologies for being so picky about the men I bring into my life.

I have these little tests that I challenge all the men I date with. They are things that may only matter to me, but they tell me a lot. The results of the tests and not black or white, but I know when someone fails them, and thus fails me.

I know this all sounds like I am looking for faults, but I am not. I am just being very selective, and I have a right to be. I have a responsibility to be. My daughter will have relationships that mirror the ones she sees me in. The only one she really knows so far is the one I had with her father, and I do not want that for her.

She needs to see me with a man who values me, a man who respects me, a man who truly loves me; she needs to see me in a relationship where I can be me and not make any apologies for it. So if someone thinks my tests are stupid, manipulative, or that I am just being too picky. I invite you to watch my 7-year-old daughter sleep and dream.

Confession # 95

I believe the only way to survive the dating game is to
DATE LIKE A MAN!

At brunch yesterday I was telling my friends about my date Friday night. The reactions I got varied greatly between the men and the women.

My Girlfriends were practically picking out wedding gowns for me but my Guyfriends said, that is great, but keep your options open. Take it for what it was… One good date! And one good date does not a relationship make!

Since I am dating men and not women I am going to listen to the advice of my target audience.

That is right, I am going to approach this with a sound mind—meaning I am not going to put all my eggs in this basket. I am not going to start doodling his name on napkins at Starbucks or planning romantic summer getaways. I am not going to get swept away in romance because I had one good date.

Yes I would like to see this man again, but who knows if I actually will. We both said we would call, but I have not picked up a phone and he has not rung mine. It was left as a to be continued... but in reality it was what it was, one good date.

It means there will be other good dates, there will be a whole lot of other bad dates, but there will be other good ones. That is all I really need to know and believe, now that my one good date changed my mind about coupling.

Confession # 94

I don’t scare easily… But tonight I met a man who scared me to death.

I have never met anyone I was so comfortable and uncomfortable with all at the same time.

He walked into the wine bar and it was magic.

There was not the normal awkwardness of a first meeting, or nervous tension of a first date. It was natural, like we have been together for years and we were just meeting for our normal Friday night out.

When he touched me I did not flinch because he broke, without permission, those three feet of personal space I value so much. No, when he put his arm around me I melted into him.

When he kissed me it was perfect. I quivered. I can still feel his kisses on my lips—soft as butterflies, and sweet as peppermint.

I really like this man! I really, really like this man.

I have always said, I was perfectly happy to be single, that I have no real desire to really couple again. Well, unless someone comes along to change my mind.

I think he is that someone.

Confession # 93

I think I have a boyfriend…

I really don’t know how it happened or how I even feel about it.

I met this guy the other day at a cooking class. We went out afterwards for drinks and now he calls everyday—sometimes even more than once a day. Today he called me to tell me he was going to lunch.

Lunch is good, but do I really need to know that? I guess he just wanted me to know in case I wanted to call him with any decorating ideas since he asked me last night to go with him pick out furniture for this new house he might get someday.

WOW!

Now I just have to figure out how I tell my new “Boyfriend” that I have a date on Friday with some other guy who has me all hot and bothered.

How do I get myself into these situations? Better question… How do I get out?