Exciting reconnection

My best friend is a musician. She is also very, very extroverted. During the height of the first COVID summer my ex-wife and I were in her backyard with another couple drinking and eating cheese and veggies. I had brought a beautiful bottle of RosĂ©, and it was good, and the bottle and stopper were gorgeous. I was drinking. My ex-wife doesn’t drink at all. Awkward doesn’t scratch the surface. One of the women with whom she’d performed in an amazing canyon the summer before just has dark energy. Her partner sat mostly quietly. My ex-wife wanted to leave when we got there. That wasn’t unique.

My best friend was having a concert this October and it was going to be at the partner’s house. Not sure when the couple broke up. I’ll find out soon. The concert was fairly inexpensive, but the people she’d invited couldn’t afford it, so it was cancelled. My best friend was disappointed because she really wants me to be connected with this woman. Last Wednesday, my best friend had lunch with her and she told her to give her my number. Not sure why my best friend wasn’t down for that, but she sent us a connection email.

Here is what I wrote back to the connection email:

“Hi, ___,

Do you hike or cycle?

Kindly,

______.”

Several days later I got back the cutest email. She doesn’t remember me. When you’re in partnership that’s exclusive and you live together it has an effect on what you see, connect to, and are open with in terms of others. I sent her a picture of a glass wine stopper because she had complimented the bottle two-years ago–my God, it will be three in July, and now that I’m thinking about it, I think that bottle is in my son’s room with a plant in it, but I wanted her to have a visual of something she’d said to me then. She had given me her number in the cute email, so we’ve exchanged lots of texts Monday through yesterday. I wasn’t heavily flirtatious or anything, but we’d just made plans so I wanted to her to have the knowledge that we did indeed meet almost three years ago so I sent that picture.

She had said in her email that she’d like to get a drink/coffee/hike/bike. I made hiking plans with her for Sunday. I actually can’t wait! She’s really cute. Reddish, blondish hair, large blue eyes. I can’t remember, but I do think she’s taller than me which is my historical norm. I want: great conversation, and two hugs. I want the last hug to be tighter and closer. Of course, I’ll get what I want and that’s exercise. I need a woman with whom I can hike and bike who I think is attractive. I don’t necessarily need to be taught something from a woman such as climbing or dancing, because it creates a power differential, which I don’t think is super healthy with someone who you kiss.

The climber is all stressed out. When I see her on Thursday at the tail end of my work party, I’m just going to give her a hug and read her energy. She had to make an appointment for Thursday and I thought that it was going to be Monday, but the person helping her with legal navigation with her ex wasn’t available on Monday. I don’t have any expectations for Thursday and have loved our last four times together with the exception of her worrying that I want to be her girlfriend after the ballet. I don’t want a girlfriend/partner.

I tell everyone the same thing. I don’t want to live with anyone, I don’t want a marriage, and I never want financial entanglements. I don’t have the energy that is required in exclusive love relationships. I also have come to a decision that like your friends, you can have girlfriends that you like to do different things with: go to dog parks, potlucks, adventures, dress-up dates, hikes, etc. I really don’t even have enough experience yet to know all the possibilities. I will tell you that after I broke up with my ex who is likely dying that I went straight into another partnership and was convinced of a “one.” That is nauseating bullshit. I’m not everything for anyone and why would there be for me?

I’m not afraid of commitment. I could be with two or three different women and those could be the ones who I see. I do think that when sex occurs that I’ll go back to therapy. The climber was super relieved that I’ve had a date since she belayed me and that I had asked out another woman who said life was hectic right now. I’m not sure what she was thinking, but I don’t want to talk about other women with women and she said that she wants to hear that stuff. I won’t give details unless I’m asked though, because I don’t want repeats of what I had in 2010 listening to a woman bitch about another woman she is intimate with, because that doesn’t work for me. Again, when things progress physically, I will get a new therapist.

Seasonal Anger

I process so slowly. It takes me forever to understand 1) impact and 2) what has truly gone on. I had met my ex-wife through a friend. Saying that I was obsessed with her by looking at her profile is more accurate, actually.

I spent about 18-months being stoned. I had a ton of issues turning 30, so I told a friend that I needed to get high. He said, “You won’t get high the first time that you smoke.” So, I told him that I was starting tonight–at 29, and I did. I got high with my Dad at my 30th birthday party, and it was the first time that I got stoned; although, I’d smoked probably a dozen times. Then, I didn’t do it much any longer.

When I was about 34, I was high for 18-months after I got home from work, and my son with his Dad. Then I had a terrible incident at a conference and didn’t smoke again. In this incident, I took one hit too many and had to crawl into one of the bathtubs. When the dominoes would hit the table in the front of the condo where we were staying, I felt like they were hitting me. I was awful. I don’t smoke or use. It’s legal now, as are some psychedelics. At times, I drink a lot of beer, and I do like Red Zin, but I don’t do any drugs–pot because of paranoia, and mushrooms because there is something that triggers my risk averse nature when I ponder that currently. Right place, right time, maybe.

Anyway, I saw a picture of my ex-wife while I was stoned. While high, I was with my friend whose sister with whom I’d gone to high school. We would open up Facebook and take turns logging in. The game is “Gay or Straight?” You play it stoned. She scrolled through my ex-wife’s profile.

“Straight.”

“Nope.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Her? This picture? Nice, hot. Are you fucking with me?”

“I am not.”

“When do I meet her?”

“You don’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“She has stayed where we went to college. She has a whole community. She won’t ever leave the Northwest.”

“When does she visit?”

“Rarely. It’s been years. Honestly, no one hears from her much. We were high school best friends and college roommates.”

“I don’t care. When she does visit, I’ll meet her. We’ll date.”

*sigh / eye rolls / puff*

2012 – 37-years-old

She’s laying on a couch in a sun dress and gets up to meet me at her other best friend’s house. She had moved home five-months earlier. She smiles, sits up, walks toward me and shakes my hand. Beautiful: red hair, subtle make-up (it’s afternoon) and gray-blue eyes. I leave after an hour having gotten kicked out before ensuring that my friend will be able to get a ride back to her apartment because I drove.

We maintain an awkward friendship. She has a girlfriend. She always has a girlfriend. We eat some meals together, play cards, hang out with her girlfriend, and other times her mother and her mother’s boyfriend. She eats quiche at my house; she plays with my son. I hug hello and goodbye and keep my abdomen away from hers for a friendly hug, but I still embrace her tightly. Sometimes, I blush and other times my heart races a little, but with a girl like her, you don’t do anything weird. They break up and she dates, and I start dating the artist.

Right before I meet the artist, I go to my ex-mother-in-law’s house and have dinner there, and my ex-wife is crying because she is getting back with a woman who is polyamorous, in love with her ex, and likes to go to clubs to pick up multiple women, and gets upset that my ex-wife isn’t down for sex with women that they pick up and don’t know. She is crying and crying. I eat my salad, give her a hug, say goodbye to her mother and her mother’s boyfriend. The next weekend, I go to a wedding in a khaki skort, tank top that is at least embroidered, and black sandals with a heel. My friend says, “Why are you dressed casual?” This incredibly attractive brown haired woman with hazel eyes is kinda leering around my friend and I and she says, “Introduce me.” I hear it. My friend does. Later in the night, I hear my friend (she’s from Brooklyn) say “Don’t you think that I would have told you that I started dating a woman?!?!?!?” So, the artist pulls me out to dance and dances with me and on me. She can’t lead though, so it’s pretty awkward. She and I date for a couple of months, but don’t have sex. She is imbalanced and has pretty significant mental illness; although, she is gorgeous. She painted two pictures for me for my 39th birthday and they hang in my bathroom. Now, she lives in the mountains and is a mayor.

I start emailing with my ex-wife. We make plans over the course of a week and half through email. We were making dinner in her apartment that she called the treehouse. It had a separate entrance and was a large loft type of residence attached to a large house west of our city. We cook and we make out for two-hours. I go home soaring with emotion and arousal. I don’t want to have sex with her. I want to date her.

She has other plans. She wants to come down in two-days and do just what I think is too soon. I buckle. It was really good. She moves in with me three-months after that. We marry 7-months later. We never learn to resolve conflict. We knew each other ten-years, we were together for nine, and married for eight. I am pissed.

I’m angry about all the time that she would tell me that I get remote and blame me for absolutely everything in terms of our conflict. I talked to my best friend on Friday night and she said, “You worked and worked and worked on that–tirelessly. I think that you did absolutely everything that you could.” Even if that’s not true, I don’t miss all the imbalance. Move in with your Mom, move in with your sister, buy another residence, adopt more pets. Have 17 different jobs over the course of 10-years. Talk about conflicts at work over and over and over, freeze out your sister, fly home suddenly after “not feeling supported by” your Mom.

This June, I loved it when she finally moved out for good and we had a real fight. Not one in which I get quiet–I’m terrified by my temper–but one in which I told her how bizarre it was that she brought a man into our house (She has her own residence, but has a tenant.) and watched movies with him in the spare bedroom. “He didn’t touch your things.” “What? It’s my house!” “It’s mine too!” She never contributed to this mortgage, and has had her own since October of 2020; however, she made us refi together in 2014 which reduced the interest rate on this house and took 2-years off the mortgage. My ex-wife is really good with money and has good math and business sense. She could not see how disrespectful it was to have a date where my son and I sleep, and that I pay for, instead of going to coffee, a movie or a park with a man you met on the Internet. Talk about not seeing your part! That gelled it for me. I’ll never speak to her again. And, I am angry. Probably hurt too, and wonder if she ever truly loved me or if she was just doing what she knew her mother wanted her to, and liked the first couple years of really hot sex.

  1. I like a little bit of danger
  2. I like women who are more social than I am
  3. I want to have consistency
  4. I want to make a plan, and stick to that plan
  5. I want contact with a purpose
  6. In conflict, I want to take a break, come back and be accountable for things that I can change
  7. I want to grow
  8. I want to see what it’s like to be in love with at least two people concurrently

The Ballet with the Climber

She came into my house having been running a few minutes late. After a bit, we embraced, and I can’t tell you how great that it felt for me to have her arms around me again. She titled her head and kissed me. We kissed. She had on sparkly heels, ear rings, a matching necklace and a tight purple dress. I just can’t get over her body. And when she wears a dress that’s fitted at the waist it’s a singular experience to be able to walk behind her and watch her glide.

I had jacked myself all up with nerves given the long period in between when we’d seen and touched each other. I was so nervous, a little jumpy, and then after we were on the train having taken my car to the Park N Ride, I relaxed and eased in. She had told me that she was curious about my nerves. I told her that I process slow. It’s true. I retold her and with all the detail when I watched her climb, fix leads, and rappel and she belayed me up 20-feet. She said is that when your son said that “You’re a Rock Star? That’s good. A Rock Star. I think it’s a compliment.” After some laughter and cuddling, I was back to that ease that I have with her.

We were off to the side but only about 12 rows back in the Orchestra. It’s some of the best seats that I’ve ever had. We touched and held each other. Because she has her own dance company and teaches, it was consuming to watch it with her. I’ve seen it probably 8-times actually, but I got so much out of it not only given our seats, but watching detail given my picking up on her energy when we touched or followed the same gaze toward the stage.

After intermission, she kissed me in my seat. She said, “Is that ok here?” It had turned me on a little bit, so I said, “Yes, of course.” She kissed me again. When the lights dimmed for the second act, I kissed her. We settled back in to watch it. The performance was great.

A brass band was playing outside and we swayed together a little and then after 5 songs she took me to the busy sidewalk and danced with me. I told her that it wasn’t our gazebo. Her boldness combined with sensuality gets me whole body and mind. We walked back to the train and kissed. She asked me again and I told her that I’ve had partners who wouldn’t even hold my hand. I think that my ex who is dying would kiss me occasionally, but it was when she was really drunk, so I hated it because it was embarrassing. My ex wife would hold my hand only every once in awhile and then would get worried that people were looking at us. The climber could care less.

We snuggled and talked on the train. I asked her if this was a date, and she said, “I think that this is actually a date.” When we got up to the surface parking she thanked me for suggesting the train and said it was great to talk and cuddle. I opened her door for her and shut it gently and said, “I’m closing your door because this IS a date.” When I got into my garage, I said, “Can you please come in?” and I slowly unbuttoned her wool overcoat and hung it in my hall closet. We got into my bed and she gave me a lot of shit for the decorative pillows. I don’t like taking all that stuff off and on either and can’t wait to get new bedding actually. We made out and I said, “I don’t care that you have on a dress, but I’m taking mine off because it’s uncomfortable.” Hers clung to her body and was fitted at the waist. Mine was sleeveless and a straight cut with a high collar and back, and was too constricting. She told me that she hadn’t packed for her weekend and we couldn’t do 3:30 again, and I agreed. We made out and she told me that I have the softest skin.

I think that she’s worried that I want something from her that she doesn’t want to give. I told her definitively that I don’t want to remarry and I don’t want to live with anyone. I told her, “_____, I don’t expect something exclusive. There’s something so immediate about being with you, and I’m so cautious and careful (Frankly, I can be risk aversive, but I didn’t say that.) that it’s so good for me to do things with you that I would never do normally as you open up possibilities for me.” There is this tenderness with us too wherein we lay so quietly and touch or just gently hold each other. I think that she calls this quality “sweet,” and it is. I just want to see her monthly when I can, and I want us to concentrate on those plans that we have. And when it works, I want more plans.

I’m still going to prowl. I will probably go back to the group with the neuroscientist who shot me down and the other woman who went to the dog park with me before she had a health thing. I’m not swiping. I want to meet women organically and connect when it makes sense. Until my next adventure, I’ll have my intrusive thoughts about the climber.

Chill

My best friend from work who I worked for 2001 through 2005 told me “Good luck today” via text and I texted back “Calm and Cool.” We rolled in roughly the same time and I beelined to my office and sat there for fifteen minutes going through 82 emails when the intercom with our Boss’ voice said “Meeting at 8:10.” I strolled in at 8:09 and they were already meeting. After a pause a colleague said, “Did you cut your hair? It looks great.” She swiveled around in her chair at the Conference Table and I looked straight ahead at our boss after saying thank you to the colleague. I could feel her looking at me. I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t notice her clean, long, blond hair and the way she had it tied back with the purple highlights showing when I strolled in at 8:09. When the meeting ended, I was the first one out the door. 10-minutes later she came into the office with my office mate and they were catching up. I had materials that were delivered to this building that I had to put in my car, so I ducked out. My other workmate who has the adjacent office was kinda leering into the office so I said, “Be right back” to him, and put the materials in my car and came back to the office and she was gone as was my office mate.

Around 8:45 she was going into her office wherein I was doing my morning routine of trips to rid myself of coffee that I really need to work and met her gaze in the hallway. I said, “Hi,” and she gave me the best, large smile and said, “Hello.” She had faded makeup on her eyes and looked super hot. I’m sure that I smiled large back at her.

At 9:30, she came into the large room at the front of my office that I share and was talking to our colleague and then she came in. She sat down and when I turned, our legs were really close together like they were on Halloween. We talked and her vacation wasn’t great. Mine really was. I said, “You should have pinged me!” She said, “You could have… All my housemates were sick all at different times, and I didn’t want to expose anyone.” The beginning of her sentence didn’t elude me. Yay. I asked her if we could go to one of those smashing places or throwing axes and she said that she was down. My officemate came in shortly after that. She took her leave.

I eat lunch with a colleague most Mondays, and did so today, and when I got back to my desk I had two texts. They were from her! “Lunch?” Several minutes later, “Want to get pizza?’ DAMMIT. I usually try to be a little screen free here and there. I texted an apology and later that I was sorry to miss an opportunity to connect. After work was over, I walked down the hall and she was in her office. She asked if I wanted to go to the ballet and that made me so happy because I had asked her on the 11th if she’d go to play, ballet, or symphony with me sometime as I had a nice cocktail dress. Her commuting partner came in shortly afterward, so I texted her tonight. Stay tuned, ya’ll.

It’s good to 1) not be weird, 2) avoid reading into anybody’s behavior, and 3) to be chill after you’ve had little contact.

Waiting or Dying

I am not sure why it’s fucking me up so bad that my ex is dying or simply awaiting a transplant, but it is. (I averaged 111 bowling today. I can’t live with myself.) I am reading through our relationship. Cliff notes: meet in a bar, have a fun summer, the main other girl she’s fucking says that they have to be girlfriends, I don’t need friends, I bounce, she texts me around the New Year of ’10, we have a romantic rekindling that wasn’t just sex, and then by the end of the month she eventually starts seeing her previous girlfriend and I concurrently again, I start to actually have feelings, and then she moves to the southeast. Here was that bullshit with circumstances that I don’t ever want to repeat:

She came over Wednesday night, but I had seen her every night the previous weekend, and none of the days were all that good–some were plain awful.  The only night that we actually had plans were Friday, and she had tried to cancel those.  Saturday, I ran into her by chance–if you are one who believes in coincidences, which I don’t–and she invited me out for a drink on Sunday afternoon.

Anyway, a friend of mine had an extra to a concert Saturday because her cousin couldn’t get a sitter. She and I had a date the night before, which she had tried to cancel late Monday night under the guise of having seen me once by chance, and when I should point out that she flatly refused to go home with me or let me caravan to her place for a few only to wind up texting me.  I know that I wrote about that.  She had also seen me for her birthday, because she wanted to spend her birthday with me. I’m not into trade-ins.  EG. “I’ve seen you, so we don’t have to follow through on plans we’ve had for six-weeks.”  I would let her out of them. She wouldn’t text back, so I told my BFF from out-of-state if she let them fall through, I wouldn’t make plans with her again.  My BFF said, “It will be really good for you when she is finally gone.”  She’s right–it’s toxic.

Not wanting to make friction, I texted her that I was going to be at the concert because a friend of mine, who she met the night that she refused to go home with me (Again, only to text me, “You can’t come over?” a couple of hours later.), as she had a extra ticket. I knew that she’d be there with the other girl from summer.  This was the one with whom she’d ended her relationship with so that she could sleep with me again.  I did not contact her for four months, and she texted me when the New Year began.  You’ll maybe remember that when we reconnected, she moved my hair off my neck and whispered in my ear, “I’ve missed you so much.  I never stopped thinking about you for four months.”   All of that may be true, but she gets something out of companionship with this girl too.  And it is weird to me, because she describes her as “selfish, a non-reciprocator, a bad kisser, and a bitch.” WTF, does she say about me, and to her possibly?  I’ll get to that too.

Friday had good and bad parts last weekend.  I liked it when she held me in the restaurant.  I liked it when she acknowledged how consistent I am and that hold her to her word.  Sex sucked.  If she wants us to be FBs sex should be phenomenal.  (It was on Wednesday night, and I’ll get to that too.)  I knew that it sucked because she was pissed that I told her that she needed to follow through on our plans, and I also knew that she’d be with the other woman at the concert.  Her energy changes when she sees her, and it is not for the better.

Saturday I texted her that I would be at the concert.  Then, of course, our tickets were a mere 10 rows and 3 seats apart.  She was above me with her ex-girlfriend that she has been sleeping with again since the end of January.  I knew that I’d see her; although, she said that we would “have to plan it.”  It’s good that she thinks that she has psychic abilities, but I just knew that our seats were too close together. Walking up the enormous flights of stairs, I saw her at one of the cabanas in line for a drink, so I hit her shoulder and walked on.  We were texting back and forth, and she had her phone out.  She had the audacity to say, “You should go. It is going to be awesome.”  I texted her, “I’m not worried.”  Which I was not, but that didn’t change just because I knew that I would see her and didn’t want any drama.  That’s not me.  So, a few more texts were exchanged and I said, “BTW, that was me who hit you.”  And she said, “I know, but you move fast.”  I said, “Are you not glad?  I’m not into drama and am sure that you’d like to avoid it too.”

Then there she was.  I was in line with my buddy and some of her friends, and there was my girl.  She hugged us both.  Then in a bit, my very good friends (They are partners of five-years.) were there too. She knows one of them personally because one night in January, she invited us both over for a drink.  Which later freaked her out.  That girl’s partner was looking at my girl like, “Who the fuck are you?”  Her partner saw it and said, “_____ , this is _______ !”  And then she regained her composure.  In fact, I was impressed with her, because my girl has not asked if she liked her.  She doesn’t.  She told me, “Not what I expected.  She is skinny and butch.”  Oh well.  She’s not my girlfriend anyway.  Fine we all met.  Let’s be on our ways.  Nope.

I got back in line with my friend.  My girl went to the of the line.  I said, “Come up here.” And when I finally got her to, I said, “Give me your ID.”  She got all weird and started handing me a $20.  I told her to put her money away, and she refused a bit, and then said, “Well, just get a well drink then.”  I told her that was bullshit and I could get her Grey Goose.  Weirdo.  It gets weirder. She touched my ass!  If she pulled that shit with me with the other girl when we were out on a date, I’d probably not talk to her again.  My buddy and I went to a table, and then she joined us.  We talked together, and drank.  Then the next act had been playing for some time and my friend mentioned it.  She said that she was going back in, and my girl said that she wanted to see this guy too.  Then she actually caressed my ass!  Wow!  She gave me hug and went back to her seat.  After she had stopped texting me, I thought, “You are a fucking chump! She is up there talking shit about you with the other girl, just like she does about her with you.”

So, on Sunday when she invited me out for a drink on a patio, I was lucky enough for my son’s Dad to say, “Yes” to coming over to babysit. I walked across a busy street in a tank, Birks, and jeans, and a guy in a Range Rover waved me across. I couldn’t see her; although, she said that she had a table outside.  I went in, and came out to the patio and kept looking and couldn’t see her, and was starting to get really pissed. Finally, I saw her, and she didn’t stand up or give me a hug.  Steve McQueen.  Fuck You. Talking, talking, talking.  “I liked the way that you stopped traffic.”  I said, “No, he was just cool, and waved me across. In a cocktail dress and heels maybe.”  The latter is true.  That is when straight guys typically get very aggressive and won’t leave me alone. More talking, and talking, and bullshit small talk.  I was furious by then.

Finally, I get my chance, “So, do you talk shit about me to ________ ? Do you tell her that I’m selfish and a bitch?”  I told her everything that was on my mind Saturday and she was furious.  I was so lucky that we were in a public place.  I’ll get to that too. After awhile she convinced me that the other girl doesn’t even know my name, and that she doesn’t think that I’m a bitch, etc.  I’m not.  But, I don’t want to be sleeping with someone who talks shit about me either.  After a lot of heated discussion, we agreed to let it go–forever.  I told her that I believed that she doesn’t talk about me negatively to her, and she said that she believed that I believed her at her word.  We hugged.  I gave her a kiss and we parted.

She sent me a text an hour and a half later which said, “I didn’t realize that you had your son back and it would be work to come meet me. Thanks for doing so.”  I didn’t respond and talked to my BFF out of state, and said, “Right now, I’m done.  I don’t care if I see her this week.”  She reiterated that she just needs to move, and I need to move on.

I did see her Wednesday, and it was obvious that she had not let it go. She actually went off on me. She accused me of taking out my anger on her, not trusting her, and told me that I don’t mean shit to her and that I expect something long-term.  Nah, her shit, and I’m not going to take it on.  So, she upped the ante and started to leave.  That did upset me for a variety of reasons.  One, I wanted some good intimacy, two, I had done nothing wrong, and three, she drank an entire bottle of wine. She said that my being upset was because I have “expectations” of her now and this is not what she wants or why we are together.  I got her calmed down, and told her, “Let’s just have fun then.”

When she finally was better, and had yelled at me enough, and also looked at me like she hated me enough, we finally undressed. She started apologizing.  I said, “Let’s not do that again.”  She said a bit later, “Thanks for putting up with me.”  Then she blamed it on PMS.  It was more than that though, because I called her on her bullshit, the moon was full, and she wants to call all the shots. O.K., I’m cool with that, but be consistent.  It was the best sex that we’ve had since August.  It’s called make-up sex, is it not?  I think that I want that to be my last memory of her here in this state.

Again, I am a list maker:

  1. Don’t fuck someone and ask or listen to other stories about who they are fucking too
  2. Don’t drink heavily with someone who you’re fucking; if that woman gets one drink over the line, go home no matter what
  3. Make very concrete plans with someone before you go to the date and keep those plans consistent
  4. If someone you’re on a date who starts getting angry, have a line. The line could be, “This isn’t fun or easy right now. Let’s stop hanging out until it can be fun and easy again.”
  5. Don’t have another date with some woman who is angry, pissy, or raises her voice.
  6. Don’t think or dwell on what any woman you’re dating is doing when you’re not seeing her or have plans with her
  7. Avoid messes. Be honest.
  8. If a woman who you’re dating tells you that she’s going exclusive with someone else, delete her number and block her after saying your parting words.

Reflections

I like my cousin’s fiancĂ©. Sure he makes fun of people, has lots of tools, and guns, but he loves her, and they’re actually good together. Before I was with the CEO, she had been dating him around a year, I think. She is what you might call a serial monogamist, which I guess is ok to say because “Ally McBeal” was a bunch of straight girls in NY, right? After 10 or 11 years, why not get married, right?

I’m not. I just read about when my best friend from work was here and we were climbing mountains and partying hard. She was dancing with this one girl at our club, and the girl’s best friend started dancing with me and then she kissed me. Well, if you kiss me, for some reason, I want to get more aggressive. I had pushed her up against a cattle tank full of beers eventually. We went on a legitimate date a few weeks later. After sushi and a long walk, I went to where she was parked and leaned in and she said, “We’ll have plenty of other chances.” I never kissed her again. Hmm…

I think I’m back in that cattle tank stage. My problem has been that I don’t say no to exclusive. Nancy Reagan would have a stern talkin’ to me. I can come out here as someone who says, “No.”

People, especially those who I have known who are genetically women, are super complex. I want to get to know lots of people on individual dates. It sucks a little to be introverted, because I really struggle with anxiety in groups. I get quiet, and then recently one of my Bosses called me “exclusive.” Or I crack lots of jokes due to tension. I am very funny, so that is probably ok, but if it’s noisy I can’t do that, and then I’m too direct due to discomfort.

Therefore, lots of different women in 1-1 settings.

No swiping. Do Gen X-ers like to swipe? Also, because I only select women-seeking-women, I’ll see women who I know. Small pond. Also, I find it distasteful for some reason to swipe a person away based on something static like a picture. Case in point is that my ex-wife is a real redhead and has blond eyebrows so some pictures are not great due to lighting. She is one of the most striking women in person that people have ever seen. I can’t count the number of people who have said, “She is so beautiful.” Really. Truly. Additionally, it’s fake like social media is. I have maybe taken three pictures of my son being an asshole or raging, but I haven’t posted them! I’ve sent them to a few people. Are folks with profiles on dating sites going to post themselves half a bottle of vodka into Thanksgiving? Not likely. Not probable. Finally, my experiences on Chemistry and OK, Cupid yielded the cowgirl (two weekends–lesbian one night stand) and the flute player (gamey / hot and cold). When I say that to friends, they say, “Sure that was before 2010! It’s changed so much.” I’m not arguing, but I have three reasons for my hard pass.

I’m going bowling this afternoon. I am going to beat one of my Bosses. He beat me at pool about two-weeks ago, so I need to beat him. If I can’t we’re going to the bar very soon and I will beat him at 301. His ex-girlfriend and her boyfriend are bowling with us. I have to put my road bike in the back of my SUV now, and go over to the place that rebuilt my engine brackets. My oil light is coming on and it’s also idling like shit sometimes in the cold because the box over the catalytic converter is shaking to hell. The alley is close, so I can combo walk / bike there.

I met my goal. This week mostly off from work was neither sad or trying. I expressed emotion, connected so much with my cousin and her kids, and went out to dinner for diner food with my son last night. Now, bring on the cattle tanks.

Prowl

I cut off a ton of hair. I’m going to leave it round brushed today only, and then will leave it wavy except when I straighten it like the hairdresser did. Before mine turned gray, it was really curly. And it’s always been thick. The texture has changed so much that it’s kinda wavy now. The new look involves a significant and drastic a line, pretty short and the back is tapered and a little shaved. Next time, I’m shaving it really close at the bottom and tapering it more in the back. I think that the hairdresser started more subtle because it was a significant change. I’ve had an a line since August and had cut it much shorter than the way that I wore it when my ex-wife trimmed and cut it for me, but this cut is new and very short. I have magenta highlights too so the look is darker now and less gray. Tonight a friend of mine and I are going to prowl.

She used to be really hot. She still has beautiful eyes, but she is really out of shape. It’s ok though because if we got physical our 20-year friendship would be ruined. She’s bi and just got rid of her man who she affectionately calls Biscuit. She said that he doesn’t even ask her about her day. He’s 17-years younger than her, which made me feel good about my 11-year and some change age difference with my current semi-love interest.

I want to get some phone numbers tonight. That’s the goal. I want to start going out on a date every Thursday night and a weekend night when I can.

I have never done that–gone on lots and lots of dates.

I have picked up a girl at the bar because I wanted to get laid. That’s chronicled in another blog. It went like this, “If she’s tall, hot and has light eyes, she’s going home with me.”

“Good luck with that!”

Walk in. Three-minutes later meet her gaze, we both smile, and I wink at my friend who said it wouldn’t happen.

Talk to her all night. Had a snatch blocker and didn’t sweat it, because she said, “Can I legitimately get your number?”

I took her to the train station and we made out and then I said, “Do you have to go home?’

“I can do something else.”

“Like come home with me?”

The next day I took her to another train station and she said, “You have my number.”

“Pshaw, you have mine!”

She texted a week and a half later, “Do you like wine?”

Again, white wine is gross, but we carried on through September. I choked down Chardonnay. Then one of the other girls who she was sleeping with made her go exclusive. She said that we should be friends. I said that I have enough friends.

She texted me NYE and said that her situation changed. I saw her on January 1st or 2nd and she told me how much she’d missed me. I bookended with her and the other woman until she moved and then we did distance for almost 2-years. She is either dying now or waiting for a transplant. She was a fucking scary drunk. Black out. Start bar fights. Was physical with me once and I broke up with her two-weeks after I flew home. I overpowered her so she only left a little bruise on the base of my neck. She is a completely different person when she is tipsy. When she is drunk, she’s terrifying. Now, she may die.

I’m reading, “Opening Up” by Pennebaker (1990). It was written in what was termed “The Decade of the Brain.” Now with current research and understanding of neurosequential processing, it’s more of a read into healthy emotional expression done through quasi-experimental designs, but it’s qualitative, and I love Brown’s work, so I’m enjoying this book and it’s an easy read. Promise this isn’t a non sequitur given that the chapter that I read yesterday when waiting for my hair appointment was called, “Inhibition as a Health Threat.” Writing about what I learned through difficult relationships and also letting down my guard is healthy.

Yep. So, it’s not if she’s tall, has light eyes and hot that she’s going home with me, but it is that if she fits that description we’re going to chat. I would love a number. I would love several. I would like a date a week from tomorrow too!

I wrote this the last day of 2012

I want to focus on what I want and what I’m looking for, but will start with a preface that it doesn’t mean that it’s not in my current relationship.  We are just new…  Eight-days shy of 7-months and both equally independent and busy.  I’d rather reflect on I want and as everyone seems to say these days, “Put it out into the universe,” which I think comes from that somewhat Eastern movement on the law of attraction and what one is interested in for focus. So, at least for today, I will blog about what I value.

  • That’s stupid.  Be what you want.  You’ll attract people who you want to spend time with, and don’t count dates.  There could be shitty dates and exciting dates.  I’m glad that I’ve not seen or heard from the CEO in YEARS.  Who cares that I spent 7-months exclusively dating her?  Shame on me for trying to force a long-term relationship with someone so mean.

I love being outside and feeling the sun on my skin.  I love the way that water sounds when it is unsettled either from the tide or when it is disturbed by a motor and laps against an embankment.  I also like the noise water makes when it is rushing when the table in a river is up. Being on top of a mountain and feeling the wind cover your body while you look literally at the world makes you feel small and like you don’t really have a single problem.  When you come down and laugh full of natural endocannabinoids from your summit and have a burger and a beer, you have never felt so happy. Snowshoeing up to a glacier lake and working your legs give me a whole feeling too, and again, I love afterward to share a meal with someone who I love and can laugh with about anything.

  • Yep, those things are still very, very good.  I have gaiters now too and know how to self-arrest with an ice axe, so I should bundle up and go soon.  Not solo though.  That’s stupid.  Love is expansive.  I love lots of people.

I love to cook when I come home, and if my day has been awful, I also open a beer and drink while I prepare a meal.  I love to throw dinner parties and hear my friends laughing in my kitchen and enjoy pieces of their conversations. Music is my soundtrack and I break out into song with good friends or make references to song lyrics all the time.  I want to get back into practicing guitar and can’t wait until my son picks up an instrument!  He is dancing now, and although I can’t, I love to watch him dance because his energy takes on a life of its own and he is expressing himself.  In a woman, I find dancing sensual and appealing because you can see things in her that you didn’t see before, and I love novelty.

  • Still love to cook.  Don’t have the need for a large dinner party, but my birthday party when I turned 48 was fun with my neighbors, my old work husband and his wife and my son.  I do need to practice guitar.  Teenagers don’t do anything.  At least he is dating a cheerleader now, so maybe he’ll dance again.  Been thinking about taking some dance lessons, actually.  I may do that because the cross country ski classes are all full this fall and winter!

Adventure is critical for me, and it can be simple adventures like the good memory that I have holding hands crunching through the snow and then naked hot tubing under the stars–it’s like a pleasant surprise to have romantic things like that unfold and is the ultimate expression of one’s chemistry with another person.   I love to travel and see new places.  I love meals that are well prepared and looking at art.  It would be really cool to see a new city and rent a bike and race around on it to discover tons of it quickly and then be able go back on foot holding a woman’s hand and feel the air on our faces while we look over the scenery that we took in quickly and now want to take in more fully, and at a slower rate.  It could be a preview from the bike with a return on foot because walking and hiking are some things that I also value.

  • I can add to that walking on the beach and getting frisky.  That was fun too.  I went all over Mount Desert Island in June on a rented bike and it was phenomenal.  Gonna do that next June around the whole rim at Crater Lake, and I want to solo camp on Wizard Island.

I taught myself how to ride a bike when I was eight, and I still feel youthful when I ride my pos Mt Bike down the street, trails or on a singletrack. I can race it as hard as I want or just glide down hills.  I love the wind rushing on my face and going for hours.  I feel strong and alive when I watch the clouds and the afternoon wane on while I’m on my bike.

  • I bike to work everyday except for Mondays.  I have to drive on Mondays.  I have a police bike now and a road bike.  I donated that POS.  I LOVE cycling.

Quality of light is important for me too.  The moon casts a beautiful sheen across lakes, and the angle of the sun on a woman’s face at different times of day shows her beauty outdoors.  Seems that I value being outside, using my body, cooking and eating, and connecting and laughing–all of these things are made better if you share them with a beautiful woman.  I think that I do attract these things, so I must be lucky.

  • Still have fortuitous circumstances unfold in the dark. The climber held me on a climber under moonlight when I told her that my ex-partner is either dying or waiting for a transplant and that my son and I will have to motor to NC at some point because of that.

When I think of my son, I value that he is thriving, feeling well, and learning a lot.  Love of nature, being well and whole, and learning as much as he can from mentors should be his focus until he is ready to leave our house.  When one is balanced, he can give unto others, which is probably the only “Christian” value that makes sense to me.  In addition to being glad that he is enjoying sports, getting excellent grades in music, I am most grateful that he is regarded as the most kind and appreciative of diversity by his current teacher.  I hope that if I am lucky enough to add children to our family with a partner, that this virtual child is able to feel well, be outside, learn and truly share.

  • I don’t want any more children.  I hope that my son will be ok when he’s 25.  I drug test him weekly–it was hot today–and he gets a flip phone going as soon as the GPS that he has to carry that I’ll be subscribing to as a service is here and working.  Children are an active or psychic burden until they have a working brain.

I’m thinking that these desires and wants are what I value most, and my partner could make it more powerful.  When I imagine this partner, I am outside with her and we are having one night away.  It wouldn’t have to occur much, but I would value it when it did. She and I could maybe have a meal on a deck near Clear Creek in Buena Vista and have to sit very close together so that we would be able to hear each other and then we could hold hands while the sun sets. She’d make me laugh a lot and I would be taken in completely by her eyes.  We could leave the doors to the deck open so when we made love you could hear that deafening roar of the water in the bg.  That kind of connection while in nature is important to me and my meaning, as is going back to our kids and enjoying them after we had a night away like this one, because I think that meaning too, comes from raising a family together and meeting the challenges of parenting together as a concerted team.

  • I don’t want a partner.  I don’t want financial entanglements.  I am a complete sucker for green, hazel and blue eyes.  I love to laugh and will look forward to some fun sex when the time is right.  I don’t want to raise my son with anyone.  I want him to stabilize and get his act together.  My parents were not a concerted team, and I can’t think of an example of that with any of my friends.  I’m lucky that mine will be out of the house in July of 2024.  Then I can re-read this entry and see what’s shifted.  Love of parts of Colorado will never shift.

Keeping some of it

I love having access to 14-years of my writing. Yay. I read about that orgy that a friend of mine hosted at my house. What a sentence. Wow. I was 34 maybe? She was pretty butch and had weird style. I can’t remember what state she was from–no one is from here–although I remember that she was a software engineer. She was smart, but not attractive. She wore an Indiana Jones Panama hat to my party that altered into an orgy because she also brought a bull whip. Her breasts were gorgeous though. Like a magazine. I’m a whole package person though and don’t like chunky, beefy, fat or out of shape for a hook-up or gf. I wouldn’t want an orgy at my house anymore. Also, I don’t think that I’m poly to the degree wherein if I was sleeping with one woman, I would be able to easily watch her kiss other women or men at a party. I think that when I was in college, cast parties would begin with body shots and then become group sex. I left with my college gf before that stage of the morning, but I’m almost positive that is what that crew engaged in. I actually think it’s about management. Hahahaha. Seriously, I tend to have trouble talking in a group unless I’m facilitating group counseling. I like depth in conversation and need to tease more information out and it’s less deep when you’re navigating group contributions to conversation. I HATE group lunches, baby or bridal showers, etc. Group sex would be that way too. Difficult to include everyone. Ha. Honestly, it’s like a connection and focus thing for me. Not that I don’t think that would be a good thing for other people though.

I slept in my bed with the software engineer after the orgy. I know that we cuddled a bit. I wore pjs and she was nude. I made it clear that I didn’t want any sex. I had kissed her breasts during the orgy and she referenced it and I said, “You have perfect breasts, and I still don’t want to have sex with you.” End of story. I think now that it would be difficult for me to sleep with someone actually. Since my son has revved up terrible / dangerous behavior, I am a light sleeper. I used to sleep like a rock. Also, my ex wife was a hideous sleeper–nightmares, waking nightmares, insomnia, bouts of manic episodes with needing to cut or dye her hair for hours in the middle of night or early morning–so I’m sure that has effected my sleep rhythms also. I don’t know what time I’d have to go to bed to be able to sleep a 6-hour stretch next to a woman and worry that I’d wake up at 5 or 6 anyway. I’ve simply worked too many years now. I wake up in the morning.

So, I want to keep dating. I don’t want to do wild group things that involve intimacy. I don’t want a relationship that is exclusive.

The sex thing. If you’re disconnected from someone who you used to be in love with, it takes a toll. She would offer to top. Randomly too. Like use the bathroom in our bedroom right before I was turning in because I work (She stopped working.) and then leave for the spare room making her exit with a quick offer. I was always like, “WTF?” I like to talk and connect and then have sex. That has even gone for me when I’ve done lesbian one night stands. Do you know what those are? You bring someone home from the bar, or you have a girl that you met on the Internet come to your house and share a bed and you have some sex. Sometimes several hours. So, you do that again once or twice. I talked first with those girls. At least a little. My previous partner who is incidentally dying or waiting for a transplant would sometimes come over while I was cooking, open a bottle of Chardonnay (Scratch that off the list for anything that I would keep. Fucking gross. Who the fuck actually drinks white wine by choice?), give me a kiss and then say, “Want some dessert and then we can eat dinner?” That was cute, and we still talked. With sex, I’ll need some kind of interaction connection to be frisky.

I love lists:

  1. Nothing that I find voyeuristic or is group oriented for intimacy
  2. Fit women who take care of their bodies
  3. Work on my sleep hygiene
  4. Date lots of women
  5. Connect and then have sex
  6. Never stoop to drinking any white wine

It’s 4 am I must be processing

I woke up incredibly early today. I just got my emails for students who I supervise done–it’s 21 of them–and also wrote a few to my students in a class that I always teach every fall whom I won’t see again after the end of the month. I’ll miss this group. They’re cool. The other 21 will be around until the end of April, and then I have some time off from teaching and supervision. In terms of the latter, I don’t know when that will happen again.

My Mom died a year ago in two-weeks. Heavy as shit. It marked the end of my family of origin. I had lost my brother as an adolescent and that still is complete shit. Yesterday, I had group therapy and talked about my Mom.

My Dad died of COVID in April of 2020 and it was a blessing with the exception of the impact that its had on my son. I had a complicated relationship with my Dad until I did 5-years of analysis and then I tabled all my stuff, didn’t let it effect our interactions, and when he was being intense or strange, I just noted it, sometimes wrote about it (here), and other times said, “I’m heading out.” He sometimes would apologize after I left. I visited him every week alongside my mother when he finally moved out and into the same facility where my Mom was for 3-years, but he didn’t last because he wanted to die. Literally. He asked his doctor to kill him actually. Although we’re a right to death state, it’s not that simple, and you have to be terminal. He had dementia and significant impacts to his working memory so he couldn’t read anymore. He couldn’t even spit anymore. I tried to sample his DNA twice and he couldn’t coordinate it to fill the little tube. I did that because that was something that he was actually interested in. Mostly for about 2-years at home and in the home he said, “I have to go to the bathroom. I didn’t sleep last night.” This man was brilliant. What a way to spend your last few years.

My ex-wife didn’t really know either of them. They stopped being able to interact really probably around 2012. Ironically, what impacted them was that they stopped taking care of my son in 2009 for the most part, and then they declined. My Dad’s best friend moved to the South and they didn’t do much anymore. I was so busy with my kid and doctorate that I didn’t do much with them except cook them some nice meals. They got quieter and weirder.

I fell in love in 2013. Actual love. Like the one in which you cry when you fight and when you know it will never be anything anymore you weep and get pissed being handed a box of facial tissues. Fuck you for wanting my process to cease. Anyway, I don’t talk to her, will pay her off next fall, and don’t want anything to do with her. I was totally in love with her though and spent 8-years married to her and nearly 9 together, and she never knew my parents as whole beings.

My best friend and I went to “Wakanda Forever” with community members and some politicians on Tuesday. I liked it. My best friend asked, “What do you miss most about your Mom?” and I answered it, and then answered it fully in group last night with other people who’ve lost one or more parents. My Mom was introverted. When she did talk, it was always funny and sometimes cruel. She was a heavy smoker until probably 2012 or so. That and her bout with COVID in June of 2020 made her voice practically disappear. I told the folks in group last night that I have a VM from Thanksgiving 2020 and it’s cute and difficult to hear. I think, too, having had a stroke when she was 21, her vocal chords were slowly paralyzing. I feel like I watched my parents disappear. They were like Luke Skywalker, Yoda, Obi Wan and Luke’s Dad in “Return of the Jedi” when at the celebration they’re in light, but faded.

I don’t want this week off from most all work to be trying or incredibly sad. I teach Friday night. I booked a hike with a new group on Saturday. I have Book Club Sunday, and my male pickleball partner is going home next week, and my female pickleball partner got sick, so I will probably just go literally dink around at the court on Sunday to get some practice. We may have to forfeit. Sucks, because I’m competitve. It’s fun. Don’t knock it. It requires skill to do well. I kinda suck because I can’t finesse and hit it too hard due to softball. However, it’s not SCARY like my golf swing is.

I daydream about the climber. I’m not going to chat at work again though, and won’t text except to text back. I don’t want to be weird. I just want to see how things shake out. I was incredibly disappointed when she had to cancel our plans last Friday and she was too and apologized; I was concerned that she was slipping back or reinfected with the illness, but it turns out she just needed hours and hours of sleep. Sounded like in total like 15-hours. I’m glad she’s better and hope that she makes plans with me soon. I can wait though. I’ve developed so much patience. She has the hottest body. Taut lean muscle from the waist up.

The other two ladies have fizzled. I read all this shit that I wrote in 2009 – 2010 and that tends to happen from time to time. I can’t even remember who some of these women are when I read their job titles or mean, sarcastic names. When you’re dating, you do a lot of it. It will be interesting when I have sex with one and disclose that to another one. I wonder if some will bail and some will be fine with it. I don’t want an exclusive relationship.

And… She’s back

I got divorced in September, and I am adjusting to dating again. I can honestly say that having a relationship which is exclusive would not be something that I would be interested in for the next couple of years and maybe won’t ever be interested in that again. I have an almost 17-year-old now and saying he’s a handful is super mild. That is laughable, actually. I don’t want to bring women in and out of his life either. Until today, I couldn’t login to this blog for years because I hadn’t remembered that just using an old email that I no longer can access with a couple of common passwords would help with me logging in, and now I’ve read some of it it’s interesting to me that I thought that remarrying would be fulfilling. It so wasn’t. Now, I’m 48, have been divorced twice and married for a total of 17-years. Been there, and won’t do that ever again, and super on the fence about a long-term thing. I want to date.

I have always been very active. That’s why although I have a mountain of papers right now, I had to blog, because I’m jacked up sitting here at my desk and at least freewriting is like a semi-activity. I’ll walk the dogs after I do two more of these grading projects. They’re way more than just a paper and require massive feedback.

I have been obsessed with climbing movies and climbers for 5-years. But, that shit is DIFFICULT. I’ve hiked many a mile and done a little bit of bouldering, but am not a climber. I’d like to be though. My ex-wife encouraged me to take a class at a recreational outfitter and I did it well then, but it was probably 2014 or 2015. So, I retook it in August and it was a night that I was exhausted, so I didn’t do it as well. Then I took an outdoor artificial wall class wherein the second-day was outdoor. Real rock is next level.

I told my colleague about that class and she asked me to have lunch with her and tell her more. Then she said that we should go after work. She said that she and I and one of our colleagues would go together. When we did go, she was the one who showed up. She gave me a great hug. (I thought, “Oh, we hug?”) She drove to the route. When we got out to pack up she said, “I don’t get naked with colleagues so I’m asking if our relationship is shifiting?” I said, “I’m sorry?” And she explained that she was changing now, and I asked her if I should hold up a blanket to which she quickly replied, “No this is a climber’s space.” Naked for climbers, but not with colleagues, maybe? She took me up a very exposed route and I started dumping adrenaline and having trouble breathing at all. She was so sweet and said that she was so familiar with this side of the creek and that we could take another route so we did. I was able to go up 20-feet, so I felt accomplished. Definitely want to do that again.

That’s not the theme though. I had on Mary Janes and it was dark and I was slipping everywhere. By the time we got midway down the route at dusk my hands were porcupine laden with prickly pear quills. She took her phone out and gingerly began taking out the quills. I pulled back after a few. (“We touch each other too? Like not just when you’re comforting my afraid-of-heights-ass?) She asked what we were doing next and I told her that I had a recipe kit and could open a bottle of wine for us. She and I engaged in a great conversation and I was sad to get back to the parking lot where I met her and determined that we do, indeed, hug now.

We caravaned in our cars back to my house from the lot. She is handy in the kitchen. So good and quick chopping even, perfect mushrooms. She draped her arm around my waist. Wow. I slunk away after awhile. Not sure why. After dinner she asked if we could sit in my living room and her thigh was against mine. Nice. Good hug by her car before the night was over.

My son said that if I start seeing her, that I’m behaving like a Rock Star. His words, “She’s attractive, Mom. How old is she? Wow. That’s pretty Rock Star, Mom.” I don’t think that I care, actually. I’ve also made a promise to myself to stop referencing my age. She held my hands when I was shitting my pants given exposure, she pulled out quills with care, she put her arm around my waist, she pressed her right thigh against mine on my loveseat. She also played a playlist and danced with me outside in a gazebo and we climbed a tree afterward when we saw each other 1-1 again. It was all prelude. The third time that we saw each other we took a two-mile walk three-weeks after she helped me and I watched her expert climbing. After our walk, we drank tea, snuggled a bit and then made out until past 3:30 am. She’s been sick so we’ve not gotten together in two weeks. I’ll see her Monday though at work if she’s better. I have a weird job and work in different places on different days.

I went to a party for a colleague who has been significantly promoted. I met a neuroscientist there and we had a nice conversation. I was really excited last Saturday when she came to a group function because I didn’t know that she belonged to the group. I’ve asked her out in the group app (coffee or wine). We shall see. We have a nice connection.

At the beginning of last month, I met up with another woman with my two dogs and hers at the dog park. She had a health thing and emergency surgery, but I would love to see her again soon too.

I’m pushing 50 and want to date a ton. I read through some of these entries and I think that I’ve typically wanted a relationship more than just enjoying a date. I want to do that now. Just date. I don’t want to live in anticipation of tomorrow. I can just see what I see when I’m on a date with a woman and not think about anything else but that moment, and that date.