Dating over 30 #9

I’ve been so focused on conquering the ass at work that I haven’t even glanced at my inboxes.

Here’s the roundup.

IndiscriminateDouches:

“Do you have a jersey? Because I need your name and number.”

And also lots of repeats about lost phone numbers and the greatest thing happening when they “met” me today.

While I did manage to have a couple of okay days with the ass at work, I haven’t done much else. I was stood up by a potential roommate and stepped outside of my comfort zone once. I was supposed to do it again today but I’m in pain and I overslept. Excuses, I know but I’m still waiting for the ibuprofen to kick in.

I did manage to make a healthy breakfast and I’m trying a recipe in the crock pot. I’ve learned a lot about the grocery store. Like checking garlic before you put it in the basket. I lost a third of it after opening the package.

I need shelves. I learned that this week. Storage and organization are my home goals. And that roommate thing. That’s a goal. Not one I want but one I need.

I passed a test a work. It took two tries, technically four but two were discounted out of hand.

I’m starting to dislike not seeing people I know on a more regular basis. I may have to join a club or actually start going to the gym.

I’m getting pins and needles in my foot, my thigh and I can feel temperatures on my calf now. Things will come together. I just have to work harder for it. Maybe today I’m not getting out of the house. Maybe I will. Maybe I’ll walk to the library today and get a new card.

By observing my male coworkers, I have discovered the following: They have no clue what they’re doing.

One of my favorite fellows tried to call his girlfriend from his station and addressed her as “baby” then he had to recover when she had no clue what he was talking about. Based on his stories, they’re not in the same place in their relationship.

My least favorite coworker has a girlfriend and is trying to get her to buy him gifts he wants versus expecting him to buy her gifts and she just exists. I’m sure there’s more to her than this but I haven’t been enlightened.

My second favorite coworker is in love with the WeatherChannel girl. He was very disappointed to find she was married and his second favorite weathergirl is pregnant. He’s had a rough week.

Our last fellow in our area is newly single and trying to enjoy it but is dating all kinds of wrong girls because he can.

One thing they all learned this week? If a girl goes with a guy to Hooters, it’s a test. And it is. Even if girl say it’s not. It’s a test. I’ve done the same thing. A guy stares too often at the waitresses, then he’s an asshole. It’s an excuse and we all know it.

I’ve got friends of all ages. Couples in various stages of relationships. I have a friend in her sixties who reads romantic fiction. She claims her husband is all for it because she pounces on him afterward. I haven’t asked how the reverse works. They’ve been married 30-some-odd years.

I have a friend in her thirties who “allows” her husband his celebrity crushes though I know she wouldn’t cry if a train fell on the woman. They are happy and married six years (together for 10 years), I believe. She has “open” celebrity crushes which are with his approval and “secret” celebrity crushes that he has no idea about because it would upset him too much.

It’s all nonsense. It really is. We push it on each other. We endure it. We encourage it sometimes. Imaginary other people in your relationship. Generally it’s okay to discuss the merits of this girl or that guy from the TV but the second it’s a real person in your sphere of living, whether you know them or not, it’s a problem.

Green-eyed monsters rear their ugly heads and then it’s the end if there’s nothing holding anything together. Sometimes things just aren’t meant to last. Sometimes there’s enough there to fight for.

My parents were married in ’72 and remained so until my mother died in ’02. That’s a long time. Over half of my friends had parents who were divorced or were the result of a shot-gun wedding. I’ve not been witness to a lot of real world dating that I could feel like was a good example. My friends often went to wild parties that I never felt comfortable in. My siblings and I weren’t close when they were dating. When my father started dating, I made sure I was elsewhere… a whole state of elsewhere away. Thing was, he had no clue what he was doing either. What he had with my mom was one thing. The rest of the women (2 or 3) that he’s dated since she passed have been whole other breeds of women that baffle him.

So, no one knows what they’re doing. They just figure it out as they go.

Maybe it’s why I never listened to the friends who have told me I don’t “date” right. Those gals have suggested that loads of clubs, wild parties and tons of sex with strange men is the “right” way to do things.

OR that I should go to church and meet a nice guy there if I was going to refrain from sex.

Apparently, those are your only options. Chastity or promiscuity.

There are a broad range of dating options. I’m not restricted to never having sex outside of marriage or sleeping with every man who says “hi” to me. My close friends know me and have always known that wasn’t going to be me. Either one of those.

Maybe I do meet someone on one of these dating sites. Maybe when I get out of my weird little anxiety box, I will meet some dude at a library, bookstore, comic book convention and we’ll hit it off. Maybe I’ll kiss a few more frogs before I find a guy who cuts a prince-like stature. I hate that frog-prince story.

Until then, I will wade my way through guys who don’t read my profile, guys who are too afraid to meet a woman they like in person and my own anxiety. It’s getting better. I think. I could be wrong. All things are possible.

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