WTF Dating Story #482

So last weekend I got a message from the stupid dating site I’m (kind of) on, we’ll call it OK Schmoopid.  It cheerfully stated that a guy “wanted to meet me” (this usually means that they matched me with him, he looked at my profile, and said, “Sure.  Why the hell not?”)

I got the little ding, looked at his main photo and his profile and responded that “Sure.  Why the hell not?” I would be game.

I later looked at his profile and photos a little more closely and while he isn’t someone I would ever really be attracted to at the outset (giant ear piercings where you can see THROUGH the hole and face piercings and tattoos from head to toe, including on his face) I remembered that I had stated my interest in him and wondered if this would be the story we would tell our grandkids after I met him and fell hopelessly in love.  We exchanged some niceties and agreed to connect soon.

Fast forward to this past Friday; I sent him a quick note: “Are you around this weekend?  Wanna grab coffee?”  Apparently I am SCARY.  For the record, Baxter is in my profile picture with me, we look harmless, and sweet.

He replied later that night with this:

Hi Tara.  Maybe. Can we be Facebook friends first?  I’ve been on some bad dates recently and want to do my homework better from now on.

I was a little. uh, gobsmacked by this.  I know I am a fairly active Facebook user; I post photos, regular updates, and I write for an audience of people whom I HAVE MET BEFORE.  I am liberal in who I allow to be my “friend” (let’s be honest, some of the people I am friends with I haven’t seen in more than 15 years and we are on there together a little out of curiosity and to network) for the most part, but I always do vet people a little first.  To this point, there are a couple of people, whom I have never met, sitting in what I call “purgatory” as I decide what to do with them and if I will add them at all.  I am conscious when I post photos of other people, especially children; I don’t feel it’s my right to splash other people’s kids on the internet – I always mark those extremely privately, if I post them at all.

I also use my Facebook page to connect people with me for my work, and I would not be comfortable granting access to my page to some face-tattooed wonder with giant holes in his, well, everywhere, who’s afraid I’M a psycho.  Just saying.  Not judging, but also not my taste (what HAPPENS to those giant earholes when you get old?  Do they swing in the breeze?  I kind of like the tattoos, but the whole idea was just going SOUTH)

So when dude thought this was a great way to get to know me, all sorts of flags went up.  Here are some questions that came up for me:

• What, precisely, are you hoping to learn from my Facebook page?
• Are 29 year olds really this clueless?
• Is my profile, despite being long and boring, really so vague, that you think 30 minutes spent with me in a bloody Starbucks would put your life in peril or worse, some boredom?
• Can you not read, perhaps?  No judgement, but can you?  Did you not read that I am really, really short and the most I could harm you is with a seething BLOG POST?
• WTF?

So I replied.  Oh, yes, I did.

After much deliberation and deleting of things I shouldn’t say in order to be Polite, I said this:

Sorry, but I am the opposite; I only add people to Facebook that I actually know.  If you think I’m that questionable from what I thought was a pretty illustrative profile, then perhaps email would suit you to get to know me, or maybe don’t opt to at all.

I know, I used some big words in there, but I was hoping he would just feck the hell off, and he did.  Here is what I got back, not 30 seconds later:

Ok, I’m going to bail out here.

Phew.  I have said it before and I will say it again; it’s all good material.

Related: I am now taking recommendations for set-ups.  Boys now need references.  Please speak with me directly to find out what I am looking for in a mate.  Note: I did not describe him above, although there is nothing at all wrong with tattoos.  Or ear piercings you can drive a car through.  For the record.

Basset Diet FAIL

Baxter is a morning dog.  He doesn’t care that I may have been up till 2am watching season one of The Wire, or engaging in any number of fun night-time activities.  The very second he hears the covers rustle in the morning, it is officially Time to Go for a Walk.

This morning was no different.  I got up at a reasonable time, let him out, got him some breakfast, and that was that.

Side note: Mr Asshole Sniffy Pants went to the vet yesterday for his routine shots, and it’s likely a combination of a busy Mum with limited time for walks, increased portion sizes of his food (the old measuring cup broke more than a year ago and I have been doling out his food with a cup MUCH bigger than the one that broke), and a general decrease in activity now that he’s a senior, but he has put on TEN POUNDS.  This is not good news.

I left the vet yesterday with low-cal cookies and a plan to get him down to fighting drooling weight in about 6 months.

Fast forward, now, to this morning.  After I got him his breakfast, I had to run out of the house briefly, GASP, without him!  And he apparently decided that his new diet was just too much in the face of being abandoned.  Seriously.  Not a drop of logic in his little head.

I came home to find some diet, uh, missteps:

The whole idea was to eat these in MODERATION. Apparently that means something else to Mr. Asshole Sniffy Pants.

Carefully eaten Meyer Lemon Coffee Cake. Just as Martha Stewart intended for it to be enjoyed.

Yes, that’s right.  He got the cookies out of the bag that was on the counter and opened the box ALL by his self.  Then he went through the bag of garbage from THE BATHROOM (HA! nothing in there for YOU!) and then likely on his tiptoes, he camped out at the stove and gingerly nibbled the coffee cake I made for dessert yesterday.  What is also astounding is that this dog has never gingerly nibbled anything in his life.

I guess I should be grateful the cake didn’t end up on the floor with a broken plate.  Small blessings.

I did take him for a walk, but I’m barely speaking to him at the moment.  Not the best support for someone on a diet, I know, but I don’t care.

Memories and Momentum

I have officially left my Day Job and am completely and totally self-propelled at this time. It’s both scary and it’s utterly fabulous. And with these massive life shifts comes much processing and spacing out at stop lights.

It’s been all of a day and a half, and I anticipate much joy in not working for 5 hours when I get home from working all day, not juggling and squishing commitments into too small spaces, and living my Big Life on my Big Terms. I know it’s going to be challenging, but I am totally okay with that. I have managed to make it happily through the rough ride of the past year, but somehow I landed ungrounded and scattered, so I look forward to getting some of that back.

One of my biggest cheerleaders throughout the past two years was Jessica Leavitt, whom you’lll recall passed away very suddenly last September, and I find myself profoundly missing her now. Jess was one of those women with whom I had an instant connection – I felt like I already knew her when we were introduced. I never stopped being curious about her and wanting to know more about her glorious self. She was one of the first people to know I was separating from Man (I went into work on that October morning and she was one of the only people there – I cried and cried and she said her peace and then told me to go home. I was heart sick, after all.) Over wines and cheeses, we shared our gifts as coaches, and she quietly had my back as I moved ahead on my plans.

Now that I’m here, I can’t help but think of her all the time. I think of the way she led her life and the beautiful way that she touched all of us. I think of her steadfast determination that I would have the very life I dared to dream of, in that ugly yellow office of mine with tears streaming down my face. She somehow knew and assured me that even in the crumbles of my relationship and the pile of potential I thought I had, that I could DO IT. And I did.

My next few weeks are filled with reconnecting with friends and colleagues, stretching my networking muscles and she would surely have been at the top of that list – I would have made a pilgrimage to Victoria to take her to dinner, share my joy, and grab all the beautiful inspiration from her that I possibly could. I know it’s purely selfish, this missing her I do. She left behind a young family, and it is beyond NOT FAIR that they have her no longer. I acknowledge all this, but I also know that in my bubble, things are largely about Me. Isn’t that just human nature? To be empathic and away of others, but still look out for ones self?

In any case, I miss her and I think of her all the time. I try to shine out in the world what she did; that we all have the capacity to Make it a Great Day, that anything is possible if you just get out of your own damn way, that love is paramount and there’s always lots of it to go around, that what you nurture can grow.

I guess I’m just in a really grateful place for the people I know and have known and all the support I’ve enjoyed. Feels good to be right here.