I Don't Want a Sample Scoop of Man

A few days ago, out of boredom or curiosity or something else altogether, I looked. The slogan used to be "it's ok to look," right? Isn't that how they promoted online dating before it suddenly became quasi-acceptable? It's apparently no longer ok to just browse around and see what's out there, though, because now they require you to disclose your name, email address, 2 forms of ID and dental records before you can look at the men in your area (ok, maybe not the last two, but you do need to create a username and password even if you have no intention of doing anything other than looking. ugh.).

I jumped through all the hoops on two - that's right, not just one site, but two! - dating sites and looked to see what was there. There were hundreds of men out there. Not thousands, like you'd find in New York or LA or some other huge metropolis. But there were hundreds of men who were attractive, in the right age range, and many whose brief descriptions were at least mildly entertaining. As nice as it was, I immediately felt weird about it.

There's an ice cream shop not far from my house. It's a wonderful locally owned hole in the wall with a variety of flavors. Some very standard - vanilla, chocolate; some very different - absinthe, cucumber dill; some very local - cafe au lait, bananas foster. The selection changes daily and you're always bound to find something you'll enjoy. My favorite thing to get when I go there is the sampler - 6 tiny baby scoops of any flavors you want. I'm horribly indecisive, so this is the best possible option for me.

Online dating, to me, is the sampler at the ice cream shop. There's so much out there that it's impossible to commit to a full scoop, but I'll try a little bit of a few different ones to see if I actually like any of them. This one is a little bitter...this one is way too sweet...this one is a nice combo of tart and sweet, and I'm really enjoying it, but it would get annoying after a while. Additionally, and not surprising when you live in a small town disguised as a big city, there are even the flavors I've already tried. Maybe I learned about them the last time I played around online, or maybe it was in college or high school, but there's just no reason to try those again.

And this is why I can't do it. It's why I refuse to find someone online. I can't order a man off a menu. I don't like window shopping for guys anymore than I like buying clothes off the internet. Bonus metaphor: you spend all that time looking at the size chart, taking measurements, only to get it in and realize it doesn't fit right or looks ridiculous on you and then you have to return it and try again.

I prefer shopping in real stores, ice cream in sample sizes, and men in real life. Realizing that is the easy part, finding one not so much.

........................................

And for any of you reading this thinking "wait, blogger, I know who it is that writes this... I thought there was a guy in the picture." That's really a post for another day, but the long & short of it is.. there is? Maybe? I think so? (deliberate question marks there, as I have no real, definitive answers on the subject - it's like the Groundhog Day of whatever it is we're doing...it's the same stuff over and over and there hasn't been much progress. One day maybe one of us will man up and have a grown up conversation that will move things one way or the other, but I'm not quite ready for that. As a matter of fact, my current strategy involves pulling away, but again this is all best saved for another day.)

The Castle Gate Is Guarded By 30 Men; Can't Say The Same For My Heart

"Remember those walls I built? Well, baby, they're tumbling down..."

Much like Beyonce sang in "Halo," I realized over the last couple of months that my walls were tumbling down. Well, maybe not tumbling down. That's too much. It's more like what's going on with the brick fireplace that is original to my 1880's shotgun apartment - there's some natural wear and tear going on because that wall is just plain old.

My emotional walls were built almost 6 years ago. They were hastily made with less than stellar equipment and they eventually started to crack. I'm pretty sure there was even a hole in there somewhere. There must have been because somewhere along the way my ice cold heart thawed out a little. Each encounter with a new man was suddenly leaving me with hope and optimism, instead of my usual fear and caution. I found myself feeling vulnerable at the hands of people who did nothing to deserve that level of control over my emotions.

What's a girl to do?

Logic told me a trip to the hardware store was in order. Time to pick up some rebar, some really good concrete. Maybe even call the Corps of Engineers to find out what they've been using to make those fancy new floodwalls in NOLA.

But then I realized that's a terrible idea. Making the walls stronger and higher will not do anyone any good, especially me. Sure, it will keep the bad men away, but it will also keep out the legitimately good ones. Once I do that, I might as well start hoarding cats.

Instead of driving to the hardware store, I opened up the sunroof and headed straight for the mall. I still have feelings to deal with (mostly disappointment and it's almost entirely with myself - I'm an excellent judge of character, but I have a tendency to ignore my own judgment) but at least I'll look hot in my new dress while I sort all these feelings out.

Feelings: Sometimes Music Is Better Than Words

For a little while now (a long while, actually), I have been realizing and coming to terms with my feelings for someone. I'm experiencing things I haven't felt in a really long time thanks to the very high, very thick walls I have built up. I'm re-learning what it feels like to be vulnerable, and sometimes it's great, but for the most part I hate it. The ups and downs are horrible (when they aren't awesome). I've known for a while that I need to write it out to figure out what's going on in my head, but I haven't because - quite frankly - I'm tired of thinking about it. I'm sure my friends are tired of hearing about it because I'm certainly tired of talking about it. But I'm not going to write it all out right now. Why? Because in just the last 12 hours my emotions have been nothing short of bipolar, and somewhere along the way I ended up with a miserable migraine. I fear that words won't do anything justice, and I really don't want to get all deep, so instead I'll turn to music. In the words of Victor Hugo, "Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent." So here it goes (videos below, or links to lyrics for people who prefer that sort of thing)...

I was going through life like this:

OneRepublic "The Good Life"
(just lyrics here)

And then some feelings showed up and suddenly I was all like:

Jason Mraz "If It Kills Me"
(just lyrics here)

And then, because I'm one of those folks who loves to over-analyze the shit out of everything (seriously, it's no coincidence half the money I spent betting on the Kentucky Derby was to a horse named "overanalyze"), I turned into this today:

Diane Birch "Nothing But a Miracle"
(just lyrics here)

And that leads me to where I am now...some combination of those 3 with a little bit of this mixed in:

Jack White "Love Interruption"
(just lyrics here)

In the end, all I can really hope for is to one day be able to happily sing this song (and maybe hear it played at my wedding):

Trombone Shorty & Orleans Ave "Then There Was You"
(just lyrics here - but seriously, you should open up the video...the song is AMAZING!)


Yep, that about sums it up. Ugh, feelings...am I right? Part of me says I need to just give up and move on, but a huge part of me knows that I do that a lot at the first sign I see that can justify not leaving myself open to possible disappointment. I haven't been single for 5 years for lack of options; I've been single for that long because I can always find some reason, however small, to say "walk away." Do I do that again here? Hell if I know, and thinking about it is reminding me that I have a headache (and if I keep thinking about it, I'll remember that my heart currently feels like scraped knees). The only option right now is to crank up some 90s music and go bake something. It may not help me sort through all the crap, but at least I'll feel better.