Lessons I Learned from Dating

Overall, I learned three important lessons from my dating experiments. One, being self-confident and happy is crucial. Two, setting and maintaining boundaries is just as crucial and puts me in control. If I chose to bend my boundaries, I still have control without being a doormat. Three, the behavior of men usually has nothing to do with me; I stopped accepting blame when I had no evidence that I did anything wrong so long as I maintained my boundaries. This seems contrary to Max's advice that men will treat you how you allow them to treat you, but the difference is subtle as I still believe Max's advice but that's part of setting boundaries. However, I dislike it when people sum up men's seemingly bad behavior as "he's just not that into you." "If he was into you, he'd call you." "If he was into you, he'd (insert other action)." Once in a while, sure. But all the time? No. That the Egyptian hasn't told his family about me has nothing to do with me. I used to think if he loved me enough, he would tell them about me so that we could be together like we want. He called of his arranged marriage because he loves me, so surely he could tell his parents about me. But, no; and it has absolutely nothing to do with me; it's his situation, his choices, his limitations. It affects me, but it's not about me. A hard lesson learned. That a Croatian man I dated in Summer 2011 who no called-no showed for our third date and then dropped off the face of earth for two months also had nothing to do with me; we got together two months later so he could explain what was going on with him at the time so I would know it had nothing to do with me - quite the opposite, he was enamored with me and was scared to become attached knowing he'd be moving away in a couple of months. Had I known that two months prior, I could have saved my brain a month of wondering what I'd done wrong. But it's not about me, or that I did anything wrong. It's about them. Maybe these are the rare cases, but it provides some evidence that men pull away for more reasons than "he's just not that into you." No connection? Understandable - I didn't feel a connection to any of the men I dated in this experiment but that's not that same as "he's just not that into you." Bad timing? Perhaps. The Universe has other plans? God has other plans? It's not meant to be? Who knows. It's too much for me to contemplate, and, believe me, I have so I know. My ravens kept me entertained last summer. I bought an antique bird cage and hung it by my bed so that I could banish my ravens there at night so I could get some sleep.

Breaking things off with the Egyptian followed by the spark I felt with Andy and my difficulty navigating the dating world pushed me to work on my self-confidence and happiness. I contacted Andy after I finished my dating experiment to thank him for his part in my evolution. My self-confidence, self-worth, and self-respect have never been higher; it was hard won and well deserved. Until last weekend, it had been a year since I saw Andy. We'd been trying to connect since before Christmas, but he keeps himself busy and distracted (read: he's flakey), but I have my own busy life too. I know Andy really likes me, adores me, thinks I'm an interesting person, and a lovely woman who likes to be a wee bit evil. And we rock it in the sack. But I wouldn't be surprised to learn that he's afraid to get attached to me; that's what I sense. My ravens (negative thoughts) have other ideas, of course, but I tune them out these days to preserve my energy. It felt good to be in Andy's arms again. I missed him, but I didn't miss his flakey behavior. If Andy was part of my dating experiment last summer, I would have told him to fuck off for good. I'm on the verge of telling him to fuck off again, but I'm trying a different approach this year because the approach I used last year didn't work. When it comes to Andy, I've bitten my tongue several times since mid-December because my lashing out does no one any good and just pushes the other person away. The only thing I can do is change is my reaction to his behavior by approaching it from a factual aspect rather than an emotional one, continue to believe in myself, and have faith everything will work out for the best of all involved. If and when I've had enough of his flakey behavior - and that could be  as soon as next week - I'll send him on his way again. But my intuition senses it's in my best interest to keep Andy in my life for now - perhaps as a real test of my self-confidence, because there's a lesson I or he needs to learn (or I need to relearn...sigh), or maybe so I keep myself busy and distracted with my dissertation.

I sometimes wonder if my PhD work serves as a distraction from my romantic life. It came in handy when I was going through my divorce; had a long distance relationship with a man in London; the aftermath of finding out about the Egyptian's arranged marriage, his return to Egypt, my dating experiences between his visits, his return here, his return to Egypt again, calling off his arranged marriage, my calling things off anyway, and my subsequent surrender to our connection; dealing with Andy last year; throughout my dating experiences last year; the aftermath of my foursome earlier this year; through my dating experiences this year, including meeting another soul connection from Portugal; and now dealing with Andy again this year. I think I have a soul connection with Andy too. And that I met these three men while I'm working on my PhD in Seattle is interesting and perplexing to contemplate. I truly believe I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be mentally, physically, emotionally, sexually, romantically, spiritually, and intellectually.

In any case, it's my time to continue to do some inner work so I'm better prepared to welcome the next Mr. Right into my life. As my astrologer and metaphysical counselor puts it, I'm still in the process of purging who I'm not so I can become who I am, so I'm not quite ready for him yet. I'm a caterpillar of sorts who's evolving into a butterfly. I'm not fully transformed yet, as my re-connection with Andy illustrates to me, but I'm close. The Egyptian and Andy are both impressed with my progress, empowered nature, high levels of self-confidence, and my determination to finish my PhD this year. Perhaps these men are my mirrors who reflect myself back to me - from their very different lenses - and remind me how far I've come since they entered my life. I use my interactions with them to gauge my progress. Sure, it's easy to tell a guy to fuck off when there's no connection but it's more difficult to do so when there is a connection, and maybe I don't need to tell anyone to fuck off. Maybe I just need to enforce my boundaries. The Egyptian knows and respects them now. Maybe there's hope for Andy once he learns my boundaries. I've had push-pull relationships with both of them and in both instances by intuition tells me to keep these men around; however, my ravens would have me slam the door on both of their faces and run the other way, which I've done with both of them already but they're back for more. I've accepted the limitations of my relationship with the Egyptian - a love like ours never dies and we're doing the best we can - but we'll see how I fare with my relationship with Andy. Perhaps how I handle the situation with Andy will help me earn my butterfly wings. How I dealt with the aftermath of my foursome certainly earned me a healthy, vibrant caterpillar body.

Dating Experiments Summer 2013: Part 2

On Thursday night, I met Tom at a museum for drinks. We had a nice chat but time seemed to drag. We had similar taste in movies and music, but no connection and he smoked. I want to date a non-smoker. The movie was great though, then he walked me to the bus and waited with me until it arrived. He inquired about my schedule for the weekend and next week. My scheduled was packed. We parted ways.

On Friday morning, Doug met me at a coffee shop by my work. He apologized for the scheduling hassle the day before. He was pretty hot for an old dude with kids. Old dude...he was younger than me. Construction worker type. I engaged in and enjoyed our conversation. He picked my brain about my research on gangs and sex offenders, we chatted about music from our youth, etc., but I didn't feel any connection. He suggested I visit him in Tacoma, but I'm not interested in commuting for dates. Humm. Interesting, because that wouldn't have dissuaded me in the past. At the end of our date, he asked me to drag a pig, text the image to him, and then Google "draw a pig." When did "Google" become synonymous for "do a search on the internet?" Anyway, I did as he asked. I recommend you do it too. Draw a pig. Then Google "draw a pig." It's fun! Doug was concerned about the length of my pig's tail. You'll see why. But draw it first, cheater.

On Friday night, Adam Number Two text messaged me a lot then suggested we get together that night. We'd been texting for over a week, and I was tired of having a texting penpal. He didn't have any plans and was looking for something to do. Why not? What time and where? He wasn't sure but would let me know by 10pm when he figured out what he wanted to do. I found myself speeding along Bitch Road again. I explained that "I don't wait around for men," wished him a good night, and requested he not contact me again. We had wonderful thunder storms that night, during which I had sex dreams of Mark (Nephew's 27 year old friend who I fucked the weekend before). Adam Pink Tie contacted me again and wanted to hook up; I asked him to not contact me again. Then there was Brain, the shy guy who texted with me then faded away, only to text me again a week later with the same initial pick up line; I reminded him that we communicated before and I wasn't interested in communicating with him again. There were other men with whom I communicated but never met, but I'm finishing this post in May 2014, too late after the events. Perhaps that I don't remember anything glaring is a good thing. And that concluded the first phase of my dating experiments from August 1 to August 9, 2013. An interesting summer indeed. On Saturday I was glad to be done with this part of my experiment. I journaled about these dates, worked on my dissertation, then hung out with Ethan. We watched a movie and he gave my breasts a massage. Man, what was up with this dude? Was he hitting on me? Was I clueless? Were we both clueless?

I joined another dating site and had another round of dating experiments a few weeks later from men I met on both sites. I met Mark (see Texting While Fingering: First Dates from Hell), Kraig, Pete, Mon, and another Tom. My date with Mark was horrid but funny; I didn't want to see him ever again. He contacted me few weeks later wanting to get together. No. Kraig was nice but no connection. He also contacted me again. No thanks. Pete was nice too but, again, no connection. He recontacted me too, but I declined. After my first date with Mon, he declared me his girlfriend and wanted to have unprotected sex so we could start making babies. Did he even like me? Or was he that desperate? I know I'm quite the catch but how could he know with such certainty that I was the one for him? We had three dates even though I knew after the second date that he wasn't for me. Then there was the other Tom. We took dancing lessons together but I only lasted three lessons because of my knees. I didn't feel any connection to him either, but I enjoyed taking dance lessons and liked it that neither of us went into it with any expectations. You don't need a romantic connection to anyone to take dance lessons. Somewhere between Mon and the other Tom, Ethan became my boyfriend. And with these dating experiences, it's no wonder I ran into Ethan's arms when the opportunity presented itself that September.

Ethan and I had been acting like boyfriend and girlfriend for several months, so why not add in the sex? Ethan gave me the best orgasms ever but our romantic relationship was short-lived. When Mon contacted me for another date and I told him I acquired a boyfriend in the interim, he was pissed. He thought I cheated on him and didn't want to hear anything I had to say. All he heard was that I left him for Ethan, which was not true. Mon and I had one date. ONE DATE! Just because he expressed his desire to have me as a girlfriend didn't make it so. For several days he begged me to see him and I refused. Eventually, I blocked his number so he couldn't contact me. Then I flew home, hoping to visit my grandma before she passed away. She died before I arrived, but it was great to see my mom and be supportive to her. On my flight home, about an hour before my flight departed, I upgraded to first class so I'd have more room for my knees. My flight companion, Sanjay, was supposed to be on an early morning flight but wanted a later flight so he rearranged his travel plans that morning and booked a first class seat for a later flight because it was the only seat left. Had I requested an upgrade the day before, he would have gotten my coach ticket and I would have sat next to someone else. We believed we were destined to meet, and through our intense conversations he helped me realize that Ethan was not the one for me. I broke up with Ethan the next day. He has too many mental health issues and a bunch of baggage to unload and simply I didn't - and don't - have the energy for it. I felt like a yo-yo being bounced back and forth according to his whim and didn't want to deal with all his baggage which subsequently prompted me to toss some of my own baggage. And I'm a natural giver, he's a natural taker; that doesn't work for me anymore. Ethan and I are still good friends but I 86'd him completely for several months until my energy levels rejuvenated and I kicked some of my own baggage to the curb. We just started hanging out again within the past two months.

After I broke up with Ethan, I wondered how Mon was doing so I unblocked his number and contacted him. He wanted to take me to lunch that day. No. But I did see him a few weeks later, right before Thanksgiving. We went out for happy hour at some shitty bar near my home. Rather than catch up - I had knee surgery the week prior and was on crutches for our date - he spent the entire time chastising me for "dumping" him and for "all the time we could have spent together the past two months" if I hadn't "dumped" him. I tried to turn the conversation around, but he wouldn't engage. My gut told me to run the other way. When he dropped me off at home, he asked if I would date him exclusively. He wanted to see me at least twice a week, and I couldn't kiss anyone or have sex with anyone else. The man knew what he wanted. Too bad I wouldn't give it to him. There was no way in hell I would commit to him after these two dates and with a gut instinct to get the hell outta there. I liked it that he was interested in me - a nice boost to my ego - but was I interested in him? Not really. Just because he was attracted to me doesn't mean he's the right one for me. I saw him again on Christmas Eve, then I didn't hear from him again until about a month later demanding to know if I was seeing anyone else. None of his business, although he thought I was his property and that it was his business. Nope. I reminded him that we were not in a committed relationship, that I hadn't heard from him in over a month, and that I could do what I wanted, with whom I wanted, and when I wanted. He called me a slut. Interesting, since I didn't have sex with him. I didn't tell him that I was in the company of three men when he contacted me, and that I just had a foursome with them. It was none of his damn business. And I will never accept the label of slut. Men only call women sluts when they aren't having sex with her. Am I right? I told him to go fuck himself and blocked his number again. It remains blocked.

Tom and I have remained friends but he was over last weekend and tried to convince me to have sex with him because he can't touch his Arabic Muslim partner. I feel sorry for her, knowing her boyfriend is out carousing behind her back. Tom and I had sex in December - when he was single - and I didn't care to repeat it again because I'm not interested in him in that way and the sex was unsatisfying. I'm not sure how it became my problem that he cannot touch his partner - he knows the culture; he's Muslim too - but it felt great to tell him "No, Tom, I don't want to be that woman. If you're willing to ask me for sex, then perhaps it's best to reconsider your motivations for committing to her. You know the culture, and there's no touching before marriage and she's in the market for marriage not casual dating" (jack ass). I'm glad I didn't have sex with Tom because Andy came over that night. If I'm going to have sex with anyone, I want it to be with Andy. I said the same thing last year, didn't I?

Drunken Virtuous Nights

As much as I enjoy debaucherous nights with my nephew, I also enjoy our more virtuous nights. Two Saturday night's ago was one of them. We met at my place, then found a kick ass parking spot a mere 1.5 blocks away from Spitfire where we ate great food, drank beer and cider, and watched the UFC prelims and main card. It was my first UFC fights - I loved it and felt fortunate to watch two of the biggest rematches in UFC history! Finally, a televised sport I enjoy. After the fights, we scoped out a few dance clubs but it was too early to go in so we went to one of my favorite dive bars, Shorty's. Since I was designated driver, Nephew drank beer and I drank water. We changed into our clubbing clothes in the restrooms, and soon it was time to hit Tia Lou's dance club.

We'd been to Tia Lou's a couple times in summer and had fun (still want to write about those nights - talk about debauchery!) so waiting in line seemed worth it. But my knee was cranky and the crowd seemed disappointingly different than before. Nephew got us AMFs; fortunately mine was weak. We went upstairs hoping to go on the outside patio, but it was closed due to the cold weather. We ambled back downstairs to the dance floor. Nephew didn't yet feel like dancing, so I hit the dance floor alone. A tall, dark man with long dreadlocks blew kisses at me, then swooped in behind me and took liberties with my clothed body. Within five minutes (probably less), his hand went up my skirt, caressed my ass, and reached around for my patch of pubic hair. Holy shit. I wasn't interested so I pushed his hands away but they found their way back. When the second song ended, I left the dance floor in search of Nephew who I found upstairs in a dark corner. Nephew was displeased with the crowd, so we agreed to bail after a few songs. We pushed our way downstairs and back onto the dance floor. Nephew stayed on the sidelines but I went in again - deeper this time and near the scantly clad dancing ladies. Before the first song ended, a short Hispanic man latched onto me, but his hands didn't wander. A few songs in, he dry humped my ass with enough force to push me off balance several times. His hands started wandering. Eye roll. Is dancing the new (old?) safe sex? Or is it a precursor to sex? Does it have anything to do with sex? Sigh. Am I getting old? Or maybe I was too sober and uninterested? I wanted to jet. I kept an eye on Nephew and waited for the "let's get outta here" sign but he was finally cutting loose and I felt happy for him. I smiled as I watched him dance while my ass got dry-hump raped. I could have walked off the dance floor anytime but it was all innocent fun. Even so, I was relieved when Nephew motioned it was time to go. Phew. "I gotta go," I yelled in my dance partner's ear. He motioned for me to give him my number. "Sorry, man, I gotta go," I said then bailed like an illegal immigrant who heard la migra. Nephew paid the tab, I fetched our coats, and we met outside. Man was it cold!

It was close to 1am but we were still rearing to go. I drove us to our next destination: the lower floor of Alibi Room. Dark, dungeony, and awesome. DJ Mullet spun some cool beats, the bartenders sang along, and Dirty Dancing aired on the TV. Yep, dancing is safe sex. Nephew tried a few new "manly" drinks and some tried and true drinks. I drank water and sneaked tiny sips of Nephew's alcoholic concoctions. Within an hour, Nephew was tanked. With delight, I watched his transition from a shy man to an uninhibited man - he sang, danced, and flirted with a woman. We begrudgingly hoofed it to the car at 2am. Neither of us was ready for the night to end, and Nephew needed food. It marvels me how a 44-year old woman and a 23-year old man can paint the town red together. My soul must be infused with a youthful spirit.

Our drive home was entertaining. Some women were walking by Greenlake and Nephew exclaimed "Just look at the ass on that one!" This was one of many ass comments I heard over the years. "You're an ass man, aren't you?" I accused. "Well, I like boobs and asses. But women wear yoga pants and their asses are more visible than their boobs. It's like 'BAM!' in your face. So, I notice their asses first" he explained. Ahhh - I felt enlightened. I wondered what he would do if a woman wore yoga pants and a tight shirt? Rather than go to Beth's 24 hour diner, Nephew suggested we cook at home, watch horror movies, and drink. Sweet! "My fridge is on the fritz but I have some eggs I can cook" I explained. "Yeah, that sounds good," he replied. Then I could feel his brain wheels turning and out it came: "I trust myself drunk in the kitchen more than I trust you sober in the kitchen, so I'll cook. You just relax and I'll cook. It's in my blood, you know." His mom's a chef, so I know. When he and his brother were young, I didn't know how to cook well so I didn't cook for them. We had easy things like pizza from the local pizza parlor, or macaroni and cheese. I'm a good cook now, but that's not what he knows so he got no argument from me.

When we got home, we queued up Pet Semetary. Nephew wanted to play a drinking game: every time we saw a frightening scene, we had a to drink a shot. Sign me up. "Where are your shot glasses?" he asked. I pointed to their cupboard. He noticed that I had several Hard Rock Cafe shot glasses. "Yeah, there from different cities in different countries," I replied. "They have them in different countries?" he asked. "Yes. What city is yours from?" I asked. He looked at his. "Berlin" he replied. I looked at mine. "I have Amsterdam. London had the first Hard Rock Cafe. And when we go to Europe I'm going to drag your ass into every Hard Rock Cafe I find and I'm gonna get a shot glass," I explained. The he stopped dead in his tracks, looked at me, and gave me perhaps the best compliment ever: "Would you please find a woman my age with your exact personality so I can impregnate her immediately?!" he demanded. Coming from a man who's not yet ready for marriage or children, that was especially awesome. "I wish I could, man," I laughed, beaming inside. I'll probably use this to embarrass him at some point. Hee hee. He filled the shot glasses with Sailor Jerry, then he cooked. Yeah, he set off the smoke detector and broke one of my china plates, but his egg sandwich wad damn good and I appreciated that he wanted to take care of me.

As we dined on our egg sandwiches, we traveled down memory lane and he peppered me with a variety of questions. "Do you remember Video Palace where we used to rent all the scary movies?" "How did you meet my mom?" "How did you get stuck watching us?" "Do you remember how much I love Terminator movies?" And stuff like that. When I watched him and his brother, we rented scary movies and stayed up late watching them. Every time we went to the video store, we negotiated how many movies we could rent at one time. Nephew admitted that he had nightmares but he liked them, and that he knew being exposed to those sorts of movies could cause him to become twisted but he didn't care because he loved it. And, yeah, he and his brother are twisted like me. Somehow my mom's cousin's son and I got the fucked up, demented, and twisted genes in my family, and I passed them on to Nephew and his brother through nurture rather than nature. Muah ha ha ha. I'm so proud! After this memorable journey, we watched Pet Semetary, drank at some not-so-frightening moments, and passed out. When we woke up, we went to El Chupacabra on Alki for lunch to round out our lovely Aunt/Nephew weekend. It was a wonderfully virtuous yet drunken night. 

Occurred: 12/28-29/2013

Written: 1/2-8/15

More Advice from an Asshole

I'm recovering from knee surgery and had some downtime to read for pleasure. I chose an amusing book: Sloppy Seconds: The Tucker Max Leftovers by Tucker Max. I enjoy and appreciate Max's perspective and writing style; he's smart, witty, vulgar, offensive, and says things most of us only think. In his first book, I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell, he offered the most useful dating advice ever: women need to demand respect from men because men will treat women however women let them. See my post Dating Advice from an Asshole for the full quote. In Sloppy Seconds Max offers more advice. Well, it's not dating advice; it's gambling advice:

"It's a gambling truth - if you don't care about the result and just have fun,

you always do better than if you're trying hard" (pg. 125).

Now replace "gambling" with "dating." This advice is priceless. Let go of the outcome and have fun. I tried to let go of outcome and have fun earlier this year but I wasn't ready - the Egyptian, Andy, Ethan, and Bobby jostled things up. After my dating experiment in August, I was closer to the "no outcome + fun" part of my journey. Kyle (my self-confidence/happiness/dating coach) has helped me on this journey. The more confident I am, the happier I am, the more fun I have, the less I think about the outcome. In September, Ethan and I became a couple. In October, I went to Los Angeles to visit my mom. On my flight back to Seattle, I had a wonderful encounter with my flight companion that stirred things up and called into question my relationship with Ethan. As my flight companion kissed me during our descent to Seattle, I finally landed on the doorstep of "no outcome + fun." The next day, Ethan and I broke up. I've had some encounters and dates since then, but the dating dust has settled and I'm having fun regardless of the outcome. Or maybe I'm just too burnt out from working full-time, writing a dissertation, suffering from Chronic ABD Syndrome, dealing with a host of physical issues, and focusing on self-care to think or worry about the outcome. Either way, I'm there. I'll enjoy it while it lasts. Thank you again, my single-serving flight companion.

Dating Experiments Summer 2013: Part 1 of 2

Even though I thought my self-confidence couldn't withstand dating, I took Kyle's advice, joined the matching service he recommended, and gave it a go. I approached my dating experiment with the following boundaries: 1) no one night stands/sex on the first date; 2) men who refer to sex before we meet will never met me; 3) if men say they want to see me again, let them come to me; 4) (thanks to Andy) if men say they will get back to me by a certain day about seeing me on a specific day and they don't, I'll have made other plans; and 5) (thanks to Andy) stick up for myself if men don't keep their word.

I joined the matching service at 6:30am on Thursday, August, 1. By 10am, I was texting with 7 men. By the end of the next day, I matched with 24 men. I stopped matching and actively communicated with 13 of these men. Pink Tie Adam asked why I was using the service: to meet men with potential for dating. Pink Tie Adam kindly enlightened me that people use this service for hooking-up. Sigh. Really? If I want to hook-up I sure as hell don't need a damn matching service. All I have to do is go out. I have a vagina. What more do I need to get hook-ups? Fuck. I added another boundary: no hook-ups. On Saturday, I added "Disinterested in hook-ups" in my tagline. Maybe one night stands/sex on the first date and hook-ups are one in the same, but not necessarily. Can't hurt to cover all sex-related bases, right? I didn't know if any of these potential dates would turn into anything, so I didn't bother setting a boundary for when I would have sex.

I had my first date on Thursday, August 1 with Daniel. Mid-30s. Turkish. Good looking. He was respectful and suggested we meet for dinner that night. I craved Thai food anyway, so we met at my favorite Thai restaurant. He offered to pick me up, but I declined. The conversation was easy and interesting, and lasted about 2 hours. We laughed a lot. He paid. When we parted ways, he asked if he could see me the following week. I didn't feel any connection but agreed to meet him. You never know, right? First dates can be awkward. Well, it didn't matter because I didn't hear from him last week, and I didn't contact him. See Boundary 3. When I got home, I talked with Dave for an hour. Dave and I planned to meet on Monday night for dinner.

On Friday night, I had a date with Ethan and my good friend Bun Bun, so no dates with strangers. We had Chinese food, then ended our night at Molly Moon's where a high school dance troupe performed sexy dance routines to hip hop tunes. It was awesome!

On Saturday night, I met Sameer. Mid-20s. Indian. Good looking. Nice smelling. We originally planned to meet downtown at 8, then he pushed it back to 8:30. I arrived at 8:15 and Sameer hadn't arrived by 8:40. New boundary: if a man is more than 15 minutes late and I don't hear from him, abort the mission. My nephew was in town, so I was meeting up with him and his friends at a club afterwards anyway. But Nephew said to bring Sameer along if it went well. Sameer and I talked for about 30 minutes, long enough to finish our respective cocktails. The conversation was interesting, but there was no connection. We split the check and parted ways. I met Nephew and his friends at a club. I violated Boundary 1 with Mark, one of my nephew's friends. As Nephew put it: I bagged a 27 year old. Mark had mad oral skills and I was helpless against his tricks. Seriously. Andy didn't go down on me (and I'm sure he would have been amazing too), so the last person to go down on me was the Egyptian and that was 1.5 years ago. And Mark wasn't part of my official dating experiment so I bent the rules a bit.

On Sunday, I recovered from Saturday. Three of my nephew's friends came home with me. I only had sex with Mark, but in retrospect wouldn't it have been awesome to have an orgy with three young men? Sigh. Their stamina... Wow! Two of them fell asleep in the living room, and Mark and I did "cardio" until 5am. We dozed on and off, did more cardio around 10:30am, and then dozed on and off until about 1:30pm. Mark left around 3pm. What a lazy and enjoyable day. I'd like to see Mark again. Mark friended me on FB on Friday and I had two separate dreams about him that night. I have a little crush on him. Hey, he's legal. Yeah, I know...the age difference; not realistic or practical.

On Monday, Dave called me when he said he would (scored points) and we agreed to meet at my place. Dave is 41; half Mexican, half white. We had a wonderful and lively conversation over good Mexican food. He touched my leg a few times, but I didn't know what that meant so I let it slide. We ate crickets (salty!) and chased them with jalapeno margaritas. I offered to pay for my portion, but he picked up most of the check (not sure about offering to pay - I like it when men pay for the first few dates). We walked around a park and then he made his move while we were looking at the stars. It was a nice feeling to be kissed, by I have to say that my nephew's friends are far better kissers and they're half Dave's age. But it was still nice, although I had to continually reign in Dave's wandering hands as they traveled over my ass and sides. We held hands and walked to his car. At the end of the evening, he asked if he could see me later that week. I didn't feel any connection, but why not? Again, you never know. I suggested Friday night (my only free night) and he said he'd let me know the next day. We hugged in the car and he did the quintessential and gratuitous boob rub as he moved his arm across me. Really? Sigh.

On Tuesday and Wednesday, I had dates with Ethan. What a relief to go out with someone I knew and was comfortable with. It was a reprieve from my dating experiment.

On Thursday morning, I was supposed to met Doug for coffee near my work. He lives in Tacoma and works in Seattle, so we tried to organize our meeting around our work schedules. We originally planned to meet at 9:00, then he pushed it back to 9:30, then he asked if he'd lose huge points if he was running late. Yes. I suggested that he contact me when he arrived at our meeting spot, but when I didn't hear from him by 9:40, I suggested we reschedule. He asked if we could meet the following morning. I explained that I'd rearranged my work schedule once to meet with him and that I wasn't inclined to rearrange my work schedule the following day, especially because I was having lunch with the girls and wouldn't cancel with them so I could take an early lunch to meet with him. Doug apologized and groveled enough, then asked if he could meet me that night but I had plans with Tom, so we agreed to meet at 9:30am on Friday.

I didn't hear from Dave on Tuesday. I didn't contact him (Boundary 3), but he contacted me on Thursday evening to see if we were hanging out the next night. I hesitated with Boundary 4, but then I remembered Andy. I explained to Dave that because I didn't hear from him, I wasn't sure if we were hanging out the next night (passive me!). Then Dave said he'd been busy and that he'd likely be working in Tacoma on Friday and would let me know in the morning. Fuck that. The word "busy" accelerated my speed while driving along Bitch Road and I was in no mood to slow down. I said more assertively that because I didn't hear from him on Tuesday like he said that I made other plans for Friday night. He didn't need to know my plans consisted of lounging around at home by myself. But I was so proud of myself for maintaining Boundary 4! Wooo hoooo! I don't want to be involved with a man who's "too busy" to contact me when he says he will. With all the technology at our disposal "too busy" is not a good excuse. It's a lame guy excuse. Or am I being to harsh? Maybe a little bit of both.

To be continued...

Self-Confidence and Happiness Project

I hired Kyle (my dating coach) a few weeks ago. We had our third meeting 1.5 weeks ago. Rather than use him as a "dating" coach per se, I'm using our coaching sessions to facilitate my Self-Confidence and Happiness Project (SC&HP). Even though I know what to do to increase my self-confidence and happiness, being accountable to another person helps. Kyle's job is to help keep me set reasonable goals and keep me accountable while I'm working towards my goals. My reasoning is that if I increase my happiness, my self-confidence will increase too. And the more self-confident I become, the happier I'll become. And thus ensues a feedback loop of self-confidence and happiness that will enable me to better able navigate the potentially rough and stormy waters of dating when the time comes.

After our second meeting, my SC&HP goals included the following:
1) Journaling - but I'm limiting it primarily to positive things, gratitude, and my experience with this project
2) Meditation - at least 10 to 15 minutes a day
3) Dressing nice - at least 3 days a week
4) Meal planning and preparation on Sundays for the upcoming week
5) Creating a list of fun things I enjoy doing
6) Doing a least 1 fun thing a week
7) Maintaining my current exercise regime

I started my SC&HP on Wednesday, July 18, 2013. I meditate every morning before I get out of bed. As of last week, I've been doing guided meditation for weight reduction. If I'm going to mediate, it may as well be with an additional purpose, eh? Yay me! Because I feel so good about myself when I dress nice, I upped the ante and now dress nice each weekday, and I'm even dressing nice on weekends if I leave the house. In addition, I've been styling my hair and wearing make-up to work even though I go to the gym every day at lunch. Good hair days used to be an excuse to avoid the gym so I stopped styling my hair and wearing make-up to work so I'd be more likely to go the gym, but I don't need that trick anymore because my gym routine has been habit for the past 7 months. Yay me! And while I've maintained my current exercise regime, I upped the ante again and hired a personal trainer with whom I started working last week. Yay me! I did well with meal planning and preparation the first two weeks, but threw myself off track after a night of debauchery with my nephew and his friends three weekends ago and again last weekend. Those Sundays were spent recovering from heaving drinking. (And so much for my oath of no more one-night stands. I bagged a 22 year old three weekends ago and a 27 year old last weekend. Hey, they're legal.) And I was house/pet-sitting last week and will be house/pet-sitting next week so meal planning and preparation is challenging for me when I'm not at home but I will try to make is less challenging today by preparing meals before I head to my next pet-sitting location tonight. But, overall, my SC&HP project has been successful.

About two weeks ago, I perceived that Andy left me hanging. Again. He didn't see it that way though, but my perception was the one that mattered to me. We wanted to see a horror movie exhibit together so I gave him some dates I was available. On Wednesday, he told me he'd check into the dates and let me know. One of the options was that coming Monday or Tuesday, and some weekend dates. But I didn't hear from him by Monday, and I was pissed. After the last time he left me hanging, this was a particularly egregious offense to me. His excuse for not getting back to me? He went on a last minute camping trip at the weekend and he didn't have reception at the site. Boo fucking hoo. I told him his excuse was lame, and that he could have let me know before he left town, but he chose to leave me hanging again. Lame. Lame. Lame. I like Andy a lot. I have a connection with him that I haven't experienced with any other man. But while I love his personality, I dislike the flaky and disrespectful behavior he displayed with me. Personality only opens doors. Character keeps them open. I told him that too, along with some other things. I'm pretty easy going, and it's a good characteristic to have so long as I'm being treated with respect. I refuse to be treated with disrespect. And I have to demand respect from men if they're too lame to give it willingly.

By the time my conversation with Andy was over, I felt empowered for standing up for myself but was feeling overly pissed because I let myself feel all my anger for the several times Andy left me hanging, how he lied about why he broke up with his girlfriend, and at myself for my kind, compassionate, loving, forgiving, and trusting nature that allowed me to overlook some of Andy's character flaws. Fortunately, I was on my way to the gym. Because of an issue with my right knee, I hadn't kickboxed in over a year. But I met with my personal trainer the week before and he showed me the location of the heavy bags, so I was excited to slowly incorporate kickboxing back into my exercise regime. I planned on sparring with the bag that day anyway, so I brought my bag gloves and wrist wraps but given my current state I couldn't wait work with the bag. I peeled off my dress with a vengeance and pulled on my gym clothes. But I encountered one minor problem: I forgot my gym pants. Pent up anger coursed through my veins, and I couldn't work out because I didn't have gym pants?! What the fuck?! Damn it. But did I let that stop me from kickboxing? Fuck no. I pulled back on my dress, wrapped my wrists, pulled on my bag gloves, stomped through the dressing room, up the stairs, and into the room with the heavy bags. Then I unleashed my fury on the heavy bags.

After 30 minutes of going all out on the heavy bags, my anger subsided. I felt some pain in my feet and legs while I was kicking, but  those pains were normal and I kept going. I felt fantastic when I left the gym. But by the end of the day, my feet and shins were swollen. I couldn't bear any weight on my left foot and my right foot didn't fare much better. A shuttle service drove me within 25 yards of a bus stop. I literally hobbled like a zombie. When I sat down, I was so happy to be off my feet, which were now burning, stinging, and throbbing. While I was on the bus, I called various drug stores for crutches and located a pair at the drug store by my home. My walk from the bus stop to my car at the park and ride was excruciating and nauseating. By the time I sat in the driver's seat of my car, I was about ready to pass out. I'm pretty tough and don't usually cry at physical pain, but an onslaught of emotion washed over me and I broke down sobbing. I called Ethan; between sobs, I asked him to get the crutches for me. He agreed. I drove home, hopped on my right foot to the main door, then crawled up three flights of stairs and down the hallway to my front door. A couple neighbors were in the hallway. I explained "I'm not drunk...I just sprained both my feet." One neighbor gave me an ice pack and the other took my keys and opened my door. I'd never been happier to be inside my home. I crawled to the sofa, elevated my feet, and waited for Ethan, who kindly tended to my needs that night.

Kyle and I met two days later. The last time we met, I was wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt (I went camping directly after our meeting, so I wore comfy camping clothes) so I promised Kyle that I'd dress nice for our next meeting. Well, I was adorned in a cute sundress and sweater but my accessories consisted of ace bandages wrapped around both of my feet and crutches. I explained what had transpired since our last meeting. Kyle was pleased with my progress, and especially about my telling Andy off. "Doesn't it feel empowering?" he asked. "Yes, it certainly does!" I wholeheartedly agreed. Kyle had me color in a "wheel of balance" which is basically a pie with 8 wedges and each wedge represents one sphere of a person's life (i.e., career, romance and intimacy, family and friends, health, money, physical environment, fun and recreation, spiritual alignment) rated on a scale of 1 to 10. My romance sphere lacked the most, followed by career. My other spheres were a 7 or above. Kyle asked me to pick a sphere I wanted to improve. I don't want to work on career until I graduate, so I chose romance. We made short list of key things I'm looking for in a relationship. And then he suggested I start dating with the help of the internet. Whoa Nellie! Start dating?! "Kyle, I don't know if my self-confidence can withstand it" I confessed honestly. "You won't know unless you try and I think you're ready" he retorted. Gulp. The next morning, I joined the site he suggested, threw myself to the wolves, and thus ensued my dating experiment: 10 guys in 9 days...

Date Coaching

Sigh. I think I'm dating no one - other than my dissertation - right now. Ethan and I still hang out a lot - we have a wonderfully intimate friendship. Ethan's seen me at my best and my worst and he still keeps coming back for more. It seems we need each other. I've been practicing being assertive with Andy, but it seems he left me hanging this weekend. At first I was upset because he didn't keep his word by getting back to me when he said he would. But rather than do my usual thing of thinking I've done or said something wrong, I sent him a text message the next day that said "It seems you left me hanging. My time is valuable to me. Please show me the same courtesy and respect you would give your clients." Of course, I still haven't heard from him, which is unusual, but I don't expect to hear from him again. I'm not sure what's going on with him, but my chick feelings are hurt. And, as far as I'm concerned, my relationship with Andy is over given his recent lack of communication. I don't want to be involved in any relationship that lacks communication. In any case, I decided to view this situation from a perspective that's different for me: all I know is that he didn't contact me when he said he would and he didn't reply to my text message, but I don't know why and there's no sense in believing I'm the problem. Maybe he's just not into me anymore. Maybe he's in jail. Maybe he died. Maybe I scared him off. Maybe he's testing me. Maybe he's an inconsiderate selfish asshole. Maybe he's badly injured. Maybe he's scared. Maybe he's having some personal problems. Maybe he got back together with his girlfriend. Maybe (insert reason here). No one knows but him and I certainly have no idea what's going on and I'm not going to continue to contact him to try to find out. So why dwell on it? Sometimes it's easier said than done, but I guess it's part of the learning-how-to-date process.

Speaking of which, I hired a dating coach on Friday. I'm excited! I don't know how to date. With all the kerfuffle with Ethan, Andy, and Bobby, I was more stressed than I was having fun. I let these experiences negatively effect my self-confidence and self-worth, and I've been stressed and anxious for the past few months. For as much as I exercise, I should be sleeping like the dead but I'm sleep challenged because my brain is over-analyzing every minute detail of my dating experiences (hey, I'm a Virgo so that's what I do - if I don't have a problem to solve, I'll make one up). So why not enlist the help of a professional? The goal of my dating coach is to help me be my most confident and attractive self. Seems like just what I need. I have two homework assignments: 1) journal every night before bed to get out all my disruptive thoughts and 2) incorporate fun into my social calendar. I haven't been having "fun" these past few months. I did some snowboarding in March but that's about it. Exercise doesn't count, although it does count for self-care.

Before I met my dating coach, I already knew I wasn't having much fun (all work and no play makes me a dull and cranky girl) so I checked out the shooting range (a nice way to alleviate aggression and develop a skill - I used to go shooting with my dad but stopped shooting after the gun-related incident with Santos), batting cages and driving ranges (also aggression relievers), and ice skating (I took ice hockey lessons a very long time ago but never played). I have a lot of energy and I like to expel it aggressively, which I don't get to do these days. I love kickboxing but I can't do it right now because I'm having issues with my right knee. Argh. While Ethan and I hang out a lot and I enjoy my time with him, we tend to stay in and watch movies or go out to dinner which are both sedentary activities, plus going out with a man is not helping me meet single men because people assume we're a couple. So I also need some single lady friends who enjoy the same activities as me - and I finally met one about two weeks ago. We'll be taking western swing dancing lessons together, and she's joining me for a theatre performance next month. I normally go to the theatre on Sunday afternoons, but she convinced me that Friday nights are when the single men troll for ladies downtown. Naturally, I switched my theatre for the Friday night performance. I'm also supposed to go out and listen to live music (another thing I love to do), but I haven't put that in my social calendar yet. So I'm making some progress and putting some fun in my social calendar. The idea is that if I'm having fun, I'm going to be happier which will make it easier for me to date and less likely for my self-confidence to falter.

I also met with my astrologer a week ago. I've been feeling desperate and impatient to be in a relationship, and I didn't understand why. I was very much attracted to Andy, but didn't know him well enough to know if I wanted a committed relationship with him, but, even so, I kept feeling this nagging sense of impatience. Well, my Mars has been opposite my Venus since March/April and will be through the middle of next year, with November being the most intense time. Basically, this creates a spark or a scratch that needs to be itched. The scratch? Desire for a relationship. Well, fuck me! I don't know if you believe in this stuff, but I do. It's eerie though. No wonder I've been feeling the whole "I want what I want and I want it now" the past few months. Now that I'm aware of it, I can better manage it. But my progressed Jupiter is sextile to Mars too, which means that I'll have smooth luck with men, and that my ability to assert myself, define my boundaries, and initiate what I want will be getting smoother. He also said that I've been waiting for men to lead me where I want to go, but I need to lead them there. My chart also shows skill development in the 6th house (Libra) which represents relationships - so my desire to develop skills for dating is right on target with where I'm supposed to be. Creepy, but cool.

I discussed my dating anxiety with my astrologer and he suggested a few things:

1) Allow myself to make one mistake each date and carry it only for that day then let it go.

2) Rather than sticking up for "myself," stick up for my acute sensitivity to fairness, justice, equality, and honor. This takes the pressure off me because I don't have to fight for myself, rather I can fight for fairness, justice, equality, and honor.

3) Stand up for my sense of fairness, justice, equality, and honor as it's violated. Catch it in the moment rather than allow repeated violations that eventually result in my blowing up.

4) Temper my negative thoughts using Byron Katie's The Work. When I have a negative thought ask myself the following questions: a) is it true? b) can I absolutely know that it's true? c) how do I react, what happens, when I believe that thought? and d) who would I be without that thought? By the time I hit "b," I can move past 99% of my negative thoughts. Like I said earlier, I have no idea why Andy didn't keep his word...even though he may be a douche bag I'm not 100% certain so I can't even entertain that idea even though it's my favorite Andy-related hypothesis.

5) I'm already great at flirting and socializing, but give myself permission to learn how to date since I haven't had much dating experience and my early relationship with Santos skewed me towards submission. It's time for me to break out of my submissive pattern (well, except for sex because I loved being a submissive with Andy), live my own life, and let the men fall into my life rather than organize my life around men.

I think I'll finally be coming into my own in regards to my romantic life. Women have the power in relationships, but we tend to give it away. I've given it away in every relationship, and none of my relationships have worked for me - although they've worked fine for the men - so I've exited all of them after years of agony, unhappiness, and resentment that was partly my fault for not speaking up for myself. But not anymore. I want to be satisfied and happy in a relationship, and the happier I am, the happier my partner will be too. I'm tired of the serial incompleteness I've experienced in my relationships. It's time to bring it all together into one relationship (astrologically speaking, too).

I joked with my dating coach that I could just pretend that I don't like any of the men I date - if I don't like them, I have no problem being a bitch - and I bet I'll have men falling all around my feet. I accept my own challenge. So with the help of Tucker Max's dating advice, the book Why Men Marry Bitches, my astrologer, my dating coach, and the men whom I choose to date, I'm going to let out my inner bitch. Who let the bitch out? I did! Finally!

I made one promise to myself: no more one-night stands, which I guess also means no sex on the first date. While I don't buy into all that crap that women have one-night stands and sex on the first date out of lack of self-respect, the vast majority of men and women sure do (thanks, you social construction of sexual behavior jerks) and even though I'd never want to be with a man who'd judge me for when I choose to have sex with him, I'm going to give this no-one-night-stand and no-sex-on-a-first-date thing a go. It will be interesting for me to navigate that, although it may make for less juicy and less interesting blogging. My dating coach wants me to try out my leopard dress on dates, but that dress usually gets me into trouble. We'll see if I can maintain this good girl demeanor when I'm wearing that dress. I'm sure I can.

Now I just need to get some dates...

Damn you, Andy, for leaving me hanging and forcing me to follow advice from Why Men Marry Women and my dating coach. I'm pulling back rather than doing the chick thing by calling and texting him begging for answers and apologies. With dating it seems like I have to accept uncertainty and the unknown. Andy pushed a lot of my boundaries, so I'm throwing myself to the wolves and facing my fears, dodging my demon birds, breaking my own rules to become something unknown, and continuing along my path to romance with some unknown yet lucky man. So, thank you, Andy, for helping push me out of my nest so I can learn how to fly. For that, I will always love you even though I will probably never get to tell you.