Charlotte

Happy May 10. It's almost 2 o'clock in the morning and this blog is going to be done all via talk to text.

I feel the need to capture this blog in real time because tonight I pulled a "Charlotte".  Maybe some of you remember the episode of Sex and the City when Charlotte stepped out of character and went on two dates with two different men on the same night.  Both her dates were really great, but she ended up single at the end of the evening when guy one caught her out with guy two.  I kind of did that tonight.  Only my night when a little differently. 

I left work early with a splitting migraine because of how the day started. This morning I got a text from Nantucket Paul saying "Sorry,  I can't even be your friend. I have too much going on. You're sweet and great but not for me me".  

Knife.  Heart.  

Everyone always lies and says "Sure, let's just be friends" when they decide not to date anymore, even if there's no intention to.  Not this guy.  One my my best friends pointed out "You are sweet and great and not for him because he's NOT a good guy.  Thank him. He's doing you a favor".  So I did.   I sent a "Thank you.", cried a ton, and dragged myself through my work day.  Came home - cried some more and tried to psych myself up for the evening. 

I only had one date planned for tonight.  It was with the tadpole from town. See previous blog post.  He was from my hometown and knew my sister.  His older sister used to want to beat me up in high school.  I thought going out with him would be "harmless". I was a little off with my assumption. 

He was nice.  Seemed nervous.  He talked a lot about our hometown.  I heard names I hadn't heard in a long time.   He told me that all the girls that used to hate me are for the most part miserable in their lives and with "bums".  He also said that some of them look like "beat up prostitutes".  That didn't make me feel as happy as I thought it would.  Those girls were so mean to me, and I always figured karma would get them.  But I think getting older brings compassion.  I actually felt bad hearing those stories.  

After he had 4 beers as I drank 4 waters -  he decided to change the subject and mention that I was the  oldest woman he had ever dated.  He's 32. I am 35.  As soon as he said that I felt terrible.  But he continued... He asked me how I felt about having children being an "older woman with a ticking clock".  I told him I stopped putting so much pressure on myself to live and date by my biological clock.  He proceeded to ask me "well how do you feel in your gut. Do you think you can have kids?". 

I reiterated that I try not to think about it, my gut said nothing, family history proved to cut women off from reproducing around my age, but I try to live by "everything happens for a reason".  I could always adopt.   

That made him appear distraught. He said: 
He wanted two kids. 
From his own loins. 
So they would be athletic.  
He also said he was very against adoption.  (Which was the wrong thing to say to someone with a sister who was adopted)
Then he proceeded to ask if at my next gynecologist appointment I could get a report on how my reproductive organs were working.  

I thought this was a joke. Until he asked four more times if I really thought I couldn't have kids.
Whyyyy were we talking about that!?  I tried to stop it a couple times with no avail.  I left feeling old.  Like I was never going to have kids of my own.  And like my ovaries needed a hug. 

He wrote to me after the date telling me he had a blast, hoped I did too. Can't wait to do it again. 

Sigh. 

While I was with the kid-craving-guy Matt* texted me.   I've been talking to Matt since January 2013.   I've only met him once, by accident, at a grocery store. He's a friend of one of my friends.  

Matt's older, 43, and persistent.  His text to me said "You need to get off Match and go on a date with yours truly"

I looked at that text again as me and my old eggs drove home.   

Yolo.  I said "come meet me out now".

And he said where. 

We ended up at the local Chinese dive bar.   I had one drink. He had two. And I was hungry.  Bar wasn't serving food anymore.  He asked me if I wanted to go back to his place and try a Newmans frozen cheese pizza.  We were getting along ok.  It was only 10 minutes away.  

Yolo.  I said "fine". 

I followed him back to his place. He made a pizza. I sprawled out on his couch.  I bossed him around. Complained about his toilet seat being up. Made fun of his stereo. Forced him to watch my shows. He didn't care. He served me two pieces of pizza on a plate, handed me a beer.  Then told me I was beautiful and proceeded to make out with me.  

All I could do was think of stupid Paul. 

I stopped the make out sesh, ate my pizza, drank my beer, and said I needed to go home. It was 1 AM.  

I am home now in bed, struggling trying to figure out what I should be doing.  Do I take a break from dating or keep doing this.  Nights like tonight are exhausting and depressing.  

It's the damn zsa zsa zsu!

It's so rare for me to have it.  I'm mad and sad I didn't have it with either guy from tonight.  But I'm thinking as I'm typing/talking to text ...  the zsa zsa zsu hasn't really ever worked out for me.  Every guy I had it with - obviously didn't stick around. Was that because I'm different when there's zsa zsa zsu?  Or am I getting the zsa zsa zsu from a specific kind of guy that's not good for me. Do I explore opportunities with guys I'm not excited about and have no zsa with?   Or do I hold out for the guy with the zsa that will like me just as I am.  

Did I mention I'm seeing a psychiatrist Monday.  A psychiatrist.  I have a feeling there are some head meds in my future.  That might not be a bad thing. 

Anyway ...  I'm tired.  Physically and mentally - because it's late and dating is a bitch.  I yelled at God a lot today for doing this to me over and over again. I miss stupid Nantucket - even though he's a dick and is probably sleeping at some other girls house right now.  FRIGGING ZSA ZSA ZSU ... you get me every. single. time. 

I want more pizza.  Different kind of 'za. 

Lessons Learned:

• Be kind to your ovaries.  They can't help getting old.  It's part of life.
• Karma probably does exist. 
• Newman's Frozen Cheese Pizza has no preservatives and is pretty good.