The End

"I've been dating since I was fifteen.  
I'm exhausted.  Where is he?!" 
Sex and the City

After years of online dating comprised of countless first dates and two failed relationships, I found myself relating to the above quote all too well.  Towards the end of my dating adventure, I was a member of three different websites.  I kept telling myself that probability and persistence were in my favor.  Without the internet, I knew that with my job and hobbies, Mr. Right would have to find me grocery shopping or literally knock on my front door.  Since I didn't go grocery shopping that often, the internet was my best choice.  But admittedly I was tired.  I was tired of having the same conversations over and over again on first dates that weren't worth seconds.  Where is he????

I met him in 2012 and his name is Chris.  Honestly, I wasn't very enthused about this date.  His profile was short and sweet but some details were left blank.  I also couldn't really tell what he looked liked.  His photos showed him wearing sunglasses, a bike helmet, from the side with sunglasses again, and his back (really?).  His messages were entertaining and with nothing to lose but an evening by myself, I decided to give it a shot.  We met up for drinks one night (after he waved me down since I wasn't too sure who was looking for) and what seemed like just another first date at a bar counter, ended up being my first date with my husband.  Chris was fun... and persistent!  After that night he asked me out the next day.  And the day after that.  And  pretty much every single day so it actually made it hard for me to date other people.  And when I went to Hawaii with friends the following month, he had the most gorgeous exotic flower arrangement waiting in our hotel room.  Man, this guy really likes me.  After that trip, Chris was the only guy I dated.  

during our first date

flowers from Chris

In 2014, a year and a half later, on the morning of my 30th birthday party, he proposed.  While I was getting ready for breakfast he was downstairs scrambling to inflate 100 balloons to cover my family room ceiling.  He had driven to my parents' house days before to 1) ask for their blessing 2) show them the ring and 3) ask for proposal suggestions.  And per suggestion, he was asking me now.  There he was, on his knee beneath a sea of balloons, just the two of us, a few hours before what would turn out to be both my birthday/our engagement party. 

the setting of the proposal 

What's funny is that when he proposed, he was so nervous that he "had to get straight to the question," and everything he planned to say went out the window.  After I said yes, we just hugged each other.  And in true Chris fashion, as he was hugging me he asked, "Are you happy? Are you excited?  Because I'm happy.  I'm excited.  Now let's go get some breakfast.  I'm having breakfast with my fiancé.  I can say that now: fiancé!"

we're engaged!

Several months later after getting my ring resized, Chris secretly picked up the ring from the jeweler and proposed to me again in the kitchen, saying everything he wanted to say the first time.  How many girls get proposed to twice by the same guy?  I'm so lucky.  

Afterwards we spent a year wedding planning and the entire time Chris was involved in the decision making process.  From the venue, to the favors, from the food to the flowers, we visited and decided upon everything together.  That's the thing I love about us.  We're a team.  If he washes dishes, then I dry them.  I make lunches and he makes dinner.  When he's working I do chores and when I'm working I leave him a chore list.  If he finishes early he tells me I better add more things to the list! <-- does="" font="" that="" who="">

a few engagement photos

A year ago today, July 2, 2015, we were married.  For someone who has a hard time making decisions, marrying Chris came so naturally I'm not even sure I would call it a decision.  He is the most kind, generous, silly, and caring person.  While he both agreed that we did not want to write our own vows, our officiant suggested we each privately write a story about how we came to be together; a story that he would read during the ceremony.  

Here is mine:  

My first date with Chris was at a restaurant known for its margaritas so powerful that they have a two drink limit.  I didn't know that as I sucked down my second glass, so admittedly I don't remember much of our conversation.  However, I do remember a group at the bar telling Chris that I looked like a Disney princess, taking a photo of him posing with a Hans Solo cardboard cutout at a candy store, scoring us free taffy with my Disney trivia, and ending the night with both of us falling asleep in a Santana Row business room as Chris rubbed my feet.  It was a fun first date and Chris must have felt the same because he asked me out every day after that.

Two weeks later he asked me to be his girlfriend, but after four years of online dating I learned that it was necessary to date three months before committing in order to weed out the crazies.  So Chris and I continued to go out and have fun and as the weeks went by I got to see how truly thoughtful and caring he was.  When I went to Hawaii with friends the next month he had a gorgeous arrangement of exotic flowers waiting in the hotel room for no reason at all.  When I put my pet rat to sleep, he showed up at my door with flowers and a milkshake to cheer me up.  He made me hot tea with lemon when my throat hurt, lit candles at night for my shower, left notes under my pillow and in my lunch, and drove a stick shift with one hand so the other was free to hold mine.  He came to any gathering or party I invited him to and he always fit right in.

Eventually, everyone who saw us together asked me the same question- why wasn't he my boyfriend? And pretty soon, I didn't have a good answer.  So with just one week shy of my three month rule, I told Chris I was ready to be his girlfriend.  Every day with Chris since our first date has been a happy one.  He makes me laugh until my heart overflows.  Being with him has been so comfortable, so easy, and so natural that when Chris popped the question before my birthday party under a ceiling of balloons, my "yes" was ready and waiting.  I realize there is no such thing as perfect, but there can be wonderful.  And Chris is perfectly wonderful.  I literally dedicated years of my life looking for him and now that I have him, today I dedicate all the rest to keeping him.  

And Chris's: 

Our love story began the way most do: via the world-wide-web! A little over 3 years ago, I finally decided that meeting women at bars or at work wasn’t exactly panning out. So I did what a lot of people do when they’re looking for an answer to a problem… I threw money at it. I signed up for a 6-month membership to Match.com, composed my online profile, made myself sound better than I was, and added a few cool pictures that showed just how awesome and fun I am. In other words, I started Cyber Pimping—or at least that’s what my friends and I called it. And it wasn’t long before Match.Com sent me several emails saying I was very compatible with a particular user named “CheeseLover15.”

My first thought was, “Well, she must really like cheese; this could make for an interesting conversation.” On top of that she was very attractive, and she seemed really fun and adventurous. So I tested the waters and sent her a “wink.” After a bit of chatting, she finally decided that I seemed sane enough to meet in person, so we scheduled our first date. It was amazing. The conversation came easily—it could’ve been the drinks, but I’m going to say it was our great chemistry. We walked through a candy store where I learned that she knows all things Disney, and because of that we landed a bunch of free candy samples from all of the store employees. Time flew by so fast, the restaurant we were planning to eat at was already closed once we finally arrived.

Since our first incredible date, my connection with CheeseLover15 has only grown stronger. I can always count on her encouragement and help no matter the situation, like the time she drilled me with job interview questions on the drive to Hearst Castle and rewarded me with a cookie each time I answered quickly and correctly. And if I’m ever feeling stressed or overwhelmed, she’ll be the first person to put a positive spin on the situation or find the silver lining.

There is a long list of things I love about CheeseLover15 and a long list of reasons why I feel lucky to be standing next to her today. We have shared many experiences together that have made for some crazy, funny, and embarrassing stories. And I couldn’t be more excited to add to those stories as we continue or life together as husband and wife.

Every now and then I say to Chris the same thing I said to him during our first dance as husband and wife- the same thing he said to me when he proposed- 

Are you happy? Are you excited? 

Because I'm happy. 

I'm excited.

HAPPY FIRST ANNIVERSARY, CHRIS!  

I hope I never have a reason to blog about dating again!    

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

This was just a date for coffee with a Yahoo engineer.  I swear, it's guys like this that have inspired shows like The Big Bang Theory and Silicon Valley.  I have no idea who writes these shows, but I kind of wonder if among them is a woman who has gone on one too many dates with an engineer. 

I met Dick for coffee and we start talking about bad dates.  As I type this, I wonder why I talk about other dates when I'm on a date.  I guess it's insightful to hear another person's idea of a terrible date.  Most of the time he doesn't have a bad date story to tell, just that he didn't feel a connection.  Once in a while his idea of a horrible date is when the girl is larger than she portrayed.  While I can understand false advertisement can be irritating or frustrating, especially since you're paying to go out with A and you get B instead, I think describing that as a HORRIBLE date is a bit dramatic and probably directly proportional to your shallowness.  You can still have fun or good conversation, even if it's immediately clear that mutual attraction is nonexistent.     

Dick had a few bad date stories to tell and each one left me confused and then eventually self conscious.  He started with a story about a girl that seemed very nice, but she had no self respect.  They were grabbing a drink, she was chewing gum, and she just didn't have any self respect.  It was sad.  Pathetic really.  She seemed into him, but I mean come on, how could he date someone who lacked any self respect.

Intrigued I wanted to hear more about the date.  What did she say? What was she wearing?  What made him realize she had no self respect?  

".... she was chewing gum," he replied, like it was obvious.

I waited, thinking that I misheard him.  Or it was a joke.  Maybe I misheard the joke?  I repeated it, and he nodded.  Chewing gum means you don't have any respect for yourself?  On what planet?!?!  Did Wrigley's get that memo?    

Another time he was on a dinner date and again, this girl just didn't have any self respect.  They were talking, they ordered food, and as they started their meals the conversation continued.  Except when he asked her a question, she would answer before swallowing her bite.  Disgusting.  Absolutely disgusting.  He couldn't believe it, she was talking with food in her mouth.  He lost his appetite.  She would alternate bites and conversation, sometime speaking before she completely finished what was in her mouth and it was completely gross.  Nauseating.  

Now, I've had some friends in the past who have chewed like cows.  With their mouths opened wide, complete with smacking and a clear display of what they were eating, and yes, it's gross.  But I clarified and that's not what she was doing.  Now maybe a majority of you think this is also disgusting, I have no idea, but I too am guilty of talking while I'm eating and what I do is either cover my mouth with my hand or tuck it in the side of my cheek like a hamster.  I feel like this is an acceptable since no one can see my chewed up ball of food when it's hidden.  Also, I prefer to answer your question promptly versus sitting in silence while someone stares at me waiting to answer as I chew, and chew, and chew, and chew, and swallow, and sip some water, swallow again, and respond.  

What I found shocking about this dinner date, is that Dick didn't just grin and bear it, he upped and left.  He said watching her talk while she was eating was just more then he could stand, he couldn't even finish his food so he put money on the table to cover his portion, and said he forgot he had something to do and left that girl there to eat alone.  She just didn't have any self respect!  

After these two stories, I found myself very aware of my actions as I sat across from him.  Was I slurping my hot chocolate?  Was the lipstick on the rim repulsive?  How was my posture?  I wondered how many examples I had given him that I had not an ounce of dignity.  Would I be the next girl he talked about?  The girl at Starbucks who zero self respect?  

Then I snapped out of it and remembered that I am a catch and he's just another socially inappropriate, emotionally unintelligent engineer who would probably need to date a robot and would even  find fault with it.  "It was just too clanky when it moved around.  Pitiful.  Like it had no self respect."  

Lastly he thought of another story, unrelated to dates, but related to that revolting girl at dinner.  He was having lunch in the Yahoo cafeteria when he was rudely disturbed.  Disturbed by these Indian men at the other table who were smacking their food.  He tried to ignore it, but he just couldn't.  Infuriated, he turned around and shouted, "Didn't your mother teach you to chew with your mouth closed!?" 

I'm sure the men sat their shocked, much like I did when Dick told me this story.  I just had to ask him, "If it bothered you so much, why didn't you just move?"  

"Because I shouldn't have to move.  They should have some self respect," he explained.  

"Yeah, but it was only bothering you.  What if they kept smacking, you'd just keep yelling?  The easier solution is to eat somewhere else.  Besides, in some cultures it's appropriate to smack your food. Maybe that's true for Indian culture," I said.  He didn't have anything to say to that.  Maybe he was calculating "Argumentative:  Self respect= -1" in his mind.  

What's ironic is that this guy was so concerned about dating a girl who respects herself, yet he was completely disrespectful to others.  Abandoning his date at dinner and then only paying for his own food while he did it?  Criticizing two strangers about their eating habits?  I guess you can see why I named him Dick.  

Cry Me a River

I went on several dates with another cop.  What can I say,  cops like nurses and my inbox is full of them.  I think to date I've been out with a CHP officer, Santa Clara county deputy, San Mateo County deputy, Millbrae police, and two Alameda County deputies.  That's if I'm not forgetting anyone.  This guy's name is Rob and wanted to know when I was free.  I gave him a couple of dates to choose from and he just so happened to choose my birthday.  Why did I give my birthday as an option?  Because it was midweek and my family already agreed to celebrate my birthday over the weekend.  Might as well do something possibly fun on my birthday.  Once he picked it, that's when I told him it was my birthday.  "Well, we'll have to do something fun then!  Do you want to go to the zoo?  See some monkeys?"  

I love the zoo!  For one reason or another we didn't go to the zoo.  I don't remember why.  I do remember that Rob lived an hour away and he didn't once suggest meeting halfway or me driving to come see him.  Instead he just asked for my address and drove to pick me up.  Score 1 for Rob.  I answered the door and there in his hand was a sock monkey.  "I got you a gift for your birthday.  Since we're not seeing any real monkeys today, I thought you might like a fake one."  Score 2 for Rob.  

From there he had the whole day planned, he drove us to Half Moon Bay, which is what, another 30-45 minutes from me, and we had appetizers and beer at Half Moon Bay Brewing company.  This guy didn't seem like the other cops I dated.  He was kind.  He was down to earth.  He wasn't self righteous or drunk with power.  He seemed normal.  He was nice, he was funny, he was sweet, and I was having fun.  I thought this was gonna be a nice birthday.

From Half Moon Bay we drove to San Francisco and went to the California Academy of Sciences.  While I've gone out with guys who avoided buying me a drink, this guy has already spent more money on this date than I would have if I was in his shoes.  We walked around for a few hours, sat in the planetarium where I fell asleep (as always), saw the fish, and talked some more.  When we were ready to go he said he told his brother that it was my birthday and he told him to stop by.  As it turns out, his brother is the head chef at a hotel.  So we headed to the hotel and sat ourselves at the bar and stuffed our faces as the brother brought out appetizer after appetizer for us to try and of course ended it with a birthday dessert.  

After the hotel he dropped me off back home and I asked if he wanted to come in for a drink and to watch some TV.  I made us some drinks and we sat on the couch and talked.  It was getting late and I asked if he needed to leave.  

"Actually, I was wondering if I could stay the night.  I'll sleep on the couch or floor or whatever and I won't try anything.  I'm just exhausted and I don't think I could keep my eyes open for another hour drive back home," he said.

Well, since Rob had been so nice to me and today was definitely in my top five best birthdays, I decided to let him stay.  I got him set  up with a toothbrush, toothpaste and prepared my guest room.  In the morning when I woke up, he was gone and left a note thanking me for letting him spend the time and he'll call me later.  What a nice guy.  And I didn't even need to lock my bedroom door! 

Our second date he asked if I wanted to ride the Wine Train.  I don't exactly drink wine because it's too acidic and upsets my stomach.  "I don't drink wine either.  But I got this has a Christmas gift last year and I haven't used it.  I thought it could be fun to go together." Alright, well in that case!  

He told me to pack an overnight bag, just in case Napa turns out to be a real cool place, then maybe we could make it an overnight trip.  So I packed a bag and headed over to his place.  From his house   we drove to Napa and rode the Wine Train.  The train was alright.  You just drive down past some vineyards.  You never stop or get out or anything.  And there's a car with a bar so you can order wine obviously or cocktails.  I had a piña colada.  However, they do serve you a meal and it was delicious.   So so good.  It was funny because he went on a Monday afternoon so the whole train was packed with seniors and we were the only young people.  We didn't stay in Napa, apparently if you're not a wine drinker there's not much to do there.  So we headed back to his house and ended up meeting Rob's coworker and his girlfriend for drinks.

Well Rob had too much to drink that night I ended up having to drive his car back to his house which was 10 minutes away.  Definitely more reasonable than the 2 hour drive I got stuck with when I dated McHottie.  Now it was late so it was my turn to stay the night.  Except he had a cat and my allergies went nuts.  I was sneezing like crazy, plus it was hot so he had his fan turned on and then that really set me off.  With a runny, sneezy nose I tried to fall asleep asap and then left the next morning.  I was still really liking this Rob.  He was fun.

Our third and final date was at a park in Los Gatos.  My coworker was throwing her boyfriend a birthday BBQ at Vasona Park so I asked if Rob wanted to go.  I didn't actually expect him to say yes, since he lived so far away, but he did.  Wow, he must be pretty into me.  I thought this would be a good chance for him to meet my friends, especially since they've met some of my other cop boyfriends who turned out to be a little cray cray.  Maybe they could give me some feedback about Rob.  

The BBQ was fun, we chatted, and Rob seemed to do fine in a social setting where he didn't know anyone- unlike cop #1.  But he drank a lot at the party and when we got to my house he poured himself another drink or two.  That's when the crazy came out.  Rob was drunk and becoming very emotional very fast.  It started out being sweet, "I'm so glad I met you, you're so caring and kind..." and then it quickly spiraled out of control into a direction I did not see coming at all: death.

"I'm so glad I met you at this time in my life.  I wanna tell you something.  I might have cancer.  You can get out now if you want to, but I really like you and I'm just so glad I got to meet you during this hard time," he said as tears welled up in his eyes.  And then the bawling began.  

"I don't want to dieeeeeee!!!!!" he screeched.  

Hold up, what?

"I went to the doctor and he thinks I have skin cancer.  The chances of surviving melanoma are like 10%.  I'm so young!  There's so much I want to do!  I became a cop because I wanted to help people, help my community.  I'm not gonna get to do that!  Why me?!  I've already been sick before, why does this have to happen to me again," he sobbed.  

I ran to grab him a box of tissues and gave him a hug.  "What do you mean you have skin cancer?" I questioned.  He lifted the back of his shirt and I saw a mole.  "They took a biopsy and I'm waiting for the results, but the doctor thinks it's melanoma.  I've been waiting a week for the results and I'm losing it.  I can't wait anymore!" Tears were all over his face, he kept wiping his nose with his sleeve, his face and eyes were red.  I felt terrible for him.  I kept telling him the results hadn't come back yet and he was getting worked up over something that could be nothing.  He'd briefly nod his head in agreement and then the water works would just start back up again.  At one point he just sank to the floor and I just sat there holding him.  I tried to be as supportive and optimistic as I could but he'd been crying now for at least two hours and I couldn't help but look at the clock.  It was midnight, if I go to sleep now, I can still have 5 hours of sleep before work.  Maybe he'll stop crying soon.  I called work to put my name on the A-Day list, just in case (a list to get the day off if your unit ends up being overstaffed).  

Every time I thought he ran out of tears, I was wrong, and the cycle started all over again.  How could a person have this much energy to cry for so long!  Even a baby would have passed out by now!  It was now 3am.  I was gonna have to work on 2 hours of sleep.  My 12 hour shift was gonna be a nightmare.  If I don't go to bed now, I'm gonna accidentally kill someone.  But I couldn't leave Rob on my floor in his state, so I put my arm around him and walked him up to my bedroom.  He crawled into my bed with me and whimpered himself to sleep.  

Two hours later my alarm went off and I called work to see if maybe God had blessed me with an A-Day miracle.  AND HE DID!  I got the first four hours off!  I was so happy that I jumped out of bed and jumped around!  This was karma baby, karma paying off right now!  Right this second! I stayed up all night with Rob as he bawled his brains out and now I got to sleep in a little longer instead of going to work in zombie-mode.  I climbed back into bed.  A couple of hours later my phone rang.  I answered it in my half asleep state to find that it was an Indian telemarketer.  Rob took the phone out of my hand.  The conversation was short, but funny.  It went like this:

"Who is this?  

Peter?  Peter who?

Peter Parker?  

Your name is Peter Parker?
No it's not!
Peter Parker??

Like.... Spiderman???"

We busted up laughing and he hung up the phone.  He left that morning and I lucked out and ended up getting the entire day off from work.  It was a week before I heard from Rob again.  And when I did it was only to apologize for that night.  That's when I got the real story.  

Rob has had that mole on his back since he was a child.  He went to the doctor to have a skin check.  Rob asked him about that mole.  He said it looked fine.  Rob asked if it could be cancer.  He said the only way he could tell was if he did a biopsy.  So Rob asked for a biopsy.  Now, why would you ask for a biopsy of a mole you've had since a kid that hasn't changed since?  I have no idea.  But he did.  

After they took the biopsy, Rob started asking more questions.  So what if the biopsy shows cancer?  Well there are several kinds of skin cancer.  What's the worst kind of skin cancer?  Melanoma.  Well what's the treatment for melanoma?  Chemotherapy, surgery, or radiation.  And what's the survival rate of melanoma?  Not good.  And that's what the cry fest was about.  Rob psyched himself out over a mole he's had all of his life, had too much to drink, and then had a meltdown on my kitchen floor.  I stayed up for hours trying to comfort him over something that was nothing.  By the time Rob had contacted me, the result was back confirming that it was nothing. 

Now my friend's boyfriend, who met him at the BBQ party, said that Rob didn't seem like the kind of guy who would lose his shit like that.  Maybe it was all an act because he didn't want to see me anymore.  Well, if that's the case then he deserves an Oscar.  Wouldn't it just be easier to not come to the party versus come and then cry for hours later?  Anyway, I never heard from Rob after that.  He was probably too humiliated to ever speak to me again.  Let that be a lesson to you kids, don't drink and cry. 

Blew It

My date with Robby wasn't bad but it wasn't good, it just... was.  He told me ahead of time that the restaurant was near his place so we'd just walk from his house.  I opted to wear heels despite the scary word, "walk" so I wore my most comfortable boots possible.  Little did I know this trek would be a twenty minute walk up and down the steep hills of San Francisco.  Mistake.  Walking uphill had me panting trying to keep up to my sneaker-clad date.  Even though it was cold and windy and my hands and legs were freezing, I was sweating inside my coat.  Walking downhill wasn't any better.  It made me nervous.  The steep decline plus my heels had me leaning forward too much for comfort and I had visions of somersaulting down the hill.  "Don't fall, don't fall" was on repeat in my head as I skillfully placed one foot in front of the other while successfully remaining upright.  Apparently Robby was thinking the same thing because when we arrived he smiled and said he was surprised I didn't fall.  Frankly, I was too.  That deserves a drink!

We sat down to dinner and were talking.  The conversation wasn't great, it wasn't bad, just okay.  However a few key things during dinner stood out in my mind.  At one point Robby looked down at  his hands, lifted one to his mouth with his palm down, pursed his lips and blew on the back of his hand before placing it back in his lap.  Like he was blowing a kiss except his hand was upside down.  I don't know how else to say this, but whatever he was doing looked a little.... gay.  And since I'm 97% sure that I was a beard for an ex-boyfriend, I'm on high gay red alert.  

"What was that?" I asked kind of confused.  

"Oh, I had some lint on my hand and I was getting it off," he smiled.

Let me fast forward to the next day if you will.  I go to my family's house, they ask me how the date was and the first thing I say to them is- If you had some lint on your hand and you wanted to get it off, what would you do?  I sat there as I watched my dad brush off the imaginary lint, my mom pinch the imaginary lint and throw it on the floor, and my sister pinch it with her pinky in the air.  I then held up my hand and softly blew the imaginary lint away.  

My sister: WHAT?! And I thought the way I did it was gay!    

Thank you!!!

Okay, back to dinner.  So asked me about my job, where I work, and where I lived and apparently he doesn't recognize the city, which is 25 minutes away.  I'm thinking he should know where it is, but whatever, so I give him two neighboring cities followed by "it's on the peninsula."  He seems satisfied with my answer.  Except then he asks me if I have to take the Bay Bridge to get to work.  

"What? No.  I live on the peninsula and I work on the peninsula," I repeat.  

"Oh, that's right," he corrects, "You probably take the San Mateo bridge."

WHAT?! That's the East Bay.  I don't take any bridges to get to work, I just take the freeway.  101.  Now I'm worried.  I'm worried this guy is stupid.  Gay and stupid.  

"I'm sorry, I don't really leave the city unless I'm going to San Jose, Palo Alto, or the East Bay.  You're in the East Bay right?" 

You have got to be kidding me.  No. I don't live in the East Bay. I live on the peninsula.  And you drive through my city every time you head to Palo Alto and San Jose.  I feel like I need to give this guy a lesson in Bay Area geography since he hasn't lived here that long but then I remember one interesting tidbit.  He has.

"Haven't you lived here for like... 7 years?" I ask with some concern in my voice.

"No, I haven't lived here for that long.  Actually.... (waits while he does some math in his head) Wow, I guess it's been like 7 or 9 years!"  Robby, How can you live here for almost a decade and not know your neighboring cities?  It boggles the mind.  I get that maybe my town is small and people might not know exactly where it is but I gave you two other cities as reference points and you're still confused?  

Overall, dinner was fine.  The conversation was fine, he seemed like a perfectly nice guy, he was pleasant, he had his shit together, he knew where his life was going and what he wants.  All attractive qualities- even if he might be a little lacking in masculinity and Bay Area geography.  After dinner we walked over to get some ice cream and then hiked back to his house where he invited me in to watch TV.  As I'm sitting there he crawls up to me on ALL FOURS on the couch with his face next to mine and in this baby voice he says, "You're so preeeetttttyyyyy."  

What. The. Hell. Is. Happening. 

I nervously smile.  Thank you.  He collapses onto the couch with his head in my lap looking up at me with this big grin.  Now I'm wondering if I'm on a date with a girl or a cat.  Robby gets up and walks to his bedroom and brings back a pillow for my lap, you know, for his head.  Still not knowing what to make of this situation, I remain fixated on the TV in front of me as he reaches up to play with my hair and repeats, "You're so pretty.  You have such a nice smile.  Your hair is so pretty."  Thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you.  

He gets back up again and moves in for a kiss.  At this point I couldn't care less about kissing him. I'm still thinking about the lint on his hand, his head on my lap, and "you're so silly! You're so pretty!" and I'm not seeing him as someone I'd really like to kiss.  But I kiss him anyway.  Heck, sometimes a mediocre date can turn into a great date if the guy is a great kisser!  It can make an "eh" guy seem wonderful.  So I give Robby a shot.  Nope, a mediocre kiss.  I'm not impressed. But as he's kissing me, I can, uh, feel he's excited... so there goes my gay theory.  But explain the lint thing!!!!

I drive back home that night not really sure what to make of the date.  Yeah, some weird things happened, but he was an alright guy.  First dates can be awkward. Maybe he was nervous, so when he asked me out again, I said yes.  Firmly on the fence, I was hoping the second date would push me over one way or the other.

His plan for a second date was a trip to the wine country.  Maybe we could stay the night, he said.  I wasn't exactly fond of that but it didn't matter because as the day approached it got downgraded to a day trip.  Then to dinner and a movie.  And lastly to dinner.  On the day of our date, at the time he was supposed to have picked me up, he called me and asked if I'd like to drive to his place instead and we could cook dinner and watch TV.  Well I was expecting dinner right now, so I was starving and not in the mood to drive 30 minutes to see him, then spend another 30 minutes cooking.  So No.  I would not like to drive up and cook for you.  How about you drive to my house and we get a pizza and rent a movie.  Sounds great, he says, he'll be right over.  

He came over and the moment he walked in the door I'm disappointed.  He was wearing moccasins, cargo shorts, and a ratty SF Giants sweatshirt.  Man, at least dress like you care about this date.  I don't even care about this date and I tried to look adorable.  Shouldn't he be trying to impress me?  Whatever. I gave him options for pizza places nearby and he chose one.  As he drove us there he was glued to his phone, sending emails and texts.  He apologized, it was work-related. Work had been busy and he was trying to take care of some things.  Fine, but that phone better be gone by the time we get to dinner.  

Nope, we were at the table with our menus and the phone was still in his hands.  In fact he wasn't even talking to me.  He was just sending a series of emails and texts.  Bored, I broke out my phone and checked Facebook and texted my sister.  You know it's bad when you're texting shit about a date while you're on a date.  

Our pizza arrived and he was still on the phone.  I started eating and he occasionally took a bite.  I asked about the pizza.  "Oh, I just remembered, I don't like this pizza place," he says.  Uh, you chose it....

As I gave him directions back to my place, he kept missing the turns, because he was too busy texting while driving.  As he parked he turned to me and apologized saying work had been really busy.  

"Well do you need to go?" I ask.

"Yeah, I probably should," he said.  He gave me a hug and then he drove away.  What a complete waste of time.  I would have had a better time doing anything else.  Eating alone? Eating with my family? Cutting my toenails? Anything!

To my surprise he texted me the next day and asked if I was angry.  "I'm not angry, I'm just disappointed that I wasted my time," I explained.  "If you were too busy to hang out, then you should have told me you were too busy, and rescheduled.  'I'm sorry, Alicia, but I'm slammed with work. Did you want to have dinner next Tuesday instead?' That would have been better than ignoring me the entire date while you stared at your phone."

"You're right, but I really wanted to see you!  Let me make it up to you, I promise I'll do better. We had a good time the first date. I'm a great guy and I think you're an amazing girl and I want to make up for last night!" he begged.

"Our first date was just okay.  The second date was a make-or-break thing for me and obviously we know how that turned out.  I have no interest in going on a third date." I firmly stated.  

"Really?? Just okay? I'm sorry, I know I messed up but it's not my fault!" he said.  

"Was it my fault?" I questioned.

"No," he says.

"Well if it wasn't my fault, then it has to be your fault.  If you were too busy to hang out, then you shouldn't have hung out with me.  That is your fault.  It's not work's fault, it was your fault for ignoring me.  If the situation was reversed, you wouldn't want to go out with me either."

"That's not true. If the situation was reversed, I'd try to be understanding that life sometimes gets busy and that you must have had a lot on your plate," he insisted.

"What?! No you wouldn't.  You'd be pissed that I ignored you and pissed that I showed up to the date dressed like I didn't give a shit.  You looked like you didn't care about me and you acted like you didn't care about me and I don't need a third date to give you a second chance, this was a second chance and I'm not interested."  

Just like the lint on your hand Robby, you blew it.   

Keep it to Yourself

I guess I just don't understand what some guys are thinking.  I don't want to see a photo of your  dick, or have a FaceTime chat with it.  

Is this the new thing?  "Hey, here's what I'm working with?  (insert erect penis here)" Or do I have a "I like dick pics, please send some STAT" secretly embedded in my online profile that I don't know about?

I'm curious as to how many women would enjoy receiving a picture of a man's junk?  Ryan Gosling's an exception.  I mean a normal man's junk.  I don't know if this is the nurse in me, but there are other parts of the body I would much rather see.  I respect the function, but it's not aesthetically pleasing.  Show me some biceps, pecs, your ass, abs... pretty much anything else would be nice.  But when you offer to show me how your gym time has paid off, I'm expecting some adonis lines or a v-shaped back... not a cock shot.  Nothing says, "I respect you" and "I'm looking for a serious relationship" like a cock shot.  When a hot guy I've been talking to sent me that, I shook my head in disappointment.  Well that was a waste.  I get paid to see those at work.  Show me something I don't see- the toned body of a young man.  Just another dick? Thanks, that'll be $61 for my time.  

Everyone is probably guilty of taking a picture of their body when it looks particularly good, including me.  Send me *that* pic! In fact, I have a couple of bikini photos from a trip to Oahu that my friend said I should send to Chuck so he could see what he left.  I would love to.  Ha!

Seriously, I had so many cock shots that I could start a collage.  And I actually tried to, except I had deleted too many of them that it would require me to build up a whole new archive just so I could do it.  Is it sad that I'm actually disappointed that I deleted them because I thought that collage was a fun idea?  I even downloaded an app that let's you censor things or put that star symbol that porn sites use to censor.  Maybe if I get some more, my next post will be a collage of dicks all shapes and sizes saluting you, the reader!  I hope not, for make sake.  I'd really like to meet a nice guy.

Nice guy, please don't send me a picture of your penis. 

Welcome Back to the Market

A one month relationship totaling four months of dating... that's a new record.  And I don't mean that in a good way.  And all I can really say about this is WHAT.  THE.  FUCK.  

Well it turns out Mister "Magical in all the right ways" really wasn't.  His name is Chuck and things took off right away.  For two to three weeks we talked everyday- exchanged emails, texts, and phone calls.  He was another cop, so based on my last cop boyfriend I had a lot of questions.  His last girlfriend was a nurse, I'm a nurse, so he had a lot of questions.  Basically we were each trying to make sure that the other was normal.  The more we talked the more I liked him.  He was funny and smart and personable and I felt a connection almost immediately.  

Our first date was to the aquarium.  He drove 40 minutes to get me and when I opened the door he picked me up and gave me a big spinning hug, as if we already knew each other.  It took us an hour to get to the aquarium and although his radio was broken, we didn't need it.  We talked the whole way.  This date was amazing.  Everything felt so natural, so comfortable, it didn't feel like a first date and he didn't feel like a stranger.  Halfway through the day he even reached for my hand and he held it while we walked over to a  pool hall to play a couple of rounds.  On the hour ride back to my house we talked some more and then he came inside, I popped popcorn and we watched a movie.  He laid his head in my lap and I played with his hair and I thought to myself, I could see myself doing this for a long long time.  When he got back home he texted me, "This by far was the best first date ever!  I probably shouldn't be saying this, but I can't wait to see you again!" Yes!  

Fast forward three months and many dates later.  I met his parents multiple times and they loved me.  I met his best friend and he gave me a thumbs up.  His coworkers noticed how happy he was and he couldn't stop going on and on about me. He had visited me at work to say hi and dropped in to surprise me when he knew I was having a bad day.  Brought treats for me and my coworkers both times so obviously they liked him too.  He opened up to me right away, told me about some past family drama from ten years ago and how it really traumatized him.  How his biggest fear was dying alone.  That he was envious of his brother's marriage and his best friend's engagement.  He wanted someone to love and take care of and someone to love him back, and for one reason or another he just hasn't had that yet.  

We exchanged Christmas gifts after only knowing each other a month.  He invited me to his parent's cabin on the lake- a place he's never taken a girl before because it's always been his sanctuary.  A place he goes when he wants to be alone.  But he was excited to take me.  On Valentine's day we exchanged gifts and he surprised me with a beautiful flower arrangement and candy delivered to me at work.  This guy is perfect, I thought.  I like everything about him, I didn't have one bad thing to say.  

At one point during all of this he read my blog post where I referred to him as "magical in all the right ways" and he was touched.  He said no one had ever said anything like that about him before.  I thought to myself, "Wow, if that one sentence means that much to him, wait until he hears how I really feel!"  So that night I told him how much I liked him.  That I could tell I was falling for him.  Apparently that scared him a little.  He said he was used to being cut off or having to call it quits early on, so instinctively he was still treading lightly with me. That's okay, I thought, because I'm not going to do anything to mess this up.  

A week or so later I heard a new song on the radio that reminded me of him and I told him to listen to it.  I don't know if he ever did, but I heard it this morning on the radio when my alarm went off and it suddenly occurred to me how spot-on I really was.  

Demi Lovato- Give Your Heart A Break

The day I first met you

You told me you'd never fall in love

But now that I get you

I know fear is what it really was

Now here we are, so close

Yet so far

Haven't I passed the test?

When will you realize

Baby, I'm not like the rest?

Don't wanna break you heart

Wanna give your heart a break

I know you're scared it's wrong

Like you might make a mistake

There's just one life to live

And there's no time to wait, to waste

So let me give your heart a break...

Shortly after Valentine's day he told me he closed his dating account and it made him smile to know that he didn't need it anymore.  The next day he told his parents we were official before he even told me we were.  Of course they were happy.  His dad kept asking him if I was one of his "great ones," a reference from A Bronx Tale where a character said you only get three great women in your lifetime.  And his mom once told me that "the team" (her and her husband) were rooting for me.  

I made a comment to Chuck about how it was nice that everyone knew we were official except for me.  "Well hurry up and come over so we can make this official in person!" he laughed. I got to his house and he was in the middle of a workout.  "I don't care if I'm sweaty, I'm going to hug you anyway" he said as he pulled me close. ".... So are you gonna be my girlfriend or what?"      

He had vacation time coming up in March and I asked if maybe he wanted to go somewhere with me.  Something simple, say, Disneyland?  He gave Disneyland the green light so I planned the whole thing.  Then he started making other plans.  His birthday was in April and he wanted to have a BBQ at his place with his buddies and wanted me to get the day off.  The next day he was going to celebrate with his parents and wanted me to be there.  He had more vacation time coming up in September/October.  Did I want to go to Portugal with him?  And his best friend is getting married over Labor Day weekend, it's going to be epic... make sure to get the days off.  Things were clearly going in the right direction between us.  He was making longterm plans with me.  This is the last guy I'm going to date.  I could feel it.       

A week before Disneyland he told me he felt depressed for no particular reason.  "Sounds like a man period," I joked.  "It's probably hormonal.  I get that way too, sad for no reason."  The next day he told me what it really was.  Every year around this time he gets depressed because that's when he first found out about his father's affair and drama that unfolded thereafter that left him traumatized.  "I have no reason to be depressed," he said.  "My parents are still together and they're better than they've ever been.  I have a great family, I have a career, I have a dog, a home, and I finally have the missing puzzle piece- a solid girlfriend that I care about and miss when she's gone."    

The night before we left he was texting me at 1:30am, saying how excited he was.  He's never been on a vacation with a  girlfriend before.  I could tell he was pumped because he's like a little old man and crashes by 10pm and here he is still wide awake.  Disneyland was great.  I had a blast.  We had a lot of fun, and it even marked our one monthiversary. I met his brother and sister-in-law for the first time, we laughed, we pigged out, he screamed on rides, we took pictures together, he was all lovey-dovey, holding my hand, kissing my head, hugging me in lines, cuddling with me at night.  Everything was great.  

The day after we got back he came over to pay for his share of the trip.  He looked like a Disney ad wearing this Disney jacket and pirate shirt he bought there.  He was telling me about the bad day he was having and I said it sounded like he needed a hug, so I hugged him.  He told me he had gotten a bad sleep, tossed and turned all night, and that's when it all started to fall apart.  

"I think I need to be single.  Maybe I'm not ready for a commitment.  I feel like I've lost interest.  I don't like you as much as before.  I feel like we're losing the spark.  I guess the best way to describe it is unmotivated.  I don't feel like I'm giving this 100%.  I had fun in Disneyland, but I didn't come away from it liking you more.  I  like you the same.  Maybe I need to go back to therapy, maybe I need to be single for a while...  It's nothing you did or said.  You're a great woman- you've got a career, you come from a  good family, you've got a home... but if I'm not feeling that physical/spiritual/emotional connection then I'm not gonna lead you on."  I stood there speechless.  Stunned and shocked.  It was all I could do as he was walking out of my house to mutter that I wanted a hug.  

Less than 24 hours after posting our vacation pictures on Facebook, I was now taking them down and changing my status to single.  I felt like a retard.  I couldn't believe it.  My family couldn't believe it.  My friends couldn't believe it.  What the hell happened?  

I took some time to think about it and came up with three possible scenarios.

1) He's feeling a lot of pressure- he takes me to his family's cabin- a first- and then he goes on a vacation with me- another first.  Two big steps.  His parent's are asking him if I'm the one.  They're pressuring him not to mess this up.  Maybe he became overwhelmed with it all, things were getting too real too fast and he instinctively slammed on the brakes.

2) Based on his parent's rocky past, he's afraid I'm going to hurt him or that he'll hurt me.  He's taken steps with me he's never taken before, he's got the approval of his friends and family, he's getting close to me and he's terrified.  So before he can become vulnerable and risk being hurt, he's going to sabotage things and end it.  Or sabotage things by ending it with me so he doesn't hurt me the way his dad hurt his mom.    

3)  I farted in my sleep in the hotel, he heard it, was grossed out and broke up with me.   I'm not gonna lie, it was loud.  I know it was loud because it woke me up.  And if he was awake then I'm the gross girl who just blasted a fart in front of her boyfriend.  However if scenario 3 is the reason for the breakup, I think that should be forgiven because I was unconscious.  Just saying...

After having a day and a half to think about things and realizing that his actions over the last four months did not jive with his words from Friday, I decided to make contact.  We scheduled a return of items for Sunday and I told him that I wanted to talk.  I decided that if one of my theories was correct (minus the fart one, I'm not asking him "is this because I may or may not have farted in my sleep?), and he could admit it, then maybe that was something we could work on together.  I feel like I should fight for him.  

Saturday night I said a prayer, telling God how much I cared about Chuck and if he was "the one" then to help him open his eyes.  But if he's not the one, then I wanted it to be absolutely clear that there was no chance we'd get back together.  God answered my prayers.  

Sunday morning Chuck came over with my things and I answered the door looking as pretty as can be.  I put down my things and sat on the corner of the couch. I noticed that he didn't sit with me, he sat on the love seat on the corner furthest from me.  It started off badly.  He complained how he felt bad driving all the way down here to deliver bad news again, just to feel bad as he drives back home.  I'm sorry breaking up with me is so difficult for you, 80 minutes of guile,  meanwhile I was completely blindsided and looked like a fool.  Posting up pictures of us and then taking them down hours later saying we're broken up, the day after our first trip together.  Yeah,  poor you.

I recapped his key points for ending things with me: unmotivated, liked me less, lost interest, less of a spark.  "How long have you felt this way?" I ask.            

"For about a month now," he states.  Bullshit.  

"I'm sorry, I don't buy it," I respond.  "You asked me a month ago to be your girlfriend.  You're the one who canceled your account, not me.  You're the one who told your parents we were official you even let me know we were.  Because you like me.  

Unmotivated? You've bought me presents, you had a bouquet delivered to my job, you've driven out twice to come and visit me at work.  If that's not giving it 100%, then I don't know what is!

Less of a spark, I can see that, but maybe that's because we've been sitting at first base for four months because you wanted to take things slow because you were afraid of screwing it up.  Maybe if we took things to the next level, there'd be a bigger spark.  

And just last week you told me I was your missing puzzle piece, you were all lovey dovey with me in Disneyland, you crawled into my hotel bed to cuddle, and you were making plans with me for next week, next month, and next September- all just a few days ago.  You don't do those things with someone you've lost interest in.  You don't do those things with someone you like less.  And you certainly don't do those things with someone you haven't liked for a month.  And it's not like I forced you to do any of that. You initiated all of it on your own!  I've gone on a vacation with someone I lost interest in and I avoided those things at all costs.  Kiss? I think I'll pass.  It's okay, I'll sleep in my own bed.  I'm good on hugs, thanks.  Granted, you sound pretty adamant that you don't like me, but your actions and words for the past month up to 48 hours ago are very different than what you're telling me now."    

"HA!" he blurts out as he leans back into the couch and looks up at the ceiling, "I'm glad we didn't have sex!  I'm glad we weren't more intimate.  I'd hate to sit here having you think this was a wham-bam-thank you ma'am because I'd feel like a scumbag."

"Well I'm glad nothing happened in Disneyland either, because I'd feel like shit, but that's not what I'm trying to say..."

"I can see how this could be confusing and misleading," he interrupts.  "I did all of those things because I wanted to do them.  And when I said those things, I meant them.  But the thing about emotions is that they can flip.  (What? Maybe if you're bipolar) And I'm not going to try to force a connection when I just don't feel it."  Again, is it just me or does that not make any sense? I said and meant those things as recently as 48 hours ago but my emotions "flipped" and now I'm not that into you?  Huh??

"Again, it's nothing you said or did. You didn't do anything wrong.  Other girls have sent me running for the hills, you didn't do that.  This has happened to me before, losing interest after 1-2 months.  Maybe I have issues with commitment.  Maybe I just get bored.  I know I have attachment issues. I know I do.  I've never gotten attached to a woman.  I've never been in a relationship.  I either lose interest or she ends up being crazy and I end things.  But either way, I'm maybe sad for a moment but since I never got attached in the first place, I don't feel bad. I just shut down and move on with my life.  I thought Disneyland would be a good gauge for us. I thought one of three things would happen: you'd either do something to send me running for the hills, I'd like you the same, or I'd become attached and feel closer to you.  You didn't scare me off but I'm not attached either, I just like you the same, and that's when I knew it was time to end things.  Maybe it was because of our schedules.  I know we couldn't help it, but our schedules sucked and I think seeing you once every eight or nine days stopped me from getting attached.  And the distance between us didn't help either.  Yes we talked everyday but it wasn't enough. I don't know about you, but sometimes after we got off the phone I just felt bored.  And I know we took turns driving, and I used to not mind it at all because I was excited to see you, but it came to a point where I just didn't want to do it anymore. I think that's what stopped me from getting attached.  The schedules and the distance."  

Wow.  So many thoughts.  For one, thanks for that heads up about your attachment issues.  Little late on that Red Flag.  If I knew you were this damaged, I wouldn't be sitting here crushed.  

Second, the only thing I expected out of Disneyland was to have a great time with you.  I didn't come away liking you more.  I came away having had a good time.  Disneyland is not that magical, you're not going to fall in love with me on Pirates of the Caribbean.  It's a theme park.  

Thirdly, Ouch. Bored? Not worth the drive? Thanks for that. In the beginning we had very similar schedules and I offered to make mine match yours completely.  But you changed your schedule to one that you knew would make us see each other less, saying "it wouldn't be a problem for us."  No, you had it right the first time. You have attachment issues and you're broken and damaged.  It wasn't the distance or the schedule.  It was you.  

I sat there staring at this guy I've dated for four months, someone I actually cared, watching his body language, listening to what he's saying, listening to his tone and it's clear.  He's already detached himself from me.  It's like talking to a completely different person.  In less than two days he disconnected.  He's sitting far away, upright and serious like he's on an interview.  There's no sympathy or compassion in his eyes, his voice and words are cold and harsh.  There's no empathy.  I'm not his missing puzzle piece, I'm not the girl who made him so noticeably happy, I'm just that girl he dated two days ago.  

I decide to give it one last shot.  If this is going to be the last day I ever see or speak to him, then I want to have no regrets. I'm gonna go down with the ship so I can sleep at night knowing there's nothing more I could have done.

"Do you think," I question, "that you could be pushing me away because of your attachment issue?  Maybe this is getting too real for you, maybe you do feel yourself getting close to me and you're instinctively pushing me away?  That maybe the trauma surrounding your parent's relationship ten years ago is causing you to react this way?  Because if it is and you recognize that you're doing that, then you can stop it."  I brace myself.

"It's possible. Because I know I have attachment issues." He pauses.  "But at the end of the day I asked myself, 'Do I really want to be your boyfriend and do I really want to continue on in this relationship?' and the answer is 'No.'"   

That's it.  I can't argue with that.  Tonight I won't have to sleep with a box of Kleenex by my bed wondering why I lost this great thing.  Instead I'm feeling lucky, like I dodged a bullet.  I could have been in love with him, when he was never capable of loving me back.  Do I believe that he didn't like me and lost interest?  No, I don't.  I think he was terrified.  But you know what? If you're too afraid of commitment, then you have no business being on a website with other people who are excited by relationships.

"Alright, well I gotta get going. Having lunch with the folks," he said and stood up.  As I walk him to the door I tell him to thank his parents for being so welcoming and treating me like a part of the family.  Tell your best friend congratulations and good luck on his wedding."  

"Yeah, I'm already having problems with that. There's this guy who doesn't know he's not invited yet and I have to be the one to break it to him and he's not going to be happy." 

He reaches out to give me a hug.  "Take care," I say.  

"Well you still have my number," he replies.  

Confused I say, "Um, yeah, but it's not like I'm going to be calling you."

He smiles, "Well then, if you ever get pulled over for a speeding ticket, feel free to name drop me.  Sixty percent of the time, it works every time."

Thanks?  

Do you know what the kicker to this story is?  That night as I went to bed I had a sudden gut feeling that the jerk was back online looking for love... and he was, with new photos- the ones I took of him in Disneyland.  As if there was a miracle girl that would magically fix him and allow him to feel.  God could create a woman just for Chuck, place her at his doorstep and he'd leave her.  And he doesn't even know how messed up he is, because if he did he would be in therapy, not online.  I laughed at something he wrote in his new profile:

Do you have close ties with your family? People come and go, but family is forever and I hope you have a good support system. (You're gonna need it after dating him.) If you'd like to know more about me, feel free to send me an email and let's see what could happen! (...A whole lotta nothing.)  

Two years later he was still single and his associates described him as socially awkward and not at all surprised he's alone.  Today, 2016, he is engaged to a girl he pretty much described on their wedding website as equally damaged and commitment-phobic.  That probably makes it a match made in heaven- they probably take turns being afraid of each other, each with a prepacked suitcase for a quit get away.  I should thank him, because he did me a favor.  With that I say, welcome back to the market.