Hitting Bottom: Two Years Later

"Hi, my name is Joe and I'm an alcoholic."

I have been saying that for a year and a half now. Long overdue for sure but at least it happened. I could sit here and replay the last two years of my life but I'll hit the major points:

- Got arrested

- Got a job

- Got arrested again

- Tried to commit suicide

- When to the "hospital" (mental health facility)

- Kinda sobered up (but not really)

- When to the hospital again (mental and the real one)

- Had it explained to me that if I kept drinking I was going to die

- Sober as of December 18, 2018

- Legal struggles because of choices (see above)

- Got fired (see above)

- Got a much less desirable job (see above)

- Began the process of un-fucking myself

- Survived the pandemic 

It's not really until I type this all out that the gravity of it hits me. 

So today, I thought about this blog and decided to take a stroll down memory lane. Yikes. A few notes:

- Some of these posts DID NOT age well. I used unfortunate terms but am leaving them for now. 

- Most of these posts I wrote while drunk. Ok, all of them. With that said, my grammar wasn't awful for being a fall down drunk. 

- If you are reading these and thinking "This guy is always blaming everyone else and nothing is ever his fault" you are 100% correct. 

With that being said, I am going to re-open the blog and write more. I cannot promise insights, political correctness, or answers to any issues but I plan on being sober. This time, I am aiming for an honest accounting of my dating life and if I am capable of "The Big Happy". 

I hope so. 

Katie

So anyway…

You don’t realize notice things until you write them down, or at least I don’t. Since I have been writing this blog on and off for the better part of 10 years, it has been a record of my personal and dating life. Some funny, some sad but it has allowed me to see the patterns of my life. As people, we go through trends both good and bad. In my case, I look at these relationships and try to make sense of it all. Maybe I am trying to solve the unanswerable equation: why in the fuck am I still dating and single at 37 years old? As I try to hash that out, I guess I should write about the end of my latest relationship.

Katie

I met Katie through Match.com because, in Mormon-laded Idaho Falls, that was the primary dating option. She was a single mom with a 6-year-old son and was working her way through college. She was pretty, brash, personable, and very driven. She was also three years older than me, which would be an issue as time went on.

As with anything, our relationship was fine in the beginning. She would come over, we would have sex and hang out like there was nothing else in the world but us. It’s really nice if you think about it. But reality would hit, she would go back to her place and I would sit in my apartment, alone. Well, not really alone. See, I had my friend alcohol to hang out with…so that problem was solved. As things progressed, I would eventually meet Katie’s son. She explained that he had emotional issues and occasional outbursts. Needless to say, he and I never really got along. This is hard to type but he wasn’t an easy kid to like. Emotional, rude, dramatic, explosive, and hurtful to his mom on a regular basis. These are all things that drove me crazy, but I said nothing at first. Months passed and as I felt more comfortable, I began to speak my mind. This never went well. Her son freaked out, Katie freaked out and everyone was miserable. You take this event and extrapolate it over three years and you’ll have an idea of daily life.

Between her job and her son, it was difficult to watch the toll it took on Katie. When we were stressed, we drank. When we were happy, we drank. Really, any excuse we could think of to drink…we did. As time progressed, my drinking continued until I became very sick. I spent months in the hospital and had several medical scares that almost killed me. I missed months of work and worried if life would ever be the same. As all of this was happening, there was another major event that took place: Katie got a new job. This was great news! A huge bump in pay but many more hours. Immediately, she became a different person. Stressed doesn’t even begin to quantify it. Her fuse became incredibly short and angry outbursts became the norm. I tried talking with her about this a few times, but it would go poorly most of the time. So, we didn’t talk about it. We ignored it and I drank even more. Mind you, I wasn’t supposed to, but I did anyway. Sure, we would “break up” a few times and some of my things were inevitably broken but time would pass, and we would be back to “normal” …other than the fact no one was happy.

Not happy? Buy a house! Not happy? Get married! Makes sense, right? So, we were going to do all of that and as the days got closer I began to think, “Do you want this to be the rest of your life?” Sadly, I contemplated these decisions while drunk and, in the process, making everything 1000% worse. April 25th, 2018, I pulled the plug on everything. The job, the wedding, the house…everything. After four years of it all, I was done. I was drinking myself to death. I was miserable. I wasn’t happy, and I was 1,600 miles away from all friends and family. I left almost everything I owned behind, still not sure I’ll ever see any of it again. I got in my car and went home.

The aftermath? Katie hates me, and rightfully so. I haven’t had a drop of alcohol in six weeks and no desire to drink anytime soon. I am looking for new employment and likely burned all professional bridges to a place I called home for a few years.

What now? Excellent question. Trying to figure that out. Sometimes, knowing what you don’t want is as important as knowing what you want. At least that is what I am telling myself in order to sleep tonight.

Review: Tinder

It dawned on me that it has been a while since I reviewed any new dating sites. As I reached this "revelation", I was busy swiping right on Tinder...so I am kind of slow on the uptake. Anyway...Tinder!

For those unaware, Tinder is an app for your phone that uses your Facebook profile and info to create a simple profile for you. The app which was originally used for hooking up is now a viable option for those in the dating world. And it's free (kinda, I'll explain later). My first reaction to Tinder: bizarre and superficial. Once you fire up the app it uses your location to find matches in your area. The only filter criteria you provide is the age range you're looking for and distance away from where you are located. As pictures appear, you swipe left to reject them or swipe right to accept them. If you both swipe right, boom! You are matched and can now communicate/text through the app.

I've struggled to write about Tinder because of my conflicted feelings on it. Sure, in one sense, it is easy, fun, and a quick way to check out potential matches. You can glance at a picture and in an instant, you can judge whether or not someone is worthy of our time. Yes, I think us single folk do a version of it constantly. (Scanning the crowd...attractive female...immediately glance at the ring finger...and fuck). But there is something much more shallow about Tinder to me. The swipes are a quiet acceptance or rejection without any real thought. I include myself in this and am guilty of it as well.

Here is a real-time analysis of some of my Tinder matches right now (ages and names were changed):
- Amber, 25 - very pretty and has a profile consisting of four words. SWIPE RIGHT
- Lindsay, 29 - Two similar interests from Facebook/no written profile. SWIPE LEFT
- Renee, 30 - no written profile, attractive, kids in every picture...hers? SWIPE LEFT
- Jenna, 37 - not attractive, lots of pictures of cats and kids...hers? SWIPE LEFT
- Sammie, 28 - very cute, tons of tattoos, one similar interest, no written profile. SWIPE RIGHT

What did I learn from this little experiment? I'm a terrible, superficial asshole. But isn't that what Tinder is about? Make judgments in the blink of an eye and onto the next one. The advances in technology have been amazing and have certainly changed how we meet and date other people. But is it a good thing? We screen and judge a potential mate solely on profile pictures, Facebook interests, and a few sentences. Swipe Left: out of my life, never to be seen again. Swipe Right: hang out in the "maybe" pile and we will see what happens.

I'm not saying it's all wrong but it does feel as though we have become our online "profiles" and are disposable/disposed of pretty easily.

As a person who just wrote down whether or not someone else is worthy of me and why...the Swipe Left of me is deserved.

Smoking! (And other reasons women have broken up with me)

I started to think about the reasons why women have given me the boot. Listed in no particular order:

- Because their mom told them to do so (see ex-wife)
- Because they don't see a future with me
- Because usually date guys who are "more fit" (This proves that honesty/best policy thing is bullshit)
- Because they have an ex they want to get back together with
- Because they love eating pussy way too much

(I made up one of those...you decide which)

But during my time in the land of "da' ho" I ran into two new ones:

- Because your mom is technically my boss
- Because smoking cigarettes is more important to me than "this"

Breakdown:

1) Yes, her mom is technically my boss. And by "technically" I mean she is. In short, mom found out we were dating and told her to call it off...and she did. Does this sound familiar? (See Because #1)

2) Because smoking is more important...this one was simply fascinating.

I met D on Match.com. She was spunky, cute, fun, non-Mormon, and smoked like a fucking chimney. Now, smoking is generally a deal-breaker for me BUT...I honestly had no other fucking options. We lived an hour apart and would hang out once a week or so. We would drink, she would smoke, and I would pretend it didn't bother me. Yes, I told her that I didn't care for it and that it did indeed bother me. She would go smoke away from me and I never said shit. Perfect, right? Other than this, we got along really well. We could communicate well, laugh, and generally enjoyed each other's company. This was until this past week when she had something important to tell me: she needs to smoke. And smoke regularly without feeling like I was judging her. I explained that I never said a word to her about it and she agreed. But D was clear, smoking was part of who she was as a person and she didn't feel I was supportive (I wasn't). So it was decided that I would drive my ass back home.

It's been a week since all this horseshit and I have no conclusions. I feel I was going to be wrong no matter what. Maybe the lesson is that I shouldn't make concessions when it comes to big things (apparently smoking counts). Maybe I should keep my mouth shut and accept people for who they are.

Maybe, I just need to fucking move.

Land of (No) Opportunity

I have to admit that I never really struggled. Sure, we grew up dick poor but for the most part, I was surrounded by other lower-middle-class white kids who were in the same boat as me. But being part of a small rural town, I was always part of the majority. A few months back, I moved to the state of Idaho for the following reasons:

1) It has been close to four years since I had graduated college and despite a few close calls, I had no teaching jobs to show for it. So when Idaho offered me a job, I went.

(End of reasons)

So I packed up my meager belongings, left everything I had ever known, and moved to a state I knew nothing about. Chief among the things I didn't fully understand was that my new hometown was chock-full of Mormons (80% per capita). Being the good atheist that I am, I can honestly say that I didn't give a single fuck about that. People are people, beliefs are beliefs, and let's all just move on with our shit.

How wrong I was.

See, no one is impolite. Ever. Friendly to a fault but at a distance. General help throughout the workday? Absolutely. Invite you over for dinner? Fuck to the no. From what I have gathered, once they decide you aren't in the tribe...you are over there. So for the first time in my life, I am the outsider...the guy who isn't the "norm". Again, I have my non-LDS friends but we are the outliers. I have my 10,000 hours of non-Mormon believing down cold (Thanks, Malcolm).

So...how does this apply to dating? (See above).

I feel like an ass for previously complaining about a lack of opportunities in the dating pool. They do not exist where I live. When I mentioned 80% of the population is Mormon above, this was not a plea for sympathy...that is a stat from the U.S. Census. Yes, this was my own doing and necessary for where I want to go in my career. But it did something else for me that I never truly appreciated: loneliness. I have been alone for the better part of a decade since my divorce, so I get being alone. And apart from a handful of relationships, I am comfortable being by myself. But being here has made me understand what it is to be without the opportunity to meet someone. It feels as if I am advancing a year of my professional life while placing a year of my personal life on hold.

The problem is that a decade of being alone is starting to feel like a habit and another year in an environment that only fosters that...scares the fuck out of me.

Reviewing Past Relationships and What Went Wrong (Me?)

I'll open with this: the Mormons are much better people than I will ever be....much. Kind, polite, not drunk, and generally nice to others. Sure, they carry the stigma of the "magic underwear" but the fact remains that if you had to be surrounded by a group different than your own, you could do considerably worse than the Mormon population.

With that said, they kinda suck. When I say "suck", I mean it in the nicest way possible. They don't drink, gamble, swear, or have sex before marriage...which are all things I enjoy. This isn't really a problem until you remember that you live in a city that has, per capita, more Mormon individuals than Salt Lake City, Utah. To someone (me) who lacks a moral compass and a general sense of right/wrong...the fit isn't there.

How does this apply to the dating world and me? I took the time (I have lots, see above) and decided to map-out the main relationships I have been in. I will use a scale of 1 to 10: 1 being completely and utterly marriage material but boring as shit and 10 being a crazy bitch BUT tons of fun (she will never meet mom).

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Destiny: 1 out of 10. This is unfortunate ways, chief among them that I was married to her for three years. She wasn't mean, nor was she nice or affectionate. Sex was a chore, as was being married to me. She is married now with a kid, so he got her drunk enough to manage the job once.

Trey: 9 out of 10. Fuck, Trey was hot. I am not but she somehow decided to sleep with me. Trey was a victim of "being hot, not knowing how to fuck, and hating her life", which was a dangerous combination. She was kinda mean, demanding, and wasn't afraid to express how unhappy she was at any given moment. Did I mention that she was hot? So hot...

Barb: 4 out of 10. Barb also hated me but she also disclosed an STD early on, which complicated matters. No, this doesn't make her a bad person. Honestly, it was soon after my divorce and I was all fucked up. I didn't handle this one well. She was a nice person. Just don't tell me about your STD over breadsticks at the goddamn Olive Garden.

Heidi: 5 out of 10. I never really figured Heidi out. She had kids, liked to have sex with me...and her ex-husband. She was beautiful, fun, and continually it clear that we were just a "thing". I think I was just a thing to her, which sounds nice in theory. I got attached and she bugged out...until she wanted to have sex again. Have six short months of meaningless sex, I half-heartedly put an end to this. (See, I'm a terrible person.)

Kristen: 6 out of 10. I liked Kristen but she was super dumb. Not in a "She needs to experience life" kinda way; more like "she ate paint clips as a kid". Kristen adored me but fell victim to being too similar to my ex-wife. Not an original thought in her head did what mom and dad said into her late 20's and had no ambition. But she was fun and if I weren't me, it could have worked. But I'm me and it didn't. She married a 300 lb truck driver and seems to be happy. There is no joke there, that's all factually correct.

Jessica: 8 out of 10. It got intense fast of Jessica, which I mistook for the real thing. But she loved drama and cheating on her husband with me. In a different world and time, it would have worked out with Jessica...(UPDATE: Yeah, tried recently with Jessica again to remember that she majors in drama. When it is exciting and scary, you tend to ignore these things. Did I mention I'd probably never trust her?)

Jill: 9 out of 10. Jill got me...which freaked my shit out. Jill was funny, beautiful, and a fuck-ton smarter than I was. This I attribute to bad timing and me being an emotional post-divorce disaster. I liked Jill a lot and my mom would've as well. But Jill moved across the country and we never spoke again. Probably best that way.

Shannon: 10 out of 10. Shannon was badass. Fun, sexy, smart and could read me like a book...which scared the fuck out of me. I loved Shannon and she loved me back...we were going to be together. What happened? I assume that I happened. This one still causes a little pain in my stomach. She is married now, so I hope she is happy. I really do.

The problem with Shannon wasn't her...it was the guy who is pathetic enough to write blog posts about his exes and rank them.

Match.com Date Review: T

For reasons I don't fully understand, I decided to re-up my Match.com membership. (Quick tip: Sign up for a month, then go to cancel membership. When it asks why, click the box that says "I cannot afford it" and it'll then ask you "Could you afford it at a lower price?" Click yes, and it'll offer you 3 months for the price of 1. You're welcome) I have been a little down on Match lately because I haven't had much success of late. Which means I am holding something against them that is not their fault, I get it. Anyway, I decided to cast my line out there and try again. Within the first few days I began exchanging emails with T. She was my age, no kids, same education/sense of humor/religious beliefs....yada, yada, yada. After a week we begin exchanging texts and make plans to meet for drinks. We met last Thursday night and much to my surprise, she looked exactly like her pictures and conversation came easily! (Us veteran Match.comers know that these two attributes on a first date are kind of a rarity). The night progresses and all is going well, we laugh and talk about what we will do on our next date. We both had drinks but neither of us sloppy drunk, just slightly buzzed. As the night ends, I walk her to her car and she leans in for a kiss...which promptly turns into a full-blown make-out session. Finally, we pry ourselves apart and call it a night. We text Friday and Saturday and all is going well. Sunday (today), I received a text that says "I hope this isn't awkward but I went out on a date with someone else and it is going to progress. You are a nice guy. Take care." Yes, I know people date others and sometimes it doesn't work out when it feels like it should. But I can't explain why this one bothered me as much as it did. Maybe my sense of the entire situation was off or maybe she regretted kissing me after the date...who knows. All I know is this: I understand less about the dating world at 32 than any other time in my life. And really, I don't need to understand everything...I just want to know how to make it work. More than anything, I'm just tired of the dating carousel. I'd like to get off now, please.

I can't give it away these days...

In the past, I have written about being outgoing and shedding older versions of myself in order to meet people (read: women). The past four months have been among the oddest of my life, in summary:

-Added certifications to make me more employable (Which seems to have had the opposite effect)
-Pursed a job where I stay unsuccessfully sober and serve drinks to drunk chicks (Married, fat, old drunk chicks)
-Lost approximately 25lbs (No need for congrats here. When people congratulate you for losing weight, all they're saying is, "Look at you, being less disgusting and shit." 

In spite of all these developments, I have been on a dating/meeting women cold streak that I cannot fully explain. Over the past few years, I have broken many old self-defeating habits: avoiding eye contact, avoiding public places, and being too afraid to initiate conversation. I now believe I am a decent looking guy, with most of my teeth, no (domestic) felonies, and who may have something to offer to someone.

And I'm getting NOTHING in response. Polite smiles, thanks but no thanks, and the crowd favorite of being totally ignored. Even in the world of online dating, my batting average is worse than a gay Puerto Rican waiter (Shit...they play a lot of baseball in Puerto Rico...bad example). I send out my usual emails where I try and be funny and while I know that you won't hear back from all of them...a response from one out of 22 goddamn emails sent would be nice.

Match.com: The Log-in Game

As a savvy veteran of the Match.com world, I've learned many a difficult lesson about women who over-share, those who post old photos and etiquette about how to treat a one-night stand (always offer to buy her breakfast....I'm old-fashioned like that.)

But lately there is one I just started paying attention to: The Log-in Game. Let me explain:

Let's say you're seeing someone but you're in that weird/in-between zone (dates four through six) where you're cool and have no interest in dating anyone else but neither is saying if you're only dating one another.  You think you are but...well, no one has brought it up, likely out of fear of being weird about it. So with this paranoia firmly in place, you occasionally log onto Match.com and click their profile...and see that they've been on within the hour. Hmm...

From here, there are a few moves:

1) Douche Move: "I saw you're getting on Match, what's up? Are you talking to other guys?"
-This seems to work really well for the insecure ass-clowns. Not my speed.

2) Cool Guy Move: "So, umm, we're cool and all, but are we cool?"
-This isn't an awful move but eye contact and the tone of your voice are key. She'll either know that you're asking about your mutual status...or assume you're trying to buy weed from her.

3) No Move: No insertion of hilarious, cleaver, witty fake quote here. Nope. Just don't say shit.


No answers to this one for me yet...Unless...

What if she's getting on Match to see if I'm getting on Match?

Wow, man...that shit was deep. Maybe I should see if she will sell me some of that weed after all...

Fake numbers, no responses, and other shit these lesbians are pulling...

I wrote a blog post once called "The Stink of Failure" which looking back, had very little to do with that. It was more about trying new things, having some balls and making changes. It was awe-inspiring stuff...no really, go read it...

And I have been taking my own advice since becoming single again and most things have worked out pretty well. I'm training for a 5k race in May (I totally recognize that the fact that when one needs to train in order to run 3.1 miles is extraordinarily sad) and re-activated my Match.com account. But...

The results have sucked thus far. First, there was a girl we will call Katie because that's her name. We emailed, sent texts, and finally agreed to meet for coffee. Amazingly, things seemed to go really well; we talked, laughed, and seemed to have plenty to say for over two hours. At the end of the date, we hugged and she said, "Let's do something again, I had fun. Text me that you got home safe." And like a dumbshit...I did just that. I got home and texted her back saying that I did make it home, that it was fun meeting her, and that I looked forward to hanging out again. Her response: We're still waiting. That was FIVE FUCKING days ago. And thanks to iMessage and the "read message notification" I know she saw it.

A few days later, I met friends for a few beers and one of the girls in a neighboring booth struck up a conversation with me. Since we were all drinking I was funnier than usual and definitely more attractive. As we all prepared to leave, I asked to call her...she smiled, wrote down her number, and said, "That sounds like fun." Two days later I called...and got the voicemail for a guy who works for Consumers Energy. Double checked the handwriting and my dialing...

So here's the question: What in the blue fuck is going on?

To the first girl: It's cool if you aren't interested but don't fucking give signals like "We should hang out again" and "Let me know you got home okay" because that shit is confusing. I get not wanting to reject someone to their face but you know an even better option? Don't say anything other than "Thank you" and I will get the hint.

To the second girl: I had three beers but was by no means hammered (Oh, I'll show you drunk...) Is a fake number better than lying to me and saying that you have a boyfriend/girlfriend/transgendered partner? Or even easier, don't initiate the goddamn conversation. 

The obvious issue here: all these fucking lesbians leading on the straight men. Go play some softball and knock that shit off.

Epic(ly bad) First Date

So I re-joined Match.com and have been chatting with Sabrina; who is attractive, has a great job, and claims to have an amazing sense of humor. So plans were made for us to have drinks today. I walk in the door at 5:54pm (this will be important later)...

We meet and she actually looks like her pictures, which is a nice change of pace for me. But then something odd happens when I ask her a question about her Easter dinner, she answers it...with three fucking words, "It was fine." Hmm, okay, so I ask if she did anything fun while home with her family this weekend, her response "Not really."

And so it went for the next half hour, I ask an open-ended question and receive an answer that was anywhere from one to five words in length....followed by silence. I didn't even get the unimaginative follow-up question of, "What about you?" and even "You?" was too much to ask.

After 20 minutes of this, she finally offers "I don't have much to say sometimes." No shit Socrates, I did that math. I asked her if she wanted another drink, to which she literally shrugged her fucking shoulders, couldn't even utter a syllable. I took this as my cue, called for the check, paid it like an asshole, and mercifully, the date ended.

I got back into my car and the clock read 6:32pm.

The lesson here: If you're on an awful date, you know you'll NEVER see this person again and she offers to split the check...don't be an asshole...split the check.

Dating Advice: How to talk to Women

A few years ago, if you had told me I would ever write about talking to women, I would've assumed you meant comatose ladies or my grandmother. So why the sudden change? Did I learn a magical secret or a magic pick-up line that has them waiting around the block? Nope. What changed? The answer is two-fold:

1) I got older.
2) I stopped giving a fuck.

Here is a breakdown of my thought process whenever there was a woman I found attractive and wanted to talk to:

"Wow, she is hot." -> "I bet she has a boyfriend." -> "What would I say?" -> "You know, she probably wouldn't be interested." -> "Not only am I not going to talk to her, but I'm also relieved that I saved myself the rejection."

And you know what? I was right, I didn't get rejected hardly ever. I also spent a lot of time alone, bitching about not meeting anyone. I was SO afraid of being rejected that I didn't try unless I had a belly full of booze (In fairness to me, I'm a charming drunk).

In my case, I had already played out the self-defeating end that I often didn't try at all. I was so afraid of being told no to my face, that I didn't want to risk having my worst fears validated.

Anyway, this is a long lead-up to the point of this post: Here is how you talk to women:

1) Practice. Spent a day and talk to FIVE women you find attractive. This isn't to say you'll ask them all out on a date because you won't. The point is initiating a conversation about ANYTHING. Let's say you are shopping for groceries and you see an attractive girl staring at a product...make a comment, "I had those, they suck/were great." Did you actually try them? Fuck no. And while a small white lie, you opened the door. How likely is it you're told to fuck off and die? Not very. How likely is it that she smiles, says thanks, and moves on? 98th percentile. Damn good odds. The more you do it, the better you'll get...WHICH IS JUST LIKE EVERY OTHER GODDAMNED THING IN LIFE!

2) Say hi and smile. That my friends is the magic pick-up line. Not "You're as fine as..." or "You're so hot..." nope. Say hi. Then have something else to say, ideally not an ethnic slur and something relevant to something. Will they all go well? Not a fucking chance. You'll get blank stares, short answers, and sometimes generally bitch-like behavior. What do you do then? Smile, take a deep breath and move on...bullet dodged. Regardless of how "hot" a girl is, would you really want to be with someone who treated a stranger like that?

3) Worst case scenario: I went up to a girl once and she told me that she didn't date "bigger" guys (Read: lose some weight, fat ass). Honestly, this fucked me up for a while. It wasn't until I recounted this tale to a professional therapist who said, "Wow, what a bitch." She was totally right. What a bitch. Was the problem that I was fat? Sure, I could stand to lose a few lbs...but to respond like that? Wow, what a cunt. Is that a reflection on me or her? You know the answer.

4) Be polite and nice but give them a little shit. This isn't an invitation to comment on her fat ass or anything but I mean more like this: after she quietly disagrees with you about something "Thanks for screaming at me..." You know what she'll likely do? Go on the defensive and continue the conversation. If she flips out and causes a scene, you just saved yourself months of her being an uptight bitch in the event she DID like you back. Whew...bullet dodged.

5) If the answer is no, or blowing you off...fuck it, move on. Will you see this person every day? Nope. (Unless this is a boss or co-worker, then tread lightly...)

This a super cliche way to end this but here it goes: If you never try, you've already lost. Sure, it won't always work out, those are the odds of life. But if you never do, you'll never know.

Second, worst-case scenario: You flattered a pretty girl with a boyfriend, gained some experience talking to women, and maybe made a friend.

We aren't on this planet very fucking long. Don't regret not walking up to someone, smiling and saying, "Hi, my name is..."

Dating Advice: When it should be but isn't...

I write this as my buddy is in my apartment sleeping on my couch. He is a successful guy who has provided for his wife and children through hard work. And on paper, he married the ideal woman: attractive and from wealth. On paper, it all made perfect sense.

I met a woman a few months back who on paper, made sense for me. Low drama, attractive, kind considerate....really many of the things that most would look for in a partner. But for some (or many) reasons it just didn't work. I spent lots of time trying to convince myself that it should work and that at 31 I needed to buy-in, but I couldn't.

In the past, I fell victim to the idea of "good enough". There were times I wasn't happy but because an attractive woman wanted to be with me, I ignored many red flags. As a friend once said, "You start ignoring red flags and one day you look down and see a huge pile of red flags..."

So why doesn't it work? More importantly, when it doesn't with someone it should, why do we blame ourselves? In my case, I felt bad that I didn't like my ex as much as she liked me. I've been ruined by the few "sparks" I have felt with someone in the past. You meet someone and know in an instant that there is something there. Your heart races, you smile and blush a lot and start thinking crazy thoughts about what your life would be like with this new person. In short, it can be amazing.

But...there are the other times. We get lonely. We questions our self-worth and in turn think "Why would anyone else love me?" So we go back to bad relationships, forgetting the awful past and romanticizing the good times. We seek out the bad people who we know will accept us. We take the easiest road and open ourselves to more pain.We go back to the people who have hurt us, essentially asking, "Thank you sir, may I have another?!!?"

The point: If you're with someone and you know it isn't there, don't hang on hoping for change. Hell, none of us should expect change. We need to believe in ourselves and look for those who ignite that spark and bring out the best in us. It may be time consuming and lonely at times but we owe it to ourselves to no longer take less when we deserve in a partner. Let's be decent to ourselves.

Review: OkCupid.com (I'm going to hell...)

So I passed this AMAZING blog idea onto my good friend Katie of http://gingermaryann.wordpress.com/ and she totally passed, so I am taking this ball and running with it. Ok, more likely that I'll run really fast for 20 yards, then slow down, then take a break, and finally jog slowly after remembering that I am wildly out of shape.

Anyway, based on the page views I get it appears that people only give a shit when I write about other dating sites and porn. (Side note: Apparently, I'm HUGE in Turkey. So to Turkey, I say, "How do you doin', Turkey? Look at you being Muslim but not being dicks about holding women back. Plus, democracy, not too bad, right?)

Anyway, my review of OkCupid:

This isn't the first time I have been on this site. A few years ago I was on and met a lady. And by "met" I mean she said hi and started sending me naked pictures. I'll be honest, up until this point I wasn't entirely sure women like this actually existed. We finally agreed to meet for coffee on a Sunday morning. Within an hour we were headed back to my place and had some sexual relations. And within an hour of that, she was headed back home...we never spoke again. Weird? Fo sho. Random? Yup. Cool? Kinda, but it was in my "Top Five Weirdest Moments Ever."(Also included: the time I accidentally touched Sponge Bob Square Pants inappropriately and night in Vegas that involved three different continents). 

Since Match.com costs money and I'm without a job (thanks for fuck-all, college degree), I decided to explore the free options. I'll say this for OkCupid: it's not PlentyOfFish.com (later post). OkCupid makes you set up the standard profile with a picture and asks you questions about yourself. After you answer 25 of these questions, the website generates a compatibility percentage for you and gives you three matches (aka The Quiver). As you answer more questions, the site reveals how compatible you are with each person, which is kind of cool.

What the site also tells you are the chances are that your "Match" will reply to your message.
In short, welcome back to Middle School, Motherfucker. You can read a profile, like someone but see that they are "VERY selective about who they respond to". Well hell, I was feeling good until I read that bullshit. So like it or not, I factor that in before messaging anyone.

And here is where shit gets weird: I see a girl I went to high school with, which unto itself, isn't very interesting. That is until I remember that she is the girl who my buddy, Mike, lost his virginity to. Suddenly, my mind, which has been battered by poor decisions and alcohol over the years, remembers every goddamn detail of them having sex. She liked sex in public. She liked sex often. In summation: she liked to hump. A lot. At 31 years old, I should be able to think about something other than that, right? Nope. I eventually decide not to message her because the word is that Mike has warts on his ding dong. Is it true? Were they from her? Does Mike like Asian whores? I could not produce answers, so I decide to move on.

Anyway, the site is okay but I have no idea if it produces results other than random coffee shop sex.

You're probably thinking, "Wow, pretty shitty review...seems like nothing more than an excuse to tell a story about some random sex you had and to talk about a girl from high school..."

Hi, have we met?

Stir events by Match.com - Part Three: This is starting to get sad

For reasons I am still trying to understand, I decided to make a third trip into the wilderness that is a Stir event by Match.com. If you are new to my exploits in this arena...well, if I knew how to link shit, I would do so now, but I don't. Either way, they are there under previous posts. But to summarize:

1st time: Met up with my friends girlfriend, who wasn't exactly acting like she had a boy friend.

2nd time: Came with friend whose now ex-girlfriend was there last time. Met someone but after 3 months, that relationship came to an end. Why you ask? She didn't read so good, or at all really. She shared intimate details of our sex life with her ENTIRE family (mom, dad, three sisters). And finally, when we had a disagreement once (not a fight, no voices were raised, no names were called, no accusations were made) she responded by curling up into a ball and sobbing uncontrollably for an hour.

And well, the other night was the 3rd trip to Stir.

I decided to fly solo this time, since my buddy has found himself a girlfriend and I couldn't beg anyone to come with me...you know, I had options n' shit.

Now a veteran of these events, I left with many observations and what-not:

- I saw drunk girl dancing alone, again. She has made appearances at the other events, always shit-house drunk by the time things began and hitting on every guy there. The weird thing? She's very attractive. I couldn't tell you if she was smart or not because she slurred like a stroke victim. Either way, glad she was there.

- 40 year-old dude wearing a baseball cap was there. Listen Billy Jack, every knows you are bald, it's cool. You are fooling no one with the hat. Either shave your head or take the goddamn hat off.

- The husky Indian chick (convenience stores, not casinos) who I made every attempt to escape the last time I there and actually asked "Why did we never hang out?" The reason why not doesn't matter, you being a glutton for punishment is what fascinates me. Do you remember being dismissive of what I did for a living? Or telling me dumb people watch TV, after I told you I loved TV? You fall into one of two categories: liar or stupid, which is it?

- Many people cannot take a hint. Lucky for me, I learned early on when women weren't interested in me (Ok, it was 7th and 8th grade dances and the fact that any girl, let alone a mildly attractive one caused me to sport a boner hard enough to cut glass. So looking back...yeah, that was probably a factor.) But I watched men and women continue to bombard the opposite sex with questions when that person was making it painfully obvious they were not interested. I commend persistence, this isn't to say I understand it, but it is respectable. Either way, raise the self-awareness a touch and move on.

Anyway, my night ended with no real prospects on the horizon but I did get a blog post out of it.

More importantly, I'm curious to hear about the experiences that others have had at these events. Leave a comment and go wild, spare no embarrassing details. Note: it will show that I have to approve all comments now because some ass-clown posts spam ads for boner pills on everything I put up.

To this person, who speaks English as well as a Vietnamese hooker: I hope your grandmother is attacked by an AIDS infested wolverine, you pathetic shit.

I'm me...and other reasons I'm an ass

If you ever want to know what someone REALLY thinks about you, just break up with them. Within a matter of minutes, that person is more than willing to share every flaw you've ever had, or they thought you had. Few too many pounds? Listen up, fat ass. Too sarcastic? You're dead inside.

(Not saying these aren't accurate...hell, she is likely smarter than I thought...)

So what did I really learn: knowing when it's all wrong is just as important as when it is going right. Sure. given that I am 31 going on 14, my opinion on life skills is questionable at best...but...I feel confident about this one.

I couldn't say one thing wrong with my ex...oh sure if you want to bring out the bleaching, or the fact that she didn't read so good...you could have a point. But the fact remained that she is and was a very nice, sweet, caring individual. So in the name of journalistic integrity, I asked the most unbiased person I know...my mom.

(Full disclosure: If I decided to murder 13 slow senior citizens with a soup ladle next Thursday, my mom would be first in line for visiting hours the following week.)

Mom's take: "Well...you're a person who needs...space. And you need a person who doesn't need your input. Well, you're going to give your input but that person shouldn't care what you have to say."

That is from the woman who gave birth to me. 

The point: After several months in a serious relationship, I can't say that I know what a great relationship is but I know what it isn't.

Most importantly, mom said I'm very handsome.

Baggage v. Knowledge

I was initially going to title this one "Beast of Burden", then I remembered that I hated that Rolling Stones song. And it didn't mean what I thought it meant. Thanks for nothing, books.

I have a friend that I work with professionally but we never talk about work. This isn't to say work isn't important, God knows it is, but we avoid that shit. No, we talk about relationships, our involvement, and how we've played a role in fucking them up. Oh sure, we take time to spread around the blame but usually it circles back around to the real problem: us.

The problem, in both of our cases, in the past. This is often referred to as baggage and as cliche, as it has become to say we all avoid it, we cannot. Yes, we all have a past but I've learned that my life experiences, which for good or bad have shaped me; are officially the problem of the next person I date. I have an ex-wife, a strange childhood, and other fucked up shit that I eventually place upon someone else. It's not really a question of when it happens (Week 11 if you're scoring at home) but when. 

On the other hand, an optimist would say that yes, I have made my mistakes but they've made me the man I am today and I am better for them. I was able to take lemons, squeeze the shit out of them, and bitter lemon juice, with seeds and shit. Anyway, these are my past and apart of my story.

The point: another relationship is about to come to a close, and depending on which paragraph above you subscribe to, the fact remains that yes, I am the problem. This is a perfectly nice, sweet, considerate, attractive individual and really, I don't have one great reason. We all have some foibles that society has deemed undesirable (looking at you, anal warts), but this three-month-long relationship is about to end because more than anything, being with her reminds of my being married to my ex-wife. I wish I could run her down, make disparaging remarks about the cleanliness of her vag...but no, being with her brings back bad memories from the past.

Shallow? Maybe.
Immature? Likely.
Oblivious? Not the first time.

So I'll move on, with questionable reasoning, onto whatever is next.

Funny...as I wrote this, there is a Todd Snider lyric that continued to bounce around in my head:
"But I feel like I oughta be praying or something; And I have no idea what to say"

When it goes...right?

My friend, Kate (http://disappointedlove.wordpress.com/) and I had a funny exchange on Facebook chat last night. The crux of the conversation was this: why is that when those of us who have written extensively about relationships, dating and everything else get into a relationship...well, we run out of things to say. One of my finer qualities (other than my unnaturally huge dong) is my ability to bitch and complain. Hell, if I ran a country bitching and complaining would be our national pastime.

But now I am in a relationship and things are good. As much as we all enjoy the newness of meeting someone, I am enjoying being comfortable and myself with someone. And that person, for whatever reason, digs me.

You know that you've been in bad relationships before when you're overwhelmed by the basic kindness shown to us by others. Small gifts, considerate gestures and many other little things I missed along the way when I was younger.

I don't know where this is headed but I know I am enjoying the ride. A younger version of my (still well hung) self spent time seeking perfection in someone else because of my own insecurities. But now? I seek comfort, kindness and quiet.

(But seriously...it's like a Pringles can down there...)

Review: Stir by Match.com - Part Deux

After the last Match.com Stir event, I had reservations about going back. Nothing about it was terrible, except for the fact that I saw my friend's girlfriend there and confronted her. On the bright side, I now had a newly single friend to bring along.

(Side note: These events are SO much more fun and easier when you bring a wingman along with you.)

My buddy and I made our way to another bar in the Grand Rapids area and entered the event and surveyed the landscape. Much like the last gathering, there was pretty much a 50/50 male/female split and it really covered all age ranges.

(A quick note about my buddy: he is in his early 40's and tall. Like 6'5" tall. As I would soon find out, his size brings out the aggressive nature in ladies.)

As we stood there with our beers and checked out the scene, we were approached by two ladies: Amanda, 34, blond hair, built like a butt plug (that's not a compliment) and Marie, 51, rail-thin, pathetic and REALLY likes tall guys. After 10 minutes of polite conversation, Marie turns to my buddy and offers "I bet I could climb you, mind if I try?" No one laughed. My buddy looks at me with confusion and then we all look at Marie, who is smiling. This chick was serious.

(Stir lesson: Know when to leave. If you aren't interested be polite and pull that goddamn ripcord.)

After a less than gracious departure from Buttplug & Marie (Worst morning radio show ever), we were soon corralled by a collection of five insurance agents. They were a pretty forgettable group (three of them were married, so that was....confusing) except for Sandy, who was short, stout, and aggressive. She fired questions at me like I was in a job interview: "Where do you work? What do you read? Do you travel?" Instead of allowing me to answer, she answered and then offered her take on her question. Example: "Do you watch TV? I think TV is for dumb people. Successful people looking to climb the C-Ladder do not watch TV." When I told her that I love TV she actually responded, "So you don't want to be successful?"

I will deal with a lot but I will not let anyone besmirch the good name of television.

(Stir lesson: Don't insult people. Just shut up and move on.)

At this point, I made the decision to literally turn my back on this chick, without knowing who or what was standing behind me. The who, as it turns out, was Kristen: cute, funny, friendly and knowledgeable about Detroit Tigers baseball. We started to talk and it just flowed; she asked me questions and seemed to care about the answers. What "it" is, she and I had it.

Meanwhile, Buddy was caught up in the circle of insurance agents, fighting for his life.

(Stir lesson: Again, don't be afraid to politely cut bait. Buddy learned this the hard way.)

My night drew to a close, I asked to see Kristen again and she said yes.
That was two weeks ago and we have hung out as much as possible. We find the same things funny, are both laid back, have drastically different tastes in music BUT...it is going really well.

So, for those considering a Match event, there are all kinds of people out there: tall, short, nice, aggressive, young, old, fat, skinny, and buttplugs. Ideally, there is one who will click.

But for the love of Baby Jesus, watch out for the climbers...

Review: Stir by Match.com

I'm a member of Match.com and lately these motherfuckers have been bombarding me with emails for their "events" to meet others known as "Stir". I decided that I needed something to do, meet some people and frankly, I needed something to write about...so I signed up to go.

The idea is this: Match rents out the room of a nice bar, fills it with single people, gets them hammered and calls it a success. Tonight I made my way into the nice bar to find a partially crowded section of people and surprisingly, it was not all dudes. (Fear #1: Sausage Fest! Sure there will be single people but it will be all weird dudes). Actually, as the night went on there were many single women. Or should I say, packs of single women (Yes, I get the irony of using "packs" and "single" in the same sentence).

I made my way to the bar and surveyed the scene: everyone had broken off into small groups and was chatting, so the "7th Grade Dance" theory I told Kat about was immediately out the window. But the first thing I noticed was the two people in wheelchairs. Ok, I'm seriously not a shitty person but it was funny because it was a man and a women, opposite sides of the bar and I distinctly heard some lady ask the guy "Are you guys here together?" I don't care, that is comedy at its finest. Outside of the two showboats, there was the normal collection of characters: drunk college chicks, drunk college dudes, the aforementioned pack of women who grilled every guy who dared talk to one of the pack, and everyone else who was drunk.

I made my way around the room and found it was easier just to go up and talk to women because I knew they were single. This sounds simple but it does something for your confidence knowing that person is available. And when it doesn't work out, you are oddly okay because you just start talking to someone else. The one anomaly of this event is that there is always someone else to talk to. Yeah, you are having a great time as is the person you're chatting with but you are both kind of looking around and wondering if there is someone else better suited for you. From what I could tell from the people I spoke with; there is a lot of talking and moving one but few connections. And if there are connections, the question becomes, "what do I do now?" because that person you've been talking to is watching you talk to another person.

This was all fine and fun until I run into someone I knew. Sure, we would all fear seeing a co-worker or relative but it ended up worse for me: I saw my friends girlfriend. I ended up meeting and talking to their group of friends and she made it clear that: a) she did not remember meeting me and b) that she felt she was single. It's worth noting that this event was 45 minutes away from where I live and where my friend lives. As we all chatted, she told me she was excited to be there and meet so many "new guys".

Fuck.

I stepped into the bathroom and texted my friend,
"How are things with your lady?" 
Him: "Good. Why?"
Me: "Fuck. I'm at a single event, she is here."
Him: "Tell her I said hi."

I emptied my bladder and contemplated my next move. I left the bathroom and found her again.

"Hey, I remembered where I know you from...I'm Joe. We've met..." And before I could finish my sentence, she remembered me.

She uttered a few expletives and then stammered "You aren't going to tell him, are you?"
I said nothing.
She said "I'm just here for moral support for my friends."
I said nothing.
She said "I told him I was in Grand Rapids, I just didn't say why..."
For once in my life, I got to have my movie moment when I said, "You're fucked."

I paid my tab and left.

Did I meet the love of my life? Nope.

And while I had to deliver difficult news to a friend, it was nice to remember that I was a good friend and maybe a decent person. All in all...a solid outing.

I hope the wheelchair people ended up fucking tonight...

The Art of the Setup

Sometimes you write things because you have something important to say. Other times, you write something because you feel it is informative or entertaining.

I have written before about some of the failed attempts that friends have made in setting me up with others. From the male perspective, these setups fall into one of three categories:

1) The Buddy Setup: 99.8% of the time this is about one of your friends wanting to hook you up with a chick that: either shot his weak game down or is the friend of a girl he is trying to fuck and knows that you can be an ass(et) to him getting some. These are great for most dudes because your brain works in a similar fashion to your buddies: you like to fuck and you really like women who like to drink and take their shirts off. Everyone wins. And in the event the Buddy Setup fails, you still win because your buddy understands why the setup happened in the first place...to get some sex for his friend.

2)The Couple Setup: Damn, this one happens a lot and actually happened to me tonight. I have this friend who I'll call DJ (because that's his real name, I'll sell you his address and Social Security number for $23). He sent me a text tonight asking if I was single and if I was interested in meeting his wife's sister. Listen, I have known DJ since middle school and love him dearly. We played high school football together and I have seen him naked more times than I can count. With that said, we don't talk a lot. We offer each other trades in fantasy football but we don't talk just to say hi, and we are both cool with this arrangement.

So did DJ suddenly start caring about my dating life? Shit no. But you know what he does care about? His wife fucking him this week. So when she asked him if he had single friends to date her sister, motherfucker started caring a whole lot. And I don't blame him, I would do the same. Sure, it could get sticky when it doesn't work out and it means any exit will have to be graceful, but DJ is my boy and I'll take one for his cock so he can get laid this week. This setup is appreciated but we all know what the real driving force is here.

3) The Crazy Setup: This happens with people who think they know you, but really don't. Or people who know you, but have extraordinarily shitty judgment. John's wife wanted to set me up with her co-worker, Amy. Other than the fact Amy had zero personality, was morbidly obese, and never made eye contact... it would have been perfect. Her rationale was, "Amy is single, Joe is single...it might work!" I love John's wife, Connee, she is a dear friend but this setup proves women are delusional. At no point did she consider my personality, likes or dislikes, or the fact we had nothing in common.

(Side story: Part of her thinking was that I'm athletic and so is Amy and she specifically cited the fact that Amy loved to skydive. Standing at the edge of a plane at 10,000 feet, leaning forward and letting gravity do the work doesn't make you athletic. Actually, it means you're lazy as shit. But I digress...)

Here is the thing: Connee meant well. She saw two single people and wanted to get them together. Her heart was in the right place, sadly it was nowhere near logic. These setups are always well-intentioned but poorly executed.

The lesson? Start including a line item for "escorts" into your monthly budget.

Scenes from a shitty Italian Restaurant

This one took the majority of my workday but I managed to remember a few memorable things said to me during a first date and/or one nightstand. Believe me, you'll be able to tell which is which. 

"Can you finish soon? I really need to smoke."
- See, Debbie liked to smoke. A LOT. As it turns out, she liked smoking more than she liked me.

"My mom is a serious cunt."
- Hey weirdo, I happen to like my mom. Again, this was 13 minutes into date number one.

"Well, I have enough credits for a degree which is exactly the same as having a degree."
-Umm, no, it isn't. And those pictures you posted were WILDLY misleading.

"We can go back to my place but we need to be really quiet because my kids are sleeping."
-Boner Killer 101. I have no issues with you having children but the fact that you're letting some drunk asshole (me) into your home to fuck while they are asleep is revolting. Pass.

"You'll need to pick me up for the date because I can't drive...umm, because of the seizures."
-That was three years ago. I'm still not sure how to respond. I did pick her up and we had an awful time. On the bright side, she didn't shake uncontrollably on the ground and shit her pants...which was nice.

"You and I can go see my church counselor and talk about how we can grow together."
-This was the FIRST FUCKING DATE. Creeped out doesn't even begin to describe what I was feeling.

"I would let you come in, and we would have fun, but I haven't shaved in a while."
-And here was my cogent, rational response, "Ummmmmmmmmmmm.............."

"Could you finish soon? I have an exam to take in 45 minutes."
-It was a community college. She failed the exam, blamed me, and we never spoke or humped again.

"We aren't divorced yet, but I'm sure we will file soon, so this isn't really cheating."
-I didn't. I really wanted to...I mean, really wanted to...but I did not.

AND FINALLY

"The last time I had sex? Two days ago, it was with a guy I met on Craigslist."
-Honestly, how the fuck do you respond to this? She had asked me that question first so I decided to be polite and return the favor. Big fucking mistake.

In closing...what the fuck?

Online dating tips: For the guys

Since I offered unsolicited advice to the ladies, I figured the fellas could use some equally useless dating advice:

-Don't plan a bunch of shit for the first date. When I first started dating after the divorce I would plan nice dinners and multiple activities, only to realize I was spending ass loads of cash on women I had little in common with. Stop it. For a first date plan for drinks or coffee, nothing more. If at the end of either of those, you want to continue the evening, go ahead. But in the event she is a royal rag, you can cut your losses after a few drinks.

-Be yourself. There is no point in spending the first few dates pretending to be something other than who you are. At some point, you are going to be the real you and it'll be in stark contrast to who you've pretended to be. Knock that shit off. When you meet that right person, be it for the night or forever, it will be because of who you really are...not who you pretend to be.

-Be polite. Hold open doors, buy drinks, be polite. Maybe this will never get you laid but it will mean you aren't a dick, which means something as far as karma is concerned.

-Shut the fuck up. Smile a lot, ask questions, and let her talk about her. Throw in funny comments when you can and talk when it means something but by in large...realize that she doesn't actually give a fuck about most of what you have to say. Don't be rude, smile, ask her about her, listen, and don't one-up any of her stories (in fact, don't do that to anyone, lest you be an asshole).

-Be honest. but not too honest. Say things like "You look great" and "It was a lot of fun to hang out with you". Avoid statements like "Your pussy stinks" and "I think you're a bitch". These sound funny and obvious but asshole dudes get a few drinks in them and decide to be cute. See rule #4: Shut the fuck up.

-Be confident. This is hard for many of us because it may not be in our nature. If you aren't confident, follow this rule: act as if...Meaning, act as if you were confident. Believe that someone sometime is going to find you attractive. Maybe it isn't the girl you are on a date with, but someone will be into you for being who you actually are. It's the law of averages, man. Dude I went to high school with was a total stroke, moved to Korea, and has a hot Asian wife...I mean, I'm just sayin...it happens. Be you.

-Finally, don't be pushy. There is a fine line between taking a chance when you think she is interested and being a pushy douche. If you think she is into you, and you're feeling the moment...take your shot. Maybe you missed (aka got shot the fuck down) but take solace in the fact you took your shot. Now, if you get shot down and keep pushing...you're probably a creepy dude. Maybe it works with some women but it probably means you're a shitty person.

So that's what I got fellas. In short, don't be a cock.