Another year is coming to an end and I find myself single yet again. After dating someone for the last 8 months, he wanted to just be friends. How the fuck does that even work? Yeah you saw me naked, no big deal though let's just be buddies now. I often wonder what the fuck is going through a guy's brain that would make him think that I would be remotely ok with this situation.
As I find myself still single with each passing year, and as I get closer and closer to the big 4-0, I relate more and more to Bridget Jones. I take solace in knowing; however, that eventually she does get her happy ending (even though it took fucking forever for it to happen). And yes, I am aware that she is a fictional character, but I am sure there is someone like her out in the world that shared the same struggles with finding a life partner. Oh wait.... that would be me! Maybe I just need to fall into some mud and then I will meet my Patrick Dempsey? (watch Bridget Jones' Baby if you haven't done so yet, it's hilarious).
My back up plan was to find an marry John Stamos, because he is a Greek God that ages like a fine wine. I was heartbroken to learn that he got engaged and is going to be a dad. I never got a chance to woo him! Have mercy. So now that my backup plan is ruined I am left with no choice other than to navigate the treacherous seas of online dating YET AGAIN. 2017 was my year of saying "fuck off" to people and situations that weren't good for me, and for building and reinforcing boundaries. That said, I will use this new attitude and skill set to my advantage as I engage with potential suitors and weirdos on the interweb.
I already encountered one disgusting pig on OKC (Ok Cupid for you non-single folks). And yes, in my previous post when I reviewed all of the dating sites I did say that there were a lot of pervs and sexual deviants on OKC, but I am ever the optimist and I like to keep all avenues open to meet my future husband. So get this- this guy messages me and asked how dating was going so far, to which I responded with "do you want a real answer or a fake standard response?" So I began to explain my thoughts and feelings on the subject, and then he sent me his number because he wanted to talk. Well fine, no harm in that since I can always block a number. So this guy calls me and starts telling me how he doesn't sleep around because he doesn't want STDs, and honest to God I don't know why he decided to share this information with me because I didn't ask, and then he starts telling me that he will "tease the shit out of you from a distance just not go and sleep around." In other words, he wants naked pics. I really was left speechless because who the fuck just starts talking about this to someone you don't even know??? Also, if a dude SAYS he doesn't sleep around, then he is 100% full of shit. He then asked me if I ever sent pics, and I was like FUCK NO, which apparently that was not the answer he was looking for. Needless to say I will not be talking to this dirty birdie again and I hope I don't get any unsolicited dick pics, but if I do I'll be sure to share! (jk)
I also decided to get back on Match.com, even though I haven't had any luck with that site since 2006 (oh God that's depressing). I have decided to find myself an adult man in his late 30s- early 40s, who specifically mention qualities and values that align with what I am looking for. I have sent over 30 emails already, and what emails do I get in return??? Emails from OLD AF grandpas and old Pakistani or Indian guys looking for an American wife, I fucking kid you not!
I got an email from this Pakistani or Indian man (sorry I can't decipher the difference I'm not trying to be racist) and this is what he wrote:
"Skin complexion or skin color, or shade of skin is most definitely a perfect match for me! I have lived in USA for more than 40 years. Four decades! 35 years (at least) we lived in NYC, Queens!
Many years looking for a beautiful American wife!!
I would have accepted a very smart, athletic, intelligent, well employed, beautiful, wealthy, good figured and American Educated (College, University, and Graduate School) Indian American Girl, or Woman when I was younger!
Still looking for that special woman, arms still wide open!
Make your just five minutes to hours, days, weeks, months, years away!
I will keep looking, listening, waiting, anticipating, praying, watching out for you to help out also!"
Aside from that note, here is an email I received from a 63 year old (who is lying because my dad is 69 and doesn't look fucking old like this man who is clearly near 80) hillbilly Santa Claus lookalike from Florida:
"Hi we both like walking with that special someone holding hands talking having fun getting to know each other maybe someday become Best Friends. We both like Movies & Music. I like open doors for the Lady in my life sent flowers"
This was the problem I had with Match.com the last dozen times. The attractive, seemingly educated, gainfully employed men who are in my age range don't fucking respond to emails (let alone send emails) and I only get emails from OLD AF grandpas or foreign men looking for American wives. It's really, really, really depressing. I want to have a word with that fucking guy in that Match.com commercial who stops women on the street and asks them if they've tried Match. I would be like "Fuck yeah I tried Match for the last decade of my life and it fucking sucks! Where are the attractive, gainfully employed, age appropriate men that you advertise????" Then I would choke him....
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Friday, December 22, 2017
Wednesday, December 20, 2017
The Chilean
The night I realized that the Man-Child was ghosting me, I had a girls night out with one of my dear married friends, who is also a mother to a beautiful little girl. Needless to say, she doesn't get out much anymore so we decided to have a wild time. While at a speakeasy, eating grilled cheese and downing Old Fashions, we talked about the Man-Child. As usual, she got to listen to my bitching about men, dating and how shitty it all is. After our first stop we ended up at a hole-in-the-wall dive bar, which happened to be hosting its final night before closing.
The bar was full of old people and a mediocre band, so we continued our drink fest. I had lost track of how many Old Fashions I had at this point. I decided to go out to the patio to see if I could find younger people to talk to (aka on the hunt for men). I happened upon a group of guys, and I decided to join their conversation since alcohol makes me brave. I told them about the movie I was working on at that time because I was really excited about it. The rest of the evening is a bit fuzzy as I was now fairly drunk, but a cute Chilean guy approached me and we began to talk. I noticed his Latin accent and called it out, telling him that he sounded like Maluma (a hot Colombian singer I am currently in love with). I vaguely recall asking him his age, because he looked young to me. My hunch was correct, he was 28 and I was 34. I was afraid of the 6 year age difference, because men are typically immature even in their 30s. In hindsight I should've listened to my gut, because odds are men in their late 20s are nowhere near the same life stage as a woman in her mid-30s. However, I was feeling very free and open to whatever so I continued to talk to him since I was enjoying myself.
After the bar closed we wandered over to IHOP with our friends. He sat there, quiet, drinking coffee, while the rest of us (still intoxicated) chowed down on breakfast. After our meal he gave me his phone to input my number- and I wrote my name as Morgan La Reina- because I am the queen (and my apartment's name has La Reina in the name). We became Facebook friends immediately, which I don't remember doing. I honestly never thought I would see him again, let alone hear from him. But I did. He text me and asked "when are you going to date me" and that won me over (although I didn't immediately go out with him because I was busy and made sure he knew that). It was honest, it was forward, and it was hot. I liked that he was pursuing me, because men, at least American men, don't do that anymore.
Our date was one of the greatest dates I had been on in an incredibly long time. He made me laugh, he was interesting, he was sexy (I love Latin men), and he acknowledged that I was funny as well. I have gone out with well over 100 men over the last 6 years, and nobody ever made me really laugh. And nobody ever appreciates or acknowledges my sense of humor. But he did, and that's what made him different.
We dated for about 5 months before it ran its course, and I have to say I enjoyed his company more than any other guy that I have dated thus far in my near 6 years of singlehood, which made it all the more painful when it ended. In the beginning we hung out a lot, and it was fun, and easy, and I didn't have to chase or ask for attention or do anything. I felt like I was with a really great friend, that I was also very attracted to.
Things soon started to change, I could feel it. It was right before his mother came to visit for an entire month. I had planned a fun day trip to go kayaking up in Big Bear. After that day I rarely saw the Chilean. I attributed this to his mother's visit since she had come all the way from Chile and would be staying a month. I had decided to not think too much about the fact that we weren't going out as much and I was determined to be understanding about it. However, even after his mother left things never went back to the way they first were. Immediately after she left, he went to see a movie with his roommate- despite me mentioning multiple times that I had wanted us to go to the movies. I had invited him over for dinner the next night because I truly missed his company. He accepted the invitation yet the next day he had suddenly remembered that he had a comedy show to go to. I wouldn't have minded so much if he had been the one to suggest another night to get together- I had to practically drag a date out of him since he doesn't like to plan for anything in advance- a quality that drives me insane. I was hurt because for a month all I wanted was to spend time with him, and I just felt like those feelings weren't mutual and that is what hurt the most. I wasn't a priority and I knew it.
Despite knowing in my gut that things weren't right, I tried to force it. Forcing it only made me resentful and unhappy. I was resentful that I kept asking him to go out with me and it wasn't being reciprocated. I was resentful because I didn't feel wanted. I kept keeping score, and I knew that I was giving far more than I was receiving. That seems to be the story of my life though. When the guy you've been dating suddenly becomes wishy washy when it comes to making plans it's time to just walk away. I don't know why it's so hard for me to do that. Instead of walking away I just let resentment grow toward this person whose company I enjoyed more than anything.
Inevitably we broke up- or rather I dumped him. I didn't want to, but I knew I had to. The final straw was when he broke plans with me and my friends to go to Six Flags Fright Fest even though he knew about it weeks in advance- yet he conveniently forgotten that he had a work session planned. What I hated most was that he never bothered to remember our plans or ever put anything in a calendar to stay organized. He cancelled on me the day of and all he could say was "I really fucked this one up, sorry," so I broke up with him via text, letting him know that I didn't accept his apology, that he didn't respect me or our plans, that he didn't even bother to make plans, and that I was 35 and knew what I wanted. I want to get married, and I want children, and I want to be with someone who is an active participate in our relationship. I told him I deserved better, and that he didn't have the maturity for a serious relationship, let alone to date. I went to Six Flags that night and had the best time with my friends and didn't think of him once.
The Chilean wanted to talk in person, and usually after I break up with someone I block them from all forms of communication; however, I decided to hear him out. The day we talked was one of the most painful days of my life. We were walking around outside, and he was asking about my family- I knew he was stalling and I just flat out asked him why the fuck he cared how my family was and what did he want? It turned out that he wanted to apologize to me in person for how he treated me. When someone you want to hate ends up apologizing, it's very hard to continue hating them. The hate dissipates into hurt and heartache. That's the best word for how I felt- heartbroken. He had admitted to pulling away- which I called him out on because I am no novice when it comes to dating men who pull away. He said he needed space to think about us and where things were going. He said that we were on two different paths; I have my life in order and I know what I want while he has no clue what he's doing or where he's going and is incapable of planning in advance.
What hurt the most was that he wanted to remain friends, because dating for six months wasn't nothing. But I explained (or shouted rather) that I didn't need any more fucking friends and I couldn't be friends because I had feelings for him. I also informed him that friendship is a two way street, and that both friends need to participate in seeing and speaking with one another- which he didn't seem to be capable of. While talking to him I cried more than I ever have in a very long time. That's because I had real feelings for him. Despite my crying he somehow managed to make me laugh, I don't know how he does it. He held me while I was crying, and I could feel myself caving in. I couldn't kick him out of my life, as much as it hurt. After our talk I agreed to remain friends, but I would need time to heal. After he left I continued crying all night long.
The very next day the Chilean text me to inform me that he had been laid off, and even though I was still hurting I was able to offer up some words of encouragement that were genuine, not forced. Inside of me I still deeply cared for him but had no expectations of reconciliation. A month passed by and I reached out to him late one night in my luxurious hotel room at the Trump International, after I ran away from my family in Las Vegas. I vented to him my frustrations with my family and their fighting, and out of the blue he told me that he did miss me too sometimes and that he wasn't a robot. We then reminisced about our good times together, which then made me miss him more and I was beginning to regret breaking up with him.
Long story short, we rekindled our romance on Thanksgiving, against my better judgement, but we both genuinely missed each other. What I accept responsibility for is knowing how it was going to end again and letting it happen anyway. He was young, and still had so much growing up to do, and I was placing expectations on him that I knew he would never meet.
We broke up a second time shortly after Thanksgiving, but this time was permanent. I admit I was pretty harsh with him the second time around, mostly because my feelings were very hurt and I had felt used this time around. But I want to thank him for the fun he infused into my life. For so long dating wasn't fun anymore, and he made it fun. He made me laugh more than any other guy and he made me realize that that is a quality I absolutely need in the next man I date. I hope he finds the adventure he's looking for in his life and I wish him the best.
The bar was full of old people and a mediocre band, so we continued our drink fest. I had lost track of how many Old Fashions I had at this point. I decided to go out to the patio to see if I could find younger people to talk to (aka on the hunt for men). I happened upon a group of guys, and I decided to join their conversation since alcohol makes me brave. I told them about the movie I was working on at that time because I was really excited about it. The rest of the evening is a bit fuzzy as I was now fairly drunk, but a cute Chilean guy approached me and we began to talk. I noticed his Latin accent and called it out, telling him that he sounded like Maluma (a hot Colombian singer I am currently in love with). I vaguely recall asking him his age, because he looked young to me. My hunch was correct, he was 28 and I was 34. I was afraid of the 6 year age difference, because men are typically immature even in their 30s. In hindsight I should've listened to my gut, because odds are men in their late 20s are nowhere near the same life stage as a woman in her mid-30s. However, I was feeling very free and open to whatever so I continued to talk to him since I was enjoying myself.
After the bar closed we wandered over to IHOP with our friends. He sat there, quiet, drinking coffee, while the rest of us (still intoxicated) chowed down on breakfast. After our meal he gave me his phone to input my number- and I wrote my name as Morgan La Reina- because I am the queen (and my apartment's name has La Reina in the name). We became Facebook friends immediately, which I don't remember doing. I honestly never thought I would see him again, let alone hear from him. But I did. He text me and asked "when are you going to date me" and that won me over (although I didn't immediately go out with him because I was busy and made sure he knew that). It was honest, it was forward, and it was hot. I liked that he was pursuing me, because men, at least American men, don't do that anymore.
Our date was one of the greatest dates I had been on in an incredibly long time. He made me laugh, he was interesting, he was sexy (I love Latin men), and he acknowledged that I was funny as well. I have gone out with well over 100 men over the last 6 years, and nobody ever made me really laugh. And nobody ever appreciates or acknowledges my sense of humor. But he did, and that's what made him different.
We dated for about 5 months before it ran its course, and I have to say I enjoyed his company more than any other guy that I have dated thus far in my near 6 years of singlehood, which made it all the more painful when it ended. In the beginning we hung out a lot, and it was fun, and easy, and I didn't have to chase or ask for attention or do anything. I felt like I was with a really great friend, that I was also very attracted to.
Things soon started to change, I could feel it. It was right before his mother came to visit for an entire month. I had planned a fun day trip to go kayaking up in Big Bear. After that day I rarely saw the Chilean. I attributed this to his mother's visit since she had come all the way from Chile and would be staying a month. I had decided to not think too much about the fact that we weren't going out as much and I was determined to be understanding about it. However, even after his mother left things never went back to the way they first were. Immediately after she left, he went to see a movie with his roommate- despite me mentioning multiple times that I had wanted us to go to the movies. I had invited him over for dinner the next night because I truly missed his company. He accepted the invitation yet the next day he had suddenly remembered that he had a comedy show to go to. I wouldn't have minded so much if he had been the one to suggest another night to get together- I had to practically drag a date out of him since he doesn't like to plan for anything in advance- a quality that drives me insane. I was hurt because for a month all I wanted was to spend time with him, and I just felt like those feelings weren't mutual and that is what hurt the most. I wasn't a priority and I knew it.
Despite knowing in my gut that things weren't right, I tried to force it. Forcing it only made me resentful and unhappy. I was resentful that I kept asking him to go out with me and it wasn't being reciprocated. I was resentful because I didn't feel wanted. I kept keeping score, and I knew that I was giving far more than I was receiving. That seems to be the story of my life though. When the guy you've been dating suddenly becomes wishy washy when it comes to making plans it's time to just walk away. I don't know why it's so hard for me to do that. Instead of walking away I just let resentment grow toward this person whose company I enjoyed more than anything.
Inevitably we broke up- or rather I dumped him. I didn't want to, but I knew I had to. The final straw was when he broke plans with me and my friends to go to Six Flags Fright Fest even though he knew about it weeks in advance- yet he conveniently forgotten that he had a work session planned. What I hated most was that he never bothered to remember our plans or ever put anything in a calendar to stay organized. He cancelled on me the day of and all he could say was "I really fucked this one up, sorry," so I broke up with him via text, letting him know that I didn't accept his apology, that he didn't respect me or our plans, that he didn't even bother to make plans, and that I was 35 and knew what I wanted. I want to get married, and I want children, and I want to be with someone who is an active participate in our relationship. I told him I deserved better, and that he didn't have the maturity for a serious relationship, let alone to date. I went to Six Flags that night and had the best time with my friends and didn't think of him once.
The Chilean wanted to talk in person, and usually after I break up with someone I block them from all forms of communication; however, I decided to hear him out. The day we talked was one of the most painful days of my life. We were walking around outside, and he was asking about my family- I knew he was stalling and I just flat out asked him why the fuck he cared how my family was and what did he want? It turned out that he wanted to apologize to me in person for how he treated me. When someone you want to hate ends up apologizing, it's very hard to continue hating them. The hate dissipates into hurt and heartache. That's the best word for how I felt- heartbroken. He had admitted to pulling away- which I called him out on because I am no novice when it comes to dating men who pull away. He said he needed space to think about us and where things were going. He said that we were on two different paths; I have my life in order and I know what I want while he has no clue what he's doing or where he's going and is incapable of planning in advance.
What hurt the most was that he wanted to remain friends, because dating for six months wasn't nothing. But I explained (or shouted rather) that I didn't need any more fucking friends and I couldn't be friends because I had feelings for him. I also informed him that friendship is a two way street, and that both friends need to participate in seeing and speaking with one another- which he didn't seem to be capable of. While talking to him I cried more than I ever have in a very long time. That's because I had real feelings for him. Despite my crying he somehow managed to make me laugh, I don't know how he does it. He held me while I was crying, and I could feel myself caving in. I couldn't kick him out of my life, as much as it hurt. After our talk I agreed to remain friends, but I would need time to heal. After he left I continued crying all night long.
The very next day the Chilean text me to inform me that he had been laid off, and even though I was still hurting I was able to offer up some words of encouragement that were genuine, not forced. Inside of me I still deeply cared for him but had no expectations of reconciliation. A month passed by and I reached out to him late one night in my luxurious hotel room at the Trump International, after I ran away from my family in Las Vegas. I vented to him my frustrations with my family and their fighting, and out of the blue he told me that he did miss me too sometimes and that he wasn't a robot. We then reminisced about our good times together, which then made me miss him more and I was beginning to regret breaking up with him.
Long story short, we rekindled our romance on Thanksgiving, against my better judgement, but we both genuinely missed each other. What I accept responsibility for is knowing how it was going to end again and letting it happen anyway. He was young, and still had so much growing up to do, and I was placing expectations on him that I knew he would never meet.
We broke up a second time shortly after Thanksgiving, but this time was permanent. I admit I was pretty harsh with him the second time around, mostly because my feelings were very hurt and I had felt used this time around. But I want to thank him for the fun he infused into my life. For so long dating wasn't fun anymore, and he made it fun. He made me laugh more than any other guy and he made me realize that that is a quality I absolutely need in the next man I date. I hope he finds the adventure he's looking for in his life and I wish him the best.
Tuesday, December 19, 2017
Dating Post-Matchmaker: The Nightmare Continues
After I was 3 bachelors deep into the matchmaking process, I decided to reactivate my dating apps in an effort to out-match the matchmakers, as they were doing a tremendously shitty job of setting me up with guys I liked or found even remotely attractive.
I decided to venture into the world of Bumble once again, despite my recent catfish experience and despite the fact that I had just dumped a schmuck that I had met on there just a few month prior. I always go back with the attitude of "it will be different this time," although time after time it never is. I suppose that is the definition of insanity, doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result. I must be insane- but I like to think of myself as hopelessly optimistic.
I met a Bachelor who will be referred to as the Man-Child. Another suitable name would be Faucet because his nose dripped like one. He was 37 years old, worked in the Army Reserves, but also worked for a random social sports company- for which he ran a kickball league. His favorite past time included wearing an animal onesie and going to Carney's with his friends. I can't make this shit up. This grown ass man, who was in the Army, liked to run around in an animal onesie. Aside from that, I could tell he was a man-child because he lived with 2 other grown men in what looked like a disgusting, unkempt, college frat house- where beer pong and other drinking games must have been played night after night. You can tell a lot about a person based on their living conditions.
Man-Child and I went on a few dates for a solid month. We talked about serious topics, including our desire to have families one day and pursue serious relationships. This is what always lures me in- the prospect of meeting someone like myself who shares the same desire of sharing their life with someone. I suppose I should know by this point that this is a trap- yet I fall for it every time.
One weekend the Man-Child had to leave for his Army weekend, and right after he returned the process of ghosting began. He stopped texting, he became flaky, cancelled plans due to alleged illnesses; however, he would reschedule only to cancel again. I was all too familiar with this game, so I called him out on it one day after I had made up my mind that he was garbage. I said that if he didn't want to date then he could've been man enough to say so, that grown men don't ghost women, and that he was in fact a Man-Child. You would think that a man who is near 40 would stop with the bullshit, but I guess that is too much to hope for.
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