3 years. Has it been just shy of 3 years when my ex ran off with his tail between his legs, leaving me to soldier on raising the wee shit?
Has it really been this long that i've been dumped back into the dating pond, once again focusing my efforts via online sites?
Oh yes, it's really been almost 3 years of oddities, freaks, broken hearts, serious lustings, freaks, sexual oddities,....and far, far too much hearing, "you've GOT to start a record of this shit"
I have to put the lunacy out for public consumption - even if I'm the lone reader. I'm wiser, sharper and truth is definitely stranger than fiction.
*Raises glass* Here's to dating in your 30s, when you have a high sex drive, a seriously picky attitude...and finding your bra being used to transport toys
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Tantric deja fuck...
WARNING: What you are about to read is of the more descriptive and graphic nature.
If you are offended by my sexual foibles and don't find them funny...move right on!
I met the ex via an online dating site. When one works in a harem of women where the only men are gay or ancient, online dating is the way to go. I've had various types of experiences and I'll always return to it because it works for me. I'll post a few times about what to look out for, what to do, what to run away screaming from...(plenty!!) but maybe because of the weirdness, I've had some very pleasant times!
I digress....
Dumped, horny, exhausted by child, horny, needing to get out and have 'adult conversation', horny, I returned to the world of online dating. I was hesitant, of course. It had been almost 5 years since I had dated or slept with anyone other than the ex and now I was going to be advertising myself as a single mom. Enter red flags, enter those searching for instant families, and enter those who think all it takes is a Tims coffee enticement for me to drop trou and bend over.
First few weeks online were disappointing. It was a return to high school: those I was interested in ignored me, and the George Costanza types flocked. I didn't branch out at first from my tried and true attractions - leading to my first sex...after almost five years of being with the ex....a deja fuck.
Cute, thin, quirky, artistic. I was humming. Online chats flowed, the chemistry was there but something kept tweaking me, a level of familiarity. We agreed to meet and halfway through the coffee date, it dawned on me. We HAD met before. Intimately. I think he realized something was up when I looked both stunned and horrified at the same time.
"We're on a deja date" I blurted out and watched as the comprehension dawned.
"You were the..."
I nodded and shrugged, trying to remember why we had only gone out maybe twice at the most. "Did you still want to continue"I remember asking.
I remember him looking over at me, slowly smiling. "Why not? We're here now"
Fast forward to end of date, and a lot of making out later. We said our long, heated goodbyes in between plenty of gropes and promises to meet for 'longer' next time. This was a a curfew date for me; the ex was on one of his regular visits which meant enough time to subway jaunt, throw back coffee, exchange a few knowing tidbits and subway jaunt back home before the constant text messaging started. I could handle a shorter date this time, since it was obvious that the next date? Mama was going to get some action!
A week of constant messaging later, finally agreed to an evening tv date (please..comments to yourself). I still couldn't put my finger on why it was only a few dates and I couldn't remember much about the actual sex - although the kissing was fabulous so I was hopeful. The messaging was suggestive, playful, enticing so of course, Mama here was hoping for a super star!
Mama NOW knows there is a reason why you can't always remember sex. And it's not always related to alcohol consumption. I arrived at his place and he pulled me in and before my coat was even off, hands were in my hair and we were making out. Finally. Sex! Yay for Mama! So hopeful considering that I still had my coat on and hands were under my skirt.
Then, my coat was slowly unzipped. "Now sit, breathe. Relax. We are going to take our time. We're going to breathe and be still and enjoy each moment"
Once again, another double take. When one hasn't had sex since conception of a wee shit who was at this point six months old, breathing and 'enjoying each moment' is not exactly what one hopes for. Ah well. Maybe this was just his version of foreplay? I could only hope that things would improve...
It was not to be. He was an air toucher, a whisper soft brusher and everything was about being calm and concentrating, letting 'the energy flow thru'. No sex for over a year? I had different opinions of what it meant to let the energy burn and flow. Afterwards, he walked me out to the cab, a bit of a femine sway to his hips and I remembered why we only went out a few times: I felt like I was just fucked by flowers and butterflies.
Oddest thing about mr deja fuck? He was a one fuck and run type. Completely seemed to go against his new age, sensitive nature. Why was I even disappointed that he dropped off the face of the earth again? I puzzled and questioned it for a while, thinking it was maybe just me. Finally, I gave myself a good smack and realized: would I REALLY want to spend weeks or months breathing softly and listening to a soothing voice reciting, 'such pretty pretty genitals'??
God, no.
If you are offended by my sexual foibles and don't find them funny...move right on!
I met the ex via an online dating site. When one works in a harem of women where the only men are gay or ancient, online dating is the way to go. I've had various types of experiences and I'll always return to it because it works for me. I'll post a few times about what to look out for, what to do, what to run away screaming from...(plenty!!) but maybe because of the weirdness, I've had some very pleasant times!
I digress....
Dumped, horny, exhausted by child, horny, needing to get out and have 'adult conversation', horny, I returned to the world of online dating. I was hesitant, of course. It had been almost 5 years since I had dated or slept with anyone other than the ex and now I was going to be advertising myself as a single mom. Enter red flags, enter those searching for instant families, and enter those who think all it takes is a Tims coffee enticement for me to drop trou and bend over.
First few weeks online were disappointing. It was a return to high school: those I was interested in ignored me, and the George Costanza types flocked. I didn't branch out at first from my tried and true attractions - leading to my first sex...after almost five years of being with the ex....a deja fuck.
Cute, thin, quirky, artistic. I was humming. Online chats flowed, the chemistry was there but something kept tweaking me, a level of familiarity. We agreed to meet and halfway through the coffee date, it dawned on me. We HAD met before. Intimately. I think he realized something was up when I looked both stunned and horrified at the same time.
"We're on a deja date" I blurted out and watched as the comprehension dawned.
"You were the..."
I nodded and shrugged, trying to remember why we had only gone out maybe twice at the most. "Did you still want to continue"I remember asking.
I remember him looking over at me, slowly smiling. "Why not? We're here now"
Fast forward to end of date, and a lot of making out later. We said our long, heated goodbyes in between plenty of gropes and promises to meet for 'longer' next time. This was a a curfew date for me; the ex was on one of his regular visits which meant enough time to subway jaunt, throw back coffee, exchange a few knowing tidbits and subway jaunt back home before the constant text messaging started. I could handle a shorter date this time, since it was obvious that the next date? Mama was going to get some action!
A week of constant messaging later, finally agreed to an evening tv date (please..comments to yourself). I still couldn't put my finger on why it was only a few dates and I couldn't remember much about the actual sex - although the kissing was fabulous so I was hopeful. The messaging was suggestive, playful, enticing so of course, Mama here was hoping for a super star!
Mama NOW knows there is a reason why you can't always remember sex. And it's not always related to alcohol consumption. I arrived at his place and he pulled me in and before my coat was even off, hands were in my hair and we were making out. Finally. Sex! Yay for Mama! So hopeful considering that I still had my coat on and hands were under my skirt.
Then, my coat was slowly unzipped. "Now sit, breathe. Relax. We are going to take our time. We're going to breathe and be still and enjoy each moment"
Once again, another double take. When one hasn't had sex since conception of a wee shit who was at this point six months old, breathing and 'enjoying each moment' is not exactly what one hopes for. Ah well. Maybe this was just his version of foreplay? I could only hope that things would improve...
It was not to be. He was an air toucher, a whisper soft brusher and everything was about being calm and concentrating, letting 'the energy flow thru'. No sex for over a year? I had different opinions of what it meant to let the energy burn and flow. Afterwards, he walked me out to the cab, a bit of a femine sway to his hips and I remembered why we only went out a few times: I felt like I was just fucked by flowers and butterflies.
Oddest thing about mr deja fuck? He was a one fuck and run type. Completely seemed to go against his new age, sensitive nature. Why was I even disappointed that he dropped off the face of the earth again? I puzzled and questioned it for a while, thinking it was maybe just me. Finally, I gave myself a good smack and realized: would I REALLY want to spend weeks or months breathing softly and listening to a soothing voice reciting, 'such pretty pretty genitals'??
God, no.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
I used to pride myself on being a decent judge of character.
...particularly in the dating world. Maybe it's because I've been out of the loop for so long? Or maybe it is because since I carry around the single mom stamp on my forehead, some men see that as an open invitation for "oh look. sex."
Funny, charming, seemed very sweet at first. Kept wanting to go out, I had to keep changing plans, and last Saturday, when the wee shit was being kept occupied by the ex, I nipped out and met him for a few pints. He had told me he was a bit of a flirt, but "always a gentleman" and "I'd never make you feel uncomfortable".
Okay, fine, Mr. Charming. It wasn't you, per se, making me "feel uncomfortable", it was the fanatical staring between you and the woman sitting at the bar. At one point, after getting up, I was ready to tell her to sit down at my table and keep him company. But pouring rain, no sign of a coffee shop around, and the fact that tensions were high between the ex and I since he was dumbfounded that I had actually told him he would have to (gasp) MAKE DINNER for the wee shit, kept me sitting at the table and drinking my watered down pint.
And next, we have the "emergency text message from boss. Have to leave". Mmmmm. Fabulous. We walk out, I get a big hug and the "call me". Headed home, I was willing to bet for CERTAIN that I'd never hear from him again, thank you very much, nor would I want to without a lot of explanation.
Did I get an explanation? Was I flabbergasted when he contacted me again, wondering if I wanted to go out again? Oh, let me clarify that. He doesn't want to 'go out again'. He thinks it would be great to have a single mom around during the day for some "opportunistic fun". Because, after all, single moms (and women in general) just loooooooove the feeling of being used as an available option. Because, after all, "you are quite good looking and well, yeah. You'd probably be good for some lays"
I've been banging my head against the wall about this one. Did NOT see it coming at all; no hints, no ideas, NOTHING that lead to the kicker of "I've always thought it would be hot to have a single mom around to give me blow jobs on short notice". Oh, pardon me while I run out and plan a babysitting schedule around your oral needs.
But, at least it's nice to know that single women with children have become the equivalent of the 1970s peep show: available, cheap and seedy.
I didn't yell at him, I didn't send a long lecture as there would be no point. I just deleted, moved on, and snuck into watch the wee shit sleep. There's no way in HELL I'm raising a son to send him out into the world, go on dates, stare at other women...and not even pay for the dates pint!
Funny, charming, seemed very sweet at first. Kept wanting to go out, I had to keep changing plans, and last Saturday, when the wee shit was being kept occupied by the ex, I nipped out and met him for a few pints. He had told me he was a bit of a flirt, but "always a gentleman" and "I'd never make you feel uncomfortable".
Okay, fine, Mr. Charming. It wasn't you, per se, making me "feel uncomfortable", it was the fanatical staring between you and the woman sitting at the bar. At one point, after getting up, I was ready to tell her to sit down at my table and keep him company. But pouring rain, no sign of a coffee shop around, and the fact that tensions were high between the ex and I since he was dumbfounded that I had actually told him he would have to (gasp) MAKE DINNER for the wee shit, kept me sitting at the table and drinking my watered down pint.
And next, we have the "emergency text message from boss. Have to leave". Mmmmm. Fabulous. We walk out, I get a big hug and the "call me". Headed home, I was willing to bet for CERTAIN that I'd never hear from him again, thank you very much, nor would I want to without a lot of explanation.
Did I get an explanation? Was I flabbergasted when he contacted me again, wondering if I wanted to go out again? Oh, let me clarify that. He doesn't want to 'go out again'. He thinks it would be great to have a single mom around during the day for some "opportunistic fun". Because, after all, single moms (and women in general) just loooooooove the feeling of being used as an available option. Because, after all, "you are quite good looking and well, yeah. You'd probably be good for some lays"
I've been banging my head against the wall about this one. Did NOT see it coming at all; no hints, no ideas, NOTHING that lead to the kicker of "I've always thought it would be hot to have a single mom around to give me blow jobs on short notice". Oh, pardon me while I run out and plan a babysitting schedule around your oral needs.
But, at least it's nice to know that single women with children have become the equivalent of the 1970s peep show: available, cheap and seedy.
I didn't yell at him, I didn't send a long lecture as there would be no point. I just deleted, moved on, and snuck into watch the wee shit sleep. There's no way in HELL I'm raising a son to send him out into the world, go on dates, stare at other women...and not even pay for the dates pint!
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Island Fun
Oh, sunny, bright island fun - how I've missed you!
Mama needed some serious adult time after the past two weeks so mama coerced granny to look after wee shit for a few hours while mama went island adventuring.
Wee shit is snoring away, I'm still humming and NOT feeling guilty. And now the question needs to be asked: how many times does a booty call make to become a FWB or regular occurence? I need a rulebook, damn it! Relationships and one night stands were simple: sex was uncomplicated.
Bah. I'm analyzing too much. For the first time in years (yes, years) sex is playful and FUN. Why am I even attempting to categorize the quantity? If I was smart and if this past year has taught me anything (beside the fact that I'm a hell of a lot stronger than I ever thought I could be), sometimes I just have to throw my hands up in the air and let things just HAPPEN. Disssecting and labelling is just going to cause one big ass headache.
Am I ready for another relationship? Who the hell knows? Am I ready to feel like a normal, sexual being again? To both desire and to be desired? HELL YEAH.
Mama needed some serious adult time after the past two weeks so mama coerced granny to look after wee shit for a few hours while mama went island adventuring.
Wee shit is snoring away, I'm still humming and NOT feeling guilty. And now the question needs to be asked: how many times does a booty call make to become a FWB or regular occurence? I need a rulebook, damn it! Relationships and one night stands were simple: sex was uncomplicated.
Bah. I'm analyzing too much. For the first time in years (yes, years) sex is playful and FUN. Why am I even attempting to categorize the quantity? If I was smart and if this past year has taught me anything (beside the fact that I'm a hell of a lot stronger than I ever thought I could be), sometimes I just have to throw my hands up in the air and let things just HAPPEN. Disssecting and labelling is just going to cause one big ass headache.
Am I ready for another relationship? Who the hell knows? Am I ready to feel like a normal, sexual being again? To both desire and to be desired? HELL YEAH.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
amazon queen.
*hiccups*
All right. So I am writing this post after two lovely, lovely strongbow ciders (I'm a cheap drunk, what can I say??)
Going out just kind of fell into my lap this late afternoon. After the usual antagonistic text messages with the ex having to do with the fact that I feel I can't count on him and then the reply that if I could have said "no" when he wanted to skip Monday's visit (bangs head against keyboard)....I knew I just needed to get out.
Oddly enough, another one of online boys just happened to sign in shortly after I did this afternoon - and he's never online during the day. Put the idea out there for a drink or two this eve, he was up for it, and off I went -once I informed the ex that he's a father in name only and this cancelling of visits is ridiculous. Told a small white lie for my reason for going out (a post partum group, didn't you know?) and left angered, upset, tense and frustrated. All things that require a good pint.
Pints were fabulous. Company was enjoyable; we have similiar music tastes, are the same age, speak the same "I graduated university in the 1990s" language. Very understanding that I was on a curfew so walked with me to the subway.
And here is where the problem arose. I was aware he was shorter than I was, in flats. A quick hug on the subway plaftform and I realized how much shorter: he's hobbit sized. At the pub he was sitting down when I came in and I'll blame the strongbow on the fact that I didn't take a really good look at him when he would use the facilities. Pocket sized.
All right. So I'm superficial.. Yell all you want. I don't mind a bending down to give a hug, but an all out crouch? Enough to make this already ungraceful and ungainly woman feel downright massive.
and now...another decision....But at least the wee shit is asleep, curled up to his stuffie and looking mighty sweet. He's allowed to be hobbit sized when he's that adorable.
All right. So I am writing this post after two lovely, lovely strongbow ciders (I'm a cheap drunk, what can I say??)
Going out just kind of fell into my lap this late afternoon. After the usual antagonistic text messages with the ex having to do with the fact that I feel I can't count on him and then the reply that if I could have said "no" when he wanted to skip Monday's visit (bangs head against keyboard)....I knew I just needed to get out.
Oddly enough, another one of online boys just happened to sign in shortly after I did this afternoon - and he's never online during the day. Put the idea out there for a drink or two this eve, he was up for it, and off I went -once I informed the ex that he's a father in name only and this cancelling of visits is ridiculous. Told a small white lie for my reason for going out (a post partum group, didn't you know?) and left angered, upset, tense and frustrated. All things that require a good pint.
Pints were fabulous. Company was enjoyable; we have similiar music tastes, are the same age, speak the same "I graduated university in the 1990s" language. Very understanding that I was on a curfew so walked with me to the subway.
And here is where the problem arose. I was aware he was shorter than I was, in flats. A quick hug on the subway plaftform and I realized how much shorter: he's hobbit sized. At the pub he was sitting down when I came in and I'll blame the strongbow on the fact that I didn't take a really good look at him when he would use the facilities. Pocket sized.
All right. So I'm superficial.. Yell all you want. I don't mind a bending down to give a hug, but an all out crouch? Enough to make this already ungraceful and ungainly woman feel downright massive.
and now...another decision....But at least the wee shit is asleep, curled up to his stuffie and looking mighty sweet. He's allowed to be hobbit sized when he's that adorable.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
...and here's to you, Mrs. Robinson.
I must be a terrible mother.
I spent almost an entire day childless and didn't feel guilty once. Sure, I worried if the ex was going to be able to survive putting the wee shit to bed without my assistance, but I actually did not find my thoughts wandering to the wee shit every five minutes.
Am I any less a devoted mother for enjoying a movie date with the endearingly dorky young un' and then pretending to watch the superbowl with a friend? ( I say pretending because the evening just involved pints, snacks, and laughing hysterically at the reactions in the pub). I'm just going to chalk it up to the fact that - WARNING....WHINE ALERT.....I just don't have time to relax with friends or anyone else that can string a few sentences together lately. the ex is always 'working' and having to reschedule his visits last minute so I don't have the time to make plans. END OF WHINE. WE WILL NOW RESUME REGULAR PROGRAMMING.
And to the topic of the 'young un'. He's puppydoglicious and i'm not normally a fan of that. There is something about him that makes me want to rub his head and offer soothing words of "that's a good boy". Hey, it's not a bad thing, really! He appears to be sweet, dorky (something that I have a fondness for), obviously intelligent and possibly requiring a bit of mothering?
Oh god, no. no. no. Mothering is not what I'm ideally hoping for at the moment. My hormones aren't exactly screaming at me, "you need a back rub".
But despite all this, I'd like to see him again? Hmmm. Maybe I have hope for something underneath the shaggy sweet little puppy dog.
I spent almost an entire day childless and didn't feel guilty once. Sure, I worried if the ex was going to be able to survive putting the wee shit to bed without my assistance, but I actually did not find my thoughts wandering to the wee shit every five minutes.
Am I any less a devoted mother for enjoying a movie date with the endearingly dorky young un' and then pretending to watch the superbowl with a friend? ( I say pretending because the evening just involved pints, snacks, and laughing hysterically at the reactions in the pub). I'm just going to chalk it up to the fact that - WARNING....WHINE ALERT.....I just don't have time to relax with friends or anyone else that can string a few sentences together lately. the ex is always 'working' and having to reschedule his visits last minute so I don't have the time to make plans. END OF WHINE. WE WILL NOW RESUME REGULAR PROGRAMMING.
And to the topic of the 'young un'. He's puppydoglicious and i'm not normally a fan of that. There is something about him that makes me want to rub his head and offer soothing words of "that's a good boy". Hey, it's not a bad thing, really! He appears to be sweet, dorky (something that I have a fondness for), obviously intelligent and possibly requiring a bit of mothering?
Oh god, no. no. no. Mothering is not what I'm ideally hoping for at the moment. My hormones aren't exactly screaming at me, "you need a back rub".
But despite all this, I'd like to see him again? Hmmm. Maybe I have hope for something underneath the shaggy sweet little puppy dog.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
An introduction, an education...
I was whining to a friend that all the 'mommy' blogs I've read seem to be strictly of the wife or long term partner variety. When asked why don't I start writing one, I had to pause and think; well, why not? A single mom of a little one (who tries not to whack her ex with the wooden spoon when he's over visiting the little guy); a single mom who is venturing out into the dating hell hole again - hell, you KNOW there's some truly odd stories ready to surface.
And odd, they have been.
Let me give you a quick introduction. I'm a (cough cough) 30something single urban mom. I use urban in the fact that I live in a city, not in any annoyingly cool and hipster mom way. I have a wee shit who I adore and that I'm raising on my own. Let's just say pre-natal classes can prepare you for almost anything except for one major point: your long term (and supportive) partner will flip out, leave...and decide that he 'thinks he might be happy' with a annoyingly clingy (and not nearly as attractive - of course) woman who shall now after be referred to as The Twat.
But, enough of that. Karma, baby. Karma. I've seen it in action since he left and Karma is definitely one bad ass bitch who slaps her foes around. I have moments, where I whine, pout, mope, which is only natural but a quick head shake and a realization how miserable the ex is quickly snaps me out of it.
Add to the fact that for some reason, the dating world seems to have improved vastly from my last time around, six years ago. Am I less picky? Am I just insanely horny now that the hormones are rolling back to normal? Or is it the fact that a 30something year old woman NOT looking for a husband is a dating holy grail?
Oh yes. Just to clarify. There are no regrets about the little shit. He's annoyingly cute, annoying stubborn and more and more I see that he is annoyingly me.
And odd, they have been.
Let me give you a quick introduction. I'm a (cough cough) 30something single urban mom. I use urban in the fact that I live in a city, not in any annoyingly cool and hipster mom way. I have a wee shit who I adore and that I'm raising on my own. Let's just say pre-natal classes can prepare you for almost anything except for one major point: your long term (and supportive) partner will flip out, leave...and decide that he 'thinks he might be happy' with a annoyingly clingy (and not nearly as attractive - of course) woman who shall now after be referred to as The Twat.
But, enough of that. Karma, baby. Karma. I've seen it in action since he left and Karma is definitely one bad ass bitch who slaps her foes around. I have moments, where I whine, pout, mope, which is only natural but a quick head shake and a realization how miserable the ex is quickly snaps me out of it.
Add to the fact that for some reason, the dating world seems to have improved vastly from my last time around, six years ago. Am I less picky? Am I just insanely horny now that the hormones are rolling back to normal? Or is it the fact that a 30something year old woman NOT looking for a husband is a dating holy grail?
Oh yes. Just to clarify. There are no regrets about the little shit. He's annoyingly cute, annoying stubborn and more and more I see that he is annoyingly me.
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