My First Dress - the Mayor

My first post-marriage dating experience was actually a pretty good one. The way it happened really worked out to my advantage. The stars were aligned and I was about to try on my first dress in the world of single people. Again.  

We met at a networking event when I happened to notice what my mom would call “a good-looking fellow,” and I gave him the once-over … with positive results. This was big. It was the first time in years that I had noticed someone and could actually picture myself with him. For the presentation, we ended up sitting next to each other and had a pretty good chat. (To borrow from my pre-teen years in New Jersey), this was MAJOR. I was ok (sweating profusely, but ok) talking to an attractive man I’d never met before, and he seemed to be thinking I wasn’t too bad either.

When the presentation ended he casually turned to me and said, “are you hungry?” “I’m starved,” I said (because I really was. I can’t stand these networking events where they pour wine down your throat but won’t give you so much as a cracker to go with it. I’m a lightweight, people, and I need food to sustain myself for the actual networking portion of the evening).

We left and met at a restaurant downtown and it wasn’t long before he spilled the beans. This was actually a set-up. A mutual friend suggested he attend the event because I was going to be there and she thought we’d hit it off. I hadn’t a clue but it was fine with me. We were having a nice dinner and he was nice to look at. He seemed really genuine, too. Our mutual friend had told him about my situation so he told me his, which wasn’t much different. He seemed understanding and I felt completely comfortable talking about the big “D” on our foreheads. Dinner went on, me with another glass of wine (come on, I wasn’t that comfortable) – and he with a coke. I learned during dinner that he was the Mayor of a local city and the lead singer of a rock band. I felt a little awkward, maybe even a tad unworthy, but what the hell? He asked me out.

What I didn’t learn during that dinner but could have easily guessed was that he was a player as well. But honestly, even if I had known, I really don’t think I would have changed things. I was dating someone. Someone other than my useless ex-husband found me attractive. It was out with the old and in with the new. I was surviving and enjoying simultaneously.

I knew we didn’t have a long-term future together: he ate out three meals a day, drank ONLY coca-cola, turned the a/c off in his house when he wasn’t home (In south Florida!!!) and he jumped at a free meal like the best of the Boca Raton Red Hat Ladies. But possibly the most irksome quality about Mr. Mayor was that he communicated primarily through text messages. But I was dating! We did movies and dinner together. We had a weekend getaway in Naples. I watched him rock the crowd on Friday nights and he loved my dog.

When we had been dating for a couple of months, however, he decided to tell me a little more about his past, specifically about how he cheated on his last live-in girlfriend with one of the area’s newscasters and as a result, his city will never get any news coverage from her. Why he decided to share this information is still a mystery to me. But even more specifically, he explained how the two women involved found out about his charade and confronted him, together, in his house. I got a great chuckle and a minor bout of stomach cramps from this conversation but since he was being so forthcoming, somehow it ended with us deciding to date only each other.

Or at least that’s what I thought. A couple of days later – 3 to be exact – a good friend breaks the news to me that Mr. Mayor asked out one of her colleagues. Since she knew we were supposedly together, she emailed him and asked him if he was seeing anyone. He gave a very vague answer and went on to say how he really wanted to take her to this upcoming event. I was going to be out of town for the event so I guess he needed an escort.  

Ok. Fine. He didn’t want to be monogamous. I had noticed while we were together that he had a virtual checklist: a checklist of all the things he wanted in a wife and I knew he wasn’t going to stop until he got them. All. And I didn’t possess them, nor did I really want to. And the final straw was incredibly immature way he handled the situation.

After things blew over a bit, I called him to see if I could stop by. I wanted to end things quickly but painlessly. We were both adults, right? Not exactly. As he opened the front door, I got a really strange feeling. Maybe it was because he had rearranged the living room as if a therapy session was taking place with he as the therapist and me, of course, as the patient. I guess he knew that I wanted to end things, but he wasn’t going to let that to happen. HE wanted to end things. And that’s what he did.

He cut me off before I could say anything. He wanted me to commiserate with him that although we had a good time together, there really wasn’t any spark. What bothered him most was that he didn’t get butterflies in his stomach when he saw me. But he felt really bad for feeling this way.  He wanted me to know that I didn’t do anything wrong. He told me I was smart. And pretty. And asked me if I was ok – again, and again, and again. Yes, Mr. Mayor, although I will no longer be hanging out in a house with 2 liter Coke aplenty, I think I’ll be ok, especially because now I don’t have to watch the last movie in the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy. 

Mr. Offerdahl

One of the reasons I experience so much angst over the thought of dating is that I’m not really comfortable around men (yelp!). Never have been, at least not at first. But I do look forward to the day I grow out of this stage. I’m sure there are some unexplored paternal issues there, but I won’t get into that right now. Once I get to know a guy, I’m fine -- but at first, it’s rough.

This is one of the reasons I like working with a group of women my age (well almost anyway). It’s fun to gossip at lunch, hear about others’ love lives, crazy roommates and in-laws and basically feel better about my own life for an hour. But it can also be good for your love life, as I found while out to lunch one day. 

Four of us went out to a casual salad/sandwich place in town called Offerdahl’s and I happened to eye a nicely dressed, nice-looking guy. He was no Johnny Deep, but I was impressed with his outfit and most importantly, his shoes. This might not seem like such a big deal, but it’s not every day you see a nicely dressed man in south Florida, so ... to the shock of my fellow colleagues, I expressed my interest to them.

Apparently they were so shocked that I pointed out a cute guy in public that when I very innocently headed to the bathroom, they very not-so-innocently rummaged through my purse for my business card and passed it to him. Did they tell me this? I’ll let you answer that. Suffice it to say that I learned of this behind-the-scenes matchmaking when we went to leave and the man I happened to think was pretty cute calls out my name. 

I have to say, I was surprised and not surprised. So when he said my name, I turned around and I replied with, “they didn’t?” He, of course, said, “they did.” Keep in mind that the three giggly asses I work with were safely to the getaway car by now, hidden behind dark tinted windows. Unfortunately, Mr. Offerdahl was not quite as cute up close. He was nice looking enough but shorter than I thought and with the mouth of a hockey player.

The nice part about this story is that it ends with a lunch date -- one. The sad part is that it happened at none other than Offerdahl’s a couple of weeks later. And I still can’t run in there for a lunchtime sandwich without running into him. I don’t know how (I did well in physics but not that well), but every single time I’m there, he’s there too. I always make a point to look like I’m in a very big hurry and he usually follows up with an email about how good I looked and if I ever wanna get together again … Nah. 

Does love make you gain weight?

I’ve often heard friends talk about how they always managed their weight well … until they fell in love. There’s something about being smitten that makes you crave pizza on the couch with a romantic movie, ice cream sundaes on a park bench on a hot summer night and sleeping in instead of getting up early to exercise. Snuggling under the covers with a new loved one is much more fun than sweatin' to the oldies or pounding the pavement in the south Florida sun.

I don’t think any of us are immune to this. Plus, I always think that if I’ve found someone and he likes me just the way I am, no reason to hit the gym, right? Isn’t that part of the reason why the gym is so intimidating? Because it’s full of good-looking, in-shape single people wearing make-up and cute hair accessories (the women in particular, of course)?

So here’s a new article from the Chicago Tribune about this very subject.

http://www.chicagotribune.com/health/sns-health-avoid-couple-weight-gain,0,7641761.story

Social "Divorcing"

Not only have the advances in technology made dating more complicated -- with so many ways to break up with someone and so many different accounts and sites to check and see if your potential date has gotten back to you. According to Time magazine, it's got a place in divorce, too. Interesting and somewhat frightening article.

http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1904147,00.html

4 steps for success in dating after divorce 

http://www.articlesbase.com/dating-articles/dating-after-divorce-4-tips-for-success-964335.html

I'm charmed

They say marriage is charming partly because divorce is lousy. Check it out. 

http://www.yourtango.com/2007621/marriage-has-its-charm-partly-because-divorce-is-so-lousy.html 

Hooking Up

Who knew NPR had such insight into dating.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=105008712

Walking on the Moon

One of the things that worries me about dating at 34 is the bedtime preparation ritual. Since I’m not 18 anymore, I can’t fall into bed or even just go to sleep with someone without performing the bedtime routine. I mean I could, but I would look extremely frightening in the morning and more importantly, in the years to come. 

Sadly, I’m not even 25, so the routine doesn’t include just brushing my teeth and washing my face. There’s flossing, there’s eye cream, foot cream, the hairdo (sometimes even ear plugs or an eye mask, but that’s rare). Now I know I’m a bit more neurotic than most but aging isn’t pretty and I’m trying to do the best I can. My ex-husband didn’t really understand the whole thing, but he’s gone now.

The routine stepped up a notch when I started sleeping with a night guard in my mouth so my jaw doesn’t walk off with half my teeth and gums one day. It could be worse, of course, but the 12 year-old with a discolored retainer isn’t the exact look I’m going for. Talking doesn’t really work well with a night guard and usually involves drool. Kissing, as you can imagine, is out of the question. This, is my conundrum: if I don’t wear the guard, I wake up with a headache. But if I do wear it when I ever have an overnight guest, I'm afraid he'll never be my overnight guest again.

THEN, the routine leaped a GIANT notch recently when my podiatrist gave me a night splint for my heel spur to wear to bed. Now this thing (pictured here), is out-of-this-world ridiculous. If I were preparing for a trip to space, I would pack this very night splint, confident that it would enable me to walk on the moon. And the FOUR Velcro straps would keep me tied in snug as a bug in a rug. Clearly I don’t need to explain why I am sitting here puzzled.

And to answer your question, no, it does not fit under the covers.

 

Why is divorce so expensive?

Because it's worth it. 

Here are some other funny divorce quotes. 

http://divorcesupport.about.com/b/2007/08/29/funny-divorce-quotes.htm