I’ve heard of dating for dinner but dating for dollars? Hmm, who would have thought I could turn dating into a paying career?

Meet Einstein. I call him this not because I think he’s smart but because he looks like the Jewish genius. Matted hair and a 12 lb. mustache. This 49 year old has probably been trying to get a date online since the inception of the web.

“I am a confident man well established , looking for a confident secure woman.If you are such a woman please contact me. I have worked in the entertainment industry for years as a electronic engineer doing everything from design to special effects to show supervision.I like hiking,fishing,going to the movies and searching out out of the way restruants.”

He states that he’s an Engineer with some college. Although, by the looks of his eloquently written profile I think he may be lying. Nobody is going to accuse this guy of being overly intelligent.

This is what I received from Einstein last night:

"HiI am going to get to the point.I need a pretty lady to accompany me to a party I was invited to at my bosses house this Saturday August 29, I need her to be with me between approx. 3pm until 12PM or 1AM or maybe a little later.No money business, all I ask is she hang with me and not hit on any other guys while we are there, just show that she is with me.I am willing to pay for this service. If you are interested email me back with a price.Thanks again. Einstein"

So, I’m confused, is he offering to pay me or not? He states “No money business” but then says he’s “willing to pay for this service.” Again, he’s probably not about to win any IQ contests.

Einstein has written me before. I’d say three times in the last six months. Each time I’m unable to stop laughing at his pictures long enough to respond. I probably should have shot him back a simple “thanks but no thanks” after the third time but anyone who has read my feelings on the topic of responding knows why I didn’t. Apparently, since he couldn’t get my attention before, he’s now trying to bribe me. But now, in addition to him just being persistent he’s now creepy.

We’ll see how our date goes…

…I would. Twice.

This morning I woke up with the stark realization that I was all alone and there are only two episodes of my beloved “True Blood” left on HBO. I’m not sure which upset me the most. Unfortunately, HBO has yet to consult with me in regards to their show line-up and when they should be allowed to take a hiatus. I seem to have even less control over my downwardly spiraling love life.

Why am I so excruciatingly cheerful today? I’m glad you asked. Let’s backtrack two days…

Wouldn’t it just figure that within hours of deleting Nigeria #2 from my Facebook he would once again intrude into my already desperate life. Considering he has well over 300 friends I hardly thought he would notice. Whether or not he really had remains to be seen. All I know is that this is my life and therefore I’m not entirely surprised at his timing. I just didn’t feel like being constantly updated on his work ventures and all the reasons as to why he just didn’t have time for me.

Minding my own business and enjoying my self induced isolation I turned on a Dateline rerun and busted out my knitting. I can party like a rockstar and fuck like a pornstar but when all is said and done I’m really just a nerd…with a great rack.

My phone buzzed alerting me that I had a new text message. I went to check it and there it was…“What’s up Melissa?” Who knew that such an innocent question could piss me off so much? Never mind that his text was about 2 weeks late and he spelled my name wrong.

Me: Hey N2
N2: What’s up?
Me: Not much. U?
N2: Very busy, took time off this weekend but still worked a bit. I wanna start traveling more,
Me: Traveling is good. Gives u a chance to regroup
N2: How’s dating?
Me: Fine, I guess
N2: I’ve stopped trying to date. I figure things will happen when it happens.
Me: Good for you
N2: Thank you lol

After his last text I didn’t bother responding. He was clearly fishing and I wasn’t biting. Here was a guy that had fucked me twice, told me that my biological clock was about to start ticking and then left me high and dry with the old “I’m just too busy with work” excuse.

The only thing I got out of that experience was a cup of coffee and a bruised ego. He wasn’t even good enough in bed for me to keep as a booty call just for the sake of being local. Listen, if I’m going screw just for the sake of screwing I have plenty of other assholes in my arsenal with bigger cocks to hit up.

It really is such a shame because I could’ve seen myself liking this guy. Despite his knack for telling time he did seem to have a decent head on his shoulders and the most amazing upper body allowed by law. He was complimentary and seemed to be a rising star in his new business venture. He had even indicated that we were looking for the same things in terms of relationship and family. But I fucked him, he fucked up and it was time to move on. Perhaps, if he had just been honest with me from the beginning I would still be interested in keeping him around.

But the story doesn’t end there. Three hours later…

N2: Hey, what you doing tonight?
Me: (NOT seeing you!) I’m not feeling well so I plan on staying in bed.
N2: K. Get better
Me: Thanks.

And the next day:

N2: Wanna come over later?

What was it with this guy? Could he smell my desperation? Am I in heat? That’s the only reason I could see for this dog to come sniffing around again. Did I take the bait? Hell yeah, I did. Hey everybody, look at me! I’m the girl that can talk a lot of shit but what it all boils down to is that sometimes I need to feel wanted.

I dragged my pathetic ass over to his place like a wounded puppy. Once there, we chit chatted for a little bit. None of which held any interest for me. I have also yet to open up to him about my current situation in regards to money and work. In his presence I just want him to shut up and get naked. Funny how I can let this man see me in the buff but I can’t bring myself to let him know how fragile my psyche is at the moment. I’m not about to explain to him how I feel that if I walk too hard my whole world is going to come crashing in on itself.

He finally shut the hell up and we got down to business. I was ready to leave when he started asking me questions. “Are you working?” “Have you thought about going back to school?” “Have you checked Starbucks?” The last time I was there he told me I needed to start thinking about having babies and now he was suggesting I go sling coffee? He started off making suggestions on how I could better my situation like I was some retard that hadn’t thought of them yet myself. For some reason, I didn’t quite feel like explaining myself to him anymore. He started to drift off and I got up and got dressed. When I knelt down beside him on the bed to say I was leaving he looked startled.

N2: You’re leaving? I thought you were going to stay the night?
Me: I never said I was going to stay.
N2: Oh, I see. You just come and use me for sex (smirking). You show up at midnight, sleep with me and then leave. There aren’t that many of us out there.
Me: Oh, there are plenty of you out there.

I locked his door on my way out and headed home. Suddenly more depressed than I was before I got there. When I woke up this morning and realized that I was alone and hadn’t taken him up on his invitation to stay I was devastated. I was somewhat surprised by this feeling as I actually hate sharing my bed. I’ve gotten so used to sleeping alone that when my personal space is impeded upon I get restless and have a hard time sleeping. Or maybe my choice of bedfellows lately hasn’t exactly been worthy of staying over.

I think I’m gonna swear off men for a little while…

Men, let me give you a heads up. If you are fat and ugly it is probably not in your best interest to mention age or weight when emailing a woman. Unless you are talking about your own. Actually, that applies to all men but especially if you are nasty because I’m sure you can use all the help you can get.

Due to your unfortunate circumstances you probably don’t have much experience in this department but for the love of God would you at least ask another female to read what you are sending out? Ask your neighbor, ask your sister, ask your grandmother for all I care because telling a 31 year old that you are looking for an older woman is not going to help your current lonely situation…or your rapidly developing Carpel Tunnel Syndrome. Really, how has that “older woman” line been workin' for ya? Not really? I wonder why…

That being said, this is the second time this week that I have been deemed the older woman. I guess you could say you found my trigger. I’ve been called a lot of things in my day and for the most part they are probably true. But for some reason this is really getting me worked up. I’ll even agree that I’m slightly overreacting but damnit I just hit my 30’s! I’m not dead yet!

I typically attract older men. I think older men tend to appreciate a woman with some curves more than the average male in his 20’s. Especially in LA where beauty is defined by the size of ones waist. And yes, using the term “Older Men” is not lost on me. We all know there is a double standard when it comes to aging and the sexes. Lately, I seem to be attracting puppies. I haven’t changed my profile. I have changed my pictures. Hell, I’ve barely logged on in the last week or so. I’m not sure what pheromones I’m giving out to attract such youngsters but I’m totally over it.

Meet Enrique. He’s 25, 5’8” and lives in Palmdale. Without going any further I can tell you he’s too short, too far and too young. He’s Hispanic and bald. Under body type he’s listed as Big & Tall/BBW. Big? Yes. Tall? NO. A Big Beautiful Woman? I think not. His Profession? Professional. Well, glad we cleared that up.

BBW Enrique is looking for an “Intimate Encounter”. There is absolutely nothing about his pictures that screams to me “Hey, I need to go get me some lovin from this guy”. If anything, I get the strange feeling that I want to dust him in flour and throw him in the oven. Not sure where that comes from but he sort of reminds me of the Pillsbury Dough Boy only with an olive complexion.

Here’s what he had to say in his profile (my remarks are in bold italics):

"I'm not very good at describing myself. I Live in Palmdale, I'm 25, I work full-time and I'm on here for the 1st time looking to see what's out there. I'm trying to post my profile but keep getting an error message that my "description is too short" (just like him).

Alright then here goes...BLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLA
BLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLA
BLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLA
BLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLA
BLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLA
BLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLABLA...."(I love a man that speaks his mind).

Here’s the email that I received:

"I loved reading ur profile. Ur honesty is so refreshing. With that in mind I'll give u honesty too (ooooooo, I can’t wait. I just love a man that has read my profile and can dish it out too. If there was an eye rolling emoticon it would go here. And “ur” and “u”? Really? He can’t actually write out “you’re” and “you”?)

My dream girl is someone who is older than me (there it is!), a blonde with a voluptuous figure (more flattery I presume). Someone who is down to earth and loves sex as much as i do. (Fucking gross! Unless you find having sex with a Hispanic doughboy as sexy. I just know he has a tiny wiener. Seriously, the fatter the man, the smaller his pecker. It’s a proven fact. Sorry, but I prefer to have sex and not just be finger banged…oh yes, I went there).

I'm pretty much a virgin cuz i haven't had sex in such a long time. (Trust me, this I already knew).

I like my head shaved but u said u want someone with some hair...damn! I can grow it out for u. (Yes, because that’s the only reason why I won’t go out with you? Alllllriiiighty then).

What i'm trying to say is if u were to give me shot I'd take FULL advantage of it. That's me being sincere. I grew up in North Hollywood but now live in this awful desert they call Palmdale (at least we agree on something). I knew I should have stayed in North Hollywood (back to disagreeing), where the Heck else would I ever run into a woman like YOU!. God bless the internet"

...and God help ME!

…that is the question. Over the years, I’ve had great debates revolving around online dating etiquette. There are those that prefer to receive responses to their emails regardless of outcome and those that don’t. I fall into the latter category.

I myself prefer not to be responded to if the other party is uninterested. If I were to email somebody and get nothing in return I’m going to get the hint. If you don’t like me, so what? I don’t need a reason because you aren’t important enough for me to care. And vice versa. If I don’t respond to you, for you to keep hounding me is going to really piss me off. In which case, I’m definitely not going to go out with you because frankly, you are creeping me out and smelling more desperate than an alcoholic at one of my family functions.

On the other side of the coin, I’ve heard people argue that it’s common courtesy. Ok, I’ll buy that. Using that same logic, I should also be responding to every email I get telling me I have just won the British lottery. If my days were 45 hours long then sure, I’d respond to every Tom, Dick, Harry and the occasional Nancy, but they’re not. Also, I don’t know Tom, Dick, Harry and Nancy and therefore owe them no explanations. While I’m sure they took time out of their day to write me an exquisitely crafted email asking me my weight and breast size I don’t think it’s necessary to tell them A) its none of their damn business and B) NO, I don’t have any more pictures to send them.

Really, how many answers are you going to get explaining why someone doesn’t want to go out with you? Their opinions of you have been solely based on a “picture and a paragraph” (about the only statement I find useful or truthful from Mr. Eharmony). So, think about it. They either think you are ugly or they think you are stupid. End of story.

If you ask me (I’m going to assume you did because I’m always right), contacting the unresponsive party again and again is just an excuse to try and engage them into some sort of communication in the hopes that that person will eventually see the light and realize how truly fabulous you may be.

I bring up this little tangent because I had this situation come up recently and it got me thinking. I received an email from a guy that was interested in me. It was a nice and pleasant email but truth be told I was simply not interested. I’m sure he was a great guy but I was highly unattracted to him. So, as is my usual practice in such situations, I ignored him. I didn’t want to come across as rude or hurt his feelings and I really didn’t think it necessary to tell him I thought he resembled Dom Deluise. But who knows? Perhaps that was exactly what he was looking for. He’s probably a fan of golden showers and being spit on too.

After I didn’t respond to his initial email, I received this:

“You can be honest I thought I wrote you a nice email what happened??”

To which I decided to respond because apparently "wballstar" was a glutton for punishment. He was also a big fan of the question mark but not so much a fan of periods or commas.

“Thanks for the email. I’m not interested.”

Apparently, that was not a good enough answer. I thought that telling him I was not interested was pretty straight forward. However, he again pushed the issue.

“Can I ask you why you put a profile on here to meet guys and you see I would like to talk you no, how come??? What’s wrong with me?”

At this point, I was seriously beginning to wonder about this guy...and his grammar. Why push the issue? I was pretty clear about not being interested. Was it really necessary for me to tell him I thought he was fat, ugly and balding? That I didn’t care for his goatee or that he lived in Long Beach and I was looking for someone a littler closer? I was torn in that I could have been perfectly blunt and completely within my rights to be so since he kept pushing me for an answer. What part of “I’m not interested” did he not understand? But, I was trying to be tactful and spare his feelings since he was incapable of understanding the written English language. I must have been bored or just plain irritated because I responded once more.

“I put a profile on here to meet people, yes. I am not however interested in meeting you.”

Now, I figured that if he hadn’t gotten the point before that this would surely point out the fact that I was never going to go out with him. I got this in return:

“So I guess your all that and a bag of chips huh lol!! Good luck to you. ‘The world needs more people like you’”

Two things here about his Custer’s last stand. One, he’s right. I do think I’m all that and a bag of chips. Two, I whole heartedly agree with that last sentence he quoted. The world does need more people like me. I’m fucking rad. Except, I didn’t get the feeling he was trying to compliment me. His sarcasm was not amusing. This was about the oddest backhanded insult I had ever received. I was not only irritated with him but I was irritated with myself for having spent so much time on this lonely asshole. Having been provoked and feeling the need to have the last word, I wrote back one last time.

“Yes, I do think I’m ‘all that and a bag of chips.’ Now stop bothering me.”

Upon replying, I realized I had actually gotten suckered into engaging in a communication with a person that I was clearly never going to meet face to face. Now do you realize how much time I would have saved if I had just done what I always do and simply not responded? By responding to him I only opened the door for more questions that did not need to be answered. His constant barrage of emails did make me want to meet him…if only to kick the ever loving shit out of him for wasting my time and being weird and pathetic.

Meet Joe. He’s 23, short, lives in New York and has this to say in his profile:

Interests: Looking for a long term relationship with no bs or drama.

First Date: Depends on the mood. I can do both. I like to go out to dinner and a movie or we can stay in a watch it and order out.

He’s a “Personal Trainer; Cashier” and looking for a long term relationship. No kids and undecided/open about the prospect of having any.

His email to me:

"Hello my name is Joe. I was just browsing thru some profiles in when I came across your page. I think your a very hot older woman and since this is an online dating site I thought that maybe you would be interested to talk. If you are you can hit me up on yahoo at sadist666 or msn at seriouslysadistic (Yes, I just made those up). I have a cam on there so you can see more of me if you want. Hope to talk to you soon. Bye."

This is what I take away after reading his profile and email:

1. He’s not a fan of proofreading.
2. He’s very original. We can go to dinner and a movie or stay in and watch one with take-out. How clever.
3. He doesn’t know the difference between “your” and “you’re”. Which happens to be a personal pet peeve of mine along with “there”, “their” and “they’re”.
4. He’s a master of the obvious. This is an online dating site? Really? Oh shit, that explains a lot.
5. “I have a cam…so you can see more of me” really means “I’m going to pull out my junk within minutes of Instant Messaging with you.”
6. His pictures scream more cashier and less personal trainer.

What his profile didn’t mention was that he’s clearly into sadomasochism. After reading his email last night it’s quite obvious that he’s looking for a beating. Also, I’m 31, people!!! I’m not a “cougar”. I’m not “past my prime” and my biological clock is “not ticking”.

What I am, is someone that’s about to school Mr. Joe on what manners are. Ok, not really. I’m just going to do what I do best. And that’s make him cry. He’s still a puppy and needs to be trained. If he ever has a chance of getting laid, Joe needs to learn how to talk to women because “Joe momma” (hehe) didn’t teach him very well.

Dear Joe,

I would have responded last night but I couldn’t find my bifocals. While I’m flattered (not really) that you would take the time to write me, I’m going to have to pass on your invitation to talk and view your webcam. Also, I live in California and find that a 4000 mile commute is a bitch.

But, feel free to contact me if you’re ever in the area, you’ve grown six inches and have successfully completed puberty.

Till then, good luck in your cougar search.

Sincerely,
The Older Woman

Continuing on in my journey to spread misery to those that take the time to read my shit, I promise not to disappoint today.

Think back to January of this year, if you will. It was a new year, I was employed and I was screwing a personal trainer. Sure, my job was unfulfilling but at least my car payments were up to date and I wasn’t in constant hiding from my roommate during the first of the month.

I gave up on making New Year’s resolutions long ago but deep down I just knew that this was to be my year. The year where I would not only succeed in all endeavors but flourish. I had made up my mind to focus on bringing out and working on all the creative passions I had for so long kept hidden and hopefully find a mate in the process. Now that I think about it that does sound sort of resolution-ish.

I felt good and I had the Chinese on my side to back it up. I just needed to get to January 26th and all my worldly dreams would be mine for the taking. Take a look at what the Chinese had to say about my 2009 (keep in mind, I was born in 1977 making me a Snake). I have highlighted my favorite parts…:

"Snakes are the Ox’s best friends and vice versa. You are both slow and deliberate and your energies similar. So this coming Ox year for Snakes will be beneficial, productive and personally valuable. You will be back in your native groove and enjoying the type of languid mood in which you always concoct your best schemes and are able to carry off projects that needed finishing or topping up. Last year really slowed your progress to a slithery crawl. But the Ox appreciates your quiet sense of esthetics and is always there to help you realize your dreams. Love is back too. You’ll be feeling more romantically intense than you have been in awhile. Reason? Some of your money and chronic health troubles are behind you. Do remember though that the Ox is a demanding old character and does not tolerate a lazybones. One has to show a willingness and an ability to labor under duress in Ox years and even though the Ox favors you and considers you his pet, you will still have to put your pretty little nose to the grindstone and get cracking on projects and problems left undone in previous (less benevolent) years.

If a bird flies into your house, do you panic and think someone will die? If you step on a crack do you still believe your will break your mother's back? If you break a mirror, are you certain you will have to endure seven years bad luck? If you reply is yes to any of the above, then you are afflicted with superstition. Of course it isn't terminal and cannot be treated with antivirals or antibiotics. But an excess of superstition often besieges the psyches of Snake people and causes them excessive worry. You are given to other worldly experiences. Sometimes you actually know about things before they happen. This year that quality may spook you and make you more fidgety than usual. Snakes need a spiritual outlet. When they don't have one, their subconscious works overtime. This year, get your mojo working in some sort of spiritual way - religion, metaphysics, mediation or chanting etc. - just so your conscious mind can focus on making a living.

The Ox wants to see you happy. He or she is your best friend and biggest booster. You're on the same wave length. But you are more beautiful. Oxen are more useful. If you must fall in love this year, you might want to choose an Ox partner. Oxen are going places for the next 12 years. An Ox spouse would be a real asset for a luxury hungry Snake person."

Okay????? So, what the fuck happened? This year has been anything BUT hopeful and positive. If anything, I’m wondering if this was supposed to be a good year God help me when it’s not.

So here I go. I’m ready to unleash...

Since my “New Year” began I have been laid off twice. Unfortunately, I was being paid under the table at both places so I’m not eligible for unemployment benefits. Even though I have paid into them for the 12 years prior to this past year. I’ve applied to every job under the son and still have gotten less than a handful of responses. It was brought to my attention (by someone trying to be helpful) that the clerical field was oversaturated with people looking for work. Basically, meaning that anyone hiring for simple data entry up to an Executive Assistant position has their pick of the crop. I’m not lying when I’ve seen job listings requesting a Bachelor’s Degree, some overtime and a laundry list of expectations and responsibilities for $9 an hour. I don’t know about you but that doesn’t say much about wasting my time getting a degree if that’s what I have to look forward to. Now remember, I don’t have a degree so I’m pretty much fucked. My friend, Mr. Obvious, suggested I broaden my horizons. Great. In theory. Where should I broaden to? All I’ve ever done was administrative. So, you tell me where I can apply and hopefully make more than $10/hr in a new field with no experience and I will personally hand deliver my resume. Until then, shut the fuck up.

My next gripe. I did finally get a call back earlier this week in regards to a job. I interviewed and nailed it with my sparkling personality. The hourly wage was not agreed upon during the interview but she was well aware of what I had been making and my experience level. She verified my references and called me the next day to offer me the position. I was ecstatic. Until she told me what I would be making. With excitement in her voice she told me that she would be paying me $11 an hour like she was doing me some goddamn favor. But, a job is a job and I’m desperate so I told her I’d see her Monday.

Here’s my dilemma. This job is not quite full time as she had led me to initially believe. It is, in fact, only 32.5 hours a week. At $11/hr I’m looking at $357.50 a week take home since she also wants to start me out “under the table” during my FOUR month probation period.

Next, this job is over an hour away, one way, during rush hour. I’m easily looking at roughly 12 hours sitting in traffic every week. This I was aware of when I applied for the job and would gladly do…IF I WOULD BE MAKING MORE THAN $357 A WEEK! Basically, due to the location, you can subtract about $50 right off the top for gas alone.

Now, how the hell am I supposed to look for another job, let alone interview if I’m spending everyday either sitting in traffic or working for Ms. Generosity? By trying to make some green I’m actually putting myself in the red. For $1200 a month, I’m supposed to pay rent, car payment, car insurance (already in the red at this point), phone, cable and food. I haven’t even added in shampoo/conditioner, toothpaste, or paying back any of the friends with a dollar to share back. Fuck birthdays, anniversary’s and tampons because I won’t be able to afford them.

As if that wasn’t bad enough. By me taking this job I would have to flake on a friend of mine that was going to pay me to help her work a convention in Las Vegas during the first week of September. For $357, I’m giving up a free trip to Vegas and the $500 she was going to pay me AND leave one of my best friends high and dry when she needed me the most. I’m letting down a friend and losing $143 in the process.

I actually feel worse after getting this job offer than I did before I had interviewed. I feel deeply insulted. At this point, I’m angry at everyone.

Another helpful friend of mine wrote “Just think of those without a job. I’ll keep you in my prayers”. Oh really? Great. I’ll keep them in mind when I am sleeping on my dads couch because even though I will be working full time I can’t pay my damn rent. Guess what? I don’t give a flying fuck about other people struggling right now. Just as I’m sure they could care less about me. Right now I’m my only concern. And correct me if I’m wrong, but if I’m working my ass off everyday then why am I sleeping on a couch in somebody else’s home. If I’m forced to crash in somebody else’s house then I’m not working full time, hours away for some cunt that refuses to pay me what I’m worth.

My love life is fairing about the same as my professional life but I’ll save that bitch for another day. Until then I just want you all to know that the Chinese are a bunch of fucking liars. So there, I’m now a fucking racist too.

Have a great day ya’ll!

I’m making a new rule. Actually, I’m making two new rules. First being, to no longer date men that are good looking or have beautifully sculpted, perfectly proportioned, chiseled, oh, are you in the room? Sorry about that. Basically, no more good looking men. And secondly, no more men from Nigeria. Hopefully, I’m not alone in noticing that Nigeria has been stalking me. With my hundredth (and second Nigerian) online date perhaps in order to change my end result I need to stop dating the same damn guy and doing the same damn thing.

Initial contact was made by Nigeria #2. His deep, thoughtful and caring email went something like this…

”Care to chat?”

How could I not respond? His email embodied all the things any girl could hope for. It took me a while to come up with quite the right retort. After much thought I came up with just the perfect response…

“Yes.”

With those four little words our blossoming romance was in full gear.

The next day we met at Starbucks. His pictures were right on. Conversation seemed to roll smoothly although I couldn’t quite tell whether he liked me or not. We talked for about an hour or so and he suggested we walk outside. Standing next to my car we continued the conversation. That is until a big, black bumblebee the size of a small terradactyl tried to carry me away. Let me assure you, nothing spells sexy like a 6’ blonde woman running and screaming through the parking lot. I barely managed to survive the jaws of death (no thanks to Nigeria #2 who thought I was a) crazy and b) funny).

Apparently, thinking I could have been snatched from his life forever he wrapped his ginormous arms around me and asked if he could see me later for dinner. He gave me a kiss and said he would call in a bit. SCORE! Add one point to my plus column.

We saw each other twice after our initial meeting. They basically consisted of bedroom gymnastics and I thought things were going well. He asked me to spend the night both times but I politely declined, not ready for him to see the “morning me”. Trust me when I tell you it’s not pretty. He even went so far as to call me…during the day…and talk! I don’t mean dirty talk either. He just wanted to talk about his day and see how I was doing. It was nice to think he wasn’t delegating me to strictly booty call status. Combine that with him looking for a “Long Term Relationship” and things were looking promising.

He asked me why “an attractive and funny” girl like myself was still single. I told him “Why not?” He didn’t seem to find that so funny. He asked if I wanted to have children. I told him yes. In jest, he suggested we make some. I suggested we wait a few days. My heart was his for the taking when he told me I only had four more years until my biological clocked stopped. After I stabbed him in the face with an ice pick…

Fast forward three days later. I called Nigeria #2 to see how he was doing but never got a call back. Knowing he was busy working on his new company I cut him some slack. Two days later I sent him a text asking when we might be able to get together again.

Nigeria #2: Honestly, I’m just too busy with everything in my life to hang out

Nigeria #2: Sorry.

Me: (Realizing the cause was lost) No need to apologize. Good luck to you.

So, with that our great love affair was over. Until the phone rang two minutes later…

I picked up the phone and Nigeria #2 explained to me he wasn’t trying to blow me off, he was just really busy. He said he hoped I didn’t think he was trying to be rid of me. He also said that if he wasn’t still interested he wouldn’t have bothered texting me back or calling me. I told him I understood. He said he would try calling me later.

That call never came. I don’t even think I’m really that disappointed. He wasn’t that fantastic in bed and more than once I found myself yawning while he talked endlessly about plans for his new and thriving business. What I will miss is his body. Tall, big biceps, ripped abs, and a perfect ass. THAT, my friends, I will miss. His face wasn’t much to look at but I didn’t find myself looking at his face much anyway.

This whole experience was pretty much the same as many before. Decent guy, lots of attention in the beginning then nothing. What did surprise me though was that despite his lack of time to spend with a potential love interest, he managed to find time to update his profile…twice (not that I was looking). Which just made it clear to me he didn’t consider me quite the catch I thought I was. So, why did he bother calling me back after my “good luck to you” text? I would have been okay with just leaving it at that. Did he just want to make sure that I didn’t walk away from the experience feeling as though he was an asswad? I’m really not sure. Either way, I still think he’s a douchebag.

Lesson learned? Stop going out with good looking men and stop going out with Nigerians. Better yet, stop going out with good looking Nigerians.

Nigeria #2’s Profile:

If I were a girl, I'd date me!

I believe that meeting someone online "in-person" for the first time must be effortless. You don't get a second chance to make a first impression so if you flake for any reason, or take my number and not call me within 48 hours, we won't get along.I have zero tolerance for indecisiveness, games and flakes. So here I am in a nutshell. More in detail when we meet. I'm driven, hard working and a good catch. I think your friends and family would like me. I think you'll fall head over heels in love with me if you get to know me. I'm at the stage in my life where I would be interested in a fun, meaningful, long-term relationship, taken one phase at a time. We don't have to jump right into anything serious, but it would be nice to meet someone that I enjoy sharing my time with and vice versa. If you think we'll pair well together, I'd like to hear from you and please feel free to ask questions. Thanks! – Nigeria #2

Disclaimer: My apologies for being straightforward. It's my personality. I would be interested in meeting like minds a/k/a straight shooters. Take a look again at my pics, what you see is a man who knows what he doesn't want. Any women up for the challenge?

My translation: I’m your typical male. I’ll be hot and heavy in the beginning but bore of you easily. I want a long term relationship but don’t have time for one. I do however have time to constantly log onto my online dating account. “I’m straightforward” really means I’m going to tell you that you are old and your biological clock is ticking. Don’t bother calling me because I won’t return your calls but you better answer mine or I’ll consider you a flake.

Come to think of it…I probably would have initiated the conversation if he had actually written that. In the sordid world of online/internet dating honesty is hard to find and refreshing once found.

Online dating is like Groundhog Day. Same shit, different day.

As if high school didn’t suck enough, here you are making me feel like the overweight, tall chick that didn’t go to Prom. I hate you and here’s why….

Every single one of my former classmates is happy and grateful for the fucking fantabulous lives that they have. Hm, oh really? How is that even possible? The odds are just not in favor of that and numbers don’t lie. How is it that out of the 600 some odd people that I went to school with I’m the only one that feels like shit? I’m the only one that isn’t in a blissful relationship. I’m the only one struggling financially. And I’m the only one not happy professionally.

Just because you are “friends” on Facebook with one of the so-called “Popular” people from high school does not mean that you are friends with them in real life. Guess what nerds, geeks, fat kids and color guard...those popular kids are now popular adults and still think you are a retard. So, please stop with the little messages to Nicky and Barbie wishing them happy birthday because they won’t return the favor when it’s your big day.

Your kids are NOT cute! I’m really, really happy for you that you have half a dozen kids, one on the way and a Scotty dog but I’m not going to leave you little messages telling you how adorable I think your kids are. The truth is that unless those little shits are related to me, they aren’t cute. They make a lot of noise and get dirty. And 10 bucks says you are probably one of “those” mothers that never say no to their kids. So here’s a newsflash for you…I’m probably not the only one that thinks your kids are devils spawn.

Ugly people should not have access to a camera. This includes all awkward emo teenagers trying to act like vampires. You aren’t cute either and it only took me one picture to come to this decision. I’m not quite sure why you feel it necessary to post 125 pictures of your face with different expressions and from different angles. I got it the first time. Also, pictures you take of yourself trying to be sexy ??? Are you serious? Keep that shit between you and your significant other. I don’t need to see your fat face licking your lips while lying in bed when I’m trying to email my aunt.

Don’t use your Status Update as a way to send a direct message to your honey. Especially more than once. You can post that shit directly on their wall. Or better yet, that’s what email is for. Reading “Cunt Smith: is so happy you came into my life” makes me want to gag. Is she talking to me? I should be so honored.

People in love. I detest these people more than catching Anthrax. For God’s sake, give it a rest with all the “waiting for Douchebag Jones to get off work”, “Douchebag Jones and I are going to the movies”, “Douchebag Jones just made me breakfast”. Heaven forbid you and Douchebag Jones breakup you will have quite an accurate breakdown of all the things you used to do together. Have fun cleaning up your Facebook page, moron.

The prettier you are, the happier you are. And they LOVE everybody! They love their friends! They love their family! They love their jobs! They love Facebook! Will somebody please stab me in the eye?

And I can’t forget the retard that feels it necessary to post every time he’s taking a shit. How does this person get anything done if after every time he inhales, he has to let us know about it? “Retard Lopez is waiting for that call”, “Retard Lopez is on his way to lunch”, “Retard Lopez is tearing up the strip in Vegas”, “Retard Lopez is sleeping”. NO YOU AREN’T! Worse yet, you are THAT guy can’t seem to stop playing with his phone while at the Blackjack table. Yes, you. No, you are not cool because you have an iPhone. You are an idiot because you are holding up the game while letting us know you just split two 7’s. Well, good for you Mr. Nobody.

So, here’s what I think is really going on behind closed doors. The people that are always happy have a gimp tied up in their closet. Barbie’s husband is gay and sleeping with her brother. The pretty people are shallow and more prone to suicide once they get their first crows foot. Those darling little children are gonna grow up and commit school shootings and those emo, photo happy teenagers are…well, there gonna grow up and be the nerds that post “happy birthday” messages to the popular kids on Facebook.

Of course, I could just stop going on Facebook but what fun would that be?

In my never ending quest for self perfection I’m often filled with questions as to why I can’t seem to find and keep a man…without physical restraints that is.

To put it bluntly, I’m amazing. I’m tall, blonde, cute, funny, smart, have a great rack, a healthy sexual appetite and plenty of junk in the trunk. What’s not to love? Equally self deprecating, I drink too much, smoke too much and well, that’s it really. And those two things are easily changeable. Especially as I get older and the desire to get rip roaring drunk every weekend dissipates.

On one hand, I’ve been told that I appear uninterested. I suppose if I appeared more desperate and in need of male companionship I would have gotten further. But the truth is I don’t need a man. I would like one but I don’t need one. I love the fact that I’m independent and comfortable in my own skin. Needing someone to validate your existence is just plain weak.

So, being as I’m still on a speaking basis with some of the men I’ve dated I decided to ask a few of them what it was that made me “unrelationshipable”. Yes, I just made up my own word. Like it? For the most part, I agreed with the responses I got. Distance, not ready for a relationship at that time, etc. All of which I was in complete agreement with. If the mutual desire to become committed to each other is not there it can’t be forced. No spark = no spark. It’s as simple as that.

Then I had a conversation with “Shithead” (July 14th entry since I can’t seem to figure out how to link old entries into current ones. I did mention I was blonde, right?). I clearly had no desire to be his Girl Friday but I was interested in why someone so bent on playing the role of bachelor was so quick to jump into a relationship right after we had stopped seeing each other. What he had to say certainly surprised me. I still have a headache trying to decipher the meaning. Below, is part of the IM conversation we had:

Me: I’m just curious why I’m not the “relationship” type. And I know you will be honest with me.

Shithead: You’re too much fun. That’s why.

Me: I’m “too much fun”? Wow, I’ve never heard that one before.

Shithead: You are. Always ready to party. Not just drinking. Just in general.

Me: you are just trying to get laid, aren’t you?

Shithead: lol

Me: Seriously, I just want a male point of view

Shithead: I’m giving it to you

Me: You are lying. Too much fun??? As awesome as that sounds it’s just not realistic

Shithead: See, we just need someone who is always ready to party just not partying all the time. Someone who can sit still for 5 minutes.

Me: I totally sat still for 5 minutes with you. Didn’t I actually re-teach myself to knit in your apartment???

Shithead: lol

Apparently, I’m such a fascinating person that even when I’m measuring yarn and counting stitches I’m fun! Now, I’ve been trying to wrap my mind around that conversation for days. I even went so far as to try and get another males point of view. He said that he could see where Shithead was coming from but when asked to explain it couldn’t seem to find the words. What the fuck does “too much fun” mean anyway? Isn’t that supposed to be a good thing? I want a man that enjoys my company. Not somebody that expects me to sit at home and wait for him to be ready to have a good time. Am I being penalized here for trying to make the best out of any situation and enjoy the life that I do have? Seriously, I just don’t get it.

So, I guess it looks like I have a long life of singledom to look forward to unless I play down my FUN-ness…