<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="no"?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:blogger="http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980</id><updated>2024-11-05T21:53:01.073-05:00</updated><category term="dating"/><category term="online dating"/><category term="family"/><category term="1st dates"/><category term="conversation"/><category term="annoying"/><category term="manners"/><category term="Southern"/><category term="awkward dates"/><category term="Facebook"/><category term="I don't drink"/><category term="Mom"/><category term="Water Guy"/><category term="Yankee"/><category term="divorce"/><category term="marriage"/><category term="old-fashioned"/><category term="turnoffs"/><category term="2nd dates"/><category term="Mr. Big"/><category term="Mr. Wonderful"/><category term="age"/><category term="awful dates"/><category term="future"/><category term="gentleman"/><category term="non-divorced"/><category term="overload"/><category term="radio silence"/><category term="strange"/><category term="what if"/><category term="30"/><category term="3rd dates"/><category term="North vs. South"/><category term="alone"/><category term="booze"/><category term="friends"/><category term="long distance"/><category term="old loves"/><category term="phone calls"/><category term="rude"/><category term="sex"/><category term="solo"/><category term="sports"/><category term="stories"/><category term="thirtysomething"/><category term="vacation"/><category term="Aaron Karo"/><category term="Carolina"/><category term="Eharmony"/><category term="Mashable"/><category term="ass"/><category term="bad news"/><category term="basketball"/><category term="boring dates"/><category term="clothes"/><category term="death"/><category term="dining"/><category term="douche bags"/><category term="filter"/><category term="flirting"/><category term="giggle"/><category term="hope"/><category term="lonely"/><category term="lost"/><category term="money"/><category term="morning after"/><category term="mortified"/><category term="one night stand"/><category term="pains"/><category term="race"/><category term="random"/><category term="religion"/><category term="romance"/><category term="single"/><category term="stupid"/><category term="ugly"/><category term="virgin"/><title type="text">My So-Called Online Dating Life</title><subtitle type="html"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default?redirect=false" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/" rel="alternate" type="text/html"/><link href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" rel="hub"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false" rel="next" type="application/atom+xml"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><generator uri="http://www.blogger.com" version="7.00">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>45</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><xhtml:meta content="noindex" name="robots" xmlns:xhtml="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"/><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-6487654682652225188</id><published>2011-05-14T12:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T12:17:36.322-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="1st dates"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="online dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="what if"/><title type="text">Been MIA for way too long</title><content type="html">Obviously, I haven't posted in quite a while, but to be honest, all I do now is work. &amp;nbsp;I really thought work (or more accurately a job I hoped for, dreamed for, and ultimately got) would provide a total sense of self. &amp;nbsp;And it has to some degree. &amp;nbsp;When I was working for my family, I had little sense of self-worth in the professional way. &amp;nbsp;It's amazing how much a job defines you. &amp;nbsp;So, I thought when I achieved that part, the rest would follow. &amp;nbsp;And, it hasn't.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I really enjoyed blogging too, but that has also suffered with conference calls almost every evening between the hours of 7pm to 10pm. &amp;nbsp;You might wonder why I have calls at this hour, but I handle the Chinese and Japanese markets and they are exactly 12 and 13 hours the reverse of EST time. &amp;nbsp;My weekends have, therefore, become a haven of undisturbed me time. &amp;nbsp;The consequence is that I am overly tired and basically want to sleep the entire time. &amp;nbsp;The irony is that for the most part I like my job...I just want some balance, but I am unsure how to achieve it. &amp;nbsp;Working from home a couple days a week would help, but it wouldn't give back my social life during the week. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, no hilarious stories to share, but I think I have a date tomorrow night with a Global Expansion Consultant who's first message on Ok Cupid was:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: Verdana, 'Bitsream Vera Sans', sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 19px;"&gt;"I love the idea of lying on the couch with my girlfriend, asking "what do you want to do today?" and the answer being, "let's just go to the airport and decide there."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
If that isn't my idea of perfection, I don't know what is. &amp;nbsp;So fingers crossed, it will be a great date and maybe the start of something more or at least a reboot of "My So-Called Dating Life".</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/6487654682652225188/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2011/05/been-mia-for-way-too-long.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="1 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/6487654682652225188" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/6487654682652225188" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2011/05/been-mia-for-way-too-long.html" rel="alternate" title="Been MIA for way too long" type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-4281003122030586742</id><published>2011-02-08T20:34:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T12:00:36.696-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="age"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="old-fashioned"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="one night stand"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="stories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="thirtysomething"/><title type="text">Nothing like a 1 night stand to dull the pain...</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Except when it ends in severe back pain and a urinary tract infection! &amp;nbsp;So, obviously, I haven't been a dating machine lately partly due to Mr. Big and partly due to the new job and partly due to the uglies that I've been contacted by lately. &amp;nbsp;Several of my friends have suggested that the job needs to go since the blog has suffered as a result...well that's not going to happen, but I do have some stories...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Several weeks ago, a friend of mine came to visit and brought Bill. &amp;nbsp;Neither slept Friday night and came directly to Charlotte Saturday morning and arrived around 9am. &amp;nbsp;We started drinking and talking...well at least my friend and I did. &amp;nbsp;Bill dosed in and out of consciousness from the drinking and lack of sleep. &amp;nbsp;We ended up going out in Charlotte. &amp;nbsp;Came back home and somehow Bill and I made out...nothing serious but it was entertaining considering I wasn't sure he was going to be conscious when the day started out. &amp;nbsp;This didn't end with the UTI, thank goodness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Fast forward to this past weekend, I go to dinner with some friends and we go to a bar (not very exciting and very typical for a 30-something). &amp;nbsp;I end up talking with Mr. Pennsylvania and end up picking him up. &amp;nbsp;I haven't picked someone up at a bar in quite some time, so at first, I'm pleased with myself when we end up back at his place. &amp;nbsp;Then, the dance begins and we get down to business and I mean a lot of business. &amp;nbsp;So many times, in fact, that he says don't you ever get tired and are you going to be ready in the morning? &amp;nbsp;To which I reply, well we're already on the 5th time, I think I can handle another round in the morning or something to that effect. &amp;nbsp;Morning comes with a big headache and the "oh shit" realization of what the hell was I thinking, but we go at it AGAIN. &amp;nbsp;I think I am a super star until I get home and my back starts to hurt and my head hurts to boot. &amp;nbsp;I think hang over--whatever...Monday morning comes and my back is KILLING me (which for me is a tell tale sign that I have a UTI). &amp;nbsp;I have to leave work and go to the doctor to get drugs and have been laid up in bed until now, Tuesday night. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;My DC friend was texting me kudos on my conquest on Sunday saying a night of pleasure should certainly be worth the pain of a headache...while I'll give her that, I'm not sure a UTI is. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Seems I tend to be regressing in my old age and apparently, my body just can't handle it anymore...but it's kind of nice to go back to the old fashioned way of doing things instead of dating online.&lt;/span&gt;</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/4281003122030586742/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2011/02/nothing-like-1-night-stand-to-dull-pain.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="1 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/4281003122030586742" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/4281003122030586742" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2011/02/nothing-like-1-night-stand-to-dull-pain.html" rel="alternate" title="Nothing like a 1 night stand to dull the pain..." type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-7242726249853599625</id><published>2011-02-08T20:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-08T20:06:44.843-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mr. Big"/><title type="text">And I got a response....kind of!</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="gmail_quote" style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Forwarded conversation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
From:&amp;nbsp;&lt;b&gt;Mr. Big&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gmail_quote" style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;"&gt;Subject:&amp;nbsp;&lt;b class="gmail_sendername"&gt;I got your note....&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gmail_quote" style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b class="gmail_sendername"&gt;&lt;/b&gt;-----------------------&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="undefined"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;I am somewhat limited to what I can say here because of where I am but I&lt;br /&gt;
didn't want to wait much longer.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My lack of response is because I have two very important and very busy&lt;br /&gt;
jobs - two jobs which I hate tremendously. &amp;nbsp;I work about 20 hours a day.&lt;br /&gt;
I sometimes don't have time to use the bathroom. &amp;nbsp;In the next few weeks&lt;br /&gt;
I will be in Philadelphia, Salt lake City, Columbia, SC, and Baltimore.&lt;br /&gt;
And, being on travel orders just makes me even more behind in my work.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Another reason is: I too have been thinking about us. &amp;nbsp;I'm not sure what&lt;br /&gt;
to do. &amp;nbsp;Bottom Line - The religion piece is very important to me. &amp;nbsp;That&lt;br /&gt;
is a show stopper.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I do love your family but that is not my sole motivation.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I will not taunt you or make empty promises again. &amp;nbsp;I know it is not&lt;br /&gt;
fair to you. &amp;nbsp;Its just me being stupid and unrealistic.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The war has changed me a great deal. &amp;nbsp;I made a huge effort to not let&lt;br /&gt;
that show. &amp;nbsp;I even tried to joke about it. &amp;nbsp;I can't tell you how&lt;br /&gt;
disgusted I am with the Army, the toxic leadership of generals in both&lt;br /&gt;
my jobs and how my life is overall. &amp;nbsp;I can't tell you the thoughts that&lt;br /&gt;
have crossed my mind about my life since I came back from the war. &amp;nbsp;I&lt;br /&gt;
can't remember when I've had a sound night's sleep.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was not just the senseless violence, the incredible stress and the&lt;br /&gt;
overwhelming responsibility; it was (again) the terrible management and&lt;br /&gt;
leadership I had to endure. &amp;nbsp;And, then, many of my subordinates would&lt;br /&gt;
betray me with their disloyalty. &amp;nbsp;I spent more time answering complaints&lt;br /&gt;
from my Soldiers when I was only enforcing discipline and standards -&lt;br /&gt;
AND making them do their duty....making them....it was all very&lt;br /&gt;
sickening.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And, since I've been back here at the pentagon all I've seen is&lt;br /&gt;
misconduct and incompetence and I'm the one who gets nailed all the&lt;br /&gt;
time....more work, less time off and held accountable for things totally&lt;br /&gt;
out of my lane. &amp;nbsp;And more stupid generals and senior officials who won't&lt;br /&gt;
listen. &amp;nbsp;The other day I had a one star general talk to me like I was a&lt;br /&gt;
piece of crap. &amp;nbsp;I thought, if we were in a bar, and he talked to me like&lt;br /&gt;
that; I would've been convicted of manslaughter.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, I have to make some decisions. &amp;nbsp;Unfortunately, those decisions have&lt;br /&gt;
to be weighed with regard to finances. &amp;nbsp;But, I want out. &amp;nbsp;I'm fed up.&lt;br /&gt;
Yet, I can't do anything else. &amp;nbsp;I hate my life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One thing I'm going to stop is cotillion. &amp;nbsp;So, you won't have to worry&lt;br /&gt;
about me and the "fairly tale" anymore.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't want to give up my house so my job hunt will be around here at&lt;br /&gt;
first. &amp;nbsp;The idea of running a hunting business in NC is a stupid pipe&lt;br /&gt;
dream.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think you are better off without me. &amp;nbsp;I'm 50 and I have very little&lt;br /&gt;
going for me. &amp;nbsp;I'll probably screw up any move I make so I'll have even&lt;br /&gt;
less going for me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thanks for reaching out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gmail_quote" style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gmail_quote" style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;"&gt;Mr. Big&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gmail_quote" style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gmail_quote" style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gmail_quote" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;My Response&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gmail_quote" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;From:&amp;nbsp;SoCalledDating&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gmail_quote" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I know you work tremendously hard and travel a lot. &amp;nbsp;I would like to think I'm not that needy but getting a phone call or or at least an answer might be asking too much. &amp;nbsp;I'm actually very proud of you for this and know this makes you an excellent leader.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;As for your bottom line, I am willing to convert to&amp;nbsp;Catholicism&amp;nbsp;given that it is very important to you. &amp;nbsp;I think fundamentally we have the same beliefs. &amp;nbsp;The Catholic church is a bit unfamiliar to me--I am willing to admit but open to exploring it. &amp;nbsp;You do, however, have to give me the option to do so.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;I don't think you are being stupid and unrealistic...maybe just not willing to give me a chance...actually us a chance...I know you have changed considerably since the war. &amp;nbsp;I can't imagine what you've gone through nor will I pretend to. &amp;nbsp;All I can offer is that I am happy to listen and willing to support you based on what you deem fit. &amp;nbsp;Given that you are rather private, I still extend that I am always available to listen no matter what time of day. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;Whether or not you choose to come to Cotillion or not, you will always have a place at my family's table for Thanksgiving. &amp;nbsp;I hope my note did not give you the impression that I would create any discomfort in you attending. &amp;nbsp;I hope you know that I am not and will never be that sort of person unless you decide to kill my mother, Studie, or anyone I care about.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;I think you have limited yourself in terms of your dreams. &amp;nbsp;Life is after all what we make it. &amp;nbsp;Some would say I was terribly wrong in hoping/expecting I would get my dream job in meshing China and marketing, yet I did. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;You underestimate yourself and do have a tremendous amount to give. &amp;nbsp;I am sorry that you hate your life so much. &amp;nbsp;I, naively perhaps, hoped I could give you a reason to not do so.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;I think that we offer a lot to one another. &amp;nbsp;We both give each other tremendous laughter sometimes in spite of &amp;nbsp;the other and that is the spice of life. &amp;nbsp;Some how in the midst of it all, I believe we deeply care for each other's happiness. &amp;nbsp;I will do what I can to help you regain your happiness even if lacking now. &amp;nbsp; Beyond that, we do share similar interests...we can both be as fancy as they come and as down home as they can get. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;I will be in town the weekend of the 22nd&amp;nbsp;visiting&amp;nbsp;Ellen. &amp;nbsp;I know you will likely be out of town, but I did want to let you know and if you're in town, I'd love to see you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;So-Called Dating&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;div class="gmail_quote" style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Forwarded conversation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
From:&amp;nbsp;&lt;b&gt;Mr. Big&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gmail_quote" style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;"&gt;Subject:&amp;nbsp;&lt;b class="gmail_sendername"&gt;I got your note....&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gmail_quote" style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b class="gmail_sendername"&gt;&lt;/b&gt;-----------------------&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"&gt;I think you should just forget about me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"&gt;Mr. Big&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div class="gmail_quote" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gmail_quote" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;My Response&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gmail_quote" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;From:&amp;nbsp;SoCalledDating&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gmail_quote" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;Guess that's your way of saying your're not interested. Ok, I'll leave you alone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="undefined"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #888888;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="gmail_quote" style="color: black; font-family: arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="undefined"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #888888;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Forwarded conversation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="undefined"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #888888;"&gt;Subject:&amp;nbsp;&lt;b class="gmail_sendername"&gt;I got your note....&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gmail_quote" style="color: black; font-family: arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="undefined"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #888888;"&gt;&lt;b class="gmail_sendername"&gt;&lt;/b&gt;-----------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="undefined"&gt;From:&amp;nbsp;&lt;b&gt;Mr. Big&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You don't understand. &amp;nbsp;Its not that I'm not interested. &amp;nbsp;My life is a&lt;br /&gt;
piece of crap. &amp;nbsp;I think you're better off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="gmail_quote" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;My Response&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gmail_quote" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;From:&amp;nbsp;SoCalledDating&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;Let me be the judge of what I'm better with or without. Again, I'll be&lt;br /&gt;
in town this weekend if you'd like to see me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;And as the finale, I got an "Out of Office Auto-response" saying he'd be on duty until the Monday after I got back from my trip to DC . I know this is tedious to read, but I've been back and forth and thought you'd like to go too...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/7242726249853599625/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2011/02/and-i-got-responsekind-of.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/7242726249853599625" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/7242726249853599625" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2011/02/and-i-got-responsekind-of.html" rel="alternate" title="And I got a response....kind of!" type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-1270474675746142968</id><published>2011-01-11T08:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T08:16:22.534-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="alone"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="lonely"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="radio silence"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="thirtysomething"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="what if"/><title type="text">And no response..</title><content type="html">So if you read my last post, &lt;a href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2011/01/seriously-seriously.html"&gt;Seriously, Seriously&lt;/a&gt;, you know that I wrote a letter to The Colonel or my Mr. Big about a week ago. &amp;nbsp;Plenty of time, despite the horrendous snow we just received, for him to get the letter and respond. &amp;nbsp;Of course, as I should've known/guessed, I have not gotten a response. &amp;nbsp;Clearly, I am still pining a bit and hoping for a different outcome which does not make any sort of rational sense. &amp;nbsp;I hate that about relationships, liking someone, loving someone, etc. &amp;nbsp;They are not rational; feelings don't work the way you want them to despite any attempt to control them. &amp;nbsp;I do think you have some ability to control your level of happiness by focusing on positive thoughts and drugs help too ;) &amp;nbsp;The "like" or "love feeling, however, a bit more tricky.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
With a positively boring weekend behind me...I was at home all weekend with my dog alone. Sad thing is I tried to make plans and I actually sabotaged my plans Friday night by falling asleep on the couch but I was exhausted. &amp;nbsp;Of course, when Saturday's plans fell through due to the flu of a friend and some serious car troubles of Non-Divorced guy, I wanted to kick myself for not getting the hell up on Friday. &amp;nbsp;There is nothing like being a single thirtysomething. &amp;nbsp;With the snow, I was snowed in yesterday and will be again today. &amp;nbsp;That's 4 days without much outside contact and way too much time to be alone with my thoughts. &amp;nbsp;This has led to some introspection especially regarding men. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What I've ruminated about is that I've almost always ended all of my relationships. &amp;nbsp;Then, afterwards, I wonder and/or pine about being with that person. &amp;nbsp;This is very much true with my last boyfriend in DC whom I found out this weekend got engaged over Christmas. &amp;nbsp;On one hand, in a very revenge-esque sort of way, yay for me for not being broke up with, but not really. &amp;nbsp;Or maybe, yay for me for recognizing deficiencies in relationships and acting accordingly or maybe, I really am a&amp;nbsp;commitment-phobe. &amp;nbsp;This does lead back to full circle as Mr. Big is the one that has controlled and ended our relationship (if you can call it that) and maybe that's why I feel this sense of it not being complete and why I want it. &amp;nbsp;Ugh...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Some other funny thirtysomething things--I bought flowers for myself for the first time and felt at the same time pathetic and have really enjoyed them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8TTnTNVwqcZRFitvBDl_VYHrFSbnNB-WubjiHo2mDZbkXyg8wNjTxnl-hOnpGamk954Xf_TkQtxu6Tl7sIlZRltnQrK-m09GcnS-R5XKUEAhI09cwwuTarC98TxLpL7ktPrQjUCnYqxY/s1600/flowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8TTnTNVwqcZRFitvBDl_VYHrFSbnNB-WubjiHo2mDZbkXyg8wNjTxnl-hOnpGamk954Xf_TkQtxu6Tl7sIlZRltnQrK-m09GcnS-R5XKUEAhI09cwwuTarC98TxLpL7ktPrQjUCnYqxY/s200/flowers.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Part of the problem is is that I really thought by getting a job and moving into my own place, I would feel complete. &amp;nbsp;Yet, I still feel a sense of deficiency and not being complete. &amp;nbsp;Clearly, being in a relationship has its own issues and they are not all hunky dory. &amp;nbsp;Truth is, I am lonely and while my faithful pup, Fabes, is great, &amp;nbsp;he doesn't talk back. &amp;nbsp;This is, of course, more apparent as I haven't really had a conversation other than to say thanks to the grocery person in 2/3 days. &amp;nbsp;Ok, enough self pity and back to working from home alone....&lt;/div&gt;</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/1270474675746142968/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2011/01/and-no-response.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="2 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/1270474675746142968" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/1270474675746142968" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2011/01/and-no-response.html" rel="alternate" title="And no response.." type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8TTnTNVwqcZRFitvBDl_VYHrFSbnNB-WubjiHo2mDZbkXyg8wNjTxnl-hOnpGamk954Xf_TkQtxu6Tl7sIlZRltnQrK-m09GcnS-R5XKUEAhI09cwwuTarC98TxLpL7ktPrQjUCnYqxY/s72-c/flowers.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-1012682756063172097</id><published>2011-01-05T19:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-05T19:29:32.049-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mr. Big"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="old loves"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="online dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ugly"/><title type="text">Seriously, seriously</title><content type="html">So due to the new job and holidays, I haven't exactly been flush with dates. &amp;nbsp;However, there has also been a SERIOUS decline in the quality of men on Match and Okcupid. &amp;nbsp;Then, there was that lapse back to the &lt;a href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/12/old-loves.html"&gt;Old Loves&lt;/a&gt;. &amp;nbsp;Haven't heard much of anything from him except he wrote a letter to my parents. &amp;nbsp;Yep, that's right--he wrote to my parents stating that they were more like family than dear friends. &amp;nbsp;Sort of begs the question--is he really attracted to me or the fam? &amp;nbsp;So, I wrote him a letter (yes, handwritten) in return detailing my frustration of ten years of playing games. &amp;nbsp;I was bitchy or at least not terribly so. &amp;nbsp;What's also ironic is that he and I are featured front and center in my family's annual picture calendar in November. &amp;nbsp;Why is he already part of the fam but not with me??? &amp;nbsp;I digress....back to the funny, sad, disturbing photos of some of the men checking me out lately...not exactly what I'm looking for as you will likely be able to tell...onto the picture show!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBRGY6fKOGFuTcr7Bxg2uTes9CV69k922QTV3-7r00_CFTHLKHhB54xQn4QFBYD3hU3VTlUU01kQCQPdZxRaL9yFbnRvslrDmRiuBSGtYuJ1DEcxpXcfI8MFjXwDM7Ylkw30HULAjEnwM/s1600/ugly.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBRGY6fKOGFuTcr7Bxg2uTes9CV69k922QTV3-7r00_CFTHLKHhB54xQn4QFBYD3hU3VTlUU01kQCQPdZxRaL9yFbnRvslrDmRiuBSGtYuJ1DEcxpXcfI8MFjXwDM7Ylkw30HULAjEnwM/s320/ugly.jpeg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;love the mullet!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqU9rVmC1NetkPjwp-76k5NaE6LdTRoBLVl9TTggZjEsJU_fVjKAcCJzRyQNjtTOjoo_fMFKDyLfYHDU-zrKuKcJt3MIz4W6RUSzcC53bH5OntYptQHuuw2e-8oJsW2rq6gDF8hr6cSug/s1600/crotch+shot.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqU9rVmC1NetkPjwp-76k5NaE6LdTRoBLVl9TTggZjEsJU_fVjKAcCJzRyQNjtTOjoo_fMFKDyLfYHDU-zrKuKcJt3MIz4W6RUSzcC53bH5OntYptQHuuw2e-8oJsW2rq6gDF8hr6cSug/s1600/crotch+shot.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;is that almost his weeny??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjflh_6xJZJ1be0P8fQlso1li7AgmUCMVpVxYP-aqGNEVUL8eeap3Z-4KcPOBzYhWpUIZKV_a3-C83f8__MI-wvdtEbh9djWDrq07Db1d3XItij3mOW93AyDcpKTgQUtZh1-JVUg3M3Ym8/s1600/crotch+shot2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjflh_6xJZJ1be0P8fQlso1li7AgmUCMVpVxYP-aqGNEVUL8eeap3Z-4KcPOBzYhWpUIZKV_a3-C83f8__MI-wvdtEbh9djWDrq07Db1d3XItij3mOW93AyDcpKTgQUtZh1-JVUg3M3Ym8/s320/crotch+shot2.jpeg" width="259" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;yep, almost got a full frontal...eeekkkk!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwaTJKmiGgW1pVmBwuHGHYs_g2AtXNLe4zW9oUjDvhFZdOO-2duCGzTWvXFITbYjXiv08GFpz1F_b1tDBHD9_5imYsF7yN39RalXqC_jnLzRr4RGQBJaGulw7xRyigJu-sa3zESDIagRw/s1600/oogly.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwaTJKmiGgW1pVmBwuHGHYs_g2AtXNLe4zW9oUjDvhFZdOO-2duCGzTWvXFITbYjXiv08GFpz1F_b1tDBHD9_5imYsF7yN39RalXqC_jnLzRr4RGQBJaGulw7xRyigJu-sa3zESDIagRw/s320/oogly.jpeg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;well, Guido doesn't do it for me either&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;So back to the game...on a side note, I went out with Non-Divorced guy before Christmas and actually told him about Mr. Big. &amp;nbsp;Funny thing--he's still asking me out. &amp;nbsp;Go figure.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/1012682756063172097/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2011/01/seriously-seriously.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="4 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/1012682756063172097" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/1012682756063172097" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2011/01/seriously-seriously.html" rel="alternate" title="Seriously, seriously" type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBRGY6fKOGFuTcr7Bxg2uTes9CV69k922QTV3-7r00_CFTHLKHhB54xQn4QFBYD3hU3VTlUU01kQCQPdZxRaL9yFbnRvslrDmRiuBSGtYuJ1DEcxpXcfI8MFjXwDM7Ylkw30HULAjEnwM/s72-c/ugly.jpeg" width="72"/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-4957052132802373207</id><published>2010-12-13T23:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-13T23:01:32.460-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="annoying"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mr. Big"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="radio silence"/><title type="text">The New Job</title><content type="html">I've been at the new job almost 2 weeks. &amp;nbsp;It's been going...the learning curve is big and I'm struggling a bit. &amp;nbsp;As for my Mr. Big aka the Colonel, he has fallen off the grid. &amp;nbsp;It was to be expected though, but I HATE it! &amp;nbsp;I hate being rejected--don't we all....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He's not returning phone calls or emails at this point, my favorite, Radio Silence. &amp;nbsp;As a certain college roomie stated when I told her about Mr. Big-the return, he was totally unavailable back then and likely would be again. &amp;nbsp;And.....she was right again. &amp;nbsp;Hate it when that happens. &amp;nbsp;Why couldn't we just have had a wham, bam, thank you ma'am and he not mention all the lovey dovey crap? &amp;nbsp;One nighters, while not ideal, can work for me. &amp;nbsp;What can I say--it had been a while. &amp;nbsp;Just need to have that expectation out right...Boo.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What makes it more challenging is that Mr. Big involved the whole family--well not entire--only mom, dad, 2 sisters, and me. &amp;nbsp;There are a total of 6 brothers and sisters including me. &amp;nbsp;Still, it's a third and I know I'll be getting some pointed questions come Christmas time. &amp;nbsp;Annoying.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Not remembering all that lovey crap I wrote a week ago...</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/4957052132802373207/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/12/new-job.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="2 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/4957052132802373207" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/4957052132802373207" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/12/new-job.html" rel="alternate" title="The New Job" type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-8439078045300881420</id><published>2010-12-01T22:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-01T22:27:49.676-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friends"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="old loves"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="old-fashioned"/><title type="text">The Old Loves</title><content type="html">As you might have noticed, I have been MIA for the past few weeks. &amp;nbsp;Granted, I had a good date a few weeks ago...that of course, went no where because of my shenanigans in the cars aka I am white trash....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
However, I have great news! &amp;nbsp;I have a new JOB! &amp;nbsp;For those that have known me for several years, you know that this has been a long time coming. &amp;nbsp;I have a new position in International Marketing and my market is China! &amp;nbsp;All those years and money are starting to pay off! &amp;nbsp;Finally! ~ YIPPEE!!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Back on topic, this past Thanksgiving, I saw a past boyfriend/love/someone I've had a thing with for as long as I can remember in adulthood. &amp;nbsp;We dated when I was 24 and he was 44. &amp;nbsp;Obviously now, I am 30 and he is 50. &amp;nbsp;We have remained friends over the years and attend the same function each Thanksgiving. &amp;nbsp;In fact, he's had Thanksgiving dinner with my family and I for several years. &amp;nbsp;So he's "in" so to speak. &amp;nbsp;Mom and Dad know him and love him though they are a bit concerned on how much we pick. &amp;nbsp;And I mean tease each other. &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;This past weekend seemed (at least to me) to be different. &amp;nbsp;We were kinder, more loving, and had more serious talks about the future. &amp;nbsp;Now, my college roommate will poignantly point out he would not commit exclusively 6 years ago and that was part of the reason we didn't last. &amp;nbsp;And maybe it felt different this year as I am in a different place: &amp;nbsp;I have a new place (out of the farm house FINALLY~hell yeah!); I have a big girl job FINALLY(~hell to the f*** yeah!); and I am actually ready to settle down and think about (ummmm..yes...) a husband, family, and children. &amp;nbsp;Did I write that...yes, I really feel that way.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On some level, he is my version of a knight in shining armor...he is decorated in the military and of rank, he comes from the right family, he has the same goals and aspirations, we like the same things...and while going down a check list so to speak, he makes me laugh and makes me feel special and beautiful and all those tingly things...yes, he is significantly older but honestly, I like that. &amp;nbsp;He feels 100% MAN. &amp;nbsp;There is no boy. &amp;nbsp;That's nice--more than nice and makes me feel safe and cared for.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So even if I was just living the fairy tale week of my life another year with my knight, it was so well worth it. &amp;nbsp;I just need to remember this if I get rejected again and I sure hope that is not the case. &amp;nbsp;I hope it ends with roses, bells, and rings.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Who is this writing....I'm not sure it's myself...but HELL YEA I got the job and the place even if I don't get the man!</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/8439078045300881420/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/12/old-loves.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/8439078045300881420" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/8439078045300881420" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/12/old-loves.html" rel="alternate" title="The Old Loves" type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-195789924116802353</id><published>2010-11-12T08:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-12T08:16:40.436-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="1st dates"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gentleman"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="giggle"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Southern"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="stories"/><title type="text">I had a great date and....might be white trash</title><content type="html">Last night, I went out with Mr. Man. &amp;nbsp;We met at a small pub that was semi-crowded and we talked and talked. &amp;nbsp;He's a native Charlottean (big points), is handy and can build things (love this), drives a truck (yes, I'm shallow but I love a big truck), and can carry on an intelligent conversation. &amp;nbsp;He lived in San Fran for a while and decided to come home because he missed his family and good old fashioned Southern hospitality. &amp;nbsp;This strikes a serious chord with me. &amp;nbsp;It is so nice to not have to explain why NC is wonderful and why I love it here. &amp;nbsp;It's also super to not be considered a hick and backward for feeling that way.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Part of what made the conversation interesting was that he was interesting. &amp;nbsp;His life has definitely not been a linear, ordinary series of steps. &amp;nbsp;There have been several curve balls thrown into the mix. &amp;nbsp;He didn't go to college right after high school and in the process got a girl pregnant. &amp;nbsp;So, he has a 15 year old son. &amp;nbsp;He played pro-racquetball&amp;nbsp;and that led to a full ride at college to play. &amp;nbsp;Unfortunately, a serious injury cut that short which led him to San Fran. &amp;nbsp;When he moved back to the South, he moved to Myrtle Beach and ended up getting married. &amp;nbsp;That ended in divorce when they moved back to Charlotte. &amp;nbsp;He and his father have been running a remodeling company (hence, the ability to build/make things) and during that started a vineyard. &amp;nbsp;He's entrepreneurial. &amp;nbsp;This is so hot! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It probably doesn't sound terribly fascinating to read the run down, but during the date, there were stories interspersed within the facts. &amp;nbsp;And I am a sucker for a story. &amp;nbsp;Everyone that I've dated has been a story teller and not the lying kind. &amp;nbsp;I've enjoyed listening to people spin tales for as long as I can remember. &amp;nbsp;When I was a kid, I used to make my mom tell me over and over the story of my old dad, her, and I road tripping it to Maine and camping along the way. &amp;nbsp;I was 9 months old during this adventure. &amp;nbsp;We slept in campgrounds in our bright orange International Scout. &amp;nbsp;After the first night of me taking over the "bed" in the back. &amp;nbsp;They arranged a&amp;nbsp;pallet&amp;nbsp;for me in the front seat. &amp;nbsp;One night, my mom got sick and was running to bathroom; my dad got up to check on me and I was gone...he screamed for my mom but there was more pressing matters for her. &amp;nbsp;However, he could hear me crying. &amp;nbsp;After searching, he found me lodged under the brake and the clutch in the driver floorboard. &amp;nbsp;I still make my mom tell me this story to this day. &amp;nbsp;Random side note...sorry...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Back to the date, he walked me to my car and we kissed. &amp;nbsp;Then, the kissing got a little heavier; then, I was up against the car making out. &amp;nbsp;I was parked next to the service elevator exit...so several times there were people that popped out and got a full view of us making out against the car. &amp;nbsp;We got a few comments and snickers. &amp;nbsp;Here comes even more white trash....he gets into the car and well, it was high school all over again. &amp;nbsp;PG make out was on full force in the car and it was great! &amp;nbsp;I'll spare you the details but we went to 2nd base. &amp;nbsp;Not classy and probably a guarantee I won't get a 2nd date, but it was fun. &amp;nbsp;At least, I didn't go all the way in the car! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The really great part was I felt like I got my mojo back. &amp;nbsp;I've previously talked about losing it in &lt;a href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/07/as-i-approach-30.html"&gt;As I Approach 30&lt;/a&gt;. Yes, I've "gotten some" since I wrote that, but there's just something about making out like a horny teenager that felt awesome. &amp;nbsp;So we'll see if my faux pas means I don't get a second date or not...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On another note, &amp;nbsp;isn't there something ironic about him having a 15 year old and then him making out in a car like a 15 year old...that gave me a giggle...</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/195789924116802353/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-had-great-date-andmight-be-white.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="4 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/195789924116802353" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/195789924116802353" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-had-great-date-andmight-be-white.html" rel="alternate" title="I had a great date and....might be white trash" type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-7327247049281705510</id><published>2010-11-05T07:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-11-05T07:34:33.573-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="long distance"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="online dating"/><title type="text">From Even Further Away</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKT1J9ash_NWVvLzyz5WVJ5nIjQaNOHYMewnSiG-6B-LGcZCbOWMkeSMnC2tuUWmQs3F8ryCUTZhcc1Eb32KaDYr_El9mbTGT3xMLfTYj3__x2zWQpucK1Vj1YeQTbhzSMEBP3a1DLSrs/s1600/Greece.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="124" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKT1J9ash_NWVvLzyz5WVJ5nIjQaNOHYMewnSiG-6B-LGcZCbOWMkeSMnC2tuUWmQs3F8ryCUTZhcc1Eb32KaDYr_El9mbTGT3xMLfTYj3__x2zWQpucK1Vj1YeQTbhzSMEBP3a1DLSrs/s400/Greece.JPG" width="450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;That's right y'all! &amp;nbsp;I got favorited on Okcupid.com by a guy from Greece! &amp;nbsp;After my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://draft.blogger.com/goog_1948694344"&gt;New to NOLA...but I live in Charlotte&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt; post, I just had to post this. &amp;nbsp;This guy favorited me from over 5000 miles away~he's 25 too. &amp;nbsp;Talk about the definition of a long-distance relationship. &amp;nbsp;Again, I'll&amp;nbsp;reiterate&amp;nbsp;that all of my online profiles explicitly state: &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;"I'm also not looking for a pen pal. It seems like a lot of times conversations on here end up in email or text purgatory."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/7327247049281705510/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/11/from-even-further-away.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="1 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/7327247049281705510" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/7327247049281705510" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/11/from-even-further-away.html" rel="alternate" title="From Even Further Away" type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKT1J9ash_NWVvLzyz5WVJ5nIjQaNOHYMewnSiG-6B-LGcZCbOWMkeSMnC2tuUWmQs3F8ryCUTZhcc1Eb32KaDYr_El9mbTGT3xMLfTYj3__x2zWQpucK1Vj1YeQTbhzSMEBP3a1DLSrs/s72-c/Greece.JPG" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-3306576836510544863</id><published>2010-11-05T06:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-11-05T06:56:44.704-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="alone"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mom"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="single"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="vacation"/><title type="text">The Alone Part of Being Single</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Obviously in being single, one can tend to spend a significant portion of time alone. &amp;nbsp;This is particularly the case when one lives alone as I do. &amp;nbsp;I'm not a hermit by any means. &amp;nbsp;I date a fair amount and go out with friends, but there are many evenings that consist of just me, myself, and I plus my cute pup, Fabes. &amp;nbsp;I was raised as an only child and typically the alone factor isn't a big deal. &amp;nbsp;I've perfected the ability to entertain myself and, at times, crave solitude. &amp;nbsp;These cravings generally come after people filled weekends/time periods. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;There are times, however, when "the alone factor" sucks:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;-Dinner time-I hate cooking for one and tend to avoid doing it. &amp;nbsp;There is simply no joy (for me at least) in preparing and eating at home by myself. &amp;nbsp;This leads to lots of eating out which can get expensive and isn't quite as healthy (given where I live) as I would like.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;-I typically don't mind eating out alone and got pretty good at it after living in China on my own....Except when &amp;nbsp;your waitress looks at you with pity and says, "Can I get you a newspaper or something?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;SIDE BAR- I hate when I take myself out to eat and the food (specifically in this instance, spaghetti carbonara) that I make is better than the restaurant's. &amp;nbsp;Grrrr...but I hate cooking for one!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;-When your mom poignantly asks, "You're going to the mountains alone for the night...by yourself?" &amp;nbsp;Yes, mom, we are in the 21st century and I can travel alone. &amp;nbsp;Yes, mom, don't you remember I moved to China twice by myself...so why is driving an hour and a half to the mountains by myself weird? &amp;nbsp;Last time, I checked mountain folk speak English and it's close--not nearly as strange as moving to China without a job, apartment, pretty much anything except my suitcase. &amp;nbsp;That didn't freak her out but going hiking and wandering in the NC mountains with my dog is somehow not alright. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I'm 30 without a boyfriend or husband that means if I want to do something either I do it alone or I find a friend. &amp;nbsp;Finding a friend, however, is easier said than done--no offense to my dear, dear friends that live close and read this. &amp;nbsp;I realize they have their own lives and plans that don't always coincide with my whims. &amp;nbsp;So in being single, you sometimes have 2 options: &amp;nbsp;1) stay at home and do nothing (yuck!) 2) go out and do it by yourself. &amp;nbsp;I normally choose the latter unless I'm being lazy...I do love my couch. &amp;nbsp;I'd so much rather do stuff even if it is by myself than end up being a hermit and waiting for someone to ask me to do something or hoping that I can find a friend. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/3306576836510544863/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/11/alone-part-of-being-single.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="3 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/3306576836510544863" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/3306576836510544863" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/11/alone-part-of-being-single.html" rel="alternate" title="The Alone Part of Being Single" type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-6825268587540735059</id><published>2010-11-04T08:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-11-04T08:22:51.675-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="future"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="marriage"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mom"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="what if"/><title type="text">The What-ifs</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Last night, I attended a networking event for my pseudo-high school. &amp;nbsp;I say pseudo because I only attended boarding school for 1 year and it was an awful year. &amp;nbsp;Looking back and after the event, I sometimes wonder if I should have completed high school there. &amp;nbsp;One might ask if it was so awful, why am I wondering about the "what if"? &amp;nbsp;Not to sound hoity-toity, but it's a very impressive school in New England--presidents have gone there, people that cure cancer have gone there, people that have started big time relief organizations have gone there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So why was it awful? &amp;nbsp;I am a born and bred North Carolinian and moving to New England was SERIOUS culture shock. &amp;nbsp;I was 15, awkward, depressed, and (again) dealing with this seriously different culture. &amp;nbsp;Plus, in 95/96, New England had one of the worst winters it had ever seen. &amp;nbsp;Needless to say, being from NC, I don't do feet upon feet of snow very well. &amp;nbsp;I could NOT understand why I was forced to go to class when there were 25 foot snow drifts all over campus...not to mention the foot or two of snow I had to wade through to get to class. &amp;nbsp;The irony--I chose to go to boarding school. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;It started with the summer before 9th grade. &amp;nbsp;I went to a boarding school in Switzerland for the summer between 8th and 9th grade to learn French. &amp;nbsp;It was amazing--the school was on Lake Lugano, in between Italy and Switzerland.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://switzerland.tasis.com/uploaded/photos/ABOUT_US/Campus_images/three_down.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://switzerland.tasis.com/uploaded/photos/ABOUT_US/Campus_images/three_down.jpg" width="146" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Not so bad, huh? &amp;nbsp;I returned to the US after the experience even more depressed with my 14 year old life. Plus, I met this amazing 19 year old half Italian man that was hot who told me if I was older, he would wisk me away (ahhh, the men of our youth). &amp;nbsp;So, I announced to my parents that fall/winter that I was moving back to Lugano to go to high school and they said, "Yea, right." &amp;nbsp;Persistence has been the blessing and bane of my existence. &amp;nbsp;I began to research and thought, ok, if I can't go to Switzerland, I'll find another boarding school with Chinese (this has been my passion since I was 10). &amp;nbsp;I found the only school, at the time, that offered Chinese on the East Coast. &amp;nbsp;I applied and got in--I can be a smarty pants after all ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;In the fall of 95, we drove to New England and as we got on campus, I lost all my steam and started shitting my pants. &amp;nbsp;What had a I done! &amp;nbsp;Between many pints of ice cream, lots of junk food, and buying a CD a day, &amp;nbsp;I got through the year. &amp;nbsp;In the words of my mother, I had signed a contract and was going to complete what I had started--you are not a quitter. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So why am I rambling about something that happened 15 years ago...it just got me to thinking. &amp;nbsp;Would I be better off if I had completed high school there? &amp;nbsp;Would I have done more, accomplished more, and be more influential now? &amp;nbsp;Those thoughts, of course, led to thoughts of what if other things had turned out differently:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;What if I had married College BF #2 (of course, impossible as he broke up with me on my 22nd birthday)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;What if I had married BF post-college and not moved back to NC&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;What if I had gone to UNC like a good little Carolina girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;What if I had moved to China after college and taught English&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;What if I had married the Colonel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;What if I had married High School BF&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;What if, what if, what if....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Ok, enough what ifs, I truly have no regrets and have led in some ways an AMAZING life. &amp;nbsp;I have always followed my heart and my passions even if its taken some ass backward ways like living in a farm house in the middle of BFE North Carolina. &amp;nbsp;It's just curious sometimes to wonder and ponder...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;As a side note, did you notice that&amp;nbsp;almost all of the what ifs had to do with marriage/men? How utterly stupid and telling of a single 30-something...blah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/6825268587540735059/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/11/what-ifs.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="1 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/6825268587540735059" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/6825268587540735059" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/11/what-ifs.html" rel="alternate" title="The What-ifs" type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-8571301619210825102</id><published>2010-11-03T07:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-11-03T07:56:49.599-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="long distance"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="online dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="random"/><title type="text">New to NOLA but I live in Charlotte?</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Funny thing, I live in Charlotte...so why is he contacting me and writing such a lengthy email when he lives in New Orleans??? Never been a fan of long distance relationships in general, but starting one as long distance just seems absurd. &amp;nbsp;Eharmony, it has always seemed to me to be a proponent of long distance and moving/traveling great distances to find the person that meets their 27 dimensions of compatibility. &amp;nbsp;I think this, personally, is (albeit perhaps possible to find love) kind of unsafe. &amp;nbsp;There aren't enough emails, phone calls, or Skype calls that can give you utter assurance that whom you will meet will be normal and not scary. &amp;nbsp;Of course, all online dates are this way. &amp;nbsp;There is always an element of "shit, am I going to be meeting a stalker/rapist/killer" when I go out on any online date. &amp;nbsp;If I immediately get his feeling from emails/calls, I, obviously, don't go. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;What's more strange is that since I've turned 30, I've received more winks, been viewed by, and gotten emails from people that do not live in the Charlotte or even NC area. &amp;nbsp;Does the fact that I've reached the "about to be a spinster" age mean that all of a sudden I am so desperate I will take on a long distance relationship just for a remote feel of having a boyfriend? &amp;nbsp;I don't think so. &amp;nbsp;I want someone who is real, whom I can touch, whom is there to snuggle with, go out with, stay home with; I do not want a pen pal. &amp;nbsp;So--do I even respond to this guy and ask why did you contact me, I live in Charlotte?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;h1 class="ha" style="background: inherit; border-collapse: collapse; border-right: inherit; color: black; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: 12px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="hP" id=":2ib" style="padding-right: 10px;"&gt;Match.com Message: New to NOLA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; width: 400px;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="1" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(155, 157, 157); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-collapse: collapse; border-left-color: rgb(155, 157, 157); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(155, 157, 157); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; border-top-color: rgb(155, 157, 157); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 1px; width: 400px;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#bdd9e3" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table align="center" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="width: 400px;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td height="104" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;" width="104"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.match.com/doubleblind/emailform.aspx?uid=vmTcoGoJLzLO%2bmPz4NsINQ%3d%3d&amp;amp;trackingid=0&amp;amp;TP=D&amp;amp;Handle=rrtccp1&amp;amp;Bannerid=512884&amp;amp;MID=0&amp;amp;emailid=fece3ed6-83d6-4098-b10a-a7c0a6f8e4b0" style="color: #942e06;" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="rrtccp1" height="100" src="http://sthumbnails.match.com/sthumbnails/03/85/95760385A.jpeg" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 153, 204); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 2px; border-left-color: rgb(0, 153, 204); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 2px; border-right-color: rgb(0, 153, 204); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 2px; border-top-color: rgb(0, 153, 204); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 2px;" width="80" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;" valign="top" width="153"&gt;&lt;div style="padding-top: 10px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #353535; font-size: 11px;"&gt;40, New Orleans, LA&lt;br /&gt;
Seeking Female 29-48&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;" valign="top" width="380"&gt;&lt;div style="padding-top: 5px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thirst for Adventure &amp;amp; Knowledge&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="padding-top: 5px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;I am a world traveler who is very down to earth. Volunteer around the Globe to help children born with congenital heart disease. I have a sharp wit, and great sense of humor. Love Adventure. Avid Snow Skier SCUBA Diver Sailor Looking for someone who wants to share my life and adventures with me . . .&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.match.com/login/login.aspx?LAND=/profile/ShowProfile.aspx?Handle=rrtccp1&amp;amp;EmailId=fece3ed6-83d6-4098-b10a-a7c0a6f8e4b0" style="color: #547fa9; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"&gt;… Read more »&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#E9E8E8" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #555555; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;From:&amp;nbsp;NOLA MAN&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;gt; /&amp;nbsp;&lt;strong&gt;Received:&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;November 02, 2010&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="30" cellspacing="0" style="border-collapse: collapse; border-left-color: rgb(207, 207, 207); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(207, 207, 207); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; width: 400px;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;h1&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;New to NOLA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Hello&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am a medical professional new to NOLA.&lt;br /&gt;
Educated, with a down to earth outgoing personality.&lt;br /&gt;
Great sense of humor.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Spend the last 2 years traveling the globe as a volunteer working in surgery fixing children’s hearts in third world countries. The International Children's Heart Foundation (&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://babyheart.org/" style="color: #942e06;" target="_blank"&gt;babyheart.org&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;) has been my passion. I trained and worked in Miami for 8 years. Prior to my travels, I worked in St. Petersburg - Tampa for 7 years, then quit my day job to teach around the globe.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Currently, I have taken a job at Tulane University Medical Center, to help them restart their Pediatric Heart Surgery program. Since I have only met a few people at work, I thought I would give this internet thing a whirl !&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Love adventure, avid snow skier &amp;amp; scuba diver.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Want someone to share my adventures with . . .&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
E nough about me and my job, I would really like to know more about you ?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you could choose anywhere in the world to travel where would you like to go ?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hope to hear from you,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Michael&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/8571301619210825102/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/11/new-to-nola-but-i-live-in-charlotte.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="5 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/8571301619210825102" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/8571301619210825102" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/11/new-to-nola-but-i-live-in-charlotte.html" rel="alternate" title="New to NOLA but I live in Charlotte?" type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-8146833371205868941</id><published>2010-10-30T08:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-30T08:45:04.540-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Facebook"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="online dating"/><title type="text">The Single Parent/Kid Factor</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I've been MIA again but between my anxiety about hearing about a new job and the toothless fools that have been winking at me on Match, there just hasn't been much to say. &amp;nbsp;I still don't have news about the job except that I am their chosen candidate and the new department head that was just hired wants to meet with me prior to them extending an offer. &amp;nbsp;He can't meet until November 8th!! &amp;nbsp;My stomach has been in knots and I've been pacing a lot lately. &amp;nbsp;So, I continue my wait. &amp;nbsp;This, in turn, means that I can't do anything in terms of (finally) getting my own place, getting some new furniture (YAY!), and really (again) starting my adult life. &amp;nbsp;Of course, this is all I've been obsessing about for now 2 weeks. &amp;nbsp;I can't sleep because I literally dream of having my pseudo-adult life back. &amp;nbsp;I say pseudo because some would say that being 30 and not being married, not owning a home, and not having kids is only kind of being an adult or maybe that's what the voices in my head are telling me. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;As for the toothless fools that have been contacting me, well, they aren't all toothless but they sure are ugly. &amp;nbsp;Something about turning 30 on Match has drastically reduced the number of attractive men that contact me and subsequently the number of dates I am going on. &amp;nbsp;I have started talking to Mr. Dad. &amp;nbsp;He's 34 with 2 children whom are 4 and 8. &amp;nbsp;The thought of actually going on a date with this man scares me. &amp;nbsp;My over-analytical mind immediately goes into I am not old enough to be a stepmom. &amp;nbsp;Of course, this is not true especially in the society in which we live. &amp;nbsp;I have not, as of yet, dated anyone that has children. &amp;nbsp;Of course, as I get older, eventually it will likely happen that I do. &amp;nbsp;What's even more ironic is that my family is a culmination of many marriages with lots of kids from the previous marriages. &amp;nbsp;In fact, because I only want 1 little girl but want her to still have brothers and sisters (like me), it would seem logical that dating single parents would be a great answer. &amp;nbsp;I still have weird feelings about the "step" factor...you know the evil stepmother thing. &amp;nbsp;Not to mention, my experience with a step-parent has been interesting to say the least. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;The other interesting thing about Mr. Dad...he asked if we could be Facebook friends after chatting on the phone once. &amp;nbsp;AHHHH! &amp;nbsp;I hate being friends with dates on Facebook and not because I post anything particularly revealing. &amp;nbsp;It's typically just bad form and can lead to stupid stalking and reveals part of myself that I'm not quite ready to reveal. &amp;nbsp;I friended him too, but set the privacy settings so he only access to certain parts. &amp;nbsp;Guess we'll see how it goes. &amp;nbsp;We are supposed to chat about getting together next week assuming he doesn't back out because of what he sees on FB. &amp;nbsp;FML.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/8146833371205868941/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/10/single-parentkid-factor.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/8146833371205868941" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/8146833371205868941" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/10/single-parentkid-factor.html" rel="alternate" title="The Single Parent/Kid Factor" type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-9085879281478944792</id><published>2010-10-13T08:20:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-13T08:20:25.745-04:00</updated><title type="text">Need some Physical Attraction</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So obviously, I've been on a dating binge the past few weeks--4 dates in 2 weeks. &amp;nbsp;The problem with most of these dates--no physical attraction. &amp;nbsp;I'm not looking for a Brad Pitt look a like, but I need to at least feel some sort of weakness in the knees. &amp;nbsp;There has to be something that sparks that "want" to be touched. &amp;nbsp;I haven't gotten that in a while. &amp;nbsp;Maybe this is a function of growing up. &amp;nbsp;I used to walk in a bar 5 years ago and find at least 5 people I could have envisioned having more than a little fun with. &amp;nbsp;And sometimes, I acted on it--ok pretty often acted on it. &amp;nbsp;I haven't experienced this of late at all. &amp;nbsp;I mention this low sex drive in &lt;a href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/07/as-i-approach-30.html"&gt;As I Approach 30&lt;/a&gt;. &amp;nbsp; I hate it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;This reaction indicates there wasn't any red hot action resulting from Mr. Business aka the 45 year old white haired man or anyone else. &amp;nbsp;Sorry to disappoint--I was hoping for a juicy posting too. &amp;nbsp;The problem--we had a great conversation. &amp;nbsp;It was actually a pleasurable outing--just minus the physical attraction.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Something else interesting happened on my date this past Saturday afternoon with Mr. Ole Miss. &amp;nbsp;I was called a communist. &amp;nbsp;Now, I will admit I am very pro-China (yes, this makes some people nervous), but I am not pro-communist. &amp;nbsp;Not everyone is created equal. &amp;nbsp;Everyone has there own talents in which they excel and should be justly compensated for said talents. &amp;nbsp;I do think that China's ability to direct funding in certain industries with high growth potential is a sound practice. &amp;nbsp;The free market is not able to "decide" on its own what will ultimately result in the most growth/prosperity--it needs helps. &amp;nbsp;(I explained all this to him too, FYI.) Anyway, I digress. &amp;nbsp;Mr. Ole Miss was very attractive and I actually felt some weakness, but it ended in a killjoy with him insulting me. &amp;nbsp;Funny enough, he actually complained about the small mindedness of people at Ole Miss...think he might have been complaining a little about himself. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;On another note, &amp;nbsp;it's interesting the number of "hits" I receive on Match and Okcupid have decreased exponentially since I turned 30. &amp;nbsp;Nothing about my profiles has changed--just my age. &amp;nbsp;That's a bit depressing. &amp;nbsp;I also think I might have tapped out the Charlotte market...when I go out on dates now, I usually see someone that I've previously been out with--this happened on Friday when I went out with Mr. Business. &amp;nbsp;Fortunately, there wasn't any weirdness per se; other than I looked at him and thought Shit, I &amp;nbsp;went out with you and I can't remember anything about it. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Sorry about the political mumbo jumbo thrown in--just couldn't be avoided. Next!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/9085879281478944792/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/10/need-some-physical-attraction.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="2 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/9085879281478944792" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/9085879281478944792" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/10/need-some-physical-attraction.html" rel="alternate" title="Need some Physical Attraction" type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-2886531206378695955</id><published>2010-10-05T23:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-05T23:03:32.323-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="divorce"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="future"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="non-divorced"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="overload"/><title type="text">Babies, Tears, and 2 "Talks in 1 Night"</title><content type="html">So this past weekend, I had 2 dates, 2 volunteer events, and a Sunday full of helping my parents with stuff around our lake house. &amp;nbsp;All in all a very busy and productive weekend. &amp;nbsp;The date on Friday night was a second date with &lt;a href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/09/whole-bunch-of-women-and-nap.html"&gt;Mr. Controller&lt;/a&gt;. &amp;nbsp;We met at 8pm at a dueling piano bar on the lake and it was deserted when we arrived but the music was extremely loud. &amp;nbsp;We managed to have a good conversation despite the atmosphere and left around 1am. &amp;nbsp;He walked me to my car and we kissed but it was more of a peck--not exactly the kind of kiss that left you shaking in the knees. &amp;nbsp;I didn't want to make out in the parking lot obviously but some sort of feeling in it would have been nice. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Fast forward to Saturday night, I had another date with &lt;a href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/07/word-vomit-or-why-i-like-non-divorced.html"&gt;Mr. Non-Divorced Guy&lt;/a&gt;. &amp;nbsp;We went to a cute French restaurant, followed by drinks at a great Tavern, where we happened to bump into a friend of a friend, and another friend met us out. &amp;nbsp;Conversation, as always, was awesome. &amp;nbsp;We talked about the upcoming football game we are going to in November. &amp;nbsp;We even talked about my upcoming date with &lt;a href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/10/when-business-gets-personal.html"&gt;Mr. Business turns Personal&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;and how ridiculous the situation is. &amp;nbsp;Then we start discussing how we both really want to take a month and do a cross country trip. &amp;nbsp;We both say we should do it together next year. &amp;nbsp;Still love the ability to have word vomit with him, but then it got the best of me....again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That morning I'd volunteered with the Symphony in helping children at the Musical Petting Zoo and playing with percussion instruments. &amp;nbsp;The children were wonderful and it started the (usually way in the background longing) I have for a family, husband, and children. &amp;nbsp;It even made me misty eyed at one point. &amp;nbsp;I hoped this wouldn't rear its ugly head later on that day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well, it did. &amp;nbsp;After all the girls had left the bar, Mr. Non-Divorced and I started talking about my day and well, the tears started to flow. &amp;nbsp;Yes, I am an idiot, overly sensitive, and utterly ashamed that this weakness appeared. &amp;nbsp;I don't think it's particularly awful that I occasionally (or really very often) feel disappointment that I haven't married and had children yet. &amp;nbsp;They are my feelings after all and I have to own them. &amp;nbsp;So there, I said it. &amp;nbsp;I am thirty and really wish I was married and at least thinking about babies. &amp;nbsp;The utter cliche. &amp;nbsp;Whatever. &amp;nbsp;I am upset that it came out in front of Non-Divorced.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, it's Monday night. &amp;nbsp;Non-Divorced called and I tell him about this interview I got for an International Marketing position that I'm super excited about! WOO HOO!!!! &amp;nbsp;Then he goes into how he wants to make sure we're on the same page and that he cares about me on some level and doesn't want to hurt me. &amp;nbsp;(That's good, right?) But he concerned about where I am given my tears on Saturday. &amp;nbsp;I state again for the 3rd or 4th time that's he not yet divorced and I fully understand the repercussions of that. &amp;nbsp;He babbles that we've had the talk about seeing others and it's ok with both of us which is true.&amp;nbsp;Then he babbles about how he's&amp;nbsp;embarrassed&amp;nbsp;he brought it up and maybe he's overly sensitive, etc. &amp;nbsp;I also state again that I'd be lying if I said I didn't want a family and children--that's part of me too. &amp;nbsp;The only thing I would request is that he not sleep with any of my best friends as my former best friend just moved in with my most recent ex. &amp;nbsp;He obliges to that request. Conversation ends.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Phone rings again. &amp;nbsp;It's Mr. Controller. &amp;nbsp;I tell him about the upcoming interview for the International Marketing position and that it's in Greensboro. &amp;nbsp;He's excited but then goes into how I shouldn't take him in account regarding my potential move and new position. &amp;nbsp;WHAT!! &amp;nbsp;We've had 2 dates. &amp;nbsp;He goes on to say he'd still like to remain friends of course but that he is still very much interested in me. &amp;nbsp;To which I reply, I don't think we really have to talk about this as the interview hasn't even happened, but he keeps&amp;nbsp;reiterating&amp;nbsp;that Greensboro isn't that far and he really wants to keep in touch. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How is it possible to have 2 of these conversations in one evening with 2 people that I'm not even serious with? &amp;nbsp;Again, I'm thoroughly confused.</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/2886531206378695955/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/10/babies-tears-and-2-talks-in-1-night.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/2886531206378695955" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/2886531206378695955" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/10/babies-tears-and-2-talks-in-1-night.html" rel="alternate" title="Babies, Tears, and 2 &quot;Talks in 1 Night&quot;" type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-7262696919159360140</id><published>2010-09-30T22:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-05T22:25:41.412-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><title type="text">When Business Gets Personal</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I've fallen off the grid for a couple of weeks. &amp;nbsp;I've been super busy with work and was at a trade show in DC showcasing real estate in the South for most of last week and all of last weekend. &amp;nbsp;I was at the trade show with my Dad, so obviously not much dating was going on. &amp;nbsp;Assuming we get sales from the trade show, it was a successful trip. &amp;nbsp;I met some interesting people particularly a group that was selling mountain homes in NC. &amp;nbsp;About 8 of us ended up going to dinner on Saturday night--6 men and 2 women including myself and my dad. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;One of the men was about 350 lbs. and took an interest in me. &amp;nbsp;About half way through dinner, he said he'd like to chat with me for a moment...not sure why I said yes but I did. &amp;nbsp;We went to the bar and he then stated we were going to take a shot. &amp;nbsp;I don't take shots--I usually end up throwing up on the bar. &amp;nbsp;Not sure why this is and it has nothing to do with the amount of booze I've consumed. &amp;nbsp;If I've had 1 drink, I throw up; if I've had 15 drinks, I throw up. &amp;nbsp;I mention to him I don't do shots but thanks. &amp;nbsp;He continues to press and keeps asking what I want to which I reply nothing. &amp;nbsp;He gets the bartender to make something and then hands it to me...I take 1 sip and put the rest back. &amp;nbsp;It tastes like sweet cough syrup--YUCK! &amp;nbsp;He's also surprised when I don't take it and I state again like I said before, I don't do them. &amp;nbsp;We walk back to the table and continue dinner. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;The show the next day was particularly slow so I ended up chatting with another guy that was at dinner the previous night. &amp;nbsp;He was nice, 45, and just getting through a divorce which his boss was quick to point out. &amp;nbsp;He said he had a lead for me and would call later in the week to give me the details. &amp;nbsp;So he called yesterday and gave me the lead. &amp;nbsp;He then said, "I have another unrelated question." Ok...and then he asks me to dinner and says he'll drive down from Lenoir which is about an hour north of where I live in Charlotte. &amp;nbsp;I say yes as a gut reaction in not wanting &amp;nbsp;hurt someone's feeling. &amp;nbsp;This is the problem--he's got all white hair all over. &amp;nbsp;He is definitely not a young looking 45, but he is funny. &amp;nbsp;I also don't want to disturb the working relationship we have developed with this group. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So, I tell my brother about this development and his reaction is exactly what I was expecting: you got to take one for the team and go on this date aka we might be able to get some sales from this. &amp;nbsp;This probably sounds a little harsh and a little ridiculous. &amp;nbsp;I sometimes wonder if I'm living way back in the day when families used their daughters to develop alliances and gain wealth. &amp;nbsp;Even more ridiculous is that I, even though I am from the 21st century, a) believe in taking one for the team b) am willing to do it. &amp;nbsp;It's almost unnatural the loyalty I feel to my family. &amp;nbsp;My dad's line when it comes to discussing my future marriage is "I have to see his financial statements first." &amp;nbsp;Guess, we'll see how it goes....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/7262696919159360140/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/10/when-business-gets-personal.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="1 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/7262696919159360140" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/7262696919159360140" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/10/when-business-gets-personal.html" rel="alternate" title="When Business Gets Personal" type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-3659075869454659897</id><published>2010-09-21T07:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T07:52:14.505-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="I don't drink"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="lost"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mr. Wonderful"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="online dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="solo"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Southern"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Yankee"/><title type="text">There is no "I" in "We"</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I've been pondering a lot lately about relationships, dating, etc but mostly about the relationship part. &amp;nbsp;Yes, this is a big fat duh considering I blog about these things, but something has struck me recently. &amp;nbsp;I used to be the girl that always had a boyfriend and a serious one at that. &amp;nbsp;My first serious boyfriend was in high school. &amp;nbsp;We tried to make it work in college. &amp;nbsp;That obviously didn't work, but I already had someone lined up (yes, I was and/or maybe still am that girl). &amp;nbsp;College guy #1 was an emotional wreck as was I but he also hurt me and yes, I mean physically. &amp;nbsp;Fortunately, I was smart enough to walk away before anything really serious happened. &amp;nbsp;And again, another boyfriend appeared within weeks and we dated until after college when he broke up with me on my 22nd birthday. &amp;nbsp;I again had someone lined up to take his place and 3 weeks after the "birthday" break up, we were serious. &amp;nbsp;I even thought we would get married....we lived together and got along very well except in the bedroom. &amp;nbsp;But that's another story for another time. &amp;nbsp;Then, I moved home to North Carolina to go to grad school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;The point is I was almost always part of a "we" from the time I was 16 until I was 26. &amp;nbsp;During in the short period of times I was unattached in between those relationships, I dated (loosely used) and actually liked it. &amp;nbsp;I really liked meeting new people and having some random one nights stands. &amp;nbsp;I even liked it when I started doing online dating back in 2006. &amp;nbsp;Sure, it can be nerve wracking to meet a stranger and see what happens. &amp;nbsp;It's obviously NOT fun when the guys are douches most notably: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-dont-drink-water-guy.html"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;The Water Guy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/06/why-girls-shouldnt-like-sports-or-why.html"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;the Anti-Southerner&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;. &amp;nbsp;But there have been some good dates; there, however, have been no boyfriends or engagements. &amp;nbsp;Which is ok--I'm not going to kill myself if I'm not married within the next year. &amp;nbsp;What the problem is is that I have forgotten totally forgotten how to even think of myself in a relationship or how to even react/consider the possibility. &amp;nbsp;I have gone into super selfish mode due to the lack of having to consider anyone at all in my decision making...other than my precious cocker, Fabian. &amp;nbsp;I don't even really consider the possibility of the dates I go on going anywhere or think about if they'll be a next date. &amp;nbsp;Normally, I've already scheduled dates for 2 weeks out so even if I met Mr. Wonderful and he wanted to spend the next several nights together it would take serious rearranging. &amp;nbsp;Not trying to brag--it actually shows an inability to connect emotionally or that I'm extraordinarily picky. &amp;nbsp;I wonder if subconsciously I've started to consider the dating game solely a numbers game. &amp;nbsp;The whole you have to kiss a bunch of frogs before you find the prince mentality. &amp;nbsp;I'm not&amp;nbsp;particularly&amp;nbsp;sure how to get out of this rut and mentality. &amp;nbsp;I thought writing would help me process, but alas I'm still lost.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/3659075869454659897/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/09/there-is-no-i-in-we.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="1 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/3659075869454659897" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/3659075869454659897" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/09/there-is-no-i-in-we.html" rel="alternate" title="There is no &quot;I&quot; in &quot;We&quot;" type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-1355804259230657468</id><published>2010-09-14T08:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T08:11:29.136-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="1st dates"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="2nd dates"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="3rd dates"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="annoying"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Facebook"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="online dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="radio silence"/><title type="text">When They Come Back Around</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;I was seeing this guy, Mr. Tech, back in the Spring. &amp;nbsp;We had a good first date, a great 2nd date, and an amazing 3rd date. &amp;nbsp;The 2nd and 3rd date involved being introduced to his friends. &amp;nbsp;One would think things were going swimmingly. &amp;nbsp;His friends loved me--not trying to brag, I liked them too. &amp;nbsp;The 3rd date was a Saint Patty's Day Crawl. &amp;nbsp;We had a great time. &amp;nbsp;I didn't drink myself into oblivion which was a feat. &amp;nbsp;We ended up back at his house, lounged together, napped together, and made out some. &amp;nbsp;Unfortunately, my little friend was around, so it was pretty G rated. &amp;nbsp;The only awkwardness was I had to tell him as he tried to get into my pants. &amp;nbsp;Now, I'm not sure if my blurting out I was on the rag was what cause things to go sour, but how else do you let someone know? &amp;nbsp;Let them figure it out for themselves when they find the string--I think NOT! &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;So the 3rd date lasted around 12 hours. &amp;nbsp;It was a great 12 hours. &amp;nbsp;We stole kisses at the bar and had a great time hanging out with his friends. &amp;nbsp;So what happened? &amp;nbsp;I texted him on actual Saint Patty's Day and got no response. &amp;nbsp;And never heard from him again....until TODAY. &amp;nbsp;He did "The Fade". &amp;nbsp;Things going well and then RADIO SILENCE. &amp;nbsp;I wasn't overly&amp;nbsp;disappointed. I didn't think he was my soul mate but I enjoyed his company. &amp;nbsp;I am guilty of the fade...so I don't get too worked up when it happens to me. &amp;nbsp;However, when they randomly 6 months later contact you (ie wink at you) on Match. &amp;nbsp;What is the deal? &amp;nbsp;Did he get back with an old girlfriend, start talking to his ex-wife again, WTF?? &amp;nbsp;Will keep you posted if he contacts me back. &amp;nbsp;I just had to send an email--more out of&amp;nbsp;curiosity&amp;nbsp;than anything. &amp;nbsp;Email was:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Subject: &amp;nbsp;How ya been stranger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Body: &amp;nbsp;Hope you had a good summer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Lee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;What's even funnier is that I've seen him randomly on Match but then his profile is hidden again. &amp;nbsp;How do I know he randomly reveals his profile, you might ask, he picked me as one of his "Favorites". &amp;nbsp;One minute he'll be listed and then later that day vanished. &amp;nbsp;Gotta love online dating!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/1355804259230657468/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/09/when-they-come-back-around.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="7 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/1355804259230657468" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/1355804259230657468" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/09/when-they-come-back-around.html" rel="alternate" title="When They Come Back Around" type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-8386675746834122709</id><published>2010-09-14T08:07:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T08:07:00.075-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="1st dates"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="2nd dates"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="conversation"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friends"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hope"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="online dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="turnoffs"/><title type="text">A Whole Bunch of Women and a Nap</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Consistently finding yourself in rooms full of women is probably not the best way to try and meet a man. &amp;nbsp;However, this is the situation I've been finding myself in a lot lately. &amp;nbsp;Between the Junior League, the Symphony Guild, and a Women's Retreat with my mom, I have been surrounded by large groups of women. &amp;nbsp;This is not to say that I don't enjoy spending girl time. &amp;nbsp;It's just it's been a bit much lately. &amp;nbsp;I'm more in need of the one on one type of connection or the let's get crazy and flirt some. &amp;nbsp;Fortunately, thanks to my WONDERFUL girlfriends, I will be experiencing both this coming weekend. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Ironically, I joined the Junior League and Symphony Guild to expand my social circle and half-assed hoped I'd meet some new men. &amp;nbsp;However, men do not hang out in these type situations (Duh, I know). &amp;nbsp;I did think that with friends of friends, family members, whatever that it might be possible. &amp;nbsp;Most everyone, however, is already married and doesn't know any singles. &amp;nbsp;And I am NOT into breaking up marriages. &amp;nbsp;As pointed out by a younger friend of mine, even if your friends know people and even suggest that you should date them, it normally doesn't work out. &amp;nbsp;Why--usually an introduction isn't made. &amp;nbsp;This is NOT something I've experienced personally.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;As for my dating life, I had 2 dates last week. &amp;nbsp;The first seemed full of potential. &amp;nbsp;We had a great phone conversation (I didn't want to get off the phone after an hour--this is unheard of), he loved sports, worked in sports, similar backgrounds. &amp;nbsp;He was fun to talk to--what a novel idea! &amp;nbsp;Then we met. &amp;nbsp;I know I probably sound like I'm starting to whine and/or my "list of requirements" is unreasonable and/or I'm just too picky. Whatever--his teeth were BUSTED. &amp;nbsp;I couldn't stop staring at them. &amp;nbsp;Plus, he clucked when he talked. &amp;nbsp;That did not occur on the phone, FYI. &amp;nbsp;So even though I was interested in what he was saying, I couldn't concentrate because of the shit going on in his mouth. &amp;nbsp;Plus, it's the 21st century; there is no excuse for bad teeth. &amp;nbsp;NEXT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;The second was similar in terms of we'd talked on the phone and it went really well. &amp;nbsp;The date went really well too despite some of my &lt;i&gt;own shortcomings&lt;/i&gt;....I've been swamped at work. &amp;nbsp;I'm trying to figure out 5 years of inventory crap and I'm NOT an accountant. &amp;nbsp;I'm swimming in spreadsheets and trying to compare figures all day every day. &amp;nbsp;Fine, work sucks. &amp;nbsp;Last Thursday, I come home from work around 530pm. &amp;nbsp;I sit down on the couch and next thing I know I wake up at 640pm. &amp;nbsp;I'm supposed to be at the restaurant at 7pm and it takes 15-20 minutes to get there. &amp;nbsp;I haven't re-applied makeup, changed, nothing, plus I'm feeling confused as I just woke up and it takes me 5 minutes to realize where I have to be. &amp;nbsp;I text him and say I'm running late--won't be there til 715pm. &amp;nbsp;He says fine, no problem. &amp;nbsp;I manage to pull myself together, look reasonably cute, and arrive at 710pm. &amp;nbsp;Yes, I am awesome and no, I didn't get a speeding ticket. &amp;nbsp;But when I arrive, I am discombobulated, numbers are still swimming in my head, and start babbling about work. &amp;nbsp;He is getting his Master's in Accounting, however, so he was interested in my non-sense about inventory. &amp;nbsp;Overall, the date went really well once I got it together and had a glass of wine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;At the end, he asked twice if I'd like for him to call again. &amp;nbsp;I said yes definitely. &amp;nbsp;Here's hoping there's a 2nd date with this one. &amp;nbsp;But after my lackluster initial performance, who knows?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Have another date Wednesday night....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/8386675746834122709/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/09/whole-bunch-of-women-and-nap.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/8386675746834122709" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/8386675746834122709" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/09/whole-bunch-of-women-and-nap.html" rel="alternate" title="A Whole Bunch of Women and a Nap" type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-3600163742876685188</id><published>2010-09-02T08:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T08:12:29.136-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="1st dates"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="booze"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="I don't drink"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="online dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Water Guy"/><title type="text">When the lies slip out</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;It's not that I meant to lie; it just slipped out. &amp;nbsp;Last night, I had drinks with Mr. Non-Divorced Non-Drinker or Mr. Sprite. &amp;nbsp;It was all in all a pretty good date. &amp;nbsp;He made me feel comfortable for the most part. &amp;nbsp;He was chatty but not overly so. &amp;nbsp;We laughed a lot about other dates we have had. &amp;nbsp;We seemed to have similar backgrounds and some similar interests. &amp;nbsp;He is definitely more artsy than I am. &amp;nbsp;Who am I kidding....everyone is more artsy than I am. &amp;nbsp;He's really into making music, photography, and graphic design. &amp;nbsp;These things are great. &amp;nbsp;I am just totally unable to do anything of them with any sort of success or enjoyment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So where did the lie slip out? &amp;nbsp;I asked why he didn't drink. &amp;nbsp;He said, "I quit first of all and second, he couldn't if he wanted to as he was on some&amp;nbsp;medicine&amp;nbsp;to get his&amp;nbsp;cholesterol under control." I think, personally, the "I quit" statement is a bit of a red flag as (to me) it indicates at some point there was a problem. &amp;nbsp;The cholesterol issue...my mom and brother are cholesterol drugs and they still drink. &amp;nbsp;I've also never dated anyone, knowingly, that had what I consider "older people issues". &amp;nbsp;I guess these are things you get used to in dating the 40 plus set, but I digress.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;He asked, "Is this a problem for you?" &amp;nbsp;This is when the lie slipped out because I said, "No, given your personality and approach, it's not a problem." &amp;nbsp;It wasn't a TOTAL lie as Mr. Sprite's personality was not condescending and negative like&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-dont-drink-water-guy.html"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;the Water Guy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;. &amp;nbsp;He was totally ok with me drinking. &amp;nbsp;The lie is it is a problem. &amp;nbsp;I hate that it is and I wish deep down I didn't feel that way. &amp;nbsp;But here's why I do:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;What if I get wasted, he won't be and will remember all of the idiotic things I do perfectly. &amp;nbsp;ICK! &amp;nbsp;I take great comfort in that on most occasions my friends/family end up drinking as much as I do so we both do some stupid shit and can all laugh later &lt;b&gt;together&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Making out in bars (yes, I am TOO old to do this but I want the option). &amp;nbsp;Making out with a sober someone isn't very likely to happen. &amp;nbsp;I don't really mean full fledge getting it on but stealing kisses, flirting, and so on. &amp;nbsp;I guess I drink on some level to reduce inhibitions...sue me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;My family likes to drink (this is looking way far ahead and unrealistic, I know). &amp;nbsp;If I brought someone home who didn't partake, they would think I should go to the looney bin and he should already be there. &amp;nbsp;My friends fall in this category too. &amp;nbsp;Again, ridiculous, if someone is making a "healthy" choice, it shouldn't be a problem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/07/word-vomit-or-why-i-like-non-divorced.html"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Word vomit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;- We all know I like I ramble and talk a fair amount. &amp;nbsp;I would always feel like I'm censoring myself on some level if he was sober. &amp;nbsp;Some of shit I say doesn't make sense when I've had too many cocktails, but generally, other drunk people understand. &amp;nbsp;Yes, this is stupid, again sue me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Crazy drunk sex. &amp;nbsp;You can't have this with a sober partner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So, none of my reasons are very good...I'm willing to admit that. &amp;nbsp;However, it's still an issue. What makes this even more ironic is that I didn't drink until college. &amp;nbsp;I was totally content being stone cold sober in high school while all of my friends and boyfriends were wasted. &amp;nbsp;They didn't have a problem with me; so why do I have problem in the reverse? &amp;nbsp;Don't know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Mr. Sprite also seemed to be a little too willing to talk about feelings on a first date. &amp;nbsp;There was a little too much information about his recent separation which I appreciate but..... &amp;nbsp;I certainly don't want a non-emotional man but don't want an overly emotional man either. &amp;nbsp;Hello, I am the girl. &amp;nbsp; Guess, the word vomit wouldn't be that much of an issue. &amp;nbsp;Now that's I've talked in circles, I'll end with a quote:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #32363f;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;"I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the morning, that's as good as they're going to feel all day”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/3600163742876685188/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/09/when-lies-slip-out.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="2 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/3600163742876685188" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/3600163742876685188" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/09/when-lies-slip-out.html" rel="alternate" title="When the lies slip out" type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-3545765348893808889</id><published>2010-08-27T08:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-27T08:41:06.777-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="1st dates"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="annoying"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="awkward dates"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="conversation"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="online dating"/><title type="text">Awkward Food and the Interview Date</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;My first date after a 3 week hiatus was...umm...more like than interview than a date. &amp;nbsp;We hugged when we met and when we left but everything in between felt similar to an interview. &amp;nbsp;The conversation primarily revolved around work, growing up, and the like--normal first date conversation, but t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"&gt;here just wasn't any warmth about it. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"&gt;We ordered a couple of glasses of wine and some food. &amp;nbsp;He ordered sushi and I ordered a grilled chicken flat bread. &amp;nbsp;I thought both seemed pretty date friendly food. &amp;nbsp;When my plate arrived, however, BOY was I wrong. &amp;nbsp;There was a mound of uncooked spinach on top of a flat bread that wasn't completely cut into pieces. &amp;nbsp;So, every time I tried to eat the salad on top the flat bread moved around the plate. &amp;nbsp;We both commented on how challenging it was going to be for me to try and eat this thing. &amp;nbsp;Then, there was the amount of red onion and olives....even if I had wanted to kiss Mr. Interview, it would've resulted in a breath disaster. &amp;nbsp;I bumbled through saying if I ended up with spinach on top of my head, it would be nice if he'd let me know. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"&gt;I will admit part of it was me. &amp;nbsp;I'm still a little down and out from the loss of my friend who was also the GM of my golf course. &amp;nbsp;We talked about that briefly and he was surprised and interested in that I ran a golf course on a day to day basis. &amp;nbsp;Then, we started talking about how that's not what I really want to be doing. &amp;nbsp;I want to be working for a multi-national corporation doing marketing research and analysis specifically pertaining to China. &amp;nbsp;Yes, I am very specific (this is also what every job search guru says to be) and yes, I am not in the greatest market--NYC or San Fran might be better, but I love NC and want to live either here or in China. &amp;nbsp;A little extreme, but that's me. &amp;nbsp;It was nice of him to offer suggestions, but he also said with China now being the 2nd largest economy, how can you not get a job? &amp;nbsp;I've thought the same damn thing. &amp;nbsp;And I don't know--maybe it's me; maybe it's the economy; maybe it's both. &amp;nbsp;Just didn't want to have the same conversation that I've had in my head for the past a year and a half again without concrete suggestions like I know so and so, you should talk to them. &amp;nbsp;This is way TOO much to ask of a first date, I know. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"&gt;This is also why I still keep going back for more with &lt;a href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/06/round-2-non-divorced-guy-and-no-i-dont.html"&gt;Mr. Non-Divorced Guy&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;along with the ability to have &lt;a href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/07/word-vomit-or-why-i-like-non-divorced.html"&gt;word vomit&lt;/a&gt;. &amp;nbsp;After our first date, he knew someone with contacts at Electrolux and forwarded my name and resume. &amp;nbsp;Too much to expect, but unexpectedly very helpful and nice. &amp;nbsp;Speaking of, Mr. Non-Divorce Guy has asked me to go to a football game on Nov. 20. &amp;nbsp;WOW--talk about long range plans...maybe by then, we'll be able to do the wild thing as he divorced will be finalized.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"&gt;So, another resounding NEXT...got another date tonight...&lt;/span&gt;</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/3545765348893808889/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/08/awkward-food-and-interview-date.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="2 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/3545765348893808889" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/3545765348893808889" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/08/awkward-food-and-interview-date.html" rel="alternate" title="Awkward Food and the Interview Date" type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-2773721521719998232</id><published>2010-08-25T12:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T12:40:40.343-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="awkward dates"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Facebook"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="online dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="strange"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="turnoffs"/><title type="text">Overeagerness is NOT attractive - Part 2</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;A while back prior to&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/08/overeagerness-is-not-attractive.html"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Overeagerness is NOT attractive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;aka Mr. Grenada, the same girlfriend and I were out at the Epicenter in Charlotte. &amp;nbsp;We were having drinks, chatting, and lounging on these comfy love seats they have at Mez. &amp;nbsp;A friend of a friend of my friend was there and started chatting us up. &amp;nbsp;He was cute and again, I was hoping he would have cute friends and again, alas he didn't. &amp;nbsp;He did, however, have Jimmy. &amp;nbsp;Jimmy is about 5'5" (that's being generous) and was convinced he was one of the most connected men in Charlotte. &amp;nbsp;That might or might not be the case, but who goes around talking about it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Jimmy and I are introduced. &amp;nbsp;Immediately, Jimmy asks how in the world I can be single. &amp;nbsp;I hate this question as most single people do. &amp;nbsp;In fact, it is #3 in the top &lt;a href="http://lifestyle.msn.com/relationships/articlematch.aspx?cp-documentid=24519920&amp;amp;Gt1=32023"&gt;19 Things You Should Never Say to a Single Person&lt;/a&gt; on MSN. &amp;nbsp;Maybe, I'm too picky; maybe, I just haven't found "him" yet; bottom line, I'm not sure. &amp;nbsp;I think I'm wonderful but I haven't found a special someone that I think is wonderful back. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;I digress. &amp;nbsp;Jimmy proceeds to go on and on that he is going to convince me to marry him by the end of the night. &amp;nbsp;SAY WHAT!? &amp;nbsp;I think to myself you are short, overeager, and clearly is too big for his britches--why would I ever be interested...YUCK! &amp;nbsp;Somehow, my friend and I are unable to get away from Jimmy and Jimmy keeps berating me with how I'm beautiful, so worldly, and so shouldn't be single. &amp;nbsp;This lasts until 3am. &amp;nbsp;Again, I'm an idiot and give the correct phone number. &amp;nbsp;(Why do I do this?) &amp;nbsp;I also make the fatal mistake of getting pizza with him afterwards. &amp;nbsp;At which point, he then starts trying to get me to go home with him. &amp;nbsp;Friend has already left with her then boyfriend. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Compliments have certainly worked their charm on me before and have persuaded me to go home with boys that I wouldn't have usually go home with, but Jimmy and his talk of marriage has me literally contemplating maybe I don't ever want to marry ANYONE. &amp;nbsp;Mind you--at this point, I'm almost 30 (now I've already joined the club) and marriage is kind of looming in the background (why aren't I there yet, all of my friends are kind of head talk). &amp;nbsp;And this guy has made of scared of it! &amp;nbsp;So home I head wondering where are all the normal ones?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Next day, he calls, texts, and finds me on Facebook and tries to persuade to A) go out that Saturday night B) we are perfectly suited for each other. &amp;nbsp;I ignore the offers to go out but strangely accept the FB request. &amp;nbsp;Fast forward a few months, I see he is engaged about 6 months after the episode at the Epicenter. &amp;nbsp;How has he had time to meet, date, and get engaged in 6 months? &amp;nbsp;Man, he seriously was on a mission and really wasn't kidding with me. &amp;nbsp;Hmmmm...fast forward another 3 months, his FB status no longer says engaged and GUESS WHAT--he winks at me on Match.com. &amp;nbsp;WTF--I have officially come full circle.&lt;/span&gt;</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/2773721521719998232/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/08/overeagerness-is-not-attractive-part-2.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="2 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/2773721521719998232" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/2773721521719998232" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/08/overeagerness-is-not-attractive-part-2.html" rel="alternate" title="Overeagerness is NOT attractive - Part 2" type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-1649014594802671823</id><published>2010-08-18T07:21:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-18T07:25:40.497-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="annoying"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="marriage"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="online dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="turnoffs"/><title type="text">Marriage Minded--what?!</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;If this doesn't sound like a scam, I don't know what does. &amp;nbsp;Even more funny is that I've received this same email at least 3 times. &amp;nbsp;Therefore, I felt I just had to post...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;" valign="top" width="153"&gt;&lt;div style="padding-top: 10px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.match.com/doubleblind/emailform.aspx?uid=7q8mvLJqk26cyg7bnI1TlA%3d%3d&amp;amp;trackingid=0&amp;amp;TP=D&amp;amp;Handle=marriageminded2&amp;amp;Bannerid=512884&amp;amp;MID=1495740142&amp;amp;emailid=3d3fd722-172c-426a-9230-869625ca3154" style="color: #547fa9; font-size: 13px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"&gt;marriageminded&lt;/a&gt;x&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: #353535; font-size: 11px;"&gt;56, Atlanta, GA&lt;br /&gt;
Seeking Female 30-42&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;" valign="top" width="380"&gt;&lt;div style="padding-top: 5px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Gentleman Lawyer- Funny, Normal, Adventurous. Still A Believer In The Magic Of Romance, Chance, Fate And Adventure!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="padding-top: 5px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"&gt;MY PROFILE: I still believe in the magic of romance, chance and fate after my recent break up from someone who was not ready to move on with life although she may have believed so. Remember anything in life worth doing has some element of risk and I did my best for love but love and fate held out that my ex-girlfriend was not my right person. Perhaps you are to me but you will need&lt;a href="http://www.match.com/login/login.aspx?LAND=/profile/ShowProfile.aspx?Handle=marriageminded2&amp;amp;EmailId=3d3fd722-172c-426a-9230-869625ca3154" style="color: #547fa9; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"&gt;… Read more »&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#E9E8E8" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #555555; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;From:&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.match.com/doubleblind/emailform.aspx?uid=7q8mvLJqk26cyg7bnI1TlA%3d%3d&amp;amp;trackingid=0&amp;amp;TP=D&amp;amp;Handle=marriageminded2&amp;amp;Bannerid=512884&amp;amp;MID=1495740142&amp;amp;emailid=3d3fd722-172c-426a-9230-869625ca3154" style="color: #547fa9; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"&gt;marriageminded&lt;/a&gt;x&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;lt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;em&gt;marriagemindedx@talkmatch.com&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;gt; /&amp;nbsp;&lt;strong&gt;Received:&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;August 14, 2010&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
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&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="30" cellspacing="0" style="border-collapse: collapse; border-left-color: rgb(207, 207, 207); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(207, 207, 207); border-right-style: solid; border-right-width: 1px; width: 485px;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;h1&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;You are my match and simply adorable!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;My promise to myself for Summer 2010 was to change my profile to get off match and move on with my life now with my right person since I have ended an engagement with an exgirlfriend last summer. She was on match so I know there are quality women on this site. The challenge is to meet your match who is ready, willing and able to move on with their life with you and that can take time. She was 33 years old and age was never an issue with us. I am so very interested in your profile and you are very beautiful and very lovely. There is a proverb that all good things come to those who wait. I think it was written with you in mind :o) But I can't wait any longer with my teenage son going to college next year and so much more I want to do in life but have a vision of myself, among other things, as a married person. I can be the bestest friend in addition to possibly being your soul mate [may be just have been born a bit early on the universe time clock...LOL]; so please read my profile then call me for a friendly, no strings chat at 770-591-xxxx leaving a message with a good time and good phone number to call you back if you reach my voice mail. I hope you call me and just be open to a year of new beginnings!!! Cheers, Patrick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
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&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/1649014594802671823/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/08/marriage-minded-what.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/1649014594802671823" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/1649014594802671823" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/08/marriage-minded-what.html" rel="alternate" title="Marriage Minded--what?!" type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-3740668038146768997</id><published>2010-08-18T07:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-18T07:17:14.922-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="30"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bad news"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="overload"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="vacation"/><title type="text">Welcome to the 30 Club</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Today, I turn 30. &amp;nbsp;I thought as I got closer it would result in me being more of an adult. &amp;nbsp;Maybe after today, it will. &amp;nbsp;The past 2 weeks have not indicated as such. &amp;nbsp;Let me explain...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I went to the Dominican Republic with my parents to celebrate. &amp;nbsp;I was supposed to leave on Sat., Aug 7th. &amp;nbsp;I didn't, however, get there until Tues., Aug 10th. &amp;nbsp;I checked my passport 5 times before leaving and read that it expired on May 10 2011. &amp;nbsp;Boy, did I get a shock when I tried to check in at 6am August 7th when the agent said it was already expired and I couldn't board the plane. &amp;nbsp;The next 3 days were spent calling and emailing my Senator's office, getting an emergency passport appointment, and driving to and from DC. &amp;nbsp;Fortunately, I have a friend that works in the Senator's office as well as personally knowing the Senator (I took ballet with her oldest daughter). &amp;nbsp;Fortunately, it worked out and I arrived Tuesday afternoon. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I thought the vacation would be relaxing and it was after I arrived. &amp;nbsp;I thought there would (hopefully) be some stories as well, but alas being surrounded by families with children and couples doesn't result in such.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Fast forward to Saturday...I land in Raleigh and receive a voice mail that a very close friend had passed away in a motorcycle accident. &amp;nbsp;He also worked with me and helped me run my family's business. &amp;nbsp;Very unexpected and upsetting. &amp;nbsp;Hence why I've been MIA from the blog and Twitter. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Sorry to be Debbie Downer...hope everything can get more back to normal soon....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/3740668038146768997/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/08/welcome-to-30-club.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="3 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/3740668038146768997" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/3740668038146768997" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/08/welcome-to-30-club.html" rel="alternate" title="Welcome to the 30 Club" type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8685079163726353980.post-6401669049475201249</id><published>2010-08-04T11:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-04T11:20:32.473-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="douche bags"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gentleman"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="manners"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mortified"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="race"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="turnoffs"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Yankee"/><title type="text">Overeagerness is NOT attractive</title><content type="html">Being overly eager does not an attractive date make. &amp;nbsp;Sure, you want them to like you (assuming you like them), you want them to call and text, but paying an inordinate amount of attention is a TOTAL turnoff. &amp;nbsp;Allow me to explain.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This past Friday, I went out with a girlfriend. &amp;nbsp;We went to dinner and then went to have drinks at the Gin Mill. &amp;nbsp;It's usually a pretty low key place with a decent crowd and usually some cuties. &amp;nbsp;This point was proven when Mr. Michigan approached. &amp;nbsp;He was a little younger, 27, and attracted to my friend. &amp;nbsp;Great--I was hoping he would have a cute friend in tow but alas that was not the case. &amp;nbsp;As they continued chatting, I looked around to see if perhaps there might be a cutie for me. &amp;nbsp;Then, Mr. Grenada approaches and states in a Caribbean/pseudo English accent that in Grenada, I would certainly not be single and I should join him and his friends. &amp;nbsp;My friend was, meanwhile, still being entertained, so I joined them. &amp;nbsp;Partly out of boredom, but I'm also a sucker for a compliment no matter how ridiculous. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Mr. Grenada pulled out my chair to allow me to sit down (very gentlemanly) and we chat. &amp;nbsp;He then proceeds to say he is going to take me on a date this coming week and how very, very, very much he likes me. &amp;nbsp;At this point, I'm sort of playing along and he is nice. &amp;nbsp;I'm just not attracted to him that way. &amp;nbsp;Mr. Michigan is still hitting on my friend and starting to make a bit of a fool of himself. &amp;nbsp;Mr. Grenada comments why is Mr. Michigan's every other word the f-bomb. &amp;nbsp;To which I reply, I don't know but he seems like a moron. &amp;nbsp;(Always a shame when they are cute but douche bags. &amp;nbsp;Also a shame when they are nice but you're not a attracted) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The night continues with Mr. Grenada continuing to talk about this future date and at this point, I'm really wanting to go home and do not want to go out with him. &amp;nbsp;But I'm an idiot and when he asks for my number, I give it to him and the real one. &amp;nbsp;I know--shame on me, but I felt bad he was nice. &amp;nbsp;Mr. Michigan proceeds to pee in the tree on the roof deck, comes back to the table, calls Mr. Grenada a "negro" (YES OMG-my friend and I were MORTIFIED), and then Mr. Michigan is kicked out of the bar. &amp;nbsp;So my friend and I are gushing apologies at the idiocy of Mr. Michigan. &amp;nbsp;(Sidenote: &amp;nbsp;Both of us are very Southern, but under NO circumstance is using negro or the other n word EVER EVER appropriate.) &amp;nbsp;Obviously, it is time to go. &amp;nbsp;Mr. Grenada walks us to the car and what do you know but Mr. Michigan is waiting outside for us to come out. &amp;nbsp;We dodge him and hop in the car. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Fast forward to Saturday (yes, the next day), Mr. Grenada calls and texts within an hour of each other. &amp;nbsp;I reply saying I'm with family and will be for the weekend (which is true) and will call Mon. &amp;nbsp;He texts on Sunday &amp;nbsp;saying he hopes I am having fun with the family. &amp;nbsp;He texts Monday and calls twice. &amp;nbsp;He texts again on Tuesday. &amp;nbsp;Come on man--clearly, I'm busy and/or don't want to talk. &amp;nbsp;Give up the goose. &amp;nbsp;I realize it is my fault for giving him my number and I should grow some balls and just say I'm not interested. &amp;nbsp;Honestly though, even if I was REALLY attracted to him, I wouldn't want or need this much attention within 4 days of meeting him. &amp;nbsp;I've dated guys for years and not gotten this many messages or phone calls within such a short period. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Plus, I leave for the Dominican Republic in 3 days! &amp;nbsp;...for my 30th...EEK!! &amp;nbsp;I have another similar story but I'll save it for another post...</content><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/feeds/6401669049475201249/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/08/overeagerness-is-not-attractive.html#comment-form" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/6401669049475201249" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8685079163726353980/posts/default/6401669049475201249" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://myso-calledonlinedatinglife.blogspot.com/2010/08/overeagerness-is-not-attractive.html" rel="alternate" title="Overeagerness is NOT attractive" type="text/html"/><author><name>Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06315233971048717719</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//3.bp.blogspot.com/_24LSqG2vEbk/SNjq0zaNjzI/AAAAAAAABXI/GTZT0l44ytY/S220-s105/face+shot.jpg" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>