Cyber Clicking

Have you ever joined one of those dating websites?  Did you find anyone? Was it really worth your time?

Well- I've done it all. This site, that site, the other site. Bla bla bla. 

I didn't find anyone, hence the still single thing. And it was basically a waste of my time. 

This is what happened. 

Check it-
First site- you know the one with the so called million compatibility functions. Well, they asked me to put in my preferences. I did and initially I was a little excited about the matches. Once I was done, a whole line up of gents popped up. Apparently when I put in my preferences- I like to be physically active and education is important, I got a line up of meat heads and geeks. Um....not exactly what I was looking for. I really meant- I am looking for someone who values those same characteristics. I really don't want to date a lazy person. I prefer someone who is headed in a healthy direction. As for education, I have a master's degree. So, I need someone to keep up. You know-challenge me, mentally. Also, I like my gents with flavor. This particular site didn't offer anyone with flavor with the characteristically that I value. What? Really? No one with flavor and education applies for these sites. Exactly! NEXT. 

Next site- lets try one with more flavor. Um....right. Now this one has no compatibility functions. All I had to do was create a profile. Then creepy dudes bugged the heck out of me. I would not even call these guys gents. Most of them were looking for "something-something". You know what I mean? wink wink. Not interested. Or they were creepy old guys (again!...I know). There were no men of substance. NEXT.

Next site- lets go opposite. Let's try some religious oriented site. Boring! No flavor here either. A little bit more compatibility than the last- but still nothing. Lame.  Vanilla on top of vanilla. The only funny thing was seeing the same people on the same sites. Hilarious. I'm done. 

So, that's my story of the cyber dating. I'm leaving this fake-profile-online-meeting-shindig. 

I want to talk and flirt with a real person. I don't want to cyber "wink" you or poke you or sign up for a membership only to email you two sentences. I don't need to know your whole life from reading it on one web page. I would like to feel vibes and watch body language. The words on your profile don't show me who you really are. I want to hear inflections and tone and attitude. I don't care about your posed photos and what I should be attracted to. I don't want to meet you in person after I know everything about you online. 

I want to stumble upon someone while my daily walk, or flight rather.  

The Husband

I just finished my favorite snack; popcorn with parmesean cheese and garlic salt.
I was planning of writing this blog while snacking, but then realized I couldn't really type with cheesy buttery fingers.
Now that I'm done, we can commence about: The Husband.
The husband is a guy I will in future posts reference as "the husband."
His version of the story is much better, we usually argue about who is going to tell the story when we introduce each other. You'll have to do with my version.
A couple of years ago, I was asked to help a wedding tutorial for school. I called some friends for help as actors and crew to film this experience. In walked my guy friend and he was immediately assigned to portray the groom- and guess who was bride? Me!
So, we got married. It's filmed. The professor led the "ceremony." Ever since then, the whole group of us joke that is was secretly ligetimate because we said all the words that would be in an actual wedding.
Depending on his mood, the husband says, "But I really crossed my fingers."
But that's how he became the husband.

Now, throughout the past years- our relationship was an open one. lol. We would hang out and discuss who he was dating and who I was dating. I've always loved processing relationships with the husband. He's a good guy, but sometimes melodramatic. I'm sure he might actually say the same thing about me, or maybe just dramatic.

Here's a story about one night when I went out with the husband.
We arranged a date to celebrate a big meeting he had. I happen to be in the city and wanted to show him a particular swanky bar.
I remember specifically hating the outfit I was wearing. Not that I needed to impress him, it was the husband, after all. But I didn't particularly feel confident enough to go this bar I wanted to take him to. I even went to a store to see if I could find something just right. No luck. I ended up just changing the venue to a more casual place. Mind you- he showed up in a suit (from his meeting). I figured he wouldn't feel as uncomfortable, if we just went to a local pub.
We started at one place, were he actually was very vulnerable. It was a new place in our friendship. Then we moved to another venue- one I felt fairly comfortable in. Although, at this particular time the bar was kinda busy- and there wasn't much space.
I scoped out the seats at the bar, and noticed two seats between an older black male and the wall.  (which ironically this is another story that could have been in a previous post). The husband knows what kind of flavor I prefer, so he suggested I sit next to the stranger and he take the other seat. I obliged.

Back to relationship conversation. "What do you want that you're not getting?" I pronounce in his direction. He paused. I continued, "I mean you don't want a stupid broad, right?" The man next to me, smiled and laughed so that we could hear us. We asked for advice. Which was pretty awesome. George was his name. He told us that we should get all the action while we could get it, because when you get older beauty and organs don't cut it as much. After the more suggestive conversation ended, George gave some serious advice about finding someone to make you happy. It was nice, and he continued to share about his life. I remember he liked saxophone jazz artists. The husband has a great art for conversation.
Somehow, we both fell in love with George and pushed him with questions regarding right from wrong, good from evil, truth from lies. The husband eloquently and respectfully debated back. I was in the middle enjoying it thoroughly. We learned that George had lost his faith along the way. From my perspective, we ended the conversation with hope, kindness and love.

As we walked out, the husband was a little worried about his apologetics, but I assured him he was fine. I was proud of him. I encouraged him that this kind of conversation was a gift and that he should continue in it. I, on the other hand, process things slower, and debate is not a tool I have handy. I told him all I could do is encourage and pray. I did. I love the husband.

George had mentioned he went to this pub every week for happy hour, and especially when a particular bartender worked. I went back a week later, to have a follow up conversation. He wasn't there. Hopefully, I'll run into George again one day.

Sheep in Wolf's Clothing

The following is partial letter and partial processing.

I ran into a wolf the other day.
Yah, I'm pretty sure he was functioning as a wolf at that time.
It was the charm, charisma and eye contact. I offered my number first, (all textbook).
Come to find out, through his own insights, this wolf is changing his skin. Now, I can't really tell if there's always been a sheep underneath that thick black fur or this is a complete transformation.
I'm still trying to figure this one out.
Literally in black and white, he spells it out to me. All the secrets of being a wolf. But are they secrets now? And do the secrets count if they don't mean anything now?


Mr. Used-to-be-a-wolf:
If you no longer want to be a wolf, then what good is it that I know wolf secrets?
If you are leaving the city and turning in your wolf mask, claws and fur, what's underneath?
I want to know those secrets. I'm curious if you are really ready to leave.
I'm curious what was that pivotal moment where you said- I can't do this wolf thing anymore?
If your reading this, Mr. Used-to-be-a-wolf, I'd like to know what you want? 
What are you looking for?


Sometimes, I think I'm just wasting my time. If the wolf doesn't know what he wants- then maybe I should just move on or put him in the just-a-friend category. That would be easy for me, that would be familiar. What's not familiar is trusting, and being vulnerable. What's hard is letting my guard down and letting him get to know me? I wonder if he actually wants to get to know me.

What is a man? I've heard you say, "A real man is redundant...He doesn't need descriptions...his actions shout man, they shout truth, they are evident like the sun's light..."
What if you take the pursuit out of a man?? What does that leave? Is he still searching for the one? What feeds your soul? 
I know you're afraid to open up- we all are. Do you ever want to take a risk? Perhaps you're happy with the three and I should just let you be.


Honestly, I'd love to make this into a project. He is worth and deserves more, so I won't.

I'd like to unwrap you. 
I'd like to pull you apart, dissect you-savouring every bit. 
I'm so fascinated by your mysteriousness. You are so cool, calm and collected. 
I want to know where you came from, who raised you, and what you rebelled against.
I know you could flip me, spin circles around and chase me down, but you choose not to. 
You say you're shy, I see you in the backseat. 
You speak about this former wolf, but really, I'm over that.
I want to know the real ins and outs of you, now. 
What made you change your ways? Why go against the system? 
What crossed your  path and told you to go straight? 

I have so many questions.
I wish I hadn't read his tell all book. I get confused sometimes.
I wish he could just put down the claws.
Then I would know if he was functioning as a sheep or a wolf.
By the way, he never used to the word, sheep. I did. And in my definition it's not negative or weak.
A sheep is humbled by his Master. A sheep is aware who he belongs too.
Aside from that, men and women were created for each other.
He and She is just complimentary.

Between ribs you'll find my place,
Urban Bird

Oh, That's Your Grandchild?!

Does it look like I have the words, "If you're older than 50, please hit on me," written on my forehead?

I don't understand! Do I exude some kind of pheromone that attracts these old heads? For real, I get that I can be nice- but I'm really not interested. Check it, in one 24 hour period I had two of these encounters.

Here's how it went.

Old head #1
Went to a new bar, a little bit more flavor this time. I met a friend who happened to work at this fine establishment. So, I was kinda by myself while my friend was working. I sat sipping on a rum flavored straw to the side, slightly uncomfortable and not in my element. I was looking pretty fly though, if I might say.
After about 20 minutes, a more mature looking guy came up to me and started laying some THICK lines down. I won't go into all the phrases he said, but boy- they were funny.
Let me give you the jist though. He basically told me that all the guys in the bar were fake and that I needed a real man. (What ever that is!) He proceed to say he would like to take me out to dinner, take me to the casino to play and go dancing. Later in the evening his proposal gifts got even more lavish and more extravagant - he offered to pay my bills!
NO JOKE! He wanted to take care of me,"like a good man should" in his words.
Ok- so, as I mentioned previously, I have a hard time saying no. Now, I never said yes, to any of his offers, I just never said no. I wasn't going to say yes either. I was playing nice, and occasionally I would run to my friend working and whisper, "You wouldn't believe what this dude is telling me." We laughed it off, and I went back to playing nice. My phone was my main distraction for most of the night. He had pulled out his, and I noticed a little baby on his phone. I said, "Oh, how cute! Is that your daughter?" His reply: "No, it's my grandchild."
Wait! What? That's your grandchild?! Holy crap. This just went from uncomfortable to now creepy.
How do I get out of this one? I was supposed to hang out with my friend after work. I couldn't really leave. Ur- uh. Whew! Last call. Maybe I'll just excuse myself to the ladies room for a few minutes- and when I return he will be gone.
Heel, toe, Heel, toe. To the restroom I walk away- and roll my eyes knowing he's watching me walk away. Lock myself in, wash hands, reapply lip gloss, check my phone, wait a few seconds- there's a knock at the bathroom door. Really!? Really?!
I come out- Surprise! Guess who's there- trying to feel up on me? Old head! Um- where's my friend, now? I give his a polite hug and he decides to leave. Finally.
I then feel I needed to wash in Listerine, or bathe in bleach or scrub with borax. Shutter.

Old head #2
In the city, driving in my cute little red sporty car. My windows a rolled down, I'm jammin to some music. A clunker of a truck pulls up to the right of me- and an older gentlemen who did not have all of this teeth- proceeded to cat call at me. I couldn't really ignore it because my windows were down and he noticed me hear him. Yikes. I said, "thanks for the compliment," with a saccharine smile. Then he continued to say something about my man and not telling him and such and such. Apparently, he hadn't seen a "sexy smile" like mine in a long time.
Where do people get these ideas? And these words? And the idea that they can just say these words!?


Is there any hope? I'm a young urban bird- can't I just date a guy in my same generation. Is that so hard to ask!
Laughing out loud, literally.

Playground

I went to the playground.
Walked around the jungle gym and he followed me. I walked to the swings, through the grass, over the pavement and in the gravel. These swings were odd and not normal. I swung back and forth because that's all my body could do. It was late and I couldn't really think. He stood by.
Then I walked to the basketball court and I paced. Not just for a minute, but for a while. Back and forth. I closed my eyes and counted the steps to took to cross the width of the court. It was fifteen. I did it blind in the black of the night. I forgot my jacket and I got chilly. I don't want to admit it, but he was nice to offer his. Then I remember how it felt to spin in circles like a little girl and loose myself in the dizzyness. I spun, but I think my head was spinning faster.
He said he finally knew what it felt like. It was a relief to me. I didn't think he would ever understand.
Now, I at least have comradeship.
My body ran out of energy and I sat on the cold pavement. No new words, but acknowledgement.
I gave back the jacket, a hug and prayers were said.
New leaf, new start, new flight.

I've decided I am going to approach this urban bird's flight by soaring to new heights.
I think I will fly above the city, rather than walk among it.
I'm tired of getting gum on my shoes, rained on and getting lost.

Robin's and Rum

This urban bird is not prone to say yes to dates at Red Robin at 5pm.
I conferred with several of my buddies- and I got a 50/50 poll answer on whether to go or not.
I went.
I went with a stipulation- that I had to say no, if I wasn't impressed by Red Robin man.
This is where I divulge a secret   ~ It's hard for me to say no. ~
I'm working on it.
Anywho- there I went to Red Robin at 5pm, on a Monday. I showed up wearing a casual but cute outfit. He showed up in sneekers, jeans and a grey t-shirt. Um- not impressed. Awkward hug at the front door. We met separately, which all first dates should be. 45 mins later, we were done with our meal. I was thoroughly bored, but he wanted to continue to date.
Excuse me, but continue the date where? It's 6pm on a Monday? He mentioned something about playing pool. I stuck to my guns and said I wasn't comfortable going far away to a seedy bar to play pool. He was persistent and asked the waitress if she knew a close place. By happenstance there were two chain restaurants that had a pool table near by. I had been to both- so i felt comfortable enough to have a drink and play a game of pool.
I met him at chain restaurant #1.
The table was being used- so we just had a drink and talked. About nothing. Literally about nothing. To this day, I can't remember what we actually talked about for an hourish. Oddly, as boring as it continued to be- he still wanted to play pool. I told him that I hadn't played pool since highschool after prom. Lucky for him, chain restaurant #2 was literally across the street.
I didn't really have much to do, again it was Monday- now 7pm.
I met him at chain restaurant #2.
The table was being used- so we just had a drink and talked. Then I think he felt awkward, and wanted to do something other than sit and drink. They had a little arcade- we we played a deer hunting game. (If anyone reading this knows me- that would be really weird to see- and it was) I kicked his butt- those bucks were mine. Then we played a basketball game. Not to be overtly confident, but my form was way better.
We sat after and proceeded to talk about trains for the next 30 mins. Yes, the train man was back. Oi Vey.
All I was thinking was, how do I get out of this date without being rude? Should I just suck it up or make an excuse to leave? The sun was starting to set, and my attention span was now at it's tension spring.
I sucked it up, gave him a hug good bye and ran out like a mad woman seeking authentic and non boring attention.
For all those who care, I told him- Thanks, but no thanks- to his second offer out.
Shutter. Never again.
I need more flavor in my dates or at least someone who's not socially awkward.

Serenade and Baseball

Just think of baseball, just think of baseball, just think of baseball.
That never works for me. I do have a liking to baseball. It reminds me of spring in San Francisco, with my grandfather. Ah, baseball.
As I am in the local of the Pirates- I figured I could use this to my advantage.
Quick backstory: I have a bank- where at one point all the debit cards were this bright orange and everyone I knew had them. I'm not a follower and like to be distinct, so i decided to get a personalized debit card. Yah, I know fancy pants. I didn't go to any of the big schools out here- so I choose the Pirates as the cover of my debit card.
Back to the current situation. I am sitting at the bar. The Pirates are currently on the tv. I say to the bartender, "So, since I'm paying with my (wink wink) Pirates card and the Pirates are on tv- I think I should get a discount."
Ok- I had to try. I grew up being taught- only stupid people don't ask questions. Worse case senerio- I had to pay what I ordered for.
The bartender replied- "Well, maybe if the Pirates were in the World Series. Go Dodgers!"
I thought my chances were slim now.

Before paying I decided to step out on to the patio for a breath of not so fresh air.  There was a cute gaggle of friends chatting away outside. I eaves-dropped and would frequently smile in their general direction as a pleasant casualty. After a few minutes, most of them went back in with the exception of this one boisterous bloke.
Five minutes prior to standing alone with him, I made a cheapshot at how I thought he was exceptionally drunk. I wasn't quite sure how the secluded time would go.
But there I was standing and talking with him. He asked me where I was from, which I replied California. I mentioned something about the bay area and Berkeley. He mentioned something about he went to Berkeley in Boston. A prestigious school for music. I asked what he studied. He replied vocal.
We got on the topic of favorite music, bands and singers. He wants to be a rock star. But at Berkeley you can't major in rockstarness. He said he was trained as an opera singer.
So, I challenged him- "Sing something."
Not sure if it was the liquor or what but he said- why not!
Then he sang me a few chords of an Italian Opera. Right there! Outside of my little brew pub.
It was fantastic. I've never been serenaded like that. He said he had never done that either.
Always a first.

I went back in, said good by to train man, good bye to the gaggle, and singed my bill.
Wait!~ Wait a second. I ordered three drinks. But he only charged me for two! What!
A serenade and a free drink because of baseball, heck ya.
Swing batter, swing!

Trains, Planes and more Trains.

At my local brew pub, I frequent occasionally- I found myself chatting with an average chap. Normally, I don't flutter about at this particular venue. In fact, it's not even in town. As I sat there, he started up conversation and I indulged for the heck of it. Why not, right? I'm single.
After the pleasantries about jobs and church and such, this particular gent started to talk about trains. He wasn't a regular at this bar. He happen to have been on this side of the neighborhood to watch trains, as he fancy's. At first, I was intrigued because I thought only old men and little boys liked the hobby and love of trains. He was in this early thirties and worked at Home Depot.
"So, do you want to work at Home Depot your whole life or what?" I asked. He did have dreams and goals. So, I kept the conversation going. Even after the awkward silence, the train conversation (might I say quiet one sided) continued. All I really said was, "Wow," "Interesting," and "Humm...I didn't know that".
Somehow, we got on the topic of finding new jobs and I offered him a non-profit website that I visit occasionally. At this point, he had finished his beer around the same time I had finished my second Strongbow. I didn't want to walk out with him. He was vanilla. Bland. Ordinary but socially odd. So, I had a clove and ordered another cider.
He said he had to hit the road as I predicted, and I handed him my business card. I didn't think I was overtly flirty, this was a business contact. He had mentioned grabbing a beer near his place. I shrugged it off- but apparently thirty minutes after I left the bar, he was serious.
Then, he sent me a picture of a train- that same night. Mind you all my reply's to his texts were one word answers. Not only was it a train, but a trash train. Yah, a train that holds trash.
Perhaps, no one told his fellow- sending picture of trash trains to women you're attracted to is not cute. In fact, it's weird and creepy.
I'm ending here. But sadly, this is not the end of train man.