On Line Dating - II

In February, 2007 I swore I'd never on-line date again. Then in October, 2007, with the realization that forever is an interminable amount of time, I attempted on-line dating one more time. Today, I've come to the realization that maybe on-line dating really isn't for me. Am I destined to a life alone? Well, that is an unpleasant thought. And anyone ever walking into this house realizes "alone" is definitely subject to interpretation. Summer's on its way and this house resembles a zoo, or more appropriately, and insane asylum during warm weather.

I have to admit, that on-line dating has become an amusing source of frustration. My tongue firmly planted in cheek these days. And once again, God has impressed upon me His/Her warped, sick and wacky sense of humor. A very sage southern gent keeps reminding me that this whole concept of dating is a numbers thAng. Plus, it only takes one. I get all that, but my numbers seem to be seriously skewed! Per my little ol' dating website, my profile recently surpassed 4700 views. Why am I putting that number into cyberspace? Boggles the mind doesn't it? Do you want to know how many dates I've had out of those 4700 views? Two. Both dates with the same guy back in November. If this is a numbers thAng then I am seriously in trouble.

Back in November, when I was unjaded and filled with the promise of many, many dates I met Don. After a few emails, we decide to meet. He teaches architectural history at a couple of Chicago colleges. We graduated from the same University a year apart, our kids are similar ages and we had similar interests. We agreed to meet at a little restaurant in LaGrange called Palmers. Now, I should have known better than to meet there because that restaurant has bad karma all over it from my blind date with a cop. Note to self, never agree to go to Palmers on a date EVER again.

We never actually made it to Palmers because on my way into the parking garage, my car battery decided to die...in the middle of the entrance to the garage. Ever multi-tasking, I stopped in the entrance because the lockbox to pay for my monthly commuter parking is attached to the parking garage. Since no one was behind me, I hopped out to drop off my check. Out of habit (I guess...it's the only reasonable explanation there is) I turned off the car. Fifteen seconds later, when I hopped back into my yellow beast attempting to start the engine nothing happened. CRAP!!! I looked up at the heavens above me thinking this can't be happening. It was. It did.

Yes, folks, no one could enter the garage until my bright yellow vehicle moved its butt out of the way! And my bright yellow vehicle wasn't moving out of the way until the battery got a well needed jolt of juice! Yes, God has a seriously wacky, wacky sense of humor!

So, I call Don, praying that he has jumper cables. He didn't. Neither did I. Mine were sitting on the floor of my garage. An excellent place for them, don't you agree? He pulls up behind my car. We introduce ourselves and I can tell he is a bit put out by the turn of events. I want to tell him, "Sweetie, you need to learn to roll with the punches...especially if you are going to hang with me. My life is chock full of rolling with punches." But, I don't...tell him that is...and decide to wait and see how the evening plays out.

A friend comes to my rescue who admonishes me for not having jumper cables in my car and shakes his head when he learns where they are sitting. How bad would I look if I told him that even if the jumper cables were handy, I wouldn't have a clue what to do with them? Don follows me to the dealership where I drop off my car so they can install a new battery in the morning and we go out for a drink to a little bar by my house. After a pleasant evening of conversation, he drives me home.

OK...that went well...he passed the rolling with the punches test after all. We both have a nice time and agree that we need to go out again sometime...soon. So, we do. On Friday, we meet at a bar near my office where we bump into a table of 10 guys with whom I work. Don asks if we can go to another bar. Sure. Do you not like the idea of my office-mates nearby? I rather liked the idea of them in eye shot since I didn't really know Don that well. Realizing it could be rather disconcerting for him, I agree to go somewhere else. We have a couple of drinks and great conversation. He brings up the subject of moving our relationship at a rather slow pace. Whew! I am very content on moving slow; refusing to make the same mistakes I made earlier in the year. (Offering the opportunity to make room for new and improved mistakes.) Slow...good...Mary likes slow...snail pace slow...excellent. I want to be friends first then work on the whole relationship thing. Sounds like a great plan. He drives me to my car parked at the train station. And attempts to maul me.

What the hell happened to slow??!!?!?
He apologizes.
I get in my car and drive away.

On Sunday, I get an email telling me that he has thought of me continually since Friday. He can't wait to see me again. Call as soon as I get this email. Even if we can only spend an hour together it would be great. Tempted to log on to dictionary.com to make sure I understand the meaning of slow...because his meaning is WAY different than mine, I email back stating I'm flattered, but gently remind him that we were moving slow. He calls to apologize for mauling me and for rushing the relationship. He suggests I call him sometime - on my terms - and we will go out. I do just as he suggests. I call a few days later, got his voicemail, left a message suggesting we go out and never hear from him again.

Yep. That went well.

I took the holidays off, but once January hit, I was back on track; seeing who I'd meet. I'd wink. Email. Respond. They all lead down dead end roads. Until I met Jim. His pictures were a little quirky, but they were definitely creative. His profile stated that he recently moved back to Chicago after being away for 15 years. He was looking for someone to reacquaint him with the city. It also stated he is a photographer which explained some of the interesting shots. I made the bold move and emailed him. Which once again proved that I should never trust my instincts.

His return email was a poem stating that I inspired him. Not sure how my short note could be inspiration, but being a muse always boosts ones ego. We emailed back and forth, yet his emails were always in poem form. Little did I know what that foreshadowed. We exchange phone numbers as I planned to be in his area the following week. When he called I realized that not only does he write letters as poems, he only speaks in rhyme...and in the third person. At first, I was intrigued. He made rhyming and third person conversation appear so easy. In less than 5 minutes, I was irritated. Jim also had an alter-ego named Mr. Positive who recited daily affirmations. Between the rhyming, third person and alter ego, I was praying the conversation would end soon. We had two phone conversations. Both were surreal at best.

My kids have a knack for interrupting the most important of phone calls with the least important crisis. Once while discussing a real estate deal with a client, Adam complained that there weren't any pizza rolls left in the freezer and wondered why I didn't hop into our car and careen off to Jewel to pick up more for his hungry little belly. Although both Kat and Adam are accustomed to my withering stares during these incidents, I too have become accustom to their popping into a room while I'm on the phone.

When they were younger and they attempted to interrupt a phone conversation I'd launch into the 1, 2, 3 checklist. They knew the first finger held up meant, "Is somebody bleeding, or is a major appendage broken?". Two fingers meant, "Is the house on fire?" Three fingers meant, "Is someone dead?" If they answered "No" to all three questions, whatever crisis they were experiencing better wait until I was off the phone. Do you think that during either of surreal phone conversations they interrupted with crisis du jour?! No! This is the first time in their short little lives they chose to respect my privacy. I'd have happily faked a house fire, broken leg, or immediate purchase of pizza rolls!

Next!!
(Be careful what you wish for.)

Soon I received an email from Fred who is a governmental consultant in Iraq. He was coming home in April, saw my profile and was interested in getting to know me. His message stated that if we hit it off maybe we could go out to dinner when he got home. I read his profile, but did not respond immediately. Although intrigued by his profession, he mentioned wanting to meet someone who could pick up at a moments notice and travel. That is SO not my life! I decided to write anyway, but before I could put fingers to keyboard I received a slap across the face...all the way from Iraq. I was internationally picked up and dumped before I could even respond.

Fred's second note stated he noticed that I checked out his profile, that I seemed pretty, but my profile wasn't anything special. He compared our salaries and stated that I obviously wanted to be taken care of, but wondered why he would he want to take care of a 46 year old single mother, when he could have a 26 or 36 year old woman. Then wished me luck in my search. OUCH!!!

Fred made me crabby! I sent Fred a note back thanking him for showing me his true colors before I wasted any more time and suggested if he needs the merits of a more experienced woman spelled out over a 26 year old girl we truly had nothing to discuss.

This is just ridiculous!!

Then I met Steve. Steve is quiet. Sweet. A vegetarian Buddhist(?)/Hindu(?) high school teacher who is currently on a cleansing fast. I tend to be hyper at times, so a serene person sounded like a very good thing to me. His voice was soft, controlled and his words were carefully thought out. Someone who could ground me when I move into warp-speed. Steve and I chatted for quite a while. When we finally figure out the logistics of meeting, Steve drops a bomb on me. This is one I never saw coming. Neither will you.

Steve told me that he joined a tantric sex club. Yes, you read that right. This time I used dictionary.com to make sure I understood the meaning of tantric sex, "a Hindu philosophy combining spiritual and indulgent sexual practices". Yep, except for the Hindu part, I was pretty spot on that definition. In this club he is partnered with two women and they help each other "heal". Clothed or unclothed. They assist each others' every need as they "heal." Clothed or unclothed. His concerns were whether he could hold a monogamous relationship if he entered into these sessions unclothed. Ever the PR rep and being as diplomatic as humanly possible, I ask for the website (which I have since forgotten...sorry folks) to do my own research before destroying his phone number. Rather than just falling off the face of the earth, I called to say that I couldn't meet him - but wasn't honest enough to tell him that it was due to his club. I chickened out. Ever diplomatic. Ever the wimp.

Honestly, you can't make this stuff up!
Please note, the above names have been changed to protect the truly wacky.

Around the same time frame I start chatting with two men. One fairly distant, and one local. David - the fairly distant one, is from Georgia. He is charming, funny and has two teenage daughters. The local guy, Mitch, has just been accepted to grad school, divorced with a young son. I "met" them both within days of each other. It was the weekend where I successfully juggled waaaayyy too many activities in one day. A talent that I have almost honed into an art form.

That Saturday, Kat was going to her turn-about dance and Adam to a birthday party. In the morning I worked at the real estate office for a couple of hours. Mom dropped Kat off at the office so I could take her out for a manicure. After that we picked up her friend, Marina; bringing her back to our house. Alex, who's father rescued me and my dead car back in November, came by to do their hair for the dance. While she made them gorgeous, I watched Alex's 22 month old daughter, Ryan. Quickly remembering that 22 month old toddlers have the energy equal to a nuclear blast and an unquenchable curiosity. She is one busy little girl!

Once Marina was gorgeous, I drove her to a friend's house for group photos and dropped Adam off at the birthday party. Only to get home, say good-bye to Alex and her mini nuclear reactor, help Kat get dressed, take pictures and drive her to the dance since her boyfriend had to work that night. Come home make a quick dinner. Whew! Relax for a few minutes until Adam arrived home from the party. He and I chatted for a while until I left to pick Kat up from the dance. Her boyfriend stoped by from work with a custom made pizza from his job. (I like this kid!) Then a few more of Kat's friends arrive on our door step. My day started at 7AM and ended at 1AM. These are typical days for me when the kids are home. Occasionally an open house, or house showing is thrown into the mix - not to mention errands, grocery shopping, etc., etc., etc.

I've always joked that I would never date anyone out of state since I don't have time to date anyone within my own zip code...but maybe that's the whole problem. If I dated someone at a distance, I would know to take a weekend here or there to be with that person. So, that night, with that thought in mind, while a variety of high school kids and Adam were sitting at my kitchen table, I expanded my search. And I "met" David. I don't even know what I entered into my search, but there he was. His profile simultaneously touched my heart and made me laugh. Parts of it were beautiful, other parts hysterical. Although very far away, I knew he was someone that I would want as a friend. He is now someone who I hope is going to stay a friend...albeit a very long distance friend.

David answered my initial letter and told me up front he was dating someone. Normally, I'd just say thanks for the note and wish him the best, but instead I told him if they ever came up to Chicago, I'd happily be their tour guide, or give them some "non-touristy" places to visit. From there we built a friendship. His emails have made me full out belly laugh more than once. He occasionally becomes my dating cheerleader with an email question of "Soooooooooo...how's Match goin'?" Generally not well.

It's sad that the best rapport and conversations are with a man 11 hours away...who is dating someone. Once again proof that God has a wacky, warped and sick sense of humor!!! But I like my new friend and hope that one day he and his family will trek up north. I'd like to meet them.

That same evening I chatted with Mitch; exchanging phone numbers, he mentioned that he preferred to write vs. call. He thought it would be more romantic. He marveled at my busy schedule and asked if we could meet the following week - which was Kat and Adam's spring break. A few weeks prior I had injured my back. It has yet to heal properly and at the time I was busy coordinating an MRI, as well as jumping from doctor appointments to chiropractor appointments and coordinating a visit of one of Kat's friends from our old neighborhood. I explained that once I knew those logistics, I'd let him know when I was available. After looking at my calendar, I suggested Tuesday. He suggested Monday. I had an appointment that day. So I suggested Wednesday. I didn't hear from him. When I wrote again, I received an email stating that my schedule is extremely frustrating and disappointing. I KNOW!!! Babe, you are preaching to the choir! I wrote him back; apologizing for not making the time to meet him. I'll never hear from him again.

That is when the realization hit me that many non-custodial parents haven't a clue as to what life is like for the custodial parent. Kat and Adam are with me 12 out of 14 days. When they are at their dad's they are not even gone a full 48 hours and my Friday evening every other week is spent driving 1 hour north to his house and driving 1 hour home. Their dad is not faced with coordinating who needs to be where and at what time. It will ease up when Kat starts driving, but until then my life is very full - bursting at the seams full. Between working full time, a part-time real estate career, side projects and attempting to be a present parent to my children, my time is limited. Throw in an unscheduled MRI and doctor visits and the whole mix is off kilter. Is it an excuse so I don't have to get close to someone? Or is it a fact of life for me right now? I don't know the answer. How do I fit it all in? If the right guy came along would I know? I hope so. I've juggled it all before because I wanted to be with someone. Hopefully, I'd do it again.

My dating life was turning into a sieve with more men leaving than arriving. The eternal optimist keeps saying, "All you need is one."

Continually giving "the good ol' college try", I found a profile of a man who lives in the next town. He is an architect. A widower with 3 small children. His profile could have been written by me. I sent him a note. He wrote back stating the same thing. It was uncanny how similar our profiles were. Unfortunately, he felt zero chemistry towards me (which I read as, "You are not cute") and wished me well. Yep...God...wacky, wacky sense of humor!

After that, Kat announced she is glamming me up and taking new pictures of me. She says I'm beautiful. But then reminded me to make an eye doctor appointment because she needs glasses. My life is filled with irony.

So my on-line subscription expires in a couple of days. The masochist in me is very curious as to what else can befall my attempts at love and romance in the on-line dating world. The optimist wants to believe that there can't be any more like Jim, Fred and Steve. The realist is beginning to wonder if I am just an actor in God's universal sitcom.

On-Line Dating

On-line dating in a 3 ring circus.

As one of the masses in the ever growing breed of single parents, it appears that I am way too busy to meet people and find the time to date. As an example, I work full time, am attempting a part time career in real estate in an abysmal market, plus try to be around for the kids and occasional house hold chores. Martha Stewart would be very ashamed of my house. A friend at work told me that he thought I needed a wife. I'd really prefer a sugar daddy!

I once read an article about places to meet men besides the bar scene. Some suggestions included your children’s school, a home improvement or grocery store and volunteer efforts. Speaking from the trenches let me dispel the rumors to these myths.

The idea of meeting a single, interesting guy at a PTO meeting, or at any school function only happens in sitcoms and contrived romance novels. From my experiences, stay at home moms are generally the only ones attending PTO meetings since these meetings are inconveniently scheduled during the day or immediately after school. As for school functions…please! If you are volunteering at a school fundraiser, you are so busy organizing games, taking tickets, corralling kids, or giving out prizes that you can’t even think about what intriguing person is around and if they are single, interesting, or interested.

As for house projects, the times that I have been working on home improvement projects, do you realistically think I’m going to walk into Home Depot with make-up freshly applied? NO!! If I am working on the house, my hair is pulled back in a pony tail, I’m in a grungy t-shirt or sweatshirt and am on a mission to find what I need and to get back to the project. The whole time I am praying I don't make a fool out of myself as my knowledge of home improvement projects is extremely low and my vocabulary of materials necessary for said home improvement projects is non-existent. Example: a molly to me is not a plastic doohickey placed in a wall to secure a towel rod. To me, Molly is an American Girl Doll. That said, picture me in grungy clothes - possibly showered - possibly not - hair up in a pony, sans make-up, trying to sound intelligent about widgets and whatsits necessary to fix whatever is falling apart at the house. There isn't a guy on this earth that would find me attractive while I'm trying to comprehend/translate the foreign language the Home Depot employee is speaking. This summer while redecorating my bathroom, I had white and lavender paint in my hair and on my hands for weeks. This was not the time for me to meet anyone unless they had a paint fetish and I am unsure that I want to date someone with a paint fetish.

Lately, the grocery store could possibly be an option. The men that I have met all love to cook. I could probably get (and probably could use) a few pointers. Lately, though, when I am shopping I am flying through the store doing my best impersonation of Flash Gordon. How fast can I get in and out the door? I do a lot of volunteer work, but have yet to meet any single men, or even married men for that matter. It seems as if I always meet women.

So, now that I have dispelled the rumors of where you can meet men, I have attempted to once again on-line date. Back in February I vowed never to attempt it again. In hindsight, never is a pretty strong term and, well, I would really like to meet someone to share my life. My attitude now with on-line dating is that if I meet someone, great. If I don't, it is a source of entertainment and amusement. I've been single for a very long time, yet I know what I want and refuse to accept anything less.

My first foray into on-line dating was January 1, 2007. Here was a brand new year full of possibilities, so why not? I met Mark that day. We met through a local dating site created by a Chicago woman. We both tried it out because it was free. We chatted for a couple of weeks, had many similarities, hit it off, but neither of us were ready to date. Mark for his own reasons. For me, I realized I never allowed myself to heal a long time ago. During my marriage, I shut myself down emotionally and 9 years later couldn't quite figure out how to be the "me" I am with my close friends or when I am hiding behind my keyboard. Basically, one-on-one I was rather stunted. I tried chalking it up to really great guy...really bad timing for both of us, but the fact that I felt as if I was 2 different people bothered me immensely.

There was the confident, witty, charming "me" that Mark met on-line. Then there was this other "in- person me" who was nervous and petrified. When I was married, I was constantly criticized, and therefore extremely insecure. Now, 9 years later, I found those old insecurities emerging again when they were supposed to be banished years ago. Old demons are extremely difficult to exorcise. They must require industrial strength holy water.

Although the relationship was very brief (ya think?), it was a catalyst of self discovery for me. By meeting Mark, I realized how much of an emotional nutball I truly was. There will always be some nuttiness to my personality. That's part of my charm and quirkiness which I completely embrace. Thankfully, though, I am a million times more emotionally stable than I was at the beginning of the year. Believe me, one could only go up from where I was.

So, with laptop in hand, I decided to give it one more try. I signed up with two sites and now that I know which one I like best, I am trying to figure out how to cancel the other. It sure is easy to sign up, but dang...trying to cancel requires an act of God.

I initially tried eHarmony, but realized I am way to shallow and time crunched for this site. Technically, if you are to participate in eHarmony correctly, you read each lengthy profile and decide if they are for you. In a perfect world, it is the perfect way to go about this, but in a time crunched life where you are just sitting down at the computer at 10:30PM the last thing I want to do is read lengthy profiles that may determine my fate. I neither have the time, nor the inclination to go through all of that work when I am bleary eyed from the day. I also realized that I'd be flipping through the bios and only reading the bios of the cute guys. Thankfully, they have a 7 day trial policy. So on the 7th day, I called to cancel. The customer service agent did her best schpeil on me; trying to convince me not to cancel. So finally when she asked what the main reason was for my cancellation I explained that I am too busy and way too shallow. She was speechless...but cancelled my subscription.

The two sites that I am now on are national sites - in fact one is an international site - someone emailed me from London. You meet a variety of people and would be amazed by some of the bios and emails. I honestly cannot take anyone seriously who starts out a letter to me with, “What’s up Sugar Buns?!” Or the guys from TX, FL, NC, HI or London who want to date. Really, I can barely schedule time to date someone within 30 miles of my zip code, so it's insanity to even think about dating someone across the country…or either ocean for that matter. Rarely do I respond to the out of state ones. With my luck, I'd fall for the guy in North Carolina which would require a long distance thing I don’t want to deal with. Besides, a judge once informed me that I could move to any state of my choice, but my "minor children shall reside in the same state in which their father resides until they are 18." So, unless Mr. TX, FL, NC, or HI want to move to Chicago, we don't have much of a future for the next 6 years. Although a trip to HI might just be what the doctor ordered. I DEFINITELY did not respond to the “Sugar Buns” guy.

There are also men (and I am sure women as well) who only want "an immediate intimate/physical relationship" (yes, that was actually taken from an email). Wow...I don't want to know how many women on-line have taken him up on that request. Ewww!!! Sorry, Babe! We're not even meeting for coffee unless you have a notarized medical report dated today that states you are disease free. I'm not a prude, but I'm not stupid either!

I am also learning that some things never change. The guys that I would love to ask me out, never do. One guy was very interesting. He taught at a prestigious local university and had been published. He gave enough information in his profile that I was able to google him to determine his validity. What he stated appeared to be true. He was an all around intriguing would love to spend the rest of my life with him, or at least meet him for coffee, kind of guy. Our profiles are very similar and so I emailed him. Just a brief note (strategically leaving out the wanting to spend the rest of my life with him part), but mentioned baseball and a few things we do have in common. NOTHING…not even a sorry, your not my type, or I only date blonds response. Just nothing. Crap! I felt as if I was back to high school all over again…liking the unattainable guy.

The kids are actually having fun with the idea of me dating. They are both old enough now and would like me to start dating. My guess is they think if I am occupied, they don’t have to check in as much. Little do they realize I am a master at multi-tasking. A few weeks ago I actually had a date (and hell hadn't even frozen over!). It was the same night as Kat's homecoming. So while I was dropping her off, Kat informed me that she would call after the dance. If I was having a great time, she would find another ride home. If I was having a bad time, she would ask me to pick her up. Nothing like having your 14 year old watch your back! Thanks Baby! He was walking me to my car when she called, so I picked her up…and never heard from him again. Which was OK by me. Nice guy, but absolutely no spark.

I've been skewered by well meaning relatives and friends because I am looking for a spark. Is that so wrong? I want my heart to flutter, my stomach to have butterflies and to feel that spark...not the burning of Atlanta (yet)...just a spark. "Give it time. A spark could appear. Don't discount someone so quickly." Granted, my instincts have never been spot on when it comes to relationships, but I need to feel something. Anything. Whoever I meet, I plan to proceed with caution. Jumping to the finish line, has disaster written all over it. But whoever this elusive man is, he needs to be intelligent, kind, honest, funny, creative and who makes my stomach do somersaults when he calls, emails, or when I just think of him. I want to be twitterpated. On top of all of that we need to feel a mutual spark. Maybe I live in a dream world. Maybe I've watched too many romantic comedies. I don't care. That is what I am looking for. I know that spark exists. Although a rare feeling, I felt it back in January. It is attainable. I want that feeling and won't settle for something less.

The kids are also fun to goof around with regarding dating. At dinner the other day, there was a lull in the conversation and I felt like instigating a bit. It was after I emailed the university/published guy who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, or at least meet for coffee, but before I realized there would be absolutely no response, I told the kids that I met their future step-dad. I mentioned it as Adam had his fork to his lips and he almost choked on his dinner. It’s always good to keep the kids on their toes. Jeez, they do it to me enough…I might as well reciprocate! I later told Adam it was payback for the time when he was 7. He had heard the words humping and french-kissing on the playground and asked me their meaning just as I placed a fork full of rice in my mouth. I think I aspirated rice at that question and nearly choked to death! Anyway, this time around the look on Adam’s face was priceless. I then explained that I emailed a guy, but had not heard back from him. They think their mom is a bit weird. That's fine. They're a little weird themselves. It's genetic.

Adam would actually love to have another male around, so he is all for his mom dating as long as my dates are interesting, artistic in some way and fun. Works for me. At least he's not walking around with a picture of me in his backpack like Kat did when she was six. She would walk up to men with picture in hand and say, "Want to meet my mom?"

There are perils to Internet dating though. I actually ended up with my own on-line stalker. He kept emailing me through the site telling me he wanted to be my "forever friend", sending me emails telling me how beautiful I was (so he also obviously needs glasses) and giving me his phone number. Thankfully, they do protect your information. After 6 emails in 48 hours, I contacted the site and filed a complaint. I also, blocked him from viewing and contacting me. I realize he may just be a very lonely man and could be harmless, BUT it can be a bit unnerving. So, you have to be careful how much information you put out there. Heck, I was able to google the published guy just by the info in his bio. As in any other circumstance, you never know who you are going to meet. It can be scary.

So...this foray into Internet dating, or just dating in general, will be interesting. I can log on at my leisure, test the waters and learn about myself at the same time all the while staying away from those that start out with "What's up Sugar Buns!" yet looking for that intangible spark.

Dating in a 3-ring Circus

In the 9 years since my divorce, I can honestly say that I have only been on a handful of dates...7 to be exact. Yeah, you read that right, 7 (seven). That doesn't even average out to one a year. And 4 of them have been in 2007. A banner year if you ask me.

Even in my teens and twenties I didn't date much. It always seemed that my romantic relationships evolved from friendships. I would be really good friends with someone and we took the relationship to the next level. Oddly, I've stayed friends with each and every one of these men. Even odder, the only man that I ever actually "dated" (until now) was my ex-husband and, well, we know how that turned out. Although we too keep in contact, if the kids weren't involved, we would have gone our separate ways never looking back.

So, dating has never been my strong suit. But now, I am a month away from my 46th birthday and I realize that if I ever want to share my life with a man, I'm going to have to change my ways and learn how to date.

The sad fact is that both of my children have better social lives than their mom...and Adam isn't even allowed to date yet. Kat has always had a posse of boys flocking around the house. It's not that the boys all had crushes on her. Kat just easily gets along with boys better than girls. Kat, being the anti-girl girl, was never into pink, never understood girl drama, hated dresses and for a brief time if she wore make-up it was thick black eyeliner, black lipstick and nail polish. Thankfully, the black lipstick was short lived and the black eyeliner thinned out. But the black nail polish is still her polish of choice. What I'm trying to say is that she never paid attention to the typical female thinking. She dressed the way she wanted. Looked the way she wanted and during junior high we had, on any given day, at least 8-10 boys in our basement...Kat's boys.

Can you believe that I've actually gone to my daughter about dating advice? I haven't a clue as to what men think. How men think? And sometimes IF men actually think. Although I am completely missing that ability, Kat understands men better than anyone I know. She can't spell to save her soul, but when it comes to the opposite sex, Kat, although not quite 15, is quite sage. Besides, who needs to know how to spell when there is spell check? But understanding men will help her in the long run - whether its with her brother, father, uncles, cousins, business or romantic relationships. Understanding men is important and a skill I seriously lack.

Although having a teenage dating sensai is great, dating while having children and parent underfoot always lends itself to be a little more interesting. Three summers ago, a friend decided to set me up on a blind date. The guy, Paul, was a Chicago cop. We talked on the phone a few times, seemed to get along well, so he asked me out to dinner. He specified casual. Fine with me. We decided to go to Palmers, a local restaurant known for burgers and beer.

Kat and Adam both knew that I was going on a date. It was a perfect summer evening - not too hot, nor humid - and since we were the "it" house that summer, every tween within a mile radius was hanging out in our yard. I pulled into the driveway to find it resembling a bike shop. There were probably 8-10 bikes in the driveway which meant there were a minimum of 10 kids (not including mine), plus a few stragglers that walked everywhere. GREAT!!! Nothing like getting ready with a million children underfoot.

So, I ran downstairs to find about 16 kids in my basement. Said hi to everyone and ran upstairs to get ready. Kat and Adam knew Paul was arriving around 7, so at 6:30 they all ran into our front yard. Since we are on a cul de sac of sorts there is a large area where they can play without being in traffic. So, there were kids throwing Frisbees, some playing catch, others hoola hooping and still more jumping on our trampoline in the back yard. I was informed they were all outside to give me a thumbs up, or down, when Paul arrived. How nosy (sorry...I mean...sweet) of them. I was nervous to begin with and hadn't been on a date in over 3 years. Suddenly my front lawn looked like the local orphanage.

That summer the group Fountains of Wayne had a song called, "Stacey's Mom" about a mom that was so hot all the boys in the area would mow any lawn, paint any fence, just to get her attention. It's rare for me to ever consider myself hot. Call it low self esteem, realistic, or just not part of my thought process. Whatever you want to call it, when you haven't been on a date in years, it is hard to consider yourself hot, or sexy. Nervous, yes. Excited, probably. Wanting to throw up...definitely. Sexy, probably not. But after I got dressed - definitely casual in khaki and sandals - I went outside to see if the kids could at least be less chaotic (fat chance). The "orphans" did serenade me with their version of "Kat's mom's got it really going on". They were sweet...even cute...but secretly, I wanted them all to disappear and they weren't going anywhere. Not much happens in this little town and my date was the biggest news to these kids. We really need to upgrade their standards and my social aspirations.

So, Paul pulls up in his Jeep; avoiding bikes and softball players. Kat's friend Ashley flew in the front door to give me a thumbs up and then ran back outside. After saying hi, I inform him that only two are mine. The rest are "visiting". We get in his jeep where he expertly dodges 4 different kids while backing out of the driveway. Yes, I was mortified.

We go out for burgers and beer. Perfectly casual, although he informs me that I am way overdressed. He's in khaki shorts, a polo and flip flops. I wasn't dressed much better, but that comment was a hint of the evening to come. Dinner was a disaster. As liberal as I am, he is conservative. Paul hates "everyone equally". I believe in giving everyone a chance. To him people are guilty until proven innocent. So that's how our justice system works? I always wondered. He hates gays. I have many friends who are gay. There is not one area on which we agreed. After many years in public relations I have the ability to chat with the best of them and have superficial down to perfection, but this evening it took all I had not to dump my beer on his cynical little head and walk the 3 miles home. When dinner was over, there was no pretense of lets go for a walk or let's have another beer. He paid the check, walked me to his Jeep and drove me home.

This is where the evening continues to slide the slippery slope towards devastation. It is now dark as we pull into my driveway where the majority of bikes have cleared out. There are just a few stragglers scattered on the lawn. Every light in the house is out, but there are candles lit in the living room. Our front window has 20 small panes of glass making 20 little shelves. Yes...there was a candle lit on every little shelf and additional candles scattered throughout the living room. Damn my candle addiction! With the right guy it would have looked amazing. With this guy, I wanted to die. Kat, Adam and the left over "orphans" decided to add a little ambiance to our "romantic" date. This man was in no mood for romance. He couldn't get rid of me fast enough. Finally! It was the one subject on which we both agreed. As he walked me to the door, I looked at him and said, "Welcome to my world." He said good night, turned around and left. Never to be seen again.

Little did I know that there were 8 heads peering out the windows. Kat and her friend Cory were fighting over who could look out the peephole of the front door. When I walked in the house the one question they all demanded was how come he didn't kiss me goodnight. Which lead me to the lecture of kissing and dating etiquette. (Like I really knew dating etiquette - it was my first flippin' date in 3 years!)

The friend that set us up called a few days later. It appears that Paul didn't have a problem with my kids or the craziness of my household. His one complaint was that she didn't tell him I was a %$#$ liberal!

That evening cured me of dating for about another year. The following June I went out on my next date with someone who went to my high school and graduated a year before me. We had mutual friends who thought we met somewhere during our high school years. If we did, neither of us made a decent impression as we didn't remember each other. We re-met(?) at Jane's birthday/Cinco de Mayo party. I'm a sucker for a guy who can make me laugh. I asked him out.

The weekend of the date, the kids went with their father to Northern Wisconsin for a week and my mom left for Kentucky to visit friends. The house was all mine for 5 whole days. I had plans set up for every night - my date, dinner with a friend from college, the opportunity to be in a friends music video which was being filmed in a biker bar, and just relaxing without having to account to anyone about anything. I could run through the house naked if I so desired. The possibilities were endless.

So, while getting ready for my date, I received a phone call from our friends in Kentucky. Donna informed me that my mom passed out upon arriving and an ambulance took her to the local hospital. Donna promised to keep me posted. I gave her my cell number and told her to call when she knew more. As I was walking to the bar, Tracey, the nurse at this itty-bitty hospital in London, KY, which I later realized wasn't qualified to give out band aids, called to ask me a variety of questions about my mom. Tracey questions scared me. I knew this was all very serious. Here I was hundreds of miles away; unable to do anything. So, I plunked myself down in the middle of the side walk and gave Tracey doctors' phone numbers, health information and any other information I could pull from my brain; mentally telling myself that I need to be a bit more aware of the medication my mom took. The doctor's weren't sure if my mom had a stroke, or needed a pace maker...yeah...not only was the hospital not qualified to give out band aids, I'm not sure if they were qualified to take a temperature. Anyway, Tracey said they could not tell if my mom had a stroke until they looked at her "skin". After a while, I finally asked Tracey what my mom's skin had to do with knowing whether she had a stroke. I don't have a medical degree, but checking her skin seemed very odd. That's when I realized we were experiencing a bit of a language barrier. Because of Tracey's southern drawl, I realized she had been saying "scan" as in CT scan. Oops. Sorry! OK, well once the doctor reads her "skin" please call me.

I then proceeded to call both of my brothers. Reached one, left a message for the other. I then walked in the bar...very late...for a date. I explained what happened and told him that my cell phone needed to hang out with us all evening. Anytime it rang with a Kentucky area code, or my brothers' phone numbers, I left the noisy bar to get, or give, information; each time hoping Tracey could tell me what Mom's skin said.

What a sweet guy! In between phone calls he'd ask for updates and then we proceeded to chat about anything else to keep my mind off of my mom...until the next phone call. He understood that there wasn't much I could do. I even suggested I could go home and wait for the calls, but honestly, it was nice to have some company while waiting for Tracey's next call. He even offered to help me find flights to Kentucky. Unfortunately, that was the last I've seen of him except for bumping into him at Jane's. Can you blame him?! In fairness, when we met, he was already in the process of moving to Michigan, but it's easy to blame the events of that night on no follow up calls. As of now, I believe he splits his life between Michigan and here. Rumor has it that he prefers women 20 years younger. Although I have been told I look younger than my 45 years and have been carded twice this year - a nice ego boost - even if the people who carded me had to have been legally blind - I don't look that young. And so I moved on.

As for Mom, I flew down for a rescue mission and one brother followed a day later. The skin(scan) showed she had a stroke and the events of our rescue mission will be saved for another writing.

But on to the perils of dating. The first date, although doomed before it began, the kids made me feel as if I was living in a TV sitcom. The second date, Mom unknowingly sabotaged, but he was moving and I wasn't in his preferred age range. And for the next guy (victim?), I didn't need any help messing things up. I did that completely on my own and quite successfully, I might add. Needing to be fair to myself, it was a mutual messing up as we both had "stuff" to deal with, but this one is still a bit too raw to write about. Not because of any one thing that happened, but due to the fact that after meeting Mark I realized there are some issues that were never dealt with after my divorce. I never let myself heal 9 years ago. And because of that, life blew up in my face in 2007.

There is a phrase I used after my divorce called the Cleopatra Syndrome - Queen of Denial. Yeah...I know...it's a really bad pun, but it fits. It was easier to ignore all that happened, immerse myself into being a single parent with 2 extremely young children than deal with the negative in my life. I ignored as much as I could because if I paid attention to what really happened in my marriage the pain would be too great. How do you care for two small children while grieving and hurting? Denial was easier. Maybe at the time it was self preservation. I'm not sure. I just know I focused on loving and raising Kat and Adam to the best of my abilities. It was more important to me that they knew they were loved and protected at all costs. Now that they are older its time to work on me - a definite work in progress. But, aren't we all?

It wasn't until I met Mark that I realized I was pretty much an emotional train wreck. It must have taken to actually have feelings for someone to figure out how scarred and scared I am. He accounts for the majority of my dates this year. As fleeting as the relationship was, I miss him and think of him often. He touched a part of my heart that hadn't been touched in a very long time. I actually thought that part of my heart was dead and buried. He made me realize it wasn't. It's a nice fact to know. I have yet to watch a Bears game, or see a picnic basket, without thinking of him. They are all good thoughts.

But...now I need to heal (ugh!). In hindsight, I wish I would have taken the time to heal a few years ago, but don't think I was ready then. I would love to share my life with a man and look forward to that actually happening one day, but before I do, there is more healing to do and probably another act or two in my 3-ring circus.