Fast Track, Part 2

Hey, I’m just as surprised as you are that there is a part 2 to this.   The recap of my date from last night will have to wait while I continue to overthink the offhanded comment made by my friend and proceed to write another annoyingly introspective post that isn’t in the least bit interesting or entertaining.  You’ve been warned.

For those of you that actually have a life and have not been with me since the beginning of this, what I hoped would be, short lived blog over the past 7 years (that honestly just hurt me to type that), here’s a quick recap of all things Grey Goose.

I was bullied as a kid (and I do NOT take that term lightly).  Up until junior year of high school I would cry almost daily.  I was the world’s biggest nerd in high school.  I sort of came into my own in college and had THE BEST TIME of my life.   I decided to tell everyone that made fun of me in the past to, quite literally, fuck off.  I was fun and flirty and skinny and pretty and snarky and had a bazillion friends and ‘friends’.  I never worried about guys.  I lived my life like a guy.  I was the love them and leave them one.  I never obsessed.  I never fixated.  Then I grew up.  Damn.

I’ve had several long term relationships in my life.  Most of them were not, upon looking back, good ones.  They all chipped away at ‘me’ and I allowed it.  Somewhere along the way I began to believe what they told me instead of what I knew to be true. Boo.

It hasn’t been since my 20s that I have met and dated men ‘organically’.  It’s been a very long time since a handsome man sidled up next to me at a bar, or on the street and struck up a conversation.  Okay, well, to be honest, I’ve been told that men were hitting on me but for some unknown reason, I am incapable of picking up on clues.  I honestly have no idea how many terrific, or not so terrific, men I could have gotten to know if I’d only paid attention.

I have never been called ‘cute’.  I have been called beautiful.  I always wanted to be cute, damn it.  It’s not about looks.  I’ve been skinny.  I’ve had a killer body.  I’ve been fat.  I’ve been in between.  It’s not about weight.  I have a quirky style of dress.  Fun, funky, flirty and age appropriate.  It’s not about that.  I have a pretty good personality.  I’m still fun and funny, smart and good hearted.  I sometimes forget this part.

I have been self employed for more than 20 years.  There was no office in which to meet and mingle.  So weird.  Online dating is a bit of a ‘necessary evil’ I feel.  I don’t hang out in bars anymore.  I don’t frequent singles events.  I don’t hang out in the frozen food section of my local grocery store waiting to shove my shopping cart into that of a handsome stranger.  This is how I know to meet people.

I look around and see all types of people from all walks of life coupled up.  At times I let this sadden me but, by and large, I use it as an example that there is truly someone for everyone.  I honestly believe that.  I just don’t know how to go about meeting mine.  Now, before anyone opts to blurt out that amazingly infuriating ‘you’ll meet him when you’re not looking’, I think that is a huge load of bullshit and I think it’s a f*ing smug thing to say.  I do go about my life.  I do take chances.  I do things that I like without the thought of ‘I hope I meet a guy doing this’.

My date last night asked me, after listening to me tell him about where I am in life and what my plans are for the future, ‘well, where does a man fit into all of this’ and for the life of me I couldn’t answer.  No one has ever asked me this before.  I guess I always assumed that when I met the right man, things would just ‘fit’.  Fast track or not, I’m apparently as confused as ever …………. super

 

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