Posts Tagged ‘checking out’

That Didn’t Last Long

February 9, 2015

Tinder me no Tinder.

This thing sucks ass.

Not for me.

Less than twenty-four hours of using the app and I am burnt out on it.

I have not been obsessively using it, I just don’t care for it.

It manages to suck me right into my phone, which no way man, not on my day off, I have things to do, books to read, walks to take, women to sit with in my kitchen and be present for.

I have food to cook and things to write.

And I just don’t like it.

Partially because it just seems so patently surface.

“I don’t like it,” I told him today on the phone, “I want it off my phone, but I haven’t figured out how to get rid of it yet.”

I have turned off the notifications and I haven’t used it in a few hours and I am going to get it off my phone.

Online dating seems one thing, this random roulette of photographs and profiles apparently works for someone out there, I know lots of folks are using it, but it turns out, not really news to me, I am a little more old-fashioned.

But not too old-fashioned.

I managed to knock another one off my list of ten.

And I replaced one of the guys on the list with a more viable option, if I suspected I was not going to want to go out with the gentleman from last night because he’s a heavy smoker, he should never have gone onto the list.

It was a cheat so I could cross it off without having to do the actual work.

And it is work, let me tell you, asking someone out without hiding behind the screen of my phone, rather actually using my phone.

Not sending a text.

But actually calling a live human being.

Who’s voicemail, of course, I got.

And I flubbed it so bad.

Oh my god.

It’s funny, it was funny when I was doing it, it was the most artless, graceless, idiotic, could be made into a bad dating comedy movie script, of an ask.

In fact.


I called him an asshole.

I meant, I am the asshole, because I can’t quite cleanly articulate what I am saying.


I haven’t gotten a response.

Oh lordy.

But you know, I tried.

And he’s actually a friend, someone I have known for years and off again, on again, wondered about whether we might have some chemistry–it seems we do, but sometimes that’s hard to tell.

My picker appears broken, so I could be wrong.

He also has a sense of humor, so I’m sure he will actually find it funny that I called him an asshole.  I also said I was practicing and in the spirit of taking suggestions I was asking him out to coffee, not as friends, but to see if there was a click there.

Then I laughed maniacally.


So much fun.

I have decided that I am going to let the OkStupid profile stand, although I am not a huge fan of it, I prefer it leaps and bounds over Tinder.

And I am going to continue to knock of the names on the list.

One by one.

Each day.

That is my goal anyway, one name a day.

One phone call or one message.

Of the ten on the list the guy I called today is the only one who I actually have a phone number for.

The other guys I’m going to have to message on Facebook or ask out in person.

One of them I will see tomorrow and I have been trying for the last couple of weeks to get up the gumption, but I believe I was still clearing out all the stuff from my previous relationship and I was stymied whenever I got close to saying anything.

But I am sick of the fantasy.

I am a dreamer, but I want reality.

I’m going to kill the fantasy with the guy I usually see on Mondays.

I don’t think there’s interest on his part, but I have to get it, him out of my head and out-of-the-way.

I am not obsessively thinking about him, but he’s there and every Monday for a little while now, I have thought, I really should ask him out for a cup of coffee.

He’s not on a Facecrack as far as I can tell.

Two of his close mutual friends are and I have done enough Facecrack stalking to ascertain that he probably does not have an account.

This is a good thing.

That is one thing on my ideals list, someone who can be present for me and I for them and not interfacing via social media.

It’s too one-sided.

I want to be with someone who wants to be with me, not my profile picture.


That’s the plan.

Ask one guy out a day.

Get dates set up.

One a week, just like I was trying to do before I got into the relationship with my ex.

It worked then.

And as I have learned so much about myself and dating and romantic relationships and breakups and being human through that experience, I can only have faith that it has made me a better woman to date.

I have grown toward my ideal.

Beyond grateful for that.

I have so much more clarity around what I want it is refreshing and I know that God will do for me what I cannot do for myself, that God’s plan is so much better than my plan.

I mean really.

It is.

I don’t want to be alone, though I isolate at the drop of hat, so I’m fellowshipping and seeing ladies.

I got a ticket to Basement Jaxx to dance, I’m not going to wait for someone to take me.

Although not a single person I know is now going.

Which is ok.

I can still go and dance and if it gets weird being there on my own.


I leave.

Novel idea that.

And who knows.

Maybe in the work of doing this, in the changing and growing I will, without even meaning to, stumble into the exact place I am supposed to be.

That’s what I suspect.

And I’ll be ready for it when it happens.

Because I am not sucked into Tinder.

But present to be in the gift of the moment.

With whomever God wants me to be with.

I suspect he’s dreamy.

I am.

Unexpected Free Time

July 18, 2013

Is not always something that I look forward to.

In fact, it rather fills me with dread, and there it is, the emotion I have been feeling all day, but until just now, did not realize was there.

I dread down time.

I don’t know what to do with myself and I have two weeks of it coming up.

The main family I nanny for will be in Tahoe for two weeks.

I will have my normal Tuesday gig, but other than that, nada.

I have been socking away the money from work pretty regular and have my fingers crossed to  have the deposit ready to go on the studio/in-law as well as maybe a little extra scratch to buy some household stuff.

Now, with two weeks of down time on my hands not only did I begin to get anxious about the lack of money coming in, I began to get anxious about spending the money I have managed to squirrel away.

Then I got anxious about being anxious.

Anxiety, fuck you, man.

I feel better after the bike ride, although not because it was a calm and relaxing ride home, it never is, but that the air felt good on my skin, the sun was still warm, but I was not too hot, I was goosebumped with gratitude when I saw the girls on every corner between 17th and 19th on International.

Thank you god for not having me be a hooker today.

There but for the grace of.

Fuck me.

I juggled checking out with some popcorn and ice cream in my head but I know that shit don’t work and counting days again around my abstinence is not something I want to do (18 to be exact) again.  I want to go back to counting years.

The bike ride was some exercise and that always does me good.

I had a good dinner.

I have had a nice cup of tea.

I did a few e-mails for the design firm, there, see, there is an hour or two that will be devoted to that.  And I also sent a text message to the families I do a day a week for letting them know I had open availability.

Date night anyone?

I got it.

I also tried to tell myself, with varying degrees of success, that there was something awesome that was going to happen.  I suddenly have two weeks off, except Tuesdays, that leaves a lot of time for adventures.

I could go to the museums, do the MOMA, the Legion of Honor, the DeYoung.  I have not been go any of the museums since I got back.

I could write.

Struggling with that a little.

The blogging and the morning pages are really important, but I have to creates some more writing for me.  I just get uneasy in my skin, questioning, again, what I am doing and why.

Neither of which are important, just doing the writing.

I could find an open mic to go to.

I could go dancing.

I could do a ferry ride to Sausalito or Tiburon.

I could make dates to see friends.

I could be open for an adventure.

I don’t have to know specifically what it is.

Or I could get other work, that could happen, part-time nanny gigs, or other work, I am open to doing other work.  I have to remind myself of that, other work.  I have this mentality at times that I will be stuck as a nanny all my life and I get weary of that outlook.

I had a touch of that today, the nanny malaise.

Helpful though, that my charge was such a pumpkin, she woke up in the most amazing mood.  I would have too, after having a two-hour and forty-five minute nap!

We went for a walk, picked wild black berries, I went to the bank and took out forty bucks for walk around cash, although I did not buy anything, I just like a bill or two in the wallet.  We went to the park, it was full of kids, but not too many, just the right mix of big kids to little kids.  We walked back to her house holding hands, I picked her jasmine blossoms and she ate “nanny mix” from a little plastic pink tub (today’s nanny mix: Annie’s Cheddar Organic Bunnies, dehydrated banana slices, Puffs, O’s, organic wheat crackers, and raisins).

And when I was having the worst I want to check out thoughts, which is just a way for me to hide from the fear, she pinched my arm.

She pinches when she gets anxious, which was an alert for me, my anxiety was coming across even if I wasn’t actively engaging in eating a pile of donuts, my mind was occupied.

And where did she pinch me?

The underside of my left arm, you know, the flap of skin that hangs there so delicately, like a flabby wing of flesh reminding you of every indulgence you ever took.

Thanks kid.

I took the hint and just breathed through the rest of the day.

None of this stuff is new and I wonder what it is that I need to learn or change in my relationships with myself and my environment, with my job and my fear of financial lack.

“You will keep repeating the same relationships until you have finished learning what you need to learn,” she said to me as I expressed my disillusionment with a room-mate situation.


So what is being learned here?

And can I take the knowledge in without checking out or trying to not feel?

Let’s fucking hope so.

I can’t handle another donut attack.

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