Tag Archives: dating

Precious and Few [SOCS]

I have a small and compact life, the opposite of “living large” as I believe the term is used. The pieces of my puzzle are few, but they are very precious to me. (Not saying that people who have more pieces to their life puzzles consider any of those pieces any less precious.)

I’ve been thinking about this recently in the context of dating, and why that didn’t work out for me. I’ve said that lots of men are too picky, which is true, at least (imo) about superficial requirements, like needing a ski buddy. Dude, you’re 60… how often do you actually ski? Anyway, besides the fact that I met a ridic number of mentally ill men (but some were not), the fact is that I’m not so willing to compromise on my puzzle pieces either. They’re much too precious to me. Forex, I would never give up my kitty, nor would I agree to shut him out of the bedroom. He’s annoying, but he’s family.

Just this last week I visited my daughter for a week ~ I had a bunch of unused vacay days I was happy to spend on family. I wouldn’t want to “waste” those on a guy. I deliberately keep days unused so I can have them for my (adult) kids, if I want. This makes me happy. It also makes me happy to randomly take a day off for myself and do absolutely nothing without having to explain that to anyone. Nope, don’t wanna see anyone. Doing nothing! Yayyy!

I know it sounds like I’m only temporarily happy because I haven’t yet met Mr. Right, and that could be true, but I am 57, so I’ll take the transitory joy for as long as it’s available. It’s also great to have my own friends and not have to “share” them with a boyfriend. You know what I mean. He’d clomp along with me to see my friends, and I wouldn’t necessarily even want him there but would have to pretend to, and then I’d have to reciprocate by seeing his friends. Ughhh.

I know I’m thinking about this all wrong. I used to fantasize about how much fun it would be to meet someone… but now it just seems like it would take away from all my precious loves. Not that it matters cuz I don’t meet new men these days, but this is stream of consciousness Saturday. 😀

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Wherein she offends everyone and their little dog too…

I might not poast this. We’ll see. Sometimes I write a dating story (yes, about you) and trash it because nobody needs to see all that whiny dreckage. But lately I’ve been giving less of a fuck, the way I used to in that nice space during 2012 when I wasn’t dating before I began again (big mistake) and worried what potentials might think of my rants. Who cares?!

Anyway. I’m disgusted and disturbed by so many aspects of the Kavanaugh mess. In general, I keep my political opinions on twitter twatter, and even there am pretty low key, but when I “like” someone else’s tweet, it doesn’t fully explain my POV and sometimes I feel like expressing it in my own words.

1. In 1982, I was date-raped by a drunken Irish guy in Chicago. I call it date-rape not to minimize other women’s experiences but because we were literally on a date and I (foolishly) believed him when he said, afterward, that he’d call me for another one. At that point, despite what had just occurred, I still liked him. I decided his aggressive behavior was because of drinking and could be forgiven. I was 20 years old; he was 24. But days passed, he didn’t call, and I found out he had a fiancée. We worked in different areas of a large insurance company and when we next saw each other in the hall, he completely ignored me.

Since time had passed, I didn’t tell anyone about this, not for years anyway. Right then, I was most concerned for my job because this had happened at work. He had asked me for drinks and left his briefcase in my office because it could be locked. I didn’t even have a clue he was plotting something. We walked to a bar, had a few beers (2 for me; 4-5 for him), and returned to the building, where we had to sign in. I was a low level employee and he wasn’t. For weeks, I worried that some manager reviewed those after hours sheets and I would be called into HR to explain why I’d signed in past 8pm on a Friday night. But that never happened.

About a year and a half later, right before I moved to California, I was working at a new company and I saw him in the food court. He stopped and chatted with me like we were old friends. It was so strange! I have to admit though that the date-rape incident itself was not traumatizing. His lying was an issue however, plus the fact that he’d been cheating on his fiancée. This was the beginning of the mountain of lies and broken promises I’ve experienced from men either first or second hand throughout my life.

2. The Kavanaugh circus brought this back to mind. I’m reminded of the fact that most assaults against women are done by men they know, not strangers in alleys. You don’t expect men you know to betray your trust, whether they’re a school friend or a coworker or even some new man you’ve chatted with for a while on a dating site. Why do they have to be such assholes?!? And it’s true we don’t know for sure that Kavanaugh is guilty of assaulting anyone, but he sure acted like an asshole. To clear his good name? Give me a fucking break. I think worse of him now. He acted guilty. Belligerently guilty. Exactly the way our horrible POTUS acts when anyone criticizes him, which is why I tend to believe every accusation against him, except for the super looney tunes ones.

3. I’m sick of the huge number of people in this country who have been brainwashed into believing that only Ivy League law school grads can be federal judges. And Yale and Harvard at that? There are a lot of law schools, peeps! But this myth is self-perpetuating with the judges from those schools choosing interns from the same schools and these are the ones who climb the system. It’s so ironic coming from the “drain the swamp” people, the very same people who sneered at “coastal elites” during Trump’s whole campaign ~ what the holy fuck do they think prep school fratboy Kavanaugh is?!? No, they luv him cuz POTUS said to.

4. Okay fine, everyone’s a hypocrite. I get that. The whole “coastal elite” sneering was just a defense against the uncalled for diss of “flyover country.” It’s all shitty. Huge swaths of our country shouldn’t be labeled and dismissed as somehow unworthy or lesser than. That’s why we’re in the terrible divided place we’re at now. I feel it when people in Los Angeles label everyone in Orange County as a rightwinger. Wrong! There are plenty of Democrats here.

5. Speaking of Democrats, they really need to get their act together. Toughen up! I’m tired of your whining and tantrums. Stop yelling at Republicans in restaurants and focus on getting your goddamn lazy friends to vote blue. That’s the way out of this. Not with stupid hats and signs and boycotts. Quit thinking some “moderate” Republican will save us, for FUCKSAKE. There are no moderate Republicans ~ they are all gonna do what Trump says. How much more proof do you need?

6. Do not blame the confirmation on Susan Collins. Yes, she held out till the last minute, so she ended up with a bunch of attention, but she’s a Republican and voted with her peeps. She didn’t betray anyone. Who did? That fucker Joe Manchin. Don’t let him off the hook and blame a woman! He’s a damn Democrat!

7. The supplemental investigation was a farce and should not have been tolerated unless it was allowed to be open ended. But the Dems should have been much more on top of Kav’s shady financial issues way before this high school stuff even came up. How did he pay for his house? His country club membership? Why did his credit card debt suddenly and mysteriously disappear? The Dems just let this shit slide. I am so very disappointed in them.

8. There should be term limits for all Congress critters imo. Why do we have so many doddering old folks in there? It’s ridonkulous.

9. For the record, since I see a bunch of liberal-haters carrying on about it: yes, I think Bill Clinton is or was a disgusting creep toward women in his personal life and it’s a shame we didn’t believe women back then when they accused men of assault and harassment. (It’s a shame we didn’t believe Anita Hill; I wish Thomas was not on the Court.) And yes, for the record, I believe Keith Ellison’s ex when she says that he assaulted her.

Note how nothing has changed! Our terrible POTUS actually mocks survivors of assault and his awful supporters laugh. Cuz victims are funny! Sexual assault never happens to a female Republican, nope. What isn’t funny to them? The possibility of a wealthy privileged white conservative man being denied a promotion. That’s fucking intolerable!

10. Finally, I will not now or ever publicly name my date-rapist, nor will I contact him privately for some BS “closure.” I don’t need that. I did google him the otter week. He’s a divorced real estate broker in the Chicago area with a current pic available. He has aged well ~ maybe he quit drinking. No danger he’ll be named to the Supreme Court, so I don’t need to save America from his rapeyness. Besides, he’s a Democrat.

Where she almost runs out of gas & ends up with cupcakes

So the otter day I needed gas and should have stopped off after work but was too lazy. I’ll get it in the morning, I thought. But in the morning, I forgot I needed gas and didn’t leave extra time before work to get some. I could have been a couple minutes late, but I don’t like to do that. I’ll get it at lunch, I decided. But then I didn’t wanna cuz I was busy eating a potato. After work, I really had to get some because the light came on when I started the car. Eeps! Scary!

I went to the Shell station by my office, which I hate cuz peeps are rude and aggressive there, but whatever. My credit card didn’t work. Which was ridic because it’s a new card and I have plenty of credit on it. Maybe the card reader doesn’t like new, anti-fraud cards? I tried an older card, also with plenty of money on it, and it didn’t work either. OMG the Shell station knows I hate it and hates me back! There were no open pumps and so I left in a rage.

I googled gas stations and saw there was a Chevron right nearby on MacArthur. Great! The map lady kept telling me to turn on streets that were not MacArthur, which was putting me into more of a boiling rage. Sometimes I really hate the map lady. Why can’t I just turn on MacArthur, which is coming right up? I did that. Then I see the Chevron is on my left directly across from the airport. What a pain. SHIRLEY there are more gas stations if I drive down MacArthur just a little bit, right? It’s full of hotels and businesses. I keep driving (with the fuel light on) and NOTHING. WTF? Why are there no gas stations anywhere? OMFG! I’m thinking I should turn around and go to the Chevron, but then I’m at Fashion Island already, which is a giant mall/business center. Oh FFS, there has to be a gas station here!

I end up flung out on Pacific Coast Highway where there is a 76 station, hooray, so I go there. The gas is of course like $18 per gallon, since I’m not even in Newport Beach now but Corona del Mar, where the homes are $4M minimum. Excuse me estates. It cost me $430 to fill up my Corolla. People looking at me like oh haha maid’s night out isn’t that cute? The 76 station card reader is fine with my new credit card.

Btw, I now hate Range Rovers more than BMWs, for anyone keeping track of my prefs.

While the car is gobbling up the primo fuel, I’m thinking dur I could have simply driven home and gotten gas at my normal Mobil station, and I would have wasted less gas and time looking for gas, but noooo. Now, at this point, a sensible person would go home, nuke some dinner, and watch the tube, but we’re talking about me… and I see I’m directly across from Corona del Mar Plaza. This plaza contains Gulfstream bar and restaurant, where I first met the man who broke my heart ~ remember him? We just talked about him! But who cares, eh?

Corona del Mar Plaza also haz a Sprinkles Cupcakes store. Oh, yes it does. After my tremendously stressful ordeal finding gas, I decide I am entitled to a gourmet cupcake, which I haven’t had in ages. I bought two: the triple cinnamon and the pumpkin, both with cinnamon cream cheese frosting. I wanted to try their special flavor, Timeless Magic (might be a Harry Potter thing), cuz it was gorgeous purple with gold dust and black velvet cake, but once they said it was filled with pop rocks I reverted to form and took the pumpkin.

Lest anyone think I ate two cupcakes at once (the horror!), I had one for dinner and one the next morning for breakfast. Here’s a weird thing. I loved the cake part of these cupcakes, especially the cinnamon, which I highly recommend. Soooo moist and flavorful (and I don’t understand why people have a thing about the word moist). But since I haven’t had frosting since like my birthday in April, I found it almost too sweet at first. Then I got used to it again and it was fabulous! But my reaction shocked me. Too sweet? What? But even the little bit of candy I indulge in now and then isn’t enough to keep my sugar craving up to 11 like before. Honestly I would be happy with just the cinnamon cake sans frosting. Or the pumpkin.

I know. Who am I? What’s happened to the real Paula? If we’re such enigmas to even ourselves, with our own once-solid traits as shifting as the sands, how can we expect to begin to understand another person? Take a look around you, at the people you think you know… do you really know them at all? Do you really know yourself? Anything can change in an instant… like your dessert preferences. Proceed with caution.

This was like two (2) enthralling poasts in one. You’re welcome! 😀

Oops forgot a title omgawd!

Look 👀 I’m sharing again! 😱

Questions from Sparks:

Last week I asked a question about favorite beverages and the overwhelming favorite was coffee.   If you drink coffee, how do you like it best?  Hot, cold, iced, with cream, with sugar or black as black?

– Well, I answered tea, I think, but who can remember last week really? It seems forever ago with all the insanity that’s happened since. I’ve got to quit reading so much news (she says every time she checks the news). I like coffee with cream, or all fancied up with ice and caramel and whipped cream for a bajillion calories and then I tell myself I’ve “skipped dinner.”

If you don’t drink coffee, how has that beverage impacted YOUR world?

– You mean like all the stupid Starbucks meets I went on when I was still on dating sites thinking I’d meet a nice guy and we’d fall in love so I’d have fun and company and sex and cuddles in my sunset years and not have to DIE ALONE WITH THE CAT as I choke on a c00kie in my kitchen while no one calls for help? Um… no, coffee hasn’t impacted my world at all. Weird question.

In your opinion, what’s the greatest invention of our age?

– C00kies 🍪🍪🍪

Global warming?  Reality or myth?

– I’m going with NASA’s research on this. The great thing about referring to the minds at NASA ~ you know, the rocket scientists, physicists, mathematicians, engineers, etc. who got us to the freaking moon ~ is that you can totes dismiss the goofballs in MAGA hats who scream about conspiracy theories. Poof! All gone.

Are you an explorer or more a home body?

– I’m definitely a homebody. I generally hate going out, especially if I have to drive anywhere far. My favorite kind of day is one where I don’t leave my apartment at all. I consider that a big win.

and last:

What were you grateful for this week?

– Paradoxically, that I got to spend Saturday with my daughter, son-in-law, and gbaby, who live 40 miles away… and yes I drove to them. Some things are worth it.

Bottoms Up [mini-rant]

“I’d rather have a bottle in front of me than have a frontal lobotomy!”

I said that to my daughter yesterday and she assumed it was one of my brilliant wordplays, but I had to confess I didn’t come up with it. Who did? I asked google, and ended up tangled in a kerfuffle. Even Stephen King has a Twitter thread about the phrase. What’s clear as mud is that the song we know and lurve from Dr. Demento is not its first occurrence.

Seems like either Dorothy Parker, W.C. Fields, or Fred Allen coined it, according to the internet. And not only that, but the original phrasing is like so: “I’d rather have a free bottle in front of me than a prefrontal lobotomy!” If anyone has the definitive story of this phrase, spill it in comments please.

I dedicate this poast to booze, given that it’s the beginning of fall, the harvest moon, and delicious pumpkin spice goodness. I raise my cup of tea in a toast to the season, fruit of the vine, red red wine, and only wish it could be laced with whiskey (or whisky). We have a strange relationship with alcohol in this country. Well, I don’t ~ I have no relationship with it, so sad. Unlike dating, I actually miss alcohol. Love you, bye forever. 😢 🥀💔

As I understand it, if a woman (or girl) gets drunk and something bad happens to her, everyone will say she only has herself to blame.

But if a man (or boy), gets drunk and does something bad, people will excuse his behavior due to the booze and say well ya know… boys, whaddaya gonna do?

We’ve arbitrarily decided that no one can have a taste of alcohol until they’re 21, not even if they’re with their parents, but then we send kids off to college at 18, call them adults… yet they’re totally unprepared to deal with the booze-soaked reality of college life. Parents aren’t allowed to teach a teenager how to drink a glass or two of wine, or a couple beers, so they over-indulge like maniacs once they get away. If you believe that yours aren’t gonna do this, bwahahaha.

So much of dating and adult socializing in general is tied up with our drinking culture in weird ways too, even though we have super strict laws about drunk driving, as we should. We should imo have more enforcement of our other traffic laws too, especially speeding and red light running, huge issues in SoCal. Anyway, dating after divorce reminded me again what a huge part alcohol plays in our society. During my marriage, we rarely drank ~ maybe we should have, lol. But now it’s moot because of chronic migraines.

I know, I know. You were thinking I was about to careen off into a wild rant about you know what and you know who and omg can you believe those guys and did you read what he said about what she said and then that whole thread holy crap on a canapé amirite?

We’re good then.

Flower Power [SOCS]

Flowers are a funny thing… I used to tell men (dates/prospective dates) not to get me flowers, that I was allergic, or that they’d trigger migraines. I’d sometimes simplify this all to “I’m not really into flowers.” I’d make sure to say this if it was around Valentine’s Day, the holiday that men dread. (I’d also say I didn’t care about V-Day too.) 🥀

All that was a lie. I love flowers! Of course I do. 🌺🌼🌸 Flowers are beautiful and awesome, each one different and special. I love them singly and in bouquets, in arrangements and in gardens. My favorites are sunflowers and orchids, plus all the variegated roses, especially pink to yellow. I also adore African violets. My mom used to have a lot of those.

I told men I didn’t like flowers so they wouldn’t spend extra money on me. I was trying to be helpful and kind. But it all backfired anyway as several men who paid for dinners and such criticized me for that later anyway. I’ve experienced a lot of criticism from men I’ve dated and had relationships with. I don’t know if this is normal or if I attract these kind of men, or what the deal is. It’s probably the biggest reason I’ve quit dating. Not only do I fail to find someone, but then I have to listen to a pile of whinery. My favorite: “you didn’t bake me cookies!”

Maybe I shouldn’t have tried to be helpful and kind. Maybe I should have said hell yeah I like flowers and candy… and I love to be treated to a super special night out for Valentine’s Day. 🌹💋🍷Then I would have ended up dating a whole different class of men, and that might not have been a bad thing. Or it could have been much worse!

Sunsets & Sushi

What’s on your dating site grocery list?

One of today’s prompt words ~ eclectic ~ reminded me of the things men used to write in their profiles. They probably still do, but since I’m not in dating site world, it doesn’t exist. See how that works? 😀 Everyone was eclectic there. Lots of unique interests that made them all out of the box thinkers. You just can’t put a label on this one! He’s a maverick. Independent. A bit wild, IYKWIM. Definitely not like the other guys on these sites. Nope.

“I like sunsets, sushi, football [go, dumb college team!], travel, dogs, will tolerate cats (haha), you in a little black dress, you in jeans, you with me, laughing, smiling, and, most importantly, radical honestly.” — some typically unique dude

This was the latest fad, to emphasize some higher form of honesty. Radical was a fave. Fierce was also used. Savage? Brutal? Not so much. I didn’t see nuclear honesty; that would have been scary. I kinda like the sound of atomic honesty… has a nice slanty rhyme in there.

It’s all bullshit, of course. No one is honest.

I was going to write that I miss mocking these profiles, but really who has time? The news has since expanded to fill up all my available free minutes with absolute insanity that I must keep up with or… or… idk what.

Must dash. More news! What’s happened in the past 10 minutes? Omgawd Giuliani and Dershowitz have both yabbered something. 🙄🙄🙄

The Conversation

“Max, we need to talk,” Rachel said. “And I think you know why.”

Max sighed. “Seriously? I couldn’t even begin to guess.”

“Just like a guy.” Rachel rolled her eyes. “Everything is deteriorating and you don’t even have a clue.”

“Come on. Isn’t that a bit dramatic? I thought you were happy. Just last week you said you had so much fun.” Max smiled as he tried to cajole her back to her normal good mood.

Rachel wasn’t having it. “That was before I realized things were falling apart to the point of danger and possible harm if we continue on.”

“Oh Rachel. For heaven’s sake!” Then Max saw where she was pointing and gasped in alarm.

He took her hand. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea the foundation was rotted out. We don’t have to spend Friday night in a silly old treehouse ever again. Let’s go to the movies!”

The Pink Cupcake [a dating story]

A couple people have asked about my blog icon photo, so here’s the Saturday night special version. This isn’t a funny dating story with a twist at the end, but a stupidly sad one, or a sadly stupid one. Take your pick.

I had a relatively popular blog from 2004-2007ish. Then I grew weary of the (self-imposed) pressure to come up with funny and/or interesting poasts several times per day. Back then, I grabbed a lot of my topics from the news, including political stuff, and wasn’t afraid of generating arguments; now, I avoid this.

For a while, I tried keeping a super light blog about cats, cupcakes, and shoes only, but it became too boring for everyone, including me. Then my mom died, and my marriage broke up. Those two things aren’t related, but they’re both at the top of the life stress scale. I latched onto the first person who offered emotional support… and I fell in love with him. And he was married ~ one of those who was just waiting to leave when X happened, but then X turned into Y, and then Z. (He’s still there, living in the house with his wife long after X, Y, Z, yada.)

So, to cope I started a new blog, this one. My first poast was March 25, 2011. I didn’t talk directly about my relationship of course, since he knew about the blog too, but I would poast song lyrics and excerpts from books I was reading that alluded to it. Later, after we broke up, I did write a bit about how I felt at certain points, though I’ve probably deleted most of that now. Long-time readers will know him as TMW, short for “the man who broke my heart.”

In 2010, for his birthday I bought cupcakes for us. Not a cake because obviously he wouldn’t be able to take it home with him. I took a pic of mine ~ it was strawberry with a chocolate heart. Later I realized the heart was broken and I thought it was a neat pic. When I began the blog, I decided to use it for my “subtle” profile photo. If anyone asked, I figured I could say I was planning to resume doing cupcake reviews again. But I’m not planning to do that. I just like this photo. It’s held up over time.

Peanut Butter

I stole these 26 questions from Fandango, who snagged them from Barbara, at Teleportingweena. But I have an issue with 26 (yes, including our alphabet, annoying). Twenty-five is a great number, and oddly enough (hehe) so is 27. But 26? Meh! I guess I can think of it as 13×2 and be okay that way. That’s what I’ll do then: renumber the questions halfway through.

1. Share your profile picture.

– Which profile? Here’s one from last year, taken at the happiest place on earth.

2. Who are you named after?

– Paula Abdul.

3. Do you like your handwriting?

– Like Fandango, I used to have great handwriting, but now that I’ve gotten older, it sucks.

4. What’s your favorite lunchmeat?

– Peanut butter.

5. Longest relationship?

– I had a good relationship with my dad from the day I was born until he died in 2013 just before I turned 52.

6. Do you still have your tonsils?

– Nope.

7. Would you bungee jump?

– NFW!

8. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?

– Sometimes.

9. Favorite ice-cream?

– Coconut chocolate chip.

10. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

– That they’re too close to me.

11. Football or baseball?

– Neither.

12. What color pants are you wearing?

– White lounge pants with grey and pink flowers.

13. Last thing you ate?

– Peanut butter on a banana.

1. If you were a crayon what color would you be?

– Ultraviolet, baby.

2. Favorite smell?

– Cinnanommmm.

3. Who was the last person you spoke to on the phone?

– One of the partners at work.

4. Hair color?

– Light brown plus some silver.

5. Eye color?

– Hazel (this feels like filling out a dating profile now).

6. Favorite food to eat?

– Seafood pasta.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

– Romantic comedies with happy endings.

8. Last movie you watched?

– I rewatched American Gigolo a few days back because it came up on Prime. Saw it over 30 years ago and liked it a lot. Didn’t like it that much this time. I didn’t sense any chemistry between the leads; it was just trashy and sad.

9. Favorite holiday?

– Loved Fandango’s answer, but I’ll go with New Year’s Day.

10. Beer or wine?

– Neither. Alcohol triggers migraines.

11. Favorite day of the week?

– Sunday.

12. Three or (four) favorite bloggers you want to learn more about?

– Anyone who plays along.

13. Added info you didn’t know you wanted.

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