It's all a numbers game

Dating, how much fun is that? Those of you who know me, know that I have been married three times, that's right, three, wanna make something of it? Apparently I'm really good at getting married, not so good at staying married.

I have all the typical excuses, it wasn't me, it was them, I made bad choices, they pretended to be something they weren't, yada, yada, yada. Oh hell with it, it was me. I wanted something more. I know what I want, I just don't know how to get it. How to stop thinking I can turn every frog into Prince Charming.

Dating is a numbers game and I was never very good at math. In order to meet your Mister Right you gotta kiss a lot of frogs. Ok, I'm puckered up, where are the frogs? You have to put yourself out there, go new places, try new things, meet new people. It sounds like a travel brochure.

I put myself out there. I think I've been a member of every online dating site there is, at least once, some multiple times. It's all fun and games until it comes to actually meeting people. I'm good with emailing, texting,talking on the phone, but as soon as he says " Let's meet for coffee" I'm looking for a way out.

I hate first dates. I'm goofy, I laugh when people trip and hurt themselves, I say inappropriate things, sometimes I laugh until I snort whatever beverage I'm drinking out of my nose. Not the best first impression. I try to rein that in and what happens?

The last man I dated thought I was very reserved. Me, reserved? We dated for two months and when he said that I wasn't even sure he had ever met me. I streak on New years eve, every year, I've been known to tell dirty jokes- to my gynecolgist during an exam, I taught my neice all the foul language she knows. Reserved, really?

I gotta stop that. I'm not reserved, do I really care what they think? If they won't like me I should find out up front, not two years down the road when I let my guard down.

I went on a date with the brother of a friend, I liked him, he told her he didn't think I was into him. Where is the middle ground? Maybe I'm reserved on the first few dates because I've dated so many weirdos who didn't respect my personal space.

Like Mr Winky. He is famous in my circle of friends, the only man I ever dated who, about two hours into our first date, was masturbating on the couch when I returned from the bathroom. We hadn't even kissed yet, not sure what made him think that was the next logical step.

I got him back though. I grabbed my purse and headed for the door, laughing my ass off. He jumped off the couch and came after me. At the door we were greeted by his dog chewing on my tampon applicator, little present for him to clean up after making me need therapy before I could date again.

So, maybe I am reserved, maybe there is a reason for it. But maybe it's time to say the hell with it. Just be me, whoever that is, and see what happens.

Happy Birthday to me!

It's official, I'm a grown up. 45. How did this happen? I remember when I was thirty and I thought surely by the time i was forty I would have my s**t together. Now I'm forty-five and have no idea what it would mean to have my s**t together. Oh, on the outside it all looks good and under control. I own my home, have a good job, a kid I'm proud of, great friends, all the trappings of the grown up world. Inside, I'm 17 and wondering where the hell I am and how I got here and will there be a train or a bus or a plane, or at least instructions about how to get on with my life? Where is the serenity, the peace, the companionship, the person who knows me better than I know myself?
I'm trying not to get to nuts over the fact that I don't have anyone in my life right now. Most of the time I'm really okay with it, but then sometimes I'm not. Sometimes I wonder will I find someone to love again, and if I do, will it be that love that gives you a safe place to land or are we all so damaged by middle age that as much as we want to love another person we still spend way too much time protecting ourselves to really let anyone in?
Who will I be once my baby girl no longer needs me everyday to give her lunch money and make her dinner and take her to the mall, who will need me then? It's happening faster than I ever imagined it would, soon she will be sixteen, she is already talking about where she wants to go to college, and in her voice I hear what she doesn't say. My only child wants her space, she wants a chance to not be the center of her divorced parents world, she wants to be where I am not.
So many changes, so many things stay the same. In the meantime I will work in the garden, I love the soil between my fingers, watching things grow. Yesterday, my official birthday, four crocuses opened their little white faces to me, happy birthday, spring is here. The future is full of opportunities, I just need to figure out how to embrace them.