The joy of dating.

I have been concerned for several weeks about job cuts, my school district which is always talking major cuts year after year says for real this one is going to be big.  I hate to leave the school I am in, but since I already applied last summer to work elsewhere this will not really be much of a problem.  The problem is, if I LOSE my job, then perhaps things will be quite different.  As I was stressing about this today it suddenly hit me, that for years I have dreamed of getting my MFA in painting.  I live less than a mile from a very good MFA program.  So rather than sit and find myself muddling through the anxiety and stress of not knowing, I realized that applying to the MFA program might just be an option.  I started the long process, and surely I would be without a job for at least a year if I did lose my job this summer.  But there is hope, at least I am making hope for myself.

I find myself too this week going over again the really awful way that men behave in this era.   I provided so much laughter for my friends on New Years Eve they all told me I should do stand up, one was laughing so hard she said she was going to pee her pants.  The thing is that I basically didn’t embellish my dating stories much at all.  I very nearly told the God’s honest.  Even the old curmudgeon who doesn’t much like pop culture (he had no idea who The Fonz was!)  said it would make an interesting collection of fictionalized short stories.  For example the date is a veritable garden of delights, and viola he begins to hump my leg with his baby carrot.  Or the date is going swimmingly and then he drops his pants in the public park and we are arrested for public lewdness.  (Fictionalized remember!)  Or perhaps it could be Mr. Nigerian scam artist, who claims he is stationed in Iraq,  or maybe it could be the guy who jokes on about 4 occasions that his first sexual encounter was with a sheep.   Oh yes and he raised sheep.  What is it?  Do I have a giant sign on my head that says I am a woman who enjoys disgusting obnoxious childish boy/men?  Or is it that, as I have said more than once already, men who are in their 40’s and single are in their 40’s and single for a reason?  (Women on the other hand may be a single for  a reason, or it could be their other boy/man is now “in love” with someone else.)  I am here once again because once again I find myself having to spurn the advances of someone who is apparently unable to get that I am not his phone sex dial up girl.  Are you wearing high heels and a sexy teddy he asks me?  Um.  NO.  I am wearing flannel pj bottoms and a sweatshirt over a long underwear shirt and warm slippers.  Now F. off because even if I knew you I would not be wearing high heels, I done that, I ain’t doin’ it again.  Listen I say, I am not that girl, not now, not ever.  And furthermore if you want a Victoria Secret model go take the catalog  into the bathroom.  Leave me out of it.  I am not your man toy.  I am not a puppy waiting to play with you.

Meanwhile I wait for a guy like the one we have deemed Plowshares Guy.  Who goes to church with his mother, dresses as a pirate for local fairs, hunts, wears jeans, boots and warm sweaters, has a long beard, nice eyes, and whom I talk with more or less not running out of anything to say whenever I meet him.   Which is at the peace and social justice art fair, which he has attended every year for the last three years, just to “look around”.  Told me he really liked the book and couldn’t wait for the movie, and when I googled him discovered he is a democrat who lives in a house that costs about as much as mine.  He also lives within walking distance of my house.  He does tai chi but started out with yoga.  He told me how he likes to hike at Clark and did I by any chance own snowshoes?  What is my number?  See that is the kind of guy I want.  Someone just like that.  Now according to the book of fictionalized  short stories he will tell me he is bi and did I by any chance want to watch him play with his male partner.  Or else he will tell me he enjoys sex with stuffed animals.  Laughing.  Til I cry.


6 comments on “The joy of dating.

  1. Ah, but in the humor I hear wisdom. Like the sound of hope there, Meg. My Grandmother used to see, “Men are like street cars, another one will be along in ten minutes.” I used to think she was a man hater. Nope. Just very wise. So are you. I want for you the guy that you can talk with without running out of anything to say.

  2. O now Leslie is being very wise! Your inner beauty shine ought to attract the right person–perhaps from a long way away. Perhaps he will be nothing like the ‘perfect’ man you’ve outllined. Oh the surprises of the universe.

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