The Single Life

Let’s put this out there once and for all.  I am FINE.  I don’t mean ‘damn that gurrl is fine’ fine (although, we all know I am);  I mean, fine.  Happy.  I like my life.

I got lost for a little while, but, while my adventures in online dating were frightening and sitcom worthy at the same time; they opened my eyes to who I am and what I want.

I have vowed to reconnect with my friends.  The things I miss about ‘relationships’ are having someone to do shit with.  Patio drinks, movies, hikes, going out.. etc.  All things that a good friend is more than happy to do with you.  It just takes a little scheduling and I have learned, you cannot wait for someone to ask you, just make a call and have some fun.

Things I have learned from ‘dating’ at 37:  I do not like to have to wear pants.  As much as I love to have people just ‘pop over’, be prepared that it’s possible that I am walking around without pants on.  Why?  Because I can.  I don’t have to shower, clean, cook or stick to the plans that I made for the day.  If Netflix calls me and I decide that, no, I no longer want to be productive for an entire weekend, or leave my house.  I don’t have to.  No one knows but me, and there is no one contributing to my mess but myself.

I don’t like ‘sleep overs’.  Get out of my bed.  I sleep diagonally across a queen sized bed, and at sometimes it still isn’t big enough for me.  I have made a pillow fortress, I sleep with 5 of them.  Yep… 5 pillows.  Because I can.  And I don’t want to share them.  I can wake up when I want.  I am not disturbing anyone but Tallulah when I get up and put on 90s grunge and make coffee.  Or I can lay in bed until noon, and not hinder anyone else’s productivity.

I cook what I want, when I want.  If I don’t go grocery shopping (because I despise it) and I live on oatmeal and popcorn for weeks.  No one complains, and I don’t feel guilty for starving another person out of sheer laziness.

I also recently discovered that I dislike a disruption in my morning routine.  Maybe it’s a sign that I have been single for too long, or that I am actually just one of those people who is better on their own.  But I’m going to tell you a story.

I started dating a guy.  He was alright.  Seemed pretty cool.  Then he stayed over.

My morning before work goes like this:  Coffee is on a timer.  I get up, pour a cup, drink some, then take the dog for a walk.  On my walk I listen to music.  Typically it’s 90s Alt. rock or old school metal/punk.  Yes, that’s my morning music.  It works for me.  I come back, top up my coffee, sit down and flip through social media and have something to eat.  After this, top off my coffee again (don’t judge me) I shower, dress and leave for work.  It’s seamless.  I can arrange for a disruption if I know it’s coming.  Other than that.  No room for error.

Enter sleepover.  He wants to cuddle all night…. not the cuddling that leads to anything either… just cuddling.  So I don’t sleep very well, as I can’t get comfortable and he breathes loudly and by around 1 am I seriously debate just kicking him out or smothering him.  But I try to be nice, and I don’t.  I then discover he is a ‘morning person’ and takes joy in irritating people who are not morning people.  If you are one of these people, you’re a dick, and just stop.  He comes on my walk, wants to talk, “this is quality time that we get to spend together”.  At this point I have no finished a whole cup of coffee, AND cannot listen to my music.  Just no.  I top off my coffee, and he takes to pouting because “Facebook is obviously more important”.  Then it happens.  Just as I am about to shower (which has a two song minimum for me to be on time).  He decides that he wants to shower (and not the good shower together kind either… just needs to get ready for work.  WHAT?  You had all this time,  this time when he was trying to force me into being a morning person, and he wasted it irritating me.  UGH.  Yep, fine, have a shower.  Post shower, he puts on more scented lotions than I even knew existed and jammed down my throat how he takes such good care of himself.  I don’t care.  Go home.  Stop calling me.

This is when I realized.  I’m fairly set in my ways.  If you aren’t bringing middle of the night sex to the table, don’t stay over, and for gods sake don’t try to make me a morning person.  After 5-7 “I miss you soooo much” selfie text messages, after knowing each other for a week.  And a terrible sleep over experience, I came to realize that there is only one thing that my friends cannot provide that I actually miss.  Yes, you know what I am talking about, but I’m sure I may know some people who are willing to help me out.

Needless to say, I deleted all of my online dating information, and am wary of anyone who says “I know this great guy”.

John Cusack, you’ve ruined me.

It’s no secret.  I have been single for two years now (almost).  I am asked all the time, “why”?  As if I know.  By choice?  I guess partially.  There are many factors.  I am picky, I don’t think that’s a bad thing.  I wasn’t ready for while.  I have no really good way to meet eligible men.  I think sometimes that my health issues are too much to ask any guy to take on.  Lots of reasons I could give you that I don’t “have a man”.

Yes, I am loving, giving and all those great things.  I make a good girlfriend.  I’m far from perfect, but some guy could do worse.  I know this.

Then it hits me.  I’m watching TV and it all becomes completely clear.

Cusack  John Cusack.

Handsome, smart, witty, creative and loves to the point of insanity.  It’s him.  No one can live up to that.  I want my boom box moment.  I want Peter Gabriel at the break of dawn held over the head of the guy that just can’t go on without me.

I want to be someones Haley’s Comet, for someone to think that I am a gorgeous mess and to tell all his friends about me.  I want a mixed tape.  I want someone to search through New York following clues to find me after a magical chance meeting.

Now, let’s not blame it all on John.  That wouldn’t be fair.  We can always through Bing Crosby, Fred Astaire, Tony Curtis and Gene Kelly into the mix.

It comes down to I watch too many old movies.  Too many movies where men meet a woman in a chance encounter and are completely smitten.  Love at first sight.  That insatiable need for another persons company and these men will do anything to find that woman and make her their own.

So my friends, I am still looking for him.  One day maybe someone will meet these unreal expectations and sweep me off my feet in some amazing dance number that only Rogers and Hammerstein could have come up with.  And you all will be the first to know.

PS:  for those of you who keep track, I do believe that Mr Cusack is single.  I can only assume that he is waiting for me.