Ok, I'm pissed.

Recently, I ended a long term romantic relationship. My friends have been very supportive and almost all of them reacted with anger - - directed towards the Venezuelan. Part of that reaction is that they are my friends and don’t like it when I get hurt. (They rock.) The other part was incredulity at the fact that over a year into the relationship, when backed into a corner, he explains that he doesn’t ever see himself with a family or married. Whether this is true or whether he lacked the balls to say that he didn’t see that future with me, I won’t know until I get his wedding invitation.

I thanked all of my friends for their reactions but told them not to be angry with him. There were lots of good things about the relationship and the ending was rather uneventful. After reading a blog post (by one of my favorite bloggers! Check her out here: Chez Rougie) about online dating - - she is also recently single, I am pissed.

HELLO!! WHY WERE WE DATING?? WTF?

It’s not like I struggle for things to do on the weekends, well, any day of the week. Between networking, fabulous friends and family, I have kinda a full schedule.

Now I have to start dating again and I AM PISSED.

I am pissed because I have to go out there again.
I am pissed because I have to reactivate my match dot com membership.
I am pissed because I’ll have to go to Alive After 5 and hang out with the 20 somethings and the 30+ somethings who are single 'cause they are weird, just getting divorced or old dudes.
I am pissed because I have to go out there again. (Repetition duly noted.)

Welcome to Stage 3 of the grieving process - Anger & Bargaining.

Oh, and the Tar Heels made it to the Final Four of the NIT. Do they call it a Final Four in the NIT? I mean, they were Not Invited to the Tournament.

Oh, and...I am pissed.

A Weird Weekend

I will dispense with formalities first.  

What the hell happened to the Tar Heels???!!!  My team completely fell apart on Saturday night during the final four.  It was horrible to watch.  They were down by 31 points at one time, then brought the lead within 4 points...only to go down by 18.  Ugh.  The press conference afterwards was even MORE painful to watch.  I have never seen a more distraught team after losing a game.

Now for the fun stuff.  I have started dating again.  I'm really trying to focus on it since I have neglected that part of my life for a while.  A friend set me up with this guy and we were supposed to go out this coming Thursday.  Well, Sunday afternoon he shot me a text and asked me to dinner Sunday night.  I had triple booked Thursday anyway, so this was a great loop hole for me.  I also figured that there was no point in playing games...the whole,  you didn't give me enough lead time so I'm "not available" crap.  Thought I'd skip it.

Dinner was nice.  He showed up in stylish clothes.  Driving a Merecedes CLK350 (turned out it wasn't his, but he drives a BMW645).  Suggested a good restaurant (which had gone out of business in the last week but quickly accepted my suggestion of a decent place down the road).  Conversation was good.  He was funny.  Oh - this was a blind date too.  He was hot (go B! thanks!).  

Now, maybe I have become a bit uptight in my old age?  Maybe the following will explain why I am still singe.  Most of his stories involved dates that went sideways with girls who had at one time or another been employed as strippers.  Now, he was careful to point out that he doesn't frequent strip clubs (not a fan) but seems to meet them.  The stories were damn funny.  But, is it odd to bring up stripper dates on a first blind date?

The nice car thing threw me for a loop.  I NEVER date guys with nice cars.  I have no idea why, but every guy I have dated (last two excepting...maybe I've found grown up men?!) has driven a POS.  Either really old, really dirty or stunk, or a combination of all three.  So, a date with a guy who has a real life nice car is an oddity.  It's a good thing, particularly since I like cars!!

I need to scoot, so for now, I'll wrap with I don't expect him to call.  I don't think I'm his type of girl.