I’ve heard it said that I should write every day. Yesterday, I was reminded of that when a radio personality said that he had watched a writer’s skills improving because he wrote every day. I get it. I do. I can even make time for it every day. The problem is finding something about which to write every day.
So, today you get a stupid post, just so I can write.
I do the Internet dating thing. It’s painful, it’s frustrating, and so far, it’s a massive waste of time. When I blog about them, I give them fake names to protect the idiots.
Let’s look at the last few men with whom I’ve spoken this week, shall we?
Mr. 27 year old: I was surprised to find a 27 year old contacting me, but it wasn’t the first time. I’ve had younger men contact me. Usually, I just blow them off. He said he wasn’t looking for anything serious, and something light and non-committal sounded fun, so I thought, “Why not?” We chatted a bit online. It was fun. He was company (I sometimes get very lonely, and even chatting online seems to help ease that discomfort). And then I realized that he just wanted cyber sex. Um… Thanks, but no thanks. I was sad that my dreams of running around with a younger man are kaput.
The same day, Mr. 47 year old contacted me (I found the age difference amusing). On his profile, it says he’s looking for something permanent. I looked through his profile and he seemed like he might be a possibility. Chat, chat, blah, blah. It turns out, he’s looking for a non-professional he could pay to have sex with him. He offered me $1,000. When I turned him down, he doubled his offer. Needless to say, I’m not talking to him anymore.
My favorite one happened yesterday afternoon. Mr. Kicks entered my world for a brief flash of horror. He e-mailed me, so I checked out his profile. It claimed that he likes being kicked where normal men don’t appreciate any forceful strikes. He claimed to actually pay women to kick him. Now, in theory, this sounds like a dream come true for me. There is nothing that can elicit a laugh from me faster than a crotch shot. Honestly – every time, I giggle hysterically. So, for this guy to not only offer to allow me to floor him, but to pay me to do it sounded like the best of all worlds. The problem is, I have a problem with hurting people. I don’t like it. I avoid hurting people, whenever possible. If someone gets a new haircut and I don’t like it, I won’t even mention it. If they ask me directly, I will find some politically correct, non-judgmental, indirect way of telling them that it might take some getting used to, or I preferred the last hair cut better, or some other such drivel. I don’t like hurting people – ever. I don’t even try to hurt my ex, even though I wish he were dead. When Mr. Kicks asked if I had read his profile, I told him I had and asked him if it was a joke. He assured me he was on that site for the sole purpose of finding women for this exact reason. When I told him I wasn’t interested, he asked why. I gave him my reason, thinking that would end it. He asked if I liked money. I told him that I didn’t like money if I wasn’t proud of how I had obtained it. And that was that.
I’m still curious how much he paid women to kick him. Or what his scam was. Or… it was really weird! Was he just seeing if women were there to find easy money? Was he… ? It was just so weird!
Not that online dating is normal or simple. Dating, in general, is difficult. Online dating is even harder. It’s so easy to be someone online, someone who you’re not. I’ve met people in person who were completely different online. It’s so hard to get to know someone online for that very reason, making online dating harder than it should be. But, then again, I’m different online than I am in person. Online, I brave and open and personable. In person, I’m painfully shy. I think I hide it well, but the first meet is always terrifying for me.
I just need to quit dating. I’m not cut out for it.
Unfortunately, I go through these waves. I get all fired up to date, I try it for a couple of weeks, and then I give up. It’s just too hard to weed through all of the jerks to find a decent guy. What I need is someone to find a man for me. “Here, Teri. Here’s your dream guy who will love you and treat you well for the rest of your life. Go, now. Enjoy!”
Maybe when I’m rich and famous, I can hire someone to do that for me. Until then, I’m not going to put too much effort into finding love (or so I say now).