Monday, October 27, 2014

Peek-A-Boo

Lately something has been happening- I have been attracting men out of the woodwork. Autumn is my rutting season; the time when I feel alive and ready to snuggle. In their primitive state, I think men are picking up on this. Random men have complimented me on my clothing, my smile, even my lipstick. Hey, I'll take it.

I don't think there's anything particularly remarkable about this, more that I'm putting out good energy. 
1- I'm in my "duck it" phase; the phase when I'm about enjoying life and not worrying about my age or my dating status, etc. 
2- It's freakin' Fall! This is my favorite time of the year and I look up in wonder like a little kid every time I go outside. 
3- I smile all the time (see above 2 reasons)- who can resist a person truly just happy in the moment?? 

This has been great for my self-esteem, if not a burden on my social calendar. It seems that a down day (i.e. a day I emerge only to aspire to wearing pajamas all day in true Bridget Jones fashion) are wishful thinking. 

This has also been the case of the online dating scene. Many men have come out from the woodwork and favorited me, winked, and emailed. My friend has given me a look that's both perplexed and full of awe. "What the hell?" she asks, when I show her pics, "they're cute and you have your own posse!" Yes, it's been fun to flirt and get my mojo going. 

But there is a percentage of these guys that come on super strong. The favorite you, send you multiple emails in a day, facebook friend you, and then... well, then they start sending you pics. Let's take Lothario Lad. He's a super cute guy 6-7 years my junior. He goes through all the super strong come-ons that I mentioned above. First he sends me a pic of himself. Normal enough. "Umm, okay, thanks for that." Then he sends one with his shirt unbuttoned. "Uh, weird," I think. The pictures progress (or shall we say regress) until he's wearing his underwear and then- OOPS! nothing at all. Oh boy. 

At first this odd behavior was amusing. I very mildly encouraged it with emails of "nice," "okay then," and "there are no words." Hell, you're a good-looking guy and if you want to show off your good-looking body go ahead. But now it just feels exploitive and wrong. I mean, is he a voyeur and really gets off on this sort of thing? Does he think that women respond to pics like men do? Does he think I'll return the favor and send him pics of myself? Does he think I'm a "talent" scout?

I really don't know and don't care but I tried to squelch this by saying, "Women aren't as visual as men. Naked pics from a complete stranger will only do so much." His response? Another pic asking if I wanted to see him full-on naked. There's no need. I feel like I'm dealing with someone with low self-esteem or perhaps just very singularly focused. I mean, who would send pics of themselves to someone that could just blast them on the internet? Maybe these guys don't care but it exceeds the realm of odd to me. It's guys like these that keep blogs like mine going.

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

The Lengths We Go...

It is listed on my dating profile that I have fantastic taste in music (the best), great taste in literature, hit or miss on movies, and TERRIBLE taste in tv. Seriously, I should not be trusted with the remote. Ever. This tv folly is an unfortunate truth that I have to live with, as does anyone that watches tv with me. I will watch Jersey Shore, any number of shows about Gypsy weddings or breaking out of the Amish community, Moonshiners (how there's enough ammo for multiple seasons is beyond me), and even Total Divas- a show about women wrestlers.

Yeesh, I can't even look at myself right now.

I was getting ready for bed last night and channel surfing to clear my head. As I was flipping through shows I came upon yet another reality show about Tori Spelling and Dean-what's-his-name(?). She talked about her last desperate attempt to save her previous marriage and what led her to meet her current husband. The day before she met what's-his-name, she went to a voodoo priestess. As she regaled the story of being cleansed by first taking a milk bath then getting soaked in chicken blood, she never once paused in embarrassment that she, I dunno, got soaked in chicken's blood.

It occurred to me that we all do desperate things when something's really important to us. And although I haven't followed Tori through this particular rabbit hole, I have jumped down my own versions. I've read countless books, I've even done the self-hypnosis manifestation cds. I've analyzed, assessed, online dated, prayed, joined meetup groups, and Tinder (which I thought was just an innocent dating app). I even have gone to palm readers and tarot readers, eating up every word they had to say, even when it was plainly generic and playing on my insecurities.

The one thing I haven't done enough is just throw my hands up and say, "fuck it." Perhaps "fekkit," if you're Irish or "duck it" if you're Autocorrect. Well after going to Salem, MA and having my cards read with my friends, I am at the "duck it" stage. I didn't even ask about my love life and yet she proceeded to tell me that there was a dark shadow hindering my love life. What the duck?! In the moment, I ate it up but the longer I thought about it I felt like I might as well have been standing in voodoo chicken blood.

Here's the truth- I spend way too much time seeking. When I actually really feel something for a guy it's always unexpected; it has never been when I was looking. It's always with someone that would never have met my advanced search criteria on any dating site. He might be younger, older, an ethnicity I never heard of, slight, stout, even Southern. However it's also always someone that connects with me, gets my quirky personality, and opens my mind to a new way of being. If he happens to have a handlebar moustache, beard, or chops, so be it. He could open my mind through music, philosophy, travel, politics, sports- anything.

You know something, that's not someone I ever find when I'm searching. I will still date, I have a date this week, but I think I will take a vacation from seeking. God always one-ups my wishes anyway so I'll leave it to Him to surprise me. I just want to have a "duck it" moment where I can just live and enjoy my life instead of always searching to improve it. I remain open just spending more time enjoying what I DO have in Life instead of mourning over what I don't have
.

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Vacation Jilly Style

I have been on a two-week vacation- La! I decided to fulfill a couple of bucket-list items and travel New England during the Autumn. A friend of mine commented on this and said how brave I was for doing this. Brave?? Hmm, not really how I would define it but she said if she ever tried that her friends and family would immediately question her and make her feel awkward about doing a two-week vacation alone.


It occurred to me that I have other friends who feel the same way. A couple I know just spent a week touring the Kentucky Bourbon Trail. He commented on how all that driving alone must have been hard and how nice it was to share his vacation with his wife. Does everything have to be a shared event?

Frankly, I'm glad I did this with just me and my dog. Michelle demands very little except the wind blowing on her and an occasional potty break. She's traveled with me on my many moves so a road trip was no harrowing experience. Let me highlight the benefits of a solo and customized sojourn:

My trip was MY TRIP. I didn't have to alter, add, or delete any elements. It allowed me to be spontaneous or completely planned, as per my whim. When my first venture to see a cranberry bog ended in a sign threatening my life, I could add another trip to see a different bog. When I left Vermont a day early, I just did it; I didn't have to ask.

I didn't have to limit or extend my time in any one place. I went to this little town in Connecticut- I fell in love. If anyone would have been with me I would have been able to spend a half hour, hour tops there. Instead, I walked the quiet streets with my dog, meandering for a couple of hours. I then sat under a chestnut tree writing, listening to the trees, being pelted with chestnuts... it was wonderful. In fact I sat there until the rapidly dropping temperatures and darkness forced me away. However, this remains the best part of a truly fantastic trip and I will never forget the peace I felt there.

I had great one-on-one time with friends. I visited several friends while I was traveling. Being on my own we could just catch up and have a good time, not worrying about planning events that will make a group happy. When I went to Salem, MA my friends, Kevin and Lindsey went with me. When I went to Cambridge, MA I got to catch up with my friend, Joan Lin. When I went to Saratoga Springs, NY I had individual time with both Tatiana and Theodore- and I'm sure I'll never be able to repay him listening to my incessant talking (this is the curse of people like him who are excellent listeners and it encourages people like me to purge ourselves of every thought and complaint- ugh, embarassing).

Finally, I had loads of time to clear my head of the chatter and really identify how I feel. This causes a lot of self-awareness which is both painful and liberating. I learned a lot about myself and where I stand. Perhaps another month of sorting through these awakenings and I'll have a clearer direction of where I'm going in Life. Point being, I doubt I would have had such an awareness practice had I not a lot of alone time. I think next time, I'll go back to Iona, Scotland for a couple of weeks pilgrimage. Maybe next year...

Thursday, October 2, 2014

Debauchery-ville

I have a twisted sense of humor. Now I have a neighbour that joins that tribe and this just can't be good for society. However, we laugh a lot and that always makes for a great life.

One of the things we are currently into is Fairy gardens. There are Pinterest pages full of these adorable little villages with acorn hats, thimble chairs, mossy, glens, and quirky little gnomes. This is all too innocent for my neighbour and I. Instead, we are looking to create our own gnomish version of a Debauchery-ville. 

This all started when my counterparts at the State gave me a going away present of fairy garden supplies and a mason jar of moonshine. I love my life. I also love the vision of drinking out of said mason jar and talking to fairies. Oh what a fantastic (though surprisingly accurate) picture that would give to my new neighbors! 

The moonshine has been brought out as a communal offering (tempered with ginger ale) and distributed to any neighbors coming and going to sit down and bemoan their hard work week. After crawling back to our respective establishments, we formed a somewhat tighter bond and thus paved the way for Debauchery-ville. 

Debauchery-ville is my neighbor's and my view of what our fairy village would be like. Mine started out with a pub. Since the rest of the world has not caught on to our fabulous idea, I cannot for the life of me find a drunken fairy or gnome. I will have to settle for sleeping fairies and hope it translates. My neighbour has opted for the gypsy camp and decided to hide a bunch of witches behind an innocent welcoming sign. 

Next up on her list is to add a few more caravans and a chicken coop. Next on my list is to add a distillery, brothel, and possibly opium den. My sister, though shaking her head and mentally rolling her eyes heavenward, is on the lookout for all fairies and gnomes that might be up to no good. Is it wrong that I am so into this??? 

Apparently, the idea is catching on because one of our Home Owner's Assoc. boards decided to include us on their garden tours. It looks like there are a lot more sick puppies out there than you thought.