Holiday time is looming. Party invitations are arriving, events are begging to be attended, white-lit trees beckon to be strolled under hand-in-hand at night. Lit up store windows yearn to be gazed upon, gifts call out to be exchanged, hot cocoa spiked with peppermint Schnapps wants to be shared by two from a single mug. Alas, the only sharing of beverages I have going on right now is with my two sons, and I try to avoid that like the plague due to backwash issues.
This is my first holiday season alone in fifteen years. Yup. And by alone, of course, I mean single as I have the two boys (and two dogs, and two guinea pigs, and the strange urge to start building an ark). It’s a little sad. But then, I’d rather be alone than with some of the freakshow motherfuckers that are out there on Match.com. Holy mother of God, people.
I joined Match.com in the initial days after my separation in an attempt to irk my ex. That worked out well. Anywho, I kept the profile up even though I wasn’t really ready to even think about dating. I’m also not the type of person to make the first move. Despite my thorough NotJune-ness, I’m old-fashioned in my dating ideas (apparently). Then, as I was about to hide my profile, I got a great email. From a nice guy. Divorced, dad of two, who actually saw his kids. We emailed, texted, talked on the phone. All seemed promising, despite his comments that he could only invest in a coffee date as 20 minutes was enough time to know if things were going to go well or not (ding ding: that would be the warning signal I ignored). Soon before our coffee date, I told him that I’d gained 30 lbs. due to steroids from an illness but was in the process of losing it. Our connection? Our great talks? Similar everything? Gone in a single email of “Sorry. No fatties.” Sigh. (Ugh, and he had a weird hairline too but I was totally willing to overlook that.)
And he turned out to be the top of the heap. A typical Match.com email goes like this:
Him: Hey.
Me: Hi.
Him: So, what’s up.
Me. Um, nothing. What’s up with you?
Him: So, what would you wear on a date with me? Describe everything.
Me: (No longer responding but mentally answering “Pepper spray and a traceable cell phone.”)
I think part of the problem is Los Angeles. If I had my way I’d sign up on the Match sites for San Francisco, NYC, Boston or Chicago, all places where I feel more at home than in than my hometown (although Chicago hasn’t worked out so great for Oprah, so maybe just the first three). But in the grand tradition of Oprah, I’m putting it out to the universe. My friend offered to start Project Prince Charming for me, but royal men who live with their mothers isn’t what I’m after either, even if he has his own horse (pets are always a plus).
Are you ready? A NORMAL GUY. Nice. Respectable citizen. Charitable. Not attached to his smartphone, work or clients at all hours. Likes kids (I’d say loves kids, but hell even I don’t love my own kids all the time). Happy with what he has, even if he’d like more one day. Sense of humor (preferably slightly warped, dare I dream). Fun. Funny. Attractive to me and me attractive to him. If he can fix the t.v. and kill spiders, all the better, but even those aren’t deal breakers. Someone who’s content? That is. I’ve had the ritz and the glitz. I just want happy now. Is that too much to ask for Christmas?
Char, I am so sorry to hear about your experience! In your case, I’m a big believer in probably warning the new girlfriend. If it’s extreme and safety issues are at play, then warning is a good thing and, perhaps, even your moral duty if it involves the safety of, say, your children. (Like my friend’s husband who is now in jail for molesting her daughter. Yes, he had priors!) I am NOT an attorney or police officer but your restraining order is with him, not her. I would think that you should be able to contact her, if not in person, perhaps a neutral third party. My (now ex) husband’s ex wife tried to warn me about him, so did his daughter. I blew them both off. My husband (then fiancé) told me that his ex wife was just jealous of me and us, and she was a crazy, insane, mean and hateful bitch. When she called me and talked to me, I immediately thought “liar, crazy woman who is trying to make us unhappy.” I wish I had listened. Trust me, I’ve learned. I have now had one ex talk to me about a guy I was dating. Guess what? I listened and I believed and I dumped the guy. Turns out, everything she was saying was spot-on accurate. Be SAFE. Ask an attorney or call the police when in doubt. But as far as the restraining order, there isn’t one with her so I don’t see why you can’t have contact. That said, be cautious. If your ex might retaliate against you, that is a huge concern. YOUR safety first! Best of luck. Hang in there. You escaped and survived. Now you get to heal and rebuild. That can be incredibly exciting.