Guess Who's Going to Dinner...

The Plan: "Walking Away" from James and his other women is working splendidly. I had decided (with a little pep talk from my dad) it was the best course of action because it would just seem like meddling any other way and sometimes you've gotta keep that karma moving in a positive direction.

The Snag: last Monday, during one of Crazy Dan's confessions of undying love to me, I suggested he check out a profile on Match.com (of the colonel James has been spending time with - due mostly to her house in Hawaii, I'm sure).

Tonight? Crazy Dan and James' Colonel are having margarita's at a local Mexican restaurant, while I had a date with the sweetest widower, but accidentally told him to meet me at a restaurant in the next town, 20 miles away. Lovable, I am.


A Tale of 3 Ex's

Approximately 10,000 people work on my military installation. James wouldn’t tell me which airfield he’d recently been transferred to (see? why be so secretive if you have nothing to hide? I'm that crazy?), but did mention his supervisor’s supervisor was my ex-boyfriend Christian. Where art thou, vindictive soul?

One of my biggest fears in life is my son Patrick getting married, and not having a date (me, not him. He’ll have a wife, poor thing. Her, not him). I imagine myself standing around, socially awkward, getting drunk and belligerent, while Patrick’s dad and new wife look over and whisper about what a lonely, fat loser I am.* I met ex-boyfriend Dalehole last week for dinner while he was in town for 2 weeks worth of training. He could barely stop talking about his new girlfriend long enough, but I reminded him of our deal involving his being my amazing date for this future wedding disaster. He reassured me that NO MATTER WHAT, he will fly in and be my hot date. I can only hope the deal includes fake affection, whispered inside jokes and hand-holding, woo!

*people wonder what insomniacs think of at 3:00 in the morning? This is the kind of boundless crap running rampant!

A few weeks ago, Crazy Dan dropped off a chilled bottle of wine on my doorstep. I didn’t have his phone number after all the drama with Lise (I think she hit him in the eye with his phone, then tossed it out in the woods), but emailed him to let him know it was sweet. I was seeing someone now, though, and not to bother in the future. He emailed back, telling me not to flatter myself then called me a whore. What am I missing from this exchange?

Sometimes I’m relieved I was married for fifteen years. Imagine all the baggage I’d have if not…


Modus Operandi

I suspected there was a Blogger curse on my relationships, since they kept failing shortly after I'd write about them. James was supposed to come over last night, but blew me off instead and posted his profile back on "our" dating site. I also found out that one of the other women he's seeing is the 48 year old Garrison Commander of our post! I refuse to call him or see him again.

7 things I couldn't stand about him, anyway:

1. he continued to pursue other women but insisted he couldn't trust me

2. he has a motorcycle, and his car has been having electrical difficulties. I let him borrow mine last week when I was in Mississippi on business - and he put over 150 miles on it. In two days?!

3. he told me I looked like a librarian/school marm. I also started working out and lost eight pounds since meeting him. Couldn't he have given me an "atta girl" or at least noticed?

4. he remembers everything. Even when drinking. 'Nuff said.

5. I don't claim to be particularly funny or interesting, but he didn't "get" me or find me amusing in the least. I asked if he was planning my assassination when he asked about medication I was taking. "That's what I mean," he said. "You're just so fucking weird and out there."

6. we never emailed. He found my thought processes too strange (see above). I no longer find his misuse of apostrophes or atrocious spelling endearing.

7. he smokes*

*okay, technically, this is a turn on. I'm probably the only non-smoker who loves those Marlboro men...it's comforting. Like curling up next to a campfire. Sparks included.

Why, then, can't I get him out of my head?


Reptilian Dating

I’ve blog-slacked so long, failing to report legal battles, head injuries, and dating drama, that it will require a bulleted outline before attempting to get caught up. I should probably separate my life into categories, then update one at a time so it doesn’t seem like such an overwhelming chore. Which reminds me of the version of Quicken on the imac my dad gave me. In his “Budgeted Anarchy” file are separate categories for drinking, such as “alcohol in the cabin”, “alcohol from the grocery store” and “alcohol at the bar”. Really? Can’t you just clump it all together under a general BEER FUND? The distinctions make me laugh, though, and help me realize and understand that my brain quirks have simply been passed down as a trait, like those infinitely long toes that are somehow helping future natural selection.

Anyway, to the topic for today: James. The on-again/off-again boyfriend/guy I hang out with, who makes me suspicious and pissed off simply by sleeping. Over the past three months, we’ve had a bit o’ drama, some ups and downs, crazy stalking behavior, blackouts and shady dating busts. The good news is I didn’t realize I’d ever obsess about another man after Ed – now it appears as though the track in my brain that gets stuck on replay has been split. This IS great, right? Because there’s a saying in my field: dilution is the solution to pollution. Less Ed, more James, overall improved mental health. At least comes the realization that (twisted) emotions are still brewing and stewing in this previously cold, dark, frigid heart. Bring it, suckah!

About three months ago, James moved from Michigan to a nearby town in SE Alabama. We met on an online dating site, had the standard dinner and drinking dates, and spent two weekends together. I couldn’t help but notice (when prying) that his dating profile was still active and he was signing in daily, so I created another profile, with fraudulent information and some other woman’s photo. “She” happened to start a conversation with him, emailing and acting interested. Okay, fine, technically this is called entrapment, but it worked. He complimented her smile, she invited him to meet a group of friends in Dothan, and he mentioned it sounded like fun. He works 3rd shift (10 pm - 6 am) and told me that he might have to work overtime that weekend, which I can only assume was a lie so he could meet the date. Freak Out #1 of our blossoming friendship. I never want to start a relationship on false pretensses and spilled the beans regarding the sting operation instead. What he took out of the experience? Never trust me again, and how many personalities do I have, anyway?

We've somehow gotten along and broken up several times since, but when James mentioned he had to work overtime again last Saturday night, I had no choice but to dump him. By Sunday, I was obsessively back to searching for all things James-related on the world's dating sites...and called him 15 times before he wisely turned off his phone. I deleted his phone number and was forced to grab flip flops to wear with my nightgown to drive to his house at 1:30 in the morning to apologize.

I don't know if all Italian men are so shady or if I lucked into the only one, but this relationship is going to end badly, probably one day soon if I have anything to do with it.