Scared for the one I love….

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It’s weird. I always try and keep my blogs about my current life and funny.  Because, well, generally my life is always a hot mess pretty fucking funny. Let’s face it, the last few years have not been easy on me (or my grey hair for that matter), but you know what, your ex-husband gets engaged to his mistress you realize you are WAY fucking stronger than you ever thought, you get through.  You just do…. First and foremost for me, is always my minimuffin tops (shout out to my fellow fat kids)….. They are really my whole heart and soul.  They remind me the things I am good at (laundry) and the things I am not (cooking, Bigs told me the other night his dinner smelled like “Beaver food” which brings in the question “You eat fucking beaver food dude?”)…..  Anyholla.

I knew, in my heart, I knew I would never be ready for these upcoming weeks, but now, I just have this heaviness in my heart and pit in my stomach (it’s not even because I am hungry, which I always am)….. #peewee is starting school….. Interesting fact, he has actually gone to a “special needs” program for 3 years now.  Three fucking years.  When he started, he couldn’t speak.  He couldn’t walk up stairs. Couldn’t even consider walking down stairs. He couldn’t run.  Well, now, he doesn’t shut up, he has a candor about him when he speaks that is nothing short of hysterical, does not even consider holding my hand walking up stairs, and actually runs (although, he sort of looks like a cartoon character when he does, still)…..

But here I am, filling out his back to school paperwork, for him to go to a different school than his brother, because as amazing as our town is, they can’t service him with his needs in district…. So, the little puff pastry will go into a class with 15 other kiddos he doesn’t know.  He will be “that kid” you know, the one who has his own teacher, because he still can’t write, he can’t hold a pencil, he can’t go to the bathroom alone, he gets confused. He’s scared.

Selfishly, I’m scared.  I’m so scared.  I’m proud of him that when he was able to run, he no longer had to wear braces on his legs.  I’m proud of him that he hardly has to use sign language to speak to me anymore.  I’m proud of him that he can try and play with other kids.  I’m so scared.  I know he’s different.  His brother knows he’s different. Deep down inside, I feel it in my heart that even he knows he is different. So I lay awake at night, scared. Scared he will get picked on more than he already does.  Scared more people will ask “What’s wrong with him.” (Sidebar, props to me for not cold clocking the bitch outside of Dunks the other day who asked me that, I just said “Him, nothing, you, appears as though quite a bit is.”).

So, as I fill out his paperwork, I wonder questions that no parent should ever have to wonder.  Will he be able to go on field trips? Will he go to gym class? Will music class be too loud for him? Will someone help him carry his pizza to his desk on pizza day? How am I going to get him to understand that his beloved “guys” can’t go to this school, and that there is no “school boo” to snuggle if he gets scared? What will happen if he needs me, but doesn’t know how to say it? Mostly, what happens when he gets picked on?  Because he already does. And I know he will.  Just because he is different.  He doesn’t love any less, he likes the same things as other 5 year old boys, but he is different. And different isn’t “cool.” What will happen now? What will happen in one year, or three or five?

So my beloved friends and family, if (when) I am bitchy (ier) than I normally am, it’s just because I am scared.

 

To my potential suitors, don’t call me mommy. Ever.

A few weeks ago, I was with a friend of mine, and she was really encouraging me to actually TRY to make dating work.  Look, I know it may seem like my life is a shitshow, but it actually really is. Wait, did I say that wrong? Yes.  Yes, it is a shit show.  TBH, I didn’t think dating would be hard AT ALL. Then, well, then I realized “I have NO fucking idea what I want.”  So far, I have done a pretty ok job of figuring out what I DON’T want. This weekend, the minimuffintops were elsewhere, and I was like “Know what, I am going to reply to these messages I get and see what happens!”

Enter in Friday night.  Out with a BF for drinks / dins/ drinks / hangovers / lack of sleep. When I notice I get a message on my phone from a really handsome guy! (sidebar, I have a very strict “putchafuckinphoneaway” rule when with friends. I swear, you are not missing anything. I am right here).  Point being, it actually was weird for me to see a message.

We banter back and forth for a bit and OMG, he is funny too!  So, we invite him to meet us for a drink. I really hope you don’t think this ends in a love story, I’m not that kind of gal.  He meets us at the bar, and I SHIT YOU FUCKING NOT HE STARTS FUCKING SINGING SHOW TUNES.  YOU CAN’T MAKE THIS UP.  It was literally like “Tooomorrow, toooomorrow, I lovya, tomorrow.”THERE WERE HAND MOTIONS! You know those sort of waving, double hand wave motion. Yup.  That was happening.

It gets worse, I am not kidding, it actually gets worse.  I sent this text to one of those few people in your life, you can give them a 3 second overview, and they actually know everything that happened.

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Yup.  That happened. And I literally was like “No, that’s so cool when 39 year old guys live at home, not weird at all.”

But, I was like “Nara, come on, try and be positive, everyone doesn’t live at home.” (Right, like amirite?). So gosh darn it, I was going to open these messages and meet some of these not totally weird, not living in their mom’s basement guys! I fucking crack myself up.

First things first…. I seem to attract younger guys, like,” I could get arrested for buying alcohol for minors” younger.

There was this guy.  Now, I also have to share a few points from his profile, because Handsome_Walt could NOT be more into himself. “Unrepentant hedonist” (what is that? Is that when you are naked all the time?) “Recovering alcoholic” (oh, clearly we are a match). “Willing to defend my beliefs to the death as well as yours.” I AM SORRY WHAT? WHAT THE ACTUAL WHAT? “I’m really good at gunfighting.” OK, not “Shooting at the range” gunfighting? Who the fuck are you fighting Handsome_Walt? Favorite books: “War Movies.” Wait, what? Is “War movies” a book? Things I can’t live without “Suits, guns, coffee and women.” OK, ok Walt, you are TWENTY FUCKING EIGHT. Believe me, you can, in fact, live without suits.  You can. On a typical Friday night I am  “Trolling for scumbags.” THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING. I sent this message back.

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By this point, as you can imagine, I was really feeling like things were going pretty well.  I mean, I was 0/2 so statistically speaking, I was…. Wait. Wrong way with the numbers.

Small sampling of some of the other really great messages I got.

At least this guy came right out and said it.

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I just don’t, don’t do pet names. I also don’t do “ello.” Did you save that much time not typing the  “H”

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But look, I went from a 21% match, to a 0% match, to a 44% match (do you really need more than 44?)…. .So things HAD to be looking up.

I suppose they were looking up if you are into 15 year age gaps (I mean, give or take, let’s not be picky).

His profile says he is looking for single women between 18-28.  So math is a strong point on this one. Noted.

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Is this one old enough to say “Sexy”….. I feel like “no” is the correct answer to that.

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WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE????  Does everyone have mommy complex? Sidebar to my potential suitors, don’t, just don’t call me mommy.  Ok?

AND WHAT THE FUCK ARE 27 YEAR OLDS DOING ON DATING WEBSITES??? Go to a bar, go do ANYTHING.  You do that shit when you are old like me.

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At this point, I was ready to throw in the ole towel, but was saved by this gem. Yup.This is my life.

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Imma stock up on cat food and wine.

 

Sausage fingers.

For starters….  I just feel like we all need to clear the air on something.  Yes, I blog. No, it isn’t about you… Don’t be so vain.  You think if I didn’t sign on the dotted line to write a book about the Former Mr. Nara for cold hard cash, that I am going to write about the potential Future Mr. Nara??? I say this, because I get a lot of inquiries that go something like this:

  1. If you won’t write about me, I want to date you
  2. If you won’t write about my friend, I will introduce you
  3. If you promise TO write about me, I want to date you

The fuck?  THE ACTUAL FUCK? Ah, I said I am not writing about Mr. Nara now not, “ever.”. Just gotta wait for that court order to be lifted.  Anyjolla.

Anyway, just needed to get that out there….. So, here we are again, recapping my hot sexy dates….. There have been so many it is actually hard to keep track… Did that sound real? Yes?

Some updates, because I have been a biiizzee lil beaver.  OMG, don’t get gross. I dumped Tinder.  I feel like there is legit not a single person on there who is not crazy.  Wait, maybe I should be on there?  Maybe Tinder IS my thing????  I have spent a TON to time thinking that my expectations are WAY too high…. So, I took a look at my ole Bumble profile….. Ready….. Because this is ACTUALLY what it says. Oh, and be sure to send me your edits / enhancements.

Me: Was married for 10 years, but decided online dating seemed more fun.  Have a great job, beautiful home and 2 mini-me’s.  I am super skeptical of online dating, but having trouble meeting “the one” when sitting at home watching Bravo TV.  You: don’t play Pokemon go.

Honestly, my only expectation is that you don’t play fucking Pokemon? THAT IS IT? I didn’t even put in there “please have a job and not live in mom’s basement” because apparently I don’t even give a shit about that anymore?????? My best friend in the entire world keeps telling me to slow the fuck down. (I don’t know why?)…… But then I realize my expectation is just that you don’t glue your phone to your hand???  To backtrack.  Mr. Nara 1.0 moved on FAST.  Like, SO FAST that we were still happily married when he moved on. Wait, I should prolly omit the “happily.” But her point is, don’t settle for some DB who lives in moms basement.

So then, I went through some of my “matches” and what their profiles said, really analyzing them…..

First, EVERY guy puts their height on there….. So I am starting to be concerned that my total lack of height is going to be a problem. Is it too late for those growth drugs? Or, that I am going to end up with a guy who is the same height as me. And that is a nope.

Second, I noticed that quite a few people take selfies in some filthy setting or sitting on furniture from 1968. Not kidding, so if you are supposed to “show” what you like, these people like burlap and dishes.  Noted.

Third – Is there a SINGLE – LITERALLY – Single fucking guy out there who doesn’t fall into one of these categories:  1. A pilot, 2. Into rock climbing (can’t make this up), 3. Shirtless, 4. Rides a motorcycle, 5. Says “no drama” (sidebar, you ARE drama, if you are saying “no drama”)

Fourth – The expectations of people are really a bit weird (not “weird” like “don’t play pokemon”) but like a little creepy.  Expectations I have seen:

  • must have long hair
  • must act like a lady at ALL times
  • must be petite and VERY fit
  • must be ready to be a woman

To which I respond:

  • only if you pull it
  • what does a lady do ALL the time
  • very fit? but, but you, are not very fit at ALL.
  • as opposed to?????

And last, there is this whole new level of sexuality out there now. I don’t mean like the profile is like “I like sex” No, that would be way too easy, I mean, I have to google this shit.  And not from my work laptop.  Androgynyous, Androphillic, bicurious, intersex.  Ok, look, I am a “be who you want to be person” but at least make it easy for me and say what it means… Because, guess what, “intersex” doesn’t mean “intosex”  Made that mistake once.

Then, went through some of the messages I have gotten:

Today 12:21am

Hi my name is Chuck how’re are u?

Today – 9:20 am

Morning. How’re was your night?

Well Chuck, I am not sure what you do for those hours between MIDNIGHT and 9am, but shit sure got crazy around this fucking joint.  The first thing I did, was work on basic grammar and spelling, you?

I should mention that “chucks” name on this site is “ihave1hummer2”  Anyway you look at that, it’s fucked up.

Chris2phaa (am I the only one who wonders what that means?) said “ello punkin, how u?” WHAT FUCKING SCHOOL DID YOU ALL COME FROM????

From X2mcx2 “Into younger guys? You’re beautiful.” HE IS NINETEEN… NINE + TEN. Isn’t that illegal????

From ResMedian “Best profile in the business, but I hate dogs, but you have some kick ass lines.”  I asked him to marry me. He disabled his account.  Too much?

From Arthur045, WHO, I might mention is a 12% match….. “Hi goodmorning sweetheart how are you sweetie so beautiful.”  Is this an actual thing?  This can’t spell, run on sentences?  Like, are people like “OMG Arthur045, take me out now and talk to me in runons.”  Is that what I have to look forward too?  I’m not saying 1.0 was all that smart but jesus.

Brendan, 39 – “Hi, I don’t eat bread.”  I’m sorry, now I just think I am getting fucking punked.

BillieBoris (which is it, Billy or Boris?) – What award did the police give you? (On the picture of me getting sworn in)…. So close Billdo.

Cas_09 “Hi there how are you? Stopping by to say hi. Can we be friends?”

Stopping by where Cas?  My profile? You stop there? That doesn’t even make sense?

 

So then, some quick stats.

Opening messages that I comment on a dog, 2.  Responses that the dog died, 2.

Messages from men CLEARLY wearing wedding rings: 5

Times I have swiped “Yep” when I meant “no no”: uncountable.  Literally.  Sausage fingers.

Times my phone has defaulted my location to New Orleans: 3

Guys who were totally 2.0 material BUT based in NO: 3

And a few discoveries:

I attract MUCH younger men. I am very concerned about cougar / mommy complex at this stage of the game

I gravitate toward people who have animals in their profile pictures.  I actually “yupped” a guy holding a bunny.  Truth.

I notice that people change their age constantly.  There is a guy I know who has gone from 37 to 49 in just a few days.

So, I suppose I will just keep up with my real life.  You know, the life when Bigs tells all of his friends I am a professional bacon tester, and pee wee has so much speech therapy he speaks like an exchange student.  No really “Oh, heeeo. You, you, lok beatfil on this day.”  Thanks Hong Li. I mean, pee wee. You know, our normal life, when pee wee goes and JUMPS OFF THE DIVING BOARD ONLY FUCKER CAN’T SWIM.  Our life when Bigs is like “I will only answer you if you talk to me in a dog voice.” And I do. Yea, that life.