What are you doing New Year's Eve??????

This seems to be the question I've been asked by nearly every man I'm talking to. Whether they are old friends or new acquaintances, the question is the same, "What are you doing New Year's Eve?

Since I don't want to appear too eager for a date, and since I really don't care one way or another, I tell them I have a few options; I'm either babysitting or going to a party.

Now, I'm not really lying because my son usually has a party and I'm sure I could crash it. I also have two grand daughters and I'm sure I could babysit them. I just don't want to commit to anything right now since I'm really hoping to spend that evening with the man I'm casually dating. However, he's in the hospital right now with pneumonia, so it's looking rather doubtful.

I don't know why, but my inbox has been pretty busy lately with new emails from interested men. I don't know if there is a panic the closer it gets to the end of the year or if it's just that I'm looking cute (which is what I'd like to think) but the men are coming out of the woodwork.

Earlier in this dating game, I would have been flattered with all the attention, but now I'm just getting tired of it. I don't know what it's so hard to find a good match, but it is. I have to have the right amount of chemistry, I have to laugh a lot with the person, and I have to be able to have a good conversation and an easiness about myself with them.

With all of the sudden interest in me, I figure it must be due to the holidays. No one must want to be alone. I don't know why, but I'm fine with it. It's all overwhelming to me, so a few days of peaceful tv watching and a little visit here and there is perfect. If I end up spending New Year's alone, it won't be the first time and I'm sure it won't be the last.

The holidays are almost over, so I might as well enjoy the rush of interest while I can. The future may bring a dry spell for me. But then again, there's always Valentine's day!

Dating someone with a disability

I've recently started to date someone whom I'm very fond of who has a disability. It's the kind of disability that will progress until he is confined to a wheelchair.

I certainly did not go looking for someone who is disabled. I wasn't really aware of his disability while we chatted on line. I knew I was attracted to him and really wanted to meet him. On our first coffee date he told me that he had Ataxia. Ataxia is a brain disease of the cerebellum. Much like other, better-known diseases of the nervous system such as Parkinson's, Alzheimer's, and Lou Gehrig's disease, it progressively impacts and then consumes the functions of the affected region of the brain.

As I listened to this 6'4", 275 pound man explain ataxia to me, I felt some hesitation in wanting to know him more. But by the end of the night, after laughing at his crazy jokes and looking into his sparkling blue eyes, I knew we had a connection and I wanted to see him again.

So we have begun dating and it's been exciting and fun. We make each other laugh; he's extremely sensitive and romantic. His disability shows itself in his pattern of speech, and his coordination. But that's it. He is smart, romantic, strong and caring.

We've shared some tender moments too. We both experienced the death of a loved one through cancer. When we've exchanged stories of the pain and suffering our dear ones experienced, we both cried and held hands.

The two of us enjoy each other's company and, although we are not exclusive, we see each other a lot. I think it is probably best if we continue to date other people for awhile. I know it will keep me grounded if I do. He is afraid of the future himself. He doesn't want to burden his partner with the inevitable.

I've found out that I'm a "live for the moment" type of woman. I realized this many years ago after we buried my father, who died at 57. He always worried about the future, what would it bring and where would it lead.

So, I don't really regard the future too much. Other than trying to better myself mentally, physically and financially, I don't fret about things I have no control over. So I've decided to enjoy the journey with this man I'm dating. We may tire of each other next week or still be together in a year.

Friends and family ask why I would get involved with someone disabled. I reply that we all have some kind of disability in one form or another. I explained that it would be shallow of me to think that this person isn't worth dating because he has Ataxia.

Each moment I've spent with this man has been a positive and uplifting experience. He may have difficulty picking up a quarter and he swaggers when he walks, but I've gained so much in such a short time from knowing him.

He has a joyful attitude towards life, a determination to remain strong, and a passion about good health. He's motivated me to work harder on myself, because if this man, with such a grave disability, can laugh and smile each day, there are no excuses for me.

The purpose of this blog was for me to share my dating experiences at a stage in my life where I'm closing in on the senior days. I'm 54 years old and unless I meet Hercules, the men I date are going to have challenges in one form or another.

If they can accept my challenges, then I can accept theirs.


~ Disability is a matter of perception. If you can do just one thing well, you're needed by someone. Martina Navratilova

Am I getting too picky in my old age?

The fact that I haven't posted in a month doesn't mean my dating experiences have come to a screeching halt. It's just the contrary, in fact. I've been going out so much I haven't had time to blog.

First things first. Don't be jealous. Each date I go on is an adventure in confusion, excitement, doubt, anticipation, frustration, hope and disappointment. Not necessarily in that order, except the end, disappointment. I would much rather have a significant other to love and cherish me. But, until that happens, I need to keep fishing in this sea of men.

There is something I've discovered about myself though that interests me. I think I'm getting fussier as I get older. I used to joke that my criteria for finding a man was to be clean, have a job and have all his teeth.

But I've broadened that criteria a bit. For instance, I can't tolerate smoking. I don't want to be around someone who lights up a cigarette, pipe or pot. I also don't want to date someone who abuses alcohol. A few drinks is fine, but I don't want to watch the transformation of a sober man into a drunk. I refuse to.

I don't care too much for ignorance either. The type of ignorance I'm speaking of is not if he's book smart or schooled (bonus) but if he is ignorant about life, people, cultures, etc. Someone whom I'm dating and am attracted to has shown his bigoted side. This really bothers me. Another man uses the most politically incorrect terminology to describe ethnic food and people that I think I'm out on a date with Archie Bunker.

I can't handle liars or braggers. If a man spends 1/2 hour talking about how many watches he owns and how much each one costs, then he is too superficial for me.

A lot of men my age ride Harleys, which I have no intention of climbing on, so that eliminates about 50% of the population of single men.

If I'm out with a man, he needs to focus his attention on me. Checking out other women and making little comments shows me how little he respects me. When that happens, I can feel myself turning into ice.

I've also found that I want someone who just wants me and that's where this task becomes difficult. Sometimes I click with a man and he clicks with me, but it's never enough for the two of us. Due to the bounty of single people on line, I believe that we all are looking for something better to appear. So even if we find someone we like and get along with, sometimes it's not enough.

I know I can't have someone in my life just to have someone in my life. It's got to be deeper, more meaningful and lasting. I'd rather be alone or just continue this dating game. As I've said before, I'm not ready to turn into the crazy cat lady just yet. I do have hope that I'll find the man that's good for me.

Notice how I did not say the perfect man. He doesn't exist, nor does the perfect woman. I understand that completely and so I don't really care about looks as much as I do about personality. If he drives an older car, I don't care. His profession doesn't matter to me either, as long as he supports himself. He needs to be honest, funny, and romantic. His hands need to be clean and he has to smell good.

As for the teeth, he has to have at least most of them.

Can you really be friends with an ex?

I had to learn the hard way this past week that even though it seems mature and civilized to stay friends with an ex, it really takes time and lots of healing to get there. At least for me it does.

I recently had dinner with my ex. We broke up 6 months ago, and although I've been doing fine, when I see him, it stirs up old memories and feelings and I end up being confused and hurt.

With all the things there are to talk about, he brought up the topic of who he was dating, telling me about her income and that he enjoyed being with her. This stung me and I tried to play it off casually and mentioned someone I was talking to. I tried to be mature and smile and be happy for him, but it was impossible. I had an overwhelming feeling of sadness and I got a little choked up. He too seemed a little emotional and I took it as feelings that he still cared.

All in all the dinner was enjoyable and we had a nice time, but I left confused. Later I sent him an email asking if there was a way we could work it out, and although I know that feeling stemmed from my sadness, and it's probably the best that we are apart. When I'm feeling emotionally strong, I'm fine with the break up. But, it is obviously too early to start hanging out and trading dating stories.

My ex mentioned that although it was difficult, there was no going back and that we needed to move on. He thought it would be possible to remain friends, but not if I couldn't move on. His reasons were selfish he said.

I think what is most selfish is when someone doesn't want to entirely give up someone, yet they don't want to pursue them either. He told me he always wanted me in his life. But as a friend.

So what's the point? To trade stories of who we are seeing? To mourn the passing of our relationship? If a person has a soft spot in their heart for me, but they don't want to work hard enough to make it work, what is the point? I don't need a long list of ex lovers as friends. It has rarely worked for me.

Maybe in the future, when I've gone completely crazy for someone else, I could be friends with my ex. But, then, maybe my new love wouldn't see the point in it either.

It's a small world

How small the world is was never so apparent to me till just a few days ago.

About a month or 6 weeks ago, a young man started to write to me from the dating site I'm on.

His first email began, "Hi, What's shaking?"

I laughed when I read it then proceeded to his profile to see who is was. He had more pictures than information, but I found out he was 28 years old. He was cute, intense, and serious. His hair was dark and shaggy. In no picture did he smile. His profession stated RX.

At first I intended on ignoring the email. But, looking for fodder for my blog, I replied. Thus began some quirky on-line correspondence. The first thing I told this "boy" was that I was 54 years old. I informed him that he was older than my youngest, but that I had two children older than him.

He told me he didn't care. He said I was interesting, intriguing and beautiful. Ok, so I fell for it. Who wouldn't want to hear it, especially from a young man. After a few weeks of emailing and on-line chatting, my young admirer asked me to call him. (to make this easier, I'm going to call him B***** B***** or BB for short. Maybe it was boredom, maybe curiosity that made me dial his number. BB answered in a soft, shy voice. Several times during our on-line chats I questioned him about his interest in me. I asked him if he and his friends were playing a joke on me. I told him I was old and overweight, but he reminded me that he thought I was gorgeous.

Once a week BB called me and quietly talked to me. He tried to talk romantically to me and sometimes awkward innuendos will slip from his lips. It's very cute and more entertaining than tv. I'm always straight with him and I try to draw it out of him, why he would waste his time talking to me, but he insists he likes me. A few times he sweetly told me that he thinks about me all of the time and that he felt like he was falling in love. In my straightforward manner, I told him he couldn't possibly fall in love with a stranger, especially one that could be as old as his mom. Maybe he's anti social, maybe he's bored too, but no one is hurting in this situation and I guarantee nothing will come of it.

BB and I spoke last Sunday, and on Monday I went to the Dr. for some swelling and weight gain that was probably due to menopause. She wrote me a prescription and I headed off to my local discount store to get it filled. It's where I get a few other prescriptions taken care of.

As I walked up to the counter, I saw two men standing behind the counter and one looked oddly familiar to me.

"He must have waited on me," I thought to myself. In fact, I know that he had helped me before, but this recognition felt different.

I suddenly thought of BB. Then I remembered RX on his profile.

"There's no way, " I whispered.

Luckily, the other pharmacist decided to help me. BB glanced over at me and our eyes locked for a second. Then he turned and continued counting pills or whatever it was he was doing.

There's a partition by the counter that separates pick up and drop off, so I stood close to the partition, blocking my view. I still wasn't sure if it was BB but I wasn't going to take any chances. It was all too weird for me. Maybe he would think I was stalking him. Maybe he would be embarrassed. I know I was embarrassed. If this guy had been fantasizing that I was some hot, sexy cougar, I just blew his fantasy out of the water. Even though he'd seen my pictures on my profile, my look on this day was swollen, menopausal grandmother.

I looked over at the wall while the man who was waiting on me gathered some information from me. When he asked me my name, I barely whispered it. My heart was pounding in my chest and I wanted to just grab the prescription and dash out of the store. But instead, I kept myself close to the partition. I then noticed on the wall to my right, the names of the pharmacists and their degrees. There, beneath them all, was a large certificate with the words, Pharmacist Technician, B*****B*****.

As soon as I could, I flew out of that store as fast as my bad knees could take me. A few days later BB called me and I realized he was totally unaware that I had seen him and vice versa.

"I wish I could meet you, " he whispered.

Little does he know that we've already met.

Now I'm off to take my medication, rub ben gay on my knees, dye my white roots, and apply anti aging cream to my wrinkles.

Dancing Grannies and Gramps

Saturday nights can sometimes be the worst night when you are single. At least, for me they are.

It's not that I mind staying home, or being alone, it's just that I sometimes get bored and I want to be around people. Especially people my own age.

On Saturday morning I surfed around the internet and found that a single's dance was happening in Redford that evening. I've been to this dance in the past and figured I'd check it out, maybe dance, and maybe meet some new friends.

I started getting ready at around 7 by taking a shower, blow drying my hair and putting on my makeup. I then squeezed into a one size too small pair of dress pants. I slipped on about 5 different shirts before I found one that I really felt good in. Then, to make sure I looked nice, I took some pictures of myself with the timer on the camera. (I have no full length mirror.) As soon as I saw the first picture, I went into the bedroom and changed into a different pair of pants, and a new shirt and jacket.

The dance started at 8 so I left my house at 8:10 since I was only 10 minutes away.

The parking lot seemed full as I approached the hall and I was optimistic that I might have some fun.

It is very difficult to walk into a single's event by myself so I sat in my car for a few minutes and talked to myself, spewing out some affirmations. I sounded like Stuart Smalley from Saturday Night Live who used to say I'm Good Enough, I'm Smart Enough, and Doggone It, People Like Me!.

Only my affirmation was, "Some people are fatter than you, some are thinner, some are uglier, some are prettier. Just go in and have fun. Screw em!"

That is probably the saddest, least affirming statements I could say, but it helped me muster up the courage to walk into the doors.

What I saw as I paid my $10 was a sad group of people, sitting in a brightly lit church gym, watching free dance lessons being held on the dance floor.

Ugh. It was the worst ambiance I've ever seen for a dance. I found a table close to the dance floor. This wasn't difficult as most of the seats were empty. I then watched the dance lessons and pretended to text someone on my phone.

I tried not too look around the room too much, but I was interested in seeing what was there.
Even though I'm 54, I'm sure I was the youngest woman there. I also decided I was one of the cutest. Still, it wouldn't matter, as most of the men there reminded me of my late father-in-law who died at the age of 94.

Sometimes it is hard for me to realize that I'm almost ready to start asking for a senior discount. Next year, I can move into a senior center if I want. But, right now I'm still feeling young. Last year I went to see The Cure. I like Pearl Jam, Foo Fighters and Linkin Park. I own a pair of black and hot pink tennis shoes and I like cotton candy flavored bubble gum. Most of my friends are under the age of 38 and they forget that I'm 54 (except when I complain about my knees or my wrinkles.) Thirty year old men send me emails asking me if I like younger men and I flirt back with them, telling them that I do. If I don't know a popular term I look it up in the urban dictionary and I know how to text.

Yet, here I was at a dance and the most current song the dj played was "Boogie Wonderland" by Earth Wind and Fire. I suffered through song after song waiting for something current, but when I heard him play, "The last Farewell" by Roger Whittaker, I gave up all hope of hearing anything I liked.

I hate to be cynical, but just because we listened to "Shout" when we were kids doesn't mean we have to relive it when we are in our 50s. There's been a million good songs written since, but I guess the DJ was stuck in a time warp himself.

I was just thinking about leaving when the song "Lady in Red" came on. Even though I dislike this song, someone tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I wanted to dance. His name was Paul and he was 41 with long black hair. He was a little chubby and wore classes but he was cute and HE was the youngest one there. I danced with him several times during the next hour.

A short little man with glasses asked me to dance after Paul. He kept telling me how beautiful I was and how good I smelled. When he started to paw me on the dance floor, I told him that maybe he needed to find someone else to dance with. Later, he asked if he could sit with me. I told him for a minute. He sat down and started to ask me a lot of questions.

"Where do you live?"

"Do you live alone?"

"Why are you divorced?"

"Where are your x husbands?"

"Is your x husband healthy?"

Finally, I blurted out, "are you writing a book? What is this, an interview?"

He looked a little defeated, wished me a good night and slithered off to find another woman.

Earlier in the evening, a woman sat across from me and we chatted in between dances, even exchanging phone numbers in case we ever wanted to meet at another dance and walk in together. She was a tiny size 2 and danced all night long, but confided in me that she had never been married, never lived with anyone and had never had children. She said she was about ready to give up on finding someone. I quickly told her to NEVER give up. I told her she was cute, attractive and funny and that someone was out there, but probably not at this dance.
At around 10, she thanked me for being so kind, slipped on her tiny leather jacket over her tiny black dress and went to her car. She had seen enough.

I sat alone at the table for a few minutes then gathered up my purse and keys, waved goodbye to Paul and got home in time to watch a cheesy horror movie. That is what I probably should have done in the first place. I'm guess I'm just not ready for the over 50 dances yet. At least not for a few more years.

Worst Date Ever

I thought it would be fun to see hear about the worst date you've ever had.

To get the ball rolling, I will share the worst date I've ever had.

I met "Bob" (yes another Bob) on yahoo personals. He sounded like a nice man, yet he did not have a picture. As I've said before, in this day and age, with digital cameras and quick processing from Walmart and CVS, everyone should have a decent current picture of themselves. So, the first clue in online dating that your date may be different looking is if they don't have a picture on their profile and they can't send you one privately. I have to admit, that it was the first "online" date I ever had, and didn't think it was that big of a deal. Never again would I meet someone without seeing a photo first.

Another big mistake I made was that I allowed this man to pick me up at my house. I had talked to him so many times on the phone that he sounded trustworthy, so I agreed that he could pick me up.

When he arrived, I met him on the porch and approached his car. He wasn't getting in my house! He was driving an old truck and when I crawled into the front seat I was disgusted to see that the car was covered in dog hair. It was everywhere, clinging to the mirrors, the seats, the windows and floor. If I would have had allergies I'm sure I would died in that truck. I knew from that instant that I wouldn't go out with this man again, because of the dog hair. (Unless he vacuumed it first.)

After I got over the shock of seeing the dog hair, I really got a good look at his face. He had a full, unkempt beard, which I do not like. He told me over the phone he had a slight beard. I don't know what he think slight means, but he looked like grizzly Adams. He had a shiny bald head and big wild eyes. The eyes are what I remember the best. He would look at me sideways and his eyes were crazed looking. Yet, he was polite, so I didn't have much fear. I just wanted to get the date over with, and it had just started!

As we drove along, Bob made a few sexual innuendos which I ignored. He also implied that we were already a couple, which caused me to blurt out, "Hey, this is our first date,,slow down!"

Bob took me to his favorite restaurant; a polish place about 30 minutes away. Polish. Yes, Polish. Kielbasa & Cabbage are not the kinds of foods that one usually eats on a first date, but the choices were limited, so I indulged. Needless to say, Polish food tastes great but it doesn't get along with my digestive system. Did I mention that the restaurant was 30 minutes away?
After dinner I asked Bob to stop at a gas station because I had to use the facilities; not once, but twice did I need to stop.

Even though I was ready to get home as soon as possible, Bob didn't want the date to end, so he suggested that we should go on a walk. I agreed and he headed the truck over to Henry Ford Estate in Dearborn. The home was closed for repairs but the wooded grounds were open for touring. However, it was just before dusk and there wasn't another car in the parking lot. We both got out of the truck and started to walk towards the pathway, but I had a feeling of dread come over me. Maybe I've read one too many horror stories, but I didn't feel comfortable walking in the woods with this man.

I took a few more steps towards the walkway then stopped suddenly. Being the quick thinker that I am, I held onto my stomach and looked at him.

"You have to take me home," I said.

"Huh?" he asked, with a dumbfounded look.

"Yes, I feel sick and need to go home." I moaned. I'm not a great actress but he fell for it.

"Ok," he said, "we can come back here some other time."

I hoped into the truck and continued to rub my stomach and make little sounds of discomfort as he sped me towards home.

The truck had barely rolled to a stop as I jumped out.

"Thanks for the nice time, " I said over my shoulder as I dashed for the door.

"Can I come in for a cup of coffee?" he asked pathetically.

"Oh, no, not on a first date, " I said.

I entered my house and locked the door behind me as fast as I could. With in seconds, my phone rang.

It was Bob.

"Would you like to go on a second date?" he asked.

"We'll see, " I said.

"The date can start in 5 minutes, I'm still outside, " he remarked.

I double checked the lock on the door and told him I still was feeling sick. He apologized and said he would call again.

Later that night when he called, I didn't answer. The next day I ignored the phone again. I felt horrible about it, but I didn't know how to tell him this wasn't a match for me.

I then started to get emails that sang my praises. I was an angel. He couldn't believe I would date someone like him. He couldn't wait to see me again.

Finally, I sent him a reply telling him that he was a sweet man, but that I didn't see it going anywhere.

I never heard from him again.

So, what did I learn from this experience?

1. Never go on a date with someone who doesn't send a picture.
   
2. Never let a stranger pick me up at my home.
3. Never let a stranger take me for a walk in the woods.
4. Never eat Polish food on a first date...(or second, third, fourth or fifth)

Have any worst date ever stories you would like to share? Send me an email or leave a comment. I would love to hear them!