by Ms. Jennifer

On Sunday, after a glorious afternoon of dancing/drumming, I stopped by Evan’s house.  We met at a city Park for something resembling a second date and after an hour of walking around he announced he had to go home and make dinner.  The conversation wasn’t flowing and instead of working to turn it back on I just allowed silence to stalk us.   

I figured he wasn’t that interested and that was fine.  I’ve been on lots of single dates, even when they are good, it doesn’t mean anything about a second date.  But he kept texting me…hmmmmm.  Regardless, I decided to stop by his house to see if I was still interested.  Unlike most men he said he was looking for a relationship… or so he said, but it was a bit premature for that.  

He had told me he was renting an apartment in the NOLA, so I had some idea that the guy wasn’t well endowed financially (lol) and he was co-raising a 8 year old son, but I was still surprised when I got to his house that I felt like I was on the set of “Animal House.”  Well, that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but the place was a mess and definitely a bachelor pad.  On top of his son living there part time (it wasn’t one of his joint custody days), I learned he had a roommate.   He suggested we might want to hang out in his bedroom (his roommate wasn’t there but would be home soon and would want to play video games…and he promised no hankie pankie), but his room was a mess and he didn’t even have sheets on his bed.  

Let me tell you I’m FAR from a neat freak, but something about this was decisively NOT hot.   On top of being quite a bit older than him, I’m apparently way more “successful” than him and this wasn’t something I was expecting to have to think about.   I’d just delightfully over-dosed binge watching “Pride and Prejudiced” and was aware of class differences (duh), but here I was in the 21st century thinking about dating or getting into a relationship with a single parent who was just getting by.  Any romantic notion about dating someone with younger kids and turning into their stepmother just got slap bitched.   This angle wasn’t so endearing.  I certainly had no interested in turning into someone’s housekeeper or babysitter.   Also Evan smoked which on someone’s profile is a deal breaker.  I said something to him about his bachelor pad and he didn’t deny it.   He said his roommate would probably need to move out so he could have more space for his son, implying things would be different with his roommate gone.  

I’m not a gold digger and I find it extraordinary when woman think they can find some guy online to support them.   My mother, the single parent of four kids, put herself through grad school (since there was no need to pay for a girl’s college education because she was only going to end up barefoot and pregnant according to her father) so it was DEEPLY instilled in me to make my own way.  NEVER assume anyone would take care of you.  

This belief system certainly propelled me in a certain direction (never even consider following my passion and becoming a dancer) and I created my own business as a resulted.  It left me both strong and independent and also isolated and lonely.   Renovating a building, and now taking care of my father, has not only taken over my life, but I’ve found myself around men who, on some level, want to be taken care of.  My friend tells me I’m running the “wayward home for boys” and she’s right.   Renovating a building it’s not (typically) about spreading your legs, it’s about opening up your purse (I’m finding as I get older my pussy is less in demand while my purse has become more popular) and my two male caregivers are people who are just marginally getting by (the female caregiver quit by not showing up one day) and they need my purse so they can afford to fix their cars or pay their light bill.  They let you know their whole life is riding on their next gig at your house.   Perhaps, I’m not the only one who has to kill Prince Charming! 

  When I was younger, it was the COCK that was demanding.  The cock that you owed a blow job.   Funny, that it’s not my so much my pussy anymore.  Is this good news?   I know one thing I’m tired of men’s needs dominating mine.   Now if, I mean when, they want a blow job and you don’t give it to them there’s no time for seduction or bullshit it’s just time to SWIPE.  I feel like I either meet a man’s dick or brain.  Where is the heart?  I don’t mean to over-generalize, and maybe it takes time to expose their tender ticker, but who is willing to invest?   Swipe is the new American past time. 

From time to time I will see profiles saying they are looking for their “queen” or “they know how to treat a lady” and I’m not exactly sure what that means.  I’ve NEVER been a Princess.  Early on I had to take care of my parents (as I am doing again with my father…and this morning I’m ready to kill him so I don’t have to do this anymore), but now I’m wondering what it would be like to be spoiled?  Even my rich ex was stingy… we took buses and trains.  If money was spent for dinner or theater tickets it’s always because he wanted to check out the place.  How do men feel about taking a woman out for dinner?   Early on in my online dating life a guy asked me for dinner (not a preliminary coffee date) and I agreed.  I asked if he was always so decisive.   Why was he willing to shell out unlike so many others?   Don’t worry he cancelled the day before we were to meet and then I never heard from him again.  A couple men have invited me to lunch on a first date, but then never to be heard from again. 

So Evan’s ‘let get into a relationship’ before we’ve really had a serious date and his just getting by– matters and doesn’t matter.  Maybe it goes back to being taken care of and I’m realizing, if I’m honest, I want to know what it feels like to be taken care of, but NOT at the cost of giving up my voice.   Is it possible to find someone who will want to invest their time and money, not to “own” me, but because they think “I’m worth it.”   As someone whose been completely self-sufficient my whole life (including putting myself through college while having to scrap by on Food Stamps) it’s strange to even admit this.  Maybe, men and women, both carry the fantasy of someone taking care of them?   It’s understandable that we want to believe someone loves us enough to take care of us, but how has this worked out for most of us and at what cost?  And if we talking about the politically incorrectness of class, how about race?   Strange that the last two potential “relationships” were both with younger black men.  

I’m sure times have changed, but my first really serious boyfriend in college was Black.  And this was the day an age when that was so totally not cool.   My parents were both extremely liberal, and were dealing with homophobia (two of their kids were gay) so they didn’t have a problem with “guess who’s coming to dinner, ” but EVERYONE else did.   I’m wondering now if it’s less about race, but way more about class as long as someone is in your same social economic class everything is cool.  Evan is educated and I think I could talk to him about this stuff… if we get there.   How does race play into things now?

This morning I had a dream about a young African American man.  I wasn’t sure it was related to Evan or not (he also has an 18 hear old son living abroad and that was about the age of the young man in my dream).  The dream went something like this: I was arguing with my sister about something stupid like squeezing the toothpaste from the bottom and this young man comes up to me terrified about his upcoming performance where he has to get naked.   He tells me he feels so completely vulnerable about being totally naked on stage.  I simply hold him knowing there are no words that can really help.   Eventually, my sister comes up to us and joins in holding this young man.   Is the dream about male vulnerability (which seems to be avoided at all costs online) or is it about my ability to attach and the desire to find a way to express my motherly instincts and my desire to nurture/connect?   

And speaking of avoiding all vulnerability, Mr. Dom is home (he was offshore for the last month).  At first it was ALL HOT AND HEAVY.   But at some point I wanted more than a constant dose of Dom/sub porn (especially the ass play) which this guy is totally into.  When I told him I wanted something more than porn, he said something about my “hand ringing” like I’m some up tight prude.   I was simply talking about EXPANDING our conversation.  I’m not sure if the “kinky” world would be fascinating, or rigid and boring.   My “sub” was freakin  boring, because I could tell he was caught in a rut.   Everything revolved around him being humiliated by wearing woman’s bras.   To me what’s interesting is variety and new exploration without getting caught up in a grove.  On the other hand, Mr. Dom knows what works for him.   But I’m pretty sure if I don’t go along with HIS program, he’s not going to be interested and since he didn’t bother to contact me when he got home, I seem to be right.   Still I asked him if he was still interested in meeting.   

“Perhaps.”   He was having some elective surgery.  I don’t think he’s going to love my white, feminist, American sensibility.   His crew is ex-military types and they want to put a butt plug up any of that soft shit.  Still I am curious enough to meet.  This chemistry shit is so unpredictable I thought it would be a fun experiment.   If perfect on paper means jack shit then who knows what unsure could mean??  But I’m certainly not going to chase the guy.   I just checked in to see how his surgery went, but if there’s no follow up or it’s too hard to get together then C’est la vie.

I’m supposed to see Henry next week for a massage.  We’ve talked very directly about what this means and it means a massage (not sex).  It will be interesting for both of us to take this step since he’s not looking for a relationship and then there’s the politically lobbyist who is looking for a relationship, but he lives over an hour away and is super busy so he’s also, despite his words, not really in a position to be in a relationship.  Maybe I would do much better if I just accepted what men have to offer?  Perhaps, I’ve been too hell bent on having “my voice heard,” that I’ve missed something else? 

Maybe my secret admirer is right, I need a lot of relationships to make this work?  Or just one Cock, but where is he?   There seems to be an endless supply to “chat” with, but to meet, have chemistry and then to investing... well, that seems to be the hold up.  Whether the investment is time or money it requires giving something up and that seems to be a very unpopular idea these days.   

Everyone wants it all!   Multiple sex partners, or at least sex without the rest of a relationship.  But why is “the rest of it” assume to be such a drag the “chain around the neck?”   But men do commit, is it really either or?    Do men have to lose themselves because the woman owns them or they have to run away (or if their sex involved run after that)?   There has to be a relationship where it’s mutual the man WANTS to KNOW the woman not just fuck her or run away, right?

This morning when I woke up after my dream I started thinking about me ex again (shoot me) and after that I started wondering if my obsessive thinking is actually to avoid engaging in what is ACTUALLY happening in my life?   Maybe it’s not only I don’t know exactly what I want, but it’s because I’m afraid.  I look like I’m totally open and available, but I realized that my obsessive nature is really MY OWN RUT.   Like I’m not thinking about kink or being humiliated in a lavender bra, but I’m just as obsessed with what?   My anger and hurt?  How my partner betrayed me?   Exactly, what is this little fact doing for me NOW?  

I want sex and intimacy, but the truth is I’m afraid of it.  I’m afraid of getting hurt again, so I do this aimless (sort of dating) kind of like my renovations where I’ve been ripped off so many times that I just have HVAC people come in and out like a revolving door and give me bids, but then I never “pull the trigger” (hate that expression).  I’m both aimless, and in an panic, about finishing my renovations and meeting someone.  

 Maybe I’ve been so focus on my ex’s self-deception I haven’t looked at my own.  I really can’t sort out if I’m having trouble attaching again because of what happened or there just hasn’t been chemistry.  The few men where I felt it….ran, because my vibe was too needy or ?    I seem to swing between the two extremes–my own version of running or clinging.   I’m now trying to learn new dance steps, but everyone dances differently so this is not as easy as it might sound.

Evan was supposed to get back to me about an event tonight.   It’s 5:30 pm and no word.  My first reaction is “what bullshit,” but now I know I don’t know.   I won’t make up some story, but why I should go searching for answers?  Maybe some of this is just patience.  Just getting on with my life and being open to what is and what happens.  The holidays are coming up and I will get to see my kids.   That is always so grounding for me to know that one of the main points of my life was to bring these two amazing kids into the world.   One great thing about having a longer life is you keep sorting out why you’re here.  Maybe it’s to rescue a pit bull (and save her life) maybe it’s to save the rest of my dad’s life (while learning how not to give up my own).  Maybe it to learn how to play an instrument and bring the healing sound of music to others?    I’d be lying if I didn’t say I wanted another passionate love affair, but maybe it’s like God.  You just don’t get to know where/when/why you have to trust that it will happen when the time is right and not based on my demands/expectations.