Not to be confused with my weekly Coffee Share post, this is just a quick update about a few things in my life. I do, in fact have a date tonight. The latest Tinderfella (the Transcendentalist) looked me up on Instagram in order to confirm that we were still on for tonight.
I’m thinking that means that I accidentally unmatched with him while I was dropping my phone and trying to get all my stuff from my car to my room while trying to avoid all the people in my house.
I may be even more of an introvert than I ever would have imagined. I find that I really enjoy my private time. Like yesterday I ended up canceling several plans and stayed in my jammies all day so that I could rest up for today. After a week of testing, I apparently needed some recharge time, and I didn’t really realize how much of a toll it had taken on me until I realized that today I’m kind of doing the same thing…
Up until my date later tonight that is.
But in the meantime, I have been trying to not really see or speak to any of the people in my house. Which is sometimes difficult. Especially when coming in, if the girls are awake.
Like the day I dropped my phone and apparently accidentally deleted my Tinder connection with the Transcendentalist.
I had been trying to write a response, but didn’t want to sit in the car. I needed to take care of some girly stuff… Like change a cork (if you need help with that euphemism, you may not be old enough to be reading this blog).
I went into the house, and tried to go stealthily up the stairs and to my room, but not stealthily enough. The dog barked at me (probably because he’d been sitting outside with no water for a really long time), and so here come the girls. They had a friend over, and so they wouldn’t just let me go to my room. They had to introduce me to their friend, and follow me INTO my room. And make a joke about how I had laundry everywhere.
Irony of ironies, they throw everything everywhere, so the 12 year old commenting on the state of my room, when the whole house looks like their luggage exploded angered me a little. Further angered me when she commented about a smell, which I think is directly related to someone taking my clothes out of the dryer before they were done. Half of my clothes are mildewed smelling, and I’m not happy about it.
Not to mention, I had to sleep on wet sheets because the dryer wouldn’t actually dry them. No matter how many times I restarted it, they just got hot, but stayed wet. But that’s a separate incident.
So, the older of the girls was making fun of the mildew smell in my room, and kept getting in my way. And then blocked my way to the bathroom while I’m standing there with a tampon about to blow out because it was over an hour overdue to be changed. I finally had to tell her to move, at which point her friend said, “didn’t you hear her say she had to do girl stuff?”
At least someone was listening to me.
So, while I was struggling with my stuff, and trying not to get blood on the carpet (take that how you will), I must have accidentally unmatched with the guy I’m going on the date with tonight.
It’s okay, though. Like I said, he looked me up on Instagram, and asked me if he’d done or said something wrong.
And, if you’ll remember, I thought I’d done something wrong.
Like come on too strong.
Which I totally did, but he doesn’t seem to mind. I am a little concerned, though. I think it’s safe to say we’ve already agreed basically to be intimate on a first date, because we’re both in that frame of mind (and no, I’m not corked anymore, so no worries there), but perhaps I played it up a little much because he was trying to invite me over for a night of fun last night.
We haven’t met yet, face to face, so this could be problematic.
What if it’s like with the Marine, or whatever we called him? You know, the guy who took me for coffee, but then when he saw me in person it wasn’t the same. He seemed put off by my height and my size.
I already know I’m going to be as tall as or taller than this guy. I usually tell people I’m 5’8″, when sometimes the doctor’s office tells me I’m only 5’6″, but my students all tell me they think I’m like 5’10″… until they stand next to me. But this guy put on his profile that he’s 5’7″. Even if I am only 5’6″ that’s without shoes (I always take my shoes off for that part to get an accurate reading). I know exactly which outfit I want to wear, but I have NO flats except my sneakers. Well, sneakers and my Dad’s A&M flip flops. And a couple of pairs of boots that will be way to hot for the Summer, even at night.
I want to wear the outfit I wore when the Pirate and I were intimate that last time. It got a reaction out of him, and that apparently speaks volumes since he doesn’t find me attractive. Plus I’m comfortable in it without my shapewear to hold me in, which is unique.
My shapewear is like my armor. It helps to keep me confident and relaxed, as odd as that is.
But anyway. He just sent me a message to check in and see if we were still on, so I should go get ready.
The conversation had been really intense until I accidentally deleted him. Now it’s all sex stuff. Which, while it doesn’t bother me exactly, does concern me that I jumped too soon.
I was too angry about the way the Pirate treated me, and the way that woman friend of his interfered. Plus he’d woken up that part of me that goes a little wild, and never let me let her out completely. With him, the intimate moments were too scripted, too clinical, too formulaic for me to feel comfortable being myself.
I think a big problem of the whole thing was that I never was comfortable being myself with him. I was more comfortable in text than I was face to face, and even in text, he’d shut me down when I was being flirty. I really wanted him to come to my place, my comfort zone so I could be myself more. I really wanted to not give him some fantasy version of myself, but he was so busy telling me all about himself that I never felt like the time was right. Then we hit that 6 week mark, where the guy stops showing me the best version of himself, and I still hadn’t been able to really be myself, to have anything really my way, so I was comfortable enough to be me. I felt like I was just that nameless, faceless doll that I hate to be for guys.
As such, while I was interested in him, and wanted to really express that to him in a way that felt honest to me, in a way that showed who I was, he couldn’t let down his barriers enough to do that. And it means I have a lot of pent up energy that needs an outlet, and soon!
While I like the idea of the Transcendentalist, it may be that the sexual frustration created by the Pirate has given him an opening where he’d have had to work a little harder before.
And maybe not.
He has been very intellectually stimulating, and a bit more spiritual than I’m used to. Plus he’s older. He’s 5 years older than me instead of 4 years younger than me, like the Pirate, and several of the other Tinderfellas have been. I’m not sure what I expect, or what I’m hoping for even in this situation, but worst case scenario, even if it is like the Marine and we only do the painting, It’s totally a painting I like, so that’s okay. I’ll enjoy the painting process, which I haven’t done in way too long!
But now I’m late!! Thanks for following along! And I’ll be sure to give you the run down tomorrow in our Weekly Coffee Share!