I'm Baaaaackkkkkkk!!!! Well, Maybe

Okay, so my grand plan with this whole online dating thing was that it was going to be this big gigantic social-network-internet-dating-experiment kind of thing, and I would have a variety of different posts that would start out with "Date #1 with Guy #1" and "Date #2 with Guy #4" and "Date #4 with Guy #2" and such and such. In fact, my girlfriends and I even joked that I would end up needing a spreadsheet to keep track of the emails, chats and dates and such. Sort of a mathematized DFL, but without me screwing all of them because that would be kind of trashy.

Has not worked out quite like I planned. Had Date #1 with Guy #1, and he became Guy #1 because he was the first guy who asked me out. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not just going out willy-nilly with anyone, but after emailing and chatting with about five different (maybe more, I can't fucking remember because I had only visualized the spreadsheet at this point) men, none of them had asked me out. Huh???? Okay, why are we emailing and chatting endlessly then? Let's get to the point and go on a damn date. Geez. So Guy #1 asked me out, and well yeah, I said yes. I mean, that's what I'm on this dating site for, right? To meet men that I would not normally meet and to open avenues that I might not travel down in my normal day to day life.

Date #1 with Guy #1. I am intrigued by his personality. This man talks more than I do. Holy shit. But it's all good and like I said, I'm intrigued. So this led to Date #2 with Guy #1. My plan is that I am still going to date other guys, but still... no one is asking me. Okay, come on, fellas, I don't want to have to be the one asking. Chivalry is not dead in my book. Take the lead on this one. Date #2, even more intrigued. We have a lot in common and I'm pretty sure he likes me for me. Hmmmm, strange. He doesn't know me yet, because that's all this can be, is confusion on his part. This led to Date #3 with Guy #1, because I'm even more intrigued and attracted at this point.

The spreadsheet plan has fallen by the wayside because at this point, I'm thinking that I really like this guy, he's very nice to me, still talks as much as I do, and hasn't been scared off by my tales of woe and marital separation and panic attacks. Veeeeeeery interesting. He might get the essence that is Steph.

So this is where I stand right now, and this is why I've been neglecting my blog to death. It's hard to blog and troll around on the internet for freakshows when I'm gabbing on the phone late at night like a little high school girl, or holding hands in the movie theater. I've looked at my blog wistfully, and read a few snarky comments left by my loyal friends and family screaming about needing their blog fix... and I'm thinking, FUCK! Let a girl get laid!

I know I said stay tuned sometime last month, and by God, I meant it. While I've been running around with Guy #1 (and the only guy at this point), I've also been dealing with Mrs. Second Grade Teacher, cheerleading (oh my god will this shit ever end?), The Ex and life in general. My oldest daughter's birthday is coming up this weekend, and I've planned a family dinner with at our favorite Japanese steakhouse with the soon-to-be-ex-laws, my children and one of their little friends, The Ex and his girlfriend. I'm going to start calling her The Girlfriend. She deserves her own special capitalization at this point. So yeah, I'm doing that whole family dinner thing this weekend, because I need to prove to my children that Mommy is okay with all of this shit and whatever Daddy has told them is a bunch of shit. Cue the soundtrack to The Twilight Zone.
Stay tuned, bitches. I will be back.

Stay Tuned

Stay tuned, bitches. This whole online dating thing has me so busy that between work, cheerleading, children and other stuff, I have totally neglected my blog. I'm also way behind on my craigslist trolling, but I really don't know if that should be a priority in my life. Of course it shouldn't be, but somehow it is. I should be able to roll out some good stuff this weekend.

Adventures in Online Dating #5

Day something of this new site, and I finally decided to email this guy back who winked at me. He changed his picture and looks different, familiar. He says he's from the Midlo, so who knows? I might have seen him in the grocery store or something. But it's nagging me, because I know I've run across this man before. I don't forget faces, generally. With my job, you take notice of people a little bit more. Even if it's just in passing, you might file the face away for later. And then, when later comes, I tend to sit around and search through that mental Rolodex, much like the CIA does with all their fancy computer shit, until I find the face and the place. 

So I've emailed this guy several times, and at this point, I'm not sure if he's stupid or a drunk, because I thought I was pretty clear on certain things in my profile. In fact, I think I was quite clever in some of my wording. This has been my most sincere and non-snarky profile post, as I'm paying for this one and feel like I should at least be somewhat honest. This guy I'm emailing... not too sure about him. So in the interest of getting feedback (and always providing my own commentary on my own comments), I'll give you my profile blow-by-blow. Keep in mind, I've done this sentence-by-sentence to provide said commentary, but it's actually in paragraph form and all that jazz on this website.

I am a soon-to-be divorcee (that sounds kind of 1950-ish, doesn't it?), and the mother of two awesome children who live with me full time during the school year.  This means that I am not available to go hang out in a dive bar or hibachi grill Monday through Thursday nights and every other weekend.

I have a full time career and sometimes over-involve myself in my childrens' activities. And maybe not even on the weekends I have free because my children are really important to me.

Book fairs, school functions, cheerleading, other sports, you name it. This is me providing examples of the fact that I'm not available 24/7 for you to try to hook up with.  

I watch a little TV and am getting back into reading. I'm not going to mention my pet project, Thy Blog.

I love Patricia Cornwell, Dan Brown, Tom Clancy and Jackie Collins, and am getting into Clive Cussler. Why can't I make it past the C's in the author alphabet? I also like Michael Crichton, but not enough to list him. You know, my complete inability to get hooked on any other authors that have a last name starting with D through Z bothers me sometimes. Anyway, back to the profile. I also left out that I tend to sneak around my favorite big box bookstore to read erotica and porn for free.

I don't watch a lot of movies, but if I do, I prefer they be action or drama.  It took a lot of effort for me to not include the part about hot naked men and heavy mechanized artillery. A LOT OF EFFORT.

If I had time to go to the gym I would, but I love to swim, water ski and snow ski, though I very rarely have time for that. I also don't have the money for most of that stuff and my swimsuit isn't the swimming kind, it's a show-off-the-girls kind.

I'd like to think there's not much I won't try once with the right person! I'm a freak. It's all about reading between the lines, here, fellas.

Musically, I listen to rock, alternative rock, pop, hip-hop, r & b, old school stuff to include old country, but I can't deal with new country. This means that if you watch more than "The Dukes of Hazzard" on CMT, we won't get along very well.

Regarding my dislikes, I am deathly allergic to jogging, olives and the color yellow. I also dislike The Ex and his mother, but felt it best to let that remain unsaid.

Preferably, I would like to meet men who are understanding of the limitations on my time. Here's yet another hint, this one not so subtle.

In fact, I've spent the last week wondering if I even have time to date. And another hint. My time is limited.

But I love men, and well... here I am. But I love men, and well... I need to get laid.

I'd like to get to know someone who is intelligent, articulate and passionate. You must be able to speak  proper English to get between these legs.

I have a very big personality and a strange but hilarious sense of humor, and would like to be with someone who can not only understand that, but maybe go toe to toe with me on it. You must take me as I am. I don't think saying I have a big personality feels or sounds quite right, because I feel like men might think that's code for saying I have a big ass, but damn. My personality is big. How else can I describe it?

I sometimes refer to myself as supersonic. :) Because I AM supersonic, bitches.

I'll debate anything and it sometimes deteriorates into trash talking. I will talk mad shit to you about anything.

I don't do a lot of fancy and exotic foods, but am more of a typical Southern girl. I might go to third base or beyond on the first date, but I won't tell anyone other than my 19 bestest girlfriends.

Sweet tea, fried chicken, corn bread, pie, so on and so forth. This means that if you take me out to eat to some nasty ass Vietnamese place, you won't be getting any of the aforementioned sentence.

I drink socially and will not tolerate any drug usage. Because even I have some standards.

Just not my thing. A simple clarification of the above.

I'm not particularly religious, and I don't care if you are, as long as you understand I'm not going to be converted. Can this be any more clear? Especially when I listed myself as Agnostic on my stats, or whatever those little blips of information are called?

Regarding relationships, chemistry, respect and mutual interests are important to me. If I like you (chemistry) and you're intelligent and articulate (which I respect), we can probably get passionate (mutual interests). I'm really proud of crafting two totally separate sentences in two totally different paragraphs that really tie together so fabulously.

Without these things, it's a hard row to hoe. Or there will be NONE.

So... that's me. I'd love to meet someone that may share similar interests to have some good times with. Good times. Note that I did not say share a life together. I did not say embark upon a special journey... blah blah blah. Good times, baby, good times.

And, there we have it. My profile and what I meant. So why is this jackass emailing me about what church do I go to? Ummmm, none, because I consider myself to be an agnostic, have forever and a day (just lied to The Ex about it for years to play nice) and I'm good with it. Is there a church for that? Unitarians, maybe? I don't know. So I sent him a nice little email back that basically said that he must have me mistaken for someone else, because I've stated in my profile that I'm agnostic and don't fucking try to convert me. Actually, as these emails were going back and forth, I think I've stopped on one face and place in my Rolodex in my brain. I think this guy took his kids to the same summer camp as I did. I noticed him because (if this is the same guy, and I'm thinking it might be), he was driving this big ass Hummer and always dressed really nicely. I don't know if I'd want to date someone that drives a Hummer though. Kind of pretentious. All right, all right, all right. It's very pretentious, especially right now.

We'll see. I'm still not so sure about this whole online dating thing.

Bored Out of My Skull

Literally, I'm dying of boredom here. The first free Saturday night I've had in a month or so, and I'm doing a whole lot of nothing. Tried to go to sleep, but was too keyed up from the gallon of sweet tea I just drank, so now I've switched to booze in hopes it'll bring me back down and get me off of this hormonal jag of loneliness and feeling like I really don't want to get into an empty bed tonight. Trolling around on the internet, because I can't seem to bring myself to turn on the TV, or my electronic babysitter as The Ex used to call it. Whatever. That from someone who sat around with a fucking headset on while he played World of Warcraft.

There's no one on facebook I want to chat with, I'm obviously not going to be getting laid tonight, I don't want to read because I forgot the book I'm really digging at work, I haven't met the love of my life and/or hook up of my life on this online dating site, and I'm so bored I signed up for a cougar dating site. What the fuck? All of one page of guys from Richmond on there, and all the women look like Mary Beth Letourneau. If you don't know who that is, google it, bitch. I don't think I've slaughtered the name too much.

My life has come to mean instant gratification. Technology has fucked me up like this. I refused to get a cell phone until I was 29, and that was only at the insistence of The Ex when I was pregnant with the older daughter, because of me driving back and forth to work at night sometimes. And then I refused to give the number out because I didn't want anyone calling me. When I finally started giving the number out, I insisted that no one call me because I didn't want to talk to them. Call me at home, goddammit. And then, when texting started, I refused that. I refused that until about three or four years ago, when I finally figured out this would pre-empt about 58 mindless conversations with The Ex per day that ALL had to end with "I love you." So... that might have been yet another indicator that the marriage was going south. But I still told people not to call me. I'll call YOU when I'm ready to talk.

And then, the separation occurred. My cell phone became my lifeline, along with me pacing around the neighborhood at night talking to my family and friends because The Ex couldn't eavesdrop on me from a block away. Then I got a new phone with a new provider, with my own name, so he couldn't access my phone records. The cell phone really became my lifeline, because I was good to go. Then, I figured out how to get facebook on it. Oh, god, that was then end of me repelling instant gratification. Now, I'm attached to the damn phone. I check that bastard all the time, I carry it around with me, I'm checking facebook, I'm googling myself, all kinds of stupid shit. Now, I give my number out willy-nilly and just tell everyone to call me on my cell. Of course, this is largely due to the fact that when I got my home service hooked up, I never bothered to set up the voice mail and now I don't know how to. So if the school calls, the doctor's office, someone, they'll call my cell because I have absolutely no idea how to set up my voice mail and calling the provider isn't going to be worth the intellectual pain it will cause me.

I've been on this new, paid online dating site for about, oh, I don't know, less than 36 hours and jesus! Why do I attract such fucking goofball men? I mean, I don't think it's my looks because I think I look okay and non-goofbally myself. I never know what men think when they either see me in person or online - no fucking idea. Most of them just kind of look at me in a very surprised way at first, and I never can figure that out. I'm left wondering, is my hair sticking out funny? Is there something on my shirt? Something stuck in my teeth? Why are you looking at me like that? I don't get it. So why am I getting these goofball guys? I've had one dipshit email me, and about 8 wink at me, which I suppose is this websites way of giving you a chance to test the waters before sending an email. If someone winks at me, and I like his profile, I can do one of three things, or two of three things, or any fucking combination, I suppose. I can ignore it, I can respond (with either a wink of my own, or a no thanks response) or I can send an email. I've emailed one guy, and since I refuse pay any more money to upgrade even further, I can't tell if he's read my email or not. I'm not going to stalk his profile to see how long it's been since he's been on, because you can see who has viewed your profile most recently, and I don't think there's any way you can hide that. Because I've looked. I winked at one guy, and haven't gotten a response back on that either. I actually think the winking is kind of gay, but I have some concerns about emailing a whole bunch of men and then getting a whole bunch of responses and I only have time to go out with one of them, what with my career, single parenthood, school activities, second grade homework and cheerleading, not to mention my super fabulous blog. Because what the fuck would I do if I sent out a whole bunch of winks and emails to a whole bunch of hot guys and a whole bunch of them responded? Oh my god, how would I choose? So I'm just kind of creeping along, like some kind of snail, leaving a trail of slime (or vibrator lube) behind me.

I'm annoyed that I can't find any blogs like mine. Long and painfully drawn out posts, but achingly sincere in the most humorous way, with the f-bomb dropped often and with glee. Where are these other women? I'd like to do the blog hook up kind of thing with them, but I refuse to get involved with some other woman blogging about her fantastic recipe for chutney or whatever. I also don't want to hook up with other women blogging about how tearful she became when it was time to cut little Johnny's hair for the first time. I want to hook up with women who are going through a crazy change of life, just want to get laid well and often by a guy who actually knows what all the girl parts are. I want to hook up with some other woman who spends at least 30 minutes out of each day looking at the casual encounters ads on craiglist because that's all the penis she's going to get to see for the day. I want to hook up with some other woman who doing something like this, because maybe this is someone I can learn from, someone who can help me make my blog better.  Girls!!!! Where the fuck are you? I can't be alone in this, I just simply can't.

I've got one main homeslice, from back in the day of 4th grade through high school, who has linked me up on his blog, and he gives me awesome feedback. I think his blog is awesome and I'm really flattered that he's hooking me up with posting my shit on other places, but at the end of the day, he's still got more testosterone than estrogen. And by the way, homeslice, your bloggerdom hook ups totally make up for the time in 10th grade when I got so shit-faced drunk at that party and you and another guy kept talking about me eating a greasy ham sandwich out of a dirty ashtray until I puked my spleen out, passed out for a little while and ended up at the nearby men's college and you STOLE MY BEER. Why can't I end up drunk at a men's college now? But anyway, if you know of any like minded women who blog, hook a sister up, please. Pretty please, with cherries on top? [And this would be where I duck my head just a little bit and blink my eyes a whole lot, because that usually gets me what I want, except for me ending up drunk at a men's college tonight].

Oh my god, it's only 11:04pm. I've got one hard lemonade left and three Bud Lights. Honestly, I've been out of the habit of drinking beer for so long I'm not sure what good beer is. During the days of clubbing, I usually stuck with Michelob and Heineken, but are those douchebag beers? And then, when I got married, I stopped drinking beer and most everything else altogether because if I didn't drink it all in one setting, The Ex would think I didn't want it and would drink it for himself, or he would make suggestive comments for the entire duration of me drinking whatever about how he might get the backdoor. Yeah, fuck you. I said no just to be a complete bitch. Anyway, maybe I need to switch to Corona. Need good 36+1 year old, separated and freakishly horny woman, beer recommendations. Y'all read my blog, what's the best beer for my personality, because I really don't think it's Bud Light. Nothing dark and heavy, like Guinness or any of that other shit. I don't need the beer to taste good, I just need the beer to match my personality and super cute hairdo without making me look like a bimbo.

Adventures in Online Dating #4

Hey, guess what?

I changed my mind again. Yeah, about the whole online dating thing. But I upgraded yet again. I hid my profiles on the two free sites, because I think that I should get more than a catfish. Catfish + koi = nothing good in a bad way. Sometimes something + something = nothing good, but in that good dirty kind of way. This wasn't it.

So I got on match.com last night with my fake profile name that isn't really fake, it's just my middle name which no one knows, because I dropped my middle name when I got married and kept my maiden name as my middle name. This was for two reasons: I might have had some unconscious clue that the marriage was going to go south and maybe taking my maiden name back would be easier if it was just my middle name instead. But now I have kids and I don't want to have a different last name from them, at least not right now. The other reason for dropping my maiden middle name is that if I had kept it with my married name, my initials would have been SLT. So my monogram would either sound like a model of a Ford Taurus, or it would sound like someone meant to spell SLuT but forgot the u.

My middle name, or some combination of it is my really anonymous online dating name. I spent hours crafting the right profile, because I think the normal man probably doesn't know how to take my x-rated snark. And, I decided to be somewhat honest. I mean, if I've got to pay for this shit, I should get my money's worth out of being honest. So I was honest, and I'm pleased with that. The only detail I omitted was my smoking. I opted not to even mention it. I won't acknowledge there's such a thing called lying by omission. I figure if I end up going out with someone who doesn't smoke, I can cram about three or four pieces of nicotine gum in the my mouth every so often and they won't be any the wiser. I might try to get some from my mom (cause that shit is more expensive than the damn tobacky) and see what happens if I mix it with Big Red gum. Either nasty as hell or a match made in heaven. Which could be just like the date that I might go on. 

I paid my monthly fee, which was the most expensive option, but considering I've been doing this online dating thing for less than two whole weeks and I can't even decide if I want to do this, I probably shouldn't go for the six month commitment. This indecision is killing me. I'm starting to get on my own damn nerves, and that's really something. Not like I don't get on my own nerves periodically, but I usually don't drag it out for this long. Indecision is something that I've trained myself out of, because you can't operate in life like that and it would be the death of my career. I can't be indecisive at work, and I don't think I've ever had that option in my career. Actually, maybe this is just me reverse-compensating for having to do that for 18 years. Maybe this is the first time I've been able to be indecisive about anything and it feels so good (but I just don't realize it yet) that I can't stop being indecisive about this one thing in my life. Nah, that's not it. The real truth to the matter is that I'm retaining water and it's a full moon. My estrogen is way fucked up.

I think what it is is that I know I can't be in a relationship right now, because I'm still putting me together. That, and I don't know what man would put up with me right now because I have no time for anything other than work and my children. Who the hells wants to be involved with someone like that? Furthermore, because The Ex was considerate enough to introduce his girlfriend to the children BEFORE I EVEN MOVED OUT, I feel like the pressure is on me to be extra stable and to make sure that everything I do with them is exactly what the child psychologist recommended. So basically, whomever I end up dating won't be meeting my children any time soon. Like, months and months, because I'm not putting my children through that bullshit. What this means is that this is going to be someone who has to be okay with only seeing me every other weekend and for a random lunch date for the long time being.

I think... I need a friend with benefits. That might be exactly what I need, because I'm not feeling like I'm emotionally at a place to be able to trust yet, to be able to expose myself to an actual person.  I mean, damn, that's what my blog is for, and that's somewhat anonymous. Most definitely anonymous to some because I know the people in Lithuania don't know me. So here's the tricky part--I need to troll through all these goddamn profiles and find the hot guys who won't screen me out based solely upon my age. Really, to go off on a complete sidebar, I've determined that I totally don't look my age because smoking doesn't age you. Jogging does. Think of every person you know who jogs religiously and most of them look worn down. Well, that's because they are. Their joints are fucked up, their skin is all wrinkly because they have fat in the wrong places from all that impact making the fat slide around, and they just look old. Yet another reason to not run. I don't run at all, unless a child (namely one of mine) is hurt and bleeding. Blood is a requirement. I don't run for work, and I won't. Fuck 'em. I'll just take a shoe off and chunk it at them because I have a good arm and who wants to get hit with a four inch spike heel? I had some guy email me on this site today and he obviously did not read my profile, which specifically states that I am deathly allergic to jogging, olives and the color yellow. Why this man would even send an email is beyond me, because he has on his profile that he runs more than 100 miles a month. Huuuuuhhhhh????? Whaaaaaat???? Oh my god, why would you do that to yourself? And he looks 51, not 41. Furthermore, 40 is my cut-off. I'm swinging low on my age range, because my cut-on is 30.  Oops, he's not  the guy who emailed me. He's the guy who made me his favorite. Whaaaaat???? Okay, running will make me look old and my hair won't look super cute, so I don't run. It's also damn near impossible to jog and smoke at the same time. For those who manage to do so, my compliments to that particular skill-set, but you look r.e.t.a.r.d.e.d.  Furthermore, I'm not into new age mysticism. Are you fucking kidding me? Hey, jackass, don't get all hot and bothered over the pics, read the goddamn profile. Omg.

Friends with benefits, since that's so much more classy and refined than fuck buddy. That's probably what I need. Hit it and quit it, because I'm all about woman empowerment and women can do that shit, too.  So, that's probably what I'll be working on for the next 30 days (I really don't want to pay for this for another whole month), because I've got my game back, feeling slicker than whale shit and I've got my eye on a couple of prospects. We shall see...

It's No Wonder I Don't Have Time to Date

I changed my mind yet again about the whole dating thing. I hid both of my profiles on both of those sites last night. Obviously, I'm not ready for this. Every other day I change my mind about the whole thing and I'm like, hell yeah, I can do this. And then, 11.8539 hours later, I'm like, what the fuck was I thinking? I don't have time for this bullshit. This has been and will be my schedule since this past Saturday into the near future.

Saturday - Football game at 9:00am, which means we are supposed to be on the field at 8:30. But I stayed up til 2:00am chatting on the computer, so I was still trying to pimp my curls and stuff out at 8:30 that morning because I was running late. And then I had to stop for a super-sized Coke on the way there. Arrived at the field at 9:05 with the children, snacks for the younger daughter's cheerleading team, bookbag with older daughter's playdate birthday party clothes in it, folding chair and also a bacon biscuit. I didn't even care at this point, because I was exhausted in that exhausted kind of way that makes you feel slightly still drunk and yet hungover at the same time. Yelled at the cheerleaders to be louder and ate my bacon biscuit. Yelled so loud even some of the football coaches came to attention. Stayed through older daughter's game, chatted with her teacher from last year, glared at The Ex and sent older daughter off with her little friend for the playdate birthday party. I brought the younger daughter home and then promptly took her to my mother's to spend the night because I had a camping-beer drinking kind of thing to go to. Came home, and tried to take a nap, but got sucked into texting and then blew off the camping-beer drinking kind of thing because I really just didn't want to go and run into my emotional cancer. You never know who might show up at these things. 

Sunday - Slept in and then went to my mom's to get the children, who at that point were acting like they had smoked a whole lot of crack because my mother encourages bad behavior. But since she babysits pretty much whenever I need it, I have to just go with it. Rush home and get everyone squared away for cheerleading pictures. We go rushing off to cheerleading pictures and I call The Ex to see if he's going to come and purchase his own pictures. Nope, he's got something else to do and can I just purchase picture packs for him and he'll pay me back. No, motherfucker, I can't. Too bad for you. Have cheerleading practice after the pictures and these girls are NOT going to be ready for the exhibition next week. I don't even know if I care at this point, I'm so burned out on cheerleading. Rush home from cheerleading to do weekend homework and Monday homework because it's elementary school skate night and Mommy has to go to skate night. Clean the house and discover the cat has peed on the carpet in my bedroom. Apparently this is one of those pets that gets randomly pissed off and shares it on the carpet. 

Monday - Oh my god, I made it to work on time. Rush out of work, get the children so we can rush home, eat dinner and get to skate night. Oh, hell, the older daughter got in trouble at school today. She apparently found the one child in her class with the last name of Lassiter and made it a point to explain to him that the word ass is in his last name. So she had to write a letter to the teacher explaining what she did was wrong and that she told her mom about it. I texted The Ex and asked him to call to discuss the matter with her. Oh, he's busy and can't call, he texts back. Uh, can you make a fucking exception? No, he'll call later. Dick. Make her write the letter and just for good measure, make her write another letter to her classmate apologizing for this. Discuss with her that she needs to start minding her own business and I am secretly relieved that the other child's last name is not Dickerson. But all this fucking letter writing means that we're running late for skate night, dammit. I'm not paying money for me to skate for one hour, so I stand around and watch. I almost died when they played the Hokie-Pokie, because this is how I broke my wrist two years ago. I was showing off for my daughter at a skating birthday party, and it was not a pretty fall. I imagine that to someone on the edge of the rink, it probably looked like someone had just flung a dead body out onto the skating rink, because that's the force with which I hit the floor.

Tuesday - I cancelled my training class because fuck it, I don't need to know that shit. I've got my training hours in for the year. Text the older daughter's cheerleading coach and FUCK! We've got cheerleading practice tonight for her. I am so sick of cheerleading practice I don't even know what to do. Rush out of work, get the children, rush home, take off those itchy pantyhose and cram dinner down the children's throats, and off to cheerleading practice. Rush home for homework.

Wednesday - Rush around in the morning trying to pack lunches, pack the older daughter's cheerleadingbookbags and get myself squared away. Get to daycare, try to draw Mr. So-and-So into some bullshit conversation about something. Because I've seen his profile on one of those dating websites and I know he's seen mine, because he hasn't figured out how to hide that he's looking at someones profile like I have. Damn, too many kids running around. Get to work; crazy day there. Decide to cancel younger daughter's cheerleading practice at the last minute as only one coach will be there and one coach can't teach the dance routine. Rush to pick up younger daughter and find out that older daughter dropped the f-bomb on another child that morning. Are you fucking kidding me? I'm blaming this on her father. Text The Ex to tell him, he says he'll call to talk to her later. It's almost 11:00pm and he hasn't called yet. Dick. Rush to McDonald's to get the younger daughter dinner and rush off to the football game to watch the older daughter cheer. Thank god for the older daughter's cheer coach picking her up this afternoon, feeding her dinner, getting her changed and getting her to the game, otherwise she would have been LATE. Oh my god, we finally found a team we could beat. They must really suck. Stand around chit-chatting with the divorced dad who does the concession stand with The Ex and am pleasantly pleased that the moisture and football coach testosterone in the air only accentuates my curls. Why didn't I go curly years ago? It's late and my hair still looks HOT AS SHIT. I rock heels and curls. At the football game, no less. Rush home right after the football game to get homework done and address the f-bomb. Spank because I believe in corporal punishment for severe offenses and this was a severe offense. It's not against the law, and those seven licks she got (one for each year of her life) were pretty tame to the point I was trying not to giggle. But she knows this is the punishment and I know that Mommy must follow through.

Thursday - Work for me, school for the children, cheerleading practice for all of us, homework for some of us. The older daughter has a science test on Friday, so I'll be doing a review of the worksheet with her while I'm driving us all around, since that's really a safe way to drive.

Friday - The Ex's weekend begins, thank god, and I might get my nails done. Or I might not. All depends, and on what I'm not saying.

Saturday - Cheerleading on Saturday morning, helping my mother's husband do a catering thing in the afternoon. I insisted that I be the drink person because I'm pretty sure my sparkling personality and super cute hairdo can draw some drunk motherfuckers in to buy copious amounts of food at this wine festival he's catering, and because a hair net makes me look not-so-hot. Saturday night is up in the air. I feel some TV time coming on. All depends. The Ex will be running around willy-nilly dropping both children off at various birthday parties. I don't feel sorry for him. I will probably work on the older daughter's pumpkin project on this day, too, because yes, I do some of her projects for her.

Sunday - Older daughter's cheerleading competition at 10 something in the morning, but The Ex needs to have her at the competition site at 8:15. That sucks for him. I plan on rolling in at about 9 something. Cheerleading practice at 4-ish, let's hope these girls show up because they have to know this dance routine. Sunday night we start all over.

Monday - I work late at work, so my mother will pick up the children, bring them home and instead of feeding them dinner and doing homework in an orderly fashion, she will let them smoke crack. Not really, but that's what it seems like every Monday night that I have to work late.

Tuesday - Cheerleading practice for the younger daughter. Last night to prepare for her exhibition. This is also the day I need to have 25 fall-themed plates and napkins in to the older daughter's teacher for their fall party.

Wednesday - Younger daughter's cheerleading exhibition that night. Did I mention I'm over cheerleading?

Thursday - There is no way we're having cheerleading practice, simply no way. I'll kill myself.

Friday - Rush around and finish off the Halloween costumes. The older daughter is going to be a cowgirl and the younger daughter is going to be a ballerina witch.

Saturday - I have a wedding party kind of thing to go to. I'm going alone because I'm hoping some hot single guy will be there. The children have an end of cheerleading season party, and I've arranged to have The Ex and his girlfriend go, because that will make him the fucking hero. I need to chip in the cake, though, and that means I will need to have remembered to pre-order the damn thing before Wednesday.

Sunday - My busiest workday of the year - Halloween. I'm not saying why. Get the children squared away, off to The Ex's for trick-or-treating, and that will make him the fucking hero because Mommy has to work on Halloween. Whatever, I've taken the last five Halloweens off and it's my turn to get busy out there. The children are spending the night with him, so he'll really be the hero. I'm excited about being alone on a Sunday night after work. Mad Men.

The Monday after that - Teacher workday, parent-teacher conferences and the older daughter's annual eye doctor appointment, which means I am taking the day off. I am not looking forward to these conferences because guess who is going to be there? Yep, dickface. And he's going to sit there and act all concerned and involved and like the father of the year that I know he's not. Did I mention it's now 11:13pm and he still never called to discuss the whole f-bomb thing? It's at times like I know the parent-teacher conference that I want to look at him, or the teacher, and explain that one of the benefits to me leaving him is never having to look at his small penis again.

Tuesday - Another teacher workday, so unless I want to pay extra money to Mr. So-and-So, I need to find someone to watch the children that day. Fabulous. Maybe I can get the parents of Mr. Small Penis to watch them.

I could go on and on, but my calendar is in the car and does it really matter?  It's no wonder I don't have time to date.

Adventures in Online Dating #3

So I'm not done with the online dating thing. I changed my mind yet again. What really happened is that I was attracting a lot of bottom feeders and I got freaked out. I was getting an insane amount of emails, guys liking me, guys wanting to hook up, and it was too much. I haven't had this much attention since the last time I walked through a chow hall in prison. So I just needed to crawl back into myself and try to figure out WHY ARE ALL OF THESE UGLY MOTHERFUCKERS GETTING IN TOUCH WITH ME?????

Like I said, bottom feeders. These dudes are u.g.l.y. And yes, I am a shallow, shallow bitch when it comes to looks. I'm sorry, but I don't date ugly guys. I've got that +/-2 thing going on. No one under a 5, no one over a 9. And if I have a choice between an 8 and 5, well, guess which one I'm going with? And no, this isn't part of me raising my standards, because I've always been shallow like this. So if you're reading this, and we've ever dated, consider yourself lucky. Not many make the cut, despite all my shit talking. I'm raising my standards in other areas, but I'm good with what I like in the way of appearances.

I don't know about a whole lot about fishing, other than the best nightcrawlers come from a pig pen, and that actually having to touch one makes me scream, but if I had to classify myself as a fish, it would be a top feeder. I just looked that up on Wikipedia, and there is no such thing, but I'm going to make it a thing. We'll call a top feeder the exact opposite of a bottom feeder. So I don't know what kind of fish eat off the top, or even float around up there, but if I had to pick one that I would classify as a top feeder, it would be a koi. I don't know anything about koi for real, other than what I see at the large public park in the city with fancy Japanese and Italian gardens. But they have tons of koi, and they seem very pretty and quite intelligent. That's definitely me. I'm a koi. And I think that as a koi, I would not mix well with a catfish or even a sea cucumber, which sounds kind of dirty.

But that's what I'm getting. Catfish. And other bottom feeders. And I don't want catfish. I want other pretty fish that float around near the top and will take me over to the side of the pond where the children throw their goldfish crackers in, and I want that pretty koi to catch goldfish for me and whisper stuff about what we'll do in the deep part of the pond later. So I kind of freaked out, and hid my profile, and then went to another site that a faithful reader had pointed me to (shout out!) and got registered with them. And was a little more selective in trying to describe what I want. In fact, here's a blurb from my profile: "I would prefer to get to know men who are college educated, professionally employed, have children, are taller than me, have a good sense of humor, clean cut (a little stubble = good; a mountain man beard = not good) and a little cocky. I'm a little shallow about looks, but at least I'm woman enough to admit it. I'd also prefer that you live in the metro Richmond area." Yeah, that's actually on my profile. I'm trying to weed through the bottom feeders. I mean, is this so fucking hard to find????

I must have overdone it, because my inbox is seeing the same amount of action as some of my girl parts, because nothing is happening. I open my inbox and hear *crickets*. Nothing. I will say, though, there are about 100,000 less users on this site than the previous one, so I've eliminated a bunch of guys, maybe 50 to 60k of them? And the other thing is that this website actually matches people based upon their personalities--well, kind of--so I've got guys I'm a good match with, but they are not my type physically. I'm sorry, I'm not going to go out with someone who fucking looks like Ted Kaczynski. Or John Boy. Or Mr. T. Or a redhead. Or a liberal. And no, I can't go outside of the box on this one. Sorry. Just won't do it.

As for these ugly guys, well, I don't have to be nice and answer all of these emails. I'll ignore that some of these guys have emailed me more than once. Okay, if I have responded in a day or two, I'm probably not. Move the fuck on. If I've seen you on craigslist, or a whole other new website I just found out about that's like craigslist but with video chat, I won't be getting back with you. Ever. And thanks for using the same pics on all of these sites, it helps me to weed you bottom feeders out.

The other issue that I have is that I realized tonight I don't have time for this shit. I don't have time to date. My weekends are booked up through the beginning to middle of November, and my weeknights are not free at all, what with the children and homework and school activities and The Ex bringing them back early so he can go and do whatever the fuck he does, so I might possibly be able to pencil someone in here or there. If they're hot, and talk mad game, I might totally erase a camping thing like I did this past weekend and Sharpie you in. But that doesn't seem to be the norm here. Where can I find the hot, educated and employed guy website?