Black Magic Woman

I half-suspected the witchiness to subside once I made it public, but the complete opposite has happened. It's probably just because I'm thinking about it that I am noticing it more, but I don't know. If I turn off my inner skeptic, it's pretty easy to believe that I am more receptive to cosmic energy right now. Following that logic(?), perhaps my heightened awareness is an annual event around the time of my birth due to the alignment of the stars...

Anyway, here are the two biggest oddities and further witchy evidence of the day:

1) Mac and cheese is "a uniter, not a divider". (If you don't get the reference, you are way too young, but let me help you out with that: http://lmgtfy.com/?q=uniter+not+a+divider.) Mac and cheese united deliciously on my FB news feed and in my belly this week:

 
2) Heidi Klum is totally in on it. Here is proof: 

I didn't want to mention it in my original Witchy Woman post, but a prior witch precedent has been established in my family. My dad sent me the following message today "You know that your mother is a witch?" I replied that I remembered stories, but I didn't want to "out" her on the internet. That was before I channeled a supermodel to sing me "Happy Birthday", though. So, yeah. Apparently, my family business is witching and as the eldest daughter in my extended family, the universe is grooming me to take over. I'm not sure I can handle that kind of responsibility.

Catching Up

I've been out of the blogosphere for months. There has been lots to write but I was just too busy and then there was more to write but then I was busier...and then I was reminded that there is nothing worse than missing the chance to say the things that need to be said. For more on that, please check out the new Remembering Rob page I have added to the blog. I will just be adding new entries to the bottom of that page and may not announce updates, so just check back if you're missing Rob. (It might notify you of updates if you "follow" the blog, but I really have no idea.)

This post shall serve as my MercyDates catch up post. It was originally going to include a whole potpourri of holidays and friends and family and football and philosophy, but I think it's easier to just go back to the basics. In other words: can MathMercy get a date? 

I was about to say that I haven't been dating so there's not much to report, but since I haven't written anything about dating for about half a year, I do have some things to tell. I guess the best way to catch up is to give a little run-down of the methods I have employed since we last met.

Tinder

I believe the last dating method I mentioned here was Tinder. Here's the thing about Tinder. Plain and simple, it's a hook-up app. I was enchanted by the mutual consent to communicate aspect, but when you get right down to it, it's a hook-up app. That's fine if you're looking for that, and I'll admit at the time, I kinda was. (Don't you dare judge me. MathMercy has needs that hadn't been met for a while.) However, the only guy I saw more than once turned out to be, in a word, creepy. 

Tinder Guy was super cute, had a really cool job (verified by Google!), was smart, artistic, a great conversationalist, and a good kisser. The only drawback after our first date was that his divorce wasn't final yet, so he was technically still a married man. He was separated, though, so I decided to let that be his problem, not mine. A few days after our third or fourth date, he sent me a text and asked if I would be willing to lock him in chastity. I had no idea what that meant, so he explained that it meant he wanted to give me the key to a lock around, um, his junk. I'm not sure if the lock is to prevent the guy from starting or finishing, but he said it would allow him to devote himself to my pleasure and be my slave. Let me stop right here and tell you that the most I had done with Tinder Guy up to this point was give him a massage. I do give a damn fine back rub but I'm not sure that it's good enough to merit someone becoming my own personal slave. Maybe, though. I probably need lots of hunky men with sore backs to test out just how magic these hands are. ;)

I wish I could say that I ran screaming from that conversation right away. I really, really do, but I have to be completely honest in my blog confessional. In my defense, I've been out of the game for so long...for all I know, this might be considered a semi-normal part of the courtship ritual these days. I mean, 50 Shades of Grey put S&M and soft-core porn in the hands of millions of bored housewives and PTA moms for heaven's sake. I decided I needed to bring this to committee. I presented the proposal to my Vegas traveling companions and asked what they thought. On the one hand, oh my gosh holy shit SO WEIRD, right? How many keys was Tinder Guy handing out to Tinder dates that he barely knows anyway? On the other hand, it had been a long time since I'd had a man offer to do anything I wanted him to do. Maybe he just meant he would come over and change light bulbs, take the trash out to the curb, cook, clean my house naked (except for the junk lock of course), and then go home. If I'm being completely honest, that wouldn't be so bad. (I'm laughing right now, remembering how Rob always talked about finding a "houseboy" to come live in our apartment and do exactly that for us. He would have been so proud.) I decided such an arrangement would require some sort of contract stating that I held the only key, and such a contract was way more commitment than I wanted with anyone. Done with Tinder Guy. Done with Tinder.

OK Cupid

After leaving Tinder, I decided to give OK Cupid a try. I know four happy OK Cupid couples, including two weddings I've attended in the past year, so why not give it a shot? The basic account is free like Plenty of Fish and Tinder, but what sets it apart from those sites is that you answer roughly a zillion questions to try to get a perfect match using some fancy algorithm. Trying to find the end of the questions became like a game to me during the first week or two, which meant I was on the app a lot. I got lots of hits, went on dates with a few different guys who turned out to be as good at blowing people off as I am.

The most recent disappearing paramour was really cool. We had a pretty hot text flirtation going for a couple weeks, and when we finally had our first date, we hit it off right away. We had a great time each time we met and things were progressing pretty rapidly. After our 4th or 5th date, he started texting less frequently. He said something about a family emergency taking him back to Texas for a week...and then another...and then he stopped initiating text messages...and then I figured that either he was honestly way too busy for me or I was getting the world's longest and most passive aggressive blow-off. Either way, I'm out.

After that experience, I just wasn't inspired to invest any more energy in trying to meet or get to know someone through the site anymore. I still log on every now and then to read messages that have been sent to me, but none have caught my attention and I'm no longer browsing for a date. In summary, I'm so glad that I know so many happy couples who met through the site, but for me, OK Cupid was just OK. Turns out that just OK is just not enough to combat my short attention span and lazy tendencies.

The Pick-Up and The Set-Up
Outside of online dating, I have tried some more traditional methods of meeting a date: the Pick-Up and the Set-Up. The Pick-Up happens when a middle-aged divorcee unexpectedly finds herself out with a crazy friend on a Saturday night and decides to see if she can do the Pick-Up. She can. I don't know why I feel the need to defend the last shred of my questionable honor here, but I do: It only happened once.

The Set-Up is actually very sweet, but impractical. The Set-Up is a date arranged and chaperoned by a concerned mother playing matchmaker. My first matchmaker was my friend's Jewish Russian mother (it doesn't get more perfect than that!), who dated me and her sweet Russian friend. The second matchmaker is my mother's friend, who dinner party dated me and her cute psychiatrist neighbor. I like the idea of having someone else vet a potential date for me and be there to keep the conversation flowing, but then the matchmaker mom becomes a middle-man mom and it's probably awkward if the dude isn't actually that into me...or needs the mom as a translator. Anyway, the Set-Up hasn't resulted in any second dates for me.

Lowered Expectations
Remember this from Mad TV?

Sigh. I joined a professional matchmaking service, a service that happens to include filming a video profile. I'm not proud of it, but you have to admit that it is the logical next step in my journey. I have actually paid money for someone else to find me potential dates for the next three years. That is the epitome of laziness.

Here are all my ridiculous rationalizations: I may not be looking for a husband, but nor do I want to be a crazy cat lady spinster in my forties. They plan activities for me. All the members are pre-screened with credit and criminal background checks as a condition for membership, so dudes are (theoretically) the same as represented by their profile and photos, and all the photos are taken in-house by a professional photographer. Even if I don't get a single date out of the membership, I could justify it by saying that I just paid a butt-load of money for my first ever Glamour Shots, which could possibly be a business expense if instead of dying of embarrassment I decide to run off and become an actress in the next year. The photographer did a great job and my friend had transformed me with a curling iron and makeup brushes, so I'm willing to say the photos alone are worth it.

Ok, are you ready for the real punchline? It turns out the company was formerly known as Great Expectations, the same one spoofed by Mad TV. I have truly Lowered Expectations. Hilarious!

  

Rings and Things

Sorry I haven't written for so long. I have been really busy with work and just haven't had anything that exciting to write about on the dating front. This is going to be a bit of a potpourri catch-up post.

First and foremost, my Seattle Seahawks won the Super Bowl! Three weeks after the win, the Seahawks balloon that I bought the night before Super Bowl XLVIII is still bobbing in my living room as the greatest cat toy ever. My Sundays feel empty now...27 1/2 weeks until kickoff, but who's counting?

Just like the Seahawks got their rings, I got mine, and I feel like I worked just as hard for it as they did. I wanted to do something with my engagement ring to make it more relevant, so I took it and an amethyst my grandmother gave me a few years ago to the jeweler who made the ring. I envisioned making a big-ass blingy ring with the amethyst and all the diamonds from my ring, but the jeweler talked me out of it. Perhaps I didn't properly communicate to him that I am totally at peace with my inner Jewish American Princess. In any case, he convinced me that an amethyst of that size would just get scratched as a ring, so I should turn it into a pendant instead. Three hours later, I had designed a pendant using the amethyst and the center diamond from my ring, selected a new stone for the ring, and had charged an amount greater than my rent to my debit card. I won't confess what I paid for the jewelry, but I will say that it was by far more money than I have ever spent on myself. For something so frivolous too! It actually felt gloriously symbolic of my independence to be able to pay for my very own baubles for no other reason than I wanted them. Happily, when I picked up the ring and pendant, I also received appraisals stating the combined value was nearly four times what I'd paid, so I think I did a pretty good job for myself. Plus, they are so sparkly! I love sparkly.

Football, jewelry, what's next? Oh yeah. Dating. Not much happening with the online dating because I'm just not that motivated anymore. I'm kind of over the get-to-know-you and decide if we should meet in person messages. After about five, you start to realize that you're having the same conversation with five different people. There may be plenty of fish in the sea, but not many of them stand out. I had a funny conversation the other day with another Plenty of Fish-er about the similarities in POF dudes. It turns out that there are also some generational differences. A bit younger than me, my friend E's preferred age range is 25-40, while mine is 35-45. Upon comparing notes, here's what we determined: Men in their late 20s and early 30s claim to be artists and musicians, but the dream dies in their mid-to-late 30s, at which point they become personal trainers. As men move from E's accepted age range into mine, they apparently take up hiking and MMA fighting. Seriously. You have no idea how many guys claim to be MMA fighters and/or personal trainers on POF, and they ALL hike. In my age range, there are also a lot of truck drivers. I'm not sure what's up with that, but there have been enough that it bears mentioning. I'm not a snob, but I'm not looking for a truck driver. Nor am I looking for a delusional "MMA fighter" or "personal trainer". 

Honestly, I'm not really looking for anybody, which makes online dating seem like a waste of time. I don't want a relationship, and I obviously don't want a one night stand. I still have enough dates to keep me from being a total spinster, and I have plenty of free time to myself and no weird pressure. Sure, there are times when it would be nice to have someone next to me, but I don't want it all the time. In truth, I think I just like receiving attention. There's nothing wrong with that, right? The other night I gave my number to a 26 year old hottie solely because he flattered me by saying he wouldn't have guessed I'm older than 28. 26 is really young. Then again, if I'm not looking for anything in particular, should age matter? We've been texting since Friday and just exchanged POF user names. Honestly, if he weren't so young, he would be a hot prospect. He has a masters degree, is an architect/contractor, grew up in Montana, and he can spell and punctuate. Am I ready to own being a cougar? Stay tuned, gentle reader. Stay tuned. 

Playoff Dates

I could not be more excited that the Seahawks are going to the playoffs with home field advantage. Scratch that. I could be more excited if I were going to a playoff game. Tickets went on sale at 10am this morning. I set my alarm, pointed two laptops and my phone to the Ticketmaster site, grabbed my debit card, and started refreshing the page at 9:50am. No dice.

Once I accepted the fact that I was not going to be able to obtain tickets, I consoled myself by purchasing one of these limited edition Super Seahawks t-shirts. Here's the link so you can get one of your very own: teespring.com/superseattleseahawks.

Back to the tickets. Plan A was a bust. Plan B would be to spend all afternoon at the stupid mall on Monday in the hopes of purchasing a $10 lottery ticket for the chance to win a playoff game prize package. I'm not really the waiting in line type and I've already scheduled a daytime date with my friend T to see Anchorman 2, so Plan B probably won't happen.

...Which brings me to Plan C. Would it be totally unacceptable to change my POF profile to read: "I will date you for a playoff ticket. No ticket = No date"? Before you pipe up, you have to at least hear me out. I literally couldn't be more honest. I would have no ulterior motive, unlike the majority of online dating profiles, which are basically thinly veiled requests to get in someone's pants. Why make someone wade through a whole long description of myself and my criteria for a date when, really, the only thing that matters to me is the football game? They don't even have to like me, and I don't have to like them! What's three hours sitting next to a stranger in the loudest place on earth, right? I suppose I would have to bring something to the table other than my sparkling conversation to make the deal happen, though. Maybe a super sweet Super Seahawks shirt would sweeten the pot? Yeah, probably not.

P.S. I hate to ask, but if you enjoy my blog, would you consider sharing it or becoming a follower by email? I hate to keep posting on Facebook because it feels like I am forcing it on ALL of my friends. Thanks, and Happy New Year!

Sparkle

This photo just makes me so happy: Seahawks football, Christmas lights, sparkly heart. 

Merry Hawksmas!

After I posted my original shot, I received a notification from Google+ that I had a new Auto Awesome photo. I had never heard of Auto Awesome, and I was skeptical. Oh really, Google? That's a pretty bold statement. I think I'll be the judge of what's...Holy shit! That is awesome! Google just made my sparkly heart actually sparkle! I could NOT be more delighted.

I have lots more to write, but not now. It's almost time for football.

First First Date

Yesterday I went on my first ever first date. How weird is that? I have never really dated, and all of my former boyfriends (and husband) were men that I already knew as friends or coworkers. Thus, this was basically my first blind date.

I was hoping to have a funny first date story to tell here, but it was actually fine. I'm not attracted to him (a bit too ginger for me), but I had a good time, made a new friend, and the Seahawks won.