Pisces...just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water...

this blog entry deserves thousands of syllables.  I will attempt to provide that someday when I'm actually OVER my experience with a Pisces enough to discuss it rationally...sort of.   The truth is, it still stings.  So here is the unfettered, uncensored, unsugar-coated truth according to me, about Pisces (men).

Narcissists.  when you cease to serve the purpose they had you in mind for, namely to make them feel good about themselves  at all times, they discard you.  If you call them on their bullshit or question the constructs of their reality, or suggest that YOU have needs of an emotional nature too, boom.  They eat you.

Indecisive.  They always come back for more. to eat you.

Cruel.  To extricate themselves from a situation that they got into, they will say the cruelest, meanest things just to get you to shut up and go away.  They invented unfair fighting.  They will say things that aren't true just to maintain their narcissistic view of the world.  they eat you. slowly like zombies eat the guts of a living person.

Delusional.  They create their own reality. See also, narcissist.  also, they will eat anyone who messes with their reality.

Asshole.  See all of the above

Shark.  Plecostomus.  tomaytoe, tomahtoe.

I actually shun Pisces as soon as I see them coming...(almost as fast as Hannibal Lecter-esque Scorpios.<insert theme music from JAWS here>

Love and Passports and IP addresses

So...I'm no novice at this online dating thing.  I'm not new, or green, or naive. I have a healthy sense of caution.   Some times that shows up as a little jaded.  I'm sure I've been paranoid.  But mostly, I'm pretty smart. savvy, even.  I know myself, I know how to spot bullshit, and I mostly avoid it.  But sometimes...

Mercury has been retrograde for about 6 weeks now.  During that time my love life has been predictably TEFLON.  a couple friends were like "Next!" when I told them about a few of my recent dates. I was determined to challenge long held beliefs during this retrograde - right down to my beliefs about retrograde itself!  I was trying to be all broad-minded and question the fear.  Its just mercury. I'm not signing a document. I'm not making a decision. sure, I could feel differently about this guy in a couple weeks but this isn't necessarily doomed just because of mercury.  I mean...relationships are not necessarily mercury regulated. And its in Aquarius so...ok whatever.

And I just realized today what happened during retrograde.  Funny that TODAY I could see more clearly. Today...the day Mercury went direct.  Whatevs.

What I did during MercRx was question all my boundaries and beliefs in regards to love.  I looked at certain boundaries and went "why is that there? who said I can or can't do that?"  And so...I dated a Scorpio. And thought about dating another Pisces. I dated men that are not my type: short ones, Buddhist ones, recovering alcholic ones, ones that don't want any kids, old ones. (In fairness, the Buddhist was really hot, and I'd much rather have a recovering alcoholic than an active one.   I'm an equal opportunity dater)  Yes. I had a bit of a spree.  And thumbed my nose at Mercury.  And threw caution to the wind and chose to believe a man when he seemed sincere.

And so we come to Leo guy.  But his birthday is irrelevant because its probably made up.  Whats interesting about him is that I talked to him at all.  He was so sincere. I immediately questioned it.  And then I thought OMG dating has RUINED me to the point that I can't believe a man when he seems sincere! I'm an awful jaded bitch.  I am so broken and bitter.  Oh the humanity!!

So I chose to go along with this.  A man living near me, working as a painting contractor.  Not an attorney or some kind of high profile millionaire bullshit. Nope. Painting contractor.  And a widower. awwww.  Born in Germany but living in CA since high school.  His wife died 3 years ago.  And he's ready to move on.

deep breath, girl.  You can do this for a minute.

OK. I can do this.  sure. He's sweet.  He's really sweet.  And really cute. and German. That's new. That's hot. OK. 

And then the phone call.

His voice was SO deep I had trouble understanding it.  Oh and also there was the THICK and overwhelming accent.  And it didn't sound German. And I know accents.

Girl, you're not invested...just flow.

OK.

Then the emails and the story of his life.  and some quiet questions rearing up in my mind.

Its OK girl. You are not invested. Just see it out.

OK

Then I asked his last name.  He provided it.

Google turned up nothing.  anywhere. Oh wait...look...let's click this LinkedIn profile...oh hot damn there he is.  Aw he's so cute.  Oh...painting contractor. OK.  oh...ZERO connections.  zero. none.

oh look he went to college...at the Philadelphia ART school???  painting contractor?

hmmm.  I returned to my email and dug into the code of the headers.  This is geek speak that means I was looking for the IP address from whence the email came.

I found it. I traced it.

well get out the disco ball, friends.  Sound the music.  I'm a fucking genius detective.  Homie is emailing me from a NIGERIAN IP address!!

NIGERIA people.  Land of the ...idanno. and home of every internet scam ever known!!!

locked. blocked. reported. disgusted.


boom.  my boundaries are validated.  again.

so let's recap our MercRx experience:

NO SCORPIOS. confirmed.

NO PISCES. confirmed.

NO SWEET GERMAN WIDOWERS WITH FREAKISHLY DEEP VOICES! ewwwww. gawd!!!

I've shut down all my dating profiles and I'm taking up knitting.  Mostly because knitting needles are kinda badass weapons. And ya know...scarves and cute hats and shit.  My dog needs accessories.

Cinco de Mayo on the spacecraft

I now recount to you, with xanax in hand, one of my very first actual dates resulting from an online encounter.

He was a scorpio.  I didn't know yet that this was ominous and awful.

We talked for weeks...text, phone.  Photos  Nothing crazy.  No requests for naked photos.  No dick pix.  He was interesting.  He asked a lot of questions and that seemed boring to me but he was OKish.

He lived at the coast and asked me to visit.  After a few weeks I found time and did.  I had a cuuuuute little hotel room for a bargain price ON the beach.  It was Cinco de Mayo.  A weekend to myself.  He had promised me a fire on the beach, with wine, a nice dinner, some kissing.  Happy sigh.  I was freshly separated and in an on again off again relationship that was angsty.  So this sounded romantic and divine. 

We arranged to meet at my hotel's sun deck.  Being from the area, he was familiar with the spot. But when he got there, he became...confused...and couldn't see the giant writing on the wall pointing up the stairs that said "sun deck".

Maybe he was nervous.  so I met him at the door of my room.

What? what's that sound? is that an alarm? shhh. I'm telling a story.

did someone drop this red flag? ok anyway...

He looked uncomfortable.  He dropped off a duffle bag and suggested some wine. I said "'let's go back up to the roof, its beautiful".  "No let's stay here" he said

what the hell is that sound???

He proceeds to tell me that he's somewhat disappointed with my appearance (and btw he looked NOTHING like his photos. Hello Irony).  I proceeded to tell him he was an asshole.  He apologized and we drank wine in silence.  and then....his hand is up my shirt.

And then I said "um what the fuck? did you not just tell me that I wasn't what you expected? But your hand is up my shirt???"

He spluttered out some bullshit I don't remember and then...it happened.  He "kissed" me.

I left my body. So what I really think happened is that the Aliens took me aboard and probed my mouth...with a cow tongue.  My mouth was ratcheted open by his massive jaw. My face was engulfed from nose to chin.  His tongue was FLOPPING around in my mouth. Like a cow tongue...having a siezure.  I'm not even exaggerating.  If a kiss can be like an assault, this was.  My mouth was like being raped by a cow.

He was 44.  divorced.  how had he lived this long (and reproduced) and no one ever told him "that is NOT kissing!"???

I pushed him away from me and caught my breath, whilst squeegee-ing my face off.  He left.  I cried and called everyone I knew.

You can turn off the alarm and stop throwing those red flags at me.  I see them now.  everywhere. thanks. 

Did you ever chew on your bic pen in Jr. High? Do you remember that smell of dried saliva?
That is what the entire lower portion of my face smelled like.  People...I could smell my own face!!!

More crying.

I took myself to dinner and told the waitress the story. She sat down with me. After her shift she had a drink with me. We laughed. I went back to the hotel and cried some more.

HE blocked ME on the dating site. haha.  uh..yeah.

Must love ...letters in the proper order

Then there was the chap would couldn't spell.

"I hope you are haveing a good day"

"I am takeing my niece to a movie"

"I whent to sleep"

"wood you like to go on a date with me?"

are you fucking kidding me? My village and I tried to make sense of it. Maybe he was using voice to text. Maybe he was foreign.

No. he was from Ventura and we're pretty sure that the almighty autocorrect gods or voice to text would correct WOOD to would. or for sure removed the e from Takeing and Haveing.

WHENT?? what the fuck??

no. no.  just so much no.

Probably a nice guy. If this wasn't internet dating I probably would date him. and he's probably great. but someday he's going to leave me a note on the kitchen table, or email me and I'm going to hate him and want to smother him with a pillow for sins like "whent".

god. 

Hannibal and Fish Hooks.

This blog has been a long time in the making.  I've been dating and relationshiping since I left my husband in 2010. 
There are so many stories I don't really know where to start.  So I'll start with this week.  And as stories creep back into my mind because of some relevant coincidence, I'll share.

Dating is no picnic.  Dating in your 40's...well...its a fucking circus.  Complete with a freakshow...24 hours a day.  And I hate clowns.  I really really hate clowns.  I hate all that fucking paint and their big fake smile and jokey nose.  Who are they really? Why are they pretending to be happy, or sad, or whatever? Who cares.

So I guess I'll start with what I know at the moment.

Scorpios. Let's start with them.  I have NEVER and I mean NEVER gotten along with Scorpio men.  They are diggers. They dig dig dig into your brain because they want to know everything right now.  They must know and understand.  And they will try to crack open your skull and eat your identity with a spoon like so much Hannibal Lecter.  The problem is....they like to tell me who they think I am.  And guess what...if there is anyone who really knows who they are, its probably and Aquarius (that's me).  I still struggle to describe myself.  I can't twitter. or tweet or whatever the hell its called. Why? Because 140 characters is just silly.  I can't even describe my hair in 140 characters. So there is no way some stupid dude who just met me is going to figure me out. And why do they neeeeeed to figure me out? why not just enjoy me? Enjoy my sensuality and my goofy sense of humor, my cooking, my kissing...why not occasionally just shut the fuck up and don't try to figure me out?? Why?

If you put me in a room full of men (sometimes that's an appealing idea. Sometimes its horrifying) I could pick out all the Tauruses and all the Scorpios.

Taurus men...I want to lick them.

Scorpio men...I want to punch them in the throat before they even speak because they are looking at me like they have a spoon in their pocket.

So...because I am an open minded idiot. Sometimes I bend the rules - because that's what they are for. I'm an Aquarius...I live to bend rules, right?

So sometimes I will date someone that I know is most likely wrong for me because I'm a moronic romantic who thinks "but what IF...?"

So I went out with a Scorpio.  The conversation started out OK.  Then it became intense with that whole Hannibal thing. Then I pushed back.  Then we went on an actual date. Then we never spoke again.

For one, he said he was 5'8".  I know as well as you do that 90% of men under 5'9" lie about their height. Well he was probably 5'5".  Which...ok whatever.  I was married to a man who was 5'5".  I wasn't attracted to short men then and I"m not now. But I didn't leave him because he was short.

And I didn't not date this guy because he was short.  I didn't date him because he was an asshole...and my intuition was spot on.

That morning I really wanted to cancel. but I fought with myself. And I went anyway.

Scorps are notoriously amazing lovers. Guess what? I'll never know.  I can't even have a conversation with one.

Then there are the Pisces.  Good God in Heaven I don't know why they even exist.  They are supposedly the most evolved of the zodiac.  ha.   hahahaha.  Sorry. I'll compose myself.

Fish.  no.  They are sharks.   Notice in the word SELFISH the word "fish"? yep.   They are attracted to bight colors, to light and sparkle. They come in to the water where they see that light and they feed on all the rich goodness. They love the deep water. They love swimming in the depths. They love passion, if its their doing, and they love intensity, unless its yours.  They get their fill of passion and love feelings and after they've swallowed your hook, they swim off into the vast ocean...with the hook connected to your guts.

visual: Mel Gibson at the end of Braveheart.

yep. 

and I dated a Pisces recently that took off with my hook in his mouth.  Then I met another one recently. But I couldn't go through with the actual date because ...well. I'm trying really hard not to be a moron.   It just didn't feel like IT.

So instead I have cooked the most amazing food all weekend.  And I'm drinking Sangria with blood oranges.  watching tragic movies.  eating girl scout cookies.  talking to girlfriends in various forms of life crises.

And I'm happy. I really am happy.

If only I could make out with myself...