Wednesday, January 4, 2012

2011: Sex, Dating, and Still Single

Early January is the time when bloggers do their "year in review" sorts of posts. Considering the core nature of my blog, I figured I'd do a sex/dating year in review. ARE YOU SHOCKED?

Let's see... I rang in 2011 at my usual bar, with a guy I barely knew and his cousins. I think one of the cousins was flirting with me a little, and I made a point of tooting my paper horn at midnight so he wouldn't get any kissy-face ideas. It's been a few years now since I've had someone with whom to share that traditional midnight smooch, and the last guy barely counts because it turns out he'd already mentally and emotionally checked out of our relationship by that time.

Somewhere in late-ish January, I went to the opening of a new bar in my 'hood, and made friends with a cutie patootie sitting by me. Once again, I know, you're SHOCKED. He walked me home that night, and we started hanging out. We also texted a little and even talked on the phone (okay, now you might actually be shocked without the sarcasm, because I? I hate talking on the phone). Genie and I called him "Iron Man" because he biked everywhere and played soccer, and had thighs of adamantium (he and I discussed it... they were not thighs of steel, no... they were much cooler). We had loads of fun together and I really liked him and he seemed to quite like me as well... except... he's number 7. He really was a busy dude, what with 2 jobs, soccer, and partial custody of his toddler son, but come ON. Even after he lost one job and stopped playing soccer, still no time? After a while, I got fed up and stopped responding to his late-night texts, which I'd realized were booty calls, and things petered out.

Hee. Peter.

We've IM'ed a few times since then as friends, but have not seen each other since before my vacation in March. Iron Man is an okay guy, just young and confused and all wrong for me.

I believe the next major player was Scooter. Oh, Scooter. What is there left to say that I haven't already said? His insanity really helped push this blog in its infancy, so I guess I could thank him for that. I'd like to reiterate that I NEVER SLEPT WITH HIM EVER. He never even got to touch my boobs. Also I'm pretty sure he's gone now (knock on wood). So long, Scooter, and thanks for all the blog fodder.

Let's seeeeeeee.... I'm sure there were some dates/sexy times here and there that I'm forgetting. Is it awful that I can forget that sort of thing? It seems every year, my "love" life gets a bit more pathetic and one-night-standy. I can't be expected to recall every stupid decision I made in the last year! I know somewhere in there I had a really lovely date with a nice (and very flattering) young man who treated me very well, but when it came down to it I felt we were just better as friends (and we still are friends! and he reads this blog! HI! You're a sweetheart!).

So then we come to Desk, another one there's not much left to say anything about. We spent a considerable amount of time together, and I feel like he changed me in some ways that maybe I haven't fully explored still. Some positive, some negative. Unfortunately, I think considering the way things ended with us, the negative effects are what stuck.

...but HOLY FUCKING HELL was he ever good in bed. I still get a little tingly remembering his kisses. Whyyyyyy did he have to be such a pretentious ass?? Hands down, he's in the top 5 best kissers AND bedmates of my life. And that is kind of saying something. I suck at rating things so I'm not sure exactly where he'd fall in there, but there's NO question he's top 5.

Let's see, let's see... I rode naked in a bicycle parade in the cold and made out with some dude. I had a couple of one-night stands with some guys who were in the top 5 worst kissers and bedmates... one of them was so awful I wrote about it here. I gave an in-car blowjob to a former FWB known as Hipster Doofus when I went to his band's show, thus cementing my standing in the Classy Women Club.

I made arrangements for a new FWB, but got tired of it after a while. The sex was absolutely fantastic (as I said to Genie at the time, "he's seriously got the best dick. I can't seem to keep it out of my mouth"), but the guy himself was fairly dull, and always always always wanted to talk dirty. Watching a movie? Talk dirty. Eating dinner? Talk dirty. NONONO. It was annoying, and sadly it's been hard to re-establish the F without the B because he still can't seem to go a whole conversation without referencing his big, lonely bed, or saying I could call him any time [insert meaningful eyebrow raise here].

There was a Danish guy that I met while volunteering. He was wicked cute and we got along great, but he postponed more dates than we ever had. He is numbers 5 and 8, and until those things happened, I was fairly smitten. Damn Dane.

Somewhere along the line I started dating the Swede (I guess it was my year of sexy foreign accents or something). He was pretty damn awesome when we were just dating, but I knew he wanted a Relationship. I was having a great time with him and in one particularly sappy moment, I relented and said, "Wanna be my boyfriend?" He was elated, and it was like I'd flipped some kind of switch inside of him from Pretty Fun Guy to Clingy Desperate Sad Person. For the record? NOT ATTRACTIVE. I loved when his dog made sad "pay attention to me" puppy dog eyes at me, but not when he did, and it was becoming more and more the norm. I also wrote about that breakup.

Later in the year, I ran into a guy I'd met the year before. We re-met, and thanks to me being friends with his roommate, I ended up hanging out at his house a couple of times. We started dating, mostly because I thought he was irresistible and made that very, very clear to him (he is less than forward with the ladies). For about 2 1/2 weeks, it was awesome. I was super happy, and he seemed happy. We clicked in ways neither of us were used to (according to him, but who knows, maybe it was just me). But then he decided he was too young (and stupid, in my opinion) to get tied down at this point in his life, so he made it clear he wanted to be free to bone other girls. Not date them. Just bone them. If the opportunity should present itself.


At first I said, okay, you're right. You're a young guy. You have fun, but be safe, and let's do this open and honest thing. If I see other people, I tell you, and vice versa. We settled on "seeing each other" as our nomenclature for the situation, and I felt good about it. We'd briefly tried to be "just friends" but every time we hung out, we'd end up together, so now we didn't have to try to resist that.

A few days into this arrangement, though, I realized I felt like crap. He was choosing the possibility of sex with as-yet-unknown women over the chance to really be with me. How the hell is that supposed to make a person feel? So I called him up and we talked for a long, long time. I told him it made me feel poopy, and he said, "then let's not do it. I don't want to do anything that makes you feel bad." He continued to tell me just how much he wanted to stay friends, but I said, "it's on you this time. Don't let it always be me suggesting we hang out." I knew his super-bestie female friend (whom he had admitted to sort of liking/definitely wanting to see naked) was in town for the holidays, and sure enough, I didn't hear a damn peep from him until after she'd left. And my reaction to that? FUCK. THAT. NOISE.

This one in particular hurt me pretty badly, because of the whole clicking/connecting thing I'd thought we'd both felt. It's one thing to just date someone casually for a while without having to discuss Things; it's another entirely when you're spending whole weekends together and meeting each other's friends and and being generally very Together.

And so I spent NYE the way I spent much of 2011: with people I barely knew, watching the guy I thought was cute (and had been talking to all damn night) make out with another girl (who popped up 10 minutes to midnight and used her body as a shield to block me from him, NO JOKE), and going home alone.

So 2012? Doesn't really have to try very hard to be better. This year I'm hoping for fewer stalkers and less heartache. Wouldn't mind some top-5-style sex, either.


  1. That's a lot of heart break sprinkled with some OK sex. Let me know if you want a hug next time I see you.

  2. Just wanna tell that this is handy , Thanks for taking your time to write this.