In Limbo

Something is off this week. After feeling like I was being punked last week, people are canceling on me left, right and center. Not only that, but I’ve been on the receiving end of some offensive messages online as well. Not everyone takes rejection well I suppose, even though I’ve been pretty nice about it this week!

So after the French guy who ‘forgot’ our date last week, I gave another French guy a chance on POF. (how many French fo they have around there?) We talked for a bit and decided to meet up on Friday for a drink. Having learnt my lesson, I texted him 2 hours before if he was still going to make it. Three hours later, I received an answer saying he was really tired and needed to relax from his work week. Having anticipated this, not having received a reply before the actual meet up time, I had made other plans, but I was not amused. You’re not the only one with a job my friend. At least have the decency to cancel ahead of time. He texted me the next day asking if I was upset, apologizing profusely. I was not upset, I hadn’t really waited around for him, but still. Could he have another chance today? Fine. He told me to meet him at the train station at 6 and we’d go for a drink. Again, I texted him beforehand. This time I got an immediate reply. He was still in Amsterdam, but he would let me know when he’d be back and we could go then? Are you fucking kidding me? I told him I had gone to do something else. He wasn’t being very respectful of my time.

Maybe the real reason I  have him a second shot was because he had been so honest about what he was looking for. He had asked if I would still want to meet up if I knew he was looking for fun more than anything else. On my question on whether he was looking for a friend with benefits, he was honest. Now I can appreciate honesty, and I can work with it. Besides, it would be kinda nice to have one on my beck and call. Shame it’s not working out!

Meanwhile, Sean continues to text me. Last week, during dinner with Anna, we had decided he could be my friend with benefits. I have no feelings for him, though he amused me, and if he could continue to deliver like he finally had last time, it could be super convenient. At least I wouldn’t have to go out and actively look. But as I replied to his messages, there was radio silence on his end. Oh well. I can see he’s still super active on OKC (he’s even messaged Adya, who’s on there as well) so there you go. He may have found another victim. I have disabled my OKC profile for a while as the ridiculous messages kept pouring in, and I’m tired of being called a bitch if I don’t reply.

The only guy I’m talking to now on POF is a 36 year old Dutch guy, he’s black and he’s huge. He seems to be genuinely interested, so with this one I’ll probably take it a bit easy!

Am I being punked?

I was hoping to be able to blog about my POF date with a good looking French man I was supposed to have tonight, but he never came through unfortunately! Oh well.

I think someone is yanking me around this week. I am on OKC, and I’ve also made a POF profile as I have grown bored with OKC and the men there. I was a little too excited than necessary to find it’s not only for the North America market. On both websites, I’ve gotten the weirdest messages and yesterday, 4 requests for a sex date. Needless to say I wasn’t into that. Not only because one didn’t have a picture of profile filled out, one was in Turkey (he must have a loooong dick) and one had a ‘cute’ hotelroom and the other one… well, I don’t remember. By the end of the day, in a pissy mood after a day filled with draining meetings, I may have replied to one or two saying something along the lines of ‘do I look like a whore to you?’. Anyway, just for fun; these are some of the funkiest messages received this week.

just to let you know that i know how to treat a woman like myself and like a baby,becouse i love a kid so much if you have kid i will treat them like me and like my child,i love and i care also iam very romatic, i am very honest when i am in love and when it come to a relationship ,please i love your profile and i will love to know you better,what is your real name and what do you think when you are lonely.please reply me here or my email… 

You scare the crap out of me!

On a cold and rainy night, I place my head upon my pillow and fell into a deep sleep. 
I dreamed of a place that only beauty was, there was no rain or cold. Only a warm and beautiful day was ahead of me as I walked now this road. 
I meet an amazing bird on the road and I asked the bird, “How can this place exist?” The bird said in an interesting voice, to follow him. So, I did and he led me to the most beautiful meadow of all kinds of sweet smelling flowers. The Bird pointed toward the waterfall, I walked closer to the waterfall and what do I see? The most amazing beauty of all this place, I fall to my knees, and look up to see someone that no man could ever put words to, many men many try to put into words, but have never found the right words to explain this beauty. 
I can only say…. Before me as I looked up, I could see YOU. 
With lips as sweet as the honey that drips from the flowers of the fields. Eyes that could make the world come to a stop as I would fall deep into those deep pools of excitement. 
As you walk into the flowers of the meadow and the birds and deer followed you. I stood up and tried to follow, I try to call out your name, but I did not know your name. 
So I called out what my heart said to call you…. ANGEL…. ANGEL! 
You turn and look back at me and smiled, my heart stopped and melted. Your smile has done me in. 
I woke to the cold rain and wind blowing outside and wished I had not woke from this dream. Would you help me get back to this dream of, My dream Angel? 

I am the dreamer…..JIM 
You are the DREAM

First of all, I don’t have the patience for an essay. Second; you’re halfway across the world and 61. I think I’m gonna pass.

Hi! I’m Dimi. 
What about casual sex right now? 
I’m pretty handsome 
I love giving oral sex 
I’m from Moscow, Russia and staying here for a couple of days 
I have a cute room at a hotel…

He’s so handsome a picture would be totally superfluous.

And then there’s MiamiHeat, who has 3 semi nude pictures, mentions he has a 22cm dick, likes to take care of himself and wants me to teach him yoga. (Hey, I’ve never heard that before!) And he’s the one that makes me think I’m being punked. The way he writes his messages, the things he says, his punctuation, the way he tried to get info out of me…. Sean, that better not be you.

Aren’t you lucky

Single and ready to mingle. I hate that saying. But when I overheard a colleague say it with contempt, she had my attention. At work I usually have music on, and if I don’t, I am eavesdropping on a couple of ladies a few desks down who gossip, moan and complain a lot. So when I heard one of them say ‘oh yeah, she’s single and ready to mingle alright’ with an evil little snicker, I was all ears. Her neighbor asked her to elaborate, and she speeched about a friend of hers that was recently single, not very happy about it, but had thrown herself back into the dating scene with all kinds of successes and failures.

As I listened to their conversation, eyebrows near my hairline behind my computer screen, I couldn’t help feeling resentment. I happen to know both these ladies got married at the age of 24 and abstained from sex until marriage. I don’t believe in either marrying young or abstinence, but if you do, awesome. I’m not judging. But don’t go around judging others for something you don’t know the slightest thing about. Aren’t you lucky to have found someone in high-school and not have to go through those stressful, exciting and nerve wracking dating scandals and insecurities. Or maybe not, and you’ve been missing out. I was annoyed and had to bite my tongue to not butt in. The assumptions and stereotyping flew across their desks, and maybe I was irritated because in a way, they were talking about me and everyone else that plays the game, too.

That same night I went to see Sandy, one of my best friends who has had a baby a little over a week ago. I had been nervous about calling her. I know nothing about pregnancies apart from what she’s told me, babies or social etiquette in that area. I imagined her whole life to be changed, and I might not fit into it anymore.

But off I went, with gifts and flowers. Her house was full of pink cards, balloons, a photo crazy grandpa, and a fiancee running up and down with drinks and snacks. A wonderful picture. And as I was given a sleeping baby that was too tired to drink from the bottle, I was deeply impressed with my friend. She had manufactured a tiny human being. I never see babies that young, and there was definitely something wholesome about it. Eventually her parents left and we were left alone to talk, and she told me all about it while I held the baby, I didn’t have much to say. Not because I didn’t care, but because I was in awe. She almost seemed superhuman to me.

When she asked me about my recent dating adventures, I gave her a filtered version of the Sean story, and told her I only went on one date. It seemed inappropriate and it would probably be far removed from her anyway. Her fiancee joked around  with his familiar ‘you could be sitting here next year’, but secretly I was a little relieved to find out their daughter was not triggering any emotions of that sort.

What’s my name?

I went on a third date with Sean (Why? God doesn’t even know) He continued to text me after date number 2, and I had taken days to respond, and not so enthusiastically at that. It called for an emergency meeting with Anna, who suggested I go. I wasn’t quite sure if he had any potential, and she figured three is a charm, and if not, I wouldn’t have to doubt any longer. Somehow that made sense to me.

Monday night rolled around and the later it got, the less I was looking forward to it. I was expecting awkwardness, especially after that pretend-sleeping text I sent and he never addressed. What I had also told Anna that morning is that I wasn’t sure he actually remembered my name. (He sure is sounding more and more like a catch) Sure it must be in his messages somewhere, but the issue with my name is that it’s practically impossible to pronounce for English speakers from the get-go. Even in Dutch I usually have to say it twice. He’s not asked how to say it, nor has he tried it, so there you go. So I had two goals for that night; make him say my name and have him make me come.

The same key dropping thing happened. But, to my relief, no further awkwardness. He asked what I wanted to see, made drinks, we joked about the fact I had shattered a glass last time, and settled. I was happy that he seemed to be more aware of his surroundings (me) and putting in 0.5% extra effort. What really should have happened here is a proper date, dinner date even, but I had ruined that by going home with him right the first time. Why should he put in that effort when he already got what I wanted? My bad, and so I never brought it up. Before we started the movie, he mentioned he had applied for a job within my company. And therein lies issue number two, and this was an issue with two layers that night. There is not a person in the world that does not know my company. I usually do not mention my employer on a first date, because it has happened where men that were clearly not into me, took me out and expected me to get them in the door. Anyway, I had only told Sean on the second date and to his credit, he had applied before knowing I work there. However, he showed me his resume, which wasn’t bad, but not good enough. He asked if he could send it to me. I said no. He let it rest but then I thought that that would be the perfect way to see if he knew my name. So I told him to send it to my address, which is my name Can I spell it for him? Crap. Goal one missed.

We actually watched the whole movie. He was touchy, but didn’t make a move. Generally, he went about it a lot nicer, maybe he felt my mood was a little more distant than last times. When he lifted me off the couch and onto the bed, I was sure that this time it’d go a whole lot better. We had a promising start; or rather he did, but eventually lost it. And then he asked to go without a condom, claiming again that was what was holding him back. I didn’t hesitate to tell him no. Tough luck my friend. ‘Just put it in once?’ I don’t think so. He let it go and asked if I came. No, I need more work than penetration alone. And oh hallelujah, he got to work, hair pulling and all. It wasn’t mindblowing, but it did the job, and I was pleased to not have to help myself and enjoy someone else’s efforts.

Turned out it was only 10pm when he asked if I wanted to go for a drink. Wow. What’s gotten into him? But sure. Off we went, down the cold and windy streets while he talked on the phone. Romantic, isn’t it? Once at the bar I again let him talk to see if he would go as far as to show an interest in me, but that was too much to ask for. Still, it amused me. I actually amuse me, because my biggest downfall is not speaking about anything. Not to boyfriends, not to family and not to friends. If no one asks me a question you will never get to how I actually feel about stuff. Ask me how I am and I will tell you I’m good, ask me how my day was and it was fine but if you don’t want to know anything else about it, it’s all you’ll get. I can hang out with someone for months and be quite close, without me telling them any personal things simply because they haven’t asked. I am great at chit-chat, have an opinion on everything, but I shut down on personal matters. I take it as disinterest, but I’m not offended by it. I know this about myself, and see it as kind of a game to see if people actually want to get to know me. Needless to say it backfires a lot, too. Anyway, he tells his stories, I nod and ask questions, he goes off to say hello to someone, and after one drink we go back.

He puts on another movie; I had work in the morning and so dozed off. When he sees that he asks if I’m falling asleep on him, and tells me to take off my pants. What? Someone is clearly left unsatisfied. He does it for me, takes off his own clothes and swings my legs over his shoulders. He’s actually really hard, and he’s hitting that spot that sometimes takes my breath away. I know he’s coming, and love it when he does. I love the sound of a man having an orgasm. And hello; finally. I am arrogant enough to think I had nothing to do with his incompetence, but I had been wondering if I had come across my first man with erection problems.

In the morning I had a quick shower, heard him messing around in the kitchen in the meantime, and I was relieved he had picked up on the fact I was not amused with his stunt the last time. But when I came out of the bathroom, he was in bed, completely still. I moved around, packed my bag, put on my shoes, and not holding back noise wise. He didn’t flinch. I stood there. Was he being serious? I had really thought that maybe the fact he had been able to come with me would stand for something. I contemplated leaving a note, yelling at him, but in the end I just left. Last time I was not amused, this time I was angry. I didn’t text him, and at the end of the day when I came home after yoga class, he had texted me asking how my days was. OK, so maybe I wouldn’t let him get away with it. I texted him back that my day had been alright, though I had had better starts where I had not been thrown out in a passive aggressive way like a cheap one night stand.

Definitely the wrong thing to say. Obviously I felt negativity coming from him to say such a thing? If that were true he apologized, but I could have woken him up if I cared about it so much. He had a point, sure, but it should not have to come to the point of me having to wake him up.

Exit Sean.

Whatever happened to dinner dates?

I received a text from Sean while at work last week; did I want to come over and watch a film? The work dinner that I was supposed to go to that night had just cancelled, so I decided on yes. Maybe it was a sign, maybe I wanted to give him a chance to redeem himself after that first date, and I definitely wanted good sex this time around.

I told him I could be there at around 9pm, and quickly pedaled home after work to take a quick shower and change. I wasn’t exactly prepared for what that message implied. (I am no fool). I pedaled back to the train station, took a train to his city along with curious co-workers that know I live in the same city I work in, so why take a train? and texted Sean I was almost there. He didn’t text back, but instead, I heard a whistle above my head. He was leaning out the window, and shouted to catch. Catch what? The keys. Ah. He put them in a hat and dropped it. I throw like a girl and can’t catch anything to save my life, so I let it drop to the street. And really, throwing your keys down? I know you live on the third floor, but make an effort and come open the door for me.

Once I made it upstairs, his door was open, he was dressed in sweats, had a beanie on and had changed the layout of his room. He gave me a kiss and offered to make tea, which I happily accepted. To be honest, I don’t even remember what movie he put on. It was some kind of guy movie I wasn’t remotely interested in, which he’d known if he had asked me. But it was fine, it didn’t take long for him to literally jump me, and I was excited to see how he’d handle himself sans alcohol.

I wasn’t expecting the world, but I was expecting for it to go better than last time. Well. It started off kinda hot, he was a little rough which I definitely enjoy, and this time it took me a little longer to realize nothing was happening. I was determined to not let that happen again, and so when he asked for a blowjob, I got down on my knees and sucked him off. I dare say I give excellent BJ’s, but I could tell something was holding him back. He would almost come, and then all of a sudden, it was gone. But when he was hard again, he turned me around on all fours, and before he could put himself inside me, he’d gone soft. And frustrated. He stated he couldn’t do it with condoms, and I said nothing. He’d left me hanging again. We had a shower together and got into bed.

He complained he needed music or TV noise to be able to sleep. I need silence, which he knew, but he kept going at it until I gave in. ‘Fine! Turn it on then.’ Jeez. Turns out I can sleep with the TV on after all, because after a little while he woke me up, whispered a sorry in my ear and put his hand down my panties. Would I finally get an orgasm? He was hard already and unceremoniously thrust himself inside me and started pounding. I put his hand on me, but he didn’t get the hint, or is not a good multitasker. So when he pounded me I helped myself out, and I did not make an extra effort to help him out when it was clear he wasn’t coming again. He seemed upset about it but trying to hide it, and I told him to not make such a big deal out of it. I am not sure if that’s the truth, but oh well.

My alarm went off early the next morning, and while I scurried around the room trying to get my stuff together, he didn’t bat an eyelid. He was definitely awake, but obviously chose to pretend to be sleeping. I stood there in doubt, that’d never happened to me before. Was he tired? Disappointed? Did he not give a fuck? Was he awkward? And so I left without saying a word. On the train home I texted my friend Adya. I was a little upset, but not sure if I should be, and needed a second opinion. And a third. At work, I called Anna for coffee.She was upset for me, thought it was an asshole thing to do, and she was not amused with the key-throwing either. So maybe I wasn’t overreacting. If it would have been an awkward one night stand it would be understandable, we’ve all been there before, but after a second date don’t be pulling a bad acting stunt on me and have the decency to open the door for me at least.

I whipped out my phone, and texted him that he needed to work on his pretend-sleeping skills.

Rule Number One

I don’t really live by any rules, let alone dating rules. And while in some cases it would be in my benefit to do so, the flesh is weak.

Two weeks ago I ‘met’ Sean on OKC. I’m not into building tension and apprehension by emailing for weeks on end, so after a few messages we agreed to meet for a date. I took a train to his city, he met me at the train station, and took me to a cocktail bar close to his house. He wasn’t bad looking, and while he surely wasn’t ‘athletic’ as he states in his profile, I wasn’t disappointed. He’s 32 (and that’s progress, I usually date younger men), American, and talks a lot. A LOT.

During the course of 3 cocktails, he talks about his job that he’s just quit, his dancing he’s quit, his band he’s forming, all the things he considers himself an expert on, and so on. To me, that’s amusing. I consider myself to be a pretty easy going date, I have enough things to say to keep a conversation going, but with this one, I couldn’t get a word in. And mind you, I have never seen anyone drink those 3 cocktails as fast as he did, all the while talking. So we chit-chat, I try to figure out whether he’s just confident or arrogant, and think that, in my humble European opinion, he’s very American. He’s loud, he raves, he pulls out my chair, makes sure my glass is never empty and I think I kinda like it.

And at some point, it is decided we go back to his place. There was a reason for it that I don’t remember. He shows me to his third floor city center studio, gets me another drink and asks one of the few questions asked that night; how come I have been to India so many times? One of my favorite things to talk about! But mid conversation, he makes his move and jumps on me. He turns out to be a great kisser, and it’s not a surprise when he lifts me off the floor and onto the bed. Clothes fly and things get messy. I don’t do oral on one night stands or first-times, and neither does he I find out, and so we get by otherwise, but it doesn’t take long for me to realize it’s not gonna happen for him. A+ for effort, on my side, that is, but he can’t keep it up. Eventually blaming it on the alcohol (and fair enough, we’ve drunk quite a bit) he calls it a night. And just when he does, I realize he has not even touched me south of my chest. Awesome.

I end up spending the night because I missed my train home, we cuddle for a bit, and I manage to get 2 hours of sleep before my alarm goes off. While hesitant sunlight starts to flood into the room, Sean pulls me in for another try. Another fruitless try. It’s highly unlikely the alcohol is still affecting him after 7 hours, but I’m not a bitch and am nice about it. I decide not to mention he forgot something fairly important, and have a quick shower and dress to make a run for the train station.

Once at work, I am roped in for coffee by my friend and colleague Anna, who wants to hear everything. She’s a very picky and careful dater herself, and we couldn’t be more different in our taste and approach of men, but entertaining each other with our stories is the highlight of our week. So while I tell her the full story, she asks me if I liked him enough to go on a second date if he were to ask. She’s appalled at his morning failure and his ‘forgetfulness’ about my orgasm.

Back at my desk I wonder; do I like him enough to go on a second date? How many questions has he actually asked about me? But while the sex part may not have been successful for any one of us, I did have a good time at the bar, and he might have been a little full of himself, but who knows, he might have been nervous. I’m pretty sure his non-performance wouldn’t have made him feel better about the whole thing either.

As usual, I analyze it to death but then decide not to worry about it so much. If I do hear from him again, I’ll see how I feel about it in the moment and take it from there.

A brief history

I have a little black brown book. Actually, had. I wanted a little trip down memory lane to refresh my memory, but after about 30 minutes, I gave up looking for it. It wasn’t exactly full, but it was definitely time for an update. Well, if I needed a new weekend project, there it is!

As I mention in my intro, I have started online dating about a year ago. I have a small amount of friends that know I do this (let’s say 3) as I just wouldn’t know how to explain it to the others. There would be snickers and eye-rolling. A few would think it’s unsafe. Oh well, I’ve never been afraid of a little adventure. The ones that do know live their single lives through me. And the ones that don’t know as well, some of my male colleagues are always very eager to have lunch on Mondays. I don’t give them much (you know, work and all) but they have the wildest ideas. Whatever floats their boat!

I will be 30 in a few months, and have one single friend left to go out with. All others are very pregnant, very busy visiting the in laws on the weekend, or need to go to kid’s birthday parties. Don’t get me started. My parents have stopped dropping ‘It’d-be-so-nice-if-Ella-would-bring-someone-home-for-Christmas’ (they have shifted their focus to my 23 year old sister), my grandparents forget, and the rest want the nasty details. Be careful what you wish for!

But I don’t like being alone anymore. I feel no clock ticking whatsoever and doubt I ever will, which takes the pressure off meeting someone in that area, but I’m still a girl. The house is cold when returning from work, I too need hugs, someone to share things with, and also, I love sex. I do alright considering the single thing, but it sure is work sometimes! So in the meantime, I will date around, have fun and who knows who I’ll meet along the way?