Finding the Positive in the Opposite Sex

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the opposite sex. I had an epiphany that had never occurred to me before: It’s almost always a disappointment with the opposite sex.

First, let me start out by making this one thing clear. This post is not a “down with men” or “down with love” sort of diatribe. Far from it. I am a woman writing about her feelings and experiences with the opposite sex. This could just as easily be written from a man’s point of view. At least, I think men might feel this way too. I’m not sure. And that’s why I’m putting this out there to spark some thoughts and conversations on the subject.

After twenty-plus years of dating, I’ve become jaded of sorts. My expectations have been lowered significantly on the romance front. The twenty year old version of me dreamed of the day her crush would ask her out and bring a dozen roses to her on the doorstep. The 40 year old version of me has never had a man bring her roses on a date, and is impressed when a guy actually offers to pick her up, and doesn’t suggest she take public transit to meet him somewhere. Actually, the older version of me is just impressed when a man asks her out. That’s about all it takes to impress her now. Sometimes, even less.

After years and years of being single, I’ve been disappointed over and over again. I’ve lowered my expectations considerably. Oh I still have high hopes, but reality keeps them in check.

Nearly all of my experiences with the opposite sex have had negative returns. Even the good guys have left a bad impression at some point in time. The once great boyfriends eventually broke my heart. Whether it’s an unrequited crush, cat calls from a man on the street, a bad breakup, most of the experiences I have with men are not positive.

There are a few good guy friends out there. And occasionally I’ve had a decent home teacher or two. (I mention this only for the sake that I know someone will bring it up in the comments section.) But these positive social interactions with the opposite sex are the minority of my experiences, not the majority.

My experiences with my own sex are different. We laugh, joke, share, and commiserate together. For the most part my experiences with my own sex is very positive. (In other words, it’s not me. I do have positive relationships.) These are not the experiences I frequently or regularly have with the opposite sex. The positive experiences I have with men are getting farther and fewer between.

And I worry about that.

I worry that my little heart will build bigger defenses, higher walls, and tougher callouses with every additional negative experience to the point that no one will ever be able to get past them. You have to have a “strong center,” or “be mentally strong,” “have thick skin,” etc., when it comes to attempting to befriend the opposite sex. Or at least that’s what my guy friends tell me. But that’s the problem. I’m jaded and calloused when it comes to men breaking my heart. I expect it now. (Reality over hopes.) But really, the heart under those callouses is soft and tender.

In the long run, can all of these negative experiences be good? We need the positive experiences. We need to seek them out and find them. We need to start to like them again, and not just associate them with bad experiences. Otherwise, my heart may turn into one gigantic callous. And that just sounds gross.

I know I’m not alone. And I know this isn’t all one-sided. Maybe all those tough manly men won’t admit to it, but I think they suffer from the same afflictions.

How can we expect anyone to couple up and fall in love if they never have positive experiences with the opposite sex? How can we even expect them to bother to look at or speak to each other?

Consider this my challenge to you- be kind to the opposite sex. Ask someone on a date. Do something fun and positive with a member of the opposite sex so that they have a reason to believe that there are still “good ones” out there. Surprise someone with a card or a call. Invite someone to go for a walk. Take them a plate of cookies. Give a member of the opposite sex a reason to smile. Just this one time, don’t worry that you will lead them on or give them the wrong idea. Just worry that maybe you haven’t done your part lately to give the opposite sex hope or a smile. Because wouldn’t you like someone to do that for you?

Singles Awareness Day

(Reprinted from Meridian Magazine, February 2012)

You didn't think I was going to let February 14 go by without acknowledging the most dreaded day of all singles, did you? Never fear, my single friends, I am here to commiserate with you! I will share my worst experience with you, but in return, I expect to hear your awful stories in the comments below.

I will never forget my worst Valentine's Day ever, but to say that indicates that somewhere along the way I have had a good Valentine's Day. The truth is, even on the years where I had a boyfriend on February 14, I've never had a good, romantic, worthy of recording it in my journal, or even just calling my best friend, kind of day. I've had pretty much nothing but really lousy Valentine's Days. (Unless you count the year I was going through fire-fighting school and I got to rappel down the side of a burning building, getting the best time in my class, as a good day.)

No, I've had some pretty rotten V-days. I'm one of those singles who would prefer to just sleep through the day, never being forced to see all of the people wearing pink and red, carrying flowers and balloons in the hallways at work, while giving cheery answers to questions like, “So do you have any fun Valentine's plans?” No, I plan to be at home watching NCIS and hanging out with my dog, just like I do on most Tuesday nights. The only thing different is this week I won't get to eat Indian take-out while watching TV, because I have to avoid all restaurants at all costs, so as to not be seen alone in my alone-ness. Which is stupid, quite frankly, because, I'm alone in my alone-ness all the time! I go into restaurants and eat alone pretty regularly. But no, once a year, all those gross lovey-dovey people have to go and ruin it for me, and I'm stuck at home eating Lean Cuisine instead.

But back to the worst Valentine's Day ever. I tell you this story at great risk to myself. I have no idea if the man involved will ever read this. I'm going to assume that he doesn't, since he's never told me so (but then, we haven't talked in 16 years, so I don't know that he would. And he probably won't now either). If you just happen to be that man, I hope you too can see the humor in this story now!

I was just barely nineteen at the time. One of those BYU stories of the girl that got engaged just six months out of high school to a guy she had only known a matter of weeks. But of course, not really engaged, just verbally engaged without a ring. Nonetheless, the point is, I had a significant other on Valentine's Day. I had expectations. I had dreams. I had very big plans. After all, we were just recently and verbally agreed to be married! I was owed a diamond! Me and my nineteen years of wisdom knew exactly how this day would play out, and it would end in a hugely, overly romantic love story to tell our grandchildren someday!

Obviously, that didn't happen.

What did happen is he had an exam that day. And I, being a college student with big wedding plans, had taken a temp job working in the BYU on-campus florist. (Exactly why does a university need an on-campus florist, by the way? If not only to further encourage silly college romances?) It was working at my temp job that day that I discovered just how wretched allergies can be, and that I am horribly allergic to many types of flowers. After eight straight hours of flower arranging, and being surrounded by all those (painful) pretty smells, I was in complete misery. However, let's keep it to the obvious facts here. I was also an overly romantic and sentimental mostly verbally engaged nineteen year old in a flower shop on Valentines Day. Do you see where I am going here? I may have actually woken up that morning still a somewhat reasonable person. By the end of my shift making other people's romantic gifts, I was expecting a 12 piece string orchestra, dozens and dozens of roses, a steak dinner, and more than one diamond ring. Wouldn't you?

I spent most of the money I earned that day right there in the florist buying him a gift and having it delivered. It was a teddy bear, a balloon, and some roses that I personally picked out and arranged. Because what red-blooded, American male college student doesn't want a teddy bear, balloon, and roses?

After work I went to my room and primped. For what? I didn't know. I just knew it was Valentine's Day and obviously the man who was verbally committed to giving me a diamond ring was going to be doing something grand. I waited and waited. And my allergies and sinus infection grew worse and worse, not helped by the two dozen roses my roommate had received taking up real estate in our tiny room. Finally my phone rang saying I had a delivery at the front desk. Expecting nothing less than a limousine and other fantastic gestures I ran downstairs.

And picked up another dozen roses some guy had sent my roommate.

I returned to my room, checked my messages to make sure I hadn't missed my beloved's call (I hadn't), and resumed my flights of fancy.

The phone rang again.

I ran back to the front desk.

Where I found the teddy bear, roses, and balloon I had sent my significant other waiting for me. The delivery guy had sent it to the wrong person. Oh and the receipt was still attached. I took the receipt off and had them call the right person. And returned to my room.

I kid you not, I walked in the door and the phone rang again.

Back to the front desk.

Another dozen roses for my roommate.

Where was my roommate you might ask? Out on a date with her boyfriend, who was not the bequeathor of the now four dozen roses in my tiny little dorm room. Also, I was starting to resent my roommate just a little bit. Yes, I had that kind of roommate who just got dozens of roses randomly sent to her by men she barely knew. And yet, I still loved her anyway.

For several more hours I sat there patiently in my room, my head throbbing with a sinus infection, blowing my nose, getting sicker by the minute. It was 10pm before he called.I almost didn't answer it because I was convinced it was going to be the front desk calling with an entire rose garden for my roommate.But it was my mostly betrothed, so I went down to see him, Kleenex and all.

He thanked me for my cute little gift, and told me all about his big exam, and how it had taken all day. He finally noticed I was sick and offered me back the teddy bear I had given him. “The bear? The stupid little bear? I don't want the bear! Just give me my stinking engagement ring!!!” was sloshing with rage through my very congested head.

Did I mention we were in a classroom? We were two car-less college students without a lot of options. A lot of our “dates” were just sitting in empty classrooms or study rooms talking.

So there we were- me with the worst sinus infection in history bubbling out of my nose, and him with that dumb bear I gave him. He finally reaches into his backpack and tells me to close my eyes and put out my hands. I only put out my left hand, palm down. He turned my hand over and put a plastic take out container in it before I opened my eyes.

A frosted sugar cookie.

But not just any frosted sugar cookie. A broken frosted sugar cookie with “Be Mine” iced onto it.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I was expecting an engagement ring, and I got a broken cookie.

Did I mention I hate sugar cookies?

He explained it got smashed in his backpack, and the frosting smeared a little bit. Yes, yes, I could see that.

And that, my friends, is the only time, ever, in nearly 20 years of dating, that a significant other has given me something on Valentine's Day. Sure, I've had other boyfriends on that date, but none of them have ever given me something or done anything nice for me on that day.

I've learned my lesson about getting my hopes up, or thinking men are ever on the same page as women when it comes to romantic expectations. But more importantly, I still have hopes. I still think that maybe someday I'm going to have a good February 14. Maybe even have a date on Valentine's Day- wouldn't that be amazing? I still think that in spite of twenty years of not meeting Mr. Right that one day it will finally happen. I won't be waking up on Valentine's Day thinking the floral delivery truck is going to be in my driveway with roses from a mysterious admirer. But I do think that maybe someday I will meet a guy who will give me a rose or dozen. (In 20 years of dating, it has only happened once.) I'm not ready to give up yet.

But until then, I'm avoiding all restaurants and public places on the day I am convinced was designed to make single women feel bad about themselves.

Are you with me? Share your “Singles Awareness Day” stories with me!

ALL of my books are FREE on Amazon Kindle Feb 13-17, 2014! Don't miss your chance to download them today!

You Heard It Here First (book 1 in the Haley and Cam Series)

This Just In! (book 2 in the Haley and Cam Series)

The Agency: a biographical workplace novella

5 guys, 5 minutes. What could possibly go wrong?

Arms Wide Open: a novella 

Lauren Brooks is in a rut, and her roomie is determined to yank her out of it by convincing her to participate in a local coffee shop's 5-in-5 speed dating event. Once she agrees, it takes her about 30 seconds to realize if there's an oddball out there looking for love, he'll find her. And creep her out. She confronts one weirdo after another until someone she used to know winds up in the same place, and she has to decide what she wants more: to make a break for it, or embrace the possibilities of another chance.

Fun Facts about Arms Wide Open:

Lauren Brooks is based on a real person...a real survivor.

Although the author doesn't name a city as the setting, she imagined it happening in a little shop by the pier in Old Town Alexandria, Virginia.

The eyeball guy, Rico Suave, and the amorous hipster are all based on actual dates the author suffered through.

Check out Arms Wide Open, a novella about taking a chance on love! 

About the author: Juli Caldwell is also the author of Psyched, a YA paranormal novel, and Beyond Perfection, a latter-day romance. She lives near the shores of the Great Salt Lake with her husband, two bookworm daughters, and a dog who sheds too much. She will love you forever if you like her facebook page and follow her on Twitter. Check her blog often for updates on upcoming books, contests, and giveaways from her and other amazing authors!

Another Memory from the Bad Date Archives-

I don't like speaking ill of another person, even if just to share a bad date experience, without a better intent. For instance, a lesson learned from the negative experience. Give me a few minutes and I'll come up with something.

If memory serves I was about 35 and he was about 40. We met on eHarmony. Now, for the record, I have met several excellent men off eHarmony. And this guy is only a little bit of an exception to the rule.

I don't really remember his name. I remember my brother called him Julio, but I don't remember why.

Online, before we met, we seemed to have plenty in common. We went through the eHarmony "steps," emailed through the site a few times, texted, and had a few phone calls. It all seemed to go well. He was divorced with a daughter, and a stepson that he had not adopted, but still considered to be his son and cared for. I was impressed with that. He was well educated and had a job with a well-known company.

We followed all of the rules for the "first-meet" date. We arranged for it to be at a public place, and had exchanged just enough personal information to feel safe.  (No last names.) The public place was an outdoor mall in Utah.

Now this outdoor mall has dozens of nice restaurants, one sub-par food court, and exactly one very average chain deli. When he suggested we meet at the deli, I figured he thought it would be mostly dead (seeing as it was suppertime on a weekend), so it would be easy to spot and recognize each other. I never actually entertained the idea that he meant for us to eat there. Because who does that?

One of the few perks to getting old and dating is the dates get better. Right?? We're no longer college students at BYU without cars, stuck going to the food court for dinner. Dating Older means we have money! We can go on real dates! Good dinners! Real activities! Dating Older means nice restaurants! And actually getting to be impressed!

Things that do not impress- Jason's Deli.

Seriously, not just a deli, but a mass chain cafeteria style deli. When speaking of a date with a 40 year old man, there might be few things less impressive. But wait for it, he still had ways of lowering expectations.

The first thing he said was that I looked even younger than my pictures. Yeah, I know. I'm the anomaly of internet dating. I actually look younger in real life than my pictures. Not much I can do about that. My first impression? He looked much older than his pictures- so, basically, right on target for internet dating.

I was still trying to get comfortable and confident in those first few minutes of meeting someone in real life for the first time. It's always a little awkward, you know? And then there's just "be polite first date jitters." So when he suggested that we go into Jason's Deli and held the door open for me, I didn't think to protest.

Let's be clear. I was expecting a dinner date. Why wouldn't I? It was dinnertime! We entered a deli that had the chairs turned upside down on top of tables while someone swept and mopped the floors, in spite of the fact that they would not close for at least an hour.

He offered to buy me a drink. (For those keeping track, this is the second guy in my life who "took me out for drinks" by buying me a large soda fountain drink with a straw in it.) He got me a Sprite. (My "drink" is a Dr. Pepper, or at the very least, a Diet Coke.) Again, not really impressive.

He was a fairly stocky, big guy. Not fat, not fit, just a big guy. He took a seat at a booth (again, all of the chairs were on top of tables). In the third completely unimpressive move, he never took off his windbreaker.

Fourth unimpressive move? Not facing me at the table. I sat down across from him with my [disgusting] Sprite. He sat sideways, his feet and knees out of the booth. He sat back, one hand and his drink (a Coke, I think), on the table. He did have the decency to turn his head to look at me.

The conversation was about as dull and boring as two incompatible people can suffer through. The date lasted less than an hour. Nothing inappropriate was said. Nothing horribly stupid. Nothing I can even recall.

Finally, the one person still that still worked the dinner shift at Jason's Deli made it clear she wanted to go home. We did not hesitate to jump up and get out of there. Don't ask me why, but I do distinctly remember that he insisted on ever so politely throwing my drink out for me. (What a gentleman!)

We get outside the door, and the girl locks up and practically runs away. And then "Julio" actually tries to give me a hug. Considering he was much larger than me, I couldn't dodge it fast enough. But he doesn't give me a 'date hug.' He does the guy thump- just one thump- on my back.

And that's it. Nothing else. No further contact ever.

Sometimes bad dates are just the non-event first dates. The kind that makes you wonder why you even bother trying.



Hey You! Check out my new novels, "You Heard It Here First" and the sequel "This Just In!"

Bad Serenade Date Guy

In my last post i spoke of a guy I consider to be one of the worst dates I ever went on. I normally don't share these kinds of stories, but since this was about 6 years ago now, I think the polite waiting period has passed, and I can share.

We'll call him Presley.

Presley and I met online through an LDS dating site. I could tell his photos were somewhat old because they were not digital pictures, but obviously scanned photographs. I asked him for more recent (or just more) photos several times, and he always made excuses. The pictures I saw were of a healthy, fit, young man, who told me he had never been married, and had no kids.

I met him on the second day after I moved to Utah. If he had had his way we would have met on the first day. He asked (and asked, and asked, and asked and then finally begged) me to literally drive across the country and straight to his house. He got irritated with me when I said I had other plans and wanted to go to my new home and get some sleep. I had planned to wait for the weekend to maybe meet him. But his constant pestering (which included looking up the name of the company I worked for- my first day of work, mind you- and calling me at work) finally convinced me to give in.

I just drove all the way across the country and then started a job the very next morning. Obviously I am exhausted. I don't think it was unreasonable to expect or ask Presley to come pick me up for the date. But apparently that was just a dumb idea!

So even though my car was still laden down with all of my earthly possessions, I drove to his house for the first date.  I also wasn't crazy about the idea of meeting at his house, but he promised he would wait for me outside on the sidewalk and I wouldn't have to go in. I still didn't love the idea, but I agreed to it.

I called him when I pulled up in front of his duplex. I didn't have his house number. I still remember vividly seeing him standing behind the screened door watching me. It was way too obvious that his plan was to check me out, and if I didn't pass, he would have hidden from me.  I called him and could see/hear him holding the phone. But until I got out of the car, he wouldn't answer. (So dumb!)

Once he finally came out, I actually thought I was wrong about what I had already guessed about him. I figured he couldn't be the guy from the photos, and it must just be a coincidence he was watching me from the door. He weighed easily 100-150 lbs more than his pictures (double his weight), and was 12 years older than those pictures. I didn't recognize him at all!

He introduced himself to me as Presley- the name I had seen for him online as well.  He tried to get me to go inside his apartment. I said no. He whined and whined. I finally agreed to stand at the doorway while I waited for him to get something. From the doorway I could see his place was totally trashed- literally! There was trash all over the place!

He found his shoes and wallet and said, "Would you like to go get drinks?" I thought that was a strange plan considering we were both Mormon, and therefore, neither of us drinks alcohol, but I shrugged and said yes. But oh no! My concerns were in vain! He didn't take me to a happy hour or to a bar! We walked to 7-11 and got drinks! Soft drinks to be exact! And then we walked back to his place.

I felt comfortable by then and agreed to go inside his nasty, gross apartment. We're talking half-empty containers of week-old Chinese food on the couch beside me, piles of take-out boxes on the floor, etc. I intentionally sat on the love seat after he sat on the couch. He got up and joined me on the loveseat. It was awkward to say the least.

And then he pulled out his photo album and his guitar.

Ha ha!

He wanted to show me the pictures of himself before he gained so much weight. I found the pictures I had seen online. It was in the real pictures that I realized he had on a missionary name tag. They weren't just older photos- they were ancient! He had intentionally put up pictures of him 12-14 years younger.

Some of the pages were scrapbooked (but not all). That was when I noticed that his pictures didn't say "Presley" on it, they said, "Elvis." (Obviously not his real name.) I asked why they said Elvis and not Presley. He told me he didn't trust his real identity with girls he meets online (because everyone lies) so he gave me a fake name.

I turn the page and found several pictures of him holding a newborn baby. I asked about the baby. He shrugged.

He then pulls out his guitar from under some fast food bags that hid the case. He INSISTS on singing me a long song. He asks for requests. I made a few. He didn't know any of them (sorry, can't remember what they were). He sings a song he thinks he knows. It was awful. He had to stop and adjust his fingers through every major chord, couldn't carry a tune, and because of his size, the size of the guitar, and the loveseat, there is NO room on that little loveseat. I got pushed further and further off the edge of the couch.

I try to ignore the singing and look more at his photo album. I notice he's in more pictures with the baby who has had multiple birthdays. I ask him about it again. He finally gets annoyed, puts the guitar down, and explains it is his son.

Son? I thought you said you were never married and had no kids.

"Well, since I don't have custody and don't ever see him, I don't count him."

Wow. That's a first.

Turns out he got an ex-girlfriend pregnant. He tried to convince me he didn't know about the baby until he was 4 years old. Except! All those pictures of him at the hospital and at birthday parties kind of said otherwise. To this day still suspect there was more than one child.

But the singing, oh the singing. it was so bad! He pins me into a corner on the loveseat and insists on serenading me. He never got the words right (to the song he picked), the tune right, or anything else. I politely sat there and waited for the song to end. I was trapped in the corner. Finally, the song ended (or he gave up- either way, happy day!) and he divebombed me to try and kiss me.

He really and truly kissed my hand. I raised my hand so fast to deflect him, that he ended up kissing the palm of my hand.

I practically ran. I could not get out of there fast enough.

He continued to attempt to call me for weeks. He asked me out "for drinks" several times. I always said no to every invitation. About a year later one of my friends got involved with him online. He was still using his ancient mission pictures and claiming to not have any children.  And still telling people his name was Presley (which was not his name at all).

Single in the Hot Summery City

The best part about this picture is that thanks to Instagram, you can't see the big burn on my forehead from a very hot curling iron accident.

I've been falling back into that habit where I have so many things to write during the course of the day that by the end of the day, I have little desire to write something for fun on the blog. 

Life pretty much revolves around doing my two freelance jobs during the day, and finishing up what is required to publish my novel at night. Every day I think, "This is the day! This is the day where I finally finish everything on this stinking book, and I never have to work on it again!" But no, by the end of the day something else has come up, and I have to push off the launch another few weeks. Does it ever end??

This weekend I am speaking at a singles conference. I don't dislike public speaking. I am one of those unusual people who actually enjoy public speaking, especially if I can interact with the audience some. (And I hope to be able to do that this time.) But I am always intimidated by speaking to singles. I feel like a fraud or imposter, and that they will see right through me. After all, what do I know about anything anyway? (I half-fear all of my ex-boyfriends actually answering this question.)

I don't expect to know anyone attending the conference, which helps a little. (Speaking to my peers is my least favorite form of public speaking.) But at the same time, I really wish I had a few friends to drive up there with me. It's a long drive! (Anyone in the DC area want to go with me? I'll give you a free ride to Delaware and the beach! In exchange, you may not come to the part where I speak, and I'll let you control the radio.)

So my question to the masses today is this- what do singles want to hear another single talk about? I'm being billed as the girl who writes about singles and dating for Meridian. The theme for the conference is "Faith in Every Footstep," which does not lend itself well to dating/singles, unless I get a little dark and gloomy about persevering through bad dates and singledom.

Just a little sidenote to all of this. For the past 2 years, I've been largely out of the singles scene due to geography. I'm not in it because it doesn't exist. For the last 2 months I've actually been making a huge effort to have an active (or active by Roanoke terms anyway) social life again. As I have jumped back in to the dating pool, I've noticed a lot of things have changed, and a lot never changes. For starters, I haven't really been all that active in any social/dating scene since Facebook got popular. (Back in the Dark Ages.) There is something of an exception for my last year in Utah, but there's an asterisk on that time period as compared to now. I find it fascinating how much social media has changed dating and social interaction. But that's a discussion for another day and time. And definitely not this late at night (12:45 am as I write this). Maybe that's what I should talk about? Dating in the Digital Age? What do you think? Although, I may have more questions than advice or answers.

When I Prefer Boredom Over Men

Other things that happen when I get bored- random pictures like this!

I very rarely talk about dating or men around here anymore, because I very rarely have an experience with either category. Which may just be why what happened tonight intrigued me so much.
I've had "wrong number" texts plenty of times recently, and I've ignored all of them. (Seriously- one dude in Utah cannot get what I hope is no longer his girlfriend's number straight. The strange drunk texts he sends her in the middle of the night, that come to me instead, are flat out disturbing!)

So here is what happened tonight.

I got a picture text from a number I didn't recognize. But it has a local Roanoke area code and prefix. So I figured it must be someone I know but never added to my phone book. The picture is of a local ballpark and team. I only know this because of the signage in the background. I've never been there, and in spite of liking baseball, have never attended a game either. No identifiable person in the picture. The text itself said, "Look familiar? I'm in Salem. Gotta love the beer and baseball combo! Good times!"

(Salem is where the stadium is located.)

For a minute I tried to figure out who sent it without having to ask. But I have no record of the number in my phone. I figured it must be a wrong number. But then I realized, I have a Utah number, not a VA number. What are the odds of someone right here in my town accidentally putting in a wrong number and getting me? Not very likely. So I Googled the number and got nothing.

I decided obviously someone I have met accidentally sent me the picture. But I've never been to that place, so no, it isn't familiar.

But then something else hits me- I only know Mormons locally. (A sad but true fact. I really don't know one non-Mormon in this small town.) So again, that is an even stranger message to send even if it isn't to me. What Mormon do I know that would make a joke about beer and baseball?

So I texted the random number back and chalked it up to a bizarre wrong number. I just said, "Who is this?" and figured the person would figure out they had texted the wrong person.
But then after a few minutes of boredom I decided to put the phone number into Facebook. This technique has never actually worked for me before, but lo and behold, it worked this time. A guy named Ed popped up. And he has not locked down one tiny thing on his profile. (Why do people do that?) 

We have no friends in common. He doesn't actually live in Roanoke or Salem, but in Blacksburg about an hour away. I only sort of know one person who lives in Blacksburg- a guy I met during my last foray into online "dating" nearly two years ago. Except that I have never met him. We exchanged a few emails, a call or two, and a few texts. 

I lost interest in him after he professed to be a born again Christian, and yet, in spite of the fact that he claims he goes to church weekly, and goes to a Bible study class weekly, was absolutely shocked when I had to explain to him that "no adultery" meant ALL sex outside of marriage, and not just cheating on a spouse. He claimed he had never heard of such a thing before, and really didn't see how pre-marital sex was a sin. (I didn't believe much he said after that.)

Other turn offs included his Cheetos addiction and martial arts obsession. But more than that, the lengthy emails he sent to me about martial arts. No thank you.

Last but not least, there was one other tiny turn off that could not be ignored- his name. I know, it is petty. But it is really hard to get past his name- Melvin. Melvin the Martial Arts Guy.

So you can only imagine my surprise when I glance through Ed's pictures, and he turns out to be Melvin.

Hmm...

A few minutes later he replied to my question text. First with "Edward!!" and then, unprovoked, a second text, "I'm with my dude though so unfortunately I gotta sober up. Dern it."

(Finding out he was a single dad who had never been married was what lead to the sex conversation.)

So this guy I have never met is texting me from inside of my town to let me know he's drunk at a baseball game with his son, and suddenly is using a different name, after 2 years possibly of no contact?

Normally something I would just delete and forget.

But I was just bored enough tonight that I wrote this post instead.

And no, I have no intention of replying to him or picking things back up with him. If I wasn't already not interested at all, finding out he lied about his name, and gets drunk around his son, pretty much sealed the deal on that one. 

There are some nights I don't mind that I was bored and not out meeting completely worthless men.

Singles Meme

The Story of a Nice Mormon Girl wouldn't be complete without a singles meme of her own!

Created by John Gilbert and ErinAnnie

Mormon, Single, and Ready to Mingle

Have you read this yet? Mormon, Single and (Sort of) Ready to Mingle!
My favorite LDS, single, female, hilarious author, Elna Baker is interviewed by The Huffington Post.

Miss Baker is the author of The New York Regional Mormon Singles Halloween Dance: A Memoir, a book I pretty much recommend it to everyone, LDS or not.
The article on Huffington Post even quotes my favorite line from the book. "Me, in the corner by myself, with too many cookies and a notebook. To make matters worse, I just witnessed a 35-year-old man -- definitely a virgin -- dressed in a duck costume doing the electric slide.""

Which reminds me. I accidentally joined Match.com. Seriously, it was an accident. As was the completely ridiculous charge for 6 months on the site to my debit card. Ugh. Anyway, since I apparently have 6 months on the site, I'm making the most of it. Adventures in "online meeting" coming soon.

Let's Talk About Boys

I love talking about boys. If you know me, you knew that already. And since I'm taking Lortab tonight my filter is turned off and I feel like sharing!


I have 2 active crushes on 2 very different men this week. That hasn't happened in forever. 2 at once! One is a very sweet guy that I am friends with. When we first met he showed some interest, but no action. There was some flirting and after a few drinks one night he hit on me. Sadly, he's been sober ever since. We're most definitely in the "friends zone,"  but I like to think there's still a chance that could be stopped. I get the impression he's interested, but there's something holding him back. Maybe I just need to get him drunk again and take advantage of him?

The other guy is fairly new. You know I have to be on Lortab to admit that I met him on eHarmony. I don't know why I'm always so embarrassed to admit we met through online dating. But there it is. Who are we kidding? I work from home (so no co-workers), and I go to a family church (no singles). I never meet new people, let alone singles! The internet is my last and dying hope. And hell, I work in social media. I'm the only person alive who can honestly say they made a career out of figuring out how to talk to boys online. So anyway, back to the cute new guy. We've emailed, texted, and called, but we haven't yet met in person. He has lots of great qualities, and I'm looking forward to it. And did I mention he's just adorable to look at? Actually both guys are quite adorable. How's a girl to choose between adorable and adorable?

Clearly I'm not very good at dating and flirting. I'm 34 and very very single. And so very over it. But it really would be nice if a guy could show interest in me without the help of Jack Daniels, or the safety of indifference on the internet. Whatever happened to good old fashioned spotting a girl across the room, smiling at her, and asking her out? I can't even remember the last time I met a guy the good old fashioned way.

Erin Goes on a Date (and tells you about it)

I went on a blind date last week. By all counts, I'd say we had a good time. We got along really well, and there were no obviously awkward moments. We texted some over the weekend, nothing big. And then he called.

Oops, he had forgotten to tell me a major detail about his recent past. He's divorced (by no means a dealbreaker for me). And too recently divorced to feel comfortable dating again. His exact words, I believe, were, "I think you are really great, and I'd just screw it up, so I'd rather not do this."

Gag. Whatever.

Here's the thing. This is the FOURTH guy in a row to give me this excuse. Guy #1 actually had lied to me and wasn't even divorced yet. Guy #2 was divorced but clearly not over his ex, and ended up remarrying her. And Guy #3 just explained the same thing and disappeared (no loss there). And the funny part is that when I think back to the guys I have dated in the past 5 years, the bulk of them were newly divorced and shouldn't have been dating yet.

Who knew I have a type? Apparently I attract recently divorced men with no potential! Go figure!

As one of my girlfriends put it last night, I need to start adding, "Are you divorced, and if so for how long? And how many dates have you actually been on since the divorce?" to my vetting process.  Or you know what would be nice? To meet a nice guy who isn't divorced!