I Almost Forgot I Had a Blog

The last two years have been hectic for me. I’ve gone through a divorce. I’ve lost all the money I used to have. I lost my house. So you’ll forgive me if I haven’t had a lot of time to blog here. Being chased by the Internal Revenue Service will kill your interest in blogging more effectively than just about anything else I can think of. Of course, drinking turned out to be the wrong solution for all my problems, too. The only new friends I’d made in ten years got mad at me for something I said when I was drunk one night, and when I realized how many friends I’d lost through the years, I realized I had a problem. So for at least half of the last two years, I’ve been getting sober, too.

I’m a collector, and one of the new collections I’ve been putting together is a list of dating sites. Not only have I been collecting profiles, I’ve been collecting stories about the various dates I’ve been on in the last couple of years of being newly single. Most of these stories are horror stories, but they’re not quite as bad as the movies Halloween or Friday the 13th. Emotionally they might as well be, though.

The first woman I met through a dating site seemed wonderful. We met on Match.com, in fact. She was nice, funny, and smart. She liked books. She liked me. She didn’t drink. (Like me, she’d had problems with alcohol in her past.) She was roughly the same age as I am, and she had two daughters, just like I do. It seemed like a match made in heaven. Of course, I didn’t realize at the time that she was schizophrenic. That knowledge came later. Too late, in fact. By then I’d let move in. She was having trouble finding a safe, stable place to live. Big mistake.

Okay, so I know I’m not a health professional, so I shouldn’t be diagnosing anyone. But since I’m not giving anyone medical advice or trying to prescribe medications for a condition, I don’t feel too bad about it this time. Anyway, you look at her symptoms and tell me what you think. She heard voices that other people didn’t hear. That’s one of the most well-known symptoms of the disorder. She also thought she was somehow privy to some grand end-of-times plot involving aliens. One night we burned her notes on the subject on the grill in my backyard.

Of course, she had no place to go, so I couldn’t just kick her out, could I? It turns out I didn’t have to. My air conditioning had been broken for a while, and when it was finally repaired, she found the new cool air to be “heavy”. When I told her I didn’t know what she meant by that, she said, “Oh yes you do.” She got really frustrated and told me she had to move out because the air quality was bad. She was convinced that there was refrigerant in the air and that she would die from breathing it. Good riddance to her. I’m glad I didn’t have to throw her out.

I re-connected with another woman I had dated 20 years ago last week. We’d only dated for a few weeks the first time, and I’d been out of town on business for most of that time. She scared me when I was younger, because she asked for a key to my apartment so she could clean it while I was out of town. When I got back from my business trip, she’d moved all of her things into my apartment. I wasted little time dumping her.

Why would you get back in touch with her? you might ask. You’d be right to ask that. And our date didn’t go well at all. She implied that she was eager to get all sexy with me from the very beginning of our date, but it didn’t take her long to size up how much money I had and how nice my living space was. I live in a pretty humble apartment these days, and she turned her nose up at that pretty fast. She made it clear she had no interest in dating someone with so little money.

Of course, I don’t want to date a woman who’s that interested in the size of my bank account anyway. I’d prefer to find a woman who cares about what I’m like as a person. I wouldn’t even mind if she were only attracted to me physically. But it would be nice to spend time with someone who wanted to discuss books and movies with me. It would also help if she liked kids or dogs. How likely am I to find such a lady?

Who knows?


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