MaryB and the City

A hot mess.

The Internet (and my mind) is fucking with me. I appear to be overheating.

Let me back up 24 hours.

Bullets Pictures of Mr. Ex are flying around from all sides of the screen through our mutual Facebook friends. Dodging them seems near impossible. Ever since I interacted with him in the flesh on multiple occasions so far this summer, it has occurred to me I definitely, definitely negated any kind of “steps forward” I had previously achieved over the first few months of separation. I’m back at ground zero…Which is also why I’m choosing to remove myself from continued communal interactions via river boating and BBQing hangouts; my raw heart can’t handle it. I’d be better off just skewering the broken pieces and adding them to the grill.

Next up, my colleague who is also single was recently talked into joining The Match.com (compliments of my own peer pressure) and before she could even blink, the Quarterback winked at her. That’s just awesome. Guess he isn’t taking my advice on resolving his trust issues with women before hitting the field again. It stung a little bit, but also validated my intuition to just move on.

I wish on The Match there was a Commenting box available — or better yet — a Reviewer’s section. Ya know, just like online stores have thru their web site for consumers. You can write up your personal experience of a product…its features, quality, durability, if the description on the package actually translates to real usage. That would be oh so helpful in online dating. In this case, I’d have to call QB’s bluff on “balancing work and personal life.”

Or like the Lawyer who I briefly dated last June & lied about his age. The guy just turned 40 but his profile page proclaims he is in his early 30’s.

Which leads me to my next subject — recycling. I recycle plastic, paper and aluminum products, but am making it my mission to not recycle men. Period.

The Lawyer is still on The Match and emailed me. Or should I say had the nerve to email me. Exhibit A: He took me to his beach house after knowing me for 3 weeks, then didn’t contact me again for another 2 weeks. Lame. And, now, he wants to know if I’d like to grab some sake with him (just like our first date). No thank you. His case is closed.

There was also yet another past bachelor who reached out yesterday — I formerly referred to him as The Artist. After several emails and a phone call, we were scheduled to meet in early December, but then Mr. Ex came back swinging into the picture. I was entirely too confused and overwhelmed to even fathom holding a conversation with a new chap at the time, so I gently canceled the date. I then later ran into The Artist in March and recognized him from pictures. I don’t think he is my type though so won’t pursue that avenue. And also because, as I said above, I really and truly want a fresh start.

Finally, after all the digital debauchery over the course of the day, last night I met up with two of my best girlfriends — one is visiting from out of town. She is married, a mom, and drives a mini van. I still don’t believe it, even seeing it in writing. The other gal is a fellow Match.com customer and cashed in on the cream of the crop. I’m devasted the guy doesn’t have a clone in the form of a brother or cousin; he’s amazing. They have proven to be a match indeed…and could actually be used in the company success story commercials.

I knew that both off-the-market ladies, who are almost as invested in my search to find lasting love as I am, would want to participate in culling down my growing list of potential manfriends. So I printed out about 15 dudes for them to review. One by one they scanned photos, “About Me” sections, hobbies, and interests. Each got put into two piles: Yes and Hell No.

The orchestrated ordeal was halfway hilarious, halfway hard. The married judge on our panel was picking apart elements such as restricted height (5’6”), the way the guy sat on the chair (legs wide open = cocky), posing on a motorcycle (or as she calls them, crotch rockets), if a female (not even knowing if they’re maybe related) was included in any photos, and on and on. I sat there defending myself, constantly sourcing the book “Mr. Good Enough” written by a lady over 40 who never got married because she was entirely too picky.

This time around, I’m genuinely trying hard to expand my normally strict criteria.

Which leads me to my next subject: Kids. I want kids, but I want them to come out of my uterus. Not only am I not ready nor wanting to be a Step Mother, but I just want *1* thing to be sacred and of my own. I’m open to meeting someone who is divorced (which by the way is 1:1 who contact me), but offspring baggage too…that’s tough. Both my sister & sister-in-law were ripping me a new one over the weekend, telling me I *have* to be more open about guys with children, otherwise I’m vastly limiting my ability to meet men.

God forbid I’m limited in any capacity.

So, I’m supposed to settle. I’m supposed to just totally throw my hands up and say screw it. Just give me anyone. I’m over 30 and maxing out here soon.

Really though — where do you draw the line on settling?

I need a cold shower… this 100+ degree heat is clearly getting to me.