I am hiding.
I wish I was kidding, but I’m not. Dang.
I am sitting here whisper-typing, and hiding from the hell that is Match.com. And I swear to G-d, I’m not kidding, I am totally whispering in my head as I type. Probably abnormal, but whatever. I want to scream. I’m in hell. I signed up for this fucking Match.com thing, and I paid for 6 months…I am counting down the days until my subscription ends. Let me just fill you in on this madness. I swear, it can’t end soon enough, except for this super-hot-soccer-guy I found. He’s yummy. And I’m going out with him tonight. Just a side note, the rest of this is hell. And if he sucks, he will be included in Devil’s spawn tomorrow.
Why would I do this, you ask? 
I was mad at Pita Boy, that is clear. This is obviously his fault. Ha. I was in need of something to keep me busy. Working out just wasn’t filling the void. Wine, not cutting it. Come on, no bullshit here. And Tinder is just so “last year”. So, I tried Match. I thought, what the hey? It’s gotta be better than J-Date. So, I filled out this dumb profile. And I never took it seriously. Not for one minute. I was just going on it to have fun! Ya know, maybe meet a new friend. Jeez!!! So I said in my profile, “Hi. My name is Jen, and I can tie a cherry stem with my tongue. Oh, and I know how to do The Wobble.” hahaha. I am dying!!! Who knew this was going to cause such a Match EXPLOSION? Now, I’m not saying I’m all that. No no. I am not. But I guess that 360 connections is a little over the top? LOL! I’m like, hell to the NO. MEN are so dumb. And silly. Who cares if I can tie a cherry stem with my tongue!!! What about my BRAIN??? What about my personality? What about my finger nail polish?
And now, I can’t shake these dudes.
It’s connected to my email. They wink. And they email. And they post. And they chat. And I want to cry. I just want it to stop. Seriously, as I type, I am getting email alerts in the corner of my screen. All their “handles”. This one wants to chat. And That one likes my pic. OMG. Really? They are all sweet. They mean well. That is a lie. They are not all sweet. Some of them are creepy stalkers. But most are nice. One of the guys I talked to asked if I like dogs, when I told him yes, he told me he would buy me one. Ummm. Ok. Thanks? I think. For the puppy present. Who the flip offers to buy a woman a dog? That is just weird!! On a dating site? I thought maybe I misread it. But no, he really offered an animal as a bribe. A doggie-bribe. Like, date me…and I will give you a dog. G-d help me. I do not want a dog, or you. Fuck. How about you lose my number, and I call PETA because giving away animals is surely some kind of violation of dog rights. Or codes. Or something. It’s like doggie trafficking. Again, I am laughing out loud in Starbucks. People are staring and I want to explain, but what is the point. No one will believe me. Not one of these people. I should just hand them one of my cards. Weirdos.
I just want to meet a guy that can hang. Be real, and chill out. No pressure. Just be with me, and have fun. Kurt and Goldie. Remember that? From one of my past blogs. Ya know, Kurt Russel and Goldie Hawn…they never got married, but live happily ever after in non-wedded bliss. The actors. Famous, sure. But they know how to do it. Just be secure enough to do their own thing, and just be. Be happy. Be content. Be enough for each other. And trust each other. Live their lives separately, but together. And know that at night, they will end up in each other’s beds. What is the big deal? Why is that so hard to find? Sigh. Happiness. Sex, sex and more sex. And pure unmarried bliss. Duh. It’s that simple. And I know this is hard to say or admit for most divorcees…but I am going to say it…
Ready?
The only bonus of divorce, if there is an upside at all…is that you actually get a BREAK from your kids! Am I right? You actually get a few days, or hours…or a week to yourself to regroup and recharge! Take it, and use it…and your kids will be better for it! 
I think it’s what most of us want to say, but just can’t. Or you’re scared of being judged. Or someone will think you’re an asshole. Well, you’re not. You are just being true to yourself. I do not want another family. Not now. I’m not there. I have my boys. I have my house. I have my life. And I’m good to go. For now. And maybe, forever. So, girls…say it! For the love of all things holy, SAY IT before you lose the one thing you have, YOURSELF! And the next thing you know, you’re doing someone else’s laundry on the weeks you don’t have your kiddos! Or you are giving up Jazzercise. Or spending your off weeks with his kids. Not to say it’s not nice, or fun to be with your man’s kids. Shit, I loved it. I love other people’s kids. I teach dance for a living. And I truly love kids. But not everyone does. Not everyone has it in them to love someone else’s children. And it’s okay to admit it. No one will hate you for it, in fact the guy should respect you. Be honest. And don’t change who you are for anyone else.
So, who wants to date me now? I look like a selfish bitch, huh? Well sorry for being honest. I want to be me. Just me. I want someone to date me. Not my kids. Not my dog. Not my ex-husband. I just want a guy to want ME. Hi, me. Just lil ole me. Enough of that, “If you want me, you have to want my kids too” crap. I’m so not there. If you love me, you will love my boys when the time is right. Plain and simple. Get to know me….and then, we can talk about blending this shiz up. But until I am 100% sure that you are the guy for me, no one is meeting my main men! I don’t care if you offer me a dog. Or a hamster. Or a new Porsche. Well, if you offer me a new Porsche, I might let you meet my kids.
Actually, if you give me a new Porsche, I will give you my kids. Is that against the law? It’s probably no worse that doggie-trafficking. ;)
xo j
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