Tall Schmall -- Bigger is not Better

Dudes, I have a very serious case of PMS. This only highlights the fact that I am getting old, because this used to not happen to me. For a while I’d have “sad” PMS, but now I am just TIRED and sort of intolerant of, well, everything. I have started a number of emails today to vent but when I read them I actually sound depressed. I am not depressed, I just SOUND that way, and in a couple of days, I’ll feel better.

You know what it’s time for don’t you?

I will not have a bad attitude
I am young and fun
I will motivate myself
I am happy. Most of the time

I will NOT have a bad attitude
I am young and fun
I will motivate myself
I will be happy for christ’s sake!

Whew okay. I bet you’re wondering what I have been up to. Weeeeee---helll, is this roster full or what. Oh it IS. SO, two weekends ago I met Tall Man. Tall Man is one of eleven children…yep you read it right…11! Can you say Irish Catholic? At least he knows how to compromise! We met in my town. He does some building stuff so he has that been-out-in-the-sun rugged vibe, has a rough voice like he smoked a pack of Marlboros before meeting me (he doesn’t smoke), and seems genuinely nice. OH, ha, and he has an 18 year old daughter. Yes, it bugged me out a bit. I mean, a kid is one thing, but an 18 year old means you are too old for me. Besides, and this is just an aside, I’m starting to get bothered a little by men with kids. Not that there is anything wrong with that, but that is just so special that I wonder – Do I want to have my wedding with someone who’s already had one with someone else? Or kids with someone who’s already seen it? Do I want all of my most important moments to be compared to his last wife? Ick. No.

I digress. We ate like 150 oysters and I surely loved him for this, EXCEPT for the way he slopped 3 spoons of cocktail sauce on the little slippery fellas, then talked with his hands, flinging cocktail sauce onto my pink cashmere sweater. “Oh no, don’t worry, it’s okay.” Lol. At the end of the date, he walked me to my car and I realized, holy shitballs, this guy is taaaaaall. He is 6’3”. At least the goodbye was all taken care of bc he was so tall, he wasn’t even close to my face, so a smooth kiss would be almost impossible...can you imagine "Hey love, mind standing on the bumper for thsi goodbye?" SO to avoid eye contact all together seeing as I was navel height, was easy. How can you even have sex like that? I can think of a lot of impediments there. I mean with that kid of discrepancy, you'd really need to get creative.

Oh AND, two days later he texts me: “I am going for sushi. You can come if you want.” Okay, you can’t even call? And what’s this “if you want” bullshit? No more Tall Man. I’m not grooving on him.

Next is Agent Mike. Agent Mike works for the FBI, but he is far from the badass I wish he was – so far. He sort of has this geeky, but nice look about him…definitely geeky though. Comes from a tiny town, super nice, and I can imagine that he goes to church and never swears, in which case, this won’t work, so I hope he’s edgier than that. He was engaged a year ago and loves kids (check and CHECK). Then when we talked on the phone, no joke, he laughed like a little girl all high pitched and nervous sounding. I think his voice is higher than mine. Hmmmm, what to make of this. All of this, yet he seemed confident. He kept telling me I was funny, asked me out, and texted me when traveling over the next week…and now we have a date Friday. He is REALLY nice and I hope he is attractive, at least sort of. Good god.

Finally, there are three more men that I am emailing with. Eharmony has sent me men in such abundance that I asked them to stop emailing me matches. I have like 20 men I haven’t even considered yet! It’s like finding a needle in a haystack I swear. Fun nonetheless. Have I mentioned that I must get some action soon? I’m not even kidding. This has gotten ridiculous now. I’m not even sure when I last had satisfying sex…god, honestly, I think it was almost two years ago. TWO YEARS! I’m having heart palpitations. Later my peeps.