My Dating Manifest-O

Over the last year and a half, I’ve learned a few things about dating. I only started doing it when I turned 40. Yes, you heard me right. Long story, just go with me on this. I’m seriously behind the curve when it comes to the modern relationship. But, it’s brought me to this place. The place in time where I’ve decided to write a brief manifesto. I struggled with using the word “manifesto” simply because in the age of the Internet, I didn’t want to get flagged by the Department of Homeland Security. In particular, I live in Montana, where lots of wackos come to embrace their wackoness. Generally, wackos in Montana aren’t actually born here, they’re transplants. I was born and raised here, so I’m perfectly sane... really.

I decided to stick with “manifesto” because it’s time to get serious. It’s time to be true to what I want and send a clear message to those “potentials” out there. I also mean it as a new age-y double entendre. If you know anything about manifesting what you want into your life, you’ll know what I mean.

So, here goes. Listen up people!

If you think relationships are a game to be played with strategies and plans: Move it along, I don’t have time for you. I am who I am. I don’t want to try and manipulate anyone into liking or loving me. So, I’ll just tell you a little about me. I am caring and kind most of the time. I occasionally get pissed off, but that’s usually directed at my family and people who lie a lot. Not once, but a lot. I can stand up for myself, I am hard on myself, I am funny and I can be generous. I am extremely independent. I tried asking for help from someone I was seeing, once, because all my girlfriends told me that guys like to rescue the ladies and to fix things. My girlfriends were mistaken. I am strong, both emotionally and physically. I want a partner, not someone to take care of me or pay the bills. I deserve the same.

If you just want to “help each other out”, aka: friends with benefits: Move it along and quickly. I don’t want to be your friend with benefits. Friends with benefits is a complete misnomer. It should just be called “benefits” or better yet, random sex with someone you sort of know. People (both men and women) who just want benefits typically don’t know what real friendship is... at all. And although I want a relationship that includes lots of the benefit in question, and I mean lots in a very literal way because I spent 15 years in celibacy, I want the benefit to be in addition to a good conversation, endless laughter, spontaneous dancing in the kitchen, sitting on the couch cuddling (yes cuddling) and lots of other things.

If you’re married but unhappy: Run far away from me. I understand your plight, I really do. Things happen, people grow apart, things change, things are complicated, there are assets or children involved. I get it. But grow some balls and make a decision. You aren’t doing yourself, your spouse, your children, or your finances any favors. Is it hard? Abso-freakin-lutely! But life is too short to make each other miserable and trust me, the kids know, and they aren’t happy either. In fact, everyday you “fake it” you are chipping away bit by bit at their ability to have a healthy relationship in the future. And I am not willing to complicate matters further by being your friend-with-benefits-second-choice-waiting-in-the-wings-hoping-you’ll-eventually-choose-me-girl. Nope, sorry. So, run away and good luck in your quest for testicles.

If you want me to take vacation time so that we can sit in your basement and play “World of Warcraft”, forget it. I really shouldn’t have to explain this one.

If you want to uproot your whole family and move to my hometown before we even talk on the phone, let alone meet each other... I’ll run, you stay where you are.

If you want to send me penis pictures before we meet in person: As an artist, I totally appreciate the learning value. And the variety in shapes and sizes is scientifically fascinating. A couple were even fairly impressive, but let’s face it. It’s just a little too exhibitionist. Let’s avoid it. After we’re in a relationship... I'm all for it.

If you bought your car... your jacket... your shoes to impress someone: Move it along. I’m pretty sure we’ll have nothing to talk about. This goes double for someone who makes snap judgements about people’s looks or fashion sense.

If you won’t allow a dog to sleep on the bed or get on the couch: See ya!

If you are relatively honest, funny, sincere, creative, like adventure (not the extreme-you-could-die-zip-lining-in-the-Amazon type but more spontaneous and slightly safer adventures)... if you like movies, being outside, working hard, building a future, laughing, traveling, art, cuddling, zombies, sex (not zombie-sex... ewwwww squishy! And ewwww!) and me... then say hello. Better yet ask me for coffee.

Because here’s the thing. I’m worth it.

Lori & the Three Vikings

Okay, well first, there are more than three, but still not enough to make me a floozy. Second, the Vikings are kicking my ass slightly less than my now 41 year old hormones are. Third, I believe I have a multiple personality disorder.

Let’s deal with each one of these things separately, shall we?

More than three, but less than floozy...
So the last year of my dating life has been filled with a Goldilocks metaphor. This one is too soft, this one too hard (I’m sensing a double-entendre here, do you sense it too?), this one too cold, this one too hot... I haven’t found the one that’s just right, quite yet. And at this point, I’m not sure I should keep sampling the porridge.

Here’s the thing... no matter their Goldilocks category, the Vikings have all been good guys, each in their own way. But this dating thing hurts. It hurts to be dumped. It's even painful to hurt someone else’s feelings. And they feel exactly the same way in both regards. I’ve heard that geese mate for life, I’ve often wondered if they hurt this much while they’re trying to find their mate. Note to self: Ask a goose for dating advice. Believe it or not, I will actually do this.

The reason that I’m considering not sampling any more porridge is that I don’t want to get hurt or hurt anyone else, again. My last few experiences have broken my heart even if I was the one saying goodbye. That’s the thing about relationships, I guess. You can’t guarantee anything to the other person. You just can’t. No matter how much you want to. You can believe you can with all your heart, but people, including myself (and that's a huge understatement), are unpredictable. Circumstances change, people grow or change, life changes in general and there we are back in Kansas stealing sparkly red slippers off a dead witch so that we can try again.

I’ve found that if I’m honest about this concept, Vikings interpret it one of three ways: They think I don’t want a relationship or want to be alone ("relationship" and "alone" as defined by them); They think I just want sex... Most of the time they’re perfectly fine with this, but they also think it means they can ask my massage therapist out for coffee after they leave my house; or they think I’m playing with them like a cat plays with a three-legged mouse. None of these are the case, but usually I don’t have an opportunity to explain why.

The case is, in fact, that I want to be happy. And if being with someone doesn’t make me happier than I am by myself, then I’ll stay by myself. I don't expect someone to be perfect. I don't expect them to change. I want to love them for who they are. I want to be able to see a future with them. I don’t want to be in a relationship so that I have someone to share half the expenses with. That’s not ethical, and it’s not love. But trust me, a lot of people do it. And if I’m really honest, I’ve thought about it. I also don’t want someone to take care of me in any sense. I want to take care of each other. But again, it would be nice not to feel like I’m holding up the world all by myself all the time. I can’t put into words what happy looks like. At least not specifically... But I think I’ll know it when I see it. Until then, I’m not going to pretend that I can guarantee anything at all.

The Vikings are winning...
Yes, the Vikings AND my hormones are kicking my ass. First I should tell you that I only started dating when I turned 40. Yep. I know, long story, one I’m saving for a book I’m writing. It’s completely true, with the exception of having a few movie or dance dates in high school and college. And by few I mean between five and eight. Pathetic, I know.

Here’s the problem with not dating until you’re 40:

You have no schema! In fact, you’re up a creek without a schema. You just don’t have a clue what to do. This puts you at an extreme disadvantage and means that you’re going to do a LOT wrong. You’re going to hurt yourself and others in the process. You’re going to feel one minute like the world is the most glorious place in the universe (this is an oxytocin rush, just so you know). And the next minute, you’re going to feel like you can’t do anything right.

Let me put this in perspective. I’ve spent 19 years, just shy of half my life span, living alone. I had one roommate for a short period and it was actually good (maybe not for the roommate, because I’m pretty sure I’m hard to live with).

The point of telling you this is that I haven’t done a lot of the relationship-y things that most people have. I haven’t shacked up with a guy. I haven’t had a guy spend the night. I’ve never had a morning after breakfast. Bear with me, the TMI will be over soon. I’ve never cuddled on the couch to watch a movie with my significant other. I’ve cooked dinner for a few people, but the only one I was dating, I wasn’t really dating. It’s complicated. I’ve never had a joint checking account. I’ve never had anyone pay my bills for me, but I helped the it’s complicated guy financially a couple of times. I’ve never rented an apartment, bought a house or a car or even a teddy bear on joint credit. Never adopted a dog with anyone. Never had a child. I’ve never said “Honey, pass me the ketchup.” to anyone.

I have a vastly different perspective on life than most people and it’s tough for anyone to put themselves in my shoes. I don't blame them, I'm kind of a weirdo. Imagine going nearly 15 years without a kiss of any kind. Fifteen years without someone ever holding your hand. I’m not telling you this to garner sympathy, I’m trying only to describe my perspective.

I woke up this morning with a huge epiphany. One I didn’t like very much. It was: I may never be capable of having a significant other. This is a relief in a lot of ways because let’s face it, dating is hell. It takes an enormous amount of time and effort. This isn’t bad. It should take an enormous amount of time and effort or it wouldn’t matter. It hurts like hell when something doesn’t work out. And again, it should. Without hurt, you wouldn’t have a context for joy. But the other edge of this double-edged epiphany is that there is a pretty good chance (not 100%, mind you, but so far that’s my track-record), that I’ll grow older and eventually die having never experienced the relationship-y things I referred to above. So, yes I’m relieved, the pressure’s off, I can get back to work. But, I am also deeply and profoundly saddened. That takes me to my third point.

I believe I have a multiple personality disorder:
Most of the last year has been maddening! Mad-Hatter maddening. Too many fairy tales in this blog? Well, anyway... When I meet someone, sometimes even before I physically meet them, let’s say we text or talk on the phone, I can usually tell if we’ll be mostly compatible or not. I say mostly because no two people are ever 100% compatible. It’s just not possible to agree on EVERYTHING, or like ALL the same things. That’s why we’re called individuals. But, we can be mostly compatible and in my observations, those seem to be the happiest relationships. I can usually get a sense for compatibility with someone pretty quickly. And on the flip-side I can generally sense when something’s off as well. I don’t believe I’m always right about these things, but I try and make the best decisions with the information I have when I have it. I’ve also learned to trust my Spidey-sense in the last year, because if I ignore it, I regret it. Where are the multiple personalities, you ask? Well...

I seem to vacillate between the realist, the epically horny teenager and the pink sparkly tutu clad princess looking for her prince charming.

The easiest one to explain is the epically horny teenager. Fifteen years of no dating. Nuff said!

The realist. This is the woman who knows things sometimes work out and sometimes they don’t She is too honest, too logical (Lori-logic is a little different than say... Einstein-logic), occasionally skeptical, and always has a plan, flexible though it might be. She tries to be honest with her potential mates because if she fails them, she wants them to be prepared. She wants to spare their feelings right off the bat. In a twisted way, she ends up hurting their feelings by being honest about her own shortcomings. The trouble with the realist is that she never wants to count her chickens before they hatch. In some respects, she robs herself of her own potential futures.

The sparkly pink princess has counted the 5th generation of hatch-lings and built little pink chicken condos with her prince charming. She wants the fairy tale. She believes in the fairy tale. She believes every “this one” might be THE ONE. And with every potential prince charming, she floats around to the beat of her own drum... heart... something. I kind of lost that metaphor somewhere in the middle, sorry. My point is, she wants to jump in with both feet, tutu flying up over her head laughing all the way.

As you can imagine, the realist and the sparkly pink princess don’t get along all that well. For me, that means I’ve got a constant war going on in my head. Take a chance! No, wait and see. TAKE A CHANCE! No, I already know he’s not the one. TAKE A CHANCE, DAMMIT! But what if I do and it doesn’t work out and I hurt him? Argh!!!! Throw in the teenage harlot and I’m ready for meds and a comfy padded room.



Meanwhile, the Vikings end up hating me or dumping me.

At the end of the day, here we all are... Me, the realist, the sparkly pink princess, the teenage harlot and some Vikings, all special in our own way. I don’t know where we’ll all end up, but I know this. Eventually, we’ll get where we need to go. It might hurt, it might never work out. It might be happily ever after. Who knows? None of us. And fate has a funny way of making it happen  although she beats the hell out of you along the way.

Little Things Make Me Happy

So, I've been thinking... I do a lot of thinking while I'm driving and I'm sure it would be better if I was concentrating on driving, but there you go. Anyway, I was thinking about the measure of a life. What makes it special and worth living?

Of course the answer to this question is vast and depends a great deal on what's important to you. These are the things that are important to me.

Take a ride in a Jeep (or another less superior convertible): You knew this was coming right? But it really is an important one. I had the privilege of driving in scenic Glacier National Park this summer. It was in August and the days were warm and filled with sun, the nights colder than I like. But driving through sun-dappled trees, listening to birds and the breeze rustle through ancient pine trees was just short of an out-of-body experience. I would describe my faith as something other than Christian, but I do believe in spirit... in connectedness... in something larger than me. And if you ever doubt that Spirit or God or Goddess exist, take a convertible ride through Glacier. You'll feel it when the sun and shadows touch your face and run their fingers through your hair.

Visit one place that makes you feel insignificant:  Now, this sounds a little counter-intuitive, but it's a continuation of the theme above. Standing in a place that makes you feel insignificant gives you valuable perspective. It helps you to understand your place in the world and how miraculous your life is no matter how you think of it most days. For me a place that makes me feel insignificant could be any stretch of wilderness. A gigantic mountain, the middle of the woods, or sitting next to a wild stream. For you it may be standing at the foot of the Eiffel Tower or at the Vatican or even at Ground Zero. Find that place and just be.

Have a reliable "in case of emergency" contact: I recently started the paperwork for my very own passport, but in doing so, I realized that I didn't have anyone to name as my "in case of emergency". This was the case for a couple of reasons. First, I don't have much immediate family left and those who are, really don't know me well enough to effectively carry out my wishes. Either they will be unwilling or incapable. That sounded pretty snooty, but it's true. But then something amazing happened. I found out a few years ago that I have a 1/2 brother & a sister-in-law I didn't know about. I met them in person on my birthday which was also the memorial service for my beloved dog. They flew in to attend the service and my brother helped me plant a sturdy oak tree for the occasion. They are amazing people. And when I talked to them about my dilemma, they volunteered to be my emergency contacts! Having someone to play that role for you isn't just a matter of paperwork. It means that somewhere in the world, someone cares about one of the most fundamental needs a person can have... knowing that someone, somewhere, will notice if you were gone from the earth. No matter how independent we are, we all need this. We need someone to acknowledge that we lived, that we touched their life for good or for bad.

Achieve one big goal: Everyone deserves one big thing to be proud of. And when I say big, remember that it's a subjective term. For some people, making a friend is big. For some, selling 10 Cadillacs is big. Don't forget to take stock of what you've already accomplished because you might have already done it. If not, decide what your big thing is and go after it. If you get it done, pick something else. Life is short, live it.

Recognize a miracle: Real miracles happen around us everyday. Things that we take for granted. Most of them aren't biblical or epic, they're little things that make us happy or catch our attention. Remember that getting out of bed can be a miracle. So is the fact that your heart beats without you doing a thing to make it so. Look for miracles everyday. I will guarantee that you will find them. They are all around us in the little details of life.


Have one devoted friend: I've been lucky in this area. I've had lots of people that I could call to have fun or help me move or even cheer me up. And I hope that I have been this for others as well. Friends are important. They connect us to the world. The person that I counted on the most recently had to move to a different state. I didn't realize how much I would miss her, but it's a good thing to know it now. It means that she made a difference in my life and now I can truly appreciate her.

Have one day you can call "the best ever": Wouldn't it be nice if everyone had a day that was perfect. Like big, perfect is also subjective. Obviously, there are a lot of things that are not under our control. But the way we choose to react to them can make a world of difference. I'm not saying you should go through life with an artificial smile and pretend that nothing is getting you down, but even sad or frustrating times can be lessons. Learning what you need to and moving on is the gift. So start thinking about what your perfect day would look like. Imagine it with all your might and do this until it actually happens.

Have one epic love affair: I'm not talking about cheating. Not at all. But everyone deserves one big love, even if it's short-lived. I am not a conventional woman. I've never actually been able to picture myself married with the white picket fence. And I haven't actually had my epic love affair yet, but all good things take time. It's something I will never lose hope in, although I have to say my hope has been flickering lately. But here's the thing... it doesn't matter to me if it lasts a weekend, a summer or a lifetime. Of course I'd be lying if I said I didn't think a lifetime sounded like the best option. But really, I just want to have experienced that one connection. To meet someone who gets me and that I feel the same way about. Someone who I can talk to for hours about ideas and life and love. Someone who is passionate and kind, happy and affectionate... and maybe a little viking if you know what I mean.

Mid-Life Crisis Wanderlust

I can hardly believe it, but this year I turn 40. Yep, the big FOUR-OH! I used to think that guys with their mid-life crisis excuse used to buy red convertibles and step out on their wives were completely full of shit, yep, you heard me. But as I fast approach this milestone of mid-life, I am starting to believe there is something to it. And YES Virginia, women can have mid-life crises as well. I know this because I am smack dab in the middle of one and have been for nearly a year now. There are some other stressful things happening in my life, but I truly believe my behavior and feelings of late are directly related to being 40.

I am happy to say that I bought a convertible. It's actually a Jeep Wrangler, which is the perfect convertible for a Montana girl like me. In fact, when I pull up along side a red Miata sporting a blonde (which is essentially the anti-me), I actually consider running over her... or just running over the Miata ;) I am also happy to say that my newly found and dearly loved convertible has spawned many bumper sticker ideas, so it might actually pay for itself in the long run. Not to mention the fact that I can climb things, run over things, barrel through the mud and feel the wind in my hair and the sun on my face. What's better than that?

Another odd thing is happening to me in this wave of second childhood. I feel like changing... Changing everything actually... Me, where I live, my job, my city. There are days when I just want to unzip my "me-suit", put my dog in the Jeep and hit the road for destinations unknown. I think the only things I don't really want to change are my dog and my Jeep.

Honestly, if I had enough money to feel secure about it, I'd be gone tomorrow. I'd hit the road in search of adventure, eligible lumberjacks or maybe Vikings... or maybe both? I'd also see as much of this country and other attached countries as I could possibly see. When I finally wore out the Jeep, I'd grab a flight to Europe and do the same--maybe my Viking search would be more successful there?

Picture the adventure as a little "Eat.Pray.Love" a little tattoo parlor, and a little "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Universe". Bon Voyage!
L

(If you would like to find your own adventure bumper sticker, check out my online store at: www.cafepress.com/bumpertude. If you want to see some other fun designs, try www.naughtyviking.com)