Tag Archives: Ashley Madison

Cocky vs. Cunty

Greetings, dear readers!
I do hope you have all survived the holidays relatively unscathed. Yes, I realize we still need to weather my least favorite night of the year — New Year’s Eve — before we can call the season officially over. (And I’ll need to be back on the east coast, as well.) I’ve been so distracted getting through the month of December entertaining and being entertained, hangin’ with my sister and her kids on both coasts, not to mention with my sanity intact and never wearing pants, I’ve somewhat neglected my tales of online dating disasters. I just couldn’t find the time to schedule blind dates, what with all the holly jolly.

But of course, the internet never sleeps (or spends time with family), so while I was busy celebrating, my dating site profiles have been maintaining my sorry-ass search for Mr. Right. Or Mr. Tolerable. It remains a horror show. As I mentioned a few days ago, I signed up for Nerve’s dating site. I haven’t been able to initiate contact with anyone on there because I haven’t paid yet and am not in much of a hurry to; not only are the pickin’s a bit slim, the site is nowhere near fully functional. OKCupid is still free and they’re leaps, bounds and winks ahead of Nerve.

Along with the aforementioned flaws, there are men on the site who still think it’s the ’90s, when Nerve was oh-so-outré and their personals were used primarily for hooking up. The site is now clearly labeled for dating site so I was somewhat surprised to find (or be found by) this particular philanderer. I suppose I shouldn’t have been, given his screen name — EroticFun — a tip-off I somehow overlooked. Below is our backing and forthing, with my (hopefully hilarious) editorializing to lift your spirits. Cheers!

Abbey,
[Hey, thanks for getting the spelling wrong, douchebag. Didn’t you notice it correctly spelled in the EMAIL ADDRESS you used?]
I trust you’ll treat my photo with discretion. [Perhaps if you’d been a nice guy. Given your assholery, I gotta go with HELLS TO THE NO! But I will give you the obligatory black box over your eyes. ‘Cause I’m not always a total cunt.] I’m no pretty boy, but I’ve been called handsome by woman [sic].
Please let me know what you think, one way or the other.
Thanks,
Ari

5’10”
160 lbs
48 year old white male
lean, muscular body (better than most 20 year olds)
shiny salt & pepper hair
been called handsome (no pretty boy here)
well read
well educated
sense of humor
strong, strong sex drive
insatiable
dominant (light bondage, nipple play, spanking, hair pulling, cock worship, D/s role play)
love to please
married
discreet — you be too
dd free — you be too
Manhattan

Thanks for your extensive CV.
Not interested.
Abby

Sorry to hear that.  Good luck in your search…
[Aah, there’s that “finality” phrase. But could I leave well enough alone? Apparently not.]

Not sure if you realized it but you neglected to make your married
status clear…
And I am anything BUT submissive…
A
[To be honest, my reason for writing this was that I felt like I’d been too rude and/or dismissive. I thought it would be polite to let him know why I wasn’t interested. Or at least one of the reasons. Er, two. He took it the wrong way. Of course!]

Abby,
I like that you got back to me.  It means that you’re intrigued. [Could this guy be any cockier? Cock photo notwithstanding…]
I don’t think it matters that I’m married.  And I have no problem that you’re not a sub. I would love to bed a tigress… [A “tigress?” Are we in a James Bond movie?]
Do you think you can handle me? [Oh, sweet Christ. The cockiness continues! I’ve handled way more, my grey-haired stranger. WAY more! I do appreciate that the prick he provided wasn’t erect. It shows a certain amount of…restraint.]
Ari

Um, sorry, not THAT intrigued.
And really, are you 48? Or is that a bit of an exaggeration?
[Being nice? Out the fucking window. This guy is so full of himself I decided to unleash complete cunt-dom!]

Not that intrigued, then what does it matter?  The photo was taken 4 weeks ago. [Sorry, but I don’t believe that for a minute.]
Peace.

[And again, unable to leave well enough alone, I write back.]
Oh, and by the way, it actually DOES matter that you’re married.
[Because, yes, it actually does matter! As it would, I assume, to 99% of women.]

Abby,
I’m assuming that you have better things to do with your life then chase down trivial matters from an irrelevant website like Nerve. [Trivial matters? Like the fact that you’re married? And cruising a dating site? I think not. And if the web site is irrelevant, what the hell are you doing on it?]
So let’s cut to the chase.  Do you want to fuck — yes or no?  [Do I want to fuck? Is the site LetsFuck.com? No! It’s a goddamnmotherfucking DATING SITE! Though wait, yes, I DO want to fuck. Just NOT YOU!] If no, then let’s both part ways as adults.
Ari

No.
[And thus far I’ve left well enough alone. I should’ve added the suggestion that he join Ashley Madison, where at least the assumption is that everyone’s married. But I hit “send” on my “No” so quickly I didn’t have time to think! I best not bother, lest he believe I am — yes indeedy! — interested. And I can’t tell you how NOT interested I am! Gaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!]

Gratitude

The responses to last night’s post have been coming in and they’re kinda cracking me up. One fellow blogger read me to filth for wanting a faithful man while using the Ashley Madison web site. He must’ve missed that I’m not on the site anymore. But still he has a point. My morals have always been questionable. I was never the perfect wife. But I believe I am capable of change. And hope that we all are.

The responses from men are, predictably, about whether they “measure up” or not. When I say I want someone “tall, 6’3″ or taller,” it doesn’t mean I would turn down a date with someone 5’8″. These desires are merely that: desires. I wouldn’t turn down a job offer of $50,000 a year. Or even $25,000 a year. But I can dream, can’t I?

The Poet has set out a more life-affirming set of challenges, as I would expect from him:

One: Write a list of the ten things you are most grateful for in your life. You only get 10.
Two: Write a post on what you want and what you have to offer in friendship.
Oh and don’t forget to keep praying for James everyday for two weeks!

So, in response to The Poet:
The 10 Things I Am Grateful For In  My Life
1. My corporeal being: my body, my health, my genetics, I guess. I have been blessed with great health, tall and sturdy stature, good teeth and skin and hair, a complex brain and many innate talents.
2. My family: two loving, doting, attentive parents; a sister who loves me fiercely and does everything she can to help me; an amazing extended family filled with unique characters, passionate and opinionated and extremely loving; my sister’s kids, who give me hope for the future. (Or should I say force me to hope for the future?) They are incredible humans. My grandparents were also pretty fuckin’ cool.
3. An impressive palette of loyal, loving and supportive friends, some of whom have been friends for over 20 years. I am fortunate to make friends easily and am then able to pick and choose the ones I  love most!
4. My creativity: it has allowed me to create costumes that make me smile, produce art that has made others smile and, most importantly, permits me to express myself in an eloquent, easily transmitted manner. Or so people tell me!
5. A wildly interesting life: this is partially my doing, being the experience junkie that I am. But it is also my parents, wanting to expose me to many things, being in a position to travel and see the world, the money to send me to college and support me while I was there. Everyone and everything that has conspired to make my life so enviable.
6. Loving relationships: I’ve had several long-term relationships with boyfriends in my life. While in the relationships I felt great love (or thought I did) and really loved being in love. (That’s a lotta love in one sentence….but that’s the topic here.) While some break-ups were less pleasant than others, I can honestly say that I am on friendly terms with all of these men. (The most recent one being the only possible exception. I will strive for civility in that circumstance as well.) Though some of these men are now far away, living very new and different lives, I believe firmly that if we were stuck across a dinner table from each other, it would be a loving, enjoyable experience. The best part of these loves is that I learned something valuable from each of these men and took those lessons with me into subsequent relationships.
7. This may sound silly, but I must include pets: since I was little I’ve had wonderful, loving dogs. Life is just better with a dog in it, from my childhood poodle to Zoe, my poodle of 16 years, to Noodle, who Eric got in the divorce settlement, to the fosters I’ve taken in, including the two little scruffies sitting on either side of me right now. Dog breath smells sweet. Dogs love their humans. Even their temporary humans. Pure, pure love.
8. Education: I went to a really, really great elementary school that gave me a solid base of education that I’m still calling upon. Junior high and high school weren’t quite as excellent but they were “second in the nation,” so it was better than most. I can spell. I can punctuate. I can string a sentence together. And I have my K-12 teachers to thank for that. Along with all the award-winning authors whose books I’ve read. College was more fun than learning but, looking back, I did take in a lot of knowledge, in between all the drinking and tanning and roller skating. Physics for Poets sticks with me as does my Sociology class that makes me occasionally wish, still, that I had taken that route. My brain loves to learn stuff.
9. Being born in America: okay, now I’m stretching! But I’ve gotta name 10 things and yes, this is one of them. The life I’ve led — and continue to live — can only have been led in America. We have incredible freedoms, a country rich in culture and adventure and…land! I couldn’t have run my fetish magazine in Iraq! And I couldn’t have roller skated on the beach boardwalk in Russia. The ability to constantly reinvent myself is also a truly American thing; this country loves reinvention! The Star Spangle Banner chokes me up. Seriously.
10. Luck: this probably sounds like a cheat. If you look at everything else, they’re all somewhat a result of luck. I am lucky to have been born in America; to two loving parents with means and good genes; to have traveled and met and known so many wonderful, interesting people; to have found love more than once and loved fiercely with all my heart; to have experienced more than just about everyone I’ve met. This is probably the one thing I’m prone to forget the most easily. I need to keep reminding myself how fortunate I am and how grateful I am for this luck. I went to a sort of hippy-dippy life reading once and the woman told me that the Archangel Michael is watching over me. When people ask me if I’ve ever seen a ghost, I can distinctly recall seeing an apparition, a male, all in white, with long blond hair, standing beside my bed. It was when I was in college and, at the time, I wrote it off as too much drinking. Instead of pink elephants I was seeing a blond dude in a white robe. But maybe it was Michael. I am truly a lucky person.

My second task was to write a list of what I want in a friend and what I have to offer in a friendship. I don’t think I need to repeat anything that I’ve already written. I already have what I want in a friend. In many friends. I feel fortunate and fulfilled in my friendships. I can’t claim to want or need more. And what I have to offer in a friendship is the same litany of things I have to offer a lover — with the obvious exception of the sex! I am a great friend.

I tip-tapped all of this out in a bit of a hurry. I guess I’ll wait and see if The Poet accepts my responses. He’s keeping me on my toes. And lives on as an example of something GOOD that can come out of being on Ashley Madison! I will, as he instructed, continue to pray for James’s happiness. And mine!

What I Want

Well, with all the talk lately of bailing on OkCupid and Ashley Madison, of wailing over the “morally bankrupt” ex’s heinous antics and generally “going negative,” I thought perhaps the prayers and appeals to the universe might work a bit better if I actually delineated what it is I want. I’ll start with the lists I made out in the desert last year and perhaps add a few details.

RELATIONSHIP
I want to be loved.
I want to love someone.
I want a thoughtful man.
I want a man with a great job and enough money to keep us both comfortable.
I want a man who can communicate.
I want a man who gives good massages.
I want a man who is tall — 6’3″ or taller!
I want a man who loves my friends and my family.
I want a man with great teeth and great hair.
I want a man who enjoys puzzles and games.
I want a man who will cherish me.
I want a man who will make me laugh.
I want a man to grow old with.
I want a man who I have great sex with and great sexual chemistry with.
I want a man who loves his work.
I want a man who is a great kisser.
I want a man who is generous.
I want a man with nice skin.
I want a faithful man.
I want a man who is physically and emotionally healthy and strong.

CAREER
I want a job I enjoy.
I want to experience mastery — or at least appreciation and fulfillment.
I want to make a great living — $80,000 a year!
I want my job to be creative and challenging.
I want to work with fun and interesting people.
I want to be in a position with responsibilities.
I want a cool boss — or to be my own boss!
I want a job with flexible hours.
I want a job with great health benefits.
I want a job.

HOME
I want a home.
I want a home I can afford.
I want a little Poodle and wifi and my head vases on a little shelf all around the ceilings.
I want clean floors and a coffee maker.
I want a comfortable bed with a fluffy quilt and matching pillows.
I want colorful walls and stained glass.

As you can see, I have a lot of wants! Seriously, it’s been a long year of trying to figure out exactly what it is I do want. I wrote these lists last September, while holed up in my glamorous Burning Man trailer, a glorified box on wheels. It’s home three months a year, with a reasonably comfortable bed (no fluffy quilt or matching pillows, though!), electricity and a dorm fridge. A veritable palace!

Over the past six or seven months I haven’t gotten a whole lot clearer on what I want and it’s pretty tough to visualize your desires when they aren’t fixed in your mind. So I’ve been trying. I now have a home. The floors are clean, if littered with foster dog hair. I’m enjoying the white walls at the moment so I think I’ll keep ’em. I already had some stained glass and my bed is not only comfortable, it has a fluffy quilt with matching pillows! Of course, I’ve had the quilt and pillows for well over a decade, so they could use some updating.

As for being able to afford the place, well, that’s where the “career” comes in. Or the lack of it. For now I am committed to head out into the desert again and work for The Man. But when I get back it’s gonna be time for some serious soul-searching. I can’t afford to be choosey anymore. If I have to clerk at KMart, I will. Whatever happens, I’ll figure it out. And I’ll be writing this blog, along with a book or two, even if I have to self-publish. It’s been long enough.

Which brings us to relationships. If you’ve been reading — and I know you have been! — you know where things stand. I have to wonder how I’m going to meet this mythical man. I’ve more or less given up on the online dating. The parties I go to are attended, primarily, by people half my age. Any men I meet who are over 45 and not using a fucking walker are so impressed with themselves — “Look at me! I have HAIR!” — and I suppose I can’t fault them; I’m pretty impressed with myself, too! But their confidence means they think they qualify for someone hot and young, not a 50-something broad with a blogging problem.

But I’m doing my best to be positive here, right? I’m trusting the universe to provide me, eventually, with the man who will be by my side when I take my last breath. I’m not in too big a hurry. Well, okay, maybe I am. But realistically, perhaps I’ll find someone when I’m older. Or even older than older. When I won’t turn my nose up at a man who looks like Santa or a guy without any hair. But at least I’m putting my shopping list out there.

I could get really particular and say I want someone who can spell and punctuate, someone with blue or green eyes and a foreign accent. I don’t want to narrow my search down to an impossibility but I also don’t want to settle. If you want the elevator pitch, I want someone who will love my like Eric did, kiss me like Johnny did and fuck me like James did.

There was one more list I made. It’s a list of my attributes. What I believe I have to offer a man.

ABBY-TRIBUTES
I am attractive.
I am talented.
I am in great shape.
I am healthy.
I have a great body.
I have nice hair.
I have good skin.
I have nice teeth.
I have a great sense of humor.
I am witty.
I am smart.
I am clever.
I am funny.
I am experienced.
I am interesting.
I am a good listener.
I am a great story teller.
I am a great conversationalist.
I am sexy.
I am strong.
I am compassionate.
I am understanding.
I am NOT broken.
I am eager to please.
I am passionate.
I am a considerate lover.
I am a great kisser.
I am fun in bed.
I give great head!
I give great massages.
I am great company.
I am vibrant.
I am powerful.
I am gregarious.
I am exuberant.
I am hopeful.

I know you’re out there! Here I am!

Emotionally Trying Friday

I took the weekend off. I’ve been regarding this blog as my job, since I don’t really have one. And I needed a rest. It was a very peculiar and somewhat trying Friday, followed by a bunch of fun on Saturday. This is gonna be a long one…in fact, I’m gonna break it into two separate posts…I’ll start with my emotionally draining Friday the 13th.

I had lunch plans with The Poet. We’d been exchanging involved emails discussing complex issues that I thought would be best communicated about live, so I was looking forward to it. We dug into the deep stuff right away. I told him about my “date” the previous evening with another Ashley Madison man. Yeah, I’d “retired” from that but this guy was already “in the pipeline,” so I’d agreed to meet him. I shared with The Poet how this guy, still married, had already had a three-year relationship but remained with his wife. I was baffled. We covered a lot of difficult territory, most of which is so personal that there’s no point in sharing it here. We briefly touched on coincidences and the concept of “there are no accidents.” Strange… On our previous lunch date I was almost in tears a few times. This particular day it was The Poet whose eyes welled up. As we parted, he said I’d given him a lot to think about.

By the end of our lunch, and a conversation that continued in the park, I was pretty exhausted. But I had made plans to meet a DPW friend visiting NYC. I was a little leery about getting together with the guy because he works on the same crew as my ex. It makes me uncomfortable to let people into my life who might share information about me with him. Not that it matters, I suppose, since he’s let me know that he reads this blog. Which in itself is creepy. Anyway. You, dear readers, know what I’ve been going through, at least over these past few months I’ve been writing this…Bloggers don’t have too many secrets, I guess.

My friend Sandra came over around 6. “What does this ex-boyfriend of yours look like?” she asked, completely out of the blue. I have a few pix on my hard drive and showed those to her, then said, “Oh, there are some more recent ones on Facebook.” When I clicked on those I thought it odd that he was no longer “tagged” in the photos but figured he must’ve “un-tagged” himself. Whatever.

Sandra and I went to 2A, where my DPW friend joined us for drinks and popcorn. A few beers in, he flashed his phone at me: an email from my ex to their crew list. “Why are you showing me that?” I asked, puzzled. “I thought you guys were okay,” he said, quickly putting his phone back in his pocket when he saw the look on my face. “No, we aren’t okay,” I told him. He immediately apologized and generally felt lousy. Over the next few hours a rather ugly and disappointing story came out.

This man had been seeing a woman for over a year. She and my ex had been “hanging out” recently, but the ex assured my friend, “You’ve got nothing to worry about, dude,” and claiming, “There’s nothing going on.” A week before he left on this trip that brought him to NYC, he took this woman to a party attended by many of his crew friends, including my ex. She had spent the night before with my friend, at his place. Within an hour of arriving at the party, my friend wondered where his date had gone. The woman at whose house the party was being held said, “I’ll show you.” This guy followed her, along with a few other fellow crew members, as she opened a bedroom door to reveal my ex fucking this guy’s date. Apparently everyone found this to be most amusing, since they all laughed.

Okay. I know I’ve been asking this a lot lately, but WHAT THE FUCK IS THE MATTER WITH PEOPLE? How many horrible things are wrong with this picture? Aside from my personal feelings about it all — and, hey, I have NO claims on my ex….none — as one human to another, who would do such a shitty thing? Lie to a friend. Fuck his date. In the middle of a party. And the woman who led the guy to see this? What on earth was she thinking? Is humiliating a friend some new sort of sport? Everyone who laughed? Is the embarrassment of someone you care for funny? It all makes me ill.

Well, having received his news I was, surprisingly, not nearly as upset as I would’ve thought I’d be. I’m already staring down a summer where I’m assuming I’ll have to see this dreaded ex at three meals a day. It will now be easier. It made me wonder, though, about his photos being “un-tagged” so I checked Facebook. He is not only no longer my “friend,” he has “blocked” me. I feel like a 12-year-old even talking about this but Facebook seems to encourage junior high-like behavior. Blocking is a pretty aggressive move and, in this case, was totally unnecessary, as I began “hiding” his posts, so I wouldn’t see any of them, way back in November. I hadn’t looked at his page for months. Again, whatever.

My friends are in agreement that this news — and the ex’s rather douchebaggy behavior — was a gift, a first step down the road toward finally falling out of love with him. I’ve repeatedly tried to be his friend, only to be shown, sadly, how lousy he is at being a friend. This skeezy scenario only reinforces my opinion. It won’t be pretty having to see the guy but at least being able to hold that tableau in my mind any time I think I still have feelings for him will be a big help. Onward!

Random Ramblings

Yes, cheating is all the rage! Ashley Madison has been in the news a lot lately, which was how I wound up joining the site. Last night a “cheating” web site was a subject in the plot of CBS’s “The Good Wife.” If you’re unfamiliar, the protagonist, played by Julianna Margulies, has a philandering husband. In last night’s episode she was defending a client, played by the delicious Sarah Silverman, in a lawsuit holding her responsible for the death of a member of her web site, Side Adventures, a cheating web site based, of course, on Ashley Madison.

Silverman’s character delivered convincing lines about open marriages and jealousy. She also made a great case for the use of a cheating web site. Having just deactivated my profile, I was already experiencing withdrawals. More on that another time.

Also on TV last night, a story about how birth control can ruin your marriage. Research suggests that the pill and other hormonal interventions may be the cause of women’s “loss of interest,” which may lead to divorce. Yeah, that’s right, blame it on women! It’s the hormones, not husbands’ paunch or hairy ears or whatever. Yup. That’s it!

While I can understand the connection between hormones and arousal (read a bit about it here), my personal experience was always pretty positive. Not needing to worry about pregnancy allowed for a sense of freedom that certainly enhanced my “arousal.” The studies about how the pill affects “how sexy a man smells” make sense, too, and are further proof of why online dating is such a crap shoot. (I know, it’s a leap, from contraception to OkCupid, but you get my drift. Right?)

Anyway, everything I’ve been writing about — and thinking about — lately makes me wish I’d majored in Sociology instead of Journalism and become someone who studies human behavior. I find it endlessly fascinating. I suppose it’s never too late to change “careers.” Uh-oh.

Okay, now I’ve got to go find something as least as distracting as clicking on OkCupid and Ashley Madison every five seconds has managed to be…

It’s a Woman’s Prerogative…

…to change her mind. And I’ve changed mine.

I just killed both my online dating profiles. No more Ashley Madison men. TTFN OkCupid. I just couldn’t take it anymore. Days on end of backing and forthing about meeting for coffee or a beer. Paragraph after paragraph with some guy in North Dakota, psychoanalyzing me and sizing up my literary abilities. Yet another email from a guy more than 20 years younger than me who, after a gentle no, sent a few more emails, including “What kind of music r u into?” Sigh. One more email from an old man who I wouldn’t fuck if he were the last penis on the planet. Sadly, this old man was only 44. How is it that people can look so damn old? It’s truly appalling. All my harping about age has been weighing on me. I’m afraid I’m gonna wake up in a week and, overnight, look like I’m 100! It can’t be good karma to keep complaining about this.

I had come to the conclusion that I wasn’t going to meet the man of my dreams online, but had thought I’d keep my profiles active if only to maintain the flow of blog fodder. I just don’t think I can do it anymore. It’s been sapping too much of my energy, which can be better spent elsewhere. I’m not sure yet where elsewhere, but at least I’ll have the energy to think about it!

Mind you, I didn’t delete my profiles; I suspended them. So there’s a chance I’ll return to online dating sites if nothing else inspires. For now, I think I’ll just…think. I leave you, ladies and gentlemen, with my latest collection of cocks:





Caring for the Elderly…

…even when they won’t give up! I’ve made it pretty clear in both my online profiles that I’m not interested in older men. I haven’t dated anyone older since before I got my driver’s license. I’m simply not attracted to older men, now especially, when “older” is practically synonymous with white-haired, paunchy and boring as hell. My warning off of these men doesn’t always work; hope springs eternal where there’s Viagra to help other things spring. I probably shouldn’t even respond to these old men and their cyberpasses but I can’t help myself. I believe it’s polite to reply, doing unto others as I’d have done to me. OR in their cases, not done to me… Here are a few of my recent online encounters with older men:

Subject: and now for something completely different

Dear Jade
The saying goes that a cynic is a frustrated optimist. I guess that fits particularly well here. You say you will be surprised if I can show you something new. But to me every woman is a completely new experience. Kissing is different, often even at different times with the same woman. Making love is certainly different, if you are paying any attention at all. Every woman wants to be touched in different ways and is excited by different things. And is not always in the mood for the same thing. That’s one of the wonderful things about making love. It’s never the same. Of course I can’t guarantee to provide you with that zing we are both seeking. It might be there…. Only one way to find out. Please read my profile and then get in touch and we can see about making you simply an optimist.
Bob”

Hello “Bob,”
Thank you for your kind note. I read your profile and you sound like a lovely man. However, I can’t imagine the two of us together in any way. You are free to google me: EditrixAbby (check Facebook), read my blog (www.editrixabby.wordpress.com) or my web site (www.editrixabby.com). It will be pretty obvious what kind of life I lead. And though you say in your profile that you’re looking to see different places and do different things, I somehow can’t envision you spending three months in the Nevada desert working for Burning Man. It’s getting depressing seeing how many men out there (in here?) are so unhappily married. I’m not sure which is sadder, the 60+ men such as yourself, when one would hope to have found someone to get old with, or the 20-somethings who are already miserable and looking to cheat. It’s all a pretty discouraging situation… I wish you the very best in your search.
Abby

Subject: Thank you for responding
Dear Jade,
Thanks for your kind response. There is so much incredible rudeness in these on-line dating sites. I always respond to anyone who contacts me, even if to try to politely say no thanks. I read some of your blog at EditrixAbby. I found it both hilarious, the way you send up the men, and sad. Here is what tiny wisdom I have. Emphasis on tiny. I left my wife for awhile. It made my kids and family miserable. My kids are the most important thing in the world. Also, my dating experiences on websites for singles were awful. So I went back. Things were better for awhile, but the basic problems remain. I’m often lonely and unhappy and like you, I don’t know what I want. So I look for sex to make me feel better. Is that a good solution? No. Does that make me a good person? No. Have I actually hooked up with any on this site? No. So why do I keep at it? Humans are not totally rational, are we. And the need for connection is strong and sex is one of life’s wonders. Life is not simple. People find themselves in situations that are not easy to leave. There is lots of unhappiness in the world. And they try to find some small pleasure. Yes, many people are self-absorbed jerks. You didn’t need to come here to discover that, but it may be more on display here. This is after all a website for men and women who want to cheat. So why be surprised to find that. You sound like me in that there are things driving you that you don’t understand. I’m sure wise folk would tell both of us that the route to happiness is through self understanding and that you can’t love another if you don’t love yourself.
Best in your search.
Bob”

Subject:  right, friends first, then lovers
Dear Jade,
Wanted to make one more comment. Like you, all my significant relationships came from being friends first and then falling in love. Seems the right way to go about it. Means there is some real basis to the attraction and some hope of it lasting for awhile. So if a real connection is what you are looking for why waste your time on this site? You may have some fun making fun, but you won’t find anything really worth much. Of course you could ask me the same question…. And I would refer you to my previous message.
Best,
Bob”

I’m on thus site for the same reasons I do many things: I’m an experience junkie and everything makes good blog fodder. My relationships have not been friends first. The last three were one night stands that became more. I have, literally, hundreds of friends. I meet new people often and easily. This site is merely another avenue. Though you do seem intelligent and thoughtful, both rarities on here, I don’t think we would ever be friends. Our lives are far too different. I appreciate your candid thoughts and opinions and hope you find happiness.
Abby

Subject: fond farewell
Jade,
Ah, you and I agree on so many things. We agree that we are not likely lovers or even friends. We agree that nice in this context is an insult. And we agree that no means no.
I wrote back to your first clear rejection because you were so polite about it and that is rare in this space so I wanted to acknowledge it and thank you.
And I wrote back because you invited me to view your web presence, which I did. And a few things I read there prompted me to respond, one human to another. You say many contradictory things, much makes you no different than the rest of us. Some of them touched me. You invited me in to that space. I thought it polite to comment. Just to be clear, I was not still trying to convince you how winning I am. Here, clearly, I’m not.
Enjoy,
Bob”

___________________

Very impressive web search
you are hot stuff and
i like it, ooh! ooh! pick me, plz! 

Hey there!
I am older, not younger, no fooling. We marginally match according to statisitcs, but I found no one that I would fit as well as with you. I am the Peter Pan, the mid summer’s night dream, the residdent from New Orleand, Austin and SF. Yes, I did live all over, love to be dressed up, tall and what I would like to do to you that you would enjoy if I catch you. You are getting older, so the body may not be so forgiving, but we could hit the all night and after hours places or just stay home and party. I used to own spots in flea markets, like brunches and nearly everything you do, I like also. I did fly planes and I do go boating, go naked on the beach and so much more.
Can you enjoy a older guy who is sincere and honest, fun and real active and would appreciate you on the inside and out and every contradiction. Lets visit and maybe even live on different continents. Vist Australia or South Pole? Tahitiaand Bora Bora.
Tempted? Now you know how I feel.

Hi,
Yes, I can probably enjoy an older guy. Whether or not I can have sex with you is a whole other story. Attraction and chemistry doesn’t follow logic, unfortunately. Or I suppose no one would be single.
I’d be happy to have lunch or whatever…and see what happens. But please don’t expect anything!
A

I never expect anything and sometimes surprised by what I do get. Sounds different, but the fun is in the play and the exploration of someone, sometimes more than the act of intercourse itself, like the guy cupping your breasts.
I once gave a woman an orgasm by foot massage and it was a first date with all our clothes on. So one never knows.
Btw, I got this after perusing your web and blog sites and after I sent the second message. Oops! Your are extraordinary, not for the sexual antics, but the open and honest adult communication without and inhibitions. I did standup comedy and always had to bite my tongue. Maybe I can get to bite yours.
Meet me with no expectations and no agenda, maybe even go for a bike ride, laugh and be spontaneous. You may decide that I can keep up. OMG, can I be a match?

I think I’m gonna have to say no. I’m sorry. I just can’t deal right now.
Too much unbridled enthusiasm based on my web presence is not a good thing. It is definitely not who I am in person.
Sorry.
A

Sorry, about the exuberance. Was about your writing styles, not about your topics or your web presence. Guess you mis-read, but that is okay as we are not always in a good place all the time. I found the idea that your contradictions were appealing, especially the quiet private time, just two out for a picnic but your capability to dress for a holiday. I am like this all the time, so I wish you luck and if you ever want to just meet for a bite to eat and find out whom I am, that is fine.

___________________

Hello Alla:
You had a very nice profile and I hope we would both enjoy meeting each other. I’m seeking a woman that is cool, laid-back, relaxed yet adventurous. I’m secure, bright and witty, with a sense of humor, so hopefully we will talk and laugh a lot together. It also seems we are both lovers of life, with an edge.
I am a 56 year old Harlemite, a fledgling entrepreneur and socially active. I founded a small charity sending medical equipment to third world countries; I belong to several Chivalric Orders (knighthoods) and I ran some formal balls; yet I managed punk bands in the late 70’s. Even though I’m a cis-male, I am very queer friendly.On the kink side, I am Dom, though I do like a little pain.
I enjoy riding, painting and cooking; in fact few things give me greater pleasure than preparing dinner for someone I care about. I read to distraction and like going to museums (I make a good tour guide). I have been known to sing in public and I often wear kilts, so I hope that won’t scare you off.
Perhaps we can chat soon.
Sincerely yours,
Evan” 

Hello, “Evan,”

Who is Alla? Not me. My name is Abby.
I appreciate your fact-filled email. Unfortunately I’m just not interested. I haven’t had much luck with love on this site and lately haven’t felt motivated to go on any more dates. It’s simply not a “normal” dynamic and not how I interact — and successfully get to know — people. On the kink side, I’m neither a domme or a sub, really, but am really not even kinky. So I’m not up for experiencing OR inflicting any pain…
Wearing kilts would NEVER scare me off, as I’m sure you’re aware if you’ve researched me at all…and certainly if you didn’t think your “kink” wouldn’t scare me off. Hah.
I’m sure you are all those wonderful things you’ve listed and more but I just don’t have the bandwidth anymore…
Best of luck in your search!
Abby 


I mis-typed, so sorry Abby. Thank you for the kindest rejection letter, I have ever received. I thought it delightful.
Sincerely,
Evan” 

And still more from the recipient of my most brutal blow-off email ever:

Date:  Apr 29th – 10:26pm
From:  david9105
Subject:  you
Extremely curious about you and would love to learn more about you and what you are looking for. Your profile says a lot but I suspect there is a lot more. How do I find you?

Date:  Apr 30th – 8:43am
From:  david9105
Subject:  RE: RE: you
Still wondering, but will be patient.

Date:  May 2nd – 6:42pm
From:  david9105
Subject:  you
Shall I give up?

Date:  May 2nd – 11:59pm
From:  Jaded-est
Subject:  RE: you
I don’t know how many more times you’d like me to tell you I’m not interested before you give up. I can continue to reject you if that’s what you enjoy.
A

Date:  May 3rd – 12:06am
From:  david9105
Subject:  RE: RE: you
Sorry I missed it. It would not have worked anyway.I just reread your profile and did not realize certain things about you. 

Date:  May 3rd – 12:40am
From:  Jaded-est
Subject:  RE: RE: RE: you
Like what, that I said I don’t date older guys?
Date:  May 3rd – 12:51am
From:  david9105
Subject:  older men
Didn’t realize that you were so obstinate about younger men. Also didn’t realize tat you were a little taller than I was interested in. 

Date:  May 3rd – 1:17am
From:  Jaded-est
Subject:  RE: older men
Hahahahahahahahah! 

Date:  May 4th – 1:12am
From:  david9105
Subject:  youuuuuuuuu
Glad you have a good sense of humor. We may not be for each other but you can still tell me a few things about yourself. We could always be friends.
Signed, The rejected old man.
 

Date:  May 5th – 11:58pm
From:  david9105

Subject:  youuuuuuuuu
How are you?

Wow. You’ve really gotta hand it to this guy. He just keeps swingin’!









Mother’s Day, Ashley Madison, Dirty Words & Ellie Goulding

While attempting to update my profile on Ashley Madison, I kept getting an error message telling me I can’t use the word “culo.” I spent 10 minutes trying to figure out what the hell the site was talking about and eventually figured out that within the word “ridiculous” is the word “culo.” So I can’t use the word “culo” or “ridiculous.” I can see A FUCKING MILLION HIDEOUS COCKS IN BATHROOM MIRRORS BUT I CAN’T USE THE WORD RIDICULOUS! It is ricockulous! Seriously.

I’ve been told I couldn’t use the word “cock,” either. Yup. You can post photos of them but heaven forbid you should, you know, TYPE the fucking word. I substituted “c*ck” but there’s nothing I can do to un-see those penises. Ashley Madison needs a photo editor.

Saturday Night Live was pretty hilarious tonight. That birthing video. Hah! But this Ellie Goulding? What the hell? With all the talent on, well, America’s Got Talent, American Idol and The Voice, how the hell did this limp little blonde get a record deal? She sucks. Her cover of  “Your Song” was painful. She’s trying to sound like Bjørk and doing a lousy job of it. Ah, what do I know?

My mom is 3,000 miles away. She’s going to dinner with my sister and friends of hers (of my sister’s, not my mom’s) in the Mission. I’ll be spending my Mother’s Day in the Hamptons, celebrating a friend’s birthday (mine, not my sister’s). The birthday girl is sober but I plan on drinking. At least my ex-husband won’t be there. What? You already knew I was a cunt!

Friday’s Cognitive Dissonance

It began at lunch with the last of the married men in my marathon. I was prepared to be underwhelmed, the jaded cynic in me, perhaps. Instead I found myself on the verge of tears more than once, as The Poet posed personal questions. He observed that I was extremely guarded and spent time in pursuit of the “real me.” It was an interesting and emotional conversation.

But back to the dissonance. Here I was having lunch with a lovely man — polite, attractive, successful, engaging — who bragged about his honor student daughter and wonderful wife. But he wasn’t completely perfect. Because if I’d asked him back to my apartment he most likely would’ve agreed in an instant. And instantly become a cheater. Ah, perhaps not so lovely. But I kinda knew the circumstances going in. Which had me puzzling, in between sharing our life stories, whether good people can be bad.

By the time The Poet helped me to my door with an unwieldy package, met by the barking foster dogs, I was in a rush to prepare for my early evening plans. I had less than an hour to get ready, which included changing out of my Garanimals-like afternoon ensemble and into something more suitably punk rock. Once I’d applied heavier eye makeup and shrugged on my motocycle jacket, I dashed out the door to meet my friend Rob and his girlfriend at Joe’s Pub for “DanceNOW [NYC] Presents Alley of the Dolls, This is not a sequel.” The show was a bizarre mélange of performance art and dance, comedy and song, and a poke at show business, all loosely in homage to “Valley of the Dolls.” It had a sassy retro Sixties tang.

When the performance wrapped, we jumped into Rob’s truck and headed to Williamsburg for a chihuahua wedding. You heard right. The “puptials” of Rev. Jen Jr. and Taco took place in the spacious outdoor garden of Lucky Dog bar on Bedford Ave. The proud parents of the bride and groom, Reverend Jen Miller and Holly Waggytail DeRito (yes, the grande dame of the agency I foster dogs for) held the happy couple in their arms and read their dogs’ vows, with Faceboy officiating the ceremony. As one might assume, the festivities were attended by quite a colorful cast of characters, including photographer Alex Colby and his pretty Penthouse Managing Editor wife Christine, comic artist and dessert blogger Abby Denson, Carmen Mofongo, my Balloon Chain co-worker and Lucky Dog bartender Moonshine Shorey, and armloads of adorable dogs. Moonshine had the night off because he was on his way to his gig with Jugger Nut at C Squat. Which was where Rob, his girlfriend and I were headed next!

Approaching the block we knew immediately where the show was; the shitfaced  dirtbag lying on the sidewalk, slurring obscenities, made it a giveaway. I slid in the door and stood aside. Everyone was in an agitated state about the sidewalk scene. A droopy-eyed, stringy-haired hippy was telling the dreadlocked dude running the door, “I don’t know the guy, man. I mean, he’s not a friend of mine. I picked him up in Asheville but I gotta watch his back. He’s my homeboy.” Meanwhile, the guy is still rolling around on the sidewalk with everyone screaming at him to get up, get out, move on.

I paid my five bucks, got my hand Sharpied and waited for Rob and his girlfriend. They slipped in and handed me a 24-ounce PBR. Cracking up, I crowed, “I just became the hottest old broad in the building!” A guy nodded in agreement and said, “Yeah, you did!” We made our way toward the noise, stepping over half-passed out gutterpunks and straggly hangers-on. A small balcony overlooked a basement with walls covered in graffiti. Our timing was perfect; kids were shoving equipment around the stage in anticipation of Jugger Nut.

The room was like a scene from a movie: Sweaty kids were milling around, an old man was perched on a chair, hipsters were photographing each other with the cell phones. It was an impressive collection of nightcrawlers. And because I never go anywhere without running into someone I know, I bumped into Nicola.

Before I’d had a chance to finish my 24-ounce, the band came onstage in a cacophony of keyboards, drums, guitars and feedback. After a bit of ear abuse, the music was actually quite good! People were nodding and dancing or ducking for cover. My friend Moonshine isn’t a musician, he’s an adjunct to the band, a six-foot-plus performance artist of sorts, his painted face and voodoo accoutrements augmented by blood and chicken feet. He stalked into the pit and the parted.

I’m not sure I could ever find the right words to properly describe the scene and how it actually felt. It was like being in a time warp. Like being beamed back to the 80s. The floor was slimy with beer and a bedraggled chick in nothing but boots and a silver sequin miniskirt kept slipping in it. The crowd thrashed in the pit, slamming into each other just like the old days. The whole place smelled like sweat and cigarette smoke and beer. It was fuckin’ awesome!

The show lasted just the right amount of time and as the room cleared I couldn’t contain my excitement. “The underground lives!” I kept saying with a huge smile on my face. I couldn’t believe it! I was so invigorated I couldn’t just go home and go to sleep, so I strolled through Tompkins Square Park to Double Down. It was packed with too many irritating people but I wound up at the far end of the bar chatting with an interesting couple. He was in a heavy metal t-shirt and she looked like she maybe watched too much “Jersey Shore.” But we commiserated about the East Village asshole invasion and, astonishingly, Burning Man! He was leaving the next day for India. Sometimes life is full of surprises!

Anyway, I stumbled to the deli for a turkey sandwich which I didn’t remember eating the next morning as I marveled over my day of dissonance: the enjoyable Poet, dance show at Joe’s Pub, the chihuahua wedding, the C Squat Jugger Nut slamfest and the pleasant company over my nightcap at Double Down. It was an amazing dozen hours!

Conclusions…and How They Are Met

After a series of events, I’ve come to a few conclusions:

1. I’m not going to fall in love with anyone I meet online. It just isn’t going to happen. Looking back on all the relationships I’ve had — or even the one-night stands — each one depended quite heavily on an in-person attraction that simply cannot be replicated through the ether. As I’ve said before, none of my boyfriends would’ve appealed to me “on paper.” I needed to be in close proximity to them and that closeness led to romance. Had a dear friend fixed me up with any of these men, I would’ve rejected them,  even if only subconsciously, right off the bat. They wouldn’t have stood a chance. It was the moment-to-moment getting to know them that resulted in love. Or, in the case of my ex-husband, the moment-to-moment tête-à-tête that led to sex which, in turn, eventually resulted in love. All I can think about when I’m with these men — married or single, attractive or quirky, spectacular or less so — even while in the midst of making out with them, is “Can I fuck this person?” And unfortunately, inevitably, just the mere self-conscious self-asking question is immediately answered with a “No.” I can’t say why. But there you have it.

2. Men will take even a resounding NO as a yes. They never give up hope. This doesn’t require much more elaboration. I will add, however, that an offering of friendship, which from the offering end means, you know, the possibility of “friendship,” is translated on the male receiving end as “There’s a glimmer of hope for sex!” Un-uh. It means I find you interesting or entertaining or otherwise possessing desirable qualities that I want in a “friend.” End of story.

3. The internet offers an odd combination of anonymity and intimacy that allows us to say the most outrageous things to complete strangers! In what situation would you tell someone whose name you don’t know, whose face you’ve never seen, that you want to “fuck them til their eyeballs shake”? And in what social arena would this actually be a turn-on, coming from someone who you’ve never even seen a photo of? Is this courtship? Cause it sure as shit doesn’t feel like courtship to me. Sorry if that sounds prudish or provincial. But, well, what the motherfuck? I mean, really.

Below are a few rounds of communiqués that helped me come to these conclusions. My conversations with the poet, both in person and online, have also assisted me in realizing what I really want: to meet someone, in person, NOT online, and fall in love. There, I’ve said it.

So should I delete my profiles from the dating sites? I’m reluctant to do so only because they’ve resulted in a few great friendships, both male and female, the latter being introductions through the males I met online. It’s a big world out there. I seem to know half of it. I’m holding out hope that, even though I may not fall in love with anyone I meet online, they may introduce me to the person with whom I will feel that passionate connection. I soldier on, a cynical optimist…

Hi Jaded-est, 
I’m so sure you have the six pack hunks all over you, but I just wanted to let you know that I really enjoyed your profile explainations that you wrote! I kinda smirked and giggled a little because I could only imagine the pics that you have gotten! 
Listen, you seem to be a beautiful woman inside and out. I’m kind of a biker dude by night, engineer by day, so I’m not going to try to dazzle you with BS to try to impress you. I’d love to chat with you sometime just because your nature interests me and your pic caught my attention. But I’m certainly not the younger that your lookinng for nor do I have the six pack abs. But I can carry on a conversation in just about any mode.
Have a great week. even if I don’t hear from you, I am glad to have done this to contact you. Beautiful people in my circle is a very important thing for me. Hugs!
“Phil”

Thank you for your lovely, email, “Phil.”
May I ask if you’re really 50? Only because everyone on here lies…as I have. I’m 51, actually, and am about to turn 52.
This site is odd…I’m not quite sure what I’m looking for here…if what I find is an affair, as in an encounter with someone who is married (I’m not, don’t know if you noticed), it would have to be with someone UBER attractive to me. UBER. Ya know? Someone older wouldn’t work. Why bother? Someone too much younger? No thank you. I have a lot of “must haves” when it comes to jumping into bed with a virtual stranger. And I’m not sure that would ever even happen. But even to CONSIDER it…
So if you were single, I might consider meeting you to see if there’s any chemistry or to be, at the very least, friends. But really, be serious. You’re married, you aren’t down the street from me…I would bet your life doesn’t have much room for friendships with women you meet online, most especially THIS site. If we became friends, what would you tell your wife? Perhaps you are single, as some of the men I’ve met here are, even though they say they’re “attached.” It’s all so complicated.
Basically, I’ve come to the conclusion that a romantic, sexual relationship that begins online is more the stuff of TV commercials than reality. At least for me. I have two friends who are marrying people they met online. I can’t see it ever happening for me. Even sex with someone I meet online. After a few months of this crazy 21-st century dance, that’s where I’ve wound up.
So the fact that you’re able to carry on a conversation isn’t that appealing. I would hope that anyone I meet, ever, anywhere, would be capable of carrying on a conversation. Please forgive me for wanting more!
Again, thank you for writing. It isn’t easy putting yourself out there, so I appreciate the attention. Anything more, though, would just not make sense for me.
Best of luck to you!
A

Hi Jaded,
Well, I appreciate your honesty and it is the reason I contacted you in the first place. Well, I guess I’m not into games either. Yes, I am 50, gonna turn 51 this summer and yes, I am married, but in the middle of becoming single again. I’m here because I lack the closeness and passion that most people enjoy, but like you, I’m not into games and BS. So look hon, I understand you completely and if it doesn’t work for you it doesn’t work. I really wasn’t expecting even a reply from you, but since you did, my first impression was pretty much dead on. You’re a real person and I’m glad I tried to meet you. It is not upsetting that I’m not for you. But I will leave the possibility of being at least an online friend open.
So thank you for replying. You seem like a real nice person and can rest assured that this was not a drama driven or false contact. I don’t have the time to play games. I just want ot meet interesting people and bring them into my circle. I’m not just divorcing my wife, I am divorcing my life and it is a very humbling but exciting time for me.
Happy Wednesday! Good luck to you as well!

________________________

Subject:  Wow!
Nice pictures. You are an exotic princess! I am a fun-loving, gentle guy living and working in midtown during the week. I seek a friend to help me explore the city. Dinner and dancing a must! I hope you write back. 

Well, unfortunately it matters a LOT what you look like. Especially if you find me “an exotic princess” based solely on my photos. I mean, I’m flattered. But it’s so superficial.
I am certainly game for making new friends and can most definitely provide companionship for city exploration. The chances of sex, or anything physical, are probably about zero…even regardless of what you look like. That’s the conclusion I’ve come to after far too many months of online dating.
So, if you’re up for joining me on my adventures, or creating some new ones, with someone who will ONLY be a friend, sure. Though if you look like Santa, Methuselah, a troll or are otherwise visually objectionable, that won’t work…
Sorry to be so blunt. The internet offers an odd combination of anonymity and intimacy that allows us to say the most outrageous things to complete strangers!
Abby

____________________

Subject:  ho hum
Hi. .my name is Dwayne Goldstein. I’m a former priest turned orthodox jew who used to do amateur porn. My mother is balck and my father swedish. I do not own a mirror and I keep a small apt in warsaw. Normally when I go nude sunbathing I do it at the hotel pool, that I own. Different enough for you? Or have you done that too? I would think someone who’s “got it like that” that this site would have been your first destination. Everything is passe. You can message me back, if that’s trendy enough for you

Subject:  RE: ho hum
Um, okay….I’ll bite. Not sure how sarcastic you’re being but I’ll go with honesty… If your parents were black and Swedish, how is it you’re “caucasian?” Is any of that email true? Are you really single? Your turn. Oh, and how about a photo? Wondering why you wouldn’t post one if you are, in fact, single.
A

Subject:  RE: RE: ho hum
No none of that e mail is true. Except for the fact I’m single. I don’t have a pic on here in that I’m a mobile dj who does weddings and I can’t have my reputation tarnished. I can tell you where to see it if you like. As much as I love nyc I think maybe someone read in the Sunday times magazine that it was trendy to be blase about life. Just the same way they told everyone cupcakes and food trucks were invented in 2009. My pic is on my website [deleted]. Try it, if ur pilates instructor says its ok.

Subject:  RE: RE: RE: ho hum
Hah! Well, you are certainly sarcastic! Hah about the food trucks and cupcakes being invented in 2009. So ARE you single? Or married? Either way, how often do you actually get into NYC? Sorry, I’m a bit confused here…

Subject:  RE: RE: RE: RE: ho hum
I know. I know. The guy from ny1’s in the papers segment didn t tell you what to think next, so its understandable you’re confused. I am single. I am single. Use it as a mantra till you believe it. And I’m sarcastic. Anything else?

Subject:  RE: RE: RE: RE: ho hum
I come there about four times a yr to visit there since its my favorite spot in the world. And if I had more of a reason, as in fucking you so hard ur eyeballs shake, id be there more often. U r about three hours northeast of me.

Um, yeah. Well, MEETING me would have to happen LONG before you fuck me until my eyeballs roll.
Wow, thanks for the romance. Jesus what is this world coming to? Is that supposed to make me WANT to meet you? A quick clue: It doesn’t.
If you only get to where I happen to live three or four times a year, when, exactly, did you think we’d get together and actually get to know each other?
Holy shit. What am I doing on these fucking online dating sites? Oh, I know! WASTING MY TIME!