The Dating Diaries: My First Stalker

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In today’s episode of The Dating Diaries, we explore the exciting world of mentally imbalanced and emotionally unstable individuals. Yippee!

There are a few truths that need to be put forth.

1. “Stalker” is probably too strong a word for what I’m about to describe, but it got you reading, so mission accomplished.
2. That being said, I was nervous enough about the situation to consider getting a gun, an updated alarm entry system or at least a more aggressive cat.
3. My stalker wasn’t a guy. It was a woman.

    Oh, BOOM on that last one. Didn’t see it coming did you?

    It’s true. While I have yet to rate my first male stalker (I’m biding my time—it’s coming), about three months into the dating scene I did have my very own female stalker.

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    The Dating Diaries: Gum Guy

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    When people ask me about my worst date (And they always want to hear about the bad ones. No one wants to hear, “We went to dinner and had a really nice time.”), “Gum Guy,” or GG as I call him, always comes to mind.

    We met online and he sent a couple of snarky texts that made me laugh. But alarm bells must have gone off somewhere because when he suggested we meet for dinner, I downgraded it to meeting for a drink.

    We met at one of my favorite upscale bar/restaurants. I arrived first. GG texted he was running late—uh, leave your house on time, buddy—so I went ahead and ordered my drink. Belvedere vodka martini, extra dry, three olives.

    When he arrived, I kinda sorta recognized him from his photo. Recognized in the way you can see glimpses in the paunchy man standing in front of you at your 20th class reunion of the boy who sat next to you in science lab in junior high school. Not a recent photo then. Okay.

    He swaggered (and yes, that is the correct word), into the bar...

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    Name Your Word for 2016

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    I met a friend for drinks last night and the conversation turned (as it is apt to when women and wine are involved) to where we are in life, where we’ve been and where we aim to go.

    My friend mentioned a trend that had gone around Facebook where you were asked to choose a word that would define you for the New Year—the idea being to select a word that you can use as a touch point or beacon to guide future acts and decisions.

    I went home and thought about what my word might be. A few months ago I asked a number of friends and colleagues to use one word to describe me and the word that came up over and over again was “driven.” I like driven. It speaks to who I am. However, it doesn’t resonate with me as a word I want to use to guide my actions.

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    What’s That Pounding In My Head?

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    How did I let it come to this?

    For years, I’ve eschewed caffeine. I don’t drink soda and while I can down a big gulp of coffee a day, I’ve always kept it decaf. (I just like the warmth and taste.)

    But last year our office got a fancy-schmancy new coffee maker that only serves leaded and so, cup-by-cup, I allowed myself to be drawn into the underworld of caffeine. When you layer in the fact that my gym serves free coffee in the morning (It’s free! At the gym!), suddenly I’m up to 4-5 cups a day.

    I took PTO yesterday and had a pounding headache all day. Was I sick? Dealing with a lack of sleep? Had I inadvertently watched a Trump ad? No, none of the above. I’d just been home, alone, without the java. (Side note: Everything Trump does gives me a pounding headache. Everything.)

    So I’ve recommitted. I’ll keep my morning coffee, just because I like hanging out with my crew of retirees in the mornings. But during the day, it’s decaf only. That means Keurig and/or instant decaf coffee for me. Or else a whole lotta money for the nearest Starbucks.

    Forgive me if I’m cranky the rest of the week. It’ll pass.

    Cheers,

    Dena