Twelve Months of Separation

And so it is. 

Today marks one year since my wife and I separated. Twelve months, three hundred and sixty five days. 

That's a lot of time to contemplate and heal. 

I've lost a lot in the past year 

(a wife, shitloads of money, my cat Sebastian...)

But I've also gained a new perspective on life. I now have the ability to appreciate the little things, the day by day things. 

I've shed my share of tears, and at times when discussing or thinking about my past relationship, I have to catch my breath and bite my cheek in attempt not to shed more.

I miss her daily. But more for the little things now. Those things I fell in love with that made all the bad things happening toward the end seem worth the pain. But sadly, a relationship isn't made up of just little things. Somewhere she lost respect, unconditional love, and patience with me. I could blame it on the depression or her being bipolar, but in the end it doesn't really matter. I lost my wife, the person I fell in love with. All I can hope in the future is that , perhaps, she will feel that I was the one she let get away. 

Selfish, I know. That's what I get for being a romantic, and watching the movie Love Actually once a year. (I blame my upbringing without a father figure until I got older). 

I definitely have baggage. And although my suitcase is a little worn and torn, the contents are intact. Thanks to my last journey I now know how to pack. So the next time I take a trip down the road of love, the baggage will contain enough content for vacation, business and emergency. And perhaps a bottle of Clamato. I so miss drinking Caesars. 

I honestly don't know what I want at the moment. Love, sex, more money, sex on top of a bed of money... But I'm okay with not having any of those things. I have great friends in two countries, family I've never felt closer to, a stress free job, and residence in what I believe is a little bit of paradise. 

Of all the wonderful words of support and advice I received from friends and total strangers, one stood out from the rest, because it sums up my emotional state and optimistic outlook, and I'm hoping my journey leads to a comparable, wonderful, life that this person now lives:

"I thought my life was over in terms of finding love again. I had heard divorced men talk of finding love again, and it always came across like they were fooling themselves, that they had settled for a moderated form of happiness that they would think back on ruefully at their death bed.

But I had an irrational faith in myself (thank god!) and my gifts and had this feeling that I'd find love again. I didn't know how, but I did know it would involve NOT SETTLING EVER.

Since the divorce, I've dated several women, making mistakes with all of them, being a douche and receiving douchiness. But even at the time, I knew it was all preparation and training for THE ONE who would come (if I was lucky enough to be available when we would meet). You know how before you were a black belt, a part of you was wondering how different would it be from your purple belt? (Yes, this is a stupid analogy, but bear with me.) But once you got it, all that hard work and dedication to ONE VISION suddenly coalesced into a strong sense of who you had become.

I've found relationships with women to be that way. I kept dating, dating, while working on myself and putting one thing ahead of everything else: my own happiness, for that is the only thing under my own control.

Then, one day five years ago, my best friend introduced me to (*****). The rest is history. Not guaranteeing it will last, since there are no guarantees, but we're both pretty confident that it will. It took patience and work and dedication to our vision, but we've never been happier. And this is true when I say this is way better than I had ever envisioned for myself. I've done nothing to deserve it, yet here it is: happiness.

You have so many gifts and so many options and so many people who love you. You know all this. I'm sure of it. But from what I recall, there will be several nights when sadness and regret will come raining down on you like a sack of bricks and you'll cry like a baby. Many nights. And it's necessary.

You're going to thank your lucky stars for all of this suffering many years from now.

And, if the case is that you and ****** are, indeed, working this all out to keep trying, well, fuck me."

I am the King of my Destiny. 

And so it is.

Jimmy

You've Got Mail - The Toils of Online Dating

Let's face it. I'm not getting back together with my ex, it's been over seven months since our separation. It's time to jump back into the dating scene.

That's right ladies, I'm all yours!

  



Once the ladies have rinsed their mouths after throwing up a little, let's continue.

WARNING: Contents WILL be unsuitable for some readers.

As I was saying, I'm jumping - perhaps jumping is an overstatement. I'm prowling like a ninja back into the dating scene. (Ninjas are cool).

Now for those of you that know me, or even those people that don't, you probably have assessed that my humor and mysterious charisma are not for every woman (I'm no Tom Hanks, but you're probably no Meg Ryan). I'm certainly not socially inept, but most women, at first meeting, have trouble figuring me out. I'm a little in 'your' face. A line crosser if you will.  On the second or third meeting they tend to start getting me, or at least learn how to put up with me. 

The problem is the women I click with here in this sunburnt country are either dating someone, married, or we've crossed the threshold into friendship. Sex (yes I jumped right to sex) with any of these three groups is wrong. 

I couldn't handle the guilt of messing with someone's relationship. It might be fun for a night, our hearts might go thump thump when we're around each other, but my guilt, and I hope their's, would quickly set in.   

The third group, "Just Friends", has possibilities. But, you have to wonder why you didn't get together initially, and it would totally mess up the friendship dynamic.

Most males right now are saying "Idiot, who cares, just get some!" (but said in more of a crude manner). The females are most likely saying "Awww, isn't that sweet, he's a gentleman". (I will never figure out the mind of a woman, so this is only a guess - beautiful, intelligent, complicated creatures you are)

Believe me, part of my being (the part below the belt, that hangs above the knees) would love to do the 'Wham Bam Thank You Mam' with all three of those categories, but somewhere in my upbringing (I blame growing up in an all female, aside from myself, household).

I have been conditioned as a gentleman. Even though the words that come out of my mouth may be perverse and crude at times, a gentleman I'll stay.

To sum up my personality: 
Weird perverse guy with a good heart. 

Any takers yet?

No, then let's move on shall we.  

The JUICY Bits

I've enlisted myself in a couple online dating sites here in Australia. One I pay for, the other free. But the people on the latter are a little 'fishy' (some of you will get this reference).

Here's how the pay site works. Men and women can send Kisses (prewritten text like "I think you're hot, wanna chat" Reply: "Go fuck yourself you smelly whorebag" - that one doesn't actually exist, but it would certainly amp up the site). If the other person is open to chatting one of them can send an email which has to be paid for (around $15 per email). And let's face it, most women aren't going to be the ones paying to send the email.

- Although one lady did send me an email. But judging from the photos of her (laptop camera pics of her in various crazy poses - one was her dressed up as a cat, another had her hair sprayed straight up) and the email she sent, she might have been 'special'. Her account was disabled a couple days later.  I can only assume her caregiver found out about her love connections. - 

I get about three to five Kisses a day, and according to my roommate, that's very good for a male. The problem is many of them are well above my age range. Good on them though.

I have been out on a couple dates thus far:

Date #1

My first date was on the morning of my birthday. I met up for coffee with a lady in her late 30's (or so her profile said). I initiated contacted because her profile made her seem down to earth, cool, and her photos were very vivacious (a more attractive Reese Witherspoon with a smokin' body). She has two children, which I must admit scared me a little; although I was pretty sure she wasn't going to bring them on a first date.

We both agreed to meet at a beach side coffee shop on our bicycles at 9am. I arrived early to secure a seat. At about 9:05am I look up and saw a cute blond pedaling her pink cruiser toward the shop. I played it cool, and pretended I didn't see her immediately. 

After I purchased us coffees I sat down to what would be an hour of her talking about herself. Only interrupted by her saying "Oh, this conversation has been all about me, we should talk about you" and then she would continue her description of the last movie role she was in, the sadomasochistic Saudi friend who meets women at the casino, takes them into underground parking, and performs a range of S&M-esque acts on them with tools he keeps in his trunk (that's the boot for my Aussie readers, and for my Catholic readers: S&M is similar to what they used to do in the middle ages with prisoners:

Yikes! 

She also talked about her children who seemed sweet, but perhaps needed a few more rules. But who am I to say, I don't have children. I'd probably use techniques on them I learned watching the Dog Whisperer. 

Another, more superficial, let down was that her face did not match her dating site photos. Sure, she was the same person, but looked A LOT older. Her face was caked with coverup which didn't do a very good job of hiding her age. Which I'm assuming was the mid to late 40's. Now, that's not old, but too old for me right now.

The date ended around 10:15. We decided to cycle back in the same direction, since we only lived a few blocks apart. I stopped by her place for a few minutes, and through our conversation mentioned that it was my birthday that day. I said I didn't want to bring it up earlier because I didn't want to make the date weird, or make her feel obligated.

About ten minutes after arriving home I received a text from her. It said "Happy birthday ;-) xo" and included this photo:

I've only added this photo because it doesn't identify her. That is, unless you can recognize her butt. 

She has been in movies, so you just might.

I've decided not to go on a second date with her. Although the photo tempts me daily.

Date #2

I'm attracted to women who are more intelligent than myself, that can keep me on my toes intellectually. I'm far from a genius, but I'm above hour long discussions about "how pissed they got last night".

I arranged to go on a date with a 28 year old who is currently working on her Masters in Criminology. She minored in Psych and works part time counseling felons on the verge of being locked away. It wasn't just the possibility of free counseling that prompted me to ask her out, it was her quick, dry wit, a razor edge sarcasm that cut me to the chase.

We met up for drinks and tapas at a funky restaurant near the area she lives. When she arrived we took a seat at the bar, ordered a bottle of wine (she chose Pinot Grigio - good start) and some amazing holoumi (we were both fans of cheese and the magical holoumi - that was definitely a good start). 

And it went downhill from there.

We didn't so much as converse, as much as it was a debate. It was me defending myself all night from her ridiculous assumptions and her razor tongue. She proceeded to tell me she didn't have any friends and hardly ever went out "...because most people are assholes". After realizing her approach, and comforting myself with the assumption she was just masking insecurities (which I later told her) I followed up her statement of "Most people think I'm a bitch" with "Are you?". She admitted she most likely was.

At one point after she was getting heated at me after I said I didn't care about the bartender's opinion of me (this was after she said "the bartender thinks you're a tool") "You don't care what a bartender thinks?...you're too good for him?...I used to be a bartender..." I calmly looked up at her and said "If you are too upset to continue with this date, I'm happy to pay and drive you home" (at this point I was having fun, it felt like I was in a movie). She looked at me with the 'that's just crazy talk' eyes and said she was having a good time.

The night ended, I gave her a ride home, and quickly drove away. Although I was kind of aroused by her intensity, I was much more scared of the dominatrix garb she would have dawned after I entered her apartment. I should get Date #1 to introduce Date #2 to the Saudi guy.

I don't believe in the baseball analogy, 'three strikes you're out, but at this point I kind of just want to head to the dugout and forgo my next turn at bat. 

  

Although, there is another, potentially, lovely lady who is now a Facebook friend. She has a great sense of humour, is sexy, and seems quite intelligent.
      But our conversation kind of fizzled. 
Probably because she realized I was more than ten years older than her. 

At what point do either of you Unfriend each other anyway?

I think the reason many older people have 'troubles' on the dating scene is they're too damn comfortable with themselves. Most people in their late teens to early thirties still try to mask who they are on dates, trying to impress the other. I could give a crap. Not that I go into it without a  thought of romance, or never try to act suave. I still have insecurities, I just don't mask them. 

Examples:

Date #1 is superficial and can't release the vanity that used to work so well in her youth.

Date #2 is a bitch. She may still be young, but at least she knows what she is.

Me: (as stated earlier) Weird, perverse guy with a good heart.

I may not be having the best luck with the ladies right now. But, patience will hopefully pay off (like a ninja). I scored a Home Run once, and I'm going for a Grand Slam this time (I've included links to these baseball references for my Aussie readers). 

"Tis better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all" 

                                                                   - Screw you Alfred Lord Tennyson!

Love,

Jimmy

On a side note: 

I've recently launched a website for an eBook I'm writing: www.acanadiansguide.com

  

If you've ever been to, or lived on the Gold Coast, Australia, fill out the survey and you might win an eReader and a copy of my upcoming book A Canadian's Guide to the Gold Coast. 

Or if you want to visit there as a tourist, it will be filled with humorous tips, helpful links, and local deals. 

You can also follow on Facebook, or Twitter @CanadiansGuide

Moving On - Paying it Forward

As most of my regular readers know I've recently separated from my wife and am now in a foreign country trying to find purpose. I've received many a word of advice and encouragement.  Since it's International Pay It Forward Day, I thought I would share some wisdom I've received via email, Facebook, texts...with those of you jumping, or tripping over, your own relationship hurdles.   

Here are a few (but definitely not all) that have helped my journey forward:

I'll finish off with a quote I posted on Facebook a couple weeks back that puts some of my perceived shortcomings into perspective: 

 Stay Classy,

Jimmy

My Perspective on Perception

per·cep·tion/pərˈsepSHən/

Noun:

The ability to see, hear, or become aware of something through the senses. The state of being or process of becoming aware of something in such a way

Isn't it interesting how we perceive external stimuli differently depending on the mood or the current state of life we're in?

Take for example: Oh let's say, Subject A moves to a foreign country with his wife, only to have his marriage and life fall to pieces around him.

Okay you guessed it. I'm Subject A (Feeling more like Subject F at the moment). 

 The point is, everything I do and almost every piece of stimuli seems to take on a new, deeper, meaning.  The surfing lesson I wrote about the other day could easily become a metaphor for love and marriage. In fact, I spent an hour yesterday writing about their similarities. I've decided not to share it, because frankly, it came off a little cheeseball. but here are a couple highlights:

...I had no clue how to get up on the board. I lay on it shaking from side to side, the deep, churning water threatening to pull me under. But I knew the reward far outweighed the fear and risk... 

...But, no longer able to keep balance, I plummeted head first into the murky waters. Struggling to reach the surface, I knew, I hoped, was there...

 

...In my heart I wanted so bad to go back for the board. But looking at it from a distance I realized the board was not meant for these seas. Cracked and warped, it would never glide across the waves the same again...

-  See what I mean. CHEESEBALL. 

But in writing that 'fromage' I started to gain some perspective, and a control, over my perception. 

Instead of looking at everything as a sad sign of 'love lost'. I am going to look at everything as a sign of 'life gained'. 

Here's a great poem I saw on the cafe I was sitting in yesterday. I think I'll follow its advice:

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant; they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. 

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be critical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be careful. Strive to be happy.

© Max Ehrmann 1927

  

Be Good To Yourself,

Jimmy