Musings, Personal

Online Dating, and that Dang Messaging.

Speaking of sentimental notes… for those who have stopped onto my OkCupid profile:

My two cents on the writing back and forth thing: Trust issues.

I am speaking on a hetero-normative position, but if you have experiences that are different, please feel free to add in the comments. I’m interested in your thoughts.

Girls need to know if a guy can appear trustworthy enough to meet. We get messages every day with, ” ‘Sup baby.” or “Hi, my name is _____. I have these credentials… etc.” Girls generally want to get through an emotional barrier via writing. Which, understandably, isn’t the most reliable or dependable, since a lot of guys don’t like writing -especially, about themselves. I say this, only because about a third of the profiles I go through say something about a guy who  hates writing about themselves and demand a person to message them for more information, which later follows with, “I hate texting.”

All of this, I can empathize with, but I think the most enjoyable dialogues I’ve had are with those who write and speak well. Those who don’t, often fall short in conversation. Frankly, I need to be able to know that I can communicate with you if I’m going to pursue any sort of romantic endeavor. I need to know that the first date isn’t going to be a series of grunts and butt-scratching.

The calling on the phone option is kind of useful, but I think without the option of a throw-away number, (ladies, get a GoogleTalk account), it can be a bit difficult to navigate communication between people. For good reason too, online dating still is a tad scary. Stalkers are a THING. Privacy and discretion is always advised.

If a guy doesn’t realize that all of those texts/messages in their inbox back and forth are the most important things in their dating arsenal for finding clues and cues, you probably need to consult your actual gal pals for a debriefing on one of your OkC messages.

Sometimes, a girl will stop messaging, and things fizzle out. I get it, guys do it too. It’s normal for human beings to lose interest. Don’t get butthurt, move on. If you’re amassing 20 messages in your inbox, 10 each per person… which are longer than a single line, chances are, you’re doing pretty good. OR you’re having a heated, one-off debate about who is the bigger asshole. (Don’t waste your time on these) But if you expect a girl to just give you a number right away, see above, you’re going to look like a creeper/stalker/overtly pushy guy. Women like myself enjoy a bit of subtlety and plenty of independence. Being pushy is a turn-off. So wait for a girl to send you a series of ten messages and then see if she’ll go out with you. Chances are, if she  hasn’t told you, “I’m not interested,” or, hasn’t ignored you for over 3 days, you’re still in the running. Shit happens, people get busy. But if they like you, they’re going to let you know they want to talk to you, and want to continue talking to you. Have patience, or stop waiting forever for something that has fallen flat.

Good luck!


The Long List

I want a man that can cook up a meal that has me swooning over the flavors, and can do that on the daily.

I want a man that will clean up after his cooking mess.

I want a man who is passionate about being kind, but won’t be a pushover.

I want a man I can make smile, grin, and laugh, anytime.

I want a man who’ll take me seriously, but know when I’m not being serious.

I want a man I can cuddle, who makes me want to trace the outlines of his shoulder blades, the sculpted, maybe sometimes slightly scarred parts of his body.

I want a man who reads things that are enriching, that are funny, that say something powerful about who he is.

I want a man who honors the relationships to his family, his friends… and most importantly, himself.

I want a man I can gush about.

I want a man that I can fit perfectly into as the little spoon… and sometimes, we’ll switch because he wants me to scratch his back or his scalp.

I want a man that can goof off, and sing… and doesn’t mind dancing his own dance.

I want a man who isn’t afraid of his own sexuality.

I want a man who is honest, and protects what is good, but knows how to let loose.

I want a man I can learn with, that doesn’t mind those moments when I get passionate about something, because he sees the value in our greatest potential and ways that we can grow.

I want a man that speaks his mind, that feels safe to talk to me.

I want a man who likes art, and in particular… enjoys the kind of music that I do.

I want a man that has his own interests, that are different from mine, but can be complementary.

I want a man who can take care of himself, who is stable -financially and emotionally.

I want a man who likes me for me, which also means, that I will like him for him.

I want a man that’s stylish, but not obsessed with fashion.




So I feel like baring my soul to someone, without needing too many words

I want to invite the demons out into the open

Dancing that dance without touching each other

Find ourselves moving too fast and then tripping over a foot

An injury, a moment to recover, a series of lamentations over

Lack of mindfulness


I want to invite the demons out into the open

They wouldn’t care if I cried

They wouldn’t mind if I drank too much

They wouldn’t dare to tell me not to dare

And all of that, expelled from my being

Dancing that dance without touching each other

Slipping through cracks

And falling towards another

As gravity demands


Finding ourselves moving too fast and then tripping over a foot

The rabbit that had a limb

Cut for luck


An injury, a moment to recover, a series of lamentations over

Our diminished insights


Lack of mindfulness.


Dance Memory

One time, on the dance floor, I had encountered dancing with a man that I had previously seen a few times, hair as white as snow… skin, olive, and youthful.

I remember thinking how attractive he was, dancing amongst others with grace, flowing and doing Contact Improvisation with others. I could tell he took good care of himself, because I was unsure of his age, most likely older than I was, but by how much was completely unknown.

I had invited someone that I had met on OkCupid that day. -And we had fun, laughing and having a few chuckles dancing with each other. I could tell that this new friend was familiar with Ecstatic Dance, and was at that moment interested in my little date.

-However, on this day, I had decided to sit on the floor, and unbeknownst to me, a stranger had come up behind me, rubbing my shoulders. So strong, and so sure, and in that moment, I was completely trusting. I surrendered to the moment… and realized a dance had been initiated. Contact, was being made. -We rolled, and we sat, not facing each other, but trusting the process, flowing… -And then I realized it was the really attractive man with the olive skin and snow white hair.

Then I became alarmed… The dance had intensified… almost violent in our rolling around, too intense, I was scared at the pace of the rolling around, the weight of our bodies hitting the wood dance floor, the way we held our faces, so close. It was so charged, the way we were holding each other, passionate and forceful… and then finally, I broke loose.

The music had turned to something else… I stopped, bowed, holding my hands in prayer position close to my heart, and looked at him smiling with fear and awe in my eyes.

I kept thinking… Damn.

And I even wanted to say thank you during the closing circle… I remembered his name was Michael. -But before I even got a chance to run up to him to say thanks after the circle had broken out… Poof, he was gone, and I had my little date to go on.



There are so many things to think about right now as I am in a state of limbo, not knowing whether I will move to San Diego, CA or somewhere near the greater Atlanta area. Stay in the West Coast, or travel out East?

Suffice it to say it’s been an interesting go of making connections in Atlanta because I thought I was moving there… at least 80% sure about 2 weeks ago. Now, because of escrow issues, not so sure. I have had so many interesting conversations with intelligent and well-spoken people in Atlanta that I have found myself grinning at the prospect of having more conversations in the flesh over a good beverage. Now, I am a bit sad, considering that I might not even meet these people that I have worked on developing some sort of online rapport with for the past 2-3 months. Though, considering the legwork I’ve done, I might have connections made that can catapult me into some good places should I decide to move out East completely on my own.

I still need my own space. I want my own space so I can more fully engage and invite the people I want in my life.

I am so bummed with already saying goodbye to a good lot of people here in and around Los Angeles, making connections with new people in Atlanta… but then, not even meeting these ‘new’ people, only to go back and think that I may move to San Diego.

I have a feeling that my romantic life… or whatever has become of it, will suffer as well. :/ Bah.


Dad, Shut up, or Else.

Is watching  my brother get crushed when my dad lists his grievances for what is not perfect in the house. The things that are “out of control.” The things that are really insignificant, but he makes a big deal out of. Like the speck of dust in the corner, or the flowers that just got a little wilted. Then there’s the issue of religion, and all of the rituals, the practices, the methods to get us to the “right” place.

I think my parents have understood that I have begun to just stay away from our practice, simply because I don’t see the use in it. Dad calls this a lack of diligence, lack of time to accumulate wisdom. I see it as I have my own path, and you should respect that. -They haven’t been pushing the religion thing as hard on me… but my dad has definitely squashed that onto my brother daily. Up to a point where I really think that it will hurt my brother’s spiritual relationship with whatever he is practicing himself.

I think my Dad’s Buddhist practice has done wonders to help him calm down, and has done great things for his ‘bad’ back… (He does long prostrations, kind of like a sun salutation, that turns into a downward dog, turns into a cobra -kind of.) Anyways, I stopped doing it because it just didn’t make sense for me to continue a practice that didn’t resonate with me. Dance has now become my spiritual outlet. I’ve been seen as a free spirit, and a grounding force… This is exactly how I feel, and how I express myself, and how people see me authentically. To me, that is the closest to Spirit I can be, is to manifest the most authentic version of myself…

But tonight, Dad had to express what my brother wasn’t doing right… How he wasn’t performing correctly.

To me, this is utter bullshit.

Then again, to think that my brother hasn’t really voiced his opinion. I think he too doesn’t feel connected to the practices adopted by my parents. Yet, he as said nothing, and has been going along with everything they say. He’ll continue to do how he has done, and continue to be criticized because it’s not coming from an authentic place.


The more I think about it, the more I see that working with motivations that inauthentic will always cause me trouble. At first you think that it’s a “fake it ’til you make it” kind of deal. -But honestly, if you have no true intention to actually do what it is you have been asked to achieve, or do what you “think” is what you’re supposed to achieve because of some rule, then hell, you’re not going to do what is appropriate for yourself or others for that matter.




On the Brink

Of falling. Hard.

Not the fall in love falling.

But the kind of falling that permits a thousand failures and things to break and going completely to pieces.

The kind of falling that hurts and penetrates deep into the core of being.

Perhaps this is the only way to get to where I need to be. To rip apart what I think is a kinder, softer, gentler construct. To break away from the paradigm of codependent relationships with my parents. Freedom comes with the freedom of the mind, of breaking through the limitations that I have set upon myself.

“I am capable. I can do anything I set my mind to.”

-Yes, all of this is true. However, where has my mind gone? Where does my heart reside?

I have struck a path that does not resonate with things I have agreed to do.

I have not done my best at everything I want to do.


I have not been impeccable with my word.


I have gone against myself in this struggle to be of service to my family. I have not served them well. I have not served myself well. -And I keep coming up with this lesson, over and over again. I am inefficient, without passion, I have violated my rule to adhere to a schedule where Sunday was my day of rest. My sabbath, my day to dance, my day to take liberties… This was something that was incredibly important to me. -Yet, I have forsaken this ritual to be “of service.” Where have my priorities gone?

I need to remember again, what it means to be of service to others as a service to myself. So that I am not constantly complaining about the undeniable sense of “stuckness” I have living. I must take charge and responsibility. I need to not listen to the nagging. To the insults. To the “go be a redneck, go do blue collar work” to the words that belittle whatever job I want to choose.

I can choose. I should honor my ability to not be ashamed in what I do, to not feel guilt.

I need to be hungry again. I am starting to feel the aches. No more guilt about leaving again. I’m at this point… AGAIN.

I am capable. I can do whatever I set my mind to.