Where Is My Ex-Husband's Wedding Ring?

As you know, I’m on the prowl. I’ve been dating, which inevitably includes pondering the mystery of the “two great dates and he disappears” phenomenon. I’ve been doing a little making out with guys who are too young for me (I gotta stop that!). Hell, I even went on a total setup/pseudo blind date (still waiting for him to follow up properly). But, so far, nothing much to report on my dating life.

No boyfriend material means I have been admiring the goods just about everywhere I go!

The other day, I was checking out guys when I was… um, someplace and breathing. The mall? The grocery store? The library? Who knows. A single woman on the prowl must keep her eyes peeled, folks. And what do I notice first? His hands.

Since I was about 20-years-old, whenever I’m checking out guys, I always, always, always do the WBC.

WBC is Kat speak for "Wedding Band Check."

My eye automatically drifts down to any guy’s left ring finger. Then my next thought would either be “Game on (possibly!)” if his finger were vacant or “Damn. Next!” if his finger were occupied. It’s funny, even when I was married, I would find myself checking, just out of curiosity.

(For the record, I just look at his finger. I rarely actually approach the guy with the naked finger, though I’m working on my courage. And I stay far away from a guy with a ring!)

So anyway when I was scoping out some cute stranger’s hand while shopping or picking out cereal or selecting a book, a thought struck me: I bet women check out Max and his naked left hand all the time. I mean, why wouldn’t they? He’s just about six feet tall, a lean but strong build, a good head of dark hair, and an amazing smile. A handsome guy who’s not wearing a ring? He’s prime for the picking!

Whoa. Other women are looking at Max. Does he notice? Does he care? Has he dated at all? Has he kissed anyone?

What did he do with the elegant platinum wedding band that he selected five years ago?

(He was still wearing it when we met with the mediators. It was so sad. My rings had been off for weeks.)

I looked down at my naked left ring finger. Max never once asked me what I did with my engagement ring. (I sold it last year and bought myself a right hand ring.) He certainly has never asked me about dating. So I guess I’ll never know what became of his wedding band.

Do you regularly do the WBC? Do you know what your ex did with his or her wedding rings?

Am I Ready to Buy A Home On My Own?

“We are planning to put the apartment on the market…”

Yes, my landlord was talking about my beloved apartment, the apartment I yearned for during the long months of co-habitating with my ex-husband. It felt like our condo would never sell (and for six months, it didn’t). When I walked into this apartment, I hadn’t even turned on the lights when I turned to my realtor and exclaimed, “This is it! This is my apartment! Call right now!” 

The day I got the keys, I strolled into this empty apartment and laid down on the bedroom floor, my arms and legs spread like a star. I smiled ear to ear as tears trickled down my face.

“My apartment,” I thought. “All mine. I did it. I’m back on my own!”

I can't leave this view!!

Over the past eight months, this apartment has symbolized my independence and joy as I have moved on without Max and redefined myself. The collectively shitty experience of living in a condo I didn’t want in a town I didn’t really like has become a distant memory, thanks to this apartment in Ford.

And now my landlord wants to sell it?! I almost puked and burst into tears.

So, now what?

I have two options: move again or… buy this place.

(Actually, my first thought was that episode of The Golden Girls when Blanche handcuffed herself to the radiator at her grandmother's plantation, but I thought that might be a tad overdramatic for me.)

Being a Homeowner Sucked Last Time

I was kind of traumatized by my last home ownership experience. But can you blame me?

We bought our condo in March of 2010, five months after we got married. To be honest, I have almost no happy memories of living there. Plenty of good things happened in my life during those years, but within those condo walls, it was mostly sadness, loneliness, and rejection. Once my relationship with Max was over, those feelings were overshadowed by overwhelming frustration of being trapped as we waited for that damn buyer to show up.

We dropped the condo price more than once, each time tens of thousands of dollars flying away from us. So not only was I terribly frustrated with my living situation but I was also actively LOSING money on it? This is the American Dream? I call bullshit!

When we finally signed over the condo, I was an emotional wreck (but relieved too). I remember thinking, “If I never own a home again, it will be too soon.”

Is It Time To Buy?

Yoshi's plan for how to buy my apartment.

Yeah, homeownership did suck with Max… but it largely sucked because the condo was my scapegoat. It symbolized the sadness of a crumbling marriage.  The curveball of divorce and a slumping condo market in G-town were things we couldn’t have predicted.

But I did learn a lot from the experience. I will ask more and better questions this time (like, hello, the policy on renting out the unit).

I have downpayment money in a savings account called – you guessed it – “Downpayment.” I know I love this apartment. I know the people in the building are normal (there were a lot of grumpy weirdos in my previous building). My commute is only 20 minutes. I can walk to everything I need.

Unlike last time where we were buying in a town I didn’t know, I love Ford. I have done a lot of thinking over the past year about where I want to live, and I’ve come to the conclusion that for the foreseeable future, this is where I want to be.

So… why not commit to buying? 

I’m doing it! I’m going to make an offer to buy my apartment! 

What was your post-split living situation like?

My Boyfriend is NOT an Insecure, Sleazy Vegan Who Doesn't Drink or Eat Gluten

"If I wuz ya boyfriend, I'd never let ya go!"

Dear Boyfriend,

I can’t wait to meet you!

It’s been just about two years since my relationship with Max ended, the day he told me that he wasn't attracted to me. Since then, I have cried in bathrooms, gone and still go to therapy, blogged and tweeted, ran two half marathons, and dated my Mr. Right Now. I continue to soul search and grow from my divorce so I can have an open heart and mind when I meet you.

In January of 2014, I decided I was ready to find you.

You might be anywhere, which is very exciting. I could meet you in the bagel shop, at my office (that’s where I met Max), at a gas station, on a dating website, or at Chipotle. So, I have been trying extra hard to talk to strangers. After all, you are probably a stranger to me right now.

Well, Boyfriend, last week I met two guys and I learned some things about what you will not do. 

1. You will not treat me like Foursquare.

I met this guy, Steve, at a bar. I didn’t really think he would be you, but I guess I was feeling friendly and optimistic. The night after we met, Steve asked if I wanted to meet him out. I said I had plans with friends. He then texted me four more times over the next 90 minutes, checking in with his location! What was this, reverse stalking? What the hell did I care which bar he was at? I said I was busy! 

Boyfriend, you will not be so needy and insecure or desperate to get laid or whatever.

2. You will not make sexually suggestive comments (until we are dating, of course).

After Steve got my number, he noticed pink streaks on the underside of my hair. He proceeded to make comments in person and then repeatedly over text about wanting to see my “wild side.” Ewww. ( I broke plans to meet him for drinks. He was clearly not you, dear Boyfriend.)

OMG, you're gorgeous.

3. You will not shun delicious wheat and eggs and cheese.

I went out twice with Bill, a short, small man who I met through OKCupid. Bill is smart and interesting but once I found out that he was a vegan who doesn’t eaten gluten, I knew he wasn’t you. Yes, I follow a strict vegetarian diet, but I am not vegan. That’s just too big of a pain in the ass. AND he doesn't eat gluten?! (And no, he does not have celiac.) I pictured him nibbling on grass. But maybe dirt has gluten?! Sigh.

Mark my words, Boyfriend: you and I will eat amazing egg and cheese bagel sandwiches on Sundays. And yes, you can have bacon on your sandwich.

4.     You will not order unsweetened iced tea… at a bar.

Bill asked me out for coffee for our first meeting, and I thought, “Shit! Coffee dates are for losers! They never work!” So I said I’d rather go to a bar. We did meet at a bar, and it turns out that not only did Bill not eat animal products or gluten, he doesn’t drink. At all. 

Boyfriend, I know you’re laughing that I even bothered going out with him, but I had to try! I know now that you and I will drink together, with my friends, and with my family. Every once in a while, we will drink too much and have hot sloppy sex or a stupid argument. And some nights we’ll snuggle on the couch while sipping our glasses of wine, and then nod off while watching “Back to the Future.”

These might sound kind of horrible experiences, but I never see it that way. When I meet people like Steve and Bill, it helps me know more surely that I will know you when we meet. 

Boyfriend, we will be secure in our relationship and we’ll never worry what the other one is doing when we’re not there. You will be appropriately flirty with me (and eventually we’ll have hot, sweet sex). We’re going to eat carbs and drink alcohol. I know I'm not asking too much, so I know you're out there.

We are going to have a great time together!

Love,

Kat

P.S. I hope you show yourself soon. Just saying!

"Hi, I'm Kat. I came here alone!"

A really cool thing about being married was having that built-in date, buddy, +1, partner in crime, whatever you want to call it. You have a go-to person for every wedding, barbecue, and brunch. You never have to do anything alone if you don’t want to.

Now, I’m not Kat + Max. I’m not even Kat +1. I’m just… Kat.

I’m an extrovert and very social so I’m usually fine going into any situation alone. But on Saturday, I had a small freakout.

Missing My +1

I was heading to a Cinco de Mayo party in G-town, the town where I shared a condo with Max. I came to despise G-town, the town where my marriage weakened and then collapsed. I’m working on not hating the town, but it’s still full of sad, bitter memories for me.

Anyway, as I drove through the familiar streets in Max’s former car, I remembered the first party that Max and I attended at this couple’s house three years ago. With the exception of my friend Candice and her husband Greg, we weren’t going to know anyone at that party. No matter though, Max and I had each other. He parked the car in the long driveway and we strolled in together, hand in hand.

Now, I was alone.

I called my parents.

“Can I vent?”

Of course, they said. (Yes, both were on the line.)

I hate going to stuff alone, I told them. I know this party will be great once I’m in, but first, I have to walk in. Alone. I can talk to a potted plant if I need to, but I have to get inside first. Candice and Greg are coming but not until later, so I won’t know anyone. This is bullshit, I whined.

“I wish Max were with me,” I confessed. “Not because I want to be married to him, but because I wish I had him to walk inside with me.”

My parents both agreed, completely understanding. My dad had a good tip:

“Find a single guy. Any single guy in his right mind should find you, but if he doesn’t, find him. He’ll be really excited to talk to you.”

I thanked them for listening. I parked the car then checked my reflection in the rearview mirror. (Hey, I’m getting pretty good at applying liquid eyeliner!) Enough is enough, I told myself. There are margaritas and guacamole in there. Go, Kat, go!

I walked up the long driveway alone.

...unless you're walking into a party by yourself
and the strangers aren't wearing wedding rings.
Then it's OK.

Walking In Alone

I took a deep breath and walked in the house. I looked around and knew no one – I didn’t even see the hostess. (Ohmygod why am I doing this?!) Obviously, I made a beeline for the bar and then ordered a margarita. And what do you know? There was a group of three men, none of them wearing wedding rings, right behind me!

“Hi, I’m Kat!” I blurted out, big smile plastered across my face.

They looked at me, slightly confused.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I came here alone so… nice to meet you!”

And with that, the ice was broken. Introductions and chatter all around! They were very friendly and good company until Candice and Greg arrived.

Receiving The Best Compliment Ever

An hour or two after facing my fear of walking in alone, I was chatting it up with Candice and Greg. They are a lovely couple, together for 12 years and proud parents of a toddler. As they told me about their daughter’s latest shenanigans, they paused.

“You’re so independent,” said Greg earnestly.

“You really are,” Candice agreed. “We would love it if our daughter were as strong and cool as you.”

I blushed a bit and thanked them.

Best. Compliment. Ever. And to a woman who required a parental pep talk to walk into a party!

What was it like for you to start going to things alone after your divorce or breakup?

Why Do I Want to Make Out With Some Guys But Not Others? The Mystery of Chemistry!

Why are we drawn to some people and not to others? Why do we instantly feel comfortable with someone we’ve just met or never comfortable with someone we have known for decades? Why are we clamoring to get close to one person and perpetually backing up from another?

Chemistry sure is a curious thing. 

Let’s take a look at the chemistry with three guys I flirted with in the past week.

Yes, please.

Zach, the 22-year-old. Yes, you read that right. He didn’t disappear after my drunk girls' night out a few weeks ago. He was very direct about wanting to see me again, meaning come to my apartment and fool around. Well, I have no other prospects on the horizon, so why not indulge in an emotion-free hook up? He walked into my apartment, and with hardly a hello the making out commenced. Shit, he was so sexy. How does a guy born in 1992 have those kind of moves?! (But I stuck to my annoying No Sex Until We're Dating rule.) Post-orgasms, we were so impressed with ourselves that we actually high-fived. He literally was in my apartment for 35 minutes. What little I saw of his [irrelevant in this situation] personality, he seemed fine, but damn for that physical chemistry.

Chris, who I met through Tinder [yes, I'm trying Tinder!]. I met him for a non-date on Friday. He was smart, polite, nicely dressed, and gainfully employed with a passion for music. Oh and he had an accent for God’s sake! Sounds pretty much perfect, right? We had a very nice time together, and I could feel his interest in me and I just… didn’t. I had no desire to kiss him. I started off flirty, and I could feel myself turning off my (attempt at) charm. He texted me when he got home saying he enjoyed meeting me. I said thank you again for the drinks. He responded saying he’d like to get together again if I were up for it. I didn’t answer, and my fingers are crossed that I don’t hear from him again. I don’t want to tell him I don’t feel the chemistry, because what a bummer!

The 26-year-old who is now 27, so I guess he should have a name: Sean. I ran into him after my non-date, and he’s been booty texting me. He’s still deleted from my phone, but he’s so tempting. There’s a playful sexuality that is exciting with him, even though he's not the best hookup I've had post-divorce.

This sums up Jason and me perfectly!

But the most fascinating person when it comes to chemistry is Jason. No, I’m not talking to him (much to the relief of my friends, particularly Nora and Ali), but when it comes to pure physical chemistry Jason is the winner. But why?! He’s OK looking, but nothing great. Hell, I don’t particularly like him. But OMG, the attraction between us is wild. It truly baffles me. I could see Aaron or Todd, both excellent hookups and both have better looks, personalities, and jobs, but I don’t think I’d have any desire for them anymore. Whereas with Jason, I don’t think I can be near him without wanting to at least kiss him, if not have Incredible Sex. I don’t need porn because I can just think about him!

So now if I could just find a guy who:

• is as smart and put-together as Chris
• with the sex appeal of Zach 
• with the playfulness of Sean 
• with the insane orgasm delivery of Jason

. . . I’ll have my perfect man! I'm trying out Tinder and I reactivated my OKCupid profile, though I'm still hoping to find my next guy through real life. I'll keep you posted on my search!

Have you had these chemistry mysteries? Any fun or disappointing experiments?

Why Silence Makes Me Scream

The silence was driving me crazy. Where had John gone?!

Yesterday, 13 days since I’d last seen him and 10 days since his odd text, I contacted him through Facebook.

After the first time you didn't want to date me, you clearly felt that you owed me an explanation and an apology. While I appreciated that, I didn't really feel that you had to explain yourself.

While our time recently reconnecting was brief, your sudden and unexpected disappearance has been confusing and hurtful. I find it ironic - and disappointing - that this time, when some sort of explanation would've been the appropriate thing to offer, I haven't heard a word from you.

As the saying goes, fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me. So, I take some responsibility and ask that if you're considering getting in touch with me again, please don't.

John wrote back promptly. The long and short of it was that his job did in fact unexpectedly become unstable. He has only told his family as he started looking for jobs in the New York City area… and California?! He was going to contact me when he returned from the West Coast, if I believed that.

I absolutely believe him. (But he still blew his chances with me.) My response:

Of course I believe you. That is a lot to be handling, and I completely understand needing space and time to think. I just wish you had said something days ago. I would have been cool to reconnect when you were ready. Your last cryptic text followed by almost two weeks of silence left me confused and thinking the worst. I hope your job situation stabilizes and that any changes that might happen will be for the better.

Then, finally he wrote:

I understand and apologize for leaving you confused like that. All I can say is that I hope all is well with you, and whether my next message comes from CA or here I will let you know even if you decide to not receive it (which I'll understand).

I got my apology. Good. I told John I accepted and appreciated the apology. But more importantly, I had broken the silence.

Then I deleted his number from my phone – again.

The moral of this story – and men, please listen up:

You don’t have to say much to keep a woman happy.
Silence makes us very unhappy. Just tell us something.

All John had to do was send off a text or two along the lines of “Dealing with a lot at work. Sorry to be out of touch, but will give you a call soon.” Then at least I would have known he was alive and I was even remotely on his radar.

Maybe if John had been in touch once or twice, and then called me, say, tomorrow, we could have had a chance. Maybe we could have stayed on track then actually started dating. Instead, his mysterious retreat and silence left me questioning my own actions, which I needn’t have done.

It's possible I overreacted to the silence, but I know now why it bothered me so much.

Silence slowly destroyed my marriage. Max and I often sat in suffocating clouds of pain and secrets and rejection, but both of us too scared and conflict avoidant to speak up. When I did try to ask him about anything about his lack of desire for sexual contact (or anything else he deemed too private), he would shut down. Answers short. No eye contact. In that silence, I was left questioning and doubting everything about both of us.

In fact, one time I became so frustrated and enraged by Max's silence that I literally screamed, complete with punching my mattress and collapsing into a heap of exhausted, desperate tears.

Silence is a terrible place to live and I cannot go back there again.

These last two weeks taught me that I cannot deal with mysterious silence in the midst of uncertainty. Silence leads to resentment all around. I need to be with a man who can speak up and tell me what he needs, even if it’s that he needs space.

Does silence make you freak out as much as it freaks me out? What dealbreaker has emerged as a result of your breakup?

See also: Silence: A Relationship Killer.

I Got Optimistic About A Guy. Now I Feel Stupid.

I feel like this, but I don't look as cute.

It’s not often that I feel embarrassed, and I’m embarrassed now. In fact, I almost didn’t write this blog entry and I even considered deleting last week’s entry (that must be against some blogging law).

But, I share everything with you, my beloved readers, from my finest characteristics to my sometimes questionable taste in sexual partners. Hell, you even know that I stopped grooming so I'd find me a boyfriend. I've never held back before, why start now?

So, on with the story about John, the guy about whom I wrote lovely things last week.

Last Tuesday, I’d had a terrible day and was feeling kind of sorry for myself. I was going to head to my usual Spinning class, but John and I were texting anyway so… I boldly asked if he would like to meet for happy hour. He said yes. My mood brightened immediately. We spent almost three hours together, talking about everything from work to dating to 80s movies. He told me where he wanted to take me to dinner after my trip to Viriginia (I was going to visit my brother and run the George Washington Parkway Classic). I insisted on paying the bill since I invited him out. He was surprised and appreciative. Again, it was great being with him.

In the parking lot, we said goodbye, and then we start kissing. Then the kissing got more intense. Then he had me leaning against my car. Hands were wandering (but not TOO wandering). This went on for probably 15 minutes. You guys, it was HOT. And I was so excited because this is the guy who was concerned about being “too square” for me – this was not square at all!

I drove home smiling. I had intelligent, quality conversation with a cute guy and then got just a bit inappropriately touchy feely in the parking lot. YES. This is what I want in a boyfriend!

Wednesday comes and I don’t hear anything. I texted him after book club to show him the dessert I made (he has a big sweet tooth). Half an hour later he responded saying “nice!”

Then, the feeling kicked in… you know, that feeling.

On Friday, I texted him to say hello from my Washington DC-bound bus. He took awhile to reply. So, I went for it:

Me: I hate to do this over text but is everything ok?
Him: Had a rough end of work week, it’s a long story but have to figure some things out, driving to my parents’ now to talk things thru
Me: I’m sorry to hear that. I hope everyone is ok. If you want to talk, give me a call – I owe you after all the listening you did on Tuesday!

Today is Tuesday, a week since I last saw John. I still have not heard from him and I certainly can’t contact him now. When he didn’t even wish me good luck for my race (running is how we reconnected), I was like, SHIT. I’m so confused! And damn, my ego hurts something fierce.

Did our parking lot makeout session ignite a Madonna-whore complex? Did something really happen to him last week or was he just blowing me off? Did the lack of chase turn him away? He is turning into a ghost?!

My feelings are hurt and that sucks. I truly didn’t expect this blow off to happen -- again!! -- and furthermore I'm totally irritated that it bothers me this much. I thought John contacting me was a sign that we might finally get our chance to date. I feel stupid that I was so hopeful, and after only two dates. I feel embarrassed by my premature optimism and his completely mysterious rejection. He knows (knew?) me enough to know how much this kind of treatment would bother me. And he is doing it anyway.

(To make matters worse, I am finding myself wanting to go back to unemotional, just for the hookup arrangements. I totally know why – it’s my desire to protect my heart while chasing a Batteries Not Required orgasm. I haven’t given in to those urges… yet.)

See Why Silence Makes Me Scream to find out why he disappeared.

When was the last time the dating rug was pulled out from under you?