the bucket list

When I was going through my divorce, I had a bucket list of things I wanted to do when I was single.  Ask any woman that is married and she will tell you that she dreams of an apartment far away that she can disappear to when she has had too much and do nothing but drink wine and watch chick flics.  She would say that it would be clean, that only the things she wanted in the fridge would be there, that there would be no tonka trucks to step over, no sippy cups in the sink and the television would actually block out spongebob squarepants.  She would have only the music playing on the radio that she wanted, not Kid's bops or the Wiggles.  Her closet would only hold fabulous comfortable clothes and all the mirrors in the house would distort her to appear she lost ten pounds. 

I had a bucket list of all this stuff I was going to be when I was single.  I would have to buy a planner just to keep up with all the fun things I had planned.  Yoga on Mondays, pottery on tuesdays, cooking class at whole foods on saturdays and date nights penciled in like tic tac toe games.  Someone would say "what are you doing on thursday night" and I would pull my planner out of my oversized purse and perch my kim kardashian sunglasses atop my head, push my long brown (and full) curls over my shoulder and say "let me check."  I was going to be tan, thin, fun and fabulous.  Looking back, I have no idea why looking like Britney Spears was in my list of to do's, but for some reason I envisioned myself a size two, wearing a halter top and those dangly silver bracelets. 

I thought being single would be amazing.  I thought I would leave a major imprint in the single world and guys would be knocking on my door asking me out.  I would be asked out in the grocery store, the dentist office, the gas station, work..you name it.  I would be like a "where's waldo" in the dating world.  Men would be searching for me far and wide and wanting to wine and dine me. 

But I was not fabulous, I was not amazing.  The only imprint I left on this world was the ass print on my couch.  My fingers were worn and callused from hours of fondling the remote control and texting my assistant manager.  There was so much building on my second time single bucket list, but nothing was getting crossed out. 

So, one day I decided to change that. 

I decided that I would go on at least one date a week.  No matter if I felt there was a connection or not.  I would become a serial dater.  I would log onto their dating profiles prior to meeting them out and practice their likes and dislikes in the car as if I were auditioning for a play.  I would say their name five times in the car on the way there so as not to forget who it was I was meeting.  I would NOT use phrases like "so are you the one that likes to play chess or do you like to hanglide?"  This kind of comment not only gets you in trouble but makes you appear to be either unable to retain information or just a plain slut.  I prefer to stick to the former of the two.  If you accidentally make a statement that does not refer to them, or if you call them by the wrong name you can say any of the following phrases and cover your ass. 

"oh, that's right, you don't have the three kids, I am thinking of the sweet husband and wife I met while volunteering at the children's hospital earlier this week."

"shoot, that's not you that played football in college, I am sorry, I was watching so much ESPN today, I just must have football on my mind." 

"you don't work at Dell?  Oh that's right.  I was thinking of that other guy that broke up with me because I just wanted to have sex all the time." 

any of the above will get you out of an "oh shit" moment. 

I began to keep notes next to my computer about guys that I had been talking to and who not to answer.  In the beginning, I would take the time to enter the new guys information into my phone only to find myself deleting it days later.  Now, I simply have a contact name of "DOW" for "Date of the Week" and I change the numbers as needed.  I also have a "do not answer" number in my phone for the mattress tapping Dougs of the world.  Now, in any given day, I will get a text message from a guy and have to scroll back to see who in the hell it is I am talking to. 

In other words, it is all mere entertainment. 

And that is how you have to look at it.  I really was putting a lot of faith into this whole on line dating thing.  In the beginning I felt like I would meet the man of my dreams online.  I was going to be one of the success stories where the couple is laughing and washing their car together.  Stopping only to embrace and kiss while they laugh and the slow motion spray of water showers their love that was created by two people tapping away on a keyboard.  It worked for them, why wouldn't it work for me? 

I am not giving up hope yet.  I know that the people I have gone on dates with, though they have not been the right one, have each taught me something about myself. I have gone on dates with guys that have introduced me to nothing but a great restaurant which I now frequent on my own.  I have gone to movies with guys that I normally would not have seen and scored a giant box of sour patch kids which was later used as a bartaring tool with my child.  I have gone to bars that I normally would not have even stepped foot into, only to find myself there months later with girl friends, staring at the table where we once sat and held hands.  Yes, there is a lot you can take away from all these dates.  You just have to open your eyes to WHAT each of them brings you, not WHO it brings to you.  In the last three years since my divorce I have found that I hate Tai food, love live music, and would give anything to continue that feeling you feel five minutes before he walks in the door.

The most important thing I have come to find since I became second time single, is that I am not afraid to be who I am.  I have tried to step into a hundred different costumes, thinking "this is going to be the person I want to be."  Only to find that it doesn't feel right and I end up disappointed that I forced myself into something I was not.

Take the Dell guy.  I was with him for about 5 months, and he was a bike rider.  He had them all over his garage and had helmets and those little gay ass bike shorts that made me question his sexuality.  During my relationship with him, I purchased a 400.00 bike because he said it was the kind I should start out with.  (The last bike I owned was pink and had a basket in the front and little tassles on the handle bars.)  That 400.000 bike now sits in my kitchen, leaned up against the wall, and stares at me like a bad reminder of my relationship with him.  I do not ride it, I do not want to ride it, it makes me run out of breath and all sweaty.

Another guy I dated was a big runner.  I decided to pull out all my wickable shirts and started dressing like a runner when I knew I might run into him.  I would wear my hair in braids with a bandana and carry a stop watch in my pocket "just in case I wanted to get a few laps in".  My new shoes that I bought while with him never got used, so I would stand in the driveway and try and scuff them up to appear they had been on the trails all week.  I stocked my fridge with gatorade and replaced my writing mix on my ipod to read "10 minute mile workout" mix.  He did not need to know it included songs by Norah Jones and bach for book lovers.

Needless to say, I was trying to be someone I am not.  And now, I am proud to say that I am who I am.  No more bike buying, road running, tai food eating for this girl.  I will stand up for what I want and for what I like.

Yes, the bucket list sits on my fridge, like a relentless reminder of what I hope to be.  But really, the right guy is out there for me.  And he will love that I still wear my maternity bathrobe, that I have shirts in my closet that I bought in high school, and that I go to bed at 8:30 on most nights.

Until then, the bucket list will continue to grow in size, and I will continue to figure out exatly who this sarah girl is...second time single and all. 

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