Melani Robinson

Author | 1 Year of Online Dating at 50

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It’s An Energy Thing

January 30, 2018 by Melani 3 Comments

Meet Sulimon and listen as he describes what he’s looking for in a woman. Believe it or not, it has nothing to do with appearance.

Sulimon shares he once had a recording contract so if you would like to hear more of his music, beyond the song included in the podcast, you can find him on Spotify and iTunes (Sulimon Balogun).

To listen to the podcast on iTunes click HERE.

To listen to the podcast from this website, click HERE.

Here’s wishing Suli finds a woman with just the right energy because he deserves every happiness.

PS-My podcast editor said, “Oh my god there was so much sexual tension between you!”

Hello, Old Friends

January 3, 2018 by Melani 12 Comments

Happy New Year!

I thought it would be a good time to reach out via the blog and check in. I know you hear from me with each Single Because Podcast episode, but I’m in need of this sort of contact with all of you.

I’ve been on and off dating apps over the last year. I’ve even had a few experiences that have gone beyond a date or two. Alas, in the words of U2, I still haven’t found what I’m looking for. It’s not for lack of trying, though.

Who am I kidding? Here’s the truth, I’ve been half-assing it most of the time, even with men who might be mistaken for the models on the over-50 dating site ads.

Sometimes it’s just a boatload of aggravation getting dressed up, applying makeup and then squeezing into fucking shapewear to make small talk with a stranger. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to look across the table at a gorgeous man, and I’ve  dated quite a few lately. But, here’s what I’ve discovered and it’s likely because of my age:

It’s not enough.

Now, I don’t mean it’s not enough long-term, what I’m saying is a pretty face won’t cut it even for the casual horizontal hula. Sex just isn’t fulfilling if the person doesn’t grab me—and by grab, I mean all of me. I need smarts, humor and someone with an interesting life. A little swagger doesn’t hurt either. Sheesh, I’m not asking for the moon. All right, the section of my dating profile that states, “Must have given a TED Talk and, don’t try to squeak by with TEDx,” might seem, um, delusional to some.

C’est la vie!

Kill me now.

I’ve also found I would rather focus on my writing. Coupling up just isn’t as important as it once was. I often feel that I’m living my life backward and when I hear people my age speak of retirement I can’t help but shudder.

I married and had my daughters quite young, got divorced, raised them and worked a job I enjoyed but it wasn’t my passion. It was satisfying enough and it paid the bills.

Then, I had a great big beautiful love and was widowed—all by the time I was 45. I didn’t have my twenties to find myself, act irresponsibly then begin to establish a career that was based on work I loved. I’ve only had that for the last eight years and I still haven’t really accomplished anything, dammit! Well, maybe the irresponsible part, just a bit.

I want professional success and that’s really where I’ve been laser-focused. I finished the book about my year of online dating. I’ve sent it out to agents and small publishing houses not requiring an agent submission, but haven’t had much interest. I’ll keep trying and may eventually self-publish if I can’t sell the darn thing.

I worked with a friend of mine, Michael, a talented screenwriter who’s had an amazing career and worked for several major studios. Together, we created a scripted series based on the blog and book. Michael was a wonderful teacher as we wrote the pilot script and bible and although he’s not one for collaborating, he was kind enough to make an exception. The series, a dramedy, is made for streaming services or cable (lots of swearing).  It is called, “Broken Heals” and we’d love to find an audience.

I’ve also been writing a memoir based on the two years my husband and I lived in Russia called, “Mudderland.” Since I had a crash course in screenwriting and wasn’t sure how much I’d retain, I went ahead and created a scripted series, a comedy, based on the book that I’m still in the process of writing. This is a comedy because our life in Russia is a ridiculous gift that keeps on giving–if one is writing about it after the fact instead of living in the craziness, of course. I have the pilot script and series bible finished. “Mudderland” is another project I would love to sell. It’s hard (some have told me impossible) to sell these projects as an unknown, and that’s exactly what I am. If I could finagle a way to get the right eyes on either or both, who knows what might happen? I’m not sure how, but I’m going to keep pushing. With all the female-driven work finally getting attention through people like Reece Witherspoon and her Hello Sunshine production company, all it takes is one person to read it and believe it’s a story that should be told.

So now you know all that’s going on in my life–lots of work and very little lust. BUT, I’m happy and busy and I’m feeling fulfilled. Not as content as I would be if I could actually figure out a way to support myself with my work–but I’m doing everything I can to get there.

I was recently in a DatingAdvice.com article, and if you’re interested, you can read it HERE. It was an unexpected and wonderful surprise and while you’re there, check out the site. DatingAdvice.com is the leading web authority on dating and an excellent resource.

I hope you had a wonderful holiday and New Year. I don’t know about you but I was glad to put 2017 in the rearview mirror. I haven’t slept through the night in over a year. As my grandmother used to say, “Every night I’m up and down like a whore at a picnic.” The cause of my insomnia is clear: the fucking nightmare that is Donald Trump and his insane administration. I never thought I’d worry about nuclear war. I can’t even get out of bed without looking at Twitter. I need to know what that lunatic will destroy next.

*takes a deep cleansing breath*

Here’s wishing everyone peace,  joy and restful sleep in 2018. What’s new with you? Feel free to dish some dirt in the comments section. I always love hearing about your lives.

PS: I’ve really missed you.

Melani

“It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them.” Ralph Waldo Emerson

A Seat at Her Table

December 18, 2017 by Melani Leave a Comment

Meet Steph and listen as she talks about the work she’s done to finally feel comfortable in her own skin.  Steph shares her struggles with low self-esteem, but more specifically how living with Poland syndrome, a rare disorder, that has impacted her relationships in the past. Listen as she describes what she’s done to avoid making the same mistakes in her current relationship.

 

Click HERE to listen via iTunes.

Click HERE to listen from the website.

Please: Rate, Review and Subscribe to the podcast on iTunes.

See you again in 2018!

 

Her Second Act

October 4, 2017 by Melani 4 Comments

Meet Donna and listen as she talks about the circumstances led her to the second act in her life. One she never saw coming.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Click HERE to listen on iTunes.

Click HERE to listen from the website.

Don’t forget to RATE, REVIEW and SUBSCRIBE on iTunes. As you know–it matters.

Young Guy Old School

July 3, 2017 by Melani Leave a Comment

Meet Keith and listen as he tells us how his generation (and dating) isn’t what it used to be.

Keith has an old-fashioned view of dating, yet as a millennial living in New York City, he feels forced to use technology in the search for love.

 

 

 

Click HERE to listen on iTunes.

Click HERE to listen from the website.

This will be the last podcast until September. I’m taking the rest of the summer to polish the book about my year of online dating. I’m also working on a new book, a memoir, about two Americans living in Russia. I’m calling it, “Mudderland” and I think the subject matter is rather timely, right?

If you haven’t already subscribed to the podcast or blog, I hope you’ll do so either from this website or on iTunes. If you subscribe, you’ll be notified when new podcast episodes air in the fall. You can also follow along on the Single Because Podcast Facebook Page or my Facebook Page. You can also follow me on Twitter if you can stand that all I do is bitch about Trump. Ugh, maybe he’ll be gone soon and I can get some sleep.

Have a wonderful summer filled with love and seriously lustful sex. Light a candle for me in that area, please!

As always I hope you’ll take the time to rate and review on iTunes. It doesn’t take long and it means a lot to me.

 

You Talkin’ To Me?

May 2, 2017 by Melani Leave a Comment

I’m sharing a story from long ago about a guy named Chuck. It’s from the blog 1yearofonlinedatingat50.com where I chronicled a fairly disastrous year of digital dating. I ask guests on the podcast to share personal and often embarrassing stories.  It’s only fair that I occasionally do the same. For the record, I always changed the names of the men I wrote about. I would modify other details too such as where they lived or worked to be sure nobody they knew would recognize them. I didn’t seek to humiliate anyone but sometimes, given the level of crazy, it might’ve happened. Just the facts and this one is embarrassing and, um, dirty. Very dirty.

I want to thank those of you that have taken the time to Rate, Review and Subscribe on iTunes. If you haven’t written a review I hope you’ll do so. Based on stats there are about 10,000 regular listeners who’ve not yet done so. Come on, show me some love.

Click HERE to listen from iTunes.

Click HERE to listen from this website.

What’s In A Name?

April 3, 2017 by Melani 1 Comment

Listen as Jackie tells her story of transformation from the insecure “Little Korean Girl” to the powerful and confident woman she is today. Was it all because she changed her name?

Jackie talks about her evolution and the winding path she took to reach a place where she could embrace everything about herself, flaws and all. She was comfortable with the possibility that she would never find love or get married. Of course, that was when she met her soulmate and knew it something different–a love that would last a lifetime.

You’ll find more photos of Jackie and her fiancé, on the podcast show notes page.

Click HERE to listen on iTunes.

Click HERE to listen from the website.

Be sure to RATE and REVIEW on iTunes. Over 10K of you are here every month and yet I have a small number of reviews. Reviews make it possible to approach sponsors and will allow me to continue to provide entertainment to you–free of charge. It’s important as every podcast or blog post I do costs money. Many podcasters use patron funding platforms such as Patreon instead of corporate sponsors. Let me know your opinion. Should I ask listeners to help? I’ve never attempted to monetize my work, but I think it is time.

The Wedding Planner

March 9, 2017 by Melani 3 Comments

Meet Jesse and listen as she tells us her story of searching for the right guy in New York City. Oh, and she’s a wedding planner whose professional life is spent creating the perfect day for happy couples, while she navigates the (often discouraging) dating scene in NYC. Yikes, talk about an occupational hazard, right? 

Click HERE to listen on iTunes.

Click HERE to listen from the website.

 

Be sure to Rate, Review and Subscribe on iTunes. 

Episode 10: Gettin’ Cheeky With It

February 2, 2017 by Melani Leave a Comment

Lori runs her business like a boss. but her personal life needed restructuring.

The latest Single Because Podcast episode is available for your listening pleasure. Meet Lori and listen as she shares her story of being a serial monogamist along with what she’s going to do to ensure she won’t have to file a fourth restraining order against another ex-boyfriend.

 

 

 

Click HERE to listen from iTunes.

Click HERE to listen from this website.

Below you will find a step by step guide on how to RATE and REVIEW on iTunes. It’s complicated and I don’t have a clue why it has to be. I’ve heard from many of you about your struggle to figure out how to leave a review and I thought this might make it easier. Thanks in advance for taking the time to do it!

Step 1: Google “Single Because Podcast”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Step 2: Click the Subscribe button if you want to be notified each time there’s a new episode on iTunes. Click the middle Review button.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Step 3: Click on Write a Review.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Step 4: Give it a title and then write a review such as, “Doing this so the bitch will quit asking.” Don’t forget the stars! 

Woohoooo! Thanks!

Episode 09: Polly Wanna Amorous?

January 19, 2017 by Melani 7 Comments

Meet Billy and listen as he discusses having his heart broken because he’s always been the transitional guy. You know, Mr. Right Now, while women are waiting for Mr. Right.

There’s much more to this story, though. If you’re at work or children are around, listen with headphones. If explicit sexual discussions make you squirm, this isn’t the episode for you.

Ha, now you’re dying to listen, right?

I want to thank Billy for sharing his story. Here’s the deal, when we judge people for personal relationship choices that don’t hurt anyone, that’s OUR issue.

Don’t forget to RATE and REVIEW on iTunes. I see how many of you are listening. It’s, well, discouraging that I don’t see more reviews. Please take the time. It matters.

Listen here on iTunes

Listen here from the website. 

Episode 8: Melani Shares “He Said Dungarees”

January 4, 2017 by Melani Leave a Comment

Every so often I will share one of my dating disaster stories from the blog: 1YearofOnlineDatingat50.com. I’m writing a book based on the blog–and rewriting, and rewriting and writing some more. I will publish in 2017–promise! You can sign up to be notified when the book is available through the 1 Year of Online Dating tab on this website. This story I’m reading in this podcast, “He Said Dungarees” was a popular post with followers. I hope you enjoy listening.

Listen HERE on iTunes

Listen HERE from the website

The next podcast episode that will air in two weeks is a doozy. Buckle up! Don’t forget to Rate, Review and Subscribe on iTunes. I’m going to keep asking, because it matters.

Episode 7: Back Where She Belongs

December 14, 2016 by Melani 6 Comments

11221513_10207306373438353_3344523517343401338_nMeet Rosalynn and listen as she describes her struggle to find love after more than twenty-five years of searching. She was seeking a man that could check all the boxes and as any person who’s single and seeking knows, that is hard to find. But, in Rosalynn’s case, what she was looking for had been there all along.

 

 

Listen HERE for iTunes.

Listen HERE from this website where you will also find more photos of Rosalynn and her darling daughter.

As I say at the end of this episode, please, please RATE, REVIEW, and SUBSCRIBE on iTunes. If you’re not using iTunes but are listening to the podcast from this site, you can still rate and review on iTunes.

Podcasts and websites like mine cost money.

I can attract sponsors if I have lots of great ratings and reviews. That means I’ll be able to continue to provide you with free entertainment. I never ask anything of my followers/listeners. I don’t try to sell you anything from my website, (which I’ve been told I should be doing). I’m not comfortable with that–even though I haven’t met most of you face to face, you feel like my friends. We’ve been together a long time. BUT, I’m asking you now to do this. Thank you in advance. I truly appreciate it.

If you’re the celebrating type:

Happy Hanukkah!

Merry Christmas!

Joyous Kwanzaa!

Festivus For Rest of Us!

I’ll see you all next year.

PS: If you notice there’s a new icon on the website. It looks like a medal. The blog was named one of the fifty best dating blogs. Yay!

Episode 6: Love, Lust and Guitar Men

December 4, 2016 by Melani 2 Comments

12310413_10153759140209666_1387040911946034718_nMeet Sandy and listen as she takes us through her dating history: guitar men, a comedian and unrequited lust. She tells us what she learned with each guy, and curiously, it was always about herself.

 

 

 

 

Click HERE to listen from the website.

Click HERE to listen on iTunes.

Please rate and review on iTunes. It matters.

Episode 5: Many Thoughts Little Time

November 16, 2016 by Melani Leave a Comment

joelpicMeet Joel, a single, 36-year-old man living near Philly. He tells us about his struggle to have a successful relationship. There are lots and lots and lots of reasons!

Click HERE to listen from this site.

Click HERE to listen on iTunes.

 

I don’t ask much but I would be very grateful if you would rate and review the podcast on iTunes and here’s why. Podcasts with lots of good reviews and rating attract sponsors. With sponsors I can continue to provide you with free entertainment. Producing this podcast costs money and it’s not cheap. I know some of you struggled to find the Rating and Reviews section of iTunes. Here’s how you do it:

  1. Got to this LINK:

2. Once there, clink on the blue “View in iTunes” button on the left.

screen-shot-2016-11-16-at-11-27-50-am

3. Once in iTunes you’ll see three tabs at the top. Click on the “Ratings and Reviews” tab.

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4. Below on the left you’ll find the “Write a Review” button. Click on that and share the love.

Thank you in advance. It matters!

Single Because Podcast is Live

October 12, 2016 by Melani 10 Comments

single-because-podcast_final_lores

Yay, it’s here!

Single Because: True Stories of Love, Dating and Other Misadventures

Here’s what it’s all about:

Single Because…features true stories about the reasons behind a person’s single status. Host Melani Robinson digs deep with guests to get to the heart of their heart while seeking humor in the absurdity that often accompanies love (or lack thereof).

You’ll meet Rick in the first episode: 

Captain Save a Ho 

Rick knows how to tell a story and his colorful dating history has left him with great ones. Vibrators, older women, unexpected drugs, multiple engagements, bad kissers–and he’s just getting warmed up.

Click HERE to listen to the show on iTunes. While you’re there, please subscribe to the show and if you think it’s worthy give it 5 stars and a nice review. It’s important and it doesn’t take much time. 

Check out the Podcast tab on melanirobinson.com for show notes and photos of Rick. If you have an interesting reason behind your single status, shoot me an email at:

singlebecausepodcast@gmail.com.

Shout out to Steve Multner for the fantastic cartoon in the Single Because logo. To see more of Steve’s work, click here.

A Walk Down Bad Memory Lane

August 23, 2016 by Melani 20 Comments

12295397_10208006258376246_3837478106358887835_nMy friend Kim moved out of the city and in the last year we haven’t spent much time together. I was delighted when she emailed to let me know she was coming for a visit and wanted to get together.

Once Kim arrived, and after my dogs stopped behaving like we were getting a visit from the Queen (they shamelessly worship Kim), we decided to head to dinner in my neighborhood and settled on Pomodoro Rosso.

We had a hankering for pasta.

We walked past a wine bar on Columbus. The patio was filled with people pairing the cooler than usual early evening with a glass of wine.

I quickened my pace as we moved by.

“Oh my God, did you see that guy sta…” Kim couldn’t finish her sentence as I interrupted.

“Yep. Saw him. We dated,” was my clipped response.

He was laser-focused and did not attempt to be discrete or even polite.

“I can’t believe the way he was looking at you.”

“Yeah, he’s the testicle guy. Remember that blog post?”

It was a ridiculous story that stood out even in the midst of that absurd year. Many readers shared that it was their all-time favorite.

I suggested he could’ve been staring because I wasn’t wearing makeup and hadn’t done much with my hair. Maybe he couldn’t place me? Or he might’ve been thinking, dodged a bullet with that one.

She did not agree and repeated how intently he was checking me out. Kim asked if I would tell her the story and over my ravioli and her Linguine Frutti di Mare, I did just that.

It’s worth repeating, so here’s an encore of that post.

THE PATIENT

My life has been filled with a regular peppering of experiences—all of my own doing—that leave me with nothing else to say but, “How the fuck did I get myself into this?”

I met Luke after a brief email exchange, and our first date was just for a drink as I had another date for dinner that same evening. He was a gentleman from the moment I arrived: standing as I approached the table, helping me get settled and then ordering my drink. We had a good conversation and I was immediately comfortable in his company.

Luke’s Midwestern roots were obvious in both his no-nonsense conversation and the inflection in his voice. There’s something wholesome about people from the heartland and he was from Iowa. Have you ever met an asshole from Des Moines? By the end of our first date I knew Luke was the sort of guy a woman could count on.

We arranged to see each other again and as I walked to my second date, a few blocks away, I thought about what I was looking for in a partner. Luke certainly fit in most ways. He was handsome, a good father, kind, polite, interesting, successful and well dressed. He was also smart and confident. But there wasn’t an instant physical attraction from my end. There wasn’t a thing wrong with him, so what was wrong with me?

UnknownDate number two was for Cuban food. Luke took me to a fantastic restaurant, Guantanamera. I had a couple of mojitos, a sublime chicken dish and lots of plantains. Everything was perfect, and, again, Luke was great. I couldn’t name one thing that bothered me–I even liked the way he chewed. He gave me a quick kiss goodbye and I walked home with my head filled with questions as to why I didn’t feel what I should with a great guy like Luke. Date number three a week later was for Thai food—a favorite of mine. Everything was just as nice and when Luke suggested we walk along the Hudson after dinner I thought it was a lovely idea. He took my hand as we strolled. It was comforting but still no stomach-churning fireworks. As we meandered through Riverside Park heading towards my street, I stopped him.

“Kiss me. Really kiss me,” and he did.

It was an excellent kiss. A knee-buckling level kiss, and I felt nothing but appreciation for his skills.

During the evening he’d mentioned (twice) that he was going in for minor hernia surgery in two days. Just day-surgery—no big deal, but he didn’t know anyone he could ask to pick him up at the hospital and see him home. They wouldn’t release him without an escort. I knew he was hoping I’d volunteer. I didn’t want to, yet when he dropped me off at my building, I told him I would be happy to come to the surgical center and see that he got home safely. He looked relieved. Why did I do that? Guilt. I felt guilty that I’d gone on three dates with Luke, had an excellent kiss, and still I didn’t have feelings for him. I felt a sort of obligation to do something nice since he’d been so kind to me. I worried that while waiting for passion to develop, I was likely leading him on.

RoosevelthospitalSo, that’s how two days later I found myself entering Roosevelt Hospital and searching for the day surgery area. I had to text Luke the night before and ask for the correct spelling of his last name. It might be weird if the “next of kin” as I was listed on his admission papers didn’t know his surname.

“The family of [last name],” called the clerk.

“The family of [last name],” she said, louder.

“IS THERE ANYONE HERE FOR LUKE [LAST NAME]?”

It finally hit that she was yelling for me. It was show time and the attendant took me back to the recovery area.

“He’s still groggy,” said his nurse, “But go say hi.”

“That’s OK, I’ll just wait here,” I replied, standing outside the curtain.

“Go ahead, it will help him wake up.”

I quietly drew back the curtain.

There was Luke.

And also his scrotum.

He had tossed off the covers and his gown had crept up just far enough for the boys to getman-hospital-gown-1052239 some air. There are some things a person shouldn’t see while casually dating: bank statements, family videos, junk drawers, and testicles. I averted my eyes and I’m not sure Luke was even aware, but it was painfully uncomfortable for me. He was still loopy so I sat in the chair next to the bed while his anesthesia wore off. The nurse was harried as she hurried by and handed me a sponge on a stick in a cup of water. She asked me to wet his mouth.

That act of gingerly touching his lips was bizarrely intimate.

Eventually Luke recovered enough for us to leave. The nurse asked me to help him get dressed. She was slammed. I started to protest and Luke did too.

“It’s not like you haven’t seen it before,” she said with a laugh as she handed me his clothes.

Actually, Nurse, I’ve only seen his balls and that was within the last hour, but why not the penis, too? What the hell–let’s just throw in his ass and the awkward position I’m going to have to be in as I help him into his white briefs since he can’t reach down and put them on himself.

A woman doesn’t expect to find herself in that place until at least the fourth date.

Luke shuffled slowly out of the hospital and I hailed a cab. Once home and settled in bed, I ordered him food to be delivered. The meal would arrive in thirty minutes so in the meantime I took his prescriptions to a nearby pharmacy and waited for them to be filled. Another, “How the hell should I know?” moment happened when the pharmacist asked for the name of his insurance provider. Now, if he’d asked the size and shape of his tally whacker I was golden but those pesky little details like insurance, his middle name, or even his zip code?

For shit’s sake, after the hospital I had only reached one-night-stand-level-intimate.

“I’ll just pay for it.”

I gave Luke his meds, sat with him while he ate then helped him get into something more comfortable. At that point he could’ve just stripped down and let me give him a Brazilian wax I was so accustomed to his nudity. His adult daughter arrived just as I was helping him button his pajama top. She was able to leave work early and as she encountered us, an instant stink eye followed. I didn’t blame her. I was, after all, a complete stranger caring for her father in a very familiar way. If the roles were reversed and Luke was tucking me into bed, my girls (at least Morgan) would’ve pepper-sprayed him.

With his offspring’s arrival it was the perfect time for me to leave. Luke mumbled a thank-you and I told him, no problem. He thanked me again, but didn’t make eye contact and, no surprise, I never heard from him again. I did pass him on the street a couple of months later. We made eye contact and I was just about to offer a greeting when he looked away and quickly moved past. I don’t blame him for being mortified. But I also knew we were more than even.

###

It seems Luke recovered his dignity. At least long enough to stare in a borderline creepy manner. At this point I swear I’ve dated a good portion of the single, age appropriate men in this city, often with untenable outcomes. I guess running into one of those bad memories was bound to happen.

PS- I’m excited to let you know I will be launching a PODCAST in October. I’ve named it:

Single Because…

I’ll be interviewing interesting, often funny people about the reasons they’re single. More information to follow, but if you have a provocative reason behind your singleton status or know someone who does, I’d love to hear the story. Send me an email through the Contact Melani link on this website.

“My friends tell me I have an intimacy problem. But they don’t really know me.” Gary Shandling

 

Where You Been?

July 12, 2016 by Melani 22 Comments

The other day I got a text from a friend:

“Just went to the blog. Are you taking a break from writing?”

Fair question and I rationally replied:

“WHO are YOU, the literary Gestapo?”

I know it’s been a loooooooong time since I’ve written and I would love to tell you it’s because

Ran into Tarzan at Sundance.

Ran into Tarzan at Sundance.

I’m having a crazy, lust filled romance with an age appropriate version of Alexander Skarsgård.

Sadly that’s not the case.

I’ve been struggling to come up with something to write. Although I don’t have writer’s block, per se, my love life hasn’t given me much material to work with. It’s quite yawn inducing even to me—can’t imagine how boring it would be to everyone else.

I had a date with a nice enough guy. He showed up thirty minutes late after multiple text apologies as he made his way to the bar. I find tardiness off-putting and on a first date, it’s downright rude. Although apologetic, his words had a practiced feel to them and I’m not down with someone who’s decided that his time is more important than mine. I also quickly learned that although separated he was not yet divorced. Ugh. We had a drink and I was ready to end our evening. There was definitely not going to be a second date and I offered to split the bill. I had two margaritas, guacamole and chips. He had a few chips but told me he wasn’t a fan of guac.

WHAT???

UnknownHis aversion to a significant part of my favorite cuisine—Mexican–was reason enough to hand him walking papers. I mean really, who doesn’t like guacamole? I’ll tell you: A person with a serious character flaw OR a picky eater–which is even worse. OK, perhaps I’m a little sensitive with the current political climate, because I wanted to ask, “Does your disdain begin and end with fare? How do you feel about walls?” Probably a silly question because I’ve amended my profile to state, “If you’re voting for Trump, we would definitely not be compatible.”

My date also looked at the bill and commented on the TWO margaritas I had consumed. He had only been there for one. What I could’ve said was, “Call the police. I’m a middle aged white chick and don’t fear law enforcement.” Of course that would’ve been silly because he was a cop. I reminded him that I had been waiting a half an hour for his arrival and wasn’t going to be sipping water. He agreed to split the bill, btw. Not quite what I expected and if I had arrived late, I promise I would’ve insisted on paying the entire tab. Then I got up from the bar and realized I was taller by at least two inches. I know, who cares, right? That night, I did.

I had another date recently with a Brit who’s visiting NYC for the summer. When I arrived at the bar, he was sipping water. I ordered a glass of Rosé and he ordered a Coke. No big deal if he’s a teetotaler, but then he proceeded to tell me about a bar he frequents each time he visits. The establishment offers free refills. He told me about how he’ll sit for hours, using the free wifi and watching TV, while sipping on one Coke that is refilled without charge. Lots of “free” in his vocabulary and as my grandmother would to say, “That Cheap Charlie has the firstUnknown-1 nickel he’s ever made.” I realized I was absolutely paying for my glass of wine and decided to order dinner. I made sure to tell him we would have separate checks. He didn’t order food but I shared my steak because I hate to eat alone and his frugality had to be on high alert after Brexit. There’s nothing that gives the thrifty greater anxiety than the threat of truly being broke instead of just living every second of their life that way. Do I even need to tell you there would not be a second date? Didn’t think so.

BUT, I did have an awesome date a few nights ago. The man is a widower. We’re definitely going out again. I have no urge to write about it.

Hmm, wonder what that might mean?

That’s about all that’s happening in my world. I hope you’re having a fabulous summer filled with adventures.

If you aren’t following my Facebook page, I would be over the moon if you could click HERE and show me some love.

“Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination.”  Oscar Wilde

The Spring of My Discontent

March 21, 2016 by Melani 26 Comments

Yesterday was the first day of spring–and it snowed. I can’t think of a more perfect analogy for the current state of my love life.

I’ve been on many first dates lately—all that began brimming with hope and anticipation of possible growth into something more. Rather like the delicate jade-colored leaves that have begun to appear on the honeysuckle vines planted on my terrace. The ones I know will turn a darker shade of green as they grow and cover the trellis just as they did last summer.

FullSizeRender-22There was the date on Valentine’s Day with a lovely man from Boston. Sure the distance was an obstacle but I’d successfully dealt with that before. I was hopeful, but in his desire to learn more he did something I wish he hadn’t: read every single word I’d ever written and thought he knew me. I can always tell when someone has read my stuff. There’s a false familiarity that makes me squirm. I always ask men to hold off on reading my work and instead form an opinion based on our dates, but he was a master Google-er and had done so before our first meeting. He sent me a bouquet of tulips two weeks later when I wasn’t feeling well, (flower choice was prompted by a blog post from two years ago about my late husband giving me tulips). It turned creepy. His intentions were honorable, for sure, but the depth of his digging left me feeling as if he’d rummaged through my underwear drawer or read my diary.

Then there was a douchebag writer who had me fooled for a minute. He asked lots of questions, and after thoughtfully answering each one; he implied that I was monopolizing the conversation. He also got offended when I made a generalization about writers and the reasons I don’t usually date themUnknown. Believe me, my research may not be scientific but I’d bet the farm on its accuracy. Did I mention that he mentioned (four times) that he was in therapy? All within the first thirty minutes of the date, mind you. Or that he made a joke about a well known sexual predator getting sex during a time when he wasn’t getting any at all? Maybe I’m too judgmental because after all he writes comedy and there’s nothing funnier than rape humor, right?

Next I had a date with a kind and handsome man who’d graciously understood when I had to cancel our first date. When we eventually rescheduled I was looking forward to it. Five minutes into our date I knew there was nothing wrong with him but I felt absolutely zero chemistry as we sat next to each other at the bar. He kept brushing my leg with his and at one point took my hand. Awkward. It didn’t help that there was another man who’d passed by on his way to an empty seat and we exchanged mutual holy-shit-you’re-hot eye contact. Each time I glanced that stranger’s way, he was looking at me with the same intensity. I finally turned my chair away from his distracting and enticing gaze so as not to be rude to my date. When our evening ended I split the check. It was fair, as I had no intention of dating him again. He even said, “There’s a theory that when a woman splits the check on a first date there’s not going to be a second.” We parted with a kiss that went quickly from first date appropriate to “Oh god, don’t use your tongue!” I pulled away and headed to my apartment as he waited for an Uber. As I walked I thought about the man at the bar and a missed opportunity. I stopped for a moment and looked back to see if my date had gotten his ride. He hadn’t and caught me looking back. I felt guilty and wondered if he’d figured out I was contemplating a return. I turned and continued to my apartment but once there I asked my doorman for a Post-it and wrote, “I was on a first date but you definitely caught my eye. I think I caught yours, as well. If I’m right, I hope you’ll call.” I signed it, added my cell number and headed back to the bistro, certain that my date’s Uber had arrived. I skulked around the corner and was relieved to see he was gone.

Unfortunately, I discovered the handsome stranger was nowhere to be found either. I asked the bartender if he had moved to the restaurant for dinner. My plan was to walk up to him, hand him the Post-it and exit. He was with a male friend and I had no desire to be intrusive. She told me he and his friend had left. Dammit! She also said, “He’s in here all the time but I think he’s gay.” Perfect. I told her that I believed we had a connection. The restaurant manager (definitely gay) was passing by so the bartender called him over and asked, “Are the guys who were sitting here gay?” He rolled his eyes, “Of course they’re gay.”

Unknown-1There you have it: my guaranteed attraction to a gay man with whom I am certain is straight. It is a theme that started with Boy George, continued to George Michael and is clearly still going strong.

The following day I turned off Discovery on my Tinder and Bumble accounts. If you’re not familiar with the apps, that means my profile is hidden. I’m in need of a break. Early this morning, with my puffer coat covering my pajamas I headed outside to survey the snow damage to those new, fragile honeysuckle leaves. Some had browned overnight as they gave up and succumbed to the freeze, but other tenacious ones were still hanging in there with a defiant “screw you” to the unpredictable elements.

IMG_3965

I sit here at 11:35am (still in my pajamas as I type this). And as it pertains to digital dating and the precariousness of the process, I wonder:

Which leaf am I?

“Spring is nature’s way of saying, ‘Let’s party!'” Robin Williams

A Noun, A Verb And…

February 24, 2016 by Melani 17 Comments

I’m not in the business of making public service blog posts. My goal is to make you laugh and let you know you’re not alone in the absurd world of digital dating. Or, to provide further proof that you’re one of the lucky ones who’s happily paired up—never to return to the insanity of being single and online dating.

I’m going to make an exception this time.

As I’ve written before, I live in an apartment located on the roof of a building on the Upper West Side. Just me, another neighbor and the roof with fifteen floors of many apartments below mine.

imagesLast Thursday night, my youngest daughter Chelsea came over to hang out, do laundry and keep me company. Doing laundry in my building is like cage fighting. Most of the time several machines are out of order. Even when they’re all working (um, almost never) there are too few to accommodate those living in the building. Chelsea has dubbed the laundry room “Thunderdome” for good reason. You’ve got to be a badass to venture down to the basement because it’s the garment version of kill or be killed. (I know, you thought that was Fashion Week.)

Once Chels was able to get all her laundry done, it was late and she opted to sleep on my sofa. She’d been great that night in between loads giving my Norwich terrier Nigel, Pedialyte. He was not feeling well for a few days since I got a new bag of dog food. I was told he might’ve developed an allergy to his food and so I’d been back and forth to the pet store trying to find a flavor of the Blue Wilderness that agreed with his system. He’s not a fan of their salmon, btw. He wasn’t eating or drinking and was lethargic–almost loopy. If he wasn’t any better I was going to take him to the vet the next day.

Chels and I were both asleep around midnight when I was startled awake by an alarm in myimages-1 apartment. It was ringing and also saying, “Warning. Carbon monoxide.” I stumbled out of bed went into the living room and tried to wake up Chelsea. She normally springs right up, even from deep sleep, but this time she was irrational, yelling, “It’s the battery!” I yelled at her to open the terrace door in the living room as I did the same in the bedroom. It was about thirty-four degrees that night. I also called the front desk while opening windows and told the doorman that the detector had gone off. He said he would send the building superintendent upstairs to check. In the meantime, with doors and windows open, the alarm sounded less often and then eventually stopped. The Super arrived, checked to be sure it wasn’t malfunctioning (it wasn’t) and went to check the rooftop boiler as a possible source of carbon monoxide. The boiler room is on the other side of my bedroom wall. He came back and told me he suspected it was the boiler, had shut it down, but if the alarm sounded again, I should get out of the apartment immediately. He suggested we sleep with all the windows open and that he would call the vendor right away for emergency service.

Here’s where I fucked up: I agreed.

The next morning I had an opportunity to educate myself on carbon monoxide poisoning. Thanks, Google. There is no way I should have stayed in the apartment, there is no way I should’ve accepted that the boiler was the possible source, I never should have been OK with simply calling the front desk and Super and certainly shouldn’t have been satisfied with the information that a vendor had been called.

I should’ve immediately called FDNY.

images-2They have the equipment to find the leak, stop it and most importantly the equipment and training to assess my daughter’s and my condition as well as any pets exposed. They would’ve determined if we needed to go to the hospital or at the very least, given us oxygen. They would’ve been able to determine the particles of carbon monoxide in my apartment and if we were safe to sleep in that environment. The first call should have been to them. Now that I clearly understand how deadly the situation was, the incredibly dangerous level it takes for an alarm to sound, I will never make that mistake again. Sure hope I don’t have to.

By the way, the vendor didn’t arrive until noon the following day. Twelve hours after it happened. John, a smug buffoon boiler repairman came into my apartment with a device that looked like a gun with a long thin hose. It measured carbon monoxide particles. He had a look on his face that made me want to slap him. It inferred that I was overreacting by asking him to test my living space and I only knew his name was John because it was scribbled on a jagged piece of white tape, haphazardly stuck to his device. Probably in case he got distracted and misplaced it somewhere—like when he was caucusing for Trump.

To say I’m furious about how this was handled is an understatement. Believe me, I’ve gone all Erin Brocovich on building management.

There is good news, though. Nigel has rallied and is back to being the odd little dude he’sphoto-18 always been. I did not know that some pets are more sensitive to carbon monoxide than others. With Nigel’s reaction I learned that we were gradually being poisoned over several days. Nigel was the canary in the mine.

The day after the leak I noticed in my FB feed that someone’s cousin and five other family members had recently died in their sleep from carbon monoxide poisoning. If you don’t have a carbon monoxide detector in your home, please, please get one. I would also recommend the kind that doesn’t just sound an alarm but tells you whether it’s fire or carbon monoxide. If it had only been ringing, carbon monoxide would never have crossed my mind. I would’ve surmised it was malfunctioning, as there was no smoke. If I had hesitated, gone back to sleep or even tried to disconnect it, it could’ve been too late. Disorientation happens with carbon monoxide poisoning and I don’t think I was clearheaded enough to figure it out without being told.

Morgan could’ve lost her mother and sister in one night. She said if she had gotten that call, she wouldn’t want to live. Imagine getting that call?

On a lighter note, because we’re a family of complete assholes and several days have passed, I laughed out loud last night while on the phone with Morgan. I talked again about the incident and more information I’d read that day. Yeah, I have a tendency to obsess. By about the third new fact Morgan borrowed one of the best lines ever from Joe Biden and said, “Jesus, Mom! You’re like Giuliani. Every sentence is a noun, verb and carbon monoxide!”

She’s right, I’m a lunatic, but just humor me. Right now, walk over to your device and check to make sure it is both fire and a carbon monoxide detector. If so, and yours uses batteries, replace them. If you don’t have one, get it today.

Seriously, just do it.

Giuliani is “probably the most underqualified man since George Bush to seek the presidency,” he says. “Rudy Giuliani – there’s only three things he [needs] to make … a sentence: a noun and a verb and 9/11.” Joe Biden

 

The Hall Pass

January 21, 2016 by Melani 12 Comments

Have you ever had an agreement with a spouse or partner that if the opportunity presented itself, he or she would have permission to have sex with a celebrity? You know, this kind of conversation:

 She: Who’s the celebrity you’d like to have sex with?

He: I don’t want to have sex with anyone but you.

She: Cut the bullshit and tell me who you’re banging?

He: Ok, but you first.

She: Brad Pitt

He: Wow, that was fast. Are you sure? I hear he doesn’t bathe. 

She: Yep, in a heartbeat. Now you.

He: Ok, Scarlett Johansson.

She: Little young, but I get it. Her breasts are amazing.

Then they both agree that if they happen upon that celebrity (and sex is an option) they have a “hall pass” to screw to their heart’s content. Who knows, it may even become a game they play that night? She puts on her Wonder Bra while he calls her “Scarlett” and she asks him to wear a cowboy hat and a look that is a combination of angst and lust as she calls him “Tristan.” 

 LegendsJacket014

We know who’s more imaginative in that fictional relationship, right?

I matched with Sean on Tinder about a week ago. Not only was he handsome, his blurb made me laugh:

Englishman in New York. What does a stranger do in a strange town? Smile first and who knows where it will lead us! Don’t worry…I have my own teeth…Even straight ones.

Having been deluged with opening lines such as:  Hello, Hi, Ur beautiful, we were off to a good start with his:

How can I be smart and witty? I’m English!

(FYI, my blurb states that I’m seeking someone smart and witty.)

Then he followed with:

Btw…Did you manage to get some ointment to cure those nasty blisters you developed on your 3rd photo? Man, they look painful.

 10425052_10205000197346599_2230838253183571010_n

Laughed out loud. Of course, I was a goner. We began a delicious back and forth texting exchange that had me smiling, laughing and stretching my brain to come up with replies that were equally clever.

There is no question I am seduced by words–I’m a writer, it makes sense. “Sapiosexual” is a description I often see in profiles. When I read it an immediate eye roll follows.  It feels like the user is trying too hard to let women know he’s smart, because what dummy is turned on by intellect? Whatever, dude, don’t tell me. Show me. I guess when reflecting, I’m Sapiosexual-ish. Intelligence is a huge turn on but my guy’s got to be funny AND physically attractive (only by my standards, of course). Then we have to have that tiny little thing of mutual chemistry. Might explain my perpetual search, right?

Well, Sean was the whole package and I was hoping he’d ask me out to see if we had the chemical magic. Then I learned some disappointing information.

 IMG_3741

 I asked him, “Why do men cheat?”

 He avoided the question so I asked again.

IMG_3742

And quickly followed with the text below. (I’ve deleted his name following the comma after “you” because you know I change all names):

IMG_3743

Finally Sean decided to answer my question. He told me he didn’t want it to sound like the predictable, “My wife doesn’t understand me,” and also made sure to emphasize, “Now that I know I won’t be maneuvering into your panties, why would I lie?”

 True dat.

He explained that his girlfriend and he hadn’t had sex for two years. It became too painful for her after menopause. She also has zero desire. She tried hormone replacement, which made her lethargic and gain weight. She’s now given up. He added 1:3 women are impacted in this way. He’s right about that number.

Sean told me, “I love her. She’s my best friend, but I still miss sex.”

Before this trip she said she wouldn’t be checking up on him and he should do what he wants when he’s away.

Sean was given a most unusual hall pass—a generosity I probably wouldn’t be capable of bestowing upon my partner.

I told him there are many options she’s not tried and began to list a few. He asked if I would be willing to meet him for coffee and conversation and added that he understood it was strictly platonic.

Guess what? I met him.

Unknown-4We went to my favorite neighborhood bistro, sat at the bar and talked about everything. It was the most honest, open and frank conversation I’ve ever had with a complete stranger. Three hours of deep subjects, lots of laughter and three glasses each of delicious rosé. It was real, gritty and refreshing.

 

Then Al Pacino walked in for a late lunch.

 No, seriously, I swear.

 Al flippin’ Pacino!

All alone. Wearing that jacked up headband, too.Al+Pacino+65th+Annual+Tony+Awards+eivQzO59HbRl

We were sitting at the bar and he took a booth in the corner of the restaurant. We were briefly intrigued but the thing about New York City is celebrities are usually left alone. Perhaps it’s that New Yorkers are a tough crowd and few things (or people) impress them? I’m not sure but I will say that I regularly see famous people and nobody is bugging them for an autograph or selfie.

Sean and I turned away from Serpico finished our third glass of wine, talked more. We have decided to be friends and I hope he contacts me again the next time he’s in New York City. I also hope he is able to talk his girlfriend into trying the different options I suggested. If I had no sex drive I would be all over it. If Sean were my boyfriend, he’d have no need for a hall pass.

Ever.

Even with Scarlett Johansson.

“I hope they make a video game of me. At least I wouldn’t have any cellulite then.”  Scarlett Johansson

Merry Flannel Christmas

December 13, 2015 by Melani 42 Comments

It’s almost Christmas, I haven’t gotten a tree and the most I’ve done is drag my decorations out of storage. Actually, I didn’t even do that. Chelsea came over and was kind to her mama. For the last week, multiple bins have been stacked in my already small apartment. I frequently bump them when I stumble to the kitchen in the middle of the night to get water. I scream, “FUUUUUUCK!” (Sounding distinctly like Regan in “The Exorcist”), I diligently study my toe to be sure I don’t need to snap it back into place and slowly limp back to bed.

I’m trying to gather the energy to do the decorating but NYC isn’t exactly cooperating. Today it’s 61 degrees. Seasons are new to me since moving from the desert, and dammit, I want my Christmas cold. I’m also having an, um, “crisis of conscience” over the tree. Ok, that’s probably not how most would define it but those friggin’ tree vendors want to charge $90 for a five-footTree Lot tree. I could buy two coats for the homeless with that money! I walk by lots on the sidewalks of my neighborhood, spy the perfect mini pine and ask the cost. The price never changes but I find my reaction getting more dramatic. The first time I pointed, feigned surprise and said, “Oh, ninety dollars for that tree?” a few days later it was, “WOW! Price jump this year?” And it’s now morphed into a spectacle that includes reeling back from the tree (like it’s covered in ticks) the requisite exaggerated shock, Whaaaaat?!” Followed rapidly by, “That’s insane!” as I walk away vigorously shaking my head with such flair that I am quite sure others on the street are thinking the same of me.

Kate and Nig

“She’s such an asshole.”

I do this most mornings as I return from Central Park and have no clue why. Do I think there will be a Tuesday flash evergreen sale? Am I hoping the seller will be less shady on Wednesday? It’s gotten so bad that Kate and Nigel pull to cross the street as we near the tree lots.

When dogs get embarrassed, you’re clearly an asshole.

 

There’s probably more to this than a stupid overpriced New York City Christmas tree.

 

I’m pretty sure there’s more.

Ok, there’s definitely more.

I’m single again.

Flannel PJs

My girls and I have a tradition on Christmas Eve. We call it Flannel Pajama Christmas. Now, this isn’t a longstanding practice but one we made up last year. Here’s how it goes. We get in our pajamas on Christmas Eve around noon. I prepare a spectacular feast of only our favorite things and we eat together in a relaxed, laidback way—avoiding the pomp that has always accompanied our Christmas Eves.

It was an ordeal that included large groups of friends and neighbors, a lavish (yet tastefully) decorated Pinterest-worthy table, and a hell of a lot of stress. Last year we made the decision to take it down a colossal notch and it was perfect. I think it will guide-to-hosting-an-unforgettable-christmas-party-at-your-ottawa-apartment-624x472now be a family tradition long after I’m gone. Imagine that? My grandchildren, their children and their children’s children eating their meal in flannel pajamas on Christmas Eve and maybe remembering their odd great, or great, great grandmother who started the awesome folly? Or they’ll hate it and curse me, but I’ll be dead so who cares?

 

We also have included the movie “Love Actually” as part of the evening. Others, too, but that is the first one we watch—with plates propped on our laps.

(This is all my transition to the breakup, so hang in there. You know I always weave it around and then back again.)

If you’ve watched the movie you’ll remember the scene when Jamie (Colin Firth) and Aurélia (Lucia Moniz) have a conversation in different languages and don’t understand what the other is saying. Here’s the scene:

In the movie they find a way around their cultural differences, both learn a little of the other’s language and it ends with a proposal. Yeah, that’s the cinematic version. Unfortunately, it didn’t end that way in my relationship. He didn’t understand me. Although we were speaking English, we needed subtitles.

He gave me a book hoping it would lead to a better understanding of his world.

French book

I read it, gained insight into the many subtleties of French culture, but unfortunately, I didn’t have a handbook for mine. He has been in the U.S. for eight years but has dealt primarily with French clients. Americans were in general confusing, he proclaimed. He said we were very similar to Brits in that we say one thing but there’s another meaning, an almost false politeness.

Now, you know I’m direct, often blunt, but I realize he was right. There are many nuanced meanings to conversations that would be difficult to understand. For example, when I say, “Oh, you’re tired—again. You’ve been yawning during every conversation this week. Why don’t we get off the phone so you can sleep.” What I’m really saying is, “I’m sick of you being tired so don’t call me and yawn in my ear because it’s rude and annoying.” But that message didn’t register, he insisted we continue to talk, the yawning persisted and I ended up feeling aggravated. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Again, that’s one tiny example.

He also didn’t know I was funny. I have the ability to deliver a quick comeback or observation that (if you will pardon the bragging) is goddamn funny. He never got it. I continued to “think funny” but stopped verbalizing. What was the point? I realized that not only does the person  I’m with have to make me laugh (and he did); he also has to crack up at my jokes. Period. No exceptions.

Bottom-line: we were speaking the same language but weren’t talking the same lingo.

There is no bad guy in this breakup. I care deeply for him but I am certain the longer we were a couple, the more frustrating it would become. We were together for six months and I began to feel that “I’m about to jump out of my skin” sort of sensation, regularly. He said (when he realized I was getting aggravated), “Let’s have this conversation in French and see how clear it is to you!” That was fair and he was absolutely right.

I want to be honest. I miss him and my Christmas tree lot behavior probably has little to do with the rip-off $90 five-foot tree. Although this was the right decision, it doesn’t make it easy. I have been alone for a long, long time and being with him made me realize how much I’ve missed having a partner. It was comforting and good in many ways.

04-the-costumes-1024So, on Christmas Eve, in my flannel pajamas with my girls present AND Morgan’s boyfriend (hey, we’re not completely “Grey Gardens”), I’ll watch “Love Actually” with new eyes.

I’ll see the scene I shared above that always makes me laugh, but it will also be poignant this year. I’ll understand the importance of language in a relationship and my desire to be understood. Not simply using a translation tool but on a deeper level. I have discovered I am the sort of person needing one hundred percent comprehension.

I’ll probably buy that tree this week, too.Tree lot 2

“Falling in love and having a relationship are two different things.” Keanu Reeves

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My name is Melani Robinson and I’m a writer/blogger, and online dating expert living in New York City on the Upper West Side. READ MORE

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