Living Happily Ever After
test123

Blog Articles

Bachelor #13: Mr. Hostile

Date: July 8, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I have attended singles functions the past several months because…I’m single. If I stopped to analyze it, I guess I’m going to meet people and make friends. However, in the wake of the trauma I lived through discovering my spouse had betrayed me and neighbors and friends and relatives and strangers, in the aftermath of our divorce and our move to Utah and my return to the workforce full-time, I never let myself think about my purpose or motivation in going, or anything else related to being single. I just went.

So I can’t imagine what some people think of me.

There I am, at a singles function, with 99% of the people probably in attendance to meet members of the opposite sex, and I freeze (like a deer caught in headlights) every time a man asks for my phone number!

I stammer. I am not quite sure what to say. I’m shocked. I’m surprised. And I’m embarrassed. I don’t want to be seen giving out my phone number. Yet…don’t I go there to meet people and have social experiences? Clearly, I haven’t thought the whole thing through very well.

That’s how I met the man who would become Bachelor #13.

He wasn’t bad looking; he was tall; he had hair; he was educated; he had six children. And he was really pressing me for my phone number! In fact, he got out his phone to enter my contact info as we stood on the dance floor. I could have died! I asked him to put his phone away.

He obliged, but asked me for my business card. (Just my luck, my company hadn’t ordered mine yet so I had nothing like that to give him.) He began reaching for his phone again so I had to think quickly before he pulled his phone out in front of everyone again.

Instead, I asked if he had a business card and told him if he gave me one, I’d contact him and give him my information. (I’m a loser at some of this stuff, I admit it!)

He gave me his card. A few days later, I followed through on my commitment to contact him. I wasn’t sure what I was getting myself into. I didn’t know what to expect. All I know is I didn’t expect the full court press he gave me.

Bachelor #13 began calling all of the time, emailing every day, texting me constantly, and asking me out. I tried to keep an open mind about the whole thing, but something wasn’t quite right and I couldn’t put my finger on it. It was just an impression I had. As a result, my inclination was to take it slow. So that’s what I attempted to do. Much to Bachelor #13′s chagrin.

His constant presence in my life was too much too soon. After working all day, I needed to be free to spend time with my children and chat with them during the rest of their waking hours. I asked Bachelor #13 to please call me after 9:30 p.m. at night so I’d have time to spend time with my children, check their homework, and get them all taken care of and in bed before I became inaccessible because I was on the phone.

It seemed like he couldn’t wait that long. The phone calls came anyway.

So I told him my evenings were a bit more complicated than I’d anticipated; email was probably the best way to reach me.

Within a few days, I got a very hostile but anonymous text to my cell phone. The text message ranted and raved about how inaccessible I made myself, about how uninterested in men I must be to limit contact (outside of dates) to email and phone calls and only after a certain time of day. Then the text told me I was missing out, that he was the best thing that had ever happened to me, the best thing that would ever happen to me, and that I was an idiot. The message ended by saying, “And the best part about this? You don’t even know WHO this is!”

Yes, I had a pretty good idea who it was. I may be an idiot, but I’m not stupid! It was Bachelor #13. He was the only man that I knew of, at the time, who had my contact info and was upset that I couldn’t or wouldn’t use it all hours of the day and night, and at the expense of my job and family!

That was the end of Bachelor #13.

I’ve seen him a few times since then but he won’t speak to me; he pretends not to know who I am when I say hello. So since he won’t speak to me, I’ll speak for him. This is what I imagine he’d say:

“I’m hostile to men, I’m hostile to women, I’m hostile to cats, to poor cockroaches, I’m afraid of horses.” (Norman Mailer)

With Bachelor #13, I’m not sure who dumped who. I’m just grateful it happened.

Life’s too short to lash out like that. And only cowards won’t sign their name.

—Andrea

Bachelor #12: Mr. Meditation

Date: July 5, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I was in yoga the other day. I was in full lotus position. My chakras were all aligned. My mind is cleared of all clatter and I’m looking out of my third eye and everything that I’m supposed to be doing. It’s amazing what comes up, when you sit in that silence. ‘Mama keeps whites bright like the sunlight, Mama’s got the magic of Clorox 2.’” (Ellen DeGeneres)

Bachelor #12.

I think we all go through a stage, or have moments, of nerdiness as we grow up. And then there are some that never quite outgrow it. THAT was Bachelor #12; nice, but totally nerdy, although from a very prominent political family–U.S. Senators and state representatives are his family members! When he asked me out I said yes, partly because he was a nice man, partly because I admired his courage…or maybe it was the revelation of his third eye that I found so irresistible?

Right away, he asked me my “story” (how long had I been divorced, why did I divorce, where is my former spouse, all of the usual questions) as we drove to a restaurant for dinner. I was upfront about it all and poor Bachelor #12 was completely blown away by every aspect of my divorce and life! My story was too much for him. I could tell it was completely unexpected in his realm of existence, just as it had been in mine–until it happened to me.

Frankly, I was surprised he didn’t turn the car right around and take me home BEFORE dinner. But like I said, he was a very nice man. He bravely soldiered on through sharing a meal with me. In fact, we ate dinner, talked until the restaurant closed and the staff finally kicked us out. He did most of the talking.

He told me about challenges he faces every day dealing with..mental illness. That his father suffered from mental illness his entire life until he committed suicide while Bachelor #12 was a teenager. About a sibling with schizophrenia so severe the sibling has spent most of his life in an institution. That another sibling committed suicide as a teenager as well.

I sat there, listening to Bachelor #12′s family history all through dinner, and had three thoughts. First, “That poor family!” Second, “This man is from a very genetically challenged family! I don’t think I want to align myself with that.” And third, “I think these things can be genetic, I wonder if Bachelor #12 suffers from similar challenges?”

My last question was answered almost as soon as I thought it as Bachelor #12 detailed all of the negative mental energy he battles on a daily basis and how he handles it–with serious meditation, keeping in touch with his chakras, chanting, and using the little “instruments” and “spinners” that make noises (I can’t remember what he said they are called.)

As he took me home at the end of the night, I was already planning and worrying about how I could kindly decline any future invitations. I had enough challenges in my own life without adding someone’s negative mental energy to the mix.

But guess what? Bachelor #12 never called ME again! I didn’t expect that. Dumped, by the mentally ill. I never expected that either!

I had to shake my head and laugh at that one.

I have run into Bachelor #12 at singles events several times since that fateful first, and last, “courtesy” date I embarked on. But each time I’ve seen him, HE pretends not to know ME! I NEVER expected THAT! I have to shake my head and laugh at that too. Apparently I’m so uninteresting that I don’t rate even the offer of a second date by a mentally-challenged man!

Either that, or my former life got in the way again. It happens occasionally. Proving, perhaps, that the secret of dating, or, “The secret of having a personal life is not answering too many questions about it.” (Joan Collins)

So long, Bachelor #12.

As for me, I’ll cling to the hope that someone someday realizes, “Mama’s got the magic”! And if I’m lucky, maybe he’ll be oozing positive mental energy to boot.

Bachelor #10: The Importance of “Game”

Date: July 2, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I’m physically quite fit at the moment, and the leg was fine. The game wasn’t quite there.” (Ernie Els)

When I think of Bachelor #10, “game” comes to mind. Keep reading and you’ll find out why.

I met him online. He was from Idaho, but came to Utah a lot. He was a confident, somewhat brash salesman who said everything he thought. He preferred to talk on the phone and text. So he contacted me that way, even before we met in person. But he had some concerns.

First, he wanted to know if I really looked like the pictures I had posted.

When I asked what he meant by that, he said it looked like I had cropped my photos very creatively and he wanted to make sure I wasn’t 600 pounds in real life. Why had I only shown my face?

There was only one response to that. He had found me out.

I HAD intentionally cropped the pictures I posted but not for the reasons Bachelor #10 feared–but to crop my children out of them!

Because I am a mother, I didn’t have a single photo of me alone. (Why would I want one? I love my children!) And although some people posted pictures of their children online, I intentionally did not. Cropping issue resolved. But I was a little bit bothered by his “shallowness.” Who really thinks that way? I guess I still had a lot to learn about being single back then.

Second issue: my children.

Bachelor #10 wanted to know the ages of my children. At the time, they were 16, 14, 10 and 4. He choked when he heard the age of the four-year-old, but by then, I was pretty used to that.

“You’re 42 and you have a four-year-old?” he asked. “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?”

What was I thinking? I was thinking that I believed in love, marriage and families. That I loved being a wife, a mother, and parenting my children. I believed I was happily married to a good man who was as devoted to our family as I was. That I wanted another child; that we could afford another child. (You see, I was getting the same “fake” investment statements my former spouse was sending to everyone else. Over the years we’d been married, I had watched our savings and investments “grow” just as every other victim of my former spouse’s Ponzi scheme had. At the time, I thought we had approximately $8 million dollars invested. I thought we could certainly afford another child!)

Those were just some of my thoughts.

I certainly was NOT thinking that I was going to be left penniless, divorced, single, and alone to raise four children!

All right, and I admit it, I was thinking (or hoping) that having a child in my late 30s would help keep me young!

Third issue: money. Bachelor #10 wanted to make sure that my children were taken care of financially. By someone else.

Nope. But he drove down and took me on a date anyway. Meeting him in person was interesting. It was a night full of revelations.

First of all, he was a large man. Especially in the vicinity of the stomach area. When I saw him I was stunned that he had been so concerned about the cropping of my photos and so particular about my possible size, when he clearly had already beat me in that area!

He was friendly and outgoing, though. And he continued to share his thoughts about…fidelity.

He told me he had been unfaithful to his wife once, had confessed to her what he had done, and they had repaired the marriage. Was that a problem for me? I tried to keep an open mind. After all, it was only one date. I said no, that was not a problem for me.

Then he revealed he had also had an affair with a different woman while he was married, but eventually felt guilty and confessed to his wife what he had done and they had repaired the marriage. Was an actual extra-marital affair a problem for me? (Keep that mind open, Andrea.) I said we were simply on one date, it was not a problem for me.

He may have mentioned additional indiscretions. I can’t remember now. But at end of the date, Bachelor #10 decided to lay it all on the line. He won me over with his last revelation. He told me he was still married! Was that a problem for me? THAT was a PROBLEM for ME. Because, “Men play the game; women know the score.” (Roger Woddis)

The best part of the date, however, happened when it was over. I went into my house, shut the door, and got a text soon after. It was Bachelor #10. I wondered if he was texting me from my driveway! He wanted to know one thing. “Do I got game?”

I couldn’t believe he had the nerve to ask a question like that after revealing not only multiple infidelities, but that he was still married! No, there was no game. Not only do I not play games, I especially don’t play games with married men.

I didn’t bother to respond.

I went to work the next day and asked my hip, younger co-workers what Bachelor #10 could possibly have meant by that last question (just to make sure I hadn’t misunderstood.) They explained, “He wants to know if he’s a player, if you’re into him, if you like him, if he has mojo, if you’re going to date him again.”

Nope.

Bachelor #10 texted me a few times after that, but I never responded. I think he eventually got the message that he did not have game and that even if he had game, I wasn’t going to be a part of it.

Goodbye Bachelor #10. Take your “game” someplace else.

“By the time the fool has learned the game, the players have dispersed.” (African Proverb)

Bachelor #9: Mr. Universe

Date: June 29, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

Bachelor #9 planned some fun dates–like skiing in Park City. But he was too impatient for my taste. And I wasn’t impatient enough for his!

Although he was a father, he couldn’t seem to grasp what it meant to date a mother. He wanted to call, talk, text, date or email ALL of the time. I just couldn’t do that. And because I couldn’t spend a lot of time doing things like that, because I needed to spend time with my children when I wasn’t working full-time, he dumped me.

“I can tell you’re just not that into me. If you liked me, if you were really interested in me, you’d make more time for me.”

You know, he was probably right.

But his parting comment made me laugh. “Have a nice life. Good luck finding a man willing to accept so little time and effort from you.”

If he only knew, huh? I devoted the time and effort to dating that I thought my family could spare. It’s simply that all of my effort wasn’t focused solely on him! What Bachelor #9 needed was to be the center of a woman’s universe. (I don’t blame him for wanting that at all, by the way.)

Unfortunately, “The Universe has as many different centers as there are living beings in it” (Alexander Solzhenitsyn)

And I guess there just wasn’t the time or interest, on my part, to make him mine.

Farewell, Bachelor #9.

Bachelor #8: The Stalker

Date: June 28, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

Back in my old life, in Colorado as the stay-at-home mother of four children and the wife of a respected investment advisor, religious leader and upstanding member of the community, married for 20 years, etc…I got a kick out a song by Goldfinger. I think it was called “Stalker.”

My teenage son introduced it to me. He used to play it for me, we’d sing along with it in the car, laugh and dance to it in the kitchen, and were entertained by the lyrics every time we heard them.

“Uh-oh-oh she’s following me. Uh-oh-oh she’s out of her tree.Uh-oh-oh she’s off of her rocker. I wanna marry my stalker.”

I just never expected my spouse would one day reveal to me that he had been running a Ponzi scheme for most of our marriage, that he was heading to prison and that I would be left alone to raise our four children. I never expected my unexpected life. And I certainly NEVER expected to one day have my own stalker.

Bachelor #8.

He was probably the only true bachelor I’ve dated. He was 46 years old and had never been married. He also earned the well-deserved title of Stalker, according to my friends, family and children.

“A stalker will look for any kind of attention, positive or negative. A vast majority of them don’t see themselves as stalkers.”~ Jill McArthur

I met him online.

I should have known his type–I saw him looking at me, or my profile online, 30-50 times over the course of several weeks yet he never contacted me. Not one word. I couldn’t figure out why some random stranger would look at my picture or information so frequently. I finally figured it out, though. I think that’s what they call online stalking! Lol.

Eventually, he contacted me. Called me. Asked me to dinner. We met at a restaurant and I confess, when I finally met him in person, I asked him about his propensity to view photos and profiles so often for so long yet never contact the people he was viewing. He told me he was “just bored.”

I guess it’s true: “A vast majority of them don’t see themselves as stalkers.”

After we were seated on our first date, we started comparing notes and realized we’d lived at the same apartment complex while attending the same university. I’d even worked in the office of the apartment complex and had taken his rent! We remembered a lot of the same people. It was 20 years later, so his face wasn’t familiar to me, but I knew who his roommates had been. We had 20 years of catching up to do.

Instead, he looked right at me and said, “I know EXACTLY who you are!”

Chilling. Even, or especially from, a stalker.

My heart sank to the pit of my stomach. I had distanced myself from every part of my old life. I had even moved to a new state where I didn’t know anyone. I lived quietly, under the radar, intentionally. I was trying to make a fresh start for my children and myself, far removed from the taint of a former family member accused of bilking clients out of millions of dollars through his Ponzi scheme. And in that moment I felt it was all for naught.

In my new city, in my new state, living my new life, I met a random “stranger” and my cover was blown.

Bachelor #8 had known my ex-husband and had been on business in Denver, CO, when news of Shawn Merriman’s Ponzi scheme and his criminal behavior broke and our assets were seized. Bachelor #8 had watched it all on the news. He put the details together while sitting in the restaurant with me.

He had a lot of questions. He grilled me about the Ponzi scheme, about how I could not have known what was going on, about my 20-year marriage, and appeared very skeptical of every answer I gave. It felt like Bachelor #8 was “good cop” AND “bad cop,” when all I was looking for was a social experience!

His side of the conversation consisted of comments about how while I had been married for 20 years, he had been doing the very same thing we were doing that night over and over again for the same amount of time. He told me he was sick of dating, tired of first dates, sick of getting to know new people, uninterested in the lives and stories of others, that everyone was the same and had the same story (I begged to differ on that one–I do not believe every single woman has an experience and a story like mine, but that’s just my opinion!) and he abhorred all of the “game playing” that was dating.

I couldn’t figure out why he had asked me out! And why he sat there, telling his date, me, that he hated what we were doing, didn’t want to get to know me, that he had heard everything I was going to say already before, and that he didn’t care about the details of my life.

It was the craziest first date I’ve ever been on, and all quite unexpected as a 42-year-old returning to dating after two decades of marriage.

The evening ended, I went home, walked up to my room and said to myself, “That was one of those ‘catch-up’ dates–what have you done the past 20 years? But I know I’ll never hear from him again!”

He called me the next morning at 9 a.m. and asked me out again for that night.

I couldn’t go. But my stalker didn’t give up. He called or texted me several times a week for the next few months. He asked me out when he came to town. If I couldn’t go out with him, he’d ask, “Why can’t you go? You got a date, don’t you?” And when I admitted the reason for my unavailability, he wanted to know all about the man I would be with and what we were doing–and then he’d text me throughout my date with the other man!

“Where are you?”

“What are you doing?”

“What restaurant are you at?”

“Do you like Mr. A.F.?” (He always named every one of my dates–Mr. A.F., Springville Guy, Tall Guy, Mr. P.G., etc…)

“What are you doing now?”

“You kiss him yet?”

Etc…

When he asked me a question, and if I answered it, he’d always argue with me about my answer.

One night we went to an Italian restaurant for dinner. On the way home, he suddenly decided he wasn’t taking me home. Instead, he was taking me to the grocery store. The grocery store? I told him I didn’t want to go. He argued with me about that. I told him I didn’t need to go. He argued with me about that. I told him I wasn’t going to go. He just kept driving. He told me I was a single mom and single moms always needed food and always needed to go to the grocery store and buy food. He told me I could shop in peace, and he would follow along and push the cart for me. I had no course but to settle in for the drive to the grocery store. My stalker was as stubborn as they come.

At the grocery store he insisted I shop for what I needed. I didn’t really need anything–except groceries for the dinner I was making for Bachelor #7 the next night, so I finally thought, “What the heck? He won’t take no for an answer, he made me come here, he won’t let me leave until I shop, so I guess I’ll buy food for tomorrow night’s date!” And that’s exactly what I did.

Bachelor #8 followed me through the store, pushed the cart, gave me recipes he insisted I cook (and texted and emailed me several times to see if I’d cooked what he told me to cook–I never had), and even threw a few ingredients I absolutely DID NOT WANT (and later threw away because Bachelor #8 would not let me leave the store without the items he insisted I try) into the cart. After checking out, he loaded the sacks into his truck and drove me home. On the way to my home he instructed me to call my teenage son and tell him to meet us outside to haul the groceries into the house for me.

THAT bothered me. I didn’t introduce my children to the men I dated. I didn’t even let them see each other, usually. I argued against it, but my stalker insisted, so I made the call. I knew better than to try to argue with him.

My son and a nephew came out, met Bachelor #8, hauled in the groceries and were very quiet about him to me, but they did not become his fans! In fact, goodwill toward Bachelor #8 spread throughout the household. I don’t know what was said between brother and sister, but my teenage daughter started patrolling my phone, checking my texts, grabbing my phone if it rang, and if she saw it was my stalker, she would demand I not answer the phone! Bachelor #8 could have used some serious help from Dale Carnegie on “How To Win Friends And Influence People” at the Merriman house. At least with its teenagers!

Off and on, Bachelor #8 would continue to visit my profile. His views crept into the triple digits. I could NOT figure out what he was doing online at my profile so often! If I got online to check messages, he’d start IM chats with me and grill me about men I was dating, or argue with me about something. But he always called when he came to town and offered to take me out. (I should say he was progressively more cheerful and positive as the weeks went on. He was nicer and friendlier with each successive date. He was even funny sometimes. It was just that crazy stalking tendancy that was the issue. That, and the fact that besides me not being interested romantically or long term in Bachelor #8, he and my children would NEVER have meshed. At all.)

Eventually, one night he proposed marriage. In a roundabout way he admitted he didn’t love me, but firmly believed two good people, with the same beliefs and values, could marry, make it work and have a happy life together. I didn’t just say no to the proposal. I told him NO WAY. And of course, true to form, he argued with me about my answer!

He argued for my acceptance of the proposal. I absolutely argued against it. In the end, I told him I believed his theory could work but that I didn’t want to test it myself. I wanted more for me. I felt I was too young to settle for anything less than my ideal. I was holding out for love.

I still believe in love. I still believe in fairy tales. And I’m still waiting for my happily ever after ending. (Boy. I say that so often it’s almost as if it’s my mantra! Lol.)

But maybe, just maybe, if I say it often enough or long enough, it will eventually come true for me.

Finally, the stalking of my stalker, Bachelor #8, ran it’s course. I got busy with other people, and Bachelor #8 went on a date with someone else. (And called to tell me about it afterward.) I didn’t hear much from my stalker after that…until I started this blog.

Bachelor #8 found it, contacted me, and argued with me about my blog. He argued against my blog with everything he had. When all of that failed, he brought up the safety of my children (he knows how to cut right to the heart of a mother, huh?) and every other thing he could think of to dissuade me in relation to blogging.

But in the end, as in many other times in my life, past and particularly present, I had to stand alone and do what I thought was best for me. (And my children.) And do you know what? I’m still blogging. It has been five whole months of writing and my children and I are not only safe, we’re better and happier than ever!

Who said stalkers know best?

I only know this: “But I do know people that have stalkers and it’s not nice.” (Daniel Craig)

On to Bachelor #9.

Bachelor #7: The Tallest Man in The World

Date: June 27, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

The one thing you could call my new life is unexpected. Definitely.

And if you were going to name my divorce anything, aside from unexpected (definitely), I would say it should be called, “The Divorce of Dating Basketball Players.” Bachelor #7 is just one more reason why.

When I was single the first time, in the beloved 1980s, I loved athletes and tall men. I dated some basketball players, football players, golfers, swimmers, rugby players, baseball players, volleyball players, even a gymnast (that is a blog in itself!); but the tallest guy I ever dated was a 6’8″ U.S. Olympic Volleyball player. My divorce changed all of that.

My divorce of Dating Former Basketball Players.

Now the tallest man I’ve ever dated is a 6’9″ former college basketball player.

Hello, Bachelor #7.

He was a very handsome, very fit, very nice man who had been married even longer than I had been. (I didn’t meet many men who had been married to the same woman for 20 years or longer.) He had a good job, financial stability and owned his own home. (Also not that common, in my single experience.) Our birthdays were one month apart. He loved to travel and spoke Spanish. His kids were in college, he had a very carefree existence and worked out two hours every day at the gym. (Who has time for that? A single man!)

The usual first date conversation always included questions about how long you were married, why you got divorced and when you got divorced. Bachelor #7 didn’t ask me any of that. So I asked him. He hesitated on that last question. He looked at me, sheepishly, and told me I didn’t want to know when he’d divorced. Of course, then, I had to know.

Hesitatingly, he said, “June 2009.” He didn’t want to tell me when he’d divorced because it had occurred so “recently.” He was afraid I’d run the other way. I just laughed. And he was the one who laughed when I told him I’d divorced even more recently than that–July 2009!

Neither of us had met anyone as new to everything that was the unexpected, single life as we both were. Our inexperience bonded us. We laughed a lot and had a lot of fun. We helped each other adjust. We helped each other heal.

He introduced me to his passion: scuba diving.

He even took me to his work parties. Talk about pressure! Going on a date and knowing your behavior could positively or negatively impact a man’s career! THAT was a lot of trust he placed in me. We joked about that–and that fact that we hoped my leopard-print heels and friendly conversation got him a promotion! (I’ll say one thing about Bachelor #7. It was so nice to wear any heel of any height and not worry about my height. Even at 5’9″ and in heels, I never even got close to being able to see over his shoulder!)

It was definitely a relationship of “opposites attract.” Those who know me best know how absolutely un-technological I am, especially when it comes to computers. Bachelor #7 was an I.T. guy!

We were at the same stage of divorce recovery–happy being single, not anxious to get married the first year after our divorce, but neither of us wanted to be single three years later. (Aren’t we particular? I hope our plans work out for us! Lol.)

We went through some “firsts” together, too, like first Thanksgiving, first Christmas, first New Year’s Eve single again, going on a date on his original wedding anniversary, etc… Yet he could never quite get past the fact that I had “four children and not one of them were his.” (His words.)

I could not get past his height, believe it or not (and one or two other less shallow things!) Anyone who knows me knows I LOVE height. So I was shocked to discover I eventually thought he was too tall! I didn’t like having to hold my arm “up” when he held my hand. I wasn’t used to that. The voice of experience, (my teenage son) told me to get over it; “welcome to the world of how it is for most women, or short women, when they hold hands with someone.”

But I couldn’t. As Julia Roberts said, “I’m too tall to be a girl. I’m between a chick and a broad.”

I couldn’t get over that, or the sense that Bachelor #7 just wasn’t that into the idea of raising a four-year-old. I couldn’t blame him. He’s turning 50 this year!

We dated about five months and just drifted apart. I guess I got busy with other things (other people.) He finally asked if I’d met someone. I responded to that query in my usual way of responding to something I don’t want to–I ignored it and didn’t respond! Instead, I lined him up with a friend of mine.

I hope they hit it off.

Adios, to the tallest man in MY world! Adios, Bachelor #7.

Bachelor #6: The Ghostbuster

Date: June 27, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Computer dating is fine… if you’re a computer.” ~ Rita Mae Brown

I met Bachelor #6, a former semi-pro basketball player, online. He was friendly, funny and had led a very interesting and colorful life.

I was upfront about having four children. His response? “No problem, I love children. I have three daughters of my own and the last woman I was married to had six kids!”

The LAST woman he had married? I asked for clarification on that, he said he didn’t want to scare me off, but he admitted to having been married twice already.

My perspective of marriage and dating had changed a lot after being single and meeting other singles. What in my experience most of my adult life had not been that common (divorce), was now very common in my new world. And what was becoming almost the norm for most men I met, was having been married and divorced more than once. I tried to keep an open mind. After all, that is what I expected people to have about me.

Then I moved on to the big one. The part about me having a former spouse in prison. For many, that can be a deal breaker. (And I blame no one who finds that it is. Until I became the unaware and innocent spouse of a man who confessed to running a Ponzi scheme and was now imprisoned, I would have felt the same way, I’m sure!) It was best to get the bigger details of my life out into the open right away.

Bachelor #6 took the criminal behavior of my former spouse in stride. He told me most people would judge me about that, but not him. He felt only one perfect person had ever lived on the earth and only one person was qualified to judge others. Besides, he had relatives in prison!

Was he meant for me or what? Lol.

He was a GREAT storyteller and had a lot of good stories (mostly based on his life and his experiences.) He lived in his own place, but cooked dinner for his parents who lived in the same town every night. And..he believed in ghosts! He had lived with one and talked to it. A lot.

“An idea, like a ghost, must be spoken to a little before it will explain itself.” (Charles Dickens)

The relationship lasted four months. Before it ended, there was a marriage proposal. It would never have worked though. Although I loved his height and his sense of humor, we were very different and had very different experiences. In spite of my past (the former spouse in prison thing), I couldn’t quite come to terms with his. And besides, he was a bit too friendly with ghosts for my comfort!

“WHO YA GONNA CALL? GHOSTBUSTERS!”

On to the next one. Bachelor #7.

Well-Meant Advice?

Date: June 24, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

As I returned to the dating scene after 20 years of marriage to the same man, and following my divorce from that man as soon as his criminal behavior and Ponzi scheme was revealed to me, I got some unsolicited, but well-meant advice from a neighbor.

He came over one day to tell me he noticed I’d begun dating.

I was surprised anyone knew. I certainly wasn’t trying to hide my activities, but due to work and children and my busy life, the dates usually didn’t begin until 8 p.m. or 9 p.m. and it was dark well before then. He said, “Oh no. This is a tight knit neighborhood, it’s a very small world, we watch out for each other, we’ve seen men and cars coming and going, we know.”

He told me that when he saw me move in, single, with four children, his first thought was, “Oh no, here we go.” He told me experts advise single people with children to remain single until all of their children are raised. He told me 40-year-olds just want to get married, and actually the best thing for 40-year-olds to do, is to keep dating “on the perimeter” and instead, raise your children. Lastly, he told me no man was going to want me and my four children.

I was a little confused as the man had been married, and divorced, several times. He told me of the struggles he had gone through, many of them child-related, and that was why he was sharing his thoughts. He also told me that he and his current wife were the one-in-a-million miracle of remarriage, and that if I knew their story, I would understand why they had married but that theirs was a very unique situation.

I was stunned.

I was raised on fairy tales. I love happy endings. I had always tried to be a good person, I believed in hard work, I wasn’t a quitter, I sought to have hope time and again even in spite of getting thrown into the deepest messes (not of my own creation) and carry on as best I could no matter what…and there wasn’t one more miracle out there?

I believe, “For every mountain there is a miracle.” (Robert H. Schuller) I’d seen enough tender mercies and miracles in my own life and in the lives of others to know, “We can see a thousand miracles around us every day. What is more supernatural than an egg yolk turning into a chicken?” (S. Parkes Cadman) We just have to look for them.

But I didn’t say any of that. I simply said the experts’ advice didn’t work for me. I had been married, and happily so (I thought) for 20 years. I liked being married and I believed in marriage and if I waited until my last child was raised to begin dating, I wasn’t going to even BEGIN dating until I was almost 60 years old! I felt way too young to waste my “youth,” not to mention the fact that I didn’t love being single…or alone…or lonely. Having had 20 years of companionship, I REALLY noticed its void in my life.

My neighbor left, his advice weighed heavily upon me, and in the end as I had done my entire life, but especially during the events of 2009, I had to continue to do what I felt was best for me and for my children. Despite what the critics thought. So although I appreciated his good intentions, I disagreed with the counsel he had volunteered, and I chose to continue the course I’d set and the decision I had made to date. (And of course, I called my sister and a trusted friend and got their opinion. Just to be sure.)

On to the next man.

“Can you imagine a world without men? No crime and lots of happy fat women.” (Marion Smith/Nicole Hollander)

*Just kidding about the above quote. I love and appreciate men. I just thought it was funny and had to share! I know women break the law too, it just has been my experience that SOME men do participate in illegal activities, like Ponzi schemes…:)

Fred Flintstone and The Grandpa

Date: June 23, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I met the next bachelors, Bachelor #3 and Bachelor #4 (if they qualify as that–I’ll explain later), at a Sunday night religious meeting for singles in Utah.

I walked in the door of the church building to brave my second such meeting and was stunned when four men rushed over and introduced themselves to me in the foyer. Two asked me where I was sitting. (I hadn’t even entered the chapel yet. I didn’t have a seat.) Like a deer caught in headlights, again, I said, “I’m not sure yet. I don’t even know if I’m staying!” I left them and headed into the chapel.

A man came up to me as I walked in the door, shook my hand and introduced himself. He asked me where I was sitting. My answer hadn’t changed. “I’m not sure yet. I don’t even know if I’m staying!”

I went across the room, toward the back, and sat in the corner against the wall–trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. It worked, too, until a very loud man with a shaved head walked in. He walked past my row, glanced at me out of the corner of his eye as he passed by but kept walking, then he stopped, turned around and came and sat down right in front of me! He turned around, introduced himself, and began talking to me. In fact, he turned around and talked to me through the entire prelude like we’d come together or were there as a couple, or at least knew each other! I was mortified. At a break in his conversation, I excused myself.

I went and sat on the other side of the chapel, toward the front this time, but still against the wall.

A man wandered over (Bachelor #3) shook my hand and introduced himself. He asked me what I was doing there. I replied, “Just here to hear the speaker.”

He said, “Aren’t you a little young to be here?”

I was stunned. I thought I was at the Sunday meeting for 31 years old and older. Had I gone to the wrong place? I asked, “Isn’t this for 31 years old and older?” He said yes. I said, “Then I’m at the right place.” He said, “How old are you? Look around–I’m 52 years old. You are by FAR the youngest person here. Do you have kids? What are their ages?”

When I told him I was 42 years old and had a four-year-old, he nodded his head knowingly and said, “I told you you are a little young to be here. No one here is under 50. And no one is going to want a four-year-old at this age.”

I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t feeling like I belonged many places I went as a single, for one reason or another, and then I was being told I didn’t even belong at a singles event for my age group? What else was new?

The meeting began; our conversation ended. The good news? I was alone on the bench!

I sat and listened to the presentation. I didn’t feel like I totally belonged, but I was doing o.k. until the special musical number. A man stood and sang a song I’d never loved, but it had been sung at my mom’s funeral and had affected me every time I’d heard it since then. That night the words hit me in a whole new way. And I wondered what my parents had to be thinking about the disaster-at-times life that was now mine. Tears started rolling down my cheeks.

Not that I could stop the tears from coming, but I thought I was being very discreet about experiencing them. I wasn’t sobbing, or shaking, or anything. Just subtly wiping them away as I sat and listened to the music. And then, from out of nowhere, it happened.

Well, actually, I’m pretty sure it came from behind me.

Unexpectedly, I felt a hand from behind touch my shoulder and squeeze. And didn’t let go. I couldn’t believe it! I didn’t dare look back. I didn’t dare acknowledge it. The only thing I felt I could do was pretend it wasn’t happening!

“…It’s all just pretend. That’s what’s fun about it.” (James Spader) NOT.

Periodically, through the rest of the meeting, I felt a hand on my shoulder and a squeeze. Every time, I’d freeze (probably stiffen) and wait for it to go away! I was reminded, again, there are just some things in life you never expect to experience. That night, I got several!

When the meeting was over, I stood up to leave and the man who had been sitting behind me (I assumed he must have been the shoulder squeezer) said, “If you ever want to talk about it…” I thanked him and told him I was fine. He kindly offered to connect me with singles events more my age. I gave him my email as he requested, and headed out the door.

But before I made it to my car, an old man stopped me. Seriously old–probably pushing 70. He introduced himself as a professor at a local university, told me about himself, asked me about myself…and asked me out on a date! I NEVER saw that one coming. Thank you, Bachelor #4!

Before I could respond to Bachelor #4, a woman came by, grabbed me by the arm, marched me away and said, “Just because you’re single, DOES NOT MEAN you have to be kind to everyone. How long have you been divorced? You’ll learn. I just wanted to get you out of there. Save you.” And she walked away.

I ran into Bachelor #4 a few times after that, and every time he asked me out. Each time I got away without answering. How do you reject a grandpa? (Because I didn’t actually date him, I don’t know if he qualifies as Bachelor #4. But to honor him for his tenacity and his quest for youth, I’ve given him a number.)

That night, however, I went home my usual alone, checked my email before bed to get a jump on what was in store for me the next day, and there was a contact from Bachelor #3–telling me how nice it was to meet me, sharing more about himself, giving me a link to a singles site more my age…and asking me out!

How did I respond?

I did what I do best. I ignored it. I thanked him for the singles info and left it at that. I ran into him a lot after that, and he was always friendly. He even started to seem familiar, in a way, and I couldn’t figure out why. Until one time, I was with a man at an event, ran into Bachelor #3 and he asked a little of the history behind my association with Bachelor #3. I explained. He laughed. When I asked what was so funny, he said, “I just never pictured you dating Fred Flintstone.”

As soon as he said that, it hit me why Bachelor #3 seemed so familiar! Yabba-dabba-DOO!

Thank you, Bachelor #3.

A P.S. To The Bee Gees

Date: June 22, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I’ve been told it’s a small world, especially among Utah singles. I’d heard they all knew each other and were quite inter-connected. But when I first moved here, and didn’t know a soul, I wasn’t sure that I believed that.

However, at the second singles dance I went to, I already started seeing familiar faces and recognizing people. So I quickly realized it was probably true.

How funny, then, that the small world became even smaller at the third singles dance I went to. (I have been to four of them total now.)

I was alone, didn’t know anyone, and I saw a group of “younger” looking, attractive blonde women who looked to be having a good time laughing together, so I went over and introduced myself. We got to chatting and discovered we had friends in common. I couldn’t believe it. I’d lived in Utah less than six months and had already become part of that small world in a single way.

Scary.

One gal brought up the subject of dating, and each started sharing their worst date. One talked about a guy who talked only about his money and what everything cost. One talked about a guy who blared the radio like he was in high school. One talked about a guy who starved himself and didn’t eat. I started to share my story about this psycho guy who’d been a total loser all night long, but the best was when he dropped me off and asked me if I wanted him to call him again. Suddenly I stopped, mid-sentence. I put it together fast.

I asked, “Where did your crazy dates live?”

All three women said their dates had lived in the Bee Gees mountain retreat!

We looked at each other and laughed. All of us had dated the same man, one time only, and every one of us had the same type of experience! Every one of us had the same opinion of him, too: Liar. Lunatic. Crazy. Insane.

Just to clarify, we asked among ourselves, “Did the guy survive some huge fall while rock climbing–75 feet or more?” (The final Bachelor Bee Gee trivia that put a nail in the coffin of his identity. Every one of us had heard him tell that story. He had shown me the newspaper articles and pictures while giving me a tour of the Bee Gee pad.)

Same guy.

We put his lunacy down to the fact that he had survived a fall like that. We figured it must have damaged his brain as well.

And THAT is Bachelor Bee Gee.

“I’ve Gotta Get A Message To You” Bachelor #2. Two words. The End.