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Bachelor Bee Gee

Date: June 21, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

Bachelor #2 (aka. Bachelor Bee Gee) was paranoid about houses. At least that’s the impression I got. He asked me out on a date, for dessert, but insisted on meeting me at a nearby parking lot rather than my home or the restaurant. He told me he never let anyone know where he lived on the first date.

Should that have been my first clue?

I met him at the parking lot he designated, he helped me into the cab of his giant white truck and he turned on the engine and revved it–a sign of things to come. High school.

Again?

He put the truck in gear and drove toward the restaurant. As he drove, he reached over and turned on the stereo. It was blasting so loud I thought he was joking with me, you know, turning up the radio and blaring an 80s song to act young for me or something. But no, he didn’t even look at me. He was too busy singing along and bouncing in his seat and I realized it wasn’t 2009 anymore for at least one of us on the date! The music was so loud it hurt my ears. And then he began to shout over it.

“Do you like the music?”

“What?” I asked.

“Do you like this song? This music?”

I had to reach over and turn it down to hear his question. When I finally figured out what he was asking me, and with my ears still ringing, I realized it was a hard rock song I hadn’t heard since the 1980s. High school. Again.

As we drove he told me all about the song I was hearing and how much it cost him to purchase it; that he had every song from the 80s loaded into his system and how much each song had cost; and the grand total he had spent on music. Then he moved on to the benefits and features of his stereo system–how much he had paid for everything. And then what he had paid for his truck. And then the travel he planned to do in the next few months–and how much he planned to spend.

The whole drive to the restaurant was like that. He talked about everything he owned and how much everything had cost–all the while shouting over the 80s hard rock music he had blasting. I wondered (not for the first time, since I began dating) if I was being punked!

No such luck.

We arrived at the restaurant, the hostess seated us, gave us the dessert menus, and we chatted while deciding what to order. The server arrived to take our order and Bachelor Bee Gee directed me to order first. I did. The served looked at him, expectantly, but he closed his menu and said, “I’m not having any dessert. I don’t like sugar. In fact, I rarely eat.”

Total “Jive Talkin’.”

Then why in the heck had he asked me out for dessert?

The server raised his eyebrows at me before walking away. He seemed to say, “Where in the world did you find this winner?” He didn’t want to know the truth. Online. “I Started A Joke” the day I got online.

I offered to cancel my order so we could do something more to his liking, he said no, and proceeded to tell me how he ate only every 3-4 days and that he never ate dessert. (I thought, “This is going to be a long night. Maybe when he sees I eat sugar, then he’ll take me home early!”) I wondered how he was going to entertain me while I ate dessert. I soon found out.

He decided to entertain me with strange facts about himself, like the “fact” that he lived in a home that was once owned by the Bee Gees. He said it had been the Bee Gees’ mountain retreat in Utah. (Hence the name, Bachelor Bee Gee!) He told me about talking to the Bee Gees on the phone, negotiating the deal, etc…

My dessert came, I ate a little but saved most of it to take home to my kids. I figured Bachelor Bee Gee may not eat sugar, but my kids would enjoy a treat courtesy of the man who starved himself and apparently, liked to watch other people eat dessert! We weren’t at the restaurant long. There is nothing appetizing about eating dessert in front of someone who not only isn’t having any, but who never eats any–or for that matter, supposedly, never eats food!

We got in his truck, and instead of driving me back to the parking lot as I expected, he started driving toward the mountains. I thought maybe he was taking a shortcut to the parking lot that I didn’t know about (I was still new in town, he was not) but finally I figured out we weren’t heading to where I wanted to go. I asked, “Can you tell me where we’re going?”

He told me, “We’re going to my house–to the Bee Gees’ mountain retreat.”

I said, “Wait. I thought you didn’t let anyone see where you lived on the first date.”

He looked at me, winked, and said he wasn’t worried about me. He had a feeling that I was “safe.” I wasn’t worried about me either. But I was seriously starting to wonder about him!

We pulled up to the house and it wasn’t what I had expected: a 70s-style house in the middle of a neighborhood. I tried to imagine why the Bee Gees would buy a house like that and put it in the middle of a normal neighborhood. If I were coming to enjoy the Utah mountains, and traveling from down under to do it, and if I were a celebrity, I think I would want a bit more privacy!

I walked in the door, expecting a total 1970s-style, funky house and it was not what I expected. He took me on a tour and showed me where every Bee Gees decorating touch had been, what it had been, and showed me how he had ripped it out and replaced it with something modern! There was absolutely nothing BeeGees about the house at all. What a waste! It was a “Tragedy!”

He took me into the family room of the house. A fire was roaring in the fireplace. (That should have been my first clue.) Suddenly, and mysteriously, BeeGees mood music came on and I realized a serious case of “Night Fever” might be coming my way. It was time for me to focus on “Stayin’ Alive.” Literally.

I told him it was late, I had to work the next day, it was time for me to go home, and I headed for the door. It was almost as if his truck was calling, “Run To Me.” So I did just that.

He took a while to come out of the house. As I stood there in the dark and cold waiting for him, I imagined having to have to call my teenager to come pick me up and give me a ride home. (If the previous events of 2009 hadn’t scarred him, THAT probably would have! lol) But fortunately Bachelor Bee Gee came out and gave me a ride to my car–music blaring, no shouted conversation this time. I think he got the hint.

But that is the amazing thing about dating. About men. Just when you think men understand, you realize some of them don’t! He must have thought he was a “Heartbreaker.” We got to my car, I opened my door and jumped out. He looked at me and asked, “Hey, would you like me to call you again?”

I was stunned! A wave of…change…washed over me, as I realized in that moment that just a few months earlier I’d been married (and married for 20 years), I’d had stability and security; and yet there I stood, living a completely different life, divorced, single, and ending a date with a virtual stranger who was whack-o. All I could do was laugh!

I couldn’t answer him, I was laughing too hard. (You know, as I’ve said before. In life, you can choose to laugh or cry: I choose to laugh!) I never did answer him. Instead, I laughed all the way to my car. And as I opened my car door I heard him call out, “Remember, the phone line works both ways!”

I drove home, walked up to my room, realized how fortunate I had been and stopped laughing. A wave of “Emotion” washed over me and I burst into tears at the unexpected life that was now mine. “Alone.” I couldn’t comprehend that Bee Gees-wannabes were my destiny. If that was the case, I didn’t think it was possible “To Love Somebody.”

I didn’t think my love was deep enough.

“I was always the one left behind. Out in the streets, when they saw me they’d say, ‘That’s just one of the Bee Gees.’” (Maurice Gibb)

The 2nd Time Around

Date: June 18, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

Like I said, things with Bachelor #1 were ending. We ended up seeing each other one more time after the night he told me that to continue seeing each other was too painful for him, but I planned ahead. That last week, as I sensed things were ending, I decided to try the online thing again.

I still wasn’t sure, being new in town and single and commuting to work in another city, how to meet and make local friends. The one Sunday meeting, and the one singles dance, hadn’t helped me. The online option was the only one
I knew to try.

The second time around, I was optimistically hoping to last longer than 24 hours. I felt much better prepared. I had some dating experience under my belt, the rebound relationship had come and gone, and I went into it expecting some unusual surprises so I didn’t think I would be as shocked (and afraid) at what came my way!

So, before my last date with Bachelor #1, I switched to a different online site (I’d heard there were “better” people on there) and signed up online.

I posted my picture and info, and then, like watching stock move up the Dow, began to see the activity around my bio. The site shows you who is checking out your profile. The numbers can be unexpected–200+ men in 24 hours is not uncommon. I couldn’t imagine there were that many people trying to meet people. And at all hours of the day.

The online traffic was something I was careful of. So although a lot of people posted picture of themselves with their kids, I didn’t. As a mother, I didn’t have a single picture of myself without at least one of my children in the frame, and I wasn’t about to take special pictures just to post online, so I just made sure I was alone in anything I posted on a singles site. It required some careful cropping.

I heard from some men who had contacted me my first time online–I guess they’d switched sites, too, or they were on multiple sites!

I heard from widowers.

I heard from men from all backgrounds, all across the country, and even some from the Baltic. I think the quest for international friendships is huge online, based on some of the profiles that came my way that specified up front: “If you don’t speak English, don’t even bother contacting me!”

I even heard from celebrities. (Well, their pictures anyway!) There was one man I was pretty sure was using pictures of Guy Ritchie, Madonna’s ex-husband, for his profile. And several others I think were posting professional modeling photos, of other people, as theirs. It was entertaining!

I’d walk into work each morning, and my team wanted to know how the online situation was. I gave a few co-workers my password so they could have a good laugh at my online contacts, and it was a source of entertainment during many a lunch hour.

I gave my sister my password, too, so she could occasionally check things out on my behalf and make sure she felt good about things. (I trust her judgement.)

But eventually, sharing my password with so many turned out to not be so good. I started getting frustrated messages from men that I was online and not responding to them when in fact, it hadn’t been ME online! I explained I had lots of friends in my corner, helping me and giving me input. THAT went over well–scared quite a few men off! But that was o.k. by me. Given the public nature of my divorce and the whole unexpected life, financial devastation, destroyed credit, four children…my life was not for the faint of heart and I knew it. If men couldn’t take some degree of a lack of privacy, after all I had lived through, they weren’t for me!

And, just what I was hoping for, I heard from local men too.

Hello, Bachelor #2. Or should I say, “Bachelor Bee Gee”?

Friendly Dating Advice

Date: June 16, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I have a friend who watches out for me. (Which I appreciate. He is a good man, like my family, and has been there for me in important ways all the years I have known him, but especially in 2009.)

He stayed abreast of the events in my life and my activities and the first time I saw him in person after I began dating he had some advice for me. He knew what I’d been up to and said he thought it was great I was socializing, but told me not to rush into anything. He encouraged me to take my time, not to tie myself down, see who and what was out there, and make sure I get exactly what I want the second time.

Good advice. I followed it.

And to show him I was listening to his counsel and following it, I kept a written list of every man I dated–just to prove to him, if or when the time came, that I had been thorough in my search.

“So many men, so little time.” (Mae West)

Now let me introduce you to some of the men on the list. Get ready to meet the most memorable. (Get ready to laugh.)

He’s Not My Boyfriend!

Date: June 15, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

We all learned a lot from Bachelor #1. Including what to call the men I dated.

I don’t know why I have such an aversion to the word “boyfriend” but I do, and always have. It must be the way I was raised. My parents drilled this into my head: Don’t wear your heart on your sleeve. Don’t tie yourself down. Don’t have a boyfriend. NEVER tie yourself to just one guy–until you are engaged!

So, I never did. I never had what I called a boyfriend. In fact, when I got engaged to my former spouse and went to tell my roommates I was getting married, they looked at me in shock and asked, “WHO are you engaged to?” I was surprised they didn’t know, so I asked them to guess. I was even more surprised when “Shawn Merriman” was the 5th name they guessed! I guess I got the “no boyfriend” thing my parents taught me down really, really well (in the 80s.)

I went from not having a boyfriend, not having a fiance (couldn’t say that word, either, for some reason!) to having a husband. Fortunately, I was able to say that word. For 20 years!

And then I became single again, unexpectedly, in 2009. I re-entered the dating scene. And my kids started saying things like, “So, when are you going to see your BOYFRIEND again?”

It struck a nerve. I just couldn’t call Bachelor #1 my boyfriend. That title made me cringe! He wasn’t my boyfriend.

I told my son, “Don’t call him that. I don’t have a boyfriend. He’s not my boyfriend.”

And before I could explain why I was so weird about that, my son said, “Oh, yah, that’s right. He’s not a boy. He’s a man. Got it, Mom, so when are you going to see your MANFRIEND again?”

I don’t know if that’s what everyone else’s teenagers call the men they date, but it was so unexpected, we all laughed. Hard. And you know what? The title stuck.

Every single man I’ve gone out with has been referenced, by my children, as my “manfriend.” Wouldn’t my parents be proud to know that although they’re gone, I’m still following their advice? No boyfriends for this single mother. Still.

Boyfriends. Who needs them? “I know what you want. And I know what you need. But I’m gonna [mess] it up, yeah, cause I’m an idiot. And I’m your boyfriend.” (Jimmy Fallon)

My advice to all the single ladies out there? Follow the counsel my parents gave me. Don’t complicate your life with boyfriends. Instead, try MANFRIENDS!

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The Innocent…and The Unusual

Date: June 13, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

One day toward the end of Bachelor #1 I was talking to my sister about the single situation. She asked me, “So, have you found any other cute guys?” (That’s what we called them in the 80s.)

I had to laugh. Because I really hadn’t. I was expecting men to look 20-something (that was the last age I’d really checked out the looks of men) and instead, all of the men I saw or met were wrinkled, gray-haired (if they had hair), bald, and/or heavy. In other words, they were aging! And apparently, I was in denial that it was taking place in my life as well, because I felt like I was meeting and socializing (and getting asked out by) fathers and grandpas–not MY peers. (Told you, a little denial on my part!)

So, that was a challenge of re-entering the single scene in my 40s.

It was not the 1980s anymore.

The good news?

I discovered there are some handsome, kind, fun, and active single fathers and grandpas out there. And get ready. You’re about to learn about several I met–in spite of the fact that, “It’s always been my personal feeling that unless you are married, there is something that is not very dignified about talking about who you are dating.” (Luke Wilson)

In an effort to be dignified, I won’t name the real names of some of the memorable men I’ve met or dated. All names will be changed to protect the innocent…and the unusual.

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Bachelor #1

Date: June 11, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

Wrong.

Bachelor #1 woke me up the next morning with a text thanking me for the date. Called me that day, texted me all day, called me during the week in the evenings while he was away on business, and dated me every weekend after that. The rebound relationship had begun!

After the first week of dating, I realized I hadn’t cried in one week. For the first time since March 18, 2009, I had gone one entire week without tears. I hadn’t remembered to cry because I hadn’t felt like crying! I was healing. So what did I do? I cried. In disbelief and gratitude!

Bachelor #1 was a good man and a very decent person. He was also very fun. But I couldn’t help noticing things moved a little too fast for my comfort. I didn’t know if it was the man, or the age, but I was very overwhelmed all of the time at how different things were from the 1980s!

I’m sure everyone who has spent time with me since the nightmare began, has heard me say that. I guess because it’s my biggest shock. All of my single experience, my entire dating frame of reference, last took place over 20 years ago. So I’m constantly amazed at the difference just two decades makes! (Wait. Did I just say that? Nothing makes you sound old like being able to refer to two entire decades as a frame of reference.)

Anyway, Bachelor #1 gave me lots of encouragement. He told me I could be engaged in two weeks and married in less than three months if I wanted to be. (I was too shocked at that comment to even respond.) He told me he was there for me and willing to partner with me in raising my children. (THAT one surprised me. He’d never met them, had just met me, and was offering that? I pretended I didn’t hear that, either.) But mostly he just entertained me and made me laugh. He said unexpected, friendly things a newly single mother of four needed to hear.

For example, during the time I dated Bachelor #1 the pastor of my new congregation called me in to meet with him and asked me to serve our congregation in a particular assignment. I told Bachelor #1 I got an opportunity to serve my new congregation and told him to guess my new assignment. Without missing a beat or batting an eye he said, “As the congregation hottie!” NOT EVEN. (But it did make me laugh.)

He also introduced me to many new, fun things about the city I had moved to; helped me get to know my surroundings a little bit; took me on lots of fun dates, took me dancing, celebrated Halloween with me by dressing as Clark Kent (and had me dress as Lois Lane), etc…

However, there were some insecurities. The man had been married, and married more than once (I couldn’t believe how common that is these days–it has actually been very rare for me to meet men who have been married just one time.) He told me several times how jealous he was of my 20-year marriage, the long and stable life I’d enjoyed married to someone I’d had children with. Bachelor #1 had never experienced that and said he was jealous of me. (I told him not to be jealous, the 20-year marriage had ended rather disastrously for me! But the longer I’ve been single, and the more people I’ve met who never had anything like that, the more I understand that comment now.)

He also told me he felt very inferior in his ability to provide in a manner to which I was accustomed. He had googled me after he learned my story, and the media coverage was very thorough in detailing the lifestyle members of our family had enjoyed. But what they missed, and what many people don’t understand, is that it wasn’t really MY lifestyle. The art, the cars, the motorhome, the jewelry, and so many of the “things” were never my idea. I hadn’t asked for them, I hadn’t desired them, and I hadn’t purchased them. Many times, they simply arrived at the house because my former spouse had purchased them. In fact, if our marriage had any contention in it, it was over “stuff.” Things He wanted, and all of the things I didn’t want us to have or be responsible for. Sure, I enjoyed travel and shopping at Nordstrom, but I also shopped at Target.

I’d never been a worldly person; I’d learned the utter worthlessness of worldly possessions as a teenager–but that’s another blog for some other day. All I could say to Bachelor #1 about the lifestyle and any man’s ability to provide in an equal way was my view of the “providing” I’d experienced: it actually hadn’t been “providing” at all. Turns out, it was theft. And crime is nothing to feel inferior toward!

Like any rebound relationship, however, it wasn’t meant to last.

One night, about six weeks into the relationship, he drove me to see a home he’d found to buy. He said the only thing it needed was a fence to keep young children safe. (He didn’t have young children, I did.) Then he took me somewhere else to ask if I thought I could love him forever, etc… (Marriage Proposal #1.)

Right then, things came to a silent, screeching halt for me. I know that at my age, and with all of the technology we have to get to know people and to keep in touch, you get to know people much faster than previous times–like the 80s. But I had to be honest. I told him at that point, I just knew that he was very nice and fun and that I liked him.

He told me it had to end, then, because he couldn’t take any more risk and hurt. I offered to continue to spend time together as friends and he thanked me for that, but declined, saying it was already too painful for him to continue. The end.

Thank you, Bachelor #1.

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One Date

Date: June 10, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

An interesting thing happened on that first date. Well, a couple of things.

First, I learned that your date always wants to know your story on the first date–ie. why you got divorced. Wow. I didn’t know that in advance and I was so clueless about dating in the year 2009 I didn’t know to expect that. So when Bachelor #1 asked me that, in my usual deer-caught-in-headlights style, I told him the WHOLE story. Based on the way I’d been treated by some people since the nightmare leading to my single status began, I worried he might open the door and leave me on the side of the road in a Utah city I didn’t know very well yet as soon as he knew my history! But I didn’t consider not telling him or not telling the truth. So I told him. Everything.

His reaction shocked me. He looked at me and said just two words: “I’m sorry.”

Sorry? HE was sorry? He hadn’t done anything. He hadn’t been there, hadn’t known me, in fact, had just met me but he was sorry? I was stunned. He told me he was sorry about what had happened to me and my children. He said he was sorry we had had to live through all of that. And you know what? Just having a virtual stranger hear my story and tell me he was sorry it had happened (instead of immediately questioning my knowledge of what had gone on–or worse, my possible involvement) was healing. I was on the path to overcoming.

Other things helped too. Like laughing, having fun, and feeling carefree for an hour or two. I noticed that for the first time since March 18, I didn’t feel alone and like I, alone, was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. While on that date, I had a break from my sorrow and my troubles and THAT was a welcome relief!

And, of course, after the decades of lies and betrayals that led to me worrying about being an “old bag” and feeling like one, having a man compliment my appearance was an added bonus!

Before I went in the house, my date also gave me some excellent dating advice for the second time around.

He told me I’d find dating very different in my 40s. He said that by the time people reach our age, they know very quickly what they want and what they don’t want. He told me to not be offended if someone didn’t like me or want to date me a second time. He said, “Remember back in high school just because you met people, you didn’t want to date ALL of them!” (Just when you thought high school was long in the past…you become unexpectedly single again!) He told me never to think something was wrong with me, it would simply be a matter of them and what they were looking for.

I headed into the house sure I’d never hear from him again.

One date. And already a loser!

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The First Date (Continued)

Date: June 7, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I couldn’t believe it. I was in a car with a total stranger and it wasn’t weird at all! How could that be? How could I have been married 20 years and NOT feel weird my first night out? But I didn’t. At all. The man was friendly, talkative and very entertaining. I couldn’t believe how comfortable I felt. But at the same time, it was hard to let myself enjoy it. I kept thinking, “What is wrong with me? Why does this not feel weird?”

Then we got to the parking lot where the dance was being held. Suddenly I wondered, again, what I was doing. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. The comfortable feeling while driving must simply have been a bit of beginner’s luck.

He opened my door, helped me out of the car, and we walked toward the dance entrance. Like a coach preparing his player for a competition, the man was briefing me about the dance, what to expect, and offering last minute advice and encouragement. As I was beginning to wonder what hyperventilating felt like (and trying to figure out if I was experiencing it) I think I heard him say, “Don’t worry, you’re going to be great in there!”

It was a long walk to the dance from the parking lot. Periodically he’d look over at me and check my status asking, “How are you doing? Still breathing? Still doing o.k.?” Unfortunately, I was. So we continued on. It was all so new, I decided to set small goals for myself. That night I had just one goal: to walk in the door, dance one dance, and then I could leave and count the night a success. Progress.

But then we walked into the dance and I could have died. Lets just say it was a very eclectic crowd. The people were NOT who I expected to see. (Keep in mind the last time I’d gone to a dance was the 1980s when I was single the first time.) It wasn’t the 1980s anymore!

I stopped in the doorway and stared. I was in shock. Everywhere I looked, there they were: white haired grandpas, bald men, wrinkled men, heavy men; OLD men! My date looked at me, winked and said, “Yes…there’s a lot of heartache in this room!”

I guess that’s what you’d call it. But I was a bit more self-centered than my date. Instead of acknowledging all of the heartache that had to have been in the room, my thoughts were about me: “WHAT am I doing here? I don’t belong here! This is NOT me!” But I guess I did belong there and it was my new life. Although I hadn’t chosen my circumstances or my new life, although I’d never planned to be single, I was.

I guess in some ways, sometimes it still surprises me. To this day, every singles dance (all four of them) those are still the same thoughts I have each time I walk in to the room: “What am I doing here? I don’t belong here! This is NOT me!”

And then thanks to my rebound friend, I remember and think, “There’s a LOT of heartache in this room!” I know I’ve had more than my fair share in the time since my former spouse revealed His Ponzi scheme, crimes and everything else. So I try to make the night not about me, but about the heartache of others. I say yes to every man who asks me to dance, and I try to be friendly, polite, kind and interested in helping them have a good time for that song. (And I’ve met some fun women friends, too.)

But that night at the dance, my first date, we laughed. We danced. We had a lot of fun. And before I knew it, his cell phone rang. He looked at the caller and handed me the phone. “I think it’s for you,” he said.

“Mom? Where are you? What are you doing?” my oldest son sternly asked. (Who knew I had a teenage son in charge of my curfew?) I explained it was only 11:47 p.m., I was an adult in my 40s, and I was fine–I’d be home around midnight or a little after. My son laughed, said he was just doing to me what I had always done to him but that it too late for me to do that; it wasn’t almost midnight, it was almost 1 a.m.! At the same time my son told me that, I heard my date gasp and say, “Oh no! I’ve been in California on business all week–I forgot to reset the time on my phone. It’s actually…”

Too late. First date in 20 years and I had already blown my curfew! I was busted…by my teenager! CLEARLY, it wasn’t the 1980s anymore.

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First Date

Date: June 7, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I guess you could call my first experience with “internet dating” entertaining. It was so entertaining, in fact, I lasted less than 24 hours on the site! Here’s what happened.

I woke up the first morning after signing up to an inbox full of messages from men. Strangers. And before I could even read the first one, the IM window popped open and a man was there talking to me, live, online.

I didn’t know WHAT to do but through trial and error, quite a bit of error, I figured it out. The man was a lot more computer savvy than I was (or he’d been single a lot longer!) because every time I typed something, I accidentally canceled the chat session, but the man gamely contacted me again and opened a new window. I typed my apologies, tried again, and eventually learned how to IM to some degree.

What I remember most about that conversation was sitting in front of my computer screen and laughing out loud. The sound of real laughter, coming out of my mouth, was a shock to me. I realized it had been a long time since I’d laughed and truly meant it. The man had a GREAT sense of humor. I think my laughter was a shock to the whole family. A few of my children who were in the house when I was chatting with the man, came into the room to see why I was making that noise they hadn’t heard, for real, for quite some time.

The man told me a little about himself, asked me about myself, asked for my phone number (I didn’t know what to do about that either, I wasn’t expecting that) and when I hesitated, he gave me his phone number and asked me to call him. He also asked me out. He told me there was a huge, bi-annual singles dance at a local university that night, and he was game to take me if I felt ready to go to it. I told him I wasn’t sure what I was ready for. He was understanding about that, told me to call him that night if I changed my mind, and we left it at that.

Meanwhile, my sister and her friends from high school were in town and getting together for dinner that night. They’d invited me to join them and my sister arrived to pick me up. As soon as I got in the car, she asked me what I’d been up to.

My heart stopped. Not only had I done something totally impusively, planning to keep it a secret (but that got ruined by my inability to even load my own picture onto the website, so my teenage son now knew) and now I was going to have to tell my sister! I knew she was seriously going to doubt my sanity.

I said, “You will die at what I’ve done. You’re not going to believe it, and you’re going to think I’m insane.”

She looked at me with some degree of trepidation and said, “Uh-oh. Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

So I did. “I signed up on an online singles site.”

Her reaction wasn’t what I’d been expecting. She screamed, clapped her hands and was clearly enthusiastic about it. She told me, “Andrea, I’ve been thinking the whole 1 1/2 hour drive up here how I could persuade you to sign up online! I really think it’s what you should do. I’ve thought it for awhile and have just been waiting for the right time to broach that subject with you. All of my single friends are online. They tell me it’s how you meet people these days. I am so glad you did that!”

I still needed reassurance. “So you don’t think I’m a lunatic, then?”

She assured me she didn’t think I was. And we drove to dinner.

I hadn’t seen her friends since approximately 1988, and there I was, walking in to meet them for the first time in years after living through some of the biggest humiliations I’d never imagined existed–at least not in my life. I was a little apprehensive about what questions they might ask (I was still thinking secrecy was the only option I had to go on to rebuild a “normal” life) but I should have known better. Like all childhood friends, they were exactly the same. Open, friendly, caring…and no one asked me about anything I didn’t volunteer or want to talk about. (In fact, I found out later one friend didn’t know anything about my situation. She was confused about some of the comments I had made but never even asked for clarification.) All of them very good women.

At some point in the conversation, my sister told them about my online experience and the potential date I had that night. They all told me I should go. So with four cheerleaders in my corner, I picked up the phone, called the man and asked, “Is it too late to change my mind?”

He was kind, said it wasn’t a problem at all, and told me he’d pick me up at 9:45 p.m. I hung up the phone and thought, not for the first time that day, “What have I done?”

I also wondered about lots of other things: what was I going to wear, was I crazy to meet a stranger, would I be safe? But my sister assured me she had a good feeling about the whole thing, and the man, and we were going to follow through with it. We raced home after dinner so I could get ready for my first date in decades.

It was a surreal experience to be getting ready for a date, a date with a stranger no less, for the first time since 1989. Thank goodness I had help–my sister AND my teenage daughter–helping me select the right outfit, talking to me while I did my hair, choosing my jewelry, debating with me about what shoes to wear, etc… In some ways, it was the 80s again. (Well, the 80s plus one. I NEVER imagined I’d be getting ready for a date with the assistance of a daughter!)

And before I knew it, I had a text that the man was outside waiting for me. (I’d asked him not to come to the door as I had children.) I walked out to face the consequence of my decision. Nothing like walking out the door to go on a date…with four sets of eyes of your children watching…and your sister watching…and I was pretty sure the neighbors were too!

He stepped out of the car, introduced himself and shook my hand, opened my door for me, and we headed off to a singles dance!

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I Didn’t Have A Clue

Date: June 2, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I was ready to escape the loneliness, my children had given me their permission to date, and I didn’t have a clue how.

And then impulsively, late one Friday night, I checked out an online singles website. Websites (heck, even the internet!) hadn’t been invented the last time I’d been single and I admit, over the years I’d been very suspect of those types of things. And then unexpectedly I became like the many others I’d heard about–I signed up! I didn’t have a clue what I was doing, I only knew I planned to keep it a secret.

You had to provide information about yourself, information about the type of people you were interested in meeting, and you had to post a picture. My plan to keep the whole online a secret was already blown. I didn’t know how to load a picture onto the site! So when my oldest got home that night, I had to ask him to help me. He handled my request with absolute class, grace, and not a single comment…until he had finished loading the photos and was heading to bed. He couldn’t resist teasing me a little bit, and with a wink, wished me “good luck” in my “internet dating.”

I was mortified. Internet dating. Is THAT what I was doing?

Shaking my head at myself I went to bed. I didn’t have high hopes for “internet dating.” Simply having to resort to that made me feel like an even bigger loser and I added “internet dating” to the list of failures: formerly married to a criminal, hadn’t had a clue about His Ponzi scheme activity EVER, divorced, single mom, credit ruined, financial devastation, starting over at 42, etc… In some ways, the list was growing. Not exactly the direction I had hoped to be heading.

But the next morning I woke up to quite an unexpected surprise. I’m still not sure why I thought to check my email on a Saturday morning, that wasn’t my usual habit. (I guess maybe in part it was to see if I’d really done what I thought I had.) Nope. It wasn’t a dream. I actually HAD signed up online. And I discovered I had an inbox FULL of messages. I certainly wasn’t expecting that! I bravely clicked on the first one and opened it.

But before I could even read it, a man from the online site opened an IM window and began to chat with me.

WHAT had I done, I thought to myself. And my next thoughts were even more brilliant: How did that screen get there? What do I do? What is this IM thing? I’d never done anything like that before. But out of desperation, I became a quick study. (Thank goodness years ago I’d seen a movie, “The Perfect Man.” I remembered they’d IM’d in that movie, and THAT was how I figured out how to answer the man waiting expectantly for my reply.)

Hang on! The roller coaster of my life just took ANOTHER unexpected turn!

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