Clearly I need to be banned from online dating.

I don’t even know what to say about it, except to say…one day you might read about it. I mean, I am telling you–my experiences literally run the gamut…and I have met 14 different men with 14 different stories, 14 different temperaments, 14 different ideas of beauty, 14 different sets of eyes focused on more than 14 different things, 14 dudes is my dating record…record uh-huh, Denver, over the past 4.5 months. And before you get all judgmental, let me just tell you most (but not all) of these guys I met only once (and the ones who I have seen more than once are good guys, friends, so shush). This is the girl who literally had sex with only 2 men while I lived in NY single for almost two years and one of them doesn’t even live in this country (again I am not insane, so don’t think I went out sleeping with 14 guys, it would never ever ever happen-2 dudes in 2 years, think about those odds). I think I did tandem dating of maybe 9-11 different dudes in NY, but this was over 10 years ago now. I didn’t sleep with any of them, but I did have my fun…hmmm. I don’t even know what to say about how that went down. NY is a haze of namelessness and yes, faces I could probably sit in a room with now and forget how I knew them at all.

But Denver’s dudes are a little bit mundane in many ways. It’s hard to find someone who has a permeable edge, a place you can see and fall for because there’s something wonderful in there. It’s almost like everyone has this impossible guard up. Or maybe the altitude is killing your brain cells. This might also be because text to conversation translations are not as exciting in person once the person doesn’t have time to craft their words carefully. I mean, I largely don’t edit, because I like this stream of consciousness thought process. I still think in words and pictures. I think of how a sentence might sound, and this is why I get attached to words that help exercise the throat, coax with just a drop in volume…and words that exercise the head. With that being said, those of you who write me like that sometimes give me hope, almost trick me into expectation, but often fail when it comes down to it.

But yes, I have realized I have not dated or met this many men in such a short span of time in over 10 years. And maybe I am inherently a little more needy (gross, horrible word, I know) for human contact and conversation now than I was for some 10+ years in NY. I never had to bother with any of the bullshit of dating if I didn’t want to, and spent almost two years totally alone in NY–and here, here it’s a different story. I don’t have my friends to distract me. I have me. And well, a very select few of you guys.

14? Yes. (I forgot one friend I met, so it’s not 13, it’s 14, truthfully). And a good number apparently never met anyone from that site, or online period. I largely think I am a good exercise in getting to know someone online, but maybe I up the ante in some ways, too. I can talk to anyone, and those of you who know me know I can talk to anyone about almost anything, and though I definitely appreciate comfortable silences and don’t need to hear my voice or your voice all of the time to think everything is kosher, when something needs to be said, I say it. I also know that because I am a hot chick that doesn’t disappoint with my literal representation being so very different from photos, that you have to be aware that we all are judging books by their covers, that we all go looking to see if we want to see you naked. And most of the time if I write to you, I have already at least conceptualized it, but that’s because I am pretty sure I think that about most people I find attractive. And some who are not, because it is a natural thing to think about–sex, that is.

In any case–I feel like there is some magic key somewhere. That if I jump off that damn dating site that I might find someone organically, via the analog breathing fleshy moments that are largely misrepresented via these online methods. I am that kind of girl. I want flowers and dancing and bodies and sweat and touch. And though I could woo you and pull you in with my words maybe, I want your face in front of me, I want to touch your lips. I don’t want this screen in between me and the possibility.

And thank you Sam and Seth for being actual friends, not trying to pull rank or ask for favors because you treated me out for the night. I appreciate you that more than you know.

And the other dudes? Well there is a sweet guy who I met a few weekends ago who just moved who’s been reaching out to let me know he hasn’t quite settled. And then the deviant I met the other night I can say many things about, but settling is not one word I could ever associate with him, nor could I even suggest was on the market for the kind of relationship I am interested in, to be entirely honest.

The rest of them have their places, some of them were offensive and said horrible things to me about my scars and body (come on, you’re really not that shocked are you?), some of them had potential in words but their translation literally fell flat into a pit of blank, some got super pushy and drove me away with their clinging and complaining about my schedule to hang out with them not being neatly mapped out, some of them had fast-forwarded the relationship several years after hanging out with me once, never organically understanding who I was and what kind of person I really aspire to be, and the remainder were just not my kinds of guys. Not mellow enough, not smart enough, or literally not fast enough to ever keep up with me.

I am into something special, not ordinary. If you are a Republican your thought processes don’t mesh with mine. I am a ship that looks like it’s rocking sometimes a little too violently, but I always have a pretty easy time re-balancing myself out. My temperament is easy, it is literally impossible to offend me (think about watching someone recoil from your physical self, I dare say most of you would be offended. For me it’s about having an easy filter to pull out whenever I feel the need. I could give a flying fuck what you think of me).

I know what I want. I want someone who is independent but not to the point of absolute selfishness. I want someone who is funny and engaging and can hold a conversation for more than five minutes. I want someone who expresses himself in some way creatively, not necessarily for a career but can think abstractly, someone who can appreciate art and music on some level at least—and someone who is sane enough to recognize that you do need to make money some way to survive. I want someone who is going to make me want to crawl on my hands and knees and out the window with their touch. I want someone who is bigger than me, who can make me feel safe both emotionally and physically. I want someone who might be open spiritually but is in touch with reality…I want to be with someone who likes to dance, cook (I didn’t say good cook or good dancer, just be open to it), who likes to run around, someone who is spontaneous and doesn’t always depend on me to navigate the ship, someone just as comfortable hanging in as they are being social. I would love someone who has a connection to nature but no heavy irrational refusal to visit a city. A person familiar with notions of wanderlust, curiosity about the world around them, someone who isn’t dumb enough to think they know everything there is…because to me that indicates a lack of willingness to learn or appreciate anything new. And if you can’t do that, you can’t appreciate me.

And on that note let me disclose something. I take medication for my blood pressure and to regulate my heart rate, but I have never had to depend on chemicals to find a good reality of balance and happiness. I am way too self-aware to need that type of therapy. And though I have seen therapists in my past for a month or two to assuage the fears of my family after going through so many near death experiences, I have found I am too smart to get anything from them, because though I don’t always know the solutions to my conundrums, I know what they are. And though I would be lying my face off to ever say I had never hated and been angry and resentful of my predicament (I am not one of those superheroes) while the rest of you frolic carefree through life, I definitely am a way more open and giving and loving thing than you think. I want people to find their bliss, their happiness, their purpose. I’m getting closer to finding mine, too.

I also want to feel like I am living the dream, that I actually just get paid for doing what I want, for being happy. I am happy because that is what I have chosen to be in my life. It is a choice you can make almost daily, and there is no other reasonable choice for me right now. I hate sinking into pity, and though the orchestrations of my own little pity party might have been murmuring in the background in the past, I can readily admit I know I am the only one who can motor me out of this mire. And for now?

Now let’s just say I need to navigate away from those ideas, in-a-net dating and meeting. 14 dates potentially going nowhere just means my standards have upped. I am almost an equal opportunity dater because I will go meet almost anyone who has a pinch of charm or something to say for themselves. But I am not going to sell myself short. Not happening. If there is nobody I can tolerate for more than one or two dates because they are somehow too pushy or too vacant or vapid to get anything, well fuck it. I am good. I won’t settle.

And that is my last mention of Denver online dating for a while…I need to get outside in the flesh and remember that my penchant for analog over digital, hands down, always wins.