I am happily divorced and on good co-parenting terms with my ex, after a long separation and a lot of unnecessary drama, now amicably fathering my three spawns (ages 22, 15, and 13) with whom I spend as much time as the lot of us can stand. They'll be my priority until they can drive and make french toast without burning down the building, so understand that I may drop everything to prevent one or more of them from starting a border war with West Virginia or whatever scheme they may have cooked up at the nonce. I guess what I'm saying is that I love my kids as much as I'm scared of what sort of sociopaths they might be and I'm going to put every second I have to into guiding them through their prolonged adolescences. If you have a problem with that, then you'll have a problem with me, and neither of us need that kind of crap in our lives; ave atque vale.
I've been in and out of the dating (cess)pool over the last couple years and am dipping a toe in again despite having no tolerance for most of the general drek that accompanies men and women trying to impress one another. So I'm simultaneously enthused and reluctant to be back in this presentation of self in allegedly romantic life and already tired of the crap that we do to each other in the name of love and sex and the rest of that - and yet here I am writing stuff on the internet that will never go away. I hope the good parts will be properly cited or at least not blatantly ripped off.
(by now a lot of nominally sensible women will have clicked off to another page, so if you're still reading at this point, may the gods help you and also thank you for diving into the perilous unknown...)
By this point in my rambling blather you've surmised that I might be a difficult person. That's partially true, but not on purpose. On one hand, I feel like I've deprived myself of the joy of connecting with someone for way too long. On the other hand, I don't have the slightest interest in going through the rituals of pretending to be anything other than myself. I have lived alone for a long time and am quite comfortable with it. So know that I can be prickly at times, but often in a fun way.
(Oh yes, it's so all about me. Riiiight.)
This doesn't even scratch the surface. I pride myself on a long habit of performance poetry, talking in front of groups, writing until I cry - and just to write a simple self description? I'm stumbling with words and the emotions wrapped therein like chocolate bunnies to be saved for the holiday morning - or should I bite their luscious ears off right about now? If that makes sense to you, message me right now. If it doesn't make sense to you, don't worry, it doesn't to me either. In either case, the bunnies should be dark chocolate, 60% or better.
Still here? If I haven't frightened you off by now, you're either hopeless or wonderful. Or both. I so hope it's both.
If we wind up deciding to meet, it will either suck or be outstanding. Or maybe just plain boring. After all, I'm a middle aged academic/explorer/weirdo. Right now I'm exploring the possibilities with no expectations other than please be 1) single (or) permanently separated (or really just) available, 2) in possession of a mind and a heart and generally not (too) insane, and 3) not a smoker or a heavy stoner or a junkie. Everything else is wide open.
I am more comfortable with who I am now than I've ever been. If we have a mutual spark, let's play with it; if not, then let's not.
You're still here? You're either nuts or delicious, or maybe both. Either way, message me.