Champagne versus Beer

I love me some bubbly and it does not even have to be the expensive stuff, read real champagne, either. I enjoy a good bottle of sparkling white wine, mid range in price. I have never even tried Dom, Cristal, or Krug, and I am pretty sure those high end products would be lost on my palette, but I have had a passion for champagne since I first tried it. Quality beer is much the same for me. I love amazing craft beer from a micro-brewery, especially the American market craft beer. There is such a variety of flavours, mouth-feels, intensity in alcohol content, and basically, creativity. What I strongly dislike is cheap American swill beer that is mass produced with rice instead of barley; the Superbowl Clydesdales beer and its ilk in other words. Champagne makes me giggle, horny, silver-tongued and giddy, whereas cheap beer bloats me, makes me burp and pee a lot. Gee, which would you rather? 

My ex-husband was champagne, or a beautifully balanced amber ale crafted with oatmeal, a fruity yeast, and a gentle hop aftertaste. He had an incredibly long list of good qualities, and met lots of my ticky boxes at the time we met; and over time he continued to meet my expectations of what a soul-mate or life-partner needed to be. He even created new ticky boxes of qualities or traits that I did not know I desired, that I am now stuck with in my quest for the next “Mr. Right”. M’s list of bad qualities was short, but lethal, and all deal-breakers: non-communicative, liar, cheater, and polyamorous. My ex-husband was sweet, sweet champagne. Spiked with a little arsenic at the bottom of the bottle.   

A girl simply cannot downgrade from 12 years of champagne drinking to cheap stinky beer overnight, or in nine months as my case might be. Not enough time has passed, or probably could ever pass, for me to forget the sweet tangy fizz of champagne. And let me be honest with you, the market is saturated with low alcohol content, stinky, pale, sharp beer. The supermarket has cases full of the crap, and most of it is cheaper than water. Good craft beer, and champagne, are not cheap, nor are they plentiful. They are elusive, come with really witty names like Dead Guy Ale by Rogue, my favourite beer, have really cool labels, or come in beautifully shaped sleek bottles. They are, in short, the sexy stuff in the liquor store. The good stuff you bring out to impress a date, to splurge and celebrate a special occasion, or if you are me, a serious connoisseur, you enjoy on a regular basis because it is worth the price, and dammit, I am worth it!

Not only does cheap beer have market share both in the United States and my home country too, but so does that quality or mentality of man have market share on Match. com. And I am not belittling this particular website; I have said it before and I will say it again, numerous internet dating websites are being factored into my opinions. 

So far, the odds of meeting a quality person through internet dating is sitting at 20% for me. I am not using a large pool of data though. Sadly, that data pool will probably continue to grow over time as my singledom stretches into years. I know there are amazing men in the world, I have even been lucky enough to meet a few in my lifetime, but that is the sad and scary part of this story. I  have only met a few in the last 15 years, five maybe? I suppose, like craft beer or champagne, they are not mass produced, so they are not as easy to locate, but they are worth the wait and the search. 

Let me tell you about the last gentlemen that contacted me on Match.com. He started by saying that he liked my “body type” and went on to say he enjoys ABR/ANR, and would I please google those terms if I was not familiar with them. Curiosity will always get the better of me; if I was a cat I would be dead a thousand times over by now. For those innocents out there not familiar with the term, that acronym stand for Adult BreastFeeding and Adult Nursing Relationship. I engaged in a few emails back and forth because, who am I to judge if he isn’t hurting anyone? Mr. Boob said it is not a fetish per se, it is comforting and sexual at the same time. Well, a day without learning is a day we are dying I suppose; at least I got a story out of that contact. And the best line I have received on a date, so far, is, “you smell good, like a stripper good.” My girlfriends best opening line of contact thus far was from Mr. 6969 who told her she looked “yummy.” I am not even bothering to include here the several guys who randomly email me their phone numbers unsolicited.  

Needless to say this is not the type of man I want to attract, nor the man I am worthy of. As my self-esteem is increasing, so are my demands of what a potential date must present in short order to either capture or maintain my interest: intelligence, wit, confidence, good conversationalist, well-read, excited about life, interested in travel, not being obsessed with his ex, not being bitter and angry at women, generally well-adjusted, goal-orientated, and the list of champagne qualities goes on and on. I can only imagine that as my self-esteem continues to rise and I become more sure of myself in my journey, I will become even more rigid in what I will accept or not from a potential mate. For now, I am trying to view this all as a learning experience, a source of fodder for my blog and my friends, and an opportunity to possibly expand my social circle. 

Through this learning experience I have come across a new trigger I was not previously aware of: the expression, “I am what I am.” And why does this bother me when it is not that far off, on the surface, from, “it is what it is”. The difference between the two statements is actually worlds apart. One is acknowledging what is within your control to change, and what is not. When I spout “it is what it is,” I am acknowledging a frustrating external factor, like bad drivers, or bad behaviour on someone else’s part; something that is out of my control to change. For the sake of my sanity, I am relinquishing any ownership of the outer world; I am detaching from what I cannot control. 

However, we all have the power to change our behaviours or our circumstances, and that is why I am irritated by four of the five men I have dated telling me “they are who they are.” The subliminal message is either 1) I am good enough the way I am and I see no need to grow and change; or, 2) I am scared you are going to reject me, so I will rebuff you in advance by telling you to like me the way I am or leave. While I am a huge proponent of being accepted for who you are, the attitude that seems to accompany these statements is piss poor. These men do not seem at all interested in personal growth, and in fact, each has been very stuck in their ways. 

Which is why I will now add that expression to my list of red flags. I am not interested in someone who does not seek opportunity for growth, who does not challenge themselves, is self-centred or who is stuck. I want someone excited about life and all the opportunities it presents. I want someone who will challenge me with their wealth of knowledge and either begin, or participate in, a stimulating conversation about ideas or the world. I want someone who expects me to challenge them. I want to be inspired to sit taller, be greater, and do and see more. In other words, I want champagne with the surprising splash of Chambord, or Dogfish Head Breweries Black and Blue beer (it is so freaking good; you have to try it if you can find it). 

Somehow, in writing this blog and identifying my challenge in finding like minded quality people, I have been prompted to finally create my bucket list. Thus far it has eleven entries on it: four travel needs, two career goals, four activities, and lastly, to get married for a third time and make it last ‘till death do we part. Even if it requires a murder-suicide pact to get to the end. I see another marriage as being the most difficult of those 11 activities given that I will not settle for less than I deserve or less than I am willing to offer. 

I found hope today in an article at The Good Men Project: http://goodmenproject.com/featured-content/the-manliest-man-i-know-is-also-the-girliest/. This woman is marrying the man I want, and met him through an online dating website. Lucky her. 

If you need some encouragement to be the one to do the asking for a date should you find someone worthy of your time, here it is: http://goodmenproject.com/featured-content/hesaid-ladies-its-time-you-asked-a-man-on-a-date/. 

And finally, a link to an article calling me out about this entire post. Apparently I am the douche: http://www.xojane.com/sex/how-not-to-be-a-dick-while-online-dating.