Honey, like the one you’re with.

That is all.

It’s dangerous bumbling IRL. I’m pleased to announce that Casey has been dethroned as the youngest real life Bumbler. His name is Jack, he is 26, he asked for my number after me drinking my face off at one of my favorite beer festivals, annnnndddddd, apparently I programmed myself in his phone as Caroline “The Tongue” Smith. He just called and asked me to go to coffee.

Sweet Jesus I think I’m hilarious.

Wrapping up this marriage on Thursday as the house has sold and we close at 4 PM. Steve is moving to a new house and we have to be out by Sunday at 5 PM. Once again, not sad, not pissed, not brooding – just weird.

With that, I still have a lot of shit over there. So, I went today to get the rest of it out. It’s weird getting all of my boxes of wedding pictures, dress (which I still fit into, by the way) and all of the other bullshit left over from a $25k party. (God. That was stupid.)

Looking at the pictures, I see that I look happy. Which is good. Because I can’t remember being happy at all. I knew I must have been at some point. But I found some proof today.

And then…

First Valentine’s Day being a divorcee.  And you know what?  I have not been disappointed.  Wanna know why?  I had zero expectations.  This is probably the least disappointed I’ve been on V-Day in oh, I don’t know, 14 years?  Maybe 15?  I know the power of having zero expectations, just sometimes I forget.

It really is a terrible holiday.  One of my bumble squad was telling me that one year, about 20 years ago, she was going through a particularly rough break up.  She went out with one of her best guy friends and ended up for the first and only time in her life….smoking crack.  HAHAHAHAHAHA  She said she was absolutely shit canned, was handed the pipe and smoked it, just one hit.  The next day was a hard one as she felt like a very dirty crack whore and wanted to take a bath.  But, the hot water was out in her shitty apartment so she was heating up water on the crappy gas stove and pouring it in the tub.   It all sounds very sad and a good solid reason to stay away from crack.

Steve was never very good at V-Day, or anniversaries.  Two years ago, on our anniversary, I cooked dinner (and I NEVER do that).  The kids were there, but I just thought it would be nice for us to sit and have dinner.  He came upstairs, grabbed his plate and headed back to the basement because “Phil Mickelson was getting ready to do something special” in some dumbass golf tournament.

I zipped onto Facebook last night and lo and goddamn behold, his girlfriend was in my people you may know section.  I clicked on her profile.  Believe it or not, I haven’t stalked her profile before.  And, I’ll be damned if there isn’t a picture that she posted of a group out to dinner and there she was, with Steve and MY neighbors.  She’s already Facebook friends with some of them.  Once again, I’ve already been replaced.   It just seemed like I got replaced so quickly?  As with the picture from Christmas, I’m just reminded that I never got this far when I was planning my exit.  Planned it allllllll the way up until I get replaced.

Don’t misunderstand, though.  I’m not brooding, I’m not pissed, I’m not sad.  In fact, this is probably the first Valentine’s Day in, I don’t know, we’ll shorten it to 7 years, that I won’t end up crying in the shower.  I’m fucking happy.  It’s just weird.  That’s all.

Nom nom nom

I had to swipe right on this guy. Of course he swiped right on me and it’s a match.

His profile:

My message:

I’m snarky, no doubt. But being able to hide behind the internet takes my snark to a whole new level.

Fellow Bumbler and brunch date comparing our stable. Brent made his way to both of us. #sloppyseconds

I’ve noticed as I’ve talked to fellow bumblers about our bumblees, we never call them by their actual name. I think it’s just better that way. Calling them anything other than our appointed nickname means shit could be starting to get real. It personalizes it. More importantly perhaps, it helps us keep them straight – it’s a real possibility that we could be bumbling with the same guy. It’s always fun when I get with my best bumble gal pal (she calls me her non homo girlfriend) and we whip out our phones to compare notes. “Oh yeah, I saw that guy” or “Oh shit. I think I have that guy too”

Making sure that you have enough bumblers going on at any given time is also called keeping the stable full. Gotta keep enough ponies in your stable. Because they float in and out quickly. And if you don’t have a full stable, that means you have to start from scratch and that can be exhausting. So, when you hear someone say that their stable is in good shape, know that they probably have around 4 or 5 conversations going on, could be seeing a few IRL, possibly fucking one or all of them, and probably not actively swiping. Once you get down to 2, you gotta tend to your stable.

A smattering of some of the nicknames we’ve given our ponies, past and present:

Lexington Attorney

The Plumber (that was a good phone call when one of my Bumble squad calls and said, “well, I fucked the plumber.” ) Words you just never plan on saying. Ever.

New Years Eve

Two month guy

The cleanse dude

Dirty Micah

Phone Boy

Yoga boy

Ground control to neighbor Tom (that one still makes me LOL)

The Accountant

The happy black dude

The guy who said I’ll see you later and I said no you won’t.

The Lobbyist (Actual conversation between the bumbler and her boss: Boss – What are you doing tonight? Bumbler – The Lobbyist.)

29 year old that I made out with in the bathroom at Taj

30 year old Casey (y’all remember him)

Beer guy

Lumberjack guy

The Mexican (who, incidentally, finger banged a fellow Bumbler in the men’s bathroom at Senor Frogs in Cancun. Which is awesomely dirt dirt dirrrrrty)

Eric with a c

Erik with a k

Erick with a ck

Rodger with a D

CEO

The Marine

North Carolina

The one we will never speak of again

Lexington married

Lake House

PGA

The red neck

The drunk

Stoplight Mike (of course)

Delta

The barber

-And-

The nerdy guy

Recruiting and bumbling. If this doesn’t get me a Data Scientist and a coffee, I will be super disappointed.