Righting the Courtship

Give Me a Break.

2011-08-28T21:21:00.001-05:00

I’d been meaning to get a post out to you, dear readers, to qualify what is clearly a blogging break, but my blogging imitates life and I’ve been experiencing an extended period of apathy. Apathy about my work, about my social calendar, and certainly about boys.

It happens to me sometimes, usually after an extended period of giving to others. This year’s been a doozy, complete with out-of-town weddings, multiple babies and long-time friends moving away. It can be unbelievably draining supporting others and now that I’m through the bulk of it I find I simply want to do… nothing.

So I didn’t have the push needed to put the pencil to the paper, so to speak, until this afternoon. I was in somewhat reluctant attendance at what is becoming an annual end of summer festival. This year two worlds collided, and one set of my friends met another set, a meeting that I should have engineered years ago. As it happened, group of friends #1 included The Great Blind Date, and group of friends #2 included N, whose initial reaction upon me pointing out said failed first date was “he’s not cute enough for you”.

Now what girl doesn’t want to hear that’s she’s pretty? Even from the bias of a good friend? Girls who are truly on a break. I appreciated the compliment, but after defending The Great Blind Date’s worthiness (he was smart and funny and interesting), I realized I simply didn’t care that he hadn’t been interested. It wasn’t awkward seeing him and attempting to make small talk, it wasn’t… anything.

So that’s where we’re at. I am on an indefinite break and so is the blog. I hope to be back soon.

Going to the Chapel

2011-08-03T16:49:00.002-05:00

… where my wonderful cousin who never lost hope that she was going to get married is gonna get married! And not just married, but married to a wonderful man who loves her for the person that she is and brings out the best in her.

Which, quite honestly, is the only scenario in which one should get married. As my mother once said to me, “ anyone can get married”. It takes far less effort to get hitched than it does to find someone you truly want to share the rest of your life with.

That’s what she’s found, and I truly couldn’t be happier for her. Not just because she no longer has to date, which is reward in itself, but because despite making it to her early 30’s without having found her mate, she DID meet him. And they fell in love, and bought a house and a puppy and she’s so happy she says she has to pinch herself sometimes to believe that it’s true.

Of course I will be reprising my usual role of bridesmaid, with the added notch to MOH, which translates much closer to “Maid of Helping with every imaginable detail associated to a wedding that isn’t even yours” than “Maid of Honor”. I am honored, though, having beat out a sister and sister-in-law for the title, and I certainly have the skills for it. I even have almost everything you need for the wedding day emergency kit on hand in my condo.

So please join me in toasting to the health and happiness of the bride and groom, to an above-average selection of vodka at the bar, and that this will be my last run as a bridesmaid (or at least the maid part). Congratulations!

Slow Motion Man

2011-07-27T15:50:00.005-05:00

smart, nice, architect
moving so slow we have stopped
still can’t build me love

You know that commercial for Jimmy Dean breakfast snacks where the little kid gets slowed waaaay down by the evil Slow Motion clock guy when he's running around in the gym? No? Well check it out here and then get back to reading because that's what appears to have happened with The Architect.

He’s the little kid being slowed down, and I’m the Jimmy Dean sun guy, throwing turkey sausages at him to try to give him the motivation to get going (I have no idea who the clock is in this analogy, I just really get a kick out of this line of commercials).

But despite him confirming he was interested and me clarifying that my interest was contingent on actually spending time with him, it seems we’ve slowed down even more than the initial slow down that prompted me questioning his interest in the first place. And lest you think that I’m rushing things, I’m talking about chatting over email a few times a week, hanging out maybe once a week and capping that hanging out with some old school make out activity, circa the 9th grade (or at least my 9th grade, I was good).

What’s happened instead is that after I reached out a few times, and saw him once, with not so much as a hand on my knee to indicate any physical interest, I have not heard from him at all. In two full weeks.

I am a lot of things dear readers, but delusional is not one of them. I know that I demonstrated clear and continued interest that has not been returned. And that even though there are plenty of reasons why someone might suddenly drop out of play, they all boil down to just one: “I’m not that into you”.

So no matter how awesome the custom wine cellar The Architect could have designed for my future single family home in the city could have been, I’m officially calling this one. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some delicious breakfast snacks to enjoy.

Fireworks.

2011-07-21T09:51:00.001-05:00

I just made an amazing connection on a first date. We were sitting outside on my balcony, enjoying some fireworks and beers on a gorgeous summer night. We had everything in common. He has friends with a house on the same lake my parents do. He’s obsessed with the Midwest beer festival I go to every year (making me awesome, in his words). We talked about cycling, Champbana, water skiing, red wine…

The thing is, it wasn’t my first date, it was my neighbor’s. And I was on a date of my own, so to speak.

I had invited The Architect over as part of my “I’m pretty sure we’re heading down the friends path but I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt” outreach program, and in a sangria-induced high my neighbor G and I had decided we should make it a double date so she tacked on the fireworks at the end of her first date she was in the midst of planning.

Things were going pretty well, I thought, given the randomness of the guest list, but then I noticed that he and I were doing most of the talking. When G and I stepped back inside to replenish the beverages I checked in with her to see how the earlier portion of the date had gone. And apologized for monopolizing him during the conversation. We joked about her giving me his number, but I’m pretty sure we just had common interests, not boyfriend-girlfriend chemistry.

As for the actual connection I was trying to develop, I can’t say I made any progress there, although we did find another crazy overlap. The Architect used to be neighbors with one of my current neighbor pals, a fact we realized when we spotted her outside walking the dogs. We all headed into the hallway for a meet and greet before winding down our evening.

I guess there weren’t any real love sparks flying around that night, I received a hug for my efforts and a terribly vague statement about getting together again some time.

And G? She got a hug, too, but I think she’s going to give her guy an actual shot as part of her “maybe I should date someone different than I usually do” plan. I think he’s a good choice, I mean he’s into everything I like so that’s probably more an endorsement for me, but we’re friends so it stands she’d like him too, right?

Back on Track. I Think.

2011-07-16T21:07:00.003-05:00

Well. I can’t say that the break had quite the intended effect. In fact, it was lasting a lot longer than I had anticipated without any indication whatsoever from The Architect that he was interested in seeing me in person again.

It seems the only thing he wants to do is wish me a good morning via one of those pesky one-line emails. Or he shares those details about one’s life that I’d prefer to wait to learn until an actual relationship has commenced, since they in no way add to my desire to see him naked. You know, like that he’s been pounding water to encourage pee breaks at the office since his work load is so high. Or that he has a headache, but he didn’t drink any alcohol the night before, just a lot of iced tea.

I was finding myself losing interest, but I’d really thought the The Architect had some potential, excessive water drinking notwithstanding, so I put my big girl pants on and straight up asked him what was up.

I asked him whether he saw us in the friend zone or the dating zone… and that I’d been feeling the friend vibe from him so I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. He said he was interested in me “more than a friend”, but that he liked to take things slow so they didn’t burn out. I reciprocated the interest, and said that I could appreciate a slower speed, but that I’d need things to at least be moving forward. I defined moving forward as seeing each other on a semi-regular basis. We’re at close to two weeks since our last get together, for those of you keeping track at home.

He appreciated my perspective, agreed with my position. So... great! I had put myself out there and now we were back on track.

Or we would be, anyway, assuming he reaches back out sometime in the semi-near future.

One date, Two date, Three date, Break!

2011-07-07T13:45:00.002-05:00

Drinks… check. Dinner… check. Movie… check. The Architect and I managed to sail through three dates in a little over a week, which isn’t a record for me but is pretty darn close. The frequency was in part due to the ridiculously overbooked, out of town summer schedule I’m working my way through, but honestly I think I liked seeing him.

I was starting to wonder where things were headed, though, since we hadn’t really made any progress on the making out scene. Truth be told, I was a teensy bit worried about it. In admitted double-standard fashion, when someone’s very into me physically I tend to discount his interest, but when someone seems genuinely interested in me sans the physical I suddenly feel… slighted. I mean, didn’t he want to make out with me?

I reviewed the evidence while we were on a work and travel schedule imposed break on any new dates:

Frequent communications… check. There was an almost daily communication initiated by him, usually those one-line, check in type messages (which I hate, but am trying to see as thoughtful). Great conversation… check. Every time we ended up chatting, in phone or in person I was completely engaged in talking to him and we rarely had any of those weird pauses. Attraction… check. At least for me, anyway. Something about this man was definitely desirable to me and I consistently felt like I was leaning in, trying to coax him into making a move (yes, I can make moves myself; I guess I just wanted him to).

Yep, everything a budding relationship needed seemed to be there. Maybe I was jumping the gun just a little, there was plenty of time for The Architect‘s affections to go straight from barely noticeable to downright smothering.

And perhaps the break would help. You know, so he could miss me. And so I could figure out some more effortless adorable outfits. Dating so frequently has been hell on my relatively lazy fashion sense.

First Date High

2011-06-30T13:38:00.003-05:00

You know that crazy high you get when you have a great first date? When your mind swims with visions of you and your clearly-soon-to-be-new-boyfriend going on trips and holding hands while strolling about? When you’re so drunk with the promise this new relationship holds that you tell all your girlfriends about it, gushing about all the reasons you like him?

I feel that way right now, minus the gushing. I simply am not a gusher. I’m sure the crash is coming, but in the meantime, let’s all bask in the glow of that rarity that is the great first date.

It took about a week of emailing with The Architect to get the meet up in person, and it’s a good thing, too, since despite having only been chatting for a relatively short time I was starting to cross over into that dangerous place where I really like a guy on paper (or internet paper, anyway) and start panicking that the in-person interaction simply won’t match up.

It did, though. The Architect was normal cute and above-normal smart. We have lots of things in common. Like he drunk paints and I drunk clean. And we both like the driving range more than the actual golf course. And, very important, we both like PBR.

He seemed laid back, which is probably a good counterpoint for me, but passionate and opinionated at the same time. We were mutually impressed by the other’s careers. He’s grows strawberries on his deck and had the latest scoop on the NFL lock out. He’s a gentleman and I didn’t feel smothered letting him be one.

If anything he was more engaging than I’d found him in our very conversational emails. So much so that I resorted to slapping my hands over my mouth to stop myself from constantly interrupting him. He said it was adorable, but I’m guessing he wouldn’t have if he realized it was also keeping me from leaning over and kissing him right there at the bar.

It was like the longer we sat there the more attractive he became, and not because I had several beers over the course of our 3 hrs plus date, because I also had snacks during that time. There was just something about him.

He’s already suggested that we get together again and I (embarrassingly) can’t wait to see him. I hope he comes through, ‘cause I’m gonna need another hit of this stuff soon.

Everything I Need to Know I Learned from Google

2011-06-24T16:46:00.002-05:00

After receiving an email back from The Architect I decided to Google his screen name, since it looked a lot like his real name. Turns out it was, and there were a few links associated directly to him that returned. Not too many, though, just enough confirm his identity/job and pique my interest a bit more.

First, one of those websites that pulls information from other websites and then pretends you have a profile on their site came back with the small town in Michigan that my very good friend is from. The Architect had mentioned that he was from that state, and I was conveniently having drinks with that gal later that very day. I shot off a quick email to see if she knew him.

Second, the following question asked 6 months ago on one of those “how to get a job” websites: Is there any employers that will accept people with a felony conviction? Ignoring the obvious grammar error, I was momentarily concerned. I wasn’t able to pull back any information about the poster of the question, but a quick check of his LinkedIn profile assured me that six months ago The Architect was gainfully employed. Hopefully that clears that up.

The most intriguing thing that came up was that he appears to be kind of an artist. Off his LinkedIn profile he had a personal website, which linked to a Facebook album, with all these paintings and drawings that he had done. Maybe there was even a sculpture in there. I just glanced through them, though, too much investigation and I’ll appear like a stalker.

Not bad for 15 minutes, eh? I love the Internets.

I Love a Good ‘Stache.

2011-06-22T09:41:00.004-05:00

After last week’s moment of weakness surrounding Summer Boy I realized I had been right. The only way to move past someone – or the lack of someone – is to find someone new. And better. Better for me, anyway. So I bit the bullet and re-instated my old online dating profile. The free one, of course, while I begrudgingly realize that I need the internets to find available men, I am certainly not on board with throwing any more of my hard earned cash at those sites.

Turns out it wasn’t so bad, there were some good finds out on good ‘ole OK Cupid! And some old friends, like the Karaoke King, who viewed my profile shortly after it re-posted. I decided not to return the viewing.

I did, however, send a few (two) emails to particularly good postings in an effort to be an active dater. I almost never send initial communications, despite being a (relatively) good writer, I find that I consistently fall short on the introductory email. Or at least that’s how it seems, since I have a very poor return percentage on initiating contact.

I’m trying to do something different than I have before, though, so I came up with a new strategy and decided to keep the emails short. A sentence or two complimenting something specific I had enjoyed about their profile and then an invitation to chat further should they be interested.

They went out to two gents, who drew me in with these details:

The Architect, whose pictures include done of him with an awesome fake mustache. I heart mustaches.
The Church Musician, whose profile included that he makes pie. I too, am a successful pie-maker.

So far I’ve received back and email from The Architect as well as some other random whose profile I hadn’t yet viewed. One out of two! That ain’t bad.

You Can Run but You Can't Hide

2011-06-16T16:38:00.003-05:00

From your feelings, that is. You can avoid them for awhile, sure, by distracting yourself with anything you can find – boys, work, boys, running, boys – but eventually they’ll catch up with you and you’ll have to deal with them.

I am a master at avoiding my feelings; sometimes I hide them from myself so cleverly I literally am not aware that I’ve done it. They usually smack me down with excessive force well after the incident that caused them and then I’m stuck wading through them trying to figure out where they came from and why I ignored them in the first place. Ironically I often work through them while running.

I miss Summer Boy. There, I said it. I also said it in a text message I drunkenly drafted while out recently. I didn’t send it, thank god, but only because I’d deleted him out of my contacts after the first text I had sent him (which was a normal, albeit random, Saturday night text).

I have to say I thought I had already dealt with my feelings on this one. In fact, I’d been pretty impressed with how I hadn’t been missing him, how I hadn’t reached out when he left Chicago, how I really hadn’t felt any need to reach out to him since.

So what gives? I can’t tell if I miss him, specifically, or if I just miss having a go-to guy, but I do know that something has to be done about the weird, achy feeling I’ve started having on my insides.

I feel like I should go meet someone new, that as soon as I do I’ll stop feeling sentimental about Summer Boy, but I can’t help but drag my feet.

Because I hate dating. There, I said that, too. I hate it, and I don’t want to do it anymore and I don’t think I should have to. I was optimistic, I was hopeful! I went on many, many dates with all sorts of guys and I have nothing to show for it.

Come to think of it, despite a brief period around the start of the year I don’t think I ever really got back into first dates after I went on break last summer. My break of course, coincided with Summer Boy’s entrée into my life, which was unexpected and fun and easy.

So I guess that explains that. I miss Summer Boy because I hate dating. Therapy session over.

Best of Both Worlds

2011-06-12T11:52:00.002-05:00

In the end I made my decision based purely on my love of German festivals. I had to rearrange my entire day, and hit all my pre-bachelorette events in my bachelorette outfit, but it was worth it for the 90 minutes or so I spent with friends, a large stein of bier (okay, two steins), some sort of tasty German sausage-jerky and a pretzel.

Turns out it I had been thinking about it all wrong. As soon as I thought it about it based on what I wanted to do, I didn’t even care whether The Great Blind Date was there. Or Marathon Guy. Or even The Bowler. If I ran into them I’d run into them (looking fabulous, as it happened).

I didn’t see any of them, though. It was a German Fest miracle!

Of course I’d like to think it wouldn’t have mattered if I had. I’m perfectly capable of being cordial with all manner of exes, but it’s nice when you don’t have to be. When you can just enjoy yourself without feeling like at any moment you might need to duck behind the sausages.

I got to have my bier and drink it too! Cheers to that.

Moment of Truth

2011-06-08T08:43:00.001-05:00

Ugh, already? Before I knew it the first opportunity to not let being rejected by The Great Blind Date get in the way of shared social events has popped up on my calendar. Ironically it’s for the spring version of the festival we originally met at (see many, many posts on German Fest shenanigans).

Normally I’d be attending this particular fest, whether with this crew or another, but I have a conflict in the form of a bachelorette party. And normally I’d be happy to add some pre-drinking to a bachelorette event, but this one starts mid-afternoon so I’d basically be extending my expected drinking window to a full 12 hours.

If my first reservation was all day drinking, then my second was the possibility that The Great Blind Date would be there. Prior to recent events I’m pretty sure I had a tendency to ignore him, likely because I had our friend in my sub-conscious telling me we’d make a great couple, but I couldn’t ignore him now. I’d have to be social, despite the teeny bit of wounded pride I’m still carrying. It’s just a bit… too… soon.

Not that I haven’t found ways to make myself feel better about it. Oh shit. Marathon Guy’s probably going to be there, too. This could have some benefit in that I would already be traipsing around with a replacement, but then I’d probably have to meet his friends, and I definitely don’t want to do that if I’m just going to flake on him (likely). Now it just seems a bit… too…. much.

First awkward run-in first. I scanned the “Awaiting Reply” on the FB invite, and – yay! – The Great Blind Date wasn’t on it. But then I checked the “Attending” and of course he is.

Now if I decide to go I’ll think that he’ll think I’m going because he’ll be there. And if I decide not to go I’ll think everyone will be thinking that it’s because he’ll be there and RSVP’d first (I know this is probably an exaggeration of the amount of thought anyone but me is giving this event. I’m okay with that.)

It’ll have to be a game day decision. Stay tuned, dear readers.

I am Really Going to Miss This

2011-06-04T15:37:00.002-05:00

I think you know what comes next, dear readers. Despite being thwarted by Yahoo the next time I had a few cocktails in me I couldn’t resist finding Marathon Guy’s phone number and sending him a text message. What? Like I was going to let a little thing like deleting every single email stop me?

You can improve technology all you want, but there’s always a paper trail. And by paper I mean online pdf versions of my cell phone bills which fortunately started with my new carrier *just* before I stopped talking to Marathon Guy last fall.

I tell you one thing that I’m going to miss if I ever find myself find myself in a monogamous relationship - randomly text messaging old flames and having it turn into unexpected meet ups. In this case, meet ups that come with shoulder rubs.

You can’t beat it! Especially when he showed up here, after suggesting said rub free all on his own! I had truly texted him about the hot dog stand - which apparently is very loud and all the neighbors are up in arms about it – although I know better than to say I didn't think there was a possible, albeit outside, chance that it might lead to more.

But I let him drive the meet up all on his own. It appears all it takes to invite such suggestions is one well placed text message. Sometimes I love being single.

Did You Know You Can Restore Your Gmail Contacts?

2011-06-01T19:27:00.001-05:00

I didn’t! But learning this makes it even better that I use my Gmail for personal emails – almost never for maybe new boyfriend communications – and my Yahoo for my non-associated-to-me-in-anyway emails. I’d be surprised if Yahoo had a way to recover contacts, not that I’m going to find out for sure, and that is a good thing in the land of dating.

I’m a gal who needs to cut ties in order to move on, and to do that I need to erase all ways to get in touch with my ex-interests. Otherwise I’ll get mopey about being single, have one too many glasses of wine, and then reopen the lines of communication. This will usually result in weeks of wasted back and forth with someone who’s on the ex list for a reason.

Sometimes I’m not mopey and drunk, though, sometimes I believe my intentions are purely innocent (which they’re not, of course, how could they be?). Like just last week I heard on the news that this building that has been fighting to open will be opening as a Maxwell Street (classic Chicago polish place). Apparently the neighborhood is all up in arms and thinks they will be flooded by noise and hoodlums if they start selling hot dogs and Italian sausage sandwiches 24-hours a day. As soon as I saw it I wanted to tell Marathon Guy.

You see last fall when we were attempting to date again we walked past that building, which looked like a big white washed rectangle, and tried to figure out what it was supposed to be. It didn’t look like it would have much room for a kitchen, but I think maybe Marathon Guy thought it could have had a future life as some sort of hot dog stand.

As far as I know he was planning to move out of that neighborhood anyway, but I couldn’t help but want to tell him he’d been right! Not as a way to re-open communication, I swear, just to be able to share the updated information with the only person I could have.

But I couldn’t, because I’d purged him, purged him good. Every email in every folder – even search didn’t return him. He’d never transitioned to my real email, so I had no way to recover him. And that is probably for the best, for a lot of reasons, despite having spent about 15 minutes trying to see if I could still find him. Thanks, Yahoo, for keeping me in line.

Please Stop Saying That.

2011-05-28T14:55:00.002-05:00

So after a breezy response from The Great Blind Date and one other email back from me I never heard back. And I was a bit disappointed, because he seemed to have some potential. Plus this particular disappointment had to be explained in a neutral way to my friend, who had expressed such high hopes for him and me. I felt a bit like I was letting her down, not being someone her friend wanted to date.

I felt a lot worse for me, of course, not being someone this guy wanted to date. And I shared this sentiment with more than one gal pal who were quick to say something like “don’t worry, you’ll meet the right guy” and other upbeat, unqualified nonsense phrases. I want people to stop saying things like that.

They might not actually be true, for one thing, and if anyone knew whether it was true you can bet your ass it isn’t my friend. Or my Magic8ball, for that matter. It doesn’t make me feel better, for another, it actually makes me feel worse. Trying to convince me that it’s just a matter of time before my Mr. Right appears only highlights the fact that he hasn’t, and it's getting harder not to feel like it’s at least partially my fault.

Without throwing myself a pity party, the older I get the more I think that my non-single friends just can’t help me as a single gal. How could they? They’ve already found their Mr. Rights, and what they remember about dating was forever ago. In fact, some of them are starting to get downright nostalgic about it. I know many of them have experienced the emotional roller coaster that dating can be, but not for nearly as long as I have.

I just don’t think they realize how draining it becomes. Oh sure, sometimes it’s fun, but over time it just turns into a huge waste of time and emotion and money and the perfect “I was at work but I’m still cute enough to meet you directly after” outfits. It’s exhausting.

I know they mean well. But to all you happy married folks with single friends, next time they come crying about some dating disaster do them a favor and just acknowledge the obvious. Dating sucks and you don’t envy them. Then you should offer to buy them a drink.

IIIIII’mmm Breezy!

2011-05-21T13:11:00.001-05:00

And so was the email I sent The Great Blind Date. I had a follow up to something we had chatted about on our date and I also said it was really nice seeing him the day before at our friend’s event. It was the only move I felt comfortable making, and I use the word “move” with great exaggeration.

I also used the word “really” with exaggeration, it was just normal nice to see him, but G thought I should add it. We had talked at our friend’s get together, there were maybe some almost moments between us, but he arrived very late and left sort of abruptly so there was no indication that he was planning to see or talk to me after that party.

There’s nothing really misleading about the interaction I’ve been having with The Great Blind Date, there’s just the absence of clear direction. I don’t know him that well, but I have the impression if he was interested, I’d know. And if he’s on the fence it couldn’t hurt to let him know I’d say yes. Enter the breezy email.

I wonder if what I’m feeling is what my ex-suitors felt when they were getting to know me? That I seemed polite and social, but not necessarily into them? Seems likely. When I’m still weighing in on someone I don’t act interested, but I don’t act uninterested either.

It’s not that bad, being on the receiving end of it. Now I just have to wait to see what he does. Easy breezy.

The Great Blind Date

2011-05-17T09:34:00.001-05:00

I’m not sure why I resisted getting to know Blind Date #1 for all these years, because he’s great. We went out for drinks and snacks – I find that sharing food is an excellent first date indication of compatibility (and/or sense of adventure, if the right location is chosen) – and I found him surprisingly engaging.

He’s smart, he’s attractive in that excellent not-too-attractive way, he’s smart, we have plenty of overlapping interests, oh and did I mention he’s smart? I feel the need to reiterate this one part not because this guy’s a crazy intellectual, but because he has opinions and he’s able to articulate and support them with actual details.

I’m interested, somewhat surprisingly, but definitely interested. And this is where it gets tricky.

When I can take or leave someone, I usually drive the conversation and help to make it interesting. This often results in the guy thinking we had a great date, and me thinking, eh, it was okay. But when I’m paying attention, when my interest is piqued, I think I get… nervous. I think I pull back physically, like crossing my arms or not making eye contact or whatever those subconscious body language signals are.

This is no good, for obvious reasons. Besides the fact that he may not think I like him, I’m left with that terribly uneasy feeling of not being able to read whether he likes me. So I start second guessing myself, was I too chatty? Not funny enough? Did he think I was attractive? I think these are probably good signs, that it matters to me what my date thought of me, but they make me super uncomfortable.

At least I'll have another chance with Blind Date #1, who I can’t seem to find a blog-appropriate nickname for despite thinking about it on and off for a few days, because we’re both attending a get together hosted by our mutual friend.

I had been holding off on my official RSVP until I had met up with him, but as we were ending our date he encouraged me to attend. I said I would be there. Hopefully I can get my nerves under control by then.

April Showers Bring May… Blind Dates?

2011-05-14T10:14:00.004-05:00

Friday night I had a few neighbors over for drinks and dinner, and one of my neighbors asked if she could bring a guy for me. Man, when it rains date referrals from friends it pours! She had apparently just purchased furniture from him although he at one time was an actor and had been on 90210 (the original, I assume) and thought he was funny and good looking and sweet because he was taking his aunt out to dinner so would it be okay if he came later? I said sure, it was already going to one of those get togethers.

The group was pretty sauced by the time he arrived, so I’ll give it to him for being able to fit in easily. He seemed like a good guy, despite asking me at least three times whether I was sure that AT&T had blocked Swype from my phone (I am as of what the internets told me last time I checked) and whether I’d read all the books on my book shelves (I have, except for White House Ghosts). I’m guessing there’s more to him under the surface of his West Coast demeanor… he did specifically ask about a historical work I had on the shelf and recommended one of his favorites. And he brought homemade wine with him, which was half way decent when mixed in with my sangria.

I didn’t really make an effort to get to know him, though, and he left to meet up with other friends about an hour after arriving, so I was surprised when my neighbor asked me what I wanted her to tell him when he asked her about me.

"You think he’s going to ask about me?", I responded, thinking that we’d barely interacted and I hadn’t been very outgoing. "Uh, yeah", she replied, and when I thought about it we had really both seen all we’d needed to in order to know whether we were interested in a second get together.

It was pleasantly efficient, much better than a drawn out actual first date. And with my recent first date under my belt (which I promise I'll be telling you about soon enough!), I could really see the benefit of comparison shopping for boyfriends. You see this guy was okay, but he wasn’t as good at Blind Date #1. This guy was like waterproof shoes that get the job done, but Blind Date #1 had the potential to be that perfect pair of wellies that you find you simply cannot live without. You know, like when it's raining all the time?

He’s a Laywer. Or a Dentist.

2011-05-09T09:33:00.002-05:00

One of my character flaws is that I have a hard time focusing. Often this translates to me not listening to people. Not because I’m not a good listener, I have an excellent memory and can almost always read between the lines. No, it’s because I’m simply not paying attention to what someone is saying when they say it. I’m focused elsewhere, like on the sports that are playing behind the person talking.

Sometimes it doesn’t matter, I never see the people I wasn’t listening to again. More often than not it comes back to bite me, like when friends of friends tell me their names but I’m too busy sipping my drink to retain it. Then I start running into those folks over and over again and they remember me and while I can place them, I can’t recall their name to save my life.

This appears to have happened with Blind Date #1. We originally met at German Fest, and while I may have been paying attention on that day I was also drinking large steins of beir. But while I’ve been given the spiel on him over and over by my gal pal, obviously I wasn’t ever listening. Because I think he’s a lawyer. Or a dentist.

As my brother pointed out, these are not at all the same. No, no they’re not. But I also happen to think he works for – or took over – a family business. And both of these professions would lend themselves to that additional partially remembered tidbit.

It doesn’t matter what he does, of course, but it might score me some bonus points for remembering it despite having not spent any real time chatting with him over the past several years.

He’s a lawyer, as it turns out. We are headed out on our first date later this week, as he'll be in the city for court. Unless he’ll be there testifying as an oral health expert, like those 3 out of 4 guys recommending Colgate, in which case he’s a dentist.

I've Already Met My Future Husband!

2011-05-04T15:33:00.006-05:00

(not to be confused with I’ve Just Met Your Future Husband)

Things took a turn for the perplexing today when I decided to take a mental break from an overwhelming workload and ask my Magic 8ball a series of questions.

Question 1: Will I hear back from Blind Date 1? Asked after close to a two-day lag time in response to my email, which was a response to his first email to me after the FB introduction. Note: I wasn’t really worried. Yet.
Answer 1: No. Ouch, really?

Question 2: Is it because of the email I sent? Meaning, is there something about my email that is making him reluctant to write back? The Magic 8ball and I go way back, he understands what my questions mean even if the words are a bit off. I would have found a negative answer to this pretty discouraging, as I had thought my email was quite good. Open, interested, etc.
Answer 2: Very doubtful. Well that’s good, but maybe Magic 8ball doesn’t have a good read on my Blind Date. It would be pretty shitty for someone to invite you to drinks and then not accept your acceptance of said drinks.

Question 3: Will I ever hear back from my old friend? Asked because I really hadn’t, not since that terrible non-date, and that included a weekend when he was in town but clearly didn’t want to hang out with me.
Answer 3: My sources say no. Oh, bummer.

Question 4: Is it because he’s gotten back together with an ex? Asked because the only explanation I can come up with for his now reluctance to be friends is that he’s pursuing a romantic relationship and feels weird about me.
Answer 4: As I see it Yes. Man, boys are so dumb. Plus, which ex?!

I feel the need to share this latest insight with N, over gchat. She asks if I’ve ever asked the Magic 8ball whether I’ve already met my future husband. I didn't think I had, probably because it would just make me feel depressed since I wasn't anywhere near making it down the aisle with my spouse-to-be, despite having met him. And probably dated him in some fashion. But I'm not getting any younger, so...

Question 5: Have I already met my future husband?
Answer 5: Without a doubt.

Yikes. Well I guess that justifies having shut down my online dating, since I have no problem running into people I already know despite the size of the Chi. N wonders whether it’s someone I don’t even remember having met?

I don’t need my Magic 8ball to answer this one: Most likely. Now if I could just figure out which one he is...

I Have Blind Date For You

2011-04-29T10:11:00.002-05:00

Sunday night I was prepping for beddy-bye when I got a text message from a gal pal that started with “I have blind date for you”. Although the rest of the text read like a message from a friend, something about that first line made me think I was being spammed. “Are you serious?” I replied, trying to draw out whether some random non-native English speaker had gotten a hold of my friend’s cell. She replied in the affirmative, along with some useful adjectives describing her find.

I never get to go on blind dates! Obviously the allure of something I haven’t experienced makes them more appealing then they’ll likely turn out to be, but still. So I thanked her for thinking of me and told her she could introduce us.

After a few back and forth texts she came back with “I have not one, but two dates for you!” and proceeds to give me the scoop on the good friend of hers that she has been suggesting I date for approximately 6 years. It appears we are both single. Can she introduce us, too?

I wasn’t against the idea, but I was a little concerned about two blind date prospects at once. It’s time consuming enough getting to know one person, let along multiple. Plus overlapping time frames results in comparison shopping. Well comparison dating, I mean. It’s unavoidable.

I asked her whether she wanted to do that, pit her longtime fave against some old co-worker, but it was too late. She’d already sent Facebook messages to each of us.

They basically went like: Dater at Large, Blind Date. Blind date, Dater at Large. Discuss.

I wasn’t sure what I thought her internet introduction would be, but I guess I thought it would have more… content. Something to go off of, other than our Facebook profile pictures. Now for the one guy that I’d already met, I knew I’d be able to write something, but for the other guy, the one I didn’t know at all, I have to say I was a little stumped.

Best to let the boys reach out first. They are competing for me, after all.

I've Been Pirated!

2011-04-25T14:22:00.000-05:00

That’s right folks, in what I can only assume is a terrible movie adaptation of what I thought was a very decent book, “sexy time” has made its screen debut. The movie is Eat, Pray, Love, and the scene is in the Love portion of the book, when the heroine is visiting the medicine lady to treat her bladder infection.

Paraphrased the lady says, “This is common when you have no sex and then lots of sexy time.” Paraphrased, of course, because I'm not going to rent the movie just to correctly quote my STOLEN phrase! And I don’t have to hear it myself, when I have friends who will bring it to my attention because they know that phrase is mine!

Thieves! I feel like I finally understand Paris Hilton’s frustration. On the one hand it is ridiculous to copyright sayings. On the other, I think I deserve some credit for spreading the use of my phrase such that it made it into a movie script!

At least it was used correctly.

Come About?

2011-04-20T09:45:00.001-05:00

Now that you all know the term “non-date”, let’s see if we can use it in a sentence. Last weekend I went on the worst non-date of all time. I was bowling. In the suburbs. In a shopping mall.

You might be asking yourself how this could have happened, how a self-proclaimed-city-snob-who-only-feels-slightly-guilty-about-said-snobbishness ended up in the basement of a mall on a Saturday night, on a non-date no less.

The condensed version is that I was hoping to catch up in person with an old friend of mine. A friend that I never dated, but did hold hands with for a brief period of time in high school. We were friends for years after that, and drifted apart as friends often do. I had been missing this friend’s friendship, which is why I got back in touch, and I had really been enjoying getting to know him again while reminiscing about old times.

During this primarily text messaging catch-up, I did think it was possible I still held something of a torch for this man. I couldn’t be sure whether it was my nostalgia for days past or whether my guard was way down because he’s seen me in all manner of teenage stupidity, but I thought maybe there was something there. But most importantly I was glad to have my friend back, and I hoped that whether we discovered a romantic connection or not that I would get to keep him.

When this friend told me that he was going to be in town and wanted to get together I was excited about seeing him in person. I was nervous, too, texting is certainly not the same as face to face interaction, but I figured it would probably be like old times.

His original suggestion was that just he and I get together, a non-date if you will. Then he expanded to a double non-date, in which he suggested we hang out with married friends of mine (he knows the husband). I thought this was a good option; it might make it more social, less “date”, and would probably be really fun. This is how we got to bowling in the suburbs, despite a tremendous lack of communication and/or interest in planning on his part. Day of he added a friend of his, and by this time his extreme delay in responding to anything and continued expansion of the guest list led me to believe he just wasn’t interested in spending time with me.

Nevertheless I geared up and found that the ridiculousness of the event made me much more positive about the whole thing. I mean, my friend was wearing sequins. It was all for naught, though, because the moment I arrived the casual chatting the group was doing stopped cold and we never really got it back.

It was… a disaster. I can count on two hands the number of words my friend and I spoke to each other. I don’t think he made eye contact with me the entire night. I made some efforts early on but it was so unexpected I had a hard time recovering from the embarrassment of the whole thing.

Or the anger that directly followed the embarrassment. In all the iterations I had run through of how the get together might go, never had I expected to be ignored. While surrounded by friends. After I had driven out to the goddamn suburbs to see him. Turns out you can be just as confused by a non-date as a date-date.

The Non-Date

2011-04-14T19:30:00.001-05:00

I am known for my phrases - I'm a repeat phrase user at best, abuser at worst – and I always get a kick out of other people embracing mine as their own. I usually pull these phrases from movies or TV sometimes but sometimes I create them on my own.

It’s been rumored that I’m responsible for the resurgence of the term "ginormous", and it's subsequent inclusion in Webster’s Dictionary, although I can’t take credit for its inception or my usage of it (stolen from the excellent holiday film, Elf). And while I’m the undisputed originator of “sexy time”, my term for all things involving naked or scantily clad activities, I coined another phrase years and years ago that I suddenly find myself using again.

Non-date (nŏn-dāt)
n. 1. a. An engagement to go out socially with another person, often out of potential, noted by others around you, but not-willing-to-act-on-it romantic interest. b. One's companion on such an outing.
v. non-dat•ed, non-dat•ing, non-dates
v.tr. 1. To go on a non-date or non-dates with.
v.intr. 2. To go on non-dates.

When I was in my early twenties I had a knock-down-drag-out crush on a co-worker. We worked in small quarters on a close knit team of over worked and over intoxicated consultants, and during the course of a year or so it became clear to everyone that whatever was happening between us definitely crossed the professional and platonic lines.

We walked the line, that's for sure, discussing intimate details about each other’s romantic relationships with other people, but then getting into these emotional, drunken conversations after nights out that I couldn’t possibly remember the premise of. I do remember walking home about a mile one night during a snowstorm, in flats, after dramatically exiting a taxi cab he and I were sharing. We let our social circles overlap, and our professional ones, too, deciding to attend our holiday Christmas party together one year.

Everyone already thought we were dating on the not-so-secret-sly (This was obviously their oversight; I am nothing if not an incredible secret keeper. If I had been dating someone on the DL, it would actually have been secret.) so I’m not exactly sure why we fed into it, but it’s when I introduced the term “non-date”.

I used it to explain how we were going to an event together as dates, but not romantic dates. It had all the trappings of a date, you see, we went to the event with another real couple, and he actually picked me up in the cab on the way to the event. And we went to after party events together, and the after-after bar, too, but we weren’t a couple. Despite making the arrangements to attend the event together we also made repeated, loud proclamations that we were not involved like that.

For years I believed if you didn’t use the term, didn’t call something what you didn’t want it to be, that it wasn’t that. Truth be told I still that feel way a bit, I hate qualifying (or promoting) relationships and men to a level I don’t consider them. Words like dating, boyfriend, relationship. I can’t tell you how many times I say “it’s not a date” and “he’s not my boyfriend”.

Words have meaning, but persistent avoidance of them has just as much meaning sometimes. Things are what they are. It doesn’t matter what you call them.

Except of course with my old co-worker. We really were non-dating; we were good friends with ill-timed crushes on each other and too much access to alcohol. Sometimes I miss those days.

Free to a Good Home

2011-03-31T14:46:00.001-05:00

Quite unexpectedly, Summer Boy and I crossed paths again and on a whim decided to go out for drinks. He and I have never gone out for drinks, and we haven’t spoken in months, either, but I simply couldn’t resist when the opportunity presented itself. Besides, he’s leaving the great city of Chicago later this month and deserves a proper send off.

We had an excellent time, next day hangovers notwithstanding. He is as great a guy as I thought he was and I still think we would have made a great couple.

We’re heading our separate ways, though, which means he’s available to a good central Illinois single gal. That’s right; I have the perfect guy for you! I never thought I’d be plugging an ex (although technically we never dated) on my dating blog, but the Universe sometimes has ideas of his own.

He’s quite a catch. He’s a guy’s guy, which in my terms means he knows how to use tools and a grill, and will humor only so much of your girly crap. He’s got a soft side, too, which makes for a nice balance. He’s a gentleman, but not the kind that makes a show of it. He’s athletic, and likes but doesn’t obsess over sports. He snuggles without smothering. He’s attractive, and not just looks wise. I think he’s one of those guys everyone gets along with. He loves his family, and I’m pretty sure wants one of his own. Also, he’s great in the sack.

Well, he is.

There you have it. Should you be interested, please contact me for further details and contact information. Serious inquiries only!

Spring Break

2011-03-17T16:31:00.005-05:00

That's right, dear readers, this gal's earned herself some hard earned time off. Time off from work, time off from assisting in the planning of other people’s weddings and most awesomely, time off from trying to interpret whether a potential interest is or is not actually interested.

Warm weather and the beach are calling, but not before I find the the time to partake in my most favorite of annual rituals, the first Friday of March Madness. I’m not expecting quite the windfall we had last year, but we are spending the entire day in a bar filled with men. Watching and talking about basketball. While drinking beer. Surely something good will come of the day.

And maybe I’ll have time for a little poolside romance between my book reading, family vacation notwithstanding. I have always had a love of the pool make out scene.

In fact, I think my very first one was while on a family vacation. I was a freshman or sophomore, filling out a teal-and-white polka dot bikini in ways I certainly shouldn’t have been allowed to at that age. He was in his ~~early~~ late 20’s, and lived next door to the condos we were in, or did the snorkeling tours or something. He was way too cute for me to keep track of any useful details.

After several days of flirting at the pool, we met there after hours (probably 8pm, I had terribly strict p’s) and ended up in the corner of the pool, deliciously intertwined. It was scandalous, to be sure, but it was my first real kissing scene and it was everything a teen girl could hope for.

After kissing that man I promptly broke up with the high school football player I had been holding hands with back home. Well, technically I ended things after a make out moment that just didn’t stack up to my pool make out. I guess I've always had a bit of flight in me.

Speaking of which, mine's coming up and I've got to get packing. Hopefully I'll come back with more than just a tan. Happy Spring, dear readers!

In the Waiting Line

2011-03-10T15:22:00.003-06:00

The last time I was at my hair salon my colorist, who has never done anything less than magic with my hair and has therefore known me for years, asked me whether I was still seeing the same guy (Summer Boy) as before. I told him we had ended things. Three times, to be exact, with the last one having stuck for close to a month. He asked whether I had any prospects. I said I had been getting to know someone that I thought had potential, but it was really too soon to tell.

He remarked that that was one of the things he loved about me, I always had a backup.

I hadn’t thought about it that way, but it’s true, I usually have someone in the pipeline, in case my current interest doesn’t pan out. I don’t intentionally line up guys, but I do think I hedge some of my disappointments with future prospects. I think everyone does, actually. Isn’t that the meaning of mantras like “you’re better off without him” and “he wasn’t the one for you”? We choose to believe there are other, better men in our futures.

It’s a comforting thought, especially if you believe that you end up with the person you’re meant to. But one could easily argue that keeping a mental waiting line of men prevents one from fully committing to new relationships. Knowing myself as I do, I have a hard time finding fault with this argument.

It may not be something I need to worry about, though, since recently the Universe seems to be clearing me out. The only reaction I had to the brief re-appearances of several old flames via text was to cross them off and delete their numbers. Any hope I had for a Hobbes connection was permanently destroyed when he blew me off and I’ve abandoned my online wanderings, disabling my OKC profile and seriously considering canceling my eHarmony subscription early since I haven’t had any requests for new communication since the Mr. Numbers debacle.

Normally this would freak me out, just one too-soon-to-tell-still-a-big-maybe guy with no backups, but surprisingly I feel just fine. After all, all you do in the waiting line is waste time. Maybe having a safety net was what was holding me back from really taking a risk on love.

I Say a Little Prayer for You

2011-03-06T14:45:00.002-06:00

This weekend I did some much needed cleaning and organization around my place. While going through some old cards and letters I ran across this:

My dearest granddaughter,
This thought came to my mind while eating breakfast – Someday he’ll come along the man I love, and he’ll be big and strong, the man I love, someday. I love you, like I love all my grandchildren, so together we will keep praying that the man you love will come along.

My Grams wrote me this letter a few years ago when she was in her late 80s. Her caretaker told me she actually stopped eating breakfast to pen me this note, so concerned was she for my marital status.

When I was in my late 20s, my Grams suddenly became desperately concerned that I would die alone. She didn’t think this about any of her other seven grandchildren, one of which was several years older than I (and therefore the most likely target for spinsterhood), but she did think it was a very serious condition I was suffering from. Unprompted, she would often console me for my single status, reassuring me that he was still out there while singing old English love ballads.

I think regrets are a colossal waste of time, but if I do find a soul mate one day some part of me will regret that I was never able to introduce him to my Grams. She was fortunate to attend two of her grandchildren’s weddings and see three great-grandbabies born before she passed, but I would have liked to have relieved this one of her well-intentioned, albeit way off base worries.

Grams was a stubborn broad, though, so I take comfort in her likely having had something to do with it. Up there in heaven she can probably pick out the exact English gentleman of her choosing.

Thanks, Grams.

I Am Everyone's Fool.

2011-03-01T09:48:00.002-06:00

That’s me, dear readers. And I am caught up in a vicious cycle. I am guarded because I have been let down before. Then someone challenges me to open up. I struggle with it, but I give in and put myself out there, because although hesitant, I believe that one of the times that I do I won’t be let down. And then I am let down.

Most of the time I brush off the feelings of disappointment, but every now and then I feel like a real fool. Like when I’m giving someone an umpteenth chance to ~~prove me wrong~~ reject me. Like I am feeling right now.

Despite agreeing to meet up with Hobbes, I only believed we would actually meet up for the briefest of moments after we had outlined the plans. I switched back over pretty quickly when I didn’t hear from him for two days around the time he was traveling out here.

The cancellation came in two parts. The night before he bailed on the “maybe” portion, because he could not say no to (free) dinner with family friends. He thought he’d still be able to meet with me after. I asked him if we should just cancel our plans then, or whether he wanted to keep the suspense going?

I wanted to cancel them myself, you see, but if I waited for him to do it so I could write him off forever with a perfectly clear conscience. I wasn’t surprised by the official cancellation, mid-day the day of our plans, but I was pretty blown away that he didn’t mention anything that sounded even remotely like he was sorry that he wouldn’t be seeing me. Or that he felt bad about doing exactly what I had said he would do.

I guess I had thought that after I had made such a big deal of not wanting to be bailed on that Hobbes wouldn’t have made plans if he didn’t think he could keep them. That if he made them anyway and then had to break them, for whatever reason, that he would have done so with an apology. That he would have felt bad. For me. For my feelings.

All Hobbes wanted to know was whether a rain check was possible. I think no. No rain check. No future plans. No emails, no IMs, no texts. No more going out on a limb.

And no thank you to whatever you, dear readers, might think are words of encouragement on this subject. I'll be walking this one off alone.

I Just Met Your Future Husband

2011-02-22T10:29:00.002-06:00

Recently my cousin sent me an email to ask if I was seeing anyone. She also called me, mid-work day, to ask the same question. Now I almost never answer my cell phone at work, but I picked up because this cousin is getting married soon and I am her MOH. This requires me to be available when I might otherwise not be.

She was ecstatic to hear I was still single because she believed she had met my future husband while he was doing some work where she lives. I can only imagine what he thinks about me given the third degree he must have been given by my cousin and the terribly flattering, but limited, description she gave him of me: beautiful, funny, smart and athletic. His highlights include:

He is an adorable 28-year old who is both SUPER cute and very nice
He seems to be something of an entrepreneur, having previously owned a business and currently working in sales, but is also working towards being a police man
He loves to work out and run, having quit smoking several months ago (Cold turkey! With no cheating!)
And… most important… he has a full head of hair

This last one is pretty amusing, if only because I can’t recall ever caring about hair. In fact, I think the close cropped/fully shaved/bald situation is pretty attractive. Very Ed Harris. I digress.

Her darling find was going to be out of town for work for a few additional weeks, and my cousin wondered if I wanted to reach out to him, given that he was also a bit shy.

By all accounts he seemed like a decent guy so despite being a little worried about his age, four years isn’t much but he is younger than I am, I said she was free to give him my email, or sure, if she wanted to give me his I’d reach out.

I decided to leave out my concern that her excitement about this find was probably skewed by the fact that she herself was madly in love and planning a wedding. Besides, if we start dating now he could definitely be my plus one at the wedding.

Will You (Hypothetically) Go Out With Me?

2011-02-17T09:44:00.001-06:00

About a week ago I was invited out by Hobbes. Yeah, remember that guy? I’m sure all romantic interest between us is over, but he’s pretty fun to chat with so we still do that every now and then. In one of those conversations I had asked him about whether my spring trip would coincide with ski season, since I would be in Denver visiting friends and wanted to get some skiing in, assuming I could find someone to come along with. He mentioned that he would never turn down skiing, and I said I believed him, but that I also would never make plans with him again, ever.

He seemed to think that was pretty harsh. Let’s see, we had tried to meet up in Denver and in Chicago, at least once – and sometimes twice – a year, over the course of four years, and not once had we been successful. Yep, the Universe had made himself clear: Hobbes and I were not going to interact in person, and there wasn’t anything either of us could do to change that.

Hobbes clearly thought I was overreacting since he went on to hypothetically ask me whether I wanted to meet up when he’s going to be in Chicago for work. I responded fairly negatively, so he suggested I mull it over.

I don’t want to mull it over. I want to not have been presented with this scenario. It’s a Catch 22.

If I say no, the stars will align and he will be in Chicago, and I will be free, and then I will be that girl that’s too afraid to put herself out there to meet up with a guy she still talks to even though she hasn’t seen him in years.

If I say yes, the meeting will fall through. Maybe his trip will get canceled, maybe he’ll have to work late, maybe he’ll be in the burbs and traffic will be so terrible due to 12+ inches of snow it won’t make sense to keep the date (we did, after all, just have a blizzard). Some part of me will get excited about this meeting, even though I don’t think it’s likely we’ll actually get to the meeting part, and then that same part of me will feel bummed about it after. I’ll also feel really stupid, for not knowing better.

I told Hobbes to ask me again closer to this hypothetical visit, but we all know I’m going to make myself available in the end. Hypothetically, anyway.

Be Mine, Valentine

2011-02-14T08:52:00.001-06:00

I have never been a subscriber of mushy, gushy displays of affection, including almost everything that goes with Valentine’s Day. When a high school boyfriend once celebrated the holiday with a dozen roses, which he gave to me while driving me home after his school-night basketball game, I didn’t light up with warm and fuzzy feelings. I remember thinking they were totally unnecessary. And that I was an asshole for not getting anything for him.

To this day I remain terribly suspicious of any over the top or greeting card company manufactured demonstration of love, but there are a few gems out there who’s simplicity makes for more of a genuine display of sentiment.

Like Necco sweethearts. I know they taste terrible but how can you go wrong with their cheesy yet classic sayings like “Cutie Pie” and “Sweet Talk”? A well selected candy heart would cut straight through my disenchantment with love.

Or grade school valentines. I loved when we all made a mailbox at our desks out of a decorated shoebox or heart-shaped construction paper stapled together and then passed them out to everyone, even the smelly kids no one liked. Who wouldn’t smile at a little 2” x 3” card with a picture of a Sponge Bob reminding you to “Keep it Spongy”?

I would. And this year I could think of one such smile I’d like to inspire. Not on some guy I’m secretly crushing on, but an old friend who has reminded me of a time when I couldn’t wait to fall in love, when I believed everyone got a happy ending. So I sent him a teeny tiny valentine.

I had to buy a whole box, which by the way still costs $2.99 and came with stickers but not teeny tiny matching envelopes, but it was worth it to tell him I thought he was groovy and to "feel the happy".

I know I do.

Hello, I Love You.

2011-02-09T09:37:00.002-06:00

As I walked home after a semi-awkward parting with Mr. Numbers on Saturday I couldn’t shake the thought that I was being my own roadblock (as I so often am), and that I’d never find love if I didn’t give people more of a chance than 1 ½ dates. But after a rousing spin class on Sunday I had another thought: I like who I like, and I know it right away.

It’s not entirely physical, the instant attraction, but that’s certainly part of it. And I’m not saying that I don’t think attraction builds over time, because it does, but for me, if I don’t instantly feel a pull towards a guy, I probably won’t ever feel one.

I have always been this way. In fact, I can only think of two relationships where I didn’t feel this immediate attraction to the other person. In both, I hadn’t even considered the person a romantic interest; it was suggested to me over and over and over until I simply got worn down enough to agree to pursue it.

They were both years and years ago, high school and early college, and in the first it was the friends of the guy who pressured me into it. That whole relationship I felt like he was more into me than I was into him, which was true, and ultimately the imbalance of it made me cut and run. Well that and the fact that my interest in him didn’t grow over time.

The other guy wore me down himself over what must have been close to a year. We had started out as good friends, but once he got it in his head that I was his future wife he never let up with ideas about our future. He slowly integrated me into every aspect of his life so by the time I finally agreed to give things a go we were practically dating already. I wish I hadn’t given in, since that relationship crashed and burned with such fury that I attribute most of my inability to let other people in to the devastation I felt when he shut me out.

After such remarkable success stories, I’m not sure why I stopped relying on the instant attraction, although I’m guessing it has something to do with the well meaning suggestions from my friends that perhaps I was still single because I was being too picky.

I’m not, though, and I’m not shortchanging these guys (or myself) by cutting them loose after such a short amount of time either. No, I just know what I’m looking for. I’ll know it when I see it.

Rookie

2011-02-06T10:29:00.004-06:00

For my second date with Mr. Numbers I pulled a series of seriously rookie moves. It was embarrassing, especially for a seasoned dater such as myself.

We had plans for dinner, sushi, which I love for early dating because it (a) gives you a chance to share food (but not germs) and (b) is a streamlined dining experience. Plus it can be kind of adventurous, depending on the other’s person experience, or lack thereof, in raw cuisine. It’s always interesting to see someone a little bit out of their comfort zone.

Anyway choosing sushi dinner date wasn’t the issue, no; the rookie mistake was that I had agreed to this date on a Saturday. As in, not a school night. As in, unless you had previously indicated you had plans after dinner you have left yourself wide open for an indefinite date extension of infinite possibilities.

I thought of this useful fact while I was walking to meet Mr. Numbers and seeing that I hadn’t laid any groundwork for later plans I figured I’d just see how I was feeling during dinner. I made my second rookie mistake by expecting that the date extending discussion would happen at the end of dinner, instead of in the middle of eating winter maki. Mr. Numbers had asked me on date #2 during date #1, so it stood to reason he’d do the same thing at dinner.

He invited me to watch a movie at his place after dinner (clarifying there would be no making out pressure). I answered with the honest answer I had available to me at the time: No, thank you. Had I been prepared I could have been clever, suggesting a rain check or feigning exhaustion. But no, I just went with my gut, and my gut said that I was not interested in that man’s couch.

It wasn't as positive as our first date directness had been, but I guess the rub with the direct approach is you get a direct response. No hemming and hawing, just the raw truth.

Well There's Always the Direct Approach

2011-02-03T09:42:00.001-06:00

Patti Stanger, the self-proclaimed Millionaire Matchmaker, counsels her clients that if they are interested in the gal on the first date they should seal the deal for the next one while still on that first date. I only watch the show as a guilty pleasure, but I’m sure it has something to do with being clear and direct in your intentions.

Until this week, I don’t think this has ever happened to me, interested parties usually say things like “we should do this again” or “I’d like to see you again” without any specific dates/times. Until this week, I would have thought I would have felt terribly on the spot if asked, mid-date, for another date. Until this week, I didn’t realize how right she is.

When it happened I was on a first date with Mr. Numbers, grabbing drinks as well as some impromptu dinner. At first glance he wasn’t anything special, an average looking guy with a physique a bit more slight than I’m used to, but he really won me over during the date. He had this fantastically dry wit, causing me to laugh out loud several times well before my third glass of wine. He was clearly very bright and successful, ambitious even but with an obvious work-life balance in place. He respected my feelings about men spending money on women they have just met (I don’t think they should have to), and then he promptly rejected them (which I respected). Also, he thought I was great, and said so.

I had, as it turned out, already decided I would go on a second date with him when he asked me whether I had plans on Saturday, so it didn’t feel like I was on the spot and I didn’t feel pressured to answer. I just felt like he was really interested. And I was interested, so I just said Yes.

It was clear. It was direct. It was awesome.

You Better Work.

2011-01-30T09:06:00.001-06:00

Despite the fun and randomness of OK Cupid I thought I would give a more structured (read: payment required) dating website a try this year. Just for three months. Just to see, if maybe the personality matching might yield better compatibility.

In the first few weeks of membership, I’ve received approximately 6 matches per day, totaling over a hundred to date. Only one of two things is happening. I am either the kind of girl that every single guy is looking for, making me the most compatible person ever, or there are six million guys on eHarmony.

I tend to go with the latter option, and not just because it means there are way more singles in Chicagoland than I had thought. I’m a pretty popular gal, but if I’m a fit for hundreds of men wanting long term relationships then there is something seriously wrong with me or my proclaimed interest in said long term relationship.

I’d rather not dwell on that, and it doesn’t matter, because either way there are simply too many matches to wade through. I’ve decided to take the “respond only” approach. Besides saving me gads of time, I actually think this might set me up for more success.

I WANT TO BE PURSUED. Not because I have a terrible track record when I initiate contact, which I do, by the way, and not because I’m following traditional dating rules. No, I want to be pursued because I think I’m worth it. I want someone who reads my profile to think I'm worth it, too. And then I want to DO something about it.

I’d hardly call initiating the communication process on eHarmony putting in an effort, but hey, it’s a step in the right direction.

Come About?

2011-01-27T09:59:00.003-06:00

Based on the comments I received to Unrecoverable and also the personal follow up from some real life friends, it seems I left out some useful details.

In addition to not having clarified that I met the Drunken Sailor through friends of mine that were not friends of his, rather folks he had met that morning over bloody marys, I also failed to include that our one night only encounter happened awhile ago, like in early November.

I had meant to write about it earlier, but had been holding out hope that I might hear back from him, in which case I could have written a very different blog about the situation (like, say, that having met my future husband I would be retiring this blog so as not to write about him). Then I remembered I had forgotten to write about it at all, so by the time I did I was resigned to not hearing back from him.

Even with this additional information two of my friends thought I should reach back out to him, just one more time, just in case something crazy had happened, like if he’d dropped his phone, in a puddle, and then it broke, and he had never gotten my “I’m interested” voicemail. Or maybe he’d had some other life situation, like a girlfriend he wasn’t quite over with, that made him unavailable to start something new with me at the time. Maybe he couldn’t get in touch with me now, maybe he felt stupid doing so after all this time… you get the idea.

They actually both presented this thought to me independent of each other and one of them with endorsement from her husband. I personally think his actions spoke for themselves, but with nothing left to lose I went ahead and sent him another text message inviting him out to meet me and his new sailboating pals.

He has not responded, and it’s been over a week.

To me, the Drunken Sailor’s behavior makes no sense purely from a manners perspective. Why ask for someone’s full name and number, and then use it only to apologize for one’s previously apologized for behavior? Surely someone that courteous would have the decency to respond to my subsequent text message to let me know he wasn’t interested.

But his silence speaks for him. I think we can officially close the books on this one. All of us.

Look Before You Leap

2011-01-24T12:47:00.002-06:00

Before I went on the date with the ND Hater, I looked up the neighborhood pizza joint I had suggested as an option should he want to come to my neighborhood, so I could give him the correct cross street. I clicked onto Yelp, for no particular reason since I’d already been there and knew I liked the place, and happened across a review for a guy I thought was pretty attractive.

The top of his review read that he was a junkie of the place, and when I clicked onto his Yelp profile I noticed he said he slummed around the city neighborhood that I actually lived in. He had written a number of reviews, and while I myself am not the kind of person who (a) provides public reviews or (b) would include a picture along with said reviews, he had reviewed some places I would definitely enjoy. And he seemed local. I totally wanted to email him. But I didn’t, mostly since I couldn’t think of anything relevant to email him about.

And then the craziest thing happened. I got to the pizza joint before the ND Hater, and as I was sitting in the bar overflow area scanning the actual bar to see if two stools were about to open up, I saw him. The Yelp guy! In the bar! I didn’t go over there to confirm, mostly because I assumed my actual date would be walking in at any moment, but clearly this was a sign!

I didn’t want to be a stalker, so I ran my plan to reach out to a full blown stranger by N the next day. As we emailed about the options I forwarded the link to his Yelp profile.

My excitement was all for naught, it seems, because N had the foresight to actually READ some of his reviews, and smack dab in the middle of the one was the statement that “his wife loved the hummus”.

What would I do without her? Not only had I not read through his reviews very carefully, I had missed the reference to his spouse in the one for the joint I had originally looked up. I am a lot of things, dear readers, but a thorough researcher has never been one of them.

Fortunately for me, I wasn't a stalker girl hitting on a married guy, either.

Failed First Dates: Don't be a Hater!

2011-01-21T13:41:00.002-06:00

Last night I went on a first date with someone who hates Notre Dame even more than I do. You would think that such a similarity might be a good bonding moment for a new couple, but such was not the case here.

You see I have to admit, dear readers, that while I do have a deep seated dislike of all things Ohio and fans of Notre Dame, I don’t actually hate them. Certainly not to the extent that I would let it keep me from supporting my family or friends. And as I’ve mentioned before, I’m pretty sure my future mate will be one of the things I profess to hate. The Universe is like that.

The irony for this guy is that his brother played basketball on a scholarship to Notre Dame and married his Notre Dame cheerleader girlfriend (what did I tell you about The Universe?). He’s having nothing to do with it, going so far as to not go to any games in South Bend to watch his own brother play back when they were both in undergrad. He said he did go to a few away games, sitting with the home team and wearing an “I hate ND” shirt. He’s not planning to let his future nephews call him Uncle since they’re ND spawn. And he says if his future kids even think about going to school there…

He said all of this in a relatively upbeat tone, and it wasn’t the dominant segment of our conversation, but I couldn’t help but notice how unattractive I thought holding such a strong negative opinion of something was. And how ridiculous when it's college loyalty. I like to think I present my "hatred" more as a good natured rivalry, but listening to this guy makes me think twice about the impression I might be giving others.

He said he hoped to hear from me, and he will, but just to let him know I’m not interested in pursuing a relationship. Not because he’s fighting the Irish, but because I was fighting to find any level of attraction to him from the moment he had walked in.

Where Are They Now?

2011-01-17T09:59:00.002-06:00

Over the weekend I received a text message from a guy I haven’t spoken to in at least three years. We hadn’t parted on bad terms, we just parted because we weren’t going anywhere and it was time. We had rotated between being friends of friends, actual friends and friend with benefits for years, and then we just… stopped.

He still crosses my mind from time to time, he and a few others I’ve dated and parted with in years past. It’s the ones that I really felt I could have had something with, but timing, career or geography got in the way. I wonder whether they’re still single, what would happen if our paths crossed again, whether things would work out with us now that circumstances might be more favorable. I wonder whether this is normal, thinking about the “might have beens”. I wonder whether it’s just because I’m single, and that if I was in a relationship whether I’d even care what they were up to.

I do this mostly when I end up with extra time on my hands and no boys to play with. The kind of time one would find, say, if she made a resolution to stop wasting time chatting with dead-end guys. The kind of time this gal is finding herself with right about now, since she actually did stop wasting time.

Also apparently the kind of time I had last July, which is when I sent this particular man a text message that he was just now returning. Where are we now? From the handful of messages we exchanged it seems like we’re both pretty much where we were when we stopped talking, at least in terms of geography. It’s unlikely our paths are going to cross paths anytime in the near (or distant) future, although we continue to wish each other the best.

The fact that he replied, months and months later to what was clearly a random one-time text message, makes me wonder whether he doesn’t, on the very few occasions when he has some extra time on his hands, think of me in the same way I sometimes think of him. Maybe I’m not the only one wondering about what might have been.

It could just be wistful thinking, this idea that romance could blossom as it once did should two folks find themselves single and standing in front of each other. Then again, maybe it’s not.

Unrecoverable.

2011-01-14T12:14:00.004-06:00

Is there such a thing as an unrecoverable first date? Sure, if the other person finds your behavior SO unacceptable or your personality SO incompatible with yours that they in no way would consider giving you a second chance to make a first impression. I have been on many dates like that. But what if you find your own behavior so unacceptable that you don’t think you deserve a second chance?

Awhile back I met up with some pals who had come across this great guy that they thought I simply must meet. Now most previously suggestions of theirs have been dismissed immediately since they fell into the “he could be my father” category. This new suggestion came with a slew of positive sounding traits, including an appropriate age of 34, so I agreed to put on lip gloss and meet them out.

We’ll call him the Drunken Sailor, but really that’s what they all were. They had been sailing boats back down the Chicago river to be stored for the winter and drinking since 9a so they were all three sheets to the wind when I got there. Drunk or not, this guy was fantastic. He was exactly the kind of guy I could see myself dating. And marrying. And moving to Colorado with.

Because we continued drinking and the Drunken Sailor lived in the burbs it was abundantly clear that he would be staying in the city that night. As his future wife I obviously won the toss up.

On the walk back to my place there was adorable hand holding and kissing. And snuggling, since he’d foolishly left his jacket in his parked car. At my place he was one of the best behaved completely wasted guys I’d ever kept watch over. The following morning I drove him back to his car, gave him my number when he asked for it, and really hoped he would call.

I did hear from him, just once, a few days later. He apologized (again) for his behavior and thanked me for putting up with him. I said he was no trouble, because he wasn’t, and tried unsuccessfully to draw him out into meeting up again with a follow up call to clearly express my interest.

I wish I knew what happened. I mean, it’s possible that his attraction to me was based entirely on his BAC, but it’s also likely that he has no useful memories of the night (please see aforementioned BAC) and thinks worse of himself and what happened than what actually happened. At least that would explain all the apologizing he had done the night before.

I’m simply left to wonder. Whether there was something I could have done differently, if there’s still something I could do to get a do-over or if there are simply some situations that cannot be undone.

Always a Bridesmaid

2011-01-09T21:56:00.002-06:00

Over the holiday I was playing around on OKC and decided to take some tests instead of apply some much needed revisions to my profile. I happen to LOVE tests that analyze personality, mostly because they usually are dead on for me. (Sidenote: I think some people align with quizzes and their horoscopes and numerology and all that, and some people just don’t. I don’t take it too seriously, but every time I do one its spot on for me, so I like to use them in lieu of a professional’s opinion.)

I took the “Online Dating Persona” test and here’s what it said about me:

Appreciated for your kindness and envied for all your experience, you are The Maid of Honor.

Charismatic, affectionate, and terrific in relationships, you are what many guys would call a “perfect catch”—and you probably have many admirers, each wishing to capture your long-term love. You’re careful, extra careful, because the last thing you want is to hurt anyone. Especially some poor boy whose only crime was liking you.

We’ve deduced you’re fully capable of a dirty fling, but you do feel that post-coital attachment after hooking up. So, conscientious person that you are, you do your best to reserve physical affection for those you respect...so you can respect yourself.

Your biggest negative is the byproduct of your careful nature: indecision. You’re just as slow rejecting someone as you are accepting them.

With a few edits, it’s kind of right on. I’m terribly careful, although mostly to protect myself, and I’m terribly indecisive, often sitting on the fence indefinitely hoping the guy will decide things for me. We all know my ability to have a casual relationship without developing feelings only goes so far, and I have developed a bit of an admirer following, albeit a lame-guy one. Even the title’s appropriate; MOH #2 is coming up this summer.

My most compatible match type was “The Gentleman”, my male opposite; who I have to admit is the guy I tend to shy away from. Despite having grown up with men that treat women as I believe they should be treated, men who open doors and let women sit, order dinner and get on the elevator first, for some reason I'm instantly distrustful of a male suitor who displays these traits. I shouldn’t be, though, despite it being easy for a guy to pretend he's chivalrous if I want to end up with a respectful guy I'll have to date someone who at least acts like one.

Since I’ve already got the bridesmaid dress, I guess I should start looking for an escort. Preferably one with a tux.

Falling Off the Wagon

2011-01-06T16:33:00.002-06:00

I meant what I said about my resolution this year to stop wasting my time on lame-o dudes, but I have to admit that I’m already struggling to stick to it.

I did start off strong, earlier this week I did some OKC chatting with a guy who seemed decent in his profile with the exception of that fact that he only had photos with close-lipped smiles just like The Conductor did (which I obviously only realized after I went back and checked). The chatting was pretty lame, like the part about him having been recently been employed by PetSmart (seriously, it is really too much to ask that someone in their mid-30s be stable in their career?) and the part where he “asked me out”. I don’t usually quote word for word, but this one requires it.

so if you want i can give you my number and we can text or something and meet up sometime if you like?

I hesitated only moments before flat out declining.

I felt pretty good about myself, including the next day when The Conductor surprised me with an email vaguely asking about getting together on Friday. I declined citing prior (read: nonexistent) plans since I thought for sure he was one of those lackadaisical guys who doesn’t bother to put in any real effort.

It came as a surprise, then, when he came back to the table with a fully formed date suggestion for a different night.

I was impressed with his persistence, and actually considered whether to accept. As D pointed out, I'm always wishing guys would plan dates. Now here one had! Maybe I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Literally, since we still don't know what the deal is with those missing teeth.

Anyway, I brought it up at lunch table to mixed reviews and then I spent about half an hour looking up the band he wanted to see and listening to their music to see if I liked it. I didn't.

I was still on the fence at the end of the work day, when I relayed the situation for another gal pal. And then it hit me. I was wasting all this time just deciding whether to go on a 2nd date! What was the matter with me?

Obviously I struggle with where the line is, between being too quick to toss a guy you barely know and giving him way too many chances. I want everyone to like me. But I only want guys I want to date to want to date me. That's never going to happen, so I'm going to need some rules if I'm going to keep to my resolution.

Here's the first one: If my response isn't YES!, then it’s No. After all I’m not trying to be the most popular single gal out there; I'm trying to get un-single.

"I Love the Smell of Napalm in the Morning"

2011-01-03T23:40:00.004-06:00

"Smells like, victory." Kilgore

It’s a new year, dear readers, and I’ve got a new attitude to go with it. A friend asked me today whether this year was going to be “my year”, and you know what? I just decided it is. Maybe not the year I find true love, but this year is the year where I finally stop wasting time searching for it.

I’ll still be on the lookout, of course, I’m still hoping to come across it, and I understand that will take time and effort. No, what I’m talking about is not wasting any of my time and effort on anyone who isn’t amazing, who isn’t someone I can’t wait to talk to and spend time with.

That’s right, this year I stop wasting time on all those losers. Like Surf Dude. Remember him? After an entire year of silence he popped back up right before the New Year. A year to the day. He said he missed talking to me and hanging out. I bet he did. You know why? Because I am awesome to talk to and hang out with. And Surf Dude? He’s a lazy, shady douche bag who just wants to send millions of text messages to me. And several other women. At the same time. I can’t believe I wasted all that time thinking things *might* go somewhere with him. I can’t believe he thinks he can waltz back into my life after all this time and resume some semblance of a relationship (friendship or otherwise).

Of course I did try to get the scoop on Surf Dude’s shadiness, see I Did Not See This Coming, but basically he denied that the timelines were all overlapped. Said he’d been dating and breaking up in a cycle. Said he was sorry – not for being sketchy – but for having not reached out in all this time. I told him he didn’t have to answer to me, but several of those lady friends of his felt lied to. And since he wasn’t interested in giving me any gossip, I kicked his sorry ass back to the curb. Where it belongs.

ENOUGH, I say, of men who like me enough to use all their message minutes texting me but not any of their face time. ENOUGH, I say, of men who want me to do all the work in relationships. ENOUGH, I say, to the third and fourth and fifth chances, and to not wanting to be the bad guy and to not holding out for what I deserve.

Enough is Enough. Viva la 2011!

Failed First Dates: This Train is Leaving the Station

2010-12-30T21:35:00.005-06:00

lounge car conductor
high on chatter, low on teeth
not stable enough

When I got an email from OK stating that The Conductor and I had rated each other with high marks, I thought he’d be a great match for my plan to skip the get-to-know-you phase and go straight to dinner.

I wrote him a very direct email about wanting to grab sushi and he responded in the positive, although he made me do the math to figure out when he was available (he works 2 ½ days and off 2 ½ days). It wasn’t until this week, and despite having started communicating before the holidays we didn’t really chat until we actually met up for dinner last night. I considered the date basically blind.

He started off looking quite attractive - good height, nice eyes, potentially sexy facial hair - but as I was diligently paying attention to his chatting I noticed he seemed to be lacking several teeth. In a row. Possibly on two sides of his mouth. As someone who paid for her orthodontic work as an adult, bad teeth are a huge turn off for me. They’re also very confusing, certainly something you might consider explaining to the pretty lady sitting across from you.

It’s not all about looks, though, and I thought he had some great boyfriend qualities – close with family, interested in cycling (motor and bike), chef quality cooking skills. As I learned more about him I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe he wasn’t as stable as I’d expect (or want) someone 5 years my senior to be. He seemed fairly intelligent, and clearly employable - he’d been in the Army reserves, restaurant kitchens, data processing, the Army again and currently two plus years into his lounge car job serving snacks to passengers on trains – but nothing that seemed like he’d settled on a career. In fact he mentioned possibly wanting to get his bachelors. In what, he didn’t say.

Which is odd, because he was the one doing all the chatting. I did get the opportunity to talk about my job a bit (like that’s what I want to talk about) and I inserted a few comments about myself here and there, but mostly, he talked and I tried to stay interested in hearing him.

I'm happy to give him some leeway for nerves, and I can even overlook that he spit a few pieces of rice at me while talking (although I'd rather not), but he actually cut me off twice mid-sentence when I was attempting to contribute my own story amidst his.

I have a thing for common courtesy. And a full set of teeth. And the movie White Christmas, which is unfortunate, since now my visions of a cross country train adventure have been dashed.

Really, Santa?

2010-12-26T11:46:00.003-06:00

All I wanted for Christmas was a boyfriend who would arrive in the stylings of all those Lifetime holiday movies I’ve been watching. I thought for sure I would get one. I mean, I was super nice this year, and that includes being honest with all the guys it wasn’t working out with. Plus, per my favorite holiday pop song by Mariah Carey, I did not wish for snow.

You can imagine my disappointment last night as I realized he would not be arriving.

What I did get was an email from the Non-Drinker (see Failed First Dates: Batter Up). He hoped I was well and wanted to wish me a Merry Christmas. Oh, and he also said that as soon as he starts drinking, I’m the first call he’s going to make.

Now it’s not a lump of coal, but either Santa didn’t get my letter, or he couldn’t quite bump me from the naughty list. I hardly think that's where I belong, but I guess it is a bit flattering to have made someone's holiday email list after only one date.

At least New Years is right around the corner.

On the Fence (part 2 of 2)

2010-12-21T12:28:00.002-06:00

Well the good news is that the run gave me my decision. I was up for meeting The Performer, even on a school night. I was sure I’d like him, and then discover to no one’s surprise that it wouldn’t work out between us because we have no schedule overlap, but you know what? Who cares. I didn’t have anything else to do that night and I like comedy shows, even though I rarely go to them.

The bad news is that even a few hours after I had emailed (on OK Cupid) and texted him my acceptance of the date - should it still be available to me - I hadn’t heard back. I was pretty sure the show was still a few hours from then, so I left the window open and even showered on the off chance that I’d hear back in the positive. I officially threw in the towel around 8p, after hearing nothing despite noticing that The Performer had been on OK Cupid about half an hour after my email had been sent.

Perhaps I had waited too long? Technically I had seen the invite early morning Saturday (sent in the wee hours) but I had had a really busy day and truthfully didn’t get around to thinking about it until Sunday. He had asked about my weekend plans days earlier, like Tuesday of last week, so I got the impression he was a more laid back kind of planner. It’s not like I sat on the invite for several days.

Perhaps he too had been on the fence about me? I did receive a late night text from him on Sunday stating that he hadn’t had his phone with him, although I know he had been on OK Cupid much, much earlier that day. It ended with “next time, I guess”. Well, if that isn’t a clear indication that he wasn’t that interested… I don’t know what is.

I didn’t even bother replying to the text. And next time, I guess I won't bother saying yes to guys I'm on the fence about!

On the Fence (part 1 of 2)

2010-12-19T11:50:00.005-06:00

Should you go out on a date with someone you pretty much know it won’t work out with? Not because he doesn’t look decently attractive or because you don’t think you’ll have anything to talk about, but because of one of those likely insurmountable issues that you know about in advance. Like he lives in Canada. I’m sure the answer depends on the particular situation.
So here’s mine.

I’ve exchanged a few emails with a guy on OK Cupid, and he’s one of those performer types, which means we have completely opposite schedules. He actually put in his profile that he’s run into trouble with 9-5 gals, who won’t stay out past 10p. He’s proposed going to a comedy show followed by his buddy’s bar. Tonight. Sunday night.

My immediate thought was that it sounded like a late night, for a school night. I’m normally sleeping around 10p on Sundays, plus I’ve been trying to get up and work out in the morning. And then I thought, that’s exactly what he had written in is profile. I'm a 9-5 gal.

I probably shouldn’t have even responded to The Performer's first email, because I’m a realist, and I’ve dated this type before. I remember it being sort of impossible to spend time with that guy, because as a musician he was always at work during my free time, and I was always sleeping (or working) during his. We didn’t have enough schedule overlap and it wasn’t something that could be fixed without one of us drastically changing our lifestyle.

I did engage in conversing with this new guy, though, because there’s always that voice in the back of my head (or maybe it’s coming from my friends) saying that “this could be the one” or “what would it hurt to just go meet him and see”.

I am surprisingly torn. I would like to meet him and I’ve been wanting someone to hang out with (although I was hoping for sushi snacks). Maybe I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. But let's say I stay out late(r) than I would normally to see if we have a connection. What then? I hate to end something before it starts, but I like going to bed early. I don’t send emails at 4:50am, which is when I got his date invite. The last time I saw that time it was Tuesday morning, and I was heading to spin class, not heading back from the bars.

Had I thought of this earlier I could have used a blog poll and solicited feedback from you, dear readers. As it stands, I should have already decided. Guess I’m headed out for a run. It’s the best self-deciding mechanism I have.

Ants in my Pants

2010-12-16T15:13:00.002-06:00

Whenever I clear my dance card I like to wipe out any and all reminders of the guy from my email, phone, etc. I purge; it’s the best way to take control and create a clean slate.

After the exhilaration of all that deleting has worn off, though, I get a little antsy about what’s next for my dating scene. And as busy as the holidays are I find myself with some extra time on my hands and no one to spend it with. If I could keep a boyfriend around just for holiday time, I totally would.

Oh sure, I’m chatting with a few guys online and may have some dates lined up soon, but sometimes I just want to skip past all that introductory crap and go right to having someone to go out to dinner with. Like tonight.

It's not that I don’t like the getting to know you stage, especially the butterflies that go with all that hopefulness and promise early dates can have, but I think I just get tired of the formality of it all. Well, I like the formality of actually being invited to do something, just not always the planning in advance part.

I want dating to be spontaneous! And I want to waste less time! And I really, really want to go out for dinner with someone new!

As much as I think a CL post would be ideal for locating a guy with a similar sense of throwing caution to the wind (after all, dinner with someone you've barely chatted with could easily spell disaster), I must admit I'm a bit gun shy to put something out there on the off chance that Summer Boy is still lurking around. I'm not sure if he reads women's posts or just writes his own, but the thought of him reading one of mine makes me squirm.

I can’t sit still, though, so maybe I could try being more forward on OK Cupid. Find a nice gentleman who included sushi in his profile and see if he'd be up for a meet and greet. Take him somewhere with mistletoe over the door.

Which reminds me, I haven't gotten my wish list out to Santa. He better come through this year, I've been very, very good.

"Love Me or Hate Me, but Spare Me Your Indifference." Libbie Fudim

2010-12-12T13:15:00.003-06:00

As I thought about what to write about the 2nd ending for myself and Marathon Guy I decided to read the post I had written about our original demise. Truth be told it’s just as accurate today as it was over a year ago when I wrote it so rather than try to make it new and fresh, I’m just going to link you to it: False Starts: Marathon Guy

I wish I had more to say, but I’d have to feel something about Marathon Guy to be able to write about him. Ah, there it is.

Mutual indifference. That’s what happened between us before (and again). Neither of us was interested enough to get a relationship going. It feels satisfying to put a reason to the failed attempt, and even better to stop wasting time even thinking about it. Next!

Good Luck Chuck

2010-12-08T14:22:00.003-06:00

Way back at the beginning of our tryst Summer Boy had told me he was a “Good Luck Chuck”. I hadn’t seen the film but was aware of the concept. Basically a curse had been put on this guy such that all of his relationships ended, but any girl he dated (actually, had sex with) met her future husband directly after ending things with him.

Bizarre Sidenote: Duder had also thought he was a Good Luck Chuck. It never fails; the moment I hear something, it starts popping up everywhere.

Like most of the random things Summer Boy had felt like telling me, I wasn’t sure what the purpose of sharing this tidbit of personal information was. Was it more of an FYI? As in, when you’re ready to meet “the one”, end things with me? Or a suggestion that after sending several women (I think he said seven) on to their husbands that he thought he had found someone he wanted to stick with? Or was it presented as an option to me, to choose between the movie characters I wanted to be?

Well let's see... I could be one of the random women, who, after ending things (or having them ended for her) gets married to whomever I dated next, or I could be a blonde and hopefully less clumsy version of Jessica Alba's character that gets slightly stalked by Chuck. And then stuck with him in Antarctica studying penguins. Not sure either option is all that great.

Turns out I wasn’t either of the ladies in that movie, and neither Duder nor Summer Boy was the Good Luck Chuck they proclaimed to be. At least not for me... followed by The Bowler and Marathon Guy, respectively, and we know how things are going for the latter. Or not going, I should say.

Ultimately I think the Good Luck Chuck phenomenon was presented more like a silver lining, floated to me as a way of apologizing for being someone I didn’t see things working with. Or even worse, as a way of apologizing for oneself in that self-deprecating manner I simply cannot stand. Summer Boy even brought it up again when I officially re-ended our communication. His exact words included “toast to the fact that you were able to rid yourself of me” and “if your past history plays true at all you will probably be falling in love within the next couple of months anyway”. Ugh, good riddance I say.

As to falling in love in the next few months, I hope I do.

The Answer to Your Question is Yes.

2010-12-03T17:00:00.003-06:00

Yes, I still have feelings for Summer Boy. Yes, I still talk to him (although I haven’t seen him). Yes, I think my indifference to Marathon Guy’s declining interest in me is being made possible by this chatting. Yes, I know I should cut if off. Again.

I know what you’re thinking. You didn’t ask those questions, did you? You should have, dear readers, for you should know as well as I do that there’s no such thing as a clean break in matters of the heart. For all my bravado in the face of Summer Boy’s rejection I had really fallen for him. I really thought things could have worked out, and possibly still would.

They won’t, of course, I know that now (read: am still working to convince myself this is true). And although I’ve appreciated the Fantasy Football advice he’s given me, it’s clear that he’s on the receiving end of this relationship. That man needs friends like I need a tight end that consistently gets into the endzone.

I do sort of feel bad for him, he’s obviously missing the part of one’s social scene where one has people to talk to about their lives with, to ask advice and bounce ideas off of. I myself don’t need a new friend, I very fortunately am blessed in that area, but I sense a trend in my dating life: MEN WHO NEED WOMEN TO LISTEN TO THEM.

I can rattle off a string of men who want to talk to me all the time but not actually date me… Summer Boy, Marathon Guy, Surf Dude. They like to tell me about their day, about their friends, about what they had for dinner. They are happy to text about sports and they want my opinion on work situations. They often want to know what my plans are, but they don’t ever suggest that they be part of those plans. What am I doing to keep finding myself in this situation?

I am a lot of things, but a therapist isn’t one of them. I don’t have the patience for it, and honestly, I’m not even that good of a listener. I do take a pretty hard line on personal boundaries and standing up for one’s self, and I’ve often been able to find a socially acceptable way to call people out on their inappropriate behavior. It’s been helpful to my engaged girlfriends, so why not single men missing an intelligent, decisive female in their lives?

Yes, that’s exactly what Summer Boy had needed. Someone to encourage him to move if that’s what would make him happy. Someone to support him in removing himself from the crazy, dangerous situation his friends kept dragging him into. Someone who understood him and thought about his best interests when responding.

I can see how someone like that would be someone you’d want to keep around. I can see, too, that I need to stop being that someone, until I find someone who is capable of playing the same role for me.

I hope he got everything off his chest, though, because yes, he’ll now be getting the swift kick to the curb that he deserves.

It's All Coming Back to Me Now

2010-11-29T20:44:00.003-06:00

I remember what happened with Marathon Guy last year. I kept inviting him to do things and he kept declining without reciprocating invites. I felt like he just wasn’t that interested in me, especially since at first he seemed perfectly capable of suggesting we get together.

I remember now because the exact same thing is happening. Ever since I got back from being out of town (shortly after he had been out of town) we haven't hung out as much. And when we have it’s always been at my suggestion. There’s a ton of texting and emailing, but he hasn't made any real advances. So now I’m right back where I was before, thinking he isn't really into me. Again.

Come to think of it, maybe my hesitation at inviting him to future events, or events with friends, is less about being freaked out about taking some kind of step in our relationship and more about good old fashioned fear of rejection. I have a decent amount of self-confidence, but eventually you gotta stop banging your head against the wall. For the record, my Bears game invite for two weeks out has already been declined, because of a race he’s doing earlier that day. Which wouldn’t actually overlap with game time; he could definitely do both if he wanted to.

Huh. What do I do now?

I know what I did last time; I just stopped inviting him to things. I think I still replied to his text messages, but those stopped pretty quickly. Within a week or two it was all over. This time around our communication is regular and ongoing, despite the fact that he’s completely stopped pushing to meet in person. So that won’t work.

I do remember him saying something before about having thought that I wasn’t interested in him, that he’d stopped pursuing me as a result of that. I’m not sure what else I can do to convince him of my interest though.

I shouldn’t have to, either. If he wanted to spend time with me, he would. Right?

“In the Arithmetic of Love, One Plus One Equals Everything" Mignon McLaughlin

2010-11-22T16:46:00.006-06:00

For years, one of the things I’ve missed about not being part of a couple is not having someone to fill my “plus one” spot at events. Certainly there are the big events like weddings, but I even miss it at casual get togethers and dinner parties. There is something about an even number of people that to me seems more complete than an odd number.

Lately I’m finding more and more social scenarios where I’m short one. Say for example, Bears home games, in which I’m sitting on two tickets for a game, or I’ve got all four and another pair of folks who is in for the game but I can’t find another single to fill the gap. It makes me feel lonelier than I believe I actually am, not being able to put one body in a seat.

I think it’s one of the driving reasons behind my pursuit of a relationship, wanting a default person to attend events with (and travel with and make dinner with, etc., I’m looking for more than a dance partner, obviously). I usually don’t like anyone long enough to think about inviting them to group events, but I’m starting to think Marathon Guy would make a good plus one.

Having not had one in awhile, I find I'm unsure how to proceed.

First, the timing is tripping me up. I’m not sure how far in advance I can invite him. Two weeks? Three weeks? The more notice I give for the event, the more likely he’ll be able to attend. The farther out the event, the more likely I won’t be dating him by the time it comes around anyway.

I’m also worried about the implications inviting him to meet friends could have on our perceived level of commitment. Meeting friends is traditionally a big step, and while I tend to use it more as a helpful insight as to whether a potential mate would fit into my social scene, I can see that he might think that it was a sign I wanted to move towards exclusive dating. Which I don’t.

Of course even more terrifying than Marathon Guy thinking I like him more than I do (or at least am willing to admit), is the idea that he might want me to meet HIS friends. Which would mean that he is thinking about exclusively dating me. A double standard, yes, but while my friends would humor me and my maybe-boyfriend screenings, I’m sure that Marathon Guy wouldn’t have such a ridiculous pretense established with his friends about me.

And let’s not forget that all of these musings completely overlook the option that he might not want to go to events with me, might not want to meet my friends. I could be working myself up over nothing!

What am I saying? I have Bears/Jets and an Ugly Christmas Sweater party coming up. Marathon Guy would be a FOOL to pass on these awesome activities! Well, assuming I get around to inviting him.

If You Don’t Leave, How Can I Miss You?

2010-11-16T22:33:00.004-06:00

I don’t know if it was because we sort of already knew each other, but it seemed like things with Marathon Guy were moving at a much faster speed than I was used to. That first week after reconnecting we saw each other three times. Three times! And that doesn’t even include the additional email and texting communications. I didn’t feel smothered… yet… but I found myself thinking it was a good thing he had a week-long vacation planned.

The thing about being a single is you get used to not having someone around all the time. You don’t have to coordinate schedules, to come up with new and interesting date ideas, to look casually adorable in both work and non-work outfits. You aren’t expected to recap your day, every day, in fact if you don’t have to talk to anyone when you get home from a long day if you don't want to.

You can’t jump right back into that, no, you need to transition into it. You should transition, because truthfully, on a daily basis, I’m simply not that interesting. And neither is any guy I’m dating after the first 10 hours of conversation.

Despite looking forward to the forced break, I actually made an effort to squeeze in a late night rendezvous with Marathon Guy before his trip, since I knew I wouldn’t see him for awhile. The effort did not go unnoticed and I felt good about sending him off, sure that he'd still be thinking about me when he was away.

I know what you’re thinking, cause I’m thinking the exact same thing. Who is this girl and where did she come from? Could I have actually found someone who I not only did not feel smothered by but (gasp) wanted to spend time with? It’s too soon to tell of course, but given the magnitude of that kind of progress I can’t quite figure out why I’m not freaked out about it.

Maybe it’s because I feel pretty comfortable around Marathon Guy and have been acting like myself. Maybe it’s that I can see him fitting in with my circle of friends. Maybe after dating so many men who didn’t seem to have their act together, I am enjoying normal dating.

Whatever it is, I don’t think I missed Marathon Guy when he was out of town, but I was ready to see him again when he returned. And he definitely missed me. He even brought me back a present from his trip.

It's Not a Contest, but I'm Winning

2010-11-14T10:35:00.002-06:00

At least I wasn’t the one to fold first. Isn’t that what’s most important, after all? The one who can hold off without you the longest wins?

I have to give it to Summer Boy for choosing an appropriate subject for re-entering chat mode, feigning interest in my alma mater’s football game. I say feign because later that day, when I decided to respond, he rescinded his good luck wish for my team when I smartly refused to support the team he supports. What? He didn’t even go to school there. And we had covered that I hated Notre Dame. The only time I’ll cheer for them is when they play OSU, which they weren’t, and even then it was a lesser of two evils situation.

Of course that wasn’t the end of it. Text messaging about football loyalties shifted to why we were chatting at all which shifted to me sharing more of my angry feelings I hadn’t shared before when we ended things. And then he actually gave me his side of things.

It was your classic I’m going through my own “stuff” and don’t want to add any complications or drama to my life and I wouldn’t be able to give a relationship the time and attention it needed so I didn’t want to lead you on in any way.

> Except he did, kind of, because he hadn’t mentioned any of that to me, despite me having brought up the possibility of a relationship.

He also mentioned having started with an open mind about where things might lead, until he decided he was going to move down to central Illinios, at which point he “shut things down”.

> Except he hadn’t, shut things down, that is, until I pushed him to choose one side or the other.

I had wanted his reasons, but once I got them it was so clear that I didn’t actually need them. Not because they were so vague, but because it didn’t really matter. We wanted different things, and while I do wish he would have told me sooner, I (fortunately) don’t think I wasted any time on Summer Boy. He was, in a lot of ways, exactly what I had needed.

So what if he didn’t want to date me. The summer of fun was over and I was well on my way to replacing him. Have I ever mentioned how much I love the fall?

So… My Bad?

2010-11-11T11:12:00.001-06:00

Marathon Guy and I may not be able to recall the particulars of why our initial sparks died out, but it seems all of my girlfriends do. When relaying the story of my recycled find I received the consistent response that I had been to blame for things ending the first time. They touched on the same reasons I remembered, although R may have captured it best: “I didn’t want to say anything at the time, but I think you were the one that screwed that up.”

Uh, thanks gal pals. Perhaps the time to have told me this was last year? When I was still dating Marathon Guy?!

All right, so maybe I was to blame (and maybe I wasn’t), but what was with the overwhelming support Marathon Guy seemed to have within my circle? Almost everyone was in support of reviving this particular interest, having only good things to say about him despite us having only gone on two dates and talked for at most a few weeks. I can only assume they loved the stories I told about him, because of course they hadn’t met him. And let’s touch on that for a minute. I tell a good story, but it’s entirely colored by how I feel about someone, as I’m sure everyone’s stories are. They liked him because I liked him.

It’s funny, how we ask our pals to weigh in on guys or relationships, when at best they’re only getting one side of the story. A side very possibly crafted to place the storyteller and/or the guy in the best possible light, often by omitting very relevant, if unflattering, details.

Really I should wait until they can form their own opinions, by directly interacting with that person. Which is exactly what Marathon Guy said to me on our (second round) first date. He wasn’t referring to my friend’s opinions about him of course; it was about not wanting to read the blog. I had told him about it during our extended, drunken chatting, but he said he didn’t even want to read it, that he preferred to get to know me for real, the old-fashioned way. It was sweet.

As was the date, an unintentional recreation of our original first date in which we played bar trivia. Only this time we ate dinner as trivia had unfortunately been canceled. It felt... like the start of something that had somewhere to go.

Fingers crossed that I don’t mess this one up. Again.

No Trees Were Harmed in the Making of this Love Connection

2010-11-07T10:50:00.002-06:00

So I wasn’t ready to meet someone brand new. But what if I re-met someone I’d known before? Maybe someone I’d only chatted with but hadn’t actually met... someone I’d liked but perhaps the timing had been off... someone who had decent potential but had been overlooked back in my finicky dating days.

Surely in all the men I’d dated there would have to be someone who fit that bill? Turns out there was.

Marathon Guy. Without rehashing all the details, there was a theory that my decline in interest was directly related to the resurfacing of a previous crush around the same time I had met Marathon Guy. I also seem to recall going through a very high maintenance dating mode surrounding text messaging.

It couldn’t hurt to see what he was up to, I mean in the entire year since we’d dated I had only run into him once (earlier this summer, Maifest). At the very least it might make for a good blog post.

So I sent him an email. I told him I had run across an old email (which I had, in my sent box where I was looking for his email address) and that I had remembered he was planning to train for the triathlon or marathon or both. Since it was just past the Chicago tri, I wondered if he’d done it, and how it went? I threw in the obligatory “not sure you remember me” as well as a statement about him not needing to respond given the randomness of the email.

But he wrote me right back! Email chatting ensued that same night and into the next day, and a mere 3 emails later he asked if I was seeing anyone. Since I wasn’t I was happy to send him my number (initially he apologized for losing it in a phone transfer but after I told him I’d deleted his he owned up to having done the same) as well as text him while I enjoyed my usual pizza/wine Friday night with friends.

I think you know what happens next. Marathon Guy shows up at the bar I’m at, ironically with one of the marathon runners I had run with the year before. He hits it off with her, chatting about FOID cards and the different gang signs from the shady neighborhoods they grew up in, but more importantly he hits it off with me. We can’t quite remember why things didn’t work out between us before.

We stay way too late at the bar, and after walking me home we stay up even later talking at my place. We also make out. And it is good.

We hadn’t really made out before, and it’s unfortunate, because it might have been the factor that tipped the scales. I had an early morning planned so I dropped him off on my way out for a run, pretty pleased with the progress I’d made in the last 48-hours. I am nothing if not resourceful.

Failed First Dates: Batter Up.

2010-11-04T16:00:00.003-05:00

I didn’t waste any time moping over Summer Boy but instead revamped the text on my OK Cupid profile and prepped myself for the weeding through of undesirable prospects that inevitably comes with online dating.

It hasn't been too bad, though. I’ve been contacted by some seemingly decent men and am thinking about reaching out to some even better seeming men myself. I even agreed to go on a date!

It was to one of the last Cubs games, which is a bit of a stretch given how long they can run, but as all of my gals kept reminding me, how bad could it be? I’d just be sitting there drinking beer and eating hot dogs.

Except my date doesn’t drink.

Oh of course he insisted it didn’t bother him when other people drank, and indeed he seemed fine while I drank a few beers during the game, but I was pretty sure this one fact alone would be a deal breaker for me. The truth is, alcohol is part of my regular social scene, and it would make me very uncomfortable dating someone who didn't drink. I would feel like an alcoholic. All the time.

That’s the reason I used when I said I didn’t think it would work out between us, but I could have chosen one of many, as it turns out.

Like say, introducing me to family. On the first date. Turns out his brother was at the game, too, and he came over to join us mid-way through the game. He’s a police officer at the station right by my house! And a cuter version of my date, I might add.

Or inviting me to his cousin’s wedding for which he was a groomsman. I politely declined, not because it was “serious” as he suggested, but because it’s weird to invite a stranger to a family wedding. Plus, I don’t think it would be any fun for me to show up at that kind of event not knowing anyone (including him, even). Don't get me wrong, I'm great with a crowd of strangers, but it's not the right venue.

Or displaying a startling lack of knowledge about the career one says they are pursuing. After a few years in landscaping-type sales my date was trying to get into the Sheriff’s program for a leg up into getting into IT work for the Justice industry. “IT” he says, “you know, computers and stuff”.

Okay, that last one was a bit mean. But as someone who actually works in IT and can explain the “stuff”, it was hard to continue that conversation without making him seem like an idiot.

Truthfully I think I just wasn’t ready yet to meet someone new. This guy wasn’t Summer Boy, but pissed as I was at that jackass I couldn’t help but make comparisons.

There’s such a thin line between wanting to feel wanted and actually wanting to meet someone new. At least I had toed up to the plate.

Oh No He Didn't!

2010-10-31T09:45:00.004-05:00

In the end I went with drunk texting as the mechanism for ending things with Summer Boy. I had started with a simple email on Sunday stating that I thought that whatever was happening between us had run its course. I was too riled up to blow him off entirely, but I thought I’d “take the high road” by ignoring the questionable timing of the CraigsList posts entirely.

Of course I didn’t hear anything back from my email, so Monday when I got home from work I hopped right onto CL to see if he had posted anything. He had, that bastard.

There he was, with his stupid same picture he always used, looking to see if anyone wanted to go to the open mic comedy night at this bar by his place. An exact date he had suggested he and I go on a few weeks earlier (but never followed through with).

Oh how he was hurting my pride! Oh how I wanted to scream and shout and stomp! Oh how I should not have had so much sangria!

The text messaging that ensued next was not my finest moment in breakups but it did help me get a much clearer perspective on Summer Boy and how detached from the reality of our situation he seemed to be.

Me: I would have gone to the comedy show with you! But I hope you found a new friend.
Him: Well... I would have asked but as you put it 'things have run their course'.
Him: But just so you know... I am at the comedy show by myself.

Right. He hadn’t mentioned getting together on Monday as late as Sunday evening when I sent him my “it’s over” email but I’m sure he would have. Eventually.

Me: Look, the timing of your posts makes you seem shady. Or like I’m your last resort. Which is fine, just a bummer for me. Plus I am looking for someone a bit more available. So it seemed like a good time to stop trying to see you, and find someone who was more into me.
Him: Well... I can tell you I am not seeing other people and up until the email I got from you I was going to see if you wanted to join but next thing I knew I was being stonewalled.

Stonewalled? I sent one email saying I thought things were over. It's not like I'd been refusing to talk to him about it.

Me: Then why all the CL posts? I would have believed you b/f I saw them. Seems you are looking for someone else. I didn't like the feeling so I thought I would cut out.
Him: Posted and then never really read the responses... just deleted them.

Liar, liar, pants on fire. Practically the only reason to post on CL is to read the ridiculous responses!

Him: And you tried to make me feel bad for posting yet... seems like you were checking…
Me: Please. I only just saw them. I was out there b/c it seemed things weren't going anywhere with you.
Him: Funny... same reason I was out there... hmmmm
Me: Bullshit. I try to see you all the time.

Is it me, or has his whole defense been to blame me? I’m being shady because I’m out on CraigsList reading his posts? The ones he posted while he was texting me about being somewhere else after turning down my suggestion to do something that same night?

It also did not go unnoticed that he flat out ignored my accusation that he had lied the prior Friday (in texts not re-printed), which only made it seem more likely that it was true. And I’m not sure what he thought he would gain by constantly pointing out that he wasn’t seeing other people. We were ALLOWED to see other people. We had a NO STRINGS ATTACHED relationship.

It was stupid, initiating a texting war while angry and tipsy. It was childish, him throwing back all my questions instead of simply answering them. And it was infuriating, he had completely missed my point, which was that he wasn’t interested in spending time with me, which, by all accounts, he wasn’t.

It was useful, though, because it gave me what I needed. It was over.

Eyes Wide Open.

2010-10-28T09:33:00.001-05:00

Over the next few weeks Summer Boy and I did sort of take steps towards more of an actual relationship, we scheduled to hang out in advance and even went out to dinner! Mostly, though, we continued to have trouble meeting up in person.

Although it was split pretty evenly between him and me not being available when the other tied to initiate something it started to feel like I was the only one making any effort to make room for him in my schedule. As much as I liked him it was getting kind of pointless, all that chatting and texting but never spending any real time together. What was the point?

I reached my breaking point one Friday when Summer Boy had told me he was booked for the rest of that week and weekend. We ended up texting that Friday – I thought we might be able to meet up later – and he told me he was babysitting. In the suburbs. For his friend.

What grown man babysits for friends who live an hour away, in suburbs that are teeming with teenagers willing to babysit, unless it’s an emergency? Clearly I wasn’t ranking anywhere on his priority list. Clearly I never would.

So the next morning I turned my dating profile back on and checked CraigsList. And there he was. Everywhere. All posts exactly like the one I had originally responded to. Sunday morning - before he had asked me whether I had "missed" an email from him, and mid-week, and even the night before. He had posted about wanting to go out for happy hour drinks approximately 2 hours before telling me he was babysitting in the burbs.

I AM AN IDIOT. Obviously he wasn’t available to do anything with me because he was looking for someone else to do things with. Even on days when I had tried to see him. I mean, it’s fine if he was seeing other people, and certainly it was fine he was looking for something other than what I had to offer, but I couldn’t get past feeling like he’d lied to me.

Lied about where he was that Friday, specifically, for no reason whatsoever. He’d always given me all this detail that I never asked for - I assumed it was because he used to date someone who always made him give them the where / when / with whom. And I didn’t care, truthfully, if he wasn’t available I would have been happy for him to just say "No". But now I was thinking maybe it was so I wouldn’t ask any questions, so I would just take him at his word.

I AM A COMPLETE AND TOTAL IDIOT. I had believed him, because I hadn’t had any reason not to, and now everything he’d told me was thrown into question. Certainly whatever I thought was happening between us was not.

My eyes were open, but I could barely see through the tears of surprise, hurt, anger and indignation that were suddenly overflowing them. Who the hell did Summer Boy think he was?

And more importantly, just who the hell did he think he was dealing with? I am a lot of things, but I am nobody’s fool. I felt like an idiot, yes, but I wasn’t one. Looks like Summer Boy was due for some eye opening of his own.

Tick-Tock

2010-10-24T09:03:00.001-05:00

I realized why I had kept missing the window in previous relationships as soon as I told Summer Boy that I would be interested in dating him. Telling someone you want to date them basically means you’ve requested that the relationship move forward, even if it’s at some nondescript point in the future. The other person has to decide whether they want to move forward with you, and they can’t take forever to decide.

Having never told a boy before that I liked him first I had had no idea! In not wanting to miss the window I had actually started the clock. And it was counting down.

Whoops.

Even less exciting, it seems I had not correctly interpreted Summer Boy’s non-stop chatter about relationships. He rejected the idea that he was a relationship guy… saying he hadn’t called anyone his girlfriend in years, that he hadn’t introduced any of the recent gals he’d been involved with to any of his friends (something about them not being able to hold their own – although he added he thought I would be able to) and that he wasn’t sure whether he was ready to adjust his lifestyle to having a girlfriend again. He didn’t fully reject the idea of dating me, mind you, just completely disagreed with me when I explained where my statements about wanting to date had come from.

Actually, I think I interpreted him just fine. Whether he thinks so or not, relationships are on his mind, otherwise he wouldn’t constantly be talking about them. I think it’s entirely possible that Summer Boy is even more terrified of relationships than I am.

I had meant what I said to him, though, about not wanting to move immediately to a full-blown dating relationship, so technically we could keep going as we were for awhile. If it turned out we wanted different things, I’d at least have made my intentions clear.

I had no idea how much time the Universe put on relationships clocks, but I couldn’t imagine there was any reason to panic. Yet.

Baby Steps.

2010-10-21T11:46:00.002-05:00

Once I started thinking about the content of all the chatting Summer Boy and I were doing, I realized something. He talked a lot about relationships. A LOT about them. I submit the following into evidence:

He told a lot of stories involving the phrase "I was dating this girl at the time"… and definitely referenced exes who continued to be interested in him long after he had cut ties
He called me from a bachelor party that he found tedious, and later assured me that at HIS bachelor party they would not be going to a strip club (they would be golfing)
After giving me the low down from a wedding he had attended that got way out of hand (The bride punched some dude. At a bar. In her wedding dress.) he mentioned that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to top that at his own wedding
He said his friends were “living the good life”, with kids, a dog and a big house
He suggested that if and when either of us started seeing someone else, even casually, that we tell the other person about it. Originally I had agreed, but then I rescinded my agreement when I realized that sounded a lot like a no-strings attached monogamous relationship.

I’m pretty sure I can chalk up the prior girlfriends speak to him wanting to make himself seem desirable (or believing he was that desirable), but was I missing something? Was Summer Boy trying to suggest that we move towards an actual relationship? The thought was worrying on several levels.

I have a long and storied history of missing signals... of ignoring where relationships are leading only to miss the window of opportunity and be saddened later to realize (a) that I had really card for someone and (b) that I had missed my chance. I didn’t want that to happen here, I didn't want to lose Summer Boy.

I’ve also recently been considering the possibility that I have a serious road block to relationships that has everything to do with me and nothing to do with the men I’ve been involved with. That when I’m faced with a relationship that has somewhere to go I do something that would be destructive to it. Like meeting up with an old flame or disappearing for awhile, and almost always refusing to share or address my feelings (with him, with myself, with the friends who don't know me well enough to know I'm full of it).

It was terrifying, and ridiculous, being so afraid to tell someone you liked them.

But then it just happened. A perfectly normal, flirtatious conversation about sexy time turned into an admission that I'd be interested in being seen outside of the bedroom with him, in the context of an actual relationship. I said it wasn’t something I thought we needed to do anytime soon, but something to consider.

I felt nauseous. But also proud of myself. Baby steps to dating. Maybe I should get a gold fish.

Pillow Talk

2010-10-12T20:13:00.001-05:00

All that nonsense with the Karaoke King happened during the sexy time blackout with Summer Boy. Despite the blackout, communication remained high – emails, texts and even a phone call towards the end of my lake house vacation.

Communication was actually one of the reasons I liked Summer Boy so much. Even from the beginning there had been lots of pillow talk mixed into the sexy time. We covered all the bases – work, family, social life – and I had kind of gotten used to talking to him on a regular basis.

The longer our scene went on, though, the more I couldn’t decide how I felt about it. I definitely liked the chatting, and I’m pretty sure without it I wouldn’t have been as into him in general. I was worried he just needed a friend, though, that he just needed to talk to someone, not that he wanted to talk to me, specifically. And even if it was me that he wanted to talk to, I wasn’t sure the content of our chatting fell within the bounds of our loosely defined relationship.

Offloading about your crazy work day, fine. Discussing your latest running split times, completely appropriate. But breaking down the last few times you’ve eaten meat (a burger the night the Hawks won the cup and once or twice where he had a slice of pizza with some meat on it) even though you had decided to give it up and how you were waiting to give up sweets because you were a sucker for cake and your niece’s birthday was coming up? That’s not sexy or interesting.

If I was going to have to keep up with all the going ons of his friends (and also their names) shouldn’t I get something in return? Like dinner? I certainly wasn’t getting extra sexy time for all that listening.

Ah, there it is. That nagging feeling that my carefree, no strings attached summer fun scene was creeping into the realm of relationship land. That’s not what I had signed up for! Maybe once our schedules aligned better we could lay off the chatting and get refocused. I certainly hope so, I don’t think I’m ready to start reading Summer Boy’s food journal.

The Chicken Dance.

2010-10-11T10:22:00.003-05:00

karaoke king
overwhelming love ballads
this one’s out of tune

It took me almost as long to cut thing off with the Karaoke King as it took me to get this next post out. When it came down to it, I sort of chickened out.

I’m a firm believer that in early dating it doesn’t really matter why you don’t want to date someone, it just matters that you let them know you don’t want to date them. I think it can be done in a way that is mature; basically you’re freeing both of you up to find what will work for you, instead of wasting time with each other. Not everyone subscribes to this philosophy, though, and I’ve had lots of guys reject my reasons and try to find loopholes when I’ve given them the honest reason I don’t want to date them.

Having had some good times with the Karaoke King I was pretty sure he’d reject my initial reasons for not pursuing anything further. I wasn’t as direct as I normally am, hence the repeat attempts.

My first try was during an IM session. I alluded to the high volume of messages from him with the low (read: no) volume of messages back from me. I said I felt it was a bit much. He said that was just how he was! And I said that was great and I didn’t think he should change that. He agreed that he wouldn’t, but that he’d try to tone it down.

Actually I think he left things entirely in my hands, which was convenient since I promptly went back to the lake house for 10 days where I didn’t check my email or phone and therefore didn’t contact him. He was undeterred, and after waiting an impressive week or so to get in touch with me himself there were a series of emails and texts that didn’t… go… well.

Example. I’m out with pals at the local pizza joint when he texts to see what I’m up to. In the course of the conversation he says that I’m welcome to come by his place. I respond in the negative, saying something like “boys come to pretty girls, not the other way around”.

I was bitchy and kind of self-assuming, but I did get the point across that I wasn’t really interested in pursuing anything with him. There wasn't any reason to be mean to him, so I did end things officially with an email, citing the age old “timing” as the cause.

It wasn't true, but it did have a nice touch of irony to it since I had originally expressed interest in him when he wasn’t actively seeking a relationship. I do like an ironic finish.

And It Only Got Worse.

2010-10-01T10:18:00.001-05:00

Lunch with the Karaoke King went fine despite his recent admission of wanting to smother me… I was quite distracted by my get groceries / work Friday / meet friends for dinner / head out of town plan, but he couldn’t have been happier with the Mediterranean place I had chosen so he was content to listen to me babble while eating hummus. We parted in front of my office (no kiss, thankfully!) and then things went downhill in rapid succession.

First I got a text message later that same afternoon saying he’d had a “wonderful time” at lunch followed by an emoticon that I couldn’t decipher. The magic of the internet and K’s little brother’s know how later we arrived at a translation that definitively required clarification from the Karaoke King. He said on his BBM it had meant hugs. Translated onto my phone it meant vagina. I obviously didn’t tell HIM that, but I didn’t have much time to chat because I really did have a million things to get to before the weekend.

Friday afternoon he sent me a text message stating the following: that he couldn’t wait to see my hair (I had gotten it cut Thursday night), that he hoped I had figured out my shop/pack/travel plan and that he hoped my day was going well. I didn’t even see the message until I left the office after 5p, at which point I received a second text, which said he hoped I was already on my way and to have a safe drive up to the lakehouse. And he signed it “smooches”. Oh, and he also included a picture with the message, which was of his face looking into his phone. It was creepy, and I was running late, so I put my phone in my purse and kept moving towards my weekend.

He called me about 3 hours later, when I was in the car (still on the way to the lakehouse) and left a voicemail. For those of you following along at home, that’s 3 messages in the span of approximately 7 hours, with no response from me.

Saturday morning I received a text saying he hoped I had a good run and that he would be rooting for Ghana in soccer later that day (they were one of my teams in the office pool). And now the count is at 4 messages in less than 24-hours with no response.

You all know my rules! This was a serious violation. I sent him back a friendly text Saturday morning, but made it clear I didn’t check my phone at the lakehouse (i.e. stop stalking me!). Sunday morning I received a message around 3 AM. Paraphrased it read: I know I can’t talk to you right now, but I just want to hold you and kiss you. You’re the woman I want to be with!

Oh. My. God. Around this time my cousin and mom sent me a photo text of themselves, saying they missed me while I was out on my run. And then later that day, the 4th of July, I received a photo text from the Karaoke King, saying something like “here’s where I am” with a picture of a firework.

The Karaoke King had pretty much destroyed any inclination I had towards dating him in a mere 72 hours. It wasn't a record, but I was going to have to put the brakes on the excessive texting. Immediately. Perhaps a text message poem might do the trick?

I do not like your constant pings, I do not like them Karaoke King.
I do not like them late at night, I do not like them left and right.
I do not like to see your pics, your mushy words make me quite sick.
I will not reply to your constant pings, stop sending them to me Karaoke King!

The Coping Mechanisms of a Thirtysomething

2010-09-29T09:56:00.002-05:00

The Karaoke King wanted to see me before I went out of town for July 4th weekend so we made plans for lunch on Thursday. During the conversation about when/where to go he insisted on being extremely flexible. I get it, he’s super laid back in general and was only working part time since finishing up his MBA. I, however, was busy and was therefore forced to make all the decisions (which I didn’t have time for). I had to mention it, which led to him asking me what my sanity reclamation activities were, given that he’d forgotten his since he hadn’t been in the real world for so long.

Overlooking the obnoxiousness of someone who is so relaxed he can’t even remember being stressed, I genuinely answered his questions. The condensed version went like this:

Running. Regular running usually takes care of any general stress I may have accumulated during the day. And when I'm running regularly, I often don't get to the point where I need to escalate my stress handling. If it does, though, we go to (2).
Toss up between alcohol and good friends. Usually one or the other helps, or often I find the combination especially useful in at least offloading (if not finding solutions to) extra negative energy.

The trick to me is, sometimes I don't want to be consoled. I just want to vent and yell and be fussy. Usually when I am in that mode I opt for alone time, see below, because my well meaning friends want to tell me things will be fine and I won't have it.
Alone time. I need a decent amount of alone time in general, I have a tendency to start to feel smothered when I am constantly surrounded by people, so when I'm really stressed I usually need a break and I hide out a bit. Sometimes canceling plans and just doing whatever I feel like doing completely re-sets me.
Cleaning. When my house is clean my life is in order.
Food. Usually in combination with alone time, ordered directly to my casa. This is not a preferred coping mechanism as it negatively affects my waistline while only marginally making me feel better.
And finally Crying. When I have not appropriately handled stress over a period of time I usually end up crying.

Here’s what he wrote back: Well I hope to be part of the solution whether you're venting down the phone or in person, need a running mate, a dinner date or just a snuggle bear.

Did he just write snuggle bear?! What about the above list could he possibly have taken as an indication that I wanted to be smothered? Did I not, in fact, explicitly indicate I have a tendency to feel smothered? And I’m pretty sure I was clear that alone time was key. Why would I want him to go with me on my runs? And what about actually responding to my coping mechanisms? I took time to write actual personal insights and he just wants to be part of the solution. But he's clearly going to be a problem.

I’m starting to get a bad feeling about him. Especially since I have to leave to meet him for lunch. Right now.

A Nice Save

2010-09-26T13:26:00.002-05:00

Either I had misinterpreted The Karaoke’s Kings propensity to smoother me or he picked up on my low tolerance for it during my early morning mumblings, because when I heard from him next it was Saturday morning and he invited me to watch some soccer with him. Not only had he chosen a during-the-day activity (with substantially less likelihood of slipping into drunken making out), he chose a location that served PBR (which he knew I loved from my OK Cupid profile) and had free popcorn (which he soon realized was another fave of mine). Obviously I accepted.

In the sober yet still dimmed lights of the Irish pub, I tried to analyze whether I had a connection with the Karaoke King that extended past delicious Italian snacks. Truth be told, once I got past feeling guilty about having gone out with someone other than Summer Boy I wasn’t even sure whether I had genuine interest in him. I would have loved most of our first date no matter who had been sitting on the balcony with me. I felt mixed about whether we had a good physical connection, too. I mean, he had a decent amount of facial hair, which is not my scene.

I remained on the fence; throughout the ridiculous - and terribly unclever might I add - soccer chants being yelled as the US sadly got beat, as we walked around his neighborhood, stopping in at the Walgreens to pick up band-aids for the knee I had skinned earlier in the week falling off the bus in the rain, and even as we ate mini-burgers and talked about what had brought him to Chicago from New York (combo of girlfriend and job opportunity, neither of which had worked out as planned).

I declined his offer to go up and see his place, so he somewhat reluctantly kissed me on my check and put me in a taxi before the sun went down. I couldn’t put my finger on why, but I definitely felt a bit of relief as I sped away down Lake Shore Drive.

I had enjoyed spending the afternoon with him, but I was also feeling that dreaded difference in interest level. He was sure he wanted to spend more time with me. I wasn’t sure we were a good fit. Or whether I would be able to get past his snoring if it turned out we were. Or whether I wanted to rock the boat with Summer Boy.

Wait a minute. The Karaoke King had made a nice second move, and he deserved some credit for that. I was the one getting ahead of myself, and I deserved a swift kick in the ass for falling back into that trap. Done. And done.

Hangover.

2010-09-19T10:07:00.005-05:00

The first thing I thought when my eyes opened in the pre-dawn hours to the sound of the Karaoke King’s alarm (I vaguely recalled he had said something about a part time job requiring him to be in the office at 4am) was “I need more sleep. And an Excedrin.” The second was “Shit.”

When I woke up a few hours later I had a bit of a headache. Also, I felt guilty. Guilty about harmless making out with the Karaoke King. It felt like a violation against my sort of spoken but not really enforced agreement with Summer Boy that if and when we got involved with someone else we would tell the other person.

But I hadn’t. Gotten involved, that is. Not enough to warrant having to tell Summer Boy about it. And certainly not enough to feel guilty about. In fact, now that I think about it, it’s his fault I needed the extra making out in the first place!

I should mention that around this time Summer Boy and I were heading into a series of weeks/weekends where at least one of us was unavailable. We were both of out of town one weekend and then the next weekend he had a wedding. He was dog sitting out in the burbs one week, I was away at the lake house the next. We had discussed our schedules so we both knew it was coming, but although I attempted to make more of an effort to see Summer Boy before the sexy time black out it didn’t seem to be a priority on his social calendar.

It was a teeny bit frustrating. You can’t give a girl access to awesomeness and then take it away from her cold turkey. Especially not to watch someone’s DOG. I had figured it wouldn’t hurt to just meet the Karaoke King. So it stands that I shouldn’t feel bad about making out with him, either.

I am going to have to do something about this headache, though. The Karaoke King is a snorer, so despite all the wine I got a terrible night’s sleep. I’m also a bit nauseous, but I think that’s because as he was leaving he whispered something mushy and smothering like “Let’s do this again at my place tonight. What time shall I call you later darling?” Excuse me while I go throw up.

The Best Date Ever?

2010-09-16T14:56:00.002-05:00

Despite passing on polka and some hesitation on my part, the Karaoke King was insistent that we meet in person. We eventually settled on lunch plans which I had to break last minute so I could work from home and wait for the air conditioner repair men to do their thing. Not melting trumped pretty much everything as soon as the weather started warming up.

We tentatively rescheduled with drinks that same night and while I was sitting on my couch in my finally cool condo I tried to think of outdoor bars with a view that were close to me. I couldn’t help but think the best place was my deck, which overlooks the harbor. On the one hand, I had never met this guy so it was possible he was a serial killer (although, really, I think any crazy dude worth his salt would play down the craziness until he was invited into your house, even if it took a few dates to get the nod up). On the other, I did have some fantastic wine at my place and it would be SO easy to just meet at my house. I mean, I was already there.

He had said I could pick anywhere, so after a nod of support from E. I proposed my balcony as the location. It was accepted, although with some concern on his part. I assured him I was cool with it – it is the summer of no rules, after all! After meeting up at an Italian market in my neighborhood to pick up snacks first we headed back to my place.

It was the Best. Date. Ever. Sitting outside, with the gorgeous blue lake and the season’s first sailboats dotting the landscape, we sipped on delicious wine and a feast of olives, salami, caprese salad, cheese and bread. The Karaoke King was completely interesting. He’s lived all over and has had a few different careers in his life (he’s about 5 years older than I). We had overlapping interests and the conversation flowed easily.

The wine flowed easily, too, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise when the date transitioned right into making out. Making out followed by me wearing these ruffled panties that a neighbor had given me to spice things up with Summer Boy followed by a sleepover.

What had I been thinking?! The thing about a date at your house is that you’re already at your house. I had been worried about the danger of having a stranger in my house, but I completely forgot about the whole end-of-the-date-deciding-about-making-out-and-inviting-people-up scene.

Eh, I'm not going to sweat it. I had a really great evening, failed foresight notwithstanding. But maybe next time I’ll save this particular date idea for #3. Okay, maybe just #2.

Beer + Sausage = Love

2010-09-12T12:47:00.003-05:00

Right around the time I found Summer Boy I heard back from a guy I had emailed on OK Cupid some three months earlier. He’d shown up in my matches but hadn’t been online for awhile, and I had apparently emailed him suggesting that if he did come back online to let me know. When he did, I looked back at his profile and couldn’t quite figure out why I had reached out in the first place.

He turned out to be an interesting guy, though, professing to be a Karaoke King, a runner, and the owner of NFL season tickets (sadly not for the Bears). I had mentioned in our conversations that I was heading to Maifest that weekend, the sister event of my most favorite festival in the city, German Fest. He suggested we meet up there to share some delicious brews and if things went well, perhaps I’d give him a polka lesson. Obviously I’d be hoping for a better result than last year’s debacle.

It seemed like a good idea, especially since I was already planning to be there and could always slip into the crowd with friends if it didn’t work out. It wasn’t until the day of that I started to second guess myself.

For starters, Summer Boy and I had spent some time together that morning. Things were going so well with him – I didn’t want to do anything that would throw a wrench in that well oiled machine. I was also pretty sure that The Bowler was going to be serving beer at the festival. I could only imagine how awesome (read: awkward) it would be to buy beer from him, with some new guy, just after I’d ended things with him. Oh right, I’d be drinking all that beer, too. Who knows what I’d feel like saying or doing after the 2nd stein!

I did see The Bowler, with the very first beer purchase I made. He was on the other side of the beer counter and fortunately I saw him with enough time to drop to the ground and hide instead of making eye contact. I’m a lot of things, but mature in front of an ex is not one of them.

I also saw Marathon Guy, blast from last year’s past, sitting with a group of friends. Again, I was quick enough to maneuver myself out of his line of sight. I’m not sure he would have remembered me, but why chance it?

I even got some texts from Summer Boy, who was getting mystery texts from someone and wondered whether I was sending them from someone else’s phone, which I obviously had not.

The only guy I didn’t see was the Karaoke King. He bailed, saying something about the rain forecast and not wanting to get wet on his bike. He would have gotten wet, it flat out down poured for about an hour towards the end of the night, but then he also would have gotten to huddle with me underneath the big tent, sharing a pretzel.

I should have known better! No matter how many guys I run into, the only love match to be found at German fests is bier. And we are a perfect pair.

Summer Lovin’, Had Me A Blast

2010-09-08T21:27:00.002-05:00

When we last left our dating heroine (me) she had rid herself of a dud (The Bowler) and found herself a stud (Summer Boy). Not too keen on the effort it took to formally date while blogging about said dating, I went on a break. I didn’t just take the summer off from blogging, though; I freed myself from making any actual relationship decisions as well. It was awesome!

Turns out there’s a market for a lady without an end game, who doesn’t ask herself (or her date) questions about where they see themselves in 5 years or whether they want kids. Turns out you can really enjoy getting to know someone who you find interesting, but know you’ll never see again. Turns out there really isn't a better aphrodisiac than good old-fashioned alcohol.

In refusing to entertain the possibility of a future I was able to really enjoy the present. I worried less about how my actions would be taken and instead did exactly what I felt like. Not every decision was a good decision, and navigating the casual relationship world requires a very different skill set than the one I’d been cultivating, but I have no regrets.

I do have some good stories, though, and before summer ends I think a little kiss and tell is in order. Consider the next few posts your online trashy beach novel.

"I had a lot of dates but I decided to stay home and dye my eyebrows." Andy Warhol

2010-06-29T09:17:00.001-05:00

For the first time in a long time I find myself not wanting what it is I thought I wanted. It’s a surprising revelation; that after having spent the last year basically dedicated to finding and sustaining a relationship that I no longer want one.

Well that’s not entirely true. I think if I met someone who I wanted to spend time with I would. And if that developed into a relationship I would embrace it. I don’t need it, though. I don’t have that craving for it or that desire to cross it off some life checklist. Most notably I don’t have that nagging feeling that I’d be more if I was part of a pair.

I wouldn’t be, you see. There would be more in my life if I was in a relationship, but there would also be less. Less flexibility in my schedule, less freedom to spend my time however I chose. It all evens out, I think, and there’s room in my life for periods of both. Maybe right now it’s more ‘me’ than ‘we’.

It wasn’t a total waste, either. On the contrary, putting that kind of time and energy into dating made me seriously address some of own insecurities. Writing about it gave me a good dose of humility and perhaps a much needed reality check. I finally think I know enough about myself to be successful in a relationship.

I don’t want to continue spending the time, energy and money on actively pursuing one, though. It’s hard work hunting for a boyfriend! Its summer and I want to enjoy it without the pressure of putting dates on my calendar.

What does my dating future hold? I don’t know, but I’ll be taking the summer off from blogging while I give myself the freedom to figure it out. When something does happen I want to enjoy it, not analyze it.

Don’t worry, dear readers, I’m sure I’ll have stories to share with you in the fall…

Recycled.

2010-06-25T13:04:00.004-05:00

I just found this old email chain from a CL post from way back and couldn’t resist sharing it. It’s no wonder I keep going back to my old online hunting ground with quality finds like this dude.

His initial email was pretty wide ranging in content:

I enjoy most music even country, is that a crime? I am also bilingual.
So I have this handwritten note above my office desk that reads: “This is the month that great things are going to happen.” I ask you, how long is too long to keep it there?
I’m reading this book on global warming and slowly starting to realize that my liberal arts graduate degree, progressive policy advocacy, and sunny idealism might not be enough to save the world. I guess I shouldn’t have rolled my eyes through all those biology classes.

I can only assume I found him attractive or was in a giving mood because I responded. His next email indicated he was tired and still had to work out so he had to keep the email short, followed by the below:

So here are a few questions I'd like to know from you so we can discuss and perhaps argue about the issues I pose.
(1) Should corporate punishment be used in schools?
(2) Are the exams necessary? Are they aimed at checking our knowledge or just causing stress?
(3) Should religious education become compulsory at schools?
(4) Can China's planners and politicians do something to increase the area of arable land?
(5) Does China have enough arable land and water to feed its projected population of 1.48 billion in 2025 - even at currently available levels of agricultural technology?

Hope these questions peak your interest. If you can please answer my questions with more than yes or no. I want to know how your thought process work out.

My interest wasn’t peaked, but my “crazy dude” radar was going off pretty loudly. A quick search of my email unfortunately reveals that I didn’t keep whatever response I sent but I’m certain I had no intention of filling out an essay test that early in our communication.

I tell you what, though, in re-reading it after all this time he does sound like he’s got some depth to him, and I can appreciate that. I wonder if he’s still single?

Kingpin Down: The Bowler

2010-06-21T11:33:00.005-05:00

nice guy, easy dates
gutter balls in the bedroom
too old for bumpers

Turns out The Bowler got back on Friday, but because I was still working through a fierce case of strep that came out of nowhere (and hate the break up conversation) I was able to push him off until Sunday. I had thought when we talked he would invite me to do something again, at which point I’d be able to drop the ax. Instead I had to bring it up myself, after enduring half an hour of really boring conversation. It was pretty standard.

“I think you’re great and I’ve really enjoyed hanging out with you but…”
He said he gets that a lot. I offered that the dating relationship is tricky, you’re looking for a particular fit and we just didn’t have it.

“I just don’t think there’s a connection, for me.”
He said he thought things had been going really well. I said I was sorry, but it takes me awhile to figure out my interest level, and I knew now that I wasn’t going to develop romantic feelings for him.

“So I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”
He said it wasn’t the outcome he wanted, but it’s my decision and he’s not going to fight me on it.

He actually said something similar when I kicked him out last weekend, after I had commented that he was being very understanding. I’m glad he didn’t throw a fit, but to be honest, I think I kind of wanted him to push back on me a bit. I mean, if he really thought things were going well wouldn’t he have wanted to know why they weren’t? Asked a few questions?

I would have answered them honestly. I don’t need the personal validation of being wanted, but the last time I had put myself out there and gotten rejected I’m pretty sure I demanded reasons. For the record, the last reason I got went something like “you’re a risk, and she’s a sure thing.” Ouch.

Still, I’m a passionate person and I want to be with someone who fights for what they want. In ending things with The Bowler I’ve discovered he isn’t a fighter. And since he wasn’t a lover, either, I know I made the right decision. He'll need to improve his handicap before attempting to play in this league again.

Hey There Summer Boy

2010-06-18T11:01:00.004-05:00

Although I had decided things were over with The Bowler last weekend, it took me awhile to let HIM know that because he was out of town, road tripping with friends to help them move. In the meantime I happened upon something sparkly to play with.

It started the way it always starts. Sitting on my couch with my laptop, a glass of sangria in hand and trashy reality TV on in the background, scrolling through the miscellany that is the CL personals section. There wasn’t anything particularly interesting in “LTR” so I hopped over to “Casual Encounters”. Mostly I read through it to figure out what the kids are doing these days, followed by looking terms up on Urban Dictionary, but this time I found a gem: A post from a runner who was home recovering from a big race and looking for someone to chat with.

No details on his intentions, just the invite to chat. He was CUTE. I was bored. I don’t think I’ve ever had success responding to a post, in fact I don’t think I even get responses back to my original emails, but I sent him one anyway. To my delight he responded back.

We transitioned to IM chatting, where I asked him about the Casual Encounter posting. He said he meant to put it in LTR, which led us to the “what are you doing on CL / what are your intentions” type conversation. Let’s say we established that neither of us was looking for a serious relationship, per se, but that we were basically open to a wide variety of options. One of those options being a casual sexy time get together. That night. At my house.

We have the sangria to thank for my initiative, and The Bowler for my most recent frustrations in the bedroom, but full blown throwing caution to the wind? I can only cite a gut feeling that he wasn’t a psycho.

I was not wrong. And I was not disappointed. I wasn’t disappointed the next night, either.

I’ve never pulled off a casual relationship successfully, but this level of commitment sounds about right given all I've put into dating lately (and how little I've gotten back). I think I’m entitled to a little summer fun.

A Tough Break

2010-06-13T14:36:00.001-05:00

There are a lot of things about relationships that make me squirmish, but one of the most uncomfortable is when I feel like the interest level between myself and my other isn’t equal. I first experienced this in high school, when I started dating my aptly named High School Boyfriend.

He had had a crush on me for months, it seemed, but I hadn’t really thought about him romantically until right before we started dating, when it was presented by a friend of his. I liked him well enough, but my interest was new and I had to end something with someone else to start things with him, so I eased into it. For him, though, it was like he’d gotten this gal he’d been pining for, and he went right into relationship mode. I got roses for our one month anniversary and he cooked dinner for our two month. He also bought me a stuffed animal from his spring break, and a sweatshirt from the college I was thinking about going to.

It always felt like my attempts at showing emotion were never enough, and in part that was because he was mushy gushy (and I most certainly was, and still am, not) but mostly I think it was because we didn’t have the same level of affection for each other. When I broke up with him, he seemed devastated, and continued being that way for the rest of the summer. I still think some of his friends hate me for breaking his heart.

It was all for the best, of course, and I would never stay with someone just so I didn’t have to hurt their feelings, I would just prefer if breakups could be mutual. As in both parties see the relationship is clearly not going anywhere, and then part as amiable social acquaintances. What? I can pretend it’s possible.

I know now that things with The Bowler aren’t going to work out. Saturday night I asked him to leave after we watched a movie, citing a headache. I did sort of have one, but I also wanted to stop the awkward attempt at making out so I could order pizza.

I’m just not into him romantically. I gave it plenty of chances, but it’s not there. And I feel I am right back there in high school, hoping not to crush his feelings along with our budding relationship.

I could be misjudging his interest level, but I’m pretty sure he was hoping we would work out. He’s taken down his OK Cupid profile, invited me as a FB friend (reserved only for serious, serious boyfriends) and started texting me status updates (he’s on a road trip of sorts, they just left!). The last time he was over he left beer – saying he was pretty sure it wasn’t going to be the last time he saw me.

He’s going to wish he took it with him when he’s back in town.

Houston, We Have a Problem

2010-06-06T19:58:00.004-05:00

Let’s talk about the sexy time scene, because realistically the difference between a good buddy and a boyfriend is what happens between the sheets. I myself struggle with the appropriate timing for escalating the sexy time activities, but there’s a couple of fundamentals that I don’t think should be messed with.

In early dating, I want to be wanted. I want there to be flirting, complete with suggestive talk and suggestive body contact. I want there to be some restraint, but if I give a guy the green light, he better step on the gas.

The Bowler started out well in this category, but on date #4 things started to fall apart.

First I wasn’t into him. It was a movie date at his place, and almost immediately I was thrown by the early 20’s dude feel of his living room. It wasn’t so much the mismatched furniture, or even what appeared to be a complete set of Cubs’ bobble head dolls. No, I think it was the 50+ shot glasses lined up on the window sill that simply turned me off. Just because you don’t have room for a man cave doesn’t mean you can substitute your living room for your stupid guy stuff.

I knew I would not be entering his bedroom (would there be plaid sheets and a cotton comforter, a la bed-in-a-bag?), and probably not even the bathroom. I never recovered that night, despite his encouraging neck massage and the delicious margarita I had drank. I practically bolted after the movie, flat out shooting his sexy time intentions down.

Sometimes things are just off, though, and I’m not one to throw out a good man because he has bowling pin trophies all over, so I gave myself a pep talk and tried to rebound. And that’s when The Bowler dropped the ball.

He was in attendance at a little get together at my place and after things had winded down, fueled by plenty of tequila, I attempted to again see The Bowler in a romantic light. I couldn’t tell whether he was being respectful or just plain didn’t know what to do, but outside of his relatively uninspired kissing technique he didn’t bring anything to the table.

Ugh, I had not anticipated this. I was hoping bedroom compatibility might be the push my lukewarm feelings needed, but now it seems I may have to do all the initiating and possibly even some skill teaching. That seems like an awful lot of work.

I guess it's always something.

Easy Does It.

2010-06-03T19:48:00.002-05:00

After what can only be described as an unending series of crappy dates, frustrating email chains and downright rude boy behavior, I have to say its remarkable how easily I transitioned into what feels a lot like “regular dating” with The Bowler. I can’t believe I didn’t have more hang ups. Maybe I have been learning something this past year.

I should explain “regular dating”, since my belief system is clearly out of line with mainstream single America. In regular dating, it’s clear to both parties that you’re interested in each other. You talk – via phone, email, text – depends on the relationship, and you hang out in person. The hanging out is usually initiated by one party, and accepted by the other. You agree to do something at a specific date and time. And then you actually get together and do those things. Over time, you figure out whether you’re developing deeper feelings for each other. Oh, and you usually make out. A lot.

I guess that’s what I’ve been doing with The Bowler. Our lunch date led to a movie date, which ended with old school high school making out on my couch. We moved right into milestone date #3, which turned out to be a traditional dinner date. We hit a little snag in the restaurant choosing process – as the Bowler appears to be extremely limited in his cuisine interests (rejecting the entirety of Japanese/Chinese/Thai/Indian dishes), but I let him choose, and then went so far as to let him pick me up… in his car… at my condo. This is practically unheard of in my city dating experience, even more so because the restaurant we were headed to was between us, not on the way.

Seemed okay, though. As did extending an invite to join me at a friend’s birthday party after dinner. Now, to be fair, this wasn’t my core group of friends, and I was pretty sure I would know a maximum of 3 people at the bar including the birthday gal. I needed some backup, but it also seemed like a natural progression. And he did great, moving up a notch in overall attractiveness.

I don't know yet. Whether I like him, that is. I haven’t flipped that all important switch from “I don’t dislike him” to “I like him”. Normally it comes a bit sooner, like immediately, but normally I don’t make it to date #4.

It's taken me a long time to get here, though, so I don't want to get ahead of myself. As it turns out, when you meet someone you think you could really like, you don't actually worry about where it's going.

Second Dates are the New First Dates

2010-05-30T11:19:00.004-05:00

People are always stressing out about first dates, wanting to make a great first impression and feel those new crush butterflies. Until recently I have been one of those people, but my focus was all wrong. It’s not the first date you should be worrying about; especially if you don’t spend weeks building someone up with emails or phone calls (don’t do that, either). You’ve got nothing to lose on a first date. No, no, if you’re going to get nervous it’s the second date you should focus on.

Assuming you liked someone enough to go past the first date only means there’s more pressure on that next date. You could get lucky on a first date and have a great time with someone but your luck won’t hold out for two dates in a row. No, on the second date you have to see whether you still like them, whether that first date was a fluke or not. And if you had a great first date, you’re in even more trouble. You have to at least match the success of Date #1 otherwise you’ll be left deciding whether one great and one not-great date equal moving on to the all important Date #3.

The physical interaction stakes rise on the second date as well. If your first date had a physical aspect, then, again, you at least want to match that. If it didn’t, then you probably should be prepared to at least kiss. If you haven’t had any physical interaction throughout two dates maybe there isn’t any chemistry between you. This can get tricky the other way as well. Let’s say you definitely had chemistry on the first date, but don’t want to go too far on the second date. Where do you draw the line?

I’m not advocating panicking about your dates, mind you. In an ideal world you wouldn’t get nervous at all, you’d just “be yourself”. I write about real life, though, and I’ve been realizing that as I make it past the first date, which has been a primary focus of my dating, that there’s a lot more to worry about around the bend.

The Bowler and I are going to the movies on Friday for Date #2. Fingers crossed!

Mark It.

2010-05-27T09:27:00.001-05:00

And then it clicks. You meet someone who you’re instantly attracted to. You act like yourself around them, right from the beginning. You can tick off a whole list of reasons why you like them – some of them make sense and some of them have nothing to do with anything.

He calls. You talk for over an hour (and agree that’s waaay too long). About personal things, about random things. He doesn’t have the sense of humor you normally go for but he seems genuine. A guy that is close with friends and family. A guy with interests and a life of his own. A grown up.

He suggests you meet in person. You go out. He’s not as cute as his online profile, but you withhold judgment for the time being. You are able to chat through lunch, with no weird pauses. And then he kisses you in front of your building, during the day, after your first date.

You find the move bold, but impressive, despite the unwritten no-kissing-anywhere-near-the-workplace-when-coworkers-could-be-around rule. You decide you will definitely go out with him again.

I’m talking, dear readers, about The Bowler. Not some Lebowski quoting fan, no, this guy’s a card carrying, tournament playing, little kid coaching, glove wearing bowler. He hasn’t even seen the flick. But knowing how much I like themes, perhaps the Universe is sending me a little sign of approval?

The "I Like You" Filter

2010-05-23T13:28:00.001-05:00

When you like someone, it’s like the whole relationship is seen through rose colored glasses.

Case in point: Let’s say you go out on a dinner date and each of you brings home leftovers. The next day you get an email from the guy saying that he’s enjoying his leftovers, but not as much as if he was eating them with you. If you like this guy, you probably just smiled. If you don’t like him, you just threw up a little bit.

On this blog I spend a lot of time railing on guys for their bad dating form, and in most cases their form would be unacceptable no matter how much I liked them. But mostly I think all those qualifications and behaviors I have outlined for my new boyfriend are just my mind’s way of letting me know I don’t like someone.

Take two guys I recently chatted with on OK Cupid.

Guy #1 was an attorney who had just relocated from New York. I responded to his IM without reading through his profile (don’t do that, by the way), just saw his teeny photo and age. Early in the chat he told me his divorce was going to be finalized the next week (as to why he relocated) and I told him that probably meant we weren't going to be a great match. I didn’t even want to learn about him – if he was still technically married I presumed he hadn’t distanced himself enough for a new relationship.
Guy #2 was a guy who had shown up in my Quiver Matches and whose profile I found really amusing. I also thought he was cute in his pics. I basically already liked him, and when in our IM chat he told me he was unemployed it didn’t even phase me. Nor did the fact that he practically lived on the opposite corner of the city (outside of realistic taxi fare range).

They’re not the same situations, but the point still stands. I appreciated the honesty of both guys, but Guy #2 got past all initial, surface verifications even though he didn’t meet a number of my usual standards. If I had liked the profile of Guy #1 I probably would have given him something of a chance.

Should you throw out your wish list of qualifications? Of course not. Just treat it for what it is. A wish list.

The Stand-In

2010-05-20T11:45:00.004-05:00

Every so often you meet someone who you don’t actually date, but you end up chatting with over an extended period of time. The Gentlemen turned out to be that kind of dude. Even though we never met up after our first date I sporadically received late night calls and text messages from him. The other day he popped up over IM and we ended up having quite the conversation. It started out pretty standard.

The Gentleman: What’s up?
Me: Hey stranger. How are you?
The Gentleman: I'm good and you? You're too busy for me these days?
Me: I'm good, thanks. Not too busy, but have been taking a little dating break. I appreciate your random late night texts, though.
The Gentleman: What's the reason behind the break? Found Mr. wonderful...
Me: Hardly. Just found myself not feeling as resilient and open as one needs to be.
The Gentleman: Okay... Well if you are ever in the mood for a casual hang out buddy, with no strings attached, and no pressures, let me know.

We chat a bit more about the ins and outs of dating. And then it gets interesting.

The Gentleman: So what happens when you have needs? You'll start dating again, or is there a stand in guy already as to why you don't answer your phone late night? :-)
Me: Too funny. I actually do have a stand in guy (technically) but I'm not really that into him.
Me: I don't answer my phone late at night because I'm sleeping, usually. You and I have very different schedules it seems.
Me: Are you offering to be my stand in guy?
The Gentleman: I'm definitely interested in being your stand in guy, I think... what’s wrong with the one you have now?
Me: You think? Would it change if I threw in that key chain I actually did pick you up when I was on vacation?
Me: The other guy is someone I'm not into physically - or personally, really. We almost went out on a date a very long while back, but he was really emotionally needy and so that didn't happen.

And then we very candidly discuss the details of our stand-ins. How we schedule, what the roles are, etc. His arrangement is substantially more structured than mine and seems more like a training program for the bedroom than regular access to a casual hook up. It’s an enlightening view into at least this male’s psyche.

Ultimately he offers to bump his scheduled appointment later that night with his stand-in if I’m interested. I consider it, but I decline.

It’s funny. I would definitely have been into him as a stand-in, but knowing how many he has, and how specific he is about the activities makes the situation substantially less desirable. Too much information about his personal life. Too much pressure to perform, I think.

I'm not deleting his number just yet, though. It can't hurt to have a stand-in while I'm looking for my stand-up guy.

Back in the Saddle?

2010-05-16T17:16:00.000-05:00

I don’t know if I would go that far, but I’m at least circling the horse. I turned my OK Cupid profile back on even though I still feel pretty anti-dating. A bit contradictory, but I’m not planning on reaching out to any men, mind you, I’m just browsing. Occasionally. If, and only if, someone interesting comes my way will I have to decide what, exactly, I’m doing.

I don’t know what I’m doing, you see. I’ve spent all this time over the past year making an effort to date, putting myself out there (online and in the real world), going out of my comfort zone, having drink after drink while getting to know all these men and really, what do I have to show for it?

Not a boyfriend, which was the primary goal. Not even a string of fun, exciting dates with engaging and handsome men, which would have been a nice consolation prize. And although I’ve been disappointed and frustrated, I actually don’t think those are the overriding feelings I’m left with.

No, I think what I have is doubt. Doubt that deliberately seeking a relationship is the best way to find one. Doubt that analyzing dating leads to improved dating. I even have some doubt as to whether I genuinely want to be in a relationship, whether I wouldn’t push it away even if it was presented to me on a silver platter.

I don’t see myself as a failure though; I’m simply following a normal evolution of thought. Doubt is part of the process. The cloudy, unsure, obnoxious part.

I will get back on the horse soon. Oh yes, as soon as I find myself a glorious stallion, I will hop into the saddle with no hesitation. And then I will take him for the ride of his life.

Postscript to The Big Ledateski

2010-05-13T11:57:00.003-05:00

This blog is not always written in real-time and due in no small part to the disaster that the Hobbes situation ended up being I have been trying to shift away from real-time posting altogether. The Big Ledateski is one such series that was posted after it had played out. And after finishing THAT tale I needed a little break.

I did have a discussion with my friend (the law school buddy of the co-worker of the friend of Duder) and she was wondering what had happened that caused him to suddenly retreat. I told her I didn’t even care to speculate. And I don’t, because it doesn’t matter.

I can’t say that I have a good read on Duder, but I can tell you emails that I received from him while posting The Big Ledateski led me to believe we were on entirely different pages. Nothing was taken as it was intended, it seemed. I hate that... I always want people to see my perspective and understand my position, whether they agree with it or not. I didn’t think I could get there with Duder, so I just stopped trying.

And truthfully, I think he’s kind of an asshole. Not on purpose, and not the mean kind, but there’s an attitude to the way that he presents himself in writing that is really off putting. At least to me.

It’s ironic, actually. Things ended with Duder almost immediately after I watched The Big Lebowski, so I never got to share my enjoyment of the film with him even as it became the backdrop for my blogging. I did enjoy sharing it with you, though.

Abide.

Q: Is it being prepared to do the right thing, whatever the cost? Isn't that what makes a man? A: Hmmm... Sure, that and a pair of testicles.

2010-05-03T17:15:00.003-05:00

The conclusion to this tale is somewhat anticlimactic. After giving Duder more leeway than I’ve given anyone I’ve dated in at least the past year it turns out that he is not interested in dating me.

When I put our last date-planning disaster on hold I had every intention of planning another date. I had even followed up with a phone call the next afternoon and the previously suggested text regarding meeting up for basketball watching that Saturday. He returned with a voicemail over the weekend which had not yet been returned by me when I got his “I don’t want to date you” email.

Immediately I breathed a big sigh of relief. As all of our interactions have made clear, I’m not interested in dating him. Not at all. Then I actually read the email.

He wants to know if we can be friends. No, no I don’t think we can be. Not after you’ve wasted my time and all my good will.

He thinks we have a ton in common. I can only assume he means we both like NCAA basketball.

He gives me carte blanche to blog about our date, adding that he doesn’t think I owe him an explanation for what I end up writing. I certainly hope not, because I’m going to tear him a new one.

I almost do in my response, because as I re-read the email I get pretty ticked that he’s the one who got to pull the plug. Let me explain something to you. If I didn’t think the Universe had something up his sleeve I would have never have given Duder a second glance. I made a sincere effort to see if we had a connection, overlooking really immature dating behavior on his part, because I knew (and he knew) that I was really negative about dating.

Instead I simply thank Duder for his honesty and the courtesy in regards to the blog. Besides, I was obviously planning to include everything I hadn’t told him directly in the blog version. He reads it, so he should have been expecting that. And frankly, he should have known better than to get involved with someone writing a blog about dating.
Nobody fucks with the Jesus.

Walter, I love you, but sooner or later, you're going to have to face the fact you're a goddamn moron.

2010-04-30T16:43:00.002-05:00

Duder’s first response to me, sent at approximately 7pm, asked me when was a good time to call me the following night, so that he could have more time to develop another date idea. We’ve already established how obnoxious I find this behavior. He also basically says he has never been, and will never be a dancer. He suggests that perhaps he is giving himself more credit than he deserves in regards to putting himself outside of his comfort zone. That's right dude. One hundred percent certain.

Duder’s second response sent at approximately 11pm that same night, listed three very good activity date suggestions. Followed by each suggestion was why he didn’t think his suggestion was good.

Suggestion #1: The Driving Range

Why I would have accepted: I LOVE the driving range, even more than I love golfing
Why he pulled the idea: “that seems extremely ‘guy’ and not at all considerate of your wants”

Chauvinist much? I’m pretty sure that strip clubs are the only “guy” activity I know of.

Suggestion #2: Running

Why I wouldn’t have accepted: Duder was new to running and seemed terribly self conscious about it. I definitely run with newbies, but it didn’t seem like something he would enjoy.
Why he pulled the idea: Because he wouldn’t have enjoyed it. He said he knows I like it, and would like to cater to me even if it’s at the expense of his pride.

Oooh, martyr for a cause. And the cause is me! Look, if you don’t want to do something, don’t suggest it. With only the 2nd date I’m sure there’s plenty available that we both like to choose from.

Suggestion #3: Kickball

Why I would have accepted: I really do want to practice before my kickball league starts
Why he pulled the idea: He doesn’t have access to a kickball.

Problem Solving 101: Go fucking buy a kickball. You most certainly have access to stores, suburb boy, and probably access to $12.00.

Shit! Walter, you fuck... you fucked it up! You fucked it up! Her life was in our hands, man!

He again suggested we talk on the phone the next day to discuss. What is there to discuss? What is the matter with him? I can come up with my own reasons to decline your ideas; I don’t need you to torpedo them for me. If you want a girl to spend time with you at least pretend to think she would enjoy doing so.

And what’s with the stream of consciousness? I appreciate that coming up with dates can be hard work; I just wish he would have kept some of his thoughts to himself, or ran them by a pal. I had no idea how to respond in a positive way to his suggestions without tearing him a new one for the crappy presentation.

Obviously I had to wait another full day before responding. I did the only thing I could think of. I took getting together Friday off the table entirely, and suggested we try again from scratch.

Dude, are you fucking this up?

2010-04-27T10:33:00.002-05:00

I hate everything about Duder’s response to my email suggestion for our next date. I hate the way he shoots down my awesome dancing suggestion – stating that it’s awesome but that because he’s “frightened, weak, selfish, or just plain difficult” he has to decline. I hate the suggestion he counters with, going to see a free movie that he doesn’t necessarily seem interested in, just happened to receive an email notification for. He also offers to watch The Big Lebowski with me, which technically is still my suggestion since I had already told him I was planning to watch it.

I hate that he concludes by suggesting we discuss over the phone (instead of just calling me), and reminds me (not for the first time) that I should feel free to call him anytime, and that if he’s busy, he just won’t answer. Side note on the calling: During the NCAA tournament I sent him a text instead of calling because basketball was on. In part I didn’t want to disturb his watching of the game, but also I was watching the game and didn’t want to talk on the phone. He clarified several times after that that I should feel free to call him whenever I wanted. As if I needed his permission.

Basically I reject everything about his email. Now I realize that a LOT of guys would turn down the dancing suggestion. It’s not so much that he turned it down as the way he turned it down. It sounded like he was the kind of guy who would never, ever challenge the boundaries of his well defined comfort zone. That personality type is zero attractive to me; being willing to try new things is an absolute deal breaker. And his movie suggestion isn’t the worst idea ever; it’s just lame as a counter to my awesome activity date which I was quite excited about. In the words of a friend’s husband, “Your idea rules. His idea drools.” But I can’t very well write that.

Nothing is fucked here, Dude. Come on, you're being very un-Dude. I wait a full day before responding.

I respond with the nicest possible email I can muster up. It attempts to address my concern that he’s not going to be as adventurous as I would have liked. It says “no thank you” to his counter suggestions, with the reason being that I wanted to have a more interactive date (as this is the only way I think I can decide whether we have a connection or not). I put the ball back in his court and ask what he does for recreation?

Oh, the usual. I bowl. Drive around. The occasional acid flashback.

Blond Treehorn Thug: [holding up a bowling ball] What the fuck is this? The Dude: Obviously you're not a golfer.

2010-04-25T13:04:00.004-05:00

This post is part of The Big Ledateski series. I recommend starting at the beginning.

Duder did not disappoint. Well, it was disappointing that he again used email to express his interest in seeing me again instead of giving me any indication of that interest while I was standing in front of him. But there it was, an email sent moments after he must have gotten home from our dinner date. It was titled “Date Debrief”. This guy wasn’t kidding when he said he wasn’t very good at dating.

The main content of the email was more of a follow up from a conversation we had had on our date. Duder had been lamenting having purchased tickets to a band show that was the same night as the NCAA final. Obviously he would be watching basketball, so he needed to offload the tickets. I had mentioned I had a friend who might be interested. I said that based on not recognizing most of the string of artists Duder listed as his favorites and that list sounding very familiar to a list my friend would have made.

In his email, Duder sent me the name of the band and show location, after stating that he “highly doubted my friend had even heard of them”. Then he launched into why my friend should look into this particular theater for live shows. I’m sure he was trying to be helpful, but he came off like a know it all.

As it turns out, my friend had not only heard of the band, he already had tickets. Here’s a hot tip for dating: give your date the benefit of the doubt. Just because YOU don’t believe she knows what she’s talking about, doesn’t mean she doesn’t. These fucking amateurs…

I digress. The rest of the email was about our dating. After restating he had a nice time he reminded me that he was still free on Thursday night. He then stated that his lack of early dating skills extended in no small part to not being able to come up with what to do. To conclude, he told me to enjoy the rest of the week.

I have another hot tip for dating: Stating you are available but suck at dating isn’t the best way to solicit a date suggestion. And even if you do suck, you still have to make an effort. Use the magic of the internet or your friends to come up with an idea. An interested gal will always counter suggest if she doesn’t like the option you presented her.

Now I was on the fence with Duder but I definitely thought he was a good guy. And it was stupidly clear he just needed someone to take hold of the dating reigns. I threw him a bone and made one last date suggestion. It was pretty awesome, I thought, an activity date involving dancing. A stretch, yes, which I explicitly stated in the email, but I really did think it would be fun if he agreed to go.

How would he react to such a bold challenge? Well, Dude, we just don't know.

They posted the next round for the tournament. Donny, shut the f- when do we play?

2010-04-20T21:28:00.006-05:00

This post is part of The Big Ledateski series. I recommend starting at the beginning.

So I was wrong about Duder. It happens, every now and then. Turns out he was interested and had sent me an email saying as much the exact second he got home according both to him and the time stamp of his email. He wanted to go on an actual date, and suggested a restaurant that had been featured in the blog. He said he wanted to ask in person but hadn’t wanted to put me on the spot. He also offered to come all the way to my place to actually pick me up.

I must say I was surprised to see the email. But I thought it was sweet of him to take my date-hating into consideration, and I couldn’t turn down one of my favorite restaurants. Plus, I hadn’t gathered enough intel on Duder to weigh in on my interest level. So I accepted. The picking me up part I graciously declined.

Here’s how the date breaks down.

The Dinner. Delicious. I had this ragout with squash and apples as an appetizer and it was unbelievable. I also had a glass of wine, almost at Duder’s insistence. You see he doesn’t drink when he is driving, which is very smart, but also very contrary to the life of a city dweller, which of course I am. He didn’t want me to feel restricted, but I kept it to one glass. Next to a non-drinker I’m sure I’d look terribly alcoholic. Or at least I would feel that way.

The Ambiance. Good and bad. When given the option to sit in the room with the live music, Duder chose the music. An apt choice, considering he’s very into all those independent bands I’ve never heard of, but it ended up a little loud for conversation. Plus the jazzy musicians were really interesting to watch, and thus very distracting for me.

The Conversation. Decent. More about our interests - we’re both playing kickball although he is team captain and I am new to the “sport” - and a lot about his quirks. Everyone has quirks, I just have an ability to draw them out of people while holding mine back. We lasted a solid hour and a half before we started to struggle.

The Flirting. Non-existent. He did say I looked nice, but there was definitely no “I’m into you” vibe. To be fair, I wasn’t doing any flirting myself, just trying to feel him out, but I’m also the kind of girl who wants a guy to make the move.

The Exit. Well, it went something like this:
Brandt: Well, enjoy. And perhaps we'll see you again some time, Dude.
The Dude: Yeah, sure, if I'm... in the neighborhood and I, uh... gotta use the john.

Actually it went like this:
Duder: Well, have a great weekend. (it was Monday)
Me: Oh, I'm sure I'll talk to you before then. I'll let you know where I'm watching basketball on Saturday if you end up in the city before your (music) show.
Duder: Well we don't know what we're doing yet...

And then I walked myself to my car, through an alley. No next date planned, and seemingly no interest from Duder in planning one. I guess I'll just have to check my email when I get home.

That Rug Really Tied the Room Together (About The Big Ledateski)

2010-04-19T11:11:00.000-05:00

One of the early facts I found out about “Duder” was that he has a serious obsession with the film The Big Lebowski. Having only seen this film once, approximately 10 years ago when it came out on rental, I decided to re-watch this cult classic so as to determine what all the fuss was about. It’s funny. Crude, but funny. And it’s filled with hundreds of memorable quotes.

When starting to blog about Duder, I thought it fitting to use the film not only as the inspiration for his blog name, but as the thematic backdrop to the whole tale.

I find it terribly clever, although substantially more vulgar than my usual language, especially since I have used the quotations without edit. I hope fans of the film will find it clever, too, but of course I realize not everyone has such an intimate relationship with it. You guys will just have to trust me.

The rug really does tie the room together.

You have got to buck up, man. You cannot drag this negative energy in to the tournament!

2010-04-17T09:00:00.004-05:00

This post is part of The Big Ledateski series. I recommend starting at the beginning.

While debating what to do about Duder I review a few more pieces of information at my disposal, mainly an assessment I received from my friend via her law school buddy who had met him at her co-worker’s birthday party that same weekend, and the original email I had received from him via the CraigsList post. Neither is particularly convincing given my current mental state. He has pros – he loves NCAA basketball – and cons – he lives/works in the suburbs. Basically he seems normal.

But the Universe keeps nagging at me, so we all know where this is going. Against my better judgment I send him an email. We cover my reservations – that on the one hand someone who reads my blog has insights into me that they haven’t earned and on the other that some portion of those insights are bound to be totally off-base. He’s a blogger himself, so he seems to understand the concept.

I suggest we meet in person, not a date, mind you, just NCAA tournament basketball as the backdrop to seeing whether there is any real life connection to substantiate the bizarre series of circumstance. He agrees, stating that he finds my ability to schedule this most basic of meetings “refreshing”. I find this a ridiculously depressing commentary on the current state of society.

Fuck the tournament. I must have left too much time between the planning and the actual event, because the closer I get to meeting Duder in person the less I want to go. Everyone around me thinks this will be that “one last first date” but I know it won’t be. I also know thinking like that will only make it more depressing when it turns out to just another mediocre first meeting that goes nowhere.

I dig deep and go through with it, though, vowing to give it an honest to goodness shot. I do a great job of truly being myself and I end up having a perfectly decent time. Duder comes off a little stiff - not sure if it’s nerves or if he just doesn’t get my humor, but he seems decidedly less fun and social than he’s been described. By far my favorite thing about him is that it turns out he knows my very good friend’s husband’s mother. He doesn’t seem to think it’s as remarkable as I do, which is unfortunate. He lets me split the bill, which I appreciate, and both my teams advance in the tournament, which is a plus.

When walking home from the bar I dial up my friend to tell her that I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like me. I don’t have anything specific, just that general feeling that whatever he was hoping I’d be in person I wasn’t. I am proud of myself for marking an effort and relieved I can get back to my dating break.

I guess we can close the file on that one.

that's the way the whole durned human comedy keeps perpetuatin' itself

2010-04-14T12:38:00.001-05:00

No sooner had than the words “I’m on a (dating) break” come out of my mouth when I received an email from a friend and reader of this blog with the subject line: Someone wants to meet you.

Here’s the deal. My friend/reader of this blog also reads a blog about a TV show written by her law school buddy. The TV show blog is also read by the law school buddy’s co-worker and the co-worker’s very good friend. Let’s call the co-worker’s very good friend Duder. Duder finds my friend’s comments interesting and clicks on her name. He sees that she follows another blog, Righting the Courtship. He starts reading and is intrigued by Dater at Large. He wants to meet her – which he passes back to his friend’s co-worker’s law school buddy.

Now I am serious about needing a dating break, dear readers, so serious that I sent emails to the three guys I had just started emailing from a recent CL posting to inform them of this news and apologize for having not realized said break was needed before posting on CraigsList (surprisingly, all of them sent back very sweet emails thanking me for my honesty and hoping my romantic optimism came back soon).

I am also working through several concerns tied to having a dating blog. Mostly that it (a) could be having a negative impact on the success of my dating and (b) creates a world of hurt when discovered by a current subject of its content.

So I tell my friend that instead of categorically saying “no” I’ll think about whether saying “yes” is a good idea or not. While thinking, I happen to check the email account associated with the blog – since I write anonymously I have a separate email that I rarely check – and I have an email with the subject line: As a new follower of your blog.

The email is from Duder, and it’s basically the story I just told you. He very generously states of my blog that “the first screen's worth of posts is all I needed to know I had stumbled upon a great find,” and goes on to say that after reading a few recent posts he decides to start from the beginning. This is where he realizes there is a different author for the first few posts (originally I blogged with my real name, but then I “anonymized” the blog, clearly not that well), and here’s the kicker, he realizes that Dater at Large is the same woman he’s been emailing with from CraigsList.

Got that? My friend’s law school buddy’s co-worker’s friend is the same guy I just rejected on CraigsList. And now he’s reading my blog, about dating, which he found through a 4th removed personal connection to me. And he still wants to meet me.

The Universe needs to give this girl a break. Am I wrong?

Down for the Count

2010-04-09T18:39:00.001-05:00

I cried in a bathroom stall at work today. I cried because I was supposed to have a dinner date tonight. Dinner at a very nice, much too expensive for a first date restaurant with a bona fide dreamboat.

These plans were made on Wednesday, when the dinner and location and day were suggested by The Dreamboat, and agreed to by myself. Only we didn’t specify the time. He was heading out of work and said we’d figure it out later in the week. We didn’t, though, and I haven’t heard from him so I assume the date isn’t happening.

I’ve been instructed several times today to send him an email to confirm our plans myself and/or leave the door open for future plans if he had to cancel this plan for some reason. I simply cannot write that email.

I know, because I’ve tried since lunch. Mostly I don’t feel like writing that email. I feel like I’ve been stood up and that even though everything else The Dreamboat has said indicates clear interest that this one action negates all that. Even if he responded with some perfectly logical reason for having not finished planning our date that I feel like I would no longer be interested in meeting him. Not tonight. Not ever.

I know that I’m overreacting. I’m coming off a string of disappointments, so I know that my dating ego is a little more bruised than normal, but I think it’s more than that. I have been trying for awhile now to take men at their word, even when they weave tales of future romance and relationship that cannot be based on anything even remotely substantial at such an early stage of a relationship. I have given the benefit of the doubt, over and over, on the off chance that these men have lost their phones or are not familiar with dating or are intimidated by me or are very busy when they do not come through as promised. And yet even my lowest expectations are consistently not met; any optimism that I bring to meeting new men is dashed as quickly as it is established.

I am, by nature, a hopeful person. I am almost unfailingly optimistic. Recently, though, I find myself disillusioned with this desire I have for myself… that I’ll meet someone and we’ll fall in love… living happily ever after. I believe that it will happen, but with no evidence to suggest that I’m making any progress I wonder whether I shouldn’t throw in the dating towel in its entirety. I no longer exhibit the resilience needed to continue putting myself out there and my heart is taking a serious beating. I can’t help thinking I could eradicate all my feelings of failure by simply giving up.

I still hope that I do end up with someone. And I believe that if it’s meant to be I will. I do not believe, however, that any of the dating I have done in the past few years has made any difference. So for now, I am officially off the market.

No Guest Needed

2010-04-04T19:57:00.002-05:00

This year my wedding season started early, with two weddings in the first quarter. I attended both of these weddings alone as I had no regular interest to drag along. Call me crazy, but I think I’m getting better at attending them solo. In fact, I think I’ve even hit upon some perks of being a single lady at a wedding.

Take the dancing. As a single I don’t have to cajole my date into slow dancing with me. I can count on one hand the number of married friends I have whose husbands willingly dance with them at any type of event, including weddings, and yet I do not have one single girlfriend who does not want her husband to dance with her. At every event. With no date I simply sidestep this time honored tradition.

I get to dance, though, because as a single I’m a prime target for men, young and old, who want to show off their moves. Yes, I had a very awkward time teaching the very drunk co-worker of the groom how to polka, but I also found out that with just a smidgen of encouragement the bride’s step dad was a wonderful dancer.

Who you’re sitting with can be a toss up whether you’re with guest or not so that’s sort of a wash, but in general as a single I can socialize at my own pace. Most weddings I attend are for friends I’ve known for years. I know folks from both the bride and groom’s sides, and I often know family. Not having to ensure my date is involved in engaging conversation means I can engage myself however and with whomever I please.

And then there's the financial aspect... a wedding is an expensive date! As a single my wedding gift represents me, instead of myself and my plus one. It’s cheaper, yes, but it always feels a little odd to give more at a wedding when I've brought a guest (who isn't - and shouldn't be - contributing financially).

Yep, there’s a lot of great reasons to attend a wedding solo, whether you have a steady boyfriend or not. I can still eat two pieces of cake, though, right?

A Double Standard

2010-03-31T19:13:00.002-05:00

When I react negatively to an email I get from some guy I’ve started seeing everyone around me - men and women - encourages me not to judge so harshly. Its suggested that I give him the benefit of the doubt, that I read between the lines to come to an alternative, more preferable version of what his email means. I’m reminded that men don’t think about what they write (and apparently don’t spell check), and how they don’t want to come on too strong or are afraid of rejection.

Now when I write emails, or respond to the aforementioned undesired email, I typically ask someone to proof it first because I want to make sure it has the right tone. The feedback that I receive usually includes the phrases “that sounds harsh” or “you don’t want to crush his ego”, encouraging me to soften the language and make the email more upbeat… never mind what I’m actually feeling.

Uh, double standard much? I’m supposed to run through several iterations of what some guy really “meant” to say with his email because I might be misinterpreting it but I’m also expected to create multiple iterations of my own emails to make sure that they can’t be misinterpreted by that same guy? That’s bullshit.

If I have to think about word choice and tone and worry about how my interest level might be construed, then so should the men I am writing to. They can’t have it both ways - if they aren’t going to pay attention to what they’re writing, then neither am I.

! Note to men I’m going to date in the future: If you want me to think that you’re an intelligent individual, use correct grammar in your written communications. If you’re trying to express feelings or say “no” to something I suggest, maybe take a few minutes to read your email to see if it could be read differently than how you meant it. Adjust said email accordingly.

! Secondary note to those same men: If you get an email from me that sounds like I think you’re lame, I do. If it sounds like you’ve totally jacked things up with me and I’m not really sure I want to see you again, it’s because you have. I would see you again, though, if you could you show me that you aren’t lame, or that you’re sorry you jacked things up.

There are plenty of traditional male/female roles that I think have value, but the ability to communicate effectively isn’t one of them. I'll say it to my friend's toddlers and I'll say it to you. Use your words.

I (Don’t) Hate It When That Happens

2010-03-27T20:02:00.004-05:00

I’m back from vacation, which means I should be excited about getting my 2nd date on the books with The Gentleman. Monday I saw him online, and sent an IM hello, but he dropped back offline before responding. And that night I sent him a text message, that I was back – with key chain – and would try to call him later as I had after work plans. And then I just didn’t. Didn’t call, didn’t email, didn’t text.

I find in early dating if I don’t talk to my new interest regularly I lose interest. This seems to happen no matter how into a guy I seemed initially, the longer the gap between talking the harder it seems to get over that hump of starting up conversation again.

I hate it when that happens, especially because there are a plenty of valid reasons why you wouldn’t be able to communicate with someone frequently when you meet him. Like because you are on vacation.

But it isn’t just the lack of talking, sometimes it’s difficulty in scheduling that pushes you and your maybe new boyfriend apart. You want to get together, you just can’t seem to successfully do so. This happened before my vacation with The Gentleman, I threw out day and evening options but none of them seemed to align with his non-standard (and seemingly impossible to decipher) schedule.

I hate it when that happens, and not just because “bad timing” has been a theme in my dating since I graduated college. It is beyond frustrating to find someone you want to spend time with only to be unable to spend time with them for reasons like work, a volleyball league or children's bed times.

Then again, sometimes in early dating you find you just aren’t interested. You bump someone to 2nd date status only to clarify for yourself on that date that they won’t be making it to #3. The Gentleman didn’t reach out to me either, which probably means he isn’t that interested in me. Things have sort of petered out on their own, so I don’t have to (a) try to explain why I’m not interested and (b) feel rejected (see a).

I don’t hate it what that happens; it's the cleanest possible ending when you don't find a connection with someone. No awkward conversations, no trying to spare feelings (or wishing yours had been spared). It's ideal.

There is one loose end - figuring out what to do with that key chain. I knew I shouldn’t have bought it.

Fishing Hole Review: Social Mixers

2010-03-23T18:58:00.004-05:00

Can you really meet men anywhere? People are always telling me to volunteer or join a club to meet men since I have such consistently poor luck with online dating and have sworn off dating co-workers. People who did not meet their signifanct others at such places, mind you, are making these suggestions.

I’m nothing if not open minded, so rather than join a team for a sport I don’t play, I started by attending a social mixer. While the term may bring to mind visions of dance partners and spiked fruit punch it turns out the format has been modernized. A friend of a friend regularly hosts Minglers, right here in Chicago.

Here’s how she describes it:

30 to 60 diverse strangers
+ all ages, all sexualities, any relationship status
+ snacks and drinks
+ music
+ games
+ a comfy Roscoe Village home
Mac ‘n Cheese Minglers

Since it’s not specifically a single’s event I thought the vibe would be more relaxed, and I might even be able to meet some new gals pals in addition to a new romantic interest. After missing a few dates due to scheduling conflicts I finally made the guest list.

Venue
+ The event is casual and low cost ($15 + an assigned snack: appetizer, wine/beer or dessert)
+ You can attend as many Minglers as you want with a low likelihood of seeing the same folks as the hostess tries to stick to strangers on the guest list
- You only get the one shot to make a connection with someone specific, because you will likely not see them at future Minglers but
+ You can request contact information through the hostess after the event if you don’t get the opportunity at the event. There is also a Facebook page where you can hunt on your own.

Guests
+ The attendees are definitely diverse in terms of age, race, gender, careers, etc.
- You aren't guaranteed that anyone is there looking for love, and if there is, you aren't able to distinguish them from those who are attached romantically

Activities
+ There are aptly termed “mixer” games that allow you to easily start talking to anyone there
- One of the games we played had us grouped, which was great for getting to know the folks in your group better, but didn’t give you as much freedom to spend time with whoever you wanted

Final Recommendation: I had a really good time at the Mingler, but if I were to attend again I‘d keep my eye on the prize. In my attempt to “mingle” I ended up having short conversations with basically everyone there, instead of looking to meet people who I enjoyed and spending more time getting to know them. There were definitely some men I thought had potential, but I never really focused in on them. I acted more the like the host of a party than a guest with purpose.

I was contacted after the Mingler, but only for my cupcake recipe. I may attend again when the weather is nice - our real hostess has a gorgeous outdoor deck - but I’ll aim to make more of an impression this time around.

March Madness

2010-03-20T14:52:00.003-05:00

March Madness, a 2 ½ week period when 64 teams via for the NCAA basketball championship, is my favorite holiday. For years I’ve taken off work to watch the second day of the first round, spending the day with friends drinking beer, eating wings and watching basketball. This year was no exception, true to tradition I spent the day with B, a girlfriend, and she invited a new guy she’d been seeing to join us around lunch time. They’d only been on two dates, and she wasn’t really sure whether she was into him or not. She didn’t tell me much about him - she wanted to wait until after he’d left so I could form my own impressions.

I formed several, most notably that he was definitely into B. Although not a basketball fan, he doggedly attempted to follow along with our bracket analysis and participate in the upsets and overtimes, which I thought was admirable. He was very different from her, though. She’s outgoing, social, animated. He seemed more reserved, almost a little socially awkward. I thought he could be more interesting with practice.

During the break in the action between the afternoon and early evening games B communicated to me via looks across the table that she was ready for her date to leave. He had only planned to stay for lunch but had made no indication that he was getting ready to head out, even telling her he was thinking he’d skip his evening theatre plans. I silently communicated back that there was no good exit strategy when you’re sitting in a bar indefinitely.

B got up to use the ladies, and about a minute later her date got up and walked over to the bar to talk to our waitress. He then headed into the crowd and appeared to be leaving the bar entirely. When our waitress headed back to our table I asked her what he had talked to her about. She said he had paid our entire tab, our several hundred dollar beer and snacks tab we’d been accruing for around seven hours. He had indeed left the bar.

I relayed this to B when she came back from the ladies. She was dumbfounded, and left a voice mail for her date thanking him for his very generous (and very unnecessary) financial contribution but wondering why he left without saying anything. He responded via text that he was sorry he had left suddenly, that he’d paid the bill, and thanked her for having invited him out.

We were at a loss to explain his behavior. B shared her additional insights into this man to try and help, including that he’s very wealthy. We don’t know whether this man felt like the appropriate thing to do was to pay our entire bill (which it wasn’t) or whether he felt like he was invited so we didn’t have to pay (which is insulting), but I hope not. We are also left to wonder if this man thought that paying the bill made up for leaving without saying goodbye, which it most certainly did not. Under no circumstances is that behavior acceptable.

We do know that we were left with the cash that our other friends had left on our table for their portion of the bill. We gave our waitress a generous tip for our last few beers and split the rest between us.

I also know that I’ve finally gotten something back for having to live through the bizarreness that is dating (albeit indirectly through B). I spent 11 hours in a bar yesterday, eating and drinking, and walked away with enough cash to pay for my taxi ride home. March Madness… It really is the most wonderful time of the year.

A Small Token of My Affection

2010-03-16T22:06:00.003-05:00

I unfortunately wasn’t able to make date #2 with the gentleman work before my vacation (I tried, dear readers, I really tried) but I did get a very sweet text message around the time he thought I was flying out. In the last email we exchanged after deciding we’d have to wait until I got back to see each other he told me to bring him back a key chain.

I’m sure he was kidding, but I’m thinking about buying him one. I mean, I wouldn’t necessarily have to give it to him if I didn’t want to. And having it might come in adorably handy .

Then again, what if I bought the keychain and never had the occasion to give it to The Gentleman? I’d have this stupid keychain to remind me I’d allowed my sappy side to think it was cute to buy a gift for a man I barely knew. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Years ago, when I was in the midst of on-and-off dating someone (the man who inspired the first haiku, as it happens) I happened upon some personalized panties in a boutique. They were thongs, with men’s names labeled on them. The kind of labels you’d see on a mechanic’s or trucker’s shirt. The kind of labels this man would have on his clothing. I couldn’t help it, I bought those panties, with his name and a little rhinestone, for $28.00 + tax.

Those panties are still wrapped in the tissue paper with the boutique sticker affixed, in the back of my lingerie drawer. I haven’t seen that man since before I bought them. Our together status was influenced mostly be whether or not he was in town; he almost always wasn’t due to his work. By the time he got back, I had learned the travel made him pretty selfish when it came to being a part of his family and friend’s lives. I was in better touch with him than some of his life long friends. It changed how I felt about him, I just gave up on trying to make it work.

Part of me keeps hoping I’ll date a man with the same name and can make use of them. They’re really great, sexy in a not cheesy way, they should not go to waste! And they were expensive! More expensive than the regular panties I wear. Most of me knows eventually I’ll have to throw them away, though, a foolish purchase by a foolish girl.

Still, I like the idea that I wanted to buy those panties for that man. Maybe I should start looking for a keychain for The Gentleman. At least it wouldn't be personalized.