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.
Showing posts with label Sweet Success. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sweet Success. Show all posts
The Great Blind Date
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
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.
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.
So… My Bad?
Thursday, November 11, 2010
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.
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.
Mark It.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
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?
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?
“Safety First.”
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
My dad must have said this a thousand times throughout my childhood, and even now he still pulls it out when I’m describing some new adventure I’m going on. They’re good words to pass on to your kids – simple and to the point. I try to apply them to my life, including my dating life, and mostly I think I’m safe. My email doesn’t have my real name associated to it, I meet dates on location, I tell others where I’ll be and when possible I make friends with the bartender/bouncer/etc. in case things get way out of hand.
It’s a fine line, though. Dating requires you to share things about yourself, personal things, basically while interacting online, on the phone and in person with a complete and total stranger. You have to be careful without being paranoid. You have to maintain a safe distance without pushing your new interest away.
Take my first date with The Gentleman. We planned to meet for a drink but the details were decided on the fly, on the phone, while he was driving.
“Where do you want to meet?” he asks.
“Depends on where you are.” I respond.
“I’m just getting off at 123 Street.”
“Oh! That’s basically three blocks from my place,” I say, thinking Crap! I’ve still got jammy pants on.
“I could swing by and pick you up.”
“Uh, sure” I say, as alarm bells start sounding in my head. “Or I could just meet you…” I trail off. We haven’t decided where we’re going but we also don’t get into cars with men we don’t know.
I agree to be picked up, giving directions to my place (which I normally withhold until date #2, excluding make out dates, obviously) while hastily slapping on lip gloss and better pants. I figure if he or the car looks shady I can find a way to decline.
He isn’t; shady that is, and neither is his very expensive and European vehicle. Not only that, he gets out into the Chicago winter to greet me and put me into my seat. I feel like a kidnapping is very unlikely so I allow him to drive me literally 2 blocks to a corner cantina (which he chose, not me). The date itself is good; we have just one drink as planned as he has somewhere to be later, and the conversation flows. He’s very attractive, engaging, and seems to find me similarly so. I bump him to 2nd date status.
We head back to my place and while idling in front of my building he asks if he can use my restroom. He’s about 20 minutes from where he’s heading and hates to ask, but the bathroom at the bar left something to be desired. He would know, he had used it approx 1 hour earlier (he WAS gone awhile). I said sure, hesitating first to think of the state my bathroom was in. He confirms it’s okay with me. Yes, I say, as long as he promises to ignore the state of things in my place. Then as we’re walking down my hallway I suddenly start thinking DANGER! My condo is a long rectangle with only one exit. What if all this politeness was an act and once he gets into my place… my thoughts trail off and I decide to stay near the door in case he tries anything. And then once he’s in the bathroom I text a friend to call me in five minutes. Not sure how this will help, but I figure it can’t hurt. As it happens, she calls as I’m walking The Gentleman to the door, after he’s asked to see me again and is kissing my cheek.
I was safe this time, The Gentleman is deserving of his nickname, but I didn’t put my safety first. Not having something bad happen after making a potentially bad decision is just lucky. I think of all the times I’ve been even less safe – plan out irresponsible – and I’m thankful that my good will, or naiveté, hasn’t been taken advantage of. I should trust the men I’m dating, but only to the extent that they’ve validate they are trustworthy. And for their part, these men should respect my boundaries, whatever they are, until we are both comfortable.
Sometimes in my rush to respond, in my desire to be liked, I forget to give myself time to think. I blow by the warning flags I see popping up. Not anymore, though. I won’t tempt the fates and push my luck. I’ll go out with The Gentleman again, but I don’t think he’ll be visiting my bathroom anytime soon.
Safety First. Love Second.
It’s a fine line, though. Dating requires you to share things about yourself, personal things, basically while interacting online, on the phone and in person with a complete and total stranger. You have to be careful without being paranoid. You have to maintain a safe distance without pushing your new interest away.
Take my first date with The Gentleman. We planned to meet for a drink but the details were decided on the fly, on the phone, while he was driving.
“Where do you want to meet?” he asks.
“Depends on where you are.” I respond.
“I’m just getting off at 123 Street.”
“Oh! That’s basically three blocks from my place,” I say, thinking Crap! I’ve still got jammy pants on.
“I could swing by and pick you up.”
“Uh, sure” I say, as alarm bells start sounding in my head. “Or I could just meet you…” I trail off. We haven’t decided where we’re going but we also don’t get into cars with men we don’t know.
I agree to be picked up, giving directions to my place (which I normally withhold until date #2, excluding make out dates, obviously) while hastily slapping on lip gloss and better pants. I figure if he or the car looks shady I can find a way to decline.
He isn’t; shady that is, and neither is his very expensive and European vehicle. Not only that, he gets out into the Chicago winter to greet me and put me into my seat. I feel like a kidnapping is very unlikely so I allow him to drive me literally 2 blocks to a corner cantina (which he chose, not me). The date itself is good; we have just one drink as planned as he has somewhere to be later, and the conversation flows. He’s very attractive, engaging, and seems to find me similarly so. I bump him to 2nd date status.
We head back to my place and while idling in front of my building he asks if he can use my restroom. He’s about 20 minutes from where he’s heading and hates to ask, but the bathroom at the bar left something to be desired. He would know, he had used it approx 1 hour earlier (he WAS gone awhile). I said sure, hesitating first to think of the state my bathroom was in. He confirms it’s okay with me. Yes, I say, as long as he promises to ignore the state of things in my place. Then as we’re walking down my hallway I suddenly start thinking DANGER! My condo is a long rectangle with only one exit. What if all this politeness was an act and once he gets into my place… my thoughts trail off and I decide to stay near the door in case he tries anything. And then once he’s in the bathroom I text a friend to call me in five minutes. Not sure how this will help, but I figure it can’t hurt. As it happens, she calls as I’m walking The Gentleman to the door, after he’s asked to see me again and is kissing my cheek.
I was safe this time, The Gentleman is deserving of his nickname, but I didn’t put my safety first. Not having something bad happen after making a potentially bad decision is just lucky. I think of all the times I’ve been even less safe – plan out irresponsible – and I’m thankful that my good will, or naiveté, hasn’t been taken advantage of. I should trust the men I’m dating, but only to the extent that they’ve validate they are trustworthy. And for their part, these men should respect my boundaries, whatever they are, until we are both comfortable.
Sometimes in my rush to respond, in my desire to be liked, I forget to give myself time to think. I blow by the warning flags I see popping up. Not anymore, though. I won’t tempt the fates and push my luck. I’ll go out with The Gentleman again, but I don’t think he’ll be visiting my bathroom anytime soon.
Safety First. Love Second.
Merry Christmas to Me!
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Even though I’ve spent the better part of this year making sport of the dating deficiencies in the men I seem to attract I clearly ended up on the “Nice” list. I received an early, awesome Christmas present on Wednesday in the form of my latest first date.
We met on Match.com in short order. Wink (his), email (mine followed by his), phone call (mine), date suggestion (his). We met for drinks (his suggestion) at a bar where we could catch the basketball game (my contribution). Simply put we hit it off.
I won’t bore you with the adorableness of a great first date (except to say there was hand holding while walking the streets of the city while it snowed) but I will say this. When you meet someone you have chemistry with, you know right away. I think I had forgotten what that feels like - it’s exciting and nerve-wracking and full of promise. Lesson #1: No one should waste their time trying to manufacture chemistry. Just keep looking till you find it.
The other thing about this one is I think I’ve met someone who will actually be a good personality match for me. For awhile now I've been thinking (read: know) I should date someone who’s more type A than I, someone who says what he thinks and goes after what he wants. This guy is super direct, focused, and kind of intense (in a way that makes him even hotter than he already is).
I will have to seriously step up to the plate to date this man. You see, even though I am perfectly capable of stating my mind in my non-dating life, I get all insecure like in my dating life. I think I seek out relationships with guys who won’t expect me to talk about feelings and such, who aren’t capable of being that strong guy presence. Those relationships don’t work, because I'm holding back, waiting for them to drive things forward and they never will.
That will not be the case with this man, and he deserves someone who is available and honest about what they're feeling. Lesson #2: Put yourself out there. When you do meet someone you click with, don't hold back (especially if it challenges some of your dating insecurities).
So I’m excited, a little nervous, and hopeful. More to come on this one, say early next week after our already scheduled Monday night (football) date?
We met on Match.com in short order. Wink (his), email (mine followed by his), phone call (mine), date suggestion (his). We met for drinks (his suggestion) at a bar where we could catch the basketball game (my contribution). Simply put we hit it off.
I won’t bore you with the adorableness of a great first date (except to say there was hand holding while walking the streets of the city while it snowed) but I will say this. When you meet someone you have chemistry with, you know right away. I think I had forgotten what that feels like - it’s exciting and nerve-wracking and full of promise. Lesson #1: No one should waste their time trying to manufacture chemistry. Just keep looking till you find it.
The other thing about this one is I think I’ve met someone who will actually be a good personality match for me. For awhile now I've been thinking (read: know) I should date someone who’s more type A than I, someone who says what he thinks and goes after what he wants. This guy is super direct, focused, and kind of intense (in a way that makes him even hotter than he already is).
I will have to seriously step up to the plate to date this man. You see, even though I am perfectly capable of stating my mind in my non-dating life, I get all insecure like in my dating life. I think I seek out relationships with guys who won’t expect me to talk about feelings and such, who aren’t capable of being that strong guy presence. Those relationships don’t work, because I'm holding back, waiting for them to drive things forward and they never will.
That will not be the case with this man, and he deserves someone who is available and honest about what they're feeling. Lesson #2: Put yourself out there. When you do meet someone you click with, don't hold back (especially if it challenges some of your dating insecurities).
So I’m excited, a little nervous, and hopeful. More to come on this one, say early next week after our already scheduled Monday night (football) date?
Maybe I'm Getting the Hang of This
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
It’s been a rough couple of weeks on the single scene… being ditched for a sports drink, finding out my crush had a girlfriend… I was beginning to think the universe and I were in a fight. And then the craziest thing happened. I met a guy.
It was Sunday and I was out supporting the marathon per my usual: I run over to the 20-mile mark in time to cheer for my fastest runner friend and then I wait for and cheer other friends until my (only slightly less fast) friends come by, at which point I join them on the course and run with them until I reach our local watering hole.
I’ve done this for the past few years but this time while I was waiting for my fast friend to come by this guy started chatting with me. We proceeded to chat for close to an hour, I think, mostly about running related things, but other stuff as well. The conversation was really organic, and about midway through I started thinking maybe I should let this guy know that I was single.
I managed to capitalize on him mentioning seeing someone with a shirt that read “So-and-So, will you be my girlfriend”? Formally asking someone to be your girlfriend led to discussion of asking someone to go steady (favorite of his) led to discussion about crushes (favorite of mine). Enter me saying my crush was no more, and he responding that neither was his.
By the time I spotted my friends we had been formally introduced and I had invited him to join us at the aforementioned watering hole. As I leapt into the stream of runners I made a point of telling him it was great to meet him and that he really should come to the bar later. Then I was off.
I think you know what comes next. Three hours later, after I had run 4 miles with my friends and the other mile and a half at a slower pace, cheered on random runners while waiting for my friends to make it back from the finish and ordered lunch snacks and a beer, Marathon Guy walked into the bar.
He was just passing through, he had plans with his own friends, so he was literally there JUST TO GET MY PHONE NUMBER. We chatted for a few more minutes, exchanged digits, and he left to meet his friends. I got well-deserved high fives from my whole table. It was the single most impressive dating moment of my entire adult life.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I think I may have found myself a winner.
It was Sunday and I was out supporting the marathon per my usual: I run over to the 20-mile mark in time to cheer for my fastest runner friend and then I wait for and cheer other friends until my (only slightly less fast) friends come by, at which point I join them on the course and run with them until I reach our local watering hole.
I’ve done this for the past few years but this time while I was waiting for my fast friend to come by this guy started chatting with me. We proceeded to chat for close to an hour, I think, mostly about running related things, but other stuff as well. The conversation was really organic, and about midway through I started thinking maybe I should let this guy know that I was single.
I managed to capitalize on him mentioning seeing someone with a shirt that read “So-and-So, will you be my girlfriend”? Formally asking someone to be your girlfriend led to discussion of asking someone to go steady (favorite of his) led to discussion about crushes (favorite of mine). Enter me saying my crush was no more, and he responding that neither was his.
By the time I spotted my friends we had been formally introduced and I had invited him to join us at the aforementioned watering hole. As I leapt into the stream of runners I made a point of telling him it was great to meet him and that he really should come to the bar later. Then I was off.
I think you know what comes next. Three hours later, after I had run 4 miles with my friends and the other mile and a half at a slower pace, cheered on random runners while waiting for my friends to make it back from the finish and ordered lunch snacks and a beer, Marathon Guy walked into the bar.
He was just passing through, he had plans with his own friends, so he was literally there JUST TO GET MY PHONE NUMBER. We chatted for a few more minutes, exchanged digits, and he left to meet his friends. I got well-deserved high fives from my whole table. It was the single most impressive dating moment of my entire adult life.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I think I may have found myself a winner.
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