Did You Know You Can Restore Your Gmail Contacts?

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.

Really, Santa?

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.

Good Luck Chuck

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 Stand-In

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.

Busted.

Six months after I started this blogging adventure, and barely a month after I gave thanks that no one I had written about had found the blog, it happened. Someone I had dated, who I had written about, busted me. He emailed me (which we sometimes still do), saying he had come across my blog and was "intrigued". Before I even had a chance to decide how to respond - do I tell him about the post he’s featured in? - he wrote back this: oh, so I am TOTALLY Hobbes!

And he is. Fortunately he was not featured in a Failed First Date or even worse, a Worst Date Ever, I wrote about him in the post How Long Should You Wait for The Spark?.

In my response I included this ridiculously run on sentence: “This is new for me. I feel a teeny bit awkward but mostly I think it's funny and I hope you don't feel bad about what I wrote and also thanks for reading and saying you like it.” What am I, twelve?

Better back and forth email ensued, in which we mostly talked about... his hair. He describes his previous, longer hair as cringe-worthy. I thought it suited him, actually, but now he’s sporting a shorter, more professional do, and also, a beard. I always did like emailing with him, never could tell where the conversation would lead us.

Back on the topic of having an open window into my dating life, he went as far as to say “Honestly reading it has made you more endearing because it demystified what little I knew about you personally and made you more human with some of the same struggles and insecurities that I have. That any of us have.”

I’m not sure about being mystifying, but he’s definitely onto something. I used to hide the things that made me feel insecure or uncomfortable from even my nearest and dearest. I felt embarrassed, I guess, and thought it would change, in a bad way, how they felt about me. As it turns out, that's crap, and writing this blog has helped me open up about everything that affects me, flattering or not. Through it I’m becoming more comfortable with who I am and that’s bettering all my relationships, not just my dating ones.

He offered to not read the blog, but it honestly doesn't bother me. I‘m glad that he gets to see who I am, if only in my dating realm. I think I'm starting to prefer the honest and upfront approach. Maybe I'm not busted, after all.

Oh and since he’s clearly not sure why I nicknamed him Hobbes in the post, it’s because of his old email signature: It's a magical world, Hobbes, ol' buddy....Let's go exploring! [Bill Watterson]

Let’s go exploring, indeed.

Wonders Never Cease

I have a confession, dear readers. I have not stopped texting Surf Dude despite haven officially given him the blog-boot about a month ago (see Wipeout: Surf Dude). Perhaps most disturbing, I have managed to rack up around $40 of additional cell phone charges this past month due exclusively to texting him. Clearly I have a problem.

Sometimes he starts it, sometimes I do, and we often talk about meeting up (usually one of us is tipsy during this exchange) and then we never do. Last night, though, the craziest thing happened. I invited him to come over to watch Elf, one of my most favorite holiday films. He wanted me to go over to his place. We went around a few times about each other's places via text and then HE CALLED ME AND ASKED ME OUT.

That isn’t even the craziest part. Listen to the date he proposed:

• First, he picks me up and brings me to his place, where he cooks me dinner
  
• Second, we go to his basketball game (he’s very serious about not missing it) and presumably I cheer
  
• Third, we head back to his place for a movie, which we fall asleep watching
  
• And finally, I stay over and the next morning HE DRIVES ME TO WORK

Woah, I say, that’s a pretty big plan. After I make him repeat it I realize that he wants me to get ready for work at his house and go straight to the office. Surf Dude and I never got anywhere near the stage where I would get ready for work at his house, I've actually never even been AT his house.

After months of not being able to ask me out at all he practically invites me to move in with him. Am I the only one who thinks there’s a progression from strangers to casual dating to serious dating? (the answer to that, by the way, is clearly yes). But I’ve got to give it to him for trying to suggest a normal date and saying Yes doesn't really hurt any.

We settle on the dinner part for sure, with me driving myself so that I can leave (I was given the options of him picking me up directly from work or at my house) anytime during his 12-hour plan that I deem appropriate.

Surf Dude has a terrible record for follow through, so I’ll let you know whether he even remembers to send me his address.

Whatever Happened to Wooing?

Wooing, by definition, involves effort on the part of the interested:
v.tr. 1. To seek the affection of with intent to romance. 2. (a) To seek to achieve; try to gain. (b) To tempt or invite. 3. To entreat, solicit, or importune.
v.intr. To court a woman.

Now, I’m not your average traditional girl, especially when it comes to the gushy stuff. Most everything that falls under traditional notions of “romance” makes me scrunch up my face in disgust but I do like some amount of effort in someone seeking my affection. I should be invited to spend time with someone so I can decide whether he is worthy of my returned affections. I should be tempted to throw caution to the wind, ignoring all my pre-conceived notions of how relationships should be and opening myself up to all the things that could be.

In short, I like some amount of formal courting when I’m getting to know a guy. For example, I think you should go on actual dates, planned in advance. I also think there should be some mystery to the other person, some ramp up in intimacy between an initial meeting and when you see them eating noodles in their underwear over the sink.

Without it, I have a hard time maintaining interest. Which is why I think Marathon Guy and I aren’t going to make it. Take the below text message “conversation” we had last week:

Marathon Guy: Hows ur night?
Me: Okay, just finishing up some work. You?
Marathon Guy: Cleaning, doing laundry and watching the game
Me: Baseball? Didn’t you just do laundry?
Marathon Guy: Like a week ago I did. Ya baseball
Me: That’s a lot of clothes to go through
Marathon Guy: Actually no, hence the frequent washing
Me: Maybe you should buy more
Marathon Guy: I’m in the process

Really? Two dates and we’re discussing his lack of clothing? And that’s all we end up chatting about? Not “what are you up to this weekend” or “maybe we should get together?”

I'm not looking for flowers and candles, but I am looking for someone who is at least interested enough to put in the effort to ask me out. Until then, there are going to be a lot of single nights ahead.

Don't Take the Lead if You Don't Want to be Followed

Last Saturday I had one of those experiences I never get to have myself but am constantly hearing about from other people. I met someone, randomly, and we hit it off.

I was at German Fest with a gal pal and we crossed paths with this guy when I was hopping around near the speakers and the polka band. He basically made fun of me, turning my obvious polka moves into lunges. We chatted briefly and then went our separate ways. He kept popping up, though, culminating in an unbelievably fun (and advanced) polka dancing bonanza. I felt like something was really starting for me.

And then I got dissed. Instead of my getting my phone number he went to the 7Eleven to get Gatorade.

When it happened I was really hurt. I felt like I wasn’t desirable and couldn’t read guy signals and that I should just throw in the towel altogether. I had also drank two and a half large steins of beer. So the next morning I thought about it again and you know what, I’m still kind of hurt.

I put myself out there, more than I normally do, but I was basically following his lead. He was clearly interested and so was I. I even went so far as to suggest that he call me sometime. He says, while holding his phone, that he doesn’t have my number… in fact he doesn’t know my name. So we exchange names and then for whatever reason he just bails.

Maybe this is how guys feel all the time, taking the lead and putting themselves out there, thinking they’re making progress only to get abandoned at last call. Maybe I’ve been that girl and I’ve been insensitive or unaware to their pain all these years.

To my credit, I didn’t try to lead anyone on on purpose. And Lunge Guy, he did do it on purpose, finding me over and over during the fest. I mean, he taught me the words to "Take Me Home, Country Roads". We did a dip during our dancing!

I guess the point of this rant is that no one should be leading anyone else on. If you aren’t available then you shouldn’t be doing things that indicate (a) you are available and (b) you are interested. Don’t see if you’ve still got the moves, don’t walk the thin line between having fun with a stranger and cheating on your actual significant other and don’t invite someone to polka. Dancing is surprisingly personal, it requires really focusing on your dance partner and trusting them.

Fortunately there’s a silver lining to this night, besides the delicious potato salad, and it’s that I’m a pretty good dancer. I think I’m going to make a pretty good girlfriend, too, as soon as I find the right partner.

He Likes Me... He Likes Me Not...

I recently stopped being one of those girls that came up with hundreds of reasons why guys didn’t call me. Now I just believe guys who like you, call you. Or email, or text message, etc. I also believe guys who like you ask you out. It seems pretty straightforward so this is obviously where I get into trouble.

Take this guy I recently met online. After a few emails we talk on the phone, but I think I’m talking too much, rambling and being uninteresting. I must do something right, because he suggests we get together sometime and I agree that we should. No actual plans are made, though, and our conversation ends when he abruptly says he’s heading to bed.

My gut says, he’s not interested, suggestion to get together without any invite details (when, where, what) is usually a courtesy phrase, like when you run into someone you used to be friends with and on parting say "we should get together sometime". You both nod, knowing you’ll never call each other.

I’m feeling adventurous, though, so as my weekend is winding down on Sunday I call him to see if he’s free for sushi. I leave a voicemail and don’t hear back until a few days later, but he seems friendly and throws out drinks on Friday. Maybe I had it wrong, he does seem interested.

I’m not available on the Friday, though, so I counter with Wednesday. He’s not available and we exchange a few emails that end with me asking whether he wants to pick a date to grab drinks next week. I hear back nothing for ten days (including two weekends). Not interested.

But then out of nowhere, he sends an email saying he hadn’t heard back from me… did I still want to get together? Interested, albeit inaccurate as I had emailed last.

I reply back promptly that yes, I am interested. What did he have in mind? Two days later he responds asking what I was doing over the weekend and that he was thinking Sat or Sun. Now I’m confused. Not interested?

My trusty guy work friend says he might be trying to avoid all the scheduling issues we’ve been experiencing by being the most flexible dude ever. I think this sounds ridiculous, asking someone out on a date should involve coming up with the details. Nevertheless I reply with what I hope sounds positive, saying that Saturday would work and what should we do?

Two days later, mid-Friday, I still haven’t heard back. Not interested, definitely, and this time, I’m talking about me.

Modern Day Courting: Dater Beware

In reading through postings from both men and women on Craiglist recently I noticed a substantial number of posts contained "what you should know about me in advance" lists containing a string of bad habits and unflattering self-admissions of impatience, laziness and obsessions with reality television. Where were the “smart, sassy, fun” and “loves movies, music and dancing” lists? The lists of positive and absolutely date-able characteristics? Seems like modern day online courting been reduced to the “why you shouldn’t date me” list instead of the “why you should”.

Miriam Webster defines courtship as the act, process or period of courting, and goes on to define "courting" as follows:
1 a: to seek to gain or achieve b (1): allure, tempt (2): to act so as to invite or provoke
2 a: to seek the affections of; especially: to seek to win a pledge of marriage from b of an animal : to perform actions in order to attract for mating
3 a: to seek to attract (as by solicitous attention or offers of advantages) b: to seek an alliance with

I’ll take my courting heavy on the “allure”, “tempt” and “attract” attributes and light on the “provoke”, thank you very much. Who’s to say, though, what one person finds attractive versus obnoxious?

Often bad habits are just too much of a perfectly normal trait. With the right partner, a self-defined bad habit could actually be a plus on your list of attributes, and not a minus at all. And let’s not forget that openly listing your faults does demonstrate the all-impressive qualities of self-awareness and humility, assuming of course you actually listed your faults.

You have to list something in your online profile, though. Perhaps the key is to highlight your outward personality while exposing a little bit of underside. You want to strike the balance between “awesome boy/girlfriend” attributes with something more sincere, that will show your true self and attract suitors that find your particular blend of self intoxicating.

As definition 3b states, courting is seek[ing] an alliance, you’re looking for someone to be on your side. I guess you just have to decide which side that is.