Moment of Truth

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.

Please Stop Saying That.

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!

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

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?

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.

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 Have Blind Date For You

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.