the social antithesis...

My calendar for the past few weeks, and the current one:

• dinners in with married friends (sometimes with their children)
• dinner out with married friend traveling solo away from his wife & baby
• an incredible double date with my gay boyfriends and my gal-pal e.
• meetings with my new all-female athletic team
• a networking/social dinner with a bunch of female colleauges
• dinner with an ex-boyfriend who is strolling through town
• nights at home watching American Idol and Glee.
  

Gee, why am I not meeting any new single men?   Not that I would trade any of those wonderful evenings... but...

And, since you might ask, no, I have not put myself back into the online dating game.  Yet.  And no sign of Mr. Nice Guy. 

Next steps: makeover, rejigger, by a new outfit, get back out there.

sometimes a girl just needs her Superhero

All I had to do was go to Shabbat services, the big young adult one that attracts 300-400 people once a month.  I was late, with some friends, we took a spot up in the balcony.  About 5 minutes later, some guy comes in, crams himself into my row and just about sits on top of me but ends up just sitting on my coat.

I give him flack.

Fifteen minutes later, he gives me flak for reading ahead in the prayer book (I never know when the silent Amidah ends).  I had to lean over to my friend to ask if he was cute, because he was sitting SO CLOSE.  Turns out he's cute.  The banter continues throughout the service, afterward at the massive social piranha fest they call an oneg shabbat, and then over a drink at a nearby restaurant.  It's the beginning of a great love story.  Except for the part where he is visiting from the opposite coast and leaving for home in less than a week.

He adds me as a Facebook friend on Saturday, then calls -- we make plans to get together Sunday.  Vague plans.

Sunday morning he calls and he start trying to patch our plans together.  It turned into patchwork quilt, truly...  everytime I am free, he is busy; everytime he is free, I am busy.  But we each wanted to see each other, so we did the least obvious thing in the world: we patched our days together and spent the whole day doing each other's things. We both had some off-center sense of adventure and agreed it would be a total disaster or a total blast.

We went to a birthday party, we drove someone to the airport, we watched the moon-rise from an incredible vista when the moon was the closest to us it could get (and got the photos to prove it), and we had a late dinner at a random Thai restaurant that turned out to be amazing and we shut the place down.  We crossed four different bridges five times that day.  And laughed the whole time, had plenty to say to each other and couldn't wait to see each other again.  It was one of those day-into-night dates you never want to end.

So we continued our date that whole week, until he left.  We met each other's friends, spent nights curled up together and enjoyed every second of each other's company until time ran out.  And he left for New York.  We never talked about anything other than the present moment.

I'll pause for a second.  For an entire week, I lived in that moment.  Have you met me?  Do you have any idea how unlikely it is that I could utter a sentence without planning for the next 30 that will come out of my mouth?  How absurd it is that I could something without over-thinking it?  It's like pigs flew.

He has a really adorable name, and it is the kind of name you give a superhero.  And he is a superhero to me.  So he is, and always will be, Superhero.  My sweet, sass-talking, wise-cracking, adorable, witty Jewish Superhero who lives on the wrong coast.

Of course, it's not like he got on a plane and that was the end of the story.  Because, really... what if??  It's not like I could stop thinking about him.  So there's not really an end to the story, per se. 

I suppose the definition of a superhero revolves around the rescue, right? You don't really hear about the superhero who sticks around to make a general nuisance of himself like if he became a stable, live-in boyfriend.  Remember when Clark Kent gave up his powers to be with Lois Lane and got the crap kicked out of him at the diner?  I don't want that to happen. So Superhero he will be.  And I'll let him swoop in and rescue me from time to time.  'Cause sometimes a girl just needs her Superhero and a magical four-bridges, moon-rise date.

what would my profile be?

If I'm going to start dating again, I will probably go back online.  My friends don't fix me up, and most of my "free" time is spent running or biking or swimming.  I did join a tri club, but it's all women... Last night, a lovely Saturday night, I had people over for dinner and begged out of going to a big Haiti fundraiser afterwards that would have been really fun & interesting & surrounded me with lots of new people.  So, you see, I'm not meeting people "out" or through friends.  Occasionally I do speed-dating, I might try a meet-up, but I'm probably headed back on-line.  Does that make me an armchair quarterback of dating?  Or a lazy slug on the sofa who can poo-poo guys via my laptop with re-runs of Glee playing in the background?

I have profile.  While it isn't totally generic sounding, it has been a year or so and it might be time to freshen it up a little bit.  So I was thinking about what I could say about myself that might draw a little more attention...  What would my profile say if I wrote it this morning?  Here's the list I'm starting with:

• I'm truly energetic while totally over-committed! So really, I'm just tired by the time I see you.  And I can't have caffeine.  Oh lord help you if you give me too much caffeine.
• In a few weeks I'll be officially "unemployed" -- but don't worry, I'm not looking for a sugar daddy.  Maybe I should be, but I'm too independent for that.  "Unemployed" because, well, I won't be sitting still.
  
• I love to cook, but don't share my kitchen...  until it's time to do the dishes at which point the kitchen is yours.  That's partnership, right?
• Movies, movies, movies... I hardly ever see them.  It makes me an oddity, and is one of the few subjects (going to see movies) that makes me sound older than I really am.
• Yes, I really do triathlons.  Yes, I workout like that and still carry 10 extra pounds.  I love to eat.  The 10 pounds aren't going anywhere anytime soon.
• A guitar sits, dusty, in my living room.  If I really want you to like me, I will practice and try to play for you.  It's been a long time since I wanted someone to like me that much, so I apologize for your bleeding ears now.
• The photographs on the walls are mostly mine.  Proof that I have a hobby!
• I don't have cable or satellite or anything fancy like that, but I do have a media computer hooked up to my HDTV. 
• Car?  Who needs one!  I walk, take public transit, and use that fancy Zipcar when I need to.    It's not because I can't afford it, or because of my staunch environmentalism -- I just don't want to care for a car, and seem to get around just fine without owning one.  it's lovely.
• Worms live on my deck.  And eat my compostables. OK, maybe I am a bit of environmentalist.  Or I'm kind of fascinated by worms.  I desperately want to grow a vegetable garden on my deck, but sadly only the worms like the amount of shade my deck gets.
• In general, I get fascinated by the littlest things. Science museums for kids are an incredible place to take me.  I go stargazing even though I know nothing about the constellations.  I actually do make a point of watching sunsets, and have a vista point where I go regularly to do so. 
• I chose following my heart over making a lot of money in high tech.  I struggle with it, but wouldn't change my mind for a million years.
  
• Jewish matters.  I may not make it to temple all the time, but Jewish defines me.  That does not mean I'm turning into a Jewish mother, or am some kind of Jewish American Princess.  I'll go backpacking, volunteer for Habitat in New Orleans post-Katrina and only make laughable attempts at guilt trips.  I mean I care about the cultural/holidays/etc.
  
• My friends don't think I have baggage, or any more than you do.  I suppose they would lie just to make me feel better, but they never have so I don't know why they would start now.  And yes, you do  have to pass muster with my friends.  And family.  Sorry, but they've been around long enough to earn the right to an opinion.  And I love spending time with them...  It's like the HIMYM porch test.
• We haven't even made it to the wineaux, traveler, do-I-want-kids part of things yet, and I'm tired of reading about me!
• Lest I forget... I'm a bit of a story teller. 
  

While this is all fine & dandy, I'm not sure that an on-line profile it makes.  But then again, don't the guys only look at the pictures anyway?  Time to make buddies with a photographer who can make my extra 10 pounds look as sexy as I think they are.   Oh, and then I have to come up with a "screen name" that sounds catchy and inventive in 15 characters or less, no spaces. 

And maybe trim the above down to "single, attractive women likes watching sunsets and sipping wine - seeks single man to do the same." 

it's a small world after all

Tonight I was supposed to catch up with a friend of mine, but since he had to cancel I'll spend my evening telling the story of how we met.

I've already confessed to using jdate as a way to meet men. Not that there's much to be ashamed of, really. But I met this guy on jdate back in 2006, not long after my split from Grumpy Pants.

I read this guy's profile once - it was quirky. So were his emails, full of puns and snark and witticisms. We emailed back and forth a few times, right around my annual pilgrimage to my hometown for Thanksgiving. I mentioned to Witty that I was headed homeward, and something about my dad growing up in nearby Little-Big-Town. Witty mentioned that he had family from Little-Big-Town,too.

In great disregard of jdate etiquette, I asked him his last name. And in the name of curiousity, he obliged. Since I was at my dad's place, I just yelled out from the den to the kitchen "Hey Dad! Ever heard of the McWitterson's or the McWitty's from Little-Big-Town?"

Dad actually stopped what he was doing, came into the den and looked at me for a while before he answered. "As in B__ McWitterson McWitty? The wife of D__ McWitty? I've been friends with D__ since I was 10. I went to B__'s funeral 2 days after your mom's funeral. Yeah, I know the McWitterson's and the McWitty's."

Oh dear. The world is feeling very small. So then Dad asks what brings up the families... and I oblige with my jdate connection to Witty.

"Oh, Witty McWitty? That's Z__ McWitty's grandson, and he must be named for his great uncle Witty McWitty. He used to work for a sports franchise up there in his hometown. His uncle P__ McWitty was a bigwig for the pro football team there."

Or something like that. I was a little too stunned to remember the family story exactly right. But the part where my dad has been friends with Witty's uncle for over 60 years - still very true.

So how exactly should I tell Witty about this? Very, very carefully. Men do not like to feel stalked, and can be easily overwhelmed with professions like "Oh my god! I know everything about you!"  To be fair, if I guy said that to me - I'd run. Fast.

I started (in online chat) with "um" I think. And then dove in with the whole "yup, my dad just rattled off your whole family tree" bit. Lucky for me, he did not freak out.  He was equally fascinated by the connection. We agreed off the bat that since the world was such a small place, we'd end up being friends no matter what. Kizmet, ya know.

We went out a few times, but the hitch for me was that Witty was just recently separate and I wasn't ready for a man who wasn't divorced yet.

And after 3 and some, years we've both kept our promise.  We've counseled each other on work, life in general, politics, even dating - somehow I think we figure that the Little-Big-Town connection makes us responsible for each other. Or family. Or something. 

the path unexpected

I suppose not every post can be funny. If you need funny, I can tell you the story about a magician.  In the meantime, J-Red got me feeling introspective and I wanted to share.  We got to talking over our pedicures on Monday, and she didn't mess around -- she went straight for the jugular about my life, love and otherwise.

She got me talking about the biggest change in my dating perspective in the last couple of years. After mourning so many losses -- including my mother, my relationship with Grumpy Pants, the apartment fire -- I realized that I will never have the life I always assumed I would have. Ya know, the one with a husband, two kids, a decent house... where things swim along and life is some normal space between Roseanne and Cosby.

Don't get me wrong, my life is wonderful in many ways! And I've made some very conscious choices that might have derailed the "dream" yet have benefited me in ways beyond what I would have hoped for. I would chose all over again just the same. I can simultaneously appreciate and enjoy what I have, but recognize that the paradigm of what I thought my life would be for years and years is, well, dead.

The life I thought I would have now isn't what I have now, nor will it ever be... and so I feel a bit unhinged. In part, I want to give myself permission to mourn -- almost in a Langston Hughes/Dream Deferred kind of way. Maybe kids aren't in my future. Maybe the kind of husband (some uncomplicated NJB who loves to be outdoors) I was searching for isn't what will be right for me in the coming years. Maybe I will take more solo adventures again.

After I'm done mourning, I plan to celebrate. If all the rules and expectations are gone, maybe I will start exploring and seeing new ways to find love in my life. That unexpected stuff, the kind of things I see when I'm just taking the world in, as opposed to narrowing my vision to something specific.

The path unexpected has always been my favorite route.  I doubt this time of my life is any different!

harumph

Whatever happened to Mr. Nice Guy?  I've been asking myself the same thing.  I suppose it's kind of like the Cowboys at today's playoff game versus the Vikings - he never actually showed up to the game!

OK, I wasn't going to say that.  One friend recently chided me about sounding a bit bitter in my post about Red/the latter... but another friend heard me say this comment about Mr. Nice Guy today and he thought was pretty funny (not bitter).  So it bears repeating.

In actuality, I'm not sure what to make of Mr. Nice Guy.  I really would like to see him again, but then again I would also like for him to make a motion in my direction.  I suspect that if he were interested, he would let me know.

But I'll take my time.  Right now, I have a few professional/life things to sort out.  And honestly (in the most positive, not bitter way I can say this), I just don't have time for the odds & ends that come with trying to date someone who isn't fun and easy to date.  So I've stopped looking for a bit.

I'll say it again: I've stopped looking for a bit. 

Yes, really.

Don't look at me like that.

But if Mr. Nice Guy calls, all bets are off...

girlfriends...

In the world of trying to meet men, sometimes you meet princes and sometimes frogs.  And sometimes you meet other princesses.  And that is a wonderful thing.

Tomorrow, I get to hang out with one of my best girlfriends, J-Red.  We've been friends for over 10 years now - and this is the story of how we met.

Back in the late 90's, speed-dating was still a thing that people whispered about, wondered about and read New York Time's articles about.  I had just moved to a new city, and wanted to throw myself out into the scene.  So I found my local Jewish speed-dating event, in a part of the city I didn't know well, showed up to the Jewish Community Center at the appropriate time and found a handful of people standing in the darkened JCC wandering where the hell the event was.

You see, the event organizer from the JCC had neglected to give us the location of the event, and we had all assumed it was at the JCC. 

Five people stood around, shrugged their shoulders, looked at the ground and prepared to head out, defeated.  Two people whipped out their cell phones, started making calls and got to business.  Those two people - J-Red and I - gave each other the acknowledging nod, coordinated a game plan, conferred, then went out to the neighborhood in search of the event.  And found it.

By the time we arrived at the local coffee shop hosting the event, I knew I'd made a new friend.  I wasn't even worried about asking her for her phone number. 

The organizers tried to give us a hard time, as they'd achieved the desired equilibrium of men & women, and we would disrupt that.  J-Red and I were not worried about equilibrium, and made that clear.  We couldn't have presented a more united front to the girl at the registration desk if we'd planned it -- she didn't stand a chance against us!  You want us to come back?  You want us to give you good word of mouth?  You'll let us in. 

Somehow, during the breaks of the evening and conferring over David #9, we swapped phone numbers and promised to keep in touch. Magically, we did.  The last ten years of friendship with J-Red brought LOTS of adventures (including a de-pantsing episode one Christmas Eve that forever convinced a man we were an evil, evil duo), and ultimately a wonderful husband and 2 gorgeous children to J-Red.  I wouldn't trade my friendship J-Red for any of the guys I met that night.  I'll remind her of that over our mani/pedi excursion tomorrow.

perverted logic

After my last post, I was toying with the idea of making friends with this cuckolded bunch of women.  And so I've had a few more exchanged emails with both.

Then the bomb got dropped... the "latter" is still seeing him. She'd "rather be with a dick than alone."  I assume she meant a jerk, but I think the idea that getting laid on a regular basis is nice probably goes with her preference.

Which makes me wonder - who is the better woman here?  The latter, who keeps a man around and isn't "alone," or me, who prefers who friends and BOB and self-respect?  (For those not in the know, BOB stands for battery operated boyfriend.)   And let me please clarify, Red is a scientist in all respects: he keeps modifying an experiment until he gets the appropriate result, and once he does -- continues to repeat the same steps that once got him the right result.  And sex, like anything else, is handled scientifically.  

Right now, I've got so much in my life I actually find dating to be a bit of a bother.  If a guy is going to be fun, then WONDERFUL!  Let's hang out, add more positive energy to my life! Yes!  But why would I waste energy on someone who is a jerk, makes me wonder if I'm settling, or worse yet - degrade whatever self respect I've got left?

This is a retraction, I'm sorry, latter lady.  You can have Red.  You get the treatment from a guy you let him give you.  I may be alone a lot of the time, but at least the guys I choose to date actually treat me pretty well.  Red was never a jerk directly to me, in fact no guy has ever been a jerk to me for more than a minute.  Fool me once, shame on you -- and all that jazz.

I wonder, seriously: I should fix her up with Newfie?? He's damaged goods, but still a sweetheart.  Should I take responsibility for fixing her lost faith in the goodness of mankind?  I can't shake it from my head that I'd be involved in this weird quadrangle with two of my exes, and a woman I've never met. 

I should probably add to the list of reasons I'm still alone: I'd rather be alone than with someone who doesn't excite me and make me happy.

Maybe the latter getting laid more often, but I suspect I have a better world view on men, I've got a little more self respect and am generally a bit happier.  And at least BOB knows how to try new things.

Is this how I want to make friends?

Today I got an invitation to grab a drink with a really interesting woman I haven't yet met in person - she works in environmental policy, has master's degree, is on the outdoorsy side, works out her angst by taking up indoor rock climbing, loves hanging out with her teenage niece, and from what I can tell is one of the most loyal, forthright women in my neck of the woods.  Add to that we have some mutual professional connections and work around the corner from each other.

I was thinking I also might invite this other cool woman I haven't yet met in person - she returned to school in her late 30's to get a degree in science, and last time she got sick of her job she packed it up and traveled all around Southeast Asia for 6 months.  She wrote a pretty cool blog all about it.

Both these women are very attractive, accomplished, educated...  ya know, the kinda ladies I would hang out with.  Except, I'm not sure this is how I want to make new friends.

You might wonder how they came into my email acquaintance: they both emailed me because they were also sleeping with/dating the guy I thought I was sleeping with/dating exclusively

Red is not what you are thinking (the color of his hair, and the color I see when I think of him).  He comes across as a geeky science nerd, a somewhat introverted high school teacher.  I don't think he's a "player" in the traditional sense.  Rather, he's pathological and insecure.  Travelpro is going to approach for how to have so much baggage appear so minimal.  I did learn the very important lesson: never date a man who has no local friends, and if he doesn't introduce you to any friends in the first month or so -- run like hell.

Here's what I can figure out: there was not a single point in the time I was dating Red that I was the only one.  It's not that I didn't give Red the out.  He nearly dumped me twice and I hardly begged him for forgiveness.

Here were the last two arguments I had with Red (and yes, I really said this stuff... but the dialogue is a bit truncated):

3 weeks before break-up

• Red: "I think you like me more than I like you."
• Me: "I'll let you know when that's a problem for me."
• Red: "But you like me more than I like you."
• Me: "Are you done?  If so, that's fine... "
• Red: "No, I'm not done, I really like you."

2 weeks before break-up

• Red: "I think you want to spend more time with me than I want to spend with you."
  
• Me: "Are you done?  Because this is bullshit and I don't have time for it."
• Red: "I need time for myself."
• Me: "Have you ever asked for any that I haven't given you?  And by the way, the reason I always encourage you to do your weekly trivia night without me is because I need my time."
• Red: "Oh."
• Me: "So are you done with this relationship?"
• Red: "No, I want to be with you."
  

Then Red and I went on a fabulous camping trip... and he dumped me right after we got back.  

• Red: "I didn't fall in love with you, and I should have by now."
• Me: "I think you were in love with me, you just don't know what love is.  So how long have you been dating someone else?"
• Red" "There isn't anyone else."
  

To his credit, he really should have fallen in love with me by then.  That he ended it before I fell any further (and yes, I was quite deluded and taken) was to his lying, cheating credit.

So now I have made the virtual acquaintance of these two women. 

The former emailed me after I'd been dating Red for a few of months.  She'd spotted us out one fine Sunday, and dumped him later that day.  When she realized I was still dating him a month later, she knew he hadn't told me.  Through the magic of Facebook, she found me and sent me a long note.

The latter knew about me early on, but took a short while to see through Red's lies and realized that I actually didn't know about her.  She emailed me once she realized he was lying - I initially shied away from communication.

But last week, Red's profile showed up on jdate as a "featured profile" for me on the one time in the last year I've bothered to log in and see if there are any new faces for me (there aren't).  So I finally replied to "the latter" in case she was still dating him -- this was too much.  And I thanked her for reaching out... it sparked a pleasant bit of exchange.

Then I decided to apologize to the former, for unwittingly hurting her. I had never responded to her emails of nearly 6 months ago.  She was so grateful that I had acknowledged her and apologized - she told me it helped make her 2010 start better just to have heard from me.


OK, we have something in common -- and I know that they are the kind of women who look out for others.  What would drinks with them be like?  So, when did you first know he was a lying, cheating jerk?  Have you stayed really bitter about men ever since?  Maybe I can find another geeky science teacher for you who loves to cook.  Shall we learn knitting together, or maybe hit a single's bar?  I'll have to think a bit longer if this is how a new couple of friendships start.

A message from my grandmother

Just a little voicemail from my grandmother a while back, just before I turned 30.  I don't think she called just to talk!

--------------------

Hi _____, it’s your grandma.  I’m sorry I missed you.  I called to see how you were and just to talk. 

And also to tell you I heard about this book on television, that you might be interested in.  It’s not exactly the right age for you but anyhow, it says… I think the name of it is “How to Find a Husband After 35” or “Finding a Husband After 35” -- something like that and it’s by Rachel somebody, and she gave like seven different things to do.  But the only two that really hit a bell with me were that you should have an organized approach, that you should look for a husband just like you look for a job.  And secondly, you shouldn’t complain.  Never complain. And don’t ask income.  Those are the three things I remember.   Oh, and it said something about your appearance and stuff like that.  But anyhow those are the three things that really struck me. And the main two, were don’t complain, and organized approach. 

OK, babe, just a thought.  I’ll talk to you another time.  I hope all is well.  Bye bye.

--------------------

The funniest part of the story is that she left the same message a second time, thinking that it didn't "take" the first time.  The second message was almost exactly the same as the first... I think she had a script!

I'd love to pretend that I just laughed this off, and ignored the advice.  I really don't focus energy on finding a man like I would finding a job.  But I do try to avoid complaining...  Who wants to be around someone who is dissatisfied with their life?  

My grandmother (in her early 90's) gives me advice all the time.   It used to drive me nuts, but I hate to admit (now) that some of the advice is kind of useful.

The worst advice she ever gave me: "never let a man think you are smarter than he is."  Probably I thought it was bad advice because I assumed she meant "never let a man think you are smart."    

The best advice, which took me years to master:  "ask a man about himself and stop talking about yourself."  The reason is took me years to master?  It took me a long time to figure out that I should date men who I found really interesting, so much so that I WANT to ask them about themselves rather than do the talking. 


Did I say I mastered that one?  Well, not quite... but at least I know the secret! Date more interesting men.

And P.S.  Don't tell Grandma I started listening to her advice. 

rhymes with slurpee

Every once in a while, I meet someone who just takes me by surprise.  Like Slurpee.  We met through mutual friends back in 1999, and the wooing began with that caustic, fiery banter that seems like hate but is usually rooted in some sort of denied attraction.

I denied it for a very long time.  Months.

But Slurpee kind of grew on me, in a fungal sort of way.  At first I thought I could ignore him, and then before I knew it he was just everywhere.  Except, not like fungus, I kind of enjoyed having Slurpee around.  He lived near me, we found ourselves going to dinner together in the neighborhood, doing the occasional hike together.  You know, dating.

Slurpee taught me a few things... you see, Slurpee had a bit of a deformity.  He was missing most of one arm as a result of a birth defect. At first I thought I needed to open doors for him or help him carry things - but I quickly got over that.  I would grow impatient if he didn't get his butt in gear and open doors for me or carry my stuff.  Slurpee  was completely adapted, and really put me in my place about how he handled this.  He didn't see that he was any different and neither should I.  If he needed help, he'd ask.  He never asked, so I don't think he ever needed help.

He was also probably one of the first guys to tell me to shut up so he could do something nice for me. He got me to the point that I realized I deserved (and therefore expected) a man to do those little nice things for me.  It was more than being considerate or respectful -- it was about liking someone and enjoying doing the little stuff.  Imagine that.

As things progressed with Slurpee and it looked like we were heading into one of them new-fangled exclusive and romantic relationships, he actually began to pull away.  And I was confused.  I thought as a rule that as things progressed, things... ummm... progressed.

Finally, ever the adult in my late 20's, I asked Slurpee "what gives?"  I'd like to say I said something more thoughtful than that, but I don't think I did.

As it turns out, Slurpee was dumping me.  You see, he has thing thing that rhymes with Slurpees.  And he didn't want to give it to me, so he figured it would be better to break things off before we went too far physically or emotionally.

Over the years, I've often wondered about Slurpee.  He stands out as one of those guys that really got under my skin in the right kind of way.  He pretty much dropped out of touch - I think he left the state for a while because of work, then maybe moved back.  I think he was in a long-term relationship with someone at some point, but I'm not sure.  I lost touch with our mutual friends as well, just through various life changes and moves and such.

It makes me wonder if he had some unresolved feelings for me, too?  And maybe being in touch was uncomfortable?

And I think of all the jerks out there who never get tested, don't know, spread their little STDs willy nilly (pun intended)...  In the last 5 or 6 years, I haven't sleep around (much), but I also don't find myself asking "have you been tested" like I used to (and probably should).  I absolutely make sure the boys keep the package gift-wrapped until marriage, and that protects me mostly...  but not totally.  But I think of I guys I liked so much less who would have unknowingly infected me -- versus someone I really cared about, and saw a future with, who assumed it would be best if he kept his disease to himself.

Mostly, I wish Slurpee had let me make the choice.  I'm not sure 10 years ago what I would have decided, it wouldn't have been easy. 

I asked him out.

I did it. I asked out Mr. Nice Guy. 

Via Facebook.  While I knew he was offline, at a meeting on the other side of the country on a business trip.  This is worse than the text message date ask, and I complain about that all the time.

Go ahead, call me a chicken.  T already did.  It took me 3 days of talking about asking him out to come up with "So, are you going to this big Jewish event that everyone else is going to, because you are on that list of 400 people on Facebook that were invited, that you haven't responded to (because I stalked you and checked), and that's during NFL playoffs?  Cuz if you happen to be going, maybe you'll see me there and then I can smile at you and you can think about maybe eating after since it ends at 8, and maybe since I'll also be there and hungry -- we can go together!"

So the email didn't EXACTLY say that.  But it might as well have.

Maybe I'm no better than when I was a teenager.  I remember one of my first attempts to get a guy to pay attention to me.  I was out with a few friends, I think there were wine coolers involved.  This was the late 80's, when it didn't seem so odd to stop in a park on a Saturday where other 16-somethings were drinking illegally-purchased booze.  After my 2nd wine cooler, I stood up and slurred out loud "I wonder who's the best kisser here."  I highly doubt the guy who kissed me was the best kisser, but he was the one who realized he might get to 1st or 2nd base with a drunk girl. (Luckily, in the late 80's, those stories end innocently enough!)

Of course then I was just looking for any guy to pay attention to me.  These days I'm a little more particular.

So the email to Mr. Nice Guy actually said something along the lines of this: "Any chance you are going to the event on Sunday? If so, would you be interested in grabbing dinner afterwards?" 

This way, I can assume his rejection is because he isn't going to the event.

But maybe, just maybe, I didn't misinterpret him lightly touching my leg the other day.  Maybe, just maybe, he's kinda chicken, too. 

I am not insane... and other reasons to break a man's heart.

This past Wednesday, I stayed home sick from work.  And actually was sick.  Still am - it's making me cranky and judgmental and all that good stuff.  (Though no one likes to be sick over New Year's Eve.) But all the cranky stuff made me very impatient and clear about my feelings for Newfie.

My original plan was to spend Wednesday goofing off with Newfie, trying to re-inject a little fun into things and get away from the intense "I'm so into you" stuff he's got going on so I could give this relationship a fair chance.  Given that my compromised health, we just went to lunch. We talked some about his potential move to a new city for a new job, and a bit about New Year's Eve (which we were not spending together).  Two things became clear.  1) In the two years he has lived here, he hasn't made any close friends - and certainly none close enough that he had anyone to spend New Year's Eve with.  2) He felt like this one job opportunity was his last chance to get out of his current situation, and said it in such a sad, tormented way.

Soon, I'll tell the story of Grumpy Pants - the man I was with for three years.  Thinking about Newfie brings me back to stories about Grumpy Pants and why our relationship didn't survive.  In particular, Grumpy Pants relied on me for social interaction - he didn't reach out, make friends, engage the world around him.  At first it seemed OK because he enjoyed my friends, and I surround myself with friends-who-are-family and love spending time with him.  But over time, his isolationist tendency became a weight -- not just that I was enough for him, but that he didn't want anyone else around.  I was the focus of his world, and damn near all of it outside of work.  He was the most important part of mine, but I had so many other things going on... 

And maybe that would have been OK, but Grumpy Pants was also down on the world, because he figured the world was down on him.  This, I'm sure, is a large reason he didn't have much social gusto.  I, on the other hand, am resilient and positive about the world.  This is not because I'm naive.  On the contrary, life has handed me some rather unpleasant cards -- but that's life, and I choose to enjoy it as best I can because that's what makes the rough parts easier to survive.  And while I'm pretty sunny, I can't make sun shine for someone else.   

Of course, the definition of insanity is repeating the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. 

I am not insane.  I cannot be Newfie's whole world and the sun that shines on it nor more than I could for Grumpy Pants.  Besides, complete devotion is lovely in a dog...  a sweet dog relies on you for everything, and its complete devotion to a master is inspiring and adorable.  But that is only endearing in a dog, not a man.  And maybe I doomed this from the beginning by seeing him as Newfie.  The danger of the nickname - it can be self-fulfilling.

So tonight, I played the part of the horrible woman who dashes a wonderful man's hopes and dreams.  I won't make fun of this... Newfie is a sweetheart of guy, just not the sweetheart for me.

The roughest part of the break-up is that no matter what I say, no matter who kind I try to be, I will always be the jerk in his memory.  I tried to tell him how wonderful he is, but that I'm not looking to be someone's whole world -- and that he deserves someone who wants to be his whole world and wants that from him.

His response: "Clearly I'm not wonderful, if this is what's happening." 

But really, he is a wonderful man.  If only he could believe it in himself, he'd be fighting women off with a stick.  I wish you luck and all good things, Newfie. 

As for me, not to worry...  I've still got my crush on Mr. Nice Guy, and I'm acting like a high school girl trying to get someone else to let him know I like him and conjuring up another way to see him by using our mutual friends. Rather than, you know, just asking him out. 

And, ever the "defensive dater," I had another "eHarm" first date today with a guy I'll dub Trumpet (he plays).  If nothing else, I will have more stories to tell!

my favorite pick up & break up

I find it pretty amusing that my favorite pick-up line (used on me) and the best break-up line I've ever used both go to the same guy: Aw Shucks.

Aw Shucks is just one of those guys who seems simple and sweet, kind of a frat boy but whose Midwestern charm and aw-shucks/who-me? smile gets him out of trouble all the time.  We were at a fundraiser dinner back in 2008.  I was on the event committee with a friend of his, and we were all at the same (rowdy) dinner table.  After dinner, we all went to the 2nd part of the fundraiser, listening to a fun band that played a lot of latin-infused, very dance-able music.  So I was D-A-N-C-I-N-G.  Aw Shucks, as you might predict for a sweet Midwestern frat boy, was not much of a dancer.  But he tried anyway, because he was trying to get to know me!  It was sweet in that (go figure) aw-shucks kind of way.

As I got ready to leave, he made his move:  "If I invited you to dinner, and it didn't involve dancing at all, would you still go out with me?"  Awwww...  how could any girl turn that down?  I think that has to be my favorite pick-up line of all time.  He took my number and called the next day.  Such a sweetie.

We dated for a handful of weeks.  He was sweet, kinda sexy when he wanted to be.  A gentleman at all the right times, and not a gentleman at all the right times.  We had a good time, but it was apparent pretty soon that the "relationship" wasn't going anywhere.  As I learned from Joe College, just because we are two nice people doesn't mean we should be stay together if it just ain't there.

After thinking about it for a while, I knew what I needed to say to him...  over beer, of course. And I said to Aw Shucks my best break-up line ever: "There was a point at which I realized I really wanted to find a friend to fix you up with - but it was a little too late for that." 

He smiled that adorable aw-shucks smile of his, even though he knew I was breaking things off.  Turns out, he felt more or less the same way.  But I think that is the first and only time I've managed to break-up with a guy and have him find it almost a compliment.  It helps that I meant it sincerely. 

Of course, I'm not sure that I should brag about being good at breaking-up.  But I do want to be remembered as considerate and all.