Love

So, love. I'm certainly no expert, but after reading articles in O by people who have a heck of a lot more experience than me, I realized that many of their lessons are my lessons, too. We all have similar experiences in learning to love and trust ourselves, as well as others. In each article I read there was always at least one point that resonated with me, so my hope is to put them all together in telling my story.

Often I think of myself as a "late bloomer" in both life and love. It's taken me a long time to come into my own as a person, and so it's probably not surprising that this is true in my romantic world as well. From my mid-teens to my mid-twenties I had one defining relationship with a lovely man who, simply put, absolutely adored me. I was incredibly lucky, because at that time I was a messy person to love, but he truly saw me for who I was and liked me anyway. He even found the majority of my faults adorable, and now I understand how rare and special it is to find someone who will love you that completely.

For most of our 10 year relationship, we were very much in love. Unsure of who I was, and low in self-esteem then, I recognize now that mine was a need-based love. I relied on him to provide me with definition I craved, the reassurance and confidence I couldn't yet give myself, and strength when I couldn't cope. Need and love are not a delicious combination. Over the years, we grew up, and grew apart, together. We made a lot of mistakes. And, in the end, I think we both knew that no matter how much we loved each other, and were a blessing in each other's lives, we weren't right for a long-term partnership. We both needed to continue to grow and grow up, finding ourselves separately in the process.

Our break-up was long and often torturous, with tons of back and forth, neither of us quite sure we were done, until we were done. I have so many great memories with him, and I will always love him and the role he has played in my life. We are still friends, although more distant by necessity, but it's comforting to know that we still care for and respect each other. There is no question in my mind that our ending was absolutely the best decision for both of us. I wish him great happiness, and my hope is that he finds the right person to love him better and more fully than I could.

The other day, a man I cared about a lot over the last year, who is now practically a stranger (I will never get over the weirdness of being pretty close to someone one minute and then, after a series of actions/events, dunzo the next), asked our table at a work lunch what we think is the perfect age to be, if you had to choose a stopping point. Keeping my story above in mind, I chose right around 30. My teens are out for the god-awful awkward factor. My 20s were tumultuous. At 30, I'm still young, but after lots of self-reflections, painful but necessary periods of growth, a-ha moments of clarity, and, well, a short stint in therapy, I finally feel like I truly know and like who I am. It's a good place to be. I am clear on my wants and needs, and I'm unapologetic in asking for them. I like who I am on my own, and I don't rely on anyone else to define my self-worth. This means that while I still have a strong desire for love and connection, I'm no longer driven by a need for it. My wholeness doesn't depend on the love of another. I may get lonely at times and mull over what I want that I don't have, but I am also certain that, if I live out the rest of my days single, I will have a rich and fulfilling life. I just truly want to have a loving relationship and a partner in crime. That will always be my preference.

Dating since my one big break-up has been a roller coaster of an experience. You've read about some of that here. While full of beautiful possibility, the mating game is also fraught with the dangers of disappointment, rejection, and hurt. Opening yourself up to emotional vulnerability and closeness can be frightening. It's a process that I often find foreign, dicey, and counter-intuitive. Perhaps that's due to my lack of experience, or maybe everyone feels that way. I don't know. I've made mistakes, and I'm learning. I know that I will keep on trying.

I want to share what I've learned with you. Many of these things came up in the articles I read, and I kept thinking, "Yes, this is on my list, too!" So, here you get Megan's Dating Tips. I'm sure I'll add more and change things after I post it, so feel free to check back for updates. :)

1. Above all else, know and love yourself. This is the only way to find a partner who matches you. This is the only way for you to truly have something to offer another person. Knowing yourself can take some time. It took me years to figure out that while tall, dark, and handsome is nice, there are a lot of deeper qualities that are much higher up on my list. Wanting those qualities is always right, even if the person you're with tries to convince you otherwise. Finally I realized that it's ok that I'm a person who craves emotional intimacy and closeness. It's not for everyone, but I trust there are others out there who want the same thing. In fact, I know there are since it exists in my friendships. I like my independence, too. Both can exist, so I'm looking for interdependence rather than codependence or distance. I also like consistency, reliability, confidence, respect, a good sense of humor, honesty, etc., and I now know what I need to be happy. Be clear on this.

Find out what's right for you and stay true to it. It's totally fine to desire lighter relationships, or marriage, or a deep commitment that doesn't involve marriage, but do your best to know what you want and what you're capable of having at this point. Respect that and act authentically in your relationships with people. Be emotionally healthy so you can attract other healthy people to you.

2. In dating, always pay attention to what a person does over what he says. Actions do speak louder than words and reveal the truth. I have found this to be right every time. Randy Pausch brought this up as his one big piece of advice for his little daughter when she starts dating, and I loved it. I couldn't agree more. A person may be really good at explaining why he wasn't there for you, why he couldn't be available, or why some other priority is more important. Sure, sometimes things come up, but if this is consistently the case, accept that this person isn't really there, and either live with it or move on. He may be good with words, but ultimately words mean very little if they are not backed up with action. The reality is that being low on the list of someone you really care about is demoralizing and will erode your self-esteem. If it seems like he doesn't care, it either means he doesn't, or he is not self-aware enough to realize his actions. You owe yourself more.

This is true for yourself, too. For a long time, I think I was good at saying that I wanted to find a real, healthy relationship, but my behavior didn't match the noises I was making. I still have to be mindful of that and check-in with myself to make sure that I'm not inadvertently allowing fear (or another lovely shadow emotion) to sabotage my intentions.

Of course, if you are with someone who is totally there for you, pays attention to your needs, and makes it clear that you are a priority, enjoy and appreciate that. That's the dream! It can make almost any other little imperfection easy to accept.

3. Know what you want/need and be brave in asking for it. We are all worthy of love, respect, and mindful treatment. If someone can't give you these things, or you can't give them what they need, it's better to find this out sooner rather than later. I'm not talking about first date interrogations here, peeps. I'm saying that if you've been seeing someone for a while and something feels off, or your needs aren't being met, bring it up now. Don't keep quiet. Even if it's disappointing or hurtful to you if you don't get the answer you want, you will hopefully feel better knowing you have all the information to make a decision about how to move forward. I loved in the final episode of Sex and the City the part where Carrie tells the artist she's ending her relationship with that, "I'm looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can't-live-without-each-other love." It just seemed like such a self-revealing and honest thing to divulge.

4. Pay attention. Focus on the reality of the situation. Try to avoid getting caught up in what you wish was happening. Or, don't create problems where none exists. This is a toughie. It's really easy to get wrapped up in your emotions, hopes, and wants that you lose perspective on what's really going on. Often this leads to people staying in situations longer than they should. On the other hand, I think it's dangerous to assume that because things went wrong in a previous relationship, or you were treated in a way you didn't like, that it will happen with every new person. It most likely won't, unless you have a pattern of choosing the same kind of partner over and over again, but it's not fair to you or the other person to go into a new situation with that expectation. You aren't his ex. He isn't yours. Well, not yet anyway. Heh.

5. It's not your job to *fix* anyone. If you're approaching dating in good emotional health, it's reasonable to expect emotional integrity from the person you're seeing. Don't ignore signs that something is amiss, and don't make it your mission to "fix" someone who has issues. Yeah right. It's great to be supportive when someone you care about is going through difficulties, but I'm talking about situations where it becomes clear that a person has deep-rooted baggage, psychological or addiction problems, or even perhaps a personality disorder, and doesn't appear to notice or see a need for change. Ugh. Real change is only going to come from themselves when they're ready, if that ever happens. You can't hold your breath waiting for it. I know for myself that even when I get that I can't fix someone, I often want to understand what's going on, and I want the other person to understand me. I can get very focused on that, which does me no good. It's not a realistic goal, and I've found that I had to release my need for either of those things. If someone doesn't know himself very well, or has serious problems that only a therapist can help with, there's no chance that he's going to be able to get you. And, whether intentional or not, people struggling with themselves can be hurtful to others. They are often so self-focused that they have nothing to give to anyone else.

6. Sometimes letting go is the best option. Along the lines above, I now know that it's possible to love someone very much with the understanding that person isn't right, healthy, or available to you--at least not now and perhaps never. Love isn't black and white, and caring isn't turned on and off with the flip of a switch. At least not for me. But, in honoring your own truth, and seeing circumstances for what they are, sometimes letting go with grace is the healthiest and best option for both of you.

7. Always notice the love in your life every day. Sometimes it's easy to get wrapped up in thinking about what we don't have, whether it's the right relationship, job, place to live, etc. As a single person, I find that I tend to do that when frustrated or lonely. I don't have a boyfriend! No one loves me! I have to do everything on my own! I might be alone forever! Poor me! Blahbitty-blah-blah.

My new way of coping with that is to remind myself of all the people in my world who I love and who love me in any capacity. Romantic love isn't the only way. This point was brought home when my belongings were stolen in Israel. Nearly every single person in my life offered me support and/or financial help. It was amazing to see all the people who genuinely cared and who jumped into action to make that better. I was overwhelmed by the generosity, and I felt overwhelmingly loved. None of those people were a boyfriend. Some didn't even know me all that well. But, through a scary and troubling loss, I realized that caring is all around me when I look.

8. Always choose love. Choose to give more love. Accept love when it's offered to you. Open your heart and take a risk. See the people you know in a positive light. Understand that not everyone you meet is going to love you, and that's ok. Choose to believe that love is always possible. Even if it doesn't lead to you finding the person of your dreams immediately, I find that choosing love makes life a whole lot better.

OK, that's it for now.

New Super Guest Blogger!

And this time it's A MAN. :) I figured my good, loyal readers could use another perspective on the old blog, and one of my friends graciously agreed to share some of his thoughts/stories on dating/single life. He is hilarious, of course, although nameless at the moment. Enjoy!

I have a lot more to say about the trip, like how I climbed freakin Masada with the group around 10am this morning in 105 degree temperatures. Let me tell you that it wasn't pretty for Megan R. More than once I thought I was going to pass out or throw up, but I made it. I made it. And, it was pretty cool once we got up there. If you don't know the story of Masada, check out my link below to the Wikipedia page.

I have to tell you about the visit to the foreign ministry and Israel's attempts to "brand" itself, too. It's...unbelievably disturbing to me. I hope I can find some of their propaganda videos online to show you.

OK, enough of me and now on to the Super Guest Blog!

-Megan R.

*******************

A few weeks ago, I was asked to be a potential guest blogger, since:

(a) like your regular blogger, I have many amusing stories from the
world of Seattle dating

(b) unlike your regular blogger, I stand up when I go to the bathroom,
which would provide you, dear reader, with the 'other' perspective

Alas, I thought about it and most of my hilarious dating stories are
either only hilarious to me or would involve revealing identifying
characteristics about other relevant parties, which I'm just not going
to do. Many of the stories are of the "small world" variety like, oh,
going to a dinner party and learning a month later that the host once
hooked up with your ex-girlfriend (not the one you were at the dinner
party with).

So until I dredge up some appropriate stories from the recesses of my
memory (hmm, have I blocked them out? :) ), what if instead I share some
self-deprecating experiences on 'living single'. For the non-single, it
will just be amusing. For the single, it might actually be useful...
there should be a website for trading this stuff. Maybe there is. I
haven't looked.

The set-up: So I get home from a great backpacking trip yesterday. The
only trouble is I got a bunch of mostquito bites -- the really-really
Oh-God-just-make-it-stop-itching variety. And some of them are right in
the middle of my back where I can't reach. Now you might be thinking,
"just buy a back-scratcher Single Dude, or just rub up against a
doorframe if you're really lazy." But that's totally counter-productive
-- scratching mosquito bites just makes them itch more. There are a few
cures, my preferred one being aloe (Solarcaine).

So now we have our Single Dude Challenge: Get Solarcaine patted into the
middle of your back. Now getting help from a friend, relative, or
neighbor on this one is clearly out of the question. Sure it's just
mosquito bites, but the whole thing is *way* too close to "hey look at
my rash." I tried various sorts of stretching, throwing, swatting, etc. I'll spare you the details, and jump straight to the...

Step-by-step Brilliant Solution (if I do say so myself):

1. Find a clean washcloth. (Gentlemen: This is possibly the most
difficult part. You might check under the towels you save for when
guests stay with you; that's where I found mine.)

2. Lay it flat and squirt Solarcaine onto it in long rows. Don't be shy.

3. Lay the washcloth aloe-side up on your bed the right distance from
your pillow so that when you lay on your back, it will be just where the
mosquito bites are. (I know, I know, I'm brilliant -- even the most
unobservant guy knows where on the bed the middle of his back will land.
And if you get it wrong, you can always try again.)

4. Lay down and -- voila -- your bodyweight gives all the pressure you
need to apply the aloe and stop the itching.

I guess I have some marketable skills after all. I can also teach you
how to flip over a king-size mattress by yourself without knocking over
any of the stuff on your dresser. Then again, that one is a little more
fun to learn the hard way.

***********************************
Megan R. again. I just wanted to say to my New Super Guest Blogger that I'm totally on board with creating a site to swap living single stories! When you fall into the category of Indefinitely Single, you learn a lot of tricks to get by on your own (usually pretty happily and creatively).

Had another date this week with a very nice guy who just isn't for me. We had pleasant enough conversation, though. At one point, he asked:

"You like HBO shows, huh? Do you like the Sopranos?"

Me: "Sure."

Him: "Oh good. It's my favorite."

To my surprise, he followed that statement by making a fist and holding it up to give me "knuckles" across the table. Knuckles!

Me: "Oh, so we're doing knuckles now?"

He nodded very seriously.

OK. I guess I can't leave him hanging. I made a fist and lightly tapped his hand. Knuckles on a first date! Who knew?

I finished reading Kyle Smith's Love Monkey, and I have to say that it got better and better as the story went along. So many truly laugh-out-loud moments and great substance to a book that could have been just fluff. And, I loved having an inside look at the perspective of a single man who is right around my age. Now I've moved on to Anne Tyler's Digging to America. She is one of my very favorite authors, and while I'm tempted to plow right through because the writing is so good, I'm forcing myself to read it Very Slowly. I became an Anny Tyler junkie in middle school after reading Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant, and fell in love with her as an author after A Slipping Down Life. Yet, I think the very best is her first novel If Morning Ever Comes (published in 1964!). My love for her is enduring, and I'm so thrilled when a new one comes out that I do my best to savor it.

Just saw that the new season of Entourage premieres on September 7th. Yessssss!

Em and I watched the movie Broken English (Parker Posey) the other day. Loved it! It goes well with the Screaming Banshee guest post. I'm looking forward to seeing it again even.

I've decided that electronics don't like me. I lost my MP3 player at Christmas. This week my laptop pretty much crapped out and my digital camera died. We can't forget my numerous car issues over the years (although Trixie seems to be doing fine now). Let me tell ya, I bet my TV and DVD player are sweating bullets. They know the outlook is not good. In my typical Megan method, I quickly selected and ordered a new computer. I work with a bunch of tech geeks who can give me decent recommendations, which is a good thing, because I really dislike researching options and "shopping around." I have no patience for it and quickly become overwhelmed. Instead, I pick one that sounds decent enough because I can select a cool color and design for it, and have a web cam integrated to make chatting with Trav easy. :-) I've chosen a digital camera to order because it's highly-rated and affordable...and it comes in a color I like. Yep. That's my reasoning.

Recently, friend Jen went out with a guy who made a comment that could have been sensitive to her, and he quickly apologized. Jen says this guy pulled The Megan (inadvertently insulting dates technique), so naturally I'm on board with her going out with him. It's looking like I'll have opportunities to use The Megan again this week. Exciting!

So, the subject of the Spitter came up again at a Girls' Night following the lunchtime disclosure. I'd recovered from my shock, and now I had questions.

Me: So, Lovely Friend, what I really want to know here is what did you do? I mean, did everything come to a halt? Or, did you figure you better 'make this one count' and start digging deep in your throat?

Enter friends giggling and making throat-clearing noises.

LF: I didn't really know what to do, so I just gave him a really sloppy kiss.

Well. There you have it. Ewwwwwwwww. One of my friends started referring to the guy as the Spittoon. Fitting.

SGB #2: I Just Became Someone Else’s Bad Date Blog

OK, peeps, I definitely have more to say about the Spitter from my previous post (uh, YEAH!), and I will, but for now enjoy super guest blog #2 from CTI!

******************
You know how sometimes you react emotionally, and the emotion is so strong, you mistake it for pure reason (“How could I possibly be wrong about this? It’s so CLEAR.”), so you act on it and then when the adrenaline is gone, you’re just kinda like, ….oh. Ooops.

Or maybe you’re usually so rational that when something happens and you react emotionally, you’re like, “The hell with it. Everyone always says I should be more spontaneous, so FINE. How’s this for spontaneous?!” And then when the adrenaline is gone, you’re just kinda like, …oh. Hm. You cry a little and scratch your head and thank who ever is listening that your girlfriends love you…and will let you buy them cocktails.

Those of you who read my last post will remember that the guys who enter my World of Dating get nicknames. Interestingly, the most recent guy did not get one. Well, ok, except that he was Guy Without a Nickname for a while. I thought it was a good sign, and in fact he was around for about a month - a record for me in the last two years. (I just remembered that in my last post I also said that what I really want is to tango with a man who brings me flowers. I should have known when Guy Without a Nickname said “flowers are a dead gift” that he wasn’t the one for me.)

***Chatty Girl note: What is up with some of these guys and their "flowers are a dead gift" mentality??? Let me tell ya fellas, flowers are one of THE gifts. But that's another blog post. Carry on, CTI.***

The No Nickname Phenomenon was not because he was generic, but more that there weren’t any good single words or short phrases to describe him. Subtle? No, he certainly wasn’t subtle. Sneaky? Well, not exactly. He was more of a, “I have to tell you this story so you understand what I mean about him” kind of date.

Some of the names I’ve thought of since getting to know him better are:

• Stir the Pot at Work Guy
• I Have to Pay Cash for Everything/I Can’t Own Credit Cards Because I Max Them Out Guy
• Hey Wanna Meet Me at Walmart and Help Me Schlep My 56” Flat Panel Guy
• I Should Get Credit for Showing Up to Dinner at All Since I’m Such a Bad Planner Guy
• “Let Me Make You Dinner” Really Means “Let Me Buy You Mexican” Guy

And finally, my favorite:

• How About We Have Sex and Then I Bail on You, Except That What I Really Do is Treat You Like Crap Until You Call Me On It Guy

***Chatty Girl note/chant: Dump the chump! Dump the chump!***

You know what really kills me about this? This is a man with two Master’s degrees in the social sciences, who impressed upon me that he could be vulnerable emotionally, who said he always wanted me to feel safe and comfortable in his presence. And yet he still behaves like this? What hope is there, seriously?

Anyway, I sent the “Dear John” letter. (Let’s just call him John from now on, shall we?) (Oh, and, I’ve...paraphrased.)

Dear John,

As you know, I’m uber rational and feel the need to specifically illuminate the reasons you are a pooze, and I am therefore no longer inclined to be intimately involved with you.

1. Although you expressed a desire to cultivate an emotional and physical connection with me, you alienated me and enjoyed watching me flounder about in confusion.
2. You are an intelligent, educated man (I use the term loosely) yet still manage to be physically incapable of verbalizing the simple phrase, “I’m sorry but I just don’t think we are a good match.”
3. You have a propensity for playing psychological games with people, so I’m not entirely convinced I’m not just your latest Mind Fuck Project.

As you may also know, I naively want to give people the benefit of the doubt, even when doing so will clearly undermine my own ability to move on and find a healthier relationship, so just in case I’m totally wrong and you still think I’m cute and you really, really want to win me back, I’m still willing to talk. :)

Oh, and P.S. it makes me feel really bad to say anything that might hurt someone’s feelings so if you just ask I’ll be glad to apologize and find things to say that make you feel better.

Cheers,

CTI

Strangely, I got no response. Hm.

Unfortunately, when you’re uber rational all the time, your moments of irrationality can be like a super-nova. Big, bright burst of white-hot heat with science geeks eager to document the event.

So, CTI had a little psychotic episode. John hadn't responded to her email, and while she was waiting for Chatty Girl to finish up some work before going out for drinks, CTI checked his MySpace page. There was a post from a busty blonde - "April" - dated the night before (when supposedly he was working, which was why he couldn’t meet to talk about the relationship and why he ultimately got the email) - that read "Thanks for being a friend. I enjoyed your company."

CTI lost – and I mean LOST - her mind. Bursting into flames in her office chair was only narrowly avoided. The following text exchange ensued.

To John:

Why did you feel you had to lie to me? I don't care who April is, but really? You couldn’t just tell me we were over?

(Dear reader, are you imagining a hysterical screaming banshee? You should be.)

From John:

A) I didn't and don't feel the need to lie to you and 2) you have no idea what you are talking about.

To John:

You are right I have no idea - you don't talk to me. I'm sorry that I'm feeling hurt over this whole thing but do you blame me?

From John:

(no response)

(ever)

The text exchange was then followed by wracking sobs and tears on Chatty Girl's desk. There was tissue rationing.

***Chatty Girl note: Yes, yes there was. It's difficult in these situations when you have only two tissues left.***

There has been no additional communication from John. Guess I sealed the deal on that one.

By the way, yes he did actually use A) then 2). (And just to be mean, I might add that on his MySpace page he called something “exceptable” instead of “acceptable.” Where did you go to grad school again?)

But um, ok, wow. Can you say psycho? In about ten minutes I went from Rational Girl Who Yeah Got Blown Off But Handled it Well to Psycho Stalker Texting Accusations Girl. If I were on the other end of this experience, I’d be blogging about that too – it’s insane!

So clearly I have some issues. One of them is trust. One of them is self control when overcome by emotion. This is a fairly bad combination.

I know that in the grand scheme of things, me sending two slightly irrational texts is not so bad. I had just dumped the guy, so why did I even care who he was spending time with? She probably was just a friend. The real problem was that, as usual, I trusted someone and put effort into what I thought was a real chance at a relationship, and they blew me off. Maybe they weren’t lying, but they weren’t telling the whole truth, either. I HATE that shit.

Anyway, I guess I can be glad I’m not the girl who had to deal with SPIT Guy. Ew.

There isn't much from my life that I want to share this week, so instead I'm going to do what I do best--poach stories from other people. I guess if it were really poaching, I'd pretend that these were my own, but instead I tell people directly "Hey, that's a good one. It's going up on my blog," and I give credit. They may be happy or sad about it, but in Meganville my vote is the one that counts. If times get really tough, and the poaching causes me to lose all friends and, therefore, entertaining material, I could make some stuff up and become the James Frey of the blogging world. I have lots of options.

Oh, I did end up "closing" one online prospect after we got to the open communication stage for various reasons. Primarily, the emails were really boring. He asked me for details about going to Israel, so I shared. He responded with, "Israel sounds great. This summer I will go to Phoenix for a workshop" and that was it. Woo-effing-hoo. I asked him about his career, which sounded very interesting, and he told me a bit about where he went to school. Well, actually, he told me where he went to school and then spent more time addressing the price of parking at the college back in the day. I'm sorry, sir, but if parking rates in '91 are a main topic during one of our first emails, I fear it's only downhill from here.

Stay tuned for another post from the Super Guest Blogger soon. I'm excited!

So, lunch with a couple of girlfriends the other day suddenly turned into an episode of Sex and the City.

The three of us were sitting at a booth, chatting away about the guy my lovely friend across the table had recently started dating. We talked about the usual stuff. What's he like? What do they have in common? Do they have fun? Is he good in bed? The answer to the last question is yes, except...My lovely friend had more to share.

Me: Oooooo, goody. Tell us!

LF: I don't know. I might be too embarrassed to even say it. It might be TMI.

Me: Nothing is TMI for me! I really want to hear.

LF: I don't know...

Us: Oh, come on.

We wait patiently for LF to make up her mind. For me, patiently = chanting "Tell us! Tell us!" so the person being questioned will feel so much pressure and annoyance she will burst out with the truth.

LF: Well, ok. So we're going along and everything is good, but then he made a request. He asked me to spit in his mouth.

SPIT.

I have to tell ya, folks, when I queried the database in my mind for potential kinky acts the guy could have asked for, SPIT did not come up once. I did not know how to process this information, so I just covered my eyes with my hand and started shaking with laughter.

Well, in spite of a lovely date with the NG yesterday (lunch, walk around Wallingford, coffee, and a walk around Greenlake - five hours of talking!), it doesn't appear that we're destined for romance, but hopefully a good friendship.

Next!

:-)

Megan R. has a way with the men: Part One

My sister dispenses dating advice to me via IM. One tip is to make jokes that don't involve past dating nightmares or the guy's personality.

On a fun date last week with a guy who seems really nice and interesting, we talked for two hours about all sorts of things. It was great! During one of our conversations, he revealed that, while he enjoys socializing, he prefers interacting in smaller groups rather than large ones, and we had a discussion along these lines.

Nice Guy: I don't do as well in large groups. I end up feeling like I'm pushed to the outside edges, every time.

Me: Huh. Why do you think that is?

NG: I don't know. It just always happens. Recently, I told this to a guy at a work party, and he said, "Hmmmm. You have problems in groups? Maybe you're an Aspie like me." (People with Asperger Syndrome sometimes call themselves Aspies.) I'm not, and my friend and I thought it was bizarre of him to suggest that out of nowhere.

(Enter brief side convo about the characteristics of AS and how he doesn't fit the bill.)

Me (totally joking and laughing): Yeah. Random. You should have told the guy, "No, I'm not an Aspie; I'm just a loser."

Hahahaha! I crack myself up. NG laughs a little. He definitely isn't a loser, but I couldn't resist the funny.

(Molly's comment: "Yes, its charming on the first date to call the man a loser basically!)

Later on, while sharing a sandwich, I'm attempting to eat carefully and listen to a story on travel NG is telling. I tear off a delicate little bite and, on it's way to my mouth, an olive falls out of the grilled focaccia and lands directly on top of my, um, chest. I'm wearing a scoop-necked t-shirt, so the olive is on bare skin. It just sits there. I notice. He notices. I laugh awkwardly and make a comment about how attractive this is while plucking the offending olive from my boob. Then, I proceed to dab skin with napkin and tell him "Don't mind me! Carry on with what you're saying!" NG very sweetly says that he is often a messy eater and is trying to be so careful himself.

(Molly's comment: "Olive on boob. Nice one!")

Later this week...

Exchange some emails with NG. We talk about comedians we like. He asks if I've seen a particular clip of one, and I say no, although I'm familiar with this person as Em is a big fan. In a previous message, I'd told how Em burns me CDs of comedians she likes and, while I always end up enjoying them, it takes me about six months to finally get around to listening, much to her chagrin. I don't know why.

Message from Megan R. to NG:

Hmmmm. I don't think I've seen that one. Send it to me, and I promise to watch it within six months. I'm laughing picturing me sending off an email six months from now being like, "I watched the clip. That was great!" and you being like, "Who is this person?"

Email reply from NG:

Here you go. Enjoy! Talk to you in six months!

(Molly's comment: "Ya, well you are really giving him hope that you see this working out.")

I need help.

In spite of it all, he asked me to go out again (Molly's comment: "Apparently he likes 'the treatment.'"), so we're meeting up tomorrow. Wish me luck!

Message received from recent match I will call Outdoor Guy. OG and I just reached the "open communication" phase, and I'd responded to a brief email he sent about his outdoor activities and the hope of one day owning a boat. Let me mention that I'm not overly optimistic about the sitch already, because I state very clearly in my profile that I'm not an "Outdoor Girl," yet OG has persisted with outdoor questions. I wrote back trying to shift the convo to other topics of interest. I don't mean to make fun, but I'm a bit mystified about what to say after receiving this back:

"As long as I have plenty of appointments I don't have to worry about the results and my job is very enjoyable. My job is all sales, marketing and customer service.

I would like to own a boat one day but am in no rush. It is very beneficial to know people who live on the lake and have boats.

Would you like to get together, what is your phone number?"

So. My sister says she just learned about the "direct close" technique in one of her sales training classes, and it looks like OG is testing that out here. Yet, he didn't wait for the positive cues that are usually recommended when you give that a shot. Instead, it's more or less the I-don't-need-a-boat-'cause-I-can-mooch-off-others-wanna-go-out? technique.

Hit reply. Ummmmmm. No? I'm open to suggestions here, peeps.

I'm reading Kyle Smith's Love Monkey at the moment. Chris recommended the book to me as a male version of Bridget Jones, and it really is, only even more heartbreakingly real in terms of the roller coaster of pursuing a doomed relationship, and funnier in some ways. There are so many clever, self-deprecating, humorous lines mixed in there that I end up giggling lots to myself on the bus, which means I fit right in.

Let the good times begin

The other day, in the silliness that is the online dating world, I got matched with a guy who didn't have a picture posted, but who proudly stated that he was the prom king in high school. Also, in the top five things he can't live without, the Choco Taco ranked #4. Wow.














Choco "closed" me before I even saw his profile. This is a serious loss. I'm guessing one reason could be my line about how emotional maturity is important to me, and he wisely ascertained that we are not a good fit. I was entertained.

I have to tell ya peeps, this online business is fun so far! While you may assume I'm being sarcastic after the Choco, the truth is I'm not. It's early, but I'm having good feelings about this. For now.

Super Guest Blogger

Hello, my darlings! You should be so proud of my restraint. I've been very good while away, only on the computer when absolutely necessary to look up old mansions to visit and the like. I'm heading home soon, and will be back to posting in short order. However, I've still been text messaging with wild abandon, and, in the course of busily corresponding with my peeps, I encouraged one of my Lovely Ladies to write a guest post for you all. And she did! I love, Love, LOVE what she wrote and decided to visit the computer for a few minutes to put this online straight away.

This comes at a fortuitous time, because a few of the Lovely Ladies and I have discussed creating an anonymous dating/relationship/love/What the Hell? blog, and I think this makes for an excellent first post. A trial run, so to speak. The thing is, we've got stories. We've got questions. We've all had our "moments" that come with the territory of really truly being out there. We often talk about the complicated beauty that is human relationships. And, at any given time, we're feeling confused, hopeful, disappointed, adored, amused, frustrated, enlightened, and, perhaps most importantly in the rough moments, optimistic. As a result, we have things to say, stories to share, and we're ready to do that. You all know, for understandable reasons, there are just some things I can't/won't talk about here (Hi Mom!...and anyone else I might not want reading the super secret dating blog. Heh.), so...

We'll see what happens, but I'm loving the idea.

Without further ado, here is the guest post by the lovely ConjugateTheInfinitive!

*******************

The men that enter my World of Dating get nicknames. Not out of disrespect or mockery – at least not most of the time. Ok, ok, not ALL the time. But when you go on a bunch of first dates, and your girlfriends are going on a bunch of first dates, “Joe” and “Tom” are not all that descriptive. “Spammer Guy,” however, lets your ladies know *exactly* who you are talking about. Spammer Guy was a really nice guy, but worked for a company that was basically responsible for junk mail. Dude, I don’t care how much yoga you do. You kill that many trees and I’m just not sure we can be friends.

The latest guy is 936Coolio. “936Coolio?” you ask. Yes. Let me explain. We met online, and the first time 936Coolio ever called me was after maybe two emails that said pretty much nothing. We had decided we’d talk on a Tuesday evening. I suggested 7pm. He apparently did not get my email as my phone rang at 9:36pm. I did not answer. I refused to condone that kind of behavior. When I was a kid, my parents made it very clear that you did not call anyone before 9am or after 9pm. But I did check with all my friends to be sure I wasn’t being ridiculous. The general consensus was that, at the very least, it was a bit rude.

We do finally get in touch the next day and agree we can both meet for dinner after work. His confirmation text to my phone? “Coolio.”

Really?

IM to Chattygirl: “so, what do you think it means when a 37 year old man confirms your first date with “coolio”?

Chattygirl: I don’t know but I hope you have bling.

Me: tru dat homie

Turns out 936Coolio is what they call a “blockbuster.” I’m pretty sure this is according to my good friend’s hot, hippity-hop 21 year old co-worker. In any case, it seems appropriate. Both because he completely skips the actual “dating” part and goes right to the “comfortable on the couch” part AND because his living room could easily be a Blockbuster video store. (In my head there’s also this weird linguistic/gestalt connection to “cockblocker,” which did, in fact, turn out to be my role in this whole anxiety-inducing scenario. But, that’s a whole ‘nother blog and I won’t get into that here.)

Date 1 went surprisingly well, so after dinner we agreed to spend more time together. Translation: we watched “Flight of the Conchords” on his ridiculously huge TV. In fact, when I told my friend K about the date, she even said, “He has a ridiculously huge TV, doesn’t he?” Hm.

Date 1.5 was me getting convinced to come by at 10pm on a Friday night to “hang out.” I admit, I feel stupid for going, but I guess in my innocence (shut up it’s not funny), I really wanted to believe that the invitation was so we could talk and get to know each other better. I mean, of *course* he couldn’t wait to see me – I’m riveting. But, as I mentioned, the reality is a whole ‘nother blog.

Date 2 seemed promising – dinner plans. Turns out that my idea of dinner plans and his idea of dinner plans were not the same thing. Mine included actually staying at the restaurant. His included take out and sitting in front of his ridiculously huge TV.

There was a request for Date 2.5, but I’d learned my lesson and politely declined.

Hindsight is 20/20, ladies and gentlemen, but I agreed to Date 3. Any guesses as to our plans? I managed to convince him to STAY in a restaurant this time, but then we were going to watch Battlestar Galactica on (say it with me now) his ridiculously huge TV. Somehow this must have actually been my idea since I had mentioned wanting to see the show; several friends had said it was worth seeing. I thought I had planned NetFlix, but apparently I had planned his couch.

Ultimately, the problem became that 936 couldn’t even call or email me in the course of two days to confirm plans, so I’m hanging out at work at 5:00 on a Friday going, “Don’t I have a date?” So I made an executive decision.

“Sayonara Coolio. I’m having wine with my girlfriends.”

(Just to give credit where credit is due, I couldn’t have made the executive decision without my, um, Executive Assistant, L.)

And yet, I’m struggling with my choice to walk away instead of talking with 936 about how I feel. Maybe he’d be willing to go out more if I only said something. Maybe he’d be better at making plans if he only knew how important it was to me. At what point does common courtesy change over to my responsibility for expressing what I want? The internal dialogue has had me spinning out of control all week.

Head: The guy didn’t even care about trying to take you out or ask you what you were interested in doing.

Heart: But people have different dating styles, and I want to respect that.

Head: On the second date he told you that he’s made masturbation an art form.

Heart: So, he’s honest and open about his sexuality.

Head: He manipulated conversation so he could avoid answering your questions or really tell you anything, including the fact that he’s probably boinking the other chick he just met. You didn’t feel like you could trust him.

Heart: But he was honest with me about the fact the he is seeing someone else – a lot of guys wouldn’t even have told me!

Head: He couldn’t even call you to confirm plans for Date 3 until he was supposed to be picking you up!

Heart: Well, I can be kind of rigid about plans and timing; he’s just laid back.


This is exhausting.

So, here’s the question(s). First of all, why am I making excuses for this guy? Is it unreasonable to expect someone you’ve just met to want to actually go out and do stuff? Even if the dating is “casual” because there are other people in the picture, shouldn’t I expect a little respect for my time, and at least feel like I was worthy of some effort? Why, when there is so much evidence that we were incompatible, do I feel like crap for bailing? Why do I feel like my only choices are sabotage myself right out of a good relationship or let myself get sucked into a bad one? I’m perfectly willing to put work into creating a good relationship – I totally get that they are not all fun and cozy snuggling – but should I have to do that before we even get to Date 3?

I’m contemplating the response to Chattygirl’s “I’m Just Sayin,’” (March 22) by anonymous. As far as I could tell, my internal Magic 8 Ball was letting me know that being with 936 compromised me too much, and I need to pay attention to the SIGNS POINT TO NO or ASK ME AGAIN LATER AFTER YOU'VE SOMEHOW MANAGED TO CHANGE HIS/HER PERSONALITY WHICH THERE'S NO WAY IN HELL IS ACTUALLY GOING TO HAPPEN BUT GO AHEAD AND WASTE THE NEXT FIVE YEARS FIGURING THAT OUT FOR YOURSELF AND GET BACK TO ME. (Love your style, anonymous.) Given this perspective I did the right thing and should feel good about it, right?

Repeat internal dialogue, followed by questions, above. Oh, and add, how reliable is the Magic 8 Ball after only 2 dates?

On a final note, I really do believe that when you put yourself in the hands of the Universe, she brings you what you need. After telling 936 that things were off, I went with my very good friend to World Cup on Roosevelt. It so happened that there was a Girl With a Guitar playing that night, and she was AMAZING. I bought her CD and took the very last bus home so I could hear her whole set. I highly recommend that you check out Angela Reed.

We sat in World Cup – a super cute coffee and wine bar – listening to this beautiful singer, sipping red wine, and lamenting human relationships. The song The Grocer and the Tango Teacher made me cry. It reminded me that we are all just people with a life to live, doing the very best we can with what we have, no matter how obtuse and incongruous it all seems when put together. It reminded me that real connections between men and women happen, that I have every right to expect to find it for myself, and that yes, what I really want is to tango with a man who brings me flowers.

"I'm Just Sayin!" by Megan R.

So, the Lori Gottlieb article Marry Him! The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough. I hope you all finished your reading assignment. I've had a lot of interesting conversations with people--mostly female friends, married and single--about this one. Overall, I don't love the message of the article. I can't say I completely disagree with all of the author's points either. But, I found the argument for settling unsettling at best.

First, let me say that I think it's necessary for men and women to have a healthy perspective of love, relationships, and the realities of choosing a lasting commitment with a partner. Yet, society still glorifies fairytale images of romance and the perfect life you will have if and only if you find your one true love. A point that a couple of my friends have made, and I agree, is that we are bombarded, from a very young age, with ideas of love and happily ever after that simply don't exist. From our first Disney movie to the sugar sweet endings in chick flicks, we develop expectations about what love should look and feel like that ultimately leave us disappointed and disillusioned after we accumulate our own failed relationship baggage. Suddenly, the fairytale ending loses it's shine, because you are aware that real life continues once you ride off into the sunset with Mr. Right.

After all, don't you think Snow White had some serious trust issues to work out after the poisoned apple debacle? Didn't Cinderella harbor the tiniest bit of resentment that her man didn't even recognize her, in spite of their amazing connection at the ball, until she produced that dang glass slipper as proof of her identity? And, did each of these women arrive at their respective castles in the first blushes of love to discover that Prince Charming actually has an internet porn addiction, gambles away the royal jewels, and will kick the dog in a rage, leaving them with no choice but to ditch the prince and jump right back into the dating pool?

The author makes a strong case for letting go of the fantasies that hinder us in our search for lasting love. But, is letting go of idealized notions really settling? I call it growing up. For most of the single women I know, self-awareness, maturity, and experience have educated us on the realities of navigating life with a partner who is just as human as we are. I'm not perfect, and neither is anybody else. Thank God! Obvious dealbreakers (addictions, abuse, etc.) aside, that realization is refreshing. Perfection is overrated--boring, in fact--and impossible to sustain. It isn't real. Even one of my male friends pointed out that the goal isn't to find love with the perfect person, it's to find someone who not only likes you for all your good, but who fully sees your faults and quirks and decides she can live with those, too. And vice versa. I believe understanding and accepting this can lead to a deeper and more lasting connection than any portrayed in the fairy tales.

My primary issue with the article is that the author's case for settling is based on the premise that, if you want to have children, you should snag any decent guy, whether you love him or not, and get to procreating while you're still young enough to do it. For many women, the pressure to find "the One" is already high, especially if she wants children. Like it or not, there are still lots of ways to call a woman a spinster, and we hear it even from well-meaning people in our lives. As my friend Shannon pointed out, a woman who selects a dodgy husband (also known as a "poozer") endures far less questioning about her choice than one who decides to remain single. So, the article seems to be saying, if he's nice enough, will take out the garbage, and schlep around a bunch of baby stuff, you have as good a chance as any of being happy with him. Plus, you'll never be lonely again! If it doesn't work out, you're better off and have more options with child support checks rolling in and visitations with dad to free up your evenings for dating after divorce.

I don't know. While that's certainly an option, and maybe one that will look more pleasing to me if I approach my 40th birthday without a mate or children, I don't think it's the best one to advocate for in general. I'm not going to support a "Settle for Him!" movement based on some shaky TV show references. Gottlieb bemoans the fact that Rachel on Friends gave up nice guy Barry, simply because she wasn't "feeling it," only to end up in a tumultuous relationship with Ross. But, don't we find out in the course of the series that sweet but boring Barry was actually boinking Rachel's best friend during their engagement? Nice. I'm not so quick to discount the not "feeling it" as a legit reason for ending a relationship, as I think intuition can provide helpful guidance in situations without clear rules and where the answer is never black and white.

Gottlieb also points out that settling is already a rampant phenomenon that no one wants to talk about, but then she uses the high divorce rate as evidence of "true love" not necessarily leading to marital bliss. So...why isn't settling just as viable a choice? I say that, when it comes to the high divorce rate, perhaps settling is part of the problem. People have very set ideas when mapping out their lives and often burden themselves with questionable milestones to reach by a certain age. Getting married and having children ranks right up there. How many people do you know who married young, or married because that's what they though they were supposed to do, maybe even had a couple of kids, are now divorced? I can think of quite a few in my relatively small circle. The reasons vary, but I can tell you that without a foundation of real love and commitment, the incentive to stay and work it out is just about nil. Why bother when the next person to settle for is waiting right around the corner?

Okay, while I know I could go on and on about this topic, and maybe even will later, I'm stopping myself for now. What do you think? Comment away! (See comment link below.) Don't be shy!

Update

Thanks to my one commenter so far:

Links and More Links!

Em sent me this pic. I love it! When we were roomies, we always talked about wishing we had an extra room for a specific purpose, like a choreography room or a science lab where we could do experiments on Peeps. Here we have Peeps with their own choreography room. Lucky!

I laughed a lot over Shy Guys: How to get the girls. "Once you have that money, you can deal with your shyness by simply buying women something every time things get awkward and they want to talk."

Facebook Amway!?!? Oh no!

And, when I have more time, I have lots to say about Lori Gottlieb's Marry Him! The case for settling for Mr. Good Enough. I might even open up comments for that one. Your assignment is to read before my next post. I don't know when that will be, but get to it!

Blogtastic! Or...Not.

I wish I had exciting things to report, but sadly I don't because I'm sick. For the past few days my bed has been an island. I live there. It started with a raging sore throat and fever Thursday night, and moved right on up to my head and ears. At times it's felt like my head might literally explode from the pressure, and even things requiring the tiniest amount of effort exhaust me. No excessive amount of sleep will do. I sleep 12 hours a night, and then find myself needing little two hour naps during the day. Today the pressure is less, but I'm more stuffed up and have a very pleasing dry cough. But, I think that means this thing is moving along, and I couldn't be happier about that. There is only so much you can do when confined to an island.

I've discovered that being single and sick can cause one to feel quite sorry for herself. Sick and pathetic - not a winning combo. First, let me say that I'm usually pretty happy in my singleness, enjoying my freedom and where my life is at right now. While of course I ultimately want to find a true partner in crime to live happily ever after with (ha ha - no really!), and I will continue looking for him, my dating adventures over the last year or two have proven educational but have also either ended painfully or with a dud. So, I'm not really in a rush. I'm hopeful for the future, though, and that one day soon I will get it right. In the meantime, I enjoy being with my fabulous self and all my wonderful friends and family. Yet I have my moments--for example, when sick--where I feel very woe-is-me for not having someone who is obligated to be at my bossy beck and call (I mean, who loves me so much he can't wait to come running) when I need tea, soup, and cold-relieving drugs, as well as conversation and tlc on my lonely little island.

Luckily, these moments pass. But, I think it's natural sometimes to want to be cared for in that way, especially when we don't feel up to doing it for ourselves, and to be able to offer that kind of caring to someone else, simply because we love them. For those of you who have that, remember to appreciate it, please. On my end, I will try not to think hmphy thoughts about you, like when I see those bouncy couples dancing around on eHarm commercials, grinning like idiots and talking about how they just clicked in every way. Happy bastards.

I am a lucky girl to have great friends who check up on me and even offer to bring me supplies. Thank you so much. Em came over last night to watch a movie with me and brought me a couple of deliciously trashy romance novels for entertainment, which are just my speed right now. One major plus of being on own is that people call and chat with me on the IM, which means I don't have to worry about anyone seeing just how messy my hair can get or how crappy I can look while feeling like crap. Yesterday I spent a peaceful, lovely afternoon by myself curled up, watching the snow fall outside, and napping.

In other news, Kitty really hates her ear gel. Easier-schmeasier. She tries to close up her ear when she sees me getting ready to apply it, and it's becoming a bit of a wrestling match twice a day. I have to wear a special glove, so my skin doesn't absorb the gel and I treat myself for hyperthyroidism. The whole thing is a process, and we're both over it. I'm calling Dr. Andrew to order pills I can crush up into her food once a day.

I've been debating about getting a Christmas tree. After the debacle with Ugly Tree last year, and it sitting outside my door turning bright orange until March, I think I'm going to skip it and just get one of those little tabletop Twinkle Trees (I have my eye on a cute one at Fireworks. Love that store!). It's all about the lights for me anyway, and I just feel like making things easy this time.

Total number of holiday gifts purchased so far: 0.

I'm right on schedule.

Thanks to Em for advertising my blog as Blogtastic! and to all you nice folks who say you agree. That makes me happy.

-Bacon R.

P.S. My cousin Alan sent this pic from his recent trip to Greece with his lovely girlfriend. The sign made him think of me, Mols, and Trav, and I have to say I love it! So cute, so funny! Thank you!