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!

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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.