My Armor is Weak

I joke that my knight in shining armor is more likely to be a knight in rusty tinfoil. That's not to say that the damsel doesn't protect herself as well. While I am a lady who carries my femininity with care, I am also a warrior who fights to protect what is mine:

My heart. Whether these men realize it or not, that is what they fight for. I didn't put myself out there just to get free dinner and have all the fun adventures. No, those are the stops on the journey, not the destination. Ultimately, I do want to reward someone the prize of my heart. But experience has taught me that men need to fight for it. I have handed it from my weak, unsteady hands, and even tossed it to the closest one who stretches out his arms.

Not this time. The biggest change I've experienced on this leg of the journey is that I have multiple knights out there at the ready. It's my call whether or not they even get the chance to joust.

This is why I am so enamored with fire play. It's the manipulation and control of an element that's particularly dangerous, but without it I feel vulnerable. I joke with my show family that I try to treat my performances as burlesque with fire because if you take that away from me, I'm only a girl, wide-eyed and imagining the crowd naked right before a speech. Fire protects me. I devise so many ways to protect myself from the dangers of falling hard for someone.

Even The Trainer called me cynical. It was the night I got tequila sassy while texting him. The irony is that I was calling him out on whether or not he'd behave the next time he saw me (which he did, and that's definitely fine). He kept saying he would. And one of the philosophies I've carried for years came from one of my best friends. He always said to believe nothing you hear and half of what you see. Well, that's exactly what I told The Trainer. I'm fairly certain that the statement sounded like a cynical drunken mess.

It's true though. Maybe I should rephrase it as this: believe nothing you hear, half of what you see, and deny nothing you feel.

Before I post, I like to go back to what I've written early on in these (mis)adventures. One such post was about trusting one's gut. My friend is a beautiful divorcee who still continues to have her own dating adventures. Like anyone else who tries it, she has her hits and misses, but comes out of each experience with a wealth of knowledge.

"Your gut never lies. Trust your gut."

Yeah, I could do that, but I'm stubborn and imaginative. Why oh why would I try to face the reality of any situation, especially if I can manipulate it into something I can control? Something that I can use to protect myself from what could harm me?

That brings me to Dragon. He continues to challenge me and peel back the layers of who I have the potential to be. My efforts to keep the wall between us are failing. My veil is slipping, and the bricks are cracking. I can't deny that he is where I want to be anymore. I know this contradicts what I've said recently, but I also know finding other distractions (The Teacher, Philly, etc.) isn't going to hide the truth.

Dragon shows me. He shows me what he wants and needs from me, and more often than not, I hesitate to reciprocate. This creates a struggle for me because it's not fair to hold back what I know I have to give, but he still wears a red stamp on his forehead that screams non-committal.

But what am I seeing?

I spent most of my weekend with him. Saturday before he went into work, he stopped by to catch up on the episodes of our show he missed the week before. Without fail, he always puts his arms around me on the couch, and he rests his head on my shoulder. I usually find myself upright, gently grazing his hand to hold it, but never making myself to comfortable, even on my own couch. Because giving in means making the most vulnerable part of me exposed.

Yet isn't that what being with someone is? I fail to remember that dating isn't a straight and narrow course. Yeah, even with all my dating experiences, I forget. It's not meeting Person A, 3-5 awesome dates, The Talk, and on our merry (marry? No way, I forbid that) way. It's complex and confusing. Being with someone, whether you intend to be with him/her for a little or a lot-tle, means giving a piece of you to share and trusting that you are safe in his/her care.

So Dragon stayed for an episode, and again we found ourselves in my bed. After all was said and done, I was in his arms again, sharing laughs and dozing off for a cat nap before he had to leave. The funny thing is that this time, I fell into his arms. I purposely curled into him to listen to his heart beat. I traced my fingertips behind his ear to his shoulder to understand the power of his arms, and why I am trusting them to protect me.

I'm trusting him with this part of me.

He then did his short shift at work, then invited me to watch his friend's band play. We only stayed for a little bit, but he looked at me as we were leaving to ask if I was hungry. I knew he had been putting in a lot of hours at work and at school, so I know he was tired and not eating that well. Instead of picking up something quick and heading back to his place, he decided to cook me dinner. It was as lovely as it sounds. It was really late, so the fact that we went to pick up groceries so he can make something was incredibly kind and unexpected. I even felt guilty that I didn't help, but mostly it was because I was taken aback by it. We even had a laugh because we picked up $2 plastic mini wine bottles to enjoy with our meal.

After dinner, we watched a few videos. I then saw the time and it was approaching dawn. Though I hesitated, I decided to stay overnight with the stipulation that I would leave early to make it home to my dog. I was tired and the ride home would be dangerous after a few drinks. But we shared another intense session together, hands held, eyes locked, feeding into each other's desires. I wanted to wake up with him much later in the day. It felt nice knowing that every time I tossed or turned, he'd reach for me.

Later that day, when he came over we lay on the couch to watch the current episode. But this time I stretched out my arms and brought him closer to my heart, still rattling in its cage, slowly making an escape. I caressed him and felt him melt into me. I want to trust him with that part of myself, and I am slowly allowing him to do so. I was starting to show him that I can be open...because he trusts himself to be open with me.

My armor doesn't offer the finest protection. I am the first to admit that. But after all the walls I've built, and all the times I've carelessly treated my heart, I know I eventually need to let someone in. Dragon is certainly giving it a fighting chance.

I have a doggy date with The Trainer this week, and dinner date with Philly next weekend. I don't know what that means for what's been going on in my heart. The Dragon has by no means tamed me, but other suitors are lining up to try. I need to be open with Philly and let him know I am dating other people...

...because Dragon may soon take the damsel away from her castle and into a different leg of her journey.

Kinetic Heartbeats

I'm taking a momentary break from the usual storytelling for a poem. My heart is drenched and drunk from last night. Poetic justice is the only fair way to assess my feelings right now.

With shaky hands I skip stones across a quiet lake,
Mist laying like a perfect sheet across the water
I cannot see their journey each time I throw
But each graze matches the beats from my heart

Walking away, heels creating a hollow echo on the pier,
I rub the leftover stones in my pocket,
I don't want to waste them
They're safe and warm there

The sun peeks through the trees,
A muted sangria sky pulling my head to face the path
There is comfort with each step I take towards you
And a gentle breeze guides my way

When I meet you the veil opens before my eyes
And only merely I peek to find clarity in your gaze
But the warmth that opens your face is inviting
Behind my gossamer eyes I embrace it

A head on your shoulder, my fingertips trace your spine
In an effort to find how you hold yourself up for me
And your head cranes to find the hollow of my neck
Gentle touches that bring us together

My hand in yours, you share this warmth
And it brings me to a special place
Where nature's pull binds us in comfort-
Where there is serenity, electric and true

The stones in my pocket wait for release
So I put one in your hand
Our steps in cadence meeting at the end of the pier
You throw it with care, and ease

And it matches my heartbeat in perfect time
Eyes closed I reach for my own
Hoping to mimic that rhythm
I cast it along the water

The sun glistens as it finds its own beat
But perfect on its own
And in your eyes I see it clearly and we both agree
The energy is perfect

Dating: Shopping Without Buyer's Remorse

I haven't been posting as much because all has been quiet in the dating world. That doesn't mean I don't have anything to say about it though!

Let's start with Dragon. He's been continuing the usual good morning/good evening texts like a doting partner but while he's trying to make up his mind about me, I've been exploring other options. That and his schedule is exploding as mine is about to in the next few weeks. I rather enjoy this break from him. That's right cupcake: you can miss me.


Sure we have randy fun, but I'm still shopping, as my friend would say. I'm looking to sample the selection, and make an educated buying decision as opposed to dealing with buyer's remorse after some heavy retail therapy. Another friend told me awhile ago that the difference between men and women when they shop is that women are tangible shoppers: we like to touch items to figure out of it's something we want. Men on the other hand go into a store with an idea of what they need, look at it, and then buy.



(Dating remorse is greater than or equal to buyer's remorse)

What does that say about the fairer sex? In my experience, men and women date at the same rate. However, men are more upfront about what they want and what they expect. What they show for it after a shopping trip is a whole other story! Women will try one six pairs of knee-high, leather sole, black boots with a 2-inch heel before finding the right pair. Even then, there's no guarantee they'll ever make it out of the box. The same can be said for my dating adventures. I live in boots. But I'll never be satisfied, and there is always a better pair that comes along.

Ah, but what about The Trainer?

Well, we're still sass texting, as he likes to call it. He had a meeting today to figure out his next move. I guess it wasn't worth telling me how it went. Regardless, I'm enjoying some time with him on a much more innocent level. The other night we watched a movie at his place, and hung out with his dog. Let me paint the picture: it was the quintessential bachelor pad. Unfurnished. Stains all over the carpet. Stuff everywhere. Messy? Slightly. Cluttered? Definitely. Livable? If you're a sports trainer. He had supplements everywhere, a massage therapy table, and other strange-looking medical tools. Not surgical, but...machinery I suppose. He had a roommate which was no big deal. But we were going to watch a movie.

In his room. On his bed. Naturally, I was concerned about where this would go. Being the dog-lover I am though, I paid more attention to him than The Trainer. That in turn created a dog barrier between us on the bed. His dog loved my cuddles. Before we watched the movie we just talked a lot. And that was nice. I won't know the outcome until he tells me, but The Trainer has been kind and fun. Honestly I am 100% okay if he leaves and what I got out of this was a friend who I enjoyed a few dates with. If he stays? Well...what if he wants to commit but I'm not there quite yet?

(Red lipstick can make any girl feel glamorous)

That's what I'm worried about. I feel like I've gotten into this groove of dating. This isn't going to the grocery store begrudgingly after work because I need paper towels. No, this is going to the department store and trying to find the perfect red lipstick: the kind that glides on your lips with ease, never sticking to your hair, or chapping your lips. It's trying to find the one where you twist the case, the top snaps perfectly. The kind that makes you feel rich. That's what dating is like for me now.

After many talks with Brother Bear, he has convinced me to relieve myself of guilt. These men are on a need-to-know basis. All they need to know is that I'm happy being with them in that one moment. If they want more of those, they have to show they deserve them from me. I'm not going to be the girl looking at her phone wondering why he hasn't texted; I'm going to be the girl talking to someone else because he made the time for me.

I had this thought tonight. I went to one of my favorite restaurants and sat at the outdoor bar, sipping on a tequila sour and slowly savoring a huge slice of French silk pie. I was wearing my uniform of dress and boots sitting by myself. I was mostly on my phone because I didn't want to really interact with anyone. This was my time to be happy and alone. Happy and alone. These adventures fulfill and enrich me, but my time alone to go with these (mis)adventures has taught me that taking risks and forcing myself into new experiences helps me understand my needs. Dating others makes me consider what it takes to date myself.

Marilyn Monroe is known for being the envy of women and the desire of men. Norma Jean created a character that was to be desired. Many men fawned over Marilyn, but beneath the dresses and that sultry smile, she was still Norma Jean. As one of the most sought-after women in the world, anonomity was nearly impossible. Photographer Ed Feingersh printed a series of photos called 4 Days in New York. Sure enough, as she was hanging on a train strap on a subway, no one paid her any mind. With an innocent smile, she asked Ed if he wanted to see "her." With a rustle of her platinum blonde hair and a minimal back arch, eyes moved like magnets to see Marilyn in the subway car. Droves of men flocked to the woman they just passed by.

("Do you want to see her?" Source: Brock Street Gallery & Ed Feingersh)

The point of that story is this: I feel like Marilyn in that situation. Normally I don't pay much attention to how I interact with my surroundings when I eat alone. But lately I've felt poised and sure of myself, but in a very subtle way. Men at the bar were kind and asked me about my dessert. Servers came from inside to ask me if I was doing well. I know it's their job, and maybe it's the nature of that one restaurant but it made me feel good. And it's just not there, it's anywhere I go lately. While I have walls that need to be jackhammered with a quickness, I am enjoying being approachable.

It's not the dresses that hang right on my curves or the right pair of tall black boots that fit perfectly over my muscular calves. It's the way I carry them. The way I carry my men reflects on how successful these adventures will be.

And I have a secret. I'll call him Philly. It looks like I'll be having a taco date soon. While a great way to get my attention is with a 75% sale, tacos are the next best thing.

My Castle, My Rules...Right?

I apologize for my lack of posting. I've been incredibly busy with work, but have decided to take a break from fire hobby so I can focus on other projects. Yes, dating is one of those projects.

After my horrible incident with The Teacher, I thought it would be best to keep my options limited. I'm in between talking to The Trainer, and enjoying some rambunctious fun with Dragon. I still go on to the dating website and respond to messages when I can, but I haven't been as eager to do so. It's a strange game: if a man is too interested, I scale back, especially if he's seeking commitment right away. But if he doesn't make a move soon enough, I move on to the next one. While I don't have time to play any more games than I have already tackled, I surely have time to decide who I'd like to stick around...at least for a little bit.

But The Dragon. Mr. Doesn't Want Commitment. Mr. Texts Me First Everyday. Mr. I'd Like To Hope You Keep Me Around Awhile.

What?

For now, I'm calling it summer love (again, using that term incredibly loosely). I can't convince myself to fall and open the cage to my heart completely without truly understanding his intentions. While I own my castle, he set the rules for us when we started. He is in control of the game, and I'm following his rules. But when he breaks them, I don't feel confident that I should break them too.

Oh, and The Trainer? When Dragon is away, JSG will play. Our texting has gotten a bit heavier. More flirtatious. I guess it's okay to show him a little fun before he may likely have to move right?

Then a funny thing happened. I was at a party with some friends, but kept texting him. The banter between us is electric. Trainer stimulates my mind while Dragon finds other bone-shaking ways to stimulate me. Well, I apologized the next day and blamed my sassy mouth on too many drinks. 

I never did that with Dragon. Am I apologizing because it feels like cheating? That has to be it. Perhaps another part of it is that it isn't fair to The Trainer because leading him on. At least The Trainer was amused by it all. I kept being a tease, and he kept challenging me. I like this game. I just don't like the arena in which we are playing.

Then the guilt...oh the guilt. I was happy that Brother Bear decided to join me for dinner and a couple of drinks the other night, because what I really needed to do was verbally spout emotional diarrhea to someone who would give me real answers and not judge me. He was explaining more of his bad country song life, and I kept getting distracted by my own neuroses. Luckily, he is an incredibly patient friend.

I explained my guilt to him: how can I be with someone who doesn't want to be emotionally invested, but clearly his actions are showing otherwise? And is it okay for me to continue to pursue someone who connects with me emotionally at the same time, especially when he may not stay here for long?

Brother Bear said something that made it slightly better: whoever said you should be emotionally connected to one person at a time doesn't get it. It's okay to have feelings for more than one person.

He put on his feminist cap on and stood on his estrogen soapbox: women have enough pressure to be something for someone, so why make it so they only have to do it for one person at a time?

The female bartender's eyes widened when she heard this, and was grateful that it was said.

I went on to explain that I do have these feelings for Dragon, but I keep them locked up because I don't want to give all of myself to someone who says he doesn't want a commitment right now. Brother Bear pursed his eyebrows at me and said that he's just waiting for me to make that next call. A lazy move, he said, and I have to decide if it's worth it to keep him around.

Listen, Dragon. It's my castle. I like hanging out with you, and I appreciate you protecting the moat, but you have to let other people pass eventually.

As he put down his sandwich for a brief moment, Brother Bear sighed and looked me straight in the eye:

"Is there anything stopping you from walking away"

I was afraid he was going to ask that...

The immediate answer was no. Nothing is stopping me from going, "it's been fun, but go protect another castle." But I had to reassess why I wanted (want) to keep him around.

He's Dragon. He makes me feel safe. I trusted him with a part of me the other night that I wouldn't have shared with any other man, past or present. I'm bound to him because I keep wanting to see where this will go. His ambition is admirable. He has his life together. All he wants is some fun. And really, that's what I want too.

What it comes down to is that I really don't have to make a decision. Brother Bear told me I had options: have the "what are we" conversation and base what I'll do from there, continue to have salacious fun with him and go with the flow, or drop him like a bad habit and move on. Regardless, he said, there is no need for me to feel like I'm doing anything wrong.

And so we're back to where we started. The easiest way for me to handle this is to go with the flow. Dragon said it himself: he's in no rush (right...) and would like to let things unfold naturally. So far, they have. I'm in no rush myself to put a label on a can. The vapid thing is that it would be easier to call him my boyfriend as opposed to "this guy I met online and we have a connection but aren't going to call it a thing quite yet."

I am happy with just letting things ride for now. The only thing that makes this more difficult than usual is that I have someone else who's willing to ride with me too. So while Dragon is chilling in front of my castle, lazily keeping watch while I'm inside, men in tinfoil armor saunter up expecting to walk in.

But will Dragon really step aside...or fight to protect my castle? I clearly chose an ill-trained Dragon.

I'm not ready to fire him yet...for once, I need a man to be convenient for me, not the other way around. You guessed it. Dragon is convenient. Until he mans up and says wants more, this is all he's getting. I'm having fun playing house in my castle.

(Ok Dragon...be a good boy and JSG will think about keeping you longer)

 

Three to a Match

Okay so I was overdue for a bad first date.

The Teacher was a bust.

First of all, he sends me a text talking about our discussion earlier that day to meet at 8PM. Ok, that's understood. Less than five minutes pass where I don't respond and he texts me the elusive "K?"

Dude I'm busy! Clearly it couldn't wait...

So I drove 30 miles out of my way to meet him. He told me he'd be five minutes late. That five minutes quickly turned into 30 minutes. I told him what I was wearing and that I was outside the restaurant. Instead of walking up, he told me to meet him in the parking lot. You better believe I was thrilled to have an emergency text ready to be sent to my best friend.

(Imagine a brunette Bubbles from Trailer Park Boys)

JSG Dating Rule #1: If you're going to use a picture of yourself on your profile, please make sure it's you. It's courteous. However, this is my fault. He only had 10% of his profile complete, and I would later find out that he had only been on the site for a few days. Yes, he is a teacher and works at a gym. But he's also special. Yes, that kind of special. Don't get me wrong. I'm not one to down anyone with a mental disability, but the problem I had with this is that he completely lied. He lied about his picture AND was not upfront. I understand it's probably held him back from dating before but this was big for me. I was already trying to formulate an escape plan.

He had coke-bottle glasses, was short, and had a lisp. I had been duped.

So being the adventurer that I am, I decided to at least get one beer out of it. When the server arrived, I declined a menu and ordered the darkest beer; the kind that matched the hole in my soul for driving 30 minutes away from my turf for a bad date. I chugged it on an empty stomach. In all fairness, he was completely nice, and we had some good conversations. But...

JSG Dating Rule #2: Never mention a second date until you've made it through the first. After slugging back my beer, I ordered a water. I started to see a glimmer of hope when he was done with his beer, but he ended up ordering another. So I sat there and nursed my stale lemon water, trying to fight through the frustration. He mentioned that I would learn to love the water if I would join him and his family on their boat.

I almost choked on a lemon seed. He tried to convince me that the picture was him. Now he's trying to convince me that he could change my opinion.

After a few moments of forced conversation (and one awkward racist comment from him), I brought up the elephant in the room, and asked how long he had been on the site. That's when I learned that he had only been there for a few days. Then I did what I have never, ever wanted to do on a dating adventure: I became a hypocrite and lied. I told him I couldn't stay because I had to be up early the next day (I'm a night owl, obviously). And that I was only on the site to simply meet new people. I saw his pupils shrink behind his glasses, and his face drew long. He thought this was going well, and here I am crushing his spirit. I needed something stronger than murky lemon water at this point.

Before the check came out, I forced a smile, thanked him for a beer, shook his hand, and wished him good luck. Shuffling my tall boots, hoping it didn't look like I was running, I walked out of the door not looking back. This made...makes me feel awful. But I have always said my time was valuable. But here I was, a hypocrite like him. And I tried to justify it. Would any girl in my situation do the same thing?

Once I made it to my car, I called my best friend. Let me tell you about her a bit: blissfully married to my other best friend, both of whom I set up (I make better decisions for others than I do for myself). Bed time is almost always 9PM. She has no vices (she says she'll save those for me). However, she is my kindred spirit who will accept a phone call at 10PM if my life depended on it. This was one of those times:

"So it must have either been really awesome or absolutely horrible if you're calling me about the date. I know you said you had an emergency text ready, but wow"

I then spouted off at least ten run-on sentences explaining my situation. Her reaction ranged from fair sympathy to uproarious laughter. In hindsight, I'm glad I shared that laugh with her.

Through the long drive home, I considered the events of my day. Earlier plans for a movie with The Trainer fell through. At that moment with my windows down on the highway, I longed to be sitting in a cold theater rather than a loud bar with my horrible date. And Dragon was out of town for the day. He asked what I was doing later that night. Somehow it seems appropriate to add this:

I mentioned that I was out in a different part of town. Once again I became a hypocrite. We haven't labeled ourselves, so why is it his business to know who I was with? Maybe it's like Dating Darwinism: to survive in the dating world, we go through some tough spots in our evolution as mates. We maim others and garner new skills to survive. This is my way of protecting myself to ensure optimal survival.

 

After a few flirtatious texts, Dragon made his way to my side of town. I had every intention of staying home after the bad date. It was safer. I knew Dragon had homework, so I did the right thing after many hypocritical moments that night, and told him he should focus on getting his work done. Logic goes out the window after midnight, so he ended up staying over.

 

Yes, I let a man stay over. My dog wasn't happy about it. In fact she made a statement mess next to my bed as if to say "there can only be one. She's mine, not yours." Luckily he took that in stride.

 

We had multiple sheet pulling sessions that night. In between them we would laugh and tell stories to each other. In the early hours of the morning, we talked about everything that makes us happy. This is the first time I've felt that he let the seductive performer take a seat, and asked the softer, gentler side of me to dance. This is the connection I crave: for someone to appreciate the two of many sides that make up who I am.

 

Once again, I had to dodge mixed signals with Dragon. We laid there in between one of our trysts, caressing each other, and he said eyes widened and a playful smirk on his face:

"You know this is a big deal for me as someone who doesn't want to be tied down or committed"

If this isn't what we want, why are we here?  I'm not sure how much of that he meant, and honestly I simply ignored that statement. Everything he shows me seems to void those words. I'm not the one texting first. I'm not the one trying to make time for him. That's all him. It's not to say that I don't make an effort on my end, but he initiates it. Always.

Chemistry: An attraction that can't be quantified or explained.  We both don't deny that the chemistry isn't there. In one passage of Rachel Machacek's Science of Single, she talks to a woman named Dorothy who is in charge of dating seminars. She says that chemistry the bad boy, not someone that you need. Because really what girl doesn't enjoy a bad boy? The chemistry is damn-near intoxicating. And for now, I am find getting drunk from it.

So we held each other close. He fell asleep with his arms around me. Whenever I adjusted my position, he would too, never letting me stray too far from where he was. His hand would find my own, and hold it to would pull me near. I would turn and bury my face into the perfect nook of his shoulder, tracing my fingertips on his arms as he would gently caress my hair, kissing my cheek. If this isn't what we want, why are we here?

I am forcing myself to go with the flow. My friends try to break it down as simply as they can for me: if you're having fun, and he's game to play with you, then what's the problem? There should be no need to analyze this. If I'm happy and he's seemingly happy, then a problem doesn't exist. It sounds delusional to me, but maybe I can find a happy medium.

When morning broke the dawn, I met his widened gaze that greeted me good morning. I immediately reacted with a grin, nuzzled into his shoulder and said it back.

"I'm really glad a spent the night with you"

He said these words while he rested his chin against my chest. With a warm grin, I opened my arms and brought him as close as I could. I didn't want to say anything even though I shared the same sentiment. I only wanted him to feel my spirit aching to reach out to him. The heart and spirit that is a caged bird, ready to fly blindly into his sight.

There is a superstition dating back to WWI. It is considered a bad omen to light three cigarettes to a match. The enemy can spot the first spark. And then he'll trace it to a second spark. By the third, the location of the soldiers is clear, and they are open in an attack. I'm applying the same superstation to my dating life. It is nearly impossible to juggle three men, and now we're down to two. It's not a duel or a joust for my affection though. I'm not here to break any hearts. Whether it's with Dragon or The Trainer I would like something to work out.

But for now, I'm hiding the pack of matches. Safety first.

Fly, Butterfly, Fly

"The woods are lovely, dark, and deep. And I have promises to keep. Miles to go before I sleep. Did you hear me, Butterfly? Miles to go, before you sleep." - Robert Frost "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Call it whatever you want: My awakening. My chaos before my Age of Aquarius. But I have been a very busy girl!

My friends are growing weary of me...or perhaps they're becoming more amused. On the surface, it looks like I'm either a kid in a candy store, or I'm not being selective enough. I keep thinking that this new site I'm on is helping me understand what I will accept in a partner, and what I won't settle for.

Today my Other Mother came and helped me out at work. We started to talk about my dating life, to which I had to laugh off. It is becoming a part-time job trying to find the right shoe that fits. Before we could get incredibly in-depth with my adventures, my boss came in and gave me that familiar cock-eyed glance. It's another rare occasion where I'm in my usual uniform of boots and a dress, but my hair and make-up are done...and it's a nicer dress.

"Laundry day? No wait...you have a date!"

"...Yes, I do. Well kind of"

"With who this time? ...Wait, how do you kind of have a date?"

Other mother "Is it the cop?!" (Dragon)

"No...and he's a new guy I just started talking to him. But I might meet up with The Trainer to see a movie. So really, it's up to whoever asks me first. They're taking their sweet time pussyfooting"

If you could only see the eyebrows raise in unison. Before he went back to his office, he mumbled something about juggling guys now.

Of course Other Mother had questions and concerns. I told her that the easiest way to describe what's going on is that I'm in a "fly, butterfly, fly" stage. If the butterfly finds the right flower, it will stay there, enjoying the fragrance. There will be a symbiotic relationship for a few lingering moments. But the minute it sees another flower, or has had enough of the sweetness, it will move along, but always fleeting.

I don't believe I'm using these men. That's a crude way of phrasing it. I prefer the term "sampling."

You must be wondering what's going on with Dragon and The Trainer then...

The Dragon is giving me mixed signals. We spent time together the other day and let me know his intentions: he's not ready to settle down, and wants to take things slow. Okay fine...but the physical chemistry is so strong and enticing. I may or may not have given in. You guessed it: I gave in. I gave into the seductive prospect of playing dirty with a cop. And I regret nothing. But to take it slow after that? Realistically, it's not feasible. We even talked about how it was too soon, and we agreed that it was not the best idea. I am taking the I'll-only-text-me-if-you-do approach now. Besides, he says "I'm not ready to settle"; I hear "JSG, you can date other men." It wouldn't bother me the least bit if he decided to date other girls, or even fulfill other fantasies for the likeminded. I was right to be hesitant to get too emotionally invested too soon.

And now I hear screaming: DID YOU AT LEAST TALK ABOUT IT?! No, we didn't discuss that second part. But I'm really bad about waiting to have these talks. Texting about it is so informal. I don't want to be a cop-out (no pun intended). And, of course, safety first. Blog PSA: always use protection.

As far as The Trainer is concerned, there is a higher likelihood that he will not move. Here we go again...I told him that when he finds out for sure, I would like to go on another date with him. And he said that would be a good plan. He's another mixed-signal fool. Again and again, we say it's a bad idea for us to meet up because we both know there's a connection between us. It's not fair to either one of us to get caught up in feelings, and having to separate because life happens. But he sends me texts that he thinks are so innocuous. But here are two examples. He's the pink bubble:

 

I am such a horrible instigator. I'm a sucker, even. I keep falling for the text-back. Other Mother says the next time I meet him, I'll know. I'll either know that this isn't right for me and I should move on, or I'll remember that feeling we had on our first date, and it'll be lightning in my veins again.

Well...damn.

Naturally as an adventurer, my reaction to these actions is distractions:

Yep. Date all the men to sample what is out there and sort out the pieces later. Obviously, this may or may not work out well, but in true form, I'm willing to risk it.

I've been tirelessly (recklessly?) searching on the dating site, tweaking my profile to make me more desirable, and mostly dodging messages from strange men. I've written back a couple of men as well, but that's for later.

Reading that back, I can't help but keep thinking I'm doing it wrong. I may tire of this eventually. There is also a part of me that wonders why I'm so hellbent on this adventure. We all crave some sort of human affection. But it reminds me of a conversation I had with my friend, and voice of reason in the past. (Ed note: calling him Brother Bear from now on)

Brother Bear and I were sitting outside a friend's porch, commiserating over our love lives. His is like a bad country song; mine has been reminiscent of a rock opera lately. While we sipped on our beers and sat outside getting eaten by bugs and getting licked by Southern humidity, I told him what my biggest, recent issue with dating has been: they only like the one part of me they want to see.

The Adventurer and Dragon enjoyed my stage persona. While I tried to introduce the sweeter, more demure side of me, they pushed her aside and craved the fiery spirit that's in me. The Trainer saw the bare bones of me. The virgin who was just putting her toes in the murky dating water with the purest intentions. When he met the stage persona, he didn't balk. In fact, he appreciated both sides of me, which makes it worse because of his moving situation.

As Brother Bear winced in the lamplight, he inhaled his cigarette sharply. Glancing down to gather his thoughts, smoke escaped with his deep, Southern drawl:

"Look....you have a castle. This is your domain. You have a dog, you have a job, you take care of what needs to be done. So what if you wanna boink x, y, and/or z? Of if you want to date x and not y and z for a bit. That's up to you. What makes it okay is that you can detach yourself emotionally if it doesn't work out. You're putting yourself out there to find what you need.  

What makes you different is that you don't want a boyfriend. 'Boyfriend' means you want to settle. You want a partner who can ride dirty with you but give you affection, and there is nothing wrong with that." 

Nervously peeling the corners of the big label on my beer bottle, I looked up at him and found some sort of clarity. This is my house. I am making the rules, mostly as I go, but if you have ever seen the relationship/dating section in a bookstore, it is full of contradicting advice. There is no one way to do this right. And even if we think we're right, we have a good chance of getting it wrong. A lot! He does make a valid point. There has to be somewhere in this strange, ever-changing world of men my partner who can adore the vixen on the stage, but can appreciate my obsession with puppies and adorable, old couples.

So tonight, I'm meeting The Teacher, one of the men I recently talked to online. The nerve-wracking part of this is he has a minimal profile: nothing but a few stats and a nice picture. I'm meeting him on his turf, far enough from home. As usual I'm going into this with minimal expectations. What makes it different is that I'm now hoping that I don't continue this vicious cycle of low expectations, dating high, mixed signals, and dating all the men.

While I may be a performer, I'm not a juggler. My hand-eye coordination leaves much to be desired, as does my heart-brain coordination.

And who knows if I'll see The Trainer before he leaves, or if the Dragon will put his foot down and say he only wants to date me. Regardless, this is my castle. I create my own adventures.

If I Lay My Heart on the Table

Sometimes I wonder if I get in-depth enough here when I write. More often than not, I present to you my stories, full of analogies and zany emotional grievances.

But beneath my ribs of steel lies a heart, ready to burst at any given moment; a heart that murmurs nervously more than it beats steadily.

Too often I can't find a happy medium: should I allow myself to give into everything that turns those murmurs into heavy beats, or should I keep it in a cage where it's safe from anything that could touch it?

These are the questions that weigh on my mind. Because how do we know that we are ready to dive in and let go of the things we fear about love and the like? I can preach all day about having fun and not taking things too seriously, but maybe that is really my problem.

I haven't taken myself seriously. My friends can attest to this. I haven't totally considered how the actions of those I allow to walk by my side affect how I love.

But what if I did put my heart out on the table? What would someone say? Someone may examine and see the scar tissue of loves lost and not totally healed. Another might see the stitches I've haphazardly sewn myself because I was too stubborn to let anyone else touch the injured part of me. One person would definitely see the burns which became dark spots, the slowest to recover.

There is a lot going on in my heart, and I assure you not all of it is negative. The parts of my heart that have been hurt the most are the ones I've tried to heal by myself. And the parts of it that are still full of life, are what I want to keep the safest. Those parts are innocent and should not be punished for having good intentions. But experience tells you that exposing your heart means letting people treat it like a specimen...to let it be examined and discarded when it's no longer of use.

Falling in love is scarier to me than jumping out of a perfectly fine aircraft. I walk by myself at midnight and have little fear about what will happen to me. But to expose the ugly, dark side of myself? That's horrifying. There's a struggle when you understand that you can see the bright side of everything. However bright it may be, the light can blind you from seeing what's underneath. That's what happened with CSB when he told me we never were. That's what happened when I decided to continue seeing OGM even though I knew he would move.

I can be selfish and flakey. Rude and obnoxious. Inconsiderate and foolish. Needy and angry. Who wants to see that? I don't like wearing my heart on my sleeve. People who do annoy me. They can't bend and adjust to obstacles. As for me? I try to take the most logical approach to love.

What?

The logical way. Tactical. Having a Plan B in case Plan A doesn't work. To consider all the horrible things that could happen, and creating a mental survival plan because experience taught me that I will get hurt, and I will need to learn to stitch the wounds. Bandages unravel, so I must learn to cauterize.



(Source: zenpencils.com)

Every time I feel my heart try to rattle its cage, I think about the next best way to repair it. Because I know I will let it happen. Believe me, I know it's not the best way to live. And then there's this school of thought: fall in love because it happens naturally, not because the opportunity appears to present itself. Fall in love with the person, not with the act itself.

These thoughts wake me at night. Hell, they prevent me from sleep at night. The difficult part is to dismiss that I am the common denominator in why my relationships crash and burn. The end result is always the same: I learn and move on. Sometimes the end isn't so horrible. Other times, it's devastating.

I'm prattling on because what it comes down to is the biggest question: how much should I hold back from falling for someone? One of the mothers I adopted sympathized with me one time. She told me she falls fast, hard, and at one point very often. I tend to do the same. In an effort to protect what's left of my heart, I hold back. I put on this front that I can move on. It's not me, cupcake...it's you. My time is valuable and I don't want to waste it falling in love only to hit the ground hard. I've done it enough. I don't know how much more my heart can handle. I don't know how many other hands I can trust to touch it.

My burlesque mama is of a different school of thought: enjoy it, but never settle. If I enjoy it, that's how I get blinded by the deceptive rays of something good. It's this game I tend to lose very often.

And then there's TD.

• The way he kissed my shoulder the first time while he was capturing video of my dog acting like a fool for her toy.
• The way he melted into my back while we watched TV
• The way he leaned over, closer to hold my hand while we lay on the couch
• The way he traced my back with his hands and I felt a surge charge all the way from my toes and up to my lips where I met his

And then...

• The way I melt into his arms when he reaches for a hug
• The way I found the perfect nook on his shoulder to lay so I felt safe in his arms
• The way I look forward to hearing him tell me sweet dreams every night
• The way I smile when he asks me to let him know I walked safely into my home and my doors are locked
• The way I felt when he smiled at my excitable reaction to the end of my favorite show

It has been one week of this. Not to say that anyone should put a time stamp to matters of the heart, but when your heart is healing, it knows what it needs for nourishment. I wasn't expecting it this soon, and especially not from him.

Again it's just the way he is so open with me. By showing me he can be comfortable giving the caring part of himself to me this soon, it's like he's giving myself permission to do the same. I guess that's how it's supposed to be...

With bated breath and one eye open, I find the key to the cage. The hesitation is still there, but my hand is holding the key, resting in the lock, almost ready to release it into someone else's hands where I can trust that they will help me heal it so I don't have to do it on my own for awhile...

A Slow Burn

Ok, there I go throwing out words I don't mean again..."love." The least I can say is that things with TD have been well. The more we spend time together, the more I can see myself with him. Maybe not necessarily long term, but definitely longer than him being Mr. Right Now.

I deactivated one of my online dating accounts since I had better luck on the site where I found TD's profile. Truth be told, I haven't been on either one as much. Searching for men online became exhausting. And while I do enjoy all the attention, I've already singled out a few who I wanted to talk to already.

All the while, I am learning more about The Dragon. He's honest and upfront. That's pleasantly refreshing, and sometimes scary. He used to live in my neighborhood and told me horror stories about his time living there (which is why he insisted I texted him when I walked home alone). The few times we've walked my dog together, he is often armed and right by my side. I joked with him that it was a bit much, but I really can't argue with a cop. He also told me he doesn't want kids and was upfront that kids were out of the question with his future love of his life. That one shocked me. While my biological clock isn't ticking loudly, I'm in no rush for marriage, let alone kids.

I asked my best friend what her thoughts were about this. She basically said that one day my clock will likely tick, and if I'm still with him, to ask myself would if it be a deal breaker. However, she did like that he was upfront about it but for her, personally, it would make her not want to pursue any sort of relationship with him further. As for me, I am not one of those girls who insists on changing his mind or opinion on this. I'm taking an open-minded approach, but I know that it stings a bit. However, he is open to adoption, just not passing on his bloodline. Apparently there's bad blood there, but hey, who am I to judge?

It's these things that make me examine myself more so than it is to study him. He's incredibly open. On this dating site where we met, the main page has a question that asks "What is the most private thing you are willing to reveal about yourself." More often than not, the answer is the same: ask me anything. I'm an open book.

Here's how men I've encountered approach that statement:
Ask me what I want to do in bed with you because I'm 100% DTF
Don't ask me questions because I'll totally talk about myself the entire time
Let me tell you my entire life story so much so that it scares you away and kills the chase

But when he talks, he speaks from a genuine place and leaves the floor open for me, as it should be. However, many times I wince and cower, mostly because I'm so taken aback by it. It's truly attractive, and I can definitely appreciate it. I'm making steps to be more open myself, though I feel like a dog backed into a corner.

Many moons ago, my ex was one who wanted me to say everything on my mind and in my heart. It was like trying to force feed a stubborn baby. I would get so frustrated, depressed, and weary because the second part of his request involved criticism, rolled eyes, angry interruption. Naturally, this made me gun shy in every sing relationship since.

So I picked up some dangerous fiery toys, jump out of a plane, and learn to shoot a gun as a way to release any sort of confrontation and talking about feelings that is required of me. Without these props, I'm left vulnerable and open. I hate that. Spending time with TD is like that scene in Big Fish. Edward senses that time stops when he sees Sandra, and peels away everything in the chaos so he can appreciate what he finds beautiful about her. TD doesn't realize that he's slowly helping me understand that it's okay to reveal who I am and what I have to say. Instead of creating a scene where I'm in charge of the direction, I can let him put down my props...and he can get a real response from me.

I've also found myself shying away from my usual song and dance. Though I adore my friends, I have spent more time by myself and with new people, dates and otherwise. And yes, I've already been called out on it. Lions hate when you dangle fresh meat in their faces without dropping it.  I recently had a conversation with one of them, explaining that there was a little guilt because I haven't made an effort to get the gang together, and that I haven't mentioned TD as much as other men I've dated, let alone invite him to join our group when we go out.

"Because you like him. And you want to spend time with him, one person with another, enjoying each other's company with minimal interference. And that's okay."

At first I thought it was because part of me felt embarrassed by his constant sinus issues, or the fact that my friends can participate in some unsavory activity and bringing a cop means bringing the wettest blanket in the stack. But my friend was right: I like enjoying this time with him. It doesn't have to be constant dinner dates, drinks at a bar, or crazy misadventures all the time. What makes me happy and content is this slow burn and desire to be with each other and to embrace this person we spend time with. TD said it himself: he was tired of going on dates with younger girls with no direction. Well...you know my requirements.

This past week, I've had an awkward screaming conversation with him at a bar, ice skated and made fun of him for driving his patrol car to the rink, watched my favorite show twice with him, and lay in his arms late a few nights. These are things that I haven't made much mention to friends. Instead, these are moments that I care to share only with him. Yes, I am writing down these words for all to see, but it's deeper than that. His openness, drive to spend time together despite his abnormal schedule, his ambition, his warmth have made me feel singled out in a crazy, convoluted world of dating.

This is one case where I can truly believe that it's okay for him to gently put my guard down, especially because I have such a difficult time doing it on my own. And I don't share that with just anyone. The fact that he has cracked the barrier speaks volumes. He doesn't realize that yet.

But I'd like to stay with him long enough so I can show him how much that means to me.

Fire & Ice

The day after the seemingly disastrous meeting with The Dragon, I was still pretty optimistic.

Because of unpredictable weather, we decided to forgo a Harley ride and opted to go ice skating instead (his idea). I jokingly said that he's not allowed to laugh if I bust my ass...and I will be nice when he busts his. He said he'd make no promises. Charming, I thought.

It was about to be disastrous again. Rain makes people suddenly forget how to function, especially when driving is involved. What would normally be a 15 minute drive became 45 minutes because of a major pileup on the highway. Maybe I could just turn around...


Alas, I ended up at the skating rink. To my surprise, TD had his own pair of skates. He apparently forgot to mention he's a former hockey player. Well...there goes me trying to look all cute and legit on an ice rink. As we were lacing up, we made small talk about family and friends, our jobs...the usual first date chatter. We also joked that this is what was supposed to happen the night before. This is much better, I said. I knew from the few words that we could hear and say at the club that he was worth getting to know.

I'm finding that he's a bit of a walking contradiction. There are some things that would normally make me wince, but others that make what I think is strange forgivable.

Let me tell you a tale about a cop who enjoys fruity drinks.
He played hockey, but has the worst luck with his health.
A cancer survivor who wanted to join the military but they can't accept him because somehow cancer is a liability.
That's how he ended up in law enforcement.
A bad case of appendicitis almost put him out of work entirely.
He knows how to fly a plane.
Because her family disowned her, he adopted his friend as his sister so she would know the love of family still existed.
While he sniffles from allergy issues, he owns a cat that looks like Hitler.
A Dexter fan who plans on going to law school, he takes vacations regularly and hopes to own many properties over his lifetime.
In the free time that he's not trying to win me over, he likes to tinker with elaborate security systems and create them.

Wait...what?

There were many moments in our conversation skating side by side on the ice that I wondered what the hell I was doing with my own life. The question of, "other than fire what do you do for fun" is always an awkward one. I always feel like I don't have time for other things, aside from the expected adult responsibilities.

It really was befuddlingly charming. After awhile on the ice he chuckled and said that it was highly amusing that he took the "badass fire girl" to the ice skating rink. It's true. I was out of my element. I felt somewhat forced to account for myself with some of his questions, like what else is there to my life. I didn't have implements to deploy and distract the dragon. Again, he kept trying to peel these layers to find out who I am at my core.

Then I thought of one of those two-hour conversations I had with Indy. He likes to read and understand people.

"Not everyone likes that. Some people like to have their secrets, and not be found out"

Well...damn. It's true. I keep thinking that I've made peace with my ghosts of dating past. There's still a brick wall in front of me when it comes to love, but I'm slowly finding the weaker spots to poke through, and remove that which protects me. It's not to say that I don't want to reveal every part of me to a lover, nor do I want to show the most perfect side of me all the time. It's just wondering how much of me should I reveal right now?

Let's face it: I showed the endearing, intelligent side to Indy and The Trainer, the wild child to The Adventurer, and with The Dragon...It's like unraveling ribbon in water. Slowly, hesitantly, but with the right force, willingly.

But stepping toe first on the ice seems like a good start. Later that day after a few errands, he asked if it would be okay if he watched a show we both like together. It happened to premiere that night. I was slightly taken aback (who invites themselves into my life?!), but I agreed. Before that, he suggested since I was on his side of town, to meet his cat and see his place.

Okay...he's a cop. He can't possibly try anything fresh. I mean, seriously, he drove his patrol car to the skating rink. It's not a front. But I think he was trying to reveal himself as this upstanding, adjusted adult who is worthy of my time. No secrets. Dude, I have stuffed animals everywhere, laundry in each room of my house, and my house smells like dog. I can't be this great girl he's been searching for.

He has a sweet cat, and his place is well-put together, security system and all. The lights were all motion-activated, so each room he gave me a tour of immediately lit up. You're damn right I called him out on how geeky it was...kindly, of course.

After the tour, he said he could just follow me to my place. He was walking towards his patrol car and jokingly told me not to speed. Telling me not to do something is the fastest way to ensure I do, I said. He gave me a smirk before getting in. On the drive to my place, I wondered if I would eventually get to see a wild side. Pilot, motorcyclist, cop? All the while he was mild, so I thought maybe it's okay for me to peel some of his layers too as much as he's tried to see all that's in me.

He really does have a strange schedule. I guess it's the life of a cop. After my immediate freak out at the Dexter season premiere, he asked if I wanted to have a late dinner. Why not, I said.

Same inner dialogue: I kept wanting to unravel his inner layers and much as he wanted to figure out what's beyond the "badass fire girl who walks home by herself."

We sat outside at a local restaurant, teeming with locals wanting to grab a beer on a late Sunday evening. There were talks about where we wanted to travel and about his goals. Whenever I talk to someone ambitious like that, I feel slightly inadequate. My goals don't extend beyond wanting to be the best version of myself so I can bring light into the world. He asked why I hadn't considered home ownership before and I told him I basically didn't want to get tied down. There is so much out there. Obviously that speaks for more than just home ownership. Obviously, commitment is risk, and if you know my track record, I'm really horrible at it.

The reasons I restarted this adventure is to discover what's out there; if there is someone wild enough to run with me. What's amazing is that I keep finding that there are men who can, and the ones who I think can run beside me in a blaze of glory actually get overshadowed or left behind. While The Dragon has revealed to be fairly mild, the dangerous side that I tend to relish in men takes a peek behind the curtain.

We've been on a couple of dates since, and I often the humbling question: am I forcing myself to like him? Think about it: look at your most recent significant other. There are bound to be things you cannot stand. I mean, where is the line between being nit-picky and accepting things as they are.

My burlesque mommy is screaming in my ear again: Don't settle

Regardless I like getting to know him. To study him, as Indy would say. I'm accepting that not every date or every guy I talk to is going to have that immediate rush within me where I just "know" this guy is it. TD and I warming up to each other. The Trainer and Indy took their sweet time. Things moved way too well and too fast with The Adventurer. But I can appreciate this pace with TD. Really...I think he is good for me. I tend to forget that part about dating.

After all was said and done, he walked me to my doorstep and gave me a gentle first kiss. Innocent even. Laying in bed thinking about all of the day's events I could sincerely say I was pleased. I never believed that true love or the like had to be immediate, though childhood fairytales would like to encourage us otherwise.

Some people say you can't rush destiny, and that these things should happen naturally. Others warn that hiding yourself from the possibilities is detrimental to one's self, and that it's in our nature to be curious and discover the possibilities.

But this is my adventure: a hardened heroine with the best of intentions seeks the prize of meaningful affection. During the course, hearts are slayed, and she suffers minor defeats. Once in a while, she finds a worthy suitor who she believes can help her find the prize.

That's a good fairytale. A great fairytale tells a story of how the suitor helps her win and fights the good fight with her...

And encourages to fight with what's in her. To defeat the monsters and fears within her.

Maybe The Dragon can be her guide.

Do you Wanna Dance?

So...The Dragon may not be the most appropriate name

(You're a lizard...)

Yeah...I immediately thought I broke my Good First Date streak. Don't get me wrong. He was incredibly nice. Is incredibly nice. But I didn't get the impression that he could really hang out and keep up. The most hilarious part? That is his whole bit on his profile: he apparently has a zest for life like I do, is a positive person, and is looking for someone to keep up with him.

Okay, well...to be fair. It technically wasn't a first date. It was more of a meet-and-greet.

You heard me. A meet-and-greet. He recently moved into a home, and had a housewarming party. Well, guess who I met. Yup...a party.

At a dance club.

On a Saturday night.



(Honey, this club is for the cool kids who try too hard)

You can tell I was thrilled already. But I will leave it to nerves. I was kind of stuck with his friends while he got me a drink. They all avoided eye contact with me, so I just stood there swaying to some music while they bonded. Normally, I can adapt in these situations. But I felt like I was at a zoo, being monitored. It wasn't just his friends, but the entire club.

This is the place to be on a Saturday night. All the cool kids who happened to hear about my neighborhood make pilgrimage here till the wee hours of the morning. My crowd hangs in dark, smoky bars; I was face-to-shoulder with frat boys and girls who can't hold their liquor (literally and internally). Bright lights kept flashing, and the brick wall showed random "avante garde" film clips. Because really, who doesn't like to see 1950's mock PSAs about the danger of driving?

He finally showed up with my drink. There is nothing worse that being in a crowded club, music blasting, and not relating to anyone around you. He smiled and asked if I wanted to dance.

Why the hell not? I at least get a drink out of it...

He is adorkable. Yes, he is still very good-looking, slim build, and had a genuine gaze. They weren't the kind of hungry eyes that were peeling away the layers I wore; they wanted to peel away to see what kind of girl agrees to meet him and his friends at the most crowded club in town for something resembling a date. We did the awkward elbow dance to find room, had a girl spill my drink with her clumsy dancing, and awkwardly laughed the whole time. I think he felt bad. I know I did. But being the good Girl Scout, I made the best out of the situation.

Here's where it gets really funny. I have a friend (and fellow reader) who has a history of bad dates. And it's always entertaining to hear. She happens to frequent this club, and I saw her while I was doing the "make room" dance. She pulled me close and said she was on a bad date and was feeling really buzzed.

...please don't let this be an omen, I thought.

After I wished her luck (and introduced her to The Dragon), we parted with his friends, and somehow found a bar area in the back where we could actually talk without screaming at each other.

I was sweaty, and smelled like warm, sweet cider. I know it sounds like the beginnings of a bad Skinemax flick, but really it was simply gross. Both with a heavy, awkward sigh, we finally started to talk. He asked how I know about the Tail of the Dragon. I could have made an elaborate story about how I love riding on a motorcycle. But no. I told him I knew about it from my ex. As if it wasn't awkward enough, I start our first non-screaming conversation about my jerk ex. But...then again, he didn't know he was a jerk.

And then my ethnicity. Surprisingly this doesn't come up a lot in dates. I told him Filipino, and asked me to guess his. To be 100% honest I couldn't figure it out. He's half Puerto Rican and half Irish. Damn that's kinda hot. He also said he's a cop, which means he wears a uniform, which automatically means he's hot. Right? Girl logic is ridiculous sometimes.

We joked around for a bit, people-watching fools as we finished our lukewarm drinks. At best, he was adorable and fairly geeky. It wasn't that same explosion I felt with the last few dates. But the more we talked and laughed, I started to warm up to him. Finally, one of his friends came to the bar saying that they wanted to leave. The Dragon was their pilot apparently. I smiled awkwardly at his friend as he made his way up to round the group. The Dragon ask if I wanted to ride on his bike sometime. I gave him a very diplomatic answer: that sounds like fun.

...he meant the next day.

Oh? I should be elated, but I was more or less stunned. I wasn't 100% feeling him, but...free drink? Free bike ride? These are fun things that I like.

So I agreed. Elbowing our way through the front of the bar, we finally found the door, and all the fresh air hit us like a brick wall. I could finally breathe. If it wasn't enough that this place was somewhere I would never go in, the awkwardness of meeting a guy face-to-face after chatting online along with his friends was plenty to stifle me on a Saturday night.

After I thanked him for the drink, we hugged. We would figure out the next-day details later. As I started to walk towards my house, I heard a small group go WOOOOOO!!!!!!!

....later I found out that was meant for him after talking to me.

After walking my dog, I checked my phone. He sent a text asking if the walk home was safe. It really did make me smile. It was a very kind gesture. I get to the point living in the neighborhood that I do, that I'm street savvy. I don't feel invincible, but mostly aware of my surroundings, and how to be prepared (hello, keys intermingled in my fingers?). I told him I did and thanked him for making sure I made it home.

Then we chatted via text for another hour.

This guy was worth another chance. And I'm glad I took the time to meet him in a less crowded, and kinder environment than I did the night before.

I often say that I liken people to experiences from which I need to learn. He may be on his way to teach me a worthwhile lesson about myself.