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.
Quivering with anticipation (or hormones), I woke up the other morning, bleary-eyed but excited about my date with The Adventurer (TA) that night.
I remembered I could be an attractive girl, and put on a grey dress that hugged my curves. It had 3/4-sleeves, and hit above my knees. As always, I paired that dress with black boots with a blue zipper in the back of them. This is my uniform: a dress always paired with boots. This was also what I avoided on my first date with TA. In a way I'm glad because he had those damn hungry eyes. He could wait for that, I thought. So I broke the norm, and put on some make-up and did my hair before walking out to greet the day.
As I got into work, my boss sensed something different. Usually I'm wearing work pants, a blouse (fine, a flannel shirt), and boots. "What's going on? Look at you! You look great!" he exclaimed, with that mint julep Southern drawl.
Eyebrows raised he said allright then, and stopped prying. Before anyone blows any whistles out there, my boss is awesome; the right mix of fatherly figure, motivator, and jokester. This conversation could have happened with anyone.
Anyway...
I continued to slave at my desk, wandered to different departments, not hearing a word about where I was going tonight. The damsel in me figured he's the man who asked me out in the first place. I'll let him make the plans. It's strange to say it since I do take pride in holding my own and taking care of myself, which brings me to Queen B and her girls:
Finally the text I was waiting for all day: he remembered (good job) my favorite restaurant and he wanted to go because he had never tried it. I said I'd meet him there.
Later on, I walked towards this place that with the best of intentions, but apprehensive about my needs. Not those needs but...you know? NEEDS.
By no stretch of the imagination am I a prude, but I'm definitely not a girl who hits it and quits. But it had been awhile. I carried a hip-rolling strut with my stride. Maybe, if it did happen, it would be okay....
Once I opened the door to the restaurant, I was greeted with a smile and those eyes. They wandered up my figure happily before our hostess led us to the table.
This restaurant is my favorite for many reasons: the large windows made for people watching, the live music (which happened to be going on that night), and of course the food. We barely browsed the menu before he decided to surprise me again. I told him I usually get The Zen of Zin wine. I figured he knew of it from his past job as a liquor salesman.
"Want to just get a bottle?"
A bottle? Most guys just buy you a singular drink with dinner, right? Then again, I don't know much about going out on dates. Since he was in, I was in. The scenery was completely forgettable for me. What sticks out for me is just how much we talked and laughed...the way his elbows rested on the table, hands clasped just gazing at me with those blue eyes. The way I could never figure out if I should part my hair one way or the other, but settling on twirling and behind my ears instead. By the time I came out of my environmental euphoria, there was a bottle of wine down, half the patrons paid out, and the acoustic stylings of overdone covers muted.
"Do you want to go on an adventure tonight?"
The Zen was speaking, and I was its mouthpiece. Eyebrows raised, he stammered to get out an answer. I suggested there's a place we can sing karaoke, and we can get free shots each time we sing.
Like a politician answering the hard-hitting questions, he said it's a go. We still had time before the club opened its doors, so we walked up to the bar for a beer.
Damn. Here we go again. I reached into the crevices of my college-aged mind: is it liquor before beer you're in the clear? I've mixed before...and I walked here. I'm perfectly fine. The Zen said so.
I ordered first while he browsed the beer menu. When he asked what I ordered, he said he was getting the same thing. It's like that moment when you find out you have something it common. It's that warm coating that surrounds your childlike heart before it rushes to your face, forcing an uncontrollable smile. That is how everything has felt with him. It was easy for me to be, well, me: fire-spinning, sailor-mouth, smartass-yet-demure me.
There's a catch here too, by the way.
My friends are obviously my army. When I have a date with a new, I tell them where I am. Florida prides itself on hurricane preparedness. This is no different. I told my friends that I was bringing him to karaoke, and thought he'd like them and would fit into our circle.
Recall that warm coating around the heart? The same feeling applies to knowing, really knowing, that I could bring him around my friends, and it wouldn't be weird. It wouldn't be him checking his phone while our crew gets into inside jokes. It wouldn't be constant apologies for their behavior. Jax Single Girl has discovered another need: If you wanna be lover, you gotta get with my friends.
We made our way outside and he offered to drive. That and I would be a good co-pilot since he had never been to this place before. As I started to give him directions at the red light, he reached for my hand. TA just goes for it. And he gazed at me, starry-eyed and happy to go on an adventure.
This club is where the theater kids go to let loose and sing their happy hearts out. It's also where the BDSM set go for a good gothic time, and where my fire troupe often performs. I greeted the bartender by first name, which surprised TA. Yes, cupcake...I apparently know all the bartenders in town. So we ordered our first round, and I started to flip through the song lists.
"By the way, you have to sing since I brought you here."
This time the beer decided to be my ventriloquist. He started to laugh and agreed. I chose a song and walked it up to the DJ, leaving TA unattended. It bothered him that I wouldn't tell him what song I chose, in a fun way of course. And he remembered that I usually sing No Doubt. He rattled off a few songs, but he couldn't get what I chose right. It seemed to fit my mood, so I chose Bathwater.
A couple of songs before I got onto the stage, my comedian friend entered the bar. Their conversations flowed naturally, which made me very happy. Everything was just perfect. TA left for a moment, and my friend looked over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't within earshot.
"He's dreamy!"
Thanks, pal. I think so. I should also point out this is Glitterbeard's brother. He's also one of two of my amazing army that showed up. My blue-haired siren joined us later, enjoying the show with us.
So I sang to my heart's content, and he loved what he heard from me. His set followed mine, and apparently we were going the distance. I wasn't sure if I could handle anymore innuendo that night, which is saying a lot considering the company I keep. My bartender had already poured his free shot, and I was courteous to wait till he was done with his set before I took my own. With a sigh of relief that he was done singing, I congratulated him on his performance (...speaking of innuendo), and he cheered to a night of adventurous fun. There's that warm coating on my heart again...
But we were stuck together by hands touching, my knees against his, and his other arm around my shoulder, letting it graze my back from time to time.
The night was approaching early morning, so we decided to pay up and leave after my second song. TA said he didn't remember starting a tab. My independent streak was showing, and I told him I left my card at the bar. The next thing I know, TA is walking up there, handing me back my card, and paying for our tab. This guy...I must remember to thank him again.
We made our way back to my place, and he parked in my driveway. I thanked him for another awesome night. With willing eyes and smiles on our faces, we met with a kiss. Wow, he's a good kisser. We're still kissing...did the seat just lean back?
Needless to say, he was allowed inside my house that night. A lady should never say too much, but I will say that he was an attentive lover. It was intense. Clearly, we were both thinking about this since we first met. I guess that's part of the explanation for chemistry, and the way it works with two people.
After all was said and done, he told me he couldn't believe he met me. We kissed good night and I sent him home.
I can't believe I almost didn't give you a chance. I internally apologized for ever referring to him as Beer Man.
I had to hide my grin the next day. It was permanently tattooed on my face. One lost wallet, another (pious) visit to my home, and another kiss later, he is coming to my next fire show.
I like this adventure. I like it a lot. Yes, it's obvious I engage in risky behavior, but matters of the heart are risky too.
Letting the warmth fill the holes in my heart, and harden it sounds like a greater risk than bringing a guy on the second date home. Like every adventure I've had, it was totally worth it.
More than just a conquest, he is definitely worth it.
One thing that I'm learning in this new adventure: Talking to two men at the same time is painfully difficult. It's a fun challenge, but I have to treat this like I'm studying for a final. For the last couple of days, I checked Indy and Beer Man's profiles, reviewed, and made sure to commit certain parts of their profiles to memory so I don't goof up in any of our conversations.
Because how embarrassing would it be to bring up Beer Man's time in Brazil? Oh that's not right...my bad. And honestly it feels like cheating. I do not like cheaters. In many ways I'm an extremely non-judgmental person. But once I discover someone is a cheater, it leaves a certain distaste in my mouth. Yes, I understand that people change, but it's like a stain on their foreheads sometimes.
All of that aside, I have to go with the assumption in these men's profiles that they are indeed single and unattached. Can we get a Single Ladies reference in here?
That's better.
Alas, before my date with Beer Man the other night, I was getting dolled up after a long conversation with Indy. I was pretty over the moon about talking to him, but had minimal expectations for Beer Man. Obviously, I gave him a horrible nickname.
My survival instincts were on high alert. I let my friends know where I was. My emergency text was at the ready. I stayed close to home. I kept my appearance realistic and low on sex appeal. I knew how to hold my keys intertwined in my fingers in case I needed to be defensive.
Jax Single Girl was more prepared than an Eagle Scout.
So I walked out of my door late at night, and headed toward the bar that we were supposed to meet. This is one dating rule I broke. I understand it's pretty normal to meet at a bar on the first date. However, I like to keep my mind alert and ready when meeting someone new. After texting him what I was wearing I met eyes with him, smiled, and said hello as we walked into the bar.
This is the kind of bar the cool kids talk about. And by cool kids, I mean hipsters. Black-rimmed glasses, flannel, men-in-girl-pant hipsters. There is a bathtub in the bar when you first walk in, and most drinks are served in mason jars, a subtle ironic failure and jab against the redneck heart of Jacksonville.
He looked better than his pictures. Don't get me wrong here. Looks aren't everything, but when you're dating someone based on an online profile, they better be presentable. Beer Man is a tall brunette with a baby face.
Somehow the conversation came easily. I know I've said that about other dates, but it was different this time. I jumped right in as if I was talking to my best of friends. When you are with your true friends, you don't hold back who you are. There is no surface to scratch. I'm pretty positive I said one or two four-letter words in my first few sentences to Beer Man. Luckily he didn't mind.
It also turned out that one of my best friends from high school happened to be there with her husband. I ran up to her right after we ordered our drinks, and gave her a hug. She awkwardly pulled back and with her inquisitive face started to ask if I was on a date. Through clenched teeth and a forced smile I told her that this was a first date and that we had just walked in. She locked her eyes to mine as if to say "Good luck and vaya con dios." She later told me that I looked happy, which was good to know.
I don't know if it was because I wanted to force the time to go faster in case this was a bust, or if I had a brief moment of bravado, but I started to ask the standard first date questions about himself one right after the other: where do you work, do you like it, where did you go to school, do you like this bar, etc.
I think I'll blame the supermoon for the fastidious speed dating interview I gave him...
But he ran with it, and it seemed to work well. As we were keeping the conversation flowing, we noticed the bar patrons next to us laughing as the sound of metal was dinging against the bar shelves. There is a ring toss game where you take rings of mason jars, throw them at the shelves, and if you get a ring around the bottle of liquor, you get a free shot of it.
Here's how I knew he was an adventurer much like me. (Ed. Note: change his nickname from Beer Man to The Adventurer...not to be confused with Indy). With a charming, mischievous smile, he proclaimed that we should do it. Before I could complain about my short stature and T-Rex arms, he was already asking the bartender for the rings. We both failed miserably, but were laughing the entire time. After the round of Redneck Ring Toss, we started to talk about if we'd be happy with the shots we could have won.
I explained I was a whiskey girl, and told him about Fireball: a cinnamon cup of goodness. He explained that he used to be a liquor salesman and tried that, and is also a fan of red wine. That was one of many things we had in common, I would find out. I told him that my drink of choice lately was a Fireball shot dropped in a glass of cider. His eyes got big and another tight-lipped smile grew on his face.
"The night is young. I don't have anything to do and I imagine you don't either. Let's go to your bar and try some Fireball with cider there."
Is this what it's like to date me?
CSB was an adventurer too, but I was just along for the ride. There was a sense of confidence with The Adventurer that he could be trusted with my sense of risk and abandonment...at least for that night. Like a willing Bonnie to his Clyde, I said it sounded like a good idea. His charisma and machismo weren't offensive. It truly came off as genuine confidence.
So we walked the busy streets a few blocks down to "my bar." That's how quickly conversation flowed. I told him that my usual bar is a hole-in-the-wall, dank, dirty, smoke-filled space. He seemed okay with that. I also had a sense of guilt because I wondered if it was bad that I "had" a bar. I didn't want to come off as a daily drunk, but at the same time I remembered what I told myself earlier: I'm here for fun. This is just a date.
I took him to the back entrance, which I playfully chimed was where the regulars go. We walked up to the bar, and I was greeted with my first name, followed by one of the bartenders yelling, with her emphysema-riddled voice "YA BACK AGAIN, HUH?!" I may or may not have been there twice earlier that week. I stuttered a laugh and sheepishly met eyes with The Adventurer. This was the first of many times this night where he had hungry eyes. Yes, Patrick Swayze-type, jump-in-my-arms-in-the-lake-Baby, Dirty Dancing hungry eyes. He likes this about me. And guilt again. I don't want to be that girl who he thinks he can always take to the bar, get drunk, and get lucky. In his defense, he was a total gentleman that night.
After explaining the Fireball concoction to another bartender, I took out my card to offer to pay. The Adventurer stopped me and said he'll get it. Promising, I thought. So I handed him his glass and asked if we should raise them for anything.
"Here's to an already awesome night!"
He was right. We locked eyes with sincere ear-to-ear grins.. I probably could have broken that glass out of sheer excitement. I really was having a blast.
We sat at a high-top, chatting about movies we liked and the music from the jukebox. We really had a lot in common. He then recalled in a message I sent that day that I loved this bar because of Big Buck Hunt. There is nothing more satisfying than releasing rage after a day of dealing with absolute nonsense and stress, and shooting Bambi's dad...and his little critter friends too. He got up, got some cash, and put money in the machine. It's very important that I emphasize that none of this was asked. He just did it. He left me with no choice but to completely own him at this game.
To me this was a bit of a test: I get mouthy and angry if I don't get all three bucks each game. Even as I was swearing and getting jumpy with this neon-orange rifle, he was amused and enjoying it. That was so telling because I kept thinking I was out with my closest friends. I wasn't hiding. I wasn't trying to be this demure vision on an online profile. I wasn't forcing intelligent conversation about philosophy and reason.
I was having a good time being myself around someone who was pretty damn fine with it. Bless it.
After that round, he asked if I wanted another drink. Playing it safe, I said a beer was fine. Again, I didn't want to get too drunk and lose all inhibition. He came back, and proceeded to put money in the bowling video game. I'm horrible at bowling in real life, so this was not going to be my name. He won fair and square. And laughed about how bad we did at Redneck Ring Toss. Clearly, we were finding our niche in both bar games and in the dating game.
As we made our way back to the bar, we sat facing each other. I had another Cher Horowitz moment as I did many moons ago. "Look at that body language. Legs crossed towards each other. That is an unequivocal sex invite!" It was approaching last call somehow, and there was a lot of space at the bar. But my knees touched his, and I didn't budge. He didn't either. As we finished another beer (he keeps surprising me with his ninja skills), he was listening me narrate a story of sorts. But those eyes...they're not the kind of eyes that you first notice when you look at someone who has nice eyes. But they were intense. He would lean on the bar, elbow bent, hand cupping his head, staring at me with those hungry eyes. I wasn't feeling uncomfortable, but like everything else about him, it kept surprising me.
When Emphysema Emily yelled last call, we peeled ourselves off the barstools and started to walk closer to our homes. I don't remember what we were talking about (another reason I'm hesitant to drink on a first date), but the next thing I know, he grabbed my hand and held it. Did he understand that quickly that hand holding is a big deal for me? I didn't mind. In fact, it was a nice gesture. Instead of protecting me from monsters under the bed, he was protecting me from surly bar patrons at an ungodly hour.
As we approached the bar I brazenly asked if he was going to walk me home or if it was time to say good-bye. It would be a gentlemanly thing to do, he explained, to walk a lady home.
In the sea of pubs and hipster bars, there is a gay bar on the corner. I heard an effeminate voice drunkenly scream my name. My eyes widened to see my darling queen in his glitterbearded glory reaching out for a "hey girl."
I hugged him and greeted him while his partner, also in drag, pulled me close and drunkenly told me he loved me and fawned over me for a few moments. All the while, The Adventurer standing by, amused with hands in his pockets.
"AY! WHO IS THAT MAN RIGHT THERE GIRL?!"
Sheepishly again, I told him I was on a date. My queen is a mama bear who looks out for me and anyone he loves. To my surprise, as he has been good at all night, he walked up to my darling glitterbeard and introduced himself. I could see in my periphery, Glitterbeard sizing him up. I didn't want to keep them from whatever after party they had, so I said that The Adventurer was walking me home.
"YEAH, WALK MY GIRL HOME AND TAKE CARE OF HER! LOOK AT THEM HOLDING HANDS BEING CUTE AND SHIT! GO ON, GIRL!"
Paraphrasing, but that's really the gist of it. This date, was an adventure for sure.
He walked me up to my doorstep, and I gave him a long, awkward drunken hug (fine two) goodbye.
As I lay in bed, reflecting on this crazy journey of juggling multiple men, I grinned. This could be a good thing. I have always been a risk taker, and that night wasn't any different. I'm glad I gave him a chance, booze and all.
My best friend laughed at me one recent morning and said in so many words, you are so gung ho with everything in your life, but why are you so cautious and weird when it comes to dating?"
I guess I must have had donut-glazed eyes and have been gliding around in a hazy disposition when she saw me. My heart is still a'flutter with the possibilities of my adventure with CSB. I find myself giggling when I usually have a boisterous, sea-parting laugh. I'm watching romantic French movies on my small 25-inch screen TV (reading subtitles is difficult on such a small screen!). I have been listening to songs that send lightning through my veins because I want to duplicate the way I feel whenever I'm with him (romantic heroin? Ugh, that sounds awful...).
Let's be real here: I haven't exactly taken the straightest path to dating enlightenment. And I do think about it often. What DOES make me so scared of plunging all-in for love? Anything new is scary, and that's exactly what this experience is. We haven't had "that talk" of what we are, but I have made it clear that I'm not some girl he can just hook up with and leave me on the side, which he responded well to on more than one occasion. Breakfast after sex is usually a good indicator of being in some semblance of a relationship, right? I like where this is going, so why force it?
This is why falling in love is so scary for me. Of course I understand there is always a risk in love. Yes, that little, one syllable four-letter word:
Love.
I've accepted that I have fallen in love with a man I barely know. How can my heart know that this is something good, but my brain is saying, slow your roll, homegirl? You're being foolish! Yet we can make love all night and go out to breakfast in the morning and continue to enjoy learning about each other. Do you understand how awesome that is? And because that's awesome, I'm afraid something as silly as my insecurity about this situation will ruin it. Does that make sense? Because I have to ask myself too if I'm in love with an idea I'm afraid of losing...
And he has this creepy Tom Cruise "I'm in love with Katie Holmes" crazy laugh. He smokes. But you know what? I don't care. I like him in spite of those things! We were at a club on a recent weekend and he was making me laugh with his adventurous spirit. It was crowded and when people would bump into him, he'd yell something absurd like WE'RE SWINGERS! I guess most girls would balk and run away, but I laughed! It was just so ridiculous. And we were outside talking to our friends and he was going to get a drink at the bar. I told him I'd stay out. He looked at me with his beautiful blue eyes and said, "come with me. It will be an adventure."
On another recent occasion, I received a text message from him. Here's how the conversation went:
Him: So your friend asked me about you tonight. Me: Ok. Who? Him: So and So's girlfriend Me: Oh ok! Well, what did you say? Him: That we're getting married next week. Best to thrive on awkwardness Me: Be still my beating heart. Since this is short notice, I'll pick catering...the hot dog cart. Our friend can officiate as well! Him: Haha! :)
Okay, I really, really may have met my match. And I don't want this to end. He is this intriguing individual. And when I think back on how this all started it's such a wonderful story that I don't want to end. From watching afar, doe-eyed and scared to make my presence known, to asking a magician to pull the right card from his stack. From late night text messages to midnight rendezvous into a whole new world. From late mornings under a down comforter to waking up with him and the adorable dog who chewed my shoes.
I know often times in my posts I say that I'm ready for something serious, something real, not something to pass the time. But I have to laugh at my naiveity. Because it wouldn't be the first time a story started out as a simple series of amusing events, something "not serious." Over time, these events can continue to play out as a series of misadventures which become incredibly mundane, or they can develop into greater adventures that collect and resonate with time, creating new and wonderful beginnings. So far, I can say that we've both kept up with each other. There's that fun little thing called The Chase, and it's been fun playing hide and go seek with a worthy opponent.
When I was younger, I always lived by the words, "labels are for cans," and as I've gotten older, I applied this phrase to relationships. As a result, I've gotten burnt. The boys would either take advantage of my carefree nature and completely forget I exist, or they would see it as an opportunity to let me know they're only here for a good time. I also suppose that is another reason for my fears. But the funny thing is that I was super cautious with OGM and my ex before him. I didn't dare think, let alone utter the word "love" when each one invaded my life. Then this man enters my world, full speed, without a warning label, and I'm in love. You can't help who you fall for or how hard you fall, I've learned.
What a good friend did tell me is that I can control the way I handle it. I kind of laughed, but it's worth trying. Being cautious has saved me from being totally hurt, but it has kept me from something I so believe I deserve. So long as he continues to show up unexpectedly to see me at work, text me nonsense at midnight, and hold my hand on our way to a bar excursion, I won't complain. I will relish falling in love. If I can free fall 10,000 feet from a rickety plane with a stranger on my back, I can fall headfirst and heart first into this crazy little adventure called love.
This is from Matthew Grey Gubler's blog. You may better recognize him as Dr. Spencer Reid on Criminal Minds.
I love everything about this! I will highlight the key points in which I think are pretty much about me.
girlfriend wanted
must love decorating for holidays
mischief
kissing in cars
and wind chimes
no specific height*
weight
hair color
or political affiliation required but would prefer a warm spirited non racist
cynics
critics
pessimists
and “stick in the muds” need not reply
voluptuous figures a plus
any similarity in look, mind set, or fashion sense to mary poppins
claire huxtable
snow white
or elvira wholeheartedly welcomed
i am dubious of actresses, felons, and lesbians
but don't want to rule them out entirely must be tolerant of whistling
tickle torture
james taylor and sleeping late
i have a slight limp
eerily soft hands and a preternatural love of autumn
I once misinterpreted being called a coal-eyed dandy as a compliment when it was intended as an insult
I wiggle my feet in my sleep
am scared of the dark and think the Muppet's Christmas Carol is one of the greatest films of all time
all i want is
butterfly kisses in the morning
peanut butter sandwiches shaped like a heart
and to make you smile until it hurts
Well sign me up! *I'm 5'2" so this is always good to hear
I may have met my goofy match. Maybe. At least it's fun for now. I still don't know where this is going, but if there's more of this, I really won't complain.
Seriously. They know how to take care of a woman in every way that a woman knows how to be taken care of.
This is where I'm going to let your imagination take charge.
Still, I must say that CSB isn't without his flaws. But then again, who isn't? He goes out often (days that end in Y) and he smokes. But once again, I only have a handful of need that need to be met: treat me well, make me laugh, have your act together. So far, he is meeting all three of my needs. So why fight it?
I would be lying if I said I didn't struggle with myself a bit. Was this too fast too soon? I had to (and continue to) remind myself that I typically don't do the straight and narrow very well. Of course it shouldn't be an excuse for absolute excess and debauchery. I am sincerely having to force myself to enjoy this and go with the flow. I try not to focus on the what ifs: what if he's stringing me along? What if this is just something to pass the time for him?
But all signs are pointing the other way. My past experiences with The Chase have often led me to the same conclusion: there are always risks involved, and with each adventure, every dating experience becomes a little bit better. Like everyone else trying to enjoy some time with potential someone special, I worry that it may not work out. Because it's going so damn well. And if I haven't made it clear enough, I really want this to work out. It would be foolish if I didn't at least admit that I'm not sure if I'm going about it the right way. A lot of my actions with CSB are quite unorthodox. I believe if I took the more conservative approach, we wouldn't be at this point. Either method I would take, I know that I want to keep CSB in my life.
But more than that, I want to believe that he wants me in his life as well.
But I'm observing behaviors from CSB that I can't help but relish. Last night he was telling me he offered to fix the coffee shop owner's bike. Why? Because CSB wants him to experience the thrill of a simple ride again. Wow. I thought that was extremely admirable. That nugget made him much sexier than I could have anticipated. He even texted me a picture of the owner on his bike, content with the selfless gesture from CSB. On top of this,he is also incredibly intent and focused on school, no matter the surroundings.
But when he moves his focus on me? It's quite difficult to put into words. In keeping with the theme of our adventure, the best way I can describe it is magic. He moves me in ways that I didn't imagine possible. And I've only known this man for a week! ONE WEEK! Last night, we spent the good part of two hours in his house YouTubing music we love. And he gazed at me across his bed as I sang Regina Spektor and introduced him to She & Him. I'm so impressed with you, he whispered to me. He warmed my stomach with his hands all night. He played with my hair. He nibbled on my legs. If this talk isn't making you want to make babies, I don't know what will.
Slowly we began to intertwine. He whispered directions in my ear. Said my name. Pulled my hips and leaned in with each kiss. He even asked me if I was okay and if there was anything else he could do to make me feel better. I assure you I was feeling quite fantastic. We were up all night, doing this dance. After a warm embrace, he moved my body and tucked me in. Where did I find this man?
I have to wonder: if I notice all these amazing things about him, what can I offer? Do I have what it takes to give him what he wants or needs? Because I know I have a lot to give. Does he want what I have, more than just a strong physical connection? I hear the echos of my friends ringing in my ear: Just enjoy it. I definitely am! But it's difficult and foolish to admit that I want something more from this. Of course I would. Everyone loves getting extra dessert! I look forward to more midnight adventures with CSB. I must admit: I love that this chase is working both ways.
So says Mindy Kaling, better known as Kelly Kapoor on NBC's The Office.
My best friend and room mate peeked into my recent issue of Glamour Magazine and pointed out the excerpt from Kaling's upcoming book, "Is Everyone Hanging out Without Me? (And Other Concerns)." My best friend was convinced that I could have written this portion of her memoir. And perhaps, I may even be living it. The Amazon.com review says that this book features "a tour of her life and her unscientific observations on romance,
friendship, and Hollywood, with several conveniently placed stopping
points for you to run errands and make phone calls."
I adore Ms. Kaling. She describes herself as a bit of an anti-hero for giving advice. She says, "
I’m not married, I frequently use my debit card to buy things that cost
less than three dollars, and... I’m kind of a mess." But she's
accomplished her goals of being an actress and a writer, which gave her
the confidence to tell women everywhere that dating men isn't a terrible
thing. In fact, she equates it to freshly ground peanut butter. Where
is this woman and why aren't we chatting via email?
You guessed it, I was sold.
I have always been a sucker for celebrity memoirs. Who else could have such wonderful and absurd observations of life? I've found that those who write memoirs do so for people like me: The curious, the observant, the zest-for-lifers.
So I started to read what Mindy had to say. Kaling mentioned something about being scared shitless of men. Why? Well, because men know what they want. They're strategists. They own watches and actually look at theml. Basically they were everything that Kaling felt she was not. But haven't we all been there?
I've been asked about what I look for in a man. Lately, especially after a few bad dates, I've learned that what I want is rather simple: a funny man who treats me well and has his shit together. Looks don't totally matter, but I'd be lying if I said they didn't bear some importance. You're only so much of a good man till I see your double chin...s.I'm not saying I have everything together at 26. However, I'd love to spend some time with people who look clever enough to be living like a real grown-up! I write this as I stare at my Hello Kitty metal lunchbox. Clearly, being a responsible adult is a clever disguise for me.
I could totally relate to Mindy. She claimed that up until she was 30, all she was dating were boys. What's her definition of boys?
Boys can pack up their whole life and move to Brooklyn for a gig if they
need to. Boys have “gigs.” Boys are broke. And when they do have money,
they spend it on a trip to Colorado to see a music festival.
Here's where I run into the issue of finding a man with a sense of adventure. Most guys who are adventurous are broke as a result of their excursions. Beer festivals aren't cheap, ladies. She goes on to talk about a the first "real man" she dated at 25. I'm tickled by the fact that she gave him the code name of Peter Parker. Spiderman's alter ego was apparently this intimidating, condescending jerk who, like most males out there, dishes out unsolicited advice.
SIDENOTE: If I have any male readers, please listen. When a lady wants to vent to you, you just sit there and listen. Don't offer to fix things because that's what she wants her best friend to do. You stand there, give her a drink, look pretty, hug her, tell her she's pretty, and you'll have the most effortless time dealing with her nonsense. Do we like to admit this? No. But men, I just saved you half an hour of listening to her pointless and painful crying and yelling, and spared you the risk of being at fault for her silly, girly emotions.
Back to the awesomeness that is Mindy Kaling.
She went on to say that while he was a jerk, she admired that he didn't shy away from commitment. Here's where I really started to want to read on. She assured me, the curious reader, that this isn't one of those books where she's going to vent about men and their fear and lack of commitment. Instead, she says that she admires that Parker, and other men, commit to things.She "wants a man who is entrenched in his own life." Wow...never thought of it that way. But I suppose it goes with what people have always said. You can't love another until you love yourself. The same can be said for commitment. If one can't commit to any one thing, who's to say that he or she can't commit to you and your needs?
But that's what makes this experience with Coffee Shop Boy so endearing. While I did give him the simple moniker of Coffee Shop Boy, he's pretty much a man. He is committed to buying a house. Two even! He owns his car and his motorcycle. He dresses well and does his homework at a coffee shop on his laptop, refusing to be swayed by the activity all around him. He won't even let the almighty Internet take him off task! That's right. I peeked over his shoulder a few times the nights I saw him. Not once did he check YouTube or Facebook for any nonsense. I found it rather attractive.
I'm curious to read about what else Ms. Kaling has to say about men and dating. I truly am at the point in my life where I'm ready to find a man who wants to take care of me, and who will let me take care of him too. I'm not going to go all domestic diva on him, but I look forward to the day when I help him decide if that sock really is black or blue. I want to learn how to tie his tie, so I can do it for him before he goes to work. All the while, I hope to explore life's little adventures, knowing that I can share them with the man who's grateful I helped him figure out if he chose the right colored socks.
"Is Everyone Hanging out Without Me (And Other Concerns)" will be available nationwide and online on November 1st. Here is the link to read the post on Glamour.com. You can also pick up the November issue at retailers everywhere.
I joked the other day that if I were a Playboy Centerfold, my bio sheet (yes, they really have those) would read "Bakes cupcakes, plays with fire, loves people watching, and defies convention."
Unless you're new to my blog, you understand that bad things happen when I try to date the normal way. When me and OGM started to date, it was nice because there were very little strings attached. It felt easy. That was also a problem. He didn't challenge me. He didn't leave me wanting more. That is, until he said he was leaving. You know what they say: You always want what you can't have.
So what, you ask, do coffee shops have to do with any of this? Well, this is a typical first date for many people. At best, you enjoy a good cup of coffee and conversation, along with ample people watching. At worst, you only spent $3.50 for a half-hour date that would've been worse had dinner been involved. For me, I've lived and seen all of these events. But I assure you, my coffee shop was much different than the your fancy la-ti-da coffee house that happen to be on every corner.
First of all, I am a fire performer who has done shows in front of the shop. There were LARPers who would meet once a week to continue a storyline. And the list of regulars reads like a very famous Billy Joel song. We frequently saw Frank the cop. The Foursquare Mayor was always in the house. Raven cruised by on his bicycle, clearly identified by his face tattoo. And most important to this whole story, Andy the Magician. Andy is one of those people I will always hold dear to my heart. It's difficult to find men with many stories to tell, salted and peppered with jokes, fatherly love, and sealed with magic. Andy is this man.
One recent evening, I was out on rollerblades testing them for fire tricks (for curious minds, it was not going well). I know Coffee Shop Boy rides a motorcycle: a beautiful orange Triumph. I know enough about bikes to get by in a conversation! I was skating towards him because traffic was not being kind. I finally found a free space. Sadly, so did he. He pulled in front of me, while I stumbled like a fool over rollerblades...and eventually my words.
Coffee Shop Boy: So you going to try it with fire?
Me: NOBUTIHAVEBEENCONSIDERINGIT
He smiled and walked inside to order a cup. I painstakingly pulled off the blades of shame, and hobbled over to my fellow fire friend. I complained about wanting to talk to him, but not knowing how. She shrugged, and honestly I can't blame her apathetic or unknowing reaction. Girl's married to the man who's been in her life for almost 10 years. One thing you'll learn as a single girl: Asking dating advice from people who've been with someone forever or who are married is just a waste of time. They're just as out of practice as you are. Hence, why trusting one's gut is the way to go. But we're getting there...
I saw Andy chatting with a few of his friends, gingerly playing with a deck of cards. This was a moment that most screenwriters want to capture. I inhaled sharply, eyes widened and told my friend I am going to have Andy perform a magic trick so that guy can have my number.
She, of course, stared because this is simply foreign to her. It's okay; I don't think anyone really knows how to properly make a pass at someone without fear of shame or rejection. I was going to win or fail guns a'blazing! My friend, Dave calmed my nerves and assured me with the following conversation: "Either way you win. You grew the pair to do such a thing, so even if it doesn't work out, you've proven that you could do it. And if he's not flattered, like most men would be, he doesn't deserve you."
So I sighed, my heart pounding. I wasn't sure at this point if it was because of my nerves or because of the caffeine. But I skipped up to Andy and asked him a "silly question": can he do the card transfer trick so I can give CSB my phone number. Andy told me he would be honored, especially since he hasn't been asked to play cupid for awhile. He had my write my phone number on a blank card and explained he would do a transfer trick in which his name on a separate card and my phone number on a different card would combine. After I saw him walk towards him to perform this trick, a few things crossed my mind: Run, run fast, hide, and finally question what in God's name I just did.
At this point, my friends were outside laughing with me stating they'd never have the guts to do that. It's okay, I said. I'm used to working in extremes. I swear at that point I needed to run away. What if he isn't flattered? What if he finds out who I am and thinks no thanks? So many fears crossed my mind. Finally, I see Andy open the door, crouched over, taking long strides my way. Oh no, I thought. That's the "I have bad news" sulk.
Miraculously, he lifted his head, and a smile stretched his bushy mustache. With two hands giving me the signs for hang loose, he said, "He digs it!" I couldn't be any happier to hug an old Vietnam vet at that point. Andy said CSB was amazed with the trick and the fact that some girl would go that far to get his attention. And Andy, in his wonderful fatherly voice told him: "Hmm. Seems like you have a card now with the one girl's number in this whole entire coffee shop. So...you gonna call her?" And he said yes!
At this point I was hyperventilating like a silly school girl. Suddenly, a buzz in my left jacket pocket. Color me impressed! That was amazing :)
What's the lesson? Take a risk. You'll never know what will happen. Don't get me wrong. I still ran away to my car with a cheeky smile the whole drive home. I did that, I thought. Damn right I did that! To make this story even better, my fire friend's husband got a bag from his car from a recent trip they took to New Orleans. They found me a voodoo doll. For what? To help me find a good man. What impeccable timing.
So what happens next? Questions of age and proper dating protocol. Let's just say midnight dates with someone you barely know aren't such a terrible thing.
Every once in awhile when you're a single girl, you hear the phrase "It'll happen when you least expect it." I'm here to tell you that sometimes it's okay to give your destiny a little boost.
I went through a little slump. I dated another guy I met online. He was another sailor who was 23-years-old and worked on planes. And he was just as awkward. I was completely ready to give up on dating the minute he corrected the bartender on his beer knowledge AND fully admitted to cooking rabbit regularly. Ladies and gentleman: there are many things to not disclose on a first date. These are a few of them. Seriously, There are other ways to impress me. Humility and not cooking cute animals, for example. I was losing hope, especially since this was less than 15 minutes into our beer date. Thank God for good beer...
Luckily I've had other hobbies to distract me. I was growing weary of crying to God in my car, wondering why if I'm so great as people make me out to be, I'm still resorting to online dating and meeting weirdos. I know. I definitely just answered my own question there. The whole experience is exhausting. Like Audrey Hepburn said, "I was born with an enormous need for affection, and a terrible need to give it."
Don't get me wrong. I am fully capable of being by myself and creating my own happiness, but I'm at the point in my life where I really want to share life's simple adventures with a wonderful man. And honestly, unless I really think outside the box, I'm not going to meet him. I just want a man to help me pick out paint samples and bake cupcakes for after we argue whether or not it's eggshell or ivory. Isn't that every girl's dream?!
Not going to lie, it gets kind of exhausting having the following conversation:
Well-intentioned human being: Oh wow, Jax Single Girl. Where's your boyfriend?
Me: What boyfriend?
Flustered well-intentioned human being: Oh, I was wondering where he was because I never see him!
Me: That's because there is no boyfriend.
Simply embarrassed individual: Oh...hope this wasn't awkward
Me: Not in the least.
As a result of my recent misadventures and awkward conversations, I've become the kind of girl who throws herself into a project. I've learned that when you're passionate about something, it can heighten your senses. That's right, baby. I was back in the jungle! And I also learned that when you're a regular somewhere, you see the same people over and over again, but by casually observing them, you learn something new about that place, the person, and even yourself.
Lately, for some reason, I was noticing this quiet, focused guy on his laptop. There are always many people on laptops farting around at coffee shops, but this one was different. He never got distracted by his surroundings. There would be a group of people sitting with him, and he'd pay them no mind. And yes, he is kinda cute. However, I was too distracted myself, trying to get my own work done to really worry about Coffee Shop Boy.
And then...he shows up at my workplace. It's funny how different people look in the daylight as opposed to being covered in the sheen of coffee steam and dim lights of night. I stammered doing the standard customer service speech to him. He was distracting. I found myself thinking about it even more. Since I wasn't in a state of disarray in my car in a well-lit public parking space crying to God, I thought He'd appreciate it if I calmly and logically asked Him a question: Should I be paying attention?
And why oh why, did I have to start tripping over myself trying to talk to him? I talk to many good-looking (and not-so-good-looking men) everyday. How is this any different? I think that if God held out a long pointy stick at this point, He was poking me to get my attention. And once again, I thought of my conversation with a good friend about trusting my gut. I thought to myself that every time I have listened to my gut since the start of these dating adventures, it's been right.
So what happens now? I broke new ground, and it was completely worth it. Want to know more?
That's for the next post. For now, I'll leave you with this: Whether it's the aroma or the hoards of random activity, there is something about coffee shops that help you connect with people in ways you'd never imagine.
I'm excited about my date on Thursday finally. I still have some jitters. I feel the need to, like any proud blogger, do some research on how to date.
I'm extremely nervous. We are going to a Japanese restaurant. Apparently he admires the culture. I am introducing him to the goodness of boba/bubble tea. And then I wonder, as I did before, about how to do my hair. Or if I should wear glasses or contacts. Or if I should dress up or dress down.
And the awkward dater in me asks the more hard-hitting questions: do I bring my own chopsticks? Will that impress him? Do I cut my swearing 25%? Is that enough?
Yes, yes, I know BE YOURSELF, you say. But this date is different because I'm being forced completely outside of my comfort bubble. I usually enjoy this. But, as stated before, I did my research on online dating. It's basically safety first. My best friend knows where I will be. We have a code red abort signal. I am meeting him there. And I'm certain he's not a Nigerian money scam, so there will be no wiring of money in the future.
*sigh*
I will keep you updated. I want to be someone's second date. Not gonna lie.
Online dating sites would hit a gold mine if they encouraged
you to lay out your fears about online dating and dating in general.
I got to hand it to men who attempt it. You're not like
women in the sense that you don't know how to talk about yourselves,
usually because women are constantly cutting you off. Or that you just
never have to unless it's for an interview. I'm sure they wonder what's
worse: trying to create the damn profile or having the guts to make that
first move.
I recently went on a road trip with my best friend to celebrate the victory of conquering a chaotic work week.
I adore my her quite simply for the fact that I don't know if anyone
else could put up with my dramatic nature. Seriously, give that girl a
medal for being so patient. She drove a whole two hours and listened to
me gripe and overanalyze everything about online dating.
And I do mean everything.I want to punch myself for saying the following things:
"Well, do you ever see me standing next to a guy in a polo?"
"Why would a man think he's datable with usernames that include pimp, 69, or bro in it?"
"What am I? A mail order Asian bride? Why do the 45-year-old men in douche gear want me?"
"I don't see myself settling down. But I really want to. A dream is a wish your heart makes."
I
assure you that none of these questions or statements were alcohol
induced. The fact that I wasn't inebriated when I said those things
saddens. It's difficult to admit the things in love you know you want,
and the things you aren't sure of quite yet. Nobody likes being lonely. I
conquered my fear of fire, but not that of loneliness. And I worry
about rushing into the arms of another man. It's still worth noting that
I kept my guard up pretty high with OGM. And as far as OGM is concerned, my gut was telling me
that while I can't have him for long, it is possible for me to be with a
good man.
So as I'm slouched in the seat of my best friend's car, salvaging the remnants of the first Slurpee of
the day, I chattered on about how I feel about my date with Academy
Boy. It was essentially a series of "what ifs." The worst part is that I
know that is is just a date. My best friend kept rolling her
eyes and telling me that I should just have fun. You don't have to tell
me twice! Still, at 26-years-old when most of my peers are planning both
wedding and baby showers, it's difficult not to want to date because
you want to find your partner, not just to try on men like their pairs
of jeans.
I never thought I would need to have a
particular conversation with my best friend this soon in my life, let
alone in a car with bright red sugar stains on my teeth. The topic came
up of what would happen if things went particularly well and I ended up a
Navy wife.
But then this whole concept of "settling" came up
again. Would I be okay to pack up and move? Can I just up and leave
everything I know behind and often? What about having children and
exposing them to this kind of life? All of these questions were followed
up with my inner child screaming obscenities. I can't possibly grow up.
I won't fit in with Navy wives because I don't scrapbook ( I assume
they scrapbook and only make babies. Someone prove me wrong). However, I
thought that this would be a challenge...and I adore those. I would
find a thrill in being forced out of my comfort zone, trying to meet new
friends and learn about a new town. But I'd be forced to be lonely
again...right?
One of the last conversations I had with OGM was about
moving I told him that I honestly and truly believed
that the only way I'll move is when and if I get married. Having that conversation with OGM made me feel like I didn't have
enough ambition in my life, whereas he is willing to be a cowboy and
travel where all the cattle thrives. Ever since I moved out of my ex's
home (and awful home situation) a few years ago, my main focus has been
about me having fun and taking in all that life has to offer.
Is this Dating Darwinism? Am I destined to not find the right man
because I'm not aggressive enough in the concrete jungle? Do my strange
hobbies indicate a lack of focus so strong that my ability to even
think about being barefoot and pregnant just isn't possible? Can men
sense that and run away to the next girly and fertile being they see?
It's obvious that one of my dating woes is that men see me and don't
think "long term love of my life."
Yes, that is what I
want. I want what every girl wants: a man to look at me in the face,
tongue ring, awkward jokes, crazy hobbies, snide comments, and all and
still see a girl he can take home to mom and give flowers to just
because. It really does hurt that I don't get that impression from men. I
am more than just punch lines and quick-wit sarcasm. I can bake and I
also enjoy wearing pearls and cardigans in addition to studs and leather
jackets.
And here I have a date with someone who
thinks I'm interesting and important enough to email back. A man who
studied engineering at a prestigious military school, who's working hard
to be a pilot. I am but a picture in a catalog, filled with countless
other women who find it difficult to meet men organically. Underneath
the surface of the girl cheerily tying on a pair of ice skates, is a
girl scared to put her guard down because she fears no one will want to
be the ice to her fire. Someone who fears she won't be good enough for him or someone like him.
But I will meet with Academy Boy, chopsticks in hand, ready to plot
zombie defenses. I will introduce him to boba smoothies and perhaps he
can entertain me with academy tales. All the while, in the back of my
head will be the fears: rejection, not being good enough to mention to
mom, being too odd even though I will be myself. A girl like me
typically doesn't end up with men like him.
And then a glimmer of hope. I read this on his online dating profile and it made me feel better. It
made me feel as if maybe I shouldn't be too quick to judge or over
analyze. Trust me, I do both quite well.
"Don't worry if you're interested a little and the complete opposite
of what I ranted about above because no one knows who they might end up
with in the end anyway, right?"
Wow. If he's right about that, let's see if he's right about me.
So I've been noticeably absent. Don't get me wrong. I never said I wasn't single anymore. I just happened to be distracted by OGM. And then...reality hit.
So, a couple weeks ago he texted me that he had something to tell me. I said, ok, so just tell me. Apparently then was not the time. Okay, ladies and gentleman. I have an annoucement: Now is either a bad time or it's the only time. Choose wisely! I digress...flash forward to a few days ago.
"I move this Saturday"
So...September isn't it then, I thought? He followed this heavy-sighed statement with "we shouldn't continue." Which, again, is fine. I think I've been prepared for this. In fact we had quite the routine:
- Sundays were days catching up on a certain favorite TV show
- Tuesdays were more of the same. He'd make us dinner
- Thursdays were spent drinking and laughing
- Friday we may go out somewhere
This, coupled with work, is why I have been quiet on the Single Girl front. I think, I believe, we had to savor the moment. Live the present. Be together because we knew this couldn't happen after he left. In his own words, "he needed something good in his life." And believe me, I'm honored by this. It's really sweet.
When he would hold me late at night, brushing the hair away from my face, sighing deep into my neck, I could tell that he didn't want to be alone on this ship. A lonely captain, weakly grabbing control, and venturing out into new territory, unsure of what he'll find. I will be there in some shape or fashion with him. I am there with him. But that's because he chooses to.
Believe it or not, I'm not heartbroken. I prepared for this. It stings a little bit, but I have made great strides to emotionally detach myself from falling *gasp* in love. And yet this boy confuses the life out of me.
Who follows "we can't continue" with "I want to see you again" or "do you really have to leave" or "what about seeing you Saturday or Sunday." Don't get me wrong. This isn't just about sex. Yes, sex is a part of it. In fact, this is the closest I've ever felt to knowing what it feels like to make love. However, I have continuously come to the same conclusion ever since he (we?) decided to stop after he moves.
I will feel this way with someone else
And that has what has kept me sane the last month. It's not a mantra. It's a fact. I know I will feel this way with another person. It's like my best friend reminded me: maybe this is some higher deity's way of saying "you can feel a mutual emotional connection with a good man." And this is my conscience following that up with "and you will feel it again."
I adore OGM. He is truly a good man, a good person, and he treated me well and made me happy. But I can and will move on. This is his ship. He has chosen to go into the great wide open without me at his side. And I can't blame him. No one ever wants to feel held back, nor does a really good person ever want to hold someone back from fulfilling, what they believe, some destiny they need to seize.
The more I continue with my single girl adventures, the more I understand my own destiny. I know what it is I want in a relationship and from a man that I potentially want as my partner. However, I do know that I may not need it right now. And that's okay too.
In the interim, I will lift my own sails and venture into my own unknown. Besides, this wouldn't be the first time me and OGM have parted ways. And it's not the first time we have reunited. In life, there are many possibilities. In love, when you experience these possibilities, it's amazing what you learn about your own heart...and his.
Besides...I may have another date soon. This guy? Apparently attended the Naval Academy and asked me out for a discussion about zombie outbreak defense over milkshakes. Did I ever tell you I don't have a type?
You read correctly. That is a reference to a Hootie and the Blowish song. Once again, I had a conversation about dating and relationships last night with my best friend. This got me thinking about timing and how it, much like Nature, can be very fickle and sometimes unforgiving. My PIC (partner in crime) happens to be dating my other best friend, who is probably the one with the best guypinions. While I talked about being twitterpated over One Good Man, the question came up about how her boyfriend felt about my dating situation.
He suggests that I wait to get into anything. Kinda late for that isn't it?
Timing works on a very skewed scale for me, much like my standards for dating. My standards are most girls' standards for dating. To serve as a reminder, I actually have standards and plan to use them this time. That being said, I am by comparison taking my time with dating this time around. Me and OGM have been seeing each other for about a month. Previously, I had been officially unattached for a month. But really, looking back at my past relationship, I was pretty much single for six months. Thus proving I work on a very different scale than most girls. I'm obviously not most girls.
By now, five years ago, I would be spending every single day with him, spending the night with him, doing fun things when spending the night with him (cough), and telling everyone who will listen about my boyfriend I just started seeing a week ago. Me and OGM have been seeing each other once or twice a week, we don't talk everyday, and it hasn't gone to the sexual point of no return. And he treats me well. So far. Yes, I am still bracing myself for the catch. I think some would say I'm cautiously optimistic.
One of my other guy friends had this scale for time that he suggested I use: For every year you are together, that should be the amount of months to wait before dating again. So if you were with someone for two years, you should wait two months before moving on. Not sure how you feel about that, but really it just sounds complicated. You and I both know dating is complicated enough!
In short, timing is all relative. And I've learned that when it comes to dating, timing is never good. We have to reshape how we deal with situations. I've had friends who have married and later found their true missing puzzle piece soon after. It happens. And then they deal with it. Because what can you do right? Very rarely is the timing right for these kind of things. Some people wait 25 years to begin a life with someone they could love. If you're Katy Perry, you date the hilarious guy who looks like an oversized rat and marry him right away.
When it comes to dating and timing, you absolutely have to listen to your gut. I value the opinions of my friends, but this is one of those situations where you have to remind them that they may not know what to do if they were in your shoes. Sometimes it's very difficult to sit back and put aside your opinions about your friends' relationships. But remember whose life it is. While you may not always support their decisions, it's best to put those feelings aside, especially if they are genuinely happy.
You can have your own master plan about dating and what you want to do and when, and formulate the steps to get there. I'm just here to remind you that whatever powers that be will laugh at you and throw you a curveball.
You ready to catch?
For giggles, here is Thumper and Bambi learning what it is to be "twitterpated."
Isn't this typically the emotion one feels when they're in the grasp of being extremely twitterpated? I mean...look at this. Any child of the 90's remembers the fabulously coiffed Uncle Jesse from Full House. Have mercy, he would beg. And can you blame him? Becky was a hot beast by 90's standards. I have discovered the stage in dating where one is teetering on the line between really falling for someone through the hot and heavy, and saying the Lord's Prayer: Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. Well, not all evil. I can't be good all the time...
I can't emphasize it enough: there is no pressure to give in on either end with me and One Good Man. However I truly believe that resistance is futile. This is where we fail at dating: we fail to realize a good thing and to go for it. The main problem is that the word "good" is relative. Sure, what if the making out is good...but does that mean he's a keeper? At best, he is a keeper for now if that's all he has going for him. Women aren't used to be treated with respect. I'm going to give you a piece of advice. Ladies: date someone who has a younger sister. You can tell a lot about a man by how he treats his mother. However, see how he talks about and treats his younger sister. It'll give you a glimpse into what to expect.
Anyway, sometimes mercy needs to come naturally. Dating is quite unatural to begin with, so we have to take little steps to make it easier on ourselves.
Let me tell you a story: I tend to be fairly brash. Not confrontational. Trust me there is a difference. I ended up calling out this guy who would turn out to be my boyfriend. He kept beating around the bush and simply wouldn't admit that he liked me. So after encouraging him to drink his courage elixir at the bar, I demanded that he tell me what was on his mind. "You have something to tell me," I said. With major hesitation he confessed he had feelings for me. Don't worry, I returned the favor and told him I liked him too. I'm not that mean! He didn't like being forced into this confession. Here's how the rest of the conversation went:
Me: I'm helping! It's not good to hold in your feelings! I'm your angel of mercy!
Him: THEN PUT ME DOWN!
I guess I could've been so kind as to let him down gently. The moral of this story is that you have to be willing to give into your feelings, and you can't force someone to give into theirs. Trust me, I obviously tried and I think that set the tone for the rest of our relationship. You simply can't force anything that isn't there and isn't going to work. I also think I scared him...I will try not to do that anymore. No promises.
So where do I stand now? Well, temptation is fun to give into but only if both parties are on the same page. It's so much more fun that way! This is where I get that feeling of no pressure. If he's right there and I'm right there, it's only fireworks from here...at least for the moment. In dating, all you can really do is seize the moment anyway.
And this is more than a sexual assumption. It keeps going back to trusting your gut. During this process I've learned to listen to it, converse with it, reach a mutual understanding with it. Although me and my instincts are getting along, it's still a very complicated relationship. I'm definitely out of my comfort zone and yet there is a small amount of comfort knowing that I don't feel forced, nor am I forcing anything else. Women, we have intuition for a reason. It's not only for protection. We also have to use it to nurture. Men seem to dig that kind of thing.
In the meantime, this song sums it up perfectly. I'm begging
The Beatles got many things right. They got music, long hair, global domination, and simple declarations of love just right.
I Wanna Hold Your Hand...
Hands, to me, are the emotional key in a relationship. While you can tell a lot about your partner by looking into his/her eyes, all of your thoughts and feelings are confirmed when you hold each other's hands. It's usually an electric, balmy, awkward connection when you first begin. But that's what makes it exciting. You can hold hands now! You don't need to have uncomfortable boundary conversations about holding hands as compared to sex.
All of the still-married couples I've talked to emphasize how important the simple things are, and how they define the cohesiveness as a dynamic duo. Let's face it: when it comes to dating and relationships, most girls just want someone to caress their faces, talk music and movies with, have their own mini adventures, even if it's only trying to find the right beer at a liquor store. That last one? Totally did it. Try it sometime. You'll learn a few things about a person by which beer or spirit he or she chooses.
I was up late last night listening to the party in the room below and drowning it out with my music. I recently heard a song that got my attention.
This is kind of how I sum up my online dating experience. "Listen dude, I am ever so happy that you find me compelling enough to bug me for a bit. However, it is my duty to inform you that I am only here to wave and say hello. Now I shall bid you good day."
My friends totally know and understand that I was extremely hesitant to try online dating. This is one of the reasons why. All these eager beavers out there just make my skin crawl, which leads me to this question:
Is there a chase involved with online dating?
Let's face it, kids. Ever since the playground we have been hardwired to chase down and torment the boy or girl we like into liking us back, whether they pulled our hair or we pushed them into the sand. But online, it's so easy to avoid being chased just as much as it is difficult to get the attention of someone in whom your interested.
Despite current events, I still have an active online dating account. We'll see if six months is truly guaranteed. Right now I'm being elusive. I haven't logged onto the thing in a couple of weeks. In the meantime, I'm still getting notifications from possible suitors...and by possible I mean they really have a snowball's chance in hell.
The latest notification I got was a wink from a guy who was my age...and he winked in his picture. It was like Inception. Failception even! As I'm typing this, I see he sent me a message. Yes I will judge you for poor grammar, sir. And no we can't talk.
I highly doubt that those who have tried to find me before and send terrible sweet nothings via the interwebs will try to reach me again. In real life, there is a chase. I will bring you to this little ditty right here. I know I'm not going to try and reconnect with men I've previously winked at or sent messages to. Their silence says it all as I'm sure my silence does as well. With real human interaction, you sense the opportunity to try again.
Look at me...I'm trying again one year later.
I challenge you to tell me a successful online chase story .
That would be my dating cherry popping! Apologies for the visual, but can you blame me for being able to barely contain my excitement? I had my first official date. For once in my life I attempted time with the opposite sex in a linear fashion. Not that kind of fashion, silly. I'm talking about how this time around, I didn't claim a relationship, followed by maybe hanging out, and finally ending with the fall out. I don't claim to be traditional, but I can't be unconventional all the time. It's exhausting!
Yes, it was one of the Few Good Men that I have talked about in previous posts. It was a totally new experience for me. That statement to me is just so sad. It's very evident that I haven't been properly treated before. It's a tough pill to swallow!
So he picked me up, we went to dinner, had a couple drinks, watched the bartenders kick us out with their eyes, and watched TV at my place. And he acted like a total gentleman. If he was trying to impress me, it worked. From refilling my water, to opening the car door for me, to engaging in conversation with me, it was a really great first date.
A girl can totally get used to this!
So how did this even happen? It's a funny story, really. Brace yourselves.
I knew this guy in high school. Our paths crossed once in a while since we both took similar classes. We had mutual friends but for the most part we didn't really hang out with each other. It had been seven years since we last spoke. And that was because of a life-changing car accident that could have potentially taken his life. Honestly, I probably wouldn't have spoken to him until our ten-year high school reunion. Frankly, he was extremely lucky to have survived and be in optimal health.
He was always a kind person, and I wouldn't wish that kind of tragedy on my worst enemy. To me, it felt like a sign to talk to him again. We met up with a few of his friends and we caught up. Shortly after, he asked to spend a day with me. Sadly, the timing was terrible.
I was trying to patch things up with my ex, and we ended up getting back together. I thought about what would have happened if I said yes. Did I regret my decision? Let's just say that timing is everything, and I was upset that his timing was terrible. Who knew after one year we'd get a chance to try it again?
It's a wonderful transition. Less than a few weeks in, I was ready to give up on online dating. All I wanted to believe in is that there is still that possibility that something organic could happen. And now something has been planted when I've least expected it. Look, I don't know where it will go but if we keep wanting to spend this much time with each other without any sort of pressure, commital or sexual, I think there is promise.
For all of you single ladies out there, I hope that my story has given you some glimmer of hope. I know the concept of dating alone can be an uphill battle. When you add the Internet to the mix, it truly feels like there's no chance of reaching the top of the mountain. I don't want to sound like a sappy Nicholas Sparks novel, but these kind of experiences happen when you least expect them to. There is so much truth to that cliche! So definitely keep an open mind and be in tune to your surroundings. You'll be surprised at who is paying attention.
