"It was nice meeting you."

"It was nice meeting you."

"It was nice meeting you."

"It was nice meeting you."

"It was nice meeting you."

"It was nice meeting you."

"It was nice meeting you."

"It was nice meeting you."

"It was nice meeting you."

"It was nice meeting you."

"It was nice meeting you."

"It was nice meeting you."

"It was nice meeting you."

"It was nice meeting you."

"It was nice meeting you."

"It was nice meeting you."

"It was nice meeting you."

"It was nice meeting you."

"It was nice meeting you."

"It was nice meeting you."

Today's blog post is a homework assignment. I've apparently become rusty at dating because when a date ended on an awkward silence, I filled it with "email me when you get back from your holiday travel." Gah. So I must practice. Because no matter how plummy your English accent, I just can't deal with blond eyelashes. And nothings says have a nice life like it was nice meeting you.

Ugly stepsister fights back

I didn't know how right I was in writing up the characteristics of an ugly stepsister. It turns out I nailed it with number 2 and number 5. I need a little back story here because in my rush to make clever blog posts, I realize I never wrote down what actually prompted them. So….

I went to a barbecue, met a guy, became friends, and he asked me out. This guy seemed a little bit brighter than the average bear, but I had some misgivings given extreme geographic undesirably and a suspicion we didn't have much in common. But I let him try on the dress, and the suspicions were confirmed on the date. After going for every conversational gambit in my repertoire, we ended up talking about people we knew in common. I tried to be real on the date, even telling him that failing to set up the second date on the first date means I'm not interested enough for a second date. And then he asked me out the next day anyway. I said no, we were looking for different things. He accepted and we remained friends.

Flash forward a couple of weeks and this arrives in my inbox:

"I know what will make you smile, when are we going out on our second date? You promised remember? LOL kidding girl, but I figure I’ll ask you everyday for the next 5 years."

WTF? Why is he asking me out after I said no? The reason becomes clear.

"I’m by no means a cocky dude, but one thing I do know is that I get along with just about any and everyone I come in contact with. I think I can have fun with any and everyone as well, making the best out of any situation (hence the fun squad lol). And you are the first girl to ever turn down a second date offer, and your reason was legit in your mind, but if I’m not the only one, then I think you may need to rethink your methods or you’ll end up never finding the right one."

Gold start to me! I'm the first girl to ever turn down the offer of a second date (twice!!!). I admit to completely blowing it on his having an inferiority complex. Despite his going on and on about how much he likes me, I guess he wasn't putting me on a pedestal. Or it was on the one he thinks he already occupies. Good thing it's clear there's something wrong with me that I don't want to go out with him again.

Let me clear up any confusion right now. This guy is overweight and has a moderately successful job. He does not have the resume to back up that statement. But, clearly, if I'm in the habit of turning him down then I'm never going to find the right one. Great. Oblivious and stubborn. Seriously. Where do I find these guys?

Ugly Stepsisters

Far be it from me to let a good clothing analogy die. There’s a name for people who are so desperate to have something, they’ll do anything to make it fit. They’re called ugly stepsisters. They’re going to cut off their toes to get their feet into the shoe and MAKE it fit. My last date was with an ugly stepsister. Ugly stepsisters agree with everything you say. When you say you’re afraid of commitment, they agree and tell you that they’re not even thinking marriage for the next couple of years. They are then confused when you tell them you’re not looking for the same things. Ugly stepsisters hear you tell them you never have a second date with a guy that wasn’t arranged on the first date, and then ask you on a second date the next day. Ugly stepsisters love that you have strong opinions, but ignore what those opinions are.

Ugly stepsisters can be hard to spot. They want the shoe so much, they can seduce you into believing that they should have it. So what makes an ugly stepsister?

1. Too many compliments. An ugly stepsister wants to keep attention focused away from themselves so no one notices the blood dripping out of the shoe.

2. Imperviousness to blisters. You can’t rub an ugly stepsister the wrong way. They’ll turn any negative aspect about you into a positive.

3. Warts. Obvious sign of an ugly stepsister.

4. Fatigue. Trying to shove the shoe on their foot makes for a tiring date.

5. Stubbornness. Ugly stepsisters won’t take no for an answer.

6. Underhandedness. When they’re not locking your true love away from you, they’re tricking you into a date.

7. Inferiority complex. You know it and they know it. They’re no Cinderella.

Given my charming personality, I've been out with quite a few ugly stepsisters in my time. It's hard to explain to other people why I don't like them. "How is a guy who compliments you a bad thing?"  I'm glad I finally have the terminology down. 

Trying on the dress

Male readers, bear with me through this analogy. You know when you’re out and you happen to see this really beautiful dress in a store? Check out the price tag and it’s expensive, and it’s not like you were looking for a dress in the first place. You have two choices. Walk away because you can’t afford it anyway. Try it on because it might not fit. If it does and looks fabulous, then it’s worth the money. The advantage of the walk away plan is you don’t then have to go into a dressing room, take off all your clothes, and spend five minutes deciding whether the fluorescent lighting is creating the appearance of cellulite or if that’s what your butt really looks like. The disadvantage is you keep remembering that beautiful dress that you didn’t buy.

My position is, try on the dress. It never fits. So I never have any regrets, and it’s worth the effort. It’s like that with dating too. Sometime a guy I’ve become friends with asks me out. I don’t think we’re a fit, but if I say no to a date, he’s left wondering what would’ve happened if I had just given him a shot. So I let him try on the dress. This way he’ll see it doesn’t fit and we can carry on being friends with no wondering what might have been. And on the odd chance that the dress looks amazing…

The accessories make the woman

A good friend of mine has advised me to buy a more expensive purse. In fact she believes "we all need gucci purses." My $35 purse is not doing the job apparently. Oh sure, it's holding all my stuff, and has lasted for a couple of years despite heavy use. But it's also convincing guys I’m 25. I don't wanna buy a Gucci purse. I don't wanna get crows feet or grey hair. I don't wanna wear sweaters sets or pearls or jeans that go all the way to my waist. But I also don't wanna find myself on a date with a 23 year old. Again.

* That is my actual bag in the picture, except mine is brown. Feel free to judge.

The economics of pickiness

Alright, all of us singletons have been accused of being too picky at some point or another. Don't worry; this is not where I go into a rant about why someone who's such a great catch should start lowering standards. To lapse into economics for a moment, the essential question is whether the marginal benefit of being in someone's company outweighs the marginal cost. In equation form:

where i = all the things you like about the person and j = all the things you don't

and α, β, δ, and γ are weights

So you're out on a date. You're getting to know someone. Every new piece of information is either an i (positive) or a j (negative). You keep dating the person until the next j added tips the equation in that direction.

Where we open ourselves up to attack is what that j is. The proverbial straw that breaks the camel's back, the last j is unfortunately what we give as the reason we don’t want to keep seeing the person. So if my last j (under the category of Interests) is he likes the American version of The Office EVEN THOUGH he's seen the original, I get called out for being too picky. Which, if you look at the math, is totally unfair.

First, there's the issue of weights. One part of being accused of being too picky is when people don't like our weights. If my α is 0.85 and my β is 0.05, someone is going to come along and tell me I care too much about personality, and I should focus more on whether or not he's a good person. Actually, a friend of mine who got married by an arranged marriage keeps telling me I need to weight γ zero. That's going to make for a fun marriage when the kids are out of the house and that was the only thing you had in common.

Generally, I think it breaks down like this for me*:

α = 0.27

β = 0.27

δ = 0.19

γ = 0.27

So, liking the US Office added 0.27 to the right-hand side of the equation. That's really not very much at all. What it really comes down to is that the left-hand side of the equation didn't have enough i's to balance it out. If he were better looking, less religious, less inclined to spend the date talking about his exes, then that little 0.27 wouldn't have been enough to tip the balance.

So the next time someone gets on your case for being too picky, hand them a copy of this equation. Then plug in some numbers to show them quite clearly how rational it is to dump a woman for having man hands.

*Feel free to put your own numbers in the comments section—if you can't type greek, that's alpha, beta, delta, and gamma.

Shitting where you eat

Surprisingly, work has suddenly become a place to pick up guys. I say surprisingly because everyone here is old. Even the young people. The coworkers at an old job used the labels "old 30" and "young 30" to describe what I mean. While almost all 20 year-olds there were single, lived in or close to the city, and attended happy hours, only some of the 30 years-olds were similarly situated. Hence young 30 to describe the people who weren't way out in the suburbs with spouses or kids who no longer had a social life.

In the year and a half I've been working this job, I've only met one other young 30 person. I'm going off on a tangent because this is a good story. He was leading a training given to new employees. One of the other trainers was an older woman who kept trying to set us up. She would start extolling his good points to me every time we got near each other. Which would have been fine except this guy was currently playing Brad in a production of Rocky Horror Picture Show and was a really snazzy dresser. Awkward. I wonder if she ever figured out she was trying to set me up with a gay guy.

Anyway, I started a flirtation with a guy who sits near me and eventually he asked me out. This is was a big step for me, because he is old. Like in his 40s old. This has its advantages. He literally wined and dined me, but since he's so much older (and consequently farther along in his career), I didn't feel guilty about him picking up such a large check.

Some more lessons learned

I don't make it a habit to regret my decisions, and I'm happy to say I think my experience with the BT was beneficial. My post-breakup take home is that I need to date guys closer to my age. Yes, they have pot-bellies and receding hairlines. But at least they have their shit together. I'm saying goodbye to the younger guys who are still trying to figure it all out. However valid their search, they're a pain in my ass.

The second thing that came out of the experience was an unexpected trip into DXBF nostalgia. Post-breakup with my one serious boyfriend was quite a bit of recrimination for being with someone so completely messed up. But my trip down memory lane reminded me that giant emotional problems aside, we were really compatible. I haven't found anyone else I get along with that well. So years after the fact, I feel much better about the relationship and less bad about getting dumped.

Thank you, BT.  I'd tell you that in person, but that's going to make for one awkward conversation on the sidewalk when we finally run into each other.

Post mortem

I did end up getting an email from the BT the next day. Poor kid. It was sweet, apologizing for making me mad. I emailed back to say I wasn’t mad, I had forced his hand for a reason, and there’s no reason to think this was anything other than mutual. In retrospect, I think the line, “But I can't help but think tomorrow I'm some girl you used to know,” was misinterpreted. I meant that from my point of view. I was trying to say, deal with this now, because if you don’t, I’m gone tomorrow. Not, deal with this now, because if you don’t, it shows how little you care about me.

Anyway, I was glad I got the chance to clear up the texts. Having said that, I think text message is a great way to end the relationship. Everyone is so horrified by this, but aren’t breakups better when you are forced to type out your thoughts rather than blurting out something stupid? Talking it over with a friend, she made the point that at least texts are a conversation. When one person breaks up by email (or the infamous Sex and the City post-it note), it doesn’t give the other person a chance to respond. After I got over feeling guilty about that statement (I’ve blocked sender so the other person can’t respond), I realized that is the crucial aspect. As long as there’s a back and forth, I don’t see any reason why breakups have to be done in person. I’m not sure the benefit of looking someone in the eye outweighs the cost of being looked in the eye.

Once more on to the breach

You can probably guess what the point of this post is. Since this blog is about dating in the technological age, I'll go ahead and just post the series of texts that was the end of my latest relationship. But first, some background. The BT and I were hanging out after I got out of work. He was texting a friend to see if he could come out and finally called him and agreed to come over. I'm standing there like, what the fuck?, and the BT tells me the friend would be annoyed if I came with him. So he decided to go hang out with the friend and send me home with promises to see me later. After I got home, I started reading and fell asleep. In that time I got:

     BT: Hey sorry, you at home? Want me to bring you some food? 8:13 PM

     BT: Are you mad at me? 8:44 PM

I wake up to the two texts noting the first one was sent a good 45 minutes after we parted ways. So it's not like he immediately felt bad about what happened. This is what happened next:

     Me: I think so. I fell asleep 8:59 PM

     Me: Where are you? 9:07 PM 

After I didn't hear from him I called, but he was still at his friend's. I said something like, do you only want to be with me when you have nothing better to do? But he was not in a place where he could talk so I hung up. He followed up with me by text:
 

     BT: I'll talk to you tomorrow ok? 9:21 PM

     Me: No. Don't talk to me if you're not willing to sort this out. 9:23 PM

     BT: That's what i meant. When we're both sober 9:24 PM

     Me: I'm sober, and hurt as hell. I'm not going to feel better that you're hanging out with friends so you can take care of me tomorrow. 9:27 PM 
     BT: Well i'm not sober, but i am sorry, and i'll talk to you tomorrow 9:31 PM

     Me: I get that. But I can't help but think tomorrow I'm some girl you used to know. 9:37 PM

     Me: No snark. No way you stay out drinking and fix it tomorrow. 9:51 PM

     BT: I'm not sure if i want to fix it, 9:56 PM

     BT: And it really is hard for me to say that, and i wish it wasn't over the phone 10:00 PM 
     BT: Fair enough. I guess if I want a post mortem I'll ask. Have a nice life. 10:04 PM

     BT: No, [datista], please don't be like that. I want to talk to you tomorrow. You mean more that to me 10:07 PM

     Me: ? You don't want to fix it but you do? 10:16 PM

     BT: I just want to talk to you ok? 10:18 PM

     Me: Why? 10:20 PM

     BT: Because you aren't just some girl 10:27 PM

     Me: I appreciate that. But i don't want to go through a breakup twice. 10:33 PM

     BT: Ok, but this texting shit just doesn't feel right 10:43 PM

     Me: As long as breaking up does, the medium is irrelevant

It's a few hours after the last text and I've had a chance to process a little by email and over the phone with friends. Basically, I've been feeling like the relationship has been stale for the past couple of weeks. I hate to put a timeline on these things, but after four months I felt like we should love each other if we were going to. I wasn't feeling it, and since it was clear he wasn't feeling it either, best to just get out. 

Since I wrote them, I don't know how my texts come off. I hope they don't sound bitter because I didn't mean them that way, and I don't want him to come away thinking that I was detached to cover up my true emotions. Not out of pride, but because I made this whole big thing out of the grace of 30, and I want him to know breakups can be like this. No big drama, no tears, no angry words, no pretense of being friends, just goodbye. 

So I'm not upset. I'm sad that I'm losing a reliable source of sex. But frankly, that was going stale too. I'm just disappointed. My heart isn't broken but I sort of wish it were. Here's him telling me that I mean more to him than some cheap breakup by text and I'm saying cheap breakup by text is ok by me. I"m starting to think that in all my practicality I'm just not capable of being in love. After all, when it comes down to it, I'm just someone who'd can't be bothered to break up in person.

Don't hate the player

At the risk of gender baiting, I have to say I can’t believe some guys still know so little about women. Oh hell, I’m not gender baiting. I can’t believe some guys still know this little about people. The guys I’m talking about are the inventors and adherents of the seduction industry. Popularized by The Game, this industry sells men a proven method to pick up women (and get laid).

I have been totally sucked into reading up on this after the BT first told me about it. Yeah, I know, I’m waaaaay behind the times. (He’s not an adherent, but a friend is. I’m trying to figure out how I can go out with the friend and see it in action.) It’s hilarious. These guys really believe their stupid techniques work. They’ll even back it up with pop psychology or evolutionary biology. Apparently, women have evolved an attraction for guys who subtly insult us.

But I ask you, what is the number one contributing factor to attractiveness? Yeah. Confidence. All other things being equal, the confident bird catches the worm. So if you designed a program that told guys what to say/do when around the opposite sex, if you gave them training, and even took them out to practice, what do you think would happen? Duh, you idiots. It would work. But not because faking disinterest makes a woman compete for your attention. Because being talkative and friendly and not desperate is attractive. To people, not just women.

I can’t honestly say it’s a bad thing that guys are being given this confidence. Nor am I upset it’s promoting a misogynist point of view. It only is if the guys are so stupid they think these women are actually into them. Really, the only thing that upsets me is that they’re stupid enough to believe they’re own hype. That’s just sad.

The grace of 30

It’s hard to keep a blog about online dating going when you’re not doing any of it. Stupid relationships. But I managed to create a tempest in a teacup this weekend. Better yet, the tempest was entirely in my own head. The short story (the longer it goes, the stupider I sound) is that I told the BT I was no longer fucking around in the relationship, I was falling in love, and I was afraid he was going to break my heart. Yeah, the last part was added by the drunk part of my mind. The next morning he was acting strange and then he decided to go home and spend the rest of the day on his own. I now know he was tired and out of sorts and just needed to get some rest. My mind went somewhere else entirely, and I got all paranoid that I had freaked him out. So much for the grace of 30.

In the midst of all this nonsense, plus a friend’s breakup, I’ve had time to reflect on the difference between dating in your 20s and dating in your 30s. When asking someone out, a 20-something worries about humiliation and a 30-something worries how many times she’s going to have to do it before she gets a yes. When declaring feelings, a 20-something worries about ruining the relationship by saying something too soon (Quiet, you. I was reflexively worried because he’s a 20-something.), and a 30-something worries he’s going to find out the relationship has run its course. When a 20-something doesn’t return the feelings, she feels that she’s leading the guy on and has to break up with him. When a 30-something doesn’t return the feelings, she waits to see if she’ll get there at some point. A dumping can go a couple of ways for a 20-something. The depression route has a 20-something feeling unlovable and inadequate. The anger route has a 20-something feeling outraged that anyone could dare think he is unlovable or inadequate. A 30-something is sad it didn’t work out, and worried about how long he’s going to have to wait to get laid again.

Essentially, the grace of 30 is realizing that shit doesn’t work out, and it’s not a referendum on you. I hope I give anyone younger relief that things do get better or maybe even the inspiration to get there faster.

5 simple rules to not tempt the fates

1. Don't care about the outcome. Sadly, you can't be jinxed when you no longer give a shit. 

2. Proceed with caution. We all know jinxes gain in power. Tell one person you're dating someone at a time. Announce that the team is going to win it's first round game instead of saying the tournament is ours this year. Be sure to leave enough time for the power of the first jinx to wear off before recommitting it.

3. Hedge, hedge, hedge some more. Throw as many qualifiers in as possible. The fates are easily confused by semantics.

4. Be one step ahead. It's possible to foil a jinx by out-thinking the fates. Carry an umbrella so it won't rain, tell everyone it's not that serious so he'll decide to commit.

5. Strengthen your support system. It will rain if one of your friends forgets his umbrella. He will disappear without calling if one of your friends tells everyone she's sure he's into you. If people can't back you up on not jinxing shit, you need to think about whether you need those kinds of people in your life.

The toothbrush, resolved, probably

The great mystery of the toothbrush has been mostly cleared up. Of course I was right all along. I say mostly cleared up because the BT doesn’t remember any of it.

In those early days of dating (you know, a few weeks ago), this was the situation:

He said

Man, we get along so well. I can tell this girl anything and I don’t even care. Add in a sex life and this is a great situation before she starts asking for more. Shit, she wants me to leave a toothbrush here, it begins…

She said

Man, we get along so well. This guy can tell me anything and he doesn’t even care. Add in a sex life and this a great situation to really get to know each other. Shit, he wants to borrow some books, who knows if I’ll ever see those again…

Having discussed this whole thing, we have agreed that toothbrushes are not relationship makers. I’ll let you know when one actually shows up at my apartment. And yes, the books are back with their rightful owner.

Lodged in my throat

I basically got outclassed by the BT on the whole DTR thing. There was more to the conversation than what’s in the last blog post. I had to tell the BT that I was fine with the label, but I wasn’t there myself. Having a few days to think it over, I realized how silly I’m being. So I got myself all psyched up to go out with him and his coworkers. And then, we’re standing there, I’m waiting to introduce myself to someone who’s just arrived, I’m thinking how I’ll say my name and that I’m the BT’s girlfriend, and I hesitated. Just long enough that he jumped in and made the introduction himself.

I’ve been saying that it bothers me how high school it sounds to have a boyfriend. If I had a better word, I’d feel ok about using it. That’s pretty much bullshit though. If I have to say something, I say “the guy I’m dating,” but if I can avoid it, I won’t say anything. So what about it bothers me so much?

Here’s what’s been floating around in the mix:

1. Yucky love stuff is private. “Guy I’m dating” sounds casual, boyfriend sounds less so. I don’t feel comfortable gushing to people about the guys I date. So saying someone is my boyfriend implies to people that I have strong feelings about the guy. God knows why I care if they know that.

2. I HATE what I call “my boyfriend” people. You know those people who no matter what the topic of conversation is, the first sentence out of their mouths starts with my boyfriend. Or my husband or my girlfriend or whatever. I never ever want to be that person. But it’s hard sometimes when you’re in a relationship because you spend a lot of time with that person so lots of the things you talk about involve them too. That’s when the lying/obfuscating begins for me. I’ll either not clarify who the other person is in we or I’ll say a friend.

3. Just because I have a boyfriend, doesn’t mean you can treat me like I’m in a relationship. A long time ago, I was working in a rural area over the summer while I was still in college. The first question everyone asked me was if I had a boyfriend. I was shocked. Who doesn’t ask a college student what they’re majoring in? The only thing worse is, of course, you’re so [pretty, successful, nice, smart], why don’t you have a boyfriend? If people are evaluating me based on whether or not I have a boyfriend, I’d rather they think I didn’t.

4. Just because I have a boyfriend, doesn’t mean I’m not single. Being single is a big part of my identity. I had a group of friends I met the same time I met the last guy I dated seriously. They had this totally warped view of me because they never knew me single. I kept saying that the single me was the real me. I’m not a “my boyfriend” girl. I’d rather be single than in a bad relationship. I’m content (and sometimes prefer) to go to movies alone. I hate it when a guy I’m dating wants to become Netflix friends. I can’t have people thinking I’m just like other girls.

5. The fix is always in on this one. This came courtesy of a friend, but I agree wholeheartedly that the minute you tell someone you have a boyfriend, the guy dumps you.

After achieving minor success on this issue with some older co-workers, I just found myself in boyfriend avoidance to the guy I work with who’s my own age. If I had to guess the reason in this situation, I’d say it’s a combination of number 1 and number 5. I don’t want him to know I have strong feelings especially when part of me is waiting for this all to blow up.

How to have a DTR

BT: I’ve been calling you my girlfriend to people, is that ok?

Me: Yeah. My friend introduced you to people as my boyfriend last night.

The toothbrush

Apologies for the posting delays. In my rush to share with the BT, I brought up the blog. Then I had to hide it, and was afraid to post anything to it in case he had already found it. I’ve since been green-lighted to keep posting. So this issue is a couple of weeks old. 

I admit to being a little bit at war with myself as I’m dating the BT. As many commitment issues as I have, I can’t stand the anxiety of new relationships. I just want to get to the part where we’re completely comfortable with each other. I know, I know, I’m the anti-romantic. One aspect of this is my willingness to start leaving things at each other’s apartments. First off, I absolutely hate carrying things. Mainly because I’m lazy, but also because I don’t like having a big ol’ purse with me to attract thieves. And while I get very uncomfortable at the thought that I’ll have to unfriend someone after we break up, the $2 I lose on the extra toothbrush doesn’t bother me in the slightest.

So after a couple of times when the BT forgot his toothbrush on a night he was staying at my house, I offered to buy him one. He laughed it off, saying he was extremely fussy about his toothbrush choices. The next time he forgot, I offered again. And got a similar response. I wasn’t keeping count, but it’s likely I said something on the next occasion as well. And the next time, I was about to say something when it occurred to me if I brought it up one more time I was going to start making a federal issue out of it. The light bulb went off when he left a bottle of near empty contact lens solution at my house and then remembered to take it back the next weekend. The most he’s willing to do is leave a contact lens case in the afternoon if he's returning that night.

I can’t figure this out. What does it mean? Or doesn’t it? And how long do I have to wait before I can leave a stupid toothbrush at his place?

How not to have a DTR

I’m absolutely amazed that I’ve made it this far into the blog without writing about the Determine the Relationship (DTR). I suppose the reason that I haven’t written about it is because I avoid having DTRs at all costs. Talking about a relationship inevitably involves talking about my feelings and talking about feelings falls into the category of yucky love stuff. Yucky love stuff is not my thing.

So I can’t complain that I’m pretty confused as to what the status of my current relationship is. If you’re counting, I’ve been dating my boy toy (BT) for about a month. (Anniversaries less than a year also count as yucky love stuff, but in this case we met the night of a monthly event so it’s easy to keep track. And it’s not like I celebrated it.) I wouldn’t even be wondering what the status is except that I accidentally brought it all up. But being me, rather than taking it as an opportunity to clear things up, I just proceeded to mulishly refuse to commit to anything one way or the other. But let me take you through the sequence of events.

The BT and I spent our first full day together this weekend. We have a lot of scheduling conflicts that typically mean going our separate ways the morning after. That night, over dinner, he was telling me all the things that make him a good roommate. I pointed out that for all the good he does, he also got caught making out with his girlfriend in the living room when his roommate came home. Which, of course, would have been a totally innocent thing to say if it were a story he had told me about some other girl. Being the girl in question, however, I just sat there thinking, oh shit. That's not what I meant. I spent a couple of seconds thinking, should I say that's not what I meant?, then opted not to draw further attention to me unceremoniously dumping girlfriend into a conversation after we'd spent our first whole day together. And the very awkward moment passed.

Then later we were talking about when we first met and he finally admitted he was just trying to get laid that night. Well, duh. But he couldn't (or wouldn't) really explain why he called me later. I got the chance to admit I was seeing someone else. But then that's where I got myself into trouble again. I should have kept my mouth shut because one thing led to another, and I think I agreed to be exclusive. It's all kind of hazy, but he said something about not wanting to see other people and I tried to counter with do whatever you want, just don't have sex. I said I didn't care, but he said he did. So this is where I was supposed to say, women in their 30s dating guys in their 20s cannot in good conscience agree to be exclusive. Except I didn’t. I didn’t say anything at all.

And then, to cap it all off, he did the same thing back to me. I can't remember what he said, but it was the same abstract use of girlfriend that also related to us personally. So, to sum up, I may or may not be dating someone who considers himself my boyfriend and might expect me to be exclusive. If I weren't such a coward, I'd learn to do this right.

Find me a find

So the topic for today’s blog is matchmaking (what, you don’t know the lyrics from Fiddler on the Roof?). This came up when a friend of mine looked into a matchmaking service that cost $800 for five dates. She balked at the cost— a single woman’s gotta be smart about putting money into savings. I said she should pay it although I think there should be some sort of guarantee with the money. I mean Match.com will give you another three months free if after six you don’t find anyone.

Apologies to the accounting geeks, but I’m not going to try to come up with a present value calculation of a spouse. Needless to say, it’s considerable, especially for men who for some reason get paid more once they’re married. So $800 is cheap when you think about it. However, considering some of the bad dates I’ve been on, $800 to do something you’re not assured you’re going to like is way too much money. Maybe that’s where the matchmaking does come in though. I’ve had plenty of good dates that I didn’t want to take further, but was happy I went on. If matchmaking can at least make sure you’ll get along, that’s something.

It all comes down to whether or not matchmaking is a valuable service. I like to believe it is, Millionaire Matchmaker aside. Sorry, but she pisses me off with her regressive views about dating. Not that I’ve actually seen the show, just heard her on Tyra. But I believe in the work of specialists, of hiring someone to do something you can’t or don’t feel like doing yourself.

But then I question whether it is a skill. Does a matchmaker really match? Or is it just someone who knows enough people of both sexes and puts them together based on all the things we’d do anyway—similar backgrounds, educations, values, etc. In which case, you’re just paying for a vetting service. Not worth $800 unless you’re the type of person who constantly finds themselves going out with losers and sleezeballs.

At this point, you may be wondering why I think she should do it. Well there’s a stereotype about us focused, ambitious career gals that we’re willing to pursue a ring with the same determination we put to our careers. I reject that stereotype because frankly, if I wanted to get married that badly, I’m sure I could. However, I don’t see anything wrong with pursuing love with that level of determination. Advancing my career took great personal sacrifice, years of unmitigatable stress, and a hefty chunk of change. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to do the same to find someone you can have a long-term relationship with.

Compare and contrast

If you’ve learned anything about me by reading this blog, it’s that I take a pretty rational approach to dating. Pros and cons, red flags and bonus points, test questions, and feelings all figure into the mix when I’m trying to make up my mind about a guy. It’s not a coincidence that feelings are last on that list. Part of it is out of necessity. My gut luvs a wounded bird. Show me a nice guy who’s struggling to get it together and my gut will call out to help him. No, gut, no! So you can see why it’s best to substitute rational thinking when my feelings get involved.

When I compare the two guys I’m dating, I find I’m going in opposite directions on each. Rationally, the glasses guy has the advantage. He has long-term potential. It’s stupid to get involved with someone whose priorities are completely different than mine. But my feelings are telling me something else. I am in full-on crush territory with my boy toy while glasses guy’s assumption that I’d accompany him home after our last date left me very uncomfortable*.

Head or heart? Is it ok to have an inconsistent policy? In terms of the glasses guy, the decision is easy. My rational mind is not dumb enough to ignore my gut when it sounds an alarm. With the other guy, my gut is having no problem ignoring my rational mind. It’s not a fair fight, either. Rationality stands alone; Feelings gets to bring along Hormones into the ring. And we all know how much of a punch hormones can pack.

Ok, enough torturing that metaphor. This is all going to end badly. Hopefully it will make for some good blogging.

* I wasn’t altogether sure if I’d hear from the guy again after refusing his offer, but I got an email from him today. I never get an easy out.

Since when do things work this way?

I seem to be living in an alternate dating universe where I do everything wrong but it all comes out ok in the end. The first wrong move was giving my number to some guy I met in a club. But I ended up having a great date with him. Next, I did something that somewhat goes against my personal standards. I don’t believe in giving my dates tests. Generally, testing on dates means setting someone up to fail. And my test fits that rule too however honestly I present it as a choice between two viable options.

Option 1: Have sex with me on the first date. Run the very high risk that I will freak out about it, get awkward, and never want to see you again.

Option 2: Don’t have sex with me and be assured of seeing me again.

The first time I issued the test the guy chose option 1. He was utterly convinced that I would not freak out and would want to see him again. This was a strange conviction since I had never agreed to go out with him in the first place—I was attending his house party as a friend when he basically attacked me after working up enough liquid courage. Needless to say, I block-sendered his ass the next day. The conviction was doubly unfounded when you consider he had no skills in bed.

The second time I issued the test the guy chose option 2. He took me at my word and definitely wanted to see me again. I gave him the choice not because I had no real interest in the guy like last time but because I liked him and didn’t want to fuck it up. So rather than being told to grow up and ask for what I want, I got all the foreplay that had been missing from before and then some.

What do I do next? Invite the guy out to trivia night with my friends before our planned second date. Let me just double check myself here. Yup, in my list of relationship milestones you should definitely have more than one date before meeting the friends. The guy should not be up for this (oh god, she’s going to give me a drawer for a third date!!!), and he should not come out, have a good time, get a shitload of questions right, and then want to see me again. Lucky for me, the reason he came out was that almost none of my friends showed. I spent the night in awe of his skills and waiting for someone to figure out he was only 23.

The date where I show up and I’ve already met the guy

I was very nervous about the traditional date for a couple of reasons. First, what would we talk about?! I didn’t have a whole profile on the guy that I could study from beforehand. Second, he did not cop to his age when we met at the club. I knew he was getting a master’s degree, but not how long he’d been at it. I guessed him around 25, which moved out of my age range last birthday. Third, I mean seriously, how could this possibly turn out well. You do not meet a guy in a club, exchange a handful of shouted words at each other, and then find out you’re a good match. You’re supposed to meet a guy in a club, exchange a handful of shouted words, and then have him text you two nights later for a booty call. 

Well, I guessed wrong on all three counts. There were lots of things to talk about. We managed to cover politics, religion, our upbringings, our families, and lots of other things. It was the kind of date where you’re so excited to bring things up, you end up interrupting yourself. And we are a surprisingly good match (so far—early days). Despite having completely opposite backgrounds, we’re well matched on our beliefs and values. Also, we both know what it’s like to be saddled with glasses in elementary school and to never have a date in high school.

Of course there’s a catch. I don’t have a problem dating younger men. But much younger men? What am I going to do with a 23 year old? Ok, I can think of some good answers to that. All joking aside, I'm not one to throw back what the universe sends me, and right now it has sent me the first guy in a long time that I can connect with. The relationship has no future so at some point if exclusivity becomes a problem I'll have to deal with that. In the mean time, I'm doing myself a favor by seeing someone whose company I really enjoy. Stupid universe.

Raining again

It’s annoying how dating is feast or famine. Ok, so after meeting a couple of duds, I ended up going out on a good date. As much as I curse this evil time of year for making me sneeze and cough, the high pollen count did do me a solid. The guy I was meeting changed out of his contact lenses because his eyes were so irritated and wore glasses to our first meet up. Mmmmm, I love me a guy in glasses.

Then that weekend a friend and I went out dancing at the hipster club in my neighborhood. It’s fun to go dancing there because they play music I like and the guys don’t try to grope you. My friend quickly got picked up by a guy and sort of left me dancing on my own. This eventually led to me being approached by a guy. He kept a respectful distance, so who am I to complain? My friend ended the night making out with her guy; I ended it turning down an offer for a "guaranteed good time" (it was sincere and cute in person). But I gave him my number. I used to never give out my number until I tried it a couple of times and realized they never call anyway.

To my utter shock, he did contact me. We swapped a couple of texts then kicked it over to email. From there we got into the pattern of swapping several short emails throughout the day. To my even greater shock, his emails were funny and smart. So we agreed to go for drinks that weekend. At which point I got incredibly nervous. No kidding on how pervasive online dating is, I can’t even remember the last time I went out on a traditional date.

Conversational black hole

I guess the vetting process works pretty well for online dating, because I’m actually surprised it took until now for this to happen. I went out with a guy and ended up in a disagreement about animal welfare. Uh-oh. The one issue that I just can't get behind at all. For the continuing anonymous record:

Animals can’t talk. That makes them inferior to people.

Doesn’t mean I’d eat a developmentally disabled person. And aren’t you an idiot for trying to equate the two.

I would, however, eat a chimp. Animals is animals; peoples is peoples. It’s not a spectrum.

All of those points came up in our discussion. So I defused the situation by hedging and saying that we can agree that choosing more humane ways to raise animals is better than less. Which is almost a complete lie, but storming out didn't seem like a good way to go. And it was irrelevant because he had smaller hands than I do and no lips. So we parted ways and then he emailed me the next day asking me out. But he made this big thing like it should be a date and someone should pay. Someone? You asked me out, how is the payer unclear? Apparently, one can love animals but eat them and like me but not buy me dinner.

The triumph of the internet

Lately, I’ve been lamenting the fact that after about a year of living here no one has asked me out in person. (This post is a week late—I met a guy last weekend who asked me out.) I used to get asked out all the time where I was living before; I thought my numbers would go up living in the city. And I thought I’d even want to say yes to the guys who asked.

So I was pleasantly surprised when reading the comments section of some crap article on dating in Salon. A commenter mentioned that online dating has become so pervasive that no one asks people out in person. She mentioned receiving a message from a guy through the online dating site that said he saw her in a café, recognized her from her profile picture, then went home and emailed her! Sure it’s an extreme example, but I’m beginning to wonder if that’s true. If online dating makes it so much easier to ask people out and provides an endless supply of potential dates that doing it the old fashioned way has lost a lot of its appeal. I’ve been doing all this online dating thinking it’s passing the time while I wait for Mr. Right to show up. What if no one bothers showing up anymore?

The newbie

Oh man. Some background on the guy—he went to a notoriously liberal university then joined the Army. Now a military man is not my cup of tea, normally. I’m not into following rules, short hair, or wearing navy blue and black together (I’m talking to you, Marines!). But I thought, great, I’ll get the best of both worlds: a liberal, progressive guy who’s actually manly. As opposed to the limp-wristed type I normally get.

People who are more familiar with the military than I am are likely shaking their heads at my naiveté. He was not manly. He wasn’t even in shape! I was once again a victim of very old pictures. Which he admitted and then asked if having a beard now was false advertising. It might be if it weren’t overwhelmed by the extra 40 pounds and the new hairline.

We had a fun night together, he drank too much, and then tried to walk me home. To be fair, it was my idea for him to walk me home. But then, when I asked him to be more situationally aware, he didn’t know what I was talking about. He was in Iraq! Don’t even analysts have to go to boot camp? Whatever, I was forced to deposit his drunk ass at the nearest bus stop because I was safer on my own.

Hotmail is the new cool

Ok, two things apparently really stand out about me because the guys I’ve been dating can’t seem to stop commenting on it. The first is my hotmail account. The comments range from surprise to snarky, but everyone seems to get some kind of kick out of my hotmail address. But I see no reason to give up a perfectly good email address just because Amazon sold it to anyone who would pay. Of course, what should be perfectly obvious is that this is my spam address. Dating candidates have to earn the upgrade to gmail, with the added bonus of my real last name.

The second is how fast I pee. Put those smart phones away guys because I will literally be back before you know it. I’m sad that I’m keeping this anonymous because I’d like to broadcast that the secret to my incredible speed isn’t that I skip washing my hands. I’m always worried that’s what people think when I arrive back at the table in record time. So, for the record, I do wash my hands.

Outtakes

A guy just emailed to say that I was every "reasonable man's dream." I love this. What would an unreasonable man's dream be? Me, three inches taller? Even bigger boobs? Blonde hair? Less education? More education? 10 pounds skinner? Having listed blow jobs in the things I'm good at section? I guess I should just be relieved I'm not too good to be true.

A friend and I both got messages from the same 19 year old. I'm glad to know he doesn't think only men are willing to rob the cradle. I also got "favorited" by a 51 year old. My oldest to date.

True to my inability to attract a bad boy, I just found out that my friend has been getting messages from guys who expose their cocks in their profile pictures. Jeez, put together the cash and pay for a hooker. We don't need that kind of nastiness.

Blank profiles, grrrrrrr. Why would I talk to someone who refuses to tell me anything.

Guys who refuse to email, grrrrrrrrrrrr. One of these was the same one who refused to put anything in his profile. More generally, they write or email that they don't want to exchange a lot of emails, they want to go out right away. What about ONLINE dating is unclear?

In other news, I've got a date with an online newbie this week. I hate the newbies-- they get so worked up over the first meeting. It's such a turn off when a guy is already completely invested in something that has about a 10% chance of working out.

But I don't wanna

I know, I know, another post about Marxism. Here’s what I don’t get though. A guy contacted me on the boutique website and after a couple of emails, I wasn’t feeling it. So then I move to the new website and he immediately contacts me again. I explain some of my reluctance—wasn’t feeling much of a connection through email, but not all—you’re not hot enough to pull off 5’6”. So two questions emerge. 

1. Should I have just told him he’s not hot enough to be that short?

2. Given my reluctance, why is he still trying to get me to go out with him?

The first I can’t answer. I honestly don’t know if it’s better to tell the truth. The second seems to me to be Marxism. I’m more attractive because of my reluctance. Which is stupid except that on this website, they tell you how often the person responds to emails. And I can’t help but want to contact the “rarely responds” people to see if I can get them to write back. It just seems like more of a win. (I can’t tell what my stats are like, it may be too early.)

In the meantime, I’m forcing myself not to contact anyone. I’ve got Guy Who Won’t Go Away, Guy Who Ended Up Emailing Me Back, and New Army Guy. I’m sticking to my plan of not going crazy with this. Wish me luck.

Addicting

Ok, I am back in the online dating game. It’s so addictive! I’m trying out yet another site, which is free (hooray!) because the couple of guys I’ve emailed on the other site have not emailed me back. I actually got an auto-reply from one of them that said he doesn’t check the account that often. Well fair enough, but I don’t feel any better for knowing that, and now I don’t know when I’m actually being rejected. Who thought that was a good idea?

And some five minutes after signing up on the new site, I got this message:

“I don't know if we could date. I'm pretty sure you'd end up hurting me in the end; you look like a hitter :)”

What was that thought process like? “Hmm, she seems cute. But kind of intense (violent, serious, intimidating?). I’ll email and tell her she looks like an abuser and see if she thinks that’s funny.”

Yeah, I don’t think that’s funny or attractive. I think you need to go back to the drawing board and think about what it means to make a pass at someone.

I should not be glorying in my return to popularity, but it’s so hard not to. Also, this blog gets boring when weirdos aren’t messaging me. It’s pretty much a win/win. Either he’s actually cute or interesting or he’s someone I can make fun of here. Hey, don't think too little of me. Clearly karma is a bitch because I'm still single.

I'm not the one who should be writing this blog

I went out this weekend with a fellow soldier in the online dating war. Her dating horror stories completely blew mine out the water. I’ll pass on one anecdote—she actually had a guy cry on their date! Said guy was shorter and fatter than advertised. Additionally, he said he didn’t drink in his profile and then wanted to go for a beer. Then, on the date, he started talking about his mother who died several years ago and started crying. As of now, she no longer considers dating guys in their 40s.

In the meantime, I’m slowly working on scaring up another date for myself. I’m basically a lurker—my profile isn’t very visible so I don’t get contacted very often. Although two 39 year olds just wanted to say hey yesterday. I guess absolutely nothing deters old dudes from contacting younger women.

Back in the Saddle

This is just too hilarious not to post. Courtesy of Washington Post’s Date Lab*:

     Pier: I told him in the middle of the date that I did not know why we were put together. We were talking about our dating history, and he was telling me about some of the girls [who] dropped him and didn't explain why after, in his eyes, they had an amazing date. I thought, I don't want him to look at this when it's published and say, "Pier did the same thing to me." So I'm like, let me go ahead and tell him now that I don't see this going anywhere.

     Jeremy: She was really honest. I appreciate that. I did feel a little chemistry, but I can understand why she did not feel that much with me.

And a little later…

     Jeremy: I jumped on the train and thought, Crap, I didn't ask for her number. If I had [gotten her number], I would definitely have given it a shot.

So to recap, she says she’s not interested, he understands, then twenty minutes later he’s thinking he should have asked for her phone number. There is just no hope for some people. Props to Pier for trying though.

In other news, my date went well last night. Although, I haven’t heard from him today, so perhaps not as well as I thought. Oh dear, I am the Jeremy of the date!

* WP sets people up on blind dates and then interviews them afterward.

Toe in the water

In case you missed it, I was on dating hiatus. I resigned my online account and enjoyed the silence. Dating is just so damn unrewarding. All that effort for six months and I came away with nothing. Well, that’s not true. I found out I’m not diabetic and got a free A/V receiver. And several people confirmed that lack of foreplay does mean he’s just not that into me.

But if I was hoping for a relationship or some more insight on how to get into a relationship, I pretty much came up blank. Feel free to post any lessons you think I should have learned in the comments section. Cuz I’m at a loss.

The reason I’m casting about for insight is that I have dipped a tentative toe back into the water of online dating. I wish I could say that it’s because I’m ready for love, blah blah blah, but the truth is that I have to stop spending money. And once I can’t shop for stuff online, well, that only leaves men.

One big change I’m making is that I didn’t re-sign up for the mass meat market. I’m going boutique this time, with a site aimed towards lefty singles. I’m hoping the move to boutique eliminates all the guys who don’t read, don’t like to talk about ideas, and live in suburbs I’ve never heard of.

The second change I’m making is to be more discriminating. In the end, I didn’t manage to stay friends with any of the guys I met online. So no more giving every guy a shot. If he can’t spark my interest—no date. I can’t be going on three dates a week again. The little voice in my head that says what if that guy is way better looking than his picture and you didn’t give him a shot? is just going to have shut up.

So stay tuned. I have a date next week with a guy who seems interesting and attractive. Fingers crossed.

To friend or not to friend

Oh my god. I just got a facebook invitation from an old boyfriend's mother! What could that possibly be about? Why would I want to give her access to my personal life?

I don't get it

This is something that’s been bothering me for a while, but it hadn’t all come together in my mind. Last night, a friend brought up that she hadn’t seen Twilight, bringing on a favorite rant of mine. I saw Twilight, and I hated it—I would have left after the first half hour but I was with other people. I was telling her that the story (as far as the movie goes) only works on the “most popular guy in school wants to be with me!” level. I don’t find that romantic.

I realize now this is my problem with Jane Austen. I’ve had a long standing debate over this with my sister who thinks Mr. Darcy (Pride and Prejudice) is the greatest romantic figure of fiction, while I think it’s Mr. Rochester (Jane Eyre). The thing about Mr. Darcy is that he’s handsome, rich, and has a really big house. While poor Mr. Rochester is not handsome and some crazy lady burns down his big house leaving him permanently disabled to boot. Elizabeth Bennet wins a total catch and the big fancy house while Jane Eyre ends up with a mostly blind, one handed recluse.

Happier ending notwithstanding, I’m stumped as to what makes Pride and Prejudice so romantic. Mr. Darcy falls in love with a striking, intelligent, sassy woman and puts aside the fact she is lower in status and has an annoying family. Not really much of a triumph of love, but winning Mr. Darcy brings a lot of glory onto Elizabeth Bennet. Not only does she get the big house, she gets the satisfaction of knowing that she is the envy of other women. Ditto Bella. Every teenage girl wants whatever the dude’s name is in Twilight. My suspicion is that it’s our desire to get the one everyone wants and no one can have that is the source of the romance.

My problem is I can’t relate to this storyline at all. I never wanted the most popular guy in my school. This is likely true at least in part out of my perverse need not to be like everyone else. But I tend to go for the arty or alternative guy. I’ve had deep, painful crushes on guys I’m sure would have been shocked to realize that anyone had deep, painful crushes on them. Which is the crux of Mr. Rochester’s appeal. He is the only one who notices that the plain, small, servant in his house is intelligent and sassy, and she is the only one who loves him for anything other than his money. What could be more romantic than loving someone for her true self?

I wonder if I’m also a victim of this romantic ideal. It seems like my appeal often stems from my popularity rather than from any real aspect of my personality. At first Mr. Darcy worries that women only want him for his money. Is it any better that they want him because getting him makes them feel better about themselves? Or am I a) completely missing the appeal of this storyline, and b) too untrusting of men? Maybe I’m the version of Mr. Darcy who dismisses everyone thinking they only care about what he can do for them and is blind to the perfect person.