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.