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.