Well, I can say for sure that when I began this blog (not that long ago) I had no expectation of sliding into a relationship so soon. And yet, here I am: in a relationship. And it's a good one, if new.
What to do? Is there anything more deadly dull than a dating blog that has turned into a "lah-dee-dah, I'm in a relationship" blog? This bears no reflection on those of you lucky dating bloggers who are also now enjoying secure relationships. Ahem. I speak for myself. Because, honestly, what am I to write about?
I'm not counting chickens prior to hatching or anything, but at this very early point in our relationship, I have to say that I am impressed with our ability to communicate. I think if that we can keep this up, we'll be in good shape.
But here's something you can weigh in on (if you dare): My relationships have usually topped out somewhere in the 4 - 7-month range--most often ended by yours truly. At the 2 - 3-month mark, I tend to lose interest sexually, and I think this is because this is the point where I realize that we are mentally/emotionally incompatible. Of course, my fear is that I have a viciously low libido that can't sustain over longer hauls. I argue (with myself, it's true) that my libido is just terribly sensitive and can't keep the fires stoked if the attraction has died on the mental/emotional level. Has anyone else experienced this? Or can you even fathom that this could be a possibility? I appreciate your reassurance. ;)
Because Guy is just dear and so generous and sweet. I'd like us to keep going, and I guess this is one of those things where only time will tell.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Amore
Don't you hate it when you say those three little words before you mean to?
I blame it on the sunny day and bright leaves twirling through the air. Such a simple thing could conceivably trick a person into saying "I love you." One moment you are half blinded by the sun and the other moment you're looking at your Person and the words just fly out of your mouth.
For the record, he said it.
It's soon, I know, and whereas I have freaked out in previous too-soon situations, I am definitely not freaking out now. I am thrilled, yes, (okay, LV, here is the giddy!) and I know that this isn't a declaration of Future but of Now. (If I thought too much about Future at this early point, I would be freaked out.)
He said "I love you" as I was dropping him off, and it was accidental. He didn't take it back, though, and instead his eyes watered and he blushed. I didn't say it back because even though it's crossed my mind that I could get there, I just wasn't prepared. My heart (in all it's practicality) leapt. I said, "You do?!"
I know he felt terrible about the timing. He'd asked me earlier today about my last relationship and why it had ended (which was a perfectly fair question; I'd asked him about his and his ex-wife's dissolution last week). I'd told him some of the things about Bill that I couldn't live with but said that it ultimately came down to me not being in love with him. I said that Bill had made it very clear that he loved me and that I just couldn't return the fervor and that it had been too much pressure.
And not 45 minutes later, Guy blurted the L-word.
We're just in the beginning stages. Everything is exciting and new and possible. We haven't had lulls or doldrums yet. Or disagreements. Or challenges of any kind. So isn't it too early to declare Love yet?
I don't think so. We all know what a shifty creature Love is, meaning one thing to a certain person at a particular place, at a particular time. And it can mean something else entirely as quick as a wink. This doesn't bother me.
So I'll take Guy's love and return it and continue getting to know him. Time will tell whether we have what it takes to ride out the inevitable storms--or even if we want to. For now, it's wonderful to be loved (no matter the definition). To drag out that tired cliche: Today is all we've got. I'll risk the possibly premature ardor.
PS: I met his dad yesterday--a lovely man who seemed very interested in meeting me. (Which means I must've been talked up over the Thanksgiving table.)
I blame it on the sunny day and bright leaves twirling through the air. Such a simple thing could conceivably trick a person into saying "I love you." One moment you are half blinded by the sun and the other moment you're looking at your Person and the words just fly out of your mouth.
For the record, he said it.
It's soon, I know, and whereas I have freaked out in previous too-soon situations, I am definitely not freaking out now. I am thrilled, yes, (okay, LV, here is the giddy!) and I know that this isn't a declaration of Future but of Now. (If I thought too much about Future at this early point, I would be freaked out.)
He said "I love you" as I was dropping him off, and it was accidental. He didn't take it back, though, and instead his eyes watered and he blushed. I didn't say it back because even though it's crossed my mind that I could get there, I just wasn't prepared. My heart (in all it's practicality) leapt. I said, "You do?!"
I know he felt terrible about the timing. He'd asked me earlier today about my last relationship and why it had ended (which was a perfectly fair question; I'd asked him about his and his ex-wife's dissolution last week). I'd told him some of the things about Bill that I couldn't live with but said that it ultimately came down to me not being in love with him. I said that Bill had made it very clear that he loved me and that I just couldn't return the fervor and that it had been too much pressure.
And not 45 minutes later, Guy blurted the L-word.
We're just in the beginning stages. Everything is exciting and new and possible. We haven't had lulls or doldrums yet. Or disagreements. Or challenges of any kind. So isn't it too early to declare Love yet?
I don't think so. We all know what a shifty creature Love is, meaning one thing to a certain person at a particular place, at a particular time. And it can mean something else entirely as quick as a wink. This doesn't bother me.
So I'll take Guy's love and return it and continue getting to know him. Time will tell whether we have what it takes to ride out the inevitable storms--or even if we want to. For now, it's wonderful to be loved (no matter the definition). To drag out that tired cliche: Today is all we've got. I'll risk the possibly premature ardor.
PS: I met his dad yesterday--a lovely man who seemed very interested in meeting me. (Which means I must've been talked up over the Thanksgiving table.)
Monday, November 16, 2009
Two Weeks and Two Days
It's been a short time since Guy #1 and I met, and we seem to have gravitated immediately towards a relationship. A little scary, if you ask me. Haven't I always said that the relationships that burn the brightest die the fastest? (Such a skeptic!)
He's a romantic and has an accompanying tender heart, which I love because it's so different from mine--rather matter-of-fact. He is effusive and appreciative and shy, too, which makes his sweet words ring all the more true. (See "skeptic" above--I usually take fair words with a hunk of salt.) Some of my friends met him at an event this weekend and ever since they've been telling me how great he is. "It's obvious he adores you," they say, "and he's so good looking!"
As it happens, yes and yes. But I love most how we can communicate with one another. This is true blue.
"For now," the skeptic says, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
He's a romantic and has an accompanying tender heart, which I love because it's so different from mine--rather matter-of-fact. He is effusive and appreciative and shy, too, which makes his sweet words ring all the more true. (See "skeptic" above--I usually take fair words with a hunk of salt.) Some of my friends met him at an event this weekend and ever since they've been telling me how great he is. "It's obvious he adores you," they say, "and he's so good looking!"
As it happens, yes and yes. But I love most how we can communicate with one another. This is true blue.
"For now," the skeptic says, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Adios Match!
Work is wild, but I am home (finally) and sipping at a particularly delicious Pinot Noir. Work may be wild, but life is good. Specifically: the love life.
Guy #1 and I had a wonderful day on Sunday. I met him at his home (which I loved for the imperfection of it) and we spent the gorgeous, fall day in the city. And here I confess that we didn't kiss on the first date. It was enough for me that the attraction was so obviously mutual. And we didn't kiss until close to the end of the second date. I don't regret the postponing and in this case the anticipation totally lived up to the delivery. Wow. But I didn't want to sleep with him on the second date.
We had our third date last night. Guy #1 drove over to my place and we ate and talked and kissed like crazy... and then talked about sex. This time around, I want to put to test the advice of Evan Mark Katz (and others): If you're looking for a relationship, don't sleep with a guy until you've had The Conversation. (Of course there are exceptions to this: Bill and I slept together before that conversation and he wanted a relationship with me more than anything; TOTGA and I never slept together--because I was waiting for that damn conversation! And a good thing I waited, too. He was a good guy, trying to do the right thing--but just not looking for a relationship with me.) I wasn't sure how to tell Guy #1 this, and I stumbled all over the place saying that I didn't mean this as an ultimatum of any sort, but that I just really didn't want to have sex until we knew where we were with each other. The sweet boy (man, that is--he's nine years older than me) said absolutely, of course--let's get to know each other better.
I can't tell you how good it felt to have that pressure lifted! Guy and I talked more, and I told him that more than anything I want to be able to share myself with another person. I know, heavy talk here, but isn't that the point of relationships? To fully be yourself with someone--and not your scratching, itching, belching "surface self" (these descriptives don't apply to me, of course) but your mental, emotional, physical self. Those things are so closely tied (I believe) and I've had a hard time sharing the mental/emotional side ... Anyway, clearly Guy is someone I can talk to about these things. He understood, says he too lives too much in his head and that he is working on that.
I love a man who's self-aware.
And here's the big news: after all of this talk, Guy told me that he'd taken down his profile on Match! I am so impressed that he didn't use that as a bargaining chip for sex.
Guy spent the night, and you know how novel it is to wake up for the first time next to that person who makes your stomach flip-flop.
I hid my Match profile today, too. I would have canceled it, but I signed up for a six-month subscription, and while I am optimistic about Guy and me, I am also a realist. Who knows?
Guy #1 and I had a wonderful day on Sunday. I met him at his home (which I loved for the imperfection of it) and we spent the gorgeous, fall day in the city. And here I confess that we didn't kiss on the first date. It was enough for me that the attraction was so obviously mutual. And we didn't kiss until close to the end of the second date. I don't regret the postponing and in this case the anticipation totally lived up to the delivery. Wow. But I didn't want to sleep with him on the second date.
We had our third date last night. Guy #1 drove over to my place and we ate and talked and kissed like crazy... and then talked about sex. This time around, I want to put to test the advice of Evan Mark Katz (and others): If you're looking for a relationship, don't sleep with a guy until you've had The Conversation. (Of course there are exceptions to this: Bill and I slept together before that conversation and he wanted a relationship with me more than anything; TOTGA and I never slept together--because I was waiting for that damn conversation! And a good thing I waited, too. He was a good guy, trying to do the right thing--but just not looking for a relationship with me.) I wasn't sure how to tell Guy #1 this, and I stumbled all over the place saying that I didn't mean this as an ultimatum of any sort, but that I just really didn't want to have sex until we knew where we were with each other. The sweet boy (man, that is--he's nine years older than me) said absolutely, of course--let's get to know each other better.
I can't tell you how good it felt to have that pressure lifted! Guy and I talked more, and I told him that more than anything I want to be able to share myself with another person. I know, heavy talk here, but isn't that the point of relationships? To fully be yourself with someone--and not your scratching, itching, belching "surface self" (these descriptives don't apply to me, of course) but your mental, emotional, physical self. Those things are so closely tied (I believe) and I've had a hard time sharing the mental/emotional side ... Anyway, clearly Guy is someone I can talk to about these things. He understood, says he too lives too much in his head and that he is working on that.
I love a man who's self-aware.
And here's the big news: after all of this talk, Guy told me that he'd taken down his profile on Match! I am so impressed that he didn't use that as a bargaining chip for sex.
Guy spent the night, and you know how novel it is to wake up for the first time next to that person who makes your stomach flip-flop.
I hid my Match profile today, too. I would have canceled it, but I signed up for a six-month subscription, and while I am optimistic about Guy and me, I am also a realist. Who knows?
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Second Date Soon!
I would rename Guy #1 with something more clever, but "Guy #1" is an auspicious title. What are the chances that I'd meet someone with whom I clicked so well on the first date? And not just any first date but the first Match date? Crazy.
We've been emailing every day and he called me the other night. There's been a lot of flirtation and just all around good stuff. Of course, per usual, I am starting to get a little worried: what if we're building up expectations of one another? What if the next time we see each other we're all, "Oh, never mind." It could happen.
I don't think it will. I think we'll get a good second date out of this on Sunday, for sure, and I know we're both hoping for more.
There are, of course, some really interesting details I wish I could share with you, but I don't want to be googled and found. Alas.
Guy #2 finally emailed me today. Busy week, he said and he asked about my schedule, which happens to be absolutely full for the next two weeks, thanks to Guy #1 and a BIG Work Thing. I'll email him back and suggest that we look two weeks out. I like him fine; I just can't picture myself with him. And it could be that he was nervous on the date or uninterested deep down or who knows?
Anyway, my fingers are crossed for Guy #1.
We've been emailing every day and he called me the other night. There's been a lot of flirtation and just all around good stuff. Of course, per usual, I am starting to get a little worried: what if we're building up expectations of one another? What if the next time we see each other we're all, "Oh, never mind." It could happen.
I don't think it will. I think we'll get a good second date out of this on Sunday, for sure, and I know we're both hoping for more.
There are, of course, some really interesting details I wish I could share with you, but I don't want to be googled and found. Alas.
Guy #2 finally emailed me today. Busy week, he said and he asked about my schedule, which happens to be absolutely full for the next two weeks, thanks to Guy #1 and a BIG Work Thing. I'll email him back and suggest that we look two weeks out. I like him fine; I just can't picture myself with him. And it could be that he was nervous on the date or uninterested deep down or who knows?
Anyway, my fingers are crossed for Guy #1.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
A Tale of Two Dates
I returned an hour or so ago from my second Match date. It was a fine enough date, as dates go, but how could Guy #2 measure up to yesterday's Guy #1? He couldn't.
Guy #2 is smart, interesting and successful--a good dresser, too. But I didn't feel at ease with him like I did with Guy #1. And that's important for me--the ability to feel like myself. (Although, perhaps that's too high an expectation for a first date?)
Funnily, both dates occurred at the same establishment. If I'm not careful, the staff are going to start thinking that I'm running a business of some sort!
Guy #1 and I have emailed several times since last night, making plans for our next date. He very much wants to see me during the week, but I am neck high in work and doubt that it will be possible. (Plus, I think it's OK to not be too easy at this juncture.) We have solid plans in the city next Sunday. I can't wait.
Whereas with Guy #1 I wanted nothing more than to kiss him, I really didn't have that same compulsion with Guy #2. It wasn't that he was unattractive--he is attractive, but there wasn't that same inexplicable, magic pull.
Oh and last night? I received a bunch of texts from Bill, trying to get me to go out with him. "No expectations," he said. Really? He later texted me after 1:00 a.m. to say that some day I would loosen up and that he wished he would be there. Jesus.
In the morning I texted back that I liked myself very well the way I was, thank you very much. (And besides, he didn't know that I had been on a great date all afternoon!) He responded immediately and apologized. See? Stupidity is what happens when you drink too much and text your ex. Be warned.
Super excited about Guy #1, though. This is hardly what I expected!
Guy #2 is smart, interesting and successful--a good dresser, too. But I didn't feel at ease with him like I did with Guy #1. And that's important for me--the ability to feel like myself. (Although, perhaps that's too high an expectation for a first date?)
Funnily, both dates occurred at the same establishment. If I'm not careful, the staff are going to start thinking that I'm running a business of some sort!
Guy #1 and I have emailed several times since last night, making plans for our next date. He very much wants to see me during the week, but I am neck high in work and doubt that it will be possible. (Plus, I think it's OK to not be too easy at this juncture.) We have solid plans in the city next Sunday. I can't wait.
Whereas with Guy #1 I wanted nothing more than to kiss him, I really didn't have that same compulsion with Guy #2. It wasn't that he was unattractive--he is attractive, but there wasn't that same inexplicable, magic pull.
Oh and last night? I received a bunch of texts from Bill, trying to get me to go out with him. "No expectations," he said. Really? He later texted me after 1:00 a.m. to say that some day I would loosen up and that he wished he would be there. Jesus.
In the morning I texted back that I liked myself very well the way I was, thank you very much. (And besides, he didn't know that I had been on a great date all afternoon!) He responded immediately and apologized. See? Stupidity is what happens when you drink too much and text your ex. Be warned.
Super excited about Guy #1, though. This is hardly what I expected!
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Two Phone Calls + Two Dates in Two Days
Last night I asked my friend, Matilda (not her name), her thoughts on Separated Mark. "You dated when you were separated, right? Am I being unreasonable?" I asked.
"I had sex when I was separated. I wasn't anywhere near ready for a relationship," she said and raised her eyebrows to emphasize the truth. Fair enough. I will let Mark off the hook.
Already this morning I've been on the phone with Guy #1 and Guy #2 (who will get actual names if our impending dates go well). The phone is exhausting to me, you know? But necessary. Very necessary. Guy #1 is on the shyer side but interesting and attractive in his profile--both in pictures and written words. He has a charming sense of humor. I felt the ping of attraction in our exchanges. Guy #2 is much chattier but we have things in common ... No ping of attraction, but who knows? I felt comfortable enough in our conversation that I agreed to meet him tomorrow.
Guy #1 and I are meeting in a couple of hours. Whew! Whirlwind days here.
UPDATE: A wonderful first date with Guy #1, as luck would have it, which has me worried since I know that the chance of this working out are so slim. The date lasted five hours and I enjoyed every moment of it. He's cute and humble and shy. That kind of guy I want to eat up with a spoon!
"I had sex when I was separated. I wasn't anywhere near ready for a relationship," she said and raised her eyebrows to emphasize the truth. Fair enough. I will let Mark off the hook.
Already this morning I've been on the phone with Guy #1 and Guy #2 (who will get actual names if our impending dates go well). The phone is exhausting to me, you know? But necessary. Very necessary. Guy #1 is on the shyer side but interesting and attractive in his profile--both in pictures and written words. He has a charming sense of humor. I felt the ping of attraction in our exchanges. Guy #2 is much chattier but we have things in common ... No ping of attraction, but who knows? I felt comfortable enough in our conversation that I agreed to meet him tomorrow.
Guy #1 and I are meeting in a couple of hours. Whew! Whirlwind days here.
UPDATE: A wonderful first date with Guy #1, as luck would have it, which has me worried since I know that the chance of this working out are so slim. The date lasted five hours and I enjoyed every moment of it. He's cute and humble and shy. That kind of guy I want to eat up with a spoon!
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
What Match Hath Wrought
I'd forgotten Match can be so overwhelming. I'm emailing three guys at the moment (ignoring others), and while I guess that doesn't seem like a lot, three is really my max. I don't know yet if any of these will turn into dates, all of them seem especially smart--which I like. So far I am liking my somewhat nerdy headline--it seems to attract literary types.
One guy, though, is going to have to be cut loose. Mark (not his name) writes freakin' long emails. His first email was short and funny but subsequent emails have been downright missives, and I just can't handle it. Men (ladies too!), keep your emails brief! Assume that the women (men) you are writing have scads (or even just five) other emails to read and either delete or respond to. The briefer you are, the more attractive you will be--because it'll be SO easy to write back to you!.
Mark also has another black mark against him: he's separated.
Now, I wasn't going to write him off immediately because of that technicality. Remember, his first email was a charmer. Instead, I thought I'd ask him about it. Sure enough, his wife is out of the house (not sure the exact details--not my business at this point) and they're heading towards divorce. He said he'd been through the range of emotions and felt relatively whole. Fair enough.
I asked him that before the weekend. Last night (and despite his long-ass emails) I thought I'd better ask him how long they've been separated. Guess what? A few months. (He didn't number the months, but I guess it could be anywhere from 3 - 12.) Uh, no.
See, I've dated guys 12 months out of the divorce shoot--12 months after the ink dried on divorce papers--and that was no joy. Essentially, the recently divorced (in my experience) aren't looking for another full-blown relationship (full of ups and downs)--they need something to heal the heart, a little easy lovin'. Which I understand, and I want to say, "A shame you didn't meet me five years ago."
Anyway, I'll have to bid Mark farewell. Not sure how, exactly--I suppose I'll just tell him the gentle truth. On the bright side, that will open a new spot in my "max of three" email queue.
One guy, though, is going to have to be cut loose. Mark (not his name) writes freakin' long emails. His first email was short and funny but subsequent emails have been downright missives, and I just can't handle it. Men (ladies too!), keep your emails brief! Assume that the women (men) you are writing have scads (or even just five) other emails to read and either delete or respond to. The briefer you are, the more attractive you will be--because it'll be SO easy to write back to you!.
Mark also has another black mark against him: he's separated.
Now, I wasn't going to write him off immediately because of that technicality. Remember, his first email was a charmer. Instead, I thought I'd ask him about it. Sure enough, his wife is out of the house (not sure the exact details--not my business at this point) and they're heading towards divorce. He said he'd been through the range of emotions and felt relatively whole. Fair enough.
I asked him that before the weekend. Last night (and despite his long-ass emails) I thought I'd better ask him how long they've been separated. Guess what? A few months. (He didn't number the months, but I guess it could be anywhere from 3 - 12.) Uh, no.
See, I've dated guys 12 months out of the divorce shoot--12 months after the ink dried on divorce papers--and that was no joy. Essentially, the recently divorced (in my experience) aren't looking for another full-blown relationship (full of ups and downs)--they need something to heal the heart, a little easy lovin'. Which I understand, and I want to say, "A shame you didn't meet me five years ago."
Anyway, I'll have to bid Mark farewell. Not sure how, exactly--I suppose I'll just tell him the gentle truth. On the bright side, that will open a new spot in my "max of three" email queue.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Run-in with TOTGA
Up to a certain point today, today was gorgeous and good, just as you would expect a Saturday in the Napa Valley to be. I puttered around the house and cleaned and prepared for an event tomorrow and did stuff. I decided to go shopping for food and other necessities, and so pulled on jeans and a top (one that emphasized my chest--an important factor as you will later see). I skipped the makeup (also important, as I am not blessed with perfect skintones and have lately been battling circles and bags) except for a shine of pink gloss.
I was happy; I smiled at clerks, chose my vegetables, treated myself to a new nail polish from OPI. (A wonderfully dark purple--so dark it's practically black.) And then I decided to dart into TJ's for beer and a salad. The moment I stepped into the store I saw him, TOTGA, and his girlfriend. My heart clenched and I made a beeline for the salads, making sure I stayed out of his line of sight. I skirted around to the beer section and grabbed a six-pack of Pilsner. So far, so good--I would make it out of TJ's with my treasures and without having to look at him.
As in a romantic comedy, I was foiled at the checkout. There they were, next to the checkout stand I was planning to use! I decided to continue with the plan and slipped into line, conveniently bending down to examine the chocolate on offer. Maybe I wouldn't be seen, but of course, the checkout stations at TJ's are designed to have the customers face each other ...
I felt ill; my hands were shaking. The checkout girl probably wondered what the heck was up with me. I looked up at TOTGA, pretending to have just seen him and smiled and said hey. He had the phone to his ear and smiled back, all calm, cool and collected--phased by my presence not in the least.
Of course.
I paid and left TJ's so quickly the automatic sliding door couldn't open fast enough. I probably appeared dramatic, but I couldn't stand to be in there. I felt nauseated for the next two hours.
Even without the makeup, I feel confident that I looked good (thanks to Mama and what she gave me). This counts for a fleeting something, as you ladies know.
I just wonder when I'll stop feeling this way. No matter how many times I tell myself he's an old geezer and a bit of an asshole for The Whole Thing*, I can't help but get Weird when I see him. Dammit.
*He wasn't an asshole. On a scale of 1 - 10, 10 being the worst, he was a 3-4 overall.
I was happy; I smiled at clerks, chose my vegetables, treated myself to a new nail polish from OPI. (A wonderfully dark purple--so dark it's practically black.) And then I decided to dart into TJ's for beer and a salad. The moment I stepped into the store I saw him, TOTGA, and his girlfriend. My heart clenched and I made a beeline for the salads, making sure I stayed out of his line of sight. I skirted around to the beer section and grabbed a six-pack of Pilsner. So far, so good--I would make it out of TJ's with my treasures and without having to look at him.
As in a romantic comedy, I was foiled at the checkout. There they were, next to the checkout stand I was planning to use! I decided to continue with the plan and slipped into line, conveniently bending down to examine the chocolate on offer. Maybe I wouldn't be seen, but of course, the checkout stations at TJ's are designed to have the customers face each other ...
I felt ill; my hands were shaking. The checkout girl probably wondered what the heck was up with me. I looked up at TOTGA, pretending to have just seen him and smiled and said hey. He had the phone to his ear and smiled back, all calm, cool and collected--phased by my presence not in the least.
Of course.
I paid and left TJ's so quickly the automatic sliding door couldn't open fast enough. I probably appeared dramatic, but I couldn't stand to be in there. I felt nauseated for the next two hours.
Even without the makeup, I feel confident that I looked good (thanks to Mama and what she gave me). This counts for a fleeting something, as you ladies know.
I just wonder when I'll stop feeling this way. No matter how many times I tell myself he's an old geezer and a bit of an asshole for The Whole Thing*, I can't help but get Weird when I see him. Dammit.
*He wasn't an asshole. On a scale of 1 - 10, 10 being the worst, he was a 3-4 overall.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
That's Not My Bag
New rule: I am not responding to men without their pictures.
I know, you're saying to yourselves, "Oh, Ruby! That's the first rule of online dating!" Well, I had it as a quasi rule before, and now it is a freakin' firm rule.
Why? I only have a moment to tell you before I rush to work.
BigD contacted me the other night. No pic, brief profile. What the heck? I was bored. I emailed him after work yesterday--something light and fluffy. He wrote back and I let the email sit. I try not to judge a person by their writing, knowing that many people can't arrange words to they adequately express themselves. But red flag: He wanted to meet right away. Um, I haven't even seen your picture, and I don't know anything about you! His last question "Have you read my profile ... All of it?" made me curious. He must have a clue in there because his profile was quite scant of info.
So this morning, while thinking of how to handle the sitch, I looked at his profile and googled his latest reads. My friends, the man is looking for a Dominant.
Next!
I know, you're saying to yourselves, "Oh, Ruby! That's the first rule of online dating!" Well, I had it as a quasi rule before, and now it is a freakin' firm rule.
Why? I only have a moment to tell you before I rush to work.
BigD contacted me the other night. No pic, brief profile. What the heck? I was bored. I emailed him after work yesterday--something light and fluffy. He wrote back and I let the email sit. I try not to judge a person by their writing, knowing that many people can't arrange words to they adequately express themselves. But red flag: He wanted to meet right away. Um, I haven't even seen your picture, and I don't know anything about you! His last question "Have you read my profile ... All of it?" made me curious. He must have a clue in there because his profile was quite scant of info.
So this morning, while thinking of how to handle the sitch, I looked at his profile and googled his latest reads. My friends, the man is looking for a Dominant.
Next!
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
A More Better Profile
A quick question: Doesn't a 49-year-old male who is searching for women aged 18-65 sound really suspicious? At the very least, he's throwing it all against the wall to see what will stick.
I'm working on getting some cuter pictures on my profile. And by "cuter" I mean "sexier." Nothing overt, mind you. I think my attractiveness comes from the way I carry myself, etc, not from an abundance of cleavage. I wouldn't want to have a crazy-hot, staged shot on my profile and then not live up to it in person, you know? But I do realize that I have to be clickable. Must hunt through my summer-wear and see what can be done ...
Mostly, this Match thing reminds me of college, where the guys just weren't asking the ladies out much--and the ones that were, were fatally flawed in some way or other. (see the 49yo dude at top)
Monday, October 19, 2009
Match: Day One
So the profile is up and limping along with one picture--and not the picture I hired a photog to take. No, for some reason, though I have received emails from Match telling me the professional shots are approved, they have yet to appear on the site. Well, as luck has it, my eyes had Serious Bags the day of the photo shoot, so maybe it's all well and good that those pictures haven't appeared.
An observation: online dating makes you picky. As I was peering at profiles this evening I came across this good looking guy and in one of his pictures, what do I see but a pair of pleated shorts! It's so hard to envision that a man in pleated shorts (something a middle-aged man might wear to the pier with loafers and a sweater tossed around his shoulders just so) could be The One.
And yet I imagine (because I do have a good imagination) that my next guy will have some abominable habits. Maybe he even has a pair of pleated pants! And, when you think about it, does something this trivial (but unsavory) really mean that much when you love that person? No. The One That Got Away had a hairy back, for Pete's sake and I adored him still.
Ah, but this is a far leap, from Match to love, and I think this is where online dating fails: it's too easy to click the back button on the browser when you come upon an egregious misspelling or some other tiny thing. The guy with a kid at home you ignore online tonight might be the guy you're ogling in the grocery store tomorrow. In real life, we don't hand potential dates our lives on spreadsheets--yet that's essentially what online dating is.
Well, I emailed a guy ... I don't get this winking business, do you? It's like, if you're interested, shoot me a couple of lines. Is it so difficult? Anyway, I emailed a guy who had an interesting profile. No, not even the fact that he has children living at home with him deterred me. I've decided to be really selective about things I wasn't so selective about before. I'm looking for a guy with above-average intelligence who expresses himself well--who isn't out of a recent divorce. The kid thing? That's a complicating factor, but I'm headed towards my mid-thirties. A girl has got to be realistic.
Oh, and the guy? He wrote back already. It's the small successes that keep me motivated.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Brief Crush
Work has me snowed under, so I have hardly given matters of the heart a thought.
For a period of 24 hours, I had a crush on a local guy--one who is married and therefore unattainable. If you're horrified by my crush on a married man, know that these sorts of crushes happen all the time to many people who would never, ever dream of acting on such a crush. (Heck, I have a hard enough time acting on crushes involving available men!) Anyway, the crush blossomed and fizzled, lovely while it existed. I can't quite do the Unattainable Crush like I could in grade school.
I drove by Bill's house (he lives on a main road) and noticed a car in his driveway. I suspect he had an overnight guest, which is all fine and dandy, since I don't love him and threw him back into the ocean to seek out a better partner. But I can't help but feel a little "Oh, shoot ..." about it. Or I felt that way for about two hours.
Today I wondered why I went out with Bill at all--why I couldn't have just said, "No, my heart is broken and I can't be in a relationship right now." Oh well. It's done, and I tried to love him for 9 months.
I'm off to meet a friend for a glass of wine. It's gorgeous here in the Napa Valley--leaves on the trees and vineyards are beginning to turn and the air is boozy with harvest smells. This is a great place.
(Oh interesting. Bill just texted me, hoping I was still in his neighborhood. Well, well ...)
For a period of 24 hours, I had a crush on a local guy--one who is married and therefore unattainable. If you're horrified by my crush on a married man, know that these sorts of crushes happen all the time to many people who would never, ever dream of acting on such a crush. (Heck, I have a hard enough time acting on crushes involving available men!) Anyway, the crush blossomed and fizzled, lovely while it existed. I can't quite do the Unattainable Crush like I could in grade school.
I drove by Bill's house (he lives on a main road) and noticed a car in his driveway. I suspect he had an overnight guest, which is all fine and dandy, since I don't love him and threw him back into the ocean to seek out a better partner. But I can't help but feel a little "Oh, shoot ..." about it. Or I felt that way for about two hours.
Today I wondered why I went out with Bill at all--why I couldn't have just said, "No, my heart is broken and I can't be in a relationship right now." Oh well. It's done, and I tried to love him for 9 months.
I'm off to meet a friend for a glass of wine. It's gorgeous here in the Napa Valley--leaves on the trees and vineyards are beginning to turn and the air is boozy with harvest smells. This is a great place.
(Oh interesting. Bill just texted me, hoping I was still in his neighborhood. Well, well ...)
Monday, October 12, 2009
The Profile
A storm is rushing towards the West Coast and here in the Napa Valley people are scrambling to get their grapes in--or hoping to ride out the storm.
Me, I am enjoying this blustery turn to the weather, though wishing I'd managed to clear the gutters.
I spoke with Evan Marc Katz Friday. Interesting guy. As in online dating, the image you have in your head never quite gels with your mental image. (Evan is a lot more energetic than I had envisioned.) Interesting conversation, though. I wanted to go through with it; I wanted to sign up for one of his profile/coaching packages. But in the end, the phone consultation hours just don't work for me--and the price was steeper than I had anticipated. (Well worth it, I'm sure, but food on the table and a roof over the head are also valuable. And so a girl makes her choices.)
On Sunday I went on a photo shoot jaunt with a woman I've worked with for other projects. I can't wait to see the results--she's really good at capturing a person as she is. Now if I just didn't have these bags under my eyes ...
So, yes, things are progressing as far as The Profile is concerned. Work is hectic at the moment, though, so that may put a chink in the momentum.
Scary stuff, going back online. Here's hoping I meet someone in "real life" who can rescue me from that particular horror ...
Me, I am enjoying this blustery turn to the weather, though wishing I'd managed to clear the gutters.
I spoke with Evan Marc Katz Friday. Interesting guy. As in online dating, the image you have in your head never quite gels with your mental image. (Evan is a lot more energetic than I had envisioned.) Interesting conversation, though. I wanted to go through with it; I wanted to sign up for one of his profile/coaching packages. But in the end, the phone consultation hours just don't work for me--and the price was steeper than I had anticipated. (Well worth it, I'm sure, but food on the table and a roof over the head are also valuable. And so a girl makes her choices.)
On Sunday I went on a photo shoot jaunt with a woman I've worked with for other projects. I can't wait to see the results--she's really good at capturing a person as she is. Now if I just didn't have these bags under my eyes ...
So, yes, things are progressing as far as The Profile is concerned. Work is hectic at the moment, though, so that may put a chink in the momentum.
Scary stuff, going back online. Here's hoping I meet someone in "real life" who can rescue me from that particular horror ...
Thursday, October 8, 2009
E is Also for Epiphany
I read back over my last post and found the tone rather ... terse and angsty. Since I am not a terse or angsty person in general, I chalk it up to a stressful time at work. The entry was truth, of course, but I'd like to think a gentler, more gracious version of that post would better reflect me.
Whatever. You're not here to judge. (And if you are, have at it. ;))
Anyway, I've been patting myself on the back these last few months for making women friends right and left. This is where the epiphany comes in: making friends is just like dating. (Minus the sex.) I know--revolutionary!
Once upon most of my life, I made friends with those who I knew were good as gold, in it for the long haul. Seriously. I didn't do "acquaintanceships." I didn't know how to do them! And then suddenly, a few months ago, I broke up with my boyfriend and began making casual friends. I don't know what changed, but it's great!
We call each other when we want to, make plans when we want to, and if one or the other of us falls off the radar, no harm done. I like it, and I wish I had managed this before.
My hope is, of course, that I will be able to carry this devil-may-care attitude into dating: enjoy the men I like and not worry about long-term results. It's a good way to get to know someone, you know? One of my current friends, for example, drove me a little nuts at first--but now, I've been able to put her quirks into context and I find that I really enjoy her genuine-ness and creativity. Who cares if she can be a little intense? (And another friend's darker side has started to emerge, and I am not so sure that our friendship will go the distance.)
So this is my plan: get to know lots of men and enjoy myself before narrowing in on one. This is an investment of time--and money. Because remember, I live in a small, beautiful corner of the globe and cannot meet these interesting, wonderful men on my own.
Which is why (and this is The Big Reveal) I am heading back to Match.com. And I am going all in, too. I've lined up a photographer (she takes great, natural portraits) and I have an appointment with Evan Marc Katz tomorrow so he can help me polish my profile. (Not embellish, but help me focus on the attributes and interests that truly reflect me. My old profile is one big snoozer--thank goodness it hasn't been up in years!) I figure that if I am going to do this thing yet again, I have to put my best foot forward.
As I was telling someone the other day, my youth is one of my more salable points. I'll always be intelligent, funny, kind, yadda ya, but I'll be 33 for just a few more months. From what I hear (over and over again) it only gets harder the older you get. So.
Here goes.
Whatever. You're not here to judge. (And if you are, have at it. ;))
Anyway, I've been patting myself on the back these last few months for making women friends right and left. This is where the epiphany comes in: making friends is just like dating. (Minus the sex.) I know--revolutionary!
Once upon most of my life, I made friends with those who I knew were good as gold, in it for the long haul. Seriously. I didn't do "acquaintanceships." I didn't know how to do them! And then suddenly, a few months ago, I broke up with my boyfriend and began making casual friends. I don't know what changed, but it's great!
We call each other when we want to, make plans when we want to, and if one or the other of us falls off the radar, no harm done. I like it, and I wish I had managed this before.
My hope is, of course, that I will be able to carry this devil-may-care attitude into dating: enjoy the men I like and not worry about long-term results. It's a good way to get to know someone, you know? One of my current friends, for example, drove me a little nuts at first--but now, I've been able to put her quirks into context and I find that I really enjoy her genuine-ness and creativity. Who cares if she can be a little intense? (And another friend's darker side has started to emerge, and I am not so sure that our friendship will go the distance.)
So this is my plan: get to know lots of men and enjoy myself before narrowing in on one. This is an investment of time--and money. Because remember, I live in a small, beautiful corner of the globe and cannot meet these interesting, wonderful men on my own.
Which is why (and this is The Big Reveal) I am heading back to Match.com. And I am going all in, too. I've lined up a photographer (she takes great, natural portraits) and I have an appointment with Evan Marc Katz tomorrow so he can help me polish my profile. (Not embellish, but help me focus on the attributes and interests that truly reflect me. My old profile is one big snoozer--thank goodness it hasn't been up in years!) I figure that if I am going to do this thing yet again, I have to put my best foot forward.
As I was telling someone the other day, my youth is one of my more salable points. I'll always be intelligent, funny, kind, yadda ya, but I'll be 33 for just a few more months. From what I hear (over and over again) it only gets harder the older you get. So.
Here goes.
Monday, October 5, 2009
E is for Effort
This afternoon at a business lunch my boss, a motherly sort, asked me whether I had any romantic prospects. "No," I said, quite emphatically. "Not even someone who interests you from afar?" She asked. "Not even," I said.
So there you have it, the fascinating, whirlwind life of a single girl in the Napa Valley. Oh and Ryan? He didn't show at the wine release party. I hadn't heard a peep from him since our last phone call, so I wasn't surprised. And now that I think about it, I really didn't care that he didn't bother to show (or call)--must have something to do with, I don't know, not being interested. Mostly I'm amazed. I don't think Ryan is being intentionally rude; I just think this is further sign of him not having his shit together.
And that, my friends, is one quality I can't live without--I don't care how tall, short, bald, handsome, charming you are. If you're over 33, you've got to make an effort with yourself, your life, other people. I'm not looking for perfection here, I'm just looking for effort. It's that simple.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Crash & Burn
I have not felt so awkward since high school--I swear!
Tonight at a major event (anything that draws 3000+ people in the Napa Valley is a major event) I screwed up the courage to talk to a guy. I'd seen him before--met him, even, under strange circumstances. Well, I walked up to him and said hi and didn't he know so and so? And then I referenced the strange circumstance, which he didn't remember, and the awkwardness only increased from there.
We were both clearly nervous, and either he thought I was cute, too, and was thrown for one gigantic loop, or he just has a hard time shooting the breeze with girls who find him attractive. I even asked him about one of the wines he was pouring, figuring that would put him at ease, and instead of extrapolating, as he easily could have done, he said, "Oh, that's a cab." Really?
I finally just walked away, basically. I probably said it was nice to meet him or something, I don't know.
Wow. I was equally the dork in this situation, but ... jeez. I'd forgotten it could be so bad! Chances are, he probably feels like an idiot.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Are Matchmakers Combustible?
Sometimes I do the craziest things.
I am an altruist--that's the only way I can explain my behavior the other night. (Although "stupid" does a pretty good job, too.)
Remember how I said this valley is so very small? When I became super good friends with Olivia a couple of months ago I learned that she had dated Robert, a guy I had had a very casual relationship with a few years back. (Too casual for my tastes, and that's how I learned--the hard way--that I'm not cut out for the whole modern FWB/FB whatsit.) Anyway, Olivia and Robert got together a month or two after I stopped taking Robert's phone calls; they lasted a year.
(This is all tangential information.)
Anyway, Sunday night Olivia called and said she needed a date to a party Saturday. We wracked our brains because Robert would be there with his new, petite girlfriend and while it really didn't matter Olivia didn't want to make an appearance sans man. Hey, I get it. She had two options: she'd just gone on a date with Guy #1, who she thinks is nice enough ("nice"--such a sexless word!) but there's no spark, and Guy #2, who is more blue collar than she would like but who is lots of fun. (The blue collar thing is only an issue because Robert looks like he was peeled off the glossy cover of a GQ magazine. Though, to our amusement, he's gained weight. Petty, yes, but he yoinked both Olivia and me around a bit.) I suggested Guy #2 was the way to go at this late date but said I would think about other possibilities.
Monday night, after dinner at one of Napa Valley's fabulous restaurants, I (all cheery and elevated on the meal and wine) called Olivia and said, "I know this might seem weird, but ... what about Bill?"
What about Bill, indeed. We'd all hung out the week before, actually, so I thought he would be the casual, handsome date she needed. Olivia, I suspect, had been hoping I would suggest him (did I mention he is handsome?). She said she'd think about it and let me know what she decided.
See, my thoughts were: This is a small valley, Olivia and Bill have both been through divorces, their personalities complement one another ... Not a bad angle, really, but I slept badly all night. I imagined that they would drink too much at the party (very likely) and that she would have to end up spending the night. Et cetera would inevitably ensue. Unfairly, I wouldn't mind seeing them in a relationship but I don't want to see them in a Thing. I guess I realized that Bill might date her to spite me. And that would hurt, even if I understood it.
In the morning, Olivia texted me to let me know that she had emailed Bill. I tried to rise above the creeping bad mood this put me in.
That afternoon she texted to let me know that he was away until next week. And I was so relieved. Later, she showed me their email exchange, and I couldn't help but analyze Bill's response. It was very carefully worded--friendly but not flirty. He is flattered, I'm sure, but I don't think he's attracted. (Yet.)
And why should I care?
Anyway, my lesson is learned: I won't try to play matchmaker for the ex. Not yet, anyway.
I am an altruist--that's the only way I can explain my behavior the other night. (Although "stupid" does a pretty good job, too.)
Remember how I said this valley is so very small? When I became super good friends with Olivia a couple of months ago I learned that she had dated Robert, a guy I had had a very casual relationship with a few years back. (Too casual for my tastes, and that's how I learned--the hard way--that I'm not cut out for the whole modern FWB/FB whatsit.) Anyway, Olivia and Robert got together a month or two after I stopped taking Robert's phone calls; they lasted a year.
(This is all tangential information.)
Anyway, Sunday night Olivia called and said she needed a date to a party Saturday. We wracked our brains because Robert would be there with his new, petite girlfriend and while it really didn't matter Olivia didn't want to make an appearance sans man. Hey, I get it. She had two options: she'd just gone on a date with Guy #1, who she thinks is nice enough ("nice"--such a sexless word!) but there's no spark, and Guy #2, who is more blue collar than she would like but who is lots of fun. (The blue collar thing is only an issue because Robert looks like he was peeled off the glossy cover of a GQ magazine. Though, to our amusement, he's gained weight. Petty, yes, but he yoinked both Olivia and me around a bit.) I suggested Guy #2 was the way to go at this late date but said I would think about other possibilities.
Monday night, after dinner at one of Napa Valley's fabulous restaurants, I (all cheery and elevated on the meal and wine) called Olivia and said, "I know this might seem weird, but ... what about Bill?"
What about Bill, indeed. We'd all hung out the week before, actually, so I thought he would be the casual, handsome date she needed. Olivia, I suspect, had been hoping I would suggest him (did I mention he is handsome?). She said she'd think about it and let me know what she decided.
See, my thoughts were: This is a small valley, Olivia and Bill have both been through divorces, their personalities complement one another ... Not a bad angle, really, but I slept badly all night. I imagined that they would drink too much at the party (very likely) and that she would have to end up spending the night. Et cetera would inevitably ensue. Unfairly, I wouldn't mind seeing them in a relationship but I don't want to see them in a Thing. I guess I realized that Bill might date her to spite me. And that would hurt, even if I understood it.
In the morning, Olivia texted me to let me know that she had emailed Bill. I tried to rise above the creeping bad mood this put me in.
That afternoon she texted to let me know that he was away until next week. And I was so relieved. Later, she showed me their email exchange, and I couldn't help but analyze Bill's response. It was very carefully worded--friendly but not flirty. He is flattered, I'm sure, but I don't think he's attracted. (Yet.)
And why should I care?
Anyway, my lesson is learned: I won't try to play matchmaker for the ex. Not yet, anyway.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Love and Destiny
I was thinking this weekend how my view of love has changed dramatically (and likely for the better) in these last few years.
I clearly recall believing that Love kept close company with Destiny. This was when I believed that things happened for a Reason (large or small). When I was young--a teenager--I knew that Love would find me when I was ready for it. This knowledge had a mystical quality to it, and I in my tortured, poetic coming-of-age stage felt I was a martyr to this Greater Truth. Love would find me.
If I had known at 16 that I would be single at 33, would I have had the wisdom to be proud of myself?
Because, my dears, Love has not found me. My heart has been taken for a couple of spins, and I have heard declarations of love and even had an offer of marriage (and one or two "test proposals"), but no ... No Love here. And I am so glad I didn't accept that proposal or tease along the test proposals. It's gotta be right or it's not gonna be. (And by "right" I don't mean "perfect.")
The tough truth of it is that not all of us are going to find it. And it's not for lack of our own personal coolness or attractiveness or intelligence. I, without an ounce of bitterness, view Love more as a lottery than destiny these days. I aim to connect with people--or I'm learning to. If I meet him, I meet him. And if not, I am going to have a damned amazing life anyway.
I clearly recall believing that Love kept close company with Destiny. This was when I believed that things happened for a Reason (large or small). When I was young--a teenager--I knew that Love would find me when I was ready for it. This knowledge had a mystical quality to it, and I in my tortured, poetic coming-of-age stage felt I was a martyr to this Greater Truth. Love would find me.
If I had known at 16 that I would be single at 33, would I have had the wisdom to be proud of myself?
Because, my dears, Love has not found me. My heart has been taken for a couple of spins, and I have heard declarations of love and even had an offer of marriage (and one or two "test proposals"), but no ... No Love here. And I am so glad I didn't accept that proposal or tease along the test proposals. It's gotta be right or it's not gonna be. (And by "right" I don't mean "perfect.")
The tough truth of it is that not all of us are going to find it. And it's not for lack of our own personal coolness or attractiveness or intelligence. I, without an ounce of bitterness, view Love more as a lottery than destiny these days. I aim to connect with people--or I'm learning to. If I meet him, I meet him. And if not, I am going to have a damned amazing life anyway.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Ryan Resurfaces!
I forgot to mention that Ryan called on Wednesday. Yes, Ryan, whom I hadn't heard from in weeks! (Not that I was shaken up about it.) I was really surprised when I saw the call coming through and sent it to voicemail.
I didn't get around to returning his call until Thursday. Why return it, you ask? I have a future job opportunity with a relative of his and I think it's in my best interest if I stay friendly--and that's really where I want to move this: to friend territory. We may already be there, but Ryan's message made it clear that he wanted to go out on a second date.
If I were interested in him, I would be so irritated! But I'm not, so it doesn't matter. We're planning on going to a wine release party next weekend. It'll be fun--something to blog about. Maybe I'll wear heels .... ;)
I didn't get around to returning his call until Thursday. Why return it, you ask? I have a future job opportunity with a relative of his and I think it's in my best interest if I stay friendly--and that's really where I want to move this: to friend territory. We may already be there, but Ryan's message made it clear that he wanted to go out on a second date.
If I were interested in him, I would be so irritated! But I'm not, so it doesn't matter. We're planning on going to a wine release party next weekend. It'll be fun--something to blog about. Maybe I'll wear heels .... ;)
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Can the Ex Be a Friend?
So Bill (the ex) and I have been hanging out.
I know, the situation is fraught with danger. Not because I harbor any interest or attraction (though he is interesting and attractive) but because I run the risk of grinding my heel into his heart all that much more. But I'd like to think that we're past that. Who knows?
The other night I stopped by his place to pick up something he had for me, and we ended up talking over a couple of drinks. And he made dinner, and who am I to turn down dinner? Conversation was great--we really do have so much in common. But afterward I tried to pinpoint what it was, exactly, that repels my heart. There's something I don't like. I suspect it is something in his character, but maybe it's just a mannerism. I don't know.
Last night he hung out with me and a couple of friends. It was all easy, breezy--though I am still offended that he has decided that I made the wrong choice in the place I bought last spring. Grrr. Perhaps this is evidence of the hurt he still may feel.
I'm not sure we can be friends, though it is nice to try--and to feel fondly for one another. I guess that's what I feel: fondness. And there's a word that completely lacks passion!
I know, the situation is fraught with danger. Not because I harbor any interest or attraction (though he is interesting and attractive) but because I run the risk of grinding my heel into his heart all that much more. But I'd like to think that we're past that. Who knows?
The other night I stopped by his place to pick up something he had for me, and we ended up talking over a couple of drinks. And he made dinner, and who am I to turn down dinner? Conversation was great--we really do have so much in common. But afterward I tried to pinpoint what it was, exactly, that repels my heart. There's something I don't like. I suspect it is something in his character, but maybe it's just a mannerism. I don't know.
Last night he hung out with me and a couple of friends. It was all easy, breezy--though I am still offended that he has decided that I made the wrong choice in the place I bought last spring. Grrr. Perhaps this is evidence of the hurt he still may feel.
I'm not sure we can be friends, though it is nice to try--and to feel fondly for one another. I guess that's what I feel: fondness. And there's a word that completely lacks passion!
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Tall Guy
A friend of mine mentioned a few days ago that she wanted me to meet her coworker. "Why," I asked. "Because he's tall," she beamed. Well, I guess I've been set up for worse reasons, such as merely being unattached. (Somehow starry-eyed matchmakers find the coincidence of singlehood so startling that they forget to take other factors into consideration. Factors such as shared interests and complimentary personalities and etc.)
Well, last night I met this friend and Tall Guy for drinks. I didn't appreciate exactly how tall he is until he stood up at the end of the night. I was in 4-inch heels and he still towered over me. I am duly impressed.
But as for other crucial criteria, I don't know. He seems like the sort of guy you'd want to hang out with. It isn't that he's unattractive (he is attractive), it's more that I suspect that he's in his late 20s. Guys that age (and on into their early 30s) don't seem to be interested in relationships. And if they are interested in relationships, most often they've already managed to be in one. You know?
Anyway, I'd go out with him and suss the situation. He does drive a nice, grownup car, after all. (If he'd left in a sports car I would be more wary.) This is supposing, of course, that he found me interesting. Who knows?
Well, last night I met this friend and Tall Guy for drinks. I didn't appreciate exactly how tall he is until he stood up at the end of the night. I was in 4-inch heels and he still towered over me. I am duly impressed.
But as for other crucial criteria, I don't know. He seems like the sort of guy you'd want to hang out with. It isn't that he's unattractive (he is attractive), it's more that I suspect that he's in his late 20s. Guys that age (and on into their early 30s) don't seem to be interested in relationships. And if they are interested in relationships, most often they've already managed to be in one. You know?
Anyway, I'd go out with him and suss the situation. He does drive a nice, grownup car, after all. (If he'd left in a sports car I would be more wary.) This is supposing, of course, that he found me interesting. Who knows?
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
A Swift Kick in the Pants
I don't know if you read Evan Marc Katz's latest post, but if you haven't, do and then trot back over here. I'll wait.
...
This is exactly the reality check I've needed regarding TOTGA. And it's not that I didn't know these things, it's just that it's so easy to forget them. It helps to have someone grab you by the ears and say, "Listen, Ruby. It wasn't real. It didn't last. And you ended it."
Yes, that's right. I sat TOTGA down and gently said that at five months, the once-a-week phone calls and rare emails just weren't working for me. I said that I cared about him and wished this weren't so, but that I was not going to be the girl waiting by the phone. (Unfortunately I didn't say all of these brave things dry-eyed. I still wish wholeheartedly that I had held it together a little better. Ah well, at least my message was strong, even if the delivery was weak.)
Why, then, have I been pining over this joker? I don't know, but I have decided that the buck stops here. Finally. Evan's post helps a lot--and so does my discovery that TOTGA is apparently still with a woman who (IMHO) is a little whack. Some men are drawn to The Crazy, and while I have charming, semi-obsessive tendencies (hello hangup on TOTGA), I am not crazy. I don't have time for men who have to generate excitement in their lives by latching on to unstable women--I don't care how tall, dark and handsome they are. (How smart, how calm, cool and collected; how much of their shit they have together ...)
Of course, there is a part of me that hopes (so devilishly) that his situation will implode soon. But a bigger, better part of me hopes he's happy--even with The Crazy.
...
This is exactly the reality check I've needed regarding TOTGA. And it's not that I didn't know these things, it's just that it's so easy to forget them. It helps to have someone grab you by the ears and say, "Listen, Ruby. It wasn't real. It didn't last. And you ended it."
Yes, that's right. I sat TOTGA down and gently said that at five months, the once-a-week phone calls and rare emails just weren't working for me. I said that I cared about him and wished this weren't so, but that I was not going to be the girl waiting by the phone. (Unfortunately I didn't say all of these brave things dry-eyed. I still wish wholeheartedly that I had held it together a little better. Ah well, at least my message was strong, even if the delivery was weak.)
Why, then, have I been pining over this joker? I don't know, but I have decided that the buck stops here. Finally. Evan's post helps a lot--and so does my discovery that TOTGA is apparently still with a woman who (IMHO) is a little whack. Some men are drawn to The Crazy, and while I have charming, semi-obsessive tendencies (hello hangup on TOTGA), I am not crazy. I don't have time for men who have to generate excitement in their lives by latching on to unstable women--I don't care how tall, dark and handsome they are. (How smart, how calm, cool and collected; how much of their shit they have together ...)
Of course, there is a part of me that hopes (so devilishly) that his situation will implode soon. But a bigger, better part of me hopes he's happy--even with The Crazy.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Someone Interesting
Wouldn't you know it, I did meet someone interesting yesterday. Of course, meeting someone interesting and having it stick are two very different things.
This Someone Interesting (SI) was one of several guys who were in genuine lederhosen. I can see you're surprised by that. You wouldn't think I would be attracted to a guy in lederhosen, would you. Well, SI also had a sparkling sense of humor and took an obvious shine to me. He had me laughing so hard I couldn't speak.
He wandered away (I think a bratwurst on the grill was calling his name) and I really didn't think anything more of him until one of his friends said, "SI is sure going to be bummed when you leave."
"Really? It looks like he's having a good time." I gestured to SI, who was chatting with a toothy brunette. His friend didn't have much of a response and said only, "I don't know who that is."
Well, awhile later I was ready to head out. I bid my adieus here and there and passed SI on my way out. He was indeed disappointed to see me leaving (never mind that the brunette was beaming there at his elbow) and when he hugged me he said, "Ruby, Ruby" and then laughed nervously and said he was stuttering. (Oh, those many steins of good German beer!)
Later my friend asked me if he'd gotten my number. I was surprised at this and said, "Uh, no ...?" (I suspect that SI must've said something about me when I wasn't around. Everyone seemed so confident in his interest!) I told her that I really didn't think he was all that interested. After all, he'd been talking to that toothy brunette for hours! She shrugged, "That's just where he ended up."
Isn't it funny how that is? Well, I'm here to say (to both men and women) that if someone really sparks your interest, be sure you don't end up with someone else. For all I know, SI may have been most interested in the brunette, but my feminine instinct tells me that she'd just made herself convenient and he'd hoped to circle back. Little did he know how soon the time would run out.
Anyway, it doesn't matter. SI lives in Southern California.
But as my friend and I were driving back to the Napa Valley I mused that I'd really like to live in San Francisco one day. And, in the meantime, perhaps dive into the social scene. The city is an hour away from where I live, so it isn't terribly close (or terribly far). Who knows?
This Someone Interesting (SI) was one of several guys who were in genuine lederhosen. I can see you're surprised by that. You wouldn't think I would be attracted to a guy in lederhosen, would you. Well, SI also had a sparkling sense of humor and took an obvious shine to me. He had me laughing so hard I couldn't speak.
He wandered away (I think a bratwurst on the grill was calling his name) and I really didn't think anything more of him until one of his friends said, "SI is sure going to be bummed when you leave."
"Really? It looks like he's having a good time." I gestured to SI, who was chatting with a toothy brunette. His friend didn't have much of a response and said only, "I don't know who that is."
Well, awhile later I was ready to head out. I bid my adieus here and there and passed SI on my way out. He was indeed disappointed to see me leaving (never mind that the brunette was beaming there at his elbow) and when he hugged me he said, "Ruby, Ruby" and then laughed nervously and said he was stuttering. (Oh, those many steins of good German beer!)
Later my friend asked me if he'd gotten my number. I was surprised at this and said, "Uh, no ...?" (I suspect that SI must've said something about me when I wasn't around. Everyone seemed so confident in his interest!) I told her that I really didn't think he was all that interested. After all, he'd been talking to that toothy brunette for hours! She shrugged, "That's just where he ended up."
Isn't it funny how that is? Well, I'm here to say (to both men and women) that if someone really sparks your interest, be sure you don't end up with someone else. For all I know, SI may have been most interested in the brunette, but my feminine instinct tells me that she'd just made herself convenient and he'd hoped to circle back. Little did he know how soon the time would run out.
Anyway, it doesn't matter. SI lives in Southern California.
But as my friend and I were driving back to the Napa Valley I mused that I'd really like to live in San Francisco one day. And, in the meantime, perhaps dive into the social scene. The city is an hour away from where I live, so it isn't terribly close (or terribly far). Who knows?
Friday, September 11, 2009
More Bill
The Napa Valley shrinks smaller and smaller.
Friends invited me to a soiree along the Napa River last night. I was running late and on my way I got a text from Bill: "Hey, I'm at this party on the Napa River. Thought we could hang out." Even though the Valley is small, it did seem a little wild that Bill would be at this party, since his town is a whole 30 minutes away--in good traffic.
I was happy to see him, though. I've missed him--as I've said--and I realize this is entirely unfair. I think it must be day-to-day stress that has me reminiscing about all of the good times.
Anyway, Bill didn't realize I had friends at this party, and I think he might have been surprised at that. (He had to be startled when Very Taken Joe--tall and quite handsome--greeted me with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.) We talked a little, and then he drifted off--rather purposefully, I think--and so did I.
Tomorrow I'm headed into SF for a pre-Oktoberfest party. I had to rustle up a stein for the occasion. I found a cheap one, which I just know is going to stand out like a sore thumb. Where does one find a good stein outside of Germany? Aside from container issues, I have high hopes of meeting someone interesting ...
Friends invited me to a soiree along the Napa River last night. I was running late and on my way I got a text from Bill: "Hey, I'm at this party on the Napa River. Thought we could hang out." Even though the Valley is small, it did seem a little wild that Bill would be at this party, since his town is a whole 30 minutes away--in good traffic.
I was happy to see him, though. I've missed him--as I've said--and I realize this is entirely unfair. I think it must be day-to-day stress that has me reminiscing about all of the good times.
Anyway, Bill didn't realize I had friends at this party, and I think he might have been surprised at that. (He had to be startled when Very Taken Joe--tall and quite handsome--greeted me with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.) We talked a little, and then he drifted off--rather purposefully, I think--and so did I.
Tomorrow I'm headed into SF for a pre-Oktoberfest party. I had to rustle up a stein for the occasion. I found a cheap one, which I just know is going to stand out like a sore thumb. Where does one find a good stein outside of Germany? Aside from container issues, I have high hopes of meeting someone interesting ...
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
"Ironic. Frickin' ironic!"
This is what I whispered to myself midday as I walked back to my car after bumping into Bill. I'd been in St. Helena for work-related reasons, visiting a few merchants in town. I had this wild hope of running into TOTGA--who I never run into and who I, of course, did not run into today. You really would think, wouldn't you, that in this itty-bitty town of 5,500 some-odd souls, I'd bump into the guy. But, no, the fates are not so kind.
Instead, as I was walking up the sidewalk who do I spy coming down the sidewalk but Bill? I pretended not to see him and looked at a paper in my hand--not obvious at all. And then, to my shock, I saw him enter the very shop I was planning on going into.
Crap. Of course I walked in and said hello and waved again when he very quickly left. So I wanted to see one guy but saw the other guy instead. This is the story of the last 12 months. The story of small-town life. (And it doesn't help that TOTGA hides under rocks--or in the arms of a crazy new girlfriend. Who knows?)
I haven't heard from Ryan, and that's all well and good. Tonight I had drinks with a friend who is launching herself into a City with the hopes of (in addition to having a new, fabulous life) shaking things up a bit man-wise. I have to say I'm envious. I already met one great guy in this town; can lightning strike twice? She, on the other hand, will have a huge population to sift through--which presents its own challenges but also a whole slew of opportunities.
Instead, as I was walking up the sidewalk who do I spy coming down the sidewalk but Bill? I pretended not to see him and looked at a paper in my hand--not obvious at all. And then, to my shock, I saw him enter the very shop I was planning on going into.
Crap. Of course I walked in and said hello and waved again when he very quickly left. So I wanted to see one guy but saw the other guy instead. This is the story of the last 12 months. The story of small-town life. (And it doesn't help that TOTGA hides under rocks--or in the arms of a crazy new girlfriend. Who knows?)
I haven't heard from Ryan, and that's all well and good. Tonight I had drinks with a friend who is launching herself into a City with the hopes of (in addition to having a new, fabulous life) shaking things up a bit man-wise. I have to say I'm envious. I already met one great guy in this town; can lightning strike twice? She, on the other hand, will have a huge population to sift through--which presents its own challenges but also a whole slew of opportunities.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Missing the Ex (for some odd reason)
Today I find I miss my ex. My most recent ex, that is, the one who I couldn't fall in love with, no matter how much I wanted to.
Which brings me to why I started up a dating blog again, after nearly 14 months of being un-single. The first five months were spent with a guy (The One That Got Away--TOTGA) I inconveniently fell in love with. I don't fall in love easily or often--I dare say he may well have been the first. And, alas, it was unrequited and the situation became increasingly painful. I let him go.
In swooped my now most recent ex (let's call him Bill). I let myself get swept up in his enthusiasm. After porridge too cold, porridge too hot was nice, even if I knew the danger. I shouldn't have dated him so soon after TOTGA, but you know how smudgy the heart and head is after a crushing disappointment. Bill loved me, faults and all. It's hard to throw that away, but nine months later, I had to.
He's been devastated--we've been broken up three months, and he's still having a hard time. The irony is, of course, that I felt for TOTGA what Bill feels for me. Where is the justice?
Bill and I have a ton in common--same interests, everything. Aside from my not loving him, though, I took issue with his lack of ambition. He is happy with the status quo; he doesn't take care of his health and drinks too much. I never harped at him about these things--aside from the not going to the doctor business--but all of this made me feel significantly unsafe. (O Cliche! I am a woman who desires security.)
I liked Bill, but there was too much pressure. If he could have reeled in the declarations of love (and etc.) I might have been able to stay on longer. Then again, at nine months if a girl knows this just won't pan out, it's better to move on.
Still, I miss him, and today is his birthday.
Which brings me to why I started up a dating blog again, after nearly 14 months of being un-single. The first five months were spent with a guy (The One That Got Away--TOTGA) I inconveniently fell in love with. I don't fall in love easily or often--I dare say he may well have been the first. And, alas, it was unrequited and the situation became increasingly painful. I let him go.
In swooped my now most recent ex (let's call him Bill). I let myself get swept up in his enthusiasm. After porridge too cold, porridge too hot was nice, even if I knew the danger. I shouldn't have dated him so soon after TOTGA, but you know how smudgy the heart and head is after a crushing disappointment. Bill loved me, faults and all. It's hard to throw that away, but nine months later, I had to.
He's been devastated--we've been broken up three months, and he's still having a hard time. The irony is, of course, that I felt for TOTGA what Bill feels for me. Where is the justice?
Bill and I have a ton in common--same interests, everything. Aside from my not loving him, though, I took issue with his lack of ambition. He is happy with the status quo; he doesn't take care of his health and drinks too much. I never harped at him about these things--aside from the not going to the doctor business--but all of this made me feel significantly unsafe. (O Cliche! I am a woman who desires security.)
I liked Bill, but there was too much pressure. If he could have reeled in the declarations of love (and etc.) I might have been able to stay on longer. Then again, at nine months if a girl knows this just won't pan out, it's better to move on.
Still, I miss him, and today is his birthday.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Post-date
Ryan called three days after the date, which is both conventional and a relief, since I am pretty sure that this won't go anywhere. Since then we've exchanged phone messages, and I saw him at the gym tonight.
So, you want to know, why the slim chance of a future?
I really need a man who is established in life--and by "established" I truly don't mean "rich." I mean: a man who has a career, even borderline workaholic tendencies, possibly (preferably) owns his own place. (Which, by the way, is why I took the leap and bought my own little spot.) Ryan is currently going back to school for his first degree--which is admirable, but ... uneven.
It feels unfair to say these things, but for too long I've gone out with men who were nice but not intellectually interesting or challenging to me. And once you've dated someone who totally fits the bill, it's hard to let yourself slide back to the nice guys.
Anyway, there was mention of going to lunch in yesterday's phone message, and while I'm sure that would be pleasant, I would like to steer our relationship into friend territory, if at all possible. And I do know this will be difficult, but since we see each other on a fairly regular basis, I feel it is necessary. So I haven't mentioned lunch--didn't mention it tonight when I saw him, just chatted about everything else.
Big weekend ahead and several opportunities to meet new people--and drink good wine, of course!
So, you want to know, why the slim chance of a future?
I really need a man who is established in life--and by "established" I truly don't mean "rich." I mean: a man who has a career, even borderline workaholic tendencies, possibly (preferably) owns his own place. (Which, by the way, is why I took the leap and bought my own little spot.) Ryan is currently going back to school for his first degree--which is admirable, but ... uneven.
It feels unfair to say these things, but for too long I've gone out with men who were nice but not intellectually interesting or challenging to me. And once you've dated someone who totally fits the bill, it's hard to let yourself slide back to the nice guys.
Anyway, there was mention of going to lunch in yesterday's phone message, and while I'm sure that would be pleasant, I would like to steer our relationship into friend territory, if at all possible. And I do know this will be difficult, but since we see each other on a fairly regular basis, I feel it is necessary. So I haven't mentioned lunch--didn't mention it tonight when I saw him, just chatted about everything else.
Big weekend ahead and several opportunities to meet new people--and drink good wine, of course!
Sunday, August 30, 2009
The Date
We had a fine date: popular restaurant packed with people (and a great live band), delicious food and wine. Ryan (not his true name) and I talked a lot and even danced a bit. I'd decided on flats after I didn't accept his offer to pick me up as a way to make it up to him. (I'm so used to being independent and self-sufficient I forget to allow men to do nice things for me, and so I need to practice, no matter how small the gesture.)
I also let him pay for me, which is always hard for me to do. I of course thanked him several times.
We leaned in close to talk, partially so we could make ourselves heard but also because it's nice to be close. I put my hand on his shoulder several times, and he pulled me in close, too. But, and you'll be shocked, we didn't kiss at the end of the date. It wasn't because I didn't find him attractive--I do. I'm just not ready to go darting down that road yet. Prude? Maybe. Even men I find terribly, heart-breakingly attractive I don't kiss right off the bat. Why? I don't know. It could be viewed as game-playing but for me it's simply a matter of Figuring Things Out.
I warm up slowly. It's one of my "special features." And it's true that some don't have the patience for it--I can't blame them. I just can't bring myself to kiss a guy when I'm not sure where I want things to go. (And, sometimes, even when I'm pretty sure where I want things to go.) Perhaps I need to seek therapy on this point--or perhaps I will just keep on keeping on. No great harm has come from this M.O. yet.
Anyway, I enjoyed Ryan and I would go out with him again. I think we're a little uneven in some areas (accomplishments, experiences, etc.), though, and those could be deal-breakers for me.
I also let him pay for me, which is always hard for me to do. I of course thanked him several times.
We leaned in close to talk, partially so we could make ourselves heard but also because it's nice to be close. I put my hand on his shoulder several times, and he pulled me in close, too. But, and you'll be shocked, we didn't kiss at the end of the date. It wasn't because I didn't find him attractive--I do. I'm just not ready to go darting down that road yet. Prude? Maybe. Even men I find terribly, heart-breakingly attractive I don't kiss right off the bat. Why? I don't know. It could be viewed as game-playing but for me it's simply a matter of Figuring Things Out.
I warm up slowly. It's one of my "special features." And it's true that some don't have the patience for it--I can't blame them. I just can't bring myself to kiss a guy when I'm not sure where I want things to go. (And, sometimes, even when I'm pretty sure where I want things to go.) Perhaps I need to seek therapy on this point--or perhaps I will just keep on keeping on. No great harm has come from this M.O. yet.
Anyway, I enjoyed Ryan and I would go out with him again. I think we're a little uneven in some areas (accomplishments, experiences, etc.), though, and those could be deal-breakers for me.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Cinderella's Slippers Have Heels
I found cute shoes, but they're heels, and even in bare feet I'm already taller than my date. I consulted a friend about this, and she assured me that as long as I am okay with it, no worries.
I am okay with it, of course. I'm taller than most people anyway. But is it rude to flaunt one's height on a first date? On the other hand, I know shorter men who love tall women--and love them more in heels. Maybe he's one of these. Maybe he'll be drawn to my confidence, or something.
Whatever, we'll be sitting down for most of the evening anyway.
By the way, it's brutally hot in the Napa Valley this afternoon. After a mild summer, this comes as somewhat of a shock.
I am okay with it, of course. I'm taller than most people anyway. But is it rude to flaunt one's height on a first date? On the other hand, I know shorter men who love tall women--and love them more in heels. Maybe he's one of these. Maybe he'll be drawn to my confidence, or something.
Whatever, we'll be sitting down for most of the evening anyway.
By the way, it's brutally hot in the Napa Valley this afternoon. After a mild summer, this comes as somewhat of a shock.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Slippers for Cinderella
I feel a little silly for having launched into a tirade about the lack of men in the Napa Valley when such a short time later, one of these supposedly rare men has asked me out on a date.
Yes, that's right, I do have a date. One where the guy actually called me up and asked me out--offered to pick me up, even!
Gentlemen, take note: small gestures are lovely. Traditional dating can set a girl's heart to fluttering.
It's true! And this is one of the reasons I've been dating men 10 years or so older than me: They know how to ask a woman out. It isn't this, "Hey, so, uh, wanna hang out some time?" business. So unattractive!
So I have a date, and I know what I'll wear--except for my shoes. My shoe collection (such as it is) needs revitalizing. Will I be able to find something by tomorrow evening? If you don't feel the suspense, I sure do!
Yes, that's right, I do have a date. One where the guy actually called me up and asked me out--offered to pick me up, even!
Gentlemen, take note: small gestures are lovely. Traditional dating can set a girl's heart to fluttering.
It's true! And this is one of the reasons I've been dating men 10 years or so older than me: They know how to ask a woman out. It isn't this, "Hey, so, uh, wanna hang out some time?" business. So unattractive!
So I have a date, and I know what I'll wear--except for my shoes. My shoe collection (such as it is) needs revitalizing. Will I be able to find something by tomorrow evening? If you don't feel the suspense, I sure do!
Thursday, August 27, 2009
What to my wondering eyes should appear ...
A man on the horizon!
I'm afraid I sound glib--or worse, desperate. I don't think I'm either, but you're free to make your own judgments.
I fell in love once, you know, here in this very small valley (wonder of wonders) and for one reason or a dozen, it just didn't stick. I see him from distances (such a small place this is) and each time the heart clinches. It would be so healthy to move on, which is why I am excited about this possible guy. He seems smart and interesting, plus he has the requisite twinkle in his eye ...
I'm afraid I sound glib--or worse, desperate. I don't think I'm either, but you're free to make your own judgments.
I fell in love once, you know, here in this very small valley (wonder of wonders) and for one reason or a dozen, it just didn't stick. I see him from distances (such a small place this is) and each time the heart clinches. It would be so healthy to move on, which is why I am excited about this possible guy. He seems smart and interesting, plus he has the requisite twinkle in his eye ...
Monday, August 24, 2009
Welcome to the Napa Valley Fishbowl
It's a terribly small place.
You don't realize this when you first arrive, all starry-eyed with the views of vineyard upon vineyard and promises of fabulous food and wine. But, yes, the Napa Valley isn't an ocean wherein to cast baited hooks for men--it's a fishbowl. And woe be unto she who commits the grave error of "catch and release" .... Which I have done. Several times. (Woe.)
The statistics are stacked against us, honey. The US Census says there's about 133,433 persons in Napa County. I don't know how many are single, but you'll agree: it seems that all but 3,000 are married (or in exclusive relationships, or are children or retired or skanky)--and at least 2,500 of those singles are attractive, charming women scampering after the same 500 or so attractive, charming men. (And frankly, it doesn't seem like there are 500 attractive men gallivanting about the valley, but I'm trying to be generous here.)
This is how the odds are stacked; this is what I'm up against.
(Well, there are other factors, too ...)
You don't realize this when you first arrive, all starry-eyed with the views of vineyard upon vineyard and promises of fabulous food and wine. But, yes, the Napa Valley isn't an ocean wherein to cast baited hooks for men--it's a fishbowl. And woe be unto she who commits the grave error of "catch and release" .... Which I have done. Several times. (Woe.)
The statistics are stacked against us, honey. The US Census says there's about 133,433 persons in Napa County. I don't know how many are single, but you'll agree: it seems that all but 3,000 are married (or in exclusive relationships, or are children or retired or skanky)--and at least 2,500 of those singles are attractive, charming women scampering after the same 500 or so attractive, charming men. (And frankly, it doesn't seem like there are 500 attractive men gallivanting about the valley, but I'm trying to be generous here.)
This is how the odds are stacked; this is what I'm up against.
(Well, there are other factors, too ...)
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