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.

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.

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 .... ;)

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!

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?

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.

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?

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 ...

"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.

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.

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!