New Job, New Dating Pool?

So sorry to vanish like that--I got wrapped up in the newness of the new job. (Yes, I am finally in the NV* industry! And though work is work, it's still awfully nice to drive up to a beautiful winery each morning.) So what happened with Crush? Before leaving my old job I asked around a bit and discovered that he probably has a live-in girlfriend. That took the wind out of my sails just a bit, because while having a girlfriend isn't the same as having a wife, I was not so taken with Crush that I felt compelled to swoop in and make some grand overture. But I did tell a coworker that if he ever mentioned interest in me to give him my phone number.

I'm the new kid on the block at the winery, which is just like being the new kid at school (remember?). Or maybe it's better because there aren't cliques to break into and bullying to watch out for--at least in the adult world these things are usually much more subtle than in elementary/high school. The single men are curious, but again, it's hard for me to tell which are single because of the absence of wedding rings. (That whole thing about not wanting to lose a finger--which is valid in this business.) I don't really want to date where I work, but the Valley is so small and the pickings are so slim ... I think I will have to rethink that rule.

I heard something funny last week--something I hadn't heard in my eight years of living here: "The Valley is BYOB. 'Bring Your Own Boyfriend.'" Oh cruel truth! (Although I have dated a lot here, I must say. Rather indiscriminately at first, but I was merely a late bloomer, trying to figure out what I wanted.)

So what I need to do is step it up, socially speaking. I need to get out more, smile more, show more interest and friendliness. I, being tall and a watchful sort, am not the most approachable chica on the block. I also need to step up the exercise program--ahem.

The things we do to not be solo for ever and ever.

*NV is shorthand for, you know, the name of this valley. I don't want to spell it out since I'll then pop up in Google Alerts and risk exposure. Scary stuff.

Cruel cupid!

Dear blogging world, dear confidants, dear lurkers (you, especially): What would you do?

Remember Crush, that brief flash of light in my dark, practical life? Well, I'd all but forgotten about him. In fact, yesterday I was considering writing a post about how I just can't do crushes like I could in my teen years. They just don't have staying power these days! And then today he stopped by my office. (dun dun DUN!)

Let me backtrack: though Crush and I have spoken on the phone and though we have seen each other in passing, we actually have never met face to face. Why? It seems like we're always conducting business with other people when we see each other. Plus, now that I think about it, we really haven't seen each other since we've been talking on the phone. (Sadly, these phone chats have been business related, though I have been very friendly on these calls.) Yesterday I called him and left a message letting him know I had one last issue to discuss with him--and I let him know that Friday is my last day at work. I thought it was unusual that he didn't return my call ...

And what happens but I return from a very late lunch and the executive assistant says, all wide-eyed and giggly when I walk in the door, "Crush was here!" It look me a full minute to realize she wasn't talking about last summer's intern.

Apparently the EA said, "Oooh! Crush!" when he introduced himself and he said, "You've heard my name?" And EA, a motherly sort, said she'd just heard me mention his name in reference to our projects. Nice. Real smooth.

Apparently Crush lingered, as if hoping I'd return. Apparently he was wearing a great cologne.

So I called him back straight away to discuss this project issue that needed discussing. But I didn't have my wits about me; didn't suggest we meet so I could show him what I meant. I talked too fast and didn't realize his monosyllabic responses were likely from nervousness until later.

Dammit.

How is it that someone in her 30s could be so clueless? I, of course, have to call him back tomorrow and think up some lame-ass excuse to do so. You would call him, wouldn't you? And maybe some of the ballsier among you would ask him out. I might do that, depending. (I have just had a beer, so feel courageous.)

I could be reading this all wrong. My coworkers don't think he's married, but peoplefinders.com has someone on his associated people list that is suspicious--either a sister or wife. I don't have the time to ask around about him, though. I have Thursday and Friday.

So given the confusion about him marital status, would you call him tomorrow with some flimsy question? Would you ask him out? (My married friends would, but they are safely married, living vicariously through my single foolishness.) Do you think I am reading too much into the sudden visit to the office, the lingering, the cologne?

Gah, you know? If only I had been at the office when he came by!

Calm Before the Storm?

I feel like I haven't been holding up my end of the blogging bargain because, my sweets, I have nothing going on romantically ... and I am fine with it. I have too much going on otherwise! Too much excitement over the new job, too many plans for an updated wardrobe, too many starry-eyed dreams for the future ...

But I have started doing something that I haven't done in ages: I've been noticing men. That is, I scope out rooms and I look around to see if I I, in turn, have been spotted. Vain? Yes. But it's also part of the whole dating ritual. Catch an eye and you never know ... Also, I am taking mental notes on what men I find attractive seem to be drawn to.

And just who do I find attractive? Dammit, the sensitive, artistic types. It's true. Most of my guys fall into this category. Guy (my last boyfriend) was more sensitive than most women I know--ugh! So now I want to swing the other way (though not completely). I still like that strong, silent type--but I'd like a little pinch of outgoingness, too.

Whatever. Show me a handsome man at the back of the room and I'll show you one very interested woman. (TOTGA had this quality in spades, and no matter how much I tell myself that he was a lurker, I know it isn't true. He was an observer, and I love that, damn him.)

I promise I'll scare up a good story soon, but for now it's a lot of quality time with the girlfriends--dining out at fabulous NV restaurants. It's a tough life, but I'm happy to live it.