First Rule: Get Out

I haven't created my man circle yet, which is probably why the man of my dreams hasn't walked into my life. Heh.

However, a guy did buy me a drink last week. He was short and quite a bit younger than me, but he was friendly and cute and I figured I'd practice flirting, which paid off since he slyly paid for my $14 glass of wine. (I'd put out my $20 and the bartender just made smaller change out of it for me, which I didn't realize until I got up to meet friends for dinner. Sneaky.)

As always, this holiday weekend caught me by surprise. I never seem to plan anything for Memorial Day weekend, and so, as in years past, I find myself fending for myself and catching excitement where I can. Yesterday turned out well, and it's still an early Sunday here on the West Coast--who knows?

My good friend Emily and I took a long walk along the N*** (again not spelling it out so avid, local googlers won't find me) River and then we lunched under an umbrella on a deck at our favorite eatery. Topics of conversation ranged all over the place but, of course, mostly had to do with men past, present and future. It's a fun topic to hash out, you know. (Yes, you do know.)

Emily is 41, once married and then engaged and all ready to walk the aisle (on Martha's Vineyard, no less) when two days before the wedding, her man called it off. Three years later, she's left her executive position, moved to N***, and is wondering what the heck to do with her life. She rents a small apartment on an amazing country estate. The owners are currently summering in France (ah, the life!), so we decided to take the conversation to the poolside lawn.

Just so you know, cheese, grapes, bread, strawberries and French rosé pair very nicely with conversation. We made plans for summer parties and just plain getting out. "Because we're not going to meet any men here," Emily said, gesturing towards the wooded hillsides. Yes, that's the thing: one may spend a wonderful afternoon sunning herself at a secluded, N*** location, but interesting men aren't going to emerge from the forest or vineyard.

A girl has to get out.

The Man Circle

I went out last night--a rare occurrence. Well, actually no--not rare. But in this case there was a whole, big group of us, men and women, and we were all celebrating someone's birthday and a friend of mine was driving me. And so I kicked up my heels more than usual.

We talked about men--three or four of us single girls and a married friend. The married friend asked if we'd created our "man circle," which she described as drawing a circle on a piece of paper and writing all the attributes and qualities you wanted in a man. One then affixes this paper to a prominent location, "like your refrigerator," she said, "although you can put it on the side so not just anyone will see it." She said she met her husband days after creating her man circle.

I can actually see the benefit of narrowing what you're looking for in a tangible way because then one isn't distracted by the cutie who doesn't have a job or who's hung up on his ex or whatever. I suppose I shall give it a go.

But I suspect my problem (at the moment) isn't identifying attributes and qualities but meeting men period. I need to work on that, first of all. Jeez. First and foremost: I need to stop wearing heels on social occasions. They put me in the stratosphere, and while that used to be a strategy to keep the boys at bay, I now see the value in approachability.

OKCupid is killing me. Still writing that one guy, but neither of us seem too hot to meet each other. I'm ready to take down the profile.

Mission: Opposite

Well, I did it: I did "The Opposite Thing." And it turned out well.

I emailed Bill and told him I missed him. Yes, pretty much just like that.

He wrote back, saying it was good to hear and so sweet. He was gutted. He wanted to hear more. He asked me how I was.

I hemmed and hawed and decided to keep things simple. So I said I really appreciated how we had so much in common. (Not very sexy, I know--but wait, this is a good thing!) Then I gave a quick, airy-fairy rundown on the latest. I asked him how he was.

(Now remember, we had exchanged several emails on Sunday before I even let "I miss you" out of the bag.)

He let me know how he was with work, hobbies and ... love life! Yes, he is dating someone he called "wonderful." And of course I felt a wee bit numb at his revelation--numb but not surprised. And I was glad (so glad) that I kept my Declaration of Missing simple. Because really, it is simple. I miss his friendship, at the very bottom of it. He wouldn't have wanted to hear that.

(And did I really want to try again with him? No. I know it now. I feel nostalgic, but it's nostalgia for the friendship, not the romance.)

Oh, and he said he would tell me about his someone wonderful over drinks.

Um, no. I'm not going there. With his rapid-fire responses to my emails and his not telling me about this for (I suspect) months, I don't exactly think he's ready for plain, ol' friendship. Plus, if I were her, I wouldn't want my guy hanging out with the woman who broke his heart. (Plus-plus, the NV is so, so small. And their town has a population of 5,000 or so. No way. Bad mojo for future men I may want to meet in said teeny town.)

So I just wrote back and said how great it all was and that Ms. Wonderful must truly be wonderful because he had good taste. I didn't even touch on the subject of drinks.

I'm glad I stepped out and did the Opposite because it gave me the reality check--and answers--I needed. I gotta keep rolling on this Opposite track!

News:

1. There's someone sexy at work--good for a long-distance, fun crush.

2. I'm writing a guy on OKCupid. I have no expectations, which makes this zero pressure. (If it weren't for this correspondence, I'd quit the site. Online dating makes me break out in hives.)

Do the Opposite

Yesterday I thought I should try something new: doing the opposite of what I would normally do (especially in social situations), a la George Costanza. I haven't actually put it into practice yet, but I'm on the verge.

What does this exactly mean? It means I'll speak up when I'd normally remain silent. It means I'll smile and maintain eye contact for a second longer than I usually would. It means I'll go to bars at nice restaurants by myself, because let's face it: it's much harder for a nice, sober guy to approach you when you're out with your girl friends.

Bill and TOTGA are perfect examples of the good things that can happen when I break out of my usual MO. With Bill, I walked up to him and said, "You're Bill, aren't you?" He stuck by me the whole night. With TOTGA I kept looking at him across the room all night long and then finally wandered over to him (such a brazen move! I was buzzed on sparkling wine) and said hello. I know, it doesn't sound difficult, but if you're on the shy side and if the man in question is particularly swoon-worthy (as these guys were), small moves seem gigantic.

Right now the "Opposite Move" I'm thinking about doing is telling Bill that I miss him. (Previously contemplated here.) It goes completely against my nature. I worry that it'll be unfair: he had a terrible time getting over me. Obviously, I shouldn't tell him that I miss him unless I'm willing to follow up with something--such as the possibility of getting back together. I'm open to that, actually. But what if the attempt fails? Let's say he responds positively. What if we give it a go and I realize that I was right the first time around. And of course there's the possibility that he won't respond positively ...

This is silly. Maybe it's worth it to just tell him that, for what it's worth, I have missed him. He was my best friend, and I know I (overwhelmed with sadness over TOTGA) focused on all of Bill's faults while ignoring the fact that I am flawed, too. He treated me well. We had a lot of common interests and a similar upbringing. I liked him (but was too shattered over TOTGA to fall in love). Worth revisiting?

OK Cupid, Whatcha' Got?

Ladies and gentlemen, we can blame (thank?) Loverville. I am in the process of joining OKCupid. I must say, for a completely free site, it seems very well designed and easy to use. And maybe they're just trying to lure me in, but the guys listed look interesting. (Must be fake profiles, right?)

Anyway, let the adventures ensue. I'm definitely not getting anywhere by following my set routines here at home--even if those routines involve hanging out (occasionally) at the NV hotspots. (Yesterday at brunch this 60-something man, drunk on mimosas I suppose, asked me if I was with someone. The answer was, of course, yes--I didn't want the guy bothering me! This is what one deals with here. Old, drunk, horny men. Wonderful.)

I feel entirely unconfident about this latest online dating attempt, but what's a girl to do? Last weekend I visited a friend in SF on what happened to be a gorgeous, sunny day. Everyone was out picnicking with their friends and family. I don't know if it was a ticking of the biological clock or if it was just loneliness, but I wanted that: the friends, the chubby children, the barbecue. I think my girlfriends felt it, too: the slight sadness of witnessing strangers' happiness. (But on the flip side, we have no diapers to change and no husbands to pick up after, though I know there is joy in caring for someone else.)