Mr. Bartender

I haven't heard from TallGuy since Wednesday. I'm a bit bummed about that, but taking it in stride. Per the Four Man Plan (4MP), I am cultivating my other quarters--all one of them. (I had another who turned out to be a weirdo, so he's off the plan.) Why not contact TallGuy now myself? Well, the idea of the 4MP isn't so much a Rules-based You Must Be Pursued thing as it teaches those of us who suck at dating how to not obsess about one dude. As such, I won't contact TallGuy (unless I hear from him) for another week and a half few days. That's right: the Plan stipulates that if the guy doesn't call you for a second date, you must call him at two weeks one week (ed note: I had that wrong, thank god!)--even if you don't want to go out with him. (Unless you get a seriously icky vibe from him, of course.) The idea again is to help you be light and free, non-obsessive--all that good stuff.

The old Ruby would be obsessed with TallGuy right now. And the truth is, I've had some trouble keeping my balance. But thanks to 4MP, I went out with my quarter, Mr. Bartender, for lunch today and actually had a really nice time. I was relaxed and felt no pressure and easily told him about where I am currently in the dating world: getting to know a lot of different people. (The 4MP calls this halving a man.) He was totally cool with it, and even asked me out next weekend.

So I hope TallGuy contacts me again, if only so I can show how cool and calm I can be--and so I can halve him.

But if not, so be it. I'll reach out to him the first week in July, and if that doesn't pan out, there are more fish in the sea. Hopefully tall ones. ;)

It's Pride week in N____ right now, and I'm going to an LGBTQ dance tonight with my friend and her partner. Hoping there will be some fun, straight guys I can get to know there!

Keep Your Cool

*fans self*

I'm just home form my first date with TG. We met for a drink at a new restaurant in town. I was so freakin' nervous I could hardly focus at work today. (I know, what am I, 16? But I didn't date at 16, so this could be part of the problem.)

I was excited/nervous to meet him because: he's tall, cute and local--but not local in a douchey way. See, here's an insider's tip about the NV: the NV attracts a lot of young guys who love the wine world with their whole ego. They love the lifestyle, they dream of wealth and fame, they love the wide-eyed women who are attracted to them because of the lifestyle and their closeness to wealth and fame … Yes, the NV is a hotbed of douchery.

But TG has lived here his whole life. He loves the outdoors. He feels bad about the guy who bought his house at the height of the housing market. He is not a douche--there's no pretense. He even drives a clunker because he and his brothers are working to rebuild the family business.

So on to the date itself: I think we were both nervous. So nervous that hopefully he doesn't remember anything stupid I may have said. Mainly I just remember those green eyes and bright smile. He reiterated what his profile said: that he's looking for a tall girl who lives here in the valley. TG is definitely values family and is looking for a partner--no one night stand guy here.

And the hug at the end (date kept to a wise one hour). You guys, this was the best hug I've ever experienced. For one thing, I was hugging a man far taller than me. (Remember, I'm 5'11"--he's over 6'6". I wore 3" heels.) For another, he squeezed me just perfectly--you know the kind of hug. I'm sure everyone around us were like, "Wow, look at that tall couple hugging." I don't care. It was awesome.

At our cars, he said he would love to take me to dinner sometime and asked me for my number. About 15 minutes after I got home, he texted to say again that it was good to meet me and that he would love to take me out for dinner soon. And, he said, I am even more beautiful in person. (This is lovely to hear--especially since I'm feeling particularly fat at the moment.)

I haven't texted back yet--I'm trying to play it coolish--but I will in a few moments. (screw "The Rules")  I think I tend to be a bit stand-offish so I think that wherever I can be "confidently warm" (as opposed to needy or some awful thing), it can't hurt. So I'll same something along the lines of definitely wanting to go out again and that that was the best hug ever. (Not weird, not needy--definitely encouraging, complimentary and a little flirty.)

Anyway, whew. After a lifetime of going on crappy first dates, it's nice to have one I'm excited about. Now the trick will be to keep my cool. I have the date with Mr. B Saturday and there's another guy from Oakland who wants to meet me. Between those guys, work and friends, there's plenty to keep me occupied.

Adventures in Dating

So far, my endeavor to date as many fabulous men as possible is going … slowly. Part of it is the cold, hard facts: I'm over 35. I'm 5'11". I'm not the fun, party girl that a good portion of the male population seems to be looking for. (Sorry guys, shoulda caught me 5 years ago.)

Right now I'm communicating with two guys. The first is Mr. Bartender. Mr. B works at a local restaurant that I predict will fold in 3 months. Last week I popped in right after work for a drink. I completely surprised him, and though I wasn't attracted to him, I was nervous and dorky. (At least that's my evaluation of events.) No matter: Mr. B has been very encouraging in his short messages to me. He invited me to lunch, and I suggested we meet in Y____ville, since that is closer to where I work. Well, guess what? He doesn't have a car.

Jesus.

Now, not having a car in San Francisco or Chicago or New York City is no big deal, but it's downright weird way out here in the country. My alarm bells are going off wildly because, if you remember, ex-fiance Mac was horrible with finances.

I'm meeting Mr. B for lunch here in N____ on Saturday. Why? Because I need to practice being my authentic self. I need practice dating, for Pete's sake. I think Mr. B is looking for a hookup and will drop me when he figures out that that's not my interest here.

But here's the one I'm interested in.

TallGuy is freakin' tall. Over 6'6" (I don't want to specify because of almighty Google). I've never gone out with a guy over 6'2"! TG wrote to me after I severely shortened my profile. I'd read in several places that we ladies need to keep our dating profiles short, light and sweet--that by including too many details we could unwittingly (1) appear cray-cray or (2) put up unintentional barriers. What the hell, thought I, highlighting my carefully crafted and often tweaked profile and deleting it with the press of a key.

My new profile says basically that I'm a chica living in the NV who likes to this, that and the other thing and I'm looking for a guy who can beat me at Scrabble. And then I parenthetically assure the reader that I'm joking. (A nice touch, I thought--a slight show of my nerdish hand and humor at the same time.)

Anyway, TG wrote me. And he was (is?) so complimentary and interested to meet me. I tried to play it cool--but not too cool. I showed interest (I hope) but not too much. In the past, I've made the mistake of sending these long emails. WHY? So I'm keeping them short and light and carefree. I don't even answer all the questions dudes send my way. Why should I? And if I do, what's left for the first date?

But I digress. I cannot wait to meet TG tomorrow. And, eff it, I'm wearing heels. Four-inchers. And even then, I'll be way shorter than him. I figure, who knows if I'll have this chance again? Girl, I'm taking it.

I'm also excited about meeting him because he's totally local to the NV--was raised here, even. His family owns a business and is prominent enough to Google to make sure he's a safe person to meet.

I need to remember several things:
1. I'm not ready for a full-blown relationship so easy does it
2. I really just know that this guy is tall, local and has two kiddos--no sense getting carried away. He could be as dumb as a sack of rocks.
3. Stay cool--keep the date breezy and 1.5 hours tops

I need to gather some other great guys to meet so I don't get too interested in this guy. But who knows? When we meet tomorrow I might be not at all attracted to him, despite his awesome, incredible, oh-so-sexy height.

We'll see.

Epiphany: I'm a Bad Dater

There are a few things that none of us wants to admit we're bad at--driving and sex are two biggies. On a walk this afternoon a realization hit me with a sickening thud: I am a terrible dater. And not just terrible, I'm a boring dater. Oh, god, what could be worse? I guess not realizing it would be worse.

Somehow I--moderately successful, attractive and intelligent--have gotten myself well into adulthood without understanding what it is to date--and date well. My typical MO is to find a guy I like, go out with him a few times (usually as few as 2 - 3 times) where we become exclusive and sleep together and then after a few months (3 is typical), I realize he's not the guy for me. I don't date around, which means there's a lot of pressure on me and this one guy to make something of the situation--either sex or exclusivity (usually both).

This is a recipe for disaster. More than that, it kills the enjoyment of getting to know someone--several someones--and making the best selection. (The whole sperm and egg scenario comes to mind. Natural selection exists for a reason!)

Why not create an environment where men can show me their best selves? Where I own my sexuality and share it when and with whom I choose? (instead of, oh the shame, having sex out of imagined obligation)

My excuse for focusing on one guy and one guy only in the past has been the area I live in. NV is tiny, true, but there's the East Bay to consider and Sonoma. And is San Francisco so very far?

I also haven't liked the idea of dating more than one guy at once. It seemed stressful and confusing, but I suspect now that the opposite is true.

So this is my new plan: to connect with as many guys as possible online and in everyday life and see what happens. I'm employing a close variation of the Four Man Plan--and so far, I've got only two quarter men, with nudges out to a few more on Match. Tonight I'll cultivate a few more.

Can this be done in the NV? Can this be done at thirty-{mumble}? We'll see.

Back in the Dating Saddle

So--let's skip past all the heartbreak. Basically, it all came to a head in late October/early November and I ended it. I immediately felt free, and have felt free since. Leaving Mac was hard, but it was the right decision--that's the stark truth of it.

Anyway, as I told Loverville a couple weeks ago (has it been that long already? time zips by these days): I joined Match. I blame Martha Stewart, because though she is of quite another generation, her joining Match put the idea in my head. Reader, I signed up.

So it's been two weeks, and so far it's been easier and more pleasant than any of my previous online dating experiences. Why? I just don't care--which, I suppose, defeats the purpose ever so slightly.

I've had a zillion guys view me--especially when I first signed up. I was low-hanging fruit and got tons of winks and one-liner chats/emails. My hair looks especially blonde in one of the photos, and I suspect this has something to do with it. (Also, c.f. "low-hanging fruit") That initial onslaught has fallen off significantly since I started. I haven't actively pursued (or, that is, emailed) anyone. I can't be bothered.

• I indicated interest to one guy who responded with an email--but turned out to be as interesting as a stack of bricks. (To be fair, I think the feeling was mutual.) I didn't respond after the second exchange.
• Another guy called me "sweetie" in his first email (which seemed very used car salesman to me, in the context) and I ignored him for a long while until he pinged me back. I emailed him, but I was bored, and he was bored--plus he called me sweetie again. I'm not going to bother.
• One of my winks game from a guy who had the handle "TattsNBeard." Sure enough--scads of tattoos and a powerful beard. I, endeavoring to keep an open mind, read his profile to find an articulate guy--and then I saw the pic of the tear tattooed at the corner of his eye. So much for open-mindedness!
• One guy favorite me, then winked at me, then--a few days later--sent me an email. I decided to go out with him.

We went out a couple weeks ago, and hit it off--hit it off in that we got along great and had an interesting first hour or so. See, I meant to keep the date to an hour, but we had two glasses of wine, and being in the wine country, it's not like you can nip into a cab and get safely home. We had to eat something, and so spent nearly 3.5 hours together, which just killed it. I don't even care, not a bit--but it is an odd phenomenon to get along with someone so well and then think to yourself, "Eh."

There have been other glancing tales to add to the above--mostly along the lines of the wistful older men wishing that my age range didn't end at 44. (I've been dating men who are 10+ years older than me for the last 6 years. I feel I need to dial that back a bit--not that I wouldn't date an older man again.)

I got a promising email a couple of days ago from a guy who shares one of my life-long interests: writing. In his pictures, he looks moody and overly intellectual. (So many guys make this mistake--shadowy, serious pictures, which I imagine they think makes them look sexy, when in reality it makes them look like criminals.) But his profile is interesting, and I'm keen on making contacts in this sphere, even if Twu Wuve isn't the end result. (Can you tell I have a thing for Princess Bride?) I think we're getting together Monday.

And tonight I met a guy in real life--such a rare thing. He was a bartender at a restaurant and took a shine to me the moment I landed. I know … bartenders! He gave me his card on the ruse of trading wine--he's starting a full-time job at a winery in the next couple of weeks (so no more bar tending). I checked out the wineries he works for--and it'll have to be 3-4 bottles of his wine to one of mine, but … I don't think this is really about wine.

I'm not exactly sure what the next step is. I guess I text him? I kind of just want to do it now, and not wait out some silly time period. Because, honestly, I'm over The Game. And odds are this one won't be Twu Wuve either.

And I'm fine with it. If I could be in my 30s forever, I think I would be perfectly happy with the occasional romance and an independent life. But I'll age, and I'm thinking that there's a comfort to companionship later in life. (More and more, though, I find that I crave a relationship that allows for two whole individuals--none of this melding stuff. More on this later--in 10 years, I'll probably have an entirely different view.)

Discussions and Repercussions

Something happened yesterday that is a perfect introduction into all the lovely discussions Mac and I had over the months of our relationship.

(Brief recap for anyone just joining in on the fun: despite my misgivings, I agreed to marry my boyfriend Mac last March--we subsequently broke up, and in a few posts I'm hashing it all out, with the idea that I'll learn from my mistakes, never to repeat them again. Amen.)

Midday yesterday I got a text from Mac. We have been in touch now and then since our breakup in early November--usually he's trying to win me back by declaring his love. More thoughtfully, he sent his condolences on the passing of a close relative a few weeks ago.

Yesterday, he texted me to find out if I was going to an art opening that night--because he wanted to avoid me. Ugh. Seven months post breakup, I feel this is crazy. It's true, the NV is small and one is liable to bump into all sorts of people, and our mutual friend owns this gallery … but it's been 6 months. I think we need to be mature enough to live and let live.

I responded with, "No, but Mac, this is ridiculous!" I was proud of my calling a turd a turd.

This inspired quite an exchange. And, of course, text is no place to argue. (But it also so happens that Mac doesn't listen in face-to-face "discussions," either--at least this way he can go back and read our thread, if he's so inclined.)

The issues we hashed out over text were the same ones we fought over in person, though Mac did apologize for telling me way back when that I "worried too much." (And it was more than that, folks. He actually very forcefully said--over and over--that I needed to be medicated for anxiety! I could have left him on that score alone. Not, mind you, that I have any problem with mediation--I just wasn't clinically anxious.)

The issues:

• He loved me. Couldn't I see that?! Apparently I need to remind him that I do not love him--I've done so before, but didn't bother yesterday. I only said that I thought he loved a version of me that doesn't exist. (Arguing in this way serves no purpose, I realize.)
• I need to have some faith in him! In the course of two years he didn't retain a part-time job, knowing what was at stake--i.e. our relationship; he didn't complete his bankruptcy proceedings (that's a whole other issue). I'm not so blind that I can't see writing on the wall.
• He wasn't going to let me be poor! This was a strange red herring, since, though I'm not anywhere near rich, I was definitely the money bags in this relationship. I don't know how he was "not going to let me be poor" since he had too much pride to get even the most humble of jobs. 
• [this from me] He stated once that he was attracted to successful women. "What if I'm attracted to successful men?" "You got me there," was his response. {History shows that I'm not attracted to successful men, however--at least in the short term. Gotta change that because the starving artist thing is not working.}

This was all "discussed" over the course of an hour. It was kind of ugly, but I didn't care--we had argued these points before, and at least with text, Mac didn't get on a wild streak and talk and talk and talk so I could not get a word in edgewise. 

In the end, he sent me a picture of a new artist's studio he's rented, and said, "Bye." I bet he's been dying to do that for weeks! My guess is his family is paying for it. 

I want him to be successful, but his success won't make me attracted to him again.

Anyway, these are the things we talked about over and over, from our engagement in Marge 2012 to our eventual breakup in November 2012. I was too kind. I expected him to understand things about me that he wouldn't--because he wanted me so much that he refused to see that we were not right for each other. 

Engaged--What The Heck?

If you've read any of the previous entries, you are probably wondering why the heck I agreed to marry Mac. It's a valid question; I wonder the same thing now, now that I'm out of the woods.

A week before he asked me to marry him we had a Big Discussion. Our first Big Discussion--and that it was our first such talk is completely my fault. This must have been early March 2012. I remember apologizing to him and telling him that I was only just realizing how serious he was about marriage. (False: according to this record alone, I was pretty sure he was on the marriage track in the fall of '11.) I explained that it takes me awhile to realize what I feel or think about a situation, and that he may have seen my gentle silence as encouragement where I was really only thinking about everything.

I know I brought up my concerns about his finances and job situation; I may have mentioned the whole sex thing, too. I told him we were not ready to get married. Mac reacted fairly well, I think--especially given later Big Discussions. He just said, "Well, this changes my plans …"

Ever the romantic, he couldn't see that my concerns were valid and important, and not the ravings of an anxiety-ridden chica.

I innocently thought that we were on the same page after this heartfelt talk--back to a more casual form of being, no marriage in the future.

A week later we were celebrating our one-year anniversary at a nice N____ V_____ restaurant. (And, by the way, I know you can decipher the location of the restaurant; I just don't want search bots to figure it out. This might be one of the few blogs that doesn't want to optimize for SEO!) We'd taken a cab, so indulged in cocktails and then a bottle of wine and a fabulous meal. Halfway through, suddenly I find a tiny, heart-shaped box in my hand. The tables that flanked us left and right were very close and therefore very aware of what was happening. It was loud; I was drunk. This was not the intimate proposal I had imagined.

But I loved him, despite our problems, despite the less-than-ideal atmosphere.

I said yes.

Foolishly, but perhaps predictably. I understand now (and I thought I did before) that love isn't enough. And I probably didn't truly love him, anyway--I know I didn't.

I couldn't sleep that night, spinning the vintage eternity band on my finger and wondering what I had agreed to and whether I had made a mistake.

You meet a man who can make you laugh, who is so helpful and considerate, who has a great personality and is cute, and you think, "Why not?" Well, there are reasons why not.

I didn't feel safe or supported, and though to this day he swears he loves me, I don't think he really does.

Since my last confession

Hello there.

I've committed the cardinal blogging sin: I disappeared without a word of explanation. So I'll explain now: it was all too much.

And that isn't a proper explanation, I realize. Aren't the best blogs the ones that are wrought? Well, I was wrought, my friends. (All three of you, if you're still out there.) Instead of spending hundreds (thousands?) of dollars on therapy--dollars I had a hard time coming by, since Mac wasn't exactly able to help--I should have written it out here. I may have arrived at the same conclusion sooner and less expensively.

Since November 11, 2011, the following things have transpired:

• Mac asked me to marry him; I said yes
• I knew immediately that it was a mistake
• I agonized; he basically called me crazy and said I needed to be on anti-anxiety meds
• Therapists (and psychiatrist) disagreed--thought my anxiety was incident/issue specific
• We broke up on November 2, 2012
• I was happy! And have been since the day we broke up, but recently that happiness was compounded when …
• I realized Sunday--fully realized--that despite all of his good characteristics, Mac is something of a shit. I refused to see it before. 

Friends, I'm getting ready to date again. Part of the preparation involves getting in shape (I gained probably 15 lbs during all of this drama); part of it involves fully understanding what happened so I won't repeat the same (same same same) mistakes (there's a dreadful pattern here)--and that's where this blog comes in. 

I'm going to revisit some of these key moments: the engagement, various fights/discussions, the breakup, the final realization. It should just take a few blog posts (four at the most), and they may come in rapid succession.

I'm ready to make a change, inside and out. 

Disregard Previous

I should know better than to post while stressed. Last week was a grueling work week and the agitation and frustration seeped into every party of my life but focused (increasingly) on Mac. And do you know what? The moment he walked through the door Saturday it all melted away.

It's true, I need to keep all these things (mentioned in the previous post) in mind, but I also need to rein in my tendencies to obsess and overthink and tiptoe to the dark side. There are things to work through, sure, but that doesn't mean we're done for. I do love him. Muchly.

Must employ the weapons in my power (communication, patience, de-stressing) and proceed. This is real, and reality has it's hiccups.

We just celebrated 8 months. At 9 months, it'll be a record for me. (Yes, if the fact that I've ended all my relationships till now well before the 9-month mark doesn't tell you something ... )

Magnifying Glass

Have you noticed when reading a biography (book, article, Wikipedia) that the person's choice of mate is reveals certain key traits? I'm thinking of American literary greats at the moment--Hemmingway, Fitzgerald, Steinbeck, etc, etc. Their choice in wives and lovers said a lot about their characters. Have you ever wondered what your choices in significant others say about you?

Does that thought grip you as it does me?

We often talk about "our types" and I readily admit that I am attracted to a certain kind of man, but until tonight, I hadn't thought about what this long line of men says about me and my flaws. What am I not seeing about myself that a biographer would easily expose through my choice in partner?

Heavy thoughts for a Friday night.

I left you dangling after the last post. There's no ring on my finger, but Mac has talked plenty of marriage. Most of the time I am very happy: he is incredibly funny, he is attentive and exceedingly helpful, he wants me to be happy, he's great at home improvement! But last night, when talking to my mom (who I hadn't seen in months), she asked me where I thought we were headed, and I said, "We'll probably get married." And as soon as I said it, I realized that I am just not ready yet--the concept, while a happy one (or is it?), stresses me out. Marriage is such a huge thing--I am in a better financial position than he is (though not able to support another person entirely), why get married?

I realize you've missed all the in between stuff--last entry, I was over the moon and this entry I'm gunshy. I must seem crazy, but remember--some time has passed.

I need to tell him I'm not ready, and he may ask if I'll ever be ready and I'll have to say that I don't know. I don't want to break up; I just want the pressure lessened. He is a true sweetheart and any girl would be lucky ...

I read this in the transcript of Carolyn Hax's live chat today (love her advice, btw--wish I had found her years ago):

Q.

"WHEN IT'S RIGHT"

First, thank you for your consistently sound advice. I find myself curious about your perspective on determining when a relationship is right for the long term. How do you know? Is it when you stop asking the question? Or when you fall into a stable pattern? I've been in a relationship for nearly 3 years and find myself struggling to determine the criteria by which to judge whether this relationship will be right for me for the long term.

• –
  November 11, 2011 2:12 PM
• Permalink

A.

CAROLYN HAX :

I think it's when you really like the version of you that the relationship brings out, and when it's a version that's easy for you to maintain. And when you're no less happy to see the person walk in the room than you were at the beginning.

Thanks for the kind words.

– November 11, 2011 2:29 PM

Do you think she's right? I am inclined to agree with her, and when I first read it, I had a sinking feeling ... But then I also think that if Mac will give me time and not pressure me, I may come around.

That's the essence of it, so if you want to stop reading there, you have my permission. (you're welcome!) Here are what I see as complications to lifelong bliss--and notice that I am focusing on his faults, not mine, so this is entirely unfair:

1. He freelances--I've mentioned the financial issues before, but the freelance work brings up another issue: he has a lot of time on his hands--time spent alone. He thinks about me, misses me, wants to see me as soon as possible. Nothing wrong there, right? I, on the other hand, work in a busy office environment 9 hours a day. I'm multitasking, making decisions, fielding problems and solving them; I'm trying to stay on top of my work load and drive initiatives instead of reacting all the time to whatever bounces my way. I don't have time to miss or pine or think about him, and at the end of the day, I want to be on my own. We've worked this out (mostly) so that I see him on weekends and we spend one night together during the work week.

2. Yes, the finances. Those things again. I've told him that I won't move in with him (much less marry him) with a certain financial tangle hanging over his head. But it's a bigger issue than that: I don't know that I want to live with someone who doesn't know how to live within his means! Even if he were wealthy, it would stress me out if he didn't budget, save and plan.

3. I'm definitely a more literary/intellectual type. Do I need someone who keeps up with me? Not necessarily--I haven't found my male equivalent yet (who wasn't an ass), so ... No, maybe I don't need this.

4. Libido disparity. Another big one. He and I have talked this one to death. He would happily have sex every day, while I could compromise and have it once a week. (intercourse, with maybe some other fun activity--one that's quicker and requires less energy) I know--so unsexy! But it's true--I just don't have a big desire for sex (and do I envy you minxes out there!). This is a problem. He certainly deserves more, but we're caught here--I resent his implications that there's something wrong with me that needs to be fixed. (He hasn't said spelled it out quite like that.) There's a wide range of normal--why can't my level be normal and why do I have to be the one to try all manner of potions to get it "fixed"? (note: I have not sprung for this yet) Under it all, I do worry: am I not attracted to him? Are the other problems enough to quell a fragile and sensitive sex drive?

I think this all could be enough to doom a relationship. But could I still make it work anyway? It's different these days--women don't need men to put roofs over their heads. Do I want to be the one to put a roof over a man's head? I tell myself maybe, if I made twice as much, but maybe even then I would resent it.

I want to build something with someone. I don't want to be the provider, and I don't want kept. Are these things too much to ask and by asking these questions am I risking losing something truly great?

The Missing Ring

Summer passed so quickly--a whirlwind. My friends have recently accused me of being a social butterfly (me? The Introvert?)--usually in slightly hurt tones, as if I haven't been attentive enough. It's true, in previous incarnations, I was available at a hat's drop--movie? drink? Sure! But now, my weeks must be planned out well in advance. It's not just Mac, it's everything: exercise, therapy (yes, I started that up--I know some of you are thinking, Finally!), Me Time, the many varied friends ... And Mac gets precedence with weekends and at least one week night devoted to him.

Well, I decided I needed to carve out some precious time for you dear people--mostly anonymous, but no less appreciated. I decided this about 10 minutes ago as I was loading dishes in the dishwasher. I decided I would write about how I was really happy with Mac, never mind our challenges and faults. I would say that we were six months in and in love and that, finally, I am with someone I can marry. And I thought I'd tell you all how we've talked about Marriage, off-handedly but in a very real way.

And then, suddenly, something in my brain clicked: there was that missing ring on the stand. (I figured the cat had knocked it off and it was irretrievably behind the furniture.) I remembered that he'd been by the jewelers today to give them an heirloom that he's selling .... I considered how I'd lent Mac the keys to my place today and how he'd been here when I got home. I dashed back to the bedroom and sure enough: the ring was back.

Eeeks, you guys! I half wish I wasn't such a detective, but mostly I am delighted that I am delighted. I don't think The Ask is imminent, but I know what I'll say when he does ask. For the first time in my life, at the ripe, old age of 35: I am ready.

Dollar signs

Our week-long vacation/road trip went fantastically well. Seven days together, navigating road maps/gps and hotels and I wasn't driven mad! And neither was he! This is a record. More than that, I love him as much as ever--more, I think, if love is indeed measurable.

There are rough spots. Our big rough spot is his financial position. I want to help him without being a crutch. I want him to be happy. I don't want to support two people on my salary. He needs [equipment for his business] and a new phone (not to mention the rent that's due and new clothing), but even if I could afford to get him those things, I don't think we're at the place in our relationship where I should get them.

I love him, I do. The thought of us not working out makes my heart hurt. But we're not even five months in, and I am not rolling in cash. I think me playing fairy god mother (with cash I don't have) is unwise. And it's hard for me not to feel a little ... curmudgeonly about this. I found a decent job with a decent wage. Why can't he?

I hope to heaven this rough spot can be worked out because I don't want to be resentful or frustrated. I paid for this vacation of ours, and I'm OK with it. We had a fantastic time and I wouldn't take a penny of it back.

I just wish we were on equal footing, financially.

Luck in Love

Are you prepared for more swoon? Because that's all I have, folks. It's partly why I haven't updated because, well, it can be a bit much to read about someone who is lucky in love. (Sometimes ... am I right?) Also, I have been slammed at work, working over 14 hours the last two days on photo shoots. I'm exhausted, but as I noted to my friends last weekend on a road trip to LA: it could be worse. We could be working in a grimy-floored convenience store. (We had to stop at several along I-5.)

Anyway, things are going very well with Mac, and I'm not even waiting for the other shoe to drop. We're that good. I know what our sticking points will be: finances and (let's face it) slightly mismatched libidos. But, you know, there's always something. I think if we can just keep communicating and respecting each other, we can work through those issues.

I have never been in this place in a relationship before--in love, still, at the four month mark. I think it's a combination of dating the wrong people and really, really not being in a place where I could give and receive love. (As airy-fairy as that sounds it's really an important thing--to accept and to give. I couldn't do it for so long.) Usually at three months I was feeling extremely antsy and unhappy.

Mac and I have vacation planned in a few weeks--a big road trip. (We're going to visit my sister in one city, and then his sister in another.) This will be a big test, I guess, though I'm hardly thinking of it that way. We'll spend hours in a car together; negotiate all the adventures that will come our way. Will it prove that we're great together or will it be our undoing? Actually, I think a road trip is the perfect thing for a couple to do at the 4+ month mark--especially if they are moving along as successfully as we are. It'll tell us a lot about each other.

Mac's ex (again, a friend of mine) got a boyfriend a month and a half ago. This is very relieving. Two weeks ago, the ex de-friended Mac on Facebook. (O, Facebook! You necessary-ish evil!) Mac, hurt, texted ex to find out why. She said she didn't want to see what he and I were up to--however, she and I are still FB friends, so she can see any Mac/Ruby action. (We don't put up that much stuff, honestly ...) Well, that very same week she announced, via Facebook, that she and her boyfriend (of one month, at that time) are moving in together! I'm surprised, a smidge worried and, well, incredulous. I also hope they're happy. Rushed situations such as these have worked out before--I truly hope this one does ... (but, um, worried)

In other news, I'm working on some writing projects here at home--trying to, anyway. Focus is one of the damnedest things, as is trying to decide what to write about. So far, I've been writing about Love--because it's a theme that doesn't tire. We all crave it. There are other, great themes out there, though, that I'd like to tackle--but Love is a great place to start.

Wishing you all (how many every many of you still read here) much luck and much love.

Guess what?

It's been a month and a half since my last confession ... And there's much to confess.

All good things. Very good things. So many good things have happened since I last posted that I'm not sure if I should just skip to the nitty-gritty-wonderful truth or if I should (all writerly like) tease it out.

I don't have the patience for teasing out the truth, though, so here you are: Mac and I are together. Very much together. Like, "this is GREAT" together.

I've never been friends with someone before dating him before, and I have to say this has made a huge difference for me. I feel so much more comfortable, there's so much more trust. Feelings are truer, I think.

That's not to say that there isn't risk here. There is risk. This is new and we're each wearing our hearts on our sleeves. But I don't care--life is short. I want to love wholeheartedly. I haven't done this before.

One of the bigger things we've had to deal with is the fact that his most recent ex is an acquaintance of mine. I told her--weeks ago--that I liked Mac. This was after he and I had had one steamy makeout session and it was clearer than clear that we were going somewhere. The ex has been great--very kind to me and just cool about it all. I know it must not have been easy. In fact, she contacted Mac and asked him to let her know if we were going to be at an event that she might be at. (Small, small valley.) Even though she was the one to put the kibosh on the relationship, I understand--I didn't want to see Bill (my ex) with his new gf after I dumped him. Humanity and all that.

Anyway, I am aware of Mac's faults but I love the whole of him--despite the not-so-perfect things. I think I'm finally at a place in my life where I can look at a man for who he is and not wish he would transform into something else. Mac isn't going to save me or make me wealthy, but that's OK because that's not what I need in a man (salvation, bank account): I need someone who's in it with me. And he is.

So far.