Survival of the Fittest

First the great news: I snapped a pair on and contacted TG on Wednesday, one week from our first date--as The Four Man Plan (4MP) stipulates. I was so nervous, but realized that waiting a week was a great idea: enough time had passed that I was perfectly fine with whatever the outcome. One week is enough time to not appear desperate but to still seem interested. Nice.

So I texted TG asking whether he wanted to meet up again. An hour passed, and I started brainstorming gracious replies to what would likely be a "thanks but no thanks" response. Then, a half hour later I got an enthusiastic reply: he would love to meet again but is really busy through Monday. He'd contact me at the beginning of next week--Monday! And then he sent a pic …

He wasn't wearing a shirt. Nice! Even nicer, he took it at an angle that made him appear … well, larger than he is. And I like that because 1) he wasn't posing all beefcake like and 2) it makes him human. I responded very casually with a "Sounds good!" and then a pic of my own: me in my office, wearing glasses, looking (I hope) like a sly, sexy librarian. It was supposed to be funny, but he doesn't know me, so who knows if it translates.

But the pressure is off. He'll contact me Monday and we'll have our second date. Who knows?

I contacted Mr. Bartender, who has no car and now, as it happens, no job (UGH), on Thursday--again, for that required second date. Because of his job/car situation, I feel like I've accidentally fallen into the role of instigator, which I really don't want to do. I suggested we go to a local brewery … but then, realizing that I had taken the lead, backed off. Mr. B asked if he could call me that night and I said sure, thought I would be out with a friend.

The whole thing irritated me--just call, don't ask! I feel like I keep making excuses--though I was relieved to have them.

Part of it is I don't know Mr. B well. He's virtually ungoogleable, whereas TG's family business is prominent. I feel far more cautious with Mr. B.

Well, we have a date this afternoon at a billiards club. At least it'll be in the A/C. He wanted to meet this evening, but I said I had plans. I don't. I just don't want to be out with this guy at night just yet.

Obviously, I'm not attracted to Mr. B much, so why I am I doing this? To keep my options open. To keep from obsessing about TG. To learn to be open to men and to learn from them.

It's a tall order for me. I hope the exercise is worth it.

But Mr. B? You need to start stepping up with making plans. And note to self: no more taking the lead!

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.)

What Happened

What happened Sunday was a whole lot of nothing--mostly.

I know it seems silly, but I was stressed because this wasn't a first date even but the guy had expressed clear interest--and he's a friend of one of my best friends ... and I wasn't sure I was interested! I know, perhaps too much overthinking was poured into this but ... I've been known to get overly physical with a guy because I wasn't sure what to do and didn't want that to happen this time.

Ahem. Clearly I like to put the cart before the horse.

LV asked a very good question: have I ever discussed this anxiety with a shrink? Yes, but it's been awhile, and I suppose a refresher wouldn't hurt.

For the record, I hide my little anxieties very well. If I confess to my colleagues (at a happy hour or some such) that I am an introvert at heart, they are shocked. I do the calm, cool and collected thing very well--which is why it feels so good to confess the darker side here. (And I know many introverts who are the same. Introverts are most often not the shrinking violets you see at the dark corners of the room; they are often actors or public speakers--it's true! It's easy to throw a persona to the crowd--as long as we don't have to reveal our true selves and as long as we get copious amounts of down time.) (And by the way, I suspect my anxieties don't have much to do with my introvertedness--more that I just never learned how to be friends with a guy, to not expect anything, to leave sex out of it, for Pete's sake.)

Anyway, what happened was this: the guy (don't know if he needs a name) came over, fixed the thing he came to fix, and I offered him a beer.

All well and good, right? We sat in the living room and talked, awkwardly. I tried to put him at ease, tried to discern whether I was attracted to him (all the while thinking: sometimes it's the guy who doesn't get you to the core that ends up being the love of your life--or so I've heard). We ended up talking about sex, somehow--as in how old we were the first time. I wouldn't tell him (that tale I save for significant others), but he told me about his first time--in general terms, the little stud.

He suggested we get together next week--casually, not a date. We hugged. Fin.

I discussed the whole thing with our mutual good friend. She thinks he's interested. But am I? The whole thing is fraught. Fraught, I tell you!

Oh, I like drama--I'm really not so worked up. ;)

PS--Ironically, another guy is coming over sometime soon to fix something else! And with this one, I know I'm not interested. (Tried to get out of his assisting me, but he insisted, and who am I to stand in the way of a good deed?)

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?

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 ...