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.

That's Not My Bag

New rule: I am not responding to men without their pictures.

I know, you're saying to yourselves, "Oh, Ruby! That's the first rule of online dating!" Well, I had it as a quasi rule before, and now it is a freakin' firm rule.

Why? I only have a moment to tell you before I rush to work.

BigD contacted me the other night. No pic, brief profile. What the heck? I was bored. I emailed him after work yesterday--something light and fluffy. He wrote back and I let the email sit. I try not to judge a person by their writing, knowing that many people can't arrange words to they adequately express themselves. But red flag: He wanted to meet right away. Um, I haven't even seen your picture, and I don't know anything about you! His last question "Have you read my profile ... All of it?" made me curious. He must have a clue in there because his profile was quite scant of info.

So this morning, while thinking of how to handle the sitch, I looked at his profile and googled his latest reads. My friends, the man is looking for a Dominant.

Next!

Crash & Burn

I have not felt so awkward since high school--I swear!

Tonight at a major event (anything that draws 3000+ people in the Napa Valley is a major event) I screwed up the courage to talk to a guy. I'd seen him before--met him, even, under strange circumstances. Well, I walked up to him and said hi and didn't he know so and so? And then I referenced the strange circumstance, which he didn't remember, and the awkwardness only increased from there.

We were both clearly nervous, and either he thought I was cute, too, and was thrown for one gigantic loop, or he just has a hard time shooting the breeze with girls who find him attractive. I even asked him about one of the wines he was pouring, figuring that would put him at ease, and instead of extrapolating, as he easily could have done, he said, "Oh, that's a cab." Really?

I finally just walked away, basically. I probably said it was nice to meet him or something, I don't know.

Wow. I was equally the dork in this situation, but ... jeez. I'd forgotten it could be so bad! Chances are, he probably feels like an idiot.