I've dropped off the face of the earth. My life has been a whirlwind. And a lot of it hasn't had anything to do with dating actually.

Brief summary: I started dating a guy (wow that's unusual, right?) and it was going pretty good, but then it didn't (look at me bucking that trend, what a surprise). I went home and saw friends and suprisingly behaved myself the WHOLE time (not willingly). Then, I got a terrible haircut and I've since justified my non daterly inclinations with the thought that men who were attracted to me right now either have no taste or are wayyyy tooo good at seeing inner beauty.

So right now I'm on summer break.... And by break, I mean, I'm not paying for any more online subscriptions to dating websites, I'm not chasing anyone, I need to breathe and work on nesting (pictures to hang people, furniture to shop for, etc). Plus I have a lot of impending visitors for the rest of this summer, dear friends all, and I am so excited to show my new city and my new life off to them. I've even been thinking about joining some kind of sporting team or social thingy, like a volunteer site or something...(still plenty of time for me to do that. No rush). But I do have things to say about dating. Most of them asinine, just like the doctor ordered. So don't you worry, there are stories to come, musings to share. And just for your amusement, I sent an email to a poster on craigslist who posted just about the most interesting post I've ever read.

So I'll still flirt relentlessly with men, and I sure do hope my real life buddies who live where I live want to set me up with some interesting strangers. I hope Yoga Guy reappears tomorrow night from his month in Europe and just takes me in his arms and declares his undying love for me....but in some times of your life you can live on hope and glances and I'm thinking this summer is one of those times- a bit of a grace period. I'm thinking of learning to knit, so that that combined with the pet cat, the living alone and the celibacy will make me eligible for a senior discount. Meanwhile I shall continue to fall in love with every single moderately attractive man I see out there, if he isn't actively shoving his tongue down some other person's throat, or wearing a ring. So you know, I'm still me.

Remember my old school chum? The one I had one magical 24 hour fling with while the snow piled up outside the window, at Christmas time? If not, skim back a ways. I was home on vacation for a bit during this last quiet blog period and he was around and also single and interested and everything conspired to keep us from each other. It was unbelievable. He actually caught the swine flu right when we had plans for a date. I'm not even kidding. Its like God reached out her hand and in a booming (yet ladylike) voice said, "not gonna happen. Woman, no man booty shall thee taketh, or I shall smite him with PLAGUES." And lo, disregarding these words, we made dinner plans and then there was smitage. Seriously. These things happen to me in real life- swine flu interrupts my booty calls. I can't even make it up.

More to come soonish.

I'm home waiting for carbs (pasta and sauce) to drink up the red wine from my internet date this evening. This is the guy I wasn't so much about. Here's what happened though:

He showed up and was pleasant. I don't LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM, but if there's a spectrum from bliss to loathe, hes located on it well away from Loathe Camp. He even had good retorts for the things I'd picked as his disqualifiers based on our email exchanges.

And this is how I think (yes E, let us know your mercenary mind): " Well he's cuter than his picture. Not as cute as Yoga, but certainly not bad on the eyes. Bit of a receding hairline, but then again, taller, muscular and didn't I read somewhere that balding men have a better sex drive? Admit it love, the sex you've been having here, well....probably can't afford to turn down science as an indicator. I bet if he wore more with it glasses too that would change the whole bone structure in his face....hmm....he's witty that's for sure. Points for conversational amusement....ponder.


So we hugged goodnight and I left perfectly balanced between interest and disinterest. I had low expectations so he scored well above them meaning I don't want to turn down a second date, but probably am disinterestd. Meanwhile with Yoga, I had no expectations by virtue of us meeting on a non-date, so he's scored correspondingly high for each portion of initiative, and I wonder if that inflates the price and puts a depression on the value of these blind datey things. And Yoga, while possessed of a face and general demeanor which makes me want to do back flips isn't ever going to make me feel dainty since he's my height, so....ponder. I guess second date with the guy I'd discounted is sort of on the books, but isn't necessarily where I want to go....ponder...fuck....

Yes. I am this shallow and lightly pathetic. But at the same time, if you find men in general to be basically decent creatures, and like them generally, how do you decide who's worthy of smoochin and who you should say goodnight politely to and walk away from forever?

PS. Lunch with OH NOES and other coworker tomorrow. Yes. I am a bad woman and I shall allow myself to text yoga tomorrow too. Deliciously bad woman.

I made a new chart for the last 3 months. I didn't chronicle everything because I started to forget it all, but I think the major points are on there.

Yesterday I had a second amazing date with Yoga Guy. We talked and talked and talked and it was sublime. I can't put the blown away-ness into text, but it's this deliciousness, this desire to learn everything about him, to have him know all about me, wrapped in this longing to learn no more, in case it taints what I know so far, to keep my mouth shut so he won't figure out that I'm uninteresting, etc. Its possibility and it's so very exciting and terrifying. I'm so tempted to do something totally crazy just to end this feeling like I'm up on the high wire, again, in a place I fell so badly from. We didn't kiss though, and I'm feeling hard pressed to explain why, but it just didn't happen- I'm not sure how you kiss for the first time when you are getting out of the car, and I suspect we may share a mutual trepidation of seatbelt entanglements.

And I have other irons in the fire: Journalist, Yogurt Bet and Waiter. I don't have a ton to say about them except that they're possibilities, and I am going to keep my options open unless there are serious smoochies and such.

I haven't been updating a lot. I think I've become a little tip of the icebergy- so much is going on internally and I just haven't paused much to reflect and catch up with myself, let alone put it down in type. I end up hashing these things over with my good work buddies on my morning coffee runs and letting them give me advice, so that's part of it too.

I had a really tough March. It just was a hard month that kicked me around a lot. April has been this amazing coming through the tunnel thing, where I suddenly landed in OZ and the world was in full color and I stopped falling down stairways on my way to work in the morning and having sinks magically clog on me, etc. I feel grateful to be alive, cheerful to be dating, hopeful and scared about what might come of dating. I'm afraid of really being smitten by someone and not so much of having them not feel that way about me, but of the reverse- of going on a 3rd date with someone, and a fourth and such and that being good- of caring again.

My hair has grown out from the break-up cut AND the transitional break-up to grow out trim. I'm waiting on about 2 more inches before I go in and get a style that suits medium to long hair.

In a strange way the city has been my great love affair. In post break-up life I got off the couch and went out and lived, and moved into a grown-up apartment and decided I'd stay here and really got attached to the city more and more deeply. I need a vacation badly so I'm going home to see people in a month or so, but I'm actually feeling a little pang just thinking about leaving here for that brief time and being submerged in family. My life is MINE- for the first time. I am in charge of it all. Even the parts I'm not good at, its my place to learn that, and maybe fix it, or maybe not.

I sort of wonder if I have room in all this for someone. I know I'll make space for someone if capital L love comes along- I'm cupid's bitch that way, but I had a fling sort of thing last month and it was the night he came to the new place, and I woke up thinking, "no thanks. I don't want you here. This is my space, my home" that I realized I am currently loving my solitude. Somehow this bigger furniture free, emptier apartment is actually filling me with joy and fullness-it erases loneliness. I feel like all these dates have been an amusing hobby- something that took my mind off how hard it was to move and work a real job and have work politics and then nearly lose my pet and then have my love so dramatically spurned. It's done it's job and I still love it but I don't need it as much as I did- I've become a lot more hands off about it from day to day.

Yesterday with yoga guy WAS incredible though. Swoon.

So. I finally coaxed a reluctant but nice coworker to come to the bar for end of the week happy hour.

But. He sent me an email with a WINKY FACE.

And then at happy hour he did that shoulder tap thing.

OH noes.

He's totally attractive and funny and nice too.

Oh noes.

My other friend was all, "so what was up with that? I think he wants you!"


oh no. oh no no no noes.

Guyyyyyyssss....I'm really sort of trying to stay out of trouble. Really! Sort of.

He is very pretty and taller and nice and pretty.

Yoga guy was in class! I was ebullient and rambled and managed not to stupid it up too much, except walking straight into a parked car and I managed to smoothly be all, "but we need to catch up! Do you have time for dinner?" and he was all smoothly, "no but I'll give you a ride home and we can talk on the way." and i was all, "okay. cool! blah blah blah, listen listen listen." and he was all, "here we are, we should do eating together like you suggested how's lunching friday?" And I was all, "friday is good, no wait I lie, how's saturday?" and he was all, "Well i could move my schedule, um... no... well, at least lets have dinner next wednesday, do you have a card?" and I did because my new business cards showed up today and I wrote my number and my email and that is the end of my story. He can call me now. So that's all I wanted. That and to look into his sparkly eyes and hear his nice voice...ah me. Eternal pessimist I am- I suspect this all can't possibly end well.

Who will win, "For My Favorite Craigslist Ad" this week?! Oh the suspense?

Was it the indie film director who needs a young actress to become a hollywood power duo? Was it the 28 year old virgin who has "heard stories about women who like to help with this?" Was it the man who sincerely wants to check your horoscope before he will try a first date with you? Or perhaps the vampire who is seeing a victim. No. No. Oh my god no.

It is this one (http://losangeles.craigslist.org/wst/m4w/1121306750.html) because it involves a photo of his "power drill of love". It's safe for work, unless your work has no sense of humor. Wait till you are home if you work where I work.


So the dating hiatus is over. Mostly successfully, except not. I didn't make it the full month without sex. I am a weak woman who had a series of rough weeks and got booty called ( by B.2...is he even in the line up? I don't know. But there's a B.2 and it stands for bootycall buddy who is nice and looks at me like I'm so awesome which is healing balm, even though I haven't any chemistry with him and therefore I do not want to hurt his feelings and should just nicely shoot him down, but it was a terrible month and I am weak) and had no willpower whatsoever to be alone that night. Let us draw a curtain over those events, as they reflect not well on me, and chalk it up to the possibility that there was a week in February prior to the hiatus in which I also slept with no one, and therefore, I may have started the month earlier than I consciously knew (I know! Its the worst post rationalization and doesn't hold up at all! Leave me and my guilt alone already!). I did learn (relearn, already knew and did anyway?) that unsatisfying physical intimacy with someone who is nice, but you feel no real emotional intimacy with is not even as satisfying as a really nice date.

Even more sadly (fortunately?) this non-emotional sex that I broke my promise to myself for was not with yoga guy because he has not been at the last 4 classes and may be gone forever as far as I know. Some people still have hope he'll come back. I don't know that I can bear to hope anymore, but I'm pondering the advisibility of showing up to a community event he mentioned he'd be at next month as a last ditch effort. It seems like both a fabulous and terrible idea. Terrifyingly fabulous? Fabulously terrible? I think I could make it seem not creepy (First attempt: hey realnameofyogaguy, I remembered you mentioned this thing so I thought I'd stop by and see it, see if you were still alive too. It was really good. Well done you! Now fall instantly in love with me and whisk me away from my life of drudgery, like you offered when you suggested we run away to the azores that night we ate sausages and drank beer. I am a bloody idiot for refusing that offer and kick myself daily and I will live for you alone from here on out. Too much?)

So I got sucked back into the online dating thing and sent out a few emails. One guy who looks cute in his pictures sent me an email during the hiatus totally without prompting on my part. This is the first attractive male who emailed me first and wasn't old enough to date my mom, so Super Score there. Because I was in my hiatus and done with MEN, you terrible adorable wonderful things which i am weak for like you were a pint of Ben and Jerry's coffee heath bar crunch, and which cause the same metaphorical equivalent of cellulite on my heart, I politely shot him down and wrote this back: "I have to admit- I'm actually taking a bit of a dating hiatus this month. I admire your chops in writing though, and I'm happy to trade emails." He was nice and said he was busy in grad school and would enjoy that just fine.

Sadly his name is exactly the same as B.2's. Seriously. I know the numbers and letters are confusing, but it's really not that much simpler to keep track of when you know their names- they all seem to blur together at the beginning of the alphabet (not yet gone on a date or even traded more than 2 emails with a guy whose name falls beyond the letter G. I think the count is something like 3 As, 3Bs with a repeat, 3+Cs with a repeat, 1D, 1E and a G) . My co-worker today suggested I should intentionally seek out and date a Zack just to break the curse. I think I'd need to find a Xerxes to break this curse. I'd forgotten I was on my 3rd B name by now. Occupation or code names seem to work sort of . B.3 then is a journalist.

So we have been trading emails. Intially slowly, but with increasing frequency. I like that he writes back with shapely sentence structure, prompt replies, humorous phrasing and asks me questions about myself. Be still my heart! He's literate, matches my education levels, wears glasses, and appears to be nice. When he finishes grad school I'll offer to buy him a celebratory drink and see where this all goes.

Anyway thats about where I stand at the moment on my dating quest. As same coworker pointed out to me today, "at least you'll look back on your 2os and know you really lived." Good point. Someday the qualms I have now about the stupid and flippant way I'm going about the serious business which is finding love, will vanish in a haze of lovingly glossed over memories which will make this all seem like one big adventure with no doldrums or low points. That's how it was with high school and college. Instead of remembering being deadly bored in class and waiting for quitting time each day, I only remember things like getting drunk and throwing pumpkins, acing presentations, wearing absurd clothing, and making out with inappropriate people. Actually....that's my life now too.

Oh my. I could write several thousands of pages on this, but for those who have yet to try online dating, or are apprehensive, I thought I’d do a reflection on my experiences and preferences.

Safety:

First off...is it safe? I know the young kids probably don’t have the same worries those of us who remember the days when we could get a AIM name without any numbers or clever substitutions (“Aww...rockerchick is taken. I guess I’ll be rockerchick1...”) attached do, but I notice that amongst us 20somethings and up we still have a little stranger danger going on in our assessment of the internet (“they could pretend to be a woman and secretly be a man!”) and a little extra worry about someone on a personals site (why can’t they meet someone in real life? What’s wrong with them?).

So I’ve gone on a number of blind internet dates and a number of dates with idiots I’d just met in real life, and I have to say the dangers are no greater. Which is to say, the internet has liars and people with freaky weird issues on it, in the same proportions available in real life.

You should take the same paranoid precautions my mother would approve on a date with a guy you met at the bar as you do with your internet date:

Write down their number on a piece of paper which reads, “In case I’m missing on monday, I went to meet “John”, if that is his real name.” Tell a couple friends. In today’s age of technology, you can even text someone the name and meet up time, and request a “still alive?” text to be sent the next morning.

Meet someplace public. Offering to cook you dinner is international date speak for, “I would like you to be close to my bed, and run your hands over the spines of my books. Or you know, other spines.” I recommend a coffee shop or bar so in case it sucks you can bail without having to wait for the entrees.

Don’t tell your mother about any of it (this applies to fathers and grandmothers too) until you get back from said date. That way you can say, “I had a date with a lawyer on sunday. He’s tall, dark and is rereading Proust.” Her grandkid software will be so busy computing the odds she’ll forget to ask how you met giving you some time to make up your story that doesn’t involve the internet, because if you tell her you met through the internet, she’s going to tell you about a news story she watched where a girl was hacked to death by her internet date.

Wear clean underwear and shave your legs. This way if you do want to let your date “cook you something at her place” or if you do unfortunately get hacked to death no one is going to be embarrassed by your poor hygiene.  That’s right folks, two birds, one stone. Don’t Bridget Jones it with the granny panties and girdle.

Here’s why I heartily recommend internet dating:

The Don’t Pee Where You Eat Principal: You will meet people who don’t leave their close knit circles often enough to have a wide dating pool. This usually means that they aren’t big bar hoppers/party animals, and have one or two other life interests aside from getting laid. I like this because when you say, “no thanks” after a bad date with one of these folks you will be unlikely to run into them as often as someone you met inside your own life. This means you won’t need to move, quit your job or leave your gym in order to avoid them- you guys already WERE avoiding each other.

Items are Made To Order: You can start by getting in touch with your wishlist people. Always wanted a tall guy? Go for it- the sites usually lists stats. Wanted a blond, a musician? Depending on how big your hometown is, again, you can go for it. Online dating is like a big catalogue- you can surf for what you want. I think it’s more honest from the outset than meeting someone at a party, loving the conversation and then on the second date finding out that they think meat is murder and can’t support anyone who was conservative enough to vote for Gore instead of Kucinich in 2004 (they’d maybe accept a Nader vote, but it pains them). You don’t have to compromise your shallow aesthetic standards, or your core values just because you met them in real life and now feel that they’re real people. Online profiles are this big stat book, and you can browse to your heart’s contentment before you try to get to know any of the eligible young things out there as real people. Also people who have quirky special needs like foot fetishes and such, are probably on specific websites catering to that sort of thing, so I think you have a little less to fear in the possibility that your dating desires will match up poorly- the sites do seem to self-select to some degree.

Many Irons in the Fire: Having that list of people to explore and browse in front of you will keep reminding you that the person you are currently dating is only one of many fish. This should help you take it slow, because you have visual proof that person is not your last chance and maybe a few more interesting emails to respond to before you get serious.

Warning Signs:

I’m really good at reading warning signs in profiles. Allow me to demonstrate:

Anyone who spends a good portion of the profile telling you what they don’t want has a big ol flag on them- they’re not over the trauma life or the past relationship inflicted on them. Be particularly wary of any titles reading  “NO DRAMA” or “NO GAMES”.

Samples of this include the following (thanks craiglist)
 “And no, i won't help you with your acting career.”
“I'm NOT looking for a bootycall....or to be your 'sugardaddy'...or your 'benefactor'. Please don't even bother if this is you. I guess I just don't meet the right girls anymore.” “just can't seem to meet a nice, normal girl that isn't all stupid LA trendy.”
“im waiting! i know theres one women who feels the same as i do..just tired of trying to date..imnot good at it.i have tried and when i get there on the date? i just wana leave.”

Poor spelling and grammar is a sign too. Unless you are into that. But my feeling is if you can’t be bothered to spell “looking” right in the line where you request a smart woman (“I'm louking a pretty, smart and funny girl”), then how hard are you really trying to impress pretty smart women?

My favorite variant on this one is when someone tries to use a big word they clearly don’t know as in, “allow me to bare my sole here for a moment becuse its a specel gliterinng 1.”

I also don’t go in for the humor that needs explaining. If your person is writing, “haha” after their own jokes, they are clearly the kind of jokes which aren’t very funny, so they’re not so confident that you caught the feeble attempt at humor, and they are trying to make it easy for you. That also suggests they’re a little desperate- to me that says, “Please please please laugh? Someone!? Anyone....please.....I’m soooo alone.....”

I don’t like people who are bossy in their emails. For example (http://losangeles.craigslist.org/wst/m4w/1049371980.html) this guy has so many specifications its like applying to work for the freaking CIA (Although I don’t think the CIA cares if you are asian, redheaded or “a cougar”). And yet, not much detail on why you’d want to jump through hoops for him .

I’m also wary of people who are trying to make you agree with them, like their ad is some kind of argument with you, that you didn’t even know you’d started already (“In my opinion...” “Most people think... but I think....” etc)


Marketing Yourself:

Picture: I suggest the following- try and pick a picture of yourself which is good, but perhaps a little below your absolute best studio picture- you don’t want to compete with your online self. Avoid the drama myspace look- pick one where you are smiling for your cover photo. Add one where you are doing an activity to prove you are a busy cool person. Don’t go back 12 years for a picture. Don’t do the ones where you’ve cropped a head which appears to belongs to a person of your preferred gender out from the picture-it always comes off as either a recent ex or that you sleep around so much you throw your arms around strangers in bars. People browsing you have no clue that was your brother Carl and not your sexy tempestuous ex Carlos, who will surely reclaim you once he realizes his mistake and comes back across the ocean for you.

No drama. Don’t make the warning flag mistakes. Don’t apologize for yourself, whine about how it’s hard to meet people or make unrealistic demands. Start with the assumption that you are a relatively cool person, looking to find a relatively cool person like yourself, and write that person’s profile. Don’t write the profile of the woman who considers herself to always be played by men, or the man who is so lonely all he wants is anyone, someone to cuddle him at night- because the bitter comes through so easy. Say what you’d like with honesty, but don’t get carried away and start describing the exact number of rooms in the old victorian you’d like to renovate after the birth of your first child, or what key you expect the heavenly chorus to sing in when you finally meet the right one.

Don’t be a “winker”. If you like someone just write them a short message. Don’t wink or hotlist or flirt button or cute rate or whatever. Its very middle school-all, “tell your friend to tell them I think they’re cute, but don’t tell them it was me!” You are a grown-up on a website built on words. Use your words.

Don’t agonize. Write a few messages and see what happens. Don’t get invested in any one special profile over the others- this part is the numbers game part. I have a formula for these first messages. They read something like this: “Hey [username]. I like how you look [pretty spiffy/handsome/fun] in that picture where you are [doing that thing they’re doing]. I also enjoy [thing from their profile that you also enjoy]. Did you [question about thing from the profile. Example: read the author you name’s latest book?]. Express an opinion or comment here [I thought the premise was neat]. Anyway, you seem cool. Cheers, [my username or first initial or first name]” I think flattery works very well in the approach as long as it’s friendly and you don’t come off desperate, so keep it short. Let them know you like how they look, and what they said.

Keep your expectations low: Expect like a 1:3 response to sent emails ratio. Again, its a winnowing process, so don’t get discouraged. It’s no reflection on you. Of people you do trade emails with, I’d expect something of a similar ratio of actual dates to people you don’t get to the coffee shop meet up with. Also, don’t trade too many emails and phone calls with someone before meeting them. Have maybe 2 full email exchanges after the initial approach and then maybe one phone conversation, then meet. It’s a shame if you spend a lot of time getting attached and then you show up and there’s no spark whatsoever.

And that’s about it for me. The key I’ve found is to try and reflect yourself and what you are looking for honestly with a bit of a sense of humor around it, and then to accept that you aren’t most people’s cup of tea (just like most people aren’t yours) so it’s going to take a bit of time and effort on your part. Its a hobby, like going yard sale-ing and you should pace yourself accordingly.  Have fun!

Oh man. I’m glad I worked on my online post post tonight, because I’ve forgotten how much I love craigslist personals. Whenever I get depressed I just like to get out there and read them and chuckle and be impressed at the many types of people out there in the world. They’re seriously hilarious and sad and awesome and clever and they’ll make you feel good about your chances of finding a person who likes Monty Python and wears glasses, comparative to that guy who is trying to find a large figured woman smoker who wants to be strangled with pantyhose while stepping in a muddy puddle and only can understand sing language. Just be careful and don’t click on the ones which say things like, “do you find this attractive”? at work, because it’s usually a racy photo.

Me Updates:

Nothing too much going on:

I’ve got to miss yoga tomorrow night which means I’m missing it TWO WEEKS in a row. Oh my beloved yoga guy (C.3), don’t let some other woman walk that block with you to the parking lot after class!! I’m sorry to abandon you with no word, but I’ll be back next week for sure at which point I’m looking forward to your sparkly eyes and sexy voice, and the slow continuation of our flirtship.

I got an email  on the personals site from a guy who was 2 years younger than me, soon to be 3 (happy upcoming birthday me!). I don’t know how I feel about it. I date older for a certain reason, but I date up because I tend to find I get on better with slightly older types, so how can I judge someone else for having the same ambitions? Anyway, so I didn’t shoot him down, but he accidentally sent me my response email back to me instead of his response so I think I’m free of dealing with this issue unless he realizes he didn’t actually send me a real email and corrects it.

I found someone on my personals site that I schmoozed in real life at a work mixer. He hotlisted me! Which is hilarious because he didn’t realize that online me and real me were the same person. Go online me, stealing the men away from real life me you little tramp. Anyway, that was a strange crossover. We’ll see. I’m not sure how I feel about the small pond aspect of dating someone I met a work mixer, but I guess that’s how people used to do things back before the internets. I’m not giving this one a letter for now.

I went on a second date with C.2. We grabbed drinks and talked for so long he was late to hang out with his friend. Then he walked me back to my apartment and we had a confused, “is this a hug or a kiss” moment where we each assumed the wrong one, then reversed, so I just went for the kiss and it was nice. I got tingles and the glasses steamed up. Rrow. He emailed me to say he had a nice time, so I think that means we’re going to go for a third date. Whoot. I do very much like him, the conversation simply clicks with him and I laugh a lot when I talk to him- he’s got a quick easy good-natured humor.

faildate.blogspot.com/2009/02/warning-chapter-14-is-all-graphic.html

Note: TSFW (Totally Safe For Work)

Overly cute name combination aside, I think a lot about dating from a feminist perspective. I worry about the ways that bringing a man into my life could alter my expectations and my behavior. I fear both being too set in my ways to compromise for someone else (and rationalizing my selfishness as a form of empowerment) and of losing myself in someone else only to finally surface after the relationship is over and think, “wow. I stopped doing all the things that make me me for him.”

I’ve swung both of those unhealthy ways at points in my relationships.

So I’ve been thinking one thing which is highly fascinating about being a woman, and being in relationships is that we women are taught to be pretty obsessed with relationships. So much advertising revenue and plot structure revolves around it for us. And I’m not opening the “what came first” can of worms which goes back and forth between nature and nurture to debate whether it’s an inherent biological fact or culturation over many years, I’m just saying every commercial for a vaccumm starts with a kid or husband or pet dashing through the house, while the exasperated martyr follows along behind, rapturous about her swiffer(trademark!).

How do you reward that frazzled lady? Following along with commercial logic, you surprise her with diamonds on the pillow one morning. But I’m not trying to steal Sarah Haskin’s job here, I just see a parallel in these commercials which I’ve observed in the dating world.

Vaccum commercials are about putting up with things which are less than ideal so as not to seem like a jerk. The women in them always shrug and smile as if to say, “What can I expect?! With the divorce rate as high as it is, I can’t possibly risk losing my cool over the fact that he STILL wears muddy boots on the rug!” Jewelry commercials are the reward. It says, “after all that shit she put up with silently, doesn’t she deserve a big payoff? Do it in a big one time thing and then you can go back to muddy feet on the rug!” To women it says, “if you play your cards right, you won’t even have to ask for things. Someone will just take care of you, and give you what you want as a surprise.”

Here’s the issue as it relates to dating. Pretending to be cool is a time honored tradition among women. We’re scared to be that nagging, shrew or bottomless pit of commitment that every TV show says we are bound to become. We watch our every move thinking, “is it too soon to say this? Perhaps I should leave the phone to ring for another day. If he really likes me, he’ll call first.” We want there to be rules, things we can do, dating diets we can suffer through in order to prove we’re worthy. I wish there were a magic formula- the right number of dates to wait to sleep with someone, the right number of months before you say I love you, the right number of hours to wait to call someone back that would 100% success you up.

I have a friend who has been in a relationship for half a year now. She loves her boyfriend, but she’s scared to say it. She’s afraid he won’t say it back. She wants more than what they have right now, but again, she’s worried to say that stuff, because what if he doesn’t feel the same way? Meanwhile she’s reading into his phrasing, and feeling like she needs extra reassurance...all while carefully dancing around the reassurance to avoid saying anything which sounds too desperate. I know exactly what that is like because I’ve been there and done that too and I feel deeply for her as she faces up to those worries and wish her more luck on the other side of that than I’ve had.

Men have been hearing for years that women are manipulative little traps- all we want is rings and babies. Meanwhile we women have been hearing for years that men are big weenies desperate to do anything to get out of having babies and buying rings. It’s a stalemate, because we tend not to be able to do without each other if we’re hetero, but we have years and years of mistrust between us, and resolves to do things differently this time. So we pretend not to be hurt or not to want more or less or do a thousand tiny dishonest things (pretending to really like, and even prefer brown rice with my hippie college boyfriend comes to mind. Oh the shame!). We try to show ourselves in the best light, be someone we aren’t. And like all dieting, eventually it probably will lead to a big emotional binge.

This time around I’m trying to do it differently. I’m trying to let people know clearly and politely how I feel. I’m also trying to assess how I feel against what society says I should be feeling and test it for truth. Being in an openly non-exclusive relationship? It shouldn’t work says most of society...but yet I have a good friend who is also a bed partner with whom I’ve clearly discussed our ground rules and I have to be honest with you, that practical and very carefully worded discussion was one of the nicest things that’s ever taken place between myself and a male of our species. The mutual respect lever went off the charts during that talk, and we’ve been making it work since- with those careful ground rules to help navigate past potential hurt feelings.

There is a wistfulness l felt in leaving behind the expectation that a relationship will work without me having to tell the other person exactly what I want. I mean, I want to have connections so eerily close that I feel like the other person is a mind reader who surprises me with the right kind of flowers and chocolates. But at the end of the day no one reads your mind perfectly, no one feels the complex stew of constantly changing thoughts and feelings you feel, and thusly no one knows what’s up with you unless you work to be a transparent person. It takes a lot of guts saying, “Okay hi. This is me. What I’m really like, flaws and all.” It takes even more courage to look at the person, and admit to that they’re the same kind of person as I am-not better at life living, or worse, and they’re flawed too- they’re not going to sweep in and fix everything in my life that I dislike, or suddenly be transformed because of my love. The process of saying goodbye to those expectations can be like a bad break-up in it’s own way.

Being honest is a risk, and I’ve gotten turned down. Read back through the blog folks. Some people haven’t called me back, and it hurts my ego at least a little to know that I’m not so endlessly fascinating that I’m every man’s type. On the other hand, with some of those people I played the game, and was on my good girl behavior, so empirically speaking, neither the honestly method or the “we have rules!” method has a killer success rate, so at least this way I don’t have to pretend to be someone who likes washing dishes and keeps her apartment clean. Because I don’t, okay? Neat people strike me as people who don’t have enough fun things to do. But that’s another rant for another day.

Short update. A and I did VD together. He bought me a robot balloon, I cooked him a nice dinner, we lit candles put on funky music and then there were fireworks. Seriously! Right outside his apartment (I wonder what kind of kooky city pays for Valentine's fireworks?). A got silly on wine and we had a nice time. Nice time being a euphemism for very nice time. I realized after the fact that I was awfully glad not to spend another commercial holiday alone the way I spent New Years so I don't get a reputation as the holiday hater I truly am.

Also, someone sent me a message on the personals site, saying that he knows I go for older dudes but he wanted to send me a message anyway. I don't know about this... 3 years younger feels shockingly young when I have gone all the way up to the over 12 years older types and not really felt out of my depth, but I give him props for courage or desperation and the grammar was consistent, so I did write back. Stay tuned- perhaps this will become a hilarious date story.

Also, no yoga this week! I have a night work thing tomorrow. It crushes me with sadness. Yoga guy gets me through my week. His eyes just sparkle so nicely. I get a serious pheremones high off of him. I wonder if I should bite the bullet and ask him out or if I should accept that this tidal wave of lust and like is a beautiful thing not to be disturbed by the inevitable inferior reality which would become glaringly obvious if we ever had an uninterrupted conversation of greater than 5 minutes. On the other hand, I hate signs at stores which say "please don't touch."

Part 1: A.3

I went on a second date with A.3 last Sunday. We ate dinner, then had drinks then he walked me back to my apartment building and I said goodnight. Then he kissed me- a kiss which took me a bit by surprise- I think I’ve had more physical contact/lack of personal bubbles with some of my coworkers than I had with A.3 prior to him zooming in for the kiss.

So we said goodnight. And I walked in the door of my house and put down my purse and touched my lips and realized....I felt NOTHING. Not happy, not sad, not amused, not anything. Most decidedly I did not feel romancified or twitterpated or starry eyed. I felt mostly mad at myself that a perfectly sweet, clearly not emotionally damaged, EMPLOYED (a new concept for me- it’s usually grad students and world travelers), attractive, tall man, wasn’t my cup of tea. Come on brain! He’s so good on paper.

So I agonized for the next two days. I agonized over whether you give someone a chance to grow on you, or if you hold out for fireworks and zazz. My informal survey tells me that people are pretty divided on this one. The philosophy seemed to vary between, “life is short” and “you have time, can it hurt to see if it’s an acquired taste?” As some of my very favorite tastes in life are acquired (Why yes, beer, blue cheese, and tomatoes I am looking at you!) I agreed in principle with the idea that feelings might grow given a chance for less awkward kissing and as I got to know A.3 more.

Then A.3 called me on Tuesday night. I didn’t pick up, and let it go to voicemail, in which he left a kind message and I realized, I didn’t even really want to hear his voice. It’s a perfectly nice voice of course, but it means nothing to me, and I don’t want it to.

The next bit of agony was in whether or not you should tell someone you don’t want to see them again. Opinions were mixed. Some people are of the mind that it’s not like that conversation goes anywhere that can possibly feel good to the other person (hey! I’m not into you!) so why say it? Others felt that it was cruel- a way of prolonging hope, making that person think, “oh maybe she DID like me too, but she got hit by a bus and is in coma? Maybe she’ll call tomorrow...did I do something wrong?”  A lot of time was spent on whether or not the act of kissing, the act of second dating created a reasonable level of reply.

My brain agreed with the principle that there is no good that comes of talking things over in a long drawn out way- that no message is usually always a loud and clear message one you should respect. Its the rule I play by, although I reserve the right to have angry rebuttal time while I’m cooking (I say, “Remember when you said that we had a love worth keeping? What about how you threw it away, jackass? Huh?! I guess you also never won Captain of the Truth Team you dweeb.” Then I savagely chop vegetables  with a big knife until I feel better and have made my anger into something delicious. Sometimes you need to go back and revisit an old hurt to get through the butternut squash dicing- squash has a tough skin that needs the extra force of anger.)  But my heart recognized the wisdom of what some of my friends said, which is they know people who hurt because they thought they had a nice time and then never got a call back and it was the not knowing which bothered them the most.

So I emailed him through the personals site today, apologizing for the rudeness and cowardliness of not returning his call, and telling him that despite himself, I didn’t feel it, whatever it was meant to be and wished him all the luck in the world finding a wonderful person that he deserves.

Part II: I Am In Love With The Absence Of Love

I have a bit of an obsessive crush on C.3, the guy in my yoga class. What I love about our non relationship is that I learn very small details about him over a long period of time, and thus far I don’t know him pretty much at all, so I have yet to learn that he’s a jerk. And he holds up his end of the bargain by being handsome, and friendly and letting slip non specific life details like that he had a busy week or that he works with kids. This week was a complete score- I suspect he waited for me outside the locker rooms just so we could walk the one block that our paths are the same direction. Because I change, and he doesn’t after class, so I know he should have beat me and have already been leaving, but he was waiting on a bench by the door, “checking his phone.” We walked outside, traded some chitchat about the weather then said goodnight.

I wish my hair looked better after yoga class. On the other hand, I don’t want to get tempted- imagine if it didn’t work out- we’d have to awkwardly say hi in yoga class every week- terrible!

Anyway, I feel more internally swoony about this light flirtation that isn’t going anywhere or doing anything than I did about A.3, which makes me very glad I held out and didn’t waste his time. And when i think back on all the people I’ve dated or loved or had mad crushes on, I realize I always had the starry eyes for some portion of the early days- a point where I thought about each moment as crystallized in time- remembered certain gestures or looks or phrases as if they were somehow more special than anything else.

Dating is hard. There are a lot of minefields, waiting to trip you up and attack your self-esteem or your courage. This weekend is a mini break. A is deep in the throes of his dissertation and I haven’t heard from my other prospects and I think that I want to pause and try and savor this cold weather- its rare in LA that you get to huddle under a blanket and listen to the rain falling. I would like to go to the record store, and get a haircut and start my apartment hunt and maybe see some friends, but that’s it for me and the big valentines weekend. Cheers mates.