He said/She said

Here is the gist of an actual exchange, with some questionable grammar and terrible attempts at humor (his, not mine) removed.

Boy: Want to meet at a comedy club in DC sometime?

Girl: I don’t really drive into DC at all. Do you have any ideas for activities outside of DC?

Boy: Oh I don’t drive, I take the metro.

Girl: …

Need I tell you I never emailed again? I realize I used the word “drive”, but I also carefully asked if we could plan an activity not in DC. (I deliberately left that open for him so he could have the freedom to choose something else he might enjoy.) He absolutely refuses to acknowledge that. Therefore I absolutely refuse to go out with him.

Moral of the story: Attempting to bend someone to your will when trying to arrange a first date will result in no date at all.

New Dating Rule!

I have a new dating rule. That’s right, even seasoned One Date Wonders can learn new tricks of the trade. But after some personal experience and careful analysis of conversations with other women, I have developed this new important dating tenet: Once you have broken up with someone, DO NOT EVER GO BACK!

It doesn’t matter who did the breaking up. It doesn’t matter why. Once it’s over, it’s over. Walk away. Don’t look back. And for the love of Pete, do not make excuses. Do not foster illusions. Do not create little fantasies in your head about how you really can live happily ever after. It happened for a reason. Accept that and walk away. Trust me, this is the only way to retain sanity.

How did I learn this lovely little lesson? Well, you’d think the second divorce would have taught me. We had been engaged, broken it off, then got re-engaged and married. Clearly that did not end well. But no… that apparently was not sufficient. What it took to teach me this lesson once and for all was that combined with…… zombie guy.

That’s right, zombie guy. He broke it off once and I didn’t let it go. I poked it until he came back around. I held onto him. I had little fantasies about what a fun time we could have. I may have, at one point, envisioned tiny little zombies of my own. That is, right up until Sunday morning when he started to tell me all about this girl he’s been seeing and how he really likes her. I cut him off and killed the conversation. I think we both understood the problem after a moment. He apologized. So did I. We haven’t spoken since.

Am I happy? No. will I be okay? Yes. Do I have visions of future sleepovers with him? Not really. I’ve wised up. I’m walking away. No more zombie guy. Just simply….. no more. I am killing this undead chapter of my dating life once and for all.

(I just wish it didn’t sting like this. Because we barely knew each other. And yet…. this one burns just a little.)

So let me reiterate this all important lesson one more time. Because at some point in any single gal’s life, we will all contemplate the validity of this rule. We will all flirt with breaking it. Most of us even will. But it will not end well… in fact most horrible break up stories start when you get back together with your ex. So seriously. Just don’t.

Cradle Robber

Time to lighten up.

The last email I got on an online dating site? Was from a 19 year old. I am 30. What was he thinking? How could I seriously date a guy who couldn’t go out for a drink with me?

My guess is he was angling for beer. But whatever.

If it sounds to good to be true…

…it usually is.

Apparently what Mr. Big meant to say last night was “I don’t want anything to change right now, but I haven’t ruled out the possibility of a relationship in the future”. Which, to me, has vague undertones of “don’t leave me just yet, ok?”.

So, you know, false alarm. Nothing to see here. Move along folks.

We were on a break!

On Monday, I told Mr.Big I needed a break. This kind of conversation is always interesting with him because invariably a few things happen. First, he wants to know if I’m replacing him with someone else. Now, since we’re not actually dating, he means in the bedroom. I told him no, I just needed some time off.

Next he wants to know if I need to talk. Of course I need to talk. I’m all messed up in the head because boys are weird. But somehow I’m thinking Mr.Big is not exactly the right outlet for my frustrations. I am almost painfully honest with him always, and this is no exception. I tell him I don’t want to talk to him about this. He presses one notch further. And let me qualify that by saying that he doesn’t press because he’s nosey. And he doesn’t press for gossip. He presses because somewhere in his anti-relationship head, he truly cares on some level. Maybe not the level I wish he did (Okay who am I kidding? Definitely not.), but he cares. In his own way. So he presses by reminding me that he cares about me and I can talk to him. And I reiterate that there are some things I simply cannot discuss with him and this is falling into that category.

Mr.Big is many things, for sure. But stupid has never been one of them. With that he stops pushing and changes the subject completely. What he does not do, and what I now do not have the heart to ask him to do, is go away.

Tuesday comes and he emails me. I vent about work, he presses for more information. I dodge. He presses again asking simply if I’m giving him a stock answer to make him go away. I tell him no and we talk about it. As always, he exhibits a great amount of intelligence and care and gives thoughtful advice. I apologize for my slightly crazed dumping on him. He tells me if that is my idea of slightly crazed, then I should go give lessons to other women as it was nothing at all. And again, I wonder why I am not good enough for a relationship. But I do not press. I don’t even mention it. I let the email thread drop and go about my life, thinking my break is coming.

But no. It’s like in telling him I was pulling away a bit, he pulls closer to make sure I’m not leaving. Every time he feels me slip, he dances in. With attention, and dates, and caring. Last month when I he did it was dazzled. I pulled him closer and pretended it meant something.

But it doesn’t. It means nothing. It merely means he likes my body and the bedroom antics are good. It means he’s getting some regularly and he doesn’t want it to go away. I mean, sure he cares. I’m not an empty shell to him. But him pulling closer will never make me his girlfriend. It will ever let me into his apartment, or out to meet his friends, or casually mentioned by name in a conversation with his family. It will never make me anything more than I am right now. Which is fun, but will never go any further than this.

Today I needed to write that out to reinforce it. I can’t afford to get more stars in my eyes over this. It will never be anything more. Not ever. I know that. So why does writing it out like that feel so bad?

At a loss

You know, funny thing about the undead. They sort of never…. die. Hence the name, undead, of course. Of course if you text message them to say you miss talking to them, that is likely to encourage their undead tendencies, I’ll admit. But still, they don’t have to answer, you know?

What does this mean? It means that even a savvy One Date Wonder does not always operate with the greatest of intelligence. It means I was the one who sent that text message, and I sent it to the zombie guy. And it means he answered. Yesterday I went over to his place for lunch.

There was no hug hello at the door, there was really no touching at all. I was trying to decide he just wanted to be friends as I ate my pizza and pretended to care about whatever he put on tv. He told me all about how April is going to be romance free for him. No dating, no sex, no romantic thoughts at all until May. Effective immediately. I finished my pizza and put down my plate. Then he kissed me.

It was not a friendly kiss. It was hands in my hair, knee-melting, full on kissing. It definitely required romantic thoughts of some variety. He told me he was breaking his rule. We kissed some more. He didn’t seem to mind so much.

Before I left he decided he’d still take his April break. I don’t know what that means or what I should do. In fact, I’m completely at a loss.

Spot the reason

How NOT to get a date

Let me start this off with a few qualifying statements. I am a-okay with thinking outside the box. Creative types are fine by me. Not necessarily following a traditional career path in a perfectly straight line is wholly acceptable. Now that that’s out of the way, let me tell you a few ways you will most certainly never get a date.

Whining about your job.- Let me clarify here. Imagine we’ve never met. We’ve exchanged a few emails and now we are into IMing. You are clearly attempting to get a date as you are going to follow up this particular conversation by asking me out this weekend. But this conversation… this conversation is all about how you got screwed over at work. And how you want a new job. Now. I don’t know you. You’re supposed to be making me like you. And this is what you choose? Smooth move bud. Except not.

Whining about my job. – I have a job that is easy to make fun of. It’s true. There are all kinds of jokes out there about pointless bureaucracy in my line of work. And all kinds of stereotypes about lazy people there too. But to flat out tell me all of this when attempting to get me to go out with you? This behavior will not earn you a date. Jokes about your taxpayer dollars at work? Not funny. Asking me how I can stand it? Also un-amusing. If you can’t keep a lid on that crap, we aren’t going anywhere bud. And what’s worse, you have made me instantly regret my hesitant date acceptance a few minutes ago.

Living with your parents. - I’m sorry. I really am. I want to be open minded. I want to be understanding about the economy and bills and alternative career paths. But seriously, at this age you need your own pad. It doesn’t have to be impressive or huge or in the most uppity neighborhood. You can even have a roommate or two! Just so long as they aren’t named Mom and Dad. Because there is nothing less hot than waking up in someone’s place and saying hello to their mommy on the way to the bathroom. That’s all I’m saying.

Sometimes you just have to wonder what some people are thinking.

So we hope

You what what the worst thing is? When you know something in advance, see it coming, and still let it happen. When you stare a situation in the eye and know it will end badly, but you still don’t get out. When you make the stupid mistake anyway. And why did you do it? Hope. Hope is the most damning emotion and a One Date Wonder’s worst enemy every time.

I met a good guy. One who wanted a long term relationship. One who spent the night. One who was very very different from me and what I usually look for. So I hoped. I hoped that opposites could complement each other. That I’d at least have the chance to find out. That dating is not always a laundry list of desirable qualities but more individuals meeting and meshing. I hoped that this good guy who spent the night might be something to hold onto.

Every good One Date Wonder knows that hope like that only leads to sadness. And so it was. First there was a fight that probably neither one of us could explain. He asked a question, I gave an answer that hit him wrong, suddenly he was grabbing his shoes and heading for the door. He yelled, I retreated. He shut the door behind him. I locked it, sat down, and cried. Not because I was so head over heels for him. Not because my heart was broken. Not because he was the love of my life. But because he was the first time I’d dared to hope in quite some time. And all it turned out to be was a reminder of why hope is the enemy.

The zombie guy is gone. He called tonight. He didn’t want me to feel bad. He didn’t know what the right thing to do was, but he was trying to do it. We are two very different people. He doesn’t know how that will work out in the long run. The truth is, he’s right. I know he’s right. I knew it before the first date. But he was funny, and charming, and sweet. So I set it aside and hoped. And today I remember why that is the wrong thing to do. But what is the alternative?

So we hope. We hope that there is something out there. We hope with each date that we may have found what we are looking for. We hope because if we give up hope, there is nothing left. No dates, no happily ever after, none of it. So we hope.

Dilemma of the Undead

Well, I figure I owe you all an update. The truth is, I’ve been avoiding this because I don’t know what to say. My redheaded zombie guy was a great date. We went out to a nice place in the city where he made sure I had a place to park. It was BYOB so he brought a nice bottle of wine to go with the meal. He totally picked up the check.

After we left there, we went to his part of town (where he again had a lot for me to park in) and sat in his local bar for a while. Despite all the crazy noise and other distractions, he held my hand and talked to me while we nursed our beers. We went out into the street for a walk, and he kissed me. Not only did he buy dinner, the wine, and then the beer… but he was a rather fabulous kisser. You know how kissing is not all about the mouth mechanics, right? (Hint… it’s totally not.) He knew too. His hands were cupping my face, his fingers running through my hair…. yeah. It was hot. All of this on the side streets in the city. I hardly knew what to do.

Here’s the thing. He’s a hipster kind of dude. You know the type. A software developer for a startup in town. Living in an old townhouse with two other guys. A mattress on the floor kind of dude. He doesn’t do well with rules and wears Buddy Holly glasses. He has a soul patch. He’s an atheist and a vegetarian. I am a yuppie sort of girl. I have an upscale brand new apartment. Everything in my place is decorated just so. I have cleaning people. I have a job with a huge entity in IT. I drive everywhere. I was raised in the suburbs. I eat meat and believe in god.

He always has me feeling slightly off balance. Just ever so slightly confused. Not completely sure if he’s really into me. Then he’ll say something sweet, or hold me, or tangle his hands in my hair again and I forget about it. I’ve been out of town this week and he’s called me every night. And we’ve only really been on two dates.

Normally I’d shrug it off and keep on going. But, you see, there’s the (not so) tiny matter of Mr.Big. Right. Oh shit. That right there is another post entirely.