Playing With Matches

What started as a means of chronicling the online dating experiences of two picky yet adventurous almost thirty somethings has turned into a chronicle of all that is, was and has made up their collective dating histories. Our two original daters are now joined by several other fun, breezy, sassy gals, and Playing With Matches is now a missive on dating misadventures, a cacophony of ups and downs, turmoil and bliss. With a bit of snark mixed in here and there.

Saturday, September 30, 2006

Wild and Crazy Saturday Night

Tonight, RD and I found ourselves dateless. Yes, yes, I know. It's hard to believe. However, never thwarted by a lack of a Saturday night date, RD and I decided to have some fun. And so we traveled to a college campus in a distant suburb. Yes, there we were -- two attractive, intelligent, funny gals in our [very] late twenties ready for adventure. Okay, so as RD has already disclosed said adventure was a reading being given by the author of our most recent bookclub book. But, I digress.

We drove onto campus and negotiated ourselves to the parking deck. We realized that we were almost completely sans cash. This is a bit embarassing as we are both professional women who do pretty well for ourselves. Thankfully, the nice people at the parking garage waved us through.

Once parked (okay so actually it took RD two times to successfully park the car, but as I too am a horrible parker, I cannot make fun of her), we had two missions. The first was to locate the theatre where our author would be giving her reading. The second mission was to locate an ATM so that we could remit payment to the parking staff. We accomplished the first mission with relative ease (despite very poor signage on the part of the sponsoring university). Locating the ATM, however, was a bit more complicated.

Now, in our defense, RD and I are quite intelligent. We both have post-graduate degrees from excellent schools. We are well read and well spoken. But, we are frequently challenged by tasks such as locating an ATM. This evening proved to be no exception. We located the student union where we were informed two ATMS were located. ATM #1 was being serviced. ATM #2 was for a credit bureau and would not accept our ATM cards. RD then observed an "Information Desk" in the distance. Perfect. We approached. There were two young men standing at computers behind the desk. We waited for them to assist. As we were waiting, one of them said, "No man, they are Russian chics." "Russian chics?" the other inquired. "They're like thirteen or something." One of the young men motioned for the other to look at his computer screen. We could see photos of women on said screen. Clearly they were discussing some sort of mail order bride website. Very helpful. It was then that I realized that these young men were not actually Information Desk employees. Rather, they were random students using the computers next to said desk. RD and I escaped quickly to find the real Information attendant who directed us to another building and ultimately, twenty minutes later, another ATM. (We will leave out the part where RD left her ATM card in the ATM and was chased down by a student who returned said card).

The reading wasn't great. But, hey, now we are "cool" and "cultured." This will impress all those intellectual types we are seeking to date. Now, it was time to eat.

RD has already alluded to the issue with the reservation. It became clear that our initial venue was no longer an option. En route to a nice, Italian place, we passed what can truly be categorized as a dive. RD said she'd been there before. Somehow, we found ourselves making illegal U-turns and parking in said dive's parking lot. You won't find this one in the little maroon book, readers. With the exception of an elderly couple with a little girl, we were the only patrons in said establishment. We amused ourselves with the juke box and selected tunes ranging from Britney to Johnny Cash. We ordered hot turkey sandwiches and mashed potatoes. We ate really bad pumpkin pie. Our "waiter" completely ignored us all night, despite the fact we were the only effing people there.

As we left the dive and went back out into the autumn night, I observed a sign over the counter that read,"Once you have ordered, please do not change seats." Um, is this such a persistant problem that they need a sign to discourage this practice? I haven't a clue. We also noted the dive is an historic landmark. Impressive.

So dear readers, you see we do not "need" to have men to have a good time. Sure, much of our conversation was dedicated to the men in our lives, or those who have been in our lives, or those we want to be in our lives. But, we also talked about books, our crazy families (mainly in the context of how they react to the men we date)...and, well...okay fine, so we talked a lot about boys. But, we also laughed a lot and ate food that will make exercise tomorrow obligatory. And that, dear readers, is the perfect Saturday evening.

The Omen.

Two cute and youthful looking coeds walk onto a local college campus, thoughts of Saturday night fun running through their respective heads.

Okay, so it was nerdy fun. And the coeds are *cough* more than six years out of college (but, in their defense, could pass for college students...though the boys they saw walking around campus were, well, boys).

After attending a reading by the author of their last book club book, the girls walked to their car and called ahead to the restaurant where they had planned all week to have dinner. RD made a reservation and was then given what the hostess so nicely and innocently called the "confirmation code."

November 14.

Um, excuse me? Yes, November 14. That would just happen to be the birthday of The Asshole (aka Him). You know the one...the pre-RCB "man" who it took a year (almost to the day) to fully get over (though sometimes it sure seems like she thinks about him too much to fully be over him. But she is. Really.).

RD looked at Objection and said, "um, can we go somewhere else? Our check in code is November 14." Immediately recognizing the [in]significance, Objection quickly agreed.

Drastic? Perhaps. Necessary, absolutely. Seriously, the powers that be are trying to tell me something this week.

So I was on a mission...

and it might not have been the correct mission. The right ideas were there but last night ended up translating into RJ getting some action. After a self-imposed celibacy period, I entered the dating-with-purpose scene in grand style. Though not really. He is/was younger. He wants more., I've already received the i'll-wait-til-noon-and-make-sure-she's-up-and-around phone call...though it was silly. It was one of those "what are you doing today?" conversations where the girl says nothing really and the guy can't quite get up the nerve to ask her out. I don't think I want more.

As I posted yesterday I AM TIRED OF MY MEASURING STICK. I will get rid of it.

My Week In Review

Hello everyone, Objection here with a recap of her week in single status.

1. Earlier this week, I received an e-mail from none other than EE. Yup, almost two and a half weeks after the breakup, he reinitiated correspondence. Not satisfied with a mere, "Hey, what's up" kind of e-mail (which honestly would have been the only really appropriate way to reinitate conversation), EE tried a different approach. In said e-mail he, among other things, admitted that he'd been in the building where my office is located earlier this week on other business. He thought this would be a good opportunity to stop by (I wasn't around). Um, okay. He NEVER stopped by my office when we were dating. How is this okay now? Especially after not corresponding for almost three weeks. Thanks for playing EE.

2. I have been corresponding with a young man whom I met on one of my new Internet dating websites of choice. I'm quite enjoying this. Of course, we have no idea if this is going anywhere. I am hopeful that we'll eventually decide to meet up because I find him to be quite interesting. However, it's always hard to gage interest on-line. We shall see.

3. I received a profile from the other Internet dating service of choice from an attractive guy. We shared some common interests etc. I was very interested until I noticed three things (1) he shares the same profession as my ex...and this is a profession that allows one lots of access to hot, young co-eds and as such I avoid it like the plague (2) he has children (3) he lives at the ends of the earth (translation outside the Beltway). Trifecta.

4. No correspondence from FWB at all. I am giving up hope. It's odd, because we've maintained pretty steady correspondence for almost a year. It's all about timing my friends.

5. I finally wrote a response to EE. RD edited. I sort of freaked out a little bit as I was within 2 blocks of his office yesterday for a meeting. Walking around on the lunch break, I was sure I would run into him. Crisis avoided, thankfully.

6. I just received a communication from another on-line guy. Um, when you post pictures do NOT post pictures with you and your ex. The caption actually said "My ex." No, not okay. Not remotely. You are obviously not over her.

Thus concludes another exciting week here as a single gal. More to come.

Friday, September 29, 2006

I am Afraid.

It's true. This unlucky in love gal is only unlucky because she chooses to be...

I have been watching the Wedding Date a lot recently and it has creeped into my pshyche and caused me to analyze my own life...not so pretty. The dad talks about this theory that every woman's love life is exactly what she wants. UM WHAT? Do I seriously want bad dates and/or no dates for extended periods of time in which I then just pick one of my dates to be a semi-on-the-path-to-maybe-boyfriend-status (which in RJ terms gives the okay for bedsport) randomly without really paying attention to compatibility. Then act traumatized when it ends (because RJ does like to be dramatic at times) when in all actuality I knew it would never go anywhere in the first place...

OMG. I do. It has been what I want.

And I know why now. It took a bottle of wine and a few cigarettes (on the down low...i do not smoke without drink in hand) to come to terms with the reasons behind, for and how I have gone down this path...

4 years ago I fell in love. I did. I couldn't believe it and because I couldn't believe it I left, went about my business. It shortly after fell apart and because I'm RJ and tend to find someone else to heal hurts rather than internalizing the pain and getting through it...I moved on...with a very innappropriate man...one that has been mentioned earlier and had tons of red flags. But if we are honest, red flags is what I wanted, what I needed. Why spend time with someone that could actually lead to something? Then I might get hurt.

He moved on...got a new girl..has been with her since. Would guess it is serious but he refuses to talk to me about her...I learned her name after they were together 2 years from one of his friends.

So it is FOUR years later. We kind of keep in touch. I teased for the first two years that we couldn't seem to break up. I would consciously break contact only for him to call me out of the blue.

This past Christmas I sent a card. It was so childish. I signed it "Always, RJ XOXO". I figured that would end it...we aren't allowed to talk on the phone as the new girl saw my number on recent calls and got angry...i figured the card would finally END it. Cowardly. I know. I still cringe.

Months went by but in July I heard from him. He even linked me to a current picture of him. My stomach got butterflies.

UNACCEPTABLE.

He has been my one I won't let go.

I think it is time I do...

So readers...I am going out tonight with a new mindset. I am open to all men and possibilities. I am going to actually date-with-purpose for the first time in four years. No more looking for filler or playing around with what-ifs.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Who are these horoscope writers? And do they know me??

For the second day in a row I have been amazed at the complete accuracy of my horoscope. Yes, I know that anyone can analyze and/or rationalize any horoscope and make it fit into her life. But these are really OTT, exactly what is going on in my life. Now, I'm not an astrology buff or one who even takes things like this that seriously. But...

You have been rather serious recently and although you continue to feel the intensity of these past weeks, your spirit feels lighter today. Recent issues have not played through, yet now you can see what is happening through a more philosophical lens. Don't talk yourself into a moralistic position merely to avoid the messiness of the situation. There is something to learn by delving into your unresolved feelings.

  1. Serious lately? I most certainly have been. The RCB thing has made me anxious (in a good way, most of the time) and, as the husband of one of my bff's noted on Sunday (post-RCB) "not as spunky as usual." I am definitely thinking about things on a more than "right here, right now" level.
  2. These past three weeks have been nothing short of intense.
  3. My fears and apprehension about the situation and what may or may not be going on ("recent issues") on the sidelines have not come to fruition. In fact, my suspicions are pretty much ill conceived, for the most part. I have realized I am worrying about nothing and have no reason to be doing so, which leads to...
  4. I am looking at this in a whole new light, based on the facts above but also because of the conversation I had with my mother.
  5. Unfortunately, I pretty much already talked myself into a moralistic position to avoid messiness, and there's nothing I can do to change that. However, I am not certain that was a bad position to corner myself into at the time. And that doesn't mean I am married to that position.
  6. Ugh, unresolved feelings galore. If I get the gumption, perhaps I will delve into them. But, I'm really kind of enjoying the fly by the seat of my pants mentality I am trying so hard to embrace.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Now I get it.

I’m a dating blog connoisseur. I read blogs not only because I often have time to do so, but also because I can relate to them.

I now understand why some bloggers (Objection included) shy away from writing about good dating experiences. I think I might want to keep it to myself (and, lbh, I have the same irrational fear that someway, somehow, he will see it).

But I’ll give some scoop, if only to have a written record of this to remind me in the future of my past adventures (and this is so much easier than a handwritten journal).

As you know, I had dinner at RCB’s house on Saturday night. He made a delicious, thought out meal and our evening was filled with food, drink and good conversation. Among the things that impressed me (and there were many) was the fact that he had, on hand, a brand new bottle of my favorite alcohol infused liquid. This was impressive mostly because, though I was with the last ahole for over seven months (and all of our dates consisted of going to a bar), He never knew what I wanted to drink (let alone that I have drinks for the seasons) and always, in fact, ordered me tequila (my nemesis) because He liked it. That narcissism diagnosis is looking more and more accurate.

For the hours (and hours) I was there on Saturday, I was somewhat able to erase from my mind the existence of anyone else in his life. For that time, I was the only female in whom he was interested (and, we’re still just assuming that there are others). He was kind and sweet and entertaining and attentive. And cute.

In discussing the situation with my mother (of all people) she made me realize many things—all of which were amazingly on point and none of which I expected to come from her mouth.

She is very pro-RCB, despite knowing pretty much the entire history of the relationship. Shocking.

But, after Saturday, I’m pretty pro-RCB, too. Let’s hope he’s pro-RD, or on his way to being so.

Friday, September 22, 2006

I could never, EVER be a contestant on The Bachelor.

I think I have a jealousy issue. That may or may not stem from an inadequate view of myself as a dater.

Is it weird that if I’m interested in someone, I don’t want him to be interested in (ie email, talk to, go out with, make out with) any other girl(s) (and by interested I mean looking to date)? Ok, so we’re not exclusive. Hell, we’re not even “dating,” per se. But I still get that feeling in the pit of my stomach knowing that he is communicating with other females. (Note: this is a general "he" not a specific one.)

It’s not like I couldn’t be doing the same—well, communicating with other men, I mean. But I have a problem focusing attention (aka crush energy) on more than one person at a time. I’m a unilateral dater. Hmm, not sure if that even makes sense, but you know what I mean.

The good thing is, this jealousy is never outwardly manifested. In other words, he never knows about it because I hide it (along with other things) quite well. Inside, however, it bothers me. A lot. Thanks to the stalwart girlfriends who have to sit an listen to my farfetched anxieties and my ridiculous gripes.

Despite the opinions of many that I should not, I have a date with RCB tomorrow. I anxiously await (but am hopefully willing away) the barrage of “I told you so”s. As Objection would say, he’s still under BODS (benefit of the doubt status).

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Chemistry 101

So, we all know that I have recently re-entered the world of on-line dating. With a new service of choice selected, I carefully created a profile and prepared myself for e-jection, cheesy e-mailing, and uncomfortable first dates (you know the kind...you arrive first, despite attempts to be late and then realize as you approach the venue (1) that you aren't sure you'll recognize the date upon arrival and (2) that should restaurant staff inquire as to the name in which the table might be reserved, you do not know your date's last name).

I'm going to have to concur a bit with the comments received re: new dating service of choice. I'm receiving a fair number of matches. But, the process is almost painfully slow. I mean, I need a bit of a break from relationship world, but I would like to go on a date or two at some point. Also, once I reach a certain point in communication, I seem to lose guys left and right. Guys seem to hate the short answer portion of the program.

The photo thing hasn't been a problem. I've made mine available right away, and most guys have too. I've also refused to communicate with those guys who do not post photos. Is this shallow? Perhaps. But, hey I've put myself out there. They should too.

Another issue is that I seem to be repeatedly matched with people who are extremely religious. Now, I was raised going to church and still will attend church when I visit my parents. But, I don't wear my faith on my sleeve. It's not the first thing I mention upon meeting someone. Politics and religion are for 4th or 5th dates.

Because I'm somewhat frustrated and annoyed, I've started researching another on-line service...Chemistry.com. Run by the same folks as Match, it follows the model of matching you to others. There's no searching of profiles. So, my question is as follows has anyone out there tried Chemistry?

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

He Broke Up With Me BEFORE the First Date Only He Forgot to Tell Me

As I sit on my couch this evening watching recorded Dancing with the Stars my mind wandered over dates I've gone on recently...which lead to thoughts of dates of past and for some reason THIS DATE popped in my head. It was years ago, in a different city...even a different state...but it ranks up there with one of the best dates that never really happened.

I was so excited. He was coming over for dinner. We had started as friends with a mild flirtation...which turned into a major flirtation...and oh so naughty IMs. But it was the night! My roommate was out of town and the apartment was mine. We talked and confirmed the night before...I had the menu planned perfectly and we were going to watch Four Weddings and A Funeral...one of my favorites...and he was easily conned into agreeing since he had not seen the film. (NO I'm not that age...the movie had been out for years by this point)

He showed...but it was strained. He ate and while conversed was quieter than normal. I chalked it up to nerves as this was the first thing that could be considered a "date". We started the movie half way through the meal (his suggestion) and when it was over he jumped up and said he had to go. I was shocked (devastated) but played breezy and walked him to the door. He gave me a stiff hug and ran down the stairs.

The next day he posted on a website that our mutual friends were part of that prior to "our date" he had received a package from his ex with a ring and asking him to call. He called her and she asked him to marry her. He said yes. He didn't know what to do so he came over for dinner and a movie...oh and by the way sorry RJ.

Would that this had been the end of "us".

Don't worry dear readers, I will fill you in on this saga...it only gets better and the ending is spectacular in a bizarre surreal way.

Monday, September 18, 2006

Back on the Horse

So, less than 2 weeks after the breakup with EE (whose hat I now consider a parting gift -- thanks for the advice Irish Red!), I'm already back on the on-line dating horse. Yup. I joined E-harmony. I must say, this is a completely different experience from the prior Internet dating service of choice.

1. My inbox is not flooded with e-mails from men old enough to be my father; and
2. None of my matches thus far have been pictured sans shirts

More to follow on this exciting adventure...

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Passed Out In an Unmade Bed

My rockstar tendancies came out full force last evening. I rolled into the Ritz about 11am to meet up with my bff and her sister-in-law and was pleasantly surprised that the hotel room was located on the club level which equates a 24 hour changing buffet and access to beer, wine and a RJ favorite CHAMPAGNE! After a little nibble and some bubbly we headed to the "Spa" to lay at what equates to the adult pool. Oh the life.

After my day of decadence...our entourage expanded and we hit the downtown scene in full style. High heels and lots of skin...skin that had been pampered all day long. I felt like a goddess and downtown was my realm. I was the queen of flirtation and witty remarks.

SO from now on, and I recommend this to all, I am going to spend Saturdays before hitting the town at the Ritz spa. I am all about being waited on hand and foot and knowing that almost any request will be granted...even if it's just for a day.

No dates are better than horrible ones?

In today's Washington Post (in Sunday Source, my favorite section), there was a really entertaining article chronicling real life bad dates. Some of these experiences were horrible! Sadly, I could relate to some (having your date bring someone else on the date you were supposed to have with him, getting "stuck" with the bill, bad conversation...).

So, on this Sunday, enjoy. We'll be back with regularly scheduled programming tomorrow.

Saturday, September 16, 2006

A Letter to the Former Object of my Affection

Dear EE,

FYI, I have your hat. Last week, when I was cleaning out my car in an attempt to remove all evidence of you from my life, I found it. You know the one I'm talking about. It's well broken-in and obviously loved. It was in the back, among the wide variety of gum wrappers which you discarded onto the floor of my vehicle with reckless abandon and never removed (despite the fact that my car is basically spotless and that you know I'm a bit of a neat freak). My friends encouraged me to discard said hat in the trash. RD insisted upon it. Yet, dear mom (Emily Post in the flesh) said I should hold onto it. Secretly, I think she's just hoping we'll reconcile (hey she's pretty eager for grandkids). Because I'm nice, I put it in the trunk of my car. If you had attempted to maintain any sort of communication with me, I would have confessed that I had the hat. But, alas, you seem incapeable of doing so. This is probably because you realize you are an idiot. Trust me, I already came to that realization.

Yours, (not any more)
Objection

Friday, September 15, 2006

Attention sports fans.

Who has Reluctant Dater turned into? First it's an entire Monday Night Football game. Then it's an entire day on a golf course. Why the sudden interest in sports? Because men flock to sports. And, now, I know to follow.

Hanging out at sporting events or charity tournaments is an awesome way of putting yourself out there. Much more my speed than the online dating means that were the inspiration for this blog.

Yesterday I volunteered at a company sponsored charity golf tournament. Romance Junkie was right--what a wonderful experience that is. A friend and I were positioned at one hole for the entire day, which allowed us to see all of the players come through. By virtue of my role, I had to talk to them all. Beer, golf and cute girls (and hottie players) makes for a fun day. The fact that RCB was there (and playing exceptionally well) did not make matters worse.

Things that I learned on the links, in no particular order.
  1. RJ was right--beware of the gloved left hand.
  2. The beer cart lady is your friend.
  3. Pick and learn a couple of key phrases and make some "expert" recommendations. If you smile and look cute, they will believe whatever you say.
  4. Men are cocky. If they know you're watching them, they mess up. So, tournament organizers, it's good to put girls on the holes where there are big prizes to be won.
  5. Throwing grass in air to check which way the wind is blowing makes you look really cute.
  6. Cheapskates lose hot points quickly. It's charity, aholes.
  7. Conversely, genoristy is very attractive.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Over It Already?

So, less than a week after the break up, I find that I'm already over it. My appetite is back and I'm sleeping normally. I've already worked on my E-Harmony profile. Yup, I'm back. Tonight, when filling in BFF on the details of the breakup (she was out of town during the melt down of Friday night), I actually found myself laughing at how bad of a love match EE and I were. And, during my conversation with RD this evening, I started to realize that I'm in the "angry" phase. However, I'm not "that" angry because honestly I don't think I was as into EE as I might have thought I was at the time.

While we're on the subject of why EE and I were not a great love match, allow me to point out yet another red flag. RD loves this one. In the five and a half months we dated, I was never allowed to look in his refrigerator. Ever. Does anyone else think this is odd?

I haven't heard from EE and I'm not really sure whether I will. We left as friends, but such things rarely work out. In all honesty, we would probably make much better friends than we would a couple. I did, however, hear from F.W.B. today (admittedly in response to an e-mail I sent to him). Interesting, but dangerous.

And, so back to my old self, I'm ready to face the world as a single gal again. I'm happy to be done with the wallowing. I'm happy that getting over it didn't take that long. I'm tremendously thankful for the support of all of my friends and my family in helping me get through the mourning period. Okay, enough of that. Bring on the adventures.

Note to self:

"'You cannot receive if you cannot forgive'” So, to receive love, you must deal with your past ghosts, forgive your former partner and yourself for whatever roles you played in the demise, and now get on with it."

From msn.com Dating and Personals, Ask Dr. Gilda.

Seems a bit appropros for me these days...

I'm getting on with it!

On football and Tivo.

I'm not really a guys' girl. I won't pretend to be. Sure, I'll sit and watch a golf tournament or a basketball game (preferably college, please) on television if someone I am interested in wants to do so. And I will feign interest (I've been known to even have favorite players and teams). But, on a normal basis, I'd rather watch 90210 or Oprah reruns. It's just who I am.

So that makes last night even more interesting. With no real plans on the plate last night, I accepted an invitation from a couple of my married friends to go over to their place and watch Monday Night Football; my friend C was going, too.

We had a delicious dinner and caught up on all that has been going on in our lives (ie my life, and RCB) and then we headed downstairs, where Tivo had so nicely paused kickoff for us. So we're watching and chatting, chatting and watching, when all of a sudden C turns to me, as I turn to her, and we both say, "OMG OMG OMG, is that Him???"

"Who," the marrieds ask.

"OMG," I replied.

Thanks, Tivo, for allowing us to rewind. And watch in slow motion as we positively identified the jersey wearing, screaming fan as Him.

Slow motion is really slow. Really. Slow. And there he was, before my eyes. While I was "affected" by this whole thing, it was not in a way that I would have expected. I didn't have the urge to pick up the phone and text message him, saying "I just saw you on tv (three times)." I didn't begin composing a sassy, cute email in my head to be sent the next morning.

All I thought was, "Dude, he's probably there by himself or with some random friends," along with "WTF are the chances, seriously?"

And there I sat, with three of the greatest people in the world, doing something I don't like to do, but having, nevertheless, the time of my life.

I think I win. Again.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

36 Hours After the Breakup

I'm not sure how many of you are Gilmore Girls fans, but if you are perhaps you recall the episode when Rory and Dean break up (the first time 'round). Lorelai attempts to encourage Rory to "wallow" for a day or two, but Rory refuses. She tries to fill her Saturday afternoon with lots of errands and then goes to a Chilton party that evening (where she kisses Tristan, but I digress). Finally, she submits and wallows.

Over 36 hours after my most recent breakup, I find myself in an odd state. I'm somewhere between wallowing and filling up my days with ridiculous productive activities. Yesterday, RD and I went to breakfast and then ended up at the mall. RD encouraged retail therapy. Hey, why not. I mean, now that I'm single again, I don't need to buy EE a birthday present next month (not that I really need that justification, because a breakup alone is enough to justify purchasing new Pumas). My appetite isn't what it should be and I'm surviving on cheese and crackers and Coke. Classic post breakup faire for me.

Today, I've been a little OTT. I got up and went running. I haven't gone running since the very early days of the relationship with EE. And, then I came home and started the major baking project which I must complete for a social event next weekend. While baking, I've been watching my DVD of Season 2 of the O.C. No matter how much my life might seem to suck right now, Marissa's sucks more.

I've also been thinking quite a bit about my relationship with EE, my continuing thing for the F.W.B. (which never seems to go away), and what my next steps will be. It's just so effing hard to meet people...despite the fact that I live in a very young, urban, professional kind of environment. I refuse to date co-workers having just made that mistake earlier this winter. But, my job demands long hours, and so there's not a lot of time for extracuriculars. My mom, who you may recall is part Emily Post, part Martha Stewart, and part Talbots model, maintains I need to get back into Internet dating. Of course, she also thinks EE will resurface and she somewhat encourages F.W.B.

So, Internet dating. Hmmm. Can I do it again? I was so lucky the last time around to meet EE within days of starting the whole process -- not sure I'll be so lucky in the future. But, I'm thinking that if I do it, this time I'll be trying out E-Harmony. For one thing, I wasn't impressed by the selection on the prior Internet dating service of choice. And, also, it seems that E-Harmony might be a slower process -- which could be good. This will prevent a fast rebound. It will give me some time to fly solo. And, okay...if I'm perfectly honest with myself, it might give me some more time to figure out the F.W.B. situation...or at the very least attempt AGAIN to get him out of my system.

Despite the fact that I'm still mourning the end of the relationship with EE, I can't help but be excited about the future. As Romance Junkie pointed out, there's a theme of optimism on this blog right now. Maybe I'm crazy. Or maybe, I'm just hoping that he's out there somewhere, waiting to meet me just like I'm waiting to meet him. And, hey, remember after the Dean breakup, Rory eventually met Jess, and he was incredibly hot. See,there's hope Girls -- there's hope.

Saturday, September 09, 2006

LAME

I'm am loving the optimism and openness for new experiences that is coming back to this blog.

Objection has ended one relationship but still looks forward to bad dates and silly men that may or may not come into her life. I"m wondering if she'll once again try to make a "match" of it...

and RD! Two voice messages coming right after a CONFRONTATION. Blows my mind! Soon RD will call this gal from sunny florida (hopefully before GAMEDAY begins) and give her all the scoop.

And now me. If you read this blog often, you may have noticed that I did not update you all on the party last Sunday. In fact, I haven't blogged much in over a week. So I will apologize right now and hopefully be better at blogging from now on. I've actually not had a lot to blog about. The funk prior to the party lingered on...I didn't meet any one at the party...and it was my own fault. There were plenty of single men. But what did I do? I sat in a corner at a table talking to people I already knew...L.A.M.E.

And actually it would have been okay had I woken up Monday morning and the funk was over. BUT NO.

Tuesday I perked up a little when a really good looking man at a meeting (married unfortunately, but eye candy nonetheless) responded to my dress code question with "the shorter the better".

But it took til yesterday for me to FINALLY shake off the funk and become once again a women open to flirtation and lingering glances. Yesterday, at the golf tournament.

Yes readers, i have become one of THOSE women. The kind that aren't happy and do not feel good about themselves and go into a"funk" when they have not received positive male appreciation and/or attention..in what amounted for me about two days.

Ridiculous. When did I become this woman? Have I always been this way?

This is not a pleasant realization.

And then there were two.

My saved voice mail messages now total just two.

When we started this blog six months ago, I had eight saved voice mail messages--seven from Him and one from post-RCB/pre-Him or, as we like to call him, "the asshole."

The deletions started off innocently. One day, I was cheerfully reminded that I had one message marked for deletion. Instead of hitting "9" to save, I hit "7." And then there were seven.

It soon became easier. When weeks went by without any sort of contact from Him, I'd delete one. How I got to just having one left from each of them, I am not certain. But I am proud of myself. Baby steps, but significant ones.

I'm not going to lie. It might have to do with the fact that I am getting attention from other people these days. I know that's the reason I was able to once and for all delete Him from my messenger contact list last week. I don't need to know that he's in the office and ignoring me. And, I don't care.

Regardless of the impetus, it's getting done. Soon I will have a whole slew of new saved messages. I mean, that's the whole point of all of this, isn't it?

Friday, September 08, 2006

Buying the Large Box of Condoms Guarantees Relationship Demise

So, as you can guess from the title of this entry, things did not go well with EE. RD knew things were amiss when she received a phone call on Friday night. The first sign that things were bad was the fact that I called her at 9:46. The second sign of trouble probably came from the fact that I was crying. I managed, however, to not cry until I was in my car, driving home, overnight bag on the front seat (hmmm, kind of like a scene from the season finale of The Office).

The point of this entry, however, is not to make readers feel sad. Nope. Rather, as I have done in the past, I blog to provide a public service announcement. Please be aware of the following red flags, which I noticed during the course of my five and a half month relationship with EE, but have overlooked until now:

1. Three words: selfish in bed

2. Never ever ever tells you that you are cute, or pretty, or beautiful, or attractive (except once in a sort of indirect kind of way) -- now, random men that I've never met before tell me I'm attractive. It happened just the other day. I was walking from one building to another (a frequent route in my day to day life at work) and some random man approached me, said he sees me walking back and forth and thought I was cute...and would like to take me to dinner. Okay, so I said no and thought he was crazy. But, nonetheless, he told me I was cute, one minute after meeting me. What's with this five and a half month moritorium?

3. In five and a half months, he has slept at your place 3 times; you always sleep at his place. This is because he has sleep issues. Of those 3 times, one time he left at 3 a.m. because you woke him up and he couldn't get back to sleep. Another time, he woke YOU up and you took him home at 3 a.m.

4. Doesn't own a wallet (would lose it anyway) or a cell phone (moral objection).

5. Never holds your hand in public.

6. The least ambiguous conservation you ever had regarding the definition of your relationship was the one where you broke up.

Don't get me wrong. I'm still sad. It sucks to spend almost half a year dating someone who then turns out to not be the one. The reason for the breakup is not something I'm going into here, but suffice it to say, I know it's the right decision. So, what positive things do I take from this relationship? Well, it's the longest relationship I've had in quite a while. In addition, one of my earliest dates with EE was undoubtedly the coolest date I've ever had in my life. Ever. It's going to be hard to top that one. Where do I go from here? Well, I'm of course very tempted to contact the old F.W.B. (friend with benefits) who lives out of town and "hang out" with him a bit. RD thinks this is a bad idea. And, she's correct. But, that's not necessarily going to stop me from doing it as I tend to do dumb things frequently when dealing with matters of the heart.

Eventually, I'll get back on the dating horse again. You all will benefit from blogs about awful first dates etc. Actually, this could really result in an increase of blogging material. Hey, a silver lining already. Excellent.

Tees me off!

I made an interesting discovery today. I am not one that spends copious amounts of time on a golf course. In fact, today may have been the first time I've stepped foot on one that wasn't for the purpose of a wedding in over 10 years. So I was surprised at a charity golf tournament to discover: (1) there are very attractive men that play golf (2) that men, golf and beer can be dangerous for young ladies (btw that is almost a direct quote from a golfer to me today) and (3) most men are right handed therefore they wear their glove on their left AND YOU CAN'T TELL IF THEY ARE MARRIED OR NOT.

dangerous.

Following in the Footsteps of RD

Yes, after RD's brave performance of this week, I decided it was time to demonstrate my own "courage" and finally have the long-dreaded talk with dear EE. As EE and I have a date scheduled for tonight, I decided this would be the perfect time for such a discussion. This morning, I e-mailed RD a script of what I planned to say. LBH, despite my attempts to have similar convos in the past, I've yet to be successful. So, even as I drafted my script for RD's review, I was pretty doubtful that the words would ever make it to the ears of EE. The theme of this script was the basic "where do we see this going" motif.

Yet, RD came to my rescue, yet again. After reviewing the script, and declaring it "awesome," she suggested that perhaps I send it in e-mail form to EE today with an intro paragraph stating that I wanted to discuss this further tonight. Hmmmm, I thought, that might be just crazy enough to work. So, after editing the text and drafting the intro paragraph, I awaited his next e-mail with bated breath. Unlike my usual reaction when I see an e-mail pop up from EE in my inbox (Yay!), this time, the sight of the envelope with a flash of light behind it (thanks Yahoo), caused heart palpitations, a dry mouth, and a whole lot of other symptoms of anxiety. Gulp. Time to send my e-mail (of course, I waited a while before responding to give the illusion that I was drafting said response...yeah, I'm smart like that).

And, so eventually, I pressed the old send button and off went the e-mail. I waited as my future sat in an inbox. Finally, his reply. Now, if his earlier e-mail caused anxiety, you can only imagine what the second e-mail caused. I couldn't even open it at first. It was like the day you get your college acceptance letters; you want to open that envelope so badly, but it's so effing scary.

Finally, I got up the nerve to open it. His response was brief, but breezy and cute. We are apparently discussing tonight. Okay. Great. Can't effing wait.

So, here I sit, in my perfect little apartment awaiting my fate. My outfit was selected with care. It says, I'm cute, but I'm not trying too hard to be so (again, thanks RD). The minutes are ticking by, and I cannot decide if I want to leave or not. I know ultimately that I have no choice. First of all, not showing up at all would be rude. Secondly, it's not an option. I need to know the answer to my question, even if it's not what I want to hear. So, I'll post this blog and head out the door. Update to follow, obviously.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Balls out.

I am a bad ass. Yesterday, I confronted (in my own RD kind of way) RCB about everything. All that I knew and all that I suspected was admitted to and, thus, confirmed.

And he told the truth. And apologized. A lot.

Two of my very good friends convinced me to do it, saying I had nothing to lose. They were right, but it took more prodding than I thought. Lots of deep breaths. Accelerated heart rate (who needed a cardio workout after all of that?). Lots of bravery.

Oddly enough, while I wasn't attempting to be overly bitchy in our correspondences yesterday, he sensed I was upset. What I thought would be perceived as flirty banter (much to my dismay and in defiance of my intent) was actually seen for what it was: anger. At one point he just, out of the blue, said he was sorry. I played dumb and asked what he was sorry about. That turned into a two hour discussion.

All I ever wanted was an acknowledgement and an apology. I got both. And then some. I honestly felt like a gigantic, two year old weight was lifted off of my shoulders. Much of what he said correlated almost exactly with what I knew (that he didn't know I knew). The nature of our conversation was so quick that he didn't have time to think about his responses or concoct stories to make himself look better. All the pieces came together.

I’m not saying I’m ready to marry him. Or even date him. But I am saying that I have forgiven him. I don’t hate him. But I won’t forget any time soon, either.

Monday, September 04, 2006

Tick, tick, tick.

Another great weekend with EE. Excellent.

I decided a while ago that EE and I are in a strange phase of our relationship right now. I know concretely that we are seeing each other exclusively. We see each other multiple times per week. I'm very happy with where we are. But, of course, the question still remains...where are we going? And, despite the hours spent together this weekend, I couldn't bring myself to ask or inquire. Again, how does one bring such a thing into a conversation?

In reflecting on the weekend, as I watch the marathon of my favorite t.v. show of all time which my dear TIVO recorded in my absence, I realize that there were a few moments this weekend when I fell a little further. I'm still fighting it. I can feel myself resisting. Because, LBH, it's too scary to fall when you don't have a clue as to whether the other party is falling, too. Thus, I resist.

But, when he holds you close and rubs your back in the morning...or when he's itemizing lists of his favorite moments of the weekend...or when you realize how very much like your father he is...well, it gets a little bit harder.

And the deadline keeps getting closer.

I've been thinking.

…about what happened the other night and all of the “I should’ve known” repercussions. The unbelievable story has been told ad nauseam (because it’s just so good). I have heard countless “No way,” numerous “I’m not surprised,” several “are you effing kidding me” and more just plain old incredulous gasps than I can count.

I know everything about the situation is wrong (nothing about being with him was ever right), no matter what his original intent was in getting in touch with me after so long (I can assure you his motives were as impure as the result of our meeting). Damn him for defying all that Greg and Liz had so carefully and intentionally ingrained into my head. However, I can’t help but have a little, teeny part of me that kind of wishes that my idealistic and romantic aspirations had been met this time around. I mean, I would think that was only natural.

But then I remember. I remember what happened last time and I remember the information I have before me now; some would think I should’ve learned from my mistakes and not have gotten myself into this another time around. But I did.

At the very least, even if he is not “dating” The Hooker, he is spending time with her. And I know from experience that spending time with him more often than not involves the grown up kind of hanging out and alcohol.

A friend of mine told me that what he did wasn’t wrong, that he isn’t my boyfriend and didn’t purport to be. Because we did not have the “exclusivity” talk (we only had drinks! Sheesh!) he owed me nothing. He, just like I, is able to go out there and spend time with whomever he wants.

He doesn’t owe me an explanation, she’s right. But that still doesn’t make what happened okay. I don’t think that it would have bothered me nearly as much (I would go as far as to say even at all) if he was seeing other people and those people did not include Her; like if they were nice, normal girls like me, not the absolute complete opposite of me. But it was Her. The one who was around two years ago and the one who has, despite the ambiguity of her title, stuck around since then. Whether she’s his girlfriend or just a friend with benefits (FWB) I do not know.

And I can’t help thinking about it.

I would never assume that he would spend time with me and decide to forego any other dating/getting to know someone experiences. It’s just that less than six hours after he left my house, she was at his doorstep, ready for a weekend of fun and together time.

I know I’m better off and that he’s “always been and will continue to be a dog,” that I can’t ever trust anything he would ever say to me. It doesn’t keep me from feeling duped. And, LBH, jealous.

Sunday, September 03, 2006

Opportunities

Big party tonight. Big party tonight with lots of single men that i have never met before, my friends have never met before and most importantly, none of my friends have hooked up with...my small big city has become very small recently. So while I know the hosts, relatively few of my friends are able to attend AND there were a lot of unrecognizable email addresses bearing male names in the mass invite. I study these things, I freely admit it and I would wager that many of the readers of this blog do as well. But anyways, the host called for single people and his desperate plea for the single people to be women just made we want to attend all the more.

But that was at the beginning of last week...NOW i'm trying to figure out why? Why am I sitting on my couch searching the web? My hair is still wet from the shower and yes, there is mascara under my eyes. I have not bothered to even take care of that...I did get dressed in jeans, white tee and a pair of old flops (not exactly glamorous party attire). I am resenting the fact I even have to go...and yes I do have to go...it's a housewarming and he attends all my parties...it would be rude not to attend.

I had thought I would try to look cute for the evening. But for some unknown reason, I have no urge to make any effort to get gussied up.

Now watch, the man of my dreams will be there and will talk to me. Oh well.

Also, I have a friend going with me tonight who is a terrible flirt, so even if i come back with nothing good I'm sure she'll provide some material.

Saturday, September 02, 2006

The Virgin/Whore Complex.

So, I know you’ve all been anxiously awaiting your update regarding the date with RCB. I had some aversions calling it a date in the first place but some of you out there convinced me that it would, in fact, be a date.

I should have trusted my instincts.

But let’s back up a little. We talked briefly on Thursday to figure out where and when we’d meet. He showed up at the appointed time and we walked to the bar together. We went to the back bar, as it was less crowded, and sat down and ordered a round. We started to talk. And it wasn’t awkward and it wasn’t forced and it wasn’t silent. In fact, it was quite nice and comfortable, filled with an equal combination of flirty banter and intellectual discussion. Many compliments were thrown my way, all of which were accepted but none of which were returned.

Four hours later, he asked his famous, “what do you want to do” and looked me in the eyes. Dammit. Did he mean what did I want to do or what did I think we should do? I knew how I should answer but the opposite words came out of my mouth. Throwing absolutely zero caution to the wind, I gave him four choices, one of which was to go back to my house (very close by), make something to eat and watch television (as it was a school night).

Of course he picked the go back to my place choice. However, I set down guidelines and rules before we walked out of the bar (not only because this was a “first date” and this is how I am but also because of how he treated me in the past and because of the still ambiguousness of the relationship with The Hooker, whose name was never uttered by either of us). I drew The Line so that he would not have any misconceptions about what would happen when we got to my house. If nothing else, I am very good at not crossing my self drawn lines; toeing them, sure, but crossing them if I set my mind not to, never. Ask Him.

We get to my house and, obviously, no meal was made and no television was watched. As not generally being one to share this kind of information, I will just say that we had a good evening. He acted in the right way and said and did all the right things. He followed the rules. A naïve girl would be a fool to think that this guy hadn’t changed! A naïve girl would think that this kid now knew what was up, what he had given up two years ago and what he had been missing in the meantime.

Everything seemed to be good, or at least copasetic. I mean, why go through the trouble of contacting me after so long, arranging a meeting, maintaining hours of conversation and more hours of hanging out if you didn’t, at the very least, like me?

Naïve, naïve girl. I apparently have never heard the phrase "have your cake and eat it, too."

Through my own resources, I come to find out that he would be spending the entire long weekend with Her. And that their weekend would consist of much alcohol and hanging out. That kind of hanging out. And that this was all planned well in advance of his meeting with me.

What. The. Fuck.

This is the girl who told me, when she was trying [unsuccessfully] to be my friend (ew!), that her friends joke she’s been around the block so many times that she built her own sidewalk. The one who said, if put in the place of Monica Lewinsky, she would have done everything the same except she “wouldn’t have gotten anything on the dress.” The girl whose boyfriend had tamed her to the point of being able to look but not touch, who refers to men as boy toys.

As Objection so aptly stated the other day, “it’s the classic virgin/whore complex” meaning that guys really like the sweet, innocent, normal girl (ie ME) but always tend to gravitate toward the girl who is the exact opposite in all ways (HER).

This is so dunzo.