Resolve Shaken, not Stirred

Today I got a last-minute invite to a joint birthday party for some former coworkers. I was excited to be going out, having spent all of last night on the couch alone. Well, it was just me and a tub of guacamole and Stacy and Clinton. But, you know, not the same as a night out. The first hour or so was uneventful and pretty fun- I got to catch up with some people I hadn't seen in a while, which is always nice.

And then, literally minutes after I'd been proudly telling my friend P about the end of my December affair and how it was SO NOT A BIG DEAL, said affair walked in the door. It had briefly crossed my mind that he may be there, but I hadn't really taken the idea seriously. And immediately I fel like I was going to barf on P's shoes.

And also immediately, I felt ashamed. Why was I having such a strong reaction to something I'd just been laughing about five minutes before? Hadn't I made peace with the situation? I thought so, but...now I was getting all kinds of pissed that he had seemed to walk right by without saying hello.

And just as I was about to go and seek him out myself, he came over and hugged me, kissed me on the cheek, and said, "Wow, your hair looks great." And then I became I puddle of useless Jell-O. DAMN DAMN DAMN.

In the end, it was actually a good thing, We talked for a bit, and actually TALKED about how things had ended up and that neither of us was super happy about that. Not that we want to go back to what we were doing- I personally know that he can't really give me the relationship I want right now, and that it'd be foolish to go in that direction at this point. But I am feeling a bit more hopeful that we may be able to be friends, hang out occasionally, whatever.

That and I was thinking THANK GOD I DID MY HAIR TONIGHT.

Anthropology

My friend M has been making some extra money on the side hosting events for an event planning company for a while, and when she had to back out of a recent Speed Dating event, she asked me if I could step in. I agreed, since I'd never been to one before myself- I was curious to see what it was like.

The day before the event, I got e-mails from the event planner with instructions and materials. I showed up at the venue feeling a bit nervous, but pretty well-prepared. That was, until...

"Hi. I'm here to host the speed dating event tonight."
"Um...I don't know anything about that."
*blink, blink* "It's supposed to be here at 7PM...?"

Once he called the manager and confirmed that there was, in fact, an event there tonight, I felt a bit better. That was, until he showed me the "VIP room" where the event would take place, and it was a shoebox. A shoebox where I was supposed to set up fifteen tables with chairs on either side of them, leaving enough room for people to move around. Riiiight.

So I did what any person who doesn't want to piss off the people who paid $25 for this would do- I improvised. And luckily not everyone showed, so the grand total was eight women and seven men and we all juuuuust fit.

I was to let them rotate for five-minute "dates" and then have them move on, turning in a card at the end where they checked "yes" or "no" to say whether they'd like to contact each potential match later. Pretty simple, really. And it was- but I did get to observe some interesting things.

1. I'd rate the men who participated, on average, to be less conventionally attractive and more shy/quiet than the women, with a couple notable exceptions.

2. While there was a posted age range for the event, one woman was much closer to the high end than the others, and she did get fewer matches than the younger woman. One man even noted her age on his card.

3.The most conventionally attractive man in the group got two mutual matches. The man who seemed the friendliest got five.

4. One of the men, who acted like he was too cool for school from the first minute he was there, got no mutual matches, and the women who talked to me at the end thought he was creepy and seemed like a jerk.

All in all it went well, people seemed to enjoy themselves, and no one looked like they had a hard time talking to each other. It's probably something I'll try myself someday...but with another company, at another bar. I like my space.

Back on the Wagon

I just got back from a first date.

That's right! Me! Ms.On-Again-Off-Again-Relationship-Drama Whinypants!

Plus, it was even a good date! We discussed all the things you are never supposed to talk about (religion, sex, last relationships, politics) quite comfortably. And, to top it all off, it didn't make me nostalgic for my ex even against all odds as said first date might as well be a physical clone of said ex. Same eyes, same smile, same height, same build. Luckily, his personality could not possibly be more different.

We met for tea...which turned into dinner....which turned into going out for drinks...which turned into a ride home and an awkward hug good-bye in front of the Peapod delivery man who was holding a monstrous supply of toilet paper. (Uh, thanks, roomies, for ordering a 10 year supply of TP.) No kiss as the combination of winter garments, seat belts and lurking delivery man was a tad too much to make it all work out.

So, yeah, I hope we go out again. And, I hope we can make it to a kiss without an audience and copious amounts of cleaning supplies being delivered. Though at least he now knows we are well stocked.

Queen of Spades

Will Ditch When Provoked

Two Saturdays ago I was arriving home a shade late from a birthday party for a friend's daughter. I had a first date with a new guy I'd been introduced to via the interwebs, and I was looking forward to it since our e-mail exchange had been pretty fun and he seemed like someone I would get along with. I was feeling a little apprehensive, though, when I texted him to say I might be a few minutes late meeting him and his reply was:

"You're a woman. Fifteen minutes late is five minutes early to you anyway."

*blink, blink* Oh REALLY?

I didn't like the tone of that at all, but I let it slide because I hadn't met him yet, and texting isn't exactly the best medium for conveying nuance and subtlety. And we ended up having a nice time, even though by the end of the date I was in the throes of a full-on head cold. I got a nice message from him a couple days later, inquiring about how I was feeling. So when I talked to him again Thursday, I was interested in seeing when we could get together again.

When we spoke Thursday, he invited me to meet him and some of his friends later that night. I declined, since I had dinner plans and I wasn't quite over my cold, and since I already had plans to go out the next night and wanted to conserve my energy. At first, when I got a couple of texts during the evening, I thought it was cute. You know, stuff like, "Too bad you're not here, they're giving out free beers to girls with your name!" But after a few I got kind of tired of it. So, I said thanks, but I really feel like I should get a good night's sleep. And that was where it got sort of interesting:

Him: Fine, you win.
Me: Since when is someone winning? I'm just not up for it tonight. I'll be out tomorrow night if you and your friends feel like meeting up for a bit. (And here I named the bar we planned to go to.)
Him: I'll tell you where you can find me.
Me: Oh? Because I thought I just told you where you could find me.
Him: That was tonight. Tomorrow you can track me down.

And that was when I had to put my phone down and walk away from it for a few minutes, because that little exchange pissed me off. I mean, really? So after I cooled off I replied and said I hoped he had a nice night. And he came back with some joke about me being cold and then said he'd see me tomorrow. And I was hoping not.

When he asked me about my plans for the evening Friday, I consulted the Queen for advice. She said I should tell him where we'd be but make it clear that he AND HIS FRIENDS were welcome to meet up with us. And so I did. But when they came to the bar we were at, it was...awkward. He hung out over at the bar and didn't come over to our table. He texted me to tell me to come to the bar and see him (which I did only when I needed to visit the restroom). He kept pressing my friends to find out "who was in charge" and where we'd be going next. He made fun of my outfit. I was not pleased.

See, I don't think he was actually intending to be rude. I think his idea of funny involves provoking people, and trying to see if he can get them to feel a little uncomfortable. And if he was someone I already knew, I might find that kind of funny. But in this situation, it just made me feel like I wanted to get the hell out.

So, when my friends decided to go, I went with them, after telling him that I wasn't comfortable staying out alone with him and his friends (because frankly, me plus five guys I don't know? Bad idea!). And his incredibly mature response? "OK, well have a good night, I GUESS." And then when I was on my way home, I got ANOTHER text. "What just happened?"

Well, you proved yourself to be kind of a creep and I ditched you, actually.

Free Agency- it's not just for guys anymore!

Last weekend I got a phone call I wasn't expecting. A certain young man, who really ticked me off right before the holidays, was back in town and called me to "finish our conversation". He seemed surprised when I told him I hadn't expected to hear from him at all, and he said, "But...you don't just leave a conversation like that hanging!" When I pointed out that he HAD, at least for a week and change, it seemed to register. So...that was sort of encouraging.

He went on to say this...well, it's sort of paraphrased, but you get the idea:

Him: "I really like hanging out with you, and I want to keep doing that, but...I feel weird about the sex part. You're like, only the third person I've been with, and it feels weird doing that when we're not technically committed."

Me: (frantically doing mental math to see how many you get when you divide my number by three) "Oh, I totally understand that, and we can dial that part back, no problem."

So then we agree to hang out later that evening. And of course the making out starts. And then I, in an uncharacteristic show of restraint, said:

"Maybe we should stop for now. I should be getting home."

And wouldn't you know, suddenly that DIDN'T seem like such a great idea to him, even as he told me he's "feeling bad that he's thinking of seeing other people" and isn't sure he wants to commit to me...and he doesn't want to hurt my feelings. Imagine his surprise when I said:

"Actually, I'm seeing other people. And it's fine with me if we still go out, if he have sex, don't have sex, whatever. Either this goes somewhere or it doesn't."

The fact that I was kind of indifferent/totally accommodating and not biting his head off seemed to be too much for his brain to absorb. Seriously. So anyway...we'll see. At this point I doubt we have much long-term potential, but I'll certainly take advantage of the great sex while I date around. Because after all, what's good for the goose...

Stick a Fork In It

For lack of enthusiasm to rehash the lameness of my love life, I have been uninspired to write. Since the drunken tiramisu debacle, My Favorite Mistake and I had about two good months during which we did not discuss the rekindling of our foolish love affair, instead focusing on morning toast in bed, Wii tennis tournaments and scary movie nights.

Queue “the discussion.”

Now, two months into a new relationship, I probably would not have been so rabid to discuss “where we stand as a couple” before taking a three week vacation to the west coast. (This is most likely a happy lie, though, as I simply do not understand mankind’s unwillingness to engage in an adult dialogue about relationship status. Yes, yes, labels can pigeonhole a burgeoning relationship, sure. However, labels can also tell you what you are getting and whether what you are getting will be seeing a slice on the side while you are unknowingly unwrapping Christmas presents 3,000 miles away.) However, almost two years into a tumultuous relationship which has at times been both casual and horrifyingly serious, I wanted clarification on what we were doing (again). I wanted to know if I should invest more time and energy into a so far constantly failing relationship. Suffice to say, this dialogue did not go well as it turned into a fiery monologue on my part and bewildered huffing on his.

So, after sunning my now single self in California for three weeks, I have returned to the east quite content. For the first time, I feel like this relationship is completely done. There is nothing left to feel out, experience or discuss with him.

Five minutes after I finally made it home again, My Favorite Mistake called me having an existential life crisis. And, for the first time, I was entirely unmoved. I will always care for him, yes. I will probably miss him, too. However, we are assuredly done as “us” has ceased to exist. Stick a fork in me, I’m gladly done.

Queen of Spades