100 First Dates

Improving US/France International Relations

2007-04-27T06:45:00.001-05:00

As usual, the work week was intense, and lots of long hours. It was a treat to have colleagues in from Ireland (American ex-pats -- one VERY cute) and have some decadent dinners with them. I think France has spoiled me - I may not be able to afford to eat when I get back to the US...my heart may not be able to survive the fat content either. Foie gras, boeuf bourginon, bordeaux, creme caramel, crepes, ...did I mention the foie gras? Go enjoy some now before it's outlawed around the world. ...and yes, the guilt is killing me, but I said a prayer of thanks and lit a candle for that duck's delicious sacrifice.

Sadly, just before the weekend, my 5 year old digital camera finally snapped its last shuttering shot and died. No more pictures. But by not stopping to take pictures I managed to cram a record amount of site-seeing into my final weekend.

Saturday morning I hit the Louvre. It was a surgical strike.

I was NOT playing around. If you're going to survive the world's largest museum, you had better get there early, have a pre-purchased ticket to avoid the lines, and you'd better have a plan of attack. I arrived before opening, and thanks to my trusty Rick Steve's guide book managed to share a few moments alone with Mona before the teaming masses arrived to worship. The art was amazing; the architecture, sublime. It killed me not to have my camera... at one point on my walk to tour Napolean's lavish apartments I had a perfect Paris shot from a window: the pyramid, the palace and the Eiffel tower in the background. C'est la vie. At least I have justification now to buy a new toy when I get home.

I left the Louvre and headed over to Ile St. Louis and Ile la Cite to tool around for a bit. I sat down at a cute little cafe just next to the bridge and thought I'd have lunch, but an obnoxious and LOUD American couple sat down next to me, practically in my lap and completely broke my mood. I opted out before ordering and instead watched an awesome jazz quartet perform on the bridge (a perfect Paris moment) and then toured Notre Dame. A service was in session and I took a seat to enjoy mass being recited in French. I strolled around on the Seine for awhile and then went shopping on St. Honore for a bit. Very trendy, and too expensive for me with the dollar being so weak.

For my final night in Paris, I knew I'd have to rally. I found my way back to the hotel for a late nap, did a little research and got myself together to go out. I had a hard time deciding between ultra trendy Buddha Bar and Hotel Costes. I wasn't in the mood for ultra hip lounging with the beautiful people though. Alone, I was feeling a bit intimidated, so at the last minute I went with a completely different option called Batofar, dancing on an old ship docked along the Seine.

Of course, I wasn't alone for long. I descended into the bowels of the ship and someone immediately took a liking to me. We had a great time dancing the night away. I thought I was doing OK by heading out so late, but evidently things don't really get bumpin' until 3am in Paris. As the crowd thickened, my host got a bit defensive. I guess I wasn't paying enough attention to the scene, just having fun. Evidently, a few other guys were edging in on his turf wanting to dance with me. Some of them tres adorable. A bit of a scuffle ensued, but thankfully didn't get far. Of course, I don't want to incite violence, but it IS great for the ego to be the object of such adoration!

One of the other contenders finally broke through to me but not through the language barrier. Me - no Francais; he - no Anglais. We settled for Espanol, but honestly, once he opened his mouth the mystique was gone. By around 4:45 I'd had my fill of dancing and decided to walk back to the bank to find a taxi to take me back to the other side of the city. My new pair of black patent leather pumps was obliterated, but the adventure was well worth it. It's not every night you dance on a ship in Paris.

Somehow I managed to wake up while breakfast was still being served in the hotel. I started packing things up and checked my bags before heading out to Musee d'Orsay. What a glorious train station this place must have been in it's day... it's pretty fabulous now. I saw some great works, but most enjoyed the collection of pastels and some art nouveau pieces, as well as the incredible view of the city from the balcony all the way up to the Sacre Couer.

Outside the museum, fortified by an orangina and a crepe, I was back on the train to the hotel. It was time to bid Paris "au revoir" and catch the plane. Next stop: Frankfurt.

Date 69 - Parlez vous amour?

2007-04-18T05:43:00.000-05:00

Bonjour mis amis!

After arriving in Paris this weeked, I went down to Champs Elysee on Saturday and strolled around. Sampled tea and macaroons at a place that a friend recommended. Amazingly delicious. Unbelievably rich flavors: raspberry, toffee, caramel, chocolate.... mmmmmmm!!!!

The weather has been unseasonably warm. After walking around the Champs Elysee all afternoon, I was "glistening" (code for sweaty girl) and ready to get back to my hotel for another shower. I went down to the metro and waited for my train, 10 seconds later a guy plopped down on the seat next to me and started chatting me up. (Mind you, I looked disgusting and smelled even worse. It was a nasty hot day.)

I politely explained that I don't speak French, and asked if he spoke English. Before I knew it he was asking me if I had already eaten dinner and if I would accompany him... So there, ya go. Not even in the country for 12 hours, don't even speak the language and I'm on a date.

I think that's a testimony of how lonely I'm getting on the road that I'm now willing to accept a date from a total stranger in the metro.

At some point it occurred to me that if I turned up dead it would probably take the folks at work back in Austin a few days to notice. I'm scrappy though... I figured if push came to shove I could probablz take him. Overconfidence is clearly a problem for me.

We went down to the left bank and ate a nice little restaurant. Conversation was a bit challenging because of the language barrier, but still interesting. Evidently, I'm perceived as even more "uppity" in France than the US, go figure. Great meal. Nice wine. One of the perks is that bordeaux is not an import here! ;)

We went for a walk after dinner and he took me to see the small replica of the statue of liberty on the Seine. Then the La Tour Eiffel. He was holding my hand and even bought me a rose. Tres romantique. But I honestly didn't feel a thing... it was nice to have company, but the whole thing just made me long for a real boyfriend to be sharing that with.

He saw me back to my hotel after a circuitous walk and rode with me on the metro to get back. Of course, he wanted to spend the night, but I wasn't interested. I think the guy would have humped my leg on the train if I'd let him, and I hadn't even consented to a kiss. It's not like I was encouraging him. :P
I totally understand the Pepe le Peu cartoons from my childhood now... they are NOT exagerating!

Sunday I went out to Versailles.

What a pain in the ass.

The train I needed wasn't running because of some maintenance or something. Of course, not speaking French, this wasn't easily communicated to me. I got there eventually, but it was a huge effort. Lots of transferring at stations. Once I got there and saw the lines to get inside, I opted to just do the gardens instead. Words cannot convey the scale of the place. It's ridiculous. I spent all day and didn't even see all of the gardens! What's really amazing is the fountains... all of it done without pumps or electricity. It's a marvel of engineering.

Yesterday was our first day of work (although I was working on email over the weekend, of course). Boy, do I appreciate being in a Western country. There are numbers on the building, and they're in order! Hooray! Unlike Tokyo, I didn't spend two hours trying to find the place. I just took the metro to this stop... tried to find the right exit (impossible even with help from a kind Parisian), but easily figured things out from street level. We're in a hip and colorful little area, so I'm hoping to get to walk around at some point and explore.

Greetings from the land of big hair, fake boobs and relentless cheerleaders

2007-02-20T17:17:00.000-06:00

I was headed down south to drop the dog at the petsitter and handling last minute business by cell phone when she got that look. Rush hour traffic and my dog do not mix. Somehow I managed to divert her in time; she narrowly missed getting sick on my briefcase (thank god!). Leaving her broke my heart, especially knowing how much MORE time I'm about to be away from her with interviews and 5 weeks of upcoming international projects. As I started to leave, she broke free and tried to chase the car as I backed out of the driveway. My heart shattered.

I thought I'd save some time by flying to Dallas yesterday ... well, maybe not time since flying and driving are about equal when factoring in airport security, but at least gain some productivity, avoid another speeding ticket and needless mileage on my jalopy. The flight was delayed over an hour though, so scratch that productivity gain... and add in a concussion from the poor placement of seating at gate 10 and the handrail strategically placed directly behind my head. Ouch!

I did however meet an interesting Italian woman who is connecting me with free triathalon training. Before you break into hysterical laughter, let me clarify, it's a mini... the Danskin. And you are allowed to walk instead of run. My dislocating kneecap wouldn't tolerate anything else.

Thank god the day is almost over. It's certainly been a Monday, although I think I got most of my gremlins out of the way last night. I was on the computer past 2:30 dealing with tech support in India before finally giving up the fight. Exhausted, I fell into bed to catch a few hours of sleep. When my wakeup call rang at 6:00, I was so disoriented that I kept trying to answer the remote control.

Somewhere Between Agony and Optimism

2007-02-18T22:52:00.000-06:00

Someone recently asked me what I want... what I'm looking for in a relationship and what I want out of life. I didn't have any concrete answers and maybe that's a problem. A lack of vision. Maybe I've been afraid of disappointment - that by hoping for something specific I'd be devastated when it didn't arrive. For instance, I've never really thought about children. I know I don't want to be a single mother, and since there's no significant other on the horizon, it's never seemed pertinent. What if I do want kids? What then?

Somewhere between agony and optimism...
I heard that line on a network TV drama tonight. I love the way it sums things up. I feel like I'm being tested right now. I said goodbye to a great guy that had potential and we'd barely even said hello.

We'd been out a couple of times when he told me how much he really liked me and that he wanted to keep dating me. I felt the same.
He told me some unmentionable things he'd like to do to me; I was interested.
He told me he didn't want to be involved in a serious relationship and I heard him. Game over.

He inquired later that night what I thought about what he'd said. My response: "I think you're great, and I'm definitely attracted to you, but I don't think we're in the same place." He even called a week later about a date, evidently the message, so softly delivered, didn't quite sink in the first time.

There was a time when that would have been enough for me, when I could have just been in it for a little fun, a diversion, a "good time"... but it's just not enough anymore. I've been down that road and it's a dead end. I know if I spend enough time with someone I like, I'm going to become attached. I think I'd rather be alone than waste my time with someone who isn't really available. I don't have alot of room in my life as it is... better to leave what little space I have for someone real, than to fill it with artificial sweetener.

Date 70 - Dinner in Paradise

2007-01-30T22:42:00.000-06:00

There's alot going on these days. Plenty of day to day details and trying to corral various work and personal projects, in the hope of someday seeing the bottom of my email inbox, a laundry basket or my closet floor. But it hasn't been all mundane, there's been a bit of soul searching too. I've felt a bit juju deficient lately. A bit run down. Not quite melancholy, just weary, and also unsexy. The soul searching has been about big things... trying to open myself up to various "potentials" and "opportunities".

Some of these are opportunities that 1300 people a day apply just to get a shot at, but not me. I'm being sought out by Goodco and instead of being elated, I'm feeling stressed out by what the interview will do to my already full schedule, and how psycho my dog may become after more time away from home. Then there's the 3 million what-ifs about relocation and cost of living. It would be poetic irony for me to finally complete the remodeling projects and never get to live in the finished house, but it's not what I want.

What DO I want though? Ay, there's the rub!

It's an interesting time. I've been taking some initiative lately. Had a little "Come to Jesus" meeting with my new boss to let her know that I'm a bit frustrated and although committed, needing to manage my own career and ensure I'll be appropriately utilized and valued. I think she understands that I'm a flight risk without me giving her an ultimatum.

My career is doing much better outside of the office though. My panel at SXSW was accepted and we kicked off Geek Open Season at the SXSW party at Beauty Bar. It was cool to reconnect with old colleagues and meet new random tipsy geeks. Funnier still was looking for an old colleague I saw walk in the bar, but lost sight of, only to be called out by some random guy I've never seen before.

At least I thought I'd never seen him before. He didn't look familiar at all and the nametag didn't tell me anything. Turns out it was Elvis from the annual holiday bar crawl. I didn't recognize him without the wig and shades... and was shocked to realize that anyone could identify me! I mean, I somehow thought that wearing a costume would render me anonymous, but evidently reindeer antlers aren't much of a disguise.

We chatted for a bit; he introduced me to a few folks that I needed to meet (including my latest crush Hugh Forrest *sigh*... so dreamy). We enjoyed a few cocktails and then he took me to a late dinner at Paradise Cafe a few blocks down the road.

We talked for a few hours and enjoyed some interesting and offbeat conversation. Ah, these alternative males. He's creative and cool, but will he be normal enough to sustain my long term interest? Time will tell.

He's already called to schedule our next date, but deadlines, previous theater plans, a friend's gig and the superbowl are looming. It'll have to wait.

Date 71 - Fling, Flang, Flung

2007-01-29T21:12:00.000-06:00

I went to a very groovy party this weekend. I forced myself to go. I haven't been sleeping well lately and really just wanted to veg out and make up for lost "quality time" with the dog, but I knew it would do me good to go out and be social.

Besides, the new year's resolution is more joy - less pain, and what could be more joyful than a raucous little costume party with some random peeps. I did my best to put together a festive ensemble without going to unnecessary trouble or expense. It gave me an excuse to wear some bling that's otherwise too bold for the office, and not exactly date appropriate.

When I arrived, the party wasn't quite hoppin' but was starting to simmer. I started to mingle and chit chat. Some interesting guys but no real contenders... especially when I realized the tall cute guy I was talking to was someone's serious boyfriend. Doh! I met a couple of excellent girls though and got their numbers, and it's always good to renew the ranks of the single girlfriends. Sometimes I think that's better than meeting men!

As the evening wore on, there were a couple of hotties in attendance. Much to my delight, an especially cute one took a shine to me. I'm not sure how much brain was in that pretty little head of his, but his likeness to Keith Olbermann was a total turn on and my (potentially) unwarranted geek crush was in full bloom.

We continued to interact throughout the evening when I started to pick up on his playboy vibe, I politely and discreetly told him that although I was definitely attracted to him, we were after two very different things. I was interested in more substance and since he seemed to be more interested in action, perhaps he'd do better with someone else at the party.

Undaunted, he continued his pursuit and well... eventually, he finally caught me. We left the party and stayed up all night.

He's already called and left a message to follow up. Sweet. No plans yet, but we'll see.

Date 72 - Ringing In the New Year

2007-01-01T22:47:00.000-06:00

The New Year -- It wasn't with a bang. More like a whimper.

I feel like I've known D for ages. We connected online and developed a sort of friendship. He lives in Houston. I like knowing that he was out there and rooting for me. We'd talked about meeting for ages, but with his travel schedule and mine it just never seemed to happen, and frankly, wasn't that much of a priority for me.

D decided for us though. No time like the present. He booked a room at the Omni downtown and alerted his college friends in town that he'd be visiting.

It was high alert. Although I was stoked about meeting him, I was dreading it too. I wasn't on my A-game...and truth be told, I liked this guy!

I'd been sick for weeks with some viral / bronchial / cedar fever nonsense, and still wasn't completely well. But more importantly, my head wasn't in the game... I was focused on the house. Baseboards... flooring... paint...

I was relishing my time away from the office. Almost two whole weeks over Christmas and New Years. I didn't check email once... although I did occasionally experience anxiety over what nightmares would await my return. The "unplugging" was really good for me. I focused on making a serious dent in the remodeling projects -- and although I didn't get as far as I would have liked, major progress was made, and I felt like I was finally regaining momentum. It had been more than a week since I'd worn normal clothes or makeup.

This date seemed like a disruption.
A distraction.

And I just felt weird meeting this guy that I actually knew. It wasn't like it was a blind date... and yet it was. And somehow he convinced me to give up prime time - New Years Eve!

I spent most of the day running errands and trying to expunge physical evidence of my manual labor. I scrubbed as much paint off my hands as humanly possible and then splurged on a manicure. I went shopping for a new outfit and ultimately wore something that I already had. I slapped on some makeup and got my hair did and hightailed it downtown to the hotel to get him for dinner.

I walked into the lobby and there he was. *sigh*
He looked great. ... and he's my perfect height too... I felt positively girlish as we walked a few blocks down to Carmelo's for dinner.

The guy had it together. He'd been through finishing school... all subtle but noticeable and lovely manners. For instance, he took the curbside as we walked... had his hand on the small of my back when we were on unstable ground... opened the doors...

Dinner was delish, but it was obvious that he didn't feel well. I worried for a moment that it just wasn't working out, but then my empathy kicked in. I'd been sick for weeks and remembered how bad it was while I was still at work and felt like hell but didn't "look sick". I felt his forehead and he was burning up. We had planned to go to Antone's or another venue later, but I gave him a free pass. He needed to rest, and although cancelling our plans seemed lame, I certainly wasn't going out solo on a major holiday (although, you never know who you might smooch).

I walked him back to the hotel. We held hands. I gave him a hug goodnight (germs, you know...can't be too careful).

He insisted that we have brunch the next day before he drove back to Houston.
I appreciated the sentiment, but this seemed like even more of a pain in the ass. Now I'd lose two days on the house projects instead of one. It was New Year's Eve and I was home by 10:30. At least I'd get a decent night's sleep.

We went to Chez Zee for brunch the next day and had some of the most horrendous service ever. Evidently our order never got put in. Brunch would up lasting about 3 1/2 hours. Although we've always had great conversations, at that point even your fantasy dinner party with all the dead famous people would be flagging.

Finally, I bid him adieu.
We still chat, but I think some of the mystique is gone. At least for him.
I'm no longer his fantasy girl next door online... now I inhabit the real world.

Ho for the Holidays

2006-12-27T17:56:00.000-06:00

Ah, Christmas cards....

...The joy of a handwritten envelope heralding news from far-flung friends of days gone by...

It's so nice to hear from those dear to us, but it's queer and creepy to hear from those you don't know and can't recall.

This year I received a bland but lovely card from someone claiming to be an alumnus of my grad school. The sentiment was generic enough to be friendly without saying anything. His name didn't ring a bell. The address was a city not far from the university, but I've never known anyone who lived there. There was a small sticker in the lower left corner with an email address and cell phone, so I decided to see if Google might clear away some cobwebs and refresh my memory.

No such luck, but I did find out that in August of this year, the author of my Christmas card was driving down I-95 and wookin pa' nub in the form of some gay trucker action. The next result was a listing for a male escort service, and included a picture. I'm generally pretty good with people... if not names, then at least faces and I swear, I've never seen this guy before in my life.

Looking at the strange web-ephemera, it occured to me that this poor guy is actually the victim of some sort of identity theft... but if that's the case, why is he sending me Christmas cards?

Am I Scrooge here or is this the next Nigerian money order scam or something?

I don't get it... what's the angle?

I get Christmas cards from my dentist and from a local realtor that I know. Is this guy just trying to drum up business? Potential clients and gay truckers? And if so, how did I get on his list when I haven't lived in his area for over 9 years, and haved moved at least 4 times since then. *shudder*

Date 73 - Young Student, Old Skool

2006-12-17T21:28:00.000-06:00

I was delighted when I got an email from L midweek. I couldn't remember him exactly, but he included enough detail that I had a vague recollection of him. What I thought I remembered was that he was cute, seemed really nice and down to earth, but that he looked really young.

He wanted to go to the Radical NY! exhibit at AMOA and I was hooked. A guy who volunteers to go see art? I'm in!

He even volunteered to wear a Santa hat so I could spot him easily. Bonus points for moxie!

I was a couple of minutes late when I saw him striding down the opposite side of Congress, but I was feeling shy, so I slowed my pace and let him in first, then I sidled up to him inside the exhibit. He was taller than I remembered and adorably clean cut.

It was great to have something to react to and discuss. He had some great opinions to share. All in all it was an excellent date.

Some of the work was really provocative, and some was just plain weird, but there's something bonding about viewing absurd video montages and explicit photographs of genitalia on a first date. Pardon the pun, but let's just say the art was well hung.

It was really educational too... who knew that William Wegman, the guy who dresses up his Weimeraners, was so avant garde before he wound up selling out and doing calendars? It was cool to see pictures of the partners of famous artists that I hadn't seen before. I had never seen Keith Haring's or Robert Mapelthorpe's partners or their work before. Interesting context.

And plenty of random flotsam...
A Keith Haring crib. Early Madonna fashions. Some Stephen Sprouse clothing and textiles, sans safety pins.

We spent a good three hours taking it all in and chatting. Pretty impressive given the limited size of the museum. We finished up in the museum store and then said our goodbyes with a hug on the side walk.

We both agreed we'd like to see each other again, but I'm not sure how I feel about going out with a guy that much younger than me. He's 28, I think... ? Which shouldn't be a big deal, but they were playing some old school hip hop in the museum as we were leaving. It made me want to rollerskate, and I couldn't help but think that he probably wasn't out of diapers at the time.

If all these 80's references make you nostalgic, scroll down to the bottom of the blog and get your PacMan on... my little gift to you!

Date 74 - Lovely Parting Gift

2006-12-17T20:50:00.000-06:00

T called me the same night he met me... basically asking me to ditch the guy who had glommed onto me toward the end of the evening, and hang with him instead. I didn't hear my phone at the time, and when I got the voicemail I had no idea who it was from - always fun.

Thankfully, he sent me an apologetic text message a day or two later asking if he could take me out and including his name, and I happily returned his call. He was out of town, but we made tentative plans for lunch or coffee over the weekend. Later in the week, we nailed that down to sushi on Saturday at noon. Fun with fishies! My favorite.

I arrived at IchiBan right on time. I'd never been; it was much cuter than I imagined. I didn't expect the little koi pond just inside the entrance. T was leaning over the bridge watching the fish when I walked up.

My first thought was, "Wow - that's one shiny shirt!" It looked like something that might actually be too loud for Rodney Dangerfield in CaddyShack, but I gave him points for being festive. It is the holiday season, afterall.

After a hello hug, we went inside and got a table and took our time catching up and chit-chatting. He's an interesting guy, but not what I expected. I don't know what I expected... but he wasn't quite it. He's got an amazing vocabulary, which is refreshing, but he's not formally educated. He's currently in sales and sells alcohol to bars, but has had quite a variety of menial jobs before now. I envy the freedom he has in driving around his territory visiting clients instead of being tethered to a gray fabric wall in a cubicle farm. I think maybe he's got the whole work thing figured out better than I do.

Halfway through lunch he asked me if I had any children or ex husbands. Nope!

Then he asked if I had any interest in having children or ex husbands, which I thought was novel and funny, but it made me feel self conscious.

The sushi was good, but when the restaurant started playing Engrish Christmas carols, it was my cue to hit the road. Our server brought the check and gave it directly to him. He accepted it graciously so I thought he was going to pay, but then he placed the folder open and perpendicular to me, which I took as a sign that he wanted me to split it. I opened my bag, fished around for my wallet and found enough cash, but when I had it ready, he was plunking down enough cash for the whole bill. I asked if he wanted to split it and he took my money, but it felt weird.

We wrapped up our conversation outside and he walked me to my car before remembering that he had "something for me". I couldn't imagine what. We walked over to his car and he pulled out an iced bottle of Italian bubbly. How random. And how goache of me to have mistakenly called it Champagne, when of course it wasn't from France.

I figure it's the first time I've gotten such a lovely parting gift from a lunch date; and I guess from a financial standpoint, all said and done, I ended up even.

Scary Christmas to All!

2006-12-11T20:00:00.000-06:00

...and to all a good night!

Apologies if you were at the Jones Center this weekend and your fancy schmancy soiree was rudely interrupted by a mob of 200 Santa Clauses singing bastardized Christmas carols. We only dropped two F-bombs in the lyrics, but I think the off key Santas were more offensive.

It was all in the name of fun though...
As we passed by the plate glass windows, you looked so stuffy.
So repressed.

You couldn't believe Bitsy was going on yet again about her trainer at the gym. [yawn]
Then Bob's boring tales of golf course shenanigans were threatening to put you into a catatonic state.
But that was before we took the museum by storm.

...Honestly, didn't your wine and cheese go down just a bit easier after something so unexpected, and dare I say, artistic? At the very least, your conversations got alot more interesting!

It was a fun night. Maybe too fun.... the Twelve Bars of Christmas and all that. An excess of random flirting and weirdness.

I'm now in serious lust with a very tall, very fetching man at Barcelona.
(sigh) ...so dreamy and yet I never got his name. I think I'll have to make a return trip just to feast my eyes on him again. Ladies, I've got dibs, so don't even THINK about it!

I also have a vague recollection of giving my card to a very beautiful bald man at Darwin's Pub and saying something to the effect of, "You're adorable! Call me sometime." Not my style usually, but when surrounded by 199 other Santas, normal social mores just don't seem to apply. Besides, he'd already given me the eye a few times, and I didn't have time for chit chat... I had more bars to visit and more Christmas spirits to drink.

Stay tuned. New first dates are afoot!

More soon.
XO

Bereavement

2006-12-01T12:39:00.000-06:00

I received some news this week that shook me to the core: the unexpected and accidental deaths of some dear friends. It didn't register... didn't compute. Stunned and horrified at what this meant for my girlfriend who survived: what she's been through, and what she's lost. What she'll now have to endure.

As the news finally started to sink in, a cold chill descended on my shoulders and through my bones. Days later, I still feel it. And I can't begin to imagine her agony. She lost her mate...the love of her life. Her family. She's one of the strongest women I've ever known, and I believe someday she'll be OK, but I can't begin to imagine how she's coping now.

She's seen me through thick and thin. Good times and bad. I'll do anything I can to help her through this, although I can't imagine my help could have much impact. I don't know that anything can truly help, but I'll be present.

I was home when I got the news. I was about to head to the gym for a swim but driving didn't seem like a good idea. I was shaken. I really wanted company; I didn't want to be alone. I reached out to D, hoping he'd offer some consolation... empathy... support. He just sighed and said in his perpetually congested voice, "Yeah, death is hard."

He stayed on the phone with me for a little while and as a result I learned a bit more about his thoughts on religion and the afterlife as I was sniffling into the phone. At one point he was unemotionally quoting scripture to me. I felt more lost and disoriented than before I called him. He didn't even offer to come over.

I called a girlfriend and the tears let loose.

She was there for me... she was exactly what I needed.

She listened.

She talked me through the shock.

More importantly, she emailed and called me the next day just to check up on me. He didn't bother.

All the stress and nonsense of my workaday life means nothing in the face of a tragedy like this. This is the wakeup call, the mother of all reality checks.

Wring every ounce of love from your life and savor every drop. It's gone too soon.

[Post script] - I didn't hear from D again until Friday night when he left a message tantamount to a booty-call. Very tacky since I'd just spent 3 hours at a gut wrenching memorial service. Another voicemail the next day... same tone. He's over.

Age Appropriate

2006-12-01T10:20:00.000-06:00

Last weekend I went out on an impromptu date with the old guy, D. After almost a week of hanging out in my pj's at my mom's house and remotely coordinating towing and car repair, I was ready to spiff up a bit. Nothing fancy, mind you, just my contacts, a little makeup and an easy dress.

We had a yummy dinner at Koreana and then he wanted to take in the new Bond movie.
I loved him in LayerCake and Daniel Craig might have the hottest bod in the history of Bond, but why couldn't they spare the measly $2.59 for some scotch tape to reign in his monster ears? Is it supposed to make him sexier because we infer that he's a great listener?

Our timing meant we were stuck going to Gateway theater (not my favorite). The lines were insane, but for some reason no one was using the ticket kiosks. Evidently they were a new concept for D. After he inadvertently cancelled his transaction for the third time in a row, I was cracking up and then noticed my former crush standing a mere 3 feet away.

He was alone on a Saturday night and looked pretty shabby.
I felt pretty smug since I was looking good AND on a date.
Then somehow I saw things from his perspective.. that I was must be out at a movie with my dad.
*shudder*

That feeling just intensified when 3 very cute 30-something guys sat down right in front of us. D is good company, but shouldn't I be out with someone a bit closer to my own age?

I've always liked older men. Mainly because they have better manners and are a bit lower on the jackhole factor... but at some point aren't the guys my own age supposed to mature? Ripen?

I'm getting older, so shouldn't the guys my age be grown ups by now? Heck, the former crush was a couple of years older than me (4 maybe?) and he was still stunted.

Tidings of Comfort and Joy

2006-11-26T16:35:00.000-06:00

It's so nice to be back from the holiday and sleeping in my own bed again.
The dog is thrilled too, although she was spoiled while I was gone.

While I was away, I had a lovely date and I'm starting to conclude that maybe it's my fate to be forever single... and maybe that's lucky. Here's a guy that adores me, whom I adore right back, all the while realizing that if we lived in the same town we'd probably kill each other, or just cause a righteous rip in the space/time continuum. At times, we've thought there was potential for something serious but the pressure always messed things up. Now that neither of us is particularly locked in to that line of thought, we're able to just relax and enjoy.

After driving three hours or more, he picked me up at my mom's house. It's exceedingly weird to wait to be picked up from a parent's house for a date when you're in your thirties. As soon as we were out of sight, he planted a big one on me and I melted. We've known each other for a few years now, and every time I see him, it seems as if no time has passed.

We started with an art opening and some beautiful sculpture, paintings and prints. We didn't even get out of the building before he was dragging me into a darkened doorway to steal a kiss. We walked around downtown and perused our restaurant choices before settling on a cute little Thai place. The food was excellent and the time just flew by as we gave each other all the major updates on our lives.

We drove around for a bit and then headed down to the lake. It was so pretty to see lights twinkling in the hills. I was struck by how new and different a familiar place can feel when you're finally all grown up and with the right company. Although, I've been living and visiting this town for 20 years now, I never drive there. I'm normally not a grown up when I'm there.

Next we went to a hipster lesbian owned bar hoping we'd get a chance to take in a little live music, but no luck, cocktails would have to suffice. Just as well. We were 5 hours in and still had a million things to talk about. I unburdened myself and felt myself open to him in a way that rarely happens even with close friends, let alone men. There's just something about him... maybe it's the way he leans in and strokes my back, part hug, part comfort, part longing, all natural.

I know nothing is going to happen with him. He's up there. I'm down here. Never the twain shall meet. I don't think I'd even want anything more to develop. Why mess with perfection? I'm just comforted to know he shares this earth. Even if he's not mine.

Going Nowhere Fast

2006-11-21T13:01:00.000-06:00

Apologies for the lag in posting, dear readers. You'd think it's because things have been progressing with a certain someone, but you'd be wrong...

Things seemed to be moving along with A for awhile there. I even thought I might be getting off this dating treadmill for awhile. I was teeter-tottering. I thought we were going somewhere, but it seems as if we've gone nowhere fast. Bottom line, he's just not that into me.

I get it.

My frustration is that things could be moving along with someone and then hit an invisible brick wall. That's nothing new, right? OK, well, add in the new modern twist of the brick wall consistently sending random instant messages to you at work despite that he's not into you. He's not asking you out, he's not calling, but he feels the need to check in with you constantly. What the crap is that?! It's beyond annoying. Do you think I finally nipped it in the bud? In a fit of frustration, when he was pinging me to find out how my weekend was and I recently wrote, "Great. I got married!"

Well, if nothing else, this has pushed me back to an old standby (Date 90)...and I do mean OLD.

D has been really sweet and although I don't think we're heading toward anything, he's easy enough to be with and is starting to grow on me. My friend Nikki says I'm approaching intimacy with him and to go with that. I'm not so sure that I want to go there. I mean, I DO want to go there, I'm just not sure I want to go there with him.

Where I have gone is to the great white North to visit my mom for Thanksgiving. It took me 12 hours to get here and I slept like Rip Van Winkle last night. It's good to have a little extra time this week and a little distance from the recent work related nonsense I've been enduring. A heated mattress pad kept me toasty warm and recently cancelled international projects let my mind relax for the first time in weeks.

It's such a different pace up here. Sloooooow.
The local paper here has three sections and is still thinner than a menu at a decent restaurant.
The hot topic is high school sports. Especially the girl's swim team that won the state championship - two full pages of articles. That's news!
I like to think that maybe I could move someplace quiet like this and start over. Maybe there's no need to go through the nonsense I do, the traffic, the corporate BS, the pace of life.

I might have a job opportunity soon that will give me an option to kick things WAY up into the really big leagues, or turn them down a few notches from a lifestyle perspective. I'm considering alot of things right now.

But I love Austin. I've made a little nest of friends... my own little family. I love the art. The theater. The music. The general attitude. I was wound up tight after dinner last Thursday and went to see my friend's band play and in the process discovered some excellent deep fried southern rock in the form of Uncle Lucius. They won't be on the menu in either of the places I might move to.

Tonight's menu includes a date. Yes, I'm 1,500 miles away from home and I have a date. He's driving three and a half hours to take me to dinner. Haven't seen him in eons. Of course, he's pulling hard for me to make the big league move because I'd be closer to him and it is tempting...

I guess this Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for options.

Teeter-tottering

2006-10-15T16:21:00.000-05:00

Work has been an exercise in C.Y.A. lately. Definitely not fun, and not what I signed up for, but I'm hanging tough. My Friday was double booked all day long. I was dealing with more politics and spin than CJ Craig on the West Wing but when my phone rang for the 177th time that afternoon, my tone immediately softened.

It was A calling to triangulate my exact coordinates in the massive airplane hangar in which I work so he could drop by for a quick visit. It was the first (and only) 5 minutes of humanity that I had all day long; and I used it to pick up a salad that would languish on my desk untouched because I didn't have time to take a bite the rest of the day.

I was supposed to go to a party on Saturday, but my dear friends Mr. and Mrs. Fartknocker backed out. Evidently they had an orgy with Wilco in San Antonio the night before and were completely sapped of energy. No biggie. I've been tapped out myself lately, I can relate... and this low key backyard party was the most high energy thing I had planned all weekend. Since my Saturday night was suddenly free, I gave A a jingle to see what was up.

We drove to the Whole Foods mothership downtown and perused the aisles together. He fell in love with a Mexican cream ale. I had my first experience with fresh chocolate almond butter. He bought me a bottle of local wildflower honey. I introduced him to the wonders of Dr. Bronner's soaps.

It was nice to do something so low key - a non-date date.
But I felt a little strange about it too. It was nice to feel like I was one half of a couple ... even for an hour... even if it wasn't true. We seemed to portray a convincing illusion.

We headed back to his place and stopped to rent a movie on the way. He insisted on buying me Milk Duds, even though I didn't need them. I had forgotten that we had a slice of fresh Italian Cream Cake to share. The Milkduds were spared but the cream cake wasn't granted clemency. He fed me sweet forkfuls as we watched the DVD.

We snuggled up together. It was easy. Comfortable.

I don't really know where I stand with him and I'm trying to just relax about that. Maybe we're just friends. Maybe it'll be more.

Double Dipping

2006-09-27T19:27:00.000-05:00

OK, OK.... so I'm not supposed to do it.

Part of the whole philosophy of 100 First Dates is to get in, get out and get on with things when there's nothing there, be it connection, spark, attraction, whatever. The point is to make haste and not waste time when it doesn't work with someone. Some people have thrown this back in my face. Just to clarify: I am NOT trying to date as many men as humanly possible. I'm not putting notches my lipstick case. I'm just in search of something real.

I ditched A after 3 dates last year because I didn't feel any physical chemistry with him. I thought he was a great guy, but I just didn't see any romantic potential there. For some reason he held onto my contact info. Awhile back I got a random instant message from him and he's been sending me the occasional hello since then. Maybe it's helped that he works at the same company and he's able to contact me through the Matrix while all other external forms of communication are verbotin. It's been nice to have a friend on "the inside".

Last night I met him at the Draught Horse to buy him a belated birthday beer. It was totally low key. No makeup, flip flops, shorts. I brought the dog. He had two pints of St. Arnold's Octoberfest, I had a hefeweisen, and the dog had plenty of love from other patrons.

It was so nice to see him again. He's still adorable. There's a genuine warmth and ease about him. He's a genuine guy. ... and he's also exactly the right size for me. He called me "Shortie" and he meant it. Literally. Not just in the generic-white- guy,wanna-be-ghetto-fabulous way. I'm 2 years older than him, but he still makes me feel like he could take care of me. Like he's in charge.

When we parted, I got a hug and a kiss on the cheek. I wasn't sure if it was the brush off. Then he left a message last night and today he called to say hi after work. Very sweet.

He's been on my mind since last night.

I just don't know about him. As I mentioned, he's a great guy but he's very vanilla. He's a meat and potatoes guy. Traditional. Family oriented. Mom, America and apple pie. Football, for cryin' out loud! Yes, I know... it's a religion in Texas.

I can't imagine he'll ever be able to talk to me about football. I can't imagine I'll ever be able to talk with him about books, art or theater. I'm lucky enough to have such a diverse group of friends who give me that, so is it fair for me to expect him to meet all of these intrinsic needs I have for cultural stimulation?

No partner can meet all of your needs - it's not possible. You've got to have some sense of self outside of a relationship.
Is it even fair for me to expect significant overlap? Am I asking too much?

I'd Really Love To See You Tonight

2006-09-26T22:37:00.000-05:00

I'm guilty of recently picking up a $3 CD at Target that included some rather lame 70's pop ballads from my childhood. They're the aural equivalent of comfort food. I popped it in the stereo and was singing along in my car with the top down.

I should never have listened to it. I think my mobile sing-a-long has somehow invoked some combination of karma and Kasey Casem long distance dedication mojo. Do you know this one?

I'm not talking 'bout movin' in...
and I don't want to change your life...
but there's a warm wind blowin', the stars are out...

and I'd really love to see you tonight.

It made me think of someone specific. I was on my way out to meet up with a gaggle of friends for a birthday happy hour when J called. Haven't heard from him in ages. He's not local. Our last visit was in Boston... and I can't even remember how long ago that was. A year ago? Was it more?

I was presenting at a conference back then and he came down to the city for the weekend. We hung out with his friends one night and took in a photography exhibit at the museum the next day. When the new job took me to Boston this June, it was hard for me. Now that city reminds me of him.

We have a connection. There's definitely substance and he's just as much a unique personality as I am, but the logistics don't work. I live in Austin. He doesn't. I'm not moving to try him on like a pair of shoes. Neither is he. We've never gotten to actually date each other. Not really.

We spent a long time on the phone catching up with each other. It's mundane. It's compassionate. It's wistful. And despite how annoyed I was at him with our last visit and our disagreement, part of me thinks yes, it would be really nice to just be with him.

By the time I got downtown, it was no longer happy hour at Casino el Camino, but my friends were happy to see me anyway. We moved the party to someone's house and it was a perfect evening. Homemade mojitos with mint clipped fresh from the garden. Some twinkly patio lights. A small group of just the right people. Perfect weather.

I felt complete.

Gravitational Pull

2006-09-07T22:56:00.000-05:00

I'm feeling at peace for the first time in a long time.

Maybe it's the break in the weather.

Maybe it's having had a little time away from the chaos at work and getting a little perspective, resetting my priorities. Triage protocol is to handle the most serious and life threatening conditions first. Flight attendants tell you that you have to put your own oxygen mask on before putting it on the shrieking toddler next to you. I'm working on that.

I made it to the gym for the second time in a row this week (albeit late). Ah, the endorphins... how I've missed the endorphins!

I ran some errands after the gym with the top down on the car and tonight I fell in love with the moon. At one point it was gold. Didn't matter where I was ... I couldn't tear myself away from it. When I got home I stood at the end of my driveway staring up and said a prayer of thanks.

Date 75 - Su, Su, Pseudo-Date

2006-09-03T23:57:00.000-05:00

K practically lives in my backyard. I can't actually recall the first time we met; I'm sure it was through some kind of social setting. At this point we've known each other for at least a couple of years.

I don't see all that much of him, but it's always nice when I do. K's the kind of guy who has everything you want from a character perspective. He's bankable in that department; a solid guy with real integrity. I have alot of respect for him. He's always offering compliments and there's always been a flirty vibe between us, but some small yet quintessential something eludes us.

It just so happened that I had a little meltdown at work before the Labor Day holiday and I needed to get away from it all. I needed a reality check. When K called that Saturday, I jumped at the chance to go out on his boat. Just the two of us.

I got directions to his place, packed up a little picnic lunch for us and drove over. After the grand tour (new house), he got our frosty adult beverages in order and proceeded to take care of everything. How awesome is that? Although I've spent alot of time on boats, I'm not used to having to put a boat in the water and the whole ramp situation is pretty intimidating to me. For those of you who are uninitiated, it's a major pain in the barnacle. I was very appreciative.

We cruised around for awhile. After laughing at some frat boys and "girls-about-to-go-wild" who were getting ticketed for being WAY over the maximum occupancy for their watercraft, we found a nice little nook of a cove to anchor in. We splashed around for awhile and hung out on styrofoam noodles.

It was most excellent and exactly the relaxation I needed until the perch started to nibble on us. That's just too freaky for me, so I opted to hang out in the front of the boat and read for awhile.

It was a perfect day spent together. Easy company. I wanted it to work. And somehow our date just wasn't quite a date. It was more than just going out with a friend, but less than a date. A pseudo-date.

I think part of it is that K knows that I'm not fully available for him.

That I couldn't...wouldn't just sign up to be his girlfriend. And besides, we're both more than fully occupied with our respective jobs at the moment. Even though we're going nowhere together, part of me will still be jealous when he does sign another girlfriend.

Long Time, No See

2006-09-03T23:30:00.000-05:00

I got a voicemail today from a guy I've neither seen nor spoken with in a long, long time. Years ago we had a physical relationship.

It was one of those things that's just clear from the get-go. There's never going to be anything more, and frankly, I never wanted anything more from him. Eventually the equation tipped against him. When his arrogance became more annoying than the physical fulfillment was rewarding, I was out. No fuss, no muss.

He called today because he wanted a date for a "Weathergirls" concert this evening. Is that some weird way of coming out?

Work Strife Balance

2006-09-01T21:26:00.000-05:00

In corporate lingo, it's what we call "a challenge"... "an opportunity" even. Blech. Why can't we just tell it like it is? This week, I was trampled in high-tech Pamplona. Nah, forget trampled, I was gored.

I'll try to spare you, dear readers, the gory details and majority of my angst and just give you the relevant splatters.

The really cool cute guy on my team up and quit on Monday. Too bad he's too young for me, or now he'd be eligible for the dating program. Did I mention how cute he is?

He executed the most powerful form of quitting too, the "I'm not going to another job, I'm just getting away from you hateful mofos" brand of quitting. In his case, well played! Sadly, his message was quickly diluted, his thunder stolen when the next day, my boss announced his eminent departure.

My boss QUIT! I'll give you three bullet points to highlight my shock and dismay:

Effective and local manager was key ingredient in me taking this job
Excellent role model: successful, well connected / happy husband, involved parent
Offered reassurance that balance was possible at zany chaotic workplace

The manager who will be his temporary replacement already cracked under the pressure of another project and attacked me in front of a coworker. Then he continued to poke and prod at me while I needed him to be OUT of my personal space. All of it got to me. Bad.

I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep with this on my mind, so I rallied that night. Everything for our dog and pony show the next morning went off without a hitch and I felt vindicated. Not because I saved the day, but because everything happened just as I had foreseen it, and the day never needed saving in the first place. *sigh*

I hate seeing red. All of this nonsense was like getting stabbed repeatedly by a matador. Yes, it pissed me off, but I was disoriented and bleeding too. If my boss, who seemed the master, couldn't make it work at this place (with a wife at home to support him, do his laundry, and offer the occasional home cooked meal) what possible chance do I have at work/strife balance?

More importantly, am I ever going to have the time or energy for a dating life while working at this place?

Date 76, or Another Reason to Remain Single

2006-08-12T17:44:00.000-05:00

H was a match from Speed Dating a few weeks back. We'd been playing phone tag trying to set something up. He'd suggest a date and inevitably it wouldn't work with my schedule. Finally, I counter-offered for Friday and it looked like we finally had a winner; he left me a voicemail saying that was perfect. We would go find a patio somewhere and enjoy some wine and conversation.

When he finally caught me and we had an actual real-time conversation by phone he was enthusiastic and excited about our date. He confessed that he actually had already scheduled a date for Friday, but he already cancelled it because he really wanted to see me. I think he meant that as a compliment, but it came off kind of shady. ...I made a mental note, strike one. We worked out the details and our plans were set. Friday night at Central Market, 7pm. Not Whole Foods though, because that's where his original date was supposed to be. Eww...strike two...

Thursday night I was out at a movie with a friend and missed his call. I checked my voicemail on the way into work Friday morning and heard a message for the "You Have GOT to Be Kidding Me" Files:

"Hey,_______, I know we've got plans for Friday, but my original date just
called and she already spent money on some wine tasting event and I hate to be a
jerk..."

[oooh, too late...]

"Because like I said, she already spent the money, so I hope
we can take a raincheck."

I did appreciate getting advance warning and not being stood up, at least there was a modicum of courtesy there. I called back and thankfully got his voicemail so I let him know I received his call:

"Got your message, don't worry about tonight. Have a good weekend and I'll catch up with you some other time."

By some other time, I meant half past never.

He called BACK and left this voicemail:

"Hey _____, You are SO wonderful and understanding! I guess
another option
and I didn't even think about this, but I guess I could have
purchased
another wine tasting ticket and taken you as well, but that would have
been
kind of awkward. But anyway, you have a wonderful weekend, call
me, blah blah, blah..."

Ick, ick, ick!

And also, eww.

All of this probably sounds bitter, but really I was thankful to have gotten all this insight before I put in any real time or energy. I was happy to have my Friday night back so I could enjoy a good friend's company over dinner, and thrilled to be spared a likely painful date with a shady guy who puts the Ass in Asperger's Syndrome.

Date 77 - Back in the Saddle

2006-08-09T18:02:00.000-05:00

I met J at Speed Hating a few weeks back. He's fair haired, attractive and mild. His demeanor was almost as flat as a can of Coke left open overnight. Sweet, but no bubbles whatsoever. Then again, I wasn't in my best form the day we met, so I was happy to give him the benefit of the doubt; maybe he was just tired. Besides, 4 minutes is barely long enough to say hello, let alone get to know someone.

I was glad when he showed up as a match. Maybe a little surprised - it can be really hard to predict who will take an interest.

I've been slammed at work lately. Even my mother was starting to inquire if I would ever date again in this lifetime. So when J called me to make plans, I didn't hesitate to call him back, even though it was a Friday night and I was on my way out for drinks and dinner with colleagues in from Europe.

Before this crazy job I might have waited awhile to return his call. I wouldn't have wanted to seem overeager or too available. Now, I don't have time to care. Besides, I wanted to get something set up while he still remembered me. Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin'... into the future. I was dead set on making this happen, even if I had to cram it into an hour.

We arranged a mid-week lunch and I finnagled a way to meet him in between taking my dog to the vet, teleconferences and dental appointments. I walked in the door of P.F. Chang's and there he was. MUCH cuter than I recalled. A quick hug and friendly greeting and we were off to our table, his hand ever-so-gently guiding me on the small of my back. Smooth.

Our waiter was hilarious. I think he's got previous work experience from a Disney park. We listened to a well rehearsed spiel about his sauce making ability and he continued to use his tour guide demeanor through out the meal.

The conversation was light. The food was yummy; I was happy to share my orange peel shrimp with him. As an attorney, J is going to have no problem relating to my work hours, but with his pricey home in the rolling hills on the upper NW side of town, he might not relate to my financial philosophy. Comparatively, my lifestyle could be considered white trash. Afterall, Hank and Peggy Hill live right next door to me - diggy-dang-dong-ding.

I had no chance to offer to split the check. J adroitly placed his card in the folio at almost the instant it arrived. He mentioned wanting to get together again soon when he got back to Austin (he was flying out that afternoon). We walked out to our cars and parted ways.

Speed Hating: The Update

2006-08-01T23:37:00.000-05:00

After being insulted and caught off guard, I somehow lost my notes on all the speed dates, which meant flying blind on selecting who I would be willing to see again.

This has resulted in a really odd market research experiment. Being noteless meant having to click on every possibility and seeing who (if anyone) selected me too.

The results are in and though I'm not quite as popular as Trident, I'm not doing too bad either. 40% of last week's speed daters choose "The Master Dater" to see again. Of course the creepy guy is included in these figures, but thankfully he's refrained from stalking for the time being.

3 of them have even emailed so far. Not too shabby considering I already knew the host, and the verbally abusive Brazilian was out of the running.

And so, the countdown resumes...

P.S. Here's some good shtick on the whole sordid experience of Speed Hating.

Speed Hating

2006-07-28T22:29:00.000-05:00

A good friend of mine needed help getting back in the saddle. I offered to be her moral support and go speed dating with her. After signing up for an event in January that was cancelled, we finally got around to the make up session, but now I think I'm actually the one that needs help.

It wasn't the best week for me, but I committed to doing this and didn't want to back out. I wasn't in my best form to start with, then things got progressively worse.

You know you've been dating too much when you go out to try to widen your circle a bit and run into more people you already know. The panic hit me the moment we walked in -- I knew the host.... but how? Oh sweet Jesus, how do I know this guy? Have I dated him? Or worse? My stomach was in knots. My dear friend put a deathgrip on my arm to prevent the fight or flight response and dragged me over to the bar.

One and a half vodka and crans later, I remembered where I knew him from. Yes, there was an interest... but nothing ever happened. There was a stretch of time where I kept bumping into him and of course there was plenty of flirting and even a phone call or two, but I don't recall an actual date. *Whew!*

We finally get things started and I begin to feel boring talking to these guys who want to know what I like to do for fun. My interests are so broad, this is always tough for me to pick just one or two things... but lately, there's not much time for fun for me so I just talk about generic fun: hanging out at the lake, live music, blah, blah... The more of these guys I talk to, the more generic I feel.

It's not a bad turn out. The guys seem OK. There are no prison guards, and just one borderline creepy guy. Two if you count the one ogling me before the event. Plenty of average attractive guys though. One really cute short guy and an intriguing aloof guy. At least 2 of them are suitably lubricated from their frosty adult beverages to be full on flirtacious. I'm thankful for that. I'll take it.

I'm finally starting to relax, it's one of the final rounds and here comes a nice tall attractive guy that I didn't notice earlier. How did I miss him? I'm starting to feel glad I came... and then as he nears my table, I see it's yet ANOTHER guy I already know.

This one doesn't trouble me though; I immediately place him. He's a nice attractive guy I've met through a mutual friend and I would have loved to date him.

Notice the past tense there. "I would have loved to date him."

As he sits down, I greet him warmly and refresh his memory, reminding him that we've met before at our friend's house. I tell him it's nice to see him again. He seems ok, but a few seconds later he jumps back spastically as if Cosmo Kramer has taken posession of his body and points at me as he exclaims, "Oh my god! You're that crazy girl that's writing about all her dates! You're a freak!"

Um.... wow. Well... how do you respond to that? I was shocked. Hurt.
Here I thought he was this nice guy that I might actually like to date, and he's calling me names. Nice.

I tell him he can be excused from the remaining 3 and a half minutes if he'd like.
...and now I'm wishing I didn't come at all.

But it gets me thinking about all this...
I am NOT a freak.

The reason I'm doing this is motivation. I know I'm going to have to go on alot of dates before I find a good match for me. I've already had more than my fair share of guys with issues and "fixer-uppers"... and it's tough out there. It's tough to keep going in the face of adversity... when no one seems right... and when men behave badly.

I don't have steely resolve. It's hard enough to be putting yourself out there, and I sure as hell don't need to be called names.

I guess he wasn't nearly as nice a guy as I thought he was.

Mistaken We-dentity

2006-07-24T21:43:00.000-05:00

It has recently been brought to my attention that I have a boyfriend. He's cute, smart and funny and obviously we're very happy... and although we've have been dating awhile we're clearly still basking in the glow of being a new couple.

Lies... all lies!!!
Where DO people get this stuff? What am I - a C-list celebrity? People are speculating like the tabloids!

A few weeks back I went to a friend's infant birthday party where I was thrilled to catch up with a friend that I might only see a handful of times in a year. We're busy people, leading busy lives and although we enjoy each other's company, we've never been particularly close. Since we've known each other, at every party we attend, we've always found a place to sit and kibbitz.

It's not news. Regardless of our respective relationship status, it's the way we've always been. Even when he has a girlfriend. Even when I have a boyfriend. It doesn't mean there's an interest though, and we're not dating.

It's funny though, the non-boyfriend in question and I don't even hug anymore. At this party where everyone assumed we were dating, he gave me the most lame ass half-hug I've ever experienced in my life. I felt gross and pathetic after that kind of contact. Hug me gladly or don't touch me at all! I don't need your pity! ...and I don't want to be like the woman on Seinfeld that Jerry doesn't want to kiss, but is forced to since precedence has been established.

I called him on it and gave him an out. I'd rather have no physical contact at all than some show of mock affection, so we've settled for bowing at each other like judo opponents. I think that's fair. Awkward, but fair.

Mutual Admiration Society

2006-07-18T21:27:00.000-05:00

Today I had lunch with a new colleague for the second time...and although he's married, we're clearly in love!

Don't get me wrong people... I have conviction and my moral fiber is intact - Married Men Are OFF LIMITS. I would never do anything inappropriate there. I respect the sanctity of the institution. I even know his lovely wife (turns out we used to work for the same company).

But here's a guy who is smart, cute and funny and just as interested in me as I am in him. There's no denying it. We click.

I felt bad that we lingered so long over lunch. There I was, just yapping away. I felt guilty that I kept him from his work and that I played hooky for as long as I did just to spend a little extra time with him at the restaurant, but when I got back to my office (7 miles away from his) there was already an email from him singing my praises.

Yes, I have already asked if he has a brother.
There are two.

*sigh*... Both married.

The thing is, it's so lovely to bask in his company. All his praise makes me feel like it's a no brainer that I'm still single, because after all... from his perspective I'm an incredible catch.

Except for that whole being married part, he's exactly what I'm looking for in a guy. Even if he's off-limits ...and that's VERY reassuring to know I'm so appealing. :)

International Mojo

2006-07-12T21:34:00.000-05:00

I'm working hard these days. Taking it for the team.

My 4th of July was spent in a narrow metal tub hurtling towards Britain. In coach - just in case you thought there was any glamour or even comfort involved. I left at noon; no fireworks for me. I arrived in London late on the morning of the 5th and was promptly picked up by a cab driver.

...and I don't mean driven.

Jools was a cutie, but clearly clinging fondly to the hair band days of ye olde 80's.

Can't blame a bloke for trying. He insisted that I take his number in case I changed my mind about getting together with him on Friday night (my only free time during my stay before departing the next morning).

It's good to know that even after a full day and night's travel, with no makeup on and poor hygiene the mojo still exists.

Talk Blocked

2006-06-06T21:31:00.000-05:00

I was at a friend's birthday happy hour last weekend and meeting more of her boisterous friends. Just when I think I'm ridiculously rowdy...just when I think I've met my quota of brash, loud women, here comes one more.

She's GORGEOUS. I mean ridiculously, jaw droppingly pretty. She's so good looking that she has to pull a Harrison Bergeron and add disfiguring accessories so mere mortals can speak to her with less distraction. Does using obscure literary references in the name of mediocre humor make me Dennis Miller? Sweet Jeebus, I hope I'm more accessible than that! I'm serious people... she's like the vogue model that does the print ads for eyeglass frame companies.

And when two guys sidle up to the open table behind us, I direct their attention to the dirty food filled plate resting atop one of their barstools. It's dark on this second story patio and I didn't want them to sit on that. Nothing kills a buzz faster than an ass covered in pickle juice and reuben remnants.

The guys take my samaritanism as a sign of openness... friendliness... the blonde guy wearing a shirt and tie is trying to worm his way into some conversation with us, but she's having none of it. No sirree, Bob! She cranks up the volume... turns on the twang... and when that's not enough she dials up the attitude and adds a final tweak of harshness. Ouch.

The boys find an out before humiliation sets in. ... and then the birthday girl wants to know why I'm not chatting with the blonde anymore since "he was clearly into you".

Um....
1. I don't think he was into ME.... but I could have been mistaken.
2. Princess Pretty petrified the prospects.
... and this from a single girl! I had hoped I found a compatriot in her... another girl for a wingman, but how's that gonna work when she "talk blocks" me?

Null Effect

2006-05-18T08:20:00.000-05:00

It was well after 7pm when I finally made it home from work. Since I've been feeling so isolated at the office, I really didn't want to have dinner alone, but it looked that way until I remembered that my friend S had mentioned sushi earlier in the week. I buzzed him.

Sushi wouldn't work tonight, but he invited me to join him. Although I have less than zero interest in watching basketball, this particular neighborhood bar has good food and I was already right around the corner.

I zipped in and immediately saw my former stunt husband from Mexico sitting at a table with a friend (or possibly a date?). It was great to see him and we spent a few minutes catching up. Then I rounded the corner to grab a chair next to my friend when I noticed someone whom it was not so pleasant to see.

A former mega crush.

I've always had the most intense chemical attraction to him. Beyond butterflies. To the point of nausea. Just seeing him from across the room would make me short of breath. I still remember the first time I saw him, one afternoon from across the room. My cheeks flushed and my stomach flipped over. My pulse raced.

Later that night, we wound up at a party. He stayed late and drove me home. We made out for hours. We saw more of each other. Other parties, hanging out with friends, and parking in my convertible, stargazing. Kissing for hours. Since we had mutual friends and a hobby in common, we spent a fair amount of time together and I thought there was potential. Even my dog fell for him. He's the only man she's NEVER barked at. She's a scrappy dog and protective of me, but for him she immediately fell over and exposed her belly.

Obviously, the dog is not the best judge of character.

My mega crush turned out to be a mega jerk in the end. I'll spare you the gory details, but there was a very indecent proposal. Unbelievably offensive. Unrecoverable... and to me, unforgivable. That cinched things for me. I was out. Thankful that I had learned my lesson before I got in too deep with him. Still, it didn't matter what a jerk he was, every time I saw him, I was still flushed and flustered. Flummoxed.

Not tonight though. When I saw him it was a non event. I recognized him immediately, but had less than zero interest in him. Not an ounce of attraction left. Not a glimmer. Nothing. Nada. It might have helped that he's not looking so hot these days. Put on some weight. Has something odd happening with his facial hair... some kind of soul patch or some nonsense.

I sat down next to my friend S and got comfortable. We exchanged pleasantries. I ordered and enjoyed my food. At some point the former crush/jerk took notice of me. He was trying to engage me and I thought he might come over to say hello and catch up, but we were able to avoid that with a smile and a curt nod of my chin. We left it at that and my dinner was delicious.

High Tech Pamplona

2006-05-18T08:19:00.000-05:00

The new commute SUCKS.

OK, so it's not that bad, but I feel caught in a downward spiral of social isolation because we're in the middle of nowhere. Lunch with friends is no longer an option and the hours are keeping me from my regular routine at the gym. Lack of endorphins makes the MasterDater a cranky bitch.

It's exciting though. I traded one set of problems for another when I quit and took the new job. In the old job, I was a calf slated to become veal. The youngest chippy in a group of old guys. Not allowed to roam freely or exercise. I was supposed to stay in my cage and not complain about being force-fed. Now the cage has been thrown open and I'm supposed to join in the running of the bulls. Pray that I don't get trampled!

I'm trying to reserve judgment until I get settled. This could be an excellent gig or a hateful existence. It's a toss up really. On the upside, I like the boss. Heck, just having a boss in the local vicinity is a huge improvement. On the downside, I can't imagine having time to date while I'm ramping up... and I also feel like the ramping up might never stop. This could be the end of my dating career and the beginning of my life as a spinster.

Forget the kids vs. career track dilemma... what about the life vs. career dilemma? And how are you supposed to provide for yourself if you don't pick career? Find a sugar daddy?

Date Ready ... Everyday

2006-05-11T08:19:00.000-05:00

My tired tresses needed tidying and even though I'd booked my appointment far in advance, I HAD to have my hair cut.

Immediately!!!

It was getting to the point where I was willing to go to SuperCuts and risk a mullet or a bowl cut just to get some relief! ... the point where you start contemplating going with a completely different look or even cutting it all off for a change. Very dangerous!

But in the nick of time, Jessica from Jackson Ruiz hooked me up with another great cut. She's fabulous. Maybe it was my relief at getting squeezed in for an early appointment, but she looked even more adorable than the last time I was in. So adorable, in fact, that I went magazine mental.

You know the phenomenon. When you see a picture in a magazine of a blonde with long wavy hair and a tiny waifish build and you emphatically hand it to a stylist and say, "make me look like this!". No matter that you're a tall curvy eastern european woman with dark straight locks and a very ample bosom. When you're magazine mental, anything is possible!

Because I was "magazine mental" over Jessica's eyes that day, I consented to let another stylist give me a makeup consultation after my hair was done. No matter that Jessica has large, widely spaced pale blue green eyes and mine are ... well, not like hers at all.

OK, so the end result didn't turn me into Jessica... but it did actually give me a bit of a lift. I'm doing my eyes a bit differently now and I think it really does make a difference. Opens them up a bit more. It's fresh. I can't believe I've had this face for 33 years and I JUST learned how to apply makeup. Blame my previous errors on the folks at M.A.C. -- they taught me what I had been doing wrong for the past 2 1/2 years.

While I was complimenting Jessica on her expert makeup and totally together appearance, she confessed that it's a requirement of the salon. They are expected to look "Date Ready" every day. Having gone on as many dates as I've been on already and having so many more to go, I was exhausted just thinking about that kind of morning routine.

But it's something to aspire to! If I master this, maybe lining up the rest of the dates will be effortless.

Then again, maybe it's not so hard... Most men would never notice something as subtle as eye makeup anyway. Maybe it's just a function of picking out a cute outfit for work ahead of time and ensuring that one's shoes are sassy enough to inspire a haughty gait while walking into the office.

Faking it

2006-05-05T08:19:00.000-05:00

I finally gave my notice at work and then headed down to San Antonio that afternoon for the next morning's flight to Mexico. Although I'd still have two weeks of time to serve at the old job, at least I'd scratch off a few days from my sentence in a tropical locale. Since my negotiations with the new job were finally complete, I'd have that off my list too. Relaxation was on the horizon.

On Saturday night, enjoying our first dinner on the island, I couldn't help but notice that everyone matched. Everywhere I looked, people looked like they just belonged together. Not just couples either... whole groups of friends lifted from some ad campaign for California wine or BMW. One of these things is not like the others, and as usual that thing is me.

The vacation wasn't nearly long enough for me to fully relax, thanks in part to a nasty bout of travel sickness. I'm not sure if I had a virus or food poisoning, but does it really matter when it reduced my beach time to only two weak and feeble days? And no, wise guys, I did NOT drink the water!

On the bright side, I saved a fortune on food and drinks since nothing is appetizing when you're that ill. It was also the first vacation I've ever had where I didn't feel at all compelled to go sight seeing or exploring. Since I've been to the same island before, I felt fully justified to just lay low under an umbrella on the beach (once I was well enough to leave the hotel room again).

It was nice to have a stunt husband to keep me company under the umbrella too. My friend B was part of the gaggle of geeks on this trip with me, and he was a godsend. He checked in on me in my darkest hours and even ran errands for me. Como se dice El Gatorade?

He was basically everything I needed. He'd chit chat when necessary and enjoy the quiet with me too. He never once interrupted my plodding through a massive 988 page tome and didn't seem the least bit annoyed when the italian footnotes had me cackling with laughter. He was willing to forego dinner with the gang for quieter conversation and more spontaneous meals.

Maybe all I really need is a stunt husband?

Found and Lost

2006-04-25T10:27:00.000-05:00

I made some minor progress on the home renovations this week. I feel like I've finally found my groove again and I'm getting back to being myself.

A wonderful friend helped me out hanging some new blinds and while other people were out partying this weekend, I was doing the tape and float routine on a stepladder in the guestbath. Nothing says "party girl" like doing drywall on a Saturday night. ...and I actually turned down a date for that!

My flamboyant new shower curtain from the bastards at Pottery Barn arrived this week. I don't know why I have such a strange affinity for paisley, but I'm motivated now! I can visualize the final product and I want to have this stuff done before I start the new job next month!!! I think I might finally be willing to just pay someone to finish. Afterall, I've gotten this far without any severed limbs or digits, so why tempt fate?

A friend called me around lunchtime on Sunday to invite me out on the boat. I'm NEVER available for him... always busy, but for once his timing was just perfect. I'd already done my chores, perused my periodicals, passed them on to the recycling bin and was ready for some relaxation. I figured since I'm headed to Mexico next week, I'd better start training. You can't just go from 100mph to full stop without changing gears. You've got to downshift!

Bathing suit... hair in pigtails... straw hat... my beloved expensive Austrian shades... I was ready to roll. We had a wonderful time out on the lake. It was hot enough outside that the water was invigorating but still refreshing. We finally had our fill then just before we were headed back to the marina my hat went airborne and landed in the water. I ripped off my coverup Baywatch style and dove in after it (forgetting that my ultra lightweight sunglasses were still on). As I swam back to the boat, salvaged hat in hand, I felt the bridge of the glasses give way and one half slowly drift down to the murky bottom.

*sigh* My mother was right... I can't have nice things. On the upside, should I lose an eye doing home repair, I've got the pirate shades ready to go!

Date 78 - Wedding Crashers

2006-04-17T10:39:00.000-05:00

D and I have known each other for about 2 years now. A true South Austinite, my awesome, sensitive pony-tailed friend is always up for completely random cultural experiences (art, music, theater, etc.). When he received the wedding invitation from our former bandmate, we joked about who would be his escort and decided it would be great fun to bring me as a mystery guest. He RSVP'ed "plus one" with my nom de plume and we got a good chuckle out of it.

Since some more organized wedding guests had already purchased the requisite toaster oven, I got stuck hunting down random registry items for the happy couple at Target. I loaded a good assortment of housewares into my cart, drove home and put together a gift-wrapped tower worthy of Martha Stewart herself.

When D showed up at my door I thought he was pulling another prank. I had gotten gussied up in a respectable blue dress and pearls but he showed up wearing an oversize shiny jacket circa 1986 and a faded black t-shirt. As much as I adore D, he has always had a problem with ill fitting clothes. If I didn't know better, I'd swear he was Jarred from Subway and just never got around to purchasing a new wardrobe.

D marveled at the professional gift wrap job, signed the card and we drove out to Georgetown. By the time we got there the blended multi-culti ceremony was already underway. The bride is Sri Lankan, the groom is Kansan (or something equally white bred.) We quickly and quietly took seats on the outside edge and listened to the chanting and singing.

When the ceremony was over, some of his friends came over to say hello. I've had lunch with them before but didn't immediately recognize them. One of them is now a Googler in NY, and brought his equally Googley NY girlfriend. The other had his fiancee in from Maryland where she's in a PhD program. They're all a few years younger than me.

I like these guys. They're really fun but impressive, they're not. In fact, with the exception of D they're actually kind of jerky. Which is why I never got involved with their counterparts when I was their age. I wasn't impressed then, and I'm still not impressed.

It got me thinking though...
Is this what I was supposed to be doing at their age?
Their girlfriends seem devoted; like they've made an investment and intend to squeeze a return out of it no matter what. They will tame these beasts. It's all a bit tragic to me.

But not as tragic as the open bar...
Rum & Coke, white wine, lemon drops, champagne, sea breeze. Oh, the humanity! Thankfully I managed to keep myself pretty well together until the after party, at which point I promptly nodded off. Not the best showing on my part, but it could have been far worse.

Thankfully D was his usual wonderful self and got me home safe and sound.
...and I only got one mocking email from him the next day.

It's All Who Ya Know

2006-04-14T12:39:00.000-05:00

On my way home from the gym last night, I rang up S. He's an intrepid world traveler and very hard to reach. It's been at least a month since I handed over the big final consulting deliverable to the high muckety mucks and I've yet to hear a peep back from them. I'm still hoping this could lead to my dream job someday.

I know he's got bigger fish to fry with his insane travel schedule. Lately I've been distracted with personal matters, so it hasn't been that pressing for me but I figured I might as well stir the pot to find out if there's the potential for further work, or if this is "done and done".

Lo and behold, he was actually IN the States... and in Austin! He was having drinks with his peeps at the Cedar Door. I hopped in the shower and hightailed it downtown in time to see them crossing the street "Beatles-style" to Manuel's for dinner as I hunted a parking spot. My cell phone rang a few moments later to inquire about my drink preference. Nice!

His friends are great. Smart, savvy, fit, and funny. Married. One of them clearly has a crush on him. Who doesn't? Hell, I do too... although the sideburns aren't helping him much these days. The first time we met I got the weirdest vibe from her. Like I was competition. Doesn't matter that she's married, she cornered me in the ladies room to secure the story of my friendship with him. How long had we known each other? Did we work together? How did we meet? Ad nauseum.... She must have decided quickly that I was no threat. She's been super perky to me ever since.

These are people that you'd just naturally expect to be snotty, and somehow, suprisingly, they're not. I'd feel snubbed if they didn't completely embrace me the way they do. One of the girl's gave me the best compliment as we left the restaurant... something about how well I fit in with them and how they'd love to have me meet the rest of the group.

I don't know why that should mean so much, but it does. Maybe because I work with mostly men... mostly over 50...mostly in a very structured environment. Maybe it's all the crappy job interviews lately. I don't care... I'm taking that deposit to my self esteem account at Ego National Bank.

And in unrelated news... my good karma continues as my awesome friend Jace Toronto gifted me with a 300 song iTunes sampler from SXSW XX. That'll be a great addition to my Tron phone! God bless my groovy and diverse group of friends!

I love you all!

The Bitch is Back!

2006-04-13T16:14:00.000-05:00

I'm finally back from Flahdeeda and not a moment too soon! Those people drive me crazy! If you think Austin drivers are bad, go to South Florida for a reality check. You can play Bad Driver Bingo!

Mark one spot every time you see:

the perpetual turn signal

someone doing 35 mph in the fast lane

someone backing up in a parking lot without any regard for immediate surroundings or pedestrians

a little old lady peering precariously through the steering wheel and over the dashboard (bonus points if it's a little old man! extra bonus points if they are sitting on a phone book!)

It wasn't all bad though. I managed to get most of the family's immediate legal concerns taken care of, so that's off my mind now, and I got to meet the new baby.

She was delightful. The teeniest little thing. It's hard to believe she's 3 months old and still less than 10 lbs. If she keeps this up, she'll be a supermodel for sure... or maybe just a midget.

I changed a few diapers complete with nuclear poo and fed her numerous times. She fell asleep in my arms too many times to count. She'd get so relaxed that she'd fall fast asleep while eating. I can't ever remember being so relaxed that I fell asleep in my food.

Face down in a plate of pasta... I like the sound of that. It has a slight Costanza ring to it... remember this whole food and sex angle? This isn't so far off the mark.

The dog seems happy to be back home. I missed her like crazy. She HATES going to the kennel, but I think she forgets about me 5 minutes after I'm gone. So many things to smell and other dogs to herd. I try not to let the guilt get to me.

Yesterday was a whirlwind of activity between trying to catch up on a week's worth of email and having a job interview at Crooked E Corp. In an absurd turn of events, the final person on my agenda never showed up and I was stuck in a small room by myself for about an hour.

I really thought it was some kind of psychological warfare and part of the interview process. At least I got all the "talking points" of my thank you notes outlined while I called all the numbers I had, trying to get an HR person to come rescue me so I could "legally" walk out of the building.

No luck.

Finally, I peeked out and stomped around cubeville for a few miles trying to find someone to help me. I actually succeeded in locating the AWOL HR rep's cube, only to be told by her neighbor that she just left. Perfect. If I didn't want the job before, I DEFINITELY do now.
You had me at "ignore"!

Since I was already suited up in my corporate finery, I decided to wind down with a couple of cosmos at Truluck's. Between that and a house call from my devoted massage therapist, it did the trick... and today is a better day.

NutraSweet

2006-04-02T22:03:00.000-05:00

It's the first weekend in ages that I wasn't stuck working. I went to a birthday happy hour on Friday night, took in a new flick and caught up with some friends at a local watering hole. Saturday morning I hit the gym and used the rest of the day to catch up on much neglected domestic chores like scaling Mt. Laundry and doing a little Mr. Miagi action on my convertible. (Finally paid for, thanks to all the freelance work!)

Spring is in the air and my hard work was rewarded with a wonderful and relaxing Sunday. I took the dog for her usual morning jaunt to catch up on p-mail while I listened to mp3s on my groovy new cell phone. It's such a luxury to finally have a phone that works!

I called him from the park to see if he was up for breakfast. He's like a favorite pair of sweatpants that you've had since college. Comfortable, dependable, broken in and soft against the skin. Not quite pants, not quite pajamas. Somewhere in between. He's like a boyfriend stunt double.

He's NutraSweet. I know it's not real sugar, but it still tastes just as sweet. As an ex, he's familiar with the territory and knows his way around. He's a good guy and a good friend. I still love him, but not in the way I did before. It's a different kind of love. Phil Collins might call it a "groovy kind of love".

He knows all my scars and for the most part treats them with care and the delicacy of a parent who kisses a "boo-boo" when a child skins a knee. I try to reciprocate when I can. There's a comfort in knowing him and having the history we do, but also knowing that we'll never be anything beyond what we are right now... and that when one of us becomes involved, even this will change. That will be sad and I know that day is just around the corner.

As we brunched, I was delighted to find a marachino cherry in the bottom of my mimosa glass. It was going to be a good day! Two or three more mimosas guaranteed it. A nap, a foot massage and a shower before we were off to run some errands in the convertible, enjoying the breeze and lush new ear candy in the CD player.

We took the long way home.

I sang most of the way.

Whorporate

2006-03-28T14:02:00.000-06:00

I was supposed to go camping with a bunch of friends over the weekend. I've been stretched too thin for far too long and like a pair of Kmart underwear, my elastic is about to give out. I don't even want to be around boys right now. I'm turning down dates just to be alone.

I was looking forward to sleeping under a star filled sky. I wanted to get away from it all. The weather was gorgeous and I needed the special kind of mothering only nature can give. Some vitamin D, some happy time for the dog, s'mores. Not to mention my friend Brett's kickass migas. The way we eat while camping is hardly roughing it,; last time there were mimosas at breakfast! I'd been looking forward to this for weeks now.

Then he called.

My freelance pimp.

...and I realized the ugly truth: I am a whore.

I was willing to kick all the respite, renewal and reconnection with my friends right out to the gutter. I'd make approximately 2 weeks pay in just one weekend.

I felt giddy but was disgusted with myself. I booked this camping trip ages ago. I had plans! All dashed in the instant when the double dollar signs became visible in the reflections of my eyes.

Working for the pimp can be difficult. He has all the control and I know he makes plenty of money from my labor, but I love him like a daddy. When he tells me he loves my work and wants to take care of me, I believe him... I really do.

Ready for my closeup

2006-03-28T10:48:00.000-06:00

Recently my photographer friend Jim was kind enough to help a sistah out. I needed professional pics for some work related stuff and I figured while I was at it, I might as well get a few photos to send back to the family too.

We made an afternoon of it. I brought my makeup bag, assorted styling aids and a few different outfits over to his place, and regressed to my 6 year old inner child. It was fun to play dress up, but I wish I really could have been as un-selfconscious as my 6 year old self. Why is it so stressful to be photographed?

Just for fun we did some cheesecake shots too. There's no way I'd ever be comfortable enough with another photographer to let them get some of these shots. He would have taken much more risque shots if I would have let him. Are all photographers pervy?

Despite my nervousness, he still did great work. I think the real key is volume! If you just keep shooting, eventually something will look great. Seventeen shots where I look like a troll demanding money before I'll allow you to cross my bridge, and then unexpectedly in the next shot BAM! I'm too sexy for the catwalk!
Photography is such an art.

Life Is But A Dream

2006-03-23T13:19:00.000-06:00

As I was leaving the office on Monday, I got word that my grandmother passed away that morning. It's been a long time coming and I didn't feel a thing other than concern for the rest of the family. There's lots of details and logistics to handle now. Plus, plenty of family drama that I'm just not used to anymore. I live far, far away from these people for a reason.

It reminds me how many luxuries I enjoy in my quiet, single life. Other than my dog, I'm generally not beholden to anyone. My life allows me to be selfish, like Cartman on Southpark ("Whatevah! I do what I want!"). For the time being though, my perspective has shifted. Family is the priority right now. For the moment, job interviews, freelance sales meetings, and dates with boys have all been demoted.

I couldn't reach my granddad. It was a constant busy signal, so I went to the gym to wait him out. I arrived midway through a spin class and squeezed every last endorphin out of that bike. His phone was still busy. I went upstairs for a yoga class and the tears came quietly. They caught me by surprise.

The tears aren't because of my grandmother's death, they're because of her life. I feel so incredibly lucky in comparison. She was wired differently..not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but the sunniest disposition you could imagine. Why couldn't I just be dumb and happy like her? Wouldn't life be easier?

I've had the luxury of designing the life I want. I put myself through college and grad school, worked in interesting jobs, traveled internationally for pleasure and work, lived in various parts of the country, bought my own modest home, and adopted my brilliant but neurotic dog. I've been able to explore all kinds of interests, hobbies and adventures while her life was lived in a terrarium. Her world was very small and she never had control.

I have a clear memory of a conversation we had when I was a teenager. As she was ironing my dad's shirts she admonished that if I didn't master some domestic skills like ironing and cooking and become willing to serve a man, I'd never find a husband. Can you imagine?! Sometimes I'm weary of all the responsibility of taking care of myself, but I don't think I could ever tolerate the alternative. Despite all her years of service, she never got the happy ending.

I won't be at the memorial tomorrow. I couldn't get a bereavement fare. Who knew that those tickets are harder to get than redeeming your "freakin' flier miles"? All the airlines are sold out of those fares but are happy to offer a roundtrip ticket for $1000.00. Thanks for the sensitivity, guys.

It's OK. My family was insistent that I stay put for now and come in another week or two when things have settled down a bit. I'll be of more use then anyway. I just booked my ticket.

Technical Difficulties

2006-03-20T11:22:00.000-06:00

Ah, the joys of modern dating life. Between cell phones and email and IM communication should be a breeze, right?

In some cases, it is. Yesterday, I was catching up with a former flame from my college days who's going to Iraq. Again! He's turned into this wonderful guy - a great husband and father; given our history, I'd never have guessed he had it in him. I'd wondered about him for years.

It's been really cathartic to be in close contact and to get his perspective on things. He's brought so much respect and compassion to our interactions that not only have I forgiven him for the poor treatment I received back in college, I've actually grown to admire him. He's grown up and lives in a totally different world now: DaddyLand. I think he's been enjoying the tales from the dating trenches. He's been a great sounding board and I have him to thank for my recent vindication.

I've been having all sorts of technical difficulties recently. My cell phone has gone psychotic and my consulting colleague recently hosed my email account... which kind of makes it hard for me to solicit new business. I wasn't aware of the problem until midweek and it took until Friday to get things ironed out.

Anyway, I was a little stressed that I hadn't heard back from Date #79, G. I didn't know if he had followed up and I missed his communication or if he never even tried. I really had hoped to see him again. We had such an excellent time last week and I was concerned that it was the old double standard playing out. Men want what they want, but if they actually start to get what they want, they often spaz and disappear. Poof!

So, I made out with a guy I had only known a scant seven or eight hours! So what? I've dated guys for months that haven't gotten as far. I felt a real connection and I had fun. Besides, I take it as a good sign that my libido remains intact. After turning down D cold last week I was starting to worry that maybe I'd entered early menopause. Turns out my hormones are still crankin' after all!

I was flying blind. If he hadn't tried to contact me, I didn't want to be the one to push things. I generally don't call guys. I'll call them back, but I don't call. It's not my thing. I really do believe there's some stupid primal thing with them and the chase. Anyway, my old flame insisted that I at least write the guy a one line email to specifically say I enjoyed our time together and that I'd like to see him again. Well, what did I have to lose but my dignity? And after Monday's make out session, that was pretty much tossed out the window already. Nothing to lose now, at least I'd know where I stood.

I sent the note and by the time I got into the office late this morning there was a verbose response awaiting me and asking if I'd like to have dinner one night this week. Turns out he had written a lovely email on Wednesday that got the dreaded bounceback. The poor guy got a message that I didn't exist -- that's GOTTA suck! On top of it all he'd had some problems with his cell phone getting shut off (which doesn't say much for his personal stability).

G's schedule is just as full as mine, so it remains to be seen if we'll ever manage to get together again, but I'm thrilled that he's interested. He might not be long term compatible but he could be a fun diversion, and I think I'm due for that!

Holy Matrimony!

2006-03-19T09:22:00.000-06:00

I attended yet another wedding last night. It was beautiful. The bride was radiant, the groom relaxed and joyful. They're a wonderful couple and I can easily visualize them happily growing old together. They fit like interlocking pieces. Although I knew them when they first began dating, they've always seemed this way to me.

The best man, my ex-boyfriend, was adorable in his tux, even if he did look a bit uncomfortable. I don't think he's ever worn so many layers of such restrictive clothing in his life. Poor dear. I was a bit wistful at the reception, seeing him at the wedding party's table and later dancing with him. There was a time when I thought we might be headed down the aisle ourselves and it's been tough to watch our friends pair off. We're the only couple in that social circle who didn't make it but I'm thankful that we've navigated to the comfortable intimacy of a close friendship. It's far better than our relationship ever was.

I was just about the only single woman in attendance last night. Although, with this particular group there's no real pressure around that because I'm completely accepted as I am, I still felt a smidgeon of the "old maid" pity. Maybe it was self inflicted. I couldn't help but look around and notice another lone singleton.

She has a sweet and friendly demeanor and poodle hair that was the height of fashion circa 1987. There's a faint essence of church lady that emanates from her. Is this my future? I recognize on a rational level that we're on opposite ends of the personality spectrum... but this woman is well educated and genuinely nice. Just like the bride.

For a moment, I think that I need to find a way to file down the serrated edge of my personality. Then I think maybe it has less to do with my personality than with expectations. No matter how wonderful a man is, I have a hard time accepting the idea of spending the rest of my life with him. Maybe it has less to do with the guy than the idea of just setting my life on a firm course that won't vary, with a co-pilot who has his own ideas on where we should be heading.

The bride doesn't have this concern. Her vows rolled off her tongue and there was an impressive firmness of conviction in her unwavering voice. If it was me, I might have passed out, or bolted like the runaway bride.

Date 79 - Geek chic

2006-03-16T20:53:00.000-06:00

SXSW was in full swing and I was reestablishing my neural pathways to creativity that have been cluttered with corporate cobwebs for the past few years now. A couple of days away from the office does a body good!

After Monday's sessions, I ran into my fun loving freelance photographer friend outside of the convention center and downed a toxic nuclear taco. For the love of god... Nuclear doesn't begin to describe the pain! God bless Amy's Ice Cream for sponsoring the pain relief. An immediately administered scoop of chocolate soothed the shreds of my surviving taste buds.

With our mollified mouths, we tromped off to the Blogger party at Club deVille to mix and mingle with the other geek chic. I met Alex, the lovely author of Girl's Guide to City Life, and her great boyfriend. They must be the nicest people to ever emerge from LA, although I credit that to their time spent in Seattle. The photographer and I chatted with his friend, the filmmaker and a few other random folks before parting ways to go to our separate parties.

I was off to Sidebar for the Lifehacker party. I mean, it was on my way back to the car anyway, so I figured I might as well. Besides, the only time I've ever been in Sidebar was with the Snake, it seemed like a good opportunity to create some of my own independent memories there. I'm not much for bars, but with the conference at least I had a legitimate excuse to be there on my own.

I took a quick walk around and not seeing anyone familiar, I sidled up to the bar to order my Tito's and tonic. I think I was two sips into my libation when G appeared at my right and struck up a conversation. A local from South Austin, G was gregarious and cute in a slightly generic gameshow host sort of way. We wound up talking for ages and what was supposed to be a single drink for me turned into several. The conversation was just too interesting to tear myself away.

After a few hours, G asked if we could go to another bar. He didn't even give me the option of carrying my 80lb craptop which was inappropriately stowed in my conference tote bag; he just picked it up for me automatically. Very sweet. I'm not sure how, but we decided on the Ginger Man, which isn't exactly around the corner from Red River... it's got to be a good 15 blocks away at least. Again, the conversation was so captivating, I didn't even notice the long walk.

We chatted for another few hours. We talked about Austin, Asia, product development, design trends, art... you name it. Good times! G is 30, has a master's degree, working class values and ethics and is employed by a think tank. When he wanted to smooch on me, it was a complete no-brainer. A smart, sexy guy who's passionate about his work and life? Count me in!

How is it that I've never met this guy before? Do I need to start hanging out in bars more often?

My liver breathes a sigh of relief

2006-03-15T08:06:00.000-06:00

Thank goodness the SXSW IA conference is over! It was a wonderful mish-mash of media but I'm not sure I could force even one more ounce of liquor down my gullet. It's hard to say no when the drinks are on Blogger and Google.

It was good to reconnect with old friends and colleagues that I haven't seen in ages. There were really interesting panels and discussions and I loved meeting all kinds of random people from all over the place.

Hooray for Boobies

2006-03-09T10:23:00.000-06:00

The other day at work I almost killed a secretary while trying to open the door to the bathroom. She was crouched on the ground and the door just about cracked her in the head.

She was fervently searching for the diamond from her wedding ring. It had come loose from the setting and she just knew it was here. Reflexively my hand went to my throat, to the diamond I wear around my neck. I knew I had put it on that morning, but I didn't feel the chain. Nothing was there.

I had recently switched the stone back to the original necklace my mother wore it on. It's a little longer than my chain. Turns out it had snapped. Maybe it got tangled in my hair brush or something. I don't know. The point is - I was truly feeling this woman's anxiety.

Until I realized that my boobs had saved the day once again. Cleavage is nature's pocket!

And although her diamond wasn't buried in my bosom, the secretary found her stone too.

The Beautiful People

2006-03-08T09:24:00.000-06:00

Last night I dashed my previous plan to meet some new intelligentsia at Dionysium and instead accepted my neighbor's invitation to come downtown to Maiko for sushi with her friends.

(Yes, I am eating alot of sushi these days - I fully expect the mercury poisoning to take effect at any moment.)

The neighbor has a new dog and we've been spending a fair amount of time together lately. It's been nice. My dog LOVES having a new boyfriend to boss around. I love having a smart and single girlfriend to visit with again.

The neighbor's invitation wasn't completely altruistic. There was an agenda: she was being set up and she wanted back up. I'm the go-to girl for anything like that. Call me "Pretty Girl's Best Friend".... it's my lot in life.

Actually, I'm always up for meeting totally random people. Boy, did the evening deliver! Turns out that the setup guy J is a full on former frat boy turned sales exec. You can tell he's an a-hole from 50 yards. Although his look was polished, the sleaze factor was a bit high. It's all relative though because after his friend G showed up, the male species hit a new low.

You know G. Or a guy like him. Way too many anecdotes about strippers. Comments about T and A at completely inappropriate times. Doesn't seem to think women have any value except their bodies. Doesn't matter that he's paunchy, unattractive, loud and brash; he fancies himself some kind of stud. Everyone would accept him and tolerate him if he'd just relax and get out of his own way. Think Dangerfield in Caddy Shack, only without the redeeming charm, humor or money.

Despite G's presence, we actually had a pretty pleasant time over dinner. For the most part the conversation flowed and everyone was sociable. J started to warm up and mellow out. He still seemed pretty shallow, but started sharing some lighthearted anecdotes that made him seem a bit more human.

At the other table the twenty-something girls were shouting about how fabulous they are and how L.A. rules!!! Um, yeah.... if you think L.A. is where it's at, please move there soon and free up some parking for those of us who still love Austin. Their 40ish male friends barely seemed to notice. It's amazing the behavior men will tolerate to be in the presence of a nice pair of tits.

We moved on to GingerMan ostensibly for darts. Thankfully we were spared sitting with the loud drunk girls when the neighbor's friend suggested we sit outside. We all got a table on the back deck and it was a perfect Austin night. Until we notice J's friend (the Queen Bee of the nasty 20-somethings) sitting at a distant picnic table and hurling. Lovely.

Yes, my friends... this is what life is like with the beautiful people.

Date 80 - Tyrannosaurus Wreck

2006-03-07T12:41:00.000-06:00

originally posted Tuesday, March 07, 2006

My recent work has been so well received by the muckety mucks that I almost have a little free time. Not really, but compared to la vida loca, it seems that way. Heck, my elbows are even healing! So, when T asked if I had time to grab some sushi last night after work, and I realized I actually could spare an hour or two, I thought, "why not?".

Since this was going to be a completely impromptu blind date, I didn't feel like much additional effort was warranted regarding my appearance. I did a little retouch on my makeup and I was still fairly presentable from my day at the office. I'd already changed into play clothes and felt fine about that. Cute skirt and sandals, very casual.

I arrived a few minutes ahead of schedule and was perusing the list of UT informal classes while waiting for him. They've got the beginner's golf class I was hoping for, but who knows... maybe I'll try breakdancing instead. You never know when you're going to have a dance-off in the streets old school style like Electric Boogaloo.

I saw T arrive and painstakingly park his late model silver muscle car.

He walked into the restaurant and I felt it.

It was electric.
I knew in an instant.

This was going to be painful.

He wasn't equipped for this date. It wasn't fair. I'm usually not one to make snap judgements; I'm much more open minded. I have warmed up to people that I felt no connection with. Heck, the Snake completely alienated me on our first date, and not only did I give him another chance, I eventually fell for him! I can tell right off the bat though. T is basic addition for first grade while I'm a quadratic equation... with lots of exponents.

The first thing I noticed was his mechanical stiffness. The second thing I noticed was his oddly shaped head. Kind of like a volleyball that was a little deflated, as if the bottom his face was slowly leaking air. He shook my hand and I'm not sure what was going on there... perhaps he had purchased a shirt with extra long sleeves? His hand was covered by the cuff. Maybe they were french cuffs that were too sophisticated for him? It gave the impression that he must have tiny withered arms like a tyrannasaurus rex.

We walked to our table and ordered two glasses of plum wine. My friends will tell you that I only occasionally partake of adult beverages, but I didn't hesitate for an instant. It was clear that I would need all the help I could get in order to navigate this date for the both of us. I ordered our sushi and let the punishment begin.

He droned on about his work for the government... it's NOT interesting. I have a feeling this guy could suck the fun and fascination out of even the sexiest of topics. I prodded him along. He mentioned his hobby of racing his car on a local track. Great - a hobby! I can work with this! But no, now we've somehow regressed to his weekly bible study group. Fantastic. He's very active within his Southern Baptist community.

No, really, I'm glad that he's found Jesus. I just realize that I've been snookered. This guy isn't even slightly related to the impression he was trying to give online. I knew in a heartbeat that we were worlds apart. I'm sure he's got a good heart and is a very good person. My world isn't necessarily better than his; he's just in a galaxy far, far away from mine.

We survive dinner and I'm attempting a jedi mind trick on the waiter so he'll bring the check and I can back to my life. After waiting several moments listening to him chatter about his ex wife, while he took no notice of the check whatsoever, I fished out my credit card and plunked it down on the table to stop the insanity.

He snapped back to reality and asked, "Oh, we're going to split this, aren't we?" Thought to self: "Well, I actually thought you might buy since you asked me, but I'm willing to consider this a penalty tax for going out with a clueless dolt like you." He puts in a $20. It won't be enough to cover his half with tip, but I'm happy not to be buying for both of us anymore.

T is a good guy... he's just clueless and a little awkward. He's kind enough to ask if he can escort me to my car, and I'm happy to see that his mama brought him up right afterall. It was nice to meet him, even if he's not for me. I'll say a little prayer that a good, simple woman comes his way soon.

The Week in Review

2006-03-04T12:37:00.000-06:00

originally posted Saturday March 4, 2006

It's been a full week, as usual. One sign that you've been working too much: bed sores on your elbows. It's actually gotten that bad. No one should bleed on their desk at work. No one!

I was up working on a deadline for my freelance project until about 2:00am on Monday night. Putting together the big deliverable for the muckety-mucks and sending it off at the final hour. Can I get a "hell yeah!" for Pacific Time? I don't know what I'd do without that 2 hour time difference. I cannot bring myself to bust ass like this for my current day job, but this sense of accomplishment is addictive.

Tuesday evening I attended Brian Green's SPARK lecture on physics downtown at the Paramount. It was excellent, but I'm sure I would have enjoyed it more if I was operating on more than 4 hours of sleep. How do people with children function?!

Wednesday afternoon's job interview went very well. I got the "call back" while still in the interview. Excellent! That's like getting asked out on a second date before your dessert arrives. Always a good sign. Also, I broke things off with J; feels good to have that taken care of. If it's not working, it's not working.

Thursday I got to catch up with a fabulous girlfriend over a leisurely lunch outside at Z Tejas. It was so nice to sit outside and enjoy a little fresh air and feel like one of those ladies who lunch... even if I don't have that luxury in real life. The dreaded post-lunch meeting with my manager went well. I'm not sure if she was just too sick to spew her usual venom or if I should attribute that to my glass of chardonnay.

After work, I managed to get a last minute haircut at Jackson Ruiz, thanks to their new location on Burnet. I had no idea that they even had a second location (evidently fairly new). Jessica gave me an awesome cut to get me ready for my hot date on Friday.

Friday was less than productive. I don't know if it was allergies or the return of cloudy weather, but God help me I could NOT get a thing done at work. I found myself trolling the online dating website. I figure I'm pretty much done with internet dating, but I might as well squeeze a few more from the ringer before my subscription runs out.

Friday night's date was at Jeffrey's. I was so excited about finally "dining" there. [Begin Thurston Howell III voice here: "One doesn't eat at Jeffrey's, one dines, lovey."] I had such a great time with P from Houston on our first date a few weeks back, I knew this would be a good time, but I was still a little anxious. I knew he'd be dressed to the nines. Oh, the trials of keeping up with a metrosexual!

I decided on a little black halter dress and hopefully pulled off a look that was something between Ginger from Gilligan's Island and Audrey Hepburn. I love that P isn't at all sensitive about being vertically challenged. This dress required my black mother of pearl heels and purse to complete the look. Polished.

The food was divine, until about halfway through dinner when I noticed the Snake sitting on the opposite side of the restaurant. I wasn't sure it was him at first; he's definitely put on some weight. Profile is a tough angle for anyone, but it was especially unfortunate for him. He really is beginning to look like Walter Mathau. How did I possibly have it so bad for this guy? And why did my heart rate go up when I saw him? At least I didn't feel like I had to throw up like the last time he crossed my path.

I was distracted by the Snake, but P was so sweet, charming, gracious and handsome it helped me focus on the positive. Love the one you're with! I was out with a dashing gentleman who clearly appreciates me and enjoys my company. I'm not sure what it is about P (maybe the distance?) but I feel like a softer version of myself when I'm with him. I just open to him like a flower in bloom.

After dinner, we headed to the Driskill for drinks. We were mooning over each other a bit at this point - the mutual admiration society! P can't understand why some man hasn't swept me off my feet yet. The bar was filled with the usual assortment of Austinites and tourists, but the male specimens were indicative (in-dick-ative?) of my ongoing singleton status.

Exhibit A-hole: The cocky jackholes in their late 20's/early 30's wearing striped shirts and too much product in their painstakingly spiked hair. They're obnoxious, generally ignorant and completely self absorbed. Their latest read was about the best pick up lines in Details or calf implants in Men's Health. No depth, just dearth. No deal.

Next we have the early to late 30's men wearing suits. They've stepped up a notch in their attire and their choices in adult beverages match. They fancy themselves international playboys and make every attempt to have the appropriate arm candy accessory. As I'm making my point, the publisher of a local business magazine sidles up to the bar with his entourage. I've met him before at a party. I wanted to be impressed, but alas was not. All flash, no substance. They're smug and arrogant, not engaging at all. I'm just not interested. Perhaps there's a real person somewhere underneath that facade, but I don't have the wherewithall to find out.

P is the man that these boys are not. P seems just as open to me as I am to him. We talk about stuff that matters, but there's plenty of fluff and gloss too. We're playful. It's a good balance and he's great company. He's already talking about us taking a trip to the Caymans, and it sounds fun to me. When he drove me back to my car, I was happy to smooch him. It was nice. I still don't want to get involved in anything long distance, but we've clearly established a nice bond as friends and maybe that's all we'll turn out to be.

... So that's the news from the dating trenches! I'm off to get ready to attend a party full of gay men and rugby players tonight. Hopefully it won't be all gay rugby players... not that there's anything wrong with that. Actually, there is something logistically wrong with that - I want to meet somebody who's actually playing for my team.

Surrender to the setup

2006-02-23T12:35:00.000-06:00

originally posted Thursday, February 23, 2006

I went out last night to see Surrender Avenue at Room 710. The band was so much better than any of the demos on the website and I really enjoyed the show. Great guitar work, and a diverse set that included lots of 80's influences like REM and the Smithereens.

I should have stayed home. I didn't have time to go out last night. I was overtired and should have been home working on a deadline, but sometimes I'm a petulant 3 year old instead of a responsible 32 year old.

I don't wanna work tonight! You can't make me!!!!
I wanna go out and play! ...
and the only way I'm able to rally for whatever I'm procrastinating about is to just give in a little and get it out of my system. So, I hauled my sorry self downtown. Aside from wanting to see and support the band, I wanted to catch up with some other friends that I just don't get to see often enough.

It was fun to see some people I hadn't seen in forever and a day and catch up on what's going on in their lives. A much, much younger former coworker was there and although it was fun talking (and flirting?) with him, it also felt pretty creepy. This guy always comes across as a decade older than he really is. Somehow, I always forget that. He's perfectly legal, mind you, but that doesn't make it right.

We were chatting a little too long and I had a bit too much (ok, alot too much) to drink. Why is there such a tight coupling between attraction and alcohol intake? *sigh*

I do know better though and thankfully, Carrie rescued us from walking out at the same time. I had already stayed far past my intended time but paradoxically, it would be safer for me to walk back to my car alone. Unfortunately, this rescue also included an extra dollop of humiliation.

God bless Carrie. She means well. She was having a really tough night though and somehow she became hell bent on marketing (nay, pimping!) me to her friend Mike. He's a cute guy. He seemed nice enough and took it like a champ, but I felt so bad for him. It was so painfully awkward.

If the guy had an interest, he would have made a move on his own. If he had even the slightest interest, it's probably been squelched by the hard sell. What could the poor guy do when Carrie was so being insistent? I'm all for meeting new people and I'm not adverse to being set up by friends but it doesn't exactly bolster my personal brand when I'm being forced on some innocent bystander like produce past its prime.

Date 81 - Ticket to Nowhere

2006-02-19T12:36:00.000-06:00

originally posted Sunday, February 19, 2006

M had been trying to get me to meet him for a week or two. I've been insanely busy with the day job and consulting on the side, hitting the gym, physical therapy appointments and life in general.

I know better than to give an unproven commodity access to prime time, but I felt so bad at having turned down all his previous requests that when he asked me out early in the week for Saturday night, I gave him dibs. He got on my calendar early -- that's probably the hardest part of dating me. The same day I turned down at least 3 other offers for Saturday night. First come, first served.

It was a full day: walking the dog, hitting the gym, shopping for and attending yet another bridal shower. I just wanted a nap, but instead I went home and hopped in the shower then put myself together for the date and debated my options in footwear.

I can't wear my killer boots because M is a shorty at 5'9" or 5'10". He's a software engineer with an interest in salsa dancing and is newly transplanted from Chicago. I opted for some chic pointy flats which should work well in case we decided to hit the dance floor later in the evening.

It was freezing cold last night. Austin has been having some freakish weather lately. 80 degrees one day, 40 degrees the next. Now it's drizzling and hovering in the low 30's. I wanted to look a little sexy, but didn't want to completely freeze.

I finally settled on a leather jacket that works with my outfit, should keep me warm, and isn't too over the top. Grabbed my car keys, said adios to the dog and I was on my way to Malaga for some red wine and tapas. Two minutes after getting on the freeway, my cell phone buzzed to let me know I got a message.

The voicemail is from M. He's canceling.

15 minutes before I'm supposed to meet him downtown.

I'm less than thrilled.

His excuse is extreme. I've never had anyone pull a card like this before - this is either completely true or total crap. For the first 5 seconds of the voicemail I'm sympathetic. Then something clicks in my gut and I call bullshit. I listened to rest of the message but only really heard "blah, blah, blah".

Someone has had a miscarriage and he's out at some bar with the woman's brother offering sympathy and a shoulder to cry on. Wow.

Since I'm out, dressed and on the road, I call a good friend to let him know I'm headed to his regular watering hole and that dinner's on me. He listens to the voicemail too and has a similar reaction. He's not able to decide whether or not this guy is for real. It really could go either way.

So, here's your option to weigh in. I'm currently on the fence. Should this guy get a second chance to make a first impression? Leave a comment.

Date 82 - Trulucky

2006-02-10T12:33:00.000-06:00

originally posted Friday, February 10, 2006

Last night's date with P was a long time in the making. We've been chatting for so long that I wasn't nervous at all. I knew it was going to feel more like Old Home Week than a first date. Besides, who's got time to be nervous when I'm working so much that the days run together? Lately it's a good day when I can find a spare 15 minutes to shower.

Recently, all my deadlines have been converging to make the perfect storm. Hurricane Annabelle. Bleh! It was nice to have a fun excuse to put myself together for a change.

I hurried home, took care of the dog, hopped in the shower and contemplated my wardrobe while drying my hair and slapping a little makeup on my face. How is it possible to feel so unfashionable with such a full closet? I knew P was going to be a bit metro sexual so I wanted to look pulled together. Most guys don't care if you're wearing a paper bag (so long as it's revealing in the right places), but I knew P would be more savvy than that. I pulled together an "of the moment" look with some beige suede knee high boots, sassy skirt, sheer silk crepe top and a fitted denim blazer and then high tailed it downtown to Truluck's.

I walked inside and took a quick look around, then saw his friendly wave from the bar. Not only did he look exactly like his pictures, but he has a really warm and engaging smile. I knew we were going to have a fun evening.

A financial analyst from Houston, P was exactly as tall (short!) as advertised. His dark hair, goatee and deep olive complexion made his light blue green eyes captivating... but almost in a freakish way. I think they actually changed color over the course of the evening, but initially I wondered if he was wearing colored contacts. He had a "Mr. Freeze" thing going on.

Well dressed and well mannered, P was warm and friendly. He seemed so sincere in his many compliments that I really believed he thought I was gorgeous. He made me feel gorgeous... like he was so thrilled to be out and be seen with me. My beautiful hair... my soft but piercing eyes... my lovely smile... my exotic look (that was a new one). That may even have been true but I'm savvy enough to know that men who love women are usually expert marksmen with a compliment.

He ordered us a lovely bottle of cab and a plate of seared tuna to start with. Our conversation was all over the place and we were laughing along through dinner. Film, religion (Lutherans in particular), skiing, spirituality, education, ethnicity and language... it was interesting and effortless. I can't believe he forgot to bring the ring... he was supposed to ask me to marry him (we'd been joking about that for some time). After a wonderful filet for him and crab stuffed snapper for me we decided to share a dessert. I've never seen a man look at a dessert tray with such unadulterated lust; this man has a special relationship with chocolate.

Boxing up our dessert for later, we adjourned to Ringside for an after dinner drink but were rebuffed by the lack of live music. P seized the opportunity to kiss me then. It was nice... but with me in the boots it was definitely a Tom Cruise / Nicole Kidman thing happening.

We came back to Truluck's to enjoy the soft piano and have another drink. At which point we got to the topic of politics. Of course, someone so well off from Houston is bound to be a Republican. (sigh) ... and he was doing so well. It's not a fatal flaw, but we certainly don't share the same perspective.

I was a little concerned (but not overly) about the amount of alcohol he was consuming over the course of the evening but he seemed confident and comfortable with it. Scotch before dinner, a bottle of red (minus my glass), port with dessert, and another Scotch. I left him to drive back to his hotel while I headed over to Iron Cactus to meet up with some law students having a charity event there

All in all, it was a very fun and pleasant date. I wish he lived in Austin... or I could find more men of his caliber locally. P wants to go out again. I'm not headed to Houston anytime soon, but if I'm not involved with anyone and he wants to take me out for another nice dinner, I certainly won't object.

Cease and desist?

2006-02-03T12:34:00.000-06:00

originally posted Friday, February 03, 2006

A hot guy friend thinks I'm on my way to acquiring a fatal flaw.
...like you can have only one!...

Somehow he's got the notion that by the end of 100 First Dates I'm going to turn into Emily Dickinson. My first reaction was "Sweet! I'll get some serious royalties!" Until he reminded me of the complete isolation and the probability of lots of cats.... "Ummmm, ok... not so much..."

Maybe there's something to it though. I was thinking about the concepts of protection and defensiveness last night. I'm definitely more protective of myself than I used to be. I've got a candy coating now that I didn't have before. I used to just melt right in your hand. Messy.

I haven't been feeling much of anything lately. Perhaps because I'm working so much. Perhaps it's because with the kind of volume involved in 100 First Dates, I cut out the emotional middleman and pass the savings onto YOU!

I have been a bit concerned lately that I might be evolving into an emotional robot. J (the nice guy who lingers on) cancelled our date on Wednesday due to a schedule conflict, so when D (whom I haven't gone out with since sometime in December)continued to pester me for a date I finally agreed to see him again. It was really nice. Very comfortable. Very generic. Very hollow.

Seriously though, maybe he's onto something here though; I have to give this some serious thought. I hadn't really ever considered that going on 100 First Dates might be damaging me.

The alternative might be finally finishing all my home improvement projects and inviting Better Homes and Gardens over for the photo spread. Or getting back to my vocal projects or other artistic endeavors.

What do you think? I'm only 1/5 of the way done.

Date 83: Fashion yes, Passion eh.....?

2006-01-21T12:32:00.000-06:00

originally posted Saturday, January 21, 2006

It's Saturday afternoon. I just got in from brunch and heard that it's officially on with the muckety-mucks! Next week I'll be chowing on a very expensive steak or slab o' fresh fish with some corporate big wigs while I sing for my supper by telling them about how wonderful and knowledgeable I am in my particular niche of expertise and all the cool stuff I can do for them.

This could be it. I may be breaking through the glass ceiling and headed for an executive office for the first time in my life. After struggling with my fashion selections for this week's interview with a different company, I decided it's probably time to splurge on something a little more hip in the way of suits. Although I haven't worn one regularly for ages, I have several that are just fine, thank you very much. They do the job. They convey competence and professionalism but they're not very sophisticated. Not sassy. Not sexy. Not "apprentice-y" enough.

This is the big league. I will NOT be under dressed. I want these guys to fall in love with me... in whatever way is necessary. I'm trolling Ann Taylor online (please, cross your fingers that my order arrives in time!) when lo and behold I hear from F.

F is yet another random internet guy who's been itching to meet me for ages. He seems cool enough. Works in tech. Drives a mini-cooper convertible. Super positive and friendly... but not in the annoying nice guy way. Every time he offers to take me to dinner, I'm booked solid even way in advance. This time I told him if he twisted my arm I'd meet him for a drink. I'm feeling spontaneous. Afterall, I've got to head out to Banana Republic in the Arboretum to peruse their suit selections and see if there's anything ripe for the plucking. Then I've got a party to go to.

Win-win. Another drive-by date. The more I date, the more important I feel it is to keep these initial meetings short and sweet. We plan to meet at NXNW at 5:45. I'm there, he's not. I go to the bathroom and fluff my hair up, check my makeup. I'm aight.

I sit down at a high-top, order a hard cider and break out my calendar. If I'm going to be sitting here alone, I might as well make the time productive. F finally arrives and holy cow, he's actually cute. I mean, he truly does look better in person than in his photo! He's a shortie, but I knew that going in.

He sits down, orders himself a beer and we're lost in chatter for over an hour. We get a second round. It's home improvement horror stories, tales of procrastination and woe. Family talk about fertility and nieces and nephews. Moving downtown and the Austin real estate market. The holiday recap, et cetera. I'm actually having fun. I feel bad that we both have someplace else we need to be. But that's a good thing... always leave 'em wanting more.

He grabs the check. There's some mention of dinner when my schedule calms down again. He walks me to my car. He misses my cue for the half hug and takes my hand. Ugh! Now I have to do the lean in hug while he's still got my hand. (Sigh) Awkward. Just when I thought things were looking up...

...but I'm off to buy myself a sexy suit.

Date 84 - Express Lane

2006-01-17T12:31:00.000-06:00

originally posted Tuesday, January 17, 2006

M is yet another in the endless parade of random internet men. He's been chatting me up for ages now, probably going on a year. We've even spoken on the phone before. Every once in awhile he gets a wild hair and pushes to meet me in person.

Today was his lucky day.

With the way things have been plodding along with J, I figured I could use a little spike of adrenaline. I've got job interviews and executive pitches to make for work this week. It's high stress and my self esteem could use a little boost. Nothing like an extra deposit of confidence in the ego account to put a little swagger in your step.

I was nervous though. As soon as I realized I was going to do this my hands went cold and I started to sweat. The ongoing flirtation with M is fun and men never measure up to their online personas. A part of me wants to get it over with though so there won't be any impropriety when (if?) things continue to progress with J. I took some solace in knowing this was just going to be a "quickie". I had an appointment to go to afterwards, so we agreed to keep it brief. A drive-by date, if you will.

I strolled into Whole Foods in the Arboretum and pushed my way through the patchouli scented crowd towards the sandwich counter. How on earth is it this crowded in the middle of the day? Don't these hippies work for a living? He saw me first. I expected he would since he's seen more pictures of me.

No matter how many times I do this, I never cease to be amazed at how wildly men differ from their pictures in real life. Are they kings of Photoshop? Royalty of retouching? Clearly there was never any reason to get worked up.

I remind myself that I'm wearing clogs so I'm probably clocking in at 6' even. M is still taller than me but he's slouchy and not the 6'5" he claimed. He's .... well.... how to put this? It could have been an optical illusion with the clothes he was wearing, but he's oddly shaped. A doughy physique must be an occupational hazard for musical composers.

He's obviously brilliant. His wit is as evident in person as online. We have some kind of sado-masochistic spark but the whole date feels more odd and awkward for me. He's much more into this than I am. I'm curious but a bit freaked. He's just enjoying this and hoping for more. I'm just wishing I could go back to the time when his rich dreamy caramel voice was all I knew of him.

Date 85 - Eager Beaver

2005-12-30T12:31:00.000-06:00

Friday, December 30, 2005

C started corresponding with me right before the holidays and I was flattered by his interest. He wrote well, indicating a modicum of intelligence. His profile seemed good natured, well rounded and compelling...but there are some things that just don't come across online. In C's case that was to his benefit.

I didn't even get a chance to get out of my car in the parking lot of Sushi Sake before C pounced on me. He was definitely enthusiastic. He actually seemed to be as tall as advertised, but only vaguely resembled his picture.

When we got inside, it seemed like he'd never actually been to a restaurant before. How hard is it to say "two, please"? Since he just looked at the hostess dumbfounded I was stuck with that and specifying a table vs. sushi bar and then asking for a booth. It turns out that C isn't too familiar with sushi. That's simultaneous demerits for lack of worldliness and bonus points for being easy going and having a sense of culinary adventure. Spicy Susan, Yokohama, escarel and unagi: although I didn't mind ordering for us both, it definitely made me feel like a man. At least he picked up the check!

C was good natured, but awkward. I thought it was because he wasn't interested. Right out of the gate, he used the "tell me all about you" routine. Perhaps you're familiar with it. It's the sad ploy whereby men who aren't attracted to you try to get you chattering so they don't have to engage in actual conversation with you. While you're talking, they hear Charlie Brown chatter (wah,wah....wah-wah-wah-wahhhh....) and only pay enough attention to ask the next question based on the last 3 words you spoke.

I was shocked when he asked to see me again.

It was obvious that C wasn't the guy for me. He's nice and sweet but there's not much to him. There was too much of a Leave It To Beaver quality about him for me to have any interest. Although he might not know it himself, I know who he's supposed to be with. He belongs with the doughy fat girl in an apron. A homebody. An Aunt Bea wannabe. Someone who watches soap operas, reads the latest Danielle Steele books and has a passion for baked goods and cleaning products.

....that is so NOT me.

Suicide Watch

2005-12-28T12:30:00.000-06:00

originally posted Wednesday, December 28, 2005

Current mood: uppity

It's the holiday trifecta: Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years...and everyone is freaking out.

"Oh my god! You're in town for the holiday? ....What?!?! And you're spending it alone? ... And you intend to actually get some stuff done on the ACTUAL HOLIDAY?!?! Nooooooo!"

What is wrong with people? Can't a busy girl get some peace and quiet? A little "alone time" if you will? I'm a happy girl. Do these people think the moment I'm alone I'm going to OD on Aleve in a feeble attempt to "stop the insanity"?

It just so happens that Christmas came early for me this year. I made a conscious choice to enjoy what little down time I'd have before the New Year and the chaos of three more freelance projects. I've been looking forward to this time alone for weeks now. I know I'm not going to have time for sleep or proper hygiene in another week, so I'm savoring every moment of solitude now.

It's nothing personal people; I'd just rather be alone doing my low-key thing and enjoying my freedom instead of eating your holiday ham and sweet potatoes with a side of lame-neighbors-you-barely-know and an extra helping of dysfunctional-family-awkwardness.

Note to boys: It might be different if we were having an actual relationship, or you had asked me in advance. Asking me over on Christmas eve doesn't count when you knew I was going to be here a month in advance. And I DON'T want to meet your family!

Thanks for the invitation, but when I decline, please just accept it graciously so we can still be friends.

Making Merry

2005-12-11T12:30:00.000-06:00

originally posted Sunday, December 11, 2005

Finally... I am vindicated! I didn't get to go out for Halloween this year because of my crazy hip injury, but I got my costume fix for the year anyway as one of more than 150 Santas rampaging through downtown. It was an awesome time. Very "weird"...which we love here in Austin, TX.

It was exactly what I needed until I saw "the Snake" at the final bar of the evening. I went from 100% fun to feeling like I had to hurl. Unbelievable. I didn't speak to him or interact in any way. I'd like to think he didn't see me, but I'm sure he probably did. I tried to suck it up and just have a good time, but I caved in and bolted. ...and then felt like a total jackass for continuing to give him power over me... for letting him win.

Another Santa offered consolation to me on the long walk back to my car. He was very sweet, and perhaps he'll be the next of 100 first dates. My heart wasn't in it when he smooched me, but it did help take my mind off of the Snake. It was nice to be reminded that there are plenty of great men out there that want to be with me, and that I've already given a certain reptilian robot too much free rent.

Date 86 - Benny Ha-Ha

2005-12-06T12:29:00.000-06:00

originally posted Tuesday, December 06, 2005

Working over 100 hours a week is bound to put a cramp in anyone's dating calendar. J has been trying to meet me for ages so to celebrate a major milestone with my freelance work and the return of some free time to my schedule I finally agreed to meet him last night.

It was freezing last night so I channeled any blind date nervousness into my selection of footwear. Since J clocks in at 6'4" I figured it was safe to finally break out a pair of my new fabulous black suede knee high boots. Not that he would see them under my jeans, but it was an opportunity to wear heels for a change and I didn't want to pass that up. Precariously perched atop the 3" heels, I was feeling confident and sassy. Maybe it was because I didn't really need this date. Maybe because it was so impromptu.

Earlier in the afternoon we were debating having drinks vs. dinner when J had the brilliant idea to go to Benihana. Japanese dinner AS theater! Much better than the fairly generic Arboretum locations we were thinking of. I knew it would be a great meal and it definitely sent the signal that he wasn't afraid to spend a little coin on a random internet girl - always a good sign.

I arrived promptly at 6:30 and the place was a ghost town. I spot J sitting up in the bar. I'm assuming it was him since he was the only man in the place and bore ever-the-slightest resemblance to the pictures I'd seen. What is it about men putting ancient pictures on dating websites?

We sat down to dinner with our chef of questionable ethnicity, "Kreeeees". Hailing from "San Antokyo", we speculated that he was either from some little known Eurasian country or a combination of places. Maybe he was Spench or Franish? J was working on a beer and my glass of Pinot shattered any unwillingness to chat. We shared war stories, dodged flying shrimp and laughed our way through dinner. J was a great sport but missed an opportunity to lob a compliment my way when the woman seated to my left commented on my beauty. Poor guy... she beat him to the punch.

We were still in full swing when J got the check. Now we had to determine what the next venue would be. Neither one of us wanted to drink more, so we were going to head to Chez Zee to sit and chat a bit more, but then we realized that Waterloo was practically next door so that seemed a better choice. We chatted and laughed some more. Turns out we share some of the same goals.

J isn't a sexy man, but he is attractive. There's something very warm and inviting about him. He's a solid guy. Although he never went to college he's done very well for himself. He's obviously smart, stable and ambitious but without the razor sharp edge. He still seems relaxed and laid back.

He asked for my number a couple of times during the evening but somehow I managed to deflect him without realizing I had even done it. Bad form on my part. He pressed again at the end of the evening and I managed to find a card to give him.

J's a great guy. I'm not sure our Venn diagram overlaps enough for anything long term, but he was a wonderful date and I'm very glad to have met him.

Fulfillment

2005-12-02T12:28:00.000-06:00

originally posted Friday, December 02, 2005

I've been putting off writing about this because I didn't want to jinx it...
I am absolutely exhausted. I've been burning the midnight oil all week. It's gotten to the point where I now need tooth picks to keep my eyes open, but I am happier right now than I've been in years.

I'm finally working on something that has re-ignited my inner flame. My passion for my work used to be a beautiful thing. It was a big roaring fire that was eventually reduced to faintly glowing embers and ash.

I came to Austin over 5 years ago and the tech sector imploded. I've been lucky enough to continue to find work in my specialty (and a somewhat steady but occasionally interrupted income) but there's a big difference between working on something just to pay the bills and working on something you're fired up about.

I've been settling for so long now I was starting to think about exploring a different career path. Dog walker? Hair stylist? Hot dog vendor? Concubine? Oooh, wait... I could be a Hot Dog Vendor / Concubine!

Now I realize I don't need to throw in the towel just yet. It turns out I actually still LOVE what I do; I just hate my current day job. No resources to do actual work. No respect. No appreciation. No stimulation. No innovation. No opportunity for advancement.

The freelance gig is all contrast to that. Freedom. Excitement. Autonomy. Responsibility. Respect. Appreciation for my efforts. (Not to mention a little extra cash flow!)

I'm riding high. My personal stock is up and I'm getting contacted about other positions (some at the current company, some at other places). The best part is that right now I've got the luxury of staying in the current job and trying to find a great fit in the next job! This time I'm going to try to find the right position for a change instead of just finding a paycheck.

(...and the best thing about burning the candle at both ends to do this freelance gig is that I couldn't care less about my love life right now! Turns out when I'm feeling fulfilled with my work, the lack of a man in my life barely registers on my radar. Which helps explain why I was single through most of my 20's...)

Stuffing the holiday bird

2005-11-25T12:27:00.000-06:00

originally posted Friday, November 25, 2005

What is it that drives boyfriends from the past to contact you on the holidays? I know the triptophan in turkey induces sleepiness and the occasional couch-bound coma, but come on! Are these guys so lonely? Not banging anyone at the moment and hoping to stuff my turkey for the holiday? ...and yes, I learned that terminology in charm school, thank you very much!

J gives me a holiday shout out, hoping to meet me for coffee if I'm anywhere near him. That's easy enough to ignore given the way things wrapped up that last time I saw him. Delete!

Then today my email inbox shows a message from a name I'm NOT pleased to see. I last saw "The Snake" in July or August... it's much harder to ignore... he's local and it's taken lots of effort for me to move along. I still think about him and I don't want to squander the progress I've made... more importantly I don't want to further abuse my friends by subjecting them to any future tales of woe as a result of having the snake in my life. They've already suffered more than enough.

The timing is interesting though. The snake always did have a naturally sadistic spidey sense. The boy I jettisoned this week reminded me a little of him -- enough that when I was telling someone about the demise of this budding relationship I accidentally slipped up and usedthe snake's name. Doh! Paging Dr. Freud.... Dr. Freud, please pick up the white courtesy phone! Then next thing I know, I've got an email from the Snake. I should have just deleted it but morbid curiosity got the better of me.

Why the hell should this even register on my radar (except that in the past I had it bad for him)? He wasn't asking to start back up with me. He wasn't actually asking anything of me. This requires NO ACTION on my part but I'm still riled up about it. At least I finally feel marginally vindicated to have a shred of evidence that he's thinking about me after all this time, that I had some minimal effect on him, somewhere deep in the tiny memory chip of his robotic heart. I guess that's something. It's not much, and it's not enough, but it's something.

Why can't two arms and two legs be enough?

2005-11-22T12:26:00.000-06:00

originally posted Tuesday, November 22, 2005

I'm at the gym working out with Nikki. I'm cranky because this pesky hip injury is still preventing me from my normal work out routine. Nikki was kind enough to let me join up with her and lift some weights.

If I do any strength training it's usually at home. I normally stick to the classes and avoid the weight area of the gym. There are too many freak-a-zoids on steroids for my taste. Excessively bleached blondes with big buoyant boobies and painfully painted faces. Spandex. Lycra. Thongs. Need I say more?

I do a little cardio on a recumbent bike before lifting and already my hip is throbbing. Will I ever be normal again? And what the hell happened to my hip to begin with? It's not like I'm 80!

I'm making the rounds on the machines with Nikki. It's not too bad. I'm remembering how strong I feel when I'm lifting. It's a good feeling. Not good enough to offset the 10 lbs I've gained since being injured though... but that's why I'm here, isn't it? Nikki is doing a double set of lat pull downs and I opt to walk a quick lap around the track while I'm waiting for her to finish. That's when I see him.

The first thing I notice is his oversized T-shirt. It reads, "Smoke a Fatty!". Yeah, that's classy. He definitely belongs here in the weight area! Then, as I pass him I realize something isn't right. I can see through his knees! Oh my god, the guy is bionic! He's got flesh tone racing legs! That's awesome! Then I glance up and I notice he has no arms either. He has nubs. They end maybe 3 or 4 inches above where his elbows should be and I see all of this without really looking, as I'm passing him on the track.

Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. This guy has no arms, no legs and he's in the gym on a Monday night lifting weights! I have the audacity to complain about a bum hip and this guy has no real appendages to speak of and he's happily working out!

What the hell is wrong with me that I can't just BE HAPPY! I have arms! I have legs! Mostly, all my parts are present and in good working condition.

Yes, I am a smidge heavier than I should be, or want to be.
Yes, I tend to date flawed men with odd proclivities and an inability to emotionally connect.
But why the hell can't I just be happy with that? Why can't I just work hard at my job, exercise with focused intensity and lead a quiet life with my dog?

Why do I always want more?

Why can't two arms and two legs be enough?
Why can't a guy who has a good job, a modicum of intelligence and decent looks be enough?
Why can't I just be happy with a guy who tolerates my existence?
Why do I insist on being with someone who thinks I'm cute, is kind to me and physically affectionate?
Someone who WANTS to be with me? Someone capable of real emotional intimacy?

After leaving the gym, I spend some time with a guy who is smart, has a great job, is intelligent and decent looking.
... yet even after all that, it still isn't enough.

I get by with a little help from my friends

2005-11-21T12:25:00.000-06:00

originally posted Monday, November 21, 2005

I'm thankful for:

Dinner with S
Karaoke with C
The gym with N
Dinner conversation with S
Drinks with A
Indie / arty movies with J
Social commentary and discussion with L
and miscellaneous phone calls to catch up from A, T, and others...

I realize that my life is full and good.

My friends really get me and embrace me for all my weirdness. I get to fully be myself and each of them polishes a different facet of my personality.

I wonder if it's even possible for me to find a guy who can hang with this. I guess I've just come to the realization that I temper myself around guys I date. I tone it down so that they won't be too scared or threatened by my largesse. Maybe it's time to change that.

I don't seem to have a problem finding guys to date. I get along well with most people, but in order to find that snug Lego snap-click fit I might need to show my exotic dodecahedron shape.

On the other hand, maybe I just need to accept the revolving door with my relationships and be thankful that I've got such a great group of friends in my life. Boys come and go, but friends are there to stay.

Date 87 - More creative living through chemistry?

2005-11-12T12:24:00.000-06:00

originally posted Saturday, November 12, 2005

Despite my need for a break, I was eagerly anticipating my date with B this week. It would be a refreshing change to be out with a known entity and someone that has friends in common with me. Sure to be a good time and might be exactly the type of pick-me-up I needed.

B had a birthday this week and he offered up a nice and varied selection of different activities depending on the day that would work best for my schedule. Very thoughtful! Is that what happens when you hit 41?

We opted for a Friday night concert at the Glenn at the Backyard. The band Storyville was playing some kind of reunion show. I'm not familiar with the band, but I've seen lead singer Malford Milligan before and the guy absolutely rocks! My voice instructor asked me to go see him once as homework and I was awed. Malford puts it all out there - no holding back. It was a no-brainer to choose the concert.

When I arrived at the venue it was completely unrecognizable. This place used to be secluded. You could even see the stars in the sky in addition to the ones on stage. No longer. They've developed the hell out of the area now, and they're not quitting anytime soon. I wore sturdy shoes in anticipation of hiking a long distance from a remote parking spot but there was no need to since it's now surrounded by big strip malls and parking lots.

I was actually a little nervous pre-date, but I felt totally relaxed once I got there. B is not really physically remarkable: 5'10", brownish hair (what's left of it). He's a lot of fun though and that definitely ups his appeal: intelligent, politically aware and opinionated. Refreshing.

What wasn't refreshing was chemical ingestion prior to the show. It's certainly food for thought. I suppose it was good that he asked me if I minded him using something. I asked what the something was and he told me. Wow. Um...? Geez! Seriously? I wished he had just done it before I arrived so I wouldn't have to think about it. This was hard stuff. Scary stuff, in my opinion. It's thought provoking about where one draws the line. If alcohol is OK, or pot is OK, then what about harder things?

B is successful and self employed in a creative job. He's an impressive guy but the chemical usage immediately made me feel like we inhabited separate worlds. I envy the creative world he lives in and the freedom it gives him, but if this is what it means then maybe I am better off remaining a corporate drone.

Who am I to begrudge him his "birthday treat"? I had my own car, so I wouldn't have to worry about getting home safely, but I had to wonder how often he does this sort of thing and what it really does for him. Also, I can certainly understand wanting to have some caffeine or alcohol to help with a date (to bring the energy up, or round off any sharp edges) but is a date with me so stressful as to require hard drugs?

We grabbed some BBQ sandwiches inside and a couple of drinks and headed up to the stage. Storyville rocked. Dave, the lead guitarist was really impressive. It was a fun night. We stuck around a bit after the show and talked for awhile. He wanted to head somewhere else to hang out and talk more but I was pretty tired. I didn't notice any difference in his behavior over the course of the evening but sadly, the drugs definitely had the effect of changing my perception of him.

Working the system

2005-11-11T12:22:00.001-06:00

Well, so much for slowing it down to one track dating. I guess I got ahead of myself again. The sucky thing is I feel like I got stuck doing the dirty work in ending it. If they're not into it, why can't men just step up and be men? Like Paula Cole, I'm wondering, "Where have all the cowboys gone?"

It's gotten bad enough that like Maureen Dowd, I'm wondering, "Are Men Necessary?"

…and I LOVE MEN!!!!!

JM and I had a little IM-plosion yesterday. At some point things diverged and we wound up having two very different conversations. I think I've learned that men and women shouldn't send text or instant messages relating to dating or their relationships. There was a phone call last night that helped clarify things but I think the end result is that we're each better off on our own.

We've cancelled our plans for this Saturday, and my impression is that's it. I accidentally left my highly coveted and as yet unwatched Dane Cook DVD at his place, but he's agreed to drop it by my house sometime.

Just as well, I suppose. Regardless of how open minded I am, I'm not sure I'd be able to handle his inevitable kink... or that it would be good for my psyche long term. I think when you're exposed to weird things, it leaves an indelible mark on you that may linger much longer than your involvement with the person with the weird tendencies. So, maybe in this case it's better to end things before I start them. I'm still unmarked!

A close friend and confidant that I had dinner with last night reminded me that I'm doing the 100 First Dates for good reasons... and that JM was only one of remaining 80-something to go. Just because he came close to measuring up to my standards, and just because I'm tired isn't a good enough reason to stop working the system. I guess I've got to have a little faith. In the odds... in the system... in myself.

At least I've got tomorrow's date with B to look forward to. I know we're going to have a great time; he's a known entity from one of my social circles and always a hoot.

Of Drama Kings and other things

2005-11-11T12:22:00.000-06:00

originally posted Friday, November 11, 2005

One of the many adored men in my life sent me an awesome article on Drama Kings. The article isn't even so much about these strangelings... it's about the hard rockin', fiercely strong women who have to deal with these yahoos.

As I read it, I recognized more than one guy I've been involved with (the Nublet, the Snake, and the latest: Tattoo) and it was wonderful to realize the truth. As much as dealing with them sucked, I did emerge even stronger than before. It's also getting much easier to walk away. I'm just not willing to take the more difficult aspects of my being or my personality and tamp them down or suck it up to be with a man. Especially one that's weaker than me, incapable of real intimacy or just full of general chaos and drama. Who needs it? I'm just not interested, life is too short but good and I love who I am.

I also really love and adore men. I work with wonderful men all day long. I've got lots of awesome male friends. I'm lucky to have such really great guys in my life. They seem to love and adore me as much as I do them. They accept the whole of me; they just don't seem to wind up in the romantic / relationship area of my life.

I was questioning the amount of effort and energy I've been putting into the quest of 100 First Dates recently. I felt like it's taken over too much. Normal people don't put this much effort into things, why do I? One of these wonderful men responded, "because you've already done everything else; having a healthy and meaningful intimate relationship is on your list of things to do." He also reminded me that by going through this, I'm learning so much more about myself, regardless of what happens with any of the men.

The majority of my "issues" with men would probably be solved if I could just be more Zen and accept the impermanence of love these days. There's a Buddhist exercise about detachment that basically has you imagine anything (anyone?) you love in ruins so that you won't be too attached to things and will really appreciate them "in the now". A favorite vase that you love? It's in shards on the floor. A gorgeous car? Completely wrecked. Life still goes on and is just as beautiful.

A woman interviewed in the article (divorced and happily living alone) hit the nail on the head when she said this:
"I'm not saying forever on this - I love men, I love sex. I love being in love. But I've found the notion of one man way more appealing than the reality of being with any of the men I've been out with."

All I can say to that is "Amen, sister! Amen."

Fatigue Sets In: 100 First Dates Moratorium?

2005-11-08T12:21:00.000-06:00

originally posted Tuesday, November 08, 2005

I'm tired... oh so tired. I think the last date countdown was #88, which means I've only made it through 13 first dates.... (sigh). Remember, we're only counting the first timers here - not the repeat offenders!

I still think the 100 First Dates is a good idea. I'm just thinking maybe it's time for a breather. I'll continue with any first dates that are currently on the agenda. I'm already scheduled for a first date with B to celebrate his birthday this week, so I'll definitely do that but I'm thinking of putting a freeze on new applicants until I can process the current workload and move on.

There are several reasons for this:
My house is in disarray - The Pergo floor is tantalizingly close to being complete. The guest bath is in a state of disrepair: floor ripped up, gaping hole in the wall where the hideous built in fluorescent light fixture used to be, exposed drywall everywhere since I ripped down the wallpaper. Given a little leisure time I can fix all of this and enjoy the fruits of my labor! This means I won’t be so embarrassed when I have company over, and dates won’t be intimidated by my prowess with power tools.

My work life is in flux - I just accepted some freelance work on the side. Thank god it's an interesting, stimulating and meaningful project. Afterall, that's why I got into this business to begin with! Meanwhile, my day job sucketh my will to live. After a short and demotivating conversation with my manager yesterday, the job search is in full swing! This means I'll have to prep for interviews and get my portfolio together.

My attention span is shortening - The turnover is exhausting. Lately, the dating candidates have been really nice. The older ones have all been speaking of some great connection they feel with me. I like them, but don't feel anything. I'm wondering if some of these guys wouldn't be better contenders if they had my full attention. Maybe I'd feel something for them if I wasn't so busy. Instead they're talking to me and I'm distracted by anything shiny and have trouble recalling their names. Parakeets have greater attention spans.

I've turned into "that girl" - and who wants to be "that girl"?! I was at a party recently and I realized that friends have now taken to introducing me as "that girl who's going on 100 First Dates". Yeah, great. So that's the only compelling thing about me these days? Pathetic. Any good potential dates are turned off by that and the creepy guy from New York who smells like poo decides that's his cue to mosey over and see if he can reserve a spot on my dance card. Not exactly the demographic I was shooting for, but thanks buddy.

I think I might give JM a chance at something short term and see how that works out. Just take myself out of circulation temporarily. Our last date was really nice and very comfortable. I brought Sophie over to his place and we had a little slumber party (with pajamas, thank you -- there was no hibbity-skibbity). We got Chinese takeout, watched some Ali G and SNL, talked about growing up in South Florida, and had a nice relaxed time. The next day we had a leisurely brunch and he decided to tag along while I ran some errands and took care of some stuff, then we had a catnap. We wound up being together for a full 24 hours. It was great except I was nervous he might still be hanging around when my next date arrived to pick me up for dinner later that night. One-track daters don't have that kind of stress in their lives; it just made me feel like a player.

What do you think? Should I continue on with the saga of 100 First Dates or give it a rest?

Date 88 - Halloween Voodoo

2005-11-01T12:21:00.000-06:00

originally posted Tuesday, November 01, 2005

T should have been a VERY important man given the amount of scheduling and rescheduling it took for this date to come to fruition.

We met at ZTejas for dinner. When we rescheduled for the umpteenth time, I didn't realize it was going to be Halloween night. For a brief moment I considered wearing some sort of costume, but let's face it...
Internet dating is scary enough as it is.

As a minor concession to my urge for a costume I threw all caution to the wind and wore a pair of new tall leather boots. To hell with worrying about his height! I actually arrived a few minutes early and seated myself at a high top near the door and not far from the fireplace. I saw him immediately when he came in. Well groomed, conservatively dressed with the exception of an oxford shirt the exact color of Astroturf.

Clearly the majority of Austin was either doling out candy to the tots in their neighborhoods or they were downtown on 6th. It felt odd to be out on a date on Halloween. I really DO need to pay more attention to what I'm doing when I schedule these dates. We were immediately seated on the heated back patio and enjoyed the relative quiet of the restaurant.

My very rare Voodoo Tuna ensured that regardless of T's social graces or conversational abilities, this would be a very good date! To my delight, T warmed up easily and we proceeded to have an interesting and lively conversation about everything from owning and operating a business to globalization, public policy, hiking and skiing, bankruptcy law, lobbying, insurance, and Texas politics.

It was one of the best dinner conversations I've had in awhile. No physical spark but a nice night nonetheless.

It's either fizzle or sizzle, fo' shizzle

2005-10-30T12:20:00.000-06:00

originally posted Sunday, October 30

Ugh. I just had a very pleasant and slightly awkward date. Here's the pleasant:

JM made me dinner at his place and we sat in the hot tub and talked until we were both so overheated we couldn't take it any more. Then we came inside and watched some South Park and a DVD.

Totally low key. Pretty nice, right? His place is great. Ridiculously large for one person and ultra clean thanks to maid service. His cooking was delicious and healthy too! He really does seem to have his shit together... and in an altogether well rounded way.

Now for the awkward:

I definitely felt affectionate toward him during parts of the evening... affectionate but somewhat tormented. He sat so far away from me in the hot tub! A little personal space is good... but too much conveys disdain. Finally, right before we got out... he managed to sidle up next to me... no touching, just next to me. That's OK... I think I was just hoping for a kiss at some point.

I have to admit I was flummoxed by his huge uber-home-theater leather sectional. Very nice... reclining and everything. Not exactly great for sitting next to someone though. After 120 minutes of contortion, I need to call my chiropractor! This after all the recent trauma to the hip… but at least he was next to me. He did hold my hand at one point, and even had an arm around me for a little bit.

Woo! Progress!

But everything was dashed at the end. I can't remember his exact words, but I totally felt dismissed. Of course that was plenty of activity for a date, but it was like "OK, ding, time's up...now get the hell out". I wasn't hoping to stay just wanted a more gracious exit. Oh well. THIS is why I'm doing the 100 First Dates.

I was totally disoriented when I left his house. Was it the potential rejection or just being overwhelmed by suburbia? I couldn't even drive my sorry ass home without a 15 mile detour through Volente. At least it's a pretty drive and I already had the top down. Morcheeba filling my ears with a reminder:

"I think you'll find...

Everybody loves a loser...

So you'll be fine...

...You won't be lonely long."

Are they singing about JM or me?

Date 89 - He's a Very Kinky Girl

2005-10-29T12:19:00.000-05:00

originally posted Saturday, October 29, 2005

JM found me online and we starting chatting earlier this week. That's not my style, but lo and behold, he was actually interesting. Intelligent, irreverent, funny. He's college educated, a successful professional and he volunteers on a regular basis. We're actually the same age, which is a refreshing treat.

I talked on the phone with him using the *67 feature to cloak my true identity (being a super hero can really be a bitch sometimes). We were on the phone for an insanely long junior high school amount of time. If my mom was here, I would have been grounded. We were on the phone AND on the computer. Could it possibly have been more geeky? At least we were discussing art and I was able to find images of the obscure triptych that he claimed was his favorite work. We were also making fun of other online dating profiles and trying to figure out why our compatibility score wasn't higher since crazy churchy cat ladies were outranking me. (Turns out my height requirement screened him right out... poor baby.)

I was taking a break from dating this week since I'm pretty badly injured at the moment. Cortizone shot in the hip yesterday, and now in addition to the pain killers, I'm on steroids. I expect the next few posts to contain an unusual amount of anger as a result. I might issue a blanket challenge for arm wrestling too. Any takers?! Bring it on!!!!

I clearly wouldn't be attending any of the fabulous Halloween parties that were on my calendar this weekend, so when he twisted my arm to meet him for a drink it wasn't hard to agree. Curiosity was getting the better of both of us and I think we both looked forward to returning to our regularly scheduled programs.

We were supposed to meet at NXNW, but then his coworkers converged on the place and I got a somewhat frantic phone call asking for a change in venue... the Cheesecake Factory instead. (sigh) Parking would be a bitch, which meant walking which I'm not supposed to be doing... but I agreed. I prayed for parking and lucked out with a relatively close spot.

(After the date, my hell-phone finally sent me his voicemail asking me to just drive up to the restaurant so he could park my car for me. That was thoughtful... if only the hell-phone would have let me know earlier.)

I saw him as I was hobbling out of the car. Talking on his cell phone. I hoped my slow and limping approach would give him the requisite time to conclude his call. No luck. By the time I got to him, he was still yacking. (It should be noted that cell phones are my number 2 pet peeve -- after the new number 1 pet peeve of being humiliated into paying for my own putt-putt.)

He wrapped up his call and shook my hand. A hand shake. Not even a fully legitimate handshake...but a kind of sideways handshake. This did NOT bode well. He was actually his stated height of 5'10" - not as tall as I would like, but a respectable height and he was just as cute as his photos.

We went inside, and he graciously got us the closest available table in the bar to minimize my walking. We ordered some cocktails and my gaydar started to beep. Not loudly... but enough to warrant a raised eyebrow. I had a raspberry martini and he ordered a froo-froo drink too. It takes a secure man to admit he's a girl-drink-drunk, but as our conversation progressed there were other oddities too as he told me some funny stories from his college days. Given his other proclivities (some of which he revealed during our phone call) I was really not expecting this from him. He was increasingly reminding me of my friend Dave from high school who had a wicked crush on me during our college years and shortly thereafter announced he was gay.

He's an interesting guy with some great stories. He fancies himself Val Kilmer from the movie 'Real Genius'. There are some shades of "the snake" in him; he shares some of the same quirks. Because of that, part of me wants to run far, far away -- not likely given the current condition of the hip. The other part of me wants to give him a real chance. I had it bad for "the snake" and he was never worthy of it... but this guy doesn't seem as hollow. Although he does seem just a tad robotic, there doesn't appear to be a 'this space for rent' sign where his soul should be.

He's a bit hard to read and I wasn't sure he was enjoying himself. I was amazed he wanted to continue the date. We went to the adjacent bookstore and got a table in their little coffee area so we could people-watch and chat more: real estate, suburbia and commutes. Easy random conversation until we were both fading... I hobbled back to my car. He gave me a small quick hug and we went our separate ways.

Wide Open Spaces

2005-10-23T12:17:00.000-05:00

originally posted Sunday, October 23, 2005

It was a very good weekend. I took Friday off work and enjoyed a perfect day. Top down on the car, dog next to me, sunshine on my face and wind in my hair. I headed north to Colorado Bend state park to camp out with some friends.

Blue skies and expansive vistas are tranquilizers for the suburbanite. We get so used to our narrow field of vision that just looking at some wide open spaces really is a balm for the soul.

We spent some time at the springs after arriving in the afternoon. Good company and great food marked the end of a great day. I snuggled diagonally into my two person tent (built for midgets), the one I haven't used since Woodstock '99. I exhaled. I was content and appreciative of just how well my life is turning out. Even the drunken teenagers stumbling through our campsite in the middle of the night didn't have much of an impact on my mood; although it should be noted that this is why I don't own a handgun since I was very near to becoming Yosemite Sam.

The morning was really brisk but we had a great little fire going and mimosas and migas met my morning appetite. We had a great long hike scampering over rocks and around waterfalls before winding up back at the springs. We lounged like lizards and enjoyed the sunshine and the extremely cold water.

I had a party to head to the same night back in Austin, so sadly, I needed to pack up and hit the road in the early evening. My compatriots were so kind and thoughtful that they packed me a delicious sandwich and cheesy snacks to munch on during the drive. So yummy!

The dog has never been so well loved, so content, or so exhausted. I fell in love with her all over again on this trip along with everyone else. She really is a good dog. Before I could even put the car in reverse she had her head upside down on the center console of the car and was fast approaching dreamland. She slept pretty much the entire way home and most of the following day. Sweet pup.

Date 90 - Dance with the one who brought you

2005-10-20T12:16:00.000-05:00

originally posted Thursday, October 20, 2005

Two more first dates to go this week and I'm already exhausted. I'm headed downtown yet again to meet a random guy for drinks. Forget about my psyche, I'm not sure my liver is going to be able to handle 100 first dates!

Parking is a bitch... and on a Wednesday night too. I resort to my secret spot and walk the 5 blocks or so to Cedar Street. When D shows up he's much taller than I expected and I never would have been able to pick him out of a crowd based on his picture. He's fairly attractive and sports the ubiquitous goatee. If Danny Bonaducci was older and not as much of an a-hole, he'd look a lot like my date tonight.

We head downstairs to the bar and order up a couple of Shiners and then take a seat in the courtyard patio. It's a beautiful night. The weather is perfect. The Spazmatics are setting up on stage and punctuating our conversation with their sound check. Fine by me, since the conversation isn't really going anywhere anyway.

Within 5 minutes we figure out our one degree of separation. Austin IS such a small town. The Spazmatics are about to take the stage in a few minutes and make conversation completely impossible, so we head over to Six Lounge. I've been meaning to check this place out but hadn't gotten around to it.

It's really not that impressive. Lots of big projection screens and ottomans. Not alot of atmosphere. I guess it's to be expected since it's run by Austin's cycling elite. I think they would have done better to have left it as it was in its previous incarnation and just add on the rooftop bar. We head up to check out the view. The Astros are winning. D heads to the bar to get us another round and a striped shirt wearing hottie moseys up to me to chat as I look over the railing. I know it's bad form, but I'm instantly wishing I was out with this guy instead. He's my age and he's hot. He's also from out of town, but I won't hold that against him.

The next 15 minutes are spent offering up insider's tips to Austin on the hot guy's request. I swear the chamber of commerce should be giving me a commission or something. I'm making an effort to include D in the conversation and forcibly directing my body language towards him so he knows I'm still with him... damn these manners! The hot guy is very cordial and although he's unwilling to give up our conversation, he does buy D another beer (he's outpacing me 2 to 1 so far). D is being very patient but I'm still wondering what the hot guy thinks.

We pull ourselves away and walk back to my secluded parking spot. I left the top down tonight. Not the smartest move, but thankfully the car is still there. D is chatty and affectionate. He seems like a nice guy, but he's clearly developed more of an attachment than I have. He's the perfect height though and he dances... I can't throw this fish back in the water just yet. I agree to a second date and he's already teasing that it won't be soon enough.

Go for it - or just go!

2005-10-16T12:15:00.000-05:00

originally posted Sunday, October 16, 2005

After much deliberation on his part, I received an awkward hug the other night at the end of a date. I'm not sure a smooch was warranted, so I'm not complaining. However, if you're not gonna go for the smooch, sometimes everyone is better off if you just GO!

We had a lovely evening. Why spoil it with awkwardness at the end? There's no need for a big finish or jazz hands. Just make the clean break, take a lesson from the standup comics and just say, "Thanks and goodnight"!

Date 91 - The Pulitz-Surprise

2005-10-15T12:15:00.000-05:00

My immediate impression as I drive by S is that he looks stiff and uncomfortable. Who could blame him?

I called ahead to let him know I was going to be about 10 minutes late and he's dutifully standing at the entrance to Opal Devine's. My catholic heritage kicks in and I feel guilty, but I'm glad he was thoughtful enough to wait for me like that; it was a nice thing to do.

I forgot how bad parking is on this part of 6th street now that the giant Whole Foods uber store has been built. I drive around the block and eventually find a metered spot. I'm ultra casual in jeans, a Henley top and some loafers since it's just Opal Devine's. It must be a good look though, since I've gotten several looks from men as I'm walking around the
corner to the entrance.

S is slim and nicely dressed in a polo shirt and chinos, well groomed and well mannered. I feel a tad underdressed. He's about as tall as advertised at 6' but I'm still glad I opted against any shoe with a heel. He looks about 15 years younger than he is -- I'm wondering if his maturity level is equivalent to his physical age. We opt for a table outside and are ushered to the nether regions of the deck, which is fine by me since we'll have fewer people eavesdropping. After about 3 1/2 minutes, it becomes clear that S has "the babylust". We're onto the checklist; the interview has begun.

As an aside, the babylust has always freaked me out. It seems much more prevalent in women than men, but it's almost freakier in men... maybe because it tends to hit them later in life and then they wind up with much younger women. A good friend of mine has it and I'm convinced he won't have a good match until he gets over it. Age is not insurmountable, but with a richly textured and complicated personality like he has, it's certainly a hurdle. Superficial girls are not his type and yet he's insistent on only dating women "as old as" their early 30's. He wants them ripe for the plucking. [insert rim shot here] Talking about it with him always makes me feel like a dried up prune at the ancient age of 32. ...but I digress, back to the date!

I sip on my table-slappingly-tart "Pinky Friedman" cocktail and expound on my child bearing (or possibly non bearing) philosophy to S. For a man with the babylust he seems to take it in stride. I even ask him some questions about his motivation and experience in the baby department and he seems to take it like a champ. I want to be thought of as a woman, not a womb! It really doesn't and shouldn't matter on a first date, but by not taking offense he has earned himself some points.

Thankfully there are some conversational tangents as a reprieve from "the interview" and he is freakily able to guess the name of the tiny college I went to, just by knowing the state and city. Is he a stalker? No, he's actually visited the town and campus - which I guess isn't so surprising given the historical and architectural significance of the place, but it's not someplace
most people know about.

The conversation continues about nothing in particular and he's antsy to move to another venue. I guess I passed phase 1 of the interview process. The full moon had come up in previous conversation and as we're walking over to Malaga on 4th, I point it out to him. He steps back to get a view, jokingly howls and seizes the opportunity to plant one on me. It's a little soon for my taste, but I'm willing to roll with it and aside from his overextended mouth during his attack, it's not unpleasant. (I suppose I tend to like smaller kisses.)

We have some delectable olives and bread to help cleanse the tartness from my palette and enjoy a most excellent glass of Spanish wine thanks to the recommendation of our attentive hostess. Things are progressing nicely and S is easy enough to talk to. I'm having a good time, although as the evening continues, I'm less and less impressed by him. He's in his mid 40's and is working in technology sales? He's living with roommates? It took him HOW many years to finish his degree? Hmmmm..... not so much. He seems pretty intelligent and well rounded. I love that he has some varied interests like filmmaking and rock-climbing... but it just doesn't have the same sheen in this light as it did before I knew some of the more mundane details of his life.

Maybe my face shows this. As we continue talking, he mentions a certain woman he used to date. He mentions that she's a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist. I jokingly say, "Oh, I'll bet I know her, what's her name?" He tells me it's not likely that I'd know her since she moved to California. "Oh really, where did she move to?" He tells me the city and I exclaim, "Oh, yes! M_____!!" and watch all the color immediately drain from his face. M is one of the fantastically talented and brilliant women from the book club I've attended for a few years now. I don't actually know her all that well, and she might not be able to pick me out of a lineup but we've shared some great books and provocative conversation.

He backpedals a bit and tells me it was really pretty platonic... and I'm wondering if he's embarrassed about dating her or if he treated her poorly.
When I briefed a confidant about it today, he suspected that S might not have dated her at all. Men! Who can tell? He tries to soldier through the rest of the conversation but a few moments later excuses himself and when he returns he's a bundle of nervous energy, twitching legs and all.

Things maintained a certain level of levity, but it feels like it was all down hill from there. And yet, as he's walking me back to my car he's confidently and snugly holding my hand. He seizes the opportunity to land another smooch and is talking about feeling like he made a real connection. I certainly enjoyed myself, and he is attractive but I'm not feeling particularly connected at all at this point... in fact I was still really evaluating things... and maybe I still am.

Date 92 - An object lesson in how not to be

2005-10-15T12:14:00.000-05:00

originally posted Saturday, October 15, 2005

After about a month of scheduling difficulties, I finally met C. for coffee last night. He was a fairly attractive guy but was grayer, shorter and heavier than advertised... and fairly unpleasant to boot.

I'm not sure if he was disappointed in my appearance, nervous or intimidated, but I now FULLY understand the importance of being mentally ready to date. There's a certain psyching up that one has to go through to get in the game. He had clearly not done that. I'm actually wondering if I've put other people through this same grudging experience myself; I truly hope not.

From a glance, he looked well adjusted and normal enough, but whatever he's been through in life (I'm guessing his last relationship) had taken its toll on him. He seemed hollow. It didn't matter what the topic of conversation was. This guy was determined to be down on himself - he found a way to spin everything into a kamikaze death spiral and was hell bent on returning to any previous topic of conversation (tangents be damned!) in order to wring the last drop of life from it, dig a hole and bury it.

What I couldn't figure out was why I continued to try to coax him out of his shell. His body language was screaming defense and yet I continued to throw him compliments in our conversation and try to build up his confidence like a kindergarten teacher rooting for him to learn his ABC's. I'm not sure if I wanted him to like me or just to like himself a little more.

Thank god I had a second date with T lined up for later in the evening. The stench of a crappy date like this can linger for days like bad seafood, so at least my pending second date with T would function as a squeeze of lemon juice and counteract the pungent aroma of Negative Man still clinging to my aura.

Date 93 - You Don't Have To Live Like a Refugee

2005-10-12T12:13:00.000-05:00

originally posted Wednesday, October 12, 2005

Well, I knew I was going to have to get back on the horse some time.
Now seemed as good a time as any. These 100 men aren't just going to date themselves. I've got to get out there and check them off my list!

I didn't figure #93 would be much of a love connection, but I expected it would be a good solid date to get me back in the game. It was tough though. Although I had been appreciative of the solitude since kicking J to the curb, I guess I wasn't prepared for the post traumatic stress that would follow. I was starting to feel a little gun shy. Was I just setting myself up for more disappointment here? It's hard to get psyched up about dating when you've endured more than your fair share of jacki (that's the plural of jackass in case you were wondering).

I was wiped out before the date even started. Slept late and even missed my morning aerobics class, which is out of character for me. I rested up though and I managed to pull myself together in a snappy but casual outfit. Shoal Creek Saloon is a nice laid back Austin place, but I still wanted to make an impression. It might have been more important for me than for him since women tend to dress for other women. Anyway, despite my passive aggression I even arrived on time!

I had faith that T would be tall, which was great since I didn't have to worry about drudging up some flat-flatty-flat-flatts in hopes of diminishing my borderline Amazonian appearance. In fact, although he claims 6'3" I think this may be the first case I've seen of a man who underestimates his height. Either my karma is finally starting to pay off or I'm just starting to judge height in internet units. He was pleasantly tall, nicely dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, and well mannered. How lucky can a girl get?

We walked out to the back patio to get better acquainted.

He's recently relocated from New Orleans and has only been in Austin for a few weeks. Still, he's landed on his feet pretty well. He’s gainfully employed in his field and is already getting his bearings around town. He doesn't yet seem to understand how far away he is from everything since he lives out near the lake but the joy of Austin traffic will soon take its toll, I'm sure. His disposition is sunny -- I cannot imagine being in his position and not only being so cheerful, but able to throw myself into internet dating on top of it all!

It was a nice pleasant conversation and he seemed effortlessly thoughtful. 'Is the sun in your eyes? Here let me sit there since I've got sunglasses.' Nice, but not a push over. I left him for my evening plans before the LSU game started on tv. I thanked him for the drink and coming out to meet me and hoped he'd make some new pals with the other alumni that converged on the place. I walked away and somehow stifled the urge to look back.

Another One Bites the Dust

2005-10-09T12:13:00.000-05:00

originally posted Sunday, October 09, 2005

All good things must come to an end... and sometimes not so good things too.

Things had been progressing steadily with J. I was having a nice time. Being with him was fun. I loved the totally random conversations that would keep us up way past any normal bedtime. There was plenty of laughter and affection, on both parts. I wasn't analyzing things -- there was no need to -- I was just enjoying myself.

There were regular phone calls at the end of the work day to see how I was. There were roses. There were chocolates. There was an invitation for a weekend away at a quaint little town not far from Austin.

I had cut the others loose and was questioning the rationale behind continuing the 100 first dates since this was progressing so well but there were some red flags. I got an occasional vibe of instability on his part... something I couldn't quite put my finger on ... it was slightly ... manic. I resolved to make a note of it, but not over think things. Perhaps he was just intense. I can deal with intense.

Austin City Limits was coming up. I had a feeling we were going to be festival incompatible. ACL was a three day 108 degree endurance test this year, somewhat complicated by a near miss with Hurricane Rita. I was in for all three days. He was out, but had a friend who gifted him with a ticket and so we met up on Saturday. At least for a brief time. His A.D.D. kicked in around sunset and I got stuck babysitting his friend for a good 45 minutes before eventually departing and going my own way. The next night we reconnected and mended fences over the miscommunication / misunderstanding, but it was not for long.

The following Tuesday night he'd cajoled me into coming over to his place after he flew back from his day trip. I let him guilt me into it. That was my fault, but sometimes you've got to take one for the team. It was a shitty day. I was still exhausted from the festival and a late night with my friend Courtney the night before. I was beginning to suspect I had a sinus infection from inhaling several pounds of dirt and dust at the festival; my doctor concurred and I had a one-on-one meeting with a high level manager at work that did NOT go well. I told myself it would be nice to see him. I was warmly anticipating the nice hug he'd give me when I showed up at his place and settling into bed to sleep.

I arrive. Ding dong. He answers the door.

Naked.

I make some remark about good thing I'm not the pizza guy. He acts like it's no big deal. It takes me a good 2.5 seconds to realize he's drunk. Not drunk like "I've knocked back a few too many beers after work" but drunk as in "I smell like a brewery and remaining vertical is requiring the majority of my faculties".

Drunk as a skunk. Full on shitty-drunk. He's whining about my unavailability the previous night and asking me to rub ointment on his new tattoo. He's dramatically drunk, as in "No one understands me and everything that I've accomplished in my life." He's in my face and slurring. He's slightly menacing -- he probably doesn't realize that, but he's so out of control, I'm a little frightened.

He's maintaining that he's NOT drunk, because afterall, he drove himself home! (In that condition I'm surprised there's not a trail of dead leading up to his doorstep.) I try to maintain a distance and give him some room to gesticulate. He wants to know why I don't seem overjoyed to see him. I tell him I'm tired.

He's ordered pizza and wants me to have some with him. It's late and that's the last thing I need. No, scratch that -- dealing with a drunken jackass on a Tuesday night when I'm physically exhausted and don't feel well is the last thing I need; pizza doesn't even register comparatively. He tells me I can just go upstairs to bed if I like; he'll join me later. I am exhausted, but that doesn't matter... the thought of having him next to me is revolting right now. I thank him, but tell him that I'm going to go home. He's pouting, he's petulant. He's SO OVER but hasn't yet gotten the memo nor a clue.

I'm in my car and proud. Glad to have made a good decision that's good for me. I’m slightly sad that what looked to be a budding relationship bore no fruit, but happy to have avoided the addition of unnecessary chaos to my life.

I suppose the 100 First Dates will resume, but for now I want to savor a bit of solitude. Having a near miss with a character such as this makes one appreciate solitude all the more.

The following day he emails apologies. He leaves voicemail. He says he's not sure what happened last night; he only remembers that I was over and that I left. He's embarrassed that he had so much to drink. Eventually he claims to be mortified that he had driven in his condition. I call him back. He rinses and repeats. I struggle for a moment to find the words.

I don't want to engage him in dialogue about this. It's not really a problem to be fixed or discussed. Finally I settle on thanking him for the apology and "I just don't think this is going to work." His reply: "Ok, bye."

That was easy.

He could have been a contender...

2005-10-04T12:12:00.000-05:00

originally posted Tuesday, October 04, 2005

...but based on newly instituted guidelines he's now the latest statistic in my catch and release program.

A is a great guy. I really liked him. He has it together. I was naturally comfortable with him and really enjoyed his company. For the love of god, he was even tall!

...but when push came to shove, I just couldn't imagine going there with him. I could not risk having horrible bathtub scrubbing sex with him. That would do both of us a disservice.

I thought he got the clue on our third and final date. The vibe was just off. I was running hot and cold... but mostly cold. He was great though. The evening ended early and as he walked back to his truck after having escorted me to my front door, he even turned to say something cheesy and condescending, like "be good" or "stay out of trouble". Clearly, this was done AND done!

Nope.

Poor guy thought he did something wrong when he didn't hear from me again. Just another testament to what a good guy he is. Really. It hurt me to do it, but when he asked, I gave it to him straight and he took it like a man.

The Brush Off

2005-10-03T12:11:00.000-05:00

Ah, the dreaded brush off....or how many licks DOES it take to get to the center of a "No way we're ever gonna have sex" tootsie pop?

Chemistry is a funny thing. It can sizzle. It can spark. It can even be ignited for a long, slow burn....so how long do you wait before you know if you've got it with someone or not? You've been going out. You've been having fun and laughing. You're feeling affectionate, but do you really want to GO THERE?

If I'm going to get through 100 First Dates, I can't invest too much time to find out. I'm going to institute a general rule of thumb of three strikes and you're out. This way neither my dates nor I invest too much. There's no opportunity for bitterness when you get cut loose after three dates.

Yes, I may be missing out on some opportunities for the slow burn, but this feels fairer. It hurts more when you've invested time and energy into something and nothing develops. I'm a bit sensitive about that since my wasted time with the Snake. Not bitter, but sensitive. We had the physical chemistry, but real substance never developed and he was never really interested in that anyway. Conversely, with the Bear I had substance, but no physical chemistry. It was quite possibly the worst sex I ever had. So bad, in fact, as it was happening I was contemplating the cleanliness of my bathtub and grout... and wishing I could get some Ajax and scrub it right then instead! Which is worse?

So, no more investment of time beyond three dates unless I feel that all systems are go. Yes, we've been going out. Yes, I like you. Yes, we've been having fun. Yes, you ARE just that into me. Yes, I feel affectionate, but the $64,000 question is:

Do I want to see you naked?

Date 94 - Truth in advertising?

2005-10-01T12:10:00.001-05:00

originally posted Saturday, October 01, 2005

A is tall! He's actually as tall as he says he is! About 6' 2" - hooray!
But he's a bigg'un! His pictures must be 10 years old... He's a really big guy, which is fine, but unexpected.

He's a little sloppy with his shirt untucked, but otherwise, put together OK. Upon seeing me he tells me he's nervous. I'm flattered.
We settle down into a table and chit chat...

I'm way too chattery -- mainly due to my third caffeinated beverage of the day, which means I'm mainlining now and my reactor core may overload at any moment. Where are the dilithium crystals when you need them?! Damn it!

We have some good conversation. He calls me a brat several times and kids me about being older than him... at which point I ask him to call me Mrs. Robinson. Koo-koo-ka-choo! [Is that kinky?]

The coffee people are trying to close up shop so we move to our next venue and drive over to the Draft House on Burnet & Medical for a pitcher of hefeweisen. He stands in line while I grab a table. Already an efficient division of labor -- I'm liking this. Plus we're clowning from a distance which gives me a chance to do my retarded sign language routine. Good times!

All in all, a lovely evening.

Date 95 - Vertically challenged or Keep Your Feet on the Ground and Keep Reaching for the Stars!

2005-10-01T12:10:00.000-05:00

J is from eHarmony, the most painful dating website in the known world. It's totally a pain in the ass. It takes 15 hours of cumulative back and forth smoke signals and note passing before you can directly communicate by email.

J and I had earned the grand prize of "open communication" way back in June but nothing ever happened. I figured he'd be too short for me and I'd be too fat for him to begin with, so no hurries, no worries.

I posted some birthday pics on my profile and he emailed to comment on them. A month later the stars and our schedules finally aligned for our first date.

J was attractive, nicely dressed and well groomed.
He was shorter than advertised, although I expected he would be. He claimed 5'9" but there's no way. 5'5"....maybe! It was like being out with Tom Cruise, minus the blinding teeth and couch acrobatics.

I knew this would happen since most men inflate their height online. This caused me much consternation as I struggled to put together an outfit that would look nice but casual. Something that would be flattering but with minimal shoe height since I didn't want to feel Amazonian. I'm not really sure why guys lie about their height online. Perhaps it's not even intentional. Maybe it's even aspirational: Today I'm about 5' 4 1/2" but one day I hope to be 5'9"!

3 hours of alternatively light and intense conversation, a couple of beers and a platter of garlic crostini appetizers later, the date wrapped up. J was energetic and interesting. I loved hearing about his background, nonprofit work and his tech career, but I especially loved learning more about his art. I really enjoyed talking with him about the artistic process and the challenges that go along with it, like the huge risk involved in taking "the leap" into doing something like that fulltime.

I'm inspired by J -- he's living the life I've always wanted for myself.
Even if the date itself wasn't a match, I still came away feeling good about things. It's nice to know there are people like him out there ... it gives me hope! And when his art takes off as I'm sure it will, I'll be able to say I met him once. That's groovy.

Date 96 - Dipping the pen in the company ink

2005-10-01T12:09:00.000-05:00

originally posted Saturday, October 01, 2005

There's some debate within the "Council of Evil" that this shouldn't even count as a date. Or perhaps it's a half-date. Some said it was a date that I turned into a non-date.

Read on and you be the judge.

D is a cutie that works on my floor. Awhile ago he started popping by my office for non-office stuff... so I decided to throw a dog a bone and returned his serve.

Next thing I know he's IMing me to ask me out for coffee after my class. Bad timing. Not only was I stuck in a class all week and trying to catch up on work at night, but I also had plans every night of the week, so I asked for a raincheck.

Before our coffee, I began questioning things.
He didn't know I was going on 100 dates. Wasn't it arrogant of me to assume this would be a date? Perhaps the poor guy just wanted to vent about work with someone who didn't work on the same projects. Or maybe it was supposed to be a date but my raincheck thing sent the "I'm not interested" signal. Either way, I didn't want to get things wrong. After suffering the humiliation of the putt-putt incident, I was not going to endure any indignity from a guy I'd have to see occasionally in the elevator at my place of employment!

So, sadly we stayed on the corporate campus and got coffee from the cafeteria. We sat outside on the back patio for an afternoon break that lasted about 45 minutes and got to know each other a little better. Nice.

Several more coffee breaks have ensued and yesterday he bought my Diet Cherry Coke - which incidentally had a winning cap so now I've got another liter of the stuff coming my way. Hooray for caffeine!

So, you be the judge! Date or non-date?

Date 97 - Surprise Swordplay and Moons Over His Hammy

2005-09-17T12:08:00.000-05:00

We'd been emailing for awhile and I looked forward to meeting J. With my travel and social schedules, it took weeks to synchronize. We finally met for drinks and dinner at Mesa Hills Cafe.

My first impression: He was cute, but much more casual than I expected, especially since we talked that afternoon and he said he was going home to shower and change for our date. I felt a bit overdone in my jersey dress. Engineering school evidently had not impacted him too much -- there was nothing remotely geeky about his appearance or demeanor.

A former cook, he's definitely a foodie, but he made deciding what to order and enjoying the food lots of fun. He invented some kind of fruity drink with a ridiculous number of liquors called the Soprano. (I had two during the evening and I gotta say I was more than sufficiently socially lubricated!) We moved on to appetizers and talked about politics, religion and generally all the stuff you're not supposed to when you first meet someone.

At one point the conversation turned to youthful antics, drugs, tatoos, etc. He took a plastic sword from his drink's garnish and demonstrated his formerly pierced septum. I was simultaneously startled, creeped out and amused.

It was a fun evening and he asked me to make room in my schedule to see him the next weekend.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
The Second date with J- live music downtown Sept 3

J is totally laid back about our plans for the evening, which is awesome because I was exhausted from working on a really intense home improvement project for the past several days (also known as pergo-tory).

Since he's more central, I picked him up and we headed downtown to catch some live music. We scored a perfect and FREE parking spot and head to a low key bar on 6th with some live blues. Obtained a couch in the back where the music wasn't ear splitting, then switched to a different couch that was actually made for adults instead of midgets. Stupid Eurway furniture and their elfin magic!

We had a few cocktails, some interesting conversation and a couple of nice smooches too. As the bar filled, we realized we had a great spot and probably couldn't top it, but we moved on to another bar to play some pool. I'm horrible at pool. Truly talentless. The way I play it's a contact sport. Helmets are de rigeur. Despite that, he's encouraging and patient.

More drinks. More fun! Two games and we called it a night, but not before grabbing a slice at the goth pizzeria on our way to the car - yum! All's well until 8th and Congress when he decides to take his shirt off to show me his ink. I knew he had tattoos from our previous conversations, but this is his entire back. OK. I'm cool. ...and now he's "dropping trou"... on 8th and Congress. I'm not OK anymore.

I'm trying to go to my happy place....
and I'm not succeeding.

La, la, la!

Date 98 - The Putt-Putt Put-Down

2005-09-14T12:06:00.000-05:00

originally posted Wednesday, September 14, 2005

I was looking forward to meeting B. He seemed well rounded and possibly even sensitive. Brainy but down to earth. A geek who golfs. He asked me to meet him for some Putt Putt on Burnet. I thought it was cute and unconventional.

I arrive and it's so nice to finally see him. He looks just like his picture except he's a little twitchy - probably a little nervous. So, we walk up to the counter and he says "One, please."

It's all down hill from there. Is this really happening?

The fifteen year old boy is looking at me with pity. I'm confused and mortified. I'm looking back at the kid imploringly. My vision turns to slow-mo and I am looking for what? A camera? Ashton Kutcher? What the hell am I supposed to do now?

My stomach turns and I think, "I've got to get the hell outta here!" I want to bolt for my car. It seems so close. If I wasn't wearing these stupid sandals I bet I could make it over there before B even realized what was happening. I'm seriously considering making a run for it.

I hear my mom's voice inside my head telling me to be polite. I reach in my pocket and pull out a fiver. "One, please," I manage and soldier on.

The small talk is effortful. We cover the usual topics. I hit my ball at precisely the right angle to curve around a metal loop and sink a hole in one. I usually suck at mini-golf... and regular golf too. I'm afraid to go on a real course for fear that I'm liable to kill someone with the results of my errant swing.

We finish and he suggests "going for a beer or something". I'm still confused. Stunned. I try to look on the bright side and make excuses. My inner bitch wants to ask if I'm supposed to buy my own beer too. I stifle the inner bitch and we head to the Draught House on Medical Parkway. I decide to eliminate the problem by buying the first round - I'll reclaim my dignity and cut him off at the pass! He buys the second, and then has a third. Conditions don't improve.

I'm happy to be deposited back at my car and decide I need an exit strategy for future dates gone wrong. After this kind of humiliation an exit strategy will be imperative for me to survive the rest of these dates.

Date 99 - Lucky Red Sinuses

2005-09-12T12:04:00.000-05:00

originally posted Monday, September 12, 2005

OK, so technically R shouldn't qualify.
He's illustrative of my problem of giving guys more chances than they deserve. But cut me some slack... my philosophy is still forming at this point. I'm early in the game still.

The back-story:
We had a first date a few months back... and a pretty good time. We saw Margaret Cho live. It was hilarious and if you can get through a first date listening to a comedian talk about the first lady's vagina and lemon pledge, you're pretty much good to go. Shared trauma forms bonds.

Logistics were a challenge. I went out of town for an extended period. There was some talk of a second date that just didn't materialize. I speculated that like the song on HeeHaw "He met another and pbbbbbfth! he was gone!".

Evidently, not.

The second chance or first date #2:
We went out to see the Mr. Sinus troupe do 'Red Dawn' at the Alamo. R picked me up in his sparkling new BMW convertible, and although I'm not impressed by yuppie artifacts in general, I must say the design elements were seductive. [He was driving a Nissan Z convertible on our previous date, and I have to say, I actually preferred the BMW.]

We had a solidly nice, if slightly awkward time at the early show. It's a Friday night and he's walking me back to his car... then after the parking lot attendant comments on us leaving so early, he seems to realize that this is actually a date and there's potential for more fun because it really is only 9:00 or so.

We head to Lucky Lounge for a drink and some live music. We discuss politics and economics for awhile and then he finally kisses me. A huge relief. And it's nice enough that we continue punctuating our conversation this way for awhile. Then it's off to Whiskey Bar for some more conversation and more smoochin'.

He brings me home and stays for awhile. Awhile in this case lasts until about 6 am. My dog is in love with him at this point. She's a sucker for the belly rub. Me too.

Date 100: Spooky coffee and more

2005-09-06T12:03:00.000-05:00

originally posted Tuesday, September 06, 2005

R is a well traveled, very educated, former FBI agent in his mid 40's. I'm not sure the age is accurate; if it is, they've been tough years.

We agreed to meet for coffee at a nice little place out on 360. He appears out of nowhere and catches me off guard. We go inside and he's obviously attentive and well mannered. After finishing our drinks and enjoying some light conversation he decides he'd like to take me to dinner.

He's still fairly new to town, and I'm happy to play tour guide for him. We head out to Ski Shores for a burger and a little slice of the laid back Austin vibe. Bonus: it's a beautiful day, a great drive and their "border burger" is one of the best burgers to be had in town! It's a nice evening, except for another spooky appearance out of nowhere just before we left the restaurant.

The end of the date was awkward... I was thanking him for the date and he seemed to brush me off like I was going in for a smooch or something. I wasn't. He says something about wanting to "take things slow". I feel weird and icky as a result, like maybe somehow he thought I was coming on to him.

His phone call 2 minutes after I get home completely turned me off. It could be that he wanted to check to make sure I got home OK, but he didn't leave a message. There's voicemail and email waiting as soon as I get to work the next morning. There's a freakish intensity about him. He's contacting me incessantly. We speak on the phone once more eventually, but I'm wondering if I'll need to file a restraining order.

I feel guilty for not returning his calls, but something tells me it's better this way.

Weeks pass. I'm traveling for work and generally very busy with other things. He finally settles down, but just this morning was fishing for a second date. You gotta give the guy credit for stick-to-it-iveness.

100 First Dates

2005-09-01T12:02:00.000-05:00

originally posted Thursday, September 01, 2005

I'm on a mission.

100 First Dates.

I've realized that I've been wasting alot of time and emotion getting involved with and attached to men that are beneath me (not necessarily in the fun way, either). Since I'm a pretty unusual woman, I figure it's going to take a fair amount of determination on my part to find a candidate that is interested in and worthy of a meaningful long term relationship.

Also, it's dawned on me that part of the problem is my openness. I'm willing to give anyone a chance. That's a good thing. Being willing to give anyone a second or third chance ...that's not so good. I make excuses for these inadequate men.

My new philosophy relies more heavily on Occam's Razor - the simplest explanation is the best. And 100 First Dates is a great way for me to practice this. So even though I can and occasionally do have a good time talking to a brick wall, when the brick wall calls to ask me out again I need to let bygones be bygones. He is, afterall, a brick wall... NOT someone I want to spend the rest of my life with.

And so, it begins.

The Countdown

Let the count down begin. First a couple of notes:
1. I've decided to count backwards on this so I have constant knowledge of how many more dates I'm committed to go on / must endure. I feel that after 100, I can legitimately give up or go gay. (Except I'm probably too lazy to switch teams and learn all the tricks that go with different anatomy).

2. Austin is a small town (and I think I've already dated half of the city anyway) but I will be changing names to protect the guilty, inept and clueless.

3. I am accepting applications for first dates. If you feel you are a worthy candidate or know of one, please send a note or comment.

The minimum criteria for candidates:
be in the Austin area
have a full set of teeth (Billy Bob or Austin Powers teeth do NOT qualify)
be a minimum of 5'10 (preferably 6' or taller)
have good hygiene and grooming
possess a modicum of intelligence or at least a bachelor's degree in underwater basket weaving or equivalent
be gainfully employed
be financially independent (this means being able to pay for a first date!)
have private transportation
have a sharp sense of humor and appreciation of the "dork" side
be generally well adjusted with hobbies and interests outside of work (videogames and porn do not qualify)

Bonus points will be awarded for good manners, good grooming, attractiveness, above average intelligence and creativity.

Envy

2005-08-10T12:06:00.000-05:00

originally posted Wednesday, August 10, 2005

So maybe Paul Harvey was onto something afterall with his ubiquitous "...and now you know [pause] the rest of the story."

It seems there's always a back story to things. I guess everyone suffers.

Recently, I've learned about some friends and acquaintances that I thought had it made. I've spent time envying their lives ... and lifestyles. Why do they get to quit work and enjoy an oceanfront vacation home when I'm stuck toiling in the mines all day? Why do they get the fairytale marriage? It's not fair!!!!!

[It should be noted that throughout my childhood my mother's cruel and pragmatic mantra was "Life isn't fair", yet somehow I still expect and yearn for the fairness that never comes.]

Their back stories of philandering spouses, betrayal, abuse and heartbreak make me glad for my own small problems and my life as a meager singleton. Yes, I routinely endure the holidays alone, but isn't that better than having to spend it with a cheating spouse?

Uninvited

2005-07-17T11:57:00.000-05:00

originally posted Sunday, July 17, 2005

Uninvited

I just finished reading a great book called "Around the World in 80 dates". It's by a British travel journalist who decides to take the adventure of a lifetime in search for her soul mate, whom she meets at the Burning Man fest (date #55)

Anyway, chick lit aside, this book has really opened up my eyes. My friend Pinkerbell had a similar approach to dating... I think she did more than 100 dates in one summer... and she married one of them. I'm exhausted from living la vida loca lately and have actually decided to take a break from dating. Now I'm thinking it needs to be an even longer break so I can be prepared for the numbers game.

I really do deserve far better than C. He's a great guy, but he's never really invested anything in me... and clearly, doesn't appreciate me. Yes, he's fun, but he doesn't really care. I'm realizing that I deserve better and I'm looking for my counterpoint. He's NOT it.

Which brings me to the big question...
How do you dis-invite someone from a birthday partay?
"Um, gee, I'm not really sure what I was thinking when I invited you, but now I realize that you don't particularly care for me, and that's kind of a prerequisite for attending."
Right now, I'm just hoping he'll forget about it.

Soon-to-be Former Mayor of Boyland

2005-07-08T11:50:00.000-05:00

originally posted Friday, July 08, 2005

Ah, boys....

I'm seriously thinking of resigning my post as mayor of Boyland.
Isn't it crazy? When you've got it bad for someone, they generally don't have it bad for you. ... and vice versa.

Out of the blue, former roommate and long time friend and love, KW realizes that I'm the best thing that ever happened (and possibly ever could happen) to him. He's ready to jump on a plane from DC to propose even though it's been a few years now since we've seen each other. I had to talk him down from the ledge. There's nothing like someone else's mid-life crisis to remind you how well you're doing in the grand scheme of things.

JB from New York reminds me how much substance is lacking with the current boy, C. I've been involved with C for awhile now. Since November of last year, but broke things off when another guy forced my hand and wanted to see me exclusively. Life without C made me physically ill and I scrambled back to him, but can't really say we're dating now. And all along, C has had the most amazing spidey sense ever. As soon as I decide I'm done and and can't take it anymore.... [ring! ring!] he's on the phone to me. Our timing has never been great that way. It's a weird push-pull dynamic. It's rare to find a boy who's so engaging and I had hoped for more between us. Alas, he doesn't seem interested in more... which means I'm gonna have to move along real soon lest it hurt even worse.

Nuthin to see here, move along, move along....