You're a Great Guy, But....

My Boys is one of my favorite shows. The witty banter. The gathering of dudes. The complete lack of estrogen. Ahhhhhhh. The only real "female" in the show is the main character's best friend Stephanie. She wrote a book called You're a Great Guy, But. I think it was a celebration of women or something. Doesn't really matter. What matters is, the title stuck with me.

As I say goodbye to my 20's, I feel a lot more pragmatic about my personal life. I feel more grounded. Happier with where I am and who I am (please note: this does not carry over to my professional life; I still HATE that). I don't feel like I need someone else to be happy. I'm certainly not as willing as I once was to put up with other people's crap. I'm a lot ballsier. I think my attitude now is, "You don't like me? That's fine. I don't like you that much either. And there's hella guys in line after you." And wouldn't you know it, when I finally arrived at this stage of enlightenment, the heavens opened and I finally caught a damn bouquet at a wedding (although if anyone asks, I only wanted one because I wanted to WIN).

I attended the wedding with Derek, who I'm afraid it must be noted, has never had a relationship lasting longer mere months in his 30 years on earth. Would you like to know how I found this out? Because on our THIRD date, Derek tried to "define the relationship." Those of you who attended Christian colleges and universities will know exactly what I mean when I looked at him -- utterly appalled -- and said, "You've got to be kidding me. Are you really trying to have the DTR on our third date? When we've known each other 2 weeks?"

He didn't know the DTR terminology, so I painstakingly outlined how it was universally understood by Christians in their 20s that at some point in a relationship, one or the other participant would want to nail things down and would therefore initate the Define The Relationship talk.

Derek was embarassed. "I don't know what's supposed to come next! I just know I like you and I'm going to put this out here and be honest with you: I want to spend as much time with you as possible before I go back to Massachusetts for my last semester of grad school. There. I said it."

I said, "Okay. Thank you for your honesty. I appreciate it. I am still a little freaked out that you need to know where things are going with me after 2 1/2 dates. I'm having fun right now. I like where I am. I'm definitely not ready to nail things down or be exclusive with anyone."

He said, "That's fine, I get that. Now I feel dumb. I don't know what's supposed to come next! I haven't done this before."

I looked at him, dumbstruck. "What do you mean you haven't 'done this' before? When was your last long-term relationship?"

Never.

That's right, never. His longest-lasting relationship was 5 mos and ended 4 years ago. Stupidly, I didn't ask WHY he's never dated anyone longer than 5 months.

Fast forward to the weekend of Sam's wedding. After we got back into town, I let him come over to my parents' house for my dad's birthday. I know you're thinking that was a crazy move, but my brother bailed on the party and Derek's the same height, so I figured he could stand in. Everything went well until Derek went to the bathroom and my mom hissed, "We are TRYING to set you up with KEVIN here!!!!!!"

Who is KEVIN, you ask? He's my dad's 27-year-old employee, who conveniently showed up to a family birthday party with 5 gallons of icecream.

So there we were: Mom, Dad, Kevin, Derek, and I. Brilliant.

We muddled our way through an evening together. Kevin monopolized the conversation, which is good because the rest of us were a bit awkward and he's a good talker. Eventually, Derek and I were able to leave. He swore to support me despite my crazy family. Clearly, the competitor in him was determined to oust Kevin at all costs. Isn't that nice? I'm starting to get warm fuzzies.

So we went shopping for "grown-up clothes" because he dresses like a 5-year-old, and I finally admitted to Derek that -- despite my initial reticence -- I really liked him. In fact, I told him that I missed him already, even though he wasn't gone. Derek insisted that he wasn't leaving for school for another week, and that even then, it was only a matter of being there a few months. Everything would be fine.

And that was the last I saw of Derek, folks.

Let this be a lesson to all my readers: Despite their loud cries to the contrary, men love games. They love the thrill of the chase. They love the idea of a girl who is being asked out by her co-workers, her friends, the guys she runs into at the pool, her dad's employees. They, even more than I, enjoy WINNING. Once they've won, it's pretty much old hat.

It's okay. Yeah, I liked him, but like I said, I'm pretty okay with where I am in my life right now. I'm not as willing to put up with guys' sh!t as I used to be. Maybe I'm older. Maybe I'm wiser. Or maybe all these damn frogs have driven the hope right out of me ;)

Stones

Recently, I went on a date. Actually, I went on lots of dates, but this blog post is concerned with only one of them. Some of you may recall my blog of bygone years, coffeespoon300. In it, I chronicled my trek through graduate school with Leila, Dana, and Jessica, amongst other things. You may recall reading about the many men who took up our thoughts at the time. Chief amongst those was a guy we'll call Derek. Leila was crazy about him and the rest of us listened to and dissected his every move from a distance as Leila reported them all to us.

"He asked me to come over and watch the game! What do you think that means?"

or

"He gave me flowers! I think this is it!"

Alas, nothing ever came of the games or the flowers. Leila graduated and moved off to New Jersey with someone else and none of us ever heard from her again. I forgot all about Derek.

Until 3 Sundays ago when I ran into him at a church I was visiting with my friend and her husband. As we walked past him on our way out, I called out a friendly hello. He seemed taken aback when I said his name. All right, so it has been 4 years since we met.

As Ava, Rick and I stood chatting in the church foyer before going our separate ways, Derek walked up to us and boldly interruped.

"Excuse me. You said hello to me just now by name, but I don't know your name. Have we met?"

That was ballsy, blog readers. Most guys wouldn't interrupt a princess talking with her friends just to say that he didn't know her name. Derek gained back some of the respectability points he lost when he was non-dating Leila.

"Sure. I'm Elle, Leila's friend. I also know your mother."

By the time I'd gotten home, I had a friend request from Derek. In a matter of days, he asked me out.

He gained several more respectability points at that juncture. Most of the guys I know don't have the stones to just ask a girl out, especially right after they meet her. It's a subject frequently discussed by the single women I know. In fact, even as I type this, I'm reminded of one man who has been flirting with me for the past 5 or 6 weeks and is still no closer to asking me out because, "I don't know if I like you!" Grow some balls, brother. That's the point of a date. Now cowboy up and ask for it (date, not balls).

In Sex and the City 2 (which, by the way, may very well be the worst movie of all time *sniff*), Big and Carrie face the discomfort and stares of people who assume that they are going to start having children now that they are married. I was talking with Sam recently about this very thing... and we decided that most people don't really put a whole lot of thought and prayer into having children. They just assume that that's what they're supposed to do because that's what everyone else does, and so they do it.

Think about it. You start dating someone and people start asking you how it's going, then when you're getting engaged. You get engaged and people immediately begin asking you when the wedding is. You get married and they want to know when you're going to have children. You have a child and they want to know if you're ready for another one. At no point in this whole rigamarole is it acceptable to say, "You know, I'm not sure that's what I want." Can you imagine answering the question, "So when do you think he's going to propose!?!" with, "Oh, you know, I'm not really even thinking about that. He may not be a person I'll marry, but I enjoy his company!" No one says that!!! It's like we're living in the antebellum South, for crying out loud!

And unfortunately, this is the position I find myself in. I'm a moderately conservative 29-year-old virgin who doesn't really want to have children. But can I really tell anyone that? Hell, no. Any one of those things is a strike on its own. Moderate? Ick. VIRGIN!?!?!? What's wrong with you? About to turn 30? I see, so you're too picky. In the last week, I've been "e-dumped" (email, text, telephone dumped) by 3 different men. There are just "women I am more compatible with," you see. What does that mean? Well, one of them had the balls to tell me: there are loads of women out there who are attractive, single, intelligent and WANT TO HAVE KIDS.

It really sucks. Especially when one's friends insist on saying, "You know, probably the reason you're still alone is your stance on children." GEE THANKS, I HADN'T THOUGHT OF THAT.

Here's the thing. I know the odds are not in my favor. I know there are probably only a handful of men on the planet who don't necessarily want to have children. I know that the chances of any of those men sharing my particular religious and political leanings is even smaller. So maybe I've been a bit ridiculous expecting to find someone who falls within those parameters. Maybe I ought to give up the dream, or at least stop expecting it to come true. Better to be pleasantly surprised some day when I'm 42, perhaps :(

...And then he had to open his mouth

Number of dates in the present week: 5

Number of men I am intrigued by: 1

Number of honest conversations I have had about the lack of chemistry with guys I feel nothing for: 0

I went out with Gerard again last night. Ma made me. She loves farms and Gerard wants to be a farmer someday. He stresses the joy and freedom of being able to walk outside starkers and take your underwear off the drying line.

"Do I look like a girl who will ever hang clothes on a line outside to dry? Or run out of underwear?" I asked incredulously. He just laughed. Fortunately, I liked Gerard (he was the only guy in this week's dates who caught my attention), so he got a pass.

Last night, he came over, met Laura, walked around town, and came with me to the wine bar, where we ate pizza and beer. He took a while to warm up, but when I asked whether he was shy or untalkative, he said shy so I forgave him. Then, we got a blanket and spread it all out on the hill by the lake in front of my house and looked at the stars for a few hours while a delightful breeze blew over us and the windmill purred across the street. It was all very wonderful until he opened his mouth and started talking...

...about what "dating" looks like ideally. And what do you think dating looks like ideally to Gerard Butler, ladies and gentlemen? Courtship. ewwwwwwwwwww. I shudder just recalling the conversation. He said that he believes "dating" should allow him to have many such experiences (completely platonic nights under the stars with a girl he is lying a solid foot away from) until voila! God suddenly reveals to him, "This is the one I want you to pursue."

I am such an unaccountably shy person when it comes to voicing my opinions that I merely said, "Well, that is pure crap. That's the exact opposite of what I think dating should look like!! I hate all those Joshua Harris books about kissing dating goodbye and all that. Everyone I know who believes in the courtship mentality is crazy and socially deluded." I have got to start controlling myself.

So I don't really know where that leaves us. I assumed that all that meant he is one of those guys who don't believe in kissing a girl until he is pretty much engaged to her. And although I like him a lot, if that is the case, adios amigo. I don't like you that much. I need me some smooches.

Ted

Speaking of Christy and pearls of wisdom, I was reminded anew of her exhortations against judging books by their internet covers today.

Meet Ted: 6'4'', 32 years old, blue eyes, scruffy/wavy hair, one-dimpled smile (what is it with all the men?!?), very charming and funny via email. I met him today for lunch. It may have been the single most painfully awkward date of my life, but I don't know. There was just NOTHING there. We tried to talk. We tried to laugh. I tried to eat shrimp (no use, they still taste like cooked thumbs to me). He was impossibly cute and I was impossibly charming. But there it was at face value: he was nothing like Internet Ted.

Internet Ted wrote me witty and interesting facebook messages, always egging me on and eager to hear more. Real-Life Ted was monosyllabic and straight-faced. I couldn't imagine being comfortable enough to ever want to kiss him. And I wondered:

Is the internet killing my dating life instead of reinvigorating it?

In the old days (read: 1980s), men would have been forced to meet a woman like me in social settings and ask me out in person if we both felt a connection. But that doesn't happen now. Now, we look for someone who is compatible with us on paper and then we try to force a spark when there isn't one there. It makes for some very awkward positions. What do you do when the guy you found on paper isn't the guy who shows up at the bar? Do you tell him right away, "Hey, you're terrific and I sure did have a good time emailing you... but I'm just not sensing the right chemistry here." Or do you keep putting that off, thinking that maybe he really IS the same guy you saw on paper but it takes him awhile (a month? two months?) to warm up? At what point do you tell him, "You're not who I thought you might be"?

I think it was clear to both Ted and I that we didn't have the right connection. But I'm not sure it was clear to Jared, who took me out last night. That was our third date, and we could be next door neighbors for the level of politeness we display to each other. He is maybe the sweetest guy I've ever met. And as Laura points out tirelessly, he has a great job, great car, great pet Great Dane (I can't help it, I'm a sucker), and he's very cute. I just don't feel any sparks. Every time I'm with him, it is painfully obvious and I feel so badly knowing that I've got to tell him at some point and that he'll likely be disappointed (he brought me flowers last night. we had champagne to celebrate my new job!) But I just honestly don't feel the connection!

Side note: I didn't feel ANY connection with Nick From New York when we first met 2 years ago, either. It took a long time being friends for that interest to develop.

I think this is where it helps that I'm watching The Bachelorette. She seems to be pretty decent at cutting guys loose if it's best for them and for her. I tried to point this similarity out to Laura, who grudgingly agreed, but then felt compelled to state, "Well I HAVE had chemistry with a lot of guys who ended up being complete losers. So maybe no sparks is just fine!" Maybe. But I can't seem to convince my heart.

And in any case, if the internet is undermining my dating ability, at least reality TV is helping it.

The Strong, Silent Type

I met a guy for coffee last night. I wasn't sure I wanted to go... I've had enough coffee to last me for years; and it was stiflingly hot; and the man in question had confessed to seeing my profile online months ago but not contacting me because, "the personality profile you have isn't one I typically mesh with at all." Great. Thanks for doing me the honor, buddy. But I made myself go because I'm trying to turn over a new leaf, a leaf in which I am able to find my prince out of sheer volume of frogs I meet for coffee. Plus, Christy told me that you can't judge your interest in or connection with someone just off of a picture and a profile: some guys are bad spellers; MOST guys are bad picture takers. You've just got to keep meeting frogs till you find one that's promising.

That's why I was a little nonplussed when I showed up at Starbucks to be greeted by Gerard Butler.

Of course I didn't realize he was Gerard Butler at first. I was too sidetracked by his tall, brooding, deep-eyed handsomness. And the fact that he had only one, really deep dimple on the right side of his face. FOCUS!!! No, no, I didn't make the connection until he was in the middle of telling me about being a training officer for the military and I had to shout, "Holy crap! You look exactly like Gerard Butler!!!!!!!!" He started laughing, whether because of my enthusiasm or because I obviously couldn't concentrate on what he was talking about I don't know.

"I'm sorry, I just had to say it! Why are you laughing? Have you heard that before, do you get that a lot?"

"Yeah, I've heard it before," he said.

"Well, don't be offended. Geez, people tell me that all the time. I obviously bear a more striking resemblance to him than you do, but still..."

Anyway. I talked to Gerard for 2 hours, at which point the conversation lulled and I said, "So, what do you think, are you ready to go?"

And instead of saying, "No, I'm having a great time talking to you! Tell me more!" or even saing, "I guess we ought to, it's getting kind of late, but I've sure had a blast with you!" he said, "Yeah. I think so."

I looked at him blankly. "Okay."

"Well, thanks, I had a fun time," he said.

"Yeah well," I replied airly, "I'm a fun person, what can I say?" No way in hell was I going to tell Mr. Inscrutable that I had had a nice time too. HAH! I had sat there most of the time trying to figure out what was going on behind his eyes. He gave the impression of making lots of value judgments and thinking many deep thoughts, but having no intention of letting them anywhere near the surface. I realized he was the strong, silent type.

And that's when I wondered: can I be who I really am with the silent type? Or will I just end up being Crazy Elle?

The thing I've noticed over the past several years, is that I change my personality depending on the guy I'm with; but unlike most other girls who change to be more LIKE their guy, I change the opposite way: to be as UNLIKE him as possible. If I'm with someone who is really self-confident and outgoing, I turn inward and and insecure. When I'm with someone who is nervous or self-effacing, I become effervesent and exuberant. I always feel like I need to go to the opposite extreme. For instance, last night, Gerard had been so quiet and reserved that I felt compelled to walk up to SEVERAL complete strangers and start chatting them up. I'm not kidding, I even got one email address. Gerard's aloofness was making me uncomfortable (what was he thinking, dammit!??!?), so I overcompensated by being as outgoing as I possibly could. Plus, let's be honest, if a guy is interested in you, you'll know, right? And I was getting the impression that he couldn't care less...

"Well, see ya!" I said, as I walked to my car.

He laughed at me. Laughed? Why is he laughing? Damn him!!!!

"Would it be okay if I called you sometime?" asked Gerard as he walked up to his Jeep.

"Eh? Why? I thought I scared you off. You know... with the personality. and the not wanting kids. I don't get it. Man, you're difficult to read."

That is when Gerard walked over to where I was standing, pinned me against my car and kissed me passionately under the glow of the moonlight, in front of all of the other Starbucks customers, who began applauding wildly and whistling for us!

Okay, I lied, that did not happen. But he did shove his hands into his pockets, walk over to my car and say, "I'm hard to read? Man, I'm sorry."

"Oh. Oh. It's okay. UM, maybe I'll be seeing ya..."

And that was how we left it.

A Reassessment of The List

I am one of those people who likes list... give me a list any day so I remember to go on a walk, send Dad a Father's Day card, and cut my own bangs when I get home from work (saw them in the bathroom, they're getting too long). There was a time when I could remember these types of things without lists. I had a excellent memory and near-total recall. But then I entered my current profession and all that went to pot. So now I have lists. And I like having my goals at my fingertips on little pieces of brightly colored paper, where I can be reminded of all that I hope to accomplish, even if it is as mundane as a haircut. Maybe having a list makes me feel like I'm getting something done, not just spinning my wheels into eternity. Or perhaps I just like Post-Its.

Lists are a woman thing. You will find nary a man anywhere who carries around scraps of paper and makes checkmarks on it as he goes about his day. Women, on the other hand, make lists for everything: groceries, errands, friends to buy Christmas presents for... even Black Lists of friends they are mad at :) But the most important list of all, in any woman's mind, is a list so prominent and awe-inspiring that it doesn't even bear adjectives. It is known simply as "The List." As in, "How does he line up on The List?"

You know which one I mean, of course. The List of attributes each woman is looking for in a prospective spouse. The List varies from woman to woman but is a given for each.

And for some reason, I've never really made one. I guess I figured it was going to be hard enough to find someone who "fit" me without subjecting each and every guy I met to a List of non-negotiables. When forced to articulate what I am looking for though, I speculated, "Strong faith, good-looking, decisive/leader style, intelligent, and tall-ish." Bonus points if someone also had freckles and/or dimples, which I am a sucker for. So that list is 5 things long. You would be surprised, though, at how hard it is to find someone in this area who meets that List and isn't married/taken. There are a lot of men who share my faith, but they aren't necessarily intelligent and articulate men. Or there are a fair amount of men who can speak intelligently on different subjects, but they look like overgrown science camp geeks. Or they're cute but they lack the balls to DO anything.

And that leads me to where I am today... re-evaluating The List. I know a lot of my readers will be horrified at the conclusion I've reached, but I feel like it's been a long time coming.

I have a friend from college who has, like me, really only been in 2 very serious relationships (and a lot of non-serious ones :) She took a lot of flack from the rest of our friends for her last relationship (3 1/2 years) with Z because her boyfriend didn't share her faith. But as she told me at the time, "I lined up with Kevin [1st boyfriend] on the 1 MAJOR issue of common faith. But on the 99 issues that came after that on my list, he fell flat. But I pressed ahead thinking, 'oh faith! that's everything! that will make up for all the rest!' It wasn't enough. And now I'm happy with Z. Sure, he doesn't share the same fundamental building block of faith with me. But he is perfect for me on 99 other counts. And in the end, I think that's worth that 1 missing thing at the top of my list." Of course, it didn't ultimately work out with Z either, but that wasn't because of the faith issue. And I'm pretty sure my friend still stands by her statement that the top of the list is negotiable if the 99% of the list at the bottom is solid.

To be honest, I was horrified when she told me all this, a few years ago. I was still very dogmatic, legalistic, and, in some sense, idealistic about all of this. But I've been exposing myself to online dating and meeting lots of new people; I've been looking at my parents' marriage (iffy), which is based on faith instead of the bottom 99% of The List; and I've been reading the statistics on divorce (read: unhappy endings) for marriages between those who share my faith -- same unhappy endings as everyone else. And all of this metacognition -- I'm sorry that's the teacher in me -- has forced me to the conclusion that finding someone who is a "solid, strong Christian" as all my married and brainwashed friends always used to insist was necessary, just doesn't hold the same importance for me that it used to. In fact, I would even go so far as to say that having dated men who were allegedly "solid, strong Christians" has pushed me further away from wanting to be with anyone like that again. For the first time in my life, I'm going on dates with men who are not "believers" (how I resent that term now!). And I've got to say, they seem a lot nicer and a lot more genuine than many other guys I've dated from the church... guys who always talked about praying for me and guarding my heart (ick) and never really had the stones to do anything.

So, pray for me if you must. My parents certainly will be once they inevitably learn (hopefully after I get married) that I don't really care about dating someone from "the faith" anymore. But this is what comes from being 29, single, cynical, and now worldly-wise. I don't regret it.

Men! A Song of Mourning, Part 2

I don't know if I told you, but a girl I knew from high school recently took me aside and informed me that I've been dating gay men.

Yes, that's right.

We ran into each other at a party a few weeks ago and she said, "I feel like I need to watch out for you a bit, you're pretty naive and we did go to high school together. So, as you're going out on dates with guys from church, please be aware that there are a lot of guys in the church we attend who are gay."

"I'm sorry. Are you telling me that I'VE BEEN DATING GAY GUYS!?!?!?"

"Look, I don't want to name any names, okay? But my parents are therapists so they've counseled a lot of men who are struggling with their sexuality. And also... well, I'm really good friends with a lot of guys. So I know... things."

"WHAT KIND OF THINGS!?!?! I don't understand what I'm hearing right now."

"Look, all I'm saying is, I fell in love with a guy in high school and wasted a lot of life on him and he ended up coming out. I don't want that to happen to you. So you need to be aware, as you go out with church guys, that -- because our church teaches that homosexuality is wrong -- a lot of the men who struggle with it are trying to overcome it by pursuing women who go to our church. I don't want you to end up with your heart broken like I did, that's all."

"I've always thought that I'm attracted to men who seem gay. My ex, for instance. I thought he was gay when I met him. He wore really tight t shirts and talked with a bit of a lisp. He worked out a TON and was really close to his mom. Do you think that might be why he pannicked and decided he couldn't marry me?"

"Sounds like it."

"NO, there's just no way. He was a very good kisser."

She looked at me strangely. "That means nothing. They can be excellent kissers and even have sex with girls. That doesn't mean they aren't struggling with homosexuality."

I was numb. If they could sleep with women and enjoy kissing, how on earth was I supposed to tell if someone was gay and I was just a beard??

Charity gave me a sympathetic pat on the arm. "It's better for you to know now and be on your guard, rather than finding out years down the road after you've given your heart away. I think gay men tend to gravitate toward girls like us... we're both very artsy and dramatic and love singing and dancing and that sort of thing. You just want to be careful."

Careful! Hah! Careful is the understatement of the century. Since speaking with Charity all those weeks ago, I have been consumed with suspicion regarding ANY guy who even speaks to me, much less asks me out. And according to all the googling I've done, even the most unsuspecting guys can be gay, the ones with the manliest demeanors and the most committed girlfriends.

I told a friend who works at the store with me about my disturbing discovery and she said, "Oh yeah, I know! At X University, there's a massive underground gay population. My friend is a part of it. There are apparently tons and tons of guys in relationships with girls at school, but then they all sneak out at night and meet up with each other to... you know... have fun."

"And these guys all have girlfriends?"

"Well, there are LOTS of guys, so not all. But many of them do. They're not ready to come out yet, though, so their girlfriends have no idea. My friend even told me one of the guys is getting ready to propose to his girlfriend."

"That is so messed up," I muttered. As if it wasn't hard enough for me to find a decent guy among the unmarried men of my aquaintance, now I have to worry about finding one who isn't in deep denial about his sexuality, as well.

But I kind of do hope that Max was gay.

Men! A Song of Mourning, Part 1

I told my friend Sam that I was rooting for this guy (Frank Schwartz) to win The Bachelorette this season. The reasons are three-fold: 1.) I like Frank. 2.) Ali likes Frank. 3.) Frank looks like Samantha's fiance, Dan, who was my best guy friend in high school.

I never, EVER watch reality tv. It makes me too nervous. In reality, people screw up and act like morons and forget the words to their songs. I don't want to watch someone else's embarassment on national tv! It's embarassing enough just hearing the commentary on the radio the next day.

However, Laura loves The Bachelorette so I grudgingly watched the episode she tivo'd last week. I wouldn't go so far as to say that I'm hooked now, but it was certainly interesting. For one thing, because it was all so contrived and fake. In what world do you fall in love with someone after one date!? And also, Wake up, Ali! These are GUYS! They're competitive by nature. They would be saying you're the girl of their dreams even if you looked like Mr. Ed.

Despite my yelling at the tv and rampant annoyance with Ali, I succumbed to Frank's charms. He just looked SO much like Danny! It was hard to hate him, so I chose him as my favorite and urged Ali to give him a rose, keeping him "safe" on the show for another week. Luckily, Ali was as taken with Frank as I was. There was much kissing and canoodling and Frank said, "It's going to be really hard for me to see you going out with all these other guys after this. I feel so close to you and like you're my girlfriend already."

Okay, a little creepy, but maybe it was just a super good first date and he was talking about where he saw it going.

That's why it was so disturbing to open up People magazine last night at the grocery store and see that Frank has been lying to Ali (and ME!!!) and that he has a girlfriend back home.

A-hole!!!!! What is wrong with you!? What is wrong with all men!? The guys who seem to good to be true are really in love with someone else. The guys who aren't in love with someone else lack the stones to even ask a girl out. And all the other guys are gay.

And Then There Were None

I apologize to all my fans for the lack of posts, but Myrtle the Thousand Year Old Computer doesn't let me post more than once a month ;)

To pick up our story where we last left off, I met Brad for drinks at a cafe near work. Brace yourselves.

It was the best first date of my entire life. Sparks. Nonstop conversation. Alcohol induced flirting. It was perfect. In fact, when Christy got home, I ran out into the garage in my pajamas to tell her just how great our date was. There hadn't been any awkward pauses, we liked all the same things... I couldn't have written a better first date.

Then Brad left for Costa Rica at 4 a.m.

And when he came back... nothing.

No, really. He called me and asked me out, and I said -- bubbly and excited -- "Great! What do you have in mind?" It was all downhill from there.

Brad had nothing in mind. He hadn't thought that far in advance, so we ended up going out for happy hour AGAIN after work. The second time, we had zero sparks. No, really. There was nothing there. I tried to ask him about Costa Rica, I tried to ask him about his week... he was a lump on a log. Then he gave me the line about liking to be friends with people before becoming serious.

We can see where this is going, no?

When we walked back to our cars, I barely saw the point in giving him a hug goodbye. I knew I'd seen the last of him!

And I wondered, what is it that causes things that start out so great to just fizzle out? Isn't that supposed to happen 7-12 years into marriage? Surely not on a 2nd date!

So, I was surprised when Brad called me about a week later and asked him out again. But I said yes, absolutely, because -- after all -- anybody can have an off day, and I knew there was potential for chemistry. But I was unwilling to let Brad pick the 3rd date because I was tired of bars at happy hour. So I suggested he teach me how to paint something: a flower, say, or a tree. Brad was very excited. I also invited him to a free happy hour my friend won on a local radio station, and he said he would be there.

Which is why it is all so very odd that Brad called at 10:09 a few nights later and left me a lame voicemail cancelling our date because of "plans with a buddy." And other than an even lamer follow-up text to make sure I'd gotten the lame voicemail, I never heard from Brad again.

But he did just post about a million pictures of himself with a cute blond chick on facebook this evening. Clearly, the buddy.

I just finished a book called Have Him At Hello. In it, a Harvard MBA documents her findings after interviewing over one thousand guys who never called women back for a 2nd or 3rd date. In many cases she spent an hour per man conducting these "Exit Interviews" and finding out what the women could have done differently to get that call-back.

It was things like: don't EVER refer to an ex, even by "my ex" or "we" or "our"
Wear a girly skirt or dress because men like nurterers
Grow your hair out
Don't refer to any kind of an illness, even to say that you beat it and it made you a stronger person

... and other things of that nature. Important to note: the author wasn't trying to make women be someone they're not, but rather to let them PORTRAY the image that won't raise any red flags for men on 1st or 2nd dates so that we'll eventually GET to tell them who we really are.

She gave the example that she consumes about 16 Diet Dr Peppers a day. She once revealed this on a first date, thinking it was cute and funny. But since the guy didn't know her, he just thought it showed an obsessive and weird nature. He told all his friends about Dr Pepper girl and never asked her out again. She said the point is not to change her Dr Pepper habits, but to judiciously not reveal too much information until a guy has had a chance to really see how amazing she is in other areas.

Men, this author said, are LOOKING to eliminate women from their dating pool, not to "find" the right one. They've got literally millions of online profiles at their beck and call and in order to be less overwhelmed, they want to get rid of as many girls as possible, as soon as possible. So when you reveal that you drink an insane amount of carbonated prune juice, the guy thinks, "obsessive and crazy, FINISHED." When you wear sexy jeans instead of a ruffled skirt, he thinks, "sleazeball, FINISHED." Ergo, the goal is to get you to the 5th and 6th and 7th date where your amazing personality comes through and your little quirks and weirdnesses can be put more in perspective.

Too bad I didn't read this book before my 2nd date with Brad.... I'm pretty sure I broke all of them. Well. Here's to the next one.

Nick

I feel I should state, for the record, that I don't really want to be "on the prowl." See, I went to New York a month and a half ago to see a friend. "Friend" meaning someone I'd met online a few years ago and -- despite all the odds -- actually become close to. We'll call him Nick. I didn't know what to expect, but we actually had a really great time together. Or at least I did. Unfortunately, I overestimated Nick's level of interest in me (My roommate remonstrates me constantly on this point). All this time, I thought that the door for "Us" was still open in his mind when, in reality, we were firmly entrenched in the "Just Friends" territory. I think we both felt the connection when I visited, but afterward I wanted to pursue it and he didn't really know what he wanted.

That's what led me back to the dating pool.

It was kind of a desperate measure to shore up my flagging self-esteem.

Also, the soundtrack of my life seemed to be a John Mayer song: "I'm tired of being alone. SO HURRY UP AND GET HERE!!"

But enough of that.

Dating Made Simple, Part II

Take Jim, for instance. We met at a popular bookstore/coffee shop, the easier for me to bail when he inevitably ended up being crazy. Also, Lindsay, who looked exactly like me but with dreds and multiple piercings, sat conveniently 1 foot away, pretending not to be associated with me. It was her responsibility to rescue me if my date tried to kidnap me in broad daylight, in a crowded bookstore, in a teeming mall, on a Saturday afternoon (sheltered preacher’s daughters worry about that sort of thing)

.1.) I saw Jim across the crowded bookstore. He was wearing HEAVY jewelry: a MATCHING necklace and bracelet. Not cool guy accessories but looks-like-women's-jewelry-only-much-clunkier stuff. -2 cool points.

2.) Jim approached and shook my hand instead of trying to kiss me like some blind dates were wont to do. +2 cool points.

3.) Even with the distance a handshake allowed for, I could still smell the cologne emanating from every square inch of his body. -2 cool points.

4.) Jim remarked excitedly and repeatedly on my great beauty. Ambivalent -- flattering but weird? 0 points

5.) Jim asked me what I would like to drink so that he could buy me a coffee. +2 cool points.

6.) He was VERY insistent that I try a caramel macchiato, despite my already knowing exactly what they taste like. -2 cool points.

7.) Jim bought me bottled water, solicitously, after I won the caramel macchiato battle. +2 cool points.

8.) After we sat down and began chatting, Jim referred repeatedly to African-Americans as "colored people." -12 points.

9.) Jim then made casual reference to his 9-year-old daughter, whom he had left out in the mall somewhere. -2 points for failing to mention that he had a daughter and -2 more points for reckless abandonment of a 9-year-old.

10.) Jim referred to the fact that he earned $100,000 last year. -2 points for crassness. And -2 more for lying.

11.) Jim talked about his baby mama as "addicted to methamphetamines, so I had to divorce her and now she's living in a trailer in De Soto." -2 points.

12.) Jim then began regaling me with a tale about how on another first date, the woman leveled with him after 10 minutes, saying, "Look I have to be honest with you… I was raped by my stepfather when I was 12 and I have a son by him." Jim's response to this? To tell her he had to go to the bathroom and then jet out of the restaurant... which was a Denny’s. -10 points.... some for telling this story, some for being a terrible person, and some just because he was REALLY starting to annoy me.

13.) At this point in the conversation, Jim asked where I lived, if I lived alone, where I went to church, and if I was the cause of my last relationship’s demise. (All of these things were answered with incredible nebulousness on my part) -50 points.

14.) Jim repeatedly made mention of our future dates, which were apparently a given for him. -2 points.

15.) As I began to panic, Jim showed me the places on his forehead where he used to have screws. -2 points just because that is weird, random, and reminiscent of Frankenstein.

I don't know how many points he eventually ended up in the hole because I started feeling claustrophobic and began looking for escape routes. So when Jim said, "Well, I'd definitely like to see you again!" I did a first for me…

I actually TOLD a guy, face-to-face, right then and there, "You know, it sounds like we are looking for different things right now, so I don't think that's a good idea, but it was so nice to meet you!"

Only days before, I would have felt too badly to be honest. I would have avoided his phone calls until they got increasingly annoying and then emailed him a let-down. But that Elisa had vanished after my date with Jim! My mom had unwittingly cured her of a good deal of passive aggressiveness by insisting on online dating!

After Jim left to find his poor daughter, I gathered my things and, shaking my head, threw my empty bottle of water away. A dude with a Mohawk and lots of piercings looked at me and said,

“It’s tough, huh?”

“You have no idea,” I replied. And then I left to find Lindsay, who hadn’t been able to hear our conversation to her satisfaction, and who had therefore thrown me to the wolves.

Dating Made Simple

A bad aspect of being a preacher’s daughter is that you don’t get to start dating until you’re about 53, more of less. And even then, your parents are going to chime in with all sorts of advice that’s about a thousand years old. You think I’m exaggerating, but they really thought we were pushing the envelope because we kissed guys we weren’t engaged to.

Actually, kissing is a good way to show you how behind the times we really were. When I began dating my first real boyfriend in my 20’s, I started freaking out because I didn’t know how to kiss a guy! What if he tried to kiss me and I just stood there like a lump on a log!? All 4 of my previous kisses had been the type of pecks that 5-year-olds gave each other, and I was extremely worried about my lack of lip lock know-how.

Because of this, I enlisted AmyRose, who was always much more street savvy than me. Amy thought I would probably benefit from visual aides in this department so she drew a man’s face on her old bedroom wall (Mom and Dad were planning on re-painting it anyway). She added lipgloss all over “his” lips, I guess to indicate where they were since my eyes would presumably be closed for most of the routine. She then had me practice kissing the wall repeatedly. There are pictures of this, but I prefer they stay buried at the bottom of my file cabinet and never see the light of day.

So as you can see, my parents had conspired to keep dating as out-of-reach as possible up to the point of our leaving home. (After that, it was out-of-reach just because I was afraid of looking like an ignorant loser). This is why it was so fortunate for them when online dating exploded onto the scene. Finally! my parents thought, Dating in a way that requires ZERO physical contact! Just what we always wanted for our kids! They didn’t realize that you can only talk to a person for so long via email before you’re expected to meet him, but whatever.

My mother immediately set about trying to convince all of us to sign up for an online dating service. She figured we would plug in our statistics: medium height, green eyes, Protestant, and voila! the perfect man of God would appear via the information superhighway and woo us with his devotion and knowledge of ancient near eastern civilizations.

I believe that AmyRose was the only one of us never to succumb to Mom’s admonitions – she instead wrote all over the bedroom walls, in marker, about how dumb some of Mom’s ideas were.

Lindsay had to lie about her age to sign up, which is probably not a good way to begin a dating relationship anyway. Ryan tried it once or twice for a few days apiece. But I, ladies and gentlemen, insisted on beating my head against the brick wall of online dating for quite a few months, I am sorry to say.

Have you ever watch 3rd Rock From the Sun? I love that show. It's about a bunch of aliens disguised as people, and they're living together as a family unit, trying to figure out how to do life on earth. When Dr. Solomon finds out about "tipping" servers at a restaurant, he responds in typical Dr. Solomon fashion, which I don’t remember exactly, but it goes something like this:


"Now, my good man, you are our server this evening. Here is a stack of one-dollar bills sitting on the table. Every time you do something right, I will put a dollar over here for you. Every time you do something stupid, I will take a dollar out of that pile and give it back to me."


That is a good way to describe how my initial blind dates went... me adding and subtracting points in my head, based on the inanity and stupidity of the man sitting across from me...

Phantom Limbs

In keeping with the way I always do things, at the end of a relationship (even a relationship that never actually happened), I delve into the world of online dating. Why? Because I hope that if I distract myself with enough would-be princes, the one who got away won't matter as much.

I've had mixed results.

On one hand, I never actually succeed in anesthetizing the pain of losing someone you care about. On the other hand, I've made 3 pretty good friends over the years. Only 1 of them have I actually met in person. Another one, I no longer talk to, as he is married and has a Top Secret job with the military now. And the last, I have an open-ended date with, whenever he eventually finds himself in my neck of the woods. (Who knows? Maybe he'll end up being The One).

But, despite all my dalliances, I find that Rejection always hurts. You grasp at the Phantom Limb, convinced it still itches even though you KNOW it's not even there anymore.

So perhaps I can distract myself by telling you the story of how I got to this place...

The Beginning of The Princess And The Frogs

Once upon a time there was an average looking Princess, and she did not live in a castle. She lived in the basement of one of her co-workers because the economy was really bad and the King and Queen didn't want her living with them. Politics.

But the castle situation was just one of her worries. The bigger issue at hand was that the average marrying age of most storybook princesses was about 16. That raises some ethical issues, I know, but what can you do? The average marrying age of most people in her village seemed to be about 25... and the average marrying age of the surrounding country? Well that was 25.6 for women. HOLY &*&%! When did that happen?!? Is that right!?

To be fair, the Princess should have been married a few years ago, but that damn knight hopped back on his donkey (it was NOT a white horse) and high-tailed it outta there. So here she sits, in the basement, typing away, wondering what will happen next.

Hi. I'm the Princess. I've had a string of bad luck in the man department. I'm sure most of it's my fault. I waited waaaay too long to start dating (I think I was about 24). Then I didn't have enough experience to recognize a good thing (nothing to compare it to). Then I got ditched by the prince mentioned above (bastard!). After that, I started kissing frogs, and that's what this blog's about.

Recently, I found myself on the other end of the fairy tale: a decent guy kissed me and found that I did not turn into his princess, but instead maintained my green, warty appearance. That's when I decided that it just wasn't enough to be someone else's frog-princess. You have to make your own luck. So to keep from howling in frustration, I am entering the world of online dating. You will read about my escapades with frogs and princes here, at http://www.theprincessandthefrogs.blogspot.com/ Subscribe or put it in your bookmarks. The best is yet to come :)