Smartypants: "So you're not interested in going any further."
Me: "No, I'm just not that into you."
Just kidding. I didn't say that.
I said: "I don't think so. I like you, you're a great kisser, and I love our sass convos but I just don't see this going anywhere."
fini.
Friday, April 29, 2011
(S)He's Just Not That Into You
A revealing conversation via the text message:
SmartyPants: "So...?"
Me: "?"
SmartyPants: "Did you still want to hang sometime?"
(Sir, did I ever say I didn't? I'm confused how you being busy for the better part of a week post-date, giving a lame attempt at hanging out on short notice, and two days time passing meant that I am the one that has somehow dropped a ball here)
SmartyPants: "You always seem to be busy and I don't want to pester you if I'm barking up the wrong tree."
(Again, Mr. "I'm booked till Tuesday," I'm not sure how I got the "busy girl" label. Yes, I'm busy, but so are you. Ask me out on a real date. Plan a date. You are suffering from my comparison to another man, and that blows, but man up!)
Me: "Funny, either we're busier than we think or busy and free on opposite schedules. And I can't quite get a beat on you, Eilers."
This text was written six different ways before I settled on this. The limitations of text are clear when you get into something like this becuase it probably requires a voice or in-person, or at least emails ability to be wordy without sending the 5-message long crazy person text that I dread and avoid like the plague. The funny thing is, he gave me my out. I could have simply said "yeah, I am pretty busy and it's just hard to find time to get out right now," which would have gently spared his feelings and me having to figure out why he's suddenly not so cute and sassy and more elusive and annoyingly ambiguous about EVERYTHING.
I am a fickle, fickle girl.
But I want to make sure that it's not totally me.
Smartypants: "a beat on me?"
Sigh. This is annoying me. Why? Because Smartypants didn't get his nickname from being dumb. He's smart. He knows what I'm saying, but he wants me to elaborate without having to defend himself or explain why he plays it so close to the cuff.
Aside: I understand playing it close to the cuff. I also play it close to the cuff. So, I'm not indicting him for this trait, just saying that between two peple prone that direction that is probably not a future. At least not an easy one. DD asked questions and I had no problem answering and returning. I may just need someone a little more...forceful. This isn't news. Just need to remind myself. Plus, fine line between forceful and smother-y.
I repeat: I am a fickle, fickle girl.
Me: "beat on you/hard to read/idea of what you want. You're hard to read."
There. Said. Explain, Smartypants.
Smartypants: "lol, how do you figure."
I literally put my forehead on my desk in defeat.
Me: "by virtue of the fact that I can't read you"
Patience is waning.
Smartypants: "Is that why it's so hard to get you to like me?"
I don't like you anymore, Smartypants. It's official. You're cute. You kiss great. You have a smartass sense of humor that clearly gets you in the door.
I don't have an exit strategy though so instead of responding to his text, I leave my desk and go make my lunch and mull a response. I think about saying "I like you, but I just don't get you" but that doesn't seem right having just realized that I don't think I DO, in fact, like him anymore. Or at least not enough to drive north of the river for. I think about asking "what makes you think I don't like you?" but this seems like the kind of thing that he would say and I don't want to be having a pot/kettle conversation here.
Finally, I just write back "probably" followed by "we're two busy people who clearly both play it close to the cuff which is resulting in an inability to connect on any level besides the one where we both like to be smartasses - I'm probably as hard to read as you are."
There, that sounds fair, honest and final. I decide to go get a thing of jello out of the office fridge in order to avoid looking at the response text which I think could be either a resounding 'fuck you' or nothing at all.
I've got to refine the exit strategy.
SmartyPants: "So...?"
Me: "?"
SmartyPants: "Did you still want to hang sometime?"
(Sir, did I ever say I didn't? I'm confused how you being busy for the better part of a week post-date, giving a lame attempt at hanging out on short notice, and two days time passing meant that I am the one that has somehow dropped a ball here)
SmartyPants: "You always seem to be busy and I don't want to pester you if I'm barking up the wrong tree."
(Again, Mr. "I'm booked till Tuesday," I'm not sure how I got the "busy girl" label. Yes, I'm busy, but so are you. Ask me out on a real date. Plan a date. You are suffering from my comparison to another man, and that blows, but man up!)
Me: "Funny, either we're busier than we think or busy and free on opposite schedules. And I can't quite get a beat on you, Eilers."
This text was written six different ways before I settled on this. The limitations of text are clear when you get into something like this becuase it probably requires a voice or in-person, or at least emails ability to be wordy without sending the 5-message long crazy person text that I dread and avoid like the plague. The funny thing is, he gave me my out. I could have simply said "yeah, I am pretty busy and it's just hard to find time to get out right now," which would have gently spared his feelings and me having to figure out why he's suddenly not so cute and sassy and more elusive and annoyingly ambiguous about EVERYTHING.
I am a fickle, fickle girl.
But I want to make sure that it's not totally me.
Smartypants: "a beat on me?"
Sigh. This is annoying me. Why? Because Smartypants didn't get his nickname from being dumb. He's smart. He knows what I'm saying, but he wants me to elaborate without having to defend himself or explain why he plays it so close to the cuff.
Aside: I understand playing it close to the cuff. I also play it close to the cuff. So, I'm not indicting him for this trait, just saying that between two peple prone that direction that is probably not a future. At least not an easy one. DD asked questions and I had no problem answering and returning. I may just need someone a little more...forceful. This isn't news. Just need to remind myself. Plus, fine line between forceful and smother-y.
I repeat: I am a fickle, fickle girl.
Me: "beat on you/hard to read/idea of what you want. You're hard to read."
There. Said. Explain, Smartypants.
Smartypants: "lol, how do you figure."
I literally put my forehead on my desk in defeat.
Me: "by virtue of the fact that I can't read you"
Patience is waning.
Smartypants: "Is that why it's so hard to get you to like me?"
I don't like you anymore, Smartypants. It's official. You're cute. You kiss great. You have a smartass sense of humor that clearly gets you in the door.
I don't have an exit strategy though so instead of responding to his text, I leave my desk and go make my lunch and mull a response. I think about saying "I like you, but I just don't get you" but that doesn't seem right having just realized that I don't think I DO, in fact, like him anymore. Or at least not enough to drive north of the river for. I think about asking "what makes you think I don't like you?" but this seems like the kind of thing that he would say and I don't want to be having a pot/kettle conversation here.
Finally, I just write back "probably" followed by "we're two busy people who clearly both play it close to the cuff which is resulting in an inability to connect on any level besides the one where we both like to be smartasses - I'm probably as hard to read as you are."
There, that sounds fair, honest and final. I decide to go get a thing of jello out of the office fridge in order to avoid looking at the response text which I think could be either a resounding 'fuck you' or nothing at all.
I've got to refine the exit strategy.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
A Wednesday Morning Dating Quandary and others tales...
This morning I have a small delimma, but let me rewind to catch you up on the goings ons of last weekend.
Friday date was with DD. It. was. awesome. We met at Mac's Sports Bar in Overland Park - a little further north than I typically go out in the OP area but I was game for something new and appreciative of him having no problem picking a place and a time.
Great thing # 1 - he was CUTER in person than his pictures. I gather this to be a rare occurence. In pictures, he has dark hair, a longish (ugh) ginger goatee and is a tad heavyset. In real life, his hair and goatee are nicel trimmed, he's leaner and looks like he could be watching rugby at a pub in Ireland.
Great thing # 2 - he takes one look at me from head to toe, looks slightly flabbergasted and says "you look amazing. I feel underdressed."
We sit on the patio even though it's a little cool and chat about work, which segways to music since I work at a concert venue, which segways to sports of which we are both avid Chiefs fans. I find out more meaningful things in the first short hour about him than I have in 5 dates with Smartypants. What's more, the conversation has more CONTENT to it - we cover his backstory and mine, I find out he was in the Marines for 4 years out of school. He married his high school sweetheart who he met in youthgroup (which I take as a context clue that he was religious at SOME point at least). They met at 15 and while I can't suss out when they got divorced, I quickly rule out that he might be on the rebound trail when he mentioned that she is remarried.
We discuss lots but here are the highlights:
He has 2 daughters of whom he was the primary parent for at least 6 years. They are 9 and 10 now and clearly mean the world to him.
He is an accountant finishing up a degree in a accounting. He works for an accounting firm that is no a CPA firm (this means nothing to me, but that's what he said) and is trying to decide what he wants to do when he graduates - work for a firm or be in a CFO-type position to make better money or make less money and focus more on his homelife. (as someone making a sufficient amount of money and still focused on her homelife, I disagree that it's poor and happy or rich and miserable, but that's just me)
He has a great relationship with his ex and thinks she is a wonderful mother, but is clear to say that there relationship is not a personal one and only related to their girls. She became the primary parent of the kids when she came into some money after the death of a family member and was able to work from home.
He loves live music, and, as I suspected from his pictures, his tastes run towards indie, rock, and hard rock. He says he's been to lots of Ozzfests. I say I've never been to one, but I did go to a Rockfest once. As I've come to learn from other actual rock aficianados, he turns his nose up a little at this becuase Rockfest hosts the like of "Nickleback" which seems to be the bane of any real "rockers" musical existence.
His favorite Chiefs player is Tony Gonzales, who is my SECOND favorite Chiefs player.
When we move inside for a second drink, the conversation turns to dating at I think he's awesome but clearly automatically wonder why an awesome person is on match.com (self deprecation at its finest).
"I'm not going to meet people in bars. I have kids. I want to meet a person of substance. That's what I like about you...you're clearly a person of great substance"
This may be one of the nicest things anyone has ever said about me. He goes on to muddle around the fact that things didn't work out with his ex-wife because she didn't "get him."
My red flag radar perks up at this statement and goes quickly to a dark place of thinking of guys I've known who make similar statements. They're usually arrogant tool bags who think they're too cool for everyone else.
"Can you elaborate on that?" I ask.
He tries to and it basically sounds like he's conflicted between being a MAN with a capital "M" that was in the military and likes sports and does MANLY things and also being clearly a bit of a softy and an intellectual and VERY family oriented.
"In the dating world,"I surmise helpfully, "you often to have define yourself as ONE thing, and when you are two things from opposite ends of the spectrum that's really hard. Say if you are "responsible mother" but also "fun lover" - its hard to convey that without having to pick one or the other to promote yourself as and typically finding people who only like one or the other but not both in the same person"
His eyes widen and he says "Thank you for saying it better than I was."
We look at eachother and have a moment of shared understanding which makes my heart flutter.
We talk about our families. He has a strained relationship with his Dad and brother and oldest sister (who are FIFTEEN year older than him) but a good relationship with his sister who is a nurse. His mom died when he was just out of high school but I can tell he loved her a lot and misses her constantly. He dilvuges she was a red head. My mom is a nurse and sister is a social worker, so we gush on the emotional fortitude of our respective family members, which leads me to say "I'm making myself sound downright weak comparatively" as I lament that I don't have the same emotional fortitude as them and would cry all the time in their jobs.
He shakes his head. "Don't say that. Don't dismiss what you're doing. You're working a high-pressure job and all that goes along with that and still coming home and being a mom to a little guy and that's no small thing."
I turn around to see if there's a cupid standing on the bar who has just shot a damn arrow in my back.
To cap it all off, he walks me outside after I say I'd like to "to be continued" the evening and talks about what we can do next and if we have to wait a whole week to see one another and could we maybe do lunch midweek. He asks about activities I like, and while I warn that I suck at many activities due to relative lack of coordination and skill, I also say I'm up for anything. I appreciate that he's thinking ahead and thinking of things to DO that don't just involve sitting around drinking (or, as I think in my head, the proverbial "snuggle" that SmartyPants keeps asking for)
He hugs me sincerely, tightly, and pulls back to look at me. Instead of kissing me he says "you smell so good. I can't wait to see you again"
"Me either," I hear myself say, willing him to kiss me at the same time appreciating that he hasn't.
We smile at eachother and he heads for his car and I head for mine, grinning like an idiot.
I proceed, that fine Friday eve, to denounce Smartypants. I leave voicemails for friends touting his impending trip to the curb becuase of how shown up he just was. I got out with friends and blab about how curbside his ass is.
But by Saturday, I'm down from high and not sure that a) I know how to kick him curbside with any semblence of grace and b) that it's smart to hedge my bets after one date.
However, SmartyPants does NOT help his case Saturday.
Saturday morning DD texts and says "I hope I'm not too forward, but I thought this would be fun. May 13th is 96.5's adult "prom" at the Midland. Three bands. I thought you might dig it. So, woudl you be my prom date?"
I LOVE THIS. I can't write in capital letters or bold them enough to express how much I love this. It's 3 fricking weeks away and I still LOVE THIS. Let me count the ways: it shows initiative, it's interesting, it shows he's absorbed my interests and has aligned it with one of his own.
I say yes, and then a subsequent yes to a Wednesday lunch date. (I also love THIS because it's not afraid of a day date.) "I'm looking forward to getting to know you better" he says, and I hop in a pool with my 2-year-old for Saturday morning swim lessons swooning.
Smartypants, but comparison, texts later that day as I am heading to the dinner theatre with my mother to see "The Odd Couple."
"Just wanted to let you know you crossed my mind," the text says.
Well, I think, thank you, Smartypants. Thank you for deigning to let me cross your mind, and what's more, for texting me to tell me as much 4 days after our last date.
"How's your Saturday going?" I ask though.
"Very well," he says with what is becoming typical elusiveness. I read an article about "free information" that smart daters put out there. That is, when someone asks you a question like "how's your Saturday?" you have an opportunity to share fun things about yourself thereby deepening your partner's knowledge of yourself and the connection between you.
Hence, when he asks "yours?" I say "I'm on my way to the dinner theatre. Had fun today coloring easter eggs. An excellent day thus far."
See what I did here? I restablished my love for theatre and going out. I also acknowledged my love of holidays (which I am a fruitcake about, admittedly).
I get no other text, but I get busy and don't worry about it except to watch "The Odd Couple" and decide that the two boys I am not seeing are an odd couple indeed.
SmartyPants = 26 years old, unmarried, no kids
DD = 32 years old, divorced, 2 kids
And right now, SmartyPants, the 32-year-old is outgaming you.
DD and I confirm our Wednesday date on Monday via the facebook after I post a picture from work of me and Kevin Bacon from a recent work event.
"Your hair looks amazing in that picture with that red dress," he compliments. I reiterate my excitement for seeing him Wednesday.
To note, he didn't text Sunday, but did say "I hope you had a nice Easter." This is a nice balance of attention versus smothering.
SmartyPants since Sunday has been posting some decidedly emo things on his Facebook wall. People seem to be fawning over whatever conflict he's going through, but I know he's not a facebooker and wonder (GOD I'M VAIN) if he's trying to draw me out somehow. By Tuesday a facebook post that says simply "sigh" does draw me out.
"You are rocking some seriously angst fbook posts" I text in the afternoon when I can't work any longer at my job stuff without going cross-eyed.
"Thanks, lol," he says.
I sigh. Typical.
"It's from the lack of love lately" comes the next text.
I bristle. WTF. No, more firmly, WHAT. THE. FUCK.
"you're the one who was busy all weekend."
"Whatever, miss busy pants."
Oh, no sir, you don't know who you're messing with.
" "I'm booked till Tuesday" " I quote back at him mercilessly. For REAL? You're going to act like somehow I've dropped some ball or you're some wounded party after telling me STRAIGHT UP that you were "booked" for nearly a week after our last date, and then offering NO info as to what you were booked with, not even a smart, dismissive "i'm buried in work" like I am so kind to supply when that's the case???
"lol, i'm not booked now," is what comes back.
Laugh it up, Chuckles.
"come on over....snuggle and enjoy some bad wine."
I'm sorry, SmartyPants, I know you can't know that I'm reading this and comparing you to another person. That's probably a douche move on my part. Becuase, you can't know that in my head, I'm thinking about your little invitation compared to an invitation to an adult prom where I get to dress up for fun and watch bands. And bad wine and a snuggle in BFE north of the river with little consideration of my time, where my child is, or ANYTHING, is NOT. HOT.
I talk myself off the ledge though and reply "HA! well, now, I'M booked...have a bday dinner tonight"
"See...busy. :-P"
I'm having shades of "grats" in my mind. Smartass is fun. It's cute. I'm a smartass more often than I'm NOT a smartass. But my smartassyness has limits. And I'm seeing that it is possible to connect on some emotional level on a first date (which I wasn't sure I thought was possible) and after 5 dates, I still don't know what you want...outside of getting in my pants.
Perhaps I'm being too hard on him. Perhaps this is just all part of the magic Little Red committment freak out.
At any rate, I don't text him back. I'm operating under the principle of "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."
At dinner that night with my friends, another text comes through:
"So when is the lovely [Little Red] not busy?"
Oh, look how that tone has changed!
I'm skeptical and busy and have a beer and a half in me.
"What did you have in mind?" I ask dipomatically, giving him a fair chance to impress me.
"Anything involving me hanging out with you."
Ugh. Ughsicle. Maybe it shouldn't be an ughsicle, but it feels like a giant sticky ughsicle shoved somewhere uncomfortable.
I don't respond, thinking I will when I get home that night. When I do get home, I consider my availability for the week, which consists of Friday and Saturday night, but my son is gone Saturday night for a night away with his grandparents so I really only have Saturday night ALL to myself.
And THUS, after a long long LONG post, we are at the Wednesday morning dating quandary.
One free night. Two boys. One getting a date today.
Now, by all the hemming and hawing, you may think the choice is easy, BUT, I'm still in that asshole "don't hedge your bets" thing. I called and presented my quandary to a friend this morning, who luckily is my soulmate and knew what I was asking without me having to say the douchebag words out loud.
"So, I'd wait till you have lunch today and see how that goes with DD, then feel out his weekend. If he's free hang out with him, if not, then you still have SmartyPants as a backup" she says.
"AH!" I lament. "That's such a jerk move. To have a backup. Poor Smartypants. You have been demoted to backup."
This also lead to an interesting brief discussion on how to EXIT a non-relationship. Not that I'm TOTALLY ready to jump ship, but...with Stage 5 Clinger, I just stopped talking to him. That was 3 dates in.
This is 6 dates in, 3 months of talking, and some seriously heavy making-out. That seems to mean I have to at least have an exit conversation - whatever that looks like. My friend thinks that I should maybe just be unavailable and talk less and he'll take a hint. This sounds like an easy route, but also a less direct and not as graceful out.
Where are the manuals on this?! I think I'll go google it now before I meet DD for lunch in an hour and a half. Before you get IN....guess you should know how to get OUT.
Friday date was with DD. It. was. awesome. We met at Mac's Sports Bar in Overland Park - a little further north than I typically go out in the OP area but I was game for something new and appreciative of him having no problem picking a place and a time.
Great thing # 1 - he was CUTER in person than his pictures. I gather this to be a rare occurence. In pictures, he has dark hair, a longish (ugh) ginger goatee and is a tad heavyset. In real life, his hair and goatee are nicel trimmed, he's leaner and looks like he could be watching rugby at a pub in Ireland.
Great thing # 2 - he takes one look at me from head to toe, looks slightly flabbergasted and says "you look amazing. I feel underdressed."
We sit on the patio even though it's a little cool and chat about work, which segways to music since I work at a concert venue, which segways to sports of which we are both avid Chiefs fans. I find out more meaningful things in the first short hour about him than I have in 5 dates with Smartypants. What's more, the conversation has more CONTENT to it - we cover his backstory and mine, I find out he was in the Marines for 4 years out of school. He married his high school sweetheart who he met in youthgroup (which I take as a context clue that he was religious at SOME point at least). They met at 15 and while I can't suss out when they got divorced, I quickly rule out that he might be on the rebound trail when he mentioned that she is remarried.
We discuss lots but here are the highlights:
He has 2 daughters of whom he was the primary parent for at least 6 years. They are 9 and 10 now and clearly mean the world to him.
He is an accountant finishing up a degree in a accounting. He works for an accounting firm that is no a CPA firm (this means nothing to me, but that's what he said) and is trying to decide what he wants to do when he graduates - work for a firm or be in a CFO-type position to make better money or make less money and focus more on his homelife. (as someone making a sufficient amount of money and still focused on her homelife, I disagree that it's poor and happy or rich and miserable, but that's just me)
He has a great relationship with his ex and thinks she is a wonderful mother, but is clear to say that there relationship is not a personal one and only related to their girls. She became the primary parent of the kids when she came into some money after the death of a family member and was able to work from home.
He loves live music, and, as I suspected from his pictures, his tastes run towards indie, rock, and hard rock. He says he's been to lots of Ozzfests. I say I've never been to one, but I did go to a Rockfest once. As I've come to learn from other actual rock aficianados, he turns his nose up a little at this becuase Rockfest hosts the like of "Nickleback" which seems to be the bane of any real "rockers" musical existence.
His favorite Chiefs player is Tony Gonzales, who is my SECOND favorite Chiefs player.
When we move inside for a second drink, the conversation turns to dating at I think he's awesome but clearly automatically wonder why an awesome person is on match.com (self deprecation at its finest).
"I'm not going to meet people in bars. I have kids. I want to meet a person of substance. That's what I like about you...you're clearly a person of great substance"
This may be one of the nicest things anyone has ever said about me. He goes on to muddle around the fact that things didn't work out with his ex-wife because she didn't "get him."
My red flag radar perks up at this statement and goes quickly to a dark place of thinking of guys I've known who make similar statements. They're usually arrogant tool bags who think they're too cool for everyone else.
"Can you elaborate on that?" I ask.
He tries to and it basically sounds like he's conflicted between being a MAN with a capital "M" that was in the military and likes sports and does MANLY things and also being clearly a bit of a softy and an intellectual and VERY family oriented.
"In the dating world,"I surmise helpfully, "you often to have define yourself as ONE thing, and when you are two things from opposite ends of the spectrum that's really hard. Say if you are "responsible mother" but also "fun lover" - its hard to convey that without having to pick one or the other to promote yourself as and typically finding people who only like one or the other but not both in the same person"
His eyes widen and he says "Thank you for saying it better than I was."
We look at eachother and have a moment of shared understanding which makes my heart flutter.
We talk about our families. He has a strained relationship with his Dad and brother and oldest sister (who are FIFTEEN year older than him) but a good relationship with his sister who is a nurse. His mom died when he was just out of high school but I can tell he loved her a lot and misses her constantly. He dilvuges she was a red head. My mom is a nurse and sister is a social worker, so we gush on the emotional fortitude of our respective family members, which leads me to say "I'm making myself sound downright weak comparatively" as I lament that I don't have the same emotional fortitude as them and would cry all the time in their jobs.
He shakes his head. "Don't say that. Don't dismiss what you're doing. You're working a high-pressure job and all that goes along with that and still coming home and being a mom to a little guy and that's no small thing."
I turn around to see if there's a cupid standing on the bar who has just shot a damn arrow in my back.
To cap it all off, he walks me outside after I say I'd like to "to be continued" the evening and talks about what we can do next and if we have to wait a whole week to see one another and could we maybe do lunch midweek. He asks about activities I like, and while I warn that I suck at many activities due to relative lack of coordination and skill, I also say I'm up for anything. I appreciate that he's thinking ahead and thinking of things to DO that don't just involve sitting around drinking (or, as I think in my head, the proverbial "snuggle" that SmartyPants keeps asking for)
He hugs me sincerely, tightly, and pulls back to look at me. Instead of kissing me he says "you smell so good. I can't wait to see you again"
"Me either," I hear myself say, willing him to kiss me at the same time appreciating that he hasn't.
We smile at eachother and he heads for his car and I head for mine, grinning like an idiot.
I proceed, that fine Friday eve, to denounce Smartypants. I leave voicemails for friends touting his impending trip to the curb becuase of how shown up he just was. I got out with friends and blab about how curbside his ass is.
But by Saturday, I'm down from high and not sure that a) I know how to kick him curbside with any semblence of grace and b) that it's smart to hedge my bets after one date.
However, SmartyPants does NOT help his case Saturday.
Saturday morning DD texts and says "I hope I'm not too forward, but I thought this would be fun. May 13th is 96.5's adult "prom" at the Midland. Three bands. I thought you might dig it. So, woudl you be my prom date?"
I LOVE THIS. I can't write in capital letters or bold them enough to express how much I love this. It's 3 fricking weeks away and I still LOVE THIS. Let me count the ways: it shows initiative, it's interesting, it shows he's absorbed my interests and has aligned it with one of his own.
I say yes, and then a subsequent yes to a Wednesday lunch date. (I also love THIS because it's not afraid of a day date.) "I'm looking forward to getting to know you better" he says, and I hop in a pool with my 2-year-old for Saturday morning swim lessons swooning.
Smartypants, but comparison, texts later that day as I am heading to the dinner theatre with my mother to see "The Odd Couple."
"Just wanted to let you know you crossed my mind," the text says.
Well, I think, thank you, Smartypants. Thank you for deigning to let me cross your mind, and what's more, for texting me to tell me as much 4 days after our last date.
"How's your Saturday going?" I ask though.
"Very well," he says with what is becoming typical elusiveness. I read an article about "free information" that smart daters put out there. That is, when someone asks you a question like "how's your Saturday?" you have an opportunity to share fun things about yourself thereby deepening your partner's knowledge of yourself and the connection between you.
Hence, when he asks "yours?" I say "I'm on my way to the dinner theatre. Had fun today coloring easter eggs. An excellent day thus far."
See what I did here? I restablished my love for theatre and going out. I also acknowledged my love of holidays (which I am a fruitcake about, admittedly).
I get no other text, but I get busy and don't worry about it except to watch "The Odd Couple" and decide that the two boys I am not seeing are an odd couple indeed.
SmartyPants = 26 years old, unmarried, no kids
DD = 32 years old, divorced, 2 kids
And right now, SmartyPants, the 32-year-old is outgaming you.
DD and I confirm our Wednesday date on Monday via the facebook after I post a picture from work of me and Kevin Bacon from a recent work event.
"Your hair looks amazing in that picture with that red dress," he compliments. I reiterate my excitement for seeing him Wednesday.
To note, he didn't text Sunday, but did say "I hope you had a nice Easter." This is a nice balance of attention versus smothering.
SmartyPants since Sunday has been posting some decidedly emo things on his Facebook wall. People seem to be fawning over whatever conflict he's going through, but I know he's not a facebooker and wonder (GOD I'M VAIN) if he's trying to draw me out somehow. By Tuesday a facebook post that says simply "sigh" does draw me out.
"You are rocking some seriously angst fbook posts" I text in the afternoon when I can't work any longer at my job stuff without going cross-eyed.
"Thanks, lol," he says.
I sigh. Typical.
"It's from the lack of love lately" comes the next text.
I bristle. WTF. No, more firmly, WHAT. THE. FUCK.
"you're the one who was busy all weekend."
"Whatever, miss busy pants."
Oh, no sir, you don't know who you're messing with.
" "I'm booked till Tuesday" " I quote back at him mercilessly. For REAL? You're going to act like somehow I've dropped some ball or you're some wounded party after telling me STRAIGHT UP that you were "booked" for nearly a week after our last date, and then offering NO info as to what you were booked with, not even a smart, dismissive "i'm buried in work" like I am so kind to supply when that's the case???
"lol, i'm not booked now," is what comes back.
Laugh it up, Chuckles.
"come on over....snuggle and enjoy some bad wine."
I'm sorry, SmartyPants, I know you can't know that I'm reading this and comparing you to another person. That's probably a douche move on my part. Becuase, you can't know that in my head, I'm thinking about your little invitation compared to an invitation to an adult prom where I get to dress up for fun and watch bands. And bad wine and a snuggle in BFE north of the river with little consideration of my time, where my child is, or ANYTHING, is NOT. HOT.
I talk myself off the ledge though and reply "HA! well, now, I'M booked...have a bday dinner tonight"
"See...busy. :-P"
I'm having shades of "grats" in my mind. Smartass is fun. It's cute. I'm a smartass more often than I'm NOT a smartass. But my smartassyness has limits. And I'm seeing that it is possible to connect on some emotional level on a first date (which I wasn't sure I thought was possible) and after 5 dates, I still don't know what you want...outside of getting in my pants.
Perhaps I'm being too hard on him. Perhaps this is just all part of the magic Little Red committment freak out.
At any rate, I don't text him back. I'm operating under the principle of "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."
At dinner that night with my friends, another text comes through:
"So when is the lovely [Little Red] not busy?"
Oh, look how that tone has changed!
I'm skeptical and busy and have a beer and a half in me.
"What did you have in mind?" I ask dipomatically, giving him a fair chance to impress me.
"Anything involving me hanging out with you."
Ugh. Ughsicle. Maybe it shouldn't be an ughsicle, but it feels like a giant sticky ughsicle shoved somewhere uncomfortable.
I don't respond, thinking I will when I get home that night. When I do get home, I consider my availability for the week, which consists of Friday and Saturday night, but my son is gone Saturday night for a night away with his grandparents so I really only have Saturday night ALL to myself.
And THUS, after a long long LONG post, we are at the Wednesday morning dating quandary.
One free night. Two boys. One getting a date today.
Now, by all the hemming and hawing, you may think the choice is easy, BUT, I'm still in that asshole "don't hedge your bets" thing. I called and presented my quandary to a friend this morning, who luckily is my soulmate and knew what I was asking without me having to say the douchebag words out loud.
"So, I'd wait till you have lunch today and see how that goes with DD, then feel out his weekend. If he's free hang out with him, if not, then you still have SmartyPants as a backup" she says.
"AH!" I lament. "That's such a jerk move. To have a backup. Poor Smartypants. You have been demoted to backup."
This also lead to an interesting brief discussion on how to EXIT a non-relationship. Not that I'm TOTALLY ready to jump ship, but...with Stage 5 Clinger, I just stopped talking to him. That was 3 dates in.
This is 6 dates in, 3 months of talking, and some seriously heavy making-out. That seems to mean I have to at least have an exit conversation - whatever that looks like. My friend thinks that I should maybe just be unavailable and talk less and he'll take a hint. This sounds like an easy route, but also a less direct and not as graceful out.
Where are the manuals on this?! I think I'll go google it now before I meet DD for lunch in an hour and a half. Before you get IN....guess you should know how to get OUT.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
The Jury Is Out
I've got a funny feeling about this SmartyPants. Not a bad one. Not a totally awesomely good one.
Bravely, SmartyPants accepted the offer to join my friends and me for happy hour/half-price burgers at a local bar and grill that we frequent near my home. Props to him for that. It is no small thing to subject yourself to 7 of a girl's friends. He showed up, made a couple jokes that got big laughs, stared off a bit awkwardly a few times, but overall was fine.
Something I learned about myself? I'm not good at babysitting boys. I say this only because I am a GREAT person to take a new person under my wing at the table and make sure they're talked to, etc., but I found myself feeling conflicted between wanting to talk to my friends and including SmartyPants in the conversations. I don't like feeling like I'm babysitting, but luckily he ended up sitting next to a couple of smartass gal pals who got along with him just fine and helped me out in that respect.
That blankface of his is quickly going to annoy me because I can't tell what he's thinking or whether he's utterly bored or this is just the emotion-concealing face of choice.
At any rate, we ended up picking up the two gal pals plus a guy friend because I had an extra ticket and made out way to Starlight Theatre for the Arcade Fire concert. I gave everyone a brief tour of my office - of which SmartyPants seemed unimpressed - and as I continued to try and engage him in conversation he was snarky, which was fine, but I also felt like I had invited him to my home away from home of sorts and he was somewhat nonplussed.
I guess I'm prouder of my theatre than I realized...or...or I expected a different reaction.
I learn as we take our place eight rows from the back of the 8000 person theatre (Little Red FAIL - I didn't know I had GA seats for this show instead of my usual sweet close seats) he continues to look slightly uncomfortable.
I finally ask "are you a concert go-er?" I perhaps should have asked this sooner, but I assumed he was just not Arcade Fire's biggest fan rather than assume he had agreed to join me just for the sake of joining me.
"I can count the number of concerts I've attended on one hand" he says (and later revealed his last concert was Def Leppard/Billy Idol - a far cry from the night's indie-hipster vibe)
Well, shit, I think.
"So, I should be flattered that you're here?" I say charmingly instead.
"Yes!" he says, smiling genuinely for the first time. "Not to mention I had free tickets to a Royals game tonight!"
Well, double shit. Now there's a lot riding on his enjoyment of this evening - and I think he's only here because of me. This was a bad move on his part. I'm just saying. I'm not going to NOT have fun at a concert you willingly accepted an invitation to.
Although, I feel a little awkward having fun as he stands, expressionless and unmoving, through the entire concert.
He's fine with me - smiles, couple kisses, pinched my butt at least twice - all the makings of two people warming up to eachother physically - but this is clearly CLEARLY not his cup of tea.
And, I threw my friends into the mix, which, in retrospect, I should have maybe given my friends the tickets and let them come on their own BUT I get free parking and there was just no reason in the world not to drive them. Plus, they appeared to be having fun.
When my friends go away to get beers, SmartyPants leans over and says, "I just want you to know that I'm going to require some alone time with you tonight."
This is the most engaged he's been. We so a little sexual banter, leading up to him making fun of the way I'm sitting - which is decidedly un-lady-like.
"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm no lady," I say with a smirk.
"I've felt otherwise," he says.
I, somehow, don't blush, but instead keep my smirk in place and retort quickly "lady parts intact, but I'm not your typical girl."
"Are we going to fight about who wears the pants in this relationship?"
"I could wear the pants," I say.
"As long as they come off at the end of the night, I'm okay with that," he says.
I shut up. I have been out-sassed.
"We could come up with a sign and sneak into my office and make-out on the futon" I say after a few minutes.
I have no intention of missing the concert - which is MY fault. He's clearly attended thinking there was some make-out benefit to him, ESPECIALLY after I left him high and dry the last go-round, and I sent a text early in the day with a "fair warning, I can't stay out late I have a 7AM board meeting" which I thought was considerate and a fair way to set his expectations of the day.
What to do when you lead a busy life? It impedes these moments. I could have stayed the night last time but let's talk about that:
a) i don't know how many people this boy is sleeping with or dating
b) i don't have a total beat on this boy
c) i had a babysitter
d) i have to WORK in the morning and I need a LITTLE sleep to function on
I haven't set a firm thought in my head regarding the timeline of sleeping with someone versus integrating them into my family life (i.e. meeting my son to see if the person goes screaming into the night) mostly becuase I don't know. I keep waiting for some epiphany, but I'm not having one. My gut says - I could go ahead and mess around with SmartyPants but perhaps that's where it would stop. I would somehow turn him into non-relationship fodder and keep him out of my LIFE (my real life - the one where I blearily stumble to take my son to the potty at 7 AM and/or change and do laundry at 1 AM when the toddler has an accident) and maybe that would be fine. The physical chemistry is THERE, but I feel something elusive on the emotional end on this particular date.
Moreover, as we depart at the end of the night, I drop the friends and there cars and we sit in my car and make-out a little, I feel he is, not "put out" persay but really disappointed that he can't convince me to come up north with him (hello! long drive!) or that we're restricted to the car and a brief make-out (becuase, dammit, my mother has to wake up at 4 AM and is probably sleeping on my couch waiting for me to show up and relieve her!)
On one-hand, WAHOO! Someone thinks I'm a hot mama and can't keep their hands off me.
I also would like more hands on HIM I think - and breathlessly say "dammit! what are you doing Saturday?"
He pulls back with a laugh and says "you've got to give me more notice. I'm booked up till, like, Tuesday."
Well. Huh. What are you booked up with there, SmartyPants? I know you randomly joined a softball league with which you will be practicing on Monday, but what's got your Friday and Saturday AND Sunday nights all buttoned down?
I make the irrational assumption based on this comment and the texting he did through the concert that he must be seeing three other girls.
Pot meet kettle: yes, I have a date with another dude on Friday night! So!?
"Dammit," is all I say out loud through this moment of inner turmoil.
"I'm not worried about it," he says by way of soothing me. I think he means "I know I'll see you again, I still like you, don't worry." I'm still inner-turmoiling/moving into wondering if I'm having a classic date 5 freak-out/where do we go from here? Luckily, he gets out of the car a bit awkwardly, calls me "dear" at least twice which I decide I don't really like, and is gone.
I drive home, decide not to text him. He doesn't text me. Stinker date. Half-good, half-dud.
What I DON'T know is if this is MY fault becuase my brain his clicked into that gray zone of the dating timeline where it's not just getting to know you fun stuff but, but, darn it all, there is some talk that needs to happen regarding what the next step is?
What is the next step? I'm not entirely sure, but I think HIS next step is getting in my pants and, morally, I'm not opposed to this, but I think I have a personal decision to make here, folks.
I need to go back and read that "Ride the Wave" post - or call my friend and let her tell me to "not freak out" as she promised to do what I reach THIS point.
I'm VERY excited about my Friday date though. Naturally, DD texted whilst I was at the concert next to SmartyPants last night.
Oh. My. God. I have become my ex-boyfriend.
Once upon a time in the terribly painful months following the implosion of my first significant relationship with once-love-of-my-life/now-best-friend/still-he-who-i-compare-all-boys-to, i remember having a conversation with HIM and he said "I just love the first part of a relationship where it's all exciting and uncomplicated" and I thought it was the dumbest thing I'd ever heard becuase I was still madly horribly in love with him and he didn't want me and I couldn't comprehend why. Why would anyone not want to feel the immense vulnerability of love? Why wouldn't you want someone to know you inside-out?
Answer: becuase the risk for rejection early is high, and the burnout from rejection later is devastating.
I'll wax a little philosophical today: how can one who loves so many so easily, so fervently have such trouble allowing a connection to form with a potential romantic partner?
I don't have an answer to that today.
Or maybe it's all SmartyPants' fault and he needs to give me a little more to go on than the only thing I DEFINITELY strongly feel from him without question which is "i like making out with you and would like to do more" Got that message, loud and clear. Try another.
Jury's out.
Bravely, SmartyPants accepted the offer to join my friends and me for happy hour/half-price burgers at a local bar and grill that we frequent near my home. Props to him for that. It is no small thing to subject yourself to 7 of a girl's friends. He showed up, made a couple jokes that got big laughs, stared off a bit awkwardly a few times, but overall was fine.
Something I learned about myself? I'm not good at babysitting boys. I say this only because I am a GREAT person to take a new person under my wing at the table and make sure they're talked to, etc., but I found myself feeling conflicted between wanting to talk to my friends and including SmartyPants in the conversations. I don't like feeling like I'm babysitting, but luckily he ended up sitting next to a couple of smartass gal pals who got along with him just fine and helped me out in that respect.
That blankface of his is quickly going to annoy me because I can't tell what he's thinking or whether he's utterly bored or this is just the emotion-concealing face of choice.
At any rate, we ended up picking up the two gal pals plus a guy friend because I had an extra ticket and made out way to Starlight Theatre for the Arcade Fire concert. I gave everyone a brief tour of my office - of which SmartyPants seemed unimpressed - and as I continued to try and engage him in conversation he was snarky, which was fine, but I also felt like I had invited him to my home away from home of sorts and he was somewhat nonplussed.
I guess I'm prouder of my theatre than I realized...or...or I expected a different reaction.
I learn as we take our place eight rows from the back of the 8000 person theatre (Little Red FAIL - I didn't know I had GA seats for this show instead of my usual sweet close seats) he continues to look slightly uncomfortable.
I finally ask "are you a concert go-er?" I perhaps should have asked this sooner, but I assumed he was just not Arcade Fire's biggest fan rather than assume he had agreed to join me just for the sake of joining me.
"I can count the number of concerts I've attended on one hand" he says (and later revealed his last concert was Def Leppard/Billy Idol - a far cry from the night's indie-hipster vibe)
Well, shit, I think.
"So, I should be flattered that you're here?" I say charmingly instead.
"Yes!" he says, smiling genuinely for the first time. "Not to mention I had free tickets to a Royals game tonight!"
Well, double shit. Now there's a lot riding on his enjoyment of this evening - and I think he's only here because of me. This was a bad move on his part. I'm just saying. I'm not going to NOT have fun at a concert you willingly accepted an invitation to.
Although, I feel a little awkward having fun as he stands, expressionless and unmoving, through the entire concert.
He's fine with me - smiles, couple kisses, pinched my butt at least twice - all the makings of two people warming up to eachother physically - but this is clearly CLEARLY not his cup of tea.
And, I threw my friends into the mix, which, in retrospect, I should have maybe given my friends the tickets and let them come on their own BUT I get free parking and there was just no reason in the world not to drive them. Plus, they appeared to be having fun.
When my friends go away to get beers, SmartyPants leans over and says, "I just want you to know that I'm going to require some alone time with you tonight."
This is the most engaged he's been. We so a little sexual banter, leading up to him making fun of the way I'm sitting - which is decidedly un-lady-like.
"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm no lady," I say with a smirk.
"I've felt otherwise," he says.
I, somehow, don't blush, but instead keep my smirk in place and retort quickly "lady parts intact, but I'm not your typical girl."
"Are we going to fight about who wears the pants in this relationship?"
"I could wear the pants," I say.
"As long as they come off at the end of the night, I'm okay with that," he says.
I shut up. I have been out-sassed.
"We could come up with a sign and sneak into my office and make-out on the futon" I say after a few minutes.
I have no intention of missing the concert - which is MY fault. He's clearly attended thinking there was some make-out benefit to him, ESPECIALLY after I left him high and dry the last go-round, and I sent a text early in the day with a "fair warning, I can't stay out late I have a 7AM board meeting" which I thought was considerate and a fair way to set his expectations of the day.
What to do when you lead a busy life? It impedes these moments. I could have stayed the night last time but let's talk about that:
a) i don't know how many people this boy is sleeping with or dating
b) i don't have a total beat on this boy
c) i had a babysitter
d) i have to WORK in the morning and I need a LITTLE sleep to function on
I haven't set a firm thought in my head regarding the timeline of sleeping with someone versus integrating them into my family life (i.e. meeting my son to see if the person goes screaming into the night) mostly becuase I don't know. I keep waiting for some epiphany, but I'm not having one. My gut says - I could go ahead and mess around with SmartyPants but perhaps that's where it would stop. I would somehow turn him into non-relationship fodder and keep him out of my LIFE (my real life - the one where I blearily stumble to take my son to the potty at 7 AM and/or change and do laundry at 1 AM when the toddler has an accident) and maybe that would be fine. The physical chemistry is THERE, but I feel something elusive on the emotional end on this particular date.
Moreover, as we depart at the end of the night, I drop the friends and there cars and we sit in my car and make-out a little, I feel he is, not "put out" persay but really disappointed that he can't convince me to come up north with him (hello! long drive!) or that we're restricted to the car and a brief make-out (becuase, dammit, my mother has to wake up at 4 AM and is probably sleeping on my couch waiting for me to show up and relieve her!)
On one-hand, WAHOO! Someone thinks I'm a hot mama and can't keep their hands off me.
I also would like more hands on HIM I think - and breathlessly say "dammit! what are you doing Saturday?"
He pulls back with a laugh and says "you've got to give me more notice. I'm booked up till, like, Tuesday."
Well. Huh. What are you booked up with there, SmartyPants? I know you randomly joined a softball league with which you will be practicing on Monday, but what's got your Friday and Saturday AND Sunday nights all buttoned down?
I make the irrational assumption based on this comment and the texting he did through the concert that he must be seeing three other girls.
Pot meet kettle: yes, I have a date with another dude on Friday night! So!?
"Dammit," is all I say out loud through this moment of inner turmoil.
"I'm not worried about it," he says by way of soothing me. I think he means "I know I'll see you again, I still like you, don't worry." I'm still inner-turmoiling/moving into wondering if I'm having a classic date 5 freak-out/where do we go from here? Luckily, he gets out of the car a bit awkwardly, calls me "dear" at least twice which I decide I don't really like, and is gone.
I drive home, decide not to text him. He doesn't text me. Stinker date. Half-good, half-dud.
What I DON'T know is if this is MY fault becuase my brain his clicked into that gray zone of the dating timeline where it's not just getting to know you fun stuff but, but, darn it all, there is some talk that needs to happen regarding what the next step is?
What is the next step? I'm not entirely sure, but I think HIS next step is getting in my pants and, morally, I'm not opposed to this, but I think I have a personal decision to make here, folks.
I need to go back and read that "Ride the Wave" post - or call my friend and let her tell me to "not freak out" as she promised to do what I reach THIS point.
I'm VERY excited about my Friday date though. Naturally, DD texted whilst I was at the concert next to SmartyPants last night.
Oh. My. God. I have become my ex-boyfriend.
Once upon a time in the terribly painful months following the implosion of my first significant relationship with once-love-of-my-life/now-best-friend/still-he-who-i-compare-all-boys-to, i remember having a conversation with HIM and he said "I just love the first part of a relationship where it's all exciting and uncomplicated" and I thought it was the dumbest thing I'd ever heard becuase I was still madly horribly in love with him and he didn't want me and I couldn't comprehend why. Why would anyone not want to feel the immense vulnerability of love? Why wouldn't you want someone to know you inside-out?
Answer: becuase the risk for rejection early is high, and the burnout from rejection later is devastating.
I'll wax a little philosophical today: how can one who loves so many so easily, so fervently have such trouble allowing a connection to form with a potential romantic partner?
I don't have an answer to that today.
Or maybe it's all SmartyPants' fault and he needs to give me a little more to go on than the only thing I DEFINITELY strongly feel from him without question which is "i like making out with you and would like to do more" Got that message, loud and clear. Try another.
Jury's out.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Two in One Day?!
Update: DD date set for Friday.
Wednesday, SmartyPants. Friday, DD.
And, thanks to accepting his facebook invite, we are chatting on fbook which led to the Friday invite. So maybe that wasn't a bad idea after all?!?
Wednesday, SmartyPants. Friday, DD.
And, thanks to accepting his facebook invite, we are chatting on fbook which led to the Friday invite. So maybe that wasn't a bad idea after all?!?
Danger Zone
So, DD just friended my on facebook. This poses a small, tiny red flag in my brain becuase I am also fbook friends with SmartyPants.
There is an impending problem here. But I'm about to click "accept" anyway.
I went through some conflicted feelings this weekend as regards who I was going to ask to Starlight Theatre's first concert of the year.
I ended up asking SmartyPants first - due chiefly to the guarantee of a make-out session. (shallow but true!)
"Do you like Arcade Fire?" I asked in the midst of working and after he had sent me a text saying he knew I was busy but was thinking about me.
"They're alright," he returns.
Well, fine. You're not going with me then. That's my kneejerk reaction to him because, see, I assume that me asking is easily translated code for "the next thing I'm going to ask you is if you want to go WITH me to their concert." Also, we're talking via text - how easy would it have been to frickin' google it and see if there was context for my question.
I'm busy with Kevin and Michael Bacon and their band for an event (yes, THAT Kevin Bacon - you are all now closer in your six degrees game)...so I decide to ignore him because perhaps I won't be so annoyed on Sunday when I've been able to rest.
I'm still annoyed Sunday and get a great email from DD who seems so totally down-to-earth and in love with his kids that I think I definitely have to meet him. And lucky for me, he asks at the conclusion of his email if we can grab lunch of a mini-coffee or drink date after work. Some girls would be offended by this, but I think I like him MORE because of it becuase he clearly recognizes that we'll know a lot by meeting one another and that could either extend the short date parameters OR give us an easy out if we meet eachother and it totally sucks.
However, he's set the short-thing parameter so I now feel like I can't invite him to the concert at my place of employ - which is what I had been considering. I haven't responded to him yet, but a date is IN THE WORKS!
Back to Smartypants - and not one to take things lying down - I text:
"So, what I clearly didn't flesh out on Saturday was that I was asking you about Arcade Fire becuase they're coming to Starlight Wednesday and I'm in hot pursuit of a date"
"Where was I on the list?"
"Top till you said they were just "alright"" I shoot back.
"So, you went down the list and couldn't find a date and are rounding back on me?"
Oooh, out-snarked! Dammit.
"I was busy and thought I'd wait till today to strongarm you into feigning interest in me through a concert," I say.
"I'd love to be your date."
"I thought so."
I decide I like him again and so invite him to consider joining one of the weekly happy hours I USED to have with a group of my friends until I got so busy with work. Yes, it's time to parade him out and let them cast judgment. He'll probably blank face the into oblivion. I think he might shy away but I like him even more when he says "will you still be with them at 5:30 or 6? it might take me that long to get there."
Point for you, Smartypants. You're still surprising me.
I say yes and that we can ride together so that we can use my badge to skate through parking at the theatre.
"Are we gonna make out?" he asks in return.
I want to believe he's joking, but I also frown because this seems to be a top priority for him. Granted, yes, you read above it was top priority for me as well but it's not like I told HIM that.
"Is that all I'm good for?" I decide to ask outright.
"No. I just really like it," he says.
Ditto. But I don't say THAT either.
"You are also good for free parking."
I hate and like this kid so much.
"...and also free concert tickets. I'm actually a TOTALLY awesome person to date." I text back.
"free concerts, awesome a making out, beautiful and fun to hang out with...yeah i'd agree pretty awesome."
REDEEMED. I can be won by flattery.
He's so 26 though. I'm intersted in seeing what 32 DD is like in comparison...a little side by side (yes going to blow up in my stupid face) comparison. DD emails about appreciating that I'm staying in my job till I'm vested in my 401K and about his future plans with being an accountant.
Oh, but he also responded to a comment I made about great relationships being "best friends who have really great sex with a chase of an intangible something extra" with a very intriguing little spiel on sexual chemistry being as important as other chemistry (i agree) and just throwing out that "vanilla sex" forever is not going to hack it. He's got a streak of something else.
So...definitely meeting him.
And thus, I enter willfully and of my own accord into the danger zone.
There is an impending problem here. But I'm about to click "accept" anyway.
I went through some conflicted feelings this weekend as regards who I was going to ask to Starlight Theatre's first concert of the year.
I ended up asking SmartyPants first - due chiefly to the guarantee of a make-out session. (shallow but true!)
"Do you like Arcade Fire?" I asked in the midst of working and after he had sent me a text saying he knew I was busy but was thinking about me.
"They're alright," he returns.
Well, fine. You're not going with me then. That's my kneejerk reaction to him because, see, I assume that me asking is easily translated code for "the next thing I'm going to ask you is if you want to go WITH me to their concert." Also, we're talking via text - how easy would it have been to frickin' google it and see if there was context for my question.
I'm busy with Kevin and Michael Bacon and their band for an event (yes, THAT Kevin Bacon - you are all now closer in your six degrees game)...so I decide to ignore him because perhaps I won't be so annoyed on Sunday when I've been able to rest.
I'm still annoyed Sunday and get a great email from DD who seems so totally down-to-earth and in love with his kids that I think I definitely have to meet him. And lucky for me, he asks at the conclusion of his email if we can grab lunch of a mini-coffee or drink date after work. Some girls would be offended by this, but I think I like him MORE because of it becuase he clearly recognizes that we'll know a lot by meeting one another and that could either extend the short date parameters OR give us an easy out if we meet eachother and it totally sucks.
However, he's set the short-thing parameter so I now feel like I can't invite him to the concert at my place of employ - which is what I had been considering. I haven't responded to him yet, but a date is IN THE WORKS!
Back to Smartypants - and not one to take things lying down - I text:
"So, what I clearly didn't flesh out on Saturday was that I was asking you about Arcade Fire becuase they're coming to Starlight Wednesday and I'm in hot pursuit of a date"
"Where was I on the list?"
"Top till you said they were just "alright"" I shoot back.
"So, you went down the list and couldn't find a date and are rounding back on me?"
Oooh, out-snarked! Dammit.
"I was busy and thought I'd wait till today to strongarm you into feigning interest in me through a concert," I say.
"I'd love to be your date."
"I thought so."
I decide I like him again and so invite him to consider joining one of the weekly happy hours I USED to have with a group of my friends until I got so busy with work. Yes, it's time to parade him out and let them cast judgment. He'll probably blank face the into oblivion. I think he might shy away but I like him even more when he says "will you still be with them at 5:30 or 6? it might take me that long to get there."
Point for you, Smartypants. You're still surprising me.
I say yes and that we can ride together so that we can use my badge to skate through parking at the theatre.
"Are we gonna make out?" he asks in return.
I want to believe he's joking, but I also frown because this seems to be a top priority for him. Granted, yes, you read above it was top priority for me as well but it's not like I told HIM that.
"Is that all I'm good for?" I decide to ask outright.
"No. I just really like it," he says.
Ditto. But I don't say THAT either.
"You are also good for free parking."
I hate and like this kid so much.
"...and also free concert tickets. I'm actually a TOTALLY awesome person to date." I text back.
"free concerts, awesome a making out, beautiful and fun to hang out with...yeah i'd agree pretty awesome."
REDEEMED. I can be won by flattery.
He's so 26 though. I'm intersted in seeing what 32 DD is like in comparison...a little side by side (yes going to blow up in my stupid face) comparison. DD emails about appreciating that I'm staying in my job till I'm vested in my 401K and about his future plans with being an accountant.
Oh, but he also responded to a comment I made about great relationships being "best friends who have really great sex with a chase of an intangible something extra" with a very intriguing little spiel on sexual chemistry being as important as other chemistry (i agree) and just throwing out that "vanilla sex" forever is not going to hack it. He's got a streak of something else.
So...definitely meeting him.
And thus, I enter willfully and of my own accord into the danger zone.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Sass Nugget # 1
Smartypants: "So...when do you want to come over for a sleepover?"
Me: "Will there be pillow fights and a ouija board?"
Me: "Will there be pillow fights and a ouija board?"
Monday, April 11, 2011
The Battle of the Hormones OR When It Rains It Pours
Suddenly there are 3 viable suitors in my life. This will clearly blow up in my face. I'm putting that on the record.
Bachelor # 1: DD (Divorcee Dad) We have moved from match messaging to emailing. I misspoke in my previous post and his daughters are actually only 9 and 10, so that does't feel QUITE as creepy as if he had high schoolers who seem closer to my age (I know they're NOT, but my brain hasn't processed that my 10 year high school reunion is 2 years away). DD is an accountant finishing a degree in accounting at KU. I think he's a LITTLE alternative/punk based on looks and musical preferences but seems like a totally crazy-about-his-kids dad. I have never dated another father, so I am interested in meeting this guy for purely experimental reasons. He's fairly no bullshit (which compared to bullshity SmartyPants is a nice juxtaposition) and I kind of like that. I can also currently talk most openly with him about my kid becuase, well, he has kids and it doesn't feel as taboo as with young single never married childless guys. He likes live music, so once I surface from this weekend's final work hoorah, I am considering inviting him out to listen to music (anyone else notice that I'm the girl doing all the asking out? this is HUGE, people! I grew some balls at some point in this experiment!) OR potentially even offering him my other ticket to see Arcade Fire at Starlight (which I had thought I was going to with SmartyPants - which I still MIGHT - ugh...this juggling which is bound to blow up in my face...) I don't know what baggage divorcees come with in terms of emotions. Well, I have a best friend who is getting divorced, so I know a LITTLE about the emotional baggage of divorce but I'm also watching her handle it with great aplomb and with very little impact on HER new boyfriend, so...I guess I need to find out who was the divorce-asking party. Is that a first date question? Also, DD is a much older guy...wait...maybe he's not. I have to check. Okay, he's only 33. Not THAT much older. And it means he had his first munchkin at the same age I had mine. Common ground.
Bachelor # 2: BRGR
BREAKING NEWS! I don't think I mentioned it on this blog, but back on St. Patrick's Day, I was backed into by a gentleman that had been drinking. I naively/foolishly/trustingly did NOT call the cops, becuase it was a big deal to send a strange to jail and my car was drive-able and...and, I don't know, it's what my gut told me to do. So I get the guy's insurance information, call the next day to file a claim and what should I find out? HE HAS NO INSURANCE! Or, his insurance has lapsed, or...something that means I'm potentially the world's biggest trusting idiot. He swears he'll take care of it, and, again, my gut trusts him but everyone around me is giving me these looks of "oh, kid, this is going to end poorly for you." So, we continue to talk and he says he has a brother in law that owns a Morse Chevrolet and he can probably get it fixed up there, etc. etc. All sound sketch-pants, but I decide to throw all in and I email the guy, the most important excerpt of which is:
"...and as a personal appeal, please don't screw me over. I want to believe you're going to come through for me, but bottom line is you're a stranger and I'm putting blind faith in you. Please please don't let this be one of those hard life lessons for me that shakes my ability to trust that people are basically good..."
He writes back that he loves my email and says, in writing, he intends to fix my car but if I want to get an estimate and take my car elsewhere, I should and he will write me a check as quickly as possible. I flounder under this grace and say that I'm going to trust him and to get my car scheduled for the Morse Chevrolet.
Much to my delight in humanity and this stranger's personal integrity, he calls last week to tell me when to drop off my car, that he's arranged everything, and that he's even gotten me a rental car.
"Does that restore your faith in humanity?" he asks hopefully.
"It really does," I say sincerely.
I'm still getting the side eye from friends and family who tell me not to get too excited until the car is fixed and I have confirmed I'm not paying for anything. I drove a Kia Soul for two days and had my own Saturn beautifully returned to me last Friday.
I am touched by this experience, so my schmaltzy ass picks up a thank you card from the grocery store that just says something about small acts of kindness making the world a better place or something, and than hand-write a thank you and that he has not restored but affirmed my faith in humanity which I am genuinely grateful for.
Yesterday, as I'm heading for a date with SmartyPants (more on that next) I stop by the gourmet burger restaurant at which he is a manager, ask for him and hand him the card and just say "it's nothing much, but I just want to say thank you for being a solid human being." He hugs me, says he wouldn't have done it any differently, opens my card and looks at me like I've sprouted a second head. I consider that maybe my gesture is totally weird and start to retreat when he randomly hugs me again, a little longer and less like a stranger.
"This affirms MY faith in humanity," he says when he pulls back. "Can you stay for a bite? On me?"
"Oh, really, you don't have to do that," I say immediately, as he has been telling me since the accident to come in and he'd buy me and my friends drinks and food on him.
"I really want to. You wouldn't believe the last few weeks, but don't think I don't know that I got lucky that I hit a sweet girl like you and not someone else."
Now, I'm not sure I'm going to throw the word "lucky" around because, all things considered, I'd have been fine never being hit at all, but I don't say that.
"My card's in the card," I say. "I've got a crazy week, but maybe after that I'll stop in. I've got somewhere I've got to get to now though."
"I'll call you if I don't see you in here," he promises with a smile.
Wonders never cease.
Bachelor # 3 - Smarty Pants
Now, SmartyPants is old news, BUT we did have our "Arthur" movie date last night - to which I drove ALL the hell the way up north to where he lives. Ugh. Distance. You have to like someone to drive 30 minutes to them. I'm just sayin'
I find his place (they're nice apartments) and he's waiting for me in the parking lot.
"You look really cute," he says, and I appreciate him opening with this.
However, it's 9:43 and the movie starts at 9:50.
"You still want to go?" he asks.
I consider this. What will do otherwise, I wonder, eyeing his apartment with interest. Nothing good, I decide.
"Yup. There's tons of previews - let's rock!" I say. He doesn't argue and we hop in his car and are off.
The car ride is fine - I blather about my weekend and all the work I'd done, etc. etc. and he listens becuase he apparently didn't do anything exciting except go to a lame wedding reception for a coworker the day before. I wonder equally if he is as cagey about information as he seems, as lame as he proclaims, or dating 5 other girls concurrently with me and thus he can't talk about what he's been up to all weekend. With this guy, I can't tell.
He pays for my ticket, and I'm getting to the awkward phase where I wish he'd let me pick one up or that we'd go dutch becuase my independant streak is kicking in. The movie hasn't started and is in previews when we find our seats in the mostly empty gigantic theatre. After all, it's Sunday at 10:00. Most people (including both of us) have to work the next morning.
The movie is so good I watch IT and don't worry too much about making a move on my companion. Also, I want to see if HE'LL make a move. I found earlier in the day during the planning of tonight's excursion that SmartyPants may not be much of a decision maker:
"so, we still on for a movie?" I asked on my way to church.
"sure." (PS I hate this. doesn't "sure" sort of sound like you're strongarming someone into your bidding. you asked ME, bucko.)
"ok...so...still want to go this afternoon? I'm free after 2:30" I text back, choosing to ignore "sure" and give him the benefit of the doubt.
"sure."
okay, now, I can't ignore it.
"dude, do you want to go out with me or not? I worked all weekend and I could hang out with my kid if you're busy," I shoot back.
"I really want to see you. :-) what time works best?"
son of a bitch.
"i'm free after 2:30 but i have to mow my mother's lawn for her, so i just need an hour of daylight at some point. So I could do afternoon or after dinner?"
"depends on what you prefer."
I'm going to punch him through the phone. I literally am going to grab through the phone, find his collar, and shake him.
"okay, well, if you're letting me pick, i say after dinner. the later the better," I say, thinking I can hang out with my son till after he's asleep and then head towards SmartyPants and the northland hole of far far away. Also, evening holds more promise for making out.
"just tell me when you're heading this way."
The planner in me is rolling her eyes.
"Look up movie times since you know which theatre is near you and then I'll tell you what time I can be there," I instruct as I'm moving between church and a church class.
"There's an 8 at the dive theatre, or if we go at 9:50, I can take you to the nice theatre," he says. I'm at the CVS after my church class now, buying an expensive digital scale upon which I intend to chart my progress on this ridiculous diet I'm on (having realized the very real possibility of having to be naked in front of someone at some point).
"do you have a pref?" I ask, thinking I know the answer.
"depends on what you want."
I talk myself out of handing my phone to the cute checkout boy to read the text and tell me if I'm crazy and that this boy either gives bad phone or that he's just not that into me or that he's playing it too cool.
"Later is better," I shoot back. "I'll head your way around 9."
Back to the movie. In the dark, I see his arms are folded across his chest, but that he keeps moving his hand to his knee as if it MIGHT sneak my way. I smile a couple times in amusement, contemplate a dramatic act of putting my arm around HIS shoulder, and then focus on the movie.
As we leave, I admit "I liked the movie so much, I didn't even make a move on you!"
He gives me a look. I grin back at him.
Back in his parking lot, he says he'd love to have me come up but that he understands it's late if I need to go home.
"I drove all the hell the way up here. I want to see your place," I say.
His place is a nice 2 bedroom with a surprising amount of nice decor, trash the needs to be taken out, and a strange amalgamation of electronics on the coffee table that looks like he's working on a DIY bomb but I assume is probably video game related. He has an expensive leather couch and shows me every room but only gestures to his darkened bedroom. I make a big deal out of assessing and approving of his place, and I think it's funny that he's almost a little embarassed by the state of it.
"It's a bachelorpad," he says with a little shrug. I smile and nod. "I have a lot of guy friends. This isn't rocking my prim and proper world."
He finally invites me to sit on the couch, and then sits ACROSS the couch from me. Like literally on the otherend of the couch as far from me as possible. Dude. You know what we're up here for. It's late. Why are you wasting my time?
We make small talk, but I keep grinning becuase he's CLEARLY waiting and or debating making a move. After one particular pause in conversation in which he's giving me his great blankface and I'm grinning with a lot of knowing on my own face, he says "what are you grinning about?"
"we're making out before I leave," I announce, settling back against the couch with a raised eyebrow of challenge.
Suddenly his whole face lights up. Ha! He IS awkward. He's trying to play it cool, but he's barely covering a geeky mcnerdboy. I see you in there, geeky mcnerdboy. You are nervous and you are trying to cover it up.
"Oh we are, are we?" he counters, raising his own eyebrow.
I nod. "Just thought I'd put that out there." I make no move towards him but continue to grin. Take the bait, take the bait, take the bait.
"And what if I object?" he says.
Oh, biggest bullshit ever.
"Do you object?"
He starts to make a face that says just maybe he does (bullshit!) and I glance at the clock, see how late it is, feel how tired I am from a long weekend, and decide I need to get this show on the road. So I lunge at him. Jump him. It happens.
We're barely kissing though when he pulls back and looks at me.
"Is there a problem?" I ask. He shakes his head.
"No problem."
"Then, kiss me." If he doesn't kiss me, I'm leaving. It's late.
"How bad do you want me to?"
Now, I make a face. "How bad do you want to?" I counter, trying not to look at the clock again.
"I don't know," he says playfully, but my playfulness is bout to wind down.
"I could go back over to my side of the couch and we could keep chatting," I challenge.
"You could" he says, calling my bluff.
Well, hell's bologna. I refused to be ousted, so I retreat back to my side of the couch and have just started to smooth my dress into place and feel surly when he practically tackles me and pins me to the couch.
"How do you like your side of the couch now?" he asks after we kiss for a while. He starts kissing down my neck.
"Better and better," I say.
"Tell me about it," he says, only semi-seriously.
I can't ever take this statement seriously though.
"Oh, [Smartypants] you are so HOT, and funny, and charming. You have great hair and eyes and you are a kissing MASTER. You are the master of all things kissing!" I say loudly with lots of melodrama.
He silences me with a kiss.
"Okay, you stop talking now," he says.
And I do.
At some point, we reach that dangerous point of having made out for a long time, being all hot and bothered, and I find myself having an internal reasoning session. It is late. My father is undoubtedly sleeping on my couch babysitting my son. I'm tired and bruised from a long weekend of events. I'm about to start my period and we both have to work in the morning. Not to mention, any next step take this situation to a different level of situation. And...I'm not sure I should go there yet, especially until I decided how I feel about the other bachelors on my prospect list.
My hormones, however, also make excellent arguments.
I pull back, sit up, breathe hard and try to swim to the surface of the hormonal rage.
"I really should go home," I say. It's after 1:00 now. Ack.
He shakes his head and works on distracting me, but I lean back as far as I can without falling off his lap and the couch.
"I like you. But I have to go home," I say. "To be continued?"
He pouts, pushes my dress up my legs and glances down. I make a suspicious face.
"I just had to know what color they were," he said, referencing my underwear. This makes me laugh.
"Red," I say, flashing him a peek. I show him a bra stap. "Also red." I'm wearing a red dress. "I always match."
"I'll keep that in mind," he says.
"Do you believe in the signs behind the colors? I don't even know what red means, but I know what black means," I say, finally getting to my feet althought my knees are just a little wobbly from the hormonal assault.
"Nah," he says, standing and reaching for me.
More kissing commences, but I managed to back us closer to the exit as we do until I finally pull away, catch my breath.
"I'm GOING," I say firmly.
"I'll leave the door unlocked for 10 minutes in case you change your mind," he says with a smile.
I escape, and I only falter once between the buildings, considering running back up the stairs. Then I beat the hormones done, tell them that there will be another day, and get into my car and head home. He texts me all the way home, clearly surprised and chagrined I didn't take up his little offer to stay.
The last text reads "I was trying to play it cool but I got all caught up in you at the end."
And this tells me a lot about SmartyPants. The question will be whether I can break that cool down quicker as time goes by. I'm interested in trying.
Bachelor # 1: DD (Divorcee Dad) We have moved from match messaging to emailing. I misspoke in my previous post and his daughters are actually only 9 and 10, so that does't feel QUITE as creepy as if he had high schoolers who seem closer to my age (I know they're NOT, but my brain hasn't processed that my 10 year high school reunion is 2 years away). DD is an accountant finishing a degree in accounting at KU. I think he's a LITTLE alternative/punk based on looks and musical preferences but seems like a totally crazy-about-his-kids dad. I have never dated another father, so I am interested in meeting this guy for purely experimental reasons. He's fairly no bullshit (which compared to bullshity SmartyPants is a nice juxtaposition) and I kind of like that. I can also currently talk most openly with him about my kid becuase, well, he has kids and it doesn't feel as taboo as with young single never married childless guys. He likes live music, so once I surface from this weekend's final work hoorah, I am considering inviting him out to listen to music (anyone else notice that I'm the girl doing all the asking out? this is HUGE, people! I grew some balls at some point in this experiment!) OR potentially even offering him my other ticket to see Arcade Fire at Starlight (which I had thought I was going to with SmartyPants - which I still MIGHT - ugh...this juggling which is bound to blow up in my face...) I don't know what baggage divorcees come with in terms of emotions. Well, I have a best friend who is getting divorced, so I know a LITTLE about the emotional baggage of divorce but I'm also watching her handle it with great aplomb and with very little impact on HER new boyfriend, so...I guess I need to find out who was the divorce-asking party. Is that a first date question? Also, DD is a much older guy...wait...maybe he's not. I have to check. Okay, he's only 33. Not THAT much older. And it means he had his first munchkin at the same age I had mine. Common ground.
Bachelor # 2: BRGR
BREAKING NEWS! I don't think I mentioned it on this blog, but back on St. Patrick's Day, I was backed into by a gentleman that had been drinking. I naively/foolishly/trustingly did NOT call the cops, becuase it was a big deal to send a strange to jail and my car was drive-able and...and, I don't know, it's what my gut told me to do. So I get the guy's insurance information, call the next day to file a claim and what should I find out? HE HAS NO INSURANCE! Or, his insurance has lapsed, or...something that means I'm potentially the world's biggest trusting idiot. He swears he'll take care of it, and, again, my gut trusts him but everyone around me is giving me these looks of "oh, kid, this is going to end poorly for you." So, we continue to talk and he says he has a brother in law that owns a Morse Chevrolet and he can probably get it fixed up there, etc. etc. All sound sketch-pants, but I decide to throw all in and I email the guy, the most important excerpt of which is:
"...and as a personal appeal, please don't screw me over. I want to believe you're going to come through for me, but bottom line is you're a stranger and I'm putting blind faith in you. Please please don't let this be one of those hard life lessons for me that shakes my ability to trust that people are basically good..."
He writes back that he loves my email and says, in writing, he intends to fix my car but if I want to get an estimate and take my car elsewhere, I should and he will write me a check as quickly as possible. I flounder under this grace and say that I'm going to trust him and to get my car scheduled for the Morse Chevrolet.
Much to my delight in humanity and this stranger's personal integrity, he calls last week to tell me when to drop off my car, that he's arranged everything, and that he's even gotten me a rental car.
"Does that restore your faith in humanity?" he asks hopefully.
"It really does," I say sincerely.
I'm still getting the side eye from friends and family who tell me not to get too excited until the car is fixed and I have confirmed I'm not paying for anything. I drove a Kia Soul for two days and had my own Saturn beautifully returned to me last Friday.
I am touched by this experience, so my schmaltzy ass picks up a thank you card from the grocery store that just says something about small acts of kindness making the world a better place or something, and than hand-write a thank you and that he has not restored but affirmed my faith in humanity which I am genuinely grateful for.
Yesterday, as I'm heading for a date with SmartyPants (more on that next) I stop by the gourmet burger restaurant at which he is a manager, ask for him and hand him the card and just say "it's nothing much, but I just want to say thank you for being a solid human being." He hugs me, says he wouldn't have done it any differently, opens my card and looks at me like I've sprouted a second head. I consider that maybe my gesture is totally weird and start to retreat when he randomly hugs me again, a little longer and less like a stranger.
"This affirms MY faith in humanity," he says when he pulls back. "Can you stay for a bite? On me?"
"Oh, really, you don't have to do that," I say immediately, as he has been telling me since the accident to come in and he'd buy me and my friends drinks and food on him.
"I really want to. You wouldn't believe the last few weeks, but don't think I don't know that I got lucky that I hit a sweet girl like you and not someone else."
Now, I'm not sure I'm going to throw the word "lucky" around because, all things considered, I'd have been fine never being hit at all, but I don't say that.
"My card's in the card," I say. "I've got a crazy week, but maybe after that I'll stop in. I've got somewhere I've got to get to now though."
"I'll call you if I don't see you in here," he promises with a smile.
Wonders never cease.
Bachelor # 3 - Smarty Pants
Now, SmartyPants is old news, BUT we did have our "Arthur" movie date last night - to which I drove ALL the hell the way up north to where he lives. Ugh. Distance. You have to like someone to drive 30 minutes to them. I'm just sayin'
I find his place (they're nice apartments) and he's waiting for me in the parking lot.
"You look really cute," he says, and I appreciate him opening with this.
However, it's 9:43 and the movie starts at 9:50.
"You still want to go?" he asks.
I consider this. What will do otherwise, I wonder, eyeing his apartment with interest. Nothing good, I decide.
"Yup. There's tons of previews - let's rock!" I say. He doesn't argue and we hop in his car and are off.
The car ride is fine - I blather about my weekend and all the work I'd done, etc. etc. and he listens becuase he apparently didn't do anything exciting except go to a lame wedding reception for a coworker the day before. I wonder equally if he is as cagey about information as he seems, as lame as he proclaims, or dating 5 other girls concurrently with me and thus he can't talk about what he's been up to all weekend. With this guy, I can't tell.
He pays for my ticket, and I'm getting to the awkward phase where I wish he'd let me pick one up or that we'd go dutch becuase my independant streak is kicking in. The movie hasn't started and is in previews when we find our seats in the mostly empty gigantic theatre. After all, it's Sunday at 10:00. Most people (including both of us) have to work the next morning.
The movie is so good I watch IT and don't worry too much about making a move on my companion. Also, I want to see if HE'LL make a move. I found earlier in the day during the planning of tonight's excursion that SmartyPants may not be much of a decision maker:
"so, we still on for a movie?" I asked on my way to church.
"sure." (PS I hate this. doesn't "sure" sort of sound like you're strongarming someone into your bidding. you asked ME, bucko.)
"ok...so...still want to go this afternoon? I'm free after 2:30" I text back, choosing to ignore "sure" and give him the benefit of the doubt.
"sure."
okay, now, I can't ignore it.
"dude, do you want to go out with me or not? I worked all weekend and I could hang out with my kid if you're busy," I shoot back.
"I really want to see you. :-) what time works best?"
son of a bitch.
"i'm free after 2:30 but i have to mow my mother's lawn for her, so i just need an hour of daylight at some point. So I could do afternoon or after dinner?"
"depends on what you prefer."
I'm going to punch him through the phone. I literally am going to grab through the phone, find his collar, and shake him.
"okay, well, if you're letting me pick, i say after dinner. the later the better," I say, thinking I can hang out with my son till after he's asleep and then head towards SmartyPants and the northland hole of far far away. Also, evening holds more promise for making out.
"just tell me when you're heading this way."
The planner in me is rolling her eyes.
"Look up movie times since you know which theatre is near you and then I'll tell you what time I can be there," I instruct as I'm moving between church and a church class.
"There's an 8 at the dive theatre, or if we go at 9:50, I can take you to the nice theatre," he says. I'm at the CVS after my church class now, buying an expensive digital scale upon which I intend to chart my progress on this ridiculous diet I'm on (having realized the very real possibility of having to be naked in front of someone at some point).
"do you have a pref?" I ask, thinking I know the answer.
"depends on what you want."
I talk myself out of handing my phone to the cute checkout boy to read the text and tell me if I'm crazy and that this boy either gives bad phone or that he's just not that into me or that he's playing it too cool.
"Later is better," I shoot back. "I'll head your way around 9."
Back to the movie. In the dark, I see his arms are folded across his chest, but that he keeps moving his hand to his knee as if it MIGHT sneak my way. I smile a couple times in amusement, contemplate a dramatic act of putting my arm around HIS shoulder, and then focus on the movie.
As we leave, I admit "I liked the movie so much, I didn't even make a move on you!"
He gives me a look. I grin back at him.
Back in his parking lot, he says he'd love to have me come up but that he understands it's late if I need to go home.
"I drove all the hell the way up here. I want to see your place," I say.
His place is a nice 2 bedroom with a surprising amount of nice decor, trash the needs to be taken out, and a strange amalgamation of electronics on the coffee table that looks like he's working on a DIY bomb but I assume is probably video game related. He has an expensive leather couch and shows me every room but only gestures to his darkened bedroom. I make a big deal out of assessing and approving of his place, and I think it's funny that he's almost a little embarassed by the state of it.
"It's a bachelorpad," he says with a little shrug. I smile and nod. "I have a lot of guy friends. This isn't rocking my prim and proper world."
He finally invites me to sit on the couch, and then sits ACROSS the couch from me. Like literally on the otherend of the couch as far from me as possible. Dude. You know what we're up here for. It's late. Why are you wasting my time?
We make small talk, but I keep grinning becuase he's CLEARLY waiting and or debating making a move. After one particular pause in conversation in which he's giving me his great blankface and I'm grinning with a lot of knowing on my own face, he says "what are you grinning about?"
"we're making out before I leave," I announce, settling back against the couch with a raised eyebrow of challenge.
Suddenly his whole face lights up. Ha! He IS awkward. He's trying to play it cool, but he's barely covering a geeky mcnerdboy. I see you in there, geeky mcnerdboy. You are nervous and you are trying to cover it up.
"Oh we are, are we?" he counters, raising his own eyebrow.
I nod. "Just thought I'd put that out there." I make no move towards him but continue to grin. Take the bait, take the bait, take the bait.
"And what if I object?" he says.
Oh, biggest bullshit ever.
"Do you object?"
He starts to make a face that says just maybe he does (bullshit!) and I glance at the clock, see how late it is, feel how tired I am from a long weekend, and decide I need to get this show on the road. So I lunge at him. Jump him. It happens.
We're barely kissing though when he pulls back and looks at me.
"Is there a problem?" I ask. He shakes his head.
"No problem."
"Then, kiss me." If he doesn't kiss me, I'm leaving. It's late.
"How bad do you want me to?"
Now, I make a face. "How bad do you want to?" I counter, trying not to look at the clock again.
"I don't know," he says playfully, but my playfulness is bout to wind down.
"I could go back over to my side of the couch and we could keep chatting," I challenge.
"You could" he says, calling my bluff.
Well, hell's bologna. I refused to be ousted, so I retreat back to my side of the couch and have just started to smooth my dress into place and feel surly when he practically tackles me and pins me to the couch.
"How do you like your side of the couch now?" he asks after we kiss for a while. He starts kissing down my neck.
"Better and better," I say.
"Tell me about it," he says, only semi-seriously.
I can't ever take this statement seriously though.
"Oh, [Smartypants] you are so HOT, and funny, and charming. You have great hair and eyes and you are a kissing MASTER. You are the master of all things kissing!" I say loudly with lots of melodrama.
He silences me with a kiss.
"Okay, you stop talking now," he says.
And I do.
At some point, we reach that dangerous point of having made out for a long time, being all hot and bothered, and I find myself having an internal reasoning session. It is late. My father is undoubtedly sleeping on my couch babysitting my son. I'm tired and bruised from a long weekend of events. I'm about to start my period and we both have to work in the morning. Not to mention, any next step take this situation to a different level of situation. And...I'm not sure I should go there yet, especially until I decided how I feel about the other bachelors on my prospect list.
My hormones, however, also make excellent arguments.
I pull back, sit up, breathe hard and try to swim to the surface of the hormonal rage.
"I really should go home," I say. It's after 1:00 now. Ack.
He shakes his head and works on distracting me, but I lean back as far as I can without falling off his lap and the couch.
"I like you. But I have to go home," I say. "To be continued?"
He pouts, pushes my dress up my legs and glances down. I make a suspicious face.
"I just had to know what color they were," he said, referencing my underwear. This makes me laugh.
"Red," I say, flashing him a peek. I show him a bra stap. "Also red." I'm wearing a red dress. "I always match."
"I'll keep that in mind," he says.
"Do you believe in the signs behind the colors? I don't even know what red means, but I know what black means," I say, finally getting to my feet althought my knees are just a little wobbly from the hormonal assault.
"Nah," he says, standing and reaching for me.
More kissing commences, but I managed to back us closer to the exit as we do until I finally pull away, catch my breath.
"I'm GOING," I say firmly.
"I'll leave the door unlocked for 10 minutes in case you change your mind," he says with a smile.
I escape, and I only falter once between the buildings, considering running back up the stairs. Then I beat the hormones done, tell them that there will be another day, and get into my car and head home. He texts me all the way home, clearly surprised and chagrined I didn't take up his little offer to stay.
The last text reads "I was trying to play it cool but I got all caught up in you at the end."
And this tells me a lot about SmartyPants. The question will be whether I can break that cool down quicker as time goes by. I'm interested in trying.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
GD automatic renewals
I learned the hard way today that match.com automatically renews, rather than automatically cancels.
So, the adventure continues whether I like it or not.
SmartyPants and I are moving along. We caught lunch today and are going to the movies on Sunday. I think that we read too much into one another's texts - or at least I do on his, mostly because they sometimes come off so disinterested or snarky that I literally have to put down my phone and figure out if I've read some signal wrong.
My best friend said that this is game playing. I said that some of the fun of this is the constant one-upping but that I can see already it's going to be a big deal for one of us to get serious. She said "yeah, you're gonna have to do that at some point in a relationship"
And then I remembered why relationships make me nervous.
I'm not nervous yet. Honestly, I'm too busy at work to worry about a relationship yet, and I also think that even though Sunday will be, I guess, technically, date number 5 that I feel comfortable with where we're at but not ready to play house. That's a good place to be in.
I also got a request for a "semi-scandalous" photo from him to "tide him over" until the weekend. I asked another friend what this meant. She said it meant that the nature of our relationship will turn chiefly sexual. I'm not sure this is true as I've done nothing more than kiss this boy - although, that's requiring some increased restraint. I'm glad to be attracted to someone physically and as a person. This has been a HUGE sticking point for me in my recent dating life. Moreover, it's nice as a mama to have a guy - a single, never married guy of all things - to at least APPEAR to think I'm some sort of hot stuff. I mean, when I said I was taking me son to swim lessons Saturday morning, I got a text back that said "mmmm, [Little Red] in a swim suit" and I thought, "oh honey, I can dress to flatter my body in clothes, but the swimsuit is a particularly unforgiving garment, but I so appreciate that I've fooled you into thinking otherwise through force of personality or trick of light"
Now, having inadvertently signed myself up till July 5 (hello, world, remind me of this date to CANCEL unless I'm still woefully single by this date)I found myself clicking on a message from a 33-year-old divorcee tonight who has 2 teenage daughters. That feels a LITTLE close to me, but he's an attractive ginger (WHAT?! THEY EXIST?!) and has a great profile read. The most important line of which was "i don't want to be in a relationship just to be in a relationship - chemistry is important" How many dates in do you stop being a match troller? I mean, I guess after you have a conversation about it?
Knowing the current state of me and Smartypants and our snailpace serious talk, I think I'm in the clear on this for a while.
I hope.
Ah, and saw hot lawyer this weekend at a friend's bday party. God, he is HOT. and a lawyer. and funny. And he still chose to sleep on the floor next to the couch I slept on at the end of the night. Case closed, folks. And probably for the best.
An update is on the books for Sunday after my movie date with Smartypants to see "Arthur"
Oh WAIT, i have to repeat this. So, i invited Smartpants to a movie last week and made some sassy little comment like "wanna go to the movies so I can make a sly move on you in the dark?"
and the reply was:
"1) i don't think you have sly in your arsenal 2) should I bring my special popcorn bowl with the hole in the bottom and 3) what movie"
if i wasn't interested in this boy and knew his particular sense of push the boundaries humor, i would have run for the hills on this one.
Instead, I reply:
"1) you might be surprised 2) EW and 3) narrow to 3 movies you wouldn't hate and I'll pick the winner"
If that's not diplomatic dating, I don't know WHAT is.
So, the adventure continues whether I like it or not.
SmartyPants and I are moving along. We caught lunch today and are going to the movies on Sunday. I think that we read too much into one another's texts - or at least I do on his, mostly because they sometimes come off so disinterested or snarky that I literally have to put down my phone and figure out if I've read some signal wrong.
My best friend said that this is game playing. I said that some of the fun of this is the constant one-upping but that I can see already it's going to be a big deal for one of us to get serious. She said "yeah, you're gonna have to do that at some point in a relationship"
And then I remembered why relationships make me nervous.
I'm not nervous yet. Honestly, I'm too busy at work to worry about a relationship yet, and I also think that even though Sunday will be, I guess, technically, date number 5 that I feel comfortable with where we're at but not ready to play house. That's a good place to be in.
I also got a request for a "semi-scandalous" photo from him to "tide him over" until the weekend. I asked another friend what this meant. She said it meant that the nature of our relationship will turn chiefly sexual. I'm not sure this is true as I've done nothing more than kiss this boy - although, that's requiring some increased restraint. I'm glad to be attracted to someone physically and as a person. This has been a HUGE sticking point for me in my recent dating life. Moreover, it's nice as a mama to have a guy - a single, never married guy of all things - to at least APPEAR to think I'm some sort of hot stuff. I mean, when I said I was taking me son to swim lessons Saturday morning, I got a text back that said "mmmm, [Little Red] in a swim suit" and I thought, "oh honey, I can dress to flatter my body in clothes, but the swimsuit is a particularly unforgiving garment, but I so appreciate that I've fooled you into thinking otherwise through force of personality or trick of light"
Now, having inadvertently signed myself up till July 5 (hello, world, remind me of this date to CANCEL unless I'm still woefully single by this date)I found myself clicking on a message from a 33-year-old divorcee tonight who has 2 teenage daughters. That feels a LITTLE close to me, but he's an attractive ginger (WHAT?! THEY EXIST?!) and has a great profile read. The most important line of which was "i don't want to be in a relationship just to be in a relationship - chemistry is important" How many dates in do you stop being a match troller? I mean, I guess after you have a conversation about it?
Knowing the current state of me and Smartypants and our snailpace serious talk, I think I'm in the clear on this for a while.
I hope.
Ah, and saw hot lawyer this weekend at a friend's bday party. God, he is HOT. and a lawyer. and funny. And he still chose to sleep on the floor next to the couch I slept on at the end of the night. Case closed, folks. And probably for the best.
An update is on the books for Sunday after my movie date with Smartypants to see "Arthur"
Oh WAIT, i have to repeat this. So, i invited Smartpants to a movie last week and made some sassy little comment like "wanna go to the movies so I can make a sly move on you in the dark?"
and the reply was:
"1) i don't think you have sly in your arsenal 2) should I bring my special popcorn bowl with the hole in the bottom and 3) what movie"
if i wasn't interested in this boy and knew his particular sense of push the boundaries humor, i would have run for the hills on this one.
Instead, I reply:
"1) you might be surprised 2) EW and 3) narrow to 3 movies you wouldn't hate and I'll pick the winner"
If that's not diplomatic dating, I don't know WHAT is.
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