Friday, October 26, 2007
What could be more fun than talking to a bunch of different guys for no longer than 4 minutes at a time? Nothing that I can think of!
After my TERRIBLE date on Saturday, I was very much in need for many short dates that would end in exactly 4 minutes. I figured if the guy was cute/nice/funny, they would "YES" me on their cards and I would do the same on mine, and we would eventually go out on a non-time-restricted date. If the guy was annoying, peace out homey!
The only downside to speed dating is the pool of men that show up. More than half were guys that I would not usually want to go out with...EVER. The few guys there who seemed like they'd be my type were okay, but only a few stuck out.
I picked 6 in total to say yes to (out of 14).
One guy (and honestly, the only one I was SUPER interested in) had a mutual match with me. I feel like I shouldn't give too much information about him just yet (being that we haven't actually gone out yet) for fear of jinxing what might happen.
BUT, I will keep you posted! ;)
Thursday, October 18, 2007
I am a pimp. I don't know how I do it, or why I do it, but I have managed to line up 3 dates for this week.
And they are good dates too!
Here's how the week looks:
Tuesday: concert with Sam
Thursday: drinks with Brian at my FAVORITE bar
Saturday: not sure yet what is going on, but something with Derek
And then I have to be up wicked early on Saturday for a conference. Great!
I decide to go out with Sam anyway (he did get me the tickets, so how could I bail?), and the concert is awesome, but he is SO not my kind of guy. Cool dude, but totally not my type. Still, didn't ask for money and then took me out to dinner.
After taking off work yesterday (I was absolutely dying), I am feeling slightly better, and decide to keep my date with Brian.
What an interesting guy...I don't mean interesting in the "wow, he's a nuclear physicist, and that's awesome" interesting, but "wow, he is the MOST AWKWARD guy ever".
Nervous would be the best word to describe him.
Perhaps I am too much woman for him!
Either way, we had 2 delicious glasses of wine, split an appetizer (I ended up with half of mine ricocheting onto the floor when I went to cut it), and the conversation (when it actually flowed) was nice. He was actually shaking when he put the money in the bill holder (awwww). I have decided that if he calls again for a date, I will go out with him again.
Note: I have been up since 6:30 am because I had to go to a conference for work. I ended up doing actual work at this conference, and was therefore DEAD TIRED when the date actually occurred. Perhaps this is why the following will sound rather violent.
What. An. Ass.
How, how, HOW I ask you could a guy that I spent 2 hours talking to on Monday night turn into such an arrogant dick within 6 days (counting Monday for those of you who actually counted)???
We spent most of dinner debating about things. This is not always a bad thing, but when it occurs all throughout the date, it's annoying. He asked me questions like, "If you could choose a power from one of the heroes on 'Heroes', what would it be?" and the criticize the answers I gave. He criticized me for "being late" (I told him to call me when he got out of the subway, since I live 2 blocks from the stop, and I'd walk up to the place), even when he pushed our date from 5pm to practically 7pm (even though he had to be back home for a party by 11)! He noted that the first beer ordered was "watered down" (it wasn't), and that the buffalo burger (actual buffalo) was dense (like him?), and that onions give him heartburn (ummm, okay?).
The best part was when he asked me, "If you could have three wishes, what would they be?" I, being me, said my usual, "I'd like people to be happy" kind of answers. After tearing them apart, he told me two of his.
He wanted to essentially be G-d/Hiro Nakamura/Jesus.
He wanted the power to go through time.
He also wanted the power to change things into anything he wanted.
What an egocentric asshole I kept thinking.
My favorite part of the night was after he paid and had gone to the bathroom one last time before leaving. As the bus boys came over to clean off our table, I let out a huge sigh of exasperation. They both looked at me and laughed as I realized how loud a sigh it was.
Oh, and they also threw out the 99 cent water bottle he had with him.
Which he informed me they did, over and over and over again.
All the way from the restaurant to the train.
Have I mentioned how happy I am to be home in pyjamas?
I email Larry. Why, you ask? Because, as any good Jew should right before the Yom, I feel guilty for the way things ended between us. Plus, I'm kinda annoyed at the whole David situation, pissed at Michael for sending me a bullshit "I'm sorry" text this morning, and I'm horny.
It's been a month and change since I saw him last. A girl has needs!
So, I email him. I basically apologize for what seemed to be me blowing him off, but I swore I wasn't, and wanted to just say I'm sorry.
I honestly don't expect him to respond.
Which he does. Not right away, but he does. This is a good start.
A few weeks later:
We finally get to hang out one Saturday night. He brought over cupcakes. We had sex.
Mediocre sex, really. I'm not so sure that I will be calling him again for a booty call.
David and I finally get together again (it had been two weeks since we were able to coordinate schedules to see each other since the last time). We meet at a bar I've been dying to go to, and order drinks.
He, as usual, finishes his before I finish mine, but doesn't order another one.
Something is up.
"So, I'm terrible at this," he says, "but I have to do it. See, I ran into my ex the other day, and I realized that I still have feelings for her, and it's not fair to get into something with you when I don't know what's going to happen with her...."
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah...
I told him that I was so glad that he said this, because I had recently started talking to my ex as well (truth), and I wasn't sure about my feelings about him (Michael) myself (lie). I gave him an awkward hug, and walked home in time to catch Grey's Anatomy on TV.
Oh yeah, about that whole me talking to Michael again. I was cleaning up my buddy list and deleted him. This apparently unblocked him, and he IMed me. We were civil, and it was a very nice conversation (I missed having our conversations). I have realized, though, that I am happy with just being friends. I have no desire to date a slacker anymore, and need someone who has a good head on their shoulders.
Plus, as an ego boost, I think he got kicked out of his program. That fills me with evil glee, but Yom Kippur is coming up tomorrow, so I can atone for that.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Note to the men: if you want to impress a girl, this is the way to do it. We don't need flowers or money or jewelry. We need effort!
David and I meet up for date numero tres at Union Square. He hands me a rose (awwww) and proceeds to tell me that we will be going on a Karma Date. He has researched a bunch of places to go for a drink, dinner and dessert in the area, has printed them out on tiny sheets of paper, crumpled them up and now I have to choose.
For drinks we went to The Gotham Bar and Grill. Dinner was at a sushi place nearby (totally forgot the name of the place). Dessert was at Max Brenner's.
Oh Max Brenner...how I love you.
Nothing says "mini-orgasm" like chocolate pizza paired with a coconut martini. Yeah, it's that serious.
Amazing date...absolutely amazing.
The part that wasn't amazing, though, was the kissing at my apartment. The first time David and I kissed, I felt weak in my knees. Now, nothing. Nada. Zip, zero, zilch.
Maybe things aren't clicking the way they need to be. We get along super well, but I'm just not sure.
I plan the date this time, so we go to my favorite wine store (which, to keep anonymity, I can't say which one) and pick up a bottle of wine before heading off for Thai (also at an undisclosed location). I'm looking super cute in my green flouncy skirt and black shirt with adorable sandals.
We finish dinner (so good) and head down to the park to sit on the Pier.
Wait a second...this seems very familiar.
The reason this is familiar is because this is almost an exact duplication of my first date with Michael. We went to a Pan-Asian restaurant and the walked down to the Pier to talk until the wee hours of the morning. It was great. I was even wearing the same outfit.
Except the magic wasn't the same here. I felt extremely nervous (probably because I was waiting for something to happen with him like last time), and I couldn't look him in the eye when we spoke (I have a problem with eye contact. I'm working on it).
Still, the conversation we had was nice, and we kissed for a bit before I went upstairs to my apartment. All in all, it was a pleasant evening.
Especially since no one passed out.
Nothing says "this is not a classy joint" better than having the bartenders flash the patrons within a few minutes of being there.
"Do you want to get out of here?" asks David, looking nervous as all hell. He insists to me over and over again that this place is not as bad as it seems.
"Sure", I answer, and we head uptown to a wine bar (where I get to show off my recent wine snobbery), and chill there until it closes, then head across the street to the jazz bar and stay there until it closes.
The setting was perfect for a romantic first kiss. It was misting out, he had lent me his suit jacket because I was cold, and it was Manhattan. He asked me, ever so politely, if he could kiss me. He did, and we spent the next hour kissing (I say kissing instead of making out because there was no groping involved).
The the strangest thing happens.
David tells me he has to get up early for work, and as nice as this is, he's going to have to go home. So, as we walk to get me a cab he suddenly falls on the ground, hitting his head on the window of the jazz club (and breaking it). He then looks at me (who knows how absolutely horrified I looked) and says, "How did I get down here?"
A bottle of water and some saltines later I learn that he didn't eat anything before we met up. As we say goodnight (he lets me keep his coat as a way to get a second date out of me), he says "Well, this will either make a really funny story one day, or a really funny story one day".
I come home feeling odd and mildly confused.
1) She will compare and contrast the guys who message the two of you and point out their faults. This is not always a bad thing, but when the two of you have different tastes in men, it tends to be pointless in the long run.
2) When she's signed in, and you have a friend over who has heard about Larry, but hasn't seen him, and you show her his profile while your roommate is signed in, he will try to message her!
3) She will tell you.
Let the awkward game of "who is going to tell who first that they know there's a connection" begin!
Okay, so for those of you confused, here's what happened:
- My roommate is on Match, and we show my friend Larry's profile.
- Because Larry can see who has viewed his profile, he sees my roommate, and sends her a "hey, what's up" email.
- My roommate tells me.
- I get annoyed (how dare he!), but then realize that we had 2 freaking dates, and that does not constitute a relationship, and that I am looking at other people as well.
- My two roommates get pissed at him, but I point out the above epiphany I had.
- My roommate (the one who got the message) emails him back something casual, just to see how far this will go.
- Larry, unbeknownst to him who my roommate is, continues flirting.
- My roommate, comes clean to him that the only reason she was looking at his profile was because I told her to find it, and that he's seeing me, so she's not interested.
- He replies, "Okay, but that doesn't mean we can't talk, right?"
Now, I must pause here, because to me that comment seems a little sketch. But, Larry keeps on calling/IMing me, so I figure, what the hell. I know what the situation is (even if he thinks I don't). If I can squeeze out a few more free meals/sex out of this, why not?
Unfortunately, the powers that be have another plan for me. After a few times of trying to get together, I get sick. Like, for real sick, and Larry thinks I am blowing him off. How do I know this? Because to me it felt like I was blowing him off, even though I wasn't, and eventually he stopped calling.
Oh well, on to the next one.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Shackelbolt and I meet up at the train station by me. Oh shit. He's wearing a yarmulke. He's also crazy dressed up because, as he tells me, he has a quick job interview that afternoon, which will only take a few minutes and then we can go out.
What the fuck?
Who the hell schedules a job interview and a date at the same time.
Oh hell no!
We walk to the park, and we are sitting on the bench talking for a bit. I am extremely uncomfortable right now. He is totally not reading my body language at all (which, if it could talk would say, "FUCK OFF") and is attempting to kiss me.
"I think you could be a keeper."
Are you serious? A keeper? We have been out on one date, and you are saying I'm a keeper? Are you totally stupid? Are you unable to see that I am pissed as hell right now?
"Yeeeeah, I don't think I can do this."
Awkward silence that lasts for what seems like forever
He tells me that he thinks I am making a mistake. I reply that I don't think that, and that I wish him luck on his interview, but I will be leaving now.
I walk home.
Larry is online and IMs me. "Whatcha up to?"
I make up a story about how my friend bailed on me, so I'm free the rest of the day, and he offers to come over and cook me dinner.
We meet up, go get some wine, go shopping and come back to my place.
It is awesome having a professional chef cook for you. I highly recommend everyone have that happen to them at one point in your life. Chef hours suck, but if you are willing to suck it up for a few dates, the rewards will be great when they cook for you. Trust me.
We had sex. It was good too, because it was the first time I had sex since Michael, and it was awesome. Plus, I got to have an amazing dessert after the sex.
This is too good for words.
Which is why I got all excited when I had a date with The Black Heeb.
Shackelbolt and I met on JDate. I was intrigued by his profile, and found out he had converted to Judaism two years ago. He said he was Modern Orthodox (uh-oh), but that he was very liberal (good).
We meet at a bar. He's cute. Tall. Good dresser. Wears a DC comics hat and a shirt that says NERD. Awesome.
Maybe he's not that religious. I know plenty of Modern Orthodox Jews who eat out at unkosher places. Maybe he's one of them!
It becomes very clear to me that he wants to keep Shabbos and keep kosher in ways I am not prepared to.
But he also kisses me. A lot. So how religious could he really be?
I agree to a second date, even though I have some concerns in the back of my mind.
Within a few days of being on the site, I meet Larry, a chef who works in the city. We decide to meet up for drinks on a Sunday night after he gets off from work.
I show my roommate his profile. "Oh my G-d, I know that guy", she says. "He messaged me a few months ago, but he sounded illiterate, so I never wrote him back".
I believe in giving everyone a shot, because I know that people are different in person than they are online. The online world is tricky, and meeting someone in person is the best way to get to know someone. Plus, how are they going to take you out to dinner or drinks when they are at home in front of their computer?
Larry and I meet up, and he's got bad boy written all over him. He's got a tattoo. He smokes. He has crazy stories about where he's had sex. By the end of our conversation our bar stools are so close our legs are intertwined.
Making out in a doorway is interesting. It provides that rush of making out in public without being in the way of pedestrians. I also learned that the building keeps their AC on even when no one is in the building.
I definitely want to hang out with this guy again. I'm pretty sure he's not boyfriend material, but he could be a lot of fun.
Here I am, minding my own business, trying to find a normal guy who will treat me nicely, and along come all these weirdos who want me to do odd things with them.
Him: Whatcha up to?
Me: Not much. It's too hot to even move today.
Him: No kidding. I had to wear a thong today it's so hot.
A thong? Really? What kind of guy, other than a stripper, wears a thong?
Me: Yeah, that sucks. Well, I have to run actually.
Him: Do you have a few minutes for some cybersex
I block him
After chatting a bit online (and I honestly should have seen the dirty direction this was going to go in, but I figured I'd give him a shot), we plan a date. We go to the same place I went with Daniel on our first date (which I have decided at this point will be my "first date" spot), and then come back to my place.
The shit that came out of this guy's mouth was totally inappropriate for a first make-out session. He wanted to sleep with me, I didn't want to sleep with him (not on the first date at least). He went on and on (and on and on and on) about how much he wanted me to do various things to him and how he was going to do various things to me. All I kept thinking was, "Do you kiss your mother with this mouth?"
I am not into dirty talk. Never have been. I feel silly saying this stuff. You should be able to know how your "cock makes me feel" by me moaning or screaming out in ecstasy while we are having sex. Don't ask me! It's lame, and you are stupid for not paying attention.
Needless to say there was no second date.
Daniel has disappeared off the face of the planet. He is not returning my texts or phone calls, so I pretty much get the picture. It's fine, though, because I wasn't even sure about him to begin with.
The Bosnian not coming made me upset for two reasons:
1) I was REALLY looking forward to him being there because he's a cool guy and I was hoping to hook up with him in some capacity.
2) He said he was going to get me "Flashpoint" (my favorite Jenna porn) for my birthday.
I'm more upset about not getting the porn.
I ask this to my Bosnian friend after he tells me this is when he will be returning home.
I chew my vegetable dumpling as I ponder this predicament. How will I be able to hook up with this guy for a substantial amount of time before he goes back in a month? Do I want to do this at all? He's so much younger than me (4 years), and, although he's very, very, very cute, will be GOING BACK TO BOSNIA!!!
I switch the subject by asking him about Bosnia. I decide that if I can't have a fling with him, I at least can forge a friendship that might result in a free place to stay if I ever go visit him.
I stay out too late on a work night. It's pouring out when we leave the restaurant (he paid), and by the time I get home I am soaking wet and mildly sad.
At least he's coming to my birthday party.
They are fun because I get to get naked under a sheet I'm wearing and get drunk with my friends.
They are fun because I get to go to the liquor store, in said toga, to get more rum.
They are fun because cute boys from Bosnia want to hang out with me afterwards.
That's what my brother asks me when I tell him about my date.
I start questioning myself about what happened that night. Did he try to slip me something? Wouldn't I have passed out? Maybe puking was a good thing that happened?
So, Daniel decides to show me how big of a hot shot he is, and invites me out for drinks and dancing at The Bowery Hotel. Not a big deal, since I've been there before, but it's still nice, and I get all fancy shmantzy in my black dress and heels. I feel awesome!
I always get nervous before getting to a place that I'm unfamiliar with. Will I be able to find where I'm going? Will I remember what the guy looks like? Will I be able to not look like an idiot while figuring the previous questions out?
I find him (thank goodness) and we have a few drinks. Yet again, the conversation is good, but there's still something I'm not sure about. Is it the fact that he's older? His build? I can't place my finger on it.
We, miraculously, get into the dance area without having to wait on the line. Wait a sec, we don't have to wait? What the hell is this? I'm not someone important enough to not wait on a line!
Then something freaky happens. We are dancing (he's soooooo white) and all of a sudden I feel dizzy. I excuse myself, run to the bathroom, and puke. I'm puking! What the crap? This is not normal. I ate dinner beforehand, didn't drink too much, and have been feeling fine. What's the matter with me?
Thank goodness for Listerine strips. Did you know that if you shove 5 of them in your mouth, no one will know that you just emptied the contents of your stomach into a toilet? Well, I guess if you are bulimic you knew, but not me!
I go back, switch to water for the rest of the night, and around 3am we head out.
Now the moment of truth. How am I getting home?
Daniel hails a cab. We get in, and I say my address. We get to my apartment, he pays for the cab (how nice) and walks me to my door. We then proceed into a full-on, hour long make-out session that, honestly, gets a tad graphic for being outside.
What's going through my head? HOW IS THIS GUY NOT NOTICING THAT I PUKED EARLIER? I mean, yay and all for Listerine strips, but how is he not aware that there is something terribly off about my breath?
Finally, I excuse myself, thank him for a wonderful evening, and go upstairs.
He and I chat for a while. He's older than the men I'm used to dating (35), has a house in Philly and an apartment here in Manhattan, and seems like a decent enough guy. We set up a date at a place of my choosing.
Date day rolls around. I'm looking quite fantastic, if I do say so myself.
I have no clue what he looks like. He described himself as tall and good looking (or at least he's been told). I get to the bar, and he is totally not what I expect. He's built like a football player (he did play in college), and is wearing a hat, so I can't assess the hair situation. The conversation is good. I get wine, he gets Jack on the rocks. We do a flight of wines (I end up hating most of them). We get another round.
He asks if I'd like to get food upstairs and I say yes. The food is great, the atmosphere is nice, and the conversation is awesome. For the first time in my life there is a guy sitting across from me who tells me that my job sounds fascinating. I'm still not sure if this guy will be relationship material, but it's still early.
The check comes. He pays it without flinching. This could be the start of something good!
He gives me a peck on the cheek and I go home happy and renewed.
My life is over.
I will never find anyone else like him.
Shit...I'm single again.
I go through my normal routine after a relationship ends. I find all the pictures of us and hide them (I must admit that I didn't shred them right away...that took a few months to do), delete him from my phone (along with his friends and family), IM, email, and photo website. No pictures remain on my computer or phone anymore. My MySpace profile relationship status is set back to "single". I reactivate my JDate profile and pray that his profile doesn't come up ever.
I fucking hate him.
I get my stuff back from him, cry for the weekend, tell everyone at work, call all my friends to vent, and decide to join Weight Watchers to get rid of all the weight I gained while being with him.
How could he do this to me? He was supposed to be the one.
My friends try to get me to go out and get drunk to solve my problems. I'm not a drinker when I'm upset. It only makes me more upset, so I decline, thanking my friends for being there for me.
By Monday I am better. By Friday I'm fucking awesome. Shit...I have no plans for this Friday. Or Saturday. Crap.
I hate not having a boyfriend. This blows.
I saw this coming since February, when Michael told me he was getting kicked out of his doctoral program.
No, wait. To be honest, I saw this coming since November, when he told me that there was something "missing" from our relationship. He loved that we could hang out endlessly, have great sex (having so many orgasms in one session we actually started to count after that), that I got along with his friends and family well, but that was not enough. He thought I wasn't high-maintenance enough for him (like his ex, who demanded the most ridiculous things from him during their brief relationship). I didn't demand, I didn't whine or complain...I was happy, and that wasn't enough.
Fast forward to April.
I should have gone to the movies with my friends. I should have ditched him for the evening, even though we hadn't seen each other in weeks, and gone to see that movie.
"I'll come over to you", he said. Uh-oh. He never came over to me.
He came over, sat on my bed, took my hands and stared at the floor. "I don't think I can do this anymore".
Here was the man I thought I was going to marry. On paper, he was awesome. Tall, smart (getting his doctorate for Pete's sake!), funny, sarcastic, good in bed, devoted to making me cum as many times as possible, a decent cook (although not a terribly healthy one), great at getting along with my friends and family, and, best of all, Jewish enough for me. We looked great together, we could spend hours in bed and not care about moving, we planned trips to go away...I thought I was in love. Yet, in the back of my mind, I knew that he wasn't the right one for me. I knew that he was incapable of loving me (whether he could love someone else one day is something neither of us knew), incapable of stepping out of his "slacker zone", and totally incapable of having a normal, healthy relationship.
The one thing I kept thinking, as he went on about how maybe our timing was off (he had the balls to tell me the story of his aunt and uncle who dated, broke up, dated other people, and then found their way back to each other), how he could see himself getting married to me, having kids, and being content, but that wasn't enough, and how he wanted to have me in his life, was "I can't believe I missed that movie!"