You didn't miss much

Hi. I'm a bit embarrassed that it's been more than two months. I do have some stories for you though; some interesting, some perhaps not. We'll start with an update on the speed-daters.

They lived up to their billing. I went out with Frank once, to a wine bar in the Village where one of the servers looked like an Italian version of Jake Gyllenhaal. We had a good time, he's one of those guys who doesn't laugh long, but laughs loud. You know, like one gigantic "Ha!" or whoop of laughter that turns heads. We're somewhat similar, a little reserved at first, but smart and fun (if I do say so myself ;o) ). Anyway, a day or two later I proposed getting together again over that weekend, forgetting he was going off to visit his parents, so I said we could talk when he got back. Well, we didn't. And that was that. I toyed with the idea of calling him, but I wasn't actually interested enough.

The there's Travis. He was a charmer, an easy talker, and in the words of a friend "clearly into" me. After our first date, where we went to dinner followed by the best gelato (Cones, in the West Village), and a parting kiss ont he subway, I knew I liked him. When he volunteered to go out to dinner and trivia with my friends from work, I liked him more. I mean, so ready to meet the friends? I've got to say I was a bit impressed with the cock-sure move. At trivia he was funny, engaging, and made everyone else like him too. He came home with me, and though we spent a PG-rated evening, he did spend the night. I will say, it was nice to have someone there in the morning to have breakfast with and kiss goodbye. Too corny? Well, he had a business trip so we didn't see each other for a week or so, but got together for dinner soon after. He suggested coming up to my neighborhood, so I am not so naive that I believed we wouldn't end up at my place, but he also mentioned the plus that the trains would be more frequent this time of day, so I figured he wouldn't be staying. Imagine my surprise when he showed up with a bag. Not a briefcase, but a bonafide overnight duffle bag. I'm sorry, what? This was the fourth time we had ever spent time together. Maybe I set a bad precedent the time before, but it still seemed presumptuous of him. To cut to the chase, he did not get everything he was hoping for, and neither did I, since what I wanted was my bed to myself. The next morning only compounded my now waning infatuation. I get up early. I get to work early. Earlier than I have to, yes, but that's the way I like it. He had left with me on a weekday before, so should've known that. If he had forgotten, he had me at 6:15 to remind him that he had thirty minutes to shower/and or have breakfast before I had to leave. Maybe he was acting out his disappointment with the night before, but I sat and waited while he tooled around and made me leave 15 minutes later than I wanted to. I know it's technically not a big deal, but when it's not your house you should be polite enough to get out when requested to by the owner of said house. Anyway, that kind of killed it for me, and the two following weekends at Phish concerts apparently killed it for him . . . or maybe he wasn't so much interested in me as what I might do for him. Personally, I don't think I'm missing out on much.

My next foray in the dating world was a blind date. More on that in a bit, as I should probably get up and do other things today. Have a good one!

So, the dating.

Will I ever be totally comfortable with it? I'm guessing not. I'd kind of like to fast forward to the homey, secure part of the relationship, but not miss the zippy butterflies that come with a new infatuation. Is that possible? I got a practical lesson in first dating about two and a half weeks ago with the speed-dating I mentioned back then (I had computer issues, a new one is on its way, and yes I realize it took me a long time to get one), and I must admit that it wasn't wholly unpleasant. In fact, I had much more fun than I thought I would.

When I first walked into the bar, the girl running it said that they were going to wait 10 or 15 more minutes for people to get there. It had been raining, and we all know that slows people down. Or something. I can't remember if I mentioned how I got convinced this was a good idea, but the short version is that my former roommate (no falling out, just life) forwarded me a Groupon for it, positing that it could be not only good for my love life but good for my blog. She sensed I needed help. She was right. So anyway, it was a good deal, and she had a point, so I bought it and then a short four months later actually used it. Back from the tangent now, what this basically meant was that you had a barful of adults wearing nametags who would soon be engaged in something a lot of people will either never try or never admit to having done. No, not that. Get your minds out of the gutter.

I did my best saunter up to the bar to get myself a beer, which turned out to be a very good idea since essentially talking for an hour straight tends to dry the throat, and then did my best to look like I was cool and casual rather than slightly awkward and uncomfortable. Fortunately, I managed to catch the eye of an attractive blond . . . girl, who invited me over to chat with her and another girl, a brunette. We were the tallest women in the room, with me the absolute tallest, which I found a little surprising. I mean, I know most women like a tall man, and would've expected more women 5'9" and taller, but maybe they all already have boyfriends or something. What resulted in any case was you had me and my two friends, and then a bunch of 5' tall girls. Did I not mention that this was a speed-dating event specifically for men 6'1" and over? I may offend some people here, but if you are 5'0" you have no business dating a guy who's more than a foot taller than you. It's not fair for the tall girls, nor for the little Napoleons. Really, who are they supposed to date? Maybe I'm size-ist, but there you go.

So the event actually starts, and it was surprisingly fun. I felt like I was on the attractive end of the spectrum of attendees, and since everyone's doing the same thing, no one can judge you for it. Yes, I do rationally understand that I only think strangers are judging me in my everyday life and they are actually not, but it's the same insecurity that made my mom so embarrassing when I was a kid, so we're just going to try to work around it. Here's the cast of the most memorable characters:

The 1st guy- When he sat down I thought to myself, "If this is how the night's going to go, then the only number I'm going to want is Caitlin's (the blonde from the pre-date wait)". Judgmental, I know, and we did end up having a nice conversation, so I was sad I had judged him, but he did kind of look like a hobbit. Indie Hobbit.

The 1st guy I liked- Frank is a trained architect. He's cute, smart, and really open. Was a nice normal guy and seemed pretty genuine.

The guy that got away- We mutually agreed that we were interested when you go online afterward and pick the people you liked. I was psyched. This guy was crazy cute with McDreamy hair, and actually is a doctor. But, he had sweat stains on his underarms, so he was just far enough from perfect that he was actually likeable. I emailed him. I haven't heard back. It's okay though, I've been distracted from the pain.

The creepy guy- You had to know there was going to be one. It's speed-dating in New York. The guy claims to be in his mid-30's, but I'm pretty sure the pock-marked face belies a more extensive personal history. Which he delved right into as soon as he sat down. I guess maybe he thought he'd distinguish himself from the other guys by dispensing with the pleasantries. He did.

The jackass guy- You had to know there was going to be one. It's speed-dating in New York. This guy's opening line was something like, "Tell me why I should give you 200 points right now." That's right, rather than trying to remember qualities of the women, he thought he'd just assign everyone a point value. I responded, "Well, I won't call you a jackass to your face for asking me that." I thought it was a good reply. And I got the points. For reasons you might be able to guess, I didn't end up interested. It's one thing to try to hook someone's attention with an out-there line, but eventually you have to be real to keep it.

The last guy- Didn't seem like he was interested. When we were hanging out at the bar afterward, he admitted he just really had to pee. That I can understand. Travis was easy to talk to though, and it turns out he was interested. I was too. He's fun, not a bull-shitter, and a smart guy.

There were some other guys there too, but like I said, these were the most mentionable. The two I gave names to you'll hear more about, but I'm getting tired of typing so it'll have to be later. But I'll toss in something about my dad and his new foray into match-making. New computer comes in a few days, so hopefully I won't keep you waiting too long for an update. Have a good night!

Well good for you!

Hi weary waiters. For the two of you that read the blog, I'm sorry it's been so long. I find that when I have nothing to do, I do nothing most of the time, so it was a pretty dry summer for dating. I took a couple of trips, went to a wedding, visited my family, and hung out in the city, so it was a lovely summer despite the lack of men.

I did have one brief encounter. Very brief. But it was not the kind of encounter that leaves you thinking, "I wonder if he's single" but rather, "I wonder why he said that." I led a Habitat for Humanity trip down South, and we stayed in a parish hall. The first evening we arrived our hosts were hosting a meet-greet-and-admire with an artist whose paintings were displayed in the main church building. They let local artists display their stuff for free for a certain stretch of time, requiring in return a single evening of wine, cheese, and metaprocessing the artist's work. Anyway, they were pretty insistent in their politely Southern way, you know, the type of Southerners who follow an insult with "bless her heart" to absolve themselves of any perceived impropriety or slight, so we went over. I was promptly introduced to an elementary school principal who was in the process of growing out his beard in order to play Santa Claus. Apparently it's his yearly May to December ritual. After standard discussion of our shared profession, the first question he asked me was "How tall are you?" I answered, and he said, "I've always liked tall women." Now this is hardly the first time I've been asked the question and heard this response to my answer, but come on. The guy was prepping to play Santa Claus, there were teenagers present, and we were in a church. Really? I don't remember if he went on to discuss why exactly he likes tall women (we can all imagine what he likes them for), because my mind immediately went into "la-di-da-if-I-can't-hear-you-maybe-it-will-be-less-awkward" mode. I don't know if he was envisioning a May-December tryst in August, but I surely was not.

Maybe this seems an odd thing to stick in one's craw (as I think may once have been said in the South), but as many times as I have heard it, I still don't understand a couple of things. Why did you think I needed to know this about you? What do you expect me to say in return? "Thanks"? Is that an appropriate response? How about "me too"? Actually, now that I think about it, that might solve the problem and would at least change the subject. It's just, no matter what you say, that conversation is now dead. Unless you start talking about all the other tall women he's admired I guess, but I don't know many women who would enjoy that line of discourse. So guys, just keep it to yourself, at least until we know each other well enough that if you say something like, "I love that you're so tall", I can respond with a compliment in kind. Because it's not so much the material that's off, but the timing and delivery.

Well, sorry this wasn't a juicier, more interesting post but some time next week I'll have a post for you about -- drum roll please -- speed dating! And if you have any advice on how to be an enticing speed date, please send it along. So long til then!

What Would Emily Post Say?

Now, we all know I am nowhere close to being married, however, I have been to my share of weddings and am a fairly observant person and thus have picked up a lot about wedding etiquette. One of the most universal things that I have learned is this: it is most polite (and generally expected) to send save-the-date cards to those people you intend to invite to your wedding so that they may plan appropriately, but more importantly, to follow that first notice with an actual invitation to the wedding. "Obvious!" you say. Yet you, my friend, would be wrong. Maybe my penchant for hitting on cute groomsmen has gotten around, or my love of giving themed presents, or my pursed-lips-what-this-is-me-dancing face, and people have decided they just can't handle that on their wedding day. Whatever the reason, I have now twice been sent save-the-date cards without then having been invited to the subsequent wedding. I also know that the first wedding has occurred, and the second couple is still engaged (with wedding plans for August if my memory serves), so it's not like we have to feel badly about a relationship catastrophe, except for those between me and the betrothed.

The first time this happened was about 3 and a half years ago. I was living in an apartment with three other girls, one of whom was engaged. One of the girls, my fabulous now former roommate Veronica (I think that was her name in another post, but I'm too lazy to look so you'll just have to deal), and I tolerated our other roommates, who are nice people but not people we'd be friends with if craigslist hadn't brought us together, but since the one was getting married and the other planning to move in with friends from college, we decided to quietly look for two-bedroom apartments. Long story short, we found one, had about two weeks to find replacement tenants for our rooms and move out, all of which we did. Prior to moving out, our engaged roommate had given the rest of us each a save-the-date for her wedding. Post moving out, Veronica and I never heard from either one again, except to inquire about getting back their shares of the security deposit. Now, we both assumed that we were not invited because there was some bad blood about us moving out, even though we were not besties and in no way left them in the lurch. We were also very happy not to be required to go to what for us would have been an overly religious and teetotalling ceremony and reception respectively. Second most important rule (mine, not Emily Post's) of wedding etiquette: if you're making people sit through a possibly boring ceremony, they deserve alcohol at the reception, and they should not have to pay for it.

I only just realized that I had been snubbed a second time. I guy I knew from when I first moved to New York sent me a save-the-date at the beginning of the year for his August wedding. Now, I was surprised about this for a number of reasons. One was that I hadn't seen or talked to him except on facebook for a couple of years. Two was that the wedding is a destination wedding in Mexico, and I cannot imagine what kind of budget (or how few close friends and family) the couple has for me, an acquaintance now at best, to have been invited. Oh but wait, I wasn't actually invited! I was merely informed of the wedding, given the date, location, and hotel where I could book a room for a reduced rate. Perhaps that's why I never got past the wedding teaser? I never booked a room? I'm willing to bet it was more like they looked at their budget and proposed guest list and had to make cuts. Well, it was an honor just to be nominated. Good thing I practiced my gracious loser face.

The Moral of the Story

Apparently, just like sleeping with a guy too early, becoming facebook friends too quickly can end a relationship before it starts. So treasure your friend list and wait until you're sure he will treasure it as much as you do, just like your momma taught you.

*I found a post I wrote in February but never published, just a blip really, but oddly germane. It's up now if you're interested.

Seriously?! (Interrobang)

I thought I had seen or heard of most everything, but this one is truly special. I am incredulous at the stupidity of the situation. Utterly speechless. Almost. So, in my teaser of a day or two ago I let you know that I had another story to tell. Well, it got more interesting and ridiculous tonight. I'll start at the beginning.

My friend, who I consider to be among the best daters I've ever met (she's easy to talk to, genuinely interested in people, and eternally optimistic even when she's sad) suggested I try this dating website she was on, because it was free, and there are a large variety of people on it. Now, I've had enough of online dating not to pay for it again (yes, I have done that), but I hadn't been meeting anyone and figured what the hell. Little to nothing had come of it until about two weeks ago, when I got a message from a guy who sounded like he had actually read my profile, and was actually interested in getting to know me. He was straightforward, and within a short time asked if I was free to meet for drinks. We ended up at a place in Tribeca during that crazy sun-dershower last week, got along really well, and closed the night with a kiss and plans to meet again a few days from then at a tapas place he was excited to show me. Great. Fantastic. I go home and start thinking maybe I won't have to go speed-dating, and coyly tell you the same. Just as in the great tragedies of Sophocles however, hubris felled the hero (or anti-hero).

First, the guy texts me the night before we're supposed to meet up and tells me there was a fire in his building, his apartment is filled with smoke and thus he has to postpone our second date. I, being the slightly jaded New-Yorker I am, thought to myself "elaborate ruse or legitimate excuse?" I ended up giving him the benefit of the doubt, even though Google could find no report of the alleged fire. (Yes, I googled it, what?) A day or two later I get another text from him wanting to reschedule for Friday. I was free, so after a mental pat on the back for not having gone pscyho-accusatory about the "fire", I texted him back and agreed. Now, I changed jobs two years ago, but still really love the people I used to work with. They were having their start-of-summer party the same day, which I was informed of via facebook wall post by one of said former coworkers. In a wall-to-wall reply, I mentioned that I might not be able to go, because my current coworkers might want to go out, and then I had plans at 8. The next part of my comment is where things started to be set in motion. I then said, sarcastically and flippantly, as that is my wont, "but if they suck maybe I can meet you out after". I really meant no offense to the new guy, and forgot that we were even facebook friends and that he might see this on my profile, as I don't do the news feed thing (or maybe I do and don't realize and that's how he saw it). I honestly did not think I would be meeting them out late, as I was excited for date #2 with the new guy. I also only realized on my way out that new guy may have read the post and that I would be embarrassed if he misconstrued it. But then I thought, well he must realize I was being facetious (I don't really take myself too seriously, am sarcastic, and thought that those qualities are easily noticed after spending say, an evening alone in my company), and who really cares about facebook anyway? Apparently, new guy does. I got to our appointed meeting place a few minutes early, looked for him, and then proceeded to wait. After 20 minutes I texted. 20 minutes after that with no response I figured I had been stood up. So I did end up with the former coworkers at their post-dinner bar. By the by, if you are a girl and haven't had the raspberry UFO you should definitely try it!

The former coworkers commented on how stupid this guy must be to leave me hanging (thanks guys!), and I wondered out loud if facebook could have had anything to do with it. We made it a pretty early night, as you can see from the timing of this post, and I got home and checked my email to see if there was any note from the guy, thinking maybe there had been some sort of emergency, still unwilling to believe I could've gotten stood up for no good reason by a guy who had previously been so interested. There was nothing, so I decided to check facebook to see if there had been any chatter there. Except apparently, we are no longer friends. Not only that, but I couldn't even find him in a general search, so I'm pretty sure he blocked me. Am I the only person who thinks this reaction is a little out of proportion? I mean, if you're upset about the comment okay, but to not even cancel the date? To not give me the benefit of the doubt when you don't know me very well and thus could not possibly know what, if anything was meant by a comment made to somebody else, who doesn't know you, on facebook? To then block me, because I am such a horrible and evil person you never want to have contact with me again? Too bad I have your cell phone number jerk, or maybe he changed that too. Seriously? He's 33. And despite my tendency to speak before I think, I'm awesome. Are we really not mature enough to ask what that stupid fucking comment was about? Fine, then I guess he wasn't the man I was looking for anyway.

Oh, and the interrobang is a really fantastically named punctuation mark brought to my attention by Annie, which consists of an exclamation point superimposed on a question mark (or vice-versa, it's kind of a chicken-or-the-egg dilemma there), which as far as I know cannot be accurately reproduced on blogger but which I have tried to represent in the title in spirit if not in actuality.

My life ate my blog

Mid-January, long time no see. It was around then that I thought I would take advantage of the housing tax credit being extended, and would look seriously for an apartment to buy. So for four months, the only men in my life were Matthew, Mark and Luke (a biblical trio to be sure), otherwise known as my realtor, lawyer and mortgage lender. It was crazy. I went to open houses every weekend for about a month, put in and had an offer accepted mid-February, then moved in three months later. I had no idea things took that long, but apparently in Manhattan's crazy world of co-ops, that's pretty standard. So with that, work, vacations and finishing up a special certification for work, I was pretty busy for those months and didn't have the mental capacity necessary for anything but watching TV or hanging out with friends when not working. But the end of the story is, I'm now living by myself for the first time ever, in an apartment I like in a neighborhood I like, and given some time we may just end up in love. And I plan on getting a dog towards the end of the summer. And not just because I want to have someone to talk to when I get home ;o).

In the meantime, I haven't seen Adam since the last time I wrote, though I hope he's doing well. I saw JR for the first time in 6 months; we went for a walk around our then shared neighborhood. He asked if I wanted to go meet his girlfriend while she was at work. I thought that would be weird to say the least, so I declined. He offered to help me move, but because I haven't heard from him since, I was right in assuming that it was a crocodile offer (you know, like crocodile tears . . . fake . . . no?). I did bump into another guy I had gone out with a couple of times a few years ago, and he was super-nice, and seemed genuinely interested in and happy for the developments in my life. I'm sure I've mentioned him before, but it's been so long I have no idea what his blog name was. It made me feel really badly (again) about how I stopped seeing him, which was to ignore his phone calls because I didn't know what to say. In my defense, I was young and stupid.

In unrelated news, my former roomie (got to look up her blog name), used one of the old posts for an exercise she did with her students, so that's probably quadrupled my readership right there! She also introduced me to Groupon, when she forwarded me an offer they had for half off a speed-dating session. In the body of her message she suggested it would make a good subject for a post, killing two birds with one stone and guilting me significantly to buy it. So when I do that I'll write it up for you all, as I'm sure it will be an exercise in humility and humiliation! Schadenfreude sells! If things keep going as they are right now, which is too ridiculously early to tell, perhaps I won't need it. I'll keep you posted . . .

A teaser

Hi folks, if there are any of you left . . . I wanted to let you know that I will post for real very soon. I will explain the absence and hopefully allay your fears that I had dropped off the face of the planet. Almost five months, wow am I unreliable! Back soon, I promise.

A Bit of a Tangent

From the archives; I wrote this in February and never published it . . . not sure why. The last sentence, and sentiment, currently resonate with me.

So, the new man in my life is a real estate agent named Matthew. I met him at an open house a couple of weeks ago, he helpfully sent me more listings, and then I saw him again this past weekend a couple of times. I think he could really be significant . . . to my apartment search. Not a romantic interest, unless you consider it a romance with myself and a new corner of the city (for me). Really though, it has all the makings of a good relationship; he's attentive, thoughtful, helpful, gainfully employed, financially stable, it's really only the wife and kids getting in the way. I'm totally kidding here by the way. He is a rare find though, in that you get the feeling that he actually has your best real estate related interests at heart, and wants to find the best fit for you and not just make a sale. So apartment-hunting is my new love. For now. Then I'll get a dog.

And the hits just keep on coming

Should I go in chronological order of the weekend or in order of importance? I think the latter.

So Adam and I met for dinner on Friday before heading to a movie. We got seated in a mafia table, you know, where if you sit in the corner you can see the whole room? The place settings were laid out kitty-corner to one another, but Adam made to sit across from me. I suggested it might be better to take the seat on the (L-shaped) both next to me. I thought that was good on my part, to encourage the closeness. Now usually I am not okay with couples sitting on the same side of the table, but we were kitty-corner, you know, seated on consecutive sides of the table, so it's not the same. He called me beautiful, which was sweet, and we talked as easily as we normally do, except for when he was convinced our onion strings were french fries. But there was no hand-holding or thigh-grazing or anything. Okay, so off to the movie.

We saw Sherlock Holmes, which if you haven't seen I definitely recommend it, and we both like previews, so if that's not enough to start a relationship on I just don't know what is. I tried to take advantage of the common armrest, but his stayed crossed the entire movie, so nothing-doing. I decided after that night that on Sunday morning after volunteering I'd have to tell him I just see us as friends. I never got that chance, as he said he had errands to run afterwards and we went our separate ways. I think we've lost that loving feeling. Which is fine. I can't make myself be attracted to him, as much as I would like to be. He is a great guy though, and if anyone ever asked me if I know any in New York, his name would be at the top of the list. I have Adam to thank for making me recognize the kind of admiration I deserve, and as I've waited 27 years for it, I guess a few (please God not more than that! ;o) ) more won't kill me.

Now, as for facebook-blast-from-the-past-to-be-known-as-Sam, it is a weird tale. So Annie, being optimistic for me, suggested that perhaps he was a stud and that I'd be spending more time in the suburbs (I am loosely defining suburbs to include the majority of the tri-state area). This could not be farther from the truth. A chubby kid in high school (it takes one to know one), Sam is now on the emaciated side of thin. He still has the same ferocious-looking acne though. And when I saw him from across the street, I thought "No, that can't possibly be him. Really?" He looked like he was still wet from a shower, which turned out to be the hair gel he was using to try to tame down his formerly curly and now possibly thinning hair. I know you probably think I am being mean, but really I am being as accurate as I can be. Maybe that's the mean part? But we're not done. He was also wearing pants two inches too short. And was limping. I kid you not. So, we had lunch at a diner where we talked about high school, him with an astonishing command of the most minute of details. When we parted, he said that we should definitely get together before another ten years passed us by. I just smiled and nodded.

Thursday Shorts

Quick updates:

No JR. As predicted, he flaked. Not a big loss, and the longer we go the less I miss it. Or so I try to believe.

As for Adam, we're going out tomorrow for dinner and a movie, and I promise I will do my best to be a little more forward and/or encouraging. He's also coming to a volunteering thing I'm going to on Sunday, so I reeeaaally hope Friday isn't awkward.

Someone may have fallen in facebook love with me. I had never heard of it either until Annie told me it had happened to a couple of people she knows; they had lost touch with people from high school or earlier, who then later found them on facebook, found them attractive, and found themselves in networking website love. This is a guy I've known since 7th grade from being music dorks. We were not particularly close, but went to a movie with two other kids once, and apparently this has stuck with him. We didn't talk all through college or after (and I didn't miss it) until he found me on facebook and realized we live a few hours from each other. This, apparently, is reason enough to get together. I know this is scanty evidence for fb love, but i can't tell you the whole story without you thinking less of me than you already do. Anyway, he's going to be in the city this weekend, so I decided I should bite the bullet and have lunch with him with the hope that it will fend off any more ridiculous requests to meet up in the land where public transportation doesn't go.

I may have volunteered to participate in a date auction, and not as a bidder. Has anyone ever done one of these before? I find it a little scary and imagine it will be more than a little humiliating. But, I figure, what the hell? I'll keep you posted.

Return of JR

Just a quick note: Over the Christmas holiday, which I spent with family and which was very restful and enjoyable, I was contacted twice by JR. He called on my way to my parents, but I was in the quiet car of the train and didn't pick up, and then he texted on Christmas Day. Both times very solicitous, and both with a request that we get together once I was back in the city. I emailed once I got back as a courtesy, and we are supposed to meet up "later this week". As tomorrow is Thursday and I've had no word, I'm not sure we'll actually see anything of one another. I'm not sure that I'm interested anyway though, so that works out. How are you supposed to treat a friend who may or may not know that he's hurt you, and that you're not sure that hanging out with him is a good idea? I've embarrassed myself too many times with him making outlandish emotional declarations, thus am not willing to come out and say just that. I don't want to give him the satisfaction of being that significant if he hasn't already realized it. I'm mature, I know. Can I just let it go?

Release My Inhibitions?

Hello again! I hope you all had a delightful holiday, and are embarking on a wonderful new year! Over Christmas my roommate reminded me of the promises I had initially made to myself at the conception of this blog, you know, to try one of those “tried and true ways to meet someone” every couple of weeks or once a month or so, and obviously I haven’t really done that. Although, I guess I am currently sort of seeing someone who used to be a casual acquaintance; was that on the list? Did I tell you that Adam definitely is interested in me? Well he is, and I told him I was undecided about dating him, and then he didn’t kiss me. This is the short, Reader’s Digest version. Those things didn’t all happen on the same day, let alone the same breath.

The first was revealed a couple of weeks ago after we went to dinner and a play, and he insisted on riding with me to my stop and seeing me to my apartment. Did I mention that it was freezing cold with an icy wind to boot and that he walked home? On our way to my door, he said some really complimentary things and was very awkwardly adorable, and I kissed him on the cheek and we said goodnight. I know I know, maybe a little harsh, but up to that point I wasn’t completely sure what his intentions were and so wasn’t mentally prepped for anything else. Later that week I suggested we go to dinner somewhere a little closer to home (we live in very close neighborhoods), assuming that maybe we would go back to one apartment or the other to get over the first kiss hurdle . . . nothing more than that, so get your minds out of the gutter. I’m self-conscious, he’s shy, so I figured that some place away from the public eye might be better for us. And then he picked Wednesday. What was I supposed to do with Wednesday? We went to dinner, and I helped him pick out some presents, but then I legitimately had things to do at home and could not go back to his place. That night was when he point-blank asked me if I was interested in him and I said I was undecided. Since nothing happened that night, I assumed that when he came over to my apartment to give me a Christmas present (super-sweet, I know!) we’d finally make it to first base. Nope. He didn’t kiss me. I lingered for a bit when we were saying goodbye, tried to give him the opportunity, but he didn’t take it. Now, this may be my fault for saying I was undecided, and he’s a gentleman and didn’t want to presume anything. But how am I supposed to decide without a little bit of help? Make the first move? Unacceptable. I am nearly as shy and awkward as he is, and have never made the first physical move. Sure, I have embarrassingly asked a guy out here and there, but that is not the same thing. I don’t know how to be smooth going for the first kiss. That’s not in my repertoire.

Obviously, I am about as good at this as one might expect an ex-chubby-choir-and-academic-team member to be. Any tips to get over yourself and make the first move? I was thinking next time I see him maybe just to greet him with a kiss, get things out of the way. But that might backfire on me, I don't know. Maybe I should just cruise bars and try to kiss people, that way when it really matters I won't be so neurotic about it. That's a practical idea I think. Totally, completely jives with who I am. My mother would be all for it. Love her, I really do, and I should probably try to be more like her when it comes to being completely self-assured and un-self-conscious when it comes to doing potentially stupid things in public. Perhaps it would be freeing. Something needs to change, it is a new year after all . . .