What's good for the goose may not be good for the other goose. Or something like that.

Hi there folks!

I was talking with a friend who I hadn't had a good chat with since around the time of my last post or maybe before, which is to say that it had been far too long. She is one of the few actual followers of the blog, and as any good friend would do, took me to task for leaving her hanging so long. She proposed a happy circumstance: that perhaps I was so consumed spending time with my newly discovered Mr. Wonderful that I hadn't the time between exciting, meaningful sex and romantic, delicious meals to update my faithful readers. Sadly friends, that was not the case. Until today, I had not been on a date since December, which I'm pretty sure I told you about (though I'll check just to be sure.)

So, "How did it go?", I imagine you wonder, or I would wonder why you bother to read this. I'll get to that, but let me tell you how the date came about in the first place. My mom, as you may remember, is an avid promoter of my love life. Really, if Times Square would allow her to rent a billboard, she would do it, and it would have my vital statistics, zodiac sign and phone number on it. As per her contract, when she heard that Jane, a high school friend, was moving back to the city to teach/research at a prestigious university, she informed me of the potential dating mine this might open up. Math geeks and post-docs and profs, oh my! Anyway, I relayed my mother's scheme to Jane so that she could start to keeping her eyes peeled, she in turn relayed it to her fiance over the phone while in her office, and her officemate obligingly offered up an unsuspecting friend. Who needs facebook when you've got networking skills like these! Actually, Jane did, since she had to proffer evidence in answer to the officemate's first question: "Is she hot?" Apparently, I passed muster. Jane got to see a picture of the friend, and deemed him worthy as well. And we were off to the races.

Well, to the recently gentrified uptown neighborhood.

Jane had given me the guy's email and phone number. Not wanting to seem too forward, I emailed Jake and introduced myself, which was kind of awkward since I wasn't exactly sure what he had heard. Anyway, he emailed me back, seemed nice, so we made plans to meet up in Harlem for a drink. Too bad it was one of the hottest days of the year. It's hard to pick out an outfit when your major concern is what will hide your back sweat best. Well, we met, he was attractive and interesting, and the conversation was easy and fun. Jake is a guy who talks about his family both lovingly and with some deprecating humor, which I appreciate, and talks about his job with enthusiasm but not too seriously. He likes to travel and is ready with a bag at work every Friday in case he finds a cheap fare somewhere. This was all appealing to me. Except, at one point I mistakenly calculated that he is younger than me by a couple of years, and almost instantaneously I thought he would be perfect for my younger sister. After that, there was no saving it. All I could picture was how cute they'd be together, and it was impossible to replace her person with my own.

That's the problem; Jake's exactly the kind of guy you'd want your sister to date. He's a decent, caring, employed, good-looking, polite, seemingly responsible, dog-loving guy. He and I just didn't have any "pop", you know? And since it's been almost two weeks since we met and I haven't heard from him, apparently he felt the same way. Now, I can't truly say whether he and my sister would either, but that matters less to me ;o). As long as she's with a good guy, I'd rather she not have drama. The only thing I worry about with my sister is that sometimes she can be a little rigid, so I want a guy who would push her to loosen up, go crazy once in awhile (and not in a type-A personality kind of a way). I think Jake would do that. Noe the only question is, how do you ask a guy you went out with if maybe he'd rather date your sister?

Anybody?

So, We Meet Again

Hi friends (since you are the only ones who read this.)

I'm beginning to think this idea of having a meaningful relationship by the time I'm 30 may have been ridiculous. As I've gotten pretty much nowhere. Don't get me wrong, I've had some fun along the way, but as for achieving anything in the romantic realm of my life, not so much.

I chatted up the really cute guy at the dog park the other day, but he and his fiancee are moving to City Island, so that's not going to work. "Plenty of fish" has not netted me anything, and I tried to write a profile for match.com but I timed out of the session and they erased every carefully crafted word. Only those who agonize over their online profile personas would understand how demoralizing it is to spend (let's not embarrass me by actually stating the length of time) awhile putting together what you think are the most witty, sparkling, fresh, enticing, attractive, engaging and true enough tidbits about yourself, pieces of information you hope will be accepted and appreciated by others, into the perfect 500 word summary, only to have it disappear without warning as you move on to select your best, I-only-look-like-I'm-not-trying-hard picture. Honestly, I'm kind of tired of trying. Maybe eHarmony still has my old profile information and I wouldn't have to spend any time making up a new one. Or maybe one of you wants to write it for me? What do you think? eHarmony seems also to have sensed my, not exactly desperation, but my sense of not knowing where else to turn, as they've recently emailed me an offer on a 3-month membership.

I'm just not sure I want to do that again. Sure, it's fun in that it's kind of like online shopping, and sometimes what you've put in your cart takes you out for a dinner or two, but then what if nothing comes of it? It'll be even more proof that my profile-writing isn't perfect, and that's just one more thing to be insecure about.

A Pre-Valentine's Day Update

Hi.

So, shortly after my last post, I went out with a guy who was perfect for me. He was a coworker of my coworker's husband, so he was well vetted. He's tall, good-looking, plays softball, is the right age for me, is a responsible adult, a really nice guy, smart, basically the whole package. We went to a great little tapas/wine bar/inoteca type place in midtown, had large glasses of tasty wine and small plates of delicious foods. The conversation flowed easily and we had a lot in common. But. You knew it was coming. There wasn't exactly a spark. You know the one. We laughed and got along well, but there was no teasing, flirty slant to the night. He was a total gentleman and I would have gone on a second date since it seemed wasteful to dismiss such a great guy so quickly, but I never got the chance. The next day I texted him just to say thanks for a nice night. He emailed me back later that day and said he got more of a friends vibe from the evening. I was floored. Not because I didn't feel the same way, but because I didn't expect him to put it out there so truthfully and bluntly. I don't mean that he was rude or anything, in fact he was very complimentary for the first part of the email, I just don't know that I have ever had such an honest end to a (can I call it a relationship if it was just one date? Well, for lack of a better word . . . ) relationship. Is this how adults behave? Cool.

Right now, the only man in my life is my dog. So far we have been unsuccessful at meeting single, age- and situation- appropriate men at the dog run. It is difficult to look alluring with a bag of poop in your hand. And while he is a bit of a cuddlebug, I doubt the dog will be buying me chocolates or flowers this Valentine's Day. What a wonder if he could!

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.