Bad Date Hostage

So I did go back online. Briefly. In some ways the diversion did disperse some of my anxious/anticipatory dating energy as I'd hoped, but in other ways, it really did just multiply it. Apparently, there is no cure for dating angst.

The response I got was interesting. I think my sassy lead photo attracted something different. And I had toned down my profile a little, not feeling like I had anything to prove this time around. I got an interesting mix of more artsy guys, rather than just athletic and outdoorsy. But also, apparently I still attract the guys who are just slightly off for some reason or another - which still seems like the majority who have ever contacted me. Lovely.

I agreed to a date with a cute Britpop obsessed hipster who was really engaging over email. As I approached the great little dive bar where we were meeting, I yet again barely survived that excruciatingly painful point just before the threshold of entering a blind date. I bribed/coerced/comforted myself saying, "if nothing else, at least you'll have something to blog about". And I remembered that the anticipation is by far the worst part of any first date (or so I thought).

But you know when you know within the first 2 minutes that this isn't it?! Not even close. Perhaps as a writer, he was better in writing. Nice enough, but speaking a different language in person. Not a kindred spirit after all.

Realizing this, I tried to convince myself that he was still fun and interesting, and I could enjoy his company for an evening. Unfortunately, it became more and more painful as struggled internally with why I couldn't just leave... all while I went on making forced pleasant conversation. (Where is the Sass when I need it?!) Somehow my drink got on his tab, so I felt like I had to ride it out until the natural end. I texted a friend when he went to the bathroom, seriously considering initiating the "call me with an emergency" extraction protocol. But no such luck.

I just didn't have the words to let him down gracefully, especially when I obviously hadn't given him much of a chance. And in the back of my mind, I'm thinking you never know what kind of weirdo he might become when provoked. Or maybe I wasn't willing to make things uncomfortable by doing anything other than what was expected of me. I figured it was much easier to email him later and tell him I'd met someone else. I mean, I'm big on integrity, but isn't that the kind thing to do?

So I was held hostage for two hours by my own niceness (or perhaps cowardice). Then, I made things even worse by agreeing to go out with him again. And somehow I wasn't fast enough to avoid his lips flying at me. Really, he thought we were having that much fun?! Ahhhh!

I did send him a very nice email a few days later. I explained at length that I was sorry for the abrupt change in course, but someone else had shown up who I felt the need to focus on (which lucky for me turned out to actually be true). He replied that he was disappointed, but appreciated my honesty. So my conscience was let off the hook. In the meantime, I swore off online dating forEVER. I'm so glad it works for some people, but I cannot handle any more of it. Dear lord.

If you do choose to bravely enter this dangerous land, here is your only chance for survival: always buy your own drink, pay cash, and have an extraction plan on speed dial!

Courtship in a Digital Age

Hypothetically speaking: If you met a guy once and we haven't seen each other or spoken since, but he has commented on several of your Facebook statuses... does that mean he likes you?

The Sass

So I got a sassy new hair cut...
And it seems to have gone to my head. Or I'm just doing really well with resolution #1 this year.

Things that the old "nice girl" filter used to catch are instead flying out of my mouth.

First, I opened my big mouth at work when I experienced more of the completely predictable yet totally surprising antics of parents (wanting me to help them bend the rules). I was outraged by the repeat offense of a particular family who never think the rules apply to them. So I shot my mouth off in a classic unprofessional manner, telling anyone who would listen, including everyone in charge. As if I am a paragon of virtue. I immediately regretted it once I calmed down a little.

Then, in the everyday tangle of normal group social dynamics, I made a poorly executed attempt to bring things out into the open after a few of us had been comparing notes about feeling left out. I waltzed over to a group of coworker-friends and said, "Just so you know, we have a bet that you four will sit together at these meetings." (i.e., nice job being exclusive). Which was overstating the level of discussion that had gone on about where they did or did not sit and who they included or not, and I felt awful as soon as the words flew out of my mouth. Of course, they were taken aback and mildly defensive.

Later, after enduring the entire meeting with my heart sliding down to my feet, I went back over, formally apologized, and tried to compliment them with a Sex and the City comparison. It seemed to help clear the air a little, but I still felt awkward.

Then, a relatively new coworker who had been slow to warm to us all was telling me a story about a frustratingly stand-offish parent. My coworker explained how she thought it was so unnecessary that this parent responded in a put-off manner when she was trying to make friendly conversation about their mutual love for their cute little dogs. And I looked straight at my coworker and just had to say, "It is so funny that you're telling that story because that was exactly my experience of you!"

I couldn't help it. It was the truth just hanging there in the air between us! Luckily, she took it relatively well.

Finally, I walked in late to a volunteer project with a few people I know well, but many I don't know at all, and practically immediately, details about my underwear come shooting out of my mouth. (For some reason, I was telling them about my friend who thinks I am still single because I don't wear a thong. To which, btw, I insist that I find lovely pieces that are both attractive and functional. Tyvm.) I think later I also announced how much money I make (or don't make)...

Breaking free? Or falling apart. We'll have to see.

Hazards of Being Single

Have you seen the episode of 30 Rock when Jack tells Liz that he thinks a single woman's biggest fear should be choking to death alone in her apartment? [Cut to Liz trying to give herself the Heimlich while choking on her dinner that night...]

I'm afraid they might have a valid point. Especially since people are used to me falling off the face of the earth for days at a time. It could be a long time before anyone comes looking for my body.

I began seriously wondering about this last week when I got a bad flu bug. I became pretty weak and out of it, and I wondered what would happen if it got much worse. I wished I had someone to keep an eye on me, and wondered what it would be like to have someone to bring me my clear liquids or go buy saltines. Whether I would actually let anyone take care of me much is another issue, but in my illness induced delirium, it felt unfair that I was being deprived of the option.

I also wonder if lack of access to built in care-taking could also prolong illness. I'm willing to bet that you recover faster if you are less taxed in caring for yourself. Although I suppose it depends on how willingly and patiently your caretaker does their job. If nothing else, if there is someone else around, isn't the return to normalcy easier? I can lay around for days beyond when I really still need to if there is no accountability.

So there you have it. My new theory on actual health hazards of being single. So much for the merits of being an independent woman. Or maybe I don't need a partner, I just need a good roommate...

But the real point is that I am kind of hoping I have found the mysterious answer to why I get sick so often and stay sick for so long. Do you think that is too big of a leap? I also happen to blame not being able to get up on time in the morning on being single, as well. (Come on, it is so much easier to get up when someone you are happy to see in the morning is getting up too.)

But I have vowed not to blame my problems on men, or my lack there of. So, I'm going to stop there.

Eggs in One Basket

I met someone interesting. ("Facebook me" is the new "can I have your number", btw.)

Immediately the familiar old "did he like me?" and "what do I do now?!" neurosis set in. And I'm really tired of putting myself through all that. So my thought is, #1, chill out and try to enjoy the ride, lady. (Ha. Good luck with that.) And #2, why not disperse anxious energy by focusing on more than one person at a time? Put some eggs in other baskets, so to speak, hoping that wouldn't just multiply the angst, which is entirely possible.

Long story short, since there are currently no other eggs or baskets, I thought of going back online.

I signed back into match.com to at least take a look. I started halfheartedly reading profiles. I spruced and pruned my profile from over a year ago in case I actually decide to make it public again. I considered how to proceed. But I HATE it. It is so much work for so little return.

At first glance, everyone seems to be 5'4'' or 6'6''. And/or they are either a complete jerk or trying way too hard; I don't need to see you with your shirt off ten years ago or standing between hot cleavage twins. And we all pretty much have the same profile... have a good life but looking for someone to share it with, like to go hiking/camping, listen to music, eat sushi, travel, or just read/cuddle by the fire ("cuddle by the fire" is the new "long walks on the beach").

Why am I so cynical? I think that when I was online before, I was usually going through some sort of phase (triathlons, fly fishing, climbing, etc.) which made it exciting to look for that specific connection. But at the moment, I am comfortable with my own mediocrity in all of those activities and am looking for good old chemistry. Which is impossible to measure on a flat screen.

I'm considering it, but currently resistant to say the least. I think I just want to hang out with the one I already met. We'll see.