It's either fizzle or sizzle, fo' shizzle

originally posted Sunday, October 30

Ugh. I just had a very pleasant and slightly awkward date. Here's the pleasant:

JM made me dinner at his place and we sat in the hot tub and talked until we were both so overheated we couldn't take it any more. Then we came inside and watched some South Park and a DVD.

Totally low key. Pretty nice, right? His place is great. Ridiculously large for one person and ultra clean thanks to maid service. His cooking was delicious and healthy too! He really does seem to have his shit together... and in an altogether well rounded way.

Now for the awkward:

I definitely felt affectionate toward him during parts of the evening... affectionate but somewhat tormented. He sat so far away from me in the hot tub! A little personal space is good... but too much conveys disdain. Finally, right before we got out... he managed to sidle up next to me... no touching, just next to me. That's OK... I think I was just hoping for a kiss at some point.

I have to admit I was flummoxed by his huge uber-home-theater leather sectional. Very nice... reclining and everything. Not exactly great for sitting next to someone though. After 120 minutes of contortion, I need to call my chiropractor! This after all the recent trauma to the hip… but at least he was next to me. He did hold my hand at one point, and even had an arm around me for a little bit.

Woo! Progress!

But everything was dashed at the end. I can't remember his exact words, but I totally felt dismissed. Of course that was plenty of activity for a date, but it was like "OK, ding, time's up...now get the hell out". I wasn't hoping to stay just wanted a more gracious exit. Oh well. THIS is why I'm doing the 100 First Dates.

I was totally disoriented when I left his house. Was it the potential rejection or just being overwhelmed by suburbia? I couldn't even drive my sorry ass home without a 15 mile detour through Volente. At least it's a pretty drive and I already had the top down. Morcheeba filling my ears with a reminder:

"I think you'll find...

Everybody loves a loser...

So you'll be fine...

...You won't be lonely long."

Are they singing about JM or me?

Date 89 - He's a Very Kinky Girl

originally posted Saturday, October 29, 2005

JM found me online and we starting chatting earlier this week. That's not my style, but lo and behold, he was actually interesting. Intelligent, irreverent, funny. He's college educated, a successful professional and he volunteers on a regular basis. We're actually the same age, which is a refreshing treat.

I talked on the phone with him using the *67 feature to cloak my true identity (being a super hero can really be a bitch sometimes). We were on the phone for an insanely long junior high school amount of time. If my mom was here, I would have been grounded. We were on the phone AND on the computer. Could it possibly have been more geeky? At least we were discussing art and I was able to find images of the obscure triptych that he claimed was his favorite work. We were also making fun of other online dating profiles and trying to figure out why our compatibility score wasn't higher since crazy churchy cat ladies were outranking me. (Turns out my height requirement screened him right out... poor baby.)

I was taking a break from dating this week since I'm pretty badly injured at the moment. Cortizone shot in the hip yesterday, and now in addition to the pain killers, I'm on steroids. I expect the next few posts to contain an unusual amount of anger as a result. I might issue a blanket challenge for arm wrestling too. Any takers?! Bring it on!!!!

I clearly wouldn't be attending any of the fabulous Halloween parties that were on my calendar this weekend, so when he twisted my arm to meet him for a drink it wasn't hard to agree. Curiosity was getting the better of both of us and I think we both looked forward to returning to our regularly scheduled programs.

We were supposed to meet at NXNW, but then his coworkers converged on the place and I got a somewhat frantic phone call asking for a change in venue... the Cheesecake Factory instead. (sigh) Parking would be a bitch, which meant walking which I'm not supposed to be doing... but I agreed. I prayed for parking and lucked out with a relatively close spot.

(After the date, my hell-phone finally sent me his voicemail asking me to just drive up to the restaurant so he could park my car for me. That was thoughtful... if only the hell-phone would have let me know earlier.)

I saw him as I was hobbling out of the car. Talking on his cell phone. I hoped my slow and limping approach would give him the requisite time to conclude his call. No luck. By the time I got to him, he was still yacking. (It should be noted that cell phones are my number 2 pet peeve -- after the new number 1 pet peeve of being humiliated into paying for my own putt-putt.)

He wrapped up his call and shook my hand. A hand shake. Not even a fully legitimate handshake...but a kind of sideways handshake. This did NOT bode well. He was actually his stated height of 5'10" - not as tall as I would like, but a respectable height and he was just as cute as his photos.

We went inside, and he graciously got us the closest available table in the bar to minimize my walking. We ordered some cocktails and my gaydar started to beep. Not loudly... but enough to warrant a raised eyebrow. I had a raspberry martini and he ordered a froo-froo drink too. It takes a secure man to admit he's a girl-drink-drunk, but as our conversation progressed there were other oddities too as he told me some funny stories from his college days. Given his other proclivities (some of which he revealed during our phone call) I was really not expecting this from him. He was increasingly reminding me of my friend Dave from high school who had a wicked crush on me during our college years and shortly thereafter announced he was gay.

He's an interesting guy with some great stories. He fancies himself Val Kilmer from the movie 'Real Genius'. There are some shades of "the snake" in him; he shares some of the same quirks. Because of that, part of me wants to run far, far away -- not likely given the current condition of the hip. The other part of me wants to give him a real chance. I had it bad for "the snake" and he was never worthy of it... but this guy doesn't seem as hollow. Although he does seem just a tad robotic, there doesn't appear to be a 'this space for rent' sign where his soul should be.

He's a bit hard to read and I wasn't sure he was enjoying himself. I was amazed he wanted to continue the date. We went to the adjacent bookstore and got a table in their little coffee area so we could people-watch and chat more: real estate, suburbia and commutes. Easy random conversation until we were both fading... I hobbled back to my car. He gave me a small quick hug and we went our separate ways.

Wide Open Spaces

originally posted Sunday, October 23, 2005

It was a very good weekend. I took Friday off work and enjoyed a perfect day. Top down on the car, dog next to me, sunshine on my face and wind in my hair. I headed north to Colorado Bend state park to camp out with some friends.

Blue skies and expansive vistas are tranquilizers for the suburbanite. We get so used to our narrow field of vision that just looking at some wide open spaces really is a balm for the soul.

We spent some time at the springs after arriving in the afternoon. Good company and great food marked the end of a great day. I snuggled diagonally into my two person tent (built for midgets), the one I haven't used since Woodstock '99. I exhaled. I was content and appreciative of just how well my life is turning out. Even the drunken teenagers stumbling through our campsite in the middle of the night didn't have much of an impact on my mood; although it should be noted that this is why I don't own a handgun since I was very near to becoming Yosemite Sam.

The morning was really brisk but we had a great little fire going and mimosas and migas met my morning appetite. We had a great long hike scampering over rocks and around waterfalls before winding up back at the springs. We lounged like lizards and enjoyed the sunshine and the extremely cold water.

I had a party to head to the same night back in Austin, so sadly, I needed to pack up and hit the road in the early evening. My compatriots were so kind and thoughtful that they packed me a delicious sandwich and cheesy snacks to munch on during the drive. So yummy!

The dog has never been so well loved, so content, or so exhausted. I fell in love with her all over again on this trip along with everyone else. She really is a good dog. Before I could even put the car in reverse she had her head upside down on the center console of the car and was fast approaching dreamland. She slept pretty much the entire way home and most of the following day. Sweet pup.

Date 90 - Dance with the one who brought you

originally posted Thursday, October 20, 2005

Two more first dates to go this week and I'm already exhausted. I'm headed downtown yet again to meet a random guy for drinks. Forget about my psyche, I'm not sure my liver is going to be able to handle 100 first dates!

Parking is a bitch... and on a Wednesday night too. I resort to my secret spot and walk the 5 blocks or so to Cedar Street. When D shows up he's much taller than I expected and I never would have been able to pick him out of a crowd based on his picture. He's fairly attractive and sports the ubiquitous goatee. If Danny Bonaducci was older and not as much of an a-hole, he'd look a lot like my date tonight.

We head downstairs to the bar and order up a couple of Shiners and then take a seat in the courtyard patio. It's a beautiful night. The weather is perfect. The Spazmatics are setting up on stage and punctuating our conversation with their sound check. Fine by me, since the conversation isn't really going anywhere anyway.

Within 5 minutes we figure out our one degree of separation. Austin IS such a small town. The Spazmatics are about to take the stage in a few minutes and make conversation completely impossible, so we head over to Six Lounge. I've been meaning to check this place out but hadn't gotten around to it.

It's really not that impressive. Lots of big projection screens and ottomans. Not alot of atmosphere. I guess it's to be expected since it's run by Austin's cycling elite. I think they would have done better to have left it as it was in its previous incarnation and just add on the rooftop bar. We head up to check out the view. The Astros are winning. D heads to the bar to get us another round and a striped shirt wearing hottie moseys up to me to chat as I look over the railing. I know it's bad form, but I'm instantly wishing I was out with this guy instead. He's my age and he's hot. He's also from out of town, but I won't hold that against him.

The next 15 minutes are spent offering up insider's tips to Austin on the hot guy's request. I swear the chamber of commerce should be giving me a commission or something. I'm making an effort to include D in the conversation and forcibly directing my body language towards him so he knows I'm still with him... damn these manners! The hot guy is very cordial and although he's unwilling to give up our conversation, he does buy D another beer (he's outpacing me 2 to 1 so far). D is being very patient but I'm still wondering what the hot guy thinks.

We pull ourselves away and walk back to my secluded parking spot. I left the top down tonight. Not the smartest move, but thankfully the car is still there. D is chatty and affectionate. He seems like a nice guy, but he's clearly developed more of an attachment than I have. He's the perfect height though and he dances... I can't throw this fish back in the water just yet. I agree to a second date and he's already teasing that it won't be soon enough.

Go for it - or just go!

originally posted Sunday, October 16, 2005

After much deliberation on his part, I received an awkward hug the other night at the end of a date. I'm not sure a smooch was warranted, so I'm not complaining. However, if you're not gonna go for the smooch, sometimes everyone is better off if you just GO!

We had a lovely evening. Why spoil it with awkwardness at the end? There's no need for a big finish or jazz hands. Just make the clean break, take a lesson from the standup comics and just say, "Thanks and goodnight"!

Date 91 - The Pulitz-Surprise

My immediate impression as I drive by S is that he looks stiff and uncomfortable. Who could blame him?

I called ahead to let him know I was going to be about 10 minutes late and he's dutifully standing at the entrance to Opal Devine's. My catholic heritage kicks in and I feel guilty, but I'm glad he was thoughtful enough to wait for me like that; it was a nice thing to do.

I forgot how bad parking is on this part of 6th street now that the giant Whole Foods uber store has been built. I drive around the block and eventually find a metered spot. I'm ultra casual in jeans, a Henley top and some loafers since it's just Opal Devine's. It must be a good look though, since I've gotten several looks from men as I'm walking around the
corner to the entrance.

S is slim and nicely dressed in a polo shirt and chinos, well groomed and well mannered. I feel a tad underdressed. He's about as tall as advertised at 6' but I'm still glad I opted against any shoe with a heel. He looks about 15 years younger than he is -- I'm wondering if his maturity level is equivalent to his physical age. We opt for a table outside and are ushered to the nether regions of the deck, which is fine by me since we'll have fewer people eavesdropping. After about 3 1/2 minutes, it becomes clear that S has "the babylust". We're onto the checklist; the interview has begun.

As an aside, the babylust has always freaked me out. It seems much more prevalent in women than men, but it's almost freakier in men... maybe because it tends to hit them later in life and then they wind up with much younger women. A good friend of mine has it and I'm convinced he won't have a good match until he gets over it. Age is not insurmountable, but with a richly textured and complicated personality like he has, it's certainly a hurdle. Superficial girls are not his type and yet he's insistent on only dating women "as old as" their early 30's. He wants them ripe for the plucking. [insert rim shot here] Talking about it with him always makes me feel like a dried up prune at the ancient age of 32. ...but I digress, back to the date!

I sip on my table-slappingly-tart "Pinky Friedman" cocktail and expound on my child bearing (or possibly non bearing) philosophy to S. For a man with the babylust he seems to take it in stride. I even ask him some questions about his motivation and experience in the baby department and he seems to take it like a champ. I want to be thought of as a woman, not a womb! It really doesn't and shouldn't matter on a first date, but by not taking offense he has earned himself some points.

Thankfully there are some conversational tangents as a reprieve from "the interview" and he is freakily able to guess the name of the tiny college I went to, just by knowing the state and city. Is he a stalker? No, he's actually visited the town and campus - which I guess isn't so surprising given the historical and architectural significance of the place, but it's not someplace
most people know about.

The conversation continues about nothing in particular and he's antsy to move to another venue. I guess I passed phase 1 of the interview process. The full moon had come up in previous conversation and as we're walking over to Malaga on 4th, I point it out to him. He steps back to get a view, jokingly howls and seizes the opportunity to plant one on me. It's a little soon for my taste, but I'm willing to roll with it and aside from his overextended mouth during his attack, it's not unpleasant. (I suppose I tend to like smaller kisses.)

We have some delectable olives and bread to help cleanse the tartness from my palette and enjoy a most excellent glass of Spanish wine thanks to the recommendation of our attentive hostess. Things are progressing nicely and S is easy enough to talk to. I'm having a good time, although as the evening continues, I'm less and less impressed by him. He's in his mid 40's and is working in technology sales? He's living with roommates? It took him HOW many years to finish his degree? Hmmmm..... not so much. He seems pretty intelligent and well rounded. I love that he has some varied interests like filmmaking and rock-climbing... but it just doesn't have the same sheen in this light as it did before I knew some of the more mundane details of his life.

Maybe my face shows this. As we continue talking, he mentions a certain woman he used to date. He mentions that she's a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist. I jokingly say, "Oh, I'll bet I know her, what's her name?" He tells me it's not likely that I'd know her since she moved to California. "Oh really, where did she move to?" He tells me the city and I exclaim, "Oh, yes! M_____!!" and watch all the color immediately drain from his face. M is one of the fantastically talented and brilliant women from the book club I've attended for a few years now. I don't actually know her all that well, and she might not be able to pick me out of a lineup but we've shared some great books and provocative conversation.

He backpedals a bit and tells me it was really pretty platonic... and I'm wondering if he's embarrassed about dating her or if he treated her poorly.
When I briefed a confidant about it today, he suspected that S might not have dated her at all. Men! Who can tell? He tries to soldier through the rest of the conversation but a few moments later excuses himself and when he returns he's a bundle of nervous energy, twitching legs and all.

Things maintained a certain level of levity, but it feels like it was all down hill from there. And yet, as he's walking me back to my car he's confidently and snugly holding my hand. He seizes the opportunity to land another smooch and is talking about feeling like he made a real connection. I certainly enjoyed myself, and he is attractive but I'm not feeling particularly connected at all at this point... in fact I was still really evaluating things... and maybe I still am.

Date 92 - An object lesson in how not to be

originally posted Saturday, October 15, 2005

After about a month of scheduling difficulties, I finally met C. for coffee last night. He was a fairly attractive guy but was grayer, shorter and heavier than advertised... and fairly unpleasant to boot.

I'm not sure if he was disappointed in my appearance, nervous or intimidated, but I now FULLY understand the importance of being mentally ready to date. There's a certain psyching up that one has to go through to get in the game. He had clearly not done that. I'm actually wondering if I've put other people through this same grudging experience myself; I truly hope not.

From a glance, he looked well adjusted and normal enough, but whatever he's been through in life (I'm guessing his last relationship) had taken its toll on him. He seemed hollow. It didn't matter what the topic of conversation was. This guy was determined to be down on himself - he found a way to spin everything into a kamikaze death spiral and was hell bent on returning to any previous topic of conversation (tangents be damned!) in order to wring the last drop of life from it, dig a hole and bury it.

What I couldn't figure out was why I continued to try to coax him out of his shell. His body language was screaming defense and yet I continued to throw him compliments in our conversation and try to build up his confidence like a kindergarten teacher rooting for him to learn his ABC's. I'm not sure if I wanted him to like me or just to like himself a little more.

Thank god I had a second date with T lined up for later in the evening. The stench of a crappy date like this can linger for days like bad seafood, so at least my pending second date with T would function as a squeeze of lemon juice and counteract the pungent aroma of Negative Man still clinging to my aura.

Date 93 - You Don't Have To Live Like a Refugee

originally posted Wednesday, October 12, 2005

Well, I knew I was going to have to get back on the horse some time.
Now seemed as good a time as any. These 100 men aren't just going to date themselves. I've got to get out there and check them off my list!

I didn't figure #93 would be much of a love connection, but I expected it would be a good solid date to get me back in the game. It was tough though. Although I had been appreciative of the solitude since kicking J to the curb, I guess I wasn't prepared for the post traumatic stress that would follow. I was starting to feel a little gun shy. Was I just setting myself up for more disappointment here? It's hard to get psyched up about dating when you've endured more than your fair share of jacki (that's the plural of jackass in case you were wondering).

I was wiped out before the date even started. Slept late and even missed my morning aerobics class, which is out of character for me. I rested up though and I managed to pull myself together in a snappy but casual outfit. Shoal Creek Saloon is a nice laid back Austin place, but I still wanted to make an impression. It might have been more important for me than for him since women tend to dress for other women. Anyway, despite my passive aggression I even arrived on time!

I had faith that T would be tall, which was great since I didn't have to worry about drudging up some flat-flatty-flat-flatts in hopes of diminishing my borderline Amazonian appearance. In fact, although he claims 6'3" I think this may be the first case I've seen of a man who underestimates his height. Either my karma is finally starting to pay off or I'm just starting to judge height in internet units. He was pleasantly tall, nicely dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, and well mannered. How lucky can a girl get?

We walked out to the back patio to get better acquainted.

He's recently relocated from New Orleans and has only been in Austin for a few weeks. Still, he's landed on his feet pretty well. He’s gainfully employed in his field and is already getting his bearings around town. He doesn't yet seem to understand how far away he is from everything since he lives out near the lake but the joy of Austin traffic will soon take its toll, I'm sure. His disposition is sunny -- I cannot imagine being in his position and not only being so cheerful, but able to throw myself into internet dating on top of it all!

It was a nice pleasant conversation and he seemed effortlessly thoughtful. 'Is the sun in your eyes? Here let me sit there since I've got sunglasses.' Nice, but not a push over. I left him for my evening plans before the LSU game started on tv. I thanked him for the drink and coming out to meet me and hoped he'd make some new pals with the other alumni that converged on the place. I walked away and somehow stifled the urge to look back.

Another One Bites the Dust

originally posted Sunday, October 09, 2005

All good things must come to an end... and sometimes not so good things too.

Things had been progressing steadily with J. I was having a nice time. Being with him was fun. I loved the totally random conversations that would keep us up way past any normal bedtime. There was plenty of laughter and affection, on both parts. I wasn't analyzing things -- there was no need to -- I was just enjoying myself.

There were regular phone calls at the end of the work day to see how I was. There were roses. There were chocolates. There was an invitation for a weekend away at a quaint little town not far from Austin.

I had cut the others loose and was questioning the rationale behind continuing the 100 first dates since this was progressing so well but there were some red flags. I got an occasional vibe of instability on his part... something I couldn't quite put my finger on ... it was slightly ... manic. I resolved to make a note of it, but not over think things. Perhaps he was just intense. I can deal with intense.

Austin City Limits was coming up. I had a feeling we were going to be festival incompatible. ACL was a three day 108 degree endurance test this year, somewhat complicated by a near miss with Hurricane Rita. I was in for all three days. He was out, but had a friend who gifted him with a ticket and so we met up on Saturday. At least for a brief time. His A.D.D. kicked in around sunset and I got stuck babysitting his friend for a good 45 minutes before eventually departing and going my own way. The next night we reconnected and mended fences over the miscommunication / misunderstanding, but it was not for long.

The following Tuesday night he'd cajoled me into coming over to his place after he flew back from his day trip. I let him guilt me into it. That was my fault, but sometimes you've got to take one for the team. It was a shitty day. I was still exhausted from the festival and a late night with my friend Courtney the night before. I was beginning to suspect I had a sinus infection from inhaling several pounds of dirt and dust at the festival; my doctor concurred and I had a one-on-one meeting with a high level manager at work that did NOT go well. I told myself it would be nice to see him. I was warmly anticipating the nice hug he'd give me when I showed up at his place and settling into bed to sleep.

I arrive. Ding dong. He answers the door.

Naked.

I make some remark about good thing I'm not the pizza guy. He acts like it's no big deal. It takes me a good 2.5 seconds to realize he's drunk. Not drunk like "I've knocked back a few too many beers after work" but drunk as in "I smell like a brewery and remaining vertical is requiring the majority of my faculties".

Drunk as a skunk. Full on shitty-drunk. He's whining about my unavailability the previous night and asking me to rub ointment on his new tattoo. He's dramatically drunk, as in "No one understands me and everything that I've accomplished in my life." He's in my face and slurring. He's slightly menacing -- he probably doesn't realize that, but he's so out of control, I'm a little frightened.

He's maintaining that he's NOT drunk, because afterall, he drove himself home! (In that condition I'm surprised there's not a trail of dead leading up to his doorstep.) I try to maintain a distance and give him some room to gesticulate. He wants to know why I don't seem overjoyed to see him. I tell him I'm tired.

He's ordered pizza and wants me to have some with him. It's late and that's the last thing I need. No, scratch that -- dealing with a drunken jackass on a Tuesday night when I'm physically exhausted and don't feel well is the last thing I need; pizza doesn't even register comparatively. He tells me I can just go upstairs to bed if I like; he'll join me later. I am exhausted, but that doesn't matter... the thought of having him next to me is revolting right now. I thank him, but tell him that I'm going to go home. He's pouting, he's petulant. He's SO OVER but hasn't yet gotten the memo nor a clue.

I'm in my car and proud. Glad to have made a good decision that's good for me. I’m slightly sad that what looked to be a budding relationship bore no fruit, but happy to have avoided the addition of unnecessary chaos to my life.

I suppose the 100 First Dates will resume, but for now I want to savor a bit of solitude. Having a near miss with a character such as this makes one appreciate solitude all the more.

The following day he emails apologies. He leaves voicemail. He says he's not sure what happened last night; he only remembers that I was over and that I left. He's embarrassed that he had so much to drink. Eventually he claims to be mortified that he had driven in his condition. I call him back. He rinses and repeats. I struggle for a moment to find the words.

I don't want to engage him in dialogue about this. It's not really a problem to be fixed or discussed. Finally I settle on thanking him for the apology and "I just don't think this is going to work." His reply: "Ok, bye."

That was easy.

He could have been a contender...

originally posted Tuesday, October 04, 2005

...but based on newly instituted guidelines he's now the latest statistic in my catch and release program.

A is a great guy. I really liked him. He has it together. I was naturally comfortable with him and really enjoyed his company. For the love of god, he was even tall!

...but when push came to shove, I just couldn't imagine going there with him. I could not risk having horrible bathtub scrubbing sex with him. That would do both of us a disservice.

I thought he got the clue on our third and final date. The vibe was just off. I was running hot and cold... but mostly cold. He was great though. The evening ended early and as he walked back to his truck after having escorted me to my front door, he even turned to say something cheesy and condescending, like "be good" or "stay out of trouble". Clearly, this was done AND done!

Nope.

Poor guy thought he did something wrong when he didn't hear from me again. Just another testament to what a good guy he is. Really. It hurt me to do it, but when he asked, I gave it to him straight and he took it like a man.

The Brush Off

Ah, the dreaded brush off....or how many licks DOES it take to get to the center of a "No way we're ever gonna have sex" tootsie pop?

Chemistry is a funny thing. It can sizzle. It can spark. It can even be ignited for a long, slow burn....so how long do you wait before you know if you've got it with someone or not? You've been going out. You've been having fun and laughing. You're feeling affectionate, but do you really want to GO THERE?

If I'm going to get through 100 First Dates, I can't invest too much time to find out. I'm going to institute a general rule of thumb of three strikes and you're out. This way neither my dates nor I invest too much. There's no opportunity for bitterness when you get cut loose after three dates.

Yes, I may be missing out on some opportunities for the slow burn, but this feels fairer. It hurts more when you've invested time and energy into something and nothing develops. I'm a bit sensitive about that since my wasted time with the Snake. Not bitter, but sensitive. We had the physical chemistry, but real substance never developed and he was never really interested in that anyway. Conversely, with the Bear I had substance, but no physical chemistry. It was quite possibly the worst sex I ever had. So bad, in fact, as it was happening I was contemplating the cleanliness of my bathtub and grout... and wishing I could get some Ajax and scrub it right then instead! Which is worse?

So, no more investment of time beyond three dates unless I feel that all systems are go. Yes, we've been going out. Yes, I like you. Yes, we've been having fun. Yes, you ARE just that into me. Yes, I feel affectionate, but the $64,000 question is:

Do I want to see you naked?

Date 94 - Truth in advertising?

originally posted Saturday, October 01, 2005

A is tall! He's actually as tall as he says he is! About 6' 2" - hooray!
But he's a bigg'un! His pictures must be 10 years old... He's a really big guy, which is fine, but unexpected.

He's a little sloppy with his shirt untucked, but otherwise, put together OK. Upon seeing me he tells me he's nervous. I'm flattered.
We settle down into a table and chit chat...

I'm way too chattery -- mainly due to my third caffeinated beverage of the day, which means I'm mainlining now and my reactor core may overload at any moment. Where are the dilithium crystals when you need them?! Damn it!

We have some good conversation. He calls me a brat several times and kids me about being older than him... at which point I ask him to call me Mrs. Robinson. Koo-koo-ka-choo! [Is that kinky?]

The coffee people are trying to close up shop so we move to our next venue and drive over to the Draft House on Burnet & Medical for a pitcher of hefeweisen. He stands in line while I grab a table. Already an efficient division of labor -- I'm liking this. Plus we're clowning from a distance which gives me a chance to do my retarded sign language routine. Good times!

All in all, a lovely evening.

Date 95 - Vertically challenged or Keep Your Feet on the Ground and Keep Reaching for the Stars!

J is from eHarmony, the most painful dating website in the known world. It's totally a pain in the ass. It takes 15 hours of cumulative back and forth smoke signals and note passing before you can directly communicate by email.

J and I had earned the grand prize of "open communication" way back in June but nothing ever happened. I figured he'd be too short for me and I'd be too fat for him to begin with, so no hurries, no worries.

I posted some birthday pics on my profile and he emailed to comment on them. A month later the stars and our schedules finally aligned for our first date.

J was attractive, nicely dressed and well groomed.
He was shorter than advertised, although I expected he would be. He claimed 5'9" but there's no way. 5'5"....maybe! It was like being out with Tom Cruise, minus the blinding teeth and couch acrobatics.

I knew this would happen since most men inflate their height online. This caused me much consternation as I struggled to put together an outfit that would look nice but casual. Something that would be flattering but with minimal shoe height since I didn't want to feel Amazonian. I'm not really sure why guys lie about their height online. Perhaps it's not even intentional. Maybe it's even aspirational: Today I'm about 5' 4 1/2" but one day I hope to be 5'9"!

3 hours of alternatively light and intense conversation, a couple of beers and a platter of garlic crostini appetizers later, the date wrapped up. J was energetic and interesting. I loved hearing about his background, nonprofit work and his tech career, but I especially loved learning more about his art. I really enjoyed talking with him about the artistic process and the challenges that go along with it, like the huge risk involved in taking "the leap" into doing something like that fulltime.

I'm inspired by J -- he's living the life I've always wanted for myself.
Even if the date itself wasn't a match, I still came away feeling good about things. It's nice to know there are people like him out there ... it gives me hope! And when his art takes off as I'm sure it will, I'll be able to say I met him once. That's groovy.

Date 96 - Dipping the pen in the company ink

originally posted Saturday, October 01, 2005

There's some debate within the "Council of Evil" that this shouldn't even count as a date. Or perhaps it's a half-date. Some said it was a date that I turned into a non-date.

Read on and you be the judge.

D is a cutie that works on my floor. Awhile ago he started popping by my office for non-office stuff... so I decided to throw a dog a bone and returned his serve.

Next thing I know he's IMing me to ask me out for coffee after my class. Bad timing. Not only was I stuck in a class all week and trying to catch up on work at night, but I also had plans every night of the week, so I asked for a raincheck.

Before our coffee, I began questioning things.
He didn't know I was going on 100 dates. Wasn't it arrogant of me to assume this would be a date? Perhaps the poor guy just wanted to vent about work with someone who didn't work on the same projects. Or maybe it was supposed to be a date but my raincheck thing sent the "I'm not interested" signal. Either way, I didn't want to get things wrong. After suffering the humiliation of the putt-putt incident, I was not going to endure any indignity from a guy I'd have to see occasionally in the elevator at my place of employment!

So, sadly we stayed on the corporate campus and got coffee from the cafeteria. We sat outside on the back patio for an afternoon break that lasted about 45 minutes and got to know each other a little better. Nice.

Several more coffee breaks have ensued and yesterday he bought my Diet Cherry Coke - which incidentally had a winning cap so now I've got another liter of the stuff coming my way. Hooray for caffeine!

So, you be the judge! Date or non-date?