Stuffing the holiday bird

originally posted Friday, November 25, 2005

What is it that drives boyfriends from the past to contact you on the holidays? I know the triptophan in turkey induces sleepiness and the occasional couch-bound coma, but come on! Are these guys so lonely? Not banging anyone at the moment and hoping to stuff my turkey for the holiday? ...and yes, I learned that terminology in charm school, thank you very much!

J gives me a holiday shout out, hoping to meet me for coffee if I'm anywhere near him. That's easy enough to ignore given the way things wrapped up that last time I saw him. Delete!

Then today my email inbox shows a message from a name I'm NOT pleased to see. I last saw "The Snake" in July or August... it's much harder to ignore... he's local and it's taken lots of effort for me to move along. I still think about him and I don't want to squander the progress I've made... more importantly I don't want to further abuse my friends by subjecting them to any future tales of woe as a result of having the snake in my life. They've already suffered more than enough.

The timing is interesting though. The snake always did have a naturally sadistic spidey sense. The boy I jettisoned this week reminded me a little of him -- enough that when I was telling someone about the demise of this budding relationship I accidentally slipped up and usedthe snake's name. Doh! Paging Dr. Freud.... Dr. Freud, please pick up the white courtesy phone! Then next thing I know, I've got an email from the Snake. I should have just deleted it but morbid curiosity got the better of me.

Why the hell should this even register on my radar (except that in the past I had it bad for him)? He wasn't asking to start back up with me. He wasn't actually asking anything of me. This requires NO ACTION on my part but I'm still riled up about it. At least I finally feel marginally vindicated to have a shred of evidence that he's thinking about me after all this time, that I had some minimal effect on him, somewhere deep in the tiny memory chip of his robotic heart. I guess that's something. It's not much, and it's not enough, but it's something.

Why can't two arms and two legs be enough?

originally posted Tuesday, November 22, 2005

I'm at the gym working out with Nikki. I'm cranky because this pesky hip injury is still preventing me from my normal work out routine. Nikki was kind enough to let me join up with her and lift some weights.

If I do any strength training it's usually at home. I normally stick to the classes and avoid the weight area of the gym. There are too many freak-a-zoids on steroids for my taste. Excessively bleached blondes with big buoyant boobies and painfully painted faces. Spandex. Lycra. Thongs. Need I say more?

I do a little cardio on a recumbent bike before lifting and already my hip is throbbing. Will I ever be normal again? And what the hell happened to my hip to begin with? It's not like I'm 80!

I'm making the rounds on the machines with Nikki. It's not too bad. I'm remembering how strong I feel when I'm lifting. It's a good feeling. Not good enough to offset the 10 lbs I've gained since being injured though... but that's why I'm here, isn't it? Nikki is doing a double set of lat pull downs and I opt to walk a quick lap around the track while I'm waiting for her to finish. That's when I see him.

The first thing I notice is his oversized T-shirt. It reads, "Smoke a Fatty!". Yeah, that's classy. He definitely belongs here in the weight area! Then, as I pass him I realize something isn't right. I can see through his knees! Oh my god, the guy is bionic! He's got flesh tone racing legs! That's awesome! Then I glance up and I notice he has no arms either. He has nubs. They end maybe 3 or 4 inches above where his elbows should be and I see all of this without really looking, as I'm passing him on the track.

Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. This guy has no arms, no legs and he's in the gym on a Monday night lifting weights! I have the audacity to complain about a bum hip and this guy has no real appendages to speak of and he's happily working out!

What the hell is wrong with me that I can't just BE HAPPY! I have arms! I have legs! Mostly, all my parts are present and in good working condition.

Yes, I am a smidge heavier than I should be, or want to be.
Yes, I tend to date flawed men with odd proclivities and an inability to emotionally connect.
But why the hell can't I just be happy with that? Why can't I just work hard at my job, exercise with focused intensity and lead a quiet life with my dog?

Why do I always want more?

Why can't two arms and two legs be enough?
Why can't a guy who has a good job, a modicum of intelligence and decent looks be enough?
Why can't I just be happy with a guy who tolerates my existence?
Why do I insist on being with someone who thinks I'm cute, is kind to me and physically affectionate?
Someone who WANTS to be with me? Someone capable of real emotional intimacy?

After leaving the gym, I spend some time with a guy who is smart, has a great job, is intelligent and decent looking.
... yet even after all that, it still isn't enough.

I get by with a little help from my friends

originally posted Monday, November 21, 2005

I'm thankful for:

• Dinner with S
• Karaoke with C
• The gym with N
• Dinner conversation with S
• Drinks with A
• Indie / arty movies with J
• Social commentary and discussion with L
• and miscellaneous phone calls to catch up from A, T, and others...

I realize that my life is full and good.

My friends really get me and embrace me for all my weirdness. I get to fully be myself and each of them polishes a different facet of my personality.

I wonder if it's even possible for me to find a guy who can hang with this. I guess I've just come to the realization that I temper myself around guys I date. I tone it down so that they won't be too scared or threatened by my largesse. Maybe it's time to change that.

I don't seem to have a problem finding guys to date. I get along well with most people, but in order to find that snug Lego snap-click fit I might need to show my exotic dodecahedron shape.

On the other hand, maybe I just need to accept the revolving door with my relationships and be thankful that I've got such a great group of friends in my life. Boys come and go, but friends are there to stay.

Date 87 - More creative living through chemistry?

originally posted Saturday, November 12, 2005

Despite my need for a break, I was eagerly anticipating my date with B this week. It would be a refreshing change to be out with a known entity and someone that has friends in common with me. Sure to be a good time and might be exactly the type of pick-me-up I needed.

B had a birthday this week and he offered up a nice and varied selection of different activities depending on the day that would work best for my schedule. Very thoughtful! Is that what happens when you hit 41?

We opted for a Friday night concert at the Glenn at the Backyard. The band Storyville was playing some kind of reunion show. I'm not familiar with the band, but I've seen lead singer Malford Milligan before and the guy absolutely rocks! My voice instructor asked me to go see him once as homework and I was awed. Malford puts it all out there - no holding back. It was a no-brainer to choose the concert.

When I arrived at the venue it was completely unrecognizable. This place used to be secluded. You could even see the stars in the sky in addition to the ones on stage. No longer. They've developed the hell out of the area now, and they're not quitting anytime soon. I wore sturdy shoes in anticipation of hiking a long distance from a remote parking spot but there was no need to since it's now surrounded by big strip malls and parking lots.

I was actually a little nervous pre-date, but I felt totally relaxed once I got there. B is not really physically remarkable: 5'10", brownish hair (what's left of it). He's a lot of fun though and that definitely ups his appeal: intelligent, politically aware and opinionated. Refreshing.

What wasn't refreshing was chemical ingestion prior to the show. It's certainly food for thought. I suppose it was good that he asked me if I minded him using something. I asked what the something was and he told me. Wow. Um...? Geez! Seriously? I wished he had just done it before I arrived so I wouldn't have to think about it. This was hard stuff. Scary stuff, in my opinion. It's thought provoking about where one draws the line. If alcohol is OK, or pot is OK, then what about harder things?

B is successful and self employed in a creative job. He's an impressive guy but the chemical usage immediately made me feel like we inhabited separate worlds. I envy the creative world he lives in and the freedom it gives him, but if this is what it means then maybe I am better off remaining a corporate drone.

Who am I to begrudge him his "birthday treat"? I had my own car, so I wouldn't have to worry about getting home safely, but I had to wonder how often he does this sort of thing and what it really does for him. Also, I can certainly understand wanting to have some caffeine or alcohol to help with a date (to bring the energy up, or round off any sharp edges) but is a date with me so stressful as to require hard drugs?

We grabbed some BBQ sandwiches inside and a couple of drinks and headed up to the stage. Storyville rocked. Dave, the lead guitarist was really impressive. It was a fun night. We stuck around a bit after the show and talked for awhile. He wanted to head somewhere else to hang out and talk more but I was pretty tired. I didn't notice any difference in his behavior over the course of the evening but sadly, the drugs definitely had the effect of changing my perception of him.

Working the system

Well, so much for slowing it down to one track dating. I guess I got ahead of myself again. The sucky thing is I feel like I got stuck doing the dirty work in ending it. If they're not into it, why can't men just step up and be men? Like Paula Cole, I'm wondering, "Where have all the cowboys gone?"

It's gotten bad enough that like Maureen Dowd, I'm wondering, "Are Men Necessary?"

…and I LOVE MEN!!!!!

JM and I had a little IM-plosion yesterday. At some point things diverged and we wound up having two very different conversations. I think I've learned that men and women shouldn't send text or instant messages relating to dating or their relationships. There was a phone call last night that helped clarify things but I think the end result is that we're each better off on our own.

We've cancelled our plans for this Saturday, and my impression is that's it. I accidentally left my highly coveted and as yet unwatched Dane Cook DVD at his place, but he's agreed to drop it by my house sometime.

Just as well, I suppose. Regardless of how open minded I am, I'm not sure I'd be able to handle his inevitable kink... or that it would be good for my psyche long term. I think when you're exposed to weird things, it leaves an indelible mark on you that may linger much longer than your involvement with the person with the weird tendencies. So, maybe in this case it's better to end things before I start them. I'm still unmarked!

A close friend and confidant that I had dinner with last night reminded me that I'm doing the 100 First Dates for good reasons... and that JM was only one of remaining 80-something to go. Just because he came close to measuring up to my standards, and just because I'm tired isn't a good enough reason to stop working the system. I guess I've got to have a little faith. In the odds... in the system... in myself.

At least I've got tomorrow's date with B to look forward to. I know we're going to have a great time; he's a known entity from one of my social circles and always a hoot.

Of Drama Kings and other things

originally posted Friday, November 11, 2005

One of the many adored men in my life sent me an awesome article on Drama Kings. The article isn't even so much about these strangelings... it's about the hard rockin', fiercely strong women who have to deal with these yahoos.

As I read it, I recognized more than one guy I've been involved with (the Nublet, the Snake, and the latest: Tattoo) and it was wonderful to realize the truth. As much as dealing with them sucked, I did emerge even stronger than before. It's also getting much easier to walk away. I'm just not willing to take the more difficult aspects of my being or my personality and tamp them down or suck it up to be with a man. Especially one that's weaker than me, incapable of real intimacy or just full of general chaos and drama. Who needs it? I'm just not interested, life is too short but good and I love who I am.

I also really love and adore men. I work with wonderful men all day long. I've got lots of awesome male friends. I'm lucky to have such really great guys in my life. They seem to love and adore me as much as I do them. They accept the whole of me; they just don't seem to wind up in the romantic / relationship area of my life.

I was questioning the amount of effort and energy I've been putting into the quest of 100 First Dates recently. I felt like it's taken over too much. Normal people don't put this much effort into things, why do I? One of these wonderful men responded, "because you've already done everything else; having a healthy and meaningful intimate relationship is on your list of things to do." He also reminded me that by going through this, I'm learning so much more about myself, regardless of what happens with any of the men.

The majority of my "issues" with men would probably be solved if I could just be more Zen and accept the impermanence of love these days. There's a Buddhist exercise about detachment that basically has you imagine anything (anyone?) you love in ruins so that you won't be too attached to things and will really appreciate them "in the now". A favorite vase that you love? It's in shards on the floor. A gorgeous car? Completely wrecked. Life still goes on and is just as beautiful.

A woman interviewed in the article (divorced and happily living alone) hit the nail on the head when she said this:
"I'm not saying forever on this - I love men, I love sex. I love being in love. But I've found the notion of one man way more appealing than the reality of being with any of the men I've been out with."

All I can say to that is "Amen, sister! Amen."

Fatigue Sets In: 100 First Dates Moratorium?

originally posted Tuesday, November 08, 2005

I'm tired... oh so tired. I think the last date countdown was #88, which means I've only made it through 13 first dates.... (sigh). Remember, we're only counting the first timers here - not the repeat offenders!

I still think the 100 First Dates is a good idea. I'm just thinking maybe it's time for a breather. I'll continue with any first dates that are currently on the agenda. I'm already scheduled for a first date with B to celebrate his birthday this week, so I'll definitely do that but I'm thinking of putting a freeze on new applicants until I can process the current workload and move on.

There are several reasons for this:
My house is in disarray - The Pergo floor is tantalizingly close to being complete. The guest bath is in a state of disrepair: floor ripped up, gaping hole in the wall where the hideous built in fluorescent light fixture used to be, exposed drywall everywhere since I ripped down the wallpaper. Given a little leisure time I can fix all of this and enjoy the fruits of my labor! This means I won’t be so embarrassed when I have company over, and dates won’t be intimidated by my prowess with power tools.

My work life is in flux - I just accepted some freelance work on the side. Thank god it's an interesting, stimulating and meaningful project. Afterall, that's why I got into this business to begin with! Meanwhile, my day job sucketh my will to live. After a short and demotivating conversation with my manager yesterday, the job search is in full swing! This means I'll have to prep for interviews and get my portfolio together.

My attention span is shortening - The turnover is exhausting. Lately, the dating candidates have been really nice. The older ones have all been speaking of some great connection they feel with me. I like them, but don't feel anything. I'm wondering if some of these guys wouldn't be better contenders if they had my full attention. Maybe I'd feel something for them if I wasn't so busy. Instead they're talking to me and I'm distracted by anything shiny and have trouble recalling their names. Parakeets have greater attention spans.

I've turned into "that girl" - and who wants to be "that girl"?! I was at a party recently and I realized that friends have now taken to introducing me as "that girl who's going on 100 First Dates". Yeah, great. So that's the only compelling thing about me these days? Pathetic. Any good potential dates are turned off by that and the creepy guy from New York who smells like poo decides that's his cue to mosey over and see if he can reserve a spot on my dance card. Not exactly the demographic I was shooting for, but thanks buddy.

I think I might give JM a chance at something short term and see how that works out. Just take myself out of circulation temporarily. Our last date was really nice and very comfortable. I brought Sophie over to his place and we had a little slumber party (with pajamas, thank you -- there was no hibbity-skibbity). We got Chinese takeout, watched some Ali G and SNL, talked about growing up in South Florida, and had a nice relaxed time. The next day we had a leisurely brunch and he decided to tag along while I ran some errands and took care of some stuff, then we had a catnap. We wound up being together for a full 24 hours. It was great except I was nervous he might still be hanging around when my next date arrived to pick me up for dinner later that night. One-track daters don't have that kind of stress in their lives; it just made me feel like a player.

What do you think? Should I continue on with the saga of 100 First Dates or give it a rest?

Date 88 - Halloween Voodoo

originally posted Tuesday, November 01, 2005

T should have been a VERY important man given the amount of scheduling and rescheduling it took for this date to come to fruition.

We met at ZTejas for dinner. When we rescheduled for the umpteenth time, I didn't realize it was going to be Halloween night. For a brief moment I considered wearing some sort of costume, but let's face it...
Internet dating is scary enough as it is.

As a minor concession to my urge for a costume I threw all caution to the wind and wore a pair of new tall leather boots. To hell with worrying about his height! I actually arrived a few minutes early and seated myself at a high top near the door and not far from the fireplace. I saw him immediately when he came in. Well groomed, conservatively dressed with the exception of an oxford shirt the exact color of Astroturf.

Clearly the majority of Austin was either doling out candy to the tots in their neighborhoods or they were downtown on 6th. It felt odd to be out on a date on Halloween. I really DO need to pay more attention to what I'm doing when I schedule these dates. We were immediately seated on the heated back patio and enjoyed the relative quiet of the restaurant.

My very rare Voodoo Tuna ensured that regardless of T's social graces or conversational abilities, this would be a very good date! To my delight, T warmed up easily and we proceeded to have an interesting and lively conversation about everything from owning and operating a business to globalization, public policy, hiking and skiing, bankruptcy law, lobbying, insurance, and Texas politics.

It was one of the best dinner conversations I've had in awhile. No physical spark but a nice night nonetheless.