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Archive for the ‘First Dates’ Category

I had two dates this past week that I was looking forward to, both men traveling through Boston. The science geek from San Diego and the designer from Virginia. I will make part of the details brief, because one of them barely deserves the mention.

San Diego is the most contrary and obstinate of men. He walked in strong, being tall and handsome with okay style… really, all he needed to do was not say anything dumb. Alas, everything he said was dumb and, unlike most scientists who are fixated on fact, he liked to argue inarguable points, such as Barcelona being located in the North Eastern region of Spain. Apparently, his once being in a region to the North West of it suddenly relocated Barcelona to the South Eastern part of the country. I had to pull up a map on my iPhone to get him to stop arguing, and then, he responds, well, it is South East of where I was. That is like calling Westchester UPSTATE New York cause you live in Manhattan.

At 7:08 pm on Friday night, Virginia appeared at my door. I stepped out, we looked at each other and each of us knowingly smiled. A hug and kiss on the cheek began our 7 hour date. At no time was there awkward silence, uncomfortable conversation, frustration or misunderstandings. There was no needing to find a way to relate, we just did. He genuinely complimented me throughout the evening in a way that was gentlemanly but also cheeky and flirty. We drank, laughed, talked seriously about our exes, our lives, and life. After our great dinner, we went next door to a great bar and grabbed a back booth and continued. It felt like I have always known him and it was extremely comfortable. I kicked my heels off towards the end of the evening and put my feet beside him on the booth, to which he grabbed my feet and started massaging them. Really?! Thank you! At some point, after he had been running his hand along my feet and ankles for an hour, I needed him closer, so partly to have an excuse, and partly because it was so loud in there, I told him to sit next to me because I couldn’t hear him. A little while later, we were looking at a YouTube video on my phone and, when our heads were really close, I turned to him and said, “you can kiss me if you’d like.” Of course he would like. So, some smooches in the booth, then in the car as we waited for it to heat up, then outside my house as he was dropping me off. As I was getting out of the car, he called me back over to him and gave me one more smooch. Sigh. When I got out of that car and walked to my door, the night seemed a little less dark.

By the way, we have another date for Wednesday and YES, I am MAJORLY crushing on him.

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Apparently my first photo, the one on Match, looks like a serial killer he says. Because I look too serious, because I’m looking right at the camera, because I look like I’m looking through the viewer. This unnerves him. The other photos he loves, that one, he does not.

We met for drinks Saturday late afternoon and talked about everything from sustainability and healthful foods, to tennis and exes. He started talking about his ex by saying, “I know there’s a rule against this on a first date, but…” and so I told him a bit about Type Geek. His ex is a model who likes being taken care of financially and can’t emotionally connect, mine is a man who knows how to spend money and likes the idea of a woman, but can’t emotionally connect. Perhaps we should introduce the two.

One drink turned to two, to 4, to dinner and too much conversation with these two fellows who sat beside us, a cuban born  troublemaker and his midwestern colleague.  Apparently they think I look like some sports newscaster, while I’ve always been told Billie Piper and Jeri Ryan. At least they are all beautiful women, I will give them that.

Conversation was easy, flirting was moderate, and as we parted, he pulled me close for a hug and a kiss on the cheek and told me what a great time he had. He then proceeded to text me a bit that night as he met up with some mates and had another drink or two, which ended with him a bit drunk. This morning, pre run, he texted me that he was feeling rough, but wanted to reiterate that he had a great time last night. Well, that’s a  good sign, right?

I’m talking to a few men, most are semi tech-head geeky and this one was more athletic smarty geeky..and hot, but a total apple fan boy, with an accent, and good style. Would it be improper for me to say that I really need to get laid soon? I need it to be good sex too. Sigh. Santa?!!!

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In the matter of three days…I met someone who actually took my mind off Type Geek. Someone who I was starting to majorly crush on. Someone who I lounged with well over multiple cocktails in cozy corner booths and kissed boldly in the midst of a first date. He photographed me on walks, rubbed my shoulders at the movie theatre, played with my fingers under the table. He told me of things he wanted to do with me, little adventures. Then, in a moment of feeling like he was an understanding stand up guy, as I was finding myself getting wrapped up in these ideas of these future adventures, I put some things on the table. Some things about my past. My family, my business, my sexuality. The next day, he said it was pretty heavy stuff and that he needed a day or two to process it.  But then, that was it. Only thing is, he never came back to ask for clarification, to ask questions, to tell me that he understands that things that happened around me and too me, are not the same as me and that it’s okay. Instead, the message I received loudly, through echoing silence, was that he doesn’t think I’m worth giving the benefit of the doubt to, or a moment to call me or text me and tell me that. My feelings are hurt far more than I thought and I am terribly disappointed because I was really really crushing on the Aussie.

I really want my turn. When is it going to be my turn?

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I guess it is my fault for even considering him to begin with. There was something boyish and scruffy about him , something funny and snarky, something different, I guess. So, I made the date.

My first warning sign should have been the… You plan it and tell me when and where. Umm, no. You want to take me out… YOU plan it.

Then, in rapid succession came every reason and flaming red flag ever needed:

He works a job he isn’t passionate about yet he isn’t strategizing a next move. He’s content with mediocrity.

When I responded past a text of his with two other flirty texts later in the day, his response was to ask if I had Verizon, because he doesn’t have unlimited texts. Way to respond to a hot girl text flirting with you buddy.

The night before our date it became clear that he hadn’t considered planning it when he said, so I’m thinking Chinese cause of your allergy. Um, I can’t do Chinese… Other than pizza and beer it’s one of the worst choices for me. Then he says, well, how about Mexican? To which I respond that it can sometimes be okay but that he should just pick a place and call them and ask whether they can accommodate my allergy. Then, as if he isn’t listening, I realized his third choice  showed the bigger issue motivating his picks, he’s cheap. He chose a vegan/veg place that is really only known for their pizzas. I mentioned that vegan places use gluten as their meat substitutes and rely on bread and pasta as mainstays in the meal. “So, eat vegetables then.” That’s what he said. Hey, way to show a girl a good time.

At 33, he lives with his parents and couldn’t answer the question regarding his exit timeline and strategy.

So, dread dread dread. I cancelled a few hours before, with an excuse regarding work, because I felt it was kinder than the truth. In the end, his response was brilliant, for a man-child.  “That’s too bad, because I was looking forward to our date.  You ruined my day and I’m mad at you for it.” IF I had actually been caught up at work, he just secured himself supportive asshole of the year award and no chance in hell of a redo.

He reminded me of that Chris Elliot show Get A Life when he was a 30 yr old paper boy living above his parent’s garage. Perhaps our date would have ended with my finding out that he stole his dad’s car and was actually unlicensed.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CQolt4lI4wM

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Another great floodapalooza has hit New England and well, I haven’t posted in a while. I have issues with posting at the moment, it’s not that I haven’t gone out on some dates worthy of the type of attention they would have received pre Type Geek. It’s the snark, I can’t find it. I can’t seem to muster it like I did in the past. I just feel worn out and desnarked I guess. If only deskunking my dog was as easy. But let’s be frank, the last year plus of Type Geek wasn’t exactly easy. I don’t begrudge him that, really. I mean, in some sad little way, perhaps I pity him, because in the end, the cross he needs to bear is much heavier and much lonelier than mine. I offered to help carry it, as others in the past surely have as well, but he can’t see through his windows and past his own distorted mirror to see how much better life would be without that weight and self-inflicted injustice.

With that said, let’s sum up the last two dates I went on.

Date 1: Passive Aggressive Resent Man.

Prior to meeting Type Geek, I had conversed with PARM briefly. We talked about getting together and even set a date, Feb 13. Now, we didn’t actually go on said date because I believe something came up with me and I left him a message and said that I needed to cancel. ALTHOUGH, maybe back then there was a hint and I bailed because I thought that it wouldn’t work, I just don’t remember. So, over a year and a half later, post Type Geek, he says hi online, I say hi back. We agree to meet for dinner. He lives in New Hampshire, but works near me, so … we meet up. In the course of 2 hours… each time one of us uses the rest room or goes to do something, he says “oh, you are still here” or “oh, you came back”. First time, cute. 4th time, makes me think you are not so awesome.  Sure, his mom was GREAT at the deep Jewish guilt and apparently he learned a bit in return. Add to that the 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and oh yes…5th time he brought up that I stood him up on February 13th, 2010…but added in, each time, that he wasn’t upset about it, really. Hmm. Really. Guess what, I don’t feel guilty.

Date finally comes to a close and he offers a ride home. He’s really meek and harmless, so I agree. You know how I am odd and don’t love brown shoes with black pants? Sneakers with jeans? Oyster slurpers? Ok, please add on men (or really anyone) that drive white cars. I think it’s silly. White cars are almost worse than red for attention, and they get filthy, so they are super high maintenance. Telling me that your white car cost $60k. Sigh. Lastly, vanity plates?! He had a vanity plate. I can’t say what it was, cause that gives away too much, but I will say this… it was the equivalent of a little boy playing with his Matchbox cars. I’m not sure whether it would have been better, the same, or worse, if he had a vanity plate that said… “vrrr-oooom”. Get what I am saying? Good. So, we haven’t talked since and that was weeks ago. I think we can finally close that page and probably assume that I knew better on Feb 13, 2010, but somehow forgot over time.

Date 2: Last Minute Meh

He was a nice Asian guy… nice. Nothing that really amazed me or moved me, but agreeable and nice. Black car, non athletic shoes that matched his clothing, didn’t smell like sour fermented baby, and has a decent career doing something he decently enjoys. The date was last minute, we were both online, both hungry and bored. We ran an errand together on our way to go grab sushi. Felt like friends, haven’t gotten together since, even though we did the blanketed response of yeah sures. I’m not interested enough to bother. Nothing against him, but he’s just a different cup of tea than what I prefer.

That’s the up to date on all recent dates.

I did however re-sign up for Match and out of bitter annoyance at the service because the first match it came back with…was Type Geek….grrrrrrumble, I agreed to let my friend MidCenturyMuppit set me up with a friend. That, in and of itself was funny enough. Then I find out she has typecast me and I’m now going out with another 5’8 bald former pro bass player who is divorced. Awesome. She laughed at the typecasting. I found it mildly annoying, but I adore her, and so far, he is pretty funny. We are going on tomorrow. I have no clever name for him yet. He has a young daughter and lives an hour a way. If these are the worst of his complications, after a year and a half of Type Geek’s, I think I will be fine.

 

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Okay, I went out with this guy on Friday night. We shared the same musical tastes and had some commonality with other interests. He was tall, handsome, metro.. what wasn’t to like?

The first thing he did, when I arrived at the café, was offer me 5 different types of candy. Candy?! Maybe some people would consider that endearing, but it turned me off. I don’t want to date teenagers, at 36, I want to date men. So, beyond the candy, what I found out next was that he was a workaholic for the wrong reasons, money and status. He mentioned twice that his jeans cost over $500. Let’s call him $500 Jean Guy.  At 32, he had two divorces behind him, one wedding that cost him $80,000, which he felt relevant to tell me. The other, the most recent, resulted in his 4-year-old daughter and a contemptuous relationship with her mother, a woman, whom he informed me, before our first cocktail, within 20 minutes of meeting, that she was bipolar and abusive and that she is costing him enough money to afford her nice tropical vacations. All this before a cocktail!

Shortly after that admission we wandered out of the for some drinks and oysters. I needed a cocktail the way this was headed. We finally made out way into a little place in Harvard Square, and given a corner booth, he proceeded to sit a little too closely, keep offering me candy, telling me to look at him and slurping his oysters with sound effects. Eww. I like oysters, love them in fact, but you are supposed to let them slide down, not slurp slurp suck. Eww, as I write this I suddenly imagine that he probably has sound gross effects during oral sex. Eww.

We finished up at that restaurant and I found myself unnerved and in need of another cocktail to deal with him, so we wander to my local go to and sit at the bar. My date saving waitress comes by and helps distract several times. The bartender offers great drinks, and a shot. The $500 Jean Guy? Well, he starts sniffing me, telling me that I smell sweet, like candy, and then asks me if I think he smells nice. I never ask a date this, I just assume I do. If they don’t like my parfum, they won’t go out with me again. I give big eyes to my waitress friend, who “happens to need to talk to the bartender” and $500 Jean Guy then proceeds to tell her how nice I smell, and how I smell like candy. Suddenly a co-worker of mine appears after spotting me from across the bar and he tells her too… how I smell like candy, as he starts to eat from his bag of candy he bought earlier this evening.

He walks with me for a bit until our paths, luckily, part, and then proceeds to text me and let me know that when I am over my ex and ready for something less than casual, that I can call him. He also informs me that I should have kissed him. No, no, really. Ok, umm, he was weird. Creepy weird. Something also reminded me of Brooklyn , maybe it was a similar body build, facial thing, propensity to just stare at me weirdly. When I met Brooklyn, I thought it was flattering, in retrospect, once I really got to know Brooklyn, from beginning to end, his intensity towards me was just uncomfortable and weird.  How many times did I just say weird? I can’t help it because weird, creepy, and unnerving are the only words that match.

So, what does any frustrated girl do after such a date? She walks past the 24 hour grocery store and buys two different types of ice cream, because she can’t decide, cheesecake bites, raisin toast, yogurt raisins and cereal. I rarely buy any of those items. My heart wanted sugar and carbs to usher in the Hurricane that was coming.

So, I spent Saturday in torrential rain pours, feet soaked, dog soaked, body swollen from carb overload and heart heavy from missing TypeGeek. I had texted him throughout the day to remind him of things to do, just in case, like garage his car, secure any plants in pots outside, watch for odd behavior from his cat, etc. At one point, after he mentioned that he was at a party, I mentioned that I was drinking cab and eating pâté, and potentially by the 3rd glass, I would probably be thinking inappropriately naughty things about him.

He responded with a … “pâté, ewww, gross”.

I made fun of him, told him he was 4 and mentioned that I find it funny how he can eat the muscles but not the organs. He came back with a ,”still gross”.

To which I playfully remarked… ” lucky for you , I never had an issue putting organs in my mouth “.

Silence for a bit, and then “yeah, that’s very nice”.

“I would take TypeGeek over Country Pork any day”, I retorted.

“I’d take a blowjob any day over pâté” TypeGeek said

and so… I responded that ” all you ever need to do is ask”

With that comment said, I went silent for the rest of the evening. We then texted a bit on Sunday as he sneered at the lack of impact the storm had on his neighborhood, while I tried to get the 8 feet of fence that fell in my yard to stand back up and told him to shut it. Then for about 5 minutes on Monday. It’s no mystery or great secret that I want Type Geek and I don’t want to walk away. It’s also no great secret that he doesn’t really want me to go away, or he would not engage in conversations with me about oral sex. I want him back in my bed by his birthday. Sigh.

Meanwhile, I conversed with a couple of men on OkCupid, I didn’t sit and dwell and mope. I also touched base with my friend on Google+ who is going through a divorce after far too many years, and my old Kiwi friend who needs girl advice because he has met someone who sends him ass over tea kettle. It’s been a full week. I’m looking forward to a Thursday Night free without any dates or plans. I think I need a little time with just my dog, my bed and a book. Hope you all made it through the storm safely. Speak to you soon!

 

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I have two first dates this week, on my only nights off. I don’t really know much about either, perhaps that is what I have resorted to now. I know that I found them “interesting” enough to contact them, but it’s a mental block I can’t get past. I’m not retaining details about them. My heart doesn’t want to.

Last week, I went on one first date. This gentleman, the Legal Design Guy, doesn’t know my ex like I thought he might (thankfully), he was getting into the music school as Type Geek was leaving. Also, it turns out he knows a circle of people who I know, which also don’t know Type Geek, so that explains it. So, we had oysters, we had drinks, we had pâté and confit and more drinks. Conversation was fine, but it felt more friend than anything. There is something slightly smarmy that I can’t get past, that I don’t find sexy. I can’t pin point it exactly, but it’s there.

Remember my Jewish Sex God from the very beginning? The one who ushered me into the folds? Well, we were having a conversation the other night, our friendship never really being the same since my trip to visit him that weekend. In the course of the dialogue he mentions that we had no sexual connection and proceeded to tell me why. Now, it’s fine that he didn’t feel a connection to me, but it isn’t fine that he decided to tell me that my being nervous at the reality of having sex with a well endowed man after 12 years of non penetrative lesbian sex translated into being a horrible lay who he felt ashamed to touch. WHAT? Yeah, so, he said that I was largely unresponsive, behaving as a victim of sexual abuse does, because I didn’t make much noise, because I didn’t show him how much I was enjoying sex with him. That I was too inside myself and didn’t give much to my partner, that he felt awful continuing to touch me because he felt that I must have been abused because I seemed to be in another place. Ok, once again, WHAT? Again, 12 years…non penetrative lesbian… flies to Seattle to have weekend sex romp with well endowed male friend… maybe, just MAYBE, I was nervous and shy and insecure about the entire thing?! What a dick, and I am NOT talking about his dick. I felt shitty afterwards, so I ended up emailing Type Geek for his take on my sexual style and he confirmed that Seattle is a DICK, and that I should NEVER give another thought to it, because I was obviously nervous and that he had zero concerns with my style. Thank you Type Geek. Grrr, Seattle. Seattle had no idea why I was angry, which at first I wasn’t. After I thought about it though, that is when I started to get angry, and offended.

So, yeah, Type Geek, we have texted. I apologized to him for not being able to pretend I don’t care and just cut ties. I’m not done with him. I can’t shake that a huge part of me believes that our story hasn’t ended yet. It’s just not our time. But, I want it to be. I know I can’t rush it, but I want to. I want the life with him that I know we can have, but he doesn’t have enough balls yet to have faith, to let go, to grasp something unknown, rather than his own fear. He needs time, he needs some self work, and I just need to live my life, which includes dating other people, while he does his work. Someday I will try again.

If you all think I am foolish, honestly, fuck you. I’m not on this journey for any of you, for how you would do it. It isn’t a choose your own adventure, and you don’t have the right to be angry at the roads I choose to take, because they are different from the paths and methods you would. This is MY story, and when I am laying in my final hours, I owe explanations to only my heart and the hearts of those I have chosen to embrace into my own.  I thank you all for reading, for getting involved and attached and relating, but in the end, this story is uniquely my own and I have no regrets about how I am living it and loving through it, even if that means I am just filling the spaces between Type Geek. Even if that means I am frustrating the hell out of my readers.

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