Your reverse doesn't work

Tonight I found myself screaming to the heavens, "I give, I won't fucking date anymore" amidst tears on my drive home.

I had gone on a few dates with a handsome smart fellow (a few of you know him as "Sea Urchin Boy") who had cooked me dinner a couple of times with fish he caught himself spearfishing, and was very excited to teach me to free dive. The dinners were very romantic, by a roaring fire, or on his roof with Christmas lights and blah blah blah.

Despite the above, I realized he was more interested in teaching me to free dive than date me. Then tonight he had asked to come to my show. Odd, I thought, but whatever... I've had enough people flake on this very hard to get tickets to event that I'll invite him.

After, he invited me over to cook me lobster tail he caught. Zuh? I probed my friend for the meaning of this and she suggested he saw me on stage, got reinterested and wanted to hang out. Ok, cool.

We go back to his place for an amazing dinner of lobster, mac n'cheese, spinach and mint juleps. Its romantic and lovely and blah blah blah (can you tell I'm annoyed). We start to get hot and heavy, I give him one of my amazing back massages, he gives me a mediocre one (yeah, that's right, I said it!); make out continues, and then he starts discussing serious stuff. He likes being affectionate with me, but he's seeing other people, doesn't want to rush into a relationship, ya know, over-analyzing like I tend to do, but I don't do it out loud to the person!

I put on the brakes, told him I was surprised by tonight, he'd been pretty platonic recently. Yeah he agrees. So I tell him I've actually stopped dating because of this stuff. (Not meaning just him in particular), and that I want someone who is as passionate about me as he is his other hobbies (like free diving). He understands, ask if I want to talk about it, and even has the gall to say, 'You will find someone.'

Here is where I say I'm leaving. He seemed to want me to stay, but there is no way in hell I'm letting my bruised ego suffer more for a lay. The unfortunate part in all this (ok, the least unfortunate part) is that today my car decided never to go in reverse again. So of course I'm parked behind him in his carport and he has to push my car out...while I'm trying to retain my dignity and fight back tears of so much continuous rejection (and anger at my car).

He is a gentleman and helps, asks if we can go diving again. 'Of course' I gracefully reply. Then fight the urge to respond to his text message about driving safe and thanks for a 'special evening' by saying "Eat a dick".

Sigh. He is a good guy, but he didn't feel passion for me. And I don't want someone who doesn't want to see me more than every few weeks, and won't make out with me underwater when we free dive. But for fucks sake, can the universe stop reeling me in only to toss me back with flesh wounds? I can't take it anymore!!!

Here and Now

It has been a while since my last post and I am debating on summing up the last few months in one foul swoop, or doing flash back blogs. Before we make any decisions here's the here and now:


I am taking a break from dating.


My ego has been bruised way too many times recently and it needs to heal. I am instead going to buy a stand up paddle board and spend some time in the ocean (all mermaid-like).
 
Ok, I've made a decision to do some recap posts and just discuss the most recent (tonight's) events. The head chef at the restaurant I work at, had become a friend of mine. Every once in a while we go out for food and drinks after work and typically discuss the restaurant "bidness". On one of these excursions, we went to a local restaurant where he knows the partial owner/owner's son who manages the place somewhat. I became interested in said person, asked him out and got no response (via text).



(Makes the "whatever" sign with her hands, followed by the "L" for Looser hand signal... ego only slightly bruised).



The next time we go to this establishment, the guy is all over me, we're flirting, drinking, taking care of my drunk chef, etc. At one point he smoothly does the passionate kiss against the bar while chef is out of the room thing. Hijinks ensue.

But, turns out he's nuts. As in, freak out while I'm over at his place anxiety attack after said hijinks. So, I leave. Don't hear back from him. Tell myself I avoided a difficult situation with a spoiled baby man boy and I deserve better. (Some ego scratches, will heal)


We visited the restaurant some time later, everything was actually very casual, no awkwardness. I do my usual text follow up with baby man boy, don't really hear much back. No biggie.

Then today, chef tells me spoiled man boy got fired. I could only guess why, but still didn't want to hear it. Ego has been sufficiently bruised (due to other events to be discussed later), so much so that even touching it hurts. Yes, the partial owner had a 3 way with some of his waitresses, his older brother (super owner) found out and FIRED HIS OWN BROTHER!! Kind of glad, kind of disgusted that I went there.

So what happens now? Baby boy continues to live off his family's riches (seriously, he owns a yacht) and I wish that I had stole one of his surfboards when I had the chance (he has a second bedroom just to store all of them in).

I explain the ego bruising to the chef and he feels bad, explains that he warned me (did he?) and made me feel worst (grrrrr). I mope a bit, don't to any dinosaur impersonations for him, and keep working. He notices and lets me in on something... One of his handsome friends, who comes into our restaurant, likes me. Oh, the good looking one? Yes. Oh, the one who always comes in with model sized girls...?

Yes.



Thanks, but not really. I appreciate it, but lets be honest, I don't have time for that shit.

Desperation Meter

According to the chef at the restaurant I waitress at, I'm off the desperation meter. No, not the "off" I initially hoped he meant (as in its such a small reading it doesn't warrant a meter), "off" as in the meter is broken because it couldn't read my excessive rate of desperation.
This was in reference to my asking out a friend of his (which he seemed to encourage btw). The story goes: my awesome chef and I go out to dinner sometimes after work, usually with a co-worker or two. Because he is a chef, he knows great food, and often gets it for free by knowing other restaurant-y type people. One of these being the owner of a great late night food place. We met said owner several times, he is good looking, kind, friendly, and as chef put it, a weird that would work well with me. (Not to mention he owns a boat, spear fishes, and jet skis to Catalina. Yep, my kind of crazy).
Chef tells his friend I dig him, and he says he digs too. Yay! So, I ask chef if I should ask him out. Yes. He even suggests I go grab food there (which I do, on his night off of course). So, Sunday I send him a text, ask him out for drinks. He says yes, then says he'll let me know his schedule the next day. Which he doesn't.
And didn't.
And still hasn't.
Just for the count, this was 5 days ago.
When I see chef again tonight, he asks about it, I tell him what happened. We banter about it throughout my shift, even devising a silly plan to go the restaurant tonight to make things awkward. In the end, we don't go, and chef says the desperation meter thing.
Drat.
He explained that he thought it was balls-y of me to ask the guy out. And how that seemed desperate.
Fuck.
So, I ask guys out. I don't see what the big deal is!? Are we not living in a modern world, and I am a not a material, er... modern girl? I've received this sort of reaction before. People seem to be amazed that a gal actually has the lady balls to ask out a guy. Why is this such a ridiculous notion?

Here is how I see it, and please, let me know your thoughts (especially any male readers I have out there). I am a passionate person (apparently some insert "desperate" where I say passionate). I believe that life is short, we have to take chances, otherwise we won't get anywhere. Basically I really believe in trying, even if it means failing... often. That's how we learn, right? So I take this whole premise into the world of dating. Give it a chance, accept rejection, because we can't always get it right the first time. But apparently, I'm supposed to sit around and wait for some guy to ask me out. Well, experience has taught me that not many have the cajones. And yes, I would like to meet someone who has the guts to take a chance. But in the meantime I'm not going to miss my chances to try and spend more time with a guy I find interesting.

Apparently other people interpret my actions differently. My classmates and I were discussing today when was it too late for a woman to have a child (the answer is menopause). And the only male in the group said that you have to be careful of your biological clock. If its clanging too loudly, it will scare guys off. Is that what I am? An obnoxious clock? Am I the ticking crocodile to the cowardly Captain Hooks of this world?  I would much rather think of myself as Tinkerbell, and I'm just too sassy for any lost boys, or Peter Pans who don't want to grow up.

Perspective

Sorry I've been M.I.A. for a while. Such is the case with being a student in the type of program I am in (vague, I know). That and I spent my winter break working two jobs and going to school. The class I took was an Interpersonal Communication class with an incredible professor. Some of my next few blogs will be pulled from papers I wrote for that class which, ironically, are relevant to this site.

But that's not why I write here today. The Perspective I refer to in the title, is that of my last blog and how the shoe changed foot, er...feet?

Last summer I was dating, a bit, and one of the gentlemen I had the opportunity to spend some quality time with was an artist we will call "Granola". In one of those random chance meetings, Granola was close friends with someone else who had sent me a message on a dating site. This other person lived about 6 hours away from me, and yet wrote to me occasionally, even though we never met. Somehow, a common social networking site we were all on, recommended Granola and I become friends. We did, and then we met up, and then we dated.

Granola was handsome, tall, creative, and very shy. I had had bad experiences with artists types before, so I tended to avoid them at all costs (and actors, though I have enough artists and actor friends now that have become ingratiated to me, I still may not date them). He was not a very social creature, which doesn't always mesh with my personality. But he was very kind, sensitive, and funny.

And, there was no chemistry... for me.

I know that is harsh, but we're putting the shoe on the other foot here. Granola was sweet, but I wasn't ready, or I didn't know what I was doing, or (most likely) I didn't have enough time. Whatever it was, it wasn't meant to be (for me). I sensed that he was more interested in me than I was in him. He once even told me that he would help me learn to love my curves!

Yeah, I'm crazy for not falling for that.

So, here is our perspective. After tears shed over Chicken boy, I soon had to realize that I had been on the other side of the fence as well. I too had some one who really(?) liked me, and I wasn't as interested in them. Now I'm the jerk.

And in the ironic twist, Granola had also sent me a message clarifying that it was over (just like I did with Chicken boy), and letting me know that he enjoyed the time we spent together. (And that he wasn't looking for a relationship either, but I didn't really believe that part).

I recently got back in touch with Granola, had coffee, invited him to an art show. It was great to see him. Maybe we can be friends. Do I really want to be friends with Chicken boy? No, not yet, its too soon and I'm still hurt. (Though he did just recently accept the social networking friend request I sent him from back when we were dating, and I did have a chance to explain to him, when he randomly contacted me to go to the beach, that I was under the impression that he was interested in me, and was honestly surprised that he wasn't. That shut him up.)

From having a chance to review a past fling, and see that I was not always the one being rejected (that's a harsh word, and I'm attempting to strike it from my vocabulary), I have learned to see both sides of the equation, and not get as hurt next time it doesn't work out.

Though I can't promise it will ever make sense to me.

Chickens

Having not heard from the awesome guy that I had gone on a bunch of dates with lately, and was starting to get the gut feeling that he wasn't as into me as it seemed, I sent him a text saying the following:

"Hey, I don't know if we lost momentum, you're busy or you met someone else; so I just wanted to say that I really enjoyed spending time with you."

This is his response:

"Aww, thank you. I really had fun too! Have been super busy. I'd like to hang out again soon. But as friends and not in the romantic way if that makes sense.

Me: "Yep. bummer."

Ok, for any guys reading this, if you are not interested in a girl "romantically" don't tell her you want to raise chickens at her place!!! This implies that you want to spend time there, or possibly even, move in.

There are a lot of other 'don'ts' that happened as well (don't make her dinner, take her ice skating, talk about having kids, or any other things that may be deemed "romantic".) but we won't get into them. Basically, your vocabulary should only consist of words in the present or past tense.

I was thrilled about the chickens, and that he grows his own kale. I was even starting to think about how freakin' blonde our kids would be (he's blonder than me, a toehead) and Viking like. I mean basically our kids would come out of the womb with axes, Nordic beards and speaking Swedish! They'd be so Swedish they'd raid and pillage Ikea and re-claim Solvang for their hunting ground and lingonberry farm.

I digress...

So, this led me to the question that I really don't want the answer to, "What is wrong with me?" For quite some time, my love life has been riddled with rejection. Yes, this is the universe telling me that I'm in an intense degree program and really don't have time for guys, but I am still lonely.

Instead I call up a close friend (or 3), one of who which explains to me that I am THE TRIFECTA.

Smart.

Pretty.

and, um... I forgot the third, a nice ass or something.

She was a great support, and gawfed wonderfully at the ridiculous of the text message. Yet I am still at a loss. Confused. I really thought that he liked me, there was tangible evidence to support this claim. But I don't know what happened. We could have had chickens together.

Moment of weakness

Some days you just feel like a fat whale who will be lonely and single forever...

The Silent but Deadly Text

In comprising this list of text messages that can ultimately help you lose a girl, I failed to realize that NOT texting can be as detrimental as sending a deal breaker text. It is the equivalent of hanging up on someone, or not responding to an email. If this was World War II and I was writing to my beloved, NOT receiving a timely letter correspondence would most likely mean that he had been killed (or had been captured, realized his love for Ryan's privates, or had been cleverly hiding in Budapest disguised as a woman.) The point being, if this was any time in the past, no response could be construed as someone's unfortunately tragic death! Just to give us some perspective.

Why do I bring this up? Today I received two text messages from potential suitors. One I had not heard from since January 2nd! And we still haven't met (yes, this is someone I've pseudo met from an online dating site). He engaged in some friendly banter, then disappeared again.
The second was someone I've been on a few dates with. I contacted him around 2pm, and didn't hear back until after 9pm. I responded with a clever, yet fun and inviting text, and then heard nothing again for 45 minutes.
To me, I have come to expect a text message in maybe 3-4 hours after the initial text. I could be way out of the ballpark on this one, but 13 days? 7 hours? In my honest opinion, this doesn't say to me, "I like you." I am open for discussion, but my point of view is that communication, especially silence, tells more than we think it does. While I firmly believe that "...a wise man knows when to shut up." I also believe that a fool takes a long time to text back.