I am experimenting with dating while not under the influence and I have to tell you, it's not pretty.
Frank doesn't give a shit if I'm drunk, sober, upright, upside down - as long as I'm listening, he's game.
Others are concerned. "Do we like each other when we're sober?" Spaceman asked worriedly recently. We'll find out.
We went golfing yesterday. "Let's have a pre-round lube!" I was encouraged into the bar next to the course. Confused looks were exchanged as I ordered a diet Coke with lime. While I generally suck as a golfer, this round was bad even by my standards. Not a good start.
Then we went out to dinner and "drinks." He had 3 beers, I had cranberry juice. He then - get this - proceeded to poke fun at me.
The drive home - alone - was startlingly in focus and with no fears - founded or unfounded - that a police car would drop in behind me.
Spaceman is currently cleaning out his apartment, which he has dubbed "The Cave." I have been there once - there was a rough path through the debris to his bedroom, which was graced with a large dog who shared the bed with us for the evening. I haven't been back since, as he wants to clean up (after seeing my home and discovering that yes, adults can and do have nice houses). "Why not just save yourself the trouble and date a blind girl," I suggested.
A blind date in the true sense - what a concept! So of course I googled this when I got home. Can you believe there is NOT a dating website for the blind? Sorry Spaceman, you're on your own. Either that or you'll have to poke my eyes out. Which would be preferable to another sober round of golf with you.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Monday, July 21, 2008
5 Types of Men that Women Avoid
I recently checked an email account I use(d) solely for online dating and found an article from E-Harmony entitled "5 Types of Men that Women Avoid." What is startling is that all 5 of these types seem to all be rolled up in my new paramour, Mr. Craigslist .
Now, with apologies to E-Harmony, my version of their enewsletter:
1. Mr. Gadget - Last night I got to hear, in detail, about his very first video game (not just a Commodore 64, a Commodore 32!), right through in chronological order to a new XBox race car game that allows him to enter the EXACT SAME sports car that he now drives!
"No wonder you haven't had time to unpack or buy furniture," I replied after listening to a 20 minute dissertation on the relative drag of road surface on the tires of his Nissan. I WISH I was joking but I'm not. He won't let me see where he lives because he claims to have no furniture. Either that or a wife and 3 kids. Take your pick.
2. The Man-Child - If I hear one...more...time ... about his teenage job lifeguarding, I SWEAR I'm going to pull each hair individually out of his new goatee (don't make me tell you his lame gay-bashing joke told at his co-workers expense with the word "goatee" in the punchline - I've already heard it twice this week and I can't bear to even type it).
3. The Sociopath - Those of you who know me may have had the (dubious) pleasure of hearing me play my guitar. Since I've been seeing this guy for going on two months now, and since he never asked, I offered to play a tune for him. He requested "Stairway to Heaven." Not kidding. I played it - the guitar part anyway. Then I played a James Taylor song which apparently moved him so much that he - get this - LEFT THE ROOM in the middle of the song and returned at the end without comment. I put my instrument away after that and he said nothing.
4. The Chatterbox - Don't worry about making conversation. He does all the talking for both of us.
5. The Victim - "Things ended badly with my last girlfriend," he warned. "Where did you bury the body," I asked. But seriously, he just got angry and said he would never ski with her again but he suspects she will change her mind this winter when the snow starts flying again. Apparently she just wanted to use him for sex, a typical FWB set up which he has warned me is "not his thing." Unfortunately for both of us, this is his sole redeeming quality.
So move over, Dr. Warren. I don't need E-Harmony for dating advice - I've got Craigslist.
Now, with apologies to E-Harmony, my version of their enewsletter:
1. Mr. Gadget - Last night I got to hear, in detail, about his very first video game (not just a Commodore 64, a Commodore 32!), right through in chronological order to a new XBox race car game that allows him to enter the EXACT SAME sports car that he now drives!
"No wonder you haven't had time to unpack or buy furniture," I replied after listening to a 20 minute dissertation on the relative drag of road surface on the tires of his Nissan. I WISH I was joking but I'm not. He won't let me see where he lives because he claims to have no furniture. Either that or a wife and 3 kids. Take your pick.
2. The Man-Child - If I hear one...more...time ... about his teenage job lifeguarding, I SWEAR I'm going to pull each hair individually out of his new goatee (don't make me tell you his lame gay-bashing joke told at his co-workers expense with the word "goatee" in the punchline - I've already heard it twice this week and I can't bear to even type it).
3. The Sociopath - Those of you who know me may have had the (dubious) pleasure of hearing me play my guitar. Since I've been seeing this guy for going on two months now, and since he never asked, I offered to play a tune for him. He requested "Stairway to Heaven." Not kidding. I played it - the guitar part anyway. Then I played a James Taylor song which apparently moved him so much that he - get this - LEFT THE ROOM in the middle of the song and returned at the end without comment. I put my instrument away after that and he said nothing.
4. The Chatterbox - Don't worry about making conversation. He does all the talking for both of us.
5. The Victim - "Things ended badly with my last girlfriend," he warned. "Where did you bury the body," I asked. But seriously, he just got angry and said he would never ski with her again but he suspects she will change her mind this winter when the snow starts flying again. Apparently she just wanted to use him for sex, a typical FWB set up which he has warned me is "not his thing." Unfortunately for both of us, this is his sole redeeming quality.
So move over, Dr. Warren. I don't need E-Harmony for dating advice - I've got Craigslist.
Saturday, July 05, 2008
Deleted
I was driving home from summer vacation when my cell phone made the distinctive sound indicating a test message had been received:
"Cathy - How R U?"
It was from a NH number I did not recognize. I texted back "Great! Who is this?"
I got no reply so I called and discovered it was one of the many enumerated in this blog. Someone I had dated a few times and then cut it off, much to this gentleman's chagrin.
The phone was answered. "Hi, it's Mike. You've obviously deleted me from your cell phone."
I tried to lie. New phone, failure to port over information in its entirety, I knew it was you, just joshing with you, ha ha. He wasn't buying it.
I asked him why he called and he would not fess up. "Nope - you deleted me. Never mind."
Now keep in mind that I told this guy about a year ago that I wasn't interested. I have run into him several times since but have kept a friendly distance.
So the question is - how long does etiquette dictate you keep someone, anyone, in your speed dial list?
I honestly have names in my cell phone that I cannot recognize. Then there are those I would not call if my hair was on fire. Craig - who the fuck was that? Dan. Dan who? Shit, what if one day I get a text message from Craig OR Dan. Or Craig AND Dan. How would I answer the phone? And once I delete them, am I required to somehow remember every number I ever dialed?
Then I got a call from Frank. He proudly announced that he has now put me on speed dial - #2 on his phone, right behind "911." I did not share with him that he is #85 on my phone, assuming I even KNEW how to USE speed dial (which I do not). He thinks we have reached the stage of our relationship where he can a) put me on speed dial and b) call me after 9pm. This news broke at 8:58pm, apparently a preemptive strike in case I countered that we were NOT at that stage, that he needed to remove me from speed dial and never call beyond 8:59pm.
This reminds me of the Seinfeld episode (what doesn't remind me of a Seinfeld episode) where Jerry discovers he is on his new girlfriend's speed dial list and becomes obsessed with becoming #1.
Of course, I am thinking that if I am, after only a few weeks, already #2, right behind emergency 911, that there must not have been many other contenders. I mean, I would have to delete a LOT of people - friends, family, co-workers and yes, previous boyfriends, to even get him in the top 20.
So is this a sweet thought on his part or pathetic indication that this guy has no friends? You decide. Or maybe he is more decisive about who gets deleted when.
Meanwhile, speaking of pathetic, I seem to have trouble hanging out with someone with manners.
Take our last date. We went out to dinner at a fancy restaurant. The waiter brought us to our table. I promptly plunked my butt down on the one with the best view and looked quizzically at Frank who remained standing at the second chair. After clearing his throat a few times I realized he was holding out the chair, as if he was with, say, a lady. A lady who would wait for someone to offer a seat and pull out the chair!
Blimey, Capt'n! I'm but a simple street urchin, sellin' flowers. Oh! Wouldn't it be loverly?
So what on EARTH has happened to me that this basic courtesy is so foreign, that he might as well have uttered it in Sanskrit.
I am also flummoxed by his insistence on opening doors for me. I pop out of the car like a jack-in-the-box, ready to flee as if the vehicle is on fire. After doing so 3-4 times in one day, Frank gamely trotted around to my side of the vehicle and, quick as a bunny, shut the door before I swung my legs out. "What's the hurry, honey?" he intoned in that sweet Texas accent as he politely opened the door for me.
I'd like to blame my ex-husband for my being conditioned to not expect this type of chivalrous behaviour, but I fear it goes back much further. I remember my parents fighting on a similar topic. "You never open doors for me!" my mother yelled. "How can I ... you're always 10 steps ahead of me!" my father replied. I like to think we make our own destiny, and to blame an ex or our parents is a cop out.
Someday, I hope I can learn to delete the past, as easily as deleting those forgotten names from my cell phone.
"Cathy - How R U?"
It was from a NH number I did not recognize. I texted back "Great! Who is this?"
I got no reply so I called and discovered it was one of the many enumerated in this blog. Someone I had dated a few times and then cut it off, much to this gentleman's chagrin.
The phone was answered. "Hi, it's Mike. You've obviously deleted me from your cell phone."
I tried to lie. New phone, failure to port over information in its entirety, I knew it was you, just joshing with you, ha ha. He wasn't buying it.
I asked him why he called and he would not fess up. "Nope - you deleted me. Never mind."
Now keep in mind that I told this guy about a year ago that I wasn't interested. I have run into him several times since but have kept a friendly distance.
So the question is - how long does etiquette dictate you keep someone, anyone, in your speed dial list?
I honestly have names in my cell phone that I cannot recognize. Then there are those I would not call if my hair was on fire. Craig - who the fuck was that? Dan. Dan who? Shit, what if one day I get a text message from Craig OR Dan. Or Craig AND Dan. How would I answer the phone? And once I delete them, am I required to somehow remember every number I ever dialed?
Then I got a call from Frank. He proudly announced that he has now put me on speed dial - #2 on his phone, right behind "911." I did not share with him that he is #85 on my phone, assuming I even KNEW how to USE speed dial (which I do not). He thinks we have reached the stage of our relationship where he can a) put me on speed dial and b) call me after 9pm. This news broke at 8:58pm, apparently a preemptive strike in case I countered that we were NOT at that stage, that he needed to remove me from speed dial and never call beyond 8:59pm.
This reminds me of the Seinfeld episode (what doesn't remind me of a Seinfeld episode) where Jerry discovers he is on his new girlfriend's speed dial list and becomes obsessed with becoming #1.
Of course, I am thinking that if I am, after only a few weeks, already #2, right behind emergency 911, that there must not have been many other contenders. I mean, I would have to delete a LOT of people - friends, family, co-workers and yes, previous boyfriends, to even get him in the top 20.
So is this a sweet thought on his part or pathetic indication that this guy has no friends? You decide. Or maybe he is more decisive about who gets deleted when.
Meanwhile, speaking of pathetic, I seem to have trouble hanging out with someone with manners.
Take our last date. We went out to dinner at a fancy restaurant. The waiter brought us to our table. I promptly plunked my butt down on the one with the best view and looked quizzically at Frank who remained standing at the second chair. After clearing his throat a few times I realized he was holding out the chair, as if he was with, say, a lady. A lady who would wait for someone to offer a seat and pull out the chair!
Blimey, Capt'n! I'm but a simple street urchin, sellin' flowers. Oh! Wouldn't it be loverly?
So what on EARTH has happened to me that this basic courtesy is so foreign, that he might as well have uttered it in Sanskrit.
I am also flummoxed by his insistence on opening doors for me. I pop out of the car like a jack-in-the-box, ready to flee as if the vehicle is on fire. After doing so 3-4 times in one day, Frank gamely trotted around to my side of the vehicle and, quick as a bunny, shut the door before I swung my legs out. "What's the hurry, honey?" he intoned in that sweet Texas accent as he politely opened the door for me.
I'd like to blame my ex-husband for my being conditioned to not expect this type of chivalrous behaviour, but I fear it goes back much further. I remember my parents fighting on a similar topic. "You never open doors for me!" my mother yelled. "How can I ... you're always 10 steps ahead of me!" my father replied. I like to think we make our own destiny, and to blame an ex or our parents is a cop out.
Someday, I hope I can learn to delete the past, as easily as deleting those forgotten names from my cell phone.
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