April 14, 2007

No News is Probably Good News

Between work and school, I haven't had time for male-related... well, anything. Except that creepy old bald guy who came in to the restaurant I work at with his friend after a jog, in sweaty jogging shorts, with sweat pooring out of his bald little head. Ick. Look, I love a good run/workout as much as anyone, but hit the showers, then the bistros. In that order. Seriously.

Since FF sent a text message
along with his infamous email that asked very casually "what's your week like?" I replied to that, and told him I was busy with School Project XYZ, to which he answered "boo" (but understood, as we'd discussed said project before and he knows I can't help but devote all my time to it). I didn't respond to his e-mail, which was sort of the full-length version of the text, since the text answered the e-mail's underlying question anyhow and another "no, busy this week," would be redundant.

BTW, can I just say that even if I liked this guy, the fact that he sent me both a text and an e-mail with the same content, I'd be a little annoyed at his overwhelming desperation to get ahold of me. Though the e-mail was more detailed and mentioned the word "date" whereas the text was vague, the idea that he couldn't wait for me to reply to one or the other and had to sent both is in itself a bit annoying.

Then again, if I really liked him, I'd probably take up my usual habit of thinking all his obnoxious traits were "cute" and "endearing" until I came to my senses months later.

The point is, I'm not replying to the e-mail. Next time he asks me out--assuming his sweetheart gay roommate doesn't read the e-mail and clue him in on the subtext--I'll be clear. "I don't like you that way," I'll say.

Anyhow, like I said, nothing new to report - except I am horrid at sticking to diets, especially with pizza in the room - but I was sick of starring at the same post.

Edit: Oh, and Kurt Vonnegut died. I wrote his obit for my school paper, but seriously, I am sadder to know he is no longer in this world. When Douglas Adams died, I carried a towel to school. Adams was young and that was sort of tragic; Vonnegut was old. And yet, he represented mindfulness and cleverness in a world gone mad; there is a literary gap without him. His books helped me get through high school. Slapstick, especially, and many of his short stories, were much-needed satires of the world. He was a champion for freedom of literature and admired librarians more than politicians, a trait I think more of us should emulate. He hated the semi-colon; I love it. So we can disagree on that. God Bless You, Mr. Vonnegut.

April 9, 2007

Apparently I Do Have to Spell It O-U-T

So the situation that I thought had been resolved apparently wasn't.

This became clear tonight when I opened my e-mail and found a letter from Friend's Friend. In it, he asks what my week is like and, well, see for yourself. He writes:

I'd like to either buy you lunch or cook you dinner, under a date-ish pretext since last time we were just hanging out.

And I was floored. Because I thought we were at that level of understanding. Apparently not. I explained the situation to male friend. "Is there anything a girl can do -- short of spelling it out for you in tiny words -- that would indicate you are never getting in her pants?" My friend said some guys can take a hint, but many do in fact live in a state of constant optimism.

Which is understandable to me. I don't pretend to understand guys and lord knows us women are great at giving out mixed signals. Like how us "hanging out" signaled to FF that I liked him. But I thought the whole post-kiss e-mails sort of cleared that up. Here's what I wrote to him after the kiss-attempt:

"The truth is I'm sort of a happy, flirty person and I tend to be all giggly and happy with everyone, which if you've only met me a few times might give the wrong impression. I'm sorry I may have led you on?"

My guy friend noted that while this implies I only like him as a friend--and most people would get it--obviously FF is a bit stubborn. Or slow. Something like that. "You'll have to come out and say, 'I only like you as a friend,'" he told me.

Apparently so. But how annoying. I know us girls are confusing, but when I am appalled at your attempt to kiss me and then send you a letter explaining that I am SORRY if I LED YOU ON, it should be more than clear how I feel about you.

Right? Right? GAH!

April 4, 2007

An Update - It All Floats On Okay

So I got an e-mail from Friend's Friend. For a day or so, I was afraid to open it, horrified at being scolding for "leading him on" and possibly using words like "slut" and "cock tease." But it was not that sort of e-mail.

He is obviously the more mature one.

In fact, the e-mail was nice. He says that he had fun and doesn't regret "liking me" or kissing me. He just regrets how defensively he acted, which honestly I don't remember. Pot + Booze = InstaBlackOut for me, so though I remember rejecting him, I don't remember his reaction being weird or defensive or odd.

I sent him a nice letter back, that I had fun too, and that booze and pot leads to random kissing and acting stupid, and apologized if I was a jerk.

Since he emphasized that he had a great time up until then, I'm hoping we can still be friends. And hey, who knows? Maybe in a year or so, I'll fall head over heels for him and by then he'll have a girlfriend and I'll be kicking myself. That'd be my luck.

April 2, 2007

She's Just Not That Into You

In an attempt to assauge the mild guilt over blowing off a potential friend, I related the story to several female friends. All of them came to the same conclusion: guys do not understand girls. No, I shouldn't have agreed to go to his place when my only motive was to kick his ass MarioKart and had no desire to make out. It sent the wrong message. But women are good at sending mixed messages, because to us it is not really that mixed.

We like you. As a friend. On paper, we'd like you a lot more, but there's either a lack of attraction or a lack of chemistry that we just can't get past. Sorry.

Wanna hear a secret, men, that will blow your minds?

Women are often willing to go on a second or third date with a guy they don't like. Why? Because if on paper we are compatible and all that's lacking is attraction or chemistry, we see potential. Not potential to change the guy, but potential for attraction to grow, for sparks to kindle.

Most of us are not attempting to lead you on. We just want to be sure there's nothing before we end it for good. Sometimes we immediately find guys attractive. Other times, it takes weeks or even years of knowing a guy before we really fall for them. No one expects you to wait around that long, but if there might be a chance we want to try it out.

Sadly, this leads to various third-date "nope it's not happening" situations that men loathe. "But she was so flirty, so fun!" they'll say. Maybe so, but she's decided you are only compatible as friends. She likes you as a person, enjoys your company, and laughs at your jokes. But for whatever reason, she doesn't want your tongue in her mouth. Get over it.

It maybe more obvious when a guy "is just not that into" girls. Guys typically won't go on a first date with a girl they're not attracted to (unless it is a blind date or online date situation). Sorry we're more difficult, guys, but it's not that complicated. We give ourselves multiple chances to reevaluate our feelings or attraction level and if nothing changes, it ain't gonna happen.

So there's my two cents. Feel free to chime in.

March 30, 2007

Spring Break Brokenhearted

So yesterday, after blowing him off time and time again, I finally hung out with Friend's Friend again. Hey, it's Spring Break! We were just going to drink beer and play games. Like, you know, Scrabble and Trivial Pursuit. I wasn't even sure if was a date, since I hadn't actually seen him in months and it didn't have a "date"-like feel. Man, I have no idea what gets into my head to make me think those kinds of things.

I should have been upfront. I should have immediately said something about being friends and indicating my lack of interest (perhaps made out with that cute guy reading at the bar) but I didn't. A few gallons of beer later, I even agreed to go to his apartment. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME? Everyone knows do not go to the place of a guy you don't like in that way. The Villiage Idiot could tell me that except apparently I'm the idiot.

But to be fair, I was drunk. Not a strong defense but true. And it was to play MarioKart. So there was like, a plan. His roommate was there, too. The three of us hung out, drank, smoked a little pot, ate some pizza. Until his roomie went to bed (that jerk) and FF decided to kiss me. Naturally I was taken aback, having been lulled into a false sense of friendship-security. At first I mumbled something about "hanging as friends" to which he (rightly) got angry.

"You knew I liked you," he said.

Well, yeah, and I guess I didn't do much to let him know I wasn't interested. I am the Queen of Mixed Signals. I apologized and called a cab, at which point I made the bigger mistake: I started explaining that I am a jerk, that I'm selfish, that I'm not in a place for a boyfriend because I'm focused on my internship across the country, etc. etc.

It's all pretty fuzzy from there, along with his very unhappy reaction to hearing my babbling "you're better off without me" speech. I may have mentioned that I wasn't attracted to him, I honestly don't remember.

So there. Anyone who's still reading this blog can clearly see why I'm still single: I'm an asshole.

I feel guilty, of course, but it is not the soul-crushing guilt that weighs on your shoulders and makes your stomach hurt all day. It is a mild, lighter guilt that I wasn't upfront and honest right away and that I'm sure he feels like a fool because of it.

Next time I'm just telling him I'm gay.

March 15, 2007

These Days

I have not posted in a while because I have nothing to post. No dates, no crushes, no funny e-mails from idiots.

I think this dating blog might just fizzle out before I ever truly get it started. Last week I met one of my heroes and got some great advice about getting my dream job, which sent me into a career-motivated spiral.

At the start of the year, I thought I was ready to really get down to dating business and get a boyfriend if it meant a year of bad dates and I figured this blog would be a good catharsis. But suddenly, I couldn't care less if I had a man in my life. I'm so excited about school and the future and my possible internship in New York that having a boyfriend has fallen to the bottom of the priority list.

Of course, I've heard that when you stop looking for those sorts of things is when they have the nasty habit of showing up. To that end, if anything does happen, I'll gladly share.

This isn't a "hey, I'm going on hiatus" note. It's just a "hey, sorry, I haven't had much to say and don't know when I will" type deal.

My favorite song this week is These Days by Mates of State (I think it might be a cover?). Lyrics: "I had a lover / I don't think I'll risk another these days." Good stuff.

On a good note, I haven't been this happy for a long time. It's been a great month and I finally feel like I'm headed in the right direction.

March 5, 2007

Ill Repute

No dating news because - get this! - I'm sick. Chicken Soup and Kleenex sick. NyQuil and Couch Naps sick.

I felt it coming on all weekend, especially after some girlfriends (Blaine and Cherry) and I drank a pitcher too many at a local pub to celebrate...errr... well, I'm sure it was something. Maybe the fact that the tree of us hadn't been out together in a while. (Blaine, Cherry, and I always manage to get into trouble whenever we all go out together. Once we made out with a table of Canadian tourists. Another time we crashed a corporate bank party. It's always fun trouble but it hurts the next day.) This time, Cherry lost her cellphone. I went home after buying a six pack from the corner market-- the one where I could crawl in and still have them sell me booze. Then I broke a bottle all over my kitchen, which is a sign I was too drunk to drink it. I cut my toe.

I was a little hungover from the Friday night debauchery, but then Saturday night was a friend's birthday. We went to a swanky restaurant, drank swanky over-priced martinis, and then moved the party to a bar where we continued to drink for hours, which I'm sure didn't help matters. But it was her birthday, what're you gonna do? I couldn't exactly ask her to reschedule.

No guys on the horizon, although I saw DJ at school today. Sadly it was in passing. I asked how he was, he said good. "How are you doing?" he asked. "Pretty good," I said, and then as I left I was kicking myself for not saying 'Pretty Well' which would have been gramatically correct. Ugh. Feel like a total moron now, but I'm sick and the brain is foggy.