When You Most Expect It

Something that I've over and over again since being re-single is that "love comes when you least expect it."  The more I hear it, the more annoyed I become with the phrase.  Like, REALLY annoyed.   As in, don't ever say that to me or you might get a combo side-eye, duck lip face back at you.  You're meaning to say that if I simply let go (and let God) that love will somehow find me?  *gasp*  Is it that simple?  And here I was, making it ever so complicated.

I don't think this turn of phrase is accurate.  Let me tell you why.

Sure, finding love is can be hard and complicated, but, much like anything you want to be successful at, getting into a successful relationship involves work.  Let's be honest here - you can't just sit on your couch, eat ice cream, watch repeats of all the Real Housewives franchises (i.e. my Monday nights) and expect to find love.  You have to put yourself out there, in whatever capacity that is.  And it doesn't mean there isn't an expectation of love necessarily, it's simply a willingness to allow yourself to believe in love and attempt to experience it. 

So, what does that look like?  Maybe it means you're seeking love out.  Maybe it means that you are going on dates.  Maybe it's putting a profile up on a dating website. Maybe it's letting your friends know that you're ready to meet someone.  Maybe it means that you don't shy away from talking to that cutie across the room. 

Maybe it means you try.

Don't get me wrong, I understand the idea behind the phrase.  If you are constantly looking for someone to fill a void, the right person doesn't seem to appear.  Conversely, if you fill your life with other things like friends, family, or hobbies, you find that you don't need a relationship to feel fulfilled.  Sometimes, love comes in a package you weren't anticipating. That's truth.  

But here's a critical point I feel is missing from this harsh phrase:  I think that with the self-assurance of not needing a partner comes a confidence that is exceedingly attractive.  You're focused on yourself and your happiness - you don't need someone else to provide that for you.  That's sexy.  That takes the pressure off of someone you date.  They see that as a sign of self-reliance and want to be a part of what your already full life.  

What you shouldn't expect is for Cupid to drop the love of your life at your front door.  You shouldn't expect love to come out of every date or every person you meet.  You shouldn't expect love to make you complete.

Love comes when it comes. It can blindside you or you can see it coming right for you.  It's unpredictable - that's why love is so great.

So, go ahead and expect love.  It'll come, if you're ready.

~j  

The Grass Isn't Always Greener

Today's blog entry is special!  It's written by my friend Sam, who I have known since high school.  He is funny, energetic, sweet, gregarious and adorable, but he's having some trouble in the dating world too.  He is a reminder that I'm not the only single person out there (even though it seems like it sometimes) and dating isn't easier just because you happen to have a Y chromosome.  I hope you enjoy Sam's thoughts as much as I did! 

Here's what Sam has to say today:

Dating in the straight world is hard, but take it from me, a card-carrying citizen of Gay Town, dating among gay men is just as brutal. It takes just as much dedication, openness, vulnerability and patience as dating among the heterosexuals. Just like our straight brethren, we gays also go on bad dates, make silly jokes and wonder why our date isn’t laughing, and meet people who look good on paper but turn out to be complete jerks.

Recently, though, I was reminded of one key element in gay relationships that I believe to be different than in heterosexual relationships: men are extremely visual. I believe men scrutinize a woman’s appearance, body, hair, face, etc., but I believe women are generally a little more forgiving of a less-than-perfect male physique. With gay men, though, there are two men sizing each other up, and in my experience it is less likely that gay men are as forgiving as our female counterparts to pardon someone who falls somewhere south of an Adonis.

Several gay men want a guy who is, at worst, a 9 out of 10. Many gay men want a tall, broad, muscular stud with biceps for days, six pack abs, and toned butt cheeks that can crack walnuts. There’s no room for body fat, and by gum, you better wear clothes that cling to and accentuate every inch of that glorious body. In short, the body reigns supreme. If you have jacked up teeth and serve stank face but your body is a perfect 10, many guys will date you for your body alone. I can’t tell you how many Butterfaces I’ve seen getting hit on by other guys simply because of their chiseled physique.

Now this idea that gay men are extremely visual is nothing shocking. I’ve always known that men are visual. I am too. I mean, you have to at least have some sort of visual attraction to the person, or at least that’s my experience. But a quick look at some of the people I’ve dated over the years shows I’m not discriminatory of a good looking gentleman who has a little extra loving on his body.

However, the days of my youth are limited and I am now facing challenges that I never had to worry about previously. Most recently, I learned that my body was the challenge standing in the way of a date with a certain someone.

I used to have a slight crush on a guy whom we’ll call C, and he happens to work at the same salon where I get my haircut. I was making my regular visit to my stylist, Rigo, and the subject came up that I used to have a crush on C. Little did I know, Rigo, armed with the knowledge of my former crush was going to play matchmaker after I left the salon. A few hours after I left, I got a text message from C saying that he honestly loves being single but he would like to be great friends. At this point in time, the text message was completely out of the blue, but I just replied with a simple, “Oh, of course! I’d love that!” No harm, no foul.

Fast forward to the next time I got my haircut, I was telling Rigo how everything had gone down and that I was slightly embarrassed but more or less confused why C was even texting me to begin with…and that’s when it happened. Rigo, after asking if I wanted the honest truth, said that he approached C about my former crush, and the response was “Well…he’s kinda gained a little weight over the years.”

Jawdrop.

Now, I’ve got to put things in comparison. C met me when I was 19, and I am now 29. I look *nothing* like I did at 19 – THANK GOD! I was skinny beyond belief and my body hadn’t filled out yet. Sometimes when I look back at the photos of me during that time period, I wonder where my chin was. My face just looked angular, and my physique was only slightly better than an 8th grader at Boy Scout camp. I weighed around 185, and for a 6 foot 2 inch male with a size 13 foot, that’s a little on the lanky side. As the years passed, my body filled out to a solid 225 pounds, and although I probably won’t complain if I lost a little bit of body fat, I must say that I love my body so much more now than when I was 19. I look like a man now. I finally fill out a pair of jeans. I don’t have to dance around in the shower to get wet.

After a few days of soaking in C’s comment, I realized that he probably helped me out more than he hurt me. First off, I enjoy my body, and I enjoy the process of whipping it into top form. I’m not in what I would consider the best shape of my life, but I’m certainly not doing bad, and if I keep up with things, it’s only going to get better. Second, this body isn’t going to last forever. I can whip it into shape all I want, but when I’m in my twilight years, it’s going to sag and wrinkle and do all the other things that come with age. A lasting relationship cannot be built on a body alone because the body will eventually wither. Third, if C doesn’t like my body, then he did me a humongous favor by letting me know. If I had what I consider to be my “perfect” body, I’d probably shed about 15 pounds, but not much more than that…because once I cross that 15 pound mark, I start to look sickly. And inevitably, over the years, I’m going to have periods where I’m 15 pounds lighter and other periods where I’m 15 pounds heavier. But in the big picture, we’re talking about 15 pounds, which I think is just ridiculous if that’s the single criterion one is using to turn down a date. If 15 pounds will scare off a guy, then he isn’t someone I would want to date to begin with.

To summarize my lesson learned by this encounter, I will not let someone else define how I should feel about my looks – that is up to me alone. I will continue to work on the parts of my physique that I feel merit attention, and I will celebrate my current accomplishments and future successes. Further, I will refuse to let someone categorize me solely by my body. I have two degrees, a fabulous job, incredible friends, and the best family anyone could ask for. I’m ridiculously fun to be around, and I’m also easy to get to know and get along with. I am smart and funny, and I’m sharply focused on not taking myself too serious. I possess an unquenchable desire to squeeze the most enjoyment out of life possible. I’m the kind of person a guy would love to take home to meet their mother.

Frankly, if C is going to overstep all the great things about me for 15 pounds, then I really should thank him for auto-removing himself from the pool of people I actually would date. Onward and upward!

Let's Call It A Day

I've dated a few people (in case you weren't aware), but I'm not really good at remaining friends with them after the fact.  There are a couple who are an exception, but that's mainly because I was pretty good friends with them to begin with and so it wasn't weird to transition back to that afterward.  All the guys from my major relationships though?  We just don't talk. 

When there is a break-up, I need distance from the situation and that distance turns into never really talking again.  I'm positive I'm not the only one who does this either.  Honestly, I just can't fathom being close to someone I was in love with outside of a relationship.  I have to break the connection completely in order to heal and move on.  How do you remain friends with someone you cared so much for without going nuts? 

All of this talk is leading somewhere, don't worry!  See, I have this person who I dated on and off for a while, but it just never seemed to work out.  (Wait, let me rephrase that: it would NEVER work out, for a variety of reasons.)  We started kind of seeing each other when I needed a distraction from my life and he was looking for someone to listen to him.  It seemed easy.  Then it got complicated.  Feelings got involved, which I wasn't really ready for, and the circumstances surrounding the time we got to spend together started to make me a little crazy.  It just wasn't working.  After a small argument, we kind of stopped communicating. 

After a little time and a few apologizes, we seemed to pick up where we left off.  Then something happened and it ended again.  This cycle happened a few more times and it shouldn't have.  He had me on a bit of a yo-yo and I just went along with it because I thought he was important, when I should have save us both some time and ended it with finality.  Unfortunately, I cared about him, loved him too much to let it go and I would get lost in the spin again.  In hindsight, I feel like he would feel a bit needy or lonely and seek me out because I'm a little bit of a sucker.  I can't blame him for everything though, since I could have walked away or said no at any time - I just wasn't strong enough.

We tried being friends, but it seemed like he always initiated something during that friendship period.  That might have been wrong of him, but the fact is I didn't put a stop to it.

He and I haven't been around each other or even talked for a while, so I thought it was done.  Then, last week, I get a few flirty texts from him.  Later that same day, I find out that he's 'serious' with his girl.  Okay, now I'm confused.  He sends a few more texts, which I don't answer. 

Then he calls.

Guys, he wants to be friends!  He cares about me and doesn't want anything to feel weird!  He wants me to be normal around him!  Can't we just do that?

No.  No, we can't.

I had to talk about my feelings and everything y'all.  I detest that junk, but I was honest and told him that I needed some space.  I was confused about the whole situation and didn't know if I could really be around him and feel okay.  He didn't like that answer.  He reminded me that I been dating other people!  I had been doing the same thing he was!  I should just be able to do it!

The thing is, I'm not asking him to be my friend.  I'm not asking anything of him, except some distance.  I don't know what being his friend looks like.  I don't know what normal around him looks like.  I've tried both of those things only to be accused of ignoring him or being cold.  I'm not sure where to go from here and I need some time to figure that out.

After time, I'm sure that feelings dissipate, anger subsides, hurt recedes and real friendship blooms, but I'm not ready yet.  I need time.  Lots of it.  If he's unwilling to give me room to breathe, he's being completely unfair.  He wants a friendship on his terms, like he wanted a relationship on his terms.  It just doesn't work that way, guy.  It's got to be mutual, and right now, it isn't. 

~j

Ways I Fail at Dates: Vol. 3

Well, I've successfully gotten someone else to ask me out.  I know!  It's crazy, right?  I'm not exactly sure how I'm doing it, although I'm fairly sure it has to do with my clear awesomeness and extra humility.  Either that or he's feeling lonely and doesn't want to spend another Friday night alone, eating Ben and Jerry's and listening to the new Taylor Swift album on repeat.

In these pre-date moments, I usually pull back the curtain and show you guys my neurotic brain processes.  (I wrote about other ways I fail at dates here and here, in case you missed them!)  Don't worry, I'm going to do that today, but I also want to assure you kids that I'm going into the date like I go into life: with my head down and attempting to not make any sudden movements.  (Kidding!  I'll be delightful, smiley and semi self-effacing, like usual.)

I don't know how this one is going to go - I've been talking to this guy on and off for a few weeks and this is the first time that our schedules have aligned.  Maybe all this waiting let us get to know either other better - to be honest, I'm not nervous in the least.  This either makes me jaded or just confident in the fact that he knows me and is still interested after all this time.  We'll see how it goes!  (And by that, I mean I'll write about it on Monday.  You're welcome in advance.)

Now, on to the important stuff - here's a few more ways I fail at dates:

Attempted Seriousness

We all know I'm not a serious kind of person.  I mean, I know HOW to be serious and the importance of a true heart to heart conversation, but it just isn't my sweet spot.  (Yes, I have made a mental note to work on that, thankyouverymuch.)  I love to make people laugh and enjoy time spent with people where we talk about light-hearted things.  When the conversation moves out of these bounds, especially on the first few dates, I fall apart.

Like, how serious is this conversation going to get?  How much should I reveal?  I don't want to put all my business on the table, but I also want to give enough so it feels like I'm sharing.  I've never been good at gauging that kind of stuff on dates.  I think it's the first or second date jitters combined with my inability to understand men.   

And I tend to get competitive in serious stories.  Things like: "Oh, you broke your wrist in college? Well, I had to have emergency surgery and my parents had to drive 7 hours to get to the hospital." and "Oh, you had trouble in school? Well, I didn't. At all.  In fact, I had a 4.0 in grad school."  How frightfully unattractive.  I'm going to try not to do that today.

Dorkiness

I'm not a supreme dork.  I haven't seen all the Star Wars movies, I don't watch Doctor Who (I just don't get it!), I'm not sure what a Battlestar Galatica or a Cosplay is and I don't read graphic novels.  I do, however, speak in weird accents, get geeked out over certain TV shows, have a clumsy streak and snort when I laugh.  I'm kinda a dork...just a liiiiiitttllllee bit.  I know that you should be authentic during dates, but maybe I shouldn't reveal that I wikipedia every 'The Walking Dead' character, just yet.

Over-Agreeableness

I just took a personality profile that told me that my highest trait was being "agreeable."  Not to prove it's point, but I'm agreeable to that assessment.  I tend to go with the flow.  Some people might see this as being indecisive, but I view it as the ability to have a good time, no matter what I'm doing.  (And I'm crap at making decisions.)

Usually, this is a good thing, but occasionally, it gets me into trouble.  I agree to second dates where we're shooting giant guns or I say something dumb like, "Oh, sure! Bungee jumping sounds SO fun!  And so does diving with sharks! And so does all the ridiculously awful things you're suggesting we do sometime because they are 'adventurous'!"  BUNGEE JUMPING DOES NOT SOUND LIKE FUN.  I don't want my body attached to a glorified rubber band and then hurdle myself off of a perfectly good bridge in hopes that it snaps me back from the brink of death.  This is being TOO agreeable.  I need to learn to give myself boundaries.  I need to learn how to shut up!  

And for future reference, I'm not a thrill-seeker.  I am a mug of hot chocolate, blanket and comfy couch seeker.  I am a local band concert, followed by a hamburger seeker.  I am a funny movie and slice of pizza seeker - just to clear that up.

~j



 

My, How Times Have Changed

I just want to preface this entry by saying that I do, in fact, think and do other things besides date.  I promise!  I may write about dating (and nothing but), but I assure you, I don't just troll the Internet and scour the streets for dates wearing an 'I'm available' sandwich board...although that WOULD make for a good blog, wouldn't it?

Since I'm waist deep in this whole dating life, I found a shift in the men that are available for dating at this point.  Plainly, the most decent guys I come in contact with are A LOT older than I am.  Most of them have been married before and many of them have kids.  This is a hard mental adjustment.  I want to say, emphatically, I have absolutely no issue with any of the things I listed above, but when I sat down and actually thought about it, it's so different for me.

I mean, I'm meeting guys in the LATE 30's.  That's almost 40 guys.  I just had to make the transition to being 30 and now I'm thrust into this whole world of people who are 40?  They're established.  They have steady priorities.  They're more laid back.  They aren't going to like when I take a dare to get up on a table in the middle of a crowded place and sing a song.  (Notice how I'm avoiding saying: THEY'RE OLD.)  I'm not sure they'll get me.  I'm afraid I'm not grown up enough for them.

On the other side of the coin are guys who are in their mid-20's and somehow find me awesome.  I think this has a lot to do with my level of confidence, lack of shame/embarrassment and not caring one bit about what people think of me.  Girls (okay, MOST girls) their age are totally concerned with the wrong thing.  I'm different for them.  At the same time, they haven't gone through anything, they're just starting out.  I'm ready to move forward and they're just figure out what forward means for them.  We're not in the same place either.

So, I'm stuck.

The last time I was really dating I was in my mid-20's - everyone out there was kinda my age.  It was simple to find someone who was in your place in life, who wasn't jaded, who was willing to take a chance.  Now, not so may years later, everyone has a backstory, is far more cautious and is sometimes skeptical of love.  It's almost like a reversal; if you're still dating or you're having to get thrown back into the dating pool by the time you're in your 30's, you have dealt with a lot of stuff that makes you lose your appreciation for meeting new people.  It becomes a chore, more so than something fun.  You don't really want to spend time going on another bad date. 

The question is: where do I go? Up or down?  I think the answer is, I'll know it by the person, not by their age.  You can be young and jaded.  You can be old and hopeful.  It's dependent on the person, not their circumstances.  Awesomeness knows no age limit, so neither should I.

~j

What Is Wrong With You?

(Before I start today's entry can I admit something?  I can?  Good.  When I write these things, I almost always envision myself as Doogie Howser sitting at his early 90's computer, writing his diary.  Just had to get that out there.)

That admission may make what I'm about to say harder for me to defend, but so be it.  The guys I'm running into these days are weird.  And flaky.  And kinda jerky.  And don't realize how awful they sound.  It's a nice guy drought, y'all.  I must be going through the dating version of Death Valley.

Listen, I know I'm a little quirky, but I would consider myself a fairly regular person.  I'm not talking about only drinking almond milk or loving Dr. Who a little too much weird here - I'm talking about strangely acting, hot and cold, utterly unbelievable men. 

I know you're saying to yourself, 'Jeana, it can't be that bad! We know how you like to exaggerate for comedic effect.'  While the latter part is true, the fact remains that I've been surrounded by guys who don't think.  They started off as perfectly nice, interesting guys.  They ended up being good stories I can relate to you, so I guess someone wins here!

The Friend of a Not-So-Close Friend

I had this group of friends I was really close with until some of them moved away.  After the core people left, those of us left drifted apart a bit.  I kept up with everyone on Facebook (read: I stalked them when I was bored), but I never really saw them.  Interestingly enough, I got a random message from a friend of one of these "friends by association" one afternoon.  I knew a little about him, mostly bad stuff to be honest, but I decided to give him a chance because I would want people to do the same for me.  (The lesson here is I'm TOO nice and I should have listened to what people said.)

We started texting occasionally and I found myself a little interested.  One night invited me to hang out and I agreed, even though I had just gone running and looked a hot mess.  I plopped on some deodorant, put back on my work clothes and headed over.  One of his friends happened to show up and relayed some interesting information to me: this guy had just broken up with his girlfriend THAT VERY DAY. So, the whole time he was texting me, he had been dating someone.  Yup.  My feelings weren't hurt or anything, but I did think it was indicative of his character and it was a major turn-off.  Needless to say, I'm not interested in him anymore.

Mr. Chip on His Shoulder

I think the name gives it away, but this guy was so bitter about everything!  The World Series, his work schedule, his old job, his past loves - anything he could have a problem with, he did.  He told me he broke up with his girlfriend, WHO MOVED TO TOWN FOR HIM because he just didn't like her anymore.  I wasn't sure about this guy at all, but, again, I gave him the benefit of the doubt.   

Until I heard something that would make me think, where have I gone wrong in this life?  During a quick conversation one morning, he told me that he would maybe "add me to the list of people [he's] spoiling" that was "currently [a list] of two."  I'm sorry?  Were you trying to be cute here or did you actually just tell me that you have other women that you might be dating that you felt the need to inform me of?  I don't care that you're dating around - I mean, I am too - but is it really necessary for you to tell me that information?  No.  And it kinda makes you look like a jerk.

The Kid

I hesitated even writing about this one, because I know he occasionally glances at this, but I'm not going to let his possible reading prevent me from telling you guys.  Around my birthday I went on a few dates with this guy who's a little bit younger than me - hence the nickname "The Kid."  He seemed super nice, was terribly cute and seemed pretty into everything I had going on (although, I can't blame him on that part!).  The day after my birthday, he told me that he felt overwhelmed with our situation (mind you, we'd been on THREE dates) and that he couldn't see me anymore.  Now, this bummed me out, but those were his feelings and I'm not going to try to talk someone into or out of anything.  I just let it go and chalked it up to experience.

I moved on, but a few weeks ago he texted me and told me he had messed up.  I didn't want to be a jerk, so I had lunch with him, skeptical, but I understood where he was coming from.  He seemed to be more sure this time and the whole thing seemed romantic to me.  We started talking and hanging out a little and I was enjoying myself!  And what happened?  He bailed on me again.  He apologized and said he needed to get himself together.  Okay.  <-That was literally my response.  I'm confused on this one.  I'm not sure what happened, but I know it doesn't have to do with me.  And if it does, then I really need to adjust my self-perception.

My Conclusions

1. I must need to learn something, otherwise why would I be meeting these people?
2. I am entirely too nice.
3. I need to have a better filtering system.
4. I should have my friends pick out my dates, because they have to be able to do better than me.

~j

I Don't Have Time For This

It's been a while since my last post, I know, but life has been busy.  Between work, friends, family, personal obligations and pumping up my running schedule, I don't have a lot of time to spare.  And I'm NOT complaining - I love it!  My life is really full these days.

With my life being so busy, I commented aloud to a friend about how I couldn't even find time to have a date, much less have a boyfriend.  At some point, I started to think about what would happen if I tried to actually date someone.  As in, really trying to have a legitimate relationship.  How would I ever fit them into my already packed life?  Do I even have time to invest in a relationship right now?  I feel like I don't have a lot of time for myself, so where would I carve out time for someone else? 

I asked myself about 17,000 variations of those questions before I came to the conclusion that if something is important to you, you make time for it.  It's pretty simple that way.  If someone comes into my life that is just amazing, why wouldn't I make the effort to spend time with me?  It's silly to think I would do otherwise.  Would I really let someone great get away, simply because I have to run one less day a week?  No, of course not.  

I'm really selfish with my time right now - but it's because I can be. I can do what I want to, when I want to and not have to feel guilty about it. I don't have to run my plans by anyone, I don't have to schedule around someone else's plans, I don't have to consider anyone but myself.  It's kind of awesome, I must say.  At the same time, it gets a little old doing everything by yourself.  There has to be a balance.

What occurred to me a little later is that I may be hiding behind the fact that I'm so busy in an effort to try and avoid dating.  If I'm too busy, I don't have to enter into the competitive dating world fully.  I can just blame the fact that I don't have anyone important in my life on my active schedule.  Being too overcommitted is something that people understand!  The excuses just go from there: How could I ever fit in one more thing?  It's understandable that I want to wait for everything to settle down before adding another piece to the puzzle.  And it's only fair to the person I might date - they need me to be present!  I'm just making up more reasons not to try. 

If I'm serious about finding a partner, I have to be a partner.  I should be able to make time for someone easily, especially if they go to the trouble to making time for me.  It's a give and take - I can't just take and expect that everyone is going to give (even though that would be nice, right?).  I can't hide behind the fact that I'm busy to save myself from having to put myself out there.  If they're worth me shuffling around my commitments, I'll know it.  Until then, I'm doing what I want, because, well, I can.

~j

The World Wide Dating Web

I've got to confess something to you guys - I have delved into the world of online dating.  I'm taking it seriously too.  There are so many reasons behind it, but I think the simplest of those is the fact that I just don't meet very many new people.  Of those I do meet, only a small portion of those are guys, and of those, an even smaller portion are single.  I needed a bigger pond from which to fish.  Building a profile on a trusted site was easy and made me take a step of my ever-narrowing comfort zone.

This whole online dating thing is kinda crazy.  At first, I was super overwhelmed.  THERE ARE SO MANY GUYS! AND THEY ARE ALL SINGLE!  You have to sift through so much information looking for a suitable match.  (By the way, people really put a lot of information in their little profiles - but that is totally helpful.  You find out a lot of stuff and get a feeling for their personality.)

Once you have somehow located someone you are remotely interested in, you send them a message.  Then you wait.  If you're lucky, you may get a message back.  Then whole back and forth communication starts and you're trying to be the best version of yourself, but somehow you find your dorky little habits creeping in.  And if you're super lucky, you might actually get a date.

There are plenty of downsides though.  See the thing is, you can see people who view your profile.  So, these are guys who looked at the pictures you've painstakingly cropped and the answers to questions you spent an afternoon pouring over, choosing just the right words and decided, "Nah."  I'm okay with it, but I'd rather not even see that part.  I don't really need to know that.  I really could go the rest of my life and not see who's 'viewed me.' Truly.

What's even worse than that is when someone blocks you and you haven't even spoken to them.  So, not only can I see that you have viewed me, but then it's followed up by a block.  A definitive statement that says, "I no likey you."  They could simply just overlook me, but they wanted to make sure I was out of their match zone.  Harsh.  In the end, I don't really care, because they are clearly not the person I'm supposed to end up with, but it is a little shock to the ego, you know?

Then there are those guys you see and think, "WOWZA, he's great!," and send a message, but that message never gets answered.  Or you're talking to someone and then the messages just stop - after which you're left to contemplate where exactly you went wrong.  An internal conversation like this usually happens after: 'What did I say?  Was it my extended speech on the quality of programs on PBS and AMC?  Or maybe it was my habit of using already overused catch-phrases? I would ask, but we all know I'm not going to do that.  Blerg.'

Even with all those negatives, online dating simplifies everything in general.  You don't have to ask yourself if someone you just met thinks you're dateable.  If someone is interested, it's uncomplicated: he just send me a little message.  If he doesn't, at least I haven't spent countless hours of my life (and my friend's lives, recounting stories to them) wondering if he 'like likes' me.  It's non-confrontational, informal and laid back.  I kind like/love it.

Also, I'm sure it's going to give me great stories for the blog.  You're welcome in advance.

~j

The Let-Down

I've got to be honest, the past two weeks have been chock full of bummers and gnarly happenings.  It just seems like when I think the bad stuff is done, it starts anew.  I know I'm not the only one to feel this way either.  Putting it in perspective though, it's not half of what some people have to deal with and I should be grateful for that.  Right?  Right.  I just need to get over the hump.

The good news is I've learned a few things and I'm feeling pretty good about life.  The only thing that remains on my plate?  Having to have a real, actual conversation with someone about how I'm not interested in dating them.

I've tried dropping hints, talked about going on other dates, referred to him as a friend and nothing has dissuaded him. (Now, I can't blame him for that, of course. It is ME he's going after.)  I've never been in this situation before.  I'm not even sure where to start.  How do you say something like to someone?

Here's a little background about the situation without giving too much away:

He's a friend of a friend and he's really, incredibly nice.  Like REALLY nice.  He's successful, is stable and is pretty fun to be around.  We had been talking, but I never got the inclination that he was interested in me in that way.  (I was totally fine with that, by the way, because I wasn't really attracted to him.)  It wasn't until last week when we hung out that I got the feeling he would like to hang out as more than friends.  The clue?, I can hear you ask.  Oh, just the fact he kept giving me little touches. And HE TRIED TO KISS ME.  I did a quick side-step, side-hug move that prevented him from the bullseye (i.e. my face), but it was a close one kids.  Too close.

I know what you're thinking - Jeana, you said he was nice!  He has a great job!  And a house!  Well, gentle reader, that means bupkis if you aren't romantically interested in the person.  It really is too bad, but that is the way it is.  I really tried to see myself with this guy and just couldn't.  It's the classic 'good on paper' scenario: he's fantastic and perfect in list form, but he's just not my person. 

While I would just like to pretend this issue isn't really an issue, the fact remains I have to say something.  It's unkind not to at this point.  I don't want him to feel like he's been led on (something I am NOT doing) and I definitely don't want him to waste his time.  I really do want to be friends with this guy and that can't happen if I keep letting this drag out. 

These days, it seems like we just let situations like this just drag on and on.  There's a way to tell someone that you just aren't interested without being callous or uncaring. 

But it's not just that fear of having to have a conversation about real stuff that prevents us from talking about it, is it?  No, it isn't.  We also like the attention, even if it's from the wrong person.  It's nice having someone pay you a compliment, it boosts your ego a little to know that someone out there wants you.  It's natural to like that, but at some point it's cruel.

I don't want to be mean, but I don't want to hide behind the idea that telling him he's barking up the wrong tree is unkind.  (I'll probably phrase that differently, just FYI.)  This non-confrontational gal is going to have to buck up and be totally honest.  I think I'm going to say exactly what I would want someone to say to me.  I also think I'll probably want to throw up.  Sure, it may be uncomfortable for me, but in the long run it's better that I'm just forthcoming. 

Wish me luck.
~j

Can I Label You Now?

While I'm not even close to being at a stage to call anyone my boyfriend, I have a few friends that are at that awkward stage in their relationship where they have to have the dreaded DTR conversation.  Yes, they feel like it's time to define the relationship.  Are we dating?  Are we exclusively dating?  Are you my boyfriend/girlfriend?  Do we go live with this on Facebook?  Can I tweet about it?

So many questions.

You see all these movies or TV shows where the guy takes the female protagonist to some event and introduces her as his girlfriend. Naturally, she is taken aback and has a conversation with her friends like, "I didn't know he thought of me like that.  We've never discussed it!"  Secretly, though, she's written in her diary the week before how the ambiguity of the non-relationship is giving her heart palpitations and is going through various scenarios in her head on how she can bring in up "casually."

Those conversations are not easy to have.  I've been lucky in that regard, since I usually find someone I like to hang out with and it just evolves into a relationship, which sort of defines itself.  I like the simplicity of that, the natural agreement to be exclusive - there isn't a push and pull to it.  I've never had to guess where I stand and if I did, I would probably be a puddle of self-doubt and confusion and annoy all my friends. 

I'm not even sure how I would broach the topic.  I am, as I have said before, a chicken.  I would be completely incapable of talking.  I would stutter, start and stop and then probably give up.  (Confrontation isn't my strong suit.)  I would go on about my life in this are we or aren't we limbo until he says something.  And if he never said anything?  Well, as much as I'd say I would just move on or be spurred to action, I would probably just be all romantic and hopeful that we would somehow work out and be together until the end of time.  *Cut to him getting married to another chick*

Maybe there is something to this whole "definition" thing.  I've never been one to label anything, but I can understand and appreciate that some people need that definitive statement from the person they are seeing.  It makes it easier to know where you are going, if you know what exactly you are.

~j

First (and Maybe Last) Impressions

First off, I know many of you are wondering how my date last night went.  (Okay, like, three of you.)  If I'm being honest, I'm not sure about how it went.  I had a little nervous chatter before the date (evidence of which can be found on Twitter), but I sucked it up.  The date itself was great.  We talked and laughed and I really did enjoy myself and felt comfortable, but I don't know how he felt.  Oh, sweet mystery of life!  I could just ask him, however I'd rather fixate and make myself crazy. 

For some, the whole joy of dating is the excitement and anticipation of the first date.

Forget. That.   

First dates are nerve-wracking, sometime uncomfortable and a source for my increasingly present heartburn.  My butterflies somehow turn into bats.  What would have been a cute gesture turns into an awkward hand motion that knocks my drink onto his pants. I snort and sneeze like a machine gun and laugh entirely too hard/loud.  Food lodges itself in my teeth with inextractable force.  I start to tell a story I think is funny and forget the humorous part, so it just turns into a tale about how I was made fun of in grade school and woe is me.  While listening to my date, I zone out thinking about how I look at this precise moment and tune back in after he asks a question, which I will inevitably answer incorrectly.  I just want to get the first date over with, because then there is a possible second date where I can feel a bit more relaxed.

I have to admit, I might exaggerate a little about my nervousness for comedic effort, but I really was jittery yesterday.  I really did have a little bit of a freak out in the minutes leading up to actually going into the restaurant. I'm not sure what caused my anxiety, because, as it turns out, everything went just fine.  I was, as many people suggested, just myself and nothing went terribly wrong.  I can't ask for much more than that.

~j

Ways I Fail at Dates: Vol. 2

Well, I have somehow tricked someone into asking me on a date.  I'm exceptionally nervous because this guy is a little older and pretty much has his life together, while I'm still trying to figure everything out.  I wrote a while ago about the ways I fail at dates and we all know how I like to over think everything, so I extended the list.  Here is the addendum:

Intensity
There are certain things that I get really intense about when I discuss them.  And sometimes those things are kind of unimportant.  And sometimes that comes off as being a little bit crazy.  I mean, just a little bit, not like boil your kid's rabbit crazy, but like, "Whoa, if she's this amped up just talking about this movie, I wonder what she'll be like about something that actually matters."  You either really like that (chances: 1 in 10,000) or you don't (chances: everyone else).  There is a fine line between being passionate and being fanatical.

Over-Sensitivity
We all know that I am just a wee bit sensitive.  Sometimes someone can say something completely unrelated to me and I take it personally.  This means bad news when it comes to dating.  For instance, if someone makes a comment about my completely ridiculous loud laugh, I worry that it's annoying, try not to laugh for the rest of the night, then all my dates substandard jokes (in comparison to mine, of course) fall flat, then no one is having fun anymore, then my date goes home thinking, "What just happened?" and then I'm still alone.  (Sidenote: That was the greatest run-on sentence I've ever written.  Let's take a moment of reflection for it.)  This oversensitivity is often complimented by my:

Self-Consciousness
I'm a pretty confident person about many things, but, like most girls, I do worry that I don't measure up physically.  This issue is exacerbated by a first date. 

Here is an excerpt from my brain during a date:  What does my hair look like?  Am I talking to much about my love for Diet Pepsi and/or Downton Abbey and/or ballet flats and/or cardigans?  Is the pimple that somehow grew out of my chin overnight still covered by the entire stick of concealer I used?  Oh, oh, oh - is he looking at the pimple now? I can't talk, cause if I do my chin will move and then the pimple will be more obvious.  What did he just ask?  Maybe I'll just take another bite of this food and buy some time.  And, of course the food would fall down my shirt.  Of course.  

And that, my friends, is only the beginning.

Maybe what I'll focus on is the fact that I was so naturally charming that this guy asked me out.  ON PURPOSE.  I'm not sure you're taking the journey with me, so let me repeat - I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING BUT BE MY DELIGHTFUL SELF and he asked me out.  He's clearly a genius and has incredible taste.  He likes me already, I don't have to go in and try to win him over.  The battle is already won - now I just have to translate that in a one-on-one atmosphere. 

Now, if you'll excuse me I have to cover up a pimple and find a paper bag to breathe in.

~j

No Date For You!

There are worse things I can be than 30 and unmarried, right?  Let's name some: a serial killer, a terrorist, a thief, a liar, a dead person.  Those are way worse, but I guess maybe I'm underestimating the weight of my new age and my relationship status (or lack thereof).

I am turning into a pariah.

Okay, okay, it's not all that harsh, but I'm the last of a dying breed.  In certain circles, I'm an anomaly.  (I have to admit, most of my closest friends are married and many of them have children.  And good for them!  I'm a little envious!)  The other day, someone older told me that I need to date everyone and anyone, because time is of the essence.

What in the what?  Are you for serious?

Just because I want to find a partner doesn't mean I shouldn't have standards.  It certainly doesn't mean I should go out on date with someone I don't want to - if I did that my dance card would be full of old, hairy men and young guys with no job and a really bad McDonald's habit.  There must be dealbreakers.  That comment drove me to compile a list of my 'dealbreakers.'

I will probably not date you if:

• You aren't close with your family, for no good reason.
• You are too close with your family.
• You are void of personality.
• See also: a sense of humor
• You smell like day old bread, rotting garbage, and/or like you haven't showered since 9th grade.
• You bear any resemblance to the lead singer of Nickleback, my father or any of the members of One Direction.
• You listen to and like Nickleback and/or Creed and/or any other type of grandpa rock.
• You don't get my references to not-so-obscure 80's movie - this probably means you are too young to date me.
• You wear white tennis shoes.
• See also: skinny jeans.
• See also: cowboy hats, if you are not a cowboy.
• See also: eyeliner, if you are not a rock star.
• See also: tapered jeans.
• See also: jeans with overly embroidered pockets.
• See also: women's clothing.
• You use more skin products than I.  (Nearly impossible, so I'm giving a wide berth here.)
• You are rude, disrespectful or otherwise in need of an etiquette class.
• You have dated anyone I know for longer than 3 months.
• You have multiple children by a variety of women.
• You do not laugh at my jokes.  I am funny.  You should laugh.
• You cyberstalk me.
• You quote me...to me.

That isn't a lot NOT to ask for, is it?  I don't think so either.  I'm glad you agree.

~j

In The Land of Blood and Thirty

Today is my 30th birthday. 

Yay?

I'm excited because birthdays can be fun and I have the distinct feeling that is one is going to be extra great.  On the other hand, I'm getting a little bit contemplative.  I had this idea of what my life might look like at 30 when I was younger and nothing is really like I thought it would be, but that's not necessarily bad.  There is a reason why my life is like it is and am I ever grateful for that.

I woke up this morning feeling no different, but the fact is guys, I'm really getting old.  It's true.  I'm not young anymore.  I mean, I still feel young-ish, but I'm an actual responsible adult and choices I make now are typically thought out and premeditated.  When I was younger I didn't give a care!  Now, I think about the consequences and rewards.  When did I become this person?  I guess somewhere between 20 and 30 I actually learned something that resembles maturity. 

I drew up a list of things that are different now that I'm 30 from when I was 20:

• I'm not able to stay up late and wake up early like I did in college.  (Well, the afternoon naps really helped with that ability, I must say!)  I can't function the next day.  I'm miserable until I get to go to sleep, which is usually at about 9:00 p.m..
• Speaking of going to bed early, I do that now.  A lot.
• And I nap, not out of laziness or staying up late, but out of necessity.
• I don't care what people think about me.  I like me.  I am pretty awesome.  If you don't feel the same, that's really your problem to deal with, not mine.  (And I mean that in the most gracious of ways.)
• I'm unapologetic about my beliefs.  God is amazing and does incredible things in my life everyday; I'm never going to be quiet about that.
• I'm way more willing to try new things.  
• I'm much cuter now.
• No, really.  Much cuter.
• I'm lumped into a older age bracket.
• Creepy old men don't leer at me as often.
• I have winkles, legitimately use eye cream and worry about fine lines.
• I get heartburn. From: Just. About. Everything.
• I worry about my cholesterol.
• When I like an article of clothing, I actually think "is this age-appropriate?"
• My dreams are more realistic.  Instead of daydreams about becoming a great singer/songwriter or meeting/marrying Luke Perry, my visions are of paying off my school loans and buying a hybrid car.

I can't say that any of those changes are bad.  They are just my way of developing into a slightly better version of who I was before.  Well, hopefully I'm better.  I'm more confident and, as a result, happier.  I don't like the fact I have to check a new age range box, but it happens to everyone.  All children grow up. 

In fact, being the youngest in my new group feels pretty good - it also means I may be able to actually win something in a race now!  (Honesty moment: Let me tell you something, racing against nubile 21 year olds is not good for your self-esteem.)

I'm looking forward to the challenges and celebrations that this year brings and being able to share that with all of you.

~J   

Did I Do That?

Remember those cards that my friend gifted to me?  Well, I bucked up and actually gave one out. 

(I think I just heard an audible gasp...) 

I was leaving a baseball game (natch, 'cause what else do I do these days?) and decided just to be bold and give a card to this guy that had been sitting near me at the game.  I didn't know him, but he laughed at my lame jokes and that was good enough for me.  After joking with a friend about how he wasn't going to call because he thought I was probably a major weirdo, I got a text from the guy. 

WHAT?!?!?!  HE ACTUALLY TEXTED??!!? These things might really work! 

I was proud of myself, for many reasons.  I actually took some initiative and put myself out there and nothing bad happened.  And even if he didn't text or call, I didn't lose anything.  I learned a little bit and gained a little bit of confidence.  I felt the realization that I can totally do this whole dating thing come over me.

I can feel you asking, "What about the guy? What happened?"  Well, he ended up being from Montana or Idaho or another one of those states with a population of 4, so it wasn't going anywhere.  He also was extremely interested in ONE thing and, well, that certainly wasn't on the table. 

Sidenote: I did pause to think about how giving out a card looked, after this instance...was it too forward?  Do I look like I'm ready "for a good time"?  Cause I really don't want a "good time," I mean, THAT kind of good time.  A good time, like, eating a yummy meal and playing mini-golf or shopping, is okay and actually a good time.

After this mild success, I felt up to the challenge of handing out a card or two.  I happened to go on a little trip with some of my besties last weekend and those cards were burning a hole in my pocket.  We went out for dinner for a birthday celebration and there was a group of guys behind our table.  I noticed a cute little nerd in group and thought, "I'm going to give that dork a card!" And I did. I cut a piece of birthday cake, put the card on the plate and took it over to him.  He sent me a text or two, but I wasn't sweating it.  I was too focused on the fact that I am, in fact, amazingly awesome.  I've started to believe in myself so much that approaching someone isn't scary, it's just fun.

Watch out kids, Jeana's back in town and she has some cards to give away.

~j

Hey, Young Girls

My sister turns 25 today.  While we have our similarities, we're pretty opposite in a lot of ways - we look different, we respond to problems differently and we like to do different things.  Those opposing mentalities used to be an issue when we were younger (she tried to kill me by banging my head on our porcelain bathtub when she was 5, but that's another story altogether), but now I've come to admire some of her strengths that I simply don't have.

She is smart (naturally, she is related to me after all), hard-working, funny (not as funny as me though), really pretty (like, seriously pretty...it's a little sickening), determined and a good mom.  Most of all, she is independent and knows what she wants, which is what inspired me to write this blog today.

It seems that young women I speak with from 18-25 don't know what they want and simply date people for the sake of dating.  They put 1,000 pounds of make-up on while wearing 3 inches of clothing and go out to pick up a guy for the night.  Some of these girls are so concerned with getting a boyfriend that they do practically anything to make that happen.  It's sad and a little desperate.  

My sister is different.  She doesn't play games.  She is unconcerned with relationship drama.  She refuses to take nonsense from guys.  She's a straight shooter and isn't afraid to tell you how she really feels.  She's strong.  She doesn't need a guy around for her to feel good about herself.  She even speaks up for me and I'm the older one.  I respect all these things more than I think I've ever said.

I'm usually timid.  I deal with a lot of stuff from guys that my sister wouldn't put up with - she ain't got time for that!  I am always afraid of offending someone, so I tend not to say what I'm really feeling.  I'm always thinking that I'm the one who's not good enough.  I think that there is a lot for me (and all those young girls) to learn from how she acts and reacts in dating.

Thank you, sister, for teaching me all this stuff.  You're the best.

~J

I Think I Want To Know Ya

I'm about to reveal something personal to you, something that has become a habit for me.  It's a little weird and I've found I am now little addicted to doing it. 

I look at the 'Missed Connections' on Craigslist almost daily.

(For those of you who don't know what that is, here's a little description: there is a section of Craigslist where people can post messages to look for someone they saw in passing, didn't get to really speak with, but want to get to know.) 

I stumbled upon it one day a few years ago when I was trying to sell some video games and fell in love with the whole notion of it.  Not only is it a cute idea, but it's romantic at its very heart.  People post with the hope that the zing they felt for a person wasn't just one sided.  They write a message and put it out into the universe, optimistic that somehow the person they saw in line at Kroger or passed by on the jogging trail is looking for them too.  It doesn't get much more starry-eyed than that.

I'm sure everyone has a story of someone they saw once or twice and thought, "I wish I had talked to that person."  I would be lying if I said I hadn't regretted not talking to a couple of guys I've seen over the years.  This little corner of Craigslist allows the possibility for people to take their own destiny in their hands!  It's just so terribly sweet.

Now, I'm not saying that every post is romantic.  There are some that are mostly about someone seeing someone 'hot' and even though they are married, they wish they could just SEE them again.  And, of course, there are the creepy ones.  (It's Craigslist, so naturally there would be some strange listings...it would be weird if there weren't a few.)  Even so, some of the posts are just so full of hope that it makes my little heart sing. 

The whole thing is a little bit of optimism for a pessimistic world and that's all I need.

~J

With A Little Help From My Friends

I guess I didn't realize how many of my friends were actually reading this thing, until I started getting comments about some of the things I've written.  I'm grateful (and incredibly surprised)  that anyone wants to spend their time reading my slightly humorous (maybe) and fully embarrassing (totally) musings.  I know that you're sticking around for bad date stories - which I'm sure will come soon enough - or to find out what hijinx I've gotten myself into, but I figured out something that can make this reader/writer relationship mutually beneficial. 

After mulling over the fact that my friends read this blog, I had an epiphany.  Why am I not using my most valuable resource to get dates?  It's right in front of my face.  My friends, gentle reader, are an untapped source of potential dates.  Somebody I know has thought to themselves, "This doctor/lawyer/professor friend of mine is amazing!  He would be perfect for Jeana."  (And if you haven't said that to yourself, then you should start thinking that way.)  I think that I've stumbled onto something that could be great.

I'm ready to go on a date and, possibly, write about it.  That's where my friends come in!  Any one of them might know someone who wants to date a smart, tall, educationally overachieving, loud laughing, curly haired, over-sharing, friendly half-Mexican.  (That's me, by the way.) 

How have I not thought of this before?  Or maybe I have and was just too shy to put it out there.  Either way, it seems like a good idea.  I go on a date and then write a little bit about it, without regard to whether it was the most amazing, life-changing date or the worst, soul-sucking encounter ever.  I've got to have a friend who'll take the bait, er, who'll be sweet and set me up with someone.

So, who's first?

~J

To Text or Not to Text, That Is The Question

Over the Labor Day weekend, I hung out with some friends I don't get to see enough.  I was excited to spend some time with them because they're a blast and they have fun friends, which is always good.  When we got to the place we were going, I noticed there was a guy there I had met before, who I thought was cute.  The last time I saw him, he was funny and seemed sweet - he even asked me to dance (brave guy).  For some reason, I didn't think he would remember me, but he did.  Huh.

As the night progressed, I talked to him a little bit and joked around a little bit.  My first assessment wasn't wrong, he was a nice guy.  Being honest, as I usually am with you dear reader, I even flirted a little!  (Well, it was flirting for me anyway.)  Things were good.

Then, there was an awkward moment.  His (well-meaning?) friend came over and basically suggested he get my number.  Cut to me, looking mortified.  I was blushing and completely nerdy.  I said that he didn't have to do that, but he said he wanted to.  (UH, no you don't, you're just being kind!)  After remembering how to speak English and recalling my number for him, he said something like, "Well, now you have it, text me if you feel like it," rather nonchalantly.

Now, I was never expecting him to ask for my number and didn't feel like he was too interested anyway, so I didn't send a text or call.  He didn't send me anything either.  I figured he was being nice, which he probably was, but after talking to some other people who were there, I think I might have misread the whole thing.

Apparently, he chose to sit next to me, even when his friends went off to play pool.  I guess he was a little flirty too.  And maybe his friend was playing matchmaker because he's a little shy?  Was I just not tuning into what was happening or was I right about the whole thing all along?

Whatever the case is, enough time has passed that sending a text now would be weird.  I've also learned in the past few days that I am a yellow-bellied, lily-livered coward.  I get so concerned about the outcome, I don't try.  I really need to get over that - how is anything going to change if I don't try?

Let's all hope that next time I choose to be a little bit bolder.  And by a little bit, I mean just enough to actually send "Hi" in text.  Baby steps guys, baby steps.

~J

The Chicken Dance

The Cubs are in town, which means I headed out to the ballpark to attempt to get Darwin Barney to notice me (and, also, to watch some mediocre baseball).  My friend Dennis was sweet enough to buy the tickets as an early birthday gift.  He also told me that he had a little something else for me.  I thought going to the game was more than enough, but he insisted that I was going to LOVE it.  Far be it from me to refuse a gift!

I got to the game and he handed me my present.  It could go down as the best present ever.

It was about 100 of these:

Excuse the poor picture quality, will you?


The card, obviously, has my name and phone number on it.  The idea is that if I think someone is interesting enough (read: cute or any adjectives similar to cute), I'll walk up and give it to them.  This is a great idea, in theory.  Occasionally, I see someone I think is worth a chance, but I don't have time (or the nerve) to talk to them.  This is a funny and clever way to put myself out there.  I liked it!

I liked it in theory, that is.

You see, friends, the fact is that I'm a chicken.  I wasn't able to give my card to ONE guy yesterday.  There was a guy sitting in the row in front of us, who laughed at everything I was saying.  (*Tangent* Typically, I would think his eavesdropping to be creepy, but we ALL know how loud I can be in public.  He probably couldn't help but overhear me and my humorous musings.)  Clearly, he was charmed by me - let's be honest, who isn't? (Don't answer that.) - but I couldn't bring myself to give him one of the cards.

I just didn't have it in me to pass him the card.  I was so nervous, my hand was shaking.  My number is on this thing!  What if he didn't text or call?  I would be disappointed.  If I can't give away a single card, what am I going to do with 100 of them?!?

Reflecting on this later, I figure that if I were to give out ALL the cards, surely there would be at least a single guy who would be interested.  That's my shot: 1 in 100.  Those are worse stats than either the Astros or the Cubs have this season (or any season), and that is saying quite a bit.  But, even then, all I need in my life is one dude, right?  And if they like my gall and see the humor in the card, then they kind of get me already. 

Is handing out the cards worth the risk?  Possibly.  Kim Kardashian or Winston Churchill (or someone equally important) said, "Without risk, there is no reward." 

Maybe the reward is learning how to take a harmless chance. 
Maybe it'll make me more adventurous.
Or maybe someone will call me. 

Maybe?

~J

Isn't It Romantic?

I was speaking to a friend of mine last week who reads the blog and she commented on how much she appreciated my post on being hopeful in the face of a break-up. She said that I was a romantic.  That's not me at all, I thought, but it made sense.  Her observation might just be true.

When I end something with someone, I want to clear out everything that reminds me of them.  I want all traces gone.  (Honestly, do I need to see a picture of us at a concert that he didn't even want to go to every time I log in to Facebook?  No.  I don't even need to see old text messages - so, let's get rid of those too.  In fact, let's just delete your number too, in case I'm having a bad day next month and can't resist the urge to call you.)  I know not everyone feels this way, but it helps me refocus, heal and move on.  I've always thought this approach was harsh, but totally necessary.

Because of this, I always assumed I was a little jaded and kind of cold.  However, in the recent months I figured out I'm the opposite of all that.

I love love.  I love dopey TV/movie moments when the characters you knew were going to get together finally get together.  I love when people find each other.  I sigh (usually audibly) when I see two people who genuinely love each other.  I get giddy watching love happen.  I get dreamy when I see sweet old couples.  I love when love wins.  I believe in love completely.  Maybe my old heart is actually full of romance instead of the optimistic label I always give it.

I've never been accused of being romantic or idealistic, but maybe that's what I've been all the time.  I know that where there is a heart willing to care, love can happen.  In spite of wanting to clear out old memories, I fully trust that there are new memories to be made.  Maybe that makes me romantic after all...

~J

Taylor Swift Teaches Us How NOT To Date

T. Swift pretty much has it made.  She's in the middle of a booming music career, she's young, she's pretty, she's got a good work ethic and she seems really nice.  She's kinda awesome. 

But, Taylor Swift stinks at dating.

Let's really think about it: she's 22 and has had more relationships in the past 4 years than I have had my whole life.  She moves from one guy to another and seems to hitch her heart on everyone one of them, regardless of their level of interest to her.  It's a recipe for disaster.

When you attach yourself so easily and earnestly to every guy that finds you the tiniest bit interesting, you are setting yourself up for major and consistent heartbreak that is unnecessary.  I'm not suggesting that people hold each other at arm's length all the time, but there is something to be said for actually dating someone.  You go out together and get to know each other before making a commitment with your heart.

I won't act like I haven't been guilty of getting too involved too soon, because who hasn't?  I know, however, how to back up a little bit and take it slow.  That, I think, is a crucial thing Taylor hasn't figured out yet.  In fact, she does the complete opposite.  I find her a little smothering.  Exhibit A: SHE BOUGHT A HOUSE ACROSS THE STREET FROM HER NEW BOYFRIEND.  Awkward.  Who does that?  What if (read: when) you break up?  Are you just going to causally sell the house or will you still go and stay there?  Maybe you'll take your newest boyfriend there to show off to the old one. 

Taylor is famous for taking her heartaches and turning them into songs, like any modern songwriter.  While I can't fault her for that, I find the way that she does it terribly annoying.  There are thinly veiled clues to the men that she's dated in her songs.  And by thinly, I mean direct references to those guys.  There are songs that are named after a particular man.  A CD with a liner that provides hints as to who the song is about.  It's mean.  She's kind of a bully in that way.  Break up with Taylor Swift and you can bet that there will be song written about you in no time.

I'm going out on a limb and say that maybe TS is a little insecure.  She needs a guy in her life to tell her that she's pretty/smart/great/amazing.  I don't know her, of course, but it seems like this is the case.  And she's not alone in this desire - she's just doing it in front of an audience of millions.

I hope that watching how Taylor pretty much fails at dating gives young girls (and adult women, for that matter) pause to think.  You can have everything - fame, money, adoration - and still be unsure about yourself.  That lack of confidence isn't going to be resolved by having a relationship.  You don't have to give your heart away like it's a free pen at a bank.  Not every guy that pays attention to you is worthy of your time.  Your value doesn't come from having the title of girlfriend.  You're every bit as incredible as Taylor Swift is - just don't date like her.

Return of the Meathead

You guys remember Meathead, right?  Well, he never really left the scene - he just quieted down a little bit, but has recently given me some good blog fodder.

(In case you don't recall him or need a refresher, you can find about more about him here and here.)

Anyhow, I was on my way to a graduation party and saw something funny, so I posted about it on Facebook. (Natch.)  Meaty saw it, thought it was REALLY funny and sent me a message.  I kindly responded via text (because I'm not a jerk) and boy, did that unleash a problem.  He started texting everyday and is the kind of texter that should you not respond to something he sent in a matter of seconds you get a "???" follow up.

I have to admit, I played along for a little while and texted him occasionally. I thought it was harmless and that I was dealing with a normal human being. It seems, however, that I might really might have hurt his feelings.  Also, it appears that Meathead is a teensy bit cray.

For some reason, there was a day Meathead was convinced we were going to hang out.  (I want to make it VERY clear that I never suggested or even hinted at wanting to get together at a particular time or place.  He might have mentioned hanging out, to which I flippantly said "Oh, yeah, that might be fun to do sometime...," but I can't be sure.)  After a short texting conversation, he assumed that I wanted to hang out the next day instead.  (Once again, I never said that I was doing anything with him.)  After not hearing from me, he sent a "scathing" text that was supposed to put me in my place.  I was a jerk and only thought about myself!  I made plans two days in a row with him and never showed you guys!

We were having a relationship and I didn't even know it!

That's when I stopped texting, for my own sanity.  I went text AWOL.  For a few days after I got a "hey" or "hi" from him, that turned into a "hiya" every couple of days, which eventually turned into no texting.  My radio silence got the point across finally. Whew - dodged a bullet in the form of an awkward conversation.

Last week, I heard my phone ding.  "Yay! A text!," I thought.  "Oh, it's from Meathead." *le sigh* 

The text read: "You know Im gonna block u cause u arent responding right?"

*facepalm*

But there was some relief there - as least I could let him do all the dirty work.

This weekend I was on the Facebook, stalking a few college friends and I see I have a message. From Meathead.  (Wait!! I thought he was going to BLOCK ME!!!)  His message read pretty much the same as the text, but he added "Good luck to you" or some variation of that.

I haven't heard from Meathead since then, but I HAVE learned my lesson.  Never be nice to save someone's feelings - sometimes the harsh truth, as hard as it is to hear/say, is necessary.  Being too kind can get you a boyfriend you didn't even want.

~j

We Are Never, Ever, Ever, Ever Getting Together

I have a good friend - we'll call her Single Sally - who is a power dater.  She's the self-proclaimed "Queen of the First Date." She's open to going on dates with different guys to see if there is a spark, which I support.  There isn't anything wrong with going to dinner with someone you find vaguely interesting, is there?  As long as you don't give your heart away to every guy you meet, I don't see a problem with her mentality.  I appreciate girls like her who consistently put themselves out there, simply because it takes a lot of nerve. 

Because Sally is actively dating, she has quite a few stories.  Here is one that happened recently:

Sally happened by some fancy seats at a baseball game and I jumped at the chance to go, mostly because I hadn't ever been to the swanky section of the ballpark.  Also going was a guy Sally met online.  They hadn't met face-to-face yet, but he seemed interested in going to the game.  We would all meet and ride together because she had a parking pass. 

As I was getting ready, Sally was meeting her date (heretofore known as Loser Luke or LL) and started to give me a text play by play.  LL apparently had a friend sleeping off a hangover on his couch and left Sally to talk to him while he stepped into another room.  Loser Luke wasn't saying much to Sally at all.  I didn't see much hope for this guy, but I was willing to go along with it - for the sake of my friend and my one true love, baseball. 

I left the conversation to fix my always unruly hair and came back to find I had missed two calls from Sally.  There was also a text that read, "Call me as soon as you can."  I paused my hairspray ritual to call her back, only to find out that Loser Luke decided that he couldn't/didn't want to go to the game any longer.  Basically, she felt like she showed up, he saw her and then decided that he couldn't be bothered.  He gave her some lame excuse like he had a birthday party that night and needed time to get things together or something equally lame.  What. A. Jerk.  I mean, really?!?

Of course, Sally was upset.  I think anyone in that situation would have been.  We still went to the game though, because baseball is important.  During the game, Loser Luke texted to ask how the game was.  Excuse me?  No sir.  You don't get to bail on my friend and then try to be nice.  That's not how this works.  What nerve this kid had.

This weekend I had lunch with Sally and apparently LL has been texting her ever since then.  He sent her a message a few weeks ago asking what she was up to and after she responded she was making dinner, he said it was his birthday and she should make him something good.  Just this past Saturday, he suggested that she come over to visit.  My jaw was on the table!    

I couldn't believe it.  What the heck is wrong with this guy?  Someone ate lead paint chips when he was a kid.  You basically take a look at a girl, decide that she's not worth your time and then, later, try to get her to hang out with you.  This makes no sense.  Loser Luke is diluted.  Maybe there is some underlying story here I don't know.  It may have been that he didn't want to have their first date with me as a tag-along or he thought she was too pretty for him, but it's not like he said that.  LL has never apologized or even acknowledged what he did that day,  he's never said anything.

Usually, this is the point where I would go off about how there isn't anyone good left, but I'm not today. I won't start lamenting about the lack of quality people in the dating pool, because I know there are great single people available. (I'm really talking about myself here.) It maybe harder to find them, but they exist. (Again, that's about me.) 

In the end, we all have a Loser Luke story.  Someone who just stopped calling.  Someone who said they weren't ready for a relationship and then gets engaged a month or two later.  Someone who starts dating your best friend.  Someone you overhear talking poorly about you.  Dating is hard, but when you meet a great person, all the Loser Luke encounters have been worth it.

Also, I really hope that Sally never really dates Loser Luke or I'm going to be in trouble.

Happy Wednesday,
J

Alone Again, Naturally

Well, I've been meaning to update this blog for a while and now is the perfect time to do it, because Mr. Wonderful and I are no longer dating.

Yes, I'm single again friends.  And, surprisingly, I'm okay with that.  Seriously.

Mr. Wonderful is still wonderful, nothing changed there, but he wanted to move on.  Am I sad about that?  Sure - if it were up to me I would still date him, but that's not how it is.  This is real life and things don't always work out the way you thought they might.  I'm not going to act like I didn't make some mistakes, because I did, but at least I have the opportunity to learn from them.  It was a great summer and I met someone amazing.  I can't complain about that.

The great thing is that Mr. Wonderful reminded me that there are people out there who are crazy compatible with me.  People that get my personality, that are just as interested in music, movies and pop culture as I am, that appreciate my wacky sense of humor.  That fact is incredibly heartening. I guess I knew that all along, but I started and ended this minor relationship with him so unsure of myself and it wasn't until he officially ended things that I was able to see that.

Now, not everything about the situation was perfect, so I'm not trying to set this whole summer romance as "the one that got away," but it was a good experience.  I am usually methodical and cautious, but, this time, I took a chance.  I'm grateful for the time Mr. Wonderful and I had together.  The end result isn't ideal, but God has given me a spirit of hope and I can't really ask for much more than that. 

The other good news?  The blog is back in full force.  You're welcome in advance.

~j

A First Date: My Introduction to Mr. Wonderful

I know I kinda sprung being in an official relationship on everyone with very little warning, my apologies.  I didn't even write about our first few dates at all. Why?  Because those dates were, simply put, freaking awesome.  There was nothing to write about except rainbows, hearts, unicorns and googly eyes and I wanted to spare you the gushing.

I usually write about traumatic things that happen to me for comedic effect, mainly because if I wasn't laughing, I would be crying profusely and often.  The first date with Mr. Wonderful was simple, easy and, honestly, the best first date I'd ever gone on.  I even came to a great realization during the date.  Here is a little of how it went:

We had been texting for a little bit and he asked me to go to dinner.  He didn't ask me to "hang out," he actually asked me on a big kid date.  The day of the date, I wrote a blog about failing at dates (it's here, in case you missed it) because I was so exceptionally nervous.  I spent most of the morning deciding what to wear (a dress) and spent a fair part of the late afternoon deciding what to do with my unruly hair (it still looked like a hot mess).  After a day spent thinking about all the possible ways I could/was probably going to screw this date up, it was time to actually go out with him. *gulp* 

I drove over to the place we were having dinner and I thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest.  What I mean by this is my heart was beating so hard I could hear it in my ears and I LITERALLY THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE.  I sat in my car for a minute and tried to compose myself, while he texted to ask me if I was there yet. My next thought was, "Ahhhhh! This is happening. I can't breath! I'm actually going to pass out. I'm going to throw up, pass out and he's going to find me in this car, unconscious with puke all over my lap. Awesome."

After getting myself together, I walked up toward the door of the restaurant and he was standing outside.  My hands started sweating - 'at what point in my life did I get sweaty palms?!?!' - and it felt like my knees were going to start shaking.  I managed to plaster on what was probably a really awful, "Help me, I'm scared" smile and he, not missing a beat, hugged me hello.  After that hug, all my awkward, dorky nervousness disappeared and I was able to be my regular, still semi-dorky, self.

I did spend a little bit of the first part of dinner intensely studying the menu, but eventually looked up and engaged him in actual conversation.  "Hey, I can do this!  I can talk face to face to a real guy without being an idiot!"  After dinner, we hung out and kept talking, about a little of everything.  It was so comfortable, it felt like he and I had been friends for a long time.  I was enjoying myself.

At some point toward the end of the evening, he was talking and I was able to really look at him.  I have to admit, I zoned out on what he was saying (am I a boy, or what?) and just looked at him. "Huh, this guy is cute.  Have I thought that yet or was I too focused on my eyeliner running to take notice?  I think I might actually like him..."

See, what I did before this thought was something that lots of girls do: I was so caught up in getting him to like me, I didn't stop to think if I liked him.  Shouldn't it be about figuring out if the other person is good for us, not the other way around?  Why did it take me nearly 30 years to figure that out?  Life would have been way simpler if I had learned that lesson before.

Anyway, you all know how the end of the story goes - a few more dates, a week away and then I have a real, live boyfriend.  If only everything was this easy.

~j


   

How I Met His Mother

Things with Mr. Wonderful are pretty good, thanks for asking! We're still in that early relationship phase where everything is hearts, rainbows and unicorn farts, which smell like roses and happy btw, yet we're not suffocating one another.  There is a comfortability (not a word, I know, but allow me some poetic licence) to this relationship that I don't quite understand, but I like it.  There is a lot of laughing, some weird faces and accents (on my part, natch) and an easiness that I'm enjoying. 

Everything was great...

and then came the day were I met his mother.

Now, this is not a story about how she was horribly nasty and made me cry; it was quite the opposite actually.  She is really delightful, pretty, kind, easy-going, she laughs at my jokes AND SHE MADE ME THE MOST AMAZING SPAGHETTI.  She's pretty much awesome. 

Instead, this is a story about how I am complete mess and need help.

They invited me over for dinner on Sunday and since I was in a carb-loading mood --
I'm training for watching the Olympics -- she was making spaghetti. FOR ME. (A mother who cooks is always impressive to me.)  Anyway, I was supposed to come around to her place about 4:00 on Sunday.  I said, for some unknown reason, that I would make a dessert.  Great!  Easy!

I was little nervous about meeting her, as most people would be, but I'm fairly charming and parents typically like me because I have gentile southern manners (please save your scoffing and retort for texts and/or emails, thank you). 

I had the dessert all planned out.  I had my outfit picked.  I was ready.      

And then, it all went to poop.

First off, I was late.  BY AN HOUR AND A HALF.  For some of you, this is no surprise, as you already know I'm not really punctual, but this was bad.  They hadn't eaten all day and were waiting on me to start. It wasn't my fault really, but golly, was this not a good impression.

I also forgot to bring the dessert.  Then I bumped into a table, knocking my entire drink onto the carpeted floor.  At some point, I also thought I broke the toilet, but I managed to fix it somehow.  I did my dorky laugh.  I was totally winning at life.

She had no choice but to hate me now.  She was going to hate me and with all the reasons I gave her, I couldn't blame her at all.  And yet, she didn't.  She was gracious and took it all in stride.  The next time I saw her, she gave me a fudge pop.  If that's not liking me, I dunno what is.
 
Now, she could secretly loathe me, but at least I have opportunities to win her over later.  And this time, I'm not going to forget the dessert.

What Happens When I Take A Chance

I have a boyfriend. 

(Again.)

Let me preface this relationship update with a story about how I got to this point:

When I started this blog, I told myself I was going to try things I wouldn't have normally.  I was going to allow myself to break out of this little shell I've created.  I was going to give new people a chance.  I was going to really have fun. 

I was lying.

My heart was still healing from my break-up and I never gave myself time to process.  Instead, I threw myself headfirst into a sea of confusing dating rituals - the kind I never had gotten a handle on in the first place.  Bad move?  Maybe, but the funny thing is I learned something.

I met a great guy (Mr. Wonderful) a few weeks ago.  He's smart, sweet, kind, determined and likes all my annoying quirks...well, he likes them now anyway.  I kinda kept myself from liking him as much as I felt like I did because there was a part of me that felt like I didn't deserve having someone that awesome in my life.  I had a lot to do before I was good enough for him, so I kept him at arm's length as much as I could.

And the idea I wasn't good enough extended far beyond Mr. Wonderful, into other parts of my life that affected how I felt about nearly everything.

Then God spoke truth in my life.

I went on a trip with some teens for my church and God used every moment to remind me that what I was allowing myself to have was so much less than what He wanted for me.  I was settling for a life that could be made great, if I would simply trust that He made wonderfully and He never makes mistakes.  He was constantly trying to bless me and I was too ashamed to let Him, too scared to acknowledge the amazing things He is continuously doing in and through me.  God made me good enough for anything, for everything and His love will see me through all things.

Whoa.  My mind was blown.  I was pushing away everything that God was giving me - job opportunities, new responsibilities, the kindness of my friends and family - because I didn't think I was deserving, and yet, He thought I was.  He thinks I am.

So, why not take this chance and allow someone good, generous and kind to come into my life, especially when we have so much fun together?  If it does work (and, ever the optimist, I hope it does), then I haven't lost anything.  If it doesn't, surely I will learn something from it and be better for it.

Don't worry - I'm not going to stop blogging, but I'm sure it's going to change a little bit.  Hopefully you guys will stick around and see "What Happens When I Have A Boyfriend."

With affection,
J 

   

Ways I Fail At Dates: Vol. 1

I am going on an actual date tonight, with a real, live boy.  Since this is the first one I've had in a while, I starting thinking about the ways I could possibly mess it up (natch).  I'm usually a big advocate of positive self-talk, but since I'm dusting off the old dating chops, I went into crisis mode.  What do I wear?  What if I'm wearing too much make-up/perfume/hairspray?  What if I'm not wearing enough make-up/perfume/hairspray? And so on.

I made a list of the possible (read: probable) ways I could fail at this date.  My hope is by identifying them, I can avoid them or something like that.

Being Annoying:
Sometimes I pay more attention to my phone than other people.  Sometimes I am a jerk.  Sometimes I crunch ice.  Sometimes I laugh too loud, at things that weren't that funny.  Sometimes (okay, okay, all the time) I talk too loudly.

Conversation Issues:
Sometimes I use too many words. Sometimes I don't use enough words.  Sometimes the words I use are too much like an SAT prep class.  Sometimes I trail off in the middle of a thought.

Eating Habits:
Sometimes I eat like someone is going to steal the plate from me.  Sometimes I drop food all over myself.  Sometimes I burp so loudly, people in the next county ask what that noise was.

Nerd Tendencies:
Sometimes I talk about library issues that no one but librarians care about.  Sometimes I go in depth about some random movie trivia.  Sometimes I bring up the fact I was a hopeless dresser in junior high and high school.  Sometimes I discuss my love of first-person shooters.  Sometimes I am Andrea Zuckerman.

Hipster-Related Snobbishness:
Sometimes I scoff at people's musical preferences.  (One thing: I'm saying RIGHT NOW that Nickleback is excluded from this section, because NO ONE should like Nickleback and liking/listening to them is a total and complete dealbreaker.)  Sometimes I think something that someone is watching is too mainstream.  Sometimes I talk too much about Tom's/organic food/indie band/arthouse movies.

Whew.  I'm sure there are more than this, since I'm inept at dating and all.  Let's all hope I can avoid these and come out of this date unscathed.

~j

Is It That Easy?

Almost four weeks ago:

I was at a red light and had the windows down to let the hot, stale air escape.  I was stuck in a little traffic.  I was singing to myself, as per usual.  I looked to my left and this pretty cute guy was looking at me smiling.  Naturally, I assumed it was because I was a dork and was completely butchering that stupid "Call Me Maybe" song. 

He shouted out, "Hey, let me get your number. I think I want to get to know you." 

I did and I thought, "Whoa.  Did that really just happen?"

Traffic moved and life went on.

Present day:

While I've texted back and forth a few times with Traffic Guy, nothing has really come of it, but that's okay because something important came out of our interaction.

A random guy asked for my number and I gave it to him.  It was simple.  It was hassle-free.  It was worry-free.  It was...great.

Is it always that easy?  It doesn't have to be an epic struggle of wills?  You don't have to worry about saying the right things?  Or wear an outfit that makes you look both thin and somehow like you didn't spend 1 hour and 45 minutes deciding on it?  Or become totally Woody Allen level neurotic and overthink everything?  Have I been going at this the wrong way this whole time?

I didn't have to do anything but be willing to put myself out there, just a little.  I was totally myself and this guy was still, beyond my own comprehension, interested.  It's not that I'm not myself when I meet guys, but I do tone down my innate goofiness/immaturity.  What's the point in that?  A complete stranger became interested while I'm belting out the lyrics of a highly age inappropriate song with total disregard of how I look to others. 

I can be me, the real me, and some guys will actually like that? Mind-boggling.  Why did it take me this long to figure that out?

~j