My New Dating Coach

I pretty much inhale all things dating and love and whatnot – Millionaire Matchmaker, The Rules According to J-Woww – but my newest dating guru is Dating Coach, April Beyer. She posts video responses to reader emails every Thursday and it makes Thursdays pretty lovely because she always has something lovely and insightful to say.

As an update, I don’t need dating advice per se, but dating and relationships are not mutually exclusive and I think something I learned in all the up and down with Lucky is that maintaining the dating aspect of a relationship is important.  

Easing into a relationship is easy, but keeping it exciting and never taking your significant other for granted are good things!  And let’s be honest, the quick-to-fake-commit-and-wear-yoga-pants-in-front-of-each-other thing hasn’t worked for me so far, so it’s about time I tried to change the ingredients.

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F.M.H.

Somewhere out there, some poor man is not getting his oh-my-god-my-girlfriend-wore-heels-to-bed-and-we-had-the-sex-I-am-going-to-fantasize-about-at-least-until-the-next-time-she-does-something-amazingly-hot sex.  Because he is hiding from me.

My awesome second October bride bought and sent all of her bridesmaids shoes for the wedding.  She wanted us to be matchy-matchy mostly for the ceremony and pictures.  

I was excited when the sexy 4.5″ heels arrived at my door, the perfect pick-me-up for a Monday!  Although beyond wearing them around the house, I guess I kind of have to wait FIVE months to wear them…why do people have such long engagements?!

In an email chain that looped in a few of the other bridesmaids, I thanked the bride for the fuck-me heels and let her know that any single groomsmen didn’t stand a chance.

Another bridesmaid friend seconded that, but I’m not sure she really meant it.  Her groomsman boyfriend actually ASKED her to wear them to bed and she said she just glared at him.

So, here’s my question…why does SHE get a boyfriend if she’s not even going to play with him?

Okay. I’m feeling bitterly single these days.  I see plenty of fat, ugly women with horrible personalities* in seemingly loving relationships and can’t help but wonder what is wrong with me. 

Recently I caught SATC while on the treadmill and it was an episode around the beginning of Charlotte and Trey’s relationship.  The day after, while feeling down, I realized I needed to channel my inner Charlotte. 

She wants love, someone special and ultimately to get married, but note that sandwiched in there was “someone special.”  And yeah, she FUBARed it the first time around, but I dig her dating style.  She’s demure, but didn’t put up with shit just for the sake of having someone adore her. 

There’s nothing wrong with me aside from the fact that I know what I deserve and I’m going for, er, waiting for it.

*I say this because “you think I’m fat and ugly with a horrible personality” is a thing with this group of wedding ladies.  I can admit that I can be judgemental, but mostly my thoughts when I see happy couples are not that specific. They are more along the lines of, “Really?  Her?” Kinda like when, in a moment of weakness, I FBed TGISWOTSD and saw him with a particularly plain looking gal. Whatever tickles your pickle, dude.

I’m Damaged

But, not as damaged as I assumed last night.

Last night, I was waiting for a man I had nicknamed Mush.  Seriously.  There was a whole post about it (not the waiting part, the nickname part, the why he deserved a nickname part), it was going up today at 5am. 

[Spoiler alert…it’s in the trash.]

I wrote it on Monday and kept postponing the post date.

Just wait until after your next date.

But, things are going so well, they’re going to be the same after the next date.

Just one more.  For good measure.

Okay, fine.

The next date happened last night.  Start to finish, two hours.  I had a feeling all day.  It grew.  It hit its crescendo at 6:30. 

He’s not going to come.  He’s going to bail.  Things have been going great, but ALL MEN walk away.  ALL MEN let me down. 

He’s not like all men.  We’re a great match.  He’s intrigued and all the signs are there.

I couldn’t talk myself down.  I made plans to make back up plans.  To call my best friend and beg him to come eat the dinner I made for Non-Mush with me because Non-Mush stood me up. 

That’s when I realized I was damaged.

Non-Mush knocked on the door slightly after the pre-determined time.  How cute.  Late is our thing.  Both mine and his. 

There was a hug and kiss.  But he didn’t want to be there.  

We made conversation as I finished the last of the dinner.  The dinner I planned out, bought groceries for, prepped, donned an apron to cook to show him how adorable I am.  I cleaned the house, I changed my sheets, I got a compromise of a movie.   

All of this with a feeling in the pit of my stomach.

After dinner, I asked him to set up the movie.  He turned on the TV, but made no move to start the movie. 

I kissed his cheek and cuddled in.  That’s fine, we’ll watch a little TV. 

“So…conversation…hard to have…”

I uncuddled.  I knew.

“I don’t have butterflies.”

What are you?  A 15-year-old girl?

“I want to have them.  You’re the most awesome girl I’ve met in like five years.”

[Insert story of the last girl he felt something for, back in 2006 and how he’s pretty sure the fact that he’s not found it since means that he’s pretty damaged too.]

Yeah?  Well, shove that up your ass and join the club of men who think I’m awesome.  The men who also think that knowing they see how awesome I am HELPS in any sense when they’re breaking up with me.

He had come over to tell me that – and in the process of telling me that, revealed that he HAD considered bailing, but thought I deserved a face-to-face conversation about why I’m amazing, but not amazing enough.

If I had anything to tell him last night it was going to be to stick with me.  That my M.O. is that I’m awesome when I meet a guy, usually because I don’t give a rat’s ass, but when I start to like him, I get scared and nervous and box up my awesome and that he should just stick with me through that because when it’s safe again, it all comes back.

I didn’t get the chance to say that. 

Well, I did, but not in the way I wanted and in the moment, it probably just sounded lame at best, desperate at worst. 

“I suppose I should thank you for not pushing the sex thing.  This would be a lot more difficult if that were a factor.”

“Well, I respect women.  I never want to pressure that or push things.  I really am a Southern gentleman.”

Yeah, again.  Not making this easier.

We talked about rushing things v. pacing things.  We’ve apparently both been known to rush.  It’s apparently not worked for either of us. 

“It doesn’t work until it does,” I told him. 

And with that, suddenly I felt like the wise, mature and cool one.  The awesome I lost when I started to like this guy came back and I was giving relationship advice to the man seven years older than me whom I had spent the last two weeks offering my heart to until he gave it back to me last night with a, “nah, no thanks.”

Suddenly, I was the one consoling him.  I had kept my tears to myself, but he kept apologizing, telling me he felt bad.  He actually pouted his lip out. 

Hey, remember when I telepathically told you it doesn’t help me to know you think I’m awesome?  It also doesn’t help me to know you feel bad.  I WANT you to feel bad.  You DESERVE to feel bad.

He knew my silence was screaming, “get the HELL out of my house.”

There was a hug.  I allowed myself to tear up a bit as he held me, rubbed my back a bit. 

We pulled away and he stepped out the door.

“I’ll wait for about three weeks for you to realize what a fucking idiot you are, but that’s it.”

“I really want to keep hanging out with you, let’s go hiking, let’s work out together.  You never know what might happen.”

Yeah, I do know.  You just told me you want nothing to do with me in the way that I want so much to do with you, so I know that NOTHING will happen except maybe you’ll feel better about the whole “being a damaged asshole” thing.

So, there you have it.  Instead of the mushy Mush story, the tear-stained Non-Mush story.  The story of how I thought I was damaged, realized I was just intuitive and probably became more damaged in the process. 

DO all men leave?  WILL all men let me down?  Where’s the man who will hold me tighter when I feel safe enough to tell him that those are my fears?

I suppose hope it’s true what they I say…it doesn’t work until it does.

Dating Hat Trick

I recently decided it wouldn’t depress me to count all the men I’ve been out with in 2011.  I thought it would be kind of humorous because it feels like a lot and I decided I would be able to ignore the little voice that would say, I’ve been on X number of dates and still haven’t found someone.  What is the common thread here and what must be wrong with that common thread (me)?

By X, I mean nine.  As in seven first dates + two men I had seen before the new year.  I actually don’t find that depressing.  It WOULD be depressing if I went with Bachelor #1 just for the sake of having a man.

In an effort of full disclosure, I went on 18 dates with those nine men, because some were interesting/cute/nice enough to allow for repeat performances.  I keep impeccable records BTW.  So, since we are in the ninth week of the new year, that means an average of two dates a week, which sounds about right.

However, this week, I really upped the ante and went on three dates in 24 hours.  Now THAT is slightly depressing.  And a lot more work and less fun than it sounds like it might be.  I’m burning out and am so looking forward to the family and friend activities I have planned this weekend, which have allowed me to say NO to dates.

How exactly DOES a girl go on three dates in 24 hours, you ask?

Tuesday, 7pm, dinner with Old Blue Eyes – We met on Match and I have been out with him a handful of times with a variety of outcomes.  On this date, he started discussing conspiracy theories (loudly and people at the bar were staring and wondering why such a gorgeous girl was with a guy who apparently believes that America was involved in 9/11 and that the government is hiding cures for cancer and AIDS).  He  conveniently went to the bathroom right around the time we should have been asking for the check – a trick he pulled before too – although, admittedly, he had paid on the last couple and it was my turn again.  Despite all that, we made out in the parking lot a bit, but I finally admitted that he kisses like 12-year-old MJ’s boyfriend (something I had discovered on our third date and apparently thought was going to change).  Seriously, how to you get to 27 and still suck that bad?!

Wednesday, 1pm, lunch with Napoleon – After coffee on Monday night, this shorty sent me cheesy lovely text messages about how he couldn’t wait until the weekend to see my eyes and smile again and wanted to get me out of the office and take me to lunch.  What was so easy on Monday seemed to be more of a performance this time around.  Self-importance = turn off.  The mishmash of tattoos he has and proceeded to tell me about = most likely a turn off. On the plus side, I was wearing heels and still shorter (barely) than him, so maybe he’s a bit taller than I gave him credit for initially.

Wednesday, 5pm, sushi happy hour with Ace – Ace is [a golfer and] my last Match match I talked to before I cancelled my account and this was our first date.  Rounding out my hat trick, this was the best date of the three.  At times, the convo dragged and it felt like an interview, but then we got on a topic that we could talk about, which is I guess how dating goes.  We had a good amount in common and after a while, I forgot that he was (gasp!) younger than me.  And then there was an awkward hug at the end.

And that, my friends, is how you go on three dates in 24 hours, get completely sick of talking about yourself, decide dating for the sake of dating [or because you’re epically bad at “breaking up” with someone when it’s only been a few dates] is overrated. 

The experience has made me vow to:

  • spread out the dates and schedule more time with myself because that’s how I recharge.
  • not waste more than one date on a bad prospect (or however many it takes to realize he is, in fact, a bad prospect).
  • revert to short meet-and-greets for first dates.
  • not drink on dates if I don’t want to (although, I only drank with Ace, perhaps I would have enjoyed Bachelor #1 and Bachelor #2 more if I had had cocktails on those as well).
  • stop overthinking the whole dating thing anyway.  I keep wondering how many dates is enough and what deserves another chance v. what gets a definitive “thanks, but no thanks.”  I need to trust myself and that I’ll know when I know.

The Other Side, Again

So, as I bragged about in my WWW post for the week, I got rid of Rebel.  First of all, what kind of cold-hearted woman BRAGS about breaking up with someone?  What kind of woman gives herself so much credit anyway?

Things with R were not serious, there had been no L word mentioned (but there were red roses on V-Day…women read into that and I think men know that, so WTF?) and while, I think we were both kinda like, “you’re cool, I like hanging out with you,” I don’t think he was madly in love with me and I broke his poor, little heart by any means.

In fact, after going back and forth on a few issues, I said that we weren’t going to work out was because I was looking for something serious and he just wasn’t that.  After refuting all of my other reasons, to THAT, he was kind of like, “yeah, okay.”

So there you have it.  I can’t blame him for not wanting anything serious in his life right now and he can’t blame me for seeking it. 

But, I know if it were up to him, we would have trucked along with the status quo.  The break up was definitely one-sided and I have guilt over it and am a little sad for the loss of him as a friend. 

So yesterday when he posted something on Facebook about how it’s weird to go from talking to someone every day to just not, I sent him a text, being all, “no it’s cool, we can still talk, let’s be friends, let’s do all the stuff we talked about doing before.”  And I would truly be fine with that – because nothing has changed for me. 

I thought of him as a good friend before and basically it just took me some time to tell him that.  But to him, we were in a romantic relationship and, at least for the time being, I was his someone.  Until I called an audible.

Kinda like exactly what happened to me in November.  And the November guy legitimately wanted to be friends.  And so did I, at first, because I thought it would lead to him realizing how awesome I am and how lame he was for thinking otherwise.  But, just because his feelings weren’t there, didn’t mean mine could just go away and it was best for me to not see him at all anymore.

So when Rebel didn’t respond to my text, I was a  little hurt, but understood.  It’s not fair to tell someone that he’s awesome and you still want to hang out, but that it’s not going anywhere and eventually you’re going to want to make out and stuff with other guys instead of him.  You can’t have it both ways. 

I’m glad I’m on this other side again.  My guilt over ending things is nothing compared to the guilt I felt for keeping him on my hook.  Most importantly, I am really glad my boyfriend spot is free.

I’m totally loving Jerrod Niemann’s painfully true song, What Do You Want?, right now.  So, please enjoy his panty-dropping voice singing about the selfishness and heartache of staying in touch with exes:

 

I ThinkBelieveKnow

I know the ratio of men to women is close, but that there are more women in the U.S.  While we’re on population statistics, I don’t know for sure, but I know there’s not “NO WAY” that there are more black people than white people in the world (translation…I believe the populations of white and black people in the world are close and that the black population might actually be slightly higher, probably depending on what counts as white and when).

I think I know that there are fewer women in the workforce, but the percentage of unemployed women is lower than the percentage of unemployed men, and that, particularly in a down ecomony, men are more likely to be laid off (thank YOU very much, $0.77 to the dollar).  And now I know it, because I found stats to back me up.

I think it’s cheaper to eat whole foods (if you don’t buy them AT Whole Foods) than processed foods. Healthier, and therefore cheaper in the long run, too!  I know arguments can, and have, been made on both sides though.  For me, I’m always impressed when I can walk out of the grocery store loaded up with a week’s worth of produce for around $10.  I also don’t eat meat at home, so if that skews my experience, fair enough.

I believe using the word gay as a synonym for anything other than homosexual or happy makes you lame, which ironically, is usually the sentiment you are trying to convey in the first place. 

I think that feeling sore after a good workout is not a bad thing.  Even if I worked out every day of my life and was super in-shape, I’d still want to feel it to know I’m consistently waking up my muscles in new ways. 

I know last night I went to a bar with a guy I kinda was starting to like and disagreed about every one of these things and probably others that I’m forgetting.  I DON’T KNOW why it made me so upset and I DON’T KNOW what it means for me and Old Blue Eyes (when I started getting really frustrated, I looked into his gorge eyes and tried to ignore it).

I know I hate getting into these types of discussions.  Especially at a bar.  Especially when I’m drinking.  But I know I’m super stubborn, although I didn’t feel that we were struggling because I was stubborn, I felt we were struggling because I was right.  Obvs.  HUGE difference. 

The biggest point of dissention was the men and women in the workforce bit and he came off as having views that just don’t sit with me as the bra-burner I am at heart. 

I know there was NO WAY he was spending the night at my house on our fifth date, fight or no fight, as he seemed to have assumed, which pissed me off too.  Even if he said he only had the couch in mind.

Yes, I believe five dates is too soon for that and that other that (although I haven’t always felt that way) AND too soon for generic pet names.  The “babes” could be ignored via text, but when he started telling me, “I wouldn’t lie to you, babe,” (yes, I know you’re not lying, which sadly means you actually believe all this shit you’re spewing) and “drive safe, babe,” (yes, even after the disagreement fest) things just got awkward.

Dear Voices of Reason (aka, the three people who read this blog),
Was I wrong about any of these things?  I can take it, I promise.  Is this type of date night get-overable?  Can I draft a letter that essentially says, “I was wrong, MJ was right” and make him sign it so we can move on?

These kind of stumbles can end up being funny little anecdotes you tell as a couple down the road.  OR they may just as easily be the moments you look back on while you’re eating your feelings and think “I SAW it coming, what the HELL was I thinking?” 

How do you know which it will be?

Good Luck

I went on a lunch date with a man who claimed to be the real-life Good Luck Chuck on Saturday.

Good Luck Chuck

Image by Roscoe Van Damme (In Memory of Maureen) via Flickr

Although his version is a little less romantic.  According to him (GLJ), the women he’s dated quasi-seriously – about 5 or 6 – either got engaged or knocked up by the man they dated right after him. 

He says he tends to attract insecure women and attributes the “Good Luck” phenomenon less to anything he actually does and more to their neediness.  When they broke up, they moved on and clung to somebody else and it happened to work out that time.

Sounds like a dick thing to say, but I can see it because he did seem very nurturing and caring, like he would be very reassuring and dedicated in a relationship, which is perfect for women who need a lot of that. 

He’s 34 and the kind of guy who has a lot of female friends who all think he’s a great catch but don’t want to date him.  I may or may not be joining that group.  Mostly, he might be a little too nice for his own good.  I don’t want the jackasses anymore, but I need a guy with a little edge to him. 

So he gave me that option.  Sign on for a few months with him, then move on to a slightly edgier Mr. Right shortly thereafter.  Kind of sad, but an intriguing offer that deserves some consideration.

The thing is, I have a huge crush on one of his friends.  Like a he could ask me to marry him and I would drive to Vegas and make it happen kind of crush.  And should this guidepost friend of his ever be single again, I wouldn’t want to be out of the running because of some lame bro code.  So my final answer is that I can’t date GLJ.  Yep, definitely not worth it.

GLJ and I did find out we have a lot of the same views on dating…fate, keeping it real, going for what you deserve, the whole shebang.  After the date he tweeted – he’s HUGE into social media, I knew there would be something – well, technically REtweeted a quote about meeting someone who makes you realize why it never worked out with anyone else before.  I’m sure, based on our convo, it just spoke to him, but yeah, it was a little weird.

Oh HELL no. That did not just happen.

What didn’t just happen, you ask?

I did not have a (very realistic) dream that I was pregnant. I blame Bridezilla my sister.  We went bridesmaid dress shopping over the weekend and not only is her other bridesmaid (her soon-to-be sister-in-law) pregnant, she has total baby brain, so pregnancy was a dominant conversation theme. 

Yes, the woman who is having a 14-month engagement is already plotting her 2-month wedding-to-knocked up turnaround.  And she bought a mom car last week. I’m assuming the mom jeans are next.  Perhaps that’s just how competitive I am.  Ha!  I’ll show her, I’ll great dream-pregnant and push one out first! 

I don’t have them ALL that often, but pregnancy dreams used to scare me.  You know, back when I was getting some?  I was in no way ready for a baby and was always concerned that it was my subconscious’ way of telling me I was, in fact, with child.  Yeah, totally not getting any and totally not prego.

I did not miss my ex-ex-boyfriend recently and consider emailing him to tell him that I was sorry and wrong and that he was right, my recent decision to go for what I deserve in love was really just me flirting with bitchiness and we should get back together and I’ll be a good little wifey, barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen.

I did not then think about how TGISWOTSD was supposed to get me over the ex-ex and then get kinda sad about him too.  But with way less desire (like none) to contact him.  Funny how the [quasi-]good guy is easier to stay away from than the toxic one. Probably because one of the last things TGISWOTSD said to me was that he just didn’t see our relationship going where I did and one of the last things the ex-ex told me was that I was his one.  Who doesn’t want to be wanted?

I did not consider just sleeping with Rebel and getting it over with in an attempt to make a rebound actually work for me for once because I know that replacing a hurt with a disappointment doesn’t actually work for me.

I did not get propositioned for sex on OK Cupid.  I mean, there’s absolutely NO WAY I actually got a message that said “so would ya hook up if it was worth it enough?Ive kinda had a fantasy but havent had a chance for it to happen.”  Horrible sentence structure aside, ew. 

I did not realize today is my half-birthday in a mild panic.  Or maybe if I did, I realized that six months is long and I’ve got some time to become even more awesome before I turn 27.

Nope, none of that stuff happened.  I have a completely normal and healthy subconscious and love life.

The Meet Market: Bars

The idea of meeting people to date in bars is quite polarizing.  There are a lot of single people in a small place, but intentions and quality of those people are questionable.

I have met someone who became a boyfriend in a bar and know a handful of people who also have/have had successful relationships with someone they met in a bar, so it really shouldn’t be overlooked.

Attempting to meet someone in a bar this month was a little tricky because I came up with the plan not too long ago plus I have kinda cooled it on the drinking, well, since November, but more so since mid-month, pretty much becoming a teetotaler in the two weeks before my race.

But, I did make it to a few bars and did meet a guy, not much to report on him, but following is my checklist on meeting men in bars:

1.  Go to places that you like to go.  I’m not a club person and the men in clubs are not for me, so I stick to dives and sports bars.  Also, I’m no spring chicken anymore (future MJ will probably kill me for saying that), so to avoid looking around and realizing I’m the cougar at a bar, I have to be a little pickier about where I go.  I live right by a huge college town and like to go out there, but for men, I’ve found other areas that are better.

Maybe I'll meet my (non-cheating) Don Draper.

2.  Okay, this might be awful, but Rebel took me to a swanky resort lounge recently and it was crawling with age-appropriate business men.  Granted, they likely were not locals and I’m not looking for a long distance relationship with a traveling businessman who picks up women at hotel bars, BUT I think it’s good practice and probably would be a flirting confidence booster and I might go back sans date sometime.

3.  This is super cheesy, but I used to give myself a pep talk before I went into a bar.  Something along the lines of, “you’re cute and the men in here would be lucky to talk to you.”  Confidence is sexy and comes from within!  I try to send out a good vibe.

4.  Similarly, I used to go out with my roommate and if a guy didn’t talk to her within a few minutes of walking in, she’d get pissed off and she ended up giving off a very negative vibe and no one wanted to talk to her (or the unfortunate girls she was with – me!) all night.  She’d sit and play with her phone.  Ugh, it was awful.

5.  Move around.  I don’t like sitting at the same table or standing in the same spot all night.  I don’t order drinks from a server, I walk over to the bar by myself (being alone makes a woman much more approachable) and find a spot next to a cute guy to belly up.

6.  I’m not huge on approaching.  I have no good lines, so usually I just rely on placement + eye contact + smiling to get a guy to talk to me.  I have yet to find the happy medium between “hi/what’s up?” and “do you believe in love at first sight or should I walk by again?”

7.  Sad to say that Mystery is right, having an accessory as a conversation piece does make it easier to talk to a guy.  I probably wouldn’t talk to one wearing a large fuzzy hat and goggles, but I’d comment on a sports team shirt or something.  Same goes for women.  “I like your black tank top, jeans and sexy heels that are like every other woman’s here,” is not something you hear often, so I embrace my own style instead of trying to look like everyone else.

8.  The guy I met at the bar this month approached me when I was sitting at the bar by myself waiting for my friends to arrive.  It’s definitely hard to go to a bar by yourself, but knowing you have people meeting you later makes it easier.  I’m a late person, but I might consider changing that to scope out that scene, pick a good spot and maybe chat up a guy before my group arrives.

Overall, I’d give my experiences this month with meeting men in bars a D.  Not good, but like I said, the mission wasn’t given the full attention it deserved.  In general, I’d say meeting men in bars gets a B- and if it works out, it’s nice to be the exception to the “you can’t meet men in bars” rule!

Why the hell am I trying to meet a guy in a bar?  It’s part of my great dating challenge of 2011.  Check it out here. 

Have you met a man at a bar?  Do you have any tips for zeroing in on the good ones, approaching a man or being approachable in a nightlife environment?

The What-What

Update: My non-boyfriend Facebook boyfriend let the request hang for about 24 hours before figuring it out and changing his status back.  I feel bad for him, but seriously, dude, tread lightly when it comes to Facebook relationships. 

I’ve got a lot of reading to do this weekend if I want to get off to a good start with my resolution of one fiction and one non-fiction book per month (it WAS the first one on the list after all).  I’m 3/4 of the way through Racing Weight and about 30 pages into Jodi Picoult’s Handle With Care. How about we just call it 12 of each for the year?

People with children have no boundaries.  My boss did not think twice about giving me the detailed play-by-play of how his two boys handled having the flu all week.  And someday I will likely do the same to my poor, unsuspecting coworkers.

I’m wanderlusting big time.  Belize is on the top of my list.  Well, was, and then this week, I saw this.  Maybe Europe.  And although I’m bummed that it probably won’t be 2011, that doesn’t mean it can’t be January 2012!

This weekend is the first bridesmaids dress shopping adventure with Bridezilla my sister.  Direct quote from an email I JUST got from her: “My dress is HERE! There will be many more times I will need to go in for fittings [ed. note: lies…she measured a perfect size 2 and I imagine it will fit like a dream] so this is to try it on just because I CAN!” I’m sorry, I get that she’s excited (and that I will likely be just as obnoxious when it’s MY turn), but is it October yet?  In other wedding news, my other October bride is a dream, but I think two of the bridesmaids are going to throw down before the big day.

My first half-marathon is tomorrow!  My long run a few weeks ago took me over the distance of the race, so I should be fine, but it also left me with a knee injury and I haven’t been training as much as I’d have liked in the past two weeks.  The doubting voices in my head have a few other things to say as well, but in 21 hours I’m going to shut them up and hit the pavement.

That will probably be the last mention of wellness and running here because I’m posting on that over at my new wellness blog!  The one I kinda skimmed over here.  It is my second attempt at a public blog (my last one bombed because it didn’t have a focus).  I’m struggling with keeping one anon and one public blog and building readership of both.  If anyone has tips, I’d love to hear them!  And if anyone would like to continue to read about my fitness adventures and kitchen mishaps, email me at emjaye [at] ymail [dot] com and I will be glad to send you the link!

I’m staying at my parents’ house over the weekend because they are closer to the race and to the dress shop and civilization in general.  And because they’re out of town.  And I’m totally having a party.  Well, not really.  I’m on the fence about asking my ArtWalk guy over to make dinner (date #2 was not as great as that first one) or inviting some friends over for a game night.  Yeah, I’m 26, but it still feels like I’m breaking the rules!

Oh yeah, and I need advice about ArtWalk guy.  When do you call an attempted relationship off?  There are no red flags, just a lackluster date, but the first was good!  Do we try again in a different environment?