All Those Dates

The 34-year-old marrying kind

This guy interrogated me. I felt like I was being screened for the position of wifey – did I live close by to have a convenient relationship, did our work schedules and sleep schedules mostly match, did we like the same foods, how many kids did I want. This was all via text btw. Heaven forbid we waste our time having a beer if I wasn’t willing to split Thanksgiving and Christmas between out two families. Okay, he didn’t ask that, but he may have eventually and it would have been too soon!

The 33-year old professional golfer

Despite having hair, he told me to look for the bald guy – hardy har har. He could have just told me to look for the guy with the awesome sock tan. It wasn’t bad, wasn’t good, wasn’t much of anything. He was too meek for my tastes.

The 22-year old baby manager

Yes, after our kiss in the rain, he hung around for a while. I decided it could just be fun, but he made it decidedly unfun. He wanted to date, but didn’t want to TALK to me and wasn’t very giving if you know what I mean. Ultimately, he broke up with me via text because he kept inviting me out with him and his friend, so I became friends with him and went to lunch with him because he works up by me. I actually think it’s a pretty funny story.

The 38-year-old bald westsider

I know. I know. In my last post I discussed how being from the westside is a flag in and of itself. Something about this guy’s smile reminded me of an ex, so I went for it. He was 25 minutes late. It was a totally dead restaurant and I was sitting at the bar, so I had to wait for the bartender to walk to the other side so I didn’t feel as lame and left at 20, then got a text while I was driving away that he “got there early and to look for the guy that’s 300 pounds.” First of all, making a cliché joke about online dating is lame, but for some reason popular with these guys, second of all, he was so late, but given that it apparently was a misunderstanding – he had set the time a week in advance and in confirming the date that day, neither of us confirmed the time – I turned back. Before I could give him shit for being late, he apologized, saying he thought the restaurant he picked was more expensive, which is kind of a lame excuse since there are ways to check on that if it was important to him and it wasn’t important to me. He then said we should have gone to a place two doors down, that yes, was more expensive, but that he wasn’t dressed for and he didn’t actually mean it because we stayed there. And THEN I got to tell him about his massive failure. His profile was a little misleading and the convo wasn’t all that great…I felt like I was being interrogated and he badmouthed Arizona and Scottsdale (pet peeve) and criticized my yoga approach even though he’s never done it. The date wasn’t bad enough to walk out on and I don’t have the balls to just call it an early night, so I put up with it and then he hugged me, asked me out again (wtf do you say?) then hugged me again and kissed my cheek and I was free. Fortunately the next day, he acknowledged he put me on the spot and did I actually want to go out again? So I said no.

This is why he’s single.

I started back up on Match. Ugh. My super optimistic plan is to fail in the first six months I’ve paid for to get their free six month guarantee.

One of my NYR is to go on 12 dates. It’s not many, but it sets a standard to go out at least once a month and Match is a good way to meet at least one guy a month to go out with without feeling like I’m going overboard and dating for dinner (although, skipping ahead a bit, that’s what I felt like this week).

However, since starting back on Match and in theory telling the universe I’m ready, I’m finding other options popping up. But that’s for another time. This post is really about how if I keep up with the bullshit of online dating I’ll get fat.

Not only will there be a lot of drinking and eating on dates, I tend to promise myself I’ll stop for a sweet treat if the date’s a bust. This week my first date since being back was no exception. I feel like everything about this guy screamed, “this is why I’m single!”

He lives in Glendale. A red flag I somehow missed in the qualifying stages.

He looked good in most pictures, but there was one that made me question it. The unfitting pieces sticking out in the one picture stuck out even more when I met him.

But, the date was set – and let’s be honest, month #1 was wrapping up and I appreciate staying on track – so off I went (to the place where I got dumped, then didn’t care that I got dumped because I had Lucky, ugh). And more NOs popped up.

He had bad teeth.

And he is 33 with four roommates.

And he has a terrible laugh (one of those, like uh huh huh huuuh, does that make sense?).

And he talked about himself, bourbon and sports (the boring ones) excessively, using “like” to pepper his sentences like (a proper use) a valley girl circa 1993.

And he had no clue I was sooo checked out the entire time. He was too busy burping.

Eventually the night ended, not early enough, but still with froyo piled with chocolate.

And now it’s been a few days and I haven’t heard from him. Um, he can’t reject me, I’m rejecting him!

But he’s SO cute.

I love HIMYM because it’s real and I can always relate it to my life. There’s an episode in which Barney describes the hot-crazy scale. A woman can be crazy, as long as she is equally hot. The first time I saw the episode, I wondered where I fell on the scale (I can admit I’m a little quirky), but now I realize it’s not just for chicks.

Last week, I signed up for Plenty of Fish (I know you see where this is going…this is obviously where all the crazies hang out). I was immediately over- and underwhelmed all at the same time, but I decided to actually give it a shot – a week – before bailing. Countless “hey” messages, too many emails from the westside and an unfortunate number of messages from younger guys filled up my inbox. Being on that site, the options are endless, so why would I waste time with a too-young guy who can’t write a decent message and lives an hour away? Delete, delete, delete.

I did manage to find a few decent guys, including one we’ll call Matt. Matt is mid-30s, a fit 6’3″ and if everyone supposedly looks like a celeb, he looks like Matt Damon (thus his super creative fake name). He works as a firefighter, but has a graduate degree and wrote a thoughtful first message. He seemed top-shelf for the site and I actually considered he was fake until he started bugging me to hang out. Not asking – bugging.

It came off as truly whiny and he was bugging me about it without actually asking me out for a specific day or time or activity – you know…like how NORMAL people make plans! I wanted to meet him, but I wasn’t going to cancel existing plans to do so and I wasn’t going to just stop by his work as he suggested because I’m not in high school. He told me I didn’t seem interested in meeting or learning about him. Womp, womp, womp.

Were we having out first fight?! Before we even met?!

So I had to have a CTJ with him about how dating works. He admittedly was a relationship guy and didn’t like dating. Ahem, because he’s BAD at it. Now, obviously I’m not the authority on the subject, but I know what works for me and generally I’ve found it vibes with most men as well. If there’s a spark, the guidelines all go out the window anyway and it just feels right and you don’t worry about it. It was not vibing with Matt.

He calmed down a bit, but still kept pushing, even on Saturday morning when we were meeting at 11. He sent me a text at 9:15 to ask if I could do earlier. Keep in mind, we had connected online I think on Wednesday and exchanged numbers on Thursday.

I told him I was starting a yoga class that got over at 10:45 and that’s when I’d be at the Starbucks across the street to meet him. So, yeah, that’s how excited I was about meeting this guy – I slid him in after a yoga class when I’d be sweaty and maybe a little stinky at the coffee shop I’d probably stop at on my way home anyway. He took note, but I don’t think he was all that offended.

Matt walked in a minute or so after me and looked just like his pictures – super cute, tall, solidly built. We got coffee, we grabbed a table outside, we had a conversation. Actually for about an hour and a half.

It was a normal date, but besides his super-quiet talking, something else was just a little off. Some of his conversation topics (past relationships), his future planning (I think he may have asked me to go with him to Oregon to his mom’s for Christmas?)…they just weren’t working. He was definitely trying to qualify me for this girlfriend position he apparently has open and I think he tried to have a CTJ with me about how I need to step it up and show interest.

I think I was distracted at the time – his eyes were beautiful, he had spectacular teeth and his shirt was just the right amount of tight – but I left feeling neither good nor bad about it. He bugged me to see each other again, but again without actually attempting to make plans. I again offered two days, he picked one.

On Tuesday, I realized we had talked over the weekend, but not on Monday and about that time got a “good morning, hope you have a good day” text from Matt. I responded with a “Thanks! You too!” And got an “okay, stranger.”

That was when I had to pull the trigger. I actually thought back and forth for a while, “he’s so cute…but he’s so weird…but he’s so cute, maybe he’s just awkward at first.” Ultimately I couldn’t get past it. I texted back to let him know while I appreciate his physical beauty and that we have things in common, we should skip Thursday because it wasn’t going to work out. He texted: “Agreed.”

Done and done.

I understand where he was coming from with his whining (although I obviously did not agree with his delivery)…he wanted to gauge chemistry and meet up and have me show interest, but you can’t force any of that and I really feel like he was trying to because we have similar interests and live somewhat close together and I think he liked my work schedule. Convenience does not a relationship make. And apparently neither does a guy just being really pretty to look at. It might have developed, but he didn’t give it any room to breathe, which is pretty much a flashing red flag that it is not going to work! He apparently saw it too, so why was he pushing it?!

Thanks, but no thanks.

Let’s take a little mid-week, mid-family-drama laugh break, shall we?

This was in my inbox this morning:

Well, the guy was, the commentary was in my head. If you know this man, please tell him THAT is not going to work out for him.

I signed up for six months on Match, so naturally Lucky was the first man I went out with.

My profile is hidden, but I still get these match blasts every day and I like to look at them to see who I know. I recently got matched with two guys I’d already gone out with during different stints on the site and shortly after meeting Lucky, I got matched with his bestie (very glad I met Lucky first)!

A Tale of Two-Point-Five Rejections

It was the worst of times, it was the worst of times.

Six months ago I got my personal training certification. It expires after two years and I didn’t want to sit on it and suddenly realize it’s December 2012 and I hadn’t yelled at a single fat person, so I’ve been looking for part time opportunities. The local Y chapter, which has 17 branches, is doing a major overhaul of its personal training program, basically trying to keep up with the explosion of CrossFit, and had a job fair to hire a bunch of new trainers.

I submitted my resume, which impressively lays out the fact that I read a book, took a test and really like to run, and got a call with a time to come to their job fair at the ghettoist branch they have. It was like when the kids go to the city in Adventures In Babysitting, except it was light out and there were no bad guys after me, so mostly I was just being a sheltered wuss.

I met with two friendly ladies, one old man who thought he was Jack LaLanne and one younger man who was the head honcho and looked like freaking Josh Duhamel, so you know…HOT. Since Joshy has played both bad guy and bad boy, I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of bad this man had in him (bad guy = bad, bad boy = good). Josh Duhamel 2.0 had had a quite unfortunate name. Like Drew Barrymore’s teasing nickname in Never Been Kissed, except it was his real last name.

Considering I don’t have any experience, I thought I did well in the interview, but it was one of those interviews that when you leave, you’re not sure if you’d be happier if they offered it to you or kind of relieved if they didn’t. I mean, if they did, I’d get to work with Mr. Not Grossy, but he’d be my boss.

If they didn’t, I’d keep up with the status quo. I had gone in thinking it was potentially a part time gig, but it was full time and had a “competitive salary,” and although we didn’t talk numbers, I’m pretty sure “competitive” in the PT world is not really anything compared to what I’m used to – and still struggling with – currently.

I hit the hiring fest at the end and the group was making decisions the next day, so I went home to wait it out with my men of Match.com to keep me company. And WHO do I see?! Mr. Not Grossy! Not only is he not married – did I mention I had noticed his lack of wedding ring in .8 seconds? – he’s single and looking, and oh yeah, still HOT. He had viewed my profile, which might explain why he was looking at me like he was trying to place me during the interview. But, alas, he had not emailed or even winked at runningmj. How rude (and completely silly).

Rejection count: .5

Now, I’m a great online dater and have no problem winking or emailing, but I decided if I was potentially going to be working with Mr. Not Grossy, I’d do best to leave the winking out of it.

On decision day, I got pushed off to a different branch, went for round two there and again had mixed feelings about it, so when that D-day came and I heard nothing, I was bummed and relieved at the same time. I didn’t have my heart on it, so that was fine, but still!

Rejection count: 1.5

I figured there wasn’t anything else to lose, so I logged on to match, found Mr. Not Grossy again and sent a quick “since I didn’t get the job, do I at least get a date?”

Not as cute typed out as it was in my head, but I was hoping that even though he didn’t like my profile enough on its own to email me, pair that with me in real life and it’s a no-brainer.

It’s been a few days and I have not yet heard back from Mr. Not Grossy. Maybe he’s not a member? Or maybe he is and…

Rejection count: 2.5

And I Dated Him WHY?!

No Name is back (ish).  He reappears every now and then and tries to make plans and sometimes I blow him off and sometimes I meet up with him.  Last week I met up with him, and here’s why – and by here’s why, I mean, he asked why I hang out with him and I told him:
 
  1. Because I want to find out why he keeps coming back randomly and wanting to hang out with me.
  2. Because it gets me out of the house.
  3. Because it will give me a good story for my blog.
  4. Because maybe when he goes to the bathroom, a cute guy will come hit on me.
  5. Because now I have something to tell my dad when he asks me who I dated this week.
  6. Because when I have an answer to that question, my parents get a glimmer of hope that their younger daughter isn’t going to die alone, and by alone, I mean surrounded by cats.
  7. Because I like sushi.
  8. Because it gives me legit plans so I don’t feel bad turning other men I don’t want to hang out with down.
 And the unspoken:
 
  1. Because he pays for the sushi.
  2. Because I can be abrasive and say what I think (mostly) and talk about my love life, but still flirt with him and he sticks around for all of that.
  3. Because I wanted to see if he’s grown a pair and/or if he’s learned how to kiss in a way other than that which can only be described as “my aunt smells like mothballs but I have to kiss her anyway.”

He never told me why he randomly wants to hang out.  The obvious answer would be because he gets a little something-something, but as per unspoken #3, he doesn’t.  It got me out of the house, but didn’t keep me away too long.  I’m obviously currently writing about it.  I didn’t get hit on while he wasn’t at the table.  No name was in real estate as was my dad, so it’s love already.  My parents did glimmer a bit.  The sushi was delish.  And I probably would have preferred the other guy who asked, but you never know which rando is going to ask you out for which day.

No Name did pay for the sushi, he did stick around during the MJ show and no he didn’t grow a pair and I’m assuming he hasn’t improved his technique.
 
Now, three has always been my favorite number, so let’s focus on that one – the first #3 that is.  He didn’t question it, so I’m not sure if he thinks I was joking, but I’ve noticed a trend in single lady bloggers lately – we are awesome and are not afraid to embrace a bad date for the sake of sharing it all over the internet. 
 
It wasn’t bad, wasn’t good, probably won’t do it again anytime soon.  And while nothing really blog worthy happened on that sushi date, stay tuned for other blog worthy tales.   
 
As a mini-update, this weekend, I went out with Bachelors #6, 7 and 8.  So, yeah, thanks to Match I’m back at it.
 

Matchmaker, Matchmaker

So….I signed up for Match over the weekend.  Just created a profile, really. 

But, the functionality of the site as well as the seeming quality of men on there – seriously, and we all KNOW my standards are actually getting higher, which makes no sense – got to me.  That plus the 29 emails I had received, but was unable to read or even see who they were from, had me reaching for my credit card. 

Yes, after bitching about money all weekend, I gave in and signed up.  For SIX months, which assuming failure, gives me another six for free.  Match Guarantee, they call it.  Match is actually guaranteeing me love.  And I’m sitting back like a surly teenager, arms crossed, showing them what a challenge they have on their hands.  I should probably read the fine print because I’m not sure what exactly counts.

The 29 emails quickly pared down to 15, but that’s still not terrible. 

I came up with these new rules for this new adventure:

This is about keeping my options open and I’m going to make it fit my life however I want. 

No younger men.

No out of area men, which may even include no west-siders.  Although I may or may not have already emailed a sexy lumberjack from Boise because that’s where I’m currently dreaming of living.

No lame jobs.

Be nice about height.  (Something new I’m trying after realizing how silly these people look.)

Deleting emails without responding is perfectly acceptable.  It’s a freaking smorgasboard, after all.

The emails are pinged to my email address attached to this blog, which is – gasp – a fake email address (well, real, but fake, but, well whatever) that I don’t check too often and that is not sent directly to my phone so I won’t be dealing with constant overload.

Skipping days between logging on is completely acceptable.  If I’m going to be at this for a year and spend an hour or two every time I log in, I could do it once a week and still kill 100+ hours of my life.  Ugh.

There are no dates per week or even month minimum.  And I’m not changing any plans for first or second dates.

Per Patti Stanger, online dating is just 1/3 of my dating search.  I’m still trying to be approachable IRL and asking to be set up – although I never actually have been.  The guys who it didn’t work out with don’t seem too keen on introducing me to their friends.  And the normal people who tell me they have someone for me never close the deal.  I’m not kidding here, folks, I’ll try anything!

No responding to men who lack originality.

No Cowboys fans.  This is not a new rule.  This is a non-negotiable.

Nothin’ Better To Do

Now that I’m no longer online dating, which at times seemed more like a chore and a task to be kept up with than the fun experience it was supposed to be, what is there to do with my time?

Start in on the stack of magazine I have that date back to last summer.

Have an impromptu Glee-a-thon.  All caught up now!

Remember how to kiss strangers in bars.

Haul ass on the treadmill. 

Master all 100 puzzles at all four levels of Sudoku on my phone.

Drool over foodie blogs.

Paint designs on my nails.  Seriously.  Shit is getting fancy over here.

Bake, bake, bake.

Browse the library.  It’s getting to be an addiction.

Read what I get at the library.

Read travel books from the library and plan fun trips.

Plan an escape.

Contemplate if I need an escape.

RSVP to Meetups. 

Cancel RSVPs to Meetups because the coed ones are just strange.

Forget that the coeds are strange.  Go.  Remember.

Discover YouTube.  Yes, like seven years late.

Sleep.

Be on time to work.

Do puzzles because they’re fun.

Keep up with my guilty pleasure, 16 and Pregnant.  Oh Morgan J. Freeman, you are truly a blessing to society.

Become a yogini.

Shop for baby showers.  Shop for a new bikini.  Shop for dresses.

Go on real dates.  Like with a man I met organically. Like tonight.

See ya, eHarmony!

Thanks, eHarmony, for reminding me how much fun it is to be in love EVERY TIME I log into your stupid site that has given me NOTHING.

I love the older couples featured on the site too, but I still think Kate and Justin are my favorite.

Perhaps the key to success on eHarmony is having a name that is some derivative of Katherine.

When I started on this wonderful journey, I thought one month was too short.  I thought three months was a sure thing.  Three months later, I realize I was wrong. 

I spent the last few weeks really trying too, even talking to men not in my area, which originally I was quite opposed to.  Blame it on the lovely tales of long-distance love that are floating around the blogsphere.  No such luck for MJ.  Long-distance or otherwise.

I went on sixish dates with fourish guys.  Three were nice, but there was no connection.  One was not nice, but I did find him probably the most attractive.  Oops. 

Even since him, which is when I gave up on the dating thing, I was still trucking away with my matches, but despite what appearances may suggest, I have NOT been declining dates left and right. It’s just not happening.

So, eH, it’s been real, but I’m totally over you. 

Overall, I didn’t like the structure of the site and the matching.  You don’t get to pick for yourself, which just denies the fact that attraction is actually important because apparently you’re not supposed to say that.  Then you have to exchange canned messages for a week.

What works for some, completely bombs for others, which really just reinforces my belief in destiny and fate and what not.  I believe my sister was destined to meet her guy and they were on the site at the same time and it was a good time in their lives and they fell in love. 

My fate awaits me elsewhere.

Frog #4 Redo

Remember the guy who came to the pool after I’d had a few too many and how we planned to go out this week to actually have a date?

I really wanted to like him.  He looked like Prince Charming.  He looked a little like TGISWOTSD.  I might have issues.  My friend called me later that night while she was out and perhaps a little drunk (again) and asked me what happened to him and told me he was fat, which, yeah, maybe, but I kinda like that.  Big, I call it, remember? He has a good job, he’s smart, he’s older, he’s easy going, he’s funny and he’s romantic (okay, maybe I’m assuming that based on the Prince Charming thing, but a girl woman can hope).

Anyway, totally wanted to like him, so even though I felt so over dating, I was excited for the date.  Until he texted me three hours before.   

Because I had wrecked our first planned date, I was okay being flexible, but now we’re even.  Let’s face it, this guy got a decent deal at the pool anyway – he didn’t have to pay for any of my drinks, he saw me seven-eighths of the way naked and he copped a bit of a feel.

He had to cover a meeting for his boss and could we reschedule for Thursday? 

No, I’m an honorary Mexican and will be celebrating Cinco de Mayo. 

(Okay, this was NOT true when I told him that, but I LOVE Cinco de Mayo and would much rather spend it with friends than on a first date.  Who even goes on a first date – presumably to a bar or lounge – on a major drinking holiday anyway?  I knew something would come up so I left tonight open and am currently on my way out the door to revel with some ladies for at least a little bit!)

Friday?  Another pool day on Saturday?  No, seeing a band on Friday and I already have a pool party that you’re not invited to (I didn’t say that, but I don’t intend to invite him to another pool day) on Saturday.

Just because I’m flexible doesn’t mean I’m readily available.

Okay, well the meeting will get over at like eight and it’s up in my area anyway, could he call me and we could meet up then?

Instead of the date, I was going to the gym after work and meeting up after that meant two showers.  I don’t like getting ready twice in one day so I had to seriously contemplate this.  Water, environment, lazy, my poor hair, my diminishing supply of $1.99 huge bottle of L.A. Looks hair gel (seriously it is the best shit out there for these curls). 

But, he looks like Prince Charming and I’d already kinda met him and he wasn’t awful.

The law is, however, if I don’t get ready, assuming he won’t call (wow, I have such faith in men), he will and if I do get ready thinking he’ll call, he won’t.  This actually is the case with friends too.

I got ready, he didn’t call. EVERY time I’m right! I gave him a window before crashing early and assumed I might have a text when I woke up.  Nada.

The next day?  Nada.

Today?  A just about first thing in the morning “Happy Cinco” text.

Sorry, dude, that’s just unoriginal.  I’ve dated you before.  You know, the guy who blows you off and then disappears until he thinks you’ve forgotten about it and reappears without any mention of it? 

It worked for the last guy, but I was 23 and I’ve since learned my lesson.  You, my supposed Prince Charming, are a frog.  Thank you for validating my decision to call off the mission.