A Surprise Twist

The past few posts have been far too serious and actually kind of depressing so perhaps it’s time for a break. In the form of a humiliating tale about my complete inability to read guys. Doesn’t that sound like fun? I thought so.

It all began in the spring of 2011, that’s right kidlets this was months of complete obliviousness. I attended my lovely friend’s wedding and was taken by the tall, grinning groomsman. Because that’s what you’re supposed to do when you attend a wedding solo, fall in love with the wedding party. The only problem was he had a date who wasn’t really a date, but it seemed like enough of a date to make it difficult to make a move. That and I’m not smooth enough to make a move under even the most promising of circumstances, so the faux date was as good enough reason as any to be a complete pussy about it. I did manage to squeeze in a half dance, which was enough for me to decide that our wedding was undoubtedly going to be next.

Despite this undisputed conclusion, I departed that night with nothing to show for it. Not to fret, after I expressed my interest to the bride with a “squeeeeeeee” she assured me I would see him again at various gatherings she and her new husband would be hosting. There were housewarmings and holiday parties. But each time my efforts brought me no closer to my goal. Oh sure I’d flirt here and there and I’d get a flirt or two back. But no real progress was made.

I was about ready to throw in the towel when the perfect opportunity was presented. There would be a New Year’s party, hosted by the object of my affection (we’ll call him M to protect the innocent and disinterested). Where else would it be perfectly acceptable to kiss the object of your affection making your intentions fully known?

I had made plans to attend with the friend who made our love possible (L from this point forward) and a few others. But that was the one night Minnesota had decided she had been far too easy on us this winter and she would make up for it by spewing holiday-destroying flakes upon the roadways. This meant that L and her husband would not be making the trek to the party. I could see each layer of snow covering my visions of Jordan almonds and white doves.

But what good fortune! The others came through and agreed to accompany me to M’s party despite the fact that I would know only two people at what would amount to a high school class reunion for the others in attendance. We arrived and I immediately felt like Samantha Baker at the popular party. My friends and I mixed and mingled and it was all well and fine until Lauren (not the previously mentioned “L”) implored me to make a move on M, because what else was I here for?

Determined not to let Lauren down, I went for it. I flirted hard. It was a thing of beauty. He was reciprocating. It was magical like a ‘90s coming of age movie. I was Laney Boggs transformed…or something. There was one problem. He kept fracking disappearing. At first I thought it was because he was playing host. He would always return though, to flirt again. But eventually I was frustrated with the stalemate. So I sent L a text telling her that he was not succumbing to my womanly wiles and I was giving up.

On the way out the door I ran into a guy I never would have expected to see at this party. He had lived with an ex of mine in Mankato. I reintroduced myself and we bashed my ex for a bit before I asked how he had come to attend this event.

He replied simply “I’m dating M.”

It was a shock, but I kept my cool, because I am fly like that, “Oh? You are? That’s nice. He’s a good guy.”

“Yep he’s a keeper,” was his grinning reply and then I wanted to scratch his eyes out. Not really, but c’mon!

And then I bolted. I said goodbye to M, maintaining that suave demeanor until I was in my car. At that point I looked at Lauren and just said “SERIOUSLY!?” before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.

This is not the first time I set my sights on someone with arguably ambiguous sexual orientation. But it was the first that I had put myself that far out there. I still hold he was knowingly giving me mixed signals. Playing with my fragile, nitwitted little heart. All just for kicks. Shame on you, M! But also shame on me, the next day I resolved to fine-tune my gaydar over the course of the next year. 

Strange Encounters of the Hot Mess Kind

I didn’t think I had it in me, but apparently I possess the ability to crumble into a steaming pile of spaz with merely a glimpse of a guy I dated for a few months so long as that glimpse also includes an impossibly skinny brunette. There was a time that I dreamt I had more dignity than that, but I was wrong. Because today a poorly timed siting at Rainbow Foods just completely ruined my shit.

He was one of many who disappeared without so much as a “nice knowing you” over the past year. (Side bar: my 26^th year isn’t nearly as pathetic as it sounds… post side bar: that’s a lie.) Nothing really separates him from the others who have come and gone. In fact, as a recovering cheater with a penchant for recreational pill popping, he was “action-packed with issues” and a less suitable match than some of the others. It was only the perfect storm of pitiful that snowballed into a terrifically tragic experience.

Given the fact that he lives in my apartment complex, I had always known it would only be a matter of time before we ran into each other. But I hoped that time would come when I was put together and gorgeous and could be all breezy and classy about it. I had gone grocery shopping a hundred times in the past year and each time I managed to look like a human being with working shower. Instead my moment came in the form of an emergency grocery run. After I had spent an entire day scrubbing floors, dusting, baking and painting in a dirty t-shirt and jeans. In short, I looked less than stellar, smelled like a foot and wasn’t in the most charming of moods.

In a fair, benevolent world, I would have looked like this.

Reality was much different.

So when I saw him mulling over the merits of Tropicana compared to Simply Orange, all I could do is offer up an idiotic smile and a dopey wave before I darted down the wrong aisle. Naturally the last item I needed was in the exact opposite direction I had headed so I my only real option was usher past him once again on my way to the dairy case. It was during this excruciating backtracking that I caught a glimpse of the cute brunette who was helping him make his serious vitamin C-related decisions. A perfect picture of domesticity on this holiday weekend. From the guy who couldn’t commit to plans more than an hour in advance because his life was just too up in the air one short year ago.

The worst part about it is, if I’m being honest, had I been seeing someone I wouldn’t have been at all derailed by this encounter. Even if Mr. Wonderful wasn’t there with me, the thought of having someone would have been enough to buffer the blow that someone I barely know from Adam was inexplicably able to deliver with only his presence paired with some random bird. Because all it really comes down to is winning.

It’s not about thinking I missed out on a relationship with this guy. It was simply about wanting to look better and be happier than someone who dismissed me without a second thought. My ego had been bruised and the only thing that would fix it is declaring victory in the most superficial of arenas. Alas, he won this round. But at least I learned a valuable lesson: never leave the house looking like a strung out monstrosity. Ever. 

Six Years Later “The Game” Still Has Our Attention?

Or "How to Score Loads of Vapid Chicks"

Years ago I read “The Game” mostly out of morbid curiosity and the desire for a mindless read. I didn’t take it too seriously and imagined it was a fad that would quickly fade. Apparently I was sadly mistaken given the fact that the practices employed by the author are alive and unwell to this day. Well, alive enough that this blogger found it worth writing about. Despite the chastising intentions laid out in the headline, 95 percent of the post explores how these skeevy pick-up artists are “meeting a very real need.”

He does spend the tail end of the article explaining why negging is a misogynistic tactic, but the overall tone of the piece was not the sound thrashing I had hoped he would deliver. Rather he seems to justify many of their actions by explaining the validity negging method. (Also, he’s got to find a different term for one who employs the negging tactic. Maybe try saying it aloud before committing it to the page/screen.)

He speaks to the fact that by offering up a back-handed compliment these men are paying more attention to something deeper in the woman. Because he has “taken the time to notice the woman he’s negging” more so than a man who simply offers up a compliment. Sorry Hugo, but this is complete bull. It takes less effort to offer up a back-handed insult about a woman’s bangs (as in the example he gave) or clothes or anything else worth insulting on the fly than it does to come up with a truly sincere compliment.

Sure many women are immune to oh-so-thoughtful lines like “you’re hot” or “am I in heaven?” but many (I think) would be open to something less generic that says just a bit more than “I want to be on you.” “I love you’re haircut, it looks great on you,” may seem simple but at least it says more than a blanket compliment in that it addresses both the fact that you find her attractive and you admire her sense of style. Or better yet, have an actual conversation with her and compliment her on her taste in books, adventuresome spirit or benevolent extra curricular activities.

While a neg may appear to be more personal than “you’re beautiful” the thought behind it has nothing to do with the uniqueness of the woman herself. It’s about the self-proclaimed PUA. The entire process of the neg and the pick-up is about their ego.

No, I’m afraid the “true effectiveness of this game” isn’t because these men actually care enough to offer up more than a standard pick up line. It’s more likely because these men hedge their odds by hitting on more women than the average male. Not to mention hitting on women who wouldn’t be of much interest to any man of substance. In reality, encouraging men to look to negging as an example of learning to see a woman on a deeper level is misleading and frankly a bit lazy.

The Online Saga Part 4: The Land of 1001 First Dates

I’ve quickly come to realize the world of online dating is simply one in which first dates are handed out like urine mints in a classy restaurant. Just as in a bar setting, most individuals are willing to take an hour or two to get to know a stranger they consider at least somewhat attractive. Initially upon embarking on this online endeavor I considered that one (if not the only) benefit of online dating would be the ability to pre-screen my prospects and filter out the definite “no’s” before wasting time with the face-to-face step. And while this is valid on some level, I’m beginning to think the main difference between online dating and the bar scene seems to be more in volume rather than quality of match (also the sky is blue).

Essentially if you believe finding that elusive Mr. I’ve-Been-Waiting-For-You-All-My-Life is nothing more than a game of odds, you’ll never get more rolls of the dice than you do with eHarmOKMatch.com. I’ll admit, in the past, I’ve been skeptical of friends who had great difficulty moving beyond the first date in the online dating realm. I thought if you’ve already had many of those deal breakers and that initial conversation sorted out before the actual meeting, you’ve overcome half the battle.

I fear I may have been wrong (Le Gasp!). It turns out that people are not nearly as charming in real life as they are via the written word (Le Gasp Part Deux!). (This includes myself as well, given the fact that the one individual I still considered fairly promising after the first date never called, but that’s another story for another time.)

The first guy I met up with had induced a smile or two through our screening correspondence so I saw some potential promise in him. In person he had all the personality of his sister’s Labrador Retriever —the one who starred in 95 percent of his anecdotes for the evening. I’m pretty sure another gentleman I met was looking for a psychiatrist to explain why his family doesn’t want to spend any time with him. The conclusion I drew was that they got sick of him talking about nothing other than how awesome it was to ride bike all day every day. Especially since he did so in the voice of Foghorn Leghorn. I must also note that I use the term “gentleman” very loosely as we split the bill right down the middle despite the fact that he ordered two drinks and one espresso more than I had.

The first date I had this past weekend may turn into a second. I’m not entirely sure that I’m feeling it, but I am considering it if just to break the cycle. Also, he didn’t talk like a cartoon chicken and only had one story about a dog he didn’t own, so that’s promising.

I know I shouldn’t be surprised at my findings. Meeting someone based on a profile they’ve (in some cases) carefully put together for the sole purpose of attracting a match is obviously not going yield the most genuine results. Not to mention there is no way to convey that funny, butterfly chemistry that inexplicably happens when two people just click. Because I still believe in that dammit! Fun fact, I also believe in unicorns and the moon landing. 

I Saw the Sign and Read Way Too Much Into It

Women are idiots. I know this, because, as a woman, I’m an idiot. We take every little look, touch, clothing choice, text, e-mail, Facebook status update, etc. and read everything we can into it. I hear girls give their account of a dating situation, seeking a well-intentioned but completely inaccurate analysis from their friends and they sound like the flighty back up singers of a Betty Everett song.

“Ok well he asked for my number and I gave him my information, but he e-mailed me instead of calling, so that must mean he doesn’t really want to see me but he felt he had to contact me right?”

“He hasn’t wanted to hang out for over a month, but he still contacts me. So what is that? Is he still interested but just too busy? Is he just keeping me on the back burner until he feels like he wants a relationship?”

“So we went out with his friends, but he didn’t announce to them that I was a girlfriend, so he hates me right?”

Trite. Obsessive. Ridiculous. And all too familiar. I recognize the absurdity in these discussions,  and yet I continue to have them. There are numerous women in my life who are intelligent and understand that it is a complete waste of time to attempt to uncover the deeper meaning in a man’s actions, but they do it anyway. So I have no choice but to believe it’s in inherent in my female nature. Or maybe the average man just bores us so we create depth where it cannot be found.

I can’t imagine a group of guys sitting around having this same conversations we do after a date.  Even more improbable is the thought of them carefully planning their every move in order to hide a deeper meaning beneath the surface of each of their actions. Sure, girls might do it, but let’s be honest, we have more dimensions in our iridescent nail polish than they have in their entire being. So this begs the question, why do we even bother?

Ok this has turned into a lot of man hating. They aren’t as shallow as I pretend they are. It’s just an attempt to nurse an ego that has been wounded by the knowledge that I’ve made erroneous assumptions about the men in my life and their intentions based on actions are no more meaningful than brushing my teeth. (Although maybe he brushed his teeth differently today because he knew I would notice and be impressed…)

The truth is this over-analysis only ever does more harm then good. It can make us, and the guy, more self-conscious than either of us needs to be. He may even be so paranoid about our analysis of his dating tactics that he decides never making a move is better than making one that gets torn apart by the girl and her friends the moment they part ways.

Maybe it’s because we’ve long fallen victim to the game so we are constantly trying to stay one step ahead the only way we know how, understanding the players better than they understand themselves. Either way it should probably stop lest we make dating so complicated that both genders give up altogether.

Don’t Call Me Baby

What is it about pet names that causes virtual strangers think they can use them in their sad, desperate attempt at closing a girl? The word “baby” does not carry the magical weight of abracadabra, yet I’ve seen men use in a manner that suggests they are hoping to make the beautiful assistant’s clothes instantly disappear. Maybe this works on girls lacking brain cells and self worth, but I can’t imagine the average girl would be swept away the moment a guy whispers sweet nothings into her ear. This is especially irritating in cases where the individual attempts to invoke the power of a pet name when they barely know my given name. 

Recently, a gorgeous, sandy-haired gentleman caught my eye at a local tequila bar. Being the stunning, confident woman I am, I sent my friend over to strike up a conversation. After I awkwardly worked my way into the tepid water my friend’s ice breaking efforts had produced, I discovered my handsome stranger was actually fairly charming and interesting. He was from the area, but his pursuits as an actor led him to Los Angeles nine years ago. I was surprised to find that actor was, in fact, not a euphemism for waiter—he claims he just wrapped up filming of an episode of Castle—but given the fate of our encounter it was all fairly irrelevant.

Our chemistry and mad dancing skills made quite the impression on the other dancers at the bar (this wasn’t a difficult feat given the sheer lack of bodies on the non-existent dance floor) and we seemed to connect on some level. I was well aware our connection wouldn’t go anywhere beyond this particular evening given the fact that he was flying back to California on Monday morning, but I didn’t care, we were having fun. What surprised me is that he knew, possibly even more so than I did, that our encounter wouldn’t go much farther than bar close, yet he insisted on referring to me as baby and baby girl.

I don’t even particularly care for these references when I’m actually dating someone so to get it from someone whose last name would forever remain a mystery to me was actually a bit grating. The gratuitous use of these affectionate names transformed him from an enchanting stranger to your standard creeper who will say anything to get into a girl’s pants. I immediately laughed and told him that he didn’t need to call me baby because I would not be sleeping with him. He was a bit taken aback but ended the use of all insincere terms of endearment for the rest of the night.

Perhaps I overreacted. Maybe he wasn’t after what I thought he was after (though his other behavior would also prove my theory to be accurate), but I can’t imagine any instance in which a man would call a girl “baby” or “baby girl” so flippantly unless he was trying to create the illusion of familiarity that would allow the girl to more readily hook up with a complete stranger. That and he probably doesn’t remember her real name. So my advice to those who wish to use sugary terms to refer to members of the opposite sex, is please refrain from doing so at least until you know their last name, any other usage is completely transparent and more than a little crude. 

The Mysterious Case of the Disappearing Man…Act II

If my recent experiences are any indication, the disappearing act has regrettably become a regular part of modern dating behavior. The previously mentioned boy—the one who caused those awkward teenage girl feelings—inexplicably pulled the untenable maneuver last week. After showing a fair amount of interest on the first couple dates, asking to see me again and setting up a date he would ultimately blow off, the guy vanished.

Friends offered a myriad of potential explanations: “he was leaving and didn’t want to get attached,” “maybe he read your blog and freaked out,” “he just likes playing games.” Whatever the reason, I was once again left completely in the dark, feeling a bit blue.

The rather superfluous level of interest I had in this individual caused the disappearance to have a sobering effect. In an effort to pull me out of my brooding funk, my friend offered some advice, “use it as a learning experience, consider what you did wrong and change it the next time around.” I pondered this idea, looking back on the few dating experiences I had with this guy to determine exactly where I had gone wrong. The problem was I couldn’t think of anything I should have done differently. Essentially I behaved precisely as the person I am and anything I would have done differently would have been fake and part of a game.

I’m not saying I am flawless in every dating situation, but if you aren’t allowed to make a mistake or two without prompting the guy to run in the opposite direction, his expectations may need to be adjusted.

While I think people should learn from all experiences in life, I don’t think the lessons in this case necessarily illustrate how hopelessly flawed I am. As a firm believer in the process of constantly improving oneself, self-reflection (and sometimes self-flagellation) has become a way of life. However, it seems using a brief interlude with a virtual stranger to illuminate the areas in need of improvement may prove to be a slippery slope.

If we scrutinize every bad dating experience fully expecting to discover fatal errors within ourselves, it becomes a dangerous game. Not only will it inexorably dent our self worth, it threatens the very essence of our personality. If we alter our behavior every time someone decides that something in us makes us undatable, we will be bouncing back and forth desperately trying to define ourselves by someone else’s estimation of us.

This becomes especially detrimental when the individual rejecting us only knows us on a superficial level. 

Someone may be able to determine if you aren’t the person for them after a couple dates, but they certainly don't know you well enough to suggest that something is inherently wrong with you. After I realized how little my crush actually knew about me, I quickly pulled myself out of my despondent mood ready to move on to the next romantic mistake.

Liking Someone is Teh Suck

I’ve recently met someone I actually like. This is an incredibly unusual occurrence for me in recent years. I’ve met people I’ve been attracted to. I’ve met people with whom I enjoy spending time. I’ve met people who make me laugh. Still, that perfect storm that causes those crazy/mushy/hopeful/ridiculous sentiments has been absent.

After what seems like a perpetual cycle of lukewarm dating experiences, I am surprised to find myself legitimately engrossed in the character of one particular individual. It’s completely unnerving.

The feelings don’t run terribly deep. We’ve only hung out a couple times—and, due to extraneous circumstances, our interactions will inevitably end soon—but it’s prompted something more than I’ve encountered in awhile.

I am used to having this sense of control over my dating situations. It’s not that I’ve lost all of my faculties over this guy. However, I am finding myself parsing conversations for subtext, analyzing his actions and reconsidering my own—general nervous, school-girl behavior one exhibits upon developing a crush. All of this is absolutely unnecessary especially taking into consideration the fact that this guy is one of the most straightforward people I’ve ever met. The situation is completely devoid of the weird games and tactics that usually come with the dating scene. Regardless, the over-thinking, silly stupidity has reared its foolish little head and it sucks.

It’s not even that the feelings are unreciprocated; he seems to genuinely like me. I just find myself actually looking forward to seeing him, and my mind does that terrible wandering thing where I find it flitting over thoughts of him without any conscious direction on my part—it’s gross. I like to think that I’ve become relatively unflappable in my interactions with members of the opposite sex, but something about this boy seems to have struck my Achilles’ heel.

It’s not a dire situation by any means, but it’s as bit uncomfortable knowing that someone has even the slightest ability to impact my pragmatic, empirical outlook on romance. It makes me feel awkwardly fifteen again. Some people live for this feeling. They love the dizzy high brought on by infatuation. Those people are crazy. Still, I guess there is really nothing to do at this point, nothing but to embrace this inconvenient giddiness and hope that I make it out with my delightful cynicism still intact.

The Return of the Lying Narcissist

About a month ago I went on a terrible first date, after which I indicated to the individual that I had no desire to pursue any sort of relationship with him. However his friends were interesting, laid back and fun to be around. So when his roommate asked if I wanted to meet up with the group on a couple of occasions when the liar was not around, I saw no reason to decline. Perhaps I should have this past weekend.

On Friday night I agreed to venture to Uptown to have a couple drinks with the group of friends I have been spending time with over the past month. However, this time, the liar was there. I didn’t think anything of it. We had gone out one time more than a month earlier; there was no reason to make things awkward. He disagreed.

From the moment I got there he seemed to think I had come to see him. His hand was on my waist or he was whispering things in my ear, telling me how much money he makes at his father’s company (be a proud product of nepotism my friend, I hope it gets you far). The ridiculousness of the situation was almost amusing, until it got creepy. A guy at the next bar stopped me to compliment my haircut and when I lingered to have a conversation with him, the liar kept appearing. On one occasion he told the individual I was conversing with that I was his girlfriend.

When I regrouped with my friends the liar approached me with a proposition. “Let’s make a deal that you can dance with whoever you want,” he said. I responded with a blank stare and a simple, “Yes. I know.”

Things only got weirder as the evening wound down. I dropped him, and the individual I had been enjoying time with, off at their apartment. After the friend got out of the car the liar immediately accused me of hooking up with his friend and somehow came to the conclusion that we could still be friends. I agreed with complete indifference and headed home.

I didn’t get far before I got a phone call from the liar asking me where his roommate was, accusing me once again of having salacious relations with him and then asking me if he still had a shot with me. When I informed him that no, as I had said one month earlier, I would not be interested in dating him, he told me that it was good because it wouldn’t have worked out anyway. This particular conversation ended with the conclusion that we would never see each other again and again my apathetic reply was “ok.”

You would think he would have had enough, but he had not. He proceeded to send me a text informing me that he know one thing about me and that was the fact that I was judgmental and then proceeded to thank me for hanging out with him that night. In between his manic texts his roommate tells me that the two had just got in a huge fight because the liar told him he was no longer allowed to be my friend. After all “neither one of us has a chance with her, so what is the point.” Yes what is the point? If you can’t have a romantic relationship with an individual they are clearly not worth talking to. Grow up my arrogant friend. Some people have many things to offer on various levels of relationships that have nothing to do with romantic intentions.

I guess the moral of this little tale is that people like this do exist. I was completely shocked by this guy’s behavior on every plane from bragging about achievements that were not his to own to borderline racist comments inspired by unfounded jealousy. If anything, his ludicrous behavior solidified the conclusion I had drawn a month earlier.

The situation also posed an issue for me. I immensely enjoy hanging out with this crazy individual’s friends when he is not a part of the equation, but I don’t know if that can be done without encountering the whirlwind of drama he brings with him when he appears on the scene. So what do I do? Let him indirectly dictate who I can befriend or run the risk of having another awkward run in with someone whose blinding egotism causes behavior that no well-balanced individual should be capable of? I guess I haven’t really decided at this point, but I do know I my life wouldn’t be lacking if I never cross paths with this individual again.

First date fail

There is some first date behavior that is just unacceptable and pretty much eliminates the possibility of a second date, among them is hitting on other women and lying. I was privileged enough to experience both of these this weekend.

I met this guy at a bar (strike one?) and actually had an intelligent conversation about proper grammar—take me now sailor. But seriously I was pretty excited about the prospect of seeing him again by the end of the night, so when he texted me on Monday (yeah that’s another whole issue) to set something up for Friday I readily accepted.

The date started out great in spite of the fact that it was a group event because his friend was in from out of town and he was having people over. He was intellectual, was well on his way to being a lawyer, signing up for the Big Brother program, etc. We headed downtown and around 12:30 the magic happened.

He disappeared after he went to replace a drink he had knocked out of a girl’s hand. This to me was completely acceptable; taking 15 to 20 minutes to come back and crowding her space at the bar, however, is a little sketchy. After a series of events he came back to explain that the girl was a friend from high school and they were just catching up. The story really didn’t jive but I went with it for awhile. Later I pulled one of his friends aside and discovered what I expected, the boy had lied.

He apologized a multitude of times, explained what really happened and asked for a second chance. I’ve toyed with the possibility, but have since realized it’s really not worth the trouble even if things were going well initially. The majority of my friends backed me on this decision, but one thought I should give him another shot.

I came to the conclusion that if someone is willing to lie on a first date, it doesn’t bode well future behavior. I’m taking it as a sign of immaturity and won’t risk wasting time on someone who couldn’t even give me the common courtesy of an honest first date.

Seeking a Man with a Plan

I’ve recently been pondering yet another of my apparently antiquated expectations when it comes to dating. I am of the belief that when someone asks another person on a date, the asker should have a plan set in place. The askee should be informed of time, location and, if necessary, proper attire within an appropriate amount of time before said date.

This rule should carry through the initial dating period until you get to that comfortable boyfriend/girlfriend stage where you ultimately do nothing more than cuddle and stare lovingly at each other. Or, in less successful situations, sit bitterly and silently watching American Idol or CSI on opposite ends of the couch.

In all seriousness, having a plan set in place illustrates the fact that the asker not only cared enough to want to spend time with the person they asked, but that they actually were willing to take the time to put some level of thought into the date. To me, the I-don’t-know-what-do-you-wanna-do game is not only vexatious, but it says “you’re not worth the energy it would take to pick a restaurant, movie or other date night activity.”

I’ve heard multiple arguments as to why this idea is everything from unnecessary to slightly esoteric. The claim I hear the most often is, “we’re just being considerate. How else would we know what you want to do?” Well this appears to be a valid point, it really isn’t. The askee then has the pressure on their shoulders to come up with something both of you would enjoy doing, when the asker should take on this responsibility.

The simple way around this is, do your homework. Talk to the person you asked out, figure out their interests and work off of that. You can questions as basic as “what’s your favorite food, what kinds of movies do you enjoy” or kick it up a notch with “how do you feel about weekends in Paris?”

Or, for a date with a more unexpected personalized touch, do a little research (stalking). Ask mutual friends what the person enjoys doing. If you are Facebook friends (which is likely given the fact that anyone you come into contact with for more than five minutes is suddenly Facebook-friend material), check out their page. It’s a bit stalkerish, but reading the “About Me” and “Favorites” section on the person’s profile is a far cry from peeping into his or her bedroom window with high-powered binoculars.

Bottom line is, if the person is worth asking out on a date, it’s definitely worth spending ten minutes developing a plan of action for that person. Less, if it’s the standard dinner/movie combo, which is perfectly acceptable. Just don’t make the askee track you down for details, it’s awkward and completely inconsiderate.

The Case of the Vanishing Coward

I don’t go into dating situations expecting much. Maybe it’s because I’m realistic or maybe I’m just jaded. However, I don’t think it’s too much to expect someone to have enough consideration and respect for another human being to give them a courtesy call, e-mail or text when they no longer wish to continue seeing them. I’m not asking for a detailed explanation as to why you want to end things, a simple “hey not really into you anymore” would be fine.

Choosing to ignore my calls, texts, Facebook messages, what have you, is immature and contemptible. Yet this was the route a guy I was recently dating chose. We had been seeing each other for about three months when frequent texts, phone calls and Facebook chats turned to crickets. It wasn’t as though we had only gone on one date. I had spent full days with him nearly every weekend for the past couple months, so I didn’t immediately get the hint when I didn’t hear much from him.

Listening to well-intentioned advice from optimistic friends, I continued to text him for about a week after his responses dropped off. It’s not that the people who gave me this advice were naïve, it’s just that they couldn’t imagine why a grown man (he is almost 30) would end any sort of dating relationship in such an adolescent way.

I’m sure he and his friends found my efforts to contact him after he decided he was done with me to be desperate. However, that assessment is completely unfair because had I known that he was trying to extricate me from his life I wouldn’t have bothered with it. I ended up feeling like a complete fool through no fault of my own.

It’s not as though I am heartbroken over the situation, a soul mate this man is not (obviously), but my ego has taken an unnecessary blow. To think that someone would have the acrimony to be so discourteous to a person they obviously enjoyed spending time with at one time is wholly disheartening.

In my opinion if a person contacts you after even a first date, and you are no longer interested, the urbane and adult thing to do is be upfront and tell that other person how you feel. Anything less is utterly reprehensible.

Yes, No, Maybe So

I’ve decided that, in dating, there is no other response more irritating than “maybe” when it comes to making plans. What does maybe mean? You deign to spend time with me if nothing better comes along? Are you playing a game? “Yes” I get. It means, “I would love to hang out with you, thanks for asking.” Although “no” can be a little muggy, is still decipherable. If you legitimately have plans, it just means “no.” If you have no plans, it simply means “I don’t want to see you.” Either way it is much clearer than “maybe.”

If you give me a “maybe” because you potentially have plans but nothing has solidified, I can grasp that. However, if your “maybe” is vaguely dependent on your mood that day, then forget it. I don’t need to be waiting on you to make a decision about my plans. If you don’t think I’m worth hanging out with when you have absolutely nothing better to do, then I’m sorry, but you aren’t worth my time when you do decide to make plans with me.

Being “maybed” puts you in such an uncomfortable position. Do you bring the subject up again? Do you even bother contacting the person in the meantime? I hate how much control I lose with a “maybe” answer.

Just yesterday, for the first time I asked a guy I’m seeing if he would like to do something this weekend. In the entire time we’ve been dating, I have never once initiated a phone call or a date. I didn’t want to put myself in the position where he could turn me down. But, I’ve started to like him and I have been thinking maybe I should be making more of an effort. So I floated an idea by him thinking there is no way he is going to say “no” if he isn’t busy. He has pursued me steadily for months now, so why in the world would he decline?

However, the answer I got was much worse than a flat-out “no.” He said “maybe.” My mind has been trying to grasp just what that means for the past couple days. In regard to the questions I posed earlier I decided that, no, I would not be bringing the subject up again. And, no, I will not be initiating contact with him in the interim. I actually made plans for the “maybe” day. Not really sure where this is going to land me but I know that I am fairly interested to see how this is going to pan out. Both for myself and for him.

Interest Fades

My relationships whether serious or casual seem to go through the same cycle: he finds me amazing, I am pursued heavily, I start to let my guard down and his interest fades, usually inexplicably. I tend to take it very personally even though I never have any solid evidence that my character or personality suddenly pushed him away.

My question is am I entitled to some sort of explanation as to why the interest waned? Will it do me any good? Does the reason really matter in the long run? I’m the type of person who over thinks everything. Typically, when the state of affairs changes abruptly, I can’t stop running things through my head, trying to pinpoint the exact moment or infraction that caused the shift.

I’m not sure why I do this. It never does me any good. Ultimately I don’t think it matters why he lost interest. There really isn’t anything I could have done to turn it around. If there was some aspect of my personality that caused the reversal, then so be it. If I had known what it was, I wouldn’t change who I am because one person was disinterested.

If it was something in his life that caused the drop off, there is nothing I could do to affect the situation. So no matter which way I look at it, it is out of my hands and on his head. I have to be secure enough in myself to not be distracted or influenced by a man who didn't realize my worth.

Experiencing Technical Difficulties

We’ve all contemplated the shortcomings that come with advancements in technology. In particular, what it has done for communication. While we can reach people at almost any time using a plethora of methods, these methods are not always clear. Recently this has lead to a miscommunication that has compelled me to write a semi-retraction to my previous entry.

While most of the sentiments expressed stand true, the outcome and perceived character of the guy in question has been altered due to recent developments. The conversation in which he expressed his inability to be involved with someone who would not sleep with him took place via text message (which in and of itself is, for lack of a better word, sketchy). During an actual phone conversation, it was revealed that he was willing to see where things would go and that whether or not sex would be involved in the deal was irrelevant.

Now that I’ve cleared that up for my readers, let’s focus on the issue of the miscommunication as a side effect of advanced methods of communication. When important conversations don’t take place organically there is a lot of room for misunderstandings. The clarification that comes with intonation, facial expression, pauses, etc. is completely lost during discourse that takes place over text or IM.

One should take this into consideration when conversing with his or her significant other. Solid relationships are based on solid communication. It’s not exactly a fascinating revelation, but it is an important point nonetheless. I think we forget that good communication is not only about what we say but how we say it and this includes the method in which we choose to communicate.

Love Game (I apologize for the Lady Gaga-inspired title)

Whether casual or serious, current or former, people play games in their relationships. It makes dating complicated, disheartening and exhausting. We do things to make the boy or girl on whom we have our eye jealous. We say things we don’t mean, exaggerate and flat-out lie. We employ behavior we frown upon in others. All to get something out of a relationship. It has gotten to the point that half the time I can’t figure out if a guy is being sincere or just playing the game, so I just assume it is all part of the game. Wouldn’t we all just be better off if we cut through the bull and were just honest with one another?

If we all employed unabashed honesty in our relationships, there would be fewer broken hearts and more happy couples. Think about it, no matter what we are looking for in a relationship chances are there is someone out there who is willing to give us what we want. When people are honest with us about what they can offer in a relationship, it gives us the power to decide if it is enough. No one has false hopes and no one wastes their time. If we have to play games to get what we want, is it what we get real? Is it even worth it?

Even if all you want is a piece of tail for the night, being upfront about this fact would be better for both parties. I guarantee there is another person out there who is looking for exactly that. It seems that the only place you can get this kind of honesty is through the personals on Craigslist. I am shocked and appalled by the brazenness of some of the posts, but at least these people are being real about what they want.

I have never been good at the game. If I like someone, I let them know. If I’m unhappy about something that is going on in my relationship, I don’t devise strategic plans to make my point, I simply tell my significant other. When a relationship ends, I don’t pretend I’m immediately over it or try to make my ex jealous to get him back. What would be the point? Now, obviously I don’t know how well this has served me given the fact that all of my relationships have ended. However, I truly believe that, someday, my lack of game will land me in a happy, healthy and trusting relationship. Anything else just isn’t worth it.