Dyeing to Make One Work

Jeff has been way better about not telling me what girls are saying to him. I now discovered another…red flag, maybe? I’m not sure if it’s a red flag; it may be more of a pink one. One of Jeff’s “hobbies” is to research how to pick up women. Yeah. He was doing this through the online forum, and he would tell me how it worked well and what the womens’ responses were. He was now wanting to shift it from online to real life. I understand that people pop into your inbox with online dating, but I was a little uncomfortable that he would be actively seeking out other girls. He assured me that he didn’t want to actually talk to them, he just liked the challenge of picking up a girl at a bar. Great. I discovered his stash of books and videos that detail what to say and what to do. I read through some of the materials and realized that he had pulled one of the moves on me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about him applying these games to me—I thought I meant more than a bar pick-up. Pink flag? Red flag? It’s starting to look a little tie-dye.

I’m trying to find the humor in Jeff’s love of…well, his love of himself basically. Picking up women is all an ego boost to him and I told him that. He denied it at first but then realized that since he wasn’t actually interested in the women then it was all about him. Regardless of this, I still really like him and it feels effortless when we’re together. I’m also not completely sold on him so with New Years Eve coming up, I’m choosing to go out with one of my guy friends instead of with Jeff. Guy friend will always be in life; the pick-up artist may not be. Jeff didn’t say he was upset about this, all he said was “okay.” There’s a lot to Jeff that makes me wonder how I let it get this far. I’m surprised he made it through my match.com filter, but he did, and I’m not ready to walk away. I like what we have, and I want to see what will happen.

Man, I Cured My Losing Streak!

I didn’t want to see Mike anymore because even though he was nice, I was hoping for more of a connection with someone. I hesitated to go out with Jeff, the next one, because the emails were just okay. He didn’t seem super pumped to meet so I took it all in stride. I didn’t really have any hopes for anything to come of it; I figured at the least I’d be able to get a good buzz when we met for drinks. Jeff was pretty. He was still masculine, but it was clear he cared A LOT about his looks. I almost mistook him for someone from Jersey. Even though I had been to this bar before, construction was happening and roads were blocked so I ended up being late. I felt really bad to keep him waiting, but it actually lightened the mood I think. Right as I stepped out of my car he was already making fun and joking. The night only got better from there. Our attitudes and personalities were very similar—we are both very blunt and we like to joke around. The best part of the evening came when Jeff was talking about how he likes girls who take care of themselves—fit, dress nicely, and have manicured nails. What? That’s what you care about? Nails? I hid my boy nails under the bar, but he could see I was laughing about something. I showed him my nails, and he seemed a bit disappointed, but I guess I scored enough points with my other qualities. We left that night agreeing that we would see each other the next day.

We’ve seen each other a few times now and there is more of a connection with Jeff than I have had with someone in a looooong time. While we do have fun together and things are moving nicely, there’s one thing that I’m not sure how to take…he tells me about the girls that still “talk” to him on match. I do actually find it entertaining, learning what the girls say to him and what a guy’s reaction to it is, and I also understand that match is open for dating. It’s an issue you’ve gotta be prepared for. If Jeff and I aren’t really exclusive, then there’s not much I can say. The only thing I told him is that now, after a couple weeks, I don’t want to hear about the other girls anymore. He understood so that should eliminate the problem.

SRY, 2 L8T

This whole online dating process is starting to become frustrating, but I found myself gearing up for yet another date, or “get together” as I like to call them. A date sounds too promising. After school one day, I met up with Mike for a couple drinks. He played baseball at a crosstown rival high school so we were able to find people we both knew. Like many of the others, the conversation was easy, and he was a really nice guy. He also seemed more mature than some of the guys I had been out with before. Bonus! After a couple hours and a couple drinks, we ended our night with a hug and plans to make plans for another get together.

A few nights later, I went to his apartment with the intention of us figuring out what to do/where to go. We ended up telling stories and talking that we never made it out. I think I also felt bad to actually go out because I could tell I wasn’t romantically interested in him. There was nothing wrong with him, I just didn’t like him like that, and I didn’t want to go through all the hoopla of a “date” when I knew it wasn’t really going anywhere. We had conflicting schedules coming up that it made things difficult to go out again. I viewed this as a lucky break for me since I didn’t really know how to tell someone I wasn’t interested when it had only been a couple dates. Mike pursued me a little bit, and unfortunately like his predecessors, he did this only through texting. Sometimes I wonder if I lose interest because they don’t show enough. Pick up the phone and call.

What do ya know? Mike did call a few days after he had texted me about getting together, but I had family in town so I couldn’t commit to anything. I was glad he made the step to call, but by that point I had moved on. There’s an overwhelming amount of options with online dating, and while it has its moments when I want to hide my profile, I am so thankful for all of these opportunities to meet different guys and to really find out/understand what I want, what I need, what I don’t want, and most importantly, to reaffirm my belief that when I meet the right person, I’ll just know. Sadly for Mike, I knew it wasn’t him. And now, my biggest question: am I really the only person in this world who believes that a phone call is more personal than a text? There's gotta be someone who feels the same and hopefully my match search will yield him in the results.

Getting Off To A Bad Start--And Finish

Ohhhh my goodness. I thought Scott was bad the other weekend, but that’s because I hadn’t met David yet. I made a bad choice and decided to simply hang out and watch football at his apartment. I know, I was almost asking for it, and I’m ever so thankful nothing happened to me. But after seeing him, I realized I could kick his a** if I needed to, which, incidentally, is what started off the “date” on such a bad note. In his pictures he came across as an all-American boy—athletic, lighter coloring, good natured, blah blah blah—everything I could hope for, right? He met me outside and after saying “it’s nice to meet you,” I spit out, “Oh, you’re skinny.” Oops! Such a major no-no, but I didn’t understand that until hours later. My comment obviously peeved him because guys don’t like being called skinny apparently, and I tried to explain my slip by saying he looked like he had lost weight from his pictures. He informed me that I was actually correct and he had lost weight recently. HA! I knew I was right. Regardless, I did apologize for my comment and tried to start fresh. David cozied himself on his recliner across the room from where I was sitting. I loved the distance between us; it was really conducive to creating a warm atmosphere. He worked for the government and did something related to studying the mind or why people are the way they are. I guess, since it was a Sunday and all, he thought he was still at work. For the next two hours, he chipped away at everything about me. Religion was a biggie for him. My profile explicitly states that I’m not religious, and the only person I try to fake this with is my grandmother. David went on and on about God—I’m not sure exactly what he said because I was watching the football game that was on TV. Wow, thank goodness for football, this is what, the third date that it’s provided me with entertainment?

We made it past religion and David had some other random jerk things to say, but he really got me fired up when he said that I use my looks to get what I want. Now, I try to take care of my appearance, but I am definitely not one to wear skimpy clothes, bat my eyelashes, or do whatever else with my looks to get what I want. Because his rantings weren’t offensive enough, he decided to make the proclamation that no guy will ever like me for me—he will be only interested in me because of my looks. I laughed. And after a few minutes of thinking of ways to impose physical harm on him, I decided to leave instead. I could’ve left way earlier, but I wanted David to feel like a dope because he cried about one comment I made, and I was able to withstand his judgments for two hours. Before I left, we stepped outside on his balcony. I was taking in the view when he pulled me in and kissed me. Uhhhhh, huh? I’m pretty sure he hated me about five minutes prior and now he’s kissing me? He took out the hammer and really nailed his coffin by making some, um, suggestive remarks, I guess we could call them. I laughed. Again. And walked out. Hopefully Scott and David will be the only jerks I have to meet.

SportsCenter of Attention

Last weekend was host to two dates. Jack came up first. He’s a former college football player who was just as beefy in person as he was in his pictures. We met at a restaurant for some drinks, and he was very friendly and upbeat. Conversation took off right away. He’s only a year out of college, but he has a smarty pants job doing something in economics and helping poor countries. When I started drinking my vodka sprite I was fully into our conversation. By the time I finished it, I had checked out and was focusing on the TV mounted above his head. He was talking about football and I was watching the highlights on Sports Center. After quite a few of these match dates, I felt pretty secure that “getting together for a drink” had more of a time limit invisibly attached to it than, say, going out to dinner. I expected to be with him for an hour and a half, maybe two hours. Three hours later—yes, the amount of time it would take me to get to southern Jersey, I was still there checking my phone, silently begging to go home. He was a super cute, nice, healthy, smart guy, but it just wasn’t clicking for me. I ordered only one drink and had finished it within the hour. When I didn’t order another, I thought that was the international symbol for “set me free, I’m bored.” Finally, the night came to a close, and on my way home I kept asking myself if I was being too picky. Jack really had so many great qualities (minus that he lived in D.C., ugh), and I still couldn’t make it work.

Okay. So I may have been bored with Jack, but my next date was truly treacherous. It was horrible before it even started. Scott had a decent profile, although there was nothing that stood out. Oh, well, he does have two kids so that stood out a little. We spoke on the phone to set plans, and when I asked him to meet at a restaurant that was semi-halfway between us, but leaning a little more towards me, he was not so gentlemanly about it. He told me I should go to him. Uhhh, yeah right, you’re the boy, you can travel. A few days later, I was on my way to meet Scott when he called me. He was a bit agitated that he couldn’t find the restaurant. He didn’t yell at me, but he definitely raised his voice and blamed me for not giving him exact directions. “Oh, well you didn’t ask for directions. I told you the main road it was off of and figured you’d mapquest the specifics,” was my response. Ugh, I wanted to turn my car around, but I had made it to the restaurant by then. While I sat in my car, I dictated the directions to him, and a couple minutes later, I saw him pull in. He parked pretty far from where I was, and I noticed he was on the phone. Wow, I guess he had hung up with me and right away picked up with someone else. He got out of his car so I started to get out of mine. He was still talking on the phone as we walked toward the front. My annoyance for his rude phone etiquette paused briefly because I was trying to make sense of his outfit. I thought for a moment that maybe I was out on a date with 50 Cent. Curse words are pretty much non-existent from my vocabulary, and this guy had the F word splattered across the sleeve of his shirt. Yikes, he may not be a good match for me. He continued to talk on the phone while I stood next to him for another minute. We finally went inside and sat at the bar. It was 4:00 on a Sunday afternoon and I ordered the first of my three vodka sprites that I would soak up that day. He was dreadful. When I found out that his mother was 47 years old and he had a 31 year old brother along with three other siblings, I was…holding my tongue. The father/fathers of Scott and his siblings were M.I.A. , and it took everything in me not to scream, “Why would she keep having children?!” Thank goodness for football, Sports Center, and vodka; those three combined kept me from abandoning him right there. Maybe I should have, but I didn’t. I think he thought it was going well, and he would’ve stayed longer but I lied and said I had to leave.

During this past week, Scott has tried to contact me and I have ignored him. He’s not even worth the time to tell him he’s not worth my time.

Just the Two—or Nine—of Us

Thinking the guys may be different if I made a drop in elevation, I started talking with Carl because he was only 5’10”. Well, not only because of his height…he had lots of tattoos as well! Along with tattoos, and sub-6 foot height, Carl seemed to have a good nature to him. We talked on the phone a couple times, and he was calm, kind of like Mack. Because of scheduling issues, last night seemed like our best option to meet. I wouldn’t be just meeting him, though; I’d be meeting seven of his friends. I went to his house before we left, and they were not the warmest folk toward me. Carl was still getting ready and thankfully one of the seven decided to have a conversation with me. I wandered around a little bit and came across some awards Carl had received. They confirmed his claim in his profile that he volunteered with Big Brothers. Those awards sat next to stacks of books that he was studying from to move his career along. Career motivated but also has time to volunteer? He even has the desire to volunteer? That’s pretty rare to find. At this point, I had seen his roommates and friends more than Carl so I was a little worried that this wasn’t the best idea. The princess finally emerged from his room, ready to go out. We piled into cabs and headed for Arlington. Carl was really polite, and he did a good job of balancing a “boys’ night” and a match date all at the same time. We sat closely together around a couple tables, and we soon started playing a drinking game. His friends eased up and were way friendlier to me at the bar—hm, was that because they actually liked me or just because they had alcohol and didn’t care at that point? Either way, it was fun, but after a couple hours, Carl asked if I wanted to leave. I told him sure, hoping he meant that he would be leaving with me and not that he was kicking me out.

Thirty minutes later, we were back at his house—alone. It’s strange to say that we had been together for about four hours yet had never been totally alone. We talked for a little bit and it was just okay. I think we had both fallen into a sleepy mood because of the hectic day we each had and the alcohol was making us drowsy. I couldn’t tell if he liked me or not, and he probably felt the same since I didn’t really know if I liked him either. Before I left, I got a hug and a, “I’ll talk to you later,” from Carl. That’s code for “I’ll never speak to you again.” I’m learning things as I go, and I have learned to not expect anything when a guy tells me that. If a guy is interested in me, he will make the plan in the moment for the next date. This whole online dating thing is starting to get frustrating. I can’t believe out of all these guys, that Eric was the only one to make it beyond one or two dates. Ew, Eric is the best evidence I’ve got that online dating is where I’ll meet someone? Every time I feel like I could step away from match, I log on to simply peruse the options and end up signing my life away again. Why should this time be any different? If Carl contacts me then I’ll deal with it then, but for now, I need to see what some of my other choices are.

Impersonall A Waste of Time

After my dates with Will and Mack, I have learned that extra height does not mean extra personality. It actually seems to have had an inverse effect. I got to Champps and knew that Will hadn’t arrived yet, so I sat on the entry level of the building on a bench, next to the spiral stairs that led to the actual restaurant. Through the glass doors and windows, I watched as cars drove through the parking lot, and with each car I wondered if that was him. A couple minutes later, I looked up from my phone to see him walking into the view through the windows. Wow. He’s tall. And not as cute. Hm, that was a bummer. His hair was a little longer and scruffier than I like, and he was dressed in a t-shirt and a zip sweatshirt, but maybe his personality will really shine through tonight. We hugged, me basically throwing my arms around his waist and leaning into his stomach like a little girl would hug her daddy after he’s been away for a week on business. We walked up the stairs to the restaurant and decided to sit at the bar. I could feel the eyes of the other patrons watching us as we walked. Well, not so much watching me but watching the tower of Will. I wanted to shout out to all of them, “I know, isn’t he huge?!” We both ordered a drink, and he ordered dinner. We started talking and had some pretty unmemorable conversation. It was lacking in—everything. He seemed disinterested after the first few minutes even thought I can’t understand why since I’m UH-Mazing. We kept the conversation moving throughout the night, but it was just bleh. He had no personality, and he acted like he didn’t care he was on a “date.” I don’t understand why these guys do this. You will not hurt my feelings if you tell me ahead of time that you’re not interested in a date. You won’t hurt my feelings if you tell me after that you’re not interested in the date. But ya will piss me off. Without any type of personal connection happening, it was pretty clear that I had dragged myself out on a school night for nothing, and my hopes of marrying a Jolly Green weren’t going to happen. Or were they? I still had my date with Mack to go on!

The next night, like a broken record, I drove to the same restaurant and sat on the same bench while I waited for a different guy (but still a Jolly Green!) Mack called me after I had been sitting there for a few minutes to let me know that he was very close. Just like before when I had talked to him, he sounded very soothing and calm. As I was talking to him, he informed me that he was in the black Cadillac CTS driving by the building. He sounded way friendlier than Will and more enthusiastic about our outing. A couple minutes after our phone chat, Mack walked through the doors. Wow. He’s tall. I knew it was coming, but still—seeing someone whose lower body is the length of your entire body is surprising every time. Another awkward hug ensued, and as I scampered up the stairs, Mack took about two strides and had made it all the way to the top. We sat down and I could smell vanilla—like that vanilla scent from Bath & Body Works. Here’s the funny thing about vanilla scent: I hate it. I hate it badly, and I quickly realized that Mack had doused himself in it. Vanilla should be reserved only for ice cream or frosting, and maybe even to describe the color of a white crayon, but no man should pick up a bottle of vanilla and try to pass it off as their cologne. The conversation throughout dinner was fairly pleasant. I learned about how his family came to America in search of a better life, and he came off as very mature. He talked so softly and slowly, but not in a grandpa boring way, just in a thoughtful way that showed his tranquil personality. That was kind of opposite of my loud Italian-Arab voice and hands that constantly moving in sync with my mouth. He asked me a lot of questions to learn more about me, but it sorta felt superficial. It’s hard to explain. I was engaged in conversation and Mack was a nice guy, but I had mentally checked out early on. Like Will, the connection was missing and so was a personality. I needed more life in someone! Surprisingly, before we left, Mack asked if I would join him for an upcoming basketball game. It’s usually pretty awkward to reject someone in person, so I said that it sounded fun. Yeah, I know, I totally lied. Well not totally—I do really like going to sporting events so it wouldn’t be all that bad. We were supposed to go yesterday, but I got a message from him earlier in the day that he was really sick and wouldn’t be able to go. Relieved, I told him not to worry. He said he’d check out another game we could go to and he’d let me know. Fingers crossed that he doesn’t make it happen! I had already wasted two days with the Redwoods, I needed to work on finding someone who would actually be a good match.

Heeled

A few days after Eric and I went caput, I received a text from him. He apologized for…well, for basically being an a-hole. He specifically cited the examples of pushing me to do too much with him when I wasn’t ready and for acting a fool over the field trip thing. He said he really didn’t mind going, and he was just being a jerk by ditching me like that. It was nice to see that he had done some growing up, but he included that he wasn’t looking for me to want him back; he had been doing some thinking and wanted me to know what he realized. So, Eric, A for effort for you at the end there!

I wasn’t sad at all that Eric and I didn’t work out, and I actually felt pretty good. I didn’t waste much time getting back into searching mode, and I soon landed on—umm, how about Will as the replacer name? I landed on Will. He was a 6’6” Alabama native, who actually hasn’t been that exciting to talk to through email or on the phone. His emails seem fairly impersonal and almost like he’s annoyed he has to communicate with me. I kind of feel like it’s pointless to continue talking to him, but there’s actually not that many options right now on the match pages. At least he meets my height requirement? Maybe he’ll be different in person; sometimes people don’t come across correctly, you know, because of that whole screen of pictures and written word thing.

Along with Will, I met another giant. I couldn’t believe it; two guys who were 6’6”! Mack, yeah let’s take a break from those boring names, was well written and was able to communicate his interest a lot better than Will. They both live in Ashburn so I’ve got plans to meet them halfway—at the same restaurant—but don’t worry, on different nights. That might actually be pretty funny, to “accidentally” schedule two dates. Even though Mack seems like a good guy, I feel like I’m going out with them to just go out with them; I don’t foresee any potential. But, on the other hand, if I knew what I was doing before, then maybe I’d have someone by now. It’s just a couple drinks so it’s not a huge time commitment or anything. The dates are scheduled for this week…I guess I can wear a pair of heels.

I Object!

So, the bad news is I’m not dating anyone anymore. The good news is that I’m not dating Eric anymore. Here’s how it all went down…

Life went on as normal after our ridiculous child-raising conversation. I extended an offer to Eric to come on a Family Field Trip. One of the teachers has been having Saturday “field trips” for her students and their parents. She invited me to come, and I decided to join them on a mini walking tour of the stereotypical D.C. monuments. I asked Eric if he was interested in coming because it was something different and everyone else would have a family member with them, and I would have no one with me. I told him there was no pressure to come and that I wouldn’t be offended if he said no. Well, he said he would come, and he didn’t seem weirded out or anything by the idea of being around students and their families. The day before the field trip, Eric made some pushy comments, again about him wanting more from me than what I was willing to give, and he said, “If you’re going to make me do boyfriend stuff like the field trip, then I should get other benefits of being a boyfriend.” Ohhhh my Lord. Really? This guy clearly didn’t realize that I practice law in my downtime so I went ahead and prosecuted him for being a jackass. And I won. I hadn’t been feeling particularly confident in him as potential boyfriend material; the more I reflected on it, the more I realized I was actually embarassed by him. He didn’t have much of a personality, he wasn’t that friendly, and he had this sort of “I don’t care” attitude that I don’t think he even knew he displayed. Since I was about to jump the fence to freedom away from him, I quickly asserted my case and told him that he didn’t have to come on the field trip, I didn’t mean anything by it, I thought it would be something different for us to do, and that he’s not my boyfriend so he can go do whatever he wants and I won’t care. I’m pretty sure at this point I even told him to go date someone else. I repeated that I would not do anything physical with him and if that’s what he wanted then he needed to find someone who would do that because it wouldn’t be me. I guess it must be my prosecutory charm because he didn’t leave. He simply said, “All right, well you go into D.C. and call me when you’re back.” We went on for a couple more days, but during that time I kept asking myself why I was in this if I didn’t want it? He wouldn’t be a huge loss, or any loss at all actually, so what was I hanging on for? Since I was used to being single, I decided to go back to what was comfortable.

I showed up to his house a couple days later so we could “go out to dinner.” Only I was there to end things with him. I walked in, sat down for a few minutes while he played video games (I try not to judge but the video game thing was really annoying me especially because he wouldn’t even look at me to say hi), and then when he stopped playing I blurted out, “I can’t go to dinner.” He asked, “Oh, did something come up?” I wasn’t sure how to say it so I just went with whatever came out of my mouth, and that was, “No, I don’t think we should see each other anymore. It doesn’t feel right to me.” He seemed pretty shocked, although I’m not sure how since things weren't exactly blissful between us. He asked if I was sure I wanted to do that because he could “easily go out and find someone else” so he would be okay. Um, yeah, I’m positive I don’t want to be with you, especially with an attitude like he had, thinking he was the hottest guy out there. As I said in a previous post, I wish so badly I could put up a picture of him. He was tall and had a nice car—those were his two best physical qualities. I told him I was sure, and that I didn’t want to waste anyone’s time so with that I walked out the door and happily skipped my way to my car—well I didn’t really skip because that might look silly, but I did have a huge smile on my face since I was finally done with this one! As I move on with my search, I have learned that I need to trust my instincts. My filtration system is getting better and better so I shouldn’t have anymore Erics to deal with.

Past, Present, and Future Tense Moments

Things have started to settle with Eric, but I’m still unsure how I feel about him. I enjoy talking with him and he has ceased from harassing me for “intimacy,” which always makes things a little better. Recently, though, we got into a conversation about some future topics. He started it, I swear! I know better than to bring up some heavy conversation after just a few weeks of dating. Eric and I are both at the point that we don’t want to date just to date, so, matters of the future are actually fairly important. Kids, working, and money were all discussed and the result was no good. Eric and I have completely different views, and while I was trying to compromise in some way, he was adament that he would never change his mind. We were talking over the phone and I was envisioning him on the other line, stomping his foot like a 5 year old who was told he had to make his bed and he was screaming, “I don’t wanna!” Here’s a rundown of the convo (starting after Eric brought it up):
Me: I’d like to take off from working once I have kids.
Eric: No, you have to keep working. 
Me: You make $125,000 a year. We could afford to live on your salary, but you'd still make me work?
Eric: Yes. You’re given 3 months maternity leave, and 3 months is all you’ll take.
Me: Childcare is really expensive, though. Plus, I’ve wanted to be a mom my whole life. Again, we could afford to live on your salary.
Eric: You may feel like you don’t make a lot of money, but it could really help out. We can both drive really nice cars, we can have a really nice house, and we can do whatever we want.
Me: How about I at least take the first year off? I don’t need to drive a nice car; I’m fine with my Honda. 
Eric: No. I told you, 3 months.
 …moving on to the college years…
Eric: I’m not paying for my kids to go to college, either. 
Me: Really? Even though you can afford it, you’d still put your kids through a struggle when it’s not necessary?
Eric: Yup. My parents didn’t help me out, and I think parents spoil their kids by paying for their college. The kids just don’t appreciate it.
Me: My dad paid for my college. Do you think I took it for granted?
Eric: No, but you’re different. (And really, Eric was bitter because he was a jerk off during high school and his first year of college so his parents said they wouldn’t pay his way
anymore. Well played, parents).
Me: Right, because not everyone takes it for granted. Whatever, we shouldn’t even talk about this right now. 
Eric: Yeah, I guess you’re right.
Wow, finally, I got him to concede to one statement I made! The talk was a bit premature, but it helped me see Eric for who he was deep down inside: Resentful, selfish, money-centered, and contains childlike compromise abilities. Even though I cared about his drastically different viewpoints, I was more concerned about what a jerk he was coming to be. His personality and character were not what I wanted to be around. I was ready to run out, but I told myself to not think about it, and that maybe I was getting stuck in the context of our disagreement since I tend to be an over-thinker. We managed to pretend like our talk never happened and we are continuing to spend time together. Even though I’m still dating him, I can’t help but wonder if there’s someone out there who’s a better match for me.

Tall, Dark, and Hands-On

Uh oh. My inability to be affectionate has crept up on me again. My explanation for why I’m not touchy feely with a guy is because one of them hasn’t stuck around long enough for me to be comfortable with doing that. And I haven’t liked someone enough to really show that emotion. At this point, it’s been about three weeks since Eric and I met, a little bit longer since we actually started talking. We’ve kissed and that’s about it. That’s all that should be it according to my way of thinking. Eric, however, feels the opposite. I walked into his room the other day, expecting us to be leaving for dinner. There he was, with his telemarketer headset on, concentrating on his video game as if he were performing surgery. He didn’t even turn to look at me; all I got was a grunt. Ew, is this really who I’m spending my time with right now? I laid on his bed to wait for him. And wait. Andddd wait. Containing my desire to unplug the video game (it had only been three weeks, I figured I’d bust out that move after it’s been at least a month), I calmly asked him if he still wanted to go to dinner.

“I’m not that hungry anymore,” he told me, again without looking at me. Not hungry? I guess he was becoming a manorexic so he could achieve hotness. “Okaaay,” I responded, clearly peeved and confused. While I was trying to think of my next question to try and clarify, he said, “I feel like you’re really cold.” And he didn’t mean like a penguin, he meant like…well, I wasn’t sure what he meant, so I asked him. “What do you mean?” He went on to explain that I don’t touch him. Well yeah, you’re not lean and hot so why would I touch you? Ha, juuuust kidding, I’m not that shallow. “What do you mean I don’t touch you?” I asked, still unsure of where this was heading. Really, this was heading for the bottom of the ocean because the ship that Eric and I were on was sinking. Fast. He told me I’m not affectionate. I don’t touch his hand. I don’t caress his arm. I don’t kiss him for no reason. I don’t sleep with him. Yeah, did you just hear the record scratch?! That’s right, friends, I don’t sleep with him in the first three weeks, and therefore I’m cold and unaffectionate. “Too bad,” I told him. “It’s too soon for me, and if that’s an issue then I’ll leave.” He apologized by saying that he could get any girl he wanted and they would all sleep with him. “Good! Go get one of them, I’m not stopping you!” He reworded his position and said that he just wanted to feel like I was actually interested in him. Mmmhmmm, that's all he cares about. He said he’d be willing to wait, (oh, what a prince!) and I said I would make more of an effort to be “affectionate.” With no other guys coming up on my match radar, I guess I’ll try and make something work with him. That sounds like a good idea, right??

Snack Attack

Eric and I are trucking along pretty nicely. We talk everyday, but it’s not long drawn out conversations because we’re also actually spending time together. I’ve been going over there, a couple times right after school, which is good because I get to see him but then I can also claim that it’s a “school night” so I have to leave. I need to keep my distance; it’s the way I operate and what I’m comfortable with. One of our big outings was this weekend when we went to the Silver Diner for a late night snack. I got chicken noodle soup and he got a salad. Really? A salad? I’m sorry, I thought you were a guy. I can honestly say, out of all the guys I’ve ever eaten with—college friends, high school friends, cousins, uncles, dates—not ONE of them has ever ordered a salad unless it just came with the meal; a meal like steak and potatoes. What real men eat. So as if him ordering a salad wasn’t throwing my mind into a tizzy, he started commenting that my chicken noodle soup wasn’t actually that healthy for me. “It has sooo much sodium, there’s just not much nutritional value for you,” he lectured me. Now, if I wouldn’t run the risk of getting sued, I would post a picture of him right here. And then I’d post a full body picture of myself, and you all can vote on who should be giving out the health advice.

My little cup of soup spawned a monologue of Eric’s hardbody dreams. He declared he was going to get his body back into “lean” shape so he’ll be “hot.” I wanted to laugh. In his face. And point my finger at him. Along with the salad, Eric also claimed another first this evening. He was the first guy I’ve heard use the word “hot” to describe how he wants to look. I spooned every last bit of my zero nutrional value chicken noodle soup in order to keep my mouth busy so I wouldn’t call him a dbag. We survived our Silver Diner excursion, and even though my mind is drawn to the negatives, I do have to say that spending time with Eric is pretty effortless. We are both blunt with each other and very open, and he does have a caring nature to him. A couple times after school, the weather has been really nice so we’ve gone for walks around his neighborhood. It was nice for a change; instead of talking over alcohol at a crowded bar, we were enjoying the fall weather, having good conversation, and getting a tad bit of exercise. You know, so Eric can get his “lean” and “hot” body.

Batter Shape Up

My one month subscription ended at the perfect time because get this: I actually met someone, and I’ve seen him more than once. It’s hard to believe, and I’m a bit in shock over it, too. Since the first letter of names are now starting to repeat, I’ll have to assign these guys fake names. Let’s go with Eric. He’s super tall (yay!) and has dark hair (double yay!). He’s originally from this area; went to snobby Langley HS, but he seems pretty down to earth. Maybe that’s because his parents didn’t give him a total free ride, and he puts in hard work with his government job. We met up at a bar in Fairfax, and the night went well. We had a couple debates which was fun, and he didn’t hold back on saying what he really thought. A few days later, we thought it made sense for him to meet my parents. Really, though, he was picking me up to go to a Nationals’ game so he met them for a nanosecond. Thank goodness it was quick, too, because I wanted to lay the smackdown and tell him to shape up. He was so unenergized when he met them; he barely made eye contact and seemed like he didn’t care. Not the best first impression ever but I didn’t say anything even though it’s still in the back of my mind. All my dad could come away with saying to Eric was, “wow, you’re tall.” Nice one, dad. Way to pick up on the obvious.

The traffic gods smiled on us and we made it to the ballpark without any delays. Even luckier, we found some random street parking nearby and although I feared a)being mugged in the neighborhood and b) that his fairly expensive car would be stolen, I was pretty pumped to be at another baseball game. We nearly scalped some tickets from a couple wandering around, but decided to just buy them the old fashioned way. My seats with J were definitely way better, but who’s comparing? The game was fun and Eric is very easy company. On the way home, he found enjoyment in driving extremely fast. He ignored my screams (maybe shrieks) to slow down, and instead told me to notice how the sides of the back part of the seats really hold me in place. Yeah, when you kill me with your speeding, I’m sure I’m really gonna be impressed with your seats. I think he tired of hearing me yell at him, so he stopped drag racing the car next to us and drove a bit more responsibly the rest of the way home. I’ll be hanging out with him this week and hopefully he doesn’t try to impress me with his Fast and the Furious skills again.

Cat Got Your Manliness

As I sit behind my laptop, scrolling through hundreds of profiles, I’ve determined that I’m a bit of a loony when it comes to which guys I will give a chance. It’s a shame, but there are three things that are near non-negotiables for me—a guy who drives a Prius, a guy who has a cat, or a guy who has the grammar skills of a first grader. The Prius…okay, so you’re saving the world and your carbon footprint will be less than mine, but, you are also most likely a suck driver. Are you driving slowly so that we can all gawk in amazement at how wonderful you are for buying an environmentally friendly car? Well, your slowness is only giving me more time to play some sweet music for you on my horn. Go ahead, be environmentally friendly, but for me part of choosing a car is based on how the thing looks flying down the road, and really, the Prius just doesn’t do it. I’ll take a guy who drives a “gas guzzling road beast” as my BFF Mary once referred to them, over the awfully designed home for annoying drivers. Clearly, my frustration with Prius drivers in general hinders any chance of happiness I could potentially find with one.

Now, the cat thing. YOU ARE A MAN. Get a dog. A big dog. And name it Magruder or something masculine. I’ve been reading these profiles and laughing at the irony of guys who claim to be a “guys guy” but then in the pet section of their profile, I discover that they are daddy to a poodle or some of those other hamster dogs. Only worse than a hamster dog, is a cat. Generally speaking, I do think cats are pointless. They remind me of tree hopper animals, the way they can jump from place to place. It’s weird. They also just seem like a femmy animal the way they carry themselves like they're better than people. And since I don’t want to date a femmy guy, the cat is a big no-no for me. I’m pretty sure nothing would be worse than a Prius driver who owns a cat.

Actually, I guess the situation would be worse if that same guy didn’t know how to write correctly. My family knows that I’m a pretty decent grammar snob (thank you, Ms. Savage, freshman English), and I’ll cut you some slack if you mix up a “there” and “their” one time. But if you start throwing around the apostrophe, WRITE IN ALL CAPS, have more than three spelling mistakes, have a three paragraph run-on sentence, or generally look like something one of my 3rd grade students would write, then I’m not so sure we should speak. My grammar policing isn’t just limited to profiles. Oh no, my friends. I take it all the way to their emails, too. If I have to reread an email to make it feel like a coherent piece of writing, then again, not gonna work. Maybe some of the grammar or spelling oopsies are happening because someone is rushing, and so I ask, why is he rushing? Too many girls to write to? A video game to get back to playing? Whatever the reason, these guys (and maybe the girls, too) need to slow down, reread, and gosh darnit, type your stuff in Word first and use the spell check! With online dating, what we read is the first impression, and too many of these guys make me want to edit their writing and email it to them.

The more I read, the more annoyed I become with certain things so I’m sure, soon enough, my list of three will grow to more.

Two's Company

With summertime winding down, A and I took advantage of the weather and went out to the Georgetown Waterfront. I had been there a few times before, but I was a teenager. And I was also with my parents. The Waterfront is a bit different when you’re on a match date, drinking alcohol, and grasping at things to talk about. I was trying my darndest to get A to open up; I mean, if you’re gonna spend time with me, you’re gonna have to talk to me at some point. Okay, technically, he could really just look at me the whole time, but I can be annoying and talk until he breaks! So, that’s what I did. And we actually talked. Like had a real conversation, going back and forth. He declared he was content with his life how it was and didn’t have any plans to change it. Of course in my mind I heard that he doesn’t want to get married, having kids isn’t an inkling in his mind, and he basically just wants me for…company? What does he want me for anyway? Hmm. I guess A could read me pretty well. He made a comment that I needed a Sugar Daddy. Knowing that he’s…okay, whatever, he’s rich…knowing that, made it slightly awkward for me to have to agree with him. Well, I’m one who embraces awkwardness so I enthusiastically agreed: “Yes! That’s exactly what I need! But I gotta meet one first, I guess.” Oh ya, I did it, I pushed the button. I smiled. He smiled. We both knew what we were getting at. After a few hours we headed back to his car. I brazenly held his hand on the walk, partially because I felt like I was going to tip over in my platforms, but also because I was curious if I would like him at all. I didn’t. He didn’t like me either, I knew. I was decently drunk, it was a gorgeous night, and there were white lights lining the trees (one of my most favorite things in the world!) so who cares if this guy didn’t like me and only wanted to talk to me online and take me out? There’s worse things I guess. I had to realize, though, not to expect anything more from him. I’d be fine with hanging out, but now I have to keep looking.

The looking is getting a bit tedious. And I’m finding that within the first two weeks of subscribing, I pretty much was in contact with everyone I had an interest in—whether it was already meeting them, emailing, winking, exchanging numbers, WHATEVER, and so now my search efforts are kinda pointless. My efforts to be diplomatic and respond to everyone that emailed me have stopped completely. I don’t want to hide my profile just yet—meaning that I won’t be visible to anyone—because I may be drawing back on my search but someone else may be looking for me. Well, there are people looking for me, and one of them might be worth going out with.

Awkward Landing

Surprisingly, the stars aligned and A and I were able to meet up while we were both in D.C. We went to Fly Lounge which is designed to look like you’re in a plane. How clever! Every so often, there would be a giant puff of smoke that would engulf you in an effort to be clouds. The cloud was a tad suffocating, but the idea was neat. A is tall and a pretty big guy, but definitely my type. He was quick to head towards the bar and get us drinks. The place was crowded and loud, and I’m not so sure I’m a fan of that anymore. I met some of his friends that were there, and conversation was at a minimum because it was just too darn loud to hear anyone say anything. We knew we would see each other the next night when we went out to a restaurant and not a plane so I wasn’t worried that we couldn’t talk all that much. After a couple hours, we left to walk to A’s car so he could drop me back at my hotel.

The next night, we went out to Rosa Mexicano in the city. A informed me that he frequented the place a lot, and he appeared to be buddy-buddy with the bartender. She gave me a look that told me he had brought other girls there, too. Whatever, I told myself. It was a good meal, at a nice place, and I was getting the chance to see the city—something I probably would never do if I hadn’t met him. It’s also nice that A is doing quite well in the financial department. It helps that he doesn’t have any kids to take care (none at least that I know of) so what better way to spend his money than on me?! Well, probably me and all those other girls he’s bringing to Rosa Mexicano. After dinner, we went to a couple other bars in the area, and even though we talked during dinner, the rest of the night I felt like he wanted me to be a mute. I was confused why he would bother going out with someone if you’re not going to talk to them, so the next day, I called him. Um, AWKWARD! He clearly sticks to gchat for a reason. The conversation didn’t last long…I guess he’s not looking for anything serious? If he wants to go out again, I’d go. He may not be the most interesting company, and he may have more than just one girl on his gchat list, but who knows where else he’ll take me! I can always go out with him, and another guy who's more serious, right?

Gee, Chat Me Up In Person, Please!

As I’m getting more comfortable with match.com, I’ve been trying some different things. I’ve wondered if there’s a difference in reaction to a wink or a message? I usually prefer a message because, let’s face it, they’re the ones who have to do the most thinking in getting the conversation started. Apparently, I’m horrendous at this because I never get a response to a message. If I wink, though, I will either get a wink back or a message will come. I thought I was pretty good at crafting the first round of emails, but I guess not. I’ll stick with winking. I’ve tried to be diplomatic and give some sort of response to everyone, but it’s getting to be too much. And really, a lot of these guys don’t respond to me either, even if they are the ones who initiate the conversation!

With D out of the picture, and thank goodness because those AIM conversations were getting to be a bit juvenile, I’m open to my other choices. I’ve been talking with A, and by talking I mean gchatting (wait, wasn’t I just happy to be done with D’s AIM conversations? Now I’ve graduated to talking through an email system??). Gchatting is the impersonal alternative to actual conversation, and even though I’m slightly annoyed that he won’t have a brief convo on the phone, I’ll reassess his worth after meeting him. For now, we’re planning on meeting up this weekend when we will both be in D.C. with friends. It’s not a for sure thing, but an if-it-works-out-that-way thing. Hmm, I wonder what A will do in person when he actually has to use his mouth to talk to me and not his computer keyboard??

So Many Strikes But We're Not Bowling!

So D and I have been communicating for some of the time that C and I were talking. He looks good in his pictures and is tall. Yay! A lot of our conversations take place on AIM, which I guess is fine because unless I really like talking to you, then I don’t really enjoy phone conversations. He sent me a link to a website about the graduate program he’s doing. There was a section with a brief biography about him. I appreciated that he did this because it helps me know that he’s not some weirdo who made up all this stuff. Well, he still, technically could be a weirdo but for the most part he seems genuine.

~~A few days later~~

D and I got together for dinner and a couple drinks. During dinner I was having some issues eating my salad elegantly. He made a comment, implying that I was eating like a pig. That was strike one. Actually, that probably counted for strike two, also. Oh, and even though he was tall and had a good body, his face was a little bit rough compared to how he looked in his pictures. I learned that if you care about how a person looks, which yes, I do care, then you’ve really gotta scrutinize their photos. This doesn’t mean you have to reject a person because they’re not a 10, but at least prepare yourself that they may not live up to what you want physically. Anyway, so after dinner we went back to his place, a fancy bachelor pad in a nearby city. I know I know, why was I going to this guy’s house when I barely knew him and when he already had two strikes against him? I’m learning as I go, and next time, if I’m not enjoying someone then I will find a way to scoot. Despite my protests he made me another drink. Count it as his third strike. Red flag? Probably. Again, I’m learning as I go. We watched a movie and concluded the evening with some kissing. The kissing was at least enjoyable, but not enough for me to want to see him again.

Three dates down and no keepers, but I’ve still got plenty of summertime left!

Where is the love? Not in D.C.!

The night had come. I would have to drive into D.C. For a date. With a guy I had only met once. But, I figured he had met my whole family on the first date so this seemed like a fair trade. Despite my mapquest directions taped to my dashboard, I still got lost on my way. Of course. I wasn’t surprised, I almost anticipated it so I had C on speed dial and called him in anticipation of my missteps. Only a few minutes behind schedule, I arrived at his apartment. He met me outside and we walked to a nearby restaurant for dinner. The weather was perfect so we sat outside at one of the sidewalk tables. Our conversation was easy which was to be expected since we had connected so well a few nights ago. Plus, I was realizing that he really was super cute; he had the most adorable smile. He may be short but his personal trainer body made up for it.

After dinner we walked back to his apartment to continue our conversation. I was enjoying getting to know him since I hadn’t had the opportunity much before with other guys. We shared a follow-up makeout sesh that was just as good as the first one. I thought things were going really well. [hint hint: this is where things turn bad]. Out of the blue, C turns to me and tells me that he’ll never fall in love with me. “Umm, okay? I’m not sure what to say,” I responded. He didn’t have much to add to the conversation after that; he knew what he wanted (someone to fall in love with) and he knew what he didn’t want (me). There wasn’t much reason to stick around after his declaration of independence from me so I left. He walked me to my car and I did tell him that if he wanted to be friends, I would be fine with that. He thanked me for being cool about the situation and seemed open to getting together again as friends.

What a pain, I drove all the way into D.C. just to be kicked right back to Virginia. Ugh, back to match.com to keep going with my search. I have been on match for about two weeks now and have only managed two dates. With two weeks left on my subscription, I’ve gotta get to work on my next dates! Even though C didn’t pan out as I would have thought, there is another guy. D. I’m learning to keep some guys on the back burner because you never know when the front flame is gonna go out!

Meet the Parents

Soon after my date with J, I started communicating with C. He was super cute and had a nice body. He better have a nice body, he’s a personal trainer! But he is short. Too short for my liking, but he was persistent in asking me out and we had a fun phone conversation so I figured why not go out with him and at least start to feel more comfortable with these online dates. He lives in D.C. and well, I don’t drive there, so he agreed to come to my house in northern Virginia and we would go to our date from there.

He was aware that I live with mom and dad, and yup, he had to meet them before we went out. No, that’s not awkward at all! He actually handled it really well, and my parents were pretty impressed with him. Our date was pretty perfect. We went to a local town center for some drinks and with the weather cooperating, we located a bench so we could actually hear each other when we talked. From our seat on the bench, we talked about our families, life, exchanged stories, and of course, gossiped about people who walked by. Our senses of humor were the same, and by the end of the night our sense of physical chemistry was also apparent.

Before he left to go home, we shared a nice little makeout session which was followed up with an agreement that we wanted to see each other again. Date #2 is approaching, but this time I have to drive into the city. He better be worth it!

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

I got to J’s apartment, and pretty much right away I could tell he was nervous. He had actually been on match dates before, but I guess for some people the first date is always a tummy twirler. We went to dinner first and this was maybe my third official date of my whole life? I told myself we were just friends going out for a good time so I was my usual silly, cheerful, joking self, but he seemed to let his nerves get to him. He was talkative, but he wasn’t the same as his emails and phone conversations. I figured he needed time to warm up. We went to the game and had AMAZING seats. It was my first time at the stadium, and it was my first game I had been to for the season so I knew I would have fun regardless of his feelings. I was having a blast; cheering for the unknown players, singing and chanting along with the stadium music, and simply just enjoying the sport. J, on the other hand, looked like he was at an opera. Yeah, I get it, I’m sure many of you are making jokes that baseball is so boring it may as well be the opera, BUT he had expressed his interest in the sport, too, and if he had lied about it, well, then, that’s his own darn fault! Throughout the game, I nudged him or would put my hand on his leg to try and get him to liven up and just have a little fun. Maybe the 8th inning I saw a change in him, but at that point I pretty much knew I didn’t really want to see him again.

Over the next couple days, we talked a couple times, and he asked if I was interested in going to a movie. I wasn’t sure how to tell him that I was not interested, so I turned to the method that had brought us together—match email. I thanked him for everything, but said I didn’t feel anything to see him again. He took it all in stride. He was a nice guy, average looks, put out a great effort for the date, but I didn’t get that “ooo I want to see you again” feeling. Maybe if we were to go out a second time he would open up more? Possibly, but here’s the thing I’m learning with match: if one guy doesn’t work out, it’s not a huge loss because there’s always more that you can take a chance with. I’m not ready to self analyze and determine what it says about me that I’m so quick to move on to the next guy. If I were to go with my first thought, though, it would be that I won’t have to think if I want to see the guy again—it will be a definite. J is done, but I’m determined to go out with others to learn about guys, match, and dating.

I Caught One!

Amidst the many emails and winks, there were a handful of guys that I actually started corresponding with. “Corresponding” sounds like I’m writing to prisoners, but I’m not. At least I hope I’m not. It’s kind of amazing how important elementary school grammar and high school English papers really come in handy later in life. I’m a grammar snob. No, I don’t remember or care about the antecedents and dissecting sentences, but I do know the difference (and so do my third graders) between “there” and “their,” “to” and “too,” “your” and “you’re” and that a period needs to be placed after a complete thought. I haven’t yet checked out many girls’ profiles for comparison, but for the guys, stop telling me you don’t know what to write! Get over it! You are on an online dating website, sell yourself, man! And for the sake of your manliness, stop using “lol,” there was nothing in your profile that you should be laughing out loud about. I’m sure as I continue analyzing more profiles, critiques will keep popping up.

There was at least one profile I didn’t have any issues with. We’ll just call him J for now. HIS profile was one that actually did make me “lol,” and that was basically all I needed. I had no clue what I was doing with this first batch. I tried responding to all of the emails, but it got to be too much so I finally started ignoring the ones I wasn’t interested in. Hey, guys have done this to me, too, it’s no biggie. So J was fun. His emails were easy, not boring, and we talked on the phone soon after emailing started. His humor carried over from written to spoken language and I felt at ease meeting him. Knowing I’m a baseball fan, he got us tickets to the Nationals game. J will be my first match date, and I'm not sure I will find love with him, but maybe I will find like.

The Search Is On!

My profile is all set up and now I feel like the new kid in school, trying to learn the ways of online dating. But being the new kid, apparently, has its benefits: you get all the attention! One of the search options allows you to specify new members, and this is helpful to me because I will turn up in that search which has a smaller amount of girls, whereas if a guy is searching for a 5'5" brown haired girl, I'm sure there are many more results. I was pretty surprised to find the high level of interest I received right away. Winks are more common, but 10 emails were already waiting for me a day after I started.

Now, yes, I understand that the girl likes to be pursued and we should "wait" for the guy to come to us. But really, I've got hundreds of guys that fit some part of my criteria just a click away and I'm supposed to sit back and see if any of them bite my line? I'm getting to work to find a guy. I've started playing around with different ways of searching, but the physical aspects I am definitely including are at least 5'10" and darker hair (or a bald head~and not the old man bald, but the hot total head is bare bald). Even though there is an option to specify salary range of my potential mate, I am staying away from that--for now.

The tricky part of where I live, in Northern Virginia, is that my restriction of finding someone 10-15 miles away, means that Maryland is included. But 10-15 miles turns into a 45 minute drive (at least!) because of the constant traffic. And sorry, I just can't deal with that. It also includes Washington, D.C. I do not drive in the city. Ever. I wish there was a way to exclude these two places from the search results but there is not. It's taking more time than I anticipated to weed through all the prospects, but I'm ready to find one, or five, to start talking to.

The Great Debate

Create a profile. Your profile is like the eye contact you give to the guy across the bar. It's the chance to get yourself noticed and to grab his attention so he'll look a little more. The first part was easy--selecting information about your hair color, eye color, height, location, all the boring but might-be-important-to someone stuff. The body type category is a killer. My predetermined choices range from slender to heavyset. I can get rid of the two extremes because I know I'm not either of those. The great debate was whether or not to put myself as athletic and toned, about average, or curvy. I told myself that I work out too hard to be about average. Now, am I curvy or athletic and toned? I think I have some curves, but what did they mean by curvy? My mind goes to girls with bigger hips, a real womanly figure. I’m kind of like that. I think. I’ve also been told that I have the body of a runner and runners aren’t curvy so then maybe I’m athletic and toned. I felt comfortable with the athletic part, but consenting to “toned” made me nervous. What if these guys think I have a six pack on my stomach with tight thighs and all? When it came down to it, I decided to be a swindler. I realized that every guy desired the “athletic and toned” body type, so in order to show up in their searches, I went ahead and selected athletic and toned.

It took some time, but, with my snazzy writing skills, the rest of my profile fell into place. I kept it brief, but gave enough of a glimpse about myself that the guys could get an idea. Plus, who really cares about the words, it's all about the pictures. I browsed through all of my picture folders in search of flattering but realistic photos of myself. I cropped out whoever may have been with me in the photos and uploaded them. I debated whether or not to put up the picture of me in my Gold Digger Halloween costume. It was a hilarious play on words costume, but I am half worried that guys might have the wrong idea from it. Oh well, if they can't appreciate my humor then I don't want them anyway!

kpsmyln6

I know I'm still young. I "have time" to meet someone, fall in love, get married, have kids, etc. I get it. But I don't want to sit around and wait and then realize that I'm 35 years old and living without any of the above having happened. There's nothing wrong with it, it's just not what I want for myself.

A couple girls that I know are playing around with match.com and have been telling me some stories. Mostly, it seems, they are emailing with lots of guys, but can't seem to go through with the actual date. Is it really that bad to go out on a date with a relative stranger? Maybe this would be good for me to at least get used to dating and to be around the male species for once.

I visited match.com's website and started learning about the site and how to search for my brown haired, 6'0" tall, beefy, successful, educated, and nice but not too nice perfect match. There were actually some pretty decent guys on there. I don't know why I felt so panicked over signing up; I examined the subscription choices and fees and what each entailed. I decided that signing up for one month at a cost of $35.00 didn’t seem like a bad investment.

I subscribed to match.com, but before I would spend lengthy time creating my profile, I at least had to create a match name. I settled on my AIM screen name and one that, I think, still fits me pretty well: kpsmyln6.

The D Word: Dating

College is over, student teaching is almost finished, and now that I have the entire summer to find a guy, I don't know where to begin. Knowing that my upcoming career as an elementary school teacher is predominently staffed with women, I wondered how I would go about meeting someone to date. Dating. It was an unfamiliar word to me.

Throughout high school I was never that girl that had boyfriends, or even who had guys interested. Only when I started working at a restaurant when I was 16 did I start gaining some male attention--the problem was that these males were all at least in their 20s, not very educated, and spent their time drinking beers at the bar where I was working.

In college, I didn't want to waste my time on those guys. There were some who seemed decent, and I didn't have any troubles meeting guys in college, but quite frankly, I didn't trust 'em! I dated maybe three guys during my time in college, but none of them lasted more than six weeks. Six weeks would be the magic number. And now, with a summer ahead of me, I still come back to the same question: Where and how will I ever meet someone?

MissMatch

Metaphorically speaking, I feel like my life is a giant puzzle, and while most of the pieces are fitting nicely, I am still looking for my soulmate. I know there is a space for this guy in my life and in my heart, and I'm hoping that online dating will lead me to the missing puzzle piece--my perfect match!