Impress Me With Average

Vince was a letdown, but I couldn’t allow it to hold me back. I got right to work to meet my match. I’ve been trying to meet guys who have a certain quality to their profile—I think it’s a personality that stands out, but not to the point of annoyance. I’ve been drawn to the guys with the stand out profiles—almost like the guy in the party who commands all the attention. The “quieter” or badly written profiles have been read, but I moved on quickly. Some people say how it’s not fair to judge people based on their profile—uhhh, yeah it is, we’re meeting on the internet so your written word IS your first impression. Well that and your pictures. If you’re not good at writing? Thems the breaks and that’s too bad for you. Along with personality, similar interests are pretty important. Maybe I’ll be better matching with someone who’s normal and average. I tend to shy away from the guys who claim their interests are to scale the tallest cliff, travel Asia surviving on pennies and beans and a backpack, or ride their bike across the country. I don’t want an extremist, I just want normal. Another thing that irks me are the pictures. It’s not that the guys are unattractive, but if a guy has more pictures of his dog, a scenic landscape, or cultural landmarks than pictures of himself, then we have a problem. In order to achieve normal, I am opening up my mind. College education? It doesn’t matter to me anymore whether you’ve got one or not. Big and buff? I won’t take skinny, but I will take unbig and unbuff. Only dark haired guys? Blondies are now allowed. I’m easing up on how critical I am of the profile personality. If I’m not LOLing while reading, that’s okay, maybe they’ll make me laugh in person. Fingers crossed that this strategy works.

Older, But Not Wiser

Vince was just as great during date #2 as he was with the first one. Since he lives in Maryland, it was easier for us to meet halfway so we, again, found ourselves at the site of our first date—the mall. We had dinner and drinks, pretty typical so far. I guess you don’t get to the fun stuff ‘til the third date. Conversation was good, and he seemed like a genuine, thoughtful guy. Finally. It’s about darn time one of them decided to show up! Throughout dinner I kept asking myself if I could really end up with someone, not old, because 39 really isn’t old, but I guess that much older than me. I think I’m fairly mature for my age, but who knows when you compare it to nearly 40. I wondered if we’d be able to really connect, to have common interests and viewpoints or perceptions. I liked the idea that he was a take charge type of guy, and I didn’t mind following his lead. Starting a family was in his mind which was a major plus. And with the years tickin’ by for him, I felt pretty good thinking that he wouldn’t be dilly dallying forever. We left that date parting ways in front of The North Face store with a kiss on the cheek and a “We’ll talk this week to figure out when we can see each other. Send me a message so I know you got home,” from Vince.

A couple days later we talked about when we’d get together again. He was possibly going to be going back home to New Jersey the upcoming weekend, but he said he’d let me know in a couple days once he decides so we can make plans around it. I waited. And I waited. Andddd I waited. Did I write those words in another blog yet? I wouldn’t be surprised if I did. Why do these guys insist on making us wait? Be considerate and call, whether it’s good news or bad. Contact was finally made at the end of the weekend, and I learned that he had gone home to New Jersey. Well that’s just great; a little notice would’ve been nice. He may have a few years on me, but apparently he never learned how to treat a lady. I’ve already learned to move on. See ya, Vince!

39 Going On 30

Date #1 went really well with Vince last weekend. We got together for a drink early Saturday evening, and the interest was there right away from both of us. One of the first things he said to me was, “You look exactly like your pictures.” Good thing I hope? I figured it was otherwise he wouldn’t be there if he didn’t like the pictures. He, like some of the other guys, commented that many of the girls are deceptive with their photos. Ladies, STOP doing this! Give the guy a little credit, he’s gonna notice that you’re ___+ pounds heavier in real life so posting only head shots isn’t gonna work out well. Anyway, back to the wedded bliss I found myself in. The date was great. We talked as if we had known each other for longer than just an hour, and questions were asked by both of us, showing there was a mutual interest. Vince was nice, smart, calm and not annoying, didn’t talk too much, had a good job, and the physical attraction was definitely there. After our drink, he asked if I wanted to get a cup of coffee. The place we met was in the mall, so like a couple middle schoolers, we walked around the mall looking for a Starbucks.

We found our caffeine and a comfy place to sit and continued conversation. It came out that I do look toward the future and getting married and kids and all that. Scarf wearer must’ve passed the torch of “Let’s give this girl brotherly advice so she loses interest in us” to Vince because he started getting into this whole thing about how I’ll find the person, and I shouldn’t settle, and all the stuff I’ve heard before, but don’t really want to hear it from my match date. He explained that he likes women who are mostly 30 and under because he wants kids and has a young spirit, but finds that women beyond 30 don’t fit him. Ok. My turn. I had to connect our conversations here. He doesn’t want someone “older” even though he is “older,” and I, as a 26 year old, shouldn’t be worried or rushed to find someone? Uhhh, did he hear himself? “Based off of what you just told me, that makes me feel even worse. You’re 39 and even you won’t take someone over 30, so when I get to be over 30, if I’m still single, I’ll be competing with the 25 year olds. I’ll never win. So, how am I supposed to not feel rushed?” My dad was right, I should’ve been a lawyer. He didn’t have much to say to that, and even though it got a little dicey for those few minutes, we were still fully interested in each other. We parked near each other so we walked out together and left the night with a hug and kiss on the cheek. We also half laid out plans to get together later in the week which will actually be tonight. We’ve kept in touch during the week with phone calls and texts so date #2 has been much anticipated!

A Loss For Boston

I’ve been waiting for awhile for Nick, my Mr. Boston without the accent, (that made me sad, I love those hard accents) to make a move. It never went past texts that read “How was your day?” or “We have to go out again.” The verbage here is very important. “Have to” means he isn’t solidly planning to, and well then, I’m not solidly planning to wait around anymore. He was my dream guy—smart, northerner, ITALIAN, and such a beefcake, too! His downfall was that he didn’t pursue me. And he was a Redsox fan. That would’ve been trouble in deciding how to raise our kids, but I could deal with that later. We needed a second date and I guess he was still working on that set.

I’ll wait for some time if I truly feel the guy is worth it and that there is something between us. While Nick was texting me, I was emailing others on match. Match is sneaky like that. They’ll bait you with emails saying “Someone winked at you, find out who!” I love a good mystery, and even more, I love finding out the ending! So there I was, dreaming that Nick would actually tell me a plan to go out, but figured he wouldn’t so I came across Vince. He was old. Er. Than anyone I had gone out with before. 39 years to be exact. This was it, maybe. This was what I needed. Someone who is older, financially/mentally/emotionally stable, ready to meet someone, do the whole family thing, blah blah blah. We emailed a couple times, and then he asked for my number. Would I feel any guilt if I gave him my number? Hardly. I wasted no time typing him my number, and much to my surprise, he wasted no time calling me. Oh yeah, I said it. He CALLed me. I answered the phone and was greeted by a friendly, confident, New Jersey accent-filled voice. Ahhhh, I love my Jersey boys. Vince was now a triple threat: he calls, he’s from Jersey, and a Yankee fan to join me! Our conversation wasn’t drawn out, but it was long enough to learn that we felt a spark and wanted to see if we could turn that into a fire. Not a real one with flames burning, but ya know, a little passion between us. We’re meeting this weekend for an early drink. What perfect timing (for once) because Nick and I have been incommunicado for a couple days now, and just like with baseball, the Yankees seem to pull it off and get ahead of the Red Sox.

I Think Too Much Waiting

I guess pretty can only take a girl so far. Apparently I think too much which is just devastating to a potential relationship. Yup. That was Daniel’s reason. At least I think that was his reason. I never really got an explanation. This whole conversation came up soon after he museum-stalked my pictures. When I asked him for clarification he laughed and said, “See? You’re thinking too much into it. Just be yourself, don’t worry about it.” Umm huh? As confused as I was, I didn’t worry about it because I had no clue what to worry about. I was truly blank as to where his thought came from. We did continue talking after that and everything was normal. I went out of town and things were still normal. Then, not normal. No returning phone calls. No sending messages. No texting back. Nothing. I stepped up the crazy because I wanted answers, darnit! Abandonment had happened too many times, and I was looking for justice!

Through texting, this exchange occurred:

Me: I’m feeling that you’re not interested anymore.

Daniel: I think you’re a really sweet girl and I want to see you again, but I think you think too much about things.

Ok, I think YOU think too much about things since we’re having this conversation about I don’t even know what. Oh, and then I never heard from him again. That's. Just. Great. After that, I had given up. There was so much promise with Daniel, but I was left broken. I didn’t cry, though, he just wasn’t worth it. And he lived in Alexandria so thank God I didn’t have to drive out there anymore at least. Next, I did what any totally sane yet boy-frustrated single girl would do: I called the next guy on the list. Sweet Nick. My Italian-Irish Boston hunk who canceled our date and thus I landed in Daniel’s big but jerk arms. Out of all the hundreds of profiles I had looked at, his was always the one I came back to. He didn’t blab about himself forever, it was brief and to the point, and he had all pictures of himself, not his dog and not the landscape of whatever nature hike he may have gone on. He was a guy’s guy. I did not succeed at getting him to talk on the phone, but 400 text messages later, we had plans to meet for a drink. The attraction, for me, was instant. Despite his claims to be shy, he was very friendly, open, and we were cracking jokes about each other soon after meeting. He kept telling me I could go ahead and put him in the “friend category,” I guess anticipating that I wasn’t gonna like him? Uh yeah, that’s definitely not the category I want to put you in. We shared common values, personalities were similar, and the chemistry was just right. As we said our good-byes though, the perfect evening got a slight snag in its pantyhose. I sort of told him to grow a set. Ok, not sort of, I out right told him to. He was seeming nonchalant about what he wanted or what his next move would be so I laid it out and told him if he didn’t want anything or to go out again then that was fine. But if he liked me then I liked him so he needed to yes, grow a set, and ask me out again. I know, I’ve got the perfect words for securing that second date. Maybe one day I’ll learn to hold my tongue, or maybe one day I’ll find the guy that can handle my comments/not take them to heart too much. A few minutes later, I sent a text apologizing since I figured I had already scared him once with that comment, I didn’t want to scare him again with a phone call. He was very cool about it and said he did want to go out again. We’ve been texting, with plans tentatively hovering above us, but not actually solidified. I’ve been told it’s his responsibility to set the date, so, for now, I wait again to see his next move.