It's You, Not Me

Okay, Greg and I never actually screamed at each other (well, not in person like this), but this is DEFINITELY how I felt when I was around him.

Clearly it has not been wedded bliss with Greg, but there I was, trying yet again to forge ahead with him. I made him a nice homecooked meal (+dessert!), and I thought it was a perfectly good evening. Could there still be a chance for Greg and I to work out? I’ve always thought and felt that when it’s the right person, I’ll just know, and that there will be a connection between us. With that said, I’ve also never been very successful with anyone and maybe that’s because of me. Maybe I’ve gotta get rid of this fairytale in my heart and realize that it won’t happen that way. Maybe I’ve been wrong all along, and love will take time to develop. Maybe it really is me. Orrrrr maybe it’s Greg. Reason for this thought? Because apparently it was awkward that, during dessert, we sat across the table from each other instead of next to each other. He told me his feelings about the dessert ‘awkwardness’ during his break up speech to me. Yes, you read correctly. HE broke up with ME.

He cited our differences in how we view situations—you know, I view them sanely and correctly, and he views them with some definite emotional distress. I was incredibly surprised that Greg ultimately stated, “I really just can’t get over what I said to you in those texts. I can’t forgive myself for it. I feel so bad that I said those things to you, I don’t know how I can recover and how we can move on.” Welp. Umm. For once I was speechless. He sounded so genuine that all I could say was, “I know things have been tough. I try to look to the future, and while I wonder what could happen between us, I won’t force you into something you don’t want.” And that was it. He was gone.

I should be relieved that Greg broke up with me (at least he mostly shouldered the blame for it not working out), and, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy that I can go back to being myself. My blunt-no filtered-joking around-self. However, I can’t help but notice that this is another fail. Greg actually wanted me. He wanted to give me the life I’ve always wanted. He was taking things seriously (eek! a little too seriously!) What does it say if I STILL can’t make it work with someone like that? It must be me.

Court Date

Last time Greg and I hung out, his most recent outrageous comment was, “I don’t think what I said to you is any worse than the things you have said to me.”  His rationale for this was that yes, he knowingly said hurtful things, but at least he knew they were hurtful. The things I say to him, you know, those really quite insignificant things that he keeps manipulating into whatever drama he wants them to be, are WORSE because I am not thinking about how he will interpret them and therefore I am a worse person because I am not thinking of him. Here’s the thing--I’ll kick your ass and I’m pretty sure there will be no misinterpretation on anyone’s part. I drilled my point to a certain degree because I knew he just wouldn’t see it, but I did make sure to tell him that he completely misreads everything so the only way for me to 'watch his feelings' I guess would be for me to not speak. And that just ain't gon' happen. I don’t intend harm when I say things, but he outright meant to hurt me during the texting war. I’m still not sure he understands what I’m saying.

How? How do I end up with these people? And why? Why do I continue to go out with them? Oh yeah, for the stories. Read on…

To help ease the crazy amount of tension forming between Greg and I, my peace-making gesture was to treat him to a movie. I chose a comedy—since apparently I can’t make him laugh, maybe the guys in the movie will be able to. All was good, and it was great to have a calm evening for once. I guess because I wasn’t talking and so he had nothing to cry about? That was mean, I’m sorry. Actually, no, no I’m not. He deserved it. Anyway, regardless of why it was a nice time, I’ll take it. I even made a good effort to hold his hands and all that other nonsense. It didn’t feel forced which is a step in the positive direction. AND he even laughed! Again, not at my hilarious comments, but at least I know he does have a sense of humor buried somewhere in there.

When the movie ended, Greg and I ended up outside the theater in the town center, pondering what to do next. He asked if I wanted to go back to his house, but I was tired. Well, first honestly: I was getting a little tired of the drive over there. Second honestly: I felt like I had been doing a lot to smooth things over from his tantrum, and I don’t think he was doing enough so why should I cater to him? Third honestly: The movie was good, the night was fine, time to go home. Well, FINALLY Greg interpreted something correctly. He said, “It doesn’t seem like you’re okay from what happened.” Good job, Greggy! Took ya long enough! I told him, “I’m still trying to move on from the things that you said and time will really be helpful here.” The conversation went on a bit longer, but voices were calm, tones were friendly, and I even kept my Italian-flailing hands at rest.

A kiss good-bye and I was on my way home. He does have a lot of great qualities, and I really like that he’s looking toward the future (in terms of having a family) which is unlike pretty much every other male creature in the DC area. He’s a hard worker, has a nice group of friends, close with his siblings, outgoing, masculine (minus the whole crying and can’t-take-a joke-thing), and I think he does have a good heart, it’s just a little messed up at times. When I arrived home, I saw this text: “I thought things were going fine tonight at the movies, but then we were standing there outside the theater arguing. And then it ended awkwardly.”

Oh, s*** Greg. You need some help.

Beauty and the Beast

Well, now I’m glad I brought Greg pizza and apple pie, and I hope I made him fat! These are not the words of a sweet girl, dating the guy of her dreams. These are the words of a frustrated girl who sat through a tirade of assaults and who now wishes weight gain upon her assaulterer as revenge. This is what went down: I took a couple nights to visit with friends, and then on the day that I was supposed to see Greg, I got sick. Once I started teaching after college, my immune system has grown to hate me so this isn’t unusual, especially after coming off of a trip. After apologizing and telling him I needed to get better, the beast was unleashed. His beast, not mine. I remained a beauty. Oh, and true to the story of my life, this whole debacle begins through text messages (*&#$^@*)  

Greg’s claims are that I’m spending all my time with my friends, I’m never with him, I’m not affectionate, (geeze, is this topic REALLY coming up again? Please refer to this post for a refresher of my past demons) we have to do everything how I want, I’m selfish, I say mean things to him, but really, in general terms, he flipped out. When I suggested that we talk this through on the phone or in person--I offered to drive out to him--instead of texting (@(*#&@) like 15 year olds (okay, I know I know, that EVERYONE texts now, but I still firmly believe a phone call is in order when there is a legit argument occurring between two adults) I was met with yet more backlash. My suggestion cultivated a response of, “We always have to do things on your terms!” My terms? Yeah, because my terms are that of a sane, responsible, non-dramatic adult and because my terms are awesome. They’re also unselfish and un-everything Greg said about them and me. Insert allusion to tears—on his end, not mine—and more insults—again, from his end, not mine. Honestly, I felt a little bit bad about myself after he said these things, but that feeling quickly dissipated when I realized that he’s crazy and makes no sense.

After a couple hours of texting, (!@^*&^@#) he extended the invite for me to go over to talk in person. Yes, he behaved like a jerk, and yes, he should be the one kissing my ass to make up for it, but we all have our moments, and I much prefer to know that I put in every effort to make something work until I know it’s totally done. Not many words were spoken when I went over…I didn’t want to rehash everything that had just been said, but I tried to make my points again, and mostly focused on the fact that he is twisting what I say and that he is a bit needier than what I feel like I can handle (I did use nicer words than this, I’m not a total jerk).

He seemed to understand that I’m not out to get him, and he started to make a good turn around until he said: “I don’t think what I said to you is any worse than the things you have said to me.”  Ohhhh sweet child, I’ll see you in court.

Apple of My Pizza Pie

While I was away on my trip, I missed Greg’s birthday so I made it up to him a couple days ago. Seeee? I can still be nice even after he has been twisting my words. He’d been working hard on a diet/lifestyle change so what better way to encourage him than to bring him a pizza and some homemade apple pie?! I swear I’m not sabotaging him…We had talked about pizza way before, and I was raving about how there are no good pizza places in our area except for Joe’s in Vienna (and now I have discovered Piero’s—locations in Herndon and Fairfax and their pizza is wood-fired!). Hence, my genius idea to bring him a few slices to test out. Apple pie is one of his favorites, AND I can show him my domestic side. All was calm when I was there—no accusations were tossed from his mouth so that always makes for a successful day.

I’m not feeling particularly close to him, though. Maybe it’s because I’m walking around on egg shells, second guessing everything I’m saying, or speaking in a delay so I can run through my thoughts before I say them. There’s just one teensy weensy problem with this—it’s not my personality at all--I never think about what I say! To make it worse, he doesn’t find me funny. Dude, I’m gonna make fun of you and I expect you to make fun of me. If you’re going to cry about it (literally, he has cried, not in front of me, but he’s alluded to it) then this is definitely not going to work. I will be clear, though, that he truly does misinterpret things that I say, and he will find a way that I have offended him. Greg, I’m pretty clever. If I want to offend you, I will, and you won’t have to make up anything in your head.

Since I’m not feeling close to him, I’m not wanting to spend so much time with him which is apparently another problem. Geeze, now I know how guys feel. Sorry, men! I completely understand how much crap you guys put up with from girls! It feels like I can’t do anything right and we have to accommodate him all the time. Well, I have friends to visit with and he will have to deal with not seeing me every night this week. I do like that he wants a family, and he doesn’t want it “someday” as so many guys in this area feel, but he wants it definitely and soon. He wants a nice home, a mom for his kids, and he likes the idea of stepping farther away from these crowded suburbs. He’s a guy’s guy who actually wants to be loved. I’m just not sure that I’m the one to love him.

Twist and Shout

Time got away from me—I had a trip out west that crept up on me, and I didn’t get to update about Greg before I left. So, I did meet his good friend, Jim, and Jim’s girlfriend. We met up for happy hour drinks and then dinner. Everything was fine, and I really liked the girlfriend—we got along well and were able to converse on our own while the boys had their convos. After dinner we walked around the town center and stumbled upon some delicious cupcakes. Well, I thought they were delicious until I touched one and felt what I thought was UNbaked sweetness. You know something is wrong with the dessert when I won’t eat it. Call me crazy, but I would like my cupcake to hold its form instead of being a spread. We had gotten one cupcake to share because I was quite full from dinner, and Greg kindly ate the whole cupcake. I like a guy who can eat!

I thought the night was fine—Greg and I had a good time together as well as with his friends. All was well until Greg tells me, “Yeah, Jim says he can tell that we’re new together and it’s still kinda awkward. Because we don’t hold hands and stuff.” I’m sorry, are we 5? Jim, I think it’s kinda awkward that you’ve known your girlfriend for only a month and you’re already living with her. The only people I ever hold the hands of are the super cute kids in my class who grab on from time to time…or my drunk friends when we are out and we don’t want to get separated.

Instead of focusing on us not being “couply” in our (lack of) romantic actions, Jim should pay more attention to how his friend Greg has the knack to twist words and cry about everything I say, or actually DON’T say, for that matter. Perfect example: I had just gotten back from my trip and was very happy to be reunited with my doggy. I was hugging her and squeezing her and everything. I can’t help it. She’s like a baby and I’ve known her for some years now and I missed her. Realizing I had left out Greg from my hugfest, I told him, “Don’t worry, I’ll love on YOU like this later!” Cute, right? Flirty, right? Apparently not. Greg heard, “One day, if you’re lucky, I will love you like this.” I laughed. In his face. And said, “You are crazy, I NEVER said that and there were people there to witness what I really said.” Poor child doesn’t realize I’m actually a lawyer and not a teacher and he will never win. Hopefully he will relax a little after I’ve really kind of lashed back for his complete making-up-of-situations. 

And We're Dancing...Dancing In the Street

For the second date with Greg, I stepped out of the usual dinner/drinks and casually invited him to a friend’s block party—you know, a collective gathering of folks ranging from the types I attended in my JMU days (complete with drinks only and a smattering of police officers) to the family neighborhood get togethers which actually include food and young children. But this weekend I found myself and Greg en route to a young professionals blocks party, which fairly resembled a family block party, but this one had beer pong and flip cup!

The block party was a great way to spend the day and it was an added bonus to see Greg with others. We played beer pong together, he made fun of me, and then we danced. The dancing could go either way—it was a slow song so it could be read as super sweet and romantic or, being that it was the second date and I tend to swing hard on the lunacy pendulum, it can be seen as, “this is too much too soon, please don’t touch me!” or something like that. Unlike Jeremy, who stranded me at a wedding when I expressed concern over dancing, Greg remained calm and coaxed me into being the only two people to slow dance in the middle of the street while we were surrounded by loud dogs and even louder people. I hacked into my own brain and realized that if this were a scene from a movie, I’d probably be going, “I want a guy like that! Why don’t I have a guy like that?” Annndd here we are. So, I plastered a smile on my face and held onto his 6’2” frame.

The couple girls that I knew at the party absolutely loved Greg. He was clearly a social guy and when he walked into the room, or um in this case, street, you knew he was there. He had no shyness to him, and I worried he was climbing the border wall from “entertaining” to “obnoxious” but my friends assured me he was not “THAT guy” at the party. Phew!

Back In The Game

My online dating career had been put on hold while my first date with Richard (the friend of the boyfriend of my friend—this feels like 6 degrees of separation!) evolved into a semi-relationship for 4 months. The ending with Richard was a tough one, and I stayed away from any thoughts of guys or dating for months—until now. Nothing brings a good pick me up like getting tons of three word emails and winks from guys who are not at all who I want. I typed in a couple qualifiers and started browsing, but I wasn’t convinced to actually subscribe again.

And then I saw him. THAT’S the kind of guy I want. Dark hair, tall, bigger, All-American country-yet-living-in-suburbia kinda guy. Then I scrolled down through his profile and liked what I read. He doesn’t brag about the mountains he’s climbed or the hundreds of countries he’s visited—he’s normal. A normal guy with a good sense of humor. Before I knew it, I found myself subscribing to match. Again. Within a day, I had a phone call from Greg (MAJOR bonus points for the guy!) and our get together was planned!

We chose a sports bar type of location for the relaxed and fun atmosphere. This also led us to discover that my affinity for Boston fans had yet again proven itself. We had a great time—I think I might actually be getting better at this. Could it be true? Almost 4 years of online dating, and I can now pick out my match from thousands of profiles? There was a lot of promise with Greg, and before he had walked me back to my car, our second date was set.

Who Said Match Was Only For Dating?

Hello, friends! I have been away for far too long. Blogging gets kinda tough when you actually like the guy you’re dating and there’s nothing to make fun of or complain about. But, good news—hmm, maybe not so good news—Kpsmyln6 is ready to pounce again! Real life love did not work out. Surprised, right? I was, too. I’m still hurting from it, but that’s why the internet is armed with thousands of men who could potentially possibly slightly wanna meet me. And so I pull up the match.com webpage, but this time is different—I haven’t subscribed yet. I’m just looking, you know, doing a little window shopping. There are also some signals that I think I’m not quite ready to meet anyone or at least maybe not in this way. Here’s what happens when I browse through match:

1. Half of the profiles don’t even get fully read or viewed because EVERY SINGLE MALE apparently believes that using the phrase “partner in crime” is the key to getting the girl. Uhhh, no, dummies, it’s actually not. I don’t know who in internet dating started using it, but once boys started looking at other boys’ profiles, that baby just spread. Just as quickly as I will cut you from the lineup for having cats, I will leave you out for using that phrase.

2. There’s this fun new game I’ve created called, “Guess the Heights of Match.com Daters By Only Looking at their Main Profile Picture.” Okay, so I’m working on the title, but now you pretty much know all about the game. I have absolutely no factual information for making my height predictions and generally I’m wrong every single time, but it’s fun and challenges me to get a height correct for once!

3. Inevitably I end up in a self-debate about guys who have no qualifiers for their dates—meaning, they have “No Preference” marked for alllll of the qualifiers where you can have a preference. Examples of this are: education, height, body type, desire to have kids, etc. I always have to wonder…are these guys THAT open minded that they don’t care about certain things in their match or do they not care because they don’t care about taking it seriously? It’s always a little sketchy when “no preference” is selected except for an “athletic and toned” body. Umm, yeah, k, we all know what you’re after!

For now, I'll stay away from the subscribe button, but Lord knows I can't stay away from match!

Take That, Jeff Foxworthy & Your Lists!

You know you’ve been online dating for too long when…

1) You see/meet people in real life who you “know” from the online dating world

1a) When you see/meet these people in real life, you don’t know their real name, but you DO know their match name.

                    

2) You have learned which match guys are friends with each other because you recognize them in each other’s profile pictures.

            2a) You also see people you actually know in someone’s match pictures. Come on people! Protect yourselves! Crop your pictures and don’t include your name on your profile! (This one follows closely with 5, 5a, and 5b)

3) You think about things in real life and immediately associate it with a profile you’ve seen. For example: Recently, I was looking into things to do on my next road trip vacation. I came across something about white water rafting and thought, “Oh, (insert match name here) would love to come here and do this!”

4) You start to sift through profiles (of guys and girls) to see who you know who’s online dating.

            4a) You find that the almost-promising, slightly older guy is actually your high school guidance counselor.

5) You make the connection between people you see dating online and a trail of mutual facebook friends.

            5a) You then begin to believe you’d make a pretty darn good investigator with all this scoop you can find out from a couple profiles and pictures! Oh, yes, I’m lookin’ at you, Tom, who teaches at a local high school, is from upstate New York, loves football, but coaches track.

            5b) After that, you start to think you have gone crazy and should perhaps close your computer and put to rest the madness of online dating.

6) You search profiles not for a soul mate, but for hobby ideas, activities, and places to visit. These guys have got some good interests!

            6a) I may not have found love, but I’ve read new books, listened to new musicians, been to new bars, and discovered new places to travel.

Guided to Frustration

After I tested out my new site for online dating, I quickly learned that I was not a fan of it at all. The site has two different methods of communication. I believe they do this in an effort to help those who are socially awkward. How sweet. You choose which method you prefer: Guided or Open. One communication is normal—if you are sent a person you seem to like, then you can email them and sit and cross your fingers that they will email you back. Or, if you see a person you seem to like, you can send them 5 multiple choice questions to answer. Then they respond, and you send your questions. And then they respond, and they ask you something else stupid. And then you ask them something else stupid, and…oh, you get it. Here’s my favorite part of guided communication, though…The Essay. I promise you this is real. After you and your socially awkward counterpart have made it through 3 rounds of questioning (what is this, a police interrogation?!), you reach the final stage: Sending 3 “final” questions that are to be responded to in short answer style. Even better, is that there is a time limit. Talk about nerve racking. I quickly learned to type up my responses in a Word document so I could revisit it and make whatever changes, and then I copied and pasted it in the site box seconds before clicking send. And there it goes. Off into online space where it will never been responded to.

Throughout my 3 month subscription, I emailed with 3 people who were biologically supposed to be men, although their actions don’t support that. I put in so much effort to respond to their questions because they were too annoying to have Open communication, and since it wasn’t “my turn” I couldn’t freely email them. One guy and I were answering-questions-communicating, and it finally reached the email point. I had left for a 3 day trip. On the third day, he closed communication with me citing I “had taken too long to respond.” Ohhhhh k, buddy. I think I’ll take advantage of the feature where I can click a button that will send a response to him that said something like “Oh, that’s too bad, you should reconsider because I think we have potential.” Please, child, we didn’t really have potential, but I wanted him to open it back up so I could tell him how stupid he was for canceling me when I was traveling without internet access. Which is precisely what I proceeded to do. I had countless guys “close” communication with me—in midcommunication. Talk about rude.

I did finally coax a guy into giving me his digits, and when I called, I never heard back. I was always proud of my beautifully crafted “Final Round” responses, and it seemed ridiculous to me that I couldn’t just email normally, but instead I had to wait for an answer since it was the other person’s turn to communicate. We’re not 5 years old. We already know how to converse.

In the end, it was this hand holding that made me realize match was a much better fit for me. I could communicate openly. I wasn’t subjected to intense scrutiny over whether or not I will be a social butterfly in every single situation or if I will wait a few minutes to be introduced to people (that's just 1 of the multiple choice questions you can send to your potential soul mate). I came to peace with my wasted subscription when I knew that I would never like anyone who didn’t feel comfortable enough to have a simple conversation and making a decision from that. Like and love should be that—simple. 

Disharmony

Okay, confession. Awhile ago, I turned my back on match. I was seeing the same guys come up in my searches over and over and over again, and it seemed like many of them weren’t really wanting anything serious. Oh, and by seemed, I mean that they would explicitly say in their profiles “not looking for anything serious, let’s have fun and see what happens.” This reputation of non-seriousness has apparently become synonymous with match, but there are people like that in real life so it is what it is. Even if match isn’t based around compatibility criteria, there’s something to be said for reading someone’s profile and looking at their picture and just knowing that they’re The One—to wink at or email and cross your fingers that they actually respond, and then maybe, just maybe, a get together can be set. My attention and match-finding focus turned toward using a different online dating site that believes people will find love based on common qualities, values, and interests. That’s tough for those of us who are really not good people at our core, but at this point, I had nothing to lose. Except a ton of money and hours of question-answering.

I got roped into the 3 month minimum subscription for my new dating site with a payment that ended up being roughly $1, 253. I didn’t realize I was on Millionaire Matchmaker here, but maybe this stuff works. I sat down at my computer and answered every. single. question. as if I were taking a college final exam. Except this isn’t a college exam, this is supposed to be my gateway to finding love! There was no profile to create. There was no method of letting your personality come through. It was all very, well, computerized. Everyone answered the same mostly-multiple-choice questions and that constituted your profile. I wanted my match back, why did I ever leave? I was doubtful of this. I trust myself enough that I can follow my heart to a potential soulmate instead of following what a computer system tells me. Then again, I’m still single. So, that robot did beat those people on Jeopardy, right? Maybe the robot will also rock as Cupid?