So, last night I went out with Soul Patch. I didn't inform the readers (or Alejandro) because I was:
a. embarrassed to be going on two dates in a row
b. was feeling rather cursed
We had made plans to hang out on Thursday a couple days ago, but then I had the spontaneous no-good very bad date with Face, so I was planning on cancelling. However, I woke-up feeling refreshed and thought, fuck it, I have to see this guy through.
He took me to Little Italy. We walked around. He bought me a really nice dinner, and oodles of pastries. We sat outside at a picnic table and talked for a long time. I liked his sense of humor. He made me a laugh. A lot. We decided the soul patch is really just a hitler moustache in disguise. We talked about books and hating hipsters. I told him I "write about my dating life" (if he's smart, he'll figure out that I blog), and that I call him Soul Patch. He loved that.
The problem (and boy is it a problem): Soul Patch and I are exact opposites, and not in a good way. He owns businesses. I own cats. He is deathly allergic to cats; therefore, he doesn't like cats. Um, cats are awesome. He is this huge water snob that only drinks bottled water. I ordered tap, and he almost threw up, as I proceeded to drink as much tap water as possible--just to irritate him. He is a youth group leader in his church. I don't believe in god. He voted for McCain. Me: Obama. He drives everywhere. I take the T. He hasn't cooked a meal in three years. I cook almost everyday. He doesn't drink. I drink almost everyday. He doesn't eat chocolate, caffeine, red meat, or anything fun at all. I eat all of the above, and then some. Whenever I pointed out our differences--which I did about every 6.9 minutes--he reminded me of Paula Abdul's hit, "Opposites Attract." He's weird. Very weird. Pretentious (re: water) and possibly a total jerk. It was hard to tell. Weirdest. Date. Ever.
I always take it as a bad sign if the guy doesn't offer to drive me home, so maybe he didn't have as much fun as I did. However, he seemed to like me, so who knows! It will absolutely not go beyond another date or two, but if he asks me out again, I may go.
Whilst on my date with Patchy, Tiger called to make plans. I'm seeing him for dinner and DRINKS next Wed. or Thursday, thus ending the dating bracket. I was hoping to go on dates with all four in a week, just to see if I could do it, but he can't until next week. Three down. One to go...
Friday, July 30, 2010
Thursday, July 29, 2010
awkward
Alrighty, so I shouldn't be so nervous about these things. It does not help.
Went out with The Face. He's extremely good-looking, but in this kinda wonky way. I saw him and got all excited. But, before you get your hopes up, I'll tell you right now, reader, it is not gonna happen. Here's why...
He was incredibly late (which isn't the end of the world, but coupled with everything else, bothered me). There were lots of awkward silences. Lots. He talked about ex-girlfriends and marriage/weddings a lot, so then I talked about ex-boyfriends and marriage/weddings a lot, leading to more awkwardness. I would talk about funny things (like my parents) and he didn't laugh. He's the musician type, and that's kinda all he wanted to talk about (reminding me of a particularly bad ex of mine). He travels all the time for "gigs," which 23 year old Lola would love, but 27 year old Lola finds annoying. He looked bored, leading me to get more and more nervous and ramble. He ordered food and didn't ask me if I was going to order anything. I talked about weird stuff. He was confident and smelled incredibly good, but didn't ask about my cats.
The date lasted less than Bean's date. The real kicker is that I would have stayed out later, just to see if maybe the awkward nerve stuff subsided, leading to awesomeness. But he def. wasn't interested, and when we parted, he was clearly anxious to get the fuck away from me. I think I was the Bean in the situation. I'm cool with it, because I don't want to see him again. But, regardless, that little bit of rejection isn't good for the self confidence, which has been wavering anyway.
Alejandro was wonderful, coaxing me through from a pre-date phone call and frantic texts from the bathroom. My other best male friend, I shall call him Dr. X, was also a doll via text from Chicago.
On my way home, I decided to give up on the Bracket. It is cursed. But, after a good night's sleep and some Buffy, I decided I do kinda want to give Patchy a try. He's hilarious and once he finally stopped being flaky about contacting me, it has been good. We talked, briefly, on the phone. I learned that he's had the soul-patch since high school. I told him the soul patch makes me nervous, and then quickly ended the conversation.
I've started this bracket, and I'm gonna finish it!
I have a headache today. I think its from all the talk about music...
Went out with The Face. He's extremely good-looking, but in this kinda wonky way. I saw him and got all excited. But, before you get your hopes up, I'll tell you right now, reader, it is not gonna happen. Here's why...
He was incredibly late (which isn't the end of the world, but coupled with everything else, bothered me). There were lots of awkward silences. Lots. He talked about ex-girlfriends and marriage/weddings a lot, so then I talked about ex-boyfriends and marriage/weddings a lot, leading to more awkwardness. I would talk about funny things (like my parents) and he didn't laugh. He's the musician type, and that's kinda all he wanted to talk about (reminding me of a particularly bad ex of mine). He travels all the time for "gigs," which 23 year old Lola would love, but 27 year old Lola finds annoying. He looked bored, leading me to get more and more nervous and ramble. He ordered food and didn't ask me if I was going to order anything. I talked about weird stuff. He was confident and smelled incredibly good, but didn't ask about my cats.
The date lasted less than Bean's date. The real kicker is that I would have stayed out later, just to see if maybe the awkward nerve stuff subsided, leading to awesomeness. But he def. wasn't interested, and when we parted, he was clearly anxious to get the fuck away from me. I think I was the Bean in the situation. I'm cool with it, because I don't want to see him again. But, regardless, that little bit of rejection isn't good for the self confidence, which has been wavering anyway.
Alejandro was wonderful, coaxing me through from a pre-date phone call and frantic texts from the bathroom. My other best male friend, I shall call him Dr. X, was also a doll via text from Chicago.
On my way home, I decided to give up on the Bracket. It is cursed. But, after a good night's sleep and some Buffy, I decided I do kinda want to give Patchy a try. He's hilarious and once he finally stopped being flaky about contacting me, it has been good. We talked, briefly, on the phone. I learned that he's had the soul-patch since high school. I told him the soul patch makes me nervous, and then quickly ended the conversation.
I've started this bracket, and I'm gonna finish it!
I have a headache today. I think its from all the talk about music...
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Don't Fuck Up
Dear Dearest Lola,
You have a date with your number one seed tonight. This occurrence happened rather quickly. You got impatient, harassed the poor boy, he said pick a time and place, you said Thursday. He countered with Friday. You said, I have plans with my ladies on Friday, countering back with tonight or Sunday. He said tonight.
So, you've bathed and shaved. Watched some Buffy the Vampire Slayer to take your mind off the impending date (drinks at 9). You watched Xander's eye get fucked up, and that was unsettling, but you've shaken it off. You've thought about The Hills and how Alejandro got weepy today when Whitney left for NYC. You've eaten a carb-heavy meal, tucked away the teddy bear that lives in your bed (jic), and have oiled your hair with Moroccan oil. You're ready. But...
You're nervous as hell. And you don't know why. Perhaps because this date has so much more potential than Bean. Perhaps because the only first date you've been on in a year was with Bean, and well, you know how well that went. Perhaps you're nervous because you've come on really strong. Perhaps because this dude calls you on your shit (already); he's a straight-shooter. Perhaps because you're not really sure what his face looks like. Perhaps because he's skinny, and you've vowed never to date thin men. Perhaps because your hair is still wet, yet you sit here writing. Perhaps because you have offered to pay because he's in grad school and has no money. Perhaps because he's smart. Perhaps because he kindly emailed you the recipe for a perfect steak.
So, remember, Self, don't call him Face Guy to his face. Don't almost call him Face Guy, like the time you almost called Sister Kendra, Sister Satan during 10th grade bio. Don't get too drunk and tell him about the dating blog. You're an open book and while that is something you like about yourself, don't shoot yourself in the foot by announcing to this kid that's he's apart of some larger social dating experiment. Don't ask too many questions. Don't forget you're not fat like you think you are. Don't put all your eggs in one basket, or chickens in the hen house, or however that saying goes. Don't call yourself an alcholic or a whore. Don't talk about your ex-boyfriends, or too much about your cats. And for god's sake, Lola, don't come call him Face Guy.
That's all. Go get 'em Tiger.
Love always,
Lola
You have a date with your number one seed tonight. This occurrence happened rather quickly. You got impatient, harassed the poor boy, he said pick a time and place, you said Thursday. He countered with Friday. You said, I have plans with my ladies on Friday, countering back with tonight or Sunday. He said tonight.
So, you've bathed and shaved. Watched some Buffy the Vampire Slayer to take your mind off the impending date (drinks at 9). You watched Xander's eye get fucked up, and that was unsettling, but you've shaken it off. You've thought about The Hills and how Alejandro got weepy today when Whitney left for NYC. You've eaten a carb-heavy meal, tucked away the teddy bear that lives in your bed (jic), and have oiled your hair with Moroccan oil. You're ready. But...
You're nervous as hell. And you don't know why. Perhaps because this date has so much more potential than Bean. Perhaps because the only first date you've been on in a year was with Bean, and well, you know how well that went. Perhaps you're nervous because you've come on really strong. Perhaps because this dude calls you on your shit (already); he's a straight-shooter. Perhaps because you're not really sure what his face looks like. Perhaps because he's skinny, and you've vowed never to date thin men. Perhaps because your hair is still wet, yet you sit here writing. Perhaps because you have offered to pay because he's in grad school and has no money. Perhaps because he's smart. Perhaps because he kindly emailed you the recipe for a perfect steak.
So, remember, Self, don't call him Face Guy to his face. Don't almost call him Face Guy, like the time you almost called Sister Kendra, Sister Satan during 10th grade bio. Don't get too drunk and tell him about the dating blog. You're an open book and while that is something you like about yourself, don't shoot yourself in the foot by announcing to this kid that's he's apart of some larger social dating experiment. Don't ask too many questions. Don't forget you're not fat like you think you are. Don't put all your eggs in one basket, or chickens in the hen house, or however that saying goes. Don't call yourself an alcholic or a whore. Don't talk about your ex-boyfriends, or too much about your cats. And for god's sake, Lola, don't come call him Face Guy.
That's all. Go get 'em Tiger.
Love always,
Lola
ongoing awesome
Last night I went out for date numero dos with the current lady. As I said before, I was excited but a little cautious, a little wary, about it. We went for sushi, and I arrived early. I sat there, waiting, expectant, my foot tapping faster than hummingbird wings, looking forward to the moment she moved into view in the picture windows.
She arrived, we had delicious sushi, then delicious ice cream. We walked and held hands, we might have smooched a little, and so on. In many ways, it was a lot like our first date.
I had been concerned, after some brief flakiness, that she wasn't actually into me and was trying to send hints. Indeed, the brilliant and reliable Kat Cox assessed that to be the likely situation. But she's definitely into me. I'm definitely into her. I don't feel nervous about it like I did during and after the first date; I feel really confident.
I have to skip town for a couple weeks, which will be a good trip, but the timing is unfortunate. She was definitely sad that I'll be gone, which I take as a good sign. I do think we'll see each other later this week though.
The real issue that comes now is my role in this blog. When Lola and I started, the agreement was if you're five dates in, you could bounce. But the truth is, I see real potential with this girl. You'll notice she doesn't have a nickname on this blog - it's because I don't want to think of her that way. So if I write less and less about this relationship as it develops, be happy. Besides, I will definitely contribute in other ways.
She arrived, we had delicious sushi, then delicious ice cream. We walked and held hands, we might have smooched a little, and so on. In many ways, it was a lot like our first date.
I had been concerned, after some brief flakiness, that she wasn't actually into me and was trying to send hints. Indeed, the brilliant and reliable Kat Cox assessed that to be the likely situation. But she's definitely into me. I'm definitely into her. I don't feel nervous about it like I did during and after the first date; I feel really confident.
I have to skip town for a couple weeks, which will be a good trip, but the timing is unfortunate. She was definitely sad that I'll be gone, which I take as a good sign. I do think we'll see each other later this week though.
The real issue that comes now is my role in this blog. When Lola and I started, the agreement was if you're five dates in, you could bounce. But the truth is, I see real potential with this girl. You'll notice she doesn't have a nickname on this blog - it's because I don't want to think of her that way. So if I write less and less about this relationship as it develops, be happy. Besides, I will definitely contribute in other ways.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
THE RAM
As an Aries, I possess the following oft-negative characteristics of stubbornness, detrimentally strong emotions, impatience, and a wily aggressiveness. As an Aries, I love to be the chaser, not the chased. For the most part, I have been the pursuer of love. I approach. I call. I ask him out on a date. I am very comfortable in this role. This, for the most part, has worked splendidly. And, then, when I am chased by a man it makes for a nice change and I feel pretty. With my last boyfriend, he was very straightforward. I asked him out (clearly). But, when the date went well, he, promptly, called me and asked me out again. That was nice.
As of late, I have been fighting my natural instincts. Be patient, I tell myself. If he doesn't call you right away, that doesn't mean anything. Particularly in the world of on-line dating. Don't be overly aggressive and scare potential awesome dudes away. I've had a strict, "they come to me" attitude in the on-line dating world. I make them do the fucking winking or emailing or high-fiving or whatever. Then, after we chat a bit, I give my number, but wait for him to call. Well, dear readers, The Ram is getting tired of waiting.
In an age of endless communication, how do you communicate? For example, Soul Patch and I have been writing and texting. After my bad phone call with Bean, I am hesitant to call. Soul Patch asked me to hang out (via text) on Sunday. I gave him dates and times. Didn't hear back. So, last night, I texted him again (something coy, but also along the lines of wtf), and haven't heard back. Patchy, I'm not playing that game. I haven't even met the guy, so it is not worth my time to wait around for him to communicate.
I'm getting tired of waiting, guessing. Maybe I'll just have to go back to my natural inclination as an Aries. Be the aggressor. Be the chaser. Hunt.
As of late, I have been fighting my natural instincts. Be patient, I tell myself. If he doesn't call you right away, that doesn't mean anything. Particularly in the world of on-line dating. Don't be overly aggressive and scare potential awesome dudes away. I've had a strict, "they come to me" attitude in the on-line dating world. I make them do the fucking winking or emailing or high-fiving or whatever. Then, after we chat a bit, I give my number, but wait for him to call. Well, dear readers, The Ram is getting tired of waiting.
In an age of endless communication, how do you communicate? For example, Soul Patch and I have been writing and texting. After my bad phone call with Bean, I am hesitant to call. Soul Patch asked me to hang out (via text) on Sunday. I gave him dates and times. Didn't hear back. So, last night, I texted him again (something coy, but also along the lines of wtf), and haven't heard back. Patchy, I'm not playing that game. I haven't even met the guy, so it is not worth my time to wait around for him to communicate.
I'm getting tired of waiting, guessing. Maybe I'll just have to go back to my natural inclination as an Aries. Be the aggressor. Be the chaser. Hunt.
a little help from friends
Dear readers, as you know, I have been struggling with the lady situation. I have refused to give the current lady a nickname, as I actually like her and don't wish to compare her to some sort of Batman villain (as has happened in the past with The Penguin, and before her, Catwoman).
So I've talked to nearly every friend I have about the situation, and they've given me a range of advice. I even went to friend and dating columnist Kat Cox, whom I have long recommended as someone of insight. She even took my situation as the occasion for a column.
Truth is, there was some part of me that was thinking along these lines already. Not that I wanted to, but it was the case. In my brain, this girl was either (a) super busy, (b) no longer interested, or (c) dead. None of those were good options.
So on the advice of my trivia team executive officer, I texted the lady yesterday morning, letting her know I was skipping town for a bit, and seeing if she was free for dindin. Turns out, she was busy, although the reasons for that remain to be seen. We're going to sushi tonight.
I'm excited, believe me, but I'm also a little more cautious about this. Is she flaky? Will she disappear on me regularly? I like her a lot and want this to work, but I'm a little more skeptical now.
Then again, as soon as I see her I'll probably get giddy as a schoolgirl again.
So I've talked to nearly every friend I have about the situation, and they've given me a range of advice. I even went to friend and dating columnist Kat Cox, whom I have long recommended as someone of insight. She even took my situation as the occasion for a column.
Truth is, there was some part of me that was thinking along these lines already. Not that I wanted to, but it was the case. In my brain, this girl was either (a) super busy, (b) no longer interested, or (c) dead. None of those were good options.
So on the advice of my trivia team executive officer, I texted the lady yesterday morning, letting her know I was skipping town for a bit, and seeing if she was free for dindin. Turns out, she was busy, although the reasons for that remain to be seen. We're going to sushi tonight.
I'm excited, believe me, but I'm also a little more cautious about this. Is she flaky? Will she disappear on me regularly? I like her a lot and want this to work, but I'm a little more skeptical now.
Then again, as soon as I see her I'll probably get giddy as a schoolgirl again.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
First Date
Went on my date with Bean last night. Dinner and drinks. He was a really nice guy, so I'm not gonna say too much bad about him. I'm sure he'll find a lovely lady one day. However, it was clear after about five minutes that it isn't going to work. He did, however, want to hang out all night (he said something about going to Waltham to see him friends, which I thought was weird), but I went home--not wanting to lead him on. I feel a little bad, but we just weren't on the same level. I mean, when I asked him if he reads he said, "What, like, stories?"
I'm an asshole and am pretty sure I have jinxed myself through creating a dating bracket.
I'm an asshole and am pretty sure I have jinxed myself through creating a dating bracket.
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