Saturday, November 20, 2010

Blast from the Past

A couple months ago, I was alerted to an new email on my POF account. When I opened it, I was shocked to see that it was from a guy I had been on several dates with a year prior. He was one of my first blog posts, as it turns out (the "good" of that dating triad). Despite several great dates last year, he had traveled for the holidays and we lost touch after his return to Seattle.

And one year later, I looked at the simple message on my computer screen: "You look good with longer hair." The memories came flooding back.

I've learned from this dating project that, when you loose touch with someone, it's usually for a good reason (no matter how appealing that person may seem after a time lapse). So, I was pretty skeptical. We chatted online for a bit and decided that it wouldn't hurt to meet up again.

He offered to cook me dinner, but wouldn't tell me what he was making (and, to be honest, I wasn't expecting much)! I got to his house and he hadn't started cooking yet--so I offered to help. But, he wouldn't let me touch a thing.

I will admit, it made me a little uncomfortable to sit around with nothing to do! (He sensed the uneasiness and I think he enjoyed getting me outside of my comfort zone.) But, it was probably good for me to not do ANYTHING for half an hour--between working, studying, and volunteering, I'm so used to running around like a chicken with my head cut off!

When he finally called me to the table, I was quite impressed! Laid out artfully on each plate were perfectly seared sesame encrusted Ahi tuna steaks, brown rice, and apple-endive salads! The night continued with good conversation and lovely company. Because we had already gone over all the "boring" details a year ago, we were able to have real conversations. It was so comfortable!

I had clinicals the following day, so I said my "goodbye's" and "thank you's." And, I left in high spirits. But a couple days later, I remembered what it was about him. He was not really dependable. When together, we had a ton of fun! But, then I wouldn't hear from him for a few days or weeks (or almost a year).

Since our reunion, we've met up a handful of times. And I really do enjoy hanging out with him (though we have very little in common). But, am I willing to disregard the unpredictability that is his nature? Hmmm...something to ponder...

In the meantime, it's fun :)

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Game Over

You know how people always say that you train your boyfriend for the next girl? Well, I’m not sure I fully believe that’s true, but lately I’ve been wondering if I’m doing just that.

No offense to SG#1 because he has many talents, but he is not a chef. In exchange for lessons about pop culture and music, I’ve been teaching SG#1 how to cook. And, since one must have an egg before they can cook a chicken, we started with lessons on grocery shopping for meals.

I know, I know, you’re already yawning at this blog post. “Poor me, I have a boyfriend that actually wants to learn how to grocery shop and cook.” BUT, as I help SG#1 sharpen his knife skills and ensure he knows how to pick the perfect avocado, am I preparing him to impress a younger, hotter version of me?

We started out at Trader Joe’s, me with my shopping list and reusable shopping bags and him with a look of mixed terror and excitement at the site of endless shelves filled with comestibles. We shared one cart and I quickly pulled my usuals off the shelves and threw them into my side of the cart like a contestant on Supermarket Sweep. SG#1 worked through the store more cautiously, and together we planned meals, committed to (attempting to) cook together at least once a week and filled the cart to the brim.

And then it happened.

My imagination went there.

You know, that place between reality and dreamland where you marry people in your head and picture your life together with 2.5 children and a white picket fence. I had successfully made it through five months of dating SG#1 without fully allowing my brain to take over my single-girl willpower, but there between organic bananas and boxes of quinoa I lost my game, all of it. I’m hoping SG#1 didn’t notice when I finally came-to and blushed, realizing I was making googly-eyed glances at him at the check stand. We loaded our bags into the car and I dropped off him and his groceries at his place. I must admit, there was a part of me wishing we were going home together to unload our groceries into our brushed metal refrigerator and make beautiful meals together – but the other 90 percent of me was completely freaking out, my game was over.

Then, a couple days later, I was counting up my dates and announced I had been on 78 dates. SG#1 got excited I was getting closer to 100, when he realized I meant I had been on 78 dates, not us together. “I don’t like being lumped together with all the other ones,” he exclaimed.

And that’s when I knew my game wasn’t quite over, but SG#1’s game was slowly taking a turn onto maple-lined, picket-fenced, Juniper Lane – and I secretly liked it.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

This plane’s circling the runway

Is it just me or does it seem like when you finally get to that point in a relationship when you’re thinking, “yeah, this might actually work out,” little tests start cropping up all over the place.

I realize normal people aren’t broadcasting their dating life over the Internet, but when you are, and when you’re counting your dates to 100, you (as in I) start to hear from men across America that perhaps you came in for a landing a little too soon.

It was a Saturday night a couple weeks ago. It had been about a week since I got to spend quality time with SG#1, and Coqueta and I were spending a quiet night cooking, eating and chatting. She started to tell me a story about a guy she heard from on an online dating site (read the whole story here: It’s a small world Part I: Internet stalkers?). Apparently he knew who she was and claimed to be an avid follower of the blog. He said he found the blog through a friend’s Facebook page, got hooked on the stories and then noticed one of the bloggers (Coqueta) had the same alias on the dating Web site he was surfing. We racked our brains to figure out who it was and it occurred to me that I had met a guy in a bar (sadly, I’m so old that it was 7 years ago now) that fit his description pretty well.

We ended up chatting over the dating Web site’s chat widget and he was shocked to find out I was the other 100 Dates blogger. And then he typed, “I’m a little disappointed you didn’t look me up in your rolodex for one of your hundred dates before settling down.”

Settling down. Had I really settled? Although completely convinced that being SG#1’s girlfriend had nothing to do with settling, and everything to do with miraculously finding someone with whom I was actually looking forward to date #3 (not to mention date #78!)…it still caught me a little off guard.

A week later, I started wondering if SG#1 remembered what I looked like after almost two weeks with nothing more than a quick “hello,” and up cropped test-a-roo number two. I received this text from a friend in Portland:
I’m hanging out with a guy I work with who knows u from your blog
…he wanted to go on a date with you. He’s our director of analytics.

I had no idea who this guy was. I had never met him, I didn’t know what he looked like and he didn’t even live in the same city as me, but for some reason – maybe the time away from SG#1 or the looming meet-the-parents-weekend up ahead – the text gave me a little twinge: had the landing gear dropped prematurely?

The next night SG#1 had planned a surprise catch-up date. As I was getting ready, I was notably nervous and pulled my typical try-on-every-outfit-in-my-closet move. Finally pulling on an acceptable shirt, I heard SG#1 knocking at the door. I anxiously unlocked the double-lock and pulled open the door and with the first site of SG#1, two weeks’ worth of doubt and senseless fretting melted through the cracks of the front deck.

The evening was absolutely what we needed: a delicious dinner at WANN, a comedy show (Mike Birbiglia at the Moore) that we almost missed from talking too long at dinner, and drinks at Amber. So, sorry to all the men out there just dying to go on a date with me (HA!! Just kidding), but it seems this plane is circling the runway, the landing gear hasn’t dropped, but the flight attendants are preparing the cabin for landing and the city lights below are sparkling with potential.