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

WHAT?!

…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.