Dating Outlook

Well, needless to say, I was a little insulted –I’m no gold digger. Contrary to popular belief, I can’t be bought. It’s too bad for him it didn’t work, because I found myself divulging this information to new guy. What was I thinking? Hey, I warned you. My self-proclamation Reputation is that of a talker-too-mucher also known as, “insert-foot-in-mouther.”

Thankfully, I don’t really feel much for new guy. But it made for awkwardness when new guy in turn said I seemed to have a whole critique ready for Mr. “Drop in the Bucket� as if I had to defend my metaphorically giving him a score of four on a scale of one to ten.

Well, it wasn’t just the money bit.

It was that he doesn’t like Oprah.

It was the twelve year age gap. It was that he was the one who is older but barely acts my age.

It was that he’d ask me a question only as segue into his own new topic about himself –which, by the way is a rare talent when whatever comes out of my mouth has nothing to do with whatever was about to come out of his next. Hmm… that could easily have become an amusing game. I should have thought about this more carefully.

It was that it just was not right. Or I’m just too picky picky? Which is what I should have said to begin with – chardonnay or not.

New guy expressed concern about how I felt about him. Ugh. I get it. I don’t like to waste anyone’s time (especially my own) anymore than the next person. But, come on. Have some common sense, please.

New guy, it was you who said you’d never leave San Diego permanently. It was you who said you’d be leaving for New Zealand to pursue a master’s degree in a few months.

It is you who … I like as a friend. Sigh.

For a little over a week now, I’ve been battling with the humbling realization that I should really learn when to keep my mouth shut. I went on a date with an acquaintance that happened to be introduced to me at a happy hour a few weeks back. We had a good time, enjoyed conversation, end of story… until new guy asked his friend for my contact information. The date went well. That is, until he inquired about his friend (a previous albeit short-lived pursuer of mine) and proceeded to pry information out of me about him – what I thought of him, how the dates went, why they didn’t work, etc.

Okay, I’m a pretty honest person. However, I’d like to consider myself to be a nice person who usually, knows when to shut it…unless of course, I feel a little passionate about something and/or have had a glass a wine. Put the two together and it’s a lethal combination. Anyway, I was well into my chardonnay when I started spewing about how I didn’t like when this particular individual would talk at length about how his extended family’s estate inland of Del Mar is worth five million dollars plus and that’s just a “drop in the bucket� of their assets, money, wealth… you get the idea. I kid you not. The phrase “drop in the bucket� –I think at one point he even specified the bucket to be at least five gallons – was repeated at least three times. What is a girl to do? Be impressed? Or insulted?

The other day, I talked to my mentor for quite some time…well, she talked, I listened. When she first started dating her husband, she said that he “wasn’t even a contender.” To me, this is very interesting…because, well, they’re married. How do we go from not having any interest in someone at all to falling in love and …marrying them?

It makes me wonder if I’ve even met my next counterpart in a long-term relationship (LTR), let alone, *gulp* my future …husband…? I can barely type it without feeling anxiety build up in my chest.

I’m a commit-o-phobe, yes…but I can finally admit that I do in fact definitely want to marry someday. Not to just anyone. And of course I don’t expect perfection. But he’s going to have to be pretty damn great for me to promise forever to him. Because as scared as I am of marrying and having a family someday, I’m really more afraid of divorce.

So, I went on a date tonight…and he’s great. Handsome. Charming. Generous. and I can’t say that he’s “definitely not a contender” because I did have fun with him. He’s really cool. But it’s hard…and a tap-dance because my heart strings are being pulled a little from about 2000 miles away…this is normal right?

Maybe it’s a time thing…he did pass the “three minute” (the I was still attracted/interested after three minutes) test. Maybe I need to give it at least the “second try” thing… maybe I should just not force it (anything… just do nothing?) and see what happens?

Maybe I shouldn’t have these great expectations and just stop making excuses. Ugh.

“If he’s interested, you’ll know it. You won’t have to guess.� My dad, a hopeless romantic and rebel at heart, made sure my mom knew he was interested. He just broke off his engagement to his high school sweetheart. She was dating around having just ended a three year relationship herself. They spent the end of summer together and had a blast. Fall came and she had to go back to college, despite his attempts and pleas to make her stay.

Three months, and they knew. They knew they wanted to promise “til death,� to one another. Three months.It wasn’t until he sent two dozen roses and hitchhiked the three hour drive to her university that he finally convinced her to come back. In November, she accepted his proposal. In May, married him.

Twenty-eight years later they have me, a twenty-three year old daughter who tries to find a balance between envying and being skeptical albeit hopeful of the possibility of finding something comparable in her life.

I guess I have someone who’s “into� me. He didn’t leave me much room for guessing when he was coaching ninety miles north and would have to be there the following day…but I was leaving to head back to San Diego the next day and he wanted to see me. So he made the trip down to see me. It takes me back to Sex and the City’s Charlotte who talks about the “grand gesture� …and I because a lot of the men I’ve dated recently haven’t been into the double G thing, I like to think of his trek as a grand gesture… one that makes me not have to guess. I guess.

My personal gauges on how to tell He’s Just Not Worth it or He’s Just Not That Into You Part I and Part II

I was out with a guy friend of mine recently. At one point during the night he made a point to tag back a would-be date for Saturday night with full intention of having just the right amount of noise and women’s laughter in the background.

Call it whatever you want –ultimately, it’s a strategy.

Do you ever do this? I’m probably guilty, though I’m not much of a player in these sorts of games so much as an oblivious bystander at times… ha.

Come on, it’s clever. It’s a way to be available without being too available. It’s a way of showing interest minus the desperation factor and basically sums a guy up to showing said girl that he does in fact have a life outside of her–and has friends even!– and is fully capable of carrying on with or without her.

Smooth move my friend Here’s to you and a-hoping you get a lil sum’sum set for Saturday!

I did a little browsing on the ol’ net and was intrigued when I found “10 Ways Women Judge You,” a list, or more accurately, a do’s and don’ts guide for acing the first date and beyond if you’re a guy in search for an LTR (long term relationship) or anything longer than a weekend rodeo…

As a woman, I have to say, it’s on target with what I look for initially… check it out at 10 Ways Women Judge You

Recently, I was having a “girls night” complete with pj’s, makeup and foot scrub, when it was crashed by a bunch of guys raring to play beer pong. One of whom just so happens to be an “ex” for lack of a better word…. we were never quite official. This “ex” has an ego big enough for its own area code. This “ex” also has a girlfriend… or, ahem, apparently now the group refers to her as the (insert more derogatory term for “friend w/benefits” here… I’ll give you a hint– it rhymes with chuck fuddy).

Though a little painful (I really liked this one, okay!) …the kind of pain you feel when you’re getting blood drawn–nothing unbearable but annoying nonetheless and you’re reminded of it the rest of the day by that stupid makeshift band-aid that’s really just a piece of gauze taped to your arm hair.

Anyway, awkwardness was averted due to forced civil contact, thankfully… but I couldn’t help but notice his not-so-subtle attempts to get noticed. On not one but two–count them–TWO separate occasions I came downstairs, otherwise known as the scene of the beerpong festivities, and was obviously in search of something (first I was lookin for a couple of my galpals, another time a vacuum…it was a party, what do you expect when there are drunk people and breakables around?) and he literally stood up, made eye contact with me and said, “I’m right here…. hey. Sandy. I’m right here.”

TWICE. HE SAID THIS on TWO separate occasions…

??

I was not looking for him. Either time. Irritating… especially since this is the same guy who randomly will hit and run me on myspace just to continue in the game playing… Is he trying to see if I’ll bite? Well watch out honey, Sandy’s ’bout to get rabid…

So…there’s this phenomenon… some (and forgive my play on words, but I’m going to assume my readers can read between the lines…er outside of the “l”…) have been known to refer to it as the “clock block.”

As far as I know, I’ve never been labeled this term of endearment reserved for men and women who either very strategically (or more likely obliviously) intercept an object of desire from the throes of another’s (usually a man’s…hence the “clock”) game of seduction.

In my experience, I’ve only witnessed women do this in a very intent manner where they’re either jealous of or trying to protect their girlfriend from doing something…er someone… she may later regret.

I feel like the story is a bit different for the men. Is it a competition? A ruthless game where the seduction is the chase and proverbial foreplay rolled into one until they ultimately can claim victory and have bragging rights for the locker room?

Do you believe things happen for a reason? That there is no such thing as a coincidence?

I always thought I happen to live a rather serendipitous lifestyle…and after watching the movie “Serendipity,” I’m even more convinced. It’s a few years old and stars John Cusack and Kate Beckinsale… if you haven’t seen it, I’m sure you’ve heard of it.

Here’s a short synopsis courtesy movies.yahoo.com:

“It’s a bustling day in New York City, and amidst the usual mad rush, the paths of two strangers collide as they fall victim to a mutual, all-consuming attraction. Despite the fact that each is involved in another relationship, Jonathan and Sara bide their time, staying connected by wandering through Manhattan and talking until the wee hours, while never mentioning each other’s names. But, when the night reaches an inevitable end, the two are forced to determine the next step. When the smitten Jonathan suggests an exchange of phone numbers, Sara has a different idea in mind that will allow fate to take control of the future. If they are meant to be together, she convinces him, the universe will reveal its telltale signs. At least that’s the plan… ”

Sandy wants to hear from you! Look at that, not only is she writing in the third person, she wants to have a little experiment.

Taken people–do you believe you’re with your true soulmate? The one person in the universe that is your real complement? Have you met your match?

Single people–do you ever wonder if the person with whom you’re destined to be is someone you already know/pass by on a regular basis/is someone merely tolerating their current existence/path/lifestyle until fate takes control? Or maybe it has already………

Do you see fate working its way into your life?

Alright. I can’t take it. So much pressure! The media, hollywood, men and heck, other women create so much pressure. Maybe we put it on ourselves…I tend to stress myself out. What do men want? What do we expect out of other women?

To name a few things
we expect women to be… or should I rephrase that–
women, we expect to be…

-maternal but sexy
-feminine and girly but if a woman likes sports, she’s a needle in a haystack
-independent but not so much that she seems aloof, standoffish or like she’s a snob
-thin but not anorexic (what is this fine line? …excuse me while I just grab my BMI chart will you..thanks.)
-we’re supposed to have sex drives but don’t want to show that too soon or we’ll be labeled as “easy”
-as squeaky clean as plastic (sometimes literally…)–think Barbie, ladies- but al natural and boho
-tall with legs a mile long but then again, petite is “in”…like it’s a trend and something that people can decide like lip gloss
-to strategically take care of herself by perhaps “marrying up” but not be a golddigger…

Maybe it just goes to show that all types of men like all types of women …but jeez it can be a challenge to figure out what works. Beauty is everywhere–but it breaks my heart to see women who just can’t seem to see it in themselves and instead compare themselves incessantly to ridiculous ideals and arbitrary standards.

So I was channel-surfing today and came across a new reality show (weird…) on VH1, called “The Pick-Up Artist.”

Apparently ladies, the knack of “picking us up” is considered an art form–one of precision and which must be fine tuned to perfection for success.

The basic premise: several “40 year old virgin” types with varying degrees of (lacking) self confidence compete to become the ultimate protege (or maybe successor?) of “Mystery” the host who all-too appropriately lives up to his name in part of his scheme for “picking up.”

Is this a relatively new phenomenon or have tutors always been around to give the non-casanovas the tips, tricks and techniques to turn the head of a hottie?

This might be one to TiVo…

I’m baffled by the couples who make it work. Men and women are so different. And I know this, but it’s nights like tonight when it hits me like a MAC truck–MEN AND WOMEN ARE SO DIFFERENT. I was discussing this issue with a friend… you know who you are. Weigh in if you like.

Apparently there are different rules with “girl code” and “guy code”… from what it seems (and correct me if I’m mistaken…) where women are not allowed to date within even their girlfriends’ realm of possibilities (once a guy is spoken for, he’s off limits–forever–DUN DUN DUN!) ………………. guys are able to overlook having being “the first” to “call dibs” on women they’re interested in… ?

Did I drop the ball? Quite frankly, I don’t get it.

Is it a competition? Is this a cultural norm? Is it American? Or is this phenomenon found to be consistent around the world? Why such a vast difference? I can barely wrap my brain around it–the drama quotient is too high…

A few weeks ago, while visiting my family back in the Midwest, I went on a date with a guy who blew me away. Unfortunately my lack of impeccable timing—i.e. going on a date with him the night before I left to come back to California—forced me to try to not think too much into it. Sure, I had fun.

But I couldn’t just forget about the 2500 mile span between us… could I?

That was almost two months ago. He’s had a bit of a tough road in those two months—his dad passed away. I couldn’t bring up the nerve to call him for fear of not knowing what to say. I sent a card to wish him my condolences. Didn’t hear anything… until about a week ago…and again last night. I admit, at first I thought he was confusing me with someone else in his phone…that is, until he said I should get on a plane and come back. Now, I really like this guy.

I know what you’re thinking… Sandy’s crazy. She’s been on one date with this guy and knows little more than the fact that he’s a high school history teacher, the youngest of four and he likes strawberry shakes. And that last one doesn’t count because honestly, who doesn’t like a strawberry shake?

Two months. And I’ve hardly “known� him more than a few hours. I’ve had hangovers that lasted longer than my getting to know him time. But I can’t stop thinking about him. That counts for something, right?

So tonight I had to do something I don’t really enjoy and that is being brutally honest. To the point where I feel like I’m crossing the line just a little.

The artist formerly known as “smokey breath” continues to pursue. However, it had been a couple of weeks since his last point of contact and so his latest message was one of concern…and was even bordering on a line of defense. He was asking if he had said something horrible to offend me during our last encounter…

Now, he’s the one who works with people in relationships. He studies STDs and people’s sexual behaviors and behaviors in and out of relationships with others.

He is the one who swelled with pride about his vast knowledge in being able to manipulate the actions of others around him by merely acting or reacting in a certain way.

He was the one who was so confident in his stance that he spoke with conviction at how important it is when letting someone go, to be “consistent” with the strategy.

In my letting go of him, I chose to tell him right away how I felt–nothing–and then proceeded with silence. And I chose to be consistent.

He, in turn, continued to pursue…I decided to ignore it instead of protest for fear of leading him on…

okay, so what did he expect? Did he think I was just being coy and playing hard to get so he could conquer me in his attempt to win me over? Or is he just dense in his refusal to take my word for what I know I didn’t feel? …

It’s non-negotiable here on out. I’ve gone on too many dates/entertained the thought of seeing/had full on long-term relationships with men I just was not that attracted to. Why did I waste my (not to mention their) time when deep in my soul I knew it just wasn’t “right?� I guess I figured I shouldn’t (or couldn’t) be too picky.

“Maybe I’m passing up the right one,� I would tell myself. “Just dig a little deeper. He’s great—he’s got goals, will have a great job, you’ll be secure if you stay with him. He’ll love you and be devoted to you forever.�

But the “spark” cannot be compromised. I decided that compromising the presence of the spark would be cheating myself as well as the other person because who wants to be involved with someone who doesn’t wholly want to be with them?

Nobody’s perfect. Of course I know I’m not. But I guess in my 7+ years of dating, one conclusion I’ve come to is that in order for me to really give a guy a chance, I absolutely must be attracted to him—and not just physically, but emotionally and mentally as well. This trinity connection is crucial.

Unfortunately, the whole package only comes about once every blue moon or two years for me—whichever comes first. Of course, I’ll have a fleeting moment when I find myself lusting after some tall, dark and handsome man about town, but lose interest once his personality creeps out.

I guess I am picky. That’s okay; I’ve convinced myself I’m just making accomodations for when the right one does come along.

xx

Sandy