They Always Come Back

For some reason, guys that I've gone on dates with in the past couple of months keep coming back. They just pop up randomly at weird times like a cracked out version of Whack-a-Mole. Case in point:

I met this guy D when I was out at Sweet and Vicious, which you might remember. We met, we hit off, I think he was tall, dark and handsome (it was a rough night). I gave him my number and he never called. Honestly I wasn't offended, I had spent the entire evening basically tell him that I thought all men were liars and there was no reason to ever get into a relationship with any of them (you can tell I was being exceptionally charming that night). Anyway, he was the only guy during that period who never called. To make myself feel better I thought that he had lost my number or maybe had to be deployed (he wasn't enlisted but it's funny the lies we'll tell ourselves).

Anyway, fast forward three months and I get this strange text. Here's the conversation that followed (all typos are intentional):

D: Hey sweety whats up. I havent heard from you. I thought you were going to call (this is a total lie because I never got his phone number)

Me: Hey...sorry super busy. What's up? (at this point I actually don't know who's texting me, but I had a funny feeling it was him)

D: Just thinking abiout what you were doing. i'm surprised you remember me

Me: Ha, funny you say that...I actually don't know who this is...

D: Lol you picked me up at sweet and viscous

Me: Which one? Jk, hey D. I actually didn't have your number

D: I'm glad you haven't lost your sense of humor. Let's meet up

Me: So we can make out and then not talk for 3 months?

D: Absolutely...jk.am I not worth the wait. Actually it took me this long to recuperate.

Me: lame

D: No but seriously i thought you were going to call me. you said no attachments. I figured this was long enough not to give you the wrong idea. lets meet up.

(I don't respond)

Truth be told, I only responded because I was at dinner with my friend L and it was HIGHLY amusing. I'm clearly not interested in him anymore, but what is it with guys making the rotation and checking in to see whether or not I'm single or if I want to meet up? Are they really all that predictable and simple?

Another example, P, one of my first dates (he's Monday) off of match.com, emailed me about 2 months later with this gem of an email:

"Hey! What have you been up to? Are you still single?"

At least he's direct. I mean, I didn't find him that interesting 4 months ago. Maybe he thought that time would dull my initial impression of him? Not likely, but you have to give the guy some credit. I personally think that he just scrolls through his phone and randomly texts/emails girls and plays the odds. If any guys can shed some light on what the conversion rate is, I'd be extremely grateful.

Lesson Learned: "Let's meet up" generally means "let's get nekkid" unless otherwise dictated.

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Would've Been Good to Know

Last week one of my friends from high school, K, came to visit (I was at brunch with him and his wife when this happened). He was in town for work and we decided to meet up on Thursday night to catch up at Brass Monkey in the Meatpacking District.  I brought the NB (new beau) along to meet the pal and to get vetted of course.

NB and K got along great, which wasn't really a surprise to me. What stunned me was what transpired next:

K: Yeah, I really like NB. He seems like a really great guy, not at all like your ex who was kind of a douche.

Me: What? You thought he was a douche? How come you never told me? That would have been GREAT to know before I spent 4 years with him.

K: I couldn't tell you that. You can't ever tell someone you don't like their significant other until AFTER they break up.

I wasn't shocked that K thought my ex was a douche. Actually, many of my friends thought that and many of those same friends told me all-too-late that the ex and I had nothing in common. So that brings up the question, do you tell your friends the truth if they're making a bad dating decision?

As much as I would like to think that I would be completely honest with a friend, it's hard to tell them that their significant other sucks...especially if your friend really likes him/her. Seriously, what would you say if you went out to dinner with your friend and his new girlfriend and she is boring/unattractive/stupid/insert bad characteristic here. And at the end of the night, your friend turns to you with his big hopeful eyes and asks, "so what do you think?". Here are your options:

A. Stabbing my eyes out would be a more entertaining option than talking to her all night.

B. I'm stupider for having listened to her talk.

C. She's great! I'm so happy for you.

D. Yeah....hey! What's that over there?

So Option C might be flat out lying and therefore a little despicable. But what's going to happen when you tell the truth? Your friend is going to either think you're jealous (women do this a lot), think you're crazy or want to stop being your friend. What your friend WON'T do is actually listen to what you have to say.

On the other hand, what if you're wrong? Your friend and the succubus end up being soul mates and get married, then you just look like a giant asshole. I guess K was right, you can't really tell your friend that his/her significant other sucks, all you can do is be there when it doesn't work out.

Lesson Learned: There's nothing hotter than drinking too much after your friend tells you that your ex is a douche and then curling up around your NB's toilet and refusing to get up off the ground....not that I would know...

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Typecasting

I used to be adamant about having a "type". More specifically over 6'2", dark hair, blue eyes, 32-37. Essentially, a taller, manlier version of Jake Gyllenhaal.  Deep down, I knew that it was silly, that I was limiting myself to the men out there. Plenty of amazing, smart, funny, handsome guys exist outside of the boundaries I had set myself. The bottom line was, I really wasn't looking very hard for someone to connect with. I would discount guys immediately if they didn't fit my "type". Looking back, it was all pretty ridiculous.

Now I'm not saying that there aren't specific traits that I find more attractive than others. Brunettes are generally more appealing to me than blonds. Hard to say where that proclivity came from, but it's there. However, I shouldn't write off someone who's blond just because of hair color, it's shallow and nonsensical and I'm probably missing out on someone who I'd otherwise really enjoy.

So why do we set these boundaries for ourselves? Probably to serve as a defense mechanism. This way, after you've whittled down potential suitors to those fitting your "type", if it doesn't work out or if you can't find someone, it's not as if you haven't tried, right? Wrong. It's often easier to play the victim and bemoan the fact that there are "no good men out there" than it is to look into yourself and search for why something isn't working. We love to be victims of circumstance and wipe our hands clean of all responsibility.

Even Sex and the City (a show that's happened to ruin an entire generation of women, more on a later post) acknowledged that Charlotte when was married to a perfect-on-paper Dr, she was miserable. Only when she got a divorce and started seeing Harry (a sweaty, short, bald divorce attorney) did she find true happiness. I'm not telling you to settle, at all. I'm just saying that if we find someone attractive, but he/she doesn't quite fit our "type", we should still try it out. What's the worst that can happen? So you have a bad date, dating experience, then you at least gave it a shot and looked outside the box.

I entirely practice what I preach. After dating several guys who fit my type to a "t" and having no luck (looked great on the outside, absolutely nothing inside), I recently started dating someone who dips a toe outside of aforementioned type. So he isn't 6'2", is under my age range, so what? He's still incredibly handsome with blue-gray eyes that I want to stupidly drown in, great style, insanely smart, etc. At the end of the day, he's someone who makes me extremely happy. He's the most selfless person that I've ever met and he's helping me trust men again.

Lesson Learned: Looks fade, dumb is forever.

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One or the Other?

One of my friends is convinced that there are essentially two types of people in NYC (maybe the world). There are the people who are happy with what they have and then there are the "bigger and better" people.  It's very easy to either spot a type or to identify yourself as one.  Here's an example:

Scenario:

You're at Chop't and you need to order some lunch. You can either get something you haven't tried before or you can order the same thing that you ALWAYS order. What do you do?

I will always order either the Cobb Sandwich or the Steakhouse Sandwich.  Why? Because I know exactly what each one tastes like and I like the way they taste.  I could get something new, but what if I don't like it? Then I'll just be mad that I didn't stick with what I usually order in the first place.  I'm so clearly the person who's happy with what she has...or am I?  You know that you should branch out and maybe try something new, but why mess with a good thing?

On the other hand, I have friends who will always order something they haven't had before, just to say that they've tried it.  They have almost a compulsive need/drive to try something new.

Now does this translate into dating? It's entirely possible.

I've bumped into the "bigger and better" people. You know the ones, they start dating someone great, but they always have an eye out for someone better: someone better on paper, taller, smarter, better looking, etc. In the end, no one's happy because you can't entirely enjoy what you have if you're convinced that someone "better" is out there. 

On the other hand, is it ok to play it so safe all the time? To expand on the Chopt example, is it better for me to try EVERYTHING on the menu is that when I settle back with the Steakhouse sandwich, I know that it's truly the one I like? I think that it all depends on how well you know yourself and how confident you are in what you like.

Lesson Learned: I refuse to have the "Grilled Asian".

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A Series of Unfortunate Events

A couple of things have happened in the past week or so that makes me think I need to go on a dating hiatus.


Exhibit 1: The lawyer (see here and here) and I went out on Tuesday and had beer and wings. I happened to be wearing an Herve Ledger dress because I'm low-maintenance like that (and because I was coming from somewhere else...more on that later, maybe). While we were gnawing on chicken bones like well-coiffed Neanderthals, he drops a bomb on me. Remember when I saw him with his on-again, off-again, it's complicated girlfriend? Well, it turns out she recognized me that night. How? Because she facebook stalked me.


The bitch in me had texted him "I'm cuter", just out of spite and because it was true ;) Apparently he decided to show her the text to "bring her down a notch". Seriously? I try to stay away from drama and that was just a little too much drama for me...from all sides. The final straw was when I checked my LinkedIn profile and she had checked me out there too! Who knows what that crazy bitch will do. It's likely that she checks out my blog too. In that case, she's a total crazy bitch (yes, I'm asking for it).


Exhibit 2: I had been seeing someone more on a regular basis than the others. What can I say about him? He's insanely attractive, cheekbones that could cut glass. His body is smokin' and our first date was amazing. We sat and talked for 4 and a half hours over coffee. Best part? We're ridiculous in bed together. I didn't necessarily blog about it because I had hoped it would turn into something...eventually.


So imagine my surprise when I receive an email saying how he feel like he's an asshole around me, that he's usually not that closed off. So his logic dictated that we should stop sleeping together and just "hang out and know each other". What the hell does that mean? Is it the brush off? Does he want to be, gasp, friends? I'll post something about the "f" word later, but basically, no one actually wants to be friends. After spiraling into the whole "what does he mean by this" phase where you talk to all your friends and get their different takes (which I HATE), I've just decided to check out. I don't want to be friends, we're not friends, we were NEVER friends and I told him as much. Needless to say, I'm still mad...and hurt.


My dad is a total asshole and we don't talk, but he did say one thing that always stuck with me: if you put your arm out in front of you and spin in a 360 degree circle, everything inside that circle you can control. Everything outside remains outside of your control. So, taking his advice, I'm just going to say I can't control how Hotness feels or acts. I'm just going to be and move on.


Exhibit 3: Had a couple of dates that went well by dating standards, good conversation, good food, interesting guy. But the bottom line was not there was no tingly feeling. You know, where you grin like an idiot and your breath gets slightly taken away when you kiss. Came away from them feeling "meh" and felt like it was at least something to do because I don't have a tv (sidebar: not having a tv is totally awesome. You should try it.)


I'm still open to going on dates and meeting up with men I'm interested in. I just think that I'm not going to be so proactive and aggressive for a while, like, a week...maybe. What do you guys think? Keep actively dating until I get a good one or just kind of chill out for a bit?

Lesson Learned: Some bitches be triflin'

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Building a Roster

Build a roster, fill a rotation, creating a starting team. Call it what you will, but when you're casually dating, you need to be filling a rotation of go-to guys. Since I'm not looking for the perfect man right now (not sure that he exists), I need to be finding a rotation of guys that when put together, make the perfect man.


Call it my little Frankenstein experiment if you want, but it's essential for me to have a couple of pokers in the fire at once (didn't mean for that to sound dirty, but it kind of does). One man can fill the looks quota, while another can fill the emotional quota. One guy can be manly and build things whereas another can be the artist. I say this is essential because it's a way for me to keep from getting attached to one person and getting a little too invested in how one person is feeling. Also, if one guy is busy (people in New York City just are, all the time), then someone else is always available.


I'm a serial monogamist, I just am. It's something about me that I want to change for a undetermined period of time. I need and want to be single and unattached, but there's that pull for me to nurture and to connect with just one person.


The need to be single stems from the fact that I want to find out what I like and find out what I ultimately want. I've felt like Julia Robert's character from Runaway Bride. There's a scene where Richard Gere asks her how she likes her eggs and she always gives a different answer depending on what her beau at the time preferred. Ultimately she quits everyone and finds out what kind of eggs SHE likes. I want time to find out what kind of eggs I like.


The system of building a roster doesn't always work, it's definitely not fool proof because inevitably you either start having feelings for someone or you sabotage any chance of having something real because you've built this wall around you.


For those of you who are keeping track, building a roster:


Pros

• Someone is always available
• Together, they make the perfect man
• Compartmentalize your interests/feelings
• Don't get too attached to one person

Cons

• You have to keep track of what stories/jokes you've told to whom
• You get names confused and have to program them into your phone by characteristics: Tall Tom, Buff Tod, etc.
• Don't get too attached to one person

I started building a roster a couple of months back, but I've pretty much wiped the slate clean to start over. There are times I just think about putting dating on hold because at the end of it all, Mr. Right(Now) just does it for me. He fulfills me on an emotional level and a physical level (even though he isn't remotely nearby). Ugh, who knows? I'm tired just thinking about it, so I think I'll stop.

Lesson Learned: I like Eggs Benedict, preferably with salmon.

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On a Scale of Pauly Shore to 10

Saw this really hot guy on the way to brunch this morning. Then saw him wearing these "shoes". He went from a 10 to Pauly Shore in 2 seconds flat. Men, let that be a lesson. P.S. I don't care how comfortable they are.

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Sweet and Vicious

There was a weekend earlier this month that turned out to be more of a shit show than weekends usually are for me.  I started Friday night with a movie at the Tribeca Film Fest, William Vincent. As I step outside to make a phone call, a cab pulls up and out hops lawyer and his "on again, off again, it's complicated" girlfriend (I didn't know about her until after the encounter and his subsequent explanation).

Seriously?  I had texted him a couple minutes earlier to see if he was there, I had noticed that he said he was going to be there that night on facebook.  He breezes past me with nothing more than a glance and a pat on the shoulder and I'm just standing there dumbfounded.  I receive a text from him a couple seconds later that read "haha, I'm sorry" and "I'll explain later".  On the one hand, I'm not sure he owed me an explanation.  I mean, at the time, I just thought he was on another date.  That's the thing about NYC and casual dating, you can see multiple people at a time.  Hell, I was doing it and it's not like we had more than one date.  I was absolutely not beholden to him nor him to me.

He emailed me the following Monday and it turns out that it is truly complicated.  I appreciated the explanation but as I told him, the relationship drama was entirely his, I just didn't want to be dragged into it.  And the bottom line was that I don't want to be lied to.  A lie of omission is still a lie (take note, people).  That and I didn't want to be fed lines. He completely understood after we hashed everything out.  Hard to say what's going to happen next.

On with the night.  My co-worker was celebrating his 23rd birthday at Sweet and Vicious down in Soho.  Yeah, I felt old.  Like, really old.  I hoofed it down to the bar and got settled in among the 23-year-olds.  I know it wasn't that long ago that I was that age, but since I shifted my dating age range to 32-37, they felt and looked like babies.  There is, however, nothing cuter than a 23-year-old trying to throw some game down on you.

Sweet and Vicious, 5 Spring St, NYC, NY (212) 334-7915

The bar was incredibly packed and I spent a good 5 minutes trying to flag a bartender down.  This slightly chubby Asian guy next to me noticed and helped me get my drink ordered.  I told him I was opening a tab and was about to give the bar my credit card when he said "don't worry about it, just remember to come back and say hi".  It was really sweet of him and I don't usually accept drinks from guys (I feel like I owe him something or he might roofie me).  Either way, it was a gentlemanly way of offering a girl a drink.  Aside from that exchange, the night was rather uneventful. Next time I expect to be paid if I'm going to be baby sitting.

Lesson Learned: Leave the drama for your mama.

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Strike One!

 (The scene of the crime)

I completely struck out last night.  Completely.  In that "oh my god, let me crawl under a rock" sort of way.  I go to Equinox, hand's down the best gym in New York.  It's clean, spacious and most importantly, filled with amazing eye candy. Amazing.  I don't go to the gym so much because I'm neurotic (I'm a little neurotic), I go because I can just spend hours ogling good-looking men pumping some iron (totally cliche, I know).

The past couple of times, I've bumped into this guy who looks like Anderson Cooper's half-Asian brother.  He rocks the glasses while he works out and always dons a pair of Adidas track pants where the material drapes just right over his glutes.  We tend to exchange glances and always pass each other just a little too closely.  There's always a moment when I think he's going to talk to me, but then nothing.  He'll suddenly turn away or just disappear.

Well, I had had enough, I was tired of this sweaty game we were playing (I mean, I love most sweaty games but definitely not this one).  I decided that yesterday was going to be the day, the day I was going to suck it up and make the first move.

The gym is a tricky place to pick up people.  You're sweaty, probably smelly and you're flushed.  On the other hand, if you're perfectly coiffed and made up, you look like you're there to pick someone up.  I haven't quite mastered the gym pick-up yet and what follows is definitely an interesting case study in it.

Half-Asian Anderson Cooper had just finished his work up and headed the direction of the locker rooms.  I quickly hopped off the elliptical (I had been there for an hour anyway) and grabbed my things.  The men's locker room is upstairs and there's a small seating area at the bottom of those stairs.  I decided to stand near the seating area and return some emails on my blackberry.  

He came down the stairs, saw me and decided to take a seat in the seating area.  I pretended not to notice and started heading towards the door.  The staircase to the exit was right behind where he was sitting, so I saw him turn around to look for me.  I had reached the landing and decided, what the hell, if he wasn't going to do anything, I was.  So I marched back upstairs and introduced myself.  Here's a short transcript of the disaster:

Me: Hi, I see you here a lot. 

Half-Asian Anderson Cooper: You do?

Me: Um, yeah...anyway, I just wanted to introduce myself (in my head, I'm screaming "red alert, bail!"

Half-Asian Anderson Cooper: Hi, nice to meet you.

Me: Ok, great. Have a good night! (oh my god, I could have DIED)

I would have stayed but it just seemed like he had never seen or even thought about me before in my ENTIRE life.  I was mortified for a brief 5 minutes and then called my best girl friend and laughed about it.  Everyone needs a swift kick in the ass sometimes.  I'm sitting here laughing while I'm thinking about it.  We're not going to bat 100 all the time and sometimes I'm going to read signals wrong.  But I'd rather go on knowing that I gave it a shot, rather than sit around and wonder what might have been.

Lesson Learned: Nothing ventured, nothing gained. And you should probably brush your hair before you try to talk to someone of the opposite sex.

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Guest Blogger: I don't like you, lox and lox

Note: This is a guest blog entry from my friend who I had dinner with last week (see To JDate or Not to JDate) She may be making a regular appearance...

I just moved to New York a couple of months ago and recently broke up with a boyfriend, so newly single me decided to try JDate. My first week, by the numbers... upwards of 800 guys have checked out my profile, 15 have sent me cheesy pick-up lines (I like you lox and lox... if a hebrew and a shebrew got together...) and anywhere from one to four will instant message me as soon as I sign on. So overall, I'd say it was a pretty successful start. 

After getting input from about a dozen friends, I posted my profile last Thursday. Before I finished putting it up, a guy sent me a message... he was pretty cute, we had a nice, funny conversation, I gave him my cell number and agreed to meet him out on Sunday night. 

We met at a tapas bar in the East Village (points for good choice), but he looked nothing like his profile picture and I walked right past him (negative points for that). We sat on a bench and ordered pitcher #1 of sangria and looked at the food menu. I suggested something with ham, then realized he might be kosher - he was (minus point for me). We drank, talked - well he talked, I listened - and finished pitcher #1. I was pretty tipsy and said didn't want anymore sangria, but was easily persuaded to drink one more glass... but, my accountant date said, it's not fiscally responsible to order just one glass, a pitcher saves money, so let's just get another pitcher. My one more glass turned into three and with every sip, he inched closer to me. He was lying on my shoulder, hand rubbing my lower back, my hands crossed firmly in front of my chest as I leaned in the opposite direction. I'm not sure where he read in my body language that I wanted to be caressed at the dinner table. I should work on my signals. We finished, he paid, we walked out. 

I started to say thanks, I had a great time, goodbye, but he insisted on walking me home. Well, points for being a gentleman I guess, so I obliged. When we got to my front door, I said goodnight again, but he said he needed to use my bathroom. Smooth move, dude. I wasn't going to make him pee in an alley, so I begrudgingly let him upstairs. He came out of the bathroom, flung himself onto my face and kissed me. It was more of a full face slobber than anything and after I pushed him towards the door, he said, I am definitely going to see you again. I am not going to see him again. 

Lesson(s) Learned: So many... In online dating, don't go out with the first person who messages you... Photos can be deceiving... Don't let a guy walk you home if you're not interested in him. 

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To JDate or Not to JDate...

I was at dinner at Frank with a girlfriend of mine about a week ago.  She's kind of in the same place I am, just moved to NYC for a better job and she just broke up with her boyfriend of a couple of years.  She's fantastic, smart, funny, down to earth, just a really great person to hang out with.  Her situation is different from mine in that her relationship ended because she was just not that enthused by the person she was with.

After hearing about my mostly (mis)adventures with a dating website, she decided that she would do the same thing, just on JDate rather than Match.com.  I think most people are pretty familiar with JDate but to those who aren't, JDate is a dating site that mostly attracts people of the Jewish faith...or people who would like to date a Jew.  My friend is Jewish and she's always said that finding someone from the same faith is extremely important to her.

After helping her with her profile (for most people it's hard to self-pimp, not so much for me because of my healthy dose of narcissism ;)), she posted it and has been on the site for about a week.  I think that the dating websites are extremely helpful in meeting new people, especially for those of us coming out of a relationship.  After all, when was the last time you met someone you actually liked (or could hear) at a bar? Also, it's much easier to deal with rejection when it's not done face-to-face but rather in the form of an ignored email or "wink".

For me, I think it's interesting to see what these people write, what they deem important enough to share and whether or not they are able to put a coherent sentence together.  That combined with pictures (some with obvious boobalicious women photoshopped out) make for a pretty complete profile of someone.

Now don't get me wrong, there's a lot of false advertisement on these dating sites.  You can remember the time I wanted to chew my arm off at a hockey game (see here).  But hey, at least you're checking these people out sober, rather than with half a dozen drinks under your belt in dim lighting.

I'm excited to see how things go for her.  I think her experience will be different from mine.  She's much sweeter than I am and is going into this with a much more trusting and open mindset than I did. 

As for Frank Restaurant (88 2nd Ave, NYC (212) 420-0202), the food was amazing.  It's a small Italian restaurant that features homemade pastas (new specials everyday) and a mouth-watering wine list.  I had the butternut squash ravioli and my friend had the Rigatoni al Ragu.  Mine was delicious but I'm pretty sure I ate all the meatballs out of hers, lol.  Anyway, if you find yourself in the East Village, check it out.  Just remember to bring cash.  Check the menu here.

Lesson Learned: Men may come and go, but your friends will always be there to help pimp you out.

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Don't Talk to Me Until After I Eat..Maybe Not Then Either

I work in the middle of Times Square, which is pretty ridiculous.  It's basically a shit show every day of the week and let's be frank, tourists are some of the most annoying people in the world.  So because I hate leaving the office, I go to our cafeteria upstairs most mornings for breakfast.

Early mornings are spent with my trainer or at the gym, so I'm usually starving by the time I get to work.  This morning, I get in line to make my own omelet, the usual (spinach, broccoli, turkey and feta with egg whites) and this dude starts talking to me.  Straight off I knew he wasn't my type and I just wasn't in the mood to chat. 

He starts joking with the omelet guy about how he should run for Mayor and I could be his Vice President.  I quickly correct him about the fact that Mayors don't have Vice Presidents and he fucking keeps talking to me! On top of that, he kept touching me on the arm.  Here's one thing to keep in mind, don't touch me.  If you're a stranger and not hot, then don't touch me.  I actually get very irritated by it, it's hard to explain. This is how our conversation goes:

Him: So you're pretty up on your politics (based on the fact that I knew mayors don't have Vice Presidents, asshole)

Me: Yeah, I was in DC for a while

Him: So, you're a lawyer? You look like you have great style (I do, but what does that have anything to do with anything?)

Me: Thanks

Him: You've got that sexy librarian thing going on

Me: I need to get some toast

Anyway, I excuse myself and when I get back, I stand off to the side and do that thing where you pretend to text/email so you don't have to talk to people.  Then, this mfer walks back up to me and here's the conversation that transpired:

Him: How are you supposed to call me if you don't have my number.

Me: I'm not going to call you.

Him: Can't blame a guy for trying. God, I have a lot of meetings today.

Me: Great

I'm definitely not a rude person but sometimes men are just so dumb! Ugh and also, don't talk to me until I've eaten something.  Thanks.

Lesson Learned: Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind

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International House of Men

One of my best friends came to town this past weekend.  Her boyfriend is graduating from B-School here in New York and his fellow classmates were having a party on the Upper West Side.  I got off at the wrong subway stop and ended up wandering about a mile in Harlem, wearing a short dress, stilettos and my Gucci purse.  I knew I was going the wrong way when I passed the Apollo...TWICE.


Honestly, if it wasn't for google maps on my blackberry, I'd never get anywhere. Thank you technology gods.  After trekking to her boyfriend's place first and chugging a gin and tonic (any girl would need one after an ordeal like that), we were off. 


First, the apartment is gorgeous.  Two floors with a balcony off each bedroom.  Fantastic views with amazing space and happens to be occupied by three Italian men.  I think that most of the students happened to be international.  Just imagine an apartment full of hot European men.  I've seen places like this in my dreams.  Except that in my dreams, none of the guys would have girlfriends.  I think a lot of the guys there didn't have significant others, but the problem was that out of the three men who approached me and chatted me up, they ALL had girlfriends.


Exhibit 1: Swiss B-School student.  Brown hair, olive skin, brown eyes.  Probably about 6' tall, slight accent.  Definitely my type.  We talked about London (his favorite city and where I'm headed in a month) and New York in general.  I started to ask him how he found dating in NYC when he dropped the G-bomb.  Next!
Exhibit 2: Italian B-School student. Same thing, brown hair, olive skin, brown eyes.  This time he's about 6'4", love it!  Very heavy Italian accent.  I knew fairly early on that he had a girlfriend, but he was a friend of a friend so I was happy chatting with him anyway.  He was super interesting, we joked about him marrying someone just for the visa (which one of my friends did, btw).  However, it was going nowhere, quickly.  Then...
Exhibit 3: American, Harvard Medical resident. Same build and look as the others, probably about 6'2".  Not sure what we talked about at that point because I was getting a little tanked on gin and tonics (drink of choice) and probably some awesome beer like PBR.  Anyway, he offered to introduce me to his brother, meh.


I bring these guys up because I don't get them.  They were clearly flirting with me and one even brought up "would you ever be with someone who had a girlfriend" and "I don't believe in monogamy".  Seriously guys?  After coming off of what I just went through, I just couldn't believe what I was hearing.


Naturally I discussed this with my co-worker (who happens to look like a young Hugh Grant, swoon), and he said this to say: men with girlfriends are more likely to talk to me because they have nothing to lose.  In the end, they can flirt with me and be confident that if I reject him, it's because he has a girlfriend.  Hugh also said that I'm probably different from the girlfriends and that's intriguing (I guess).  Single guys, on the other hand, are probably a little intimidated by me (I find this to be true).


Lesson Learned: Men are dogs. Wonderful, sexy, intriguing dogs.

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I Like to Wear My Ovaries on the Outside

Sundays = brunch days.  Last Sunday, I met up with my married friends (I only have one set, so it's easy to identify them as such) at Craftbar for brunch.  I'm a total Tom Colicchio fan so it was definitely a treat.  We decided to meet at the restaurant at 10:30AM (they have a kid so apparently you eat earlier).  I was the first to arrive and the restaurant was fairly empty.  In fact, we were one of three occupied tables there.


I arrived before my friends did and decided to do a visual sweep of the place.  Saw a very good-looking guy about 3 tables away who was with two male friends.  A couple of back and forth glances between us and I had made up my mind.  Forgetting my business cards at home, I asked our waitress for one of theirs.  I scribbled my name, cell number and "Let's grab a drink sometime" on the back of the card and asked their waiter to take it to the man I had my eye on.  Now I typically do not make a habit out of this and it was actually the first time I've ever done something like that. But seriously, what do I have to lose?


Apparently the timing was good because shortly after the waiter gave attractive man my card (side note, loved that he was in such good shape that you could see the muscles shift under his knit shirt), he was paying the check and headed out the door.  We exchanged smiles as he approached my table and introduced himself.  He thanked me for the card and said he'd "definitely be in touch".  I have to say, I liked the way his hand felt when he shook mine.


Fast forward a week later and he hasn't called.  He might have lost the card or he might have been kind in front of my friends, hard to say.  Either way, this was more of proving something to myself rather than feeling up on his abs (which wouldn't have been so bad either...)


Lesson Learned: If you're going to give out your number, write it on something he's not likely to lose, like the Yankees schedule or a $20 bill.

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End of the Match Experiment

I decided not to renew my Match.com membership this month.  The whole experience was a little overwhelming in truth and it was often times just a cluster fuck.  Over the period of 30 days, I received about 10 emails a day on average.  Some were clearly cut and paste jobs and others were quite thoughtful and charming...until you looked at the picture.  That's the sad part, you think you can be above the whole superficial aspect of attraction.  I'm here to say that you can't.  Even if I don't want to have babies, I'm still going to look for the best looking person so that I can have beautiful half-Asian babies.  You all saw what happened with Rob Schneider.  Lord help me if I'm going to make that same genetic mistake.

I went on my second to last Match date last Sunday night at a bar at the bottom of my apartment building.  He's British, dark hair, brown eyes, probably only about 5'10" (I let him squeak by due to the accent).  We talked for a couple of hours over some beers.  When we drained the rest of the first beer, I offered to buy the next round and to say that he was blown away is certainly an understatement.  Ladies, I know it's nice to have men pay for drinks, buy dinner, win a teddy bear, etc. But if we are making the argument that we're equals, then it's time to chip in for a beer or two.  I'm just putting it out there.

As the night winded down, I became a little intoxicated (mostly by the beer and a little by the accent).  I'm not sure I was entirely attracted to him.  Don't get me wrong, he was very handsome...but a little petite for my tastes (I'm sure any man would love to be described as "petite").  Throwing all caution to the wind, I kissed him good night.  And then...nothing.  I felt absolutely nothing.  I guess that means we're kicking that one to the curb.

I always feel a little badly when I meet someone for drinks (with the romantic subtext) and I feel nothing.  That's in part because I'm still hurting a little from the breakup.  I hate it when I say that I'm not completely over it yet and people assume that I mean I'm not over him.  That's completely inaccurate because I'm over him as in I-would-like-to-run-OVER-him-with-a-environmentally-unfriendly-car.  I guess it takes time when you try to recover from being completely humiliated with sightings of him around town with other women, while you're at home with the laundry and the dog.

Don't get me wrong, I have had genuine feelings for men post-AH (asshole).  Those feelings (and the men's identities) will remain private, however.  I'm sorry to disappoint but there are some things that should be considered sacred and that should be held close to the vest.

Lesson learned: Internet dating is EXACTLY like internet shopping for clothing.  Sometimes it looks better in the picture and if it doesn't fit, you can always return it.

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Putting Out the Fire

I just realized that I never wrote about the sex maniac, dirty texting firefighter I met. The most logical place to start would be the beginning, so that's where I'm going to begin. I came up to NYC the first week of February, looking for a place to live. After perusing through craigslist obsessively for days, I picked about 15 places to look at. From there, I narrowed it down to 6 and came up for the day to look at all of them.

The first place I looked at was in Hell's Kitchen. It wasn't exactly the neighborhood I wanted to be in, but hell, it was a 7 minute walk to work. I get to the apartment with my gay husband in tow and this 6'3" dark hair, *big* guy opens the door. Now I kind of have a type: tall, dark and handsome. It's cliche but it works for me.

It turns out this guy who's moving out and renting the apartment is a firefighter. I guess the New York City Firefighter is hot commodity and kind of a notch on the bedpost. I was intrigued but I had to pass on the place. It was small, dark and smelly (which I know is what most people expect from a New York City apartment). Anyhow, about two weeks pass and firefighter emails me the week before I'm due to move up. I think the best way to relay what happened next is by posting our email exchange:

"heyy, did you ever find a place?"

"Yup. Very excited, I move up next weekend! Did you find someone to take over your lease?"

"Nice congrats. Yes I did. Let's get together when you get settled in"

"Sounds great. I'll give you a shout when I'm up."

"Ok. We'll have fun ;-)" (I guess this sounds a little ominous?)

--few more flirty emails....and then...--

"What's you cell # so we can text dirty stuff" (wtf, seriously?)

"Lol, what makes you think I'm up for that? Btw, you already have my cell." (me, trying to play it off and see if he's serious)

"Went out on a limb there." (next time you go out on a limb, try to go out REALLY far so that you fall off)

So then he texts me and tells me he's "a sexual person". Yeah, you have a dick, no shit you're a sexual person. Then he proceeds to tell me that he likes to have sex in public. Seriously, we haven't gone out and you're propositioning me to have sex with you in public? Good lord.

I pretty much ignore him, but once in a while he'll text me something like "are you out?" That's code for "are you drunk enough to make bad decisions?" He followed up with this last night "how come you don't text back"?

Clearly he's not the sharpest tool in the box.

Lesson learned: Men are sexual people

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(Mis)Matched: Part II

I know I alluded to the fact that I had three dates in three days. In truth, it was really 2.5 dates, a booty call and another date in 6 days. Two guys were great and the other was my idea of a living nightmare. I guess I should start chronologically:

Date 1: Monday

Blonde hair, blue eyes, 6'2" attorney, age 33. Extremely well-dressed, very handsome. We went to a bar in the East Village. I wore an extremely tight black dress, I think I pulled something while sucking it in the whole night. Wore my peep toe Louboutins (courtesy of my ex-boyfriend, that s.o.b.).

We had a couple of drinks, good conversation, typical nervousness at the beginning. Ended up near the West Village at another bar and ended in a brief make-out session at his place. Will I call him again? Not likely. Mainly because he wants to go to a sex club and partly because I find attorneys a little stiff and not in the good way....next!

Date 2: Tuesday

Brown hair, brown eyes 5'9" (I'll explain), graphic designer, age 37. I wore a black and white work dress, flats (knowing he'd be the size of a Keebler elf). I stupidly invited him to a Rangers game after a great conversation on Sunday night. We were originally supposed to get drinks on Thursday, but in a moment of impulsiveness, I gave him my extra ticket to the Rangers game at Madison Square Garden.

He had advertised himself as being 5'9" but when I met him at Borders, he was really 5'7" and looked MUCH older than his advertised age of 37. Hard living if I ever saw it. His email to me was nice and he had admitted that he was a little shorter and a little older than I was looking for. I thought I was being open-minded...well, never again! I knew the moment I met him that I wasn't going to like this date. After hours of his chewing with his mouth open, nose-blowing and general complaining that hockey's a violent sport (no shit, that's why I like it); I thought about excusing myself to go the bathroom and never come back (a lesson I learned from a special someone ;)).

Even though every cell in my body was screaming at me to leave, I didn't. I'm just not that mean. I admit that it's a little narcissistic to think that he would have been crushed. I guess some men need a sledge hammer to get the message through. The whole night he kept trying to lean towards my side and I kept leaning away from him. It must have looked hilarious to the people sitting behind us.

I soldiered through and dare I say that I'm a stronger person because of it? Maybe. Either way, I promptly lost his number after I sprinted to the cab.

Day 3: Wednesday (St. Patrick's Day)

Brown hair, brown eyes, 5'11", consultant, 29. I wore skinny jeans, python flats and a tight gray shirt. Possibly the sweetest guy you will ever meet. A perfect gentleman, handsome but maybe not enough of an edge for me? I met up with him and his roommates around 11PM. I had just gotten home from my Wednesday night tradition with my gay husband and M mentioned he'd be around my neighborhood.

We had some chicken wings and some beer and it was great. Walked me home and offered me his coat. Made plans for brunch on Sunday.

Part III: booty call and then some...

Lesson Learned: always carry some roofies in case your date sucks. Roofie the shit out of him and then take a cab home. Buy yourself something nice the next day to wash away the painful memories.

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(Mis)Matched-Part I

"You need to screw your way out of this", this is the sound advice I've received from most of my friends regarding dealing with post-breakup. Even though I think I would have heeded this advice years ago, I've just found that I haven't felt like dealing with dating in general and with men specifically. That being said, last Sunday, I woke up a little hungover and decided to sign up on Match.com.

My rationale for signing up for Match was that I enjoy online shopping. So if I do it with clothing, why not with men? The experience with Match for me has been like trying to find a Chanel suit in a T.J. Maxx. I've also equated it with the employees at the Abercrombie Outlets: they're good-looking, but not as good-looking as the regular Abercrombie workers and they're as irregular as the outlet clothing they sell.

Lots of my friends have used the service and I'm not knocking that, but I've just been a little overwhelmed with the whole experience. It's like being hit on by mostly men you would never be interested in dating/grabbing drinks with/making eye contact with. To date, I've received 79 emails, 70 winks (totally non-committal) and 76 "he's interested" (absolutely non-committal).

To get a sense of what I'll be talking about, I'm posting a choice selection of emails I've received:

"What a great profile, very funny. I think we have a lot in common. I hope to hear back from you." (Fine, whatever. Why don't you tell me what we have in common?)

Excerpt: "In general, I'm looking to meet someone who might enjoy exploring NYC, who likes to laugh and likes to think, and who enjoys being challenged and learning new things. I admit straight up that I'm only 5'6'', but that's one of the least important things about me. If you think we might have some things in common, it would be fun to have a chance to talk (maybe over tea/coffee or something). You can tell me all the reasons why Chicago is or is not better than NYC. " (Ok great, but what part of over 6' tall did you not understand?)

"emailed u before. i just realized i only have membserhip until this wknd. i hop e to hear from you because i really want to meet you. my personal email isXXXX@XXX.com whats yours?" (Um, if I didn't email you back, it's because I didn't feel like it. I don't care about your damn membership)

I state pretty clearly in my profile that I'm "not looking for a soulmate here, there or anywhere." And to highlight that fact, here's the one of the 5 emails I've written back on Match.com:

"You're tall, hot and funny. Want to grab a drink sometime"

It turns out that he does want to grab a drink, we'll see.

Part II: Three dates in three days...

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Moved and Parallel Parked

So I moved up two Sundays ago. My friend and I were supposed to drive up to NYC in the UHaul van together, but then she got the plague right before we were supposed to drive up. So, I did the move and the drive all by myself. I "borrowed" my ex's ipod car thingy and made for the open road.

I have to say, the drive was both therapeutic and invigorating. I felt completely self-reliant, independent and proud. It was nice to have no one else but myself to truly count on. At the end of the day, it was a blessing that I did the move alone. I think that when you've been in a relationship for a long time, it's easy to have someone help you do things or to even delegate the task to your partner, lol. It's really when you're faced with a challenge yourself that you know what you're made of.

The drive was painless until I got to the Holland Tunnel. That was sh*ttastic. After PARALLEL PARKING the UHaul on a New York side street, I went out with an old roommate who was in town.

She just got her boobs done and they looked amazing! I was jealous for half a second and then realized I didn't have $7,000 to spend on funbags. We went to the Mexican restaurant over in the Lower East Side and just had margaritas with the girls...and a this girl's boyfriend, who I was pretty sure was gay.

After that, I went to a totally inadvertently Jersey Shore-themed party at Crimson. I swear, gorilla juiceheads abound at that place! After paying a totally ridiculous $20 cover charge, the night got underway....or so I thought. It was good seeing friends from out-of-town but to be honest, I really wasn't feeling it. I think it was partly due to the recent breakup and partly due to the fact that I was a little hung up on someone I had been talking to for the past month.

Anyhow, I went home...alone.

Lesson Learned: Learn to count on yourself if nothing else...and if you're going to get implants, always go bigger than you think.

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