Depressed

So this past Thursday I met my ex (the one from right before the last one), the one who I really loved and had a kind of passionate love affair with, and who turned out to be really evil, told me he is engaged. Despite his truly despicable behavior, I really never stopped caring about him. It's hard to let people go even though you know you should. I had a few opportunities to start really dating him again after we broke up, but although my mind wanted to get back together with him, my body really didn't...it would revolt and start shaking until I stopped talking to him for a few months. And yet, despite this, I still feel positively sick over the fact that he is getting married. I guess I always thought he was too fucked up and too awful to be able to make it work with anyone and somehow I feel like I failed because he wasn't willing to make it work with me.

The back story to this is that many years ago I met M. and I fell instantly in love with him. Love at first sight. He had a girlfriend at the time, but we started hanging out. And then we started kissing. A lot. Everywhere. And I thought he was too good to be true, and we would never be together. But then he broke up with his girlfriend and we started going out and I was blissfully happy. I was also often drunk because he was drunk all the time, but I just loved being with him. He made me feel beautiful and special and I had never been more physically attracted to anyone in my life. One day I noticed that women that I didn't know were posting on his facebook account, and I asked him point blank if anything was up with any of them. He said absolutely not. And I believed him. Then, one night after we had been dating a year, we both went out and got really drunk. We went back to his place and he fell in and out of sleep on the living room chair and I sat at his desk similarly falling in and out of sleep. Then I thought I would read his notebook. I had been told that it was his writing notebook (he wants to be a writer) and that I was not allowed, but I thought...well, I want to see and he's right there 4 feet away so maybe it's okay. This is how people think when they are smashed. And so I opened it up (he kept it on the top of his desk in plain sight and I'd never looked at it). The first line of the first page said something like "I slept with S. again last night" I looked at the date and it was from 6 months ago...long after we had been together. S. was his ex who he had broken up with. I turned the pages..."Slept with Z. last night" it said. I started paging through frantically...name upon name kept popping up. I couldn't focus through my drunken haze, but I knew this wasn't right. I was trying to count names. I took the notebook into the bathroom to try to focus on it. It said things like "I hope Calliope doesn't find out...but I can't stop." The last entry of sleeping with someone was from just the weekend before and there was even one from the night before valentine's day. My heart broke.

I went into the living room and woke him up. "Have you been cheating on me?" I said.

"No. of course not. let's go to sleep," he said.

"I know you have!" I yelled." "i read this!!" I held up the notebook.

All of a sudden he went from asleep to wide awake. He picked me up by my dress and threw me to the floor. I screamed and he picked me up by my dress again and it ripped off. The bra ripped too. "you read it?!" he was yelling. He picked me up again and thew me against the wall. I slumped to the ground and started crying. He grabbed me by my hair and started trying to throw me against the wall or into the ground. "Get the fuck out my apartment!" he was screaming. He dragged me into the next room and the whole time I was screaming "please stop hurting me, please please!" finally he let go and there were chunks of hair all over me. I was sobbing. And not because I was hurt and bruised all over. Because I knew that was the end. That was the absolute end of our relationship. No matter what we would never be able to really be together because it was just over. he was a liar, a cheater, and now an abuser. no matter what, that was the final moment and that finality was devastating. there had been no warning, no slow let down, no discussion, just wham! 10 minutes. done. someone called the police. I was asked if I wanted to file a report. I didn't. I wish I had, but I hadn't had any time to process what was happening, I still wasn't even sober. We stayed together for a short while, but all I did was cry. I felt disgusted and violated but also so profoundly disappointed. So deeply sad. The one man I had ever really felt this way about and he was a perpetrator of domestic violence? someone who I could never trust? Even now it is hard to think about. I keep wishing it had never happened, that he had never cheated, that we were still passionate about each other. But he did and he did and we aren't and now he is in love with a girl 3 years younger than me who he claims to have changed for. I don't know how to feel about it, I just feel sad. 3 months ago we had gotten drunk and ended up making out but then he said he felt bad about cheating, and for some reason I just broke down because I felt like he was my great love and I had always loved him and he hadn't minded hurting me and now he suddenly minded hurting someone else? I was depressed for a week...deeply depressed. Sick depressed. I wanted to die. I stopped talking to him. Then he called me in the middle of the night from a taxi wanting to hook up...I said I was asleep. I was not. All I wanted to do was to have him come over, but my body would have revolted again. I wish I didn't still love him. I wish he were miserable.

Speed-dating part deux

Like the Naked Gun Part Deux, but not.

Sunday night K. and I headed to speed-dating, which costs $30 per person. Um or not, as one guy told me "They're always trying to get guys to sign up, so I go for free a lot." So, basically if I went enough I'd probably see the same 40 guys over and over. Fantastic. I even got assigned to sit in the same exact seat I'd sat in last time, totally by accident. All was going along like a carrousel, guys getting up and moving from woman to woman.

For those who haven't speed-dated, it is a less than horrible, but also less than enjoyable way to spend one's evening. If you want to find someone to go out with in New York, these are the kinds of activities that you have to resign yourself to. That and house parties of people you don't know. House party with people you don't know when you're 20? Awesome!! Well, if you were me and 20 the answer would be "um, okay. Sounds okay." and it would be okay. House party'o'strangers when you're in your 30s? Exhausting. It's like Liz Lemon says (paraphrased): "all the nodding, and talking, and naming of siblings, and for what? you have to have sex. I just want to skip ahead to when we've been dating ten years." I don't know about most women, but this comment struck me as genius.

~~~~waving lines, time warping us back to this past friday~~~~

when K. and I attended just such a house party in Carroll Gardens, a mere hour an a half from when I live WHEN THE TRAINS ARE WORKING, and they weren't. House party was not half bad: people were friendly, there were delicious chocolate chip cookies, there were strange vegetable kabobs with four different types of vegetables on each one, the second veggie of which was disgusting and totally unidentifiable by everyone there (except of course for the bringer of said nasty veggie kabobs, who dared not reveal him or herself). The host was cheerful and having moved from cali a mere week beforehand managed to get about 50 people to show up at his housewarming. Clearly, the man is connected, as I have lived in the big apple for 10 years and am concerned about whether 10 people will show up to my upcoming bday party. Anyhow, K. was wonderful for inviting me, and we mutually agreed that if you want to meet someone you're going to have to endure such parties and learn to navigate their very testy waters.

Host was cute, but was wearing TERRIBLE white button-down shirt with strange pattern. These things must be de rigeur on the west coast, but bespeak newcomerness. But sartorial judgments should not be passed: Wear what ye will. Hoping he might like K. as they would be a cute couple.

We got introduced to a couple of people. A girl asked if we were fellow singletons, and we nodded. She said there were a lot of single guys there (really?) including the guy that K. found attractive to her right (let's call him Dabbler). She then raised her large plastic drink cup and mouthed "he's a player". Thank you for the warning, good Miss. I wish more people would tell me these things. Although...back in 2000 I was warned by Midtown Girl that a guy was a player, but NO, I went right out with him. Bad move. This time, I'm listening.

Dabbler, who mentioned that he is interested in getting a phd "or something" asked if he could guess our professions. For me, true story, he says: "You're not an actress, I can tell that. Hmm, you turn the letters for a game show." Great, I'm vanna white (who, as an aside, has not aged in 20 years, it's freaky). As for K? "Congressional aide." What's this man going off of? hair color.

He walks away.

Cut to: K and I standing in the doorway. I want to be a wing-girl for her, but I can stand it no longer and confess "I'm exhausted." "Thank goodness!" she says, let's get out of here. We cab it back to our boroughs.

~~~~~~~wavy lines, back to the near past and original story....speed-dating~~~~~

In speed-dating, for those who don't know, you get a name tag and you have to write down each person's name in a booklet so you can remember them. I dutifully write down each person's name as he comes by, looking at and pronouncing his name. Then comes "Will" only I see the name tag and the "l"s are curled under, so it looks like someone wrote a hasty "u" not connecting the bottom of the letter. "Wiu?" I say. He looks at me like I'm nuts. I look at his nametag again, "Wu?"

"This is not happening," he says.

"Oh my god! You're name's Will! So sorry," (I wear contacts, but they are the wrong prescription, so it makes it hard to read things anyway).

I must add that the man is asian.

"Wow," he says, "this is totally not going to work out."

I turned bright red, it was a totally honest mistake, I SWEAR I thought it said Wiu even before I looked at him, you only have two minutes so you have to write down the name fast and then shake hands and talk.

I felt so embarrassed.

Fortunately, he came over during the break to say hi and have a further conversation, but I was so mortified I didn't "pick" him when it came time to enter our choices.

Then, I see K. talking to MD (a doctor). My god! That guy was at the last one and I could tell he really liked me and now I'm going to have to see him and he obviously knows I didn't pick him. I wave K. frantically over. She hasn't met anyone she likes so far either.

Bell rings and we're back in class, session 2. MD comes over, "you know, I thought about you after the last speed dating." oh no!

Anyhow, MD is a super smart Indian doctor who went to harvard and seems very nice (the opposite of who I go out with generally: usually I prefer alcoholics who treat me like crap). Um, so I picked him when the choice time came, why not? He's not bad looking and maybe he'll be more interesting than I thought. So, I'll keep everyone posted on that...

Enforced vacation

So, unfortunately, I will be MIA for the next few weeks as I have a personal matter to attend to. No dates will be occurring, I will say that my First Boyfriend (FB) from high school is being super nice and calling me, but we have no interest in each other. My parents think we are going to get married because we have known each other since we were 15 and clearly if we are still communicating we must be in love. This is absolutely, 100% delusional. He has told me he'd rather die alone that marry me and I feel similarly. Otherwise, he would be the the perfect boyfriend/husband: handsome, super intelligent, good job, very kind, not a cheater, thinks I'm gorgeous. Why do I not like this guy?!

Interlude (date 15): royalty

So tomorrow I have a "young alumni" event. Ugh. Not sure I can make it due to some other things I care not to discuss. Still, I feel like I should go. I also want to see my friend S. I'll have to see how I feel tomorrow.

Also, a prelude. Before this "bloject" started I had had I date about two days before, so I didn't count it (rules are rules, even if we don't seem to be able to follow them, we're all trying). Anyway, I met him at a speed dating event (same one where I met "the intellectual"). He is pretty cute, and seems smart. British as well. I like British men generally. They tend to treat women very well. Has a new job that requires him to work a LOT. Anyway, we had various things in common so we "picked" each other at the speed dating event. For our date he invited me to little bar near nyu. Nice, been there before...a little small, and a little open. Bought me a glass of wine (ah, classy!) and then since the space was a little open we headed to a more "posh" place down the street. There I had two glasses of chardonnay and we shared a bunch of tasty appetizers (I hadn't eaten, he paid). We talked and I actually succumbed to doing something I've never really done before: gotten purposefully drunk so that I could just talk and not think about things much, you know grease the social wheels. I have always thought this was a detestable thing to do, but I was feeling sad about my recent ex and thought, I better just make this a little easier on myself.

Anyhow, it worked. I even tried "flirting". I can really easily flirt with people I like, but usually I get to know them and THEN I flirt. But when you're "dating" you kind of have to throw in some flirt-moves without being sure if you're actually really attracted to the person. Anyway, that worked, too. Like I said, he's pretty cute, so it wasn't hard, it's just that I really am attracted to personality more than looks (with one serious exception: my Evil Ex, a story for another time). The conversation was not bad and he asked me a lot about myself and what I did and what I was interested in. Fascinatingly, his father is a major player in my field of study, so he's kind of higher-education royalty. Interestingly again, he has entirely revolted against his liberal, doctorate-toting, book-publishing father and gone entirely in the other direction, except I think he's still pretty liberal (phew).

A few things were sort of red flags. I'm trying to take note of these things early because I have noticed that when I break up with someone it often is for some reason that I could have easily discerned early on. So here is the red flag list:

1) he said he was lazy. Now, is this posturing, trying to seem cool, or is he actually lazy? Laziness is not a good quality.

2) he detests england. who detests england?!

3) he mentioned his ex about 3 times. apologized for it, but.....

4) he mentioned that he was well-off and had a nice apt central manhattan. is this just stating the facts and trying to get me to like him and he's a bit insecure OR is he arrogant? Arrogance is a TERRIBLE quality.

Okay, that's it.

On the white flag list:

1) cute

2) nice

3) gentlemanly (walked me to subway, paid for food)

4) reads a lot

5) seems all-around good. as midtown girl said (she met him at the speed dating event): "I think he's a catch!" possibly.

Soooo, long story short, he emailed after the date saying that he went to an art show that I had recommended and he liked it and then we could see each other or not. my choice. Um, strange...didn't know what to do with that, so I said, "we can do something if you'd like" then he went away, I was busy, he was busy, I went away, but we exchanged some emails and yesterday he said he really wants to do something, but probably not this week because he is, well, busy. I actually believe him because he job is at a startup company and also he really could have dropped the whole things by now. No need for endless emails...boring. SO, the summation of this story is that I will definitely go out with him again IF we can both manage to find time. Maybe midtown girl is right!

Date 14: The networking event

Went to an alumni mixer tonight. Well, an alumni "networking" event. What is it that people have in common with other people who went to their school? I don't know, the likelihood of me meeting someone in my profession is slim, like infrathin, but nevertheless, I was fearless and went head on in. So, I'm going to count this as a date because alumni events are ipso facto dating events if you are single. Was that the right usage of "ipso facto"? not sure, but I've always wanted to use it in text. Also, it counts as a date because I got all dressed up and even curled my hair and wore my sticky lipgloss. Anytime I deviate from my regimen of studying, working, and eating, to go out and try to meet a guy, it counts as a date. Per usual, the entire way there I kept thinking to myself "I really don't want to do this. I really don't. I'd rather be at home. Home is so much better than this! I can study and watch tv simultaneously!" So I pretty much dragged myself to it.

Anyway, I did meet three lovely men. One of the men was from Tokyo and did not speak English that well, at least pronunciation-wise but was quite nice otherwise...is doing a phd in neuroscience. impressive. I approve. The second guy was swiss and also spoke very poor english, I wanted to attempt to speak french to him (his native language) but I didn't want to risk doing an even worse job with his language than he was doing with mine. anyways, he was very cute and is doing a phd in chemical engineering at the same prestigious university that my "intellectual" date teaches at. very impressive. i approve. the third guy was british and is a lawyer. I thought he was pretty nice, although when another girl (one of the two I met) came by he quickly moved from speaking to me to speaking to her, leaving me, not holding the chicken, but a plate of cold tortellini. I awkwardly spooned seafood salad (ew) onto my plate (always be doing something, regardless of whether you end up with a plate of octopus [side note: never eat octopus, they are smarter than your dog]), and then introduced myself to some other people. why not? Gave all involved my business card. the lawyer on his way out insisted we go for hot chocolate some time. I approve. Let's see if he follows through. None of these people sparked with me though. got caught in terrible downpour on the way to the subway.

Interestingly, when I got off the subway, my giant giant umbrella broke so that the handle extended really far as I was walking, so basically the umbrella handle became about 5 feet long...don't ask how this occurred I have no idea. As I was walking, the handle suddenly extended almost tripping the guy behind me, except instead of being annoyed like a typical new yorker, as I was apologizing profusely I looked up and there is this gorgeous blond tall skinny guy with glasses cracking up. He says: "oh my! That was fantastic! Your umbrella is like a clown's umbrella!" I stammer, of course, b/c I can't act cool...ever. "um, yes, it's, um broken." I get out. "That makes my subway ride! what a great way to end it!" he smiles, and I say "It's broken." And he kind of looks at me like he wants to continue talking to me (meanwhile we are walking and I am dragging the huge umbrella behind me) and I can't decide whether to abandon the umbrella and follow this lovely man or try to fix it. Being the dating genius that I am, I stopped to attempt to fix it. And I couldn't, so I totally blew that. Missed connections anyone? Went to grocery store and picked up: garbage bags, small garbage bags, pop, and pop tarts. How very not-grown-up of me. Must stop eating crap, but they are brown-sugar cinnamon!

Anyway, feeling very melancholy this weekend.

Kind of realized my heart is still a little broken. Also having an upset stomach, I don't want to admit it, but it's probably related. Also having extreme insomnia due to overthinking about pretty much everything. tomorrow...

Inter alia

so, I can't really give my post a date number b/c I haven't been on one, instead, among other things I have had the flu and a cold and other medical issues AND gotten sucked into the seriously disturbing tv series Dexter. Never watch this show. It will terrify you and you will be forced to watch to the end to make sure everyone is okay. It's like 24 only far far creepier. Point being, when one is sick and has been sucked into a TV hole, dating is nigh impossible.

Anyhow, have a date tomorrow, kind of. My ex. Kind of actually not that thrilled about it. We broke up going on 8 months ago and I think (this is prior to the date now), I may be over it (but I did have that completely opposite feeling after my brunch, see earlier post). I get it, he doesn't want to go out with me. He's going to call every 3 months and express some sort of sentiment that claims that he misses me and cares deeply for me. While being possibly true, I have decided that the sentiment might not be getting me too far. Great! Someone out there doesn't want me to get hit by a bus, fantastic. It's like someone taunting you with a delicious promise of smores but never actually giving you them. And this isn't a euphemism for sex. "Calliope, I know you love smores...and maybe someday I'll be ready to give you one." Um, I'd like my smore now, please. Or, if you are just going to (what amounts to) taunt me with it, please depart and stop speaking nonsense. Okay, end of bad metaphor. But seriously. I expect the date to go like this and will report back on the actuality of the date:

He's super nice, a tiny bit flirty but not much.

I flirt, but am a bit aloof b/c he broke up with me, not vice versa.

My coworkers who have met him are stunned that he is accompanying me to a work event.

I have to spend rest of week and early part of next explaining to coworkers that we are not back together and feeling awkward about the whole thing.

He calls me in 3 months to go to brunch.

blech.

Date 12

This is the third and the last in a short series I like to call “You’re just not that into him and he’s just not that into you either.”
After my moments of post-date paranoia, I got sick and took a few days off work last week. I was home, freer than usual, and decided to gchat with the guy who my last date with made me feel like a hopeless hooligan. We ended up communicating for almost the whole day and I thought maybe I could really like this guy.
But it must have been the fever talking.
He asked if I was free this weekend and we planned to talk Saturday for a possible dinner in the evening. After texting during the day, I missed a call from that evening and called back right away. Actually, he said, he was about to go to a buddy’s house to watch the baseball game because he didn’t know what I had in mind. Was I hungry for dinner?
I was, I told him, a little confused as to why he seemed to be trying for a last-minute ditch but at the same time trying to save face by acting so confused.
It was only after I hung up that I heard the message he had started to leave before he got my call waiting: He was definitely trying to dodge.
So that makes things a little awkward.
I thought maybe it was the cold I had. He did say he was a germophobe. And while I still sounded a little hoarse there was no coughing, sneezing, runny nose, etc. I felt great.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that he felt like he was doing me some sort of favor. Strange since the whole thing was his idea.
He took me to a place with tables and a bar, and then said he wanted to sit at the bar, where whadaya know, the baseball game was on. He looked cute but wore a tight ass leather jacket and I noticed that sometimes when he talks, he sounds like a jappy girl or a pretentious private school boy. I kept drifting off when we were talking, and I noticed hearing stories I had already heard, and telling him things about myself I had already told him.
Nothing like a third date to make it clear. This was definitely the last.
Then the bill came and he suggested I pay the tip. Which I did, after flashing a huge wad of cash in my wallet as if to say, it’s not your money honey, I just want to go out on dates with guys who act like I’m worth spending a few bucks on and who don’t double book on the eve of a previously scheduled baseball game, leaving me to spend my night watching them quietly route against the home team.
So bring it back Jay-Z: Hey hey hey. Goodbye.

Let me start by saying that I’m way too nuerotic to date, and defenitely too neurotic to write about it.
But this little experiment has been approved by my shrink. He says if having to date for blogging material will get me to go out, then by all means, it’s medicine.
So I recently switched online dating sites and ended up chatting up this one dude. He had a sweet face, seemed to have good taste and ranked kindness and bravery high on his list of personal traits.
I told him I liked his profile and soon enough we were emailing back and forth.
The arrangment for our first date was not ideal. Generally I like it when a man who asks me out chooses a place, suggests a time, holds doors, etcetera. I am a feminist. I think women are equal to men, if not occassionally superior. Still, if a man asks me out, I think he should pay at least the first time, and have some idea of where he wants to take me.
If I had more money I might be forced to consider why I believe this, but I don’t.
Anyway, since we were trying to arrange an after work meet and greet I chose a place nearby my job, a place where all I would have to do is give a bartender a wink and they would find a way to end the whole deal.
Soon there we were, drinking beers and eating grilled cheeses.
He seemed cool. We talked about music and a million indie bands I had never heard of, actors and actresses I had never heard of, etc.
But this was different than dates I had gone out on before. I just wanted to learn a little more about him. I did nothing to try to impress him, a problem I have even when I’m utterly unimpressed myself.
Apparently, the aloof thing really works. Before we said goodbye and after he convinced me to drink more beer than I had planned on, he wanted to know if there was a second date in store.
Honestly, I could have gone either way. I enjoyed my time with him, but couldn’t really see it going any further than friends – which I’m convinced I have enough of already unless they are the type who take you out to fine meals and then take you home and give you orgasms.
But there was, in fact, a date number two.

Date 2

One thing that’s important to understand is that at the end of the first date, I gave him a kiss on the cheek, refused to get into his car or be driven home, or even walked to my door. You never know who wants to chop you into little pieces, you know.
But for date number 2, I was already feeling comfortable with this guy. I felt that we liked each other whether or not romance was imminent, and I knew the whole ordeal would not be torture and would probably include getting kinda saucy.
On the first date my therapists words – I had just come from a session – echoed in my mind. “Watch your alcohol level.”By the second date a few weeks later I had already forgotten. This time, he had it all planned out. A wine bar close to, coincidentally, my therapists office. But something came up at work and I got delayed, so I beckoned him to my neighborhood again, this time to a new joint with a million beers and a menu full of swine.
He was very flexible, agreeable, understanding about the work thing. But I was in a whole new place than I had been the first time we met.
When he arrived I was talking to some friends I had run into at the bar, and a few beers later I realized I had etched my initials into the brand new, polished, wooden table we were sitting at. Then he convinced me to steal a shot glass by hiding it in my purse.
He talked, but I forgot to listen. We took a walk when we arrived at his car I jumped right in.
“Oh, did you want a ride?” he asked, possibly puzzled by the change in my cautious behavior.
The conversation went back to music and I told him about this Jay Z song I liked. I emailed it to him when I got home before I realized the refrain was “hey, hey, hey goodbye.”
He emailed me back this link:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=whwFlTrqWZ0
Is this supposed to be me?
There I go again.

Date 7: CrazyBlindDate

I have never been on a blind date. I've been on set-up dates before, but never a blind date. But I wanted to try something a bit outside the box so to speak, so I signed up for this website called CrazyBlindDate.com. The name tells you pretty much everything you need to know.

You fill in some very general information (your name, your height and build, what you're looking for in a date, etc.) and the website sets you up with someone based on your preferences and the time you're free. A half hour before your scheduled date, you receive a text message that supposedly allows you to contact your date. You don't get to see what the other person looks like until after you've gone out with him or her.

You can imagine how this situation can go awry.

I set up my date for a Monday, because at least if the guy didn't show up or was a complete freak, then I wouldn't have wasted a weekend evening that I could have spent more enjoyably.

The whole day at work I was a nervous wreck. I kept imagining every possible horrible scenario that could cause this idea to be the worst one I had ever had in my life. Murder, rape, vomit, laughing strangers, spilled drinks, acne, and bad breathe tormented me as the clock ticked closer to 8 pm.

I arrived a bit early and sat at the bar. I had brought a book with me, which I proceeded to read by the dim candlelight. There is a reason people go to coffee shops and libraries to read. I once saw a dude reading Heidegger at a bar on a Friday night. He had a book lamp and a beer. Remembering how I had proceeded to call him a dork, idiot and retard before my friends pulled me away, I stuffed my book in my purse and looked around instead.

Besides me the bartender, a lovey-dovey couple, and a rather surly-looking man watching the Mets game were the only other living beings in the bar. Outside, a man was pacing back and forth across the sidewalk. He kept checking his cellphone as if waiting to hear from someone. Guessing that this was my date, I texted the service -- which had promised to forward my message to his phone. A minute passed. And then two. And then four. Fearing that the service hadn't done as it had promised I decided to go outside and ask the dude if he were indeed meeting a girl named Echo.

Sure enough, this nervous-pacing-guy was my date. He was dressed in a suit and had glasses. Not cool glasses, just glasses. For the first ten minutes I imagined how I would change his style so that maybe I could be attracted to him.

He bought me two drinks and I was very talkative. Mostly because I was sort of unsure how to get out of this situation. I could tell he thought I was pretty (mostly because he said so) and that he thought we would be a good couple (because he said our star signs were compatible) but unfortunately for him, I didn't see it the same way. My eyes wandered to a couple hot guys sitting next to us and I hoped he didn't notice.

Every time I got uncomfortable I took another sip of vodka tonic. Not a good idea. Eventually, we left because we both had to work in the morning. He asked for my number and I gave it to him, saying disingenuously that I'd like to go out again. I knew I wouldn't answer his calls/texts, but it is hard to say no to someone's face. It is so much easier to give a guy your number and hope that he felt the same way and was just going through the motions for politeness's sake. This does not mean that it's the right thing to do. He went in for a goodbye hug, I went for a hand-shake. Awkwardness ensued.

My goal for my next date: tell the guy I am not interested to his face and don't give him my number.

I swear I'm not a pessimist.

Date 6: Underwhelmed

I had a first date with a guy from okcupid.com last night. Going into it, I knew almost nothing about him, just that he had a really Jewish name (I'm half-Jewish, and not observant at all), was short, and likes to go out to trivia nights at a local bar.

He was pefectly nice, but I wasn't feeling so great and was ready to go home anytime. I need to learn to send better signals or just end dates early. This date ended relatively early, but he walked me to my gym, where I was supposed to be meeting my sister, and asked if he could call me next week. I sort of said, "Oh, I'm balancing a lot of things next week, but okay, try me."

Now I'm not sure if I should head him off by sending a note saying I'm not interested, or just wait and see if he follows up, then say no.

I'm a little disturbed that the short thing bothered me. I'm tiny (5' tall), so short guys often pick me out (I think you can filter by height on these dating sites). I think I could be into a short guy if they have a big personality - if they're really funny, or do something really amazing, or at least flirt well.

I signed up for Crazy Blind Date (thanks to Echo for the invite), and I have my first CBD tomorrow after work. I think it could be fun, based on totally arbitrary judgments I'm making about this dude's name and summary of his political views.

Date 5: The "Dream" Date

So I didn't have an actual date, instead last night I dreamt about one of my exes--the entire dream was a date. It was a weird dream because I haven't thought about him in ages. We broke up about 5 years ago (although I took it very hard). I had harbored hopes that we would get together again but those were dashed six months after we broke up when we met up and after an hour he mentioned that he was living with his ex-girlfriend (and NOT the one he had broken up with me for), AND that he had accidentally gotten her pregnant one month after he and I had broke up. Having a kid with someone else pretty much negates any possibility of getting back together with them. I sometimes was nostalgic about him, but that's all.

I think he was inserted back into my unconscious a few weeks ago when Midtown Girl told me that she had run into him at a party and that he had gotten married to the girl and they were having another kid. I think that was a kind of a whammie. Obviously, makes perfect sense! He should marry the mother of his child (now children). But again, I think sometimes we hold onto shreds of dreams that we don't want to admit we do. So I think this ripped the last shred.

Anyway, in my dream we went from a donut shop to a go-carts track to some sort of house where we were both trying to fix the plumbing. Hmm, writing this out it all seems a bit too literal. Sweetness, childlike innocence (and children), and a desire to fix what's gummed up the works. And probably something sexual in there as well.

But it was nice to spend a little time with him once again.

Bittersweetly, it was one of the better dates I've had in a while.

Date 3: the Ex

Had brunch on Saturday in soho with my most recent ex who I haven't seen in five months. Every time we've talked to each other (4 times total) I cry or I come close to crying and both of us are upset. So, this was quite an accomplishment (venturing out in public), a possible public hysterical episode could have occurred.

Instead, it was perfect. Lovely, too lovely.

Had TOO nice of at time. Didn't cry but definitely wanted to get back together. Not sure what the next step will be...not good at talking about it b/c I'm too close to the situation...must wait and see...

Oh and an update about the night out with friends...no soccer players came by, but fortunately one of the women didn't bring her live-in boyfriend, phew. Did not end up being seventh wheel.

Potential date on the horizon...

No date tonight, instead a glass of wine with Midtown Girl and then to H&M to pick up a scarf because it is getting cold!! Potential one tomorrow...Antoinette, a friend from graduate school--nice girl, very generous--invited me out for a girls night out, but it has turned into an evening where everyone who is coming is bringing her boyfriend or husband except me (and maybe Echo, if she can go--singles solidarity!). Was feeling as I generally do...should I perhaps back out of this clear fiasco in the making? Having horrible moment of channeling terrible terrible Bridget Jones book (v. bad book; fairly charming movie) where I am asked about being a singleton.

But wait...friend hints that her husband may bring along european soccer buddies. um, yes?! Potentially interested, but last time european soccer buddies were promised, I ended up way out in Queens in massive beer garden (not the good one), with two couples. Had a fine time, but felt a tiny bit out of place, especially when the hugs goodbye came and I got on the subway to begin my hour commute home by myself. Do not want to end up seventh wheel in tomorrow's events. Hmm....

Date 2: The intellectual

Tonight I had a first date with a guy I had met doing speed-dating.

As an aside, speed-dating is amazing! I don't know why I hadn't done this before. I definitely plan on doing it again. You can tell a lot about a person in a short date, and I have easily spent hundreds of nights out speaking to maybe one person...so meeting 10-40 guys in one evening is genius in a city like new york. Girls--keep this in mind! For $15-30 (the cost of a night out) you get a drink and the opportunity to meet a lot of people...it's fun in and of itself. I went with Midtown Girl and it was pretty darn enjoyable.

So,

Adam is a quiet, thoughtful guy with intense eyes hidden behind nerdy glasses...just my type. We met for asian "fusion"--a nyc restaurant favorite (I ate all my food with my hands, he ate daintily with a fork; I ate everything in sight, including some of his food; he didn't finish even the portion he'd taken...these small things I pay attention to. One of my big no-nos is dating a guy who is thinner than I am. It makes me feel huge and I worry about rolling over and crushing him in my sleep.) Anyhow... Adam is brilliant, accomplished, a professor at a university I will not name, but will say is one of the top five in the country. He has studied at some of the best universities in the world, and he asked me a lot about what I was interested in. Seems like a perfect date, right? And it wasn't bad. The food was certainly good.

But, there was no spark. I just couldn't picture myself kissing this guy...maybe I could if I knew him better, so if he asks me out again, I'll probably go. I don't know...one of those dates where I was hoping for more...and, well, eh.

Check came, we split the bill. I always offer to split, and insist if I know I don't ever want to see the guy again (transaction completed). Thing is, and I'm a little ashamed of this, but I respect the guy more if he pays. I think because my whole life I've always split the bill and at the end of the relationship always realized I was the one left holding the chicken (wait, that's not the expression....uh, the buck? no you pass that)? I'd always put way more than half into it. Especially if the guy makes a lot more than I do, I now feel that he should offer to pay. It's a sign of respect. Yep, retro. I'll cop to it.

Introductions

I thought it would be good to know a little bit about those of us who have signed up for this madness and what brought us here. If anyone else is up to it, give us a few sentences about who you are and what you're hoping for.

So, here's my story -
I'm a 32-year-old journalist working for a health care union. I've lived in the city for 10 years, which seems amazing to me. In that time, I've had 5 jobs, earned 1 graduate degree, lived in 4 boroughs, and had just a handful of relationships. The longest was 2 + years, and we lived together. Since then, I've had a one-month whirlwhind romance with a guy who said he loved me on the 2nd date and turned out to be a sociopath, an on-and-off thing for three years (which is sort of on at the moment), dozens of awkward and bad first dates, and, unexplainably, a number of second dates following those bad first dates... I'm working on raising my standards.

For my first few years in the city, it was hard to date because I worked 11 or 12 hour days and often worked weekends. I also have a pretty strong ideology, and that means that sometimes a person's politics can be a dealbreaker. I once broke up with a guy after a big debate over welfare and public schools.

When my first boyfriend and I broke up and he moved to Texas, we were still friends, and he was lonely. I suggested he join some meetup groups and even try online dating. He did, and it worked for him, so I figured I might as well try too.

The majority of the people I've dated are people I met through online dating sites. Two were from Friendster (remember Friendster?) A couple were from speed-dating, and a couple others were guys my friends set me up with. The sketchiest way I ever met someone was on the 6 train, on my way to my sister's New Year's Eve party in East Harlem. That guy was bad news, but I'll save the story for another day.

I've been (mostly) single for the past 6 months, and I'm hoping this 365 dates experiment will give me a little push to jump back into the dating pool. I'm interested in new ways to meet people, and maybe new ways to screen people too. It's always easier to see red flags in other people's relationships than your own, so maybe my co-bloggers will have some wisdom to share so I can stop repeating the same mistakes!

So that's my quick overview of my dating life. I have not been applying myself this week, so no dates scheduled yet, but hopefully next time I blog here I'll be reporting back from some kind of dating adventure.

Date 1: First First Date

I've always had trouble with beginnings. Getting started with that exercise "routine"; writing the intro paragraph on that paper for my history of East Asian art seminar; cleaning my room. All of these activities loom large in the horizon, but once you get going it becomes easier. Like a habit. Brushing your teeth. I get anxious if my teeth aren't minty fresh before I fall asleep at night. But the boy I babysat when I was a teenager absolutely refused even to put the toothbrush into his mouth. He spent more time fighting me than it would have taken to swipe the bristles haphazardly across his canines and molars a couple of times.

Which is why when Calliope and I met for drinks this evening, and we decided that I should be the first person to get this blog/project/experiment/whatever it is going, I had a moment of panic. I hate beginnings. I go into this dating experiment kicking and screaming-- with the toothbrush clamped tightly in my fist.

Beginning to date again after being single so long -- so long out of the "game" -- is difficult. It is like having to learn to brush your teeth every night before you go to bed, or make your bed every morning when you're still groggy-eyed. It is so so easy to fall into the pattern of just letting it go. But I have decided that I will not let this dating thing go. I WILL not be the crazy pigeon lady leering at every remotely hot boy skate-boarding by me in Central Park.

I have had numerous discussions with my female (and some male) friends who live in New York City about the "dating scene" here. General consensus: it sucks. Sucks sucks sucks ass. It is like an endless buffet of glistening, skinny-jean-wearing, blond, brunette, red-haired, scruffy, artsy, clean-cut, wealthy, hipster dudes and dudettes.

If you don't get that perfect specimen of what you imagine you want (blonde-anarchist-tall-curly-haired-stockbrocker-vegetarian) the first time around, she may still be out there!!! After all, NYC is the endless buffet. If she doesn't exist here, she doesn't exist anywhere, right? I don't care what Sex and the City claims, it is THE worst city in which to be a single dating woman looking for something more than a meaningless night of sex or a week-long fling with the guy who can get you onto the list for such-and-such a party.

And yet, because of this dating-buffet it is also the best city in which to begin a dating experiment of this sort. 365 dates in 1 year. Emotional connection (DIS-connection?) with the precision, regularity, and calculation of scientists.

And here is how I broke my dating dry-spell cold turkey. Date number 1:

I met Christopher at a restaurant near his apartment in Brooklyn. The place was trendy and crowded, not a surprise for a Saturday night in his neighborhood. I've known Chris for about two or three years, but we had never really connected on a level beyond that of friendly acquaintances. Perhaps this was because we had always both been in long-term relationships; perhaps because I never really saw him as anything besides that really nice, kinda-cute guy who I could have an intellectual conversation with at my friends' beer-pong parties in Williamsburg.

So when things aligned last week (we were both out of long-term relationships, both feeling a bit raunchy after a few beers, both a little lonely) I was a bit breathless with the suddenness of our jump from mere friend-acquaintances to possible romantic partners. We kissed for the first time in a booth. I knew that getting involved with him was a very, very bad idea.

All our friends were snickering about us. He was still in love with his ex. I only like guys who are unattainable.

So when we decided to meet up for "a drink and dinner" I had fantasies of him canceling at the last minute. But when I arrived at the trendy restaurant twenty minutes late, he was waiting for me as promised.

We waited for our table for 40 minutes. An old man broke his glass of diet coke all over the bar, his pants, and the woman next to him. "It happens all the time," the bartender reassured him as the elderly gentleman's middle-aged son helped him wipe off his crotch. (I hope it was his son.) Christopher chose this moment to tell me I wasn't just a rebound. "I really like you," he said. "Thanks," I said. And for good measure: "I like you, too." And then: "Nevertheless," he continued, "I want to take this slow. I'm still hurting inside."

Good. Hopefully I'll have a boyfriend before I have to see you again. Yikes, I didn't just think that. "I'm totally ok with that, believe me."

The rest of the date went well. We talked, we laughed, we shared our commonalities. I cried a little bit on the inside because he wasn't Clark Kent, but just the nerdy-smart guy I'd always known. The softer version of my last boyfriend. Someone who would smile dopily at me, but would stand helplessly beside me while someone mugged me on the subway. Who wanted me to be the strong one, the capable one, the one who would solve all the problems.

But I, like everyone else in this multi-national, multi-cultural, multi-yada yada yada buffet city, want my Clark Kent to be Superman in disguise. I want my perfect man and I am not going to give up until I find him.

Even if it means I have to try a lot of really questionable lo mein, spicy tuna rolls, and chicken tenders before I find the perfect dish.

Plans...

Echo and I met up tonight...looks like we are starting off on a potentially good foot...

but where is everyone else?

Let the dating begin...

This blog is an attempt among a group of women living in or around NYC to get out and date. Dating is not easy, and it is especially difficult in New York. The premise is simple...7 dates must occur each week. Ideally, in relay-race style, a date should occur each day of the week, with one woman passing the metaphorical date-baton on to the next. However, in the interest of realism, we have begun with the premise that 7 dates total can occur per week.

The goals are multiple: get out, have fun, try to make even horrible dates interesting by blogging about them, derive moral support from fellow bloggers, meet new people, overcome fears and anxieties, and maybe even find someone *special*. In the hopes of making dating actually work, we are approaching dating as a project like any other...making it into a blog lends it a certain gravitas, or maybe it just will guilt one another into keeping the project going...

The rules

1. 7 dates must occur per week, ideally one each day

2. If you cannot go on a date this week, someone else must cover.

3. Expand your concept of dating to make this work. As teachers tell 4th-grade art classes: be creative!

4. Posts are anonymous.

5. No seriously identifiable information about a date can be posted. Nothing that would damage a person's reputation or hurt someone's feelings if it were read. Honesty is appropriate however, and sometimes, if someone is really a jerk, there's no reason not to let it all out. Let Common Sense and Decorum reign (a la Phantom Tollbooth).

6. If you meet someone and begin a relationship, and it is no longer appropriate for you to post here, you must find someone to take your place.

7. Typos are acceptable. This is blogging, not publishing.