The Games We Play

I've been thinking a lot lately about dating, and the games people play. 

You'll never hear someone say, "I really prefer to get to know the false you, fall in love, and THEN learn how crazy you really are."

No one will say that, but we all do it. You'd be hard-pressed to find an online dating profile that says, "I'm an up-tight, neurotic basket-case with emotional baggage and daddy issues." In the beginning, we wouldn't be caught dead in that ragged old t-shirt we like to sleep in, or with a sink full of dishes and clothes on the bedroom floor.

Instead, we all walk a tightrope of trying to really getting to know someone without showing our true, deep, dark colors. Some say dating is like an interview process. I think dating is more like trying to play Euchre with a new partner. You have to try to learn each other's tells, read your partner's hand, figure out when to trump high and when to go-it-alone.

It is difficult and tiresome, and you usually lose in the end.

It isn't until we're in full-on relationship mode that we let things go. It isn't until that point that we stop waking extra early to brush our teeth before slipping back into bed, stop cleaning the entire home every time he comes over, or actually go "number two" while she's in the house.

It isn't until we are safely and securely ensconced in a relationship that we really start to be who we truly are.

So why do we do it? Why must we play these games? Why can't we just say what we mean, and act as we feel? Why must we wait to call, play hard-to-get, and question how soon too soon is for the first kiss, the first over-night, or the first time meeting friend? Why can't we just be ourselves, for better or worse? Why is that so terrifying?

Okay, so I'm not going to suddenly stop dolling myself up for a first date, or cleaning the bathroom before a new guy comes over, but I would like to think that maybe, just maybe I could stop questioning and second-guessing and just go with the flow. I'd like to believe that I can just enjoy each moment, without over-thinking and analyzing it, that I can be just as available as I want to be, and that maybe, just maybe, I'll find a guy who happens to enjoy my own special brand of crazy for what it is.

Another One Bites the Dust

So, I haven't posted anything in the last month...because I had started to date someone new and it was actually going really well. We had a very amusing meet-cute involving a bee landing on my chest and him gallantly brushing it away before realizing what exactly he was brushing. From there, the chemistry flowed and everything was big smiles and fireworks...literally...best fourth of July date ever. Things moved quickly, but not because of me...he always wanted to come over after work, stay the night, and talk the next day. It was great, and maybe a little fast, which I pointed out once or twice, but overall, just enjoyable.

Then last week, he suddenly got distant, and last night? The "thanks, but..." text message. That's right, I was dumped via text message...very classy and personal:)

I heard my phone buzz shortly after getting home from work, and saw that it was him. Then I saw the first line...Hi Jen...Immediately, my heart sank, because, let's face it, when the guy you're dating starts by addressing you by name in a text message...oddly formal for such an inform mode of communication...that's never good.

"I think you're a really great person." Just what every girl wants to hear. Somehow, in a weeks time, I went from being a great girl who he misses if he doesn't see in a day or two and who he wants to spend tons of time with, to a really great person. Kiss of death.

"But I don't think we will work out and i don't want you to waste your time with me."

Seems perfectly reasonable, if things hadn't been so hot and heavy on his side up until that point.

I asked, for my own piece of mind, what happened, and was basically told that our expectations are different...mine are apparently high and his are...something else...Didn't really get a good explanation there, and I wasn't going to belabor the point...so there it is.

Now, I know that this time I did not push things, expect things, plan for things, ask for things, or talk about things in any way that would put too much pressure on someone. Maybe I should be less available, more aloof, more bitchy, demanding, difficult, or hard to get, but the truth is, that though it would be easier to turn off emotion and pretend I just don't care, I have no stomach for games. I never have and as much I'd like to think i could, I won't.

So, instead, I will keep on keeping on, adding each and every ridiculous chapter to my dating saga until I finally meet a keeper, or become the crazy cat lady and die an old maid.

Someone, please just be sure to play Another One Bites the Dust at my funeral...and remember to feed the cats.

Tell 'Em Large Marge Sent Ya!

Ok, I'm not the biggest girl on the planet...Not even close...They wouldn't even consider me for The Biggest Loser, but I have to admit, that at this moment, I weigh more than I would like, more than I am comfortable with, and more than I should. I'm no longer teetering on the edge of average/over-weight...I've jumped right over the side and am splashing around in the deep end!

I am, in fact, and I can't believe I'm going to admit this, twenty pounds heavier than I was a year ago. Twenty pounds! That's one of those big weights at the gym that are reserved for people with more muscle than myself. I've noticed a few things that have come with the weight (not including the lower self-esteem, derailed body image, and penchant for baggy clothes):

1. I waddle. I waddle when I walk...or at least, I feel like I'm waddling. I feel like a fricking penguin in heels!

2. Clothes don't fit. I know, this seems like it would be an obvious side-effect, hardly worth mentioning, but the thing is that until now I just kept telling myself "it must have shrunk," but eventually you have to admit that your jeans, shirts, bras AND shoes have not all shrunk. It is I who is in need of a little shrinking.

So, in light of my big fat realization, I have recently started doing several things...

1. Eating better. This means no more fast food (yuck), much less carbs (who needs 'em!), all natural, low-gluten food (gluten and me...we don't get along), and veggies, veggies, veggies!

2. More frequent, small, healthy meals. A plate of potato salad and a 100 calorie chips ahoy snack pack counts, right?

3. No more diet soda. It's nothing but water for me from now on. Water...and caffeine withdrawal headaches! Woohoo!

4. Working out. I've been going to the gym at least 3 times a week, and walking at least a mile or two a day...So far so good. I haven't fallen down or passed out or anything!

5. Wellness Spa. I'm leaving tomorrow morning for three days at a wellness spa retreat in the Poconos. I'm hoping that all the yoga (which I love and miss), exercise, nutrition/cooking classes and relaxation will be the jump start I need to getting back to the slightly slimmer, much happier me.

My Latest Revolation

I think, just possibly, I have figured out the lesson I need to learn...the mistake I keep repeating...I think I put too much pressure on someone and something upfront, wondering if it has long-term potential, questioning where it could go, are we compatible, blah blah blah...and I weight everything down with this worry, which is really just fear of being hurt, but inevitably, I am creating what I most fear, when in fact, I should be living in the moment, and questioning only if I am happy, enjoying myself, having fun. Is the person kind? Do we laugh? Do we have fun? Do I want to see him again? If I do, then I should, end of story. I think I need to stop putting this pressure of time time time running out, and just enjoy the now.

Thank you, O-Be-Zen-Snyder for the moment for clarity:)

Is Honesty the Best Policy?

When last I wrote, I was contemplating getting back together with my most recent ex. I am happy to say that I have seen the light on that one, and sidestepped the landmine. 

And jumped right onto another one, which leads to me wondering about truth and lies and what part they play in dating. 

We all lie, at times, right? We offer little lies, to make people feel better.

Those jeans don't make your ass look big. You're way prettier than she is. Size doesn't matter. It's not you, it's me. 

So, yeah, we all cough up a fib from time to time, but for the most part, I try to live an honest life, especially when it comes to the guys I'm dating. Now, I've always believed this was a good thing, that a relationship is built on trust, and being open and honest was the key to success. I don’t believe in playing games or beating around the bush. I believe that you ask for what you want and you get back what you put out in the world. So, I've never been ashamed to say that I want a relationship. I want a companion, a best friend, a partner-in-crime. I want someone to have fun with, laugh with, dine with, travel with. I want someone to come home to. And not just anyone, mind you, but someone I click with, have chemistry with, and genuinely enjoy spending time with.

I've put that out there. I've looked for it. I've asked for it. I've tried to find out.

I'm still searching.

Now, we can chalk that up to a couple of different things: I just haven't found the right guy, I'm looking in all the wrong places, the gods enjoys a good laugh at my expense, or I am now covered in a stink of desperation so thick that no man can penetrate it.

I've considered the first three possibilities in the past, but had never really contemplated that last one. Desperation. All this time, I thought that laying down my cards and being clear about what I was looking for was a good thing, a way to weed out the bad seeds and find what I want. A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend, and there's no point in wasting any time or heartache, but now I'm starting to wonder…is honesty the best policy? Should I be so clear about what I want? Is asking outright for something the best way to get it?

Or, as I am starting to suspect, is there a place for games in dating? Am I better off playing it cool, stopping the search, and accepting the casual acquaintances that keep filing into my life, interested in all levels of companionship except for complete commitment? Should I hold the cards closer to my chest? 

I'm not sure I have the stamina to play those games, but one thing is for sure…I am repeating the same thing over and over…hearing the same words, "I really like you, I want to be with you, but I just can't commit right now."

I firmly believe that life will keep sending the same lesson until you learn it. The question is, what is my lesson? What am I missing? Am I really picking the same wrong guy over and over? Or is it me? Am I inadvertently sending out the wrong message? 

Is honesty really the ultimate fallacy?

Evolve or Die

You may have noticed that my blog design is a little different. It's evolving...I'm sure there will be more tweaks over the next week or two as I play with the design. It's a work in progress...changing, evolving, changing, evolving...

Which brings me to my current conundrum - Can a relationship that didn't work once, because of bad timing, work a second time?

Everyone goes through phases where they are working through major life changes. For some people it comes after graduating from college, getting married, getting divorced, or having a baby. For me, this time of life was punctuated with southern accents, cockroaches, subway cars and airplane terminals. It was a long, difficult process, and not one that I had ever wanted to start, since I already considered myself to be a pretty awesome version of who I was, but after many nights of soul-searching and fighting through heartache, homesickness, and a total loss of self, I came out the other side as an even better, more evolved version of me. (Who would have thought I could be more awesome than I already was?!)

When I started dating my ex, it was very obvious that he was still trudging through the middle of his own life-altering process. I knew that, and I had hoped that he'd make it out the other side with our relationship still in tact and even stronger for it, but alas, in the end, we needed separation. He needed time to re-learn who he was and what he wanted, and I needed someone who already had that figured out, so I chalked it up to bad timing and I cut and ran.

Now, six months later, he is insisting that he's come out the other side and is ready for the next steps in life, ready to commit, ready to be what I want and need. The question is, could six months have made that much of a difference? And, more importantly, can a relationship that didn't work the first time, work when given a second try?

I've always been against the make-up-break-up relationships that drama-seekers seem to thrive on. I've never even considered dating someone that I dated before, but I also never stopped dating someone just because we were in different places in life. So does that matter? Can it work out if I give it another try, or can this only end in tears?

How to Bore, Annoy, and Otherwise Anger a Woman on the First Date

I was going to post about the Gilda's Club bachelor auction tonight, but after I wrote the whole very interesting and amusing story, my cat stepped on the keyboard and deleted the whole thing. Unwilling to endure the tedium of re-writing it tonight, I give you, instead, the slightly less amusing story of my date from earlier this week.

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We plan and we primp. We color and condition. We blow dry, we straighten and curl. We flip and we fluff. We file and polish. We exfoliate, we wax and we apply makeup. We wear heels that are tall and dresses that are short, and then we brave the elements and all the havoc they make wreak on the beauty we've created.

It’s amazing how much effort we put into something like a first date, and it’s incredibly frustrating when said date ends up being a total bust.

It’s been said that a person feels like they’re having a good time when they’re talking about themselves, so you should ask lots of questions on a date. Well, I’m sure my date had a really great time, because he did nothing but talk about himself the entire time. We met for drinks at the Winfield, a great little bar/restaurant near my house, and I sat down, ordered a beer and then listened to him talk about himself, brag about himself, and contradict himself for the next hour.

And I learned lots of interesting things about Sir-Talks-A-Lot. I learned that he’s really 43 – not 41, like he originally said…and 41 was already pushing my age limit. I learned that though he says he’s a very easy going guy who never gets angry or loses his cool, he has an awful lot of stories about getting angry with someone and…well…losing his cool. I learned that he hasn’t worked in six months, but he doesn’t really need to because he just rents a room from a buddy and doesn’t really have any costs or responsibilities.(Nothing sexier than a deadbeat with no ambition!)

Oh! And I learned that he is still totally in love with his ex. I learned a lot about her, too. Actually, I learned a lot about her, and her crazy stalker ex-boyfriend, and her two kids, and her minister mother, and even her minister mother’s diabetic dog!

At one point, while he paused to gulp down his third beer, I asked if he was interested in knowing anything about me. He stared directly at my chest and said, “Nah, I like to go on first impressions." He then continued to tell me more about himself.

Eventually, I started to fain exhaustion, yawning and looking sleepy…or bored…take your pick, and finally made my getaway. He called shortly after, to see when I’d like to go out again, so I did the kind, good-karma thing and let him know, nicely, that there wouldn’t be a second date.

Now, I’m all for getting to know each other, and I love to ask my date about himself and learn who he is and what he’s about, and I don’t consider myself to be a very demanding or high-maintenance woman, but I do have a few general must-haves. 1. At least pretend to be slightly interested in SOMETHING about me…other than my chest, and 2. Don’t be completely hung up on your ex…or do a better job pretending that you’re not.