things that make R. totally awesome

when I fell asleep during a Musical With Very Expensive Tickets, he didn't mind. He thought it was cute.

things that make R. totally awesome

he has dimples I could get lost in

things that make R. totally awesome

After spending 13 hours with him, I'm sad to go home. And he's sad to see me leave.

things that make R. totally awesome

There's only one food he can't stand: capers. We stand in complete agreement with that one; I hate capers.

this dude must really like me

Yesterday I worked a half day, and he picked me up at 3 to spend time being tourists. We got horribly lost, asked directions at a sketchy convenience store, and eventually found our way back downtown.

We decided to do appatizers and wine at a local, well known Italian place. It was delicious, but after sharing a bottle of wine, we were a little buzzed. We still had a few hours before the show, so we made our way to a martini bar, where we each had two drinks.

Do you see where this is going?

R. had amazing seats at the theatre; so amazing, in fact, that they took drink orders and served throughout the show. We each had another glass.

1 song before intermission, I was konked out, fast asleep on his shoulder, and I preceded to sleep as he went to the facilities. The way he tells it, as he was leaving to come back inside, he overheard a man tell a cop that there was an unresponsive woman in the theatre. R. jumped into nurse mode, only to discover that the unresponsive woman was me, fast asleep. I'm a really deep sleeper, but he was able to get me up so I could tell the cop I was fine.

He still likes me and wants to see me again. Dude must really like me.

potentially awesome date #2

I'm working a half day today. R. and I are going to be tourists and then see a play.

This has potential to be an awesome date #2.

whoa, didn't see that coming

I had a first date with a new guy, R., that I met through a website. I almost canceled in lieu of an early bedtime.

I'm so glad I didn't.

We didn't do much: dinner at a sub-par local chain and then a trip to Borders for coffee and browsing. But the conversation was awesome, the attraction was there, and something just clicked. He is: a perfect gentleman, well educated, successful in his career, attractive, funny, and genuine.

"I'd really like to see you again," he said as we stood in the slight misty drizzle in front of my car.

"I'd like that a lot."

"I'll most definitely be calling you."

"I can't wait."

in which I'm told I'm the sort of gal who could pull a knife on a guy

D. and I were friends at first. We went to the movies, out to eat, ran errands, and the like. I told him he should ask me on a date. I didn't hear from him for a few days, and when he finally called me, he explained that he would love to ask me out, that he thought I was amazing and just the kind of woman he needed in his life.

But.

He needed to find an orthodox Jewish woman to raise orthodox children in an orthodox household.

I told him fine, I understand, but I hope we can still be friends. So we continued to hang out, and I contacted all sorts of experts on interfaith relationships, read all sorts of blogs, and came to the conclusion that he was right. For some couples, it works. But he's orthodox, I'm actively involved in my church and very much a Catholic, and both of our families are very strong believers as well. Neither of us would be willing to compromise.

Then one evening, with the confidence that only comes from downing a bottle of red wine, he kissed me. Everything changed. Those movie dates involved hand holding, the dinners and lunches came with playing footsie, and innocent movie and TV nights became much more.

He's a lawyer who worked long hours, and I'm way to independent to be bothered with a guy who has too much time for me; I appreciated knowing he was thinking about me, and when we were together, things were good.

To a point.

I had this lingering feeling that we were tricking ourselves. There could be no future, so what were we doing?

I started seeing someone else; he was attractive, successful and Catholic. We decided to not see other people, so I called D. to break the news to him. He said he was happy for me and asked if we could still be friends. I said of course.

The new guy didn't last longer than a couple of months. I'm not sure why.

Last night D. called me from the grocery store, asking if I needed anything. I needed cinnamon sticks, and he said he'd bring them over. He arrived with a bottle of wine in hand, and like we did at the very beginning of our friendship, we drank a couple of glasses while watching our favorite shows.

Halfway through 30 Rock, he decided my feet must be cold and covered them with a blanket. He asked if he could give me a foot massage, and I asked him point blank what he was doing.

"I miss you."

"You can't miss me. That's not allowed. That's not the rules."

"I think about you every day. All the time."

"We've been down this road before. You know how this ends. We don't have any future. Catholic, Jewish. Neither willing to compromise."

"But you're perfect for me."

"No, I'm not. You said you need to find a Jewish woman."

"But-"

"Don't say it."

"You're the sort of girl who could pull a knife on a guy."

And then we finished the episode.

welcome to the neighborhood

I met I. not long after I had moved here. We were friends at first, as I was still with LTExB. Not long after that went sour, I. and I started exploring our relationship in more dimensional ways.

He was decent enough: a musician with a real job that made good money, relatively attractive, but with a few too many tattoos.

I'm not sure what happened; this was around the time I was seeing Store Owner and Architect #1, so there seemed to be a revolving door to my love life. But I do know this. I went to see his band play, and he acted very odd. This wasn't the first time I had seen his band, and I certainly wasn't expecting any attention whatsoever. Something was just off.

We remained facebook friends, and a few months later he was in a relationship with a really cute gal who, I do think, is the exact opposite of me in the looks department.

Fast forward to the summer. My assistant and her son came over to swim, and as we're having a grand ol' time splashing about, I. and his girlfriend walked into the pool area. We didnt' excahnge words, and really, barely a glance. A month later, he emailed me. They had moved in together into my complex. He had thought it was a great place when he'd come to see me, so he's the one that suggested it. I respond back, "That's nice. I'm happy for you! So if I see you, do I know you"

"Well, she knows about us."

"What does she know?"

"Enough."

"Okay, but I'm not going out of my way to make friends with her."

"Probably a good idea."

They got engaged last week. I'm truly happy for them, as their facebook pictures make them out to be extremely happy. I probably won't wish her happiness, as I doubt that would be the correct thing to do.

Architect #3

I met up with Architect #3 at my favorite Mexican place for dinner. (Architect numbers 1 and 2 deserve their own posts, which shall be written at a later date.)

Architect #3 contacted me via a dating website. He seemed intelligent, career motivated and relatively cool, so I accepted his dinner proposal. After all, someone who frequents my favorite Mexican restaurant out of the thousands in this city has good taste in at least one thing.

First impression: he's a bit shorted and a little more round than I anticipated. Not a big deal, looks change over time. I don't look the same as I did a year ago, and most certainly will not look the same in another year.

Conversation was okay. He's a Yankee transplant as well, and does relatively well for himself. I was impressed with his design aesthetic, as I understood it to be from the way he described renovating his house and building most of his own furniture.

But here's the rub: I felt no physical attraction. Sure, he's well educated, successful, and probably well off financially. So was my ex I was supposed to marry this weekend. This new guy could take care of me, fund all my shopping, support my hair-brained ideas, appease my need to fit in with higher society. And I'd be the attractive, volunteer-of-the-year, well-educated and enviable perfect wife and mother. But when all's said and done, I need more than that.

Or do I? Would suburban bliss be enough?

He asked if he could call me this weekend. I said okay. But I don't know if I'll answer it.

store owner

I had never really asked a guy out before. I had just broken up with Long Term Ex-Boyfriend (LTExB) and was on the rebound, and on it hard.

It was summer, and I was bored, so I took a retail job, where I was highly overqualified and extremely underpaid. But the other gals were sweet and I needed something to fill my days.

The store owner from next door wasn't my usual type, but I think after nearly 5 years with LTExB, I didn't really have a type; my type was anyone who wasn't him.

After a few weeks of casual encounters, ("Can you make change for this $50?" "Can I borrow the ladder?" "You look nice today, I like your dress.") I decided to take matters into my own hands. Armed with a business card (not my own) with my number on the back, I waltzed into his store and asked to speak to him. A rather homely girl said he was busy, and asked if she could help me. I wanted to say goodness, honey, no, but I could sure help you. Instead I asked if she could send Store Owner next door when he had a minute.

5, 10, 15, 20 minutes later, I was still waiting. The other gals at my store, who were all still in college, had been impressed with my confidence. As we started on 30 minutes, I started to sweat, but didn't want to let them see me losing my cool.

Finally he walked in, and I casually handed him my card and said he should call me sometime to hang out.

He called me that night. We spent a few weeks hanging out, doing the usual: watching movies, going to movies, cuddling.

The homely girl turned out to be his ex. A few months earlier, she had slept with his best friend. At his house. And for some reason, she was still employed by him.

He and I hung out until she caught wind, at which point she threw a fit. They got back together a few weeks later.

Fast forward a year, and he bought her an engagement Mercedes to go along with the huge ring. She's still homely.

I saw him a few weeks ago. He said I looked beautiful. I congratulated him on his engagement.

"Oh yeah. Thanks," he said sheepishly.

He left, and a customer standing near us turned and said, "I don't know the story, honey, but he's got a thing for you."

"He did," I said. "But he chose someone else."

my dog

Sometimes I don't think that I'll ever meet a man who can love me as much as my dog does.

small world

As I'm cooking dinner, there's a knock on my door. It's one of my cool neighbors, M1. She came to talk about crazy neighbor downstairs, who has been a 65-year-old troublemaker since the day he's moved in.

As we're talking about legal reprecussions, she mentions that perhaps she'll have her friend, who is a DA, write a letter on her behalf to the apartment complex and Crazy Neighbor.

"Is your friend single?" I ask.

"Oh my God, why haven't I thought of setting you two up before?! His name is JD, he's 29, so smart, and he's awesome! You two would be perfect!"

"Wait a sec," I say, as I make my way to the computer. He sounds familiar.

"Wait, did you meet him on match?" she asks me.

"Um, we talked a lot, but for some reason never went out."

"Whoa! Well, he's one of my very best friends. You two would be perfect. I'm going to set you up." By this point she's jumping up and down and clapping her hands.

M1 leaves, and I sign on to match. His profile has changed; he now states that he's found someone, and that he wishes everyone luck. I email M1, who says she'll get to the bottom of it, as last she knew he wasn't seeing anyone.

I emailed him anyway. He emails back and says that he and the girl just got in a fight, so if it doesn't work out, he'd love to grab a beer. And that M1 emailed him the same time I did. I let him know that I'll be chilling on the back burner until he's ready for that pint.

in which I accidently have dinner with a married man

"Are you always so charming and interesting?" he asked.

I blushed."Only when the company is good," I responded.

We had just finished dinner. It had been a long dinner, over 2 hours, as we talked so much we din't order until an hour and two margaritas had passed.

He excused him to the facilities, leaving his cell phone and keys on the table. No sooner had he left when his phone rang, with a beautiful family portrait on the screen. Even from upside down I could see it was his family. His beautiful family.

He returned to the table.

"I hope you didn't miss me too much." He winked.

"I didn't, but I'm sure your kids do." I pushed the phone closer to him.

"What?"

"Your phone rang. I think it was your wife."

He turned red.

"I'll be leaving now."

"Well, for what it's worth, I didn't feel chemistry between us anyway."

"I'm sure that would make your wife feel so much better."

pretend girlfriend

"Are you okay?" D. asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"Why did you post on F@cabook that you're giving up dating?"

"I had the worst date ever," I said.

"How so?"

I then explained the eye-batting fiasco.

"Huh," he said. "Sorry to hear that."

This was coming from one of the guys I had dated over the summer, and probably would still be dating if not for the Jewish/Catholic issue. We had been friends before we slept together, then went back to being friends. And good friends, at that.

"Well, you deserve better?"

"Why is that a question."

"I don't know."

In July, he had said that he could not believe that he was sleeping with the girl in the green bikini he had admired from afar.

"So, what are you doing Monday? Or maybe Tuesday?"

"Why?"

"Well, I had sorta dating this girl..."

"Yeah..."

"But not really. We just talked. Turns out she was married."

"You dated a married woman?"

"No, she was seperated at the time. But she and her husband are back together."

"What does this have to do with Monday or Tuesday?"

"They're going to be in town and they want to get together for dinner. It's going to be weird; I'm gonna be the third wheel."

"Are you asking me to come to be the fourth?"

"Yeah."

"Whoa, wait a second. Are you asking me to be your pretend girlfriend?"

"No!... well, maybe."

"Is it because you know i'm the most beautiful, intelligent girl you've dated, and you want her to see that you can do so much better than her?"

"Aren't you full of yourself."

"Is it true?"

"Yeah."

"I'll be there."

I'm not falling for that "batting eyelashes" bit

It was a blind date. We met at one of my favorite restaurants, a place I frequent 2-3 times a week. Usually I'd steer clear of such a haunt, as it's not good to pollute a favorite hangout with bad vibes. But this dude was a vegan (SCORE in Texas!!!) and they have a good selection.

I got there early, but he had beat me. Drat. I had planned on informing the waitstaff that they should rescue me if I sent a distress signal, such as spilling my water.

Conversation was fair, but I soon realized that this man was far beyond the 37 years I had been told, as evidenced not only by his abundance of gray hair and wrinkles, but stories of being in his particular branch of law for the past 20 years. Huh. Didn't know one could be an environmental lawyer at age 17.

I found him interesting and a good listener, but that was about it. After chocolate cake, he offered to walk me home. This proved a problem: if I took him up on his offer, he'd want to come in. If I didn't, he could easily watch as I crossed the stress and into my building. I accepted his offer. At the door, he hugged me, and held me in that embrace far too long before pulling away slightly and starring into my eyes, cocking his head slightly to the side and batting his eyes.

And now's where I bring up that I'm 5'4" (5'7" in heels) and our eyes were right at the same height.

"I think I've found someone special," he said.

Oh crap. "Um, you're fun," I responded.

"I think you may be my soulmate," he said, and then kissed me.

I felt nothing except a growing against my leg.

"Um, I have to get up early tomorrow. I'll talk to you later," I said as I pulled away and started walking toward the door to usher him out.

"I'll be calling you. I can't wait to see you again."

"Um, okay. Drive safe."

He turned around and did that same head-to-the-side-batting-eyelash thing.

I shut and locked the door, closed the blinds and took a hot shower.

background notes

I find myself in my min-twenties at a place I didn't expect: completely and utterly single.

I was supposed to be getting married this December. It's not happening, but that's a good thing. That mess ended over a year ago.

Then I was supposed to move to be with someone. But he died.

Then I dated a guy who turned out to be certifiably crazy: call-the-cops-he's-gone-off-the-deep-end crazy.

Then there was the incredibly successful, attractive, intelligent man with whom there was just no connection.

Where I live now, there aren't many men who fit my criteria. I may have to import one from somewhere more cosmopolitan.

There have been over 50 first dates in the past 16 months. I can't remember most of them, but I'll try to write of the most memorable.