The Rolodex

This afternoon, having come home from work, napped, run three miles, showered, and blown my hair dry, I decided since it was such a nice day, and since we need dish soap at my apartment, I would take a bike ride to the dollar store.  I just brought my bike to my apartment from my parents’ house and am happy to have it, but in hindsight it would have made sense to get it three months ago.

When I get to the dollar store, I struggle with the $30-piece-of-crap bike lock I bought at Target last year…..honestly it’s the dumbest thing in the world.  Clearly, I’m having major issues, as a kind Ultra Hottie (that’ll be his Rolodex name) offers to help me.  I am sure I would have gotten it, jostling and jimmying the key a little bit more in its slot.  But I play dumb and accept his help, as he is an Ultra Hottie and just minutes earlier I watched him walk out of the Gold’s Gym in the same plaza.

He gets the lock sorted out, locks up my bike, and we exchange pleasantries.  He informs me that he works at the gym and also owns a salon/spa nearby, gives me his card, and says if I drop his name when I go to the spa I can get a discount. (Hey, I need a Brazilian!  Just saying.)  Then, as it turns out, we are BOTH bargain shoppers, heading to the dollar store.

We make our way through our discounted shopping experience and end up cashing out at the same time (though in different lines).  After his debt to Dollar Tree is settled, he comes over to where I’m waiting in line and says, “You have that card I gave you?”  I said, “Yes…” He took it and wrote on it, saying “It doesn’t have any of my information on it, so I’ll write it, so you can find me on Facebook, and we can network, and stuff.”

Ohhhhh, Ultra Hottie.  I don’t know if I will bother, because if you wanted my number you’d have gotten it…..but you are yum.  And apparently, so am I.  Life is funny.

As wonderful as my date last night with Dream Man was, I think I am going to keep my distance.  Here is why: as he is the Vice President of Global Public Relations for his company, he travels about half of his time (he said).  So much that the company wants to move him to London, so he would live here half of the time and live in London half of the time.  I do not want to get invested in something AGAIN that is just going to end because the person is moving away.

Honestly, there is a neon sign above my head attracting men who are moving away.  What is wrong with me.

That said, last night was so much fun.  He is super sexy and I like him and uh oh.  Also he has a dog, which makes everything great.

The daily avocado post was not my last post.  WHAT SHOULD I WEAR ON FRIDAY????

Dream Man said we would be going to grab a “bite to eat” and drinks in a part of the city that I know is shmancy.  Here is what I know about him (from his card): he is the vice president of global public relations at his company, a high profile financial firm.

So basically he makes all the dollar bills and I need to look niiiiiice.

I probably won’t wear heels because a) I will have been on my feet at Madewell all day b) I am not sure how tall he is so I don’t know what kind of height I can get away with c) we will be walking around presumably d) I don’t want to.

WHAT DO I WEAR WHAT DO I WEAR HELP ME!

Inbox me  because I apparently am not allowed by tumblr to be inquisitive.

I have a date with Dream Man on Friday night.  As you know, he had given me his card on Sunday while I was volunteering at the PMC.  I decided to wait until Monday evening to make contact.  I had been reading things online all day about how a guy who gives his card instead of getting a girl’s number is just copping out, and I was a little worried, but decided to go for it anyway.

We exchanged texts briefly on Monday night but after I had texted, he texted back, and I responded, I heard nothing from him for the rest of the night.  I was a little disappointed, but I figured it wouldn’t work out anyway because his texts don’t show up blue on my phone (indicating he is not an iPhone user — sad days).

He texted in the morning, while I was eating breakfast and away from my phone.  I came back to three messages from him:

1: Sorry, was out with a former client last night.

2: Know that I don’t make a habit of asking beautiful women out by plunking my card down on a table… But I didn’t want to crash the massage tent and interrupt the best thing that guy had all day.

3: That said, I would love to catch up over drinks some night soon.

Jesus.  I’m in love.  Anyway, after determining that we will be going out on Friday night, he asked, “Show me around [your town]?  Or maybe you’d rather hit the city?”

I said, “Let’s hit the city…take me to your favorite place!”

Hours later (it seems to me that this relationship will not be highly based on text messaging - which is good!), he said, “Done.  I’ve got a plan…”

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Also, my besty looked him up on LinkedIn and told me yesterday — he was born in 1978!!!  He is eleven years older than I am!  Holy moly.  I have no issue with it, I hope he doesn’t either.  I will post about the date later.

In other news, I have a terrible sunburn.  I never get these.  I’m so embarrassed.

This weekend (and every first weekend of August for the past five years, and every first weekend of August for the rest of my life), I was involved in a wonderful experience volunteering at the finish line for the Pan-Mass Challenge.  The event is a 192-mile bike ride across Massachusetts, starting in Sturbridge and finishing the Provincetown Inn on the very tip of Cape Cod.  It is, and has been, the most incredible thing I’ve ever done, thus far in my life.  Eventually I will get a road-bike and do the ride, but for now I am happy to volunteer.

This year, I was in a new position that I was a little skeptical about doing, but it quickly became more fun than anything I had ever done.  My two friends and I were working with a team of people at the shower tent, giving back-rubs to the riders after they showered.  I don’t like touching people, and had not realized I would be doing that when I signed up for the position, but then I realized it was a great way to have conversations with riders and make connections.

Well, one of the riders who rode in rather early whom I massaged was quite a nice looking fellow — I introduced myself to every rider I massaged, so it was an easy way to get his name.  But I’ll just call him Dream Man henceforth.

We had a great conversation, just about where we live (not too far from each other), what we do, where we went to school, etc.  I ended up massaging him longer than I should have — the leader of our team had to remind me that lots of people were waiting and I had to send him away!  As he was leaving, he said, “Maybe I’ll see you at *name of bar we talked about*!”  I hope I said something cute like, “I hope so,” but I think I said something stupid like “huuuuurrrrrr duurrrrrrrrr youre the sexiest”

Well, we saw him a few more times later as he walked past our station.  Each time he looked over and smiled at me.  And I died because we are going to get married.  As the whole event was wrapping up, and as he was leaving, he walked past once more and was oogling my goodies, and I gave him the cute finger-wave that means “bone me now hurrr durrr” and he came around to the back of the station where I was massaging.

We had this silly ticket system that didn’t really work, but it gave him the perfect opening - he goes, “I realized I forgot to give you my ticket when I got my massage earlier.”  And then he left his card on the table under a bottle of lemonade.  I hope I said something cute like, “Ohhhh, thanks!” but I think I said something stupid like “hurrrrr durrrrr blerrrrrr derp”

Either way, I was, at no point during the day, pretty.  I was hungover (from drinking all the booze in Provincetown the night before), hadn’t washed off my makeup, sweaty, smelly…etc.  I can’t wait to go on a date with him and be actually pretty and not the drunkest.  I won’t text him until Tuesday, though.

Basically, he fits all of my visual criteria (fit, tall, and dapper) and has a very Ivy-League name which is important to me, and I think we’re getting married.  I’ll keep you updated.

I also saw my first grade teacher there.  That was quite cool.

Well, I guess I stopped writing about dating because I sort of stopped doing it. Once D moved to Arkansas I got quite lackadaisical about my dating life and more focused on my performing and also spent a great deal of time thinking and writing about how much I hated my job.

But I had intended for this blog to be a Sex-and-the-City type blog where even if I am not dating, I write about it and pose questions and answer them myself and get my followers (do i have any?) answers.

In any case- lately I have been trying to stop stressing so much about trying to date (and since I made that decree to myself I have been feeling more at peace with the way things are)…..but of course you can’t stop thinking about what you don’t have and something I’ve been thinking a lot about are NECESSARY characteristics for someone that I might seriously date. Tell me what you think. Am I being too picky? What are your be-all-end-all criteria? I am HTML-ing it under a cut, let’s see if this works…

1. Between 5’11” and 6’3”. (I’m 5’7” so I’d like to be able to wear heels and still be short than Manfriend but I don’t want the height difference to be comical, a la Chris Bosh and his teensy wife.)
2. Fit and interested in staying fit. (Every guy I have dated in the past year has been involved in an adult sport league, and I realized how sexy it is. Also, I really just want someone to run with and work out with. Is that weird?)
3. Dapper. (I ❤ clothes as you know. Enough said.)
4. Likes to party but knows when to stop. (I like a few things- enjoying a good beer for the beer, and also partying until the end of the world. My guy should also like both and be ok with letting me party with my girlfriends while he parties with his bros, and we should be able to party together.)
5. Okay with both cats and dogs. (I like both and plan to have both someday soon. Don’t think I’m a crazy cat lady for liking cats. Cats are just adorable. He should also really like animals in general.)

There were more but they were all related to marriage and how the person should be when we get married and I think I may have gotten a little ahead of myself.

Dear Roommate,

I know that you are a kind, good, delightful person, and even though you haven’t taken the time to introduce your boyfriend to me, I can only assume that he shares those attributes.

On a seemingly unrelated topic (though this will come full circle), we live in an old, tall house, in which the walls are thin and moderate to vigorous movement can be felt in all areas in the house.

Finally, I know that you are not aware of this because I have not told you, but I have a job interview tomorrow quite early in the morning.

When you and your boyfriend are doing the nasty, every room in our ancient apartment shakes.  My build-it-yourself shoe rack from the Container Store shudders as it comes closer to falling completely apart; my favorite T-strap platform sandals hang onto their rung by the stiletto heel.

Yet most importantly, the pervasive pulsing of your love-making does not, as a rumbling dryer does for a sleepless baby, lull me into my own dreamland; instead, with every movement my eyes grow wider and my mind takes a small step further from the sleep I am so sorely wishing that I had that I had attained sooner.

Yes, I lie here, wishing I could erase the motion picture in my mind, only to be replaced by a picture of myself yawning my way through tomorrow’s interview, or falling asleep at the wheel on the forty-minute drive there.  But to my enjoyment, two minutes later, the house is calm again.

Was it good for you?  Goodnight.  Until your next 120-second trip to the promised land.

(Seriously, though, if this becomes commonplace I’m going to…..move out into a studio.)

Still super annoyed about Tattooed Guy.  It’s been three days since he stood me up and no attempt to contact me and apologize.  RUDE.

So on Thursday, as I believe I mentioned, I was supposed to have a lunch date with Tattooed Guy.  Had confirmed the night before, so I thought we were golden.  Didn’t hear from him all morning, texted him around noon, no response, so I ate my own lunch.

Not so much as an apology all evening, so I texted him, “It’s cool if you don’t want to get together after all but please just let me know next time.”  No response (still).  I am giving him the benefit of the doubt and assuming that he was having trouble with his phone, because I know that he had been, but of course I have no actual proof of that.

Last night, I get a follow request from him on Twitter (lending credence to the phone-issues suspicion), so I confirm it and follow back so that he can direct message me his apology for standing me up.  Nothing so far.

But I am in SUCH a drought that I would still go out with him if he asked once more and seemed to have a good reason for being a flakey Leela flake.

Well, I was SUPPOSED to go out with Tattooed Guy for lunch today, but……I never heard from him at all.  After confirming last night that we were GOING to meet today…..nothing. Pretty pissed off but I’ll get over it because I got some good practicing done.

On top: The Boy Shirt, J.Crew; Perfect Fit Tank Top, J.Crew.

On bottom: Skinny Skinny Ankle Jeans in White Wash, Madewell.

Footwear: Buckle Flats, Banana Republic.