What's the holdup?!

My last blog post was 7 months ago... and as you can see... no ring yet. Seriously? Seriously.

We always think there are so many signs. You're approaching a relationship milestone or a special vacation. Marriage is and has been a topic of conversation. He closes his laptop when you get home and hides his mail. He runs out and doesn't say where he's gone. You're going on a romantic and magical trip together (to California wine country!), the first trip he's ever planned. He promises it will be full of "great things."

When he looks at you so earnestly and you lean in and he starts talking about how much he loves you instead turns into a conversation about how he's falling behind in his "plan." And then the jewelry box, that little jewelry box, the one that is supposed to hold a diamond engagement ring -- instead holds a diamond necklace.

And whatever wooing and romance that may have happened over the weekend is clouded in dismay and heartache that you are not coming home with a sparkly bauble on your finger.

No matter how many poems or expensive meals or presents or tender looks there are between now and then, sadly, I know they aren't going to mean as much until I have that ring. Until I have that promise and commitment and physical proof that this relationship is going somewhere. Put your money where your mouth is brotha.

This is a real windowfront from a jewelry store in Napa. Too good not to snap.

journey to the altar

A few months back, I told you that I met a great guy with whom I am now involved.

Meaning, I’m not single anymore. I am in a committed, long-term relationship. But if you want to get technical – I’m not married – so legally, I’m single. I file taxes as a single person. I check the ‘Miss,’ not ‘Mrs.’ box. So by all intents and purposes, I’m single.

So prior to this relationship, I was documenting my experiences in dating survival. But now that I’ve got the perfect man, what’s left to write about? Weeeeeeeeeelll – an embarrassingly big shiny rock on my left hand wouldn’t hurt!! Only thing… I don’t have it yet. A small and easy-to-manage detail...

We’re in love, he’s met my family, we’ve talked about marriage, we’ve looked at rings, he’s even (gasp!) asked my parents for my hand. So, what’s the hold up? 

Looks like I’m going to have to get crafty. Ever heard of engagement chicken? I’m vegetarian, so I’m SOL on that one. Instead, I made “engagement crab” for our Christmas dinner. I think its going to be all the rage. You heard it here first people.

Another way I'm getting crafty... reverse psychology. (Not sure how well this is going to work in my favor considering I get drunk sometimes... and CANNOT shut up.) I tell Jeff I'm not in any hurry, I'm fine with him taking his time and saving up money, I don't want to pressure him, I'm enjoying our time "dating," blah blah blah you know all those excuses girls tell themselves when they fantasize about hearing that sentence of 4 words and wonder what is taking so long. C'mon, you know what I'm talking about ladies!!! I even go so far as saying, I don't want a big expensive ring baby, don't spend a lot of money (Lie) I don't want a ring at all baby (Lie) I just want to be with you baby! (Truth when accompanied by prepositional phrase '- after you propose to me with a giant gorgeous diamond')

In all seriousness, I would be happy if he proposed to me with a simple little speech and a twisty tie to keep my finger warm. What I wouldn't be happy about is fielding all the question - WHERE IS YOUR RING? - from people when I make my engagement announcement.

But on the other hand, I get it. I get why the ring is part of it. Embarking on marriage takes a leap of faith. When a man proposes, he's promising to not only commit with his heart and body, but with his resources as well. It's an investment in you and your life together. He's supposed to spend some moolah -- at a cost equaling 2-3 months of take home pay -- to prove to you that he's serious about spending his life with you. And think about it, it's gotta be nice -- the ring is supposed to last the rest of your life and look as gorgeous as the first day you put it on.

AND he's supposed to sweat a little when he buys it. When he sees his bank account go to near zero. When he thinks of the boat or the car he could've bought with that money. It's that sacrifice that partly makes an engagement ring meaningful. Because the boat or the car or the vacation or nameless wish list item is not what makes him happy -- it's you.  

Still waiting.... sigh.

Who doesn't want to fall in love?

It's one of my biggest pet peeves over the years -- hearing the line "I'm not really looking for a girlfriend..."
To that, a variety of responses boomerang through my head --
Who says I'm looking for a boyfriend?
Who says you even stack up?
Kind of full of yourself aren't we?
Really -- you're dumping me before the relationship even starts?

I had that reaction a few months back with R. He was visiting from a nearby state and we met through a mutual friend. He was attractive, and I noticed, but he was on vacation. I had no visions of grandeur in the slightest. But a little fun, could be fun...
Over the course of the day, our group hung out, and R. and I talked, swapped stories, watched a baseball game, did some day drinking, all totally platonic. It wasn't until after we were 10 drinks in that he made a move on me and we had a wild make out session. Hey, it's fun. It's the vacation mentality. Who doesn't like to make out and flirt on vacation? You're a little less inhibited. We're both single, so... why not, rrrrright?

Fast forward to the next day...

Before R. caught his flight back, we grabbed a quick drink and he casually mentioned, we should do this again... and I responded yeah, sure. He said, "You don't sound very excited!!" and I said with emphasis "YEAH SURE, LET'S DO IT... (?!?)" and he replied, "how about a month from now?" okaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay... insert incredulous look... So much for no expectations. Does he actually want to MAKE PLANS? Guys who make plans are an endangered species! I was completely fine with being a vacation fling, but okay, I'm open to it...

So R. and I began texting, every day, all day, back and forth. I was skeptical, but the more we talked, the more it seemed like a visit was not a spur of the moment idea on his part, in fact, he had the permanent marker out and was ready to mark up a page in his schedule book. Meanwhile, he's telling me he's trying to find a job in AZ. Hummm... there was potential there... but again, I'm a single lady and enjoying myself in the time being.
So I didn't let myself get carried away... and I didn't express anything beyond what he expressed. It has been my code for years -- never overstep the guy's sentiment. I find it wise to protect myself.

Example:
a. I want to see you. = b. I want to see you too. < c. I miss you.
Ok, I know the example is simplified, but a=b. Same sentiment. c>a. Bigger sentiment -- bad idea.

So as the month went on, we tried to schedule a time for the visit... but previously scheduled engagements kept setting back our calendar. But considering my ongoing happy state of singledom, if he waited too long, I was bound to be otherwise booked... and thus came the word vomit that had absolutely no warning...

 

R. it seems like you are really pushing me to come down there and I'm not really liking it. I would like to see you too but I made all of these travel plans before I met you so it's just hard to take any more time off or spend more money on plane tickets. I guess I just don't feel like you appreciate my situation

J. I'm kind of a planner. I have a lot of stuff coming up too, so I was trying to work it out. If it doesn't work, then it doesn't.

R. well I don't want you to get upset. That is what I am saying, I don't feel like you really appreciate how much time and effort it takes to come down there. Believe me I really want to but I have to be smart about it:)

And you are always welcome to come up here too!

J. it would mean a lot... and you suggested it so I figured it was something that you saw it being a likelihood

R. yeah I would like to come I really would, just as much as I would like you to come up here

J. well I was planning on doing that later! What are you thinking? don't worry about hurting my feelings

R. I don't know, nothing really. I just don't know when I will be able to make it out there and I am having a hard time committing to anything real far out w/ not knowing if we will be in the same situation in the future. I guess I am just being honest w/ myself and thinking "what could fizzle out" I really like you Julie but I am in no position to start a long term relationship either 

SLAM BAM WHAM! And there it is. EXACTLY what I'm talking about. So, you're breaking up with me, before we even start dating, after one day and a drunken makeout session? Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself there? Ha. Um, sorry buddy, but you would be SO lucky to have me as a girlfriend in the first place... after, obviously, you'd put in the work. After wining and dining me and freaking earning it like any man would. You think all it takes is one night to suck me in? You think you're the only one in my viewfinder? You are sorely mistaken!!

Bottom line -- when somebody says that to a girl, it's time to say goodbye. Or in any romantic situation, for that matter. Because nobody ever doesn't want to fall in love. If they say they don't want a girlfriend, or aren't looking to be in a committed relationship, the timing is wrong, or just want to focus on fill-in-the-blank... correction, they don't want to be with you. Boiled down... they don't want YOU to be their girlfriend.

To say the least... another one bites the dust. Cue exit.

And what do you know, but R. ended up in a relationship about two months later. No surprise there!

when doing the wrong thing is right

I had a friend get on my case that I haven't written a blog lately. I told her it was because I met an awesome, amazing guy and I had nothing to complain about. (Which I did - he's great.) So? she responded. Write your what-not-to-do blog in reverse. So that's what I'm doing - writing a what-to-do blog. I mean, if he snagged me, he could serve as an example - a god even - to men everywhere.

Yes, it's true, I'm now a taken woman. Dare I say, I've been tamed? And wonder of wonders, I met this guy online. Despite my own reticence at online dating, I took a chance on a profile that somehow caught my eye even though there was nothing spectacular about it. Was it a feeling? A hunch? Serendipitous? Perhaps. Whatever you believe, I sent Jeff a little pithy message somewhere along these lines -- "I noticed your pic from the salsa fest. Until I realized that you probably were at a festival for the Mexican condiment, not the Latin American style of dance. And since I'm more of a guacamole girl... I'm not sure we'd get along. ;)."

We played verbal ping pong for awhile, where I discovered we had lots of interests in common, but I didn't put much stock into it. I never put much stock into these things. I put all the stock into the first meeting -- the first time we lock eyes -- because you can tell everything in a moment.

Some people call it love at first sight - but I don't believe that. I call it "potential" at first sight, which is waaay more accurate. And that is exactly what happened with Jeff. I knew within seconds that I was interested and attracted to him and within a few minutes of conversation, knew we were going to have a great "first meet." And we did... we closed down the bar and stayed an hour after closing time, making great conversation. My potential meter was spinning sky high...
Fast forward to the actual dating, which really didn't start until more than a week later because he was out of town visiting family.
He did a lot of things right. Like -- come to me for every date (which in his case was 30-50 minutes), pay, open every door, not come on too strong but at the same time make it clear how much he was into me, complimented me in the subdued way so you know they are real compliments and not the mass produced kind, being totally appropriately in every way (you remember my prior experiences!! -- this is a big deal! Personal space and personal topics were always respected), feel me out for how I felt about other relationship-stuff and texting vs. calling (always a plus, so I don't have to tell you, in the middle of the movie theater - "I don't hold hands. It's so 8th grade"), didn't try to get physical right off the bat, ask me out for the next date during the current date, pay even when I tried to pay -- and be there for me on a momentous occasion (my birthday).

You're probably thinking, who is this girl? Is she just going to sing his praises the entire time? No... I acknowledge, he did have some missteps. He was playing it safe -- a little timid, which was cute -- but at first glance it could've been perceived as disinterest.

About a week after our "first meet," I texted him to say hello and make a reference to our not-yet-booked second date. (What can I say? I was interested.) He then asked me out to dinner later that night. I should've had plans, which I did, and I should've turned him down. But I didn't. We went to dinner and a movie and had a great time.

And, he took 3 dates to kiss me... when even in my impatience I gave him a way in. He said something romantic and I said, "Now would be a perfect time to kiss me." Sheesh! I'm a little sheepish about that. A little aggressive, don't you think! And he's not supposed to know I want him to kiss me, he should agonize over whether or not he's going to get slapped. Well he didn't kiss me, at least not then... but later that night I could see him trying to work up the courage... and at any other time, I would've thought, you snooze you lose, I'm not going to throw you a bone, I'm getting bored kiddo time for me to go. But I didn't. I gazed back into his eyes and squeezed his hand and gave him a little warning jingle of my keys. And we kissed for the first time, and the world spun.

Now, I can't totally fault him either. I am guilty too. I let it be easy. I was the rabbit who gave herself up to the hawk. I didn't just run out into the open and get snatched -- no -- I willingly jumped up high and thumped my paws against the ground saying, "I'm over here! I'm furry and delicious, come and get me!" to the hawk.
But isn't it supposed to be hard? A challenge? They need to appreciate finding the treasure, after all the toil and hardship and effort it took following the treasure map!!

The takeaway here is... when the right man does the wrong thing, it's not wrong. Because he's the right man. Even writing this, I'm having a hard time even thinking of things he did wrong, because in my eyes, they're not "wrong" anymore. When you care about someone, and they make your heart burst, and you want to spend every moment with them and then some, the rules don't matter. The game doesn't apply.

Jeff: "When you get to the treasure, it's not the end. It's just the beginning."

This cynic is reformed.

Let me know where I stand!

I am finding, in my somewhat limited interactions with foreigners, that there are a lot of differences between Americans and Europeans as far as romance and dating go. Earlier this month I went on a ten day tour and cruise of Greece and its islands. Everybody warned me about Greek men - so much so that I thought I was going to be kidnapped and forced to marry, a little like the Greek myth of the Lapith princesses and the brutish centaurs (depicted in stone on the Temple of Zeus front pediment, for viewing in the museum at Olympia). But it was nothing I couldn't handle, or nothing I haven't heard before, for that matter. I just put on my best affronted face -- friends who know me, know this face well!!

Now I'm not very good at confrontation, so at first it was kind of uncomfortable for me to fend them off, but I tried to be gracious about it. Except for the guy who asked me for coffee, admitted he had been following me while meandering around the city for a half hour, and tried to suck my face... Uh, all I can say to defend that choice is free espresso...

But now that I'm back, their straightforwardness is missed. In fact, it has me wishing more American men were like Greek men.... hell, then at least I'd know where I stand.

Take M. for example...

We've gone to a few events together, and our status is somewhere between just friends and makeout buddies. I enjoy his company, and we've got a few hobbies in common, but its never progressed any farther. I figure, if he was interested, he'd ask me on a date - what any dude should do. And its totally cool if he's just not that into me - I'm progressive like that. I would only care if I was super interested. But wait a minute -- is he?? Hence my confusion...

Not a day goes by where I don't get a text or IM from him. Most of the time, it is a meaningless, messageless text that doesn't require a response. BTW guys, that's super annoying. (If you have nothing to say, don't say anything at all.) For example..."I'm going _ on Saturday." Uhh... cool? Are you trying to invite me? Do you want my permission? Approval? Or are you just trying to keep a lackluster conversation rolling?

That brings me to my point. You are either a) interested but lacking balls -- err, confidence or b) not interested enough to get the ball rolling yourself. I'm just going to assume the latter. I'm not going to take anything you do seriously, and I'm not going to throw you a bone.

And please, ESPECIALLY do not wait until I'm drunk - to improve your chances of being better received - to drop the bombshell that you've really liked me all this time we've been hanging out just as friends... you are ALREADY in the friends zone and YOU ARE A PUSSY at best or a horndog at worst to try to take advantage of the alcoholic haze instead of being legit about your so-called feelings when you're sober. I can honestly say I've had xx guy friends do that to me over the years - and what's much more impressive to me is sitting me down, looking me in the eye, and saying, 'I would like to take you on a date. I like you.' To sum it up... if you like a girl, be direct. Don't beat around the bush. Confidence is sexy. Lameness is not!!

how is it that I always attract the freaks?

I have learned the best advice when seeking out a mate or date is -- always trust your instincts. Trust your gut. If something feels weird or iffy, listen to that feeling. My policy is usually, give every guy a chance -- within reason, of course. I should have paid attention to those warning bells this past weekend...

First, the back story. I met A. two months ago in an elevator in LA. He noticed me and said, 'You are very beautiful, do you have a boyfriend?' in a sexy French accent. I was flattered and intrigued, so we chatted for a few minutes in the lobby before I had to catch a flight. I found out that A. had a fascinating life -- he dealt diamonds, traveled the world, had homes in Brussels, Rio, and Belgrade, and was loaded. Hey, doesn't hurt. So I gave him my number thinking, thanks for the ego boost, I'll never see you again! and flew home.
So A. ended up calling me. And calling me. And texting me. And telling me to fly out to Miami to meet him. And then to quit my job and travel with him. And referring to me as his future wife and the mother of his French-speaking rug rats. Ring-aling-aling...

It sounded completely glamorous, I admit. And fun to imagine. Just think, this blog could be called, Adventures of a Rich Dude's Girlfriend. He would pay my way to travel to every country, then while he was out selling diamonds I could shop and explore and drink espresso and eat biscotti. What a life! So I ignored those ring-alings....

I noticed little things along the way. He was a businessman. Meaning, he wasn't used to hearing no. No meant maybe to him. I would say something, and it would go in one ear and out the other. Plus, there was too much fantasy romance crap, and not enough real life. Then came the sex talk -- the lingerie references -- the bedroom allusions -- and the question, "You're not a Puritan are you?" (At the time, I laughed and answered HUH? NO! But now I look back and think that in his English-as-a-second-language deficiency, he meant prude, not the 17th century bonnet-wearing sect of Christianity. Which, as a matter of fact, I am. A prude, not a Puritan. Bonnets don't look good on me.)

But, in the spirit of equal opportunity dating, I told him we could meet. Not me coming to Miami or LA to meet him -- and possibly get murdered or raped -- and if that strikes you as a possibility that is a MAJOR red flag that SHOULD NOT BE IGNORED -- but him coming to AZ, on my turf.

So even after too many warning bells to count, I let him come. More out of curiosity than anything else. I saw him on Saturday -- this is after I already bitched him out for being inappropriate and self-absorbed. And he ended up being both -- reminding me that first impressions are usually right on.

It was two hours of my life that bordered on molestation. The way he looked at me was the way a caged animal looks at a slab of meat -- eyes glazed over, lips quivering, salivation glands working overtime...

Here's the summary:
- He was 30 minutes late
- First thing he does -- come straight up and try to kiss me on the lips -- ended up with a slobbery smack on my cheek
- Actually says, "Your breasts are smaller." (Note: I was not wearing a bra this time, I was before. And why are you looking, you nasty freak?)
- In the middle of our meal, stood up and ambushed me with a kiss -- in front of the entire restaurant, and so that I couldn't get away! -- and not a polite kiss, a raunchy gross get-a-room I'm afraid you are going to eat me alive kiss- Grabbed my ass multiple times -- so much that I was afraid to turn my back to him in case he'd get the urge to credit-card me
- Tried to get me to come back to his hotel room
- Plus, he was flashing around a wad of $100 bills and was a jerk to the waiter and every salesperson we saw, more bad qualities

The only way I could escape was say, I gotta go back and change before tonight. I'll meet you in xx hours. And -- I got the HELL out of there!!

Bottom line -- trust your instincts women. If it sounds like bullshit, it probably is. If you are not looking forward to something, and are just giving him a chance because of some obligation you feel you have, don't. Those two hours deserve to go to someone who won't credit-card your ass.P.S. You're probably wondering what this guy looks like. He was not bad-looking. Ladies, beware:

a word about online dating

Online dating. I detest it. But now that its socially acceptable, I half-heartedly am giving it a try. Hell. Actually I've had an online profile, in some shape or form, for the past five years. But the stock I put into it is next to zero. Why? I just do not care enough, simply put. In all my years on the 'cyber scene,' I can count the dudes I've decided to meet in person on one hand... not because I had luck with it, mind you, just the opposite.

It's a lot of effort, online dating. Browsing profiles, editing your profile, responding to emails. I learned the hard way how disappointing it is to waste a few weeks of intelligent banter and my wittiest punchlines on a guy, only to meet him in person and find he's an ogre. Once, I met a new guy for dinner. I was excited because he was tall. Then I find he's a 6' man in a 6'5" body. His body was stretched like Gumby -- completely disproportionate. Most of the time, you know within 30 seconds if you want to walk right out the door the way you came. Sadly, social convention doesn't allow for that. Well, I think social convention is totally overrated...

So I've made up some ground rules. One, no dinner on the first meet. Why not? Cuz you're stuck. You're stuck for 2+ hours and chances are he wants dessert. During my dinner with Gumby, he agonized over his plate of pad Thai for two hours. Then when 9:30 rolled around, and he asked if I wanted to get a drink, I made up some story about an early yoga class. Yup, I need to go to bed at 10 pm Saturday night so I can make my yoga class, I sputtered. Hey, I was new at this...

So that's why I like to schedule my first meets at a coffee shop over the lunch hour, or an early afternoon, so you always have an escape route. And I don't call them dates. Sorry, it's not a date until we both know what we're getting in to and I pull out all the stops and donate a Saturday night to you. Then, its a date. Funny, none of my online suitors have gotten that far...

Which brings me to today. An afternoon beer with a closet homosexual who was pleasant enough company besides for the gay vibe and Alfalfa hairdo. I just knew, within seconds, I was not attracted to him in the slightest. See, that's the problem with online dating. Someone's cleverly written and well-thought out profile could be disguising an absolute personality void or nervous tick. A person's photo could be from before they gained 20 pounds and started balding. Or, on the other hand, you could dismiss an amazing guy because his photo didn't do him justice. My ex was a gorgeous man, but when it came to picture time, he couldn't pull it together.

I guess I'm just holding out that I'll meet that person organically and not have to explain myself when telling the 'how we met' story. I don't care if its the norm, I don't want to tell my kids, Mommy picked out Daddy in a yearbook on the computer!!