Not the first good date, but a good one. The guy was super cute, medium height. Skinny in an awkward, adorable, I-want-to-touch-him way, with super-hip black rimmed square-ish glasses. A prominent nose, angular features, and shaggy short brown hair. A total urban hipster, but completely sweet and unpretentious. In fact, an artist! I’ll call him "Archie" because he wants to go back to school for architecture. The truth is, I didn't feel a lot of chemistry, but since I found him awfully attractive, maybe it's not an issue.
We had plans to meet at noon in Dupont Circle. I knew I would be late so I called him to reschedule for 12:30. He suggested Teaism and that was a good idea. I managed to putter, talk to Heather and Cyndy, and had to rush out despite the leeway I'd given myself. I called my mom on the way since she had sent me a sad sounding email the night before. I worked my dime-store psychology magic on her during my ten-minute walk to the train. I got to the place only five minutes late. I poked my head in and didn't see him, so I went back outside and sat on a bench. After about 20 minutes I started to wonder where he was and contemplated calling him. Then, he came out. We recognized each other immediately and avoided the awkward handshake thing. He was really sorry about missing me. I assured him it was no big deal. He said, I feel really, really bad about this. I said, "don't worry about it. It's a really pretty day and there are those cute dogs. It's December 31, the sun is shining and it's 60 degrees." There were three really cute dogs someone had parked outside the café and I was enjoying watching them. The time had passed quickly.
He asked me what I would like to drink and I said I like the sweet green tea (as soon as I knew we were going to Teaism I started fantasizing about it). He said, I'll get you one and jumped up and went back inside before I even had a chance to stand up. He left his NYTimes, which I started to read. He'd doodled all over it and I tried not to examine the doodles--it felt like invading his privacy. I opened up a page and read an article about Jerry Orbach and it made me sad. (Jerry, I will miss you so much.) Archie came back with my sweet green tea and we decided to walk around since it was so pretty. We started walking and I started talking. He asked me lots of questions, where had I lived, where were my parents from, where did I go to school. I did reciprocate, but my answers (surprise, surprise) were usually a bit longer. He steered us down to the circle where there were plenty of open benches and we sat and continued to talk.
Somehow I got on the topic of growing up Jewish in the South (Knoxville, TN, where I attended grades K-5). I don't think I've ever covered this territory on a first date, but given that I knew he was Jewish, it seemed natural. I guess that is a big benefit of Jdate©, at least if you actually meet someone Jewish there. We were a bit in a conversational rut on the Jewish thing, when Archie asked me if I liked art. Well, I do, though I'm no expert. He'd just seen the Calder/Miró exhibit at the Phillips and I have seen it too. We talked about that, and a couple of other local exhibits (the Dan Flavin at the National Gallery and the Ana Mendieta at the Hirshhorn). I expounded a bit, but he seemed interested and had interesting things to say. It was a good conversation. Then I vaguely remembered he was an artist and I asked him if he had studied art. He had, and got a BFA, specializing in furniture design. I thought that was really cool. He even has a little business making and designing furniture. He's worked as a carpenter and a welder. He wants to go back to school for architecture. Now he has three jobs, REI, architectural drafting and his furniture business. I mentioned IKEA and he didn't slam it, even said some of their stuff was good (so I don't have to be worried about him seeing my 99% IKEA house (Heather says: but you really can't tell)). I told him about my bench and my kitchen cupboard painting adventure (a long walk for a short drink, but a good outcome). I had tons to say and he did too, but then he had to go and he offered to give me a ride home or wherever I wanted to go. I accepted and we continued to chat happily in the car. I told him about my trip to Peru in some detail (though not this much). He dropped me off and said he had a really good time. I said I'd had a good time too and I managed to make the goodbye reasonably short. I think we will see each other again, but we did not make a definite plan.
When I checked my phone after Archie dropped me off, there were calls from last night's date (I'm not defensive) and the third date guy (details pending), aka Ethan. I haven't been this popular…ever!
And so, is there a problem with Archie? Well, not really, except, he's young, 27. And does that mean we don't want the same things? I dunno. It does matter and that's what I need to remember. But I really like him and want to see what happens. It's completely easy to see being friends with him and that would be GREAT. If it doesn't turn out to be more, then I think I will be happy. I spent a really nice time with a really interesting guy who made me feel happy, comfortable and interesting. It wasn't a hilarious good time, but it was fun and engaging. Maybe hilarious will happen later when he's more comfortable with me--or we're more comfortable with each other.
Friday, December 31, 2004
I'm not defensive
I am grateful for knowing when an interesting date is still a bad date.
The guy I went out with last night was interesting. That is, I was never bored on our date. Yet, it was somewhat miserable. Everything I said, he questioned. Then he told me I was being defensive and I needed to let things go. When I laughed, he said, why do you think that’s funny? I said, do you realize what you’re saying to me? He said, I am just trying to help. Well, how I feel is, who asked him? I also said, look, as much as I may want to and as much as I may need to and as much as I may try to, I’m not going to change. At least not much. So, if we can’t manage to get along now, maybe this isn’t going to work out. In the past, I think I might have kept trying with this guy. He was attractive, he was interesting. I liked him, even though I didn’t enjoy myself. (I feel awfully perverse writing this.) But, when he was driving me home, I realized that the only time I’d laughed the whole evening was at the absurdity of the situation. As KJ said, there’s a lot of things I don’t screen on (religion, politics, age), but shouldn’t I screen on humor? (A shared sense of, that is.) And this guy did not make me happy, did not make me laugh, and he did not inspire me to tell funny stories. He made me defensive, frustrated and annoyed. Thus, it was and will be our first and only date.
Later, when I told Heather about this guy, she said, "he's a yenta!" Now, that would never have come out of my mouth, but I think she's right. He kept telling me what whas wrong with me and how I could improve. I did tell him all three (!) of my bad date stories and he critisized my reactions to each situation. In all cases, I thought that an apology was deserved, but I didn't necessarily expect it. Actually, I was pretty sure Robert would apologize (and he did). Lou, I thought he might, was dissappointed that he didn't, but it wasn't a surprise. Johnny, well, I was just terrified he would call so I was relieved never to hear from him again. Yenta-man also thought it was interesting to think about why Johnny left me so uncerimoniously on the side of the road. He did agree that it was beyond rude, but yenta-man thought that Johnny wanted something from me and didn't really want me to leave. I just thought Johnny was nuts.
The guy I went out with last night was interesting. That is, I was never bored on our date. Yet, it was somewhat miserable. Everything I said, he questioned. Then he told me I was being defensive and I needed to let things go. When I laughed, he said, why do you think that’s funny? I said, do you realize what you’re saying to me? He said, I am just trying to help. Well, how I feel is, who asked him? I also said, look, as much as I may want to and as much as I may need to and as much as I may try to, I’m not going to change. At least not much. So, if we can’t manage to get along now, maybe this isn’t going to work out. In the past, I think I might have kept trying with this guy. He was attractive, he was interesting. I liked him, even though I didn’t enjoy myself. (I feel awfully perverse writing this.) But, when he was driving me home, I realized that the only time I’d laughed the whole evening was at the absurdity of the situation. As KJ said, there’s a lot of things I don’t screen on (religion, politics, age), but shouldn’t I screen on humor? (A shared sense of, that is.) And this guy did not make me happy, did not make me laugh, and he did not inspire me to tell funny stories. He made me defensive, frustrated and annoyed. Thus, it was and will be our first and only date.
Later, when I told Heather about this guy, she said, "he's a yenta!" Now, that would never have come out of my mouth, but I think she's right. He kept telling me what whas wrong with me and how I could improve. I did tell him all three (!) of my bad date stories and he critisized my reactions to each situation. In all cases, I thought that an apology was deserved, but I didn't necessarily expect it. Actually, I was pretty sure Robert would apologize (and he did). Lou, I thought he might, was dissappointed that he didn't, but it wasn't a surprise. Johnny, well, I was just terrified he would call so I was relieved never to hear from him again. Yenta-man also thought it was interesting to think about why Johnny left me so uncerimoniously on the side of the road. He did agree that it was beyond rude, but yenta-man thought that Johnny wanted something from me and didn't really want me to leave. I just thought Johnny was nuts.
Drama
A few words on drama…
The first two blah Jdates© caused me to think a bit about the last guy I dated, the Republican. Now, that was a very fouled up situation, but I really liked him. He was compelling. Very, very interesting. Even when he was boring, he was interesting. Now, there was little to no hope of it “working out,” but I didn’t care. Because I never care. Maybe it’s time I started caring.
Audrey (best friend from back home) has told me, many times, to avoid drama. She knows that it is a problem for me. I get caught up in it and I find it very compelling. But there is very little that is healthy about it.
The first two blah Jdates© caused me to think a bit about the last guy I dated, the Republican. Now, that was a very fouled up situation, but I really liked him. He was compelling. Very, very interesting. Even when he was boring, he was interesting. Now, there was little to no hope of it “working out,” but I didn’t care. Because I never care. Maybe it’s time I started caring.
Audrey (best friend from back home) has told me, many times, to avoid drama. She knows that it is a problem for me. I get caught up in it and I find it very compelling. But there is very little that is healthy about it.
Thursday, December 30, 2004
Enumerating Dates
What I haven't done is mentioned much about the fellows I've been meeting on JDate©. I'm not sure how to do this, since I think confidentially is important. I will change/abbreviate/nickname the guys to protect their privacy. However, I need to work on my descriptive writing skills. I'm good at setting a scene and conveying my own feelings, my reactions and other's reactions, but I'm lousy at physical description. I want to try and tell you what these guys look like and I won't be able to make that up. I'm assuming my readership will be low to zero, so perhaps this is a complete non-issue.
I'll go in the order of the dates. The first date, with musical guy (MG), was on a Thursday afternoon. I was off work early because it was X-mas eve eve. He had left me a message the evening before. He called me on the eve eve and wanted to have coffee. Even though our email communication was brief and the phone call non-informative, I agreed. He had a nice voice. I went back to "work." (Right, I did zero work, but I stared at the computer and read for about five minutes. Five minutes of work. That's what they pay me for. It's very sad.)
I ran out to meet him, not leaving myself time to walk, which I'd meant to do since I seem to be on semi-permanent gym hiatus. I browse some of the shops in Union Station when I get there, just so I won't be exactly on time. I buy nothing. I get to the Starbucks, one minute late, and I don't see him, though I'm not sure I'll recognize him. I walk around to the other side, and there he is, leaning against the wall, holding an enormous bottle of water (ok, a one-liter bottle, but why?). He is about as advertised, maybe 5"8' or 5"9', dark hair, square-ish face, dark, kind eyes, glasses with gold rims. Not thin, just medium, with perhaps the tiniest, completely inoffensive bit of a belly. Dressed non-descriptly in chinos (khaki-colored), a sweater, and a jacket. Nothing special or interesting about the clothes, but nothing objectionable either. The only problem is that he doesn't have as much hair as in the picture. He has plenty, he is not bald, but the hairline has been pushed back considerably since the picture and it annoys me.
We order coffee and sit down. He gets the white chocolate mocha (ugh) and I have a decafe americano (virtuous me, but I add plenty o' sugar and milk). He pays, though I offer (s'ok, he asked and Mom says the asker pays). We proceed to talk. The going is slow. He offers up some recent old movie watching experience. My ears prick up because I am the old movie expert nonpareil. And he stumps me several times. (I do wish I could remember the names of the movies he mentioned, but I'm not so good at that.) And he nearly bores me to tears with his five minute synopses of each of the movies he names. And I can't figure out why I'm bored, because I love old movies and I never meet anyone who knows anything about them and shares my enthusiasm (I have tolerant friends who show interest, but lack depth of knowledge). I do manage to stump him when he asks me about my favorite movie, Born Yesterday. I also tout my only semi-famous movie industry relative. He actually seems impressed.
It goes on like this for a while. There are silences, he talks. At some point, I rouse myself and start participate. I talk, I ramble. I am relieved to listen to something interesting--me!--I feel guilty (I wonder, am I a man?). The musical guy is so-named because he plays many musical instruments, which he enumerates for me. And this is where he also lost me. I try to draw him out about what his music means to him.
Jamy: So, what is the point...what is it you want to do with the music?
MG: Well, I used to play in a wedding band, but we didn't get any work.
Jamy: But, do you see yourself doing something else with it?
MG: First, I'm going to buy a new couch. The one I have is really beat up. Now that I've been in the same apartment for 14 years, things are starting to wear out.
Jamy (puzzled): But, um, what does that have to do with music? Is it just a hobby?
MG: Uh, yes, just a hobby.
I start to think I have a lost soul on my hands. We wrap up and he wants to make plans for the weekend. I demur and say we have each other's numbers and can figure it out, but that I think I might have plans already on Sunday (I do: my plan is to spend the entire day alone because I'm booked solid Friday and Saturday). We shake hands and on my short walk home I try and imagine seeing MG again and I realize I would be terribly, terribly bored. I feel bad, because he was really awfully nice, reasonably attractive, sufficiently intelligent and seemed to like me. But, I just could not picture it. I guess he got the message, because I haven't heard from him.
I'll go in the order of the dates. The first date, with musical guy (MG), was on a Thursday afternoon. I was off work early because it was X-mas eve eve. He had left me a message the evening before. He called me on the eve eve and wanted to have coffee. Even though our email communication was brief and the phone call non-informative, I agreed. He had a nice voice. I went back to "work." (Right, I did zero work, but I stared at the computer and read for about five minutes. Five minutes of work. That's what they pay me for. It's very sad.)
I ran out to meet him, not leaving myself time to walk, which I'd meant to do since I seem to be on semi-permanent gym hiatus. I browse some of the shops in Union Station when I get there, just so I won't be exactly on time. I buy nothing. I get to the Starbucks, one minute late, and I don't see him, though I'm not sure I'll recognize him. I walk around to the other side, and there he is, leaning against the wall, holding an enormous bottle of water (ok, a one-liter bottle, but why?). He is about as advertised, maybe 5"8' or 5"9', dark hair, square-ish face, dark, kind eyes, glasses with gold rims. Not thin, just medium, with perhaps the tiniest, completely inoffensive bit of a belly. Dressed non-descriptly in chinos (khaki-colored), a sweater, and a jacket. Nothing special or interesting about the clothes, but nothing objectionable either. The only problem is that he doesn't have as much hair as in the picture. He has plenty, he is not bald, but the hairline has been pushed back considerably since the picture and it annoys me.
We order coffee and sit down. He gets the white chocolate mocha (ugh) and I have a decafe americano (virtuous me, but I add plenty o' sugar and milk). He pays, though I offer (s'ok, he asked and Mom says the asker pays). We proceed to talk. The going is slow. He offers up some recent old movie watching experience. My ears prick up because I am the old movie expert nonpareil. And he stumps me several times. (I do wish I could remember the names of the movies he mentioned, but I'm not so good at that.) And he nearly bores me to tears with his five minute synopses of each of the movies he names. And I can't figure out why I'm bored, because I love old movies and I never meet anyone who knows anything about them and shares my enthusiasm (I have tolerant friends who show interest, but lack depth of knowledge). I do manage to stump him when he asks me about my favorite movie, Born Yesterday. I also tout my only semi-famous movie industry relative. He actually seems impressed.
It goes on like this for a while. There are silences, he talks. At some point, I rouse myself and start participate. I talk, I ramble. I am relieved to listen to something interesting--me!--I feel guilty (I wonder, am I a man?). The musical guy is so-named because he plays many musical instruments, which he enumerates for me. And this is where he also lost me. I try to draw him out about what his music means to him.
Jamy: So, what is the point...what is it you want to do with the music?
MG: Well, I used to play in a wedding band, but we didn't get any work.
Jamy: But, do you see yourself doing something else with it?
MG: First, I'm going to buy a new couch. The one I have is really beat up. Now that I've been in the same apartment for 14 years, things are starting to wear out.
Jamy (puzzled): But, um, what does that have to do with music? Is it just a hobby?
MG: Uh, yes, just a hobby.
I start to think I have a lost soul on my hands. We wrap up and he wants to make plans for the weekend. I demur and say we have each other's numbers and can figure it out, but that I think I might have plans already on Sunday (I do: my plan is to spend the entire day alone because I'm booked solid Friday and Saturday). We shake hands and on my short walk home I try and imagine seeing MG again and I realize I would be terribly, terribly bored. I feel bad, because he was really awfully nice, reasonably attractive, sufficiently intelligent and seemed to like me. But, I just could not picture it. I guess he got the message, because I haven't heard from him.
Happy New Year's Eve Eve
I am grateful for Fred Allen.
I also want to thank Julie for her wonderful, outstanding, fascinating blog, "The Julie/Julia Project." Go read it right away. I'm working my way through the archive and it's what convinced me that I needed a project of my own. I can't wait to see how it all turns out. Julie has a great and compelling voice and her project is an inspiration.
I also want to thank Julie for her wonderful, outstanding, fascinating blog, "The Julie/Julia Project." Go read it right away. I'm working my way through the archive and it's what convinced me that I needed a project of my own. I can't wait to see how it all turns out. Julie has a great and compelling voice and her project is an inspiration.
Wednesday, December 29, 2004
More on gratitude
I think I’m starting to get the theme for this blog. Really, what does gratitude have to do with dating? Maybe a lot. Look, I’m picky, I’m moody, I’m impatient. I’m unlikely to give guys a chance and likely to write them off as boring. If I’m going to go out on a lot of internet assisted dates, I need to find some way to make it a more satisfying experience. Maybe that’s where gratitude comes in.
By the way, the whole gratitude thing sort of reeks of self-help, touchy-feely, new age, icky stuff that I hate, hate, hate. That’s just how big a rut I’m in: I’ll try almost anything.
So, here's the other thing I've been trying: I've just signed on to a new internet dating site. It's the fourth one I've tried (that is scary) and I'm getting the most responses ever. In one week, I've had three dates and a fourth is pending. On those other sites, over a combined total of six or seven months of activity, I had seven dates with five different guys. Why is this site different from all other sites? Why? Because it's JDate of course. Now, talk about scary. I'm a not very observant, not very religious Jew. I was raised Reform, had a Bat Mitzvah and go to Temple on the High Holidays. I'm ambivalent about God and not enthusiastic about organized religion at all. I've only been on dates with Jewish guys, and less than a handful of those. All of my serious (whatever that means) relationships have been with non-Jewish (Christian) guys and some of them were even believers, though obviously somewhat open-minded.
I have to wonder, what am I doing on JDate? Part of the answer is that it is an entirely untapped market. And these guys seem very happy to see me there. There is something different, unique, original about me and it is noticeable in that forum. So, it begs the question, am I grateful for JDate? I think I'll have to wait to answer that one.
By the way, the whole gratitude thing sort of reeks of self-help, touchy-feely, new age, icky stuff that I hate, hate, hate. That’s just how big a rut I’m in: I’ll try almost anything.
So, here's the other thing I've been trying: I've just signed on to a new internet dating site. It's the fourth one I've tried (that is scary) and I'm getting the most responses ever. In one week, I've had three dates and a fourth is pending. On those other sites, over a combined total of six or seven months of activity, I had seven dates with five different guys. Why is this site different from all other sites? Why? Because it's JDate of course. Now, talk about scary. I'm a not very observant, not very religious Jew. I was raised Reform, had a Bat Mitzvah and go to Temple on the High Holidays. I'm ambivalent about God and not enthusiastic about organized religion at all. I've only been on dates with Jewish guys, and less than a handful of those. All of my serious (whatever that means) relationships have been with non-Jewish (Christian) guys and some of them were even believers, though obviously somewhat open-minded.
I have to wonder, what am I doing on JDate? Part of the answer is that it is an entirely untapped market. And these guys seem very happy to see me there. There is something different, unique, original about me and it is noticeable in that forum. So, it begs the question, am I grateful for JDate? I think I'll have to wait to answer that one.
The first grateful entry
This is a blog about dating combined with a gratitude journal. I've been reading and hearing about gratitude journals and how they are supposed to make one feel more contented. I could really use some of that contentment as I feel dissatisfied with many aspects of my life, especially work and romance. I'm doing well on the friendship front, but I could use more. I just find a creeping undercurrent of sadness in my life and it can pop out at the most unexpected times, such as on an actually pleasant non-annoying date.
The basic idea of the gratitude journal is to write down once a day something you are grateful for. That is harder than it sounds.
Today, while I'm not in a bad mood, I'm not feeling very grateful. Well, here's something. I'm grateful that my cat let me sleep until 7am. Yes, that probably has something to do with my not terrible mood. I'm also grateful that I was really wrong about the date last night and I had a good time. The two alcoholic drinks probably helped.
I'm also grateful for my boss. He is probably the number one reason I like my job at all these days. Did I mention that I hate my job? I'm starting to fantasize about other careers, but it all feel hopeless, and I feel guilty for being so damn UNGRATEFUL because I have such a good job. It pays so well, it's so perfect for me, and it should be interesting. And, then, I go and chat with my boss for half an hour, mostly about work, which is actually enjoyable, and then not about work, which is even more enjoyable, and then I'm awfully glad I'm here because I would hate to ever have to work for anyone else.
The basic idea of the gratitude journal is to write down once a day something you are grateful for. That is harder than it sounds.
Today, while I'm not in a bad mood, I'm not feeling very grateful. Well, here's something. I'm grateful that my cat let me sleep until 7am. Yes, that probably has something to do with my not terrible mood. I'm also grateful that I was really wrong about the date last night and I had a good time. The two alcoholic drinks probably helped.
I'm also grateful for my boss. He is probably the number one reason I like my job at all these days. Did I mention that I hate my job? I'm starting to fantasize about other careers, but it all feel hopeless, and I feel guilty for being so damn UNGRATEFUL because I have such a good job. It pays so well, it's so perfect for me, and it should be interesting. And, then, I go and chat with my boss for half an hour, mostly about work, which is actually enjoyable, and then not about work, which is even more enjoyable, and then I'm awfully glad I'm here because I would hate to ever have to work for anyone else.
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