Three strikes and you're OUT!

*Sigh*

This was an eventful and emotionally draining weekend, and for a brief moment (approximately 1 hour), I gave up on match.com. But I did some thinking and I'm ready to get back out there.

So here's what happened...

Strike 1: Friday night, I had my first date with Whitey McMidwest. Oh man, over text message, he was the perfect guy. And I had really high hopes for this one because we really seemed to connect and, in his words, "it [felt] like we already [knew] each other." Our first conversation over the phone lasted for one hour! That conversation took place on Saturday, January 7th and we made plans that day to do dinner and bowling the upcoming Friday night. Each day following, Whitey texted me and we had riveting textersations. We seemed to have so much in common, including an intense love for the show, Jersey Shore. He would text me things like, "Friday couldn't come sooner" or "I can't wait to meet you" in addition to things like, "We should do this..." or "We should go there together..." Things that, as a vulnerable single woman who tends to read into things sometimes, I was weary of getting excited about.

I've been in the non-relationship before where the guy talks up all the great things we're going to do together and then dumps me for some unexplained reason (before, of course, any of those things ever happen). So in order to prevent myself from getting too excited about Whitey, I continuously responded to his comments of "We should..." with, "We'll have to see how Friday goes!" No one wants to set themselves up for disappointment. I've done it before and I am learning not to read into everything a guy says.

So, with that in mind, we meet for our date Friday night. We enjoy a nice dinner and split a bottle of wine. We have great conversation - talk, laugh, learn about each other. It's nice. I feel like it's going well. After dinner, we head to the bowling alley and we bowl two games. When our games are over, he suggests we hang out in the bar where karaoke is about to begin. We are having a fantastic time. He doesn't appear to be bored nor disgusted with me as a person. Phew! Then, nearly five hours after it began, we finally decide to end the date. As we walk out, he gives me a small kiss on the lips, tells me he had a great time, and that he'll call me. I leave feeling excited and optomistic. I am even more optomistic when he texts me to tell me he's excited to do all those things we had talked about doing "after Friday." I smile as I fall asleep.

Fast-forward to the weekend. I do not hear from him. I become Crazy. I am even crying at some points because I do not understand WTF is going on. Three days go by and I finally hear from him on Monday evening when I get this text: "I've been doing some thinking and I just don't think we're a good match after all. I've had fun getting to know you and wish you the best of luck!" Don't cry for me because here's the honest truth: when he didn't call me for three days, I already knew that that was the text I'd be getting. It's called Women's Intuition and it involves the sick feeling you get in your stomach when you know something isn't going right. Ladies, DO NOT IGNORE THIS FEELING! It is real! No, something didn't happen to his phone. No, he's not just busy with his buddies. No, he didn't die suddenly. No no no. He is just not that into you (even though the guy who wrote that book is an asshole, he's right!) And only God knows the reason why he's not into you. But don't obsess over that either. Just do what you can to overcome the Crazy, and then move on.

So after a few tears shed - not over a simple white guy from the midwest, but over the disappointment of another lost possibility of finding love - that's exactly what I did. I moved on. Final vote, obviously: bud.

Strike two: I went on a first date with Foody McGradSchool on Saturday afternoon. I was not feeling nearly the connection with Foody that I did with Whitey, but who am I to turn down a free meal, right? I broke my first date rule and agreed to let him pick me up because he was driving all the way down to Sunnyvale from San Bruno. I found this guy interesting because he had a very positive outlook on life and he seemed to be really spiritually centered. I find that attractive, as long as it isn't too in-your-face. When this guy picked me up, I'll admit that he definitely looked like he did in his profile pictures, except for the fact that he was probably 100 times skinnier. I have actually never seen a skinnier man in my life. He was a beanpole. When he turned sideways, he disappeared. I felt like a giant beast next to this guy.

Other than his lack of body fat, I found him to be attractive and genuinely nice. We drove to a local Mexican restaurant. He had a white Acura with Dr. Dre playing on the stereo and it was at this moment that some things he had said in previous conversations ("I grew up in parts of Daly City and Vistacion Valley, near Hunter's Point," and "Growing up in the projects..." - btw, this is the whitest guy you've ever seen) caused me to realize that this guy is San Francisco's Slim Shady. He even had the ghetto driving swagger down, with the seat tilted back, extreme lean to the right, resting practically the entire right side of his body on the center console (which, btw, put his head about two inches from mine), and just one arm - his left one - draped loosely over the steering wheel. Man, this guy really IS from the projects, I thought. Oh, and did I mention that he was practically sagging his jeans all the way down to his thighs? I could not tell if he was going for the gangsta style or if he simply couldn't keep his pants up on his 25-inch waist.

At the restaurant, we enjoy a lovely meal and talk about many things, including how we are both really, really RIDICULOUSLY good at Words with Friends. So he asks me what my user name is and we have been playing since that afternoon (I am beating him). We even have a candid conversation about what it's like to be on match.com, dating multiple people at once, etc. I like how honest our conversation is. After lunch, he drives me back to my place, gives me a hug, and we say our goodbyes. Overall, no sparks, but a nice date. Final vote: bud.

Strike three: As you may recall, this weekend I was supposed to have Date #3 with Flaky McTallGuy. Well, guess what? Yep, that's right - he flaked. I had pretty much decided I was over him by midweek when I hadn't heard from him. Then, Wednesday night, he sent me a message. We texted back and forth for a bit until he finally asked, "What time on Saturday?" I told him anytime after 5pm. "I have plans at 7," he texts back. "What about Sunday?" Seriously!? Ugh, this is the flakiest guy I have ever met! I agreed to Sunday even though I was thinking, "You are a loser and I am done with you." A couple of days go by until he texts, then calls me at approximately 11:30pm on Saturday night. I had just arrived home from my date with Whitey. He shoots the shit for a bit until I start yawning. Sorry dude, but I am exhausted and have to get up hella early for Saturday morning triathlon practice. He tells me he has some ideas for what we'll do on Sunday and that he'll call to finalize plans. "Ok, sounds good. Good night."

Flaky seems to know when I am on a date with another guy because that always seems to be the time he calls or texts. So just as my date with Foody is ending on Saturday afternoon, I get a call from Flaky. I don't answer, of course, but listen to the voicemail when I get home." I am not surprised by what it says: "Hi Natalie... I've been thinking about things for a couple of days now and I feel like there's sort of a friend vibe coming down and I don't know if it's just bad timing for me or what, but I think you're a great girl and blah blah blah..." And then, at the end of the message, he says, "So let me know your thoughts." REALLY!? What, like I'm going to call you back and say, "NO! There's no friend vibe! You must take me out on Sunday!?" Whatever dude. I texted him back to say, "I agree" and told him to have a good life. But what I really wanted to say was: 1) grow a pair and don't leave something like that on a voicemail; 2) I think you might be gay (for real, I need to figure out how to post a snippet of a voicemail); and 3) learn how to manage your schedule so you aren't so flaky, you bonehead. But I decided to be nice. This time. he did text me back saying, "You are smart, funny, and have a lot going for you. Take care." Barf. Final vote: bud.

So now you might be thinking - well, three strikes and you're out, right? That is EXACTLY what I was thinking. For a second, I was totally down in the dumps. I wanted to give up on dating, give up on men altogether. BUT THEN... Blondie McSmartyPants gave me some good advice. After showing me an excerpt from a book she's planning to read (My Half Orange by Amy Spencer, which I will be reading as well), she decided that our problem is not that we can't find the men of our dreams, but that we're not putting all of our effort into attracting them. And she's right. I've got to focus on what I really want and use the power of optismism to attract Mr. Right. It WILL happen, I just know it.

Bud or stud? That is the question...

It's the post you've all been waiting for! Last night I had Date #2 with Flaky McTallGuy. He's still tall, but I am considering a new first name nickname because he ain't so flaky anymore! He has totally redeemed himself.

We met in downtown Mountain View at a Chinese Restaurant that he chose, which ended up being super tasty - but, honestly, I am not one to judge when it comes to food. Actually, let me rewind for a second and tell you why he chose the restaurant. This is a good story.

It's mid-December, phone call #1 and we are setting up date #1. "Where should we meet?" I ask him. "Well, I'll let you make some suggestions... I'm not really a 'traditional' guy who has to make all the decisions for the couple," he says. I ponder this for a moment. Then, I am not quite sure where I get the balls, but I reply with: "Or you could just be a man and pick a place..." Yikes! I cannot stop myself from saying it and I regret it the instant it comes out. Where is the "Smart Ass ON/OFF button when I need it? I think for sure that it's going to be the end of our conversation, but he just laughs and says, "OK, I'll see what I can come up with."

Then, on date #1, he brings up the conversation! He's like, "Hey remember when you told me to be a man and pick a restaurant?" I giggle nervously. "I like that you did that. Sometimes I need to be put in my place."

Holy. Shiznit.

So, after passing the smart-ass test with Flaky, I felt really hopeful about this relationship. And after last night's date... I am feeling even more hopeful. Again, we had good conversation, he laughed at my jokes, and we even had some awkwardly serious discussions. There are many things about our dates that tend to be awkward - like when we went to leave and I had to tap the guy sitting behind me on the shoulder to ask him to get up and move his chair because he was sitting on my jacket - but I kind of like that because it keeps things interesting. Even though at this point he feels more like a "bud" than a "stud," I'm going to continue seeing him because I think there is potential for growth here. Perhaps Date #3 on Saturday will be the defining moment in our relationship. Will he finally cross that line from bud to stud? Will he be The One? Or at least The One For Now? We shall see.

Current vote: Bud, teetering on the edge of stud.

breaking up is hard to do

I broke up with Funny McJokester today. I had to do it. He picked me up for our date last night and as soon as I closed the door to the car, you could cut the tension with a knife. I think maybe after I had lectured him about liking me too much, he decided he was going to be Mr. Plays-it-Cool Guy. And Mr. Plays-it-Cool Guy is even more annoying than Mr. Likes-me-too-much. It felt like a scene out of a really bad movie: he had Bruce Springsteen on the radio, he was chomping on a piece of gum, and driving like an idiot, holding his cell phone in one hand and barely hanging on to the steering wheel with the other. Every now and then (cuz cool guys do this), he would sing along, loudly, to the lyrics of the song.

When we finally arrived at our destination (after I had to tell him which exit to take and where to park), I asked him if he had seen the restaurant as we drove past - just to get a sense of where we were going. "Nah," he said, too cool to bother. So as we're walking, there are two girls coming toward us and he shouts, "Excuse me ladies, do you know where X Restaurant is?" One girl starts to answer immediately. I look at her and I recognize her - it's my friend Haircut Girl, who works at the salon around the corner. I grab her arm to get her attention. She squeals! We hug and catch up for a few seconds. I realize at that moment that I am embarassed to be seen in public with this guy. I do a quick introduction, she gives us directions, and then I tell haircut girl I'll call her. Ugh. He makes no comment about me running into harcut girl. Instead, he is whistling - loudly - the last Springsteen song that was on the radio.

So at the restaurant, he is cracking lame, sarcastic jokes left and right and making comments about me "wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible." Little does he know... it is no joke. He is right. At one point, the manager comes by and asks how our food is. "It's terrible!" he shouts. "Wah ah ah ah!" (Big, annoying belly laugh). The manager looks horrified. "I'm just kidding," he wails again. She rolls her eyes and walks away. He turns to me: "You probably thought that was annoying?" "Yup," I say.

On the drive home, he made comments about marrying me. Jokes, I am sure, but who knows? When he dropped me off, he didn't bother getting out of his car (even after he had chided me just minutes earlier for not reaching over and unlocking the door for him after I got in the car. Who doesn't have a door unlocking clicker these days? I'm sorry, is it 1961?), so I reached over and gave him a hug. "Thanks for dinner," I said. The entire date - door to door - lasted approximately one hour and thirty minutes. When I made it safely into my house, I was certain that I had dodged a bullet with that guy, and that I would never hear from him again.

But then...! I received this text this morning: "Thanks again for a really nice time last night" DID YOU JUST ROLL YOUR EYES AT HIM!? OMG, I wanted to shout. Get a clue! But I didn't. Instead, I sent him a nice text back breaking up with him. "I just don't feel like the connection is there and I would hate to lead you on," I wrote.

His response: "ha ha ha ok" Ummmmm... yeah. Contact delete. Final, FINAL vote: Dud

On a happier note... literally, on the night that I was about to write him off, Flaky McTallGuy finally called me. I hadn't heard from him in four days (but who's counting), and he left me a voicemail apologizing for being so flaky. He had family in town, was busy with the holidays, etc. It seemed like a valid excuse and it was super cute when he said, "If you're still talking to me, give me a call back." So I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. I called him back, we chatted, and now we have a date set for Sunday night. I am excited for this one. There is real stud potentional here. I might have to change his nickname if he pulls through on Sunday. Date deets early next week! Current vote: Stud

So many duds, so little studs

I've been match.coming for about a month now, so I have a list of duds to write about. I am crossing my fingers that some studs will appear, but it's not looking so hopeful...

So the first date I went on was with BoringMcAfrican. Straight up, this guy was a DUD. We met at Starbucks and I yawned at least three times. While maybe it's because this date took place over a month ago, I simply cannot think of a single thing he said. No, I take that back! I do remember that he was from some unpronounceable country in Africa. He was good looking enough, but I fell asleep almost immediately after sitting down - and I was drinking caffeinated coffee! I bounced out of there ASAP (I said I had somewhere to be at 7pm) and I even managed to convince him NOT to walk me to my car. The best part: he emailed me a couple of days later and said, "I am not sure if we are a good match." REALLY? So I emailed him back and said, "I agree. You were way too boring for me." He never wrote back. Final vote: Dud

Next was Stalky McLuver. I really liked him at first. We met at a Vietnamese restaurant for Pho and had good conversation. There were two issues, though. 1) whenever I made jokes, he seemed to be laughing at me rather than with me. I felt a little bit like a circus freak or the court jester, like my soul purpose in his life was to entertain him and make him laugh. "Silly girl, do it again!" 2) He did not pay for dinner. When the bill came, it sat there for a while until I awkwardly said, "Should we split it?" "Yeah, yeah, that sounds good," he said. I begrudgingly pulled out my Visa card. So much for a free meal.

Things got really awkward on our second date. I decided to give him a second chance, despite the above-mentioned problems. So for date #2, we went to a wine bar on a rainy night and shared a bottle of wine. After about ten minutes, he inched as close to me as possible and then picked up my hand to hold it. Romantic? Maybe it should have been. But it was not. He continuously touched me, rubbed my legs, arms, hands, shoulders, neck, back. It was creepy. After the date (I had to cut it short because I was dog-sitting and needed to walk the dog), as he walked me to my car, he stopped me near a parking garage and kissed me with way-too-intense passion. I pulled away and told him I had to go. He pulled me closer. So I had no choice but to tug him in the direction of my car. Awkward goodbye kiss.

Even though my vajajay was telling me he was not the guy for me, I decided to give him one more chance. I figured if he liked me that much, I should try to like him back. Big mistake. Huge. So there was one major issue that was really bothering me about him, other than the fact that he practically molested me on our wine date. Every text message he sent me started or ended with "luv". "Hey luv, hope you're having a fantastic day." "Don't worry, luv, you can call me later." "Thanks, luv." Is it a term of endearment? Sure. Should he already have one for me after knowing me for two weeks? I don't think so.

So the next time I see him it's Christmas Eve. I told him I had to literally "squeeze him in" if he wanted to see me. He didn't seem to mind. We met for coffee at a Starbucks in my 'hood, next to the Borders where I was thinking of doing some Christmas shopping. I bought my own coffee cuz he was late. I was hoping he wouldn't show up. He showed up. Ugh. After I finished my coffee (he didn't get any. He prefered to just sit next to me and stare into my enticingly beautiful brown eyes), he suggested we walk around the complex. So we took a stroll around the complex, which included a grassy area that led to some apartments. I told him we had ten minutes to walk because I needed to get going on my Christmas shopping. When we got to the grassy area, he pulled me aside for another aggressive kiss. I knew right then that I wasn't into him. I pulled away and told him I had to go and squirmed my way to my car, but not before he stopped me, looked into my eyes and said, "I'm falling for you." WHAT!? YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW ME! I said nothing. He also said, "I'm going to miss you." (he was leaving for Houston a couple of days later), "are you going to miss me?" "Suuuuure," I said. Then I got in my car and drove away.

I knew I had to reject him, but I felt bad. So after a couple of days, I sent him a message telling him that while I think he's great, I just don't think he's the one for me. Luckily, he took it well and I have not received a text message with the word "luv" in it ever since. Except from Franny. Final vote: Bud

I'll end this post with one more date: Flaky McTallGuy. I really had high hopes for Flaky. He was tall, smart, funny (he laughed with me and not at me), well-educated (went to Dartmouth), and even a little dorky, which is perfect for me. He had lived in a LA for a while and worked as a reality TV blog writer, which I thought was super cool. He was definitely a man after my own heart. Our date took place about a week before Christmas. We ate Sushi, had great conversation, and he PAID. Yes! Finally a free meal! And he walked me to my car afterwards. He asked me if I had a good time and if I wanted to do it again. I said, "Yes!" He said he would call me and gave me the tiniest little kiss on the lips. I knew he was leaving for New York a couple of days later, so I didn't expect a second date to happen before he left. But he did call and text me a few times, which made me think that he was still interested. Am I wrong to assume that?

He left for New York and texted me throughout the holiday - sent me a picture of his parents' house covered in snow, texted me updates about his return date (he was delayed two days because of airport closures), etc. But when he returned, he scheduled two "potential" dates with me, then canceled both times, claiming he was tired or busy. On New Year's Eve he sent me this text: "Sorry I have been no fun lately! Hope you have a great night tonight." Ummmm, ok, what does that mean? I haven't heard from him since. I am bummed because I thought he was a good match for me. But I guess maybe to him I was just a bud? Oh well, on to the next! Final vote: Bud