Thursday, April 9, 2009

It's so hard to say good-bye...

I've been contemplating the fate of this blog. My birthday was last week, which technically makes me ineligible to be 31derful any longer. I haven't come up with anything good for 32 yet. The only thing I can think of is 32-lowitzski, which is the name of the short stop for the Colorado Rockies. It doesn't have quite the same ring. Any ideas?

I've enjoyed sharing my dating stories with you and I wish I could tell you that they've ceased. The update on Indiana is that we dated for almost four months, but I learned that you don't really know someone until you see how he faces and deals with conflict. His passive aggressive/game-playing style differs significantly from my own. I couldn't navigate through his sarcasm and it really turned me off. So, that is over and I think I might just take a break from dating for awhile. It doesn't seem worth it right now. Someone always gets hurt. I don't want to be the hurt-ee or the hurt-er. No one does, right?

Oh, remember Colt? The one who joined me for a business meeting that really seemed more like a date? Well, I recently found out that not only does he have a girlfriend, but actually she is his FIANCE. What a dog. Sheesh.

So, this is my intention for the universe, God, and everyone to hear. I would like nothing more in life than to find my life partner. I'd like to find the one who gives me butterflies, a sense of security, shares my values, playfully teases me, likes to have fun, is athletic, and has his act together. I also need to take time to heal from a year that provided amusing dates, but was also a tumultuous emotional roller coaster. That might be slightly redundant (tumultuous and emotional), but I think it's apropos anyhow.

Thank you very much for reading, commenting, and supporting me. I hope you enjoyed it. Please wish me luck in my future endeavors. I'll leave you with a paraphrase of the final written words of Christopher McCandless, the college-aged kid who decided to shun society and isolate himself in Alaska (as told via the book or movie Into the Wild)...."True happiness is only achieved when shared with others." I agree wholeheartedly. May we all find that person with whom we may share that genuine happiness.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Double Date

I highly recommend the following: 2 dates in one night!!!

It worked out perfectly and the best part....I only had to get ready one time!

My first date was happy hour with Chad. We met at a swanky hotel bar downtown. He showed up bearing a gift. It was a pink fanny pack purchased at a knock-off store and still sporting the price tag. I cracked up. Great way to break the ice for a blind date! I had two vodka sodas there and then said I needed to go to dinner to meet up with a guy who is helping me network for work. No questions asked. It worked perfectly!

Well, I showed up to dinner, already fairly tipsy, and at that time remembered that this guy is a Sommelier, aka wine expert. So I'll have to drink at least a glass, if not two, of wine. Oops, that was the part I didn't plan for...and I really wasn't planning on getting drunk on a Monday night.

Well, a delicious seafood dinner and two full glasses of red wine later we decide it's time to call it a night. Thank god. I'm definitely drunk at this point and trying hard to fake sobriety. I'm pretty sure there was a kiss goodnight and off I was home to my place, alone, but satisfied from a full night of dating!

If you are confused about the time line here, I'll just say, that this evening occurred in the very beginning stages of my interaction with Indiana, whom I also told that night that I had networking events to attend. It WAS networking, after all, just not the work-related kind!

Monday, March 9, 2009

Vocabulary is sexy....

Indiana has used the words 'culpable' and 'nebulous' in a sentence AND... has used them correctly. He also knows the difference between 'further' and 'farther.' His magazine subscriptions include Runner's World and The Economist. He always opens my door and thinks the world of his mom. He knows when to tease and when to empathize.

I could really have something here....

:)

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Pillow Talk

This following happened several weeks ago...aka, prior to Valentine's Day.

I'm in a pool of bachelorettes for a matchmaking service. This is separate from the It's Just Lunch dates. The woman who owns the matchmaking service works for the men. They pay her about $3K to essentially find them a mate. So I'm in her pool of potentials 'mates.'

She'd been trying for weeks to set me up with Jon. Between my travel schedule and his work schedule, we were having issues meeting up for our first date, when it finally dawned on her that he owns a business at the airport (my second home), so why don't we meet up there? Perfect! I was landing at 3PM on Wednesday of that week. 'He'll meet you at your gate,' Miss Matchmaker said.

My flight home was a short one...a little over an hour. Apparently I was quite tired that day because I fell asleep before the wheels even left the ground and slept so hard that I had to actually lift up the window shade to see if we had landed. In a complete daze, I tried to wake myself up knowing that Prince Charming Potential was going to be right there at the gate. I was sooo out of it, though, still completely in la-la, dreamland. I checked myself out in my compact mirror and while I was relieved not to have any makeup under my eyes (god bless smudge proof mascara), I did have very prominent pillow marks engraved in my face. If anyone has an instant cure for these, please let me know, because I had no idea how to get rid of them in a pinch.

So I walk off the plane and instantly spot Jon. I walk up to him, flash as peppy of a smile as I can, and introduce myself. He hugs and kisses, yes, kisses me on the lips. I mean it was only a little peck, but still, kinda forward! And it only added to sleep-induced confusion, but he took my bag for me and handed me a gift certificate to his store. 'Wow, this is great,' I thought. I liked the personal concierge service.

I own up to my hard core snooze...difficult to deny with pillow marks illuminating my face and he says, 'Ya, you look a little tired.' Well, that's fabulous, I thought. Anyhoo...I politely excused myself to the ladies' room, freshened up, and then we made our way to the main terminal for some tea.

It was a pleasant date and I'll go out with him again. Next time, I'll be sure that it's not approximately 2.3 minutes after I wake up!

Monday, February 16, 2009

A picture speaks a thousand words...


While I usually do not shy away from details, I'm going to be a bit aloof on this post. I'll just say that I had one of the best, if not THE best Valentine's Days ever. The photo you see is what greeted me when I arrived at my date's house on Saturday night. He cooked dinner for me and had the items you see, including a stuffed bear holding a heart that said, 'Be Mine,' a lit candle, cherry-flavored Hershey kisses, a really, really sweet card, and a dozen long stem, de-thorned, red roses, sitting on the already set dining room table. Yesssss, it was very, very sweet and nice. I'll call him my Valentine any day.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

The morning after....

So I wake up the morning after the vomiting at about 7:30. I'm laying in bed with my hands on my forehead, both easing the pain of the slight headache I have and just cringing in embarrassment about what had happened the night before. I'm rehearsing the contrite voicemail I'm going to leave him sometime soon.

As I'm laying there my door bell buzzes and I immediately blame the FedEx man for disturbing me so early. There's no way I'm getting up. He rings the bell AGAIN. I'm completely annoyed at this point, so I get up and look out the window. No FedEx truck, no UPS truck either. Maybe one of my neighbors is locked out. So I push the button to talk and in a highly irritated voice I ask, 'Who is it??!!' A male voice responds, '31derful, it's Indiana.' OMG!!! What is he doing here??? Did he sleep in his car?? He'd had quite a few adult beverages too. And wasn't it enough that he heard me puke? Now he has to see me with mascara smeared under my eyes, unbrushed teeth, and wearing boxers and a ratty (but oh-so comfortable) tank top? This was only getting worse.

Well, I let him in and he starts saying something, but I shush him and say, 'Gimme a sec, K?' I make a quick dash to do a 30 second clean-up and get dressed effort and walk back out in the living room.

'I didn't come over to stay. I shouldn't have left last night,' he says.

'Oh no,' I say, 'You definitely should have left last night.'

'No, I left and then I was really worried about you. What if you got back in bed, got sick again in your sleep, and choked?! I tried to call your phone, but it was off, so...I didn't come over to stay, I just needed to make sure you were all right.'

Wow, seriously? How sweet is that? Indiana scored some huge points. He gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek and true to his word, he left shortly after. Then he sent me a friend request on Facebook later that morning. I guess he and I both survived my too-much-to-drink-debacle. Phew, that was a close one!

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

"I really like making out with you, but I feel a little nauseous."

So remember Indiana? The guy from NYE whom I thought blew me off, but really didn't? Well, we went out again about a week later. It was a fabulous night, but let's just say not one of my most shining moments! Read on to experience my embarrassment...



He picked me up around 6:30 and we went for Indian food. Neither one of us was in the mood to drink as we'd both had our fill over the weekend. So, okay, we plan to order water or ice tea, at least that was the plan...We sit down and see the beer menu staring at us, calling to us, and so we both order India beers. Who are we to deny the full ethnic experience, right? It's at least a half an hour before we even look at the menus. We're talk, talk, talking about all kinds of things...and not just general things...rather things that actually matter like the kind of relationship we have with our parents and how no one over the age of 9 should wear Croc's.



We finally order food and another round of drinks. I'm having a great time and really enjoying his company. It's just really easy being with him.



We leave dinner. He refused to let me pay and we start discussing where to next. "Should we try to think of a non-drinking activity?" I asked. "Like Starbucks?" he replied. "Sure," I said. "Well, we could go to Starbucks, but we did already START drinking, so maybe we should just keep rolling with it." I quickly agreed. I'm very agreeable when I'm flirting.



I then have the oh-so-fabulous idea to try this new bar which serves Belgian beers. Little do I make the connection that Belgian beers are HIGH OCTANE - like two for one kind of deal. We belly up to the bar, I taste a few and decide on one that had approximately 9% alcohol content. We laugh and talk and even danced around a little bit and consumed two more beers a piece at this place. It was turning into a really fun evening.



We leave the Belgian bar and head for my place. I asked if he wanted to come in and he said sure. He's a runner like I am and had just bought a foam roller which can be used to stretch your legs, glutes, back, etc. It's awesome. I highly recommend it. Anyhow, we start drinking red wine and rolling all over the floor on my foam rollers. I have two. Before you know it, we're kind of snuggling/kissing on the living room floor. 'This date is going so great! I'm having a blast with this guy,' I happily thought. My stomach, however, had alterior and evil motives...



Allow me to briefly make the disclaimer that while I don't drink all that frequently anymore, I can hold my alcohol. I went to a Big Ten school and along with Calculus learned how not to be the girl whose hair you have to hold back while she gets sick on the dance floor in the middle of the bar.



That said, as Indiana and I are romantically laying on the floor, all of a sudden, my stomach urgently decides that it disagrees with this situation. "Um, Indiana, I really like making out with you, but I think I'm gonna be nauseous." I get up, briskly walk to my bathroom which is only ten feet away from the living room, shut the door, and totally barf. It was awful. I wanted to lock the doors, break a window, and jump out. I wanted to absolutely DIE. I was MORTIFIED. The entire time I dated Mr. Wrong, I only got sick once and made him leave his own house, to ensure that he would not hear the sexy noises I make as vomit escapes my mouth. Indiana completely heard it because the bathroom proximity to my living room does not work in my favor.



After brushing my teeth and gathering a lot of courage, I finally vacated the bathroom and couldn't even look him in the face. "Maybe I should go," he mumbled a bit. "Yeesss, that's probably a good idea. Indiana, I'm so embarrassed, I just don't even know what to say. I swear to god that I'm not that girl who can't hold her liquor." He seemed to think it was no big deal, gave me a gentle hug, a kiss on the cheek, and headed out the door. Immediately as the door closed I had to run, yes, run back to the bathroom, to get sick yet again.



Oh my god...I put a note in my Blackberry to call AA in the morning to get a list of alcohol-free activities you can do for dates...not that I'll ever have one again with Indiana. Sheesh....