I'm a Girl, and I'm Allowed to Have Butterflies.

The Girly Man had no excuse for the "butterflies in my tummy" comment, but I would argue that it's a totally different story when the little bastards are flitting around in mine. I'm a girl. I overthink stuff, especially when it comes to dating, but about other things too.

When I have a crush (to use 7th grade language), I simultaneously love and hate the way it makes me feel (Nervous AND excited. Eeks.) And then I go into massive overthinking mode, where I think I said something a little bit wrong via text message, or I forgot to emoticon it so my tone didn't come off exactly right, and he's probably mad at me now. ("He" is the universal he...Not a particular one, I'm guilty of this type of overthinking pretty much any time I let myself get even the slightest bit emotionally involved.)

So I literally run myself ragged (in my head) until it gets cleared up, which it almost always does, and then I feel stupid for a second, then happy that it's all fine. That is, happy and fine until the next time it takes 3 hours to return a message, even though I KNOW he's busy with whatever task is happening that particular day, and maybe, oh just maybe, my stupid little text message isn't as important as the task. At least not right that second.

Sigh.

I'd like to say that one of these days, I'm going to learn how to not let the emotions creep in, at least not right away. But I think as women, we're hard-wired such that our emotions define are who we are at that particular moment in time. I know that I'm a totally different personality when I'm calm, cool, and relaxed, but there's another girl that comes out of the woodwork when I'm stressed and anxious. It's like a light switch--fine one second, then freaking out (internally, anyway), the next.

This is the thing that's really interesting about me. Most people who know me think I'm pretty collected the majority of the time. Those who know me well can probably see glimmers of the other me from time to time, but on the surface, I think I usually look pretty much fine. It's a tough battle to wage when the world expects that level-headed person most of the time...especially on the days when I don't really feel like I have my act together, and guess what, I might not have it together tomorrow either.

I get anxious about new relationships. I get anxious about money (mostly because I never have that much). I get anxious about work. (See "anxious about money" as a reference here. Ha.)

There are effing nervous butterflies in my stomach all the time, and it sucks. Calm | Cool | Collected?? Not always.

Are you following me yet? I know for a fact that more than 15 people read this! If not for me, do it for the poor butterflies. :)

PS: Not totally related, but this happens to be one of my favorite songs. Seemed appropriate, given the post's title.

A Note about Me

Let's get something straight, okay? This blog is nothing more than a creative outlet for ME, and I happen to share it with other people. Under no circumstances do I intend anything I write to be malicious, harmful, spiteful, or just plain mean. I try to keep it light, fun, and entertaining. I like to describe things so that you might feel that you are part of the experience with me. You wanna live vicariously though my words? Be my guest!
I just like to write, and luckily, my life is often entertaining enough that I can spin some awkward situations into pretty damn entertaining story lines.

It's come to my attention that some people are feeling a bit...uhhh...unhappy with a recent post. I've taken that into consideration and appropriately adjusted my wording in order to alleviate any ill feelings that have happened and to avoid any potential future conflicts. Or at least, I've taken my best shot to do so.

Please understand one thing: I am one of the most trustworthy and respectful people you would ever meet, and so I take it very personally when someone I care about (in whatever way that might be...friendships, romances, family members, etc.) feels injured or upset by something I have done. I do what I can to set the situation right, and to avoid repeating the same thing in the future. I hesitate to say "repeating the same mistake" because that indicates I've done something wrong, which in this case, I have not.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving, and please, take a minute this week to be thankful for the things that truly matter in your life.

Empire State of Mind...Or Not?

It's official--I am FINALLY no longer a New York City virgin. I just got home from my first trip to the Big Apple...minus the one I took when I was like 8 with my parents, but does that really even count since I can't remember much?

What with this being a work trip, I didn't get to venture to as many parts of Manhattan as I would have liked, but I definitely brought home a few stories and an awesome bruise on my right thigh as souvenirs.

My hotel was just about a half block off of Times Square, so there was plenty to see and do in a very small area. My first experience of the square happened just after the sun had gone down on Saturday night. Now, I am not an easily overwhelmed person and I can generally handle new situations without looking like a lost and confused puppy. But when I stepped onto Times Square at 5:30pm on Saturday night, I was in complete sensory overload. The throngs of people were crushing, loud, and fast. It was basically a sea of faces, none of which I had time to register in my head. Add that to the flashing lights coming from every angle, and random street vendors trying to get your attention ("You like comedy? Miss! Miss! You should come to our show!"), and I couldn't keep my focus to save my life. (Nevermind the nasty head cold I was fighting...that certainly didn't help with the fog in my head.)

Mind you, at this point in time, it's just me and a friend. (Yes, just a friend. I have lots of them.) My friend is familiar with the city, and decided that he would show me around a bit. We had dinner reservations at 7:30, but I was hungry and so we stopped in some little pub for a drink and an appetizer.

Fast forward through dinner, and this is where the catastrophe happens. After dinner, we decided to check out the square a bit more and came across a dueling piano bar. It was on a side street, and to get to the bar, you had to manuever down a flight of dark stairs into a basement. Here's your equation:

New Heels + Rubber-Coated Stairs

=

Disaster

Yes, my right heel slipped out of my shoe, caught my stiletto on the corner of a rubber freakin' step, and I tumbled down about 4 stairs. I imagine I looked a bit like a rag doll as I flopped my way down--not nearly as graceful as a slinkly would have executed it's descent. The contents of my purse went flying and it took me a good couple of minutes to get up and shake it off. My reward was the giant bruise on my right thigh. (It's now varying shades of purple and red. Fancy.)

                                      

If you aren't snorting coffee out your nose by now, then you must be dead inside. Ha!

Night One in NYC: Big Apple-1, Me-0.

The rest of the trip was basically without incident. I was working a trade show (yes, I was sober and on my A-game for the working portion of the trip), and it went quite well. I did manage to squeeze in a little more fun on Monday night, as I was off on Tuesday and didn't fly home until later in the evening.

On Monday at the show, our neighbors across the aisle at the Samsung booth finally introduced themselves, and I found myself invited to their VIP customer party that evening. As I was already planning to meet up with the Mistress of NYC, I thought that an open-bar party would be a decent way to kick off our evening. We headed to the Time Warner Shops (way cool building, by the way), and met up with my new friends from Samsung. The bartenders had a heavy hand, which made watching the 3D televisions even more fun.

After the party, we caught the subway (being the big city girl that I am) and headed down to the West Village for a cabaret show. It. Was. Awesome. The guys on stage were so incredibley talented! And did I mention that another of my new friends from the show joined us? A tall, dark, and handsome fellow from Chicago who approached me at the booth, pretending to have a question about the products, but who really just wanted to ask for my number. Smooth.

Our evening progressed to a rooftop bar in the village, which had some pretty awesome views of the city, then finally back towards the square. The evening concluded at a dive bar where the guy whose booth we stole immediately began puking on the floor. Keep it classy, NYC.

My final assessment of the big city is that I was not as enamored by it as many people seem to be. I was very happy to get back to Cincinnati and to sleep in my own bed with my dogs. I've been to a lot of cities throughout the country, and I can definitely say that New York is not (yet) on my list of places I would move. Maybe next time I'll get to see more of the neighborhoods and my mind will be changed.

But for now, I'll keep my shenanigans in Cincinnati, thankyouverymuch.

Revival of the Dating Experiment? And Yet Another Fun Date Story.

Ahhh yes. The dating experiment. The one that lasted for about three weeks before my pool of eligible bachelors dried up and my "one date a week" goal died before it even got its legs. A very sad story, if I do say so myself.

I've actually been on a couple dates in the last month or so, but I haven't written much about them. Let's discuss The Girly Man. We haven't talked about him yet. Ohhh, TGM.

He was a Match.com guy who lives in the area near where I work. That's fine, I'm there every day, so it's not like the distance was too far. We emailed a bit, then exchanged numbers, did the text dating thing, and finally set up a happy hour time to meet. I knew from his pictures that he was pretty cute, and from his profile and our emails, I knew that he had a steady, stable job, his own house, and dogs. So far so good.

We met at a restaurant, where of course I arrived early and got a glass of wine (What up, happy hour! $2.50 for a very generous pour? Yes please!). He arrived, awkwardly hugged me when I stood up (I'm a hugger, not a hand-shaker), and sat down next to me at the bar. The bartender came over and he ordered.............a glass of water. I took a big slug of my wine.

A few minutes later, we decided on a couple of appetizers and he decided to go ahead and order a big boy drink. He ordered.............a Michelob ULTRA. Oh yes, not a less wimpy beer like a Sam Adams, or a Stella, or a Miller Lite. No, a Mich Ultra. Was this red flag #2? No matter for this spinster, I stuck it out.

The evening went along fine, conversation was fine and not all that awkward. He walked me to my car, gave me an awkward hug, and we went on our merry ways. To be fair, his pictures were relatively accurate, so I can't complain about that. Cute, but not hot. And he was a genuinely nice guy, really.

Another series of texting began, during which time he proceeded to call me "sweet" several times. I've been accused of being a lot of things but for the love of GOD, I am not sweet. Not a sweetheart, not a sweetie, not anything that sounds remotely sugary. I'm more of a smartass, a sarcastic little bugger who can occasionally be somewhat thoughtful. I. Am. Not. Sweet. Little girls with curly blonde pigtails and blue eyes are sweet.

No matter, I thought to myself. Why certainly I'll go out with him again! Which I did, the following weekend. I happened to be in his neck of the woods again, so I casually invited him to meet me at a party that evening. The party turned into a night on the town, and if my beer goggles calculated correctly, he consumed a total of.....TWO MICH ULTRAS. I consumed a total of all of the alcohol in Dayton.

But surely it has to get better than this, I thought. I can't quite remember, but I think it was actually the very next day, a Sunday, where I had placed myself firmly at my fave pub with my crew for Sunday football. It took some arm-twisting, but I dragged my hungover ass out in public and proceeded to spend the next 19 hours or so drinking with my buddies. (Fine, maybe 17 hours, whatever.) Which of course seemed like the perfect time to invite TGM to stop by.

In all honesty, I really just wanted to see how the guy would react to the situation. Here I am, in the middle of about five drunk, rowdy, not-very-small dudes. He showed up, someone bought him a real beer, and that was all he had. One beer. One tiny little beer.

We said good night.

I was headed out to Vegas shortly after that, but he did send me a few texts in the meantime. One of them said something like this:

"My tummy still tingles when my text message goes off and I think it might be you."

YOUR TUMMY TINGLES? That little blonde haired girl referenced above called, she wants her dialect back.

Another one went like this:

"I hope you're having a good night! TGM misses you!" Yeah, that's him, speaking in the third person.

CincySingleton thinks that was the last straw.

TGM made a few more attempts to get in touch after I got back from Vegas, but I had to let him go. Real men don't drink Mich Ultra and say "my tummy tingles." Unless they are drinking Mich Ultra at a tea party with tiny plastic mugs and their pinky fingers extended.

                       


Anyway, the dating experiment might be back on track. We'll see. I have a few suitors on deck for next week after I get back from NYC, where I will be visiting for work, but also catching up with my fellow blogger from the open post below. Her shiny new blog can be found by clicking here. One of the suitors is Puerto Rican, and has an accent, and as you may already know, I am a sucker for accents.

As always, do two things for me. Go right, click follow, then share share share. And then email me if you have your own story.

DRUM ROLL PLEASE! An Open Post from My First Guest Blogger!

Meet the Mistress of New York City. A transplant who has put her roots down over the last couple of years and has recently delved into the deep dark caves of the dating underworld. Please help me welcome her as she submits her first post! Her own new blog will be up soon, and I'll guide you to it as soon as it's up and running. Enjoy, and thanks girl!

The #1 Text Dater
I've been in NYC for over 2 years but haven't dated because I wanted to get settled here first. But i decided I'm ready to date and joined a few sites, Plentyoffish.com and OkCupid.com. I've talked to a few guys on both sites, but nothing turned into dates. I'm a big text messenger & I thought texting with a guy would be a fun, flirty and easy way to get to know someone. But now I've decided I need to stop DATING THROUGH TEXTING. Here is the 1st reason why.....

About 2 months ago, I finally started talking to someone I thought was interesting enough and he asked me out to dinner. We exchanged phone numbers a few days in advance and the "Text Dating" began.

I knew he worked in computers so I thought I asked him some advice about my computer.

I texted "My computer is running so slow lately. Do you know an easy way to clean delete unwanted stuff?"

He texted "What are the specs?" Right then he got all crazy, nerdy computer guy on me. He texted "You can bring your computer to our date & I can look at it."

I texted "I don't want to lug it around with me all day because I won't be able to go home between work and the date." but in all reality, WTF? Why would you want to fix a computer on the 1st date? Seriously?

The date finally came. I showed up and he was already at the bar. He was not what I expect... and not in a good way. All of his pictures on his profile were cute but just of his face. I'm not one to be superficial about that kind of stuff but he had larger birthing hips than me. Being a bigger girl all my life, I tend to be attracted to stockier guys, but the hips on this guy were uncalled for. Okay, I'm a bitch, whatever. I go to the bar and said hello. He smiled and said he's so excited to finally meet me. We have a 3 course meal and I drank 3 glasses of wine. I should of know I wasn't that interested in him when I was having more fun flirting with the cute gay waiter every time he came to our table.

I knew that "HIPS" lived in New Jersey, but I find out that he doesn't live right over the bridge, but like 45 mins into Jersey. He talked about how long it took him to get into the city. I don't mind dating someone who lives in Jersey but only if it's right on the other side of the river because how the hell am i supposed to get there if not. I don't own a car.

                             

The conversation was fine. Nothing too exciting but there wasn't any awkward pauses or moments either. One thing I always ask on dates is... What's your deal breaker? Mostly because I want to tell them MY deal breaker to see their reaction. My deal breaker is: I can not date someone who is homophobic. I have too many gay and lesbian friends to even tolerate someone like that. Once I told him that, he told me he has a lot of gay friends and is completely cool with the gays. He also knew some "gay terms" like top, bottom & versatile. Which made me laugh. His deal breaker?? I can't even remember, so it wasn't that important, eh?

He paid for dinner, which was over $100 so that was a plus. He asked me if he could drive me home since his car is parked around the corner. I thought about saying no, but then realized my metro card ran out the day before, so I said he could. Hey, I needed to get home somehow! The car was really small and when we got into it, I wanted to be Chris Farley in Black Sheep singing, "Fat Guy in a Little Coat". He drove me home and we made small talk, nothing exciting. I had him pull up to my corner and drop me off there. He said, I'd love to see you again. I said, sure. (why did I say sure? I don't know. it just came out) Then I leaned over to him and pecked him on the lips! WHAT? Why did I do that?? I'll tell you why. Because every single time I'm with my gays, we greet and say goodbye to each other exactly like that. Damn It!

On my way upstairs get an text from him saying, "I had a great time. You are so beautiful. I'd love to take you out this week. Maybe a movie?" Okay, if you live in NYC you know how expensive movies are. It's $15 to see a movie at night, plus any snacks or popcorn, you are talking way over 25 bucks per person. So do I go out with him again, just to see a movie.... ummm.

I texted him back, "I had a nice time too. What movie are you thinking?"

He texted back, "Inception". Damn it, I've been wanting to see that movie for weeks now.

I text back, "Oh I've been wanting to see that. What night?"

He texted back,"Does Tues work for you?" Tuesday totally worked for me. Damn. Why did I say yes? Is it because I haven't been out on a date in over 3 years and I don't want to feel like a complete loser anymore... or am I just a bitch?

Three days later, I met him at the theater. He already bought our tickets online...score! He asked if we could share some popcorn. I love popcorn. He bought us popcorn and drinks. We sat in the back of the theater. His hips almost didn't fit. I'm a bitch for noticing that, I know. We watched the movie. I made sure to keep my hands in my lap, not giving him any opportunity to reach for my hand.

After the movie, he suggested we get a drink. I thought, why not. But instead, he choose a hummus place. We sat by the window and he ordered a large bowl. I wasn't even hungry because I ate way too much popcorn. This is where we get into the heavy stuff.

He started with... "Where do you see yourself in 5 years?"

I told him, "I don't really know. I know that I love living in NYC and I'll probably be here."

He asked, "What do you mean, you don't know? Everyone should have an answer to this question."

I said, "Well, sorry, I don't."

From that point, I was totally over this date. Why would you put down someone's answer? He kept talking and I kept smiling and nodding. He asked me if I wanted a ride home again, I said sure. He drove me home. He asked if I wanted to hang out again this weekend. I told him, I wasn't sure what my weekend looked like but maybe. He leaned in to kiss me and I gave him my cheek then hopped out of the car.

My roommate was home. We started hashing out the pros & cons of the night, when I got a text message.

"Are you just not into me?" he texted.

"I'm not sure how I feel. I would like to be friends though." I texted.

"Friends? I have enough friends. I don't understand how you can change your feelings about me after just seeing a movie." he texted.

"It was after the movie. All the stuff you talked about. It seems like you are a little too needy for me." I texted. What did I have to loose? It's not like I wanted to see this guy again.

There was a long pause and I thought he wasn't going to text me back, then I got....

"I am the least needy person you've ever met & if you stopped hanging out with only gay guys you might know the difference."

WHAT. THE. EFF? Seriously? There was no what-so-ever way I'm even considering going on another date with him now. I mean, really?? DEAL BREAKER! I didn't even give him the satisfaction of a reply. About 3 minutes later he texted again, "Yea, good luck ever finding someone. Don't contact me again." WHAT?!?! Thus ends the 1st TEXT DATER story.

Men are Crazy...And Viva Las Vegas!

Okay...so...well. Right. Here we go: What is the deal with attached men hitting on me lately? Not necessarily married guys, but guys who are in relationships. (Although if you recall the Lying Cheating Bastard story...turns out that one was actually still married at the time. Nice.)

What is it about me, or them, or their relationships, that makes it seem like a good idea to send me these signals? Now don't get me wrong, I'm not EVER going to knowingly act on this kind of thing. But this weekend has just made me stop and think about what's going on. Maybe it's me? Maybe they're not happy in their current relationships? It's really frustrating because I can't seem to find a decent single guy, but hey, if you're already in a relationship, then go ahead and dangle it in my face because there's not a thing I can do about it. Thanks dudes.

If you have any insights on this topic, please leave me a comment because my brain is about to burst.

Oh, and this is all making me have really weird dreams. More specifically, I've been dreaming about the guy who went away for a month this summer, only to come home and THEN break my heart. Which is great really, because who wouldn't want to relive heartbreak over...and over...and over...?

Aside from all of this, things are okay right now. Vegas was awesome, as usual. It was great to see some friends who I haven't seen in a long time, and meet some new ones as well. We definitely did it up right, but I'm still not sure who won the battle: Us or Vegas? I do know that there is probably not a drop of vodka left in the town, because we certainly must have consumed all of it. I met a very handsome Australian guy too. Damn those accents. I'm a sucker.

                                  

I'm still on the dating circuit, so we'll see how it goes. I think my match subscription is up in a couple of weeks, so I'll have to decide if I want to stick with it. I don't know...I emailed a super cute guy last week, but he never answered me, so I'm feel a little disenchanted. This is one of the first ones that I was really hoping to get a response....darn it.

Okay, off I go. If you aren't following me yet, just head on over to the right side bar and do it. You know you want to...

10 Things I'm Thinking Right Now

A new feature? I don't know. We'll see how this round goes.

1. WHY do I still watch Jersey Shore? It's not even in effing Jersey.
2. I can't wait for the end of the work week. I need to relax.
3. Would one more glass of wine give me a hangover in the morning? Because right now I think I'll be okay.
4. Maybe I should just risk it.
5. Friends and a good dinner are 100% the cure for a sad and confused soul.
6. On that note, I am full of Italian food.
7. How much farther would I have to suck in my belly before my lower back starts to look bloated? (Blame it on the Italian food!)
8. The Situation is a douchebag. Yeah, still watching. Eff.
9. I am not looking forward to Monday.
10. My stomach is more talented than any symphony. True story. It's like putting your ear to a seashell and hearing the ocean, except it's my stomach and it sounds like the depths of the earth preparing for a massive volcanic explosion. Gurgle.

Hey, I said it was all about things I was thinking RIGHT NOW. Don't judge. Just laugh.

Loves.

They comes and they goes...

And once again, they goes.

One of these days I'm going to learn how NOT to get excited over meeting a supposed "nice guy." Because as of late, it appears that I am not the good judge of character that I thought I was. So as you might have guessed by now, the dude I was recently seeing is now...gone. Seriously, like pulled a disappearing act this weekend, after which I learned that basically everything out of his mouth for the past couple of weeks has been nothing but lies. Bummer too, because I had just come up with a great blog nickname for him. He doesn't deserve it though. You can call him..."The Lying Cheating Bastard." That'll work.

But you know, props to him for being a good actor. Not so much to me for being a sucker though. Damn it.

I know you probably want the full story, but to be terribly honest, I don't want to talk about it. I want to pretend like it never happened. Shouldn't be too hard to do, because he apparently went completely off his rocker and deleted his entire Facebook page. I just think that's weird.

                                  

Many many MANY thanks are due to my wingwoman and a couple of our awesome neighbors for dragging me out of my "woe is me" moment on Saturday night though. Nothing cures a sad soul like friends and liquor. And pizza.

Soooo I've decided to go back to paying a little more attention to my Match account. Why not? You never know.

Aside from this weekend's drama, I spent the rest of it getting my poor little bruised and battered heart completely broken by my beloved Cincinnati sports teams. (Not you, Bearcats, you get a pass this week.) But ohhh the Reds and Bengals. Yesterday was not a good day to be a Cincinnati sports fan. But I guess in a way, I'm actually relieved that the Reds season is over, because the last couple of weeks have been stressful! And I mean, no one expects much out of the Bengals this season, so the heartbreak is a little easier to stomach. It's hard to be disappointed when you don't expect much to begin with. (Hey, maybe that should be my dating mantra too!)

So there ya go. Another dating saga ends. A new week begins. Okay, I'm ready now.

BTW....direct your mouse to the right of your screen and follow me. Do it. Do it now. Great, thanks.

Playoff Growing Pains

Oh, Reds. Why must you hurt me like this? To say the least, last night's performance in Philly was less than playoff-worthy. Granted, Halladay probably would have pitched the same, regardless of the 4 runs given up by the second inning, but I still think without that unfortunate series of events, the guys might have had a better outlook and a little higher morale for the remainder of the game.

Let's just pretend it didn't happen. Everything's fine. Game 2 tomorrow, and I'll be at Game 3 when the boys come home on Sunday. I still love my Reds, but a repeat of last night is definitely not necessary.

As for watching the game last night...I hit up my fave bar, as usual, with my fave wingwoman, and we had plenty of fun. In fact, she had LOTS of fun. What's not to like when the guy across the bar making eyes at you leaves, then texts his buddy to hit on you in his absence. AND she has a date with him tonight! Good going sister, I'm proud of ya. *tear*

And finally, just to keep you in the loop, I haven't seen the latest addition to my life since Sunday. Sad face.

See you suckers later. :)

Short & Sweet...The Latest Updates!

Hello my dear blog world friends! I would apologize for not writing for so long, but the thing is...it's my blog, and if I don't feel like posting, I won't! :) (That's just a joke...the truth is that I missed you all and I feel bad for not writing. Plus I like writing, and I like making people laugh, and I like that you live vicariously through my sweet blog.)

So where we last left off...I had been out with Mr. Big Talker. In my ever mature way of handling the one-date relationship, I decided that he was weird enough that I didn't feel like responding to his phone calls and text messages, and eventually he gave up. Or so I thought. This past Friday, on my way to the grocery after work (yeah, grocery on a Friday, I'm awesome), my phone rang with a number I didn't recognize, so I let it go to voicemail. Good decision, because it was Mr. Big Talker "just calling to see what I was up to and if I still wanted to hang out."

Really? Did he seriously not get my Chandler Bing-esque response? "This was great, let's do it again sometime!" doesn't actually mean anything if the person NEVER ANSWERS YOU AGAIN. Oh also...did I mention that when I gave him a half-hug goodbye that he made some creepy gutteral noise that pretty much made me throw up in my mouth a little? Ewww.

Moving on.

In a strange and unexpected turn of events...I actually met a guy who I kinda like a little bit. Of course, you're thinking to yourself, "Online dating finally paid off! She met someone!"

You would be wrong. In fact, I've all but given up on the online nonsense. Even though it did make for some interesting date scenarios.

Soooo, the guy is a friend of a friend. And the one thing I can promise you is that he is nothing like the guy that you probably picture me with. For that matter, he's not what I've always pictured myself with. But guess what? I don't care! He's smart, handsome, and he makes me laugh. He also is dad to a nine-year-old chica, DJs once in a while, has arms full of tattoos, and works at a job that is anything but "typical." (His job is way more fun that the "Office Space" world I live in...where did I put those damn TPS reports?!)

It's too new and too soon to make futuristic predictions...buuuuuuuut so far so good. We hit up Kings Island this weekend with the mutual friends, stood in the cold rain, and laughed our asses off on some roller coasters. Then we all went out, had some drinks, and the two of us girls decided that since we missed midget wrestling at KI earlier in the day, that we should probably try to reenact it in my living room. Brilliant.

Now he just needs a blog nickname...

And finally, it wouldn't be right of me to post a blog without giving some love to my Cincinnati Reds! Post season play starts in just a couple of days and this coming Sunday, I'll be in the stands cheering my heart out as they play their first playoff game in Cincy in 15 years. Reds fans, do ya hear me?! Good luck to the boys!

                   

I'm baaaaaaaaaaack!

Greetings, friends! I know I've been incommunicado for the last couple of weeks, but I have been busy with life. Unfortunately (for who, I'm not sure...), the dating scene has been relatively quiet. I have a few irons in the fire, but not much has panned out lately.

Match is a little strange. It was almost overwhelming for the first couple of weeks, then it kind of died off. In the transition, I had a few stragglers from eHarmony who I met.

You may remember the Real Estate guy...we actually went out several times, but the guy just never really seemed that excited to see me. I would hope that if he took the time to see me more than once, maybe it meant he kinda liked me and would show a teeny bit of excitement when we got together. Nope. Nothing. Not an iota of joy at the sight of me. Needless to say, it kind of fizzled on its own, and I don't feel too bad about it.

Mr. Big Talker
Next up, Mr. Big Talker, the last holdout from eH. Wow, this guy was a piece of WORK. We met last Friday for a couple drinks at a dive bar in downtown Cincinnati. I don't mind dive bars, just wanted to set the scene. I recalled from his profile that he said he was a non-smoker. Now, where I come from, chain smoking Marlboro lights for 90 minutes straight generally doesn't fit into the "non-smoker" category. Correct me if I'm wrong.

Big Talker clearly fancied himself to be far more charming and debonair than he actually was. I felt that he was trying to make a point of how much money he has without being TOO obvious. (Rayban sunglasses, talk about how much he tips the bar staff, that's my sweet expensive convertible over there across the street...)

But about the Big Talking...So the guy pretty much talks about himself the entire time we sat there and had drinks. (He did squeak out a few compliments to throw in my direction...a weird way of saying "you're pretty"...He told me I was "rockin' beautiful." Compliment, yes. Weird, yes.) Anyway, this guy was a bit sketchy when I asked what he did for a living. From what I can gather, he lived in Dubai for a while and talked about how dangerous it was to be an American over there. He does some kind of "consulting" for companies overseas, but I wasn't clear on what that meant exactly. He also told me lots of stories about the women over there and how they love American men. In fact, he told me, he is an "expert at women." I also got plenty of stories about how these women talk in some kind of weird code when it comes to sexual desires. For example, "Do you like the fruit in my basket?" To which the man would answer something like, "I very much enjoy your fruit."

Um. Okay. Ew.

I know you probably think I'm making this up. I'm not. OH! I also forgot to mention that he seems to think he's being watched by Big Brother all the time, because he keeps his hotel keycards anytime he stays anywhere and puts them in a plastic bag with all of his receipts from the trip to shred later. I'm sure if he told me anything, he'd have to kill me. (I don't think I want to find out.)

After telling me how rockin' beautiful I was about 17 more times, I politely excused myself for dinner with friends. As usual, I had given this date a heads up that I had other plans, but would be able to fit in some time beforehand to meet up. Thank God I use this tactic, because I totally needed it this time around.

In other news...
Last weekend I went to St. Louis to catch the Reds and Cardinals at Busch Stadium. It was an awesome trip, and we had a great time at the game. The folks in STL are super nice and the city is very pretty. Since the Reds lost the game, I would have to say the highlight of my day was when the person to my left stuck a piece of paper in my face that had been passed down the row. It looked like this:

                     

This is an actual photo of the note that Will from Cincinnati sent down the row to me. Yes, my thumb is strategically placed to block out the phone number. The guy was next to me in line at the concession stand, and I guess he was compelled to write me a note. The only thing that would have made it better was if it said "Do you like me? Check yes or no."

Will MAY have gotten a call if I hadn't seen him on the way out with about 9 children climbing on him. Fail.

So now I'm back into my regular groove and still playing the match.com game, and still not winning. The fact that I keep running into people I know keeps it somewhat interesting, at least. I came across the profile of Shy Techie Guy, a dude I know through work (not a fellow employee or anything), and finally decided to email him, just to see what his response would be. Over a week later, he emailed me back. I guess it took him a while to figure out if I was as scary as he thought. Could be interesting. Or boring. I'm not sure. Ten days is a loooooooong time to take before sending back an email...especially with Match tells you how recently the other person has been active online...

Okay, so that's about it for now. My apologies again for going dark for the last two weeks. I'll try to be better. I know you can't live without me! :)

Kisses.

The Dating Experiment Continues...What a Weekend!

Ohhhh what a weekend. I'm so tired right now, but it was so worth it. I mean, I have to say, this went down as one of the better weekends I have had in quite some time. This dating experiment is pretty fun...

        

A Question of "Ethics"
I just have to address this one thing before I continue. I've gotten a bit of flack for my adventures, from one person in particular who basically called me "unethical" the other day. I don't see how dating a handful of guys is unethical. Let me make this clear: I AM NOT sleeping around, and I'm not doing anything wrong. They are just dates, and I am just putting myself out there to see what happens. If I go on some nice dates with some nice guys and it doesn't work out...what's the problem? People date all the time, and it doesn't always work out, but no one says you're "unethical" for meeting people in "real life." I don't get it. Like I said...you don't have to agree with me, but CHASTISING me is not okay.

That's all I have to say about that.

The Weekend
So let's talk about this weekend. It was so much fun, but I am sooooo paying the price right now. On Friday, I did indeed have two separate dates. They were strategically spaced apart enough that I could easily leave the first one in time enough to meet the second one. What I didn't expect was to have my expectations backwards. What I mean by that is, I was actually more excited to meet the first guy, but it turned out that my connection with the second guy was much stronger. (Resulted in a second date on Sunday. WHAT? I know. Hang on. We still have to get through Saturday.)

Friday Guy #1 was a genuinely awesome dude. No doubt about it. We had a good time sitting at a bar and chatting. It wasn't at all awkward and I really enjoyed my time with him. I'm not opposed to a second date with him to see if there could be some chemistry there. I'm just not sure yet. You know that I kind of like to be smacked upside the head with the spark, so we'll see. Physically, there's no chance in hell that I could squash this guy like a bug. He's built like a football player! But I think he's more of a teddy bear, which could be difficult for me, because I like a little banter to keep me on my toes.

Friday Guy #2, we'll call the Real Estate Agent (REA). This was one of the stragglers from eHarmony, who I started chatting with initially because his pictures made me think he had a good sense of humor. He does. Initially though, I expected him to be kinda skinny, but he really wasn't. I thought I'd get a lame-o "nice to meet you hug" but it was solid and I was pleasantly surprised. He's super laid back, which is a switch for me, because I am go-go-go all the time. At first I thought he was sleepy or that I was boring him. After a couple beers, he perked up and we had so much fun talking. I won't lie, I don't remember all of the details of the conversation, but I know that I laughed a lot and totally wanted to lay a big smooch on him. So I did. Who says you shouldn't kiss on the first date? That's a dumb rule. It's just a kiss. (Chemistry, people. The spark. That's what it's all about.)

SATURDAY! Best day ever, I swear. I attended my very first Ale Fest--a four-hour event where you can pretty much drink all the beer you can handle...and it's GOOD beer. Hundreds of beers. Hundreds of people. Beautiful weather. This event is already on my calendar for next year. I went with a group of friends and new friends and had a fabulous time. Everyone at the festival was so friendly, which made standing in line for beers a lot more fun. "Have you tried the creme brulee stout? No? Here, try mine!" Perfect stranger sipping out of my glass? Eh, whatever. Let's all share our germs. Drink and be merry.

While at the event, I ran into an old coworker from a previous job. He's from Brazil, and so as I'm sure you can imagine, super sexy. It's true that American women are suckers for foreign men. The Brazilian is four years younger than me, but I still kinda wanted to hang out with him. Plus he was totally doting on me, and let's be honest, it's fun to be told you're pretty. I'm also quite sure that I'm not the only one at whom he batted his big brown eyes, but I had his attention pretty much all night...so score one for me. And yes, I would go out on a date with him if he asked.

And so that takes us to Sunday, which after my busy weekend, would normally have been a day to rest. Luckily, my GBF (gay best friend) made me go home at a decent hour on Saturday night, or I might have been incapcitated entirely on Sunday. (Of course, on the ride home I had to drunk dial my BFF in Vegas, as well as my favorite person in Orlando. Wubble.) I did some laundry, then decided to meet up with REA from Friday night. That's right, he earned a second date just 2 days after the first one. Crap, does this mean I LIKE him?! Oh dear.

Seriously though, it was fun. We went to trivia night, and while both of us kind of suck at trivia, we somehow ended up coming in third out of six teams playing. Not a bad showing and it earned us a free bucket of beer. I am having a hell of a time figuring out what exactly is drawing me to this guy, but I guess maybe I don't need to know for sure just yet. I do like his company though, and he will certainly get a third date.

            

Friends, I am tired. But I am really having fun with this dating thing. For one of the first times in my life, I actually feel desireable and sexy. And yes, I do anticipate that sooner or later, one of these will turn into a real relationship, and the experiment will end. I still have a few boys I want to meet though, so for now, onward! I plan on lining up a few before the week is over. I know you're excited for me! :)

Match + eHarmony = Double Booked

                                       

It's true. I'm double booked tonight. That's right, I have TWO dates scheduled for this evening. (Not at the same time, come on people, I'm smarter than that.)

6:30pm -- Drinks, and maybe a bite to eat, with a Match guy. Tall, dark, and handsome. Age, 36. Occupation, gainfully employed at a local college. Potential, yes. I'm very excited to meet this one.

9:30pm -- Meet suitor #2 at another local establishment. This guy is left over from eHarmony, 30-something, a former real estate agent who now owns rental properties and is pursuing an MBA. I like his sense of humor, which is why I talked to him in the first place. Seems to be a chameleon with his look though...facial hair, or no facial hair? Glasses or no glasses? I'm not sure which one will be meeting me tonight.

Now, my task at hand is to fight off the headache I have left over from salsa dancing and drinking last night! Must remember that I am NOT 22 anymore and it's not as easy to bounce back. Why do I always forget about this until the next day?

The Big Switch...

                      

Ok, so, I did it. I cancelled eHarmony and switched to Match.com...or as I like to call it, the Meat Market. I guess it hasn't been so bad, but I've only been on it for like 2 days, and my profile has only been viewed 274 times. (HA! I'm so not kidding.) I like that you can browse profiles on Match, but I wish that I could specify what kinds of men could locate my profile in their browsing. By this I mean, I can't specify that my profile be excluded from the searches of men who are 50+. Nor can I stop them from attempting to contact me. Even though I say in my profile that I'm seeking men ages 29-38, anyone can set their search criteria to anything they want.

And by the way, there's apparently no need for me to do any browsing. I just sit back and let them come to me. Yeah, tell me it's not a meat market! Eeeks.

So, when I get "winked at" by men who are 54, or even 60, I just find that weird. Here's the thing, if you are closer to my mom's age (or older) than my own, then it's a little creepy for me. (No wait, it's actually really strange and kind of pervy.) That means my real top age limit is 40. On the low end, anyone under 28-29-ish is most likely simply in a different lifespace than I am. There becomes a fundamental difference in maturity. Annnnnd, again, I don't want to date people who I liken to my younger brothers.

So my Match profile pretty much lays it all out there, and says exactly what I want, followed by exactly what I don't want.

Now, we wait. I've been in contact with a couple Match guys who seem pretty decent and relatively genuine, so we'll see what happens. (Got one on the hook...soooo cute in his pictures...hopefully they are an accurate representation.) I also have two stragglers from eHarmony who might have some potential. Now I just have to secure some dates and give you something worth reading...

Stay tuned!

The Wow Factor

                                         

If you're up to date with me so far, you might be wondering what exactly it is I'm looking for in a man. I think as far as relationships go, I want the same thing everyone else in the world wants. Honesty, compatibility, laughter, and great chemistry. But where do you start? You start at the beginning, obviously.

I want "The Wow Factor." I don't want to trudge through 5 or 6 dates with a guy because "sometimes you have to give the spark time." I don't want to spend that kind of time waiting, wishing, hoping, FORCING the spark to ignite. I want to be wowed, and I want it to happen right now. Like, within the first few minutes of conversation. Immediate. Now. Pronto. I want to leave the date already counting down until the next time we get to hang out and then get giddy like a 14 year old girl when my phone buzzes with the next text message. (Bonus points for telling me how pretty I am...often. Even with this mountain on my cheek. Yeah, I still get zits. I blame my mother. Love you Mom!)

Too much to ask? Let's hope not.

So to me, The Wow Factor includes some particulars, and probably some things that I really don't know about yet, because sometimes, you just can't put your finger on what "it" is.

Instant Attraction
I'm sorry if you think I'm shallow for saying this, but I want to look at the guy who walks in the door and think to myself, "Yessssssss." How do I define "attraction?" I'm not sure. It's not always the same answer and there is not one single universal characteristic that defines attraction for me. Sometimes I will find a man attractive and it surprises me. It's just that indescribable thing that draws you to another person. If I don't see that in you, almost immediately, I'm sorry, but I probably won't invest much time. It's better for the both of us that way. (And by the way, if you have snaggleteeth...don't even get me started. I'm sorry your parents didn't spring for orthodontics when you were 13, but you're a big boy now, go get your teeth straightened out. Dentistry has come a long way.)

Tall...Enough.
Typically, I like to be able to wear heels and NOT feel like the jolly green giant. If you tell me you are 5'9", and I wear 2.5" heels, and I am towering over you, you are, most certainly, not 5'9". At least be honest with me...and for the love of God, yourself.



AMAZING Conversation
I don't care if we are talking about our latest vacations, or favorite sports teams, or what to order from the menu, or the color of my nail polish. If the conversation doesn't flow, I am done. The "problem" I seem to run into is that I can carry on a chat with just about anyone. (Stranger at the bar? My new best friend. Server in the restaurant? Invited to her baby shower.) I can turn on the charm and humor and make even a slug laugh and think I'm captivating.

But don't forget: Just because a woman is nice to you, it does not mean that she wants to go home with you at the end of the date, or maybe ever. She might just be nice to everyone, and lucky you, she was nice to you too. Would you have preferred your date to say something like, "Wow you're a lot less cute than your pictures." Or, "I was expecting something totally different." Or, "Yeah, I can totally see why you're still single." We aren't trying to draw you into our evil web just to squash your hopes later, we just try to be nice all the time.

Anticipation
Like I mentioned above, I want to leave the date hoping that I get a text from him on the way home. Have I been guilty of being to eager? Sure. Who hasn't? (Go ahead, raise your hand...exactly.) But hopefully, the anticipation and excitement is equal too, and you're as excited to see me again as I am to see you. Of course, the world is an imperfect place, and not all matches are made in heaven. You might feel stronger about me than I do about you, or I might think we had a good thing going when you were kind of luke warm. It's okay...take a deep breath, and move on. That's what I'm learning to do.

Moral of the Story?
I won't know if we together have The Wow Factor until...well, until it actually happens...if that makes any sense. For me, it's either there or it's not, and I know it almost immediately. I can make it through a date for an evening, even if the spark isn't there, and I can be nice to my date, but that doesn't mean I'm wowed. (Hell, I might even use the ol' "We should do this again sometime!" ala Chandler on Friends. Sorry, I didn't mean to lie to you, I was just trying to be nice.)

Am I picky? Yes. I've made it through 30 years of singledom, and I have earned the right to be picky. I see no reason to settle for "just okay" at this point--when what I really want is to be knocked square on my ass when the right one comes around.

Comments welcome as always. Got a story of your own? I'd love to have some guest bloggers to prove that I'm not alone in the struggle! Email me at cincyshenanigans@gmail.com. If you like me, follow on the right and share with your friends! :)

Was I Too Honest?

Another day, another heart broken by my cold hands.

                               

B#2 wasn't taking the hint. I got the expected follow-up email saying he "had a great time!" with me on Monday night. I cleverly side-stepped his multiple emails yesterday (after I ignored the first one for a while) by responding that the boss lady was in town and that I was called into a meeting out of the office that wasn't originally on my schedule. (All true, in case you were wondering.)

Today, I received another email from B#2 asking if I wanted to go to the Bengals game with him on Friday. For a brief second, I considered the request as a way to get a free ticket to see my team in pre-season action, but the truth of the matter is that I already committed to an event this Friday and can't back out now. So that was my actual answer.

His response: "I'm getting the feeling you aren't interested, since you didn't answer when I asked you the same question yesterday. That's too bad, because I really had a good time with you."

Sooooo....even though I didn't want to go with you to your place to "watch tv" you still want to hang out with me? Maybe you'll have better luck next time? I gotta be honest here, I felt uncomfortable from that very second and feel like he looked at me as a piece of a$$ that might be an easy score if he fed me some more wine. I AM NOT THAT STUPID.

B#2 was clearly not taking my subtle hints, so I decided to go the honest route and let him know that it had made me feel a bit weird and uncomfortable. (More delicately worded than above, I promise.) I followed it with the obligatory "you seem like a great guy"...."but just not enough chemistry for me, and I don't want to lead you on."

Too honest? Or should I just have continued to ignore the emails until he went away?

The Dating Experiment: Banker #2 & the TV Line

Maybe the problem is me. Maybe that "wow" factor doesn't really exist and I'm just looking for something that just won't ever be there. Maybe my standards are too high. Maybe I'm just straight up confused about what I want.

Maybe maybe maybe.

Or, maybe it's that there are a lot of creeps out there who are adept at masking their creepiness through dinner until it seems appropriate to ask: "You wanna go back to my place and watch TV?"

Welcome to last night's date with Banker #2.

Perhaps B#2 thought I was drunk enough to actually fall for such a line, but after 2.5 glasses of cabernet, I was still able to see straight through it. Let's set it up.

The Scene:
7:00pm at Stone Creek Dining Company, a new addition to West Chester and the former home of Mesh. I like what they did with the place...it's a bit brighter, nice wine and martini list, decent menu. I was not, however, impressed with the foul-smelling fish that was served to some unsuspecting customer while I sat at the bar sipping on my wine. Didn't they read Anthony Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential?! Never order the fish on Monday. Ever.

First Impressions:
B#2 said we'd meet at 7:30, so naturally I got to the bar a little early. He arrived at 7:39, in a pair of shorts and flip flops. He was...short. (I know, I know, height doesn't always matter, but for the love of GOD I want to be able to wear heels and not feel like a giant!) B#2's best feature were his pretty blue eyes and the kind of long eyelashes that we women would kill for. But he was short, and he barely moved his lips when he talked, so I couldn't get an accurate gauge on the teeth sitution. (If you know me, you know I have a thing about teeth, and if there's even one straggler out of place, I can't deal.)

Conversation:
A little awkward at first. "How was your day?" "Are you hungry?" "Do you want to sit outside?" We finally did go sit outside and decided to order a couple appetizers and some salads. I don't really remember all that much about the conversation, which tells me that it was probably not that interesting. The brightest part of the date was our adorable server, who was 4 months pregnant with her first baby. She was just so cute and so friendly and soooo excited about the baby.

Final Impressions:
After dinner was over (he paid, but I had picked up the tab at the bar), we sat there for a couple minutes and he says to me, "What do you want to do now?" I checked the time...it was going on 10, my dogs were in their cage, and they hadn't been fed yet. Furthermore, I didn't really think the date needed to continue much later anyway, especially since I wasn't in love and it was a work night. I can hang sometimes, but this just wasn't one of those times. He continued: "You wanna maybe go back to my place and watch TV and drink some more wine?"



WHAT?! I'm sorry, but there's no way he could have mistaken anything over the last 2 hours for the kind of chemistry that would make me fall for a ridiculous line like that.

I think I know why B#2 is on eHarmony--it's because he's a creepster who thinks he's far more charming and suave than could ever be packed into his "just shy of 5'9" frame. (Yeah, just shy by like 2.5 inches, but whatever.)

I politely said that I needed to get home, he walked me to my car, attempted to lay one on me, and instead received my right cheek. I hopped into my car knowing that I probably broke yet another fragile heart and consoled myself with some cherry cordial ice cream before bed.

So far, the dating experiment is failing, and I'm feeling like a bit of a failure too. I can't figure out if I'm just way too hard on men, or if it's okay to stick to my guns and ride the wave until the right one finally drops out of the sky. I don't know.

I do know this...I'm not sticking with eHarmony after next week when my subscription is up. So I'm now open to suggestions...

Reds Game Characters & Banker #2 Pre-Date Evaluation

Unfortunately, my weekend was relatively uneventful...for the most part. I went to the Reds game on Friday night, which was fun but miserably hot. My cute-but-baseball-game-appropriate outfit went from just that to sweating-through-my-shirt-and-sticking-to-the-seat in no time. But our seats on the third base line out in left field provided us an interesting view of two things: Dirty Santa and Laynce Nix. No relation there, in case you were wondering.

DIRTY SANTA. What is there to say about Dirty Santa, really? We first encountered this presumably off-his-rocker character on our way into the stadium. I do wish I had been thinking about something other than the ungodly heat, so as to take a photo. He was standing there with a sign, shouting incoherently at the crowd entering Great American, wearing the top half of a Santa outfit, shorts, and sneakers. Luckily, he was just a section or so over from us in the ballpark, pretty much doing this the entire game:



No further questions, your honor.

LAYNCE NIX is the smokin' hot Reds left fielder who has garnered the love and attention of many a Cincinnati lady. I can't say I disagree.



While my attempt to woo him to the sideline to sign my brother's baseball hat failed horribly (I decided flashing him might get me thrown out of the game or arrested...), I did manage to make solid eye-contact, followed by a small wave and the move that I can only describe as the "chin nod." Guys, you know the one. I guess leaning over the wall to the point of practically falling on to the warning track and waving like a maniac did the trick. He waved back. Score one for me on my quest to have Laynce Nix as my very own.

If anyone knows Laynce, please feel free to deliver to him my phone number, street address, blog website, Facebook page, Twitter account...Ahem.

Tonight...The Dating Experiment continues with Banker #2. He suggested we visit a local wine bar that has (1) Not been very busy even on weekends, and therefore (2) Probably won't be very busy on a Monday night. I do like wine, but I offered an alternative that might have a somewhat more lively atmosphere, and he said, "I'll meet you out front at 7:30." He clearly doesn't read my blog and is unaware that I need to be securely planted at the bar well ahead of his arrival. I politely told him I'd probably already be at the bar, and he answered, "You just used your last veto." VETO? No sir, that was an absolute to which there are no alternatives. I'll. Be. At. The. Bar.

He's not earning any pre-date bonus points, that's for sure...

The Dating Experiment: Week One

A good friend of mine, whose blog you can visit here, once spent an entire year visiting one church a week, and blogging about his experiences. He recently suggested that I do the same--no, not with churches, are you crazy?! With dating. He said, "Lex, I think you should take one year, go on one date a week (with different guys), and write about it." While I totally appreciate the ambition and the great potential for entertainment, I feel that one date a week for 52 weeks could be quite challenging. But I figure I'll start off with weeks one and two, and see where we go from there. Afterall, I already had dates scheduled for those weeks, so the ambition factor was already more at my speed to start.

Ok, so before I get into last night's date, I just HAVE to recap a conversation that happened at work yesterday. Some days you're the pigeon, some days you're the statue. This guy always gets to be the pigeon, and me, the statue.

GM: Hey I need you guys to park on the north end of the lot tomorrow.
Me: (politely): Ok, why's that?
GM (with a weird little head bob-shake thing): Because I need you to.

Well that certainly clears it up for me, no? He might as well have just said, "because I said so" and saved me the trouble of analyzing whether he was treating me like a 10 year old child or not. (He was.)

Now, I present to you, The Date.
Let's call him....Banker #1. He has to be designated as "#1" because there's another banker to follow.

Anyway, Banker #1 was an eHarmony match with whom I completed the "guided communication" process. Pictures: cute enough (hope cuter in person). Occupation: corporate banker guy for a well-respected bank. Interests: similar enough to mine that we might actually have some stuff to talk about.

The Scene:
CF at Kenwood. (That's Cheesecake Factory for anyone who likes to make things cooler by using abbreviations...like me.) So I'm a get-to-the-meeting-place-early kind of girl, because I like to be comfortably seated at the bar with a glass of wine in my hot little fist (and at least half of it down my throat...fine, 2 glasses, whatever) before the potential suitor in question arrives. It's so much easier not to be the lost looking little puppy hunting through a dim bar. I got there early, got a seat, got some wine. B#1 arrives.

First Impressions: He's just a wittle guy! (That's little, in a fun cartoon-y voice.) Unfortunately eH doesn't necessarily always give you a good idea of girth, and this guy didn't have lot. Let's just say, if I feel that I could crush a guy like a bug with one hand, then he's not meaty enough for me. I'm 5'6" and in good shape, but I am by no means a tiny girl and I need to feel that my man could ward off a hungry bear in my defense. B#1 could not. (But as he told me several times, he's just now completing P90X. Let me warn you before you purchase: "These results are not typical.")

Conversation:
Decent! It was honestly not awkward at any point, and I really did enjoy our chat. Dinner was fine...CF doesn't often disappoint, and he graciously picked up the check. (YES, I OFFERED TO SPLIT IT.) We said our goodbyes, he awkwardly hugged me with his tiny hands barely making it all the way around my shoulders, and went on our separate ways. (Remember that scene in Austin Powers? "Carnies...small hands...smell like cabbage." He didn't smell like cabbage, but..."small hands" would be an understatement.)



He didn't smell like potato chips, either.

Final Impressions:
B#1 is the kind of guy who everyone that knows him describes like this: "Ohhhh B#1 is just the nicest guy!" Nice. He's so nice. What a NICE guy. He's the guy whose friends are constantly trying to find a nice girl to set him up with. Hell, I kind of wish I could think of a nice girl to introduce to him. He was just so nice!

But he is not my ever-lasting love, prince charming, knight in shining armor... He was nice, and it was a nice evening. No complaints, but no second date either.

Sigh.

Next up, we'll be taking our dating adventures to the wild metropolis of West Chester, where I will be meeting Banker #2. And today, my MOM decided she wants to set me up on a blind date with a friend of a friend...a person she has never met before, but her friend is really funny so HIS friend must be really funny too. Sight unseen? That could make it really interesting. My experiment could potentially last at least three weeks now!

Comments? Add below! Have a great weekend.

This Week's eHarmony Fails...

Look, here's the thing. I joined eHarmony as an alternative to meet a bunch of drunk assholes in a bar. I mean, let's be honest here. DA's are good for making out when I'm also drunk and wearing vodka goggles, but don't call me tomorrow. Chances are I gave you a fake phone number anyway. (I just change one digit, but it does the trick. And no I will not tell you which digit I change.) But I digress.

Truth be told, there have been a few decent guys on eHarmony over the last few months (excluding, of course, the one who left for a month, while I waited, THEN dumped me unceremoniously upon his return...by text message...while he was shitting in the loo. Oh, did I leave that last part out? My mistake.) Anyway, so yeah, a couple of decent guys. In fact I'm chatting with one currently who has a great sense of humor, is finishing an MBA and works for a respected banking company here in Cincy. I'll meet him next week. High hopes that he actually looks like his pictures, because it might not be all bad. (That is NOT shallow, it's the truth. Would you date a guy who you weren't attracted to? Didn't think so.)

Ok, back to my original point for this post--the week's latest and greatest eHarmony Fails. It seems that eHarmony is becoming somewhat desperate to make sure I have matches in my inbox every day, because they are certainly NOT abiding by the preferences I have set and the levels to which I have set my preferences (which I have on the high end of importance).

Q: "Do you want eHarmony to send you matches that do not have photos?"
Me: NO. Profiles WITH photos only, please.
eHarmony: "Just kidding, here are some losers who refuse to post their pictures anyway."
Me: Gee thanks.

Q: "How important is level of education to you?"
Me: Very important.
eHarmony: Oh okay then, here are some matches with the following listed as their occupations (and I quote):

• fast food
• meijer merchandise stocker
• kroger overnight uscan operator

I must have missed the part where these occupations require extensive education, similar to the Masters degree that I worked my ass off to earn. Followed by a career where I work hard...to not be fired. Ha.

Aside from all of that, I have also received matches whose profiles reveal the following:

• 5'4" and resembles a leprechaun...occupation: retail.
• Occupation: I own a company that deals in currency, mostly foreign. (Umm, shady much?) He goes on to say later that he spends his leisure time: I work on my old car, it offers me humility and is always there to make sure I lose a little skin. (Um...ew.)
• Appearance suggests serial killer or child molestor. (See photos...the second is him with his ex-girlfriend. What a sweet couple. I cannot make this shit up.)

So there you have it. So far this week, eHarmony has been an exercise in entertainment...but not so much finding my..."THIS WILL BE...AN EVERLASTING LOVE." Yeah, eff you, eHarmony.

Have a great day.