DAY 236: One Date At A Time.

Tonight I had a date. A good date. And I’m afraid to blog about it. Because I might jinx it.

I’ll try to keep this short…

Before we met, I had a really good feeling about him. Now, I’m not usually one to get all hippie-dippy, but sometimes I feel like I can sense a great connection before it is even made.

I can remember talking to Beta our second week of improv class 2+ years ago, and thinking to myself “we’re going to be good friends.” The same thing happened when I was Myspace-stalking Jeffrey. Am I a visionary? Or just a creepy nut-job who tricks strangers into befriending him?

Or am I just desperate? Sometimes my mind wanders and I create these wonderful non-existent relationships with people, which is dangerous, because it only leads to disappointment when they don’t turn out to be the person that I made them up to be. So I’m trying my best not to think about tonight’s date.

We met for drinks and had some good conversation. I made the mistake of blabbing about my previous experience with Match.com’ers, where I seem to hit it off with these guys, but then they never follow through with a second date (or even a first date, as was the case with many of my “e-mail boyfriends.”)

As soon as I finally shut my mouth, I realized that I just put a ton of pressure on tonight’s date to ask me out again and mean it. But it worked. He did ask me out again. And hopefully, he meant it.

If he flakes and we don’t go out again, I’ll just have to be thankful for the one good date we had. Just because there is (or seems to be) a good connection, doesn’t mean that anything is going to come of it. There are millions and millions of people in this world who I would probably have a good connection with. Most of them, I’ll never meet. I believe in chance, not fate.

Damn gurrl, it’s getting heavy up in here.

What I’m trying to say, is that I enjoyed tonight’s date immensely. I hope we go out again. But at the same time, I am making sure to protect myself… from myself. It’s not that I’m afraid of getting hurt. I’m just afraid that I will screw this up by being crazy and over analyzing things before there is even anything to analyze.

I am going to take this one date at a time. But don’t expect me to spill any juicy details on this blog. Because for once, I might actually want this one to work out…

DAY 235: Reasons #643-645 Why I’ll Never Have A Boyfriend.

Jeffrey is out of town for the next couple of days, and I myself decided to take a trip to Crazytown.

Here’s how I amused myself this morning while absolutely no one was around:

643. Conversing With Myself.
Apparently I like to talk to myself. A lot. I don’t really have anything important to say. It’s more nonsense phrases and sounds. Little inside jokes with my crazy self. Usually, I’m looking in the mirror and making a funny face at myself when this happens.

644. Pants Party!
This morning I got out all of the new summer shorts I bought myself and model them for… myself. I had already tried them on in the store, but at home I could play mix and and match with my tops and dance around more freely in front of the mirror.

645. Judy/Liza Sing Along.
It was even gayer than it sounds.

This is why I should never live alone.

DAY 232: I’m Going To Relationship Hell For This…

I am a very bad person for sharing this, and probably deserve to stay single for the rest of my life… but some things are just too good to keep to oneself.

This delight was waiting for me in my inbox over at Match.com:

Hi Brian,

How are you doing? You really look great . I may not meet the profile requirements, but I am a good guy to get along with. I really want to get to know you and it will be great to have you as a friend. If you only want to correspond with me by e-mail or the internet, then that’s ok with me as well. However I hope it will go further than that .

Can you tell me more about yourself, your likes and dislikes? Star Trek and Star Wars are two of the many things I like, but I am certainly not an obsessed fan. Do you like them as well? Can you tell me more about your interests, what you like doing the most? I hope you don’t mind that I say this, but it is hard to believe, that a good looking guy like you is still available . Please don’t take this the wrong way. By the way, 6′5″ (195cms) that’s a great height, I like that .

I like Martial Arts, especially Kung Fu. Traveling is something I like as well.

If there is anything you would like to know about me, feel free to ask me whatever you like. You can talk to me about anything you like. I am very open-minded and I hope that you will like me too. I am looking forward to your response. Take care my friend and till then.

Yours,
xxxxxxx

Is almost sounds like spam mail, right? My favorite parts are (obviously) the Star Trek/ Star Wars comment, and the fact the he converted my height into centimeters… just in case I was British and didn’t know how tall I was.

Yes, I feel bad making fun of him (esp. since I myself am a not-so-closeted BSG fan) and I think it’s terribly sad that he’s okay for settling with just being “e-mail friends.” Also, it was really nice of him to say that he finds it hard to believe that a good looking guy like me is still single.

But here’s the thing… I’m a bitch and I just shared your e-mail with the entire blogosphere. That is probably one (of many) reason(s) why I’m still available.

DAY 219: I’ve Got A New Attitude… Or, Things Are About To Get Real Heavy Up In Here.

Okay, I’m sure by now you’re sick of hearing me bitch and moan about how depressed I’ve been. But just know that by the end of this post, things get better.

This morning while making my lunch for work, I dropped a glob of hummus onto the bag of bread that was out on the counter, and I started to cry. Well, I don’t really cry. I just make an ugly face and get all misty-eyed. I think maybe half of a tear came out.

This has to be more than detoxing from the “partying” I did this past weekend. I’m detoxing from my life as well.

I consider myself to be in a pretty happy place right now. But then, after a fabulous, carefree weekend in the country, I came back to city life to realize that I want more than what I have.

I can be a happy person, I know it’s possible. I just experienced it out in the middle of Nowhere, Pennsylvania. But back in the real world I’d rather be negative and cynical, because “it’s my thing.”

I have a lot of issues that need resolving:

1. My job. I hate it. I always have. I feel trapped. I know what I want to do with my life, but I don’t know how to get there. I’m starting to feel like this fantasy world I’ve created in my head of being a successful writer will never come true. Am I doomed to spend the rest of my life working jobs that I truly despise and acting like a cunt at them to prove that I don’t belong there?

2. My apartment. I don’t know how much money we’re going to owe or how soon we’ll have to move. I’m afraid the answers are “more than I thought” and “sooner than expected.” I guess this one is out of my hands and up to the fate of our hopefully fair and tenant-friendly judicial system.

3. My relationship with men. Riding home on the subway today I came to realize that I couldn’t remember that last guy I kissed, let alone the last guy that I kissed and actually wanted to kiss. Sure I’ve hooked up recently, but it was all hook-up, no romantic foreplay. On top of that, I now have a major infatuation that I wish I didn’t have, because the feelings are so real that it scares me too much to act upon it. I may be a man, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t have a pussy, or rather, act like one.

DIOS MIO!

But as promised, things get better…

When I got home from work today, I did something that I haven’t done for 5 months: I went for a run. My goal was to keep it short and make it past 3 Dolly songs on my iPod. But being a glutton for punishment, I doubled it, and lasted for 6 Dollys.

Sure, it was only a 20 minute run. But it was the ass kicking I needed to remind myself that I don’t have to lay around all day watching TV and feeling sorry for myself. Is taking up running again going to fix all of my problems? No. But I predict it will help me become at least 20% less mentally unbalanced.

After my after-run shower, I felt great. Helping me feel like there was reason to live still, were Jeannie and A. Rod who came over for our Wednesday Night Supper Club on a Tuesday.

All hope is not lost, dear readers! Sure, I still don’t have the solutions to any of my problems. But I’ve decided to stop wallowing. Maybe it’s foolish and unrealistic of me, but for the time being, I’m going to pretend that in the end, everything is gonna be alright.

I remember growing up, my parents used to make my siblings and I listen to this series on tape that was all about teaching kids how to stay positive. The main character was some sort of alien creature, who appeared to an all-American brother and sister duo, and taught them to look on the bright side of every situation. Even at the ripe old age of 10, I thought it was a crock of shit.

But now, 18 plus years later, I’m starting to think that maybe that kooky, kid-friendly alien that told me I had the power to chose whether or not I wanted to be happy, was on to something.

It’s true, I’m not getting any younger, and maybe it’s my perception that life isn’t getting any better. But feeling shitty about that definitely isn’t helping any.

I need to readjust my ‘tude and start looking at all the good things I have. And believe me, there are plenty.

Awwww. Now, don’t we all feel better?

If not, go hug someone. It helps.

DAY 191: How I Plan To Meet My Future Husband.

We meet in a bookstore. Lord knows why I’m in a bookstore, maybe it’s raining outside or I’m shopping for a friend’s birthday present.

I find him browsing in the History section. He’s tall, dark, handsome and 45. He’s well dressed in a casual way that says, Yeah I have lots of money, but clothes aren’t that important to me. He is wearing jeans, not slacks. He doesn’t even own a pair of slacks.

He smiles at me. Embarrassed, I advert my eyes to the nearest shelf, except the nearest shelf happens to be the Gay & Lesbian section, which only embarrasses me more.

“Hey, sorry to bother you,” he says with a smile, “but do you have any good recommendations for a book on Victorian society?“

“Sorry, only movies,” I tell him.

He smiles again and his eyes get all squinty, almost Asian, like mine.

“I’m trying to find a good book to read at my country home upstate,” he tells me.

“Doesn’t your boyfriend have any recommendations?” I ask, almost too sarcastically.

He is silent for a moment.

“No,” he replies, blinking his eyes rapidly to keep the tears back. “He dumped me, and as a result, I now have trust issues.“

He’s standing in front of me like a sad puppy dog, and it’s at that exact moment, I know that I’m in love with him.

“It’s okay,” I tell him. “I have trust issues too.“

As he wipes the tears off his cheek we have a good laugh about how ridiculous we just sounded. We decide to go get a cup of coffee together and talk about our insecurities.

For fun, on our way out he grabs the nearest book off the shelf and sticks it in his satchel… not because he can’t afford it, but because he likes to be spontaneous every now and again.

AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER…

DAY 181: Reason #1,849 I Don’t Have A Boyfriend.

This weekend, my only social outing was a birthday party for two cats, that was celebrated by a bunch of lesbians.

Need I say more?

In other news, there were a couple of guys from Match.com that I was having some pretty good/witty e-mail correspondence with, and now they’ve suddenly all stopped contacting me.

Do you think they found out about the cat party???

DAY 172: T.S.F.P. Recap.

Here’s a quick recap of my T.S.F.P. (Top Secret February Project)

Number of Dates: 15

Number of Guys: 12

Number of Drinks: 17
(9 Gin & Tonics, 4 Beers, 2 Mojitos, 1 Red Wine, 1 Lychee Martini)

Number of Dollars Spent: $211
($286 if you count the $75 I spent signing up for Match.com)

Number of Guys I Am Still Seeing: 0

Yup. And I’m actually not bitter about it. By forcing myself to go on a bunch of dates, I discovered what I’ve always suspected: I’m not really into dating.

So is this still The Year of the Boyfriend? Sure. But I’m just hoping that he’ll magically find me. Cuz I’m tired of looking.

(DAY 161) Date #15: Jase.

Tonight, for my final date of the month, instead of going out with a bang, I went out with a thud. Or more accurately, a dud. (Snap!)

My date, while a nice guy, just wasn’t doing it for me. Which is fine, because I don’t think I was doing much for him either. We started off on the wrong foot when he showed up 15 minutes late for dinner after being stuck in the Holland Tunnel. He thought that he was going to have time to go home and change before our date, but he didn’t, which meant that he was wearing a full business suit, which looked odd sitting across from my Levi’s and American Apparel ensemble.

Thanks to the 14 other dates I’ve been on this month, I’ve become quite the dating hoe… I mean, pro, knowing how to ask the stock date questions by casually working them into the conversation and not just asking them point blank in list form.

For the curious, that list form goes something like this:
1. Where do you work?
2. Where do you live?
3. Where are you from?
4. How long have you lived in NY?
5. Why did you move here?
6. Are you doing anything fun this weekend?

(The one stock question that I try my hardest to avoid is, “What else do you do for fun?”)

Now, as anyone who dates regularly knows, when someone asks you a stock date question, your job is to respond and then ask the same question back to your date. Even if you feel silly repeating over and over “And how about you?,” it must be done in the interest of keeping the conversation flowing. My date neglected to do a lot of this, forcing me to work double time, offering up the information without being asked.

I couldn’t have felt like he took less of an interest in me. In fact, I felt like we were both ignoring the fact that we were on a date. Instead it seemed that maybe we were distant relatives forced to hang out with each other, or co-workers who were stuck at a business luncheon together.

After our date he told me he was going to take a cab home, and then he stepped out into the street, trying to flag one down. I wasn’t sure he if wanted me to wait until he got one, and then he was going to say goodbye to me… or if he was going to grab one and hop right in without even looking back at me.

Instead of waiting around, I bid him adieu and was quickly on my way back to being single and dateless for the rest of my life.

Seriously, even though I had to cheat and lower my dating quota from 21 to 15, I am happy to have accomplished what I did… and even more happy to be done with it.

My goal for this experiment was to get over my fear of dating, and perhaps in the process of doing so, meet some guys that I was genuinely interested in. I would say that by date #3, I was over being afraid of a stupid date. Long term relationships? Sure, those still terrify me. But a simple date? No.

As far as meeting some quality guys… yes, I meet a few. There are one or two that I think I might keep in contact with. Maybe I’ll even go on a few more dates with them, until things start to get serious and then I’ll really freak out.

But for now, I’m happy for my social life to get back to normal. That is to say, I can’t wait to spend this Friday home alone, doing absolutely nothing.

(DAY 160) Date #14: Bernard.

Tonight I had a second date with my CL VDay BF, Bernard.

Now, originally I though I wasn’t going to see Bernard again for 8 weeks, as he was doing a play in Jersey. (And no, I don’t do Jersey.) But as it turns out, he was given a few days off of rehearsal, so he came back into the city.

Perhaps a little absence would have made the heart grow fonder…

I thought our first date went really well. Good conversation, good connection. But tonight I definitely felt like we were reaching to come up with enough topics of conversation to fill the silence to accompanied our dinner.

And of course after dinner we went back to his place. (You can’t be a slut on the first date, and then pretend to have new found morals by date two.)

I could tell that he really wanted me to spend the night, but I’m just not that type of girl. Besides, while I am a dog person, I am not a pug person. As we were lying in bed post-coital, his pug proceed to 1.) Lick me. 2.) Give herself a 10 minute tongue bath that sounded like she was throwing up all over herself. 3.) Snore.

As I left, I felt sort of guilty about the date as a whole. Bernard is a nice guy, he sent me a Get Well Soon Cuddle Bear when I was sick! But there was something about our date tonight that was off. (Besides me being a bad lay when sober.)

Maybe I felt guilty because I didn’t spend the night. Maybe I felt guilty because I let him buy dinner for me again. Or maybe I felt guilty because during our post-coital cuddle, I thought about e-mailing Henry, my Sunday brunch date…. Yeah, it was probably that last one.

(DAY 159) Date #13: Henry.

13 has always been my favorite number, and today it didn’t disappoint.

This morning I had a brunch date with Henry, a painter and fellow Brooklynite. It was a beautiful, sunny day outside and we had a nice, leisurely two hour brunch. Henry was soft spoken but very talkative. There were no awkward pauses and nothing seemed forced. Either I’m getting better at opening up to strangers, or Henry and I had a good connection.

I also reached another milestone today, because at the end of the date I was able to say “Thanks, I enjoyed this… we should really hang out again,” without blushing like a 13 year old girl talking to her Zac Efron poster.

In fear of jinxing it, I’m not going to say anything else about my date.

Instead, let’s talk about the Oscars!!!

Here’s are my awards for the awards:

Best Speech: Tilda Swinton.

Worst Speech: Old guy who rambled on and thanked Nicole Kidman.

Hottest Hottie: Javier!

Most Enduring: French Chick (she cried when her make-up team won!) and Once Chick.

Most Un-enduring: Any song from Enchanted

Best Presenter: J-Hud!

Best Use of a Gay Icon in the Montage Clips: Liza!!! (Who’s four clips beat out Cher and Boring Old Barbara.)