Charming Charlie

I have a special knack for meeting gentlemen (and asshats) in random places. As a result, I have never met anyone on Match.com. Nor have I ever bothered paying for eHarmony.com (In fact, I've never been a member for longer than the five free days.)*

Anyway, like most of my (chick) friends over 30, I found myself running into these random men less and less often. Unlike my friends, I didn't blame it on my age. I blamed it on my newly claimed relationship status. I'm still cute, so clearly the Youngblood sent out a bat signal...cockblocking me everywhere for a 90 mile radius. Natch. Admittedly, his signal was totally lost on bums and skeezy guys. But those are the sorts of guys that will hit on anything in a skirt.

This morning was like any other. I woke up, got my cardio on at the gym, and then came back and took a quick cat nap. That cat nap was TOTALLY worth running late to work. Who knows, maybe it was karma that I took that nap, which led me to get on a later train. Okay, let's not be all dramatic about it. I was running late, I got on a train, I sat next to a nondescript guy.

A few stops in, this nondescript guy drops the illest line on me ever in life. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him shifting and looking at me. And I am assuming he's the only person on the planet to get off at a stop prior to downtown. But no, he says to me...wait for it... "I'm sorry, but I have to ask. What perfume are you wearing? It's amazing and it's just so subtle. It's great." I don't have the heart to tell him that he isn't smelling my perfume that's buried under a sweater, coat, and scarf. Rather, the "subtle" sent he's smelling is Jergens Original Scent. Who doesn't love Cherry Almond? Instead, I tell him the name of the perfume that I did spray on before I got dressed.**

This, my dear readers, was his in. He used this to start an entire conversation. Over the course of the next three stops, I found myself staring into his baby blues, and watching him lick his lips, as he waxed poetic about how good it smells inside of Bath and Body Works. And that he's a philosophy major at a local university. And he wants to go to law school. Because he wants to use a law degree to be able to make a peaceful difference in a lot of causes he cares about. (Ugh. Pre-law students. Gag me with a spoon). Of course, I discouraged him from going to law school. And then I told him that if he truly thought he wanted to go, he should meet with lawyers and learn about their experience. To which he asked for my card. STOP. This is the part where we note that I am not attracted to this guy, at all. He's too young, too short, and doesn't appear to get enough sun. Fortunately, I don't have any cards on me. And I got to say the greatest line ever "google me, and you'll be able to find me."

So, I get off the train, and walk with a little bit of pep in my step. This small act reminded me that I still got it. But, more importantly, it showed me that there are men out there who still have the smooooveness that was so epically personified by Billy Dee Williams. This guy, even though he wasn't my type, completely succeeded in getting my attention, engaged me in actual conversation, and wasn't totally skeezy about it. This philosophy major may need to re-think law school, and open up a charm school.



*And what is up with the "flex matches"?!? Look here, Neil Clark Warren, if I wanted to be forced to settle then why do I need to pay you to set me up with men that I wouldn't normally be attracted to? All I need to do to find those guys is go outside and throw a rock. Your whole point is to find my perfect match, isn't it? Ok then.

**Bath and Body Works Forever Midnight, for those keeping track.

An update

Here's the latest scoop on what's been happening with the boys on my island.

The gym rat: no word yet. Checked in with the Titan to ask him if he had turned over my number. He said he hadn't -- yet. His plan was to try to run into the guy at the gym and try to find out if he was interested, and to pass on my number. So, I told the Titan to go ahead, but to not be weird about it. Even though this conversation was by text, I could totally feel him giving me side eye, because his response was "I know how to do this, pheebs. ;)". Well -- don't let me stop you, cuz that boy was fiiiiiiiiiiiine*.

The Titan: While I'm on the subject of the Titan, there's nothing going on there. He is not my man, we are not dating, we are not going to revisit (for the third time!!!) a relationship. Yes, he still calls me nearly everyday. Yes, he is seeing someone else. Yes, that is very strange. No, I'm not going to do anything about it....if it ain't broke, don't fix it!

The round guy: Never called. YAY!**

The hot cop: I can't say that my social experiment has been going all that wonderfully. For one thing, I don't have the patience to play games with the phone. I don't like to not answer a text message, and if something is on my mind, I want to be able to send a text. That said, I did break a cardinal rule and institute a "talk." But, it was just a baby, pint-sized talk. Basically, I just noted that I'm way too awesome to just be a jump-off, so he should actually put forth some effort if he wanted to hook up ever again. But, I couched it on either side with funny and snarky comments. This is his first week off work in something like 6 weeks -- I haven't been asked out yet. My guess? My original hunch that he was hoping to be a day tripper on the island only, and isn't looking to take up any kind of residency or visit schedule was right. I do think we'll always have some sort of snarky text exchange -- our humor is too similar not to :). Other than that, I'm just hanging out, waiting to see what happens next.

The young blood: We have been spending an awful lot of time together lately. He invites himself over to my house, and I instruct him to take me out to dinner. Although, he's stopped paying. He is definitely making sure he stays top of mind, but he hasn't made any romantic overtures. I'm not sure what the deal is, but I figure I might as well ride it out (if for no other reason than it's nice to have male companionship every once in a while -- even if it is missing a romantic element.)

*Which reminds me. The night we were out, the Titan took one look at the gym rat, and said "yeah, he's kinda like me. If I'm Plan A, he's Plan B." HAHAHAHA. The awesome part about that? He was dead serious.

**I'm headed out to throw salt over my shoulder now, to avoid jinxing myself.

Experiment, First Observation

So, it went 3 days without contact. Even though it's my nature to respond to texts and phone calls instantly, I didn't this time. It took every ounce of restraint I had to wait 8 hours to get back to him. Actually, since I was annoyed that it took 3 days for him to bother contacting me, it wasn't as difficult as it would normally be.

Now, the last time I waited so long to respond, I ended up with 5 text messages and a phone call in the middle. This time, only 3 text messages -- but they were rapid-fire. Less frantic this time. Anyway, I didn't get several texts and calls this time. But I certainly got a comment. Something to the effect of "wow...nice response times." Later on in the conversation, he asked "so who's the new male interest?" I didn't respond. Honestly, what would be the point? At the moment, there are no other suitors (unless you count the youngblood's psuedo attempt at a comeback); but I don't see what good it does to tell him that. Frankly, I am a little confused as to why he asked me in the first place.

After I was done talking to him, I cut it off. I was out getting my boogey on with the Titan at a local joint...testing the waters to see if I still got it (I do). Hot cop had been working for something like 24 hours, and I suspect was using me as entertainment to keep himself awake. Humph. Not my job. So, when I was done, I cut it off.

No increased chasing yet. I did get more proof that he's just not that into me, though. So far, the self-help-y book writers have a point. Let the experiment continue... :)

Social Experiment 2/17/2012

I forgot to hit the publish button on Friday...but better late than never, right?

So, the hot cop has been more or less opposed to being more than a day tripper on the island. Despite grand overtures in the first couple weeks, it has since fizzled to little more than a random text exchanges here and there.

I first suspected something was up when I left for New Orleans, and the Titan asked me to text him when I got there safely, and the hot cop didn’t really know when I was leaving or when I was supposed to arrive in NOLA. When I finally did hear from him, he was pretty nonchalant about what I was doing and who I was with – even though I tried to get a rise out of him. Given his indifference, I assume that his time on my island was up and that would be that. Of course, nothing is ever that simple with me, is it?

Without getting into too many details, let’s just say that it’s been over a month since we’ve been out, and communication has gone from everyday all day, to 2-3 days with no contact. When there is contact, it’s filled with sweet words and random proclamations (“I miss you.”). But, as I told this dude, actions speak louder than words. And his current actions scream “it’s been real. But I’m just not into you. Kthxbye!”

As my friends and family know, I wasn’t that into this guy in the early days. He just didn’t trip my trigger. Then, something happened and we seemed to click. That only lasted a couple weeks though, so it could easily be swept under the rug and just added to the list of dates I went on just for the stories. Why take it any further, right? Well, two reasons. First, when we were getting along for those 5 minutes, we got along quite well. And during one of the phone-blowing-up periods, he said that he was switching back to the day shift, which he hopes will allow more time for us to get together. Second, I decided I wanted to try a little social experiment.

I’ve read exactly 3 self-help-y relationship books in my lifetime: He’s Just Not that Into You, by Greg Behrendt and Liz Tucillo; Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man, by Steve Harvey; and Why Men Love Bitches, by Sherry Argov. Each of these were pretty good for a laugh. The first was written by writers for a TV show, the second by an awesome comedian, and the third was recommended to me – and ended up being pretty funny. They all have more or less the same general themes. One of these is “don’t be so accessible…he’ll run to come find you.” As a general rule, I don’t take advice from pop-psychology books. I’m always a little cynical about books written by people about clearly individualized situations. But, since they all say essentially the same thing, I thought I’d give it a shot.

So here are the general rules. (With each specific situation to be analyzed on a case-by-case basis).

1. Do not respond to every contact right away. Do not always be available.
2. Turn down some of his offers for a date. Don't be easy to catch.
3. When you do go out, don't be clingy.
4. Don't be all mother-hen-ish. Seriously, no man wants to date his mother.
5. Don't accept shenanigans. If he's not treating you the way you want to be treated, bounce.
6. Don't show all your cards right away.
7. Do not, ever, feel the need to "talk". It's too early for this.

Let's see where this little adventure takes us...shall we?

Sowwy...

The past couple weeks, I have been disappointed/irritated/angered by guys. Usually they’ve apologized, and haven’t repeated whatever mistake they made. And yet, I find that after the apology, I was still dissatisfied. I wanted flowers or a mixtape or chocolates or a nice dinner or SOMETHING! What ever happened to the holy art of making it up to a woman? (Because let's face it, the concept was invented by men who were put in the dog house by women scorned).

Brother once told me that he didn't like to take flowers home when he was in trouble, because he didn't want to create that expectation. You know what I say to that? Fine, then what DO you do? Sometimes, an apology is enough. But sometimes, you want the other person to feel the same pain you did when they pissed you off. (Yeah, I said it). Fellas, word of advice? I suggest you buy something for your lady or do something for her if you mess up. I mean, how hard is it to bring her favorite dinner if you didn't notice that she chopped 5 inches off of her hair? Or, how about buying flowers after an argument about whether you could watch the game and skip her sister's baby shower?*

And speaking of flowers. Flowers are making me insane. What's the expression? Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results is the definition of insanity. Well, I continue to see fellas and expect that they are buying flowers. Turns out? Not the case. If I were a dude, I'd have women falling all over themselves for me, because I would be buying flowers on the regular. And fellas? I haven't forgotten you. Women aren't cooking anymore, are they? Y'all have totally gotten the shaft on that one. So, let's make a Mars and Venus deal. The boys start bringing flowers to put on the table next to the home-cooked meal made by the girls. Ok? Deal? Deal! Just call me the Great Negotiator.

*Clearly a hypothetical. Of COURSE you skip the baby shower.

Deep Waters

Jade and I often talk about our tastes in the opposite gender. Turns out, we are both into the hot boys. This is not news. Problem is, we are both forever destined to be branded as shallow. If you ask me, that's just patently unfair. Behold, I shall defend those who want a handsome fella or pretty gal on their arm just as much as they want a smart man or woman.

First of all, no one is saying that what an individual finds attractive is going to be the same as everyone else's. No where is this more evident than the recent crowning of Jennifer Aniston as the The Hottest Woman of All Time or some such thing. (Leading legions of people to say "what the hell?!!?!"*) The point is that everyone has a threshold of attractiveness. And if you're honest with yourself, you know you have certain attributes that you like.

Secondly, I once read somewhere that couples who are in love and married for a long time never update their images of their spouses. Whatever the spouse looked like when they were young is what you'll be picturing in 15 years. Isn't that an image you'd like to look at? Yeah, I thought so.

Finally, I've said it once, and I'll say it again. No matter what the personality is, eventually you'll have to want to see the person naked. I'm not saying you have to jump into the sack on the first date.** But for real, how enjoyable is the horizontal mambo going to be if you can't stand to look at the person? I mean seriously, a paper bag is only effective for the face. And is bound to get in the way of kissing.

Call me shallow if you like -- but I intend to enjoy looking at my significant other (with or without clothes). And I suspect you plan to do the same. You just don't want to admit it. So fine then...I'll be the shallow one. You be the liar. :-*


*Or maybe that was just me. Who vote on this anyway? Jennifer Aniston -- really?!!

**In fact, no you may not on the first date, tramp. Keep your pants up. :-P

Would you rather...?

So, this morning I got to thinking...dating is basically a series of "Would you rather...?" scenarios. "Would you rather" is basically a question of 2 undesirable or worst case scenarios that are given to you, and then you have to pick one. There is no opt out, no escape hatch, nada. You must pick one. So, for example: would you rather spend an hour in a dark cave, with no light, and several creepy crawly critters, or would you rather swim in the Chicago River for 10 minutes.

If you ask me, dating is just one big game of "would you rather?" So, would you rather have mind-blowing sex once a week with a super hot guy who is clearly dating other women...OR date a mediocre looking guy with mind-numbingly boring sex who adores you?

Would you rather date a guy who has a decent job, but may never make it big...OR date an entrepreneur who might hit it really REALLY big someday, but may never have a steady income?

Would you rather date a guy who is super hot but has bad breath...OR date a guy who has truly awful fashion choices and refuses to change?

Would you rather date a man who is recently separated with two kids who is a really good dad (and therefore may cancel for things like taking his kid to a birthday party)...OR a man who lives in a different state than his kid and sees the kid sporadically?

Would you rather date a pothead exclusively...OR a guy who doesn't have a vice at all, and is so straight-laced his backbone could double as Marie Antoinette's corset?

Would you rather date a guy who is 5 years younger than you (but really mature) who isn't affectionate...OR a guy who is really affectionate and 2 years older than you (but refuses to grow up)?

Would you rather be a football widow once a week, or would you rather date a man who asks for a hall pass to go to Rio once a year?

And so it goes. (Of course the same applies for men, but given I have a lot less experience dating women, I'm going to have to leave it to the fellas to figure your own worst case scenarios out...)


The problem with the would-you-rather game, is that it's difficult to see the other side. If you ask me, a lot of singletons out there are stuck in the game, and are choosing the "or" instead of whoever they're with. My guess is, no one really thinks single is an option -- at least not at first. So, you go merrily along, hoping to find out what's on the other side of the "or" and hoping that you like it. At the end of the day, you just keep jumping from one worst case scenario to the next. The dating scene is a constant stream of blindly picking the other side, hoping that you made the right choice.

Truth be told, you can see all of the worst case scenarios out there, but you can't see yourself as the worst case scenario. So, would you rather date a pretty girl with ridiculous body image issues or an average girl that won't sleep with you or a complete idiot, or an egotistical girl who thinks her poo don't stank, or a *ahem* physical girl, or a nerd or a materialistic girl or a shallow girl or or OR.* Most people who are still searching for their "or" probably find it difficult to believe that they aren't the total package for someone. Wake up and smell the latte, my friend. Everyone is on the wrong side of somebody's "or." The key is to find who trips your trigger so much that you don't care what's on the other side, because you've got everything you need in him (or her).

Until you find that one, though, keep trying. First of all, the best way to get over a man is to get under a new one. Second of all, you can't find your match if you don't keep looking. And third -- you know what I always say...it's ALWAYS worth it for the story. :}


*having been called all of these, I'm not trying to offend anyone. With the exception of idiot or shallow. I've never been called either of those -- which is surprising, given the ratio of vapid to intelligent moments I have. (Roughly 10:1).

Twos

The last two days have been filled with pairs. At first, I didn't even notice it. And then, it started to become a little more obvious. Allow me to explain:

Number of exes that have professed their desire to get back together: 2.
Number of exes that I believe are completely full of it when it comes to trying again: 2.
Number of times I've been approached about going on a date with someone from Facebook: 2.
Number of times I said I'd do it if for no other reason than for the story: 2.
Number of guys in or around my office who have a crush on me: 2.
And so, you see the theme.

I've always suspected that the Titan hangs around as an insurance policy. I think he's got me as a back up plan -- in the event he doesn't find something better, he knows that I'll make a good to decent wife (his words). Yesterday was the first time he finally admitted to wanting to try again. But, wait for it. Did he ask me out at that point? Nope. He said he wanted to try it again, and I quote: "down the line." To quote SiQ's sister, what in the fresh hell is that?! Is there no honor in dating anymore? Isn't that one of those things you keep inside your head? Perhaps it would have been more effective if he just said to me "hey, if we're both still single in 5 years, let's get married, k?" Ohhh wait, he has said that to me. Look man, you're really good at helping me with my fantasy team and all, but kick rocks. We are so not going to get back together.

Side note? He came out of left field, showing signs of intelligence again. I said to him: "hey, what would we talk about if we never talked about football?" And he says, "lots of things. Like, how about Obama withdrawing the troops out of the Middle East. What do you think about that? I think it's about time." Zwrrrrrrrr. Say what? Who are you?!

Anyway, when I was working at my first job, I learned a valuable lesson about going out with people who work places where you frequent. After a brief interaction with 'bux (this guy), I became intimately familiar with the awkwardness that happens when it doesn't work out. (Remember this?) The lesson is, if you go there often, do NOT go out on a date with these people, unless you're prepared to change your routine in its entirety if things go south. This rule is particularly important at your local Starbucks, the gym, your office, and anywhere else you're bound to be at least once a week. Sadly, the only two people on the planet who have a crush on me are stationed at my local Starbucks and my office building. The Starbucks guy has been professing his crush for almost as long as I've been at this job. Fortunately, he's bought the excuse that I've got a boyfriend for most of that time. (It helps that he was there when Astro went to get me a chai -- back when he was doing an effective job of courting me). This Starbucks guy also has a kid and is still in school. Furthermore, I'm just not interested in seeing him naked. Like, ever. So...pass on that. It would for sure end, it would be awkward, and then I'd have to re-route my 'bux habit. Nobody wants that.

The other guy, is the doorman in my office building. It took a minute for him to build up to actually expressing his crush. In fact, he hasn't actually claimed it, yet. But it's officially the worst kept secret. He gives me a hard time, which is fun. He always holds the elevator door open for me, and walks across the lobby with me to the backdoor. It's pretty endearing. But, it would be even more awkward when it didn't work out!* He works at the door of the building for heaven's sake. There is no getting around seeing him after a breakup. We'll just have to maintain our relationship at the lobby flirting level :).

Meanwhile, the date with Mr. Smiling Irish Eyes did not happen on Monday (much to the chagrin of friends everywhere). There is a possibility that it could happen tomorrow, because the plans which were made were tentative. We'll see. I promise an update if it happens!

Hmm, maybe all these twos have a lot to do with the weather. I always say, when it gets cold out, the snow bunnies start looking for someone to pair up with. All we need now is for one of these snow bunnies to be my kind of snow bunny.


*For the record, I'm making a lot of assumptions here. It's not that I think I'm hot stuff. By the way, my proof came today when he told me that since we were fighting, he thought we should kiss and make up. I giggled -- it was kinda funny.

So worth it!

As we learned in the last post, a good story is always worth the hassle. Well, I tested this theory again earlier this week.

On Tuesday, Astro called me (out of the blue)* and asked me to go with him to a political fundraiser (aka networking event). Given my desire to raise my status as a super connector, I agreed to go.

When we got there, it quickly became apparent that I was going to have to make an adjustment to my strategy. Back when Astro was a "current" rather than an "ex" boyfriend, I'd often be more of a Jackie O rather than a Michelle O**. But, as an ex, I'm no longer obligated to fulfill that role. I'm not saying this is a bad thing, just a matter of course. So, we separate, and he goes off to meet his next investor, and I go off to meet my next sucker, er, client.

As I'm speaking to a woman, there is a guy who is standing a few yards away. He is oh, maybe just under 6 feet tall, has slicked back dark hair; a gray gimlet patterned suit, with a shiny blue tie; a shiny and obvious watch, and a tan. Basically, if someone were to play him in a movie, it'd be Robert De Niro (before he went gray). Oh, except Italian, he was Irish. (We'll get to how I know that in a minute.) So, I'm talking to this lady, and smiling Irish eyes says "wait a second...did she (meaning me) just say she's married?!" Ok. Entertaining, sure. I did like the boldness, that was cool. But, whatevs. The lady and I continue our conversation. Shortly thereafter, smiling Irish eyes says "hey Mrs. Irish Eyes, what would you like to drink?" (Ok, stop. Before you get all excited, we were at an event with an open bar.) The lady I'd been talking to was getting ready to leave, on her way out she says "this is the type of event where you could end up getting married. (sly smile)."

Well, Mr. smiling Irish eyes gets my white wine and hands it to me. I thank him for it, and he pulls me to the bar, and offers me a seat. He says "you're too beautiful to be standing." (Yes really, I'm so not making this up.) We chat for 3 minutes, he tells me he's Irish, and a friend of his walks over. The friend of SIE ask me who I came with and what he does. So I say I came with a friend who is a venture capitalist. Mr. SIE says "my friend and I are venture capitalists. We just put an in-flux of money into the economy whenever we go shopping. I always buy women's clothes and jewelry but I have nothing to do with it."***

Now, this guy is laying it on pretty thick, to the point of being comical. Except, he's being totally serious. Anyway, he goes on to say that if I want to get married, his friend is a rabbi so the friend can marry us upstairs.**** I politely decline the marriage proposal. So, it's time for them to go. Mr. SIE asks for my card, which I hand over. (Like I said, there may be a legit business prospect there, but I can't remember what he said he did. Mainly because I wasn't listening closely enough to retain anything he said). He then reaches in his pocket to hand me his card. And....it's his Amex Platinum. Yes, dear readers. He actually hands me his Amex. Now, we've just taken the evening to a whole new level. I don't even know what the appropriate reaction is at this point.

So, I'm telling this story to my co-workers, and they're all equally horrified. And so I say, well I'll let you know how the date goes. One of the girls says, "wait, what? You're actually going out with this guy?!" So, I look at her dead in the eye: "hell yeah! Either way, I get paid...either a nice dinner OR actual business because the dude has money. Either way it works out for me. And anyway, when a chance like this comes, you always ALWAYS go all in just for the story!"

So, here's hoping the sequel is just as good as the first story. Oh smiling Irish eyes, what else could you possibly bring?



*Side note? You know what really puts a bee in my bonnet? People who don't return messages -- voice OR texts! And, frankly, I'm tired of hearing that he's "busy." As near as I can tell, he just dix around all day on the computer and goes to "meetings" (most assuredly those meetings are with his dealer. If you ask me). Anyway, I don't care how damn busy a person is, unless your last name is preceded by "President of the United States" you are NOT THAT DAMN BUSY. PICK UP YOUR PHONE!!!! Ok, side bar over.

**In other words, a Jackie O is a pretty girl that is seen and not heard (and likely running ish in the background). A Michelle O is ahead of her game, and doin' her own thang (and STILL running ish in the background).

***Yes, really. I'm not making this up!

****Nearly forgot the best part. The event was held at the set of the recently cancelled "Playboy Club." Yup. Just adds a layer of shenanigans, doesn't it?

The Story that Almost Was

This weekend I travelled to Seattle to lay some smack down on Conference First Timers. The flight out west is sooooo far. (It's halfway to London for heaven's sake!!)

Anyway, I managed to get myself a window seat on the plane, and in a row where the middle seat was empty. Score! So, after making polite small talk, the guy on the aisle fell silent...leaving me the opportunity to engage in a power nap. Well, when I woke up a short while later (deep, satisfying sleep turned out to be elusive), I discovered that the once vacant middle seat had been occupied. Boo Hiss Boo!! The guy that sat there was a guy who apparently was a comedian. He was travelling to Seattle for a show, but he wasn't famous (seriously -- the guy in the aisle actually asked him that!).

Turns out, he moved to our section because he was going to go crazy. He'd been sitting next to a guy that apparently believed showering was optional. And, behind him, the kid that had been disturbing all of us with his cries of "no! No! NO! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" had also been kicking the back of his seat. He said it was so bad that he gave up the window seat to move into a middle seat. He feared that if he hadn't, he would've been the subject of every passenger's conversation: "OMG! Did you see that black guy who....". And so, I ended up with a new seatmate.

For the first hour of the 4 hour tour, he and I didn't really chat. It wasn't until snack time came around that we really started chatting. The comedian was living in NYC, but originally from Philly. He graduated with a degree in engineering, but decided to try pursuing comedy instead. He would be in Seattle for 2 days, and performing 2 shows. We discussed everything from television to seafood. We even stuck together for the walk from the airplane to the baggage claim. He asked for my card, and promised to get in touch later.

Now, I know you're all dying to know. Did I find him attractive? Could I see myself moving to NYC for him? Would I DO him?!!?! The answer is no. He just wasn't necessarily my type. (And by not necessarily, I mean not at all). But, I was really amped up about the whole scene because I have NEVER been hit on while I was on a plane. I'm just not the type of girl that gets looked at twice on a plane. Nor do I have the type of luck that involves a man giving me a second look when alcohol is not involved.* So, I was extra excited about having airplane comedian get in contact with me. (And for the record, I was exercising my right not to wear makeup that day).

Turns out, he did shoot me an email. And, we made tentative plans. I was totally in it, just for the story. Why? Because I love you, dear readers. I was going to endure what could turn out to be a disaster date just for y'all. Well, I met him at the comedy club where he was doing his show...and DL Hugley showed up! After that, he was free to head out, so he did a quick change and took me out for cocktails and dessert. Believe it or not, he had flowers waiting backstage for me! They were gorgeous!! (Admittedly, my first thought was: "how the eff am I going to get these back home on the plane?"). He took me to a great little bistro that....just kidding. None of that ever happened. Sadly, it never happened. Our schedules just didn't match up. But, just knowing that I almost got a date with a guy from the plane is bound to make a girl feel good!


*Or, when he isn't a homeless guy on the street. Or, a guy that just wants a hug. (eyeroll).

I figured it out!

I have finally figured out why chivalry is dead. This morning on my way to work, I jumped on the el like a bunch of other people. The train car I got on was full, but not quite crowded. I was the 2nd person on my side of the car, preceded by a young man. There was one seat left, and he took it. Actually, he looked at me, and then sat down. I proceeded through the car and started to lament the death of chivalry. That's when I realized that I think I've figured out the reason why it died.

So, back in the day when men were giving up seats for ladies, opening doors, and generally being gentlemanly, women were...well...expected to be quiet, for lack of a better word. Proper ladies were meant to dress nicely, take care of their man, cook dinner, mind the children, do the laundry, and basically be a domestic goddess. They were not off galavanting around, running board rooms, getting advanced degrees, or earning the big bucks. Unfortunately, they also weren't expected to really have much of an opinion or cause a whole lot of ruckus outside of the home. As a trade off, men were the great big providers, protecting women and giving them special treatment, just because they were ladies.

Around the time that feminism took hold, (I assume) women decided that the trade-off was totally not worth it. Women were capable of kickin' ass and takin' names outside of the home, and we wanted the right to prove it. And prove it we have! I think at this point, most men understand that women can do something other than cook and clean. But, it would seem to me that men started to feel cheated. Now, women are on equal footing and, near as I can tell, men aren't especially motivated to give them that extra-special treatment. It's like some sort of loophole that the feminists didn't contemplate. Who woulda thought that the price of entering the boardroom was being required to stand on the el? Or split the check on a date? Or be expected to put out right away?

This point was really driven home when I thought back to old relationships. The Titan was all for the modern woman. He wanted a woman who could do it all. But the boy didn't do anything to show that I was special. (As in, I'm pretty sure we split every check, and I saw nary a flower). On the other side, Astro treated me like a special lady. Actually, he gave me some pretty convincing evidence that chivalry isn't totally dead: During the first few months of our relationship, he bought flowers, paid for dinner, gave foot rubs. All in all, the perfect guy, right? The only thing I was required to do was be a well-refined and well-educated lady in the streets, and a freak in the bed. Easy peasy, right? Right. But* after our first argument, when I expressed an opinion that was contrary to his, chivalry kicked the bucket. Basically, he looked at me, and then took the last seat.

What I don't understand, my boys, is why is it that there's no such thing as a happy medium? Yes, I'd like to have my own opinions, and (continue) to kick ass and take names. But I'd also like the guy I'm dating to open doors, give foot rubs, and just be a gentlmanly kind of guy. I find this especially perplexing when women have been balancing for generations. Seriously, if we are able to complete the epic task of keeping or freak in the bed and off the street, and our lady in the street and off the bed, why can't you be a gentleman that doesn't feel emasculated when a chick knows that that was TOTALLY pass interference and Calvin Johnson and the Lions was absolutely robbed last season? For real boys. Your head won't explode, I promise.



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*There's always a a but, isn't there.

Adventures on the eL

Lately, all of my adventures have been happening on the el. And, my adventures have mostly (ok totally) been adventures of a boy-crazy teenaged girl. *shrug*

First, on my way home yesterday, I noticed a very well dressed young brotha get on the train just ahead of me. He had on an athletic cut pinstriped suit. (Navy blue with gray stripes for those keeping track). He was well accessorized with a tie, great shoes, and a pocket square. He had a rather unfortunate scar on his bald head...you know probably as a result of being probed by aliens or getting into a fist fight with a weed wacker (he won); but I was totally willing to overlook it because he was so very well put together -- and because he carried himself so well. I took it upon myself to sit right next to him, in hopes of getting a rise out of him. He wasn't looking at me when I sat, so I didn't bother with the flirty half-smile. Instead, I made small production of sitting down and pulling out my copy of the RedEye. When he STILL didn't do anything, I giggled at an article. I don't remember what the article was about, but it probably wasn't nearly as funny as I made it seem. And? Still nothing from Mr. Pinstripe Man. So, I continued reading, dejected at the lack of forthcoming pickup line. But, we had been on the train together for a mere 5 minutes; so I didn't mourn our relationship for too long.

I proceeded to the sports section of the RedEye, where I legitimately did laugh at an article about Cutler. (Football's greatest actor). And this is when Mr. Pinstripe decided to say something. He opened with "how are you today?" Or something equally banal. I responded, and followed my fine with "just laughing at this article on Cutler...[blah blah blah] I heart football." And he said something about the Bears, and I made a snide comment about the Packers being far superior. And then, our newly budding relationship was over. He made a comment about the Bears being the city team and awesome, and I pointed out that we'd won more Super Bowls. (The sitcom voice-over that I sometimes have in my head said something like -- "and that's how he knew it would never work. He bled blue and orange, and she was a cheesehead. They were doomed from the very beginning..." What? I'm the only person with a sitcom voiceover in my head?) For the next two stops, there was a cold silence between us. When I got off the train, I looked back at him, and he totally avoided eye contact. Whatevs. I was over it.

It wasn't until I was about halfway down the stairs when it hit me. That dude only said something to me because he thought I was making all kinds of noise to get him to notice and/or talk to me! So what if it's partially (ok, mostly) true?! Dude, you're not supposed to make it so obvious that you realized what I was doing!! Also? I'm not that desperate. I don't tend to find my dates on public transpo, ok? My dates? Are men I meet in retail stores, thank you.* I don't need you, Mr. Pinstripe. Ok? I can find a date. I just wanted to have a little fun. Geez!


Anyhoo. This morning, I was sitting on the train, reading whatever silly book Amazon had on Kindle for free.** (Incidentally, the free books are generally colossally stupid, and I tend to lose a few brain cells whenever I read them.) So, I'm reading, and we come up to the next stop. I didn't see the man get on, but I sensed him sit next to me. When I looked at him out of the side of my eye, I noticed he was a tall brother in good shape. I didn't see his face from the front, but his profile was nice, a good strong jaw. And then, I got a good whiff -- ewwwww. He was a smoker! Unacceptable. Moving on.

So, on the way back from work, I was headed to the train, and on the way, I pass a Fannie May. I've managed to resist the urge to go in and buy several chocolatey delights, but today it was a struggle! As I was passing the big picture window, I noticed a young Latino gentleman. He was cleaning the counters or packaging candies or...hell I don't know (or care) what he was doing. But the boy was fiiiiiiiiiiine. He had a close-cropped haircut, just this side of a buzz cut. He had on black pants (maybe jeans? Which I hear are back in for men); and a black tank. The tank showed off his lovely muscles, smooth skin, and inverted triangle shape. And then, he had a nice tat on his right forearm. It was pretty big...and just enough badass to make any girl smile. I am pretty sure he caught me lookin' ...but I don't care. Clearly, I didn't learn ANYTHING yesterday. HA!

Hey, at least my commute is never dull!

*See: 'bux boyfriend (Starbucks); Astro (at the See Eyewear); Spritely Asian Guy (Sunglasses Hut)

**Side note? Why the eff are books so expensive on the Kindle? I thought the whole point is that it was cheaper and quicker. What's the point of owning a Kindle if the e-book is just as expensive as the hardcover -- and more expensive than the paperback?! AND I can't get awesome books from the library? Please oh please explain the point. Seriously, Amazon. You built your empire on cheap books. Let's return to our roots, shall we?

Silver Lining and all that

Given that I am ever the optimist, I try to find the bright side of things. (No seriously! Ok, not really.) Recently, I rediscovered one of my favorite silver linings, and I thought I'd share.

Ending a relationship is always a tough thing. There is a period of sadness and mourning that inevitably follows. And I don't know about you, but it seems to me that the shorter the relationship, the longer my mourning period.*

But, after you mourn and contemplate and do whatever it is you do to get over a man,** a bright side will emerge. Yesterday, I came across one of the best break-up benefits EVER! I found a pair of pajama pants that the young blood left at my house. I was just lounging about the house, maxing and chillaxin', enjoying the holiday off. They were soooooo comfortable. I can't say that I looked great in them; but I've learned something over the years***. Men find women sexiest when they are au naturel. No make-up, loose sweats, and a tank top. The relaxed and comfy look will do just as much as the dominatrix, lacy, Vicki's not-so-secret Secrets look. (Of course, maybe it's just easier to take off and that's why men like it).

Over the years, I've collected quite a few ex-boyfriend clothing items. T-shirts, pajama pants, an AWESOME flannel shirt from the Ninja. It's been great! I am still searching for the holy grail of ex-clothing...I gotta get myself an awesome sweatshirt from one of the basketball player guys. I think men are on to us now though...the sweatshirt is soooooo hard to come by.


*It took me a couple weeks to get over the young blood from the southside. We dated for 6 months. Astro? I'm pretty sure it took a good year -- and we dated for 3-4 months. WTH?!

**Including getting under a new one. :)

***Bonus bright side!

Why do I bother?

The Titan and I have a recurring conversation about the way men and women treat each other. My argument is that men don't court women anymore. As proof, I always point to anecdotal evidence. Usually, just to drive the point home, I remind the Titan that when it came to wooing, he opted out entirely.*

A common (and irritating) response the Titan has is the notion that there are women out there who don't want a man to do things for them. The Titan has told me about all kinds of girls who want to buy men dinner, who want to buy their own drinks, and who want to do things for their man. *gag* I get so tired of hearing this from the Titan. For one, he refuses to acknowledge the reason he keeps running into these women is because he's an insanely tall basketball player dude with a pretty face, a tight fade, and clean cut goatee.** And, he played basketball through high school and college. He? Is being approached by jersey chasers. And jersey chasers are willing to do anything to get it in. I can't say that I blame him for getting with those chicks. If I was a dude that looked like him, I wouldn't woo anybody either! I mean for reals? Why bother when you can get a piece for free?!

What actually drives me bananas is that there are girls who aren't demanding romance from regular guys. And then you end up with men walking around thinking they don't have to do a darn thing to keep a woman. These women are ruining it for other women around the world. They're relaxing of standards are making men lazy...and then men start looking at women who demand more like they're asking too much. You expect them to buy dinner, and they think you're a gold-digger. You refuse to go to bed with them on the first date, and you're a prude (or worse, a tease). You easy ladies out there, that don't need anything? Bite me. Keep to the self-absorbed men that wouldn't do anything for a woman anyway, okay? Quality women don't want those guys anyway. But stay the eff away from the quality men. The ones whose mamas and daddies taught them that you have to put in some work to get a woman. I don't want your dumbass undoing all of his good habits. Ok?

And men? If what you want is a woman who wants to buy you dinner, buy you presents when she travels, and cook, and be a freak in the bed all in exchange for you doing squat...keep it movin'. I ain't cha girl. As my friend Jade always says... NEXT ----------------->




*To which he almost always says that I didn't give him a fair chance. Whatever -- that's a chicken or the egg conversation that just isn't worth having.

**Incidentally, if I had a type...this is what my friends would say it is.

Manscaping

There's a trend that's been brewing for a while called manscaping. I think the term was coined by the Queer Eye for Straight Guy guys back when Bravo/NBC was running that show. Basically, it's shaving, trimming, and grooming of men's body hair. I find men's opposition to the practice to be more than a little disingenuous. Frankly, I think they are just being whiny and lazy. Women have been landscaping since the day before forever. We manage to do it with minimal complaints.

But I digress. I can understand the confusion among the guys about whether they should bust out the razor. As near as I can tell, women just can't reach a consensus on whether they prefer men smooth as cashmere or rough and burly. I do believe, however, there are certain things that women everywhere agree on. So men? Take note.

1. Back hair is never EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER ok. There isn't a woman (in this country, at least) who wants to see that. If you can't figure out how to get rid of it solo, make an appointment at your local waxer. Word to the wise? Take some tylenol or ibuprofen before you go. Committing follicle-icide by hot wax is no joke. Don't be fooled by the warm soothing feeling of the wax being placed on your skin. That's just a trick that aestheticians play to lull you into a sense of complacency. And then? RRRRIIIIIIIPPPPP! Yeah, it's sorta like that scene from 40 Year Old Virgin -- except not as funny, because it's happening to you. But hey, it's totally necessary, I promise.

2. The unibrow. Pluck it, tweeze it, wax it, thread it. I don't care how you do it, just get rid of it. No one has ever said that Bert was sexy. So unless you've got a banana-shaped head and you're still wearing a stripey-sweater, try to rock 2 eyebrows at all times, mkay? Kthxbye.

3. Underarm hair. Listen, this isn't necessarily a popular one. But the times I've dated a man who kept the underarms smooth and hair-free have turned out to be nothing but pleasant experiences. Some of those guys were the classic pretty-boy metrosexuals that we all know I love. The others told me that they do it because they discovered that it keeps them from being stinky. And you know what's totally acceptable? Not being stinky.

As for the rest of the body hair, I'm all for you taking it off if you've got the body to support it. As it is, I demand a clean cut guy. A tight fade (if that's the cut he's got), clean shaven face, the whole nine. It was only natural that I'd progress to a smooth as cashmere kinda dude. Before I actually experienced it, I thought it might seem weird to touch a man's leg and it be as smooth as mine. But turns out? It's kind of awesome. And honestly? I kind of support men having to put forth a tiny fraction of effort that women have to do each and every day. I mean, even a male peacock displays his plumage. The least a human male could do is build up some pecs (and abs and back and legs) and then take away the layer of fur on top. Just sayin'!

Request Denied

I am addicted to Facebook. Ever since I got an iPod Touch* and later graduated to an iPhone, I have been obsessed with updating my status, checking up on my friends, and posting pics. It's become more than just social media for me. I get a lot of my news, advice, and ideas from Facebook. For example, I got the idea to have a dance party every morning when I wake up. I started listening to B96 in the morning so I could rock out to such gems as Party Rock, and Bottoms Up everyday. I have a new not-so-secret crush on Jay & Julian (not so much on Showbiz Shelley). They're pretty entertaining, and when I'm not busy shaking my groove thang they keep me giggling. One segment they do every week is the "Second Date Update." The premise is that people contact the show if they had a really good first (or first few) dates, and then suddenly they no longer hear from the person.**

One such segment involved a woman who went out with a guy. They had a great first date (according to her), but she never heard from him again. Jay & Julian eventually got the guy to admit that he was pretty unhappy with the surprise "guest" that arrived partway through the date. Turns out, partway through the date, her ex-boyfriend shows up! He found out where she'd be via Facebook. I have two problems with this particular situation. First of all, what kind of guy is intimidated by some random guy that shows up on the date uninvited? He claims that he didn't want to deal with drama, but frankly, how does he know it's drama based on the first meeting? He doesn't. That dude just wasn't confident enough to think he could compete. Bogus.

My second problem with this particular situation was the unannounced and uninvited arrival of the ex. Why are you friending people that you are just dating on Facebook?!?! The fact that the guy arrived was totally that chick's fault. Never NEVER friend someone on Facebook that you're just dating. You can't bitch and moan about the guy/girl you're dating if she's able to read it. Also? Unless you're extra sure you'll be together forever, you're inviting someone into your life that you aren't likely to keep around. How much is it gonna suck when it's time to separate your intertwined internet lives? (Do you really want to know just how "moved on" your former flame is? No, you don't. And finally, there is absolutely NO WAY to un-friend someone without appearing immature -- as though you're one of the mean girls ejecting someone from the lunch table in middle school. Seriously, avoid the hassle. Just say no to friend requests from someone you're just dating. Matter fact, let's make it a hard rule. No friending on Facebook until you're engaged!

*By the way, people. It's an iPOD Touch. Not an i-Touch. Try to get it right. I'm not all trademark Nazi or anything, but damn. Let's try to be accurate, mkay?

**This is why I continue to go out with the Spritely Asian Guy, because I'm afraid he'll call me out on B96 in the morning.

More ideas

There is more than one way to please your mate. The important thing to remember is to actually try to do something nice for him or her. Because I think you should all be making your other significant one happy, I have a few more suggestions! (Who knows, maybe someone will get laid after doing one of these things, right? :P).

For the ladies: Ok guys. I've said it over and over and over and over again (ad nauseum). But, I'll say it again. The key to making your lady happy is doing something for her that will make her smile, NOT because she asked, but because you want to make her smile. But, just in case you need some help on what to do, here's a suggestion. Make her breakfast. Breakfast is the easiest meal to cook, and I'm totally confident that you can handle it. If you aren't a chef, keep it simple. Eggs, toast (or Eggo waffles, or pancakes -- depending on your level of culinary skillz), and your meat of choice (sausage, bacon, ham, turkey or vegetarian varieties of the same). Now, if you're feeling fancy -- and you want to make it extra special, bust out the champagne glasses. Make either mimosas (orange juice and champagne) or bellinis (peach nectar or peach juice, and champagne), or bloody marys (if that's her thang). Whether you serve it in bed or in the kitchen is up to you, her, or house rules. I'll leave that to you.

Ok, if you live together, this is obviously a lot easier. You just sneak out to the kitchen and wake her up with the smell of warm toast. But if you don't live together, then this is what you do. Call her the night or a couple nights before to plan it. But tell her you want to come over early to bring her a breakfast surprise, and that all she has to do is be adorable in her rubber duckie pajamas. Take all your own ingredients, and get your breakfast on. (Or, make a quick stop at IHOP or her fave brunch stop, and bring it on over).*

For the fellas: Ok ladies, we have to do things to remind the guys how lucky they are to have us. I've always said that it's unfair that there is no equivalent of flowers for guys. Most guys disagree, saying that there are all sorts of opportunities for a woman to buy something for her man...we just tend to make a big deal out of it. So, one suggestion is buying him a DVD of a movie you think he'd like...and that you can watch together. To get extra fancy, buy the DVD (hey! no gift wrap required!!), and bust out your grill (if you have one, your broiler or George Foreman if you don't). Girl, just take the plunge and make a steak and potatoes dinner. Yeah, we like the frou frou food, but sometimes a man needs what the Ninja used to call man food. Steak and potatoes, literally. Add in some asparagus and you are good to go. I'll leave the beverage of the evening up to you, since you know your guy better than I do (I hope).

So, I just gave you 1 good date night. What else can a significant other do?

*I wouldn't recommend just dropping by, but if you are dating the type of gal that's cool with the drop by, then go for it.

**Yes, I'm still raising money for the RHAMC. Click Here!

Jedi Mind Trick

Have you ever been in the middle of something, and then found yourself wondering how you got there? This was me yesterday in the middle of my date.

Remember when I said I gave my number to the guy at the sunglasses store? Well, we went out on our first date last night. The entire time, I was wondering how in the dickens dude got my number. Let's review, shall we?

Ok, so I'm in the sunglasses store, minding my own business, trying to find some polarized lenses that won't cost me an arm, leg, and pinky toe. The sales associate is chatting to me, and helping me choose. I suspect he's bored because I'm the only person in the store. But that's fine, because I have some sort of brain malfunction that prevents me from knowing which ones look good on me and which ones make me look like I'm kin to a praying mantis. For the most part, we're just having banal chatter, totally easy-going. So, he rings me up, blah blah blah, I turn to leave. On the way out, he says "hey! You forgot to give me your number!" So I backtrack, and write it down. He says "P.S. This is for my personal use..." (A rather obvious statement, but whatever).

On my way to the train, I'm wondering how it is he got my number. Like, I'm completely confused. During our banal chatter, I just barely caught his name*, noticed he was short, Asian, and 26. And he thought I looked really young. I don't have any recall of being attracted to him. I mean, he was nice and charming, but not necessarily a guy I wanted to go out with.

And yet, here it was Saturday night, and I was going out to dinner with him. For inquiring minds, I wore a knee length turquoise dress (with the extra long straps to wrap in many alluring ways), and kitten heels. When I saw him, he had a great smile, was casually dressed in a plaid button down with the sleeves rolled, and jeans. And...he was shorter than me in kitten heels. Say what?!**

The thing is, it was a nice date. I got a strong impression that he thought I was out of his league (I have no idea why he'd think that) and that made me a bit uncomfortable. Other than that, conversation was good (admittedly, I got a little chatty after the first margarita); we laughed, we cried, we covered a range of topics. It was nice. I didn't even feel old -- and managed to keep all references to him being young to a minimum. Oh! And I got to ride in a Scion for the very first time!! Neat!

But...I'm not sure there was any chemistry there. I didn't think there was any there when we first met. So how the heck did he get my number? How did I end up on a date with him? And how am I going to end up on a second date?!?! (Because we all know that I am going to say yes when he asks again. LOL). You know what though? Maybe it's time for me to step out of my comfort zone or my pattern. Really, there are only 2 outcomes here. Either I'll be reaffirmed in what I like, or I'll learn something new about myself. :)

*Funny story. I'm not entirely certain I remember his name. I didn't hear him properly when he first said it, and then when I asked him to spell it, he said "like it sounds..." I couldn't tell if he said a "c" or a "t". And I didn't catch the end. I completely forgot that I wasn't certain about his name so I didn't look at it on his ID or credit card when I had the chance. Nuts!!

**If I had a type, he'd be the opposite of it. I'm generally an equal opportunity dater, I've dated black, white, latino, mixed...pretty much every one but Asian. Not that I'm anti-Asian men, it's just that there isn't usually any attraction there. I also heart tall (I think the Ninja is the only guy I've ever dated under 5'11"), and lean -- I <3 muscles. This guy was...well...lean :) -- as a result of being ex-military (more opposite of).

HP Update

See that? That's a play on computer/printer updates. Anyway, this is a blog about the humping penguin. Here's what's been happening:

Basically, we had our first date, and he worked my last nerve. Then, he kept working my last nerve. The short version of the story is, I was a total pill and sick of listening to a story that wouldn't end, so in an effort to get him to make a point, I said "land the plane." I fully acknowledge and admit that this was not appropriate first date banter. I even half-apologized after he pointed it out. But, here's where he starts tap dancing on my nerves. He kept repeating it after aforementioned apology. Ok, I deserve it. 5 times in one day, fine. Incidentally, after the date is over, he hugs me goodbye, and I think to myself "Sigh. Not nearly as hard as the Titan -- abs I mean! Get your mind out of the gutter!!!"

Anyway, over the course of the next week or so, I hear/read this phrase over and over again. So, finally I say, let's drop it forever and ever Amen, ok? So, I think this is the end of it. I think wrong, he says it again! I am BEYOND irritated, and I tell him so (albeit in a nice way).

Anyway, we don't have anymore dates. He doesn't ask, and honestly? I don't particularly care. Thereby winning the bet I had with the Engineer, (a bet he squelched on, but that's a story for another day). We do, however, continue to talk, and forge a friendly, networking relationship. he even brings me chocolate (in an attempt to bribe a co-worker into using his web-hosting company).

He even takes me out for beverages for my birthday. Yeah, things get a little strange at that point. He calls me, after said beverages, and makes a ninja-style proclamation. He says that he's failed at every relationship he's ever had, but he wants me in his life always. So, ok, that's...interesting.

Anyway, today, he brought me flowers. He said it was because he'd seen my posting on Facebook wishing that a guy would bring me flowers. And might I mention, that is a GREAT way to start the day. (A day that quickly went downhill, but that's a story for another day too.) So, I called to say thanks, and he asks me to send an email thanking him so his boss could see that this was the way to do business. So, I'm totally cool with that. And then he calls back later, and would you believe the first words out of his mouth are "land the plane"? I swear I could've killed him. Instead, I hung up on him (with warning). Then, I called back and told him that my phone got disconnected. ARRRRGH!

Ok, so the moral of the story, I'm never ever ever gonna date this guy.

Day late, dollar short

I haven't blogged in forever. And yes, quite a bit has happened. But I said to myself, "pheebee, does anyone even read?"

And then I started getting scolded over and over and over again. So, here I am, updating you!

First, let's start with the Titan. It's just as good as any place to start. As it turns out, my tolerance for pretty without substance has gotten longer, but only slightly. Rather than three months, he made it about 4.5. The week before it was over, I talked to him on the phone. It was a Saturday. All day Friday, I hyped myself up to end it. I totally declared it to about 3 different people. Then, when I spoke to him, I punked out. I know, shame on me, right? Instead, exploited a comment that he made (about how I needed to show up in the relationship. Excuse me? He hadn't seen me in 3 weeks at this point, and I needed to show up? Pah!) Anyway, I suggested that maybe we should take a break. He got all puppy dog big eyed on me (yes on the phone, you know the whimpering whiny voice), and convinced me to "have a talk" before taking a break. His reason? He didn't want to get used to not having me around. (Pah!)

Ok, so I tell him I'm going to call him on Sunday for aforementioned talk. And he doesn't answer. He doesn't answer for the entire day. Nor does he call on Monday. So what do I do? I text him on Monday evening and tell him that I couldn't take it anymore. And he proceeds to break it off via text message, saying he never got over the DC trip. What the heck? Well, my pride is hurt, and I'm really irritated that he brought up D.C. again. So I decide to test my theory of how he's so much like the Ninja. Turns out, just as easily manipulated. So we have a text messaging war, and he asks if we can talk on Tuesday while I'm at work.

Let's fast forward ahead to the end of the week. He comes over on Saturday, ostensibly to have the "talk". I say I'm pretty much done with the hanging out portion of the relationship. He says he isn't mentally ready for a relationship. I say I don't want a relationship today, but I want to know whether or not it's in the realm of possibility. Yup, he basically wants to keep hanging out. So I end it. He hangs around the apartment, throwing out every topic he can think of to stall. Finally he leaves. I'm sad, I mope and mourn for three days, and then I'm done.

Now here's the screwy part. Almost 2 weeks later, he calls me at work. Say what? So, I'm all kinds of confused when I answer the phone. And he's all cheery. He wants to see me before going to Rio. Say what? I ask him what for. Frankly, I think that he's just trying to get a little break-up make out before going to Rio, but why? Rio is the land of gettin' it on with hot Brazilian babes. What does he need me for? Anyway, I had plans everyday before he left. In the midst of the conversation, I say something about how we'd ended it. His response -- and, incidentally, the source of my current confusion: "well, we didn't really end it. We just took your advice and took a break."

What? I've never had anyone deny a break up. Any explanations? Haven't heard from him since he got back from Rio. But if the Ninja is any indication, this probably isn't the last of it. Of course, if the Ninja is any indication, I should probably not be talking/blogging/thinking of him, because that's when they tend to pop up.