The Reject

I was on a date last week. Suprise, suprise. I know, but really, I was.
I wasn't too pumped about it - and not because the guy's profile was off, but because the night before I had met up with a guy and he turned out to be uh, less than charming. He was putting back the wine like Elliot Ness was about to walk into the bar, and then bragging to me that at 40, he loved, and I do mean, LOVED to party. He socked them back and I kept checking my phone...wishing I had the balls of my girlfriend to just walk out on the date, but I stuck it out and had him tell me in a drunken slur that I was 'veeerryy nice.' Prince Charming was laying it out there (in between an inebriated hiccup or two), and I tallied it up to another unsuccessful date, so I held out no hopes for door number two- that is, date number the night after.

But I was wrong. This date was smart, interesting, nice looking and we held a conversation. We enjoyed a few appetizers, a few drinks, a few laughs and when the bill came, I grabbed for my purse and he waved his hand and said 'please, no - let me.' I have to admit - even in this day and age and as much as I enjoy the equality, I truly appreciate when a man pays for the date. We turned to leave, and yes, he held the door, walked me to my car and asked me if I would like to do this again. To which I replied, 'definitely.' He gave me a hug goodbye and I turned and got into my car and thought, 'well, it wasn't an immediate 'spark' but he was definitely someone I wanted to see again.'

I didn't think twice about not hearing from him the next day, and I still didn't think much of it when I didn't hear from him the day after that...but as the days went on - I began to wonder. And when my Captain Picard girlfriend (who boldly goes where this woman has not gone before) told me to drop him a text saying hi and Merry Christmas, much to my discomfort, I did it...and you guessed it, no response.

So this has got me thinking...how could I be so wrong? I've rethought the date, and tried to think if there is some sign that I missed, some story that I might have told that nailed the coffin lid down on the date...but try as I might, I just can't see it. The neurotic in me, or the scientist, would really like to be able to ask him - what was it? what didn't you like? but of course, I am not going to do that. Even Picard would not be able to 'engage' that one, nor ask Number One to 'make it so.' Sometimes you just have to accept that there was just no spark for him.

But it's difficult, isn't it? And it's hard not to take that rejection, well , personally. I have been told I have a great picture, and it's got me to thinking that maybe I just don't measure up to those expectations. It is a good picture - professionally taken. but it is me - perhaps the real life me just isn't as good as the two-dimensional? This is a very dangerous train of thought to go down. In today's day and age, and with my insecurities shining through, I have to accept that not everyone I meet is going to find me attractive. Just as I have viewed their pictures and when I've met them in person, I think they are not quite what I was expecting either. So, I can speculate and try to ascertain 'why he didn't call me again' but really - why? Regardless of the reasoning, the outcome is still the same: we're not going to see each other again. And is that so wrong? No. Am I disappointed? Yes. But if I really think it through...the only people I seem to be attracted to are the ones I can't have - and there in lies the rub. Perhaps, that is the very thing I find attractive.

If I think it through like an experiment - I have to admit that on these few chance encounters that I have decided that i think it would be nice to see them again, I realize that I only think that I would see them again if they called. And, although it chips at my ego when they don't, I am quite thankful - looking at it in hindsight - that they didn't. Because I still believe in that spark. I still believe that there will be that moment that I will share with someone - when there's undeniable chemistry - and that has yet to happen with anyone I have dated thus far.

So what's my point.
Rejection sucks...but not half as much as settling. It's more important to be true to what you want and who you are then to 'score' a second date with someone who is looking for something different than what you are. That's the bottom line. So the fishing line remains in the water. And I continue to learn the fine art of fishing, and mastering the baiting.

Christmas Eve

For those of us who live far away from family and are unable to make the trek back home to be with them it can be a pretty lonely time of year. It's easy to wallow in self pity and wish for things to be different and maybe even wonder at what point what went wrong - whether there was some cosmic reason for things to have derailed the way they have and to lament over what misery has befallen us over the past many months or even years.
It's easy to go there, but not the easiest way to spend the holiday.

Christmas may be a time for family, but really - what defines family? I think it's my 'family' that keeps me from feeling so morose and sorry for myself because when I really sit back to think - I have more to be happy about than I do to be sorry for. The things that are not as good are not longstanding things - these are situational and are things that will not follow me or stay with me forever. These are minor annoyances in the grand scheme of things.

But my friends - my friends are positive things in my life that just seem to grow and nurture, and are supportive and steadfast. I have been blessed with friends, some I have nicknamed and written about here, others have been referred to but all have encouraged and loved, supported and cried with, laughed and enjoyed. My family of friends is what makes me thankful and as we come to the close of another year, I am so very awed by their strength and wisdom.

I am reminded of the story of "Footprints" when a man has a dream where he has walked on the beach, two sets of footprints in the sand where his life was good and full, and one set of footprints during his trials. He asks the Lord why there were one set of footprints during his trials, why had the Lord left him? The Lord responds that when the man's life was good, the Lord walked alongside him, but during those trials, and when there was only one set of footprints, that was when the Lord carried him.

I was thinking about that earlier - and it made me smile. I think if I were to write my own version of footprints - it would go something like this:

I am standing on a beach and turn to look back over my life and I see in this last year there are my footprints, a few kneemarks in the sand where I have fallen down, a few handmarks where I have refused to get up, then deeper marks where I sank down - afraid and alone - trying to catch my breath. But then, a set of footprints appear. Then another set, then another and another. These footprints come from every direction - congregating on the one spot and they are flurried in their movements, appearing haphazard and senseless. But upon closer look, these footprints aren't lost or without direction and purpose. These footprints have come together to support and then to play. Perhaps, it was a pickup game of beach volleyball. Some members of the team are 'bumpers' - they dig in, catching the ball before it hits the sand, keeping the ball in play and setting it up for the 'setters'. The setters are agile, nimble fingered and pop the ball high into the air for the more aggressive team members - the 'smashers' or 'spikers'. These members drive the ball out of our court (or sometimes fool our opponents with a gentle tip) and remind us that we are so very powerful when we work together as a team.

I stand there, feeling the breeze on my face, and taking in the sight of all of these footprints...and realize that I am part of a family right here. My family of friends and THAT is why I am smiling this Christmas Eve.

Thank you to each and every one of you.
My thoughts, my wellwishes and my love are with you all.

Master baiter

Insanity has struck. I think I have discovered the real reason that I am woefully unsuccessful in dating. I am not a good master baiter. That's what it is. I need to learn how to do this myself before I can expect others to grasp the uh...concept.


It's all in the preparation you see. The set up is imperative. You have to have the right mindset. You have to be in the mood - set the stage and get it all ready. You have to know what makes it work for you before you can expect someone else to know how to work it... you have to....what was I talking about again? oh yeah, master baiting.



Is it really like fishing? Do I grab the hook, decide on the lure and throw it in the water and hope for the best? Or, do I decide what would be the best bait? The best bait is determined by what kind of fish I am trying to catch. In this lovely analogy - the man is the fish and I am the fisherman...er - person. I am in control - the one with the firm grasp on the rod and the line. I just have to choose the correct bait - become the master of the bait, which means a deep indepth study of the fish.



The master baiting experiment has begun. What kind of fish do I wish to attract? Well - that would be someone I can have a conversation with, so some semblance of intelligence would be nice. Like-minded, and interested in some of the same things as I am (but not all - heavens to betsy, I do not want a male version of me!). Attractive would be nice - I have to admit, I have a thing for men's hands. I saw a pair of hands a few weeks back that made me want to reach over and touch them to see if they were as strong and masculine as they looked.

but until I meet him - I'll keep practicing my technique, doing the research and learning to be - thank you Seinfeld, master of my domain.

We'll always have Paris

Watching the tail end of "Casablanca" this afternoon reminded me of love and loss, selflessness, how music can transport you back to another time, how memorable movie lines like 'here's looking at you, kid' resonate in the deep recesses of the romantic heart.

The line that stuck with me was "We'll always have Paris." How many of us can say that there was one person that we spent some time with in our past, and that they got away...maybe the line would be "we'll always have Vegas" or "we'll always have Venice." I can think of a few friends who have shared their stories with me and I love how they tell the story. They set the scene, describe the man they met, how they met him and how the story unfolded - the days spent getting to know each other, the nights spent learning each other - and then the bittersweet goodbye. One said they even tried to keep it going, a long distance romance that grew more and more distant in their hearts until they could no longer keep up the ruse. But, they would always have 'X'.

Since I have never really travelled anywhere, I don't have Paris or any other place for that matter. So I started thinking that it wouldn't have the same ring to it if you were to say "we'll always have Saskatoon" or "Esterhazy" or how about "Medicine Hat"? And the only thing that comes to mind with these is the likelihood of it being frosty and cold, involving the warming up or breaking down of a car, and that the 'hero' of the story played hockey, football or farmed. Definitely, not Bogie.

But maybe it isn't the rich destination that you need - maybe it's just the feelings you have at the time. It's those romantic exchange of glances, the moments when you realize there is indeed chemistry, the butterflies you get when they're a little closer to you, the first time that you touch, the first kiss - the time spent together, the feelings that you had, the romance of it all...but if that's all it is, then why doesn't "We'll always have the copy room" have the same romantic attraction?

Nope - there's something about Paris...and something I hope to experience.

Rules of Engagement

no, not the movie... although I did enjoy it and I do love Samuel L. Jackson, but I'm talking about a different set of rules for a different engagement. I mean the real RULES of engagement - the RULES of dating.

It has come to my attention as of late that perhaps I need to better define the rules and then maybe these dates wouldn't be so well, disappointing. There have been a few that I felt were promising but yielded nothing, so in true experimental fashion I have decided to do some research, collect the information and see what I come up with.

Having talked with my friends, and deemed that this research is both quantitative and qualitative, I will attempt to share their insights.

Here are their collective rules of engagement:

Rule #1. no first date shall last longer than 1.5 hours.
This has been difficult, and I didn't think it was my fault but after numerous discussions I have learned that this, regardless of blame, must be stopped. Apparently, my marathon dates (lasting 5+ hours) are an absolute no-no. The ideal date should be enough time to meet, exchange a few pleasantries, swap some stories but the most important part: should leave them wanting. Yes, they should WANT to spend more time with me, WANT to get to know me better. One date actually ground popcorn into the top of my head (think Jim Carrey in Dumb and Dumber - the face wash scene). This would have been avoided if I had kept the date to 1.5 hours because then he would have had the time to injest only 4 drinks instead of 6 prior to the movie - and yeah, he wanted more.

Rule #2. no stories of past jobs.
After discussing this at length with my friends, who were choking on their food and laughing at my expense, I have been schooled that these stories may be interpreted as somewhat, well, misleading as to who I am. I have worked at various adult watering holes over the years which have left me with some colourful stories to tell. I get nervous and resort to my humour. Self confessed, it's my crutch. However, these stories apparently are interpretted differently by the male species.
I think I'm sharing something funny. They think it's suggestive.
I think they're enjoying the story. They think I'm sleazy...
This is what my friends have indicated. So, no bar stories. End of story.

Rule #3. attentive listening.
This one may be a little more difficult. I get nervous. I start to talk. I feel this undeniable need to fill the empty air, but according to one of my friends: no, let them fill the air. Apparently, men love to talk about themselves. I need to grab the door, wedge it open with a pedicured and well heeled foot, and listen intently, hanging on their every word. I can do this. I am actually interested in what my date has to say...I just need to find a way to get him to open up and fill the empty air...it might be more fun to listen tohim tell embarrassing stories that he can second-guess himself over. Yes...I see the appeal here.

Rule #4. wait for it.
I am usually pretty good at this. I'm not the aggressive type and my one foray into this did not go well so my one girlfriend says, as she gayfully tosses her hair, 'just wait...the lures in the water, you're the fish and you're not going to nibble on just anything.' So, I am to wait and decide which line looks the best, take a closer look at the rod, then the fisherman and decide if I want to nibble.
This is a FUN analogy.

So these are my new rules. The romantic has approved them and the strategist sees their value.
I am going on another date later this week.
Let's see if the rules... rule.

I need a man

There I said it. It is hurting my tender female ego to say it, but I have just discovered that I do indeed need a man. Not 'want a man' but indeed need one. It's devastating to me, but it's the plain truth. A few hours ago it was so obvious to me and as much as I tried to convince myself otherwise, it was becoming more and more evident with each passing moment.

Much like the Borg from Star Trek The Next Generation - Do not try to resist. Resistance is futile.

What brought on this blatant disregard for feminism? It was when I stepped out, intent on getting a few things done before the Riders win the Grey Cup (positive thinking, people, positive thinking...) The first task was to shovel the walk, and as I laboured away (food for thought - when buying a house and you think 'oh, wouldn't it be nice to have a double garage and the matching driveway, and oh, isn't it nice to have double front doors and the matching stairs...think about the shovelling...Are you seeing it? Not so nice now, is it?)

Back to my aching back...the driveway was packed. I had procrastinated and thought - this won't be so bad, I have the supplies: icepick, shovel, snowboots, mittens and the will to get'er done...but as I flexed and pushed, struggled and panted, I realized that it would be so much better if someone else was doing it...where were those annoying kids from last year who came to my door every week offering to shovel my snow for $20? I would hire you now - and maybe even give you more!!... but no matter how much i struggled, there was no getting around it.
I needed a man.

Sure, there's been times when I thought it would be nice to have a man - cuddle up and watch a movie with, someone to kiss, someone to dine with, go for walks with, and just spend romantic moments with - but this, this was different. This was a NEED - like water, shelter, food. I bloody well NEEDED someone to finish shovelling my driveway.

Thankfully, I didn't break into a full out panic and attack the man from across the street. I thought about it, but his wife already hates me for talking to him the other day (you should have seen the glares)...yes, I am now the single vixen in our lane. Anyway, as I eyed him, in my panic-driven, back-aching state, it came to me suddenly, and then I calmly put down the shovel, assumed a maidenly pose, took off my toque, gave my hair a model-type toss - letting the curly tresses cascade down my back...then turned back toward my house, opened the door and called my still-snoozing 20-year old son: "honey, mommy needs your help..." No more shovelling for me.
Then I smirked - triumphant at last. I HAVE a man. Necessity acquired.

the game...

wow...I was tired the other day, I mean really tired, and really was thinking that I should cancel my date for that evening. I had slept in this morning so I didn't have the time to do my hair and I was rushed dressing so I thought - wow, do I really want to go and meet someone looking this way?

and so I went but I knew it was going to be okay. I knew that my date wouldn't care - because that date was with my friend and she just wanted to hang out and exchange stories about life, and discuss the upcoming football game. Yes, I was a few minutes late - ever try park close to 11th Ave and 5th St SW in downtown Calgary rush hour? but we quickly began conversation and it wasn't long and i had shaken off the stress of the streets, the business of the day, and the worry about my lovelife.

She was very soothing and a great conversationalist with some really great advice. But it did get me to thinking, as so many situations do...why do we put ourselves through hell in preparation for a date? Why don't we just 'come as we are'...

I think it's because we're trying to make this great first impression, but if I really dig deep down, I know the real reason I put in that extra effort and maybe you can relate.
It's a game. It's part of the strategy in outwitting your opponent. Scoring the first point is important. It sets the mood for the rest of the date, and man willing, the dates to follow.

I actually talk to myself when I'm putting my makeup on - it's like a boxer preparing for a prize fight, it's my ultimate psyche up - 'you look good', 'are you ready for this?', 'is he ready for this?' and then I smirk and head toward the door. Dab on the perfume, put it in places that make me smile, places that are meant for me - and my confidence builds a little more. next it's the hair, trying to decide to go curly or straight, down or up...what image am i looking to convey? Do I want to look sexy and alluring? bookish and smart? again, the smirk crosses my lips. Next is the wardrobe - more about the image that I'm wanting to convey.

But it's still all a game...but in trying to make a good first impression, am I selling something that I am not? I know I am going to blow it as soon as I open my mouth anyway...so why the prep for the big game? Why don't I just come as I am and see if I fare any better?

Because I am really not quite that confident yet - I still feel the need to wear the mask (or the warpaint - wow, with some of these dates that is exactly what it feels like!), don the armour/wardrobe and head out to battle.

I have never been the aggressive type and I am noticing a trend in the men that I attract. I think they are all expecting some kind of sex kitten, some uber-sexy, uninhibited, ultra-sensual man-pleaser and hey, let's face it - that's not me. What am I? I'm a woman (that part I'll give them) but a shy, bashful, dynamic woman with many facets. I enjoy a variety of things and experiences, and I would like to explore even more. I would like to find someone who I feel comfortable enough to be myself around and explore new things, and maybe even let some of this 'genie' out of the bottle. I've never felt like I could trust someone enough to let it all go - which is a big truth to be putting out across the internet at my age - but it's there - whole and raw, Covered in warpaint but yearning for submission.

Appropriate or inappropriate

I do not always say the most appropriate things on a date. I tend to get a little nervous and resort to telling stories that I think will show that I have a sense of humour and that I am comfortable in my own skin. However, after the other night, I believe I have met the male version of me - inappropriate as all hell, because this guy really thought he was charming. What did he say? well let's narrow it down...

'I am endowed'...INAPPROPRIATE

what should a woman say to that - "Prove it"? He was talking about a woman asking him if he was 3 or possibly 4 fingers wide...and he assured me he was 'fine in that department'. I laughed nervously, and responded with my own inappropriate story about the time a guy whipped it out and lay it on the table for me....For you men out there - a little note: we don't like this. It doesn't impress us. You want to know what impresses us? When you can keep it in your pants - that's impressive.

The Nice Package story...INAPPROPRIATE

He followed the endowed speech with a nice fun-filled story of how he was at the bar and this woman sought him out. She had been eyeing him from across the bar, walked up to him and said "I saw your package from way over there and so I had to come say hi." Why, why would he tell me this? Should I have been impressed? Again - what did he expect my reaction to be? I laughed nervously and thought about the best possible way to get home...or at the very least out of this date.

'This girl I was dating....this other girl I was seeing...this other one I met" Geez, do I even have to say it? INAPPROPRIATE

I get it, he wanted me to know that other women have found him attractive, he's in high demand...if I snooze, I lose...but really I don't care. Find another subject matter to impress a new date with - how about talking about your career? interests you might have other than past dates? hobbies? sports? knitting?

'You're better looking than your picture'...a lie, but APPROPRIATE

we like compliments, even if we don't know how to take them. As long as there's some hint that it could be truthful, I can convince myself that he means it and I am ALL over it.

This date was memorable. I will forever remember having someone tell me they were endowed. I also am very close to writing my next blog on 'how to piss off a man in 10 emails or less'. This ice princess has a way with words...but that's for next time.

Amoral question

It is that time of the year when thoughts turn to snow, snow tires, lights on the house, Christmas shopping and the dreaded company Christmas party. Okay, so some of them aren't that bad, but others...others deserve to stay locked up in the vaults of past wrongdoings - oh, I could tell you about the Christmas party date from hell, but it's in the past and I don't want to run the risk of having that whole ugly scene replaying in my head...I can tell you that my date DID talk to our COO and yeah, it was about me....I am all ashudder just remembering it.

So I'm having lunch with a guy friend of mine - I've referred to him here. Hallmark and I started talking about my being single and him being effervescently in love and we landed on the subject of Christmas parties. Ah...the Christmas party. I had thought that I would be his date for his, but now that he's gaga, I'm off the hook - so to speak. And it got me thinking...

What if I were to put myself out as the proverbial Christmas party date? I would agree to come fully dressed (even appropriately I might add) and wouldn't that just be the funnest way to get through this holiday season? Because let's face it, there is a lot of romanticism around this holiday - there's family gatherings, snuggling by the fire, romantic holiday movies, etc - it's enough to make any single person gag on their eggnog and reach for another handful of shortbread cookies. So why not extend my very own form of Christmas cheer? I can laugh, act demure, hang on his arm, listen to all of his jokes, charm his coworkers and all with a pleasant and easy going or coquettish (whichever he prefers) smile on my face. It would alleviate the need for him to find a date, and not deplete my cookie and eggnog supply. I would also have the opportunity to meet and network with various people which is always good when you work professionally in the communications/marketing arena.

The only drawback may be the uh...need for dessert or the 'after the meal' drink or proverbial 'nightcap'. For that, I would not be on the menu, but I would most certainly guarantee a no-embarrassing date for the rest of the evening. I would limit my alcohol content to two (well possibly three, depending on the date).

I must ponder this some more. Is it moral, immoral or amoral? Do I have the Christmas balls to pull this off? and if I decide I will indeed be a "Christmas Belle" (ooh, will need to trademark that!), how best to market it? and why stop with just me...why not bring in a whole stable of potential Christmas dates, a "String of Lights" as it were...the possibilities are endless.

the kiss

I did it. Went on another date. Huge potential with this one. We had done Scenario 2 in Spark - which meant emails and emails, phone calls, texts and we really had something...on paper. And then we met - and there was no spark.

I think we prolonged the date hoping against all hope that something would ignite, that the magic from the emails might somehow find light in our meeting. I honestly can't speak for him, he asked if I wanted him to call me and I said yes but we both knew the truth. I even pushed it further by asking for a kiss (much to my surprise -perverse curiosity?) but it was not there. Nothing.

I have been thinking about that. Why did I ask for a kiss? I knew there was nothing, but I still wanted that definitive 'knowledge'. And it came - he leaned over and kissed me and the absolute knowledge that there was nothing there was so apparent I think you could cut it with a knife.

And after getting over the disappointment, deleting the emails and thinking 'oh well, maybe next time'...I am wondering why a kiss matters so much to me. is it the kiss itself? or the anticipation of it? I mean, I do recall (although it's been awhile) meeting someone, exchanging glances, locking on their eyes for a moment and then looking away because I could feel the rise of the heat in my face and was so sure that they could see the effect that they had on me. And, at the end of the date, he walked me back to my car, and then the awkward moment as we try to decide what to do next. This is where I love a man to take charge. If you're feeling it - kiss the girl. I'm not saying that you should grab her, paw her and lock your lips to hers, but you can step in, see if her pupils dilate (that means she likes you), put your hand casually on the side of her waist and then lean in, lips slightly parted and kiss her...I remember what this is like. and I long to have that feeling again. The rush. The delightful and heated feeling as you melt into him, and the next kiss comes - a little longer, a little deeper - and your head starts to spin.

So is it the anticipation? For me, somewhat. And I know that 'he' is out there and I also know that it will come when it comes, and for the time being I can spend some time sighing over disappointments, lamenting my romantic notions but confident in the knowledge that the kiss is coming...and it will be well worth the wait.

Balance

so prior to this last little while, I have been out of the dating scene - and once I decided it was time to try it again, I handled it like I handle everything else - full steam ahead. I was in the dating boat again, and I was paddling - not sure where i was going, but confident that it had to be 'that' way....so I've gone on a few, and i've spent some really great times with my girlfriends. I am a social butterfly these days.

Out with friends yet again last night and one of them said I think it's important that you're getting yourself out there, and you know? I tend to agree. Here's a woman that's stronger than most, beautiful inside and out, dealing with her own stuff...but offering me words of encouragement. I realize that I am a glutton for this attention. I sat there with three friends and soaked up the love. Amazing women - each with their own strengths, each with their own trials and tribulations. We are all so very different, but the common thread is the support we offer.

In my social butterfly period I have been flitting from one group to another with a few dates in between, and I really do feel grounded when I'm able to sit with my friends and just let it all hang out (figuratively, because if I did let it all out - they would have kicked us out of the restaurant).

It is becoming more and more clear to me as I paddle along that I want that in a potential mate as well. And this is odd to me - I have always prided myself on my ability to do it myself, how independent I was, how i did it all by myself, etc. and now I am looking for someone to allow me to fly but be able to come and land on them, soak up the support and then fly again. I'm also realizing that that flight pattern doesn't necessarily have to be separate from him either. Strange - I might have to ponder that some more.

In talking with friends who have amazing husbands, I have learned that they do just that. They're not absorbed in one another's lives - they each have their own 'thing' going on, but they do take the time to stop the flitting and land with one another, regroup, reconnect, reground and then carry on. I love to people watch, and sometimes I think I see these moments of reconnection - it's a shared moment. I strive for that in my next relationship.

The ultimate balance of You, Me and Us.

Do Over?

Confidence. yep, that's me. I ooooooze confidence. I am so confident that I blundered my way through a date...ahhhh, can i request a Do Over?

here's the back story:

Meet man on online dating site. look at picture: full head of hair, nice teeth (does it sound like i'm picking out a dog?) - decide you will email said man. Email him. exchange a few emails, talk on the phone (note - has a very masculine voice - bonus points) and agree to meet (see Spark - scenario 1).

Arrive at location, and see well dressed man in jeans and sport jacket. He turns around - nice. Full head of hair, nice teeth. Good boy.

proceed into date...realize that your hands are sweaty and you are wondering if he can see that. He appears unaware that you are incessantly wringing your hands and playing with your hair (note to self later - perhaps he was just too polite to say anything).

Enter delicate phase of date: you have to eat and drink in front of one another. Realize quickly that this date is cultured, quite refined. I decide (in error) that I can play on this field. I enjoy a martini - try to make small talk and realize I am stammering. Try to regain some semblance of control, search for words and end up resorting to Serena tip #1: how to scare off a potential match? resort to jokes. Did I mention that he was refined? Perhaps, the best thing wasn't to tell him about the time I propositioned two men for a threesome? I know what you're thinking - wtf? who does that? and my question to myself later: wtf? who does that?! Uh, apparently - that would be me. Allow me to explain :The 'threesome experiment' was for the benefit of my girlfriend. True story - she had just been dumped and was feeling down, we were out at a club (many moons ago - I am too old for these now) and she insisted that women have no power, and I said we do too, we can get pretty much anything as long as we are confident...and to prove my point - I approached two strange men. They were shocked, surprised - and even laughed as my friend and I revealed the rationale. They whole heartedly agreed with me - women do indeed have power. My intent was not to have a threesome, my intent was to show my friend that a little confidence allows you to do things/say things - even if they're shocking and off the wall - and get away with it, plus it opens the door.

I like shocking people...apparently not a good thing to do on a refined date.

Let's get back to that date, shall we? I am smart enough to realize my blunder, but not smart enough to avoid adding to it. I then proceeded to babble...incessantly. It's strange: I recalled that I was listening to him speak, looking into his blue eyes (which were hot btw) and then there was this annoying chirpy sound that interrupted him. It grew louder and louder, then it repeated itself - (oh, those are words?), a high pitched voice and a twittery laugh...where was that coming from?...YOU know where it was coming from - that's right, Serena with full blown First Date Verbal Diarrhea.

I am still not sure why he stayed on the date (it lasted about 4 hours). Maybe he thought I would say something redeeming, who knows. He was a gentleman though - walked me to my car and even gave me a hug with the obligatory "i'll call you" which he didn't. I even gave him a little peck on his cheek (I thought he sort of chuckled at that, but really - looking back, I think he recoiled and grimaced).

Is it too much for me to ask for a Do Over? It's not my pride that keeps me from calling,texting or emailing, it's just I can't think of how I could possibly redeem myself. Addicted to crack and I was coming down? no, that won't work. I have split personalities and the one with the Sexual Turrets showed up? no, I'm sure he's heard that before. I guess I'll just have to accept that some things can't be undone and hopefully i've learned my lesson: Sharing Threesome Experiment is a second date story.

Spark

how many dates does it take to find that elusive spark? Sounds like the set up line to a bad, bad joke. Actually it's the set up to being single, single, single. I find it amusing how you can read someone's profile, look at a few pictures, exchange a few emails and agree to meet - hoping against all hope that there will be that 'spark' and you will want to see them again. Sometimes, you just have fun on that date and then go on a second one - and realize very quickly that the chemistry is missing - and even though they may be a great person - you know it is just not there. Now what to do? how do you handle it?

1. covertly...you become too busy to take calls, emails, texts...this is probably the easiest way but also tends to make me feel the absolute lousiest. you look at the phone sheepishly when they call...you're trying not to read the text when they text and an email? you just throw it in the trash because you know what it'll say: 'I had a great time last night, looking forward to seeing you again' or something inspirational like 'you're a great person, I'm glad I know you'....which just makes you feel like you belong under a rock. so why can't you feel for this person? They're nice to you, respectful...but there's no tingle, no spark.

...or maybe you have a few more guts and you handle it

2. overtly...you arrange to meet them, call them and say 'you know...i think you're a great person (at this point, most people know what's coming next) but I'm just not feeling the chemistry'...I have done this - to the ensuing rush of various rebukes: I've been called a dog (well a female one), self absorbed, mean and my personal favourite...'yeah well, i didn't really like you anyway...you, you...smell funny...and you're fat!' This alleviated my guilt (for a moment anyway) - that was until I started to giggle, and then full out laugh...then i got a drink in the face and the oh-so-well-documented profanity...and then guilt because I laughed - but I couldn't help it, it was just so juvenile - I pictured this guy kicking up sand in my sandbox when i was five.

or - how about trying a combination?

3. the halfie...so my chosen method might be to send the text...'i really enjoyed meeting you/but i just didn't feel that connection" or " I really enjoyed our date the other night but I just think we're looking for two different things. and ending with 'i wish you the best of luck.' sometimes, I get no response, sometimes I get a nasty text back wishing me luck in finding something meaningless...ouch!

So what's the best route...i'm feeling kind of chicken, can't handle a drink to the face, and not sure about the texting...a covert operation it is...unless I come up with something better...ideas? suggestions?

That elusive spark... it begs the question: in this on-line dating world - when is a good time to meet someone? Here's what I've tried...

1. look at picture - pass/fail. pass? move on to step 2

2. read profile...still interested? move on to step 3

3. send or return email - it should be noted step one is preceded by an introductory email, or shown up in a search. Say something witty and playful in email...try to be alluring without being sexual.

4. wait for response - interesting? agree to meet within a few days.

5. meet person - know within 10 seconds there is no spark, but try to make it anyhow.

6. 20 minutes later - wish you could come up with a reason to leave quickly. babble incessantly.

7. leave - and try to avoid the kiss/hug.

or scenario #2:

1. look at picture - pass/fail. pass? move on to step 2

2. read profile...still interested? move on to step 3

3. send or return email - it should be noted step one is preceded by an introductory email, or shown up in a search. Say something witty and playful in email...try to be alluring without being sexual.

4. wait for response - interesting?

5. repeat steps 1 through 4 for week or weeks. Realize that you are starting to fall for someone you haven't even met...yes, you are that much of a romantic. yes, you are that interested in talking and getting to know the person. yes, you are exactly what your mother said you were.

6. weeks later - agree to meet. your spine is atingle, you're nervous and giddy.

7.meet...and know within first 20 seconds that there is no spark, that time invested was spent on the person you 'thought' you were getting to know was for naught.

8. spend time on date - trying to convince yourself that it is there - you just are too nervous to see it. have too much wine/coffee and keep running to the bathroom, hoping against all hope that he will be gone one of the times you come back to the table.

9. end date with an eye-avoiding, foot shuffling good time. Say 'it was nice to finally meet you. i'll call you'...but you both know that's not in the cards.

10. go home and reread emails, wondering where you missed - then delete emails and know that it never was...you had romanticized it into something it never was.

So - what's the better route? I'm not sure...I can say that by spending some time getting to know the person has yielded better quality dates...but scenario one has yielded better stories to share with friends and coworkers.

The bottom line is - there has to be that spark. Even if it's just an ember - the casual brush of your hand, the casual brush of the hair from your face, the lock of the eyes when you can see into their soul...and something lights. That is what I am looking for. That is the quest. and something I am willing to risk another date to have.

all around the board

I'm not conceited, I'm not self absorbed (well maybe, after all I have a blog devoted to my thoughts:), but I am self confident and also have some friends that offer some support when needed. I am so very lucky to have some really great friends of the opposite sex. They keep me on my toes - while one likes to pump me up - we'll call him Hallmark - (he should really write for Hallmark - he knows how to make a woman feel good about herself), I have another that likes to burst that freshly inflated balloon - I call him Oscar, I have yet another who is undeniably Crass. Allow me to explain - Crass' last date ended rather abruptly: she asked if he wanted to see her again, to which he replied (while staring longingly at her chest) - "hell, ya...i really want to get my hands on those..." He honestly couldn't understand why she was so offended - he thought he had paid her a compliment. Come to think of it, maybe I should introduce Hallmark to Crass...

These guys are fun. these guys are entertaining. and these guys are my buds. They have been schooling me - each in their own little way - on this on-line dating world. They've helped me to avoid the minefields (some anyway) and so I am eternally grateful.

which brings me to today's date: we'll call him Flyboy. We met on one of the sites - a little im'ing, some interesting chatter, a few polite flirtations and we agreed to meet. Flyboy had great pics. He was a little younger than me, he was articulate, polite, funny - and he was sexy, smart and suggestive - my three favourite s'es. I was pretty excited at the idea of meeting him - so anxiously awaited our date....enter my game of Monopoly.

Roll dice. Pick up Chance Card - agree to meet earlier because it is better for Flyboy.. Take the chance? Let's think - remember the three s'es - and a chance to show that we can be spontaneous and go with the moment? Absolutely, we will meet earlier! His turn. He arrives and waits. My turn, enter into coffeehouse - greet him, notice that his cologne is bang on...sigh, chance paying off, looking to ride the Shortline...His turn....waiting...waiting..please do something - roll, pick something...anything - where's the chatty guy from the previous nights?... Undeterred, I will take an extra turn - perhaps kickstart? I start talking about my guy friends - thinking it will make him laugh (my fallback position, my "get out of Jail free" card). He does laugh...but refuses to take a turn. I keep rolling out potential conversation topics and more guy friend antics. he keeps laughing but no reach for the dice... I take another turn - hoping to roll so I can buy Boardwalk, but instead, came up Community Chest...I'm reaching for the card - hoping against all hope I can get the "Advance to Go" card but he pulls from game, mentioning I can always text, he's in town often...and later, he texts he tastes as good as he smells....sighhhhh. that's really not what i'm looking for - and I thought I made that quite plain.

Monopoly game learning?

Next date, will not talk about guy friends. Will accept that not all is as they seem. Not all dates advance to Go. Not all dates collect $200. Some dates go directly to 'fail'...But, cheer up, there's other games out there.

In the boat

It's strange to be the 'holding onto my 30s' and single again. i have a few friends in the same boat - morose over the idea, excited about it, scared about it, bitter about it - pick a feeling! someone is experiencing it in some form or another. Me? i feel a little of it all. I went out on a date last night - and although he was very nice, and very complimentary - I didn't feel that spark and so I know my search continues. After I returned home, going over some emails, first personal and then work ones, I lay back and relaxed...thinking about my friends, some of their thoughts and urgings and then what it's like to be me - and I have to say I smiled (first a little impish, then it grew until I was lying there grinning like a cheshire cat). It's not that my life is 'all that' - it's that I see the potential of it for being 'all that' and despite different faux pas and disturbing choices, I am sure that this growing ember of excitement inside me is leading me to new horizons - and that's putting a little jump in my step.

I speak of my friends and I being in the same boat - we're all back in the big (or not so big) dating pond, and we're in this boat. There's amazing women in this boat - wonderful, thoughtful, smart, sexy, alluring, compassionate, giving - and they're breathtaking. They are decked out in their very best, hair perfectly coiffed, makeup (professionally done, of course) is immaculate, teeth are straight, posture is faultless - and they wait. and sure enough - different types of men come to them. Some are in boats themselves, some are swimming up and casually swimming around - just wanting to get a better look, some are aggressive and are trying to pull themselves into our boat (I am also aggressive; aggressively slapping their hands away:).

Another friend sits in the footwell of the boat - she is very different. Preferring to stay in the shadows, thoughtful and watchful. She likes to watch, take in her surroundings - is the eternal confidant and always very wise as she sees what most people miss. She sits, sees the hands coming over the sides, watches the men and decides which of those she will want to approach. Sometimes - she simply doesn't. She's not scared of time, no fear she will be alone - she simply wants to be sure that who she chooses is someone that is compatible.

And then there's me. I can't sit. I can't wait. I must do. It's not the fear of being alone or wanting to create something that is not there - it's that restlessness, that unsettled feeling that I haven't arrived but with each passing day it's getting closer. It's my adventure. My quest. I am in the boat, and I have thrown myself against the side and paddled vigorously with my hands - then, when one of the men got too close, I finagled his oar from him (he was beguiled by my perfectly coiffed friend) and now I am paddling my way forward - I must do, must see what that alluring shape is in the distance, see what's in store and I am grinning at the thought of it.

I firmly believe there is nothing wrong with any of my friends' approaches to this dating scene. I think what is wrong is when you don't trust yourself enough to be true to your approach. The fun truly lies in the journey - so if you're 'faking' it - what fun will that be?

The beast

So my birthday is just around the corner - and let me tell you, these things have sucked for some time: my house caught on fire one year, another year I got dumped (by voice mail, no less), another year I got the silent treatment from my then boyfriend (I like to refer to that stage as "the cold war: serena-style")...and the list goes on. So, perhaps needless to say, but i'm going to point it out anyway - I've been feeling pretty lack-lustre about the upcoming "event".

And then, I read my friend's blog... she's my age - we'll call it "holding onto our 30's" - and she's been diagnosed with breast cancer, had the surgery and is now undergoing the chemo, and losing her hair. This woman could be like me: feel sorry for herself, and wallow in her self pity, but instead - she's showing the grace and composure of what i call "Sur-thriving". You've all heard people say, "you just need to get through it, you'll survive it." or "you're a survivor - you can handle it." but what about the people that face that fierce beast (whether it be cancer, abuse, divorce, loss of a loved one, etc) and not only say "screw you!" and give a profane gesture or two, but actually take that beast, grab it by the ears and drill it in the face with their kneecap...then while that beast is reeling, grab hold of its nostrils (good finger grip up to the second knuckle!) and say "oh no you don't, you're not getting away that easy...I am sure as #@$! (enter chosen profanity or verbal exclamation here) not done with you!!!" This is my friend: she's amazing in ways that I can only hope to be some day. Thank you, my friend - you simply amaze... and bring my self pity to ground. Loving you with the biggest cyberhugs out there!

Far be it from me to offer advice, but I challenge anyone who reads this: Think about the wee beastie that torments you, and think about how you are choosing to deal with it: do you allow it to grow and overwhelm? do you submissively ask it to 'stop' but with no authority? do you swear/leer at it and expect it to back down? or are you circling it, analyzing it and ready to push it back and make it sorry it ever darkened your doorway? Take a look...and sharpen those fingernails. Time to take a good grip.

Staying alive

The day started with the same routine, the clock radio goes off, blaring the music, and I hit the snooze button as often as I can (noticing I can get ready in 10 minutes now – not bad for a woman!)

I come down the stairs - thinking over things that have transpired in the last couple of months. What I had hoped for. what I had wanted – and then it rushes in. do all 30 something women feel that their life is a disappointment? Or is this just me? I tear up, morose and stuck in my own feelings of inadequacy. Inadequacy because I am overweight, dissatisfied with my self, my career, my marriage and then I voiced it: “I’m almost 40 years old and wishing I was dead…I have nothing to look forward to.” And then I drive off. Heading into work, angry and disappointed. Frustrated with my inability to enjoy my own life, wishing it would just end.

Nothing seemed to be going right – too much traffic, too much sunlight and too many people confused as to which one was the gas pedal – even the radio station I listen to every morning was playing all of the wrong music. I swore at it – and changed the station, jabbing at the presets to find something that would not irritate me. I had to leave it alone, to make my turn, and through my gloom lyrics starting filtering into my head. The Bee Gees were singing to me: “stayin’ alive, Life goin’ nowhere. Somebody help me. Somebody help me, yeah…”

I had to smile – quite in spite of myself. My whole life I have dealt with things through my humour – not all have understood it, but it is my coping mechanism, so it seems perfectly normal to me to know that God speaks to me in the way I would understand. As a professional in the communications field, I know the importance of communicating in a style and in the way (or vehicle) that your audience best would understand it. So why would it seem strange to anyone that God – the most competent communicator of all – would not know this as well?

Even in my self-deprecating and loathing – He managed to reach me. And I know that “somebody help me” is meant for me to pray, because Somebody will help me, even when I am not being as I should, even when I have fallen short and am angry and swearing, He gently pulls me back to Him by putting a smile on my face, and prayer back in my heart.

Why the waffle?

I know, I know...at this point you're thinking - why write about breakfast? is it about choices? do I go with the bacon and eggs... or the pancakes? how about something decadent - like the strawberry and cream topped belgian waffle? I think that waffles were put on the menu for people like me. you know, the indecisive types. We literally - er, waffle:)

I mean, I know the bacon and eggs isn't particularly good for me. I know that it is what I am used to - and that seems to make it all the more easier to stick to it, but then I start thinking: that bacon, well it's not great for the thighs, not great for the heart and those arteries that pump my blood around, and come to think of it, that 'over easy' egg really isn't all that OVER easy...it's not too good for me either. But it's what I'm used to...so I'll stick with it...OR:

there's the pancakes. I can rationalize that I can order them whole wheat (that's good for me, right?) and then I can choose to add butter or syrup, or jam. but it's not what I'm used to, and that's a little scary. what if I don't like them? what if they're sticky? what if they taste like kaka?

Back to the waffle. I so often waffle. big decisions. little decisions. I just can't quite decide. I have been criticized for asking people what they think about some pretty personal stuff. I like to get advice. I like to hear what other people think on the matter - and then I can weigh it out and make up my mind. I don't think it's such a bad way to do things. I contend that it provides me with options and insights that I might not have come up with on my own. Afterall, isn't there wisdom in a multitude of counsel? Isn't that written somewhere?

Perhaps that's what the waffle is: a choice. a choice between something you know isn't good for you but it's what you know...and the other is something not ventured, something you've heard about, maybe even seen someone else enjoy but have never tried yourself. The waffle then is the middle ground - the option...something to sate the appetite until you're ready to try that something new.

Am I really talking about breakfast?

give n' take

I really wonder about giving. I mean - I've been told I'm a kind person - but what is that? I know why I do things that are considered nice - and honestly, if I've done something nice for you - it probably wasn't for you! sorry to burst the Hallmark-like bubble, but really - I did it because it makes me feel good - and the fact that you liked it, is just a fringe benefit!

It's callous, I know, but it's the truth.

the flip side is the 'taking' of it...i'm not too good at that. when someone does something nice for me, I often wonder 'are they going to use this against me later? hold it over my head?' Don't laugh, it's happened (which is probably why I think that). I've been trying to change that thinking - I've been trying to think about how I feel when I've done something kind for someone else. I have that inexplicable tingly feeling in my gut (no, it's not gas) and a stupid little smile on my face...so maybe, if I learn to accept the act of kindness- take what is being offered, then maybe I'm giving someone else that tingly feeling, and if I deny their act of kindness, I'm actually denying them that feeling...that feeling that I love so much? hmmm. makes me think I should take that parking spot that's being offered next time... instead of muttering under my breath some horrible phrase concerning the other drivers' parents/ lineage/ deformities, etc.

clarity of expression

I was thinking to myself that I really enjoy writing. I mean, I really, really love it. I love trying to come up with words, lumping them all together and then ruminating on how each of these words when strung together create an image - a word picture - that is then received by another person. it's the ultimate: it's communication. Sure, I can gesture away (just ask the woman who cut me off while I was driving to work this morning), but it doesn't have the same impact - and still can be open to misinterpretation (I was shaking my fist, really, that's what I was doing - what? you say my middle finger was up? noooooo...)

Words lay it on the line. whether spoken or written - they depict a picture, and the more descriptive - the clearer the picture.

To the lady I gestured to this morning: If you want to continue to drive on a three-lane highway where the speed limit is posted at 100km/hour, it is best to use the shiny little stick located on the left hand side of your steering wheel. This shiny stick is magical: when you push it up, a darling little light turns on, which intermittently flashes, signaling to all drivers around you that you are planning to merge into the lane on your right.

If you push the shiny stick downward, the light flashes intermittently on your left hand side, indicating to other drivers you are wanting into the lane on your left. Thank you for your time and consideration. For our next lesson: the proper pressure to place on the gas pedal (so you can pick a speed and stick with it).

June 29 - It's simply amazing!

...what a difference a day can make... yesterday, I felt so beaten and overwhelmed. To the degree that I couldn't even sleep most of the night. I woke up at a quarter to five, let the dogs out and then went downstairs to stare at the new 2-week old kittens. My son had beaten me there. He was lying on his side, wistfully watching the kittens as they took their first shaking steps. We made some small talk, but mostly just sat and watched these new kittens take in the world with fresh eyes. That thought has stayed with me throughout the day: fresh eyes...do I dare say that I could take on the world with fresh eyes? would the problems that seemed so insurmountable and overwhelming yesterday suddenly become foolish and easily overtaken?

Maybe. maybe it's just how we look at things - how we choose to colour our paint-by-number world. Yesterday, the legend said that all the "1's" must be 'yellow' - and look what it got me: overwhelmed, distressed and sleepless. Today, I think that I will colour whatever comes to mind - and if a "1" is yellow, and another "1" is black...so be it. I'll enjoy the diversity and the freedom I have to choose it.