Mr. Architect: An UpDATE for Date #1 – When we first met

Bringing you up to speed on Mr. Architect, my future (maybe?) house builder “if this works out.”

It all started when he asked me to meet for a late Saturday lunch. We met at Casa del Mar, a swanky hotel about 5 minutes from me, in Santa Monica.  This is my favorite place to meet to watch the sunset.  There are HUGE windows and the hotel is right on the ocean. It’s gorgeous.

We met up and to the right, in the library part of the elegant lobby.

We met up and to the left, in the library part of the elegant lobby.

I’m nervous to meet him, but look reallly cute.  I was wearing a dress, high heels and my fab new spray tan.  (Btw, don’t judge the paint.  Everyone looks better bronzed, and my white butt needed some color! :) I felt very Californian.)

I had plans to meet my girls for brunch right before (just down the street, at another fabulous hotel, Loews), and then would head over afterwards to meet him.

He had texted me to meet him “in the upper bar, at the library.” Extra points already for giving me specifics. I love that, and it’s a big hotel.

I walk in and see him across the way.  He stands up from his chair, smiles, I wave and cross over to him.

He then reaches out his hand and helps me up the 3 steps to where he was sitting.  Well, folks, we have a gentleman on our hands! I appreciate the assistance as I’m wearing 4 inch heels.

He immediately makes a comment about how great I look and I’m pleasantly surprised to see him look even better in person.

He’s wearing some sort of golf shorts, a polo with its collar popped, underneath a light blue sweater – its collar also popped. Ah, yes, that man has style.  He’s an architect, after all.

He’s also wearing a fitted baseball hat.

Now, I’m not sure where or how I grew to LOVE a man in a fitted hat, but there’s something about that look that drives me crazy! Maybe it’s from my appreciation/fascination with athletes.  They can really pull that off.

I sit down at the couch next to his chair, in this small area with a few other comfy chairs and a flat screen TV on the wall.  It’s warm and sunny and a perfect Saturday afternoon.

We begin to chat.

The conversation is going great! He’s telling me about his family, growing up in SoCal, a bit about his work, etc.  I’m telling him similar things.  There’s a lot of smiling and laughs.  My cheeks hurt.

I ask him why he wanted to contact me and what he liked about me/my profile.  I’m always curious.

He tells me he likes that I’m smart, “put together,” and beautiful.  It’s really cute, because he’s trying to be super polite and wants to elaborate on that one more, and I can tell he’s looking for the right words.  Words that won’t offend me, but will get his point across.   He did a good job.  I blush.  I’m flattered.

He takes his hat off and puts it on the table in front of us.

I ask him to please pick it back up – and to put it back on, but backwards.

He smiles, and does it.

I die.

I look at him and his matching blue hat, and think, “This man can not be 47 years old as it said in his profile! Wow, he looks good.”

At that moment, he leans over and asks for a kiss.

Wait, what?? I just met you! But then again, you are wearing the heck outta that damn hat…

He gives me a sweet kiss on the lips.

I died again.

Those lips!

We continue conversation for another TWO HOURS.  A few more kisses snuck in.

I learn two things:

1.  This man doesn’t care about PDA.

2.  He knows what he wants.

In the meantime, a family of 4 visiting from another country (maybe Ireland or England) comes over to our area to watch the Australian Open on the TV.  A mom, dad, son about 13 and daughter, 21-ish who comes back from the bar with a drink.

Mr. Architect and I are chatting amongst ourselves.

He still has the hat on, backwards.

He’s leaning over to me to tell me something quietly, but stops abruptly, and says, “I think she just took my picture.”

What??

“Yeah! I think that girl just took my picture!” he says, quietly and in shock.

I turn my head to the right, where the girl was sitting, and sure enough, she’s holding her iPhone in the “I’m-trying-not-to-look-conspicuous-while-I-take-your-picture” way.

Well, what the what?!

She looks away.

He’s confused, yet flattered.

I’m smiling, laughing to myself.  Hell, I’m flattered.

He does look like someone famous.  An athlete (he’s 6′ 4″), the backwards hat, his attention that would glide to the sports on the TV in front of us occassionally.  Yep.  I can see what she was thinking.  I also remember that we’re in a high density of tourists area and people not from Los Angeles hope to run into a celebrity during their stay.

Awkward and awesome at the same time.

The real irony here, however, is that his ex (and mother to his two girls, 10 and 15) is somewhat famous.  A well-known TV personality who I went home later to Google.  Yep.  She’s someone.  He’s all too familiar with the Hollywood scene, and prefers to remain in the background. (This makes more sense now and I recall how he doesn’t like having pictures up online.)

So, we’re there nearly 2 1/2 hours by this point and he says he needs to put more money in the meter where he parked.

We get up to leave.

We walk across the street.  His Range Rover is up the block, so I suggest I wait for him at the bottom of the street.  When he comes back we can watch the sunset on the ocean.

He heads up the hill to his truck and not a minute later two of my girlfriends who I had brunch with earlier pop right up in front of me! They were still hanging out in the area and had seen us walk right past them moments ago.

They saw my date! And I wanted them to meet him, so moments later I’m introducing him to my girls.  Random! Awkward! Awesome! haha I love them, and it’s now fun to have them put a face and name with the shenanigans I dish later on. :)

We all walk across the street to the sand so we can watch the sun go down.  My girls decide to part ways, though, and Mr. Architect and I are now alone again.

We stroll on the promenade, walking slowly, talking and holding hands.  He’s very affectionate.

We find a spot to sit and talk some more.

We’re being all cute and kinda lovey-dovey and flirty and people are watching as they pass by on their walks.  (Something I learn to get use to on Date #2, Date #3 and Date #4.)

But it’s just me and him there, really.  The conversation continues…

The topic of his age comes up, and I want to verify that he’s really 47, as it says on his profile.  I love an older guy, and prefer someone in their 40s, but I just can’t believe that he’s that old! He looks much younger!

(Side note: I later asked my girls who met him how old they thought he was, and they said “late 30s, if that.”)

He reacts strangely, and just smiles.

Oh, no.  You did not lie on your profile, buddy! Did you??

He tells me he’s not 47.

I immediately begin to get nervous.

I ask again, demanding that he tells me how old he is.

Maybe he’s younger? Or not, wait, maybe….older? Oh no, how MUCH older?

He chuckles a little and says he’ll tell me.  He’ll be honest with me.

“I’m actually fifty.  Fifty…five.  55 years old.”

WHAT?!?!?!

Holy amazeballs, Batman! That can’t be right.

I feel like I’ve just been given the biggest shock of my life.

“Yep, it’s true.  But only for a few more weeks.  I’ll be 56 in two weeks.  On Superbowl Sunday.” He smiles a big smile.

WHAT?!?!?!?

I look for a paper bag to breathe into.  This is not what I was expecting.

I’m 33.  That’s a 22 year difference!

Ummm…ok, focus.  What do I do now? Hmmm….everything was going so great!

I look at him real close and just shake my head.  I don’t believe him.  He has to be younger.

But then he goes to tell me that he knew I wouldn’t respond to his message on Plenty of Fish if I had seen his real age.

He was right.

And now I think I’m kinda glad he lied.  Otherwise I wouldn’t be here on this fabulous date.

So at this point he’s conscious that I’m either two seconds away from bailing on this date and never talking to him again, or kissing him cuz he’s clearly the hottest AARP-card-carrying member I’ve met. (Omg, please don’t let that last assumption be true. How old do you have to be to qualify for AARP?)

He grabs my hands and then my waist and pulls me into a hug.  He gives me a playful kiss and that helps calm me down a bit.

I decide not to bail, but my mind is still reeling.

We have a bit more conversation and then we know it’s time to get going.  He had something to do with his daughters at 6:30pm.

We say goodbye, but not after me giving him crap about his age some more.  I appreciate that he was honest with me in person, and I know that a lot of people lie in their profiles about age.

And for some reason, I’m more curious than creeped out about this guy.

I’m fascinated by who he is, what he does, his story, his personality.  All of it.

I mean, there is an age difference.  And he was building Denzel Washington a house when I was still in high school (as I later found out), but I think I’m ok with that.

I think. :)

The shenanigans continue…

And a question for you!

The Abs Return: Mr. Surgeon Part II

In case you missed the introduction to Mr. Ab-City Surgeon, head there now and then come back.

So are you ready?!?! Here’s an update on the handsome washboard-having MD!

Ok, well, you see that last exclamation point I just used in the last sentence? Yeah, that sentence alone was about as exciting as it’ll get here, so don’t expect fireworks or get your hopes up for somethin’ juicy.  Not in this one, at least.  (Not every part of the dating in LA shenanigans contains pizazz.  Sorry.  Which further signifies the sometimes draining, dismal, boring, frustrating part of online dating.  I tend to share the exciting and emotional experiences, but yes, there are the hum-drum, snoozefest moments, too.)

And although I was totally excited to see the blue, flashing “New message from (insert his screen name here)” on OkCupid come flying in tonight, the excitement was about a 2 on a scale of 1 to 10.

Why, you ask?

Mostly because it had been 8 DAYS since we last exchanged messages.  8 DAYS! That’s like an eternity in online dating speak.  Nobody waits that long and still remembers someone they talked to once, over a week ago.

Except me, I guess.  I remembered him.  He was even blog-worthy.  And I can thank my photographic memory, too.  And for his six-pack abs that permanently burned a hole in my single mind’s eye…

Regardless, I was caught up in a TV show when the blue light came blinking and I didn’t want to look toooo eager, so I waited a bit to check his message and respond.

I had previously asked him whether he was from LA.

He started with:

“Hi (insert my name here)!”

An exclamation point! He used my name! That was nice.  Some interest there, obviously.

And then he answers my question.  In two sentences.  And that was it. Nothing more, no further questions.

WHEW! Told ya.  Excitement.  Drama.  Intrigue.

NOT.

I sent him back a generic message, and asked another related question about his experience living in Los Angeles.

So now I’m sitting here thinking:

A.) Hmmm.  He wrote me back, but is he still interested? I mean, he DID write me back.  He DID use an exclamation point.  He DID use my name (and re-look at my profile before responding.) But he was very short in his response, and didn’t ask a single question in return.  Hmmm.

and,

B.) I wonder if Mr. Architect will let me know about confirming plans for this Friday’s date tonight, or tomorrow? Hmmm.

So there ya have it.

My interest has clearly been diverted off of abs and steered into a very different direction.  A taller, older, more established direction.  And yes, I just called Mr. Architect more established than a surgeon, believe it or not.  He’s incredible! (I still owe you more info on Mr. Architect, I know…)

In my first blog about Mr. Surgeon, I had predicted that he’d either never respond, we’d send a few messages back and forth, or we’d get married – with the reality laying somewhere in the middle.

My further prediction now?

I think that was the end.

I’d be very surprised if I hear back from him again.

I would NOT be surprised, however, if I found some more abs on OkCupid.  The amount of beautiful men sporting almost perfect bodies on dating sites in Los Angeles is almost laughable.  They’re everywhere.  Must be something in the water…

Mr. Architect – Will you build me a house?

Apparently Plenty of Fish (POF) doesn’t let you send someone a message if you haven’t at least uploaded one picture of yourself first.  THIS kind of a rule is amazing.   Online dating is so much better when there’s pics.

Yet Mr. Architect found this out the hard way when he came across my profile and immediately wanted to contact me.  (He later tells me how and why he initially reached out.)

Seeing as how he’s a very private guy, he didn’t want to upload any pictures.  However, he saw me and wanted to contact me, so up a picture went.

Operation: Talk To This Girl, began.

First, he added me as a Favorite.

I ignored it.

Big deal.  Tons of people add me as a favorite, but never do anything beyond that.  Plus, your profile’s pretty blank, dude.  Not interested.

A few days pass.  He then sent me a message:

“Good morning…”

That was it.

So, naturally, I ignored it, also.

Not because I’m a snob, but if that’s all you’re going to give me in your first message, I’m not interested.  It’s not my job to create your profile (or conversation) FOR you!

Besides, after the hundredth first-ever message from guys like: “Hi.” “Hey there.” “What’s up?” “Hey beautiful.” “How are you?” ….I want to stab my eye with a pencil. Where’s the originality?!

Points for someone who knows how to communicate! Yes, even online, it’s a stretch nowadays, and someone who can string together more than two original sentences is already sexier than the other “Hi” guy. Ugh.  Kill me.

A few days later, this guy who had actually listed his profession on his very limited profile as “Sales Professional”, decided to give it one more shot.

He finally sends:

“Hello,

You’re gorgeous and I think you’re just stunning! And I’m sure you’re bright and put together as well, and I would love to talk sometime, or if you’re up for it, even meet……I’m a 6’4″ architect ~ funny, bright, cool laid-back guy who is also very fit.

You can check me out via my website (insert his company website here) and or contact/email me on FB.

Cheers,
(insert his first initial, last initial here)”

NOW we’re talking! I loved the extra info. And a girl LOVES to hear she’s stunning and beautiful.

I was listening…

I loved the mini-pitch of who he is (an architect, huh?), and that he gave me extra links to look up (ie – stalk) him online.

Winning!

So, naturally, I stalk.

Before I even consider responding, I jump to his website.

Oh! Very nice! I see pics of his portfolio from some projects he’s worked on and I’m immediately impressed.  I see the same picture he’s uploaded to his POF profile under the “About Us” tab for his Residential Design firm.  A lengthy bio explains not only who he is, but that he specializes in the Classical tradition, with special emphasis on American renaissance period between 1880 – 1930.  He’s LEGIT!

I remember that I had listed “Interior Design” as one of my interests on my POF profile, because this stuff fascinates me.  I’m immediately intrigued.

So then I stalk him on Facebook, and after jumping over to my FB app to type in his name, I find we already have 10 friends in common here in Los Angeles.  Whoa! That’s gotta be a good thing, right?

So I respond to this very patient man’s message and let him know how glad I was that I didn’t have to stab my eye with a pencil (j/k).

I loved his note, told him I was interested and then gave him my digits.

I ended my note with:

“PS – If this works out, will you build me a house?”

Joking, of course, and a few hours later I receive a text from him.  He announces who he is and that yes, if this works out, he’ll build me a house. :)

I smiled, took a quick trip down Fantasy Lane to pick out some fabulous drapes, beautiful paint choices and shiny slabs of granite, and then went about my business.

Next step: a phone call. After that? A date…

Mr. Ab-City Surgeon

I’ve seen a lot of abs in my day.  Guys who are super cut, extremely fit, with tight abdominals that show muscles I didn’t know existed.

For some really crazy reason, I seem to attract a lot of guys in LA who are in tip top shape -personal trainers, actors, models, etc.  And all this, despite the fact that my time spent in the gym is less than a fish spends on land, but hey, they’re not complaining.

I’ve even dated a celebrity personal trainer for about 8 months and we never worked out together ONCE.  He was fine with that and totally into me.

While you have to be attracted to each other, and it’s important to live a healthy lifestyle, newsflash, ladies: curves, confidence and a sense of humor are IN.  :)

Which brings us to Mr. Surgeon.

First of all, I find it interesting that I’ve now met several men in the healthcare field recently.  The Doc, a home care nurse (two dates in now…blog coming perhaps), and now a surgeon.  Strange? Hmm. Maybe.

Regardless, I must let you know about Mr. Surgeon, a new prospect I met this week on OkCupid.  Here’s why he’s blog-worthy.

If you’ve any experience with online dating, you know that it’s a crap shoot.  There are literally millions of singles online.  A good handful of those aren’t real, and the vast majority of them are at least PARTLY fictional.  People tend to lie and/or stretch the truth about their age, height, weight, career, hobbies (would everyone stop tying to pose as a world traveler? Please, Jacque Cousteau, you really don’t travel that much.)

So when I see a profile that has outrageous claims, immaculate pics and a lengthy description filled out for each section of his profile that’s also 99% free of any grammar or writing errors, too?!?!?!, I immediately put up skeptical antennas.

So I come across Mr. Ab-City Surgeon recently, who earned this name due to one of his pics in a Halloween costume.  He’s wearing a bow-tie and cuffs, sunglasses, pants and Calvin Klein underwear, which I can see the tops of because he WASN’T WEARING A SHIRT!

He was, however, wearing his abs, and the definition was pretty ridiculous. No shirt needed.

It immediately reminded me I had to do laundry.

Now, again, I’ve seen plenty of washboards in my day, but this guy was also donning a big, bright smile.  My weakness. I LOVE happy people.

I further flip through his pics and see him (with clothes) in scenes at the beach (ok, well, he did have his shirt off there, too), a few with his gorgeous chocolate labrador, one flexing on some rocks by the ocean (hello, biceps, too), and one of my favorites – him scaling a glacier. Sure, why not.

But that was all just icing on the cake, really.

I skip to read his thoroughly well-thought-out profile and it only gets better.

He’s a surgeon.

And a personal trainer.

And a volunteer.

And wants to start a business.

And a Christian.

And…totally cute, and funny, and charming, and HAS TO BE FAKE.

I mean, come ON!

I’m so intrigued and fascinated that I decide to send him a message.

Typically, I will view a profile and see if the guy checks me out in return (they’re notified).  And if he does, I let him decide to send me a note or not.

However, there are the rare few who inspire me to write something clever and witty, in hopes of sparking a conversation.

That’s it.  Mr. Ab-City Surgeon was getting a message.

Here’s exactly what I wrote him:

“(insert his name he left in his profile)…

Your profile can’t be real….lol!

I’ve seen a lot of online dating profiles and yours is pretty outstanding. It started with your adorable dog, then the Instagram pics that’d make most pro photogs jealous, then the line of “…Although I love doing surgeries…”, followed by the abs and bowtie, glacier climbing and “Christianity and very serious about it.”

I mean, really? You’re a total catch! If you’re trying to destroy that already high bar of expectations women have in LA, you did it with flying colors. Very nicely done, sir. :)

Please tell me you’re single because your awesome life simply doesn’t allow you time to find an awesome woman counterpart (which is prob why you’re here on OKC). THAT I would believe.

Regardless, it’d be great to get to know you if you’re interested.

Cheers and best of luck in your search!”

And off I sent it.  Into the ethers of OkCupid and the Internet to see if the man would:

A.) look at my profile, and
B) respond.

I gave it a 20% chance that he’d respond.  I know this “type.”  He hadn’t been online in a few days, so I knew he wasn’t active.

I was so impressed by this dude that I posted about it on Facebook. (Hello to my friends who I’m connected with there and saw that post!) I asked them when they thought he’d respond.

And one of my girlfriends predicted three days…and wouldn’t ya know it? THREE DAY LATER, he responds to my message!

HOLY EXPLETIVE!

I about lost my mind when I saw the blue, blinking notification come across my phone.  “New Message” on OkCupid from (insert his profile name).

After I got done flipping my s*** for a good two minutes, screaming and freaking out, I regained composure and checked his message.

Much to my surprise, not only did he respond, but it was the beginnings of a legit conversation!

He said:

“LOL! You’re too funny, (insert my name here)…and yes, my profile is very real :-)

I actually joined okc a few years ago after a friend of mine encouraged me to, then I got tired of it so I took a break from it for a while. My work/projects have definitely contributed to my single status but mostly I just haven’t quite crossed paths with the “right one” yet. I’d be lying though if I said that I didn’t appreciate having my “Single” card. Ha! How long have you been in LA?

- C”

And there ya have it.

I responded accordingly, stating that I was glad to know I made him laugh….and that he’s the real deal.  I replied with a few other questions and sent it off.

So now we wait, some more.

Either he’ll never respond again, he’ll respond with a few more questions and eventually want my number to talk and/or meet up, or we’ll get married.

Statistics say it’ll land somewhere in the middle and I’m going in with zero expectations, as I do with every new introduction I make.

I’ll be sure to keep you posted on this one.

That’d be hilarious if he was a heart surgeon.

The shenanigans continue…

Pretty Accurate Description of Online Dating – gifs style

Given my extensive experience of both personal and professional use of online dating sites, I’d say this pretty much sums it up!

Click the link to see all the steps in the “cycle.” Heehee…

Screen Shot 2014-01-15 at 12.30.03 PM

 

 

 

Mr. Booty Call

Wow, where do I start?

The beginning, I suppose.

About two weeks ago I received a message from a handsome Latin lad on OkCupid.  A rugged-looking, great smile with beautiful brown eyes that sparkle.  He’s an ex-Cirque dancer who’s traveled the world and now single, living in LA and working in post-production for a large company in the entertainment industry.  He liked my profile and wanted to see if I was interested in meeting up to ‘take a coffee.’ (The broken English is very cute.)

I think he’s really great-looking and sounds interesting, so we send a few messages back and forth over the next week, and eventually exchange numbers.

Last night he texts me to see if I was available to take that coffee – he would be in my area before having to meet a friend out.  Perfect.

We decide to meet at a nearby Starbucks, and as I approach he texts “Here?” I respond that I’m crossing the street.

(Side note – texting the play-by-play the moments before arrival and meeting a stranger for the first time comforts me.  Thanks to quick texts,  you don’t have the be the dork in the coffee shop looking at every new person who walks through the door, thinking, is that them??? Are they still coming? Am I too early? Did they find parking? When will they get here?! :))

I see a man with a beard step out of Starbucks and look at his phone as I make my way across the street to yet another first date scenario.  I’m feeling excited! The anticipation of who this new person could be in your life definitely fills your head each time, moments before every first date actually happens.

He sees me walk up and we hug and say hello.  It’s the awkward, nervous moment that happens on all first dates.

“Good to see you! Should we go inside?” he asks.  Thick Spanish accent.  Nice! The beard is different, though.  He didn’t have that in his main profile pic.

We walk inside and he asks me how my day was.  I tell him it was good and he asks what I do for a living.  I tell him and he’s interested.  I then return the question and he tells me where he works.

“No way! I have a good friend who works at that company,” I tell him, and he immediately holds his head and says…”Oh no……”

Now, at this moment, we both start smiling.  The next 10 seconds will be very telling…

He asks who it is.  I give him her name and he immediately grabs his head and says, “Oh NO!!!!! You’re kidding me! Of COURSE I know her! Oh woww…..” SMH.

And then he looks at me and says, “Wait.  You and I, we’ve actually met before. At that….that, um….show, in Hollywood.”

Sure enough, we had.  The lightbulb clicked.  This man and I have met, although very briefly, several months ago during Intermission at a play in Hollywood my friend (his co-worker) had invited me to.

But THEN….it ALLLLLL clicked for me.

This was the same man who my friend had the occasional…um, meeting, with.  A casual work fling she’d told me about, with a hot Latin dancer guy who was all about the sex.

OH SNAP.  This guy is her booty call.

So at this point, we’re both extremely red in the face.  We’re laughing because it’s so awkward, and I’m DYING inside because I doubt he knows what I know. Oh boy.  What do I do now?! And is this really happening?!

So I keep quiet, and as we try to maintain composure, about 2 people who are standing near us ask if we’re actually in line or not.

We were so caught off guard.   I’m sure we were standing there like 2 idiots.  He asks if I’d still like a coffee. I say yes, and we order our drinks.

As we wait for his Passionfruit Tea to be made, we still are just laughing and shaking our heads.  “Awkward…” he says, over and over.

“Ok, right?! And what are the chances?! There are millions of people in this city and we end up meeting!” I marvel.

He agrees it’s pretty crazy, still clearly embarrassed and/or trying to figure out what info I actually KNOW about himself.

So we sit down and he laughs and says we should text her we’re here together.  I laugh and say, “No, wait.  Let’s take a selfie together and send it! She’s going to die….”

And die she did, as I sent that pic of the two of us to her phone – me, one of her good gfs, and him, her booty call – just chillin’ at Starbucks.  On a first date.

Lord, help me.  This city is too small.

Mike the Motivator

I met someone.  Not in person, yet, but we’ve been communicating for a few weeks.

One of the things I like about him is that he’s always so positive! He’s very funny and real, but also super motivating.

He asks great questions and is really trying to get to know me.

Today he asked what my pet peeves were.

I listed a few, which included people who chew with their mouth open, low battery life on my electronic devices, winter, and my disdain for rude people.

He agreed, particularly with the last one, so we talked about that a bit. He sent me this…

image

I.like.it.  :)

More to come….

A NEW Year of Shenanigans!

It’s 2014.  Wow, time flies.

First of all, apologies to those waiting for more frequent updates about my exciting dating life here in Los Angeles.  It’s been a few months since my last blog post and that’s totally not cool there was such a lag.    My bad.

As much as the loop kept going, I didn’t keep you in it for a couple reasons:

1.  Some of the recent shenanigans involved people who have the link to this blog, and therefore are most likely reading these words. (Hello!) In my attempt to keep people anonymous, including myself, I chose to not write up those escapades.   They’re pretty special to me.

Plus, that’d be asking for some seriously vulnerable words on a page.  I’m pretty open on this blog for those of you who DO know who I am, but dang, considering how things went with some people, that’d be like open heart surgery.  Considering this blog post is titled “A New Year of Shenanigans!” instead of “OMG I’m no longer single!” or “OMG I’m engaged!” or something like that…yeah, no stories for you. Sorry.  Next!

2.  I’ve been busy.

Now, yeah I know, that’s a piss poor excuse when the shenanigans were gettin’ so GOOD on this blog, but seriously I’ve never been busier in my life.  Work consumed me, I moved, the holidays happened, I went to Chicago, yada yada.  All good, amazing stuff, but it took up my spare time and I find sleep to be amazing.  (My new bed, btw, is lovely.  Yes, Mr. Mattress Expert hooked me up!) So again, apologies, but no stories for you.

That brings us to today.

This post, I’ll give you a brief summary of the past 2+ months.  It won’t be super juicy, but it’ll be interesting.

Hmmm, let’s see about a few highlights…

People keep popping back up.  This happens with 90% of guys I ever meet.  We don’t work out, I’m no longer interested, they move away, I tell them they’re a jerk, etc.  Sometimes they’re actually cool guys and it’s nice to hear from them again.  But they always get back in touch with me, somehow.

Mr. Can I Get a Vowel  has since tried to see me three different times.  His last text was a “Happy New Year! Wishing you all the…blah blah blah….in the new year, blah blah blah…inserts my name here….” Ummm yeah, no.  I just checked his Facebook page again.  Same girl is all hugged up in his pics.  Come ON, dude!

Mr. Marriage Proposal actually helped me move.  Since we’ve known each other for several years, it was a kind gesture and he has a truck – totally winning in the friend department.  It was a bit awkward cuz it was him, me and my best friend (who’s a guy) who helped me move across town.  I didn’t have much and we made it in one trip with just his truck and my car.  It was awkward cuz he started pulling attitude from the beginning when he saw my bff.  I think he was jealous.  I dunno.  Either way, he still smokes (eww) and that’s a dealbreaker for me.  He ended up laughing with us all and having a good time by the end of the move, but we haven’t seen each other since, even though he’s texted me a few times to say hello, and let me know he’d be honored to be in my presence again.  Hmm.

The Doc.  Sigh.  Well, The Doc and I are going to be an epic story, I think.  As much as my last blog posts had me swearing I’d never see him again, I lied.  To be kinda fair,  we had a pretty decent period of time where we truly did NOT see each other, talk to other, text each other, call each other, send smoke signals, NOTHIN’….yet the inevitable happened.  Like a moth to an ever-lovin’ flame, this guy waltzes into a party I threw awhile back, grabs me in the middle of the bar and didn’t let go for an hour.  Literally.  An hour.  We stood there hugged up, all smiles and chatter, catching up, while the loud world around us just melted away.  It was like a frickin’ movie and I had no idea it was happening.  My friends all told me the next day.  A few too many drinks prior to his arrival might have also contributed to the epically long slow dance.  It was good to see him.  We recently spent another 2 1/2 hours on the phone talking about love, Disney movies, parenting techniques, his work as a doctor, my work and career and more.  This is not unusual for us and time flies when we’re together.

I don’t forsee an ending to that one anytime soon, although Prince Charming is most certainly welcome to swoop in and make me forget about the spell of this fine-ass Belizean doctor who keeps getting more amazing the longer I get to know him.

There’s also been a few unimportant guys come floating through that I had met online, although nothing to write home about.

Things have really “picked up” here in the last few weeks, but that’s a given considering we’re in peak hunting season, er, dating season.  Excuse me.

The top of the new year is when all lonely singles make that resolution to find love in the next 12 months.  They look back at the awkward Christmas parties they went to alone, the terribly embarrassing conversations from their family about when they’re going to find someone and say, “Yeah, that sucked.  Let’s not go through that again.”

For me this year, the holidays had a mixture of all kinds of feelings.  I was all over the map.  Up, down, middle ground.  I kept pretty busy with work and family trips but it never really felt like Christmas.  I suppose traditions with a partner or loved one makes things more special? I dunno.  I look forward to that in the future, however, and know that the shenanigans aren’t going to last forever.  (Sorry, blog readers.)

I have a feeling that I’ll meet “him” this year.  Or who “he” will be, will be revealed by the end of 2014.  Just a hunch.

So until then, I promise to pick up the pace again with my blogging. I’ll be sure to keep you informed of the good stuff, so long as it’s not too terribly telling. And even then, my loyal blog readers deserve to hear about it.  I promise to keep sharing, as long as you keep saying you want to live vicariously through my shenanigans on my pursuit of love.

(And if you’re new to the blog, feel free to carve out some time on your lunch break to start from the bottom ‘n get here.)

Drake, out.

Cheers and happy new year!

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