you’re doing it wrong!

While on my recent girls’ weekend, I shared a few of my dating-gone-awry stories — you know, like the guy with the elastic waistband, the guy wearing those hideous brown shoes (with black pants, I might add) and many, many more.

Finally, one of the women exclaimed, “Wow, don’t you just want to take a guy by the shoulders, shake him a few times and tell him, ‘You’re doing it wrong!’?” Which was immediately followed by the idea that we could go into business coaching men about how to date without making complete asses of themselves.

But why stop there? There are plenty of women who are making mistakes, too! Take, for instance, the single woman some girlfriends and I ran into at the bar the other night. When the three of us noticed she was alone, we included her in our conversation. It all began so nicely, and then…

This woman, who was well into her forties, began to share news of her best date ever, which happened to have occurred within the past several days. They golfed, and her game was great! They dined. They had wonderful conversation. And she slept with him. On the first date. (Okay, to be honest, there was some disagreement among we original three as to whether this was truly a bad thing…but I guess it depends on what you’re looking for.) And, with him, she’d experienced her first-ever orgasm. Actually, she said he’d given her her first orgasm…now that’s love! (failed writes sarcastically).

But wait: it gets worse!

She lamented that they had talked about doing something over the weekend and he hadn’t yet called (it was Saturday night). She confessed to mixing business and pleasure by saying that she’d see him at a work event early the next week. And then she said she’d already made him chocolate chip cookies because he happened to have mentioned that he liked them.

That’s when I turned to her and said dryly: “You’re doing it wrong.”

“What?!” she asked, incredulously. “Okay, tell me more. Clearly I need to hang out with you gals more often!”

Let’s ignore for a moment that all four of us at the bar were single… Suspend your disbelief, as she did, to hear what we had to say:

You’re trying too hard to please him. Already. What’s he going to do for you?
Don’t invest so much in one great date. Be a little indifferent; let him pursue you.
Now you know how to orgasm. It’s not about him; you’re the one who’s awakened your abilities.
Leverage him to help your career and see if the relationship thing works later. Or vice versa. Trying to do both at once will give him all of your energy and attention. That’s too much too soon.

Her: “So I shouldn’t give him the cookies?”

Me: “No.”

Her: “But I already have them zipped up in a storage bag with his name on it.”

Me: “Absolutely not. You can have them around your house and, if he happens to drop by, you can casually offer him one. Do NOT let him know you made them for him.”

Her: “Okay” (uncertainly).

I left feeling I’d done my good deed for the weekend.

Let me be clear: I do not position myself as an expert in dating. Like most of us, I can point out what’s glaringly wrong and, luckily, I’ve learned a lot from experience. I was probably in her shoes — trying too hard, appearing desperate — maybe even as little as two years ago. I acknowledge I have much, much more to learn as I embark on my journey of finding a wonderful, nurturing, uplifting sort of partnership.

And, along the way, I sure as heck would appreciate if someone would be kind enough to let me know when I’m doing it wrong!

sell me something good

I kinda like to be sold, now and again. I want to be convinced why one car is better than another, or this vacuum works better than the other, or why a particular mobile plan should earn my business, etc.

Given the advice I received at happy hour the other day, it seems we should explore this from the dating perspective:

A co-worker suggested that I may want to see if I can target my dating strategy to go out with salesmen. Sales guys, he went on, tend to be motivated, earn well, know how to dress and entertain, must be able to carry on a conversation — and they generally like nice things. (You can begin to understand some of what motivates this particular co-worker if you read between the lines.)

“You might get played a time or two,” he cautioned, to which I replied, “Meh, it’s probably my turn anyway.” Not that I’m excited by the prospect of getting played, but I’m wiser than I once was, and I tend not to fall so hard so fast.

I think, in many ways, my co-worker is right. A sales guy could make a good match for me. After all, my last boyfriend was a sales guy. He sure sold me — and often it was more of a hard sell than necessary. “Don’t tell me the kind of man you are,” I would say to him, “show me.” But I loved that a certain amount of his energy was spent trying to impress me. And I loved that he enjoyed dressing well and going to nice restaurants, varied forms of arts and entertainment, and more.

Contrast such behavior with that of my wasband, who seemed to aim for something short of baseline for nearly any partnership, marriage or parenting-related hope or presumption:

Once, while in couples counseling, I expressed that I thought honesty should be the standard for a committed couple. He looked at me with an expression that showed just how ridiculous a notion he thought that was. (I didn’t get much back-up from the counselor, either, by the way.) How asinine of me to think he should have been honest about his finances, schedule — or anything else, for that matter.
When it came to providing for his children, I suggested to the courts that he could earn a moderate income (much lower than I believe he’s capable of earning) by continuing to do the work he’d done for most of his career. Sure enough, he promptly went out and got a job — not in his field — that paid less than half of what I projected he could earn.

Back to sales guys, though: I think — no, I know — I would like to be in a relationship with someone for whom motivation is not an issue.

Yet I suppose there are potential downsides to a more traditional sales mentality. For example, might he be tempted to say or do things for the sake of expediency, going for the easy payout, rather than do the right thing? I suppose this may be what my co-worker means about “getting played.” Even if I didn’t get played, but such a way of thinking had become part of his professional character, I’m not sure I could appreciate that. And I’ve met a few salespeople who are downright smarmy!

So, what do you think? There have got to be many good ones out there! Any experience dating a salesman? Married to one? Where would I find one? Or should I even look?

obsessed

I am completely obsessed with the thought of bedding a guy I know. I mean to the point of distraction. I mentioned my libido, right?!

I want to rub my hands on his stubbly jaws; I want to kiss his lips; I want to tear off his clothes and get at least as kinky as I’ve ever been. And maybe more. I’m practically drooling at the thought! He’s not the best looking, he doesn’t have the best body, we don’t even have crazy chemistry. I simply want what I want. And I think we’d have fun. I bet it would be really hot!

But I don’t know if he wants me, too. And I’m having a crisis of confidence. I don’t know how or whether to let him know, to flirt or to be direct.

Furthermore, I don’t know how he feels about me. He’s said some nice things in the past, but never made any real moves… Perhaps more critically, I don’t know how I feel about him. I mean, I don’t know if I can separate my physical desire from my emotions. If — no, when — it happens, will I be able to simply enjoy him in the moment? Or will I wish for more? If I developed deeper feelings, how would he feel about that?

And so, for now, I remain transfixed with the thought…

…except when I’m thinking of bedding the other guys who are also on my mind.

a relaxed pace

I’m enjoying the way I get to know people now, a little at a time, no urgency. And I’m enjoying that the folks I’m spending time with also have children and don’t seem to mind getting a date once every couple of weeks.

Not only does this relaxed schedule take the pressure off me (when all I’ve done for the past week are manage logistics, work late, shuttle children around, do laundry and shop for groceries), but also allows a fellow to miss me, place a high value on his time with me and wait with anticipation to see me.

Kinda works in my favor..just a little…I think.

deep thoughts

I’ve been away for a few days, my first fly-away girls’ weekend in probably a dozen years — for sure since before I’ve had children. It was relaxing, it was delectable, it was…a whole lot of estrogen.

And my deep thought for the weekend was…(drum roll, please)…penises are fun!

That’s right: I spent the weekend with a group of women and fantasized about spending it with a man. The scenery was spectacular, the food was wonderful, the entertainment was fun — and all of it was potentially romantic.

One evening, we gals sat around a fireplace and watched the silhouettes moving through the rooms of the resort around us. In some, we could see people getting ready for a late dinner. In one, we saw a couple as they got out of the shower, slowly get ready, start making out, start getting “unready” and then get ready again and leave their room. For a moment, we thought we might see some real action. (Note to self: close the heavy drapes when getting ready in a hotel room.)

And I sat there in silent ambivalence, enjoying the company of women, but wishing a for a proper lay. I fantasized about my ex (boyfriend, not husband), about more-like-it, about men I saw nearby… perhaps tellingly, I did not fantasize about the man I’ve currently been seeing (not exclusively). Hmm…

I think perhaps it’s time I went out and found myself some fun…the penises are fun kind of fun.

chicks who cheat

People tend to react strongly to infidelity. Perhaps that’s because we’ve all had some experience — whether we’ve been betrayed or betrayed another, or know a close friend who’s been jilted. Sit around in a group of women and, eventually, a story of someone’s wayward boyfriend or husband is bound to come up.

So why is that, lately, it seems every guy I meet has been the one who’s been cheated on? Even the best looking, most intriguing of them! And what gives with chicks who cheat?

It’s so easy to imagine men as over sexed and unable to be monogamous — the media and a bit of personal experience suggest it’s rampant. However, my more recent experience suggests that women are as capable of infidelity. And probably as over sexed.

So what brings a woman to cheat? Is it the same reasons men that bring men to? Or are women’s reasons different? Sure, sexual dissatisfaction could be a reason. Sure, there are players. But I tend to believe that most people don’t set out to be unfaithful. In fact, I think many who find themselves in the midst of an affair are baffled at how they got there and completely unaware of how to get out alive. I tend to think they get there because of some vulnerability; perhaps their emotional needs were not being met. Perhaps they or their partners neglected to nurture the one relationship that should be most central.

I’d like to think that I would never cheat on a partner. I can’t imagine it. Once in an exclusive, committed relationship, it’s simply not something I’ve ever done. Even against my therapist’s advice, I remained faithful until after my ex finally moved out. But I can remember those lonely, needy, unloved feelings during the worst times in my marriage. And who can say what might have happened if someone tender, loving and caring had come along when I was at my most vulnerable? I’d like to think I’m stronger than that. I’m pretty sure I am now.

Still, as easy as it would be to judge, I can’t help but feel a certain amount of compassion (and a little pity) for those who stray, even as I empathize with their victims.

honesty

I tend to be pretty direct in my communication. Yet I’m also an eternal optimist, the one who sees the silver lining, whose glass is always more than half full. And I try to be kind. Add to those that my job often requires me to portray difficult messages in the most positive light.

Add these qualities, habits and conditioning together and sometimes I end up coming off a bit like a spin doctor.

So I’d love to hear what you think: Should I continue to be kind and “spin” the message — or would it be better, more instructive in the long run, to be completely, blatantly, directly honest?

Consider the fellows I went out with last weekend. I mostly blathered something about not feeling any magic or chemistry between us. But if I shot from the hip, like this?

To guy A: “Honestly, you dress like you come from an outer-ring suburb, you’re a stingy tipper and you eat like a caveman. That’s why.”
To guy B: “You’re a whining infant, and I cannot wait to get as far away from you as humanly possible.”
To guy C: “It’s because you wore shorts with an elastic waistband. The gulf is too wide for me to cross.”

As an aside, I’ve found it very amusing that, in telling my dating stories to male and female friends alike, the men I know actually had stronger reactions to the dude wearing elastic waistband shorts than the women. A girlfriend sympathetically said, “Oh dear.” The guys came up with questions and comments including these:

“Did he take you to a buffet?”
“Was he planning on gaining a few pounds?”
“Wow. That’s not even trying!”

But I digress…

Like I said, I don’t want to be known for spin — and I don’t want to be known for being a bitch. But there may be a nugget of helpful information in my brutal examples for these fellows…

How much honesty is too much? What do you think?

a little magic, please

The reason I took the step of dating online is because my time is compressed: I get the children out the door in the morning, drive to work, work, drive to pick up the children, scramble to put dinner on the table and try to catch up on work, housework or quality time with my angels in the evening. I usually collapse of exhaustion sometime before ten each night. In other words, I don’t see a lot of openings or opportunities during which I might happen across someone who shares similar interests, knows other folks in common or might otherwise catch my gaze from across the room, knowing instantly…

Ideally, this would all unfold more naturally: my wish is to meet someone who is part of one of my circles, with whom I get to spend time in groups — someone with whom a sense of comfort and interest will develop over time, blossom into a friendship and then become passionate over time.

So here is my wish to the universe:

Let him have kind eyes and a warm smile.
Let him get me and all my weirdness and idiosyncracies and love me not in spite of them but because of them.
Let our relationship come at the right time and for the highest good of everyone involved.
Let us bring out the best in one another.
Let us be blessed with abundance so that we may give and share and be generous with the blessings we bestow upon others.
Let him save a special look just for me.
Let us love, honor and respect each other.

I realize this list is a great deal different from what I wrote many, many months ago — and which I haven’t looked at since I don’t know when, probably more than a year now.

I’m not sure whether or how this might happen, but I’m keeping the faith and holding space in my heart for the possibility.

the tally

Earlier this week, I removed my profile from the online dating site. Again.

I’m exhausted. And I think I’ve exhausted the group of men who found me interesting and who I found interesting enough to meet, as well. And there’s only one of them I’m going to see again. Frankly, I have no inkling or notion or expectations about whether that will go anywhere, but I know that the last couple of times we saw each other, we spent a lot of time laughing.

You know I’d been questioning why the heck I was doing crazy things like going on four dates within a 24-hour period… I’m not sure I know the answer other than to give it a chance, to see if just maybe something felt right with one of those fellows. But there was no magic.

So, as I look back over all the online dating I’ve done in the past year and a handful of months, here’s what I’ve gotten from it:

I’ve learned that I am patient and have perseverance and that I can be incredibly kind while being honest about not wanting to see someone again.
I’ve learned that men can be genuine and authentic in courting in ways that I hadn’t experienced in my younger years.
I’ve learned that I have more important personal needs and priorities than meeting a slew of new guys on my child-free weekends.
I’ve made a friend who, for some time, I resented for not sharing the same interest in me as I had in him…my god, I was so crestfallen when he Facebook friended me!…even as I knew our energies weren’t quite right together at the time (and perhaps never will be).
I had a wonderful, loving, nurturing relationship in which I was accepted, adored, valued and in which there was honest and open communication. It was such a positive experience and a joy that I continue to feel blessed and grateful to have shared so much with such a special soul! Though we were not meant to last, what a gift it was to have shared what we did! (and p.s. that thing he did after an afternoon stroll around a sculpture park was pretty memorable, too!)
I’ve gotten really good at being authentic about myself. I am fabulous — and also fabulously flawed. I have a freak flag, which I not only accept, but also wave proudly. So I’m no longer contorting myself to try to make someone like me or to meet some relationship need as I foolishly did when I was younger.
I’ve learned how much I love my life, right now, and even through all the challenging times I’ve lived through these past few years.
I was tested for and became more educated about sexually transmitted diseases.
I learned to speak frankly to my children about dating and relationships (and they could not be less interested).
I learned that I’m still learning how to prioritize myself — whether that means a massage or mani-pedi, getting a sitter, hiring a lawn boy to cut the grass, or finding time to exercise.
I’ve learned that it’s easy to dismiss and not give second chances, but that life can be so much more rewarding when one does leave a door open, even if just a crack.
I’ve met an extraordinary number of people I would not have otherwise met.
Out of the whole ball of yarn has come only one lover, my ex boyfriend, who was generous and giving. And I’m okay with that part of the record, too.

It would be easy to say, “ugh, this sucks!” about online dating — and, in some ways, it does suck. But look at how much I’ve gotten from the experience. The whole thing is a social experiment, to be sure; it’s far more natural to fall for someone we’ve met in high school, college or a work place along the way, and with whom we share people in common who can vouch for or vet these potential mates.

And I think that’s what I’ve been hoping for all along…to meet someone with whom it seems that natural, with whom it all began as a friendship and…

On second thought, I’ve got to save some content for a future post. So I’ll leave it at that, for now.

not sure what I’m looking for; only know that I haven’t found it

Earlier this weekend, I went on a stamina-testing four dates in 24 hours: dinner and live music on Friday, followed by coffee, lunch and dinner on Saturday. I also managed to squeeze in a weekend haircut, brow wax, girlfriend’s birthday celebration, yoga class and some other miscellaneous errands and chores.

As you know, I’d already begun to question why on earth I’m doing all this. Even before my first date of the weekend, I’d begun to realize that I’m no longer sure what I want out of this; I only know that I haven’t yet found it. And maybe, once again, I’m realizing that I may not be ready to find it.

But I suppose, as far as you, the reader, are concerned, all of that contemplation is neither here nor there…so, let’s get on to the recap:

Friday night dinner and music with the legal eagle was pleasant. This was the fourth time we’ve met and, to me, the pressure was on to either find a connection or cut him loose. We’d had many pleasant conversations, especially over the phone, and there are many things to like about his personality…but I simply couldn’t find myself drawn to him physically. He was too awkward to make a move, and I (for whatever reason) just didn’t have it in me to take some action that might invite or welcome his advances. Again, he showed up with a series of small gifts, some of which were thoughtful, others cheesy. As you know, I love receiving gifts, and his explanations for what and why he chose were enlightening. Conversation was engaging and I felt entirely comfortable being exactly as I am, unfiltered. So why couldn’t I get excited about him? Truth is, I don’t know. Yet the humor is always in the superficial things we notice that turn us off; they may not be enough to kill a deal by themselves, but they can add up. So, here it is: he dresses like he’s from some outer-ring suburb (which he is), a little shlubby — black tee-shirt and trousers with an ill-fitting button-up shirt over the top — all matched with the sort of casual brown shoes you’d see in a Land’s End-type catalog. Not the sort of dinner and drinks downtown combo you’d expect to see in a nice downtown club. Then, while he generously picked up dinner and drinks, I stole a glance and found him to be — in my mind — a less-than-generous tipper (I like to stay in the 18-20% neighborhood myself). Finally, I was relieved to be able to watch the musicians on stage during our meal, in order to avoid gazing the caveman-like spectacle going on in front of me. He was hunkered over his meal as though eating was, at that moment, a serious job, ripping into it with fork and fingers. And it’s not the first time I’d noticed less-than-pleasant table manners and poor tipping — things that, over time, would grow to irritation. In the end, I told him how much I’d enjoyed our conversations and that, having tried to feel something more, I just didn’t feel any attraction.
Date two: Saturday morning coffee. I had to be cordial, because the fellow across the table from me has a child at the same school and in the same grade as one of mine; we are likely to run into each other at school functions. But, truth be told, he was so negative, so whiny, so bitter, that I couldn’t get out of the conversation fast enough! Largely because I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. Turns out, he moved out less than a month ago…and I’m guessing those feelings are just too raw. Rather than intellectualize any of these dates, I’m simply trusting my feelings. And my feelings were that I just wanted to get as far away from him as possible!
Date three: First meeting with a pleasant, thoughtful gentleman. Met him on a lovely patio for lunch. He was a good conversationalist, nice, honest about his height (about as tall as I am — which, by itself, is not a deal-breaker). His voice and speech patterns reminded me of someone, someone I like — and I finally realized that it’s my former brother-in-law, a mensch and a nebbish. Again, no magic. Alas, as we got up to leave the cafe, I noticed that the khaki walking / cargo shorts he was wearing had an elastic waistband. Enough said. I have no way to appropriately articulate to a man what might be wrong with such a choice; the gulf between our worlds is simply too wide.
Date four: Second date with a digital guy, sushi. I hate that he most certainly weighs less than I do (yes, insecurity rears its ugly head). He is slightly taller than I am, dresses stylishly, has some Jim Carrey-like goofy looks, dresses well and told me stories that highlight the importance he places on parenting his daughter. He also confessed to having gone shoe shopping with a gay friend — which clearly means that he has both tolerance and patience. Ultimately, he has lived on his own for nearly a year, but his divorce proceedings drag on…I get the feeling he’s not going to put the moves on me anytime soon, because he has a pretty conservative view of right and wrong. So I like that he’s in no hurry, and I like that we spent a great percentage of our time together laughing. Am I crazy about him? Not yet. Do I want to take him home and tear off his clothes? Not yet. But this one I will likely see again.

In the end, my weekend delivered a few revelations and one clear winner…who is not in a place to develop a deep and committed relationship. And maybe, given my ambivalence, that’s just fine for now.