Nov. 4, 2003: Feeling ballsy

So Tim has asked my last name and who I hung out with at Marquette. At this point in my life, almost 15 years after graduation, I'm wary of being associated with the person I was while an undergraduate (read: fat, drunk, obnoxious). I did earn good grades, but only my close friends knew that aspect of me. And my housemates (most of whom remain close friends) and I discovered years later that our house was not-so-affectionately known to some as the Drunk House.

They say you can't outrun your past, but you sure can try to evade it. I won't go into detail in my reply (less is more, less is more—must drill that into my head), and I'll just hope he and his friends don't recognize my name. In the meantime, I sent several of my college friends an emergency email to see if any of them remember him. I also looked him up in my yearbook, but he didn't look familiar even though his name is nagging at me.

I just noticed he wrote that he preferred Indiana University, where he received his MBA, to Marquette, so I'm thinking our paths might not have crossed—i.e., he was a geek. I kind of suspected that already, from his pictures and his living in Mt. Prospect. But who knows? We could still hit it off.

Over in MM, Jeff has turned me off some more. I asked him if he ever came into the city, and he said "not much, to be frank … have no reason … trying to find that reason." All right, all right—rewriting it here makes me realize it's not really offensive. He's being kind of flirty and maybe even letting me know he'd be willing to commute in for the right girl. Still, how 'bout throwing out an idea for a meeting place? I'm being a little snarky in my response:

"So I guess we should meet halfway. I think there's a nice bar in Terminal C at O'Hare. Seriously, how does Evanston work for you?"

Let's just get on with this, already.

Ed has read my email but hasn't replied. He hasn't deleted it either, so maybe there's still hope. In hindsight, my reply to his email was pretty blah and wouldn't necessarily inspire me to reply. If I was him, that is. I think I've established how low my own standards are—I'll reply with the slightest bit of encouragement.

As if to illustrate, in a fit of neediness, I dropped Barry a quick two-liner: "How are things going? Great day for a run." Just want to let him know I'm still willing. This will definitely be my last move on that front (I'm so principled!). I'm curious to see if I'll get the pink slip or no reply at all.

Another Emode Icebreaker, from playfulinteresting. What's with these guys? Why can't they just write an email, the big wusses? He has kids who live at home sometimes, went to Notre Dame, and doesn't drink. And he lives in Orland Park.
***
I received a new email in Yahoo, from secretserenader. Poor guy is under the impression that, like him, I'm a professional singer. I guess that's understandable—the closest the Yahoo occupation categories come to my job is Artistic/Musical/Writer (what a ridiculous grouping), and I posted a karaoke photo in my profile. According to his profile, Dylan loves children, dolphins, and whales and to sing to his love interest. Knowing me, I wouldn't be able to keep myself from laughing if serenaded—I'm guessing that wouldn't be appreciated. In his photo, he's sitting and playing a guitar, and his interests include dancing and religion/spirituality. He also gives extra points for a cute voice, not something I've ever been accused of having. It’s clear I'm not this guy's type, and he's only 5'10”, but he does live in the city and like to watch sports, so what the hell. I'll give a metrosexual a try. And he does give double brownie points for women who exercise (mmm … brownies). I don't want to get into a dragged-out email exchange, though, because I know he won't be interested in me after we meet. Shouldn't be a problem—he's one of those guys who proposes talking right off the bat.

Alluding to his profile text about how his match will be someone who likes strolling by the lake on sultry summer nights, I added what, for me, is a flirty P.S.: "P.S. I love sultry nights, especially by the water. Maybe with a bottle of wine?" Risqué, aren't I?

I've also supplied Tim with my phone number. He said he can't call tonight because he has a dental appointment—are we talking root canal or what? How long can a dental appointment take? Should I be concerned about his oral hygiene?

No replies from Jeff, Ed, or Barry. Time to let Barry go. If it was meant to be, blah, blah, blah.

Dylan replied awfully quickly. He sings commercials and loves performing anywhere (really?, thinks my 12-year-old-boy-level mind). Music feeds his soul—I am so not for this guy. But he loves my thought about the "wine/vino" and wants to talk. This is moving much faster than normal for me, but I'm feeling reckless.

Mark on MM also responded. My last email asked him how he was doing with the dating (hey, he asked first). I'd just left it at "Well, I'm still on the site." He replied: "Ditto, I think I’m just too much man." Now that opens up a world of possibilities for my response. "I'm sure you do." "You and every other guy." "I'll be the judge of that." He did, of course, append his signature emoticon after the word "man," so I shouldn't be too hard on him (but he can be hard on me—stop me, I'm on a roll). I'm considering trying to move this to the next level by saying something about me being the judge of that if we ever meet, or something along those lines. Too forward? I'm just so tired of this relentless and pointless back-and-forth.

I guess I'm feeling ballsy right now. I'll dash off hasty and ill-conceived responses to both Dylan and Mark. Mark gets "Let me be the judge of that … if we ever meet …" Dylan gets my phone number, which I've been handing out like fliers for an all-you-can-eat lunch buffet. My mother wouldn't be pleased.