In Jeans or a Dress: Misadventures in Online Dating

Jan. 2, 2004: An embarrassment of Riches

2005-06-29T18:23:00.000-05:00

I'm sitting here shivering and drenched in sweat. My nylon running pants stick to my legs, and my cotton t-shirt clings to my back. Unfortunately, though, I haven't worked out since yesterday afternoon. This condensation is the result of merely walking around the neighborhood running errands. True, it's 50 degrees outside, but I fear it's more symptomatic of becoming sick. Now that I'm back home, I don't feel so feverish (more chilled, actually, and achy, which probably aren't much better), but I can tell a bad cold is settling in, and the timing is bad—tonight is my second date with Joe.

He called me yesterday around 4:30pm. He hadn't replied to the email I sent him on New Year's Eve, so I of course was resigning myself to being blown off again. But, no—he's picking me up tonight, and we're going to an Italian restaurant in Lakeview, Lucca's. I looked it up online, and the reader reviews are glowing, using words like intimate, charming, and even romantic. I tried to check out the Zagat's rating because Joe said he used the Zagat's guide to find it, but you need a subscription to access the review. I wanted to see if Zagat's called it romantic—it'd be nice if Joe looked for that quality when selecting a place. We didn't make plans for after dinner. Possibly drinks back at my place?

I don't want to cancel, so I've popped some Day-Quil and will take some more as dinner approaches—with a couple drinks, I could be an especially fun, or noodle-like, date. I wouldn't want to cancel and seem like I was canceling as passive-aggressive revenge for his earlier cancellation, or, more accurately, postponement, plus I really want to see him. I'm dying to find out if I get that same feeling I had the first time we met. And it's been too long—more than three weeks.

On the other hand, I'm seeing the impending illness as a wonderful excuse to cancel with Alan for tomorrow night. I sent him an email on New Year's Eve, too—just some fluff about his alma mater's bowl game—and he hasn't responded. Maybe he's realizing he deserves a little more excitement on his date's part. If I do cancel, I hope I have the guts to do it by phone, not email.

Rich in EH sent his must-haves and can't-stands. His must-haves include "a partner who is committed to marriage, home, and family.” As I've said before, I read that as wanting kids. I like his short-answer questions, though; he didn't use any off the provided list. Instead, he asked about my New Year's and if I made any resolutions; which CDs are in my player right now; and which vacation has been the most meaningful. The first two are easy enough—didn't do much on NY Eve and watched "Sex and the City" and "Sopranos" DVDs on the Day. My CD player still has Christmas CDs, but I listed the other CDs piled around it—Petty, Phantom, Lovett, Sinatra, Cat Stevens. I'm so eclectic. I think he’s under the impression I'm more into music than I really am, but whatever—no need to bother clearing that up at this point. The travel question is more difficult. I wrote of my trip to the Pacific Northwest, and also said I'd like to return to Kauai with a date. Europe demands a return trip in the next few years—I haven't been there since law school in Italy in '92.

I looked back at the basic profile on Rich and realize that music is important to him, so maybe I do need to clear up that misunderstanding. He's playing a guitar (apparently to his dog) in one photo and writes that he loves playing the guitar and writing and singing his own lyrics. Uh, oh—another serenader? Looking back at my own profile, though, I see no mention of music, so I don't know where he got the impression I'm a big music fan. In my short-answer questions for Rich, I asked just that, admitted music isn't a big part of my life, and wondered if that'd be a problem. I also asked if the kid thing would be a deal-breaker and, taking a more gentle tack, asked about his favorite memories from 2003.
***
Rich responded within an hour or two, and I have to say his answers are well done. As far as the music issue, he pointed to my karaoke photo (I forgot it was posted on EH) but went on to say he doesn't think couples need to share every interest. He added: "You must be cool if you have a Sinatra CD." If he only knew I purchased it in tandem with an Alanis Morrissette CD. On the kid issue, he said he realized when he turned 40 that he might not have kids and "that is OK." He elaborated, echoing some of my thoughts on the topic:

"Even if I met the right person today it would likely be years before we decided to have children and I can think of many reasons not to have children at the age of 43 or 44. I would love to travel more, retire early, and have more time with my partner so it is not a deal-breaker for me. In fact it may be a small relief that having children would not be required … "

Gotta admire his honesty, and that he's thought it out, in terms of age and consequences. And early retirement always sounds good.

Finally, he lists several favorite memories for 2003, including a party with friends, adopting his dog, and traveling to San Francisco. "I wish I had asked you that question," he wrote. I agree it's a decent question, one that I'll have to remember for the future, if I continue on EH. My subscription ends Jan. 12, and it's pretty pricey, considering how little success it's brought me.

Anyway, Rich and I have moved to stage 4—open communication. I would initiate it, but I'm going to wait a bit. I don't feel inspired right now.

I'm already debating sending Alan a cancellation email today. If it goes well with Joe tonight, I won't want to endure another date with a guy who hasn't interested me at all in two meetings. If it goes poorly with Joe, I'll probably be bummed out and just want to mope. Maybe I'll be fired up to have a good time with another guy in a misguided attempt to spite him, but I doubt it.

Dec. 31, 2003: New Year reprieve

2005-06-27T09:50:00.000-05:00

EH sent me two new matches yesterday. Michael, 39 and from Streamwood, shut me down before I got a chance to look at his stats. The other, Rich from Arlington Heights, requested communication. He's 40 but looks older in his photos, with gray hair and goatee. He's a computer geek, but his passion apparently is writing and playing music. He also reads a lot, plays racquetball, and kayaks. One of the things he can't live without is ice cream, and he claims he's living proof that nice guys don't finish last. I like that—he seems positive and happy. Can't hurt to answer his questions, I guess.

Alan has replied to my latest email. He mentioned that the Cowboys play their first playoff game Saturday night, so we might need to watch that instead of a movie. Fine with me, though not exactly romantic. At least, we'll have something to talk about. I played his message in reply to my "sex email" for some of my friends last night. Several times, actually. I think it's fair to say they enjoyed it. Maggie was close to tears.

Ken41midway from Match wrote again, too. He thinks we could hit it off. I think not. And Yahoo had another repeat Icebreaker—leinonmysoul, the 29-year-old East Indian. He mentions in his profile that he doesn't like "mean people." How unusual.

No word from Joe since Saturday. Maybe I can drop a quick "happy new year" email and see if he responds with details on Friday night? He sent me a "happy holidays" message on Christmas Eve, so this wouldn't be too out-of-the-blue. Plus, if he's backing out, I'd rather know sooner than later.

Haven't heard from Tim, the Cub fan who was coming back to town Sunday, or Chris from EH. So it goes. I wouldn't have time for them this week, anyway.

Predictably, MM is trying to woo me back, offering another month for $4.95. I could get another three months for $19.95; it was $29.85 for my first three months. I may re-up. God knows my friends (and even one of their boyfriends) got some yucks from BMALE's email, and who am I to deprive them of the possibility of more laughs? I don't know about three whole months, but I guess I may as well go for it if it's only $20. A small investment for a lifetime of happiness. Ri-ight.
***
Rich responded—he wants two kids. I sent him my must-haves and can't stands, including I must have someone who share my desire not to have children.

So, it's New Year's Eve. I was invited to two parties and had reluctantly planned to go to the closer event, where I'd know more people. I suspect it'll be couple-heavy, though, and I've never been much for all the New Year's Eve hoopla (perhaps because I never have anyone to kiss at the stroke of midnight?), so I'm blowing it off. Instead, I'm heading up to Winnetka, where my friend and her husband and baby from New Jersey are housesitting. We'll order in, drink some high balls, and maybe play some board games. Nice and low key, with minimal ruminating about the year that has passed and what the new year will hold.

Dec. 29, 2003: An indecent proposal

2005-06-24T09:53:00.000-05:00

Well, Alan and I are on for Saturday night. In his confirmation email, he remarked on the day's football games and said that he'd pick up a movie and come over. No mention of sex or "clicking," thankfully.

Today is my last day as a MM subscriber, and I have three emails, including another from NEVERTELL, the unhappily married guy looking for a long-term affair. He uses the same subject line—"u"—he must think it endearing.

One of the others is from an NRA member in Detroit, one of those guys who describes himself as having "very good looks" but neglects to put his money where his mouth is by posting a photo. Where the profile asks "what brought you here," he chose the response "Scouting around for people to do things with." In Chicago? At least in his email, he writes he wished he lived closer. Whatever.

FUNGUY862 writes that my profile and photos caught his eye. I think his email is boilerplate because that's the extent to which he references my profile. He writes that he likes running and biking, so I'll earn extra points if I like either activity. If he read my profile, he'd know I run—I mention it at least once, possibly twice. Plus, he's 5'9"-5'10".

Good Lord! Another MM email just came in, this one totally enticing. I mean, filthy. It's captioned with "Can you imagine?" How fitting that it arrives on my last day on MM:

"I would love to meet you at the Fairmont hotel downtown. I would insist that you cum [such clever wordplay] with no panties on and a long coat with nothing on underneath. You would meet me at the sports bar right next to the lobby. Without any conversation you would simply walk up to me and say 'are you ready'? At this point we would proceed up to the top floor and walk around to the stairway and walk up two addition flights. There we would see a dark room, which is the broiler room. During this adventure I haven’t said one word to you. You are simply following me knowing at some point we will be sexually intertwined. I turn to you and unbutton your long coat only to see those nice ass tits beaming in my face. I caution myself to take my time because looking at this body…………..poetry has just been put in motion so I must handle your body like a precious jewel. I start by pulling you towards me and touching your lips with my fingers while you close your eyes and slowing suck as if you are auditioning for the anticipated moment of sucking my cock. My lips touch yours and we are both highly impressed with the tongue technique and the soft lips. My hands go through your hair and I start kissing your neck slowing turning you around. Your head goes back and you reach back and grab my long hard cock and start to stroke it. At this point I ask you 'would you like to go to a room'? You reply with 'yes'!

Once in the room, I have already set up candles. The room is dark and I tell you to lie on the bed face down. I start perusing your body with me tongue and nibbling on back of your neck again for a few minutes before moving down your spine until I reach the crack of your ass. I then tell you to slightly lift your ass to the sky maintaining your chest on the bed………………….your knees slightly move upward and your ass is pointing to the sky. I then whisper to you 'spread your legs and place both hands on your ass checks and open your ass'. When you accommodate my wishes, you are telling me 'please be gentle, and make me feel extremely good'! I typically have strawberry ice cream, ice or whip cream ready to go into battle. I start by moving my tongue from the top of your ass crack down to the point of entrance of your ass. Making your ass extremely wet while simultaneously placing a small hidden vibrator on your clit. So while you are getting your ass licked with ice cream or whip cream, you are also about to reach orgasm. I start to rotate from licking your ass to licking your clit. At this point we are in the 69 position.

Would you like me to continue?

I can send a picture upon request!"

Where to start? At least he has good taste in hotels, but strawberry ice cream? C'mon (or should I say "Cum on"?)—go with chocolate or maybe fudge ripple. I'm also intrigued by the broiler room—can I get a steak as part of this fantasy? Am I the only one thinking this guy works on the Fairmont maintenance staff? According to his profile, BMALE296 is Democrat who works out and reads. He's also usually early—I bet you are, BMALE. On a first date, he'd expect a handshake; he doesn't specify what body part the hand would shake. Oh, and he has a Matchmarker. So perfect, and yet …

Over in Yahoo, nine Icebreakers beg for my attention—ugh. Younghardcutie is neither young nor cute. Intelligent_kind_athletic is 5'8" and doesn't drink. He hopes to visit "Stone Hedge" someday. Boddhisatvabanker is 44-year-old, 5'10" attorney with a shaved head. Comehavefunoutside is 43, lives far away, looks dorky. He's seeking for a partner for outside activities like fishing, hunting, skiing, and the zoo. I'm not much for activities that involve being cold.

Misterjones80 is 30 and posted a bare-bones profile. Bumpedintome is a 44-year-old suburbanite with white hair who specifies "NO PLUS SIZES." I find that so rude. How 'bout just deleting emails from women who don't interest you? Elainepanterwhateverhighandtight (that's mouthful) is 5'10", black, and gives up little in his profile. Rusty204gamer is 54 and lives with his parents. Need I go on? I don't think so, but I can't resist adding that his profile says "Laughter is important to me, as well as wargaming …"

The latest Icebreaker comes from jrow96, whose profile has actually caught my eye in the past. He "smokes often," though, lives in Schaumburg, and uses "LOL" repeatedly in his profile. And, let's not forget that he didn't even email me, but only sent a lame-ass Icebreaker. Not that it needs repeating, but I view those guys with disfavor right off the bat. Feeling as I do about Icebreakers, I don't know why I even check them in Yahoo. I don't monitor the ones in Match very often.

Speaking of Match, my profile has now notched almost 3,500 visits. Brutal—thousands have seen and thousands have turned away.

Dec. 28, 2003: Creating confusion

2005-06-23T07:13:00.000-05:00

Alan replied to my "I'm a psycho" email yesterday:

"Barb,
I must admit, although I am not freaked out, I am completely confused. So in order to keep this EM short, I will summarize:
1- Bottom Line-I would like to get together with you once more in some shape or fashion to see if we can make it 'click'.
2- I agree that the first few dates almost always suck, and the last time was uncomfortable too.
3- I too would like to get together in a relaxing manner such as you suggested in your last EM. I am available every night this week except Monday, and Friday.

Now, as I mentioned I am a bit confused, so I suggest it is your move. So you can either call/EM me with date time and directions to your place. If for some reason you rethink this again and decide you do not want to contact me again (which I hope you do), good luck and I hope you have a good year as well.

Alan"

How in the world is he still so interested? Surely, he can't be that hard up. Well, scheduling-wise, this week is bad for our fateful third attempt at a "click." I'm booked every night except New Year's Day, and I might not feel top-notch that day. I do think I kind of owe him another try, though, after this bizarre exchange, even though I'm still doubtful about his intelligence—what's so confusing, Alan? The part about reading a book? OK—that's just bitchy of me. Anyway, I'll email him and suggest Saturday night, which would make next weekend a double-date package, assuming no one backs out on me. I'm tense just thinking about it.

Dec. 27, 2003: Regrets, I've had a few

2005-06-22T09:15:00.000-05:00

What to do about Alan? Yesterday, I thought about emailing him and claiming I didn't make myself clear in the last email, that I never intended to imply I wanted sex. Now I think it's too late to put that snake back in the can. I know it sounds crazy, but maybe I'll be honest:

"Hi, Alan--Sorry I didn't return your call yesterday. I have to tell you, I'm pretty mortified and have been since I hit the Send button on that email. Listening to you recap it on my voicemail made me realize how absurd it was.

As you can probably tell, I'm not usually that forward, at least not this early on. I blame my moment of brazenness on a book I'm reading, the memoirs of a 66-year-old woman who placed an ad saying she wanted to have lots of sex with a man she liked before her 67th birthday. I guess her brutal honesty inspired a moment of temporary insanity in me. While I love the idea of a tryst with someone I barely know, I don't know that I'd actually be able to follow through.
I could, however, follow through on having that person over to my place to get to know each other in a more relaxed setting--say, with takeout and drinks. I think it's hard to get know someone on those early dinner and lunch dates--they just seem too artificial, you know? So maybe you'd be up for that some time.

Well, I'm going to work out and then I'm off for a day with my sister--lunch and a movie in Evanston. Hope I haven't freaked you out too much!"

That's not too bad. I'll give it some more thought while I run, but I'll probably send it.
***
Joe called while I was running. I must be interested in him because I actually stopped mid-run to answer the phone. We talked for 15 minutes or so, until my sister called on the other line. Good conversation, plenty of laughs, and I realized again that I was smiling the whole time. We spent some time discussing our Christmases with our respective families. I probably shouldn't have mentioned how I need to "find a husband" by next Christmas, if only to even out the grab bag situation. Despite that, Joe asked me out for Friday night, my first date of 2004. He claims his cold is lingering, though, so I don't want to get ahead of myself. You never know until the guy shows up, I've learned.

In the meantime, I'll send Alan my email. I'm not sure why I'm even bothering—I still don't have any real interest in him, beyond the fact that he's a living, breathing man who for some inexplicable reason is (or was) interested in me. Well, again, I'm not committing to anything.

Dec. 26, 2003: A bold step

2005-06-21T10:44:00.000-05:00

Well, I made it through the big day with my psyche intact. As predicted, spending the day in a crowd threw up a dam against my rushes of self-pity. Not that some moments and comments didn't arise that struck close to my hyper-sensitive, orange-level alert singleton sensibilities, such as when my sister explained that, because we'd eat at two tables, couples had to split up: "You can't eat with the same dinner partner you eat with every night." My television wasn't in attendance, but I'm sure the people at the other table would have found it the delightful dining companion I find it to be night after night.

After we sat down, my brother announced that he and his wife are expecting their fourth child next summer—how very Catholic. He's 44 and she's 40; he'll be 63 when the baby goes to college. So, Chuck is one of the guys I've railed against a few times—children at any age because, by gosh, he can! Not really, of course—they claimed the pregnancy was unplanned and I have no doubt that's the case, just from things Bridget has said in the past. Still, I bet he was happier about the turn of events than she.

It does throw off the new approach to niece and nephew gift giving we adopted this year. At my Scrooge-like suggestion, instead of all five of us (me, my brother and sister, and their spouses) each buying gifts for all of the nieces and nephews, who range in age from two to 19, we each drew a name and only bought a gift for that child. Five adults, five kids. With six kids expected next year, I really need to find a husband and fast, if only so things are even for gifting purposes next year.

Back home last night, lying in bed, my thoughts turned to Alan. I started entertaining the notion that maybe I could just sleep with him. I even began to mentally compose an email to him, along those lines. I pushed the absurd thoughts out of my head, though, realizing that he probably wouldn't even call again after our dull lunch. If he did, I didn't know if I could propose the sex idea over the phone. Foolish to even think about this, I told myself.

This morning, however, I found an email from Alan, sent yesterday. He said he had a good time at lunch, but it was too short—he'll call me this weekend to see if I want to get together again. His email is sitting in my mailbox as I type, teasing me with how easy it'd be to reply with a message like the following:

"Hi, Alan—Hope you had great holiday. As far as getting together again, I have to tell you that it doesn't seem to me like we're really clicking. To be perfectly honest, though, it occurs to me that I haven't slept with anyone since I broke my rib in July, and I'd really like to again before 2004. You seem like a nice guy and a happy person, so if you're up for seeing if we connect on this level, let me know and maybe we can get together this weekend. Have some drinks at my place and see what happens …"

Do I have the guts to send this? Why not? If he's turned off by my directness, I won't have to hear from him again, and it won't be a big loss (except, perhaps, to my self-esteem). If he's up for it (so to speak), well, could be interesting, to say the least. After enduring three months of this crap, don't I deserve a little fun?

On a different note, I think I'm going to close my Matchmaker account. I haven't met anyone through the service, and I constantly hear from undesirables, like NEVERTELL447, the 47-year-old married guy who wrote me yesterday (Christmas!). "Not-so-happily married" to a woman who's been ill for 10 years, he's looking to develop a long-term "wonderful affair." Thanks, but no. I'll make do with Yahoo, Match, and EH for now.

And someone new from Match wrote me this morning, KEN41MIDWAY. He writes only "r u 4 real" and includes his phone number and email address. He blames his lack of photo on not owning a scanner. He's a librarian who lives near Midway. His profile doesn't do anything for me, and I really do want to take a few days off, so I guess he's out of luck.

So what to do about Alan? When I let myself consider it last night, the sex idea seemed like a darn good one, but now I'm losing my nerve. I'm so much braver at night, alone in my bed. I think I'll work out for a while and then decide. If I don't send Alan my proposition this afternoon, I probably won't.
***
While riding my exercise bike, I read several chapters of a book called "A Round-Heeled Woman," by Jane Juska. At the age of 66, Juska placed an ad in The New York Review of Books, saying she'd like to have a lot of sex with a man she likes before she turns 67. The book speaks to me, especially as I consider propositioning Alan. Sadly, she's much more daring than I; yet, as she engages in these trysts, with disturbingly aged men, she doesn't describe much in the way of non-carnal satisfaction and she ends up hurt with some regularity. I'm more than halfway through the book, and, even when she scores the sex she seeks, she doesn't seem particularly happy. Beyond the actual encounters, I don't sense a lot of enjoyment or fulfillment from her exploits.

Of course, she writes upfront that she's more interested in sex than conversation or, presumably, regular companionship. "If you want to talk first, Trollope works for me," she concludes her ad. I don't think I could be that mercenary--I'm looking for more than just the physical pleasures of sex, unfortunately. I do envy Juska. As the book jacket puts it, "since her ad made it clear that she wasn't expecting just hand-holding, her dates zipped from first base to home plate in record time." That'd be nice. How sad that this AARP member is more able than I, a woman supposedly in her sexual prime, to move things along.

As fun as it is to fantasize about having a purely sexual interlude with Alan, who am I kidding? Considering my mental block on having sex with someone I find attractive but have just met (a block I mightily curse—I wouldn't want to be as slutty as Samantha, but Miranda wouldn't be so bad), I doubt I could sleep with someone I've gotten to know somewhat but aren't attracted to in the least. In two meetings, I haven't found anything about him that attracts me—his looks, his personality, etc. Not that they're unattractive—they just don't do anything for me. Even his apparent interest in me isn't doing it. And yet I'm curious how Alan would reply. If only I was attracted to something about him.

It can't hurt to at least send an email—it's not like I'm making a commitment and I have to start somewhere if I want to break down my mental blocks. I can change my mind at any time, and I don't even have to answer the door, should we get to the point that he comes over (essentially to service me). Right? To hell with it—I'm thinking too much. Cut and paste, and off the message goes. Now.

It's done—I sent the message above, with the addendum that, if he's not up for it, that's cool, too, and wishing him luck in the new year. How am I going to concentrate on my post-holiday sales shopping this afternoon? Yikes.
***
Fresh out of the shower, I crept back into my office to see if Alan had replied. Nope.

Had to check my Yahoo email account for something from a client and thought I might as well see if anything new had come in. At the same time, I was thinking about what I might write to Joe, if I were to follow up. While showering, still feeling emboldened from my email to Alan, I thought about writing him to suggest that wild weekend he mentions in his profile.

To my surprise, I had a message from Joe in Yahoo. Not much—just happy holidays and he's finally getting over his cold. He sent it on Christmas Eve, so I can go ahead and respond without seeming overeager. If he's anything like me (Lord, I hope not!), he wouldn't call again unless I showed my continued interest by responding to the email. I shall. Upbeat and no references to thinking he'd blown me off or the delay since I've last heard from him.

Oh, God—my phone just rang and, sure enough, it was Alan. I couldn't bring myself to answer, and I feel sick to my stomach as I sit here waiting for voicemail to kick in. Has he received my email? One way to find out.

OK—listening to his recap of my email makes me realize how ridiculous my proposal is, especially when he chuckles a little at the beginning. "You didn't feel we connected at all on the second date"—actually, Alan, on either date. He said he agreed about the lunch, though, and that he's not a fan of lunch dates in general. "But you would be interested in sex. Uh, I got nothing to lose in that one. So feel free to give me a call back. L-later." What have I done? I'm drowning in second thoughts, especially having heard from Joe, who I was attracted to. I'm not exactly sure what I was looking for in Alan's response, but I don't think I got it. He again came off as kind of dull-witted. "Hey, it's a no-lose proposition for me, right?" On the other hand, he is willing, so I've got that going for me, at least.

I'm calling Joe. Probably shouldn't, but don't want to wait. I'm emboldened, dammit. Got his machine, thank God. What I really need to do is dry my hair and drag my ass out the door.
***
As the night drags on without a call from Joe, I regret having called him. I rationalized my call by telling myself that, by doing so, I was taking action, instead of just sitting around, hoping he'd call. I ended up doing just that, though, and, by both replying to his email and calling, I probably came on too strong. I didn't mention getting together in the message, but I did in my email. Doh.
***
Jumped online before I went to bed, still suffering from would-be dater's dissonance over calling and writing Joe so quickly. I logged on to compare cell phone plans (another exciting Friday night—do I know how to live or what?), but of course checked email and saw Joe had written. He said that he's at his mom's house in Michigan and doesn't have my number but hopes to talk when he gets back today. That would explain why he emailed me initially thru Yahoo, instead of using my own address. So that's encouraging. Now I just need to keep myself on an even keel. I'm going to lunch and a movie with my sister this afternoon, which should keep me occupied. Not that I won't check my messages …

Dec. 25, 2003: Christmas break

2005-06-20T07:55:00.000-05:00

Just returned from Roberta's place, where I checked on her cat. She (Roberta, not the cat) is out in Vegas with her boyfriend, visiting his parents. Seeing all of Roberta's photos, etc. memorializing her relationship with Jim only made me feel worse, like what she has is unattainable for me.

I need to get over this. Self-pity is so unattractive, especially at Christmas and in someone who's led such a fortunate life, with so many blessings. And who's not even really alone—I'll be surrounded by family this afternoon, with an abundance of food and gifts, and I could have found company for last night, if I'd been so inclined.

I do, however, want to give myself the Christmas present of a week off from this mission. More than three months have passed since I began this, and it's taking a toll. It's hard to take a break, though, when I'm in the midst of things with a few guys. Tim, for instance, is allegedly calling early next week, when he returns from Florida. Chris from EH also has my number, although I've heard nothing from him since I asked if he has profile somewhere I could see. And Joe could even call (yeah, right). And, assuming Joe doesn't call, I want to email him and ask what gives, why the sudden change in course. I guess that could wait until the new year, while I go into neutral for a few days.

Well, I'm going to try to take some type of break. Maggie will be in town in a couple days, and there's plenty going on over the next week to keep me busy, culminating in my plans for New Year's Even with some friends. Honestly, though, I'm already thinking about skipping out on those. New Year's Eve is so couple-oriented, and I've never been a fan of the forced revelry. Of course, in the past, I've always had a party on New Year's Day to divert my energies to, and I don't think I will this year. We'll see. I don't have to make any decisions on that now. Now, I just have to get over my bad self and enjoy Christmas Day. Or at least the food. Seriously, though, I'm lucky in that I've always been easily distracted from demoralizing thoughts by the company of others, so I should be able to push all this foolishness from my mind this afternoon.

Dec. 24, 2003: A Christmas miracle?

2005-06-17T11:32:00.000-05:00

I expected to write a brief entry today, about how most people would probably think it sad and depressing to spend Christmas Eve alone, but I enjoy it. I rented a couple movies ("Home for the Holidays" and "Scrooge") yesterday, while the selection was still full, and plan on picking up a chicken tang pizza. But, lo and behold, I actually have a Christmas Eve lunch date, of all things.

Alan called me last night and filled me in on his shopping trip. He was quite excited about his new black shoes and camera phone, as well as a successful sales call he made Monday; he has had so much more personality and enthusiasm on the phone than in person so far. We're meeting for lunch at 12:30pm down in Lakeview. While I'm open to lunch rolling into a whole afternoon, and even to possibly inviting him to join me tonight, I'm not going to force it solely so I can say I shared Christmas Eve with a guy. If lunch goes the way dinner on Sunday did, I'd rather spend the evening alone, as planned. But, hey—maybe it'll be a Christmas miracle and a spark will fire up and tomorrow morning I'll be making him breakfast. I'm not counting on it, though.
***
No Christmas miracle. Alan isn't doing anything for me, unfortunately. By the time our sandwiches arrived at lunch, I knew I didn't want to spend the afternoon with him, although I think he was hoping I'd join him on a post-lunch trip to Linens 'n Things. Love L&T, but I didn't want to trudge through more of our conversational swamps.

I got to Pompeii at 12:30pm and sat down with a paper to wait for Alan. Three minutes later, I decided he wasn't coming. That's where I am right now—I immediately assume I'm being stood up instead of coming up more rational explanations like he got stuck in traffic. Or, as it turned out, was waiting for me in a sandwich shop across the street. He ambled in to Pompeii about 10 minutes later, or at least it seemed like ambling to me, when he walked in without apologizing for being late. Once we figured out the confusion, we moved into line to order. I made some chit chat, but he didn't really respond, I think because he was focusing on what to order. One thing at a time, I guess. Yeah—he doesn't strike me as all that bright, and his subsequent admission that that the only thing he really misses about living in Texas is stepping on hills of fire ants did nothing to change that assessment. Nor did his admission that he didn't know whether the wine I ordered Sunday night was white or red wine. I racked my brain, trying to remember if I'd ordered by brand, which would be out of character. "You mean chardonnay?" I asked. "Yeah," he replied without shame. "I'm pretty sure merlot is red, though," he added. He comes off as the frat boy that Google revealed him to be.

Just as at dinner the other night, I found conversing with Alan fraught with difficulty. We both had to repeat ourselves several times, which could really get annoying with time. He's certainly pleasant enough, and happy, but he's not particularly funny or smart or interesting. In fact, he might be kind of dorky. He was still talking about his damn new shoes, for God's sake. When we moved past that fascinating topic, we discussed even more scintillating things, like health insurance, taxes, and cell phone plans. He also mentioned that he was carrying an extra eight pounds or so, becoming distracted as he examined his torso to determine if the weight was noticeable. And he told a story about going to a Rangers game that made it clear he's a Bush fan ("President Bush," as he so formally and respectfully called him).

Other than Linens 'n Things, I can't think of any common interests we share, besides a general fondness for sports. Nothing comes to mind as far as activities we could do together, and he obviously doesn't comprehend a lot of my references. Like on Sunday night, I'm awash in ambivalence. And this time, it's dragging me down. Someone is interested in me and following up on our audition in the way I always hope for, but I have no interest in him. Ah, cruel irony. He's not unlikable or unattractive or anything, but I'm not feeling any stirring for him. If I did, I'd probably invite him over for dinner this weekend, but I can't imagine sustaining conversation with him for a whole evening. Yet, when we were parting ways, he again said he had a great time. I don't think he said anything about calling me, though, so that's good.

If he does, do I give him one more chance? I mean, after 10 minutes with him today, I knew I'd rather spend the afternoon and evening by myself, but if I truly want to find someone, should I give up so easily? Shouldn't I try harder? I wonder if I'm too comfortable hanging out by myself. If I didn't enjoy it, I'd probably give more guys more of a chance (not that they're exactly beating down my door). Of course, if I didn't enjoy it, I'd also be miserable much of the time because I do end up alone a lot. Lord knows the pleasure I derive from alone-time defies society's expectations.

How much of this whole quest is about society's expectations? Would I have begun this endeavor if I didn't feel like a freak for being alone and for being happy despite my dreaded single status? If people didn't look down on or at least pity the singleton, I don't know that I'd even be doing this. I'd be content to continue living my life as I have if it was regarded as perfectly normal. I'm not saying I'd vow to stay single forever—I'd hope (against hope) that someday I might be lucky enough to find someone, but I wouldn't feel any pressure or like I’m missing out on something so important and critical to true human fulfillment. If it happened, great; if not, so be it. I doubt I'd be taking these aggressive online measures that are so crushing my spirits.

What truly sucks is that I feel depressed right now. Having met eight guys over the past three months and finding myself no better off than when I started, this seems so hopeless. I know I'll spend next Christmas Eve alone again. I just hope I can enjoy it then because this dating thing is ruining it for me this year, making a once pleasant and happily anticipated tradition seem tragic and pitiable. I can honestly say this is the first time I remember feeling bummed out about being single at the holidays. I'm letting society's judgment usurp my own. It's like I'm surrendering—yes, I am single and alone at the holidays, so I am unhappy. Happy holidays, indeed.

Dec. 23, 2003: Affirmation, at last

2005-06-16T10:46:00.000-05:00

Well, doesn't it figure. I finally get a guy to show some real interest and initiative shortly after an audition—the instant affirmation I so crave—and it's someone I feel only lukewarm about. Yep—Alan just called, a little before noon, to see if I'd like to go down to Michigan Avenue to do some shopping. He left a voicemail saying he received my thank-you email yesterday and had a great time at dinner, too (not that I had said I had a great time—I basically just said thanks again and wished him luck on a sales call I knew he would be making). I laughed at his message when he said he probably wouldn't buy anything for anyone else while shopping today, saying "It's all about Alan." So far, he's definitely been better on the phone.

I don't want to head downtown today—I'm finished with my Christmas shopping, having done most of it online, and have some work to do, plus it's cold outside. And, I must admit, I've been looking forward to a no-workout, no-shower day. I do want to see him again, though, if only to see if there's any potential. Maybe I can suggest something for tomorrow? I better make up my mind quickly because the cleaning lady just arrived, so I need to head out for a few hours.

Called him and got his voicemail—kind of a relief, being the wimp I am. I did, however, suggest we could meet for lunch or something tomorrow. So we'll see where we go from here.

Dec. 22, 2003: A raw evening

2005-06-15T09:43:00.000-05:00

My dinner with Alan did indeed happen, but, compared with the charge I felt after my audition with Joe, it was a dud. Not bad, mind you, just blah. As James would put it, there was a decided lack of click, and I drove home in a cloud of ambivalence.

I arrived at the restaurant a couple minutes late, and it didn't look like it was open. Neither of us had visited the restaurant, located in a neighborhood where we'd each lived in the past, in years, and it easily could have shut down in the meantime. As I approached the entrance, I saw Alan down the block by the door, and called out, "I guess it's not open anymore, huh?"

I appraised him quickly as I walked up—jeans, untucked red and white checked flannel shirt over a colored t-shirt, and, as described, an almost bald head. I'd been hoping he'd have more of a buzz than a shaved head. So he wasn't my usual physical type. That's not to say his looks wouldn't grow on me. He wasn't unattractive by any means, and I'm sure plenty of women would have found him very good-looking immediately; I'd just need to get accustomed to the look, but I don't doubt that I could, especially with that body and smile.

Alan shook my hand when I reached him, and suggested we walk down the street to find another restaurant. We ended up at a new place I've never heard of, kind of Nuevo Mexican or maybe Cuban. Either way, a little too sophisticated for me, your basic enchiladas-and-burritos type. And it was probably a mistake to say, "I can't remember the last time I ate at a place I knew nothing about. I usually do a little online research in advance." Doesn't make me seem very spontaneous or easy-going, does it?

Finding a suitable dish on the menu challenged me—what kind of restaurant doesn't have a chicken dish? I decided to push the envelope and try a pork dish. When I eat out, I generally stick to poultry, cow, or a few select sea creatures as the source of my meal. Pig doesn't really do anything for me, unless it's cured, so I haven't eaten pork in years. But I figured, "How bad could it be? It's the other white meat, after all." That was a mistake.

The spicy stuffing distracted me at first, but the consistency of the pork reminded me of chewing on something only partially defrosted. Struck me as odd but I carried on bravely, with the dim light precluding me from noticing the startling salmon hue of the meat. Once I realized how undercooked it was, peering down at my plate like a student dissecting a frog with a fork and knife, I felt kind of sick, almost like—oh, I don't know—I'd been eating raw flesh. I didn't want to seem picky, though, so I tried to force down a few more bites, but I left a lot on my plate, still oinking in my mind. I remained so hungry I even resorted to eating the fried plantain that protruded from the swirl of potato, initially fooling me into thinking I'd scored some bacon, the good pig.

Conversation was a bit of an uphill struggle at times, perhaps in part because the restaurant was rather loud, and we didn't seem to be hearing each other all that clearly. I asked him to repeat himself repeatedly, and I could tell he misunderstood me several times, to the point that I eventually stopped clarifying. Although he told me at one point that I’m really funny, I felt like a good portion of my jokes fell flat with him—maybe he just couldn't hear them.

When we could hear each other, we talked about his various roommates since he's been in Chicago, his job, his username (certified pharmacology technician—cpht123), football. When I switched from sangria on the first round of drinks to chardonnay on the second, he immediately concluded I don't drink beer. He said it was unusual for a woman who likes sports not to drink beer. So we talked a little about why I don't really drink beer much. I guess it's a good thing I don't, or I'd be totally butch.

Basically, the evening was boring, which surprised me after our phone conversations. He opened up a little and talked more easily as time passed, but I wouldn't say we connected much. As we were parting ways after an hour and a half, standing about a yard from each other by my car, he said he'd had a great time and would definitely call me before the holidays. "Really?" I thought. "A great time? How?" Nonetheless, I agreed and said "Absolutely!" about getting together again. We hugged like two guys, right down to the back pats, and he walked back toward his car. Then, like an ass, I called out after him, "You mean the Christmas holidays, right?" I meant it as a joke and nothing more, but, in hindsight, boy, could that be misinterpreted. And it did seem like he didn't necessarily get my sense of humor, so God knows what he thought of that little addendum to the evening.

My audition with Alan puts a new little twist on my thank-you rule. He did pay, and I'd say my share of the bill was at least $30. If he hadn't picked up the check, I probably wouldn't email him again. Because he did, I feel like etiquette requires me to send a follow-up thank-you email. I wonder if he'll actually call, though.

See, here's the difference between me and, I think, a lot of guys. The conversation wasn't great and I couldn't be much more ambivalent about him, but I'd give him another chance if he asked. He could have been nervous or shy or just had an off-night, and he mentioned he was getting over a cold. From my way of thinking, you can't rule someone out so quickly, but maybe that's a sign of desperation on my part.

But I think he might already have found someone, at least temporarily. He mentioned seeing the latest Hugh Grant movie. "Well, I hope you saw that on a date and not on your own," I replied, and he seemed to indicate that it was on a date. Plus, when I went online to review his profile yesterday, the profile was unavailable. On the other hand, he admitted he'd almost canceled our dinner (because of a cold—who knew guys were such wimps?); if he'd met someone, wouldn't he have gone ahead and cancelled? Unless he figured he might as well give it a try, just to see if there was instant spark or something. Either way, why would he say he'd call me, specifically saying "before the holidays" if he had no interest? So annoying.

Regardless, it probably wasn't a good sign, anyway, that on the drive home I was thinking, "Maybe Joe will call tonight." He didn't, BTW. I don't know what the hell happened there. One day, he's calling me to get together again, saying he's looking in the Reader and coming off as eager. The next, he's slinking away with the lame excuse of a cold, and I don't hear from him since. Considering I had no contact with him between the call asking me out and the call canceling, I'm left rather bewildered. I'm just glad I'm not feeling the urge to email him. I'm done chasing these guys. For now, anyway.

Tim from Match wrote again last night. He asked about my weekend and told me about his. He noticed I'd updated my profile and even identified my karaoke photo as being taken at Marigold Bowl. I thought about telling him why I've made changes, but he doesn't need to know about the different reindeer games I play with my profile. And, of course, the guy's whose lengthy profile prompted me to go back to my old profile style has yet to reply to my email. Anyway, I responded to Tim and included my phone number. He's headed out of town on Wednesday but suggested meeting after he returns next Sunday.

Over in Yahoo, I have one new email, but it doesn't even invite a response:

"I hope this Christmas you will get the chance to feel like a child again and be aware of the spiritual message of this hollyday. And may your Christmas tree be packed with beauty, lights and presents and may The Santa be giving. Sorin"

Then he followed up with another email:

"I would love to send u a picture but first I need your mail addres.For a special lady my email is costelsorin@hotmail.com.Talk to u soon!Sorin"

I don't think so, Sorin. The guy doesn't even have a profile.

Three Icebreakers, too. Captainsanctuary is 46, 5'10", and lives with roommates. I'd think that would make it difficult to find sanctuary. Krez59 is 44, lives in Gurnee, and also lives with roommates. He describes himself as "more active than sedimentary." No one likes a rock, after all. The final Icebreaker, leinonmysoul, sounds like he might be worth pursuing, but he's only 29 (Matt soured me on that age), doesn't post a photo, and only sent an Icebreaker. And he wants kids.

One email in MM, from Dominic986. He's 5'9"-5'10", rarely drinks, and lives in Hobart, Indiana. He answers the short-answer questions by saying he doesn't subscribe to the service and giving his own email address. And his message was a bit incoherent:

"It's great that you have traveled this big ball inwhich we live. That's the only thing I regret, one day I'll learn as you did to cut this ball and chain which people describe as a job and see some of the world. HAVE FUN!"

That's it for now. I hope that's it for the week, or at least until Christmas. I think I've earned a break, and traffic should be slow this week. I'll probably have some downtime to shop but sending out new emails this close to the holidays would reek of loneliness and desperation.

Ewww! Taking a quick spin on Match, I came across tallfitfun4U's profile again. He's been active in the past 24 hours, so it doesn't look like he's responding to the email I sent yesterday. Just as well because he added a photo of himself in painter's jeans and a sleeveless t-shirt. I like that his primary photo is now of his dog, but the muscle T is hard to swallow. Ah, well—it's all moot now.

Dec. 21, 2003: Let's go to the phones ... or not

2005-06-14T10:53:00.000-05:00

Christopher responded to my short-answer questions. Turns out he doesn't necessarily want children—he's just not opposed to the idea. That doesn't exactly jibe with answering that two would be the ideal number of children but whatever. So now we're at the "open communication" stage, leaving me to send the first actual message. I can't say the process thus far has created any excitement about Christopher for me, but maybe the open communication will change that.

"Hi, Christopher--So we 'meet' at last. How have you enjoyed your eHarmony experience so far? I'm kind of undecided about it, myself. Parts of it seem like a good idea, but it also seems so impersonal and business-like. I find it hard to get a handle on what someone is really like or even just his interests, y'know?

Regardless, we definitely have some things in common. Have you had any good travels lately? I went to Kauai in November, which was unbelievably beautiful and had some great hiking. I usually like to take one major trip each year, with a few shorter getaways along the way. I spent some time in Lake Geneva, NJ, and Michigan this year, and also took in some pre-season and post-season Cubs games in Arizona and Atlanta.

I noticed you're in grad school--are you getting an MBA? Where are you going to school? I got my master's in journalism in June. Not that useful for Trivial Pursuit (one of my favorite games, too), but it should help me get more freelance gigs.

Well, I'd better get going--I never know how much to write in this phase. Hope you're having a good holiday season so far (with lots of chocolate), and thanks for your interest!

Barb"

While in EH, I noticed that Roger hasn't closed us out yet. What's the delay? I guess I could do it, but, on the off chance I hear from him again, it'd be an actual message and I’m curious to see what he would write, if he'd even refer to how drawn out he'd made the process.

Chris (as he signed his email, thank God—you know how I feel about guys who use their full names) responded with a pretty brief email:

"Barb,

I was to Kauai 3 times so far, Love it more each time I go

If your interested maybe we can talk over the phone. Its so much easier and I would be willing. Let me know I can give you my number or you can give me yours?

Chris"

I don't know why, but I find myself hesitant to go the phone with EH guys. It doesn't make much sense, considering how quickly I give my number to some guys on the other services. I think maybe it's because the EH process gives you so little feel for the guy. At least with the other services, a guy's profile offers a fairly clear idea of his interests and maybe even his background, while the voice of the introductory emails lets you glean some sense of his personality. You don't get that with EH. Or maybe it's just my shallowness—I haven't found either of the guys with whom I've reached this stage in EH particularly attractive (plus, Chris' email wasn't very articulate). Still, I paid $100 for EH and haven't talked to anyone yet, so I should send Chris my number. Who knows what could happen? I think I'll ask him if he has a profile posted on any other sites, too, so I can gather some more intelligence on him.

On a more immediate note, I'm meeting Alan for dinner in a few hours. We made the plans a few days ago, and some hints of skepticism started creeping in today. I thought I remembered him saying that he would call to confirm, but I hadn't heard from him since our initial phone conversation. I was resigning myself today to the fact that he might not show up and already debating whether I'd pick up some takeout pizza at the restaurant before heading home. I'm pleased to report, though, that Alan called about 10 minutes ago, and we're allegedly still on. I'm afraid past experiences leave me no choice but to insert the "allegedly"—you just never know what will actually happen. At the same time, though, the door-slammed-in-my-face outcomes of some earlier "dates" make me appreciate the courtesy of the confirmation call. Looks like I've stumbled across a mature and considerate one. Here's hoping the call is a harbinger of good things to come.

Dec. 20, 2003: The kid issue, again

2005-06-13T09:04:00.000-05:00

When you wake up Saturday morning and find 58 emails in your Inbox, you assume it's all spam, especially when you didn't sign off the night before until 6pm. And yet, I've received communication from Christopher. I fully expected that I wouldn't hear from him again after he scanned my must-haves and can't-stands and was reminded about my stance on children. But, no—he's moved us to the next level. So now I have to question him about this in the short-answer question section:

"Hi, Christopher—I was surprised to hear from you again, considering you want to have children, while I don't. Is that not a deal-breaker for you?"

In his short-answer questions to me, he asks what I'm most proud of in my life, to describe an interest I hope my partner would share, and what I'm looking for in a partner. Do I have the energy to respond right now? I suppose. I'm not going to pour too much into this, what with the kid issue looming. On the other hand, it would be nice to actually meet someone through EH, even if it doesn't work out in the end. Well, I can cut and paste answers to the questions he posed, so I've found a happy medium for this dilemma.

It's the weekend, so naturally I find myself revising my Match profile again. I'm taking a radical approach this time—I'm being completely forthright, not trying to hide anything. If a guy doesn't like me, to hell with him. Great attitude, ay?

Dec. 19, 2003: Drinks vs. dinner

2005-06-10T09:59:00.000-05:00

Alan called last night, and we did talk. I guess I inadvertently gave him my work line number because that's the phone that rang around 6:40pm. I called him back a couple hours later, when I realized "Scrubs" was a rerun. I left a voicemail, and he then called about ten minutes later.

We talked for about 45 minutes, longer than I expected, and it went fairly well. His voice is very friendly and gregarious, and he's a bit of fast talker. No surprise that he's in sales and enjoys schmoozing. We talked about our work and educational backgrounds, travel, skiing, etc. We both have marketing degrees, but he wishes he had studied something technical or related to engineering and mentioned the possibility of returning to school. We both lived in the Wrigleyville area before buying condos, and he's in the West Loop now. Eventually, he asked me if I'd like to go out, and we settled on dinner at the Red Tomato on Sunday evening.

At first, he talked about getting together Sunday afternoon for lunch, but I bust out with the admission that I want to watch the Bears game. I don't know what I was thinking. "Wow, you really do like sports," he said. I told him I usually downplay that side of myself because guys tend to find it strange, but he disagreed and said he thought it was great. He's a Cowboys fan, and Bobby Knight coaches his college's basketball team, so he's somewhat of a fan of that team, too. He claimed to also support Chicago teams. Anyway, he offered to pick me up, but I turned him down—it'd be totally out of the way for him. And if dinner goes horribly, why protract the evening?

I think I'm changing my tune about the drinks vs. dinner debate. Dinner has more structure to it—a start, a middle, and an end that follows a predictable pace. Dinner comes to a natural end; it's not up to someone to draw the evening to a close, as it is with drinks. You don't have to deal with the uncertainty that arises each time the possibility of ordering another round nears.

Elsewhere, Christopher in EH answered my five questions. Like me, he said he thinks chemistry can be generated over the long term with someone you really like. But, unlike me, he thinks two kids would be ideal. Goddammit—why do these guys keep doing this? I'm starting to think they don't read my introductory profile thoroughly. His other answers were fine, but that's irrelevant if he wants kids. Because all it requires is clicking a button, I sent him my must-haves and can't-stands anyway, which includes "I must have someone who shares my desire not to have children." Nice not knowing you, Chris.

Tim responded to my email with the Bartman photo. He had already seen it—not a surprise, the way these things circulate—but found it hilarious, so he has a sense of humor. Like Alan, he hasn't heard of David Sedaris' Santaland Diaries, which I'm going to see tonight, but that's okay. He proposed getting together some time next week, before Christmas. I have my annual grab bag party with the TV night gals on Monday night, so that leaves only Tuesday and Wednesday, which is Christmas Eve. We'll see if it works out.

In MM, Geoff wrote that he won't dwell on mistaking me for someone else, and that I still sound fabulous. "If you'd like to chat, let me know." He signs off with an emoticon. He gives me the creeps, so I'm dropping this exchange, if you could call it that.

Dec. 18, 2003: Norwegians, trysexuals, and (cuddle)bears

2005-06-09T09:24:00.000-05:00

Well, back on the hamster wheel today. I have an email from Tim, sent late last night. He sent his personal email address and asked if I'd like to meet for a beer or coffee soon. Sure—let's get the one-and-out out of the way. I'll try to be more positive in my response. I think I'll forward him a photo someone sent me of the infamous interfering Cub fan hiding in Saddam's spider hole.

EH sent another match—Christopher, 39, from Chicago Ridge— and he's already requested communication. He's 6'4", a senior information consultant, and looks pleasant in his photo. A few extra pounds, as Match would say, but that's not a problem. He likes Trivial Pursuit (which I love) and to learn new things and is currently in grad school. He can't live without family, friends, playing, learning, and chocolate. My kind of guy. I bet he wants kids, though. When a guy mentions family several times, particularly nieces and nephews, that tells me something.

I answered his five questions. He asked about chemistry, jealousy levels, verbal intimacy skills, and my ideas about adventure and a romantic time. I sent him my standard five questions, including the all-important "If you were to marry, how many children would be ideal?"
***
Two new emails in Yahoo this afternoon. Steve_norway2000 is indeed Norwegian—my second foreign guy in as many days (this one can't spell "good"; he uses "god" instead, which makes for some amusingly unintended wordplay). He assures me he spends half his time in Chicago and is moving here in 12 months. Don't do it for me, Steve. He's 47, with three kids, the oldest aged 20. As for the rest of his message, I don't think I could do it justice, so let me quote:

"Technically I am married but on the way to a divorce. Why you might ask? Well have been married for over 25 years, a very happy marriage, but we have grown apart, regretfully. I know that it is now time part.

I am a very romantically man, I like courting, I like to spoil a woman that likes the effort. I want to be in a relationship where a man is a man and a woman is a woman. I want to seduce and to be seduced. I want to serve and to be served. I want to spoil and to be spoiled. I want to have intelligent discussions about life in general and pleasing in particular. I want to enrich and to be enriched. I want to be equal, yet above and below at the same time. I want to feel small and big at the same time.

I believe that a relationship requires constant work and a big portion of forgiveness. I believe that a partners reasonability is to support, cheer and don’t ask questions like why, just acceptance. I think that a god partner is a god listener.

I believe that romance and love is created between brains. I believe sex is a very important part of a relationship, but not, by far, the only part. I believe by satisfying ones partner one egoistically reaches the highest levels of pleasures. I am a trysexual, I try almost everything at least ones, and it is only through experience ones knows.

The best ingredients for a god life are romance, humor, talks and understanding. A financial secure situation helps; crying in a Jaguar is easier than crying on a bus.

I am 6´3”, 220 lbs (too much of the god life), blue eyes, blonde (wish I had some more hair).
If you have the same views in life and about life, please write and tell me more about your dreams in life, I want to know more.
Best hugs
Steve"

A trysexual? That's a new one. Could that have anything to do with the end of your marriage, perhaps? Or was that because of your wife's failure to just accept, instead of asking why? I'm going to pass on this rare opportunity to have intelligent discussions about pleasing. I'd rather be pleased than talk about it, intelligently or any other way.

The other Yahoo email is from edatriverealm. He's 44 and lives way out in Mokena. With roommates. He wrote only:

"I admire what you did, took guts. Admire people who take calculated risks. Ed"

A man of few words, Ed is.

Over in MM, BEATLEBOY836 asks if I'm singing karaoke in my photo, and goes on to write:

"I'm going to be getting my fill of that crap this Winter: I'm going to Singapore for three months, where kareoke is the national pastime!"

That's a shame. I think we would have had a beautiful future, despite the fact that he's 46-50, 5'9"-5'10", drinks daily, and writes, no joke, that he speaks the language of love. I think his username is based on his resemblance to a bloated Paul McCartney, with the heavily moussed hair of an '80s pop singer.

BIGBRAD339 comes with a Matchmarker and four stars on the Matchmeter. His email, which he sent twice, wasn't very impressive, though:

"I liked your profile and I thought I would say hi. I like tall women and you certainly are that. It is really hard to find someone so tall who is also attractive. Well if your interested, let me know.
Brad"

He doesn't post a photo, and nothing in his profile grabs me. Delete.

I still have the email from Geoff in my MM mailbox. He doesn't have a photo, but I was thinking about writing anyway. He comes off as potentially negative in his profile, though. Oh, well—can't hurt to drop a quick line. He didn't exactly give me much to work with in his two-sentence email. I think I'll ask if he has a photo available.

Alan from Match has returned from his business trip and wrote that he'll call me tonight. Right now, I'm not really in the mood for that, but we'll see. He may not even call, so no use fretting over it now.
***
Geoff responded to my email but ignored my request for a photo. He also thinks he "sort of" knows me, saying that we emailed a few years back. He's wrong, though—I'd remember the name Geoff, plus he said I was working for Ameritech at the time. Nope. He wants to move to chatting already, but I don't like his lack of a response to my photo inquiry. I'm just going to reply that he's mistaking me for someone else and leave it at that.

CUDDLEBEAR sends me a new MM email, beginning with "You probably wish you weren't so tall … It seems like every woman no matter how attractive will find something about her body she doesn't like." Sweeping generalizations are such a turnon, CUDDLEBEAR. He goes on to say he wouldn't normally be interested in someone my age who's never been married, but I've obviously committed myself to my education and career. Thanks for the dispensation. That means a lot, especially from a twice-divorced house painter. He also describes himself as very good looking, which contradicts his Larry Bird lookalike photo (his other four photos are from his childhood), claims to be well endowed, says he speaks "pillow talk," and would opt for a bionic tongue as his superpower. Yuck.

Dec. 17, 2003: Sisyphus strikes again

2005-06-08T10:48:00.000-05:00

I think the holiday lull I've been expecting finally has taken hold. The only action this morning is three Yahoo Icebreakers. One came from a 47-year-old in Northwest Indiana who's looking for an "Extreamly tall woman," as in 6'4" or taller. He, however, is only 5'11". Good luck, fella.

Another came from athleticdancingmachine. The "dancing machine" moniker is turnoff enough, plus he's 44, conservative, and, like the guy looking for the tall dominatrix, doesn't post a photo. The final Icebreaker is from a Harley guy in Rockford who doesn't drink, is heavily tattooed, and wears a big mustache that spreads across his lower face like an oil spill.

I haven't seen much in MM for a while, but I have two emails waiting today. FORTNER385 earns a Matchmarker, so he's tall enough, etc., and he lives within five miles. He's liberal, 6'1"-6'2", has a master's, and is usually on time. He's originally from Europe—maybe that's why he's a dancing machine. That might also explain the sprinkling of misspellings. I'm a little hesitant because he seems too, I don't know, soft? He wrote in his email that "travel is very good for the soul; expanding horizons and providing a foundation of a world view that furthers growth." He asked where I'd like to travel next and where he can see some of my writing. Is that a sly way to track down my last name? From a guy who identifies himself only as "A"? I'll think about it a bit but probably write later.

XNEWX668, or Ced'ric, lives in Barrington and has piercings and/or tattoos. He's also black, which brings up a topic I've kind of dodged. I have to admit that I don't consider black guys. I don't have a problem with them; it's just that I think biracial relationships are very difficult. I have a hard enough time in relationships, so I'm not interested in going after something with inherent challenges right from the start. I'm not sure what that makes me—lazy, wimpy, stupid, or all of the above.

Another email arrived in MM while I was browsing the other two. But the thickly bearded BLUEEYEZZZ has written me in the past. What's going on in MM? Another email just came in, while I was reminding myself why I didn't pursue BLUEEYEZZZ. GEOFF898 is 41-45 and doesn't post a photo, but his profile sounds good and he has a Matchmarker and three stars. He writes that he's 6'1", but he checked 5'11"-6'0". He runs, bikes, and plays golf, and likes theatre, movies, wine, and food. He didn't write much in his email:

"You certainly sound like someone worth knowing. If you'd have an interest in chatting let me know."

I might just do that.
***
Sigh. Today was my monthly lunch with the college gals. I checked my voicemail on the way home and was pleased when I recognized Joe's phone number on the little prelude to the message. Unfortunately, he was calling to cancel our date for tomorrow night, saying he's come down with a bad cold. A cold? A cold so debilitating that he already knows he'll be out of commission tomorrow night? It's so sad that I can't just take his words at face value, but I've been burned too many times. I find myself thinking, "Well, at least he called and gave me plenty of notice," but that shouldn't be a big deal. That should be a given. He closed by saying, "Let's definitely keep in touch, and we'll get together sometime. Talk to you soon, I hope."

How to respond? I could be an adult and call him back. You know—wish him a quick recovery, let him know I'm not angry and hope we can get together some other time. Of course, I'm more inclined to send an email, expressing the same sentiments.

I called him, and I think that will be the last I hear of him. He sounded in fine spirits, not at all sick. We only spoke for a minute or two; I said I just wanted to touch base and wish him a quick recovery. He repeated the "let's definitely stay in touch" line but didn't propose any potential dates for rescheduling. So, different guy, same old shit.

Why does this keep happening to me? Why is every audition a one-and-out? And what makes the few guys who actually remain interested after meeting me come to their senses as that second date nears? I don't know which is worse—hearing nothing after an audition or being led to believe there's another meeting on the horizon, only to have it snatched away. Is it any wonder I work so hard not to be excited or to look forward to second dates? I fight optimism in dating matters because I fear having my hopes dashed. That's no way to live. And yet, every time I let even a drop of hope seep in, I end up feeling like Sisyphus, pushing the rock to the top of the hill again and again, only to have it roll back down. I've asked it before and I know I'll ask it again—when will I learn?

And I really, really wish I could stop myself from thinking too far ahead. Even with Joe, while I was telling myself, "Wait and see, wait and see if Thursday even happens," in the back of my mind I was thinking, "If it goes well Thursday, maybe we can get together again on Saturday." Twice in three days? Get a grip. I think I've unconsciously been keeping my Saturday night free, too. Argh. I'm equally disgusted by the creeping realization that, come January, when my dance card is as blank as Jessica Simpson, I'll probably have the urge to reach out to James because he's the only guy who's shown any interest.

God, I feel so deflated right now, like an old balloon caught in the high branches of a tree. Yep--shriveled up and going nowhere, that's me. And how delightful that tomorrow marks three months that I've been at this futile quest. I should make up a progress report, but that would really depress me. Not exactly the emotion I want to wrap myself up in a week before Christmas.

Dec. 16, 2003: Joe to the World

2005-06-07T10:22:00.000-05:00

Cool—I got my "perfect world" wish last night—Joe called while I was out. I came home around 10pm and found a voicemail from Joe. He said he was calling to see how my weekend was, chat, and see what my schedule is like later this week. I like the implication there. I called him back but no answer, so I left a friendly, upbeat message, along with my daytime number. I continue to really like his voice, and I'm letting myself feel moderately excited about going out with him again. Careful, though—you never know who might be the next Matt.

Alan and Tim both replied to my emails of yesterday. Alan grew up in Texas and has no family in Chicago—I always like that. He wrote that he's headed out of town today but would like to give me a call when he returns. I'll send him my number. Tim explained how he ended up in the Twin Cities for 12 years (closest city to his college) and filled me in on some of his non-baseball interests. He also asked about mine, and what I do for a living. Easy enough to respond.

Good grief—I've now had over 3,000 hits on my Match profile, according to the counter. What's the problem, fellas? What is it that makes you move on to the next profile, with nary a word to me?

EH found me another match—can I really say that when I've yet to even talk with one of these guys?—a 6'1" trader from Chicago. He's 45, though, with no photos, and he didn't respond to a lot of the questions.

Two new Icebreakers in Yahoo. The first guy is a biker (as in Harley, not Trek) and writes "TATTOOS A PLUS BUT NOT A NECESSITY." Well, that's a relief. I noticed that he took advantage of the Yahoo feature where you can post some "conversations starters," such as "do you have any piercings or tattoos?," which he asks. I find it kind of ironic that someone who sends a canned Icebreaker would include conversation starters.

The second guy sounds all right—lots of travel and outdoor activities, starting his own business, likes literature and movies. But he's 5'10", lives in a far west suburb, wants kids, and writes in his profile that "to get me to watch sports would require leather straps and those Clockwork Orange eyelid things." Probably wouldn't work out.
***
Yea! Joe just called on my work line. He wants to get together this week, so we settled on Thursday night. He's scanning the Reader and said he'd get back to me with more info. How very date-y. I'm not sure whether he's looking for a good restaurant or a show or what, but I'm fairly psyched. It's cool that he called me this morning, instead of waiting until tonight, and that he's putting some effort into this—I'm usually the one who does that. I'll probably grow somewhat nervous when it gets closer—I mean, it's kind of make-or-break as to whether anything will follow—but I'm hoping I can hold off that apprehension for a day or two.

Emode sent me four members who match my criteria. The first one is Ray. Grrr.

Dec. 15, 2003: All things to all guys

2005-06-06T09:07:00.000-05:00

Emails from Alan and Tim were waiting for me this morning. Alan answered my questions about his most recent travels—skiing in Utah and Puerto Vallarta. He lives in a condo in the West Loop and works from home, in industrial sales. He also wrote about running and wanting to see "The Lion King" before it leaves town—probably trying to show he appreciates both the arts and sports. A nice thought, but, as I mentioned in my reply, I'm not a big fan of musicals. He asked about my "agenda for fun," and I gave a typically broad response:

"So--my agenda for fun? I kind of live for the warmer months, when I can run, golf, go to ball games, play tennis, etc. Of course, I was injured in July this year, so a lot of those things were knocked off track. But I also like to go to plays (preferably non-musicals, I have to admit), movies, restaurants, the occasional bar. Staying in works, too, either cooking or ordering in, watching some movies--especially in the winter! I can be pretty easily amused."

That's me—all things to all guys.

Tim wrote about growing up as a Brewers fan in northern Wisconsin. He's also a Packer fan. His email was basically all-sports content. Not a problem, I guess, for now. I replied with a little football talk (preferring the Packers to the Vikings), and asked him how he came to live in Minneapolis and what he does for fun when it isn't baseball season.

I received a Match email this afternoon from carlspakler. He's home sick with his dogs, as he put it. Good to see he's using his time productively. I looked at his profile, and it doesn't do anything for me. I'm wary of guys who post photos of their dogs. Not them with their dogs, mind you—just the dogs themselves. And he wants two kids (aren't the dogs enough, buddy?).

I'm heading downtown in a few minutes to meet Joel for dinner before we take in a live taping of an NPR show (yes—we're geeks). In a perfect world, I'll come home to find a message from Joe. It won't be long before I start to think I'm not actually going to hear from him again.

Dec. 14, 2003: Details, details

2005-06-03T08:26:00.000-05:00

I have an email from a Match fella this morning, cpht123 (Alan). His profile snippet and email look good—38, 6'0", lives in the city, active lifestyle, goal-oriented—but I've never seen him in any of my searches, so something must be off, "criteria-wise." I'm going to guess he wants kids. Nope—he checks "not sure." Maybe he's just new. He's conservative, with very short salt and pepper hair; his headline reads "Smooth as my head!" Does that mean it's shaved? Well, I'll write him back this afternoon. It's always nice when the guy makes the first email move, especially when he's a viable candidate. Geez, "viable candidate"—so romantic.

Both of the emails I received this weekend referred to how active I seem to be. So should I revise my Match profile to downplay that aspect of myself? I think it's possible prospects find that overwhelming—maybe they don't want to be that active. On the one hand, I am indeed active, so downplaying it would be misleading, and why start something with someone based on false representations? I'm unlikely to suddenly become inactive to accommodate a guy's idea of the kind of woman he wants. If a guy wouldn't be interested in an active woman, downplaying my activity level early on will only prove detrimental to both of us eventually. On the other hand, I lead a fairly active lifestyle now, without an active partner, so there's no reason I couldn't maintain an active lifestyle apart from a boyfriend. God knows I'm not looking for a running partner. I guess, ideally, I'd like someone with the same activity level, but it's not a deal-breaker.

OK—I'll tackle the issue from a different angle this time around. Instead of changing the "About Me" or some of the sections describing my interests, I'm adding to "About My Match": "We don't need to have identical interests--I'm open to just about any kind of pastime, from arts to cooking to reading to sports, and I like to keep my interests constantly expanding." Flexible, aren't I? Who could say no? Besides the 2,800 or so (in Match alone!) who already have, that is.

Dec. 13, 2003: Tinkering

2005-06-02T08:34:00.000-05:00

Did a little toying around with my MM profile today—revealed my income and upped my appearance from "I look like anyone else walking down the street" to "Above average looks." Maybe I'll turn up in more searches now—searches conducted by superficial people overly concerned with money and looks. I also changed my political inclination from the "Liberal—we need some changes" option to "Liberal on social issues, conservative on fiscal issues." Not entirely accurate but perhaps a little less radical-sounding. And I decided to leave the question about the annoying personal habits of others unanswered.
***
Got a response from heebs1, the Cubs fan who sounds like he might be controlling (see, I don't fear that quality because I'm uncontrollable). Tim moved here from Minnesota 3.5 years ago with his girlfriend—they've since broken up. Loves Chicago, and baseball is his passion. He says I seem like a "very athletic type person." Hmmm—time to edit the ole Match profile again? He did describe my spring training and post-season baseball travels as "very cool," though. I'll respond tomorrow, but I noticed some things when looking at his profile again. He's Mormon, for instance. I'm not quite sure what the implications of that are, but they concern me, nonetheless. Of course, bigamy would take some of the pressure off of me, I guess. Also, he's divorced, so he's had two very serious relationships (the wife and the girlfriend he moved with) that didn't last—why? I don't have high hopes for this guy, but I might as well go through the motions. My judgment is far from sterling.

Dec. 12, 2003: Mentors and mullets

2005-06-01T08:40:00.000-05:00

Over in MM, I have an email from BOOKLOCK256. He's on the short side, at 5'9"-5'10", but calls himself a "recovering lawyer," who quit cold turkey to pursue freelance writing, and boasts of a 1,000+ book library. In-ter-esting. Ah—the rest of his profile reveals that he drinks "like a fish," is usually late, and says he's "the spitting image of TV's Ray Romano." He's a self-described procrastinator, lives with roommates, and wants kids. And then he writes: "I'm pretty sure that my pathetic golf game, iffy driving skills, and the couple inches in height I'd be spotting you wouldn't make for a great date." In other words, he's only looking for some career transition advice. "I'd be happy to buy a few drinks for advice," he adds. Sorry, friend—it's not mentor.com.

EH sent a new match—Mike is 33, 6'2", lives in the western suburbs, and has a son. He wears a sombrero in one of his photos but at least he has photos. He mentions the son several times but also writes "while my son is very important to me, I only see him two weekends a month. I feel this leaves plenty of time to pursue other interests and meet new people." Nice how he's managed to fit his son in around his other interests. Now that's what I call fatherhood. I'm going to leave him be.

Three Yahoo Icebreakers. Chivalryliveshere has his two daughters in his photo—nice, but a turnoff. Suretopleaseyou is sure to be too short—5'9". Sircelticknight smokes, lives almost an hour away, wears a tank top in one photo, and uses a blurry, Photoshop border effect on another. He might be the proud owner of some plugs, too. Yes—I'm a bitch. But the guy couldn't even drop me a note, so I don't owe him any consideration. At least that's how I look at it.

Mike replied to my thank-you note with a pink slip—just a "you're welcome" and "made it out of Green Bay alive." Of course, my thank-you didn't refer to meeting up again, either. So we're both ambivalent, apparently.

Other than that, there's not much going on. I've tackled most of my Christmas shopping, so now I'll turn to my other shopping. It almost seems foolish—even if I get a bite, will anyone really be able to meet before the holidays? If not, can I keep interest going over the holidays with someone? Well, I'll take one or two more shopping outings but go on hiatus around the 19th until 2004.

Over in Match, I have quite a few winks, but none with any merit, whether because of age, location, or just the fact they couldn't write. Match tells me that I've been browsed (sounds ticklish, doesn't it?) 2,867 times. Wow—that's a whole lot of guys who didn't like what they saw in my profile. Well, Match came up with about 230 guys who fit my criteria, so someone should stand out. Besides Pot-Smoking Mike, who of course pops up on the first page.

Hah! This guy is 6'8" (there is such a thing as too tall) and has a long mullet, but his text is great:

"Chicks dig me because I rarely wear underwear. Romance is my middle name, and enchanted evenings in the tub, with me shaving your legs and you shaving my back are a favorite of mine. I hate my job as a hot dog vendor, so it would be cool if you had some cash for us to enjoy. I often find myself spending weekends searching for that missing back-issue of Captain Kryptonite, or donning my Spock ears and heading off to the local trek convention. 'Live long and prosper.'

I'm looking for a hottie who enjoys the finer things in life - Pop-tarts, Silly-putty, The Captain and Tenile. I tend to be very attracted to well-defined knees. I have enough flab for both of us, so you should be skinny. Please describe yourself in detail if you want a response ..."

One guy in Match held some promise, as a Cub fan who loves the lakeshore, exercising, eating out, and theater. At the same time, he writes, "I do like my independence and do like to go out with my friends without you." Not a problem. But then he writes:

"A person that loves & likes me for who I am. You will be a person that likes doing the things that I like doing. No photo, no response. You are an attractive, fun, beautiful person that is very independent but at the same time totally into being with me."

His tone is horribly abrasive, and he sounds a bit controlling, if not needy. And yet, I'm considering writing because I think I fit a lot of his criteria:

"You like to go out to eat, go to movies, go to a ballgame on occasion, go out and have a drink every once in a while and just have fun being with me. You also like to take long walks on the lakefront holding hands. You love my company and being with me, but I am not your only source of entertainment. You also go out with your friends without me. You are also looking to get married within the next couple of years."

But reading on, I see he actually lives across from Wrigley Field, with roommates. Isn't he a little old for that, at 38? May as well write—it's not like I'm going to marry the guy. I probably won't even get a reply, so no need to bother with such minutiae. In fact, I'm going balls-out, even revealing that I went to more than 40 Cubs games this year, including playoffs and spring training. That should freak him out.

I ended up reaching out to three Match guys. I wasn't very forgiving as far as location but made concessions for guys with kids and roommates. That's something, right? I'll widen my search in 2004, but I'm also hoping the new year will prompt some new people to enroll. I'm seeing a lot of familiar faces in the profiles.

Dec. 11, 2003: Holiday lull?

2005-05-31T07:44:00.000-05:00

Yeah! It's only 8:45am, and I just received an email from Joe. He captioned it "Hey! Hey!" (in response to my caption of "Hey!") and wrote:

"Barb,I had a good time as well. It was refreshing to meet someone like you. I'll give you a call and see if we can set something up for next week.
Joe"

Being me, I'm of course wondering what "someone like you" means, but I'm pushing my focus away from that term and over to "refreshing." At the same time, I can't let myself get carried away over "promises" about calling and setting something up for next week, lest the lessons from Barry go ignored. It'd be great to see him again, though—I felt a charge running through me after the other night, and it's been quite a while. Cautiously optimistic.

My week has been hectic, with visits to a friend in the hospital, a client lunch, and, oh yeah, work. I need to squeeze in some shopping, both figuratively (on the dating sites) and literally (Christmas is only two weeks away!). I can't imagine this is a fertile time for starting anything online, as everyone enters holiday crunch time. Who has time to meet strangers? Or let me change that—who desirable has time to meet strangers?

And yet, I have three emails waiting in MM. One came from Alabama, and the other from a woman in Phoenix. Turns out she's promoting another site, www.seaoflove.com. Please, Amy—I'm busy enough with MM, Match, Yahoo, and EH. Thanks for thinking of me, though.

Hah! I opened the Alabama email for the hell of it, and it's one of those Nigerian scams. Barrister Williams Okukedi seeks my assistance (and my bank account) to access $8 million in proceeds, which he will of course split evenly with me. Probably makes more sense to try this scam in these sites than just making random email assaults.

Dec. 10, 2003: Etiquette matters

2005-05-27T08:18:00.000-05:00

OK, confession time—I just sent Mike an email. Not because I'm trying to force anything there; I just don't want to be rude, and it would be rude not to thank him after he picked up the check. My message was brief and didn't even refer to getting together again:

"Hi, Mike--Just wanted to drop a quick note and thank you for Saturday evening. I'm usually much more prompt about these things, but it's been a crazy week.

Hope you managed to have some fun in Green Bay!

Barb"

***

No response from Mike. No surprise.

I also should 'fess up to firing off an email to Tim last night, after I returned from my audition with Joe. I captioned it "Thanks" and wrote:

"Dinner last night was great. Oh, wait--you never called.

Just so you know, meeting someone online doesn't excuse you from common courtesy. If you change your mind about getting together with someone, you owe it to them to let them know, even if you lie about why. There's noexcuse for leaving someone hanging."

I felt good about sending it last night, with a few glasses of wine coursing through my veins, and I feel good about it today, with nothing but coffee, diet Coke, and water sloshing about in me.

Dec. 9, 2003: Sparks?

2005-05-26T08:11:00.000-05:00

Joe called last night—a nice surprise. I was sitting on my couch, with my head draped back over a cushion, thinking about how my current prospects were dwindling. I was considering (and dreading) logging on my computer at 10pm to do a little shopping. The phone rang around 8:45pm, and Caller ID showed it was Joe. We chatted for 20 or 25 minutes, laughing a lot. Nothing too heavy, but fun and easy. I realized I was smiling throughout the conversation, and something made me think that he was doing the same on the other end of the line. I hoped he would suggest an audition; I wasn't going to go there myself. So I was gratified when he asked if I'd like to meet for a drink this week. We settled on tonight, at Charlie's (where else? I'm having such great luck there, after all). Busy day today, but I'm looking forward to it, if only to ask him what he means by "wild weekend."
***
Wow! I had a great audition with Joe, possibly the best I've ever had. What's sad is that past experiences warn me not to get the least bit excited—I've learned the hard way that people say all kinds of things they don't mean and that people can just disappear. Nonetheless, I'm going to let myself enjoy this, if only for the night.

We agreed to meet at 7pm, but I was a little late because I couldn't find my umbrella. He was standing at the bar, pint glass full in front of him. He wore thin-wale brown cords with a braided belt and a dark button-down shirt. I was running behind while getting ready, so I just grabbed jeans and a loose red sweater. I wasn't sure if he would sport a goatee or not because his profile has photos with and without—he did have the goatee, peppered with some strands lighter (OK—grayer) than his brown hair. His face had character, almost craggy, but not that extreme—more character than age. He has a great smile and we just talked and talked, with very few pauses. I really like his voice, which sounded familiar but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

"I have to ask," I finally said. "You're voice sounds so familiar. Do you ever hear that?"

"Uh, yeah," he responded, looking sheepish. He hesitated and then said, "Is it Dennis Miller?"

And, yes, it was indeed Dennis Miller. But, as I told him, his voice has a happy flavor, as opposed to Miller's cynical edge. It fits his attitude, which seems positive for the most part, although, like me, he's not a big fan of winter. He also admitted to sometimes getting down around Christmas but said that living in the city apparently had cured that ailment over the past few years.

We talked about all kinds of things, including the standard background info. What was great, though, was we how exchanged that info. Instead of the standard Q&A, it came out by telling stories. He told me about burning down his family garage as a kid; I told him about my neighbor's mother catching us making smoking screens with matches and how I wrote my mother a letter of apology that closely echoed the Act of Contrition. I told him about unwittingly digging up a neighbor’s dead cat; he told me about digging up the ashes of the previous owner's wife in his yard. Like our phone calls, we laughed a lot. Unlike our phone calls, I found myself looking him in the eye quite a bit. He admitted to being non-political, although he was reading a Howard Dean flier when I arrived, but, hey—I can mold that. He talked about sending his 13-year-old to boarding school for high school—gotta like that.

We stayed at the bar until after 9pm, and, history be damned, I was feeling pretty confident. Maybe that was because he asked me about my weekend plans at one point. Our plans this weekend conflict, but when we were going our separate ways out on Clark Street, he said it was great to meet me and "Let's definitely get together again."

"Absolutely!" I responded.

"Not this weekend, I guess, but soon," he said. I couldn't agree more, Joe.

Then he went in for the handshake, I went in for the hug, and we ended up (at long last!), kissing. Nothing major, but I'll take what I can get. I hesitate to add this, but I practically skipped home. A fantastic mood blanketed me and still hasn't let go. Could that have been spark I felt? Would I even recognize it?

I did ask Joe about the whole "wild weekend" thing. He said he'd never actually had one, but he figured he should make himself appear open to anything in his profile. He also claimed to have thrown his profile up a couple years ago and never checked it again. Ri-i-ght.

Again, I'm probably making myself much too vulnerable here, but I do believe I'll hear from him. And he paid for our drinks, so I will definitely email a thank-you. We actually talked a bit about how rude people can be online, with dropped communications and outright lies. I said that I was raised with a real emphasis on common courtesy, and it always surprises me when others are so careless with their treatment of people. He agreed wholeheartedly, and it does seem that we were raised with similar values. He mentioned that, for example, he's always on time, that it's just considerate. Yes, it is, Joe! I couldn't agree more! So, anyway, I want to believe that he wouldn't mislead me.

I know it may be short-lived, but I'm going to bed tonight feeling good.

Dec. 8, 2003: Refresher course needed

2005-05-25T09:04:00.000-05:00

It'd be so easy to email Mike today, with references to the Bears/Packers game and, of course, thanking him for the drinks on Saturday night, but I won't. If he's interested, he knows how to contact me. I think I'll take the same approach with Joe. I expressed my interest in meeting; he can follow up if he feels the same way.

Actually, though, last night I gave some thought to Joe's profile. He wrote that he's looking for anything from a good phone call to a wild weekend to a long-term relationship. While I'm ultimately seeking the LTR (am I really? and, if so, am I looking of my own volition?), a wild weekend sounds awfully good. I could use that, so I'm considering proposing it to him. If he contacts me, that is—I do want to wait and see if he reaches out. I feel like I need a refresher course in how to be physical with someone (I wonder if Discovery Center offers any courses on that), and this could do the trick.

I don't hesitate to be the aggressor with someone with whom I'm already in a relationship, but I'm downright wimpy about it with someone who's merely a date. I've demonstrated time and time again that I can read a guy's level of interest in me about as well I read Braille. How devastating would it be to misread a guy's interest, make a move, and be shot down? No thanks.
***
Tim never called about dinner tonight. I don't especially care—I'm ambivalent about meeting him and have been all along, and I'm happy to spend the night at home. The rudeness continues to amaze me, though. Do people think that meeting via the Internet means expectations of manners and decency are discarded? I suspect the lack of civility perpetuates itself, too—"it's been done to me, so I'll do it to others."

I do have three more emails from over the weekend. From Match, imafreespirit writes to point out that we have similar interests. And are both tall. He's 27, though, and lives in Charleston, Illinois, a berg I don't know. He also wants two kids.

Traveltoomuch (Curtis) wrote again in Yahoo. Not much to it—just some travel talk and mentioning that he's currently working too many hours to check the Web site often. Uh, why sign up then? Anyway, I replied with some travel talk of my own, then tried to steer the conversation into a more personal vein, asking where he had relocated from, why, and how he likes Chicago. I predict a dragged-out, superficial exchange and no eventual meeting.

I won't suggest meeting, though. I'm shying away from the early meetings for a while. If you haven't emailed a bit or spoken on the phone, it makes it too difficult to find good topics of conversation at an audition. The audition becomes an interview—where are you from, where did you go to school, how many siblings, etc. And that leads to boredom, which isn't likely to produce a strong desire to meet again, let alone that elusive spark. Better to get the background information out of the way before you even meet.

The other email in Yahoo came from owingsruleo. He's a 5'9" flight attendant, with what looks like a large dirt stain under his bottom lip. He asks what I'm looking for in a man, despite the fact I spell it out pretty explicitly in my profile. Not that it matters—I'm keeping a wide berth of metrosexuals for a while.

Two Yahoo Icebreakers. One is from a conservative 45-year-old suburbanite who doesn't drink and looks to be about two-thirds of my weight. The other guy is 5'9", 43, and wearing a wife-beater shirt in his photo (below his goatee). He lives with roommates and signs off his profile with "Chow!" Not a bad idea. Think I'll start dinner.