Trial & Error

I’m sure you’ve been on pins and needles wondering how my date went. Right?
Yeah, I didn’t think so, but I’m gonna tell you anyway.

That particular date, and the few that followed have gone extremely well. We met for drinks last Friday, talked non-stop, had dinner and drinks that Sunday, he cooked me a HelloFresh dinner on Wednesday, we went to the Greek Festival on Friday and we played with Baby goats at a local farm and tasted mead on Sunday. He’s very pleasant company… and extremely interesting. However, I’m just not that into him. 😦

Side Note: I read that book a long time ago when “ghosting” first became the norm. Looking back, I can’t believe I thought I needed a book to help me crack the guy code. If they were any more transparent, they’d be windows.

Looking back on the lists I gave my matchmaker (the list of desirable qualities and the list of deal-breakers) I can totally understand why this guy was selected. He’s done some stuff. He’s lived. And he’s a RockStar at his very interesting and technical job (Drone Scientist). At 39, he’s been married, lived all over the country, has 3 kids, was a “Boylesque” (think male burlesque) dancer, a roller derby racer (evidently they let guys do that too in some places), does Crossfit and is excited about his upcoming participation in the Spartan Race. This seems to only be the tip of the iceberg. When I told her I wanted to meet someone “Interesting,” she hit the nail on the head.

Problem is, I’m starting to wonder how much of this crazy narrative is actually true.

Of course there’s more. I only find myself physically attracted to him after I’ve had a few cocktails. This is probably the biggest issue. And although I owe him nothing, I feel awful about it. While he sends me texts saying “I think you are amazing” I’m on the other end, full of doubt and fear.

Last night I told him he was sweet, because he is. This was his response, “Sweet is good… but what about sexy?” I froze. For a second I thought about what I found sexy… what people I found sexy and why. It occurred to me that when a guy referred to me as sexy, he clearly wanted to have sex with me. I was so far away from that thought, I had no idea how to respond.

I had a panic attack the day we’d planned to go to the Greek Festival. I felt suffocated and couldn’t slow my heartbeat no matter how I tried. But I let him pick me up regardless, because he was so excited to go.

I noticed that after I got in the car, when I said anything, he would either try to finish my sentences or talk over me. It was like he was so nervous around me that he needed Ritalin. It was exhausting and I’d already had a tiring week. I tried to explain what was going on in my head, but all that came out was, “Sometimes, you’re a bit much.” I immediately beat myself up internally for being such a bitch.

He sends me a thank you text after every date and wants to spend more time with me than I have. It isn’t long after one date ends that he starts asking for another. Then the panic sets in. It struck me that if I was as enthusiastic about him as he was about me, this wouldn’t be problematic.

It hasn’t been long, but after the first weekend, I began to question myself. I think it’s important when you’re uncomfortable in any situation to ask yourself why… and what you can do about it.

That first weekend, he texted me NON-STOP… so much so that everything I did was interrupted, if not spoiled by the constant messaging. I started to feel the walls closing in. By that Monday, I didn’t want to be around people at all. I told him “the constant texting is problematic.” He slowed it to a crawl. It was a few days before I felt comforable again.

I couldn’t sleep last night and today I’m having another panic attack. I’m finally hearing what my body is telling me. It always sucks when you know you’re going to hurt someone, but it’s always better to rip off the band-aid quickly and just be honest. Even though the message is unpleasant, the receiver will respect you more for being forthcoming.

In this process I asked myself the toughest question of all, “Is it me?” “Is there something wrong with me?” I’m sure the list is long, but most likely a lot shorter than most. I’m okay with that. I’m okay with me, and I think that’s the crux of it. I don’t need a guy. If I meet someone who complements or adds to my life, THAT‘s when I’ll know it’s right. It’s not selfish to do what you need to do for yourself.

So I will.

(to be continued)

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To Match or Not to Match

Tonight is the night I’ll be meeting my very first matchmaker match. Since I’ve had fantastic luck plucking every clingy, needy, insecure man child out from under his current rock and ZERO finding what I actually need, I’m curious to see what my matchmaker has in store. A wise person once told me that you know exactly what your friends think of you judging by the people they choose to set you up with. I think there’s a reason those closest to me have never attempted a set-up. We’re all of the same mindset. We’re not fans of failure and we’ve seen each other through way too many heartbreaks to trust that anyone will be good enough.

To the contrary, I’ve had MANY acquaintances attempt to set me up with criminals, braggarts, misogynists, damaged co-dependents, and assorted ambition-less man-children.

Funny side-note: I did have one person actually try to set me up with Edwin McCain. Although I’ve never met him, I’m sure he’s quite lovely. At the time, I just didn’t trust my acquaintance to have my best interests at heart and thought perhaps she was lying. 

And because I’m cursed, it is Seattle-raining and chilly, which negates all previous wardrobe choices. I had a makeup job this morning at 6AM for Fox Business, so I’m abnormally sleep-deprived and jacked up on Starbucks. I’m also wearing FIVE different eye creams layered on top of each other. Even my eye cream is wearing eye cream. The guest this morning was male, so I had my male makeup kit with me. (It’s MUCH smaller than the female one.) The skin care products in this kit are standouts from the Kiehl’s Men’s line. (I keep a de-puffer and caffeinated eye cream handy because men usually don’t know the difference AND NEED IT.) I’m surprised to say that my fifth eye cream layer is the MEN’s eye cream and there’s a good chance it works better than the rest. (Yes, Kiehl’s, I’d like my commission check now please.)

As usual, work is starting to pick up, but I got in early and pony-tailed since I’m waiting to date-shower when I leave work early. (Yes, a date shower is a thing.) I’ll lather up with a few layers of anti-frizz, a light spritz of smell-good and be out the door before I know it.

Fingers-crossed that he’s not Jabba the Hutt and Catfishing us all.

 

I Am Ian Soap

In my house I have a few things that serve as I.Q. tests.

What do I mean by this?
Allow me to explain.

For instance, as long as I’ve owned my house, I’ve had a functioning doorbell. When someone coming to my house knocks without bothering to ring the bell, it occurs to me that our decision processes are not necessarily aligned.

If I’m faced with the decision of whether to ring or to knock, I always RING FIRST because the bell is there for a reason. If no one answers for an extended period of time and I don’t hear movement within the house (as if they’re attempting to get to the door because they heard the bell) I can then assume it’s broken and knock. But if it’s there, I have enough sense to ring it.

Said doorbell has been replaced a time or two, but I ended up replacing it most recently with a brightly lit doorbell so that there could be no question that it was in working order.

Don’t think I’m not taking note when a suitor doesn’t bother to ring it the first time he appears at my door.

Also the first time someone takes me out… I take note if they can’t find my house. I’m on a main road. It’s parallel to 2 other main roads. There’s a house number over my door and a house number on my mailbox. It’s 2017. Everyone has a cell phone or a GPS. If you’re too stupid to figure this out without calling me, you might be too stupid to date me.

I also noticed that ever since I purchased the fancy automatic hand soap dispenser, quite a few people went straight for the dish soap when washing their hands in my kitchen. Even though I placed the dispenser in what I’d thought was a conspicuous place, they STILL ALWAYS went straight for the dish soap. I found myself having to direct everyone… even multiple times. I was beginning to feel like a flight attendant.

So… I did what every annoying Type A girl does… I made signs… moreover labels (because who doesn’t own a fancy label maker these days?) and adhered them to the offending soaps. It’s been a few months since and the labels have worn off somewhat. Now the hand soap appears to have named itself. Meet Ian… Ian Soap.

I’m not sure exactly how that happened so strategically, but it made me laugh. (Who am I kidding… it makes me laugh every time I look at it.) And hopefully, after this batch of hand soap is done (and since that specific type of dispenser refill has become obsolete/too difficult to come by in normal shopping runs) I’m going to replace it with a dispenser that looks more like an actual hand soap dispenser. (Fingers crossed that the rest of the world will share my opinion on this.)

I’ll have to keep you posted to see if this alleviates the issue so that I don’t have to keep annoying my guests with signage. 🙂

I’ve mentioned a few times my new found affinity for audio books. So far I’ve stayed in the genres of motivation/self-help and autobiography. I’ve discovered that I’m really not a big fan of fiction. I enjoy good storytelling, but I like it more if it’s plausible. I think that’s why I just can’t wrap my brain around all that Game of Thrones and Walking Dead nonsense. The people are so dirty and the subject matter is so violent. I like characters, but I enjoy even more if they’re actually real. What ever happened to real life heroes?

In the past few months I’ve powered through the autobiographies of Neil Patrick Harris, George Watsky, Sara Bareilles, and Amy Poehler. (Yes, I realize what an eclectic mix this is.) I was shocked at myself for not being able to get through Tina Fey‘s autobiography as easily (it’s still waiting), but these were enjoyable for a myriad of different reasons. NPH is a brilliant storyteller, but the “Choose Your Own Adventure” format proved a bit confusing for an audiobook, even though the content was entertaining. I enjoyed hearing Watsky’s winding tales of the road and everything in between. I’ve seen Watsky live twice and met him in person once. He seems like a complicated guy and a tad difficult to get to know. Reading his memoir gave me a lot of insight and a few laughs.

The Sara Bareilles memoir was a hidden gem. She sings at the beginning of each chapter and tells stories with such aplomb that you will find yourself laughing one minute and in tears the next. It’s clear that she appreciates her fans and that she’s one of those rare artists that simply doesn’t take anything for granted. ALSO if you’re patient enough to wait through all the ending credits, there are absolutely priceless bloopers and outtakes that leave you laughing… and wanting her in your circle of friends.

But my favorite was Amy Poehler. She’s humble and adorable and she makes no qualms of telling you her shortcomings in a way that will tell you she’s actually just like you. She talks about her love/hate relationship with her cell phone, her pregnancy (and its bad timing with the Jon Hamm SNL episode), the upright citizens brigade, learning to take responsibility for her actions and apologies, SNL, Tina, Seth, her divorce, Parks & Recreation, and the TSA agent who located her laptop when she thought this book might never be published (and she attached her pic in the PDF). I enjoyed every one of her stories, and the celebrity cameos (I’m looking at you Kathleen Turner). It’s obvious that she has a lot of friends in the business who would do anything for her. And that’s saying something.

The next book I had decided to read is “Big Magic” by Elizabeth Gilbert. I’d chosen the audio book because the paperback was sent to me in a subscription box I receive monthly for Female Entrepreneurs. The reviews by other group members looked promising, so I thought I’d give it a whirl.

DEAR LORD NO! THAT WOMAN IS CRAZY! I’m only on Chapter 3 and I feel like she’s attempting to indoctrinate me with some crazy hippy commune thinking. She says that one person can have a big idea and transmit that same idea to another person simply by touch. We are just conduits for ideas as if they just whiz about looking for someone to enact them. If we aren’t ready for a big idea, if it isn’t the idea’s time, it will move on and find another conduit… or possibly come back to us when we’re ready. WHAT?!?!?

ur7ip

Yep, she’s nuts. I may be returning that title for some new hotness.

Can Jen Sincero write another book? I gobbled up the first two at warp speed. Maybe I’ll re-read them… because they were BADASS.

 

 

 

An Exercise In Duplicity

Last night I saw that a guy named Kevin Nguyen commented on an Instagram video I’d posted when I caught my dog watching cat videos with the concentration of a ninja. As it turns out, he’s part of this online video collaboration hub. Within seconds of my response, he emailed me a release form for the original video and told me he would let me know when it was posted. When he’s done editing, Quincy will be featured in one of these cute little compilations. Today I figured I would do a little more research and see exactly what Kevin and his company did.

First I googled his name. Ironically, I came across a post by the GQ Writer bearing the same name who had done the exact same thing. Of course, my next move was to go to the company website and see if he was listed. He wasn’t, but now I understand more about what I was getting myself (and my Aussie, Quincy) into.

Which leads me to my next point. Have you ever googled yourself?

Google Search

I learned some very important things about myself by performing this little experiment. First of all, I learned that Facebook is omnipotent. It always seems to take over whenever you search for anyone on the internet. I also learned that no matter how many times I spell my name correctly, the second search result is adamant about placing that extraneous E at the end. Thirdly, I seem to be a professor at Cornell. Who knew I was such an academic? I’m sure she shrugs every time she sees my makeup business come up in search results, but oh well… “Loosen your bone Wilma!”

The fourth and fifth results are actually me. One is my Linked In profile (probably more advertising) and then my makeup business, a result which I surprisingly didn’t pay for. I also found this cool chick and this one. Evidently a lot of REALLY interesting people have my name. And all this time I thought it was so boring & commonplace.

Ever since I was asked my name in grade school, I’ve been ashamed of it because I thought it was so “Blah.” I’m grateful that I didn’t change or alter it in any way back then since the names I found most appealing in my youth sound more like exotic dancer names to me now.

I’m pleased to announce that there were no criminals or any other sorts of shady persons uncovered in this little exercise. Thus, I can only conclude that people with my name are honest, smart, and creative. They are business owners, public speakers, award winners, academics… Performing today’s activity has only made me more proud to be numbered among them.

Image Search

We’re not such a bad-lookin’ bunch! (And no… I’m not in there anywhere, but I didn’t scroll either.)

Your turn!