Report Card

Wow. This 20-First-Dates goal turned out to be a lot of work! I was so exhausted by all my summertime encounters, I couldn't muster the energy to blab (er, blog) about them (even just nicknaming them to protect the innocent & guilty was too much effort until now). Who'd a thunk I'd EVER tire of my very favorite hobby? Shows to go: though some is good, more isn't always better. Finding and squeezing in the original dates would have been hard enough, but the common result of a first date is a second date, and 
sometime even a third. You can see my dilemma.

An aside:
1. During my theatre-major days, I performed a dance duet with an Italian guy. Our fellow cast-members, watching from backstage, could not help nicknaming our piece "The Chipmunk and the Hawk."
2. A former beau, when asked to name his favorite of my physical features, drove the point home, but kept things G-rated, answering: "Her (face) cheeks."
After this experiment, I can say for sure that I mimic this animal in behavior as well as physique.
pic: http://marymgrin.tumblr.com

The challenge played out on every level. Physically, who can really make that much time in her schedule? Mentally, who can keep all those family stories and careers and hobbies straight? Emotionally, it takes a better Blondie than me to maintain the romantic pace I set for myself and see beneath the flannel/silk/T-shirt-draped surface of each Greg/Peter/Bobby to the sensitive/curious/visionary truth in each of their hearts. All this is to say, I think my eyes were bigger than my stomach. Still, I stated the goal and I'll state the results.


Reader(s), allow me to direct your attention to the the scoreboard: 


Summer Dating Intentions 
1. 20 dates with different gentlemen (i.e. 20 First Dates)
2. Of those, 5 must be people I met NOT online
3. Of those, 3 must be "strangers," i.e. people I meet out and about, in public or at a party


Summer Dating Reality
1. 12 First Dates. An even dozen. 
2. Only THREE non-online dates -- all 3 being set-ups. (Thanks, helpers!)
3. Only ONE stranger date. I have no problem striking up random convos, but it's harder than it might seem to turn a chitchat with a complete stranger in the waiting room of Hogan Tire into a cup of herbal tea at my favorite little coffeehouse.  


Ladies and... Ladies (yes, you are my target audience) of the Blonde-o-sphere, I give you, the Pseudonyms:   
Baby Tim - set-up
Jon - online
John - online
Don - online. photographer
Julierme - online
Brent - online
Matt - online
Hakim - online 
Dan - set-up. he smoked!
Harry - *stranger!*
Cape Tim - set-up
Jeremy - online


Stay tuned for highs and lows. For now, I'm just glad to have caught my breath!

Judge Not, Lest Ye...

I had a total book/cover moment recently. Describing an upcoming first date, I said, "He's not bad-looking, but he's is obviously totally awkward. Look at his smile in that photo! It looks pained. He's gonna be a huge geek! I am not looking forward to this one."

Imagine my surprise when the moment arrived and J_____ was totally pleasant. He's developing drugs to fight multiple sclerosis (an issue dear to my heart), and he sails and golfs in his free time. He was definitely not suave, but he was smart and interesting and I thought we hit it off. Actually, I figured I had pretty well charmed him. At the end, he mentioned going salsa dancing, and I warmly agreed. I walked home thinking he was pretty lucky to have met a cute girl like me, who doesn't judge him for being a bit nerdy. Contrary to my expectations, I looked forward to hearing from him again.

And then...You guessed it! I didn't. Not a peep. Silencio. Pin drop. A great hush. No salsa dancing. No nothing.

http://diapersanddivinity.com/2011/07/06/humble-pie/









Make mine sugar-free, if you please.

Dating Dictionary

Taste-Text [teyst-text]- noun

image: bostonfieldfocus.com

1. using text messages to determine the suitability/character/appeal of a potential date.
2. non-verbal "conversation" in 160-character snippets, often employing now-standard abbreviations and several variations of smiley faces.
3. has generally replaced the phone call in pre-first-date or inter-date communications.

4. does no favors for gents who haven't mastered the art of the being witty, wise, and warm via a touchscreen keypad -- "Hey. What's Up?" won't get him far.

5. conversely: beware, ladies, the text king who can wrap you around his little finger with a flick of his "send" button. You never can tell what will happen when you try to move from the test kitchen to the dining room! (Yes, there's a story there...)

Mid-Term Progress Report

Time has been tight, but I am slowly chipping away at my Summer Dating Goals. Herewith, a brief update:

Summer Dating Intentions Progress To Date (6 weeks into the 16)
1. 8 different gents out of 20
2. 2 non-online dude out of the requisite 5
3. 1 stranger! out of 3

Clearly, I have some catching up to do! Subtracting some upcoming travel days, I am halfway through my dating semester. I am glad to report that I continue to fill the pipeline, and snagged a potential "stranger date" this afternoon while lolling at a nearby pond with a girlfriend. Stay tuned for details!

Meanwhile, I want to send a Blonde-Out to Yoel, for his inspiring work charting his own dating adventures. This level of specificity and good record-keeping is way beyond Blondie's sights, but I share a couple examples of his, just so you can see how a master does it. 

graph: http://yoyoel.com

graphs: http://yoyoel.com

Q: What Have We Learned About a Philosophiae Doctors??

I have already presented Exhibits A & B, validating my hands-off-the-prof policy. Need more proof? Read on...

He was the Hot Visiting Professor lecturing on anthropology/ethnomusicology. I was, in his e-words, "the really cute blonde chick" seated next to his co-presenter.


HVP (no.pun.intended.) was cute, smart, irreverent, and completing a yearlong residency in my neck of the woods. Nothing seemed more logical than electronically come-hithering him mere weeks before he returned the 900 miles from whence he had come. I jotted off a quick congrats on his presentation and, just like that, I met my match and quickly realize I needed to extinguish that spark before yours truly became the really cute, blonde, tinder.

He was WAY flirtatious, and quite aggressive in his academic mumbo-jumbo word play. Lots of "Who is the viewer? Is this an authentic performance? Yada, yada." The exchange lasted only a few days and culminated in this surprising-yet-unsurprising message from him:

shall we proceed to following Bakhtin's utopian advice and temporarily suspend social hierarchies and normative forms of etiquette and behavior in the near term future and ponder over the nature of the occasional beauty of grotesque bodies? it might be extremely gratifying, even if only temporarily so.

Translation, for those who don't speak Psuedo-Erudite Academician: "Let's get naked and *&%$!" Needless to say, Bakhtin went unheeded by Blondie this time.

ER Dr. PS:

How could I have forgotten to mention that the first thing that buttoned-up ER doc said when he came into my recovery tent was "I got your thank you note. Thank you for that."

!!!

He is SO serious, it's beyond-tempting to prod him further. Lucky for him I was still basically paralyzed from the neck down. (Get your mind out of the gutter! I just mean I was Lady Groggy-a and therefore incapable of launching my usual verbal wit parade.)

My follow-up appointment approaches, and the poor surgeon will no doubt get an earful on this subject. (Ha. Earful. Says moi, the Bride of FrankenGogh!)

Where Not to Meet a Man, v.Vacation

Or, rather:
"Where Not to Meet a Single, Straight, Child-free Man Over the Age of 18 Who Does Not Live With His Mother"

www.nanbacondesigns.com

...Browsing fabulous items like handmade wampum jewelry, "upcycled" sweaters, or handblown glassware at the Chilmark Flea Market. 

That said, browse away! Supporting local vendors and being well-accessorized are, perhaps, a couple of the luxuries of single ladies, before Costco becomes your one-stop-shop for diapers, dinner, and deceptively adorable discount duds.

Doctor Love

(What does it say that I have all kinds of real dates, but the moments that inspire blog posts are all the brushes-with-boys? For one, the full-on dates require more editing. For another...sigh...yes, the thrill is in the chase...)

Anyway...Ladies! I caught up with the ER doc again! Yes, it's true. I almost couldn't believe my good luck. And yet, cruel irony, our meeting found yours truly in full, queasy, post-surgical haze of only slightly-worn-off general anesthesia. I could barely lift my head or complete a sentence, and I might add that Blondie had not yet been handed her spectacles, so our meeting was definitely a foggy one in all senses of the word.

Vincent Van Gogh, "Selfportrait with fur hat, bandaged ear and tobacco pipe," 1889.

Remove the fur hat and tobacco pipe, add a hospital Johnny and retain the dazed expression. This is a decent interpretation of Blondie during her 2nd pass at El Doctore.

As far as I can recall, he commented on my low heart rate and asked if that was normal. [Answer: Come a little closer and let's see if we can't speed it up!] Then, he asked for a smile. [Nothing too romantic -- he was checking to make sure my facial nerves were intact. They were.]

Prior to the procedure, I had boldly admitted to my nurse and my surgeon that I thought he was dreamy. They seemed amused, and someone commented that he might be married. Boo.* Still, no one had mentioned that he would be stopping by. Maybe they sent him as a post-operative surprise? I won't look that blurry gift-horse in the mouth.

*I have scant few rules, but that, of course, is one of them. There are sooo many fish in the sea that there is no need to dip into other gal's nets. If this gets confirmed, he's off the list, plain and simple. Until then: fair game!

Romantic Espionage

They say our weaknesses can also be our strengths, but I never thought my eavesdropping could be a dating device!

Thisbe, John William Waterhouse, 1909

I admit, I am a repeat and stealth-free offender. I have been called out on numerous occasions, by friends as well as by victims who notice me practically taking notes during their juicy private-in-public conversations. Something about my slack jaw and craned neck gives me away, every time. It's embarrassing, of course, but I just can't help myself. People are so interesting!

At the local art museum, this shortfall became a man-catching asset. As I reached out to open the big, glass front doors, I heard a guy finishing up a cell phone conversation. Something about his voice caught my attention and I glanced back. He was a few steps behind us on the stairs, with dark hair, carrying a sporty yellow backpack.

Moments later, in the ticket line, we got to chatting and I blurted out, "So, you're meeting your parents here this afternoon?" Yes, folks, I blatantly admitted it. He was all, "How did you..?" and I was all, "You just said so a minute ago into your cell phone." Like, duh. He thought this was pretty funny. Indeed, when he texted later that week, he reminded me, "We met last Saturday after u 'overheard' my phone conversation a-HEM."

As I've said before, it's very helpful if a guy has something to tease you about. It's like a craggy indent on a rock climb -- it's a foothold as they hoist themselves upwards toward the peak.

His next question: "Are you also a Peeping Tom?"

[Answer: Negatory! I play espionage by ear, only. I don't peek.]

The Science (Library) Guy

The subtle pursuit of the science librarian continues. I generally don't like to be the hunter, but it is sometimes necessary set the stage. Our recent exchange was via email, since he wasn't in his office the last time I had cause to pop by.

On Tue, Jun 28, 2011 at 10:45 AM, Blondie wrote:

Do you work in the summertime? I am very much enjoying my M. Mouse pencil and have a reciprocal donation for your prize closet-or-more-accurately-prize-"drawer."

On Tuesday, June 28, 2011 at 1:15 PM, Science Guy wrote:

I'm on vacation (Yay!). I'll be back on the 11th. I look forward to the reciprocal donation, and I have an airplane shaped pencil for you.

Which begs the question... is he shopping for me in the airport gift store while en route to his vacation destination??

Ya Gotta Have a Goal

On June 5, with the encouragement of a pal, I established a few objectives. While I don't really think of dating as a numbers game, I thought it would be fun to set some targets. The only parameter I established was regarding the origin of the date -- i.e. how I came to meet the guy. I didn't make a rule about geography, profession, breeding, or anything else -- this is purely an experiment in quantity and access. Oh, and a date is defined as a pre-arranged appointment. The first meeting at someone's birthday party or in the grocery checkout line doesn't count.

No wisecracks about scoring, kids. This is a PG blog.
image: http://www.caughtoffside.com

Summer Dating Intentions
June 5-September 5, 2011 (a mere 13 weeks)
1. 20 dates with different gentlemen
2. Of those, 5 must be people I met NOT online
3. Of those, 3 must be "strangers," i.e. people I meet out and about, in public or at a party

Progress To Date (3 weeks into the 16)
1. 5 different gents (E, E, D, G, and J)
2. 1 non-online dude (J)
3. Zero strangers

That last category is tricky, but I am pleased to say that I have at least one solid lead (more on that soon). My progress may be hampered when I'm out for two weeks after a small surgery, but that will only increase my determination. Wish me luck!

Something Cheesey This Way Flirts

My last encounter with Monsieur Fromage was, by far, my favorite. Without too much convincing, I recruited a similarly flirtatious and shameless pal, E, to join me in the intrigue. The ruse: my picking up a present for my mother, whom I'd be visiting that weekend. He was happy to oblige.

image:http://itscheese.com

Highlights

At the mention that I happen to be teetotalling Blondie...
E: How will he take you out for a drink?
Blondie: I'm a cheap date!
M. Fromage: [head down, paying extremely close attention to the Manchego]



After I basically admitted to semi-stalking him, we establish that I'm a lot older than I look (and handful of years ahead of him -- see what I mean? This is becoming a theme)...
B to E: He went to [X College] -- just like my acupuncturist!
M. Fromage: Maybe I know him, what year did he graduate?
B: 19xx, just like me!
[cue astonished look]
MF: I'm doing the math in my head...

Later, the afore-mentioned acupuncturist (who galls me with his presumptions, which is why I consult him so often) asserted that I was subconsciously thwarting MF's potential advances by announcing these romance-deterrents. He might be right, I'm not sure.

Anyway, we left in high spirits, E later stating, "I think there is real potential here." Poor Mr. Cheese. He won't be free of me anytime soon.

Hug it Out

image: http://www.reamesdreams.com/pattern.htm

Hurrying down the street to my 2nd of three dates the other day, I wished I had been walking more slowly, the better to pick up what I was hearing and seeing. A middle-aged woman sitting behind a small table, which held what could have been an obscure string instrument or a large jewelry-making machine (use your imagination -- I had no clue), saying into her cell phone, "...nothing too intense. Friends with benefits -- hugging benefits."

Romantic Thriathalon

Do's and Don'ts for a Three-First-Dates Sunday

image: www.womanaroundtown.com

DO make sure all three dates are within walking distance from your house.

Also, DO wear comfortable shoes.
DON'T blow your lead. If you have 10 minutes before you have to leave for the next date, don't start folding laundry, reading another chapter in your book, or doing one more chore in the kitchen.

DO buy a few bags of frozen veggies -- there will be scant time for workweek-food prep in between seeing your suitors.

DON'T schedule them all exactly back-to-back. You'll need time to change your shirt if it's a hot day.

DO take a moment to refresh your memory about each gentleman before each date. There is nothing worse than asking, "So, do you have any siblings?" when he has already told you over email that he just returned from a trip to Brazil with his sister, who also happens to be his best friend in the whole, wide, world.

What's more, DO practice saying the person's name once or twice, especially if, say, two of the guys have names that right with each other ("Thanks for the tea, Ronald. I mean, DONALD!").
DON'T do anything silly like stuff your still-damp hair under your sunhat the hour before Date #1, imagining that this will somehow "set" your summer-humidity curls. If you do, you may find yourself with five minutes to fix a situation like this:

Then again, if such a situation arises,
DO play it off like it was exactly the look you
were going for! image: www.myspaceantics.com

DON'T forget to take a moment of quiet in between rendezvous, to cleanse your palate and get centered. By Numero Tres, you may start to feel a tad winded.

DO pinch yourself as you're hurrying to meet Mr. Third, since, what a fun life you live!

On-Call Dating

We all receive work calls/emails outside the office now and then, and, yes, they interrupt social functions. Bummer, but, I get it. And, obviously, doctors have that whole "potential life-threatening emergency" thing to deal with, so slack can be cut for medical professionals.

Nonetheless, I was entirely amazed during a date with a psychiatrist who was not, it must be stated, officially on-call that night. After returning a page from the car on the way to the restaurant ("I really shouldn't be having this conversation in front of you, for confidentiality reasons, but..."), he took two more calls regarding the same not-on-death's-door patient. Props to him for being responsible. The calls aren't my beef. But, I really thought he might step away from the table while he worked. Au contraire, mes amies! Instead, he sat there the whole time, and I heard every not-my-beeswax word. Maybe he thought it would have been ruder to leave me alone, but I'd opt for my own company rather than silently chewing my steak and trying not to listen/make eye contact as he negotiated with irate relatives about the care plan for a seriously troubled woman whose husband had left it to the sisters to advocate on her behalf while he stayed home. (See what I mean? TMI x 100!)

On the other hand, I guess I could have retreated, myself, and called him on his other line: "Paging Dr. ______. This date is in Code Red!"

In sum, this reminds me to glad things never got off the ground with the ER doc. There is always a silver lining...

More Romantic Than Morse Code

An online dating suitor recently wanted to take our email courtship to the next level. He wrote, very respectfully, "Do you have a phone or fax number you can be reached?"

Dewey vs. Cupid or "I Think My Librarian is Trying to Tell Me Something"

I knew the public library was an information treasure trove. It hadn't occurred to me that I would get relationship advice without cracking a book!

Where Not to Meet a Man, v.5

Belly Dancing Lessons!

Dancer: Rosa Noreen

In fact, much as we adore them, men seem distinctly beside the point in this class. I'm a newbie, but, to me, belly dancing seems to be about celebrating femininity, appreciating our bodies and enjoying our ability to move them. It's empowerment and exercise swathed in scarves and sparkles and set to irresistible music. All this and the chance to meet new gal pals. What's not to love? 

 

Dancer: Athena Najat photographed by Denise Marino

Special thanks to Rosa Noreen and Athena Najat, professional belly dancers and alumnae of Walnut Hill School for the Arts, for inspiring me to explore their enchanting craft.

Nagging My Way Into/Out Of His Heart

My follow-up on the allergy-ridden sound guy is slow in coming, as I am still shaking my head over my unimpressive showing.

The stage was well set, giving him both the opening salvo and the chance to poke fun at me -- universal good omens. I came around a corner and he was on the other side, shushing people because a speech was underway in the nearby auditorium.

Him: I should have known it would be you making all that noise!
Me: [Adorable guilty-as-charged face.]

Pause to allow crowd to file into auditorium.

Me: [Whispering now, out of necessity, and, necessarily, leaning in closer to be heard] Did you try the Neti Pot yet? I'm telling you, it changed my life!
Him: [Whispering in kind] I promise, I'll try it, then I'll report back to you.

Gulp! At this point, friends, I admit, I am startled. He had been so standoffish before, I couldn't believe he was so readily creating some reason for future interactions. That's the only excuse I have for what came out of my mouth next...

Me: Yes, you definitely have to! And, also, you need to stop smoking! It makes your allergies so much worse.

Blimey! Stop smoking?? Immediately, I see the error of my ways. Without waiting for a response, I flash what I hope is my most winning smile, then scamper off to sit through the lecture and ponder such an amateurish slip. When consulted, my favorite workplace wingwoman comments, "Ooh, aggressive!"

Who cares that I would never actually date a smoker, and that this entire flirtation is moot. The point is simply to prolong it! And here, gentle reader, I have nipped it in the bud. Or, butt, as the case may be. Pity me.

He Has a Way With Words

It serves me right for being cheap and signing up at a free online dating service. Still, this is one for the record books...

___________________________________________________________________

		Hello there Blondie, You have a message from Edstah85. Edstah85's message begins: I couldn't help but notice you like kids. Are you available to babysit?? View your Inbox

Meeting, greeting, retreating...

Oh, holy eavesdropping!

image: http://www.esquire.com/features/firstdate0208

I'm not doing this on purpose, but can't resist. I am at my local coffee haunt, overhearing what is most certainly a first date. The guy has just asked a girl if she'd like to come watch a game at his house and then "sleep over." Just flat-out, like that! It appears that she is tolerating this silliness, for some reason.

A few other gems from this dude (who, to be fair, seems clueless, but harmless):
"I'm gonna get my own place..."
"Are you the kind of girl who wants to, like, go to Montreal, and trips like that?"
"It never works out to bring girls camping..."
"You're tired. You're tired. What time is it? Well, if you want to hang out one more hour..."

I promise, it's not my goal to embarrass or make fun of anyone. But, ladies, here's the takeaway: it's OK to end the date! Anytime after 20 minutes, you're golden and can make a polite, and hasty, retreat.

Bon soir, Monsieur. xx

Brawling with Bonaparte

Small man, large equine!
image: http://www.knowledgerush.com

I go for long-stemmed dudes. I do. We'll get into the "why" later, but, suffice it to say, no matter how chivalrous a gent is, he tends not to light my fire if I tower over him (all 5'4" of me).

Still, I got a new perspective after recently lamenting the vertical challenges of some otherwise appealing boy, when my friend dryly replied, "I don't really go for tall guys. I like to be face-to-face when I fight."

Which makes sense... unless he rides a horse!

Watch Out, Boy, She'll Chew You Up

At a work-related event, I met and was immediately impressed with a self-made business woman who, at the age of 77, is still as sharp as a tack. Our conversation covered many topics including (surprise!) dating. She is two years a widow after a 33-year marriage and just met someone great on Match.com. That's worth a blog post, right there, but it gets better.

I lightly tossed off, as I've been counseled to do: "If you know of any fabulous guys my age, send 'em my way!" She caught me on my way out and announced, "You know, I was 37 when I met my husband. He was 24." The only possible response to this is, "Awesome!" Which is how I replied, and how she snared me. She said she'd like me to meet her grandson, and I readily agreed, learning moments later that, of course...he's 10 years younger.

And, that, my friends, is how I came to have a dinner date planned with a sassy septuagenarian and a manchild 2/3 my age. "Whoah-oh, here she comes..."

♂ + ♀ → ♂≡♀

Five Fun Facts about the science librarian at my place of employment:

1. He's a "he."
2. He rides a motorcycle.
3. He has never been to Disneyland. Yet...
4. When I left his office this afternoon, I had managed to wrangle from his Prize Drawer (Fact 3.5: He has a Prize Drawer) a shiny red pencil whose eraser end is formed into the shape of Mickey Mouse ears.
5. As of this writing, he has not yet emailed to invite me for a ride.

Stay tuned, science fans, because it is, most certainly, the perfect time of year for a chopper ride...

image: http://scienceblogs.com

Where Not to Meet a Man, v.4

I genuinely love my dad's dating advice, not because it's been effective, but because it's eclectic. He's on this third marriage, so he should know a thing or two about wooing, right? 



Anyway, Pops once suggested that I might meet a good man, "at the health food store or the laundromat." I thought this was fairly practical, since organic produce and clean shorts rate high in my book. But, my mother, no stranger to roughing it, pointed out, "You want a guy with his own washer and dryer!" Touché. 


Speaking of which, Tangzine has a great Laundromat Love post! 

Awkhole

I sort of relish awkward dating moments, which are so preciously human. Of course, I'd rather have awesome than awkward, but I prefer awkward to arid. It keeps things interesting. That said, I was not consciously trying for wince-inducement on a recent first date.

To set the scene: The guy seemed intelligent and well-intentioned, but had a strange demeanor and I got a strange vibe. He asked if I'd like to get together again, and I wasn't sure. If he was like this all the time, the answer would be no. However, if his labored speech was the result of nerve-induced pre-gaming... maybe it would be worth another try? I fumbled a bit, then heard someone ask in my voice: "Are you a little bit drunk?" 

Unfortunately, he did not take this in the spirit of sincere inquiry with which I intended it. He promptly retracted his 2nd date request and I promptly fled. Walking home, I felt like that other "A" word -- the kind that ends in "hole." Note to self: a simple "no, thank you," will generally suffice.

PS: He sent me a LinkedIn request the next day. I guess that means all is forgiven?

Love in the Time of Nasal Irrigation

It had all the makings of a great romance: near-disaster, redemption, and a connection that was more than skin-deep...

I and three colleagues were struggling to get the speakers working for an event which was to begin in just minutes. Lucky for us, a professional sound crew was within dragging distance, and drag we did. Our rescuer was a rough-around-the-edges cutie in all black (on the short side, but with humor and attitude to make up for it) who worked fast while bemoaning his terrible allergies and mincing no words about our shoddy equipment. He got us ship-shape in no time and, as you can imagine, I thought it was a great chance to make a new friend.

My coworkers dispersed to greet arriving guests, and I did what any clever and flirtatious gal would. After some extraneous thanks and a small bit of wiggling to the music now blasting from the speakers, I went in for the kill.

"Have you ever used the Neti Pot?"

(I'll take a moment to let the sheer brilliance of that one sink in.)

Yes, friends, it's true. It was quite the opening line. I'ma let you ponder how things turned out...

image: http://paxarcana.wordpress.com

Namaste!

Happy Anniversary, Dad & Liz!

I honor of my dad and stepmother's 17th anniversary, a transcript of a voicemail from him that I have saved from a couple years ago. For obvious reasons, it simple cannot be deleted:

"It seems... it occurs to me... that a good place for dating opportunities might be, like, the local theatre, y'know? That's where I met Elizabeth, doing a local production of Bertolt Brecht's* [sees a friend] -- Hi, Stan -- The Madwoman of Chaillot. For what it's worth...

image: TheAge.edu. From an Australian production, of which the reviewer opines,
"This production disappoints on so many levels it's difficult to know where to begin."
Sigh, no one said theatre was easy.  I guess it's a risky business... just like love!   

[msg cont...] But, if you really want my real recommendation, if you wanna meet nice young men... the Kingdom Hall, the local Kingdom Hall. But, that'd be the one situation where you'd have to qualify by [chuckle] getting baptized, and having goals that were in line with their goals. So, the best would be the Kingdom Hall, but then, second to that, more available, would be the local theatre -- maybe. I don't know. Just let me know whether you think these are good suggestions... or whether you want any suggestions [deep chuckle]. Anyway, I love you. It was fun to talk to you the other day. Bye-bye."


* This is a word-for-word transcription. The play is by Jean Giraudoux. Let's not split hairs.

The Being Picked-Up Artists

image: foundmagazine.com

Check out Disfunctional Bachelor, my adopted male counterpart on Pacific Standard Time, posting on that sport-of-all-sports, The Pickup.

Once you've peeked, you'll know why I say I AM TRYING THIS TECHNIQUE ASAP!!! 


Love,
Blondie

...And they lived happily ever after...

Happy Anniversary to my sweet big brother, Rick, and his lovely bride of 14 years, Jennifer.

http://usemetoday.com/relationships/first-love/

Met: In college. I imagine the institution has since revised its policy for male squatters visitors in female dorms.
Courtship: He sat behind her in class, dropping candy into the hood of her sweatshirt.
Famous Early Date: McDonald's. Rick invited, then realized he had $1 in his pocket. Jen treated.
He Puts Up With: Being the subject of embarrassingly lovey-dovey poetry (coming soon!).
She Puts Up With: 10 years in a home under varying degrees of construction. (Who needs a bathroom sink when you can brush your teeth in the shower?)
Where Are They Now? Three strong, beautiful, Tae Kwon Do-medal-winning children and a respectable pet rotation in a big red house with a stunning view of the valley in her Western Montana hometown, blessedly near where the buffalo roam. She's still writing and he's still home-improving.
My Anniversary Wish: May the sun shine long and warm on this family. May the snow melt by July. May the bear tracks be fresh (but not too fresh!). May this devoted pair continue make each other laugh out loud, almost 20 years after "he won her with a burrito."

XOXO, 
Blondie

The Very Long Goodbye

Remember when I mentioned the power of the "Take Care?" Well, my friends, I have seen it in action!

image: http://ma-nouvelle-vie-en-france.blogspot.com

I went on two dates with C____, then spent the next week convincing him that our relationship had run its course. I told him so in person, and he asked me to reconsider. I did, but the next day I confirmed via text, that it wasn't in the cards for us, best of luck, take care!" That's when the real fun began.


First, he texted. Then, he left a voicemail message.  I ignored these and awoke to a rather ominous text, inviting himself over that morning. Like, yikes! Again, silence from me until, mid-morning, he emailed.

I bit. I called to clear up any confusion, and I thought we were square. Later, this spacemail gem: "Having any regrets yet? I've been in bed all these last three days, eating containers of chocolate Haagen-Dazs." 

image: uweekly.com

Again, silence from Blondie, who figures this will have to run its course fairly soon. It did, but not until I'd received roses at work from "An Admirer." Holy Persistance, Batman! 

As of this writing, the lovestruck Romeo has found a different streetlight to wait under. May he go in peace. And may I have learned the lesson of "Take Care!"

PS: Dude has a PhD. Serves me right.

Beware the "Take Care!"

I can't believe I'm only just learning that "Take Care," is useless as a brush-off. How did I miss this crucial intell?



I tossed off the phrase recently, via text, intending to convey a cheerful au revoir. A friend hooted -- "You gave him the TC?! Watch out, Babe!" Turns out, it's like wiggling your tush and calling "catch me if you can!" Sho'nuff, the chase was ON after that. (Watch this page for details.)


Note to self: "Take care" is a verbal wave of the cloak to the charging bull. Use sparingly, lest ye risk being romantically gored by an undauntable, unsuitable suitor. Ole!

I'll Take Mine With Cheese - An Update

After lunch with a pal today, I dragged her into (heh-hem) a certain family-owned gourmetery. Sadly, there was no middle-child on duty on this fine afternoon. His mother recognized me, we bantered, and my friend was happy to pick up some Swiss. (Did you know some Swiss cheese has no holes? The things you learn while stalking Y chromes. We went traditional.) 

In other news, my mom is highly amused: "The Cheese Guy in the Dairy Drama - perfect match for the lactose intolerant.  Keep up the research!!" (Um, did I mention cow's milk makes me queasy?) 

Lastly, confirmation that girlfriends are the best friends: a local chum, wisely sussing out exactly who I'm shopping for, writes, "Let me know if you ever want a wingwoman to go say hi to B----. ;-)" 

I just may take her up on that offer -- that is, until this becomes too rich for my purse. We are, after all, talking high-class curds and whey! 

Cheesey Romantic Daydream

I marched into a little family-owned specialty shop recently on a mission to quickly collect something fabulous, then escort a friend to her wedding shower. Reading this, she'll realize why I was late! I had not anticipated encountering an adorable Man Behind the Counter. Mr. Cheese, the younger of two sons working in the family business, was very helpful in putting together an assortment of items, and even threw in a free chutney, "because it's your first time in the store." Also, he didn't even correct me when I, unthinking, leaned over the glass partition meant to keep customer-germs at bay. I think this proves he liked me.

At first, I thought this was a "Quickie's" product, which is not at all what the Blondie seeks at the moment. But, look again! "Mature" is good, right? And, I'm actually a fairly "traditional" lass. Could this be a sign?

I got as silly as I always do when I've spotted someone adorable. With classical music playing, I was completely unable to prevent myself from flitting all over the store, feeling a very tiny bit like a ballerina.Fortunately, the place was mostly empty and le mignon Monsieur Fromage was busy choosing, cutting, wrapping, and (as a special service!) labeling his choices for me.

*Precisely* my demon-possessed stare when I've got a gent in my sights!
http://grilledcheesesandwich.org/grilled-cheese-sandwich-history

Early Google stalking reveals the prey to be a handful of years younger than yours truly, but since perhaps he like his ladies like his cheddar...aged? I did go back a couple days later, to thank him and remind him of how irresistible I am. My timing was terrible and the joint was packed, but I did notice him make an awkward attempt at conversation. The more awkward, the better, in my opinion, since it seems to prove sincerity. I can't afford to pop by too often (visit #2 cost me $15!), nor am I inclined to make a complete ninny of myself, but I think one more time will have to be the charm. Dairy dating drama details TBA!

Where Not to Meet a Man, v.3

At the E.R. I tried! Sort of. 

One could make the case for a LURV emergency, 

but I'm not sure that would fly...

Of course, I didn't stroll in on a hunch that I'd find some edible, medical, man-candy. It was a legitimately urgent situation (all's well now, fyi), that just happened to lend itself (in my sleep-deprived, pain-deranged state, anyway), to a potential dating situation. I can't claim it was romantic, per se, and I definitely regretted not having brushed my teeth at 1:15am before making my feeble way to the Emergency Room. Still, the doc on call was pretty cute, in a semi-gruff, halfway-through-my-nightshift kind of way. 

http://newsinfo.iu.edu/web/page/normal/5895.html

Alas, my thank you note went unanswered. My acupuncturist says there's no way in heck a doc would follow up on something like that. I protested that I'd heard otherwise from an E.R. nurse friend, but I guess the results speak for themselves. Still, I'm not giving up. I have an appointment at that very same hospital next month. This time, I'll brush my teeth first, juuust in case. 

Note: No explicit or implicit promise of the "services" a gentleman-loving-blondie
might seek. Was that accidentally left of the sign? 

PhD: Pretty Heady Date

I live in Boston. The place is crawling with Doctors of Philosophy. I really like being around smart people, but, I confess, I've avoided dating any of this breed until recently, mistrusting professional studiers (and, I admit, fearing an invitation for ramen noodles or, eek!, dinner in the graduate dining hall). Mostly, of course, I just wondered whether I would have anything in common with a human who can live on reading, writing, and grading for eight straight years.

"Piled Higher and Deeper" by Jorge Cham ~ www.phdcomics.com

Two recent experiences have confirmed my suspicions. Not about dinner! That was just lovely, thanks. But, busts of Ceasar, Socratic arguments, and all mentions of Plato need to wait until you've stopped counting date numbers. Call me intellectually incurious, but if I'm going to be lectured at and struggle to maintain my "interested" face, I want to know there's a diploma, not just a makeout, waiting for me at the end.

PS: PHD ("Piled Higher and Deeper") Comics is pretty funny stuff!

Where Not to Meet a Man, v.2

Pic: http://agqiri.blogspot.com

...At your Shakespeare read-aloud group...

Where Not to Meet a Man, v.1

... At your women's-college-alumnae Book Club.