Date #19: The Setup Part 2

He asked me out through Facebook. It's not like he couldn't have asked our mutual friend for my number but he didn't. He found me on Facebook and proposed an evening out which I thought was kind of tacky but what the hell.

I headed to meet him at a bar in Williamsburg known for its overpriced Manhattan-esque cocktails. On my walk over I was thinking about another guy completely, but when I walked into the bar I figured the least I can do is give this guy the benefit of the doubt - at least this place he picked is nice.

I sit at the bar and flirt with the bartender until he shows up. He's not late but right on time. We take a look at the menu and I realize we're just in a bar, not a bar/restaurant, so at least it seems that there's no pressure for dinner.

I order my cocktail first but before I can finish getting the words out to the bartender, he's stopped me with:
"Hey, that's what I was going to order"
"So, you can order it too"
"Well, no I can't. On principal I can't order the same thing of someone else, ever."
"Hunh?"
"Well, I don't like to do the same as other people. And if we get the same thing, then we can't share."
"Who says I want to share my cocktail with you anyways? We just met."

He ends up ordering something different and requests the bartender to put 1/4 of the regular amount of alcohol in his drink. I think it's strange he'd order 1/4 the alcohol- I mean, I'm sitting here drinking the full amount, is he judging me for that? He admits he is, but then tastes his drink and finds its alcohol content suddenly too low then strangely asks the bar tender for only another 1/4 more alcohol.

I try not to think about it and our conversation takes a more interesting turn into architecture, bacon, concentration camps and books about human lampshades...

Somehow I past the test of drinks and he invites me to join him for dinner. We walk around a couple of blocks, a little out of our way so he can walk down a block he's never seen before, to check it off his bucket list. We decide on Thai and go into another too-swanky for Brooklyn, overpriced restaurant. We wait for a table at the bar and I insist on letting him order first so he can't base his order on mine. He doesn't ask the bartender to alter the ounce of alcohol like before, maybe he just needed to pace himself...

We sit at a table towards the back and start to review the 20-page menu. I mention my like of Pad Thai and he jumps saying that's what he was going to order, but of course he won't if I do. I tell him how stupid it is that he wouldn't order something he wants just because someone else wants the same thing... He confesses its because he wants to just try new foods and really wants to share. Share my food? To me it's a reflection of his inability to make decisions, or to stand his ground.

In the end, we decide to order some appetizers and one main dish to share, it turns out to be more than enough food. Our conversation takes a strange turn to discussing Ayn Rand, pheromones and the laws of attraction. We talked about some scientific theories a friend of mine shared with me about why and how men and women are attracted to one another. The subconscious desires we have for certain kinds of the opposite sex, the reasoning behind why women makes babies with one kind of man but then choose another raise those children with... It seems logical, make babies with Brad Pitt raise'em with Bill Gates or Brad Pitt too I guess. The whole Pro-creator versus Provider relationships...maybe not the best 1st date conversation but interesting and enjoyable none the less.

After 10 minutes on the subject of panna-cotta and me explaining why women liking chocolate has nothing to do with sex, we decided not to order desert. We continued to talk for the 15 minutes it took the waiter to return with the check. All the while, my date is looking stressed and annoyed that the waiter is taking so long with our check - as if I'm suddenly no longer interesting or he has some place else to be.

I do my duty as a good date and offer to split the check, he doesn't take me up on it but then thanks me a little too profusely for offering, as if he's never had a girl offer to pay her share. He explains to me that all girls just expect the guy to pay - as if we still live in some pre-feminism 1960s society. I told him point blank I didn't need him to pay and I wasn't look to marry him so he could relax. I thought he laughed.

Pretty quickly after he paid, we left the restaurant and he walked me to the train. He shook my hand and kissed my cheek and did the whole "nice to meet you, we'll do it again soon." But as I got into the train I had a feeling, somewhere along the evening, we both decided it wasn't going anywhere, subconsciously maybe.

At about 4:00am that night/morning, I awoke with food poisoning and figured that was a sign. Not sure if it's a sign that in Williamsburg on should stay away from too-fancy-for-Brooklyn places or that we just had bad chemistry. The next day the guy emailed me, said thank you again and pulled the "I'm really busy in the coming weeks but..." and "by the way, did you get food poisoning too?"

Date #19: The Setup, Part 1

A couple of weeks ago I attended a birthday party for a friend of mine. She had given me hints ahead of time about another friend of hers (an ex-friend who happens to be male) who would be also attending and, well, according to her I just had to meet him.

We met subtly at my friend's birthday dinner along with a bunch of other folks. On first glance, I'd say I judged him pretty thoroughly in his crisp leather jacket, overpriced jeans and patent leather shoes. I thought, this is a guy who tries too hard and is maybe a little too comfortable with himself and his metro-sexual-ness.

Somehow we ended up sitting next to each other at the end of the table and over hibachi and cocktails we filed through the typical first date questions. Fortunately, being as it wasn't a date, I could easily turn to my right and speak to someone else when I got bored.

It's not that our initial conversation at the dinner was boring, but even after a cocktail or so I kind of didn't care what he had to say - I was there to celebrate my friends birthday not flirt with her ex? Maybe that's what bugged me, knowing my friend dated this guy? He was charming enough but knowing her what was it that brought them together and what does this guy suddenly find so interesting about me?

We talked about his job, and how much more interesting mine is that his. We discussed favorite TV shows and movies and a mutual sexual attraction to Jon Hamm.

I'd say we enjoyed dinner, singing happy birthday and laughing at the precision with wish our hibachi chef threw shrimp into his hat.

On our walk outside as a group we all said goodbye, he hopped on his motorcycle and head back to his deep Brooklyn apartment. I had a feeling he'd ask me out, he was just too polite. But he didn't then and didn't ask for my phone number so the girls and I just walked to the train giggling as girls do...

DATE# 18: Well...it almost counts...

I really didn't think I would have time this week for a date. I've been busy, I'm producing a movie for goodness sakes. And, honestly, after receiving a bit of grief over the summer for dating for the sake of dating and not for the seeking of a mate, I've slowed down. It could also be that turning 27 ages one some...

But this week I found myself wanting to do something to get over the feeling that I can't date someone I might like to date because it's just not possible. Does my rambling express well enough my sentiment? I mean, it's not really fair that I meet someone I might like to even consider dating and I can't try to date him because of elements out of my control. Everyone knows I'm someone who needs to be in control.

I found this guy on one of the dating sites I still belong to and he proposed an afterwork trip to the farmers market. We exchange a few emails about it but my schedule is kind of packed. I'm only in the city for a week before I leave again for 2. I tell him I'll let him know if a day frees up.

Miraculously, it does. I email him (we never exchanged numbers) on the train back from visiting a friend in Tarrytown, and he responds even though he's still at work (he does computer marketing.) I tell him I'm headed to Union Sq, does he want to join for some market shopping? He suggests we meet at Barnes & Nobles (typical 'I got no game plan' plan) and I say great, I'll see you there.

I obviously get there before him, the cafe is packed but I squeeze into a shared table and work on my iPad, being very productive. Every now and then I look up but don't see anyone that looks like what I think his picture looks like. I try to remember his face but really just hope he remembers mine. I told him I just cut my hair, short short, but didn't think that makes a difference, does it?

I think it does. When he was 20 minutes late and not responding to my email of "hey, you still coming?"

I was working and didn't notice the time pass or how late he really was. Just a few moments after I sent him that "you're late asshole"-esque email, I saw someone who looked like him standing just beyond the cafe area. He looked up and right at me. I smiled thinking it was him, and started to stuff my crap back into my bag. But when I looked up again, he was gone. Was I mistaken? Was it in fact, not him? Or was it and had he changed his mind upon seeing my magnificence?

I'll be honest, I was more than a little perturbed at this chain of events. I had half the mind to run after him, grab him by the arm and ask him who the bloody F buckets did he think he was? I didn't, mostly cause I shop at the Union Sq B&N alot and wanted to be welcomed back... I just left feeling even more superior than the rest of the world, I mean, I'm awesome, I'm the bomb, I'm producing a f--king movie (sure, a short but still...) and still manage to look halfway good despite being stressed out my eyeballs and not sleeping. Who the f--- did he, or anyone, think they were to walk out on me!? Or stand me up? Livid is too calm a word to describe me in that moment.

He did, however 10 minutes later, respond to my email with: "So sorry. I left you a message, I'm held up at work. Raincheck!" So maybe it wasn't him I saw in the B&N, or maybe it was and this was his polite way of backing out, covering his ass... Of course, I never gave him my number directly but it's on my email signature... But I never got that voicemail, and I've played that game before too: "Sure, I totally left you a message, it must be the fault of AT&T, so sorry!" Uh-hem: BULLSHIT.

He Calls When He Says He Will....

If you read Date # 17, you know I met another perfectly good guy I have no idea what to do with. Sure, a decision to return this fish to the sea should be easy seeing as he lives 8 hours away but just a few short days after we parted and I was on my way to forgetting his name, he called. Yeah, he called when he said he would and it surprised me.

I know I shouldn't allow myself to be surprised but that was the whole point in throwing expectations out the window. When you don't expect anything, of course you'll be surprised! And life is much more exciting when it's full of surprises.

A phone call shouldn't be so exciting, or even a dozen of them over a few week period, but lets face it, this is how girls think. They sit around filing their nails, drinking cosmos and wonder with each other as to why a guy hasn't called, if she should call him or text him or what the F? And if/when a guy does call, we have no idea what to do or think and basically we are genetically scarred.

I was recently out with one such girlfriend who couldn't understand why her boyfriend hadn't called or texted her with plans. Why had he not responded to her calls or texts? How disrespectful, what a douche, who does he think he is? And why on earth isn't he thinking of me? I thought - should I be thinking all of these things too? It's too stressful! However, later that same night, Pittsburgh guy did call me out of the blue, unexpectedly, and I had all the answers to my friends questions.... Your boyfriend probably isn't thinking about you for a whole 5 minutes and that's why he hasn't called, because if he wants to call he will. How do we, as women, not know this?

Of course I'm stressed out about not caring if this guy calls or not. I mean, it's super nice, but I don't know if I remember what he looks like let alone how he kisses. We aren't Facebook friends (how could we be with all the shit I'm saying about him?), we don't email, we don't really text - maybe twice... We talk on the phone like we're in the 7th grade and our parents are downstairs listening in, it's all PG, he's never even asked what I was wearing. And then I totally forget that we haven't spoken for a week until he calls and I let it got to voice mail just so I can hear how he pronounces his full name all over again.

And for the record, I'm not going to Pittsburgh so whatever this isn't, it's going to stay that way until he comes to New York, if he ever comes. But I will admit, I do wonder what it would be like, to get to know someone who laughs at your bad jokes AND calls when he says he will, and sometimes even when he says he won't...

DATE #17: The Wedding Date

If it's not already apparent by my crazy dating spree and reactions to many a man... I am a long far way off from having a wedding. And actually, possibly even further away from even wanting one. But who doesn't like attending them? I mean how can you not love watching the extreme displays of romantic sentiment: the mothers crying for their sons, the fathers tearful over their daughters, oooh how lovely that flower is in her hair and how handsome does he look in that tux? All those feelings poured out all over the place can quite possibly warm even the coldest of hearts. And then of course the open bar and the dancing help too, allowing you to suspend your disbelief and believe in happiness and love as you see the beautiful couple kiss in the sunlight and you think: "there is no way this marriage is ending in divorce."

I went to one of those beautiful, sentimental weddings this past weekend far up on Lake George at a summer camp that glows at sunset. I traveled up with some work buddies but no intended date, the bride and groom promised singles abound so I wanted to be open.

It was a perfect summer day, clear blue sky and sunny. We checked into our bunk cabins went swimming in the lake, then dressed for the "ceremony". The bar started serving before the ceremony and while standing around waiting for the couple to arrive, glass of wine in hand, I met a few friends of both the bride and groom. Among them a cute boy from Pittsburgh, and before the couple said "I Do", we were laughing up a storm and trading stories about the groom.

The couple exchanged vows in about 5 minutes in one of the most elegant, relaxed and unpretentious weddings I've ever witnessed. Then of course it was back to the bar and a picnic style dinner on the lake shore.

Mr. Pittsburgh and I were seated at adjoining picnic tables and bonded over the mediocre burgers and excellent mac and cheese. Later, we followed the newly married couple, their family and friends, over to the camp event hall for dancing, dessert and silly photos (oh, and more wine!). I managed to get all the boys I work with to dance with me (even though they were terrible) and eventually Mr. Pittsburgh himself asked me to dance - after our 3rd trip to the bar together and it was a hysterical good time.

The party wrapped up fairly early so the newly weds could hitch a boat to their nearby B&B and the guests staying at the camp headed to the bunks for a camp fire. Mr. Pittsburgh and I took the long way back to the campsite and just past the rock climbing wall he stole a kiss. We were suddenly fifteen and out past curfew.

We headed back to the bunks and changed out of our dancing shoes and into campfire clothes. We sat around the fire with 20 of the bride and grooms best 20-something friends, roasted marshmallows, made s'mores and shared silly camp stories over beer. Then Mr. Pittsburgh and I walked back to the lake. We sat on a bench at the water's edge and listened as some other wedding guests were reprimanded for jumping in the lake off the nearby docks and waking the neighbors.

As we kissed, I flashed back to my first kiss, 10 years and little more than 1 month ago on the shores of lake Michigan at summer film camp at Northwestern University. It was past curfew then too, and every sweet childish kiss felt like trouble. I thought for a moment, in 10 years I haven't emotionally evolved all that much I guess... and we never really do escape those traumatizing teen years when everything changes. And yet, in this moment, making out on the bench waiting for a camp counselor to catch us and send us back to the bunks - felt incredibly liberating and exhilarating.

Of course then I asked him if he knew my name and his hesitation made me laugh so hard the neighbors light went on and we feared for being caught. He said it started with a "g" and was too hard to pronounce. I figured it didn't matter anyways.

At some point in the wee hours of the morning we walked back to the bunks and found many a fellow guest still gathered round the embers of the fire but getting ready to head off to bed. Mr. Pittsburgh walked me to my cabin door and kissed me good night, then invited me to meet him for breakfast the next morning (about 5 hours later).

In the morning, I didn't rush to find him nor sit with him at breakfast. I was significantly less confident than the night before and looking at him across the breakfast buffet thought maybe he was just a cute boy and nothing more. But then, he put his arm around me at the breakfast table in front of all his friends and all my friends and I must have been plum in the face. I am a girl after all and well shit, it was adorable. (my normal self would barf at this!)

After brunch we went back to the lake, skipping the Bride vs. Groom family softball game (the Bride's team won). We swam, we played Marco Polo, sunbathed and watched my friend show off and almost drown himself diving headfirst into 2 feet of water...

The afternoon came too quickly and we all had to hit the road for hours of late Sunday driving back to our respective cities. We helped each other pack our camping gear, kissed goodbye and exchanged numbers. He said he'd come and visit NYC, I said there was no way in hell I was going to Pittsburgh. He said he'd call. He said he'd facebook me. And all of the normal "he said..." garbage girls get giddy over.

Sure, he hasn't done any of what "he said" which is fine because realistically, it's not like a summer wedding fling thing ever goes anywhere. But the girlie part of me wants him to facebook me just so I can say "denied" (I wouldn't want him to know about the blog, now would I?) And yet another girlie part of me still does want him to call... Shit, someone tell Taylor Swift I have her a new song.

DATE #16: Let's Talk About.... Exes?

I think i've always been known as a good listener, thats of course when i actually shut my mouth long enough to hear what someone else says...

I met this fine young gentlemen at an event for NYU's Continuing Education program - I'm thinking of taking a class or two - at it was an open bar info session to get people to take their classes. I stayed about 5 minutes but in that time met this boy at the bar. I don't think i've met any of the guys i've dated at a bar...its so cliche. He was green eyed and wore a clean button down shirt and slacks, in more a banker way than a sexy business man way...

We very briefly discussed what we do, he's in finance but looking to make a switch and thus was considering some courses in non-profit start up. I had a meeting to run too but we exchanged cards in an attempt to network. Who knows, i may have a non profit to start one day.

He emailed me the next day, a nice to meet you kind of email and a " maybe we could grab a coffee sometime soon." I responded with a "sure". Of course my schedule has been beyond overbooked recently so i told him he'd have to meet me somewhere near work for maybe just one drink or a coffee or something quick and get to know you thing.

We met two days later, he texted me on the way to my office and asked how i take my coffee. I didn't have the heart to say I don't drink coffee after 3 pm, so i went with an iced decaf coffee, black with a sugar. He actually met me right on the ground floor of my office building, coffee in hand, and we went for a walk on the pier. It was a beautiful 95 degree day.

I let him start the conversation which was the boring stuff asking about what exactly it is i do and why do i work in an old Meryll Lynch building.... I wanted to discuss his non profit ideas but he suddenly, unexpectedly switched the subject to: "just so you know, I'm not looking for a relationship right now."

I just laughed even though I found this odd. Didn't he ask me out? I mean it's fine, its just coffee no need to discuss relationships but does that mean he just wants a one night stand? Doesn't seem the type but might be cute enough to consider..

But then he continued: " I just got out a really long term relationship. About3 months ago. And you seem really nice but I'm still in love with this girl..."

Great. Can i have a barf bag please? I find a relationship kind of guy who most definitely does not want one with me cause he still thinks he has one. But i couldn't leave him standing alone on the pier (when he mentioned this girl i started to worry he might jump in the Hudson). So i decided to listen, and more horrifically, asked him to tell me all about her, maybe i could learn something.

They were together for 5 years, she wanted to get married and he hesitated just long enough for her to get out the door. But bah, blah, the more girls he meets since she left the more he realizes he wants to be with her. Sounds like every romantic comedy that should be happening to me!

I didn't say anything for a while and when he was done and my ice coffee well melted to coffee flavored water, i opened my bug mouth and called him a putz. Then i fed him all my romantic idealism about fighting for the one you love and if its meant to be it will be and all the BS i so often and readily reject these days as I become more bitter about my own situation. Of course, i do remain hopeful and I will spread that romanticism like a little fairy to those in need in hopes maybe karma will come back to me.

Basically i told the guy to call her - he actually hadn't since she left! And if he really loved her and it was really meant to be, i wanted an invite to the wedding to meet his single friends. At least i got a laugh out of him despite wanting more from him cuteness.

The Best Friend Who's A Boy

I have a best friend who happens to be a guy I dated 10 years ago for about 5 minutes. We've stayed friends over the years though he hasn't entirely gotten over his unrequited love for me. And he's definitely asked me to marry him a time or two, once to be his baby-mama and once to help me get health insurance which was sweet but he's too good of a guy to take advantage of and as a friend I think he deserves someone who will love him back. Of course that doesn't stop us from going out on dates every now and then and confusing the hell out of our public with our intimate yet non-sexual behavior.

I bring all of this up as there seems to be a question about my ability to be intimate or to want intimacy with someone and that affects how I approach each date. Obviously I don't have a problem kissing a guy in the moment such as dates 7 and 14, if I feel its appropriate, comfortable and i've had enough wine. But there seems to be some question, by some readers, as to whether or not I really want something more or I'm just playing the field for kicks and writing material.

Sure, its great to have something to write about but I am sincere in my quest.

This particular friend and I had one of our friend dates recently. And although he's a guy, they aren't usually more than food, shopping and talking about boys. We had a brunch date, he held the door for me, pulled out my chair and let me order first though he let me pick up the tab. Then we walked, hand in hand, down Bedford ave laughing about how hysterically terrible it would be if his girlfriend saw us or if one of my friends happened by, however would we explain this seemingly normal form of PDA?

He put his arm around my shoulder, around my waist, kissed my check and tried to buy me a dress. Are these not boyfriend things? I can't remember. We went shopping for his kid, for a birthday present for my friend and for a vibrator for him and his girlfriend to enjoy together. Really that last part happened cause we popped into an lingerie shop where he intended to by me something nice for my next date in no mans land... But as it turned out, the shop was more the sign said and we spent and hour with the shop girl as she explained the dozens of vibrators for individual and partner use.

We settled on a purple one tied up in a black box with a pink bow. He carried all the bags and held my hand in his other hand. As we continued walking around tone i wondered if this is something i would do with my future man? And for a split second thought how much easier my romantic life would be if i just settled for the one holding my hand. I told him this and after giving me a sloppy kiss on the hand, he said i shouldn't settle for him because as often as i tease him that he could do better than me, i too could do better than him. And tests what love is right? Wanting the best for each other?

Beyond the Birthday

As you'll notice, I have now been 27 for just shy of 7 days. I didn't post on my birthday as I was, and maybe still am, deciding how to proceed with this blog now that I'm 27 and didn't make my goal of 27 dates.

I think maybe I have more to offer than just my twisted view of the world of dating, or maybe not. There are still a lot of maybes that need to be answered so in the meantime I am going to keep dating and maybe I'll reach 28 dates before I find the answers or maybe I'll meet mister right at number 16 and this will all be over...

In my continuation, look for posts that go beyond just my bad dates and maybe we'll all learn a little more about me and the direction of this ridiculously great adventure.

DATE #14 gets a non-date 2nd chance...

Everyone was right to comment and believe that my 14th day was actually a successful date as dates go. We had a good time, enjoyed each others' company and check out some cute gay boys together. And although, while kissing, I was distracted by memories of kissing other boys and trying to compare even after great lengths of time... I still had a good time. As you all witnessed, I admitted openly that this one was probably a good one.

Well, even I can be wrong. And I'm not saying he's not a good one for someone else, but...

After my 15th date was a bit of a flop, I thought I'd be daring and invite date #14 to a party my roommates and I were hosting at our place. It was a risk but I figured why not? We have mutual friends so it can't be all bad.

The party was fun. We had a good turn out of good people and after a few beers I was hoping he wouldn't show so that I could just enjoy myself without any pressure. At about 12:30 he texts me he is on his way and by 1:15, he shows up, partly drunk and carrying a planted pot of pink flowers. Well, there went the low key good fun.

I was super polite (especially for me after a few drinks) and thanked him for embarrassing himself by delivering flowers to my home full of drunk twenty-somethings. He immediately threw back his shoulders like a proud gorilla in the jungle and set about trying to mark territory. I was hostess so I offered a beer but after being ordered to open it, I tossed it shaken in his direction and decided I was done. Some people just look different in the light and sometimes it only takes a beer or two for the truth to be true, and man, I suddenly, most definitely wasn't in to you.

As the night went on, I just ignored him. I crowd weened and soon there were maybe 7 or 8 of us sitting around while he and a buddy played Wii at 2:30 on Sunday morning. I decided, as I had no desire to play Wii with the drunk boys, that I was ready for bed and thus announced to the room that I was turning in. This promptly got the attention of date #14 who felt the need to pause his game and accompany me down the hall.

I stopped short of my bedroom door and said a polite thank you for coming it was very nice and take care, blah blah blah. I gave him a kind pat on the back hug and headed towards my room. His first mistake was to try and stop me:
"Just like that, you're just going to bed?"
"Well, yes. It's 3am and I'm tired and had enough to drink and I'd like to sleep now."
"We didn't even get to hang out."
"So?"
"Well..."
"I said thanks for coming but it's time for me to go. to bed."
I open the door to my room and walk in, starting to close the door behind me. His second mistake was trying to stop me. He put his hand on my door to keep it open and then took a step in. I put my hand out to stop him and said, still nice, "I need to go to bed and you can't come in here."
Then he grabbed the door from me and closed it, closed himself in. Then he grabbed for my waist and try to pull me towards him, I guess not getting the "Thanks but no thanks" from our conversation.

Had I been any more sober he would have lost his balls.

I pushed him backwards, opened the door and pushed him out into the hall. He leaned back into the door frame with an "I don't understand. I just thought, come on..."
"You thought wrong. And I think you should get out."
He advanced. "Seriously?"
"You should get the fuck out now." I didn't raise my voice but at this point I could tell the rest of the apartment was quiet. He looked down the hall then back at me. Then he stomped his foot and headed for the front door, slamming it behind him, leaving the friend he brought, and the plant, both in my apartment with the other onlookers.

I shut my bedroom door and laughed for a whole minute.

He texted me maybe 20 minutes later with the "I'm confused and not happy and you need to explain." But I felt relief in knowing, that really, I don't have to explain. I don't have to explain myself to anyone but me.

DATE #15: King Tut plays Piano

The only way to cure the uncertainty of one date is simply to go on another - but with someone else.

And to participate in an activity that is sure to be a distraction from any emotions at all - such as a trip to Times Square for the King Tut exhibition at the Discovery center, and what a discovery it was!

Picture me, rushing through Times Sq, late as always, pushing past the tourists waiting in line for their overpriced Broadway shows and pushing through the doors to the Discovery center in a rush. I burst through the doors and the place is virtually empty besides a tourist couple and my date, sitting with his legs cross, fingers tapping at his knee. He gets up to great me, and shakes my hand in a weak way and opens his mouth to say hello.

Now, I'm not judging here, but I got the distinct feeling that there was some disappointment in my appearance, as if he were hoping I'd turn out to be a guy. Yeah, I got the feeling that maybe he's gay and just in denial or still in the closet or trying to show his parent's he's making an effort... and I could be totally wrong about this, it was just a feeling - and he didn't check me out, I was wearing a low cut top and a skirt and he didn't once do the eye roll up and down.

He was however, able to feign an interest in Tutankhamun, the Boy King of Egypt. We took our tickets and entered the tour with a total of 7 other people. Our voices carried in the empty galleries over the ancient relics from Tut's tomb as we discussed our college educations, daily work life and the existence of aliens.

We discussed the possibility that in 1922, the discoverer of Tut's treasure tomb was really a talented production designer and fabricated all of the artifacts and used his tomb for cheap storage. We toyed back and forth with the alien idea again too, when you see the incredible detail in the tiny gold figures it seems humanly impossible to craft those fine details and for those of us who want to believe, the ancient Egyptian art seems like a good argument for proof of something other worldly. We walked the exhibition expressing ooohs and ahhhhs, not really reading the info plaques, more making up our own stories for the figurines depicting King Tut, his bride, his royal-ness... We raced to the end to see the real Tut, only to find (SPOILER ALERT) that he was a replica. A good replica of the mummified Boy King, but a replica none-the-less. After a few minutes rubbing his brass skull replica, we headed into the gift shop and probably spent more time there contemplating buying stuffed bear Pharaohs and pocket-sized sarcophagus's, we took the escalator up and out onto the street, back into the reality of Times Square.

As interesting as the exhibit was, it was pretty clear we didn't find each other as interesting as our new friend Tut. But in a good friendly spirit, we decided to check out a wine bar on 8th Ave. I was voting for the new Shake Shack but the line was around the block and not conducive to conversation.

We sat in the wine bar with the heat sweltering in through the open doors and he told me about life as a music teacher on the upper west side. Riveting, really. To me it seemed the best thing about being a teach is having the summer off, but for him, working at a snooty flooty upper west private school, the best stories were of students bragging about which rapper showed up at his Bar Mitzvah and comparing who got the best gifts - a yacht, a car parked at the Hamptons home ready for the kid to drive at 16, never mind the kid already had a driver... Stories of the grotesquely rich and their poor taste never gets old with me and for once I didn't have to talk about my glamorous life as a locations coordinator/wanna-be-producer. A relief.

We both drank rather quickly and were more than happy not to keep a tab open at the bar. We both, almost simultaneously, came up with the "I have some work to catch up on tonight" excuse and departed the bar in way less than an hour. He kindly walked me to the subway and we shook hands/patted on the back goodbye.

The whole time I was on the subway home, I was regretting two things only: I should have bought the mini sarcophagus complete with mini mummy for my purse and I should have stopped at Shake Shack for dinner....

DATE #14: Outside the Workplace

I have a firm no dating in the industry policy. I don't date co-workers, I don't date filmmakers. I'm very very strict about this, I just don't do it, NO, NO, NO. There is a reason I don't, it's not completely ridiculous that I don't want the entire New York film community know all about my personal life. (even if most of them read my blog...) I want to have that separation of work and life, like church and state, it's completely necessary to keep me sane!

But somehow, in some crazy turn of events, I agreed to go on a date with a co-worker - granted we are no longer working together - but I agreed nonetheless. It was part desperation for a date to add to my blog, part - he stood up to me when I bitched him out at work and that's kind of cute (you know, he tried to win a fight he just couldn't, it's cute) and part he was a real live guy asking me out and not an Internet fix up, oh, and he came with good recommendations. Alright, it was mostly, I need something interesting to write and going against everything I believe about dating in the work place seemed like an interesting subject to broach.

Of course I wasn't expecting to face the fact that this guy is the kind of guy I probably SHOULD be dating. Someone who knows what working in the biz is like, who understands the hours and crazy schedule and someone who has seen my prickly office personality and yet still finds me irresistibly adorable.

We met for drinks on a work night. I figured that way I wouldn't be committing to too much, no dinner, no staying out late, and he'd understand since we both would have to work early. I was 10 minutes late as usual, he was sitting at the bar counting down the minutes til he could declare me "that bitch who stood me up". But I showed up. Instead of a nice half hug with a pat on the back, he pulled me directly into a wet kiss on the cheek which was quite unexpected.

We got wildly expensive sugary cocktails and sat down at a table where we very quickly decided to eat. The waiter came by and my date ordered appetizers for both of us before I had a chance to even voice my opinion. I don't think I've ever had a guy order for me - I was partially flattered and partially thinking who the hell does he think he is, taking away my free will like that. It did however give me something to tease him about and despite how uncertain I felt about the evening, the teasing helped break the ice. And his appetizer choices weren't bad, that is except for the hot wings - sorry, you just don't order hot wings in a fancy restaurant where 1) you shouldn't be eating finger food and 2) you don't know that your date can't handle anything spice. Please, I'm spicy enough I don't need my food to be too.

We managed to find lots to talk about, well, we mostly talked about work but it was nice to actually have something in common with a date - other than having met online which wasn't even the case here. I agreed to move on from appetizers to dinner. Of course as soon as we order dinner, the manager comes over to tell us the kitchen is closed. It's hardly 10:30 and in a swanky joint as we were, I couldn't believe the kitchen was closed! However, for our inconvenience, we scored several free deserts and we were pretty much the last people in the restaurant, having a good time not even I can deny.

Without even checking the time on our iPhones, we went for a drink in the secret bar room next door. He grabbed the drinks and we sat on a squishy couch across from 2 girls and a guy and decided to make up stories about their lives, in my mind the guy was sleeping with both girls, one his girl friend, the other her best friend... and as I was telling my version of their story out loud, my date believed they caught wind as they stood to leave and he blushed with embarrassment. Which was kind of cute, I embarrassed a guy in public who then leaned over and told me how beautiful I am, as if I didn't know - but he was sincere and I felt a slight wave of guilt.

When the three-some left, a good-looking gay couple sat across the way and we watched as they made out in a romantic candle-lit corner. I know it may not sound romantic but it actually was quite inspiring and there wasn't any inappropriate story I could make up. I looked at my date and wondered if I would want to kiss him like that couple, and I just didn't know.

Of course, I didn't have to make a choice, just as I didn't have to pick the restaurant, or the drinks, or the appetizers, nor did I have to pick up any tab, it was a refreshing no-decision evening. And continuing with that theme, he made the choice to kiss me. I doubt we looked as good as the gay couple but it wasn't like anyone was looking. I can't say it was fireworks but it was a comfortable change for the first time since I started all this mess of dating.

The bar was closing but how could one more drink kill us? It was only 1, work will still be there if we're late... We got up to leave and he went for the rest room and while I waited by the door. A very drunk good looking Australian walked up to me and leaned his arm on the door frame over me and whispered in my ear "you look hot with your hand on your hip". I laughed a thank you as he then went off on a rant about having left his beer in the bathroom and how my date was probably peeing in his cup. I was wishing he did.

On our final drink we talked about likes and dislikes, the standard date questions finally came around after discussing a myriad of other topics from favorite travel places to intimacy differences between men and women. Somehow, I accidentally let it slip that I write a dating blog. Not sure how it came up, or why I didn't shut my mouth when he said he couldn't hear me over the music, I thought I'd be doing him a favor if I was honest.. he was definitely freaked the *@%^ out and I thought wow, this is an easy way out of something that definitely has potential to get complicated. But he didn't give in that easy. He just switched subjects and we kept right on having an oddly good time.

When it finally felt too late for either of us to be efficient at work the next day, we decided to share a cab back to Brooklyn. He dropped me at my place, but not just a drop - he had the cab wait with the meter running so he could walk me to my door and give me a good night kiss. I looked at him before I shut the door and thought dating him could be so easy but I don't know how to do easy and he's too nice - someone should warn him I'm the black widow of dating.

The Future of Love

Alright my dearest readers (all 9 of you).

I have ONE WEEK to my self-imposed deadline to meet my goal of 27 dates before my 27th birthday. But now my birthday is next Tuesday and, well, it's about near impossible - unless I go on 2 dates a day for the next week - that I will meet my goal.

But I'm not a giver-upper so help me make a decision:

Do I continue to date until I hit 27 beyond my birthday, or do I give up now while I'm behind?

If I can get 100 readers in the next 7 days, I will continue to pursue my mission beyond next Tuesday. If I don't, then I'll move on. Throughout this week, I will continue to date so look for lots of updates. Share this with your friends, your family, your family friends and friends of friends and help me get 100 readers (more would be nice for my ego), and I'll keep going.

The future of my love life is in your hands.

Here's how: Become a FOLLOWER on my blog page, hit LIKE on Facebook or leave a comment on the blog or Facebook - all those hits will count (multiple hits by the same person don't though I'll appreciate the love).

DATE #13: Mr. Money Bags

Lucky number 13. Cream of the crop, perfect on paper. What girl hasn't dreamed of marrying rich and settling into a life of solitude in the suburbs? Even I've considered it in weak moments...

This guy proposed a walk on the Highline with an ice coffee and good conversation. That was his pitch. His pluses included a $200K+ salary, an apartment in Tribeca (his parents owned), a Jewish bloodline and an affinity for button-down shirts with cuff links. I've always loved a man in cuff links. But there is something about a man who talks about how much his cuff links cost that, well frankly, is a huge turn off.

It was Sunday afternoon and I hadn't heard from him so I thought our date was off. I went to Bed, Bath and Beyond to buy a curtain rod and right after I checked out, he called and wanted to see if I was still free. I should have said no, busy, let's reschedule - but I didn't. So I carried my curtain rod down to Chelsea Market where we met for an ice coffee and that walk on the Highline (which turned out to be let's sit on a bench so I don't have to walk and carry a coffee and a curtain rod and look uncomfortable while trying to look attractive).

And then we spent an hour talking about him. How refreshing, a guy who isn't interested in my glamorous movie career. We talked about his job and he was telling me about his boss and some scandal and how he was anticipating a promotion and a raise (as if he needed to make more). We talked about his Jewish grandmother and her pressure for him to settle down with a nice girl and how hard it was to find a nice Jewish girl in the city and how nice I seemed (if only he knew). I kindly commented on his cuff links, which weren't necessarily my task. They were white and yellow gold stripped and from some expensive brand that lacked for personal taste. I did think it impressive he was wearing a long sleeve button down with cuff links and slacks on a 90degree day but as we talked, about him, it seemed less likely he was dressing to impress me and more that he probably had no personal style and thus wore the same style suit every day.

I looked at him, his big Jewish nose, dark hair and bushy eye brows and thought: "Not even for all the money...."

So as an hour is winding down and I'm looking for a way out, he finally switches subjects and asks what I do. I haven't really heard a word he's said since we discussed the cuff links, I was more interested in the mix of passersby and their looks at me, sitting there, hugging my curtain rod like it's a life line.

I said I worked in film and he didn't inquire further than saying, that's probably cool - as if he'd never seen a movie and didn't care to know what they were like. I excused myself with a "I've had too much coffee and think I have a stomach ache". He didn't seem to mind. He didn't even walk me to the train but shook my hand goodbye right there on the Highline and me and my curtain rod walked away...


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Flirting with the Law

My time is running out! In just a few short weeks I'll hit my deadline and I won't have made my goal! Desperate times call for desperate measures!

I was walking into the subway station at Union Square when I was un-expectantly stopped by a police officer and asked to show the contents of my bag to a group of officers standing at a table nearby. It was a random routine check. Good thing I had a box of tampons falling out of a Duane Reade bag spilling all over the inside of my bag.

I've always had a thing for men in uniform. Not the janitor uniform but a nice military-esque, police, fireman - the authoritative kind of uniform. It's the discipline and power vibe that rolls off uniformed men that can be a turn on. I'm always looking for someone tougher than myself, and it's a bonus if he can wield a gun. Of course I am very aware that not every uniformed man is an independently thinking, intelligent, sexy, gun-wielding super guy, but a girl can always hope.

Of the three officers at the search table, the young, fairly handsome and single (no ring) one steps up to me. I sighed in relief and smiled sweetly as I handed him my bag. I of course then suffered a severe Homer Simpson moment, wanting to slap my head with my hand as he started emptying the bag on the table. I can't believe how much shit I carry. He didn't seem bothered by the tampons, the 3 half-used chapsticks, the half-eaten granola bar... he smiled and said everything was fine and helped me push the crap back into my bag. Our hands briefly touched.

I said thank you and started to walk away, but as I reached in my bag, I couldn't find my metrocard! I went back to the table, looked over and under and it wasn't there. The officer helped me look but then pulled out his own metrocard (or his City-issued one) and swiped me through the "special entrance" gate. I dug my hand back in my bag and pulled out a card.

"Just in case", I said. He winked and I walked away. I'm sure that ended up in the nearest trashcan but what a lovely thought...

DATE #12: Please Stand Up

I went trapezing with a very good friend of mine for her birthday. Our class was at 9am and had a handful of flavorful people. I shouldn't have doubted that a trapeze class would be a great place to meet interesting people and it was decidedly unexpected when two fairly handsome and polite young men joined our class. One of them was married had the ring and baby photos, and actually wasn't very skilled on the trapeze. I was a natural. But his friend, the ring-less one, was both attractive and charming and didn't make a complete ass of himself on the trapeze.

We flirted, we laughed and watched our friends fly and flop in the air. He was applying to med school, smart, interesting - definitely a fine catch and couldn't stop smiling at me. At the end of our class, after group photos and hugs, I decided to be bold and slipped him my business card asking him to email me the group photo - and you know maybe we could grab a coffee. Turned out we both lived in Park Slope (well I did at the time).

We emailed back and forth, then set a time and place to meet for coffee in a new Slope cafe. I'll be honest I was excited, overthinking - could this possibly be a date I want to have? With a guy I might like?

Nope. He never showed. He didn't even call or text or email. I texted him once and didn't push it.

A few days later I got an email - "Hey, sorry about the other day. I have a girlfriend. Should have said that before. And it just seemed wrong to meet you but good luck with everything!"

::::insert a myriad of inappropriate choice words::::

Maybe I'm done with this shit. Who has time in this life to be burned?

DATE #11: The Non-Date, Date

This story starts like most do - almost two years ago on a flight from New York to Cincinnati. I was flying backward to Paris and he onward to California. We chatted the whole flight, exchanged names and became Facebook friends, the kind who never really spoke again.
Flash forward to this most recent February when I started this crazy mission to go on 27 dates in just about that many weeks. And this Facebook friend, unbeknown to me, was actually reading my blog. Sure it didn't happen so easily, he was really going to delete me and then discovered the humor (or patheticness of my mission) and kept reading. Then he reached out and on recent trip to New York, was brave enough to take me out.

We went for coffee and I made the plans to work around me. He didn't seem to mind. When we met up he served me the line "You're more beautiful than I remember." I was thinking, to be honest, it wasn't your looks that I remembered though it might have been the talk of fast cars and California. It was probably one of the most interesting and intriguing conversations I've ever had on a plane where usually I'm too grouchy to even acknowledge the stewardess plopping tiny bags of peanuts on my tray.

We had coffee at Le Pain Quotidien near Bryant Park. I wanted to be outside, it was a beautiful day, but something told me that would be too distracting for whatever we had to say to one another. He told me all about the date he had planned - he was going to take me sailing. Not on the Hudson but, to sail a toy boat on a pond in Central Park but in the end he was too nervous to suggest it. Then we discussed the benefit of a man who can propose a plan and make a decision. He honestly admitted it wasn't his strength. He was too easy going and probably too kind to ever suggest a woman do anything other than what she already had in mind. A part of me wishes he'd just had the courage to demand we go sailing...next time?

Our conversation then continued on the path of all the things you shouldn't say on a first date. We talked about our ex's and about their respective husbands and wives and how strange it is when there's that moment when you're no longer in their lives. And also about the secret meetings for coffee behind a spouse's back just so you can meet their baby or catch up alone and giggle about old times. Sure, it was weird date conversation but quite nice nonetheless.

We talked about how irresponsible it is of all our friends to get married and have babies and about how maybe we're both just too good to be with anyone else. Though he seems to be looking for the one, for the marriage and babies package and that could have something to do with the extra 10 years he has on me, the male biological clock or whatever.

He continuously told me how beautiful I am and how mature, how smart, sophisticated I am... it was sweet if not a little unsettling. He said he would totally tag a women like me but I am essentially out of his league. The fact that he said "tag" proves the case.

Then he tried to give me dating advice, genuinely trying to help me out I think but still...
1) Let the guy decide the date - I would if any guy could!
2) Try not to be so intimidating - as if I could help it.
3) Smile more - not a bad recommendation I guess.

Although I have no romantic interest in this fellow, I think if he lived on the east coast or I on the west, we'd probably be friends - that is at least until one of us got married.

Note

It's been over a month since my last post. My apologies. Between moving, starting a new job, changing jobs, finding a roommate, then finding a new roommate and trying to escape potential stalkers, I've been a little busy.

But coming soon are new posts to wet your appetite.

She's Just Not That Into You

As a girl, I've definitely had the time or two where I've stressed about why some idiot boy hasn't called me after a date or responded to a text message. I always tell myself it won't bother me or I can play that game and ignore them just as well as they can ignore me. But when a cute boy says he's going to call or text and doesn't, it's a pretty standard girl thing to flip out about it for a minute and loose all self confidence and control - that is until you meet the next cute boy and he promises to call.

I always say "I'd never do that", I would never NOT call someone back or ignore a text message....

What am I saying? Hell yeah I would!

One would think that guys could handle it, that if they ignore you, it's okay to ignore them, right?

The Climber (#10) texted me, a couple of days after our lousy 3rd date. I didn't respond. I figured he'd get it.

2 days later. Then he texted me again. I ignored it.

Maybe he thought the third time's the charm. And let me tell you - it wasn't. It was desperation, pathetic-ism. How come he couldn't get the hint? If I'm not responding to you, I'm just not into you! Isn't that the code?

His texts weren't just "how are you?" or "what's up?" they were paragraphs of "Hey, it's a beautiful day. What are you doing? Want to meet me and some friends for brunch on Saturday?" What would give this guy the idea I want to brunch with him AND his friends if I don't event want to respond to his text message!?

After the 5th text I politely responded: "Glad you're well but please stop texting me. I'm really not interested in any kind of intimate relationship right now with you or anyone else. It's nothing personal."
"How many other guys are you dating?"
"27. But I would hardly call us dating"
"Oh, yeah, me too. I'm keeping my options open"
"Great. Good luck. Good bye."

Memorial day weekend he texted me to invite me camping - camping for the whole weekend with him and his strange friends. I considered changing my phone number after that. Some people just never get the hint.

DATE #10: The French Say Goodbye Better

Obviously it's been a little while since I've written, and not for lack of material but rather a struggle to find the right way to express this particular experience.
This ladies and gentlemen is my 10th Date, and of my 10 dates, it is my third (and final) with The Climber (see Dates 6 and 8).

After our 2nd date I realized I felt relatively mediocre about this guy and didn't want to make out with him and definitely didn't want to take him home with me. Which for most people would be a sure sign that no fool would go on a third date, lucky for me I'm not most people though maybe a fool.

I thought, "Geez, you don't spend 9 hours on a date with someone, have a great time, and then suddenly there's nothing there?" I wasn't the only one to think so. All my friends, all of you, thought the same - "What is wrong with this girl!?"

I should know myself well enough to know that my first instinct is usually the correct one and I shouldn't second guess myself but I went on a third date with the Climber.

He wanted me to meet him at the Soho House for drinks and then we'd head to the movie theater to catch a Tribeca Film Fest flick. I was running late, not because I was busy but because I was watching an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer on Netflix and wanted to see make sure Buffy defeated the evil snake monster from Hell. She did. And I was late enough not to meet at the Soho House and instead we met at East of 8th, a bar/restaurant next to the Chelsea Cinemas.

I was so emotionally fatigued from watching Buffy save the world (and a major hangover from a previous night of drinking) that I decided not to drink when we met at the bar. Just seeing this guy for a third time, sealed the deal that this was not meant to be. All I had to do was fake nice for the night and it'd be over so I could go back to Netflix On Demand....

I had a ginger ale, he something with vodka; we sat surrounded by sexy Gay men and I think I sensed some insecurity from my date. He talked about his week at work and some swanky celeb party he photographed the night before. I listened to the Gay couple nearest us discuss the decor of their friend's new home in the Bahamas... He tried to touch my hand and I checked a watch that wasn't on my wrist. It was too loud in the bar to talk.

After our brief drinks, we got in line to wait for rush tickets for the Tribeca Film Fest. If you've never gone to a festival screening, the wait is long. To ensure tickets, you really have to stand in line an hour before the film and even then there is no guarantee you'll get a seat. We decided to wait for the French film MICMACS by Jean-Pierre Jeunet (Amelie).

For over an hour we stood in line. He talked and I imagined his head popping off and spinning round a few times, that would be more entertaining than whatever he was talking about. I noticed his iPhone, I've been considering the switch from Blackberry to iPhone for some time (and since have). On his iPhone he had an interesting quote: "Remember you are standing on a rock floating through space".

I thought for a second, that's a nice little quote, but then it hit me another way - what a morbid thing to say. Why would you carry around a constant reminder that you're insignificant? Needless to say, this struck up some mighty conversation, and mighty loud too. I took the side of "Well, I'm not insignificant!" and he took the "We all are!" We argued for about 15 minutes on the significance of being reminded that we're all insignificant - how is that a positive idea? If everyday you were reminded, like an alarm on your iPhone, that you're just a nothing standing on a rock floating in space - what would be the point of life at all? Wouldn't you just find the nearest bridge and jump? He said no, it inspired him.

Obviously a difference in point of view this huge means any relationship is doomed to fail. Which was fine with me. He continued to try and tell me that he just loves me and my ability to stand my ground. I just stood in line silently and watched a lesbian couple make out in front of us and thought, maybe this would be easier if I liked girls.

I probably should have left then but we managed to get the last two tickets for the screening and I really love Jeunet's films so we continued our fun on to the movie. Since we got the last two tickets, we also got the last two seats - metal folding chairs. He was disappointed the folding chairs weren't conducive to cuddling and I couldn't be more thankful.

After the movie (which was fantastic by the way), I should have just been my honest self and just told the poor schmuck I wasn't interested. But I didn't. I said thanks for the movie and slipped away in the train...

Don't worry, my consequences are coming.

DATE #9: Ice Cream Connoisseur

This guy is from Jersey, which normally I discard without a second glance, but I guess in the whole online process I overlooked his location without double checking. I mean, with all the profiles and questions and messages and crap in the world of online dating, how ca you keep track of every communication!?

This gentlemen is a IT guy who actually lives AND works in Jersey and came all the way into the city on a Monday night to have ice cream with me.

We had ice cream because he bragged about being an ice cream connoisseur. He also bragged about being named after the King, but he didn't have the presence of any King, Rock and Roll or any other.

We met at Red Mango on 14th street, yeah, the Frozen yogurt place - doesn't quite qualify as the best ice cream in town but...

He told me he'd be late, but arrived early and thus I was late. He made me feel bad about the 3 dollar tea he had to buy while he sat in wait. We got in line for frozen yogurt and received a wild tutorial from the guy behind the counter. He explain each flavor and the combinations possible with the millions of toppings.

King Connoisseur couldn't decide what he wanted. I ordered a small wild peach and green tea with raspberries and white chocolate chips. He ordered an extra large vanilla with strawberries. Vanilla with Strawberries! He was supposed to be the ice cream connoisseur!

We discussed the weather for 10 minutes, work for 12 minutes, apartment hunting in New York for 5 minutes and blackberry vs. iphone for about another 7 minutes. After these 35 minutes of terribly exciting conversation, we had a few moments of silence before we started discussing work conference calls...

I was done my ice cream, and oh! gosh! I need to get home to bed early because I have an early day tomorrow...

He invited me to join him and some friends for dinner and dancing (on a Monday!) but I kindly declined being as, we just spent an awful 40 minutes of lousy conversation over mediocre frozen yogurt...

And we said a polite goodnight.

But by the time I got home, I had 4 text messages:
"had a great time, so nice to meet you!"
"can't wait to see you again, you should have come out with me tonight"
"next time we'll go to dinner and dancing"
"have a good night & sweet dreams"

What did I do to deserve this?

DATE #8: A First 2nd Date

After almost two months and 7 dates, I have made it to a second date, finally. Well, I guess that's an accomplishment...

This second date was perhaps nearly as good as my first with the Climber and probably should be considered one of the great dates you read about in Cosmo or something. But, you know there's a But coming...

We met in the early afternoon at Brooklyn Boulders to actually go rock climbing (well, rock climbing on a wall). He was late, by about twenty minutes, and I'd already paid for my gear. In the time I waited, I started to get annoyed that maybe I'd been stood up - as soon as I decided I was going to climb without him, he shows, a little too excited to see me.

After a quick refresher course on the ropes, I braved the wall first, trying to remember how to tie my knots so I wouldn't fall... The Climber, is well, a very savvy climber having worked in a climbing gym for some time and actually having climbed real mountains - but I made a pretty good go for the top of a 5.9 (on a scale of 5.5 to 6). We had some laughs as I relearned belaying and nearly killed my date trying to hold his weight on the ropes as he climbed faster than I could pull the rope taught.

We climbed for a couple of hours, he was constantly trying to get me to improve my technique and stop cursing every time I slipped from a hold (which was often). We made fun of the 8-year-olds who climbed like pros though it was more to make me feel better than to diss their abilities.

When we reached the point we could no longer feel our fingers, we decided to walk around the Slope and grab some dinner. Of course I hadn't thought to bring a change of clothes so although the Climber changed into clean slacks and a button down, I was trekking around in my climbing gear covered in chalk.

We walked around the Slope talking about why modern marriages don't work and a current NY Times article that included a research comparison of couples who married for love versus arranged marriages - the arranged marriages worked just as well, sometimes better...

Instead of a nice romantic Italian dinner, we went for burgers, fries and beer (I don't even like beer!) and talked about whether or not babies should be brought to bars (someone had a baby next to us in the bar, very strange).

All was going well - can you see any wrong here? You'd think climbing and dinner would be a long enough date but, no we decided to go for ices too!

Although the night was beginning to be chilly, we walked with our ices to the Prospect Park Pavilion Movie Theater and he bought two tickets for Hot Tub Time Machine. Never thought I'd see that.

The movie was hysterical, I laughed like a hyena and the Climber didn't seem to be bother by the fact I was the loudest in the theater, not that I cared. Of course he seemed more interested in trying to hold my hand and slip his arm around my shoulder all during the movie, very 10th grade.

After the movie, I was all set and ready to go home, I was only a few short blocks away... but the Climber wanted to go for drinks. I thought he was nuts, was 8 hours of my company long enough? I can hardly stand myself for that long, how could he?

As we walked towards the subway, I tried to be sweet and girlie and thank him for the lovely day. He tried to hold my hand and put his arm around me and kiss my face and suddenly I wasn't into him.

At the subway he tried to convince me again that we should go for drinks or maybe I should let him walk me all the way home. I kindly said no thanks, I'm a big girl. Then he tried to kiss me and it was like kissing the back of my hand, only my hand kisses better... I pulled away without trying to make it a big deal and he tried to pull me back. I did the whole fake cough thing and then pecked his cheek with a goodnight. I figured that was an easy let down... right?

The next day I followed up with a Thank you text, and well, didn't hear back.

It's not my fault if even after a great date I don't feel it, is it?
Plus side is I made it to a second date!

DATE #7: Date or Job Interview?

It's one thing to set a coffee date for a Sunday afternoon where two perspective mates can connect over lattes without the stress of work, but its something else completely to plan to meet at 3pm in the middle of the work week. And something else to meet where Tribeca hits the Financial district and the coffee is hand brewed at $3.56 (for a small) and everyone around you is in a business suit having a business meeting...

This is where I met an entertainment lawyer, who maybe could afford not to use a credit card for the $3.56 small decaf, who was supposed to be my afternoon date. I say "supposed" because afterwards I had doubts as to whether or not I met with the right person.

So you get the picture of me and this lawyer meeting at a swanky Tribeca coffee shop full of business people. Granted, this guy wasn't wearing a suit but a stripped polo straight out of Harry Potter. His photo showed him thin with blond hair yet he was heavier with very dark hair. He was a little late so I bought myself a coffee to start and wait. He gave me this annoyed look/feeling that I bought coffee ahead of him and that maybe, right off the start, I wasn't what he was expecting either. I have to say though, I looked good - you can ask anyone.

We sat down and talked for a minute about the weird art on the coffee shop walls, about Tribeca and then the date started to feel like an interview - but I still don't know which one of us was up for what job.

Apparently he's not a working lawyer at the moment, though he said he's "gone out on his own" and wants to work with the movie biz, maybe. So I told him about the movie biz and all the contracts I've worked with and negotiated and he would respond with legal jargon about cast contracts and riders he's worked with. It felt like a competition - who has read more contracts? Who's negotiated more interested things and for what? Cast? Locations? Prop rentals...

He didn't ever really look at me (and I looked HOT! for a Monday afternoon), he wasn't much to look at either but I believe you should look at the person you're talking to, whether or not they're cute - it's a respect thing.

He gave me his list of credits: educated at a college I've never heard of; law school somewhere else I've never heard of; internships at law firms that mean nothing to me and a job he "lost for budget reasons" that was for a well known broadcast TV company. I rattled off a few of mine, he was beat - I have just as much experience reading contracts and more in the film industry that he could ever imagine achieving.... yes, I was very annoyed at the conversation turning into a competition, can you tell? That's why I had to win.

I tried to switch the subject in my sweet girlie voice: "so what do you like to do for fun? on weekends?" His answer was lame - "well, working for myself every day is a weekend". Which I resent because I work for myself and I have a strict schedule: gym, coffee, emails, accounts, lunch, walk in park, emails, editing doc, nap, grant research, dinner... you get my drift.

Oh, and we talked about movies and what kind of director film kids want to be - Tarantino or Cameron? Like I care?

A little after an hour, we were both out of coffee and each peeling the paper skins from our cups out of boredom. We spent five minutes talking about apartment hunting, suddenly he got the idea that maybe he should be a broker. I said, "Good luck with that".

We shook hands and walked in opposite directions.

DATE #6: Gallery Hopping

I don't usually plug dating websites but there's this new one...yeah, they're not paying me so I won't plug them on principle - but it's based on matching people with common activity interests rather than a personality test. Basically you propose a date activity and people with a similar interest in that activity respond.

The first activity that struck me was rock climbing at a local Brooklyn gym.

My activity proposal was to go gallery hopping in Chelsea and hit up the free drinks at the openings.

Ironically, the Climber and I responded to each other's activities and thus decided to risk a meeting. Rather than the usual coffee or drinks or dinner we actually went on the proposed activity - without consulting in depth personality comparisons, responding to a million questionnaires or weeks of messaging.

We met at an art gallery opening on 25th street, said a standard "hello, nice to meet you" and then entered the gallery which housed an exhibition that animated LED lights behind photographs to make moving images - we bonded over the free wine and the thought maybe the artist would have be been better served to make a film rather than animate lights over lousy still frames...

After criticizing art in the first gallery, we decided to hit up a few more - 6 actually. So six glasses of free wine and 6 fairly terrible art exhibits. We spent most of the time wondering why a canvas with the word "Yes" marked in gold glitter was considered the centerpiece of the most crowded exhibition we saw - which was in fact all canvases covered in colored glitter. Seriously?

I have to say, we enjoyed our gallery tour immensely and continued on to dinner - where we actually talked. We went to Co. pizza joint where they have shared tables and we spent most of dinner yelling across the table about work and politics and movies and pizza... The restaurant became exceedingly crowded and thus we decided not to stay there for dessert but rather to grab an ice cream elsewhere.

We walked down to the Highline where I took off my high heels and he carried them as we talked about on-line dating and architecture. Then security came by and said the park was closed and we were trespassing. Surprisingly enough, neither of us felt like going home - our date had started early, it was barely 10:30.

It turned out my date was a member of the Soho House, a private/membership only hotel/bar/club... We had drinks on the rooftop, poolside. The waiter not only brought lousy overpriced drinks but brought cashmere blankets. We counted 1 star and the rest of the sky was clouds.

To show off, he took me down to show me the private screening room - where I've actually been before as I had a friend who worked for the club. But to boost his ego I let him show me around. We snuck into the projection booth where I explained how the film reels were loaded (to the best of my knowledge) into the projectors and he stole a kiss.

Yes, he stole a kiss and I didn't slap him.

Afterwards, I let him walk me across town to the subway, disappointing him as he pointed out his apartment building and I kept walking past. I did however let him kiss me goodnight and ask me out again but as by the time I was on the train, I was regretting it. Thinking as great a date as this all was, do I really have to see him again?

DATE #5: Le Cirque de Dates

On-line, Mr. Le Cirque and I were only a 74% match but how can you turn down a date with a guy who's in Circle du Soleil?

Happy hour drinks and appetizers on a Wednesday evening. We met at Thompson Sq Park and Mr. Le Cirque took me to some vegetarian restaurant called veggie delite or delight or something.

We ordered cocktails made with cucumbers and wheatgrass, snacked on raw almonds and ordered some tofu rolls that tasted like lettuce wrapped dirt balls.

Conversation was anything but easy flowing. We talked primarily about Cirque du Soleil - I saw it in Vegas and thought it was just SO spectacular. He said, "well, yeah, it's a good job", then he proceeded to show me how he could dislocate his shoulder as part of this Cirque dance... and well... we never made it to dinner because frankly, seeing someone dislocate shoulder is not terribly appetizing. And, there didn't seem much else to say.

That's pretty much all I have to say about that.

DATE #4: Mr. Shrinking Head

It's a bad sign when 5 minutes into a date I'm looking for a way out.

This guy seemed harmless enough, despite that he was the potential date I wrote about in my previous post - the one who wouldn't stop emailing, calling or texting me... and that was before we met. Should have tipped me off.

Story goes - Girl walks into a bar, she's early and sits to wait. He's late and when he walks in, she tries to get his attention but he walks right by. When he wakes from zombie-like state and says hello, his head shrinks into his head a little either in fear or discomfort.

He goes to the bar for drinks, waits 5 minutes while the bartender listens to a story being told to her by another patron, and comes back to the table empty handed. He didn't want to interrupt the bartender to get us drinks. I repeat: he didn't want to interrupt!

Once we got a waitress to serve our table, it takes the guy 10 minutes to pick a beer - he wanted to try something different - 10 minutes! I ordered a jack and ginger.

We then spent some time discussing the weather, and how much I travel and how much I work and really, I tired quickly of talking about me. He consistently told me how boring his life is (which really isn't a plus) and how he's so easy going that he doesn't really care to change anything (also not an attractive quality). Then we talked about families - mostly mine - and when I mentioned what my father does (something to do with pharmaceutical testing and running a global lab), he asked if I could help him get a job with his company (he works for a similar company only 10 billion times smaller). I thought, well that's not very classy, we just met and you want me to help you get a job at my father's company but you just admitted that you're lazy...? Huh?

When we finally seemed to be running out of things to say, he decided to explain to me how the game of Baseball is played (as the Yankees and Red Sox were playing on the bar TV tonight), as if I cared. Finally we were waiting for the check and sitting silently watching the 9th inning (which is the last inning of a baseball game if you didn't know... but it's a tie so they'll keep playing till someone scores and wins).

He paid. Then we walked outside and awkwardly hugged goodbye and good riddance! The kicker was when he said my name, to say goodbye, he said it wrong! And he didn't even offer to walk me home - two blocks away - which is fine but he should have offered. Before I've walked to two blocks home though, I have a text that says "Had a great time! Good Night ;)"

I'm thinking: Were we just on the same date? Dense much?

Am I creating false hopes? I think I'm pretty honest and it was pretty evident that we didn't click, that I was bored and by the end he seemed it too... or maybe he was so preoccupied seeing a future working at a great global company and watching baseball that he forgot I was staring daggers all evening. Even the waitress noticed.

DATE #3: Sarcastic Sam*

Those who know me personally, know that I can be quite sarcastic from time to time (or rather all the time) and often it's difficult to distinguish where I draw the line.

Sarcasm as a trait in a man is essential for me. Often described as a defense mechanism against criticism, sarcasm is my humor, not accepted by all but all mine nonetheless. So in my handy dandy profile, I've marked it as mandatory.

Thus meet Sam*: 32, Lawyer, said he was 6'2" but is only 5'7" and starts his first message to me with "I'm not a murderer so you should call me." My response was "if by chance you are a murderer, I don't want to be the one to call you because then I'm an accomplice."

So he called me and I didn't call back for 4 days. Not that I was playing hard to get on purpose, I was just busy. But I called him back and we spoke for about 30 minutes without saying one non-sarcastic truthful thing, which I'll admit, was kind of fun.

What's not fun is actually meeting and spending two hours trying to be honest and not being able to figure out what's sarcasm and what's not.

We met at a Tribeca bar, but not a super swanky kind - he was under-dressed and I was overdressed. I could tell instantaneously that there was no spark - I was taller than him in heels (I was wearing the heels not him).

We sat and talked about his job at the DA's office and about my friends in the mob (which apparently you shouldn't talk about with an assistant DA....) We talked about having people whacked and buying up New York City property with the billions of dollars he didn't have. We talked about how I'd make an awesome Juror since I have such high expectations and a severe moral code. He was very disappointed I don't live in Manhattan so I could be on one of his Grand Juries.

Then we discussed what we were looking for, and being two straight up people - I said I wasn't sure but that I definitely wouldn't be sleeping with him and he said he was into a friends with benefits. Obviously this wasn't going to work out for either of us.

I'll give the guy credit for being forward enough to admit the truth, even overshadowed by blind sarcasm, and for being funny enough to let me laugh at him. He walked me to the train, we took the same line in opposite directions, and he didn't seem to be crying too hard when hit him that there was no chance to get in my pants.

Should I feel bad for leading him on? I'm not sure I do. At least I didn't make him buy me dinner.

*Name changed for protection.

Dream Phone: Does a Phone Date count?

Remember that game from the early nineties? The one where there's a hot pink phone and you call all these boys to listen for clues and decipher which one likes you - he plays football and likes hanging out at the mall - it's Brad! You always want it to be Brad!

Well who would have thought 20 years later, here I am again playing Dream Phone again and hoping all the clues do lead to someone even better than Brad!

Talking on the phone to get to know someone feels so 1990 but it seems to be making a come back. More than one perspective date has asked me to set aside some phone time so we can "chat". The conversations consist of me working on my computer with my blackberry ear piece in, waiting for the guy on the other end to say something slightly funny so I can give a little half laugh. Usually we talk about their day, oh, they went out to lunch that's great. I made a peanut butter and jelly. Sometimes we talk about the weather or what we like to do on the weekends and yeah I'm tired today because I stayed up to late...

How much can you tell about a person through their voice? Or their inability to carry on an interesting phone conversation? I think these phone talks are uncomfortable because I'm being asked to be charming and likable to someone I don't know. It's different with work, I've been told I "give good phone", I have a sweet and professional voice when I'm talking business to an unknown. But if I know you, it's a different story. So, how can all these phone conversations really be helping these guys get a better sense of me? Or I them?

And just because we have a few laughs on the phone about my sarcastic tone and your illegal extended lunch breaks so you can call me... doesn't mean I'm going to jump into your arms when I meet you. Because, frankly, you aren't Brad on the other end of my dream phone.

But do these phone dates count as dates? Should they? If I have to schedule the time and actually pay attention when you talk about your Grandma's 80th birthday party last Sunday, shouldn't that count as a date? Then do we really even have to meet if I can tell by your voice it's not going to work out...?

Alright, of course we'll meet - at the Mall!

Communication 202

Dear Mr. Potential Date,

Isn't it great that we've met through this cheesy online dating service and now we've made it through dozens of questionnaires that say we're a perfect match? Isn't it great that now we are left to communicate on our own, without the question suggestions and sentence starters?

I know! So wonderful that there is such a thing as gchat so we can instant message all throughout the work day and you can interrupt my every hour!? Isn't that just great! Yeah, I know I work from home so my schedule is kind of freer than yours... oh yeah, maybe we shouldn't gchat between 9am and 6pm so that you (and I) can get some work done. I know, it's so great to gchat but you know, we can email!

Yes! I just love receiving your one sentence emails, back and forth throughout the day, it's just like gchatting but not! Awesome, really.

What's that you say? You feel like you know me because of the way I write, aw how sweet. Yes, I am a funny writer, no, not sarcastic at all. Oh, you fell for my photo? How nice, just wait till you meet me - I'm all personality and no looks. Oh, now you want to call me on your lunch break, sure, why not? Take up another hour of my day because the two we spent gchatting and 3 we spent emailing has not taken up enough it's been lovely...

Yeah, it is pretty easy to talk to me since I do all the talking. Yes, my job is interesting. Yes, my walk in the park was nice. Yes, I got all your emails on my Blackberry while walking in the park. Yes, it's cool you went to the Ice hotel in Sweden, I'm sure that was really cool - I saw the pictures on your profile. Yes, I l liked your profile, you were honest about wanting kids in the next 2-3 years. No, I don't know if I want them that soon.

But what the hell, Sure, I'll go for a drink.
(Damn this blog and stupid mission)

Cheers!
G*

Hiatus

As you may have noticed, I haven't had a 3rd date yet and it's been well over a week (ok, 2, but who's counting?).

After my 2nd date, I took a brief hiatus and went traveling about on a documentary shoot in Tunisia, a place I've always dreamed of going.

When I was maybe 18 or 19, I started having this dream about traveling to Tunisia. In my dream, I was making a film there and I was staying in this small hotel painted all white with blue accents. My room had a little balcony overlooking the Mediterranean from a hill top. There were white curtains always moving in the slightest cool breeze, the sun was warm and the sky the most perfect shade of blue. I dreamed of meeting my perfect man there - in the lobby of my hotel, we laughed and that was it, I was hopelessly, foolishly in love.

But that was just a dream.

In reality, I was traveling in a country where women can't sit at a cafe alone, where I had to fake marriage to my DP so I wouldn't be dragged off into the desert by Bedouins. And while my dream took place in the very real Sidi Bouh Saiid, my reality was Douz - a dusty town not unlike Mos Eisley on Tatouine in Star Wars.

I'm not complaining, it was an exceptional journey. But, when I looked out into the vast expanse of the never-ending Sahara desert, after years of dreaming about this place I'd never known, I couldn't help but think the reason I dreamed of this place is because I am filled with sand. Perhaps, I am a desert that goes on beyond the horizon and never meets the blue of the sky....

Before I left, I had an interesting conversation with a friend of mine who asked me what my goal really was in pursuing that crazy "27 dates" mission. I said I wanted to meet new people (she saw right through that). So I revised: I wanted to prove myself right - that there isn't a man out there that can handle all that I am, that there isn't a man for me. Well, going into this with that kind of attitude - of course I'm going to prove myself right because it means I'm not really open to being proved wrong. But really, I don't want to prove anything.

Let's be honest. Standing in the middle of the Sahara can feel like you're standing in the loneliest place on earth, but even there, you're not alone. There are plants here and there, there are scorpions and snakes and camels and Bedouins. There is the sky and the sun and at night - the most vast expanse of stars you've ever seen. And the moon. So really, I don't want to be alone. And as much as I hate to admit it to myself (and all of you), I'm just a fool looking for love in all the wrong places (the Sahara being one of them). And I just want someone to share the adventure with me.

So I still have 17 weeks (117 days) left and I'm determined to keep pushing forward on my mission - 25 dates to go! If a bush can grow in the Sahara, than there has to be one man willing to face the desert with me and I'm going to find him (someone should probably warn him).

DATE #2: The Brunch Politico

I've always thought Brunch is the perfect time to go on a date. It's not too early nor too late and I'm usually wide awake (which apparently makes me rhyme).

This particular date had never been on a brunch date before, well neither had I actually... And sometimes there's a reason why some ideas are only good in theory. First off, 3:00pm is a lousy meeting time. If I haven't been up all night and wanting to sleep in, then by 3pm I've already been up since 8 and working on something or other and now you've just broken up my day and made me drop everything and run into the city for a date!

At least the dress is casual and there's no worry about whether or not my black pants match my black shirt... jeans and a t-shirt suit just fine with a little rouge-a-levre. I'll give credit to this guy for actually putting on a clean shirt, looking like he just came from work. However, he immediately lost major points for not matching his profile pic at all - I mean he said he was 6'2 and was hardly a 5'6 in person.

'The Politico' picked a simple Spanish restaurant where we had the intention to only meet for drinks. However, they were serving brunch and in poor form, neither of us had eaten before hand. That might have been a trick on both our parts... I know for me I was thinking "if he's cute I'm totally in for a meal". He wasn't but at least he paid.

He ordered a pitcher of sangria, not a half pitcher, a whole. And before we reached the 2nd glass, and even before I food came out, we had a "friendly" disagreement about the State of Israel. A great way to start a first date, let me tell you! Thus his nick name 'The Politico', he actually keeps up with politics in a way that, well, I don't and that's kind of a turn off for me... We spent most of the meal discussing whether or not it was alright for a country to be founded on religion and who is right and wrong in the middle east and why the news is good and bad and how politics (and money) runs the world! I'll give him credit for actually arguing against me, he doesn't know me so I guess he wasn't afraid... And I was sitting in the booth too squished to get up and leave halfway through.

When we finally switched subjects, it was all about work. He's in real estate development and does for buildings what I do for movies. I'll admit, I actually found that to be interesting but he didn't seem impressed with what he does and a guy who doesn't have passion for his work, probably won't have passion too many other places in his life.... For not being an impressive person physically, he did show me a building he developed into a multi-million dollar hotel - and that was impressive.

At the end of brunch he said he liked that I was argumentative and feisty and I kind of got the feeling he just liked a woman in charge, wouldn't matter who - he even liked that the waitress was pushy. I, of course, am not interested in dominating another beast and though I think under other circumstances he was just interesting enough to be friends, there wasn't enough to even want to see him again.