Delayed Details

Hey, gang!  I ended up on the phone with Steven for 2.5 hours last night (my writing time), so no story about Sunday's Super Bowl party just yet.  Promise...it's coming.  I was getting a little concerned that he wasn't calling me so I texted:

E: Hey, do you miss me yet?
S: Uhm....no! :)
S: Of course I do, babe!

So then I called him, hoping he would feel more confidence in calling me.  All I can say is that we laugh as much over the phone as in person, and he shared his entrepreneurial ideas with me.  I told him I am more than happy to guide him through it, but I'm not going to become a girl he pity dates so I can help him with his business ideas.  He laughed.  Much like the guy I dated who, once he met my cat, really just came over to hang out and love on her.  She's extraordinary, no doubt, but I felt like a single mom whose boyfriend was afraid to break up with her because he loves her child more than her. 

So, I'm off to Pittsburgh.  Whether I will go to Chuck's viewing is still up in the air (he's from Pitt).  I don't do viewings very well.  Maybe it's just me, but I don't get the concept of "the viewing".  I don't want my last memory of him to be in a coffin.  We'll see.....but I'm doubting it.

Steven is picking me up at the airport tomorrow night and has a plan for the weekend.  I like a man with a plan.  I think I'll ask if he has a plan for me - via "He's Just Not That Into You" (aka one of my bibles!)

Cheers and details to come!

xoxo

Steven Opens Up....

You should all be relieved.  I felt SO different with Steven tonight and even better by the end of the night. It was amazingly comfortable and easy.   

He picked me up at 5:40p and, as per usual, I was ready to go and peering out my living room blinds for him.  I watch him park his car and get out wearing that DAMNED fur hat!  Ugh, I hate that thing!  We head to the grocery to pick a few items for the dinner I was making him - Seared Scallops with thin multi-grain spaghetti with tomatoes, garlic, Parmesan and olive oil accompanied by spring greens lightly drizzled in olive oil.  At the store, he followed me, as I walk very fast and determined.  I had several things for this recipe already at home, packed them in a recyclable grocery bag and brought it with.  Produce, fish counter, dairy and wine and head to the self check out.  I ring everything up and the clerk says "Do you have ID."  I turn my back to show her my ID and then carefully place it back in my python card case.  As I turn around, Steven is running his card through the machine to buy the food.  "This was supposed to be my treat."  "I know, but I wanted to." "Okay, that's very nice of you," I whisper "but you didn't have to." He looks at me and smiles.

Back towards the car and Steven grabs my hand again.  He's always, always holding my hand.  We get in the car and make the trek back to his house.  As we drive in the snow we spin and turn - this guy knows how to drive! "I love this car.  All wheel drive rocks!" I laugh at his purely manly enthusiasm as I grip the card door hand thinking it will actually protect me in an impact.  I'm more concerned about the other people on the road then Steven.

As we pull up to his house, the street is clearly a mess and yet he just plows right through it all.  In Chicago there is this long standing tradition that once you've done the hard work of digging yourself out of the snow, you reserve the spot with a broom, folding chair, desks, you know, whatever happens to be handy.  This street is no different.  It's comical, really, until someone steals your stuff and your parking space.  Once inside and stripped of all wet outerwear, I head to the kitchen and begin taking everything out of the bags and positioning them on the table island.  He opens the wine while I take roasted pepper hummus and spread it on a plate, microwave for 20 seconds, drizzle some olive oil, fan multi-grain and flax seed crackers around it and present it to him as The Appetizer.  He loves it and comes around to give me a hug as thanks....with a mini make out.

As I get everything ready his idle hands are all over me and I decide it's time to put them to work, "You'll manage the pasta, because I know you've got that down, and I'll do the rest." "Ok," he says with an attempt at another make out.  "Get to work!!"  I grab the tomatoes and garlic and ask him for a knife.  Boy does he have a knife.  Chef grade.  It sliced through a tomato perfectly.  "This is an amazing knife.  Where did you get it."  "Work." "Oh right because you need to have them for work." Laugh. "No the sales reps come in to sell to the airport restaurants.  I bought a few."  "Oh, yeah, that makes sense." "Hold that thought."  He comes back moments later with another knife, exactly like the one I'm holding except with a black handle.  "Get your grimy hands off my knife!"  uhm...what? "This is for you." "But I have one." "No, this is yours.  I want you to have it." uhm, that's like a $100 knife, dude. "I really can't.  Yes, you will. I'll set it over here for you." "Thank you!"

While I'm chopping I ask:

E:  "So, I don't mind the texting, but why don't you call me.  Not a phone guy?"
S: He smiles. "It's not that I haven't wanted to, I just don't know when you're busy."
E: "Well, if I'm busy I won't answer!"
S: He laughs.  "Yeah, simple as that."
E: "So tell me something about you that I don't know." I look up to the smirk-smile.  "What?" I say "Entertain me while I'm doing this."
S: "Okay, I moved around from school to school growing up.  Later I worked at the Chicago Board of Trade for 10 years from the age of 18-28."
E: "Wow, were you a runner?"
S: "I started off as a runner."
E: "And then you just decided it wasn't fulfilling enough?"
S: "Yeah, I guess that's it. And yyoooouuu??"
E: "Well, I spent most of my life as a performer - dance, theater, singing, and such.  I went to school on scholarship to sing and loved it.  I feel that I'm an instrument for this amazing music.  It wasn't about me, and that came back to hurt me.  I was raised to be far too modest and I lacked all Divaness.  Then I asked myself if I wanted to teach - no - or do I want to wait tables in New York auditioning with 20,000 girls who look and sound like me?  Not really.  Not to say I wasn't unique. I was small, petite with a huge voice that could be heard over a 200-piece orchestra and 150-person choir.  I loved it, still do, but have no regrets about changing my major to journalism.  I simply didn't have the 'I have to do this to live' feeling in my gut.  I do miss it. After I lost my scholarship I worked as a waitress and bartender to help pay my tuition."

Steven comes around the table, takes the knife from my hand and gives me a big hug.  "Ouch!" "What," he stops suddenly.  "My back, from shoveling yesterday.  It's really sore."  "Well, I will give you a massage to make it feel better."  I smile.

I decide to cook all of the scallops so he can eat them for leftovers.  When it was all complete, I prepared each plate and we go into the living room to sit at the big ass table to eat.  He digs in and is loving it.  "This is so good." "I know, and it's so easy, don't you think?"  "Hhmmmm..."  That was pretty much the rest of the meal until I look up and find a huge stuffed giraffe staring at me. " Uhm..." he looks at me. "Giraffe???"  He laughs.  "You like that?  When restoration hardware was having their bankruptcy sales I bought it for my niece and nephew." "So why isn't it at their house?"  "They wanted to keep it here so they have something to play with."  "Ahhh..."

I gotta give it to Steven.  He downed six big scallops, salad and pasta, clearing his plate.  I say, "I'm stuffed.  It would be great to go take a walk."  "Okay, let's." "Seriously?" "Yeah."  So we bundle up in our outwear and head out to walk around the block in the frigid temps.  "You should wear your knit cap it will keep you warmer." "I'm fine," as he puts on ear covers and that stupid fur hat!

It's cold but it feels good. We talk about his neighborhood as I point out interesting architectural and design elements I see.  "It's changed a lot since I moved in," he says. "I used to hear gunshots all the time."  "Didn't that scare you?" "Nah, I'm a better shot." I suddenly wonder where he leaves his gun in the house.  (Sidebar: I did do some more research and he is a Marshall whose assignment is on the ground.) Instead of turning right to make the walk around the block complete he says "Turn left". We turn left and come upon the park.  Steven lives a good three to four miles from the lakefront but he's right by a huge park with lagoon, tennis courts, softball fields and more.  I've seen it in the summer and it's actually quite beautiful.  No doubt the park is empty but the drive through it is clear and we make that our path.  At one point he let's go of my right hand, stops, I keep walking, and then comes up on my left grabbing that hand.  Nice.  A real gentleman always walks on the outside of a lady.  Nice!

We decide to cross the street and venture into the area, which is normally grass, towards the softball field.  There was two feet of snow and we were like moose picking up each leg up and out of the snow.  By the time we stop, we're both winded.  We stand there for a few minutes inhaling the cold air and enjoy the quite beauty and he wraps his arms around me.  We decide to go.

S: "Let's go this way," and he starts to pull me to the right.
E: "Uhm, let's not."  While we were standing there, I saw a guy stumble into the snow towards a tree.
S: "Why?"
E: "Cuz that guy is peeing on the tree over there." Chicago has embraced public urination!
S:  He laughs. "Yeah, okay."

We walk through the softball field to the road, passing the most beautiful snow angels, and he again steps to the outside of me. Nice. About 10 minutes later we're back in the warmth of his house, of which he actually turned the heat up.  Snow is everywhere and we carefully undress and he turns his neck to reveal a crick.  I start to massage it and he leads me into his bedroom.

When he opens the door I see a huge four-banister bed with matching light wood strips linking the tops, perfect for a mosquito net.  It's not a large room, as is very traditional in old Chicago homes, but somehow he's managed to cram his office desk and a huge, tall metal filing cabinet in.  This guy needs a woman's touch!  The mattress, Tempurpedic.  Awesome!  He lays down and I massage his neck and back.  The more I rub his shoulders through the shirt, the more crinkling noise I hear...and feel.  BACK HAIR!!!  Seriously??? Really?  COME ON!!  Sooner or later we switch, I pull off my turtle neck after working up a small sweat massaging his tight back, and lay in my tank top and leggings. He starts to give my back the massage it's been crying for all day, except he can't rally stay focused.  He continues to lean down to kiss my neck and shoulders.  "Hey, I'm serious, I need this!" It was a generous massage lasting about 15 minutes.  Afterwards we lie on the bed, making out and talking.

S: "So what is your hesitation?"
E: "What? With sex?"
S: "Yeah"
E: "I promised myself I would do it right this time, that I wouldn't jump into anything."
S: "Why?"
E: "Because that's what I've done in the past and the relationships didn't have substance."
S: "What were they?"
E: "I dressed up well for parties and dinners out; I looked good for their friends.  We never talked and they never seemed interested in me."
S: "Oh." Make out.
S: "Tell me about your first boyfriend."
E: I laugh. "My first boyfriend lasted about 10 minutes.  He was my first kiss." We played around as I imitated the reenactment of my first kiss.  Hilarious.  I was actually in fifth grade..... "Yours?"
S: "It was ninth grade and I started dating this girl.  My brother met her and said 'dude, you can do so much better than that!', but all of my friends had girlfriends and I wanted one too.  So I got one."  We laugh.  "So tell me about your last relationship."
E: "He was the first in a long time to treat me with respect.  He was super sweet to me, wanted to court me and I felt I deserved it.  Then he dropped a bombshell that I just couldn't help him with."
S: "What do you mean"
E: "He told me he was in recovery"
S: "For what?"
E: "Alcohol mostly but I often wondered if there was something harder.  It was sad. He had just recently gotten out of rehab for the second time." I didn't go into more details.
S: "Oh."
E: "Are you uncomfortable that I am not jumping into sex with you?"
S: "Well, no, but for me it defines everything."
E: "What do you mean? That it means that we're officially together?"
S: "Yes." He says with a smile.  So, you're eager to take me off the market??  LOL  He kisses me and the looks linger. He softly touches my face. "Do you still have your online profile up?"
E: "Yes, but I haven't checked it in awhile. Do you?"
S: "No. I took it down."
E: "Why?"
S: "Because I really like you."
E: "So what did you think the other night when I didn't want to come into the bedroom with you?"
S: "I just thought you hadn't made your choice yet."
Silence.
E: "I suppose I'm just looking for someone who will be patient with me. Who will make me laugh."
S: "I can do that." And with those words he rolled me on to my back, lifted up my tank top and gave me a huge zurburt on the stomach.  I laughed and laughed.
E: I catch my breath as he lies down next to me. "I like that you asked and we talked about this.  Keep talking to me. Deal?"
S: "Always."

The conversation and making out continued until I finally drew the line and said I have to go home.

I felt exponentially better knowing where his head was at, and I'm sure he feels better as well.  I think it was feeling the pressure of sex that had me feeling like I was out of control; as if I'd lose him if I didn't, and I don't like that.  We've only been on FOUR dates! I just need to wrap my head around all of this.  This is what I want, I just have to go step-by-step for myself.

He's right, I haven't made my decision yet because of fear and what not, but I'm closer.  Definitely closer.  But I do have to say, there's nothing like letting him work for it a little bit.  He doesn't need to know that I haven't dated anyone else.  There's no harm.  No answer is not lying.  There has to be a reason why none of those other guys really go into contact and asked me out.  I believe that God works in mysterious ways. 


Next date: Saturday late afternoon.  Ice skating and hot chocolate - we really have to get out of the house and out to do something! LOL  Plus, I might not be able to see him until I get back from the new business pitch in Pittsburgh next Friday.  Ugh...Valentine's Day...

xoxo

Dating News Flash I

After several conversations with friends, I am reaffirmed about the oddity of Steven's desire to play 20 questions with me rather than just be straight about what he does.  And, it's not really about what he does for a living, it's about honesty.  As the BFF said "I don't care what your job is for a living.  You can bag groceries, but own it and be proud of it."  Aaaaaa-greed!

Nonetheless, I am giving him the benefit of the doubt (including assuming the fact that he paid our bill, although I just feel strongly it didn't happen) and have set a date for dinner on Thursday night.

In the meantime, I've talked to two other guys I met online.  John...the conversation was painful.  He was about as exciting as a wet rag.  I think I spoke a total of three minutes on a half hour call.  I finally told him my Mom was calling on the other line and had to go (I'm sure my Mom won't mind that I used her as an excuse!)

Rich...we've been emailing online for some time.  He is actually one of the first guys I met on the site.  Seemed a little cocky...yeah, he's one of those guys who put up a photo with no shirt on. Typically I would just scoff at him and move on to the next, but in the interest of trying not to judge people without knowing them, I read his profile and his justification made sense -

"You may laugh at me because I put up a picture without a shirt, but I'm doing this to prove that I am who I say I am."

Okay, fine, cuz I can tell you how many people I've met in person and thought "that picture on your profile is about 15 years old.  You said you were 35 not 55, weren't balding and 80 pounds overweight."  Again - be who you are.  Own who you are or change it.  Plus, he's attractive and the rest of his profile seemed honest and sincere.  After the conversation with John, which about put me to sleep, I called Rich and we had a great convo for over an hour.  If he appears cocky on his profile, I definitely didn't get that vibe speaking to him.  He just sounded like a good dude.  I eventually admitted it was my bed time (I don't like games, but you have to play a little.  In this case, I always try to get off the phone first), and hoped we could catch up again by phone or in person.  "In person would be great."  "Awesome, I'm available this week, so why don't you figure something out and let me know." (Again, I always make them plan the date - hey, they can do some work to impress me!)

Yesterday I returned the call from the local dating agency and told Annie* that the timing was perfect and I am available.  "Great. We'll determine if you're a match for this person and then get back to you.  In the meantime, you might want to come back in for a face-to-face since it's been a couple of years."  "Of course! let me know when."

I have to admit something: I often feel bad dating someone I know is interested in me and then dating other people.  It's like I'm cheating or doing something behind their backs, when I know that this simply isn't true until sex and mutual monogamy is confirmed.  It's weird, I KNOW, and I have no answer as to why I feel this way other than the fact that I have been cheated on quite a bit in past relationships.  It's the reason that I probably do two things:
1. Ensures that I won't cheat.  Ironically, I have NEVER cheated, but no one needs to feel the hurt I have. I think it's less about cheating and more about hurting someone.
2. More than likely is the main culprit in my meeting men, having a great time and then rushing to see what else is out there before settling down with that person.  I want to make sure that I won't be more attracted to someone else, which is complete bullshit because I am the one who once wrote a column on men looking over my shoulder for greener grass and yet here I am.

In reality, I probably do this because:
A. If it's not going to work out I'd rather cut if off at the pass than let it go further and hurt someone more.  I will not lie...I have hurt someone in my past.  I was careless and disrespectful to him.  Why? Because, if you believe it or not, I actually believed that men did not have feelings.  Yep.  Thanks, Dad.  A mutual friend called and said that the bf was really hurt and crying nonstop.  I never knew what to do about that so I let him go because I figured "why would he take me back?"  I still feel guilt over this, the first realization that men aren't so different.
B. Protection mechanism! Scared to take the leap.  My mind suddenly races to marriage and my fear of making the wrong choice, much like I fear my Mother might have done because she was expected to get married.  After her engagement to someone she was crazy about was broken, by the guy, she picked the first handsome, eccentric, non-affectionate but hard-working man who fell for her.  He was from a lower class and my grandparents never really approved of him.  But hey, if she hadn't gone for him then I wouldn't be here, and we all know you couldn't live without me!  HA!

As I told the BFF yesterday, I am really proud of my recent realizations (epiphanies) towards relationships and dating, but there is clearly more work to be done and I'm hoping that getting out and dating will help me conquer in "real time", so to speak.  It's good to be aware of where you are and know what hills you need to get over.  There's no point in not being aware and then dragging others through your black suitcase full of bullshit!

xoxo

The Date Report: Steven

I know I promised a full report on Saturday but I ended up taking a day for moi, including sweat pants, my down comforter, Dog Whisperer, some DVR and Cold Mountain.  It was awesome!

So, without further adieu....

At 3:45p I looked into my closet with frustration and some horror.  I can't wear jeans, because their all a wee bit too tight on me so it's tights or leggings.  In this weather....leggings.  I call my gf Megan* who says "no" to the leggings and jeans would be good.  Jeans are not good.  "I can't get into any of them".  "That's all in your head."  "Oh, yeah, it's all in my head that my fat ass can't get into any of my jeans.  They don't fit, so how is that in my head?".  She sighs and says okay.  After about 20 minutes of disgust looking at my closet, I finally manage to select three outfits.

1. A maroon knee length, v-neck sweater dress that I would normally wear with tights and boots.  I tried it on and made a face in the mirror.  Too many bumps and bubbles.  So, I put on the tights.  Still too many.  Then I looked at the drawer in my dresser in fear of the one thing that lay inside.  Slowly opening the drawer it had somehow found its way to the top and it stared me straight in the face.  A girdle.  Yep, no fancy Spanx (which I think is a nice word for girdle) but a full fledged girdle.  Ughhh....I pulled it out gingerly praying that I wouldn't look better with it on and just give the whole thing up.  I slipped my feet in and PULLED and...pulled.  Sucked in some air and pulled some more.  It was on.  I slipped the dress on over it, looked in the mirror and I did look better but I also felt like any false move and the damn thing would explode, my bumps and bubbles along with it.  I did NOT feel sexy or beautiful.  I took a picture and sent it to Megan who said "gorgeous".  Ugh.  I don't feel that way.  So, it had to go.

2. A grey dress, that totally reminds me of something I owned in 1988.  It's tight on the butt and legs and then baggy on top where a silver pattern of circles or bubbles rests on the chest - believe it or not, this pattern actually helps those of who are mammary gland challenged.  The sleeves reach elbow length and a large boat neck allows me to wear it low on the chest as a v-neck or it falls off the shoulder.  Black leggings and black boots complete it.  I look in the mirror at what's become my "go to outfit" and think this might be a bit too much for a first date and a little bit too nightclub-ish.  I strip it off.

3. A long sleeve sweater/dress top with a low collared v-neck.  The thin acrylic material helps it hang and brings enough warmth that I won't be sweating indoors or freezing outside in the frozen tundra.  I pair it with jeggings (YES, I said JEGGINGS!  Shutup!  Their totally comfy) and camel knee-high stiletto boots.  I look in the mirror and see the first pleasing reflection of myself in months.  This is the one.  It's a little bit more casual than the others and very date worthy.  I also send this to Megan for approval and get it. 

I was moving slowly and it took another hour getting ready between sips of wine.  I wasn't nervous but I definitely was stressed.  Flat ironed hair to perfection, got frustrated with my eye makeup and ended up completely washing my face and doing it again.  Better, but I was missing my makeup Midas touch.

I feed Meow Mix and look at the clock - 5:10p.  Okay, I'm running late but I can hurry.  I reach under the white bed skirt and pull out the Tupperware container/box that holds my supply of clutches and other non-everyday bags.  I pull out this great snake print clutch that I got at H&M.  This bag rocks and I actually have a couple of the same style.  It's actually a multi-use bag.  The shape is square with handles at the top so you can fill it all the way and carry by handles, or throw in the essentials and fold it in half as a clutch.  Clever design, really.

I lay all the essentials out on the table and pack them one by one, most of them having their own specific place.  The rest jumbled together at the bottom, which will present an archaeological dig later to find my "lip jazz" (aka Burt's Bees tinted lip moisturizer).  Look at the clock.  Shit.  5:17. Shit.  I run into my bedroom grabbing jewelry (there is no time for decisions), quickly decide on the blue and silver circle necklace set Sister2 gave me for Christmas, and I was impressed by this gift!  A first ever.  The color sets off the blue jeggings and my eyes.  I like that my outfit is not matchy-matchy.  I've never been that kind of gal.  Fashion is, to me, an expression of art, creativity and who I am.  One more glance in the mirror.  Back to the bathroom to grab a comb for hair touch ups.  Suddenly I realize I have not put on socks or boots. Shit.  5:23. I quickly take off the jeggings, rub the bottom of my feet with deodorant, pour some baby powder in and pull a striped pair of wool knee high socks (seriously, this does help!), jeggings, zip up the boots.  Ready.  5:25.  Shit.   I wrap my purple Pashmina scarf around my neck, slip into my long Thinsulate coat - zip, snap, tie - grab my 1920's-inspired hat from Target (I get so many compliments on my hat!), gloves, keys, bag and fly down my stairs.  Opening the door, the arctic blast hits my face and the street lights are reflecting off the icy sidewalks.  Potential death, or shattered hip, await me.  Awesome.  Pull out phone. 5:32. Shit, shit!

Unlike my neighbors, I was smart enough to put down de-icer on my sidewalk that morning.  But that was the only danger-free zone.  I made my way to the grassy area and shuffled along on my toes - baby steps to safety.  Finally I make it past the end houses to the crosswalk and scurry across to the school sidewalk - always clear.  I get to my usual corner to grab a cab and...nothing.  Shit. I should have known.  In weather like this, there is never a cab.  Several drive by with their lights off filled with passengers enjoying the warm heat inside as I stand here in boots that have about as much warmth as a freezer.  Awesome.  I pull out my phone for the time.  Shit. 5:40.  And as I put it away the bus pulls up.  Done.

Jumping on to the bus I whip out my CTA (Chicago Transit Authority) card.  "Invalid". What the?  Okay, I pull out $3 and put it in to pay my $2.25 fare - I can't believe I don't have change - "No need for the other dollar," says bus driver.  "Thank you!" I text Steven to report on my delay.  "No cabs."  "Do you want me to come pick you up?"  "Sweet of you to offer but I'm now on CTA."  "Okay - seats by fireplace are taken. May have to work another angle to secure." "My money is on your resourcefulness." "Mission accomplished!"  "Attaboy!" 5:42.

Just 10 minutes later I get dropped at an intersection and prepare to transfer buses.  CTA has this ingenious mobile website where you can get times for buses - CTA Bustracker.  It's brills!  I quickly check the time for the next bus.  What the?  15 minutes?  Seriously?  Knowing that they can often come faster, I begin to walk down the street to the next stop.  I was certainly not going to stand their and freeze my ass off for 15 minutes.  At least walking would get the heart pumping and some warmth brewing. Knowing my CTA card was not working, I tried the trick again and claimed that I didn't have change.  "That's okay," said the busdriver.  "Thanks!"

Finally on bus.  Send text: "Just made transfer will be another 10. I'm sorry."  "No worries."  Ten minutes later, I leap off the bus, refasten the buttons on my coat and haul ass down the block to the venue.  I walk in, look around and see a handful of people sitting at the bar and a few small groups at tall boy tables sharing Happy Hour.  The place is virtually empty.  You'd never know that it is one of the hottest places come summer, jammed with people dressed to the nines and a long line waiting to go up the stairs and on to the beautiful patio on the rooftop. Finally I tell the host that I'm meeting someone by the fire. The host looks as confused as I and finally says, it looks like there is someone sitting in the nook by the fire.  I look and there are a pair legs perched on the table, but that's all I see of him.  I peak my head in and sure enough.  There he is sitting on the banquet leading up to a glass wall.  Inside a thin line of fire burns.  It's not as cozy warm as one might think but it's better than nothing.

"There you are!  Hi!" A big smile came across his face. "Hi, yourself."  We chuckle and he reaches in for a huge bear hug.  Ah!  I love big, tight hugs.  Brother-in-law1 calls it Hug Therapy, and he's right.  I love 'em.  I start to pull away and he grabs tighter.  Awesome!  "You're cold.  I'll warm you up."  Mmmm.

We finally break apart and I take off my coat but leave my hat and scarf on until I can warm up and the witty banter begins.  Wow!  Hilarious!  I love exchanging jabs and witty conversation.  It's one of my favorite things and it was....so much fun!

Steven is about 5"10' and a biggish guy with a Buddha (hey, a little Buddha is good as long as Buddha doesn't get any bigger), large legs and muscular!  His head is shaved and he's donning some killer glasses.  For a moment I was a little confused on his pressing me to dress "sexy" when he had on Brown Timberland lace up ankle boots accompanied by dark blue jeans so worn that the only sign they were once dark is the fine line around the seams, and a bluish-grey sweater.  The guys I typically date would be in nice dark jeans, a long sleeved button down and black ankle boots.  He was dressed super casual and I was happy I chose the right outfit.  Just chic enough but no overdressed.

The waiter came up and asked if I'd like something to drink and I ordered my usual Grey Goose Gimlet up, "Oh, she's going to be trouble!"  I laugh and gingerly slap his knee to say stop.  It felt less like a first date and more like two old friends getting together after a long time. Dare I say, it was very comfortable.  Steven has a shy confidence about him.  Quick with wit but not super gregarious in nature.  It wasn't long before we were just laughing and cracking each other up.  Within 15 minutes he leans close to me and says "I really want to kiss you."  Okay, that was fast! "But I want to wait.  I just don't know how long I can wait."

Within an hour I reached the point in conversation where I wanted to dig in deeper so I asked him what he does.  "I'm a police officer of aviation."  "What does that mean? Do you work at the airport, downtown, what?" "Yes, I work at the airport and help with anti-terrorism, bomb threats, etc."  "So you're protecting us?"  "Yeah, that's a nice way of saying it."  "You carry a weapon and all?"  "Yeah, sort of." WTF, man?  Give me some straight answers!  I never did get one which kind of pissed me off.  I'm thinking he's TSA but can't for the life of me figure out what he's telling me and why he's not just telling me.  Is he ashamed?  Is he undercover?  Whatever. I try again.  "Okay, so are you a Marshall?" "I don't travel."  "Okay, so do you work regular police shifts?"  "Yeah, a few days on a few off and rotation.  I work tomorrow at 5:30."  "In the evening?" "No, morning." "Oh my gosh. We should call it a night soon so you can get to bed."  "Eh, I don't require much sleep." (I hate to pull this book into it but "He's Just Not That Into You" says that if a guys is into you he will go without sleep, find a way to make it through the day and always make time to call you...If I was blind to it before than now I'm thinking he's interested).

After awhile the touchy-feely flirtation increased, the "you're so beautiful" became a regular quote (which a gal never grows tired of hearing), the witty banter continued along with some serious stuff, he began to move in closer and for the first time I allowed myself to linger longer during glances, to study him and allow myself to open to him and see what's there.  I told him about where I'm from in Kansas.  He grabs my hand and intertwines his fingers with mine, "So you're a country girl."  "I grew up in the city of 350,000 people. That's not country!"  "That's country to this city boy."  Hmph.  "Well, country girls are a lot more friendly and confident than city girls."  "I'm beginning to see that."

He asked me why I was single and suggested that I'm a heart breaker.  Hmmmm...maybe a little bit.  I hadn't thought of it  that way.  "I just have some things to deal with.  Relationships with men in my life that I needed to reconcile in order to move forward."  "Hmmm...interesting."  I did open up to him about my dad but didn't go closer to mentioning my abuser/stalker.  He shared that he was super shy growing up and took  a trip to South America where the women are really aggressive and it gave him confidence, and probably made him a bit of a player for awhile.  "But now that I'm almost 40 I'm ready to settle down and look for something real."  "That makes sense.  When is your birthday?" He leans into my ear and whispers "Tomorrow."  "Well, happy early birthday." He leans in again, "Thanks for sharing it with me."

It was almost 10:00 and I insist that we start our departure.  He leans in and whispers "Not without a kiss."  I looked into his eyes and smiled, "Okay."  Wow. Nice, gentle and lots of chemistry.  "Okay, I think we should get our bill and go."  "I want to stay here and kiss more."  "I don't really do full on PDA."  "Okay, then we can finish this in the car. I'll take you home."  "Well, that would be very nice of you." Then we sat and talked a bit longer waiting for the waitress to come by.  She didn't.  I finally said "I have to go to the bathroom.  Let's go."  When I came back he was still sitting there.  I grabbed my coat and he immediately got up to hold it for me to slip on.  What a gent!  Then he grabbed his and said "I'm going to valet for the car."  I stood inside and got this sinking feeling something wasn't right.  He came in to get me, but didn't open the car door.  Instead I stood in front of the car waiting for traffic to clear for one second so I could run to the door and open it before I was bombarded with more oncoming traffic.  I slid into the car, the heater on, and we drove off.

Once at my door, he pulled the car over and, for the first time, I didn't grab the door handle and jump out.  I sat, waited and then he reached towards me, hand on my face and kissed me.  We were now in full blown make out.  The initial kiss was so nice and this one started out the same and then all of a sudden I had a wild animal in my mouth.  This boy did not know how to kiss after all!  My heart sank and I thought "Well, maybe I can teach him as I have others."  But who wants to teach?  I'm willing to help his wardrobe, buy a new, nice, full length coat and trash that entirely too ugly Russian fur (real fur) hat with the ear flaps that just perches on top of his head.  Shutter.  But the kissing.  :( Bummer.  Major bummer.  I finally rescued my mouth from the assault and said "Thanks for tonight. I had fun." "Me too.  I'll see you on Monday."  "Monday?"  "Yeah, that's the next time I can see you."  "Oh, I have a board meeting that night."  "Tuesday?"  "I have a networking group I host that night.  Why don't you call me when you're free and we'll schedule?"  "You are interested in going out again, aren't you?"  "Yes" I say with a sigh and smile.  "Awesome!"

I got out of the car only to see an old neighbor and stopped to give her a hug.  He waited and I told her that my date was waiting for me to go inside and I did.  As I was washing my face, I replayed the night in my head and was very proud of myself.  Proud that I allowed myself to be open and be part of something.  Proud that by doing so I am one step closer to finding my partner.  Proud to let someone be sweet and affectionate to me. Proud that I didn't just grab the door handle, lean over to kiss him on the cheek, leap out, say a quick thanks and I'll talk to you soon and within seconds be in the safety of my home.  Over the years, my wall caused me to shut down; to not get close, not open up, not take the chance.  Often times I would immediately say "this won't go anywhere" or "I'll probably break up with him" so I never bothered to let anyone get close enough to see me. I even did that when I came home.  Immediately I thought "I'm going to hurt him.  Step away now."  When the reality is that is the old Epiphany.  That's the old me and my old modus operandi.  Now that I've done it the last few times I known why I haven't been able to be in a relationship.  I don't let anyone get close.  No matter what happens, it felt really, really good.

Finally snuggled into my flannel sheets and down comforter, doing Sudoku to rest my mind, it donned on me what was off about the end of the night.  I have this sinking feeling that we skipped out on our bill.  Four cocktails and tip.  Probably $50!  Unbelievable.  My phone buzzes.  Text from Steven: "I had a wonderful time with you this evening."  "As I.... :)" And with that I went to bed.  The next morning I texted a Happy Birthday wish and he said "Thanks, country bumpkin."

And with that...we shall see.  There are a couple of other guys I'm talking to and a dating service here in Chicago called to see if I'm still available.  No sex until monogamy and until then I'm dating around, and that includes another date with Steven.

xoxo

Preparations Have Been Made....Countdown Begun

I've been preparing for the date with Steven since last night.  Why so long?  Well, I did my home mani last night (with a bottle of wine) and it turned out to be a disaster.  Too thick, then too much top coat, which made it bubbly, then quick dry which dried it smooth but you could see the bubbles.  Total disaster.  The worst part is that I stayed up later than normal to let it dry and couldn't sleep in this morning because my intern was coming in (that's the great thing about interns.  You HAVE to get out of bed and showered). So, took it all off. Painted bottom coat and then painted one coat each hour today while working to make sure it's dry.  Perfection!

A sugarfree Red Bull and a very hot shower, yummy on this the coldest day of the year in Chicago, and a face mask, of which I already think some bastard pimple is trying to make it's nasty ass way to the surface.  Zapped that shit!

Yep, a balmy 5 degrees currently shows on my thermometer, but the wind chill is definitely under 0. Bbbbrrrr.  It's freaking crazy!!  I wonder why any sane person would bother to go anywhere on days like this.  If I didn't work from home, I would have called in sick or negotiated working from home, for sure!  At this very moment, I write with my hot pink gloves and wool scarf on.  All I can do is think about the warmth of summer.  Not really nervous about tonight (the first date I've had in MONTHS), I'm more worried about the frigid temperatures and the fact I'd rather wear flannels and warm boots then feign an attempt of sexy, which will not be as warm.  It's all about the layers. That's how you survive Chicago winters - well, that and a warm down or Thinsulate coat.  Even then...it's fucking COLD!

Oh, I've already been reassured that Steven is able to "..provide the heat, baby! Don't you worry about a thing." Gotta admit, I like flirtation.  It builds a nice level of excitement, fun and desire.


Years ago a gf introduced me to a wine expert from Seattle who was in town (I know you're reading this and you KNOW who I'm talking about).  He and I were on fire the second we met.  When he returned home the text messages flew.  It was a rapid fire flirtation with some dirty talk and....it was ON!

It wasn't long before he called and asked me to meet him in Minneapolis to help him with an event.  His hotel was overbooked and they couldn't find him another room.  We ended up at a Travellodge so disgusting even the roaches wouldn't set up shop.  It smelled like a combination of ash trays, booze, trash and ass.  I don't want to think about what I might have possibly caught there.  Just breathing in the air was toxic and all guests should have been required to wear masks and goggles along with radiation suits.

A nice dinner out, couple glasses of wine and we were back in the hotel (cough, if you can call it that) ripping each others clothes off.  Needless to say, it was pretty amazing.  Even at the nasty ass Travellodge.  I don't even think squatters and the homeless would inhabit that building if it was empty.  It was NAST-OLA!  All of that heat, simply from text messages.  And then, it was over.  Sure he'd come to town and we'd hook up, but that was it.  No more hot text messages.  The desire had been extinguished.  Was I sad?  Nope.  It was exactly what it had always meant to be.

Tonight, I hope to experience the positivity of owning my shit and dealing with it.  That means how I react to, perceive and respond to men. 

So, I'm finishing up work for the day soon, because I require a load of work before heading out.  If only men appreciated the time and effort that women put in to being presentable for them.  Not to mention the sheer pain of looking fabulous.  All I can think about is stiletto boots walking on the icy sidewalks outside that await me, saying "There's no way around me.  Take the chance.  You won't fall and bruise your ass so bad you won't be able to sit for days.  Trruuussssst me."   Even with wool knee high socks,  I can already feel my feet freezing and the pain of walking with feet that are apparently about to fall off because they're frost bitten and turning black.  I can see it now.  It's going to take me 15 minutes just to walk 25 yards.  Yea.  I can't wait.

All I know is there is a warm fireplace awaiting me...that's if we get there early enough...and a martini to thaw my limbs.  And, hoping the man is just as hot...as he claims!

Full report Saturday..

xoxo

Online Dating - love/hate relationship

In the spirit of kick starting my love life, and hopefully pathetic sex life, I joined an online dating site.  Now, I've done this many times.  Met some great people and also a ton of players - yea! Not.  However, since I work from my home and barely leave it in the winter - why would you if you don't have to? Although we've had a relatively warm winter in Chicago it's still freakin' cold out.  Plus, the only love affair that is new is with my new, super soft, brushed cotton flannel sheets I got for Christmas (Thanks, Santa).

Before I upgrade from teetering on pathetic into adopting that calico (and two others) I saw recently, I thought I'd better get back in the game.  Seriously, cobwebs have grown.  I've gained weight, instead of losing, which was part of the plan here, and my new wardrobe consists of wearing leggings and big sweaters on a daily basis.  If I'm not careful all sense of sexuality will be sucked out of my body and given to someone more deserving.  There's really nothing too sexy about me these days and I just have to get out of that groove, because it ain't headin' anywhere good.

For the most part I'm enjoying the experience.  When I first signed up it was as if all the men on the site smelled fresh meat and I was immediately bombarded.  Let me tell you, it does wonders for the self-esteem!  Still, as exciting and fun as that is, the initial rush dies when you realize most of them don't meet your top five criteria.  So, I pleasantly turn them away and go hunting.

In the last month, I've met some great guys, BUT it's like they really have no intention of ever getting in touch with you.  They want your number to text, but not to go out.  I'm sorry.  I don't do commitment phobes.  They say they want a relationship and to find that special someone but there is no follow through.  Zip. Zilch. Nada.  It's crazy.  I have met and emailed with several guys, suggested we get together or talk on phone and then all of a sudden they disappear.  Come on!  Pull up your panties, deal with your issues and maybe you will find what you say you're looking for.  If I can be truthful about my reality, so can anyone.

The good thing is that these guys are taking themselves out of the running on their own.  I don't need to date emotionally unavailable or geographically undesirable men.  This is one thing I know, is that I always pick these guys because I know it won't work out and then I can go back to the safety of my solitary life.

Don't get me wrong.  I do enjoy my solitary life.  It can be fun but as friend's lives change and I see what I want getting further and further away from me, I realize it's time.  I'm not 25 anymore.  I...cough...can't even say where I'm at.  I don't believe it and that may be part of the problem.  The other is my emotional baggage, but, hey, I'm dealing with it.

Let's see if I can actually tie one of these guys down for a date.  I'm desperate for a shower, heels, and a sexy dress.

xoxo

A Flirt: The Neighbor

About a year ago, my neighbor and I made out. He's younger (uhm, FINE! 25. He's 25! At least I'm not going to jail for it) and adorable. He was a terrible kisser but a little instruction and we were good. Again, he's sssoooo cute and adorable.

What I love about guys in their 20's is what I love about guys in their late 30's-early 40's. In their 20's-30's you can imagine what that baby face is going to look like at 40. It may take men longer to grow into themselves, but it's highly worth it and let me tell you, The Neighbor is going to be a super hottie! For right now, he is a load of fun to flirt with and....

So, last night I was trying to be good, getting perfect and ready for a crazy day of events, and I heard all of my neighbors out front. I say,"Sure I can go hang with them for a bit and be asleep by 10:30p." HA! I went down to hang out and let my nails dry without thinking I have a big, HUGE nasty red pimple on my face that is not fit or public consumption - I had washed my face earlier to treat the little fucker with the hope that it might disappear before this morning. That, of course, wasn't the case. Once you remember something like that you start to rest your chin in your hand until you just say "Fuck it!" and keep having fun. My neighbors and I have, for the most part, seen each other at our unshowered-messy-bedhead-unshaven-worst, and while I like to try and look presentable at all times, sometimes you just forget. Oddly enough, it must have been the alcohol or the pot he was smoking, but apparently I was lookin' good to him (doesn't hurt that the sun was setting. I always look better by candle and moonlight)!

I love to watch boys flirt - with me, of course. Some make it SO obvious that it's fun to sit back and receive. The Neighbor is one of those. Sooner or later there was a "come up and check out what they did to my apartment" (make out session - MUCH improved!); "would you like some wine? come up I'll get you a glass" (make out session); and finally the "can you show me where your bathroom is" which led to full on make out session and...more fun. However, me being a stickler that I am, not too much fun was had cuz I had to get up super early. (HEY! At my age, we need our beauty sleep!) Plus, why not save something for a rainy day - in the forecast soon.

It's been some time, I will admit, since I've had this kind of attention and...fun. It's not that I haven't been looking, it's just that The Neighbor is really only fun, whereas I'm looking for a relationship. A lasting one. Someone to have fun with all the time. I'm tired of this transient-lover BS. I want one to stay. Nonetheless, it was MUCH needed fun to remind me of the simple pleasure that is a man. Stay tuned for that rainy day.

Romance - Dead, a Fairytale or Just Me?

I am a delinquent blogger. The Fourth of July weekend kind of kicked my ass, and after some catch up on all the things I was supposed to do over the weekend and finally feeling like I won't have a narcoleptic attack, I'm back to reporting the craziness that is my life.

Monday I saw the new Twilight movie, and I must say the anticipation was killing me. The love story presented in these novels is, well, a fairy tale, for sure, but I often wonder what happened to a generation of men. My generation of men. Call me old fashioned, but there's something about the previous generations' dating sociology of men and women that has its appeal. What happened? Internet porn, women's lib or just the Internet in general?

I may be a confident, independent woman, but I still like traditionalism in dating. Meaning, I want to be courted. Is that so ridiculous? My friends tell me that I'll be waiting forever. Don't get me wrong, I do attract plenty of flirts (men) and have asserted myself only to be turned down. Quantity isn't my problem. It's quality. And quality might not even be my problem. It may just be me. Me and this antiquated idea of romance and relationships. Some say I'm impossible - a dreamer with a child-like fantasy of Cinderella, Prince Charming and Hollywood movie endings.

It's different living in a city where people are transient and the single lifestyle is encouraged by a number of nightclubs with scantily clad dancers and babes at the beach. Everyone's looking for....greener grass. It's as if they don't want to settle down because they think something better is coming along. Or, it's commitment phobia. I must admit that the men older than me who have never been married raise a big, and I mean HUGE, flag for me for this very reason. Did they wake up at 50 and suddenly realize they're not 35 and will die alone? Sure, throw some money around and buy yourself a 25-yr old wife and 2.5 kids. You think I'm joking. Happens all the time here.

It's not like this where I grew up - a smallish Midwestern town. Men know how to treat a woman and coupledom is desired for more than just one night. Men are guy's guys. In fact, I would say I've met more flirts with potential outside of Chicago than in over 10 years here. So, I wonder, why does urban living breed this mentality in not just men, but also women. Is it because you can walk into a bar, meet someone, get their number, leave, go to another bar, meet someone else (repeat and rinse), and then decide who you will call? That's kind of bullshit, especially because so many men believe that they deserve to be with a supermodel (uhm, btw, that's like .001 of the fem population and, NEWS FLASH, you're not Tom Brady,a Kennedy or Leonardo DiCaprio).

I meet flirts everywhere but it's always so superficial. Few have turned into more than a one-night stand or even gotten to a third date. (I know a one-night stand isn't much of a fairytale. More of a means to an end for a 30-something's raging hormones). Sadly, many, I feel, have never wanted to get to know me. It was more of a "were going to this party so dress up, I'll pick you up at 8p and flash that smile for the boys I work with". Even more sad is how long it took me to catch on to this pattern. And, the concept of Internet dating doesn't make it any easier.

As someone who works from home, I don't have the luxury of an office of individuals willing to invite me to parties or introduce me to their friends (not to negate my fab friends). I'm out on my own. And while I make an effort to get out and about, Internet dating was an easy option for me. Surprise! Many of the sites revealed men who say they're looking for their life partner, but in reality they use it as their own personal sex, eerrr, dating service to line up a variety of dates or sex for the week. Maybe it's because my generation is the first to really feel the plague of divorce. When you don't have a good relationship model, it's kind of hard to learn how to develop a relationship with someone. (Hmmm...note to self. Possible personal consideration)

Now, women are not innocent here, either. I'm constantly surprised by the number of women willing to completely disrespect and throw themselves at men. Duh, when you send a guy naked pictures of yourself, of course he's going to call. He thinks you're E-A-S-Y! That's not the start to a potentially lasting relationship, that's the start to a friend with benefits and late night drunk booty text messages. I have this sinking feeling that no one wants to work for anything anymore.

As for me, with a dating highway littered with love, screw ups, bad choices, and even BIGGER bad choices, a crazy psycho ex (who still won't leave me alone after almost 20 years), it's no surprise that I am my own worst problem. I am the perfect saboteur of my love life, scared of making another bad choice, comfortable being alone than in a shitty or disappointing relationship, and having that information blaring like a neon sign on my forehead - "Damaged goods. Leave me alone. Too scared to open up." Pick one...it's probably a rotating sign at this point in my life.

All I know is that recently I've taken some real risks in this department. One flirt - known forever, totally like but is very long distance and well, he hasn't responded to my email saying I miss chatting. (NEXT) Second flirt - a cutie from Minnesota who made moves on ME, I really connected with and asked to lunch the next day only to get the "there's someone back home." Clearly none of my approaches have been well received, but you have to start somewhere when you're trying to escape Never, Never Land.