Project Mr. Right

SPEED DATING FOR DUMMIES…AND ONLY DUMMIES

iPod set to Amy Winehouse's, Love is a Losing Hand

Download: Love Is a Losing Game

Six minutes is a F#*!#ing long time.  That’s what AJ's Facebook status will say tonight.  Speed dating.  Good idea right?  Meet 15 guys in an hour and a half.  Ladies, all I have to say is NO.  No, no, no, no, no.

Tonight I was AJ's wing-woman.  I pretended to be single so I could get the scoop on speed dating.  Besides, it was something I'd always wanted to try.

We arrived early to pre-medicate ourselves at the bar.  This of course had to be a fine line between the “I can live through this with a smile, go team!” buzz and the “thso, you’re thsuper cute.  if I can w-walk leths go make-out on the thstreet.” stumbling drunk.  Vodka for me and beer for AJ.  We had two rounds before things started and by guy number two I wished I’d ordered a double both times.  These six-minute dates were way too sobering. 

This is how it works.  The girls stay in place and a guy sits next to them.  They talk for six minutes, their “date”, and then a big gong sound smacks you across the face and the men all change to sit with the next girl.  We all had numbers by us.  Halfway through, there was a bathroom break and some food and then afterward everyone could stay and mingle. 

Some guys were somewhat easier to talk with and the six minutes felt a little shorter than a lifetime.  Or at least they were faster in comparison to the “shoot me now” situations.  It was a kinda like sorority rush.  You sit there knowing you have nothing in common with most of these men and yet are overcome with that “like me” need.  No, you don’t want them to call you—ever!  But you sure do want to leave being the girl with the most “yes” votes.  We all want to be wanted.

By the third guy I needed to find amusement for myself.  I found that I got to say the same jokes or introductions 15 times and thus could tweek my material accordingly, try it out with different phrasings or inflection, maybe reword it a bit.  I was seated at the #1 position.  “Yep, I’m #1.  This is where it all begins!”  “Yep, I’m #1…the beginning of the end.  Afraid?!”  Yep, I’m #1 or can’t you tell?”  Ok, I wasn’t exactly Chris Rock, but it passed the time.  Especially since the bartender got to hear me say it over and over again.  And thought it was cute and HE was hot!  (Fine, he thought I was a big fat loser…whatever.)

They went to number 11 instead of 8 before letting us use the bathroom so I truly have no recollection of numbers 9, 10 or 11.  And then while I was using the facilities the food was all eaten up.  Awesome.  Another drink then?  Why not?

By the end it was agreed that we had been quit good sports, saints maybe.  AJ said that maybe two guys were ok, but she wasn’t sure if they were ok, or ok in comparison to the rest.  We’ll see.

The final step is to go online and put in our “yes” votes.  Since I was, well, lying, (about being single…details) I just won’t go online.  This way there isn’t anything past this and better yet I don’t have to have that face-to-face situation of exchanging numbers or backing out of future plans.  And just when I thought it was safe the host of the night came over and asked if it would be too unprofessional of him to ask me out to dinner.  WHAT?  Really?  AJ couldn’t stand it, “You got asked out by the teacher, you got asked out by the teacher!  Bahahahaha.”  Hysterical.  Yes.  So I did the ol’ avoid giving any info, get his number and run outta there fast.

So that is speed dating.  No I don’t recommend it.  Painful, very painful.  Instead just take your money and buy a nice brick wall to bang your head against. 

DATING SUPER HERO

iPod set to Plain White Ts, It's So Easy

Download: It's So Easy

Sometimes I look in the mirror and just think, “why?!”  How do I get myself into these things?  How is it that my calendar has me scheduled for a speed dating event tonight?  Well yes, it’s because I scheduled it and was very excited about the whole idea and I probable still am. It’s just that, well, I must be out of my mind!  I must be out of my mind to get back with Monkey Wrench in agreement that we’re “going for the gold” and then sneak off so I can play wingman for my friend AJ.  I can just see it now.  Well, I would be engaged but my boyfriend doesn’t like it that I’m still dating.  He’s such a downer!  He he.

And yes, it was my idea to start.  I’m still interested in finding out about and reporting back on where to “meet the men” in NYC.  But there’s this whole new element involved now.  I’m doing it all undercover or something.  I’m like a secret dating superhero.  Yes!  That’s it.  An alter ego!  Finally my dream of realizing I’m actually a super hero has come true.  I’m no longer normal, plane Jane.  Now I have powers that boggle the mind and must sniff out the good men and week out the bad for all my mortal girl friends.  I will save them from the slime and grime of CADs everywhere.  I will be, ah, hmmm.  I will be, I will be Mr. Right Girl!

I’m off to work on my super speed dating powers.  Wish us luck tonight.

 

**It's my first time trying that song download link at the top of this point.  If it ends up that you have to pay for something, NOT my intention.

CALL ME

iPod set to Blondie's, Call Me

At two minutes till nine tonight I exited the subway and immediately called to my friend Jamie to say that we got tickets to see her favorite band.  Yes, it would be with Monkey Wrench and his friend, but his friend was married so Jamie will get the night off from me pimping her out.  My excitement was contained however, when right away I got her voice mail.  Next I returned a call to Lisa from back home, but she was passed out after some church event you go to when you have kids and live in the South.  (Church on a Wednesday night?!)  One last try to my married friend Jen and…no dice.  I did eventually get in touch with Tera, but she’s a single gal on the dating scene and was driving back from her current dude’s apartment.  (Plus it’s an hour behind NYC where she lives.)  Where is everyone? 

I knew I wouldn’t get married early and did imagine being the last of my friends, but I never thought it would come to this.  I was supposed to get that magical feeling of wanting to join my life with another person and create a home and a family.  But right now I just want someone who is around after ten o’clock!  Is this so much to ask?  When the rest of the world has shut down it’s freakin’ boring!  Where are these people?  I have things to say, plans to make, sales to tell them about! 

If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.  Well, think about it at least.  J

Top Ten Reasons to Get Married

1. The singles crowd is dying.

2. I’ve finished all the Find Him, Get Him and Keep Him books at Barnes and Noble and I need a reason for the Marry Him, Loath Him and Love Him Again books.

3. When people tell stories about their kids and spouses I’ll no longer have to compare them to stories about my pet lizard.  “Oh my gosh, little Muppet did something just like that the other week!”

4. I’d be able to drone out a real good, “I knooooooooow!” at a party with the other women.

5. Couples are only interesting if you’re a couple too.

6. I always wanted to know everyone’s birthday and anniversary—doesn’t that magically happen once you’re a wife?

7. When two people live in the same apartment there’s a possibility you weren’t the one who forgot to feed the cat this morning (read: for the past two days).

8. Someone to talk to; no one answers their phone past ten o’clock anymore.

9. No more making up reasons for having a nervous breakdown.

10. Dear God, never ever again with the Internet dating!

IS IT CHEATING IF...

iPod set to The Fabulous Mid Life Crisis Band's, Momma Told Me Not To Come

Ok, just by the beginning of this sentence I would say the answer is yes.  But it’s not, it’s not!  It’s not cheating.  Or, at least it’s not cheeeeeeeating.  I’m not going to go out with anyone else, it’s nothing like that.  But it just so happens that I will be accompanying my friend AJ on a round of speed dating next week.  She’s not really the type to jump into this sort of event, but since we jumped out of a plane and tried to learn how to hang glide, well, meeting a couple guys in under an hour doesn’t seem all that bad.  I’m the wingman.  Wing-woman actually. 

It might actually be more of a lie and a cheat to the guys I’ll be meeting than to my boyfriend (Monkey Wrench).  Although it’s also a good thing to keep my skills up; one never knows when it might come time to recruit a new QB!  I certainly don’t want to take even a little attention from the lovely ladies around me who are looking for Mr., ah, Mr. Not So Bad for a Wednesday Night (it is New York).  This will take a little creative question answering on my part.  Let’s see…

Speed Dater:  Where did you go to school?

Me: Mt. Holyoke of course.  Most other schools cater to the masculine pigs who run our society.

Speed Dater:  Do you live in the city?

Me:  Why do you want to know?  Think you’ll get lucky tonight jerk?  Please!

Speed Dater:  NYC has the best pizza, don’t you agree?

Me:  If you go for that over processed, hormone injected, regulated food conspiracy that the government has us roped into.  I only eat food I grow myself in my studio apartment…the one you won’t be seeing tonight.

Speed Dater:  Do you have any pets?

Me:  I think animals should run free, like the eight-foot rattlesnake I let roam in my bathroom.  Sometimes when I shower I make him bite me, I like it.  But he doesn’t really get along with the three spiders and small rooster I have in my kitchen. 

Speed Dater:  I can’t believe it!  I’ve been looking for a man-hating, government fearing, vegan with self-inflicted pain issues!  You’re perfect!

Me:  Ahhhhhhhh, I collect Precious Moments figures and like to spend all my free time with Jesus or baking cookies for old people.

My main job will be to gather necessary information so I can report back to the troops (my gal pals) about what speed dating is all about.  And my other job is of course to be an amazing wing-woman to AJ.  This means that when we’re conversing with a guy I point out all the great things about her.  That way she gets to have him know all the amazing things, but she doesn’t have to say them.  She just says things like, “Oh, no, stop, really it was just two puppies I saved from the burning house, really it was nothing.  No, oh don’t tell him that, I’m sure tons of girls have climbed Mount Everest.  And please, so I was Miss America the same year I saved the planet from global warming.  Really, you’re just going to bore him!” 

At any rate it will be an adventure!

I'M WITH YOU "IT" GIRL

iPod set to Katy Perry’s, Hot ‘n Cold

 

Someone stole my boyfriend and left a clone in his place and when I find out who did it…I’m going to ask them to hold on to the original! 

 

Monkey Wrench is and always has been a considerate boyfriend; rare, but true.  He is after all, a boy though and when I met him I knew he was a boy who was still single—single and in his late 30s!  Now lets face it…you can be a nice, successful, good looking girl in your 30s and still be looking for a good guy.  It’s possible.  But if you’re a guy and you want to be married…you’re married.  So when I started dating Monkey Wrench I had a dozen excuses on why he wasn’t married, but let’s face it…he wasn’t married because HE hadn’t asked anyone yet.  Why, indecision and fear otherwise known as Commitment Phobia.

 

We just got back together a few weeks ago, but our breakup situation had been an odd one.  It started with one of those “time to open up” conversations where I needed to talk about something that had been bothering me.  I think I was worried that I wasn’t paying for enough things or something ridiculous like that.  (The previous ex had burned me by turning my generosity into his own private piggy-bank so in response I stopped paying for most anything in my next relationship--with Monkey Wrench--and needed to readjust a bit but didn’t know how to do it.)  But instead of talking about money we curve balled into a full blown therapy session about “feelings”.  Oy! 

 

Well, being the all-or-nothing girl that I am when I didn’t hear I was the eye of the tiger and that he wasn’t 150% about us, I split.  (Ok, I split, then he split, then we split.)  It was just your normal healthy multi-week event of back and forth.  Most importantly it sent him into his natural tendency of indecision.  To best some it up you’ll have to listen to Katy Perry’s hit song, Hot ‘n Cold. 

 

I just started reading a Blog called Dear "It" Girl and there’s a post about the up-and-down /hot-and-cold syndrome that is going around the male population.  In summary her advice is…RUN!!! 

 

Wouldn’t you know, that’s what I did!  Eventually.  But I did.  And although 99% of these cases end in the runner finding a Mr. Right in their future, well, my past came back…sort of. 

 

Something must have happened during those months we were apart and I don’t for the life of me know what it could have been.  Because the Monkey Wrench I left…he was up, he was down, he was in, he was out, he was all over the place.  I’m surprised the poor guy didn’t give himself whiplash!  He just had no idea what he wanted, who he was, where he wanted to go or how to get there.  A mess!  (not so unlike most New Yorkers, yes, but hey…I’m just sayin’.)

 

So that’s what I swore I did not want in my next relationship.  Enter Monkey Wrench’s clone.  After this past weekend of five solid days spending every moment together we rolled back into my Brooklyn apartment on Tuesday night.  Wednesday morning I was leaving for work and he looks over and says, “So, when will I see you again?”  I almost looked behind me to see who else was in the room.  I mean really?  Could it be?  The old Monkey Wrench would be all freaked out like a mouse caught in a cage without a door racing around to find his way out shouting “Viva La Cad!”.  This guy, the clone, he was as cool as a cucumber.  He was so cool, I started looking for the door….get me outta here, there’s a clone in my home!

IT’S A SPA THING

iPod set to Enya's, Book of Days

 

The spa Monkey Wrench and I went to was really cool.  Yes, there were facials, manicures and massages, but there was also hiking, biking, rappelling and rock climbing.  Now, if you recall that I’ve found these latter activities to be men magnets.  HOT men magnets.  So, one might think that on this little vaca of ours I would be able to report back to say that you can have your cake and eat it too; a massage in the morning and masculine muscles lowering you into a canyon by lunch. 

 

It seems however that anything related to, in connection with or anywhere close to the word “spa” is a natural repellent to the single man.  There were definitely assortments of women from mother/daughter pairs to groups of bridesmaids to the single gal getting away from it all.  There were also families (with men) and couples of course, but alas I can only report spying one possibly single man and I’m not even sure at that. 

 

So ladies, have a blast with your sis, friends, ma and hubby, but don’t expect to do the walk of shame in the morning unless you happen to O.D. on agave nectar and spoon with a yoga mat in the pool house all night. 

 

*Side note: Day trip guides and instructors…always a hot possibility.  However they are more of the Mr. Here and Now than Mr. Right.  (And there’s nothing wrong with that!)

GO AHEAD, PUT YOURSELF FIRST PRINCESS…A THEORY TESTED.

iPod set to Elvis Costello & The Attractions's, Everyday I Write the Book

The spa weekend was, well, amazing.  I used to tell Monkey Wrench that he was the sweetest guy I’d ever met.  I think it’s still true.  He was just perfect. 

Naturally I was suspect. 

All weekend I was pondering the events of the week.  I spoke with my friend Kera who is dating, well, a handful and I started to realize something.  We, like many women we know, are multi-tasking, over-achieving, people pleasers.  So when we have a guy in our lives we continue to maintain our jobs, participate in various activities, see friends and manage life’s little side projects.  Only now we have another task and that is being a girlfriend.  But we’re not just girlfriends…oh no, we run in a long line of world champion, Oscar award winning, Super Girlfriends.  Not only do we keep up our own lives, we now schedule things around our guy’s schedule, keep the foods he likes stocked up in the fridge, remind him of the things he needed or wanted to do that week, and manage to get 101 items stuffed into a mid-sized, fashionable Coach tote so as to crash at his house later that night.

Problem:  Boys look at the world through “Me” tinted glasses.  So where we see ourselves as the Donna Reed/Barbie/Sporty Spice of perfection who has graciously taken these men into the center of our fabulous universe, they see only that they are sitting in the center of our universe.  This is a big problem. Big problem. Big. Huge.  Why?  Because they are now the Prince and we are the servant.  Bad, very bad, definitely not good, not good at all.

In order to correct this problem we as women eventually hit our breaking point and everything changes.  I like to call this the “I just don’t give a #&*$ stage.”  And all of a sudden the world flips.  So without even thinking about it, the past week I asked him to get me this and buy me that.  I had him drive cross-town to pick me up so I didn’t have to drag my bags around.  Normally I would have met him where the car was, but those bags are heavy and I just didn’t want to deal with it.  We went on a vacation and it was amazing.  I just sat back and watched myself asking him to go out in the cold morning to get the bag I left in the car or to get me something from the bathroom counter because I was in the shower.  He wrote two emails for me that I needed to write, but just didn’t want to, etc.  Now, none of this is too much to ask.  Well, I did feel bad about asking him to get my bad, but only when he came back in smiling and kissed me on the cheek when he handed it to me.  It was almost like, well, it was like how I enjoy doing things for him.  Hmm.  Could it be?  Is Monkey Wrench creeping another step towards Mr. P status?   Oh there’s one more thing.  I think he might be crazy.  Nutz!  I’m ugly.  Not kidding…UGLY.  I’ve never broken out so bad in my entire life.  I have some sort of strange rash on my neck and back and my legs must have been allergic to something we hiked through.  So there I am looking like the sister of the Crypt Keeper, but he doesn’t care…at all.  Looking like that following a long day rock climbing in red dirt I was a disgusting sweaty mess and he acted like I just came out of a total makeover.    Oy.  One brownie point for Monkey Wrench.  (maybe he really is the sweetest thing.  maybe, I'm suspect!)