Failure

So, I failed. Terribly.

When I said I wasn't going to date for a year, I really meant it. I was all set to do it.

And then I met R. We had been talking online before my decision not to date, and I told him when I made it. We got along well, though, so we decided we still wanted to hang out as friends.

We went to a bar to watch a football game. At some point, I started holding his hand. Eventually, he kissed me. I knew at that moment I had failed.

We've been dating over a month now, and still going strong. He makes me happier than I've been in a long time, and I can see in his eyes that I do the same.

I've never had good luck with blogging during a relationship, so this will be the end of the Date Slut. Wish me luck! :)

The Date Slut Goes Date-less

So begins the grand experiment (tm). Just like the last time I neglected this blog, I got too busy with school and work and (ironically) dating. Unlike last time, I'm returning not to promise to be better about blogging my dates, but to tell you why there won't be any dates this year.

That's right, I'm taking the year off. The plan is for it to be the entire year, though there are apparently some betting pools among my friends of how long I will really last. (That's right, I know about you guys!) No relationships, no dating, and only a few hot-and-dirty rendezvous allowed.

Why am I doing this? Long story short, “The Date Slut” was a really accurate name. I would go on dates with just about anybody. Even when I wasn't in a relationship, I was always dating at least one (usually two, or three, or seven) people. But you knew all about this. I can't even remember the last time I was “truly” single- i.e. not dating anyone at all.

But it's no fun to make a long story short. So here's the more extended version.

I still remember my first date. His name was B.J. (No, really. That's not one of my made-up nicknames.) I was in the 7th grade, and my church youth group took a trip to the gigantic mall the next city over. B.J. and I had just had our first kiss (and my first kiss ever) on the playground the week before. He was an 8th grader, and I thought he was Totally Dreamy. Maybe he reminded me of Hansen, I don't know. So that weekend, off we went to the mall.

For some reason, the youth director chaperoning us allowed us all to go off on our own, with orders to meet back periodically to check in. B.J. and I hung around with my bff for a while, doing such awesome things as shopping at the Disney Store, and having “Date Slut & B.J. 4-Ever” written on a grain of rice necklace. Then he decided we should go to a movie.

We didn't have time to actually watch a whole movie, but of course that wasn't the point. The next one to start was The Talented Mr. Ripley. To this day, I still haven't actually *seen* it. As soon as the previews were over (because, he told me, “I love the previews!”) he started shoving his tongue down my throat and I thought it was the most romantic thing ever. Then we realized we were going to be late and had to run out. Ah, young love.

The next week, he brought me a red rose with a ton of baby's breath to school. Maybe it was Valentine's Day? Regardless, I just “knew” that I was going to be with him forever. Until he decided to dump me shortly after for some blonde chick. I remember wanting to be angsty about it for a long time, but barely being able to keep my sad-face on long enough for my friends to ask me what was wrong.

So my dating life had a less-than-auspicious start. And it's never really stopped. There were a slew of middle-school boyfriends (including two proposals). High school went by in a flash of “who am I dating this week? Oh yeah.” And college (after a brief bout of an unsuccessful marriage) was even more of the same.

I am an independent woman. I've accomplished everything I've set out to do so far, and much of it on my own. Yet there is something that has compelled me to always have someone on my arm, and usually a couple more people waiting in the wings. The point of my dating hiatus isn't soul-searching, believe me, but maybe I'll find out some new things about myself on the way. Even if I don't, dating is so time-consuming! It always manages to derail my best-laid plans, both in the short term (“Well, I usually go to yoga on Monday nights, but if it's the only time you're free...”) and the long term (“Maybe I won't go to that grad school, and I'll stay here with you instead!”) Thankfully no permanent damage has been done to them yet, but I'm looking forward to getting back on track with me.

There is one big obstacle I forsee, though. And no, it's not sex! You'll note that I'm giving up DATING and RELATIONSHIPS. If I tried to give up sex, I'd definitely fail. I'm not going to have random hook-ups, either. I have a couple good guys (some of whom have already been mentioned on this blog) that have graciously agreed to allow me to booty-call them as needed. So self-sacrificing, right?

No, the problem is boredom. One of the biggest perks to me about dating people is having someone to do things with. I love getting out of the house and going on adventures, and dating, especially at the beginning of dating a new person, is perfect for that. Trying new restaurants and activities, having someone to go to the movies with- this is what I'm afraid I'm going to miss. So this year is also going to be an adventure in doing things alone.

I can already promise you now that I won't be updating this blog daily, or even weekly. I am going to try to stick to a monthly schedule, though, both for you guys and for myself. At the end of the year, I am going to reflect on my successes and failures. And we'll see where life takes me without someone on my arm holding me back!

Pie + Bacon = LUV

Several weeks ago, I began chatting online with Spice. He's a 28 year old computer nerd and general geek- right up my alley! But Spice is different in a couple very important ways. For starters, he's also poly. He lives with his girlfriend, whose other significant other is often over. That's right- there are three levels of OSOs. Spice, his girlfriend, her other boyfriend, and that boyfriend's wife. My roommate calls it “the family tree,” which is as good a description as I've ever heard. The limbs branch out and intersect, without necessarily coming back in on each other.

So like I said, Spice lives with his girlfriend. They were once primary partners, meaning they were deeply involved with one another. Now, it seems that they are no less deeply committed, but the nature of their relationship has changed. You see, Spice got really sick several years ago. He eventually received a kidney transplant and got better, but there were some scary times which led to some realizations about both him and his girlfriend. In the end, they decided to still be together, but not in the same way. This means that Spice is in the unique position of already being in a dedicated poly relationship while still looking for a primary partner.

I knew all of this going into our date Friday night. Now, I've done a lot of long-distance online dating, and the first few weeks reminded me of that. Online relationships often lead to quick connections, since you can spend time talking deeply, but the danger is that you only know what they put forward online. Since I was enjoying talking to Spice so much, I was nervous that he wasn't going to live up to it in person. The only way to find out was to go out.

We met for sushi. If you're anything like me, eating sushi is rife with opportunities for low-level humor, of the “that's what she said” persuasion. Yes, I still enjoy “that's what she said” jokes. I'm not too proud to admit it! Even better, Spice does too. We spent the entire dinner talking and laughing and giggling at jokes. It was like we already knew each other; there was none of that first date awkwardness.

Halfway through dinner, he realized that we'd gone somewhere that didn't really have dessert. I'd prepared for that, though, and suggested we walk over to the nearby Trader Joe's and pick up a pie. I have to give credit for that idea to my awesome roommate. Her suggestion was that we eat it on the street somewhere, which sounds wonderfully romantic, but when we bought the pie I realized we didn't have anything to eat it with. So I invited him back to my house.

(A side-note: while at Trader Joe's, Spice needed to pick up a couple things. He explained that there isn't one convenient to him, so it made total sense. He grabbed coffee and buttermilk, but the awesome part was the bacon. He grabbed two packs of the applewood-smoked bacon. Then two more. Then two more. I was nearly rolling in the aisle! Don't worry, he saw the humor in it too.)

After eating the pie we sat together on the living room couch, with me curled up into him. No surprise, it shortly led to making out; it was glorious. I couldn't get enough of his lips. As I remarked to him at one point, it's a sad thing that after two people start sleeping together, they often stop just making out. It should be more than just a means to an end- it's worth enjoying just for what it is.

We did eventually head up to my bed, but nothing happened beyond more making out and a bit of foreplay. Is it still foreplay when it doesn't lead to more? He texted his girlfriend to let her know he was staying over, and we cuddled up to fall asleep.

Until about 4am. That time, it definitely was foreplay. We had to fumble around in the dark for a condom, but eventually everything was in place. Things were a little bumbling, as first times often are, but he was clearly concerned with making sure I was enjoying myself. I most definitely was.

I “enjoyed myself” again in the morning. This time, being able to see what we were doing and not half-asleep, it was even better. His hands were tender yet demanding as he held me; his skin was smooth yet firm to my lips.

We finally dragged ourselves down to breakfast. I was out of almost everything (I'm a master at putting off going to the grocery store), so we had pie and bacon. I loved it.

Spice and I have continued to talk online every day since then. I have to say, whereas I felt smothered by Isaiah, I anxiously await each conversation with Spice. We're going out again this week, so you can expect to see his name again.

Ending the Imbalance the Only Way Possible

I'd been thinking a lot since my last date with Isaiah. It was painfully clear that he liked me way more than I liked him, and that he was looking for something more serious than I can offer right now. I mean, I just got out of a serious relationship less than a month ago! I don't think it's unfair to want some fun right now without commitment.

Like I've said before, Isaiah is very nice. I believe he really tried his best to give me space and not rush things, but that wasn't possible for him. He kept saying “I'm committed to giving you everything you need, including time and space.” All I could hear was “I'm already committed to you.”

So Tuesday night, I called to have “a talk.” I explained that I could tell we were in two different places. I also told him that it was clear we were looking for different things, and although I think he's wonderful and really do like him, I'm not anywhere close to being ready for a relationship.

He got very quiet.

When he finally talked again, there was obvious pain in his voice. He wanted to find a way to make it work (again that line about being committed to giving me time and space.) I explained, though, that it wasn't enough for me. So it was decided that we were done, though he asked that I call him if I ever change my mind.

I've had to have these types of conversations before, and they're never easy. I don't know if it's something about the kind of guys I choose or the kinds of relationships I get into, but that power imbalance between one person who is head-over-heels while the other is still only mildly enthused is never a good place to be.

It Was Nice in the Beginning...

Sunday night, I met the Triathlete for dessert. I'd suggested brunch, but he was off running, swimming, and biking that morning. I've known of the Triathlete for a while as we have several mutual friends, but it wasn't until I recognized him on OKCupid that I got the chance to actually “talk” to him.

He picked me up at my house, right on time, and we headed down the street to an awesome bar/restaurant that serves all locally-sourced foods. He couldn't resist the allure of the salted caramel cupcake with bacon, and I had a delicious peach crumble. If only it had been a la mode.

I had a lot of fun talking to him, and I thought we had a nice balance going of talking and listening. I hate those dates where it feels like one person is doing all the talking. Especially when I'm that person. I hate feeling like I'm on a job interview and I have to give the “right” answers. But it wasn't like that with the Triathlete. I think it helped that we already knew a little bit about each other. Or maybe more accurately, I knew a little bit about him, including his accordion playing and museum work. (I'm starting to wonder if I have a “thing” for accordion players.)

As I write this, though, I'm starting to wonder- how much did he actually ask about me and my interests? We talked about my thesis, and we talked about our political views (I know, never something that should come up on a first date, but we were both in agreement so it wasn't horribly uncomfortable,) but I can't remember talking about “me.” Hm.

We sat at the table for about three hours, sharing a couple beers, and then we decided it was time to head out. We got the check, and I asked my usual question- “do you want to split?” He said sure. I was honestly taken a little aback. It's not that it was a trick question at all- I was totally willing to pay my half- but he'd had twice as many drinks as me, and he let me pay for half the bill. Maybe he didn't realize it? I don't know.

So we walked back to the car and he drove me home. As we arrived at my house, he parked, but kept his seatbelt on. In the words of a teenage girl, he was like, “okay...” and I was like, “okay...” and then he was like “okay...” some more. Finally, I asked for a hug, and he unbuckled his seatbelt and gave me one. There was no attempt for a kiss.

Obviously, this entire exchange left me confused. The date had seemed to have gone well, but the end was just so...strange. I immediately got online to some of my guy friends to get their take on it. There was no consensus- comments ranged from “maybe he's just awkward” to “maybe he doesn't kiss on the first date” to “maybe he wasn't feeling it.” Since I wasn't sure which one of those it was, I decided to go out on a limb and message him again the next morning on the dating site. My message was brief, just a “I had fun, let's do it again?” type of thing.

Then I waited.

Finally, several hours later, I got a response back. It said (very nicely) that he'd sincerely had fun talking, but he wasn't up for another date. The kicker was his closer- “I'm sure I'll see you around.”

So, in case anyone was wondering, I do occasionally strike out.

Twice in One Week

While I was sitting in the Houston airport during my layover on my way home from Seattle, Isaiah called. He asked if I was free Wednesday night for dinner, which I was. He offered to cook, and I have an awesome kitchen at my house, so we decided he would come over and cook here. Or at least, that was the plan- until Wednesday morning, when I noticed my roommate was still home at a time when she would normally be at work. I asked why, and she told me she had pneumonia.

Now, I've never had pneumonia myself, but I can't imagine that it's pleasant. Furthermore, I can't imagine that I'd want to have some random guy my roommate just started dating traipsing around my house while I'm sick with pneumonia. So I called Isaiah and put the kibosh on our dinner plans.

When I told him, he suggested that I come to lunch with him and two of his friends that day instead. I did, and it was really fun- his friends were both really nice and the sushi was great. Afterwards, he invited me back to another friend's house where he is staying for a few days to do a project for her. He offered a shoulder rub, which turned into making out, which turned into screwing in the kitchen. Sorry, Isaiah's friend- I promise we cleaned up everything we touched.

That was Wednesday night. Friday, I had invited Isaiah to join me for a performance of a friend's band. The performance was at 7, but he wanted to get together at 1 and “hang out.” I managed to push that back to “sometime in the afternoon.” So when I was out with two of my friends on Friday afternoon, they suggested he come meet us. He did, things were nice, etc., but I couldn't help but wonder when we'd finally get a date that didn't involve friends.

He came back to my house afterward to kill some time before the show. I'm sure you can figure out what that entailed. Before I realized it, it was 6:45 and I was nowhere near ready to get out of bed and be seen in public. So I missed the show.

And it was probably worth missing the show for. He's very enthusiastic in bed, and definitely has longevity. But that doesn't quite translate into mind-blowing sex. Don't get me wrong- he's good. Just not top-ten.

As we were laying in bed talking, he mentioned wanting to call me his girlfriend. That freaked me out a LOT. I just got out of a relationship two weeks ago! I'm definitely not in a hurry to get back in another one. Plus I don't know if I like him that much yet. He's a very nice guy, and I do have a fun time with him, but there is just something about it that I'm not feeling. I don't know if that's because I just ended things with the Diplomat, or if it's something about Isaiah, but I'm not going to make any big moves right now.

I'm most worried that he wants to hang out daily, while I'm still in the “twice a week may be too often” phase. I need a lot of space even while in a relationship, but especially in the beginning stages of one. When I'm most infatuated with a guy, it'll come out in me wanting to talk to him daily. But there's no way I want to see the same person every day. That was even an issue while the Diplomat and I were spending just about every other night together- I felt like I didn't have enough alone time. Am I unusual in this? What's your sweet spot in how often you see someone you're dating?

In the Immortal Words of Ms. Joplin- Get it While You Can

This weekend, two of my friends got married in Seattle! As a former wedding coordinator (one of my many previous incarnations,) they asked me to lend a hand to make sure everything went well for their day. It was very much a friends and family affair- seven of us took a trip to the farmer's market in the morning to pick up flowers, the bride's aunt tied the bouquets, and the officiant was one of the bride and groom's closest friends in Seattle who was ordained on the internet.

And that officiant. Oh my. The groom had told me ahead of time that the officiant, Antimony* was available, but he hadn't warned me that he was gloriously tall, cute in that needs-a-haircut kind of way, and amazingly sweet. I noticed at the wedding rehearsal and the rehearsal brunch that Antimony was showing me a bit of attention. My suspicions were confirmed (in a good way) when he walked me partway back to my hotel afterward.

It was the next day at the wedding, though, that the we really connected. As the officiant and the official reception emcee, Antimony and I were in constant contact. Even when we weren't doing work-type things, we were hanging out- including sharing bites of the ice cream that the bride and groom had brought in instead of cake (brilliant idea, by the way!) Still, that was as far as it went- some smiles, a bit of touching on the arm, and once I'm pretty sure I laid my head on his shoulder. He wasn't making any moves and I wasn't really willing to put it all out there during our friends' wedding, so things kind of stalled. Then he mentioned that he was flying to Michigan on the red-eye that night, and I figured that was the end of things. I'll admit, I was more than a little disappointed.

When everything was packed up afterwards, I noticed Antimony hanging around even though it was just me and the parents left putting things into cars. I decided it was my last chance, regardless of him flying out that night, and that there was no harm in rejection, so I asked if he would walk me back to my hotel again. He did. When we got there, I asked if he would come up and see my fancy hotel room. He did that too.

As we were looking out the window at the awesome view (I told you it was a fancy hotel room) I laid my head on his shoulder again, and he put his arm around me. As I looked up to smile at him, he leaned down and kissed me. It couldn't have been better if I planned it. He was a very passionate kisser, with his hands on my waist and in my hair and a delicious electricity between us. When we finally broke the kiss, I took a step back and offered him something to drink. He replied, “I'd rather have another kiss.” Believe me, he didn't need to ask twice.

The next thing I knew, we were sideways on the bed, his arms around me and my legs around him. Even with our clothes on, we rotated through several positions while making out- me on top, him on top, my legs over his shoulders, both of us sitting up- and with each change in position, another piece of clothing came off.

We were down to our underwear as I straddled him. That is, until I began kissing my way down his chest and stomach, until I finally got to his boxers. I wanted to see what I'd been feeling, and I was not disappointed. Neither was he, as I kept kissing my way down a little further.

Eventually he pulled me back up to him so I was straddling him again, this time pulling off my panties in the process. With a few strokes, I was in heaven. It was like Antimony was shaped especially for me- he hit all the right places. We're not just talking good sex- we're talking AMAZING sex. Had I known in advance how my body was going to react I would have put a towel down, as the sheets quickly became a sopping wet mess. Afterwards, we lay there close together, my head on his shoulder, talking and laughing and marveling in what we'd both just experienced.

And that was just round one. Before I knew it we were kissing again, and I could feel him pressing into me. I climbed back on. This time, he got tired before finishing again (not that I blame him in the least- he was doing most of the work) so we collapsed back down onto the bed. “I hope you know we're not finished,” he told me. And we weren't. The final round was my favorite. It was a bit slower than the first two, but no less passionate. We held each other close as he moved inside of me until we'd both reached our ends.

For the last time, we lay with his arms around me and my head nestled in his shoulder, caressing each other and watching the sky slowly get dark outside the window. We both had to fight the urge to fall asleep and make him miss his flight to Michigan. Finally, as the street lights came on, we got dressed and I showed him out.

Long live weddings, and the amazing friends who have them.

(*A note on the nickname: Seattle Barista = SB = Sb = Antimony! Yay Periodic Table of Elements!)