Guilt

Guilt. It's a part of some faiths. It's a part of some families. You feel it when you tell that little white lie to get out of an obligation. You feel it when you eat a little too much. I've been feeling it a little much lately, for something other than the aforementioned. This isn't directly related to dating, as there hasn't been too much of that recently, but there are some relationship ties. Teaching. Just the verb itself has a connotation that carries over to the person who performs the action. I can imagine it is like other professions in which you invest countless, thankless hours. It becomes who you are. I don't like that about myself any more. That makes me feel guilty. I should be proud to say that this is what I do. Oh, the guilt.

Over the last year I've been doing some soul searching. I've been trying to find a balance between being grateful for having a job and tolerating it. I am not winning this game. Thus, the guilt. All around me people I love are losing their jobs and I can't stop complaining about mine. For the last few years I've become a smidge jaded about the career path I chose to follow. The system seems to have bogged me down. But, I have a job. Guilt.

I seem to have developed apathy for my job right around the time the economy went down the toilet. Good timing, huh? Here's where relationships come into play. I have this fantastic idea floating around in my head that relationships (mainly marriage) provide you with a sense of security and support. If, as a team, you are stable enough, one of you can take a chance on something else and if it doesn't work out, you won't be asking friends and family to sleep on their couches. If you work as a team, you're not a burden to each other and are able to support each other as you both grow into your ultimate selves. I wish for that kind of stability and support. Someone to pick up the slack every once in a while. Someone to mow the lawn so I can clean the house. Someone to pick up milk (or beer or wine or dinner or dog food) on the way home because I am late getting out of work. I've been managing pretty well on my own (with the support of great friends and family), but what if I want to change something, like my job? That is a pretty big risk for a single 30-something with a mortgage, a dog, and other debt to pay off. And then I remember my friends who have no choice but to be looking for a new job. Guilt, on top of guilt, on top of guilt.

So, here I sit, the night before I'm supposed to go back to work, and I feel sick to my stomach. The distance provided by this summer has not made my heart grow fonder for the job which I return to tomorrow. But I have a job. Where is the balance? I still plan to do my job to the best of my ability because that's how I was raised and I am a professional. I must create some way to enjoy a bit of my job each day; maybe not what I do, but who I get to work with. I could do that.

I am making it known to the world, or at least to those who read this, that I will work my ass off and I will complain about it, but I will strive to make my life better so you don't have to hear me complain any more. I don't know how quite yet, but I will continue to prove that I can take care of myself and work toward finding something that I am passionate about, something that enriches my life, something that doesn't take over my life. Guilt, I hope to see you less and less over the coming months. I don't expect you to disappear over night, but feel free to take a little sabbatical every once in a while.

And I've Only Applied "Crazy" to Men

I have a question: What do I do to attract the crazies? Typically if you read that in this blog, you would assume I was talking about crazy men. Not today, folks, not today. Today I'm talking about the crazy women who were in a man's life both before and after dating me.

My first example is a woman named Melissa. She had dated the last guy I actually called a boyfriend. The first summer we were dating he moved to Alaska to be a pilot for a tourist company. He flew me up there and we had a grand time exploring! On one of the days he had to work, and wasn't able to fit me into the flight, I was at the cabin for a while. I checked my email and was going to check my myspace page. I checked a the pages of a few friends and went to write on the pilot's wall, when I saw a post from Melissa. It turned out he and Melissa were talking again, unbeknownst to me. That, however, was not the problem. The problem was that she seemed to be talking about me in code, asking if they could talk once "granola" went back to Portland. Yes, she called me "granola." Over dinner that night I asked him if they were in contact again, trying to be supportive, but also a little confused as it had previously sounded like this girl was terrible to him. We talked about it for a bit, and never really got anywhere with the conversation. I dropped it, not really worried about this girl in Texas.

Once "granola" returned home to Portland, I received a message from Melissa detailing her relationship with the pilot. Details about how he asked her to marry him and she turned him down. About how in love he had been with her and I would be lucky to have that kind of love from him. Um, anyone catching on to the crazy yet? I don't remember what I wrote, but I responded to her email, trying to be the bigger person and ignore her odd commentary. This happened again, but in a much more aggressive fashion. When I told the pilot, he said he would talk to her. Yeah, sure he would. Her bizarre actions even included logging in to myspace as his cat and posting awful things on my wall. Um, hell-oooo crazy-pants! The pilot and I eventually broke up and I never heard from Melissa again.

As if that wasn't enough, earlier this spring I heard from the ex-wife of another ex-boyfriend. We had dinner in the fall, just two friends catching up. I texted him a few months later asking if he had seen that a restaurant he loved had been changed into a Lucky Lab. Later that day I received an odd text from someone introducing me as Garrett's (fake name) wife. In her texts (yes, she took my number from his phone records.) she accused me of breaking up their less-than-year-long marriage and making frequent visits to their home. I responded with a mellow reply letting her know that I had not been to his house since we had broken up almost five years ago. She proceeded to confide in me all the problems of their marriage. I replied it was none of my business and to not contact me again. Guess who I heard from today! Once again I asked her to not contact me again. Fingers crossed this request sticks!

How do I do it? Do I emit some pheromone that only the crazies respond to? I wonder if there is a medical test I could undergo to see about eradicating my body of these strange chemicals that seem to pull in the crazy. I would pay good money for that test. Out of pocket.

New Adventures

When I was in my early twenties, I was able to have many amazing adventures. I moved across the country to a place where I knew almost no one. I was given a job working in a high-class salon in one of the wealthiest towns in the United States. I played on the beaches of the Hamptons and then went to work in one of the two or three inner-cities of Connecticut. I went to Europe twice. I lived with a boyfriend, who turned out to be full of issues that only seemed to be exacerbated after I moved in. That does a number on your self-esteem, let me tell ya! I travelled to Chicago, Alaska and to Florida. I bought a house. I got a dog; a very anxious and energetic dog I named Gertie. And then the adventures really seemed to change.

Instead of going new places and being exposed to new ways of life, I was watching other friends get married and start popping out little ones. They were having new types of adventures with another person. My life seemed to stop progressing. I didn't move to a new place. If I actually met someone I thought was worth keeping around, it didn't last more than a couple of months. The only thing that seemed to change on a consistent basis was the increase in how much money I had saved at Gertie's veterinarian. This was not how I had envisioned my life. I was supposed to be on the same track as everyone else. I was supposed to be in a great relationship and paying off student loan debt. Instead, it felt like everyone else was doing it except me.

I started to accept that maybe my life wasn't meant to be one exciting adventure after exciting adventure. I started to accept that boring was was supposed to be the ultimate description of my life after the age of 30. What an awesome way to view the rest of your life, eh?

A few months back, I was talking to a friend who shared some newly discovered words of wisdom. She is one of my few truly single friends and, other than having a dog, have very similar lives at this point. We both own our homes, have good jobs, are fun women, but neither of us have had a stable significant other in a significant amount of time. We both have watched friends marry, get knocked up, push out a beautiful baby (insert given sex here) and start on a new adventure. We both have felt just plain stuck in life. However, on this one particular day I learned that she had been given a new way of looking at our so-called-lives (Jordan Catallano, you will always be in my heart.). I can only attempt to put it as eloquently as she did. Essentially, our lives are less exciting, but they are still our lives. We still need to spend each day doing something we enjoy. We still need to take every experience and evaluate its benefit to our lives. We still need to look at every first date as an experience that will, hopefully, lead us to someone who will fit our lives. We still need to live our lives...even if it means listening to some guy say, "I digress" at the end of every statement he makes while eating pizza and trying to impress his dinner companion (Yay, that was me. Lucky girl, huh?). Yes, I still need to live every moment to its fullest, even if I'm falling asleep while on a first date. It all comes back to the experiences. Here's to hoping an evolving mindset leads to an ever-evolving life.

Degrees

To keep myself from seeming like a complete b with an itch, I want to pose a question instead of going off an a rant. Within the last few weeks, I've gone out with three very different guys. Two of these eligible bachelors have at least their bachelor's degree, the third left college after two years. All three had things to offer: good conversationalists, attractive, good jobs, interesting. Here's the catch, the two with degrees felt like a better fit. Was it just that those two guys were better fits in general, or was it something more than that? This is not the first time this sort of question has made an appearance in my conscience, but it's the first time I've admitted it.

If you've read any of my other posts, you know the variety of guys I've dated. Some have been high school graduates, some have been working on their doctorates. Some have been brilliant some have not been so bright. Some have been ready for a relationship, some have not. So, I need your help. Is there something to having a degree that makes someone a better fit for me or am I just making up reasons in my head for why some dates turn into relationships (granted not many!) and why some don't?

Trends

I do not consider myself to be a trend follower. When it comes to fashion, I prefer more classic styles, with a touch of trend. I can't justify spending money on big ticket items that will be out of style by the next season. A small dose of trendiness makes clothes I've had forever seem new! So if I choose not to follow fashion trends, why, oh why, do I allow myself to follow dating trends?

Every so often, I'll start dating a new guy and am overcome with a feeling of de ja vous. No, it's not that I've unknowingly dated a guy twice. I've had some do-over relationships but always with a full and clear knowledge of who I am getting involved with. Still, that creepy, been-here-done-that feeling sneaks in, and, instead of taking it as a warning, I suppress it and fall hard.

Over the last ten years, I have dated my fair share of men. Some have had similar jobs. Some have had similar cars. Some have even had the same name. When I met and started seeing the sixth John, a friend of mine threatened to sing "Henry the Eighth I Am," but replace Henry with John. These are all benign trends.

They usually begin the same way. The first couple of dates are amazing and I go home thinking, "Wow, I've finally met a normal guy!" That should be my first clue that something is not right. From there on out, I can tell that something is not quite right, but can't seem to grow the cajones necessary to ask about it or just stop dating the guy. Eventually, it ends and I find the next Mr. Needs to Be Fixed.

After a recent relationship ended, I was talking to a friend, a little baffled at what had happened. Mid-discussion, I had a bit of an epiphany. Since college, almost EVERY guy I have had a significant relationship with has had a past major trauma in his life. From messy parent divorces to drug addiction to drug dealing to being cheated on, I've tried to be the girl to fix the broken man. I am that girl who attracts the wrong men. Now, I am not without my own faults and baggage, and not every guy has had issues, but, good night, how does this happen? I'm the girl that bad romantic comedies are based around.

What an amazing accomplishment it would be to be the girl with whom he settles down and gets his life together! While I haven't ever consciously made the decision to try and fix someone, somehow it seems to seep into my pheromones and attract these men. How does this happen? Is it possible to subconsciously follow trends?

Perhaps trend-follower is the wrong term. Maybe magnet is more suitable to the situation. I understand that magnetism is a scientific concept, but I may have to find a way to defy science. Here's to beating science, trends, bad choices, ignoring gut feelings, and not being the girl in the movies! Wish me luck; I have a date on Thursday and he has an awesome name.

Just Call Me Liz Lemon

I have been on enough first dates to last a lifetime. I wish I could say that more of them have worked out for the best and resulted in second, third, even fourth dates, but they haven't. Some of these first dates have just fizzled. Some of these have not moved forward because he wasn't interested. Others have been because of an ever-expanding list of deal-breakers occurring on the first date. Yes, you read correctly, deal-breakers. While I don't have my own book like Liz Lemon, this list is simply in regards to first dates from which I have been asked for a second. All gentlemen in these anecdotes were denied.

So, (drum roll please...) here it is, ladies and gentlemen, the

Top 10 (give or take a few) List of Deal Breakers that Guarantee There Will Not Be a Second Date!

#13: I'm good at everything.

During the conversation, you learn that this guy is either extremely confident or so lacking in self-esteem that he has to build himself up with stories. Often these stories are about a sport or his job. My most recent first date could not stop talking about how good he was at tennis. Oh, and that he just recently started playing. Congratulations on your new-found skill. Now get over yourself.

#12: He doesn't even offer to pay.

This may make me sound like I am walking out of 1954, but I am okay with that. Despite women's lib and all that went out of vogue with it, I still believe in chivalry. I am always willing to pay my share, but there has to at least be the silly, pretend argument over who is going to take care of the check. Really, this has only happened once, but it made an impression!

#11: Mentions our grandchildren

I have been in long term relationships in which we don't even mention our possible, future grandchildren. Letting that one slip over pre-dinner drinks is jumping a gun the bit, don't you think? I sure do.

#10: He can't stop talking about "his music"

I appreciate music. I love listening to music. I have great respect for those who are involved in the process of creating it. However, I also appreciate moderation. Please stop telling me about your amazing song-writing skills and singing voice, and how good you are at playing acoustic guitar. (See #13) This gets especially fun when he starts dropping names of music execs at NBC he is trying to get a demo tape to.

#9: Lives with his grandparents in their attic

Not only does he not look anything like his profile picture (yes, this was an on-line dating experience), but he also lied about his living situation. Talking about working around the house tends to imply that you own your home. 'Fess up, kiddo.

#8: His hands are smaller than mine

I'm sorry, but I like to be the girl (ie. smaller than the guy). Small-hands Greg is a perfect example of this situation. He was a very nice guy I met while at one of my favorite bars in Stamford, Connecticut. Small-hands Greg was funny in that dry, sarcastic way and he made me laugh so I agreed to go out to dinner with him. Dinner started off fine, but then he started talking, and used his hands -- a lot! I couldn't help but notice that his hands were smaller than mine. That was it, date over.

#7: Accepts multiple phone calls during dinner

Now typically this would a giant red flag that he was not interested. Funny thing is, I got a phone call the next day asking when we could go out again. Are you seriously asking me to endure another evening of listening to your phone conversations? I'm good, thanks.

#6: Wears white dress pants to meet for happy hour

First of all, what guy wears white dress pants that aren't linen to an event that is not a wedding or prom? Secondly, not two hours before we were supposed to meet, he texts me asking how dressy is the place we're going. I tell him it is pretty casual. Apparently for him, that meant taking the pants of a white tux and pairing it with a Volcom shirt for drinks at 5:30 PM on a Sunday. Ladies, I don't care how good you think you are at fixing a boy, that is not a fixable problem.

#5: Doesn't walk me to my car

Okay, I know I've mentioned this before. It really bothered me that when, unbeknown to me, we got to his car he asked where I had parked. I say, "Two blocks down there." He says, "Oh, okay. Well, I'm right here." He gives me a hug and gets in his car. Yes, he was denied on the second date request.

#4: One sentence answers

Maybe he was nervous, but so was I and I was forming answers with multiple, complete sentences! This is simply unacceptable and exhausting.

#3: Complained about everything

From traffic to his parking spot. From the lack of ice cubes in his glass to the plethora of Sweet and Low on the table. From the day he had at work to his cat clawing the arm of his couch. Again, exhausting! The nice side of me thought that maybe, just maybe, I should give him a second chance and then I thought for a little bit longer. Nope, not gonna do it.

#2: Doesn't ask any questions

I am seeing a theme with the last few; they are all exhausting experiences while trying to stay positive and interested and charismatic. This date simply spent the entire evening talking about himself, and then making judgments about how he believed I would have dealt with a situation/person/idea. Oh. My. God.

And finally.....

#1: Throws out the ol' "I'm separated, but not divorced yet" line. Awesome. This is promising only on opposite day buddy.

Well, there ya have it! I can only hope that my number of first dates left in this dating universe is slowly dwindling.

Talk about a small town...

Seven years ago this week I packed up my Volvo sedan, scraped the muffler on the driveway as my dad and I pulled out of the driveway and took off for good, ol' Darien, Connecticut. I was running away from the confining social circle that was, and apparently still is, Portland, Oregon. Once there, I defended Portland's size, but in my heart knew the truth. I had long been experiencing the ultimate in small world/town situations.

After graduating from college I found myself back in Portland, living at home, and trying to find my way socially and career-wise. Career-wise, I decided to go back to school the following spring; talk about easy way out! My social life was a little more complicated. I was still close with my ex from college, and had become good friends with many of his friends; those of you who know me well know I don't believe in making anything easy for myself. During that year and following years, I found myself dating/hanging out with guys who had varying degrees of connections to this small social group. After dating the step-brother of a close friend, I realized I needed to get the hell out of Dodge. That's when I decided to run away to the East Coast.

Unfortunately, seven years later, things have not improved. The circle may have expanded, but old habits die hard. Last night I met up with a couple of newer running friends I hadn't seen for a while. When I walked into the bar, I ran into an acquaintance, who happens to be friends with the aforementioned group and a different group of friends. I say hello, we catch up for a bit and he lets me know that a couple of the other guys from the group will be showing up...one of which I had been previously hanging out with, but hadn't seen for a while. Awesome. This was made even more awesome because one of the friends I was intentionally meeting up, was also someone I had been hanging out with earlier this year. (I really love the vagueness of that phrase!). So, here I am catching up with a good girlfriend and a guy I had a major crush on, when another former crush walks in the door. Not a bit awkward, not a bit.

The best part of this whole situation was that, originally, neither of my running friends knew my connection to these guys. They thought I was just getting hit on by these three random boys...ha, ha, ha!

The three of us finish our beers, and May (not her real name), Manny (not his real name), and I head out. May and I are now off to a party on a boat, and Manny is off to meet up with other friends. As May and I head off I fill her in on the specifics of what just happened at the bar, and that we are headed to a party being thrown by a guy I used to date.

If there ever was a reason to move again...