The Big Reveal

For whatever reason (the weather, womanliness, Valentine's Day), my unrequited crush has really got me in a love funk this week.  Sick of the doldrums, I want to come up with a creative way to push this to a head so I can move past it because nothing seems to be working.  So I decide to imagine that I reveal my feelings to Crush Boy and get turned down - I know I can endure it (I'm a master survivor now) but I want to be prepared for how hard it might be.  Plus, that's just my M.O. with the gentlemen: if I suspect there is a difficult subject to be discussed, I broach it with him.  You get the hard truth a lot easier that way.

So, I picture us in a familiar place surrounded by friends but secluded from the group; so it's private [no one (of our friends) can overhear] but public [no one (of us) can freak out].  I focus on the calm, lighthearted tone I'd use [try to keep my voice from shaking or exposing my yearning] so he feels comfortable telling me the brutal truth ["this is all I want from you"].  I plan out what I can say to express myself clearly but still be able to walk away with dignity after his rejection [the trickiest part - like a magician's act, don't give too much away].  I imagine the rejection [ugh] and what my heart will feel like [deflated] and how to maintain my composure [distract from tears] and precisely what to say to minimize the damage to our friendship and so it's the least awkward possible for everyone involved.  My clear intention is to prepare for the rejection.  It's the whole purpose of playing the "what would I say?" game.

And then the inevitable happens.
I imagine he says yes.  Yes, I've considered asking you out.  Yes, I've thought about being with you. Yes, I want you.
Boy, did that exercise backfire.

An Extra Two Years?!?!

J-Rod's gchat status today was a blog link.  Per usual, while at work and needing a brief mental break from my color-coded tracker, I checked it out.

Now, I don't have any experience dating a "finance guy" but Jack is an insurance underwriter and, let me tell you, they can schmooze, spend lavishly, and silently suffer with the best of the FBFs.  While I think some (okay, nearly all) of the stuff on this blog is ridiculously indulgent whining, it's incredibly hilarious. 

Chuckling through the sob stories, I came across the following pronouncement while reading 'Lauren's':
This recession just bought everyone an extra two years of the single life.  SAVOR IT. 

Holy moly.  I nearly hyperventilated in my chair.  Granted, she was talking to the DABAs (admittedly, not me). And she herself is a DABA (I repeat, not me).  But still... that is not an additional delay I am comfortable with.

Although I am capable of savoring.

George & Martha : The New Cupid & Psyche?

Princess has offered some unparalleled advice on my crush situation. We were gchatting today about life, love, and the housewarming party she missed this weekend. During the discussion, I confessed to a weekend encounter with Crush Boy – which she was very excited about.

While I’m unsure where this interest is actually going, Princess is eager for me to make something happen. Preferably something serious. She suggested I ask him to be my valentine. Naturally, I was repulsed as I have a distinct distaste for celebrating Valentine’s Day – (not of others who do, I just don’t personally enjoy it).

Ceaselessly supportive, Princess countered with the following proposal: “Hmmm...so maybe you ask him to be the George, to your Martha...for President's day on the 16th??!!!!”

Gosh, I love this girl.

Sunday Girlfriend Dilemna

Got an email from Dazzle today with an update on his love life.  Paraphrasing would just detract so here is a short excerpt:

"The usual quest to find a Sunday Girlfriend has hit a little bit of a snag. I have reached an age where most nominees to be a Sunday girlfriend have expectations that the girlfriend status will be extended to the rest of the week and  I am not about to do something crazy like that. The only alternative I see is to start going for younger girls but that leads to a whole new series of problems that I am not ready to confront."

As is customary for my interactions with Dazzle, my immediate response was outrage. [Why would you not want a girlfriend status extended to the other six days of the week?  Misogynistic pig.]  But I have learned to quickly squelch this instinctive hackle-raising, mellow out, and listen again to what he's said. 

And honestly, I see his point.  As fond as I am of romantic relationships, I have been back in the dating world for several months now with very little to show for it.  I've discovered I need approximately two weeks' advance notice to even schedule a date.  When the time comes to actually go on said date, I'm usually bummed to be missing out on whatever my friends have going on. 

Maybe this has something to do with the fact that I have yet to locate that elusive man with the 5 Requisite Qualities.  But still ... this is probably not the expected behavior from me (I'm Couple Girl).  I guess I still have a lot to figure out.  I hope Dazzle gets his Sunday GF.  It would make for a pretty nice Sunday.  And not a lot of hassle Monday - Saturday.

btw, I don't care if they changed it to dilemma.

TOTGA

Ahh, the one that got away. 

Such a popular phrase.  We've all heard it at some point or another - from a variety of sources - in heartfelt earnest - or in clichéd dramatic angst.  But until now, while I've understood its meaning, I've never lamented over TOTGA. 

If you are a mature, moderately analytical person,  remembrances of TOTGA don't necessarily make you sad.  For me, personal disappointment permeates around thoughts of TOTGA.  Knowing that I should have, could have, done better by him. 

Poor Cobes.  Well, not really... because he's fine.  In fact, he seems to be great.  Which is what I wish for him.  And oddly enough, his success makes me proud.  Although I have no right to be ... as I have had little to no influence in the realization of these successes, but still... I'm proud of him.

I realized, our history is special - in spite of how badly I may have messed things up and hurt him.  Well, special to me.  Probably not so much to him.  Hmm ... maybe good for him that he got away.  However, I know that I will always be here for him.  I don't know what Cobes could ever possibly need from me, but if he knocked at my door, there is nothing I wouldn't do to help him.

I'm going to say that's what TOTGA should be about.

Registering for the Race

A lovely gchat session with Princess today was enlightening.  She was asking about my dating world.  I told her not much is going on, that I have adopted the "taking it slow" approach.

Her eloquent advice in response:

"Yes, slow and steady wins the race. But not too slow. You do actually want people to know you're in the race."

The Pact

I stopped in San Jose yesterday on my home after Christmas with the family and had lunch with E. We haven't seen each other face to face in over three years. Absolutely incredible. In fact, last time we got together was right before Jack and I became a couple.

Anyway, E was home from Jacksonville visiting his family for the holiday. We went to Erik's Deli (one of our favorite spots to go together) and chatted forever, catching up on one another's lives. We were laughing about our pact to be one another's fall-back. (You know, where if you and a friend aren't married by the time you're a particular age, you agree you'll marry each other.)

Well, we had decided the cutoff age would be 27. And my 27^th birthday is in two days.

Two years ago, E called me on my 25^th to wish me 'happy day' and eventually came around to a reminder about the pact.  I hadn't thought of it in a while, to be honest.  He clarified that engagement didn't count; one of us actually had to be married by 27 in order for the pact to be void.  Interesting conversation since we were both seriously involved at the time - his gf had moved for him and Jack and I were living together.

So now, true to form, our timing is off.  I'm single but E is living with his longtime girlfriend – his Naval career takes him all around the US and she's followed him to a few states (not all continental) - and he's singing a different tune.  He says it will be a miracle if he makes it through next year - meaning, without being engaged.  Yet, we're not talking wedding plans, so I guess the pact is off.

Guess I should have pulled a Phoebe and backed up my back up.

The 5 Requisite Qualities

• kind
• funny
• smart
• likes me
• I like him back

Sunday Girlfriend

Besides baby brother, the guy I talk to most about dating has got to be Dazzle.  I have no idea how our friendship has evolved into what we now share.  Potentially, it's due to bonding during revivals of drunken Davis traditions (i.e. Picnic Day & Houseboats) and our alliance against technology's misguided efforts to keep us apart.  However it happened, we talk frequently about lots of things, including our love lives - or lack thereof.

So, during our last exchange, Dazzle informed me about his newly-discovered dating desire.  He wants a Sunday Girlfriend.  A what, you say?  Oh, that's right, a Sunday Girlfriend.  I've never heard of this before and I have no idea if it extends beyond the distorted workings of Dazzle's mind. 

Apparently, when the wild carousing of Friday and Saturday night is over, you're recovering from the weekend, and dreading the arrival of the work week & Monday (the merciless, humorless, and  unfailing matriarch of the work week), it gets lonely.  It may occur to you that it would be quite lovely to have a sweet lady, all tenderness and devotion, to wake up to as the glow of Sunday's light steals through your window.  Maybe share a morning quickie followed by the crossword, sudoku, and Post Secret in bed and then brunch with mimosas and bloodys.  Possibly to be followed by an afternoon of football cuddled on the couch or a matinee.  A stroll outside at dusk - preferably with a puppy - would cap off a seemingly perfect day with your Sunday Girlfriend and the two of you would part ways to meet again next week.

Thus, Sunday usually finds Dazzle melancholy and befuddled.  I can't say I blame him.  That Sunday sounds awfully nice.

Bros Before Hoes?

Baby Brother and I have a very unique relationship.  One of the things we're great at is offering sound advice.  Often times, we'll apply to one another in order to better understand the opposite sex.  Needless to say,  the topics of relationships and dating arise. 

Recently, Rose and I were discussing a predicament she'd gotten herself into where men are concerned ... well, the most recent predicament.  She has a thing for two guys who are friends and isn't sure how to handle it.  Since Baby Brother asked me earlier this month to have all my friends review the draft of his Match profile, I figured it was time for him to return the favor and help Rose out.  (And who knows when his insight might be useful to me in the future.)

After explaining the situation to him, this was his counsel: "Males on the prowl put little before their urge to mate.  'Bros before hoes' only goes so far."

Not exactly sure that gave Rose much to work with but it sounds like wily women could could profit from that knowledge.  Regardless, Baby Brother and I are a bro and a ho who look out for each other.  Except I'm not a ho.