Saturday Night Fever

Ok so I may not have an actual fever, but I don't feel so great.

I had every intention of going out. I even had plans. A bday party in fact. But instead, I conceded to my sore throat and feeling crappy.

Yet instead of feeling insanely proud for my responsible behavior, I feel like I am wasting an opportunity to meet people.

Sure, I am ridiculously excited about what has been on today's TV line up (Ghost Dad, Remember the Titans, My Big Fat Greek Wedding, Dazed and Confused, The Brothers etc.). But now that it's 11:22 and I'm watching Runaway Bride, wondering where the heck my Richard Gere is, I'm wondering if this behavior is worse than actually getting sick?

So this is why I'm 0 for 4.

Ladies...crap.

Getting "set up"

So in theory, this is the jackpot.

A friend, a co-worker (and at this stage in our lives, lets be honest, a family member or four) wants to set you up. In fact, they are dying to. Great! They know you, love you, or at least maybe sort of like you and will be sure to set you up with someone that they think is equally great. Then you fall in love, get married and make the matchmaker babysit your kids so you can still have fun.

Or. Your friends feel bad for you and try to set you up with anyone or anything that might be slightly available.

But they never actually do. Or they realize that no one else they know is single. But when anyone finds out that there's an ACTUAL challenge (not acknowledging that being single is enough of a challenge), then they get really excited. Call it human nature, cruelty, or boredom.

Last night a co-worker of mine found out about said 16 dates and her enthusiastic response was "Ohh, I've got it! My friend just broke up with this girl. I don't really think he's interested in getting involved though. You actually may not be into him. I'll set it up! ...oh, and I hope you like Indian guys."

Compatibility? Out the window. Breathing? It's a start.

Neighbs

Dear boys next door,

Please stop bringing home the entire cast of the Real World New Orleans circa 2am.

Please stop doing it and flaunting it in front of a woman desperately seeking sexual intercourse.

Please keep it down after midnight. I don't want to hear any climaxes.

Please let me know if you'd be down for a little date if/when I don't reach my goal.

Please tell me you are at least 25.

Love,
4A

Dating without digits

Ok, we've gone on five dates. We've swapped saliva, shared stories about past relationships and have even talked babies. (Hey, I didn't bring it up.)

But we have yet to exchange numbers.

Since when did the digits exchange become the new third base?

What am I missing here, ladies? Is he afraid of me calling to check in on him? 4am booty calls? Calling him in the middle of a board meeting?

Seriously, just give me your effing number.


Frustrations aside, I will admit not having those 10 numbers has saved me from what would have been some really inappropriate drunk texts. Or sexts, as the kids say.


Also, can someone please confirm these posts can't be traced back to me? My dating career would be dunzo if I were found out.

My mom does not approve

So I am feeling guilty.

I told my mom about Sixteen Dates. (Note: this conversation probably wouldn't have happened had I not been at my parent's house for the past 10 days. Also why I am posting two blogs in a row).

She was with me until I got to the part about what happens to the girl who does not get her four dates (i.e. Staten Island Stud).

"Oh Trin (my nickname, pronounced trEEn with a thick Chicago accent). That's meeeeean (emphasis on the long e sound). You're going to get his hopes up just to crush him."

I tried to explain that it's just one date and no one expects a relationship after ONE date. Plus we aren't going to be mean to him in person.

(To my dad, who is sitting in the same room) "Hun, did you hear what your daughter is doing?"

The next day...

My mom and I are watching tv and she asks me out of the blue, "This guy, what if he does find out?"

I realized she was referring to SI Stud and assured her, "HE WON'T!"

A few days later in the car...

Again, out of the blue. "So I have an idea, Trin, for this date thing. How about the girl who doesn't get all of her dates has to do something crazy. Like sing karaoke in Times Square in front of everybody...and you guys can choose the song she has to sing!"

Ok, my mom is obviously very bothered by this. Should we be? Are we cold and heartless and that is why we are single??

An addendum to The Rules

So ladies, now that we are all members of the online dating world, I am proposing a new rule. crazyblinddate.com is currently undergoing programming changes, but assuming it is up and running before September 15, I think we should all have to make one of our four dates come from this site...

Thoughts??

On Dating: Part 1

i cannot, to save my life, just have a good time.

it's just not possible.

if we have a good time (which we somehow always do, save the jugglers and tumblers), i need to know:

a. if you like me;

b. how much;

c. when i can stop playing it cool and tell you that i really like you;

d. when we can move past the formal bullshit; and finally

e. when i can move in, get married, and have babies.

amiright?

KG + MB take on online dating...

So we are taking on MB's venture to the online world.

Step 1: Sign up. MB now signed up for OKcupid, Howabout we and Herway.

Step 2: Managing rules and expectations. Ok just expectations. We've taken on several learnings:
a) "pensive" is not the adjective you want to be used to describe a profile pic
b) if we have to give three reasons why we should click on ur profile, it's not worth a click

Step 3: Convincing MB that a fake surname, aka Sarah Burns, does not benefit anyone.


This blog was brought to you by Keyaccess errors and MB and KG collabo.

xoxo

the ladies

Is this really happening.....

Ladies

I have to apologize for hiding from all of this until now. I can pony up about a million of too busy excuses - however I'll keep it all legit and just admit that I'm just really scared and I really don't know about all this online dating jazz.

yep - I'm an online dating virgin. So much so - that I've talked KG into schooling me in online dating 101 in exchange for dinner this evening. She's already given me a homework assignment of finding my best pics - I hate this already.

I'm so nervous I'm actually just considering walking around NYC with a Sandwich board that says "I need 4 Dates to win a bet". Guys love to win bets - it might work better than this whole exposing myself to the online creepers of the world.

So ladies - help me out - where do I go, what do I post???

AHHHH - and yes - KG and I will be sure to post plenty this evening as we consume copious amounts of wine and create my online persona.

till tonight.....

DTC #3

I met him once. At KG's bday. Circa 10 months ago.

Where he pissed me off by telling me to forget my boyfriend, promptly left the party, and had the waitress bring me free drinks for the rest of the night.

Almost a year later, he wants to take me out. Only he's in Madrid. Until September.

"a menos que quieras venir a madrid de vacaciones no podemos hacer otra cosa!"

Judges (aka Charisse), PUHlease let this count.

Date Report: Weekend 2

Let me go ahead and say there is no date report.

I had no dates this weekend.

You want lame excuses? It was hot. The kind of hot where you walk five blocks, hop in Duane Reade to get water, realize that you smell like a sweaty homeless person, hop over to Sephora and throw on some perfume, then apologize profusely when you're 10 minutes late for the movie.

But I did make some progress in the AC. Highlights below:

1. Got a few lines out on Okcupid and HowAboutWe. OkCu, I will take back all the bad things I said about you if you will just follow through on this one cutie. Give me one date, and I'm sure he'll fall in love with me and we'll get married and make little babies and live happily ever after.

In other online news, dude on HowAboutWe wants to go on a road trip. I'm like, HowAboutWe meet first!!? Creepster.

And if you needed another red flag, he offered what is the scariest word in my date vocabulary: CAMPING. [Shivers.]

2. Gave the meat man my email and digits. I mean, it was for the restaurant's mailing list, but he asked for it. Oh, and he gave me more free food and flirty winks. The looming question: does he think I'm fat or cute?

3. Date 5 with my 37yo lover is on Tuesday. Leaving the details out of this because a. I actually really do like this kid, and b. it doesn't count for our sixteendates.

Ok, now I need to go run off these 3lbs of meat I just ate. Oh, the things you'll do for love.

Does this Count (DTC) #2:

If you exchange saliva, but not phone numbers, it does not count.

If the hang out happens only post midnight, it does not count.

If you do not know his name, it does not count.

Update: 24 hours later, no word from juggles.

Feeling a teeeny bit guilty that I was perhaps too dismissive...

Whatevs. On to date #2!

When it doesn't count (but you really want it to)

A helpful addendum to the rules.

1. He may be adorable. No, hot. And flirty. And ask you to lunch. And pick up the tab. But he's married. And there are kids involved. [Note to self: just because someone pays for your meal, it doesn't mean they want to get in your pants... I think.]

2. Reconnecting with an old friend. Who has since grown into a handsome man. No, a hot man. Recently moved to city. Meeting for dinner. And although it is yet to be confirmed (aside from a few suspecting FB photos) and despite the fact that he just graduated from Yale divinity school, he has officially come out. [Note to self: no matter how much you love gay men, they'll never love you like you want them to.]

3. It's a late night at the office. And as the sky gets dark and the office clears out, that not-so-cute guy on the same floor is looking like the perfect dinner date. And a much better alternative to Staten Island hottie. But don't do it. Just don't. [Note to self: you should probably stop blogging and leave the office. Like now.]

For the record, none of the above makes me a desperate dater. I'm just a very loving girl.

Does this count???

Sometimes, it's hard to tell. It don't matter if you're black or white, but then there's that grey area...so when in doubt, just ask. There are 3 others so there will always be a winning answer.

So for the record:

NO, going out to a platonic lunch with a man who is happily (or unhappily for that matter) married with 3 kids does not count as a date. Even if he's Latin. It can count towards practice fake caring about other people's children's pictures, but not at date.

KP, your method is not too off...

Interesting article ladies...
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/22/fashion/22date.html?_r=1

juggles and tumbles

things i learned on my first date:

1. you should always warn your date at least 24 hours in advance if there is even the slightest chance that we'll be meeting your parents. and your uncle. and your parents' six close friends.

2. if your dad is uncle frank from home alone 1 & 2, you probably shouldn't withhold that until i read it in the playbill. in fact, this is the little known fact that will give you the keys to my apt.

3. shakespeare is probably not the best activity for a first date. the moment i look at your hand and start thinking about if it's actually moving toward me and what do i do if you touch me and how i will tell you i'm not interested, i've already missed the first three scenes. thou hast been losteth.

4. you performed in the circus your mom directed throughout your childhood? ok, cute fun fact. you still juggle and tumble recreationally? probably a fact you want to save until date 10. just sayin.

5. when i opt out of a free meal and drink, you know something ain't right. when i duck and run in avoidance of the goodnight kiss, you know it's time to go.

6. lastly, probably shouldn't go on a date with someone you aren't attracted to, especially when he is friends with good friends, not to mention your boss. stay tuned to find out how this can possibly end well.

Will the real Cameron please stand up?

After the Digits Disaster, I went back to okcupid determined to get one date in before I left town for two weeks. I continued messaging the only cute and normal guys on the site and did not hear back from any of them, per usual. (Note: the only guys that message me are ones that say things like, "You should try tickle sessions sometime if you want a real adventure" followed by IMs informing me "I'm tickling your feet right now." Needless to say, I disabled the IM feature immediately.)

I FINALLY got a response from a seemingly normal and attractive guy (tall, dark hair, sexy facial hair, architect, lives in Brooklyn, profile pic taken at PS 1). These details were good enough for me. He actually messaged on Sunday and suggested that we meet up that night if I wanted to. HIS SUGGESTION. I gave him my number and he texted that evening. We determined a place and time. It was official. Shit.

I started to get really nervous. My friend made me a White Russian to ease the nerves, but all it really did was ease my bowels. My arm pits began sweating profusely. When I hopped in a cab, I demanded the cabbie turn on the air conditioning immediately to dry the pit stains that were starting to form. I got really panicky and started thinking to myself, I don't do dates. Especially sober ones. Usually I'm wasted, make out with a guy at a bar, and somehow a long-term relationship follows. Probably not the best way to do things. But it's the only way I know.

When I got to The Bar, I noticed a guy outside the front door playing on his phone. He had dark hair and a beard. This might be him (let's call him Cameron for anonymity's sake). I mean, Cameron only had one picture posted on Okcupid, and it was more of a side shot. It was hard to tell. I timidly went up to him and asked,

"Are you Cameron?"
"What?"
"Are you Cameron?"
"Uh, no."
"Oh."
Awkward.

I stepped inside and immediately the real Cameron turned and looked at me. We both smiled knowingly. He got up to greet me (slightly awkwardly) and I told him the mistake I had just made. We laughed. I ordered a PBR from a bartender who was singing an 80s ballad at the top of his lungs to me for a solid minute. The awkwardness finally passed and it turned out to be a great night. Good conversation. Cute guy. No kissing but a hug at the end of the night and talk of a second date when I got back to NYC.

So one date down. Three to go. Staten Island Creep, I feel slightly more confident saying I won't be seeing your wallpaper-bordered basement any time soon. Save those trashy bangs and fuzzy white robe for another girl.

I hope I'm not eating these words come September 15.

Desperate times call for desperate measures

Out of all the ways to pick up men in the city, I didn't foresee handing a crumpled piece of paper with my number and a message saying "You're cute! Call me!" as a viable option. Until last Thursday.

Yes, it's come to this. I've been single almost three months now. How could I resort to something so desperate in such a short amount of time, you ask? Four reasons: unemployment, living alone (i.e. not talking to other humans for the majority of the day), an unhealthy dependency on The Bachelorette, and many failed Okcupid attempts.

So last Thursday, after one too many forkfuls of pork belly fat and cured meat, I stood on W. 72nd sheepishly eying a hot guy talking on his cell phone, presumably on a business call. He seemed unaware that I was standing a few feet away giggling with KT like a 12-year-old girl while she began frantically searching for a scrap of paper to write my digits on. Our conversation went something like:

"You can do this! It's going to be awesome!"
"I'm scared! My stomach hurts!"
"Just do it! He'll be flattered!"
"I can't! It's too embarrassing...oh wait, he has an accent! Ok, ok! Fuck it! I'm doing it!"

I awkwardly handed him the piece of paper without saying anything (to which he said, "Cheers!" not exactly sure of its contents) and quickly walked off, mortified, without looking back.

"Best. Story. Ever." KT said to me after rounding the corner onto Broadway. I told her that if this was a romantic comedy, he would have texted me already saying something like, 'Wait! Where did you go?' But, alas, that didn't happen. He did end up texting me at 11:30 p.m. asking what I was up to. Full-fledged booty call. I texted him the next afternoon (I'm not THAT desperate) asking if he wanted to hang out that evening. No response. Haven't heard from him since.

Potential Date 1 of 4. Fail.

Lesson #1: Dont sign up for online dating at work

So I went through the "quick and easy" process of signing up for a new "up and coming" dating site. I made sure that all this action was happening on my smaller screen, making the windows as small as I could, while still being legible. After steps 1-4 and then adding a quick picture screen-grabbed from Facebook (and then a little Facebook stalking, just to be fair) I completed the process, closed out all windows and then clicked a link confirming completion. Then I took a bathroom/"socializing with Megan" break.

Then I came back to THIS:


My office has no walls. And the screens are huge. And now there's a GIANT profile pic of myself with a large headline "Welcome to Herway" on my screen (for what had probably been 10-15 minutes). Not to mention the unfortunately ambiguous name Herway.

So now my office either thinks I am on a lesbian dating group, a spokesperson for tampons, or joining a feminist rally.

Awesome.

This is what I call motivational support

Let's get a couple of things out of the way before we begin: yes, it's 10pm on a Saturday night, and yes, I'm sitting on my couch half naked surrounded by the remnants of sushi delivered four hours ago and two unopened books on how to more effectively manage men in the workplace. I would have a glass of wine in hand, but last night began with an excess of champagne and ended with a scene that was eerily familiar to that time I OD'ed on Sparks and ended up halfway across the city alone on a public bus circa 3am.

Only this time I'm a grown up and said scene involved colleagues. Precisely why I'm locking myself in tonight and blogging about other people being lame.

Great. Now that you've all started judging me, let's all judge someone else. Take a look at this lovely profile pic from the epic fail that is OkCupid:

This is a real dude. He's 28, lives on Staten Island, "loves to party," and you guessed it, he's looking for a lady.

One of us is going to make his wildest dreams come true.

That's right. Romeo here is our punishment.

Don't make your date quota? You get a night out on the Staten Island ferry with this winner. (Note: he goes for the arm around your shoulders just as you pass the Statue of Liberty. Works every time.)

Now, before you're all, Seriously, look at this man. Get off your ass and start handing your number out on the street or something, (Congrats again, KP. Masterful.) let me remind you that I have a date tomorrow night. [Note: Sunday dates are really great for those times you want to avoid the whole, "it's midnight, we've had two bottles of wine, are we parting ways or making out at your place" thing. Maybe it's because Sundays are for going to church and eating mom's pot roast and mashed potatoes or maybe it's just that we'd really rather not start the week off with a hangover and messed up hair.]

I digress. Back to Romeo, our new-found motivation to find 4 dates in 2 months. Note the XL furry robe hanging on the door, which is what our little friend wears to get from the bathroom he shares with his chain-smoking mom and her 37-year-old boyfriend to the basement each morning where he puts on this t-shirt and starts work on the new website for Crystal's Closet in Jones County, NJ.

Ladies, we can do better than this.

I could sit here and lie to you, talking about how fun dates are, it's great meeting new people and learning what exactly an investment banker/analyst/corporate lawyer does, blahblahblah. But let's be honest: this is our real motivation. Don't get stuck in a basement on Staten Island drinking Coors Light and watching Star Wars with this dude.

(And yes, I'm well aware the above judgments reflect poorly on me and quite possibly represent reason #467 why I'm single.)

Lastly, since I really am a compassionate, thoughtful, humble woman, my apologies to this guy. Really. I'm sure you'll find the love of your life when you're hanging out at the Cold Stone Creamery on Friday night.

Chances are I'll still be single.

Here we go...

These days, there’s a thousand ways to meet people in the city. Dating sites. Group happy hours. Coffee Shops. Bars. And those uncanny but cute romantic comedy type moments that no matter how many times you try to recreate, will only happen once. The point is, it’s easy. Or at least should be.

So as four single ladies in the second half of our 20’s who keep losing more and more friends to team “relationship,” we decided it was time to get off our asses and actually do something about our single situations. So we proposed a challenge.

4 girls. 2 months. 4 dates each. That’s 60 days, 16 dates and a lot of hilarious and hopefully awkward attempts, asides and anecdotes.

The rules are simple.
1. No recycling (despite it being good for the environment, it’s just not getting us anywhere).
2. Any planned meet up counts (read: meet up, not make out)
3. 4 different people. 4 dates with the same person counts as 1. (aka don’t be lazy)

At the end of the 60 days, we will celebrate over a sushi boat. Anyone who doesn’t fullfill their end of the deal pays for copious amounts of drinks and raw fish.

NYC men, we apologize in advance.