Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match!

No, I have not abandoned WWBD? for my PAB (Potential Actual Boyfriend), but instead have been having extreme internet difficulties. I can't very well blog at the cute neighbor's house, now can I? But just to prove how dedicated I am, I blog to you now from work. Now. What to write?

Ah, yes. My sudden need to set everyone up with someone else. It all started with Fenella and McNerdy. I sensed a mutual attraction, then merely planted the seed (by individually giving them my permission to make out) and voila! Worked like a charm. Now I want to set up everybody else I know.

The problem is, that perhaps for the first time in the history of the world, I have two single (straight) men ready and willing to be set up, and no takers. How can this be?

Case #1: D.B.
D.B. is a softball teammate of mine. He's cute, he's nice, and he's extremely funny. I had him in mind for my roommate before the two even met, and sure enough, when they (very briefly) met at our now infamous party with the make-out corner used by both me and Fen (first together- strictly conversation-, then separately with other people) D.B. said to me on his way out the door, "Thanks for inviting me, your roommate's really hot." Yesssss! I thought. I knew it! AND D.B. is totally my roommate's type. But when I suggested him to her, she was very resistant to it. She's recently told me that she's in need of a man, and here I am, ready to help.

To make matters worse, she told me the other night that she had a pseudo date with a guy, but probably won't go out with him again because he's "too nice."

Ladies. Seriously. Can we stop dumping guys for being "too nice?" All we ever do is complain about the lack of good men out there, and when we get one that is good, we don't what that either. After pointing this out to her, I reminded her about D.B., who is nice, but I don't think "too nice" and I think I may have put a crack in her resolve. It may be just a sliver, but if anyone has the stubbornness to turn that sliver into a date, it's me.

Case #2: The Umpire
Oh, The Umpire. What can I say? It was a few months ago that The Umpire could not stop singing the praises of his current lady love after maybe about 2 weeks or so. She dumped him. He went into a deep funk. Then he came to our party and laid eyes on my downstairs neighbor. Apparently, once he spotted her, everything around him stopped, the skies opened up, and he heard music. Seriously. That's what he told me. He chatted her up, got her number, and actually called the next day (then called me to tell me about the message he left). He had their first date all planned out before he left the party.

First, she told him she needed to take an "extended raincheck" as she was very busy. (File that one away, it could come in handy.) Then today he forwarded me a text she sent him that was a very polite rejection text, explaining that she just didn't have the time right now. I told him to move on and that I would think of anyone I might know. I texted the cute neighbor to ask if he thought our other neighbor and mutual good friend would go out with him. He said no way. Now I'm racking my brain to think of anyone else who might be able to handle The Umpire. But before I do, I need to have a little conversation with him about coming on too strong. I'm sure that's what happened with the last girl, and probably my neighbor as well. He just gets sooo excited about them, and I have to say, that would be a bit disconcerting.

So. Any takers?

Moving On. And on, and on...

On Wednesday, Fenella and I had our monthly skype date, a conversation that never fails to approach the two-hour mark. She expected to have to spend those entire two hours consoling me over the loss of the Dark Horse. She was surprised to find that I was and am pretty much over it.

This should not come as too shocking. With one glaring exception (I'm looking at you, McNerdy) I've gotten over people with alarming quickness. So much so that I wonder if something is indeed wrong with me. I'm a true ice queen. When my Ex and I broke up after four and a half years, I think I cried once. Once! And that wasn't so much to mourn him as it was the life that I expected that was no longer. I have just always known that I deserve nothing less than 100% adoration and devotion. If someone is not willing or simply can't give me that, then I am simply no longer interested in them. End of story.

There had been no communication between the Dark Horse and me since Saturday morning, and I knew he was waiting for me to break that ice, so I called him on Wednesday. I told him that I wasn't angry and that there were no hard feelings, and I thought I should probably tell him that. He was happy and relieved to hear that. I'll see him sometime next month, but there's no rush. Don't want to push it.

While I'm doing just fine, I've been worried about my friend, The Umpire. The Umpire is a good friend of mine who also got dumped this week. He has also confirmed my theory that with men, it's all about timing. I know for a fact that he's been actively seeking a relationship. He had been dating the girl for barely a month. After three weeks, he had told me he was practically off the market. They already had holiday plans together, which I believed included him spending Christmas with her family. Then out of nowhere, she told him it wasn't going to work out. He's been a wreck all week.

Apparently, men and women are not all that different. He told me it's taking all his willpower not to call her. He can't stop asking the question why? What happened? I told him it's Friday night. We're going out.

And how. It was an interesting night to say the least. First I learned that the men I play softball with think more highly of me than I thought. Apparently mad softball skills will get you more than an 'atta girl! and the pats on the ass after a good hit serve a double purpose. (I know The Umpire thinks this way, but I can never be certain how much he's joking or not.) I was pretty buzzed by 10. Before 11, I was hit up to be part of a threesome with a wasted couple at the bar. Around midnight, we ran into another softball friend of ours who had just ended a really bad blind date. He joined us and at one point told me I looked "delicious." I don't know what that means. We went to another bar. It was at least 70% men. Excellent news for me, bad news for them. Besides, having two dudes with me was seriously hindering my game, so we went elsewhere until Last Call. At three, we were at a greasy diner with all the other drunkards. At four, we put The Other Guy into a cab (he doesn't live too far away) and stumbled back to my place, where The Umpire crashed on my couch (he lives very far away).

For the second straight Saturday, I woke up with my head spinning and cotton mouth. (And I didn't pay for a single drink! w0000t!) Only this time, no one broke up with me and I didn't have a tequila-drenched apartment to clean. Success!

I've realized something this year. I like being a singleton. I'm happy with my current lifestyle. Sure, having someone to spoon with is nice, and I most definitely need some action every now and then, but it is downright fun to go out and flirt for drinks. I actually don't know if I'm ready to give that up just yet.