Rejection Adjectives

I am no longer a cool aloof ice queen. You may remember my discovery that WW is just not that into me. However, was I smart enough to leave it at that? That would be a no.

I blame wine and technology.

I was out with friends on Friday night. After a bottle (or two) of wine we got discussing WW and the men in our lives. My friend decided that I needed closure. I have no idea why I agreed with her. I guess I just had that scene from Friends stuck in my mind where Rachel leaves Ross a voicemail: "and that my friend is what they call closure." I've always kinda wanted to do that.

Now my drunken self should have been prevented from making a fool out of myself because I had smartly deleted his number from my phone. But my drunken self can be quite canny. I remembered that his number was saved in a Facebook email. And this is where technology is evil. Thanks to the progression of cell phones that were once the size of bricks to fancy new cell phones that can access the world wide web with a touch of a few buttons, well, you can figure out the rest.

His phone number once again installed in my phone I proceeded to text him. Even at this stage it could have ended relatively painless as the first couple of texts were innocent and friendly enough. Then I ruined it.

I said something along the lines of: "Just so you know I don't make a habit of kissing my guys friends...I kind of like you...thoughts?" I have deleted the messages so I'm relying on memory here. I'm sure that you've guessed by now that my drunken text didn't work out like Violet's.

Picture the scene. It's 11.30 on a Friday night. I'm in McDonalds because I decided that I really needed a burger. Burger in one hand, phone in the other I read a text message that went something along the lines of:

"Wow, big question! I know we kissed both times we met up...you're nice but...sorry that's just how I feel."

I'm nice?! This is one of the worst rejection adjectives. Ever. If you're going to hear: "You're _____________ (insert adjective) but..." you don't want nice.

Maybe it's just me. After all why should the choice of rejection adjective matter? But I think it does. If I'm going to get rejected at least let me maintain a little bit of my dignity with a decent adjective.

So what do we think are 'good' rejection adjectives?

And once again ladies I urge you to not drink and text or dial. One of these days I will practice what I preach.

Where is the excitement?

This weekend I had two dates with two different guys. With all the online dating that I've done, you would think that this would have happened before now, but actually this was a first. (I live in a small town so, the geographically desirable online dating pool is more of a puddle.)

The first date of the weekend was with Teddy. Teddy and I had been out two other times. Honestly, I don't have anything bad to say about him. He is outdoorsy, educated, well mannered, and sweet. Teddy seems to be an all around nice guy and we have a lot in common. I could go on about his positive qualities, but if I was completely honest with myself then I'd admit that I was just trying to reassure myself that he is a great catch. The thing is that I don't get excited when he calls. When he tries to make plans with me, I sometimes find myself making excuses like I have to study or go to the gym. Even when I'm making the excuses I know that I shouldn't, but I can't seem to stop myself. It shouldn't be this easy to be a cool aloof ice queen, right? On the other hand, I feel like I should give Teddy a chance, because I do have fun with him and it is easy to talk to him. He is the type of guy I would be friends with. How long can I date him before I make a decision?

My second date of the weekend was with Mascot Guy. Mascot Guy had several photos of himself with mascots up on his profile. I had asked him about this, so the first thing that he did on our date was pull out his camera and show me at least 20 other pictures with mascots. And this was only from this past year, he told me he has more! I guess this is kind of a cool hobby, but I have to say, it was a little weird on a first date. I asked him how often he goes to games and I got the impression this isn't just a hobby, it is an obsession. This might not have been as disappointing if I was at all athletic or went to sporting events for the games rather than the experience, friends, and the people watching. Also, I found myself wondering if the mascot thing is the most interesting thing about him. Still the conversation wasn't bad.

After Mascot Guy inhaled his food, he started to get antsy. He went and paid before I was even halfway done. He wanted to know if I wanted to go somewhere else, but he couldn't come up with anything to do. I told him I wouldn't mind staying there a little longer longer. Mascot Guy told me he thought sticking around at the restaurant longer would be weird. This was after maybe 45 minutes. He asked me if I was ready to go before I'd even finished my drink. Seriously, what was the rush? Mascot guy was out the door of the restaurant, while I was still standing at the table zipping up my coat! He waited outside and gave me a hug in the middle of the road telling me that we should do it again. I couldn't help but think this was kind of rude. Within 15 minutes of the date, he had texted me to say he had a great time and can't wait to do it again. How can he be so over eager but in such a rush to end a date at the same time? I'm wondering if maybe Mascot Guy was just really nervous and it would be worth giving him a second chance. What do you think?

I find online dating to be kind of unnatural. You meet a guy and feel like you have to instantly decide if there is chemistry. I had amazing chemistry with MM and even with him there wasn't instant chemistry. We were friends for a while first. Still, I think that I deserve to find someone that I'm excited about. Don't we all deserve to find someone who gives us butterflies in our stomachs? I haven't completely written these guys off yet, but I'm going to continue looking.

Happy 2010!!

I don't normally make resolutions. But there's no harm in trying. So, in 2010:

I will...

- Visit Violet. It's been over a year since we've seen each other, that's a year too many!

- Follow 'The Four Man Plan' (sub resolution- read 'The Four Man Plan'. It's on my nightstand). Here's to finding Mr. Right Now(s)!

- Embark on some form of exercise, form TBC.

- Get up 20 minutes earlier to improve on my current beauty routine of mascara and lipgloss.

- Cook (sub resolution- learn how to).

I will not...

- Read too much into the situation with Welsh Willy (or other). Instead will enjoy fun evenings for what they are, rather than hope something more will come of it.

- Keep telling myself that I'm rubbish at my job and quake inwardly whenever my boss asks me to do something.

- Leave my make-up on when I go to bed as results in IES (icky eye syndrome).

- Eat toast for dinner (more than twice a week).

- Drunk dial or drunk text. Anyone. Drunk dialing/texting reeks of desperation. Will be cool aloof ice queen instead.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Oops...I'm doing it again!

I'm screwed.

Since my random yet highly enjoyable night out with WW last Thursday I've been thinking a lot about him. In fact I haven't thought about much else. Herein lies my problem...

I do this every time. Every time I meet a guy I obsess about what happened and more worryingly, what may happen. NB: I don't do this with random guys I meet in pubs, it's with guys I actually know and there haven't been that many! But it invariably leads to disappointment, embarrassment and with a little bit of regret thrown in for good measure. So after I broke up with Fergus I made a mid-year resolution- no longer was I going to do any chasing, I was going to be a cool, aloof ice queen- they could chase me. No more drunken texts = no more embarrassment. And so far I've been pretty good on this score with WW. I've only text him once asking him to bring me back a snowglobe from Australia (you don't ask, you don't get.) So now it's just the disappointment factor to contend with and I can feel it fast approaching because I'm getting the sneaking suspicion that I might like him, like really like him.

I totally did not see this coming. At all. I was expecting the evening to be a one drink, possibly awkward, affair. Nothing more. When I was skyping with Vi the night before I was due to meet him, I responded with an incredulous 'is he?' when Vi said she thought he was cute.

And then I met him at the station. The first thing I thought when I saw him was 'damn he's cute.' And it went downhill from there. Below is a list of why WW is the nicest guy I've met in a really, really long time.

* He paid for everything, even though I offered. Now I'm all for paying my way but no guy has ever payed for everything the first time we've met up. In fact, I have a cringe worthy recollection of having lunch with Fergus the first time. The lunch cost S/.8 each, that's roughly £2.30, which is roughly $3. He paid his half and then pushed the bill towards me. $3!! Why I didn't see the warning signs then I'll never know.
* He didn't laugh like most guys do when I said that I played soccer when I was a kid and that I wasn't bad at it. He also didn't laugh when I said I've been thinking of taking it up again. In fact, he encouraged me. So much so that he said he was going to call a couple of his friends who run ladies soccer clubs.
*He didn't laugh or mock when I talked about my job. He listened. I work for the UK's largest charity which works towards combating isolation and neglect against older people. Most people don't understand why I work for a charity. They find it even stranger when I get a bit passionate and start quoting statistics at them. He didn't.
* When we were ordering dinner (that he paid for) he ordered pheasant. I said that I had never eaten pheasant. He said that I could try some of his. When the dinner arrived he cut a decent chunk of it and put it on my plate. How many guys share their food?!
* He opened doors for me. I like guys that do that.
* The weather was really bad that night. He switched places with me so that he was watching close to the kerb- thus meaning he was way more likely than me to get splashed with slush and gunk. Then when the wind was getting really bad he insisted I walk behind him so as to protect me from the wind.
*He's a great kisser.

Now maybe these seem like trivial things. Maybe I'm just not used to guys being nice to me. Maybe I'm making mountains out of molehills. But I'm still pretty sure that I like him.

But as I stated before, I think this is all going to end in disappointment. Reasons being:

*He's older than me. 8 years older. This doesn't bother me, I like older men and for all I know it might not bother him. But I'm 23 and he's 31, he might have an issue with it.
* I've no idea of his current 'love life status'. Has he just got out of a serious relationship? Is he casually seeing anyone? Without this information it makes the situation even harder to judge.
* I saw him last week. And he's away for 2 1/2 weeks over New Years. That's along time until the possibility of seeing him again, which means it's a long time for him to forget about me.
*I haven't heard from him since I text him asking him to get me a snowglobe. No contact from a guy who you kissed is never a good sign!

So I'm not feeling too confident, and a big helping of disappointment is not what you want for Christmas!

However, I'm trying to look on the positive side of things. At least I finally have a guy to blog about who isn't my ex. And I may get a snowglobe out of all of this (that sounds a bit dodgy, it's not.) Happy Holidays!

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.

From the list of Things You Never Thought You'd Hear a Man Say...

I've been seeing The Highlander now for nearly 3 months, so of course I know to expect (but am not looking forward to) The Conversation, wherein we decide if we're going to be exclusive or not. Which translates to be exclusive or break-up. I don't like these conversations, which is probably why I've only had imaginary boyfriends and not a real-life boyfriend in a few years. But I know it can't be avoided this time, especially because we've been having regular sleepovers and trying to socialize our cats.

The Conversation didn't happen on Saturday, but we got a bit of a precursor to it. I certainly don't want to rehash the whole convo, but will instead skip directly to the highlight. At one point, The Highlander said to me, "I think you may have a problem with emotional intimacy." I'll get to what I think of my ability to be emotionally intimate in a moment, but first...seriously? I know he continued to talk and was saying something about how maybe I've been hurt before, but all I could do was concentrate on not smiling. This was a serious topic he was broaching, but all I could think of was the unlikelihood of having a man, who is a potential mate, sitting in front of me, wanting to talk about my issues with emotional intimacy. Has any woman ever had a man accuse them of not being emotionally intimate? Because I think I may be the first one.

I know you're probably thinking that I've taken the whole Ice Queen routine a bit far, but from what he said, this actually has nothing to do with my busy schedule, but instead by my squirminess in moments like these, my unwillingness to discuss my romantic past (and especially his), and my lack of verbalizing my feelings, so to speak. I don't actually come out and say, "Hey, I really like you." Sadly, I had to do that with McNerdy once upon a time (because he refused to talk about any of these things either, most likely the reason we were such a disaster) and my entire face twitched the whole time. I know that I am capable of emotional intimacy because I've been there before. I do, however, believe it takes me a bit longer than the average person to get there. It's just how I'm wired. I'm skeptical.

Letting Yourself be Chased

The following comes to us from guest blogger Fenella. Please excuse her British spellings ;)

After analysing my recent break-up from every single angle possible and then every past relationship/potential relationship/I really wish he'd have noticed me non-existent relationship I came to the conclusion that with all the aforementioned I have been the chaser and not the chasee. My chasing hasn't been desperate, pathetic or cringey but I have been the one to make the first move or send the first text. And it's fair to say that method hasn't really worked out for me. So I came to the conclusion that I would no longer do the chasing. From now on I'm going to sit back, relax, be nonchalant and let the guys chase me. However, guys being guys you have to give them something to work with, so obviously I would still have to register my interest with them (hair flicking, meaningful glances, etc.) and give them my number if they ask for it, that sort of thing. But after that, my work would be finished. Then it's up to them to make the first move, send the first text, or buy the first drink...
I put my steely new resolution to the test the other night. My friend and I were out to dinner and I was pleasantly surprised to see a very attractive (Spanish) waiter serving tables near us. Luckily my friend's boyfriend is the manager so my friend knew all the waiting staff including said cute waiter. I thought this would work in my favour, and it did. He came over quite frequently, laughed and joked (flicked my hair) and I even managed to slip into the conversation that I speak a smattering of Spanish. Surely, I thought, I've got him hooked. And when I came back to the bathroom to discover that he'd asked my friend if I was single I was waiting for him to ask for my number. But he didn't. Instead, I was left wondering why he didn't and what had I done wrong and generally feeling pretty despondent and low in the self-esteem department. Which was exactly how I felt when I was the chaser. Which leads me to the conclusion that the only benefit of being the chasee is that you don't embarrass yourself with drunken texts. So now, instead of thinking my new resolution is going to lead me to become a steely ice-queen with the attitude of 'if a guy really wants to call you, he'll call you' I've ended up obsessing why a guy who I thought was clearly interested didn't even ask for my number. You just never can win.
But I'm over the Spanish waiter, he was too short for me anyway.

Long Live the Queen!

I've done it. After years of repeating the mantra and failing miserably, I have finally done it. I've achieved the perfect aloof, cool, ice queen status. I don't mean to brag, but this is quite an accomplishment. This is a goal I've been working toward for a long time. All those times I called Scarlet in order to avoid calling The Man of the Moment have really paid off. I. am. an. ice. queen.

With The Highlander, I've kept up a pretty good facade of iciness, giving him just enough warmth to keep coming back for more. (You don't want to overdo it, you know, that will backfire.) I've kept busy with other things, I've ended dates before he was ready, and I've done a good job of calling sparingly (mostly only to return one of his calls, with a few unprovoked calls here and there for good measure).

Last night, my reign as ice queen peaked. After stumbling home in the wee hours of the morning Sunday night (er, Monday morning) from The Highlander's apartment, I was unexcusably groggy the following morning at work. In order to prevent this from happening again, I actually set an alarm on my watch to go off at 11pm. When the alarm went off, I would go home, solidifying my status as an aloof ice queen and ensuring I wouldn't fall asleep in class the next day. It worked like a charm. The alarm went off (I had already warned The Highlander that he was on the clock, so it wasn't much of a shock), and even though I really, really didn't want to (he had gotten out his guitar again) I got up and went home. But, like I said, you have to give him a little something, so I told him that since I was calling it a night early last night, that on Saturday I wouldn't have a curfew. He was in full support of that.

Not to toot my own horn, but I fully expect to be contacted shortly to write a book called "How to be an Ice Queen" or "The Idiot's Guide to Being an Ice Queen," or even "Ice Queens for Dummies."