The Inquisition

The Comedian and I went on another one of his secretive mystery dates. My only clue this time was that there would be lasers. I made sure he would mind me calling them “frickin’ lasers” in a terrible Dr. Evil voice before I agreed. It turned out to be a little trip to our local laser maze. We each got to pretend we were on a top secret mission to break into a bank or something. I won’t lie-- it was a little scary. You go into a dark room by yourself, then all these laser beams come on and you have to do some serious kung-fu yoga moves to get through them. I think the Comedian may have been a little nervous too-- he gets bonus points for being adventurous and outgoing. Those are necessary traits for someone to be with me. Even more necessary than well rolled button-up shirt sleeves.

After our “frickin’ laser” adventure, we went to dinner and then on a walk. I dug a little deep with the conversation. That’s a strange thing about internet dating: you’re both paying as much for your dating membership as you are for your water bill, so there’s no messin’ around. You don’t wonder if they’re looking for a relationship. If you go on more than one date, you don’t wonder if they’re interested in you. You don’t have to dance or shuffle around what you really want to ask them-- you just ask. When I realized I was actually re-considering my original declaration to not date him, I just let it fly:

“Do you ever want to get married again?”

“Would you have more children? Would you want to?”

“What are your thoughts on changing jobs to live closer?” 

"Do you want to travel?"

"I have two uvulas-- does that bother you?" (Yep-- you should Google that one, readers)

The Spanish Inquisition had nothing on me that night. And this all should have scared him away, but it didn’t. He just held my hand and thought about each section of the interrogation and seemed to have all the answers I was looking for (one more time, yes, with the right person, yes, yes, and "no---wait what is that?"). 

We spent the whole night talking. A little rain storm moved over us and we kissed in the rain, we watched mice run into the trash cans near where we were sitting (which amused us both), we talked about racing our Hoverounds some more, and he pointed out his own use of alliteration. I finally looked at the clock and was stunned to see it was 5:30 in the morning. 

I’m going to spare you all the mushy details and just say that I realized when I looked at the clock that there was no one else I would ever want to spend an entire night talking with. I’ve only met 14 guys. I can’t very well change my blog/challenge to “try fourteen.” Who in the hell would read that? What’s even worse is that I’m supposed to go out of town with The Hunter in a couple weeks. I know The Comedian is a much better match for me already. I’m pretty smitten. But reservations have been made and The Hunter and I are officially going. That won’t be awkward at all.   

Legend

It’s been awhile since I’ve blogged-- epic blogger fail, I know. There are a couple reasons for my lack of posting. The first is that nothing really fantastic or horrific has happened in my recent dating adventures. The plot line has been much more like Bob Ross than Days of Our Lives (obviously I’ve been watching too much non-cable daytime television). The second reason I haven’t written is that I’ve been caving a little to my previous monogamous habits, and I’ve not been looking forward to fessing up. 

You haven’t missed much. I’ve been on a couple of dates: one with The Policeman and one with the other Algal Ecology Guy. The Policeman was friendly-- jovial, even, I would say. We talked about our jobs, and places we’d like to travel, and our life goals. He wants to have horses some day and he drives a Dodge Ram 1500 quad cab. Yep-- he could definitely fit in my vision of happiness. He’s texted me a couple of times since our date, but I’ve run out of motivation to respond. It’s not that I don’t want a second date it’s just that I’m getting kind of...tired. This mission is a marathon, not a sprint, and I’m starting to feel the fatigue. 

The other date with Algal Ecology Guy was fascinating. He’s been to Antarctica. Who does that? He used to be Mormon, but don’t worry-- I watched him drink a beer. He does, in fact, know Chaco. Damn. We were trading our internet stories and Algal Ecology Guy says, "yeah, I think I heard of some girl trying to date 25 guys." Awesome. I'm a legend.

Algal Ecology Guy is really, highly... extremely... interested in plants. Primarily orchids, it seemed. I got a detailed explanation, complete with hand gestures, about the life cycle of an orchid. There were pods and pollens, “stamens” and “germinations”, “reproductions” and “maturations”. Never has such a sexual-sounding conversation been so not sexual. Algal Ecology Guy wasn’t a total weirdo, though. He laughed at his unusual orchid interest and called his long explanation “nerdjacking.” Here’s the definition of nerdjacking from urbandictionary.com:

1.	nerdjacking
	June 17, 2011 Urban Word of the Day In conversation, digressing into extreme and/or unnecessary detail about one’s passion (music, coding, gaming) to an otherwise uninitiated layperson, without awareness or acknowledgement of the listener’s rapidly waning interest or lack of understanding of the subject at hand. Clyde held Stella’s attention briefly, until he began nerdjacking the conversation by talking about World of Warcraft for 4 uncomfortable minutes.

This definitely showed off his sense of humor. Algal Ecology Guy was also really good looking. He was good looking like the kind of person whose picture is in a frame when you buy it at the store: great teeth, flashy smile, just the right amount of semi-rugged stubble. I think I was a little too much for Algal Ecology Guy, though. He hasn’t called or texted and it’s been over a week. I should probably stay away from Mormons, former Mormons, and anyone I feel like I’m corrupting if they drink a beer with me. Algal Ecology Guy is wise to stick with his stamens.

Okay, it’s time for the confession portion of my blog. I’m going to do this quick, like ripping off a band-aid:

The Hunter and I talk, text, or see each other at least three or four times a week. He’s hung out with my friends (who approve of him but disapprove of my caving to previous habits). He sends me random good morning and good night texts... and I like them. We’ve talked about taking a cruise to Mexico. He’s making me dinner tonight.

There. I did it. Now you know.

I had a friend point out today that it would be okay if I found somebody and wanted to date them; after all, isn’t that the whole point of joining match.com? I guess it is. But I’m pretty determined to make it to my 25. I’m not a quitter. And, at the very least, sticking to the mission will make me stave off a relationship for as long as possible. My new challenge is trying to date the guys I like without actually dating them. Maybe I should just get an orchid instead. Then I could nerdjack people with my stamens. 

Burn Baby Burn!

Went on two dates again today. I find it’s the most efficient use of my time to do my hair and make-up once and go on two dates. It’s genius, really. The first date was with the tech-company co-owner. He makes iPhone apps and is a graphic artist, so I’ll call him App Man. In the pictures on his profile he is not particularly cute...no, I definitely wouldn’t describe him as cute. He’s a little...different looking. Maybe it’s because he’s 6’7’’ tall or because he’s part African American, but looks totally white. I figured it was worth the gamble. And the gamble paid off. This guy is sexy in a magnetically exotic way. As my good friend would say, he’s the kind of guy that makes you think “just one night...”

And that’s exactly what I was thinking while we ate our Vietnamese lunch together. Everything was fine. We were going through the normal internet date discussion/interview process ( how many siblings do you have? Where are you from? Tell me about your career ) when, all of the sudden, his phone lights up and a picture of a very attractive young girl’s face fills the screen. It was most definitely not his mother. What does App Man do? He says, “Sorry, I have to get this” then picks it up and goes outside... OUTSIDE!!! He proceeds to have what seems to be a robust conversation. He even stands behind a small tree so that I can’t see him; except that I can see him because it is not possible for a 6’7” human being to hide behind a decorative shrubbery. Then he comes back in, sits down, apologizes again, and continues eating. 

We went mini-golfing after our lunch and it was fun...but not nearly as fun as it was with The Comedian. App Man was a little flirtatious, which I liked, but I don’t think I can ever forgive him for the phone call-behind-the-shrubbery-in-the-middle-of-our-first-date incident.     

I was glad to head off to meet The Comedian to see a baseball game. He made friends with the random kid sitting next to him, and we made subtle and off-color jokes that kept us laughing for nine innings. My favorite was when two scantily clad preteens walked by with their mother, who was just as underdressed. The Comedian goes, “Wow, it’s a hoodrat, hoodrat, and a hootchy mama.” I earned more imaginary relationship points for singing during the 7^th inning stretch. We went out to eat after the game at a cheesy casino restaurant (yes, for those of you that are tallying the free meals, I’ve had at least a billion. And yes, I am getting fatter on every date). And then... in the middle of our meal.. he pulls out his phone and says “I don’t mean to be rude...but I am being rude... I’ll be right back. Don’t leave.”

I thought I was going to rip my hair out. What the hell? Is it national no-manners-on-a-date day? Clearly I missed the memo. 

The Comedian comes back to the table, sits down and says, “See? It’s perfect for this moment.” He props his phone up in the middle of the table and proudly shows me the digital fireplace that is flickering with little digital flames. He wasn’t being rude-- he was finding a spot where he could get internet so that he could bring me a fireplace. I couldn’t eat for a few minutes because I was too busy laughing. The two of us ate the rest of our food in the flickering faux firelight. He turned the volume up to get extra crackling effect. Our waitress had a good laugh, too, and said she was going to be telling people about that all night. If you would like this ambient fireplace app, you can find it at http://itunes.apple.com/us/app/fireplace-app/id409930131?mt=12. 

The Comedian is not what I’m looking for. He has kids, doesn’t drink, and didn’t graduate from college (he said that on day four they asked him to make an art project about his name with construction paper and glue sticks, so he just left). He’s not competitive or physically impressive. He wears glasses and drives a car with a maroon velvet interior. But he seems like the unexpected protagonist in a romantic comedy. I totally want him to get the girl... but I’m not so sure I want that girl to be me.

Sweet Tooth

I have seen a lot of The Hunter in the past couple days. We roasted marshmallows at his house...in his fire pit... that he built himself. I also noticed he had built a big permanent bar in his backyard. It’s like the man has already built my personal Utopia for me. We were joined by his roommate and his roommate’s girlfriend. The Hunter and I haven’t really spent time around other people. We have been by our romantic selves for most of the time we’ve spent together. Despite the presence of other people, The Hunter continued to be his normal sweet self. He put a hand on mine, then a hand on my back, then a hand on my leg (at this point I try to scootch away a little). Then he tried to kiss me-- multiple times-- in front of people. I did the bob-and-weave I learned from my aerobic kickboxing class to avoid them.

Maybe he read this article from www.askmen.com that said:

“The majority of women aren't going to demand a full-on make-out session on the street, but most will want at least the three pillars of public displays of affection: 1) hand-holding, 2) a kiss goodbye and 3) affectionate invasions of space.”

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not opposed to the occasional public cuteness, but I guess I’m in the minority of women here. I’m okay without the “pillars”. The Hunter crossed the line into the territory of smothering and bothersome PDA. After about an hour of this I was overloaded with sweetness: 4 marshmallows, a few squares of Hershey’s chocolate, and some constant affection did not leave me wanting s’more. So I tried out the blunt honesty I’ve been practicing over the course of my Mission and just told him it was “too much.” He backed off and was better for the rest of the evening. Phew. I was about to get a cavity.

We hung out the next day. I enjoyed my laid back time alone with him. He came to see my horse with me and we went out to eat. I performed in a Burlesque Show last night, and The Hunter came to watch. He brought flowers for me... I joked that it was a “rainforest” of flowers, but it was really very thoughtful of him. We went out to eat afterwards and he spent the night at my house (nope-- no nooky-- I can’t get over the over-sweetness). He left this morning with an agreement not to go on another date until I only have ten guys left (that’s after six more, for those of you who are counting). It was his idea to back off a little and it was a good move. He said he wanted to wait and take me on some “real” dates, like wine-tasting in Napa. I’m certainly not opposed to that. I’ll stick with the dry wines, though. Nothing too sweet, thank you.