eHarmony & Mr. Not Bad

Well, folks, when we last left our hero (that's me!), she was distracting herself with the holidays, entertaining her family and dealing with her disorganized older brother, shopping for gifts for everyone on her list, and whipping up a bowl of champagne punch for her inaugural Christmas party, what she hoped would become a new annual tradition.

She spent New Year's Eve alone with a bottle of wine, enough Italian take-out for 2 people, and an endless queue of NCIS on Netflix. She fell asleep by 10:30 P.M. She made a resolution this year to start treating herself like a lady. To start doing more of the things she loved, like going to the theatre, the museum, to nice restaurants, and to dress herself up to do it. What was the point of having pretty clothes that never got worn?

Mr. Goodman & the Identity Crisis

Ladies & Gentleman, I have returned. So brace yourself for a tall dark glass of whine, and while you're at it may I recommend the Italian sheep's milk cheese to pair with it? Simply delicious.

Yes, I'm back, and no, nothing good can come from it.

"What happened? You stalled for months and then fell off the map altogether!"

Well, dear reader, the answer to your accusing question is multifaceted.

Itemization

A question from a good friend:

What if I don't know what I want in a romantic partner? I've been in a single serious relationship and a few flings, but none of them left me with any real preferences beyond "not an idiot, PLEASE". I mean, I'm a pretty laid back individual, but surely there's some way to figure out what I'm looking for without destroying lives and/or becoming a serial dater (like K, I'm not hugely into the dating game, and going out on multiple dates with different people in a short time period sounds like torture). WHAT DO I WANT? And how do I find it?

Just because I know who posted this comment, I happen to know that this piece of advice will be met with unbridled enthusiasm rather than an eyeroll: Have you considered making a list?

Interview With a Single Woman

I'm delighted to say that I got enough response to my last call for help to allow me to write and schedule my next several posts to be published on Wednesdays at noon for the next couple of weeks. All I can say is to those of you who replied, whether you left an actual question for me or not, thank you. And if you didn't write in with a question yet, please consider leaving one this time!

So, in no particular order, I'll be replying to you all over my next few posts.

OK Rachel, since you asked. What is most important quality in a man you just met: good looks, good paycheck, good sense of humour, secure future, honesty, or other? Be honest!! Will you date someone that was introduced through family of friends? Have you dated co-workers? Will you not date someone you have just met because you can't imagine yourself married to them, or do you let things play out and enjoy the moment? What type of man would you like to date: Businessman, teacher, pro athlete, farmer, military, musician, artist, scientist, doctor, or other? Finally, do you think you are too particular in selecting who you date, and that is why you are not meeting the right guy, or do you think you are not particular enough, and that is why you have had so many bad experiences? 

CD

Dear Men Who Hit on Me on the Plane:

Dear Men Who Hit on Me on the Plane,

You're only interested in me because I represent an unlimited supply of Jack & Cokes.

Sincerely,
Your Flight Attendant


No really, what is it about Jack Daniels that seems to be some sort of flight-crew-specific aphrodisiac? I should conduct a study.

But that's it folks, that's this week (and last week's) post. I'm having what we in the business of dating like to call "a dry spell," and I'm not talking about sexually. I mean my life has been devoid of even the smallest of romantic interactions, welcome or otherwise, unless you include a drunk man in a cowboy hat trying to get my number off of me on a flight to Miami this past weekend. (That's pretty much all there is to the story.)

So, in light of the situation, I have decided to open up a Q&A. To my friends who read this blog every time I post, the ones who e-mail me to tell me how much you've enjoyed it, THIS IS YOUR CHANCE TO HELP ME. Please, ask a question below about ANYTHING. Blogger will allow you to leave a comment anonymously. I would prefer you use this resource, rather than e-mail or messaging me separately, simply so I can keep everything together. However, if you would rather use one of those methods, that's fine.

I will answer anything within reason (i.e. if you ask whether I'm a member of the Mile High Club, I will send a glitter bomb to your house), whether it's about my personal dating history, about my opinion on dating etiquette, or about anyone who's ever been mentioned in the blog. Alternatively, if you want to share a story about your dating experiences, I would love to hear about it and talk about it in a post.

This will only work if I actually get a response, so if you're reading this, I'm talking to YOU.

ETA: It seems I should apologize. Anonymous comments were disabled on the blog without my realizing it. I have adjusted the settings so that you should be able to leave them now. If I am wrong, I apologize. Alternatively, if you prefer to contact me through e-mail or message on facebook/tumblr, you know that I never use real names on this blog and I will not share anyone's identity in a blog post.

Pushing For Positvity

Lately this blog has become a bit of a downer. I guess the collateral of writing a blog about my love life is writing about my love life when it's less successful. So I have to decided to do two things to cheer everyone up. One, I am going to share a bit of dialogue that I had with my father this week when my parents were in town visiting me with their dog Wendy. Two, I am going to write a list of reasons I am happy to be single. The first one is going to be the easy part.

Emotional Roller Coasters & Uber Drivers

I'm an emotional wreck sometimes. Just thought you should all know. Sometimes, literally in the course of 24 hours, with no extenuating circumstances, I can wake up in the morning thinking "I'm so glad I'm single; I hate dating because it's the actual worst," and end the night lying in bed crying (literally crying. I am not exaggerating this to you.) because "I am so lonely. Why won't anyone love me?"

If you think it sounds exhausting, confusing, and difficult to keep up with, imagine living it. It's a mess. And as of this week, I have a new rule:

It Appears I Have a Pattern

It's happening again: My annual "Screw this, I'm single and fabulous," attitude is settling in. Of course, it is inconveniently occurring during dating season, and come next winter I will probably be miserably bemoaning my loneliness once again.

Good job, emotions. Nice timing.

This recurring phenomenon has, as usual, been preceded by about a month or so of sheer desperation and/or carelessness. Now, this year, I wouldn't exactly call myself "desperate," but for the last several weeks I have definitely been using dating apps like it's my job, however fruitlessly. And careless? Well, I would say reaching out to Mr. Charming after his mysterious absence definitely qualifies.

What's great about this time of year for me is that it's kind of like hitting a peak speed in a sprint, followed swiftly by a cool-down period. You gave it a good shot, I tell myself, but men in general kind of suck, so who needs them anyway? Then, apparently, I unintentionally make drastic, life-altering decisions.

This morning, as I sip my coffee, I've been reviewing the last few years, and the odd things that have happened around this time.

An Abundance of Charm

"Lately I've been writing desperate love songs. 

I mostly sing them to the wall." 

All Your Life

The Band Perry 

I spent the last week and a half hidden away in a cabin on a South Carolina lake, with only my parents and their dog for company. It was in many ways a welcome respite from my regular life, although it was not the original plan for my vacation time. Sadly, several things got in the way of my mother's and my intentions to go to Europe, starting first with the continued hassle of renewing my apartment lease and finishing with my mother taking ill. (She's well now, but she was bed-ridden in terrible pain for days.)

Basically what I'm saying is I got an overdose of "me time" and although I'm now sporting a nice summer glow and have finally learned how to dock the pontoon boat on my own, there were days when I thought the isolation would drive me crazy.

What's new? Mostly people's reactions to my last post. It's an interesting thing to have so many people with the same endgame (my happiness) so strongly disagree. After hearing that I had sought out Mr. Charming's company, many friends expressed intrigue or various shows of support. After all, the move was a bit unlike me, but I was telling the story with a grin on my face so there did not appear to be immediate need for worry. Still, at least one person expressed extreme distaste for my behavior. And my mother is always horrified when I text a boy first, no matter the circumstances. So rest assured that whichever place on the spectrum your opinion on my recent decision-making occupies, I've probably gotten an earful of it from one source or another. 

Mr. Charming? Oh he's doing well. Still firing off more mixed signals than a broken traffic light, but yes, very well indeed.

OkCupid, Mr. Alumni, & So Many, Many Regrets

I have no self-control. That's what this boils down to, really. I'm an idiot with no self control.

I was home sick, and bored, and I'd already blogged for a second time that week, and I'm still fighting this bizarre urge to text Mr. Charming. The desire fluctuates between hoping it will somehow magically turn into him begging to see me again (unlikely) and the desire to demand an explanation for why he dropped off the face of the planet (which I doubt he would give me even if he did reply).

So in my desire to avoid getting myself into that horrible situation, I put myself in another horrible situation instead.

I downloaded OkCupid's app.

And I have nothing but regrets.

My Psycho Psyche

I'm updating twice this week, mostly because I just had to call in sick and I'm home in bed with a blocked ear (things you shouldn't fly with: a blocked ear) and nothing better to do.

Also, I'm updating because my subconscious is getting a little out of control.

Look, I realize I'm lonely. That's normal. There are times when being single is a lot of fun, and I am totally comfortable and confident with just being my awesome self, by myself. And then there's other times, times like right now in which I just straight up feel lonely and really miss the companionship of having a boyfriend.

I know, congratulations, Self, on single-handedly undoing the feminist movement. Except that we all know I don't believe that, that I have very firmly stated that there is nothing wrong with the desire to have love in your life.

Have you noticed that this post already sounds like I'm arguing with myself? That's probably a pretty accurate depiction of what's going on with me lately.

Unexpected Struggles

The past week and a half has been a struggle.

Not just in a #thestruggleisreal kind of way. I mean the word in its truest sense: I mean I had to make a forceful and violent effort against obstacles to continue going about my life.

Being a flight attendant is not an easy job. I wouldn't usually call it an intellectual challenge, but it is an emotional one much of the time. Passengers have called me names and yelled at me this week. I have worked with coworkers who saw how young I am and decided they needed to knock me down a peg, and spent days treating me with condescension and disrespect. One passenger mocked me for an entire day because I told her to sit down during takeoff. Another yelled at me for checking to see that her seatbelt was fastened. A woman tried to get in a fight with me because I smiled at her while politely asking her to stow her bag for takeoff. A man intentionally tripped me while I was going down the aisle. Things like this happen all the time, but the past 10 days they all sort of clumped themselves together and happened at once.

Be nice to your flight attendants, guys. We're there for your safety. We're literally just trying to help you. We know that traveling is stressful, and the seats are too small, and delays are miserable, and you have to get to your business meeting/cousin's wedding/grandmother's funeral/Carribbean vacation on time, but there's also only so much we can do. Don't forget that we're human, too.

Because in the midst of all that, I was also squatting down to ask little kids what they'd like to drink at their eye level and making their day. I was rushing against the flow of deplaning to help a young man with a gushing nose bleed. I was letting a little old woman lean on me so she could get to her seat without any trouble. And I was following procedures to make sure that you are 100% safe while you travel today.

But you're not here to read about me complaining about life in a combined customer service and safety professional role. You're here because if my inbox last Sunday is anything to go by, you're dying to know what Mr. Mess had to say.

In Which Both Charming and My Chill Are Absent

The facts were these:

I saw Charming last week, right before leaving town for my cousin's wedding in Atlanta. I was having the great "Are We Exclusive" internal panic you may have heard tell about. But I had calmed down a touch. I was convincing myself to go with the flow and let the conversation come up naturally.

I left town and didn't hear from him the entire weekend. I resisted the urge to send him the requested photo, partly because the only time I apparently warranted a photograph the entire weekend was when I was holding my niece. I had a feeling a photo of me and a baby might send a weird message.

I got back to town and bit the bullet by asking how things at work were (he'd had a spot of trouble about a missed trip and I had been waiting all weekend to hear if it had been cleared up).

Call Me Miss Insecure

I'll be blunt. Dating Mr. Charming has reawakened a part of myself long since forgotten, a part of myself that I absolutely, uninhibitedly do not like: the insecure part.

Before anyone jumps to any unsavory conclusions about the man in question, this is not his fault.

…unless you're blaming him for the fact that I like him, in which case, what a bastard.

But short of that, this is mostly down to me, and perhaps a little bit of the blame also lies on the men who came before. Oh, and absurd gender roles that society has forced on us.

You see, after that oh-so-charming first date with Mr. Charming, I found myself in unfamiliar territory. I was stuck waiting around to see if he would ask me out a second time. This might sound incredibly arrogant, but the truth is I haven't been in this situation very often. Most of the time, as you're well aware, I feel lukewarm at best about a first date. It is a rare occasion that I go beyond a second date with someone. The select instances that I have, I've been sucked headfirst into a hurricane.

For the record, this nearly always turns out to be a mistake. The primary examples are the infamous Misters Manipulation & Mess. Here's an overview: