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?

Fun Dates are Fun Because They're Fun

Back again with another question this week, from one of you. If you haven't asked something but have a question burning on your mind, please take advantage of the anonymous comment option below and leave it for me! I'm really enjoying hearing what's on everyone's mind.

Today's question comes from K:

Rachel, how do I make dating fun? Do I Clockwork Orange myself with romcoms until I am convinced something like that can happen to me? Or more specifically, how can dating be more attractive to someone who is not socially inclined other than "if you don't do it, you'll be alone forever"? 

Also, how to politely tell my parents that I do not need them setting me up with their friends' children?? Last time I checked arson was a felony??
K

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.

Feeling Reckless & Loving It

You're not going to approve. I'm just telling you right now. You're going to bury your face in your hands and sigh, deep from within your soul, at how disappointed you are in me.

I don't care.

Shortly after my stint on OkCupid, which was, again, full of nothing but regrets, Mr. Alumni asked me out for drinks. I put him off, claiming business and trying to make up my mind if I should ignore my gut instinct and give him a chance anyway. And then he asked me out a second and third time and as much as I admire persistence, I finally turned him away.

And then I re-downloaded Tinder. Which convinced me that I am slowly becoming asexual because I was not attracted to ANYONE in that bottomless pit of men.

So then I downloaded Bumble and was reassured that I am, in fact, a sexual being because there were lots of men on there whom I found attractive. Thank God.

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.

Exclusion Anxiety with Mr. Charming

Remember last week? When I was working on finding my cool again and not being insecure about my dating life and whether or not a guy likes me? Well, all of that was going quite well, until I went to my friend Lana's for dinner last Monday night.

With Lana's husband Mark out of town for a few days, and Mags' boyfriend Gordon working late, the three of us were having a girls' night in to gossip freely. In between breaks to check on Lana's baby, who is going through a "I cry if anyone but Mom holds me" phase, Mags was discussing the new apartment she and Gordon are moving into in a few weeks, and Lana was explaining Mark's disappointment that his job keeps sending him on business trips when he wants to be home with her and their son.

And then the subject turned to me and my doings. I filled them in on all my work aspirations and how the job has been going, but what they really wanted to know about was Mr. Charming.

"Doors Closing"

So there I was, just a couple of weeks ago, having one of those one-in-a-million days of absolute fabulousness. By all counts, I was on my A-game. I was coming home from a work function and a day of general bad-assery, and I looked hot. Have you had that kind of day? When everything feels like it's falling perfectly into place for your benefit? And your outfit is perfect, which racks up your confidence points like no one's business? I had on my favorite black pencil skirt with a super chic fuchsia blouse and those shoes. You know the ones. Not to mention my hair was completely on point. I felt great, and everything I'd set out to do that day, I had knocked out of the park. The Force was strong with me.

And there's nothing like that feeling of self-assuredness to really make you feel like you could have a man eating out of the palm of your hand if you wanted to. The even better part, though? I didn't care. I could make a guy putty for me, but I was too busy being fabulous to worry about men that day.

Me and my shoes have a world to conquer. Step aside.

Social Media & Why No One Is Going to Read This

This is not the post that was supposed to go up this week. I had written something entirely different, scheduled to go up on Tuesday but then delayed it because a story I thought was over suddenly picked up again. I knew the first blog would have to be edited to allow for continuation later.

In summary: I met someone. We found each other on social media (through a slightly embarrassing plot twist) and he asked me out for drinks. But then I got the brush off.

Bummer. Disappointment abounds. Etc. Etc. I already made plans to meet a girlfriend for drinks instead. Life goes on.

But not for my mother.

Keep Looking for It

"I'm sure you hear this all the time, but it will happen when you're not looking for it."

Next person to say this to me gets spit in their eye.

The well-intended person, of course, means to be encouraging. Comforting, even. Failed relationships? Feeling lonely? Just got off a disappointing date? Once thought you'd be engaged by this age? All of these remarks lately, whether made humorously or not, have been met with the same pithy aphorism:

"Quit worrying about it and it will happen."

Yes, dear friend [or perfect stranger, as the case may be], how stupid of me to desire companionship. You're completely right. I should definitely flip the on/off switch for that.

…oh wait.