Tying the Knot

Hello dear readers!  I know that after making a brief comeback, I have been radio silent again for a few months.  I was second chairing a jury trial which even though we lost (boooo!) was a great experience career wise, but was also a total killer for my social life.  But now it is done (pending maybe an appeal) and I can focus on other things like…drumroll please…my upcoming wedding!

In just 24 days (so says theknot.com), Mr. Law and I will be tying the knot!  (Does this mean that I need to change the title of this blog to Mrs. Law?  Hmmm…)  I have officially now fallen down the wedding planning rabbit hole and am spending countless hours on tasks such as writing my vows (still a work in progress, suggestions from vow-writing veterans welcomed!),  purchasing cute wedding-related things on Etsy (LOVE that site), shopping for a rehearsal dinner dress, tallying RSVPs, meeting with our vendors, etc.  I did have a brief moment in the last week of trial where I cursed myself for not having hired a wedding planner, but now we are back in good shape and I’m actually having a lot of fun with things. Weddings are such happy events — I have loved attending / being in my friends’ weddings and I can’t wait to be in my own.  🙂

Still, the most common question people have been asking me is “are you nervous?”  I think it’s sort of a funny question, and I can never tell whether they’re asking if I’m worried about getting married, or if I’m anxious about putting together a party for 140+  guests.   In any event, the answer is that I’m not at all nervous about getting married, and that the details of the event can be slightly overwhelming at times, but that I know it’ll all work out.  My goal in this process has been to be the anti-Bridezilla, and so my take is that I only have two goals: 1) to marry Mr. Law and 2) to have a great time with our nearest and dearest.  If we accomplish that it is a success!

To that end, even though in the final weeks it is tempting to start splurging and adding on all sorts of extras, Mr. Law and I decided early on that the only things our guests would really need are a nice meal, open bar, and good music.  Then we also wanted nice flowers and a great photographer.  We’ve got all that covered.  And most importantly of all I am marrying the love of my life and I CAN’T WAIT.

The Eleventh Wheel

Another weekend is coming to an end, dear readers, and I thought I’d wrap it all up with a blog. Overall it was a pretty mellow weekend. I had to work part of the day yesterday and for a couple of hours today, but other than that I enjoyed the 4th annual cookie party with my former roommates, catching up on Netflix (Waitress and Superbad), reading (I am halfway through Saving Fish from Drowning) and, of course, my firm’s holiday party.

The holiday party was very nice–beautiful location, nice cocktail hour and appetizers, a meal, dancing. I love my co-workers, and the speeches were good (in particular one partner who had the crowd roaring with laughter – I literally had tears streaming down my face, I was laughing so hard). But still, I admit I didn’t exactly have fun. And I hate to say this, because I don’t want to be “that” whiny single person, but, well…frankly, it sort of sucks being a single in a sea of couples. For part of the night I was able to ignore the fact and even enjoy being a solo agent. During cocktail hour I wandered around and chatted with people, and felt sort of relieved to just be able to do my own thing. One funny thing about the night was that I was driving, so I only had 1/2 a glass of wine over the course of the whole night. My co-workers, on the other hand…not so much. Even my boss, when I was chatting with him toward the end of the night, was noticeably slurring his speech. People were getting very confessional with me, and I was just sort of nodding and humoring them.

Anyway, when my singleness became really noticeable was when we moved into the ballroom for the sit-down portion of the evening. There was no assigned seating, so people started grabbing up spots. Each table had 10 seats at it. Some of the girls I really like in my department encouraged me to come sit with them…but there were 10 seats, 5 couples already sitting there. One of my co-workers’ boyfriends went and stole a chair from another table so I could join them. This, of course, meant that I ended up stealing someone else’s napkin and fork, too. And at one point as I was eating my bloody prime rib and I looked around at everyone whispering conversation with ther spouse or boyfriend, I thought, Dear God, I’m the ELEVENTH WHEEL! (Actually, in the party as a whole I was probably the hundred-and-eleventh wheel, but who’s counting?)

After dinner I was literally dragged up on the dance floor by the arm, by my friend’s fiance. I danced while it was a group, but after a while, nobody was dancing in groups, just in couples, and I found myself weaving around on the dance floor among all the oblivious couples. If it had been a movie, everything would have been slow motion and there certainly would have been some sad song playing in the background. Soon afterward, I decided to leave, over the protests of my (tipsy) co-workers. One of my friends actually came running after me and was like, “Stay! You can drink, we can take a cab back later!” I begged off — it was sweet of her, but I was tired and done with the evening. I think maybe she was worried about me, and it would have taken too much effort to explain, “This isn’t fun, but it’s not the end of the world — I’d just rather be home in my PJs right now.”

I was talking to my college friend K. on the phone today — she is recently single after a long time on-again-off-again relationship with a guy who, in my opinion, sounded like no good. K. is one of the most spirited and outgoing, fun-loving people I know, so I think she’s a good single role model. I was talking to her about the fact that I love my girlfriends, but that most of them are married or pseudo-married and therefore not often available for or interested in girls’ nights or girls’ vacations. On Saturday night, after working a good chunk of the day, I felt like I wanted to go out. But I knew that my friends would be otherwise occupied with their men, so I opted for Netflix. To give a larger-scale example, I love to travel and would love to plan some little trips out of town, or bigger trips. But I can’t get anyone to go with me, either because they are saving time/money to travel with their BFs/spouses, or are saving money in general. Sometimes I feel like, what’s the use in working hard and making money if I don’t get to do the things I want to do? I was thinking about just saying screw it and taking a solo weekend trip in January, but I know myself and I’d probably just end up feeling sad and annoyed that I spent money to be in a different city alone – I can do that here!

Anyway, K. told me that when she was single a while ago, she started affirmatively trying to meet other single girls when she went out. I think maybe cultivating some new friendships would be a good thing for me…but then again, if I’m too busy at work to go out and meet new men, how am I going to meet new women? I guess it would be an interesting experiment to see which would be easier – finding a new guy, or finding a new girlfriend? Hmmm.

K. also told me something last time we talked that I really identify with. She said that she would be more fine with being single if she knew that she would eventually meet the right person. She wouldn’t need to know how or when – but just that she would meet him at some point. That’s sort of how I feel now. It’s not that being on my own is that bad day to day. But what bothers me is thinking that this could be how it is…indefinitely. I can bear being a little lonely now. I don’t know if I can bear this being the norm. I guess it’s all about attitude. Maybe I just need to buck up.

At any rate, dear readers, I hadn’t intended to write such a whiny post tonight! More sunny things next time, I swear…

We have changed but we’re still the same

Today, dear readers, I got an email from my ex-fiance for the first time in about 6 months. Last time we emailed it was because I was thinking about getting rid of Noodles after his vicious attacks. (Now, as Noodles sits on the couch next to me, purring sweetly, I think how sad it’d be if I had given up on him!) Anyway, since it had been so long without communication, the email came as a surprise.

It was a very sweet email…basically saying “Happy Holidays” and asking how things have been. At the end he wrote, “i know i have been a little distant and that is totally my fault, sorry. i just need some time to clear the head, and get my life in order.” I totally understand that sentiment, and it’s precisely why I was letting things breathe and not reaching out to him via email anymore. After I suggested that we meet for coffee and he said it was too soon, I realized – duh! – that it really was too soon. Then when the last guy I dated broke up with me, and I had such a hard time when he would email me because I would have false hope, I realized that I wasn’t doing my ex any favors by emailing him. If anything, I was probably just making it worse. I decided that I would just stop, and that when he felt ready he could contact me again.

And now he has. It’s strange because on the one hand I thought of a million things I could tell him. We dated for 3 years, so he knows all my friends and family, and so I have over a year’s worth of stories and engagements and gossip that I could share with him. But I know that sharing all those things with him, when he’s not really part of my world or my circle anymore (aside from a couple of my friends he has stayed friends with) would also be bittersweet. I certainly feel that way sometimes…our mutual friend let it slip a few weeks ago that my ex’s younger brother got engaged, and my stomach sank; partly because I loved his family and sometimes I miss being part of that, and partly because I can just imagine how it feels for my ex to be watching his brother on the verge of getting married.

So on the one hand, I really like that we’re back in contact. On the other hand, I don’t know if we’ll ever get past this superficial chit-chat and really be friends. I suppose only time will tell. As I was writing my reply email to him, the song “Cool” by Gwen Stefani came on. “And it’s such a miracle that you and me are still good friends/ After all that we’ve been through/ I know we’re cool…”

I love that song because it’s so full of hope and possibility: you can think that you’ll never get over someone, but eventually you’ll both meet someone new, and it’ll all be “cool”. (I also love the video.)

I do believe that people can be friends with their exes, in some instances. But with a broken engagement, it seems impossible. We went from having decided to spend the rest of our lives together, to not even being in each others’ lives. Can there be a happy medium? How could we ever look at each others’ significant other and not think, “That should have been me?”

**************************
Gwen Stefani – “Cool”

It’s hard to remember how it felt before
Now I found the love of my life
Passes things, get more comfortable
Everything is going right

And after all the obstacles
It’s good to see you now with someone else
And it’s such a miracle that you and me are still good friends
After all that we’ve been through
I know we’re cool
I know we’re cool

We used to think it was impossible
Now you call me by my new last name
Memories seem like so long ago
Time always kills the pain

Remember Harbor Boulevard
The dreaming days where the mess was made
Look how all the kids have grown, oh
We have changed but we’re still the same
After all that we’ve been through
I know we’re cool
I know we’re cool

Yeah, I know we’re cool

And I’ll be happy for you
If you can be happy for me
Circles and triangles
And now we’re hanging out with your new girlfriend
So far from where we’ve been
I know we’re cool
I know we’re cool

C-cool, I know we’re cool
I know we’re cool

Dealbreakers

So I have been writing a lot about my dating life lately…such as it is. I’ve been pondering recently what things are reasonable criteria by which to eliminate potential suitors, and which are things that I could afford to relax about. So far these are the “dealbreakers” I look for when reviewing an online profile (in no particular order):

1. Bad grammar (the worst is mixing up your and you’re — the hairs on the back of my neck are standing up just thinking of it!)
2. Shorter than my height (5’9″) — hey, I like to wear heels

*** Note: In another post I commented that “most people I weed out without any response because something about their profile doesn’t quite fit me: they are uber-religious, they have bad grammar, they are shorter than me, their favorite thing to do on a weekend is skydiving, etc.” One of my loyal readers sent me this email: “you mean, they are shorter than I. I would have let it pass, but it came right after you said that men with bad grammar suck.” Perhaps I should get off my grammar high horse then! Anyway…

3. Politically conservative and/or very religious (since I am pretty much a bleeding heart liberal agnostic).
4. Allergic to cats – Noodles has been loyal to me for 2 years, which is more than I can say for any guy I’ve dated except my ex-fiance
5. Overuse of “lol”. This just seems so unnecessary out of the online-chat context, esp. in a dating profile (e.g. “I’m looking for a tall supermodel lol”). Wtf?
6. Hobbies are all things like skydiving. mountain biking etc. Nothing wrong with those things, but I’m way too weak sauce.
7. Emphasizes in the profile how into “fitness” he is. Again, that is a fabulous thing to be into, and more power to you. But I love to eat and I hate to work out. I don’t want someone to judge me for it!
8. Is unattractive. Are looks everything? Of course not. But if I’m surfing through pictures, I don’t care how fantastic your personality is, I won’t be excited to meet you unless you’re cute.

And the list goes on. So I can see how someone might read that and say I am too picky. My mom sent me an email last week about a blog she reads called Charming but Single. Charming had written a tongue-in-cheek post about how she wanted her next BF to have season football tickets. To that, she got the following response:

“I think your applicant pool is a lot of the problem here. The guys you meet seem to get what they want and move on. Then they like to drop back in on you (and you let them) and give you a complex thinking it was all just some misunderstanding because you didn’t show them you wanted a relationship. I’m not sure if they’re feeding you a line or if they assumed you were still in the fun stage because you met them in a bar. That’s not judgement it just seems men don’t think women they meet in bars are there to find a husband especially in our neck of the woods. I also think you might need to stop putting so much emphasis on appearances. It would never occur to me ever to list specific physical characteristics in my criteria for finding a life partner. When I was ready to settle down the biggest criteria for me was that he was at that stage as well and that he was smart. So with that in mind it might be time to start considering some of those cousins of your friends who have “great personalities.” They might not be Adonis but they are often gainfully employed, good fatherhood material and looking to settle down.”

My mom asked me what I thought about this. My first thought was, “Well, if that girl wants to have an unattractive husband, that’s her prerogative.”

Seriously, though, what is the difference between what she describes and, well, settling? In my opinion, if there’s anything a girl should be picky about, it’s the person she chooses to spend the rest of her life with. I mean, we’re not talking about a pair of shoes here.

Then again, is there a whole pool of guys I am needlessly eliminating from consideration? Or am I just saving myself heartache down the road?

Be honest, dear readers — am I being too picky?

I don’t wanna dream about the things that I used to need…

Hello, dear readers, and I hope you had a fantastic weekend. Mine felt sort of abbreviated because I got roped into spending all day Saturday in the office, but I made up for it today by taking a big nap, doing laundry, and doing some major grocery shopping. (I got to cook a big meal tonight for the first time in forever, and my friend J. came over — always more fun cooking for other people.) Best of all, I also got into the spirit of the season and bought some fun and festive Christmas decorations, including star string lights, a poinsettia, and a small “ornament tree.” I was thinking about getting a big artificial tree (I am sort of allergic to real trees and I think Noodles would wreak havoc anyway), but I haven’t decided. I don’t have too much extra storage space, so I’m not sure where the artificial tree would live the other 11 months of the year. Now, I just need to get started on my Christmas shopping…eek!

So last night I had date # 2 with the guy I mentioned a few posts ago who writes the witty emails. We went out to a yummy dinner, had good conversations and even shared creme brulee, my favorite. To finish the night off, we went to a nearby comedy club–my face hurt from laughing at the end of the night.

I came inside from the date feeling good. But this feeling was soon replaced by something else. Dating, going out, having fun is one thing. Actually getting into a relationship is another thing. Now, we obviously aren’t there or even close at this point. But if things continue like this, it seems we could be. And that, dear readers, scares me to death. My recent relationships and dating experiences have simply made me incapable of getting excited the way I used to. Before, I would let myself get so bright eyed and bushy tailed about everything. Now, I can’t help but think, Any new guy I like is just likely to be the next guy to break my heart. Is it worth it to keep trying over and over again?

Being single, truly single, and not going out on dates, things feel relatively easy. I have my rhythm, I do my own thing, I focus on work and plans and friends and family. I look around at people in couples, and I feel sort of detached and neutral — I’m happy they’re happy, but I’m not anxious to be there.

But I find that when I start putting myself out there, when I start inching towards the possibility of becoming involved with someone, it suddenly shines a big bright light on my singleness and it just makes me feel more lonely. I start thinking how much I really do want to meet someone, and how much I don’t want to want that. Because it’s something over which I have no control, and something I can’t force. Because who knows if and when I’ll ever meet someone I really want to get serious with. Because who knows if I meet that person if they will want to be with me or not.

Far easier just to step back and curl up in my little ball. But what kind of way is that to be?

Isn’t it Ironic

Two blog posts in one night? I guess tonight I am really enjoying the sound of my own “voice.”

So you, dear readers, know all about the erstwhile mancation. And you know that it was pretty much the worst mancation ever. While waxing poetic about taking time off from dating and time for myself and blah blah blah, what was I really doing? You got it – thinking about guys and wishing I were dating. I knew that I couldn’t jump into another relationship so soon after three back-to-back-to-back relationships (as the bad texter corrected me when I just said “back to back”) but this big strong part of me really wanted to just get into a relationship as soon as possible to keep from doing the scary work of looking at myself and taking care of myself. I guess you could say I went through relationship withdrawal. Like any addiction, it was mighty hard to give up. My single self was pretty deeply buried under my relationship self.

And, as you know, I ended the mancation a couple of weeks ago and have gone on a couple of dates. The most recent guy is the fabulous emailer who I met for drinks a week and a half ago. We had a fun time, laughed a lot, and are making plans to go out again.

But…….

I just don’t feel that excited about it. And you know what? I sincerely think it has nothing to do with him. He was funny and cute in email, funny and cute in person. There’s no real reason not to be optimistic.

But the bottom line is, I think maybe I just don’t want to date right now! Yes, you heard me — after struggling through a few months of forced and half-assed mancation, I am finally in a place where I feel so content on my own that I am hestitant to rock the boat. My life has (work aside) become incredibly tranquil. I don’t have the drama and stress that plagued my recent relationships. I spend time with friends, I read, I go to sleep whenever I want and eat whatever I want and watch whatever I want to watch on TV. It’s the first time in a long time that I can be truly, completely — I guess you could call it selfish!

I’ve always been a “why not” kind of person, so I’m sure I’ll go out with this guy again and try to keep an open mind.

But frankly, in my current mindset, someone’s got to be pretty damn awesome to compete with my all time favorite guy.

That’s right….

Noodles is by far the frontrunner.

Dating in L.A.: a Recap

Good evening, dear readers. In yesterday’s post I mentioned that I’ve been dating in L.A. for five years. (Actually, it’s almost 6 years. Even though I first moved to Southern California in 1998, I went to college in the Inland Empire (good ol’ I.E.) and I didn’t do any dating in L.A. proper until my senior year of college, after I turned 22. At any rate, I have been on my fair share of dates, and I thought that by way of background, as I embark on this round of dating, I’d fill you in on the people I’ve dated in the past. These, by the way, ranged from a single date to a 3 year relationship and everything in between.

1. First real L.A. guy I dated could not be more stereotypical L.A. My friends and I came out to L.A. to go out on the Sunset Strip and I met him at Miyagi’s (which, in my younger days, I used to love). He was from New York, an aspiring screenwriter, and lived in Hollywood in a tiny, messy 1 bedroom apartment. He was (shocker!) incredibly narcissistic. He wore — wait for it — white T shirts with the sleeves rolled up. Do you think my friends have stopped teasing me about this, six years later? Think again.

2. A guy who lived in Culver City with his mom and brother and drove a preposterously tricked out rice-rocket type car (he was a tall skinny white guy). On our second (and final) date we were hanging out at his condo (I think Mom was out of town) when his brother walked in with – guess who? – my date’s recent ex. I spent the next hour listening to my date tell all his friends on the phone what a bitch his ex was, and what a jerk his brother was.

3. A guy who was a few years older than me (probably 28 to my 22) and liked to repeatedly say “So is that what you kids are listening to/watching/etc these days?”

4. A guy I met through a friend, who when we first met, lived in a filthy fraternity house at UCLA. I frankly just wasn’t that into him, and this time it was me who pulled a disappearing act (after he had cooked me dinner at his new apartment, on a red and white checkered tablecloth no less.) Ouch! Can we say dating karma?

5. A guy who lived in Manhattan Beach and worked at Toyota and drove, lived and breathed Toyota. He was very cute, and I really liked him, but after 3 or 4 months of seeing each other I still didn’t feel much closer to him and it fizzled. Still, we had some truly fun dates — he always liked to try new restaurants.

6. A guy I went to law school with who told other people I was his girlfriend, but whose idea of a date was meeting up with each other at a bar. For my birthday that year (#23), he came along and played boyfriend and even gave me a pretty little necklace. Then, a week or so later, he dumped me — after we had just watched High Fidelity, no less. Unsurprisingly, given his vision of himself as a lawyer-slash-party boy, he now works at the fraternity of law firms. Oh and he is the infamous guy who made me pay $260 for my half of the meal.

7. An Australian guy who approached me in a coffee shop I used to study in, lived in a guest house in Bel Air, and whose claim to fame was one line in one action movie.

8. I guy I met on Friendster, went out with a few times until he dropped off the face of the earth. At the time I was confused and annoyed, but in hindsight, he WAS at least an inch shorter than me.

9. A friend of a college friend, who I emailed with at length, we knew each others’ life stories…but on our date we went to dinner and a billiards bar. He was uber competitive at pool, then looked over my head at the sports on TV all night. At the end, he realized he wasn’t over his ex.

10. A friend of a law school friend, who I had met previously when he was dating someone, and then we reconnected when we were both single. We went out a few times, but again, not over his ex. He was also very cute. Our mutual friend told me that I wasn’t really his “type” because his ex was a “big girl.” Well, within a year after things fizzled between us, he was dating a new girl…and my friends, looking at her picture online (they discovered this through the wonders of Myspace), declared her to be my twin.

After that I met my ex-fiance, we dated for 3 years, and I think you know, at least roughly, what has happened since! Has dating improved since I was 22? Well, I guess that remains to be seen, but given recent events, Little Miss Law’s Magic 8 Ball is reading “Outlook Not So Good.”

We’ll see, dear readers!

Five Years of Dating in Los Angeles (and Counting)

Last week after getting back from Ohio, dear readers, was jam packed with playing catch-up at work and lots of fun plans during the week, which left no time to fill you in on the life of Little Miss Law! So tonight I finally get to be in my PJs, watching my guilty-pleasure TV (The Hills), and catch up with the blog.

First, a confession. After much hyping of the mancation, it has, somewhat anti-climactically, come to an end. I think I explained the original purpose for the mancation — to take a breath, focus on Little Miss Law, get my head straight, and just enjoy being single. And I really have enjoyed, and continue to enjoy, being single. It’s a unique kind of freedom that it’s easy to forget about when you’re in a relationship: the ability to make all the plans you want, any night of the week; not having to worry what anyone else wants to do, eat, or watch on TV; not having to call and check in with anyone; and so on. Of course, these things do cut the other way — there are moments when I crave having a significant other to pick up the phone and call, or to come home to at the end of the day, but overall the single life is completely agreeing with me.

Still, I have slowly started to dip my pinky toe back in the dating pool, so to speak. I had belonged to two different dating websites before I met my most recent ex, met him on one of them, and never really used the other one, though I have continued to get the emails from the site continuously. In a not-so-sneaky-but-effective ploy, the site sends you the profiles of those people who email you, but you can’t actually read the emails until you pay. (Surely Little Miss Law must have the willpower/common sense to resist this blatant tactic? Um…sadly, no. You’re talking to the girl who no longer picks up her home phone because she will inevitably be persuaded into donating to her alma mater/the Democratic National Committee/Los Angeles firefighters…you get the idea.) Anyway, I was accruing more and more emails that I couldn’t read and I was generally uninterested in reading them (40 year old men need not apply), until I came across one profile that caught my eye. It was witty, interesting and the pictures were cute. Oh, what the hell, I thought, and I forked over the money.

What happened next should come as no surprise to me or to anyone else who has spent as many years dating in L.A. as I have: a fabulous date followed by a fabulous blow-off. A date that lasted hours because we were talking animatedly the whole time, a text message the next day saying he had fun, and then……nothing.

**crickets chirping**

What can I say? As they dedicate a whole chapter to in He’s Just Not That Into You, the poor guy must have died. There’s really no other explanation. And that’s very unfortunate, because he truly seemed like a good person.

There’s just something about dating. What can be more invigorating, and yet what can be more depressing? It seems to call up a whole contradictory mess of emotions. I’m an optimist, so I want to get excited about someone–because otherwise, what fun is it? Then again, it’s important to be realistic, for obvious reasons. Beginning to date again is supposed to mean I’m moving on, and yet it also makes me nostalgic for my past relationships, because the idea of starting over, learning the ins and outs of someone new, is just as exhausting as it is exciting. Maybe because of that, I’ve had these weird urges over the past couple of weeks to call or email my ex. (I haven’t.)

Dating again also makes me realize that the mancation, while very important and useful, was also very emotionally safe. If I made the decision not to put myself out there, and not to date no matter what, it made me invincible. I wouldn’t open up and, so, I wouldn’t ever be hurt or disappointed.

Much as I’d like to live in a world where I never get sad, where I would never again have feelings for someone that aren’t reciprocated, where I’d never again have a relationship make me cry, I know that’s not going to happen. Ultimately I believe I’ll end up with someone just right, but to get there I know I need to be open and not closed off.

And if that means kissing a few more frogs along the way, well, so be it.

I have a lot of L.A. dating stories over my several years here that I could share with you, and I’m liable to have many more…so, dear readers, I’ll keep you posted!

Taking a Poll…

So tonight I watched Knocked Up (for the 2nd time) on DVD … such a funny movie. My friend and I began debating whether a girl like Katherine Heigl‘s character would realistically 1) have a one-night stand with or 2) end up with, Seth Rogen‘s character.

I won’t share yet what side of the debate I was on. What do you think, dear readers?

Age Ain’t Nothing But A Number (or is it?)

Am I dating myself already by referencing Aaliyah’s debut album from 1994? Well, so be it.

A few weeks ago, dear readers, I posed the age-old question of whether men and women can be friends. Another platonic date and another mix CD later, I am still wondering. Last night, my young friend B. (how young you ask? Well, both numbers in his age are the same number. And no, he’s not 11) and I met for dinner near where I work and where he lives. I was struck again by how mature, how interesting, how easygoing and how sweet he is. And yet everytime I had a positive thought, it was quickly followed by my inner voice screaming, “HE’S TOO YOUNG FOR YOU!!!” This is 100% true, I concede. Along with several other things, some age related, some not, that would be likely dealbreakers. And, of course, the mancation. So that leaves me with the conclusion: “So, good. We’ll keep being friends.”

But then I wonder, does this type of friendship work? Or will we inevitably have an awkward moment in the future? I suppose only time will tell and I should enjoy his company in the meantime. I’m not trying to be egotistical, but here are a few things that make me (again) query whether he was telling the truth when he said he just wanted to be friends.
–He made me mix CD # 2 yesterday.
–Yesterday I mentioned offhand “Oh, did I tell you I was engaged?” and his jaw dropped and he said, “You’re ENGAGED?” Then I had to clarify that no, I WAS engaged. Past tense.
–He is more willing to make plans ahead with me than either of the last two people I dated. (ok, that is probably more of a commentary on my relationships than anything.)

My friend T. opined that B. is a smitten kitten (speaking of which, Noodles is sleeping peacefully next to me…he is so cute) and so I asked her what to do. She told me that in her view, I had 3 choices. I could date him; I could tell him that “for his own good” we shouldn’t hang out; or I could just keep on hangng out with him as friends. I’m not going to date him; I already told him so; and so #3 seems like the obvious choice. Am I being naive?

After dinner he gave me a 1 block ride on his motorcycle back to my car. (Don’t worry M & D – we rode slow and I wore his helmet.) I’m such a scaredy cat but it was exhilarating.

There’s something just so wide eyed and unjaded about him. I remember being that way.

Oh, to be 22 again …