Tuesday, June 7, 2011


I've been divorced less than a year, and I'm already sick of dating. I hate everything about it - the nerves, the being on my best behavior, the shaving my legs, the rejection, and the doing it over and over and over again. I hate it.

I've been on a series of bad first dates lately. Here's a quick recap of them, so you can appreciate the awfulness of dating for yourself.

First there was the guy named after a grain (I call him G-NAG for short). He was from Kansas, so I suppose the naming might have been appropriate. We had the following exchange within the first 10 minutes of meeting:
G-NAG: "So, yeah, I'm looking to change positions within my company soon. In fact, there's a good chance I'll be moving to London in a month or so."
Me: ".... So why are we here?"
G-NAG: "I know, right?"
Me: "No, really - why are we doing this then?"
And that was pretty much the unofficial end of that date.

Then there was the guy who owned a spa. He was nice enough - funny, a good conversationalist, etc. - except I felt like I was hanging out with my gay best friend the entire time. Plus, he started the date by telling me about all the nasty bacteria that lives in the jet lines for the tubs you get to soak in when you get a pedicure. Way to ruin the best part of a pedicure, buddy.

And we can't forget the arrogant jackass I mentioned before: the one who told his 4-year-old daughter she couldn't be a princess because Americans don't have royalty. I plan to resent him for the next 20 years, which is right around the time his daughter will realize what a dream-crushing ass he is and start resenting him for herself.

Another recent date held some promise, right up until he mentioned that he'd been at an all-day yoga retreat the day before (not my thing), and was a fan of eating raw food (sorry, but cashew cream "ice cream" is not ice cream), and had just returned from a weekend trip to southern Colorado during which he cross country skied with all his gear on his back for several miles to stay in a yurt for a few days. As my boss (and friend) put it, "That data point is so far outside your range, it's not even funny."

In short: those dates weren't worth the time I spent shaving my legs.

Not all the dates have been bad. Some have been deceptively good. There was the high school world history teacher who loves travel and food. We talked and laughed without any awkward pauses. I thought it was going great until an hour into it when he announced that he "had a long day" and "was tired." He never called, so apparently it wasn't going so great after all. Then there was the musician/world traveler who also had an actual career - we had fun, but I never heard from him again either.

I want to say that I'm done with dating for now, but that would be a lie. I do want to meet someone, probably more than I want to avoid the pain in the ass that is dating. But I'm still so frustrated with this whole process. The dates are either total flops, or I think they're going well but I clearly can't read the signs (are there signs even?). If I'm not suffering through hours of awfulness, then I'm getting my hopes up only to be thoroughly disappointed. I genuinely don't understand what's going on. I'm being my amazing and witty self, I'm not calling and nagging afterwards, and I don't feel like I'm trying too hard. I just don't get it. I thought I'd at least have one second date by now.

I'm not kidding myself and trying to date out of my league. I know the rule of thumb that people of similar levels of attractiveness generally date one another. I'm not targeting Brad Pitt; I'm looking for a man of average looks. I'm also looking for a smart, funny, sociable, professional man who is interested in food, travel, and books and generally has his shit together. Oh, and who is interested in me. Given my qualifications (smart, funny, sociable, professional and interested in food, travel, and books and generally have my shit together), I don't think I'm overreaching there. And yet even a glimpse of that man eludes me.

Most of all, I'm tired. I'm tired of putting myself out there and getting nothing back. I'm tired of going through all the motions with no payoff. And I'm tired of thinking I'm doing everything right when I'm clearly not.

I'm just tired of it all.


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