three strikes and...

Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to my version of The Dating Game!

Last week I had 3, count 'em THREE, dates. Mind you, this is not at all typical for me. In fact, it is not typical for me to have three dates in one month, let alone one week. It was just how the dice rolled.

Bachelor #1 and I got dinner on Monday. I met him a couple of months ago. I liked him then and liked him more after the date was over but he is busy, has a lot going on, and though I do think he is interested I haven't heard from him. He actually doesn't live in Manhattan so I am not super optimistic that this one is going to work out but it was nice to feel that chemistry with someone. I would definitely like to see him again but who knows... It is always the ones you like who never call, right ladies?

Bachelor #2 didn't make me a fan of his from the start. After being a bit of a pain in terms of planning, we met up and ended up going for coffee. This turned out to be the shortest date I've ever been on. It lasted less than 45 mins. I referred to it as "mutual disinterest". We parted amicably I think and I was amused by the fact that he really did not seem that into me and our romance was so very shortlived. I happily relayed the story to my BFF on the way to the subway and spent happily jealous of Pam Beesly instead.

Bachelor #3 was quite nice and impressive in the beginning but the chemistry that I dsecribed with #1 really wasn't there. As I've said, that pretty much makes or breaks a date for me. I was disappointed but decided to put it aside and focus on getting to know a new person while enjoying a great new restaurant. At least that helped me through. I opted to go home rather than go for drinks after and though I feel badly about it because he does seem like a nice guy, I don't think I will be seeing him again. Back to the drawing board...

It seems I'm 0 for 3 this time around but none of my meetings went like this!:

midnight ode to my jim

I just got through watching last night's episode of "The Office" and I am in full-fledged swooning mode wanting a Jim Halpert of my very own. Seriously. Is it weird to be completely in love with a fictional character? I know I'm not the only one though. Thousands of girls must have tuned in, eyes green with jealousy and Cinderella complexes heightened, as Thursday night's favorite sit-com couple tied the knot with a parody of Chris Brown's Forever and the YouTube wedding dance in the background - as only the office staff could do it.

I'm kind of the Pam Beesly of my department. I have curly hair about the same color, dress pretty moderately, and though I don't answer my phone saying "Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam." I often feel like my department's version of a secretary - that is, I am the most junior member. So where is my Jim I ask you? I want someone who will cut his tie with a pair of scissors because I'm knocked up, hormonal and crying over a torn veil (ok, maybe not the first part but as Michael Scott says, it isn't the 1890's people!) Add to that having to babysit a co-worker with an injured scrotum. I would cry too, Pam. I would cry too.

Loved it all. And even though I know he's not real, I go to bed hoping that like Santa Claus, winning lotto tickets, and calorie-free burritos, Jim Halperts really do exist.

shop talk - some of my favorite books that all coincidentally have blue covers

Yesterday I had lunch with my boss's boss's boss (did'ya get that?) and there was much talk about my position, how I came into the industry, what I love about my job, etc. We talked a lot about books - how we love them and love bringing them to people - and now my mind is swimming with all the great reads I've come across this year. I keep a running tally of the books I've read (I do love lists so it is no suprise) and have done so since 2004. At the end of the year I will probably post my top 10 list but here are a few I've loved lately that I feel might translate well to the blogosphere:

Commencement by J. Courtney Sullivan

This one is like Sex and the City meets Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. It chronicles four young women who become friends at the all-girls' Smith College and in alternating voices follows them through the before and after; the good, bad and ugly. But more than just your average chick lit read, this book tackles more than men, dating, family and friendship drama. It also addresses feminism and even sex-trafficking. Lest you be swayed by that last one, this is definitely an addictive read that will make you want to call all your girl friends and will have you wishing you went to Smith and lived down the hall from these girls.

Alice I Have Been by Melanie Benjamin

One of the perks of being in the book business is that you have access to many books before they are released. This one actually isn't out until January, but if you love historical fiction, children's books, and Alice in Wonderland, you'll love this one. It is a novel based on the life of Alice Liddell, the young girl who was the inspiration for Lewis Caroll's Alice. The book is haunting, intriguing and will have you Wikipedia-ing its characters late into the night after you've finished.

Swimming by Nicola Keegan

I love books with strong, well-written characters and Pip definitely a badass. I also feel like I'm in great company because I endorsed this book right around the same time Judy Blume did. Woohoo! Pip is a young girl from a small town in Kansas with big Olympic dreams. Even in the face of family drama, she doesn't quit. Nevermind the fact that the cover makes me long for summer, this is a wonderful read.

Addition by Toni Jordan

Lisa Grace Vandenburg loves order. She counts everything, knows obscure facts about obscure historical figures, and struggles every day to keep it going. That is, until something somes along that she can't control: love. I really did feel like I was getting into this character's head. Funny and charming, this book will stick with you and you will find yourself relating to Lisa in one way or another.

just another Wednesday

This is the city that never sleeps. I can have both Mickey D's and my laundry delivered. There are thousands of restaurants, Broadway shows, and millions of people to talk to.

And I am b.o.r.e.d.

I got home around 7 tonight with nothing in particular to do other than cook and eat dinner. After I settled in bed to watch Sunshine Cleaning. Good movie by the way - see it. Now I'm watching Modern Family (also good - see it) but through it all I'm dying for a little friendly company. Someone to argue over stupid things with, talk about my day with, annoy incessantly with my chatter. Normally, my trusty, lovely roommate fills this void. But she is home visiting fam and my other roommates tend not to be so good at the talking to me part, so here I am trying to come up with some new boredom busters. Makes me want to go back to my rut list.

I'm up on my Gosselin gossip (Seriously, Jon and Kate, consider your 8 children before you air your dirty laundry!), I've browsed the blogs, read my weekly copy of TimeOut magazine, overanalyzed my single status, contemplated calling my folks, had two ongoing conversations with friends via text, blah blah blah.

What do you do when you're bored?

lessons for this reformed dating dummy, vol. 1

Last night I went on a date. I met him a couple of months ago on what turned out to be a very fun night. Since it was a first date, and I like him so far, I had the mandatory butterflies and worries but it turned out to be a great night. After I got home, I was reflecting on what the process of dating, as much as I hate it, has taught me about myself and what I'm looking for in a guy:

1. I like gentlemen.

I may be a modern woman but there is nothing classier on a date than a guy who says "After you.", opens a door for me, and yes, pays for dinner. The willingness to fork over cash for my food isn't a requirement for a great date, but it certainly doesn't hurt. Having "gone Dutch" my fair share of times, I admit to feeling disappointed when someone has not offered to foot the bill and I also admit to having let a guy I have no intention of seeing again pay for my drinks. Usually, I feel bad about this unless he is a total jerk, in which case it makes me feel a bit vindicated. As awkward as the inevitable end-of-date-reaching-for-the-check will he?/won't he? is, it is not a requirement, nor a means for elimination. But it certainly scores the boys points.

2. There really is no discounting chemistry.

In my opinion, there is little rhyme or reason for why I click with some guys and don't with others. Some might be interesting, attractive, personable, friendly, funny and great on paper but if he carries himself a certain way or holds his fork another way, it is a turn off. Before I paint myself as an incredibly picky person, I will say that while I am selective, just because I can't stand the sound of a guy's laugh, doesn't mean I'm not open minded. Sometimes I tell myself that maybe the chemistry will develop, that the laugh or the way he holds the fork will be come endearing. This is how I dated a guy I didn't really like for a month last year. But when it's right, it's right. Sitting across from someone and feeling the ease with which the conversation flows really helps with the hopeless feelings a string of dud dates will bring. And this all just reaffirms what I've already discovered to be true: chemistry is so important to me.

3. Dating blogs are filled with good tips.

I should have read this before last night. Next time I won't pick a sports bar.

4. There will always be awkward silence.

Eventhough we had a lot to talk about last night, there were definitely moments of awkward silence. While family, TV, movies, and other safe and standard topics are all well and good sometimes you just don't know what to say next. Sometimes it is weird. I'm learning to go with it.

5. It really, really helps if you find him utterly adorable.

'Nuff said!

I'm a woman, w-o-m-a-n

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Thanks to those of you who commented on my last post. I am feeling a bit better and am regaining focus and perspective. Having a day off, and thus the ability to sleep in, also helps.

Today my friend K and I hoofed it to the IKEA in Red Hook (Brooklyn). I'd been planning on going shopping for sweaters, boots, and a new wool coat, but I decided to embrace the idea of company and girl talk and accompany K on her quest for a bookcase. It is amazing that I resisted buying anything as I love IKEA and haven't been in forever but I just kept reminding myself... Sweaters. Boots. These things don't buy themselves.

I volunteered to help her carry the big, heavy cardboard box back into Manhattan in exchange for her cooking me dinner sometime next week. Sounds like a fair trade for my day's workout. So we took the water taxi in and then hailed a cab on Wall Street. It seems the men in Manhattan have never seen two able-bodied women carrying a large box as we got three, count 'em THREE, comments along the way. As we got off the water taxi we were asked if we were carrying Jimmy Hoffa in there. We smiled and kept walking. Then when we were waiting at the curb to hail a cab another guy said, "Heeeey, nice box!" Is it really that ridiculous that we would be doing this alone? Do we really need boyfriends? We may be the weaker sex but a 50 lb. box isn't exactly impossible... Then there was the cabbie who, as we were lifting the box to put it in his trunk said, "Ooooh you poor girls! You poor ladieeeeeeees. So heavyyyy." Yes, we were doing it alone AND K will put it together by herself using tools! Imagine that!

We were flabbergasted by all the attention we were getting but still it is a bit funny and we got a chuckle out of it. Men? What men?

two years...

I went. I saw. I won nothing.

The event itself was great. Awesome location, great prizes and DJ but there was a reason I didn't want to go and it was only solidified once I got there.

Two years ago today I boarded a plane alone. I had two suitcases, a backpack, a duffel bag, and an address of a 20-something girl living in the West Village in my hand. I lost the address and had to call her from La Guardia airport. I was feeling brave but won't lie, I was pretty terrified. I had no idea if this girl was going to be an axe murderer. I'd only spoken to her once on the phone - as we hammered out the agreement. I would sublet a room in her New York City apartment. I'd been working on getting to New York for months and here it was. I was going. By myself. I've said it ad nauseum but this was a big deal for me. I'm not plucky and I'm not fearless but I am determined as hell.

I got to the city and gave the cabbie the exact address - a blatant signal to my newbie status. Later, I'd come to know cross streets well. I got out of the cab to meet the girl who had pretty single-handedly changed my future and found her to be warm and friendly. Together we lugged my crap up six flights of stairs (hello, Manhattan!) I called my mother from my new (empty) bedroom and then we went to a pub down the street for dinner. She wouldn't let me pay for my $4 grilled cheese. She said I had plenty of time to pay New York's restaurant prices. This was the first in many small acts of kindness, unless you count the whole - you know - letting this stranger, a proverbial blue jean baby, come live with her.

Two years ago today I began what has become a relationship built on mutual respect. I respect the city, the unwritten rules, the pitfalls and the wonderment and in turn, I believe I have been respected. But last night, as I stood in the busy, pulsing atmosphere thinking "Shit, I should have made someone come with me." and feeling utterly stupid at being there solo, I felt what I have been feeling all week - alone.

Never before have I felt as free or as brave over the past two years. It has done wonders for my soul and courage. But I am tired of being alone, walking alone, experiencing alone. I know there is a reason I am, I know I have had lessons to learn. I've met some amazing (and some weird!) people along the way. And life continues... I just hope that by the time two more years have passed, I won't be flying solo, with two suitcases in tow, anymore.

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