You, you got what I need, but you say she’s just a friend

So, time for the epilogue on Mr. Nice Guy.  I saw him at a concert this weekend we were both attending with the same group of friends.  And who was with him?  His new girlfriend, which came to a shock to everyone there.  Particularly… me.

So apparently, after our date, he ended up having a talk with a friend of his who he had drunkenly slept with at some point before he met me.  And now they’ve decided to give dating a try.  So… yeah, that just happened.  But apparently he did actually like me, and did mean all the things he said and was genuine in his behavior, at the time.  So, there’s that?  Either way, crummy timing.  Luckily, I’ve been through essentially this same situation before, so this is pretty much old hat.  Yay?

Sadly, there’s really not a damn thing you can do to compete with a friend.  Especially after just one date.  And also, what an awkward situation for him to be in (unless he was secretly in love with her, but seriously dude, if you just slept with the girl you’re in love with, don’t try dating someone else until you have figured that sitch out).  But he can’t exactly say, “Yeah, I know I slept with you and we’ve been good friends for years, but I think I’m going to keep dating this girl I just met and have been on one date with” unless he wants to lose a friend.  And possibly get a swift kick to the crotch.  Que sera sera.

So at first I was pretty bummed.  Then I was kind of angry for him putting me in the situation of having zero forewarning that what was already going to be an awkward encounter at the concert (“So… how’s it been since that date you never called me after?”) would include the added insult of him making out with a new girl in front of me.  Then I was filled with general feelings of inadequacy.  Then I felt sorry for him being in that situation.  Then I was bummed again.  Then I was angry at fate for sending an interloper to screw up my awesome connection.  Then I contemplated what an awesome word “interloper” was and looked it up in the dictionary to just confirm that it was the most perfect word ever for this scenario (“One that interferes with the affairs of others, often for selfish reasons” – damn straight, dictionary.com!).  Then I ate some girl scout cookies.

And THEN today, I decided that perhaps this wasn’t Fate enjoying some great schadenfreude at my expense – perhaps this was fate intervening because this is still not the right guy!  And then I remembered that my friend had sent me the Michael Buble song “Haven’t Met You Yet” – so now I am taking this as a sign that Mr. Right is still somewhere out there, and when it’s really meant to be with a guy, he won’t be dissuaded by a friend suddenly realizing she wants to date him.

Perhaps this romantic optimism means you should call me Charlotte, but instead…

xoxo, Samantha

giving it one more go…

folks, i’m going to give online dating one more try. i tried it briefly about a year ago and met a dude who was…different. he had a SUPER high voice, was drinking girlie martinis (i know, i shouldn’t judge this…but on a first date, i totally did) and he was just weird. so i gave it up, and said it wasn’t for me. however, last night i was thinking that maybe i should give it a go one more time. so i did it. i reactivated my profile and am ready for the hilarious stories that are sure to come. i’ll keep y’all posted.

does anyone have an online dating success story? i do have a couple of friends who actually dated men for about 4 months that they met online. which is definitely something. i just felt like i would rather not waste time seeing if someone actually looks like their picture. however, i’m going to try to be open-minded and see where it leads me… :)

xoxo,

carrie

ugh.

it’s valentine’s day. i have never particularly cared for valentine’s day. not because i hate the world or i hate couples or anything like that. i just hate the long waits at restaurants (when i worked at houston’s we would run a 3 hour wait on v-day. ridiculous. who WERE those people?!) and i hate that it’s categorized as a holiday that women care about so much. my best valentine’s day was when the ex and i went to the circus. it was so fun. regardless, it’s a big holiday and today two unsettling things happened that forced me to think about valentine’s day.

first, the ex sent me a text this afternoon. yes, not earth shattering news, i know. but let me back up. the ex told me not quite a month ago, that his wife was freaking out about us being facebook friends. he would have to defriend me and he might even delete his fb account. keep in mind, that i NEVER write on his call, comment on things he says/posts/etc. we have NO fb contact at all. i am just listed on his friends list. well, i was, at least. after he told me that she was pissed, he defriended me. he also informed me he was pissed about the whole thing and thanks for being understanding, blah blah blah. cut to about 1:45 pm. he sends me a text message wishing me a happy valentine’s day. are you freakin’ serious dude? it’s valentine’s day. you are married with twins on the way. the LAST thing i want is to hear from you. sigh.

THEN, the banker calls me. i was so shocked i literally just stared at the phone. he didn’t leave a message so i have no idea what he wanted. but i don’t understand why all these exes feel the need to text/call on freaking valentine’s day. just let me be. y’all don’t know the banker, but suffice to say that he fucked with my head enough that i had to cut him out of my life just to get a clean break and let myself breathe again.

so, what does this all mean? it means that on what is supposed to be a day full of love, two people i have previously loved but have moved on from (with much difficulty in one case, maybe even both) felt the need to contact me. perhaps i should be flattered? except i’m not. i just wanted to go about my business on feb. 14th and not really have to think about previous relationships. and since receiving said text/call, it’s all i’ve been able to do. ugh.

xoxo,

carrie

sex without feelings?

it is my personal belief that women who say that they can have sex “like men” (you know, with no feelings and no attachment) are lying. i know a few women who profess to be able to do this. but they are the same women who get their panties in a bunch when the guy they had “feeling-less” sex with fails to call. as for me, i don’t have causal sex because i know that i can’t. for me, sex isn’t causal. but i sometimes wish i was able to. wouldn’t it be nice to be able to sleep with someone and then not feel like you are in love with them?

how would that even work? my male friends have explained to me many times how they are just wired differently than the average woman. when they have sex, it is simply a physical act. it doesn’t necessarily (but can) have a thing to do with the person they are currently with. it’s just about feeling good.

does anyone out there profess to be able to do this? i have to warn you, i’m going to be very skeptical and probably not believe you. but i’d love to hear your story. :)

xoxo,

carrie

Samantha’s Book Club

In part due to having moments of weakness where I thought self-help books could be useful and in part due to my mother (bless her heart!) sending me the occasional “single girls are great!” empowerment book, I have amassed a small collection of girly books with dating advice.  Most are pretty blah, a few are actually pretty good (I particularly liked “Cinderella Was a Liar“ by Brenda Della Casa), and a few are downright enraging to any girl with a scrap of dignity.

But just this week, a new book was released that caught my attention:

WHAT?!?

I seriously did a bit of a double-take when I saw this book – “Marry Him: The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough.”  This seems to go against everything I’ve ever believed!  There must be such outrage from the public!  Who is this person to dare suggest I should settle for a second-rate man?  Me, the girl who spent 3 years looking for the perfect pair of earmuffs before buying a pair!

So I then read the reviews, which all seemed to be… positive?  [Side note: I really don't know how they do the official (as in not from people like me) "reviews" section on Amazon - perhaps the author can screen out people who call her a hack?]  But when people say things like “The Rules turned single women needy, He’s Just Not That Into You made them depressed, and Marry Him finally sets them free,” perhaps it actually has a valid point?  Every fiber of my being wants to say, “No!  I refuse to settle!”  But then I remember that, thus far, I have yet to meet that tall, dark, handsome, green-eyed, dimpled, intelligent, well-educated, ambitious, hilariously funny, down-to-earth, mature, athletic, compassionate, genuinely sweet man with a Brad Pitt face and Jesus abs, who adores me for who I am, knows how to cook, sends me flowers in a non-cliche way, and finds it endearing that I am kind of a slob with what we’ll politely call a “strong personality.”  Perhaps our problem really is that we have labeled anything short of perfection to be “settling” and, when combined with that feeling that there is an even better guy just around the corner (I’ll save Samantha’s Theory of Dating Fungibility for another time), we never actually allow ourselves to be happy with this pretty all-around decent guy we’ve met?  So maybe this woman is onto something, in much the same way the infamous phrase “he’s just not that into you” collectively shocked women everywhere at first, but then it sort of… made sense?

So now I am seriously contemplating reading this book.  I’d love to hear feedback from any of you on the idea behind this book – is it time that we start to, for lack of a better word, settle?

xoxo, Samantha

What happens now?

Ah, the date with Mr. Nice Guy was everything one could possibly hope for in a date.  We joked and laughed and had a delightful time and it felt as though I’d known him for years.  Indeed, after dinner he took me to a really cute little wine bar where he happened to know the owner, and the owner got on his case for not having brought me around sooner – he would not believe it was our first date because we seemed so comfortable together!

So now comes the question of what happens next.  This is in part due to the horrifically stupid Hallmark holiday coming up next weekend.  What does one do when your second date would be Valentine’s Day weekend?  How horribly awkward!  Dinner reservations would be impossible to come by, and you would be surrounded by mushy couples everywhere, and the whole date would be tainted with forced romance.  (I’m obviously just jumping right over the very slight issue that he has not actually asked me out on a second date, but I remain optimistic despite my unfortunate history of being incapable of making it to “date three” more than once a year.)  Although I believe that my officemate had invited him to join our “Valentine’s Night at the Clerb” plans for Sunday night (thank you, President’s Day!) and that would be a whole lot less pressure than having to go on a date.

Beyond the strategic problems of what happens next due to this insipid holiday, the bigger problem is what happens next due to me being, somewhat unfortunately, me.  Despite what can often be a harsh exterior, I really am the most pathetically sappy romantic at heart, and my goodness I can become smitten fast.  Literally, you give me a look that even sort of resembles this:

and I am pretty much ready to have your children (bonus points if you have just done a sexy-diving-into-a-lake-in-your-Victorian-era-skivvies move).  But anyways, Mr. Nice Guy totally gave me a variant of that look!  With the main variations being that he was wearing a less girly shirt and was not Colin Firth.  So now I’m all turning into a googly-eyed ball of girl mush, and that is never a good thing to turn into after a first date!

So, to sum up: (Me + Mr. Darcy Stare)/(Insipid Hallmark Holiday) = (Ball of Girl Mush) – (Any Idea of What Comes Next).

And yes, I’m a huge nerd.

xoxo, Samantha

The Mythical Nice Guy – He Does Exist!

So the magical third day rolled around, and in accordance with all the stupid rules men have been told (I blame Swingers), as I was sitting on my couch during the 8 to 9 pm window (which is the prime time to make such a phone call), I hear the unmistakably sound of “Bad Romance” start up – my phone is ringing!  So I put my Millionaire Matchmaker (don’t judge, that is some quality entertainment) on mute and answer the phone.  I’m 60% sure this caught him off guard, because no one actually answers their phones nowadays.  But answer I did.  And he’s very cute and jokes that he had been walking past a sporting goods store and saw a tennis racket and remembered that he’d been meaning to call (and yes, it literally took me talking to my officemate to make the connection to the Australian Open final from Saturday, because I could have sworn I hadn’t discussed with him that I used to be a tennis player and was very perplexed).  So he says he’d like to see me and wonders if I’m free for dinner on Friday.  Which I am, because I have no life.  So he’s going to get back in touch with me re: exact time and location, but date is on for roughly 9:30 on Friday (yes, it’s NYC, a 9:30 dinner is not horrifically late).  Success!

In an additional stroke of adorable nice-guyness, he contacted my officemate today to see if I have any dietary restrictions.  That is just precious.  I also really need to stop referring to guys I date as “precious,” I suppose it’s a bit emasculating and a smidge condescending.  But I like precious!  I appreciate precious!  Precious is my type.  So emasculated it is.

Stay tuned to find out if Mr. Nice Guy lives up to the fairly generic moniker I have arbitrarily given him on here.

xoxo, Samantha

To be friends or Not to be friends

At the end of every relationship (or after the anger subsides), we are all faced with the same question: Should I be friends with my ex? Or more realistically…CAN I be friends with my ex? I often struggle with this question. I’ve learned that friendship is not possible right after a relationship ends – there is always too much emotion involved to begin discussing trivial day to day activities like you do with friends. But what about after you’ve given it enough time? This person was a huge part of your life — and probably knows you better than anyone else…

I’ve discovered that there are very strong views on this topic. My sister doesn’t believe in being friends with exes. It makes her uncomfortable that her boyfriend still talks to his ex because she doesn’t see the value in keeping in touch with someone from your past when you have someone in your present. But I see the value in being friends with your ex. You have put so much time into your relationship, why throw it away just because it wasn’t forever??

I’ve remained close friends with two of my exes. The first was a struggle to get from dating to friendship. He was my first heartbreak and I tried to keep in touch with him right away and it dragged on the break-up for years. However, now that we have reached friend mode (5 years down the road), I love that he is a part of my life. This successful friendship inspired me to try it with my most recent ex –this time making sure I gave myself enough time post break-up.

But relationships with ex’s are inherently more complicated than other friendships. What happens when one of the parties starts dating someone new? Do you still remain friends? I found myself asking this when one of my exes started dating a girl who didn’t like that we kept in touch. He refused to completely cut me out of his life, which may have contributed to his relationship not working out. Of course, I didn’t find this out until later. So the question became more complicated — is being friends with an ex worth risking a current relationship?

So what do you think – should you ever stay friends with an ex??

xoxo Charlotte

The Mythical Nice Guy?

Friday night I went out to dinner with my officemate, which also included meeting several of her friends from law school.  One of these guys turned out to be an adorably goofy and super nice guy with a precious Southern accent and a pink shirt.  He also looks about 12, but that is neither here nor there.  So I thought he seemed really fun and nice on Friday, but didn’t get to talk to him all that much.  But went out again with that same group on Saturday, and spent basically the whole night chatting with him.  And he is just the nicest guy ever!  Probably the kind of nice guy of the “nice guys finish last” variety, who ends up having to cheer up his female friends when they get dumped or has to hold back their hair if they get too drunk, but by the time you are my age those guys are much more appealing than the bad boys of my youth.

So Saturday, we hit it off, and by about 3:30 the rest of the group has gone home and it’s just the two of us at the bar, and we decide that clearly it is a good idea for me to go back to his place to watch the Australian Open final live.  Sketchy potential = super high.  But, being the nicest guy ever, he’s all, I want to take you on a legit date, but now that you’re here I’d also like you to stay over, so I don’t think we should do anything beyond making out.  Ahhhh, so cute, right?  Who says chivalry is dead?  (And yes, it is sad that my idea of chivalry is that you don’t try to immediately get into my pants – you take me to dinner, then you try to get in my pants.)  So the night is all well and good and cutesy and all those adorable things.  And in the morning he gets my number so he can call and ask me on a real date.

So this is where my 28 years of life experience (read: rampant skepticism) rears its ugly head.  Why in the world would you ask for my number so you can just call me to arrange a date?  I just woke up at your place, we can probably skip the “wait three days” rule at this point.  Plus, arranging a date before I head out will make me feel like less of a trashbag for going home with you the second time we hung out.  But fine, get my number, call me to go on this “real date” you spoke of several times.  But now it has been two days and you have not called to arrange this date!  Again, the “rules” got chucked somewhere along the FDR in the cab on the way to your place.  But one would think that, as you so clearly kept Saturday in the PG zone because you want to take me on a real date since you are just such a superniceguy, you would want to take me on that date as soon as possible to at least see how willing I am to venture into territory that involves a PG-13 rating as a minimum.  So I am perplexed.  And while I would say that every sign points to this guy being sincere in his interest, I have had enough of these “he’s DEF going to call!” moments where I never heard from the guy again to be a bit apprehensive.  So I guess only time will tell if the Nice Guy really does exist!

xoxo, Samantha

late night texts

so, we’ve all done it. it’s late, you’ve been out all night and after about 5 hours of drinking, you’re feeling a little…lonely. nothing is happening with the people you’ve met while you’ve been out and you just wish you had someone to go home to.  so you pull out your cell phone and search for that special someone to text. i’ve done it. you’ve done it. we’ve all done it. but i have to say, the text i got last night was a little different from the usual post-midnight text. i’m used to sending last receiving flirtatious texts. things like: “what are you up to?” “let’s get a drink” “it’s cold…you still up?”…you know, basically texts that make multiple things clear. 1) i’m awake and drunk, 2) i’m horny 3) i’ve selected you as the lucky one who can help me out with my problems.

last night my friend cocoa k apparently decided that i was the lucky one. at about 3:15am, i got a random text from him. clearly a text message at that hour only means that he wants to hook up. what’s funny about cocoa k’s text is that he said that most innocuous, random thing ever. his text said (and i quote): “hey, did you leave a hat in my car?” um…are you freaking kidding me?! THAT is your way of telling me you want to come over/pick me up? i woke up when he sent it because i’m a light sleeper. i looked at that message and laughed. then immediately went right back to bed. you’re going to have to do better than that, cocoa k.

(oh and by the way, i then proceeded to have a weird ass dream about cocoa k’s mother catching us  making out. weird go figures). men, i swear!

xoxo,

carrie