Rekindling with Old “Non-Flames”

Everything comes full circle, right? Even in dating.  Guys you thought were “Bye-Bye” are suddenly saying “Hi Hi”… a year later.  In droves!!

Here’s the scenario… You meet someone date-worthy…make a connection…hit the town a few times…and he suddenly drops off the planet.  No hurt feelings, because the sparks never ignited.  Regardless, 12 months later, you find yourself answering an “unfamiliar number” only to hear a “somewhat familiar” voice on the other end. Yep, it’s one of “last year’s guys” trying to hop back onboard the spaceship and orbit in your galaxy.  Or perhaps you run into an old “non-flame” innocently one night, and then realize, “Wow, maybe he is a cutie.”

There’s nothing WRONG with this… In fact, kudos to sincere guys who try to reconnect after a lengthy hiatus.   Because, after all – timing is everything!

I found myself falling “lucky victim” to this scenario recently…

First:  I ran into “Dakota Dude” in downtown Denver.  Not sure why, but we just never clicked last year when we went out on the “traditional match date” consisting of two drinks, one appetizer, and 1.5 hours of staring at each other.  (Come on, you’ve been there.)  It WAS fun to see him after all those months…so good that he snuck in a late night kiss after one too-many-beers at the bar. Thankfully, I’ve kissed enough of my guy friends to know smooches can be strictly innocent in mucho beer-drinking situations.

Second:  Scooter Guy surprised me one Sunday morning calling me at 10 AM sharp.  I let the unfamiliar number go to voicemail, praying it wasn’t an emergency work call or the local firefighter’s union asking for cash.  Turns out Scooter Guy had just broken up with his girlfriend of eight months and wanted to reconnect as friends, asking for a “non-date-date”…whatever the heck that is.  Actually, I’m quite open to this, considering my sweet southern side loves making more friends.  Plus, later, when we actually did meet up for the infamous non-date-date, I hopped aboard the scooter, hung on tightly, and enjoyed the breeze – feeling “oh-so-super” urban and chic as I cruised through Denver’s Platte Park neighborhood.

Third:  Early one morning, the “Aussie Therapist” shot me a nice email asking for a second chance.  He even told me, “I don’t know why we never went on a second date, but now I’m regretting it.”  I had to crank back the old memory log from a year ago and remember our brief time together…but it went something like this… We wined and dined…laughed all night…he walked me to my car…texted a bit afterward…then he disappeared after the first snowfall.  I wasn’t really upset by his departure, as I had a few other guys in the batting cage ready to make their move.  But I always wondered…”What if?”  Now I’m wondering if the accent will still make him irresistible?

So why all these old “non-flames?”  It’s actually fairly simple.

Think about it…dating forces you to be a player…you can’t deny it.  Here’s why… In a typical dating season, you’re juggling roughly three people at once. You really like Guy #1….but you must experience three awesome dates before it gets serious. So even when you’re at the “second date” benchmark with Guy #1…you gotta go on a first date with Guy #2 just to keep the train rolling and your options open.  (Because at any given moment, Guy #1 could drop the ball and leave your galaxy entirely.)  Meanwhile Guy #3 enters the scene.  Yes, he may be a GREAT guy, but if you make it all the way to date #3 with Guy #1…guys 2 and 3 are usually left in the dust.  (Are you still with me?…or are you lost?)

Of course with this post, I’m not advocating you take back the asshole who cheated on you with the 21 year old hairdresser…

Or the real estate investor in Vail who dumped you for his ex-girlfriend…

Or the short Boulder guy who stood you up for the Red Rocks concert…

But maybe, you should give certain “non-flames” a “second chance.”  You never know…you might make it to the third date with one of those lucky fellas.

To All the Guys I’ve Loved (Not Really) Before…..Surprise, You Have New Names

What’s in a Name?  Judging by my long list…a heck of a lot.  And I’m not talking about my own name…I’m referring to the laundry list of guys I’ve dated the last six months.  You know…the list that comprises of “at-first” seemingly normal men – then turns into a roll call of “what was I thinking” men.

First and foremost…I must apologize for being AWOL on my own blog the last week and a half.  Sometimes I do not control my life…instead my allergies, job demands, mediocre dates, snow skiing obsession, and grocery store visits run full throttle and take over.  And secondly, I apologize for writing a blog post somewhat inspired by Willie Nelson and Julio Iglesias

So….what’s in a name?  Evidently A LOT if I look at the string of recent Denver dudes who have recently “tolerated,” or been “graced by my presence.”   Some of my favorites….

Metrosexual Mark – Wore more designer clothes than George Michael and George Clooney combined.

Ivy League Cowboy – Harvard grad who worked on a dude ranch…I hope the horses appreciated his degree.

Gaydaddy.com – Had perfect hair…and a perfect son.  Secretly wondered if he should move to San Fran. Too too feminine.

Transitional Man – Moving from Morrison to downtown Denver…quickly turned into “Sent me an email asking for a 3^rd chance,” then “Stood me up” Man.  LOSER!

Mr. Gold Chain – Sporting ugly, thick gold chain all night…Possible Jersey Shore wannabe.

Mr. NYU – Became snotty when I honesty admitted I did not know the NYU mascot.  (Turns out it’s the Violet…HOW LAME!)

Scooter Guy – Showed up to my house on a scooter for our date.  Then told me he stopped at REI  on the way to buy a sweater because he was so cold.

Bipolar Boy – Found the meds in the medicine closet when I was snooping around for dental floss.

Bipolar Boy #2 – What are the chances?  Learned my lesson the first time…so BYE BYE!

Nutty Professor – Was actually writing a research paper on crazy baseball fans.  Glad our tax dollars are hard at work.

Asshole Andy – Basically he stood me up on my birthday.  Yes, this is his REAL name.

Overbite Boy – Need I say more?

Belgium Boy – Sexy accent, but ended up being OCD about money and investments.  He literally asked me if he should buy another oil well or finally furnish his empty condo????

No Job Bob – Felt bad for the guy (we’ve all been there)…but probably not the best time to be searching for Mrs. Right.

Boulder Brent – Obsessed with Boulder in every shape or form…thought of it more as a utopia than just a bunch of rich people living in a bubble.

Barenaked Brian – Decided he would shed most of his clothes off in 3.2 seconds with no warning to moi – for a moment I thought I was in a Sex and the City episode.

At least this list – is long and distinguished.  And it’s growing by the week.  I wonder what they say about me?  Hmmmmm…..

Exhausted from Pimpin’ Myself Out

You’ve heard the expression, “searching for a job…is like a full-time job.”  Well, lately I‘ve been thinking, “searching for a man is like an overtime job with no benefits.” (free dinners don’t count)

I represent the NEW type of woman in this decade….the frazzled 30-year old single woman, able to single-handedly work full-time, drive home like a crazy woman dodging police officers, catch up on obligatory family phone calls, scarf down some food, walk the dog….then transform myself from working gal to “may get lucky” girl.

Oh, the agony.  And the exhaustion.  Truth be told, I’m tired of pimpin’ myself out in the name of dating!  It’s time for someone else to wear high heels for a change.

First — the prep work. I “ain’t” no cover girl…but come on…this “beautification process” requires time and energy!….At least 30 dedicated minutes — of me juggling a flat iron, bronzer, hairspray, my latest and greatest makeup from Sephora…and I haven’t even opened my closet door YET.  And let’s not forget about the times when I forget to re-apply deodorant…and find myself driving back home…wasting another precious seven minutes, then realizing I misplaced my earrings.  I swear, if I could take all the hours I have “prepped” for dates, I could have conquered the Boston marathon by now.

Second — the date.  For those of you NOT dating, imagine a never-ending sales call…with rotating characters.  My friend Miranda decided to take a break from dating on the grounds of…“I can’t tell my life story AGAIN to anyone else!”   I get it.  It’s exhausting rehashing my past…again and again.  I start repeating myself…as my eyes glaze over…losing track of WHAT I’ve said…and to WHO.  There’s a popular expression, “everyone has a story.”  Well, I’m pretty sick of sharing mine.  Unlike a children’s book, I can’t keep reading my story over and over.  If I have to “tell my story” one more time, I may just start making crap up and and call it a novella.

I’ve thought about making a flow chart – or a power point presentation – complete with the U.S. map and important decades.  Perhaps a whopping big timeline to pass out to my dates?  I can note “life stages” in green, “ex-boyfriends” in red, and “career highlights” in orange.  Instead of looking at the menu, my date can just read my timeline.  If he’s interested, he can stick around – if not – I won’t have to waste 1.5 hours making giddy yet intelligent small-talk.

And third — the goodbye. This is the MOST mentally exhausting part of the evening. I’m standing at a fork in the road.  I either – A. Obsess about HOW to blow the guy off quickly and painlessly while running to my car – OR – B. Anxiously wonder if he will ask me out again – because he fulfills 9 out of my 10 requirements and I secretly dig him.  Such pressure either way!

Then the cycle starts ALL OVER — as soon as the next evening.  Ouch.  It gets worse when you realize you only have 6 hours of shut-eye to prepare.

Yes, I know dating is a “numbers game.”  But eventually,  I’ll start billing my dates for overtime.  All this “pimpin myself out” is costly and timely.  And unfortunately, refunds don’t exist.

Well, gotta run and go plug in my curlers… only 45 minutes til my suitor arrives…and I still have to vacuum and floss.

After a night of "pimpin myself out"

Profile Pic Pitfalls…What NEVER to Post Online!

Often times, we only have one shot to make a good impression. Whether it’s in person – OR in the virtual world of online dating.  It’s human nature to quickly judge based on appearance.  We can’t fight it…nor can we hide it.

And truth be told, I am BEFUDDLED after perusing the pictures some Denver men choose for their online dating profiles.  It’s as if their buddies secretly logged in to their eharmony and match.com accounts and played a cruel joke…posting a plethora of the WORST, most dorky, unflattering mug shots…borderline…blackmail material.

Some of my favorite RECENT “jaw-on-floor” findings include:

10.  guy riding a donkey wearing a white “wife beater” circa 1992 (I felt sorry for the donkey and almost called PETA.)

9.  smiling dude sitting in monster truck with gun rack mounted right behind his head (I bet you voted for Obama, right?)

8.  anything that looks like it came from “Glamour Shots” in the mall! (Does that place even exist anymore?)

7.  guy surrounded by his nieces and nephews to illustrate he “likes kids” (No, really you just look creepy.)

6.  man dancing at a wedding with his poor date’s eyes “blacked out” (As if that conceals your ex-girlfriend’s or ex-wife’s identity)

5.  guy wearing an earring of any sort!  (Soooo Kirk Cameron and “Charles in Charge!”)

4.  shirtless man covered in face and body paint standing outside Invesco Field displaying Bronco pride (You need to head to the gym after the game.  And that wig isn’t helping either.)

3.  dude dressed up as woman for “Halloween” (Which team are you batting on here?)

2.  guy wearing spandex (ONLY acceptable if you’re on a bike!)

And the BEST/WORST of all:

1.  man dressed in camouflage proudly holding up the deer he just shot and killed with his buddies (This isn’t the NRA website mister.)

It’s scary to think these photos represent the “best” these men have to offer.  If these are the “good pictures,” what about the “bad ones?”

Yep, the old saying goes, “a picture is worth a thousand words.”  In this case, though, I’m downright speechless.  Mum’s the word.

Top 10 WORST Emails from Guys on Match.com

Let’s face it – truth is always stranger than fiction.  So, I decided to compile a list of my favorite emails from Denver men on match.com.  These are ACTUAL quotes…served up straight.   And yes ladies, these men are walking the streets of the mile high city.  Try not to fight over them.

10.  Annie is my favorite play on Broadway.   (You already sound like a child molester.)

9.  (from an old 52 year old dude) Did you know that Frances Folsom Cleveland married President Grover Cleveland when she was 21 and he 49?  They had a beautiful White House wedding and it was the cheer of the nation back then.  (Good to know since I wasn’t paying attention in Mrs. Clark’s 8th grade U.S. History class.)

8.  So I’ll get right to it — want to grab a beer?  Nome of that “coors light” shit though, a real beer.  (What, like a PBR?  Or a Natural Light?)

7.  I have a picture of Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt on my wall by my work-desk. (Are you flippin’ kidding me???!!!) When I look at their picture, I wonder. When I think of them, I see the idea of “humanitarianism.”  We often think of actors as just actors or actresses … but really they are an expression of our best and worse selves. In Harrison Ford, I see the patriot; In Mel Gibson, I see the neurotic; In Nicole Kidman, I see the crusader, and in Demi Moore, I see the iconoclast. What about you? What do you see about the world in certain actor or actresses?  (Dude, in your profile pic…I see “America’s Most Wanted” meets “Jersey Shore.”)

6.  (from an asian man) I can tell that you’re the type to primarily date cauc-ASIANS b/c you fear that you wont find an Asian that’s taller than you? I have to admit, most are midgets. (Wow, if you were a white man, you would be called a racist! BTW..I’m turning you into the “Little People of America Association.’”)

5.  Hey sexy, how was your Monday? I have seen dozens and dozens of women on here and you are far and away one of the hottest ones. (My Monday was great until you emailed me.  Don’t ruin my Tuesday please.)

4. Wud up? (Your vocabulary skills clearly scream master’s degree.)

3.  That’s what I am like: a heart of compassion – wanting to heal the world and make it a better place. I don’t just want to live; I want to make a difference. All while having fun, smelling the roses … wanting it all… (Do you work for Hallmark?  If not I hear Dairy Queen is hiring.)

2.  I work for a small up-and-coming terrorist organization in the marketing department. We’re doing great in Wyoming, but we have big hopes and dreams and want to start making a splash on the international circuit. As you can imagine, image is everything with terrorists. So I was thinking about doing a marketing campaign on cable TV, like CNN or maybe the home shopping network, can you help me out? (No, but maybe Suzanne Somers can – or Chuck Norris?  Perhaps Sarah Palin when she’s done with her book tour?)

1.  My American Dream includes a real life size action and full-of-life Barbie… and you fit the description. (Sorry Ken, get lost.  I hear Skipper is single though.)

Feel free to share some of your best and worst…

Writing my Match.com Dissertation

Following “Big Decision for the New Gal in Town….”    I attacked my match.com profile with the exuberation of a teenage girl shopping for her first prom dress combined with the writing expertise of an Oxford english PhD student composing a dissertation.  This profile HAD to transcend “good”….In southern terms, my mission was to “git ‘er done.” My pale tulle pink manicured fingers started moving at warp speed as I chugged a vodka/cranberry (with extra lime) and set out on my match.com man-finding mission.  The words transcended out of my blonde brain into seamless comedic prose on a computer screen.  Glancing at my pictures, I made sure to include a wide assortment…close-ups, body shots, me chillin’ on beach chair (bloody mary in hand), moi hiking a 14-er (a must for Denver, Colorado men).  After all – I was well-rounded woman, and wanted to secure it was obvious I could tackle outdoor activities in a single bound.  I even threw in a photo of my lovely pooch…to prove I could live in peaceful harmony with dog hair…

I typed with a vengeance….the desk light glowing in my corner living room office.  If only the neighbors in ritzy Cherry Creek knew little ole’ Leaza was on the brink of something big…something that could change her life — and hopefully someone else’s…completely.  If anything, this would at least provide hours of free entertainment giggling with girlfriends.  My mouth salivated at the thought of laughing hysterically, comparing horror online dating stories and trying overzealously to outdo each other.  Pathetic, yes.

An hour into my pulitzer prize winning challenge, I stared at the giant icon labeled “Profile Complete.”  This was THE moment.  The moment where my words…and my pictures….transmitted themselves to possibly hundreds of available men in the Denver/Boulder area.  I imagined myself…Leaza…as a mass blonde mailing…except instead of ending up in an outdoor mailbox, I would land in someone’s virtual one.  I felt as if I was taking a leap of faith….  I giddily scanned my profile for any last minute changes…exhaled, “What the hell?” — then cautiously moved my mouse over “Profile Complete.”  Folks…it was time to start this mission.  I prepared for the adventure…and clicked…sending my profile to the gods at match.com.  I prayed for Zeus to intercede, quickly wondering if I would land in heaven, hell, or god-forbid, gulp, limbo.

Big Decision for the New Gal in Town…

Being the brand spankin’ new kid in D-town (Denver), I’d thought I’d give online dating a shot.  So, on a whim, armed with my credit card digits – a plethora of recent party-girl pics – and multiple images of me conquering the great outdoors, I logged on to several of (what I call) the “me-bay” sites.  I felt perfectly fine to take ownership of my singledom and market myself to the millions of morons, mullets, macho-men, and Mr. Rights living in the Denver demographics in hopes of finding one decent dude or hot “dudley do-right.”   After all, I’m a hot commodity, so why not market to the masses and put U.S. capitalism to work, right?  I remembered the good ole’ lesson of supply and demand from 8th grade economics.  Limited supply of awesome, available women (i.e. ME) equates to high demand from rich, hot, down-to-earth bachelors (i.e. THEM).  Throw in a ski condo, some fine wine, a labrador mutt who adores hiking…and the deal becomes even better, sweeter, and BEYOND palatable…

Which online dating site would I choose?  Hmmmm..did I prefer the open “card catalog” approach of match.com…or the “secret ballot” style of e-harmony?  For one brief moment I was sold on eHolyHell.com (a.k.a. eharmony), but ultimately decided those commercials were too darn cheesy for moi to appear during future primetime TV lineups (if AND when I did meet Mr. Hot-Dudley-do-right).   Besides, I always wondered….where were the commercials portraying the “not-so-cute” people?  Those couples seemed to be missing from the airwaves, as if some rich white old/fat/bald guy in an eharmony sterile board room ironically instilled a “no fat/boring/ugly person rule.”   Being a dewey decimal girl at heart (and secretly thinking the card catalog approach would work in my favor), I flippantly decided on the match.com 90-day subscription, figuring that would equal more than enough minutes for all the fab singular D-town dudes to fawn at me virtually, in hopes of rubbing knees with me physically.  I was salivating at the anticipation of my first wink, that first email…before I even clicked on the “new user” icon.  This my friends….was gonna be fun.