The End, my friends?

I must say farewell my friends.

Although I thought that we would traverse many humorous roads, at this particular moment it looks like I am off the dating market and exclusively dating one person. Which means that all you are going to hear about is rainbows and butterflies, and that isn't very interesting.

I want to thank everyone who has been reading and following alone this zany trail- it's meant a lot to me.

It looks like the magic is there with William. I am currently devoted, so devoted that I finally realized that I couldn't compromise our relationship by posting private information to the world.

On a final note, I want to encourage everyone to explore that great big world of people out there. You never know who you will meet, what experiences you will have, and what will ultimately shape you. I've learned so much in the past few years in the DC market. William caught me entirely by surprise and yes, I am experiencing every cliche in the book right now. So with a heavy heart I bid farewell, and who knows, I may be back soon. That's the way love goes.

Balls

My friends I ask you:


What happened to men with balls? Do we have to look for them in museums? Where can we find them-Mars? Even my current mania, William, told me that he would have "never asked me out at a bar." Why is that? Why can't a man who is attracted to a woman simply walk up to her and say "Hi?" If I can do that, a man can do that. 


Today I encountered one of these strange beings - a man with balls. I was walking back to work (looking hungover as hell) when one of the security guards stopped me and remarked that he "saw me come into work every day, and just had to tell me that I had a beautiful smile and was one of the prettiest women at this workplace." I was stunned - this had happened before (See "Can I Be on Your Blog"?) but this just blew me away. He gave me his card and said, for a rainy day, and if you ever stop seeing that guy. Bam. Done and done. Okay, so I might never call him, but I couldn't stop smiling the rest of the day. See guys? Just say hi. It really works. "Hi." You never know what could happen. 

Dating, brought to you by Myers-Briggs

Anyone who knows me knows that I swear by Myers-Briggs. In the off chance that you never got your isht together, you can take the test here: http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/JTypes2.asp. I recommend taking it three times to see what you repeatedly get (it is normal to get different types each time, but you will see a pattern of your functions emerge.) This site also has wonderful compatibility information. For those of you who haven't gotten a fake nerd degree in psychology, MB uses the major personality functions: Extroverted/Introverted, Intuitive/Sensing, Thinking/Feeling, and Judging/Perceiving. The combination of these separate types result in 16 MB types. This is not astrology or kabbalah or whatzitnot. This is what I like to call persuasive soft science. 


I can hear the skeptics now. Dating by personality? My complex, inexplicable, undefinable, and truly unique persona narrowed down to four letters? 1. Get over yourself. 2. Stick around. Myers Briggs is actually a very useful, practical, and powerful tool in understanding yourself and the people around you. Knowing how people absorb the world, process information, register feelings, and express themselves can empower you in your decision-making abilities. For example, my last relationship was with an INTP. When we broke up and I finally gained clarity about that situation, I remembered that many of my frustrations and disappointments with that relationship stemmed from the way an INTP (The Thinker) and an ENFP (The Inspirer) (my MB personality) interacted. For example, an ENFP expects that his or her partner will know instinctively how to act and express themselves when it comes to his or her feelings; an INTP, on the other hand, has difficulty being naturally tuned into others' external emotional desires because of his or her focus on the inner workings of the relationship. 


To bring it back realtime, I am now currently dating an ISTJ (William)- the very last personality type I ever thought I would be having a good time with. The ISTJ is the "Duty-Fulfiller"- a person who finds happiness by figuring out what needs to be done for others. This type also respects rules and traditions. Translation: boring!!! Was this really what I needed after my less then starry INTP relationship? Surely I should be going for the more daredevil and stylish ESTP, or the sensual and artistic ESFP. And then strangely, around the fifth date with William, I learned a very important lesson: although we are constantly listing our own baller qualities as those we would like to have in our partners, it is the qualities that we lack that can often intrigue us. His steadfastness and focus to understand me, coupled with a traditional, romantic dating style, and a love to work with his hands, is foreign to me, and thus- exciting. Booya. 


On a final note, it is important to remember that any two MB personalities are compatible as long as they are fully developed in most of their functions (we use all eight of the functions, just four in a more dominant way). The problem lies when your partner's less developed functions conflict with your less developed functions (such as one partner who has difficulty expressing emotion and another partner who struggles with intuiting the other's feelings). The good news is that dating or being in a relationship with people of diverse personality types builds and strengthens the functions that you do not have- which end up making you a more suitable candidate for someone who has matured in their personality. 


So can an ISTJ and ENFP have a good first kiss (it's the real issue, right?) Judging from the last date, it looks like anything's possible. 

A Civil Action

Everyone knows that there is no good way to break up. There's just no good way to tell someone you are sick of them/ready to move on/etc. or hear such things being uttered to you. 


However, friends now inform me that there is a good way to break up a "dating relationship." A dating relationship can exist anywhere from two dates until six dates. (After six dates, if you are aren't sure you want to be in a relationship with person, you have issues with co-dependency or commitment, and I would recommend a self-help book.) Now, what is the proper protocol concerning a dating relationship? I conducted a brief informal survey and find that the below is actually appreciated by your date-ee (See Adam from other entries). 

• After a first date: a brief text informing datee that you are 'busy'/going out of town for a while/want to just stay friends 
• After two dates: a longer text mentioning any of the above, with an added "it was nice to meet you"
• After three dates: An email outlining very briefly and in the least harsh way possible why you are better off "friends." This can include white lies. Examples that I've used include "I'm having some issues with an ex right now" or "I'm not ready for a relationship" or finally, "I think that you need someone who is more ______ ."(insert adjective.
• After four dates: An email if you're shy; a brief telephone call outlining the above can also suffice. Remember that the longer you've been dating, the better your reasons need to be (lace them with sugar) for not seeing this person again.
• After five dates: Call them up and give them a damn good reason. If you can't think of one then you need to come up with a really good one-the ex thing usually works; getting back together with whoever works; say that you are anti-marriage; anti-relationship; celibate; whatever. 
• After six dates: you are breaking up, in which case there is really not a good way to break up (see above). 

Utilizing these steps, you can have a civil break-up. Friends have reported staying friends with people they have dated; passing them on to other friends (one woman's junk is another woman's treasure); or at least ending things with some dignity. And as Adam told me later, he both respected and appreciated that we took the time to say bye, wish each other luck, and agree that we were both pretty freakin' awesome people. 

Will Will Kiss?

Am I missing something? 


Another perfect, marathon date with William where he surprised me with tickets to Cirque de Soleil and my favorite crunchy munchy snack - Goldfish (which he remembered from our first date, sharp memory!) Dinner at Bistro du Coin followed (I recommend the La Traditionelle Mouclade des Charentes, which are cooked in a delicate, light curry) and accompanied by extra crispy french fries; and a final nightcap and rich pecan pie at Kramers & Afterwords for dessert. Around 2:30 AM, I was smitten. Was this guy for real? An opener of car doors, put together, generous, accommodating, humorous, and close to his family. SO naturally all I could think was: when is this guy going to kiss me? 


HE DIDN'T. Three dates in, and I had zero idea whether we had the kiss chemistry or kiss collision. I was torn between wondering whether this guy had zero game or whether he wanted to be totally in control of the situation. 


What am I doing wrong here? The video below I think summarizes the whole situation rather nicely (minus the lobster.) 

Hooker, Hook-Up, or Heartbreak? Choose Your Own Adventure!

The scenario: An ex of approximately four months calls you up. You talk about work. You talk about weather. Then, all of a sudden, you ex is becoming charming. He wants to fly you out to the West Coast. Buy you dinner(s). Take you to Fisherman's Wharf. Send you flowers. Make it rain. Subtext: I am willing to ship you over 3,000 miles for the most expensive booty call of my life. 


If you accept, you are:


A. A Hooker, because you really want to visit the Golden Gate City on zero dollars. 
B. Hooking Up, like two mature, consensual adults. 
C. Accepting an all-expenses paid trip to Heartbreak. 


Choose your own adventure. 

Margarita Monday

Regrettably intoxicated blogging alert: it has been three days and no call. I think it is time to throw by wayside and continue adventure into unknown. Like I reiterate - eggs in different pies.


PS: Guapos is the best drunk food. Ask for the spicy green salsa. Lethal margaritasss.


Sarah (BFF) on call:  I think he likes u, but 1. he's too old to know the 2011 dating rules of engagement, or 2. he's kind of controlling in making every communication on his own terms, knowing that you're probably waiting so, i say u pick another proverbial fish out of the vast ocean that is ok cupid. 

Thanks Ssarah. 

The Playbook

The straightest gay man ever. I present to you Neil Patrick Harris/Barney Stinson. 

Throw a Girl a Bone!

Friday night I went on what I like to term a "traditional, Southern-style" second date with William. We're talking the works: getting picked up, valet parking, perfect dinner at Rasika, dessert at Coco Sala, ride home. Yes, ladies, this man considered this standard protocol. I restrained myself at multiple moments from singing Put A Ring On It. [PS: GOOD LORD, if you go to Rasika, PROMISE me that you will get the Palak Chaat. JUST PROMISE ME.]


[On an aside, I had a very interesting conversation with one of my co-workers last week. He told me that until the age of 29/30, women held all the dating cards in their hands; and upon turning 31, they ceded these cards to men for the duration of their lives. Myself began to protesteth, but then it hit me: I had three, maybe four years left if I was serious about becoming a Mrs. Someone. Right now, it felt as though the dating world was at my immaculately-painted fingernails, but would this dinner-paved, city-glow foray last forever? Friends tell me: no. Thus, I must adjust my radar. I must not turn dating into some frivolity, but rather a serious search for "the one."] 


William is the total package so far. While I also said this about Adam, I will inform you that I discovered his propensity to be manorexic, and I took a hatchet to that budding relationship pronto. Now, every person certainly has their flaws. I advise all of you to take out a sheet of paper and make two columns. Label one column "Flaws I Can Live With" and term the other column "Flaws that I Cannot Live With." This is a helpful exercise in coming to terms with reality. 


Which brings me back to William, who has kindly disclosed to me two of his relationship flaws. The first, is that he lacks the connection between feelings and vocalization of emotion (Ehh). Second-he operates very, very slowly. In the dating world, paint dries faster than William making a move. Neither of these seemed a dealbreaker in my eyes (right? I mean, unfounded arrogance or boring rank a lot higher on my list.) 


Back to my fancy Friday night. By the entree, I realized that William's personality was a counterweight to own, extroverted openness. The more he instituted patience and retracted from impulsive action, the more I felt like a CRAZY WOMAN begging for scraps. Example: around 11 P.M., things were proceeding without a hitch. Dinner was over. Dessert was over. Drinks had been drunk. I was staring into his dark, deep eyes, listening to him wax on about something that displayed his emotional depth. The female part of brain was thinking: this is the part in the movie where William kisses me. And the opportunity was presenting itself. In fact, it continued to presented itself almost four times (not that anyone is counting) at CoCo Sala, and again at the end of the night. It was getting ridiculous. I was crushing hardcore on this guy, and he seemed perfectly content to not lay a finger on me. And after a quick hug (WTF) and promise to call me, I was left with slight confusion and a feeling that I am not sure I have experienced in a long time: yearning. 


So friends, if William doesn't kiss me on the third date, is it over? Is this normal? Maybe he hates kissing? Unlikely. Does he want to kiss me? Maybe. Doesn't he want me to want him to kiss me? Okay. I know what you're saying. I'll take your advice and stop staring at my phone, waiting for him to call me. But I can't make any promises about the daydreaming. 

Ridiculously Romantic

Every once in a while, you listen to a song about "love," and you get ridiculously excited/happy/sad all at the same time about ... the prospect of future love. At work today, I nearly a shed a tear at 3:15 when the strings come in. It's okay folks, embrace the inner romantic. 

The 3-Day Rule Dies, Kicking and Screaming

I ask you women out there: when was the last time a guy actually called you? Out of the profusion of dates that I have been on in the last three years, I can count on one hand the number of men who have actually called to set-up a date (or follow-up for the second one). In our world of constant communication, texting/emailing/gchatting just seems easier for setting up the tedious logistics of where/when/how. In fact, I myself am guilty of the "over-texting" syndrome that occurs when you are first dating someone new- you mindlessly textflirt for days on end before you develop a case of carpel-tunnel in your fingers. 


Well, I have been thrown a curveball. I had a guy actually call me, set up a date, and 24 hour later has yet to text me. In past experiences, by the afternoon of the day after a first date, I receive a "Hey, I had a great time last night. Hope you're doing well" text message, and you confidently reply, now sure of the mutual attraction. This explains why right now, I am not anxious, but am awaiting his call in suspense. Will he call me tonight? Tomorrow night? Will he actually do the unthinkable: follow the three day rule, that specter of traditional, past dating? 


I haven't experienced the suspense after the first date in a long time- maybe this guy knows what he's doing. Go back in dating time to move her heart forward in ours. 

Diversify Your Portfolio

In this session, I hope to emphasize that diversity of dating is the only way to gain perspective on what you want. Although we all wish to jump off the dating treadmill and walk hand-in-hand with that one special person, I insist that you date three people at a time until you are monogamous with one (this is direct from Patti Stanger, who knows what she's talking about). 


Let's use anecdotal evidence.


You are dating someone. Things are going well. Then all of a sudden, you start questioning the mechanics/process/picky traits/etc. of said person. What would actually help this situation? What always helps us, boys and girls. Comparison. As human beings, we are not so enlightened as to know what is best for us (this is why we have people called friends who call us on our bull****). We are buoyed by the winds of chemistry, hormones, and millions of years of evolution. We need simplified models. Exhibit A or Exhibit B. Hot or Not. Iphone or Blackberry. Pizza or Pad Thai. Okay, you get my point. 


There is a caveat: we must curb our range of choices. Date too many exhibits, and our simple minds will become flustered and overwhelmed by choices. That is why three is the perfect number. Three allows both variety and a chance to actually have a conversation with the exhibit. Three also allows for elimination without annihilation. 


A variation of diversifying your portfolio is amping up your social life. DO NOT, and I am serious about this, DO NOT begin cancelling activities with friends, co-workers, and colleagues. Staying actively busy is one of the five pillars to an overall successful dating life. It allows you to continue to meet new people and achieve a sense of independence and liberation about your identity. When you fall off the face of the planet, you must humbly scratch your way back to your friends when your dopamine induced relationship hits the ****fan. 


Remember, diversifying your portfolio spreads the risk among various companies. And after time, you can (with some clarity) judge which stocks have a positive, upward trend. And that's when you can invest, baby, invest. 

Fight or Flight Instincts

After a wonderful crawfish pasta at The Cajun Experience, surrounded by friends and current flavor of the month Adam, I felt residual instincts surface for the first time. Fellow date-aficionados, you know this feeling. You finally meet someone and the world seems fresh, like the new car smell of a 2011 Aston Martin Virage Coupe. Everything is going well, all your friends like him, and every song relates to your dopamine-epinephrine-induced happiness.

And then, duh-duh-duh- something happens. You-FREAK-OUT. Really? Are you moving too fast? Are you sending the right signals? Wrong signals? Are you going to wake up tomorrow and find yourself in a relationship? Are you ready for a relationship? Didn't you tell yourself you would wait a significant amount of time until you got back into a serious relationship? Do you really want a relationship or are your hormones just screwy? Should you start dating around, spreading the risk? Suddenly, you start hunting for flaws--even small, tiny ones. Now you're in your head way too much and overthinking every single hang-out/dinner/experience, while simultaneously telling yourself to just "go with the flow" and "enjoy the moment." You tell yourself to take it slow, but it looks like you are indeed at a critical stage of the dating game, where in a few weeks, pivotal decisions will most likely have to be made.

And the question remains, while the exit sign is still lit, do you get the heck outta dodge?

Watch your Back

This has nothing to do with dating, but my friend threw her back out while putting on her underwear.

"Can I Be On Your Blog?"

In every woman's life, there is a moment where you think: would a guy ask me out if he saw me in zero make-up, sweatpants, and hair in a yogi-styled bun on the top of my head?


Well today I am proud to report to you that indeed, a man can and even does do such a thing.


The setting: Politics & Prose, a quaint bookstore located in NW DC, outfitted with a cozy cafe in its downstairs area. Recommended for a laid-back Sunday-date.


The players: My friend Eve from out of town and myself, chitchatting and catching up on life, love, metaphysics. It is important at this point in the story to remind you that I had literally rolled out of the couch and put on the cleanest thing off the bedroom floor. 


After an hour of discussion, Eve and I got up to leave. While she was using the bathroom, a kind, bearded fellow approaches me. 


-Hi- he said, a little breathy. 
-Um, hi. 
-So, I couldn't help but overhearing, that, well, you really like dating. You and your friend are really cool. (Still breathy.)
(At this point, you could cut the awkward tension with a whisk.)
-Well, I actually enjoy dispensing dating and restaurant advice through the lens of my own comedic experiences.
-Oh.
(A few seconds go by.)
-Well, can I be on your blog? 
-What? You mean follow it? Sure.
-No, well, I mean could we go on a date and then you blog about it?
(??????? goes my mind. I was caught between surprise that I was being asked out in a traditional way/respect that he approached me/flattery that I was being asked out in gray sweatpants/then uber-weirdness about someone wanting to be blogged about.)
-Well, I replied hastily, I'm actually seeing someone right now. (Boys and girls, this is the best line to bestow when rejecting a human being. It doesn't matter whether it's true. It doesn't matter whether it's false. It is a line of beauty.)
-Oh...that's too bad, he said. 


(At this moment, Eve emerges from the bathroom.)


Turning slightly, he looks at her.


-So what about your friend? 

Conflicts

Do you judge someone from their public forum content?

This is a new quandry. At my fingertips I have over a hundred blogs where I can hear Adam's opinions on everything from politics to international travel. But do I want to? Should I filter through podcasts until I stumble upon a dealbreaker, or actually take a chance that traditional dating will triumph? In this era of complete dissemination of personal information, is there really any mystery left in the prelude to a relationship? Is it even really fair to come into a date armed with arsenal of "How could you say..." "Do you really believe ...?" In all fairness, I should divulge the fact that I myself am blogging about him-that would be proper etiquette, right? Or no, should I veil my own secrets and guilty blogging desires, until we're seriously involved? After all, I have taken stringent steps to screen my blog from his eyes (as in giving my friends the talk). But the question remains: do I ever let him know that I have unfettered access to his thoughts and words? If you put your life out there is it really private at all?


The problem is, I think I like this guy. I'm trying to be cautious because we've all been here before, and you've gotta reel in the dopamine/imagination/inner romantic that keeps annoyingly surfacing when you're actually vibing with someone new. So the urge to stalk the hell out of him randomly will consume me, and only a firm self-control and belief that drawing out this period is worth it curbs that impulse. But in order for us to move forward, honesty is probably best in all things (in medium doses, of course). So maybe, just maybe, after loosening him up after a few glasses of vino at Zengo (a Chinatown favorite, check out the Latin-Japanese fusion tapas) I could reveal my own dark secret? Which means that in the future, Adam could be reading this right now. Err, well, hello there Adam- and welcome. Hope your day's going well. 

Is this ACTUALLY happening? Technology collides with Dating?

It turns out that Adam, the new flavor of the week, who I was (and still am) pretty excited about, HAS. A. BLOG. 


And my friends, this isn't just any blog. This is a collaborative, podcasted, twitter-tastic blog. You can find it here: The DC AM. From what I've heard so far, its a bunch of guys talking about life/sex/drinking/sports over whiskey. 


Now, some of you are saying, so what? This isn't a big deal. Everyone has a blog. 


Yes, until you hear the person you're dating talking about YOUR DATE on a podcast! I was...stunned. The good news was, it looked like we were on the same page. It was still bizarre. Here is his exact description of the date at 6:58 under "The McRib" episode. Date talks about date. So yes, it looks like I am now blogging about my date podcasting on his blog about our date, which I initially blogged a few days ago. 


Go figure. 


At least now, I am armed and prepared for the next date. Thank you, Facebook. 

The Bloody Foot [Halloween Episode]

If you've never had a bloody foot on a date, then you haven't really lived.

The sequence of events? It all started innocent enough-dinner, drinks, good vibes- and then (completely incomprehensible) we went to Mad Hatter for a little dancing to end the night. Now, for any of you who have ventured into Mad Hatter on a Friday night, you know that creating a fire hazard is not something the owners are worried about. So my date and I squeeze past our fellow DC brethren and try to carve out our little inch of the dance floor. Just as things are getting groovy, I feel a STAKE come down on my toes. A flash of stiletto disappeared, and then I feel something sticky and wet under my foot. Suddenly, I see a veritable pool of blood spreading quickly out from my foot. For a moment I can't quite comprehend: am I actually bleeding on the dance floor? It was like a bad horror movie. I turn to my date and he becomes the definition of competent, leading us out of the hordes of people. As I walk, I see a trail of smeared blood in our wake.

Only one fact salvaged this night: the fact that my date was conveniently a doctor. This was his moment, his chance to shine in his element. Swift Bollywood action entailed: a cab, first aid kit, sober instructions, and follow-up procedures.

Moral of the Story: Blood on a first date is not an instant dealbreaker.
Corollary Moral: Trauma unites the human race. Embrace joint traumatic incidents.

The Marathon Date: Breaking My Own Rules

Once in a blue moon, and after one too many drinks, a girl breaks her own rules. This is likely to happen when you are on a really great date. 


Broken Rules of this Past Date with Adam:

1. I went over the 3 1/2 hour maximum - in fact the date lasted a good six hours.
2. The first kiss happened halfway through the first date (though on a positive note, that means we avoided the awkward end of the night moment). 
3. We started making future plans (aka restaurants/activities we should try). 
4. Ex-talk (although, five hours in, this is bound to come up). 
5. Paying for stuff. Really? I have always told you all that on the first date, they must treat YOU!  
6. Going over the 3 drink limit. 
7. Acting SUPER interested...maybe too interested? Yikes. 
8. Way too much first date kiss action. You're supposed to play a little hard to get, right? 

We shall see what I reap from sowing a harvest of bad decisions! Will keep you posted on Adam (See post below: "So, we're all on OkCupid?") 

Don't Fake It!

Be a Part of Cosmo's International "Don't Fake It" Day!

Yes boys, this means you too!

"So, we're all on OkCupid?!?"

EPIC FRIDAY.

I hate to admit it, but it looks like OKCupid shot its arrow of fun into my life pretty skillfully.

Using the Okcupid Locals app, a cute guy and I agreed to meet at one of my favorite happy hour singles spots, Dirty Martini. It was my very first use of the app and I was hesitant, but what the heck live a little.

-I get to Dirty Martini. Commence talking with cute guy [Greg]. Cute guy's friends are nearby. They say hi. I say hi. They seem pretty normal.
-Thirty minutes later, my also cute girlfriends show up. The whole lot of us decide to get a table.
-During dinner, we (there are six of us) all have a "Wait....we're all on OkCupid???" moment. Slightly awkward but hilarious moment where cute guy's friend (who is uber cute) suddenly realizes that he messaged me a few weeks ago, asking me to dinner, on OkCupid. Session commences where we pull our phones out and look at one another's profiles, and figure out why I had rejected him. Reason: bad picture.
-Two hours and three bottles of vino later (which is really quite excellent here, I recommend the pinot noir), the group decides, what the hell, let's karaoke.
-We hop a cab to Muzette, located in AdMo, and spend the next two hours singing/dancing/screaming/drinking.
-Tip:  Muzette has private karaoke rooms, and a room service button for ordering drinks. Also, the remote control allows you to skip and load songs at will so you can fit a lot more into the time frame than with traditional karaoke.
-Over the course of this experience, my initial date [Greg] and I essentially pull the old switcheroo- he ends up giving his number to my friend, and his friend [Adam] (the one I rejected on OKC originally, you following all this?) and I exchange numbers. You might think this was awkward, but it actually wasn't. This is what happens when you throw a group of young, fun, attractive professionals together who wouldn't have met otherwise except that they all are on a dating website.
-At the end of the night, we agree that this was night was the most fun we had had in a long time. And I have a lot of fun, kids, so that's actually saying a lot.

So what's next? Oh right, Adam and I are on our way to a date this week. And my friend? Also looking forward to linking up with Greg. The best part? We've actually kinda had an organic meeting, met one another's friends, and tested each other's karaoke abilities.

Not bad for an electronic cherub.

The FUTURE of Dating: Location, Location, Location

What will they think of next?

Gone are the onerous days of online dating, where you and a perfect stranger message each other until you finally agree to meet. This requires plumbing through your schedules until you coordinate the big date. And if that date blows, which unfortunately is more likely than not, it can often feel like a colossal waste of time.

No longer, my friends.

Welcome to dating based on geolocation. The catch? You need a smartphone such as the Droid or Iphone. You also must be relatively comfortable with a bunch of strangers knowing your general area. The OKCupid app (the one I use) showcases the matches in your area that are at a 70% and higher compatibility, and enables you to independently select "Let's Meet." If your match also hits "Let's Meet," then the app links you both up to message one another and plan the details. The locals feature allows you to "Set Your Broadcast," to "Let's meet for ... drinks/coffee/dinner" and then broadcasts the general area (Dupont) and your availability.

The idea is clever in that it banks on the fact that if you're already going out, there's a good chance you'd like to run into someone fun. And...to be honest...wouldn't we all? Don't we want to feel like we are organically meeting guys/girls in their natural environment?

Now, at first I was wary. This app seems sketchy and even stalkerish. The traditional messaging system at least allowed you to vet the person before you met him/her. But then I discovered that the locals system actually brings dating back around to a more traditional form of dating! You're out with friends, you see someone cute, you chat/flirt, and then within twenty or so minutes you figure whether you'd like to never see them again, see them for a night, or see them for days to come. And with the locals app, you have a powerful tool at your hands: you can meet in groups, which ups the numbers and potential matches at your disposal. We're talking both convenience and efficiency, wrapped into one.

It looks like dating on crack as arrived. And it's just a free app away.

Master Flowchart Part II

Continuing on:

4. The four hours before the date loom. If you are a girl, you begin to rummage through your assortment of clothes and eventually determine that "nothing works." This is followed by complaining to your roommate that you need to go shopping immediately. You finally try something on but feel FAT in it- oh no! You can't be feeling fat when you meet the potential man of your dreams! You switch to something with more give (after all, you have to eat and drink, right?), but find that it just isn't as sexy. You change back into the sexier outfit. This cycle repeats until finally you get the opinion of your roommates who assure you that in fact, you do NOT look fat. You are now ready to go to Step 5. 

5. Your hair is perfectly coiffed. However, knowing that the metro will blast it into oblivion, you over-hairspray. Knowing that the stenchy metro will also strip away your perfume, and cause you to slightly sweat by the time of arrival, you attempt to safeguard by over-perfuming and over-deodorizing. Glancing at the clock, you realize that you run this mother like a swiss army watch. 

6. Now, this is a new advent in the pre-date ritual, but highly recommended if you are going on a blind date. Exactly HALF a glass of WHITE wine. Why do I say this? White does not stain your teeth, and half a glass prevents you from revealing every damn detail about yourself. This also loosens you just enough to seem calm, natural, and relaxed. You've got this. You run this mother like a swiss army watch. 

7. Brush your teeth (and then re-apply lipstick). 

8. Pick shoes according to your date's height. If he's 6'4'', strap on those stilettos and grin and bear it. If he's your height, wear flats. 

9. Adjust your Ipod to play only ENCOURAGING songs. Do not listen to "Nothing Compares to You"  by Sinead O'Connor (best version linked). Do not listen to "Bittersweet Symphony". And please, please DO NOT listen to "Cancer" by My Chemical Romance. 

I recommend a positive melody set in a major key that includes somewhat nonsensical lyrics but conveys a general hopefulness about life. Personal favorites include: Maroon Five's "Runaway" off their peppy "Hands All Over" album; the enchanting Ms. Swift's "Sparks Fly" off the triple-platinum Speak Now; and Natasha Bedingfield's "Neon Lights". These songs make you think: yes! True love is just one date away. 

And sometimes, just sometimes, it really can feel that way. 

Harold and Kumar and . . . Jane?

A contribution from a loyal follower:


Jane is under the assumption she is going out with Harold. Jane picks Harold up. 
Harold: "My cousin's going to come with us ok?" 
Jane: "I guess." 
Harold and Kumar get into the car. 
Jane realizes Harold and Kumar are baked.
Jane proceeds to babysit Harold and Kumar, watching them consume a multitude of munchies over the next few hours.
Jane never sees Harold or his cousin again. 


Moral: Don't bring your cousin on a date.
Corollary Moral: Don't get baked before a date. 


Don't get baked AND bring your cousin. 

The Master Flowchart Part I

I would like to take you on a journey with me. 


Flowchart for Dating Progression


1. See/meet a new guy online or in a bar. Said guy seems "cool" "cute" "real."


2. Said guy asks you out. You most likely agree to "drinks" or "dinner" if he's really ambitious. You tell your friends. They tell their friends. Everyone agrees that being single is "fun." 


3. The time leading up to the date involves polarizing emotions:  spiraling expectations followed subsequently by overwhelming skepticism. It is fair to say that your thoughts range from: "What if he is the one?" to "This is going to be a waste of a Thursday night." 


Based on my experience,  it is usually the latter. 

Rock Bottom

There is a universal sign that the date sucks--


You talk about the date while you are both still on the date.


(Pass the salt)


A word to the wise - do not eat at the Taste of India. 

Drinking and Dialing

I've done it. You've done it. It's not been one of our most shining moments. 

But at some point, between the "I'm only having one glass of wine" and the inevitable kamikaze shots at MIllie & Al's, your phone magicked itself out of your pocket/purse, scrolled to an ex/friend/family member/colleague/other and extracted from you a text so shameless and undignified that it could kill whatever little political ambitions you had left. 

Answer: Don't Dial: the App that prevents drinking and dialing. 

Pros: It locks down contacts for 24 hours or enables you to find a 'designated dialer' (aka friend) to enter in a password in order to unlock your phone. It works like a charm- you can neither text nor dial. 

Cons: It does not prevent that person from calling or texting YOU. In addition, if you are that obsessed and desperate to call that person, you can tap in the actual number on the keypad and your phone will call them. 

Moral of the Story: Don't memorize any phone numbers of significant others. 

Corollary Moral of the Story: I got 99 problems and drunk dialing isn't one. 

Manorexia

Girls and boys, listen up.

Manorexia is spreading in this city like a genital disease among swingers.

Example #1: At a seafood restaurant where all we had to eat were miniscule mussels, a date reportedly said "I don't eat bread." You can imagine my consternation.

Example #2: "This food is amazing!" followed by a helping of exactly one serving. Really? I proceeded to shovel down.

Moral of the Story: Unless you can share a common love of starvation, don't date a manorexic.
Corollary Moral of the Story: The manorexic will tell you things like: "I just ate," or "I'm trying to get into a more balanced lifestyle of diet and exercise." Translation: I am a manorexic.

"My Mother Would Love You"

This post is short and sweet:

Never tell a girl, after ten minutes of speaking with her, that your mother would love her. Messaging, people.

Oh, and you should definitely try the truffle cheese they keep in the back at Vinoteca.

No Reservations = Marathon First Date

Last month I ventured on a date with 6'4'' (a staggering13 inch differential) in yet another attempt at finding someone who, at the very least, I could sit still enough through the entree long enough to not conjure an emergency story to escape as early as possible. Due to my date's lack of foresight, we found ourselves waiting for 45 minutes at an adjoining bar before they even called our name. Which meant that at the moment the hostess jotted our names down, I was locked in for a good 2:50 (it actually came to over 3:15 if you include the car ride there and back). The food of course was delicious, and I personally recommend the Pearl Dive Oyster Palace  for its variety of oyster platters and po' boys, but as you will agree, good food - awkward date - reservations = marathon first date. We all love those dates where time flies and you're taking a cab in the wee hours due to the wine-induced giddiness and dopamine rush of a quality first date, but here I experienced the anti-thesis: the marathon first date.

Moral of the Story: Make reservations.
Corollary Moral of the Story: Find out whether he made reservations, and if he hasn't, take matters into your own hands and call the restaurant. Trust me, you will thank yourself later.