“My Other Half Isn’t…At A New York Hotel”

But, he could have been at a pub around the corner.

After work on Monday I decided to go for a walk around the city to clear my head and enjoy the early summer sunshine.  A friend of mine was having drinks at the London Hotel and wanted me to meet her.  To tell you the truth, it had been a miserable work day and I really wasn’t in the mood to be social.

With that, I decided to go to a pub around the corner from the London; a pub I had never been to before.   It was small with only a handful of people watching a soccer game. 

I was there for about a half an hour when a sweet gentleman asks if he can sit next to me, if he wasnt being too forward.

Now, before you read on, please go back and read the list of requirements my 18-year-old self had.

Alex, (again, names have been changed for the sake of my bank account) had short blond hair and blue eyes.  At the bar, he told me stories of his house on the beach and how he LOVED to surf. 

He was a pilot for a private jet company and traveled a great deal.

He informed me that he played the guitar and violin (even though it wasnt too well).  As a matter of fact, he was into every music genre you can think of.  I’m a self-proclaimed groupie and can’t even say that.

Anyway, from the bar we went to dinner where we discussed more about life and how too short it is to not be kind to your fellow man.  We had a short romantic walk to Port Authority where I received a heart stopping kiss.

Did I mention that he left yesterday?

Do I necessarily believe everything that he said?  Absolutely not.  If life experience has taught me anything it is that guys will say just about ANYTHING to get what they want.  It could be sex, it could be company on a date and it could just be to get  you to like them.

When he said he would keep in touch because he comes to New York a lot, I thought it was 10% true.

The reason I am sharing this, and including it on my journey for Mr. Right, is because even if I never see him again I got to have a perfect and unexpected night.

Every perfect night I’ve had in my past is always overshadowed by how it ended. 

With this, it is a really sweet story to tell and for ONCE it doesn’t end with “He turned into an asshole”.

If I ever do hear from him again I would be excited though but in the words of my coworker and friend “In dating keep things breezy and you wont get hurt…like your idol Penny Lane!”

Next stop on the “Other Half” train is Meadowlands Arena in New Jersey.  Was a potential future husband at the Bon Jovi show last night?

P.S.  I just wanted to say thank you for all the kind comments and reads.  I’m always surprised to log on to find that I’m not just talking to myself out in cyber space.  It really is greatly appreciated.  So, from the bottom of my cynical, Fort Knox heart  (haha), I thank you.

My Other Half Isn’t…In My Office

If a girl happens to fall for a guy friend, there are four stages to that relationship.

The first is the friendship stage.  Here neither one of you have any attraction to each other whatsoever.  You chat about random things and tell each other about dates that turned into disasters.  It is probably the most honest you are in any of the four stages because you have nothing to lose by being truthful.

Then something happens.  Something is said that literally makes your heart flutter.  As pathetic as it sounds, the world completely stops and you realize that you’ve fallen for your friend.  Everything normal that you guys used to do is now analyzed to the point that it makes no sense anymore.  Every word is put into a memory bank to be replayed over and over again.  The question of “do they feel the same way too”  plays over and over again in your mind.  Thats the second stage; the schoolgirl/boy stage.

Stage three happens when you both realize that you like each other and give a relationship a go.  Depending on how long you guys have liked each other, the transition could be relatively easy.  The cute little glances start, the emails that seem to give Shakespeare a run for his money begin, and the day dreams of future adventures start.  Stage three is AMAZING and makes you feel like everything in your life is this one of a kind ride.

If you’re lucky, the fourth stage is a meaningful relationship that gets you an amazing happy ending.  If you’re like me (and completely screwed in matters of the heart) the fourth stage is the awkward break up without breaking up stage.  You drift off, you spend less and less time together and you begin to convince yourself that you never really liked him in the first place.  The fourth stage is horrible for the obvious reasons but especially because this great friend that you had is now just an awkward person that you hang out with randomly.

I’ve been through each of these stages about three times in my dating career.  My most recent was a coworker of mine.  (Rule number one:  don’t date a coworker).

I started my current job in the latter part of the summer and met him on my second day.  Robert (names have been changed because the idea of getting sued doesn’t turn me on) was completely adorable but I really didn’t start to like him until around Thanksgiving; maybe even before that.

Well, once I came to that realization I became Queen of the Nerds.  The one thing I’ve noticed about myself is that when I like someone, and see them all the time, I become 10 years old.  I bump into things, I say random nonsense and it just isn’t a pretty situation.  An example of my complete lack of seducing techniques came when I walked into the kitchen with a bag of chips in my hand.  He jokingly remarked how it was rude to eat those things and not bring enough for everyone.  Well, I rambled that I got them from the machine and they cost 25 cents so they weren’t very good.  With a nervous laugh, I turned and walked right out.

Queen of the Nerds.

Stage three finally happened in early December with a walk through the city on a winter night and kiss in the park.  It was probably one of the most romantic evenings I’ve ever had to be honest.  From then on it was emails every day, teasing each other every time we saw each other around the office, and being kicked under the table during company happy hours.  I ate up every word, compliment and goofy moment that came my way.

Not everything was a romantic montage set to some overused pop song though.  I had been single for so long that I really had a problem opening up.  Fort Knox has nothing on the security system I have around my heart.  It’s awful and the more he kept trying to get to know me, the more I kept trying to get to know all about him JUST to avoid talking about myself.

Another problem was my independence.  I don’t feel the need to see a guy EVERY weekend on dates.  My way of thinking was if I saw you every day, when did I get my alone time?  My weekends were filled with trips, a funeral, friend drama and everything else you could think of.  My friends were my family.

I think the problem was that each of us had things that we needed to fix and neither one of us wanted to budge on it.  Stubbornness and pride really don’t go well with the start of a relationship.  It is just an obvious fact.

Now, I am living in stage four nearly every day.  By mid April the awkwardness began and as of today, May 25th, it is safe to say that we now have a very awkward friendship.  There are no more emails.  The teasing is random and few and far between.  There arent romantic walks through the New York City night and I am willing to bet money that there won’t be anymore with him.

However, I did learn that having Fort Knox around you isn’t a way to keep from getting hurt.  If anything, it keeps you from fully enjoying the great thing you have.  If everything in life happens for a reason; I think this happened for that lesson.

My Other Half Isnt…My 18 Year Old Self’s Dream Guy

I can sit and complain about how single is the direct cause of a man’s asinine ways.

95% of the time that is true.  complete, whole heartedly and without a doubt true.

That is a huge thing for me to admit.  A year ago it would have been 100%.

I contribute the other 5% to my younger self’s ability to be super selective.  I was selective to a downfall.  When I tell you that Prince Charming could escape a fairytale and knock on my door and not be good enough, it isn’t an exaggeration..

At 18, this was my list of requirements for any guy who wanted to even say HELLO to me:

1. Light Eyes                                                  7. Lives alone                                                         13. Travels a lot

2. Smart but not TOO smart                    8. Loves the beach                                               14. Loves Sports

3. An older brother                                     9. Makes me Laugh                                            15. Is big on music

4. Dysfunctional                                         10. Never asks questions about my life        16. Writes poetry/songs

5. Plays an instrument                             11. Only wears jeans and a tee-shirt.             17. Believes Ice Cream’s a breakfast food

6. Burps the alphabet                               12. Must come from a large family                 18. ADORES KIDS

This was my ideal when I was dumb enough to believe that he existed.  I’ve only met one person who fit into nearly everything above but a number 20 has to be added. “Has to be the BIGGEST whore that ever lived”.

The “Perfect Guy” doesn’t exist BUT I do think that the perfect guy for each person does.

While my list has changed from my teen years, some parts have stayed the same.  For example, any guy I date HAS to make me laugh.  Laughter is a cure-all and I couldn’t imagine dating anyone who doesn’t believe that a smile can brighten a room.  Also, he still has to adore kids because one day I hope to be a mom.  Not just a mom of one but a mom of four so it is important that he loves kids just as much as I do.

Does he have to play an instrument?  It would be nice but it isn’t a requirement.  (he may never know how to play a note but he could kick ass at guitar hero)

Being dysfunctional isn’t a turn on anymore.  I am way too old and have way too many issues of my own to get caught up in his.  The days of me wanting to “save” someone are long behind me.

He still needs to love the beach but he doesn’t need to travel a lot.  The desire to WANT to travel is enough; especially in this economy.

The most important thing of all, which was never mentioned in my list above, was that whoever he may be he has to love me FOR ME.  This guy needs to be able to look at all my faults and kooky behavior and love me all the more for it.  He has to accept me for me because I accept me for me.  It took me a long time to love who I am and I can’t imagine being with someone who doesn’t.

My Other Half ISN’T At “El Rio Grand”

Oh dear God, no!  NO! Not if I were the last woman on earth.

Wait!  That’s too cliché and doesn’t even describe the horrific male sights that are there.

If I were a lesbian all my life and were overly desperate to find a guy to “do me”. I still wouldn’t go to this place to find a male.

First, the positive things about this tex mex restaurant.  The food is AMAZING!  My friend and I shared a plate of nachos with refried beans and cheese quesadilla that would blow your mind.  I starved myself for the whole day to be sure I could indulge without guilt and it was completely worth it.
If you want to get tipsy quick, have the margarita.  The first one had my crappy day looking like a walk down the yellow brick road.  The second had me so relaxed i was ready for bed by seven.  The drinks were fantastic and I would highly recommend it for great food and better drinks.

As for attempt one of my experiment; I should have gone straight home after work.

Yes, I want to find my other half but I’m 99% sure my other half is NOT a 40 year old office slave who thinks it is cool to pick up 20 year olds at happy hour.  I have never been so depressed at a happy hour before!  The most promising guy there looked to be about 35 and donned  a trucker hat.

Note: The ONLY guy allowed to wear a trucker hat passed 2003 is Ashton Kutcher.  One, because he started the trend.  Two, he’s Ashton Kutcher.

It is important that the guy be established in his life and be comfortable in his own skin.  A mature guy would be!

With that said, I do not want someone who can give my Dad a run for his money in the “mature race”.

A guy in a suit is fine as long as he can have fun.  Even if you are a 27 year old office manager, don’t be a wall flower.  It makes you old before you’re time.

If day one is any indication of the boys (yes, BOYS not MEN) I am going to have to endure on this journey to find true love, I may as well put my local convent on speed dial.

Explanation of the Search and the Madness

An example of my obvious love for musicians

Introduction

Ten years ago, if anyone told me that I wouldn’t be married at 25, I would have immediately broke out in tears. If that same messenger would have gone a step further and reported on my single status, I would have hung myself.

The reason is very simple. At 15 I thought my “other half’ would have entered my life by the time I was 18. At 21, I was supposed to have been married. Laughably, at 25, I was supposed to already be a mom.

Yet, here I am, a quarter of a century old. My left hand wears no ring and my last name is still my own. There is no fiance; no boyfriend. There isn’t even a prospect at this point. The above plan was obvious a result of an adolecent’s overzealous imagination. The whole “happily ever after” idea that was drilled into my toddler self obviously made itself present in each moment of this ridiculousy planned future I had planned for myself.

Even with that knowledge, though, there is still disappointment that my life turned out to be the complete OPPOSITE of everything that I wanted when posters still hung on my walls and my favorite breakfast food was ice cream.

Behind The Experiment

Ever since I hit puberty I’ve been mezmerised by musicians. Perhaps it is the raw sexual power they send out to us willing participants. It could be the attention they order us to give them with their music. It may even be that in a groupie’s mind, beneath that bad boy exterior, lies that Prince Charming our mother’s read to us about when we were children.

My perfect guy would be a mix of Tommy Lee, Nikki Sixx, Jon Bon Jovi, and Bret Michaels; much to my mother’s dismay.

In knowing this, you can now gain some insight into why I spent the majorityof teen years chasing after tour buses and making friend’s with hotel guards.

My mother wanted a daughter that came home with stories about their dates on a Friday night. I came home telling her how my favorite boy band member would have paid more attention to me had I bought that water bra the previous week at the mall.

There weren’t any real dates and there weren’t any big heartbreaks. I was too busy trying to win the affection of my guitar playing heroes.

Now that I’m older i’d enjoy putting my music chasing days aside and actually trying out my hand on dating a nice decent fellow.

While a handful of my friends keep telling me to date and date often my mother is constantly mentioning grand children and marriage.

What do I want? I want to date without games and drama and find the one relatively quickly because the dating game is murder causing.

When do you call? When don’t you call? How long do you wait to text back after they text you? Seriously…who wants that when all you really want is someone that is going to love you for each and ever nutty idea that comes out of your mouth?

The Experiment

My mission is to find “My Other Half” by the time my 27th birthday comes. That is exactly a year, two months and twenty three days from today.

After every outting to find this supposed “Prince Charming” I’ll write about my adventure and intitle it “My Other Half Could be…” When, and I’m sure this is more likely the case, I find another male whore with a man child complex I will write “My Other Half Isn’t” post.

My hope is that by the time my 27th birthday rolls around I will be able to prove to all fallen romantics that love actually exists; I include myself in that category.

If not, well, I suppose I’ll have a very public account of each embarrassing moment that I would have put myself through for the search for someone who may not even exist.

This should be an interesting ride….

Let the games begin. First stop is El Rio Grande in New York City….