Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Dates 27 & 28


UFB and I have hectic and busy schedules, so some time had passed with little communication.  We finally figured it all out on Friday night.

After my show and his business dinner, UFB picked me up and we went to a local watering hole.  A gaggle of my friends were present, and UFB invited one of his buddies also.  What a festive time.  Libations, laughter, witty banter...  All of the things that make up an enchanting evening.

UFB and I had not seen each other in a while, so it's only natural that we'd be a bit more touchy feely than normal.  Perhaps we went a bit too far, as my friend, Ash, approached towards the end of the night and interrupted by saying, "Gross.  We're leaving."

She left.  Shortly after, UFB retreated as well to take the PDA into a more private setting.


I meet UFB at his place and we go out to eat.  We both overeat.  What is wrong with us?  Now we're sloth-like but still manage to make it out for an after dinner drink.  UFB's friend calls and asks us to come by, so we do.  We finish the evening there and head back to his place.

We're tired, but not ready to go to sleep, so we order part 2 of the Woody Allen documentary and fall asleep within 10 minutes.  It was the complete antithesis of the night before, but perfect.


Well, I gotta say, I'm a little surprised this didn't happen sooner.  The tide has turned with Frenchman.  I thought all was well.  We had an amiable exchange about the blog, he commented on a few with which he agreed, and the night ended happily.

A few days go by, and I haven't heard from Frenchman.  That's fine.  I'm busy.  He's busy.  Neither of us made mention of communicating again.

And then Sunday night happened.

I need to give you the Reader's Digest version on this one because it's laborious, and he's reading.  (Bonjour, monsieur.)

He's mad.  Full on pissed.  He matched up dates of our text exchanges with blogs (WHY??), and now he's all bent out of shape.  I tried to explain that he and I are not in a relationship and were just communicating; therefore, both of us are able to do whatever with whomever (I didn't use these words, but...), and there is no reason to be upset.

Well, that didn't go over too well, and it's all downhill from there.  Apparently, I'm an awful woman.  He even went so far as to say that he can't find a woman spirit in me at all.  I'm not exactly sure what that means, but the word "cold-hearted" comes to mind.

I mean, it goes on forever.  Text, after text, after text about how awful I am.  I'm culturally insensitive for nicknaming people for their nationality, and then he blames it on the fact that I'm from Texas.  (He made a couple of derogatory statements about my being from Texas.  I will not do that to you France!  I love you too much.)

I'm going to have to defend myself on this one.  I am no xenophobe.  I adore people from other countries. Also 1) I named my Israeli friend Kibbutz because he lived on a freaking Kibbutz 2) I didn't name the Lebanese Parisian, Lebanese Parisian.  I called him by his given name.  Sammy 3) I named an American Le Lysee.  That's right.  Described an American with a French word.

I believe we should all be proud of where we're from.  I love my country, and if you want to call me The American, then go ahead.  I'll hold my head up high and sing the National Anthem AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS!  And you should too, everyone from other places.  We all should.

I eventually had to go to sleep and woke up the next morning to 20 verbally abusive texts.  Is this frightening?  A bit.  But this is why it's good to have cops and lawyers as friends.  Harassment is against the law.  Thank God.

When a girl gets all crazy on a guy, it can be a bit entertaining.  I'm convinced some men even dig that behavior.  It boggles my mind, but it's true.  When men do it, it's Lifetime movie-esque.  Don't bully girls!

I don't want to put any more energy into this than I already have.  Communication is over and it's time to move on.  I want to spend the rest of the time on this blog with someone who understands and accepts me more, so let's finish it out with UFB.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Cold Busted

Well, well, well.  Seems I got a little too big for my britches.  Just as I was sliding into home, not a care in the world, over this blog, onto the next, in fact, I get busted by a suitor.

Frenchman found the blog and found it quickly.  I don't think his date was up for more than 24 hours before he found it.  Weird, huh?  Here is a breakdown of what went down:
  • My Israeli male friend (whom we'll call Kibbutz as he's private) came over while I made egg salad.
  • My phone made the sound it makes when indicating that I have a text.
  • Frenchman said he was reading the blog, and don't ask how he found it, but he's very "intuitive."
  • I have a minor freak-out as Kibbutz laughed his ass off.
  • Frenchman seemed upset, but then proceeded to read the entire blog and enjoyed it.  (He didn't say he loved it, but he also doesn't seem angry.)
  • As the night continued, I occasionally received texts from Frenchman commenting on certain entries.  Also, as a former psychoanalytic student, he may be worried about my mental health.
Here are the theories:
  • Frenchman always knew about the blog, and I've been bamboozled.
  • He's not even French, and I've REALLY been taken for a ride.
  • Someone has a lot of time to peruse search engines as my full name isn't on this thing.  (Thankfully, for him,  it was before the SOPA/PIPA fiasco.)
  • I have accidentally befriended him on a social network.
  • I'm not as smart as I think I am.  (This one is a given.)
The part that confuses me is the intuitive comment.  During my 2 Proseccos and witty banter, how did I subconsciously deliver, "I have a blog called www.30dates30blogs.blogspot.com and you're in it?"  How does intuition play a factor in this at all?  Thank God there isn't an intuitive event in the Olympics, because the French would kick our asses ladies and gentlemen.

As you have probably surmised, Frenchman is also reading this entry.  I told him, and I will tell you all too, I think Frenchman is a lovely person.  It is not my intention to hurt anyone's feelings.  As a matter of fact, it is the last thing I want to do.  Well, the last thing I want to do is kill someone.  Or accidentally get pregnant at my age, as I'd have to keep it.  But hurting feelings is definitely in the top 5 things I don't want to do.  Ever.  But alas, I am a journalist and must journal.  Peace be with you all, and let's get this blog over with now that my cover has been blown.  

Monday, January 16, 2012

Senioritis Blues

I've been so busy running around town like a 29 year old that I haven't really had the time to stop and think about the fact that this blog is coming to a close.  I only have 4 more dates.  True, I could stretch it out another 2 months or so, but I feel like the project should end when it's supposed to end, and that end is drawing near.  But what will become of me after this?

It's going to be a bit odd to no longer have a project, a reason to write.  I mean, there are other reasons to write, but I'm a little addicted to this experiment model.  After a short hiatus, I have to start a new blog.  But what?  My trainer suggested gain 30 lbs. and then lose it.  Obviously I'm not a big fan of that.  I guess things come to mind out of the blue, so I won't force it.

Although we're not completely done, nothing truly amazing came out of this.  I didn't fall in love (surprise).  Nobody's life was saved.  That whole cancer thing still seems to be an issue.  Ultimately, I have nothing of real value.


I did get to kiss on some random guys here and there.  That's worth something.

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Date 26

Frenchman and I had a rather lengthy back-and-forth about where to meet, when to meet, should we meet, blah, blah, blah...  To be difficult, I decided to do a show on Thursday but was hoping he and I could meet beforehand.  That way it's an in-and-out and I can go about by business.  If he's fabulous, great.  There will be a second date.  If not, great.  I have a show to do and he provided material.

We met near my house at a restaurant where I meet many of these men.  The bartender knows me, but I've never told him why I'm always with a different man.  I bet he's really confused as to what my "type" is.

Frenchman was a wee late due to traffic.  He thought since he rode a motorcycle it would take him less time.  When I say that Frenchman rides a motorcycle I mean it is his only form of transportation.  He walked in looking like he had an exoskeleton.  I realize that motorcycle wear is for safety, but it looks like an extra's costume from Alien.

Frenchman was handsome.  Loads of curly salt and pepper hair, facial hair, Mediterranean looking, really.  I like that.  He is ridiculously polite and knows a bunch of stuff I don't know.  This is why I like foreign men.  You can always learn something from them.  That is, if you can understand them.

Frenchman's English sounds like French.  There were times I just nodded and said "right" because we needed to move on.  I would also like to tell you that Frenchman runs 10 miles a day.  Yup.  Barefoot.  Oh yes.  I voiced my concern for such a thing in which he replied, "But we are made to run barefoot.  We were also made to run naked."  (Man.  The French, right?)  I told him that his logic was just, but since I can't do one jumping jack with my American Apparel bra on, the thought of running with nothing was troublesome.

He said that Americans were interesting, and he has a hard time assimilating.  He said that Europeans don't date.  The concept of dating is an American thing.  I asked what they did then.  He said, "Meet for coffee, grab a drink, stay home and watch a movie..."  I replied, "Yeah.  That's what we call dating."

Frenchman paid for my 2 Proseccos.  As a matter of fact, when I grabbed my wallet, he said, "Won't you be my guest?"  Do you see why foreign men are so grand?  American men don't say things like that.  It's not their fault.  Just a different upbringing, but UGH, it's a blast to hang with for a bit.  Ladies and gays, PLEASE date a non-American at least once.  It's fun.

We parted ways because I needed to get to my show.  He has since texted me and asked if I would like to go running barefoot on the beach.  I declined.

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Dates 22-25

UFB and I were friends.  Then we were more than friends.  Then for a bit, we were neither.  Then we became friends again.  Now we're a little bit more than friends.  Soon enough, we will be friends again.

You know when you break up with someone, but sometimes there's that after burn?  Phone calls, texts, and occasional "meetings" occur post break-up?  UFB and I didn't do that.  We just went on our merry way, and that was that.  I'm guessing this is just an overdue after burn.

Wanna read about it?

Date 22
I had just returned from Texas and had a show that night.  UFB texted to ask if I'd like to grab dinner.  I told him it would have to be tomorrow because of the whole show business thing.  He said OK but perhaps a drink after the show.  We got that drink after the show.  Funny hanging with an after burn.  The familiarity is comforting, at first.  That night was fun.  We laughed, shared a libation or two, and had a lovely adult evening.

Date 23
I'm exhausted from Date 25.  EXTREMELY.  I couldn't even nap.  It was awful.  I didn't know how I was going to pull it together for dinner.  Then sweet UFB texted and asked if we could do something low-key instead.  Yes!  This is what I like about him.  We ordered pizza, watched part 1 of the Woody Allen documentary (see it), and fell asleep on the couch.  I remember this.

Date 24
This night got all whack.  I was supposed to go to his place, but I had to go meet the girls first, so he made plans, but they went later than my plans, so I had to keep it going even though I was ready to shut it down...  Exhausting.  But then we ended up together and had another enchanting adult evening.

Date 25
We ended up spending the whole next day hanging out.  Mostly eating and sleeping.  That night we had dinner at a charming taco place near the Grove.  Our mutual friend met us there, and then we had drinks down the street.  At some point, we ended up at our local watering hole.  You know how it ends.  Adult evening.  Wonderful.  Blah, blah, blah.

Happy New Year (12 days late)

Yeah.  I know.  Sorry Regulars.  I've been MIA for quite some time, but I want to explain.  And explain I will.

I have a confession to make.  I've been "seeing" an ex.  We'll call him UFB for Unfinished Business (I know that unfinished is one word, but UFB rolls off of the tongue nicer than UB, no?).  It's not a big deal, and it's temporary, and I don't want to get into it too much as some things ARE sacred, but you deserve to know what's going on.  Especially since you're about to get a crash course on dates 22-25.

I am also going to meet Frenchman before my show tonight.  I don't remember if we named him Frenchman, but I'm in a rush and cannot research.  He's from France.  For reals.  Even his texts have an accent.  We've been texting since Thanksgiving, so he's also persistent.  I don't really have time to met Frenchman, but I'm doing it anyway.

BTW- Texas was great but friends and family only.  I don't think I saw one single man.