Dating Schmating

So...the spanx are rightfully retrieved, and the brief panic that had overtaken me is partially over. However, I believe that I've come to the conclusion that Mr. Date is not Mr. Right, or even Mr. Right Now, and as a result, I've decided to break it off with him. One tiny little problem - my final belonging, a pair of hugely important white gold earrings (not nearly as important or mortifyingly embarrassing as the Spanx) is still at his place, and I refuse to end it with him unless I get them back. And just asking for them back isn't even that simple, since I effortlessly managed to toss one of the earrings casually behind the backboard of his bed, which happens to be an entire wall unit that he did not want to move in order to retreive what to him was, 'just' an earring. But that earring, is mine. And one day, when he wants a bigger and better wall unit, and he decided to finally move this one back and he finds my earring, and either remembers how great I was, or decides to do something shady like gift the earrings to his then-girlfriend, I'm going to get upset. Is it irrational, that I don't want to break up with him until he gets me my earrings? I guess that would be the equivalent of a guy wanting his shirt back that a girl may have slept in when she slept over and ended up taking home with her the next day, and decided that this is now and forever her shirt. I know girls that do that - for each guy they date, they get to keep a shirt - its like a rightful belonging and a symbol of how many guys they date, and how big or small of men they were (depending on the shirt size). I guess I should've taken a shirt and then we'd be even and I wouldn't be thinking about these stupid earrings. But I am who I am, and the earrings will be on my mind until retrieval, much like the spanx.

On the downside (I guess there was no upside?), I've realized where it is that I go wrong with guys. In the beginning, I do it all the right way. I don't get too excited, I more or less act uninterested, busy, unattached - exactly how I feel. Then, when I actually do start to like them, I act like I like them. But what I've realized, is that you aren't supposed to ever show them that you like them. For some reason, men associate this attention with clinginess, lack of independence, and some button in them gets turned off the second that a girl shows interest. Be it the game, the chase, but its annoying. I don't like these rules, but what am I to do? I'm not clingy by any means, but I like attention just as much as the next girl. Guess its time for dating reality check. Next guy on the list, we'll be testing this theory.

How long do you have to act uninterested to keep him interested?

Dating schmating. People waste too much time playing these games.

Thanx but no Spanx

Recently, a friend introduced me to the miracle invention of Spanx, the elastic half body pantyhose that sucks you in, creating an illusion of being about 10 pounds lighter than you really are in a sacrificial process that restricts breathing for the entirety of a date. Genius idea. And as I was full ready to test out any product that made me look and feel slimmer, the lucky guy I happen to be dating now has been my test-drive for this miracle product. Success or failure? You decide.

SPANX Round 1: On my first date, when we just met, we go to dinner and drinks at a nice restaurant. I wear the Spanx under a long tank and jeans. Consistently thinking about whether my jeans are sagging and you could potentially see the Spanx from the back when I'm walking away to the bathroom. NERVE-racking. I think I was safe. Mr. Date notices my pedicured toes, and decides to tickle my toes - 'odd' i think to myself, but I giggle at the tickling flirtatiously. Later, I go to sit next to Mr. Date, to watch a basketball game that was playing (initially behind me), and Mr. Date decides to tickle my side. SPANX ALERT: spanx make you feel rock hard, not the normal squishy, soft me, but this illusion of some kind of six pack underneath that tank, that is still taking many years of hard work to form. Some of you may be thinking, WHY WAS HE TICKLING you on a first date??? I have NO idea. But the point was, there was no flirtatious giggling this time. "Stop, haha, no, seriously, STOP." I think I actually got angry at one point. Spanx negative for sure.

But somehow Date 1 turned into many more dates. So a second round of Spanx ensued.

SPANX Round 2: I happen to be surrounded by very skinny, beautiful girl friends with near perfect bodies. Spanx are pretty much a must when going in public with them and members of the opposite sex simultaneously. So I get all beautified and spend a good 10 minutes squishing pieces of my soft and cuddly body into these form constricting life suckers, and go to dinner and drinks with the group. Then dilemma ensues. What do I do with the Spanx when I go back to Mr. Date's place? Screw granny panties, a guy finding a girl in Spanx won't even know what to do with himself, they are like a granny panty nightmare times ten! So my girlfriend tells me the tips:

1) If you have a big purse, go in the bathroom and put the Spanx in the purse before going anywhere with Mr. Date.
2) If you don't have access to a big purse, go to the bathroom and hide the Spanx under the sink, where Mr. Date is unlikely to look in the next 3-8 hours, and then put them back on in the morning before leaving.

Duly noted. So I'm in his bathroom, taking off the spanx with no big purse in sight. Tip 2 must take place. I look under the sink, and there is nowhere to hide, plus he has useful things down there like mouthwash, and computer game magazines that he is bound to use within the time frame of my stay. Panic strikes. I notice there is also a linen closet in the bathroom, with towels and such. I decide this is my safe place, and hide the Spanx securely on the top shelf underneath a big towel, and proceed to sleeping over.

The next morning, I drive home, spend the day with my exhausting family and curl up into bed. As I think about my day and all that I was supposed to do, I realize one tiny, little, super significant fact. I forgot the last part of my friend's spanx advice. The part where in the morning, I retrieve the Spanx from their hiding place and put them back on! I had left the Spanx on that top shelf, and knew that I probably wouldn't be over at Mr. Date's place for at least another week. HOLY CRAP. What if he needs that towel, and upon reaching for a pair of nude 'granny panty'-like pantyhose falls on his face? Would he confront me? Would he just never call me again? How can I retrieve them? How can I face being dumped for leaving my Spanx in someone's linen closet? Panic panic panic! After about 2 days of freaking out and no calls or texts from Mr. Date, I start becoming sure that it is over. The discovery of the Spanx are sure to be my doom and downfall, letting yet another man free into the non-spanx-mistake driven world.

Finally, I text an innocent, "how's it goin" text to test the waters and the response seems friendly and natural. So far the Spanx are undiscovered and safe. But I'll keep you posted, just in case.

The Mating Game

Greg

so what's on the agenda for this weekend?

11:28pmMe

welllllll

i actually just got home

and im going go this retreat tomorrow

its called a russian shabbaton

and you basically celebrate shabbat ( jewish holiday every weekend) with a bunch of russian jews from the chicago area

from fri-sun

and sit around and talk about being an immigrant and what it feels like to be a russian jew

and in between all the lectures and talks and activities, we drink vodka

and the russian jewish men scope out the russian jewish women for possible mating opportunities

because no one is actually there by will, everyone's parents bought them a ticket and talked them into it

because we are all miserable single russian jews that need to mate and make brilliant russian jewish babies as soon as possible

11:30pmGreg

wow! nice

so basically its a singles retreat

11:31pmMe

right...

and the women are significantly better looking than the men, because god did not want to make it easy for us to mate, but instead made the russian jewish men significantly smarter than the average male, and gave them amazing well paying jobs and zero social skills

so it usually takes a lot of vodka for this so called expected mating to occur

11:32pmGreg

you sound like steve irwin right now

except you're not talking about animals

11:32pmMe

hahaha

11:32pmGreg

crikey!