Facebooked

By nature I'm not a snooper. I'll ask a million questions. I'm not above some social media stalking. I might even open up your medicine cabinet to make sure you don't have some scary pill addiction that apparently every third person in America has (if 60 Minutes and NPR are to be believed). I'll mine the depths of your friend's/parent's/sibling's brain for stories about you because I like stories, and I want to see you through a different lens. I want as much of the personal stuff as I can get. I want to know about the bad haircuts and favorite Halloween costume you insisted on wearing every day until March. I want to know what your prom date was like and where your first kiss was. I want to know who broke your heart and whether or not you called your mom before she even got home from dropping you off at college.

I love that that kind of information because I wasn't there, but it is part of the patchwork that makes up a person.

But going through a phone isn't my style. Your email is your business. And if you happen to be one of the .000000009% of the population that still keeps a journal, I'm not going to read it.

And you know why?
Because snooping is bad. And you probably won't like anything that you find.

PLUS, speaking as someone who might one day be crushed by the weight of their diaries, if someone reads any of my journals before my death, I'll probably have to leave the country, take an assumed identity, and have some really painful facial reconstructive surgery so no one will know that I am the avid journal keeper, formerly known as Crigger.

You don't want to be responsible for that, do you?

Maybe my new identity will be less dramatic, though I highly doubt it.

Also, I should warn any of you snoopers now that I'll haunt you upon my death if I learn you've read any of my journals before I die. Which I am sure now you are all dying to read, because obviously my journal is choked full of juicy tidbits if I'll react like a villain from Scooby Doo to the thought of someone reading it.

However, my journals are not that interesting.
Most of the juicy stuff is here.
Plus, this is typed and my handwriting has gotten illegible. So if you want to risk a haunting for something you probably can't read without a translator, be my guest!

However, my one concession to snooping (outside of the medicine cabinet) is I LOVE to play on someone's Facebook account. I'll change your interests to "Bed wetting and playing with My Little Ponies." I might set your status to "I'm really looking forward to the delivery of the complete collection of The OC DVDs" or post an obviously fake news article and argue that it is true.

Fairly innocent pranks... Unless of course your Mom reads that I've declared your love of Penthouse to the world. But I've done enough of these antics that my friends know better than to leave their Facebook open and unattended around me.

However, Shane did not know of my Facebook antics and after he'd used my computer and forgotten to log out of Facebook I couldn't resist the temptation.

So there I was, sitting in my little apartment gleefully changing his team of choice from the UK Wildcats to the Louisville Cardinals (complete with a new profile picture that was Rick Pitino) when a message popped up.

Should I have logged off then?
Yes. Obviously.
Did I?
No.
I am I proud of that?
Not really. 

The message started off innocently enough. Normal things like "How are you? How is California? Did you find my sunglasses from when I was out there last month? Can we see each other when you come home next time?"

"There last month? I didn't know Shane had a friend in town. When you come home? This must be someone in Kentucky." I thought as I clicked on the profile of Kristi Bell. "Yep... lives in Lexington. Goes to or went to UK... she is pretty. Ugh... Her name is familiar. I think he said his ex girlfriend's name is Kristi or Kristin..." 

I clicked on the picture icon on her profile.

"Yep. Must be her. There they are at a BBQ. Kissing him on the cheek. Pictures with friends. There's his friend Pat. Wait... Pat lives here..."

"Hey! Are you there? I can see that the message has been read."

"ACK!!  Abort mission! Abort mission! Get out" my mind was screaming like she knew it was me and not Shane behind the screen, but my finger kept scrolling up through the messages. I was like a bear coming out of hibernation and I couldn't eat fast enough. I just kept shoveling it in.

"Wait, they just broke up? How long ago? What does this message mean? He and I were kissing on the balcony a month ago." I thought doing the math. "We've been on two dates and watched a UK basketball game since then. AND KISSED ON A BALCONY. He did say he HAD a girlfriend in Kentucky, but he said they had been broken up for awhile... How long is awhile? Stop. STOP! STOP READING! JUST STOP!"

But I couldn't.
I needed to know.
And at the same time didn't want to know. It wasn't really my business. This person wasn't my boyfriend. He was just someone I had struck up a friendship with and it was maybe becoming something more. But maybe it wasn't going anywhere. I don't want to be "relationship girl" right now. I want to be dating-girl.

So I kept reading their messages.

I wanted to believe this nice guy from Kentucky wouldn't be kissing me on his balcony only to go back inside and text his girlfriend, maybe now ex-girlfriend? But there were messages between them on that balcony night. But from the tone of the messages they didn't seem to be together now, but there was definitely some overlap between kissing me, her visit, and their break-up.

"Oh gosh! Did I cause their break-up? ...Be real Crigger. She lives on the other side of the country. 3000 miles probably had more to do with it than you. You aren't the great and powerful Oz after all!

Oh great! Now I can't unknow this! I won't be able to hide that I was snooping! I'll be so weird the next time I see Shane, which will probably be next Saturday! We have a game watch party! Great. Super! This is why you don't snoop Crigger! This is why you do not do it!!  Nothing good comes from it! You could have just been floating along, having a drinking/ UK game watch buddy, but no! You had to play jokes. Who's laughing now? You didn't even really like him in a like-him-like-him way. You had already decided you guys should just be buddies. And now you're worried you are going to be weird? Get a grip and log off, Snoppy McSnoopy-pants!"

Eventually I closed the message box and logged Shane out of Facebook on my computer.
I never admitted my snooping, but I did ask him once, months later, if there was any overlap and he denied it.

And maybe there wasn't any overlap. Maybe he was being honest
Or maybe they could both run around kissing whoever they wanted. I don't know what the terms of their relationship were.
But for me, one of the biggest terms in a relationship is: No Snooping. No good has ever come from it.
Instead, I just ask questions. Lots of questions.
Dating me is like dating the Riddler.

Tinder is my JAM!

It is no secret that I like Tinder.
Yeah, yeah... it is known for being a hook up site, but Match.com, OKCupid, and a bar on Friday night could all be accused of the same thing. In my view, it is the online dating system that comes closet to mimicking the true experience of dating in the real world. And here is why.

Are you ready to have your mind blown?
Tinder is based solely on the ancient technology of  proximity and mutual selection.

If those two variables were good enough for Chuck and Chatty Kathy, they are good enough for me.

Charles and Kathy (my parents) didn't sit down and fill out a questionnaire in order to determine if they were compatible. My Dad saw my Mom jump hurtles at track practice and thought "She's cute. I'll ask her out."

BOOM.
Proximity and mutual selection for the win. And forty-two years later, they are still the most happily married people I have ever encountered. Of course there are all those things that make up a happy life together like love, commitment, partnership, support, vacations, promotions, raising a child that was nothing short of a constant delight, paying for college for said delight, building houses, playing golf, picking out plants for the garden, etc.. but in the beginning it was as simple as, "You're cute and you said yes."

And that is basically how Tinder works, instead of calling the girl from track practice at number M9 on the party line, you swipe right because you think the person is cute and the reason they even show up on your Tinder account is because they live within your distance settings.

You don't know how many siblings they have, what they do for work, or where they grew up until you talk to them. You don't know they like to surf, or hate playing paintball, or have a best friend named Jeff who is always their wedding date. For all you know, they are a dog person and you prefer cats, but you end up going on a date anyway because you both love the Sopranos and think the Duke basketball team should be abolished. And guess what, that dog vs. cat issue, it ended up not being such a big deal.

For me, Tinder puts some of the mystery back in online dating that all the other sites pride themselves on eliminating. For some people, getting rid of the mystery is great and finding someone who checks off all these innocuous boxes is exactly what they want. They only want to date dog people, because cat people are obviously terrible. They only want to be in a relationship with someone who wants those traditional gender roles filled, because, hey, a man can't be expected to make his own sandwich in 2014 and heaven forbid a woman dane to have a job outside the home. They only want to date other Methodists, vegetarians, surfers, or yogis.

And that is fine. Perfectly fine.

This is why Tinder is not their jam.

I use online dating to meet people I probably wouldn't because I work long hours, most of my friends are coupled up, and I go places like the yoga studio where it is mostly other women, and I struggle to pick up guys at the driving range because most of them don't like to date a girl they know can beat them at golf. I prefer to let that be a nice surprise later. On Tinder, I know next to nothing about these people other than their age and the fact that they are within 50 miles of where I'm standing at any given moment. And they know next to nothing about me except that I like bourbon and tacos and dancing on boardwalks.

Furthermore, I love that Tinder protects my feelings like the world's best wing-(wo)man. Earlier this week I was completely miffed after two, TWO, different guys sent me questions, and after I responded they hid their profiles from me. That is the really, really great thing about eHarmony, you can see who has hidden your profile. And the message eHarmony sends that says "But this is great news that Mr. GuyWithDog hid from you, because that means you are closer to finding Mr. GuyWithCat." is really very comforting. (That was sarcasm in case it didn't come across in print).

As if it isn't bad enough that they don't send the follow up email to take things to the next communication level, they hide from you.
I had an ex hide from me in Best Buy once.
That made me feel terrible then and this makes me terrible now.

I find myself thinking, There must really be something wrong with me that my answers to 5 little questions encouraged someone to hide their profile from me so I couldn't contact them. Did they not like my response to the gender roles question? In case anyone is wondering I answered that I'd prefer my partner and I define those ourselves. Earth shattering. I know. Could it have been that my answer to the travel question is that my bags are packed and I'm ready to go? Does that make them think I'd just disappear? Maybe they are a homebody? Or maybe they can't fly because they are on the the terrorist watch list. Well, luckily they hid from me. I don't want to date someone who can't fly. Or is a terrorist... Maybe they think I'm going to make them become a vegetarian? UGH! What is so horrible about me that the cute professor and the engineer hid from me?

The rational answer is nothing is wrong with me. And if eHarmony cared about me at all they wouldn't leave those fellas lingering on my matches page, just greyed out, taunting me.

But this is the flaw with Match, OKC, Zoosk, or eHarmony, there is nothing that prevents you from checking a million times to see when they signed in last and wondering what it so wrong with you that they didn't message you back. In the immortal words of Dolly Parton, "It is enough to drive you crazy if you let it!"

This does madness does not happen with Tinder for a variety of reasons.

First, you can only see people who have liked your profile as well. It is mutual. It is like smiling at someone in a bar-- if they smile back, go over and start chatting. If they look away and don't smile back, smile at their friend. All those folks you liked on Tinder who didn't like you back, fade into cyber space never to be heard from again.

Second, messages can only be sent between two people who have selected each other. There is no wondering why SurferGuy22 didn't message me back or wondering how on earth that I answered a question and got paired with Toothless Joe and the Psycho(therapist) who breeds his own fish and refers to them as his creations? #truestory #DrFrankenstein

Finally, the last time I looked to see how many people I had matched with it was upwards of 300. My mom always says she thinks there is more than one person out there for everyone, you just decide to be committed to one person. And after matching with 360 men that I at least can stomach sitting across the table from for dinner, I believe that too.

Realistically, would I be happy with all 360?
Probably not. And certainly not all at once. (A different man for every day of the year? That's alot of dating! Even for me.) But they wouldn't all be happy with me either. I'll be too short, or too bossy, or have too many male friends/books/pairs of shoes and they'll be too insecure about my male friends, be a Wiccan, or something truly dreadful, like a dog person. Just kidding! I like dogs. If they are clean and don't jump or bark and like to hike.

But in all seriousness, I'd prefer find out all those things that make someone "real" on a date, rather than have some "doctor" tell me he's found the cure for my case of the singles, only to find out this "extremely good match" is some doofus throwing up the shocker in his profile picture and raving about his dirt bike.

If he is that into his dirt bike, there will be a picture of the two of them on Tinder, and at which point I'll swipe left.

Ironically, Tinder reminds me of what is possible when you aren't so concerned about finding someone who checks all the boxes and you just open your eyes and look around.  It reminds me not to be defeated just because a few guys with puppies didn't like my answers to their stupid questions. After all, the girl dancing on the boardwalk in San Diego who loves bourbon and tacos is going on some pretty great Tinder dates with guys who struck up conversations because she smiled and was close by.

Until Last Night

Wait for it.
Wait for it...

I'm on Tinder.

Say what you want about Tinder, and the hook up culture that not only spawned it, but loves and fuels it, it cuts out a lot of the BS that online dating involves.

For those of you living under a rock and unfamiliar with Tinder, telling you it's the heterosexual version of Grinder probably doesn't help. Tinder employs the ancient technology of thinking someone is cute and being in the same place.

It's basically a bar on a Friday night that allows you to save face if you get rejected.

If you see a photo you like, you swipe right, and if the picture you swiped right on also swiped right on you, then you match. And at that point, message one another.
Otherwise, all those rejects that suffered a swipe left disappear into cyber space. And you can't see those folks you swiped right on that didn't reciprocate.

No more wondering why Joe-Smoe didn't message you after you sent him a smile or why that hot guy holding the puppy didn't message you after looking at your profile.
Does he not like cats, and only likes dogs? Do I look fat in my pictures? Maybe he doesn't like females with more education than he has? Should I take down that comment about loving the Golden Girls? 
It can become maddening.

There is no science behind Tinder. There is no Doctor claiming a superior quality of matches because of the litany of questions you've been forced to answer.

It is all based on proximity and mutual selection.

I'm no longer forced to wade through profiles where Joe, Billy, Tim, Stephen and George to tell me what books they would take to a deserted island and whether or not they prefer elephants to horses. Most of this is garbage that doesn't tell me one real snit about the person.

AND I'm definitely checking out the pictures before I read a single sentence on their profile.

Call me superficial. Call me shallow. But tell me I'm wrong when I claim that in order for a relationship to even get legs, there must as least be a baseline attraction.

Is this superficial? Yes, absolutely.
But it's no more superficial than deciding who you're going to sit down beside at a bar. You like something about the how that person looks, be it their smile, their eyes, or their t-shirt.

And Tinder cuts out all that other BS. I swipe left and send BillyBob into cyberspace exile. Or I swipe right and if Mr. Might-Be-Right has also swiped right it's a match! 90% of my "matches" I never even message, but of these ones I have messaged, and proceeded to go out with I've been pleasantly surprise.

I've met writers, professors, former Marines, entrepreneurs, artists, and engineers.
And I've never been disappointed.

Until last night.

Now, I've had many thoughts about my various dates over the course of my single life.
Some thoughts much more charitable than others...

He's more handsome in person than his pictures online.
Those pictures were taken 5 years and 30 pounds ago.
He should grow his beard back like he had in that one picture. I like beards.
He's had some interesting life experiences.
He seems like he has his life figured out.
His job sounds really complex, he must be smart.
He seems like the worst person on the planet. No wonder he is single.
He seems great! Why is he single...?

But I have never in my life thought "I'm too good for this person who just bought me a drink/ a coffee/ a cupcake."

Until last night.

As Ted and I sat in the coffee shop and I pondered just how old his pictures were and how many pounds he'd put on since they were taken he regaled me with these gems:

• He didn't know that renter's insurance existed, and was stunned to learn that his bicycle would have been covered by it.
• His perspective on foreign language is that "They can have their Japanese/Spanish/French and I'll keep my English because I don't want sound ridiculous."
• His grandparents live 15 minutes from him and he hasn't seen them since 2006

As I sat listening to him, more than a little stunned, I thought, I'm amazing. Why am I wasting my time with this bozo who is trying to plan our second date before we've finished this one and he somehow can't carve out an hour to drive across town to visit the grandparents with whom he has the audacity to claim he has a great relationship? I'm done. Get me out of here. NOW. I don't even want to finish my drink.

Insurance, renter's or otherwise, is something for which any adult should at least possess a frame of reference. Why don't you know what renters insurance is? I know you don't own your home, and that you rent, so presumably you should have lived somewhere that required renter's insurance at some point.

Please, don't tell me that Japanese is so beautiful that you don't want to butcher it, so you didn't learn any while you lived in Japan for two years. If you've ever been on a crowded subway, or trapped in a room of 30 Junior High School students, you know Japanese, like anyway language, isn't always beautiful. And to not want to look ridiculous? Give me a break. If you ever want to learn anything new, you have to be willing to sound/look/be ridiculous. At least for awhile.

And if my grandparents lived 15 minutes away I wouldn't go 8 days, let alone 8 years between visits. Don't tell me you're close with your family, and then tell me that.

I guess the bottom line is that I'm in a very different place in my life than I was 2 years ago when I started this blog. I know what I want in a relationship. In a partner. In the person with whom I choose to build my life. Ted was so far from being that person that I couldn't stand it.

He isn't a bad person. He's not unattractive, mean, or rude.
He's just foolish and his values are misplaced.

I know who I am. I know what I want. And I go see my grandparents.
That makes me too good for him.

Cats Rule. Dogs Drool.

March Madness is my favorite time of the year. 

I start looking forward to filling out my bracket (and taking money from all the guys at work) as soon as the UK/UofL match up happens. I incorporate blue and white into every outfit on game days. I wear my "Go Cats!" button like it is my job, and have a mild panic attack when I can't find it. My boss knows that one of my computer screens will be live streaming games, commentary, or podcasts for the better part of the month of March and he accepts that 90% of everything I say will relate to basketball. I take my foam finger to work and wear it to meetings. I raise my hand twice as often just so I can wave it in the air.

I'm the picture of a professional during the month of March. 

Today is no exception! I am rocking my favorite University of Kentucky shirt and my lucky red shoes. I made sure to add a dash of professional to the game day ensemble with my blazer, because I still need people to believe I'm going to get something accomplished other than reading every news story on KSR and ESPN. 

As I biked across campus, humming the UK Fight Song under my breath, I see the worst site I can imagine. 

A tall, lanky guy wearing a UCONN shirt standing right in the middle of my path smoking a cigarette. I only know one UCONN fan in all of California, and it happens to be Christmas (aka the worst-best date ever). The chances of there being two UCONN fans on campus are about the same as my chance of finding another UK fan wondering around campus at 8:00 am on a Monday morning. 

Slim to none. 

Great... Short of riding my bike through the library, I'm going to have to go right by him. Why did I even like him. He's a smoker and that is so gross. And even worse he is a UCONN fan! Actually, that's not entirely fair, because I do usually root for UCONN. Be the adult here Crigger. Don't ride your bike through the library. Or wreck into the fountain in your haste to get away. Just smile and be polite.

As I got closer I yelled, "You're gonna lose! You're gonna lose!" 

Nice Crigger. Not only was that not exactly polite, but you stole Stilwell's line from 'A League of Their Own'. 

Original. 

And classy. 

"Whaaaa...?" he sputtered before he realize it was I. "You guys just think you are the best team. We'll prove you wrong." He shouted at my back.

"We don't think we are the best. We know it. And after tonight, everyone else will too when we win our 9th title." I yelled over my shoulder as I sped away.

Well... that could have gone worse I suppose. I thought as I pedaled feverishly towards my office.

A little while later my phone lit up with a text message. 

"Care to place a wager on the game Ms. Wildcat?" 

"Absolutely! I love a sure thing!" I typed back to Christmas. "What did you have in mind?"

"Not sure. What do you mind losing?"

"Ha! Over confidence. Nice. It will make beating you that much better!"

"From the one who just said 'sure thing'? You remember what happened the last time you bet me, right?"

"I let you win."

"So you like taking embarrassing photos?"

"That photo is by far one of the least embarrassing photos of me ever taken."

"What would be the most embarrassing photo of you ever taken."

"I'm not telling."

"Then that is what I would like to wager."

"An embarrassing photo?"

"An embarrassing photo shoot."
"No dice. Not that this will happen, because we will win, but I don't want embarrassing photos of me floating around your office."  And when we win I don't want to have to get together with you to take said embarrassing photo of you.

"Fine, what do you suggest?"

"If you UK wins I'll bring you a UK themed outfit to wear to work."

"That is the most boring bet ever."

"You should ask the Kansas fan about the outfit he had to wear to work two years ago..."

UK better win this game! 

I'm not wearing his UCONN crap to work!

 

You're Killing Me Smalls!

Let me set the scene for you.

The night before I flew home for Christmas, I was out with a few co-workers who have become friends. While we were out, I met a guy. We all ended up staying out way too late and the next day he offered to take me to the airport. He showed up at my house with a latte, carried my suitcases, made me promise to call him if I needed anything, and double checked that I got through security without issue.

All signs are pointing to "This person does not think you are gross." 

SCORE!

We texted a few times over the break and at one point I suggested we get together when we are both back on California soil.

To that suggestion, I got a solid week of radio silence. Amelia Earhart had more communication while circling the Burmuda Triangle than I had from Christmas Boy. 

I chalked it up to his loss not mine and went about my merry way.

A few days after I got back to California I received a text from that read, "Sorry for the silence. I've been sick. Want to get together on Sunday for some football and beers?"

"Sure!" I respond.

Hmmm... interesting development. Nearly a week of silence and now football and beers? Okay! I can work with that.

I ultimately ended up having to cancel our date at the last minute, but he was great about it.
Even when it happened for the second time...

Well, I know he can deal with my crazy, spontaneous life and doesn't get upset when plans change... So that's a plus! 

Finally, nearly a month after our first meeting, it works out for us to get together. Christmas comes to pick me and we go to play Trivia at Dave and Busters.

Now, I love Trivia. I used to play Trivia every week when I lived in Pittsburgh. And I've had several great dates that have involved Trivia playing, so I've got fairly high hopes for this date. And in the week preceding this date, I've talked sooooo much trash about how awesome I am at Trivia and how I'm going to wipe the floor with him that now not only is a date at stake, my Trivia Pride is as well.

As it usually happens when I talk smack about how awesome I am at something, the exact opposite happens. It was as if I had cotton balls for brains! The loss was so bad he asked me if I let him win, to which I responded "I'll never tell," hoping he would assume I had.

In my defense those Trivia question were super hard! And I might have been paying more attention to Christmas than the game. Sue me.  And the version we were playing featured much more obscure sporting questions than I really think was fair, and not nearly enough geography and history! 

Since I lost, and we had a bet, and I never welsh on a bet, I had to wear my jacket backwards, tied up like a straight jacket and tell people I had just been let out of a mental institution. In order to get out of my "straight jacket" I had to get two different people to give me a shoulder bump (a high five wouldn't work since my hands were inaccessible).

"This is going to be like shooting fish in a barrel! There is a group of junior high school boys standing over there playing video games. I bet I can get them all to give me a shoulder bump." I said as I strode purposely over to the cluster of boys.

"Excuse me?" I said, launching into the mental patient story. "Can I get you give me a shoulder bump?" I asked at the end of my soliloquy.

"Ummm... I don't think so. I don't want to get involved." said one of the guys looking extremely awkward. "This seems like a couple problem."

"Ahhhh come on!" I pleaded.

"Nope." He said turning around.

Well, I guess some guys don't like crazy bitches... Maybe that starts in high school? 

Meanwhile, Christmas is laughing his head off. And taking this picture. 

I'm not sure what is wrong with my eye...

"Seriously?" I say turning around in disbelief. "I can't believe a junior high schooler isn't into this? What junior high school boy doesn't want to give a cute girl a shoulder bump? That guy will help me out!" I say spying some sort of Monk or Priest. What this bearded, black robe clad man wearing a GIANT gold cross around his neck was doing in Dave and Buster's I wasn't quite sure. But given the vows he almost certainly had taken to help the poor and distressed, I figured he was a safe bet. 

"Excuse me sir?" I said planting myself in front of him and starting into my shpeal. Hmmmm, probably shouldn't have mentioned we were betting... The Bible specifically says don't do that. Too late now. Maybe, he'll help me anyway. "Can you give me a shoulder bump?" I asked as I came to the end of the saga.

"Sure!" he says smiling and bumping my shoulder with his. "How many more of these do you need?"

"Just one!"

"Come with me! My niece will help you out." He said with a head nod, leading us through the arcade.

"I"m free! I'm free at last!" I squeal after his niece has bumped my shoulder. "Thank you guys so much!"

After we left the Monk and his arcade loving family, we headed over to play some ski ball (Which I won, thank goodness! I had to redeem myself!)

A few games of ski ball, some speed racer driving game that I was atrocious at, we decided we had had enough game playing and headed to check out the "prizes". After perusing the high quality items ranging from a Wii that took a gazillion million tickets, to the bouncing balls and expandable back-scratchers that only took a mere 500 tickets, we decided to spend our tickets on a unicorn.

Now, I didn't really want this unicorn, but it seemed really important to Christmas that we leave with something. 

"I hate to take your tickets." I said. "You should keep them and then next time you're here you could get something that you actually want."

"No, it's fine! Tickets are for spending. Hopefully, you'll look at this and remember a fun time."

"I'm sure I will." I said as we left the store. Is it rude to shove this thing in my purse? I feel ridiculous carrying a stuffed unicorn! Just carry it to the car Crigger! He did a nice thing!

Back at my house, I said, "Well, do you want to come in and hang out for awhile? Or are you ready to call it a night?"

"I can hang out for awhile."

"Alright. Want a beer or a bourbon?" I asked as we walked into the kitchen.

"I'd take a water. I should probably stop drinking since I will have to drive at some point."

"Okay." I said pouring him a water.
I hand him the glass and he takes a long, slow drink.

"Geeze, timing just sucks." He said clenching the glass.

"Ummm... how so?" I asked, confused.

"Well, I've kind of started seeing someone. And it isn't that I'm not attracted to you, because I am. It's just timing."

"Oh." I literally said Oh. It was like I had been lifted up out of my body and couldn't form real words. 

"You're really great. And I do like you. And tonight was really fun."

What the heck is happening right now? If you are seeing someone exclusively then we should never have gone out. And if it isn't exclusive, what does that person have to do with me, because I, for one, was just on a great date. Were you not on that date? Did we go on two different dates together. And, by the way, damn straight I'm great! Clearly too great for you, idiot! 

These were all things that ran through my head in the 10 second pause I used to pick myself off the floor.
Did I say any of these things?
No.  

Instead I went with this gem: "It's all about timing. Everything in life is."

Seriously, Crigger. Pull it together. Not that timing isn't important, but geeze!

"Ugh, sometimes I hate being so honest." He said dropping his forehead into his palm

Excuse me? What does that even mean? I believe what you mean is that you are honestly, kinda cheating on someone right now if you feel the need to have this discussion with me!

"Honesty isn't a bad thing." I say awkwardly, as if I am trying to make him feel better. 

WHAT?! Great line Socrates. I hear them scratching that one into a stone tablet right now. I'm sure it will be preserved for the ages.

"I would like to have just kept my mouth shut, because I'm really attracted to you."

I think I might vomit. Don't vomit! You just cleaned the floor!

"Ugh, this sucks." He said, stepping forward and giving me weirdly tight hug.

This sucks for you? Oh, I'm sorry. Forgive me because I am pretty sure I'm the one getting dumped by someone I'm not dating after a great second date, where I willing made a fool of myself. Are you for real? Why are you hugging me so tightly? It is like you're trying to memorize me. This is weird. I want you to leave.  I want you to not be touching me. Get. Out. GET. OUT. GETOUTGETOUTGETOUT!!!!!

"Well, um call me when it doesn't work out with that less awesome girl..." I said pushing him towards the door.
"Ugh. I just wish I hadn't been honest."
Why? Do you think if you hadn't had this conversation that we'd be getting wild upstairs right now? 
"Good night." I said opening the door.
Seriously? Did that just happen? Is he for real? Was this some strange dream and I'll wake up very confused tomorrow? I thought as I slammed the door a bit harder than I meant to behind him.

Doubtful. Very doubtful. I thought picking up Martin (named since it was MLK weekend) the Unicorn and walking upstairs to my room.

Well, work is certainly going to be awkward the next time I bump into him on campus. I thought tossing the unicorn into the back of my closet. 

Oh, did I forget to mention that Christmas is my co-worker?

Yep.

#FML

East of the Mississippi and South of the Mason Dixon Line....

"Can we use this chair?" I asked two guys sitting a table over from us at Edley's BBQ.
Hmmm... the one with a little bit of scruff on his face and that curly chestnut hair is kinda cute. He looks kind of familiar. Ehh... You just think everyone looks familiar when you are in a familiar place. 
"Sure. Sure." said scruffy kind of pushing the chair away from the table and towards me with a smile.
"Great! Thanks!" I said dragging the chair way without so much as a backwards glance. "This should be enough right?" I asked Hans returning to the table.
"That's 12? Yeah..." He said counting up the people in our party. "That covers us all."
"We'll all just have to sit big until everyone else gets here." I said dropping my scarf and Laura's purse at opposite ends of the table and looking back over at Scruffy.
"I swear. That guy who gave us the chair looks so familiar to me. But I don't know why."
"Really? Maybe you know him?" said Laura. "Or maybe he just has one of those faces that looks familiar."
"Yeah... Maybe. I kinda think I actually know him though. I'm going to have to go ask. Maybe he went to college with me." I said leaning over to Laura.
"Go ask him!"
"Is that weird? Hey, you look familiar. Do we know each other?"
"I don't think it's weird. But I've never met a stranger so maybe I'm not a good judge of weird."
"Great, now I just look like a stalker because I keep staring." I said as we both laughed and turned back to our table.
"Alright! Let's go order. Brian and Amy can hold down the table." said Hans standing up and starting make his way over to the counter.

Smithfield, the duo we had gone to see perform at a showcase for their new record deal, happen to be friends with Laura and Hans and were sitting at the table when we returned.
I took a seat beside Trey, one part of the duo.
"You guys were really great tonight." I said after I had introduced myself.
"Thanks," he said. "We've had a lot of support along the way and some really great opportunities. I attribute most of our success to the amazing breakfast Hans made for us when we came out to audition originally."
"Yes. I'm sure it had nothing to do with hard work. Merely a solid breakfast."
"Were you at the show?" Jennifer, the other part of the duo asked, as she extended her hand across the table to me.
"Yes. Ya'll were great." I said realizing I get much more country when I'm in the south. "Do you have any of your songs on YouTube or anything? I would love to tell some of my friends about you guys."
"Not really... None of the videos we have are that great. Though I did see Laura taking a bunch of video tonight, so maybe one of those will work!" Trey said nudging Laura.
"Maybe!" She said with a smile.
"You should get some of your stuff out there. It is amazing the cult-like following that can develop around local artists. I know a duo from Eastern Kentucky who basically crowd sourced their early stuff and now they are blowing up. And they were successful largely because they had a fan base that was down right evangelical about them. Don't get me wrong, they are also extremely talented and hardworking! But a little fan support can go a long way!"

As we ate our dinners, casually played along with the Trivia game happening in the restaurant, and told funny childhood stories about building forts, wrecking on bikes, and tricking the little kids into always being it when we played tag, I couldn't shake the feeling that the guy we had gotten the extra chair from was someone I knew.
And because I couldn't shake the feeling I kept staring at him like a creeper, and making at least one additional trip to the bathroom that I didn't really need...

"Are you ready to go?" Laura asked an hour or so later.
"Sure. Just let me go ask that guy if he went to Transy." I said standing up. "I swear he looks like the guy who worked in the Beck Center." I said as I grabbed my purse.

"Excuse me?" I asked stopping by Scruffy's table. "Did you go to Transy?"
"Why yes I did, Ms. Crigger."
"I thought you looked so familiar when I borrowed that chair, but it took me awhile to place you. Why didn't you say something earlier? Your name is Blaine right?"
"Yeah. That's it." He said with a smile. "Do you live in Nashville now?"
"I don't. I'm here for work for a few days. I live in southern California. What are you doing now?"
"Well, I'm an attorney now. I actually just moved back to Nashville a few months ago. I was here for awhile after law school, then took a career opportunity that moved me about for a few years, but now I'm back." he said with smile. "I just couldn't stay away. I like this place too much."
I don't remember him being so chatty in college. But then again I didn't spend a lot of time, or any time actually, talking to him in college. He certainly wasn't this cute in college. Or maybe I just didn't pay attention...
"How long are you in town?" Blaine asked breaking me out of my daydream.
"I'm here for a few more days."
"Great! We should get a drink before you leave and catch up. Are you leaving now?" he asked as Laura walked up beside me.
"Yeah, we are. I have to work early in the morning." Stupid work! "But we should absolutely get a drink before I leave. That would be nice." I said.
"Are you on Linked In?" he asked.
"Yes..."
"Okay! Find me on there and we'll set something up."
Did I really just have someone tell me to find them on Linked In? That is a new one. 

"He's cute." said Laura as we walked to the car. "He went to college with you?"
"Yeah. He was a year behind me. Worked at the fitness center with my friend. But I'm pretty sure that conversation right there is the longest one we've ever had."
"That's funny."
"Yeah, I guess we'll see if we actually get together."

Back in my hotel room I washed my face and was crawling into bed just as my phone buzzed.
Blaine has added you as a contact! My Linked In app flashed briefly on the screen.
Wow, that was fast. I thought as I picked up my phone and opening the Linked In app to accept the contact request. Who uses Linked In instead of Facebook for social things? Kinda odd. Oh well! 
I clicked accept and another notice popped up.
Blaine has sent you a message.
"Mackenzie, it was great to see you tonight. Give me call and we'll grab a drink before you leave. Here's my number XXX-XXX-XXXX" the message read.

Copying the number into my contacts I quickly typed out a text.
"Hey Blaine! It was great to see you as well. I'm leaving Wednesday afternoon, but I'm free tomorrow night if that works for you."
His nearly instant reply back read, "Tomorrow is actually my birthday and I'm supposed to go to my friend's house for dinner. You're welcome to come."
"Well, I don't want to cramp your birthday style. I'm supposed to meet my friend Laura for dinner anyway."
"Well, I'm free right now...? But you probably have to work early tomorrow."
"I do. And I literally just got in bed."
"Well, why don't you give me a shout when your free tomorrow and maybe we can grab a late drink."
"Sounds goof."
"Good*"
"Incidentally, I thought you looked really cute tonight."
"Thanks. That is flattering." I really should have hung out with the KAs more in college. "Alright, I'm off to bed. Night night!"
"Sleep well."

The next day Blaine and I texted through out the day and made tentative plans to meet up after I had dinner with Laura and Hans if his party was still going on. When I called him at 9:30, the party was winding down, it was a work night after all. But he suggested grabbing a drink in his neighborhood, which was close to where Laura, Hans and I had dinner.

I met Blaine at his apartment and had a quick tour.
"Well, this is it! Would you like a drink?" he asked.
"Bourbon?"
"Of course."
"Then, certainly. I'm going to use your restroom quickly." I said as my heels clicked down the hardwood hallway.

"Thanks." I said as he handed me my bourbon.
"Let's go sit down." Blaine said nodding towards the living room and letting me lead the way.
"What are you doing over there?" He asked walking over and taking my hand, pulling me from the chair to the couch.
"I don't know... Sitting?" I asked as I sat down beside him on the couch.
"This is better." Blaine said as he put an arm around my shoulders.
"Yes." I said relaxing against his side. "So, what has been going on since your days at the Beck Center and Transy?"
"Oh you know... Law school. Working. Normal stuff. What about you?"
"Oh you know... moving around the world. Studying a profession I never thought people who pay me to actually do. Not normal stuff."
"Yeah, you weren't one for normal. I can remember in college, when you came around we were all on our best behavior."
"Ahhh, well you probably remember Super Serious Sorority President Crigger. I spent a year being terrified that something horrible was going to happen to someone and it was going to be my fault."
"Now it all makes sense."
"So why did you end up back in Nashville?" I asked taking a sip of bourbon. "Oh, Basil Hayden's. That's nice."
"Nashville is just a really easy place to live. It is the south, but not too slow. There is plenty going on. And I have a lot of friends here."
"Nashville is great. I would love to live here."
"You should move."
"Well, if you know of someone who is hiring a sustainability manager. Or you know someone who is independently wealthy and wants to pay me to hang out in Nashville, you let me know."
"Alright. I'll do that." He said leaning in and kissing me lightly on the lips.

Blaine and I continued to talk about college, post-college lives, work, good bourbon, perks of a southern accent in So-Cal.
"The one and only reason I don't want to leave California for the South is I'll no longer be the girl with the cute accent."
"I think you'll do just fine." Blaine said.
"Well, its getting late. My cab just texted they were close. I should go downstairs." I said looking at my phone.
"We should hang out again when your back East of the Mississippi. When will that be?"
"Probably not until December."
"Well, let me know. It was really fun spending time with you."
"I'll keep you posted." I said as we walked out the door.

With a kiss on the cheek and wave over my shoulder I climbed into the cab.
I have go to get back to the south!
Southern men just get it. 
Or at least they get me.

Intriguing

I met Nathaniel when he called and scheduled a meeting with me at work. During our initial meeting I sussed out pretty quickly that his company probably wasn't going to be able to help me much, and that was fine, because so was he. I make it a pretty firm rule to not date anyone with whom I'm doing business. He took the "thanks, but no thanks" like champ, and that isn't always the case. He even followed up with an email letting me know how the restaurant I had recommended turned out.

That email spawned about a week's worth of flirty emails back and forth and eventually a happy hour invite with the promise to call me to sort out the details. True to his word, he called me that night and after a fun and flirty phone call we settled on drinks at a bar I love in my old neighborhood in Santa Ana. It had somehow become a running joke about getting him to venture out of Laguna. 

The day of our happy hour date he texted to say he needed to cancel because he had to go to LA for work. I texted back, "That's fine and completely understandable. Another time."

Over the next week a few hap-hazard attempts were made to reschedule, but it never worked out and I kind of forgot about him.

A few weeks later, I ran into him at an event where I was serving as one of the panelists. I managed a quick wave, but was literally surrounded by people who wanted to talk to me (Now I know how Lady Gaga feels...), so I couldn't actually talk to him.

Oh well. 

That brief run-in spawned another round of flirty emails.
Here we go again. A lot of build up, and little to no follow through. I thought as I typed another coy line.

It was in one of these emails that I mentioned I was having people over for Memorial Day and he was welcomed to come.
He said thanks, but he would be in San Francisco most of the weekend.
So that was that.
Handsome.
Successful.
In my field, but not a direct competitor.
And, never gonna happen.
Dang it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As I headed back to my house on Sunday of of Memorial Day Weekend my phone rang. Glancing down, not recognizing the number, but being concerned that a work project wasn't going as planned, (nothing was on this project) I answered.
"Hello, this is Mackenzie."
"Wow. Someone is formal." said Nate with a laugh.
"Oh! Hey! This isn't your usual number... I thought you were going to be a guy from work calling to ruin my day by telling me something awful had happened on a project."
"Nope. I'm calling from my personal phone. I am just getting back to the OC and I was going to see if the party plans were still going."
"They are indeed. I'm on my way home right now to start drinking. The party will probably kick off in a few hours."
"Great! I'll try to come by. I'm supposed to hang out with a few friends."
"Well, they are welcomed to comes as well. The more the merrier!" I said hanging up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Around 10:30 that night Nate and his three friends showed up on my doorstep to a party that was going full force. We had made our way in from the beach and we were just setting up drinking Jenga and eating the last of the open bag of marshmallows. I had nearly given up that he was coming, despite his text messages to the contrary, so when he walked in, I was pleasantly surprised.

We spent the rest of the evening congregated in the kitchen alternatively sitting on bar stools, leaning against cabinets and perching on counters as our friends slowly mixed.
It was nice. And it never occurred to me to brush my beach bonfire wind blown hair, or change out of my sandy leggings and v-necked shirt.

Eventually, the party thinned out with people claiming couches, calling cabs, or staggering to the local bars. I hugged Nate, and told him to give me a call and we'd hang out again.
But once again I didn't really know whether or not expect his call.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Imagine my surprise when he called the next day to say thanks for including him and his friends in the festivities and also to invite me over to his house in Laguna Beach to watch the new season of Arrested Development. At this point I still had a few hung over stragglers in my apartment, so I told him I'd have to let him know and went back to watching Arrested Development with Jesse.

Eventually, Jesse left and I called Nate to tell him I was free for the rest of the day if the offer was still open.
"Come on over! I'm just hanging out. I'll text you my address."
"Sounds good. See you soon." I said hanging up the phone and hopping in the shower.

I brushed on a little make up, half dried my hair so it had a nice wave to it, but didn't look like I was trying too hard, and slipped on a pair of skinny black jeans and a striped top.
Perfectly casual I thought, slipping on flip-slops and grabbing my leather jacket in case it was cold that evening.

"I know you don't like vodka, and that's pretty much all I have." said Nate after he'd given me a tour of his apartment.
"No worries, I brought a bottle of wine." I said pulling it out of my purse. "Do you have glasses."
"Yep." he said reaching to take the bottle from me and opening it. "They are just behind you. Can you grab them."
"Sure." I said opening the door to the cabinet.
"How far along in Arrested are you?"
"Pretty far... It is so much funnier now that I live here. I can't stop watching it!"
"Want to watch some?"
"Of course! That's why I'm here. It has nothing to do with the company." I said with a wink over my shoulder as I led the way into the living room.

Dang it!  I should have let him lead the way. Now I have to figure out where to sit. If I sit in the chair, that kind of says don't sit near me. But if I sit on the couch, maybe that says something too. Maybe this doesn't even matter and we really are just buddies who like the same TV shows...

"Ahhh... watching Mad Men?" I said sitting down on the couch.
"Yep. Nearly finished with the episode. Do you mind?" He said taking the chair.
"Nope. Not at all. I watched it this morning with the hung-over crowd. It's a good one."

Three episodes of Arrested Development later we decided it was time for dinner and walked down the street to a restaurant with a great outdoor patio overlooking the ocean.
"Let's walk down to that little view point first before we go in." Nate said motioning about 50 feet on down the sidewalk.
"Is that where you are going to kill me and toss my body into the ocean."
"I figured I'd let you eat first."
"That's nice of you." I said stepping into the gazebo set up at the view point. "Its so gorgeous here." I said as we took in the last of the sunset.
"Yeah. I try to walk down here and  to the boardwalk everyday. If I don't I feel like I'm missing something."
"I know what you mean. If I don't at least see the ocean everyday I feel like I'm not taking advantage of where I live!" I said smiling up at him.
"Yeah..." he said, trailing off as an Indian couple walked into the gazebo. "Ready to head to the restaurant?"
"Sure." I said following him up the short path to the restaurant patio.

We ordered drinks and food and settled in under the heaters with the waves crashing down below.
"Are you warm enough?" he asked reaching over and rubbing my arm.
"Oh yeah. I'm fine. My jacket is warm, despite the run in with Wolverine." I said raising my arm to show him the tears in the fabric that were the result of an unfortunate fight I had with a moving walk-way in Vegas.
"How did that happen?" Nate asked wide-eyed.
"It was mostly karma biting me in the bum." I said launching into a story that makes me sound evil.
"You are horrible." he said with a laugh. "I hope I'm never in a wheel chair and depending on you for help!"
"I know! I know! I told you the story makes me sound like a horrible human!" I wailed.

We talked on about our families, how we ended up doing what we are doing, cities we love, wedding toasts we have given, worst jobs we've had, and the time just flew by.

"Not that I wasn't before, but I am even more intrigued by you after hearing all your stories." Nate said as we waited for the check.
"That is one of the most flattering things I've ever been told." I said smiling. He's either extremely honest, or extremely smooth, but regardless, that is extremely flattering. 
"Let's go down to Nick's. They have a great Moscow Mule and I owe you one since I never met you for Happy Hour at the place in Santa Ana." He said standing up.
"Yes, you do! But I bet their Moscow Mule isn't as good as Chapter One's! A guy with a handlebar mustache makes it for there, and that makes all the difference!"

We headed down the boardwalk and kept chatting the whole way. There weren't any awkward pauses with us trying to fill the silence. It was easy, and fun.

Arriving at Nick's, Nate ordered us two Moscow Mules and we continued on the date that I wasn't initially sure was a date, but we pretty sure now it was since he bought my dinner.

An hour later we finished our Moscow Mules and decided to head back to his house since it was getting late and we both had to work the next day. Walking back along the virtually deserted boardwalk Nate pulled me to stop and turned to face me.

"I'm not sure this is the right place to do this, but... what the hell." he said putting one hand on my cheek and bending down to kiss me.
Yes... kissing me on the boardwalk in Laguna Beach is clearly the wrong place. If this is the wrong place, I'm not sure where the right place is? A canal in Venice? Under the Eiffel Tower? On the back of an elephant in India? Hmmmm... he's a pretty good kisser.

We continued to kiss on the boardwalk, his hands getting tangled in my hair, for a few more minutes. I could hear footsteps passing us on the boardwalk and a couple out walking their dog. It never occurred to me tone down our PDA, and I am not one for PDAs.

Eventually, we stopped kissing and continued our walk back to Nate's house hand in hand.
"Well... I'll see you later." I said digging in my purse for my car keys.
"Wait. You can't leave. We still have the final episode of Arrested Development to watch!"
"It's late... and you have to work early and so do I."
"It's one episode."
"I'm so sleepy though. I'll fall asleep."
"Come on. One more episode. You know you want to know what happens." Nate said pulling me gently toward the stairs.
"Ok. Fine. But if I fall asleep its your fault."

True to my word, I fell asleep and woke up to the Arrested Development theme song being played and my head resting on Nate's chest.
"I have to go home." I said softly to Nate who was also asleep.
"No you don't. Just sleep here." he muttered hugging me and kissing my forehead.
"I can't sleep here. I don't have pajamas. And I'm not sleeping in these jeans. They have like a million zippers." I said sitting up.
"OK... Fine... I"ll walk you out." Nate said standing up and stretching. "But you really can stay here. I'll sleep on the couch."
"That's a nice offer. But I need to go home." I said putting on my jacket.

Nate kissed me again as he opened my car door, and waved me out of his drive.
As I drove down PCH I wondered, Could I date him? Yes. I decided. I definitely could. Would he date me? Will this go anywhere? Or will it be like my other amazing date in Laguna that went no where fast?