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Yeah, I watched Sex in the City. Not first run, ’cause I don’t have cable, but in reruns. One of the episodes that made an impression on me is when Carrie was hired to teach a Learning Annex class on where to meet men. Hundreds of women show up, and of course she has nothing new or insightful to tell them. I can relate to the women in that audience in a way that I never could to the 4 characters on the show. They represented the real single women of Manhattan. They didn’t have thousands of dollars to spend on designer clothes and shoes and bags and they didn’t get invited to trendy night club openings. But they were there, trying, willing to try anything, even willing to shell out a few bucks and humiliate themselves by showing up at a Learning Annex class because they were tired of being single. They didn’t see single-ness as a great adventure, to be chronicled in a weekly column or blogged about. They were lonely.
For our second date he asked me out to dinner, in his neighborhood, a long subway ride away from my apartment and an exorbitently expensive nighttime cab ride home. It seemed pretty clear to me that he was thinking I’d spend the night at his place.
I accepted his invitation but I promised myself and made a big show of saying to my friends that there was no way in hell that I was going back to his place after dinner. And then, of course, I did go back to his place after dinner. And I spent the night. And, yeah, the sex was amazing.
That’s probably why I put up with him for so long and why he bothered to pretend that he wanted more than to just get laid. There’s something to be said for knowing that no matter what, your sex life rocks. Then again, I eventually ended it. Great sex is good, but it’s not everything.
So last night was my third date with necking guy. For those of you who are just reading this blog for the first time, here’s the quick info on necking guy – good first date: fun, smart, interesting, cute (in a white bread kind of way that I don’t usually go for, but I’m trying to broaden my horizons), a little touchy and a quick kiss but all pretty innocent and sweet. Maybe too sweet. I kind of expected him to say, “Aw, shucks”.
Writing in response to my Circling Back Around entry a few days back, cjwss suggested that I come up with some kind of hierarchy of categories, as right now I am assessing every guy I go out with as an applicant for future life partner status.
So first, some clarification from me. I absolutely am looking at each date as a potential life partner. I do not want to waste another night/week/month/year of my life with a guy who might be perfectly nice, might be great in bed, might be funny (add in whatever other positive attributes you like) but in the end is not ever going to turn into a real bf or significant LTR. I AM OLD. I REPEAT, I AM OLD. And I’m tired of sleeping alone. I know, from experience that I am happier when I have a partner. I am looking for someone to be a partner for a long haul, maybe not the long haul (not too sure I believe in the whole happily ever after thing) but a good long time. I am not desperate. My biological clock isn’t driving me nuts. I do not waste countless hours wishing I had a guy and dreaming about my perfect man and imagining my fantasy wedding. I know that according to the media that I am supposed to be and do all of those things, but that’s not me. Not even a little. I just know what I want, what’s going to make me happiest at this point in my life and I’m willing to put in a little effort towards finding it. I know most people believe that you can’t look for love, and that might very well be true, but I’m certainly not going to find it sitting alone in my apartment with a good book (which is probably what I’d be doing most of those nights if I wasn’t dating).
I have gone through long stretches of time where my head was in other things (usually work) and I was perfectly happy to have the not-serious bf who I knew was never going to turn into anything. And as I have written about before, I have had, and still have fuckbuddies for when I am in between relationships.
I guess what I’m saying is that I’ve always had that hierarchy. It’s existed in my life for as long as I can remember. There are the 1s (fuckbuddies) who are good for sex and short conversation and would never get to spend the night, not in a million years. There are the 2s (guys I’ve dated knowing full well it was never going to turn into anything) who might be fun for dinner, movies or parties, in addition to sex, and heck they can stay the night if they don’t snore too much. Then there are the 3s. The 1s and the 2s are easy to find, especially in NYC. Not so with the 3s. The 3s are the guys you take home to your family, who help you fix your broken furniture, who keep you warm on cold nights.
I don’t care how many dates I have to go on to find one, that’s what I want, one of those elusive 3s. I’ve had my fill of the others for now. Maybe I’ll change my mind sometime in the future if my current search continues to go poorly. Who knows? But for now I’m sticking to my guns. 3 or nothing at all.
It was 18 years ago, but I still remember the conversation vividly because of some pretty big life stuff that happened in the weeks that followed. I was 20 yrs old, hanging out with one of my friends in her apartment, talking about the new guy in my life. She asked me his last name. I told her I didn’t know it, and what’s more, it seemed like an odd question to me. “Last name, why would I care about a guy’s last name?” She got rather huffy with me and said, “Look, ___, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be sleeping with some guy if you don’t even know his last name.” I laughed at her and said something about there not being much sleep involved.
I can’t imagine living somewhere that didn’t have seasons. I love it when the leaves change colors. I love the cool spring nights. I love the snow. I even love the sticky New York summers, when I need to hang out by the river to stay cool.
But I do hate how cold the mornings are in the winter. These last couple of weeks have been the first really cold weeks. Each day, I pull my covers around myself tightly as my alarm goes off in the morning and think, “damn, I hate waking up alone”. ‘Cause you see, someone lying next to me, cuddling, would keep me warm. That’s not the only thing that someone would be good for, mind you, but with the mornings as cold as they are, that’s what I’m thinking about first.