What I'm Thinking

He was looking at me, studying my face. I had just opened my eyes. It was morning (sort of) and we'd only gotten to sleep at 5am. 

I looked back at him for what felt like 20 minutes.

"What's up?" I asked, groggy. 

"Just wondering what you're thinking." He replied, keeping his eyes on mine. 

We looked at each other again. I had just spent two days with this person, taking only a few hours off at a time to do human things, but then only to go back to his bed and exist as a red-hot band of nuclear energy that kicks in when a relationship is in the throws of infancy. I felt the temperature rise in my chest again. 

I recalled the first symptoms of a new relationship: the absolute mind-crushing feeling of desire for one person. To have my entire day altered when I see them; to think about them constantly; to wish, with every piece of me, to be able to push them into me, hold them against my chest and breathe them in. The feeling is mind numbing. I can suddenly spend days doing nothing but lying in bed naked and talking about inside jokes and shared experiences. Plans I made get dimmer and priorities are not so important. I can lightly brush through life knowing someone, not so far away, is waiting for me somewhere and when he sees me will make me his universe, worshipping me and all my flaws. 

I was staring back at The Musician on the bed. Tired. Exhilarated. And a surprised at how quickly everything is escalating. This guy is pretty damn great, and getting better and better each week. I didn't think I'd get into a relationship. I assumed I'd keep meeting more Tom, Dick and Harry's for a while. And everyday that goes by spent in his arms means less and less time spent on what any of the other boys must feel like. 

I tried to convey all of that with my eyes, but instead leaned in and kissed his neck. 

"I'm thinking coffee and breakfast." I hummed from between my pursed lips, my thoughts fading into a fuzzy background noise. 

Complicated

C - Confusing. I like you! You're sweet, you listen to me, you're patient, you want to see me more, you're honest and I'm not ready to commit.

O - The "Oh, Shit." factor that happened last night when blast from the not-too-distant past, Mr. Kiss, texts me again.

M - Man, I want to have sex like that again... Mr. Kiss is flakey, a stereotypic hot-guy who repeats himself several times ("because you haven't heard that story yet, right?") and is one helluvah hot piece of ass.

P - Pausing, because I really like the Musician. He's sweet, he listens to me without any kind of "shut up, lets fuck" attitude, he's patient, and really smart. He's also not the tall, chestnut-haired prince charming.

L - Love is what I'm after. I want to love someone, desperately. And I could, if I wanted. Yet, I keep thinking of all the men who are seemingly coming out of no where, and I pause the "L" button. Example: The Friend who recently revealed he wanted to sleep with me. "YOU DO?! I guess... I could do that. Maybe. If I'm drunk and single and we're hanging out... but, I'm not attracted to you. Or am I?"

I - I'm single. I'm not emotionally. I'd feel really, really bad if I acted on an impulse and didn't tell the Musician. My friends tell me that unless we've decided that we're officially seeing each other exclusively I'm off the hook, but that doesn't mean that's a Get-Out-Of-Jail-Free card.

C- Considering my options. Because behind "Door Number 4" is the College Buddy who made out with me on my bed a few weeks ago and wants to casually sleep with me. "I'm a really good kisser, like, really, really good. And I love to go down on women. We'd have fun. No strings."

A- All of them are cute. All of them are worth considering. I'm at the point where, hell, I could sleep with them all, right? Take a chance on a college buddy I would never slept with when I was 20, a friend I never considered, an old lover I've been hoping would reach out again, and a guy I'm getting more and more comfortable with.

T - Totally loving this attention, but trying to play my cards right. Honesty is the best policy. Or is it? I'm learning, here. Being 25 has given me a sense of duty to adulthood, and adults (mature ones anyway) act on the healthiest options for everyone involved because that's the right thing to do.

E - Even if I called off everything with everyone and just chose one guy, whoever that be, would that be the right call? Mr. Kiss would probably flake on me again (the old "radio silence" never-got-your-text bullshit he's pulled in the past). Or, I start dating someone: The College Buddy, The Friend, The Musician... and even with a big fat "TAKEN" sign on my forehead I'd get surreptitious texts at 2am from other "TAKEN" guys who feel like their drunkenness is an excuse for telling me they want me to sleep over.

D- Despite the complications, I'm loving the attention. It's ego boosting. However, I'm in no way looking to hurt anyone, because I've been burned in the past and wouldn't want to inflict that pain on someone else (My ex, Serendipity, whose send off was: "I slept with someone else while you were in Thailand because I thought we had come to a 'break' in our relationship." coming into sharp focus, here). Don't know what I'll do, trying to stay in the moment as much as possible. I'm going to call a few girlfriends and get their advice. I don't have enough women in the mix.

The blip-blop scoobity doo-da walla walla ding dong

What does it mean to be "dating" someone versus "seeing" someone versus having a "boyfriend"?

Where does one draw a line and declare that something is indeed happening with someone? There is no definitive word that can describe it all and one is left using a lot of vague hand gestures and facial expressions (usually involving a shrug) to try and give an idea about the complicated nature of what's going on on a daily basis with another person. Who happens to be male. And not just a friend.

I'm single.
I'm single?
Wait... am I single?

So, single means I am a free agent. A gal who can look a guy in the eye and say "let's do this" and not feel a shred of remorse about hurting anyone else's feelings by making that choice.

And, therefore, by default, not being single means the opposite.

BUT WAIT! I don't have a boyfriend! Therefore: no relationship! HA!

Nope: Single.
No... I'm... not single.
Wait...

I feel a fear grip me in this regard. On the one hand: this complicated jumble of emotions toward another human being who also has complicated (or not) emotions toward me is exactly what I've wanted! And on the other hand: I'm still thinking with a single-gal brain! "He's hot." and "I'll do you, once I'm drunk, though." and "Can't wait to flirt the hell out of the room." All fly through my mind. I've also got: "You'll hurt him." and "He'll let you down, eventually." whizzing in my brain as well. Ouch.

My Mother told me to relax and live in the moment. "Enjoy yourself. Let it just be and have fun." She said, scrolling through his Facebook profile pictures and exclaiming: "He's Cute, Nat!" I felt myself relax a bit. She's right. I'm trying to define a thing that's a thing without a definition or name.

For now: I'm in a "blip-blop scoobity doo-da walla walla ding dong," with The Musician.

I don't know where it's going, but *shrug* I'm enjoying myself.

Step A to D: A Stab at Success

In a recent conversation with my gym buddy, a "step-by-step" dating game system came into view for me. I can only write from the female perspective here, but here's a rough idea of what I feel the levels of dating are, and once realized, I came to the conclusion that there is a recipe for success (reaching Step C or D).

Step A: The introductory/friendly step. It's the step where we just chat at the bar after an event. We see each other at the gym. We hang out occasionally in groups. We chit-chat and gossip. That's it.

Step B: That's were we know each other better. We flirt. We hang out one on one. We surreptitiously graze each other with body parts. We make eye contact longer than necessary.

Step C: Can be anything physical. I think Step C involves a whole lot of letting the body "do the talking."

Step D: (if there is one) is the relationship status change on facebook. Yep. We're dating. Exclusively.

Reaching your desired Step is not overly complicated. If success were defined as the level you wanted to reach with a girl you're interested in it's important to note this procedure:

Do NOT have an obvious agenda. Don't. There is no A leads to B leads to C, here. It's really a matter of: "I'm fine with staying at Step A, however you want to define it. And I am not pushing for step B at all, in fact, you'd think I wouldn't even have thought there was a step B." And then you act super-duper busy and relaxed.

I think chicks love that shit. I know I subconsciously do.

Patience is an absolute. If interested in a girl, it's important to note that the female in question can probably pick up what your intentions are. And there are a whole lot of guys out there that seem to think they're giving off the "I'm a nice guy" vibe and are really walking around with a glaringly obvious "I want to do a Step C with you, so, so bad!" Plus, "Nice guys"? Who the hell are they, really?

Why are women seemingly attracted to the dicks? Because jerks are pretty damn good at staying at one level for a really long time. Like, the infuriating Step B level. If a hot guy I'm interested in stays at Step B for a long time: I'm Ga-Ga for him. Or, if a guy gets to Step C with me, then goes back to Step B and leaves me wondering when the hell I'll ever hear from him and do Step C again; then I'm really hooked. It's in those instances I start to imagine Step D with said guy.

When I get approached by a "nice" guy who really wants to hear everything I have to say and is super attentive I'll treat them with a Step A attitude. Step A only. When I feel them move into Step B seemingly quickly, I'm thinking: No fucking way. But, a "nice" guy who stays in Step A at all times? Who is sweet to me and is a great friend, but I don't feel threatened by or in any way like we're moving toward something? Suddenly, he's in Step B category, and then I'm jumping us into Step D in my mind.

Complicated? Yeah. Dating is.

Kismet: Part 2

I had a conversation with a friend a little while ago about the difference in the sexes and how they quantify the passing of time. A woman, in my opinion, can agonize and feel like a year will pass in five minutes. A Man? (although I am not one, so I can't say for certain) seems to think that a month is like, 3 weeks which is like, only a few days, which is like, really just a few hours, so, it wasn't that long since we were last in contact, right?

A woman will think: I haven't heard from him in two days, I guess we're done. Whatever. I didn't like him that much anyway! I'm moving on. I'm going to look at every hottie I come across and imagine making out with them and hope that somehow the guy I am trying NOT to think about will somehow feel a disturbance in the "force" and will somehow remember to text me and see me again, and then I'll tell him how much of a bum he is when he comes crawling back on his hands and knees (which will be the ONLY way I will every think of seeing him again!!)

A man will think: (I don't really know) Blah blah blah blah blah. I'm just doing the task at hand. My mind is really not that complicated, but is only made complicated by the female lens you put over it. Wait. When was the last time I had sex? Mmmm. Sex. What was the name of that cute girl I saw a few hours ago? Oh, I should text her! Yeah! What a great idea!

Woman will get the text from the man. Crap. He wants to hang out. pshhht. Man, who? I wasn't thinking about him... Okay, I was. But, when I see him, I'm gonna expect him to be super apologetic and sad about going so long without seeing me.

Man shows up at date. Blah. Blah. Blah. I'm a guy. Oh! Pretty girl! I like her.

Woman thinks: He's so cute. Fine. I forgive you. I won't tell you any of the agony I just went through the last month, nor will I correct you when you say it's only been a whole week. I'll let it go, because I am benevolent. I am forgiving. I like you more than you know. Or maybe you do know?

...Just, don't let another month go by, please? I don't want to be the annoying nag, here, but I'm confused. In my universe, if a week goes by: I write you off. If a month goes by: I assume you're probably dead. And then, I decide to go off and explore my options. Unfortunately, I am such a sucker for cuties that I'll let it slide if you reach out after a while. Although, here's the new question forming in my mind: I've seen you a few times now over the course of two months... so, like, is this going somewhere?

Man thinks: ................?

Monogamy in Singledom

I had a conversation with my best friend the other night and we both agreed that we were monogamous types, even if the person we are seeing is not in the category of "relationship." I thought this was an interesting character choice given that there are no guide lines to being single and there are, technically, no rules that say you are cheating if you sleep with someone else or date someone else while seeing someone semi-regularly.

I find "swinging" from one person to the next and then back again as something I don't think I could have the heart to do. I know a lot of people who have done it, and I don't judge them, but I look at the idea of seeing a person as my "moment" in my life where I am feeling that guy out. I am testing the waters, understanding what little I can make out from them, and then: moving on. Oh, and also: the people who can swing are pretty unbelievable with their luck sometimes. How can you find several hotties all at once who want to sleep with you? I guess I'm super picky, but I have never been in that situation where I simply can't keep my hands off of everyone I meet. Then again, I haven't spent a lot of time in Amsterdam, but from the few days I have, I may run into that problem (DAMN those men are GORGEOUS!)

The biggest hurdle I come across is how easily I fall for a guy once I've seen him more than twice. Suddenly I imagine what a future with this person would feel like and I place them in different scenarios (like: Travel) and decide whether or not, based on the knowledge I have of them, if I would like to spend that time doing those activities with them. If not, well, thanks for the romp, and breakfast was great!

Every time I meet someone new I am that much more knowledgeable about what I like and dislike in a partner. I am introduced to a new personality, a new background, new emotional baggage (or lack of emotional-anything), and... all else pertaining to a man. So, whenever I decide I am over someone and it is time to move on, and I do, I can't go back to that other person and still expect the relationship I had with them to be the same. It just won't be. So I don't.

I've decided in the last meeting with Kismet that if he wants this to go further, he'll need to text me and make the effort to see me again. I haven't heard from him in over a week and at this point: I'm moving forward. Womp Womp. Onward!

The Fine Line

I am grappling with the "fine line" or, the time frame best suited when I can tell myself that, yes, I am dating someone. My understanding is that there is a moment when you are both on the same page and one person may just come out and state that they want to be exclusive with their partner. Then the relationship can go from causal to "Fo' Real."

I have an uncanny ability to jump to "Fo' Real-zies" pretty quickly, and then, upon second thought, jump back to "What the fuck? Who are you really?" once I realize that they were not the person I thought I was causally seeing when we were meeting up once a week. Like, for instance, that person may be really secretive about how much they really like to sleep in in the mornings and how lazy they want to be on their times off. I have no problem with that, except I am a pretty bouncy person who wants to be active so that doesn't jive with me so well. Or, when a person one starts to really date begins to unload all their emotional baggage the minute the door shuts and one realizes that the calm and collected person they thought they knew is actually a wreck behind closed doors. Etc.

I'm a pretty big romantic and I think I fall hard for just about anybody I wind up seeing more that three times. This time, however, with Kismet (I've now seen him 3 times) I'm going to take a more steady and inquisitive track: Let's hang out outside of the bedroom and see how we do when sex isn't the only entree on the table. I invited him out to see a museum. I know that for many people this would be the opposite way to approach dating. I feel like the "good girl" in me would be horrified to know that I had spent a couple nights sleeping over at a guy's apartment before even considering getting to that second or third date before "putting out". Please. This is 2012. I don't need to wear a skirt and I don't need to be chaste.

I think Kismet and I are making strides toward something definable. Any time I hang out with a person and we make future plans to see each other again is a pretty solid reason to believe that maybe we are working toward that "fine line" of definition.

Who knows? I am enjoying myself and I plan to continue to do so.

Whiney The Poo

There are many types of people in the world: The Pessimist, The Optimist, The Realist, The Asshole, etc. Being that I am an incredibly opinionated person with a penchant for quick judgement, I am especially annoyed by: The Guy Who Has No Time For Anything, Ever. I'll call him the TGWHNTFAE or, for short: Whiney the Poo.

Whiney the Poo is quite the entertainer with all his stories of just how busy he is. He even made a joke when we sat down for dinner about how long it took for him to even get this evening free. He loves to talk about his job, and the funny cat posters that adorn his office walls. He'll list off all the emails he answered today and go into details, that are far too gory, regarding the strange looking stain he spotted on his boss' tie. Oh, Whiney the Poo just loves to pontificate on all the important strides he's making toward his career. He's even picked up a new hobby on his new iPhone were he flicks a digital paper ball into a digital garbage can whenever he's waiting for an especially large PDF file to get sent to the "big wigs in London."

Whiney the Poo hates his mother, feels like he never got enough love. He's totally paranoid that his outfit doesn't fit right because Jeremy, at work, got a new power suit that makes Whiney the Poo feel like Poo-Poo. Boo Hoo. Poor Poo.

Whiney insists on paying for dinner after he's finished off his third Tanqueray and Tonic and polished off the last of my bourbon after ordering the 2nd round I didn't want. He's all about being the big guy! However, as soon as Whiney the Poo steps out of the overly decorated, tasteless restaurant somewhere in midtown that we paid way too much to eat in, he'll whip out his fancy phone and, after staring at it for a couple minutes too long, declare that he can't believe the idiots running his office when he's not there.

So, so sorry! He'll say when he realizes that I really meant it when I said I needed to head home. Couldn't he just walk me to the subway that also happens to be in front of his apartment building? It's only 18 block away? And when I insist that, oh, I really super duper have to wake up at 4am after all, he'll lament. Why are the girls in New York so hard to date? Why Why Why? Why can't I get what I want!? I work so hard and all I want is a nice girl I can see! Couldn't you be that nice girl for me? I do everything for everybody all the time and I just want a break! C'mon. Gimme a piece. Gimme a break of that fine, sweet, pus-pers-personality!

To which, I stare, confirming my deep, deep dislike of the work-a-holic, whiney, self conflicted, lost souls who feel they can shove around a couple hours in order to schedule a time to get laid and say: "I have to go. Thanks for dinner. And the stain on your boss' tie sounds like it was butternut squash soup." And I'll turn on my heel and walk away. Fuggetaboutit, Whiney the Poo, you're just full of Shit.

A How To Guide For Bagging Your Hottie

The Dating Game For Singles: How To Bag Your Hottie.

Step 1: You're both at a function of some sort: party, bar, birthday, fundraiser, etc. It's important to put yourself "out there." Being home all the time is pretty difficult to meet someone new and fun. Best functions to go to involve your friends inviting friends-of-friends so that if you guys meet you have a bit of a common background (i.e. You know Sarah, too? Cool! How'd you meet? etc.)

Step 2: When at the function you look and feel as best as you can. I know, especially after a break-up, one can feel like a total turd. My sense is that guys/girls totally pick up on that and stay away from your desperate eye contact. So, fake it 'til you make it. Put on a smart, somewhat sexy get-up that makes you feel confident, grab a beer, and stick with your friend group for a bit; laugh a lot, chat, look like you're having a great time.

Step 3: While pretending to listen to your friend talk about which flavor of lip gloss they have on, scope out your choices. This is a great time to select a target. Don't put all your eggs in one basket, try and choose maybe 2 or 3 guys/girls that you'd like to talk to.

Step 4: Approach target Number 3 first. I don't advise going in for the kill on Numero Uno right off the bat. Make some rounds about the room, cover some bases. Guy/Girl #3 may turn out to be eh, okay, but at least you managed to make a trip from the friend group. Keep an eye out for your number 1, odds are they may have noticed you looking in their direction and, therefore, you are on their radar.

Step 5: Find an in. Be creative here. This is the chance when you can make your way over to your number 1. Maybe #1 went to get another beer and you can saddle over and chat with their friends a bit. Nothing better than to be introduced through their friends "Tina, this is Josh. He's friends with Margot, we just met." Bingo!

Step 6: Begin zeroing in. Chat lightly. Nothing heavy or scary here. Be witty if you can, try not to feel nervous or desperate. You know you still have number 2 flitting around here somewhere so if this doesn't work you can make your way over to someone else. Laugh a lot. Maybe make contact a few times by lightly touching their arm. Make eye contact. Listen, don't let the eye roam unless you know this is not what you want.

Step 7: Go away for a while. Ok. You've made the introduction. You've chatted a bit. Don't smother. Politely make an excuse to bow out and make your way back to your friend group. Maybe grab another drink or see a friend you want to say hello to. Look popular, confident, but not like an asshole.

Step 8: Get your #1 to find you. Be conspicuous. Be open. But, let that person seek you out. Maybe you can try and chat with your #2 a bit here. Dance on the dance floor a little.

Step 9: If #1 finds you, you are on the gravy train. If they don't, make sure you say 'Bye' before leaving, thank them for a nice chat. They may want to talk a bit longer and then you can swap numbers.  Be open to possibilities, though. Try not to be crushed. Always remember there are plenty of fish in the sea.

If you and your number 1 really hit it off, then by all means let that conversation take you where you need to go. Hell, if it's a really great chat maybe you'll get to have a make-out. But, don't expect anything; just be ready for anything.

A Second Helping

I had my second date with Mr. Tall.

Although, I wouldn't call it a date, necessarily, more like (using Mr. Tall's words) "An Adventure".

I met him in Grand Central station by the clock in the middle. I had been running all over the whole day, having just come from an audition (that went really well!!!) so I was on a high from that. He greeted me with a smile and eyes that said: Great! You're here. I can't wait for you to see what I've got up my sleeve!

He took me to the Juniors on the lower level and over a Tuna Melt, a Grilled Cheese and some diet coke we caught up a little as to what we had both been up to the past week and a half. He would look at his cell phone every once in a while and smiling say: Just checking on the time for the train.

Me: Train? Where are we going?

Him: Do you really want to know?

Me: ... No.

We had some time to kill after dinner so with my hand in his (WHAT!? already? I barely know this guy!) we walked through the terminal and up to Campell's apartment, which, Mr. Tall filled me in on, used to be some super-duper rich guys crash pad whenever he came in to the city. Now it's an old fashioned, Mad Men Style saloon featuring a very intricately decorated ceiling and men in white coat-tails who ferry expensive looking cocktails all over the dimly lit, cigarette smoke lacking room. I almost wished there was a way cigarette smoke was available there, the ambiance was so perfect for it, as if, through the theoretical gloom I could have looked over at the bar and seen the Rat Pack all hanging there drinking their Old Fashioned's and talking about Marilyn Monroe.

Mr. Tall's eyes gleamed when he looked up from his cell phone again.

Him: Ok, Let's go catch the train.

Me: Where are we going?

Him: Tarrytown.

Me: What? What's there??

Him: Do you really want to know?

Me: ...No...

Using his dancer like precision I was guided over to the track with a big Metro North Train waiting to take us, I don't know where.

"Do we have tickets?" I asked.

Mr. Tall smiled. "Of course. I already got them."

The train ride was a little less than an hour. Tall and I chatted the whole way about regional dialects and sayings. I laughed a few times at some New York-isms he said he's noticed here (Tall's from Colorado) like "You know what I mean?" and "whuddare ya up to?" I showed him my new headshots and explained the difference between commercial shots and Legit shots.

We pulled in to Tarrytown and Mr. Tall's mischevous smile came back.

Him: Ok. So, do you know anything about Sleep Hollow?

Me: Oh my god. NO WAY.

Him: And a certain legend of Sleep Hollow?

Me: HaHA! Yes! I do!

Him: Good. I found something I think you might like. We just need to get a cab to take us there.

Within 10 minutes we were standing outside the Sleep Hollow Haunted Maze. Mr. Tall had taken me to a haunted house tour.

We were the last group in.

I've been to a haunted house once before in Louisville. My friend David took me after a Dracula show for Halloween. We were also the last group in when we went. The cool thing about being the last group is all the actors who are dressed as ghouls follow you in the end and pick on you the most. I can imagine for some people that would not be ideal. For me, however: BRING IT. I screamed at the top of my lungs for every little thing I could. I laughed and shouted and ran and jumped and clung to Mr. Tall like a rat in a rain storm. The end of the tour was a visit from the Headless Horseman himself, and the scream that came out of me might have curdled milk. It was exhilarating. The production value of that tour was outstanding.

At the end Mr. Tall asked if I enjoyed myself.

Me: Um, YES!

Tall: Good! Me too. I've wanted to come up and do that for a while.

Me: I can't believe you put all this together! Oh my god!

Tall: It was fun.

We looked over ghost stories and "Legends of..." anthologies in the gift shop. We had a little time to kill before the next train. I told Tall about the trip I took to Waverly Hills Sanitorium in Louisville (One of the creepiest places I have ever been). Tall admitted he loved a good ghost story. I said I did in context, when I'm not in the middle of the woods somewhere.

After the cab dropped us back at the train station I found myself dead tired (no pun intended). I leaned into Mr. Tall's chest and rested my head on his shoulder. Oh my god, I thought. We're one of those people. The people I'll see on platforms. The one's that seem as if they are just one being they are so close. Tall's arms circled me with a protective warmth and I closed my eyes for a minute and imagined what this would feel like all the time. Oh, it's so warm and safe...

On the train ride back we were more quiet and reserved. I was getting really tired and had to be up for a film shoot in Connecticut the following morning. Tall noticed the vacant stares.

Him: Look at you. Thinking about what you have to do tomorrow, huh?

Me: ha. Yeah.

Him: Long day?

Me: Yeah.

Him: You can put your head on my shoulder if you want to sleep.

Me: Who are you, and where can I find more of your kind? That offer is very tempting... Thanks, but I'll tough it out. Keep you company on the ride home.

Mr. Tall walked me to the 7 train so I could get back out to Queens. I had a flutter in my chest. What do we do? Kiss? Does he expect something from me? Uh... Why am I so scared? Am I just going to get hurt if I get too involved in this?

A 7 train pulled in as we were entering the station. I wished the train could have waited. I don't exactly know what I wanted to do to Mr. Tall so I turned to wish him good bye and before I had time to think, he pulled me in to a kiss, just for a second, then gently pushed me toward the train. I ran on board and found a seat. He waited across the platform for the 7 to take him to the West Side. I expected the train doors to close and move, like some fairy tale ending to some fairy tale date, but promptly spent a few awkward minutes watching the car doors open and shut as the conductor had a Door-fight with stragglers trying to board the train. Each time the doors opened again I smiled and playfully pretended I didn't see Mr. Tall. He caught my eye several times and smiled back. So much for riding off into the sunset, but this is almost as good... I waved goodbye as the train lurched forward and carried me off to Queens. See you soon, Mr. Tall. I tried to repress a squeal of delight at the thought of that.

A Tall Bourbon, Please. Neat.

I had quite the adventure yesterday, but I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

I met up with Mr. Tall (the guy I had met online at the Upright Citizens Brigade last week) at the Sofia Wine Bar on 50th and 2nd ave. It was a small, dimly lit place, lit by the candles on the tables and sporting a hefty choice of wines to choose from, along with a couple of appetizers to nibble whilst sipping and squinting at your partner across the table. I was fully anticipating the date to go as any online date has gone: just a lot of blah, blah, blah's back and forth, some failed attempts at flirtation and then a quick excuse as to why I need to head home. Not so with Mr. Tall.

He was very curious about me. I had had a very busy day and chattered away about it. We talked about alcohol, and wine and food and family and jobs. I drank my Pinot Grigio rather quickly and promptly began to drop my fork on the floor and knock over a cup of water. It wasn't from nerves so much as exhaustion and tipsiness. What did I have to lose from this guy, though? I wasn't sitting at the table in Sofia for a chance at scoring a homerun that night, and, frankly I am feeling as though my life is moving in the direction I want it to so well, that a boyfriend is not really in my sights either. No pressure.

We finished our appetizers and then made our way over to P.J. Clarke's which is an old fashioned bar on 2nd ave. The place was bustling with business suites and heels. I had the keen realization that I was most definitely the youngest person in the joint. I told Mr. Tall I wanted a bourbon, a Glenlivet (which is actually a Scotch, I've now realized!), neat, please. We sipped our shots by the window and then fell into one of the most engaging conversations I have had in a while.

First off: I was actually looking up at him. And, at P.J.'s there was light to see him by! I could actually read his facial expressions. What a concept! We left the drab "whuddo you doo?" questions behind very rapidly and moved on to crazy, gesticulating, passion driven whoops of "You do that? I DO THAT TOO!" Then the "Oh my god, YES! I feel the same way!" followed by a simultaneous: "ugh, I hate that. *laughter*"

At one point the bar got very crowded. There were people moving past us and shifting us around. Tall put his arms around my waist and pulled me close to avoid being bumped in to. I looked up at him and could only smile. "Here," he said. "Let me be in the way." As he caught my arm and shifted me toward the window, away from all the movement by the bar. I left my hand in his for the remainder of the night.

He walked me back to the subway station, my arm resting on his. I felt like I was being treated like quite the lady. He's a dancer, and would occasionally lead me as if we were in a waltz: "Let's cross here" and I would effortlessly follow. Who knew crossing the street could be so choreographed? I felt my stomach tie in a knot at the thought of what our parting should consist of. There is a strange dilemma that occurs on a date: Do I kiss them good bye? Do I hug? Do I wave? What do I say? "See ya' soon, buddy?" or "Hey, Let me call you..." or "No, thanks. Your place sounds nice, but I really do need to go home" Mr. Tall blithely chatted about New York History and how he liked to explore old houses. I nodded and smiled and let him lead me in the dance down 2nd avenue, wondering what our parting would be.

At the entrance to the train he was suddenly very close to me. "Goodbye, Natalie." He said. "I would really like to do this again, Tall." I blurted. Yes. I would. "Great. Me too." He answered. I kissed him very quickly, then pulled back to see his reaction. He smiled. "Good night." He chuckled. And traced his finger down my face. Tall kissed me on the forehead before turning to walk away. "See you soon!" He murmured.

I floated down the staircase and into the subway station. I felt flush with excitement. Holy cow. See you soon, indeed.

Yes, put that on hold please.

I "froze" my account on OKCupid today.

Yep. After 177 messages raining down on me and about a dozen dates, I decided yesterday that I would retire myself from this online dating storm. Granted, the OKCupid website was no end of entertainment if one looked at the whole thing through a comical lens. I've been told many times over now that I am a desirable human being, that my freckles are, indeed, very cute, and that I seem down to earth... but more than anything, the process has just left me feeling cold and not so eager to get into anything like online dating again.

Yesterday I had my first improv show with my class. This will be an on-going performance workshop for the next month. I'm very excited. I stayed after the show to watch some more improv, then meandered over to 46th street to get thoroughly smashed. Matt, my roomate, recently got a job behind the bar at the same place Dan (other roomie) is working at. Matt treated me really well. I had several delicious drinks and promptly loosened my tongue and chatted with the bar-folk. A guy came up to me at one point and asked if I wanted to dance. "No, thanks" I said. (I'm too tipsy to do anything worthwhile) He began chatting me up and I instantly switched on my OKCupid mode: What do you do? What brought you to New York? Oh, that's interesting that you like: _____., etc. He kinda' got the hint that I wasn't interested and moved on.

As I was working my way down the bar I struck up a conversation with a very nice Opera singer from the Czech Republic. She asked all about my life and told me about her dating woes. I listened intently. She was a very interesting character: a waitress in Prague, came to New York to sing and is now working to become an opera singer. How wonderful that someone can leave everything behind and pursue their dreams in a foreign city! She then told me all about the serendipitous events leading up to her being with her current boyfriend. She described how much the word "love" passed between the two of them, yet voiced a hesitant feeling that the relationship was not on solid grounds. "Oh, relationships..." I thought. "My god, how we can tear each other apart, yet live for the feeling of touch and encouragement above all else."

I left the bar to head home. It was pouring. And then I got a call from Hawaii.

Marichita, a friend I knew in Louisville, had moved to Maui after we all left the Actors Theatre program in April 2010. I haven't heard too much from her and we had been playing phone tag for a few days. I filled her in on my dampened mood and sad-sack thoughts about the role of being single in the big city. I could hear the sun in her voice as she said "Listen to your heart, Natarie, follow your wander-lust and find a place where you can feel the ground between your toes and root yourself in the earth" Oh, Hawaii: I needed to hear your voice, especially at 1:30am in the middle of pouring rain on a Saturday night in Times Square. I hung up the phone and ran into the subway, feeling warmth in my core despite being soaking wet.

Well, even if I can't get away right now, I can at least start back at a new square, having tried one option that didn't work so well for me. And, if Hawaii can call and wish me sunshine and smiles, then life can't be too bad. I boarded the subway and thought: Maui wishes me well, Beijing is offering me a hug and I can hear Northern Europe whispering sweet promises in my ear.

Wanderlust: I'll embrace you as a new lover for now...

Boyfriend Interviews

I feel like I've now come to a new phase in the search for I-Don't-Know-What from the online dating world. My inbox is getting swelled every day by more and more messages, some more choice that others. (Hi Ms. Candy, How's it going?) Yesterday I was supposed to go on another double-decker date day. I cancelled both dates. The first was supposed to be with Ben (the guy who tried to kiss me in the subway) and the second was a first date with a guy I was going to have a picnic with down in Brooklyn. Honestly, going on more than four dates in a week is fun, at first, but now that I've rolled in to week 2 I've decided to slow down, and maybe by week three I'll stop all together.

Not to say that I feel like this was in any way a waste of time or was not good for a few laughs, but each new person I meet feels more and more like an interview.

Me: So, what do you for a living?

Guy A: I'm and actor.

B:I'm in marketing

C: I'm an entrepreneur.

D: I'm unemployed and laughing about it.

Me: Oh! That sounds really nice. I'm currently doing this, this and that.

Guy A: Wow. You sound really busy. How awesome.

B: You know, it's funny you should mention that...

C: (Silence) That's cool.

D: Haha! Me too!

Me: You're originally from :________? What brought you to New York?

Guy A: Love.

B: Life.

C: A Job.

D: I want to make it big, and since I'm a creative type it made sense to come here.

Me: Do you travel often?

Guy A: Yes! I've been everywhere from London to Timbuktu.

B: Um. Yeah, I visit home a lot.

C: Oy, geeze I really wish I could but I'm just so busy.

D: Did you hear about what happened in Sweden?

Me: ...um, you mean Norway? (idiot.)

I don't mind getting the e-mails either. Sometimes its nice to come home after a long day and check the inbox for ego-inflating messages about my freckles or my smile or how cute it is that I like watermelon. Pecs_and_the_city called me Candy. Catsdotbiz said he thought I was "original and Oh, so refreshing". Last night I got a message from a guy in Venezuela who asked what the hell I was doing on OKCupid; that a girl like me should just walk into a room and wink at someone and that'll save me a lot of time.

If only it were that simple. For now, though, I think I'll wean myself off the nice e-mails and go back to being more of an anonymous chick_in_the_city and let random chance sort out my dating life. Job interviews are exhausting enough on their own. Boyfriend interviews? Ugh. I think I'll try my hand at winking again.

The Double-Decker

A few days ago, after my first OKCupid date with Josh (the Urban Farming Developer) who had been a real neat dude, I was feeling hopeful. I strolled into work after my walk on the Highline and greeted my fellow employees with a crisp new smile and a pop under my heels. There was a whole world of possibilities opening up to me, it seemed. I divulged some of this positivity to my co-worker, Steve. He smiled a little when I told him about my day. I'd been bemoaning my fate and my frustration about the men in my life (or lack-there-of) to him for the past few months, and it seemed that after the first few duds, I was on the up and up. Steve's got an Australian accent, rocks a completely shaved head, is married to an Australian Model, and is a really fun guy to gossip with about our boss and rants whenever he possibly can. When I finished detailing my walk with Josh, Steve said: "So, Nat, whot with the way things are goin', you could have the guys you meet pay for Breakfast, Lunch and Dinnah." I chuckled and thought that notion somewhat absurd.

Until Yesterday.

I'll keep a long, long story short. Two dates in one day is a lot to recount. Yesterday I met: Bill and Ben in Williamsburg. Just, not at the same time.

Breakfast: Williamsburg. 9:12am. Meet: Bill.

Me: (Walking in sweaty, red faced and embarrassed) Hi! You must be Bill! I am so sorry I am late. It took me longer to get here on my bike than I thought!

Bill: No biggie! I was enjoying cooling off by the fan anyway.

Me: So, nice to meet you (going in for a hug)

Bill: Same!

Me: Oh, sorry, I'm like, covered in sweat. Ha!

Bill: I totally understand, I just walked about five blocks and I was drenched.

Me: (Sitting down and noticing Bill's got a fruit bowl and Iced Latte) That looks good, I think I'll get that.

Bill: yeah! It is really tasty.

Me: (Standing up and knocking into the table: Iced Latte spills and dribbles on the floor. I wish I could dribble into a puddle next to it) Ohhh... I'm so sorry about that.

Bill: (looking like someone who wants to make a sarcastic remark, but feels too polite to do so yet) It's... OK.

Me: I'll just clean this up for you (scrubbing the table with a napkin that falls apart and crumbles into disgusting coffee-covered pills that roll around on the table and stick to everything)

Bill: So, you're an actor, right?

Bill and I talked for about 2 hours. He said he needed to leave for work around 10:30 and wound up staying until 11, which I took as a sign that despite my sweatiness and spilled coffee, I had charmed him. Before parting to go our separate ways we even discussed what eating a human would taste like and both agreed that if we had to, we would choose a moderately plump hipster female. Overall, he seemed like nice guy. I've started to imagine I've become a Casting Director of my own life, and I'm auditioning guys on the role of the romantic lead. Bill can have a call-back. We're meeting up again on Monday...

Williamsburg, 2:45pm. Meet: Ben.

I'm standing above ground right next to the entrance to the 'L' train. Ben said he was running late when I called. I put my phone away and wait. What's amazing to me is, despite having to wait in the hot afternoon heat, I managed to help 4 people out with directions. I don't even live in Williamsburg, but I whipped out my iphone and directed people to where they needed to go. I felt like I was supposed to wait on that corner for a half hour just to help people. I get a call: "Hey You! I'm above ground! Oh! I see you!" I scan the intersection. He's unmistakable. Ben comes rolling over to me on a skateboard, his hair a mop of blonde, he had playful Peter-Pan-esk eyes that looked like he'd been involved in quite a lot of mischief. "Hi! I'm Natalie, nice to meet you! Want to go into this Diner?"

Ben: Naw, that place? Have you eaten there before? yuck.

Me: (Actually I have eaten there before: with a guy named Sketch spelled with a 'K' but you don't need to know that, and I don't need to eat there again, on second thought) Got any recommendations for the area?

Ben: I want to get something healthy. I've been on a health kick lately.

We wind up going to a Thai place for lunch. It was perhaps, the worst food I have ever had. I pick at the garlic tofu and want to spit on my plate, but decide that would not be a very good first impression.

Me: So, you grew up in Sweden?

Ben: Yeah, I lived there until I was 13. (He blurts out several lines in Swedish)

Me: (This is scary. Why am I finding Swedes everywhere these days??) Wow. I only know, like two lines in Swedish. (I awkwardly say 'I'm tired' in Swedish) haha! But I'm not actually.

Ben: Woah. It's so strange to hear it coming out of another person's mouth. (He looks at me for a second longer than someone who is just making a passing comment) How's your Thai?

Me: Um... Pretty terrible. Haha!

Ben: Same here. This place sucks.

We walk over to the subway, I need to get to work. Ben's taking the 'L' back out to Bushwick and I am going into Manhattan. In the tunnel before we part:

Me: so, yeah send me a text or an e-mail and we can coordinate another meet up.

Ben: What about next Thursday? around this time?

Me: Sure. (I pull out my iphone and plug in the time, as I am doing so Ben leans in to kiss me.) WOAH! You move fast!

Ben: I really want to kiss you.

Me: Um, yeah, thanks. But, um, yeah...

Ben: Sorry. I'm pretty impulsive. Ok, so, I'll see you next Thursday!

Me: (Holy shit. What the hell? Did I kinda' like that?) Yeah. Ok. Bye.

I walk over to the subway platform and wipe the sweat from my face. I get a weird paranoia that suddenly everyone must know that Ben just tried to kiss me. I look over across the train tracks and see Ben waiting on the other side for his train. He smiles and waves. I wave back before my train pulls in and I board. I sit down and smile despite myself. I don’t know how I feel about Ben. I’m giving him a call-back. I vacantly stare across the subway car. A man with a shockingly pink head of hair catches my eye and smiles. I smile back.

Life is so crazy.

-Natalie

Romps through a recycled Highline

Yesterday I went on my fourth blind date.

I'll preface this with a couple of reasons as to why I am going on blind dates:

I decided that since the ex was getting married this month, and I've been single now for a year and a half, I should get myself "out there" and meet new people. Where do I meet these new people, though? I'm not a big drinker, I don't go clubbing, I rarely sit in cafe's for hours and people watch, and I don't often get hit on by the customers I serve at my job. So: I decided to try the online dating bonanza that seems to hit people and start "1 out of 5" relationships. Why can't that happen for me?

I went on to Match.com for the first time three weeks ago and went on three blind dates through that service.

Guy #1: Zach

Me: So, what do your parents do?

Zach: My dad is an engineer and my mom has Parkinsons.

Me: Oh, I'm sorry to hear that! What does she do otherwise?

Zach: Parkinsons. (with no hint of irony, I might add)

Me: ...So... She just sits around the house all day and has parkinsons?

Zach: Yeah.

Me: Well, you told me they just came to visit you up here in New York, so I guess she does that every now and then when she needs a break from all the Parkinsons she is doing all day.

Zach: Yeah, I guess so.

Guy#2 Sketckh (no, I did not misspell the name)

Me: So, Sketch is quite an unusual name--

Sk.: Yeah, haha! That's a long interesting story...

Me: Oh, is it no--

Sk: ...so when I was young I was dealing with a lot of issues and I would draw a lot, just whip out my pencil and sketch all types of things. Growing up it was just me and my mom, you see. Well one day I was sitting in an office, at school, haha... sketching... and my mom was sitting next to me and this guy, haha! This is funny: this guy comes up to me and my mom and says "well looks like we got a missus and a sketch" on our hands. And the name stuck ever since. But as I was growing up my drawings were getting more and more sophisticated and my mom told me that in order to be a more professional artist I needed to make a signature that was all my own, a way that no other artist could copy my work, and, being that I was only 10 at this point I just added a 'K' to my name. Pretty cool, huh? That's kind of impressive for a 10 year old to come up with, haha! no one has my name and it is completely original and...

Me: Wow, sounds like you like to draw a lo--

Sk.: Oh yeah! I draw all the time, everywhere I go. Infact I like to go to comi-con conventions and walk around the art stalls, Haha! I can spend, literally, 800 dollars in one day at those things, it's what I live for, I love supporting those artists...

Me: yeah those guys can really do good--

Sk.: yeah haha! They do great stuff. You know, it's a funny story, Once...

Guy #3 Can'tevenrememberhisname

Me: Have you ever had Ethiopian food before?

Can'tname: No, I had Indian once.

Me: Oh! great, Ethiopian is very similar in a lot of ways. It's a meal you eat with your hands.

Can'tname: Wow. That's cool.

Me: What is your favorite food?

Can'tname: Oh, I like good food.

Me:...Such as?

Can'tname: You know, like, my mom cooks really good.

Me: (Pause) What does she cook that you like the most?

Can'tname: Chicken. Really good Chicken.

Me: Oh, ok! I like Chicken too. I've gone vegetarian though, so I haven't had Chicken in a while! We can order some now if you like. This place has some great dishes. (I order some food) So, *Insert name here* what do you do for a living?

Can'tname: I'm in marketing for Food Network

Me: WOW! that's awesome! What do you do for them?

Can'tname: Marketing stuff.

Me:...uh huh. (Pause) and what is it that you market?

Can'tname: well, we take a product, and we market it to a specific group of people that we think will like it.

Me: (Holy shit this guy is boring) ...is that what you went to school for?

Can'tname: Yeah.

Me: Oh! Food! Here is the platter we ordered!

Can'tname: (Looks at the food as if looking at a pit falling deep into the chasms of the earth, probably someplace in Mexico that one has only seen in pictures) woah. How do you eat this?

Me: (deeply regretting the choice of cuisine) you tear off a piece of this pancake-like-bread, and you scoop up the food and pop it in to your mouth!

Can'tname: Wow.

After the first 3 duds, I decided to expand my search to other sites. I had heard about OKCupid! and a bunch of success stories from that site and decided to give it a try. I've now been on the site for 2 days and currently have 45 messages in my inbox and counting...

Guy #4: Josh

Me: (Walking along the Chelsea Highline on Manhattan's West Side) So, what brought you to New York?

Josh: I'm a entrepreneur and am starting a business to help promote urban farming and sustainability.

Me: (WINNING!) Woah! you know, my dad and step-mom have a whole farm in their backyard in New Jersey. They're all about that type of stuff. In fact, my dad wants to eventually be a completely sustainable farmer, living entirely off the land.

Josh: Wow, that is exactly what we are trying to promote.

Me: yeah, It's really neat visiting out there, fresh veggies and such, it's so nice to get out of the city sometimes, you know?

Josh: yeah, I split my time between going up to Rhode Island where I work on a farm up there with my business partner's parents.

Me: oh yeah? That sounds cool.

Josh: Yeah, it is. I really like it up there.

Me: (realizing that this guy is really cool, but there is no chemistry. I relax a bit) Want to get a coffee and get out of the sun for a little bit? I'm sweating balls.

Stay tuned for more adventures in my life!

Next date coming very soon...

-Natalie