A lot has happened while I’ve been offline. It’s really just a hazard of being  Scarlett O’Casual—I get super involved in a project at the beginning, fail to do the hard and most important work in the middle, and then leave a bunch of loose ends dangling. Also, I’ve repeated the same mistake I’ve made so many times before that this dating/self-improvement project was supposed to help me avoid—I fell head over heels for Lawrence. Well, anyway, at least this time I made a better judgment and I do think that might be half the battle. In the past, I would repeat the pattern of getting quickly involved with someone who was incredibly wrong, wrong, wrong; while this time I got quickly involved with someone who could’ve been very right.  This occurred in the interim of the two months when I haven’t been posting. I’ve felt so low and conflicted by the whole situation that I didn’t want to write about it, so I let myself off the hook.

Also about two months ago, I started reading date or soul mate? how to know if someone is worth pursuing in two dates or less? by Neil Clark Warren. I was immediately (and perhaps unfairly) annoyed by the book. I’ve seen Warren advertising eharmony.com and both he and it seemed cheesy. The cover of the book is unbelievably bad. Everything is in lower case letters, which unless you’re e.e. cummings, is probably not acceptable.  From an aesthetic standpoint, there is way too much white space on the left side of the cover. And there’s the fact that the couple on the front look vaguely incestuous. This did not surprise me since many of the couples in the eharmony commercials look like cousins; to the organization’s credit, they have recently updated with more diverse-looking couples, but for a long-time I was opposed to trying out eharmony myself because as I kept telling everyone, “I don’t want to meet my soul mate who’s also my third cousin.” I’m not even going to go into tearing apart the poor guy on the front cover of the book who was (I hope) forced to pose with such an expression on his face.

The reason I even found this book in the first place is because I went to the library to seek out corny dating books that I could enjoy reading and making fun of in this blog. I guess I thought I was so smarty-pants that no dating book could ever give me advice but I was wrong. At first, I had a hard time getting advice from an old, white, Christian guy, the type I would usually distrust (I’m not claiming that this is a fair judgment). But when I started actually paying attention to the book, I realized that it gave me an answer to what I am actually looking for.  It has the reader make lists and do assessments about one’s deepest self, and then think about the ideal person who could be your match based on this information. Then, and this is he really fun part for us OCD-ers, you get to make two lists, respectively, of the top ten characteristics you “must have” and “must not have” in your match. Since I had already been formulating the first list for a life time, that part was super easy.  The book also gives 50 common characteristics that people tend to pick, some of which I pulled for my list. Making the list of the things I will not tolerate was pretty easy as well—I guess you know by now that I definitely know what I don’t like.

You may’ve noticed the word could’ve a few paragraphs back in reference to the Lawrence relationship. The book came at the right time because it hit me over the head with the realization that he does not meet all the criteria on my lists. There’s more to it than just this (read the book) but basically, Warren says that there is a real temptation to settle for someone who seems to have all the lists’ qualities except one or two but under no circumstances should you do this. I know that I’ve settled too many times in the past—jumping in to be with someone just because and for too many of the wrong reasons. It can only lead to unhappiness in the end; and, from my own experience, resentment, after finding in a year or so that you really just wish you could tweak the other person to get them to fit your ideal just so. This is neither realistic nor fair, to either party. I know by this point in my life that people very rarely can and are hardly ever willing to change the very essence of who they are. If someone does not fit what you’re looking for, it does no one any good to pursue that person. This doesn’t mean the trivial stuff, like smacking their gum or something. It means a character trait or major part of his or her identity that could make it onto a top ten list, like how they communicate, clearly a biggie.

So, here’s the beef with Lawrence. Dang it all on him for being so beautiful, so nice, patient, and generally wonderful, but I can’t talk to the boy. We just don’t have that sort of communication that I, as a writer, and an intellectual striver, need, want, and desire above all else. For me, communication leads to verbal and emotional intimacy and this is the one thing I can never have from him. So, we’ll see where it’ll go from here, but I have a feeling it’ll have to be nowhere.

Today I got a much-needed Scarlett O’Casual kick in the pants. Talked to Cassie about my Lawrence “problem.” How already so early in the Experiment I am heading dangerously close to the over-commitment thing. The past few days I have been intensely considering being exclusive with Lawrence rather than continuing to date many people. (My problem is often that I am too intense. Could I just get that lobotomy now, please?)

Luckily for me, Cassie advised me at the critical juncture that was today that I really need to date more before ending the Experiment. Even though I temporarily felt like a dating guru, she pointed out the simple and undeniable fact that I still have more to learn. I told her how much I like Lawrence and how I want him to trust me but how can he if I tell him I’m dating a bunch of people? C pointed out that if he really is the right person for me, he will wait and “allow” me to do just what I feel I need to do.

I am developing pretty natural feelings of potential jealousy and possessiveness toward L, albeit feelings that could sour quickly if they go too far. I just would hate to hear him tell me that he is getting physical in any way with anyone else. I hate myself for this–it makes me feel ugly and out of control. I’m writing about it because I have to be honest, it’s part of the process. And I can be honest with him, too.

The best thing C told me today was that I need to practice dealing with the discomfort caused by already feeling strongly toward  L while simultaneously dating other people. It’s the dealing with the discomfort part that’s so important–this is the process that will allow for real personal growth and give me the opportunity to overcome my over-commitment/impulsively getting together with someone problem. I didn’t necessarily enjoy this kick in the pants but I’m glad I got it. Objective perspective wins over my own  confused subjectivity, the same thing that happens over and over as we rely on friends to get us through.

And I do feel better. Over the past few days, I had 1)built it up in my mind to believe that I had to make a huge decision between Lawrence and dating (which is false) and 2)gotten all knotted up about it. Now I feel a bit better. I know there’s going to be more discomfort over the coming months–BRING IT.

I have now re-committed to the Dating Experiment by answering e-mails from the Speed Date guys (four so far) saying I will go on a date with them. So, more fab dating descriptions to come. Wish me luck.

Today I was reading The Complete Vampire Companion: Legend and Lore of the Living Dead, which I checked out from the library.  (I have a weakness for most things vampire, so when I see the book on the shelf I grab it and try to suck the life out of it.) I started to think of how dating could be compared to vampirism. Survival of the fittest: find someone healthy, chase them down and then basically take the vitality out of them, which can be quick or slow.  Oh wait, is that the cynical me talking?

Or maybe my thoughts are just whirling around the Speed Dating. Got back the results today–10 guys I matched with out of the nearly 20 I picked. At first I felt just a little bit rejected, then got over it, especially since I realized that I don’t even remember half the people I met. (May be time to start a gingko biloba regiment.) And I realized that the whole thing is kind of silly. First off, I like Lawrence and I want to keep seeing him, even though it is not the Plan to get too exclusive with anyone. Secondly, how can you really get to know people that fast without stupid snap judgments–it seems that you might just pick all the wrong people or the right people might not pick you. I was surprised to be passed over by two of the guys who I thought liked me and equally surprised to be picked by one guy who I thought had very little interest in me.

Maybe I am just nuts. I guess this is the part of the process where I start questioning everything I am doing.

Right now I am listening to Dolly Parton’s “Jolene” on Pandora and I remembered a useful saying I learned from Sloane Crossley (awesome!!) today in How Did You Get This Number: “What would Dolly do?” I like it. I think that may be a dating slogan for me going forward. Because even though Crossley unfortunately ended up with a complete Dickhead, with a capital “D” after she asked herself this question, I think it’s good to have a guiding light of a female role model like Dolly P. She would hold her head up high, she would be authentic (even in spite of all the makeup and hair!), and she would never, ever forget who she is–her  Selfhood. (In spite of being called “One of the purdiest singin’-est, song-writin’-est lil’ blon’ s in country music” (see “Jolene“) — is this guy for real??)

Anyway, I ended up being matched with some interesting guys, I think (at least the ones I can remember). There are at least four nerds and possibly a couple of lookers. The lists of names is like a little present that comes in the mail and I’m enjoying going over each person’s name, thinking of etymologies. Unfortunately, there is one guy who had such bad hand-writing that the group organizer couldn’t read it and so as far as I know, we can’t be put in contact with one another for this reason. I feel like I’ve been cut off by the Hand of Fate. And he was one of the people I was most interested in talking to later, as we had a great (albeit brief) talk on religion.

Well, that pretty much wraps up my crazy brain’s expression for tonight!

A void where love was, after waking up from the dream.

Love was all-consuming that year and even trickled down into a consistent ache for five long years after that. And then, a void.

He stayed in my mind, the ghost following behind me, the vapor in my brain. Like Sherman Alexie says in The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fist Fight in Heaven:

“There are things you should learn. Your past is a skeleton walking one step behind you, and your future is a skeleton walking one step in front of you. Maybe you don’t wear a watch, but your skeletons do, and they always know what time it is.”

Alexie understands love as well as any writer I have ever read. And love really does relate to horror stories. But while a good horror story usually climaxes and then ends in a grand release of suspense providing satisfactory resolve, my worn love affair left me, at the end of five years, finally out of love–“over him”–but void.

The passion and tragedy of unrequited love had shredded me for all that time. When I finally saw him again, I thought the love had miraculously returned to its earlier reciprocating form. Instead, I found a real man completely detached, just spewing romantic words without meaning any of it.

“How do you talk to the real person whose ghost has haunted you? How do you tell the difference  between the two?” (Ibid)

I finally figured out that, to this old lover of mine, only his art meant something to him, or at least it was the only lover he would ever allow himself to embrace. His embraces for me at this point were lip service only, like his words–he could no longer truly give himself to another human being.

I tell myself it’s a good thing that I came to the realization that I had only been in love with a dream for those five years. The real man in front of me was not that dream, could not be that dream. There was vast disappointment mixed in with some relief at falling out of love due to this discovery. It’s very easy to say that I had been utterly stupid and naïve. But when I remember exactly how much in love I felt at one time–I mean really allow myself to relate to it for a moment–I know that it was as real as it may ever be for me. It was a milestone, a completely absorbing passion.

So now, after almost exactly eight years to the day I met him, there’s just me, alone. A more mature and whole person, less naïve. I’ve learned a lot going through the rock-bottom sensation of hurt. First in losing him, then the constancy of loving him in his absence–the Ghost, the Dream–and then the short attempt at revival of old feelings, ending in disappointment. And after that, processing how to feel as just myself, not an in-love person anymore and how not to be vulnerable for anyone for the last year plus.

It’s not like I think about it every day now. The past is the past, even though it’s a skeleton. But I guess I have to admit, maybe that kind of love and disappointment is never really pushed out of one’s mind and heart until there is a replacement. An older, wiser me upcoming to tackle that? Can I find a replacement love? A love of all time to blow my mind? And do it the right way this time? Maybe this blog is a start.

But here I go, always ahead of myself and maybe that’s why I fall in love hard and easily almost every time. Why I have had the opposite of a commitment issue. But I’ve been so good in the last year–I’ve stayed single. It’s forever since I’ve managed that. On the other hand, loneliness is starting to creep in from a hermit-like existence. That’s part of what brought me to this point–to learn to date, and not only that but to learn to do it casually. No commitment, no ties, no drama, just fun and getting to know people. For me, an experiment, a test for myself to do what does not come naturally and test the hypothesis that I do have the capability to do it and learn from it.

With this frame of reference, the experiment will be structured–approximately one first date a week. Exposure to one member of the male species at one time for a short time. For coffee, conversation, and other such date-like activities. I may even learn something from the activities themselves–like extreme knitting or something. (Ouch–carpal tunnel!)

Small talk has always been such a bore, unless I am concentrating on something else, like the sculptured look of someone’s nose. So if I can at least pull off small talk, while processing either my own random thoughts or anxieties, I feel it will be a success. I think part of this will be in learning even more how to be ok with myself, as I am. That is, myself interacting with others, without having to please them. Being an over-pleaser and a bit of an enabler may be one reason why I leap into committed relationships before I look.

Let’s hope the sob story is over for once and all.

Please note, all names of individuals contained herein are fake; places are not mentioned specifically. This is in order to protect the innocent (and possibly the guilty, meaning myself).

In the beginning section cataloging each date, I am including sections for things like “My Outfit” and “Amount of Time Spent Beautifying.” FYI, I am not a Narcissist. I put these as indicators of how important I thought the date was going to be beforehand. I am also using these categories because I think it will be interesting to note each date’s reaction to my appearance, as well as my own confidence level based on my own perception of how I look that day.

At the ending section cataloging each date, I have put in several categories of rankings of things like the person’s face, smell and interestingness. The rankings are not in order to be mean to my dates (hey, the names are changed!) I also included a category called “Deportment.” This category is based on the critical factor of how one carries himself, my little joke inspired by Mr. Turveydrop in Bleak House. Another category is “Amiable,” an idea that Jane Austen illustrated in descriptions of courtship. I think that the idea of Amiable is best described when Agatha Christie quotes David Copperfield in her autobiography: ‘”Is your brother an agreeable man, Peggotty?” I enquired cautiously. “Oh what an agreeable man he is!” exclaimed Peggotty .’ (Christie goes on to explain that her own father was an agreeable/amiable man.)

The purpose of all these rankings is in the interest of Science, to study how much importance I attach to each category in making an overall evaluation of how much I like someone and if I will date the person again. So, with that being said, just read the rest of the damn blog.

My first release into the wilds of dating. On the prowl. A little nervous. A little excited.

It all started with a chat after dinner at my friend Bee’s house, with another friend, Cassandra Chick-Lit, in attendance. Bee has been in a committed relationship for about 10 years; Cassandra and I are both currently single. As women so often do, the three of us began to analyze our relationship histories—the Good, the Bad & the Ugly. And while the three of us have plenty in common, it’s the Ugly I’ve mostly considered on a very personal level for the last year and a half (more on that later).

Cassandra and I began to talk about the Bad—in other words, where we have been unsuccessful in our relationships. All three of us are in our 30s, which seems to be a place where people become more in tune with who they are and can have more honest conversations about it. Cassandra confessed that she is a commitment-phobe. By contrast, I consider myself a non-commitment-phobe. This has been a very Ugly problem for me for many years past. I’ve had so many bad long-term relationships that I am starting to lose count. It started with a relationship with my High School Sweetheart, which lasted for nearly eight years and ended in the Bitter Big D. (Which divorce is not bitter??)

Anyway, for most of my adult life, I have impulsively committed to and been stuck with several of the wrong people. One, three, SEVEN years in: “Gee, all this wasted time has been a blast but I really have to leave now.” I could write a book about it (and in fact have a half-written manuscript on this topic in my desk right now.) Hence, the Anti-Commitment Problem, or ACP. That sounds like a medical diagnosis. Yes I like that—ACP—that sounds better than just saying I have a yucky personal issue.

This problem is still lurking around somewhere in my past and while I was talking to Bee and Cassandra, I realized that I have no idea how to date; here I am at this ripe age and I still don’t even have the skills that even a semi-popular teenager might. To my credit, in this past year of FINALLY self-inflicted singlehood, I have at least figured out a bit about why I have ACP (which I will discuss later). I have gone through quite a process this year, achieving not only monk-like celibacy, but a cynically self-protective edge over romantic impulsiveness.

But after talking it out with Bee and Cassandra, I suddenly realized that perhaps now there is a component missing in my life. Living by myself is not exactly lonely but potentially boring and I hate being bored. Plus, I may not want to be the old lady in the nursing home someday who passed up all the opportunities to have a relationship for 50 years because she made poor choices during the 15 years prior. Plus, it seems that dating would be a skill that many people in our society would/should have, and I do enjoy having skills. (I find it helps with résumés if nothing else.) Plus, I really can’t spend the entire rest of my life watching Star Trek on Netflix, as appealing as it may sound.

The project with which I am starting my new life will include going on a date with one new person every week OR  attending at least one dating-oriented event each week for a year.

Thus, with all these factors considered, I, Scarlett O’Casual, am ready for my Official Release into the Wild.