Scarecrow

Once upon a summer I met a very cute lifeguard while at the beach. He was handsome in a golden Greek God sort of way, had the alluring essence of an athlete about him, and was as laid back and easy going as a Jack Johnson song. I honestly wasn’t in the mood for anything serious and well, he seemed about perfect for this. I guess I should have made my intentions clear but within weeks I was suddenly meeting the family and attending social gatherings with him. What I thought to be a casual relationship quickly felt like anything but. I was flummoxed and even though I couldn’t admit it to a soul, the real problem was that despite a physical attraction, there was little intellectual connection. And so, I found myself in a quandary. He was cute, nice, and funny but our main topics of conversation were surfing, working out, and which bars had the best beer. It didn’t take long for me to miss having conversations that delved deeper.

I tried to overlook this one thing and was quite successful for most of the summer. But then I began spending longer periods of time with him and the truth became painfully clear. At night, over dinner we would run out of things to say and would often escape into TV shows or movies just to pass time. And on the weekends, he would spend time working out or drinking with his buddies while I worked on my own projects. Eventually, we went our separate ways but I did learn something most important—I need to be with a smart boy not a scarecrow in dire need of a brain.

A friend once said that the perfect relationship should consist of connecting on three levels: intellectual, emotional and physical. The intellectual (or mental) connection is the ability to easily have long, meaningful conversations. The emotional connection is one in which they are the first person you want to talk to when you have good or bad news. And, the physical connection is one where there is a shared, mutual attraction on that base level. I have come to believe that this idea is a pretty good barometer with regards to relationships. Through my dating experiences, I’ve also come to realize that it is quite easy to find one or maybe even two of these traits but difficult (at least for me) to find all three in one person. And thinking back on relationships that didn’t work out, there was always at least one of these components lacking. But, as I’ve gotten older (and hopefully wiser), I’ve come to realize that I can’t compromise on this if I want to be happy and fulfilled in a relationship. And really, isn’t that what we all strive for in a relationship—to be happy and fulfilled?

Now, when I think back to the summer of the lifeguard, I’m amazed that things went on for as long as they did. I was bored, very bored with him, and the fact that he was easy on the eyes was not enough to keep me from my boredom. For some gals (and some guys too I suppose), this may not be such a big deal. I mean, it’s kind of nice (and well, downright flattering) to be dating someone who resembles a Greek God/Goddess. But having someone who I can talk to about everything, who sparks my intellectual curiosity, and who gets who I am from the inside out, well that’s precious, priceless, and pretty close to perfection.

Houdini

Every once in awhile (usually a long while), I go on a date that is spectacularly good. We meet, hit it off, and have such a fantastic time that it is blatantly obvious that we will see each other again. Sometimes a second date is scheduled before the first date has even ended. And this always, without question is a good thing because it completely cuts out that strange, angsty, three-day rule about whether he will call or not. It eliminates me wondering if he will call/e-mail/text or somehow let me know that he wants to see me again. Whenever this happens, I secretly breathe a sigh of relief because no woman really enjoys this period. But sometimes, no matter how fantastic things seem to go, the date ends with Mr. Fabulous saying something like “I’ll call you soon”, “Let’s do this again”, or my favorite (being sarcastic here)—“Take care.” It is always good when I hear back from Mr. Fabulous and that second date is booked. But every once in awhile, Mr. Fabulous disappears so completely that it is almost as if he was conjured up by fairy dust to begin with.

I have to say that I’m not a big fan of this disappearing act and think it is character revealing and childish. Take for instance Rob. Rob and I clicked so well the first time we spoke by phone, we talked for FOUR hours. Our conversation was so long that it could almost be counted as our first date. Then we met and it was downright dreamy. He was cute (in a preppy kind of way), smart (but not a smarty pants), and funny (my face hurt from laughing). And, he was giving me the ‘I’m Into You’ signs—flirting, touching, contagious smiling, looking at my lips a whole lot. It was going so well that we even kissed and it was good too! So as I walked him to the subway, I felt sure that I would see him again even if he hadn’t booked the second date and even when he said something vague about “doing this again.” Like I said, it seemed blatantly obvious that we would see each other again.

Fast forward a week, and only a few, strangely short e-mails have been exchanged. I’m actually surprised he hasn’t called. We’ve spoken by phone (so I know he is a phone-phobic) and it seems like a step back on the technology chain to now be communicating solely by e-mail. A part of me wants to make excuses for him—he is busy with work/sick/dealing with family issues. Then, I receive a random e-mail about getting together soon that is worded in such a way that I can’t figure out if he is asking me out or blowing me off. I respond with something non-committal about how getting together soon sounds good. And then, I never hear back from him.

I go over our date in my head—it was good and it seemed like there was a connection. Why would he just blow me off? Why would he just vanish into thin air? I realize that I can’t answer these questions after all I was just getting to know the guy. But really, would I want to date a guy who just disappears? To go one step further isn’t it better to know about this now? I have a friend whose boyfriend fell of the face of the earth after six months of dating. She’s still recovering. I guess the bottom line is that no matter how magical things seem, no one really wants to date Houdini.

You're So Vain

During my first conversation with a guy we’ll call John, he tells me that he a) runs five miles a day, b) has a six-pack, c) considers himself quite handsome and was voted Best Looking in his office, and d) is quite the catch. Oh dear, I’m worried about how this guy lifts his inflated head off of his pillow each morning. I’m sorry, but when did it become okay to go on and on and on about oneself? Is this considered normal these days? Did this come about because of all of this online dating and the need to sell oneself sight unseen?

While there is nothing wrong with working out, anyone who runs that much may just might be a sadomasochist. As for a six-pack, I wish he were referring to the beer in his fridge. Considering oneself to be handsome and voicing this makes me wonder if some kind of metrosexual line has been crossed. And, even though I’m not a fan of fishing, I wish he were talking about taking a day trip with the guys rather than himself. Yikes—narcissism is alive and kicking.

As I scroll through online postings of guys ready to be matched up, they almost all describe themselves as attractive/good looking/gorgeous/handsome. Is it possible that this many truly beautiful men live within ten mile radius of Manhattan? I mean, I know that there are a lot of people living here, but really? I look at the pics and sometimes they seem to maybe be telling the truth. Other times, not so much. But it is hard to tell with pictures that look like they were taken with shoddy camera phones or developed from film that has been sitting at the bottom of a lake for the last decade or so. And so, conversation becomes quite important. And conversation that goes beyond vain, extremely important.

I keep talking to John, hoping that he will prove me wrong, hoping that he will start maybe asking some questions about me. But he doesn’t. He talks and talks and talks about himself. I hear about the fancy car he drives, his collection of imported knives, the last vacation he took, his favorite hair gel, and his best attributes (in addition to having that six-pack). Needless to say, I smartly decide not to date John but I can’t help feeling that something has gone horribly awry. What happened to all of the humble, Jimmy Stewart-like guys of the world?

As I begin to explore this topic with friends, I make further shocking discoveries. I hear of men who spend more time primping and preening than their female counterparts, guys who have appointments for waxing and eyebrow shaping, and even one ex-husband who broke into the bronzer on more than one occasion (hmm, reason enough to divorce?). As I research, I also stumble upon marketing campaigns for skincare lines, accessories (and I don’t just mean watches here), and makeup lines. Makeup for men. Let me repeat this, MAKEUP for MEN! Sorry, but men wearing foundation, eye-liner, nail polish and the like just seems very wrong (as does bronzer for that matter). Surely, this isn’t catching on, right?

I try to put this newfound knowledge out of my mind as I prepare for my next date. I send a little prayer to cupid that he will please be cute, smart, humble, and makeup free. We meet on a busy street corner and I immediately like his smile, his simple khakis, his quirky glasses. We make our way to lunch and he tells me stories that make me laugh. As we sit down, he shrugs out of his coat—a simple, green sweater coat. He smiles sheepishly and says he hopes that I don’t think it to be too old-fashioned, his coat that is. We trade tales of dates gone awry, our favorite comfort foods, and the best movie theaters around the city. Not once does he mention his work-out routine, his physical attributes, his obvious cuteness, or that he believes himself to be catch of the day. I find myself leaning closer to him, trying to look into his eyes (and to perhaps discreetly check for makeup). Thankfully, he appears to be a-la-natural and for that, I send up a big Hallelujah!