Online Dating Profiles

I've tried Match.com on and off for the last year without much success. Sure, I've had lots of dates, and on the plus side, almost every one of the guys I've been out with wants to see me again - I just don't really want to see them!

In fact, I think I've only met one guy I was actually interested in - Jack - and clearly that did not work out well.

To be honest, it seems that I'm sending out all kinds of winks / e-mails (no waiting for guys to make the first move online!), but not getting much of a response.

Which leads me to believe there must be something inherently wrong with my profile.

I know there have been all kinds of articles written about what to include in online profiles, like "Three Ways to Build A Better Online Dating Profile" and "Dating Profile Don'ts", and I've tried to incorporate these ideas in moderation.

But something's still not working - so, for your viewing pleasure, I've posted the main body of my profile here. For those who have never checked out Match.com, this is subsidized by other brief answers (think Twitter length) about For Fun, My Job and Favorite Hot Spots, etc.

I think I sound totally date-worthy, but I ask you, where have I gone wrong?

ABOUT ME AND WHAT I'M LOOKING FOR:

I'm originally from Minnesota, spent four years in Missouri at school and moved to DC because (ok, this is a little dorky) I loooove "The West Wing." Having been on the East Coast for three years, I've adopted the Steelers as my NFL team but still retain my Midwestern values. I'm just as comfortable in a dress and heels as my pajamas - which I pretty much change into as soon as I get home each night.

I love to travel and can pack light, or bring everything but the kitchen sink depending on the trip. Beach vacations in the spring and summer, ski trips in the winter and spontaneous weekend getaways are a few of my favorites.

When it comes to what I'm looking for, I like to be around people who, no matter the activity or occasion, make it more fun just by being there. I want to date someone who's also my best friend - someone who I can have a serious conversation with, but who I can also be a total goofball around. I want to hang with your friends, and you should be able to hang with mine - bonus points for sitting through a chick flick!

So, whether we're going for a run, visiting a museum or playing a round of golf or a game of Scrabble, let's hang out and see what happens - if you've made it this far, send me a wink or an e-mail:)

Random facts about me:

*My roommate and I tried out for The Amazing Race last spring - our video rocked!

*I read cheesy romance novels because I can finish them quickly, and if I have to put it down for awhile, I don't forget the plot line

*I've had to ban myself from watching Lost because I spend the whole time ranting about how things don't make sense and getting frustrated that we never seem to get any answers

*I don't cry often, but am almost guaranteed to shed a tear or two in the movie theater, no matter what the movie

*I'm really independent, but I crave cuddling with someone at night

*I love cake - seriously, they sell it by the slice at the grocery store and I think that might be the best invention ever

*I was valedictorian and a state swimmer in high school

*If a computer or copier breaks in the office, you can pretty much assume I must have touched it recently

Don't Date Where You Drink

New Rule: Do not, under any circumstances, date someone at a bar you like to frequent. Unless you're ok with not being able to drink there again.

I made the mistake of going out once with Cory, the bouncer, from O'Sullivan's. The date was not something I wanted to repeat, to say the least, and after continuing to ask me out via text for weeks, he finally sent this as a last-ditch effort:

"So, did I screw up our date that badly or did you break your phone or something?"

And thus, I've been forced to avoid the bar for a few months. Until last weekend.

Since it was my birthday, I decided to be brave and bite the bullet (I'm not going to speculate on what role a large bottle of wine might have played in this newfound courage). I like going to O'Sullivan's occassionally and I would NOT be deterred any longer by one bad date.

It also helped that it was Friday, and Cory ususally works on Saturday.

Alas, my hopes of avoiding an awkward encounter were not realized. As the cab pulled up and I peered through the torrential downpour, I realized the face at the door was not that of an unknown stranger, but rather the one I recognized.

"Quick," I said to my friend Kelsey as I shoved her toward the door. "You have to go in first!"

She looked at me like I was crazy, which I probably am a bit, but gamely made her way to the door - allowing me to hide behind her.

When it was my turn to have my id checked, I studiously looked the other way while shoving my license into Cory's hand. Just as he started to look up and say something, I grabbed it back and ran into the bar.

I know, very ostrich-head-in-the-sand of me, and not exactly my most mature moment. And it gets worse.

Since O'Sullivan's is relatively small, the majority of standing room is in plain view of the doorway - and Cory. As we waited to order our drinks, I could feel him looking at me. This was not imagined - when I looked up, we definitely made eye contact. Argh! So much for avoidance.

And then he started to make his way into the room.

I looked frantically for someone to duck behind, but there wasn't a nice, solid guy presently available. Instead, we made our way toward the few tables, and luckily managed to find something hidden in the corner - well out of eyesight of the doorway.

Safe, at last.

At least until it was time to leave. Luckily, running out the door worked just as well as running in.

How Old is Too Old?

At 26, I definitely feel older than 25. As my friend Melissa said, I'm now in my late mid-20s - and I'm not a fan of "late" anything.

But my question is, how old is too old for me to date? When I was fresh out of college, 27 seemed beyond me and 30 was certainly ancient. The guy that was a year behind me and still in school was acceptable, but 26 was questionable.

At 24, I reached the point where 30 was no longer so scary and 29 was definitely a good number. But now, as I contemplate tonight's date with No. 9.5 from last week, I'm not sure where the line is anymore.

Did I mention he's 36?

The decade age difference not withstanding, that seems a little too close to 40 for comfort. Let's say things did work out, does that mean I have to start having kids right away? I mean, even if we had our firstborn tomorrow, he'd be 54 by the time the kid went off to college. So much for doting on grandkids together. And what about the male/female life expectancy issue? Does this mean I'll hit my golden years by myself? Or will he be too frail by then to even enjoy them with me?

I suppose on the up side he'd be less likely to leave me later for a younger woman!

I know - I'm several, even hundreds, of steps ahead of myself. As I rattled off these concerns to my roommates the other night,they looked at me with a kind of horror over the new levels of crazy I had reached.

But isn't it better to rule someone out from the beginning than to find out later, once you really like them, there are any number of dealbreakers in the way?

Then again, given that the hottest thing I've got going right now is my lukewarm thing with Charlie, perhaps I can't afford to be so picky.

What now?

Charlie's at it again - and I'm not sure I can translate his latest signals!

As we watched a movie one night last week, I found myself suddenly cuddled up in his lap - not our typical M.O. And even more confusing, he was actually stroking my hair while Cary Elwes pranced about in "Robin Hood: Men in Tights."

And then it gets really interesting: when I start to make noises about it getting late, he says in this incredibly adorable little boy way that he doesn't want me to leave.

Sounds like he's potentially interested in being more than friends, right? I mean, the guy doesn't even like to cuddle!

So we move into the bedroom - again, not at all weird for me to crash there when it's after dark, since his parking lot creeps me out - and he proceeds to engage in some hardcore spooning. But when he leans into kiss me - GASP! - I stop him. We've been down this road before and we both know we don't really make good friends with benefits. Someone (meaning me) always seems to end up disappointed and hurt.

Instead, I explain this to him and when greeted with silence tentatively add, "Unless there's something you're not telling me?" Yep, more crickets. So I start to chatter on about something else and when I stop to take a breath he makes another comment about wanting me to stay.

So I do.

And when we both wake up in the middle of the night, he leans over and says good-night with a kiss on the forehead and a quick peck on the lips.

What does all this mean??!! If I was sending someone these signals, obviously I'm interested in him. But Charlie seems to engage in some weird dialect of man-speak that even my other guy friends can't fully understand.

Birthday Celebration

The best birthdays all seem to have three things in common: boys, booze and baked goods. Luckily, my week-long celebration (also known as the birthday extravaganza) kicked off last week with two of the three - and there's still plenty of time to work in the baked goods (mostly in the form of cupcakes).

The rules for the annual festivities dictate the partying doesn't start until the first present arrives - so thank you Grandma for timing the delivery of your gift with Friday night! Following the present opening, the girls and I headed to Carpool to start the night.

Turns out, the birthday chant my roommate Lauren does with her elementary school kids works just as well with beer as milk - and helps attract the guys. From the "babies" fresh out of school to one that was closer to 40 than 30, the men (I use the term loosely) began to swing by the table in droves. Seriously. I've never had that many talk to my group in one night before!

As we realized this had become the theme for the evening, we started to name and call them by number. At first we thought we'd be lucky to get to No. 5, but we quickly revised that to No. 12.

The number system was all in good fun and no one objected until we got to No.9.5. He seemed a bit offended, although we think he was really just upset that he was a half instead of a whole number (since Kimberley waved him over, we decided he didn't fully count since he did not approach our table on his own).

Not to worry though - as he moved away from our table in a huff, I followed to console him and we're going out on Tuesday.

Happy Birthday to me!

Dear Charlie

Dear Charlie,

Remember when I said I like you? The sentiment is still floating free out there and without a response, I'm left to wonder. Is it possible you didn't actually understand the drunk text I sent with this message? Or the several sober follow-up texts later?

Or maybe you didn't get the phone call, voicemail and text I sent after I missed the one call you made to "talk about things."

Admittedly, I wasn't able to make it all the way through, "He's Just Not That Into You," but I grasped the general idea. It would be logical to conclude your avoidance of the topic is the equivalent of saying, "Thanks, but no thanks."

Except, you didn't say it, which leaves all of your actions open to interpretation.

For example, what did you mean by asking if I was going to spend the night after the Steelers game on Sunday? We both know I'd rather crash at your place than walk into your parking lot after dark, but if you're not interested in being more than friends, why suggest such an activity?

And were you just being funny during our conversation about heart disease versus breast cancer when you said you could help with a breast exam but I was on my own with the cholesterol stuff? Or was that you're way of testing the waters to see where I was at more than three weeks after I made my shocking announcement of positive feelings for you?

I can't help but remember the last time we danced around the idea of dating, and it came out after the fact that you're not very good at telling someone you like them. Are you afraid you missed the window and you're not sure how to bring it up?

You're sending mixed signals and I'm having trouble reading them. Is this just harmless flirting or are you trying to say something more?

Or is this just another case of me overanalyzing? Like when I spent days trying to figure out the underlying meaning of a simple text. And the times when I call everyone I know to dissect a situation, taking all opinions into account before deciding what actually happened. But I digress (And yes, I used a big word. I like them.)

If you can clear any of this up for me, I'd appreciate it. And, as I said before, no big deal if you're not interested. I still need a golf buddy - and at least with you, I know I'll always win!

Sincerely,

Andi

Hair Hottie

I think I may have met the man of my dreams on Thursday. Sort of. Ok, "met" might be a bit strong - we didn't actually speak. But I did see him. Sort of.

Perhaps I should back up. I was at Bubbles getting my hair highlighted (just a little brightening up - really, I'm a natural blonde!) when a gorgeous guy walked in. He met all the minimum qualifications: over 6 ft. tall, solidly built, clean cut, dress pants and shirt speaking to gainful employment - all before he even opened his mouth.

Luckily, he was seated in the chair next to mine. As he told the stylist what he'd like done - "Straighten out the sideburns, they're getting a little mangy" - I tried to sneak a closer look. I peered out from under the fringe of hair currently in front of my eyes, prompting me to remember I was sporting a head of foil. Not exactly a prime "look at me" moment

As he made conversation with his stylist (extra points for friendliness), I eavesdropped shamelessly and his stock continued to climb. He was from the Midwest, normally went to the Bubbles in Pentagon City (he meets my 5-mile radius requirement) and had been to a wedding recently (more likely to be looking for a relationship?).

Sigh. I think I was in love.

I was working on my opening line - something about my recent trip to Chicago, since he had said he was going there for the weekend - when my stylist returned and walked me over to the sink.

"Ok," I thought. "Don't panic. She'll rinse me out and I'll be back in the chair before he's ready to leave. And sans foil."

Except she didn't rinse me out right away! Apparently, the highlights weren't done yet. By the time my head did meet water, I couldn't even enjoy the scalp massage (a main reason to even go to Bubbles) because I was craning my neck to make sure Dream Guy was still there.

Sadly, he took his leave before we moved onto the haircut portion of my evening. But I certainly enjoyed meeting him. Or seeing him.

Maybe I should be visiting Bubbles a little more often. I wonder how frequently I can ask to have "just half an inch" taken off without looking suspicious? Or I run out of hair?

The Clock is Ticking

I think my wonderfully loving and supportive parents are starting to get a little concerned that neither me nor my sister are dating anyone.

Sign #1 - In response to my using bad teeth as a dealbreaker my dad said, "We can get him braces!"

Sign #2 - When I joined Match.com with my roommate, my mom wanted to be the one to create my profile.

Sign #3 - My dad has started asking on a recurring basis "Why don't you date Charlie?" (And he only knows Charlie as my golf buddy - no idea that I'm actually interested in being more than friends with him).

Midwest kids who were married at 21 and parents at 25 (to me!), they seem to be eyeing the clock a lot more these days - although, to be fair, they're not the only ones. As I plan my annual birthday extravaganza, it's not lost on me that at 26 I'm squarely in the mid-20s range, rather than early.

But I have enough problems fending off the likes of Short Bad Kisser Boy and Annoying Phone Guy without my parents chiming in, thinking they can do better! Trust me, I'm out there - and if he is too, I'll find him. I hope.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

I've always thought an airport is a great place to meet someone.

My theory is that whoever you might end up talking to has a connection to either the city you're coming from or the city you're going to, so you're already off to a good start. Maybe you'll get lucky, hit it off and he'll live down the street, or provide you with a fun place to visit for long weekends.

So, every time I fly somewhere, I check out the date possibilities as I wait to board, and once on the plane, look up at every cute guy hoping he just might have the seat next to me.

My trip to Chicago last weekend was no different. But instead of a dinner-worthy seatmate, I sat next to a 65-year-old woman - there and back (a different one on each flight, but same idea).

Barring one amazing flight from Texas to Jackson Hole where I was seated in the middle of a minor league hockey team (and as a result, was able to present my friend with several prospects for the weekend in place of the typical hostess gift), this particular dating strategy has yet to pan out for me. But I'm going to keep looking at every airport.

Random Run-Ins

The DC metropolitan area has a population of more than 7.5 million - and yet, I keep running into the same people all the time!

How is this possible? And why does the rate of random run-ins seem to rise in direct proportion to how much I'm trying to avoid someone?

Not once, not twice, but three times this weekend did I see people I wasn't exactly overjoyed to encounter.

Run-in No. 1: Cory, the bouncer at O'Sullivans. Against my better judgment, we went out once for smoothies (I know, doesn't get much cornier) . Very nice guy, but VERY socially awkward. He spent the night before our "date" (I use the term loosely because I'm not sure 45 minutes over blended fruit really counts) memorizing the standings of the British Open to impress me. Potentially sweet if it had been someone else, but in this case just weird.

I was really feeling like a low-key night on Friday and O'Sullivans would have been perfect - except Cory was working the door. Given that he texted for weeks after our get-together (and I studiously avoided responding) I decided it wasn't worth the run-in. I immediately crossed the street (to avoid being seen) and headed to Carpool for...

Run-in No. 2: Jack*, from Match.com, was standing next to my roommate when I came out of the bathroom.

When I met Jack, he seemed perfect on paper (or online). I was really excited to see where things might go, and we went out several times before I headed home to Minnesota to run a marathon - he even gave me a good luck card our last night together - major cool points! We spoke for a few minutes every day while I was home, but on the night before my return flight he got all weird and defensive asking, "Do you even like me? I mean, you seem angry every time we talk. If this is how things are going to be, we might as well just stop now."

WHAT?! Obviously I liked him if I was calling every day. Granted, I tend to be pretty sarcastic when I'm unsure of myself and getting to know someone new, but he freaked out without giving me much of a chance. I was so disturbed by what felt like him laying down guidelines for an entire relationship, I wasn't sure what to do. It seemed like he was projecting feelings from a past incident onto me, but been there and done that - second-guessing everything I did because of how a boyfriend's previous girlfriend had behaved - and wasn't about to repeat the experience.

I waited a few weeks, but decided to try again because it seemed like we could have something great together. After asking him out several times (yes, I pursued him!), our schedules finally meshed and we got together once more. I thought things went pretty well (minus him backing into a parked car with his brand new truck - which didn't exactly set the mood for a good-night kiss), but he never called again.

And there he was at Carpool - which I don't think he'd ever even been to until I took him there on our first date - acting all nonchalant as he said hi!

I was so annoyed to have my night ruined. There was no need for him to be all buddy-buddy like we were friends or something! And he'd obviously sought me out - he even said he thought he'd seen me sitting in another part of the bar earlier.

I believe a stream of angry texting followed, but I prefer to block out the memory - and the embarrassment.

Run-in No. 3: CHARLIE! Who still had not called back, by the way. My roommate, Lori, and I were coming out of Rock Bottom after the Steelers disheartening loss to the Bears on Sunday, and I was trying to peer discreetly into Union Jack's to see if he was working when I realize the guy walking out the door toward me is him.

AWKWARD!

I think I mumbled something and bolted for the exit. At least I can take solace in the fact I was rockin' my Steelers jersey and denim skirt - I KNOW I looked good.

Really not a great weekend on the dating front.

*Changed at Jack's request from original post earlier today - yes, he's following my blog. Interesting...

Update: Friends....or More?

I think there's a scene in "He's Just Not That Into You" where Ginnifer Goodwin's character is waiting for a guy to call and spends an evening running around like a nutcase checking to make sure her cell, landline and voicemail are working.

That was me last night.

Actually, calling me a nutcase might be a bit much, but I did check a couple of times to make sure my cell was getting service - which isn't THAT weird, as it's been known to go in and out. In fact, I missed a call from a tow truck just yesterday morning even though my phone was right next to me!

Anyway, a call from Charlie is what prompted this momentary craziness. He wanted to TALK.

But I missed it because I was at softball and when I called back, he didn't answer. As he doesn't check his voicemail and also has problems with his service, I was worried he wouldn't know I'd called him back. So I sent a text message as soon as I got home letting him know I was around if he wanted to call again.

And then proceeded to check my phone every few minutes for the rest of the night to make sure I hadn't missed a call or text.

Except he hasn't called back. What if the moment's passed and he's decided to just let it go? I have to know what he was going to say!

Friends...or More?

I moved to the DC area three years ago not really knowing anyone. Sure, there was the odd acquaintance who was a friend of a friend or my mother's cousin type of thing, but for the most part, I was on my own.

Until I met my friend Charlie*.

We ran into each other for the first time at Clarendon Ballroom while I was waiting in line at the bar. He was with a bunch of guys, and as I stood behind them, he introduced himself by offering to buy me a drink - if I'd give his friend a birthday kiss! I laughed, but his smile was so adorable and the pick-up line so original, I ended up talking to him for the rest of the night.

At first, we flirted with dating, but it just didn't seem right. Instead, we started hanging out occasionally - platonically. Over the next several months, I started to think of him as one of my best friends in DC. Everything was just so comfortable - we'd watch movies, make dinner and spend most weekends on the golf course. If I was over late, it was easier to just crash at his house than go home to mine. He was my Dawson - with some casual benefits thrown in on the side if neither of us was seeing anyone else (so maybe it wasn't entirely platonic)!

About a year ago, we started circling around the idea of dating again, but neither of us was willing to say we were interested in the other. And then, one day, Charlie suddenly had a girlfriend and dumped me as a friend.

"I thought it would be awkward for you," he said. For me? Why? We'd always been buddies more than anything else - it didn't bother me that he was dating someone other than me, but I was incredibly hurt that he didn't want to spend time together anymore.

We crossed paths a few months later at Sign of the Whale during Nightmare on M Street. He was dressed as a cow (I was Jem from Jem and the Holograms), single again, incredibly drunk and out of nowhere asked me why we were never a couple. "We would have been perfect together!" he said.

WHAT?! Where did that come from?

I was seeing someone else at the time, so nothing came of it then. And it took me several more months to get over all the anger I felt about the way he severed our friendship. But then, a few weeks ago we were hanging out late one night and suddenly I felt differently. Not only was I having fun, but I wanted to jump the guy! (Something of a 180 for me - I've always thought Charlie was really cute, but the spine-tingling feeling was always been missing before.)

Over the next three weeks, I tried to tell Charlie that I liked him. There were going to be no missed signals this time around! But something always came up and the timing just didn't seem right.

Then this weekend, as Lauren and I made mac and cheese after a night at Clarendon Grill, we collectively (and intoxicatedly) decided it was a GREAT idea for her to repeatedly call the guy she's seeing and for me to text Charlie my epiphany.

"On the off chance u haven't figured it out yet, i have a crush on u...just wanted to lay it on the table:)," I punched into my phone and hit send, before I could change my mind.

No response that night.

When the return text did come the next day, there was no reference to the baring of my soul (Ok, that's a little dramatic. I was actually somewhat indifferent at this point, but firmly believe in putting everything on the line so that I walk out of every situation knowing it's not my fault it didn't work).

So I texted again. A very, very long text. Which, of course, then encountered technically difficulties in getting through, so I had to split it into three separate messages and send all of those. His reaction? "I'm at work. I'll call you later."

That was Sunday. I'm thinking he's probably not interested, but the worst part is, who am I going to play golf with now? At least with Charlie, I could always be assured of winning and never had to worry about a bad shot because it was almost guaranteed his ball would be further in the woods than mine!

*Name changed in the event Charlie finds out about this blog - although, he should recognize his role in this tale!

Like a Guy

Kimberley came downstairs last night to see me in sweats with my feet on the coffee table, a half eaten box of pizza in front of me and the Steelers opening-season game on TV.

"Haha...you're like a guy!" she said.

Sort of. I certainly love sports (although I'm not the obnoxious know-it-all girl who rattles off every stat to impress guy friends) and am just as comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt as a dress and heels.

But I also like pedicures, prefer a nice hotel over camping (although one night in a tent next to a bonfire can be a lot of fun) and can spend a lot of time getting my makeup and hair just right (but spent a week backpacking through Europe this summer without a blowdrier or curling iron!).

If I were a guy, I'd think I was perfect - I'm in my element taking shots with his friends AND hunting through every store at the mall with the girls for a very specific outfit.

So where is he? Where is this guy that knows how amazing I am and can't wait to introduce me to everyone he knows?

Dating is so much harder than I ever thought it would be! Charlotte (Sex & the City) was right when she said even her hair hurts from searching for THE ONE.

Update: The First Kiss

He hasn't called.

Of course, I didn't actually want him to call. I'd rather kiss a fish than risk locking lips with this guy again, but still...he hasn't called.

Did he actually think that horrible tongue on tongue action was my fault? I'm the one that was frantically wiping my mouth afterward and had to brush my teeth...repeatedly.

Why hasn't he called? I was bubbly and fun during dinner. He's the one that assaulted MY mouth at the end of the night - not the other way around. Haven't I earned the small joy of watching his name come up on my phone and sending him straight to voicemail? I want to be the one to decide that we'll not be going out again!

He should have called.

A Midnight Visitor

My roommate Kimberley and I decided to take advantage of the long weekend and hit up Carpool on Sunday night. An old friend of hers was going to be there, and I was ready to have some fun after my friend Charlie* ditched me earlier in the evening - after which I ended up coming home from the grocery store with a bottle of wine instead of the milk I had intended to get. Bottoms up!

It was a low-key night at the bar, and we were just hanging out. I spent most of the night talking to Kimberley's buddy Dave*. Given that I'd finished the entire bottle of wine before heading to Carpool, I was ready for bed about midnight. I said my goodbyes, gave Dave my number and got into a cab. I was sound asleep 20 minutes later.

At 4am, though, I woke up to the sound of voices. Apparently, Kimberley had brought Dave home with her, because they weren't done catching up by the time the bar closed - which I learned as I walked out of my bedroom in a t-shirt and boy shorts with mascara caked around my eyes!

"What are YOU doing here?" I said. Not quite the reaction Dave had expected, I think. In fact, it seemed more like he was hoping I'd welcome him with open arms. Not likely!

Kimberley had just finished making Velveeta shells and cheese (a fav in our house) and I was happy to help her eat it. But by then she was ready for bed and left me alone to entertain Dave while he waited for his cab - the last thing I wanted to do. Poor guy, he couldn't seem to understand why I wasn't ecstatic to see him.

Generally speaking, I like to leave the bar scene at the bar. If a guy wants to see me again, he can ask me out on a proper date. While Dave was nice, I wasn't exactly waiting by the phone for him to call, and was NOT excited to see him in my house only a few hours later. Not to mention he'd just woken me up from a sound sleep, and made some comment about four-eyes (are we back in third grade?) in regard to the glasses I was rockin'. As I downed my late-night snack, I kept one eye out the window for the cab's headlights, and finally, finally it arrived.

I stopped just short of shoving Dave out the door as he looked at me with confusion on his face. "So, uh, you gave me your number earlier..." he said. "Yes," I replied. "Feel free to use it - but get out of my house!"

• *Names changed to protect identities.

Update: The Socially Awkward

Lauren's date texted to see if she'd like to go out again. Because she didn't want to beat around the bush, she wrote back and said "No thanks, we're not a good match."

He texted again and asked what he did wrong. It seems he's been out on a lot of dates lately, and things aren't going well, so any insight she can offer into why he's being rejected would be very helpful - his words!

Should she point out his wrong turn to him , or just let it go?

The Socially Awkward

Have you ever been on a date and within the first 30 seconds, literally, realized it was a bad idea?

That's how my roommate would describe her experience last week. Like any veteran dater, Lauren* was unwilling to give up a Friday night for a first date (especially since she couldn't remember exactly where or when she'd met this guy), so she agreed to early drinks at Whitlow's before getting on with the rest of her evening.

Lauren's not what you'd call difficult to talk to - the exact opposite in fact. She's super bubbly and friendly, and is one of those people that just invites conversation. Granted, with her long blonde hair, preppy style and swimmer's body (D1 college athlete!), I could see where she might be intimidating to some guys. But she's an elementary school teacher - she's able to communicate with even the most emotionally stunted.

Apparently, the moment they sat down, though, Lauren's date began to pepper her with a series of questions rather than having a conversation - we can only assume he was doing his best to avoid the dreaded awkward silence. After covering everything from favorite movie, food and bar in rapid succession, he moved onto the less obvious.

"Do you know what the five German car brands are?" he asked.

Lauren was familiar with BMW, having spent some time near the plant in South Carolina while growing up, but didn't really care beyond that. So she changed the subject.

Big mistake. Investigative reporter guy was not to be deterrred. After a few minutes spent on another topic, he said, "Well, just in case you were wondering, the five brands are..." (I don't know all the manufacturers, and since Lauren was no longer really listening at that point, she was unable to relay them to me while telling this story).

He continued his line of questioning by asking Lauren if she knew of any other ice breakers, and she asked what his favorite color was. "Uh, I don't really have one," he said.

Her response: "You're asking me about German cars, and you can't even tell me what your favorite color is?"

She said afterward it was like being at an interview for a job she didn't want.

I think we can say this guy is safely in the barnacle category on the "Levels of Crustacean Love."

• *Names have been changed to protect the subject's identity, and more importantly, the ego of the bad date, should he or his friends read this.

The First Kiss

How can anyone, guy or girl, reach the age of 31 and not know how to kiss? I'm truly stumped by this question. I understand that not everyone is necessarily "popular," but we all find our place in a social circle and it would seem logical that from the age of 14 or so you'd get SOME type of practice - even if it's always while drunk.

In any case, I had a date last night at Sequoia with a guy I'd met two weeks before at Sign of the Whale. I wouldn't say I was dying to see this guy again, but he'd been pretty persistent in asking me out and seemed excited about taking me to dinner. Why turn down a good meal?

We met at the front door and while the food was good, it was obvious in about 20 minutes that I would not be going out with him again. He's a very nice guy, we just weren't really clicking. I figured we'd enjoy dinner, go our separate ways, and that would be that.

Unfortunately, I was wrong.

Since it was a gorgeous night, he wanted to walk by the waterfront after dinner. As I had no interest in prolonging the evening, I steered him instead toward my car so we could say good night. I take my personal bubble pretty seriously, and unless I really like a guy, do not invite him into my space. Keeping a good distance between us, I thanked him for dinner - and he took this as his cue to grab my chin and invade my mouth!

We're talking full tongue on tongue action for a good 45 seconds - even though I tried to pull away twice! And the kiss was NOT good. In fact, it was my worst kiss ever - I never judge a kisser by the first encounter, but this was soooo bad that even if I'd fallen madly in love with the guy, I would not have wanted to repeat the experience.

Just because a guy wants to drop $80 on dinner, does not mean I'm automatically going to make out with him. And that's what this was - there was no slow start with a grand finale, just full speed ahead from the start. As he walked away, I was furiously wiping my mouth and counting down the seconds until I could get to my toothbrush.

At least he didn't say he would call - let's hope he doesn't!

Levels of Crustacean Love

Those 20-somethings who used to spend at least a portion of Thursday night glued to NBC for “Friends” may remember an episode in which Phoebe compares Ross and Rachel’s relationship to lobsters.

“Hang in there, it's gonna happen,” Phoebe says to Ross. “She’s your lobster.”

To the gang’s incredulity, Phoebe goes onto explain further with, “C'mon you guys,” she says. “It's a known fact that lobsters fall in love and mate for life. You know what, you can actually see old lobster couples walkin' around their tank, ya know, holding claws like...”

My roommates and I recently took Phoebe’s philosophy one step further – we’ve decided that all guys fall somewhere on the “Levels of Crustacean Love.”

As we sat at O’Sullivans one night checking out the possibilities (we just recently realized this bar tends to be more guys than girls, putting the odds in our favor!), we were laughing over someone’s date gone wrong. I don’t remember which boy we were discussing or why he just wasn’t cutting it, but one of the girls declared, “That’s not your lobster! He’s a shrimp!”

So true – both in height and general relationship potential! As we cracked up laughing, we searched for other types of crustaceans that might be a better fit - “He’s a crayfish!” and “No, he’s algae!” were some of the better ones.

With the help of Wikipedia the next day (it turns out, algae are NOT crustaceans) we put together the following chart and qualifications, from bottom to top, to categorize future dates’ potential:

• Barnacle (not worth a second meeting)
• Shrimp (doesn’t totally disgust you)
• King Crab (fun to hang with, but no real connection)
• Crayfish (you like him, but you’re not sure yet if he’s the real deal)
• Lobster (aka soul mate)

The “Levels of Crustacean Love” are now posted on our fridge, and as we date, we’re keeping track of which group a guy is in. Movement between categories, up or down, is allowed in conjunction with group discussion about the reasons for the climb or fall.