All Quiet on the DC Front

February 23, 2012

Abbey.

Nothing new to report dating-wise on my end. I went on a second date on Valentine’s Day with a guy who I think might be gay, and Michael (dream guy, in older post) showed up. He came over and said hello, we introduced the people we were with (he was with a guy who I assume is a friend), we chatted a bit, all while I freaked out on the inside. Later, we texted back and forth for a bit, where the most exciting thing he said to me was that he was sorry he came over and talked to me, but he couldn’t help it. I was glad he could see that I’m not waiting around for him. And I’m glad that he hasn’t forgotten about me. Who knows if he’ll ever call, but it made Valentine’s Day at least a little more significant than I’d generally consider it.

I haven’t been on any dates since then, and even before, I’d only been out once or twice in the few weeks prior. I’m sort of taking a break from dating to make some solid friends here. So far, some of the Meetup girls seem to be working out, though it’s a slow process. I’m hosting a breakfast for dinner potluck thing the Saturday before NYC weekend with three of these girls and a bunch of each other’s friends, and I think we’re all pretty excited. They certainly aren’t a replacement for you ladies in Boston, but there are one or two that would at least be good additions should we all ever end up in the same place.

On another note, I don’t know how many of you have read Tracy McMillan’s “Why You’re Not Married” article, but it’s an interesting read. It certainly doesn’t apply to everyone, but to those who have been looking for a relationship or want to get married soon, it can make you take a step back and go, huh, am I being perceived as a bitch, a slut, shallow, or selfish? I’m sure everyone exhibits each of these traits to some extent, but it does make you think about how you think you present yourself versus how others perceive you. And it also reinforces, at least for me, that as much as I’d like to be dating someone, I’m definitely not going to settle just to reach some sort of goal.

I am a dating machine

August 17, 2010

It’s true.  I had two dates last week, two this week (one is a second date), and two that are not yet scheduled but will be happening at some point.

Date One last week was with this guy named Chris (I almost typed Christ) who took me to a Nationals game.  His friend is a pitcher for them, so we got to sit in the Diamond Club, where all the players’ wives, girlfriends, and children sit.  And anyone who wants to spend $150 on a Nationals ticket (ridiculous).  That was the best part about the date.  Let’s just say he looked like an Oompa Loompa and walked with his stomach.  He called this weekend to ask me out again and said he had a really good time (really?  I did all the talking).  I did not call him back.

Date Two from last week (he is also Date Two this week) took me to Brickskeller for beers.  He knew what a milk stout was, and he brews his own beer.  Also, he likes Sam Adams (Megan!).  He is a little awkward nerdy, but I’ll chalk it up to nervousness.  He suggested many awesome restaurants for date 2, including Rasika and Me Jana, but it’s Restaurant Week and it’s impossible to get reservations/there would be way too many people.  So we are going to an Italian restaurant that has his favorite pizza in the city, and also where his grandparents had their first date.  AWESOME DATE IDEA!  (No sarcasm, I promise, I think it’s totally cute.)  I looked it up on Yelp and apparently it has red and white checked tablecloths and drippy candles.  Actually really excited.

Tonight I am meeting up with some guy named Oliver, possibly only because his name is Oliver.  Either way, he picked a good spot for drinks (Eighteenth Street Lounge) that I’ve been wanting to check out.  I possibly have a date with this other guy named Seth, but we haven’t picked a day yet.  And I am going to go out with Jewboy (his name is Harris Rubin, I am not even kidding you) next week when he gets back from vacation.  I decided it’s okay to like him and I am looking forward to seeing him/making out with someone.

August 8.  Meg.

Andrew Bird manages to incorporate lamb into more songs than seems possible for one singer/songwriter.  I mean, roasted leg of lamb, dining on the young of sheep, more legs of lamb…. even a honey coated ham, but I think that was just a serendipitous rhyme. One day I’ll make a project of counting all the songs that involve the digestion of this docile creature.

Friday.  Alex and I did not eat leg of lamb. We ate lamb haggis, a part of the lamb that Andrew Bird seems to avoid, probably because it’s nothing to write home about. But for all of you who avoid it out of fear, fear not! It’s good if you like liver, and if you don’t, it’s still kind of good.   Beers made with seaweed and chocolate, intelligent and amusing conversation, dark bars with bartenders with accents who forget to charge pretty redheads for their beers…. sure I ate more than he did, but he didn’t seem to mind and he has an easy smile. I think we’ll do it again.

Sunday. I cancelled my date with the boy who introduced me to my new favorite adjective, “castrating”. Home is such a nice place to be sometimes, and when was the last time I got to read an entire novel in a single Sunday? I asked for a raincheck and intend to take myself up on my offer. I guess tonight I’m in my “cold & independent” mood. It warms me.

Sunday. I cancelled my date. I’m hungry. I open my fridge. I think, where have these ladies been all my life!? No matter, they’re here now. Some leftovers from last night’s Sangria and appetizer deck party are awaiting my plate. I do nothing more than toss some arugula with mustard, oil & lemon, red onion and salt pepper, and this is what I end up with. Heaven.

My phone doesn’t take the best food photos, but I promise, it was like heaven.  Mari’s panzanella made with bread that stubbornly refuses to get soggy.  Katie’s expertly herbed zucchini and feta tart.  Kate’s finger-licking good chicken wings that made me eat every bit on my plate with my fingers, my fork, bored and lonely, pushed aside.  Ladies, thank you for dinner, and please never change.

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