Remember a couple of months ago, when I told you about the PhD. I think some of you questioned my judgement when I posted about it. And to be honest, I did as well and actually took down the posts. But today, I’ve changed my mind and the posts are back up. So if you want the full story, you’ll also want to read this and this.

And why do I bring all of this up again? Because this past weekend, when I was enjoying a lovely time with my family, I got a text. Rather than tell you about it, I’m just going to post it word for word (no editing) because really, there’s no way to properly describe this. Oh, but before you read it, you need to know that the PhD’s name is actually Wayne.

From a random New York number:

Hi Chloe. i found ur # in 
my husband Wayne’s
phone, apparently he
is/was cheating. Thought u
should know. So sorry… 😦

Yeah. Read it one more time in case you are thinking you’re eyes deceived you. They didn’t. Or read it one more time imagining you’re me. Talk about a text I wasn’t expecting to EVER receive in my life.

So, now I know why he was so flakey. And why he never made plans. And why, before I ever even thought about it, he told me that he’d prefer not to be Facebook friends (incidentally, I didn’t think anything about this because I’m not necessarily all about being FB friends with just anyone I date.) Oh, and most importantly, that he’s a total sleaze bag.

Because I know you’re all dying to know what I did in response to this text (or I would be if I were you), I’m just going to tell you. I texted his wife back and told her that I was so sorry and that I had no idea he was married. She was super nice (to me) and said she wasn’t upset or mad at me, that he was to blame. The marriage is over, but she though that all of the women (“and I mean ALL”) involved needed to know what a jerk he was in case he contacted us again.

Bottom line, there are some horrible people in the world. Some of them are men. And for some reason, I have a penchant for dating them…although this is by far the worst of them. So, let’s just say I’ve decided to take a little break from dating.

In other news, my weekend in Indiana with the fam was super fun!

So, I’ve been dumped before. And it has not been a pleasant experience. But even less pleasant is doing the dumping. I pretty much hate it. People are all for the “soft dump” but I am not good at it. I never have been. And personally, I don’t really like being on the receiving end of the soft dump. Or the soft let down. Or the soft rejection. The bottom line is ripping the band-aid off hurts whether you do it slowly or quickly. I also think the “soft” anything unintentionally encourages false hope. That or it makes people feel even worse because they know you’re just trying to make it less painful.

I actually appreciate a direct dump. Just get it over with so I can move on with my life. So, in true golden rule fashion (p.s. I don’t actually think the golden rule is well thought out…we should really worry about treating others how they want to be treated, not how we would want to be treated), I did exactly what I would prefer to have someone do. I just came out with it. Well, after three days of minimal contact where there had been maximal contact before. (Yes, maximal is a word…although it’s an exaggeration in this case, but whatevs…a lot of contact.)

The thing that I don’t feel great about is that I did it over text message and I didn’t really feel bad about it. I mean, on some level I might have, but there were no real alternatives. As he had decided that our main medium of communication would be texting (and by main, I mean only other than when we were actually on a date) anything else just felt like it would be kind of weird. So, this morning I rejected him via text. I tried to be nice about it, while remaining direct, but apparently I should just stick with what I know and not try to add any sugar because my friend informed me that I failed miserably and probably just made it worse.

Anyway, it’s over. And the whole reason I really started writing this post was not to tell you all about my text message but to capture the following. While I sometimes know it’s time to cut off a relationship and I do believe that direct is best, sometime my actions aren’t so clear. The void that I feel in my life just from the lack of communication or attention or whatever often breaks my resolve to have a clean break and really be done which isn’t fair to these guys who really are good people (usually). So, today, right after I sent the text message and he responded and it was clearly over, I purged him from my phone completely. It was done as soon as it was over. And it’s a good thing too, because right now the attention needing, insecure girl in me is wishing she could just text him a little bit more or go out one more time or maybe just have a little breakup make out. (Not that I think of this as a breakup–it was six weeks–but you get the point.)

The good news is there’s nothing I can do. I have no way of contacting him. So it’s done. And I feel good about it. And I’m sure he’s fine. Really, I’m sure he was starting to see that we were not MFEO. But oh, the lack of attention is hard to deal with.

So, it’s back to the drawing board. And I think, for now, the drawing board isn’t going to consist of me trying to capture the perfect guy, but more me trying to create the perfect me, whether the guy ever comes into the picture. A me that doesn’t crave the attention of a guy quite so much and is content with her very good, very fun, very happy life.

Note: In an effort to create this “best” me, I am about to go to bed (it’s 8:40 pm NY time) so I’m not rereading this or editing it. Please don’t judge the missed words, mixed up letters, or hanging prepositions. I’m sure I’ll come back and fix them later. 

I’m on vacation in Vegas right now with Sarah and Kelly. It’s currently 5:55 AM local time and I’m on a conference call. So as not to completely piss off my lovely friends, I came downstairs and am sitting in the cafe adjacent to the casino. The call started at 5 am, meaning I got out of bed at 4:55 AM – no reason to get ready at all when I’m going right back to bed when this is over. At least that’s what I thought…

I’ve been reading Patti Stanger’s book, Become Your Own Matchmaker. One of the things she talks about, in terms of getting guys to ask you out, is going places alone so that you are approachable. And so that you aren’t competing with your prettiest friend. The “prettiest friend” piece totally makes sense. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think I’m ugly. But I do think I have a lot of girlfriends who are prettier/thinner/sexier (do people use that word?) than I am. And this is obvious when we are all out together. Certain friends always get the attention. Not a big deal since we are not generally out “cruising for guys”. I appreciate that I have such attractive friends. That doesn’t change the fact that it’s true.

Moving on…I also get the whole “go places alone” idea. It makes sense. One woman…much easier to approach than 3 or 4 or 5. That said, almost never do this. Not because I have issues going places alone (I will go to movies, lunch, dinner, concerts, etc, alone), but in both my personal life and my work life, there are just a lot of people I want to see on a regular basis and so when I go out, it’s usually to see them. I also just struggle with the idea of getting all ready to go out by myself. Not to mention, I have zero interest in meeting someone in a bar, which then begs the question, “Now that I’m all dressed up and ready to go, where do I go?”

Well, shame on me for not making an effort to figure out the answer to that question and make it happen. As I have been sitting here in this little cafe, this guy sat down not too far from me and keeps looking over. Of course, my instant thought is that he must be staring at my oh-so-cute pajamas that I am wearing–with a hoodie. And not in a good way. Not to mention the half-wet bun in my hair as a result of my shower just before bed. I feel super attractive. Oh, and lest I forget to mention, he’s the type of guy I would actually want to check me out (i.e. age appropriate, good looking, has game, etc).

So, I’m sitting here, semi-mortified and trying to focus on my computer and my conference call and in walk his four friends. They obviously have yet to go to bed after last night’s adventures. They are now all glancing over at me, trying to be sly about it. And now, one of them has actually decided to talk to me. He apologizes for how loud they are being. They are having a good time and laughing lots–however, it’s not like the cafe is quiet otherwise. Side note: I’m enjoying the Wynn, but the elevator-ish music they play everywhere at high volumes is kind of obnoxious…I am not yet their target market (thankfully).

After sitting at my table, attempting to look very focused on what I’m doing and for them to not know that I’ve seen them see me, I now have an opportunity to acknowledge them. I smile broadly and tell them “No big deal.” I have the line muted and am just listening, so it really isn’t a big deal. I notice, when I smile, that they are all looking at me and smiling. This is a moment when I am oh-so-grateful that I have become aware that one of my best features is my smile (Patti would be proud). So, despite the fact that I am in my St. Patrick’s Day PJs and a red hoodie with no makeup on (let’s just say I’ve looked better), I know that now that I’m smiling, that is all they’re seeing.

I’m still on my conference call and have to turn my focus back on my computer. I continue to notice them without looking at them and am attempting to look as attractive as possible–in other words, not making my “I’m so focused” face, which creates a big crease in my forehead. But every so often, I look their way and smile, making eye contact with whomever happens to be looking. And it’s flattering to realize that there is always someone looking…who readily smiles back.

They are all getting up to leave now. (In an ideal world, I wouldn’t still be on this call. I also wouldn’t be in my PJs so that I wouldn’t be embarrassed to stand up.) The original guy hangs out a little longer than the rest, making himself busy clearing their table. Now, all but one of his friends has left, but he is lingering by the door just waiting. Original guy comes over to the trash can by me (less convenient than the one closer to his table and on the way out the door), dumps his tray and starts talking to me. Of course, this is right when I have to be paying attention to my conference call because my initiatives are being discussed, so I am doing my best to engage, smile, and also speed things along.

We chatted for a minute and now he is on his way. Not ideal. Also not the point.

The point? Patti is totally right. (Not that I ever questioned her, but it’s always great to have confirmation from personal experience.) Sitting alone means you’re not being compared to your friends and you are totally approachable. The other lesson…NEVER, ever go into a public space in your PJs, no matter how cute they are or how little you think you care because you never know when you might meet someone.

And now, the conference call is ending and I will head back to my room (avoiding a glance in any of the hundreds of mirrors in this hotel/casino, so that I won’t know just how rough I look) and go back to bed for a couple of hours. Working on vacation turned out to be not such a bad thing.

***Please don’t judge my inconsistent use of tenses. I didn’t get very much sleep and typed this as it was all happening, which means I was focused on three different things at once. Never the best combination.

I had a great conversation tonight with a new friend. Jessica is my co-teacher for my primary class and we got together for dessert to discuss strategy. She’s got the teaching expertise (high school teaching). I’ve got the kid knowledge (seven nieces and nephews). We’re a good team…but not really the point of this post.

Anyway, after working through the details of strategy, structure, and implementation for our little class (yeah…my job does leak into everything I do), we got down to girl talk. She got married young. I’m still single. She likes to hear my stories. I like to talk. It works.

She was asking me about the boy I’d been interested in the last time we talked boys. I couldn’t remember which one it was…so apparently, I’ve moved on. But I still had plenty to report.

While relaying these stories, I shared with her the recent epiphanies I’ve had as I’ve spent some time with some guys I would have never normally been interested in. There’s nothing wrong with these guys…they just aren’t necessarily part of my social scene. And maybe they’re not what I would ever imagine dating. But for some reason, I’ve been thrown into these situations that have lent themselves to continued interaction.

And all of these epiphanies have made me realize that I kind of like these guys. Sure, they aren’t the type I normally want (I was going to say “go after”, but let’s be honest…I don’t normally go after anyone), but there’s something about all of them that has made me realize that maybe I’ve been going after the wrong guys. As Patti likes to say, maybe my picker is broken. But admitting that maybe I actually like these types of guys…? Another issue.

And these have all been leading me to one thought. A thought that wouldn’t form, but it was there. A thought that Jessica articulated perfectly tonight. (I wish you could have seen my reaction when she spoke these words…it was almost comical. Small jump in my seat. Eyes widened. Sharp intake of breath. Hands moving as I struggled to contain the thoughts pushing their way from my brain to my mouth without any kind of order.)

“Wanting what we want is hard.”

Think about it. How often do we want what we think we should want? Or what we think others want?  Or what we think others want us to want? Or, or, or?

Wanting what we really want (and admitting it and owning it) is scary. At least for me. And this is what my recent experiences with these very unlikely boys has made me realize. I have been wanting what I thought I should want. I did the same thing when I was deciding what direction to go in b-school. I wanted to do marketing because I thought I should want to do marketing. It made sense. My dad understood it. I didn’t feel a need to justify my decision to anyone. But the reality was that I was terrified of going into marketing because it wasn’t what I was going to be happy doing, and truthfully, I would have sucked at it. But admitting that what I wanted was to go into HR…well, that wasn’t easy. And yet, once I did it, I was so much happier and it was so clear that that’s what I really wanted…and I have been successful so far because it’s a good fit for me.

The same seems to be true with boys…only I’ve been much slower to figure it out. But during the past month of my life, I have started to understand what I really want. (No confessions here…I’m not secretly dating anyone nor have I fallen for anyone, just been exposed to some new ideas in the dating arena…and by ideas, I mean boys that I’ve had to figure out how to wrap my head around.) And maybe, when I find this hypothetical guy, I will have to justify it to my friends or family because he isn’t going to be exactly what they will think I should want. And maybe it is a little scary because it’s not what I think I should want. But, so what? Is it tough to actually want what I want and let go of the images that I had created in my head of the person I thought I wanted to find? Of course. But can I tell that I’m going to be happier in the end by doing so? Absolutely.

And, as if that wasn’t enough fun for one evening, when I got home, in preparation for tomorrow’s concert which I will be attending, I downloaded Ian Axel’s new album, This Is the New Year, and the first song on the album is called “Leave Me Alone”. While the lyrics may sound slightly bitter, given the conversation I had just had, they were so in line with all of my thoughts. Isn’t it about being honest, after all? Honest with others, but more importantly, honest with ourselves.

Leave Me Alone

It’s not easy when you say that you’re sorry.
It’s not easy when you say you don’t love me at all.

You don’t lovely me anymore.
You keep coming back for more.
If you don’t love me anymore, leave me alone.
Leave me alone.
Leave me alone.
Leave alone.