Eating with a spoon

There was a free open bar party (loved the concept, but still in almost not drinking mode, so just grabbed 2 or 3 small glasses of champagne) last Friday for the reopening of one of the coolest bars in town. The party was a well kept secret, so it wasn't crazy crowded but at the same time attracted the regulars from last fall.

Every time I go to such bar I, at the same time, fear and hope I will run into Danish guy. Didn't happen this time, instead, an adorable 25 year old German crossed my path.
After the party, my friends and I voted to go clubbing, the German kid decided to ditch his friends and tagged along. At the club we went to a still empty dance floor and slow danced to pop hits, completely out of the place's rhythm, totally into ours.

We kissed, made out like 25 years old do and engaged in a discussion on what would be a girl's goal in a night out. I mean, except for the "hang with my girlfriends or dance crap"...

I figured that are 3 alternatives, depending on the type of girl or the mood of the night:

1) Prince hunting: finding the man of the girl's dream is the ultimate goal;
2) Making out with a tall, young, handsome German (category I included myself into); or
3) Just as guys, get laid.

He was happy with my answer, but spent good part of the night trying to transfer me from category 2 to 3.

After the traditional discussion: "nothing else besides what is already happening will happen if I go to your place", I decided to join him for the night - to be honest, given my choice of underwear, I clearly had bad intentions even before leaving my house.

Truth to my world, we just continued making out, but I got the spooning as a bonus.

Next morning, before the walk of shame - thanking God I had an outfit that was also suitable for the day - he asked me if I wanted his number. I said no, but if he wanted mine that would be fine.

I gave the kid my number to immediately regret not taking his. I mean: this is definitely not a guy I would be interested in having a relationship with (otherwise, in our twisted world, I would probably not even have kissed him), far younger and newer to town than what I'm currently looking for... But, he would actually be the "perfect tool" to:

A) Avoid reaching out to Danish guy when nature calls (and, trust me, after almost 6 months, it is calling...); and
B) Keeping up the good behaviour with the guys I actually consider having a relationship with.

I know that's ridiculous (especially "B"), I would be the first one to criticize the concept, but I'm far too tired to keep on challenging the system. That's how things are...

Anyway, I'm pretty sure the kid is not going to call, which is perfectly fine, he served his purpose: sometimes, a girl just need to spoon.

Bisous
Anne

Full stop

The "taking it slow" reached a "full stop" point. The frequency of daily emails reduced and no more dates happened.

We actually tried to see each other, he asked me out, but I got really sick and ended up being away from social life - and from the country - for more than 2 weeks. My main theory is that he found another girl, maybe one more compatible with him.

On my end, I wish he had been cuter when he found out I was sick. Not that we were in a stage of the "relationship" that it would be expected for him to worry and take care of me, not that I would even allow him to see me (trust me, I looked awful), but he could have been more attentive.

To sum up, I guess we both realized we are 2 great people, but just not too great for each other. I hope eventually we become friends (and maybe he could introduce me to some other cuties).

Besides the "Eli end of story", I ended up going out with this Swiss - VERY Swiss - guy yesterday. I met him in February and since then we've been talking - texting - about meeting up for a drink. I know, it's ridiculous taking 6 months to set up a simple date. I take my share of responsibility, the guy once asked me out a month in advance the proposed date... being Latina, I could not take that seriously so just replied with a "call me next month".

Finally, 10 days ago (VERY Swiss), we agreed on meeting yesterday. I had very low expectations - really, 6 months to set up a date??? If he is Mr. Right, we will be getting married by the time we are 80 in this rhythm! - but when he showed up I realised he was waaaayyyy more handsome than what I remembered: tall, light blond hair, blue eyes, glasses, adorable nerdy face. A perfect Anne's boy.

We started the date at 6:30pm (did I mention he is VERY Swiss?!), had some wine (just one glass for me, since I'm still not fully recovered), talked non-stop. No awkward moments. At some point he suggested meeting up so he could help me with my German, which I took as an indication of him wanting to see me again in the future.

We said goodbye around 10pm , kiss on the cheek (VERY Swiss) and "we keep in touch" (which I - and probably all of you too - hate). But he added that we should meet up again after my vacation in September (...) or maybe before (I guess he could see in my face that the "keep in touch" and "see you in a month" were not crowed pleaser).

Anyway, this one is actually better in person than on paper, but something tells me I should not hold my breath waiting for him to set up date#2... Good dating practice though.

Bisous
Anne

My weekend outside NY. Way outside of NY

I got on a flight out to Pittsburgh to meet the new beaus' colleagues, parents and friends. The beginning was a disaster. My flight was packed ans I arrived to an awkward welcome. It had been three weeks since we'd seen each other and between the cheap square toe shoe and nervous laugh he had. Our first few hours were awful, and he claimed that all of the jittery energy had something to do with 3 cups of late afternoon coffee. Yeah right.



The company party went off well and the awkwardness wore off. I think it was a combination of cocktails, good food, and my remembering what I liked about him.



Saturday was a significant improvement, and things got better every hour. Some time with the parents, friends from high school, neighbors... Met them all. And I was dressed to impress them all. Beach cover ups, gold sandals, jewelry changes,... I was the fanciest person in all of Pittsburgh! Ha. Isn't it a NY motto that overdressed is always better than underdressed?



Saturday night we barhopped and ended up at his parents house late. We decided that the best idea was to sleep together in his childhood room. I've never done that before. The morning was a bit awkward at breakfast with his mom, at least for me.



Oh, and the piece that I almost left out - the sex and the city nightmare - Sunday morning consisted of that on and off sleep. My stomach was killing me from drinking, junk food, and weekend without much bathroom privacy. You can guess the horrendous feeling when an unladylike noise escaped. We both pretended we were asleep. But I know we weren't. It was awful. How can that be forgotten? Not only does his mom think I'm a slut, he thinks I'm a pig!



Ayayay. At least he still seemed into me on Sunday during the day. We've got plans for 2 weeks from now.



Xx

Lauren