Done.

For a girl who hasn't dated in what feels like two presidential election cycles, last weekend was pretty darn social.

The aforementioned Organ Tuner incident Friday. A baby-shower BBQ for 25 for C&A on Saturday. The reemergence of a certain urologist from Indianapolis -- church friend last seen in 2003 -- that led to a Sunday lunch date and walk through the Public Garden.

I even attempted some valid networking later that night: drinks at Enormous Room via Opus Affair, a group that brings Boston artists together for a drinks outings. Risking egoism, I give myself points....I dressed up pretty, went by myself, knowing no one. Which proved to be a tough nut. The crowd stood in tight twos and threes deep in conversation; I downed one potent vodka drink, met one striking professional baritone, and left an hour later.

So, 9 p.m. Sunday instead found me over at M's apartment in Jamaica Plain. M is my girl gossip friend.....listening to months of ranting about Another Man solidified her credentials. In return she shares details of her own relationship (with a Republican!), itself full of aggravations. This summer, after six months of dating, M learned that her man saw this "relationship" much differently than she....as in, casual and not for the long-term. She's still deciding what to think about this but they're still together... which has produced months of fodder for our conversations.

In the meantime, I admire her: since they're only "casual," M has a side affair going on, just ramping up and very fresh. And which falls much closer in tone to my thing with the CFO. (Who, by the way, has been persona non grata for 13 days.) This is what we hashed out on Sunday, lounging on her bed in our socks, like a slumber party: lots and lots and lots about "casual dating," and what one should expect.

Speaking of the CFO, I left my conversation with M deciding I'm done with him. Done. Done. He ended his last message with a "talk soon." I've always believed that as a professional casual dater, if he wanted to end it, he would end it without a lot of fuss. But he has not tried to reach me, and he has not replied to an e-mail I wrote last Thursday.

However, he is continuing to post ads on Craigslist; joking with M, I bet that he was. So as we chatted I typed the words "playful" and "fit" (2 of his favorites) into the personals search engine. And sure enough, one titled "Sweetness" (another favorite) appeared from October 5. Using his writing style, language, overt exclamation points, neighborhood. Looking for playful, fit, ladies to keep warm with.

On the terms of our arrangement, this is certainly within his rights. Maybe I'm just jealous that he's driving for other dates and I haven't felt like it. Maybe I've lost patience with the arrangement. Or certainly expected that as casual as our arrangement was, he'd periodically check in before checking out entirely. M theorizes that he isn't cutting things off because he's trying to keep all options open. Well I'm hardly thrilled to simply be someone's open option....or maybe I was and maybe, again, I'm just done.

One of my favorite song lines ever comes courtesy of Semisonic, in "Closing Time": Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end. Whenever something new starts I never want to think that it will end with me ultimately dissatisfied....yet in many cases, that is the case. There must be an end to be a new beginning.

Which is why I'm done.