Savvy birds

Memorial Day, noontime, at L'Aroma on Newbury.  

Chic enough to enjoy the crumbs of a spinach, feta and red-pepper quiche.

Civilized enough to share.

Beating the blues with blue

Sometimes a weekend brings positives:

Sunshine.  Three 5-mile runs in 3 days.  Red impatiens in the patio pots.  Clean sheets. Spiked coffee at Cafe Arpeggio.  Sunday nights when Monday is a vacation. And did I say sunshine?

Sometimes a weekend brings negatives (and in this case, really only one):

Cleaning up on a Friday night, driving the 20 miles to Wellesley for a first date, to get there and discover the date isn't there.  Order Grey Goose Bloody Mary to appear chic and unaffected to bartender and busboy who both ask, several times, if I'm waiting for a companion before dinner, then try to pay and leave without ordering any only to discover Wellesley is a "dry town" and I must order food with my drink anyway.  Drive the 20 miles home, 20 dollars poorer and alone, to read an e-mail the length of a novel from said gone-missing date .... about how the restaurant was too noisy and how he had wanted to call and suggest a quieter place but he had left my phone number on a paper in his other pants pocket and how because I arrived late he wasn't sure if  I was coming so he just went home .... but hopes to eventually re-make a date when he gets back from a work trip and a vacation to Florida .... on June 12 ... if I'll allow him.

I thought about all these things this afternoon at the best possible place to think about everything -- Nantasket Beach


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when the temperature is 75 and sunny and the tide is warm enough to walk in and there is 3 miles of the tide, on top of soft white sand, and it takes 2 hours to walk that much, and it seems not to matter that dating with any degree of success feels harder than an Everest ascent, lately, especially when I'm grateful to live only 30 minutes from the wickedly endless Atlantic, which is so much bigger and amazing than anything I can offer up.

Grateful (V)

That I received an e-mail from my company's IT head this morning, saying

"Power will be shut down for the entire building over the weekend. It will be turned off at 10PM Friday night and restored by 10PM Sunday.  This means all of our systems will be unavailable during this time including email..."

so that I had no reason

(after spending 8 straight hours (8!) on this, the last Friday before the summer calculating the historical cost basis on one client's mishmash of stock certificates and spreadsheets and e-mail records and dividend reinvestment plans and splits and mergers for XOM and IBM and T and RY)

to come in here this weekend and spend even one minute under the fluorescents for any God-given reason,

especially when I've got a date with a 5-mile run in a few minutes,

followed by a date in Wellesley with a divorced architect who has been pestering for awhile,

and then a date to reply to the polite e-mail from a 33-year-old runner (6', dark hair and eyes) from Arlington who wanted me to share my experiences from Reach the Beach Relay,

followed by a tomorrow that includes sleeping in, getting up to sit on my patio with an iced coffee and read the Times, and then planting impatiens in the patio flowerpots,

followed by a BBQ on Sunday ..... and a BBQ on Monday ....

which might mean I don't have to think until at least Tuesday about how the stock market tanked throughout May, particularly this week, and how the XOM cost basis calculations aren't yet complete.

Which will, by then, be June.  

Aaahhh.

DIBs: Cocktails

On the last 80-degree Wednesday evening in May, the DIBs hit up Southie for some patio cocktails at Franklin Southie.  Random Blog Reader and I were this time joined by Jen and Another Random Blog Reader. 

No bones about it.  We just sat for a couple hours and discussed  ..... Idiosyncratic Bostonians.  

Surprisingly and (again more and more not surprisingly), we knew many of the same characters.   Recognized screen names from websites.  When I launched into a story about man I'd gotten into several weeks of online conversation with before a relatively ill-fated live outing ... RBR injected with a wry smile: 

"That isn't _________, is it?"

And it was.

Don't worry .... we also discussed the horrifying possibility that we might be the Idiosyncratic ones. 

I can't speak entirely for my new friends, but I think we were striving for a sense of community and I think we found it:   four attractive (all), successful (all) mid-30s women.  Each with an active dating life and each with a litany of frustrations and sense of humor about it.  Each with an eerily encyclopedic knowledge of who has been hanging out on Match.com, OKCupid, PlentyOfFish, JDate.com.

All good reasons to get along.

In our other life circles we are the unmarried daughters or the one single in the group of married couples or the best friend of a dynamic guy who already has a girlfriend or the co-worker or the study partner.  In this circle we got to celebrate just being Singles in the City.

Nice.  Watch for the next one.

Bikini Challenge BV: Off wagon (and back on)

Once again,
relief,
that after a week of pure decadence,
the scale
(while not moving down)
did not move back up.

May 4 Poundage: CXXXVII
May 26 Poundage: CXXXI
June 20 Goal Poundage: CXXI
(Poundage to go: X)

Not always a fan of
staying status quo,
but when one reintroduces
Kashi GoLean (by the box)
and
chips and salsa (by the double basket)
and
strawberry pound cake (with homemade whipped cream)
into the
Weight Watchers plan,
one expects consequences.

Back on the wagon
I go.

Matching attitudes

Yesterday afternoon, I involved myself in a 3-hour instant messager session with a 26-y-old whose moniker is a graphic synonym for a man's genitals.   (His intials are HBI. You may do all further investigation and/or guesswork to figure out why. Good luck.)

It was not my original intention. It was during those idle moments that come at the end of any work day -- the tour of all personal websites -- and while on OKC, a window popped up:

HBI: Down to f***? I am.

Imagine a 2-minute gap.

Most days I ignore the crassness. And as you know, some days I engage it.

Karin: Not today. Sorry.
HBI: lol. Why you lyin?
K: Not. Sorry.
HBI: Is it because I'm vulgar?
K: Nope.
HBI: Then I should try back tomorrow?
K: Nope. I'm taking a break for a bit.
HBI: Alright, so it's not my game. Becuase I talk a good one. Clearly.
K: Well.I wouldn't quit your day job.
HBI: God, we would be bffls if you weren't so prude.
K: bffls?
HBI: Best Friends For Life
K: Hm. I was sure "f***ing" was a part of that. I'm surprised.
HBI: You were hoping.
K: Yes. You read my mind. Obviously you were holding out.
HBI: Occasionally I play hard to get.
K: Um. yeah.
HBI: We are a 49% match, and only 47% enemy. So...
K: only 47?
HBI: More of a match than enemy, so I don't see why you are acting like we aren't falling in love right now.
K: Falling? I've totally fell. 100%.
HBI: I'd be lyin if I said I had a hard time believing that.

Now we had moved towards the same page. I checked out his profile. Clearly written in a voice meant to convey sex-crazed stupidity. Clearly playing games for some other amusement. I called him on it.

HBI: Who wants to be fake, on a site like this? Not I.
K: Who, indeed.
HBI: I'm all about sincerity.
K: Evidently today you are Down to F***.
HBI: It's true.
K: As I would guess, based on your logic above.
HBI: Right, I just thought I would reiterate.

According to his profile, he used to be a grad student, which he elaborated on, telling me he was quitting to become a

K: Professional poker player?
HBI: Indeed. Too unorthodox for a good christian girl, like yourself.
K: Do you think I'm a spring chicken or what?
HBI: Late spring, early summer.

Smart ass.

HBI: You quoted my profile. Did you have more thoughts? Questions? I apologize for depriving you of the opportunity.
K: Well. You seem pretty witty. But your profile is kind of gross.
HBI: Yeah. It is. It used to be grosser. I mean, "more gross."
K: So why not just be witty in your profile. You could pull it off.
HBI: I don't feel like the majority are deserving.
K: The majority of who?
HBI: OKCUpid.... people. OKCupiders. OKCupidians
K: Wow. Do you meet a lot of stupid women?
HBI: That's what I generally aim for.
K: Hm. That's too bad.
HBI: Marionnettes....
K: Why did you aim for me?
HBI: Well, today is my day off. I was bored out of my mind, and you were online. I actually found your profile charming, but who has the time or energy for genuine effort?
K: Well, thanks for not lumping me in with the stupid girls. You put in the time or energy you feel like, I guess.
HBI: Well, when you rejected my initial effort, you threw down the gauntlet. I may be lazy, but I have my pride.
K: Hm. So what is the general response to your initial effort?
HBI: "Ditto"
K: No kidding.
HBI: haha, no. I have never actually tried that exact line before. But it was the funniest thing I could think of, spur of the moment.

Now.  On the same page.

K: Well, thanks for trying to be funny.
HBI: Not funny to you.
K: Earnestness on this site is overrated.
HBI: LOL
K: No. I'll take creative approaches to whatever more often than other things.
HBI: I have a hard time taking this site seriously. I mean, it's a place for sad lonely people. Neither of which would describe me.

The crux. It isn't me, either. But I wonder how many people look at my profile and think ..... 

HBI and I continued talking for another 2 hours. No-strings relationships. Previous SOs. Aspirations. What would a 37-year-old want on a date that a 26-year-old should know about. I've been in these chats before.....when the conversation flows so easily that the mechanics eventually start to show, because topics get brought up simply to keep the talking going.

Eventually he even started acting earnestly, a little. So did I.

K: OK. I do need to go. I, myself, am losing my lovable charm from sitting here so long.
HBI: Have fun now. If you want there to be a next time, you let me know.
K: Well, I enjoyed the chat.
HBI: ditto
K: Let's do it again. You know where to find me.
HBI: haha, I'll leave it up to you, unless it's really my job.
K: It is. If I have to educate you in the ways of the world, I will.
HBI: How traditional of you. I will try to think of a better opening line for next time. Be prepared.
K: I'm girding the loins already.

Who knows. Maybe he will, maybe he won't. Maybe I will, maybe I won't.

Kind of nice to find someone else, for at least an afternoon, who can match my cynicism and make it seem charming.

All the single ladies....

We're at 3 bodies and counting for Wednesday's outing at Franklin Cafe. Which is dandy and definitely enough to get the conversation flowing....

Although there are certainly more DIBs out there than are owing up to it, no? 

All are welcome. Let's make it a bigger party.

(datersidiosyncraticbostonians@gmail.com)

Um, for real?

Obviously, I'm not a neophyte to online dating.

Obviously, I'm not new to personalized, targeted e-mail solicitations with little or no basis in reality.

Yet, I got this mail from OKCupid tonight. I kind of don't want to think it has any merit. Then I remember the OKC founders are all Harvard summa cum laude math majors who treat dating as a series of doable algorithms.

And I kind of do.

Karin = good looking 

 "We are very pleased to report that you are in the top half of OkCupid's most attractive users. The scales recently tipped in your favor, and we thought you'd like to know.

"How can we say this with confidence? We've tracked click-thrus on your photo and analyzed other people's reactions to you.

"Your new elite status comes with one important privilege: You will now see more attractive people in your match results.  This new status won't affect your actual match percentages, which are still based purely on your answers and desired match's answers. But the people we recommend will be more attractive. Also! You'll be shown to more attractive people in their match results.

"Suddenly, the world is your oyster. Login now and reap the rewards. And, no, we didn't just send this email to everyone on OkCupid. Go ask an ugly friend and see."

The world is my oyster.

Who knew.

If I only knew what OKC's definition of "attractive" really was.

Bikini Challenge BV: Pool party

So, another week, another pound down.  Ten to go.  Considering the amount of beer I drank last week, I'm rather grateful for that pound.

May 4 Poundage: CXXXVII
May 19 Poundage: CXXXI
June 20 Goal Poundage: CXXI
(Poundage to go: X)

This coming week brings challenges .... kicked off today by my sudden prediliction to eat raw oatmeal by the cup while sitting at work.  It's fiber, but it's filling.  Twelve WW points worth of filling in 2 cups.

Challenges like the DIB drinks outing on Wednesday.  Cosmo city.

Like my friend Balint's birthday on Tuesday ...and since he cooked what I like for mine, I will probably cook what he likes for his .... which might be a couple of big steaks.

Like the road trip to Truro tomorrow to see Claudia, for which I will probably have to buy a $5 Espresso Frappucino (special treat, necessary) for the sunny, summer-like drive. Sure, C and I will probably be power-walking on the beach and scrubbing floors and otherwise getting her house ready for summer renters.  But it's also her birthday this weekend, so I expect wine, salmon, cheesecake ....

Oy.

Thank goodness for the pressure of pool parties in May.  Which is what's on the docket Sunday.  Some generous folks from church choir who also happen to have a pool are throwing our choir's end-of-the-year bash.  Around their pool.

Which means I'll have to dig out the swimsuit exactly a month early.  Which means between now and then .... sit-ups, sit-ups .... and maybe about 20 miles of running.

See ya next Thursday .... hopefully (maybe, but doubtfully) another pound down.

DIBs: Doing It (finally)

The time has come, Daters of Idiosyncratic Bostonians.

(And you know who you are.)

We're in the heights of spring: the days are longest.  Audacious men are everywhere. Sex and the City 2 opens next Thursday and please tell me you are not going to see it.

Instead, you are going to meet me, Random Blog Reader, and whoever else chances to show up next Wednesday to drink and nosh with the DIBs.

I checked in with RBR a few days ago to tell her I felt stuck these past weeks. It doesn't feel good to have it be spring and have the days be long and have the men be audacious and to feel .... stuck.

She replied to needing the same. Whew.

When:  

Wednesday, May 26, 8 p.m.

Where:  

Franklin Cafe, 152 Dorchester Ave, South Boston

How:  

RSVP by e-mailing to
 datersidiosyncraticbostonians@gmail.com

Who: 

Technically, we're
"a support group for 30-something female online daters contacted by idiosyncratic Bostonians with hankerings for (respectively) older ladies,
certain types of their clothing,
and certain varieties of chat function."

But we realize there are
idiosyncratic lady Bostonians out there, too. 

So men, join us, if you've got the tales to prove it.