What To Do With a Full Dance Card

I'm not sure how my dance card got so full, or how it happened so quickly. I'm also not sure why I'm using a completely outdated term to describe the fact that I have too many suitors. I just did it again. I guess my brain is stuck in an 18th century dating vocabulary bubble. At any rate I've backed myself into one of those lucky girl problems that I'm not sure how to handle at the moment. You've heard the phrase "feast or famine." Well, I guess that's true in everything, in freelance writing work, in literal foodstuffs, and in dating.

You all know that I'm new to the dating scene. As such, I'm not really sure what to do with myself in some of these situations. Right now, I'm experiencing an influx of interested menfolk that my motherboard can't quite handle. I have text messages flying in every direction. Coffee meet-ups scheduled all over the place, possibly on the same day. I'm not even sure anymore. I'm sending e-mails to the wrong dudes (ohhhh... you're not the Tim with the awesome Tumblr blog, you're the Australian Tim that plays the flute). On top of all of the structured and methodical online dating that I'm taking part in, I'm also meeting people in real life that are trying to get on my band wagon.

Is a dating life something that I'm going to have to set a schedule for? I'm just looking to meet some cool people, I'm not searching for another time management issue that keeps me from writing my vegan recipe blog. It seems that as soon as I opened the door a crack to start meeting the mens, that someone knocked down the door and it's all flying at me at once.

I have to say that most of these guys totally fall in the friends category. I've met some amazing dudes who are talented and sweet and good looking, but I'm just not romantically interested in any of them. To be honest, I've only found myself fully attracted to one man since this dating debacle began and wouldn't you know it? He's as emotionally unavailable as they get. That's cool though. He's fantastic. They're all fantastic.

But I feel like I'm being constantly bombarded with romantic gestures and propositions. Is there a way to be graceful about rejecting those kinds of things? I've been handling it all like an even more awkward version of Zooey Deschanel.

Do you have any advice? What do you do when your dance card is full?

Lies: A Sign Post to the Truth

That last post was so fitting, looking back on it. It's funny the way things work, how quickly things move and how fast you can sometimes realize that you're moving in the wrong direction.

I had one of those experiences this week and it ties directly into last week's post about lying and being gullible. It involves my ex. It's complicated in nature, and the thing about complicated things is that they're usually not the thing you should be open to. As I sit and write this, I'm sitting across from someone I could have something uncomplicated with, something honest and easy. But, we'll get to that in a minute.

About five days ago, I decided to reconnect with my ex. I wanted to check in and see where he was and show him where I was. The goal in mind was to see if we were in the same place. The place I was in: still in love, calm, open, forgiving, hopeful, and genuinely happy. The place he was in: confused, angry, begrudging, and, by every sign post I could gather, deeply unhappy. After the first day of speaking with each other, I figured he was going to need more time, but that we could foster a friendship and hopefully get to know each other from a safe distance (Was this the best idea? Probably not.). So I made plans to stay in Chicago for a few more months.

I mentioned that I was still in love with my ex. But was he still in love with me? Yes. Of course he was. Apparently those feelings were still very strong. But this was so confusing for him, that he talked to me for a few days, and then send me a melodramatic text about how he couldn't do this, because it stirred too many feelings up for him. I wanted to give him space and I understood that all of this was difficult. I really wasn't asking anything of him, so when he said that this was too hard, I let him go.

Today, I found out that he couldn't do this because he's still dating my nephew's mother in secret.

Let that settle for a minute. I know I did. And you know what I did next? I let it pass right through me as if I were transparent. This was a blessing of the best kind. I know now what lies beneath the lies. I know that someone who would deceive me, knowing how trusting I am, isn't someone I should hold out hope for. I got my sign that it's really time to move on, make the big plans, look for teaching careers in Asia... But first, I should probably seal the break up deal... You know what I'm sayin? Wink wink... nudge nudge... I'm talkin' about bonin'.

So I sit across from an artist. A pretty one. A busy one. A giving one. One with so much going on that it would be easy to slip into his life casually whenever the opening presents itself without any expectations, also, seemingly without any lies.

He seems like one of the most genuine people I've met in a long time. So he's genuine when he says he still loves his ex. He's genuine when he says he doesn't know what that means. He's genuine when he says he doesn't want anything serious. Hmmmm... Train wreck anyone? TBC...

Where You Feel the Truth

I'm honest to a fault. Really. I know it's hard to believe, but if you can believe anyone, it would be me. I don't lie. That's the honest to God truth. Not about anything. Ever. I know it's weird and unbelievable, and I'm not saying that it's the way to live. If I had the choice, I would be better at "bending the truth", telling "little white lies" and lying by omission. I'm just an extremely bad liar and I tend to over-tell the truth. I don't tell the truth because I feel like I'm on moral high ground. I tell the truth because I can't stand the physical feeling that comes with being dishonest.

There's a huge nerve center under your diaphragm and behind your stomach that is filled with the same grey matter that your brain has. It's sometimes referred to as the brain of the gut. It's why people tell you to "listen to your gut". It's why we have butterflies in our stomach. I subscribe to the belief that people who lie a lot must not have a very sensitive brain gut. Maybe that's what they teach you in FBI training... Maybe they remove your brain gut.

Mine goes crazy when I lie. If I even contemplate telling something that I know is a falsehood, those nerves start to burn and flutter and scream, “NUH UH! NUH UH! NUH UH!”

But just because I don’t lie, that doesn’t mean I’m telling the objective truth all of the time. If I believe what I’m saying is true, I have no problem declaring untruths like, “I’m totally over my last relationship” and “I’m a vegan!”

But wait, this rant has a point. That point is that since I never lie, I always assume that everyone else is telling the truth. You could call me gullible, but I assume that people are generally good and I don’t usually give people a reason to lie to me. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like this is the case.

So now that I’m single, I’m starting to realize that people do lie. People omit the truth. People usually don't consider honesty their number one fault. At first, I believed it all. I believed my ex when he said he wanted me back and that he would wait for me to figure this out. I believed that guy travelling by motorcycle to the tip of South America when he told me he wanted me with him for the journey because I was special. I believed the online dating dude when he said he was really jazzed to meet me. None of these things turned out to be true. My ex is over me. The motorcycle guy said a week travelling with him would be more appropriate. The online dating dude stopped replying to my emails after we made plans.

But I still think that maybe they’re doing the second kind of "lying", the accidental kind. The kind that I take part in. Maybe they really believed what they said when they said it. Maybe the motorcycle guy wasn’t trying to get in my hostel bunk. Maybe my ex really did want me back before he was struck by a moment of clarity. Maybe the online guy met another chick online.

Honesty... Is it even a policy? It seems like everything else in life, the “truth” is a matter of perspective and the only thing you can do to stay above the fray, where “truth” and “lies” can hurt you, is to realize that there’s no such thing as the objective. Everything is subject to a billion different variables and can be seen from an infinite amount of angles. So, are these men bad? No, they're not. But I can’t help but begin to feel closed and jaded even though I know everything's a matter of perspective. I’m starting to feel the need to scrutinize everything anyone says. I want my gullibility back. Perhaps it's just hiding in the place that I feel the most. Maybe if I look hard enough, I can find it in the place where you feel the lies. Because, down deep in my gut brain, I know that's where you can find the truth.