Speed dating

I wanted to try speed dating for as long as I can remember. The idea of sitting in an unfamiliar lounge, across from a total stranger, with a glass of red in my hand seemed appealing.  Luckily for me one of my coworkers felt the same!  We signed up for a Relish Speed dating event back in December, just a couple weeks prior to Christmas; however, due to a lack of registrants, it was cancelled.  So recently, I decided to use my event credit and sign up for another event.

It was a Monday night, around 7:20pm when I pulled into a parking spot on a busy Back Bay street. I parked and paid the parking meter that timed out at 7:59pm.  Annoying because the Speed dating was scheduled to begin at 8pm. I walked around the Pru and went back to my spot just before the event was about to begin.  I fed the meter my credit card and, again, it timed out at 7:59pm.  I got into my car and drove about a ¼ mile down the street to find another parking spot, parked and tried to feed the meter one more time.  Again, it timed out at 7:59pm. In anger I got back into my car.  Surely this was a sign that my 8:00pm Speed dating event wasn’t meant to be. I sat for a few minutes contemplating driving home, or parking in a nearby garage. It was then, through my tears of frustration, I noticed the sign… Meter Pay from 8:00am – 8:00pm.

I am a dumbass.

I left all three of my meter tickets on the dash and heading toward the restaurant. During my walk I passed another girl feeding the meter her credit card, I smiled at her and kept walking.

The event took place in a small hole-in-the-wall Asian fusion restaurant located below street level. It was dark, service was poor, but it was kind of exactly what I expected.

There were 10 men and 10 women. We each were assigned a number 1-10.  The men would sit across from us and move every five minutes.  Five minutes is a long time to talk to someone you don’t want to talk to.  There were a lot of different types of people there. I was ridiculously underdressed—not in a flannel kind of way, but in a i-didn’t-put-any-effort-in kind of way. We each got a scorecard and had to rate our partner on a 1-5 scale.  The awkward part was we could see each other’s cards, so we know how the person before us was graded.  Each time a new man sat we exchanged the same three questions:

“what do you do for work?”

“what do you do for fun?”

“what brought you here?”

You can only answer those questions so many different ways, and by the end of the evening I had four different careers (shit you not).

I added up the points on my scorecard and listed my Top 3. I handed in my card to the host and left. I think people stuck around for drinks and chatting, but I was mentally exhausted and anxious to ensure my car wasn’t towed.

Early the next morning I received an email from the host of the event. Two of my Top 3 were a mutual match.  Both men sent me an email the same morning.  They were both sweet guys, but I didn’t reply to either.  The weird thing about Speed dating is you pick your Top 3 based on who wasn’t terrible, and there was enough TERRIBLE to know who my finalists were.  That said, they weren’t terrible but they weren’t  necessarily guys I would want to match with in a different, say an organic, situation.  To be honest I think both of them were looking for a Green card.

The event itself wasn’t bad. The concept is kind of fun. If I had the choice I would probably do it all over again; however, I don’t think anything will come of it.  I am happy I put myself out there and tried it.  I’m also happy my car wasn’t towed.

Featured post

he has a girlfriend..

Six weeks ago (whoa I haven’t blogged in a while) I went on yet another online first date. It was the same mediocre thing. I met a successful, goofy-looking, comb-over, finance-guy in Quincy, had a quick drink and then went our separate ways.  There was no connection and the conversation was painfully boring. It was early on a Saturday evening when I headed back towards home.  I stopped off at the gym for a quick swim.

Every Saturday night I swim at the gym.  The pool is empty on weekend-nights so its my opportunity to practice all the weird shit I don’t want to practice when there are other people around, like: open turns, flip turns, and deck ups, etc.  Anything that may result in injury that I wouldn’t want an audience for.

After my swim I threw on a sweatshirt and headed for the exit, that’s when my friend Robert invited me out for a quick drink.

Robert has been helping me swim for the past six months. To be honest, I am only a halfway decent swimmer because of him.  He helped me a lot with my form and taught me drills to help with pulls and back-kicks.  Robert and I went out to grab a drink and ended up talking for a couple hours.  It wasn’t a date it was just two people (two Taurus’s..) hanging out outside of the gym.

The conversation was effortless. We talked about everything and I gave him my number and left.  I remember thinking that evening that THAT was how it was supposed to be, effortless. Nothing like the first dates I’ve been on lately.

The next day he texted me and suggested we go out for drinks again, which we did.

What has transpired over the past six weeks is difficult to explain. It was like discovering chemistry with someone who I  already knew. I always liked him, even looked forward to seeing him, but I never saw him in that light before.  He wasn’t traditionally the type of guy I would go for, but after our first date I actively looked past any stereotypes and was open to whatever happens, happens.  Because him and I were already friendly for quite a while it was easy to trust him and everything flowed naturally.

This past weekend something felt aloof, so I avoided the gym and gave him space.   Monday morning he texted me..

“hey, I hate to tell you this, but I’ve been seeing this girl and she wants to be serious, so I cant see you anymore.” 

I cant even describe the shock from getting that message. This was someone who claimed he wasn’t seeing anyone else just a few weeks before.

I didn’t say much or react much but I was so taken off guard, but I felt lied to.  A few hours later his name popped on my phone when he ‘liked’ a picture of mine on Instagram. Now I was angry, what a nonchalant thing to do after he hurt me. To avoid anymore games I blocked him and his number every way possible.

Now I am here, today.

I started this blog to hold myself accountable to dating and to attempt to meet someone. I still don’t know how I feel about the bullshit Robert pulled but I’m not as angry as I probably should be.

This entire scenario and how it played out is very much the reason I didn’t date at all last year. Everyone is in it for their own best interest, even the people you think you know.  Dating is tiring and its a roller-coaster of emotions.  I expect nothing from strangers, but I expected more from him.  The disappointment and regret from everything that happened the last six weeks is just sitting on me like weight.  I am just sad that I lost someone I considered a friend and I wish the whole thing didn’t happen.  I feel how I felt in 2018, I just want to be left alone.

Mountaineering Matt

Matt and I planned a rock climbing date, but at the last minute I cancelled; I forgot about my fear of heights. I genuinely wanted to go, but I’m a chicken. I appreciate that he was understanding. We opted for lunch at a small Mediterranean place in Watertown instead.

Matt recently moved back to Boston after four years of hiking in Uganda. He’s currently a grad student at Harvard working on the thesis for his second book.  He’s lived all over the world.  He was one of the single-most interesting men I have ever met (sans Dos Equis).  He was very easy to talk to and very down to Earth.  He used phrases like emotionally-intelligent. That’s one of my favorite things to say and (spoiler alert: I did not go to Harvard)

So the catch with Matt… He walks everywhere with his full-size hiking pack and tin thermos in tow.  He doesn’t have a traditional job, or a car. I can get behind that though.  What I wouldn’t give to forget my Benz in Brockton for the night and be rid of that car payment.

Overall the date went well, we had really good conversation. As soon as I got home he texted me and sent me a friend request on Facebook, which I thought was a little fast, but I guess he felt the date went well too.  I did check out his pictures and he’s been all over; Africa, Asia, it’s incredible. My only comparable experience is Disney’s Animal Kingdom Lodge.

Matt is certainly much more well-rounded and cultured than me. I probably won’t see him again.

What I learned from this experience is that routine and monotony are very sexy to me. I can’t wake up one day and backpack around Hong Kong, unfortunately, so I can’t be with someone who wants to. I need a partner who wakes up and goes to work, has the same interests, wants to see the same things.  I don’t want the pressure of having to reinvent myself every couple of years to keep my husband happy and interested.  I need predictability.

New Year, New Me.

Happy New Years!

New year, New Me. .. I actually dislike this expression, so I am using it in the most snarky way possible 🙂

I do; however, love New Years! The idea of starting the new year with a blank slate and making goals for yourself is very exciting to me. My 2019 New Year’s resolution is to actually be more social.  I look back at 2018 and in the whole year I only went on four first-dates. Four! in an entire year! I actually didn’t make many new friends either! In parallel with this resolution I am going to attempt to online date (for real this time).

I started this blog two months ago (Nov 2018) with a goal of meeting people.  I thought if I had some awful online dates I could at least have fun blogging about them afterward. Unfortunately, since I began this blog I have only been on one first-date…and it wasn’t awful.

In preparation for this resolution; one week prior to 31Dec2018 @ 11:59p,  I swiped away and secured 129 Tinder matches!! Of these 129 matches, 31 of them said ‘hello’…not a bad start to the new year!!

Here’s a quick breakdown of my conversations with these 31 guys:

  1. Lincoln- cute guy, business owner, 2604 miles away. No convo.
  2. Jake- blue collar, looks like he likes his booze (not sure how we matched up). No convo.
  3. Dave-no convo with this one either, he looks very young.
  4. Chris- I ghosted #4 too, but he’s wearing a wife beater, soo…
  5. Paul- Oh gosh I stopped talking to #5 as well. I’m five for five. No wonder I’m unsuccessful at this.
  6. Darren- Guy from Texas, convo ended at “how are you?”
  7. This guy, Matt I talked to for a few days, and actually gave him my number and we continued to text. He asked me out to dinner but for some reason we stopped talking. Too bad, he has amazing eyes and he plays hockey.
  8. Moe- this poor guy, I ignored this message as well. He looked a little too thug for me (bad swipe on my part).
  9. #9- Chris, was interesting. We started chatting on Sunday. He asked if I was watching the Pats. I told him I didn’t watch football and he replied with “sorry I asked”. Conversation ended at that. Maybe I should watch football?
  10. Brian- this guy said ‘hello’, but spelled my name wrong. I didn’t reply back (post-typo).
  11. #11-Aaron. We didn’t talk much. He’s in Denver visiting family. Maybe we will chat when he gets back.
  12. Patrick! Patrick. Patrick. He is married and looking for a fun girl on the side. His wife does his laundry but doesn’t pack his lunch for work.
  13. Brendan- short conversation with this guy. He seemed offended when I asked if he was going out of New Years.
  14. Stas- I ghosted #14 when he kept using *winking* faces and implying sexual innuendos. A dirt-bag on Tinder? How unoriginal.
  15. Craig-this guy lives in Framingham, too far away.
  16. Dan- this guy ignored me after I replied back to his ‘how are you?’
  17. This guy weirded me out when he asked why a ‘nice girl’ like me was on this site with (of course another *winky* face… Sigh
  18. Lucas-I owe this guy a reply…my bad
  19. Tim- this guy had an annoying sense of humor. And he’s a firefighter. I love firefighters (I really, really do) but I have an unfair stigma about all of them being cheating pigs. It’s too bad really. I never swipe right on firefighters, this was an accident.
  20. Andy- this guy was an older match that I didn’t talk to that randomly popped back up. I wasn’t interested the last time we talked.
  21. Bryan- seems nice enough, he just asks a lot of questions. Conversation doesn’t seem to flow.
  22. Rob- umm…I owe this guy a response
  23. Andres- and this guy too
  24. Bryan- and this one…
  25. Sam- I am talking to this one. The back n forth is just really slow. He seems nice enough though.
  26. Fiddy (is this even a name?)- This guy is weird. He called me a “sexy b”..twice
  27. Mike- this guy is cute, he has a red beard too 😊 We have been talking for almost a week, but we haven’t talked about meeting up. He could possibly be in a relationship as well.
  28. Dominic- this one is ridiculously sexy and out of my league haha
  29. I am steadily talking to the final three (Mike, Matty, and Jason).
  30. Maybe I will meet one of them this weekend!
  31. Fingers crossed.

What I learned about myself from this little exercise:

  • Only about  25% of my matches said ‘hi’.  I may need to start saying ‘hi’ to better my chances at being successful.
  •  Of that 25% only about 1 in 10 I have been able to carry a conversation with. If I want to successfully online date (one or two dates per week) I may need to match with 150-200 men per week.  Yikes.
  • I need to be better at replying back or unmatching.  Leaving people in limbo is not very nice.

Christmas 15 years ago, and today.


Christmas was always my favorite holiday. Fifteen years ago, at the age of 17, I shared my first apartment with my boyfriend.  We moved into the apartment just before the holiday and I was so excited to have a place of my own, to decorate. I had the Christmas music, the scented candles, and the garland hung in between the rooms.  I even started hand painting my own tree ornaments the Summer before.  I loved Christmas.

I remember Christmas Day 2003 like it was yesterday. I can remember the temperature in the air, and smell of the cold, all the feelings.

Lars and I got into a big fight a few days before Christmas. It was a fight that I started. I was angry for being 17 and a stay at home mom.  I was angry that I dropped out of high school and felt trapped in our small one-bedroom apartment for days on end.  I was angry that he was working two 40-hour jobs and never home.  And when he was home, it was to sleep, and I felt under pressure to keep a crying baby, quiet.  We were so young.

We got into the fight on Monday, and we didn’t talk for a few days. On Thursday, following my family Christmas dinner I drove to Lars’s mom’s house.  All afternoon I had a nagging feeling that something wasn’t right.  It was there, in her neighborhood, I pulled up to a road blocked off by police. I got out of my car. His jeep was parked ahead, driver’s window broken out, blood everywhere and his body on a stretcher covered with a white sheet.  He died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound. That’s exactly how his death certificate stated it. The shock is like nothing I can explain, it was as if everything in my chest dropped into my stomach.  I walked back to my car and drove to my grandparent’s house, me and my newborn son in the back seat.

The rest of the night is a blur. At some point I went back to the apartment we shared. Our answering machine was full of messages his friends left, apologizing for missing his call the night before. He had called his friends to say goodbye.

The days and weeks following his death were most difficult of my life. You hear about a depression that leaves people unable to get out of bed. I did get out of my bed to care for Connor, but I didn’t do much else. I didn’t leave the house or go into public for weeks.  I didn’t shower, I didn’t eat.  I was so sick.  Sick with shock.  Sick with sadness.  Sick with guilt.  I couldn’t allow myself to put food into my mouth when all I could think of how hopeless he felt the night he put a gun to his head.  I had nightmares almost every night. I went to the cemetery every day, for years.

Eventually, after a few months following his death, I began working again. I remember when I forced myself to carry on a normal life. I can remember driving past Dunkin Donuts one morning, the drive thru line was to the street, just like every other morning.  I remember thinking how everyone in the World woke up that morning and carried on their normal routines.  There I was, barely able to function, I felt so numb.  Dealing with his death was impossible.  It was a sadness I don’t wish on anyone.  Every day was a struggle to get through.  I began writing all my thoughts into a journal, always starting with a fresh page and never looking back.  I bartered with myself to get through each day.  I remember one day I promised if the pain I was feeling at that time, was the same on the following Christmas, then I, too, would end everything.  It was a promise that finally offered relief.

Summer 2004 came, and when I wasn’t looking, I had met someone.  And though the relationship only lasted a couple years it served a very important purpose, it helped pull me out of every dark place and helped me to find balance.  Even though I was still mourning Lars’s death, I was able to see through the fog and to balance the feelings of hopelessness with feelings of clarity and most importantly, future.  And because of that I was able to find the energy I needed to be a better mother to Connor.

For a long time, I felt I was the girl whose boyfriend killed himself. I felt people looked at my differently, treated me differently, judged me.  I had strangers tell me that he shouldn’t have had a funeral or shouldn’t be remembered in any way because he committed suicide. Eventually I stopped talking about Lars and any conversation that might lead to his name.  I became a conversation-ninja avoiding conversation about him, Connor and major life milestones altogether.  Unfortunately, I am still that way  today.



I have spent the last 15 Christmas’s alone. The years immediately following Lars’s death I pretended I wasn’t feeling well.  Many years afterward that I would tell my family I was with my boyfriend’s family and tell his family I was with mine.  It wasn’t meant to be deceitful, I just wanted to be left alone.  I still to this day, spend Christmas alone.  I don’t lay in bed crying, I don’t drink myself into a stupor (well, maybe sometimes).  I usually just go for a run, clean the house, etc. I don’t use the day to throw a pity-party for myself, but instead I use Christmas day as a day of recognition and respect for someone who felt such hopelessness that he no longer wanted to be on this Earth.

I think of him every day. I can remember so many conversations, vividly. He always wanted Connor, he was always optimistic about our future, and Connor’s future.  He wanted success for me; I remember the Summer of 2003 we bumped into a friend of his at Walmart.  We were standing in the back of the store, near the gardening section, talking to the guy.  He asked Lars what his post-high school plans were and if he planned to go to college.  Lars looked at me and he told him he had to get me through college first.  I will never forget that moment, and though it was special at that time, following his death, it became my mission.  I had no choice but to go to college and to be successful for myself and for Connor, and that I did.

Today 15 years have passed, his memory is very much still with me. Every Christmas I reflect on my feelings, and changes that have evolved from the year prior and from 2003. This year, in particularly I have reflected on the shift in the stigma surrounding suicide.  15 years ago, people didn’t mention the word ‘suicide’.  The only people who killed themselves were drug addicts, or losers. I couldn’t even go to therapy 15 years ago because there was an undertone surrounding his death that felt like ignorance to the situation.

Today, as a culture, we are so much more accepting of depression and mental illness. My silver lining this Christmas is how far we have come as a society to break down the stigma of suicide.  Maybe, just maybe, we can go a step farther.  Maybe not everyone who kills themselves are suffering from a mental illness.  Maybe they are young, with too much on their plates.  Maybe they are just an average-Joe person going through a rough patch, feeling overwhelmed, feeling hopeless and unable to see past their pain at that moment. Maybe this shift is something I will get to see in another 15 years.



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