You know you’ve gone a bit too public with your love life when a family friend pulls a hamburger off the grill on Labor Day and asks, “So Kat, what’s up with Date #4?”
I have since decided that it’s time to commence Round Two. I’m not exactly sure what this will entail (What is up with Date #4? And do I tell my new “friend” across the state, “I’m sorry but this isn’t going to work?” Should I forget all about my fairytale picnic with Date #5 and quit angling for one final Rittenhouse rendezvous before he moves to New York?) I’m not really sure but the way I see it, it’s a new month and therefore it’s time for new men.
I’m a big fan of alliteration and when I was thinking what to re-name my blog, the words “Thirty Dates in Three Months” came to mind. Perfect! But then I did the math and realized that I’d have to go on ten dates a month in order for this to happen, which works out to one every three days. Impossible!
Who has the time for a date every three days? That’s just as bad as… well, as having an actual boyfriend! And so, for the sake of my more sensible goals in life, I scratched the Thirty Dates in Three Months idea.
But then I counted the collection of sticky tabs above my desk and realized that I did manage eight first dates for August. That’s just two shy of the required ten to get to thirty by the time my Match.com subscription runs out. I could make up for lost time in September. I could re-write my profile, post some new pictures and start this insanity all over again (aka Round Two).
But being the diligent researcher that I am, I feel I ought to offer some “analysis” of Round One before I proceed (learn from my mistakes and all that jazz). Plus I’ve received several questions along the lines of “What happened to so-and-so?” over the past few weeks so I might as well come clean.
Date #3 (Swan boats and more sangria) emailed me a few weeks ago to “opt out” of my “experiment,” claiming that he didn’t like the competitive aspect of dating Yours Truly. Fair enough. I’m rather uncomfortable with the reality show connotations myself.
Date #4 (He who wears cufflinks) and I seemed to have reached a bit of an impasse. By my count, we’ve been on five dates but the last of these ran its course after exactly 43 minutes. I’m no expert but this fact, coupled with the fact that we’ve not spoken all week (and that I tend to be rather irrational when we do speak), does not bode well.
Date #5 (Picnic in the park) is moving to New York, plain and simple. In hindsight, he always seemed a bit too good to be true. I couldn’t find his fatal flaw, and guys without fatal flaws make me uncomfortable.
Date #6 (the non date) will, I suspect, be one of the few new “friends” with whom I actually remain friends. I’m still mad that he couldn’t hack into Temple’s course registration system on my behalf but he’s a cool guy so I suppose I forgive him.
Date #7 (my “friend” across the state) is rather deep. He likes discussing soul mates and this we have done, through various mediums (including our phone “date” two weeks ago) for the past month. But it doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. I can only talk about soul mates for so long (and as far as I’m concerned, a girl who blogs about her love life has no business becoming anyone’s soul mate. Not until she’s gotten this whole Philadelphia flirting frenzy out of her system).
Date #8… well, the best that can be said about Date #8 is that afterwards, I went to the library and found a lovely book about Oxford (which, in turn, gave me some insight about finishing my lovely book about Oxford). As for the date itself? I’ve been trying to erase it from my memory ever since.
So there you have it folks. A new month, a new—ooh! There goes my cell phone. It’s Date #9. Stay tuned.