When will he call you?

Ladies, we wait and wait for that phone call, don’t we? Of course, we don’t want men to know that, but men, we are.

The Setting: We either just got home from a spectacular first date, or we have just been dumped by our boyfriend of two years. We are waiting for the voice on the other end of the call to either tell us– “Wow! You’re amazing. I would love to see you again.” Or “I miss you. I was an idiot to ever think I could do better than you.”

But what our irrational-love-infused mind cannot comprehend is that a watched pot never boils (and trust me, I make a lot of pasta!) And it’s the reasoning behind why we do wait. It’s why when we type into Google, “When will he…” call is the third guess Google has for us (propose is first, followed by ask me out). It’s why we go to the bookstore to find the self-help books. It’s why we watch all six seasons of Sex and the City after a breakup. But the answer isn’t in the aforementioned places. It’s right here, on my blog.

So, when will he call you?

Never.

Ouch! Harsh? Perhaps. Truthful? For sure. If it has been over a month and no word from that person, start looking elsewhere. But don’t drown in your sea of sorrow, reader. You’re awesome! Unfortunately for him, he couldn’t see that.

When you’re with a new love and/or have moved on to bigger and better.

Exes always seem to come back at the wrong time (for them). It’s usually the right time for you. You know, when you’ve moved across the country, got more attractive, and have dated at least three men since him. Humor him though! It’s a wonderful ego stroke.

When your phone dies or is turned off.

Going off the grid on purpose is a freeing experience. I visited Vancouver, British Columbia about a month ago, and turned my phone off (namely because I was roaming…) And for those two days, I didn’t care about the possibility of someone not being able to reach me. But have you ever had your phone die unexpectedly when you’re not within distance to a charger? Oh, god! What a terrible feeling. When I got back into the States after my short adventure, someone called me and left a voice-mail.

The moral of the story: leave the country for a few days. He’ll call. Sans passport? Turn phone off.

When you change your phone number.

You decide to do a reckless thing after your breakup. You’re in Stage 3 of I have a Broken Heart, now what?: ANGER. You think, “Oh yeah? He doesn’t want me in his life anymore?! FINE! I’m going to go change my number. Now he will never be able to contact me.” And you do go change it. He inevitably will call because that’s how Life works. And remorse starts to set in. But really, why would you want to get back together with someone who pretty much deemed you unlovable?

If anything, you still have facebook to get in contact with one another.

Calm down, it has only been four hours.

You’re too eager. Let him miss you a bit, yeah? Good.

Not on Valentine’s Day.

He won’t even know it is Valentine’s Day. February 14 is just another day in the year. (As it should be…)

He won’t. He’ll text you.

Along with the rest of my generation, I loathe talking on the phone. We prefer text. I break out in sweat at the thought of having to call someone to set up a hair appointment. What do you mean I can’t do this online?!

So when you hear your phone ringing for some odd reason, don’t get your hopes up! It’s just an automated voice trying to sell you an alarm system.

When he wants to.

Yep. If he genuinely is interested in you, reader, he will call you. It’s hard to wrap one’s head around that but he will. Why? Because you’re awesome and he knows it.

Or you could discard all of these answers and call text him yourself.

*Jamie snapped this shot in Portland, OR.

The First Date Curse

We have all been there, or at least most of us have. Whether we are only doing it because we want to prove to an ex (yes, definitely him), friends, or family that we can move on or we are doing this because we are in constant search of that Mr. or Mrs. Almost Right.

I am, of course, talking about the first date.

Stepping back into the single’s field is terrifying. Especially if you have been with one person for so many years, months, weeks, hours, minutes, nanoseconds. The idea of having to start all over again isn’t fair. I once read in a book that I thought was great. It said there should be a “relationship equivalency exam: a test that would allow you to earn credit for past dating experience so you could pick up a new relationship where the old one left off.”  Sure, it would be difficult being married for ten years already and wam bam, you have a brand spankin’ new man, but after so many failed attempts of long-term relationships,

Who really wants to start all over?

I'm exhausted. Where is he?

But maybe you’ve had plenty of first dates and it isn’t a big deal for you. Like Charlotte York would say, maybe you’re just exhausted and want to meet him already. You have dates lined up for the whole week. In fact, you even decided to double book because you were just THAT eager desperate. Whatever the case may be, I’m here to discuss the first date.

I’ve had a few first dates in my life.

Another great predicament I’ve heard friends wanting to know: “Is this a date or no??” In which I say, if he is paying, it’s a date. Wait, that sounds like chivalry. It’s dead!

“But he is taking me fishing on his boat!” Well, as long as he is paying for the bait, I suppose it’s a date. Or if you find yourself buying new pants and bra, consider it a date. Others say anything after 6:00 pm. But I tend to disagree.

Thinking back to my first dates, I have found that I always go to the same damn chain restaurant followed by a movie. The order may be switched, but it’s still the reliable dinner and movie. Is it always me suggesting these places? Absolutely not. It must be the men of the 21st century lacking date ideas. Something about being with a stranger in a dark room, not having to speak with them is ideal. Clearly.

I know someone who always goes to pool halls on first dates. Which got me thinking, if these dates never go past that first date, or doesn’t end in wedding bells, is it cursed? After so many failed attempts of going to the same place but with a different guy, maybe it isn’t a lack of chemistry, but the date location?

We’re all about change. Even my man, Obama, campaigned about it. Yet we are so intimidated of doing something new, being in a new environment, or fearing the unknown, we won’t step outside our comfort zone.

Furthermore, if you continue to take someone new to the same place, wouldn’t it just bring up old memories anyway? Sigh. This is where we first ate dinner together in which we built a house with all the sugars, salts, and straw wrappers. He was so creative. True Story.

Cue the tears to start rolling.

Or if you continue to see the same type of people. I somehow always end up being attracted to men born in May. Of course I don’t go picking them, I just seem to be attracted to the always-stubborn-usually-dependable-loves-food-who-is-surrounded-by-female-friends-man. Won’t this just continue the pattern with the same old results?

When the unofficial boyfriend took me on an unofficial date, he took me to go get breakfast, and it was all his idea. For once, I wasn’t taken to a dark room where we weren’t speaking to one another. I absolutely loved discussing his dogs, my cats, and everything in between, all the while having a cup of coffee, eggs and toast. Granted, the unofficial boyfriend would eventually leave me to get engaged with a co-worker.

So even if you do go to a new place with a new man, it still has a chance of ending in wedding bells, just not with you.

Dating is a synonym for lying

via Getty Images

I’ve come to realize I’m not a serial dater, but rather a serial monogamist. Despite reading a book once that said we are actually all polygamists. Sure, most will say, Well, Jamie, I am the same way. But some people can just casually date, which may or may not be beneficial because I hear you’re supposed to kiss a lot of frogs before you find “Prince Charming.” Ugh, the feminist in me cringes as I write that.

I don’t believe in Prince Charming, but rather Commoner Charming. A Mr. Almost Right.

I wanted to believe that I had the I-can-date-you-a-few-times-and-not-feel-bad-about-disappearing-on-you in my DNA, but I don’t. I would rather get my heart broken by one person when he inevitably leaves me after dating for three plus years where I will write about him for the next two years until the next victim comes along. That, or be single in which I have been trying on my single girl swag for quite some time. The time is nearing where I’m ready to hang it up.

One time, I went on a date right after my next-door-neighbor-unofficial-boyfriend unofficially dumped me. My date was a complete opposite of what I’m used to: a 29-year-old police officer from the Midwest. In other words, he hunts, fishes, and votes Republican. Now the irony of all of this is how anti-law enforcement I am and how far left I lean. However, I was strangely intrigued, and wanted to see if there was something. After all, I hear opposites attract.

You know, like, Hugh Hefner and his 24-year-old fiance.

As everyone was changing into their Halloween costume, I was deciding what I was going to wear on this meeting of strangers where they wine and dine with one another, and hopefully an attraction blossoms. They call it a first date.

I started with a dress, then switched to a tunic and tights, then back into the dress, and finally settling for my standard jeans and a t-shirt.

Dating. It’s nice to dress up, get ready for four hours in advance, switching outfits five or six times, but aren’t we just lying to our potential suitor? Face it—we don’t take the time to get ready everyday (at least I don’t) like we do on a date. I’m ready to hang out in sweatpants in bed as soon as possible. It’s my fantasy—staying in bed all day with someone I like, love, adore, need, want, and other synonymous words. (Not to the extreme of the old people in Willy Wonka, but somewhat close.) This is why I’m a serial monogamist. How often can you show up to a date with your hair a mess, without showering, and not wearing your best outfit? It’s very rare, if that.

Some may argue (an old boyfriend) that the moment the sweats start coming out, there goes the end of romance. Most will say (me) that it isn’t about how both of you have stopped impressing one another and getting lazy, but rather this is how most of us are everyday! That’s the whole point of dating—to impress and court and what not. Yet after all of those shenanigans comes the fun part. To me, the best part of a relationship is that moment where you’re both comfortable with one another.

With these differences in mind, it’s just another reason why we have parted ways. That, and he lacked goals.

Dating. It’s expensive. Every time I went to see the unofficial boyfriend, I would run to the mall and buy a new shirt, new jeans, new bra or something. It seemed pointless as the clothes would be coming off anyway, but I still felt like I was in the I-need-to-impress-the-hell-out-of-him stage. Granted we could have gone out more, but we were fulfilling my fantasy, partly: staying in bed with someone I liked, who adored me. Unfortunately, it was never the mutual addiction I craved.

The date met my expectations more or less. He was shorter than what I’m used to, but hey, this is casual dating. I wasn’t looking for a future husband, although he was probably looking for a wife. Nor did I like his chivalrous acts. It’s dead, damnit!

Dating. I loathe it. I hate those awkward moments where no one says anything. We chew bread silently, thinking of what the hell we can say to one another. Fortunately, I was an inquisitive journalism student, so asking questions usually filled the silent gaps.

If you were stranded on deserted island and could bring only three things, what would they be?

“You sure ask the most random questions,” he said.

“Yeah, so?” At least I’m asking questions, I thought.

After our meeting came to an end, and I drove back home, I didn’t know how I felt. I kept thinking about the unofficial boyfriend, with a sliver of Alex. I didn’t feel the same way about my date as I did when I was with them. Sure, he is at that perfect age where he has all his shit together, is great on paper, but that was it.

He was good on paper.

I realize it was the first date, but I figured there would have to be some kind of urgency to see him again. The next day I didn’t contact him. He didn’t either, and I was okay with that. I was beginning to see why men often don’t contact women after a few days. I needed to let it sink in, and see if I was “missing” him.

I didn’t.

He contacted me a few days later with a text that simply read, “Come make love to me.” I quickly deleted him from my phone, from my facebook, and from my memory. 

That was the last time I ever went on a date, and gave up for over a year. But I think I am ready to dive in again. (Or at least get my feet wet.)