Whiskey and friends, or the breakup cure

Theradate wrote me a very sweet email last week to tell me that, while he likes me a lot, he met someone else before he met me and feels that he needs to stop dating other people in order to give things a shot with her.

After just four dates, this news was hardly heartbreaking. It required a 12-hour recovery period, not even requiring a full day of recuperation. Theradate is a lovely person, and I hope we remain friends, as he said he wants to. I had fun with him, but was also frequently taken aback by his eccentricity, and I'm not sure that I'm meant to be with someone who is *quite* such an extrovert (an extrovert, yes, but this was really extreme). But one does get tired of having things not work out, whether it's because the suitor in question turns out to be issue-y and alcoholic-y à la Leif Ericson or is dating someone else à la Theradate or just doesn't feel like the right match à la a million other guys I've gone out with.

(In some ways, the "I met someone just before I met you" reason is particulary frustrating. It's not that you're incompatible or he's not that into you; it's just the timing. There's an implication that, if the timing of the first meetings had been reversed, you could be the one getting top priority.)

So I was happy after receiving this news to run into my friend L'il JC at the gym, fresh from her own disappointment of meeting a guy who really liked her who, try as she might, she just couldn't force herself to like back. And then M. came and joined us, and we went and baked ourselves in the sauna and I told her my newest poop story from work (the number of poop stories I've amassed this year should probably be a blog post unto itself, and this latest one managed to outdo all prior ones). Then the three of us headed to M's house for burritos and whiskey, and when I thought about it it seemed amazing how many evenings we've spent at M's house drinking whiskey after things don't work out with someone -- whether it be a big breakup or a little disappointment, like this one. It's not planned, but it seems that that's where we wind up every time. And somehow it makes me feel better every single time.

Theradating

Though my friend Li'l JC has quite extensive experience in this arena, I had somehow never gone on a date with a therapist -- until last night. Despite hearing her stories, I was not totally prepared for the experience, and was surprised to find myself fielding questions like, "What's your mother's maiden name?" and "It sounds like you had a real connection with your first boyfriend. Would you ever think about trying to make things work with him again?" And in case it isn't obvious from the latter question, I spilled my whole. entire. life. story. on Date 1. What are we going to talk about on Date 2??

It's a little bit like going on a date with my mom, but with Tom Waits hair. (My mom's a therapist, too. And she likes to ask questions. Lots of questions.)

Eligible bachelors

I have a lot of close female friends, but there is a dearth of Y chromosomes in our circle. Usually our get-togethers involve four or five girls plus the Sensitive Bostonian, my brother-in-law. For his sake, we try not to talk about our periods or use the word "vagina" too often, but occasionally it slips out and he puts up with it good-naturedly. There are a few other males who sometimes show up, but more often than not it is just us girls.

When a new guy arrives in our circle, it is kind of like the beginning of Pride and Prejudice: "It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering the neighborhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters." (Just like that, but minus the part about the fortune and the daughters.) We are all wondering who he is going to pair up with, and we generously encourage each other to date him. It has happened a few times that several of us has gone out with the same guy; so far, this has led only to lots of giggling, no hurt feelings or broken hearts.

First, there was Bagelbutter. He broke my friend Li'l JC's heart, then proceeded to ask ALL HER FRIENDS out on dates -- including me, kinda. (I went on a non-date with him.) Poor dating etiquette, I say.

Next came the Gay Music Man, a guy from the Internet who we all happened to date. My belief is that he wasn't interested in any of us because he is actually interested in men. Otherwise, I can think of no possible explanation why he would reject me and all my friends.

After that came Bagelbutter's nice friend. He went to college with my sister, and three of my friends went on dates with him. None reported feeling any spark, unfortunately. (But then we found out he doesn't want children, so maybe it's for the best.) We would like to continue to hang out with him as friends, though.

These days, JC got a new roommate -- and he's a man! Everyone has been enjoying her Tales of Living with a Guy. (They're strange, funny creatures.) He caused quite a stir when he looked at my OkCupid profile a few weeks ago -- suddenly there was a flurry of texts being sent hither and thither. Poor guy, he just thought he was browsing through profiles!

JC and I split a farm share, and tomorrow is Veggie Day. Since JC is out of town, I emailed the male roommate -- *not* through OkCupid -- to ask if he wanted me to bring by veggies. He wrote back: "Sure, and we could cook some of them, too!"

I'm not one to decline a dinner invitation, so I accepted. This afternoon, I got a text from my sister, who is on vacation in Vermont with Li'l JC and a few other friends: "Vermont is all abuzz with news of your date with JC's roommate!"

I'm sure his ears are burning.