We’ve engaged in some small talk here at Rhi in Pink over the past couple weeks over this whole online dating thing. I’ve been caught saying several times, “Well, that might work for so and so, but it’s just not for me.” And, last year, I even signed up for eHarmony for 30 minutes but became too panicky about dating someone other than my beloved Hugh (it was only a couple months after our breakup) that I threw up, then called and canceled my membership. (Side note: Anyone who knows me will tell you that if i am nervous, or upset, I vomit, but I DO NOT have an eating disorder)

So, Thursday night I was having dinner with some of my dear girlfriends and watching So You Think You Can Dance? (and, by the way, yes I do) and during the commercial break, that old gentleman from eHarmony, Dr. Whatshisnose let us know that it was free communication weekend. Hmmm. The wheels in my head began to turn.

And, I did it. I signed up. Now, here is the deal with free communication weekend. You don’t get to see photos. I got tons of matches and weeded through them, starting communication with a few. I thought maybe the no picture deal would be a good thing for me, so I could first get to know them intellectually, and then later see their pictures.

So, some notes:

• I am sorry, but I cannot date anyone shorter than me. They can be the same height, but not shorter. I am a TALL GIRL. 5’11″ if you’re curious. So, a relationship with a guy who is 5’5″ probably isn’t going to work out.
• I will not date anyone with children. I know there are probably some great guys out there who have children, but I’ve done this in the past and it’s almost harder to stop seeing the child after a break up. Also when I finally settle down, and perhaps start a family with someone, I’d like us to be going through the becoming parents thing for the first time together. Make sense?
• There should be a place to indicate the volume in which you speak, and just conduct yourself overall. I am LOUD. I talk loud, I laugh loud. My entire family is this way. This drives certain people with whom I may have dated for two years, and broken up with recently CRAZY.
• One thing that seems to be working is that I am being matched with guys who are at the same place in their careers that I am. I am a professional (stop laughing) and I expect this of my future mate.
• One guy put in profile that he wishes more people would notice that he’s really, really ridiculously good looking. And? I may have proposed to him. Zoolander lines get me every time.

So, I paid for my membership, and am pleasantly surprised that all the guys I’ve been communicating with are quite cute, and maybe even totally my type. I’m going to do this at least for a month – I think I owe it to myself. Clearly, my previous methods of meeting guys are not working out (at work, or at a bar) so, I think I’ll give those a rest.

Unless any of you have a hot brother, I’m sticking with this.

Friends, I am tired. Exhausted, even. I refuse to get sick before a long weekend. There is sunning to be done, wineries to visit, and laying around to do. Not sleeping around, I do not do that. Laying around. Sorry sex blog peeps.

So, because I have nothing new to write, I’m going to tell you a little story. Once upon a time, I was in a very, very bad relationship. I dated a guy way too old for me, who was NOT honest with me in any way. But, I was ENAMORED with him. Madly, madly in love with him. This relationship went on way too long, and ended horribly.

And, here’s where I’ll shock you. We’re friends now. We talk once a week and have dinner occasionally. Last year, after my big messy break up with Hugh Jass, he gave me the boost of confidence I needed to get my ass out of bed and wash my hair.

Recently, my friend Michael and I were chatting via GTalk and I started telling him about this. He suggested it would be a good blog story. If it’s not, blame him.

Anyway, I’m not asking for sympathy with this story. I should have ended things, but I didn’t, because when things were good with him, they were really good.

So, here, I present you with, That Time He Didn’t Attend My Graduation

Oh, and to fill you in on what we’re talking about, you know I accidentally sent LinkedIn invitations to everyone I’ve ever sent or received or been copied on and and email with/to a few weeks back. Here, Michael and I are discussing this.

me: Oh shit. Now my creepy ex boyfriend who works upstairs has emailed me about it.

Michael: I have been very lucky that none of my ex-girlfriends dig anything but myspace.

me: One of my exboyfriends reads my blog on a regular basis.
Bound to happen when you’ve dated 25% of the Portland Metro population.

Michael: That’s kinda creepy if he’s doing it to “spy” on you

me: Sometimes I allow him to buy me dinner. But, I need to stop that.

Michael: You’re not leading him on when he does that are you? If it’s clear it’s just to visit as friends (or something along those lines) then he’s a big boy and knows what he’s getting into. if you enjoy the company for the evening, I don’t see the reason to stop.

me: No – he totally knows that we’re just friends. I let him know how horrible he was for me. On a regular baiss
basis that is.
Like that time when I graduated from college and he didn’t show up to the ceremony

Michael: And you were seeing each other at the time?

me: Yep

Michael: Wow.

me: I know.

Michael: Total neglect, or excuse provided?

me: Um, lame excuse provided.
25 year old Rhiannon was NOT smart (and yes, I took 6 years in college)

Michael: What was the excuse, if I can ask

me: Well, he maintains that I did not want him there. Because I did not call him beforehand.But, you see, I was too busy being extremely hungover.
Also, um, it was kind of a big deal. I was graduating from freaking college, I didn’t make too many phone calls that morning.

Michael: Wait, wait, wait.
He knew AHEAD of time when you were graduating, but he was expected a telephone call to invite him… THAT DAY?

me: Yes. He had a ticket to the event.

Michael: He had a ticket… he had a ticket?!? And he thought you didn’t want him there because … you didn’t… call. Did you put this in a blog entry? This is such a fantastically unbelievable story (because of him) that if you haven’t, it needs to be written.

me: I should write an entry about it.

Michael: Hell you could just take our discussion here and paste it to your blog and it would cover it. ha

me: Good idea. I will save it to my drafts

Michael: Then you have a guy who found it equally unbelievable. Good for us guys, as it proves that some of us are capable of logic when it comes to relationship matters

And, there you have it. Tell me, have you experienced something equally unbelievable?

Because this is totally a sex blog, these days, I’ve been contemplating trying out this online dating thing. I know, Guy, I KNOW: “Why date when you can vibrate.” But, a girl’s gotta eat, and I do like to get out of this apartment every now and again.

So, here’s the deal: in almost EVERY photo of me ever taken, ever, ever, ever, my right eye is mostly closed. This will NOT look attractive in my online dating profile. And, I’m not going to do one of those online fetish sites where guys look for girls like that.

Here are some visual aids for you all.

RhiRhi’s 29th Birthday. Everyone knows it’s rude NOT to try on the gifts you have just been given.

Even with my new fancy camera, the eye still is halfway closed.

It was a very cold winter in Canby and that dog NEEDED a parka.

So, either I post photos like this in my profile ,or I figure out another plan:

Maybe guys find the deer in headlights look hot?

So, my question to you is? Do you think laser eye surgery can correct my droopy eye? Or am I doomed?

When I was in my early twenties, and met a boy that I was interested in, I had very low standards. I expected:

• That he be rich
• That he be good looking
• That he drive a European Car
• That he told me how hot I was regularly
• That he not call me a whole lot
• That he enjoy spending money on me
• And, finally that he be really really rich

So, this really didn’t get me very far. So, when I was in my mid twenties, I requested:

• That he be upper-middle class
• That he drive a European car or motorcycle (see how I did that, how I gave in a little there?)
• That he be really, really good looking (what, I saw Zoolander, of course I’d expect more in this area)
• That he told me how hot I was regularly
• That he not call me a whole lot (cannot budge, I hate talking on the phone)
• That he enjoy spending money on me

Well, guess what? I’m in my late twenties and this hasn’t worked either. Now, here is what I request:

• That he have a job
• That he not live with his mother
• That he not like Nascar
• That he has a car that is not unsafe to ride in
• That he occasionally buys me a burrito, or corn dog, or SOMETHING
• That he tells me that I look decent, at least.
• And, that he not call me a whole lot

I really hope that it’s not necessary to revise this list AGAIN.

Remember how I went out last weekend? After I’d basically spent the prior four weekends on my couch?

Well, apparently, unbeknownst to me, there was a young lad flirting with me that evening. And, by young lad, I mean YOUNG LAD. As in live with his parents young (I speculate). As in younger than my little brother young. As in REALLY HOT YOUNG.

So, really, he’s only 25. But, for a girl who is turning 30 this year? 25 seems too young. But, once it was pointed out to me that this boy was, indeed flirting?

It was like I became a whole different girl

For some reason, I was reminded of who I was before my fantastic Grandma died, before my recent break up, and before I started hibernating in an attempt to start the pain.

And, it’s silly, I know. I should be able to feel good on my own. But, sometimes, a little push helps.

This girl, I think she’s back.