No Victories with V

I decided to wait a proper amount of time until I declared V a dead letter. I did hear from him one more time after he reappeared in email form, asking to put off our meeting, as the second week of classes was also proving hectic. How about next week? he wrote. Having learned my lesson, I was cheerful, casual and cooperative about this: Sure, I said (I believe that was my actual word), no problem. I'm busy too. Here are the days I'm usually free, and let me know what works for you.

The next week I heard nothing. So I dug up the cell phone number I'd extracted from V when we were about to meet for lunch (always get a phone number when you're meeting a stranger!) and called one evening. No answer, so I left a lovely, friendly, non-pressured and -pressuring message: Hey, I'm calling to say hello and see if arranging to meet (the meeting YOU asked for, remember??, I did not add) might be easier on the phone.

That was four weeks ago. I'm sure V is busy. I'm positive he's a bit uncomfy with the phone. Or email. Or, for that matter, humans. But this is surely Meaningful. And I have entirely lost any desire to see V, since about the last thing I want from dating is a man who can't or doesn't want to communicate. Who basically doesn't show up. Ugh. You have to be dyn-o-mite to be forgiven for this. And V was not that.

I wish I knew why this happened, though. Not from disappointed hope, but more intellectual curiosity: here I was energetically trying to find the good in V, someone I secretly thought other women would not want. Now it's entirely plausible that V found someone he liked more than me -- but what will have to remain one of the mysteries of the universe is whether she actually liked him back? I could sooner believe that my constant self-sacrifice and virtue will propel me up to Heaven, but you never know, I suppose.

In any case, that's it. Way too busy with grown-up matters like work to do more of this form of play, and weary to death of it, so for the time being I will have to settle for getting to spend Saturday nights the way I want to.

V is Victorious over me, yet I don't consider myself defeated, not yet. Someone may pop up on my path, or I may -- probably will -- decide to start at Square One with another A...call him A-2..and follow the yellow brick path down another round of the alphabet. I'm looking into becoming a lesbian. And you, dear readers, will be in the loop. V was hard to find, but you were there for me all along, if only in my own imagination. Thank you for that.

The Return of V

Hmmm. V has reappeared, at least metaphorically -- that is, he sent a short email today saying he's "back" (from where I do not know) and after this week of madness (first week of classes) he will get in touch.

I'm glad, though cautiously so. What do I know about V or how I will survive Second Date Shock? What about the big Kiss Taste Test?

And what about his obvious reluctance to stay in touch? I'm not getting strong pursuit vibes, but that may be a personality quirk. I knew he liked me.

Well, tune in. I've slowed down, but apparently not done yet.

Everyone and Everything is Far Away

Back from the beach (babies, kids) but not yet back in the normal swings and measures of life.

What I'm not thinking of at the moment: males, men, dating, love, sex, romance, and V. All seem far, far away. Actually V is away (he said till September 1st). What I long for is not V or any of the above, but privacy and freedom -- to work, to fix things that need attention, to please myself.

Because on family vacations everyone takes photos of each other, I've had the dubious pleasure of seeing a few pictures of myself. Here's what I thought at this unattractive sight: why am I even thinking of, never mind longing for, the youth's game of romance? Isn't this unseemly? I'm inclined (right now) not to take this seriously any longer. Love is rarely bestowed on the wrinkled and baggy, unless by long habit.

Anyway, we'll see what happens when V comes back. La la la, don't much care. Good position to be in.

V for Victory

Well, not really -- I just liked the title. But in fact V was not a total loss. I had thought little about it beforehand, so jaded have I become, but I enjoyed our little lunch. V is a very pleasant and unassuming fellow, a computer geek and professor who talks and laughs easily. He isn't a narcissist, though he clearly has had little connection with women and doesn't particularly care for children or even animals, which means he's unconnected to a big part of my life.

It's intriguing to me why I feel okay about seeing and even touching V, whereas Q was so unappealing. Is it because I'd given it all up and therefore little seems to be riding on it? There are no fantasies involved...I don't anticipate coupledom or great emotional needs fulfilled, just a casual relationship with a very nice man at best. As for the erotic part of it, on the surface, Q is probably more conventionally attractive than V, yet V fits with a certain type that often appeals to me, which you can call the sweet, modest nerd. This is a much older version of some of the semi-romantic heroes who appear in various teenage movies, though this is a new phenomenon: there weren't geeks as romantic heroes anywhere when I was young, unless you count Holden Caulfield as a kind of nerd.

Did I turn V's crank? The anwer is an unequivocal: oh, yeah. That was plain, though he was respectful about it, sneaking looks at relevant body parts rather than staring.

So I'm betting I will see V again when I come back from a much-needed vacation at the beach. And I may or may not tell you about it, those of you still attending. I thank you for listening all this time: it's not an exaggeration to say that you made my summer.

Oy V

I have a lunch date with V on Wed. The suspense is not killing me, o me of little faith. Still, curious to see. Will post for sure.

U Turn

Letter V, a professor at a large university in the city, has come back from his trip out of town and asked me to lunch. I know almost nothing about him -- tra la la, here we go again. I'm violating my no-lunch rule for first date, but he wants to meet in the Village, and I'm a sucker for a nice lunch in the Village.

Date to be determined. Will let you know.

Oh V in the Village -- you're the last one on my list! That's it for the summer.

Empty Nest, Empty Net, Full Heart

I have not heard a word from Q since our Friday date, and I'm quite certain I won't. My guess is that if I'd gone to bed with him, I'd hear from him once in a while. But something didn't take, and whether I "drove" him away (see Advisory Board) or there wasn't the "connection" that daters famously hope to make, my relief is palpable that I don't have to hear those whistling teeth again or feel that little slippery tongue between my lips.

Looking back, I am rethinking my eruption of self-loathing in the last post. Yes, I do agree with the argument that one should take it a step at a time and not think about larger issues at first; that it's silly to expect levels of attraction and passion at my age that I've had with others; that I should enjoy someone's company and "have fun" and rather than rate them in my head. But fun, like happiness, isn't something that can be manufactured ready-made by intention. "Should" is a word that has little place in the kind of relationship I'm willing to sacrifice my free time for. I either enjoy being with someone or not, and except for the first dinner, I didn't enjoy Q enough.

In the spirit of this-is-almost-over, I actually violated my no-phone rule and spoke to two more fish who swam into my net while it was lying idle in the water (that is, not to force the metaphor, they contacted me, which always tugs at my heart). T, from Brooklyn, was lively but had little to say. U, from Westchester, is retired from teaching grade school and now plays golf. He is upset that he has to sell his large house now that he's divorced. I found myself telling him about Buddhism and loss and being attached to material things, though I am not a Buddhist. This was odd of me, but then we've established that I'm odd. When someone bores me, I tend to talk to entertain myself. He was not interested, and I won't hear from T or U again.

V, a professor at a nearby school in a subject very different from mine, wrote to say he would call me when he returned from a trip this week, but I know almost nothing about him beyond his profession. He may or may not call. Since I am no longer on Match, V may be the last, unfortunately: it would have been nice to make it to the end of the alphabet. Now that's my idea of fun.