Sucks that my 1000th post was such a downer. Even if it felt true at the time. Scheherazade had 1,001 tales. Let's make my 1001st post somewhat more worthy of her.
I'm feeling better. Not sure if it's the parafin pedicure I had tonight, the vast quantities of Nutella I've inhaled, or jumping back in the dating pool via Jwed. Sorta like Frumster, but for all Jews, not just the orthodox. I'm casting a wider net. If I was willing to make compromises for JV, I can compromise for others as well. I'm having fun enlisting my friends to co-write my new profile, and posting my sexiest, cutest photos. And starting some nice little email correspondences -- although, in the interest of full disclosure, getting a ton of rejections and complete ignores as well. Par for the course.
I also went out again with the Gorgeous Genius. Saturday night. I kept running into him on the subway, and he kept inviting me to go to dinner with him. Which I did, once, back in October or November 2009, and justified it as not a date because a) I didn't wear makeup and b) I didn't kiss him good night. (He tried, and his lips landed on the back of my head.) Just hugged him. But to let him buy me dinner more than once felt uncomfortably like cheating on JV.
When JV and I broke up, I thought, "No reason not to have dinner with GG now." So we did. Decent food (fish on a Saturday night is always kinda iffy), excellent conversation, smooth gelato with solid whipped cream afterward. It was an almost perfect evening... until he walked me home and fastened his lips on my face like a grouper inhaling a tuna.
I couldn't breathe; I think his lips were blocking my nostrils. Yeech. I'd forgotten what an awful kisser he was, or he'd gotten dramatically worse. Welcome back to dating, Ayelet.
We're supposed to go out again Thursday night. How do I tell him he kisses like a predatory fish?
Copyright (c) "Ayelet Survivor"