Thursday, December 04, 2008


Not a great thing when trying to impress girls. A friend of mine recently met a male neighbor of hers and had the following conversation with herself...

Mmm. Hot guy. No ring. Probably gay.

The next day:

Oh, a fleece hoodie? Straight.

When he invited her in to see the renovations he'd made on his house:

Sweet. Straight.

And when she saw the sconces on his walls:

Damn it! Gay.

After he explained someone else had decorated his home:

I dunno, Bi?

Friday, November 21, 2008

Sure She Can Break Your Heart...

But don't let her touch your spirit.

I'm at Starbucks, sipping my latte and happily typing on my computer. It is cathartic. Warm drinks and writing. Nothing better. Until I hear a familiar trill from my backpack.

A text message. My heart pounds rapidly. My breath is shallow. My fingers, weak. They fumble around the keyboard, drunks colliding, unable to maintain their space.

I have to check it. Finish your sentence. It will not be him. Finish the sentence. I can't feel my legs. Finish the sentence. Please let it be him.

The drunkards complete their task and I am free. I turn and unzip my backpack hanging on the back of my chair. I dig for the phone. A calm washes over me. I will soon have my answer. I locate the phone and click, light up the screen.

No messages. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. It wasn't even my phone.

Made me laugh too. He might have broken my heart, but he ain't crushed my spirit.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

An Even Bigger Reality Check

Boy do I feel like an idiot. Why couldn't we date? Turns out there wasn't a reason X,Y, or Z. The reason was me. Looks like that bus isn't going to do me a whole lot of good after all.

Promise I'm back to the advice for guys soon. Because apparently I'm only getting better at this dating thing.

Sunday, November 09, 2008

I Have a Confession to Make

My last post seemed to resonate with some women out there, so I figure I should share a couple of my own most ridiculous, far from reality, 'happily ever after' scenarios. No, they do not include small rodents singing to me and making me dresses, but for as realistic as my fantasies are, there might as well be.

Without further ado:

I walk into a swanky bar, my date's hot hand on the small of my back. There, across the room, is the man who let me go. He is on a date with a beautiful woman. Mr. Let-Dauntless-Go notices me immediately and cannot peel his eyes from me. He is barely speaking to his date because of it. When I excuse myself from my date to go to the restroom, he does the same. He meets me in the hallway, professes his love and stupidity at letting me go, and asks me to end my date and meet him for coffee. Cut to the coffee shop. He and I are sipping from over-sized mugs. The camera recedes as I cautiously laugh at his joke, guarded at the beginning of this second chance.

Then there's the really bad one. This one's been around for 15 plus years.

Mr. Dauntless-is-great-but-I'm-not-ready-for-whatever-reason has told (or texted) me that we shouldn't see each other. That he is not ready for reason X,Y,or Z. I am heartbroken. Our connection, intellectual and physical, is so strong, I cannot fathom either of us could ever find anyone else. But, I am understanding of his X,Y, or Z reason (as I am eternally patient and kind) and know we shall live happily forever, regardless of the fact he has not yet come to the same conclusion. Until one stormy day, tragedy strikes. A terrible car accident has left me in the hospital, unconscious. When I come to, Mr. Dauntless-is-great-but-I'm-not-ready-for-whatever-reason is at my bedside, head bent, silently crying. I say something witty and he looks up, shocked at the sound of my voice. At this point, he professes his love, can't believe he almost lost me, and reason X,Y,Z is no longer an obstacle.

What!? Really? I'd put myself in physical harm (even only in my imagination) just to have some dope wake up to the realization that I'm awesome? And I call myself a feminist? That, my friends, is why this is a confession. And here's another:

Last night I was crossing the street when a bus almost turned into my path, leaving me a pancake. Instead of saying a prayer of thanks for the driver's opthamologist, I thought, "Hmmm..."

So, ladies, what's your go-to 'happily ever after' fantasy?

Saturday, November 08, 2008

Read, Recite, Repeat

Ladies, we have to stop. Reading fairy tales to our little girls, understandable. Believing them as grown women, disasterous.

Our princes change, but the story line remains the same. We picture grand gestures in which he professes his love (usually it's the love he only just realized he felt). We replay scenes in our head so often we think they're possible. Our Lloyd Dobler is outside our bedroom window, boom box high above his head, his solemn expression a testiment to his determination to be there for us always.

My nine year old niece wrote a story last weekend. The topic wasn't love, but the beginning struck a chord and ripped me from my own impossible fairy tale, "This story is not like any other story. It doesn't beging with 'Once upon a time' and it doesn't end with 'happily ever after."

Read, recite, repeat.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

Fall, Friends, and Fantasy Football

The three reasons I've been MIA. Not, unfortunately, because a Greek Islander on a temporary visa has had me tied up for months. Will be back soon with some good ones (another unfortunate event - many of them will be borrowed).

Friday, July 25, 2008

Date A Cougar

Cougar Country isn't just for the wild wild west anymore, boys. It's all over this beautiful world. Here are the top ten reasons to become cougar* prey:

10. She ain't interested in marrying you, having your kids, or meetin your mama.

9. If you're pokey, she'll say, "This is the part when you kiss me."

8. She invented the back door boogie.

7. She's not afraid to tell you her real age.

6. She's not waiting for you to call.

5. She tells you what she wants, and she means it.

4. She looks damn good.

3. She doesn't much believe your bullshit, but she doesn't much care about it either.

2. She'll ask you if her shirt is in your way, then take it off.

1. She'll ask, "How old is the oldest woman you've been with?" When you answer, she'll laugh and say,"Well, we're changing that tonight, boy."

Date her. You won't be disappointed.

*An older woman

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

There Should Be Streamers

If being with someone is so much fun it makes you think, there should be streamers, well then, you might just be on to something my friend.

Monday, July 14, 2008


Your boys may be good, but I'd bet Mom's better.

My mom and I rented a table at my local yard sale a couple months ago. Always looking for an opportunity, I put on a skirt and some makeup. We set up about 7am and began selling our crap.

Moms, always in tune with the manhunt herself, kept an eye out for me, "How about that one?" She nodded her head in the direction of a young man.

"Hmmph." I shrugged, nonverbally dismissing him.

"{Dauntless}, what's wrong with him?"

"I dunno."

"Ok, how about him?" she asked again. She got the same reply.

Just at that moment, a truck full of firefighters pulled into a nearby cul-de-sac to 'show the kids around the fire truck' (otherwise known as turn on all women within 200 feet).

"Here we go." says Mom. "Go over there and talk to them."

"What? No way!" I replied, as if I don't have any experience at all in this dating world.

"Yes. They're right next to the food. Go over there, get yourself a hotdog and talk to them!"

"Ok," I grudgingly agreed, though I knew full well I would not be striking up any conversations.

When I returned with a hotdog and no firefighter, Mom was not pleased.

"You wimp."

When the firefighters decided to saunter past our table, I took the opportunity to drool while Mom took the opportunity to elbow me.

As they passed a second time, she tried humiliation, {Dauntless}, you're 30. You shouldn't be scared of boys. Go!"

Determined to make Mom proud, I stood up, chased them down (yes, there was some running involved), and invited them to our community happy hour. They accepted.

You can't beat a wingmom with a stick. Try her out guys.

Wednesday, July 02, 2008


Ever flip on the telly to your favorite show only to start watching and think, This looks familiar. Hey, I think I've seen this one before. I have. This is the one where the kid gets kidnapped and it turns out the stepdad did it to extort some money from mom. Damn reruns. Click.

Well, I'm having that same feeling, only I'm not watching tv, I'm on eharmony. And I came across a really cute guy I've been matched with. Mmm. He's hot. Wait, there's something familiar about this guy. His nose. I've seen that nose before.

Now, since I've been so-called 'channel surfing' for some time now, it's not out of the question that I'd come across the same profile every once in a while. But the more I looked at this guy, the more familiar he became. I wasn't that worried about it until I thought about starting communication with him. Oh Shit! What if I've gone out with him before??

I've watched quite a few shows while writing this blog and I honestly can't remember all of them. I'll probably still contact this guy (right after I publish this post - he is hot after all), and hopefully his memory is as shotty as mine. Besides, reduce, reuse, recycle, right?

I suppose us veterans should start taking notes on this dating thing.

Monday, June 16, 2008

Guest Post!

One of my favorite bloggers is guest posting today. Unfortunately, I'm afraid his advice is a hell of a lot better than mine. Lucky for me, he's asked not to be identified, so there will be no leaving me for him. Enjoy!

I've enjoyed reading this blog because it gives the female perspective on the dating experience, but I thought it might be helpful to give some insights on the male experience.

The differences between a good date and a bad date aren't that obvious. It seems that a lot of people don't pursue things after a first date because of a lack of "chemistry" but when I think about what dates I have walked away from with a desire to pursue a second date versus the ones that I don't want to see again, a lot of the non-physical things that are attractive are within the girl's control.

As a psych major, I believe that everyone has inside them some kind of ego ideal, even if it doesn't match reality. The fat bald guy at in the Redskins jersey scarfing down nachos at the sports bar might see himself as an athlete even if no one else does. The dowdy librarian who paints hideous abstract art in her basement might see herself as a free spirited hippie artist even if no one else does.

Figuring out someone's idealized version of themselves and validating that, goes a long way towards getting someone to feel positive emotions when they are with you. When you get someone to feel like their idealized version of themselves, they are really happy to be around you.

So how do you figure out someone's ego ideal? Ask questions and listen…really listen to what they have to say. Take a genuine interest in who they are as a person rather than trying to impress them with your own stories. If someone is bragging about something like their job, their skill at kickball or photography, it's probably because they are proud of it and they want to be validated for it because it's part of the way they view their idealized version of themselves. Now, granted, someone who plays (or brags) about kickball is probably a loser, but it's something that's important to them and it's no less cool (to them) than the people who spend hours playing fantasy football, world of warcraft or learning photography.

And yes, the other banal date advice (smile, make eye contact, laugh at their jokes) still applies, but I think you'll probably get a lot more mileage trying to get to know the other person as a human being than waiting for a pause in the conversation so you can try to impress the other person with how awesome you are.

Monday, June 09, 2008

You're Not the Only One

Hey everybody, thanks for reading my blog. I have a hell of a good time writing it (and doing the research).

A few months ago, some fellow bloggers got together and asked a bunch of us to submit our favorite posts to be published, proceeds to go to charity. The result of their hard work is You're Not The Only One, a series of short stories from us bloggers all over the world.

Proceeds from the sale of the book go to Warchild, an organization committed to helping children affected by war. Interested? Check it out here.

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Robin Givens Left for Good Reason

Lights flicker blue to green to black. Disco mirrors bounce colors around the room. The music vibrates through my chest. Ncha. Ncha. Ncha. Flashes of arms and sweaty hair flinging back and forth. Ncha. Ncha. Ncha.

Wordlessly, he slipped his hand around my waist and turned me toward him. Hot. I lifted an eyebrow, his mouth curled in a sultry grin. I could feel his breath on my cheek. Our hips swayed in harmony. He pulled me closer with each beat. Ncha. Ncha. Ncha. Mmm.

After one song turned to another and another, he pulled back, alternating his gaze between my eyes and at my mouth. Sweet. Slowly he pulled me in and softly kissed my lips. He went in again, this time leaving bottom lip? What the fuck?

He pressed on, ending the third kiss with my top lip between his teeth! Oh, shit. This is some kind of sick fuck.* Thinking as quickly as possible through a fog of vodka, I searched the room for someone to save me. Eyes darting left and right behind his back, he had free rein of my ear. And took full advantage. He gnawed on that for a good few seconds until I pulled away and excused myself.

As hot as you think you are, don't treat a girl like Evander Holyfield.

*Translation: This is disgusting, but I do feel pretty irresistible.
Ladies, am I a prude or would you have been (mostly) disgusted too?

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Last Ditch Efforts...

Are worth a shot. Even if all they get is a laugh.

Setting: Dingy, smoky local bar, Saturday night, 1:50am

Them: Hey, how you ladies doing tonight?

Us: Fine thanks, how 'bout you?

Them: Great. Have a good time tonight?

Us: Yeah.

Bouncer: Alright everybody, time to go.

Them: What are your names?

Us: Dauntless and Dauntless' friend.

Them: We're Darryl and Joe.

Bouncer: Make your way to the door folks.

Us (getting off our bar stools): Well...

Them: Would you two like to continue this conversation at our place?


Them: Come on, it's still early.

Us: Mmm, no thanks.

Them: We have beer.

Us (looking at each other, grinning): No really. But thanks.

Them: We've got drugs!

Us (beer spraying from our nostrils): Now that's a good one.

Monday, April 21, 2008

The Biggest Loser...

As a tv show, it can't be beat. As a strategy for dating, it just plain sucks.

I was half-drunk (excuse) the other night after coming home from a happy hour (attempt to prove I'm not a loser) and decided to check my email. Match emailed me some good looking guys that day (stretching the truth) so I decided to click on a couple of them. I didn't know it would sign me into the website (lie). And I certainly didn't think anyone out there in cyber space would notice (wishful thinking). Somehow during my three minutes (20) online, I got the following email:

"11:00 Friday night, and we're both on something that ends with ".com". Pretty sweet."

Hey buddy, look, I know me and I'm no loser (usually). But now you think I am and you're still emailing me? You win. You're the biggest loser.

Sunday, April 06, 2008

Just a Touch of Sarcasm

Dear B-,

I really enjoyed reading your profile. I especially liked when you talked about wanting to change your outlook on 'gringas'. I think women need to be described in derogatory terms more often. Chris Matthews and David Shuster just don't do enough of it for me. Don't those feminists out there who want respect from men really irk you? They seem to be the same women who want -gasp- a female president!

You requested that only if we're fun and interesting enough to hang out with you, should we write. Well, I want to let you know that I'm fun (we'll do whatever you want to do) and interesting (I'll always agree with your point of view). Look no further B-, I'm the gringa (bitch, slut, whore) for you!


PS - I love the picture of you grabbing your balls!

Sunday, March 30, 2008

Break's Over...

Back in the pool!

Springtime has showered the Nation's Capital in yellow sunshine, bright flowers, and breezy Cherry Blossoms. It's enough to make a girl feel optimistic about love. Shoot, it's made this girl dauntless about dating again. Yep, I'm re-entering the dating pool fellas. Look out.

Guys, you might want to take this opportunity to do some spring cleaning with your pick up lines. Here's what I heard just last night...

"What are you doing here?"

"What's your favorite candy?"

"What brings you here?"

"You ever heard of Manassas?"

"So, why are you here tonight?"

"I just so happen to be single."

Thankfully, I did hear this one, "I bought an extra shot. Do you want it?"

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

That Was Me Just Saying So.

After a few too many bad-but-not-bad-enough-to-be-blog-worthy-dates, I knew I needed a couple of weeks off. Even self-proclaimed 'dauntless daters' get sick of this shit.

The week before I made my decision to go on a break from all men, I met a guy at a bar and had planned to get a drink with him in the near future. In order to stay on the up and up with my good friend karma, I decided to be honest with this guy instead of just not returning his call.

So, I texted him (hey, I said I wanted to be honest, not that I had the biggest balls on the block). I told him that I was going to take a break from dating but that it was great to meet him.

Fifteen minutes later, my phone beeped and I had this message, " I was talking about drinks not necissarily dating. And you could have just said so."

Four things:
One. You're a dick. Two. Going on a date is dating. Three. I did just say so. And four. Get spellcheck.

When you haven't even gone on a first date, you can't take the shit this personally.

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Maybe if this was 1608

"Ok everyone. Let's go around the room and introduce ourselves." said the teacher to a roomful of adults who didn't care to know anyone else's name.

"Hi, I'm Andy Fallon."

"Hi. My name is Sheryl Logan."

We continued,

"Hi, I'm {Dauntless Dater}." (Dauntless is not very Irish sounding, but the real one is straight from the Old Country).

Introductions led to instruction and shortly, to the end of class. Now was my chance to make eye contact with the thirty-something guy whose knees were shoved next to mine under the too-short science lab table. I smiled as we stacked our chairs. That's when he asked, "So, do you speak Gaelic?"

My head tilted 45 degrees as I argued with myself as to whether or not I heard him right, "Uhhh, no."

That was it. End of conversation. What the?

Isn't that like asking an Italian if she speaks Latin?

Saturday, January 12, 2008

We Already Know You Like Sex

No need to mention it in your list of 'favorite things' on your profile. Also no need to mention that you are looking for someone else who likes sex. We know that too.

I have a little secret for you. Come in real close. Closer. Closer. That's good. Prepare yourself. This is ground-breadking stuff. Are you ready? Women like sex too!

If a woman told you she didn't like sex, all that means is that she didn't like sex with you.

Bet no chick's ever told LL Cool J she didn't like banging.

Tuesday, January 01, 2008

Rocket Man

At the risk of piquing on the first day of 2008, I must share this one with you.

My friend "Karen" who had this bad luck several months ago, recently met "Steve" online. They had a lot in common and decided to go out on a date.

The date went well, no real sparks, but the conversation flowed and he asked to see her again. She said 'yes'. The next day, Karen received a text message from Steve, "Good morning beautiful. Hope you have a good day."

Hmm, that's a little over the top after one date, thought Karen. But like all good daters, she was willing to let a little thing like that slide.

The next day, Karen opened her phone to find this message: "Hope you have a great day, too bad it didn’t work out. On our next date, I was planning on taking you to outer space on a rocket ship."

What. the. fuck.

Three days after that he was asking her out again.

Acting like a head case, not a good strategy.