I'm Awful Broke for a 'Window Shopper'

As I believe I've mentioned, to great fanfare, I am exploring all manner of dating at the moment. A combination of being bored, realistic, optimistic and just cold (ie No beer gardens or street fests to adorably bump into cute, unbundled boys), I have put myself on Match and ever since then, a plethora of other odd options have presented themselves. To which I seem to keep responding, Why the F* not?

My favorite thus far was brought to my attention by Caro on Wednesday. CrazyBlindDate.com. It's free, you answer maybe 5 questions, give them two free evenings and they call you one of those nights if they've found someone who wants to meet for a drink. And there was a double date option so I, of course, signed Caro and I up immediately. Worst case scenario? We get enjoy each other's company, a city story and some cocktailing. Maybe try a new place. Let you know what develops- for better or worse.

So the next day I'm catching up on Susie's blog and I see she's linked to a little quiz. A quiz powered by the site OKCupid.com. The same damn site that powers Crazy Blind Date. A site I'd never so much as heard of 12 hours before. It's probably The Secret again. Anyway, the quiz is about your dating style. Ha- how about my non-dating style?

I fill out the quiz. I get the answer. And sit there whispering to myself, "Tell me I did not just have a Come to Jesus moment with what amounts to being a slightly more sophisticated version of the AOL quizzes people were so crazy for 10 years ago."

Diagnosis: I am a "Window Shopper." No, please, don't get up. I'll put the text below:

"Loving, hopeful, open. Likely to carry on an romance from afar.

You take love as opportunities come, which can lead to a high-anxiety, but high-flying romantic life. You're a genuinely sweet person, not saccharine at all, so it's likely that the relationships you have had and will have will be happy ones. You've had a fair amount of love experience for your age, and there'll be much more to come.

Part of why we know this is that, of all female types, you are the most prone to sudden, ferocious crushes. Your results indicate that you're especially capable of obsessing over a guy you just met. Obviously, passion like this makes for an intense existence. It can also make for soul-destroying letdowns.

Your ideal match is someone who'll love you back with equal fire, and someone you've grown to love slowly. A self-involved or pessimistic man is especially bad. Though you're drawn to them, avoid artists at all costs."

That last line from above. Really? Did a cheesy dating quiz really just put the smack down on my beloved back-n-forth? Ridiculous. Any advice on how to break the pattern would be much appreciated. I'm too young to be a lost cause and "avoiding artists" is going to prove a challenge.

And, in one week I now have 3 things in my rapidly thickening "Could not make this shit up" file. So now it's time for a reality-based confession of sorts.

I have never been in a relationship with anyone who lives in the same place I do. Never.

Rundown:

• I had a church camp boyfriend on and off for a few years in middle school/ high school (yes, I went to Lutheran church camp). He lived in Atlanta and I lived in Memphis. We were puppies, very intense puppies who listened to too much of The Distance to Here by Live. We still keep up via facebook which is pretty great/hysterical. Should I ever reference him again, his name is Amoeba Man.

• Then my college boyfriend came around, the one largely referred to as simply the Ex on this site as he was the most serious. Three years of back and forth between Ohio and Nashville during school, Memphis and Jersey in the summer. I had a completely separate life at his school, to a strange degree, as I was there a lot. To this day, I still think of my time at Vandy when I think of quintessential collegiate obscenity. And I think of Miami when I think of amazing girlfriends who put up with my constantly leaving them for someone they weren't too impressed by. I never spoke to him again. But I speak to the friends I made down there often and I'd never regret the relationship or that it ended.
  

• Then of course D$, still a great friend, who I started dating the week before graduation only to "break up" the week before he moved to Chicago. We then became platonic companions (dating other people but acting like an old married couple) for the next 2 years which, correct me if I'm wrong here D, may qualify as the "healthiest" relationship to date for both of us.

• Then, well, whatever Jaimeson and I have been up to for the last year and a half. Talk about distance...it's not even the same distance from week to week. And it's always something to look forward to.

So yeah, I guess I am in fact a window shopper. Glad I now have a name for this complex my mother has been grumbling about for years. It's a bit of an issue, I just don't think about it very often. I love the special occasion aspect of a long-distance relationship. There's a degree of distance from reality that is appealing. There is extra effort that goes into communicating that's quite romantic and the time that IS spent together is intense.

Fine, there's also the alarming amount of independence and a limited amount of commitment to knowing and being known by someone else. Can I get off the couch now?

Another odd side effect, when I miss someone: I tend to crave the food that reminds me of them. A creepy cook to the core. Tonight when I got back from the show, I put together an easy, delicious Greek plate. Toasted pita bread on the bottom, baby spinach leaves, homemade yogurt sauce, falafel and a little fat free feta on top. Leftover couscous pilaf on the side. What a healthy little Cretan I've become.

I know, I really need a camera.

TKTC Greek Yogurt Sauce (modified since last time)
1 carton of 2% Fage Greek yogurt
2 TB chopped flat leaf parsley
1 TB fresh chives
1 minced garlic clove
1/2 tsp white wine vinegar
Juice of 1/2 a lemon
Pinch of sea salt
Fresh ground pepper to taste
Put all in bowl. Stir. Ta-DA!

Now I really am gone till Tuesday. Smell the hairspray darlings.