Inception of The List

If there's one thing a single girl knows...it's lists. We have lists for bloody everything: to-do list (clean house, change bulb in back-up lights on car), grocery list (milk, bagels, Carmen Electra's Striptease video collection #1 and 2), list of qualities we want in a potential guy we date (sense of humor, obsessed with Scrabble, employed), and pros/cons list of reasons to date or not to date a guy (pro: good manners, con: bad hygiene). Once we've settled into a cosy relationship, we still make lists...like the dreaded list of reasons why a guy hasn't proposed (contracted rare form of bacteria which has rendered him temporarily insane AND without use of speech. Come on MDs of the world - you've absolutely got to find a cure for this!).

The list I've decided to make is the list to end all lists (or at least temporarily replace some of those mentioned above). I'll give you the Reader's Digest version of how the idea of the list came to be. I'm sorry to report, it was because of a guy (actually this is the result of an accumulation of dating doozies with this being the proverbial bike seat that chafed my a**). So this guy..a real wanker we'll call Roger the Banker. Roger the Banker: a real wanker, has a nice rhyming effect doesn't it? (**not his real name...after all what kind of parent would name their kid Roger. If your name is Roger and you're reading this, please forgive me, I'm sure you're parents really are delightful. But this story isn't about you ok, so back to me).

Roger and I met "online". We were both signed onto a popular dating site (which shall remain nameless). Point is he was funny and smart and cute, and not your typical banker (I should know, my Dad's a banker - sorry Dad!). After chatting online for a week or two, I felt very comfortable giving Roger my cell number. We live in an area that only has so many bankers, therefore I was able to do some back ground checking. This was quite easy because Roger actually gave me his last name and I used to be a private investigator. Turns out, he was who he said he was. A relief and sometimes a rareity in the world of online dating. He called on a Sunday evening in late May (very important to note) and we chatted over the phone for about an hour. Things in common: we both have a son, both our sons have the same name, Aidan. Ok, so how would I handle that if we got married? "Aidan #1 come pick up your socks!" "Aidan #2 did you remember to make your bed?"

We agreed that a meet-and-greet was in order (in-person chemistry and all that jazz). Roger suggested we meet during the up-coming weekend or next week. I said that sounded like a plan (albeit not a firm one). He said he'd call through the week to confirm, plan where to meet, etc. Fade to over joyous singleton modestly (ok ok, proudly) telling her colleagues that a date with a banker, correction, a bank manager was in works for the weekend. I know, I know Roger didn't say for sure it would be the weekend, he left the option open to meet the next week. But I figured what guy would want to wait? My coworkers (the advice givers that they are) suggested that Aidan squared was not a dealbreaker (Dr. Phil speak). But fact that he owns a condo in another city, which his ex-girlfriend lives in (the condo, and the city) with their son because gosh darn it, he didn't want his son living in a slum...THAT might be an issue. Not that I question his pure desire to see his son raised in a nice area but the fact that his ex lives there and nice-as-can-be leaves and stays with her sister when he is in town, tells me they could still be together and he has Navy-syndrome (a girl in every port). The weekend went by...no call from Roger. The next week went by...no call from Roger. But wait, what's this? An email.

Email #1: Turns out Roger didn't forget about me after all. He just got really busy at work. *ahem* Obviously, he was sending this info via email to gauge my level of annoyance. He also wanted to know if I had forgotten about him. I carefully chose words for a reply (remember: light and breezy, light and breezy!). I advised Roger that I too had been quite busy and vaguely remembered our phone convo.

Email #2: Point taken, he was a wanker (my words) for not calling and dropping off the face of the earth. Was glad I hadn't been waiting by phone (I think a 90's pop-culture phrase could be employed well here...as if!) . Was I too busy to go for a drink? I checked my date book for the upcoming week: appointment with Sandra for hair trim/ brow tint, clean house, coach soccer, check oil in car, go for jog, clean house. Ofcourse I could have made time. But the real question was, did I want to? I think we all know what I told Roger. Advised Roger that I was free. On June 24th (keep in mind this would amount to approximately three weeks of waiting time). I appologized for the time delay but my very active cupid-wantabe coworkers had blind dates arranged for me (not exactly untrue as they frequently doing this but to be honest, I didn't have anything scheduled for the next couple of weeks).

Email #3: He accepted, June 24th. Part of me was happy Roger was willing to make plans that far in advance. Part of me lost some respect for him that he was willing to do that. He wanted to have a "phone date" in the meantime and find out more about these blind dates...after all he's quite competitive (which is probably the one thing I actually know about men). I'll spare you the details of my confusion over what a phone date entails...

Cut to hour-long phone convo number two. Roger really wanted to know details of other blind dates and who these guys were. Did not give him any satisfaction. At the end of the conversation, I asked him what he had in mind for our date on the 24th. Roger opted to chat before then and would choose something based on date activities I did with blind dates; he wanted to out do them. Again, he reminded me how competitive he is. You don't say...I was tempted to have a bit of fun with this and advise Roger that one of my blind dates took me to Paris. My coworkers (who had no use for Roger the Banker by this time) thought this would be quite funny. But I do have a conscience (I know, who knew?).

In the end, Roger didn't call. We didn't go out on the 24th. I had been beaten at my own game. I know, I asked for it. The whole ordeal (one of many many oh so many) had left me disillusioned with the whole dating scenario. And then, an idea popped into my head. To avoid future dating frustrations like above (at least in the short term) I was going to make a list. A list to end all lists. A list of things I had to do before I was able to accept another dating invitation. Items on the list were things I always wanted to do or should do but kept putting off (white water rafting, watching Debbie Does Dallas) because I was waiting to be in a relationship before taking them on. Some of the things are also just for fun and have no purpose what so ever other than to keep me busy (to avoid thinking about the dating I'm not doing). Or just for the sheer knowledge or enjoyment it will bring (see item #2 and 7).