You guys are FEISTY!!

Wow, you guys. You certainly had a strong reaction to yesterday's post about the saboteur and The Greek. A few observations:

• I am soooooo glad that, for the most part, you were all on my side. Because I would NEVER want to be on your collective bad side based on your feedback. There were some... ahem... passionate comments in the bunch! (Check them all out here.)


• You all love The Greek. (See? Why do you think I said I was pleasantly surprised by the date after my string of less-than-stellar ones? Too bad I think this little episode may have ruined any chances of future dates with him.) BTW, how effing funny is the picture I found to accompany this post? Your Greekness is my weakness. Hysterical.


• This post brought out some funny shit from you mofos. For example, Alexa introduced me to the term "blosse" (blog + posse). And, my friend Travis (who did not comment on the post) suggested that I should use names like they do for prisoners so no one can figure out the real identity of my dates in the future (e.g., CSX157). Romantic, no?

Anyhow, thanks for all your kind words and emails, guys. Really. I never started this blog with the intention of trashing the guys I go out with. (Contrary to what the saboteur might think.) And, I really hope sooner than later, the dating ends and I find my Prince Charming!!

Because, honestly... I don't think I have it in me to deal with much more blogma. (Alexa, that's blog + drama.)

Have a happy day, everyone! I'm sending a little Always a Bridesmaid love back at ya today! :)

Keep your friends close...

... and, apparently, your blog readers closer.

If you've spent any time over the last few days reading comments on one of my recent blog posts, you probably know where this is going.

If you haven't, buckle up.

I learned on Friday that one of my readers took it upon herself (or himself) to read this post recapping my date with The Greek, spend who-knows-how-much time trying to figure out who he was in real life, figured it out, tracked him down and sent him a link to the blog telling him to watch out for me.

(Sidenote: blogmom would have been so proud of this person's Cyber McGyver skills. Except for the fact that they were put to use to screw her daughter. So, probably not so much now.)

Awesome. An e-cock block. Well, except that I was the one getting blocked, so I guess it can't technically be a coc... oh, you know what I mean.

But seriously, peeps. As if I don't have a hard enough time with my dating life, I now apparently have someone who is trying to sabotage it even further.

(And just when I finally had a fun date with a guy who I would have wanted to go out with again.)

And the bitch of it is that this saboteur knows my real identity (she/he used my name in the email), yet commented as "anonymous" on the post so I don't know hers/his. (The "anonymous" post was left after The Greek left a post which I responded to.)

Now don't get me wrong, readers. I would totally get it if you knew my real identity and somehow figured out that I was dating one of your friends, so you wanted to warn him about the blog. That's called being a good friend.

This situation? I'm not really sure what to call it. Other than totally effed up.

I have a lot of less-than-nice things to say about this situation, but I'm going to try to be the bigger person and end this post now so I can refrain from doing so.

But that doesn't mean you have to! What do you think? Am I overreacting? Or did this cross the line?

P.S. Apologies to The Greek for being outed. That was obvi never my intention. (If I knew how to say "sorry" in Greek, I would! However, I would not ironically say "sooooooorry" like I did to Molly in my last post.)

Soooooooooooorry

There are two reasons for this apology post.

SOOOOOOORRY #1

First, I feel horrible about an entry I wrote back in October recapping a surprise party I went to for my friend Christina's birthday. In it, I used the name of our server, Walter, and sort of made him sound like a d-bag.

(It has always been my policy not to use the real names of guys I date, but I used Walter's real name because he wasn't a "date" of mine... though I now realize that the way I painted him was unfair and I probs shouldn't have named him. So I'm not even linking to that post. You can dig for it if you really want to read it.)

Anyhow, Walter was FAR from a d-bag. In fact, my friends and I talked about him for weeks afterward because he took such good care of us. I mention this because someone who knows Walter must have recently forwarded that post to him, because he commented on it just this week to clear his name.

And, because I doubt you guys are going to go back nearly five months to see his comment, I am taking this opportunity apologize to Walter from Lago. Sorry, Wally! (BTW, you should still get a watch.)

SOOOOOOOORRY #2

Today is my friend Molly's birthday, and the "soooooooorry" header for this post (with the intentional bazillion "o"s) is an homage to her.

Molly and I used to watch a DVD of Ellen DeGeneres stand-up on Friday nites when we were home... single... eating Mitchell's ice cream... in our flannel pajama pants. In the DVD, Ellen did a whole schtick about how, when people say "sooooooorry" with exaggerated "o"s, they don't really mean it. (You just said it in your head, didn't you?)

So, ever since then, Molly and I say "soooooorry" to each other. And, even though Molls is now happily married (my most recent bridesmaid endeavor!) and we don't have our Ellen/ice cream/PJ get-togethers anymore, I still giggle every time I hear someone say it like that. So, Molls... soooooooorry you're getting older! :)

P.S. thanks to all of you for your sweet comments on my recent date with The Greek. It was nice to go out and have fun with a guy who didn't make me want to vurp (vomit + burp) in my mouth, and I'm glad you guys think so too! And, judging from comments on that same post, you all REALLY like the idea of doing March Man-ness brackets for my dates. It is under consideration by management...

P.P.S. welcome to all my new followers! As blogdad would say, I now have "double nickles" (55) followers on the site. If you want to see who's following or become a follower yourself, check out the little box right over there. <--- Many of my followers write great blogs of their own. (Though I dare you to find one whose dating life has been as horrendous as mine!) Check them out!

It's all Greek to me!

So, it's 11:40 and I just got home from my date with The Greek. And, much to my delight, it didn't completely suck ass! (Hey, my standards are not all that high anymore.)

(And, actually, I'm kidding. It was really fun!)

We met for a drink at Luxe, then headed to see a film at the Cleveland International Film Festival at Tower City.

(BTW, have you gone yet? You should. Even if the movies are weird -- which many of them are -- it's a really cool experience.)

The Greek had VIP passes to the festival, but was clearly not sure what to do with them or the complimentary valet parking that came with them. Which was actually sort of endearing.

Let's backtrack a bit, though... how did we meet, you ask? Well, in the spirit of Manhunt March... it was I, your dear (or bitchy?) Always a Bridesmaid, who made the initial contact with The Greek after reading about him in a blog article about a week or two ago.

I'm really not sure what compelled me to email him, but I did. And we started emailing. And then he asked me out (though tonite was the first nite we were both free). And then he Facebook friended me. And then we met in person tonite. (Which, incidentally, was also the first time we talked in person. But, at least he didn't text me, right?!?)

Anyhow, I was pleasantly surprised with how easily the conversation flowed. And, The Greek was a lot cuter in person that in his Facebook pictures (which were pretty cute in and of themselves).

(However, I *might* weigh more than him. Seriously.)

And while some of his traits are not my typical "type" (including two large tattoos on each arm and a previous life as a skater punk), he also had some really amazing stories to tell (including working for a couple of nonprofit associations and a short stint in the Peace Corps).

Hmmm...

Fun fact: this is now the second "first date" that I have come home with a new t-shirt. Prior to the movie starting (it was a Greek foreign film), The Greek answered a quiz question correctly and won the shirt. He promptly handed it over to me and, to my delight, it was actually the right size! (I usually end up with free t-shirts in size XL, which all 5'2" of me can belt and wear as a dress.) So, even if he never calls again, I at least have a fun memento to remember the nite by.

BTW, in the midst of emailing with The Greek today to finalize our plans for tonite, I made a date with yet another guy for next week. (Hey, a girl's gotta play the field, right? More to come on guy number two next week.)

Who needs basketball games when my love life is turning into March Man-ness? (Maybe we should do brackets for my dates!)

Secrets, secrets are no fun...

... but they DO make for great birthday presents!

Ever since I wrote about my impending date on Tuesday nite, my middle sissy has been bugging the hell out of me for details about it.

And, since today is her 30th birthday, I am going to gift her with the deets about the secret date.

But the rest of you are just gonna have to wait until Wednesday for the details. Because, honestly, I don't even want to bore you with the back story if he turns out to be a dud.

(Which would be par for the course these days, I'm afraid.)

Fingers crossed, ladies (and gents!).

And happy bday, sis!

You give Val a bad name*

(* with apologies to JBJ and the rest of the Bon Jovi gang)

It seems I may have jumped the gun on suggesting that Val was a cokehead because he texted me at 7am last weekend.

Why? Because my friend texted me at (what I thought was) 1:13am last nite. So I wrote her back this morning and was like, "Why the eff were you texting me at 1am?"

She responded, "I didn't. I sent that at 8:29!"

Ooops. Which means the span between her sending the message and me getting the message was nearly five hours. Which also means that it's possible that Val actually sent that 7am message to me at more like 2am.

(And, really, who among us hasn't sent a drunk text when the bars were closing? Though I did specifically ask him after receiving that 7am text whether he had just sent it and I just got the proverbial "LOL!" response.)

So, I'm sorry for giving you a bad name, Val. Maybe you were being legit and just drunk texting me at the much more understandable time of 2am.

Or, maybe you're still just a cokehead. But I am willing to give you a second chance if you ever actually follow through with your suggestion of grabbing drinks.

In the meantime, I am continuing my Manhunt March activities and will have an update for all of you next week... including a date I have on Tuesday with a new potential... stay tuned!

P.S. Happy Spring!

Men are from Mars, women are from...

... total awesomeness! Ha ha ha!! OK, just kidding, guys. (Wink wink, ladies.)

But seriously. The comments on my last post (about Val and his weird 7am text) just go to prove that men and women really do have different brains.

The guys (for the most part) thought I was jumping to conclusions about Val and that I was reading too much into his text and its arrival time.

The women, on the other hand, were in total agreement with me that the guy is a slimeball and, quite possibly, a cokehead.

So, mystery solved. (Well, not really. I think it's safe to say that both sexes are still mysteries to each other.) But maybe mystery confirmed. Men and women really do interpret things totally differently.

Too bad for the guys that they're always on the side that interprets things wrong. ;)

Texts from last nite

If you read this blog with any regularity, you are well aware of my disdain for dating in the digital age. As in, boys using text messaging to court a lady.

(Don't get me wrong. I'm not expecting some handwritten love letter delivered by pony express. But maybe, just maybe, can you pick up the phone to call me a couple of times?!?)

Anyhow... I just discovered an awesome blog that I can totally relate to: Texts from Last Night. It's basically a running list of crazy texts readers sent or received the previous nite. Mosey on over and check it out. I promise you'll be entertained.

A recent example posted on the site (the numbers are the area codes of the sender/receiver):

(425): Just met a synchronized swimmer, can you imagine the things she could do in the water(425): Legs for days

(425): Harpoon that

I bring this up because I think I may have a text to submit to this site now. After a few weekend texts from Val asking what I was doing on Saturday nite, he asked me to meet up for some beers sometime soon since I already had plans on Saturday. Fair enough. But then I received this text message from him:

What did u do tonite?

Well, at least he remembered the question mark this time. And the text in and of itself isn't bad at all. But here's the rub: the text came in at 7:04 am. Yes, he was still awake at 7 in the morning. Presumably from the nite before, since he used the word "tonite."

Now, I know it sounds like I'm jumping to conclusions here. But I did tell you that I thought he partied a little too much based on what I saw on his Facebook page right after he friended me last month. And today's Facebook status now reads: Val is going to lay low for a while. (Which, incidentally, was followed by several people's comments saying that would never happen.)

Do you think I'm jumping to conclusions? Or do you agree that this guy is just bad news?

Mr. & Mrs. Twinkle Toes

One of my favorite parts of being in or going to weddings is watching the new couple's first dance. Unfortunately, I missed the first dance of Simply Married and her new hubs this past summer because I was -- you guessed it -- serving as a bridesmaid in another wedding that day.

So I was very excited today to find that she recently posted their first dance on her blog. Go check it out here.

If I ever get married, I really want to dance to an upbeat song like these two did. I just feel like it will set the tone for a super fun reception/party.

(As a sidenote, my youngest sissy had always said she wanted to walk down the aisle to "Back that Thang Up." She didn't, but our other sissy actually did rap Kriss Kross' "Jump" -- word for word -- at her own wedding reception. So, I guess I don't really have to worry about whether my wedding would be fun even if I do start with a slower song as my first dance, huh?)

What was the best first dance song you've ever heard?

I've heard of a 3-day wait period, but this is just crazy

We all have heard "the rule" for how long a guy waits to call (or these days, text) a girl after an initial conversation or first date. What, two or three days, right?

Wrong. Apparently, it's almost one month. After having brunch the day after Valentine's Day with Val (after meeting the nite before and him being adamant about getting together sooner than later), he pretty much disappeared (even though we had talked about possibly getting together the following weekend to grab a drink at The Velvet Tango Room).

Since that is par for the course in my dating life, I didn't think anything of it. And the more I "virtually" got to know him through his Facebook status updates (he had "friended" me while we were on our brunch date), the more I was questioning just what kind of guy Val is.

(What grown-ass man uses the word "dookies" in his status updates? Seriously?)

Then, on Wednesday nite, I receive this text from Val at almost 10:30pm:

R u doing happy hour tomorrow

My initial reactions to the text:

• You are very random, Val


• He must have sent this text to the wrong person


• Did we have plans that I don't remember making?


• Why didn't he use a question mark?

After that short-lived inner monologue, I texted back that I already had dinner plans with some friends, but assumed he must be going to happy hour so to have fun.

He replied with this: I was gonna meet up with u a chop house.

Again, I do not recall having plans to go to the Chop House with you, Val (though I do love their happy hour). I mean, if that is a request for a date, couldn't he at least have said, "I was hoping we could meet up at Chop House for a drink." Or something sort of like that?!?

Regardless, I had other plans last nite (a very fun girl date at Three Birds, where I ate too much bread and drank too much wine), so I didn't end up meeting up with him.

Guess that means I should expect to hear from him again in about another month or so. (Man, I am getting flashbacks of The Groundhog!)

Boys are weird

I just wrote an entire post about a very strange boy incident I had with The Insurance Guy last nite, but then realized it was so long and rambling that no one would care. So I erased the entire thing. (I mean, I even bored myself.) For a backgrounder on him, go here.

Suffice to say that after a very fun dinner with my friend Mo (the kind of friend you can go months without seeing, then immediately pick up where you left off), we met up with The Insurance Guy at a bar down the street, after he texted and called for us to meet him.

(Mo was formerly neighbors with The Insurance Guy, before he and his wife split up. She fixed us up last summer and we went on a couple of dates, but he was in the middle of his divorce and I just wasn't ready for that sitch after my whole saga with The Divorcee.)

What ensued was a very, very strange couple of hours. Some highlights of what the evening entailed:

• A silk blouse that didn't want to stay buttoned (mine)


• A 60-year-old insurance agent (who works for The Insurance Guy) who I thought was hitting on me (as did Mo) until he mentioned his wife


• A meh-cute bartender who apparently also dated The Insurance Guy (I mean, really? Why in the world would you ask a girl that you went on a few dates with to meet you at a bar where another girl you dated bartends? Pick somewhere else, you d-bag.)


• Some shady goings-on between the bar owner and The Insurance Guy (they kept disappearing together into some hidden room)


• A bet that involved me doing the splits in the bar if the 60-year-old tried them (he didn't)

It was just really weird. I mean, The Insurance Guy was all about us meeting him out, then basically ignored us for half of the time we were there. It was just really, really odd. Especially because the bar he was at was completely out of the way for him to be at. So we knew he basically picked it because we were having dinner down the street.

As soon as we said our goodbyes to the guys and got in our cars, I got a call from Mo (who, as you remember, was the one who fixed us up in the first place and had previously thought The Insurance Guy was an awesome catch). Her take on the whole nite? "I think he is just maybe sorta weird."

Amen, sister. Amen.

Six degrees sidenote: before she was married, Mo tried to fix me up with her now-husband (she was interested in someone else at the time). And she also knew the meh-cute bartender from the gym who dated The Insurance Guy.

Seriously... do you guys have this whole six degrees thing happen to you as much as it seems to plague me?

Excuses, excuses

We've all heard them. The lame-o excuses for why he didn't call when he said he would, why he couldn't get together, why he couldn't answer when you called.

(And, to be fair, we've probably all used some of them ourselves, right?)

That said, my friend from work dated a guy for a few months who literally had more excuses than anyone I have ever heard of. They stopped dating, but she still has a running tab of all of the excuses he used over the course of the time they were dating. A sampling:

• Threw his back out


• Phone was "catastrophically jacked up" and had been for three days


• Had to make an emergency and unexpected visit to PA to deal with family issues (twice)


• Was going to be "driving around til God knows when"


• Really sick and may have had pneumonia


• "Seriously ill" from bad fish

And, of course, most (if not all) of these excuses were delivered via text. (And we all know how I feel about that.)

Now I'm racking my brain to remember some of the doozies I've heard. What are some of your favorite excuses from boys?

Frogs and snails and puppy dog tails...

I had a Saturday full of parties, but unfortunately none of them had any potential boy toys in store for me. (Though they did both involve boys and toys.)

I started the day with a road trip to Toledo for a friend's baby shower. She's having her first kid (a boy) in May, so four of us road tripped our way there for a three-hour "open house" style shower.

(Which was awesome, BTW. If you are pregs and planning a shower, do it like this. We were instructed not to wrap presents, so the guest of honor just looked at what we gave her as soon as we came in, and then we just all hung out for the rest of the afternoon. No hours-long present opening torture.)

After the shower, we drove back home to Cleveland, at which point I immediately turned around and headed to a 2-year-old birthday party for my friends' son. (Who I discovered probably has the same maturity level as most of the guys I date: give them both some food and a bottle and they're happy.)

Anyhow, I'll tell you what... there's nothing like four-plus hours in the car with newlyweds and a new(ish) mom to remind you of how single you are. At one point, one of the girls actually had the balls to specifically call me out about not understanding how hard it is to get pregnant (probably assuming I am doing everything in my power to not get pregs -- no worries there). Um, don't insult me, please. Just because I'm not married or have children doesn't mean that I can't understand what that is like. In fact, I have had plenty of conversations with friends and family about that very topic. (Trust me.)

I really, really wanted to tell her that she had no idea what it's like to be 33, single (with friends who are getting married and/or having kids every two seconds) and not dating anyone.

But I didn't. Because I was too pissed at that point to say something that wouldn't have come out completely bitchy. So I saved it for you guys. (And it's probs still bitchy anyhow.) :)

How do you handle it when someone says something that's totally out of line to you? Confrontation? Or do you subscribe to "if you can't say anything nice..." mantra?

"Do you want my friend's autograph?"

I can honestly say that Wednesday nite was the first time I heard that line used as a pick-up.

Here's how it went down: I met up with a girl who was in Cleveland Magazine's "Sexy Singles" article with me a couple of years back. (Obviously, the article didn't do much for our love lives, since we're both still single.) Anyhow, we recently reconnected and decided to catch up for a drink. Aaaaaaaand scene:

[Two former "Sexy Singles" chatting about their lack of love lives over a couple of beers at the Winking Lizard on Rockside Road.]

GUY 1: Hey, do you want my friend's autograph?

US: [nervous laughter] Why would we want his autograph?

GUY 1: Because he was in a soap opera.

US: [looking at GUY 2 to determine whether he was cute enough to be on a soap opera. He was no dreamboat, but he was definitely cute. I thought it he looked sort of like Rick Solomon, but my friend disagreed.] Really? Which soap opera?

GUY 2: The Young and the Restless.

US: What was your character?

GUY 2: I was CHEESY SOAP OPERA-Y NAME (AAB sidenote: I'm not using the real character name because I know you guys -- you'd IMDB his ass and figure out his real name, which is a no-no on this here blog.)

US: When were you on?

GUY 2: In the 80's.

Aaaaand scene.

It turns out that GUY 2 was a child actor and appeared in a handful of episodes over the course of a couple of years. And his dad somehow stole all of the money he made (can you say Michael Lohan?!?!) years and years ago. But he claimed to still have DVDs of his "work."

In retrospect, GUY 2 was actually very nice, funny, cute, tall, wore a watch and didn't have gross hands. Problem is, GUY 1 (the friend who initially got our attention) pretty much went from wingman to cock block in a matter of about 45 minutes. In fact, GUY 1 got so drunk that they took his beer away and made them leave.

(That happened, of course, after another friend -- GUY 3 -- showed up to meet them, and GUY 1 whispered to us on the side that GUY 3 had appeared in adult films many years ago. I'm not sure what his deal was with calling his friends out for being in films/on TV, but whatevs.)

Sooo... I discovered two things on Wednesday: 1. it is hard to pick up a guy when he has to escort his drunk friend out of a bar 2. I should really start watching more soap operas because, apparently, some of those guys now live in Cleveland.

And I guess if the former soap opera star route doesn't work out... there's always the former porn star option, right?

(Eeeew. Sick. I'm sorry I even typed that. Please erase that last sentence from your memory.)

Jason Mesnick: Part 2

I just had a revelation: bachelor Jason Mesnick was on the wrong reality TV show all along.

He didn't belong on The Bachelor. He should have been on The Biggest Loser. Because that's what he is.

*** end of rant ***

In other news, The Doctor called tonite, but I was in the other room and missed his call. Crap! However, he did leave a nice, cordial, short message. But in that 10-seconds-or-so span of time, he did manage to mention his parents (which is where he was when he texted on Sunday, or so I gathered). That's a good sign. A guy who's family-oriented is important to me.

Anyhow, it was too late to call him back for a "first" phone call by the time I picked up the message. (Around 9:30.) Is that rationale queer? Probably.

But at least that gave me time to watch the stupid Bachelor reunion episode. Which made me realize that The Doctor has got to be better than at least one single guy out there. (Yeah, I'm talking about you, Jason. Why don't you go cry about it now?) And, yes, before you ask... I will be calling him back tomorrow.

I mean, it is Manhunt March, after all.

The Bachelor or The Crybaby?

PLEASE tell me you watched the finale of The Bachelor.

(Actually, I'd probably have more respect for you if you didn't. But, of course, I did watch. So I won't judge.)

What a crock of crap. I mean, at least Chris Harrison was finally right in touting the episode as "the most dramatic rose ceremony EVER."

But, really, Jason? You pick one girl, then dump her, then get together with the one you originally dumped, tell her you're now picking her, then skip off the stage holding hands like a couple of 8-year-olds? (After you cried approximately 72 times.) For seriously?

The sad part is, I really liked Jason for most of this season. (Minus that whole cheesy makeout scene in the hot tub a couple of weeks ago.) But last nite's episode just made me realize that pretty much every guy in the country is noncommittal -- even the ones who go on reality TV shows with the intention of finding a wife!

(BTW, if I were Melissa, I would have poked Jason in the eye with the thorns from my final rose during the reunion show.)

What did you think of the finale?

Do you think he texts in prescriptions too?

After learning from blogdad that he had given my number to The Doctor last week, I honestly wasn't expecting to hear from him.

But I did.

This afternoon.

Via text.

The message:

Hi, Always a Bridesmaid. Your dad stopped by my office with a beautiful picture of you and your parents along with your number...

Um... I'm not even sure what to do with this. On one hand, I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt with this whole texting business. Maybe he's really shy. Or maybe he's trying to put feelers out to see if I respond before he calls so as to avoid rejection.

On the other hand... seriously?!?!? Your first outreach is via text? And not even a, "Hi, this is The Doctor. Blah blah blah." What did men do prior to texting? Ugh. I am really not feeling the initial text outreach.

However, since I just declared this month Manhunt March (see post below), I will respond. The problem is, I have to text back because I don't remember his first name (it's written on a piece of paper in my office) since I can't really call him and say, "Hey, you. It's Always a Bridesmaid."

I swear, only me. Ugh.

March Madness

I serve on a couple of nonprofit boards in my non-blogging life, one of which I currently serve as membership director for. Our membership drive was incredibly successful this year, thanks to some inventive membership drive ideas. We've already doubled our new member goals, and the program year isn't even over yet!

So why am I telling you this? I've decided I should transfer those abilities to my dating life. Enter Manhunt March. And, like any successful membership drive, there's strength in numbers. I need your recruiting help!

Just like my nonprofit membership drive, Manhunt March will work something like this:

• Identify possible candidates (duh)


• Ask if they're members yet (in this case, we'll need to find out if they're members of the "married club" yet)


• Sell them on the benefits of joining (tell them you have a funny, cute, smart girl to fix them up with)


• Have them fill out a membership application (get his number and email)


• Forward his application to me (and wait with bated breath for that finders' fee!)

Simple as that, right?

The other key to a successful membership drive, of course, is to define parameters for timing (in this case, we're talking all of March) and to incentivize recruiters in some way (enter the finders' fee).

If I can blow my numbers out of the water for my nonprofit's membership drive, I'm thinking Manhunt March might just yield a lot of new potential boys.

And probably at least a couple of juicy blog stories.

Now go get out and recruit! And once you find a potential new member, email me. Happy hunting!! ;)