My Australian, the Gentleman.

We never see eachother... Maybe if we lived closer....

 Maybe if I had another job...

I like you...

I like you...

I can't invest anymore emotionally in something that just isn't working.

I came over early so you wouldn't be all dressed and ready and then...

He left with a kiss, and a goodbye.
So the Aussie and I are no longer seeing one another.
It was actually a very sweet break up, initiated by him but something I had been struggling with as well.
I have since collected my thoughts, & myself, after a good cry, many calls to my friends, half a bottle of red wine & a slice of cheesecake. I woke up Thursday thankful - to have met him, spent time with him and moved on. Its funny how you meet people in life - however briefly - that open your eyes to certain aspects of yourself and your life that you, yourself, are overlooking.

Imagine he has an accent.

My Australian showed me what a true gentleman is. He reinforced to me that I am deserving of a kind, chivalrous, intelligent (handsome!) man. He made me feel beautiful, he made me feel comfortable. He was honest with me, he respected me. He made me feel like the only person in the room. And, no, it did not 'work out' with him, whether it was because of time or distance or his own struggles with the return of Saturn, but he pushed me to better myself, educate myself, to read more.

And I deserve that kind of man. A Gentleman. We all deserve this - although we sometimes forget it, or we get too caught up in our own perceived faults to believe it.
My Australian also taught me that I probably don't have it in me to fall for a wanderlust. As I put it in my newly purchased Match.com profile (done in reaction to the last minute weekend trip my Australian took solo to hike the Grand Canyon a week ago - yes, you read that right): I need someone who can balance the road less traveled with the beaten path. Ah, the things that we are taught by this strange world of dating.
But you know what else? I should have called him more. I shouldn't have worried so much about whether or not I was just a girl the pass the time with. I shouldn't have worried so much in general. Either way, it still wouldn't have worked, but going forward I'm going to try to relax a little, not repeat the same mistakes.
Even while I was worrying and over thinking and not calling, I had continued to repeat to myself:

I was happy before.
I am happy now.
And it doesn't work out, I'll be happy again.
I was right, I am happy now. And better for it.

And so my last words to the Australian
(sent via text about a half hour after our goodbye):

Thank you for being such a gentleman, Mr. Scott.

And his quick response:

Ah, Ms. K' It makes me sad to think of not seeing you. I'll call you in august to see how clown college is going.

I then deleted our (fantastic) text thread, along with his contact information. I won't hold my breath on the call, but you know what? The clown college remark, that was his last little push. I'm keeping it's meaning for myself, for now, but its just another reason I am grateful to have met him.

And now, moving on... Moving forward.

The Story of Goldilocks.



Pretend that's hummus there on the table.

Wine & Hummus nights are a common occurance with me and my girlfriends -- many of our most hilarious conversations, ideas, shared secrets & inside jokes have come from sitting in our apartments together with a tub of hummus and a couple bottles of cheap red wine. On one of these nights, not long after I decided to sign up for the online dating website, I convinced my closest friend, lets call her 'Goldilocks' (as she has both depth in her highlights & even more so in her personality) to do the same. It took quite a bit of wine, a panic attack (and about a week,) but she finally agreed. Mind you, she wasn't on the hunt for a boyfriend, nor did she have much experience in 'grown up' dating. She was quite concerned with what to do when the check came*,

But, I'm just not comfortable not offering anything!

Goldi, just smile and say 'thank you for dinner'. Or excuse yourself to the bathroom. But always say thank you.

* My girlfriends have often commented on my ability to not even lean towards the bill. Sorry, guys, I have had too many boyfriends who I have literally supported at times. If my date bothered by this, he's not the guy for me. But I always say thank you.

So off Goldilocks and I skipped into the 'Dating World'.

So after a particularily bad cocktail date last night, she called me to come pick her up even though she was only 3 blocks from her house.

It's okay, I have hummus. And wine.

Girl, thank god. Let's go.

We went back to my house. Our post date hummus and red wine session eventually led to this breakdown of her experiences with online dating:

The Lawyer:  First date off the site. The second she met him, she thought Wow. This is gonna go well. Two hours in, they finally looked at the menu.

(She is using superstitious numerology to justify sleeping with him as we speak... Their date is on the 13th of month and it's their 7th date. Something about the Lucky 7 cancelling out the 13. All justifying aside, she just wants to sleep with him.)

 The Model Ex Druggie: Within moments of sitting down knew there was no connection. The conversation followed that included things you would never tell someone that you were trying to impress. He did pay for dinner, but he was a sober manorexic, so... he was a cheap date.

The Platonic "Wish We Could Be Friends" Guy: Really liked him, and went on two dates with him. (I accompanied her on the second, and I had a blast too.) No 'spark'- he did not take this well: immediately 'unfriended' her on facebook. She thinks about their undone friendship frequently.

The Cheap Jock: Made her pay for parking and beer. Nothing to talk about. Actually called for a second date; she did not return the call.

....and tonight's winner: 

The Adonis Liar ("Chip"): Knew within two minutes of sitting down: full of shit. Spent the whole date calling him out on inconsistencies in his stories and thinking about The Lawyer.

So after much red wine, & two containers of hummus, we have come up with our 'grown up' version of the classic tale of Goldilocks:

• The Adonis Liar - too hot.
• The Cheap Jock - too cold.
• The Platonic "Wish We Could Be Friends" - too soft.
• The Ex- Model Druggie - too hard.
• and... finally, The Lawyer - juuuuuuust right.

They're going out tonight.
So are the Australian and I.

A Juxtoposition of Neutrals.

A (contrasting) collection of neutral pallettes that make me excited for Summer. White on white, cream on cream --- I love the femininity of it all.
(Stolen from thesartorialist.com.)

My mother always wondered how she managed to have a "beige daughter"... if you knew my mother, you'd understand her confusion.

My Musings, Inspirations... and on this gloomy Sunday, My Fears.

I just keep telling myself:

I was happy before.
I am happy now.
I will be happy if it doesn't work out.

Little insecure stream of consciousness... (Ha, not like anyone is really reading this anyway.)

I find myself feeling a bit like I am in limbo: Seven dates with the Australian, in a month and a half, and the looming possibility (fear is perhaps a better word) that I am basically company only to be kept while he's working in my town hover over me. I don't want to date anyone else, I don't want him to either - yet I don't want all my eggs in one basket.

Last night was our 7th date. I finally felt like I let my guard down, let him in. I was candid, didn't chose my words as carefully as before - I made fun of his arm hair. Told him about my grey hair. He looked at my high school yearbook. I told him about my past relationships and he told me about his. We finally talked about the struggles that come along with finding yourself in your midtwenties. (These were years that in past dates, we have both avoided.)

I took him to my coffee shop in the morning. With no makeup on.Where they know me by name. I let him see me in sweatpants. He noted that even my sweatpants were cool & different. (If you know me, you know that this is a paramount observation.)

And now, I feel both exposed and sort of secure. Which is unsettling. Now I am overthinking my choice of words. Overthinking my answers to questions he asked. Wondering what I babbled in my sleep this time.

He clarified last night, that in my sleep the first time I said very "kind things about the way I feel about him." I responded with "I don't really want to know, do I?" To which we both changed the subject.

Argh. How do I fight the nagging insecurities... when I am with him, looking into his eyes, speaking to him, holding his hand (as we do almost the entire time we are together, if not entirely intertwined at the table, on the street, in the market, even standing in my living room, we are almost always touching) thinking that this man likes me... this man wants to hold me... this man wants to know me... as soon as he is gone, I am thinking, was that all me? Was I the one reaching for his hand? Touching his back? Embracing him? The answers I gave to his questions were honest, but were they the answers that in the long run he is looking for?

Some of the answers to my questions, especially the ones he knows I won't like the answer to, he just doesn't respond to. Deflecting these questions, or subtley changing the topic is something I have noticed he does often. I have done the same on past dates with him, avoiding the whole past relationships subject, so it was nice to kind of call him out on that last night. I do think it allowed us to speak a bit more openly. But then that's scary too.

Only time will tell, I guess.

I will also note, that in the morning, when I threw on cargos, a v-neck, hoodie & flip flops (which essentially he had been begging for) with no make up on, he did say "I quite like you dressed like this..."

Introduction: Breathe (2AM)

2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them, however you want to.

Okay, so its only 10:45 PM and I am not Anna Nalick.
But this is my experiment. My song.
I know my experience is parallel to many. Believe me, I do.
But I have a 'Big Sister Complex' of sorts, and compulsively feel the need to share.

I had a lot I wanted to accomplish tonight. I actually constructed this blog and didn't just cruise Facebook and okCupid all night. I haven't started reading my book (Water for Elephants), nor did I do my toenails, but this was at the top of my list, so Hurrah!  Also - I should probably do my taxes.

So here goes my experiment: This is where Style & Saturn Return meet.
I am constantly inspired and growing and have a long commute home from the shop - lots of time to think.

Sidenote: I only recently learned how to be an adult by my own accord. I'm 29. (Well, I am still learning but doing a fine job of applying what I've learned.) I am single for the first time in my life. I run a beautiful boutique and I am dating. I am online dating.

So here we go. Here we go.