If nothing else, online dating has allowed me to learn about myself — my attributes, my hang-ups, my desires, my real personality versus my “image” — in a sort of isolated environment. It’s been like a self-discovery class. My most recent discovery: I’m more high-maintenance than I previously thought. I always think of myself as this girl who is super laid-back, the one who has a lot of girlfriends, but can totally hang with the guys. I’ve even prided myself in the fact that I can wake up in the morning and be out the door in 20 minutes if need be. As I’m getting older and starting to take better care of myself, I’m letting some of this easy going faade go, and gladly. When I say that I’m high maintenance, I don’t mean that I want to date a man who lavishes me with expensive gifts, fancy dinners and lavish vacations — not that there’s anything wrong with wanting that — I mean that I require a lot of attention and thoughtfulness. So far I haven’t met anyone on or offline who really gets that about me. In sifting through match-after-match online, I’ve learned that creativity is of the utmost importance to me. I don’t understand then, when I choose to date a creative guy, why he doesn’t use any of that creativity to plan a date with me. WTH! I live in one of the most amazing cities in the world, yet every man in New York wants to meet up for a drink at a bar — I’ve done this too many times to count. Why not take me to your favorite spot in Prospect Park or take me to the best hole-in-the-wall to get steamed pork buns or suggest that we take a ferry ride to Governor’s Island and back? I’m game for anything, as long as it’s not the same old game plan. My resolution this week is to practice what I preach. I figure, these dudes will never know how I want to be treated unless I really show them. The next opportunity that I get to suggest a date, I’m going to flip through my brain’s catalogue of creative date ideas. Hopefully, the guy will get the hint. As for me shedding my go-with-the-flow attitude? If it means never ending up on an awkward first date, sipping a beer on a bar stool, asking some drummer from Brooklyn if he has any siblings, I’ll gladly let it go.
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