Jane Wonder has outgrown her free hosting and moved! From now on, please point all bookmarks, links, and anything else to me at:

http://www.onedatewonderland.com

All new updates, including the rest of my Vegas stories, can be found in the new place. See you there!

When Wednesday finally came around, QTMama and I were going nuts. We texted all morning. We were positively giddy. So imagine how I felt when my flight was delayed. Then she started texting me to say how great her vacation was starting off and I got a little bummed. I promptly felt guilty because her flight got delayed too and both of us ended up getting to Vegas fabulously late. But we got there!

We promptly headed off to meet up with her Irishman and then out for late night/early morning booze. Yep, we started off in true Vegas style and we just never looked back.

I think Thursday was my favorite day. After not nearly enough sleep we grabbed a quick breakfast and met up with The Set Up. Seemed well enough, so we headed off for a day of fun in the sun at the hotel pool. (Because really, what better way to judge a set up then to immediately throw on bathing suits and expose all our worst figure flaws? Right.) Whatever, there was lots of fun and lots of beer. I was a wee bit tipsy as we headed up to the rooms to get ready.

Now, a quick word about the room. The Set Up was staying at the hotel that night and we had arranged to have two beds in my room so he could crash out on one. Alas, this did not go so well as the room contained only one giant king bed. After a minimum of cursing, we decided we could just lump it and never look back. After all, this is Vegas baby!

Anyway, a few shower negotiations later and we were ready to head out the door. Please note, there was no nap involved. So QTMama and I were now heading out for a night in Vegas after 3 hours of sleep and all day at a pool. I am convinced at this point that my blood had turned to pure booze and that’s the only reason I was still moving.

We hit the strip and got our groove on. Or whatever. There was dancing and booze, ok? And it was good. But after about 3 AM we decided it was time for a little old style Vegas and we headed over to Fremont St. to experience true Vegas style. To be honest, I’m not sure where we started off. I just remember lots of booze. And suddenly The Set Up came up with a grand idea. I had expressed an innate fear of table games. So 4 AM or so seemed a grand time to break me in, and we went in search of a dollar BlackJack table. Everyone assured me it would be totally non-threatening but I had my doubts.

In the end we managed to find a $5 BlackJack table and that was good enough for me. The four of use sat down and had the whole table to ourselves. As we started playing, the Irishman declared that getting blackjack equals kisses and proceeded to plant a huge one on QTMama as she won that round. The Set Up and I kind of looked around absently pretending not to notice. That is, right up until the Irishman leaned over and asked me… “If The Set Up gets blackjack, does he get kisses too?” There was a moment of silence and The Set Up looked at me expectantly. You see that clearly there was only one answer to this question. “Ummmm…. sure!” Of course, next hand I got blackjack. The dealer was highly amused at this point, as were QTMama and the Irishman. I think The Set Up had been waiting for some kind of opening all night and this was clearly it. While everyone watched he planted one on me. I got all flustered and red and probably giggled stupidly while everyone laughed at me.

Now, I think that man knew how to rig a table. Or something. Because after that he started cleaning up and much blackjack was had. And as we had just established, blackjack equals kisses so there were a whole lot of those too. The dealer spent a great deal of time laughing at us. In fact she wasn’t sure if we were playing for chips or kisses anymore as kisses seemed to get more cheers. And folks, there were a lot of kisses.

Alas, blackjack could not last forever. Eventually, all kisses aside, we all went belly up. So we collected our booze and headed off for the next adventure. Which I will tell you about in my next entry.

I’m home and exhausted. But I wanted to at least say that I had an amazing time. QTMama and I had a total blast and I’ll tell you all about it soon. Just as soon as I get some more sleep, that is.

So I went away for an overnight with Mr. Big. He had to travel for the week for work and the location was relatively close. We knew we wouldn’t be seeing each other for a while so on an impulse, he asked if maybe I would come up to see him. At first I laughed it off. Actually, I told him that was too far to drive just to get laid. But then he said it wasn’t just about that… we could hang out, go out to dinner, and stay the night together. That was what sealed the deal. The overnight. You know what a sucker I am.

So I drove away to meet him on Sunday night and spent the night in a hotel with him. I know he was there for work. I know it wasn’t a fun trip. But for just a brief time, I felt important to him. It made me hope. And hope, as we all know, is the devil.

We had one last dinner before I headed home yesterday and while we were sitting in a booth in a nice civilized restaurant, we had the most serious conversation we’ve ever had face to face. Mr. Big told me he never wanted to get married. Ever. Because there was no benefit for him. That was bad dear friends, let me tell you. But then it got worse. Then he kept saying that “if” he met the right woman… or “someday” when he meets someone he’d consider settling down with… and it didn’t matter what came after that. It just didn’t matter. Because all I heard was that it wasn’t me. It would never be me. He already knew I wasn’t the one. I was written off, written out, and done. There was no hope.

I nearly burst into tears in the restaurant right then and there. I tried looking away, staring at the ceiling, concentrating on my silverware… but nothing helped. I could feel the lump rising up in my throat. And with each statement about what might happen if he ever meets the right gal, my throat tightened up a bit more. Mr. Big thought it was all about the marriage thing. But I couldn’t even comprehend that anymore. All I could hear is that I would never be the one.

I finally had to stop him. I looked him in the eye, and I know he saw all the tears I was refusing to shed. And I told him that is we didn’t change the subject immediately I was going to have a very female moment in the middle of our dinner. He blinked, and promptly changed the subject. I blinked and stopped threatening to cry. We moved on.

The drive home was bad. It was awful on top of horrible actually. For the first several miles I cried over what had been said. I wept hot tears because the maybe I’d been holding on to was nothing after all. I tried to steady my breathing as Mr. Big let me follow him to the freeway to get me back safely. I tried to hold on. I started sobbing as soon as he turned back to the hotel.

A few miles later I got it under control. Then I looked at the road. This was the same road that I drove back in college when I was going home after visiting the man who would be my first husband. It was the same road I had cried down so many times as we we were separated by circumstance. It was the same road that had put distance between us and broken my heart so many years ago. The exit names were all places I had known. Some of them were places I had lived.

So I cried again. I cried for what my life is and I cried for what it will never be. I cried for all of the dreams that I’ve lost over the years. I mourned the life I always dreamed of. I cried over what I have instead. I sobbed and wept. And my heart broke again driving down that road, just like it did all those years ago.

Later that night Mr. Big texted to make sure I got home okay, and to ask about that conversation. To see if I was alright. To acknowledge that I hadn’t taken it well. And so I explained. I explained that while the theory on marriage rubbed me wrong, hearing him tell me that it would never be me. Not ever. That was what did it. We stumbled around awkwardly in the conversation for a while. He didn’t understand what I needed. And for once, I found myself incapable of explaining. Words failed me. But I just needed… I needed so badly. I was so tired, and it was so late. And all I wanted was to have part of that aching need fulfilled. Something to hold on to. Some reason to believe it wasn’t all the mess it seemed to be. So I asked. I asked if he thought we might ever be more than we are now.

He said yes.

So we have covered that QTMama and I are heading off to Vegas (in TWO DAYS!!!). There will be booze, a fabulous hotel, booze, bars, booze, music, and maybe… ummmm…. booze. But I believe we failed to mention the other feature of this trip.

Now before I tell you this, you must understand that QTMama and I are planning on having a blast. In fact, Vegas may implode due to our utter fabulosity all concentrated in one tiny place. The main focus of us going together is to join forces to conquer the universe. Seriously. Oh yeah, and so she can see her IrishMan. Whatever.

But the thing we haven’t been telling you is that there’s also a set up. Oh yes, the infamous set up. The IrishMan has a single friend. QTMama is bringing a single friend. Hmmmm…. whatever might happen? A set up, that’s what.

Single people are usually firmly divided on the topic of set ups. In one camp, you have the haters. They don’t want you trying to choose a mate for them. They are not interested in your hand outs. They are frequently tricked into the set up because they are ever resistant. In the other camp, there are the set up friendly. These folks have not had much luck picking people for themselves and are grateful to hand the reigns over to someone else for a while. For the record, I fall into the friendly camp.

The theory here is simple. I have clearly done a horrible job picking men for myself. I have actually married two men who I promptly divorced. And most others I can’t even be bothered to keep around for longer than an hour or so, if that. And if, by some small miracle, I manage to keep them around? There is no worry that I will run away and marry another as all of the ones who are allowed to stay are also allergic to any level of committment. That’s a fantastically horrible track record. Add to that the fact that I am now farming the internet for men because I am entirely incapable of meeting one in day to day interactions. So what’s to lose by letting someone else pick for a while? I mean seriously, it can’t be any worse.

Back to Vegas. Booze booze booze… and The Set Up. Doesn’t that just sound like a blog post waiting to happen?

Here’s one for the DON’T list. Imagine seeing a profile on an online dating site. And imagine you thought you might like to meet that person. Then imagine sending the following email.

Can you take me to the bakery? Because, I want a Cutie pie like you!

You can’t imagine it can you? Why? Because it’s stupid. And it won’t get you a date. It will only get you deleted.

PS – Lack of greeting or signature and random capitalization only add to the lack of charm.

Yesterday I got this comment. With the author’s permission, I’m republishing it and serving up my first chunk of advice! Feel free to email or leave other questions in comments. It can be like “Dear Jane”…. sarcastic advice to live by!

“..I have been dating a guy for almost a month (About 6 dates in total) but I still have no idea how he feels, I have been trying to play it real cool by not calling too much, reacting to his actions instead of being on the offensive(not sure if this is a good thing) but I still am at a loss. We have never had a convo about us and I am not sure if I want to yet…is it too soon?…“

Here’s the deal. After 6 dates or roughly a month, neither one of you may know exactly what you feel. I mean, you may, but you also may not. It’s still super early. So I’d not stress over that particular bit right now.

It sounds like you’re also struggling over the direction you two are going though, and that is an acceptable conversation to have now. If you feel like you don’t want to see other people, for example. That’s a legitimate thing to express. You can broach the subject by asking him a question like “Are you dating anyone else?” or something. BUT! One thing you need to understand is that if you ask this type of question, you may NOT get angry when you get an honest answer. If he tells you he’s dating 20 other women, don’t get psycho-pants on him. Just tell him whether or not you’re comfortable with that at this stage and express what you’d like.

The other issue I see here is the communication thing. I do not condone the reaction-only type of communication beyond initial encounters. It’s one thing to let a guy pursue you, but it’s another if after 6 dates, you’re only speaking when spoken to. If you are interested in this guy, it’s okay to pick up the phone first once in a while. If you don’t, you run the risk of sending the message that you’re not interested. And if you’ve been doing this for a while, he may already be unsure. For the record, note that this can feed into a reluctance to discuss where the two of you may be headed. If he isn’t sure if you’re into him, then he may not be sure if he should be into you.

Bottom line? Call once in a while. And try to see where he is heading with this by asking non-threatening questions. Do not, under any circumstances, tell him you need to talk or make it seem like a big relationship discussion. Casual is the rule here. Be casual.

And let me know how it goes.

So I finally got tired of this weird little two step PP and I have been doing. We are talking every couple of days and every time it’s the same thing. Maybe we can do something together soon. Maybe we’ll have free time at the same time. Maybe maybe maybe. This guy really is the Prince of Possible. Poor dude doesn’t know that will someday make him the King of Absolutely Nothing.

So I lost my temper a little and wrote him an email. It was polite, but clearly said that I actually had no idea what he wanted or where he was going with this since we only ever went on one tiny date. And I asked him point blank if he was just trying to be friends or wanted to try dating or what. Because when I lose patience I get direct. It usually gets me an answer… although whether I like it or not is another story.

He did answer, in the same day even. He wants to keep talking and try dating and see where it goes. He knows he’s been a pain. He’s sorry. Blahblahblah. Then he went on to call me that night to reinforce his position. What he doesn’t know is that it was sadly ineffective as still no date was planned.

So here’s the bottom line. It’s fun talking to him and all, but I am not investing any energy or effort into this whatever the hell it is. Or isn’t. Because he’s not worth it at this stage. If he wants more from me, he’ll have to give me more first. Until then, I’ll talk if he calls.

I am possibly a bitch. But whatever.

Here’s a hint. If you are closer in age to my father than you are to me? I’m not going to date you.

My stated age range on match.com is 27-40. If you are 53? You are well outside that range. Sending me a wink won’t change my mind. Seriously.

Get a clue.

I have now spoken to PP several times this week. It is clear that he’s interested. He is not hiding that. But he is in a very busy period at work so he has zero free time. Literally. Zero. The boy actually worked until 1 AM one day this week and went back to the job 8 hours later.

Now I have a few hard and fast dating beliefs. And one of the big ones is that the job comes first. It’s nice to email or text or whatever throughout the day (if you’re into that sort of thing of course) but if a guy suddenly falls silent? I don’t cry over it. Job comes first. I don’t call boys at work. I I just don’t mess with anyone’s livelihood. That’s my bottom line.

I will not break those rules. But dammit, this is inconvenient. I am trying to determine if there will ever be anything to this, and I can’t see him! And the two hour long phone conversation we had this week was nice…. don’t misunderstand. But it doesn’t help like spending face time would.

So as nice as he is and as much as it’s not his fault, I’m afraid my disinterest is growing. I actually feel guilty about it as I know he isn’t doing this on purpose. But it’s happening nonetheless and there seems to be nothing either one of us can do.

The tale of PP may be coming to a close if something doesn’t give soon.