Dating in Denver.

Since officially becoming a Denver resident, and more importantly: a single female resident, I think today is the first day I need to blog about it.

I moved here with so many trepidations about dating, but even more-so, I was full of hopefulness and excitement. I know the stories... they call this city Menver. And it's true. I look around and see 217 men that I want to drag around to the bars on Colfax or go to bicycle workshops with. That's how it is here. Men are swinging from the freakin' trees.

Within the first week or two of moving here, I went on a couple dates with a great guy that I knew from high school but it never really went anywhere. I guess there's a reason why. Another blog about that quasi-disaster later. I decided the reason it didn't pan out this time around was because I'm really into my new single life, I have a long 'ol list of things to accomplish in the next year or two, and I want to explore this city when I want, and how I want, blah, blah, blah. Then I met someone else. Suddenly I was like, "Oh em gee, I like, really want to date this guy, can't wait to see him again, hope he calls me a zillion times this week, ahhh, oooh".

Then, like many before him, he fell short of my high expectations. Shit.

Truth be told, I want to be in a relationship. One that I can brag about (instead of kvetch about) to my gal pals (whenever I actually acquire any here). I want to go shopping for those bicycle accouterments and walk home from those cheaply priced cocktail bars on Colfax with my little hipster-heaven boyfriend in tow. I am not, however, a good dater. Honestly. Probably amongst the worst. I'm a hopeless hopeful. Naive. Romantic.

Gross.

Apparently there's something to be said about old-fashioned dating rules. Girls should be chased, right? Herein lies a big problem: Like many of my friends that struggle with dating, I'm a woman of the new millennium and I don't really understand old-fashioned anything. I've always worked hard for what I want and expected nothing less, and I'm a tenacious go-getter with a won't-take-no-for-an-answer attitude. So when it comes to dating, I want to call the guy if I'm interested, text him nonsense when I feel like it, and invite him to dive bars where the music is good because I'm feeling frisky. What this translates into is "I'm needy, I have no life, please give me an excuse to wake up every day, please, please, please!!!!". So... should I stab myself now, or will someone please do it for me?

New experiment goes like this: Let me be chased. God, this will be harder than trying to stick to a diet for more than three days. I'm going to attempt to treat each guy that I'm interested in how I might treat someone I'm not interested in. Ignore some phone calls. "Forget" to reply to some text messages. Be fake-busy when I really just want to ditch all my plans to make out near Vine Street Pub. We'll see how long this lasts.

Ultimately, what I really need to pound into this thick skull of mine is that I'm worth it. I'm a smart, independent, funny, attractive superfox that is worth calling a zillion times a week. That's right, SUPERFOX.