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The Floodgates Open

Sunday August 7 2011
Breakfast – salmon filet, turnip greens
Lunch – two rotisserie chicken legs, turnip greens
Dinner – Jimmy John’s Turkey Guacamole Un-wich (lettuce wrap)

Monday August 8 2011
Breakfast – 6 egg omelet, salsa, turnip greens
Lunch – Moe’s chicken fajita with guacamole
Dinner – rotisserie chicken wings in green curry dipping sauce, turnip greens, a glass of red wine

Call me re-committed. After my week of self-loathing and messy messiness, I’ve been full of energy in every respect. Re-motivated to work out, to cook some new funky recipes, to be shiny and happy and positive about myself, and to go out and meet new people. I’m not going to try and impress women or entertain them or tell them what I think they feel like hearing. I’m just going to be relentlessly pro-Sri and see what comes of it.

My fitness plan for the week: I’m torn. Eat super-low-carb and work out once? Blast through 3-4 fasted met-cons or sprints and stuff myself with sweet potatoes? Not sure which direction I’m going in… right now I’m slugging around at 165lb and looking about the same as I did a month ago, but I’ve got some serious motivation to right the sails this month and get a little more ripped. To wit:

I don’t know what sort of electrical disturbance was in the air Sunday, but last night I was hit with a welcome DELUGE of match.com e-mails. I literally got a dozen of them in about 6 hours, after a week-and-change of nothing. I have more potential dates than I have free nights (this week, at least), and who knows, some of them may turn out not to suck. The prospects, in order of excitement:

The Violinist – The one I’m most excited about, and the one who I’ll have to wait for a date with. Redhead, petite, plays in a symphony orchestra. What’s not to love? For starters, she’s on the west coast for the next few weeks. But I’m a *very good* e-mailer. In fact, I’ve learned that I’m downright charming when I have 24 hours to formulate an answer to a question, instead of 5-10 seconds.

The Killer – She works at the main adult hospital, and we met at a bar a month ago through a mutual friend,  who later *implored* me to check out her profile and e-mail her. “She’s *so* your type. Small, wiry, muscular, cynical as hell. She’s very Northeast elitist intellectual.” In fact, when I asked her what she did for a living, she deadpanned, “I give old people morphine and then they die.” So we may grab a glass of wine later this week and people-watch and exchange sarcastic comments like that scene from “Manhattan” (parodied on “Family Guy” by Stewie and Olivia.) Dammit, can’t find a Youtube clip. You know the scene, the one where they’re on a park bench and making fun of random people? Dammit, I wish I had that clip.

The Tennis Nerd – She was an elite-level athlete in high school, but was also a theatre geek who directed her own short films. She and I connected over her obsession with P90X, and my two-year love affair with CrossFit. Very young (23), but very smart and unabashedly nerdy. She’s also planning to go into med school when she’s done with her Master’s in biology, so that’s something else we can ramble about when we meet up for a drink tonight…

The Hot Mess – Probably the most excited about meeting me, at least from her e-mails. She seems a bit cougar-ish (36, so not much older than me, I guess…), blonde, in shape, very quirky. She’s read James Joyce’s Ulysses cover-to-cover. Instant turn-on.

Of course, I will let you know in rapid succession how each of these dates go, as they happen, with the approrpiate snarky comments and foreshadowing of imminent disaster that I do oh-so-well. I ought to frame this as a learning experience, a series of lessons that I can use for the rest of the year, to make my future dates and fix-ups go even better. I’ve already caught on to a few lessons from my pre-mini-breakdown week:

1) Don’t be an entertainer! Don’t oversell yourself to the point that you’re a trained monkey, jumping around for people’s amusement. Be calm. Act like a quietly-passionate man would.

2) Don’t give away too much. Did Kosher BBQ teach you nothing? You have *so* many interesting layers to you. Make her ask the right questions. And in that same vein…

3) Let *her* game *you*. If she’s into me, give her the subtle hint that she’s going to have to work for it. Know in your heart that you’re awesome enough that she ain’t gonna walk away. *That’s* effing confidence.

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