"Boys" in the City

Jen will probably kill me for writing this. Maybe I should change her name in this entry to be completely conspicuous. That might be more obvious than not, I suppose.

I moved to Chicago with a boyfriend. Wasn't the plan... in fact, the reason Jen and I decided it was time to move was because it was the first time we were single at the same time in five years. NO DATING was our motto three months prior to our departure. One night, Jen came home from a date (totally broke the rule) and was smiling from ear to ear because she had such a fabulous time. I was like the evil head mistress of the No Dating for Jen Academy - waiting with a wooden spoon by the door for her return. She came home and was about to tell me about the date when I burst, screaming "Don't you fall in love with him because we'll never move away!" I've been known to be a little dramatic from time to time. In this instance, Jen grabbed that hypothetical wooden spoon from me and smacked me with it for having such little faith. The guy turned out to be a total jerk a week later - which I claimed I had known all along, of course.

A month later, I had a boyfriend.

Jen has been playing it cool in Chicago... not at all boy crazy and completely in control. In fact, it's just the opposite. None of these young men can seem to play it cool.

We are young, yes. Fortunately, for women, finding an older more mature man is completely socially acceptable. When we moved to Chicago, we realized that we didn't have many guy friends in Seattle under 28 years old. Now, the majority of our new posse would definitely check the 24-27 box. This is not a problem - until they want to date you.

Jen's love life has been more entertaining than any program on tv - her very own soap opera love triangle... or square... or pentagon. These boys (and yes, I mean boys) have been going crazy for our little Jen. Asking her to lunch and then planning the wedding by the afternoon. Sending secret spies on missions to catch her out with other guys and then sending "I caught you" text messages instantaneously when they'd only grabbed a coffee together during a 10 minute work break. The sweet co-worker who set Jen up on a blind date with a VERY nice guy... who was 5 feet tall. My favorite one was sending messages telling Jen how she felt about him "Jen, I know you think I'm attractive" followed by an insecure "right?". One Tuesday night, Jen came home from work to find Darren and I devouring the last of our order-in dinner. She had recieved another text - this time, from a different crazy. She had gone out with him the weekend before (yes, only three days had passed) and it hadn't gone so well. There had been no correspondance from either party after the date... which doesn't mean anything as, like I said, it was only three days post date. The text read: well, i haven't heard from you, so i guess this means we're done. i hope we can still be friends. WHAT on earth was this guy thinking?! The three of us sat on the couch and scripted a line by line dialogue between Jen and "Mr. premature-call-it-quits" outlining a few minor issues like chemistry (or the lack there of) and his actions of insecurity followed by a "we are better as friends", etc. Ready to go, she placed the call. Voicemail. What does Jen do? I'll tell you what she does NOT. She does not say "hey, call me back, we obviously have some things to talk about." Instead, she jumps right into the script! "Hey, got your text - Were you calling everything off in a text message? Yikes! I just don't think we have any chemistry and would still like to be friends. Call me when you get this and we can talk about it..." A day later, he calls. She doesn't answer. His message went a little something like this: "Hey jen, got your message, YEAH, no chemistry... right... no chemistry. I guess we just didn't have chemistry, or maybe there wasn't any chemistry. Let's be friends. Bye." I can't tell, but I don't think he liked the chemistry comment. And that, ladies and gentleman, was a break-up text, followed by a break-up voicemail and yet another chemistry-less follow-up voicemail. The stories haven't stopped, and we haven't stopped laughing.

Jen and I walked home from church yesterday. Bundled up (because it snowed), she asked me through her scarf and I turned my head to read her lips as I can't hear much through the puff of my puffy coat hood - she wondered where all the "older, mature, established Chicago men" were hiding. Frozen, I responded, "Jen, we haven't even started searching. It took us a couple of years to find a few in Seattle. Let's start the hunt...there's just got to be some out there." We walked the rest of the block in silence.

I have to say - I'm incredibly lucky. I have a fabulous, amazing boyfriend who has been nothing but supportive, encouraging and loving. They do exist - hence my decision to move to a new city with a boyfriend back in Seattle - I wasn't letting this one go! This "luck" makes "the hunt" more difficult as our standards have been significantly raised.

Jen is updating a dating checklist to simplify the qualifying process. We don't have time for these crazies. It's almost New Years and Jenny needs a prince for her midnight kiss... or a new Cole Hahn bag by Christmas.