I would be remiss if I did not tell you; I am still holding the you-know-what card.



I've never held it for this long.



He asks for it a little more each time, and you know what? Soon he's going to be begging!



And when he does, when he's so overcome with desire that he gets on his knees and says "What will it take? What do I need to do to? Tell me! PLEASE!!"



I'll say, "Honey, it's simple. We're talking 20 karats, a mere $6000, and the rest of your life."



Or maybe I'll just say, "OK, buddy boy, I'll have s*x with you once you're willing to make a plan with me more than five minutes in advance."



Whatever I ask him, it's going to be a very small price to pay for what he gets.

OK, was I high on something last week or what?



As my wise friend AB pointed out, I am binge dating again, and it's just not healthy!



I went on three freakin' dates last week, and I'm telling you, people, I just don't have time for that nonsense. I have serious work to do before I can become a bestselling novelist/rock star and these alcohol-laden, late-night dates are getting in the way.



But really, it's all because I like The Cap'n so much and though things seem to be progressing well, I'm trying to protect myself from getting hurt. In other words, I'm engaged in some serious DefensiveDating(tm) right now.



Though I may get temporarily high on the bright lights, and the glamor, and the (fleeting) power I seem to hold over men, I'm tired of it all. Just plain old tired.



So what I want to know is this: when do I get to let my defenses down?

Delving into the archives, I see that approximately two months ago I was in a dating slump. Whining about it too.



Well! I have come out of the slump swinging!



It's like the early days of the tech boom. Back then, I could fire my resume off, and within hours - minutes! - some dot com manager would be on the phone begging me to edit Web copy at some ridiculously high rate (three free catered meals a day and alcohol-soaked parties included!)



These days, my phone number seems to have the same effect. Why, just this weekend, up at my little ski retreat, with the Cap'n safely back in Seattle, I ran into a handsome, dark-haired, ski stud (yes,another one!) who looked awfully familiar (no it wasn't the Jewish Ski God!)



After chatting for a bit, we figured it out. He used to date the woman who lived right across the hall from me. For a year I saw the two of them parading in out and out together, late at night, early in the morning, as pretty a couple as you could ever hope to be. And I always felt a pang of loss for the companionship I once had, while also thinking Damn that boy is cute.



"Well," I say, when we realized who the other was, "She just bought a house right? Do you live there together?"



"No," he says shaking is head, his brown eyes filled with regret. "We broke up in May."



HELLO!



"Oh really," I say, shaking my own head in sympathy. "That's too bad." NOT.



So, having nothing to lose, and expecting nothing in return, I instruct the owner of the lodge, by now a friend of mine after so many years, to hand him my card after I leave.



And voila - like magic - two days later he calls! I've not spoken to him yet, but the funny, articulate message he left makes me think he could actually be a threat to the Cap. Then again, the Jewish Ski God faded in and out like a hologram,so you never know.



But I'm on a roll, no doubt about it. Whoohoo!

All right, all right, sorry for that delay. I've been gallavanting about in the mountains, and trying to charm the pants off The Captain.



Wait a minute. That didn't come out right.



Getting him to take his pants off is not the problem. I mean, is it a problem for ANY guy? Have you noticed that they just love to walk around with their pants off, preferably with some tacky t-shirt on top, sack o' goodies waving freely in the wind?



But I digress. No matter what you think, I am not obsessed with the male anatomy just because I have not HAD SEX IN ---



Never mind. It's not because The Cap'n hasn't tried. He's trying all right. But here's my plan - and tell me what you think - next time he asks if he can f*ck me, I'll say - "Sure -- once I see that ENGAGEMENT RING!!"



I don't see how this plan can fail, do you?



There is the slight issue of his committmentphobia, and the fact that he's - oh - never had a girlfriend, much less a fiancee, but my new M.O. is to be postive! Optimistic!



Plus, we had a fabulous 28-hour date this past weekend, during which The Cap could not seem to get enough of my charming company. And lest you think it is all about how he feels about me - I like the Cap because he is smart, funny, sarcastic as hell, and sweetly loving under that cynical exterior. Plus he likes to talk about books and travel around the world.



Now, the Jewish Ski God was hot - dark-haired, smoldering - in a way that appealed to me instinctively. My attraction to him was tres physical.



The Cap'n, with his rangy build and fair hair is not so much my type. Physically. But intellectually? It's the Cap'n who turns me on. And besides, he's one hell of a sexy salsa dancer.



So. The JSG is out. In my old age, I have learned (the hard way) that physical attraction does not a relationship make. Besides, Galpal #1 has ordered me to let him go because she finds his e-mails (which I forward to her on a regular basis) insufferably boring. To quote:



"If you don't dump him I'm likely to whack him over your sink someday so you're really doing us all a favor by ending this now."



So what choice do I have? It's a good thing he doesn't live here because just looking at him made me melt into a puddle on the floor.



Meanwhile, per my agreement with The Cap'n, I'm keeping my dating options open. Why, I have a date with a hot architect in San Francisco when I go down for my mother's birthday next month! Oh, and a date with a l'il hipster musician/rich computer programmer boy tomorrow.



But here it is - I'm holding out hope for me and the Cap. He's got issues, that's for sure. But I've said it before and I'll say it again: I have a good feeling about this one.



And you can quote me on that.

After a pleasant evening spent conversing with my insightful friend Guypal #1, I have come to see an essential truth about my dating behavior that I did not see before:



I am effed up.



I can attract men but not keep them. At least not the ones I want.



I go into every dating situation assuming it's not going to work out, assuming the guy is a jerk, assuming they won't want me.



So is it such a surprise that that usually happens? Someone famous said something smart like "Attitude determines outcome." Well if that's true no wonder I usually end up crying in my beer.



Here's what I want. I want to be in control without being detached. I want to be assertive without being pushy. I don't want to have a nervous breakdown because some guy hasn't sent me an e-mail in the last two hours. I don't want to freak out because things aren't going exactly how I think they should go.



I want to have patience.



I want to go into each situation knowing - and remembering this - I am very worthy of someone's love. And sometimes, I don't know why, I forget this very simple fact.

Egads, how did I go from being a nun to dating two people at once? It's so last year of me!



And why am I suddenly so paranoid that one or both of them is going to find this thing and dump me flat on my a*s?

All right, I'm sorry to say, but the Jewish Ski God was not cute.



No. He was hot. Infernally hot.



Damn it.



This is not good news for yours truly.



Yours truly does not need to be in lust with a gorgeous Jewish lawyer/outdoor God who currently lives in Salem, Oregon, and in two months is about to return to his hometown of Lake Tahoe. Nevermind that yours truly would probably move to Tahoe in a shot if she found the right guy (and he DID ask if I'd consider moving there).



I mean, I love Seattle and all my friends here, but we're talking biological destiny. It is TIME for me and my darling unborn children to get a move on here. Chop chop!



Besides, I would never move to some random place without the caveat that my beloved husband would consider, at some point, moving back to my beloved Seattle. And the JSG did say he'd consider it.



I'm too full of lust to tell though, if the JSG and I are truly compatible. He has many qualities that I've oft looked for in a man, and a few that I'm ashamed to admit I like. The ex-bad boy thing, for example. The quasi frat boy side. The ski stud persona coupled with an unrelentingly (sometimes annoyingly) intellectual brain. All this paired with a flirty, take-charge, sexy, affectionate alpha male, and oh my. You got the stuff that girly wet dreams are made of.



At least this girly's wet dreams.



That is not to say he is perfect. He takes himself a bit too seriously. He can be kinda full of himself and kind of exhausting, and ask silly questions at the end of a long, hard day, like "What is your favorite analogy for life?"



The Captain, on the other hand, with his tongue always in cheek, would never ask such a question. The Cap - who I have not forgotten, though it may seem I have - is fully sarcastic and cynical all of the time, which I have to admit, I like.



And if only the Cap had been a little less flaky about planning this weekend with me, I would never have invited the JSG up into my apartment, my city, my heart. But there you have it. The Cap is cagey. He wants to spend time with me, but on his own terms, and maybe, just maybe, I'm the same.



So with all that stake-putting-in-the-ground action between the two of us, the Cap and I could never quite agree on a plan for this weekend, and meanwhile JSG was expressing an infectious enthusiasm to come meet me, so what could I do?



And now? It's anyone's guess what will happen.



I still predict I'll die old and alone, locked up in my sister's attic with only my yellowing snapshots for companions.



But damn, at least the makeout action has been good lately!