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Click to read the newest column of “The Dating Years.”

Sundance, blah, blah blah… By now, I’m sure most local residents are exhausted of hearing about this year’s Sundance Film Festival. First, it takes over our local news and radio and now, sadly, my column. Too damn bad. I’m writing about it anyway.

I’m an avid film buff and have been attending the festival for years. Every year there seems to be an underlying theme to the festival. This year, in my opinion, the theme is relationships past. This theme was pervasive in a screening I attended, A Complete History of my Sexual Failures. Maybe the theme could also be found in another film I attended, Megane. However, I wouldn’t know since it was in Japanese and the man in front of me had such big hair I couldn’t see the subtitles very well. Out of complete boredom I created my own story line, one that didn’t exactly fit under my proposed Sundance theme.

A Complete History of my Sexual Failures chronicles one man’s journey to interview all the women who have dumped him over the years and through the cathartic process receive some sort of closure. This was done in hopes of curing his erectile dysfunction. Yes, erectile dysfunction. I’ve always hoped this wouldn’t pop up into one of my columns, but here it is. At least it has nothing to do with me!

The movie is British and by default brilliant. The man in the film, Chris Waitt, not only found the closure he and his penis so desperately needed, but somehow managed to gain a girlfriend in the process. The girlfriend attended the screening with him and took part in the Question and Answer period following the film. I had to admire a woman who didn’t seem to mind her boyfriend sharing the intimidate details of his sex life with the world, but at the same time was thrilled not to be in her position. Of course the fact Waitt doesn’t brush his hair throughout the entire movie didn’t exactly make him prime datable material for me.

There seems to be a lot of past relationships and self-analysis going on lately–first High Fidelity, then Scott Baio is 45 and Single, and now this movie. I find the idea intriguing. Luckily I don’t have to go off in search of all the men I used to date; three of them happen to be attending movies with me this year. In all fairness I guess only two were real relationships. The other was just a guy who offered a pretty mouth to stick my tongue in.

Okay so the easy part of this catharsis is done: finding my exes. Now what? Do I ask them where I went wrong? Do I ask them to list some of my fault in hope or correcting them? Or do I just ask why the hell our relationship didn’t work out? As I sat and pondered this, I wondered if perhaps asking all these questions would cause more damage than actual help. After all, I’ve been fortunate enough to remain friends with these men. Do I really want to discuss our history and risk the offhand that talking about the past will bring negative emotions to the surface? I’ve worked really hard to make these friendships work, the last thing I need to do is sabotage them because of some silly thought brought up by a Sundance movie.

Besides, do I really want to know what’s wrong with me? Logically at that point I probably should do something about it. And frankly therapy really isn’t in my budget right now. Maybe next year…

I’ve always been one to take things slow. Case in point, I’m 32 and still in college. I like to space things out in my life. This includes dating– especially online dating.

On average, when meeting men online I like to exchange email for a couple of weeks before meeting them face-to-face. A few friends have pointed out how much time and emotion I waste doing this. Therefore, I decided the next time a man suggested we meet right away, I would agree.

After only one day of emailing a particular man we agreed to meet for coffee. He filled the prerequisites of having a job and hair, so I figured he couldn’t be all that bad.

Five minutes into the casual ‘date’ I was contemplating sending out an SOS text to all my friends begging them for an emergency call. Though, out of guilt, I didn’t. Sitting on a hard wooden seat, I tried to carry on a conversation with this man whom I knew I could never date. Sometimes you just know. Sure, we had quite a few things in common, but in person he just irritated me. It was all rather disappointing.

I sat there being interrogated by this man and found myself not wanting to share any personal information. That’s never a good sign. I answered all his questions as ambiguously as I could. This wasn’t good enough for him and he continued trying to needle more information out of me. (Note to all men: if the woman you are with doesn’t want to answer your questions, take the hint and STOP ASKING HER!)

Still looking for an out, I saw a friend of a friend walk by and waved at him. To the untrained observer it looked like the typical “hey, what’s up” wave, but really it was a plea to be saved. If only he could have thrown me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and run like hell.

In all fairness, my date seemed like a nice enough man: well-educated, handsome, and amazing eyes. Without a doubt, he’s man worthy of meeting the parents. Of course you’d have to drive separately to avoid listening to him laugh at everything that comes out of his mouth.

Forty-five of the longest minutes of my life passed and we finally parted ways. I walked out knowing I never wanted to see this man again, let alone date him. I’m nearly positive he felt the same way. I’m sure I came across seeming cold and uninterested. I felt like a failure for wasting his time and mine and promised myself next time to have a phone conversation before meeting. He had, in fact, suggested this, but I’m not really a phone person so I opted to just meet first. I have no one but myself to blame.

If dating makes me want to be a teenage girl and cut myself in the bathroom to numb the emotional pain, perhaps it’s time to take a break for a while. I’d consider taking time off, but I have another coffee date in an hour. Here’s to hoping this one is better!

To read this week’s column go here!

To read my lazy version of a holiday greeting card go here. And here’s proof of the mentioned “haircut.”

To read this week’s column go here!