For the third year in a row, my roommate was Liz Rizzo. She’s delightful, and she doesn’t seem to mind when I stick to her side for dear life when we attend parties together. She’ll walk right up to a stranger and say hello, while I find the idea quite unappealing. Thanks to Liz, I did meet a few lovely new people along the way. Here we are on Friday morning, waiting for the welcome session to begin.

For the second year in a row, Siel (“Green L.A. Girl”) accompanied me as my guest to a Nintendo dinner. (Disclosure: I am a Nintendo Brand Enthusiast.) This year the dinner was held at the Loeb Boathouse in Central Park, and they picked us up from our hotel in pedicabs. Not only that, all of the pedicab drivers were dressed up as Mario. It was very entertaining and we got quite a few stares on our journey.

On Saturday morning, I was invited to attend the PepsiCo Sofa Summit. There were about 30 attendees, and it was described as a “provocative, interactive discussion about the ideas, influence and impact that women yield today and potential for tomorrow.” The moderator of the discussion was Campbell Brown.

There’s a 2-minute highlight/recap video on YouTube, with close-ups of me on camera at the 11-second and 53-second markers.

Saturday night, I went out with a group of ladies to dinner at Vatan (including Suzanne, who lives in the city and made the recommendation), which is an Indian vegetarian restaurant. It was incredibly good. Four of us took the subway home. The picture below is of me and Maren. (I look tired after the long day, but check out my mini-bicep as I clutch the subway pole. Yay for strength!)

I’m leaving out a lot of people I saw and things I did, but those are a few highlights. Next year the conference will be held in San Diego. I checked my Flickr account just now and realized that my first (and last) visit to San Diego was 7 years ago this month. Will I take the opportunity to go there a second time…?

I registered for the conference last year, so even though I’ve hardly blogged at all in the past six months (and to be honest, for six months previous to that I was only blogging 1-2 times a week), I never considered not attending.

I like going to BlogHer because I always leave feeling inspired. Not just inspired to write (although that’s part of it, because I’m writing right now), but because of the attendees and speakers. There are ladies out there in the world doing some really cool things, and never do I see as many of them gathered in one place as I do at the BlogHer conferences.

Women at BlogHer are speaking out, starting their own businesses, finding their dream jobs, creating and fulfilling their Life Lists, taking awe-inspiring photographs, and inspiring other people through their writing.

Some of the attendees are ordinary, and not quite as ambitious, but a number of those ordinary ladies — I include myself in that group — get a glimpse of all the stuff they could be doing and it makes us dream of doing more. (My friend Sassymonkey attended the conference as well, and she wrote a very cool post about how she wants to Do More.)

My goal has always been to inspire people through my writing. I’ve gotten away from that goal in the past year, but I feel like I might be inching my way back.

Wanting to inspire people doesn’t mean I want you to do the same things I do. Let’s face it — even though I like my life, I could be doing much cooler things than what I’m currently doing. I’m working on a Life List but I haven’t been brave enough to publish it. If it’s published, that means I’m ready for people to hold me accountable to it.

But I’ve been thinking I should get my Life List out of draft form and publish it already. I want to start working through it. I want it to inspire me. I want to be a better, smarter, more adventurous person.

Through my actions and writing I want to inspire other people, just like some of those women at BlogHer inspired me last week.

After the conference, BlogHer Community Manager Denise Tanton said that we are more powerful than we think. Here’s a snippet:

You. Are. Powerful.

But many of you don’t know it — or don’t recognize it — or don’t own your power.

I cannot count how many times I heard one of you brush off a compliment, earnestly given. I cannot tell you how many times I heard a woman, shyly and almost apologetically, talk about what she writes about. I cannot count how many times I saw talented writers uncomfortable when another woman praised her blog. I cannot count how many times I saw women uncomfortable with their own success.

At one point when I was at the conference, someone complimented me on something — I honestly don’t remember what it was, but I think it was something I was wearing — and I downplayed it. Afterward I thought to myself, “You should have just said THANK YOU.” It’s what I normally do. It’s what I strive to do. If someone gives you a compliment, take it.

However, I am guilty of not thinking that I’m powerful. Don’t get me wrong: I have pretty good self esteem and I’m proud of my independence. But would I call myself powerful? I’ve never used that word to describe myself before, but I’d really like to change that. To me, power is a feeling I’ll have within myself, not a goal to control or have influence over other people.

I want to feel comfortable saying that I’m powerful.

A few days ago, I made it official — I wrote a farewell email that was sent to all of my fellow BlogHer writers. One of the responses I received almost made me change my mind. She said: “You’re irreplaceable. There is a huge hole in the Love and Sex category and nothing will ever fill it like you did…Your posts were my favorite. When I got a divorce and started to get back in the game, it was you I looked to. I’m going to miss your voice and adventures.”

I don’t know what to say to that. I haven’t been able to write her back yet — whenever I think about doing so, I feel like I’m going to cry. It’s humbling when you realize your writing has had an impact on somebody else’s life.

But even with that knowledge, and as much as that woman’s words (and similar words from other people) mean to me, I know this is the right decision. Like other big decisions I’ve made in my life, I took some time to make sure this is what I really wanted to do and then I acted on it.

I can’t continue to write just because other people want me to. I did that for months, and it got to the point where writing wasn’t enjoyable anymore. I felt like I was searching for something…anything…to write about. I was writing because I felt like I had to — because I had a deadline and an obligation — and nobody wants that to be the reason they write.

The funny thing is, I used to enjoy sharing details about my life. For years, it was normal for me to write a post at least every few days. About a year ago something changed — I continued to write my weekly posts for BlogHer, but any other posts on my personal blog dwindled down to almost nothing. There wasn’t one overwhelming reason for that, but I have a few hypotheses.

For one thing, I feel like I’ve become more private in my slightly-older years. There have certainly been times in the past when I wanted to limit certain people from accessing my blog. (For instance, there was that time years ago when my then-boyfriend’s ex-wife was reading my blog and used certain things I said for ammunition against him.) And in the past few years that I’ve been online dating, there’s been more than one instance where a guy Googled me and found my blog before we’d even met in person. I’ve never been ashamed of my writing, but I didn’t necessarily like that a guy could know so much more about me than I knew about him. However, I continued to write even after those examples so they weren’t the sole reason for this decision.

Another reason I stopped writing for BlogHer is because I’ve been writing about being a single 20-something for over three years. I started when I was 26 and last week I turned 30. For years, when people asked me what I write about for BlogHer, I told them “I write about being a 20-something single woman.” And truthfully? I was opposed to changing that line to “I write about being a 30-something single woman.” When my 30th birthday rolled around, it seemed like a good time to make a change.

But that wasn’t the sole reason, either. I didn’t stop writing for BlogHer just because I’m newly-30 and single. (For God’s sake, I’ve always said that I’d rather be happy and single — both of which I am right now — than unhappy and coupled. That will always remain the case.) The lovely people at BlogHer said they wanted me to stick around and that I was welcome to write about an entirely new topic if I preferred.

I said no. I just can’t do it right now.

The reason I stopped writing for BlogHer is this: I did a lot of stuff in my 20s and I have a feeling my 30s are going to be just as full, if not more so. I want to keep myself open for new adventures and opportunities, and part of that process has involved making changes to things that marked my 20s. For instance, in the past few months leading up to my birthday I moved back into an apartment by myself, cut my hair shorter than I’ve had it in many years, and went off to Europe for two weeks. As it turns out, I needed to include the BlogHer gig in that list, too.

My personal blog has been a lot of things for me over the past eight years. It’s been a public diary. A place for friends and family to keep up with my life even though I don’t see or talk to them every day. A place for me to meet new people, some of which have become irreplaceable real-life friends. A place for me to let the world (at least those who take the time to read my words) know what’s going on in my head.

My personal blog will remain public and I will continue to update it once in a while. I’ve even been told that I’m still welcome to write for BlogHer in the future if I feel like it.

Over the years, people have asked me when I thought I might stop blogging. I’ve asked myself that same question, but it was impossible to know the answer. After taking this step, I must admit, I feel like I’m a little closer.

Why do I feel differently about blogging in my 30s than I did about blogging in my 20s? I don’t know, but I intend to explore the answer to that question.

I was surprised to see that one of my posts included in The BlogHer Community’s Most Loved Posts of 2009 was actually something I wrote back in 2007. In that post, written a few months after I turned 27, I talked about approaching 30. Now that I’m three months shy of my 30th birthday, I thought it was time to readdress it.

When I wrote about this subject three years ago, I said that turning 30 didn’t seem like a scary or unwelcome prospect but I was leaving the possibility open that I might change my mind. I’m very glad to say that I haven’t changed my mind.

In 2007, I’d been living in northern Virginia for almost a year. Since then I’ve changed apartments a few times, I have a different job, and I know a lot of people that I didn’t know back then. I like my life. I like where I am. I like the decisions I’ve made. Given those factors, there’s no reason to dread entering a new decade.

I did quite a bit in my 20s. I drove cross-country by myself. Lived in Amsterdam for five months when I did a semester abroad in college. Developed and overcame an eating disorder. Finished my bachelor’s degree. Struggled through a quarterlife crisis. Donned a bridesmaid dress four times. Gambled in Las Vegas. Visited the Grand Canyon, Red Rocks Amphiteatre, and Yellowstone National Park. So much more than I can recall off the top of my head, in fact.

I’m looking forward to a new decade because I know how much I’ve changed in the past ten years and I have a feeling my 30s are going to be pretty cool, too.

For one thing, I’m giving myself the best 30th birthday present I could think of. I’ve wanted to return to Europe ever since I came home from my semester abroad five years ago, and I finally decided this year would be the year. I’ll be gone from late April through the first part of May (I’m planning to stay for two weeks), and will visit three cities in the Netherlands, along with Berlin, Prague, Vienna, and Budapest. I’m extremely excited about it.

Of course there are a number of things I wish I would have done by now that I haven’t, but those are my own expectations. I don’t feel burdened by anyone else’s thoughts about where I should be or what I should have accomplished by now. And to be honest, I’m kind of hoping there’s something ultra-cool in store for me in my 30s that I haven’t even thought of yet.

Related Reading:

My good friend Janet from Slice of Pink recently wrote 30 Before 30, The Epilogue. I loved her list because there were a number of untypical things on there, which, if you know Janet, is exactly what you’d expect from her. And she rocked it.

Inspired by Janet, Pretty Green Girl came up with her own “30 Before 30″ list.

As My Life Is reminisces on good and bad things that have happened to her between the ages of 21 and 30.

Anita will be turning 30 in six months. She plans to initiate something on her blog called “30 to celebrate 30″ — a series of 30 posts about 30 people/things/places that have been very important to her over the last 30 years.

I’ve been a member of an online dating site since July 2008; I’ve never suspended or canceled the service since it was activated. It’s always there, ready for me to use if I feel like it, but my frequency of use has varied widely. There have been times where I met three new people in one week, and other times where I’ve met the same number of people in a month or more.

In an even more drastic change of pace, I’ve only met one new person through online dating in the past three months. I’ve seen that person about eight times, but getting together has been haphazard. In other words, I’m not dating him exclusively because I don’t want to see other people, I just haven’t met anyone else that I want to go out with.

I’ve decided not to see this person anymore, but right now logging into my online dating account doesn’t hold a lot of appeal either. When I log in, it feels like the profiles start to run together — everyone sounds the same, so it’s hard to differentiate one person from the next.

People tend to say the same things over and over. If I have to read “I really don’t do the club scene anymore, but I like going to bars,” or “I’m looking for someone who enjoys going out but also likes to spend a night relaxing with a movie on the couch,” I’ll probably put my fist through the computer screen. (It’s fine if you like those things. It’s just that they’re so common to so many people, it should be assumed.)

Instead of wading through profiles that just end up frustrating me, I’ve been able to remind myself of all the other things out there to do. For instance, it’s nice to hang out with existing friends — people that I already know I like — instead of someone that I’m probably only going to see once or twice.

I’m not trashing online dating. I was positive about it when I wrote my Online Dating, One Year Later recap post last summer, and I still feel that way. I wouldn’t change anything. I guess, just like with anything else, if you do something long enough you’re going to get bored with it. Or at least need a break once in a while.

I don’t feel like I’m at the point where I want to cancel it completely, though. I’m not bothered by the fee. (Even though I only stay in touch with a few of the guys I’ve met since I started online dating, having them in my life has been worth the money and time I’ve spent with all the others who have come and gone.) So I’ll keep it, at least for a little while longer.

Related Reading:

Lady Brett: Things Not To Do When Dating Me (Before, During or After)

Athena Stars gives us 30 Signs You’re Dating A Jerk.

This blogger was frustrated with dating the same type of guy until she found her now-husband on Match.

New York Times: In the Calculations of Online Dating, Love Can Be Cruel

New York Times: Breaking up in a Digital Fishbowl

Ever since I moved into a studio in January, I find myself drawn to stories and photos of other studio apartments, as well as the people who live in them. I want to know how they arrange their furniture, and if living in a smaller space suits them. I wonder if their space feels crowded because they’re trying to fit too much into a limited amount of square footage or if everything flows like it should.

I’ve discovered that some people prefer to live in small spaces. There’s less upkeep involved, less to clean, and less furniture to buy to fill large rooms that you may not be using.

I don’t like to keep stuff around that I’m not using, so although I’m aware of various space-saving measures — hiding storage items in ottomans that open up, or in flat plastic containers I could slide under my bed — I haven’t needed to utilize them.

When I moved from my last location to my current place, the kind people who helped me move remarked on my very manageable amount of boxes and furniture. That was purposeful on my part — I always purge things I don’t want anymore when I move from one place to another. (In fact, I’d just dropped off six big bags of stuff at a thrift store the weekend before.)

I’ve noticed that when I meet someone and find out they live in a studio, I tend to start asking questions. I want to know if they separate their living area from their sleeping area, or if they keep the room open. I inquire about the use of room dividers. I wonder if they like their space or if they’d trade up for a larger area if they could (there are some people who say they wouldn’t).

Apartment Therapy has a number of good posts related to space-saving solutions and decorating tips for small areas.

4 Small Space Solutions In One Space

You Know When You Live In a Small Space When…

5 Tips For Arranging Your Studio Apartment

Tips For Making A Small Apartment Feel Bigger

At 102 square feet, this studio apartment is only 1/5 the size of mine(!).

Other Resources:

New York Times: A Roomy 178 Square Feet

Home Interiors Zone showcases 19 Amazing Furniture Designs To Make The Most Out Of Tiny Apartment Space

Related blogs:

Malnurtured Snay lives in a studio apartment and shows an example of another studio arrangement that he loves.

Diplotette just moved to Washington, DC to become a Foreign Service Officer, and she’s proud of the $1,100 per month studio she was able to find in Logan Circle.

Miss Moss says Small is Cool.

Darling Dexter recently moved into a studio with her husband and dog.

What’s your favorite way to save space in a small home?

Every year in the weeks leading up to Valentine’s Day, we inevitably read the same kind of material as we did the year before: articles about how not to be depressed if you don’t have a date; tips on what to buy your sweetie if you have one; people who are depressed and bitter about their single status; and people like me who say the holiday doesn’t bother them one bit.

I’ve had my personal blog for over seven years, and up until 2007 I didn’t bother addressing the holiday at all (I confirmed this today when I went looking through my archives to refresh my memory). But I did write about it in 2007, and then again in 2009.

Do you know what means a lot more to me than cards, candy, flowers, and other miscellaneous gifts? The relationships I have with people. Yesterday, I had two male friends meet me at a furniture sale in DC and then we all went out to lunch. That afternoon, I spent time in Georgetown with another male friend and we went out to dinner. And then last night I went to a bar to celebrate a girlfriend’s birthday. Today my friend Jeff (who I met through blogging) answered my distress call when he brought over a shovel and dug my car out of its snowy parking spot.

(I realized after the fact that he was wearing a red coat. Happy Valentine’s Day, indeed!)

All of the things I just mentioned make me very happy. I don’t feel deprived or sad, and I definitely don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything.

If Valentine’s Day is about celebrating relationships, then I’ve got it covered.

Here’s what other people are writing about Valentine’s Day:

Kris at Not a Girl, Not Yet a Wino has a message for All the Single Ladies. It’s a must-read.

It’s Valentine’s Day. If you’re reading this, I’m guessing you’re single, because those who are partnered are likely pulling their SO’s hair out of the shower drain. Now please don’t start crying, because I don’t have a lot of tissues in the house, and toilet paper will do nothing for your skin. It’s okay to be single. No; I don’t care what your mother said. It’s okay to be single, and if that’s where you are this year you’re doing just fine.

Bella DePaulo always gives an awesome, honest, straight-up perspective about being single. She wrote this post as a reaction to another Psychology Today contributor’s post called To be or not to be (in love): That is the question. Read that link first and then read Bella’s response.

I hate the thought that I would ever refer to myself as being bitter on Valentine’s Day (so far I never have), but some people do use that term because it is the way they’re feeling. The lovely Stephanie Quilao writes:

I know. I know. I should be grown up and just get over it like any other mature adult but I’m just going to be honest and admit that a part of me still feels a little bit of the bitter sting around the heart more because I thought I would have at least had a serious relationship by now, but I do not. If I think about it too much, it makes me want to bundle myself up in a sleeved blanket of fleece and cry me a river with Justin Timberlake. Say hello to my woeful drama queen side.

However, she realizes this isn’t the best attitude for her to have and goes on to list give things to people can do to not be miserable on Valentine’s Day.

Ryane just turned 38 and writes about being single, never married. (I met her in person a few weeks ago. She’s both stunning and delightful.)

So much time is given to disecting the single woman’s life. Is she too picky? Is she a slut? Is she expecting too much? Does she try too hard? I’m sure married folk and those in long-term relationships bear their own excruciatingly annoying burdens – burdens given to them by society and well-meaning types who only want the best for them, but it’s exhausting. I find I can’t defend my reasons for not wanting to go out every night or make myself painfully ‘available’ at single’s events. I’ve never enjoyed such things and as I get older, their appeal is markedly less.

CosmoPolitician tells us her thoughts on modern love.

I’m known to be pretty outspoken on my views of romantic relationships…but rarely do I ever discuss the L word. It’s not that I’m afraid of love (an all too common misjudgment of a 31 year old single gal). I’ve been in love. I’ve been loved. I cringe when coupled up friends remark, “oh, you just haven’t met the right one yet!” It doesn’t often occur to those people that maybe I’m not looking for the right one. Just yet, at least. I refer to this as couple-tunnel vision. Or love goggles. Most people in a relationship (at least happy, healthy relationships) can’t imagine why everyone wouldn’t want to be. [N]ot every single person is actively looking for love.

Maris at In Good Taste gives us the Single Girl’s Guide to Surviving Valentine’s Day.

DO: Remember that it’s only one day a year. February 14 will come and go, but you have 364 other days to show the people you care about that you love them.

It wasn’t until recently that I became interested in decorating. When I was living with my sisters throughout my late teens to mid-twenties, doing anything with my apartment other than the bare minimum wasn’t something that ever crossed my mind. As long as I had furniture that looked all right, a TV and computer, something on the walls…I was good to go.

Things have changed since then. I’m much more interested in how things are put together. All the options we have. Colors, fabrics, furniture, lighting.

Of course, that’s all it is right now — an interest. I’m not trying to come off as somebody with, you know, style, because then you might come to my place (or you might see photos, if I’m ever brave enough to take and post any) and think to yourself, “Who does this crazy girl think she is?”

That’s the great thing about decorating, though. It’s completely subjective. If you love something, there’s a good chance I won’t. Or even if I think it’s okay, or interesting, it may not be something I’d ever consider putting in my home. All I know is that I’ve discovered I really enjoy looking at pictures of other people’s homes and I use that information to inform me about what I might want to do in my own place.

I’ve been in my apartment for almost a month, which means I’ve been able to go from contemplating how I’d like to do things to actually implementing those ideas. I’m happy with my sofa and large matching armchair (bought from Craigslist for a good price). I have a 42″ flat screen TV that I bought from a friend after he upgraded to a larger size. (I needed a new TV because I was tired of my huge, 11-year-old, 25″ inch model, but if I had bought something brand new I probably wouldn’t have splurged for the 42″. It looks just fine in my space, though.)

The TV is currently sitting on the floor because the TV stand I bought, although it’s been delivered, is still downstairs in my building’s package-storage area. It’s real wood, but it was delivered in a flat box and needs to be assembled. The box is long and heavy, so I can’t transport it by myself. However, one of my guy friends has volunteered to come over, help me bring it upstairs, and assemble it, so I plan to take him up on his kind offer in the next few days.

My biggest issue right now is that there’s nothing on my walls. I have this one really cool print that I bought from my photographer-cousin, but I need to take it to a store that sells frames so I can buy one before I hang it up. I’ve looked for frames online, but I think I’d be better off looking at them in person so I can choose which color and type of frame goes best with this particular photograph.

I also purchased this bookcase. I like that it’s on wheels. And yesterday I bought a really cute key holder to put on the wall next to my front door, and another print to hang up, both from Etsy.

I guess what I want is what a lot of other people want: a place that’s a haven for me, and a place where other people feel comfortable as well. I’m not quite there yet but I’m enjoying the journey.

Related Reading:

I’m one of the many people who have fallen for Apartment Therapy — I have subscriptions to each of their six city-specific sites in my feed reader. I also like that they often feature studio apartments and other small spaces in their posts. One good one is their roundup of 33 Best Small Space Design Tips.

Fresh Design featured a really neat all-glass coffee table, but I like this acrylic one by CB2.

You Live Where asks Who Needs Space?

When I started apartment hunting last fall, I fought against living in a studio. I’d never lived in one before and if given the choice, I’d like to keep my living area separate from my sleeping area. At the same time, though, I knew from my apartment research that given the amenities I wanted (walking distance to a Metro station, in a safe area, with a balcony), and not wanting to pay over a certain amount for rent, a studio was pretty much my only option.

So that’s what I went with. And as studios go, I really can’t complain. The one I live in is a decent size. I’ve seen plenty of studios online that are 200, 300, or 400 square feet, but mine is 540. Large windows and a mostly-glass door leading to the balcony let in a ton of light. The kitchen is a separate room instead of being part of the main room, and it’s big enough that I could fit a small table and chairs in the corner if I wanted to. (I probably won’t bother, though. I rarely eat at a table, and there are no windows in there to look out of. Just bare white walls.)

I was actually surprised at how quickly I got used to my living and sleeping area being in the same room. Then again, I haven’t entertained a large crowd of people yet. If I were to throw a party with 10+ guests, it might feel a little strange to have people milling around beside the place I sleep every night. (Or maybe I’ll be even more used to it by then and it won’t bother me one bit. We shall see.)

There are a number of things I like about living in a studio apartment. Since I don’t have a lot of space and prefer a minimalist decor, there isn’t a lot of upkeep involved. It’s pretty easy to keep the area clean and everything in its rightful place. When it’s time to go to sleep, I can get up from my couch and walk four or five steps to my bed. It’s right there.

The disadvantages are what you would expect. While it’s easy to keep things clean, if you don’t keep things picked up it’s obvious as soon as you walk in the door. In my last apartment, I would often make an effort to straighten the blankets on my bed in the morning…but not always. And if the bed wasn’t made or I had a pile of stuff on the floor or on the dresser that I hadn’t gotten around to putting away, I’d just close the door. But now I can’t do that. I’ve made my bed every day for the past three weeks. So I suppose you could say living in a studio has forced me to be more conscientious about putting things away, but there’s nothing wrong with that.

People who don’t live in a high cost of living area are often amazed I would pay what I do to live in a studio. And I don’t blame them — years ago, before I moved to the DC metro area, I would have been right there with them. I’m very much aware that if I moved 100 miles south (most of my immediate family lives in Richmond, Virginia) I could pay less for the same amount of space. I was talking to a girlfriend about this just a few days ago. She lives in a studio apartment in DC and she mentioned that some of her family members have made comments about her choice to live where she does.

However, she and I are in agreement. This is where we want to be right now. Living here makes us happy. If this location ceases to feel like the right place to be, we’ll make changes. In the meantime, I’m going to live in my little studio and revel in the fact that it’s mine.

Related Reading:

Darling Dexter and her husband recently moved into a studio apartment and they really like it.

Decorology shares photos from a studio apartment she lived in several years ago. She credits that place with starting her love of interior design. When she moved in, she “had no idea how to decorate a studio and finally didn’t have any roommates and could decorate how I wanted.”

When Lydia lived in a studio apartment with no balcony, she had to get creative when she wanted to grill food. Her remedy: “I pulled out the George Foreman and my chocolate fondue set and set it up on the coffee table alongside the ‘campfire’ made up of the candles I owned…I filled the cooler with beer and set up my camping chair.”

On a recent Saturday night, I agreed to accompany a male friend (I’ll refer to him as B) to a work function. B’s company was throwing a dinner party at the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History, and since I’d never been to a fancy party at a museum before I figured it would be an interesting experience.

It was, indeed, an interesting and fun night. Before the party, we went to the rooftop bar at the W Hotel in DC to meet up with B’s co-worker and his date. Once we got to the museum we milled around with all the other people wearing black suits and black dresses (seriously, there were very few women wearing dresses with color — for the record, mine was black as well), and then we ate really good food, had some drinks, and danced.

The party started winding down around midnight, and by that point I was tired and ready to go home. However, B wanted to go out with a few of his co-workers to a club or bar or something. I didn’t ask him for specifics because I didn’t feel like going. (B and I met through an online dating site last fall and went on four or five dates. We’ve stayed in touch through Facebook since we stopped seeing each other, but we were definitely hanging out that night on a “just friends” basis.)

With absolutely no animosity, I thanked B for inviting me, told him he was free to continue his evening, and that I would take Metro home (there have been quite a few instances where I’ve taken Metro by myself late at night, so I wasn’t worried about getting home.) B was fine with this plan. He walked with me to the sidewalk outside the museum, waited while I asked someone for directions to the closest Metro, and then I went on my way.

The only thing that bothered me was that I didn’t quite know where I was going. (Usually when I walk to the Metro by myself at night, I’m familiar with the area and know exactly where I’m going.) I knew where I was, and I had a general idea of where I should walk to find the Metro…but the truth is, I had been drinking and when I got to the area where I thought the Metro should be and I couldn’t find it, I felt pretty frustrated. I ended up asking for directions from a stranger on the street who was able to point out where I needed to go.

(And then, being the nice soul that I am, when B sent me a text at 3am asking if he could sleep at my place because he was too drunk to drive home, I walked downstairs to let him into my apartment building and let him sleep on my couch. Although that was mostly due to the fact that he lives 20 miles outside of town and I didn’t want his life — or the lives of other drivers — on my conscience if something happened.)

It wasn’t until a few days later — when I relayed the events of that evening to two of my female co-workers — that I thought about the situation again. It turns out these ladies were much more appalled at my story than I thought they would be, and they were certainly more appalled than I had been. The first point of contention was that they thought he should have left the party when I did, since I’d agreed to be his date and it was his responsibility to get me safely home. While I understood where they were coming from, I told them I wasn’t upset about that. If he’d rather go out with other people, that was his choice.

Their second point of contention was that if he did let me leave without him, he should have at least made sure I got to the Metro safely. When I thought about that, I agreed with them. It certainly would have been the nice thing to do. Especially since I’m quite sure I have a number of male friends who would have insisted they help me locate the Metro before they let me go off by myself.

If B and I were dating instead of just friends, it would have been a bigger deal that he didn’t see me safely to the Metro. But I wasn’t in a dangerous area and I knew he wasn’t trying to impress me, so that’s why I didn’t put too much thought into it.

I guess it’s all about expectations. I tend not to have expectations of people until they’ve been a bigger part of my life than just a few dates. I’m not going to let someone walk all over me, but I try to be realistic.

Also, if we were on a date that night and he expected to see me again, this situation would have been different — I strongly doubt I would have agreed to go out with him again. If you truly like someone, you want to impress them and you want to make sure they know you care about their well-being.

What do situations like this show me? That I know the kind of person I want to date, and that person is considerate and kind. I wasn’t appalled at B’s behavior, but neither was I impressed by it.

I want to be impressed.

Related Reading:

Totally Her: She’s Just Not That Impressed by You

Dating Over 40: I Let a Good One Get Away

50JDates is trying to figure out how to handle the guy she’s currently dating.

(Contributing editor Zandria blogs at Zandria.us.)