Last week I met a warm-hearted, successful and handsome fellow at a concert who I immediately took a liking to. Over the course of the night, we established that we’re both hyper-communicators, super in tune with our emotions, and completely committed to the craft of writing. In other words, he was a candidate to be my new dream man.

He walked me home and we sat on my patio with my dog Dutchie snuggled in between us.  I knew by the end of the night he would express how he felt about me.

We continued to bond over things like our vices (his: women, mine: men) and the fact that we’re both neurotic Jews, in our own special way. He told me how he dates all the time and I asked him where he meets these lucky ladies.

“Everywhere. The bus stop, the grocery store,” he said. “Guys in this city don’t ask out girls so when I put myself out there like that, it’s really not hard to get a date.”

I told him about a recent trip to LA, where men do double takes at you with sincere admiration every time you leave the house. I can’t remember a time when I felt so noticed, and in turn, beautiful.  It simply doesn’t happen like that here in Vancouver.

I commended my new friend on his tactics and told him I too am the one who usually is the pursuer, though I was starting to consider taking a different approach. Usually, when I know what I want, I know how to get it. But the pursuit was starting to get exhausting and if my track record says anything, my approach rarely produces long-term results. I told him the bottom line is that I’m not scared of the possibility of love. Then I leaned in and kissed him.

It was getting late and he called a cab. I took his number. He looked at me and smiled.

“I’m really interested in you but –”

*

A year ago, I sat my close friend Sarah down with a bottle of wine and a digital recorder and told her to tell me her secret. Sarah is intoxicatingly beautiful. She is also enchanting, charming, warm, funny, smart, witty, and intriguing. In other words, for men, she is the ultimate pursuit.

I have seen it countless times when I’m out with her. Men falling all over themselves to catch her attention, even if it’s just for a quick chat. One time that stands out particularly, was when a grey-haired, pony-tailed, washed up bohemian-type man ran out from a restaurant to ask us if we were lost. I watched as Sarah politely talked to this man, who said he was a photographer and that he really liked her “unique style.” (She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt.) I stood and watched in disgust and pity at this ridiculous old yam. I wondered where on earth he had the gall. I wanted to tell him that we are all blinded by our delusions but please, let’s get real.

What equally impresses and baffles me is that Sarah will always give her time to these men, which in turn, makes them feel like they have a chance. I view her actions as being philanthropic, a way to give back to men for expressing interest and in turn, make them feel good about themselves. Because Sarah is a better person than I ever will be.

When a man who clearly doesn’t have a chance with me starts to chat me up, I quickly tell him where to go. But that’s a story for another time.

It goes without saying that Sarah doesn’t have a problem getting not only what she wants, but getting what she wants to fall deeply, deeply in love with her. She just has a way with love.

So, that night when we sat down with a bottle of wine and my digital recorder, I asked her to tell me how she does it.

“There’s no real secret or anything,” she shrugged. “I’m simply put off when a man isn’t interested in me.”

*

“I’m really interested in you but –“

I honestly can’t remember what my new friend said after that because I totally tuned it out. Had this been a year ago, I would have overanalyzed his statement, agonized about it for days, then beat myself up for not being good enough. After I’d done that, I also would have probably pursued him anyway, in an attempt to make him realize that his initial feelings were wrong and that I am amazing and that he totally wants to date me.

Instead, I went inside, locked the door and deleted his number from my phone. I felt like shit, but it was a start.

The next morning, I took Dutchie out for a walk. An older woman and her black and white Shih Tzu walked towards us. The only thing my dog cares about in this world is me, so when other dogs approach her she generally ignores them. But something different happened this time. I watched in amazement as, after sniffing the Shih Tzu’s butt, Dutchie started to bounce around with sheer excitement.  I’d never seen her like this before. She pawed at the Shih Tzu’s face, waved her butt to his nose and bounced around some more. She was completely taken. I tried to walk away but she didn’t want to leave and neither did her new boyfriend. When we finally did, the Shih Tzu ran after Dutchie. They did more pawing, bouncing, tail wagging and sniffing and finally, the Shih Tzu’s owner called her dog, Teddy, and they parted ways. Within seconds, Dutchie was back in her zone, marching ahead, in tune with her step, as if nothing had even happened. I looked down at my dog lovingly and shook my head in amazement. I truly admired her approach.

Confidential to MM: I really look forward to reading your stories on love when you finally feel inspired. For whatever it’s worth, you inspired me.

Last week, I got to cross something off my bucket list. But before I get to that, let me stress that every time I hear this particular idiom, I think of that movie from a few years ago starring Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman. You might remember it. It was called “The Bucket List” and it was about two veteran actors who once had dignity and an impressive body of work, and the journey they took to temporarily nullify all that.

Here’s the poster. It looks like Morgan is sitting on Jack’s knee.

The film was distributed around the world in many different languages.  In Turkey, the film’s title was translated to: “Now or Never,” and in Korea it was a little more literal: “Things you Want to do Before Dying.” My personal favourite was Japan’s translation: “How to Find the Greatest Life.” The Japanese are such cheery people.

So yeah. Last week I got to experience something big that I wanted to do at least once before dying.

I’ve been compiling these kinds of lists and goals since a very young age. My first list had three points on it: 1. Learn how to tie my shoelaces the adult way (not the bunny ears way)
2. Learn how to ride a two-wheeler
3. Go on a rollercoaster.

I made that list when I was seven. It took me about five years to cross them all off.

Into my late teens and early twenties, these lists took a different turn. They started focusing on the types of guys I wanted to date or bed. It started with a musician. A successful one. It took a few months, but eventually I met, and fell in love with a musician. About two months after we started dating, he got signed to a popular indie label and went on to be quite popular.

Thinking back to what compelled me to want to date a musician, I realize now that I was more drawn to the lifestyle than to the partnership. It feels good to be with someone who’s adored by people all around the world, being interviewed for high profile magazines and TV shows, getting free shit, going to amazing parties, and generally living a life that most normal people would never get a taste of.  But I realized early on that while I was attached to this person, I didn’t have that much access to his lifestyle.

I found myself longing to live like him, though I had very few means to do so. I was starting my career as a writer working at a community paper. I wrote about things like board of education budget meetings and the annual citywide palm tree count

Meanwhile, he was going to Grammy parties and opening for No Doubt. He was so clearly living his bucket list. I was so desperately envious.

After we broke up, my list continued to focus on the type of guy I wanted to date, always based on his career. And so, I dated (in this order) an animator, an artist, a (retired) professional skateboarder, a comedian, a comedian, and a comedian. None of them have worked out.

After the last comedian, I decided to shift the focus of my lists back to goals that involved me and my life. The very first thing on that list was to fly first class.

Flying is exciting to me. It’s also incredibly uncomfortable. I desperately wanted to experience what it was like to fly in style some time before I died.

Last week, I was flown to Toronto for an assignment. My flight was first class both ways. On the way there, it was pod seating, where your chair reclines and you don’t sit next to anyone. It was really incredible. I slept comfortably for the first time on a plane. They addressed me as Ms. Lev and fed me warm cookies and ice cream. I had the option between an omelet and banana bread French toast (I choose the omelet, which tasted like upscale airplane food.) There were full-length mirrors in the bathrooms. I felt like I’d arrived. I had somehow found the way, as the Japanese would say, to have the greatest life. It felt really good.

However, my return flight was quite different. There were no pods, just seats, which were only slightly bigger than coach. I wasn’t hungry but ate my dinner and the warm cookies and ice cream they served me on principle – I wanted to take advantage of every aspect of first class.  The plane had terrible turbulence that made me vomit in the first class bathroom. I sheepishly told the stewards that I’d clogged the sink. That feeling that I’d arrived at? It didn’t take too long to disappear.

Coming off the plane, nauseous and sticky, I realized that while there might be something significant to having the dream, there’s definitely something more to living the reality.

—

I want to know what’s on your list of things you want to do before you die. Please email me at write@eliannalev.com or leave a comment below.