Between work and school, I haven't had time for male-related... well, anything. Except that creepy old bald guy who came in to the restaurant I work at with his friend after a jog, in sweaty jogging shorts, with sweat pooring out of his bald little head. Ick. Look, I love a good run/workout as much as anyone, but hit the showers, then the bistros. In that order. Seriously.
Since FF sent a text message along with his infamous email that asked very casually "what's your week like?" I replied to that, and told him I was busy with School Project XYZ, to which he answered "boo" (but understood, as we'd discussed said project before and he knows I can't help but devote all my time to it). I didn't respond to his e-mail, which was sort of the full-length version of the text, since the text answered the e-mail's underlying question anyhow and another "no, busy this week," would be redundant.
BTW, can I just say that even if I liked this guy, the fact that he sent me both a text and an e-mail with the same content, I'd be a little annoyed at his overwhelming desperation to get ahold of me. Though the e-mail was more detailed and mentioned the word "date" whereas the text was vague, the idea that he couldn't wait for me to reply to one or the other and had to sent both is in itself a bit annoying.
Then again, if I really liked him, I'd probably take up my usual habit of thinking all his obnoxious traits were "cute" and "endearing" until I came to my senses months later.
The point is, I'm not replying to the e-mail. Next time he asks me out--assuming his sweetheart gay roommate doesn't read the e-mail and clue him in on the subtext--I'll be clear. "I don't like you that way," I'll say.
Anyhow, like I said, nothing new to report - except I am horrid at sticking to diets, especially with pizza in the room - but I was sick of starring at the same post.
Edit: Oh, and Kurt Vonnegut died. I wrote his obit for my school paper, but seriously, I am sadder to know he is no longer in this world. When Douglas Adams died, I carried a towel to school. Adams was young and that was sort of tragic; Vonnegut was old. And yet, he represented mindfulness and cleverness in a world gone mad; there is a literary gap without him. His books helped me get through high school. Slapstick, especially, and many of his short stories, were much-needed satires of the world. He was a champion for freedom of literature and admired librarians more than politicians, a trait I think more of us should emulate. He hated the semi-colon; I love it. So we can disagree on that. God Bless You, Mr. Vonnegut.
April 14, 2007
April 9, 2007
Apparently I Do Have to Spell It O-U-T
So the situation that I thought had been resolved apparently wasn't.
This became clear tonight when I opened my e-mail and found a letter from Friend's Friend. In it, he asks what my week is like and, well, see for yourself. He writes:
I'd like to either buy you lunch or cook you dinner, under a date-ish pretext since last time we were just hanging out.
And I was floored. Because I thought we were at that level of understanding. Apparently not. I explained the situation to male friend. "Is there anything a girl can do -- short of spelling it out for you in tiny words -- that would indicate you are never getting in her pants?" My friend said some guys can take a hint, but many do in fact live in a state of constant optimism.
Which is understandable to me. I don't pretend to understand guys and lord knows us women are great at giving out mixed signals. Like how us "hanging out" signaled to FF that I liked him. But I thought the whole post-kiss e-mails sort of cleared that up. Here's what I wrote to him after the kiss-attempt:
"The truth is I'm sort of a happy, flirty person and I tend to be all giggly and happy with everyone, which if you've only met me a few times might give the wrong impression. I'm sorry I may have led you on?"
My guy friend noted that while this implies I only like him as a friend--and most people would get it--obviously FF is a bit stubborn. Or slow. Something like that. "You'll have to come out and say, 'I only like you as a friend,'" he told me.
Apparently so. But how annoying. I know us girls are confusing, but when I am appalled at your attempt to kiss me and then send you a letter explaining that I am SORRY if I LED YOU ON, it should be more than clear how I feel about you.
Right? Right? GAH!
This became clear tonight when I opened my e-mail and found a letter from Friend's Friend. In it, he asks what my week is like and, well, see for yourself. He writes:
I'd like to either buy you lunch or cook you dinner, under a date-ish pretext since last time we were just hanging out.
And I was floored. Because I thought we were at that level of understanding. Apparently not. I explained the situation to male friend. "Is there anything a girl can do -- short of spelling it out for you in tiny words -- that would indicate you are never getting in her pants?" My friend said some guys can take a hint, but many do in fact live in a state of constant optimism.
Which is understandable to me. I don't pretend to understand guys and lord knows us women are great at giving out mixed signals. Like how us "hanging out" signaled to FF that I liked him. But I thought the whole post-kiss e-mails sort of cleared that up. Here's what I wrote to him after the kiss-attempt:
"The truth is I'm sort of a happy, flirty person and I tend to be all giggly and happy with everyone, which if you've only met me a few times might give the wrong impression. I'm sorry I may have led you on?"
My guy friend noted that while this implies I only like him as a friend--and most people would get it--obviously FF is a bit stubborn. Or slow. Something like that. "You'll have to come out and say, 'I only like you as a friend,'" he told me.
Apparently so. But how annoying. I know us girls are confusing, but when I am appalled at your attempt to kiss me and then send you a letter explaining that I am SORRY if I LED YOU ON, it should be more than clear how I feel about you.
Right? Right? GAH!
April 4, 2007
An Update - It All Floats On Okay
So I got an e-mail from Friend's Friend. For a day or so, I was afraid to open it, horrified at being scolding for "leading him on" and possibly using words like "slut" and "cock tease." But it was not that sort of e-mail.
He is obviously the more mature one.
In fact, the e-mail was nice. He says that he had fun and doesn't regret "liking me" or kissing me. He just regrets how defensively he acted, which honestly I don't remember. Pot + Booze = InstaBlackOut for me, so though I remember rejecting him, I don't remember his reaction being weird or defensive or odd.
I sent him a nice letter back, that I had fun too, and that booze and pot leads to random kissing and acting stupid, and apologized if I was a jerk.
Since he emphasized that he had a great time up until then, I'm hoping we can still be friends. And hey, who knows? Maybe in a year or so, I'll fall head over heels for him and by then he'll have a girlfriend and I'll be kicking myself. That'd be my luck.
He is obviously the more mature one.
In fact, the e-mail was nice. He says that he had fun and doesn't regret "liking me" or kissing me. He just regrets how defensively he acted, which honestly I don't remember. Pot + Booze = InstaBlackOut for me, so though I remember rejecting him, I don't remember his reaction being weird or defensive or odd.
I sent him a nice letter back, that I had fun too, and that booze and pot leads to random kissing and acting stupid, and apologized if I was a jerk.
Since he emphasized that he had a great time up until then, I'm hoping we can still be friends. And hey, who knows? Maybe in a year or so, I'll fall head over heels for him and by then he'll have a girlfriend and I'll be kicking myself. That'd be my luck.
April 2, 2007
She's Just Not That Into You
In an attempt to assauge the mild guilt over blowing off a potential friend, I related the story to several female friends. All of them came to the same conclusion: guys do not understand girls. No, I shouldn't have agreed to go to his place when my only motive was to kick his ass MarioKart and had no desire to make out. It sent the wrong message. But women are good at sending mixed messages, because to us it is not really that mixed.
We like you. As a friend. On paper, we'd like you a lot more, but there's either a lack of attraction or a lack of chemistry that we just can't get past. Sorry.
Wanna hear a secret, men, that will blow your minds?
Women are often willing to go on a second or third date with a guy they don't like. Why? Because if on paper we are compatible and all that's lacking is attraction or chemistry, we see potential. Not potential to change the guy, but potential for attraction to grow, for sparks to kindle.
Most of us are not attempting to lead you on. We just want to be sure there's nothing before we end it for good. Sometimes we immediately find guys attractive. Other times, it takes weeks or even years of knowing a guy before we really fall for them. No one expects you to wait around that long, but if there might be a chance we want to try it out.
Sadly, this leads to various third-date "nope it's not happening" situations that men loathe. "But she was so flirty, so fun!" they'll say. Maybe so, but she's decided you are only compatible as friends. She likes you as a person, enjoys your company, and laughs at your jokes. But for whatever reason, she doesn't want your tongue in her mouth. Get over it.
It maybe more obvious when a guy "is just not that into" girls. Guys typically won't go on a first date with a girl they're not attracted to (unless it is a blind date or online date situation). Sorry we're more difficult, guys, but it's not that complicated. We give ourselves multiple chances to reevaluate our feelings or attraction level and if nothing changes, it ain't gonna happen.
So there's my two cents. Feel free to chime in.
We like you. As a friend. On paper, we'd like you a lot more, but there's either a lack of attraction or a lack of chemistry that we just can't get past. Sorry.
Wanna hear a secret, men, that will blow your minds?
Women are often willing to go on a second or third date with a guy they don't like. Why? Because if on paper we are compatible and all that's lacking is attraction or chemistry, we see potential. Not potential to change the guy, but potential for attraction to grow, for sparks to kindle.
Most of us are not attempting to lead you on. We just want to be sure there's nothing before we end it for good. Sometimes we immediately find guys attractive. Other times, it takes weeks or even years of knowing a guy before we really fall for them. No one expects you to wait around that long, but if there might be a chance we want to try it out.
Sadly, this leads to various third-date "nope it's not happening" situations that men loathe. "But she was so flirty, so fun!" they'll say. Maybe so, but she's decided you are only compatible as friends. She likes you as a person, enjoys your company, and laughs at your jokes. But for whatever reason, she doesn't want your tongue in her mouth. Get over it.
It maybe more obvious when a guy "is just not that into" girls. Guys typically won't go on a first date with a girl they're not attracted to (unless it is a blind date or online date situation). Sorry we're more difficult, guys, but it's not that complicated. We give ourselves multiple chances to reevaluate our feelings or attraction level and if nothing changes, it ain't gonna happen.
So there's my two cents. Feel free to chime in.
March 30, 2007
Spring Break Brokenhearted
So yesterday, after blowing him off time and time again, I finally hung out with Friend's Friend again. Hey, it's Spring Break! We were just going to drink beer and play games. Like, you know, Scrabble and Trivial Pursuit. I wasn't even sure if was a date, since I hadn't actually seen him in months and it didn't have a "date"-like feel. Man, I have no idea what gets into my head to make me think those kinds of things.
I should have been upfront. I should have immediately said something about being friends and indicating my lack of interest (perhaps made out with that cute guy reading at the bar) but I didn't. A few gallons of beer later, I even agreed to go to his apartment. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME? Everyone knows do not go to the place of a guy you don't like in that way. The Villiage Idiot could tell me that except apparently I'm the idiot.
But to be fair, I was drunk. Not a strong defense but true. And it was to play MarioKart. So there was like, a plan. His roommate was there, too. The three of us hung out, drank, smoked a little pot, ate some pizza. Until his roomie went to bed (that jerk) and FF decided to kiss me. Naturally I was taken aback, having been lulled into a false sense of friendship-security. At first I mumbled something about "hanging as friends" to which he (rightly) got angry.
"You knew I liked you," he said.
Well, yeah, and I guess I didn't do much to let him know I wasn't interested. I am the Queen of Mixed Signals. I apologized and called a cab, at which point I made the bigger mistake: I started explaining that I am a jerk, that I'm selfish, that I'm not in a place for a boyfriend because I'm focused on my internship across the country, etc. etc.
It's all pretty fuzzy from there, along with his very unhappy reaction to hearing my babbling "you're better off without me" speech. I may have mentioned that I wasn't attracted to him, I honestly don't remember.
So there. Anyone who's still reading this blog can clearly see why I'm still single: I'm an asshole.
I feel guilty, of course, but it is not the soul-crushing guilt that weighs on your shoulders and makes your stomach hurt all day. It is a mild, lighter guilt that I wasn't upfront and honest right away and that I'm sure he feels like a fool because of it.
Next time I'm just telling him I'm gay.
I should have been upfront. I should have immediately said something about being friends and indicating my lack of interest (perhaps made out with that cute guy reading at the bar) but I didn't. A few gallons of beer later, I even agreed to go to his apartment. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME? Everyone knows do not go to the place of a guy you don't like in that way. The Villiage Idiot could tell me that except apparently I'm the idiot.
But to be fair, I was drunk. Not a strong defense but true. And it was to play MarioKart. So there was like, a plan. His roommate was there, too. The three of us hung out, drank, smoked a little pot, ate some pizza. Until his roomie went to bed (that jerk) and FF decided to kiss me. Naturally I was taken aback, having been lulled into a false sense of friendship-security. At first I mumbled something about "hanging as friends" to which he (rightly) got angry.
"You knew I liked you," he said.
Well, yeah, and I guess I didn't do much to let him know I wasn't interested. I am the Queen of Mixed Signals. I apologized and called a cab, at which point I made the bigger mistake: I started explaining that I am a jerk, that I'm selfish, that I'm not in a place for a boyfriend because I'm focused on my internship across the country, etc. etc.
It's all pretty fuzzy from there, along with his very unhappy reaction to hearing my babbling "you're better off without me" speech. I may have mentioned that I wasn't attracted to him, I honestly don't remember.
So there. Anyone who's still reading this blog can clearly see why I'm still single: I'm an asshole.
I feel guilty, of course, but it is not the soul-crushing guilt that weighs on your shoulders and makes your stomach hurt all day. It is a mild, lighter guilt that I wasn't upfront and honest right away and that I'm sure he feels like a fool because of it.
Next time I'm just telling him I'm gay.
March 15, 2007
These Days
I have not posted in a while because I have nothing to post. No dates, no crushes, no funny e-mails from idiots.
I think this dating blog might just fizzle out before I ever truly get it started. Last week I met one of my heroes and got some great advice about getting my dream job, which sent me into a career-motivated spiral.
At the start of the year, I thought I was ready to really get down to dating business and get a boyfriend if it meant a year of bad dates and I figured this blog would be a good catharsis. But suddenly, I couldn't care less if I had a man in my life. I'm so excited about school and the future and my possible internship in New York that having a boyfriend has fallen to the bottom of the priority list.
Of course, I've heard that when you stop looking for those sorts of things is when they have the nasty habit of showing up. To that end, if anything does happen, I'll gladly share.
This isn't a "hey, I'm going on hiatus" note. It's just a "hey, sorry, I haven't had much to say and don't know when I will" type deal.
My favorite song this week is These Days by Mates of State (I think it might be a cover?). Lyrics: "I had a lover / I don't think I'll risk another these days." Good stuff.
On a good note, I haven't been this happy for a long time. It's been a great month and I finally feel like I'm headed in the right direction.
I think this dating blog might just fizzle out before I ever truly get it started. Last week I met one of my heroes and got some great advice about getting my dream job, which sent me into a career-motivated spiral.
At the start of the year, I thought I was ready to really get down to dating business and get a boyfriend if it meant a year of bad dates and I figured this blog would be a good catharsis. But suddenly, I couldn't care less if I had a man in my life. I'm so excited about school and the future and my possible internship in New York that having a boyfriend has fallen to the bottom of the priority list.
Of course, I've heard that when you stop looking for those sorts of things is when they have the nasty habit of showing up. To that end, if anything does happen, I'll gladly share.
This isn't a "hey, I'm going on hiatus" note. It's just a "hey, sorry, I haven't had much to say and don't know when I will" type deal.
My favorite song this week is These Days by Mates of State (I think it might be a cover?). Lyrics: "I had a lover / I don't think I'll risk another these days." Good stuff.
On a good note, I haven't been this happy for a long time. It's been a great month and I finally feel like I'm headed in the right direction.
March 5, 2007
Ill Repute
No dating news because - get this! - I'm sick. Chicken Soup and Kleenex sick. NyQuil and Couch Naps sick.
I felt it coming on all weekend, especially after some girlfriends (Blaine and Cherry) and I drank a pitcher too many at a local pub to celebrate...errr... well, I'm sure it was something. Maybe the fact that the tree of us hadn't been out together in a while. (Blaine, Cherry, and I always manage to get into trouble whenever we all go out together. Once we made out with a table of Canadian tourists. Another time we crashed a corporate bank party. It's always fun trouble but it hurts the next day.) This time, Cherry lost her cellphone. I went home after buying a six pack from the corner market-- the one where I could crawl in and still have them sell me booze. Then I broke a bottle all over my kitchen, which is a sign I was too drunk to drink it. I cut my toe.
I was a little hungover from the Friday night debauchery, but then Saturday night was a friend's birthday. We went to a swanky restaurant, drank swanky over-priced martinis, and then moved the party to a bar where we continued to drink for hours, which I'm sure didn't help matters. But it was her birthday, what're you gonna do? I couldn't exactly ask her to reschedule.
No guys on the horizon, although I saw DJ at school today. Sadly it was in passing. I asked how he was, he said good. "How are you doing?" he asked. "Pretty good," I said, and then as I left I was kicking myself for not saying 'Pretty Well' which would have been gramatically correct. Ugh. Feel like a total moron now, but I'm sick and the brain is foggy.
I felt it coming on all weekend, especially after some girlfriends (Blaine and Cherry) and I drank a pitcher too many at a local pub to celebrate...errr... well, I'm sure it was something. Maybe the fact that the tree of us hadn't been out together in a while. (Blaine, Cherry, and I always manage to get into trouble whenever we all go out together. Once we made out with a table of Canadian tourists. Another time we crashed a corporate bank party. It's always fun trouble but it hurts the next day.) This time, Cherry lost her cellphone. I went home after buying a six pack from the corner market-- the one where I could crawl in and still have them sell me booze. Then I broke a bottle all over my kitchen, which is a sign I was too drunk to drink it. I cut my toe.
I was a little hungover from the Friday night debauchery, but then Saturday night was a friend's birthday. We went to a swanky restaurant, drank swanky over-priced martinis, and then moved the party to a bar where we continued to drink for hours, which I'm sure didn't help matters. But it was her birthday, what're you gonna do? I couldn't exactly ask her to reschedule.
No guys on the horizon, although I saw DJ at school today. Sadly it was in passing. I asked how he was, he said good. "How are you doing?" he asked. "Pretty good," I said, and then as I left I was kicking myself for not saying 'Pretty Well' which would have been gramatically correct. Ugh. Feel like a total moron now, but I'm sick and the brain is foggy.
February 28, 2007
It's Not You, It's Me.
Today I was talking to a classmate about dating. Eric was joking around about the best way to impress girls and he told me this story:
Eric asked a girl out and within five minutes of the date, realized it was a mistake. For whatever reason (he did not elaborate), he didn't think they were at all compatible. Anyhow, their date was at an art museum. Once they got there, he went to a painting and stared at it. The girl came up next to him. He waited a bit and then moved on to the next painting or sculpture. She joined him again. Rinse, repeat.
As they left the museum, she turned to him and said, "Wow, that's really amazing. I've never met someone who actually appreciates the art and doesn't just take dates here to make out in dark corners." He drove her home and never saw her again, but she was ready to invite him up for "coffee".
The point is, she thought he was so interested in the artwork that he couldn't make conversation - when really he was just didn't want to talk to her. "So the secret to get girls in bed is to take them to a museum and ignore them til we're out," he concluded.
The scary thing? He's not wrong.
As a woman, I am not only impressed when a guy takes an interest in history or artwork, but I love guys that don't dote on me. Don't get me wrong, I like to be fawned over and brought flowers. As a narcissist, I love hearing how pretty/witty/awesome I am. But when I'm getting to know someone, I'm a bit put off by guys who are all googly-eyed over me right from the start. (I am not denying that I'm a freak of nature. Maybe most girls like it the other way around.) When someone I've only just met gets all gushy and sweet and lovey, it scares me. They come on too strong and I begin to hear alarm bells. "Weirdo Alert!" the bells scream.
This is why I tend to fall into relationships with friends - because we've had that natural "getting to know you" phase without all the "you're cuter," "no you are" crap. I'm just no good at it. I could flirt my way through a paper bag factory but when it comes to actual affection with people I hardly know, I shut down.
Eric's story just sort of made me realize why dating is so hard for me. With the right chemistry, I wouldn't mind a bit of intial gushiness, but I always end up on dates with guys I have little to no interest in, and their attraction to me completely turns me off. It's quite possible that because of my deeply embedded personality defects, I will end up as a crazy cat lady. But the whole point of this blog is to explore my experiences and issues and try to fix them.
Eric asked a girl out and within five minutes of the date, realized it was a mistake. For whatever reason (he did not elaborate), he didn't think they were at all compatible. Anyhow, their date was at an art museum. Once they got there, he went to a painting and stared at it. The girl came up next to him. He waited a bit and then moved on to the next painting or sculpture. She joined him again. Rinse, repeat.
As they left the museum, she turned to him and said, "Wow, that's really amazing. I've never met someone who actually appreciates the art and doesn't just take dates here to make out in dark corners." He drove her home and never saw her again, but she was ready to invite him up for "coffee".
The point is, she thought he was so interested in the artwork that he couldn't make conversation - when really he was just didn't want to talk to her. "So the secret to get girls in bed is to take them to a museum and ignore them til we're out," he concluded.
The scary thing? He's not wrong.
As a woman, I am not only impressed when a guy takes an interest in history or artwork, but I love guys that don't dote on me. Don't get me wrong, I like to be fawned over and brought flowers. As a narcissist, I love hearing how pretty/witty/awesome I am. But when I'm getting to know someone, I'm a bit put off by guys who are all googly-eyed over me right from the start. (I am not denying that I'm a freak of nature. Maybe most girls like it the other way around.) When someone I've only just met gets all gushy and sweet and lovey, it scares me. They come on too strong and I begin to hear alarm bells. "Weirdo Alert!" the bells scream.
This is why I tend to fall into relationships with friends - because we've had that natural "getting to know you" phase without all the "you're cuter," "no you are" crap. I'm just no good at it. I could flirt my way through a paper bag factory but when it comes to actual affection with people I hardly know, I shut down.
Eric's story just sort of made me realize why dating is so hard for me. With the right chemistry, I wouldn't mind a bit of intial gushiness, but I always end up on dates with guys I have little to no interest in, and their attraction to me completely turns me off. It's quite possible that because of my deeply embedded personality defects, I will end up as a crazy cat lady. But the whole point of this blog is to explore my experiences and issues and try to fix them.
February 26, 2007
Creepy and Disturbing
I know there are creeps out there but it's very rare they just tell you they're bonkers up-front. It should be refreshing. Instead I'm thinking about putting an extra lock on my door.
This old guy (57) introduced himself by saying he's too old and I don't match him much anyhow (44%) . Then he continues to babble on about how we should ignore that and meet anyway, because he's in love with me. Finally, he pulls out this little ramble, which I am hoping is an attempt to be funny. It isn't:
IF let's say an alien spacecraft landed on a dirt road in front of me while I was driving in Mississippi, and they used a hypno ray on me and scanned my memory to find wht female to also kidnap along with me to repopulate the Human race on some other planet cuz this one was about to blow up!!?... they would have to come and find you. Now, I wanted to apologize for that, I know its not fair, and I really should've asked you first, but no one expects aliens while driving on a dirt road in Mississippi do they?
Say it with me now: EWWWW!!
Creepy, gross, and icky. It's lucky I haven't showered yet this morning or I'd have to do it again. That's how dirty this feels. I want to send him an e-mail telling him to please jump in front of a bus. I blocked him and then tried to see if "blocked" means he can't see my profile at all (I suspect that it doesn't). Although the asshat has probably already saved my photos to his computer. Ick ick ick.
This old guy (57) introduced himself by saying he's too old and I don't match him much anyhow (44%) . Then he continues to babble on about how we should ignore that and meet anyway, because he's in love with me. Finally, he pulls out this little ramble, which I am hoping is an attempt to be funny. It isn't:
IF let's say an alien spacecraft landed on a dirt road in front of me while I was driving in Mississippi, and they used a hypno ray on me and scanned my memory to find wht female to also kidnap along with me to repopulate the Human race on some other planet cuz this one was about to blow up!!?... they would have to come and find you. Now, I wanted to apologize for that, I know its not fair, and I really should've asked you first, but no one expects aliens while driving on a dirt road in Mississippi do they?
Say it with me now: EWWWW!!
Creepy, gross, and icky. It's lucky I haven't showered yet this morning or I'd have to do it again. That's how dirty this feels. I want to send him an e-mail telling him to please jump in front of a bus. I blocked him and then tried to see if "blocked" means he can't see my profile at all (I suspect that it doesn't). Although the asshat has probably already saved my photos to his computer. Ick ick ick.
February 23, 2007
Back to the Regularly Scheduled Dating Blog
So OkCupid has been useless. The only emails I've received are lame missed-IM messages. I even tried to answer to one but the IM gadget thingy doesn't seem to work on my computer. It's probably better because I'd just get drunk and insult the idiots who IM me. "Hi, r u bored?" is a typical greeting. Most guys using stupid IM features on these types of sites either want to hook up immediately for a one-night stand or just want to talk dirty.
I made a brief attempt at mailing some of my matches myself, but most of the guys have pictures so close up they only show their eyes or are blurry and dark. I know it's shallow but if I can't even see your face, I'm not going to read a profile. If you're so hideous that you must lurk in the shadows like the Phantom of the Opera, get off the internet and go meet pissed-drunk girls at a bar.
What happened to the decent nerds on this site? Did they all pack up and move elsewhere? Maybe they all got girlfriends. Damn.
I still don't feel ambitious enough to throw down cash for Match or Nerve (besides, how to choose which site to go with?). Maybe next week.
PS: I am slow on the uptake but I just got Regina Spektor's album Begin to Hope and I have listened to the first song ("Fidelity") a hundred times on repeat. I'm the sort of person who finds a song, falls in love with it, and can't stop listening to it for weeks on end. I need that tee shirt that reads "Music is My Boyfriend" because it's true.
I made a brief attempt at mailing some of my matches myself, but most of the guys have pictures so close up they only show their eyes or are blurry and dark. I know it's shallow but if I can't even see your face, I'm not going to read a profile. If you're so hideous that you must lurk in the shadows like the Phantom of the Opera, get off the internet and go meet pissed-drunk girls at a bar.
What happened to the decent nerds on this site? Did they all pack up and move elsewhere? Maybe they all got girlfriends. Damn.
I still don't feel ambitious enough to throw down cash for Match or Nerve (besides, how to choose which site to go with?). Maybe next week.
PS: I am slow on the uptake but I just got Regina Spektor's album Begin to Hope and I have listened to the first song ("Fidelity") a hundred times on repeat. I'm the sort of person who finds a song, falls in love with it, and can't stop listening to it for weeks on end. I need that tee shirt that reads "Music is My Boyfriend" because it's true.
Doesn't Seem So Smart in Retrospect
Note to self: If you feel a cold coming and are craving Vitamin C, orange juice is a good idea. Mixing copious amounts of vodka into said juice might not be.
Just for the record, I'm not trying to offend anyone from Virginia. I love it there! It's beautiful (especially in the fall) and people are very friendly. However, a lot of people I've met from there and South Carolina are still a bit touchy about the Civil War, especially this guy I've dubbed "Virginia". That's not say it's racism (it isn't) because the war, to a lot of people, was about state's rights versus the supreme power of the Federal government.
And a commentor brought up a good point. "Sic Semper Tyrannis" is a lot cooler than Washington State's motto "alkai" which translates to "by and by". Not much conviction in that one, is there?
Crap, I'm running a bit late. I have to shower and get ready for work.
Just for the record, I'm not trying to offend anyone from Virginia. I love it there! It's beautiful (especially in the fall) and people are very friendly. However, a lot of people I've met from there and South Carolina are still a bit touchy about the Civil War, especially this guy I've dubbed "Virginia". That's not say it's racism (it isn't) because the war, to a lot of people, was about state's rights versus the supreme power of the Federal government.
And a commentor brought up a good point. "Sic Semper Tyrannis" is a lot cooler than Washington State's motto "alkai" which translates to "by and by". Not much conviction in that one, is there?
Crap, I'm running a bit late. I have to shower and get ready for work.
February 22, 2007
Celibate By Circumstance, Not Choice
I have not had sex in a long, long time. I'm sure I've set some sort of record broken only by Saints. It's bad. And I cannot stop lusting after Virginia.
He is a few years my senior, has spent lots of time bouncing around Community Colleges (as have I) and has even done a stint in the military (usually I hate military guys because, sadly, they fall into that bald-aggressive stereotype). He's a bit too Southern, being from the state whose motto John Wilkes Booth shouted after shooting Lincoln ("Sic Semper Tyrannis!"). And yet he's not racist, just a bit... stubborn. He believes in State's Rights and Free Speech, neither which I can disagree with until we hit the point about the Civil War, where these ideas clash. I'm a fan of Lincoln, by the way.
Never mind the politics. Virginia's fuse is short. I've seem him lose it, irrationally, a few times, and I've only known him for two months. He's a bit over-serious, a bit too emotional. I'm a woman, therefore I'm irrational and emotional thanks to hormones*, and I don't need that in a boyfriend. Besides which, I just don't see our interests intersecting enough to ever have anything.
And yet all day yesterday all I wanted to do was pin him to the ground and screw his brains out.
While that opportunity has not presented itself, I'm quite sure he'd be the type of guy I could sleep with casually. But it hasn't. And I'm too much of a pussy to intiate that sort of thing, especially since I have to see him at school. But I've caught him checking me out several times. He's flirty in that "I'm making excuses to talk to you but not going to admit it" way that some of the more timid guys seem to be. Sadly I'm just as pathetic and middle school in all my romantic pursuits and it's likely no one will make a move, not even for drinks and meaningless sex.
Maybe I just need to invest in a good vibrator.
*I don't know how it is for the rest of you ladies, but it's been suggested that perhaps I suffer an imbalance that worsens my PMS symptoms, though I've never had this officially checked out. This is a great topic for another post, actually.
He is a few years my senior, has spent lots of time bouncing around Community Colleges (as have I) and has even done a stint in the military (usually I hate military guys because, sadly, they fall into that bald-aggressive stereotype). He's a bit too Southern, being from the state whose motto John Wilkes Booth shouted after shooting Lincoln ("Sic Semper Tyrannis!"). And yet he's not racist, just a bit... stubborn. He believes in State's Rights and Free Speech, neither which I can disagree with until we hit the point about the Civil War, where these ideas clash. I'm a fan of Lincoln, by the way.
Never mind the politics. Virginia's fuse is short. I've seem him lose it, irrationally, a few times, and I've only known him for two months. He's a bit over-serious, a bit too emotional. I'm a woman, therefore I'm irrational and emotional thanks to hormones*, and I don't need that in a boyfriend. Besides which, I just don't see our interests intersecting enough to ever have anything.
And yet all day yesterday all I wanted to do was pin him to the ground and screw his brains out.
While that opportunity has not presented itself, I'm quite sure he'd be the type of guy I could sleep with casually. But it hasn't. And I'm too much of a pussy to intiate that sort of thing, especially since I have to see him at school. But I've caught him checking me out several times. He's flirty in that "I'm making excuses to talk to you but not going to admit it" way that some of the more timid guys seem to be. Sadly I'm just as pathetic and middle school in all my romantic pursuits and it's likely no one will make a move, not even for drinks and meaningless sex.
Maybe I just need to invest in a good vibrator.
*I don't know how it is for the rest of you ladies, but it's been suggested that perhaps I suffer an imbalance that worsens my PMS symptoms, though I've never had this officially checked out. This is a great topic for another post, actually.
February 21, 2007
something's got to break you down
I have a crush.
I've only met him twice, so as far as I know he could be married or have a girlfriend or even be gay (my gaydar sucks) or possibly all three given my luck.
He's intelligent and nerdy but about fun stuff, like radio, politics, and books. He wears glasses (which for some reason I love - why I tend to like men in specs is a mystery to me) and does crosswords. *sigh* He's a little too skinny and he's tall, both of which are accentuated by his baggy tee shirts. I'll call him DJ for future reference (though he is not, as far as I know, an actual disc jockey.)
Anyhow, it's just one of those Smitten-From-Afar things, but I figured I'd share. Because crushes make me happy. (And I rarely seem to have them these days, or when I do they are shallow and fleeting and easily disappear. This one is tiny but it's powerful.)
I've only met him twice, so as far as I know he could be married or have a girlfriend or even be gay (my gaydar sucks) or possibly all three given my luck.
He's intelligent and nerdy but about fun stuff, like radio, politics, and books. He wears glasses (which for some reason I love - why I tend to like men in specs is a mystery to me) and does crosswords. *sigh* He's a little too skinny and he's tall, both of which are accentuated by his baggy tee shirts. I'll call him DJ for future reference (though he is not, as far as I know, an actual disc jockey.)
Anyhow, it's just one of those Smitten-From-Afar things, but I figured I'd share. Because crushes make me happy. (And I rarely seem to have them these days, or when I do they are shallow and fleeting and easily disappear. This one is tiny but it's powerful.)
February 18, 2007
Artifacts and Presidents' Day
A month ago my Best Girlfriend Ever visited from a few states away. She wanted some ice cream late at night. I rummaged through my freezer. All I found was a year-old ice cream sandwich purchased by The Ex during a beer-run. "You need to throw that away," she told me. "It's sick to keep it."
She was right. BGE is wise. But I couldn't. And truthfully, I still haven't. Just like I've kept the tie he lent to me when I was working banquets and needed one. Not because I'm not over him--quite the opposite--but because I am sentimental and nostalgic. Because though I no longer miss him or wish it had been different, I like to remember the good times. Obviously the good times did not equal a relationship that would last but it was fun while it lasted. I know it's important to move on, I don't doubt that for a second. But I can't throw away that damn ice cream because I can picture the day he bought it like it was yesterday. It's so much less about him and so much about the happy memories, the idea that that sort of happiness is possible.
Anyhow, tonight I drank my remaining stash of beer (3 in total, since I'd drunk the other half of that 6-pack a few days ago) and was looking in my fridge for more. In the back, lo-and-behold, was a Heineken. So old and purchased so long ago that I can remember the date it was bought. Well over two years ago, way back when me and the Ex were just friends. It's skunky and undrinkable for sure, but I pulled it out and all the thoughts came rushing back. We played Nintendo games all night and he tickled me to the ground. He went for a beer run and bought this crap. And as much as I want nothing to do with him now, I can't throw out his goddamn ice cream sandwich.
I opened the beer. It smells okay but I'm probably too drunk to notice. It tastes okay but I don't drink Heineken enough to tell and it's too old to really be all right. If I get a stomach ache, it will serve me right.*
I have gotten past this point of sadness, but I am like a museum curator -- I like to perserve the past for what it was not what it will be. So on this Presidents' Day I would like to state for the record: The preservation of one's history is not always a memorial for what has occured, but is sometimes a reminder of what one should avoid. And learning from mistakes means we won't repeat them.
Let's hope that proves true, both in my dating life and in this nation's future.
*Just to be clear--because I realize I wasn't at first--I didn't drink the beer. I took a few sips to see if it was at all drinkable even though I knew it wasn't, then I poured it down the drain because, you know, it wasn't. But a few sips of an ancient beer is enough to give you a tummy ache, I'm sure.
She was right. BGE is wise. But I couldn't. And truthfully, I still haven't. Just like I've kept the tie he lent to me when I was working banquets and needed one. Not because I'm not over him--quite the opposite--but because I am sentimental and nostalgic. Because though I no longer miss him or wish it had been different, I like to remember the good times. Obviously the good times did not equal a relationship that would last but it was fun while it lasted. I know it's important to move on, I don't doubt that for a second. But I can't throw away that damn ice cream because I can picture the day he bought it like it was yesterday. It's so much less about him and so much about the happy memories, the idea that that sort of happiness is possible.
Anyhow, tonight I drank my remaining stash of beer (3 in total, since I'd drunk the other half of that 6-pack a few days ago) and was looking in my fridge for more. In the back, lo-and-behold, was a Heineken. So old and purchased so long ago that I can remember the date it was bought. Well over two years ago, way back when me and the Ex were just friends. It's skunky and undrinkable for sure, but I pulled it out and all the thoughts came rushing back. We played Nintendo games all night and he tickled me to the ground. He went for a beer run and bought this crap. And as much as I want nothing to do with him now, I can't throw out his goddamn ice cream sandwich.
I opened the beer. It smells okay but I'm probably too drunk to notice. It tastes okay but I don't drink Heineken enough to tell and it's too old to really be all right. If I get a stomach ache, it will serve me right.*
I have gotten past this point of sadness, but I am like a museum curator -- I like to perserve the past for what it was not what it will be. So on this Presidents' Day I would like to state for the record: The preservation of one's history is not always a memorial for what has occured, but is sometimes a reminder of what one should avoid. And learning from mistakes means we won't repeat them.
Let's hope that proves true, both in my dating life and in this nation's future.
*Just to be clear--because I realize I wasn't at first--I didn't drink the beer. I took a few sips to see if it was at all drinkable even though I knew it wasn't, then I poured it down the drain because, you know, it wasn't. But a few sips of an ancient beer is enough to give you a tummy ache, I'm sure.
February 16, 2007
Nightmares and Dreamscapes
One of the things about being single and living alone that is not often discussed is the Nightmare Paradox. It is not scientifically a paradox, mind you, but it sounds cooler than "nightmare problem".
Because of a certain medical problem, I've been watching a lot of TV. (Okay, damn it, I broke my leg a few months ago and am at the tail end of recovery. That's why I've been putting off dating - I do want to get back into it but the big ugly brace is no turn on, nor is hobbling around, plus I've gained a good solid 15 pounds from sitting on my ass. The leg wasn't supposed to take this long to heal.) So much TV that at some point it started to mess with my head. Especially bad are late-night marathons of The X-Files or reruns of Law and Order. Too many of these types of show start infesting my subconscious and suddenly I'm having crazy nightmares about aliens and supernatural killers.
Which is fine. I'm a big girl. They're just dreams. I wake up, get some water, go back to sleep. But sometimes that creepy feeling doesn't want to go away. When I'm not pathetically single, sleeping next to someone makes it easier to shake nightmares and tell myself "hey, X-files is fiction, you're being silly, there is no monster hiding in your closet, go back to sleep!" However, being by myself with a refrigerator that makes funky noises and a dark, empty apartment is less forgiving.
Okay, I'm going back to bed now. There is nothing under the bed. Really, I am too old for this.
Because of a certain medical problem, I've been watching a lot of TV. (Okay, damn it, I broke my leg a few months ago and am at the tail end of recovery. That's why I've been putting off dating - I do want to get back into it but the big ugly brace is no turn on, nor is hobbling around, plus I've gained a good solid 15 pounds from sitting on my ass. The leg wasn't supposed to take this long to heal.) So much TV that at some point it started to mess with my head. Especially bad are late-night marathons of The X-Files or reruns of Law and Order. Too many of these types of show start infesting my subconscious and suddenly I'm having crazy nightmares about aliens and supernatural killers.
Which is fine. I'm a big girl. They're just dreams. I wake up, get some water, go back to sleep. But sometimes that creepy feeling doesn't want to go away. When I'm not pathetically single, sleeping next to someone makes it easier to shake nightmares and tell myself "hey, X-files is fiction, you're being silly, there is no monster hiding in your closet, go back to sleep!" However, being by myself with a refrigerator that makes funky noises and a dark, empty apartment is less forgiving.
Okay, I'm going back to bed now. There is nothing under the bed. Really, I am too old for this.
February 11, 2007
valentine's day plans (ugh)
You know what sucks?
Not only am I totally single and alone this Valentine's Day, but I get to spend the evening in my stupid math class.
I win the Bad V-Day Plans award. I guess I'll have to get a large bottle of cheap wine to greet me when I get home from dividing fractions at 9 pm.
PS, this bit from Not A Girl, Not Yet a Wino on (lack of) weight loss is brilliant, especially the bit about drinking. God knows that's my downfall.
Not only am I totally single and alone this Valentine's Day, but I get to spend the evening in my stupid math class.
I win the Bad V-Day Plans award. I guess I'll have to get a large bottle of cheap wine to greet me when I get home from dividing fractions at 9 pm.
PS, this bit from Not A Girl, Not Yet a Wino on (lack of) weight loss is brilliant, especially the bit about drinking. God knows that's my downfall.
February 9, 2007
bad e-mails and monogamy
I spoke too soon regarding the lack of OkCupid mail despite having indicated an "unavailable" status. (Which is still untrue, sadly, but am taking a break from internet dating.)
Again I logged in via taking a quiz and there were 3 new messages. None of them acknowledge that it says "seeing someone" in bold letters at the top of my profile rather than "single". Perhaps they're hoping I'll break up, log on, and in a desperate attempt to find a rebounder contact them for a one night stand. I don't know.
The first two are the standard "you're cool, check my profile and write me back!" letters. One doesn't have a photo and the other lives hours away but is "moving here soon". I understand the impulse to make friends in a new city before you move there but really, I'm not interested.
The third was from a married man who explains he has a "polyamorous relationship" and is looking for someone he can "enjoy over dinner and in the bedroom". He writes:
I don't want a one night stand, nothing cheap, but it doesn't have to be serious. I'm not too demanding. Basically, I want a woman who is whip-smart, attractive, like-minded, and a friend that I can share some laughs with, some thoughts, and some sensual moments.
Um, no thanks. (Nevermind the married thing, he's fifteen years older than me and not attractive at all). At least he's open about the situation rather than prowling for women under the guise of singledom only to let them in on his lifestyle after a few dates and/or sleeping with them.
I'm happy for people who can sucessfully be in these sorts of open relationships. If it makes them happy, good for them. But I will never understand it. No, humans are not biologically prone to monogamy, or they weren't thousands of years ago. Nowadays we have a society in which monogamy is standard and typical (at least in theory).
Call me selfish, but I want a man who is enough for me and vice versa. My few boyfriends have been guys that I really liked (one that I loved) so much that when I was with them, the idea of being with other people wasn't appealing. Sure, I loved to look at other attractive guys and was still as flirty as usual (it's just part of my personality, damn it!), but the only guy I wanted to be with was the boyfriend. He was allowed to check out other women too - the looking or even mild friendly flirting is perfectly fine. Crossing that line and getting physical? Not so much.
Maybe I'm old fashion or brainwashed by movies but I believe this is completely possible and I will accept nothing less. Obviously it's different when you first meet but once you're in an established relationship, seeing other people should cease.
Anyhow, done ranting now. Tonight (or I should say, This Afternoon) I'm meeting the girls for cocktails. Drunken debauchery and antics will ensue. Happy Friday!
Again I logged in via taking a quiz and there were 3 new messages. None of them acknowledge that it says "seeing someone" in bold letters at the top of my profile rather than "single". Perhaps they're hoping I'll break up, log on, and in a desperate attempt to find a rebounder contact them for a one night stand. I don't know.
The first two are the standard "you're cool, check my profile and write me back!" letters. One doesn't have a photo and the other lives hours away but is "moving here soon". I understand the impulse to make friends in a new city before you move there but really, I'm not interested.
The third was from a married man who explains he has a "polyamorous relationship" and is looking for someone he can "enjoy over dinner and in the bedroom". He writes:
I don't want a one night stand, nothing cheap, but it doesn't have to be serious. I'm not too demanding. Basically, I want a woman who is whip-smart, attractive, like-minded, and a friend that I can share some laughs with, some thoughts, and some sensual moments.
Um, no thanks. (Nevermind the married thing, he's fifteen years older than me and not attractive at all). At least he's open about the situation rather than prowling for women under the guise of singledom only to let them in on his lifestyle after a few dates and/or sleeping with them.
I'm happy for people who can sucessfully be in these sorts of open relationships. If it makes them happy, good for them. But I will never understand it. No, humans are not biologically prone to monogamy, or they weren't thousands of years ago. Nowadays we have a society in which monogamy is standard and typical (at least in theory).
Call me selfish, but I want a man who is enough for me and vice versa. My few boyfriends have been guys that I really liked (one that I loved) so much that when I was with them, the idea of being with other people wasn't appealing. Sure, I loved to look at other attractive guys and was still as flirty as usual (it's just part of my personality, damn it!), but the only guy I wanted to be with was the boyfriend. He was allowed to check out other women too - the looking or even mild friendly flirting is perfectly fine. Crossing that line and getting physical? Not so much.
Maybe I'm old fashion or brainwashed by movies but I believe this is completely possible and I will accept nothing less. Obviously it's different when you first meet but once you're in an established relationship, seeing other people should cease.
Anyhow, done ranting now. Tonight (or I should say, This Afternoon) I'm meeting the girls for cocktails. Drunken debauchery and antics will ensue. Happy Friday!
February 7, 2007
the joy of drinking (too much)
The older I get, the more hangovers strike me down like bolts of lightening from the hands of Dionysus himself. Wait, Zeus was the lightening guy right? Or was it Thor? My head is too fuzzy and pounding to bother looking it up.
I didn't even drink that much last night (well, not as much as I might have in other circumstances) and I was home by 11. Gone are the days when I could stay up with friends drinking pint after pint till 2 am, only to hop in the shower and get to work by 5 am, barely flinching. Now a drinking a pitcher--even followed by a few glasses of water and some asprin--leaves me feeling like a truck ran me over all day long. What happened to hangovers that faded by noon? What's this 12-hour crap? Aging sucks.
On a happy note, thanks Milwaukee Girl for the blog shout out! Welcome to all new visitors! Pull up chair, grab a cup of tea, and stay for a while. Just don't make a lot of noise, my hungover head can't take it.
I didn't even drink that much last night (well, not as much as I might have in other circumstances) and I was home by 11. Gone are the days when I could stay up with friends drinking pint after pint till 2 am, only to hop in the shower and get to work by 5 am, barely flinching. Now a drinking a pitcher--even followed by a few glasses of water and some asprin--leaves me feeling like a truck ran me over all day long. What happened to hangovers that faded by noon? What's this 12-hour crap? Aging sucks.
On a happy note, thanks Milwaukee Girl for the blog shout out! Welcome to all new visitors! Pull up chair, grab a cup of tea, and stay for a while. Just don't make a lot of noise, my hungover head can't take it.
February 5, 2007
my math teacher hates me
Like many people who have hopped from community college to community college, I have an exceptional number of college credits, not one of them math. At least none of the transferable ones. In other words, I am exactly one math class short of an AA but because the remedial-get-to-the-stastics classes I took at my old school don't transfer, I am stuck retaking them.
Because it had been three years since my last algebra class, I bombed the placement test. I cannot retake it for 90 days, so, the school reasons, I might as well start taking the long chain of math classes I'll need before I get the one class I actually need. Make sense?*
My class is the lowest one and worse, it's a night class. This means I am stuck in a room with two dozen them middle-aged people who have not seen a multiplication problem since the days of the abacus. The reason my math teacher hates me is that I am obviously annoyed and frustrated in the class. I have a pronounced lack of patience and a habit of rolling my eyes - these are deep personality flaws and I'm trying to fix them. If I groan a little when someone asks, for the fifth time, what an exponent is, it's an unconcious reaction to the torture that is Math 180.
The teacher will not, for any reason, give us the homework until the very end of class, so in order to keep up a good grade I'm forced to sit there through the lectures and day dream about jumping out the window. Meanwhile the book explains everything like it was written for third graders (I have a suspicion it was) so even if I get confused, it takes me half a second to look it up. It is not my classmates' faults that they don't get how to add fractions or divide decimals and that's what the teacher is there for; however, I do get it and don't need to stick around banging my head on the desk and wishing she would give me the damn assignment already so I can go home, crack a beer, and watch Wife Swap.
Someday soon I will actually post about dating. As soon as my dating life actually starts up again.
*No, actually, it's bullshit, but sadly that is the system.
Because it had been three years since my last algebra class, I bombed the placement test. I cannot retake it for 90 days, so, the school reasons, I might as well start taking the long chain of math classes I'll need before I get the one class I actually need. Make sense?*
My class is the lowest one and worse, it's a night class. This means I am stuck in a room with two dozen them middle-aged people who have not seen a multiplication problem since the days of the abacus. The reason my math teacher hates me is that I am obviously annoyed and frustrated in the class. I have a pronounced lack of patience and a habit of rolling my eyes - these are deep personality flaws and I'm trying to fix them. If I groan a little when someone asks, for the fifth time, what an exponent is, it's an unconcious reaction to the torture that is Math 180.
The teacher will not, for any reason, give us the homework until the very end of class, so in order to keep up a good grade I'm forced to sit there through the lectures and day dream about jumping out the window. Meanwhile the book explains everything like it was written for third graders (I have a suspicion it was) so even if I get confused, it takes me half a second to look it up. It is not my classmates' faults that they don't get how to add fractions or divide decimals and that's what the teacher is there for; however, I do get it and don't need to stick around banging my head on the desk and wishing she would give me the damn assignment already so I can go home, crack a beer, and watch Wife Swap.
Someday soon I will actually post about dating. As soon as my dating life actually starts up again.
*No, actually, it's bullshit, but sadly that is the system.
February 4, 2007
Why MySpace Should Be Destroyed
Seriously, MySpace is a like a robot. Its inventor had good intentions but soon it was out of control and now it cannot be saved, it must be destroyed. I really need to stop falling asleep to the Sci-Fi Channel.
Yes, I use MySpace. I got suckered in a while ago, made a profile, and put up a few photos. My friends and I send each other stupid comments or YouTube videos or disturbing pictures of David Hassolhoff. This is not our main form of communication but it's a good way to make each other laugh when we're bored. It's silly but it's harmless fun. My profile indicates I'm just there for friends and networking and I hardly add people I haven't met in person as a friend.
For the record, I do not have a problem with retarded bulletins (easily ignored) or countless friend requests from stupid indie bands (easily deleted). Even the dumb "I Like Your Profile" e-mails are good for a laugh.
The main problem with MySpace (and sites like it) is that it creates a Casual Internet Society with an overblown sense of false familiarity. Here are two tips for MySpace users, care of me, because apparently some of you need to be told the obvious:
1. Just because you've read my profile does not mean you actually know me. Sure, you know what movies I love or what TV shows I watch, and what's in my CD player. This does not make us instant best friends, especially if we've never met in person. There are hundreds of different people who like many of the same things.
2. Even if the site indicates I'm "online," I am not necessarily at my computer. I have a mild form of ADD, wherein I get distracted easily. Seriously, wave a shiny object in front of my face and I'll lose my train of thought. This means that I'll often walk away from my computer while logged on to sites like MySpace and do something else entirely. Sometimes I leave for work and all day MySpace broadcasts "online now!" when I'm miles away. This is a problem when people send me messages like "hey, you bored? let's go get a drink!" expecting me to get them immediately, when really I get them a day later. Said guy gets offended, etc. etc. Look, if you want to contact me send a text message. I'm ten times more likely to get that.
There, I've aired my grievences. Time for some beer and some football.
Happy Superbowl Sunday!!
Yes, I use MySpace. I got suckered in a while ago, made a profile, and put up a few photos. My friends and I send each other stupid comments or YouTube videos or disturbing pictures of David Hassolhoff. This is not our main form of communication but it's a good way to make each other laugh when we're bored. It's silly but it's harmless fun. My profile indicates I'm just there for friends and networking and I hardly add people I haven't met in person as a friend.
For the record, I do not have a problem with retarded bulletins (easily ignored) or countless friend requests from stupid indie bands (easily deleted). Even the dumb "I Like Your Profile" e-mails are good for a laugh.
The main problem with MySpace (and sites like it) is that it creates a Casual Internet Society with an overblown sense of false familiarity. Here are two tips for MySpace users, care of me, because apparently some of you need to be told the obvious:
1. Just because you've read my profile does not mean you actually know me. Sure, you know what movies I love or what TV shows I watch, and what's in my CD player. This does not make us instant best friends, especially if we've never met in person. There are hundreds of different people who like many of the same things.
2. Even if the site indicates I'm "online," I am not necessarily at my computer. I have a mild form of ADD, wherein I get distracted easily. Seriously, wave a shiny object in front of my face and I'll lose my train of thought. This means that I'll often walk away from my computer while logged on to sites like MySpace and do something else entirely. Sometimes I leave for work and all day MySpace broadcasts "online now!" when I'm miles away. This is a problem when people send me messages like "hey, you bored? let's go get a drink!" expecting me to get them immediately, when really I get them a day later. Said guy gets offended, etc. etc. Look, if you want to contact me send a text message. I'm ten times more likely to get that.
There, I've aired my grievences. Time for some beer and some football.
Happy Superbowl Sunday!!
February 2, 2007
Pleasantly Surprised
OkCupid.com has a lot of personality tests created by users and these are often linked to in blogs. Since my account is set to save my password and automatically log me in, every time I click someone's link to take a quiz (like "Which Ghostbuster Are You?" or "The 1776 Trivia Test") I get logged in.
This morning, when I clicked on such a test, I was happy to see that I had no new mail in my OkCupid Inbox. Last week I set my profile to "Seeing Someone" which isn't true but I need a break from bad internet dates. I expected, for some reason, that this would not stop people from e-mailing me on the site or even asking me out. So I am pleasantly surprised to announce that even on a free, slightly-sleazy net dating site like OkCupid, unavailability doesn't inspire men to send "if you break up" or "if you're not serious" date requests.
Part of me is a bit shocked at the level of etiquette and lack of creeps who would try to make a move despite my "taken" status. Which speaks volumes about my level of cynacism regarding these sites in the first place, I suppose.
This morning, when I clicked on such a test, I was happy to see that I had no new mail in my OkCupid Inbox. Last week I set my profile to "Seeing Someone" which isn't true but I need a break from bad internet dates. I expected, for some reason, that this would not stop people from e-mailing me on the site or even asking me out. So I am pleasantly surprised to announce that even on a free, slightly-sleazy net dating site like OkCupid, unavailability doesn't inspire men to send "if you break up" or "if you're not serious" date requests.
Part of me is a bit shocked at the level of etiquette and lack of creeps who would try to make a move despite my "taken" status. Which speaks volumes about my level of cynacism regarding these sites in the first place, I suppose.
February 1, 2007
well that was fast!
I am drinking a martini and watching Jeopardy! when it hits me: I have become my grandmother.
That's right. I completely skipped over becoming my mother and became Nana.
When Nana would visit, we'd sit in the orange chair. She'd drink a gin martini and let me eat the olives. We'd do word-finds or crosswords and watch Murder, She Wrote and game shows together.
I prefer vodka to gin, but otherwise, Nana, I'm the new you! Now if only I could meet a nice, sweet man like Grampa and get married and live happily ever after.
That's right. I completely skipped over becoming my mother and became Nana.
When Nana would visit, we'd sit in the orange chair. She'd drink a gin martini and let me eat the olives. We'd do word-finds or crosswords and watch Murder, She Wrote and game shows together.
I prefer vodka to gin, but otherwise, Nana, I'm the new you! Now if only I could meet a nice, sweet man like Grampa and get married and live happily ever after.
January 28, 2007
Congratulations, Universe. You win.
"The only you love and the one who loves you are never, ever the same person." - Chuck Palahniuk
A guy in my class likes me but it is not Virigina. Naturally.
Tech--a self proclaimed tech geek--is not my type in more ways than I can explain. He's over thirty, he's bald, he's overweight, he has a weird voice. He is nice, and smart, and I like him as a classmate and as someone to play video games with. Otherwise, I'm not interested. Most of his stories go back to his long military experience. (Virginia also served in the army for a short time and though I know little about it, it doesn't seem like he's one of those brain-washed army guys. You know the type I mean.)
Tech has been tugging my pigtails in class like a fifth grader. Today he tried to flirt via text message which was bad timing on his part. Late last night, he accidentally texted me a line about "you're too drunk to drive - call me when you're done and I'll pick you up." Obviously it wasn't meant for me -- not that there aren't times where that sort of thing is more than appropriate. A few minutes later he texted back apologizing for the mistake. "Oops, Lady, your number is right next to my friend's." Awesome.
I should say, he only has my number because of our class' contact list, so the fact that he apparently programmed my number into his phone at all is slightly aggravating. Needless to say I don't have his number in my phone so I had no idea who the text was from (could have been from a whole list of people - I lost my cellphone recently and a lot of numbers with it).
This morning I sent a quick reply, mentioned it happens to everyone, and left it at that. He asked if I knew who he was. I said no but didn't ask. Needed coffee, not dumb phone games. He sent: "That makes it kinda more fun. You must be curious who would have your number programmed when they're not in your phone."
Annoyed, I sent back a "not really." I assumed it was a past bad date whose number I no longer had and got more annoyed. He responded by offering to play a game of 20 questions so I could guess who it was. I stopped answering after that, though I wanted to send a "not interested, jackass," or a "who the hell do you think you are, asshat?" My silence worked and the texts stopped.
Hours later, I figured out it was Tech when I was looking for someone else's e-mail and saw the familiar number on the list. I was glad it wasn't Virginia since the exchange ticked me off but it means the bits of flirting from Tech aren't in my head like I'd been hoping. Bummer. Why can't the guy I like be the one who likes me? Just every so often, like maybe twice a year. Is that really too much to ask, Universe?
And what makes it worse is that game guys sometimes play, the Claim a Chick or whatever. You know, when Guy1 says, "I like Megan," and no one else can ask Megan out because Guy1 "staked his claim" even though Megan thinks he's repulsive and likes Guy2 or Guy4. I know girls kind of do that too but guys are more adament about it.
I am so close to giving up and getting a cat.
A guy in my class likes me but it is not Virigina. Naturally.
Tech--a self proclaimed tech geek--is not my type in more ways than I can explain. He's over thirty, he's bald, he's overweight, he has a weird voice. He is nice, and smart, and I like him as a classmate and as someone to play video games with. Otherwise, I'm not interested. Most of his stories go back to his long military experience. (Virginia also served in the army for a short time and though I know little about it, it doesn't seem like he's one of those brain-washed army guys. You know the type I mean.)
Tech has been tugging my pigtails in class like a fifth grader. Today he tried to flirt via text message which was bad timing on his part. Late last night, he accidentally texted me a line about "you're too drunk to drive - call me when you're done and I'll pick you up." Obviously it wasn't meant for me -- not that there aren't times where that sort of thing is more than appropriate. A few minutes later he texted back apologizing for the mistake. "Oops, Lady, your number is right next to my friend's." Awesome.
I should say, he only has my number because of our class' contact list, so the fact that he apparently programmed my number into his phone at all is slightly aggravating. Needless to say I don't have his number in my phone so I had no idea who the text was from (could have been from a whole list of people - I lost my cellphone recently and a lot of numbers with it).
This morning I sent a quick reply, mentioned it happens to everyone, and left it at that. He asked if I knew who he was. I said no but didn't ask. Needed coffee, not dumb phone games. He sent: "That makes it kinda more fun. You must be curious who would have your number programmed when they're not in your phone."
Annoyed, I sent back a "not really." I assumed it was a past bad date whose number I no longer had and got more annoyed. He responded by offering to play a game of 20 questions so I could guess who it was. I stopped answering after that, though I wanted to send a "not interested, jackass," or a "who the hell do you think you are, asshat?" My silence worked and the texts stopped.
Hours later, I figured out it was Tech when I was looking for someone else's e-mail and saw the familiar number on the list. I was glad it wasn't Virginia since the exchange ticked me off but it means the bits of flirting from Tech aren't in my head like I'd been hoping. Bummer. Why can't the guy I like be the one who likes me? Just every so often, like maybe twice a year. Is that really too much to ask, Universe?
And what makes it worse is that game guys sometimes play, the Claim a Chick or whatever. You know, when Guy1 says, "I like Megan," and no one else can ask Megan out because Guy1 "staked his claim" even though Megan thinks he's repulsive and likes Guy2 or Guy4. I know girls kind of do that too but guys are more adament about it.
I am so close to giving up and getting a cat.
January 27, 2007
Miscommunication
I had fun on my "date" with Vimes. I am still unsure if it was a date, especially since midway through he took a phone call at the bar and made plans for after we left with a group of friends. In a casual way you would with a friend.
Vimes, as I'll call him, is a nice guy. He's able to hold a conversation and seems to enjoy my company and beer. We have good conversations. Tonight I got to the bar early. I read until he showed up (about ten minutes "late" although we had said 4ish, not four o'clock) and we had three rounds. He insisted on getting the tab. "I work at [Big Company] now. I can afford it." It was sweet.
The only complaint I have is that again, Vimes is negative. He complains about his lack of TV, his lack of friends in Seattle, his lack of hobbies. Perhaps he doesn't realize how he sounds.
Lord knows that I am Queen of TMI, especially when nervous or insecure, so I rattle off lists of information that is not relevant. I never realized how it came off until one night I was hanging out with the Ex (while we were still together) and a group of friends playing games. At the end of the night, to fill a gap in conversation, I mentioned how I had broken my CD player at the gym and wouldn't have music to walk to work the next day. I was not complaining, just stating it as a fact that was on my mind; besides, I thought it was sort of funny how it went flying from my hands on the treadmill. I was met with silence and blank stares. A few days later, the Ex and I were arguing and he mentioned the CD players story. He said, "You always do that. You just complain about stuff all the time and no one knows what to say."
I was stunned. I had never thought of it that way. Verbal vomit may spew forth from my mouth but it's not an attempt to garner sympathy or be a whiner; I just like the sound of my own voice. Still, without that comment, I might never have realized how those types of things sounded to other people. While I haven't made huge progress in mentally monitoring what comes out of my mouth, I've made a conscious effort to avoid sounding differently than I intend. (I still end up with my foot in my mouth constantly but at least I realize it.)
Vimes probably suffers from this lack of self-awareness. Or maybe he's just a pessimisstic whiner. I don't know.
Vimes, as I'll call him, is a nice guy. He's able to hold a conversation and seems to enjoy my company and beer. We have good conversations. Tonight I got to the bar early. I read until he showed up (about ten minutes "late" although we had said 4ish, not four o'clock) and we had three rounds. He insisted on getting the tab. "I work at [Big Company] now. I can afford it." It was sweet.
The only complaint I have is that again, Vimes is negative. He complains about his lack of TV, his lack of friends in Seattle, his lack of hobbies. Perhaps he doesn't realize how he sounds.
Lord knows that I am Queen of TMI, especially when nervous or insecure, so I rattle off lists of information that is not relevant. I never realized how it came off until one night I was hanging out with the Ex (while we were still together) and a group of friends playing games. At the end of the night, to fill a gap in conversation, I mentioned how I had broken my CD player at the gym and wouldn't have music to walk to work the next day. I was not complaining, just stating it as a fact that was on my mind; besides, I thought it was sort of funny how it went flying from my hands on the treadmill. I was met with silence and blank stares. A few days later, the Ex and I were arguing and he mentioned the CD players story. He said, "You always do that. You just complain about stuff all the time and no one knows what to say."
I was stunned. I had never thought of it that way. Verbal vomit may spew forth from my mouth but it's not an attempt to garner sympathy or be a whiner; I just like the sound of my own voice. Still, without that comment, I might never have realized how those types of things sounded to other people. While I haven't made huge progress in mentally monitoring what comes out of my mouth, I've made a conscious effort to avoid sounding differently than I intend. (I still end up with my foot in my mouth constantly but at least I realize it.)
Vimes probably suffers from this lack of self-awareness. Or maybe he's just a pessimisstic whiner. I don't know.
Pre-Date Show
I have a date this afternoon. At least I think it's a date. (Oh god, I don't even know.) It's with a guy I met from MySpace, god help me, though I've met up with him for a drink before. I can't remember who initiated contact but I assume it was him since I don't troll MySpace for friends, let alone dates. After months of replying to each other's blogs or comments, he asked me to meet up for a beer. We had a good time (and several beers). I made both him and the bartender laugh with my whacky "I Hate Waiting Tables" stories but I felt that I was doing the majority of the talking. I tend to be a conversation hog so I can't fault him. We had fun but no sparks.
Plus he tends to be a pessimistic downer which is one of my dealbreakers. One point in our conversation, he said, "I just don't have anything to do since I stopped smoking pot. I just sit around and do nothing..." Then he looked at me for an answer. I shrugged. "Find a hobby, something you love to do." I hate guys without inspiration or imagination. He's the type of person that wants someone to raise his spirits for him and that's not a burden I want to shoulder. Maybe he was just going through a bad week but you shouldn't bring baggage to a date (or a drink with a stranger).
So why the hell am I going out with him again? I'm socially retarded.
We met up in December but he was starting a new job and I was leaving for the holidays, so any future plans wouldn't be for over a month, and I love to procrastinate. When he said, "We should meet up again," I agreed. And we did have fun, even if I found myself more amusing than I found him.
It's also another case of "I blew him off, I blew him off, I owe him a date." As in he's asked me a few times and I've had an excuse ready - I was sick, I was too busy, etc. Never did I just say "No thanks." Also, because I wasn't sure if it was a date the first time around, I didn't want to say "I'll gladly have another drink with you but only as friends."
I've been so anti-social lately that it's good for me to get out.
*sigh* Guess I'll see what happens. And if karma decides to hit me with a truck on the walk to the bar, I only have myself to blame.
Plus he tends to be a pessimistic downer which is one of my dealbreakers. One point in our conversation, he said, "I just don't have anything to do since I stopped smoking pot. I just sit around and do nothing..." Then he looked at me for an answer. I shrugged. "Find a hobby, something you love to do." I hate guys without inspiration or imagination. He's the type of person that wants someone to raise his spirits for him and that's not a burden I want to shoulder. Maybe he was just going through a bad week but you shouldn't bring baggage to a date (or a drink with a stranger).
So why the hell am I going out with him again? I'm socially retarded.
We met up in December but he was starting a new job and I was leaving for the holidays, so any future plans wouldn't be for over a month, and I love to procrastinate. When he said, "We should meet up again," I agreed. And we did have fun, even if I found myself more amusing than I found him.
It's also another case of "I blew him off, I blew him off, I owe him a date." As in he's asked me a few times and I've had an excuse ready - I was sick, I was too busy, etc. Never did I just say "No thanks." Also, because I wasn't sure if it was a date the first time around, I didn't want to say "I'll gladly have another drink with you but only as friends."
I've been so anti-social lately that it's good for me to get out.
*sigh* Guess I'll see what happens. And if karma decides to hit me with a truck on the walk to the bar, I only have myself to blame.
January 25, 2007
Ennui and Amour
Or, Pretenious French Words In Leiu of a Title
After sorting through e-mails on OKCupid.com, I got annoyed and changed my status from "single" to "Seeing someone". (I couldn't find a way to just make my profile invisible and I can't bring myself to delete it since I do plan to use it eventually and don't want to rewrite it.) I think I'll just keep it that way for a week or two until I'm ready to commit to dating again. Right now there's just too much going on and I can't stir up interest in any of the guys who've contacted me. One was funny and joked about history, which I love, but honestly I'm not in a good position to go out blind (or online) dating right now. There's a health issue that's making that difficult for the duration of February and I'm just not into it.
PS, guys, don't show photos of you grabbing anything near your crotch if you want a date at all. This includes salamis, beer bottles, or your actual cock in your boxers. It's not cute or flattering.
But, there is a guy I like! Yes, really! There's a guy in one of my classes, I'll call him Virginia, that I have a teensy crush on. He's from Virginia, as the name implies, and is opinionated and loves politics. A Southerner, he's still bitter about the Civil War but not because he's racist - because he contends that it's all about States Rights and the minute the South lost, the Nation lost some of its principles. Why I find this endearing is anyone's guess. He's got a good sense of humor and seems interesting. "Don't make him a friend," MartiniFriend warned me at the bar the other night. "Just flirt until you two are making out." Easier said than done, of course.
I am a bit hungover today from said night of drinking with MartiniFriend. Beer should be calorie-free and healthy like tea. Wouldn't that be fantastic?
After sorting through e-mails on OKCupid.com, I got annoyed and changed my status from "single" to "Seeing someone". (I couldn't find a way to just make my profile invisible and I can't bring myself to delete it since I do plan to use it eventually and don't want to rewrite it.) I think I'll just keep it that way for a week or two until I'm ready to commit to dating again. Right now there's just too much going on and I can't stir up interest in any of the guys who've contacted me. One was funny and joked about history, which I love, but honestly I'm not in a good position to go out blind (or online) dating right now. There's a health issue that's making that difficult for the duration of February and I'm just not into it.
PS, guys, don't show photos of you grabbing anything near your crotch if you want a date at all. This includes salamis, beer bottles, or your actual cock in your boxers. It's not cute or flattering.
But, there is a guy I like! Yes, really! There's a guy in one of my classes, I'll call him Virginia, that I have a teensy crush on. He's from Virginia, as the name implies, and is opinionated and loves politics. A Southerner, he's still bitter about the Civil War but not because he's racist - because he contends that it's all about States Rights and the minute the South lost, the Nation lost some of its principles. Why I find this endearing is anyone's guess. He's got a good sense of humor and seems interesting. "Don't make him a friend," MartiniFriend warned me at the bar the other night. "Just flirt until you two are making out." Easier said than done, of course.
I am a bit hungover today from said night of drinking with MartiniFriend. Beer should be calorie-free and healthy like tea. Wouldn't that be fantastic?
January 21, 2007
vs. Online Dating Commercials
Match.com: It's okay to throw up a little in your mouth.
As if Valentine's Day alone weren't enough to make single women feel fundamentally wrong about not receiving chocolates and jewelry. Thanks to the Online Dating boom, now not only do we have to gag through diamond commercials (which are probably mined by slave labor), we have to see a hundred ads from Match.com and eHarmony telling us that we could find a soul mate if we'd just try. And by try I mean slap down a wad of cash, go on loads of bad dates with people who look compatitible on paper, and then wonder why after all that we're still single.
I'm not saying Online Dating doesn't work, I'm saying it's not a miracle cure for singledom. It's like anything other form of dating: it takes effort and work and bad dates to find a significant other. Or dumb luck but no one will pay for that.
Besides, what's wrong with being single? I've only spent one V Day in the throws of romantic coupledom. It was a nice night, but so were a lot of our nights together until the relationship started breaking down. I'm single and alone today, on January 21st, drinking tea and researching a project for school. I don't feel bad about it today. Why should I on Feb. 14th?
The sick joke is I probably will feel bad on the 14th because I am socially conditioned to do so. I blame sitcoms. And Hallmark. But that doesn't mean I want to see a commercial for an dating site every five minutes during the Studio 60 marathon.
As if Valentine's Day alone weren't enough to make single women feel fundamentally wrong about not receiving chocolates and jewelry. Thanks to the Online Dating boom, now not only do we have to gag through diamond commercials (which are probably mined by slave labor), we have to see a hundred ads from Match.com and eHarmony telling us that we could find a soul mate if we'd just try. And by try I mean slap down a wad of cash, go on loads of bad dates with people who look compatitible on paper, and then wonder why after all that we're still single.
I'm not saying Online Dating doesn't work, I'm saying it's not a miracle cure for singledom. It's like anything other form of dating: it takes effort and work and bad dates to find a significant other. Or dumb luck but no one will pay for that.
Besides, what's wrong with being single? I've only spent one V Day in the throws of romantic coupledom. It was a nice night, but so were a lot of our nights together until the relationship started breaking down. I'm single and alone today, on January 21st, drinking tea and researching a project for school. I don't feel bad about it today. Why should I on Feb. 14th?
The sick joke is I probably will feel bad on the 14th because I am socially conditioned to do so. I blame sitcoms. And Hallmark. But that doesn't mean I want to see a commercial for an dating site every five minutes during the Studio 60 marathon.
January 19, 2007
That Time My Date Discovered My Blog
It's a hazard of blog-keeping we all fear. Discovery By the Worst Possible Person(tm).
I have not actually been dating since the start of the blog (due to various things, including a lack of prospective dates and a head cold that keeps coming back with a vengeance) but I still have stories from my past. The end of 2005 especially contained a few dates that were part of a misguided attempt to get over my ex long-term boyfriend. These are the sorts of dates you can't bring yourself to care about but force yourself to go on in an attempt to prove that you are not so shattered and damaged and incapable of ever liking another human being again. It's a mistake but it's part of the healing process.
I had one such date on night in late 2005, at the same time I was writing actively in my Livejournal, which at that point I was naive enough to keep public. This guy, let's call him NetNerd, was from OkCupid.com. He seemed nice enough and liked the same music as me. His two photos were slightly blurry and angled in that Myspacey-"I'm taking this myself" sort of way that didn't show much of what he'd actually look like.
NetNerd talked me into a date. We were IMing one night. He'd asked me out once and I refused, saying I didn't think we had much in common, but he messaged me to tell me about some upcoming concert and asked again. He insisted, citing music and movies, we had plenty in common, and I agreed to meet for drinks.
Before the date, I went to my Livejournal to update with a bulletin-list of recent stuff, including a concert that I'd just gone too and my new haircut. This appeared in the middle of the list:
--Have a date tonight but I'm not exactly excited. He's kind of funny but he's not that attractive and I don't think he's really my type. All the same, I haven't got anything better to do and it beats sitting at home again.--
Hours later, we met at the Pub. He was late (I hate that!) and when he came walking up to me, I was not attracted to him in the least. I decided to have a quick beer and go home. We got a table and some beers. I wasn't hungry but he insisted on ordering food, which meant I'd have to stay while he ate or be rude and walk out in the middle of his meal. Well, whatever. He probably could have waited, downed a beer (beer's filling right?) and eat after the date was done, but no. Then he had to send back his meal because the sauce had bacon and he was Jewish and kept kosher. I will say that he handled it politely and tipped the server nicely, but first dates are awkward enough. Suddenly one person is eating and then has to send their food back... it just complicates things when we were only meeting for a drink in the first place.
He had one obnoxious habit that made me want to deck him: all his opinions seemed to come from something he read on the web. Details are fuzzy now, but I remember being annoyed that every time I said anything he answered with a matter-of-fact statement that seemed to settle the issue. If I liked a movie, he would say, "Well, it was written by so-and-so and got great reviews. If I thought an album was brilliant, he'd say something like "Their first album was great but then they adopted the style of X and Y, and kicked Z out of the band, and that's why the vocals on track 3 don't quite sound the same as Track 8," etc. etc. And I wanted to scream. I felt like I'd walked in an Entertainment Snob convention and found the one guy who wanted to lecture me on anything I enjoyed based on internet reviews. NetNerd's answer to anything was Google or Wikipedia, a habit I'd noticed during our brief IMing (wherein he'd send me a link when I asked a question), and yet hadn't realized could be so frustrated face-to-face.
Needless to say, I did not have fun. I scooted out of the date as soon as he was done with his dinner. I went home, opened a beer and cooked a pizza, and wished I hadn't gone at all.
Two days later, an anonymous comment appeared on the LJ Entry. It asked, ominously, "Hey, can we get a post-date rap up?" with no signature below it. Immediately, I thought it was NetNerd and then I told myself it was just a friend without an LJ account. That night he IM'd me again. I didn't respond to the comment.
"I had a great time with you the other night," he said. "And I have a confession to make." My stomach sank. I knew then it was him. "I found your LJ."
"Oh?" I asked.
"I googled your IM name which is also your e-mail and then found your LJ," NetNerd explained. "I noticed you said I wasn't attractive and you didn't want to go on the date."
Busted.
I managed to smooth it over. I attributed the "not attractive" comments to his poor photographs. "You look much better in person," I lied, "you should take new photos." I said the "not wanting to go" was mostly laziness due to the cold weather and a bit because I was still getting over that summer's break up.
He seemed to accept this because he asked me out again. Talk about glutton for punishment. I declined, saying that I just wasn't over my ex enough to date again, as our Pub Date had shown me. I apologized for the journal comments and wished him luck in his romantic pursuits.
Later that month, I went through my LJ and locked all the entries to a "friends-only" setting. I realized that anonymity on the net is fleeting, especially if one is careless, and that dating guys from the net might not be a good idea.
This blog is a catharsis; it allows to write about my experiences honestly and get feedback from others. I shutter in horror that someday I will be in a serious relationship and my guy will stumble across this blog and find out that I'm really a shallow, petty, insecure wreck. But I comfort myself by remembering any guy who loves me and sticks with me long term will already know these things and like me anyhow.
It's a risk I'm willing to take in order to chronicle these events and perhaps gain a better perspective on myself. Besides, I love reading about other people's dating horrors and sharing my own. It makes me feel better to know I'm not the only one out there who's not great at dating or get confused or has no idea what slimhole some of these jerks crawl of.
I have not actually been dating since the start of the blog (due to various things, including a lack of prospective dates and a head cold that keeps coming back with a vengeance) but I still have stories from my past. The end of 2005 especially contained a few dates that were part of a misguided attempt to get over my ex long-term boyfriend. These are the sorts of dates you can't bring yourself to care about but force yourself to go on in an attempt to prove that you are not so shattered and damaged and incapable of ever liking another human being again. It's a mistake but it's part of the healing process.
I had one such date on night in late 2005, at the same time I was writing actively in my Livejournal, which at that point I was naive enough to keep public. This guy, let's call him NetNerd, was from OkCupid.com. He seemed nice enough and liked the same music as me. His two photos were slightly blurry and angled in that Myspacey-"I'm taking this myself" sort of way that didn't show much of what he'd actually look like.
NetNerd talked me into a date. We were IMing one night. He'd asked me out once and I refused, saying I didn't think we had much in common, but he messaged me to tell me about some upcoming concert and asked again. He insisted, citing music and movies, we had plenty in common, and I agreed to meet for drinks.
Before the date, I went to my Livejournal to update with a bulletin-list of recent stuff, including a concert that I'd just gone too and my new haircut. This appeared in the middle of the list:
--Have a date tonight but I'm not exactly excited. He's kind of funny but he's not that attractive and I don't think he's really my type. All the same, I haven't got anything better to do and it beats sitting at home again.--
Hours later, we met at the Pub. He was late (I hate that!) and when he came walking up to me, I was not attracted to him in the least. I decided to have a quick beer and go home. We got a table and some beers. I wasn't hungry but he insisted on ordering food, which meant I'd have to stay while he ate or be rude and walk out in the middle of his meal. Well, whatever. He probably could have waited, downed a beer (beer's filling right?) and eat after the date was done, but no. Then he had to send back his meal because the sauce had bacon and he was Jewish and kept kosher. I will say that he handled it politely and tipped the server nicely, but first dates are awkward enough. Suddenly one person is eating and then has to send their food back... it just complicates things when we were only meeting for a drink in the first place.
He had one obnoxious habit that made me want to deck him: all his opinions seemed to come from something he read on the web. Details are fuzzy now, but I remember being annoyed that every time I said anything he answered with a matter-of-fact statement that seemed to settle the issue. If I liked a movie, he would say, "Well, it was written by so-and-so and got great reviews. If I thought an album was brilliant, he'd say something like "Their first album was great but then they adopted the style of X and Y, and kicked Z out of the band, and that's why the vocals on track 3 don't quite sound the same as Track 8," etc. etc. And I wanted to scream. I felt like I'd walked in an Entertainment Snob convention and found the one guy who wanted to lecture me on anything I enjoyed based on internet reviews. NetNerd's answer to anything was Google or Wikipedia, a habit I'd noticed during our brief IMing (wherein he'd send me a link when I asked a question), and yet hadn't realized could be so frustrated face-to-face.
Needless to say, I did not have fun. I scooted out of the date as soon as he was done with his dinner. I went home, opened a beer and cooked a pizza, and wished I hadn't gone at all.
Two days later, an anonymous comment appeared on the LJ Entry. It asked, ominously, "Hey, can we get a post-date rap up?" with no signature below it. Immediately, I thought it was NetNerd and then I told myself it was just a friend without an LJ account. That night he IM'd me again. I didn't respond to the comment.
"I had a great time with you the other night," he said. "And I have a confession to make." My stomach sank. I knew then it was him. "I found your LJ."
"Oh?" I asked.
"I googled your IM name which is also your e-mail and then found your LJ," NetNerd explained. "I noticed you said I wasn't attractive and you didn't want to go on the date."
Busted.
I managed to smooth it over. I attributed the "not attractive" comments to his poor photographs. "You look much better in person," I lied, "you should take new photos." I said the "not wanting to go" was mostly laziness due to the cold weather and a bit because I was still getting over that summer's break up.
He seemed to accept this because he asked me out again. Talk about glutton for punishment. I declined, saying that I just wasn't over my ex enough to date again, as our Pub Date had shown me. I apologized for the journal comments and wished him luck in his romantic pursuits.
Later that month, I went through my LJ and locked all the entries to a "friends-only" setting. I realized that anonymity on the net is fleeting, especially if one is careless, and that dating guys from the net might not be a good idea.
This blog is a catharsis; it allows to write about my experiences honestly and get feedback from others. I shutter in horror that someday I will be in a serious relationship and my guy will stumble across this blog and find out that I'm really a shallow, petty, insecure wreck. But I comfort myself by remembering any guy who loves me and sticks with me long term will already know these things and like me anyhow.
It's a risk I'm willing to take in order to chronicle these events and perhaps gain a better perspective on myself. Besides, I love reading about other people's dating horrors and sharing my own. It makes me feel better to know I'm not the only one out there who's not great at dating or get confused or has no idea what slimhole some of these jerks crawl of.
January 18, 2007
Not a Tomboy, Not Yet a Woman
Oh god. After being frustrating with my bushy eyebrows--they remind me of Andy Rooney's only mine aren't grey--I decided to take drastic measures. By which I mean I pulled out a hair-waxing kit I bought years ago in hopes of waxing my legs (I never did) and decided to give this eyebrow thing a go.
I've attempted, at times, to pluck away the extra hairs but the only shape I seem to get resembles small catapillars crawling across my forehead. I figured with wax I'd be able to get a bit of an arch.
At least I didn't take off an entire eyebrow, that's all I can say.
The catapillars are noticably smaller but there's no arch and now my forehead stings. I don't think I'll ever get the hang of this "being girly" thing. I still cannot really walk in heels, I own more video games than pairs of shoes, and no matter how many episodes of What Not to Wear I watch, I still don't know how to dress myself..
Well, now I've tried wax. Practice makes perfect, I supose. Baby steps, Lady, baby steps.
I've attempted, at times, to pluck away the extra hairs but the only shape I seem to get resembles small catapillars crawling across my forehead. I figured with wax I'd be able to get a bit of an arch.
At least I didn't take off an entire eyebrow, that's all I can say.
The catapillars are noticably smaller but there's no arch and now my forehead stings. I don't think I'll ever get the hang of this "being girly" thing. I still cannot really walk in heels, I own more video games than pairs of shoes, and no matter how many episodes of What Not to Wear I watch, I still don't know how to dress myself..
Well, now I've tried wax. Practice makes perfect, I supose. Baby steps, Lady, baby steps.
January 16, 2007
I Want to Be a Superhero
Is it wrong that I've been fantasizing about applying for the worst reality show on TV? By which I mean Sci-Fi Channel's Who Wants to Be a Superhero?. Really I just want to meet Stan Lee. Also, I could kick those lame idiots from last season in the ass. They had contestants who didn't realize that you never reveal your secret identity. C'mon, even bloggers know that, but anyone who's read a single comic book can figure that part out.
Okay, so the obviously faked Stan Lee scenes (wherein he reads dryly from a prompter) and the pathetic stunts would cheapen the experience, but damn it if I don't want to run around on TV in a cape and pretend I have superpowers.
Okay, so the obviously faked Stan Lee scenes (wherein he reads dryly from a prompter) and the pathetic stunts would cheapen the experience, but damn it if I don't want to run around on TV in a cape and pretend I have superpowers.
January 15, 2007
Yoshimi Battles the Online Dating E-mails
OkCupid does have a good number of decent guys my age looking for an actual girlfriend - I've seen them hook up with my friends, I've met a few in person (we just didn't click). Sadly these men are buried under piles of the following: a) guys hoping for sex, B) Technogeeks who are single for a reason, and C) guys who are under the age of 21. Seriously, kids, no thanks.
Let's explore some of my recent messages, shall we?
E-mail 1:
Subject: Caffeine!
Body: LoL nice profile, send me a message if ya like!
Okay, what are we, twelve? Who sends a message with no content asking for a message in return? It's as bad as a wink, only it contains the blasted net-jargon "LOL" along with no grammatical structure. I checked his profile where he describes his love of partying and then to supplement this fact, he has three photos of him drinking. From what I can tell they were taken at the same party, as he's wearing the same clothes and it appears to be the same location. In the main profile shot, he's hugging a girl. He indicates that she's just a friend but dude, can't you get one photo of you alone, maybe without a cocktail? Do I even have to reply to this guy to say no? Isn't it some rule that I don't have to be polite if the whole e-mail is less than 10 words?
E-mail 2 is from a guy in Germany. It's long, so I won't post it, but at least it's well thought out. If he weren't half way across the world, he might be fun to meet. His main photo is of him wearing a bunch of liquor boxes as a robot costume and holding up a sign that reads "Free Robot Sex". While this is hilarious, he doesn't have any other photos of him on the site so I can't tell what he looks like. And again, he's in Germany, looking for a "correspondence" which I assume means pen-pal. I might write him back but that's no use in the dating world.
E-mail 3 is from a guy who says he's 30, although he looks older to me, perhaps because he's bald. Also he says he's a college grad who's worked for the same company for 11 years, so you do the math. After complementing my favorite movie (The Life Aquatic), he writes:
Anyway if you'd like to meet a cool guy who'll do just about anything to see TOOL again, seem em 8 times so far... Write me back, I won't disappoint, at least I'll try not to disappoint...
Um, Tool? I listened to Tool in ninth grade when I dyed my hair purple and wore black clothes and considered myself a Wiccan who thought Anne Rice was the pinnacle of literature. Obviously I had a lot to learn. My taste in music may be questionable and I have plenty of friends who like Tool, but I wouldn't see them live unless it was free. With free beer. While I appreciate this little detail about himself, I don't know if being a 30-year-old Tool Fanatic is a great way to pitch yourself to women. I don't find him attractive and don't see many common interests anyhow. I'll have to send him a quick "no thanks".
E-mail 4 is a quick note saying this guy liked my profile and thanking me for the laugh - he called my page "word candy". I'm blushing. But he's 21 and lives over an hour away. And you know, 21. That's still too young for me. It's sweet all the same.
The rest of my e-mails are missed IMs. I usually log into sites, get distracted, and leave myself logged in while I'm off doing dishes or something, so I miss IMs, especially from websites like this. There is a "turn off" option that I always forget about. None of them are from guys I'm sad I missed though one guy is notable: his main profile photo is an illustration of a demon-like creature with red eyes, blown up so large that it's pixelated. I don't know if this is to indicate he's hardcore or an artist or a fan of some comic but it's just freaking me out. Your main photo should always be of you, even if the rest aren't.
I added a few blogs to the link list. I've been sick so I've been reading blogs for entertainment while I sit at home on my ass. (Besides which, I don't think I can do this online dating thing sober. I'm going to have to wait until this fading cold is gone for good and come back to these e-mails when I've got a few beers in me. Otherwise they just make my head hurt. That's probably negative thinking. Stop that, Lady!)
Let's explore some of my recent messages, shall we?
E-mail 1:
Subject: Caffeine!
Body: LoL nice profile, send me a message if ya like!
Okay, what are we, twelve? Who sends a message with no content asking for a message in return? It's as bad as a wink, only it contains the blasted net-jargon "LOL" along with no grammatical structure. I checked his profile where he describes his love of partying and then to supplement this fact, he has three photos of him drinking. From what I can tell they were taken at the same party, as he's wearing the same clothes and it appears to be the same location. In the main profile shot, he's hugging a girl. He indicates that she's just a friend but dude, can't you get one photo of you alone, maybe without a cocktail? Do I even have to reply to this guy to say no? Isn't it some rule that I don't have to be polite if the whole e-mail is less than 10 words?
E-mail 2 is from a guy in Germany. It's long, so I won't post it, but at least it's well thought out. If he weren't half way across the world, he might be fun to meet. His main photo is of him wearing a bunch of liquor boxes as a robot costume and holding up a sign that reads "Free Robot Sex". While this is hilarious, he doesn't have any other photos of him on the site so I can't tell what he looks like. And again, he's in Germany, looking for a "correspondence" which I assume means pen-pal. I might write him back but that's no use in the dating world.
E-mail 3 is from a guy who says he's 30, although he looks older to me, perhaps because he's bald. Also he says he's a college grad who's worked for the same company for 11 years, so you do the math. After complementing my favorite movie (The Life Aquatic), he writes:
Anyway if you'd like to meet a cool guy who'll do just about anything to see TOOL again, seem em 8 times so far... Write me back, I won't disappoint, at least I'll try not to disappoint...
Um, Tool? I listened to Tool in ninth grade when I dyed my hair purple and wore black clothes and considered myself a Wiccan who thought Anne Rice was the pinnacle of literature. Obviously I had a lot to learn. My taste in music may be questionable and I have plenty of friends who like Tool, but I wouldn't see them live unless it was free. With free beer. While I appreciate this little detail about himself, I don't know if being a 30-year-old Tool Fanatic is a great way to pitch yourself to women. I don't find him attractive and don't see many common interests anyhow. I'll have to send him a quick "no thanks".
E-mail 4 is a quick note saying this guy liked my profile and thanking me for the laugh - he called my page "word candy". I'm blushing. But he's 21 and lives over an hour away. And you know, 21. That's still too young for me. It's sweet all the same.
The rest of my e-mails are missed IMs. I usually log into sites, get distracted, and leave myself logged in while I'm off doing dishes or something, so I miss IMs, especially from websites like this. There is a "turn off" option that I always forget about. None of them are from guys I'm sad I missed though one guy is notable: his main profile photo is an illustration of a demon-like creature with red eyes, blown up so large that it's pixelated. I don't know if this is to indicate he's hardcore or an artist or a fan of some comic but it's just freaking me out. Your main photo should always be of you, even if the rest aren't.
I added a few blogs to the link list. I've been sick so I've been reading blogs for entertainment while I sit at home on my ass. (Besides which, I don't think I can do this online dating thing sober. I'm going to have to wait until this fading cold is gone for good and come back to these e-mails when I've got a few beers in me. Otherwise they just make my head hurt. That's probably negative thinking. Stop that, Lady!)
January 14, 2007
Seahawk Sunday!
See? Here I am, a good-looking witty girl with a good-sized chest who loves football. How the hell is that I'm still single? I mean really.
Normally if I was off on Sunday, I'd take this party to a sports bar and try to meet guys while cheering for my team. Unfortunately, I caught a cold this week that I can't seem to shake. A sore throat and stuffy nose are not exactly turn ons and I don't feel like drinking* or yelling loudly at touchdowns. I'm watching the game curled up on my couch with some tea. Maybe if Seattle beats Chicago, the cold will lift like a curse. Go Seahawks!!
*yeah, this is how you know i'm sick
Normally if I was off on Sunday, I'd take this party to a sports bar and try to meet guys while cheering for my team. Unfortunately, I caught a cold this week that I can't seem to shake. A sore throat and stuffy nose are not exactly turn ons and I don't feel like drinking* or yelling loudly at touchdowns. I'm watching the game curled up on my couch with some tea. Maybe if Seattle beats Chicago, the cold will lift like a curse. Go Seahawks!!
*yeah, this is how you know i'm sick
January 13, 2007
Guys Who Don't Get the Hint
Reading about Charming, But Single's dilemma with a guy who will not get a clue and go away reminded me of a similar experience I had.
I have a tendency to meet guys in bars, which translates into a tendency to meet weirdos and assholes. Yes, good guys hang out in bars too, but I am an obnoxious jerk magnet. Two years ago, I made a huge mistake. Upset about stuff in my personal life, as well stressed about my job and depressed in general, I went to a bar to drink away the blues. One bloody mary turned into four until the pages of my book were too blurry to read. I switched to beer. A guy sat next to me and we started talking. He'd been to Japan, which I thought was interesting, and we joked about his culture shock across the Pacific. He wasn't very attractive (he had lips like Angelina Jolie's which is not attractive on men) and shifty eyes. But I was pretty drunk and horny. I went to his place to "watch a movie".
The sex was horrible. It was drunken, lousy, awful sex. Sloppy and sickening. When it was over, I threw on my skirt and ran out the door, as he protested that I should stay so we could do it again. As someone wise in these matters once said, As If!
I must have given him my number before the before we left the bar or something, since I had his number in my phone as well. That was my second mistake. He called me the next night. (Why don't the cool guys do that?) I didn't answer. He called the day after. I let it ring. After four-straight days of him calling me, I picked up and curtly said, "What?"
"I wanted to see if you wanted to go get a drink or something," he said calmly.
"Um, no thanks." He asked again, coaxing me to go out. "I really don't think it's a good idea," I insisted.
"Fine!" he said and slammed down the phone.
Weird-o. But I thought that was the end of it. I deleted his number. Only he called again that night at 3 am, obviously drunk. "Stop calling me!" I yelled. "The other night was a drunken mistake. I don't want to see you again." I hung up.
He called again several times (often late hours of the night) for about two weeks. I just stopped answering and he didn't leave messages. Eventually, he quit calling and I wiped my hands of it. I ran into him again once in Buffalo's, the bar where we met, but I was with friends and I didn't do more than glance his direction. Before he could speak, I slipped back behind my pals and he didn't have the guts to approach me in the group.
Three months later my phone rang at about seven pm on a Saturday. I didn't recognize the number so I answered (my friends have the habit of calling me from new phones) and guess who it was? "It's BadOneNightStandGuy," he said. "I've been out of town for a month but now I'm back. Do you want to go get a beer?"
Talk about clueless. No asshat, I want you to be shot into the Sun so there's no chance of ever hearing from you again. "No, I don't."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want to see you again," I said as nicely as I could. "I told you before, it was a huge mistake, I was too drunk to make that sort of decision, and I'm not interested in you."
"Well FUCK YOU!" he screamed and slammed down the phone. He's never called me again.
Part of me thinks he actually figured it out months before this final call and this was his sense of closure or something. It didn't shake me; it made me feel sorry for him. He was obviously a bit delusional. I thought it was the chicks who got attatched after sex, not the guys! What the hell?
Sadly, thes are the sorts of men I tend to attract: guys who date me once or twice and suddenly think I'm their girlfriend and they can't live without me. It sounds cocky but it's not like it sounds: these guys are slightly off, needy, and co-dependent. I end up with semi-stalkers and guys who are way too in love with me before they know me at all. It's creepy. Well, either that or guys who are fantastic but don't like me back. I can't seem to hit the middle of that spectrum to find a happy medium of requited love.
le sigh
I have a tendency to meet guys in bars, which translates into a tendency to meet weirdos and assholes. Yes, good guys hang out in bars too, but I am an obnoxious jerk magnet. Two years ago, I made a huge mistake. Upset about stuff in my personal life, as well stressed about my job and depressed in general, I went to a bar to drink away the blues. One bloody mary turned into four until the pages of my book were too blurry to read. I switched to beer. A guy sat next to me and we started talking. He'd been to Japan, which I thought was interesting, and we joked about his culture shock across the Pacific. He wasn't very attractive (he had lips like Angelina Jolie's which is not attractive on men) and shifty eyes. But I was pretty drunk and horny. I went to his place to "watch a movie".
The sex was horrible. It was drunken, lousy, awful sex. Sloppy and sickening. When it was over, I threw on my skirt and ran out the door, as he protested that I should stay so we could do it again. As someone wise in these matters once said, As If!
I must have given him my number before the before we left the bar or something, since I had his number in my phone as well. That was my second mistake. He called me the next night. (Why don't the cool guys do that?) I didn't answer. He called the day after. I let it ring. After four-straight days of him calling me, I picked up and curtly said, "What?"
"I wanted to see if you wanted to go get a drink or something," he said calmly.
"Um, no thanks." He asked again, coaxing me to go out. "I really don't think it's a good idea," I insisted.
"Fine!" he said and slammed down the phone.
Weird-o. But I thought that was the end of it. I deleted his number. Only he called again that night at 3 am, obviously drunk. "Stop calling me!" I yelled. "The other night was a drunken mistake. I don't want to see you again." I hung up.
He called again several times (often late hours of the night) for about two weeks. I just stopped answering and he didn't leave messages. Eventually, he quit calling and I wiped my hands of it. I ran into him again once in Buffalo's, the bar where we met, but I was with friends and I didn't do more than glance his direction. Before he could speak, I slipped back behind my pals and he didn't have the guts to approach me in the group.
Three months later my phone rang at about seven pm on a Saturday. I didn't recognize the number so I answered (my friends have the habit of calling me from new phones) and guess who it was? "It's BadOneNightStandGuy," he said. "I've been out of town for a month but now I'm back. Do you want to go get a beer?"
Talk about clueless. No asshat, I want you to be shot into the Sun so there's no chance of ever hearing from you again. "No, I don't."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want to see you again," I said as nicely as I could. "I told you before, it was a huge mistake, I was too drunk to make that sort of decision, and I'm not interested in you."
"Well FUCK YOU!" he screamed and slammed down the phone. He's never called me again.
Part of me thinks he actually figured it out months before this final call and this was his sense of closure or something. It didn't shake me; it made me feel sorry for him. He was obviously a bit delusional. I thought it was the chicks who got attatched after sex, not the guys! What the hell?
Sadly, thes are the sorts of men I tend to attract: guys who date me once or twice and suddenly think I'm their girlfriend and they can't live without me. It sounds cocky but it's not like it sounds: these guys are slightly off, needy, and co-dependent. I end up with semi-stalkers and guys who are way too in love with me before they know me at all. It's creepy. Well, either that or guys who are fantastic but don't like me back. I can't seem to hit the middle of that spectrum to find a happy medium of requited love.
le sigh
January 12, 2007
Dealbreakers
Everyone has them: things they cannot look past or ignore. Dating always forces us to evaluate what we can tolerate and what we can't. Online dating more so, as you are presented with lists of facts about potential dates, allowing you to weed out some of your dealbreakers before you meet. I'm a freak, I'll admit it. Part of the reason I am perpetually single is that I am shallow and picky, habits I am trying to break. Nonetheless, here are some of my big dealbreakers:
- Strongly Religious Men - As an atheist I cannot date someone who feels it's their personal duty to save my soul. I'm all for people who are culturally religious (like Jews who still celebrate Hanukkah but don't necessarily keep kosher) or who are mildly spiritual. However, any strong connection to God, the Bible, or church is a dealbreaker. There are bound to be all sorts of problems in such a relationship.
- Vegans - Just to be clear, I can date vegetarians. (I've been vegetarian before though recently gave it up. I love my sushi!) I understand the principles behind Veganism but I put cheese on everything. Besides, I can't date someone who will frown when I eat my monthly cheeseburger or can't drink beer that isn't specifically labeled vegan. It's too maticulus and reminiscent of an eating disorder.
- Guys Who Are Pussies (Not in the British Sense*) - It's okay for guys to have feelings. I like that. It's okay for guys to exfoliate, to listen to whiny emo music, and to love puppies. But if you cry at the drop of the hat, are too shy or passive or helpless, I can't do it. I want a MAN. And I want my own life. My girlfriend has a boyfriend who's a prime example: when she goes out with us for a girl's night, he doesn't eat because he can't figure out how to heat up left overs or make a sandwich for himself. That's pathetic. Be a guy, be assertive, be yourself. And grow some balls. If I wanted a chick, I'd become a lesbian.
- Spitting - Maybe if we're engaged and I see you spit on the sidewalk, I'll just punch your arm. But in the early stages of dating nothing turns me off more than guys who spits on the street.
- Rudeness - No one should stand for a rude date. Anyone who's rude to a bartender or waiter or ticket taker, etc., or who doesn't tip appropriately, is gone. This goes doubly if the date is rude to me.
-The Constant Downer - Depression is an illness. Get some Prozac or Xanax. Everyone has bouts of sadness or malaise. Being female, I get depressed for no good reason a couple of days each month thanks to my hormones! It's fun! But if you are always depressed and pessimisstic and sad, and everything is always so wrong, I cannot date you until you seek help. Your depression is like a sinking ship and I will not go down with it, thank you very much.
- Poetry - If you write it, good for you. But unless you're the new Keats, I really don't want to hear it. Especially the ones about your ex-girlfriends or that chick in high school who wouldn't take you to prom. (See also, Guys Who Are Pussies.)
-Guys Who Don't Drink - You don't have to down a six-pack each night but if I can't take you to a sports bar to watch the game and have a few pints every now and then, we are not going to make it as a couple. I went on one date with a guy who was adament about never drinking, telling me it was stupid and people who drink are idiots. Maybe his dad used to get drunk and beat him, but I found the generalization pretty condescending. There's a difference between having a post-work cocktail sometimes and getting plastered all the time.
Those are the big 'uns. What are your dealbreakers?
*It's a joke in Arrested Development. If you did not catch this, do yourself a favor and go buy Season 3. It's the best DVD set you will ever purchase.
- Strongly Religious Men - As an atheist I cannot date someone who feels it's their personal duty to save my soul. I'm all for people who are culturally religious (like Jews who still celebrate Hanukkah but don't necessarily keep kosher) or who are mildly spiritual. However, any strong connection to God, the Bible, or church is a dealbreaker. There are bound to be all sorts of problems in such a relationship.
- Vegans - Just to be clear, I can date vegetarians. (I've been vegetarian before though recently gave it up. I love my sushi!) I understand the principles behind Veganism but I put cheese on everything. Besides, I can't date someone who will frown when I eat my monthly cheeseburger or can't drink beer that isn't specifically labeled vegan. It's too maticulus and reminiscent of an eating disorder.
- Guys Who Are Pussies (Not in the British Sense*) - It's okay for guys to have feelings. I like that. It's okay for guys to exfoliate, to listen to whiny emo music, and to love puppies. But if you cry at the drop of the hat, are too shy or passive or helpless, I can't do it. I want a MAN. And I want my own life. My girlfriend has a boyfriend who's a prime example: when she goes out with us for a girl's night, he doesn't eat because he can't figure out how to heat up left overs or make a sandwich for himself. That's pathetic. Be a guy, be assertive, be yourself. And grow some balls. If I wanted a chick, I'd become a lesbian.
- Spitting - Maybe if we're engaged and I see you spit on the sidewalk, I'll just punch your arm. But in the early stages of dating nothing turns me off more than guys who spits on the street.
- Rudeness - No one should stand for a rude date. Anyone who's rude to a bartender or waiter or ticket taker, etc., or who doesn't tip appropriately, is gone. This goes doubly if the date is rude to me.
-The Constant Downer - Depression is an illness. Get some Prozac or Xanax. Everyone has bouts of sadness or malaise. Being female, I get depressed for no good reason a couple of days each month thanks to my hormones! It's fun! But if you are always depressed and pessimisstic and sad, and everything is always so wrong, I cannot date you until you seek help. Your depression is like a sinking ship and I will not go down with it, thank you very much.
- Poetry - If you write it, good for you. But unless you're the new Keats, I really don't want to hear it. Especially the ones about your ex-girlfriends or that chick in high school who wouldn't take you to prom. (See also, Guys Who Are Pussies.)
-Guys Who Don't Drink - You don't have to down a six-pack each night but if I can't take you to a sports bar to watch the game and have a few pints every now and then, we are not going to make it as a couple. I went on one date with a guy who was adament about never drinking, telling me it was stupid and people who drink are idiots. Maybe his dad used to get drunk and beat him, but I found the generalization pretty condescending. There's a difference between having a post-work cocktail sometimes and getting plastered all the time.
Those are the big 'uns. What are your dealbreakers?
*It's a joke in Arrested Development. If you did not catch this, do yourself a favor and go buy Season 3. It's the best DVD set you will ever purchase.
January 11, 2007
I Don't Love Anyone
Until I pay for it, I've given up Nerve.com. Instead I've been turning my attentions to OkCupid.com, a site I've used before. It never deleted my profile so I went in, updated some details, added a more recent photo, and voila. For two days it's been up and I've gotten about ten e-mails and almost dozen "woos". This is progress.
Four of the winks were from e-mailers. What good does it do to send a "wink"-like thing to something after you've sent them a letter? Does that reinforce the idea somehow? Do they really think I'll read their profile and e-mail, decide against them, and then see the "woo" and change my mind? Online daters, sheesh.
Two of the e-mailers seem cool. I will compose witty reponses and hope for the best. With OkCupid, as opposed to other dating sites, the first e-mail is usually a direct "let's go get a drink" which is fine with me. Time spent not met is time wasted if the physical attraction's not there. Oddly enough, three of guys who sent messages are from Illinois (and all of them are handsome in the dorky sort of way I like). Perhaps fate is telling me to pack up and move to Chicago. Perhaps that's where all the cute single guys are hiding.
I ran into Friend's Friend at school last week. He was in line for the registrar with a male friend. He really isn't my type. He's my height (and I'm short), he's bald which he chooses to make up for with a beard, and he wears those ugly puffy vests. I don't usually like bald guys or facial hair. But these are all things that I wouldn't bat an eye at if I liked him. I don't. I stopped and said hi, asked if he knew where my classroom was (he didn't) and went on my way. I think this short hello where I avoided any comments like "hey let's get a beer sometime" combined with my lack of e-mail communication has proven effective. He's yet to send another e-mail. Yes, I should have been a grown up and e-mailed him to explain that I don't see us going anyhwere. If he e-mails me again, I will tell him. Otherwise I'm going to let it go.
Fuck, there go the last vestiges of my dating karma.
Ah vell, I still have my many unattainable crushes: Agent Sealy Booth (aka David Boreanz) of Bones, the lead singers of most indie bands, Ilan from Top Chef, of course Captain Jack Sparrow, and for some reason Malfoy from the Harry Potter books (I'm rereading book 6). Oh, and the entire band Belle & Sebastian. Think I can marry them as a group and live on their tour bus?
Four of the winks were from e-mailers. What good does it do to send a "wink"-like thing to something after you've sent them a letter? Does that reinforce the idea somehow? Do they really think I'll read their profile and e-mail, decide against them, and then see the "woo" and change my mind? Online daters, sheesh.
Two of the e-mailers seem cool. I will compose witty reponses and hope for the best. With OkCupid, as opposed to other dating sites, the first e-mail is usually a direct "let's go get a drink" which is fine with me. Time spent not met is time wasted if the physical attraction's not there. Oddly enough, three of guys who sent messages are from Illinois (and all of them are handsome in the dorky sort of way I like). Perhaps fate is telling me to pack up and move to Chicago. Perhaps that's where all the cute single guys are hiding.
I ran into Friend's Friend at school last week. He was in line for the registrar with a male friend. He really isn't my type. He's my height (and I'm short), he's bald which he chooses to make up for with a beard, and he wears those ugly puffy vests. I don't usually like bald guys or facial hair. But these are all things that I wouldn't bat an eye at if I liked him. I don't. I stopped and said hi, asked if he knew where my classroom was (he didn't) and went on my way. I think this short hello where I avoided any comments like "hey let's get a beer sometime" combined with my lack of e-mail communication has proven effective. He's yet to send another e-mail. Yes, I should have been a grown up and e-mailed him to explain that I don't see us going anyhwere. If he e-mails me again, I will tell him. Otherwise I'm going to let it go.
Fuck, there go the last vestiges of my dating karma.
Ah vell, I still have my many unattainable crushes: Agent Sealy Booth (aka David Boreanz) of Bones, the lead singers of most indie bands, Ilan from Top Chef, of course Captain Jack Sparrow, and for some reason Malfoy from the Harry Potter books (I'm rereading book 6). Oh, and the entire band Belle & Sebastian. Think I can marry them as a group and live on their tour bus?
January 8, 2007
The Nerve of It All
So I was under this misconception that Nerve.com is free, which it is sort of. Except you have to pay if you want it to do you any good. Which is a bummer because thanks to tuition (high) and my rent's sudden increase last month, I don't have a lot of extra cash for dating sites. Hopefully I'll pay for one or two sites in March but for now, I am stuck going the free route.
Luckily, one of the guys in one of my classes seems to like me. I don't know if it's because my pores seem to sweat beer or if I just have an aura of awesome, but there you go. He's been talking to me in class a lot. A pal met me at school to go do our homework and she saw him checking me out. That makes me happy.
As for Nerve, it lets me search with a free account but only gives me 30 results - only 4 of which have photos. Call me shallow but I want a picture. Blind dating is one thing, internet dating requires photos to prove that you are at least 80% of who you claim to be. I've gotten one e-mail that made a joke of my profile, and one wink. I am bad at this game.
Luckily, one of the guys in one of my classes seems to like me. I don't know if it's because my pores seem to sweat beer or if I just have an aura of awesome, but there you go. He's been talking to me in class a lot. A pal met me at school to go do our homework and she saw him checking me out. That makes me happy.
As for Nerve, it lets me search with a free account but only gives me 30 results - only 4 of which have photos. Call me shallow but I want a picture. Blind dating is one thing, internet dating requires photos to prove that you are at least 80% of who you claim to be. I've gotten one e-mail that made a joke of my profile, and one wink. I am bad at this game.
January 6, 2007
For What Reason
"When your apologies fail to ring true; so slick with that sarcastic slew. Phrases like "I thought you knew!" while keeping me in hot pursuit." - Death Cab For Cutie, "For What Reason"
I'm a jerk. I'll be the first to admit it. Also, I am not the most mature in relationships. Let's just say I had my first boyfriend in kindergarten and I don't think I've progressed much since then. I'm working on it.
So here's the deal with Friend's Friend, previously mentioned in this post. We went on two dates last year.
Date 1: We met at a bar and got a pitcher of beer. The mutual friend who set us up had shown me a photo and while I was not too impressed with appearance, some people are not photogenic (myself included). Besides, as I said, we had a lot in common on paper. He did look better in person but there still wasn't much physical attraction on my end. Still, we drank, we talked about our love of old sci-fi shows and comedies and books we'd read and before I knew it, I was pretty tipsy. I agreed to move it to one of my favorite bars, where we drank yet more beer. FF had a great since of humor and I like funny drinking buddies. We were alternating paying for pitchers and it felt like I was drinking with a pal from work. Getting drunk on a first date is the opposite of smart. I shouldn't have done it. I'd had a shitty week and I was stressed and a million other generic excuses. It was DUMB. Eventually we wound up at a Bar & Grill to get some dinner.
Here's a little-known fact about me: when I am drunk I insist on paying the tab. I have no idea where this intoxicated generosity comes from. Maybe I want to be liked. Anyone's who gotten drunk with me can testify - I will grab the check, hand the server my card, and say "ha!" like it's a game. While this is fine with friends who will get me a round next time, it's very bad on dates. Guys leave with the impression that I really like them. How could they not when I demanded I buy dinner?
And that's what I did. When the check came, I insisted upon getting dinner and the last round of drinks - talk about mixed signals.
Anyhow, we parted ways with him saying we should meet up again and me agreeing because I was trying to be polite. I should have e-mailed him the next morning and said, "Look, I don't see us as more than friends," but I didn't. Embarrassed for getting so plastered with a stranger, I simply let it go. A week later he e-mailed me and suggested we get a drink. I put it off for a while, citing my busy schedule (which was true) but finally he came up with a date I could make, so I went to the pub.
Date 2: At this point I was willing to give him one more chance to spark something romantic in me. Not that he had any control over it but you get the idea. We met at a bar for a pint. Conversation was less flowy at first but got rolling quickly. All the same, I was still felt we were headed for Friendship Land. Did I tell him? No, because like I said, I'm a teenager at dating. Instead, we got the check after the second round. The kicker? He didn't pay. Or even offer to pay. I got dinner last time, he could at least offer to buy me a couple beers. It annoyed me but I just smiled and said "later". Again, I neglected to tell him (or even e-mail him) that I was uninterested in him other than as a friend. (Heck, maybe he feels that way too and that's why he didn't want to pay the tab.)
This is where we stand. He's e-mailed me a few times but both of us were out of town for the holidays. It's probably wrong but I feel I owe it to FF to go on one more date, since I've been "stringing him along" via e-mail for the past month. If I still don't think it's going anywhere, I've got to suck it up and tell him so. I just wish I weren't such a wimp. It's not going either of us any good. And who knows... maybe armed with a new 2007-perspective, I'll fall madly in love with FF and be glad I didn't blow him off. But probably I won't.
I'm so bad at this! There are a lot of Death Cab songs about chickening out and running the other way. Maybe I need to get some new music?
I'm a jerk. I'll be the first to admit it. Also, I am not the most mature in relationships. Let's just say I had my first boyfriend in kindergarten and I don't think I've progressed much since then. I'm working on it.
So here's the deal with Friend's Friend, previously mentioned in this post. We went on two dates last year.
Date 1: We met at a bar and got a pitcher of beer. The mutual friend who set us up had shown me a photo and while I was not too impressed with appearance, some people are not photogenic (myself included). Besides, as I said, we had a lot in common on paper. He did look better in person but there still wasn't much physical attraction on my end. Still, we drank, we talked about our love of old sci-fi shows and comedies and books we'd read and before I knew it, I was pretty tipsy. I agreed to move it to one of my favorite bars, where we drank yet more beer. FF had a great since of humor and I like funny drinking buddies. We were alternating paying for pitchers and it felt like I was drinking with a pal from work. Getting drunk on a first date is the opposite of smart. I shouldn't have done it. I'd had a shitty week and I was stressed and a million other generic excuses. It was DUMB. Eventually we wound up at a Bar & Grill to get some dinner.
Here's a little-known fact about me: when I am drunk I insist on paying the tab. I have no idea where this intoxicated generosity comes from. Maybe I want to be liked. Anyone's who gotten drunk with me can testify - I will grab the check, hand the server my card, and say "ha!" like it's a game. While this is fine with friends who will get me a round next time, it's very bad on dates. Guys leave with the impression that I really like them. How could they not when I demanded I buy dinner?
And that's what I did. When the check came, I insisted upon getting dinner and the last round of drinks - talk about mixed signals.
Anyhow, we parted ways with him saying we should meet up again and me agreeing because I was trying to be polite. I should have e-mailed him the next morning and said, "Look, I don't see us as more than friends," but I didn't. Embarrassed for getting so plastered with a stranger, I simply let it go. A week later he e-mailed me and suggested we get a drink. I put it off for a while, citing my busy schedule (which was true) but finally he came up with a date I could make, so I went to the pub.
Date 2: At this point I was willing to give him one more chance to spark something romantic in me. Not that he had any control over it but you get the idea. We met at a bar for a pint. Conversation was less flowy at first but got rolling quickly. All the same, I was still felt we were headed for Friendship Land. Did I tell him? No, because like I said, I'm a teenager at dating. Instead, we got the check after the second round. The kicker? He didn't pay. Or even offer to pay. I got dinner last time, he could at least offer to buy me a couple beers. It annoyed me but I just smiled and said "later". Again, I neglected to tell him (or even e-mail him) that I was uninterested in him other than as a friend. (Heck, maybe he feels that way too and that's why he didn't want to pay the tab.)
This is where we stand. He's e-mailed me a few times but both of us were out of town for the holidays. It's probably wrong but I feel I owe it to FF to go on one more date, since I've been "stringing him along" via e-mail for the past month. If I still don't think it's going anywhere, I've got to suck it up and tell him so. I just wish I weren't such a wimp. It's not going either of us any good. And who knows... maybe armed with a new 2007-perspective, I'll fall madly in love with FF and be glad I didn't blow him off. But probably I won't.
I'm so bad at this! There are a lot of Death Cab songs about chickening out and running the other way. Maybe I need to get some new music?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
