"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.
January 28, 2007
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?
January 5, 2007
Wring the Profile: Harder Than It Should Be
It's lazy, yes, but it's true: I have been starring at the Nerve.com profile page for an hour and cannot bring myself to fill it out.
For one thing, I don't have a good recent photo. I'm as photogenic as a stock of asparagus; it literally takes fifty photos for one to resemble me, without my eyes shut or tongue out. I have this bad habit of making a screwed up face the minute a camera is on me, and besides, I'm almost always the one taking the photos when I go out. It's rare than someone snaps one of me. And most of them are taken when I'm falling-down-drunk which is never a flattering look.
Well forget the photo. I have older ones that still resemble me, although recently I've dyed my hair a different color. I can get away with one of those until I can snap a new one.
Normally I love to talk about myself. This blog is a good testiment to that. But I look at these questions and just sigh, roll my eyes, and remember the bad dates I've been on from similiar profiles. These sorts of questions ("describe your personal stye" "what would you do with a million dollars?") make me feel like a contestant on Miss America or Top Model.
As for describing what I'm looking for, I couldn't be worse at this. Of course I have an idea of what I want in a boyfriend but of all my past relationships, none of the guys fit into a certain mold. And of course, those didn't work out, so are they even a good basis for what to look for? I know what I like: sense of humor, sponteneousness, boyish at heart but still able to be an adult. If I write a vague description, I increase the chances of meeting people, but being too vague will lead to a pleathora of bad dates.
Why is this so hard?!
[Edit: An Hour Later: It is Done! Now I just have to wait 48 hours for the site to approve it.]
For one thing, I don't have a good recent photo. I'm as photogenic as a stock of asparagus; it literally takes fifty photos for one to resemble me, without my eyes shut or tongue out. I have this bad habit of making a screwed up face the minute a camera is on me, and besides, I'm almost always the one taking the photos when I go out. It's rare than someone snaps one of me. And most of them are taken when I'm falling-down-drunk which is never a flattering look.
Well forget the photo. I have older ones that still resemble me, although recently I've dyed my hair a different color. I can get away with one of those until I can snap a new one.
Normally I love to talk about myself. This blog is a good testiment to that. But I look at these questions and just sigh, roll my eyes, and remember the bad dates I've been on from similiar profiles. These sorts of questions ("describe your personal stye" "what would you do with a million dollars?") make me feel like a contestant on Miss America or Top Model.
As for describing what I'm looking for, I couldn't be worse at this. Of course I have an idea of what I want in a boyfriend but of all my past relationships, none of the guys fit into a certain mold. And of course, those didn't work out, so are they even a good basis for what to look for? I know what I like: sense of humor, sponteneousness, boyish at heart but still able to be an adult. If I write a vague description, I increase the chances of meeting people, but being too vague will lead to a pleathora of bad dates.
Why is this so hard?!
[Edit: An Hour Later: It is Done! Now I just have to wait 48 hours for the site to approve it.]
January 2, 2007
“Wink” At This!
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