Chill the F@&% Out

Ah, lazy Sundays. Right now, I'm sitting on my couch half watching the new season of Top Chef (but let's be honest, nothing compares to the first season!) with a little kitty snuggled up right next to me. No, I'm not 45 years old. I'm actually 27, but I do occasionally wear a moo-moo. What? They're comfortable!! Jeez.

Last night, I had several parties to attend, because I'm like the most popular girl (a la Teen Witch). My friend was having a milestone birthday (yeah, girl! you are flirty at thirty! and looking damn fine, I might add), and my cousin brought me to a holiday party before the big birthday bash. It was a night to remember! Too bad, I was so tired and hung over from the night before that I didn't last much longer past midnight. Did I mention that I'm not 45 years old?

Before I went out, I was napping on my couch while watching Goonies and Goonies never say die! They say pass away, it's just more formal and less harsh sounding. My friend LP gives me a holler a little while before I was about to go out. See, she had two dates planned for this weekend: one for Saturday night and one for Sunday night. Wooo-eee! I'm not gonna lie, I was a little jealous! But at the same time, so excited for her. I'm thinking that she is calling me about pre-date worries, all the stuff. But no, she calls because she thinks she being stood up. So lame!

These are the facts (sorry, I love Pushing Daisies! Something about a man being able to bring things back to life! Ooh, I'm sure he could revive my loins! Oh, wow. Over the line!): LP met this dude out at a club last Saturday night. We had a girl dance party and it ... was... awesome! I love shaking it on the dance floor! Mostly, I'm just trying to make sure that I don't fall over or spill my drink. Anyway, so he got her number and started texting her the very next day! Oohh! Nice, he's interested! He asked her out and they had plans for Saturday night. But, she never heard from him past Wednesday. And still has not heard from him! I mean, what? As she's telling me this story, I'm shaking my head with my "of course, that's so typical" look on my face.

A few weeks ago, I met this guy at an improv show. He was super cute and super into me. Woot! I went back to his place that night and had a lot of fun. I'll spare you the non-details. So, this guy was texting me during that day - the day I left his apartment - and the next day asked me out, via text message. I told him, "sure!" because I have no life, noooo, because he was super nice and cool. I'm not that desperate! Am I? I might be. Anyway. So, I never heard from him, but I did run into him again, and repeat the whole paragraph. Went home with him, da da da, texting, then nothing.

First of all, what is it with texting? I understand that it's easier to ask someone out that way, because you don't have to risk immediate rejection, but grow a pair! Give a girl a call! It's really not that hard. Suck it up if you get rejected! How else will you get accepted? Yeah, words of wisdom right there. I should copyright that shit.

Second of all, why ask someone out when you were just feigning interest in the person! I don't have time for that shit. Listen, fellas, not every girl you meet wants to marry you or even have a serious relationship with you! We have needs too. You all need to chill the fuck out. Guys are so scared that women are going to get super attached and that every woman has wedding bells in her ears constantly. Get over yourselves! I don't know if I even want to get married. So, like I said, chill the fuck out. Relax, go out with a person, if it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out. Women in New York are used to the dating scene; we are used to getting rejected and rejecting people. That's how dating works. It's not anything new. It's the same basic concept as dating in high school or college, except this time, you aren't worried about if Johnny is going to dump you in front of the whole school or via a note or if you break up and you still live on the same floor in the dorm.

I actually talked to few of my guy friends about this very topic of guys thinking that girls will get super attached. I told them to "chill the fuck out and get over yourselves." There's obviously a theme here.

So guys, if you want to go out with a girl, ask her out, then TAKE her out. Don't pretend that you want to date someone, when all you are really looking for is "does she want to date me?" I know that game. You just want some validation, then to move on. Puff up your ego a little bit, because some girl you met for a few hours wants to go out with you again. Why is that such a weird concept? It's not like we know each other well enough to get seriously offended.

Also, CALL. Texting is cute, but if you actually want to take someone out, you will call them and make plans right then and there. It's not brain surgery. Lastly, don't waste my time! I have a very busy television watching schedule, and when I set up my dvr, I expect to not be home to watch those shows. That makes no sense.

Ladies, take it all with a grain of salt! It's easier to laugh this stuff off, because when it comes down to it, women are more chilled out about dating than guys are. For sure. Like, guys are crazy scared.

Everyone else (who's not a guy or a lady), chill the fuck out.

Jealousy Does Not Become You

I'm about to get serious on your asses! You betta believe! I'm hung over on a rainy Sunday evening, so there is some great television to watch right now. Including all three Lord of the Rings movies. Score! It's an addiction, I have to watch them when they are on TV. I have no idea why. Alas, you don't want to hear about my awesome TV choices! So, I'll dive right in...

All I know about jealousy, I learned from watching True Life: I'm Jealous , which chronicles three young couples (all around or under 18 years of age, so you know, the most mature relationships ever) who suffer because of their jealousy of each other. Either both people in the relationship have cheated or just one has so that's where the jealousy stems from. It's just insane to me for several reasons: a) I can't ever imagine staying with someone who has cheated on me, but I can't say for sure, because I've never been there and b) wake up kids! you are 18 years old! Dump the jealous asshole giving you a hard time (that goes for you too fellas!) Jealousy is not an emotion I completely understand. To me, it's irrational and just brings out the ugliest in most people.

Some people! I mean really. Why can't everyone be perfect like me? So, this whole episode got me thinking about jealousy. About three years ago, I was dating this guy, hm, we'll call him Jake (like Jake Ryan from Sixteen Candles!) for anonymity purposes, not like he'll ever read this. I haven't talked to him for three years with good reason. He was a sweet guy, but a bit of a stoner. I always go for the stoner musician. He was both. Typical Anne! Why do I like the slacker crooners? There is no good reason, except maybe they'll write a song about me and wouldn't that just be... like amazing!!!! Ok, sorry.

So, Jake was a good boyfriend for awhile. He would take me out to dinner. (Oh and as a side bar, we were roommates. That's how we met. It was so awkward for our other roommate - my current roommate. I always felt so guilty about that. Bad idea!) We got along really well and acted like kids and just made out all the time. It was excellent. And so high school. He just had this really jealous streak in him with no real reason to back it up. I have never cheated on a boyfriend and I never gave him the impression that I would. I was completely infatuated with him - I mean he was, like, a total babe! Too many 80s and 90s references... He was jealous of my friendship with my bff and thought I was hooking up with her. Uh, what? Just because she's a lesbian doesn't mean that she makes out with all the girls that she knows. And he was also self-concious because I had dated more guys that he had (but with girls). It was ridiculous.

Around Halloween-time, I was trying to come up with good costume ideas that would go with my glasses. I forgot to get contacts in time. Sad. So I came up with the genious idea to be Jan Brady for Halloween! I know, awesome, right? I went to Target after work with one of my good pals to pick up a doll, you know, for my George Glass (as many of you should know, Jan made up a boyfriend and called him GG. She's my hero), and I ended up buying a Ken doll. Perfect! I meet up with Jake back at our place and I'm super excited to tell him about the costume, because I think it's so funny and I am never good at coming up with costume ideas.

Once I told him what I was being and the whole George Glass shpeal, he says "What? A fake boyfriend? I'm your boyfriend. What am I supposed to do that night? You are going to be telling people you have a fake boyfriend. Do you know how that is going to make me feel?" Um, exca-uuuuuuse me? Really? Really??? I honestly did not know what to say to him. It was the stupidest thing I had ever heard, literally, the dumbest. What an idiot! We got into the biggest fight that night because of a fucking Ken doll. Redonk.

He ended up apologizing profusely only after we had a screaming match and I kept telling him to leave me alone and he kept on bothering me. That's so fun when people do that! Keep talking to you when you tell them to leave you the hell alone. It really makes you want to forgive them right then and there. Riiiiiight. So, he ended up punching a hole in the wall near where he punched the wall before because he was mad at me for not cheating on him and being a good girlfriend and cooking for him. Nice one, buddy. We broke up that night, obviously.

When I think of this story now, I just have to laugh. I don't know if it was immaturity on his behalf or if he had been hurt some way by a girl before. I just don't know. It was so crazy to me. He was so crazy to me. Woo! It was quite an adventure! That relationship. I really never knew what was going to happen. Jealousy, I will never understand you! You ugly bitch! People just become monsters when they are jealous of their partner.

Ok, I can't say that I'm perfect and have never been jealous, but I've never been so jealous that it hurts another person's feelings. You have to know your limits, people. Give a lady (or fella) her (or his) space, for crying out loud. Nobody's perfect (except for me, most of the time). I just did it again! I said I wouldn't say I was perfect. It's just so hard. I'm almost perfect.

Sigh. Rainy Sundays make me so introspective! I'm exhausted from lying on the couch! I'm going to do more of that now.

Passive Aggressive Dating

Spring has finally sprung! It's a gorgeous 70 degree evening in New York City tonight. The sun is shining and the air is warm. You ask, why are inside on such a lovely day? To which I respond, screw you, mind your own business. NO! I say, this is the first evening that I could go home right after work - and work is cra-zay at the moment - and I'm trying to write whenever I can. Even on warm sunny days. It's all for you!

My bff recently sent me a new handy dandy dating-type website thingy called "Subway Crush". It is very similar to the "Missed Connections" section of Craigslist, except it is set up by subway, giving the subway line in the appropriate colored bubble () and the headline matches the color. People write in stuff like "Cutie in floppy hat. Our hands touched." BARF. The site hasn't been populated as much as Missed Connections, and it's not nearly as raunchy. (Seriously, if you have never perused the Missed Connections, you are missing out! People write the craziest stuff. Do it next time you are bored). Oh, but I did just see the headline on Subway Crush, "Tall Drink of Water - Huge Package." Nice! That's what I like to see.

Let's face it, we spend a lot of time on the subway just as a by-product of living in NYC. I know that I see plenty of cuties every time I am on the subway, but how do you actually go about talking to someone? You write them a message after the fact, instead of just putting yourself out there and risking perhaps a little rejection. The internet! Allowing people to maintain social awkwardness since 1996 - that's the year my parents got AOL on our home computer. Yeah dial-up! I'll also admit that it can be supremely awkward to just start talking to someone on the subway, especially in rush hour prior to a morning cup of joe with about 50+ other passengers on the same train.

Even with my faithful Crazy Blind Date site, a few of the guys who I have gone out with have been very passive aggressive when asking me for a second date. Following the date, you can just have the site send your information to the person, so they can contact you. No reason to get someone's number that night, unless you really want to go out with them. Two guys got my number immediately following the date, and the one guy asked me out again that night. Total turn off, mostly because he asked me out via text message to which I turned him down via text message. But that's old news!

The last guy I went out with (who had a goatee, and you all know how I feel about goatees!) didn't even mention going out again, then that night, he sent me his information asking me if I wanted to hang out another time. It caught me off guard, because I just didn't think he was interested or that he picked up the fact that I was totally not interested.

If any of you faithful readers out there will remember the original goateed man, you should know that he got my number as we were saying our goodbyes. I genuinely wanted to go out with him again, because he was smart, funny, and seemed pretty cool. Maybe the physical attraction wasn't there, but hey you never know! I've got a keep an open mind with this whole dating thing. Like I've said before, positivity! Well, the goateed man sent me his info the next day and wrote me a really nice message, so I wrote him back and it all seemed fine. Until I got an email from him a few days later, which read:

"You had mentioned that you would be interested in meeting up again. If this is still the case, let me know when you might be free. I'm around tonight and tomorrow and maybe Saturday evening if you are interested in doing something again."

Uh, are you asking me out? Because that is the LAMEST way anyone has ever asked me out! Our previous emails were super casual, but this one sounded like he was writing to a business associate. Also, he was giving me a time table to respond (the email was written on a Wednesday afternoon). Um, ok! I'm a busy lady. I may not be able to make plans with you on a whim (even though that is the entire point of CBD, shhh). I felt like I was being scolded or something; like I should have been the one to write him about going out another time after exchanging a total of two emails. I'm sorry, but that is not the way to a girl's heart, especially mine! Take some initiative dude! I would have probably gone out with him, if he didn't send me the most passive aggressively lame email known to wo-man.

Ah, this is the city that we live in. People can easily hide behind the guise of their online selves instead of taking chances and talking to other human beings (one world, y'all). Though, I will say, it is taking a big risk to go out on a date with someone who you have no prior knowledge about. You wouldn't think that the people using such a service would be so lame! And afraid of confrontation, as I write from the comfort of my living room, typing as my online self, watching my roommate's cat chase her tail. Listen, people, I never said I was perfect!

Hopefully with the warmer weather moving in, the city will get a little happier and we will all remember that just because we are New Yorkers, doesn't mean we are too cool for school. Because that statement right there was a testament to how lame I am.

Maybe I was too harsh on the goateed man.

Naw.

PS. I learned how to set up links in my blog, which I'm sure you noticed. I totally went on overkill tonight.

Dinosaur Baseball

Good evening readers! It's a lovely Sunday night in Brooklyn as I'm prepping to watch the Rock of Love II season finale. Ah, life is good. I'm dvring it, so I can watch it commercial free, in case you were wondering about my television viewing habits. And I know you are!

This weekend was probably one that will go down in the history books. Well, it will be pretty memorable for me until the next awesome weekend that comes along. I randomly decided that I was going to go to Philly for the night earlier in the week. I had a birthday party Friday night, and you all know how I feel about parties. Love them! I didn't meet any cuties, but I did have a grand old time laying on the soft shoe for most of the night. Whatever that means! New York can get a little intense sometimes, so a night away was perfecto. My cousin and I took a long ass train down there to meet up with our other cousin. I only ever hang out with family members. It's just the way of the Goonies. And Goonies never say die!

Whenever I hang out with my family (which is always as you now know), we end up inventing about 25-30 new catch phrases within 5 minutes of being around each other. It's amazing, but anyone not involved in the creation of the phrases may feel a little put out and probably pretty freaked out. Our standard recipe of fun is: catch phrase, rinse, repeat. Basically, the whole time spent in Philly was repeating all of the funny things we came up with in the course of hanging out for a good couple of hours. At one point, I said, "I like things." Truest statement everrrrr.

So, as you can probably tell, this post will not really cover anything about dating or New York for that matter. Sometimes I have to deviate! I did go on a date in the middle of the week that I will tell you all about later.

My cousins are crazy in the best way possible. When my cousin, Chris, was a kid, he was so obsessed with dinosaurs that he made his teacher call him Reptile instead of Chris. Awesome. My cousin, Ali, drank 8 beers on Thursday night just for the hell of it. Hardcore. So, while at Chris' apartment in Philly, while we were drinking Sparks Plus (sparks plus), we invented the best game known to man. Dinosaur Baseball.

For some reason, Chris had a bag full of little plastic dinosaurs. At one point, he was standing in his living room holding a whiffle bat and the idea was born. I said, "Where is that bag of dinosaurs you were telling me about?" The next 30 minutes were spent by one person lobbing a little plastic dinosaur at another person who is up to bat. Let me tell you, I am amazing at Dinosaur Baseball. I hit almost everyone of those little dinosaurs thrown my way. The next morning, we woke up and there were teeny tiny dinosaurs spread through out the apartment. I stepped on a few of them stumbling out of bed in the morning.

Ahhhhh, the rest of the night, we just drank more and played some Wii. We were trying to rally to go out to a bar, but that just never happens when I go to Philly. We always end up having so much fun just hanging out that we rarely make it out.

Good times, good times. Ok, I'm going to finish watching Rock of Sluts Deuce. A-mazing show.

California Dreaming

Whenever the weather starts to change over from winter to spring, I start to get majorly anxious about the impending warm weather. So much so, that I think I can trick Mother Nature by wearing what I think are season appropriate clothes, even if they aren't really weather appropriate. Take that Mother Nature! You must be so bitter, making it so cold for us on the East Coast right now. Warm up already, you frigid bitch! Kidding! I love you. Now make it warm.

Sometimes it's difficult being an East Coaster, especially being a female East Coaster. My friend sent me an article today with a map of the US that identified how many more singles there are in each metro, by gender. Women equal red dots on the map (um, thanks for reminding me of my period, dude who created this map), and men equal blue dots. I live on the wrong coast. For reals. According to this map, there are 210,820 more single women than single men living in the NYC-Northern NJ area. AH! I know there are over 8 million people living in this city, but that’s just depressing! Incidentally, my friend entitled her email, “Why It’s Not My Fault That My Love Life Stinks.” With odds like that, no wonder!

As I’m studying the map more, still in shock from the huge red dot looming over NYC, I glance to California. The state contains one tiny red dot, which appears to be the location of Sacramento (at least I think it is). San Francisco has a huge blue dot, LA has a huge blue dot and two additional blue dots surrounding it. In LA, there are 89,459 more single men than women living there. Obviously, I’m not only in the wrong city, I’m in the wrong state! And in the wrong portion of the country, for that matter. The East Coast is heavily populated with red dots compared with the mass amounts of blue dots overtaking the West Coast.

In the article that accompanies this oh-so-informative map, the guy who wrote it, Richard Florida (nice name, buddy), is basically saying that people move to different regions for two reasons: job opportunities and to find a mate. Duh. Why else would I move anywhere? The typical person makes most decisions in one’s life based on these criteria (with a few exceptions, I might add!). People genuinely want to be happy – or at least I hope we all do! (Cheer up, Charlie!) – and moderately successful. The article never really mentions why there is a higher population of women on the East and men on the West, but it does mention that men are more willing to travel away from their families for work than women are. I’m not so sure about that one! I know plenty of mama’s boys on this coast, particularly in NJ (I’m not dissing you Jersey, just making a statement. I know you get rough treatment, baby).

I’m not even sure how this map makes me feel, to be honest. I looked at it and said to myself, self, you already knew this. It just makes me wonder why there are so many single women in NYC. It is the greatest city in the world! And it’s also one of those places that will always have opportunities opening up, something that women have not been privy to for as long as men have. Yeah, women in the workplace! We wear heals and we don’t care who we step on! Oh, wait, sorry, did that hurt? Let me get a bandage.

The guru often goes out to LA for work, and I’ve been incessantly asking her if she will take me out there sometime (I’ve only ever been once when I was just an innocent child). This map just gave me more reason to want to go out there.

So, here is a run down of the cities that are constantly having sausage parties: Minneapolis-St. Paul, Denver-Aurora, Las Vegas, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Seattle, Portland Dallas-Ft. Worth, and Honolulu. I expect you all to be planning a road trip at this moment.

Head of the Class

eFriends! Howdy! I had a friend in college who we all called Tex and he always said, Howdy, whenever he saw you. I always thought it was adorable. Anyway, I survived last night with limited coughing involved. Woo. I definitely said some weird things when I was out to dinner with my sister, brother-in-law and cousin. I warned them that the lack of human contact was having an effect on me. My sister said, "What are you talking about? You always say weird things." Ok, she has a point.

Sometimes I mention the fact that I do improv on this blog, which is true, but let's be honest, I take classes. I am on hiatus at the moment (lack of funds!), but I'm practicing in a group with some pretty awesome people just to keep up the skeeellllzz. I started taking classes a little over a year ago at the suggestion of my sister. I think she saw it as a way of channeling my "quirkiness." I was dating a guy at the time I started doing improv last year, who was less than impressed about my endeavor. He turned out to be a douche, obviously. Anyone who doesn't think someone who does something totally random just for the hell of it is pretty cool, is a douche. You can quote me on that. I give you permission.

Naturally, when you take a class or join some type of group (like AA or something, not to be insensitive!), you will meet new people. Fact of life. So, I was thinking that I would probably be meeting some cute, funny dudes in the process of comedy-izing myself. What? I don't know. Things were rocky with me and douche anyway, so I was a lookin'. My coworkers always ask me about my class and social life in general. I'm so popular. So, I told them that I thought it would also be a good opportunity to meet someone. My boss immediately said, "All women think that! Women take classes to learn a skill and possibly meet a guy. Guys take classes to learn a skill. Period." Truer words and so on.

In the UCB handbook of class taking, if you miss a class, you have to make it up in another group. We always had different people in our class from week to week making up for their absences. I would try not to crush on anyone in my class until it was over just to avoid awkwardness, but that rule does not apply to visitors! Oh no no no! They are fair game. Sweet! One week in particular, a super cute, funny boy audited into the class for the day (this is long after douche and I broke up and I had already taken a few levels). Suuuuper cute. I'm a school girl at heart. Can't help it. We usually go out for drinks at the end of each class, so naturally I asked cute boy if he wanted to go out for a drink with us. Naturally, he said yes. Can't resist the smile! Oh yeah.

Long story short, we ended up going to show at the UCB Theatre after drinks and he asked me for my number. Score! And he texted me the next night just to say hi. Double score! I was like, awesome, this kid likes me! And he's so cute! And funny! So, that Friday, I grew a pair and asked him if he wanted to hang out, so he invited me to this Human Giant thing going on at the MTV studios. I was like, um ok. I was thinking more of a drink and some spit swapping, but comedy in Times Square, sure. We ended up agreeing to meet outside the studios. I got there a little late, so I was freaking out a bit. Times Square on a Friday night (or any night of the week, for that matter) sucks. Monkey balls. Big ones. I live in Brooklyn for a reason.

So here I am, in the middle of Times Square, waiting. He hasn't answered my call or text. I'm in the middle of Times fucking Square. I randomly ran into his friend who I met the other night, who is a pretty cool chick, but a total improv geek. We stand around and bullshit some and she keeps trying to make jokes. She asks where the dude is and I have no clue. He isn't returning her calls either, and I'm starting to get a really bad feeling. So making friendly conversation I ask her who else is coming along. She says, "Oh it's just him and his girlfriend who is like so gorgeous you want to hate her." Uh, what? I don't even know how to react at all. "Oh, cool." I start laughing hysterically, on the inside. Of course! Of course. This stuff only happens to me. I swear! This is just too much right now.

Eventually, I told her I was going to meet up with some friends in Brooklyn. I didn't exactly have plans, but my friend, Double D, said that she would be around. I immediately call her to tell her the situation, and she tells me to meet her at the bar. I ended up getting shitty wasted until 4am with her and a few other friends who showed up. It was a pretty sweet night once I got back to Brooklyn, I have to say! But honestly, what the F! What was he thinking? He was clearly giving me signals of being single and wanting to hang out. Guys with girlfriends don't get other girls' numbers then contact them immediately with cute text messages. The guy is a complete dog.

People amaze me on a daily basis! Really they do! Sometimes in a good way and sometimes by leaving me stranded in Times Square on a Friday night with a girl I barely know only to make awkward conversation for 20 minutes. Oh, and I almost forgot. He texted, texted, me that Tuesday to apologize. Tuesday. He also apologized for not apologizing sooner. I told him it was a really shitty thing to do and he can suck it. I didn't write the last part, but when I was texting him, I rolled my eyes like no other. Take that, sucka! Feel the burn.

I almost had a run in with him recently (the whole Times Square thing happened about 8 months ago). He was sitting at a table with my friend who I was talking to, but I didn't notice him until I was almost done with my conversation (I was drunk, shh), and I only noticed him out of the corner of my eye. My friend who I was with passed by and said we were going, so I just left. Phew! Close call! I don't think I could have even been slightly nice to him. Not that I'm bitter, I just think he's a shitty person.

Ah, good times. Yes. Ok, I had one too many Guinness last night and now I need some bacon fat and cheese. Sexy. Stay beautiful. I will. Especially once I get some bacon fat.

She's a Strange One

The sickness is passing! Today is the first day in a week that I woke up feeling more like a normal human being rather than a mucus monster from outer space! muahaha. My head is much clearer and sentences are being formed much easier. And lo and behold, the backspace key is working and my filter is back up! Except for that outer space part, I apologize.

As my loyal readers (whose readership, I'm sure is dwindling, since I have left you out in the cold for so long) know, I am not normal by any means. Sure, I may seem like a normal, nice, sweet girl on the outside, but once you start to get to know me and I start to feel really comfortable with you (which, by the way, doesn't take very long), you start to see my very strange side. I attribute much of this to my lack of friends as a small child. My mom told me that she would find me in the basement numerous times just playing by myself with My Little Ponies or Barbie (suuuper girly). I think I developed an overly active and exaggerated imagination during these years, which plays out on a daily basis in my life. It works well for me when I'm doing improv, but so much when I'm trying to have a normal conversation with a person whom I've just met.

Most of my friends and family are quite used to my overactive imagination and find it to be endearing (or at least I hope they do!), but they still roll their eyes at me when I go off the map and make absolutely no sense at all. A lot of the time, I am simply trying to be funny but to no avail. My sister is usually a good reality check when I start telling the story of the lonely gas attendant and his philosophies on why he loves to pump gas, and New Jersey is the only place that lets him do it as an occupation. Sometimes I do this on road trips, but no necessarily about the gas attendant and his 15 children he needs to feed! Come on people, it's heartwarming!

Another example of my weirdness: my roommate and I have an ongoing game in our apartment that involves a small magazine cutout of Justin Timberlake's head. It's called, "Find Justin." Basically, as you can imagine, one person tapes Justin's head cleverly somewhere in the apartment and the other person has to find it, then puts it in another discreet location. It's probably the most amazing game, and I didn't come up with it! I give full credit to my roommate with whom I share a wacky sense of humor. I don't think anyone else in the world would have been as excited about this game immediately when she mentioned it besides me. There is no final objective. We don't do it on a daily basis. It's just amusing to look around and see a teeny tiny Justin head taped on your painting, really amusing.

So, I was recently watching a preview to this movie, "My Sassy Girl," in which Elisha Cuthbert is a wacky girl and Jesse Bradford falls in love with her. The beginning of the trailer says, "She's beautiful. She's talented. She's crazy." Why are quirky women always crazy!? She believes in aliens, so what? I believe in cashmere (that was for my roommate, don't even try to decipher). Ok, so she really is kinda crazy from what the trailer tells me, and trailers don't lie, people! They may just include the "best" parts of the movie and some trailers may even be better than the movies...regardless.

The movie trailer got me to thinking. I may be a little crazy, quirky and down-right strange sometimes, but I'm not that strange. I do have a job, and a good one at that! I do have friends who like me, so I'm not a complete werido. If Jesse Bradford can fall in love with someone who slaps him in the face for no reason, I should be able to find a guy who can tolerate my inane stories about gas attendants and strategic placement of Justin Timberlake's head in my apartment. I mean really.

So, since the sickness is passing, I'm going out for my cousin's birthday party tonight. Whenever I don't interact with people for a couple of days, I get extremely wacky, so I am expecting some major eye rolls and/or laughs tonight from the crazy shit that is bound to come out of my mouth. Not shit literally, but words, you know? Of course you know. And here it starts.

On My Sick Bed

Thankfully, I'm not dying, but it sure feels like it. I've been home sick from work for the past day and a half. At this point, I have coughed so much and so often that my back and stomach are killing me. On the plus side, my abs are so defined right now! So, my diet recommendation is to get deathly ill, so you are practically coughing up your lung for about two days, then you will have killer abs. Forget the possibility of contracting bronchitis or pneumonia. Copyright! Now, I shall make my millions.

Obviously, I haven't been dating for the past week, because of my sexy cough. And prior to that I was in Cambridge for work, then London for gay clubbing. Unfortunately, the boys in Cambridge are all about 18 or 19 years old or completely ancient, just slightly young/old for my taste and age for that matter. And the boys I was chilling with in London are friends of mine from my partying days in the U.K., and they are all gay. Lovely, but gay. I did try to set up a few crazy blind dates (which by the way is getting some buzz these days), but bailed on them due to my impending cold and lack of adjustment to the time difference. So, basically haven't been "in the mood."

Honestly, it takes a lot of energy to sit through two hours of awkward conversation, which most of my dates have been like, and I haven't had that energy lately. I'm hoping that when the weather starts warming up, so will my loins. EW! Sorry, but I just can't backspace today. There's a malfunction.

My guru and I already have a dream vacation booked for this summer, which I am so looking forward to. We have booked a week in the beautiful Turks and Caicos at none other than Club fucking Med. AHHHH yeah. And to top it off, it's a singles resort. Either I'm super awesome, or super pathetic. Personally, I think I'm awesome. I am so wishing that it was vacation time right now, but I have to be patient until the ultimate party.

The story goes... A few months ago, I emailed the guru, "I am going on a vacation this summer. I need a vacation this summer. Where should I go? Do you want come?" Simple and sweet. She wrote back, "YES! Club Med?" And the idea was born. The brilliant idea was born. Her parents have gone to this resort many times and love it, which I think is pretty funny. It's a singles resort. This actually makes me really excited to meet her parents too. They know how to throw down yo!

I expect many stories to come from this vacation, which excites me more than you know! My colleagues made a comment to me when we were in Cambridge. They said, "Wow, you really like telling stories." It's pretty much all I do. And honestly, that's what makes me happy! It's the spice of life. I love entertaining people and telling crazy stories, because crazy shit happens to me quite often. I know my readers like my stories!

As I wait for my lungs to drain of the nastiness they possess, all I can think of is warm weather, sun dresses, and cute boys. Ah, spring is so close! My skin is just waiting to turn from blue-ish white to light beige. And that's being optimistic!

Online Speed Dating = ?

My roommate sent me a link to this online speed dating website, "www.speeddate.com," so I figured why not try it out! I'm in the mood for trying new things lately as is evident from this here blog. I hadn't had a chance to look at the website until tonight, when i decided to take a break from packing for my overseas adventure. Well, my trip for work, but still...

The basic concept of the site is you can peruse the eligible bachelors and possibly start an IM conversation with one, if he is also online. It functions as a normal dating sight, but gives you the option to actually "talk" to someone instead of sending an email that might just be ignored. I think I might like the email being ignored better than the onset of an IM from someone I may not really want to talk to.

I was checking my messages on the site, and let me tell you, there were a lot. They were all from dudes in their 40s living in the Midwest. Um, what? You are obviously wasting your time. I'm a city girl, boys! And, apologies, but 40 is too old for me at the moment. I'm still dealing with the fact that I'm going to be 30 in 3 whole years. Oh the horror! Thirty is actually not old at all, but it's fun to joke about it. Especially when my friends in their 30s read this blog. Hey oldies! I hope your walkers don't break.

So, anyway, I was perusing the single dudes online tonight for about 5-7 min (I've been saying that all day for some reason), and an IM pops up. I freak out and don't know what to do, so I log out immediately. What is wrong with me!? It's the internet. It's not like I'm actually out at a bar and have to talk to someone in person. He wrote, "Hey!" Nothing too complicated! Hello, Anne! A simple "hi" back probably would have been suitable.

I'm so not equipped to be dating. I'm a moron sometimes. I am really tired from the packing, which I should probably be getting back to. I'll see you all on the other side, and hopefully I'll grow a pair and be able to talk to a dude online.

Dropping the Ball, Dropping the Ball

(The title of this post should be sung to "Breaking the Law" by Judas Priest). Ok, so I seriously dropped the ball and haven’t kept my promise. I hope you can forgive me! I’ve been busy being lazy and watching marathons of Project Runway and Make Me a Supermodel. What would I do without Bravo!? I would probably be a LOT more productive. The writers strike incidentally provoked me to write.

Recently I have been bombarded by engagements. I have yet to receive a proposal, but the guy at the bodega has been eyeing me for months! Hey cutie! One of my best friends from college who is currently living in Philly called me a week or so ago to tell me that he proposed to his girlfriend of four years. It's about time buddy! As I was on the phone with him, I said, "You know I'm going to cry. I'm gonna cry." (I do have emotions. I’m not the vacant shell that you all think I am). And he knew I would. We have been friends long enough for him to know these things about me. He also told me that two of our other friends recently asked their girlfriends for their respective hands in marriage. Woah! What’s going on in Philly? Seriously. They are all in their late 20s and all engaged. And as you all know, I just entered my late 20s and am extremely single.

My best friend from childhood also got engaged. I found out from her facebook. I love social networking sites! I can spy on people who I have seen for years and years! My boss got engaged recently too. It was totally unexpected for me, because she rarely talks about her social life. She’s good at the separation of work and play. Me, I’m not so good at that. I’m constantly talking about the dates I go on and the guys I have crushes on. Most of my office has my blog link. I’m still not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe just a thing.

Personally, I’m not sure if I ever want to get married. I know plenty of perfectly happy married couples, but I’m not 100% on all the “values” of marriage. But that’s besides the point. It’s just insane to me that amount of people who are getting engaged all around me! It’s all happening at once and freaking me out a bit.

My former coworker probably went to one wedding every weekend (if not two) over each summer that I worked with her. She would always say to me, “You just wait until all of your friends start getting married.” I guess I just never thought it would start happening or I never knew when it would. She had a closet full of bridesmaids’ dresses, which I am so not looking forward to. I mean, that is, if I am chosen to ever be a bridesmaid. Don’t want to get my hopes up for a great dress that I will probably feel uncomfortable wearing for the entire wedding! I mean, that I will love. Yes. Definitely. I always wondered why she never sold them; she told me that she saw them as trophies and found them to be hilarious. I agree.

Anyway, I am nowhere near to be prepared for marriage or anything close to it. I haven’t been on a date for about a month (been busy with … stuff… yeah I have lots of things to do). I was at a happy hour with some girlfriends the other night and I couldn’t even muster up the courage to go talk to a cute guy who was very obviously checking me out for the entire night. I was just having too much fun with my ladies, and my seat was pretty awesome so I didn’t feel like moving. And I didn’t feel like expending the effort at the moment. Being in a serious relationship takes a lot of effort to frequently be expended. At this moment in my life, I’m perfectly happy being me and being able to be me. It’s selfish, but I don’t care! I’m also justifying why I’m single, but I don’t care!

The thing that gets me most about the impending weddings is that most of the people getting married are exactly my age, and I can’t fathom feeling like that right now. It makes me feel jealous and relieved all at the same time. It also makes me realize that I’m taking my time with the dating for a reason. I’ve dated enough assholes and I’m not really in the mood to date one right now. I’d much rather go out on random dates and have no responsibility tagged on with them. If they turn out to be an asshole, then I only have to see them once. Done and done.

Ah, yes the peculiarities of life. How wonderful. It’s all well and good that I can say that I can’t imagine being in a serious relationship, when it could honestly happen at any moment. I say that I won’t be prepared, but when is anyone ever prepared for the things that just seem to happen in your life?

I’m still wondering why that cute boy at the happy hour never came up to talk to me. Seriously, he was staring me down. Every time I would look in his direction, our eyes would meet. Maybe I should have just compromised my seat for the possibility of having a good conversation over a beer. Maybe next time. (The seat was pretty awesome).

Happy Me Day

Loyal readers, I have NOT forgotten about you. I've been away from the 'nets for so long, and I apologize for that. And no, I did not run off and get married or even score myself a boyfriend. I've just run out of material. NO. I haven't had the chance to write in so long! It's no excuse and I won't let you down again.

This posting is a promise posting. I will post a funny, awesome, tearful, joyful, menstrual (scratch that one) post for you all tomorrow!

For now, happy birthday to me.

Happy Hour Hijinx

I really enjoy a good happy hour. Last night my friend had a happy hour at her apartment, which doesn’t really constitute a happy hour by definition completely for me. Needless-to-say, it was still a lot of fun! Cut to drunken ice skating a few hours later, but we will get to that eventually.

Happy hours are perfect for meeting people. My cousin and I are slightly obsessed with finding the bars with the best deals for our after work drinking binges. Why pay $3 when you can pay $2? Why only get a dollar off your drink, when you can buy one and get one for free? These are the questions that plague us as we are trying to find our next new watering hole.

So, my friend’s happy hour (albeit at her home) got me thinking about the happy hours that I’ve attended over the years. Then I immediately swore off all alcohol just thinking about it. Noooo. But what did come to mind was a really funny / bizarre story about a happy hour that I attended when I first moved to the city.

I was working in the financial district, so honestly there are not that many places to go for a good drink after work, and absolutely no good happy hour deals. Most of the places are filled with financial dudes, and while they may be excellent dating candidates, I just don’t find myself having a lot in common with them. I work in non-profit. I care about the world, man. My co-workers (all female, none single, but me) decided to go out for drinks after work one day. It was a weird office, so we didn’t do this often, but why not.

We ended up talking to these really old dudes (probably 40 or something, kidding they were like 60), and it was getting to that time of departure. Before we left, though, a really cute guy started talking to me and asking me how it was going with grandpa (he wasn’t that clever, so I added that – just wanted to let you know how brilliant I am). We talked for awhile and then exchanged numbers. Awesome! He even called me a few days later to ask me out, which I happily accepted.

It was great! I had been in the city for only a few months and already someone was asking me out. This was the start of great dating ahead! Or so I thought at the time.

This boy, we shall call him Glass Man for reasons which will be explained later, and I had our date at the bar where we met. Aww! So adorable! We were talking, eating, and genuinely enjoying each other’s company. He asked me about where I went to college (American) and he said that he was from DC. So much in common! He says to me, “Yeah, so I lived with a bunch of guys a few years ago on [some street that I can’t remember the name of right now]. It was interesting. They were all swimmers at American.” Heart skips beat. Clears throat. “Which guys?”

You see I was on the swim team at American (actually I was a diver on the team), so my head stated, well, swimming. Turns out, he lived with my best friends, including my ex-boyfriend. The reason why I didn’t know him was because he was living in the house with guys when I was off in Amsterdam studying abroad. Our paths never crossed until that happy hour. I politely excused myself from the bar and went to the bathroom to have a minor freak out, and then I returned.

My ex-boyfriend had told me some crazy stories about this kid and how much the guys in the house disliked him. One story in particular was that Glass Man got so drunk one night, didn’t have his keys, so he broke a window to get into the house. My ex came home shortly after to find him bloody and in need of a hospital. The kid was a nut.

We exchanged the, “Oh wow that’s so weird!” And, “Oh, you’re Anne!” (My ex and I had unfortunately broken up while I was away in Amsterdam.) We decided to call it a night. He said he would call me, but I knew he wouldn’t. And I knew that I would not want to go out with him again. I took a cab home that night and was in shock the entire ride home. Is this what New York is going to be like? Well, kinda. I run into people all the time, but that was the weirdest run-in ever.

Ah, good times. Small world and all those sayings. Speaking of which and back to drunken ice skating… We all hopped on a trolley to the rink after the happy hour. We were some drunk monkeys. I didn’t know anyone besides my friend and her husband, so I ended up skating with some new people I just met and then eventually by myself (I only fell once). So, I’m skating around the rink and who do I see? One of my best girlfriends! It was awesome. I kept telling her how happy I was to see her and asking her if she read my blog. I was probably really annoying, but who cares!? We skated the night away! Until we got too tired. And drunk.

Playing It Obvious

I do realize that there are certain games and rules that need to be heeded in this crazy dating jungle. "Let him call you." "Let him make the first move." Blah blah blah. These rules have always evaded me for some reason. It's like a mini rebellion that burns inside me, a desire to not follow the rules and have everything magically work out. That 15 year old girl still exists, yearning to break free and take over the cruel, cruel world that exist only to spite me. "Damn you world!"

Well, I'm not as dark and mysterious as I used to me (because, come on, I was pretty hard core, purposely not studying until the last minute. Take that 10th grade). I still do find it hard to follow "rules" when dating, because I just don't think it should be that hard. Even though I have previously said that I am usually right (that was a lie), I can sometimes be wrong. Sometimes. On the rare occasion.

I was out for some drinks last night with a few girlfriends, while the Superbowl was being dvred, so we could later watch the commercials - they were pretty bad this year. Anyway, so we were talking about dating, because that's what girls do, and my one friend said she was watching Oprah recently when some kind of matchmaker was on giving dating advice. The one piece of advice that stuck with me after this whole conversation (I was drinking wine and feeling niiiiice) was to "let him be a man." Um, ok. Done, because he is one. Hopefully.

What I think she meant was, let him take care of you or at least think that he is taking care of you in some capacity. It's like, really? Am I dealing with a child? Ok, honey, you pay for me and you initiate the conversation. I'm just going to sit here and smile! Do you feeling like a man now? No? Ok, you call me first. I will sit by the phone panicking because I didn't hear from you after we had an amazing date. And instead of taking matters into my own hands, I'm just going to let an opportunity pass me by. Bye!!! Don't call! Sigh.

I understand the philosophy behind it and all, but it sucks! I don't have to like it, right? Dating is so much more complicated that I was making it out to be. I don't want that. I don't want to feel pressured to act a certain way, so that some dude likes me. It's so demeaning and so 1950. It's similar to the way I acted in high school. Coy and constantly waiting. Waiting for someone to grow a pair and ask me out. I did date a little in high school, but I was so awkward that it wasn't even that memorable, just...awkward. Hi again braces and my extremely depleted self-esteem! I totally did not miss you.

Honestly though, mostly every time I have initiated a conversation with a guy at a bar or showed that I was interested, it would blow up in my face. Like his balls would mysteriously retract up into his body because some girl thought he was cool. "Why are you interested in me? It's like your a heterosexual female and I'm a heterosexual male!" Crazy. People do pick up vibes better than you think, so that gets me into trouble. I can not play it cool for the life of me. I'm just really not that cool.

Ah, yes. More fun ahead! I'm really not that bitter, I swear. Really. I'm not. Positivity!

On a fun, totally lame note, I did a special improv performance Saturday night with a mix of people from classes and people who are regular performers at the theatre. I'm of the class distinction...for now! So, I got to be a group with the one dude who I thought was cute. I had seen him perform before and had a total improv crush on him. Hi serendipity! Thanks for showing up! So I decided that I would really try to step out in a scene with him. And ta da...I did it! I'm ridiculous.

We totally walked out together too. Awesome. I mean, he was 10 paces behind me and was with his friends. Regardless, it was at the same time, kinda. We were also standing at the same corner together. Hot. He was still talking to his friends and I was hanging with my new gay friend. Totally sweet.

Deal breaker Love maker

What am supremely cheesy title! I love it, and I know you do too. Lately I've been having a few discussions about dating standards and, more specifically, deal breakers. Everyone has their own little stipulation that if they see that annoyance in a potential partner, everything will be off. Most times it's just shallow provisos that we get caught up with - sad, but true. As my co-worker said to me today, "We're animals." And hey it's true! But at the same time, our ability to think makes us over-think too often.

I don't generally consider myself to be a shallow person, but sometimes you are more shallow that you really think you are. Oops, my bad! I have standards, as do most people. It can't be helped and most times you can't turn it off, especially when you are just jumping back into the dating scene (hey that's me!).

Turns out, I had a date the other night through my trusty crazy blind date site, go me! So, before you meet up with the person, you get to read a little bit about them (get out your witty commentary people). This preview gives you the chance to decide if you actually want to go out with them or not. And honestly, you really shouldn't be able to turn anyone down from a brief description of themselves and no picture. Oh, but I almost did.

The guy I met up with the other night wrote in a description of himself that he had a goatee, and my immediate reaction was "Ewwwww." For some reason the thought of meeting up with someone who sports a goatee really struck me as being a turn off. But why?? It really made no sense. I literally sat there for 10 minutes debating whether or not I should go out with goatee man. I mean, what? Why!? Why would I want to turn down a date because of facial hair? It seemed like the dumbest rejection ever.

I started thinking about guys who had goatees. Colin Farrell - he's hot and he has a goatee, but he's also kinda dirty. Edward Norton had a goatee! He's adorable. You may say, "But wait, Anne, didn't he have a goatee in the movie, American History X, where he played a scary neo-nazi?" To which I reply, "Yes, he played a sexy, scary neo-nazi who was reformed!"

I ended up biting the goateed bullet and met up with the dude. He had, in fact, shaved his goatee by the time of our meeting, so it wasn't even an issue. I'm glad I went too! He ended up being a pretty cool guy. I might even grace him with my presence again, but who knows! Lucky guy.

After I told my bff about considering not meeting up with the dude because of his facial hair disability, she told me that with her current girlfriend she gave up a lot of her former deal breaking stipulations. For as long as I have known her she has been somewhat of a music snob. Not at all in a bad way. She just knows what she likes. We are both music snobs actually, which gives us license to make fun of people who have crappy taste in music. Kidding! Not really. We bonded over the fact that we had very similar tastes in music and went to (and still do go to) numerous rockin' shows at Southpaw, Webster Hall, Bowery Ballroom, etc. The "cool" venues. We most definitely do not go see shows at Madison Square Garden, thank you very much. (Ok, except for that one time that we went to go see the Scissor Sisters and it was in the theater arena, not the main stage. That show was my pick, because I love them.)

Anyway, my bff has been very nitpicky about the people she dates and their musical tastes in the past, but currently, she is dating someone who is not at all on the same level of musical taste, and for some reason it just doesn't bother her. I didn't understand at first, especially when she told me she bought tickets for Stevie Wonder and Dolly Parton - don't get me wrong, they are both amazing musicians, but they are not the people we go to see live. She just likes her girlfriend so much that she will go see artists that she would normally scoff at people for going to see. I think that's adorable.

I may not be ready to settle on some things when I'm dating around, and I'm ok with that. I think that eventually I will let it all go and be ok with someone who has a little facial hair or possibly wears ugly sneakers (that one will be hard)! You never know what can happen when people fall in love. They get all crazy-like.

Why I Started This Blog

Hi all out there in cyberspace! Did that statement just date me? Because it seems so 1995 to say something like that. Anyway, things are going well in Anne dating land lately and in my life in general, so to speak. I decided to take this time to reflect on why this blog is in existence for all of you out there pondering, thinking or wondering about it.

Moving to New York in my early to mid-twenties (no longer early and the mid is waining on accuracy) has been a shell shocking experience that has led me on some wonderful, scary, crazy and truly amazing adventures. A lot of these so-called adventures have occurred in the company of the opposite sex. Well, the experiences that have left the most impression on me. My girlfriends and I get into some crazy situations too! I'm hip!

Men are interesting creatures, especially when they begin to think you have the smallest interest in them. For some reason, they turn into complete cads and think they have to be assholes to get the point across that, no, they don't want to hook up with you. Dude, I will get the point without you being a complete dickhead and telling me about some stupid obscure story that is slightly offensive to all women. Thanks, but no thanks. I'm smart enough to get subtle hints.

So, the other night after my improv class, we all went out for drinks to try to "get to know each other." This class, for some reason, has only 5 women and 11 dudes. I walked in on the first day like, "Am I in the right place?" Lots o beef. Oh yeah. Or not. So, we're all out at the bar, sharing our other creative ventures besides improv, so I mention that I write a dating blog. The one dude (we shall call him J-face) says to me in the most pompous tone, "Oh, yeah like you didn't get that idea from Sex and the City or anything. Real original."

Literally, I was in shock. I wasn't even flirting with the guy or asking for his opinion for that matter. I just wanted to hang out and have a few beers with some compadres, but for some reason single women are seen as predators (I will eat you alive if you don't watch it!). His statement and the way he said it was just so unnecessarily aggressive. He continued to say completely inappropriate things to me the rest of the night, almost like a little boy pulling a little girl's hair to let her know that he liked her and that he probably had a potential career as a spouse abuser in the future. Congrats to you!

J-face says that I can interview him for my blog (oh joy!), so I begin to interview him about his dating life. Turns out, he has a girlfriend and has had one for the past six months, but prior to the girlfriend, he had been just dating around with no objective. A bit like what I'm doing at the moment. Also, turns out, his answers were boring and not even worth writing about.

We ended up getting into a conversation with another improv buddy (E) of mine about dating. J-face decides to give him advice with the ladies. He tells E (who is adorable, hilarious, and 23 years old), that in order to break the ice on a date, he should tell a joke. I was like, no way, just be yourself. The joke he told E to tell was, and I quote, "What type of bees produce milk?... Boobies!" What? Am I suddenly 11 years old again and feeling extremely uncomfortable about a joke referencing the female anatomy? Yes.

This is the mentality of some of the men I come across in my humble (yet awesome!) life. I totally shot down the joke idea, but my advice didn't go over so well. I mean honestly, if some guy told me that joke on a first date, I would pretend that I wasn't really his date and there was some sort of mix-up.

Don't get me wrong, there are some great and amazing guys out there, and I know this. I mean, I keep telling myself this. It's like a mantra of mine. I know some of these amazing guys. They do exist! They are not unicorns. They are real. It's just the super lame ones always stick in my head, because of all of the idiotic things that come out of their mouths. Like jokes about boobies.

Oh! And I was telling my friend about J-face the other night. She told me that our friend had actually gone out on a date with him a few months ago, and he was a complete ass on the date (shocker!). She found out later that he had a girlfriend. One word, classy.

CBD Parts 2&3

So the Crazy Blind Dating adventures of last week have come to a close, but certainly not for good. It's such a great way to get "back in the dating scene," if you will. Not that I was ever really out of if, but I wasn't actively pursuing any real options. I used to say, "I find dating to be frivolously," (in my pretentious I really really don't care, but I do, voice) which I somewhat still believe.

In all honesty, dating is full of many rituals and protocol. First you learn the person's name. Usually what follows is what they do for a living, furthered by if they always wanted to do what they do. Then followed up with extra-curricular activities. I mean there is also room for story telling and random banter, but that can only happen if you really hit it off with a person.

So, let's take for instance Part 2 of CBD. I meet this guy at a swank place - way too swank for either of us. We ended up having one drink each then going to an Irish pub for some beers. Well, right off the bat, he starts telling me some random stories about him and his friend who frequent a pretty well-known bar in the city and how they always end up being the center of attention with their ability to cut a mean rug. I ask him, "Now do you attract all the attention because you are an amazing dancer? Or is it because you get ridiculously drunk and make a fool of yourself?" He answers, what I believe is honestly, "A little bit of both" (with a cute smile I might add).

He continues to tell really random stories and I share a few myself. I thought he was messing with half the time just to see if I would react to what he was saying, but not much really fazes me anymore these days. (I even told him later in the night that I thought he was messing with me. I have no gauge. I am too honest sometimes.) We ended up having a really great time hanging out with one another and the subject of "what we do" never came up until we were well into our first beer at the second bar. This, for me, was a definite sign of a good date. We ended up walking to the subway together and making out on a crusty subway platform (HOT!), but I seriously doubt I'll hear from him again. He didn't seem like the type to call.

CBD Part 3 was much like Part 1. The guy I met up with ended up talking a lot about himself, not really giving me a chance to speak about anything. And at this point I had been on three dates in three nights, so small talk wasn't coming so easy to me. The bonus of this date, though, was I got to experience an awesome bar that I had never been to before. Score for hidden places in NYC! The guy was nice enough, but I really couldn't hear anymore about the lighting company that he worked for and blah blah blah. That's what it sounded like by the end of the night. I was also coming down with a cold, so my patience was waining for many reasons.

(And as an aside, he was definitely flirting with the bartender at one point. I didn't really care . Is that bad? She looked extremely uncomfortable with the situation though.)

I went out to dinner with a few of my girlfriends the next night (screw the cold!), and talked about my date Part 3. My friend / guru had had a very similar experience the night before, as she had tried out CBD as well. She said that anytime she would try to relate to whatever the guy was talking about, he would listen, but then continue on with his point. Exactly what was happening with me! Weird.

I don't get it. Isn't normal conversation just a big jumble of different stories and points of view? Isn't that what makes life interesting? Finding that relation with another human being, rather than just talking about whatever stupid point you are trying to make. Making a connection. Isn't that the whole point of dating?

I may be wrong, but let's face it, I rarely am. I predict that the change from extremely cold to warm is the cause of my cold. I'm probably right about that.

Crrrazy Blind Dating

Aah, it's been so long! Oh how I've missed you and I know you have been missing me, my loyal readers (all five of you!!!! Hi everyone). It's been a busy holiday season for me with many fun stories to be told. I have made a new year's resolution (that I have been testing out pre-New Year's Eve), which is to put myself out in the dating game as much as possible. I am full force! Not that I lack confidence, but I think dating can be extremely awkward, so I figured, the more I do it, the less awkward it will be. Here's hoping!

In the holiday spirit, a couple of my girlfriends and I went ice skating about a week ago. We thought it would be a fun alternative to the bar scene, and we were right! It was such a fun night, but my legs were super sore the next day from dodging all the fallen children (they really go down like dominoes). As we were lacing up to hit the ice my one friend says, "this has to be the worst place ever to find a single man." As I look around, all I can see are little children and happy couples gleefully skating on the very rough ice. That's not what this night is about anyway!

As the Zamboni starts eliminating all the jacked up ice, we sit around and talk in the cold. My friend mentioned a new dating site to me (www.crazyblinddate.com) and how she tried it out and really liked it. Basically instead of going through all the ridiculousness of finding someone through online dating, they do it for you! You just enter in your information and hope that Prince Charming is waiting for on the other e-side. This sounds a-ma-zing. Why not try it out!?

I decided to set up a few dates, and by a few, I mean I set up three right in a row. Oops! I got a little over zealous about the whole thing, because it's a guaranteed date (wow, I sound pathetic right now). You literally just have to answer a few questions about yourself, and what you are looking for in a person, and they match you up. You can also give feedback after the date, so they can continue to narrow down the pool of fine men for you. I hope they do well, because it's such a great concept, especially for pathetic New Yorkers much like myself.

Last night was my very first crazy blind date! It was definitely a good time and I was impressed by their pick. He was a very nice guy with lots to say, mostly about himself, but he was nice. I don't think I got more than 50 words in - and you say, "50! that's a lot!" Oh, no honey, not on a two hour date and not when you're me. He really liked talking about his boring job and how his friends own a few bars that he likes to go to. He didn't really ask me too many questions about myself, but when you are that awesome, why do you need to find out about anyone else! I mean, really.

He ended up paying for everything, which was very nice. Don't get me wrong, I had a fun time, but he isn't the man for me. He got my number after the date, which I am so bad at saying no to. And in this day of cell phones, you can never give someone the wrong number because they immediately call your phone so you have their number. How awkward when your phone just doesn't ring. Anyway, he ended up texting me last night about an hour after the date asking me out again. Awww. I feel liked! But then I felt really bad that I had to shoot him down via text message today. Ick. I feel dirty.

My roommate made an interesting observation this morning when she said, "it's so interesting how two people can have a completely different perception of what's going on." So true, so true. He liked me, but I felt like he never got to know me in the least because I didn't really talk too much the whole time. Ah, the foils of love! Or is it spoils? Or does that just not make any sense? I certainly don't know!

Onward! I am going out on another crazy blind date tonight, so hopefully it will go better or will be on the same playing level as last night. I'm really not expecting too much, which I think is helpful in these situations.

Ugh, I'm still feeling like a jerk turning that guy down. K, now I'm over it.

UPDATE: I totally forgot to include this in the run down. I told the dude last night who my favorite band was in high school and college (Weezer - hey, they were pretty rockin') and he proceeded to tell me that he saw them live once. He said he thought Rivers Cuomo was arrogant because he had his back to the crowd for a couple of songs. He incidentally gave them a bad review in some magazine he was writing for. Not the way to win a girl's heart, buddy! Try again next time. I heart Rivers Cuomo.