Guys. I'm back to online dating. I took a serious hiatus because I kept getting really weird messages like: "are you 'so excited'? what really excites you?" referencing my handle, which references Jessie Spano, duh.
So, anyway, this guy that I was just "checking out" on OkCups tonight looked super cute and funny until I kept reading his profile.
What are you really good at?
I'm a "darn good" make out partner (really who says that).
List the things you can't do without.
Something. Something. Something else. Making out.
You should message me if...
...you like making out.
OK OK OK WE GET IT YOU LIKE TO MAKE OUT.
I'm surprised that under "movies" he didn't write, "I don't watch movies, I make out during them."
I'll probably message him right after I post this.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Watch Out Ladies
Hey lady readers. I actually have a really important topic to talk about today. More and more I've been hearing stories from my friends about this new epidemic. I thought it was about time that I broached the topic in a safe forum.
Ladies, something has been going on recently that has been making many us feel uncomfortable and taking us quite off guard. Ladies, I'm talking about face rape. Yeah, that's right: facial rape. It's not ok, and it happens way way too often.
Case #1: My sister went on a date with a guy a few months ago. I think she met him on some online dating website. Often, this is where it all starts. They were out on what seemed to be a nice typical date. She wasn't "feeling" him yet, but she was enjoying her time. She was enjoying her time until... You guessed it: facial rape. She turned her head to look at something at the far end of the bar and when she turned her head back, the guy was making out with her face. Jesus. The humanity!
Case #2: My friend "Sandwiches" has entered the world of online dating recently, and she has been faring pretty well. She's a tall beauty who was looking for a tall handsome man to call her own. She had been on a few dates with her tall beau, and at the time her impression of him was that he was a kind, gentle, well-mannered young lad, until... Yes, again. They were standing on the subway platform after a very civilized date when he "started raping my face. It was so awkward!" Why!?? WHYYYYY!!!
Case #3: I went on a date recently in Brooklyn with a new guy I had met on OkCupid. He seemed pretty cool and was quite attractive. When I arrived at the bar, he gave me a hug and told me to order a drink on his tab. I was excited by the fact that he was willing to pony up on this date, though, throughout the night, he kept touching my leg and well, he kept just touching me, which shot my defenses right up.
The evening had been pretty tame, except for the odd touchy advances that I ignored, until... it just came out of no where! He randomly told me that he was going to try to make out with me (why are you telling me this? I gave you no indication that I wanted to make out with you. I actually ignored and brushed off your hand every time it touched me), and then well... he raped my face. NNOOOOOO!!!!! I just met you! I didn't ask for this! This is not ok!
So, ladies be on the lookout for face rapers. There are more out there in the world than you think. And guys, don't facially rape women. It's not cool... so not cool.
Ed note: thank you to Sandwiches for coining "face rape" and letting me use it in this post.
Ladies, something has been going on recently that has been making many us feel uncomfortable and taking us quite off guard. Ladies, I'm talking about face rape. Yeah, that's right: facial rape. It's not ok, and it happens way way too often.
Case #1: My sister went on a date with a guy a few months ago. I think she met him on some online dating website. Often, this is where it all starts. They were out on what seemed to be a nice typical date. She wasn't "feeling" him yet, but she was enjoying her time. She was enjoying her time until... You guessed it: facial rape. She turned her head to look at something at the far end of the bar and when she turned her head back, the guy was making out with her face. Jesus. The humanity!
Case #2: My friend "Sandwiches" has entered the world of online dating recently, and she has been faring pretty well. She's a tall beauty who was looking for a tall handsome man to call her own. She had been on a few dates with her tall beau, and at the time her impression of him was that he was a kind, gentle, well-mannered young lad, until... Yes, again. They were standing on the subway platform after a very civilized date when he "started raping my face. It was so awkward!" Why!?? WHYYYYY!!!
Case #3: I went on a date recently in Brooklyn with a new guy I had met on OkCupid. He seemed pretty cool and was quite attractive. When I arrived at the bar, he gave me a hug and told me to order a drink on his tab. I was excited by the fact that he was willing to pony up on this date, though, throughout the night, he kept touching my leg and well, he kept just touching me, which shot my defenses right up.
The evening had been pretty tame, except for the odd touchy advances that I ignored, until... it just came out of no where! He randomly told me that he was going to try to make out with me (why are you telling me this? I gave you no indication that I wanted to make out with you. I actually ignored and brushed off your hand every time it touched me), and then well... he raped my face. NNOOOOOO!!!!! I just met you! I didn't ask for this! This is not ok!
So, ladies be on the lookout for face rapers. There are more out there in the world than you think. And guys, don't facially rape women. It's not cool... so not cool.
Ed note: thank you to Sandwiches for coining "face rape" and letting me use it in this post.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Digital Digital Break-Up
So, friends, colleagues, lovers, haters, cats, dogs, infants, as previously mentioned, I went on a date last week. LP had been using the good ole OkCupid! recently and going on lots o dates, so I signed my cute (firm) butt up to the site – also as previously mentioned.
The first email that this guy sent to me was hilarious, and every single email after that initial contact followed suit. So, needless-to-say, I was excited to go out with the guy. From his picture, I didn’t think he was super cute, but pictures can’t always give the full … picture? … of what a person looks like. And I’m not THAT shallow. Sometimes, maybe.
We went out on our fantastical date on a rainy Monday night, and everything seemed to go wrong from the moment I met up with him. The restaurant he wanted to go to had a long wait (he didn’t make a reservation), he ordered an entire bottle of wine for our meal (that’s way too much for a first date), he told me about his ex-girlfriend (they were together for five years and they broke up after he proposed), he didn’t offer to pay (it’s the gesture that counts), he emailed me continually following the date (once when he got home that night, the next morning, another one that day, the following day, the day after). It was just a snowball of all the wrong moves.
I was feeling smothered and extremely awkward. I felt like I was already in a relationship with the guy and we got to the phase when we wear sweatpants around each other and eat ice cream out of the carton as it drips onto our sweats and gets all over our faces, then we pass out.
“Honey, pass me the remote."
“…”
“Honey!?”
“What?”
“The remote?”
“Oh. I’m hungry”
So exciting.
I am not old fashioned at all, but dating is smoke in mirrors. Yes, you should be yourself, but there are “rules” for a reason, though you shouldn’t follow them too strictly. It’s all about anticipation and the excitement (and that poopy-pants feeling) of getting to know someone slowly. Hot, right? Totally.
I blew him off over the weekend – he asked me out on Wednesday and was upset because Friday was TOO LONG to wait to see me. CHILLOUTWEJUSTMET. I know I’m pretty awesome, but work for it dude! Make me want to date you.
I had to write him the dreaded break-up email that basically said I didn’t feel the chemistry between the two of us blahbity blah blah. He was really nice in his response, which was comforting, but I still felt bad for having to write the email in the first place. I got advice from a few lady friends about what to say. Surprisingly, I have a bunch of friends who have had to write the same exact email. I’m also prone to give someone a second chance, because dates can be awkward and people get really nervous! But, it was way too much follow-up work on his behalf.
My friend once got a preemptive break up email from a potential suitor. She had gone on one date with him – met him online – and the day after their date, he wrote to her to let her down. He didn’t “feel cupid’s dart” but thought she was great, which (spoiler alert) she is. She’s one of the coolest, most bad-ass chicks I know. AND she’s extremely hot. Cupid’s dart? Really? Really? Not a super masculine thing to say. Any dude who writes that in an email isn’t good enough for that foxy lady. Not at aaaalllllll.
She thought it was hilarious that he had to write the email in the first place. “He could have just never written me and I wouldn’t have cared.”
What to do after a date! How long do you wait to contact the person if you like them? Some people say a few days. Some people say a week. Some people say … never. But those people are jerks.
The first email that this guy sent to me was hilarious, and every single email after that initial contact followed suit. So, needless-to-say, I was excited to go out with the guy. From his picture, I didn’t think he was super cute, but pictures can’t always give the full … picture? … of what a person looks like. And I’m not THAT shallow. Sometimes, maybe.
We went out on our fantastical date on a rainy Monday night, and everything seemed to go wrong from the moment I met up with him. The restaurant he wanted to go to had a long wait (he didn’t make a reservation), he ordered an entire bottle of wine for our meal (that’s way too much for a first date), he told me about his ex-girlfriend (they were together for five years and they broke up after he proposed), he didn’t offer to pay (it’s the gesture that counts), he emailed me continually following the date (once when he got home that night, the next morning, another one that day, the following day, the day after). It was just a snowball of all the wrong moves.
I was feeling smothered and extremely awkward. I felt like I was already in a relationship with the guy and we got to the phase when we wear sweatpants around each other and eat ice cream out of the carton as it drips onto our sweats and gets all over our faces, then we pass out.
“Honey, pass me the remote."
“…”
“Honey!?”
“What?”
“The remote?”
“Oh. I’m hungry”
So exciting.
I am not old fashioned at all, but dating is smoke in mirrors. Yes, you should be yourself, but there are “rules” for a reason, though you shouldn’t follow them too strictly. It’s all about anticipation and the excitement (and that poopy-pants feeling) of getting to know someone slowly. Hot, right? Totally.
I blew him off over the weekend – he asked me out on Wednesday and was upset because Friday was TOO LONG to wait to see me. CHILLOUTWEJUSTMET. I know I’m pretty awesome, but work for it dude! Make me want to date you.
I had to write him the dreaded break-up email that basically said I didn’t feel the chemistry between the two of us blahbity blah blah. He was really nice in his response, which was comforting, but I still felt bad for having to write the email in the first place. I got advice from a few lady friends about what to say. Surprisingly, I have a bunch of friends who have had to write the same exact email. I’m also prone to give someone a second chance, because dates can be awkward and people get really nervous! But, it was way too much follow-up work on his behalf.
My friend once got a preemptive break up email from a potential suitor. She had gone on one date with him – met him online – and the day after their date, he wrote to her to let her down. He didn’t “feel cupid’s dart” but thought she was great, which (spoiler alert) she is. She’s one of the coolest, most bad-ass chicks I know. AND she’s extremely hot. Cupid’s dart? Really? Really? Not a super masculine thing to say. Any dude who writes that in an email isn’t good enough for that foxy lady. Not at aaaalllllll.
She thought it was hilarious that he had to write the email in the first place. “He could have just never written me and I wouldn’t have cared.”
What to do after a date! How long do you wait to contact the person if you like them? Some people say a few days. Some people say a week. Some people say … never. But those people are jerks.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Ok, Cupid
Oh man readers! I started online dating! Again! I tried doing this a few years ago and I absolutely hated it. I got a few messages from only really creepy guys, but I never ended up going out on any dates with anyone.
“Is there no one out there who is normal and wants to date me!?”
I shouted that many times out my bedroom window and the crazy old lady across the street looked at me like she saw a younger version of herself. I immediately puked, showered, brushed my teeth and hooked up with a young Hispanic dude in my building. None of that actually happened. Or did it!?!?!
At any rate! My good pal, LP, told me that she had been using OkCupid! for awhile and lurved it. She was going out on lots of dates, and she assured me that there are far more normal peeps on this site as compared to the site I was using. In fact, she and the guru have been dating a lot lately (sluts! Kidding LOVE YOU) and I felt like I should throw myself in the mix, get some hunky dude to take me out, take me dancing or something...
Or he could take me to a really fancy restaurant and have the maître d hire a violinist to play a beautiful song while an opera singer backs him up. Then, he’ll take me back to his place where it’s covered in roses and lit candles, but it’s not a fire hazard, it’s an amazing love den for the two of us! Can you imagine!? Ah, such romance. Such intimacy. (This entire entry is being written in bed while my cat chases her tail. I am awesome.)
While I wait for the inevitable (or impossible), I will have to resort to dating some dudes online or at least emailing with them. OkCupid are the same people who bring us all Crazy Blind Date, and you all know how I feel about Crazy Blind Date. It’s pretty much amazing and everyone needs to do it at least once. Fo reals. It’s the shiznizzle bomb.
OkCupid has so far been really great. I’ve gotten a bunch of messages from normal sounding dudes and have even gone out on a date! I’ve been on the site for a week, and I had a date! Me! A DATE! The date was a lot of fun and I’ll have to update you on that later, because of course there were plenty o awkward moments...
For now, there are more important matters at hand. While OkCupid has given me a much better experience this time around with online dating, there is still some weird shit going on. Not gonna lie. I hate the whole “wink” function. I understand that people are shy about dating and that’s why they signed up to date online, but just write a message. On the other hand, I’ve gotten a message that probably should have been a wink. It read: Hello. I came in my pants when I read that. Such poetry! So much effort!
I’m a bitch. I know.
But the best message that I have received so far was sent to me by a 37 year old man, who doesn’t even have a picture up on his profile, he has a painting of a woman. His message will live forever in my mind. His heart will go on.
“you are so pretty and feminine.... ;-) so lucky to be a girl.
hugs
xo”
Thank…you? I am lucky to be a girl, especially once a month. Right!? Too much, sorry. Yeah, so I just ignored this message. It doesn’t make any sense and in all honesty, it freaked me out. I went to his profile to see what his deal was and I found that he is married. Married. He is married. Who married him?? Apparently, he and his wife are A-OK with having lovers. That concept makes me uncomfortable. I don’t really think you should get married if you want to have lovers, but that’s just me. Call me old fashioned!
So, I thought I would never hear from him again, since I blatantly ignored his message, but today as I was trying to find my dream man who will take me on horseback rides in the Caribbean and draw a bath for me after a long day with cold champagne ready for the drinkin’ all set up near the heart shaped bath tub… Ah sorry. Fantasies are getting out of hand!
Anyway, I got an IM from the married dude:
“is it weird that as a man i want a special female friend who has or might have another male lover?”
WHAT! We just went from Weirdsville to Whatthefuckisgoingontown. Who writes that!? There was no, “Hi, how you doing? Crazy weather we’re having? I like my ladies to have multiple lovers. Interested?”
Needless-to-say, I blocked the guy. I definitely don’t need head cases contacting me on a dating website, and I definitely don’t want to date someone who is openly cheating on their wife either. Even if they are both cool with it. It freaks me out.
Sigh! Don’t worry though. I have faith in this website. I will find that man who will let me sleep late because I had a long night, then bring me breakfast in bed because I’m too hungover to get up. He’ll make the best omelet I’ve ever tasted and bring me coffee straight from Columbia surprising me with tickets to Columbia and we’ll laugh and pack and leave the country without a worry in the world! Sigh, indeed.
Until then, I’ll try to steer clear of Whatthefuckisgoingontown and you should to.
“Is there no one out there who is normal and wants to date me!?”
I shouted that many times out my bedroom window and the crazy old lady across the street looked at me like she saw a younger version of herself. I immediately puked, showered, brushed my teeth and hooked up with a young Hispanic dude in my building. None of that actually happened. Or did it!?!?!
At any rate! My good pal, LP, told me that she had been using OkCupid! for awhile and lurved it. She was going out on lots of dates, and she assured me that there are far more normal peeps on this site as compared to the site I was using. In fact, she and the guru have been dating a lot lately (sluts! Kidding LOVE YOU) and I felt like I should throw myself in the mix, get some hunky dude to take me out, take me dancing or something...
Or he could take me to a really fancy restaurant and have the maître d hire a violinist to play a beautiful song while an opera singer backs him up. Then, he’ll take me back to his place where it’s covered in roses and lit candles, but it’s not a fire hazard, it’s an amazing love den for the two of us! Can you imagine!? Ah, such romance. Such intimacy. (This entire entry is being written in bed while my cat chases her tail. I am awesome.)
While I wait for the inevitable (or impossible), I will have to resort to dating some dudes online or at least emailing with them. OkCupid are the same people who bring us all Crazy Blind Date, and you all know how I feel about Crazy Blind Date. It’s pretty much amazing and everyone needs to do it at least once. Fo reals. It’s the shiznizzle bomb.
OkCupid has so far been really great. I’ve gotten a bunch of messages from normal sounding dudes and have even gone out on a date! I’ve been on the site for a week, and I had a date! Me! A DATE! The date was a lot of fun and I’ll have to update you on that later, because of course there were plenty o awkward moments...
For now, there are more important matters at hand. While OkCupid has given me a much better experience this time around with online dating, there is still some weird shit going on. Not gonna lie. I hate the whole “wink” function. I understand that people are shy about dating and that’s why they signed up to date online, but just write a message. On the other hand, I’ve gotten a message that probably should have been a wink. It read: Hello. I came in my pants when I read that. Such poetry! So much effort!
I’m a bitch. I know.
But the best message that I have received so far was sent to me by a 37 year old man, who doesn’t even have a picture up on his profile, he has a painting of a woman. His message will live forever in my mind. His heart will go on.
“you are so pretty and feminine.... ;-) so lucky to be a girl.
hugs
xo”
Thank…you? I am lucky to be a girl, especially once a month. Right!? Too much, sorry. Yeah, so I just ignored this message. It doesn’t make any sense and in all honesty, it freaked me out. I went to his profile to see what his deal was and I found that he is married. Married. He is married. Who married him?? Apparently, he and his wife are A-OK with having lovers. That concept makes me uncomfortable. I don’t really think you should get married if you want to have lovers, but that’s just me. Call me old fashioned!
So, I thought I would never hear from him again, since I blatantly ignored his message, but today as I was trying to find my dream man who will take me on horseback rides in the Caribbean and draw a bath for me after a long day with cold champagne ready for the drinkin’ all set up near the heart shaped bath tub… Ah sorry. Fantasies are getting out of hand!
Anyway, I got an IM from the married dude:
“is it weird that as a man i want a special female friend who has or might have another male lover?”
WHAT! We just went from Weirdsville to Whatthefuckisgoingontown. Who writes that!? There was no, “Hi, how you doing? Crazy weather we’re having? I like my ladies to have multiple lovers. Interested?”
Needless-to-say, I blocked the guy. I definitely don’t need head cases contacting me on a dating website, and I definitely don’t want to date someone who is openly cheating on their wife either. Even if they are both cool with it. It freaks me out.
Sigh! Don’t worry though. I have faith in this website. I will find that man who will let me sleep late because I had a long night, then bring me breakfast in bed because I’m too hungover to get up. He’ll make the best omelet I’ve ever tasted and bring me coffee straight from Columbia surprising me with tickets to Columbia and we’ll laugh and pack and leave the country without a worry in the world! Sigh, indeed.
Until then, I’ll try to steer clear of Whatthefuckisgoingontown and you should to.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Happy Valentine's, Lovelies!
A very happy Valentine's day to you all! Picture me: home watching movies, covered in blankets, sipping tea and snuggling with my cat. All true! I'm sick as a dog (whatever that saying means anyway, are dogs sick? and if so, how sick?) with some kind of cold and / or flu. I was planning to go over to my good friend / favorite chef's apartment for chocolate, wine and scary movies, but I shook the Magic 8 Ball and "outlook not good." Instead, I fear that I will be stuck at home watching crappy movies all day long.
SIIIIIIIGH.
Sadly, I don't actually have any good Valentine's day stories. I can't even remember the last time I had a "special someone" on this very blessed day. A-men. Or perhaps "A Man!" What!? I don't know. I think the cold medicine is making me loopy.
My friend wrote me earlier in the week saying that she was looking forward to a Valentine's day posting, so I told her that I was going to go out to a bar or restaurant to hit on people today just so I could have something to write. And by people, I meant couples. Like, join their dates and make them feel awesomely uncomfortable. How lucky they would have been! But alas, all my plans are now nil because I went ahead and got sick.
So, I'm going to take this time to tell everyone who reads this blog that I love you. I love you so much. You read my ramblings. You love me for my awkwardness. You love me for how pathetic I truly can be at times. And I love you for loving me. So come here. Come closer. Close your eyes.
SIIIIIIIGH.
Sadly, I don't actually have any good Valentine's day stories. I can't even remember the last time I had a "special someone" on this very blessed day. A-men. Or perhaps "A Man!" What!? I don't know. I think the cold medicine is making me loopy.
My friend wrote me earlier in the week saying that she was looking forward to a Valentine's day posting, so I told her that I was going to go out to a bar or restaurant to hit on people today just so I could have something to write. And by people, I meant couples. Like, join their dates and make them feel awesomely uncomfortable. How lucky they would have been! But alas, all my plans are now nil because I went ahead and got sick.
So, I'm going to take this time to tell everyone who reads this blog that I love you. I love you so much. You read my ramblings. You love me for my awkwardness. You love me for how pathetic I truly can be at times. And I love you for loving me. So come here. Come closer. Close your eyes.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Guest Blogger?
SO my dedicated readers! Since I posted the epic story, "The Hobble," the guru has become friends (just how good is still pending) with said hobble, Blainebo. Turns out, he's pretty awesome (pending further approval). AH, connections! Drunk ass connections! I've actually been keeping in touch with him as well.
The guru went ahead and sent him the posting for "The Hobble" and he luuuurved it. He lurved it so much that he was all jazzed up about creating some posts for this here blog. I am all about people sharing their stories with me so I can get some new insights and points-of-view on the blog, because let's face it, I can't be out on dates ALL THE TIME. I mean, I could but I just choose not to. OH yeah! Up top! Nice.
So, Blainebo emails me on a Saturday night and asks if he can contribute a guest entry, and I write back, "of course! send it along and I'll post it up for you!" Below is what he sent me. I literally cut and paste this from my email to your eyes.
"It's called 'Pick-up Spots'
Location; sagamore hotel, miami
Time; 7:28pm
Scene. Wow. Lady gaga would be embarassed here. What do parents do to their kids to make them want to dress like this?"
That's it? That's what you wanted to post? Blainebo! You are going to have to try a bit harder than that! Let me point out what strikes me as unusual.
1. Miami? He knows the title of my blog is "Adventures in New York Dating" right? I mean, I'm all about so-called "Pick-up Spots," but in my neighborhood pick-up spots would be preferable. I'm not going to travel to Miami to find a dude. I'm not that desperate. Maybe sometimes I am. NO NO I'm definitely not! ...maybe.
2. 7:28pm? That's a little early to be trying to pick up a hottie on a Saturday night. That's M-F happy hour pick-up time. I think most of the people you are going to pick up are going to be either of AARP age or "regulars." And by regulars, I mean they are already going to be vomit-wasted by this time and they do this every day.
3. I don't even know how to begin to tackle this last one. The only place Lady Gaga would ever be embarrassed would be at a rodeo. Wait, no. She'd probably be ok with that. Maybe a retirement home? A J. Crew photo shoot? At a WASPy dinner party? I can't think of anything...
"What do parents do to their kids to make them want to dress like this?" Ok, verge of funny right now, but what are they wearing!? And why are their kids at a bar? Am I misinterpreting? Help! Help!
OH man. It was a good attempt, but A LITTLE more effort needs to be involved, amiright?
Blainebo emailed me on Monday, "No recollection of this email chain. Ha ha." So, I'm giving him a break on this one! Too much Miami heat and Lady Gaga wanna-be's.
Miami? Really?
The guru went ahead and sent him the posting for "The Hobble" and he luuuurved it. He lurved it so much that he was all jazzed up about creating some posts for this here blog. I am all about people sharing their stories with me so I can get some new insights and points-of-view on the blog, because let's face it, I can't be out on dates ALL THE TIME. I mean, I could but I just choose not to. OH yeah! Up top! Nice.
So, Blainebo emails me on a Saturday night and asks if he can contribute a guest entry, and I write back, "of course! send it along and I'll post it up for you!" Below is what he sent me. I literally cut and paste this from my email to your eyes.
"It's called 'Pick-up Spots'
Location; sagamore hotel, miami
Time; 7:28pm
Scene. Wow. Lady gaga would be embarassed here. What do parents do to their kids to make them want to dress like this?"
That's it? That's what you wanted to post? Blainebo! You are going to have to try a bit harder than that! Let me point out what strikes me as unusual.
1. Miami? He knows the title of my blog is "Adventures in New York Dating" right? I mean, I'm all about so-called "Pick-up Spots," but in my neighborhood pick-up spots would be preferable. I'm not going to travel to Miami to find a dude. I'm not that desperate. Maybe sometimes I am. NO NO I'm definitely not! ...maybe.
2. 7:28pm? That's a little early to be trying to pick up a hottie on a Saturday night. That's M-F happy hour pick-up time. I think most of the people you are going to pick up are going to be either of AARP age or "regulars." And by regulars, I mean they are already going to be vomit-wasted by this time and they do this every day.
3. I don't even know how to begin to tackle this last one. The only place Lady Gaga would ever be embarrassed would be at a rodeo. Wait, no. She'd probably be ok with that. Maybe a retirement home? A J. Crew photo shoot? At a WASPy dinner party? I can't think of anything...
"What do parents do to their kids to make them want to dress like this?" Ok, verge of funny right now, but what are they wearing!? And why are their kids at a bar? Am I misinterpreting? Help! Help!
OH man. It was a good attempt, but A LITTLE more effort needs to be involved, amiright?
Blainebo emailed me on Monday, "No recollection of this email chain. Ha ha." So, I'm giving him a break on this one! Too much Miami heat and Lady Gaga wanna-be's.
Miami? Really?
Sunday, January 31, 2010
The Hobble: An Epic Tale
Written by A. R. R. Tolkien
The Hobble follows the epic quest of the cane-bearing Blainebo Baggins.
"In a bar in Brooklyn there drank a hobble. Not a nasty, dirty, wet bar, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy bar with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobble-bar, and that means drunk bitches."
It had a perfectly stocked bar like you would imagine in any bar in Brooklyn. The Hobble had a plan for the night. I plan that would go down in history as the best pick-up technique ever seen by Man and Hobble alike.
We begin our story with two Women imbibing at The Sackett-shire bar just a few jaunts away from the Hobble-bar (also known to shire-folk as Union Hall). The two Women met up past the hour of midnight for they both had quests to fulfill prior to their rendez-vous. They laughed and drank ales until the quiet setting was to calm for their liking.
They sauntered up the trail to Union Hall so they might enjoy a livelier crowd for the evening, as this night was turning out to be quite a fun adventure for both of them. These Women are seasoned veterans when talking to Men, so they decided to use their skills for the good of Man- and Womankind.
Union Hall was disappointingly not as bustling as they had hoped, but they made the most of the night and positioned themselves by some attractive hat-bearing Men. To which, the Women quickly decided to leave for there was a dance party in the basement. Classic rock music played as the gyrated on the dance floor getting their "groove thing on" as some folk might say.
The dance party died down from a musical folly by the Disc Jockey, so the Women took their places by the hat-bearing Men.
I must tell you at this time, these Women, nor any folk in the bar for that matter, realized that this was, in fact, a Hobble-bar.
The Women began to converse with the hat-bearing Men and they learned that these Men were born of the country to the North and were at Union Hall on an adventure from their land. One of the Women also hails from the North country, so she was pleased to speak with her fellow countrymen.
The glasses-bearing Woman was particularly fond of the stripe-bearing Man for he had a smile that lit the room and eyes that pierced her hardened soul. He was also interested in this Woman for he had left the other Women with which he was playing a friendly game of bocce ball to join the glasses-bearing Woman for an ale. His friend begged him to join them for the remainder of the game for it was obvious that he was interested in the young Women bearing little clothes on this frigid evening.
The Men left these Women to finish their ales on their own, and this is the part of the story where the Hobble enters. The Women were laughing and enjoying each other's company when out of nowhere the cane-bearing Hobble questioned them.
"Are you making fun of my disability?"
The Women did not even see him walk towards them so they were quite shocked at his question. Their faces blanched, for they were loving Women and cared for all creatures in the Earth - except for cats. The Northern Woman earlier had conjectured that cats were "weird creatures" and she wished them all dead. The glasses-bearing Woman had a cat for a pet, but found no offense to her statement as she knew the Northern Woman had finally admitted what she had known to be her feelings all along.
So, the Women with faces blanched hastily denied that they were laughing at his disability and were worried they had offended the Hobble. The Hobble then laughed and the Women realized something. The Woman from the North spoke first.
"Is that your line?? If that's your line, I will have sex with you tonight."
The Hobble admitted that he was indeed using a line on the Women and they all had a merry laugh about it. What fun! What fun was had for the remainder of the evening. The Hobble told the Women they he had just hurt his knee the day before and did not have a disability, rather an injury. This Hobble certainly knew how to entertain, which is true of most Hobbles. They are a jolly folk indeed.
The Women were then joined by the Hobble's friends who turned out to be Men. The glasses-bearing Woman played wing-man for the Northern Woman as she laughed the evening away with her new Hobble love interest. A good time was had by all. They drank ale and told stories until the wee hours of the morning when the Hobble-bar started closing down the metal gates.
The glasses-bearing Woman glanced towards the bar where she saw the stripe-bearing Man she had spoken with earlier in the evening. They waved at one another and knew, just knew, that they would never see each other again. It was a sad moment for the glasses-bearing Woman as she had thought this Man was quite nice and very attractive. They shared one final goodbye wave and the stripe-bearing Man left into the cold of the night without another word spoken.
The Women left the bar with the Hobble and his jolly friends and they all went their separate ways. Little did they know that the Hobble and the Northern Woman arranged a secret rendez-vous at her living quarters. The Hobble and the Woman were enjoying each other's company when the Woman questioned him.
"Am I hurting your knee? Wait. You're not even injured are you?"
The Hobble admitted, "Nope. I'm not." And he got up and walked to the restroom. When he returned he told her that he found the cane on the street on the way to the bar to meet his friends. His friends were also unaware of his false injury, which made the Woman laugh even harder than she already was for this was the most amazing story she had ever heard. The Woman pleaded to the Hobble that they must be friends even if being romantic didn't work out for them. She found him to be interesting for he was a Master. A Master pick-up artist with skills unseen by her before. She was known as the Guru in some circles, but she realized quickly that the Hobble had surpassed her skills.
The Hobble left her living quarters the next morning and limped into the sunlight knowing that he had accomplished a magnificent feat. He had accomplished what he set out for the evening. The sun shone down on him as he walked off into the distance...
The Hobble follows the epic quest of the cane-bearing Blainebo Baggins.
"In a bar in Brooklyn there drank a hobble. Not a nasty, dirty, wet bar, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy bar with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobble-bar, and that means drunk bitches."
It had a perfectly stocked bar like you would imagine in any bar in Brooklyn. The Hobble had a plan for the night. I plan that would go down in history as the best pick-up technique ever seen by Man and Hobble alike.
We begin our story with two Women imbibing at The Sackett-shire bar just a few jaunts away from the Hobble-bar (also known to shire-folk as Union Hall). The two Women met up past the hour of midnight for they both had quests to fulfill prior to their rendez-vous. They laughed and drank ales until the quiet setting was to calm for their liking.
They sauntered up the trail to Union Hall so they might enjoy a livelier crowd for the evening, as this night was turning out to be quite a fun adventure for both of them. These Women are seasoned veterans when talking to Men, so they decided to use their skills for the good of Man- and Womankind.
Union Hall was disappointingly not as bustling as they had hoped, but they made the most of the night and positioned themselves by some attractive hat-bearing Men. To which, the Women quickly decided to leave for there was a dance party in the basement. Classic rock music played as the gyrated on the dance floor getting their "groove thing on" as some folk might say.
The dance party died down from a musical folly by the Disc Jockey, so the Women took their places by the hat-bearing Men.
I must tell you at this time, these Women, nor any folk in the bar for that matter, realized that this was, in fact, a Hobble-bar.
The Women began to converse with the hat-bearing Men and they learned that these Men were born of the country to the North and were at Union Hall on an adventure from their land. One of the Women also hails from the North country, so she was pleased to speak with her fellow countrymen.
The glasses-bearing Woman was particularly fond of the stripe-bearing Man for he had a smile that lit the room and eyes that pierced her hardened soul. He was also interested in this Woman for he had left the other Women with which he was playing a friendly game of bocce ball to join the glasses-bearing Woman for an ale. His friend begged him to join them for the remainder of the game for it was obvious that he was interested in the young Women bearing little clothes on this frigid evening.
The Men left these Women to finish their ales on their own, and this is the part of the story where the Hobble enters. The Women were laughing and enjoying each other's company when out of nowhere the cane-bearing Hobble questioned them.
"Are you making fun of my disability?"
The Women did not even see him walk towards them so they were quite shocked at his question. Their faces blanched, for they were loving Women and cared for all creatures in the Earth - except for cats. The Northern Woman earlier had conjectured that cats were "weird creatures" and she wished them all dead. The glasses-bearing Woman had a cat for a pet, but found no offense to her statement as she knew the Northern Woman had finally admitted what she had known to be her feelings all along.
So, the Women with faces blanched hastily denied that they were laughing at his disability and were worried they had offended the Hobble. The Hobble then laughed and the Women realized something. The Woman from the North spoke first.
"Is that your line?? If that's your line, I will have sex with you tonight."
The Hobble admitted that he was indeed using a line on the Women and they all had a merry laugh about it. What fun! What fun was had for the remainder of the evening. The Hobble told the Women they he had just hurt his knee the day before and did not have a disability, rather an injury. This Hobble certainly knew how to entertain, which is true of most Hobbles. They are a jolly folk indeed.
The Women were then joined by the Hobble's friends who turned out to be Men. The glasses-bearing Woman played wing-man for the Northern Woman as she laughed the evening away with her new Hobble love interest. A good time was had by all. They drank ale and told stories until the wee hours of the morning when the Hobble-bar started closing down the metal gates.
The glasses-bearing Woman glanced towards the bar where she saw the stripe-bearing Man she had spoken with earlier in the evening. They waved at one another and knew, just knew, that they would never see each other again. It was a sad moment for the glasses-bearing Woman as she had thought this Man was quite nice and very attractive. They shared one final goodbye wave and the stripe-bearing Man left into the cold of the night without another word spoken.
The Women left the bar with the Hobble and his jolly friends and they all went their separate ways. Little did they know that the Hobble and the Northern Woman arranged a secret rendez-vous at her living quarters. The Hobble and the Woman were enjoying each other's company when the Woman questioned him.
"Am I hurting your knee? Wait. You're not even injured are you?"
The Hobble admitted, "Nope. I'm not." And he got up and walked to the restroom. When he returned he told her that he found the cane on the street on the way to the bar to meet his friends. His friends were also unaware of his false injury, which made the Woman laugh even harder than she already was for this was the most amazing story she had ever heard. The Woman pleaded to the Hobble that they must be friends even if being romantic didn't work out for them. She found him to be interesting for he was a Master. A Master pick-up artist with skills unseen by her before. She was known as the Guru in some circles, but she realized quickly that the Hobble had surpassed her skills.
The Hobble left her living quarters the next morning and limped into the sunlight knowing that he had accomplished a magnificent feat. He had accomplished what he set out for the evening. The sun shone down on him as he walked off into the distance...
Sunday, January 3, 2010
2010: Year of Men
I spent New Year’s eve up in Vermont for the second year in a row. I don’t think I’ll do New Year’s any other way. I go up with some friends to my Uncles’ very welcoming, very gay home. So the combination of family and gay meant there would be no hooking up for me, but that made no difference to me, as it is always a great time. We eat way too much food, drink way too much, and watch the Twilight Zone marathon.
I actually learn lots of lessons from the women in the Twilight Zone: always fall while running, know how to “wrestle up” some coffee, react very dramatically with your face when something crazy happens, but not too crazy as to make you look unattractive, be in abusive relationships, be extremely attractive or have been extremely attractive once in your life, BE AWESOME. The list could go on, but I will stop. You can always add some in the comments, if you so choose!
SO, we dubbed 2010 the Year of Men. I usually go up to VT with some of my amazing single lady friends and we decided that this year, we are going to be extremely slutty. NO, we decided that it will be a more confident year for us and we will go forward through the seas of men and come up victorious! FREEDOM!
I decided that in honor of the Year of Men, I was going to make a list of pseudo resolutions – more like a list of goals for myself in this all exciting and testosterone-filled year.
1. Stop being so damn stand-offish. It’s easy for me to dismiss a guy at a bar who is simply trying to make conversation. I have a very small tolerance threshold for bullshit, and an even smaller tolerance threshold for idiots. There are a lot of idiots out there. Though, I do realize that I need to give people more of a chance, so I’ll like… totally work on that.2. This has nothing to do with dating, but I need to stop spending so much money! I have a tendency to just go with the flow and spend way outside my budget. I get really wrapped up in fun and end up staying out late and spending away like money doesn’t matter, as you can tell by some of my posts. So, I guess finding more budget friendly social events should be my goal… Easy enough! <-- I’ll be regretting writing that. I should just make dudes buy more drinks for me. That will help me save some money.
Happy 2010!
I actually learn lots of lessons from the women in the Twilight Zone: always fall while running, know how to “wrestle up” some coffee, react very dramatically with your face when something crazy happens, but not too crazy as to make you look unattractive, be in abusive relationships, be extremely attractive or have been extremely attractive once in your life, BE AWESOME. The list could go on, but I will stop. You can always add some in the comments, if you so choose!
SO, we dubbed 2010 the Year of Men. I usually go up to VT with some of my amazing single lady friends and we decided that this year, we are going to be extremely slutty. NO, we decided that it will be a more confident year for us and we will go forward through the seas of men and come up victorious! FREEDOM!
I decided that in honor of the Year of Men, I was going to make a list of pseudo resolutions – more like a list of goals for myself in this all exciting and testosterone-filled year.
1. Stop being so damn stand-offish. It’s easy for me to dismiss a guy at a bar who is simply trying to make conversation. I have a very small tolerance threshold for bullshit, and an even smaller tolerance threshold for idiots. There are a lot of idiots out there. Though, I do realize that I need to give people more of a chance, so I’ll like… totally work on that.2. This has nothing to do with dating, but I need to stop spending so much money! I have a tendency to just go with the flow and spend way outside my budget. I get really wrapped up in fun and end up staying out late and spending away like money doesn’t matter, as you can tell by some of my posts. So, I guess finding more budget friendly social events should be my goal… Easy enough! <-- I’ll be regretting writing that. I should just make dudes buy more drinks for me. That will help me save some money.
Happy 2010!
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Meat Up: Extra Beef
I am a professional facebook stalker. It's a really bad habit, but I figure that most people do it too... I mean, right!? People check other people's status updates constantly? Trying to think of something witty yet insightful to say? Right? Right!?!? Right.
So, I noticed that one of my friends posted something about a "meat up" on his facebook page and that he would be bartending at said meat up. I did a little investigation and it turned out that this whole fancy pantsy hook-up event was taking place at a bar in my hood. Naturally, I screamed loudly at work with glee and desperation. Happening in my neighborhood! A singles event! The gods are certainly shining on me today. Thank you very much! My coworker happened to walk by as I screamed and she just rolled her eyes. Someone's jealous!
I immediately emailed a few friends to see if they were interested in going with me, and my friend LP wrote me back saying that she would mos def like to be my "date" to the meat market. We hadn't hung out for awhile, so this was going to be a night! A night in which we mostly talked to ourselves, because these events tend to be slightly creepy and uncomfortable. Forced mingling. Ick.
I coach a local Brooklyn swim team on the night that the event was happening so I had to sneak out a little early to get my flirt on. Awwww yeaaaahhhh. Watch out boys! I'm coming and I'm gonna make you feel extremely uncomfortable. Yes!
With my newly applied chlorine perfume on, I made my way to meet up with LP. As we walked into the bar, we noticed that they had a hot dog stand set up at the entrance. Great idea! Why not give potential hook-ups some hot dogs... with onions... and saurkraut... and mustard. That will certainly make everyone MUCH more attractive... with sweet breath... and absolutely no bowel issues what-so-ever. Classy.
They were also giving out name tags when we walked in, and my stomach just dropped. I was thinking how many times I was going to get some dude talking to me while checking out my name tag which also happens to be very very close to my boobs. Fab. To top it off, they were asking what you wanted your porn name to be. Really? Really? LP and I turned down the offer for a name tag, and the guy in line behind us for the coat check wittily said, "Oh, you don't want to talk to anyone tonight?" To which I replied, "This is a couples event, right!?" To which he said, "You two have fun tonight." I really know how the hook the fellas in!
Let me just say, the night was a bit awkward - big surprise! Everyone was there because they were single or supporting a single friend, so it took the cool factor out of just hanging out at a bar, which is usually my m.o. I'm cool! I'm hip! LP and I noticed right away that it was going to be one of those nights, where we will have tons of fun, but we probably won't be meeting the man of our respective dreams! There were actually quite a few fellas at the event, but most of them were already talking to girls. Big surprise yet again!
LP and I had a great time and got a free drink out of it and some laughs shared at the expense of other people. Always a great way to lift the spirits. As we were heading out of the most unsuccessful pick-up night of the century, I saw a few of my dude friends walking in. I decided quickly that I, too, wanted to stay and said goodbye to my dear LP. I'm a horrible friend. I was like, oh guys I know are here... LATER. They were with a girl I didn't know, but we became fast friends. This chick was on the prowl. Much more aggressive than I am, so it was fun.
OF COURSE as soon as I walk in with the guys, they immediately start talking to girls. How does that happen? Sometimes, I think I'm pretty cool, but stuff like that never happens to me. I have to at least have a few beers in me to talk to a guy. I am really judgmental, so if I start talking to a guy before having a drink, I will openly roll my eyes at him and his lame attempts to make jokes and compliment me. Yup. I'm an asshole.
At one point, some guys come to talk to me and my new friend. I know his friend is just talking to me because his friend is talking to my new friend for life and ever and ever... and ever. He's a bit of a douchebag. When I told him I worked for a nonprofit, he asked, ever so delicately and respectfully, "What? You don't like money?" Yeah, that's right. I don't like money. In fact, I hate it. I give all of the money I make to the charity I work for. I don't have a home. The clothes that I'm wearing? Oh, I picked them up at a Salvation Army. Oh, and this beer? I stole it.
Then he said, "Well, I work for-profit, so you probably hate me. I work on Wall Street." Nope, I don't hate you because you work on Wall Street, but I don't really think you are that sharp and are a bit of a tactless d'bag. Then, he asked my most dreaded and hated question. This question makes me want to vomit all over the person asking it. Then it makes me want to go eat a hot dog from the front of the bar and vomit again. "What do you do for fun?" I read Steinbeck and knit clothes for the future children I want to have... with you... do you want kids? Want to see my knittings? I always carry them with me... just in case...
Interview questions within the first minute of talking to someone is never a good sign. I never know how to answer them. I don't want to answer them. I want to have a conversation and find out if I get along with you, not talk about what I do or what colors me pink. Or whatever that expression might be.
I told him I was a comedian, because I didn't know what else to say. He told me to tell him a joke, and I said, "No. I don't tell jokes... I need to go to the bathroom." So hot. GOD, I'm so hot. He wasn't hanging around when I came back, and I felt fine about that.
I stumbled home that night in the freezing cold slightly disappointed, but not too much. I had a great time and I didn't make too much of an ass of myself. All-in-all a good night! Except for the fact that NO pizza places were open on my stumble home. I was so pissed. Even the bodega was closed near my apartment. Ramen it is!
What do you do for fun???
BLARGH.
So, I noticed that one of my friends posted something about a "meat up" on his facebook page and that he would be bartending at said meat up. I did a little investigation and it turned out that this whole fancy pantsy hook-up event was taking place at a bar in my hood. Naturally, I screamed loudly at work with glee and desperation. Happening in my neighborhood! A singles event! The gods are certainly shining on me today. Thank you very much! My coworker happened to walk by as I screamed and she just rolled her eyes. Someone's jealous!
I immediately emailed a few friends to see if they were interested in going with me, and my friend LP wrote me back saying that she would mos def like to be my "date" to the meat market. We hadn't hung out for awhile, so this was going to be a night! A night in which we mostly talked to ourselves, because these events tend to be slightly creepy and uncomfortable. Forced mingling. Ick.
I coach a local Brooklyn swim team on the night that the event was happening so I had to sneak out a little early to get my flirt on. Awwww yeaaaahhhh. Watch out boys! I'm coming and I'm gonna make you feel extremely uncomfortable. Yes!
With my newly applied chlorine perfume on, I made my way to meet up with LP. As we walked into the bar, we noticed that they had a hot dog stand set up at the entrance. Great idea! Why not give potential hook-ups some hot dogs... with onions... and saurkraut... and mustard. That will certainly make everyone MUCH more attractive... with sweet breath... and absolutely no bowel issues what-so-ever. Classy.
They were also giving out name tags when we walked in, and my stomach just dropped. I was thinking how many times I was going to get some dude talking to me while checking out my name tag which also happens to be very very close to my boobs. Fab. To top it off, they were asking what you wanted your porn name to be. Really? Really? LP and I turned down the offer for a name tag, and the guy in line behind us for the coat check wittily said, "Oh, you don't want to talk to anyone tonight?" To which I replied, "This is a couples event, right!?" To which he said, "You two have fun tonight." I really know how the hook the fellas in!
Let me just say, the night was a bit awkward - big surprise! Everyone was there because they were single or supporting a single friend, so it took the cool factor out of just hanging out at a bar, which is usually my m.o. I'm cool! I'm hip! LP and I noticed right away that it was going to be one of those nights, where we will have tons of fun, but we probably won't be meeting the man of our respective dreams! There were actually quite a few fellas at the event, but most of them were already talking to girls. Big surprise yet again!
LP and I had a great time and got a free drink out of it and some laughs shared at the expense of other people. Always a great way to lift the spirits. As we were heading out of the most unsuccessful pick-up night of the century, I saw a few of my dude friends walking in. I decided quickly that I, too, wanted to stay and said goodbye to my dear LP. I'm a horrible friend. I was like, oh guys I know are here... LATER. They were with a girl I didn't know, but we became fast friends. This chick was on the prowl. Much more aggressive than I am, so it was fun.
OF COURSE as soon as I walk in with the guys, they immediately start talking to girls. How does that happen? Sometimes, I think I'm pretty cool, but stuff like that never happens to me. I have to at least have a few beers in me to talk to a guy. I am really judgmental, so if I start talking to a guy before having a drink, I will openly roll my eyes at him and his lame attempts to make jokes and compliment me. Yup. I'm an asshole.
At one point, some guys come to talk to me and my new friend. I know his friend is just talking to me because his friend is talking to my new friend for life and ever and ever... and ever. He's a bit of a douchebag. When I told him I worked for a nonprofit, he asked, ever so delicately and respectfully, "What? You don't like money?" Yeah, that's right. I don't like money. In fact, I hate it. I give all of the money I make to the charity I work for. I don't have a home. The clothes that I'm wearing? Oh, I picked them up at a Salvation Army. Oh, and this beer? I stole it.
Then he said, "Well, I work for-profit, so you probably hate me. I work on Wall Street." Nope, I don't hate you because you work on Wall Street, but I don't really think you are that sharp and are a bit of a tactless d'bag. Then, he asked my most dreaded and hated question. This question makes me want to vomit all over the person asking it. Then it makes me want to go eat a hot dog from the front of the bar and vomit again. "What do you do for fun?" I read Steinbeck and knit clothes for the future children I want to have... with you... do you want kids? Want to see my knittings? I always carry them with me... just in case...
Interview questions within the first minute of talking to someone is never a good sign. I never know how to answer them. I don't want to answer them. I want to have a conversation and find out if I get along with you, not talk about what I do or what colors me pink. Or whatever that expression might be.
I told him I was a comedian, because I didn't know what else to say. He told me to tell him a joke, and I said, "No. I don't tell jokes... I need to go to the bathroom." So hot. GOD, I'm so hot. He wasn't hanging around when I came back, and I felt fine about that.
I stumbled home that night in the freezing cold slightly disappointed, but not too much. I had a great time and I didn't make too much of an ass of myself. All-in-all a good night! Except for the fact that NO pizza places were open on my stumble home. I was so pissed. Even the bodega was closed near my apartment. Ramen it is!
What do you do for fun???
BLARGH.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Allergy Hilarity
Today I had to take a good ole trip to the allergist. You see, I haven't been able to breath out of my nose for the past two weeks - SEXY - so I decided it was time to see an expert of the nose. I can't be hitting on dudes while mouth breathing, it's just, um, not ok. I would have to "come up for air" while making out. So not cute.
The allergist is an adorable little Jewish Brooklyn man. He won my heart over within five minutes of our consultation; I believe it was right after he told me he did some stand-up comedy. What!? A comedian allergist! Hilarious!
So, I had to get some tests done by the PA before meeting again with my little comedic demon of a doctor. He pricked me with about 50 needles on my forearms. Just to add to the hotness of having allergies, I was now marked as one with allergies. The world is doomed! She who is marked as allergic liiiiivvveess!!! AAaaarrrggh!!
I also had to get an asthma test at the same time. We have to cover every 13 year old's fear during this visit. Next I thought they were going to tell me I had to get braces and that Johnny didn't want to go out with me. Sad.
The following conversation happened:
PA: Ok, so we are going to do an asthma test.
Me: Alright.
PA: Stand here and hold this (hands me a tube). Now, you are going to hold this at your waist and when I tell you, put it in your mouth and blow.
Me: Ok.
PA: Put it in your mouth.
Me: (blows)
PA: Ok, we are going to do this again. This time, I want you to put it further in your mouth past your teeth. When I say, put it in your mouth... blow.
Me: (trying not to laugh) Ok.
PA: Put it in your mouth.
Me: (blows)
It took a lot, a lot, for me not to laugh in his face. He was very forceful telling me to put it in my mouth... over and over again. I was like, dude, chill. At least take me on a date first! For reals.
Meanwhile back with the comedian allergist... Apparently he had gotten a few negative comments on City Search and was really self-conscious about the remarks. So self-conscious that he took it upon himself to explain the reason for one of the negative comments. He then asked me to endorse his listing on Yelp. He said that he was trying to develop his profile there. I took it upon myself to throw a little comedy into the mix.
Me: Oh, so you are trying to de-yelp-op it?
Comedy Doc: (blank stare)
Me: De-yel-op it?
Comedy Doc: (blank stare... blinks)
Me: Get it??? De-yelpop ... de-yelp ... (trails off)
Comedy Doc: Uh, huh. Well, here are some nose sprays...
He obviously knows nothing about comedy.
The allergist is an adorable little Jewish Brooklyn man. He won my heart over within five minutes of our consultation; I believe it was right after he told me he did some stand-up comedy. What!? A comedian allergist! Hilarious!
So, I had to get some tests done by the PA before meeting again with my little comedic demon of a doctor. He pricked me with about 50 needles on my forearms. Just to add to the hotness of having allergies, I was now marked as one with allergies. The world is doomed! She who is marked as allergic liiiiivvveess!!! AAaaarrrggh!!
I also had to get an asthma test at the same time. We have to cover every 13 year old's fear during this visit. Next I thought they were going to tell me I had to get braces and that Johnny didn't want to go out with me. Sad.
The following conversation happened:
PA: Ok, so we are going to do an asthma test.
Me: Alright.
PA: Stand here and hold this (hands me a tube). Now, you are going to hold this at your waist and when I tell you, put it in your mouth and blow.
Me: Ok.
PA: Put it in your mouth.
Me: (blows)
PA: Ok, we are going to do this again. This time, I want you to put it further in your mouth past your teeth. When I say, put it in your mouth... blow.
Me: (trying not to laugh) Ok.
PA: Put it in your mouth.
Me: (blows)
It took a lot, a lot, for me not to laugh in his face. He was very forceful telling me to put it in my mouth... over and over again. I was like, dude, chill. At least take me on a date first! For reals.
Meanwhile back with the comedian allergist... Apparently he had gotten a few negative comments on City Search and was really self-conscious about the remarks. So self-conscious that he took it upon himself to explain the reason for one of the negative comments. He then asked me to endorse his listing on Yelp. He said that he was trying to develop his profile there. I took it upon myself to throw a little comedy into the mix.
Me: Oh, so you are trying to de-yelp-op it?
Comedy Doc: (blank stare)
Me: De-yel-op it?
Comedy Doc: (blank stare... blinks)
Me: Get it??? De-yelpop ... de-yelp ... (trails off)
Comedy Doc: Uh, huh. Well, here are some nose sprays...
He obviously knows nothing about comedy.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Twitter Twatter
Today I decided it was time that I get with it and join the latest social networking craze about two years late. I'm SO on top of the times. I just bought a snap bracelet! I hope they are still cool (UPDATE: They are! And I have the wrist bruises to prove it). So, I joined Twitter. So, I left Twitter. All in one day! I've been quite productive. If I do nothing else for the rest of the day, I will feel like I accomplished something! Cocktail time!
My friend, the minx, kept telling me that I needed to join Twitter to get my blog out to the public and to "share the Annie love!" Aww, so sweet! She likes me, she really likes me! The minx, as you can deduce from her code name, is quite one sexy bitch and I just had to listen to her. So, I finally broke down and decided to join this whole status updatey thing that everyone has been telling me about. I mean, what could go wrong! Everything apparently.
I didn't realize that I should probably set up a separate email account and not use my real name, because, you know, I talk about actual people on this blog and that's a big no no in the world of the Internet. I would actually feel bad if someone read something about themselves on here (which actually did happen once, but that is for another entry!).
So, I signed up and at the same time, since I was feeling soooo productive, I set up a fan page on Facebook for the blog and I linked the two. Ah, man. What am I doing? All the while I'm thinking, how I'm really getting shit done today - SO PRODUCTIVE. Meanwhile, this is not a good idea. This is really not a good idea. Twitter prompts you to "follow" people right when you sign up, so of course I select all these wonderful people that I know, but that wasn't the point of me signing up for Twitter. The point was to be anonymous with the blog and let people I don't know read it.
It all just started snowballing. My name was "AwkwardDating," so that I could just write stupid updates about how weird and awkward I am. (Side note: I deleted the Facebook page like 5 min after creating it, but not before invited a ton of people to become a fan. SIGH. I should not be allowed on the Internet.) So, immediately people start following me and sending messages to me. It was complete overload. And a lot of the people sending me messages had never read the blog, but thankfully I didn't actually link to the blog yet. This little fact did not stop me from freaking out for my entire brunch.
I left my apartment a few minutes after changing my social networking life forever only to feel a deep, deep regret. I was meeting up with friends who I haven't seen in a long time, but I could only think about the fact that I now have a Twitter account and people might find out about the blog... people I write about. Gah! What have I done!? The world is doomed! Twitter has outed me as an Internet bitch! GAH!!!!! BOOM EXPLOSION FIREWORKS PEE. All that happened in my head (and pants).
My brain could not stop thinking about the account. "What if they all find my blog?" "Will anyone ever speak to me again?" "Is it really that bad?" "What is vegan bacon?" Then, I left three extremely awkward messages for three of my friends. SUUUUPER awkward. "Hi, um, it's Anne. You are on Twitter. Um, I just set up an account and I'm freaking out. Twitter question. Call me. Ah, yeah. Uuuumm. Ha ha. Yeah, please call. I think I messed up. TWITTER!" But you should know, there were many pauses and dead air during my messages. In one of the messages, I didn't start speaking until 15 seconds after the beep, because I was almost getting hit by a car. Twitter almost killed me. Twitter almost KILLED me. Deal with that one.
Right when I walked through my door, I turned on my computer and deleted my account. All in all, I wasn't a big deal, but I still freaked out. And now, all the world is at peace and I can stop crying. Wait, no I can't. I just can't! I don't have it in me! Tears of joy and allergies!
Moral of the story: I should never attempt to pretend to be productive before 10am on a Sunday before drinking coffee. AND I realized that the Internet scares me. Someone hold me!
My friend, the minx, kept telling me that I needed to join Twitter to get my blog out to the public and to "share the Annie love!" Aww, so sweet! She likes me, she really likes me! The minx, as you can deduce from her code name, is quite one sexy bitch and I just had to listen to her. So, I finally broke down and decided to join this whole status updatey thing that everyone has been telling me about. I mean, what could go wrong! Everything apparently.
I didn't realize that I should probably set up a separate email account and not use my real name, because, you know, I talk about actual people on this blog and that's a big no no in the world of the Internet. I would actually feel bad if someone read something about themselves on here (which actually did happen once, but that is for another entry!).
So, I signed up and at the same time, since I was feeling soooo productive, I set up a fan page on Facebook for the blog and I linked the two. Ah, man. What am I doing? All the while I'm thinking, how I'm really getting shit done today - SO PRODUCTIVE. Meanwhile, this is not a good idea. This is really not a good idea. Twitter prompts you to "follow" people right when you sign up, so of course I select all these wonderful people that I know, but that wasn't the point of me signing up for Twitter. The point was to be anonymous with the blog and let people I don't know read it.
It all just started snowballing. My name was "AwkwardDating," so that I could just write stupid updates about how weird and awkward I am. (Side note: I deleted the Facebook page like 5 min after creating it, but not before invited a ton of people to become a fan. SIGH. I should not be allowed on the Internet.) So, immediately people start following me and sending messages to me. It was complete overload. And a lot of the people sending me messages had never read the blog, but thankfully I didn't actually link to the blog yet. This little fact did not stop me from freaking out for my entire brunch.
I left my apartment a few minutes after changing my social networking life forever only to feel a deep, deep regret. I was meeting up with friends who I haven't seen in a long time, but I could only think about the fact that I now have a Twitter account and people might find out about the blog... people I write about. Gah! What have I done!? The world is doomed! Twitter has outed me as an Internet bitch! GAH!!!!! BOOM EXPLOSION FIREWORKS PEE. All that happened in my head (and pants).
My brain could not stop thinking about the account. "What if they all find my blog?" "Will anyone ever speak to me again?" "Is it really that bad?" "What is vegan bacon?" Then, I left three extremely awkward messages for three of my friends. SUUUUPER awkward. "Hi, um, it's Anne. You are on Twitter. Um, I just set up an account and I'm freaking out. Twitter question. Call me. Ah, yeah. Uuuumm. Ha ha. Yeah, please call. I think I messed up. TWITTER!" But you should know, there were many pauses and dead air during my messages. In one of the messages, I didn't start speaking until 15 seconds after the beep, because I was almost getting hit by a car. Twitter almost killed me. Twitter almost KILLED me. Deal with that one.
Right when I walked through my door, I turned on my computer and deleted my account. All in all, I wasn't a big deal, but I still freaked out. And now, all the world is at peace and I can stop crying. Wait, no I can't. I just can't! I don't have it in me! Tears of joy and allergies!
Moral of the story: I should never attempt to pretend to be productive before 10am on a Sunday before drinking coffee. AND I realized that the Internet scares me. Someone hold me!
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Voulez-vous do me?
Foreign guys love me. I don't know what it is. It may be the language barrier. Hmmmm, it's most likely the language barrier. I am really good at looking cute while not understanding what someone is telling me.
There is this one guy who is a regular at the French restaurant that me and the guru frequent. I think he is gorgeous, but the guru is on the fence. He's got that preppy, French businessman look to him, which I find to be super hot. And it's strange because I normally go for guys who wear jeans and crappy tee-shirts. You know, the "I probably don't have a job" look. Sessy.
So, Frenchy French is putting on the heavy flirt with me one night. Telling me how cute my jeans make me look, which obviously means that he's been checking out my ass. My ass is stellar. Out of this world. Interplanetary. Cosmic! PLANETS! SOLAR SYSTEM!!! Anne's ass.
Frenchy French got my number that night, and at 4am I got a call from him. Score! 4am booty call! It's been awhile since that's happened, so I was actually really excited and quite flattered. I was in bed asleep. I pooped out at midnight that night. Like I've said many times before, I'm awesome and not geriatric.
I haven't seen or heard from Frenchy French since then. I had an inkling to call him the next day, but I fought against it. Instead, I picked up my remote control and vat of ice cream and had a date with myself and "CSI". Heaven!
UPDATE!
My friend emailed me and asked if I fell asleep after the 4am booty call, to which I replied, "I totally woke up, looked at my phone, smiled to myself, then promptly went right back to sleep. I'm such a dork!" It's official, I'm a dork.
There is this one guy who is a regular at the French restaurant that me and the guru frequent. I think he is gorgeous, but the guru is on the fence. He's got that preppy, French businessman look to him, which I find to be super hot. And it's strange because I normally go for guys who wear jeans and crappy tee-shirts. You know, the "I probably don't have a job" look. Sessy.
So, Frenchy French is putting on the heavy flirt with me one night. Telling me how cute my jeans make me look, which obviously means that he's been checking out my ass. My ass is stellar. Out of this world. Interplanetary. Cosmic! PLANETS! SOLAR SYSTEM!!! Anne's ass.
Frenchy French got my number that night, and at 4am I got a call from him. Score! 4am booty call! It's been awhile since that's happened, so I was actually really excited and quite flattered. I was in bed asleep. I pooped out at midnight that night. Like I've said many times before, I'm awesome and not geriatric.
I haven't seen or heard from Frenchy French since then. I had an inkling to call him the next day, but I fought against it. Instead, I picked up my remote control and vat of ice cream and had a date with myself and "CSI". Heaven!
UPDATE!
My friend emailed me and asked if I fell asleep after the 4am booty call, to which I replied, "I totally woke up, looked at my phone, smiled to myself, then promptly went right back to sleep. I'm such a dork!" It's official, I'm a dork.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
I Got You on my Sprain
Sometimes, I really amaze myself. I do awesome things all the time. Awesome things that result in me having a sprained ankle. Last Sunday, I was out in the hood with the guru and our good friend. After a lovely dinner at al di la (seriously, it's amazing - I missed dinner, but caught dessert and wine with them), we decided to take the party out in the slope. Woo! Sunday night! My drinking on school nights is getting a little out of hand, but I can never say no to these two. They are simply adorable, and I'm easily persuaded to do almost anything. Within reason, of course!
After a few bars, we decided to go for one more, our nightcap, because, you know, it was only 2am. Fuck, work is going to suck in the a.m. En route, I thought that it would be so fucking cool if I did some freestyle walking. Google that on the internet if you don't know what it is. It's ridiculous. So, after a sweet jump, I fell and twisted my ankle. Me = idiot. It looked RAD though, or so I was told. I have to keep telling myself that, just so I can justify doing something really stupid with the fact that it looked cool. I just need validation! I just need someone to love me! Why won't you love me!? Tear.
Anyway, the ankle wasn't feeling much better after a couple of days, so I decided that it was time to go see a doctor. My boss gave me the name of her ankle specialist. That's right, a specialist. I told her that I twisted my ankle stepping the wrong way off of a curb, leaving out the fact that I had been drinking and was doing a dumb ass stunt. She told me she did the exact same thing. I imagined her freestyle walking and it made me laugh. When she asked what I was laughing about, I just stared at her, then turned the other way. Awkward.
So, I made my way to the doctor's office, and it's official, waiting rooms are strange. Sick people are normal for a waiting room, so is being a fucking weirdo. This waiting room in particular was filled with weirdos. People not knowing how to fill out their form. People coughing. People all in my space. Listen, lady, my bag is sitting there. OK? You can take any of the 10 other seats open. MmmmKthanks.
The nurse calls me into the patient room off of the waiting room. I never understand this part of being in a doctor's office. I usually have to wait 10 more minutes in that little room, but in this case the doctor comes in right away which is a nice little treat. It's also a nice little treat that he's HOT. H-O-T-T hot. He actually looks surprised at my appearance. I'm normal looking. I deduced that he was surprised that I wasn't a weirdo, like all of the weirdos in the waiting room. Already off to a good start! I asked him to marry me right then and there. The end.
OH snap! Fooled you! I totes didn't do that, but it would have been pretty ballsy (and awweesome).
So, he takes a look at my ankle, and asks me if I've been wrapping it. I told him that I was using my high top Chucks to brace my ankle. I'm inventive and creative with healing techniques! I will surely impress him with my medical knowledge! As I'm showing him my ankle, like, angling it so he can see the bruising, he says, "Oh, can you just turn a little bit?" So I angle more, propping myself completely onto my side while sitting in a chair. I was thinking, "This is such an awkward position, why does he want me to turn like this?" He says, "No, could you just sit normally?" Nice. Real, nice, Anne. "Oh, ha. Of course. So stupid of me!" He is really charming though and jokes around with me a bit about my ankle, so I'm not being too awkward. ...Yet.
He then took me to get an X-ray and as he is putting that heavy X-ray blanket thing on me, he says, "So, I have to ask this... Are you pregnant?" My response: "NO. Ha ha. NO. Definitely not pregnant. Definitely not." Uh oh. Jesus, stop talking! Stop yourself from saying anything more! I can feel myself wanting to joke around and say something really stupid. It's building up and I know I'm going to make an ass out of myself in front of this handsome and charming doctor. He says, "Well, you know, I never ask the guys that! Ha ha." Me: "Yeah, I guess not. I was going say um ha ha did you uh say think I was ff fff fat. Ha ha."
Mmmm. There it is. There you go. The awkward has been revealed like I knew it would. He laughed a small uncomfortable laugh as he silently judged me, then said, "OK, so look to your left and you will see the X-ray."
Yup. I'm back, people!
After a few bars, we decided to go for one more, our nightcap, because, you know, it was only 2am. Fuck, work is going to suck in the a.m. En route, I thought that it would be so fucking cool if I did some freestyle walking. Google that on the internet if you don't know what it is. It's ridiculous. So, after a sweet jump, I fell and twisted my ankle. Me = idiot. It looked RAD though, or so I was told. I have to keep telling myself that, just so I can justify doing something really stupid with the fact that it looked cool. I just need validation! I just need someone to love me! Why won't you love me!? Tear.
Anyway, the ankle wasn't feeling much better after a couple of days, so I decided that it was time to go see a doctor. My boss gave me the name of her ankle specialist. That's right, a specialist. I told her that I twisted my ankle stepping the wrong way off of a curb, leaving out the fact that I had been drinking and was doing a dumb ass stunt. She told me she did the exact same thing. I imagined her freestyle walking and it made me laugh. When she asked what I was laughing about, I just stared at her, then turned the other way. Awkward.
So, I made my way to the doctor's office, and it's official, waiting rooms are strange. Sick people are normal for a waiting room, so is being a fucking weirdo. This waiting room in particular was filled with weirdos. People not knowing how to fill out their form. People coughing. People all in my space. Listen, lady, my bag is sitting there. OK? You can take any of the 10 other seats open. MmmmKthanks.
The nurse calls me into the patient room off of the waiting room. I never understand this part of being in a doctor's office. I usually have to wait 10 more minutes in that little room, but in this case the doctor comes in right away which is a nice little treat. It's also a nice little treat that he's HOT. H-O-T-T hot. He actually looks surprised at my appearance. I'm normal looking. I deduced that he was surprised that I wasn't a weirdo, like all of the weirdos in the waiting room. Already off to a good start! I asked him to marry me right then and there. The end.
OH snap! Fooled you! I totes didn't do that, but it would have been pretty ballsy (and awweesome).
So, he takes a look at my ankle, and asks me if I've been wrapping it. I told him that I was using my high top Chucks to brace my ankle. I'm inventive and creative with healing techniques! I will surely impress him with my medical knowledge! As I'm showing him my ankle, like, angling it so he can see the bruising, he says, "Oh, can you just turn a little bit?" So I angle more, propping myself completely onto my side while sitting in a chair. I was thinking, "This is such an awkward position, why does he want me to turn like this?" He says, "No, could you just sit normally?" Nice. Real, nice, Anne. "Oh, ha. Of course. So stupid of me!" He is really charming though and jokes around with me a bit about my ankle, so I'm not being too awkward. ...Yet.
He then took me to get an X-ray and as he is putting that heavy X-ray blanket thing on me, he says, "So, I have to ask this... Are you pregnant?" My response: "NO. Ha ha. NO. Definitely not pregnant. Definitely not." Uh oh. Jesus, stop talking! Stop yourself from saying anything more! I can feel myself wanting to joke around and say something really stupid. It's building up and I know I'm going to make an ass out of myself in front of this handsome and charming doctor. He says, "Well, you know, I never ask the guys that! Ha ha." Me: "Yeah, I guess not. I was going say um ha ha did you uh say think I was ff fff fat. Ha ha."
Mmmm. There it is. There you go. The awkward has been revealed like I knew it would. He laughed a small uncomfortable laugh as he silently judged me, then said, "OK, so look to your left and you will see the X-ray."
Yup. I'm back, people!
Friday, October 2, 2009
Is That a Mirror in Your Pants
Yesterday, my friend IM'ed me with this: "I can't believe I slept with two guys at once." This was the first thing she said. There was no, "Hey, so crazy story!" or, "Hey there! Listen to this one." She just laid it all out there.
This is what went through my head when she told me the "news:"
"Oh WHAT! Um, uh. Ok. Wow. How does that even work? I would be so confused. Uh, I'm not quite sure how to respond to this. So, does one guy just stand there an wait until the other one is finished? Are there multiple 'goings-on'? I don't want to think about this! Jeez. But, seriously, how does that work!?"
This is how I responded:
"WHAT! Way to get my attention!"
Then I went on to think:
"What would I do if this option was suddenly available to me? Would I do it? How would they ask me? 'Hey, so we want to do you at the same time.' That's probably not how they would ask. It would probably be something like, 'We want to stick it in you at the same time.' No, that's probably not right either, and that's pretty much what I thought initially. I think I would have to turn them down, because of sheer confusion."
Seriously how DOES that work!?
This is what went through my head when she told me the "news:"
"Oh WHAT! Um, uh. Ok. Wow. How does that even work? I would be so confused. Uh, I'm not quite sure how to respond to this. So, does one guy just stand there an wait until the other one is finished? Are there multiple 'goings-on'? I don't want to think about this! Jeez. But, seriously, how does that work!?"
This is how I responded:
"WHAT! Way to get my attention!"
Then I went on to think:
"What would I do if this option was suddenly available to me? Would I do it? How would they ask me? 'Hey, so we want to do you at the same time.' That's probably not how they would ask. It would probably be something like, 'We want to stick it in you at the same time.' No, that's probably not right either, and that's pretty much what I thought initially. I think I would have to turn them down, because of sheer confusion."
Seriously how DOES that work!?
Friday, September 25, 2009
Falling Over in Failure
A few nights ago, the guru and I went out for a classy dinner in Park Slope. Some people may think we are dating when we dine together, because of all the laughing and making out, but, aahhh, we are not an item and we don't really make out... in public. After an amazing dinner, we thought we should go out for one more drink. We were on a mission. "It's Wednesday night. Let's pick up some dudes!" Our motto for the evening.
We made our way to our favorite watering hole, but unfortunately our favorite bartender wasn't working, so we were absent friendly banter and free Stella. Ah, well, let's find the dudes!
We staked our claim of awesome seats in plain view of a group of guys who we referred to as "The Apatow Crew," because one guy looked like Jonah Hill, except skinnier. The entire group was named for one kid who barely resembled Jonah Hill. We are awesome. So, we had these awesome seats, but after getting up for a smoke, we saw some nice seats open on the couches. The guru opted for these seats. Very comfortable. I get tired thinking about hitting on guys. Just thinking about it! Imagine if it actually happened.
I was wondering why she wanted to sit on the couches, because we weren't really in view of the guys we wanted to hit on. She told me that she didn't want to be obvious, but I'm like fuck it. Who cares? It's a Wednesday night and we are at a bar. So, we picked some new seats in better view of the guys. She then revealed to me that she can only hit on guys when there is a big crowd of people, and this bar was none too crowded. I'm the opposite. I feel like I have a better chance when there aren't as many people around. Less chance of the busty blonde coming and messing everything up! I mean really. Can you just give me a break, busty blonde!?
That was when I devised my master plan. The boys were playing bocce ball, which was en route to the bathroom... My plan was to go to the bathroom, then on the way back "fall" into one of the guys. It was genius! Brilliant! The most amazing plan ever! Except, when I got back up from the bathroom, the guys were in a different location and it just threw me off completely.
So, I sat down and continued to drink, and we never talked to The Apatow Crew or any guys for that matter.
The End.
We made our way to our favorite watering hole, but unfortunately our favorite bartender wasn't working, so we were absent friendly banter and free Stella. Ah, well, let's find the dudes!
We staked our claim of awesome seats in plain view of a group of guys who we referred to as "The Apatow Crew," because one guy looked like Jonah Hill, except skinnier. The entire group was named for one kid who barely resembled Jonah Hill. We are awesome. So, we had these awesome seats, but after getting up for a smoke, we saw some nice seats open on the couches. The guru opted for these seats. Very comfortable. I get tired thinking about hitting on guys. Just thinking about it! Imagine if it actually happened.
I was wondering why she wanted to sit on the couches, because we weren't really in view of the guys we wanted to hit on. She told me that she didn't want to be obvious, but I'm like fuck it. Who cares? It's a Wednesday night and we are at a bar. So, we picked some new seats in better view of the guys. She then revealed to me that she can only hit on guys when there is a big crowd of people, and this bar was none too crowded. I'm the opposite. I feel like I have a better chance when there aren't as many people around. Less chance of the busty blonde coming and messing everything up! I mean really. Can you just give me a break, busty blonde!?
That was when I devised my master plan. The boys were playing bocce ball, which was en route to the bathroom... My plan was to go to the bathroom, then on the way back "fall" into one of the guys. It was genius! Brilliant! The most amazing plan ever! Except, when I got back up from the bathroom, the guys were in a different location and it just threw me off completely.
So, I sat down and continued to drink, and we never talked to The Apatow Crew or any guys for that matter.
The End.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Pee Your Pants to my Heart
Yesterday on the subway, I sat next to a man who had most definitely peed himself. He may have been asleep, but I think he was hitting on me! Those pheromones! Swoon.
Also, today on the subway, a woman was reading the book, Booty Call. I wonder what that's about! Sounds sassy.
Also, today on the subway, a woman was reading the book, Booty Call. I wonder what that's about! Sounds sassy.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Wedding to Get in Your Pants
Friends of the blogosphere! I come here to lay my latest knowledge on you! It's a rainy rainy day in NYC right now. I'm all snuggled up in a large hooded sweatshirt looking like quite the criminal. Criminally adorable! As you all know, I'm super lazy and never get around to posting on this site, but I have a good story to tell, so here goes it!
Weddings are great. They are usually a lot of fun and who doesn't like seeing their friends having the times of their lives uniting as a couple! Well, probably a lot of bitter (read: ugly) people, who think they will never find love or a decent relationship. Well, that ain't so, lady eating from the 16 oz ice cream carton (read: me). As the saying goes, there is someone out there for everyone! That particular someone for me is my cat. Sigh.
My friends got married a couple of weeks ago. They are really good friends from college and I was over the top excited for this wedding. Though, I was a little hesitant, because a) I'm single and b) my ex-boyfriend was going to be there with his current girlfriend. There isn't any bad blood between me and my ex, but those situations always tend to be a little awkward no matter how cool you play it (read: I'm extremely awkward). I had to make sure I had the perfect dress, but nothing that would make it seem that I was trying too hard. After shopping in 20 stores in 4 different states, I finally found the dress! My sister sighed a sigh of relief and told me she wasn't going to talk to me for at least 2 weeks. I can be really demanding when I want something!
The wedding was just amazing. The bride glowing, the groom grinning - it was a sight to be seen. Right when I get there, I see the ex. It's good to see him, actually! And I like his girlfriend, which is weird and awesome at the same time. I sit with one of my friends and he says to me, "Oh god, I'm so glad you are here!" which is always nice to hear. I have to keep my people happy, yo! In the row in front of us sat five dudes. I thought to myself, "things might be looking up! There might be some cute single dudes here. NICE!" Then I immediately thought, "Keep it cool, keep it cool. Don't be awkward. Oh god, I'm going to be really awkward. Fuck." I notice one guy in particular checking me out. Score!
Flash forward to the wedding dinner. They sat me at the same table as my ex. Awesome. In all honesty though, it was nice to talk to him and just have fun. I also sat next to this really fun chick that I went to college with, so it was all good. Oh, what's that!? That guy is looking at me from his table. Not so sneaky! I seeee you! I didn't end up talking to this guy until the LAST SONG. He would occasionally glance my way, but that was it! I was thinking, "Ok, maybe is just wondering who I am and what I'm doing here. NO! NO! I look fucking CUTE. He's definitely checking me out."
So, he finally asks me to dance. Mind you, this is the last song and the only other people dancing are the people in the wedding party. I feel immediately awkward, of course, but he turns out to be a really cool guy. He is friends with everyone from Philly. We ended up hanging out at the after party at the bar, then the after after party in my hotel room. HEY-O! Hold your horses, there were other people there too and we were trying to decide what pizza place to order from. Flash forward an hour when we discover that all the pizza places are closed.
During this time, I find out that the guy doesn't have a room to stay in for the night; he was just planning to crash with someone. Who comes to a wedding without a place to stay? Really? So, No Room, here and I are definitely hitting it off, despite the fact that he came to a wedding without a place to stay. By the time everyone is leaving, I say, "Well, you can just crash here. On the floor. If you want." So awkward. But it worked. He ended up staying in my room (I swear I'm not a hussy!), and we ended up just making out for awhile then passing out. Seriously, just making out. I'm a lady.
Morning rolls around, we make out a little more. And then, I realize it's bordering on 10am and there was supposed to be a brunch that I really want to go to. How do I get him to leave my room? I was practically twiddling my thumbs as we were making out, because I was just waiting for him to smoothly make an exit. I wanted to get up and shower and eat. I'm so finicky sometimes! But he just stayed right there in my bed. Trying to seduce me. Rough life I lead. Finally, I was like, OK I'm kicking you out. I need to get up. It's now around 10:30ish.
I see him down at the brunch, play it cool (read: try to completely ignore him because I feel slightly awkward). I actually don't do so bad. We talk a little then say our goodbyes. All-in-all I had fun hanging out with him, but it was a bit of an insane situation. He didn't have a room? What?
Flash forward, two weeks later, I got a facebook message from him (yes, he friended me) that was prefaced with, "you may find this to be a little weird." Um, ok? Good start, buddy. You got me on the edge of my seat just wanting to know how weird I am going to feel. He ended up asking me if I wanted to go to a wedding with him over Labor Day weekend. Exsqueeze me? Forward much? How about, how are you? Wanna go out on a date sometime? Maybe I should have called you to ask you this question, since it's kind of a big deal? Maybe we should get to know each other a little better, before we are forced to stay in a hotel room together for a weekend with all of our mutual friends? AWWwwwkkkwaaard. I had to let him down easy, mostly because I have plans for the holiday weekend, but I still wouldn't have gone. That's just not my style! I'm a lady!
SIIIIiiighh. Good times all around, but there were definitely some interesting moments. Turns out, I'm not the most awkward person in the world! Isn't that a mindfuck?
Weddings are great. They are usually a lot of fun and who doesn't like seeing their friends having the times of their lives uniting as a couple! Well, probably a lot of bitter (read: ugly) people, who think they will never find love or a decent relationship. Well, that ain't so, lady eating from the 16 oz ice cream carton (read: me). As the saying goes, there is someone out there for everyone! That particular someone for me is my cat. Sigh.
My friends got married a couple of weeks ago. They are really good friends from college and I was over the top excited for this wedding. Though, I was a little hesitant, because a) I'm single and b) my ex-boyfriend was going to be there with his current girlfriend. There isn't any bad blood between me and my ex, but those situations always tend to be a little awkward no matter how cool you play it (read: I'm extremely awkward). I had to make sure I had the perfect dress, but nothing that would make it seem that I was trying too hard. After shopping in 20 stores in 4 different states, I finally found the dress! My sister sighed a sigh of relief and told me she wasn't going to talk to me for at least 2 weeks. I can be really demanding when I want something!
The wedding was just amazing. The bride glowing, the groom grinning - it was a sight to be seen. Right when I get there, I see the ex. It's good to see him, actually! And I like his girlfriend, which is weird and awesome at the same time. I sit with one of my friends and he says to me, "Oh god, I'm so glad you are here!" which is always nice to hear. I have to keep my people happy, yo! In the row in front of us sat five dudes. I thought to myself, "things might be looking up! There might be some cute single dudes here. NICE!" Then I immediately thought, "Keep it cool, keep it cool. Don't be awkward. Oh god, I'm going to be really awkward. Fuck." I notice one guy in particular checking me out. Score!
Flash forward to the wedding dinner. They sat me at the same table as my ex. Awesome. In all honesty though, it was nice to talk to him and just have fun. I also sat next to this really fun chick that I went to college with, so it was all good. Oh, what's that!? That guy is looking at me from his table. Not so sneaky! I seeee you! I didn't end up talking to this guy until the LAST SONG. He would occasionally glance my way, but that was it! I was thinking, "Ok, maybe is just wondering who I am and what I'm doing here. NO! NO! I look fucking CUTE. He's definitely checking me out."
So, he finally asks me to dance. Mind you, this is the last song and the only other people dancing are the people in the wedding party. I feel immediately awkward, of course, but he turns out to be a really cool guy. He is friends with everyone from Philly. We ended up hanging out at the after party at the bar, then the after after party in my hotel room. HEY-O! Hold your horses, there were other people there too and we were trying to decide what pizza place to order from. Flash forward an hour when we discover that all the pizza places are closed.
During this time, I find out that the guy doesn't have a room to stay in for the night; he was just planning to crash with someone. Who comes to a wedding without a place to stay? Really? So, No Room, here and I are definitely hitting it off, despite the fact that he came to a wedding without a place to stay. By the time everyone is leaving, I say, "Well, you can just crash here. On the floor. If you want." So awkward. But it worked. He ended up staying in my room (I swear I'm not a hussy!), and we ended up just making out for awhile then passing out. Seriously, just making out. I'm a lady.
Morning rolls around, we make out a little more. And then, I realize it's bordering on 10am and there was supposed to be a brunch that I really want to go to. How do I get him to leave my room? I was practically twiddling my thumbs as we were making out, because I was just waiting for him to smoothly make an exit. I wanted to get up and shower and eat. I'm so finicky sometimes! But he just stayed right there in my bed. Trying to seduce me. Rough life I lead. Finally, I was like, OK I'm kicking you out. I need to get up. It's now around 10:30ish.
I see him down at the brunch, play it cool (read: try to completely ignore him because I feel slightly awkward). I actually don't do so bad. We talk a little then say our goodbyes. All-in-all I had fun hanging out with him, but it was a bit of an insane situation. He didn't have a room? What?
Flash forward, two weeks later, I got a facebook message from him (yes, he friended me) that was prefaced with, "you may find this to be a little weird." Um, ok? Good start, buddy. You got me on the edge of my seat just wanting to know how weird I am going to feel. He ended up asking me if I wanted to go to a wedding with him over Labor Day weekend. Exsqueeze me? Forward much? How about, how are you? Wanna go out on a date sometime? Maybe I should have called you to ask you this question, since it's kind of a big deal? Maybe we should get to know each other a little better, before we are forced to stay in a hotel room together for a weekend with all of our mutual friends? AWWwwwkkkwaaard. I had to let him down easy, mostly because I have plans for the holiday weekend, but I still wouldn't have gone. That's just not my style! I'm a lady!
SIIIIiiighh. Good times all around, but there were definitely some interesting moments. Turns out, I'm not the most awkward person in the world! Isn't that a mindfuck?
Sunday, December 14, 2008
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.
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.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
