Sunday, October 18, 2009
Phew, now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s move onto the topic at hand. Something that has been on my mind for the last few days: Rejection. The most feared and hated word in the realm of dating. Let’s face it, we’ve all been on the giving and receiving end of rejection….the verdict: it sucks. In this entry I would like to discuss rejection as it relates to the initial ask out or first date. I will do so through an experience which took place exactly one week ago.
Despite the fact that I had already given my two weeks, had slim to no company pride and ceased to be an employee on Friday when the race was on Sunday, I still signed up to be on my company’s running team for the annual Susan G. Komen “Race for the Cure” 5k. I can almost justify it because it was for a good cause… I mean, I’m apathetic, not made of stone. Anyway, after wading through the sea of pink I finally found my team. They apparently all knew each other from work and I was the odd man out. I almost immediately regretted my decision and thought how ironic it was that I was seriously contemplating running away. But I had already made the effort to meet up with them, so I held it together and put on my best “Hey there” smile. The vast majority of the people on the team seemed just as uninterested in knowing me as I was in knowing them. Except for one very funny and extremely attractive man named Peter, who shared my eagerness to make fun of our matching company hats. He was tall, about 6’1” slender body, with crystal blue eyes – totally adorable. We chatted our way to the starting line. We talked about running, where we went to college, my dorky yet functional fanny pack, my new job and the fact that Cyndi Lauper (fuck yeah) had just sang our national anthem. I felt like I was getting ‘the vibe” from him but alas, the race started and we were swallowed by the crowd of people behind us.
I couldn’t help but think my dear friend Peter had been a missed opportunity. I got over the fact that it made me feel like an internet creeper and found his email on our team list. Hell, I’m a modern woman not held down by societal restraints and so I have no problem “throwing it out there” and asking someone out. I mean, you’ll never get want you want unless you ask, right? I sent him a hilarious/witty email and straight up asked him if he wanted to get a drink sometime. After a solid 2 days he responded back with an equally funny email, asking me about my new job and where it was located. He never responded to my drink question but I thought maybe by asking where my job was he was doing “the set up”. One day went by, then two, then three….. Nothing. I had been blown off. It got me thinking. Why wouldn’t he just politely decline? Why even send me an email back?
I have come to the realization that I am an anomaly when dealing with rejection. At this point in my life, I neither fear or care about rejection…I mean, within reason. Let me clarify. I know what I want: to be in a relationship. I know what I don’t want : a new friend (I already have plenty of friends, thank you) When you are initially asking someone out, its because you think they’re interesting, attractive and/or someone you could see yourself spending time with. You aren’t really invested in that person yet because you know there are plenty of other potential suitors that fit the qualities listed above. Therefore, I in no way, feel hurt or slighted if someone declines my invitation. I chalk it up to that’s the way dating is and move onto someone else who would like to spend their time with me. The only thing that really “grinds my gears” is when that person does not let you know that they are not interested. People either over estimate what they’re rejection with do or they don’t want to look like the bad guy. By responding – Peter probably thought that he was being nice… perhaps he genuinely cared how my new job was going. As a result for the next 3 days I thought that I would be seeing him again. The moral of the story – if you’re not interested… say so. I will gladly move on to the next. The saying “There are plenty of other fish in the sea,” got it right. So, don’t be a blowhole.
Recipe: PECAN TILAPIA FOR TWO
• Handful of roasted pecan halves or pieces
• 1 tablespoon butter, melted
• 2 tilapia fillets, skinned and boned
• Juice from 1 Persian lime
• Salt to sprinkle
• Touch of white pepper
• 1/4 cup plain fine bread crumbs
• 1 small shallot, minced
• 3 tablespoons butter
• 1/4 teaspoon Madras curry powder
• 1/4 teaspoon ground coriander seed
• 1 seedless Florida navel orange, membranes removed and sectioned
• Optional: chopped curly parsley or cilantro leaves
1. In a small pan, warm the pecans in the butter until coated. Keep warm in the pan.
2. Saturate the tilapia fillets in the lime juice and sprinkle salt over.
3. Add a touch of white pepper to the bread crumbs and coat the fillets. Set aside.
4. In a shallow, non-stick skillet, cook the shallot in the butter over low heat until soft. Stir in the curry powder and coriander. Add the fillets, turning the heat to medium. Cook less than 1 minute, or until browned on one side. Turn fillets over and cook until browned on the other.
5. Remove fillets to two plates. Cover with the nuts and set orange segments across the top or around the plate with chopped parsley or cilantro leaves for color.
Note: Crushed pecans may be substituted for the bread crumbs to coat the fillets.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Thursday, September 3, 2009
B#1 and I were matched in the beginning of July and went through the communication stages very quickly. I liked his profile but didn't love his pictures, but had previously decided to keep an open mind. He was funny, the emails were long. He offered up his personal email address, I offered up mine. A few days later he gave me his phone number, I asked if he wanted to meet. He did; enthusiastically.
We decided to meet for dinner on a Monday. I told him I worked in Midtown East, he chose two restaurants in my neighborhood. So, he was funny AND considerate! Bonus. He made reservations for 6:15 and asked if I wanted to meet for drinks before dinner? That seemed okay with me; I thought it was a good sign that he thought we had enough to talk about to do drinks AND dinner.
The day of the first date arrived. I stood there waiting for him, and around the corner he comes. I'll admit it, I was slightly disappointed in what was grinning back at me. But! I'm a big supporter in letting chemistry and attraction build and I liked what he put on the table thus far, the date had begun, so I settled in for the evening. When we moved from drinks to dinner, it started to rain and I of course did not have an umbrella. He pulls his out and covers me with it....funny, considerate AND a gentlemen!
We eat dinner, conversation is fine but I'm looking at him thinking: do I want to kiss this guy at the end of the evening? Hmm....err, I....dont....think I do. Dinner ends and he asks what I'm doing, he's having a good time, do I want to get a drink? At this point I could have taken or left the drink, but because I have a difficult time saying no, I say yes. We head over to a pub I frequent after work.
We get some beers, continue our conversation. Drink our beers, I say it's time to head out. As we walk to Grand Central he tries to set up plans to see me again this week before I leave for vacation but I felt like two dates in one week was too much, so I make excuses. We walk down to the subway...and this next part happens so quickly.....
I'm pointing to the entrance to the 7 Train saying, "well, that's me...."
He's saying, "please let's do this again", and then his face is coming towards mine....and I'm thinking, okay, a kiss is fine....and then his tongue is in my mouth....!!
Monday, August 31, 2009
B#2 and I were matched in December, started going through the process in February and started emailing in April. I liked his profile because it was well written and complete, even though I found some of his profile pictures comical (there was a middle school-esque head tilt with the hand on the chin, thoughtfully pondering pose). I had started travelling for work at this point and we did not email frequently. And I have to admit, I wasn't super excited about him in general so that was certainly one of the reasons I didn't care we weren't very frequent in our communications.
At the end of July my subscription to eharmony was coming to a close and I wasn't super thrilled with my matches or the price for love, so I decided to let my membership lapse. But I didn't want to shut out the work I had already put in with B#2, so I emailed him and said hey, my subscription is lapsing, here's my personal email address. He emailed me back immediately. I was leaving the country for about ten days later that day so I emailed him back saying, hey! thanks for the email, this is gonna be short but let's catch up when I return.
Fast forward to returning from my vacation. I didn't actually get back to him immediately (see my lack of enthusiasm from before), but received an email from him at the end of the week asking how my vacation went, etc. I was (pleasantly) surprised by his initiative. We emailed a bit and I went in for the kill. I mean, really, we've been in contact since April - what's the hold up??
I email him and say, hey! How'd ya fancy meetin' up sometime? (okay, not in those words). He responded affirmatively and we made plans for Tuesday after work. We spent the next few days chatting over gchat IM -- he and I work in the same field so we always had some conversational thread. Our emails back and forth were long and thorough. I was beginning to like this boy.
Tuesday rolls around and I get nervous. Very, very nervous. My good friend and coworker takes pity on my boyfriendless soul and goes to dinner (with drinks) with me before the 6:45 date.
On my way over to the bar I get a text from him: "headed over now, do you want to meet out front? I'm wearing a white button down shirt, jeans and a black messenger bag".
my response: "I'll be there in less than five. See you out front!"
Oh god. Nerves.
I stroll up the The Australian and there he is. As a side note, it's very strange to meet up with someone you've been chatting with for weeks (months!), seen pictures of, but never met. I approach him and say hello, and he kinda just stands there so I take the initiative and say, shall we?
We enter the bar, there is no seating. And in the only act of decidedness he takes all evening, he says, "let's stand over here" and chooses a location. We get drinks and alas, I order a hard cider than came in this gigantic bottle. So, I have two drinks to his one.
We start talking and in less than five, he's staring at my boobs. Not a subtle, I could be checking out something else, but a flicker down, linger, flicker up, flicker down, lingerrrrrrrrrr, flicker up. Oh, and repeat that. About 20 times. At this point I am actually chuckling in my head. I'm amused because it's SO ridiculous. I mean, I get it. I have boobs. Fairly large boobs. Glorious boobs!! But there is an art to checking someone out while not making them aware of it. He has yet to master that skill. This continues all evening. Not awkward at all.
Meanwhile, he finishes his drink but I still have mine and he's not making any motion to go get another one. And so I start to feel awkward that I'm drinking and he's not.....but he's not taking the initiative to just.go.get.one!
About 45 minutes into the date this woman at the cocktail table next to us approaches us to give us her extra seats. I try to decline because I don't want to settle into the evening with this Boob Starer. We wind up allowing her to pawn off her extra seats, she introduces herself to us as Lisa and says:
Lisa: "So what's going on here? How do you know each other?"
Me: "Actually.....this is our first date"
Lisa: "really!! is it a dotcom?"
Me: "yes, it is actually"
Lisa: "which one?"
Lisa: "oh yeah, I've done that too. I'm on chemistry.com. And you know how it is (elbows me) you gotta kiss alotta frogs before you meet a good one! pause - So, how's it going? (and points to B#2).
Me: "oh, um, well I haven't run screaming out the door just yet!"
Lisa: (asking B#2) "What's up with your face? Your facial hair....can you explain that to me? Because that's not in style!"
B#2 looks at me for direction and I just shrug my shoulders at him (because honestly, I am really enjoying the amazingness of this situation). He explains that he grew out sideburns and decided to grow some mutton chops.
Lisa: "oh, no! You would look so much better with out it! You should shave it off!" Looking at me - "what do YOU think? because THAT'S what really matters"
Me: "well, um, I think its personal preference. Whatever works for him is fine"
At this point, Lisa approaches B#2 and puts her hands on his face, covering his mutton chops and says how much better he'd look without them. He wears his hair slightly long and she places her hands on his head, pushing the hair back, saying how much better he'd look if he cut his hair.
Lisa: "Oh, yeah, totally. Shave that, cut this. You'll look SO MUCH BETTER!"
The whole while, he's looking at me for direction and I'm not helping him. I'm much too amused to want this to end and Lisa is saying everything that that little voice in your head wants you to say, but you don't.
Lisa leaves and I tell him that I feel badly that I'm still drinking while he's not, thus giving him permission to go get another drink. So he does. Lisa returns.
Lisa: "How's it going?"
Lisa: "yeah, I can tell he's not the one for you"
Oh, Lisa. How right you are.
We manage to converse for another hour or so before I am very ready to go home. Again, I'm the one that takes charge, and say, it's time to go. We walk to the end of the street where I tell him I'm headed to Bryant Park, he tells me he's headed to Port Authority. He stands there and stares at me, clearly unknowing how to handle the situation. So...um...I take charge. I hug him good-bye. I say: thanks for coming out! it was nice to meet you! get home safe!
I walk away.
35 mins later I receive a text saying what a pleasure it was to meet me, how nice of time he had, hoped I got home alright. In an effort to not be a total bitch, I respond: thanks, have a great night!
He texts the next day, I chicken shit the situation and do not respond.
Recipe: Plain Baked Chicken
2 large chicken breasts
Reach out and grab the chicken, massaging the salt and pepper into the meat.
Bake at 325 degrees for 30 minutes, or until there is no life left in them.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
As I blogged about before, there's a certain stigma to online dating. But the thing is; it seems like everyone is doing it! I was going through my closed matches on eharmony and usually this is a mindless task, I click the profile, click "closed match". This steps aren't necessary but if I don't do them, the matches just sit in my "match" box forever; staring at me with the "closed" message. And because I'm anally retentive, I must get rid of them. So, click click, close. But every once and a while I will let my eyes flicker up to the top of the page to look at the picture of the person who doesn't want to date me. And in the briefest of moments, I flick up.....and see someone I know!!!
I couldn't believe it. I went back and sure enough, there he is, this guy I knew from Buffalo. He ended up in my match box because he now lives in my search radius. OMG! Buffalo boy! I was never friends with him, but he was friends with my extended group of friends and we certainly know each other. It made me wonder: did he see that we were matched and anxiously click close, hoping I would never see him? I also couldn't believe he closed me out!!! Boo for Buffalo boy. I never would have considered dating him, but felt rebuffed that he closed the match. No matter. I clicked on the "send a last message" box and chose from the preformulated options, "good luck with your search!". I wanted him to know that I knew! mmhmm.
A few weeks later I'm in my kitchen making dinner whilst my lovely roommate is trolling OkCupid for men (she has an insatiable appetite for them. She's a maneater!) and she calls to me, "Emily! I think I was matched up with ____ (insert name of a friend). I responded, "no, I'm sure it's not him"....her: "I'm pretty sure it is..." So, I ramble over to the couch and over her shoulder I see it, a picture I recognize. It was - it was him. They were matched at 97%, a match made in Internet dating heaven.
In the span of a few short weeks, I "ran" into two people I know in the online dating world. Guess it's not as uncommon as I people pretend....
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
My story with B starts two years ago. It was six months of intense happiness, focus, attention. It was new and exciting. The possibilities were endless. Until one day he text me to tell me how busy he was and he'd be in touch soon. Soon actually translated to never. I was too proud to contact him and I stood my ground. Months went by. After three months I called him and we made plans to meet, the conversation was normal, we acted like no time had passed at all since communicating, all seemed well with the world. But, meet we did not. He stood me up. I didn't hear from him after that -- no explanation, no apology.
Fast forward to one year later, this past January. After a year of no contact and yet still wondering what happened to him and how he was, I broke down and emailed him. Hey B! I know this is out of the blue but in the light of the new year I thought I'd drop you a quick note to say hey, hope all is well.
Two days later, a response. My heart skipped a beat. He thought about me too, wondered how I was, didn't think I wanted to hear from him. I read and re-read this email over and over. I responded (of course) and then waited in silence. Nothing. I couldn't understand. Why did he bother to respond to me if he wasn't going to communicate with me? Why tell me he thought of me, if he was just going to cut me off again? And then, around one week later I got my answer. He drunk emailed me to tell me he was engaged. This was his M.O. -- only ever being frank about his feelings with me once he'd been drinking. So, for whatever reason, he felt the need to get drunk to tell me that he was getting married. I was reeling. Engaged? EnGAGED?!
Now I had to wonder, is this why he stood me up? When did he start seeing this girl? What was the overlap between her and I? So many questions. No answers. Because I'm sadistic, I emailed him back and pretended to be happy for him in an effort to get some answers. That's amazing! Congratulations! That's so great. How long have you two been together? What else is new?
Aaaaaaaaaand in true B fashion, no response. And so, this was all I needed to know to finally move on. I may not have gotten the closure I was looking for, but closure it was. He was getting married. Story over. Except it isn't. He emailed me last week.
Hey Emily! How are you? Sorry it's taken me so long to get back to you, I promise I'll get better. Guess what? I'm coming to NYC! Can't wait! It's going to be an amazing trip...it'll be my honeymoon! Wwwwwwwwhhaaaaaaaaaaat?!?! Bomb, Bomb, Bomb. First - hearing from him. Second - he's going to get better at keeping in contact with me? Third - he's coming to NYC ON HIS HONEYMOON?!
I just don't get it. I guess I never did. Just when I've buried something, it bubbles back up. Very amusing dating gods, thank you, thank you so much. Dont get me wrong, I don't want him the way I used to. But sometimes I wish things would just stay in the past.
Recipe: Grilled Cheese Sandwich
Two slices of Irish Soda Bread
Irish Cheddar (make sure this is from the back of your fridge so it's nice and moldy. You know, the cheese you forgot you had?)
Heat a frying pan over medium heat. Butter the outside of the bread, place moldy cheese inside. Grill until it's hot and melty. Serve but don't eat because 1) it's too hot and it'll burn you and 2) it's moldly (this crap is BOUND to eff you up inside!!)
Monday, July 20, 2009
T-bag (as I will call him because I’m feeling neither creative nor affectionate) and I met online as many blossoming relationships do these days and we hit it off immediately. Jokes! We both had them. He worked in finance and does stand up, and myself, well I love douchbags and think I’m hysterical, so it was a match made in OkCupid heaven. We exchanged emails, wrote back and forth a few times, and decided to go on a real date.
And it was a real date. We went out to dinner and then saw a show. It was probably the most real date I’ve been on in my 24 years. We had so much fun, we talked for hours, played buck hunter, some other dude hit on me in front of him, it was perfect! We made out and he was totally a good kisser. This, I thought, could actually be going somewhere. As Aretha Franklin told me, it’s in his kiss.
We went out a few more times, real dates! And then he came to my birthday party after telling me he wasn’t sure if he could make it. He was actually at the bar waiting for me when I showed up with a huge shit-eating grin on his face. T-bag was so into me, all my friends could tell. They all congratulated me for dating a non-douchebag. I was either on, or somewhere near, cloud 9.
In this weird state of euphoria I decided to do something for him that I never do. Ever. I invited T-bag over for a huge brunch extravaganza that included spinach Gruyere crepes, roasted potatoes and blood orange mimosas. I even baked cookies with Mandy the night before. I stood in my kitchen and thought…this shit just got real.
It was his idea to have a “day-date,” and we’re both so busy that I didn’t really think anything of it, although perhaps that should have been my first sign. The second sign should have been that he didn’t show interest in taking any article of my clothing off. But he’s not a douchebag, and he likes me, and is interested in more than my fantastic, fantastic breasts. I thought the date went spectacularly. We talked about hanging out more during the week and how close my work is to his so we could even maybe meet up for lunch some times.
A couple of days pass and I don’t hear anything from him, but it’s not unusual because neither of us has the unreasonable expectation of immediate responses or daily communications, so I shoot him a quick email about grabbing dinner at some point during the week. He calls me that night, again nothing abnormal until he says, I need to tell you about something.
Oh fuck. I know what that means. I’ve been around this block plenty of times.
You see, T-bag had this ex girlfriend and they broke up a while ago, how long ago I’m unsure, but he randomly ran into her at a party last week. And wow, then randomly again, they ran into each a second time. Funny how that happens. And they had a long talk and they are going to try real hard to work things out between them because they were together for a long time, or something. And he is really, really sorry, I am an amazing girl and he had so much fun with me, and he has been on the receiving end of this so many times, so you see, he knows how it feels. But he really, really wants to be friends with me and maybe buy me a burrito some time.
Yes, he said a burrito.
And I said, "Well, T-bag, thank you for telling me, I understand. I hope everything works out for you. Maybe we will get a burrito some time, but I need to go, it’s late."
And thus ended my only some-what successful attempt at dating in ny (thus far), with a guy who would rather be in a complicated mess with an ex girlfriend and provide me, the described awesome girl he had so much fun with, the offer of a burrito.
I suppose it is time to try again. Hopefully next time my consolation prize will be upgraded to a veggie burger. I think if I work hard enough, and get enough couples back together, I can get probably get at least a few McDonalds gift cards.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
After that, it’s completely out of your hands. You’re done selling yourself and your potential suitor either likes you or they don’t. If not, then move along because there is no point in wasting your or their time. And in a city like New York, it’s all about efficiency. Kelly had done all the work and put my plan into action without the stigma of actually posting the ad myself. Needless to say, I was totally gung-ho with the entire scenario. The entry below is a direct result of this dating endeavor….
The quick background:
Attractive attributes: good witty banter, adorable ironic hipster glasses, a like for music and movies, a complete lack of knowledge of politics and an affinity for baked goods.
After many missed gchat messages, Mark (whose name has been changed to save his identity) and I finally decided to meet up at a bar downtown after I got off work. Despite the dreary and dismal weather I was upbeat about my new potential suitor. On my way to the bar, umbrella in hand, I literally ran right into him. Serendipitous I thought, truly this date was off on the right foot.
We started walking to the bar a 2 blocks away from our chance meeting on the corner. Off handedly he mentioned that he “didn’t really drink” but then instantly reassured me that he didn’t mind when others did. This immediately sparked my curiosity. Could it be that he was a recovering alcoholic? Did he have some major moral or religious objection to drinking? Was it something completely ridiculous, like it gives him terrible gas? Who knew… I mean, I did meet this guy on craigslist…. Anyway, we settled in to a table in the corner and after a brush off the first time, I asked again why he did not drink. The answer: “I don’t drink many liquids.” Wow, that came out of left field. What does that even mean?!
Apparently, our dear friend Mark has a liquid drinking regime. In the morning he likes to drink something green such as spinach, followed by something orange, then he moves on to a fresh fruit juice – perhaps a pressed apple… He continued to speak, but it was at this point that my brain stopped functioning for a half second.
Oh yes, I had in fact, agreed to go out on a date with “a crazy.” Now, after weighing my options and the severity/dangerousness of the crazy, I thought it was in the best interest of future storytelling and this blog to carry on with the rest of the date. It had only been 20 minutes…what other gems could come from this?
After deep contemplation, which to the normal person was only a fraction of a second, I fell back into step. Acting as though what he’d just said was not bat shit crazy. We continued to talk about various subjects such as music, school and the ever popular angst ridden teenage years. I can’t lie, there were several points in our conversation that I did enjoy. Namely our discussion of being a sound engineer, which, if you know me, is a topic I can talk about forever. Though, after about an hour of talking I had reached another solid conclusion: not only was he crazy, he was pretentious about it. No alcohol was good enough to drink, no teacher good enough to teach, no band good enough to listen to, no job good enough to do…… Did I mention that he was unemployed?
If nothing else, I was also determined to get a free meal out of this. So when he suggested a change in location I was all for it. I even threw out a plethora of suggestions, all of which did not seem to interest him in the least. I let him choose and we ended up at a local pizza place. Seriously! All I would get from dealing with this guy was a slice of Sicilian?! Oh no. I ended up getting much, much more.
If you thought his drinking regime was crazy… well stand back for his restrictions on eating.
The reason why he dismissed all of my suggestions is because when it comes to food, less is more. He did not like “ethnic food” because he had:
- consistency issues; and
- only liked foods with minimal ingredients.
After much scintillating conversation about his VHS collection – primarily comedies between 1972 and 1986 - we started walking. I’m not sure where he was walking to but I knew I was heading straight to the subway. We ended up in Union square, said a quick and awkward goodbye, hugged, pretended that we would perhaps meet up again and went our own separate ways.
I will state for the record that I in no way regret this date. In fact, it may be one of the best – worst dates of all time. If nothing else I got quite the story out of it.
Lesson Learned: When life gives you apples… make some fresh pressed apple juice.
Apple Shake (2 servings)
1 cup vanilla ice cream (Feel free to substitute a soy ice cream if you have some sort of dairy intolerance)
2 cups freshly pressed apple juice
2 ripe bananas
1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
Combine all ingredients in blender until smooth.
It’s easy and has minimal ingredients. Enjoy!
Thursday, July 2, 2009
This is what started it all:
A three point presentation on why Amanda would make the best gf ever.
In the fine spirit of camaraderie, I want to introduce everyone to your dream girl: Amanda. She is bangin, basically in every way. I would totally rail her myself, but I’m also a girl and we’re not into that. Well, maybe, but there would have to be a dude involved. A very hot dude. But, I digress…
So Amanda. She is gorgeous, tall, and brunette, in crazy amazing shape—runs every day. She is fun and funny and totally adorable, but for some reason she isn’t getting it on the regular. I have no idea why; she should be rolling five deep.
Being the children of corporate America that we are, I thought the best way to appeal to our target demographic is through a 3-point presentation on why she would make the best girlfriend ever. In the interest of time and efficiency, there is a conclusion statement at the bottom of each point that summarizes the key themes of the post.
If you are smart, funny and successful, between the ages of 24 and 32, I strongly encourage you to seriously consider the following:
1) Low Maintenance.
You want to go out with your dudes? She is cool with that. You want to split the check? She is cool with that. You want to wear gross old sweat pants and not shower for days? She is probably not ok with that, but we all have standards. Personal hygiene is one of them.
She loves drinking beer, singing karaoke, watching movies like the hangover, playing wii and tequila shots. Super chill doesn’t even begin to describe her temperament. She will bake you cookies all the time.
Conclusion: As long as you shower, you can hang out with your friends and drink beer whenever you want. Also, she is not crazy.
2) Sexual Relations.
She is down always. All the time. In the garden or in the dirt. You can do it in the pouring rain, runnin the train when it's hot or cold out How 'bout in the library on top of books? But you can’t be too loud.
I thought there was no better way to get the point across then with some Luda.
Conclusion: You will get to bone. A lot.
3) Smart & Hot & Funny: Whole Package
There are few ladies who are so accomplished, and do it with such polish (including slant rhymes). Mandy is the type of girl that your friends would tell you is way too good for you, and then hit on her behind your back. But never fear, she will politely decline their bold offers because she only has eyes for you. <- Precious.
She can quote dirty movies, talk like a sailor (when appropriate, of course) and wrestle a crocodile with one hand, all while looking fabulous. Intimidating as it may seem to be with someone who is basically perfect, she still has a few flaws to keep you interested, as in: she cannot speak French and she sometimes falls down. Other than that, I can think of nothing.
Conclusion: She is bangin.
If this sounds like the lady for you, please shoot me an email and I will put you through the vetting process.
Age: 24 and on the brink of hitting my quarter life crisis
Sign: Virgo (barely)
Favorite Sport: Dodgeball – ( Yes, it’s a sport, don’t judge)
Favorite Food: Tropical Dots
Hobbies: Baking, crafting, people watching, sparkles, MTV’s the State, writing letters, making mixed CD’s, eating frozen yogurt, alternative big kid sports, running, post scripts
I’m usually thinking about: if I were making the soundtrack to my life what song would be playing right now.
Height: 5’10 – Hence my complete and utter inability to wear heals
Hair color: after finally ditching my goth-ish black hair… I am now a completely normal shade of golden brown
Eye color: brown with a twinkle of hope in them
Things I find attractive on the opposite sex/first things I notice:
- Hygiene – are you slightly unkempt or dirty, yet still socially acceptable?
- Facial hair – I’ve grown to love a good beard or an ironic (well kept) mustache – though not a requirement, on the right person, I love it.
- Eyes – Yes, this is very cliché but it’s on everyone’s list for a reason. You can’t deny that beautiful eyes can make your heart melt.
- Someone that can make me laugh. Not just a polite chuckle but a belly laugh that makes your sides ache.
Well, my average number of dates per person tends to hover around 3 or 4. Is this by choice? Sometimes yes but mostly no. I think I might have “why aren’t they calling me back?” syndrome that many women suffer from. I’ve also discovered that people I have no interest in, love me. While those who make my heart go a flutter, stand clear.
Why I’m doing this:
My life often plays out like a sitcom, so why not share it with the world. Now, if only my life had a laugh track….
Perhaps this blog will:
- Help me observe my dating habits
- Make me reexamine the type of person that I would like to be dating
- Finally validate that yes, it is in fact them and not me
- Confirm my biggest fear that it is me and not them.
I have decided to explore ALL methods of dating. I am going to try my hand at:
- Online dating
- Speed dating
- Self-help dating books
- Blind dates
- Bars/social events
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
So other than that, this is me.
Sign: Cancer, which I love since the last time I read my horoscope it was, “Today is a good day for a party.” Yes it is horoscope, yes it is. Other than that I know nothing about my sign, other than it looks like a crab.
Random shit: I love dinosaurs, reading, working out, boozin, photoshopping things, karaoke, improv comedy and art
Height: 5’9. Fight me. I dare you.
Hair color: Blonde-ish
Eye color: Blue-ish/Green-ish
Things I find attractive on the opposite sex/first things I notice:
- Teeth – I firmly believe a person’s dental hygiene says a lot about their character.
- Critter Pants – It is incredibly important for them to look as though they are a Young Republican, but not actually be one. Nothing gets me like some J.Crew or Ralph Lauren douche attire <3
- Job – Gotta have one of these. And not at Walmart.
- Height – Please be tall, as in over 5’10.
Oh boy. Well, you will be hearing a lot more about these kids later, but I’ll give you the short introduction now so you have SO much to look forward to (I will refer to them as there middle names to preserve at least some of their dignity):
Gabriel: Oh, Gabe, you were such a sleazy. We dated in high school, he got my V, broke up with me two weeks later and then told me he didn’t believe that I was actually a V. So you know, amazing.
Scott: This is an epic tale spanning eight years, from my junior year in high school until an incident about four months ago that involved him having multiple alarms set around his apartment so that he could wake up and eat pineapple with hot sauce on it and still be on time for work. He also began screaming at me that I was not his girlfriend and that there was nothing between us. And then five minutes later asked, “Can we cuddle?” And friends, there are 8 more years of shit like that. It is seriously epic.
David: We dated my senior year in college during one of Scott and I’s tumultuous periods. David played ruby very seriously, and one time I found him in his kitchen, propped up by a couple of his teammates feeding him water out of the brita because he was too intoxicated to stand up or feed himself. We were supposed to have dinner with my parents. We broke up shortly after when I decided I was moving to New York. Like we were dating seriously anyways. Bitch, please.
Why I’m doing this:
I’ve lived in New York for two years and am yet to meet a (straight) man who does not physically repulse me after actually getting to know him. And CLEARLY my standards are very low. So that says a lot.
Maybe if I have a reason to go on dates I will meet someone who is actually human and likes ladies that are successful and funny and attractive.
I’m going to do what Emily and Mandy tell me, which I suppose includes:
- Online dating
- Speed dating
- Self-help dating books
- Blind dates
- Bars/social events
Age: 29 (but I’m told I look 25, and I’ve decided recently that when someone guesses that age, that I will reply, “good guess!” and let them believe that I am, in fact, 25).
Sign (seems like a bunch of nonsensical dribble but its a pretty accurate description): Pisces, Aries cusp – meaning: The Pisces/Aries cusp combination, also known as the Cusp of Rebirth, is the most favorable and desirable cusp, indicative of a union between intelligence and understanding. In essence, these cuspians are likely to possess strong mental powers coupled with the priceless gift of comprehension. The chief characteristics of this blend are vigilance and caution...each step carefully weighed prior to being taken. The power of intuition inherent in these natives is truly quite remarkable and they rarely go amiss when they rely upon their own judgment as formulated by their intuition. There is an extremely keen and valuable foresight here in all matters of a financial nature and these subjects will work out in advance the most brilliant of schemes and projects which are then executed with total success. The minds of these cuspians are always busily engaged in devising plans for new enterprises and projects. These people seldom fall into the category of being "loners."
Height: 5’8” in the morning, 5’7” after a hard days work
Weight: you’d have to be high to think I’m answering this
Hair color: currently, brown but have been known to go blonde
Eye color: blue and have been told they are my best feature
Things I find attractive on the opposite sex/first things I notice:
- Hands – there’s something about a nice sized hand, not too hairy, well kempt that just makes me wish that hand was on me
- Back – a nice set of broad shoulders tapering down to the waist….yes, please!
- Eyes – there’s something about a smile that reaches to the eyes that puts me at ease
- Someone with at least a modicum of drive in their life
Um, alright, I’ll say it – I’ve never really had a serious relationship. Which begs the question, why not? what’s wrong with you? In the interest of full disclosure because this blog, and the intent of this blog, is so that we can examine what dating in NYC is like I will tell you; I have a heightened fear of rejection that colors (read: inhibits) my dating life (or lack thereof). That’s not to say there haven’t been men, but nothing worth noting and certainly no one that’s been brought home to meet the ‘rents.
Why I’m doing this:
I decided that since what I’ve been doing isn’t working for me, that something had to change. And in light of the modernity and technological leanings of my generation, what better way to chronicle what will promise to be a fun/humorous/adventuresome path wrought with bad (and good!) dates than to BLOG about it!
I have decided to explore ALL methods of dating. I am going to try my hand at:
· Online dating
· Speed dating
· Self-help dating books
· Blind dates
· Bars/social events
So, that’s me on paper! Let the fun begin!