The Crazies - Story #2

This episode of The Crazies is a little bit longer because this guy continued to send me messages. Here is his attempt to convince me he is not crazy. Fail.

Email Title: hello

Body: You were one of my quiver matches and i usually just glance at the little paragraph hit ignore and keep moving. for some reason i kept reading yours. i guess cause i saw you've been to n.o. and i wanted to see what you thought of it. but still i kept reading then i perused your pics and your eyes are amazing and your a very beautiful woman. I know you must hear that everyday from a million guys. i do think we have lots in common. i would love the opportunity to get to know you better. if anything at all a new chat buddy is great I'm really hoping to hear from you. but if not god bless and all my best wishes. personally i find it hard to see a pic and just start writing to it. i'm surprised i've written this much.
besos
alex

After this initial email, he repeatedly IMd me. Basically every.single.time I signed on. I never responded, which is why his persistence is somewhat remarkable.

Email title: hey dear
Body: My greatest ally and my greatest enemy.... Honesty.... I know that I've visited your page a few times. I've seen that you've visited mines. I would love to chat with you I do think your extremely beautiful and eloquent. I don't have mesmerizing blue eyes like you or a that smile that rivals the sun in its warmth. I can definitely guarantee good conversations and my complete honesty. I really don't come on ok cupid that much. Every now and then I pop in to see if I've been lucky enough to receive a message but usually not and it's kinda depressing to not get any. So I try and stay away for as long as I can then I get bored or lonely and pop in again. your probably asking yourself why is he telling me this. Again that honesty thing gets me. My reasoning is that maybe if I give her my face book info she'll contact me?? I know I know wishful thinking. Anyways I'm sorry for bothering you. While I would love to hear from you I understand that I am just one of the millions contacting you. I wish you all the best in your search. God Bless...

After THIS message, he continued to "wink" at me and saved me as one of his favorites, and yes, still continued to IM me. To be honest, I feel kinda bad about it.....

Nevertheless, desperation is a cologne that doesn't smell good on anyone.

The Crazies - Story #1

I feel the need to start a story thread here because lovely Mandy and I often swap stories of The Crazies that contact us. It's entertaining and therefore perfect fodder for this blog. These will be short little vignettes. A mere breath of a story. They're so compact but yet, oh so potent. Just like a SBD.

My most recent communication from OKC:

Email title: Ur the 1

Body: I think I'm in luv with u, everything on ur profile, I feel like I kno u, its seems weird but maybe in my past life u were my wife!

That's not crazy, not crazy at all.....

The Freak Flag

As I mentioned in my last post, I’ve been in contact with dudes on OKC. Here is my one large takeaway and piece of advice to the opposite sex.

We are all sexual beings (some more than others) and I understand that we all have our “things”. For me, I like hands. And broad backs. I like manly men. Rugby players and Paul Bunyons are right up my alley. There are boob men. And ass men. And men who like skinny girls, curvy girls, and everything in between. We all have our things, I get it. However, I don’t want to know your sexual proclivity within the first five minutes of chatting with you. That is not enough time. But it IS enough time for me to say, um, okay, you just flew your freak flag too soon aaaaaaaaaand Ima peace out now.

When I am IMd on OKC I usually respond when 1) I’m in the mood to :-/ (I know) and 2) your picture seems attractive to me on some level, and lastly 3) if you start of the conversation with some sort of compliment. This will at the very least elicit a “hey” back.

On a few separate occasions, I have been in conversation with a dude and it’s gone something like this:

Dude: you’ve got a beautiful smile. How’s your night going?

me: aw, thanks. :-) it’s going well, you?

Dude: blah blah blah, more flirting

me: teehee, flirt flirt

Dude: talk nonchalantly about how awesome I am

me: I find that very interesting!

Dude: (out of blue) will you send me a picture of your feet?

me: _______no response______

Dude: hello? Did I say something?

me: ______no response_______

Dude: so, no picture?

Dude: how about I come over and give you a foot massage?

or:

Dude: Hi….I just wanted to tell you that I think you’re beautiful

me: hey :-) thanks!

Dude: talking talking talking about something he’s seen in my profile

me: yeah, I’m half Canadian but I was born in the US

Dude: I love Buffalo! And chicken wings!

me: {thinking, ooooooo, I think I like this guy!} I have to warn you though, I’m a chicken wing snob….

Dude: (conversation segwaying into what we do professionally) I’m an “Ad Man”

me: I throw him some ad jargon to show I’m advertising savvy and interested in him

Dude: you know what I do! you’re brilliant!

me: :-)

Dude: tell me about your legs

me:{AW MAN! flew his freak flag, aaaaaaaand I’m done}

Ad Man had potential, and I would have definitely gone on a date with him. Incidentally, I did flirt with him a little bit longer and gave him my number, which he called and that I let go to VM. What can I say? I think of myself as a ’nice girl’, but no I’m not perfect. Why didn’t I pick up the phone when he called? Because he flew his freak flag too soon. It does not bother me that legs are his thing. Totally fine. But to bring it up on this medium and that soon, it just doesn’t jive with me.

I guess I’m looking for a little bit more of a gentleman. I, too, want a gentleman on the street but a freak in the bed -- as they say. Let’s fly our freak flags people, but in the right place and time. Just a thought. Incidentally, if you want to send me a picture of you that shows your non-hobbit-like hands, that would be okay too.

Introducing Gentleman X!

Good morning ladies and gents. Is it nice where you are? It’s beautiful here. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Gentleman X, the ladies of Dating with a Dash of Salt’s charmingly anonymous heterosexual male friend. After a year and a half in a committed, monogamous relationship, I have been released into the wilds of singledom, thanks in part to a puppy (story to come at a later date). With little fanfare, I find myself thrust back into the NYC singles scene, and therefore in a position to provide the much needed testosterone shot to this blog. Ladies, join me as we laugh at my shortcomings and difficulties connecting with others. Men, join me in the times we will toast my successes (rate of frequency to be determined). Ask me anything and rest assured, the things Mandy has asked me will ALWAYS be more obscene and personal than anything you come up with.

So right off the bat, let‘s address the elephant in the room. As a 24 year old straight man living in New York City, it is NOT hard to meet girls. It’s a fact, there are more women than men (unless it’s Fleet Week), and the areas where it’s easiest to pick up a girl are common knowledge. That said, it can be a daunting task to meet a girl that one really likes. Let’s check a scenario:

It’s Saturday night. Yours truly is in the basement bar of a club in Union Square. Music is playing, lights are low, and there is drinking to be done. I weave my way through the crowd, towards the bar, to grab drinks for my two friends and I. Cocktails in hand I slowly make my way back to my group, only to be stopped by three girls. “It’s her birthday!” yells one, while pointing to her friend. We exchange pleasantries, and I end up dumping the drinks and talking with the girls. Inevitably, I find myself talking only to the tall blonde, Lucy (name was NOT changed to protect the innocent). She works in advertising (me too!), likes the Kings of Leon (me too!) and plays tennis (not me, but I rock at badminton, close enough). We talk for a bit, and I excuse myself to rejoin my friends after getting her number. She gives it, seemingly eagerly and says she is looking forward to hanging out with me.

Fast forward the requisite two days and it comes time to call her (question for the girls: is it two days? Does a man need to wait to call you?). I step out the front door of my office, dial her number and let it ring. After a time, it goes to voicemail, so I leave a message. Lo and behold, it’s more than a week later and nothing; No call, no text. Lucy has gone from being a pretty, seemingly cool girl to a careless, self absorbed primadonna in the blink of an eye. Why even give me her digits if she wasn’t responsive? Is it that hard to lie and say “I have a boyfriend” if you aren’t interested? Don’t make me plan out calling you and then go through the hassle of leaving you an awkward voicemail. I hate voicemails. I don’t even leave them for my family members.

So Lucy, this recipe is for you. Don’t waste my time. Get some balls and don’t give out your number to dudes you don’t want to call you.

Chicken Cordon Bleu Balls

9 ounces ground chicken
1/4 cup cooked, diced ham
1 egg
1/2 cup Italian style bread crumbs
8 ounces Swiss cheese, cut into 1/2 inch cubes
canola oil for pan-frying

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C).
2. Combine the chicken, and egg in a large bowl until well blended. Gradually add bread crumbs until the mixture loses its stickiness and can be easily formed into balls.
3. Form the chicken mixture around the cheese cubes and chunks of ham, forming 2 inch balls. Place on a plate.
4. Heat 1 1/2 inches of oil in a deep skillet to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Fry the balls until the outsides are golden brown, about 4 minutes. Drain on paper towels, and place in baking dish.
5. Bake in preheated oven until cooked through and cheese is soft, about 20 minutes. Cool briefly before serving.

Online Dating. Free versus Paid.

Last summer I joined eharmony and dated (unsuccessfully) a few males. Over the winter I joined match.com and dated no one. Eharmony was really good at matching me up with people that I was compatible with, I simply didn’t have any chemistry with them……and the dudes on eharmony weren’t….um……..very attractive. On match.com, however, the profiles featured more attractive males, but I didn’t get the “success” that I did on eharmony. And after paying around $300 for my time on those sites I gave up on paying.

Paid sites discarded, I joined the masses on Okcupid.com. Here’s the lowdown on OKC. Pros: I get more traffic and contact on OKC than I did on the paid sites. Cons: when you click on someone’s profile and they’re online, they get a little notification that you’ve just looked at their profile. For whatever reason, I hate this. I do not want people knowing that I’m scoping them out. I know, it shouldn’t matter - it's a DATING site, but I hate this aspect of the site. I usually say an expletive out loud and immediately close the browser. This is how much I hate this site. Pro/Con: there is an IM feature. It’s a Pro in that it allows you to connect with someone immediately, it’s a Con in that I usually don’t feel like responding.

Remember how I just told you that someone can see that you’re checking them out? This is how it goes: I’m on the site, trolling for an attractive, non-crazy, hopefully employed, funny, interesting, non-self involved, intelligent man that hasn’t been snatched up yet and someone who is none of those things will IM me. But I need to click on their profile before I know this. So I do. And now they know I’ve checked them out. But I don’t want to talk to them. It’s just a basketful of uncomfortableness before I curse and close my browser.

Generalizations about people on OKC: the people on this site are more prone to be looking for someone to hook up than looking for someone to have a fruitful LTR with. Because of this I encounter many interesting men. And am IMd by them. And have quite a few interesting conversations with them (specific blog on this to come).

So, as I said in my last post, I am taking up the dating mantle again and giving online dating the ole college try. Paid sites out, free site in. And oh, its just as entertaining out there as ever!

Recipe:

Hang around your office meeting rooms around 2pm where you are bound to find free food leftover from lunch meetings. The food might be a little slimy, but at least it's free.

Dating with a Dash v2.0

Well, hello there! I bet you thought this blog was defunct, but you were wrong! Like the winter season, we were in hibernation but now we’re back with a vengeance! The summer months are quickly approaching, leaving us with the desire to get out there and explore not just the city, but the dating world as well.

You will notice a few changes to the blog, however. Once a trio of ladies, we are now down by one. Ms. Kelly has entered the realm of having a Plus One and will no longer be a contributor to this illustrious blog. She has found her Significant Other by the hand of yours truly and I take all credit for making this match happen. Male or Female, I full out expect them to name their first child Emily. Secondly, we will be introducing a male contributor! Gentleman X will be blogging occasionally and I think a male perspective here will be welcome and………interesting. J

Those are the updates here at Dating with a Dash of Salt. We’ll be posting new entries soon!

Dating, but Not.

I haven't been on a "date" in a while. Hence, the silence. I haven't been dating because 1) eharmony was exhausting and not fruitful, and 2) I was crushin' on someone else. It's funny how much clearer things are when you're on the other side of them. In the thick of this, I could not see the forest through the trees. Now, I'm hitting the clearing and seeing, wow, I just wasted a lot of time on that.

I was told from the outset that this male was not interested in a relationship. I did not listen. I guess I kinda figured that after an appropriate amount of time, he would get over the ex, realize that I was amazing....and, well, choose me. He did not. But strangely enough, it's okay.

I'd been in this weird purgatory of not knowing where we stood since we were friends.... but not just friends. Last week I did what every adult woman does. I got wasted by myself and wrote him a long incoherent email. I am very mature. We eventually discussed the e-mail and while, kindly, he did not come out and say the words, "I do not like you. Because, you smell." he didn't need to. Sometimes silence says what words do not.

As much as I thought hearing (or not hearing) that phrase would suck, it didn't. I feel surprisingly better. Freer. Now that I know that this will never become more than it is/was, I can look forward. Perhaps I should have tried my drunken tactics a few months ago.

me: "Hey! You! You're rad, I like you!"

him: "oh, yeah, about that....."

me: "oh, really? huh. Okay, good to know"

The End.

And now I can move on. I don't know if it's back to online dating or what my next tactic will be. But hey, it's a new year and now I'm not reserving part of myself in denied hope that this was going to become something.

Here's to fresh starts!

Lemon Meringue Pie (because it's sweet, tart, and FRESH!)

Ingredients

Lemon Filling:

• 4 egg yolks (reserve whites for meringue)
• 1/3 cup cornstarch
• 1 1/2 cups water
• 1 1/3 cups sugar
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 3 tablespoons butter
• 1/2 cup lemon juice
• 1 tablespoon finely grated lemon zest
• 1 (9-inch) pre-baked pie shell
• 1 recipe Meringue, recipe follows

Directions

Adjust the oven rack to the middle position. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

Whisk egg yolks in medium size mixing bowl and set aside.

In a medium saucepan, combine cornstarch, water, sugar, and salt. Whisk to combine. Turn heat on medium and, stirring frequently, bring mixture to a boil. Boil for 1 minute. Remove from heat and gradually, 1 whisk-full at a time, add hot mixture to egg yolks and stir until you have added at least half of the mixture.

Return egg mixture to saucepan, turn heat down to low and cook, stirring constantly, for 1 more minute. Remove from heat and gently stir in butter, lemon juice, and zest until well combined. Pour mixture into pie shell and top with meringue while filling is still hot. Make sure meringue completely covers filling and that it goes right up to the edge of the crust. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes or until meringue is golden. Remove from oven and cool on a wire rack. Make sure pie is cooled completely before slicing.

Meringue Topping:

• 4 egg whites
• 1 pinch cream of tartar
• 2 tablespoons sugar

Place egg whites and cream of tartar in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment. Beat egg whites until soft peaks form and then gradually add sugar and continue beating until stiff peaks form, approximately 1 to 2 minutes. Use to top lemon filling.

Yield: topping for 1 (9-inch) pie

It’s not me. It’s you. And your teenage angst.

Two of my best friends have lately suffered the same agonizing, horrifying fate.

It begins innocently enough. Two people meet, go out on a couple of dates. Maybe hit the sack once or twice…”I really like you”…”I like you, too”…and then bam…out of left field someone drops the, “I think you are great, but I’m just not emotionally available right now.”

Sometimes it continues with an explanation, “Once, in high school my girlfriend cheated on me and it ruined me for life. Even though that was over 8 years ago, I’m just not ready to let anyone in.”

Then one glistening tear falls down their face. So. Much. Emotion.

These words are, of course, teenage angst in a new and demented form. In New York it happens once every 13 minutes. Or once every 5 minutes if you are unlucky enough to inhabit Brooklyn. Unfortunately, most of my friends are attracted to Brooklynites like a moth to the flame.

And then, after the bomb of “emotionally unavailable” explodes the relationship into a zillion tiny little pieces that can never be put back together, he or she discovers that emotionally unavailable person is dating someone else. And then he or she feels like shit. Complete and utter shit. The type of shit that gets stuck on your shoe, dries and then leaves shit all over your apt in little dried up shitballs.

Even after the shitballs are vacuumed and the carpet fabreezed, they live on because you’ve only destroyed their body. Not their soul. Because the shitballs were really horcruxes and you only destroyed 3 of the necessary seven. That is shit science, my friends.

The shitball seed of doubt has been planted, and for weeks, nay months, every action of the opposite sex either affirms or denies their self worth.

We have all been there. I know I certainly have many times. And I know what you are thinking, and you are correct, she is totally not as pretty as me. She has nice hair, but other than that she is busted. And her personality sucks, too. Also. Did I mention that she sucks? One more time: she sucks.

But despite how sucky she may be, reality is he picked her. And they are in love. And they will probably get married and dilute his glorious, glorious genes with her sucky ones, and they will have completely average children who eat glue and almost fail out of college due to their excessive drinking habits, whereas our children would have written the next great American novel and won the Nobel Peace Prize for their work with orphans in the Congo.

We all have choices. He chose wrong. But that is not the point.

The point is: in his emotionally unavailable pity party he didn’t realize those things and he doesn’t deserve to have Noble Peace Prize winning children with me. The end.

Also, some people want average. They don’t want the challenge that comes with smart or funny or quirky or whatever else. Some people just want what society has told them to want and they don’t want to work hard for it.

The best way I can describe this is by paraphrasing something this guy said on The Real World last night to describe a girl he was dating.

“I like her because she is blond. I like that she has a nice body. I like that she says ditzy things when we hang out. I like that she has a high voice. Those are important qualities to me.”

Despite the fact that everything that comes out of his mouth is usually purposefully inflammatory, he was being serious. I turned to my roommate and said, “That is what is wrong with kids today.”

Someone’s hair color is not a quality. And someone worth being with isn’t going to think that way, because to think that way is to make everyone interchangeable. That is some Brave New World bullshit.

In my wise old age of 24, I know that I never want to be reduced to a string of physical qualities and any guy who doesn’t see how awesome I am for actual, quality reasons isn’t worth my time.

Sometimes relationships don’t work out for real reasons, clearly, some people just aren’t compatible. But if the “emotionally unavailable” card is ever played my advice is to run. Run far, far away. Because nothing screams “emotional immaturity” as loud or as clear. Even if they are 32. And you are better without them, because they didn’t appreciate you fully to begin with.

And when they do date someone else who you are far superior to, take some solace in the fact that they probably only like them for their stupid hair and fat ass. And you, my friend, are much, much more than that.

Lastly, do everything in your power to destroy those last horcruxes. My general advice is to tell my friends to get a hobby, which they don't really appreciate, but I think is sound advice. It will make you even more well-rounded than you already are.

Recipe for Shitballs.

Step on some shit.
Let it dry out.
Walk around your Apt.