So thanks to eharmony I connect with Boy #2. I have decided to let these men remain nameless and for simplicity's sake, number them by their number in my dating timeline (the story of boy #1 will come later as I ended my dating adventure with him AFTER boy #2).
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?"
Me: "eharmony"
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?"
Me: "meh"
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
salt
pepper
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.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Virtual World Meets Real World
Online dating.....amusing. One hopes to embark upon this adventure to meet someone compatible. I have yet to meet that person....but I HAVE met people online that I already know! Here is that story.
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....
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
When the Past Comes a Knockin'
Why do the dating gods seem to know exactly when you've gotten over someone, only to drop them back into your life? Friday morning I get into work, turn on my computer, and gchat loads up. When it does, a little box in the lower right hand corner scrolls through my unread messages and out of the corner of my eye I see it. His name. I actually sat there paralyzed, unable to believe that he's emailed me. Why?? What could he have to say to me? Why now? Why after all this time? Why when I'm entering what I hope to be a new dating chapter in my life where I don't gravitate towards men that are unavailable (emotionally and otherwise).
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?)
Butter
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!!)
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?)
Butter
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
I'm probably better off with the burrito.
Three weeks ago, right at the beginning of this blog experiment, something kind of crazy happened. I met a boy I really liked, and he liked me back. It was insane. And clearly, short lived.
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.
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
Emily - My First Attempt: Online Dating
Oh, the stigma of online dating. It's said in hushed tones....they met....online. It's almost like it's an admission of being the worst kind of single - the one who couldn't actually meet someone in real life....they had to go ONLINE. Shock! Horror! Shame! Is meeting online the sexual equivalent to arriving at a dinner party with a pie, only having to admit that you bought it at the gas station on the way over? Looks like one thing, but is really a cheap, cheaters version of the real thing? Mmm, pie. Ok, distraction over.
In this digital age we live in where we google potential suitors names, search for them on facebook, follow their blogs, clandestine cyberstalk; you'd think meeting people online wouldn't be given a second thought. But it does. I love the split second hesitation I get when I tell people I'm going to try online dating and have a profile on eharmony. There is the briefest of pauses and then the, "wow! that's great! totally!" delivered with a smile and a glint of "thank god that is not me" behind their eyes. I actually know more than one couple that met on eharmony and are now married. And since the government says advertisements can't lie, I believe those ads with all those smiling couples that say they've found their soul mate on the site, and I can too!! (for the low, low price of $75 for three months). Wow, that didn't sound jaded now did it?
Regardless. I DID pay that price for the chance to meet someone to date.
I sign onto eharmony and am slightly daunted by what I'm faced with. I have 1,493 matches. Yes, over one thousand. Where do I even begin? Before I even start, I'm faced with a small delay -- lots of "closed" matches. These are guys that aren't interested. Awesome. Now, I get it - not every man on the planet is going to want to pursue a relationship with me - but imagine signing on and spending 45 minutes closing out matches that have already been closed. Let me tell you 45 minutes of acknowledging rejection after rejection can take a toll on your desire to continue this process. But, I trudge on. I am currently in the various stages of communication (on eharmony there are 4) with ten different guys.
How many am I excited about? Three. And one I haven't heard from in weeks (my suspicion is that his membership ran out). I'm trying to keep an open mind and am initiating communication with any man whose profile intrigues me. This usually means something that makes me laugh but I usually give consideration to: a complete profile (there are many that half-assed or not complete), someone that doesn't drone on and on about how buff they think they are, or how much they love their favorite sports teams. I am also suspicious of men who do not have profile pictures. Come on people! In this digital age, who DOESN'T have a digital photo of themselves?? Highly suspect. I'm not going beat around the bush here -- if HE'S too embarrassed to post a picture of himself, that doesn't bode well for me.
So what DOES make me quiver with excitement and anticipation? Well, that happened today. I received an email from a teacher in the Bronx, where he talked about something near and dear to my heart: Buffalo. Done! Funny, sweet, tied into my profile, and had a great writing voice. Understandably, he's a teacher, so I'd be really disappointed if he used bad grammar and punctuation, but he didn't! A fully completed profile! Pictures! Not too much for a girl to ask for, if you're asking this girl, that is.
So -- I'll leave here and go back over there, I have 1,493 men to cyberstalk.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Fresh Pressed Apple Juice & VHS
Any self-respecting woman would scoff at the idea of listing her best attributes and posting them on a public website for all to judge. Well, I’ve learned that when it comes to dating in NY, self respect along with pride and dignity are just a few of the things women are willing to sacrifice in order to snag the “perfect catch.” In this case, I am no exception. Sure, I could have been mad when Kelly posted that explicit, yet exceptionally well written, craigslist post without my permission but a part of me was relieved. I can’t count the number of times I complained that my life would be easier if I could say, "hey lets just cut through this whole process and I’ll give you a 3 point presentation why I'm awesome and you should date me."
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:
Name: Mark
Age: 29
Location: Brooklyn
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:
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.
Recipe
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!
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:
Name: Mark
Age: 29
Location: Brooklyn
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.
Recipe
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!
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