I'm still here! Nothing funny or exciting has happened to me in a while. I haven't been on any dates since I canceled my Match membership. I'm still on eHarmony, but not really putting too much effort into it.
I've said it before, and I will say it again, eHarmony is dating for the socially awkward (and I refuse to count myself among the socially awkward). You should see some of the "matches" they send me. They're kind of pathetic. I can't even make fun of them, it makes me too sad.
I am, however, communicating somewhat actively with one guy on eHarmony, G. He actually seems like a really nice guy. He's fairly good looking, has a normal job (in IT), but is certainly nothing too exciting. Although, interesting enough that we may have coffee on Sunday.
In lieu of dating, (and smoking, I'm still not smoking! I think it's been 6 or 7 weeks! And not nearly as difficult as I thought it would be. I feel a little bit bad that I'm not struggling with this more. Like maybe I wasn't a true addict. Although I do have smoking dreams.) I've been working out. A LOT. Like six-days-a-week-a-lot. I tend to be a bit obsessive-compulsive, (Really? Me? Never.) and throw myself into stuff whole hog. At least working out is good for me. I could be throwing my obsessive-compulsive self into fire breathing or drag racing. (hee hee)
My new trainer, T, is great. He's super young, I think he's like 22. A recent college grad who is working on the Great American Novel. My friend F and I have gone back and forth over whether or not T is gay. Then T showed me the heart tattoo on his butt, explaining that it was due to his love for the Care Bears as a child. That settled that. I think the Fitness Manager at my gym (who is also a gay man whom I just love) likes to hire eye candy, as all of the trainers are really young and really cute. (Ooooh, like this one guy, J. He looks like a very young John Stamos. Yum.)
And, lastly, not to gross anyone out, but... Can anyone tell me why gym restrooms always smell like poop? Seriously! No matter which gym you go to (and I frequent two different gyms) all the restrooms smell like poop. All the time. It's gross. Also? While we're at it? Why can't they give us actual paper towels to dry our hands? I hate the air dryers, and I hear they are less sanitary. Plus, they very rarely work, with the button dangling from the front by it's Slinky-like spring.
Alright, I'm done ranting and raving. I will try to lead a more exciting life in the near future. I have some plans this weekend that could potentially turn out really bad or really good. I will totally fill you all in afterward.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Sunday, March 22, 2009
History Lessons
I've been thinking about my dad a lot the past few days. My dad and I don't have the best relationship. No one awful, terrible thing caused the rift. Just many years of little things. Plus, he's sort of oblivious to the whole thing. If you asked him, he'd tell you everything between us was fine. It's hard and I feel terrible about it, given that he is in such poor health. I hate that I'm carrying around this resentment, but on the other hand I find it really difficult to let it go. (Wow. Got a little deep there, didn't I?)
What brought all of this on was that my uncle posted a bunch of old family photos to Facebook. We're talking old. My dad was born in 1935, and most of these photos are of my dad as a kid, up until he graduated high school. I am so grateful that my uncle posted the photos. I totally see a resemblance between my dad and myself (I have his eyes), in fact, all four of us kids (and some of the grandkids too) looked exactly like the photo I posted here as babies. So cute (if I do say so myself).
It got me thinking that I should focus on good memories of my dad, rather than all the little resentments. Like the time he took me to some historic village in New York one day (we still lived in NY at the time, don't think we hopped on a plane from California just for a history lesson), just because I was asking a bunch of questions about the "olden days".
Or the time he did what N christened "the dance of anger" (which was a whole lot of jumping up and down) over something I had done. It was scary at the time (I was 16, I think, and my dad is a large man), but by about 5 minutes later it was hilarious. Literally, he was jumping up and down. At 6'5" and like 300lbs, I'm pretty certain the whole house shook.
My favorite story about my dad and me is this one though. My mom stayed home with me until I was 3 and they could put me in pre-school full time (back then they didn't take kids until they were potty trained). When I was ready for kindergarten they were kind of worried about what they would do with me in the afternoons, since kindergarten was only half day. I guess it was decided that I'd go to day-care after school and luckily the day-care had a bus that would pick me up at kindergarten.
On the first day of kindergarten my dad was so worried that I wouldn't know which bus to get on to go to day care that he hid across the street from my school crouched down in his car watching me to make sure that I made it. He thought that if I saw him I would demand that he take me home. (He was probably right.)
It was only when he was already there... across the street from an elementary school... hiding... in his car... watching a bunch of little kids leave their kindergarten class... that it ocurred to him what a bad idea this was. Luckily neither the police, nor I, spotted him and I made it onto my bus without a hitch, none the wiser, until my mom told me the story many years later.
I do love my dad. Of course, he's my dad. And it's stories like this, that I will carry with me when he's gone. (Believe me though, he is not going anywhere for a while. Even in poor health, he is convinced, as am I, that he's going to be kicking around for another 20 years.) None of the rest of it will matter.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Being 36 Rocks, For Reals
I am a firm believer in the idea that every person comes into our lives for a reason, and generally we can take away something good from the relationship, no matter how it ended. (See previous entry. And I still haven't figured out how to make that a link to that entry, but just scroll down. It's there, I promise.) Well, it's been a year and a half since M and I broke up and I still struggle to come up with something good that I got out of my relationship with him. I know. Sounds a bit ridiculous, right? I mean, why the hell was I with the guy for 3 years? Temporary insanity? Deep seated insecurity? I don't know. But! Finally, today, I figured it out.
Are you ready?
M was the first guy I ever believed when he told me I was beautiful. (As I say that, if you could only see me now... Seriously. My hair is all jacked up from being shellacked into a bun for my spinning class. I have a spot of zit cream drying on my chin. My belly is hanging over my pajama bottoms just a bit. I am so totally not hot at this very moment.)
Let's face it, I am a late bloomer. I have only recently developed a makeup habit worthy of a teenaged girl. I absolutely cannot leave Target these days with out purchasing some sort of new makeup. I'm particularly obsessed with finding the perfect mascara. (I'm still somewhat of a neophyte, seeing as I still get tricked into buying waterproof mascara. I hate waterproof mascara. Feel free to leave your perfect mascara suggestions in the comments.) It took me until the age of 36 to come up with a real skin care regimen. (I think I already told you. Spent a boatload of money on it, and the good news is, it's totally awesome. My skin is dewy and fresh.) And, within the last couple of years I've developed somewhat of an addiction to the Brazilian wax.
Now, I know that makeup, dewy-fresh skin, and a waxed coochie aren't what make a woman beautiful. What makes me beautiful, and what surprises me, is that I am just now, in my mid-thirties, starting to get comfortable in my own skin. And it's not just about knowing how to do your makeup or what to wear. It's about knowing who you are and owning it. I finally know who I am. I finally think I am beautiful. I'm sure I would've gotten here eventually, but I suppose M helped me along. Begrudingly, I thank him for that.
All of this comes to mind, as I prepare myself for my first session tomorrow night with my new personal trainer, T. (I'm on this total self-improvement kick, since I quit smoking. I figured with the money I was saving not buying ciggies, I could afford T. He definitely costs more than a weeks worth of ciggies, but not much.)
I've been forewarned that T is going to ask me to name some goals. I definitely have goals that relate to my physical appearance. Hell, I'd like to get rid of the muffin top currently puffed out around my pajama bottoms. I'd like my arms to be more toned (less jiggly) and my butt to be a little bit perkier. (One thing I have noticed with age, aside from crow's feet, is that my butt ain't what it used to be.) But, the more I think about it, the more I realize that not all of my goals are appearance related. Some of my goals are performance related. For instance, I'd like to be able to do 10 regular push-ups (no sissy kind with the knees). I'd like to be able to do at least 1 pull-up. (I have never in my life been able to do a pull-up unassisted.) Most of all, I'd like to make it through an entire workout with T without whining. I'd like to think that the sense of accomplishment I have when I've reached those goals will make me feel even more beautiful than a perky butt! Although, a perky butt sure will be nice.
Are you ready?
M was the first guy I ever believed when he told me I was beautiful. (As I say that, if you could only see me now... Seriously. My hair is all jacked up from being shellacked into a bun for my spinning class. I have a spot of zit cream drying on my chin. My belly is hanging over my pajama bottoms just a bit. I am so totally not hot at this very moment.)
Let's face it, I am a late bloomer. I have only recently developed a makeup habit worthy of a teenaged girl. I absolutely cannot leave Target these days with out purchasing some sort of new makeup. I'm particularly obsessed with finding the perfect mascara. (I'm still somewhat of a neophyte, seeing as I still get tricked into buying waterproof mascara. I hate waterproof mascara. Feel free to leave your perfect mascara suggestions in the comments.) It took me until the age of 36 to come up with a real skin care regimen. (I think I already told you. Spent a boatload of money on it, and the good news is, it's totally awesome. My skin is dewy and fresh.) And, within the last couple of years I've developed somewhat of an addiction to the Brazilian wax.
Now, I know that makeup, dewy-fresh skin, and a waxed coochie aren't what make a woman beautiful. What makes me beautiful, and what surprises me, is that I am just now, in my mid-thirties, starting to get comfortable in my own skin. And it's not just about knowing how to do your makeup or what to wear. It's about knowing who you are and owning it. I finally know who I am. I finally think I am beautiful. I'm sure I would've gotten here eventually, but I suppose M helped me along. Begrudingly, I thank him for that.
All of this comes to mind, as I prepare myself for my first session tomorrow night with my new personal trainer, T. (I'm on this total self-improvement kick, since I quit smoking. I figured with the money I was saving not buying ciggies, I could afford T. He definitely costs more than a weeks worth of ciggies, but not much.)
I've been forewarned that T is going to ask me to name some goals. I definitely have goals that relate to my physical appearance. Hell, I'd like to get rid of the muffin top currently puffed out around my pajama bottoms. I'd like my arms to be more toned (less jiggly) and my butt to be a little bit perkier. (One thing I have noticed with age, aside from crow's feet, is that my butt ain't what it used to be.) But, the more I think about it, the more I realize that not all of my goals are appearance related. Some of my goals are performance related. For instance, I'd like to be able to do 10 regular push-ups (no sissy kind with the knees). I'd like to be able to do at least 1 pull-up. (I have never in my life been able to do a pull-up unassisted.) Most of all, I'd like to make it through an entire workout with T without whining. I'd like to think that the sense of accomplishment I have when I've reached those goals will make me feel even more beautiful than a perky butt! Although, a perky butt sure will be nice.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Can I Quote You On That?
I got an email from Oprah today. You know. Cause we got it like that, Oprah and me. Anyway, she was asking her friends (like me) to share their favorite quotes. And while some of my favorites come from my mother, "After me, you come first." And some come from N, (back then known as the Prophet N) who famously said, "Why grieve for the future when you can dwell on your past?" I also have a favorite quote from a book...
"Every life is different because you passed this way and touched history." ~The Poisonwood Bible, by Barbara Kingsolver
Something about that quote really spoke to me so many years ago when I read it, and continues to speak to me today.
There is something profound to me about the idea that a seemingly small decision that one makes can have enormous effects, both good and bad, on others lives. We all think about that when it comes to something like drinking and driving; getting in that car is a deceptively small decision that can have such profound consequences. But what about when good stuff happens? (My mind spins trying to come up with examples.) Or what about all the ways that we touch others' lives without even knowing it? The things we do without even thinking about them that have positive impacts on the lives of others? How crazy is it to think that we have all touched history?
It just makes me feel good to know that no matter how small my life feels sometimes, every life is different because I passed this way and touched history.
"Every life is different because you passed this way and touched history." ~The Poisonwood Bible, by Barbara Kingsolver
Something about that quote really spoke to me so many years ago when I read it, and continues to speak to me today.
There is something profound to me about the idea that a seemingly small decision that one makes can have enormous effects, both good and bad, on others lives. We all think about that when it comes to something like drinking and driving; getting in that car is a deceptively small decision that can have such profound consequences. But what about when good stuff happens? (My mind spins trying to come up with examples.) Or what about all the ways that we touch others' lives without even knowing it? The things we do without even thinking about them that have positive impacts on the lives of others? How crazy is it to think that we have all touched history?
It just makes me feel good to know that no matter how small my life feels sometimes, every life is different because I passed this way and touched history.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Like a Moth to a Flame
I must be a glutton for punishment. I couldn't even stay off internet dating for a day. I signed up for eHarmony. And immediately regretted it.
eHarmony is like dating for retards, pardon my un-politically correct (politically incorrect?) term. But it really is. Everything is "guided". There is really very little opportunity for your personality to come through. In fact, rather than carefully read someone's profile on eHarmony, I generally just skim. I don't feel like much of the person's true essence (what a crunchy, granola word) comes through. Seriously, I'm communicating with a guy on there right now, and I'm having a hard time remembering anything more than his name and how tall he is. (6'6".)
Unlike Match, (I don't know why I was hesitant before to say which site I was on. Match, it was Match.) you can't see your profile how others see it on eHarmony. I think that's kind of a valuable tool. I used it a lot on Match, to see what others saw when they looked at me. Like a mirror, right? I use it here, when writing a post. I do most of my editing in "preview". It helps me see what needs to be changed or tweaked. But on eHarmony, I really have no idea how I come across.
So the matches they're sending me? Seem to be Match rejects. You've seen those eHarmony commercials with Tanyalee and Joshua? The really hot guy and very cute girl who supposedly met on eHarmony? Yeah, well so far none of my matches have looked like Joshua. Quite the contrary, as a matter of fact.
The weird part is when people "Close Communication" with you when you've never even communicated. So, what happens is, Dr. Neil Warren's eHarmony Matching Super Computer sends you people that you will supposedly connect with. Based on 29 factors and a personality test. (Did you know that I once applied to work at Clothestime at the Y in Tahoe? And I failed their personality test. I still don't even know what that means.) Anyway. Tonight I noticed that a couple of guys "Closed Communication" with me. When you do that, you're supposed to give a reason. You pick from a list of reasons, like "I'm pursuing another relationship" or "I think the difference in our age is too great", stuff like that. (Don't think for a second I haven't "Closed Communication" with matches already. But I've only closed them out if they "Requested Communication"!)
So, tonight I got a couple of "closes" from guys who I was just matched with yesterday. How rude! One said "I just don't think the chemistry is there." Really? How can you tell? The other said "Other". Which is the reason I have been giving most frequently. I would so much rather receive "Other" as my reason than anything else.
Oh well. I guess I will just keep on keepin' on. Hopefully, my eHarmony subscription will go by quickly and at least give me some good stories.
eHarmony is like dating for retards, pardon my un-politically correct (politically incorrect?) term. But it really is. Everything is "guided". There is really very little opportunity for your personality to come through. In fact, rather than carefully read someone's profile on eHarmony, I generally just skim. I don't feel like much of the person's true essence (what a crunchy, granola word) comes through. Seriously, I'm communicating with a guy on there right now, and I'm having a hard time remembering anything more than his name and how tall he is. (6'6".)
Unlike Match, (I don't know why I was hesitant before to say which site I was on. Match, it was Match.) you can't see your profile how others see it on eHarmony. I think that's kind of a valuable tool. I used it a lot on Match, to see what others saw when they looked at me. Like a mirror, right? I use it here, when writing a post. I do most of my editing in "preview". It helps me see what needs to be changed or tweaked. But on eHarmony, I really have no idea how I come across.
So the matches they're sending me? Seem to be Match rejects. You've seen those eHarmony commercials with Tanyalee and Joshua? The really hot guy and very cute girl who supposedly met on eHarmony? Yeah, well so far none of my matches have looked like Joshua. Quite the contrary, as a matter of fact.
The weird part is when people "Close Communication" with you when you've never even communicated. So, what happens is, Dr. Neil Warren's eHarmony Matching Super Computer sends you people that you will supposedly connect with. Based on 29 factors and a personality test. (Did you know that I once applied to work at Clothestime at the Y in Tahoe? And I failed their personality test. I still don't even know what that means.) Anyway. Tonight I noticed that a couple of guys "Closed Communication" with me. When you do that, you're supposed to give a reason. You pick from a list of reasons, like "I'm pursuing another relationship" or "I think the difference in our age is too great", stuff like that. (Don't think for a second I haven't "Closed Communication" with matches already. But I've only closed them out if they "Requested Communication"!)
So, tonight I got a couple of "closes" from guys who I was just matched with yesterday. How rude! One said "I just don't think the chemistry is there." Really? How can you tell? The other said "Other". Which is the reason I have been giving most frequently. I would so much rather receive "Other" as my reason than anything else.
Oh well. I guess I will just keep on keepin' on. Hopefully, my eHarmony subscription will go by quickly and at least give me some good stories.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Boys Don't Suck, Dating Does
For those of you keeping score, I am zero for two. Date number two, P, was a total bust. Apparently, not all musicians are yummy. P looked cute in his photos, and he looked cute as he walked up. Then he took off his sunglasses and smiled.
I'm about to be really mean, about a guy who certainly doesn't deserve it, but... He looked a little bit like Skeletor. (I feel awful for saying that, because honestly, he is a super nice guy. However, I feel it my duty to be honest here. And funny. And sometimes funny is mean.) Anyway, he's really thin, so much so that his face is a little bit sunken in, and he has what I can only call "old person smoker teeth". Does that give you any sort of a visual? They're the kind of teeth that are a little yellow around the edges and the gums are receeding. Make sense?
We had a lot to talk about, but I just couldn't get past the looks. I don't think I'm being shallow. I have got to be attracted to a guy. Plus, I felt like he was trying just a little bit too hard. Also? He kept talking about having been a Marine. (Yeah, like 23 years ago!) And? He's a Republican! Christ on a stick! How the hell did I meet the only guitar player ever to be a Republican???? Needless to say, there will not be a second date for P and me.
I feel like Charlotte York. I, too, have been dating since I was 15. I'm also exhausted. Where the hell is he????
I took my profile down today. Seriously. I. Give. Up. I'm not saying this because I need a pep talk. I'm just over it. Taking a break.
I'm about to be really mean, about a guy who certainly doesn't deserve it, but... He looked a little bit like Skeletor. (I feel awful for saying that, because honestly, he is a super nice guy. However, I feel it my duty to be honest here. And funny. And sometimes funny is mean.) Anyway, he's really thin, so much so that his face is a little bit sunken in, and he has what I can only call "old person smoker teeth". Does that give you any sort of a visual? They're the kind of teeth that are a little yellow around the edges and the gums are receeding. Make sense?
We had a lot to talk about, but I just couldn't get past the looks. I don't think I'm being shallow. I have got to be attracted to a guy. Plus, I felt like he was trying just a little bit too hard. Also? He kept talking about having been a Marine. (Yeah, like 23 years ago!) And? He's a Republican! Christ on a stick! How the hell did I meet the only guitar player ever to be a Republican???? Needless to say, there will not be a second date for P and me.
I feel like Charlotte York. I, too, have been dating since I was 15. I'm also exhausted. Where the hell is he????
I took my profile down today. Seriously. I. Give. Up. I'm not saying this because I need a pep talk. I'm just over it. Taking a break.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
The Misadventures of Moo
The location of last night's date reminded me of a funny story. It's too funny not to share.
One of the many reasons I love the company I work for is our Friday happy hour. Every Friday afternoon, right about 4 pm, A, our office manager, wheels out a cooler full of beer and wine along with chips and salsa. It's a company tradition. Some Fridays are more raucous than others, and I used to be a frequent participant in all of the craziness.
One Friday last March a group of us were having some drinks at the office. I was supposed to meet some friends at a bar later in the evening and since I was going to leave my car in the parking garage, I needed to go down to it to get my key card so I could get back into the building on Saturday to retrieve my car.
Our office is on the 18th floor, the parking garage, obviously, is underneath the building. So one would need to ride the elevator down to the garage. I'm not sure how this happened, but as I stepped onto the elevator, keys in hand, I dropped my keys! And you know that crack between the elevator and the floor your on? The one that doesn't look like much could fit through it? Yeah, that one. My keys (all of 'em, car keys, house keys, everything) fell through that crack. They didn't even bounce off anything. I swear, it was nothing but net!
I'm pretty sure I heard my keys hit the ground, 18 stories below. I immediately rode the elevator down to the lobby to see if the security guard could help me. No such luck. The only person who could get my keys out of the elevator shaft would be the elevator guy and that would cost me $150. Crap!
I may have panicked just a little. (Who me?) I called my friend C, who I was supposed to be meeting, hoping he would know what to do. He thought I was crazy. Then I called L, who had a key to my place. Got her voicemail. Then I called my landlord, got her voicemail as well.
I was stranded. No car (not that I was really in any condition to drive). No house keys (so I couldn't go home, even if I wanted to). What to do? Drink some more!
A bunch of us ended up at the Waterfront (the location of my ill fated date last night). We took photos in the little booth. We sang along loudly to the jukebox. We drank A LOT. I tried to forget my troubles.
Finally, around 10 pm my landlord called me back. Luckily, she was able to put a house key under my mat, so that when I finally did make it home I could get in. And of course, at home I had spare keys to my car. Problem solved.
A few days later, the building manager called me. She was so nice. She said that if I could wait a couple of more days to retrieve my keys, she wouldn't have to charge me, since the elevator guy was coming out anyway.
That Wednesday, one of the security guys tracked me down. He had my keys. I've never seen a sorrier sight. My car alarm fob was broken open, my car key broken clean in half, and my house key was totally mangled. But I had my keys! And it didn't cost me $150.
One of the many reasons I love the company I work for is our Friday happy hour. Every Friday afternoon, right about 4 pm, A, our office manager, wheels out a cooler full of beer and wine along with chips and salsa. It's a company tradition. Some Fridays are more raucous than others, and I used to be a frequent participant in all of the craziness.
One Friday last March a group of us were having some drinks at the office. I was supposed to meet some friends at a bar later in the evening and since I was going to leave my car in the parking garage, I needed to go down to it to get my key card so I could get back into the building on Saturday to retrieve my car.
Our office is on the 18th floor, the parking garage, obviously, is underneath the building. So one would need to ride the elevator down to the garage. I'm not sure how this happened, but as I stepped onto the elevator, keys in hand, I dropped my keys! And you know that crack between the elevator and the floor your on? The one that doesn't look like much could fit through it? Yeah, that one. My keys (all of 'em, car keys, house keys, everything) fell through that crack. They didn't even bounce off anything. I swear, it was nothing but net!
I'm pretty sure I heard my keys hit the ground, 18 stories below. I immediately rode the elevator down to the lobby to see if the security guard could help me. No such luck. The only person who could get my keys out of the elevator shaft would be the elevator guy and that would cost me $150. Crap!
I may have panicked just a little. (Who me?) I called my friend C, who I was supposed to be meeting, hoping he would know what to do. He thought I was crazy. Then I called L, who had a key to my place. Got her voicemail. Then I called my landlord, got her voicemail as well.
I was stranded. No car (not that I was really in any condition to drive). No house keys (so I couldn't go home, even if I wanted to). What to do? Drink some more!
A bunch of us ended up at the Waterfront (the location of my ill fated date last night). We took photos in the little booth. We sang along loudly to the jukebox. We drank A LOT. I tried to forget my troubles.
Finally, around 10 pm my landlord called me back. Luckily, she was able to put a house key under my mat, so that when I finally did make it home I could get in. And of course, at home I had spare keys to my car. Problem solved.
A few days later, the building manager called me. She was so nice. She said that if I could wait a couple of more days to retrieve my keys, she wouldn't have to charge me, since the elevator guy was coming out anyway.
That Wednesday, one of the security guys tracked me down. He had my keys. I've never seen a sorrier sight. My car alarm fob was broken open, my car key broken clean in half, and my house key was totally mangled. But I had my keys! And it didn't cost me $150.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Bad Date
I just got back from an epically bad date. It wasn't bad because anything weird or unusual happened. It was bad because I knew from the second I saw him that I was absolutely, in no way, shape, or form, attracted to him. And nothing he could do or say was going to change that. Plus, he was wearing way too much cologne. I can still smell it. Blech.
He was late, to begin with. Never good in my book, particularly on a first date. We met at the Waterfront, a bar a few blocks from my house (not that bar). As soon as he walked in I knew. He was just odd looking. Ginormous eyes, and an itty bitty mouth. Like the kind that looks like it could possibly be missing a jaw bone or something. Not unattractive completely, but totally not attractive to me. To give you a point of reference, he looked a little bit like Quentin Tarantino. Some may find that attractive; I would not be one of them.
He was also a slow talker. Took forever to get to the point. And when I asked him a question, his answer invariably started with "A week ago, last Tuesday..." He took forever to get to the point. If there was a point at all. Just an odd duck. I felt bad ducking out early, but seriously, it was painful. I couldn't wait to get home.
Oh well. He was one of 2 dates I have lined up for this weekend. (I know. I'm a busy girl.) Date number 2 is with P, a musician. As N has said in the past, musicians are yummy. P certainly is promising. I will tell you all about it after the date.
By the way, the date was so painful, it almost drove me to smoke. Instead, I went to Jack in the Box and got a Jumbo Jack and fries. I will be working that off tomorrow in my Athletic Training class of death. I figured it was better than smoking. Wish me luck for Sunday.
He was late, to begin with. Never good in my book, particularly on a first date. We met at the Waterfront, a bar a few blocks from my house (not that bar). As soon as he walked in I knew. He was just odd looking. Ginormous eyes, and an itty bitty mouth. Like the kind that looks like it could possibly be missing a jaw bone or something. Not unattractive completely, but totally not attractive to me. To give you a point of reference, he looked a little bit like Quentin Tarantino. Some may find that attractive; I would not be one of them.
He was also a slow talker. Took forever to get to the point. And when I asked him a question, his answer invariably started with "A week ago, last Tuesday..." He took forever to get to the point. If there was a point at all. Just an odd duck. I felt bad ducking out early, but seriously, it was painful. I couldn't wait to get home.
Oh well. He was one of 2 dates I have lined up for this weekend. (I know. I'm a busy girl.) Date number 2 is with P, a musician. As N has said in the past, musicians are yummy. P certainly is promising. I will tell you all about it after the date.
By the way, the date was so painful, it almost drove me to smoke. Instead, I went to Jack in the Box and got a Jumbo Jack and fries. I will be working that off tomorrow in my Athletic Training class of death. I figured it was better than smoking. Wish me luck for Sunday.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
What's On Your Ipod?
I stole this idea (she said it was ok, though) from one of my favorite blogs, Jen Lancaster's Jennsylvania. (By the way, I've read all of her books; Bitter is the New Black; Bright Lights, Big Ass; and Such a Pretty Fat. They are hilarious. I highly recommend them.)
Anyway, the idea is to put your Ipod on shuffle, see what comes up, write something about the song (preferably funny, but I make no guarantees). Here goes...
1. "What's Going On" Marvin Gaye
I love this song. It totally reminds me of my brother and the summer after I graduated high school. Also, I can't think of Marvin Gaye without thinking of "Sexual Healing".
2. "Touch Me in the Morning" Diana Ross
Clearly my Ipod is on some sort of Motown kick today. I think I downloaded this as part of a Diana Ross/the Supremes Greatest Hits package. Whenever I think of Diana I think of her in that concert at Central Park in the rain, imploring everyone to "reach out and touch sombody's hand".
3. "Pearls on a String" Ryan Adams
I adore Ryan Adams. His style of Alt Country is about the only kind of country that I can listen to. Well, him and Wilco. Whatever you do, do not go to one of his concerts and request that he sing "Summer of '69". He will have you thrown out, or so I've heard.
4. "Trouble" Coldplay
This song reminds me of driving through the desert with my ex-boyfriend C. It was late summer and still pretty hot out. I just remember it was dark out and we had the sunroof open. There's nothing like driving through the desert at night. It's so dark and clear. The stars are twinkling. You know how a song can take you right back, and you can feel and smell a memory? That's what this song does for me.
5. "Smile Like You Mean It" the Killers
I went through a total Killers phase a couple of years ago. Seriously. This CD never left my car stereo. I was with M then, and we used to go up to his cabin in the mountains like every weekend. I always took my own car, since I would have to leave before him to come back to the city and go to work. I listened to this the whole way up there, every single weekend for months. Now? I'm kind of sick of it. My brother and I are going to Coachella this year. The Killers are headlining the night we're going. I'm mildly excited to see them.
6. "Heal it Up" Concrete Blonde
OMG! I absolutely love Concrete Blonde. Not many people do. I especially love that the lead singer's name is Johnette Napolitano. Johnette. For real. You think her dad wanted a boy? Anyway, Concrete Blonde is a totally underrated band. I owe my love for them to my big brother. As a matter of fact, I totally owe my love for music to my big brother. And he never lets me forget it.
7. "Tyrant" the Bravery
Another 80's New Wave revival band, like the Killers. Love them too. Another CD that very rarely left my car's CD player a few years ago. I still like them, although I've heard they kind of suck live.
8. "Magic" the Cars
Love this song! Takes me back to the 80's. I loved the video, with Ric Ocasek walking on water in the pool. He is an unusual looking man, to say the least. He must have quite a personality to have married supermodel Paulina Porizkova. Oh! Which reminds me! America's Next Top Model starts tonight! Yay! (I am such a teenage girl when it comes to Tyra and ANTM. I love it.)
9. "Wonderful Life" Gwen Stefani
Aww. Who doesn't love Gwen Stefani? A few years ago N and I were so excited to see her in concert, we joined her fan club to get discount tickets. We called ourselves "Ste-FAN-i's". The $25 was totally worth it, we got 7th row seats. Gwen rocked it. The concert was awesome, aside from the totally disgusting couple right in front of us who kept making out. Gross.
10. "Lay Low" My Morning Jacket
I don't have any memories associated with this one. MMJ is sort of a new discovery for me. They're not new by any means, just new to me. I have fallen in love with them.
Those of you with blogs (you know who you are) consider yourselves tagged. It's fun.
Anyway, the idea is to put your Ipod on shuffle, see what comes up, write something about the song (preferably funny, but I make no guarantees). Here goes...
1. "What's Going On" Marvin Gaye
I love this song. It totally reminds me of my brother and the summer after I graduated high school. Also, I can't think of Marvin Gaye without thinking of "Sexual Healing".
2. "Touch Me in the Morning" Diana Ross
Clearly my Ipod is on some sort of Motown kick today. I think I downloaded this as part of a Diana Ross/the Supremes Greatest Hits package. Whenever I think of Diana I think of her in that concert at Central Park in the rain, imploring everyone to "reach out and touch sombody's hand".
3. "Pearls on a String" Ryan Adams
I adore Ryan Adams. His style of Alt Country is about the only kind of country that I can listen to. Well, him and Wilco. Whatever you do, do not go to one of his concerts and request that he sing "Summer of '69". He will have you thrown out, or so I've heard.
4. "Trouble" Coldplay
This song reminds me of driving through the desert with my ex-boyfriend C. It was late summer and still pretty hot out. I just remember it was dark out and we had the sunroof open. There's nothing like driving through the desert at night. It's so dark and clear. The stars are twinkling. You know how a song can take you right back, and you can feel and smell a memory? That's what this song does for me.
5. "Smile Like You Mean It" the Killers
I went through a total Killers phase a couple of years ago. Seriously. This CD never left my car stereo. I was with M then, and we used to go up to his cabin in the mountains like every weekend. I always took my own car, since I would have to leave before him to come back to the city and go to work. I listened to this the whole way up there, every single weekend for months. Now? I'm kind of sick of it. My brother and I are going to Coachella this year. The Killers are headlining the night we're going. I'm mildly excited to see them.
6. "Heal it Up" Concrete Blonde
OMG! I absolutely love Concrete Blonde. Not many people do. I especially love that the lead singer's name is Johnette Napolitano. Johnette. For real. You think her dad wanted a boy? Anyway, Concrete Blonde is a totally underrated band. I owe my love for them to my big brother. As a matter of fact, I totally owe my love for music to my big brother. And he never lets me forget it.
7. "Tyrant" the Bravery
Another 80's New Wave revival band, like the Killers. Love them too. Another CD that very rarely left my car's CD player a few years ago. I still like them, although I've heard they kind of suck live.
8. "Magic" the Cars
Love this song! Takes me back to the 80's. I loved the video, with Ric Ocasek walking on water in the pool. He is an unusual looking man, to say the least. He must have quite a personality to have married supermodel Paulina Porizkova. Oh! Which reminds me! America's Next Top Model starts tonight! Yay! (I am such a teenage girl when it comes to Tyra and ANTM. I love it.)
9. "Wonderful Life" Gwen Stefani
Aww. Who doesn't love Gwen Stefani? A few years ago N and I were so excited to see her in concert, we joined her fan club to get discount tickets. We called ourselves "Ste-FAN-i's". The $25 was totally worth it, we got 7th row seats. Gwen rocked it. The concert was awesome, aside from the totally disgusting couple right in front of us who kept making out. Gross.
10. "Lay Low" My Morning Jacket
I don't have any memories associated with this one. MMJ is sort of a new discovery for me. They're not new by any means, just new to me. I have fallen in love with them.
Those of you with blogs (you know who you are) consider yourselves tagged. It's fun.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Where Do I Know You From? Part II
Today, at the gym, my internet dating life AGAIN crossed paths with my normal life. Am I going to have to move???
Yesterday I took the plunge. I went to the gym closer to my house, the one downtown. They have this Athletic Training class there that I had been wanting to try. So one of my gays, F, and I went to the class. And it was great. The class is intense. But super fun. And I am sore like you wouldn't believe.
So, I actually liked the new gym. It's big and newly remodeled. The group exercise room is pretty spacious. There's tons of equipment. And! There's even a jacuzzi. (Not that I think I'll be using it. The whole idea of sharing a jacuzzi with a bunch of sweaty people I don't know totally grosses me out. In fact, if you could see me now, you'd see my nose totally scrunched up. I have to stop thinking about it or my face could freeze this way.)
Anyway, I was so sore today, but I thought that if I went to the gym and took a spin on the elliptical, that might make my legs feel a little bit better. There I was, minding my own business when I saw him... Crazy M! The one who probably sent me no fewer than 50 texts between date number one and date number two. The one who after 2 dates wanted to know what it would take to be my boyfriend. The one who still sends a text every now and then. The one who still looks at my profile every so often. Ugh.
I must've looked like a deer in headlights. I know I audibly cursed. I'm not sure if he saw me, he was walking into the locker room. Without knowing how long he'd be in there, I scanned the room looking for a piece of equipment I could use while remaining somewhat hidden. (I still had like 20 minutes left in my workout. I wasn't going to let him drive me away. The only outside force that has ever driven me away from a workout was this one guy's God awful BO on the treadmill next to me. But that's another story.) In front of me was a row of treadmills. One was right next to a big pillar that looked like it could offer some cover. Quickly, I made the switch.
I was on the treadmill for a few minutes, furtively scanning the room. I hadn't seen him come out of the locker room. As the minutes ticked by I thought I was in the clear. And then! There he was. Getting water, pretty much right in front of me. Turns out the pillar didn't offer me cover if M didn't stay to the left side of the gym. He then proceeded to settle in on the ab equipment directly in front of, but still a decent distance from me. With his back to me, I figured I could attempt to finish my workout.
For a good 15 minutes I tried to pretend he wasn't there. I did my thing. He did his. I told myself if he saw me, I'd just ignore him. This worked right up until he started toward me. I pushed stop on that treadmill so fast it wasn't even funny. And then? I turned tail and ran. To the women's locker room. I did really have to pee. But mostly I was hiding.
I still don't even know if he saw me. We didn't make eye contact, but I can't imagine that he didn't. I feel like a jack ass for running away. But I hate confrontation or any uncomfortable situation for that matter. Who doesn't though?
As of tonight though, I've decided that M is going to have to learn to share that gym. (To be fair, I did know that he works out there. I forgot though, until I saw him. But he was there first.) Regardless of the fact that he was there first, I fully intend to continue to work out there. Will I run away again the next time I see him? I don't know. (Probably.) I guess it is possible I'll have to face an uncomfortable situation. I'll live.
Yesterday I took the plunge. I went to the gym closer to my house, the one downtown. They have this Athletic Training class there that I had been wanting to try. So one of my gays, F, and I went to the class. And it was great. The class is intense. But super fun. And I am sore like you wouldn't believe.
So, I actually liked the new gym. It's big and newly remodeled. The group exercise room is pretty spacious. There's tons of equipment. And! There's even a jacuzzi. (Not that I think I'll be using it. The whole idea of sharing a jacuzzi with a bunch of sweaty people I don't know totally grosses me out. In fact, if you could see me now, you'd see my nose totally scrunched up. I have to stop thinking about it or my face could freeze this way.)
Anyway, I was so sore today, but I thought that if I went to the gym and took a spin on the elliptical, that might make my legs feel a little bit better. There I was, minding my own business when I saw him... Crazy M! The one who probably sent me no fewer than 50 texts between date number one and date number two. The one who after 2 dates wanted to know what it would take to be my boyfriend. The one who still sends a text every now and then. The one who still looks at my profile every so often. Ugh.
I must've looked like a deer in headlights. I know I audibly cursed. I'm not sure if he saw me, he was walking into the locker room. Without knowing how long he'd be in there, I scanned the room looking for a piece of equipment I could use while remaining somewhat hidden. (I still had like 20 minutes left in my workout. I wasn't going to let him drive me away. The only outside force that has ever driven me away from a workout was this one guy's God awful BO on the treadmill next to me. But that's another story.) In front of me was a row of treadmills. One was right next to a big pillar that looked like it could offer some cover. Quickly, I made the switch.
I was on the treadmill for a few minutes, furtively scanning the room. I hadn't seen him come out of the locker room. As the minutes ticked by I thought I was in the clear. And then! There he was. Getting water, pretty much right in front of me. Turns out the pillar didn't offer me cover if M didn't stay to the left side of the gym. He then proceeded to settle in on the ab equipment directly in front of, but still a decent distance from me. With his back to me, I figured I could attempt to finish my workout.
For a good 15 minutes I tried to pretend he wasn't there. I did my thing. He did his. I told myself if he saw me, I'd just ignore him. This worked right up until he started toward me. I pushed stop on that treadmill so fast it wasn't even funny. And then? I turned tail and ran. To the women's locker room. I did really have to pee. But mostly I was hiding.
I still don't even know if he saw me. We didn't make eye contact, but I can't imagine that he didn't. I feel like a jack ass for running away. But I hate confrontation or any uncomfortable situation for that matter. Who doesn't though?
As of tonight though, I've decided that M is going to have to learn to share that gym. (To be fair, I did know that he works out there. I forgot though, until I saw him. But he was there first.) Regardless of the fact that he was there first, I fully intend to continue to work out there. Will I run away again the next time I see him? I don't know. (Probably.) I guess it is possible I'll have to face an uncomfortable situation. I'll live.
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