Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Holiday Hiatus

It has become quite apparent that I have the immune system of a premature infant from a 3rd world country, as I have fallen ill for the second time in 3 weeks.  I'm on the mend, but for the last 5 days, I have been incapacitated.  I have only been punched in the face once (when I was 6, by a young boy named Phillip, on the playground of a Unitarian church in Houston, TX) and I can tell you, the flu feels something like that.  Without the shame.

Being sick is one of the few times I wish I had a boyfriend.  On a day-to-day basis, singlehood rocks, but when I'm under the weather, it would be nice to have someone fetch me a stack of fashion magazines.  Or tell me I'm still pretty from across the room, lest he get sick.  I'd really appreciate it if he'd buy me expensive soup from M Cafe during his lunch hour.  Sigh.

There's no more time for sulking, as I'm about to jump on a plane headed for Texas.  That's right cowboys and cowgals, I'm off to the Lone Star State.  Dallas and Austin, to be exact.  Christmas without Houston sounds mighty fine to me.

In the olden days, traveling homebound meant a guaranteed hook-up.  Now there's a 50/50 chance.  So who knows?  Dallas is uncharted territory for me, but I'm hanging with family.  The fun thing about Texas is that anything can happen.  So saddle up Dallasites!  I packed my leather skirt.

Then there's Austin.  I get to visit my dad and two of my favorite people: The Angel Sisters.  That's their real last name.  Only in Texas.  I haven't hooked-up with a guy in Austin since college, but it's a good time no matter what.

Merry Christmas to you Jesus freaks and people who have nothing else to celebrate.
Happy Hanukkah to the chosen ones.
Go Kwanzaa to the 8 of you that celebrate that.

Thursday, December 15, 2011

Date 21

For the first time in a long time, I was actually excited to go on a date.  According to his profile, Teacher was attractive and intelligent.  According to our conversation on the phone, he was somewhat normal.  I tried on 7 different outfits before I walked out the door.  This is not normal for me.

Teacher was kind enough to come to my side of town.  He said the traffic was horrendous, so I arrived at the agreed location before he did.  When he walked in, I was surprised by his height.  Very tall.  He was, indeed, very attractive with salt and pepper hair.  Adorable.

Teacher and I chatted about the pros and cons of teaching at a private school, camping (bleck), cooking (eh), our favorite restaurants (he hates all of mine), and how he thinks Harry Potter is the lowest form of literature.  I decided this would not be a good time to mention my Us Weekly habit.

It was obvious that Teacher and I would not be picking out China patterns together, but I had a nice time with him.  He's extremely bright, and I enjoyed listening to him banter about things from his high brow perspective.  There was never a lull in conversation, and I caught him checking out my legs, which is always fun.

But the most interesting part of the date was when I realized that if my sister was single and lived in LA, this man would be for her.  I was on a date with my sister's west coast boyfriend, and it was weird.

Not that it matters, but I had 2 Pinot Grigios, and Teacher had 14 glasses of water.  I paid for my indulgences when he went to the bathroom.  I'm pretty sure he appreciated it.  So there's that.

Here we are again.  No perspective suitors.  Wait, I take that back.  A few people do want to set me up, but set-up dates take forever to execute.  I fear we've hit the holiday slow down.

Monday, December 12, 2011

A Change of Plans

The party was a smashing success.  We had at least 100 people in and out of these doors, everyone oohed and aahed over our house, and 5 girls told me I looked skinny.  Success.  Fun was had by all, and I didn't make any poor decisions.  Best.  Party.  Ever.

Although the night was magical, I was over served which caused slow movement the next day.  I really am excited to go out with Teacher, as he seems somewhat normal, but under yesterday's circumstances, the thought of getting dolled up and walking down the street to meet him, at 8:30 mind you, felt equivalent to giving birth the natural way.  No epidural.  And you don't know the father of the baby.  More painful than THAT.

Long story short (It's actually not that long, just not interesting.), we rescheduled for Wednesday.  I am completely booked for the rest of the week.  NO nights off.  Popularity is hard.

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Next Date Planned

Teacher and I finally caught up with one another.  As I informed Sash about all of the things that were wrong with the Christmas decorating that he spent the whole day doing, Teacher called.  I excused myself for fear of missing this man forever, and I'm sure Sash was happy to see me go.

Y'all, his voice is not that bad.  On my voicemail, he sounded so official.  Now he sounded relaxed and funny.  Thank God!  Anyway, I think we already have an inside joke, and we're meeting for a drink tomorrow night.

Here's the caveat.  My 2nd annual crazy, off-the-chain Christmas party is tonight.  Last year I had to turn down an ex-boyfriend that wanted to sleep with me before he headed out of town the next day to leave LA forever.  Exciting stuff, no?  So as you can see, ANYTHING could happen.

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Date 20

As I was putting money in a meter at a local coffee shop, I thought, "Why in the hell am I doing this to myself?"  It's tough going on these dates.  It takes energy.  And if I were actually looking for a man, I'd probably have more drive.  But I made this bed, and off I was to lie in it.

Ernest was already sitting outside as I approached.  He's a broad African American fellow.  Not fat.  Broad.  He towered over me and gave me a big ole bear hug.  I'm not much of a hugger, so as I pulled away, I realized the hug was not over, according to Ernest.  This is always fun for me.

One thing that impressed me about Ernest was that he had not yet purchased his beverage.  He was waiting for me so he could buy mine as well.  Point for Ernest.  He then came back with a cookie and demanded me to eat half of it.  A food pusher.  Point taken away.

Ernest is an intelligent fellow.  How do I know this?  1)  He was the first man on who understood subject/verb agreement.  2)  He kept up with me and contributed to the conversation.  3)  He told me so more than once.

Ernest talks loudly.  Sweetheart, but a loud one.  I kept answering all of his questions in a whisper, hoping he'd imitate me at some point, but no.  The good news is that everyone at The Coffee Bean knows what he does for a living.

Back-and-forth, back-and-forth, the details are not important, but Ernest is an aggressive fellow.  Not Lifetime movie aggressive, but he puts it on the table quite quickly.  He told me more than once that I was beautiful, which is sweet.  However, I have to say that too many accolades make me uncomfortable.  What am I supposed to say?  "You too?"  He also said that I was prettier than my picture, which I've heard before.  This makes me think I take crappy pictures.

Towards the end of the evening, Ernest asked if he could see me again because he wasn't "looking for friends.  That's what Facebook is for."  Ugh.  I don't like the end of the date pop quiz.  I need to go home and marinate.  I need more of a dance.  Why must I answer this question RIGHT NOW?

The best part is what he wanted to do on the second date.  Horseback riding.  You read that correctly.  Two hours, in the daylight, no libation (again!), on a horse.  I told him that I'd have to think about that as I was thrown off a horse as a kid and horseback riding did not seem like the kind of thing I'd be up for on a 2nd date.  Of course, this later made me giggle when I was re-hashing the night with Sash.  What if I did that with every date I was asked on?  "Coffee?  Can't.  My mother was brutally scalded with coffee when I was in high school.  I could not bare to be in a coffee house.  You understand."

In other news, Teacher and I are like 2 ships passing in the night.  I texted him whilst at work that I had received his message.  He texted me before my date to ask if we could talk.  I text back that I was meeting a friend and asked if I could call afterward.  He said yes, but he may be out at some point.  I called after my coffee date and Teacher didn't answer.

And so we wait.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Back on the Train

I know I've been "too busy" to date.  I've also been too disinterested and that doesn't pair well with busy.  However, I have decided to rip this band-aid off quickly, and rip it I have.

Just to give you some backstory, we are in the midst of a Mercury Retrograde.  I know.  It's a bit much, but one should never start something during a Mercury Retrograde as it's doomed to fail.  If you ask me, this is a perfect time to date men that I'm not all that interested in in the first place.  So, here we go.

1)  Tonight I have a coffee date with Ernest.  Do you remember him?  He was the first man from that could form a complete sentence?  It doesn't really matter, the bottom line is I'll hit 20 tonight because we all know what a coffee date during a retrograde produces.  Bupkis.

2)  Introducing Frenchie.  Yes, another Frenchman.  I can't help myself.  I gave him my phone number because I'm deleting my profile (it really is too much), and he left a message last night.  Y'all.  The accent is INSANE.  Like plug your free ear while clutching the telephone to the other and making a funny face insane.  All I'm saying is that I think I've found a free French tutor.

3)  And then there's teacher.  Dreamy teacher.  He finally messaged me back after a bit of a hiatus.  He blamed it on a 4 day food poisoning incident.  I find this to be a bit suspicious.  Four days down due to spoiled food?  What did he eat?  Fecal matter?  Whatever.  He called too, and it went to voicemail.  His voice doesn't match his look, but one shouldn't ask for too much during a retrograde.

Regulars, do you know what's happening here?  I'm hoping to hit 22 dates before Christmas (or Hanukkah or Kwanza).  It also means there's only another 7 more months of this blog.  Get it while you can.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Angry Man

This grammarian has been messaging me incessantly.  I have not responded because I'm far from interested.  He finally wrote, "im messing you but dont respond!"  As a junior high English teacher, I quickly decoded it as "I'm messaging you but you don't respond."  I then decided to take care of this by saying, "Thank you, but I don't feel we're a match."  I got this in return:

why do girls automatically think just cuz i mesg a woman it means i wana hook up or i wana be in a relationship with you! we dont even know each other. where im from you got to get to know a person and become friends then you can decide the faith of that friendship. my last meag to you was just refering to ur silly quote on ur profile. im not here for a relationship. i have two wounderful boys that are my life and i dont need to bring in a woman in our life ritenow and take away their attention! im just here to find the cool peeps in this world and be social. good luck trying to find a mate on this pof site cuz what do think gonna happen when you find a man on here, he's gonna close his profile and spot fishing! i think not! all im saying internet is not and i mean absolutely not the place to find a mate. have a wounderful day......

I am now intrigued, obviously.  By the by, can we all agree that an ellipses has 3 ...?

Hello Lover

In today's favorite message we have Sexual Chocolate.  He writes:


Because I didn't answer within an hour, I later received this:

I won't bitr! :). Can we chat? I like ur smile

I find it to be interesting that this man feels the need to tell me that he won't bite on two occasions.  I hope you won't bite, Sexual Chocolate, because that is called assault.  Or consensual sex.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

These Men Exist

OK everyone.  It's time to play the game "What In Their Right Minds Made Them Send This?"

I'm going to call out this dating site and its pathetic lack of even below average men.  If you don't want to hate the human race, DO NOT JOIN PLENTY OF FISH (    Here are a few examples of what I get to read on a daily basis:

1)  Would you like to have dinner at The Cheesecake Factory in the Americana? (:  (This is wrong for so many reasons.)
2)  hi,you would like to go for dinner  (I detest controlling men.  BTW, his default pic is of him and a hefty belly dancer.)
3)  please dont trip!....but ur so hot i'd suck a fart out of your ass n hold it in like a bong rip !!!!ahhhhhhhhhhhh sorry im trying!lol im just genuine!  (Obviously, my personal fave.  And HIS default pic is of a motorcycle.  That's it.)

I mean, I could go on and on.  And I would if I had started writing these down awhile back.  Oops.

There is one diamond in the rough.  Meet Teacher.  He's a teacher.  I'm a teacher, and I gotta say, I don't know if I could date one, but this is his occupation.

He's ADORABLE in his pics, he knows the difference between your and you're, NO motorcycles in any of his pictures (VERY rare on pof), and he just seems lovely.  However, he takes DAYS to write back.  Doesn't he know I have a blog to do?

Monday, November 28, 2011

Home Again, Home Again

San Francisco was a smashing success.  Here are a few things I observed in The City by the Bay:

1.  There are a lot of homeless people.
2.  Women in SF don't seem to fancy nail polish.
3.  I'm just as surprised as you are to find out that I am NOT invisible in Frisco.  One man, bearing 9 of the 14 signs of a serial killer, stared at me too long at the Hyatt.  It was uncomfortable.  But I still got it, ladies and gentlemen.
4.  The beds at the Marriott beat those at the Hyatt, but the Hyatt has balconies and superior concierge lounges.
5.  Napa really is a day trip, but if you have to stay, DO NOT book the Marriott.  The beds aren't worth it.
6.  The cabbies are cool.
7.  People are nice.
8.  It's nothing like LA.

I enjoyed my time with B in SF.  It's a fun little town.  But I gotta say, it feels great to be home, where I can wear my chipped nail polish with pride whilst revealing my bra as part of my outfit.  LOVE YOU LOS ANGELES.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Open your Golden Gate

Today, B and I are off to beautiful San Francisco with a short jaunt to Napa.  We have promised each other a relaxing Thanksgiving filled with rest, shopping, and starving ourselves.  I'm not sure how long the starving part will last, as B and I can get quite gluttonous together.  I just need to remember that I want to look underfed for my Christmas party in a couple of weeks.

The good news is, I should lose a couple of lbs. on the plane.  I have a cruel fear of flying.  I've been able to rodeo it in as of late, but I still get the fear of God in me when we hit turbulence.  Like spill my champagne and B's champagne all over him scared.

So listen up.  The truth is the truth, and the truth is this:  a)  It's a holiday weekend.  People are dispersed.  b)  Dudes in SF don't look at me sideways because either 1) they're gay or 2) I don't fit the demographic.  What I'm trying to say here is, I don't think there will be dating action on this vacay.

In Paris, I was the bee's knees.  Men were on me like stink on animal skat.  I am invisible in SF.  I'm just not their type of lady.  I don't wear button ups with pearls.  I don't frequent J. Crew (yet some pieces are quite nice).  I don't own that much fleece.  If I could get away with exposing my whole back on a day-to-day basis, I would.  Different styles.

BUT, I'm excited to go to that quirky little town in central California.  (It's not as up north as one might think.)  I'm also excited to have B time because I love him and I miss him.  Too bad my gay dates can't count.  We would have had this thing wound up in 15 days flat.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Meeting of the Minds

I was talking to B and NYC last night about my time and how precious it is.  I've explained this before, but to reiterate, now that I'm working full time, I don't have time to date men.  If I REALLY liked someone, I'd make time, but dating chumps can't happen with a full-time gig.  I still need to do stand-up and hang with my people.

B agreed with me and asked why I felt I needed to end the blog so quickly.  (Regulars, stop laughing.  I know I've been at it since July.  Fine, late June, whatever.)

I'm going to stop beating myself up.  If I don't want to waste my precious time on someone, then I'm not.  I'm just going to make fun of their profiles and back and forths with me.  I think we can all agree that that's OK.  I'll keep writing, you keep reading, and we'll eventually get through this together.  And who knows.  Maybe you'll be around for when I truly fall in love.  (OK, again Regulars, stop laughing.)

I'd also like to give a shout out to France.  We have some Regulars out there somewhere.  It took you long enough, but welcome.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Date 19.25 and 19.5

I know a massage is not an official date, but these people get further with me than most of the men I agree to meet.

I have been stressed out at work, so when I had my nails done yesterday, I asked for a back massage.  A mini-massage, if you will.  The lithe man that worked on my toes had the honors, and he worked me over.  There were moments when I thought, "So this is what it would feel like to die at the hands of a man."  The upper body strength is indescribable.  How did men get made this way?  I'm positive that I could not fit into this man's jeans, yet I felt he could snap my collarbone in 17 places in no time flat.  It hurt.

Today, B suggested we go to foot spa.  The full body rub down.  I was worried I'd relive a pseudo homicide by a woman-hating maniac.  To my surprise, I was given a female masseuse.

Completely different experience.  She was like a butterfly, so gentle and soft.  It was nurturing, yet firm.  Only the way a woman can do it.  I never had to squint my eyes in pain, breathe through my mouth, or make that embarrassing involuntary grunt.  Besides the old man in the corner moaning, "Oh yeah.  Oh yeah," it was a delightful experience.

So I am officially announcing that I am a massage lesbian.  And I am proud of that.  Female massage therapists are the new OBGYNs.  They used to be preferred, but now they're a necessity.

Manners Matter

Dear God, or Universe, or Creator, or WHATEVER YOU WANT TO BE CALLED!!!!

I don't ask for much.  I really don't.  I live a humble(ish) life, I put forth a great effort to treat those that deserve it with respect, and kids love me.  All I want is a DECENT MAN IN HIS 30s TO ASK ME OUT.

No more 20 year olds and certainly no more men in their 50s.  I cannot.  I just cannot.  30s PLEASE.  JUST ONE.  SO I CAN STOP BEING SO CYNICAL.

And cynical I am.  Always have been, really.  Even as a child I remember my mother saying, "You're too young to be so cynical."  I thought it gave me street cred.  Now I just find it to be annoying.

Then last night, something magical happened.  Turn up the fire, snuggle up with a cozy blanket, and let me tell you a story.

Yesterday evening, I hung with my Israeli friend.  We laugh a lot together and he's more cynical than I am.  He reminded me that he thinks I will die alone, childless.  I kind of agree with him.

I saunter back home, thinking I should get to bed and wake-up early for Cardio Barre.  If I'm going to be alone forever, I should look fabulous.

I am greeted by my housemate, B, and his NEW boyfriend.  Let's call him NYC.  They were popping open a bottle of champagne.  I complain because champagne is my kryptonite, and I promised myself I would get up early for Cardio Barre.  NYC instantly calls me skinny.  Falling in love...

THEN he tells me to wait and runs off for a small box, wrapped in silver paper, with a blue bow on top.  A gift.  For me.  The lady of the manor.  The gift: a bracelet

This is the way it's supposed to be.  We call this act well-mannered.  Taught correctly.  Good parenting.  I could go on and on.

Everyone reading this post:  According to my Israeli friend, there is a very good chance that I will never reproduce.  PLEASE teach YOUR children to be well-mannered like NYC.  What a wonderful world this could be.

Saturday, November 19, 2011

The Search is Over

I just received this from a man who looks like this:

what a man would say to a woman like you

if I was lost in the sky
With only one wing left to fly on
My wing would be you
If I were crawling from a wreck
With only a dim light to guide me
That light would be you
If I were forsaken by the gods
And dropped into an island
You would be that island
If the only fragile step
On the path looked hopeless
I would go for that step
I've got a feeling I will be the one
Who will survive through all this pain
I'd die for you
I have torn away a piece of the sky
That didn't seal out the eternal
I'd die for you
If words leave traces
I will tattoo my skin
With the words we haven't said
Nothing will wipe you out
I will guard against the pain
Even if that's all that remains
People will say with beautiful words
That nothing is worth anything
Still this nothing is all mine
What good would it do me
To find my destiny
If it doesn't lead to you?

i'm french my name is Mo big kissss :)

FINALLY.  I've found my Frenchman.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

People Are Strange

Because I think it's hilarious to procrastinate, I delayed deleting my account on that site where guys pay you to go on a date.  You know, the definition of escorting?

Anyway, some knob offered me $30 to go on a date with him AND he's from San Clemente.  I don't need to explain any further why that is an automatic rejection.  Reason:  Bid too low

Then he IMMEDIATELY came back with $60.  Rejection.  Reason:  Not my type (But between you and me, the bid was still too low.)  Instant new bid at $100.  Rejection but it's getting fun now and I'm intrigued.  Reason:  Not my type

New bid at $101.  That made me laugh.  You can't communicate with these guys unless you accept the bid, so I accept.  I message:  You are persistent.

He starts in with accolades about my picture and my awesome profile.  (It's pretty unconventional and rad.)  He wants to text, so I give him my number.

This is where it all goes downhill.  First he sends me a video taken from his phone of some rock concert.  I ask, "What is that?" and his response is, "Steel panther last night at house of blues!"  I instantly think, I don't give a DAMN.  Oh did I mention earlier he asked about a good place to grab a late breakfast, and I'm already halfway done teaching Block C?

Then I get this (and I detest this):  What are you up to now?  Send me a pic of you!

I don't know what all of the youngsters are up to these days, but sending a picture of myself to a stranger seems tacky, naive, and downright dangerous.

I respond:  Not a big fan of sending pics to people I haven't met yet.  One step at a time.

Ladies and gentleman, I am no prude but if there is one thing I believe in, it's manners.  Manners change from region to region and culture to culture.  This man and I are not from the same region nor the same culture.

His response:  Well for the record we agreed to meet and I spent 6.75$ to message you!  And I have 3 pics on my profile and you have one from far away (not true).  Let's be fair here.

My response:  Uh oh.  I don't think we're going to get along.

He thought my response was hilarious, but I was obviously done.  He sent a few weird pictures and then realized I wasn't interested.  Who raised this man?

On a higher note, Earnest has asked me out and we're trying to meet before I go to San Francisco next Wednesday.  We're having a difficult time matching schedules.  Yes.  I'm really that busy.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Post Birthday Ramblings

The birthday weekend was a smashing success.  Amy and Ash took me to this adorable speakeasy called Next Door Lounge for dinner and drinks.  It's fabulous and I highly recommend it to LA people looking for something different.

After the crowd turned a bit too night-timey for us, we moved it to one of my favorite watering holes where I was greeted by more friends.  Drinks all around, a happy birthday tune with a candle, a quick jaunt to my dentist's home for video game dancing, and a cab home for good measure.  TOTALLY normal birthday for a gal in her 30s.

Because I was busy with my day-of-birth ritual, I did not keep up with my suitors on the site.  At my old site, this was social suicide.  At the new site, one will be berated and begged for attention.  There were a slew of messages along the lines of, "What have I done wrong?" "Have you forgotten about me?" "I promise I'm a good guy, just let me take you out!"  FRIGHTENING.

There's only one thing I want a man to beg for, and it's not appropriate to write here for the world to see.

There is one man that seems decent.  We'll call him Earnest.  His name actually is Earnest, but it's such a fabulous name that I have to use it as his alias too.  Earnest understands subject/verb agreement, has a real job, no pics with motorcycles in them, and he is familiar with Oscar Wilde's play The Importance of Being Earnest.  (Obviously he has an unfair advantage, as his name is Earnest, BUT STILL.)

At the moment, he and I are just corresponding.  As a lady, I feel I should wait for him to ask me out.  I mean, his name is Earnest for Christ's sake.  Gotta kick it old school.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Happy Birthday Me

First, I'd like to address the fact that it is my birthday weekend.  Since it falls on a Sunday, the girls are taking me out to dinner tonight.  Then we're going to cat around town with a larger crowd and see where the evening takes us.  I hope I meet a decent fellow that I can go on a few dates with because the new site is HORRENDOUS.

If I were given only one adjective to describe this site, it would be ugh.  Here is a short list of what's going on over there:

1)  Nine tenths of my suitors use your/you're incorrectly, so that's fun for me.
2)  I am flattered that older men find me to be attractive, but I have a dad who has been there for me my whole life, so I don't need them.  Being daddy-issue-free really limits your choices in this pond.
3)  One suitor's subject line:  You should be a model!!!
4)  Gotta love messages like this: 

I want to treat you with respect and I know I may not be worthy to touch u but I could serve u i would obey you and accept any and all punishments you decide If I don't please you. 
 I think men were put here to please women our purpose is to protect provided and obey women I would love to serve you. If you have never had a man put your wishes wants hopes and demands first please allow me to show you how you should be treated i love to meet you
(Let's not even discuss the grammar.)

5)  For whatever reason, the guys are SUPER aggressive on this site.  It actually kind of scares me.

Luckily, I have combed out a couple of men who can complete a sentence correctly.  At this rate, it doesn't matter  if I'm attracted to them.  If they can conjugate verbs, they're in.

I'm leaving the "pay for a date" site.  I read into it a little more, and they say to ask for 1/2 of the money up front and the other 1/2 at the end of the date.  This is absurd.  Call me old fashioned, but I'm going to date guys the way one should.  Dreading it for hours on end, drinking a beverage you don't want to be drinking, with a man you don't want to be drinking with, and walking away empty handed and soulless.

Happy birthday to me.

Thursday, November 10, 2011


Some guy just offered me $100 to go on a date with him.  What in the hell is this $60 beefcake thinking?  I'm done with him.  It's $100 or bust Regulars!

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Forgotten Moments

I had forgotten how awful Internet dating was.  And this new site IS THE WORST.  Hooking up with exes is like staying at the Four Seasons compared to the Motel 6 crap I'm putting up with right now.  Seriously, not even a Red Lion.  This is straight up unacceptable.  Have I already tentatively booked 2 dates with extremely unacceptable men?  Yes.  And it's killing me.

But my favorite story to tell is about this other site that I have joined.  It was suggested to me by a friend.  Apparently, these guys have to prove that they are invested in you and pay you to go on a date with them.  Is it an escort service?  Apparently no, because I'm not touching him for $60.  Yup.  He offered me $60.  And I get a free dinner out of it.  Or a drink.  I don't know, but I have found out a way to make money at this gig, and that's a silver lining.  Unfortunately, he's a beefcake.  Muscles, shaved body, bandana tied around his head, etc.  Oh, and did I mention that he's paying me to date him?  Wait.  This doesn't feel right.  Let me rethink.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Transferring Schools

I quit the original dating site I joined when this experiment first began.  I was looking pathetic.  Like those girls that don't go to college and keep hanging out with HS kids pathetic.  It was time to leave...

And be the HOT NEW GIRL ON THE BLOCK on another disappointing site.  This site is where the misfits hang.  It's pretty gross.  But I need to shake it up, as the Regulars know, so let's see what happens. Although I think I know what happens.

As I write this post, my computer keeps bleeping so unsubstantial men can chat with me.  I'm telling ya, it's always the new girl.  This is why switching high schools mid-year is such a great idea.  It fixes your self-confidence.  Woohoo!

I've already communicated with 3 Asians, a Middle Eastern, and 2 men above 40.  I think I'm going to like it here.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Date 19

I had to wake up to go to iPad training at school, so Texas Ex drove me there so he could explore.  He picked me up a few hours later, and we went to sushi for a late lunch.

Afternoon sake never hurt anyone going through an extreme dating weekend, so Texas Ex and I indulged.  We had an intense conversation about ghosts of relationships past.  He told me a few stories about exes that make me think bitches be crazy.  I told him a few that made him think I have awful taste in men.

To end the evening, and our visit, we watched some of those awful shows that feature some poor, unsuspecting girl being abducted, raped, and probably murdered, but they never found the body.  You know, the uplifting stuff.  I don't know why we like it, but we do.

The next day, I went to work, and Texas Ex caught a ride to the airport with one of my roomies.  The weekend was over.  Done.  The end.

What did I learn from all of this, you ask?  First, I learned that Texas Ex and I will always think fondly of one another.  Secondly, I have realized that I cannot live with a man in such close quarters.  I'm too used to being alone.  They said it would happen to me, but I didn't believe them.  They were right.

Dear future husband,

If you actually exist, I hope it's cool that we either live in a duplex or a house with wings.  I love you, but in order to keep that love alive, I need my space.  I also need dry bathroom floors, a somewhat clear coffee table, and as little talking as possible during important parts of television shows.



Date 18

As I was never alone, I have to recall the past couple of dates from memory.  It may be sketchy, but here's the Reader's Digest version.

Texas Ex and I woke up late, as we both had tummy aches for a good portion of the night/morning.  After we pulled ourselves together, we did what anyone would do after a rough evening due to rich food.  We went to brunch and drank Bloody Marys.  It was good.

We attended a friend's pumping carving contest early in the evening where, ironically, no pumpkins were carved.  Instead, everyone gathered around the television to watch a mini American Horror Story marathon.  If you are not watching this show, GET TO IT.  I know, I know.  I detest scary stuff too, but it's not scary as much as it's suspenseful.  Figuring out who in the hell is a ghost will keep you busy for a while.

We ate chili, drank Prosecco, laughed with the gang, and then went home.  There were a bevy of gays in costume at my house when we arrived.  My roomie was dressed in drag.  Just another Sunday in these parts.

Monday, October 31, 2011

Date 17

It's nice having a boyfriend for a weekend, but why are boys so dirty?  Or perhaps I should say messy.  I fear if I ever were to get married, my life would turn into a series of "Why is this here?" or "Why is this wet?" or "Why are the bath mats kicked to the corners of the bathroom?"

However, we're having a blast.  We slept in late on Saturday and watched Project Runway.  (My decision.  Not his.)  Later, we drove to Silver Lake and had mexican food and margaritas.  The place was empty.  Our bartender, Fred, was awesome.

We came home and watched Celebrity Ghost Stories.  (We agreed on this one.)  It didn't take long to start in on our own ghost experiences.  He told me a story that would make your toes curl.

We were going to go to a costume party, but decided to go to dinner with my roomies instead.  It was a decedant meal at  an upscale restaurant down the street.  Texas Ex and I later had tummy aches from the rich food, but it was worth it.

After dinner, we went home, hung out on the side porch, and wrote an abbreviated version of a musical about serial killers.  Seriously, it could have been a perfect day for me.  Margaritas in the afternoon, champagne in the evening, and creativity in the dead of night.  Perfection!

Saturday, October 29, 2011

Date 16

I don't have a lot of time.  This must be quick.

Texas Ex landed in LA on time.  I was still at work, so he went to a local Coffee Bean.  I picked him up there.  He was supposed to get a rental, but his wallet was stolen last week (whilst in court, ironically).  Apparently, you can't rent a car with a passport.  Seems logical to me, but he stood in line and waited to hear that from the horse's mouth.

Ex boyfriends are the best because they're charted territory, and if you actually like the other person, it's a good time.  We laughed, drank, went to dinner, then to the local pub to meet the ladies.

Texas Ex holds his own with the girls.  Obvs.  He's a lawyer.  They can talk.  About anything.  And that he does well.

Listen, I don't know what else to say.  The night rocked, we took black and white photo booth pictures, he had three late night tacos (I did NOT.  That's for my trainer.), we walked home, and the rest is private.

Stay tuned for date 17.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Silver Lining

Do you want to hear what's so cool about having a blog?  My girl, Ash, texted:  Read your blog.  Does that mean you're free tonight?

I'm telling you, if you never want to be lonely, go out and get one of these things.


This just in:  Texas Ex couldn't tie up some loose ends at work and isn't coming in until tomorrow.  Still 1:30 pm Pacific time.  Re-syncronize watches please.

This is what it's like dating a lawyer, ladies.  It's always work, work, work.

Dum Dum Da Dah!

So listen.  I've already apologized for the lack of posts as of late, but I cannot stress enough how busy my life is right now.  I would say that men have taken a backseat to this life, but I have had run-ins with exes. No official dates, but the theme of October is "Ex Boyfriends."

Speaking of, Texas Ex lands in good ole Los Angeles, CA today at 1:30 pm.  Everybody synchronize their watches.  I adore Texas Ex, but let's face it.  This could be a great weekend, or he and I could go a few months without talking.  Luckily, we have vowed to be honest with each other, and if things get ugly, it's off to a local hotel for him.

We are couple dressing for Halloween, which is a treat for me.  I'm going as Lisa from Weird Science and he'll be Chet.  God, we're adorable.

In other news, there's this guy at the gym that I find to be attractive.  Every time I catch a glance, my heart skips a beat, and then I pan down.  He wears these.  I just cannot.

Friday, October 21, 2011

Remember Me?

First, I'd like to apologize for my absence, but I've been busier than a one-legged man in an ass kicking contest, and that's not an exaggeration.  Things are CAH-RAY-RAY at work and my after school "hobby" (what my Israeli friend likes to call my comedy career) has required more of my time.  That coupled with the fact that after the whole Open Marriage mishap, I just felt dirty.  I needed a break.

During that time, I ran into a couple of new suitors.  Meet NG.  Boring.  Excruciatingly boring.  Thus far at least.  Here's a snippet from his About Me:

I am pursuing a film career, so to be honest, I barely have time to pursue a relationship, and certainly no tolerance for drama or jealousy.

So it's pretty amazing that he's on a dating site.  I agreed to go out with him just to get to date16.  Then the back and forth about times.  He can only meet after 10 pm.  I'm not doing that for someone that I consider to be just a number.

And we've come to that.  Look at me.  I'm cynical.  Not that it's all that different than my normal self, but I feel so under the microscope with this blog.  I'll get over it.

I really want to introduce you to ARP.  ARP is 60 and finds me "to be wonderful."  ARP has a good eye, but so do I, and I will not be flirting it up with ARP.  Oh I'm sorry,  I forgot to tell you that he's a magician and also consults for magician TV shows.  Cherry.  On.  Top.

Are you ready for the twist, Regulars?  Today I get a message from Open Marriage.  I was shocked to receive it, to be honest.  On-line dating is a fickle lifestyle, my friends.  People move on.  He said he enjoyed our correspondence, he didn't feel as if that was one-sided, blah, blah, blah, and then asked if I would be interested in hanging platonically.

The "likes to see the good in all" part of me thinks that's sweet and ballsy.  The realist part of me thinks he's trying to get in from another angle.  I said I can't snub a platonic friend request but I'm busy for a bit (the truth).  Radio silence.  I think I know which part of me was correct.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Disappointing Myself and Others

Something happened this weekend that I have not written about.  In the grand scheme of things, it's really not that big of a deal, but I sweated over it a bit.  I put up a tough front here on 30dates, but the truth is, I'm pretty sensitive.  If you know me at all, you know that I don't like hurting people's feelings.

Open Marriage and I got into an interesting back-and-forth via the dating site's messaging system.  His situation fascinates me because, as a woman who can't find a man I'd even want to have coffee with, never mind marrying, alternative lifestyles pique my interest.

I asked Open Marriage what the rules were with his wife.  He corrected me by calling them guidelines, and listed a few.

1)  Be nice and respectful to everyone involved.  (This received a collective eye-roll from my girlfriends.)
2)  Sleep at home.

I think that's it.

Open Marriage and his wife had a monogamous relationship at first, but then they wanted to seek others as time went by.  At first, it was a feeding frenzy for the both of them, but then things cooled down a bit.  They recently moved to LA, and his wife acquired a boyfriend that she sees about once a week.  My guess is, Open Marriage wants to get in on the action since she is, and is starting the "dating" process for himself.

I thought, "What the hey?"  Why not go out with this dude, purely for research?  I wasn't attracted to him (Nothing against Michael Chiklis), so getting my heart broken was never a factor.  And Regulars, I know I said I wouldn't date a married man, but this was different.   I mean, the lady is on the game.  And winning, at this point.

We exchanged phone numbers, texted a bit, and decided to meet Sunday night.

Cut to Sunday lunch with the girls.  I tell them the above story.  I then confess that I really don't want to go on the date.  Clearly this man is looking for some physical action, and that's just not going to happen with me.  I just want to pick his brain.  My girlfriends then remind me that I've already done the research and that I should cancel and hang out with them for the remainder of the day.

Cancelling a date with a nice guy via text is not as glamourous as Hollywood would make you believe. I considered going on a mercy date, but then decided that that would not benefit either one of us.  I texted Open Marriage and told him I had second thoughts and that this situation was not for me.  He was disappointed, but cool as hell about it.  Dammit!  Why did he have to look like Michael Chiklis?  This could have been a way juicier entry.

In other news, I'm excited to see Texas Ex in a couple of weeks.  I'm friendly with most of my exes, but he and I are actually friends.  Plus, we're doing a "couples costume" for Halloween and I NEVER get to do that.

Friday, October 7, 2011

The Bright Side

Things are starting to get better.  I got to hang out with some great people last night, I took a mental health day today, and I look tan for some reason.  I hope I don't have carotenosis.

Things are also picking up on the ole dating website.  Let's do a breakdown.

Open Marriage and I are communicating, and I must say, he is quite verbose.  His emails are lengthy, and I just don't have it in me to reciprocate in the same manner.  He doesn't talk about his wife, and I suppose it's for the best, but I want the nitty-gritty on this open marriage thing.  Don't you?  I'll see what I can get out of him.

Introducing Baby.  Baby is 19 and lives in New York, so I'm pretty sure I found my guy.  Why does he have to live in New York?  Cruel world.  This was our exchange.

Baby: youre sexy
Me: You're 19 and in ny.
Baby: We can make this work
Me: How and why are you up? (It was 1 am)
Baby: How? You travel here and I become your young sexual slave.  I can't sleep because I've found your profile.
Me: Flattering. You have it down.
Baby: I'm partially serious. If you were to call me I'd forever keep you in my imagination. 347-555-5555
Me: So cute. I took a xanex so probably not tonight.
Baby: Then text me at least, you sexy beast. 

And then the Xanex took effect.

Introducing Philly.  He has a hairy chest.  Regulars know that I am a fan of this, but Philly is different.  His chest hair is straight.  Long and straight.  So odd.  I've never seen such a thing.  I told him I liked it nonetheless.

I am currently IMing with another new suitor.  We will call him The Gent.  He loves to use lol and ends a third of his sentences with prepositions.  My eyes are bleeding.

All of my more tradition suitors have left me, without a care.  I really thought Sober Guy and I had something going.  And French Victor?  Pourquoi?

Thursday, October 6, 2011

Crappy Week

It's been a rough week for me.  Challenging, one might say.  You know the kind.  Things just aren't going your way.  We've all had them.  Everyone knows what you have to do when weeks like these happen.  GET BUSY.

Introducing Open Marriage.  He's in one.  He sent me an obscure line from one of my favorite movies, so I was intrigued.  He seems ridiculously intelligent and looks like Michael Chiklis.  In his profile, he stated that he's not anti-monogamy, he just thinks lifetime monogamy isn't "necessary or desirable."

I'm curious.  I have no desire to date a married man, even if his wife is catting around town also, but I want to find out more about this fellow.  I love research.  Plus, he's a huge fan of San Francisco.  His kind always fascinate me.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Post Party Ramblings

Funny how one can go from full on gangsta to adorable spinster in two point two seconds.  Ever since the  party, it has been radio silence, from all of my suitors.  French Victor texted on Saturday to ask how long the party would be going, and I said late, then waddled upstairs to pass out at 2 am.  I fear he came, saw a bevy of drag queens singing in 17 part harmony around the piano, and took off.  Well then he's NOT for ME.

Thankfully, ExBFname hasn't contacted me.  He probably found me to be too subtle and quiet.  Actually, I have a tendency to mimic others, so maybe he's telling his buddies that I'm loud and obnoxious.  That thought just made my day.

I'm assuming I'll hear from Sober Guy as the weekend approaches, but one never knows with this game.

The good news is, I did end up spending most of my Saturday evening with a foreign hairy guy, but he is also one of my besties.  The thought of touching him conjures up memories of excerpts from Flowers in the Attic.

So the saga continues.  Stay with me people.  I can't do this alone.

Saturday, October 1, 2011

Date 15

Wow.  Last night was a bit exhausting.  In the early stages of our relationship, ExBFname told me that dating a comedian could be hard because he is used to being the funny one.  This is always a red flag.  REALLY funny people usually don't say that, but we all know that I'm making exceptions these days.

As I approached the local eatery, I saw a thin-framed man leaning against the wall.  I called out, "Are you ExBFname?"  His response:  "I hope so because I'm wearing his underwear."  Here we go.

We sidle up to the bar, and the bartender recognizes me.  I'm not sure if this is a good thing, or confirms that I spend too much money on the juice.  ExBFname starts filling me in on his life, and then I realize what the voice thing is all about.  He's in radio.  He's been a morning disc jockey and BOY does he talk like one.  And he has fascial expressions to match, so everything is big, big, big.  It was like watching an Off Broadway play whilst sitting on the stage.  BIG.  And loud.

I had 2 Proseccos and he had a glass of red wine.  Oh you guys, I wish you could have seen him try the wine.  The swirl, the looking at the legs, the nose in the glass, the sip.  But remember, BIG.  I suggested we leave because he needed to be up at 6am so he could "be on the top of the mountain as the sun rises."  Yup.  Can't make this stuff up.

Well, y'all know me.  I had an ulterior motive and walked to the local pub down the street to meet the girls.  We eventually decided to change locations, and on the way out,  I meet Victor.  French Victor at that.  He had a bush of curly hair on his head that I instantly wanted to pet.  But I didn't.  I gave him my number.  He's already texted.  I smell a French date on the horizon.

Tonight is the big shin dig and I fear I may be dateless.  Neighbor is scared of me, Sober Guy has to work (but assured me he wants meet soon), and ExBFname is a no go.  That must mean something unexpected will happen tonight.  Please make him foreign and hairy.  Amen.

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Rosh Hashana Phone Call

I was expecting no activity until tomorrow, but apparently, ExBFname likes to talk on the phone.  Ugh.  I was just about to jump into the shower and was running late, so the timing wasn't impeccable.  I did indulge him for a few, however.

ExBFname had a long trek home from work and thought that I could entertain him during his commute.  Here's how I feel about this.  Unless you and I seamlessly banter back and forth with explosions of laughter and an occasional, "No she/he didn't," then I just don't have the energy for it.  But I did it nonetheless.

He seems like a very nice man.  But you guys, I cannot shake his voice.  It reminds me of the Christian dad in The Simpsons.  The "okely dokely" guy.  It almost feels like a joke.  The voice is obnoxiously too vanilla.  Like a perfect American apple pie,  Beaver Cleaver guy who probably chops up women in his basement and is constructing a human skin bodysuit as we speak.  Oh God.  I've just scared myself.

At this moment, I'd like everyone to know, should I go missing, all of these dude's information can be accessed on my iPad.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011


I think it's probably quite obvious that I did not go out with ExBFname on Monday.  He just couldn't cancel plans with his best friend.  Can you believe this guy?  Instead, I went to bestie Amy's house and played with her kitten.  Yup.  Single.  In my thirties.  Living with two gay guys.  In an attic.  Playing with kittens.  These are all facts.

Not to fret.  ExBFname and I are meeting on Friday.  My roommates are having a party on Saturday.  If I dig ExBFname, I could invite him and hit date 16, just like that.


I was contacted by an old flame yesterday.  It was more like a flicker, actually.  I went ahead and invited him, so if he shows up and I'm still into it, DATE 16!  Who is this mysterious fellow, you ask?

Introducing Sober Guy.  He's sober.  Stop rolling your eyes, it's not like I'm going to marry him.  But I gotta tell ya, there's something sexy about him.  We dated for a very short stint after I ended a relationship.  We lost contact quickly, but I've always wondered what he was up to.  Could be fun.  Or he may not show so ultimately, whatevs.

I invited Neighbor as well.  I know, I'm really going for it you guys.  He responded two days later with, "I might be gone on saturday night... How's it going?"  Tardy response and misuse of the ellipses?  Pfft.

And last but not least, it is a for sure go on Texas Ex coming to visit Halloween weekend.  This will be a fun weekend.

OK y'all.  Unless some breaking news comes forth, it's lights out until Friday night.

Monday, September 26, 2011

Back in the Saddle

I know I haven't been going out on dates lately, but life got busy.  I swear.  I decided I needed to cultivate the experiment, so I have met a new beau.

Meet ExBFname.  He has the name of an ex.  I met him on the old site, and we just got off of the phone with one another.  He has an effeminate voice, but seems nice.

ExBFname called me earlier in the week, and I forgot to call him back.  I finally did and got his voicemail.  He called me back a few hours later.  He immediately wanted me to know that he is not one of those fellows who will drop a girl if she doesn't return a call right away.  I acknowledged that I had noticed that men are doing that now, and he said that he's learned a lot about men's weird rules as of late.  So much, in fact, that he thinks he should write a book.  Dammit, I'm just writing a blog, and he's going to get paid millions for his book.  Ugh.

Whatever, at least ExBFname and I have something in common.  He's trying to clear plans so we can meet tonight, but if not, we may have to wait until Friday.  We've waited this long to get to the 1/2 way mark.  What's a few more days going to do to us?

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Logger Reunion

Regulars, sit down.  Or stand up.  It's not that exciting.  You know what?  Squat.  We do have a LITTLE action.  Today, Logger and I came face to face.

Picture it.  I'm at the gym.  I've been stressed for weeks, so I'm riding that skinnier-than-usual wave.  I forgot my hair tie, and I had it done last night, so it's flowing in the wind like a silk curtain.  Most importantly, I have on mascara.

I'm really giving my biceps a workout, when I look to my right, and in the reflection of the mirror, I see Logger.  Just doing a few pull-ups, you guys.

I see him first, so I'm prepared.  I catch his eye, flash my pearly whites, and wave.  He gets off the pull-up contraption and heads in for a hug.  He barely touches me, so I assume it's because he's sweaty, or he thinks I'm contagious.  I'm cool with either.

We make small talk.  He asks about Europe, we make a joke about Paris...  The whole time I feel like he can't get away fast enough.  I find it all to be so interesting.

Here's the thing.  I feel like I've shed all emotions from this dating thing, and now I'm just a scientist using herself as a subject.  My feelings are so far removed at this point, so everything a man does just makes me shrug and think, "Men are weird."

In other news, I finally found a Christian man in LA.  He is also African American.  I have never dated a black man, but am up for anything.  Within reason, of course.  The problem is, he doesn't write in complete sentences.  Also, I wish I could say that the grammar is questionable, but it's downright atrocious.  Nothing turns me off more.

Monday, September 19, 2011

Texas Wins

Don't get too excited.  No date for Ms. Dateless McPatheticson.

Remember how it was Shannon's goal to get me a date?  Well, you could parachute Shannon into a volcano filled with age appropriate single guys, and she would not be able to find me a date.  She could find herself one, though.  Little Ms. Shannon can get any guy in the world to start texting her.  I mean it.  Ladies, hide your kids, hide your husbands.  

As the weekend began, I did one of those half-ass joins on a Christian dating site.  To scope out the goods.  I have discovered something.  There are no Christian men in LA.  At least none that Internet date.  All of my Christian suitors live out of town.  

It got me to thinking.  These LA Christians probably don't use a dating site because they all meet at church.  That would require a day out of my week to really pull this off, right?  That will never happen.  

What I'm trying to say is, this blog will live forever.  This blog will die with me.  I will WILL this blog to someone else.  Will it go to another woman?  Ya know, maybe not.  A change of perspective could be what this thing needs.  After I die, of course.  

It should really blow your mind that this blog could be yours one day.  

Friday, September 16, 2011


Hi you guys.  I know.  I've been absent.  For quite some time, to be honest.  But I assure you, this is the only thing in my life that is stagnant.

Work is INSANE.  As you can imagine, the beginning of the year is a teacher's prolonged night terror.  Getting up early and having to put on make-up is THE WORST.  And don't give me that, "Then don't wear make-up" retort because I am a Texan woman, and that isn't even an option.

So here's what's up.  My friend, Shannon, is coming to town from Houston and we're going to the UT vs. UCLA game.  Old school style.  I'm talking party bus up to Pasadena, alcohol and toilet in the vehicle, people making out in the back...  Shannon set the whole thing up, OBVS.

It is Shannon's goal to find me a date this weekend, so she can make the blog.  Yes, I'm a pretty bad ass friend, because I just put her in the blog, so she doesn't have to dance for her meal.  But I know me some Shannon, and I'm guessing she'll try anyway.

I am going to delete my profile from my current dating website.  I need something new.  Something different.  I think I'm about to go all demographic on you guys.

If you're a regular, you know I have an affinity for foreign men.  It's a rather new fixation, so what if I could start diggin' on some other "type"?  Broaden my horizons, ya know?  So, without further adieu, I will join a Christian dating site and see what it's like to go on a date with a Christian man.  (Thank you for the idea, Jane.)  I am not Christian.  Nor am I affiliated with any organized religious organization.  I mean, sure, I went through that  Kabbalah phase, but I was young, sad, and searching for answers.

Now, I don't want to get into a war with any of Jesus' soldiers, so relax.  I'll be honest with my beliefs to my suitor.  I just want to see what the date would be like.  Will he pull out my chair?  Stand when I leave the table?  Will he go in for a kiss, or do we pray at the end?  Or at the beginning, for that matter?

And then maybe I'll date a Buddhist, or a Satanist.  Oooooo, a Wiccan!  I for sure need to go on a date with one of those dudes.

This will be fun.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Date 14

Last night was lovely.  Heathrow lives in my old neighborhood.  It's an adorable neighborhood, and I miss it a bit, so I suggested we hit up a classic pub I used to frequent.  Same bartenders.  Same crowd.  Felt like old times.

Heathrow is a laid back English chap.  He was sucking on a Jameson and a beer, when I wandered in.  He has a smashing English accent, and the conversation was as smooth as silk.  Heathrow's facial structure is likened to an ex boyfriend of mine, so every time I caught his profile, it made me giggle a bit.

Since Heathrow is a regular at this pub, many friends came by to say hello.  They were all foreign, so a plethora of interesting accents were thrown my way.  I absolutely loved it.  It was Disneyland for Europhiles.

I somehow got my girlfriends to agree to meet me at said establishment, so they were able to meet Heathrow.  He held his own with 3 female comics, and they approved of him.  He also paid for my drinks, which is half the battle, really.

I will probably see Heathrow again, especially since he told me I was sexy.  The ladies like a good sexy compliment, gentlemen.  Keep that one in your back pocket and don't overuse it, or we'll think you to be insincere.

In other news, my favorite ex is coming to visit me next month, so that's exciting.  A whole weekend together.  How many dates should that count for?

Friday, September 9, 2011

Modern Day Mishaps

I have good news and I have bad news.  The bad news is that Heathrow and I have to postpone our date tonight.  We're going to grab early evening drinks tomorrow, and then I have to run to previous plans.  It's actually quite nice to have an exit strategy.  I know me, and if he speaks Cockney, I'll only understand a 1/3 of what he's saying.

The good news is, I get to  go out with my girlfriends to a local pub down the street.  NO DRIVING NOR CABS NEEDED.

Heathrow had some work thing he needed to attend and wanted to push drinks to 9:15.  Nope.  By then I've either already started the evening, or I've washed and moisturized my face.  This sudden change of plans made me start thinking.

It's difficult to get together unless 2 or more people REALLY commit to one another. There's so much going on in our lives, both business and social.  This is why it's taking me so damn long to hit 30 dates.

I bet dates were rarely rescheduled in the 1800s.  Besides trying to live through harsh winters and looking for gold, what else was there to do?  I wonder how long it would take me to get through this blog if I lived back then.  I mean, if I could get past date 3 without being stoned to death by the town.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Date 13 1/2

My roommates have been singing the praises of this thing called Chinese Foot Spa. When they ask me to go with them, I always decline, but last night I was feeling weak and relented.

Going to Chinese Foot Spa is like going on a blind date. It's weird, you don't know how to act, and at times, it's quite painful.

While my suitor concentrated on my upper body, I felt like we were in a fight, and I was the one losing. I really thought that he was beating me up. He'd run his forearm along my shoulder to rub out the kinks, and his lack of arm hair was all I could think about.

The lower body portion (everybody's favorite) was much better but uncomfortable at times. There's a lot of continual rubbing in one concentrated place for a significant amount of time. I don't care what you're rubbing, if it's for too long, it begins to hurt.

Surprisingly, I did come out relaxed, with the feeling of accomplishment. I've also learned that I am more of a facial person.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

The Mystery of the Locally Sent Postcard

We have a full on Nancy Drew situation up in here. Today I received this postcard:

The reason this is a mystery is because a) I don't recall meeting an Andrew in Paris, b) Paris BF#1 was Quentin and Paris BF#2 was Sammy and if you want to count his friend who tried to rub up on me, his name is Z, and c) When would I ever give someone my address and not my number or email? Yeah stranger, here's how to knock on my door.

There are 2 very rational explanations for this.

1) This is a joke. One of you jokesters out there thought that this would be funny. Well you know what? It is. And quite frankly, I'm flattered. This took time and energy, and we all like to cross someone's mind every once in awhile.


2) I may have a slight drinking problem.

I will say this: It's an American stamp and a Croatian postcard. What does this prove? I have no clue, but I have been thinking of going to Croatia for a couple of years now, so it's probably a sign.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011


I've been avoiding dating, and I've been avoiding this blog. But like any co-dependent relationship, time to sweep things under the rug, push down hostile feelings, and get back to it.

Heathrow and I have a confirmed date for Friday, and I'm actually excited about it. Even if he sucks, I can focus on his forehead and meditate to the timbre of his English accent.

Max2 is pushing a coffee date which just proves we're not a match. I keep suggesting alcohol, he is persistent with the coffee thing. Young and Sober. Think I have the title for my next comedy album!

Le Lycee doesn't want to shake quite yet. We'll see what happens.

Copy Cat is such a dad and sends dad-like emails. I wonder if he knows how to fix my wireless printer connection? (Which reminds me, I need to call my dad.)

And last but not least, I may have dropped the ball with MoMA. I should have called him back, and I didn't. I'm just destined to be alone forever, I guess.

Saturday, September 3, 2011


Le Lycee and I have pretty much stopped communicating, and I believe it to be my fault. Oh, BTW, Tall and I are no longer an item, as well. This is because I am not reciprocating the way one recriprocates when one is interested. At the onset of this blog, I had the energy to pursue those that I wasn't that into pursuing. Because it was FOR THE BLOG. Well, I'm sick of it. So that means I need more inventory.

Two new inductees! Introducing MoMA. He's a painter and works at the Museum of Modern Art. HOT. We have gone so far as to exchange numbers and leave messages on each others' cell phones. He sounds uptight, but it must be nerves. Artists can't be uptight. It seems counterproductive to creativity.

I think we're all going to love Copy Cat. He looks like a dad. On my dating profile, I state that I sleep with an eye mask. Copy Cat inquired about that, and then ran out and got a mask that day. He wrote me the next morning, praising me for my eye mask recommendation and then asked about this awesome face cream that I also talk about on my profile. I forward him the information, and he friggin' runs out to buy it. Within an hour! Unbelievable. I'm meeting him for a drink next week, so I'm going to see what else I can talk him into buying.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Juggling Again

The stars must be aligned in a certain way, because I am on fire right now. A second surge, my friends. Half way mark comin' right at us.

Le Lycee may not be my husband, but there was easy conversation, he was sick, I was tired, so perhaps we should maybe see each other again. At least that's what I'm telling myself since he's inquiring about it. We're trying to coordinate a lunch date (lame but safe) for the weekend. I know you're excited.

I have a new frontrunner. Introducing Heathrow. Obviously, he's from London Town. He's my age, has a job, lives nearby, and has an accent. I love foreign men. Not the creepy older kind. The sexy, educated, can-teach-me-a-thing-or-two kind. I get to learn new vocabulary words from their native lands, and it just doesn't get much hotter than that, ladies and gentlemen.

OMG Regulars. You're going to love this. Remember Max2? He's the one who ends all of his sentences with 1/2 a parenthetical) Well, this persistent snit contacted me to see if I had met anyone yet. I think this is ballsy and bold. He's way too young, but I have to meet him. If the guys you want to run back to you never do, you have to reward the ones that try. It's positive reinforcement.

So, that's that y'all.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Date 13

I came this close (holding fingers extremely close together) to cancelling my date with Le Lycee. Not because I thought there would be anything wrong with him, but because I was tired. I realized it would be a bit rude to do so, and instead walked to a local watering hole to meet him.

Le Lycee was already seated with his non-alcoholic beverage. (He's sick.) He makes commercials and music videos, so we talked shop for a bit. He was wearing 2 rings (one on each hand), and one was on his pointer finger. I thought this to be an interesting choice.

As the evening continued (with easy conversation, I might add), I realized that he seemed quite short, even whilst sitting. This is not a huge problem, as I'm vertically challenged as well, but I was beginning to wonder if he was evenly proportioned.

If you Internet date long enough, there is a mental alarm clock that goes off as soon as an hour is up. He was coughing, I was yawning, so we called it an evening. We both stood up, and limbs and torso were all proportioned correctly.

Le Lycee is a lovely man. He's smart, interesting, attractive in a certain way, but he's not my husband. It's also not depressing at all that I haven't reached the 1/2 way mark and I'm sick of dating. Oh, and school starts on Thursday. Kill me already.

Monday, August 29, 2011


I have a date with The Saint, whom I wish I had named Le Lycee. You know what? He's renamed. As a reminder, Le Lycee went to high school in Paris, and during my travels, he and I corresponded. It's time to meet face-to-face.

I do not know much about Le Lycee. As a matter of fact, I don't know if we even exchanged our real names. I think he may be blond. If we had kids, they'd look cafe au lait.

Sunday, August 28, 2011


Just a couple of tidbits for the Regulars. (FYI- In case you haven't noticed, I've named my followers, Regulars, and now it's been capitalized, as you can see. Much more catchy than Little Monsters, don't you think?)

First order of business
As an insane advocate of Paris, and now the French, I'm a bit hurt that I don't have Regulars in France. United Kingdom? Check. Israel? Check. Guam? If you can friggin' believe it, CHECK. I am sweating it up on this side of the pond, spreading the word that French people are just misunderstood, and they're actually quite fabulous. Don't let me down, France. I need a Regular from your country to show your support.

Second order of business
Now that the school year is starting, things are about to change. I'll have less time on my hands, and any free moment I now have, I'll want to spend it writing, performing, and yucking it up with my friends at a local pub down the street. Let's call a spade a spade. But as God as my witness, I will do my best to keep this little blog alive. I feel I could get an extra surge of energy if I were to acquire a French Regular. Just sayin'.

Final order of business
I'm serious about the Jason Bateman thing.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Lazy Bones

I know I set the goal to get to 15 by the end of next week, but the follow through has been difficult since I cannot keep my eyes or energy up past noon. Not many people, including close friends, really care about my jet lag. Something about "getting the opportunity to see parts of Europe for free" disables the region of the brain that transmits empathy.

HOWEVER, Tall does want to se me tomorrow, so if that happens, I could be on my way. Some of you are probably wondering what in the heck is up with Tall. There hasn't been a lot of chatter. Tall is smart, funny-like, a quirky dresser, mature... I could go on and on. The only problem is this: I'm not getting the tingles in my special purpose. This is a shame, but a fact.

I'm frightened because those tingles seem to fade pretty quickly as of late. Back in the day, if I had the hots for I guy, I could tingle for MONTHS! Now I'm lucky if it lasts through the night. I think the only cure is Jason Bateman. So I do hereby declare Operation Break Up Jason Bateman and his Pregnant Wife. Who's with me?