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.
Monday, November 28, 2011
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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