Thought of the Day: Babies or Allagash?

I’ve started taking a poll on what people think my problem is. And so far this is the consensus I've received: I may be a little too successful in my job position for men to appreciate. I know it sounds like a total excuse for a not so cute chick to use on why she can’t find a decent man to date, but with me it’s for real. I mean I’m not a super model (or regular model) but I’m not uggs either. And besides, my parents say I’m pretty. So, obviously I’M not the problem.

Now when this was first brought up to me (hello I didn’t come up with this idea, other people did so duh I’m not super conceited) at first I thought this was a ridiculous idea. To think that men are actually that shallow, that they would never consider dating a woman that is more than or equally successful in their job position as they are, is a disgusting thought! Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought, growing up as a child of the 80’s watching my mother every day strut her stuff out the door to an office, wearing her shoulder pads with pride and contributing a good amount of cash for my sister and I to have all the Guess? Jeans and Esprit clothes we could imagine would this not be adored or even sought after in the 2000’s! My Dad never seemed to have any kind of issue with my Working Girl mother (yes my Dad is not like most men and is super freaking rad) Even Melanie Griffith glorified the women’s working movement so well with that awesome movie I watched over and over thinking all the while “that’s what I want when I’m old!”.

A chick that makes her own money, has her own life, and doesn’t nag on you a million times a day (because she has employees to nag on) sounds to me like it would be a man’s wet dream. All I ever hear from guys is how much they hate it when women are needy, doesn’t have their own friends, makes you pay every time you go out or nags on you every chance she gets (said with my super whinny “man” voice). I do none of the above, yet I feel like every time I’m talking to a guy in their 30’s as soon as they ask me what I do (and I actually tell them the truth) I get a “oh wow that’s cool” followed by a disappearing act. Not to knock all men. I’m just finding that it’s men 30 and older that seem to have a bit of a problem with my success (and by success I mean I have people that work for me and I run a Department. That’s’ right, A WHOLE DEPARTMENT!!! (said in my Ramona Quimby Age 8 voice). The men that approach me that are in their 20’s high (28) and low (21) actually think it’s an asset (or just normal bc that’s a totally different generation). A guy friend of mine tried to explain it like this, he said (and I quote) “There’s a simple reason for that. Men you are meeting in their 30’s who don’t have their shit together, obviously don’t want to be with a woman that does have her shit together. Men in the 20’s think that they have plenty of time to get their shit together so they don’t see it threatening when a chick already has her shit together” Said by a 30 something year old, so he would totally know right?

Is it that simple though? Have I been analyzing the shit out of men with my girlfriends over beer and facials for years and years for it to be that F-ing simple? So you are now probably thinking “well if that’s it, why she doesn’t just find someone in their 30’s that already has their shit together” well that unfortunately is almost unheard of in Los Angeles. Angeleno’s (yeah I’m embarrassed that I just called myself an Angeleno, gag) are about 10 years off from the rest of the country and things that 25 year olds are doing everywhere else we are doing at 35. Besides all the men in Los Angeles that already have their shit together are as follows: my friends, married (or almost) or gay. It’s a nice thought, but gets me nowhere.

I now have two choices. I can begin to only date men in their 20’s (yeah baby) or lie about what I do (my mother says I’m the worst liar ever, I turn bright red and then burst out the truth seconds later. This was a huge problem in high school). But dating men in their 20’s bites you in the ass because of the comment I made earlier about us being about 10 off from the rest of the US. My clock is a ticking (I tend to ignore it) and would maybe like to have a baby in the next few years (question mark?) Or not have a baby, but still have the choice. But the window of time where I still have a choice is rapidly decreasing (hello I’m 35). Okay, It’s obvious that it's that time of month for me cause that’s the ONLY time I actually think I may want a baby. The rest of the month I’m drinking.

So there we have it, men in their 30’s are scared of me and men in their 20’s don’t want to (maybe) make babies in the next few years. So for the time being, I’ll just order another Allagash.

Where Can I find Jack Tripper?

Not much new on the dating scene for me this week. Spent a lot of time between work and friends, which is fine by me. BUT, I’m sure you all knew I would find something to write and complain about, right? I didn’t want to disappoint, so here we go:

Now, I’ve touched on this subject before, but it’s such an annoying goodie that I feel as though I need to elaborate.
Okay, so when in the crap did it become “un-cool” to buy a lady a drink at a bar?

I go out with my girlfriends every single weekend, either Friday or Saturday (sometimes both depending on the week I had). So if there’s 52 weeks out of the year (right? I’m crap with math and smart stuff) and I go out with the ladies 2 days out of those weeks that gives us 104 nights a year that men don’t buy me (us) drinks. What happened to our generation? I mean, wasn’t that the freaking norm in the 70’s and 80’s? That’s what Three’s company taught me as a child, Jack Tripper and his creepy friend Larry were ALWAYS buying chicks drinks. You could always count on some part of the episode taking place at the Regal Beagle with Jack either on a date, or trying to pick up on ladies by sending a drink over to their table (of course in between all the miscommunication and crazy shenanigans)- ALWAYS! This conditioned me as a child to think this was my future, this is what I had to look forward to as a single adult. I go to a bar and a guy thinks I’m cute, I no longer need to buy drinks. Granted as I got older, I realized that it’s not a good idea to have men buy you drinks all night, duh. But this day in age, I don’t get a single drink sent over to me, or a “hey, can I get you a drink” EVER (of course not counting the drinks my guy friends buy me cause they’re rad) Men approach me, talk to me, breath all over me, make me listen to their stupid ass stories, sometimes touch me unwanted and not once offering me a drink. It’s not like I drink $15 martini’s either, I drink cheap ass beer. The least they can do is reward me for having to put up with them for the 20 minutes they just sucked from my life. Kinda like a courtesy drink. Like “hey, I know I’m lame and you are super not interested in my douche bag talk, so here’s a beer to show you it wasn’t a complete waste of your time” Kind of like the gift bag at the end of a networking event or a baby shower.

Now, I’m not trying to sound like a total bitch. I don’t expect men to buy me drinks that I have no interest in what so ever, I’m simply saying that if a guy unwantingly approaches me and there’s not much I can do about it without being a complete bitch, the least they can do is buy me a $5 drink.

Is This What's Left?

I have not blogged in a while not only due to my crazy work schedule the last few weeks but also the lack of dates I’ve been asked out on and also lack of wanting to accept. I’ve blogged many a time regarding the “quality” of men located in the city of Los Angeles and last night just seem to solidify the fact that guys here suck.

My roommate and I decided to keep it a low pro night, and bar hop in our area. We started with dinner at the local sushi joint (always a good idea) and make our way to the dive bar down the street. Now, I’ve only been to this place once before long long ago when I was dating someone that lived in this area, way before I decided to settle here. It was a good time then, typical dive bar with great pricing but nothing really special to look at except for the awesome antlers hanging from the ceiling. You know it’s the type of place that you’ll almost always have a celeb sighting cause it’s so low pro, apparently Jennifer Love(less)Hewitt was there the week before. What could it hurt?

We enter the bar around 8:00pm, thinking by this time it would already be packed. It was the opposite you could hear crickets throughout the joint, although it took the waitress 15 minutes to come over to our table which we found right away. After scanning the room and finding nothing, we decide that it’s probably just early (I say decide which really means, hoping) and start having our usual good time anyway. My roommate and I have this ability to have fun and be happy without men; it’s a skill most women don’t have. After about an hour my roommate leaves me for the restroom and I decide to check my facebook, always a good play when sitting by yourself at a bar. I hear this guy next me say something he I’m sure thought was witty about my FB which forced me to look up. He starts rambling on about just moving here and living in Big Bear (if you don’t live here, you don’t know that Big Bear is far and where LA people go to snowboard in the “winter”) and starts telling me (not asking) that we are in fact in an area called North Hollywood. Okay, if you just moved here I understand that LA is a very large city which has a layout that really doesn’t make sense. We have a downtown area that up until a few years ago sucked, and so many little areas of the city named weird different things, with a place called the valley, and Santa Monica not being part of the city event though it is etc... I get it, I understand that it’s confusing and not like other cities, but if you just moved here and don’t know the lay of the land, you can’t be so egotistical (or stupid) to argue with a lady that just stated she grew up here, where the different area’s are when she corrects you. He then started to go on about the area we were in was not considered part of the city (even though the address is Los Angeles) because it doesn’t have sky scrapers. So I kind rudely ask (because in my old age I have no patience for lame men) if he considered Lincoln Park as part of Chicago, which he answers with a “yes”. So I tell him that I’ve been to Chicago and don’t remember seeing any sky scrapers in that area (I could be wrong but I took a shot), so it should not be considered part of the city based on his theory. He of course had nothing to say to that (he agreed that it didn’t have sky scrapers either so I was right?). His friend then came over, and by this point my roomy was back from the bathroom. His friend was very nice and actually somewhat interesting to talk to. So that was ok.

I then go to the bar for water (because our waitress visits were few and far between) and begin talking to the two guys sitting at the bar in suits (suits are typically a good sign) I noticed with the first word that they are British (I’m a sucker for accents and suits) one of them was cute, the other was whatever. So the whatever one starts talking to me about something (drunk babble maybe?) and I hear the word “rape” in there. So I say to the cute friend “Did he just say he raped someone? Does he know what that means in America?” cute friend says to me while kind of laughing that yes they do indeed know what rape means in this country. Okay, I decide that their “brit” humor was lost on me with this one. I normally find British men quiet amusing and am into their dry humor. So I go back to the table and the Chicagoians have left. The Brits follow me (still saying something about rape) and begin speaking to roomy. She asks them something about what they did today and they say again “rape” something. But at this point there were a few more people in the bar and I had consumed a few more drinks so the conversation is fuzzy. I keep asking them if rape means the same here than in England, again trying to give them the benefit of the doubt (because they are wearing suits) and again they tell me they know exactly what it means and they think it’s funny. So with that, I’m kinda over the conversation. I try not to be such a bitch to people, but there are things that I just don’t find funny. Rape is one of those things, especially when it’s a man thinking the word is funny. I find it somewhat disgusting. So in my drunken stupor, I begin yelling “redcoats” at them (which I stole from my roomy, It’s really funny when she says it) and ask them what it was like to lose the war. I know, it was a long shot, who ever talks about and throws the war of independence into a brits face, but that was all I had at that moment and I work with what I got. So they decide to leave and that was the end of it. A few other kids (yes kids they were 21) came over to talk to us, but with that we decided it was time for us to head out and put this Saturday night to bed.