I was recently asked out by a bartender/just got his college degree/ NOT AN ACTOR (thank God) from one of my favorite spots in LA. After five months of endless flirting, wearing my best outfits every time I went in, showing off my legs (hey, that’s all I got) as much as I can, thinking what the hell is wrong with this guy (??) and starting to get exhausted, He FINALLY asked if I would like to get a drink. Exactly one year without being asked out by someone who’s not a creeper, I was so looking forward to it. Getting to know him over the last few months, one beer at a time, I learned that he’s nice, polite, attentive (always knows when to bring me another drink) and somewhat funny. Not overly funny, to where it would compete with my funny, but funny enough to not bore me to death. He seems just normal, which in this town is a hot commodity.
I eagerly (hello 5 months) responded to his timid asking out with a valley girl YES! and began the waiting process. This to me is always the worst part. You got the awkward asking out, out of the way and are excited for the first date, but the in between waiting for him to call (or as the kids are doing these days, texting) is the worst. I start to get all wrapped up in my head. The last 2 boyfriends I had actually called the next day, which is why they ended up as my BF. None of this Swinger’s 3 days crap. They were interested, so they called. Like it. So I proceeded to patiently wait for him to call and/or text. More hoping he would call over a text, because my generation is not used to the “text courting”. So after a few days of “Did he call, did he call” from everyone I know I started to get a bit worried. A week went by without a peep so I naturally started to ask EVERY guy I know if this is normal. Of course it doesn’t help that every guy I know is my age, and we come from the generation of calling in a timely manner. So they were all a bit confused as well (not a good sign when a guy doesn’t understand another guy) I started to think all kinds of crazy things, like did he lose my number? Did he die? What the hell was going on? Is this what the kids are doing now a days? (Did I fail to mention he is lots younger than me, um by like 8 years?) Is two weeks the new Swingers 3 days? If so, how does anyone date? You give someone your number and then completely forget they exist in the meantime so by the time they do call you’re like, who is this? After a week and a half I decided it was time to write him off and began to figure out how I could still go to my favorite spot and not look like a stalking creeper, maybe I could wear a mask? While I was shopping at the year round Halloween store for my disguise he texted. A two text text, the kind where it’s so long that the 2nd text comes in before the first so you immediately get confused cause all you see is the first word of the 2nd text. In this case I saw “unfortunately” first. Um, NOT GOOD. I get a sinking feeling and debate if I even want to read the whole thing. Of course I do because I’m a glutton for punishment and by this point actually think my dating life (or lack thereof) is just getting so ridiculously funny, that nothing really will shock me. It says this” I know we are supposed to get a drink, and I would love to cause you seem wonderful (kiss of dead *not in text*) but unfortunately at this time I can’t. I am going through a tough time and cannot get into something” ARE YOU KIDDING ME???? Really???? What the hell does that mean? Are you married? Are you going through a divorce? Are you fathering a child by an ex GF? What could that possibly mean? My first instinct was to ignore it (cause that’s what I do best) and just find a new place to go for my beer and hamburgers, but after a few minutes of mixed emotions (mainly anger and confusion) I decided that what he was doing was actually very mature and somewhat refreshing. I have been so used to guys never calling, or dating someone for a month just to have them fall of the planet without the respected, “hey I don’t think we should see each other anymore” I’m constantly playing the guessing game with men, so for him to let me know that he is not in a position to hang out instead of blowing me off, or better yet hanging out with me, getting involved and then when feelings are there, drop me like a hot potato, was kinda rad. I had a feeling of respect for a man that I’ve never had before. So I replied with “That’s too bad, I was looking forward to it, but thank you for telling me. It’s quite refreshing. Let me know when your situation changes and we can get that drink”. Totally mature back. I was actually very impressed with myself. So now every time I go into my favorite bar, I can look him in the eye, give him a high five and drink my favorite beer without a feeling of embarrassment or wonder even if he is a date Indian giver (I know, not PC but I was raised in the 80’s).
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Mom Says...
I’ve realized recently that in order to have a dating blog, you should probably date. Unfortunately I’m never approached by men so that’s impossible. I have gone a record 10 months without a single date! Sometimes I feel like I have a “ghoulie mask” on and I’m actually stuck in an episode of the Twilight Zone. Like the one where you think the lady is pretty and she’s in the hospital for surgery and then you find out she lives on a planet where everyone has pig noses. In my mind I’m not that bad, but to the outside world I could be “ghoulie mask girl”! I’ve piled together reasons why my mother thinks I’m single (minus ghoulie mask). I call this game “Mom says” yeah I know, clever. It’s fun and you should play this at home with participating parents.
Mom says- I work too much: As much as I love this *cough excuse* um reason, here’s how I can debunk it. DOESN’T EVERYONE WORK TOO MUCH???? Yeah almost everyone I know has very limited time because they work more than 40 hours a week at a high demanding stressful job or have families and jobs to attend too, or have like three jobs!!! I’m not the only one in Los Angeles with a career. I actually noticed in a meeting the other day with my fellow managers (side note: it was me and eight men, yeah.) that all of them are married. Yup, that’s right. Every. Single. One. Married! Ranging from the ages of 28-50 (maybe even older but I’ll be nice). They all managed to find time in between their “high stress” positions to meet someone special, date, get on one knee and propose. A few of them are even on the baby train, so they’ve also found time to reproduce. We all work a lot; America has turned into the all work and no play country. Employers expect their employees to be in the office for 9 hours, leave to go network until 10:00pm all the while available through email. It’s exhausting just thinking about it. But people do it and all the while date, get married and reproduce. I would like to think that I have actually created an awesome balance between work and friends; I even pride myself on it. My relationships (and beer) are very important to me and I would never let something like my job get in the way of them. I’m also lucky enough to have a boss that doesn’t expect me to live and breathe my job. But even if I worked a million hours a week (I’m pretty close), believe you me, if I were to meet a cutie-pie I would totally find time to go on a date with him.
Mom says- I’m too independent: Um, okay. When is a woman being too independent a crappy thing? So what this says to me is that guys actually like to date the super needy, naggy, annoying chicks? I beg to differ, and this is because I know a lot of ladies that are in relationships and they are totally not needy, naggy or annoying (or I wouldn’t hang out with them duh). Why would a guy NOT want to date someone that doesn’t care (and actually encourages) them to hang out with their friends, doesn’t text every second of the day (because hello I have a job), doesn’t want them to spend the night every single night (I like to sleep in the middle of my bed, alone thank you very much) and hates cuddling!!?? I don’t think so.
Mom says-I’m too picky: This is a little hard to understand just because she also tells me to never settle. Okay, which is it lady? And besides I wear a bicycle sweatshirt for God sakes, how picky can I be? With all of these “reasons” though, she also thinks that I live an awesome life of singleton and should enjoy it as long as I can. So there, mom says.
Mom says- I work too much: As much as I love this *cough excuse* um reason, here’s how I can debunk it. DOESN’T EVERYONE WORK TOO MUCH???? Yeah almost everyone I know has very limited time because they work more than 40 hours a week at a high demanding stressful job or have families and jobs to attend too, or have like three jobs!!! I’m not the only one in Los Angeles with a career. I actually noticed in a meeting the other day with my fellow managers (side note: it was me and eight men, yeah.) that all of them are married. Yup, that’s right. Every. Single. One. Married! Ranging from the ages of 28-50 (maybe even older but I’ll be nice). They all managed to find time in between their “high stress” positions to meet someone special, date, get on one knee and propose. A few of them are even on the baby train, so they’ve also found time to reproduce. We all work a lot; America has turned into the all work and no play country. Employers expect their employees to be in the office for 9 hours, leave to go network until 10:00pm all the while available through email. It’s exhausting just thinking about it. But people do it and all the while date, get married and reproduce. I would like to think that I have actually created an awesome balance between work and friends; I even pride myself on it. My relationships (and beer) are very important to me and I would never let something like my job get in the way of them. I’m also lucky enough to have a boss that doesn’t expect me to live and breathe my job. But even if I worked a million hours a week (I’m pretty close), believe you me, if I were to meet a cutie-pie I would totally find time to go on a date with him.
Mom says- I’m too independent: Um, okay. When is a woman being too independent a crappy thing? So what this says to me is that guys actually like to date the super needy, naggy, annoying chicks? I beg to differ, and this is because I know a lot of ladies that are in relationships and they are totally not needy, naggy or annoying (or I wouldn’t hang out with them duh). Why would a guy NOT want to date someone that doesn’t care (and actually encourages) them to hang out with their friends, doesn’t text every second of the day (because hello I have a job), doesn’t want them to spend the night every single night (I like to sleep in the middle of my bed, alone thank you very much) and hates cuddling!!?? I don’t think so.
Mom says-I’m too picky: This is a little hard to understand just because she also tells me to never settle. Okay, which is it lady? And besides I wear a bicycle sweatshirt for God sakes, how picky can I be? With all of these “reasons” though, she also thinks that I live an awesome life of singleton and should enjoy it as long as I can. So there, mom says.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
The New Threesome
You hear the phrase threesome and you automatically have so many lovely visions dancing in your head (well, if you’re a guy). Sorry to disappoint, but this blog entry is unfortunately not about THAT kind of threesome. I’m sure this is where I’ll lose a few of you. It’s about the new threesome that keeps popping its ugly head, the date threesome.
Recently I met a guy at a friend’s bday party and we immediately hit it off with love of the same type of music and my love for beards. He had one and I liked touching it. Yes, I seemed to be a bit more intoxicated than I would like to be at a friend’s bday party, but it was cold out (duh). After a few hours of stroking his beard and discussing music, my friends and I decided to leave. It was 12:00am on a Tuesday and I had to be at my adult job and actually “with it” by 9:00am the next day. The stroking (not the dirty kind) ended with “I’ll find you” AKA the term men use when they don’t want to ask for your number, they find you and research you on FB before making a decision to ask you out or proceed with whatever it is first (this seems to be happening to me a lot lately, is this a generation thing? Or a defense mechanism? Whole other blog entry)
After a few days of an awful hangover (I’m too old for that crap) and wanting to chop my head off he did exactly what he said he would do. He found me, messaged me and requested my friendship all in one loop of FB. I accepted his friendship even though I am a bit skeptical about “becoming friends” with a guy I have little to lot interest in on FB. I feel as though the dating process is someone getting to know me by spending time with me, falling for my funny and eventually learning I’m a nut case. Not finding out I’m a bit of a coo-coo clock from just a few status updates. I need them in the web first, so when they find out I’m a bit odd, they just think it’s cute.
So with hesitance, I accepted. I replied to his email (about bands) and went back and forth a few times. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing too serious. Which for me is good, I like slow. Really really slow. I actually like to be friends with someone first and then maybe if we like each other or whatever, then maybe something can happen (see this is part of my crazy) I haven’t had a boyfriend in so long that I think I forgot how to actually date and what it’s like to like someone and have them like me back. So the slower, the better. So the pace it was going was fine, no pressure, and no expectations. He also doesn’t live here, so that calls for total slowness.
After a few weeks of emails here and there (always about bands) he was coming to my city for a visit. He informed me through good ol’ FB that he would be in town and would like to get a drink. Ok, I can handle that, a drink is fine. I like to drink and I don’t do it alone (well not all the time), so a drink might work. We figured out a night to get this drink (which was kinda hard for me, because I make time for men around my friends availability, reason #54 why I’m a freak) and after a few things popped up, I realized the night decided wouldn’t actually work. So in the mist of us trying to figure out another night, he gave me the option of one, we get a drink on a night he is hanging out with a mutual friend. A threesome date. What the crap is that I thought. Am I not cool enough or interesting enough to spend time with just me? Why do you have to bring your friend with you? Is it just in case the conversation with me sucks, you have someone else to speak to? I don’t get it. I took great defense to this and it made me not even want to hang out at all. So I made up some excuse and that was that.
The story came up with a girlfriend of mine from high school. She’s also single, a few years younger than me and also has zero luck with the opposite sex. We were swapping dating stories when this one came up. I told her everything word for word and even told her that this had happened to me AGAIN a few weeks later, a guy wanting a threesome date with me and a mutual friend. She listened to my story with all the horror in my voice and simply looked at me and said “maybe they were doing that so you would be comfortable” WHATTTT????? Really? How did this explanation not even cross my brain for even a second? Am I really this jaded or is she just a complete optimist? I immediately write guys off when they want to bring along a “friend” even when I know the friend, because I take it so personal. Maybe my friend is right, maybe I’m just super cynical and need to ease up a bit? Or maybe I just suck and guys want a buffer. Whitney Houston (may she rest * sign of the cross*) said it best “How will I know?”
I don’t know Whitney, I just don’t know.
Is it time for therapy yet?
Monday, April 2, 2012
Flirting or Restraining Order?
My girlfriends and I last night ended up going to see Val Kilmer’s one man show of Mark Twain, which was pretty interesting to say the least. Before the show we went to a pretty popular restaurant on Melrose to enjoy drinks and food as well as enjoyable conversations. After two of the ladies that are in relationships talked about the many wonderful things about being in a relationship (gag) the conversation turned to me and the other singleton. This week (unlike all the many many weeks before) I actually had something to contribute. I posed this question among the table of the chicks: When does the flirting become throwing yourself at someone? I have found something out about myself in the two years that I have been single (or let’s say 6 months cause that’s the amount of time I’ve actually liked boys again). I have two buttons, yes yes please and eww no thank you. I can’t seem to find the happy medium between the standoffish and the throwing myself at people. A few years back I read the book “He’s just not that into you” and I think instead of helping me with my crazy mind set, it actually made me crazier. When I first laid eyes on the book I thought it was genius! Of course, if a guy doesn’t look at me twice than its obvious that he’s just not that into me, duh. But as the years went on, and I got into a relationship with someone I had been friends with for a while I had totally forgotten about the book and all of its contents. After that relationship had ended I kinda jumped into something with someone else that I had again kinda known for a bit (see a trend, yeah I’m getting there). So again for the next year and a half I didn’t have to think about that concept any more than I would have to think of having a baby or something. So I lived my life not thinking that I would ever again (or not for a while at least) have to analyze the crap out of men and their actions towards me.
By the time I was single again, I was so messed mentally from my ex (both actually did a number on my self-esteem in different ways) that I actually had no desire to date or have anything to do with men that weren’t my friends or my Dad. So I lived the first year and a half of a singleton not paying attention to men, not noticing the cuteness men, not caring at all to put any effort into anything that involved a male and mostly not even flirting with men (which says a lot about me because I am a big flirt regardless). So now in the last 6 months I’ve actually started to notice men again and have had actual interest in a few (few as in like two). But with the few that I have had interest in, I’ve had the problem of either being super cold or super too much.
I blame my behavior whole heartily from the book I read so long ago. If a guy does not give me exactly what I want the first second I meet him, I’m out. Without another thought of him, I quickly write him off as if he was someone I passed on the street. Problem being, I am not nor have I ever been the type of chick that can automatically get a guy’s attention (like in the movies) at the first look. Men don’t see me from across the room and think “Oh who IS that beautiful creature” I’ve always been (and completely always aware I am) the type of girl that the guy becomes friends with and then somewhere down the road they fall madly in like with me. I don’t know what it is; I have this delayed reaction spell over men. It normally takes 3-6 months of friendship before a guy starts to see me romantically. This has happened with every single person I have dated. They were all friends of mine first, or on a few occasions had a big crush on one of my friends and then somewhere down the road they say to me “oh wait, you’re really cool” and then end up liking me. It’s always kinda sucked for me, because if I really like someone and it takes them the 6 months to reciprocate I’m usually totally over them by the time they figured out how rad I am, and on to the next guy that won’t like me for 6 months. It’s like a big giant lame cycle. So you see why the book “He’s Just Not That Into You” would be a bit of a hindrance on me. The men now a days need a little push anyway, so when does the flirting become too much and it’s time to back off? It’s like the question of the century. When I asked my fellow chicks this question at dinner they all just kinda looked at me and said “I don’t know”. Will we ever know? Is this something that has to be based on a certain situation? Or do I just flirt and flirt and flirt until I either get what I want or find a restraining order on me?
By the time I was single again, I was so messed mentally from my ex (both actually did a number on my self-esteem in different ways) that I actually had no desire to date or have anything to do with men that weren’t my friends or my Dad. So I lived the first year and a half of a singleton not paying attention to men, not noticing the cuteness men, not caring at all to put any effort into anything that involved a male and mostly not even flirting with men (which says a lot about me because I am a big flirt regardless). So now in the last 6 months I’ve actually started to notice men again and have had actual interest in a few (few as in like two). But with the few that I have had interest in, I’ve had the problem of either being super cold or super too much.
I blame my behavior whole heartily from the book I read so long ago. If a guy does not give me exactly what I want the first second I meet him, I’m out. Without another thought of him, I quickly write him off as if he was someone I passed on the street. Problem being, I am not nor have I ever been the type of chick that can automatically get a guy’s attention (like in the movies) at the first look. Men don’t see me from across the room and think “Oh who IS that beautiful creature” I’ve always been (and completely always aware I am) the type of girl that the guy becomes friends with and then somewhere down the road they fall madly in like with me. I don’t know what it is; I have this delayed reaction spell over men. It normally takes 3-6 months of friendship before a guy starts to see me romantically. This has happened with every single person I have dated. They were all friends of mine first, or on a few occasions had a big crush on one of my friends and then somewhere down the road they say to me “oh wait, you’re really cool” and then end up liking me. It’s always kinda sucked for me, because if I really like someone and it takes them the 6 months to reciprocate I’m usually totally over them by the time they figured out how rad I am, and on to the next guy that won’t like me for 6 months. It’s like a big giant lame cycle. So you see why the book “He’s Just Not That Into You” would be a bit of a hindrance on me. The men now a days need a little push anyway, so when does the flirting become too much and it’s time to back off? It’s like the question of the century. When I asked my fellow chicks this question at dinner they all just kinda looked at me and said “I don’t know”. Will we ever know? Is this something that has to be based on a certain situation? Or do I just flirt and flirt and flirt until I either get what I want or find a restraining order on me?
Saturday, March 24, 2012
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.
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.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
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.
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.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
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.
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.
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