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?

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.

Just Be Cool, Okay?

I’m going to take a brief turn from my normal entry of calling out the opposite sex for being lame and turn on my own sex for a second.

I have one really huge pet peeve that has developed in the last few years. I don’t know what changed, because I don’t remember it being this bad a few years back or maybe I was too drunk to care, but when in the world did women become so rude to each other? I mean, I’m not one of the friendliest people you will ever meet, but I’m not a raging bitch to people for no reason. I’m usually really nice until you give me a reason to hate you. But being in line that’s 10 women deep waiting for a restroom in a downtown bar that has only one stall (obviously planned out by a man, idiot) I don’t know why all the women waiting need to be such bitches to each other. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not expecting to meet my new best friend in line (I have plenty) but at least I don’t need chicks standing almost on top of me, digging into my back with their purse while they have total disregard for me as a person and just stare at me like I’m a piece of dirt on their stiletto. Who the crap are you? Why do you look at me like you are so much better than I am just because you are wearing a trendier outfit that I am? To quote Mr. Rodney King or whomever said this during the trial or riots or whatever; can’t we all just get along? And just be somewhat civil to each other? We all go to the same bars, shop at the same stores, and get hit on (or in my case not) by all the same guys. I would kind of understand the rudeness if I decided to go to a lame-o Hollywood club where I know I have nothing in common with any of the barley dressed um, “ladies” but come on, if I’m at a bar (or dive bar because I love me those too) that’s pretty cool at the moment, and I’m surrounded by women that I kind of have the same style as, or I’m looking at their outfits wondering where they got that shirt or really cute dress or thinking, “Gosh, I love her hair, if I were to cut it I would cut it like that” you know that we all might have a few things in common and there is no need to be such bitches to one another. Life is hard enough, and there’s so much crap in this world. Can we all just make a pack to just not add to the flinging of crap and all JUST BE COOL, okay??

Darn You Ryan Gosling *Waving Fist in Air*

I’ve stated in my posts before that people are always asking my why I’m single. I have many theories to why I am, but one reason I know for sure. It’s simple, the majority of men in the Los Angeles area are extremely, painfully uninteresting. You would think that I am only saying this because I am a bit picky and have too high expectations considering the fact that my Dad happens to be one of the wittiest people I have ever met and can make me laugh with just a look or because my latest ex (even though our relationship had um, problems) was one of the funniest person’s I have ever known in my life. We had this ability to be so stupid silly together and he always made me laugh (hard) even through the shit. I suppose that was why we even stayed together as long as we did. We had this intoxicating effect on one another and in a room full of friends we’d be the only ones, trying to “out laugh” each other. It was a constant comedy show and I have the videos to prove it. Not dirty videos FYI.

So with all of this said it comes down to this, are the men in this town completely uninteresting, egotistical, self righteous elitists? Or do I just expect too much? Do we have Hollywood to blame? Giving us ladies movies like The Notebook, when a man is good looking (Ryan Gosling the man of all men) has his shit together (or in this movie, comes from being super poor to rebuilding a plantation house in the south, hello!) and then not really having a job (he doesn’t work in the rest of the movie, but I don’t think that part was explained, or it was and I was just too busy staring at his beard to notice) but the whole time being super witty, making his funny’s, taking her on boat rides through swans (come the f$%& on) building her a room where she can do her “art” and then living happily ever after until she gets dementia and has to move into a nursing home where he follows and then they die together laying side by side. SERIOUSLY!!!???? Just by typing all of this I’m getting pissed. Guys in LA won’t even by a lady a drink! I go out every weekend with my friends, and not once has a guy approached me and asked me what I would like to drink. Ok, wait I’m getting away from the original blog, so I need to revert, more on guys not buying drinks for ladies in next week’s blog.

It’s like we’re stuck with two different guys in LA. The actor type that is witty, funny and somewhat interesting, but works as a waiter because they are trying to hit it big and seem to always think there is something better around the corner, so they would never want to settle on a non model with an awesome personality and a real job. Or the type that has a job, they’re either a banker or a lawyer, they make a good living and know what they want out of life, but they are as boring as a new born baby. (No offense to my mommy friends) there’s just no happy medium, except for my guys friends that all seem to be a perfect combination. Problem with that though, is I don’t want to date any of them.

All of this said, I would much rather be single and having a great time with my friends than waste my time on some lame-o that has nothing cool to say just so I can say I’m in a relationship. But that’s just the opinion of my friends and me. Some people (I blame society) think those women who aren’t in a relationship regardless of the reason, are just sad little bitter pathetic spinsters. When I think, we are actually onto something. Woman who can decide not to be in relationship because they don’t want to settle or waste their time with losers are actually way better off than women who stick around with jerks just so they can be in a partnership. When in turn if you are with a jerk that treats you like crap, it’s not actually a partnership. It’s a sad pathetic situation that you’ve become stuck in.

For now, I’d rather hang out with my friends, drinking in bars and making out with random hotness.Heeeyyyy-oooo

Valentine's Day Massacre

To show everyone that I am not a bitter Bettie, I will start my Valentine’s Blog with a story of my favorite Valentine’s Day. I really can’t be a bitter Bettie, because I have a wonderful life, friends and family that love me and a cutie pie 21 year old who sends me equally as cute valentine cards (ya he sent two can he be any cuter?)

A few years back I was in the first real relationship I had up to this point (sad cause I was 31). He was the most wonderful, caring, loving, boyfriend I had ever had. He took care of me when I got my nose done (I’m not going to lie and say I had a deviated septum, it was big and I didn’t like it) he surprised me with a trip to Vegas because he WANTED to meet my parents and they were there on vacation, he always took me and picked me up from the airport. On top of all that he actually liked to spend time with me (WHATT????) He was the bestest boyfriend ever! So when Valentine’s Day rolled around 5 months into our relationship, I knew it was going to be a goodie. It would also be the first Valentine’s Day where I wasn’t dating a complete loser so I was double excited about it.

***Disclaimer- my parents have given me a 2 pound box of See’s candy since I was born on top of a few Jr high and high school years when they gave me flowers too. They have made my Valentine’s Day awesome since the day I was born and all of my crap Valentine’s Day were carp boyfriends, not my parents***

About a week before Valentines Day he had told me that he wanted to make my Valentine’s Day super special because he knew all the ones before him were complete crap, so he had made plans and was going to surprise me night of (I know, awesome right?) I was excited! I couldn’t believe that I had finally hit the boyfriend jackpot and wondered what awesomeness he had in store for me. Then it happened, two days before Valentine’s Day he received a call from his brother that their dad was sick and he needed to come back to Chicago to help out and leave right away. Ahhhh are you kidding me? Can this really be happening to me? What horrible timing. Yes, I know super selfish, his Dad was dying and all I could think about was my first real Valentine’s Day. So within a few hours, he was off to Chicago and I was left with my crappy roommate (my last roommate had the personality of a wall).

So Valentine’s Day arrived and I went to work where I shared an office with 1 engaged chick (engaged people are so annoying especially on VD) and another chick who was practically engaged, lame-zies. They were both gushing about whatever they got from their men (both guys were complete douchebags) and what they had planned for that night, barf. Boyfriend called me that morning to wish me a happy Valentine’s Day and tell me he loved me blah blah blah, but I admit I was super bummed! Then at around noon, his best friend came into my place of work with a giant bouquet of flowers! He said that my boyfriend asked him to bring them to me. It was the sweetest most considerate thing anyone had ever done for me (minus the perfect childhood my parents gave me) and the fact that he was dealing with his father on his death bed, made it even more awesome. He came back a few nights later and we celebrated with dinner and other fun things. His Dad did end up passing away the day he came back to LA, boyfriend turned into a total freak from it, dumped me a few months later and proposed to his 22 year old girlfriend 2 months after we broke up.

Happy Valentine’s Day!