Friday, June 30, 2006

McDreamy

Patrick Dempsey - mmmmm
Yes, I know it, I’m a big gigantic nickname-stealer, but I swear there’s good reason for it. There is an amusing practice of creating insulting names that sound like they could be Irish/Scottish names, as in: “I can’t believe you just cut me off Jerky McBadDriver!”
Well, I have just recently started talking to a guy on Match who has a profile name using the above amusing technique. Plus, he’s 6’0” tall (we all know how I feel about tall guys) and very cute and so far seems intelligent, funny, and interesting – if anyone can believe it! So, he shall be referred to
henceforth as McDreamy.

I don’t yet know a ton about him, as he proposed the phone call about 2 emails in. Usually I wait longer before I talk to someone on the phone (if I do it at all before meeting them), but I’m already excited enough and imagining enough chemistry that it’s best that I don’t let any more expectation build before I Get On With It. He’s 30, which is a good age for me, lives in Burbank and does some kind of neat job that involves sculptures and architectural elements. I’ll relate more as I find out more. I’m calling him tomorrow, because he sent me his number and I’m going to Be Assertive.

In other stories, AlienSpider and I are still talking. I asked him where he likes to hang out in town, and he listed almost all of my favorite bars. I’m assuming he lives in my neighborhood, since we hang out in such similar places. He still seems really cool, actor or not, so I’m assuming that we’ll be setting up a date in the near future.

Mr. Hawaii emailed me yesterday to thank me for the date, and managed to work almost every topic we discussed into the email. It’s endearing, but a little on the side of trying-to-hard at the same time. It’s funny, I’ve gotten a few comments about the fact that I’m wary that he’s skinnier than I am, but that’s not the real thing that I’m hesitant about. The thing that worries me is what I perceive as a possibility for him to start treating me like I’m so great that I’m too good for him in some way – it’s this “putting me on a pedestal” thing that happens sometimes and is really off-putting to me. But I could be wrong and he could just be the type of guy who really goes out of his way to be attentive and involved with everyone he spends time with.

IDon’tKnowYou Guy wrote me back, saying he was sorry, that my pictures online really look like pics that this girl he dated has on her MySpace page. That her name is “L” too, and that her last name also starts with a “B”. (The sneaky trick being that my last name doesn’t start with a “B”, it’s my middle name that does.) He also said she lived in Glendale, where I’ve never lived. I don’t know if it’s fickle of me, but I’ve now lost complete interest in him. I know that it’s hard to keep people straight in this crazy LA dating scene – but I feel offended that I was so easily mixed up with Some Other Chick. So I’m going to cross him off of my list.

Lyrics of the Day

"Come, come, fly into my palm and collapse. Oh oh, suppose you'll never know. Nobody knows where they might end up, nobody knows." Psapp Cosy in the Rocket (Grey's Anatomy theme song)

Thursday, June 29, 2006

That's Gotta Be Embarrassing

I've been talking to a guy on Match for a little bit, who I hadn't talked about or given a name to, because I wasn't sure I was that interested. Then he was conspicuously absent for a few days, and so I wrote him off. Today he emailed me back, saying sorry he'd been really busy. Then he went on to say that he didn't know if I realized it, but we already knew each other. We had met in a bar in Santa Monica a couple of years ago and gone out a couple of times. He said he was even on my MySpace friends list. He said, "I think we saw Sideways together." Then he gave me his number "in case I lost it" and said to call him if I wanted to hang out again.

The thing is: I don't know him. He's not on my friend list on MySpace. I'm extremely strict about my MySpace friends - if I don't actually know you and I haven't talked to you in-person before, then we are not "friends". No bands, no random people looking to increase their friend count. And I know that I went to see Sideways with a friend of mine - not on a date. Plus, I've never actually forgotten someone I've dated before.

I sent him back an email saying as much. I'm interested to see what he has to say, or if he'll be embarrassed and won't reply.

Lyrics of the Day

"And anyone can tell, you think you know me well. Well, you don't know me." Ray Charles You Don't Know Me

Aloha

I have very mixed feelings about my first date with Mr. Hawaii. We met at the Cat n Fiddle at 7:30. He was stuck in traffic on the way there, so called to warn me that he may be 5 or 10 minutes late. He ended up being almost exactly on time – but the call gave him big Brownie Points because I’m both crazily punctual and crazy about manners. We settled onto a bench, because the Cat was strangely busy for a Wednesday night, and commenced Getting To Know Each Other.

First off, let me say that he’s a very sweet guy. He remembers all the little details that we talked about in the emails and asks a lot of inquisitive and insightful questions. Previously unbeknownst to me, he is involved in the medical industry as well (which, by the way, makes me 5 for 5 in the dating-only-people-who-are-in-an-industry-I-have-worked-in game. Thus far, the score is: Medical: 3, Entertainment: 2). He edits stuff for order-entry software, which is far more interesting to me than it would be to the average Jo on the street. We talk about various aspects of healthcare and my job and his job, then move on to subject after subject.

Eventually, we get to writing. As I had mentioned in a previous post, I was particularly interested to talk to him about this. We talked a little about representation and what he wants to do (I had asked a lot of questions about this over email, so knew the basics), then he paid me a really big compliment. He said that he really thinks that I write well (and this based on a mere 4-or-so emails) and that I should really try to tackle something. I made a very vague allusion to the fact that I’ve been blogging a little (the closest I’ve come to admitting this little venture; the closest I’ll probably ever come, unless something gets serious), and that I’ve really been enjoying it. He told me a couple more times that he thought my writing was witty and smart (trying to get into my pants? Maybe, but flattery will get you everywhere), and I thanked him profusely, because it really does mean a lot to me when someone has a positive opinion of my writing. Anyway, eventually it was time for me to get my Old Lady butt to bed, so we bid our farewells and I told him that I would be up to do something again. Our conversation was so good and I did laugh quite a bit, so I think it warrants a second date.

BUT. Here are the reasons that my feelings are so mixed: First, he’s smaller than I am. And I don’t mean in height, which wouldn’t bother me one bit, I mean in girth. As in, I probably out-weigh him and I’m not considered a large girl by any standards other than Hollywood’s. There’s something about dating someone who would need a belt to wear my pants that just doesn’t sit right with me. The other thing is that I was right in my initial fear about him – he is just a little too dorky. I’ve been thinking a lot about the fact that internet dating creates strange bedfellows. Through this process, I’ve gone on dates with a lot of guys that I would probably never go out with if I met them in person first. I guess that’s the thing about it – you have to consider someone from such an entirely different angle that you don’t rule them out in the same ways. Maybe I should be… But the point is, if I had met him in person, I never would have gone out with him in the first place. But since I met him online, and he’s a really sweet guy, I’m willing to give him a real chance. Which is more dangerous in the end: meeting someone you’re attracted to but might not be intellectually compatible with or vice versa?

Lyrics of the Day

“I wish you'd make up my bed, so I could make up my mind. Try it for sleeping instead, maybe you'll rest sometime.” Ryan Adams Come Pick Me Up

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Random Snippets

This is just a bunch of stuff that has been rattling around my brain all day, that I felt the irrepressible urge to share:

  • I have my date with Mr. Hawaii tonight, but I am seriously dragging ass today. I don't know what my problem is, but I feel like I could fall asleep at any moment. I'm going to try to remedy that with caffeine, because I want to give him a fair shot and not yawn through every conversation.

  • I wanted to mention, Blue Shirt and Hollywood Poseur visited The Sister at work last Saturday night. Blue Shirt tried to ask The Sister out, and invited her to join them at Spasmatics on Sunday night. We agonized over this, because I knew that if we went alone, I would be stuck talking to HP all night long unless I opted to be really rude and just walk away. Fortunately we got too drunk at Barney's to follow through on Spasmatics anyway - Crisis averted!

  • The longer I write this blog, the more I feel the need to share. When I look back on my old posts - I had a talent for brevity that seems to have escaped me. But I like sharing, and my mama taught me that it is the nice thing to do, so I shall continue.

  • My apartment building is having its "annual" landlord inspection (I put annual in quotes because I've lived here for over two years and this is the first time it's happened) on Friday, so I am actually forced to do something about the state of my place. It's a good thing, but a bad week for it to happen. I did some cleaning last night and will suck it up and do as much more as is humanly possible tomorrow night. Ick.

  • I have psychic influence over the Emergency Room at my hospital. Every time I let the thought, Gosh, I haven't been in the ER for a few days now, flit into my head they call me that day. Like today. 15 minutes after I was already supposed to have gone home.

Lyrics of the Day

"I smoke and I drink and every time I blink, I have a tiny dream." Ani DiFranco Grey

Theorizing

It seems that in Los Angeles, it is nearly impossible to meet someone in a bar and have it lead to anything substantial. In fact, in all of the years that I’ve lived here (Officially five on Saturday, if you can believe it), I’ve only heard of it happening two or three times. If anyone has been following closely enough, you may have noticed that I’ve given my number out quite a few times in recent months, and that none of it has ever come to anything. This has led me to observe bar interaction more and more closely, with the intention of figuring out just what the heck is going on here.

In other cities – notably New York – people can meet in a bar, strike up conversation, and end up with a love connection. In fact, my great friend Blondie met her fiancĂ©e in a bar in NYC. But this just doesn’t seem to happen in LA. Or it happens so rarely that it’s almost reached Urban Legend status for us Angelenos.

My theory is this: there seem to be two types of people that go out to bars looking to hook up. 1. There are the people that are hoping so desperately to meet someone that they will latch onto anyone that comes near them, get their phone number and call incessantly for a week afterward, until the pursued party finally gives them the boot. 2. Then there are the people that are just out to hook up; they hope to take someone home, have their fun and kick them out as soon as the sun rises. If you don’t want to go home with one of these men, you may as well never have existed in the first place. And almost everyone else is just out to have some fun with their friends and they aren’t looking to meet anyone at all.

My friend Red seems to have been exclusively meeting men from Category One lately. She is nice, strikes up conversation, gives her number and then is forced to endure a slew of calls over the following days. Eventually she becomes totally turned off (who wouldn’t?), and has to tell the man in question that she’s just not interested in something so intense. I, on the other hand, seem to only meet men from Category Two. Seeing as how I am not the type to go home and jump into bed with any cute guy that I meet at a bar, I’m destined to never hear from these gents again.

In this city that tends to leave its many residents feeling very isolated much of the time, we have somehow decided to make it even harder on each other by clinging to our own social circles and leaving narrow margins in which to interact with anyone else. It’s not something that I think can be changed by one little blogger in a huge dating pool, and I’m not one with enough energy to buck such social norms. So I’m resigned to continue kissing frogs that I meet online, in hopes that someday one of them will turn out to be a prince. Or at least someone I can tolerate for the next 30 years or so.

Lyrics of the Day

“You lay around so bored and you hit the bar at two, and you waste your time on girls, they know they're getting used.” The Good Life Drinking With the Girls

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Oops, I Did it Again

Okay, so I know it's almost a crime to use a Britney Spears song title as a headline, but in this case, it's really appropriate. The weekend was strangely full of repeat experiences, and the fact that I ended up over-doing it yet again is, in itself, a deja vu experience.

Friday night I met Red and a bunch of school friends at Barney's Beanery for some fun and catching up. At one point I ended up talking to a boy, he was sorta cute, but painfully young. I found out he had gone to high school in Montana (which is where I'm from originally, if I've never mentioned that before) and so we chatted about MT for a bit. But the longer I talked to The Youngster, the more intense he got. He was obviously hammered. He started moving in closer, and telling me I was the most amazing girl he had met, blah blah blah. I started to get annoyed, because I really hate being deified, it's one of my greatest pet peeves. Fortunately at that point, he excused himself to the little boys room and I made a mad dash for the rest of my friends. Strangely, a school friend (Big Bill) who hadn't even been contacted by our group showed up at that point. It was an amazing coincidence, and a great one too, because he's a really sweet guy and I had hoped to keep in touch with him. Then we all got back to hanging with each other and having fun. Later in the evening, a guy walks by me and he has the most amazing eyes. So I decided to tell him that, and he and his friend stopped to talk, and we ended up talking for the rest of the evening. They were Canadians and the friend knew all of the words to Under the Bridge in French, it was hilarious. Then it was time to go and The Canadian invited Red and me back to his house for some more drinks with a bunch of people. We considered it, but then there wasn't room in the car he was in, so I realized it was a much better idea just to go home. He insisted on getting my number (even though I knew exactly how this was going to go) and so I relented and gave it to him. Red and I took a cab back to the houses where we were crashing (I was staying at The Sister's because it's much closer to the bar). Nearly an hour after leaving the bar, The Canadian calls and asks if I want to come over. You've got to be kidding. I don't know if I seem like That Kind Of Girl, but I most certainly am not. Unless you're my boyfriend or George Clooney, I'm not leaving anywhere at 3 am to go meet you. Then The Sister gets home from work, and we decide it's a fabulous idea to go to Astroburger and gorge ourselves on greasy food. We were wrong.

Saturday morning, we got our butts out of bed and went to the beach with The Figa Master. Unfortunately, it wasn't much of a beach day - much cloudier and windier than expected. But we did find a great little breakfast place by chance and put some healthy food in our stomachs. Then we all separated to take naps and for The Sister to go to work. I went and had my facial, then met back up with The Figa Master for some sushi and a little Nacho Libre. If you haven't seen it, and you like the type of humor that was in Napoleon Dynamite, then I definitely recommend Nacho Libre. Although I was so tired I could hardly keep my eyes open, it was a high-larious movie.

Sunday, The Sister and I drove up to glorious Bakersfield for brunch with our grandfather. Our cousin who is a lawyer in San Francisco happened to be visiting as well, so it was fun to hang out with him too. We had a great meal and a really nice time listening to tales of family history. I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned it in this blog, but my grandmother passed away in March, which was really hard, but since then The Sister and I have been able to spend a lot of time with our grandfather and are really enjoying the close relationship that we now have with him. On the way out of town, we stopped at the mall for a little shopping, and had way too much fun. We got back into LA and split up to get ready for the evening.

* * *
It is at this point that things started to seem familiar. Adding an extra night onto my weekend ended up causing some strange form of weekend repeat.

The Sister and I were planning on going to see this 80's cover band, The Spasmatics, at a club in Hollywood. They play every Sunday night at midnight, and she's always wanted to take me. But unfortunately, none of the regular Spasmatics crew was available to join us, so we thought we'd play it by ear. We got ready to go, then decided to have sushi for dinner. I have no idea why I was craving sushi so much this weekend, but two nights in a row wasn't too much for me. The we drove back to her house and walked up to the Saddle Ranch, to visit The Bartender, who The Sister is now legitimately dating. We ended up having a few drinks there (which, without our knowledge, he was making EXTREMELY strong) and for some reason got hit on by two very crazy women. It was odd. But we had fun, then decided that we didn't feel like going to Spasmatics, and went to... Barney's Beanery again. So we walked there from the Ranch (it's really not that far). There was lightning in the sky, it was an amazing sight.

At Barney's, it was deja vu all over again. Who do I see, but The Youngster! And the funny part was, he started hitting on The Sister, and thankfully didn't recognize me. Next, we ran into Big Bill, making it twice in the same weekend at the same bar. When it was time to leave, he walked home with us. Again, against all better judgment, The Sister and I decide to get food. We go to the 24-hour Mexican place that is right across the street from her house, where we run to Rock Star, a guy that The Sister knows. At this point, we were all trashed, and Rock Star says, "Wait here, I've got something for you." We assumed it was a CD of his music or something, but he comes back with a bottle of wine. I have no idea why he had a bottle of wine in his car or why he thought that we needed it at 2:30 am, but it cracked us up. Then we went home and passed out. I think that I ate 3 bites of my burrito.

Yesterday, The Sister and I were totally worthless. We sat around all day and ate Thai food and watched cheesy movies. It was really nice to have an extra day off. But now it's Tuesday, and it feels like Monday, and my whole scheduling equilibrium is thrown off. Tomorrow night I'm going to meet Mr. Hawaii at Cat n Fiddle for a drink. Aside from that, I'm going to spend the rest of the week/weekend relaxing and sleeping and avoiding the impulse to engage in any more insanity.

Since I spent an unprecedented three days away from the blog this weekend, I figured I could get away with such a lengthy post. I also have a Rant coming on later today, regarding My New Theory as to why it is impossible to actually meet a guy in a bar in LA. It's something that I've been pondering in more and more depth since the beginning of all of this dating insanity, and I'm just now really starting to get it. I also need to check my Match and eHarmony accounts, as I haven't visited any of them since Friday either. *Phew*

Lyrics of the Day

"And now my door, it stands open, I'm inviting everyone in. We're gonna laugh, we're gonna drink until the morning comes. That's what we're gonna to do..." Bright Eyes False Advertising

Friday, June 23, 2006

And Now Back to Our Regularly Scheduled Programming

I tend to pull a disappearing act on the blog over the weekend, and so I will use that fact to justify my posting for a second time today, and the fact that this post will be a big one.

First and foremost, last night I went out with my NYC-dwelling friend Blondie and her fiancee, as they were both in town on business trips. It was a bit of a blogger-fest, as four of the five dinner participants are active bloggers (myself included!). I've already linked to them in the sidebar, but wanted to formally invite everyone to check out the following blogs:

TrailerSpy: Blondie's new blogging endeavor is just about to get off the ground, but is sure to be a lot of fun once it's up and running.

Geneve's Kitchen: Geneve has a wonderful passion for cooking, and has just added a video feature on her blog - it's so much fun, it almost makes me want to learn to cook.

Reemer: for anyone out there who can understand the mind-boggling technology behind this wonderful thing we call the internet, Kareem points out and discusses advancements and trends in the industry.

We had a ton of fun, both at dinner and drinks, but it kept me out WAY past my early school-night bedtime. I'm a little wonky from lack of sleep, but that hasn't kept me from diligently checking on my new internet prospects.

Mr. Hawaii is, indeed, back in the picture. He is pleased that I finally got back in touch with him, and we will go out next Wednesday. It almost makes me want to consistently keep someone waiting in the wings - just in case everything goes south like it did with Tall Guy. I'm actually particularly interested in going out with him because he's a writer. This blog has re-ignited my long burning desire to someday write something of substance and now I'm more interested than ever in talking to writers and seeing how people pursue the line of work. Don't get me wrong, I'm not going to quit my day job (or, it seems now, lose it!), but I do so love the written word.

I've also started talking to another boy on Match, we'll call AlienSpider. The name comes from the fact that he's an actor* and once did a movie about alien spiders. (A fact that he revealed in response to my stated love of spiders and all things creepy-crawly) He's from Kentucky and seems very sweet so far, and also thinks that I'm hilarious - which goes a long way toward winning my heart. I'm not sure if I've told you guys this: but I LOVE being told that I'm funny. I'm pretty sure that I'm not half as funny as I think I am, but if you tell me I am, I'll love you forever. I'm not going to rush into setting a date with him yet, because I don't want to overwhelm myself, but I'm fairly sure that I will eventually go out with him.

(* Yes, I know, I keep going back on my vow not to date actors, or even consider dating actors. But unfortunately, Match doesn't require members to list their occupation, so often I've already started communicating with someone before I find out the Ugly Truth. Also, the drama that can come from dating an actor could make very entertaining blog entries, so really, I'm doing it all for you!)

There are other prospects, on both Match and eHarmony, but nothing else is far enough along to comment on. The nice thing is that it seems that my revamped Match profile is attracting more of the kind of attention that I want, which is exciting.

Tonight, I am going to be hitting Barney's Beanery (the only real straight bar in West Hollywood, and a GREAT place to hit on cute boys) with Red and some other school friends. Saturday will bring beach time with The Sister and The Figa Master, followed by a facial (yes, I spoil myself sometimes), followed by some more quality time with The Figa Master on Saturday night. Sunday will involve a trip to Bakersfield to visit our grandfather and hopefully some type of fun on Sunday night - since I'm still going to have the rare pleasure of having Monday off.

Lyrics of the Day

"On this friday night, when the feelings alright, rockin rock steady grooves in the middle of the night. Everything is heated up and nobodys standing still." G. Love & Special Sauce Friday Night
___________________________________________________________________
My mood tonight is:

Manipulation

My mood today is:
____________________________________________________________
I'm not going to beat myself up for overreacting, because I'm pretty sure that I didn't. From all angles - and believe me, I examined each of them - my boss was trying to tell me that he wanted to give the job that I've been working so hard for to someone else. So I stewed and I ruminated and I agonized and I lost sleep. Finally I decided that I needed to share my feelings with my boss and plead my case one more time, before any irreversible damage was done. This morning I approached him, asked if I could talk to him in a little bit, and continued to imagine the conversation in my head until I was actually able to sit down with him in his office.

I'm not sure I would call it back-peddaling on his account, but the end result of that conversation is that my job is not actually in any danger. After my nervous statements about feeling like my hard work didn't mean anything, and that I didn't want to feel like I had to be in direct competition with my coworker - who could still use my help a lot of the time - he painted a very different picture than the one he had painted on Wednesday morning. My conclusion on the whole drama is this: he wanted to scare me, he wanted to make me question my status. I feel that somehow he had gotten the idea that I was becoming complacent, that I felt no true urgency to take the exam to obtain my official certification and that he needed to light a fire under my ass. By making me believe I could be displaced, he could make sure that I was really going to take my exam as soon as I am humanly able. Of course, this was always my plan - I wanted to take the exam much sooner than I am able to, but there are stringent requirements that must be met before I am allowed to do so. Once those requirements have been fulfilled (or close enough to be fibbed a little), I will take the exam immediately. I guess that the Boss Man just wanted to make sure that was the case.

I feel like I should be a bit pissed about this. I know that he was intentionally manipulating me to get what he wants. But I'm so overwhelmed with a sense of relief that I can't actually work up the energy to be angry about it. Suffice to say, that this LASingleGirl is going to stick around LA a bit longer, and hopefully will have many more tales of dating misadventure with which to entertain you.

Thursday, June 22, 2006

Less Than Full-Disclosure


Dear LB,
Here is your horoscope for Thursday, June 22:

You're all about living large, but your big ideas are constrained by some real-life concerns. Just remind yourself that less is more, because it is. Self-restraint is key especially when it comes to money matters.
__________________________________________________________________

I’ve been promising myself all day that I would stay away from this particular blog, because nothing that I have to say is happy or constructive or about dating in any way, shape or form. I have tried rather diligently in the course of this blog to Stay on Topic and adhere to my Mission Statement of chronicling my dating adventures. And yet, the most pressing thing in my mind at the moment not only has nothing to do with boys or dating or love; it has the painful ability to take all attention off of such pleasant subjects and focus it entirely on gloom and doom and self-pity and fatalistic visions of my now-cloudy future.

I’m being vague and evasive for many reasons. One is that this blog isn’t about my career (unless, of course, it’s about meeting a boy at work). Another is that blogging about work tends to get people in trouble. A third is that I don’t want to defame myself or anyone else professionally with my over-emotional, usually romantically-centered ramblings. Those of you readers who actually know me will have to bear with me in my avoidance of concrete statements – because the real truth is that this is a situation deeply in flux and giving out the details to anyone who cares to listen isn’t going to get me anywhere.

I’m worried that this probable professional set-back is going to kill all of the fabulous romantic and social momentum that I’ve been building over recent months. The Mother made a very important point on the phone today: that I have a complete inability to work at something without putting my heart and soul into it. I care very deeply about whatever it is that I’m doing with my life, and take limitless pride in the fact that I can do it dependably and well. And somehow, out of the blue, my dedication and loyalty and generosity are being thrown back in my face. I am being spit upon and possibly stabbed in the back and I just hadn’t even conceived of the fact that the world could really work like this (outside of the entertainment industry at least). Isn’t one of the tenets of The American Dream the ability to achieve one’s goal if one just works hard enough and exhibits enough skill? Where did the merit-based system go?

But maybe all of this is just like the world of dating and mating. Maybe sometimes, things just dissolve, no matter how well you’ve behaved. Maybe sometimes you get dumped for someone younger or more attractive or more willing to laugh at bad jokes or more connected to people that can get passed the right velvet ropes. Maybe sometimes, you can’t control everything, even when you’re the biggest control freak ever to attempt to gain a firm hold over the uncertainties of life.

Maybe I’m just going to tell them all to go to Hell and I’ll move to Hawaii and swim with the dolphins and marry a big, jovial Samoan man and live off of coconuts and poi for the rest of my life.

Lyrics of the Day

"And if I'm wasting all your time, this time, maybe you never learned to take. And if I'm hanging on to your shade, I guess I'm way beyond the pale.” Tori Amos Doughnut Song

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

New Roads?

Sometimes I get it into my head that I'm oh-so worldly/mature/self-aware/independent/knowledgeable/adult that I forget to step back and really evaluate my own thoughts and words and actions. Like when I'm being horribly judgmental of people that really mean no harm. Like when I become inexplicably jealous of The Sister's ability to light up a bar/party/social situation, instead of realizing the many unique abilities that I, myself possess. Like when I get cocky thinking that I know my place in the world, and in this city, and in my place of work, only to have everything thrown off-balance in one short morning.

And then everything gets thrown into stark reality when I find myself obsessively reading the blog of a woman who can express herself more fully and eloquently at 23 than I have ever been able to.

I'm not sure if I can adequately relate the things that are in my head right now, or if it's even worth trying. I'm suddenly realizing that the road map I've drawn of my life (albeit, inside of my twisted little head) could be completely wrong, something that will have to be taken back to the drawing board in the next 3 months and completely revised. Or maybe crumpled into an angry little ball and heaved toward the garbage can in a fit of juvenile dismay. Or maybe lit on fire, then set atop my head so that I and my ill-conceived life plan can go down together in a Blaze of Glory.

I can't get into details, and I really do hate to be so fatalistic, but I may end up losing the cushy full-timeness of my job in the near future, due to really crappy circumstances completely out of my control. And if this does indeed happen, I will not stay around this place to be treated like a second rate employee - which is, in fact, the opposite of what I am. I will actively pursue that thing that I have been wanting to do ever since I heard the opportunity existed when I was a mere student of my trade: I'm going to Take It on the Road. That's right, in a matter of a few months, should the winds of Fate blow against my present course, I will strike out from this humble town into a Brave New World. I may have to change my URL - how can one be lasinglegirl when one no longer lives in LA?

Yes, this is all very overwrought and melodramatic, but I'm just blowing off a little emotional steam. I really did get potentially bad news about my employment situation, and I really may have to consider a change in the near future. Just when I thought everything was so secure...

Lyrics of the Day

"I think I'll start a new life. I think I'll start it over, where no one knows my name. I'll get out of California, I'm tired of the weather, I think I'll get a lover and fly 'em out to Spain." Augustana Boston

P.S. The only bright side to come of this, is that I am going to have this coming Monday off of work - which means: Sunday Funday nighttime leading into Monday Funday daytime antics and debauchery galore!

How Not to Pick Up Chicks

I've been hit-on in many a way in my day - and seen friends and family members be hit-on even more often - and rarely have I been more annoyed with someone's approach than I was by Hollywood Poseur on Sunday afternoon. I hate being so judgmental of someone, but I was unable to detect even a hint of sincerity in anything that the guy said, so I can't really beat myself up too much for having such an adverse reaction to him.

First off, he let his friends Blue Shirt and Baldy do the major leg-work before attempting his own swoop. It felt a little like an ambush for some reason - like he knew he needed to let them go in first and grease the gears before he could try to make a move. Secondly, he made the exact wrong move by badgering The Sister and I about our tattoos. I think this passage from The Beach by Alex Garland, kind of sums up how we feel about explaining our tattoos:

"As she cupped her hands to cover the flame from the ceiling fan, I noticed a tiny dolphin tattoo half hidden beneath her watch strap. It seemed like a strange place for a tattoo and I nearly commented on it, but to do so seemed too familiar. Scars and tattoos. You need to know someone fairly well before asking questions."

I know the arguments. I put this tattoo in a place where people can see it, therefore I must want it to be noticed and commented on. Well, that's crap. People who don't have tattoos don't understand, but for me it's something I did for myself, because that's what I was feeling at the time and what it means to me is my business. And Hollywood Poseur seemed unwilling to let it go, until I pointedly changed the subject.

Of course, I changed the subject in the wrong direction, it seemed. I mentioned (while trying to nudge The Sister to get her attention) that we should be going, as we were heading to a barbecue (the plans changed when we left the bar, but at this point that was where we were headed). HP asked where the bbq was, and I told him it was somewhere in the south Hancock Park area. He said, "Oh, at Shane Black's house?"

For those not stuck smack-dab in the middle of Hollywood, Shane Black is a pretty famous writer/director/producer guy. For some reason, HP thought that blatant name-dropping was a good idea and that somehow that was going to impress my panties right off. I don't know if I look like I just got off the bus with starry-eyed dreams of "making it in Hollywood" - but I have been in this town much too long (five years on July 1) to be impressed with crap like that. I told him no, that we were real-live people, not Hollywood social-scene hipsters. After (I thought, obviously) striking out with me in two separate conversational attempts, he should have just given up. But, as I turned my focus toward the other two boys and The Sister to join in on their conversation, HP just moved in closer. He created a couple of pathetic excuses to make physical contact: touching my shoulder, leg, and swinging his arm around me without invitation, before I was able to grab The Sister and make a run for the door.

I guess the Moral of the Story is: if you want to pick me up in a bar, at the very least be sincere about it. And please, please don't start touching me unless I have indicated in some way, shape, or form that I find you attractive - or even interesting.


Lyrics of the Day

"No I don't want your number, no I don't wanna give you mine, and no I don't wanna meet you nowhere, no I don't want none of your time." TLC No Scrubs

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Out of the Frying Pan - Again

Okay, so now that we're all coming to terms with the fact that things with Tall Guy are kaput, I'm going to officially put myself back out there online. This morning I switched the matching function back on with eHarmony and I finally visited my long-idle Match.com account. I expect a frightening number of eHarmony matches within the next 24 hours, based on previous experience. On Match, I had a couple of winks and emails, mostly from men that are WAY out of my age-range. I don't think it makes me a snob to think that 46 and 26 is just not a compatible dating match. I did, however, finally respond to the last email from Mr. Hawaii, which was two weeks ago. If he doesn't respond, it'll serve me right for putting him off. If he does, then I'll have a Brand New Internet Date (imagine the shiny, flashing neon lights) to relate to you all next week. I also winked back at one guy that seemed like he might be interesting, but he doesn't warrant actual naming unless he writes me an email. I also revamped my Match profile a little, making it a bit edgier, a bit less of the usual sappy crap. I'm not sure if it'll make any difference, but I figured that it's worth a try.

I have to grace y'all with another quote from Adverbs today, because it's just a perfect quote.

"Love is candy from a stranger, but it's candy you've had before and it probably won't kill you."

This is how I'm feeling right now. Like I'm looking around for a stranger with candy, unsure if this is really something that I should be doing. I've been pondering my true feelings about relationships and commitment a ton lately, especially because of this here lil ol' blog, and I've come to no satisfying conclusions whatsoever. Part of me thinks that I could really use a regular kiss-and-cuddle buddy right now, and that there's room in my life for another person. The other part of me thinks that it's just too big a risk (see: completely devastating 3 month relationship with flaky actor at the beginning of 2005 that destroyed my sense of self-worth for 9 months). So yeah, the candy probably won't kill me, but do I really want to take the chance again? Maybe. Maybe not. Listen to me, I'm so indecisive.

Let's enter into that fabled land of TOO MUCH INFORMATION. A lot of my hesitance to really, truly enter into something with someone is physical. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not a prude and no one would ever call me frigid. BUT - there seems to be some sort of lingering baggage-y short circuit between the part of my brain that intellectually wants to jump someone's bones and the part of my brain that is willing to take steps to actually make that happen. I mean, I have plenty of desire to be close to someone physically, but at the same time, I can't imagine actually allowing anyone to get that close to me right now. This is a strange new development, which I have the urge to blame on aforementioned flaky actor ex, but it's causing quite a little battle in my head. I think that's a big part of the reason that I just suddenly stopped seeing all of the boys that I was seeing - because it was getting to the point where I would have to make crucial decisions about nakedness or break it off. I felt that there was more willingness in my sub-conscious to take those steps with Tall Guy, but things were derailed before I really got to test that theory.

I'm also considering jumping onto one more dating service online. It's one that I've done before, and I've mentioned the site quite a few times in the course of this blog, because I read the content almost every day. I'm speaking of Nerve.com, one of the best sites on the web, and home to a fairly interesting internet personals section. My eHarmony subscription is up in July sometime, and I don't think that I'm going to renew it at this point. I haven't met anyone on it aside from Tall Guy, and just don't feel like shelling out the cash to them again. Maybe I'll do it again at a later date, but for now I think I'll explore other options. Jeez, dealing with the dating services themselves is almost as bad as choosing dates! I have an old profile on Nerve, but I want to create a totally new one, and will probably get around to it in the next week or so.

Coming soon... My rant regarding Hollywood Poseur and why he's a really good example of How Not to Pick Up Chicks.

Lyrics of the Day
"I'm lost in my head, been thinking all around, I've gotta find the off ramp to my heart. Stop lights in a row, when all I want is go, drop it into first and I'll get home." Teitur Rough Around the Edges

Monday, June 19, 2006

R&R

I somehow managed to (mostly) stick by my guns this weekend and spent most of my time asleep or lazing about in the fabulous SoCal summer sunshine. I did not go out for social reasons either Friday or Saturday night, which was a really welcome break. In fact, I was just lame enough to fall asleep on my couch before 10 PM, not on just one of the nights, but on both. My mother would be proud. Saturday and Sunday daytimes were both spent with The Sister, hanging out at her fabulous little pool area.

Sunbathing beauties. Or at least, our toes .



The pool!







I managed to only fry one tiny part of my body, so the venture can be considered a rousing success. Who really needs the skin on their right shoulder anyway? In between sunnings; I caught up on a lot of TV watching, managed to skillfully avoid any and all housecleaning, got paged into work once (only once the whole weekend, it was a miracle!!), did 4 miles at the gym on Saturday morning, and spent the requisite Insane Amount Of Money that I always manage to spend when I foolishly allow myself to walk into Target.

Sunday, after the sunning and the page into work, The Sister and I decided to hop up to the Cabo Cantina on the Sunset strip for a quick happy-hour libation. We did this for multiple reasons: she had left her credit card there on Monday Funday, the always fabulous 2-for-1 margaritas (we like the Key Lime!), the chance to see and be seen by many a cute boy, and to show off the adorable new dresses that we'd both recently bought. We ended up being able to squeeze into a couple of bar stools (a feat in that joint, make no mistake) and ordered a round of margs from one of the greatest waitresses there. We chatted and suddenly there was our fabulous waitress, with a couple of margaritas that had been extras, since they were our flavor, she figured that we would want them. The Sister and I never turn down free drinks, so we were happy to help dispose of these extras. We ended up attracting a group of three guys, but unfortunately it went in the exact wrong direction. I had been checking out Blue Shirt Guy, so he and his buddy Baldy came over. The problem was, Blue Shirt liked The Sister, The Sister liked Baldy, Baldy thought he was too cool for school. Then Guy #3, Hollywood Poseur, came over and started hitting on me. He was neither interesting nor attractive, so I signaled The Sister that we needed to skeedaddle, and quick. (At a later date, I would like to rant about the pathetic pick up attempt that came from Hollywood Poseur and why it was so horribly wrong) So we made a run for it and went on to the Cat n Fiddle for a little dessert and Sunday night jazz with friends Kenny Flask and The Sister's girl Jam. Jam and The Sister stayed out late raising hell, while Yours Truly was a good child and made it to bed shortly after 10:30.

Where is Tall Guy in all of this, you ask? He's nowhere to be found. Obviously, we left it vague with the "talk to you soon" crap, so I never knew which of us was supposed to call the other. Or if either of us cared enough to do so. And it turns out, neither of us does. I should be more broken-up about it, considering how giddy I was about it in the early days, but I just can't bring myself to get worked-up. I knew last weekend that it was ending, so the date on Wednesday night was just a useless interlude in the middle of an inevitable fade-away. Once I work up the energy, I'm going to leap back into the Internet Dating Pool, and try to catch another interesting fishy. Although, I do have a little bit of annoyance lingering in the back of my mind. Why did either of us waste the damn time, if this was where it was all going to end up? Whose fault is it in the end? Can I please have all those wasted hours back?

Daniel Handler (also known as Lemony Snickett) has a new book out, called Adverbs. It has an amazing passage about just this sort of thing, that I feel I must share with you all. It's more about the end of a real relationship, but I've been obsessed with this sentiment for weeks now and I've been dying to add it to a post:

"And when the love is over, when the diner of love seems closed from the outside, you want all those hours back, along with anything you left at the lover's house and maybe a couple of things which aren't technically yours on the grounds that you wasted a portion of your life and those hours have all gone southside." Daniel Handler Adverbs

Friday, June 16, 2006

A Weekend Off

This weekend I am on-call for work, which means that I'm going to try to take a serious break from my usual weekend antics. I know that I've said such things before, but this time I mean it. You've all been fortunate to get to know me in this current stretch of friendly job scheduling. When I first started working full-time in February and March, I was so busy and stressed out and exhausted, I hardly left my house unless it was because I was on the way to the hospital. But since I've had some help join me here at my little lab, I've been able to take a step back and have this little social life that I've been telling you all about. But generally I am on-call every other weekend and at least two nights a week. Being on-call means this: I carry a pager (like some bad, early-90's drug dealer), I need to be within 45 minutes of my hospital, I cannot get drunk. So, for these reasons, my social life suffers a bit when I'm on-call. But this weekend, that's a good thing, because I need a real break from all the madness. I'm going to try to spend time outdoors (at the BEACH!!) this weekend, but I'm avoiding making any nighttime plans. Those hours are going to be for sleeping for once!


This is my Ghetto-fabulous pager. It's like having a leash that wakes you up at 1:00 AM, just for fun!

I got a comment on my last post about confronting the situation with Tall Guy. I totally understand where it is coming from, and I think that a week and a half ago, this commenter would have been right. But at this point this problem is that I'm not even sure if I'm that into him. I don't want to talk myself into anything that I'm not even sure I want. Plus, check out my Daily Romantic Horoscope:

Dear LB,
Here is your single's love horoscopefor Friday, June 16:
If a romantic situation's getting on your nerves, why not give it the heave-ho -- at least temporarily? The stars say you'll have more fun with friends right now anyhow. Relax and let it sort itself out for a bit.

If that's not a sign from the heavens, I don't know what is...

Lyrics of the Day

"And I want to be addicted, I want to be secure, I want to wake up after the night before. But do you ever get me?" Everything But the Girl Get Me

Thursday, June 15, 2006

Perplexed


It seems as if my feelings about Tall Guy create some nearly palpable cloud of energy around me, an aura if you please. And maybe no one else in the world can feel the vibe from this aura, but for some reason, he can. His response to the vibe seems to be an almost immediate u-turn and the urge to run for the hills.

I've just tried explaining this phenomenon, and the events of the date last night to The Sister, and it turns out that it's much harder to put into words that I had anticipated. But I'm still going to give it the old Girl Scout Try.

If you recall, as of yesterday, I had pretty much given up entirely Tall Guy and had reached a rather comfortable level of apathy about the whole situation. I wasn't sure what to think about the cheery, friendly message that he left me on Tuesday night, confirming the Wednesday date, but I chalked it up to good manners. We met for dinner last night at El Coyote before the concert at the Wiltern. He seemed genuinely pleased to see me and the conversation commenced smoothly. Things continued this way through dinner, giving me quite a lot to think about in the area of whether or not I was still going to be interested in him. We talked about some things that really gave me hope for our further compatibility, so that by the time we arrived at the show, I was pretty sure that I was liking him all over again.

Then his crazy-psychic-aura-reading kicked in. During the concert, and directly afterward, he seemed to be pulling back a bit, deciding again that he was uninterested. I could feel it happening and immediately started mentally kicking myself for having such a careless change of heart. There was some silence in the car on the way home (we had dropped my car off at my apartment after dinner and taken his car to the Wiltern), but it didn't seem all that uncomfortable. We talked about a particular band and he said that he would burn the album for me (which I assume means he's planning on seeing me again, right? Maybe? Who the hell knows??) When we got back to my place, I ran inside to grab some CDs that I had told himI would burn for him.

I came back out, thanked him for everything, then we leaned in for the goodnight kissing. I kept expecting to feel some sort of spark - some inkling of passionate chemistry, but I didn't really feel it. It's not that I'm not attracted to him, it's just that I'm not sure that spark is there. But I think that what's really bothering me, to be honest, is the uncertainty about it all. If I knew where I stood, or where he stood, or anything at all about standing in general - I think I would be able to stop overanalyzing every minute detail and see if there really is some chemistry there to surrender too.

I left it at, "talk to you soon." And I'm just letting it go. If he wants to hang out again, he'll call me. I'm tired of agonizing over it, so I'm just not going to. If he wants to react to every change in my interest aura, so be it. If he wants to keep seeing me, I'm up for it, at least for now.

*sigh* I told you it was hard to explain!


Lyrics of the Day

"Could I lie to you? I'm just too weak to face the truth. Now I know I should make a move, what more can I say? How can I fall, how can I fall, when you just won't give me reasons, when you just won't give me reasons at all?" Breathe How Can I Fall

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

One Last Time


So I guess the concert date with Tall Guy (he has now been demoted back from My New Boyfriend) is still on. He called last night to finalize plans, and for the first time, I intentionally didn't answer his call. I also waited until I was sure he wouldn't answer before calling him back.

I'm not sure if the blog narrative on the slow crumbling of this dating relationship has been clear enough, so I'm going to try to give a quick paraphrase on the happenings: we went on 3 good dates. We set up date #4. He had to cancel date #4. He slowly started pulling back, calling less often, being less considerate. We set another date #4. He cancelled date #4 again. We agreed to keep the long-standing concert date. That's pretty much it.

I spent the early part of yesterday evening sincerely hoping that he wouldn't call. At this point, I would really just prefer a blow-off to what is sure to be a really uncomfortable last date. But he called, and I feel like I have to go to the concert with him, since I said I would. This is actually so close to what happened with Cute Chinese Guy, it's almost funny. But I have decided that I'm going to have to get the balls to force him to have the balls to man-up and tell me that he doesn't want to see me anymore. Because I don't want to drag this out. And on the 1000:1 chance that he does still want to see me, well, we'll cross that bridge if we miraculously stumble upon it.

I've been jerked around before, endured sudden behavioral changes and sat around wringing my hands, hoping that things would change back to how they were before. But I've learned my lesson. When someone suddenly starts acting like they want out, or like they don't really like you all that much, that's what's going on. Let it go. Move on. So I am. Stay tuned for news of new prospects, correspondances and renewed giddiness.

Lyrics of the Day
"'But I,' said the bachelor to the bride, 'Am not waiting for tonight. No, I will box your ears and leave you here stripped bare.'" The Decemberists The Bachelor and the Bride

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

Not to Delight in Other People's Misfortunes

But, well, sometimes bad news for one person is good news for another.

There are not many attractive people in my workplace. I hate to disappoint you readers, but most hospitals do not have employees who look like the cast of Grey's Anatomy. (Except for Yours Truly) But, there are a couple of hotties hiding in the woodwork, if you know where to look. One of these hotties is an English gentleman who is a nurse on one of the patient floors. He's absolutely adorable, and has that to-die-for English accent. Brit Nurse has mentioned things about both a significant other and a son before, so I wrote him off as unavailable (but still VERY nice to look at).

Today, I ran into Brit Nurse on the floor and asked how he was, mentioning that I hadn't seen him in a while. He said that he had scheduled himself for only a couple of days last week because of the football games (it's World Cup season - for anyone who's not addicted to sports news radio like I am) and also that he and his girlfriend had broken up. I'm not sure if it's that we've always gotten along and I'm a good listener, or if (as my student hypothesized) he wanted to let me know 'cuz I'm so darn cute, but he proceeded to tell me the all of the heartbreaking details of the end of his relationship.

Obviously, I don't wish heartbreak on anyone, but from what he told me, he deserves better. Someone like me! Well, maybe that's taking it a little far, but it does give me license to turn up the flirting charm whenever I see him now. You never know, I could be the Rebound Girl that he's always dreamed of.

Monday, June 12, 2006

On to Sunnier Subjects




Each weekend, I tell myself that I'm going to take it easy and be a Good Child. And yet, somehow, I end up spending each Monday feeling like something that's been chewed up and spit out and stepped on a few times. I'm wondering if I'm ever going to keep that feeling in my head long enough to discourage myself from engaging in full-weekend binges of debauchery, or if I'm just doomed to feel like crap every Monday for the rest of my life. Either way, I had a stupidly entertaining weekend - idiotic boy-drama notwithstanding.

Friday night, I went out with some girlfriends to get my mind off of stuff and celebrate my ability to drink large amounts of liquor. Unfortunately, one of my girls had WAY too much to drink way too early and spent the rest of the night (and most likely the weekend) paying for it. The remaining trooper, Red, and I had a pomegranite martini or two too many and decided that it was a fabulous idea to traipse around Hollywood all night in 3-inch heels. In retrospect NOT such a good idea. But the two of us together are trouble and we managed to each pick up a bartender at a little lounge that is a favorite of mine. Then, I think that we took a cab back to the bar where we had started. We decided not to stay though, and commenced the walk back to my apartment. Then we somehow managed to pick up two more boys on the street! We topped off the drunken insanity by shoveling chili burgers into our faces at Tommy's (which was about halfway between the bar and my house) and passed out as soon as we got back to my house. My bartender ended up text messaging me on Saturday, but didn't actually ask me out - so I have no idea if I'll ever talk to him again or not. Which doesn't bother me, as I didn't even remember his name until he texted it to me! I am a BAD girl. The guy from the corner ended up text-stalking Red for 4 days before she finally told him to back-the-hell-off.

Saturday I managed to stay on the sober side of life - thank goodness. The Sister and I did some shopping, met our friend Kenny Flask (sometimes also known as Kenny Mimosa, Kenny Merlot, Kenny Awesome, and Kenny Boots) at his buddies' house for a barbeque, went to a house party in Pasadena, then back to the house where Kenny Flask and his friends were still knocking them back. The Sister had about 10 jello shots at the house party (they were weak ones though) and so I stuck with driving. Kenny Flask has been trying to set The Sister up with one of his friends for a little while now, and the guy was definitely showing some interest - which apparently only I noticed. The Sister was shocked when I told her - but the guy is way too much on the rebound for her to be interested right now. I fell asleep on the couch, which we took as a pretty good sign that it was time to go.



Yesterday is where things got really nuts. It was LA Gay Pride day, and The Sister and I were planning on meeting up with a gay friend to watch another friend perform in a dance thing. We were planning on just hanging out for a while and seeing the sights, having a drink or two, then going to Cat n Fiddle to watch the live jazz around 6:30ish. Things did not going according to plan. The Sister and I ended up staying in West Hollywood (the center of LA gay culture) ALL DAY LONG. We had so much to drink, and so much fun, it was ridiculous. I kissed gay boys and straight boys, watched people take body shots off of impossibly gorgeous bartenders, lost my sweater, somehow made it back to my sister's house without remembering a moment of the cab ride, and woke up this morning incredibly upset that it was Monday. I had apparently fallen asleep (actually, I think passed out is more applicable here) at the bar, so they put me in a cab. I'm sure I paid the cabbie, since he let me out of the car, but that's all I know. I vaguely remember struggling to unlock the door to The Sister's apartment. This was around 8pm. The Sister stumbled in around 2 am, so hammered that she was knocking things over. Apparently our gay friend had gotten so trashed that they got kicked out of every bar they went to. The Sister was wonderful enough to get out of bed this morning at 6am and drive me to my car, which was parked a few blocks away. I can't emphasize enough how early I'm going to go to bed tonight. But man, we had SO much fun. And this time I was smart enough not to wear heels. Plus I was given universally AMAZING reviews on my kissing, which was a needed bump up in my self-esteem. I actually was kissing this boy, who is not only an actor, but his creepy drugged-out identical twin brother used to live next door to my ex-boyfriend and sneak into his house and steal things. But it was fun and he was cute. I love and often can't believe what a strangely small town LA can be.

Lyrics of the Day
"So we buy a six; decide to split – she has a downtown apartment. She opens the door, falls to the floor, says, “I’m bitter sick of sweet and pure, take me now I’m yours.”" The Good Life Notes in His Pockets

He's Just Not That Into Me

I've been procrastinating this post, because I'm having a hard enough time accepting it and now I've also got to broadcast it to the world. I never really thought about how little fun it would be to deal with any form of heartbreak in such a public forum, and here I am, about to do it.

As you've probably guessed at this point, I did not see My New Boyfriend over the weekend. I did go out and drown my sorrows on Friday night (And managed to pick up a bartender! So at least this little drama isn't destroying the mojo I've been building up over the last month), which is an insane little story all its own. I'll post separately about my crazy weekend antics, so that we can stay on-topic here.

I tend to have very rigid ideas about etiquette and politeness, especially about such things as how to treat people that you are dating. I know that this world is full of people that do the Blow Off Thing and the Fade Away Thing, but I've resolved not to create bad dating karma in that way and I've been very good and honest with people. MNB apparently does not have such strict ideas about dating politeness. When you've made play it by ear plans with someone for a Saturday night, and you say that you'll call them on Saturday to let them know, you should really CALL THEM BEFORE 5:30 PM. What if I had really thought that we might go out, and was sitting around all day long, just waiting for him to call. My realistic "polite time" to call by would have been no later than 3:00. The dealbreaker time that I secretly held in my head was 5:00. He blew it all right out of the water by waiting until 5:30. I'm sure he's not intentionally being a dick, at least I'm trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, but that's just freaking rude.

Worse, the conversation that resulted from that very late phone call was awful. I had so much pent up frustration that I wasn't allowing myself to express that I didn't even know how to talk to him. I was also really bothered by the way he played it. He acted as if he was aware that what he was doing was rude, but didn't care one bit. He also acted as if it was a forgone conclusion that we weren't going out - that I was supposed to have already figured it out in all the time he gave me to think about it. Then he asks if I'm still up for the concert on Wednesday. I say (and yes, I was trying to be a little snide here) that if he thinks he has time for it, I'd still be up for going. He says yes, he's sure he will. So I tell him to call me in a couple of days for finalization - and then he says, "I'll let you know if anything changes." Right.

I'm not sure what it was that made him realize that he doesn't really like me, because I didn't do anything strange or different after the cancelled Wednesday night date. But no matter, because he's lost interest and there's not a dang thing I can do about it. I'm reluctant to even waste my time going to the concert with him, but I figure I'll just do it anyway on the off-chance that he'll realize how truly fabulous I am and propose marriage. If not, I'm going to try to force him to man-up and tell me that he doesn't want to date me, instead of avoiding the subject and slowly disappearing.

*sigh*

I wish that I had better news to give you all, but this is just the way things are working out. I should have warned everyone right off the bat that I have a pathological attraction to unavailable men, so chances were actually pretty good that this was going to happen. I'm just going to open my options back up again and continue The Search.

Lyrics of the Day
"Now there's no welcome look in your eyes when I reach for you, and now your're starting to criticize little things I do. It makes me just feel like crying baby, 'cause baby, something in you is dying." The Righteous Brothers You've Lost That Loving Feeling

Friday, June 09, 2006

Week in Review

I know I’ve been bombarding you with posts all week, dear readers, so here’s hoping for a busy enough weekend to provide us all with a little relief.

I finally connected with Cute Chinese Guy and gave the speech. It was even more awkward than I could have imagined. His reaction was to ask what the other guy is like. Who does that?? I stammered, I stuttered, I had no idea whatsoever how to react to that kind of inquiry. I said that we just really seem to click and tried to leave it at that. Was I supposed to gush to him like I’ve been gushing to you all? We left it at “keep in touch.” I feel both relieved and chagrined, which is to be expected.

Tattoo Guy called me yesterday. In most instances, when someone says “let’s be friends,” there’s a note of insincerity involved. But when I said it to Tattoo Guy I meant it, and I was actually pleasantly surprised to hear from him. He’s thinking of having a wine tasting at his place in a couple of weeks (did I mention before that he’s really into wine?) and will keep me posted. I’m not just giving lip service when I say that I hope he and I keep in touch.

Now for the Gloom and Doom portion of today’s report.

I have not yet heard from MNB. And the MySpace Stalking Bug has bitten me HARD. I just checked his page (yes, I’m silently self-flagellating as I type this) and he’s logged on today and yet – still no word. Am I to think that the date is off? Am I to assume that it’s still on? And last night I had a particularly terrifying thought: what if he was just mentioning that he had a party to go to – and wasn’t actually inviting me to it?? But then I, just this second, re-read the letter, and he explicitly invites me. So at least one little fear is assuaged. But that still doesn’t change the fact that I haven’t heard from him and it’s FREAKING ME OUT. I actually got up at 5 AM and went to the gym this morning, because I was too full of anxiety to stay in bed any longer. How nuts is that?

Some of me is saying: I should just suck it up and drop him another note – asking what time he wants to get together on Saturday. Part of me wants to play by the stupid Rules and let him contact me. Most of me wishes that I wasn’t obsessing over this so dang much. It’s just that I’ve decided that I really like him and that I’m going to give it a shot, and now I’m spooked. I’m especially spooked by the mysterious post-3rd date timing of the whole deal. All I can do at this point is hope that I'm just being a stupid "chick" about it and that everything will work itself out. But I'm trying to psychologically prepare myself for things to go the other way as well. A lot of what gets a relationship going in the beginning is momentum, and MNB and I lost ours when the Wednesday night date was cancelled.

UPDATE
Okay, so I broke down and did the chick thing and sent a little casual "what time do you want to get together tomorrow" note. He responded, not too long after, with a very suspicious "I just got a ton of work thrown on me and I'm not sure I can get together this weeekend can we play it by ear" email. This did not assuage my fears, it confirmed them. In my (albeit, probably paranoid) mind, not being able to make time on a weekend for a girl that you're dating means He's Just Not That Into Me.

On the off-chance that I'm wrong and he's not a jerk, and instead is just terrifyingly sincere, I sent him back a "of course I'm super-duper cool with everything see how cool I am don't you want to marry me yet" email. I told him to call me tomorrow and let me know. In my own head, I've already decided that he's going to be too busy, and that he's not very into me, just to protect my fragile little girl ego. I've got very fun back-up plans for tomorrow night, so I don't need him anyway. (so there!)

So at this point, it's a Wait-and-See situation. I'm going to go out tonight with some girls and drink copious amounts of alcohol and drown my sorrows.

Lyrics of the Day
"Memories. Light the corners of my mind. Misty water-colored memories, of the way we were." Barbara Streisand The Way We Were

Thursday, June 08, 2006

Gastritis

I have been playing phone tag with Cute Chinese Guy for two days. All I want is to give him the "I don't want to see you anymore" speech - and The Universe or The Cell Phone Gods don't want it to happen. It's bordering on giving me ulcers.

That's right folks, stomach ulcers. Just be glad that I went with the illustrated version.

I have a feeling that he knows it's coming. With the length of time that I waited to call him and the less-than-enthusiastic messages I've left, I think he's got an inkling. I still feel bad about it, but it's just what has to happen. Of course, it can never happen if I can't get him on the damn phone.

Lyrics of the Day

"How come you don't call me? Why, why must you torture me? How come you don't call me? " Alicia Keys How Come You Don't Call Me

MySpace Stalking Etiquette and Other Such Things

Yesterday, I silently humiliated myself by hunting down My New Boyfriend on MySpace. I know that there's a huge MySpace stalking culture out there, but I try SO hard not to do that sort of thing. But I knew that he was on, so I looked him up.

Fortunately for me, there were no scary surprises on his page. Mostly stuff I know, with a few more pics of him partying and such, letting me know that he's even more fun than he seems so far. But I was still ashamed of myself for doing it, and I swore that I wouldn't do it every single day like a crazy, desperate chick.

Today, I hop on MySpace (I had a reason, a super-scary reason having to do with getting a message notification from someone with a name resembling an ex-boyfriend), and am hopping around the site when I see that I have a new message, one that just popped up.

It was him.

He MySpace stalked me! This made me feel fabulous, of course, because it means that he intentionally hunted me down, just as I had done to him. He apologized for not calling me last night, as his work Q&A had ended late (I texted him when I went to bed and told him that I was avail for Saturday and to drop me a line tomorrow/today), and that his friend is throwing a party on Saturday and maybe we could grab dinner or catch a flick before if I wanted to...

Here's where I'm starting to be a real girly girl and am wishing that I still had someone else on the side to share the burden of my obsessiveness...

I wrote him back, and I didn't like the way I had worded the letter, but I sent it before it was too late. I know he was online long enough to read it (MySpace tells you when someone is online), but he didn't respond. I had enclosed my personal email address as well, just so he'd have it, but I didn't get an email there all day either. And he's now watching NBA Finals game #1 (I do so love that he tells me what he's doing, and we're only just dating - it's so cute!), and he hasn't called me. Should I worry???

And for that matter - do I send him a MySpace Friend Request? Deciding to be MySpace friends with someone you're actually dating is sort of a big deal out here in cyberspace. The Sister said no, and I'm inclined to agree. If he wants to friend request me, he can.

I'm almost positive that I'm getting all worked up for nothing. But I am getting all worked up, and I hate that. If I don't hear from him tonight, I'm going to probably have a conniption fit. Could there be a three date curse? (The Sister recently had an unfortunate ending to a three date run) Did I blow it with my stupidly worded MySpace message? At this point, if I haven't blown it already, I would actually be a bit surprised that I could do so that easily. But what if?

Lyrics of the Day

"Gonna follow you around, gonna wear you down." Badly Drawn Boy Everybody's Stalking

Off the Subject

This is completely off the subject, but I'm gaining an increasing appreciation and fascination for all things internet-related. One blog that I read regularly had a link to this webpage, it was started by a guy in NYC, trying to find his friend's lost T-Mobile Sidekick. The page has been up for only a couple of days and is now a phenomenon in and of itself.

Stolen Sidekick

I can't imagine how those hapless thieves must be feeling right now.

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

My Guilty Conscience

Tonight, I feel like an episode of Scrubs. All introspective and contemplative, but also just a little off-kilter.
I'm not sure if it's the combination of my Irish Catholic heritage and my Russian Jewish heritage, but I have one of the biggest guilty consciences this world has ever seen.
And tonight, I think I have much to feel guilty about.

One down and one to go. I just got off the phone with Sailor Guy, and I told him that I met someone that I think is more compatible with me and that I'm taking a break from dating anyone else right now. I felt like I was going to throw up while I was saying it, and the conversation that followed (all five or six sentences of it) was painfully uncomfortable, but I did it. Once again, I sucked it up and did the mature thing and told someone the truth instead of blowing them off. So I feel good about that much, but I still HATE having to hurt anyone's feelings. I have one of those personalities where I want everyone to like me all the time, and "breaking hearts" doesn't fall into the being liked all the time category.

I tried to call CCG as well, but his voicemail didn't even pick up. I figure he'll see the missed call and call me back. I have a feeling that it will be even harder to tell him, but I have a little more resolve since I was SO annoyed on our last date. Then I think I will feel a million times lighter, because it will all be done and I can go on to doing what I really want to do, which is focus on dating My New Boyfriend.

In related Guilty News, I'm not going to be going out of town this weekend. The Sister isn't able to make the trip to Morro Bay to visit our grandfather, and so, very guiltily, I am abstaining as well. The worst part is that I know some of the reason I'm doing so is so that I can go out with MNB on Saturday night. But there is some logic in not going: it's a 4-5 hour drive, gas is stupidly expensive and I'd be doing it all by myself. Plus it's going to be a crap beach weekend anyway. So we're hoping to reschedule the Morro Bay trip for later in the summer.

Will I lose sleep over all of this tonight? The sad thing is, I probably will.

my actual bed, where I will be not-sleeping tonight

Lyrics of the Day
"But then things got complicated, my innocence has all but faded. Oh, this mess I have made." Ben Folds Five Mess

Far Too Much Time on My Hands


As anyone who has been following this blog may have noticed, I've been having a little too much fun with it lately. I've had a bit of time on my hands to really explore the features available in the world of blogging, and I'm starting to really take advantage of it.

New to my blog here is the ability to subscribe, and get an email whenever I update. Some people (like The Sister) have expressly requested this feature, so I searched until I found one to accommodate.

Obviously, I'm also starting to go wacky with adding images - I'll try not to go too far overboard on it though. If things progress well in any of my dating relationships (I'll not jinx anything by metioning names, ahem, or pseudonyms), there could even be a real-life pic on here some day.

Finally, I've started adding easy reference links, in case you need a quick refresher on a person or event that I'm talking about in a current post. Hopefully all of these little things will make this blog more accessible and enjoyable for all who stumble across it and for those who read regularly. I had no idea that I was going to love doing this so much, or that I was going to make an actual effort to attract people to it - but here I am.

Also, some people have said they feel strange commenting on posts - but please, don't! I love the comments that I receive and always welcome more.

Happy reading!

Crushing Disappointment

The worst possible thing has happened.

I wouldn't have believed it could turn out this way.

I may just cry myself to sleep tonight.

My New Boyfriend... *sob*

My New Boyfriend has to cancel our date tomorrow night.

Okay, so I may have overstated the direness of the situation. But I am really disappointed. MNB has been roped into doing a Q&A type screening of the new movie his company is releasing and therefore must cancel on me. I understand of course, being the workaholic-in-training that I am, but I am still sad that I won't get to see him. On the slightly brighter side, he sounded pretty disappointed too. So we've penciled in Saturday night, in case I don't go out of town this weekend. (I may be driving up to the central coast to hang with my grandpa) I'll know tomorrow what my plans are so that I can know if I'm going to see MNB before our She Wants Revenge date next Wednesday.

*sigh* Boogers. I was really looking forward to tomorrow. Now all I've got on my plate is to break it off with Cute Chinese Guy and Sailor Guy tomorrow. But more on that then...

Lyrics of the Day
"Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me. While I'm alone and blue as can be, dream a little dream of me." Mama Cass (The Mamas & Papas) Dream a Little Dream of Me

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Unintentional Date

I just had one of the strangest lunch situations that I've ever had. I'll try to give some backstory, but it's hard to explain, so bear with me.

Yesterday, a coworker of mine knocked on the door of my lab. He's a Biomed engineer, which means he fixes all the important machines in the hospital, so we'll call him Handy Man. Handy Man says he wants to ask me a favor. Apparently his colleague, Mr. Fix It is in the army and is being deployed to Iraq shortly. Mr. Fix It has mentioned that he finds me attractive and so Handy Man thinks it would be high-larious if we set up a mock-date for lunch. Handy Man says that he and Mr. Fix It play jokes on each other all the time, and it would be great if I wouldn't mind going to lunch with them to help pull-off this joke before Mr. Fix It goes to war. He promises that there will be nothing weird or real-datey about it, and I make sure he knows that I have a man in my life. He's says it's all good. So, being the guilt-ridden Nice Girl that I am, I say okay.

So today I went on the "joke lunch datey sorta thingy" with Handy Man and Mr. Fix It. The problem is, I feel like the joke is on me. I don't know if Mr. Fix It got the joke. I don't know if he knew it was a joke. I'm not even sure there was a joke there in the first place. I'm not sure Mr. Fix It has any idea that I'm not actually interested in dating my coworkers (unless it's the really cute EMT in the ER) and that I am, in fact, already dating someone. It felt like a weird first date, but a menage a trois first date. Like I was supposed to be playing "get to know you" with both of them. I've never been so confused in my life. If Handy Man had just approached me and said, "hey, wanna go out to lunch with me and Mr. Fix It?" I would have been happy to do so. The fact that he made it some strange, covert action, that had no payoff obvious or otherwise, is what's bothering me. I'll ignore it, and play it cool and friendly, but I can't help but feel I'm being messed with for some reason. WEIRD.

As a sidenote: I was scrolling through some emails and looking at the "matches" that Match.com sends me (they're hardly ever anyone I'd actually be interested in, I'm really burning out on Match), and I am horrified to see another coworker among my "matches". Not only is it someone else I work with, but it's The Breather, a smarmy respiratory tech who asks me (and every other able bodied female employee) out a least twice a week. If he spots my profile and mentions it to me, or WORSE, contacts me - I'm fairly sure that I will actually keel over from excessive mortification. A girl can handle only so much.

Lyrics of the Day
"Everybody's working for the weekend. Everybody wants a little romance." Loverboy Working for the Weekend

Giddiness Ensues

I love being right. I had written before that I was hoping to regain my lost giddiness when date #4 with My New Boyfriend was on the books. And here I am, giddy like a school girl, waiting for my days to fly by.

I had told MNB that I was going to call him at the end of date #3 on Friday night. This is my new, and probably futile, attempt at Regaining The Power. So I called him on Sunday evening, on my way out to the bar, but got his voicemail - giving the damn power right back to him. But I had debated the "call or play it really cool" question, and decided that I didn't want to play it that cool, and risk perpetuating the pattern further.

He called me back last night - as I had hoped he would. He proceeded to ask me about each day of my weekend (which sounds little and stupid, but is one of those things that can impress a girl) and then proposed a movie for date #4 this Wednesday. That's right folks: we are entering Less Than a Week Between Dates Territory. Hallelujah!

We've agreed on The Breakup (a very datey movie, and he said that he knows people that have actually liked it) and will probably grab dinner as well. The Less Than a Week Between Dates thing tells me this: he likes me, he really likes me! I may be going out of town this weekend, but will know tomorrow if I am or not. If not, I'm really hoping that we could slide date #5 in this weekend, before the planned date next Wednesday to see She Wants Revenge at the Wiltern. We shall see, oh yes, we shall see...

Lyrics of the Day
"Put my arms around you, like I think you want me to. But tell me what you're thinking, I so often misconstrue." Nada Surf Treading Water

Monday, June 05, 2006

Inside the Confessional

Maybe it's the fact that I've spent only 2 of the last 14 nights at home, and my exhausted brain is slowly liquifying in my skull, but I feel the need to come clean. I've been ruminating on some things in the last couple of days, and I've just got to get them out into the open. Or I could just leave it be and count how many "mississippi's" it takes for me to explode.

One-mississippi

Two-mississippi

Three-mississip.....

Or maybe I'll go back to my original plan of just spilling it.

I don't think I'm very good at this whole dating thing. I mean, obviously, it's been an entertaining ride this last month or so, but something's been building. I'm spending more and more time on each date, wondering what the hell happened to all of my personal time. My house is a shambles. It was a major accomplishment just for me to wash the dishes last week. I haven't cooked a proper meal in longer than I can remember. I don't know when the last time was that I slept for 8 or 9 uninterrupted hours. This is all taking a serious toll on my sanity.

The other thing is, I've been preaching all this junk about keeping my options open, and not putting my eggs in one basket, and blah blah blah. But it's a total lie - and not even a good one if anyone has been reading closely at all. I've always been a one man kinda girl, and since meeting My New Boyfriend and realizing that I actually like him, I've really stopped giving anyone else a chance. I've been pretending to give Sailor Guy and CCG a chance, and in some instances I've even believed that I was doing so. But in truth, I wasn't. My attentions have been focused and they can't unfocus unless something goes wrong with MNB. I guess I should have paid more attention to the growing feeling of dread I experience(d) whenever the idea of getting physical with one of these other guys has popped up. Like the email that I got from Sailor Guy today, inviting me to a dinner/jacuzzi thing at his house this weekend. Such a sweet invitation - and if it came from someone else I'd be doing sit-ups and shopping for a new swimsuit right now. But with it coming from him, well, I just felt nervous and unenthusiastic.

I do need to interject that this is a particularly sensitive time in the lunar cycle for me, so I'm trying not to make any really brash decisions until next week, but I am leaning heavily toward cutting my dating roster down by two. But the other part of me worries, because MNB has been playing it SO cool that I can't even be sure he's hoping for things to go farther with me. And maybe I've been doing a decent job of playing it cool myself, and he has the same doubts. But maybe not. Would I regret dropping SG and CCG if things suddenly floundered with MNB? I don't know. I really don't.

So expect the entries this week to be a little lite on the dating action, and I'll try not to spend too much time belaboring my mental struggle. I've got to recharge and figure out what it is that I really think I should do next.

Wearing Out

The triple header was a TERRIBLE idea. I totally underestimated the physical and emotional drain of having to be polite and charming and “on” three nights in a row. I feel a bit bad about how that worked out for the Saturday night with Cute Chinese Guy, but then again, I think it was heading south on its own anyway. Here’s the rundown:

After staying up a bit late Friday night at Bodega, I had a terrible time sleeping on Saturday morning. I can’t seem to sleep passed 6 am anymore, because of this dang job of mine. So The Sister and I ran around all morning and afternoon, shopping and having sushi for lunch. I then ran home for a quick nap before the WeHo arts walk thingy that I was meeting friends at around 5pm. That was actually fun, and we wandered around Robertson Blvd. checking out high-end galleries and home-furnishing stores and filling up on free wine and margaritas. Everything that took place on Saturday, mind you, took place in the first real heat of the year here in LA – probably somewhere in the upper 80s in town.

From the art walk I went directly to dinner with CCG. We had decided to meet for Korean food in K Town before the concert, since it was in that neighborhood. I was already drained at this point, but trying to keep up my energy level. Neglecting to drink coffee turned out to be a big mistake. We sat, ordered food and drummed up some date conversation. (I apologize, I’m about to get bitchy, but I’ll explain why later) CCG asks ENDLESS quesitons, and ends every single one of them with the word “huh”. It hadn’t bothered me that much so far, but each time he said it on Saturday night, I found myself hating it a little more. Example: "This concert's gonna be fun tonight, huh?" "You really like to watch TV, huh?" "You're a very organized kinda person, huh?" That, coupled with this compulsive need to use everything I said to create some blanket statement about my personality in general was close to putting me over the edge.

Then we went to the show. By this time, I'm so tired that I can't stop yawning. Fortunately we had actual seats, so I didn't have to try to maintain an upright posture. Halfway through the show, I realized that if the situation were different, I would be worrying about the hand-holding dilemma. Remember going on movie dates in middle and high school and sitting there the whole time, wondering if you should be holding hands or not? I realized that the thought never even crossed my mind with CCG (MNB is a different story), and that I felt sorta guilty about that. But not guilty enough to do anything about it. I actually ended up dozing off a little during the headlining band, I could hardly keep my eyes open. Not that it wasn't a good show, I was just SO DANG TIRED.

We had taken seperate cars, because I was planning on still trying to make my friend The Republican's party, so he gave me a ride to where I had parked my car about a block and a half away. There was the obligatory goodnight kissing, which I was trying to speed through in the interest of not falling asleep at the wheel on my way home. Then he did this weird thing, where he put his hand on me, right in the area of my sternum. I didn't know if this was a water-testing pre-grope move or what, but that got me moving out of the car pretty quickly. I told him I'd give him a call.

Now I know that I'm coming across badly in this post, but there's a good reason for it. When I realize that something is not working with someone, I always start to nit-pick and find fault in them. I think it's just my psyche's way of distancing myself from a person so that I can be okay with breaking it off. So realizing that I'm doing that with CCG is telling me that it's time to end it.

Lyrics of the Day
"This is our last goodbye, I hate to feel the love between us die. But it's over." Jeff Buckley Last Goodbye