My First Time

Way, way back in 2003, around the time that I met The One That Got Away, I had my Very First Internet Date. As I mentioned previously, I had just broken up with the Speed Freak and I decided to give internet dating a try. I posted a nice little add on Craigslist and received a mountain of replies within hours. I was completely overwhelmed and had no idea how to narrow them all down. I also made the mistake of using my AOL email address as the "reply-to" and ended up with a couple of IM stalkers for weeks later. (Believe me, I wised up quickly and ended up creating a specific "internet dating" email address.) Somehow or another, I eventually narrowed them all down to a slew of guys that I thought seemed worth meeting. Pictures were exchanged, then telephone numbers.

I can't remember whether the first guy I went out with was chosen as the first for a reason, or if it was just how the timing worked out. In my foggy retrospect, I think that it must have been a coincidence, because I know there were other guys that I was more interested in that I ended up going out with later. Actually, now that I think of it, I jumped RIGHT IN to the dating. I scheduled myself a double-header on the very first day.

My first suitor was Good On Paper Guy. He wrote well, seemed intelligent and nice and was a Psychologist or the like, working in a mental care facility. He seemed to be very into what he did (which I was incredibly interested in, and here I am 3 years later in the healthcare industry myself) and I really admired it. But the first red flag came with the first phone call. I gave out my home number instead of my cell, so that I couldn't be endlessly cell-stalked if any of the guys ended up being creepy, and GOP Guy called when I wasn't home and left a message. It wasn't that the message was bad, or that he said anything inappropriate - it was just, well, he sounded like Keanu Reeves.

Ted "Theodore" Logan

In person, GOP Guy was much more like an airheaded surfing frat guy than he was like an intelligent medical professional. All of his stories involved getting in trouble with his buddies or his frat brothers. In person he didn't seem to have any reverence at all for his career choice, it seemed that he was just in it for the money and the job security. He was also incredibly into his car, which is something that I understand but I don't really find attractive in a prospective partner. I like shiny, pretty things too, I just don't need to have that much focus on an inanimate object. (Unless, of course, you count my collection of TV on DVD.) All in all, we just weren't a match. But I still felt that it was a successful first internet date because he didn't kidnap me and take me home and tie me up in his basement.

The second guy that I went out with that day was Boston Guy. In real life, I actually still refer to him as Boston [Insert first name here] so I figure I have no choice but to call him Boston Guy here. I had met GOP Guy for an early afternoon coffee and was meeting BG for a later afternoon coffee. It was a good date, I really liked him, but we didn't go out again because I first met TOTGA and then got back together with the Speed Freak. But for some reason, BG stayed in my life. We kept in touch a bit and eventually ended up hanging out again about a year later. That was another good time, actually it was sort of an amazing evening of soul-baring, but I could never tell if he had any romantic interest in me at all. Now I hear from him every 6 to 12 months. He'll suddenly pop up and ask me how I've been and say that we should get together. I say that I'd love to and then he'll drop off the face of the earth for another 6 to 12 months. I've given up on him

I can't explain why it is that I wasn't initially freaked out by the idea of internet dating. My friends and family surely were. But to me it just seemed like another thing to do, something new worth trying. Unfortunately, that first round of dating was by far the most successful. I haven't had an experience that compares to it yet.

Lyrics of the Day

"And it feels like the first time, like it never did before. Feels like the first time, like we've opened up the door." Foreigner Feels Like the First Time

Another One Bites the Dust

Last night I was laying on my couch, preparing to catch up on a little TV before heading off to bed at [the obscenely early hour of] 9:00 pm when my phone suddenly rang. It was my friend Red, who I had just spoken to on Monday and wasn't expecting to hear from for another few days.

Red: "You have to help me."

Me: "Of course honey, what's going on?"

Red: "I'm about to go on my very first internet date!"

Me: "Holy crap!"

You see, Red is just a little bit older than I am and had yet to give in and jump on the Internet Dating Carousel of Fun™. But at some point this summer, she decided to give eHarmony a whirl. She had met a few promising guys, but then started dating someone that she met offline. That relationship just came to an end, so she thought she'd check in on eHarmony world and lo and behold: there was a guy that she wanted to date just waiting for her to say the word.

She filled me in on all of this on Monday, so naturally I figured that there were still a few days for her to relax before she would have to bite the bullet. Not so. He called, they scheduled, he was on the way to her house at that very moment.

Me: "Just be yourself. It's just like talking to a guy in a bar, except you know a little more about him. And you're really good at talking to guys in bars. You're my hero."

Red: "I've just never done this before. I'm so nervous!"

Me: "You'll be fine, just ask him questions and don't talk about yourself incessantly and if it clicks, it'll click."

Red: "Oh my gosh, hang on!"

She clicked over to the other line, presumably to hear that her date had arrived.

Red: "He's here! Here I go..."

Me: "Good luck!"

She promised me an update, hopefully today. I'm not sure that I even remember the very first internet date that I went on... no, wait, yes I do. But that's a story for another day...

Lyrics of the Day

"So special, but it hasn't happened yet. You are gorgeous, but I haven't met you yet." Bjork I Miss You

Points to Ponder

While in Bakersfield over the weekend with my family, I had the chance to ponder a lot of different things.

1. Do half of the residents of Bakersfield even know that there are mountains surrounding the town? With all of the dust and smog that get sucked into the valley, it's often hard to tell.

2. Do people who go to County Fairs ever have all their own teeth? Judging by the foodstuffs sold, I find it doubtful. But then again, I have to admit, a deep-fried Oreo does have its charm...

3. How does anyone resist a petting zoo? I got to pet a zebra. And a miniature horse and a cow and some goats and a pot-bellied pig and...

A llama! (Llama face! *sob*)

4. Does riding rickety carnival rides (like The Zipper, an all-time favorite) ever lose its charm? The Sister and I may have been the oldest people in line for said Zipper, but we enjoyed it just as much as all the teenagers. Maybe more!

5. Would my life be drastically different if I had never left the small town that I grew up in, or if I had moved to another small town instead of to LA? Bakersfield has an, um, interesting mix of people, but I noticed that there were nearly as many young couples running around with wedding rings and strollers as I saw when I was in Bozeman in August. It just seems that people couple much more quickly in a smaller population, but I wonder if that bug would have bitten me any sooner. I use my inherent nature, pickiness and independent personality to justify the fact that I'm still single in my mid twenties - but is that just an excuse for the plight of the modern urban woman?

Honestly, I don't think so. I think it is something inside of me that just doesn't want to settle down and pop out some rugrats before I'm able to really grow up and see the world and know myself. I'm thinking more and more about getting out of Los Angeles and travelling, and I couldn't do that if I was tied down to a family.

Lyrics of the Day

"'How did it go so fast,' you'll say, as we are looking back. And then we'll understand, we held gold dust in our hands." Tori Amos Gold Dust

Armpit of the State

Lovely readers, I am going to have to sign off for the weekend a little bit early this week. I'm heading to glamorous Bakersfield, California for a weekend of family fun celebrating my grandfather's 86th birthday. Or, as he likes to call it, the beginning of his 87th year.

For those who know nothing about Bakersfield, you can visit the official website here, or you could just watch this video and find out what Bako is really all about...



Have a fantastic weekend everyone, and I'll report back on Monday.

Lyrics of the Day

"I've done a thousand miles of thumbin'. I've worn holes in both my heels, trying to find me something better on the streets of Bakersfield." Buck Owens Streets of Bakersfield

Lights, Camera, Action

Last night I went to the premiere screening of my friend Flip's new movie. It's not his first movie, but the first major release where his acting talent is really showcased. We had a nice crowd: myself, Flip's parents and brother, a few of his other friends, his roommate, and his third grade teacher. Flip invited his third grade teacher because she was the first person to ever give him an acting role. If that doesn't break your little heart, I don't know what would.

Strangely, even after all of my years in the entertainment industry, this was the first large screening of this type that I had been to. It was surreal on a lot of levels. I sat there in the darkened theater, slowly getting sucked into the world of this movie (it's of a genre that I am a complete sucker for), yet knowing that that guy on screen is one of my dearest friends and sitting just a couple of seats away. I mean, I've seen him on screen before, but this was just somehow more real. Flip was fantastic, by the way.

After the film there was a cocktail reception downstairs. No longer having any desire to be a Hollywood schmoozer, I found the elbow-to-elbow crowd intimidating. But I managed to hang in there, have a couple glasses of free wine and chat with Flip's family and some of his friends that I don't know very well. Two of the friends are very cute and I've met them on previous occasions. What do they do, you ask? Actors.

I don't think I can stress enough what a problem this is for me. I have been burned so badly by actors in the past that I no longer have any desire to date another one as long as I live (with the exception of George Clooney, of course); yet I can't seem to find myself attracted to anyone else. I have got to start finding new places to meet people. Some people just do it so easily, case in point: Flip. He went to Armani to get fitted for a suit to wear to the screening and landed himself a date with the girl that did the fitting. Just like that. Abracadabra.

I did, however, receive a marriage proposal yesterday. I would be seriously tempted to accept if it weren't for the following complications: 1. He's a doctor at my hospital 2. He has children that are older than I am 3. He's had a heart transplant, but even the donor heart is nearly old enough to be my father 4. He's 75 5. I have no desire to start being referred to as Anna Nicole Smith.

But hey, it's a step in the direction of my goal of marrying a fantastically successful dermatologist and living the rest of my life as a kept woman.

Lyrics of the Day

"What I give to you is just what I'm going through. This is nothing new, no no, just another phase of finding what I really need is what makes me bleed." Damien Rice Volcano

Woo Hoo!

Blogger has repaired the problem that made original Blogger users unable to comment normally on Beta Blogger blogs and vice versa! This is so exciting, because I've seen my comment traffic drop drastically since switching over to Beta. But I still want to feel loved!

So, comment away y'all - everything should be acting as normal from this point on.

Deja Vu

My Husband isn't the only man from my past who has popped up suddenly in the last month. For some reason, when it rains - it pours.

The first person to try to contact me was the most offensive. It was the person with whom I made that catastrophic mistake that I mentioned in the story about My Husband. The Mistake and I did not talk after the mistake was made. For two blissful years, I got to pretend that he didn't exist. Then, for no apparent reason, I start receiving text messages from him. I thought that it must be a mistake - that he had sent out a mass text and didn't really mean to send it to me. I am of the opinion that you should delete someone's number from your phone when you have a catastrophic experience that causes you to wish that person had never existed. But I guess The Mistake doesn't live by the same code that I do. Even more shocking was the personal phone call I got a couple of nights later, him acting as if nothing had ever happened. Like we'd just "lost touch". I was perplexed and felt even a little guilty for not responding until I got the text that revealed what I had suspected: he wasn't trying to get in touch with me to catch up. He's taking a stab at promoting for a trendy club in Hollywood (presumably due to the fact that his acting career must not be going well) and was looking for anyone anywhere who could help him fill the space. Mystery solved, guilt abated.

The next one in line was My Husband, but you already know that story.

The most recent (and most destructive) contact was from The Ex. I don't know if I've mentioned him yet in this space, but he was someone that I dated about a year and a half ago. It was short-lived but deep, intense and devastating. Six months after we broke up, I got in touch with him with the vain (and yes, pathetic) hope that he would have realized his mistake in walking away from what had seemed like a promising relationship. He hadn't. Yet he continued to email me updates and forward jokes and such until I wrote him back. I explained that I had thought I was ready to be friends, but that I was mistaken. The communication ceased for a while after that, but started back up some time last year. He had decided for some reason to put me on his mass-email list but never sent me personal emails, so I refused to allow myself to think that they meant anything. I also didn't allow myself to respond, thinking it was just better to let sleeping dogs lie. Then he was sent out of the country for the larger part of this year by the Air Force Reserves and I received his updates about his travels, but continued to try to ignore them and felt somewhat relieved not to have him in the greater Los Angeles area. Apparently he's now back in town, because on Friday night I received a text message from him, imploring me to go see his new theater show with the group that he performs with.

Now, I realize that this was another mass send-out, and that he's not contacting me personally. But seriously boys, can you learn to delete phone numbers from your phones?? And what gives them the right to clog up my cell with text messages, which cost money? Shouldn't berating my AOL inbox be enough?

I don't know if it's that I haven't had an actual relationship (or really even a significant romantic connection) with anyone since The Ex or if it's some other reason, but there's this tiny, stupid, worthless part of me that wants nothing more than for him to turn back up some day and say that he was wrong and stupid and that he can't live without me. But I'm not holding my breath.

Lyrics of the Day

"Oh, when the day is blue, I'll sit here wondering about you and how the pollen fell all around your face in strange yellow patterns. But I wasn't prepared for this." Eisley I Wasn't Prepared

Cycling

Alright, here goes try #2 on the end of the whole mess...

At some point, My Husband and I got back into touch with each other. I don't remember exactly how, but I'm sure it had something to do with a function involving one of our mutual friends. Things started out fine, seemed normal and continued that way for a few more months. Yet somehow, with every gesture and every action, MH made me feel more and more beholden to him. He babysat my cat over Christmas and picked me up from the airport. He took me out to extravagant dinners and to Disney Land and to Magic Mountain. He helped me get a job while I was in school and negotiated a great hourly wage for me. I never asked him to do any of this, but I did accept it when offered. I'm sure that I should've turned most of it down, but I really suck at saying "no".

Then the inevitable happened: we had another huge fight.

Unsurprisingly, we didn't speak for a few months again. Then again reconnected through a mutual friend's function. We were right back to Square One all over again. But that wasn't the last time - oh no. One more cycle happened and ended with a period of silence that lasted nearly 6 months.

Obviously I've belaboured the point. But I'm not sure this series of fairly tedious entries even come close to the real tedium that's been endured over the ridiculous cycles of this friendship. There's always been a lingering sense of guilt in all my interactions with or thoughts about MH, whether or not we're talking. I've felt guilty for ways that I've treated him, indignant for assumptions he's made about me, and exhausted by the constant back and forth of things. I was pretty sure that our last fight was our last, and more than a little relieved by the thought. But, you see, there is a point to this lengthy narrative.

I've begun hanging out with My Husband again.

Lyrics of the Day

"Now you say that you like me, but you don't "like-like" me. You say that you love me but you're not in love with me and we should just be friends." The Vandals The New You

Snafu

I wrote this whole post today about the end of my My Husband story, but my evil dial-up internet ate it. I promise to try to recreate it tomorrow.

Damn it.

Regression

At some point, I started to handle my relationship with My Husband like a grade-school girl. I think that I reached an extreme level of discomfort without really allowing myself to admit that I had. I began to cringe any time he complemented me (Although this is something that he did often, and not always in the most appropriate of ways. He'd say things like, "Damn, you look good in that shirt." in this lascivious tone that I can't convey in words.), I began to react with a violent "NO!" when people asked if we were romantically involved. I started feeling horrible about the fact that he just kept paying for everything and for the fact that I let him help me out so much (not monetarily, but through friendly favors and gestures). I began to hate the familiarity with which he addressed me and the way that he acted like he knew me oh-so-well. I now know that part of that has to do with my general fear of and discomfort with intimacy in general, but some of it was quite specific to MH.

Of course he noticed. Of course it hurt his feelings. But I was too selfish and too dismayed to pay much attention to how my behaviour and the relationship in general were affecting MH. At some point, it must have been too much for him, because he blew up.

We were on the phone, I remember that I was working at Starbucks at the time and I was talking to him in the back room just before my shift started. This was only 6 weeks or two months after the debacle with the secret-telling. I can't remember at all what set him off, but he just started laying into me. He said that I was inconsiderate, that I treated him like crap, that I was disrespectful whenever we were in public. I was indignant; I got defensive. I see now that he was half-right. In the light in which he envisioned our relationship, I was being disrespectful. But in my head, I was just treating him the way that I treat my other guy friends. Flip and The Figa Master don't get offended if I'm checking out other guys while we're hanging out. They don't get mad at me for mingling in a social situation instead of focusing all my attention on them. But My Husband did. Although he knew that I wasn't interested in him romantically, he still wanted to simulate a relationship when he was with me.

Neither of us had any interest in trying to understand the other's viewpoint. We both believed that we were right and we were the one that was being wronged. I think that we both said, "Fine," then hung up. We didn't speak again for nearly three months.

Lyrics of the Day

"This will all fall down. Like everything in the world, this too must end. And all the words we said we can't take back." Matchbox Twenty Last Beautiful Girl

Catching On

I can't pinpoint the moment or the action that finally brought My Husband's feelings for me into focus. Maybe I had known it all along and I just shoved it into the back of my mind most of the time. When I go back over it all in my head, I can think of a thousand Red Flags. I can think of a million moments that I probably should have gotten it, or I should have reacted differently, or I should have seen all of the drama coming. But I didn't. I really enjoyed the time that I was spending with him. We were becoming very close; I was confiding in him and he in me. Maybe that was the thing that pushed it all over to the wrong side...

I had a romantic encounter with someone very inappropriate at one point, and it had a very negative effect on my life. It caused a remarkable amount of drama for a couple of weeks, before everything blew over. I was horribly ashamed of myself for getting into the situation so I wasn't sharing it with many people, but I did share it with some of my closest friends. I didn't realize what a mistake I was making when I told My Husband about it - but I realize now that it may have been much more of a catalyst for later strife than I have really considered before.

I was in the 99 Cent Store, buying things for the apartment that I had just moved into. I was on the phone with MH and for some reason thought that this was the time to come clean on the recent trouble. I expected the kind of reaction that I would get from any of my other friends - something along the lines of, "Damn, you're a moron." But I didn't. I got silence. Then he rushed off of the phone and didn't call me again for days. He didn't react like a friend hearing about a stupid mistake that I had made. He acted like we were married and I had just told him that I cheated on him. Not only was I disturbed by the reaction, but I felt sort of betrayed by it. I had trusted him with many of my deepest, darkest secrets and he had never abandoned me before. But now, he just disappeared.

A few days later, he apologized for the reaction. But I think that the damage may have been done. I started to realize that he didn't think of me in the same way that he would think of other friends. I started to see that he didn't want me to behave with him the same way that I would have behaved with any other male friend. I started to get uncomfortable. And I think that's probably when I started to handle the whole situation really poorly.

Lyrics of the Day

"One false move and a secret prophecy. Well, if you hold it against her, first hold it up and see that it's one side stone, one side fire, standing alone among all men's desire." Suzanne Vega Knight Moves

The Married Life

Alright. I guess it's time to tell the story of My Husband. I've been debating about this post for a week or more now - mostly because I know that I'm going to get yelled at. But, as usual, I'm going to come clean. If I don't, then what's the point of this little exercise?

(A preemptive apology to SJP is required here - I did not take your advice. If I live to regret it, you are quite welcome to say "I told you so." I have a million reasons for not taking it, although I know that I'm probably just banging my head against a familiar wall in the end.)

Let me first explain the nickname, as it has nothing to do with an actual romantic relationship between My Husband and myself. It all began because The Figa Master has a female friend that he refers to (quite ironically) as his Wife. He likes her and enjoys her company, but she has feelings for him that extend beyond their friendship. Although she is aware that he doesn't reciprocate, she still treats him as much like a Significant Other as she can get away with. Upon learning about this, I thought that was such an apt name for her - and that it applied in the same way to My Husband, hence the nickname.

Back in The Day, I worked with My Husband at an entertainment company (the same one where I met the fabulous SJP). Throughout the time that we worked together, we were friendly but not close. When I left the company (to go back to school), I was also moving out of my apartment. MH had mentioned that he used to be a mover back in college and offered to help me move. That was really the beginning of it all.

I've tried on many occasions to figure out how this friendship really happened and how it has managed to go so wrong, so many times. The problem is that MH really likes to drink, and I'm a very impressionable, innocent young girl (but you all knew that). So much of the time that we've spent together is a bit clouded in my memory. This is not to say that there has been any inappropriate conduct, because there hasn't. That's the one place where my conscience is clear.

We began hanging out quite a lot. I was on the rebound from the Speed Freak and in the middle of starting a new life. MH was excited to find a new activity partner, because we share a lot of the same interests. We went to movies, we went out to eat, we sat in front of the TV and drank and smoked and debated books and sports and politics. He helped me move twice within two months. He insisted on paying for everything. He called me at least once a day. He masterminded the surprise party that was thrown for my 24th birthday. And somehow, all of this time, I was able to persuade myself that this friendship was kosher.

Lyrics of the Day

"She says, 'Space is not just a place for stars. I give you an inch, you want a house with a yard.'" The Good Life Album of the Year

Are You Ready For Some Football?

During this most recent slew of internet dates I lamented many times about the fact that I can never meet guys that actually like sports in LA. I don't know what it is about this town, but it's like a giant magnet for all men with metrosexual leanings. It makes a "real man" (or what I like to think of as a real man) seem like a needle in a very well-groomed haystack. It's been a problem for me, especially as a woman who genuinely enjoys many of the activities that "real men" are supposed to be fanatic about. At the top of that activities list? Football.

I grew up on football. My parents (yes, The Mother as much as The Father - and maybe more) are big football people. Every weekend during the season when I was growing up was filled with hoots and hollers and howls directed at the TV screen. As kids, The Sister and I dreaded it, knowing that we would be unable to either get our parents' attention or to have any use of the upstairs television on Sundays for months on end. But as I got older, I began to see the appeal. Over the years I began to enjoy it more and more, until I became the fan I am today: someone who loves to watch football and gets so caught up in it that she herself can be heard hooting, hollering and howling at the TV screen.

Sunday was the beginning of what promises to be a fantastically entertaining football season. I have an ever-growing group of football-watching friends and a great local bar (with cheap beer! in Hollywood!) to watch the games at. And best of all - I have the promise of many, many weekends to come being surrounded by droves of "real men".

Now if only the Broncos can keep possession of the ball for more than a minute and a half next game, I'll be set.

Lyrics of the Day

"I wanna try to drink my weight in beer. I wanna be a high school football hero. Wanna score a touchdown so I can score after the game." A.F.I. High School Football Hero

Play It Again, Sam

I just got back from a barbecue party at a friend's house in the Valley (the San Fernando Valley if you non-Angelenos want to get specific). The friend, I can't even think of a good name for him, is an old one that I sort of knew in college and have become better friends with while living in LA. We both love football and good music, so we get along well.

At this bbq, I reconnected with a very sweet guy that I met with the same group of people during football season last year. We were just chatting away, and I was thinking about how sweet he is, and how he's sorta cute. And he's a Montana-type boy (from Wyoming, went to school at Montana State) so he's even more appealing. We talk more, he moves in closer, starts touching me, makes me laugh. Then he does the number one thing that is virtually guaranteed to melt my heart: he notices my ever-morphing eye color. I know that sounds stupid, but the Speed Freak (during our entire relationship) could never tell you what color my eyes were. And here this guy is, noticing right off the bat. I start thinking, gee you're really cute. And then it happens.

He spills the beans.

He's an actor.

Why, OH, WHY!?

I have got to get out of this town.

Lyrics of the Day

"Your dreams of acting on screen, what do they mean? You'll be dancing senseless in your bedroom. And you'll find yourself out of a job and before too long you'll be selling lemonade to the overpaid." The Stills Still in Love Song

The One That Got Away

I have a firm belief that every person has a sob story about The One That Got Away. Unfortunately, it's usually not that they actually got away, it was that they were unceremoniously tossed out and the tosser lives to regret it. With my complete lack of dating success lately, I've thought more and more about The One That Got Away (TOTGA), and wished that I could turn back the clock and give that one another go-round.

[Cue the wavy flashback music, or if you like, imagine Wayne and Garth waving their hands and going "doodleedoo doodleedoo"]

Long, long ago when I was a younger and more foolish person (or, as some would call it, my early twenties), I had a boyfriend. This boyfriend was pretty much a disaster all around: as a boyfriend, as a roommate, as a functioning member of society. I know that I've given him this name before, but I can't remember which blog I did it in, so this boyfriend was the Speed Freak (so named because of his fondness for the prescription drug Adderol, which is like Ritalin for grown-ups). The Speed Freak and I had a very tumultuous relationship and we were constantly breaking up and getting back together. After a particularly messy break-up, I decided that I needed to get right back into action and start dating other people. I needed to get my mind off of the SF and onto someone new. So what did I do?

That's right! I tried (for the Very First Time) internet dating! It actually makes me laugh now after this sad, sad round of dating, that TOTGA was someone that I met on the internet.

At this point, internet dating was becoming more widespread, but was nowhere near the creepy mainstream thing that it's become with the growing popularity of Match and eHarmony. I decided to take a chance and post a personals ad on Craigslist. I probably ended up going out with about 12 or 15 guys that had responded to my ad, and overall it was a really good experience. Unfortunately you can't meet normal guys on CL anymore, so don't even bother. After placing my ad though, being the fickle girl that I am, I also proceeded to read ads that guys were placing. Most of these ads are terribly creepy offers of "generosity" for a "discrete" young girl who would like some "fun" with a "distinguished" gentleman. Ick. But...

One day I stumbled across this ad that spoke to me. It was an astoundingly well-written plea for a girl who was: down-to-earth, normal, lower maintenance, not afraid to get her hands dirty. I thought wow! this could really be me, so I took a chance and answered his ad. The response was quick and the spark was immediate. We emailed constantly for nearly two weeks, exchanged pictures, talked about everything. Finally, we set a date. We met for dinner at this great Brazilian restaurant in Hollywood (he lived there too, and geographic desirability is a big deal in LA) and I could not have been more pleasantly surprised. He was tall, far better looking than his photo suggested, and just as good in person as he was over email. We drank wine, we ate, we talked, we clicked. We had an incredible goodnight kiss leaning against my car, which was parked right in front of the Wendy's at Sunset and La Brea. I went home with stars in my eyes and butterflies in my stomach. TOTGA and I continued the emailing the next day, when he proposed the second date: cooking dinner at his place. I was so excited, and knew that things were going amazingly well. Then, it happened.

The Speed Freak called me. He begged forgiveness. He told me he loved me. He told me he couldn't live without me and that he had been an idiot. He cried. I put him off, I told him it was too late, that it was over, but the seed was planted. I started thinking about him again. I started remembering the good times, how much I cared for him. I started having doubts about staying broken-up.

That's when I did it. The dumbest thing that I've done in my dating life to-date. I broke it off with TOTGA. I told him (before that magical second date could happen) that I wasn't ready to move on, that I had an ex that I still had feelings for. He was upset, he felt misled (which he wasn't wrong about), he knew what I did not: that I was making a Huge Mistake. But I did it anyway. Although I started to regret it almost immediately, I went back to SF and suffered for another 6 months before we ended it for good.

I tried to keep in touch with TOTGA, which I realize now was also selfish. I was hoping to back-burner him in case the SF fell through again. We emailed half-heartedly a couple of times, enough for me to find out that he ended up getting serious with the next girl that he dated. About a year later, long after the drama with SF was over, I tried to email him one more time. I apologized for my deplorable behavior and hoped that he would reply that he'd never stopped thinking about me and then he'd propose marriage and we'd live Happily Ever After. Sadly, I never heard from him again. He truly Got Away.

Lyrics of the Day

"Tell me, tell me that your sweet love hasn't died. Give me, give me one more chance to keep you satisfied." Willie Nelson You Were Always on My Mind

It's a Small World After All

More often than you would think, I have occasion to stop and wonder, how the hell is a city the size of LA so damn small?? Saturday night was just one of those occasions. I went to the Cemetery Screening with a bunch of friends, which is something I've only started doing this year. It's a ton of fun, and one of the few really community-type events that you can do in Hollywood. Basically you get a blanket and some food and some booze and sit in the middle of a cemetery (No, no on the graves, in a large grassy non-grave area) and watch a movie that's projected onto the wall of a big stone building.







Before you enter the cemetery, you stand in line out front and some people get there really early - the earlier you get in line, the better your blanket spot can be. We got there about 30 minutes before the gates opened, which wasn't nearly early enough, even on a holiday weekend. What they do to ensure enough room for a long line, is they wrap the line around, snaking it back and forth across the lawn in front of the cemetery entrance. So if you see someone you know in line, you're guaranteed to cross them over and over again as the line empties in to the cemetery.

We had been in line for about 20 minutes when it started moving. We picked up our gear and moved along with everyone else, chatting excitedly about life and the evening and all the different types of people that were there. That was when I looked over and saw him.


Tall Guy.


I looked away as quickly as I could. Then I proceeded to behave like a 2nd Grader for the rest of the time in line, purposely avoiding any possibility of eye-contact. Things just didn't end on a comfortable note, and I had no desire to make the obligatory small talk with someone that I barely even got to know. I know that's fairly pathetic, but I just couldn't do it. Even though, by the end of it all I wasn't interested in him anymore, my pride was still a little bruised by the encounter. For those who haven't been reading all along, he was the only guy that I've met during these little adventures that I was actually interested in - which of course meant that he was completely unavailable. I'm over it, but I also see no reason to go out of my way to talk to him again. So I didn't. I took the immature route out. Just like he did, when he communicated his lack of interest in me by never calling again. So I figure that we're even now.

Lyrics of the Day

"If we meet on the streets someday, and I don't know what to say, look away, baby, look away." Chicago Look Away