Missing in Action

I haven't meant to be away so long, somehow things have just snowballed for me in the last couple of weeks and my writing time is suffering greatly. I can't believe it's been nearly a week since I've been here. What have I been doing?

I passed my test. Well, not the whole test, because it's a two-part deal, but I did pass the first part of my test on Friday. I'm actually not as excited or relieved about it as I thought I would be, but I think that's because I'm still anticipating having to take the second part, which is going to be much more difficult and involve MUCH more studying. But it is nice to finally be on the road to being able to really get out of LA.

I partied like it's 1999. This weekend was chock-full of Halloween Party Goodness. I speculate that because last year was strangely bereft of good Halloween parties, this year everyone decided to throw one. I went to a haunted house / haunted cornfield on Friday night, followed by a Halloween party with My Husband. We ended up picking up Red between the hauntings and the party and the three of us raised some hell. My Husband had everyone doing tequila shots (except for Yours Truly, because I DO NOT do tequila shots) and he ended up with missing parts of his costume by the end of the night. Red hardly remembers being dropped off at home and barely made it to work on Saturday. Saturday night The Sister and I threw a pumpkin carving party at my place (I promise to post pics of our beee-yooo-tiful pumpkins this week), then Red and I hit one Halloween party, then hooked up with The Sis and her pals for another party. Unfortunately, I did not meet any eligible bachelors at any of these parties, but I did have a ton of fun. If you're wondering, I went as a late 1800's era prostitute, like Trixie on Deadwood.

I bailed out on football this week. I'm still a little ashamed of myself, but I was so tired and had been so social all week that I just couldn't stomach the idea of getting off my couch on Sunday. The Sister and I laid there all day and watched TV. It was fantastic.



By the way, Happy Halloween everyone! I probably haven't mentioned this, but Halloween is near the top of my favorite holidays list. I love to dress up, I love pumpkins and candy and haunted houses, I love scary movies. Tonight I think I'm going to go to Bodega (The Sister's wine bar of employ) for their Halloween gathering, then maybe hit up the crazy street mess that is the West Hollywood Halloween Costume Carnaval. Then, of course, I have to get myself home at a reasonable hour, it is a school night after all.

This Saturday, Red is throwing her birthday bash. My attendance at her bash last year is what really launched our friendship, and this year looks to be an even crazier day/night. I'm helping her set up and am in charge of decorations. Last year I also baked cupcakes and they were enough of a hit that I think I'm going to repeat them this year. This will be an all-day thing, from noon until people pass out, and it's going to be a blast. Last year I actually met a guy at her party and ended up dating him for a while. I'm fairly sure she's invited everyone in creation.

Two and half more weeks until I take my other test (I think). After that, I may just decide that it's time for another dip into that shark-infested dating pool that is LA...

Lyrics of the Day

"From my laboratory in the castle east to the master bedroom where the vampires feast, the ghouls all came from their humble abodes to get a jolt from my electrodes. They did the mash, they did the monster mash." Bobby "Boris" Pickett The Monster Mash

Misty and Watercolored

When I was growing up, we didn't have a lot of money. We wore second-hand clothing and shopped at garage sales and most of our groceries were of the generic brands. A particular thing that we ate a lot was fried bologna. Basically, you put a piece (or more) of bologna in a frying pan and cook it. Then you eat it. Mmmmm, yummy.

Years later, actually probably not that long ago, the subject of the fried bologna came up between The Sister and I. She revealed that she had always been convinced that we had to eat fried bologna when we were growing up, because that was all we could afford.

Okay, the budget was tight, but it wasn't like we were destitute. We never actually wanted for anything, we always had winter coats and Christmas gifts and plenty of food to eat.

I had to tell her the truth. The real reason that we ate fried bologna all the time? My dad loved the stuff. Frighteningly, he still does.

Occasionally I go home for holidays to the oh-so-familiar smell of fried bologna.

Lyrics of the Day

"Well I guess this is growing up." Blink 182 Dammit (Growing Up)

Patterns

Dear LB,
Here is your single's love horoscope
for Tuesday, October 24:

Couples celebrate anniversaries, and so should singletons. Why not pick an emotional landmark and pat yourself on the back for achieving it? Deciding not to date jerks anymore -- that's something to celebrate!

* * *

I know that I compulsively include my daily horoscopes here, but sometimes they just ring true enough to give me a good laugh. Today's definitely did - and I'm going to officially do that right now:

As of today, I, LB, officially decide to stop dating jerks!

Not that I've ever intended to date them in the first place, but I just seem to keep doing it. On top of that, I really think that I have to move on from the Los Angeles dating pool. There must be something about me, because no matter where I go or what I do, I attract actors. No one else I know has this type of problem meeting guys with normal-type career aspirations, but I can't seem to fix whatever the problem is.

Also, I wanted to thank everyone sincerely for all of your kind thoughts and words during the whole Irish debacle. It means more to me than you know to have people out there on my side.

On Sunday I was at Big Wangs (my customary football spot - as I'm avoiding Barney's Beanery and the possibility of seeing Irish for at least one week) with my friends, trying to focus my attention on two games since both of my teams were playing simultaneously. Very early on, a fairly good-looking guy was standing near my sight-line, but not in it. He asked if he was in the way, and I told him that he wasn't, everything was fine. About two minutes later he struck up a conversation with me which lead to the inevitable: what do you do? After answering and explaining myself a little (my job title doesn't have much recognition among non-healthcare professionals), I asked him the same

Actor.

Of course he was.

*sigh*

He didn't ask me out before he left (though he did stay through half of the afternoon game to talk to me), but he did ask if I was sure I'd be back next weekend. I said yes, knowing that I wouldn't go out with him anyway. Even if the fact that they're actors isn't the reason that all of my relationships in LA have ended badly, it's enough of a common thread that I need to eliminate that factor if I ever hope to break this pattern. Irish (during the 10 seconds that he was still interested in being involved with me) tried to argue the point that it's not being an actor that's the problem, that it has been personality problems with each of the guys that I've dated. (Yes, we went there, the Ex Talk, which is I place that I personally prefer never to go to.) At this point, I don't care if he's right, I just won't date any more actors. Period.

This week is a huge turning point for me though. On Friday I'm going to take the first test of the two that I need to pass to become officially certified in my occupation. Once I've passed both parts (I'm hoping to take the second part before Thanksgiving), I can finally start planning my escape. Except I already have, sort of. But we'll talk about all of that later...

Lyrics of the Day

"My own little world is what I deserve, 'cause I am the only child there is. A king of it all, the belle of the ball, I promise I’ve always been like this. Forever the first, my bubble can’t burst, it’s almost like only I exist." Guster Center of Attention

Leaving it Behind

On Tuesday night, in the heat of the conversation, it seemed so urgent, so necessary to convince Irish to reconsider. It seemed as if something so important was happening, and I was struggling to keep it alive.

On Wednesday morning, the loss seemed devastating. I was exhausted and beaten down; the light had gone out of my eyes. I plodded through the day, willing myself to concentrate, willing myself not to fall apart.

On Wednesday night I went home and opened a bottle of wine. The Sister came over and we commiserated and got emotional and reconnected in a way that we haven't been able to lately. I finished that bottle of wine and an episode of Grey's Anatomy and fell into a blissfully dreamless slumber.

By Thursday morning, the feelings that had been swirling around in my head since I met Irish were dissipating. He was fading quickly into that sort of hazy memory that all old dates and loves and acquaintances end up as. The ache that had bloomed in my chest late Tuesday night was barely more than a small twinge by the time that I got to work.

By Thursday afternoon, I was tired of talking about it. The Mother was the last person that I told the story to with any sort of lingering emotional attachment. Even then I was just worn out on feelings that had hardly had a chance to be there in the first place. There was still a small part of me crying out in indignation, crying out for the brief moment of hope that I had had, but that small part was crying out in a quieter and quieter voice.

This morning I jumped right out of bed when my alarm went off at 5:00 am. I dressed quickly and headed to the gym. On the treadmill I used every step of my three mile run to envision myself moving farther and farther away from Irish and the potential relationship that I can now see would never have been able to work out. I ran faster today than I have since I injured my leg back in August, and it felt better than it had in a long time.

Lyrics of the Day

"Well, the bells out in the church tower chime, burning clues into this heart of mine. Thinking so hard on her soft eyes, and the memories offer signs that it's over, it's over." Jeff Buckley Last Goodbye

Last Night

Well.

Crap.

I've been running over this in my head all morning, and I've seriously considered lying to you all about it, but I know that I've just got to be honest.

Damn it.

I spoke too soon.

I got my hopes up too high.

Last night was the first, and last date that I will have with Irish.

I consider myself to be a fairly intuitive person, but when I started feeling a change in his voice over the phone on Monday night, I wrote it off to nerves and paranoia. As I wrote yesterday, I knew that the moment I saw him again, things would become more clear to me.

They did.

But not for the better.

There was a distance there from the moment that he pulled up to my house. There was a vaguely uncomfortable peck hello, while I struggled to maintain my good mood and my optimism. I figured maybe he was just nervous and overwhelmed like I was and he was handling it differently.

In the car, my heart started pounding like it had done by the end of my three miles yesterday, and it didn't let up.

Over dinner, we started discussing relationships - those past and those possible. For some reason, I felt like there was something major at stake there, and my heart just kept pounding.

Back at my house, we watched a little TV, my heart racing the entire time. I kept waiting for something. I didn't know what, but I felt like there was another shoe that was going to drop and I was just waiting for it to happen.

Eventually, it dropped.

Boy, did it ever.

I'm not sure if I mentioned that he's Catholic, but it's that little fact that sent all my thoughts and hopes tumbling to the ground.

I wasn't being paranoid. Something had changed in him. He had made a decision, but was having a hard time admitting to it. He had decided that he can't deal with the fact that I don't share his religious convictions, and it isn't worth it to him to even explore what we could have had.

He even said it to my face, that he could see himself in a relationship with me, that it would be so easy. But he couldn't do it knowing that eventually the religion thing might get in the way.

Being the stubborn bastard that I am, I didn't want to give up. I tried to argue with him. I tried to reason. I tried to talk him into just giving it a chance. But it was useless. There's just nothing to do about it.

The only thing I have to be thankful for is that he did it now and he didn't drag it out for months until I was in way too deep, like The Ex did.

But now I just feel like I lost something. Well, not something, but the possibility of something. It feels sort of empty.

Waiting for Tonight

Well, it's official. Tonight, I have my first actual date with Irish, and I'm so giddy and excited about it that I'm nearly jumping out of my skin. This is a really nice contrast to yesterday, when I was so exhausted and over-worked that I could barely hold my head up by the end of the day. But I went home, talked to Irish, then went to bed before 7:30. I'm sure that I was fast asleep before the 8 o'clock hour even rolled around. Boy did I need that.

This morning, I got up at 4:45 am. I know that sounds insane, but meeting a new boy is extra motivation to hit the gym, so that was the first thing on my list today. Arriving back home after running 3 miles (I injured my leg in August and am still slowly building my run times back up), and hopped in the shower. I shaved my legs. I can't remember the last time that I had a date that was truly worth shaving my legs for, but this one is. I straightened my hair, glanced at my closet for any idea at all about what to wear tonight and ran out the door to come to work.

Now that I'm here, I'm just counting down the hours. There's just one little butterfly in my stomach about tonight. I find that when I meet someone that you really like, I'm always a little apprehensive about the moment that I see them next. Will he kiss me hello? Will we fall back into that fantastically comfortable place that we were in on Sunday night? Will he be as cute as I remember? Will he think I'm cute with my straight hair? I know that that one moment is all I have to worry about, I'm sure of it, because once that moment has passed, things will be like they were on Sunday night.

All of this brings so many things to mind for me. I keep thinking about the last time that I had an experience like this (The Ex) and how badly it turned out for me. I think about how much I've grown since The Ex, and how much more ready I feel that I am for a relationship at this point in my life. I think about the fact that I may have actually kicked my Unavailable Man habit, and that this could really go somewhere if all the preliminary signs turn out to be true. I think about how crazily perfect Irish is in so many ways, how he's got many of the qualities that I've always looked for and some that I think I look for subconsciously too. I think of all the people I know who met their mates in their later twenties or early thirties, and how things just happened for them and moved quickly and felt right. I know that I'm doing the traditional girl thing and thinking WAY too much about the future before I even know the guy; I also know that I will be able to keep some perspective on it and not jump straight into something with my eyes closed.

So please cross your fingers for me, wish me luck, say a prayer, send me positive energy. This could be the beginning of a something beautiful.

Lyrics of the Day

"At last, the skies above are blue. Well my heart was wrapped up in clover, the night I looked at you." Etta James At Last

Hail to the Redskins

Although the Redskins did not win yesterday (instead losing painfully to one of the worst teams in the league...), someone did.

Me.

I met a boy.

This is completely insane, because as you all know, I've been on total hiatus for almost 2 months now. I found out on Friday that I am eligible to take my crazy-hard professional certification exam and I'm taking it in less than two weeks. I had planned to buckle down and study my butt off for the next two weeks, then study for the second exam for two more weeks, then start formulating a plan to get the crap out of LA. And then, this.

I met a boy.

I actually originally met him two weeks ago at Barney's Beanery during a Redskins game. Actually, it was this day, but he didn't really try to spend that much time talking to The Sis and I, because we were being swooped on by the scummy guy from the aforementioned post. But as the game was gearing up yesterday, in he walks. I thought to myself that he was pretty cute and the three of us greeted each other as fans of the same sports team do - you can make friends very easily when united for a common cause. Eventually the boy, to be known as Irish henceforth, The Sis and I migrated outside to the patio, where most of the Redskins fans had congregated. We had a ridiculously good time, although many hearts were broken by the pathetic loss. We stayed at the bar much longer than we meant to, and finally around 3pm (we had arrived at Barney's at 9:30 am) we started heading out.

I went to hug Irish goodbye, but he aimed for a kiss. I thought that he was going to kiss me on the cheek and was fairly surprised when he landed a peck square on my lips. Surprised, but pleasantly. I had been feeling the chemistry, but wasn't expecting that at all. I thought that I would run into him again next week, and maybe things would go from there. I went to go to the bathroom before leaving and was surprised once again to find Irish waiting for me. He said, "So, what are you doing later today?" I told him that I was going to another bar around 5pm to watch the Denver Broncos play the night game with a crew of friends. I said that I'd be there the whole game if he wanted to stop by and hang out and he said that he would.

When he walked through the doors of Big Wang's (another sports bar where I watch football), I got really giddy. I realized that I actually really liked him and couldn't believe it. By the end of the night we were holding hands and touching legs under the table. When I asked him to drive me home, he was more than happy to do so. We made out like high school kids in the front seat of his car outside of my house for about 15 minutes before he suggested that we could hang out a bit longer.

Now, while I did not do anything entirely foolish or unladylike - I did not wake up alone this morning.

I have not had a boy in my bed in over a year and a half. I had nearly forgotten what it was like altogether. But let me tell you, it was more than nice to be reminded. I am falling head over heels into infatuation. I can't believe I forgot how amazing true chemistry really is.

Now, there is something that I haven't mentioned, but I think that it's best summed up in a Pros & Cons list about Irish. Here we go:

Pros
1. He's smart and adorable and funny
2. He's Irish Catholic and loves his family
3. He can sing
4. He loves many of the same movies I do, especially The English Patient
5. He works out at the same gym as I do (The Hollywood YMCA)
6. He lives fairly close to me
7. He has the same cell carrier, so we can talk for free
8. He's cuddly, and I don't mean that he's chubby
9. He shares my politics
10. He's a Redskins fan
11. He knows what it's like to sit down at a picnic table full of Maryland Blue Crabs and go to town
12. He's a real guy, he doesn't shave or wax or pluck anything that guys shouldn't shave or wax or pluck

Cons
1. He's an actor

That's it. It's the only one. And the chemistry is SO good, there's such a connection that I just don't care.

So it seems that I will have some stories to share after all...

Lyrics of the Day

"Are you having regrets about last night? I'm not, but I like rivers that rush in, so then I dove in." Tori Amos Sleeps With Butterflies

Lessons Unlearned

Last night I had a group of friends over for Monday Night Football. The Broncos were playing and nobody felt like braving the crowds in a bar, so I offered up my couch and my ESPN.

Of course, this guy is among the pals that I invited over. I'm finding that I'm at war with myself (again) over what to do with him. Obviously, I'm not going to date him. That, at least, is totally out of the question. I swore that I'm never going to date another actor, and I meant it. I really did. But the attention is really nice, and he's cute and well, I wanted him there. I actually sort of made sure that he would be on the regular invite list for our football watching from now on. What's the matter with me?

He ended up sitting next to me on the couch (it seemed intentional, but you never know with such things) and by the end of the evening, we were doing that funny, middle-school thing where your legs are constantly touching but you pretend that you're not paying attention to it. There was something dangerously, yet comfortingly familiar about it. It was like a cross between spending time with my closest guy friends (who are very physically affectionate) and being on a really good first or second date. Nothing at all happened at the end of the evening, but that feeling... I'm now cringing at the fact that I allowed myself to enjoy it so much and that I'm so attracted to him. Damn actors!

At some point in the evening, he made a reference about his brother - and I suddenly remembered a little fact that had slipped my mind. He's a twin. Does this have anything at all to do with the fortune that I was told last Thursday? God I hope not.

Lyrics of the Day

"'Cause the answer came, like a shot in the back, while you were running from your lesson; which might explain why, years later, all you could remember was the terror of the question." Ani DiFranco Marrow

Look Deep Into My Crystal Ball...

Today I was deciding whether to take lunch or see one more patient at work when I saw that the patient I had left to see was leaving her room to go downstairs for something. I thought that it was quite convenient of fate to make my decision for me and I stood next to her, waiting for the elevator. She was in a wheelchair (due to shortness of breath when walking, not an inability to walk), but was having trouble maneuvering it among all of the people getting onto the elevator. I held the door for her and made sure that she could fit in (I have a stalwart belief in elevator etiquette.). When the doors opened back up on the ground floor, I told her that I was going to help steer her out of the elevator, because she was turned so that her back faced the door. I helped her out and she thanked me and then I took lunch.

It was over three hours later that I was finally able to get back to her floor to perform her exam. Somewhere in the middle of the exam, she remarked that I had a great energy. I didn't think much of this, because I'm extremely congenial and compassionate at work, so people are so kind as to compliment my spirit/attitude/smile often. Then she said that things had been changing a lot for me in the past four months. I said, well, yes they had, but they had been changing almost constantly for a couple of years now. Then I realized what was going on. She was giving me a reading. I asked, to be sure, if she gave readings or if she just got general feelings about people. She said that she gives readings, then proceeded to give me one.

She said that there was a guy and my mind immediately went to The Ex, even though it's been such a stupidly long time since that brief and ill-advised affair. She said that he had obviously hurt me, and that I still had feelings for him, but that it was for the best that we didn't work out. That he wasn't a soul mate. Most importantly, she said that I need to let my walls down and learn to trust again. Belief in psychic powers or no, she really hit the nail on the head with that one.

She proceeded to say that she saw me meeting a man, a strong man. That it would happen when I'm a year or maybe a year and a half older than I am now. That I would meet him through a friend. I asked her if it would be in LA or somewhere else. She put her hand on my arm and asked if I wanted to leave LA. I said that I did, but that I also had a hard time thinking about leaving this job. She said one word to me, "Go."

(The last time I was given this advice, it was by a very dear friend and it was in response to the question of whether or not I should move to LA. He said, "Go." It felt true and I went and here I am.)]

She also asked if there were twins in my family, which there are. My mother's aunt had twins, twins and triplets. My patient said she saw twins in my future. A third child as well. (THREE?? I'm not even sure I want any at all?!) She said she saw happiness.

I thanked her and left with a greater feeling of general well-being than I had felt in a long time. Whether her perceptions mean anything or not, whether they're based on something she really sees or just a mishmash of guesses and leading phrases, whether any of that stuff ever really happens - that good, warm-fuzzy feeling was a gift in and of itself.

Lyrics of the Day

"I know soon you will be over the lies and you'll be strong. You'll be rich in love and you will carry on." Matchbox Twenty You Won't Be Mine

The [Long-Awaited] Update

I can't believe I've forgotten to post about this until now. Sometimes my brain just gets away from me.

After writing about Red's Big Internet Date last week, I didn't hear from her for a couple of days. Dying of anticipation, I called her on Friday to see how it went. I got no answer, so I left her a message scolding her for making me wait so long to find out what happened. I waited all night, but she didn't return the call.

Nor did she return the call on Saturday. Now, I can be a pretty Paranoid Polly and I start wondering, what if her internet date was the 1 in 1000 creepy psycho and he kidnapped her and is keeping her in an old barn in Ventura County or something?? I start musing on the fact that I wouldn't be anywhere on the contact list if something bad did happen to her. Who could I call that might know? Maybe I should start calling around to our school friends (that's how we know each other, we went to the same vocational training school). I don't know her parents' number, but I could try her work number if I really decide that I need to worry. But I swallowed all of my (probably silly) panicked thoughts and decided to give her a couple more days.

Sunday night, during those long hours that I lay awake in bed, my mind kept turning back to Red. What if something really did happen? This only served to give me one more reason not to fall back to sleep. I resolved to try to call her again on Monday, for surely she had to resurface sometime.

On Monday, she finally called me. Nothing at all had happened, of course. She had gotten busy after the date and then left town to climb Mt. McKinley over the weekend. I told her that I was starting to think that her date had run off with her and she was both amused and apologetic. Turns out that the date went really well. She liked the guy and found him attractive (a magic combination that I haven't experienced since Tall Guy) and they had a really nice time. She successfully survived her first Internet Dating Experience.

Lyrics of the Day

"I thought it was funny when you missed the train. When I rang you at home they said you left yesterday. I thought it was strange when your car was found by the tree in Ennis where we used to hang around." Dido Isobel

Nerve

Back to the question of dating on Nerve.com. It's hard for me to describe the way that I feel about reading the bloggers on Nerve. It's some kind of geeky fan-girl groupie gut-reaction. I literally fall in love with these people and with their stories. Their lives seem so far away, yet so close. The funniest thing (well, to me) is that I didn't even start reading the Nerve dating blogs until after I started writing this one. I would have undoubtedly been influenced even more by the style of the writers, so I think it's good that it worked out that way. Plus, those blogs are far less family-friendly than this one. And they're not anonymous, which is a little unnerving (ha ha, no pun intended).

Ever since becoming completely addicted to the Blog-A-Log (it's listed under my Blog links if anyone is curious), I've had a semi-secret growing desire to be one of their bloggers. I'm not sure if my life is racy or entertaining enough, or if I have enough to say that would interest the [ridiculously jaded] audience of the site. But I do really want to give it a shot. The problem is, I've dated through Nerve before, and the results were less than spectacular.

The first guy that I met was Computer Geek. I actually still refer to him that way, though it's not meant to be disparaging. He was very sweet and very intelligent. He wrote witty, well-composed emails. We had things in common. He was a video game QA guy (meaning he played video games for a living, testing them for bugs and such), and he rode a motorcycle. Unfortunately, when we met in person, it all fell apart. He was one of the oh-so-many guys that you can meet on the internet who are great over email but awkward and inept in person. There was nothing wrong with him, per se, but trying to carry on a conversation was excruciating. There were long gaps between subjects and I was constantly scrambling for new things to ask, new things to say. After two lackluster dates, we called it quits.

The other guy that I met on Nerve was The Philosopher. Again, wonderful over email, though there were tons of red flags that I knew I was ignoring when I decided to go out with him. He was significantly younger than I am (a bad pattern that I was finally able to break after things were done with him), he was barely out of college and just starting to find his way in the world, and he was extremely inexperienced in many, um, matters of the heart. We went on one date, where it was again revealed that I really get excited about guys who can write an email but end up being unable to participate in the kind of vocal sparring that I love.

I immediately developed a bias and assumed that it was the population of Nerve that was the problem, and not me. But in retrospect, I think that I may have gotten that backwards. You see, I never really actively pursued anyone on Nerve. I just let the few guys that were interested email me, and I responded. Nerve charges a fee on a per-credit basis, and I just never felt like spending the money. But I know that if I really do want to pursue the opportunity to blog for Nerve, then I have to get my hands dirty and my wallet open.

Lyrics of the Day

"So you just sit on your hands and quietly contemplate your next bold move. The next thing you're gonna need to prove to yourself." Ani DiFranco Your Next Bold Move

The Ultimate Question

I had thought today about posting a little diatribe regarding this strange-ish dream that I had last night, because it made me think a lot about my essential goals as far as a future relationship goes. But then, most fortuitously, a reader posted an inquiry on my last post:

"When are you going to go on more internet dates? I thought that was the point of this whole blog? You are talking about your past, and not going on dates. "

That's a question that I've been asking myself a lot lately. As I stated in an earlier post, I'm on a bit of a hiatus right now - for both personal and professional reasons. It's far more discouraging than most people know to go on unsuccessful date after unsuccessful date. I've had a building feeling that there really isn't a guy for me in the entire city of Los Angeles, and this most recent string of internet dates really made me think that I'm not making the feeling up. Plus, I was more than dissatisfied with my experiences on both Match.com and eHarmony. Match is full of game-players just looking for the hottest person available (I'm not going to say that I wasn't guilty of some superficial judgements myself) and eHarmony seems more populated with the socially-inept or the extraordinarily busy. In neither medium did I feel that I was making fair judgements or being judged fairly, nor was I able to feel like I could really convey who I am.

So this brings us to a bit of a stalemate. Am I going to go on more internet dates? It's been just over a month now since my last date, and a few days less since the last ill-fated correspondence was sent (the futile email to the vanished WY Guy). Have I been missing the dates? Well, maybe, just a little, sorta. Have I been relishing the extra sleep time? Hell yes I have. Do I have a terrifyingly difficult certification exam to sit for (and hopefully pass) in the next month, that I must pass to have all of my professional options open to me or to beg for a [hard-earned] pay increase? Yes, yes I do.

I want to date, I do. I don't want to give up hope on finding someone to keep me warm at night (on those rare nights in LA when it's cold enough to need someone). I also have a burning desire to apply to be a blogger on Nerve.com (which I've said about a thousand times, so maybe I should do something about it??). So I think that, in the near future, I will finally get myself back onto their dating site (which I haven't done this time around) and try to develop some material for this blog and also for said application to blog for them.

Lastly, yes, this is a blog about internet dating. But it's also a blog about me. It's something that I use to sort out my thoughts, to keep up with my friends, to focus my often-sporadic urges to write. I'm just sharing here people, because I love doing it. The dating thing was mostly an excuse to write.

Lyrics of the Day

"And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd, 'cause these words are my diary screaming out loud, and I know that you'll use them however you want to." Anna Nalick Breathe (2 am)

There May Be Some Hope Yet

Yesterday, my usual crew of football friends was AWOL, so I nearly bagged the idea of watching my game altogether. Fortunately, The Sister gave me a ring at the exact right moment and we decided to go catch the Redskins / Jaguars game at Barney's Beanery. I don't know if it's the fact that I wasn't with any other guys (I'm usually with at least one during game days), or if the atmosphere at Barney's is just different from where I usually watch but it ended up being an immensely entertaining social experience.

While I didn't actually get any dates out of the afternoon, I did have some faith renewed in the existence of football-watching-beer-drinking-hairy-legged Real Men in Los Angeles. I talked to one guy for a while who was really sweet and I think that he wanted to ask for my number but couldn't work up the nerve. The Sister and I both got hit on by a guy who was quite cute, but then we realized that he was one of those slimy guys that does little other than try to hit on anything with female DNA. Our friend, who was bartending, confirmed our suspicions when he pulled The Sis aside and told her to watch out for him and that he was a scumbag. Shucks. We also made friends with some of the other Redskins fans there and I realized that there is little that can bring people together faster than the shared love of a sports team. We cheered, we communed, we yelled at the television, we screamed like crazy when the Redskins scored a touchdown. Of course, the whole thing was made much more perfect by the fact that we won in OT.

Then, for some reason, last night I didn't sleep. I woke up around 1:30 am and found myself completely unable to get back to find my way back to dream land. I turned on my iPod (I love to listen to audiobooks as I'm falling asleep) and just lay there for 4 hours, unable to sleep or get comfortable. Even worse is that the book I'm listening to is a Stephen King book and I had this strange sense of unease that made me unwilling to have any of my body parts outside of my covers. I can't explain the weird rationale that seems perfectly logical at 2:00 am; in the light of day I know that I was being silly, but last night I just couldn't bear to have my arms hanging out in the open. I don't know if the book (being completely riveting) made the insomnia worse, or if it just gave me something to do, but I finally ended up dozing off for about 30 minutes just after 6:00 am. Today, I feel like I'm in some surreal limbo state. Everything is hazy and my eyes burn and my heart beats too fast. I've been staring at the screen now for a while, and I'm having very little luck making anything as witty or interesting or coherent as I would like to, so I think that I'm just going to give it up for the day.

Hopefully tomorrow I will return after some serious sleep and be my bright-eyed, bushy-tailed self again.

Lyrics of the day

"Now I lay me down not to sleep, I just get tangled in the sheets. I swim in sweat 3 inches deep, just lay back and claim defeat." Barenaked Ladies Who Needs Sleep