Leaving Los Angeles

I've been threatening this for months, dear readers, and I do not issue idle threats (well, except for the other times that I threatened this, which was pretty much constantly for the past 4 years or so). Although it is going to be the scariest thing that I've done in quite a long time (even scarier than internet dating!), I'm going to say goodbye to LA.

Today I gave notice at my job, though I'm not going to leave until the beginning of April. I wanted to give them 6 weeks notice so that they have ample time to find and train my replacement. This place has been incredibly good to me (for the most part) and I have no desire to walk out on them and leave them in the lurch. In two weeks I'm going to give notice at my apartment building, with the intention of being out of there no later than April 15 (though it'll probably be about the 9th or 10th when I actually leave). Hopefully in three or four weeks I'll know for certain where exactly I'm going to be travelling to for my first assignment.

Assignment you ask?

I don't think I've explained this to you, but here's how things are going to go: with my occupation, I can get a job with a company that works with travelling professionals. Basically the company has contacts all over the country and they send their employees to these sites to work temporary positions, generally for 13 weeks at a time. The company pays for travel, an apartment, weekly per diem allowances, car allowances, insurance and a 401K. I pay for anything extra and my cell phone bill. Yep, that's about it.

This is something that I've wanted to do ever since I found out that it was something that I could do, way back when I was still in school. I had planned on going almost immediately after my graduation, but I got hired on where I've been working and it was too valuable an opportunity to pass up. But I've finally grown far too weary of living here (and even more so, grown weary of missing out on what could be out there for me in the rest of the world) and I put my foot down and told myself that I need to get my ass in gear and get the hell out. So I'm getting my ass in gear.

I have no idea what the future will hold for me. I'm hoping that my theory about my dating problems being linked more to the population of men in Los Angeles than to my own issues and shortcomings will be proven true. I'm hoping that I'll fall in love with another town eventually and find myself a place to settle down and someone to settle down with (eventually). I'm hoping that I'll make enough money to pay off my crappy student loans in a timely fashion and finally be able to purchase a rental property and then a house of my own. I'm hoping that I'll learn more about my job and myself and the world as I travel around, being thrown into one completely unknown situation after another. And in between I hope to spend some time with my friends and family in Montana, travel to visit friends around the country and maybe even pop my head back into LA every so often to see the people that I love that will still live here.

Let the countdown begin!

Lyrics of the Day

"We'll blow away forever soon and go on to different lands. And please do not ever look for me, but with me you will stay and you will hear yourself in song blowing by one day." Suzanne Vega Gypsy

My Married Boyfriend

Did I get my Valentine's Day wish?

Nope.

I was called in to work at 1:30 am. So much for the belief that Cupid could be on my side. But it's Friday and I have a weekend off in front of me and a Game Night tonight with some wonderful girls, so I'm long past needing to complain about it too much.

Waaaaayyy back in September or so, I met a guy during football at Barney's. I could have sworn that I wrote a post referring to him, but I just can't seem to find it, and I've been looking for about the last 30 minutes, so maybe I only thought that I wrote it. Anyway...

We were in our customary Redskins corner and I met this extremely good-looking guy who was also a Redskins fan. (The customary greeting when meeting other Redskins fans is to ask whether they're from Maryland or Virginia, which is then followed by the long-ish story of how I, being from Montana, came to be a 'Skins fan.) He was intelligent, tall, sweet, funny and seemed genuinely interested in talking to me and hanging out with me. I even talked him into joining my crew and I as we journeyed over to Big Wangs for the Broncos game that day. It wasn't until we had been at Wangs for a while that The Sister happened to point out the Very Important thing I had been missing all day long:

The Wedding Ring

Being that I feel far too young to be married, and people tend to be single until they're much older in urban environments than in small towns I've never been one to look for the ring. I just assume that everyone else is single like I am and go about my merry way. Since this day, since I met this guy, I have begun to reform my ignorant ways - but that's not the point of this story.

After getting over my initial annoyance and disappointment, I let it go. That afternoon I think I ran off to flirt with The Kid (way back in the days when we were still playing cat and mouse with each other) and put the cute married guy out of my head. But the next week at Barney's, there he was - sweet and funny and just as happy to see me as he had been happy to hang out with me the week before. I started to realize that what I thought was flirting had really been a genuine interest in me as a person and a genuinely friendly nature which can be really hard to find.

I started to realize that this was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

We hung out every week, me with my Bailey's and him with his pints of Guinness. On many an occasion, he would stay and hang out for the Broncos game or accompany me to Wangs to watch it with my Broncos friends. I don't want you to get the wrong idea though - there were never any bad intentions on either part and never once was there any kind of romantic advance from either of us. At some point we exchanged phone numbers with the intention of one day getting some people together (including his wife) to go out for drinks sometime.

Over Christmas he was in DC for the last couple of 'Skins games and during those games we began text messaging each other at particularly good and particularly bad moments. I realized that I missed watching the games with him and hoped that we could watch the post-season at Barney's after the New Year.

Oops.

It was at this point that I realized that I was sort of in love with him. Even The Sister had to admit that he's pretty much the perfect guy for me - well, you know, except for that whole being-married thing. While realizing that this was a love that could never be expressed, could never come to fruition, it was good for me to at least admit that the feelings were hiding in there. The hardest moment for me came just after the New Year, when he called me to talk about the playoffs and to say that he was going to be out of town the whole time. I expressed my distress over this and said that we would have to find a way to get together as soon as he was back, because I was going to be leaving LA before summer. He said, "Wait, you're moving?" and I confirmed this. He then said, "But, you're cool," in the most heartbreakingly crestfallen voice imaginable. It melted my heart.

This friendship has continued to develop, though mostly over the phone as of late. The thing is, he lives in a completely different town that is about an hour away. He just comes down to LA to go to Barney's because he doesn't think any other sports bar can compare (and I'm not arguing with him there). I've begun referring to him as My Married Boyfriend, because it's a relationship that's really unlike any other that I've had before. It's hard to explain, but there's nothing improper about it at all. We just really connect.

The only thing that worries me is that I haven't met his wife yet. I feel like I could let go of any underlying guilt if I could just meet her and befriend her too - to really prove that, in the end, my intentions are noble. And they are. MMB is really the kind of person who is so worth having in my life that I will take him any way I can get him. Though if he wasn't married, I'm fairly convinced that we would have ended up together. These things happen though: you meet someone with whom you share a connection and that connection has no regard for the barriers or limitations that shape it.

The good thing about all of this is that I know if there's one guy out there like this, there must be more. Somewhere, hiding inside of all those little dots on the roadmap, there are men just waiting to meet someone like me. Men who aren't married or irreparably damaged or actors. And very soon, I'll be on my way to find them...

Lyrics of the Day

"You'll never know, dear just how much I loved you; you'll probably think this was just my big excuse, but I stand committed to a love that came before you and the fact that I adore you is but one of my truths." Ani DiFranco School Night

V-Day

I figured that since this blog is about dating and my love life (or frightening lack thereof), etc. that I should at least post something on this, most infamous of holidays: Valentine's Day.

In reality, I don't care all that much about Valentine's. I'm definitely not one of those people who gets horribly depressed by the lack of a date on this day. I'm also not one of those people who would stop speaking to a boyfriend over a lack of a gift on this day.

So what does Valentine's Day have me thinking about this year?

Aside from the almost obligatory mental rehashings of past V-Days, which leads to mental rehashings of past relationships, which leads to various levels of agony and/or mortification over past relationship choices, which leads to a vague curiosity about the whereabouts of particular ex-boyfriends...

Wait, where was I again?

What's actually on my mind today is that fact that I'm sick. I've been sick mostly since Friday and despite a trip to the doctor on Monday, I seem to be distressingly slow getting back on my feet. I took Monday afternoon and the whole of yesterday off of work (which is completely out of character for me) to try to get better, and today I still feel like crap. Of course, getting called into work at 3:00 am this morning didn't help.

What I really, truly want for Valentine's Day this year is some sleep. I want a quiet evening in front of my TV, followed by at least 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Do you think Cupid will grant my Valentine's Day wish?

Lyrics of the Day

"Hey, are you as lonesome as I am and can we talk about it? I'm sorry if I woke you up again, I know how you love sleepin'." Best Kissers in the World You Love Sleepin'

Wait a Second Here...

I just got home from The Kid's house.

I know. I have no idea what happened.

I had completely written him off. I was coming to terms with the rejection (albeit rather begrudgingly) and the only thing I was really worrying about was whether or not he was going to show up at my friend Brussel's birthday party next month. I was sitting on my sofa (where I pretty much spent the entire day yesterday), watching the Pro Bowl and text messaging My Married Boyfriend.

(I tried to write a post about My Married Boyfriend yesterday, but the computer ate it. I will explain that whole thing tomorrow.)

MMB and I were talking about Pro Bowl groupies and I had just sent him a reply to his last message. I heard my text message ring tone almost immediately after I closed the phone. I opened it back up, anticipating a reply from MMB.

I was so shocked that my heart nearly stopped beating. I saw The Kid's name above the message, "watcha doin tonight".

I tried to call The Sister for guidance, but she didn't pick up. I realized that I was going to have to figure this out all by myself, like a Big Girl. So I did. I decided that whatever had happened this week, The Kid must have realized that having sex with a cute girl is better than not having sex with a cute girl. When I finally did talk to The Sister, she said maybe he was trying to prove some sort of point after I was bratty to him last Sunday. Or maybe he just did a total guy thing and forgot to text me back (though that seems fairly unlikely). Either way, I know that I had been quite pessimistic about facing at 2+ month dry spell and I decided that I didn't care enough about all my paranoid agonizing this week to keep me from continuing to hang out with him.

So I said to hell with it all and went over to his place last night. And you know what? It was normal, as if nothing had ever happened. So maybe nothing did. Maybe I made the whole thing up in my head. Or not. But it was actually a fairly perfect evening: we drank some wine, ate some potato chips, watched some Tenacious D episodes and then had some pretty dang good sex.

Lyrics of the Day

"What's your favorite posish? That's cool with me, it's not my favorite but I'll do it for you. What's your favorite dish? I'm not gonna cook it, but I'll order it from Zanzibar. And then I'm gonna love you completely." Tenacious D Fuck Her Gently

Intuition

Throughout my romantic life, there have been times where I've suddenly started reacting differently to the guy that I've been seeing. This is hard to explain. When it happens it feels like everything was normal, but all of the sudden I start to feel unsteady and insecure and thrown off kilter. At first, I don't know what's going on, and the people around me think I'm being a chick and being irrational and starting to get clingy and co-dependent. But these things are not in my nature - I would never normally behave this way.

Over time, I've begun to realize that I'm extremely sensitive to the actions and behaviors of others. It's not that I suddenly begin acting differently toward my significant other (or the guy I'm dating or sleeping with, or whatever), it's that they've begun acting differently toward me.

Sometimes this shift would be completely imperceptible to someone else or to anyone outside of the situation. Sometimes this shift is highly noticeable and it's a no-brainer. Either way, something changes and it usually signals the beginning of the end.

With the Speed Freak, it was pretty much there from about the end of Month One until the end of the relationship, though it ebbed and surged at different times throughout the relationship. With The Ex, I remember the exact moment that I noticed that something was wrong, though it took me weeks to realize what it all really meant. With Irish, it was the way he talked to me on the phone the day before our first (and only) date.

With The Kid, it sorta started with that seductive, yet slightly romantic text message last week. It began to solidify with the scheduling snafu that occurred on Saturday night (though I take some of the blame for that since it was the first time I actually tried to plan seeing him in advance). And of course, the kicker was the unanswered text message response that I sent him on Monday afternoon.

I consulted The Sister about it, before I fully realized that he was blowing me off. I was bitching about the Saturday scheduling and the fact that he didn't reply to my Monday text. She said, "You know, I think you're starting to treat him like he's your boyfriend or like he owes you something, but he doesn't." I thought, at the time, that maybe she had a point. Maybe I was adjusting in the wrong direction to the relationship and I needed to force myself to chill back out. But it was when I texted him "You busy tonight?" on Wednesday and never received a response that I realized I had been reacting to a subtle shift in his behavior. If he had remained chill and casual about the whole thing, while still maintaining the level of interaction that we had glided into, I would've remained calm as well. You see, this is the first time he's ever not responded to a text from me.

Now here's my disclaimer: I am not heartbroken about this. I did not get emotionally involved in this situation. If it is truly and completely over (and I'm fairly sure that it is), that's fine. But I really do feel a certain amount of indignation. Remember those rules that I was talking about a few posts ago? As Constant Dater states them, they apply only before you've slept with someone. If I had been the one to end the arrangement, I would have done so verbally. And you know that I'm telling the truth, because that's how I've dealt with every dating relationship that I've chronicled in this forum.

So here I am, again, begging for your advice. Don't I deserve a concrete answer? Can I text him or call him one more time, just to have the closure that I need? Because emotional involvement or no, I cannot stand being left in suspense.

Lyrics of the Day

"I've been sitting up waiting for my sugar to show; I've been listening to the sirens and the radio. He said he'd be over three hours ago, I've been waiting for his car on the hill." Joni Mitchell Car on a Hill

The Silent Treatment

I can't go into this in depth right now, as I'm nearly out of time, but I just needed to bitch to somebody about this...

I'm pretty sure I won't be seeing The Kid again.

He did not respond to my last 2 test messages (one of which was a response to a text he sent me), and it's the first time that's ever happened.

When you've been having sex with someone on a semi-regular basis for nearly two months (even if it is casual, no-strings-attached sex) and you suddenly decide that you don't want to do it anymore, isn't it common courtesy to let them know about it? Shouldn't he at least say to me, "Hey, this has been fun but it's just not working for me anymore."

Or am I asking too much?

And is there anything I can do about it? Should I reach out one last time, or should I let it go? You see, we were sorta friends first. We have an entire group of mutual friends. I could never behave normally in a social situation if I hadn't talked to him again after this. *sigh*

Damn. I knew this was coming. But that too is a post for another day. Tomorrow perhaps...

Lyrics of the Day

"We told you all of our secrets, all but one and don't you even try; the phone has been disconnected." Tori Amos Mother

Only the Lonely

Something is wrong with me.

All of the sudden, I don't feel so much like myself anymore.

I don't know when this all started, but I started noticing it on last Thursday, as I read a bunch of amazing poems written by other bloggers out there in the blogosphere. At first, it was just a tingle in the back of my brain. Then it became something more concrete, but still something that I felt would pass. But yesterday I took the day off of work and during the hours that I spent on my couch, recovering from Super Bowl Sunday and catching up on my TV shows, this feeling became pervasive. I'm not even sure I can bring myself to say it out loud. But admission of a problem is the first step to solving it, right?

I want to fall in love.

Holy crap. That sounds even worse now that I've written it than I thought it would.

I'm trying to figure out how to say what it is that I'm really feeling here, because the words all seem so inadequate or ill-fitted for what's going on in my head and in my heart. It's a little like loneliness, but not really, because I'm not actually lonely. I'm realizing that it's been nearly 2 years since my last relationship, since I even had the possibility of love, and that's a pretty depressing thought.

In the past five and a half (good lord that sounds like such a freaking long time) years that I've spent living in Los Angeles, I've only felt a real spark 3 times. The fact that all of those times worked out very poorly for me causes me to wonder: is my radar completely off? Am I, in fact, only capable of feeling the spark with guys that are completely wrong for me and/or could never truly be in a relationship with me?

Is it a better sign, or a worse one that each progressive relationship has gotten shorter and shorter?

There was the Speed Freak, who lasted just over a year (although that doesn't count the stupid number of times that we broke up and got back together). There was The Ex, who lasted less than three months, but whose ghost still haunts the back of my mind nearly two years later. Finally, there was Irish, who you all know about from the sad events that I chronicled here. He lasted 3 days, I think.

All this pining and wanting and almost-but-not-quite-and-I-certainly-won't-admit-to-it loneliness seem a moot point too. Because I know deep down in my little heart of hearts that there is no Prince Charming waiting for me in the City of Angels. There just isn't. And it's not that part that bothers me. It's just the waiting - the limbo.

All of this, and this whole thing with The Kid is starting to wear on me. But that's a longer discussion for a different day. Or later tonight, depending on how my afternoon / evening go...

Lyrics of the Day

"When I was young, I never needed anyone and making love was just for fun. Those days are gone." Eric Carmen All By Myself

Shock Me, Shock Me, Shock Me

I've been meaning to write this post since last Thursday, but the end of the week just got too busy for me and I didn't get around to it.

Wednesday night, I actually met Montana Guy for coffee.

It was pretty much exactly what I thought it was going to be: he was very sweet, I wasn't attracted to him, we had a really nice conversation. I would absolutely hang out with him again, but it's not going to go in a romantic direction. Plus, strangely enough, I'm pretty sure that I've met him before. The more that I looked at him, the more familiar he became. I know of at least one function/event thing that we both attended (way the heck back in 2002) and it's quite possible that we met there.

The bottom line is that it was a lot of build up for no good reason. Had I been actually excited about the date, this would be a different story. But, alas - no sparks, no fireworks, no making googly-eyes at each other across the table.

Over the weekend, I dropped by the wine bar where The Sister works for a drink. I was sitting there, chatting with the bartender when I see 3 pretty cute boys walk up behind me. I decide to eavesdrop for a few minutes, because I am a world-class eavesdropper. I hear the particularly cute guy talking about being from Colorado and I think, Hey! Maybe we've got a winner here, maybe I should hit on him, until I hear him mention the next thing - and is anybody really surprised at this point when I say...

Actor. He was an actor.

Why? Because they're all actors. Because nobody in Los Angeles seems to be of the normal, non-actor-y persuasion. It gets more and more exhausting, every time I think about it.

This week, I'm sending out my resume...

Lyrics of the Day

"Gold teeth and a curse for this town were all in my mouth and I don't know how they got out, dear. Turn me back into the pet I was when we met, I was happier then with no mindset." The Shins New Slang

Coming Clean

What do you do when the person that you are sleeping with sends you a provocative, yet slightly romantic text message?

I know that I've been doing the Boot Scootin' Boogie around the issue of my relationship with The Kid, and I haven't been doing it accidentally. There are two main reasons for this: One is that I'm slightly ashamed of the fact that I'm involved with him at all, being that he's both an actor and younger than I am, a fact that I've harped on more than once in this forum. The second is that, intentionally or unintentionally, somewhere along the way I decided that I was going to try to keep this blog more in the PG rating of things. But as of late I've realized that I'm not writing the blog that I want to be writing. It's not that I haven't loved writing everything that I've written here - it's just that I've been holding back a lot, and I'm pretty sure that I don't want to do it anymore.

There are details that I just want to share - because, well as I said, I'm a fan of TMI. I like saying the things that not everyone else would say, discussing topics that some people may find less than savory. So I guess this is a bit of a disclaimer: things are about to get just a little more revealing around here and there may be a Bad Word thrown in here and there and that's just how it's going to be.

A girl can only be good for so long.

Which brings me back to the initial question: should I or should I not be worried that The Kid sent me a text today referencing the beauty of my hair?

Many people don't necessarily approve of the idea of casual sex. Many people can't compartmentalize enough to believe that it's possible to have an honest and healthy sexual relationship without any real feelings involved. I am not one of those people. For as long as I can remember (or at least since I discovered my very healthy libido - though that was fairly late in my life, developmentally speaking), I've wanted a Buddy of this sort. I have always been fairly sure of my ability to handle this type of relationship and especially longed for one in the long days in between boyfriends when I had no form of relief outside of myself. But it had always eluded me until now.

When The Kid and I first hooked up, way back at that ugly Christmas sweater party, a brief conversation was had concerning the nature of our interaction. It was understood that neither of us was looking to turn this into an actual Relationship, but that we were both up for "hanging out" on a semi-regular basis. In practice, this has been working very well. But every once in a while, I get paranoid and girly-over-analytical and I start worrying that he's got feelings for me. I'm not saying that it would be the most horrifying thing in the world or that I don't care about him at all, because I do. We were friends first and he's a sweet guy and I do enjoy the time I spend hanging out with him (even when we're not actually having sex). It's just that I'm extremely happy with the way things are right now and part of me is scared to death that something is going to screw it up and I'm going to have another Mojave Desert sized dry spell like the one that The Kid just helped end.

Everyone I've talked to (though that's not a ton of people), including my therapist (Did I ever mention that I see one of those? I don't think that I did, but I do, albeit rather occasionally right now since I've felt so good for so long.) thinks that the relationship with The Kid is actually a good thing for me and that I need to resist the urge to over-analyze or over-worry it. They're right, I know this. I know that, in reality, I never have to address whether or not The Kid develops feelings for me unless he actually comes out and says something to me. But there's still that little bit of me that keeps the fear alive in the very very back of my brain.

Phew!

I really feel a lot better. I had been sort of dying to get that all out there. I'm not one that's ever been any good at holding back and I was pretty close to exploding with the "secret" of what was going on this whole time. Sometimes I just want to share, I want to spill everything or somethings or even one thing and I haven't been allowing myself to.

Lyrics of the Day

"Your gun went off. Well you shot off your mouth and look where it got you. My mouth runs on too. " Modest Mouse The View

Delayed Like a Flight at Christmas

This date with Montana Guy is never going to happen.

I'm so annoyed that something that I wasn't even sure was a date in the first place, and wasn't even sure I was that interested in going on is turning into such a colossal pain and waste of time.

Three times we've made plans to get together on a certain day.

Three times I've kept my schedule open and mentally prepared myself for all the rigors of First Date Conversation® .

Three times I've sat around wondering when exactly he's going to call me, since I've obviously got an entirely different idea in my head as to what "convenient and appropriate" calling times are.

I almost want to employ the three strikes law here, but my stupidly guilty conscience doesn't want me to.

But at what point does it just become too ridiculous and not worth it? The first time we were supposed to go out he cancelled because a new job came up. (He's a writer of some sort and gets random freelance jobs occasionally, at least that's the impression I've gotten.) The second time, I was intending on trying to double-schedule him with The Kid until I got tired of waiting for him to call. When I called him to beg off the date, he said that he was going to have to cancel anyway. That assuaged any guilt I had over wanting to hang with The Kid instead of going on the date, but it also irritated me that he was cancelling for a second time. Then, last night, I lay in bed (because I'm a pathetic old lady and I go to bed at 9), wondering if he was ever going to call. Finally he did call, but only the cancel once again. This time, instead of trying to reschedule, he said that he would call me when he knew how his schedule was going to be a bit better.

Is it even worth bothering any more? I honestly don't know. I don't want to be rude about it, but why is there any point in trying to date if you don't even have time for a quick coffee?

Lyrics of the Day

"When you said you needed me, did you really need me or was it just someone – oh, you’d take anything. Am I first on that list of yours, or am I second, or third?" The Good Life Inmates

Key Points

Something is telling me that it's time to go. And it's not just the little voice in the back of my head that has been dying to get out of LA for months now.

I am an extremely responsible person. I pay my bills on time, I balance my checkbook, I never lose anything, I always keep my appointments, I'm always on time for work. You wouldn't know this about me by the way the end of last week went for me, and I'm pretty sure that it's a message that the Universe is trying to send me.

Every morning as I leave my apartment, I check my pocket to make sure that I've got my keys with me before I close the door. Every morning they're there and I go on my merry way. Friday morning, I shut the door, then checked my pocket for my keys - only to find that, for the first time ever, they weren't there. They were still sitting on the table where I throw them every day and I had instead picked up my spare pair of sunglasses and slipped them into my pocket.

On Saturday morning, I woke up far too early filled with anxiety over the grocery shopping and house cleaning that I absolutely had to get done. I got out of bed at 8:30 am, after a mere 6 hours of sleep, and ran around town before getting to some serious cleaning. It was after I ran a bunch of errands that I realized that the part of my keychain that contained my mailbox and laundry room keys was no longer attached to the rest. I tried to swing back by the parking lots I had been in to see if I could see where I had dropped the keys, but to no avail.

Sunday morning my pager went off at 4:30 am, after I had been in bed for only 3 1/2 hours. I went to work, left, and crawled back into bed at 5:50 am. At 6:1o am, my pager went off again. I cried, got out of bed and went back to work. At 7:30 am, when I was halfway home again, my pager went off for a third time. It was nearly 9:00 am by the time I got back to sleep.

Between the Universe's obvious message that I need to move the heck out of my apartment and the fact that work has got me a hair's breadth from burning out right now, I'm realizing that it's really time for me to make a change. As much as I want to leave, I've spent this first month of 2007 procrastinating and waffling and having second thoughts about whether or not I'm ready to go. I've been in LA for over 5 1/2 years now and I'm quite comfortable here - I could stay forever in this imaginary land I live in and wake up one day, single and 35 and wondering where the last 15 years went. But that's not what I want. I want to move on and move forward. I want to see what and where and who else is out there, in the great beyond that is everything north and east of Southern California.

Most of all, I want some time off. I want to go to Montana for more than a week and hang with my family and my friends and my home state. I want some flexibility in my working life and I want to meet some guys who never have been, nor have ever wanted to be actors.

Lyrics of the Day

"I think that I'm just tired, I think I need a new town to leave this all behind." Augustana Boston

Etiquette - Revisited

During the seemingly endless string of delays that seems to be surrounding my possibly-impending date with Montana Guy, I have been thinking a lot about dating etiquette again. I don't know if this is due to the fact that I maybe might possibly have a date in the near future or not - but a thousand thoughts have been swirling around in my pointy little head.

When I embarked on this dating adventure initially, I promised myself that I was going to honor the Gods of Dating Karma™ by doing the kind and honorable thing whenever confronted with the need for politely rejecting someone. I told myself that no one likes the brush-off method and that people would rather just be told straight up that I'm not interested.

But was I wrong?



I was reading in another blog recently that not responding to an email from a party that you're not interested in is the best way to go. That no one wants to receive a "thanks but no thanks" email back and that they'd rather get nothing at all. I always thought that I was being considerate by sending a "no thanks" email, but when I thought about it more I realized that I received more negative responses to those emails than I would have received had I done nothing at all.

Then today, in my state of mild boredom, I was reading over Constant Dater's old posts and found a particularly interesting one featuring her take on dating etiquette.

Constant states that it's perfectly acceptable, nay, preferable for someone to use the Unreturned Phone Call / Email as a method of getting the point of rejection across. And you know what? At this point, I'm inclined to start to agree with her. I don't know if anyone remembers this rejection, but it still breaks my heart every time I think about it.

So is she right? Is that really the best way to go when matters of the heart are concerned? What do you guys think?

Lyrics of the Day

"Manners, ain't nothing wrong with having manners. Show respect and some courtesy." Third World Manners

Small, Small World

On Friday night I was supposed to go out with a bunch of old friends (including The Figa Master and The Monster) as Part One of Two last hurrahs with The Monster before she runs off to Europe to teach hot guys how to speak English. The Sister had the night off and decided to join, as she hadn't hung out with me in a long time.

Long story short, things didn't work out quite as planned. As in, the guest of honor ended up bailing out at the very last minute.

But we went ahead and had some fun anyway.

We were at the Cabo Cantina, a place that we went to a ton over the summer, but haven't been back to in quite a while. Possibly we hadn't been there since this night (see #4 under "yesterday's points" for the event).

As per usual, you cannot go anywhere in Hollywood (if you've lived here as long as I have) without running into people you would never expect to run into. The Sister started saying that she thought she recognized this guy across the bar, but couldn't figure out who he was. Then she noticed that he seemed to be saying the same thing about her, so she was sure she had to know him.

Imagine our surprise when we realized that it was these guys (+ a third guy that we met that weekend). We hadn't heard from them in months (though I have been MySpace friends with The Filmmaker since last I posted about him).

After many a 2-for-1 margarita and some much needed catching up with some of my girls (notably SJP, back on holiday break from her Harvard exploits and LAJ, who has an Irish Boyfriend now - could I be ANY MORE envious?), The Sister and I ended up wandering to another bar with The Filmmaker and the third guy, Old Blue Eyes. The four of us were maybe a little intoxicated and we may have made complete fools of ourselves dancing around in the bar, but we had a hell of a time.

Actually, the time we had was rather...

Legen...

Wait for it...




Dary.

(Seriously, watch that video. This is quite possibly my favorite sitcom to hit TV in the last 5 years. Maybe more.)

Anyway, we had an insanely good time. And I have to admit that when I didn't end up hearing back from The Filmmaker way back in August, I felt rather rejected. But on Friday night, I totally won. I won so much so that the boys called The Sister (for she had given Old Blue Eyes her number) on Sunday to see if she and I wanted to meet them for drinks.

Lyrics of the Day

"She gives me a hug ‘til our hips are flush, she says, 'Boy, we’ve hardly kept in touch – it’s time for catching up.'" The Good Life Notes in His Pockets

T.M.I.

I have this inexplicable habit of sharing too much information with [relative and complete] strangers.

Now I don't mean, "Oh my god that Thai food gave me the worst diarrhea!" kind of T.M.I.

I mean that I randomly launch into stories that no one needs to know, with no prompting whatsoever from the conversation or situation at hand.

Just today I heard someone in the hallway mention a 9-volt battery. This seemed to remind me that this was the perfect time to share details of my recent struggles to maintain the battery-powered operation of my stubborn parking lot gate remote with my student and the person I was servicing at work this morning.

Did they care about my battery-operated remote control?

Of course not.

Does that stop me from sharing the story in its entirety?

Of course not.

And, embarrassingly, this is a habit that most certainly extends into my dating life. It tends to work (somewhat, at least) in my favor on first dates, as it allows me to refresh the conversation at will if it seems to be flagging. But at many (okay, well, most) other times, it merely strikes people as odd or possibly even annoying.

Tonight, the person most annoyed by my habit was Me. I was stumbling through my first telephone conversation with Montana Guy as if I'd never talked on the phone with anyone as long as I'd lived. It wasn't nervousness, not really, as I'm not even sure this guy is a realistic romantic prospect. It was something else altogether, that I'm really just now realizing.

I'm RUSTY.

I haven't had a New Prospective Date-type interaction in quite a while now. Being that I've been unsure whether this was going to be a date anyway, I had not mentally prepared myself for the call that I had told him to make tonight.

Whether or not I made a total ass of myself (though I am leaning towards the fact that I did), the tentatively planned date for tomorrow night is a no-go. Montana Guy just got a new job and needs a few evenings of adjustment before he's going to be available. He suggested this weekend, but I'm completely swamped (with plans to be disclosed at a later date in this space). So we're setting another tentative plan for next week, depending on how the rest of this week works out for each of us.

Then we can see just how much inane information I can disclose before he runs screaming for the hills.

Lyrics of the Day

"I feel stupid, but it's something that comes and goes. I've been changin', I think it's funny how no one knows." Matchbox Twenty Mad Season

Complacency

Every Monday I hate myself for coming to work all exhausted and sometimes mildly hungover.

Every Monday I swear that the next weekend I'm going to lay off the highly caffeinated beverages and/or alcohol early in the day so that I can truly get a good night sleep and be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for the next busy Monday morning.

Every Monday I marvel at how stupid I must be to be doing this over and over and over again.

And yet, every Sunday, I can't help but perpetrate my cycle one more time.

With it being the football playoffs this month, I've spent a good chunk of the last two weekends in front of various TVs in various places glued to some really exciting game action. But I'm always paying for it on Monday morning.

Today I'm thinking about boys. Boys and dating and the future. You see, I'm starting to feel like a short-timer here, because I'm really hoping to move out of LA in the near future. Knowing that I'm going to be leaving soon does two things: it gives me lots of hope for future relationships and dating experiences in friendlier dating pools and it makes it pretty dang difficult to focus on trying to meet anyone here in this City of Lost Cause Dating.

I do have the date-type-thing with Montana Guy looming on Wednesday night, but I'm not even sure I find him attractive, so it really could add up to nothing but a couple of hours feeling homesick.

There is another reason that it's becoming ever-easier for me to be complacent about dating.

It's The Kid.

When you have a fairly regular source of no-pressure, no-worries male affection, it's hard to want to get off your butt and do all that horrible date-y stuff. It's so much easier to hang out with someone that you already know, even if you don't have particularly romantic feelings for him. And right now what's going on with The Kid is just so easy, it's hard to want to do anything that takes any effort at all.

Lyrics of the Day

"I'm calling out; I don't really care for your city anymore. I spend the night; I lay awake and miss you when you go." Tegan & Sara Monday Monday Monday

Where Have I Been?

Where have I been?

Work.

Really.

I don't know what has happened in the past week (actually, I do, but for the sake of my colloquialisms, let's just pretend that I don't), but things have exploded and gone insane and gotten all out-of-hand in my little corner of the professional world. I've been doing the work of a person-and-a-half all by my little lonesome self and it's got me exhausted beyond belief and more than ready to throw in the towel.

I haven't even had time to dutifully pursue terrible dates with poorly-matched men on the internet.

I have, however, made a tentative date with Montana Guy for next Wednesday. Now here's the question though: is it really a date?

He contacted me solely on the grounds that we're both from Montana, and that's pretty much all that we've talked about in the handful of emails that we've exchanged. When popping the actual "do you want to get together" question, he actually said that we should get together over coffee to talk about home.

So is it a date? What do you think?

Here's to Me, Mrs. Robinson

A disturbing pattern has emerged in my most recent romantic exploits.

This is something that I've actually struggled with for a long time and something which I've found it hard to explain or understand. But as of late it's been more and more obvious that this pattern has reestablished itself in my life in a big way.

I have this thing for younger guys.

I know that "age is just a number" and blah, blah, blah - but when you're in your mid-twenties, younger guys are really young. They're just out of college and still trying to figure out their lives, their paths and trying to tell their heads from their backsides. It makes for a rather ill-fitting relationship. I would know. I've been here before.

The stranger thing about the whole debacle is that the younger guys seem to know this, to sense this thing and they flock to me.

On Christmas Eve, The Sister and I went out (something that has been a tradition for us since we became Of Age) and at the bar I picked up a completely adorable boy. And I do mean boy. He was 22.

Obviously, The Kid is younger than I am. That's why I call him The Kid. Though he's not quite as frighteningly young as 22.

Last Friday night I was in San Luis Obispo with my family and we were all out at a bar celebrating my fabulous cousin's birthday. A 22-year old came over to our table with his sights set on me. I may have accidentally run-off and left The Sister with him. He referred to her as "Baby Girl" for the rest of the night.

On New Year's Eve, Red and I threw a little shindig at her house which ended up being pretty much the two of us and 15 or 20 guys. I have way too many male friends. Sometime after midnight, one of the late additions to the party tried very hard to get me to make-out with him (something I was definitely not interested in doing by that point, I really just wanted to go to sleep). He was about 23.

I was complaining to Red about this recurring problem and she said to me that she was always going after younger guys when she was in her twenties. She said that it's quite obvious what's going on here.

Younger guys aren't ready for a relationship, most of the time. There for they pose no threat to my crippling fear of intimacy and commitment.

And I had been foolish enough to start believing that I was moving past that.

Lyrics of the Day

"Hide it in a hiding place where no one ever goes; put it in your pantry with your cupcakes. It's a little secret, just the Robinsons' affair. Most of all, you've got to hide it from the kids." Simon & Garfunkel Mrs. Robinson

Happy New Year!

And all of a sudden, it's 2007.

What could be in store for us?

Lyrics of the Day

"So this is the New Year and I have no resolutions." Death Cab For Cutie The New Year

A Popularity Contest

I don't know if I've really talked about this much in this forum, but throughout my life I've had a few periods of fairly low self-esteem.

I know this can't come as much of a surprise: what girl hasn't had her maudlin everybody-hates-me-and-I'm-ugly teenage phase? But my periods of low self-esteem were lengthy and unfortunately came at pretty regular intervals during the first 24 years or so of my life.

It is only in the most recent years that I have truly started to get past many of my insecurities and this has been more and more to my romantic advantage lately. For anyone who doesn't yet know this: there's nothing more attractive to the opposite sex than confidence.

By far, the most entertaining thing about my trip home for Christmas was the reaction I received from people I went to high school with. I am finally past the age of dreading running into said people and at a place in my life where I genuinely enjoy seeing them again and catching up - even if we weren't really friends way back in the day. But to have to actually re-introduce myself on more than one occasion, and to hear "Wow" as the response more often than not - well, that's a whole new ballgame folks.

I don't know if it's that I actually look that much different than I did in high school (though a radical hair-style change does have an effect) or if it's just that I'm a much (MUCH) happier person now, but I got quite a kick out of people's reactions to seeing me this time around. Being hit-on and/or propositioned by three or four different guys didn't hurt either.

I never would have guessed that at this point in my dating journey I would be getting more attention off-line than on!

Lyrics of the Day

"I just can't wait 'til my 10 year reunion, I'm gonna bust down the double doors and when I stand on these tables before you, you will know what all this time was for." John Mayer No Such Thing

Hear Me Here

Hey! I do have the promised surprise here for all you faithful readers today, but let me give you a little backstory...

Sometime around October, a nice gentleman named Kit Mikazuki started occasionally commenting on this here little blog. He said that he was about to start chronicling a bit of his own dating life online, but in a different format: the podcast.

For those of you who are new to this little world (as I am myself), a podcast is basically an audio-blog (if the maker so-desires). Episodes are recorded, then shared online - most easily through iTunes. For more basic info, check here.

Anyway, the point is, Kit was so kind as to invite me to do a guest interview on his totally entertaining podcast. He calls it "Nante Koto" which he says is Japanese for "Oh my [expletive deleted] God." I caught up on all of his episodes before said interview and then we had a rather lengthy chat about just about anything and everything in the entire world - though mostly the interview was about internet dating.

Imagine my excitement when Kit told me yesterday that the episode should be ready to publish by today! Well, he managed to meet his own deadline and the podcast episode is up online and ready for the listening!

You can access the podcast through Kit's website here, or you can go to iTunes and search for the Nante Koto podcast.

I had a ton of fun doing the interview and I'm even more excited to report that there was so much material there that today's episode is one of two. I'm pretty sure that means that I'm extraordinarily interesting and charming. Or it just means that I'm extraordinarily verbose.

You be the judge.

Back - ish...

I had no intention of being so conspicuously absent over this holiday week, but I just couldn't bring myself to sit down in front of my parents' computer for more than 2 minutes at any point. I am now back in LA safely (if a bit sadly) and am trying to slog through two days of work before I leave town again for the weekend.

I have stories. I do.

I'm just not feeling up to expounding on them at the moment. I really just checked in to let everyone know that I'm alive and that I promise to be back in actual blogging action very soon.

There may also be a fun little surprise to direct you all to later today, or maybe tomorrow, but I'm going to keep it mysterious until I know for sure that you can access it.

Happy Holidays to everyone!

Lyrics of the Day

"Oh there's no place like home for the holidays, 'cause no matter how far away you roam, if you want to be happy in a million ways, for the holidays you can’t beat home, sweet home." Al Stillman Home For the Holidays

A Slow Start

I am just now starting to realize that I may have picked a rather inopportune time to begin my internet dating quest anew. This is not to say, not by any means, that I am giving up - it's just that things probably won't really get going until I get back into town after the holidays.

I've been terribly distracted ever since the initial excitement/disappointment of finding the first really appealing guy on Nerve. It's been a combination of things, but I just haven't been able to get my head back in the game. First and painfully foremost, I got my butt kicked at work last week and all weekend. By yesterday morning I was so exhausted and sleep-deprived that I could hardly function. Fortunately things were quiet yesterday and I was able to sneak out early and get some real sleep. Secondly, my brain is quite focused on going home to Montana for Christmas. I just can't wait to see my friends, my parents, some snow and some hot Montana boys. Thirdly (is that even a word?), I have been spending some time with The Kid.

Now, wait, hold on a second. This is totally not what you think.

Or maybe it is. I guess it depends on how perceptive you are.

I promise you that I have neither changed my stance on dating actors, nor on my belief that The Kid is not dating material. I stand firm in both of those areas. But, you see, it's just that - well - I'm finding it to be really nice to have a friendship with him that's just so... beneficial to us both. We may not be intellectually or romantically compatible, really at all, but the other way in which we are compatible makes it worthwhile to hang out every so often. Plus, we can talk about football. Most of my other guy friends don't get that at all.

Of course, my involvement with The Kid will not interfere with or delay my future internet dating efforts. If I actually end up meeting someone, then The Kid and I can just go back to being friends of the non-beneficial nature. No harm, no foul.

I have been talking to one boy online so far, who is coincidentally from my hometown in Montana. We've basically just been chatting about MT, but yesterday he dropped me a note suggesting that we get together for coffee after the holidays and reminisce about living in Big Sky Country. I can't even begin to guess if he's interested in me or if he's just looking for a Montana connection. I'm up for it, as he seems like a nice guy, so we'll see what happens.

Until then, I'm off to Montana tomorrow morning! I'm so excited that I can hardly handle it, and hopefully I'll have some entertaining dispatches from the road for you all over the holidays.

Lyrics of the Day

"Every stranger's face I see reminds me that I long to be homeward bound. I wish I was homeward bound. Home, where my thought's escaping. Home, where my music's playing. Home, where my love lies waiting silently for me." Simon & Garfunkel Homeward Bound

Curses - Foiled Again!

Oh, how quickly my little heart can be broken.

Today I logged onto Nerve, knowing that my profile has officially been approved and that I was visible to all members overnight. I wasn't sure what to expect, but when I saw that I had a reply from the dreamy boy I had written to yesterday, I nearly jumped out of my seat. I hurried to my inbox and clicked accidentally on his profile name, rather than the message that he sent me.

His profile had been turned off.

I thought, "Hmmm, I have no idea what this could mean, so I had better read the message."

"That was perhaps the best little note I have received. Thanks so much for sending it. In a typical twist of fate, I had just logged on here to turn my profile off indefinitely. You write like only a lovely woman could do, and I wish you luck in finding your counterpart. Meanwhile, let's try not to bump our heads on our bedroom ceilings."

*sigh*

I was too late. Someone else (wisely) snapped him up.

Oh well, you know this is just the beginning...

Lyrics of the Day

"Cheers darlin', I've got your wedding bells in my ear. Cheers darlin', you gave me three cigarettes to smoke my tears away." Damien Rice Cheers Darlin'

Oh, the Nerve!

I just fell in love.

Head-over-heels, completely, dorkily in love.

Well, sort-of.

I've FINALLY done it. I'm back up and running on-line (well, at least I will be as soon as my pictures get the official approval) on Nerve. While I'm waiting for this final approval (and for any sort of work to magically appear), I've decided I should peruse the selection. I was just beginning to lose hope when I stumbled across possibly the most eloquently written on-line profile in the history of the world.

And I fell in love.

What does a pro-active girl do when she falls in love? She gets right off her butt and emails said object of love with something that she hopes will be enough of something to elicit a response.

I already want to give him a name, but this is far too premature, seeing as though he hasn't responded to me yet.

But he will.

I've decided that he will.

Because I love him.

You know, I had forgotten that this can actually be fun.

Lyrics of the Day

"Something in the way she moves, attracts me like no other lover. Something in the way she woos me." The Beatles Something

The Sympathetic Nervous System Strikes Again

Mere moments ago, I was walking down the hall when I ran into BritNurse. He said that I missed a good party on Saturday night (it was our company Christmas party). I said that I was sure it was fun, but that I had a lot of fun at my own party.

He said, "You met someone, didn't you? You're blushing bright red."

I said, "No I'm not! I mean, umm," Here's where I started breaking down into a flustered stammer, something that always happens when I get caught blushing, "No, I mean, I didn't meet anyone. But it was a good party."

He said, "Yeah, I bet it was."

Lyrics of the Day

"And this little masochist, she's lifting up her dress. Guess I thought I could never feel the things I feel." Tori Amos Hey Jupiter

Not the Sharpest Knife in the Drawer

Caffeinate. Hydrate. Intoxicate.

These three words were the mantra of yesterday morning as Red sat at the bar with a Diet Coke, a water and a mimosa spread out in front of her.

I was depending on the latter two to start my morning. In retrospect, I really should have just stuck with hydrating.

Red and I (with The Sister in tow most of the time) may have, sort of, accidentally gone on a bit of a three-day bender this weekend.

And today I'm seriously paying for it. Really.

Friday night was a rousing success. Probably about 10 of my friends filtered in and out of the bar over the evening and Tattoo Guy brought about 4 or 5 of his own. We had quite the entertaining time that definitely included one (or three) too many Jager-bombs and an ill-advised stop at Del Taco at 3 am.



Saturday was way too much shopping (Do you have any idea how hard it is to find ugly Christmas sweaters in Los Angeles? It was hard.) and a very short nap before hitting up the sweater party. The party was a great time - lots of drinks, lots of sweaters, lots of music. Then, it finally happened.

I hooked up with The Kid.

I knew that it was inevitable. I did. No matter what I said here, I knew that something or another would end up happening eventually. There was just too much attraction there for it to go unfulfilled. And you know what? It was fun, and it might just happen again.

But he's still not dating material. And I think he's okay with that.

Red and I didn't get much sleep at all on Saturday night, but we were still crazy (or is it foolish?) enough to drag ourselves to the bar at 9:30 for football. We ended up having another great time, though this time I definitely over-indulged. I really should have stuck to water. Actually, I think I would feel better today if I had guzzled drain cleaner instead of the mimosas and Bailey's on the rocks that I was knocking back.

At some point, I may have ended up kissing The Fan. Maybe. Possibly a lot.

It's a really good thing that football season is almost over. I can't take this Sunday debauchery for much longer. Especially when both of my teams LOSE.

I may have gotten a profile-worthy photo or two over the weekend, but I was too busy passing out on my couch last night to upload them and go through them. It may not happen tonight either, but sometime this week, I will be back on-line and in the game.

Lyrics of the Day

"Think I’m drunk enough to drive you home now. I’ll keep my mouth kept shut under lock and key that’s rusted firm." Death Cab for Cutie Champagne From a Paper Cup

Phase Four

Or whatever phase it is by now. This weekend, the game plan is "lights, camera, take lots of photos so LB can get a date."

Tonight I am kicking off Profile Photo Search Weekend with a night out with a very random group of friends. I'm actually quite proud of myself. I do not endeavor to rally the troups very often, but this weekend seemed like the last chance to do so before the holidays, so I jumped on the opportunity. Prospective attendants include Red, My Husband, The Figa Master and Tattoo Guy. Yes, that's right: Tattoo Guy. Much to the surprise of many, we've actually kept in touch (albeit sporadically) and have actually formed a friendship.

Tomorrow brings shopping and an ugly Christmas sweater Christmas party with my football friends (and yes, this does include The Kid). The Sis and hopefully Red will be accompanying me there and who knows where afterward.

Sunday is football and well, we all know what football can mean.

By Monday I should have at least one workable shot of myself and it's off to the races we go! Unless, of course, as Tori commented on the last post, I find myself completely unable to take a pic where I'm not grimacing, blinking or looking as intoxicated as I may actually be.

Lyrics of the Day

"Don't just stand there, let's get to it. Strike a pose, there's nothing to it." Madonna Vogue

All About LB

I've spent the better part of the last two days staring at the new Nerve Personals profile that I'm putting together. It hasn't been that long since I was doing this for Match (revising and revising, over and over), but I seemed to have forgotten how hard it is! That, and the fact that Nerve is a different type of site: more educated, edgier, snarkier, more risque. I've got to be at the top of my game online here if I want to attract the kinds of guys that I'm hoping to attract. And I need some seriously good, new pictures of myself to post. Oh! The pressure!

There's so much to debate in filling out a personals profile. How much do you really want to disclose? Should I mention my strange idiosyncrasies, my relationship with The Sister, my crippling fear of commitment and intimacy? Do I ask for what I really want - a manly man who will chop down trees and fix my car and clean my plate after I'm full? Would it be wrong to be perfectly honest and mention that actors need not apply? There's a very delicate balance between honesty and TMI (Too Much Information), between alluring and scary, between honest and bitchy. I'm trying to walk that line, but walk it in my own little unique way.

I'm getting excited and antsy and nervous, but I'm ready. Ready for what's next, for what's out there. For who's out there.

Lyrics of the Day

"Yeah, It’s 4 miles and counting and my hands are shouting to meet you." Teitur To Meet You

Slim Pickings

Today is the first day in so long that I've had time to do much of anything online, so I've spent a good part of it perusing my favorite dating blogs on Nerve.com. Naturally, that little itch that I've been feeling lately becomes more vocal when it gets jealous of the dates that other people are going on, so I decided to do something I haven't done in a while, just for fun. I decided to peruse the increasingly creepy and depressing personals ads on Craigslist.





Some of the oh-so-intriguing headlines that I have to choose from?

Who wants a free breast massage tonight? - m4w - 26

NEED A GREENCARD LETS GET MARRIED - 35 (SANTA MONICA)

Honest, Respectful Benefactor. May I Help You? - 54 (West L.A.)

GQ professor type looking for implant girl

1500 for overnight with non-pro hottie - m4w - 30

I love to clean your house free and be your slave!! - 28 (burbank)

And possibly the most tempting of all:

TOM CRUISE massages you - 30 (lax) pic

Really?

Seriously?

Maybe I should just go back to dating actors...

Lyrics of the Day

"I'll sit and wonder of every love that could've been, if I'd only thought of something charming to say." Death Cab For Cutie The Sound of Settling

Something's in the Air

Maybe it's the fact that I'm desperately hoping to leave Los Angeles in the next six months. Maybe it's the fact that I've been feeling really good about myself lately. Maybe it's the fact that I put my hair in pigtails. Maybe it's the fact that I somehow feel like I've got nothing to lose.

I don't know what it is exactly, but I have just been darn near irresistible lately. I told you all about the other weekend at football, when my congested head was a total guy-magnet - well, things don't seemed to have changed with the shift of my head-cold into a super-fun sinus infection.

After a completely frustrating morning yesterday (being called in to work both before my Redskins game and at half-time), I was really cranky. I was on the brink of falling in love with a new Redskins fan that joined our little corner of craziness at Barney's yesterday (this guy is ridiculously cute and hopefully I'll have another chance with him next week), when I was paged into work. I put work off for an hour so I could watch the rest of the game, but I was so worried about getting yelled at for taking too long to get to work that I didn't really get to enjoy the second half. Of course, the fact that my team got slaughtered in the second half didn't help either.

I managed to shake off all my crankiness by the time I got to Big Wang's last night for the Broncos game. Shortly after getting settled on the large sectional couch in the back, a group of three guys started talking to my Broncos girls and I. Two of them were pretty cute and the third was the Funny Guy/class clown type. Somehow, for a good while during the evening, all three of them were hitting on me. Of course, this is in no small part due to the fact that I was the girl that was paying attention to them, but that did nothing to dampen the self-esteem boost that I was getting. I noticed very early on that one of the pretty cute ones was hammered. And I don't mean that he was just sorta drunk. I mean that he was slurring his words, saying ridiculously inappropriate things to just about everyone, and he actually managed to fall off of his stool at one point, nearly taking an entire table with him.

So, the question of the day is - who was hitting on me most persistently? The Hammered Guy. Who was I actually interested in? The other cute guy, who was actually really cute and from Nebraska and funny and well-spoken.

Ten bucks to anyone who can guess what Nebraska wants to be when he grows up.

Have I mentioned that I totally give up on dating in LA?

Of course, the only one I'm really interested in is an actor. Would it really be a normal night out for me if that wasn't the case?

In the end, I didn't give my number to any of them, though that was only half-way by choice. I would've given it to Nebraska if he had asked, but he didn't. Hammered Guy gave it a shot, and I was halfway through trying to nicely shoot him down when he finally figured out that I wasn't interested. Maybe in real life he's a sweet, intelligent person, but I have no desire to give my number to someone who spent half the night nearly drooling on himself and the other half saying mostly incoherent sexual innuendos or yelling homophobic epithets at any player that happened to be on-screen at the time. Charming.

The topper is that as soon as the three guys left, someone else immediately turned his attention to me. That's right - The Kid was with us for the whole game and as per usual was quite interested in me after noticing that I wasn't interested in him. He asked me where I've been, told me he missed me. Then he proceeded to put his mouth to my ear and whisper what was essentially nonsense, in the interest of watching me squirm. Cruel. Did I take the bait? Eh, not really. I've been down this road before.

So, it seems the word is out. I'm back on the market, ready to go on a date or two and it seems that there are some options out there.

Lyrics of the Day

"My mom says I'm a catch, I'm popular." Nada Surf Popular

Triumph

I'm sorry for the long delay in posting - it's been impossible for me to be in front of a computer for more than 2 minutes since Thursday. But...

I passed!

The evil, long hours of studying that I did really paid off. I actually did even better on the test than I thought I would. I can officially call myself a registered member of my profession and I get to put letters after my name. It's such a relief and a rush to be done, I can't even explain it.

Thursday night I went out with The Sis and an old friend from Montana who was in town visiting. We had WAY too much fun and drank WAY too much champagne. I went into work late on Friday but got my butt kicked all afternoon and collapsed as soon as I got home last night.

Now that I've crossed this line, passed this milestone, there is so much that has to be decided. So much ahead of me. But for now I'm just going to enjoy a lazy weekend of being on-call for work and watching a ton of TV. Next week, we'll get down to some business.

Hiatus-y

Sorry I've been so quiet, but I've been doing exactly what I should be doing right now: studying my little butt off. Hopefully, my last-minute cramming will be enough to squeak me by the minimum requirement and I will never have to go through this particular brain-draining anxiety again.

In a mini-update on semi-news on boys: I saw The Fan again on Sunday and while he sends all sorts of interested signals, he hasn't yet asked for my phone number. I'm not sure if it's shyness or not. I may have neglected to mention that I may have accidentally kissed The Fan in the middle of the bar last weekend when I was at the height of my mimosa-initiated euphoria - so maybe he's waiting for me to make-out with him as a signal? I don't know, but as I'm (hopefully) just barely going to be back on the market on Thursday, I'm not going to stress about it at all. The Kiwi text messaged me a bunch of times last week, but I haven't heard from him in a couple of days. Regardless I'll see him next Sunday during the Broncos game, so again - no stressing, lots of we'll-see'ing.

I'm going to be similarly quiet for the rest of this week, so please bear with me. After what I hope to be a triumphant performance on Thursday, you can expect me back in full force. Or you can expect a long, tearful tirade about the evils of testing bureaucracies. Cross your fingers!

Lyrics of the Day

"Don't worry your mind when you give it your best; one-two, one-two, this is just a test." Beastie Boys Just a Test

Countdown

It is approximately 75 minutes until I get to leave work for the long holiday weekend.

It is approximately 13 hours until I drag myself out of bed to drive 5 hours north to San Luis Obispo, CA for Thanksgiving dinner with my fabulous family.

It is approximately 3.5 days until the next round of debauchery while watching football at Barney's Beanery.

It is approximately 1 week and 1 day until I have to take the ULTRA-SCARY second part of my certification exam.

And, fate (and I guess the horrible amounts of cramming that I'm going to have to do this weekend) willing, it is approximately 1 week, 1 day and 2 hours until I am officially able to put my fine ass back on the dating market. I think I'm ready for it. Even if nothing comes of it (again), even if all I meet are actors, even if I'm doomed for bad date after bad date, I'm ready to get back out there.

Lyrics of the Day

"Twenty, twenty, twenty-four hours to go. I wanna be sedated." The Ramones I Wanna Be Sedated

Simply Irresistible

It turns out that all it takes to become the most popular girl at Sunday football is a minor eye infection and a seriously congestive head cold.

I know this sounds weird, and believe you me - I'm more baffled than you are.

Yesterday The Sister, Red and I went to Barney's along with The Sis's friend. I developed this horrific head cold over the weekend and was trying to ignore it and enjoy my day. Irish showed up again this week, and this time he had the balls to actually come over and join the Redskins corner. I said hi in a cordial sort of way and would have been up for talking to him, but he didn't attempt to engage me in any sort of way. He mostly sat in the corner and watched the game, hardly participating and looking kind of sulky. I almost felt guilty. Almost. (Hey, I'm not the one that did the dumping.)

Somewhere near the end of the game (which we lost, very depressingly to a terrible team), I was pretty drunk (those mimosas just sneak up on me!) and I ended up somehow picking up another Redskins fan, someone I had met once or twice before. Then a bunch of us packed up and headed over to Big Wangs and The Fan said he would meet us there later during the Broncos game.

After the Broncos game started (and after I had started to sober-up, since I didn't have any more alcoholic beverages after leaving Barney's), I ended up talking to a cute Broncos fan from New Zealand who had met my friends there last week. Somehow my hoarse, phlegmy voice and my eyeglasses must have been an aphrodisiac - he started hitting on me quite blatantly by halftime. The Kiwi is cute though, so I wasn't discouraging him.

Then, The Fan shows up and I'm sitting there caught between two guys. I didn't really want to choose one on the spot and I didn't want to eliminate either from the possibility of future interaction, so I basically just tried to play it cool with both of them. I'm sure they had to have known what was going on - but maybe that was half the reason that they were both so interested - nothing's more entertaining than a little competition and heck - we are football fans here.

The funny thing is, all of this is going on with The Kid sitting right behind me.

He made a couple of attempts to get my attention and to see if he could get me to drool on him again this weekend, but I had already decided that I'm done with him and his actor-y ways. (By the way, I decided this weekend that "Actor" is a new derogatory slang term, as in: "I can't believe that guy just cut me off! What an actor!" It works surprisingly well.)

I seemed to have gotten away with flirting with both The Fan and The Kiwi all evening, and I thought I was doing pretty well in pulling off saying goodbye to both of them. I said farewell to The Kiwi and then we hung around for a couple more moments, after which I was saying goodbye to The Fan. I was mid-hug (you can't make out when you've got a nasty cold, darn it) when The Kiwi reappeared. I was left there, alone, between the two guys that had been hitting on me all night. It was quite awkward.

I gave The Kiwi my number and I told The Fan that I would see him at Barney's next Sunday. Phew! It was a lot of attention to receive in one day (and I didn't even get into the table of pretty cute Chargers fans that I was also flirting with - I'm such a hussy!).

Of course, I can't go out with anyone until after I take my test, but now at least I have the opportunity to scratch that itch that I was talking about.

Lyrics of the Day

"I know everybody here wants you. I know everybody here thinks he needs you." Jeff Buckley Everybody Here Wants You

Stagnation

I am romantically stagnant. There is so little going on in my love life right now that I almost feel like a fraud just for trying to post this week.

After all of my worrying and thinking and anticipating about what might happen with The Kid on Sunday, nothing at all happened. It turned out that he was working in Venice all day long and even though we talked that evening (during the later of the NINE HOURS I spent watching football at the bar), he had no intention of driving back into Hollywood (even though he lives over here). It seems to me that he runs really hot and cold. When I'm acting uninterested or wary, he's all over me, but when I'm interested he's backing off. That spells only one word in my little head: T-R-O-U-B-L-E. And you know what I don't need in my life? T-R-O-U-B-L-E. So I'm giving up that ghost and letting The Kid sniff around some other fire hydrant. This one is Out Of Service.

Today I officially scheduled my second test and I'm going to take it two weeks from today. Hopefully as of November 30 I will be certified in my profession and ready to jump right back into the dating scene. Cross your fingers for me!

Lyrics of the Day

"You may feel alone when you're falling asleep and every time tears roll down your cheeks, but I know your heart belongs to someone you've yet to meet." Death Cab for Cutie Someday You Will Be Loved

Victory?

When Irish was breaking up with me (a term I use loosely, as we were never really together enough for me to be broken up with) I asked him, semi-joking, who was going to get custody of Barney's Beanery. I knew that, as Redskins fans, it was inevitable that we run into each other there - especially because that's how we met in the first place.

He said that it didn't matter, that we should still remain friends (after all, we had so much in common) and that we could both still frequent Barney's. But he definitely wasn't giving it up, since he had nowhere else to go, and I had Big Wangs (my other sports bar).

The first week after our dating fiasco, I went to Wangs. There was no way I was risking running into him.

The next week, the Redskins weren't playing. The following week (last week, after Red's birthday) he was out of town.

Bu this week, he showed up. We were barely into the first quarter when The Sister said, "Crap, here comes Irish."

I don't know if he knew she had spotted him or not (I had my back turned, and there was no way I was going to try to see him), but he didn't come over to the Redskins corner of the bar.

We were there, through the entire game: cheering, jeering, yelling and screaming, and for the times that The Sis could see him, he remained in a back corner - watching the game in isolation.

I felt like this was a small victory. As if - even though he was the one to break it off, to reject me - I won by not being afraid to go to my favorite sports bar. Like I stood up to him, in a way that I couldn't that night that he was telling me that it would never work, and I held my ground. He retreated, and I gained a grim satisfaction from that fact. And I just got my hair cut, so I looked damn good doing it.

Lyrics of the Day

"And you will say that you're making headway, and put it in overdrive. But you're mistaking speed for getting what you need and never even noticing you never do arrive." Aimee Mann Driving Sideways

Oh Boy

Tonight, I resolved to sit at home and study physics. Ick. But I was doing it, I really was. I was spending my Friday night re-learning algorithms and reflected incidence coefficients and the importance of the spatial pulse length. That was right before my phone rang. It was The Kid (I am newly dubbing him this). The Kid from the party that danced with me as I tried to leave, The Kid from Monday Night Football at my house who I was nearly cuddling with by the end of the evening. The Kid who is both younger than me and an actor, which is the exact type of guy I am most likely to fall for and who is most likely to crush my heart into a near-liquid pulp.

The Kid who I might have accidentally ended up aggressively hitting on Sunday afternoon, after noticing the ring on the finger of the guy that I thought had been flirting with me all day.

My aggressive flirting with The Kid on Sunday didn't get me anywhere, so I made the natural assumption that he just Wasn't That Into Me. But don't you know? When you ASSUME you make an ASS out of U and ME.

You see, it's The Kid's birthday today, a fact that I completely forgot about until this afternoon, also forgetting that I had told him to call me and let me know if he was doing anything to celebrate it. Well, he is and he called and I had to turn him down.

Now, as I was turning him down, he started being rather flirty. It started with the fact that I would owe him a birthday drink. I said of course, then asked him if he knew where we are watching the Broncos game this weekend. He said he didn't care as long as I was there. I was taken aback for a moment, but recovered swiftly saying, "Of course, so you can get your free drink!" He went on to say that he was hoping for the drink and who knows what else. This is the point at which I started blushing furiously. Thank god that can't be read over the phone. I said, "Oh, wait a second, are you hoping for a little more than just a birthday drink?" Then he said that we should start with a few birthday drinks and see what happens from there.

I know that recounting conversations is incredibly boring, but eventually he ended up saying that he was sad not to have a "beautiful lady" with him on his birthday.

Does this sound like the behavior to expect from someone I was fairly sure (on Sunday at least) had no interest in me?

Lyrics of the Day

"It's a faint, a brief affinity. It's a touch, when it shouldn't be, but it's all right." Maria Taylor One For the Shareholder

The Itch

I honestly didn't think that it would happen so soon, though I knew that it would happen sooner or later. I think it would have been the latter, rather than the former, if it hadn't been for Irish. I think he screwed up the whole rotation, and now here I am.

I am itching to date again.

I don't know if it's the social interaction, or the male attention, or the possibility of romance - but there's definitely something tugging at the back of my mind like a toddler that needs to go to the potty. It's whiny and insistent and may just wet its pants if I don't do something about it soon.

But, you see, the thing is - I can't.

I can't do anything much until I pass my test. It's evil and filled with horribly arcane knowledge that no one (with the exception of bioengineers) actually needs floating around in their head for everyday use. So getting it back into my head (back into the space that it once filled, right after I graduated school, and has since vacated in favor of plotlines for The OC, lyrics to Bonnie Tyler's greatest hits and the names of my favorite NFL players) is taking a little more effort than I thought it would.

But I swear, I swear I am going to pass this test. I am going to do it in the next two weeks (or so, depending on scheduling availability). Then I am going to get out there and get my hot ass back on the market!

Lyrics of the Day

"Won't do no good to sing no love song, no sound could simulate the presence of a man." Fiona Apple Carrion

Something's Queer in SoCal

Driving home from being paged into work VERY early Tuesday morning, I suddenly realized that I needed gas. Fortunately, the cheapest gas station in my half of Los Angeles city proper is almost exactly between work and home and conveniently on the route that I drive.

I got to the station just after 1am and filled up my tank. I was happy, not remembering the last time that I had paid $2.29 for a gallon of gas.

Today, Thursday evening after the mid-term national election, I drove by that wonderfully inexpensive gas station on my way home. I then noticed something a little funny. Not funny-ha-ha, funny-weird.

Gas is now at $2.39 a gallon.

Coincidence?

I think not.

Damn You, Ice Luge!

I have GOT to stop doing this to myself.

Every weekend (well, at least most weekends when I'm not on-call for work), I overbook myself. I plan a thousand things to do with a thousand people, and usually there are more than a few drinks involved. By the time that Sunday evening rolls around, I'm so tired and alcohol'd-out and damn near punchy that I can't even manage to stay awake after the sun goes down.

Then, painfully and abruptly, it's Monday morning.

I can't remember the last time that I wasn't miserable and dragging some serious ass on a Monday morning. Yesterday crawled by in an exhausted haze that left me more frustrated and impatient than I maybe had any right to be.

This weekend was fun, though nothing came even close to panning out for me in the Romance Department, but damn am I still paying for it. The main reason I'm paying for it?

This is an ice luge. You put your mouth at the bottom and try desperately to drink the alcohol that come cascading down without choking to death. This was the insane main attraction at Red's birthday party on Saturday night and it did some serious damage. One of the oh-so-fun side-effects of the ice luge was that it made The Jerk, a guy that Red was dating, decide that it was a fantastic idea to hit on Red's friends, at her own birthday party. Almost needless to say, I did not take the bait and Red is no longer dating The Jerk. It also made Red, The Sister, Red's neighbor and I think it was a great idea to play drinking games at 3 am after drinking all day long. Did I still kick some serious butt playing Asshole? Of course I did!

And, we still got up on Sunday morning when my alarm went off at 8:30 am. There was no way that we were missing the morning Redskins game at Barney's Beanery. What a game that was!

After another full game in the afternoon, an ill-advised trip to Burger King and picking up Red's dog from his babysitter's place, I finally made it home. I was in bed almost immediately.

Last night, I rallied one more time to watch the Monday Night Football game at Red's house. She still has beer left from the party and invited some friends over for the game and to help drink the beer. One of the friends that she invited was pretty cute, and seemed to be showing some interest in me. He's a little older than I usually date (late 30's), but hey, who knows?

The rest of the week is buckle-down time. I would really like to take the second half of my exam soon - possibly next week - and I haven't even begun to prepare in earnest. I'm on-call all week so I'm going to use the time to stay at home and brush up on physics, physics, physics. Blech.

I also managed to soak my camera with water very early on at Red's party, so I'm am sadly photo-less from the event. We took a ton of pics with Red's camera, but I wasn't able to do my Blog-worthy photography. Super-fortunately for me, my camera dried out and is ready to be put back in action.

Lyrics of the Day

"We went down at the May parade, alcohol under my breath. There is something I've been meaning to do, I am dying to tell you." Guster I Spy

Anticipation

I have been sitting around all week, just waiting for the weekend. I am so excited for Red's birthday party tomorrow, I can barely stay in my chair right now. How excited is that exactly, you ask? Well, it's so excited that:

I'm baking cupcakes. I got white and chocolate cake and chocolate frosting and magic re-lighting candles and little candies that spell out happy birthday.

I got the decorations. We're not going overboard, but I got streamers and balloons and confetti. And a big sign that says "Happy Birthday" in colored, foil letters.

I'm getting a pedicure tonight. And I'm shaving my legs tomorrow and straightening my hair. You never do know who you can meet at Red's birthday party. And she is the world's best Wing Woman.

I'm carving a pumpkin. Didn't I already do that, you ask? Well, yes, I did, and here is a picture to prove it:

(mine is the one on the left and I called him Cletus the Slack-Jawed Yokel)

But I'm carving another pumpkin and this one will say "Happy Birthday."

Although Red and I have only been friends for a year now, she and I become closer all the time. She's a perfect fit in my life, and a wonderful friend. I want her to have a great birthday and to know that she means the world to me. In a city like LA, it's not easy to make strong personal connections and to keep them, so I do what I can to make sure that those I love know that they're loved.

Interjection

For the first time in what feels like forever, I've had a little bit of down-time at work today. My student is just now starting to get the hang of things and we actually got some work done today. We finished early, so I sent her home and have been catching up on a little web-reading with my spare hours. I just hopped on over to Nerve.com , where I stumbled upon this article: "A History of Single Life: the Truth About the Liberal 'War on Marriage'."

I've been reading this series for months now and always find myself nodding and even agreeing out-loud with what the author (Ken Mondschein) has to say. But today's article really got me thinking, because the older I get, the more I ponder the Marriage Question(s): Do I really want to get married? When? To whom?

Apparently, I'm not the only one asking this question. Mondschein says, "If you were to go to any town in America in 1940, pick a house at random and knock on the door (perhaps you were selling subscriptions to Grit magazine), there'd be a ninety-percent chance you'd find a married couple living there. Thirty years later, despite the new sexual freedom supposedly discovered by the Baby Boomers, the chance was still eight in ten. But then something funny happened: between 1998 and today — a mere eight years — the number of homes containing a married couple fell from six out of seven to one in two. "

That's baffling to me. That in such a short time, the tables have turned so drastically on something that is still (in many people's minds) considered an obligatory institution in this country. And it seems that while gay, bisexual and transgendered couples are fighting tooth and nail for the mere right to marry, heterosexual couples are turning their backs on the "sacred union." Mondschein's argument is an economical one - that the new financial landscape of our society is what's really breaking down the marital system, and I'm inclined to agree. But I also think that attitudes in general are shifting: people are less patient, more demanding, less willing to settle and struggle in quiet desperation.

I don't mean to get up on a soapbox here, but you wouldn't believe some of the reactions that I still get when I mention the ideas of not getting married or of not having children. People say, "Oh, you're just saying that, of course you'll get married/have kids. Everyone does." But they don't. More and more, people are choosing other roads to travel down. The average age for a first marriage keeps rising, and I doubt that there's a reversal in our near future.

What does my own future hold? If only I had a clue how to answer that question.

Lyrics of the Day

"Bells will ring, the sun will shine. Whoa, I'll be his and he'll be mine. We'll love until the end of time and we'll never be lonely anymore." The Crystals Going to the Chapel