Tag Archives: humor

Talk To Me Dammit! I’m Paying You! aka The Price of Communication

First off – my PT is progressing and I had a bit of worry as my ankle has been so oddly sore as of late. Got some good news that this might be progress as my unused ankle muscles are getting used again, hence the soreness. Going to aim for a quick test run this weekend to see how it goes and hopefully my road to recovery is closer to the end.

But while I was getting my ankle worked on, I got word that MY RENOVATION IS A GO! And Cinco De Mayo will now be more than a tequila-drenched holiday I use as an excuse to eat more guacamole but a day in which my new apartment begins its MAKEOVER!!!

And what girl doesn’t love a good makeover?

Contractor FINALLY got back to me and confirmed the “go” date! So what if it took him THREE days to do so. It’s not like I had a waking nightmare about it this morning. An aside about this – while I really dig my contractor, he does tend to email “like a guy.” Is that sexist? Whatever.

Now, I’ve never done the whole renovation thing before so I’ll admit, I need a bit of handholding. My tendency is to ask questions and hopefully get an answer ASAP. Not so. Not so. After I picked the guy, it took TWO days for him to reply with a yay! Like, really? I want to pay you. A lot of money. Isn’t this a cause for excitement? Is he really the right one for the job? Well, in a word…YES!

Why? Mostly because they were all like that. They all want the job but they all take days to get back to me. And believe it or not, he was one of the better communicators! Sigh.

As a result, I’ve had to tailor a bit of my emailing inquisitive style to acquire maximum results. That means longer emails with lazy bullet points aka hyphens. Does he answer all of them? Yes and then as we’ve gotten closer to closing the deal – not as much. That said, we also met again and I got all my questions answered in person. He is nothing but professional and easy going IRL.

What I’ve learned? Finding a good contractor is about as hard as finding a decent date but not nearly as impossible as finding a commitment worthy fella in NYC. Yep. I’ve made my decision and I’m committed…for at least 3-4 weeks! It’s truly an exciting time in my life.

Anyways, I think there are positives from this I can use towards my dating life. I’m learning to limit my communication output to only the most pertinent questions. Cuz of his response time lag, I’m also learning how patience can sometimes pay off. Do I wish he could just respond that he’s looking into things with a quick email or just let me know he’s read my email so I don’t sit there biting my nails waiting to see if we are actually going to do this? Hell yes! But that’s not the fella I picked. Instead, he’s quick with some responses, slower with others and then skips some altogether.

I do find it odd that in a business relationship he isn’t a bit more responsive to certain types of emails (aka I PICK YOU TO PAY!!!). Or maybe I’m just weird.

I also find it weirdly amusing that some emails go completely unanswered. In some circles this would be considered unprofessional. After all the crap I went through to pick him, I just think of it as another test of my patience. I tend to get stupidly giddy when he writes me back – I secretly think he’s training me Pavlovian style so that when he does email me, it’s like the heavens opened up. Snark aside, it also helps to know he’s stuck with me for at least a month and come hell or high water, I’m getting answers to all my questions eventually. There is great comfort in that. Plus he encourages me to buy lots and lots of products for my new updated apartment (I adore any excuse to shop – yes, total girl stereotype and I could give less than two shits)!

While I’m painting him out to be an uncommunicative spaz, he’s really not. This is the only aspect in which I’m currently figuring my way around. I know how I like to deal professionally but not everyone is the same. I respect and get the fact he’s crazy busy (he’s kinda popular and reasonably priced) so answering all the emails is probably not the most time savvy thing for him to do, especially if he’s in the thick of it. Am I creating excuses? Perhaps but hey, I’m paying the guy to do the job and so far, I’m filled with a good measure of confidence, even if the building has yet to begin.

What I do like about him – despite his email habits – he’s reliable. He is reassuringly calm and doesn’t make me nervous about the process. I feel like I’m in good hands. He’s professional, has good taste and comes up with really great ideas. Half the battle is picking the right person and the rest, you kinda just gotta go with it. While I’m not exactly one of those go with the flow types, I knew I needed someone I could talk to and bounce ideas off of. From start to finish, this is all ME. I found him. I hired him. I picked all the new cabinets, fixtures, appliances, layout, etc, etc, etc. None of my other friends has gone through this. I’m flying blind but I’m oddly feeling mostly fine about it. While it is without a doubt an intimidating endeavor, I figure if I got a good guy on my side, it’s a lot less so. And I know I picked a good one. Let’s hope my tune doesn’t change once all this goes underway.

It is funny though – right before I pulled the trigger on this fella, I had a mini panic attack. For a minute, I thought I had commitment issues. It’s scary to leap off the building and take a chance on a stranger. Is all this a greater metaphor for my actual dating life? Maybe. If anything, it makes for very amusing comparisons. Hell, this promises to be the most productive relationship I’ve ever committed myself to (!) AND it only needs to last 3-4 weeks! Yay to me and yay for commitment! But biggest yay of all to my brand new kitchen and bathroom!!!

A Taste of Honey

A few weeks ago two of my friends helped me perform a ritual – an exorcism of sorts.

Essentially, it was time to let go. We all have artifacts, mental and physical, from past relationships. We hang on to them at first because we don’t want to forget. And then we do and we rush to throw it all out.

I didn’t rush. I wanted to. I tried hard to. But I knew myself and at some point, life would let me know when it was time to say goodbye. It’s just that this time around, I had some friends to be along for the ride.

Well, without going into too much detail, I had a particular momento I needed to dump. But this momento had a strong and colorful history. I didn’t really want to throw it out without “honoring” what it had meant to me – what the relationship had meant to me.

I didn’t have much of an idea of what to do. I just told my friends about it and left the details up to them. After some rustling in my kitchen, my buddy came up with some dried flower tea, a bowl filled with water and a spoonful of honey. It was a cleansing. A reawakening. An acknowledgement of the past and the attempt to give it some peace. I’ve never really done this sort of thing but then again, I possess such a memorable item before either.

No need to go into each step of this ritual. We’ve all been there in some capacity. It was just funny to see it actualized at a time I could finally step away and look at where I had been. The most meaningful moment – my friend poured honey onto a spoon and gave it to me. At first, I thought he wanted me to eat it. Instead, he told me to pour it slowly into the bowl full of water. As the honey dripped into the water, he said it represented my letting go and all that I would be left with was the sweetness of that memory.

And the craziest thing – watching that honey fall, I could feel that bitterness dissolve into the water. I could enjoy the sweet without the rotten aftertaste that had haunted me for so long.

Do I think a spoonful of honey could do the trick so magically every time? Nah. It was a mix of camaraderie and time. It was the right time. To see it actualized in a random act was what made it so memorable and to be surrounded by the love, admiration and understanding of my friends was what made it unforgettable.

I felt lucky to have these people in my life and honestly, to have had him in my life too.

I wasn’t entirely sure I would ever memorialize this particular moment in this blog but I was watching “The Voice” (yah yah yah) and one of the contestants reminded me of an ex. Another ex. And I had such a weird fondness for this guy and I realized it was due in part to his likeness to said ex. At the time, we had ended abruptly. And suffice it to say, I took it hard. There was a lot of pain which turned to small fits of anger and then it just passed. And just like the spoon, I was left with only the sweetness of the memory. Which, in the end, is what I’m grateful to have experienced at all.

In the end, after all the big emotions pass, I am left with the choice to either be embittered but be emboldened. I cannot say the scars are gone. They remain. But they heal. And now they’re a part of me. When wounds are so fresh, it’s hard to even contemplate ever coming to peace with that experience. Eventually, though, it does. And it is my choice. To have minor regrets. To learn. To move on. To keep going even when it seems like an endless waiting game.

The bottom line – without these heartbreaks, I would never be who I am now and could not get to where I need to go.

Keeping the faith in that is a constant struggle. Some days are honeyed and some feel like a lump of coal. But I just gotta trust that time will keep me steady (eventually) and when I’m not, my friends will help me get through the bullshit until I can stand tall again. Or at the very least, they’ll have some honey on hand to help me lick the wound. ;)

The Saddle Beckons Once Again and I Succumb To Her Siren Call

Hiatus. Slump. Call it what you will but my love life has been at a standstill for a good long time. The time has not necessarily been wasted as hearts need to heal and mine is pretty much on the mend and beyond. Still, getting out there is a mind boggling thing. I remain an online presence but my social calendar has been a bit pre-empted by the polar vortex. So whatever else is a girl to do?

Well, call me a guinea pig and bring on the abuse!

Which brings me to my work buddy VD (the name will change if subsequent events turn out for the better aka unlikely). VD has been a great confidant of mine for my life woes (romantic and otherwise) and my only friend in real life who is actually a fairly devoted reader of this blog. He finds me amusing and my take on the single life as mostly entertaining. As such, every now and again, he likes to update me to various singles goings on around town. In fact, he actually likes to read about events in publications called “The Village Voice” and “The New York Times.” He’s old school. ;)

So the other day we were chatting and he excitedly tells me he saw an ad in “The Voice.” Commence eye roll. He then presents me with a page torn out from said publication which advertised flirting and fun at a local computer store downtown. Yep. A computer store, albeit a well-known techie joint in the city.

The first noticeable thing about the ad – there is a very happy girl holding up a sign. A single girl. More specifically, a single Asian girl. Duh. Asian girls and computer nerds go together like tofu and soy sauce. Naturally, these techie fiends would go for the cute Asian next door look. Yay for me! (I guess?!?!) :P

Next step, VD and I look up the website and as I suspected, you must pay to attend the event. Meh. Actually, let me be more specific. You would pay $20 for the event but you end up with $20 credit for the store. Feeling cheap and unmotivated, I complain loudly that I am not paying but even if I did, what the hell would I do with $20 credit to a computer store I NEVER GO TO.

At this moment, I’m fairly sure a light bulb went off in VD’s head. If someone else were in the room, I’m positive it happened. Full of schadenfreude-fueled adrenaline, he volunteers to pay for my dating adventure. Basically, not only will he get store credit, he’ll also get a highly entertaining story of me attempting to non-flirt my way through the event. Yippee!

I still did not agree and remained on the fence but word quickly spread through our little office and sure enough other peeps were volunteering to chip in a few bucks. Fairly soon, I buckled to the peer pressure of dating (mis)adventures and so it begins. Again.

Only after I agree to this do I actually start to think about the demographic that would be at this event. My friends, being the assholes they are, have now inputted into my brain that I’ll be stuck in a room with D&D playing sociopaths or basically the cast of “The Big Bang Theory.” At this moment, I am throwing my hands up and then covering my face while groaning – “why dear God why?!?!?”

Also did I mention the tag line? Make love happen. Excuse me while I gag on my bourbon. Agh!

Fuck it. I’m a grown up and this ain’t my first rodeo. Proof I’m a grown up – I’m renovating my home (whole other type of hell). Proof it ain’t my first rodeo – rewind this blog. Trust me – it ain’t.

So what are my pre-game feelings? I’m amused. The event is Thursday and I’m glad it’s soon. Rip the damn bandaid. Why wait? Truth is, I have been so out of the loop that this might actually be the kick in the ass to get me out there again. Or, at the very least, remind myself that dating can and should just be fun and what will be will be. Being back in the game isn’t always a physical thing. It’s about being mentally ready to go fight that fight. To enjoy what the fight can bring and not to be disheartened by what it will not. It’s a mind prep…which is frankly better than the mind fuck I’ve been enduring for far too long.

My inactivity hasn’t necessarily been a guilty making thing as it has been in the past. I’ve been happily hibernating during the polar vortex. But as it’s been warming and the holiday residuals have finally passed, the guilt of being an inactive single girl has been peeking out now and again. Maybe this unexpected “treat” has come at a good time. It wasn’t something I asked for and it isn’t something I’m dying to do. My expectations are low and at the very worst, I’ll have a fun story to tell. The bottom line – why not?

Plus, the funny little support system I had going at work in addition to my non-work pals…well, it’s always nice to know people are rooting for you, whether you win or not.

So predictions for the Thursday Night Event? If things go as they have in the past, there will be imbibing of alcohol. I will be chatting awkwardly with a few males but end up chatting happily and befriending a female. I’ll laugh at how socially awkward all the men folk were and be happy I gave it shot regardless of outcome. Based on past history, that’s my gut forecast.


Perhaps it’s my renewed energy from this fairly new year but hope does spring eternal. History has taught me to keep expectations low but optimism always seems to manifest itself somewhere. I’m still the same girl but maybe time has made me a little more savvy, a little more wise and a lot less intimidated by such silly social situations. How is it I always seem to find myself in these funny predicaments? The answer is simple – because I said yes.

Wish me luck. :P

The Bronx Representing…

Decided to be more passively active online. By this, I mean I now log into my online dating app every other day or more. As such, my inbox has been getting a few more hits. While none are particularly…appealing, they are, as always, WILDLY ENTERTAINING.

The two current faves are boys that reside in the Bronx.

On Friday, I was asked if I have ever taken a man’s virginity before. Not sure if this was an offer or just a conversation starter. I do wish he made it more clear. Alas, I was unable to type at the time as I was doubled over in laughter.

And just a few minutes ago, I was told my pictures were nice…and this fellow (from the Bronx like J. Lo) has a submissive “friend” who he will “make pay” (his words) for my pedicure. It wasn’t the most clearly written or well thought out email so I had to re-read twice. I mean, there wasn’t even a lead up to the submissive bit. It was just hi, nice pix and my submissive will…

Sigh. What happened to a little seduction first, people?

Sadly, also was unable to reply as his picture was most UNAPPEALING. That said, I think I could use a new color for my toes.

Happy fucking new year indeed!

Lady Vengeance Finds Some Faith

What comes around goes around. I love that saying. So many notable quotables are either overwhelmingly optimistic or way too cynical. This one just asks for balance in the world. And this is the one, as more time goes by, proves to always be true.

Naturally, there is a not-so-hidden wickedness in this idea. An eye for an eye and so on. I realize putting out such bad energy is not good for the soul, blah, blah, blah. That passes. But it never passes completely. It just lessens over time. It lessens cuz you no longer think or wish it but if the subject comes up, the pang is still there.

In this world of immediate gratification and scorned folks, paybacks are always on the menu but we never quite know when it will be served. Life is sneaky that way. And while it is a universally held belief that what goes up must come down, I had my doubts. Justice isn’t always served while on your watch. Sometimes, it happens when your off duty. So off duty you don’t even give a fuck anymore. But trust me, it happens, even if it’s not the way you pictured it.

What spurred this revelation you ask? Oddly enough, it came from some sideline viewing of a breakup. I have no real tie to the story and know one of the parties through work. The gist is this – his long time on-again, off-again who he never deemed good enough to marry found someone who does and now he’s re-thinking his whole philosophy. More context, yes? Well not two weeks ago, the same fellow was dating like a fiend in order to get away from on-again, off-again in order to find someone (in a more methodical fashion) who he deemed more worthy of his lifelong affection. I mostly tuned this out cuz said gent has always spoken of this particular lady in an offhand manner, which due to my current male hate state of mind, was I needed to avoid. No thanks. But suffice to say, his story, at the time, did not extinguish my fire. Blah blah blah. Fast forward and oh, the mighty have fallen.

Do I sound glib or heartless? I don’t mean to be. It’s sad to see someone be so devastated but it’s also something that is of his own doing. My sympathy might be higher if the circumstances did not hold a certain repugnancy for me but in truth, they do. They most passionately do.

It’s always upset me when relationships are so very lopsided. Not that it’s not common but as per usual in my world, the ladies are the ones overcompensating for these meandering fucks aka men. Oh, did I mention, it’s usually the guys I’m friends with? Yah…not great.

Maybe cuz I’m a lady or maybe I just root for the underdog but I’ve always found it so upsetting when one refers to their partner in such disrespectful ways behind her back. It’s not the usual couple bitching either. It’s the kind of offhand manner in which they speak of their partners. As if they don’t matter (cuz they don’t). But they’re all hugs and kisses when they are with them. It’s not that they don’t have affection for their “loved” ones, it’s that they love themselves more. It makes me wonder if he’s actually invested in her or just lonely enough to “settle” for the current edition. Watching that dynamic always makes me a little sick and a lot angry. There is no kindness. I’ve found that whenever this happens, especially if they speak ill of their partner from the start, they’ve already marked the end. At the most cynical, these people are simply placeholders until the person they really want arrives. At its most truthful, it’s that these are people are afraid to be alone and need companionship to fill their void. Fuck ‘em.

As I said, man hate was at a particular high.

So, color me surprised, that such a “sad” event has actually had a weirdly profound effect on me. While my man hate was actually waning on its own, this has helped squelch it a little bit more. Perhaps it was watching a man in agony over a lady he’s pushed aside so many times. Or maybe it was just seeing the universe in action. I honestly do not wish this man pain but seeing the world mete out its own brand of justice filled me with…hope. Odd right? Life is so funny that way. I cry and then I laugh.

My friend sent me a story about a male newlywed who realized marriage wasn’t for him. This was super misleading as it was more about the affirmation of love and marriage than what the title would suggest. Basically, on the brink of his wedding, the guy was concerned if he was ready for marriage/if he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this girl, etc. In seeking some sort of answer, he went to his dad, who schooled him as such – marriage isn’t for you but for your partner. It’s about lack of selfishness. It’s about giving. It’s about wanting to love someone more than yourself. About making them happy for the rest of their lives (not you, well, not ALL about you) and they, hopefully, in turn for you.

At first I was puzzled cuz it seemed to go against all logic. Make the person happy with no thought to yourself? Huh? What? And then it started to make more sense. It’s not that our selfishness will not find us. But it’s the desire to redirect that. To think of someone other than me, me me. The best example of pure and unconditional love is between a parent and child. The kid comes first. Period. And when my mind followed that road, the rest of the article’s logic kicked in.

When I think of the couples that do work, I realize they do share the quality the newlywed’s dad spoke of – they think of the other person first. Not always. But a lot. I’ve seen my friends do acts of kindness big and small (that can easily be taken for granted) for their significant others and it’s purely for their sake. To be their support system. To put whatever their needs are at the moment above their own. To always think of themselves as a unit. Time will tell whether they last the lifetime but their relationships do seem healthy. They just make sense. Bottom line, they don’t make me roll my eyes.

These other ones…the ones filled with poor decisions made in easy moments by weak fucks. Those just make me mad. The focus of love is no longer on the whole but on the part so why should it ever be a surprise when it falls apart?

My friend once told me I love hard, real fucking hard. I understand that better everyday. I’m fiercely loyal and true. And when you break my heart, I still find justifications for the actions. Understanding actions where no consideration has been dealt to me. How I would put them above me. Thinking about all of this within the context of that article put my head on a bit straighter too. All this time, I felt so foolish for caring above my load. But now, I see it isn’t so much that I was pathetic. It’s just the focus of my affections was off, not the actual affection itself.

Isn’t it funny…when something ends, the hardest part is always re-learning to put yourself first again. To let everyone else be second place. To make sure what he wants and who he is no longer has any weight in my life. I never fully realized how beautiful that actually can be. To have been able to put aside my notions for that moment in time. To love and want to love even if you aren’t loved equally in return. Unrequited can suck but knowing I have the capacity for that type of affection is also a reward. It just doesn’t feel that way at the time.

Also revelatory is being thankful for the guys that didn’t work out after all. In the moment, you want nothing more than to win their affections forever and ever! But when that moment passes, you realize – oh wait, you were never worthy to begin with. You could never give me what I needed. Seeing that darkness turn to light…that all those horrible turns these men did unto me were actually gifts. Ha! It’s not the first time I’ve thought about it in this context but it’s been long enough where it warrants epiphany status. Thanks assholes for breaking my heart. Not so much for the breaking but for teaching me lessons I couldn’t have learned any other way.

So now I acknowledge. I know how to love and I know how I want to be loved and how I deserved to be love. There is some wiggle room in there but not a ton. What distresses me, in all these terrible man circumstances, is how being with someone who has no idea what they want can be so incredibly detrimental. Perhaps it’s not just lopsidedness of affection of a lack of focus and direction. One side has it. The other doesn’t know what the fuck they’re doing. Fun times!

My friend recently told me it’s great that I know what I want cuz so few do. I can’t say I have my life mapped out in any particular way but I have fairly strong (not set, note the difference) ideas of what I want and deserve in my life. I don’t have some weird rom com checklist of man characteristics I need fulfilled. I know that even if I had a list, I’d throw it away the minute I met someone I liked. It’s how it goes.

I’m aware of compromise and I’m aware of my shortcomings too. But hearing my dear friend say that gave me such reassurance. So many times, I’ve been chided for my definitive nature. For my passionate beliefs one way or the other. For my morals that might border on self-righteousness. That perhaps I should lower my standards or give people more chances, even though I already know the answer. I’ve doubted myself so much cuz I let myself be susceptible to everyone else’s doubts. As such, I am constantly reevaluating my morals, my belief system, my way of being.

Well, I’m a bit more tired and more weary from this well-worn road. I will always wonder if my road is the best one I could have traveled. What I will carry with me NOW is that the road I chose WAS the best road because it was the road I needed to go down AT THE TIME. I will own this.

Choices always seem easier in hindsight, don’t they? Being plagued by misgivings is a part of life but it doesn’t mean I have to always fall under its pressures.

My friend was right. I do know what I want. What I lacked was the confidence to stand by my convictions. I’m not an easily swayed person but I am a curious one. If odd paths look enticing, I will try them out but if they’re not for me, they’re not for me. I can say that now. But maybe not always back then.

Life can be paved with regret and I think every life should have a few. If only to say, I made some mistakes and yet here I stand. When things don’t go my way, my mind always hits all the details. As if wearing my hair down versus up one day would suddenly turn the tide. Why is it so human of us to always think ONE thing affects the entirety? The butterfly effect is not always true to life.

I still struggle with my “way” as I ramble down my current path. I will always second guess certain actions and not fully trust in the adage that things will work out for the best. Too neurotic and human to trust in faith so easily. But on days like today, maybe I can.

So my resurgence of faith has come out of something sad for my acquaintance. To find faith in someone’s tragedy is oddly sweet. Granted it’s not my sadness for once but even if it were, I think it would be alright if another saw a silver lining on my dark cloud. It’s befitting of the balance. It would be more acceptable to say I met a wonderful couple and they made me believe in love again. But alas, in my twisted manner, it is the undoing of an incongruent pair that has made me believe life can and will always find its equilibrium.

That, and karma is a motherfucking bitch (and one I hope will be devastatingly kind to me…and maybe not so kind to others). I’m a good person (really!) but I’m still a human! Always human.

Inglorious Bastards Indeed

Well one day in and I’ve nearly given up alcohol. Yep, the hangover was THAT bad.

Welcome to 37.

Seems every post about my thoughts on dating are more about reasons on why I don’t want to date. Still on that kick.

The other day my friend who has started to go online again was looking for advice on letting someone nice down. Helped her out and it was a good exchange between her and the fellow. Basically, she’s in the zone, full of optimism and hope. Wide-eyed optimism. Listening to her, I felt a slight pang of nostalgia for my dating life a few years ago (gawd, has it really been a few years?!?).

Truth is, to be in her position, you have to have a certain amount of naiveté. I mean that in the best possible way. And I’m simply not there right now. Or perhaps anymore is a better word. I’m not sure if I can really go back.

I’ve become the thing I hoped to never be – jaded, cynical and underwhelmed by the entire dating process. And for now, I’m OK with that.

Dating should be fun, whether the guy is lasting just for a few hours, a few months or more than that. The point is to get to know folks and see if chemistry happens. I still believe in that but I’ve admittedly been shying away from the whole process this entire year. I lack the motivation.

My main excuse is that I am reassessing and getting my head on straighter. I still stand by that. As times goes on, I wonder if it is an actual excuse. As time goes on, I don’t believe it is. See that big red dot on the map? It’s where I’m at.

To add fuel to the non-dating fire, I’ve also been inundated with fairly unpopular news about the opposite sex. To say I’m down on the male gender is no mere understatement. Do things happen in waves? Cuz it seems as though a subsection of my friends have suddenly been mowed down emotionally by their men folks’ wrongdoings and it’s just…disheartening.

I realize women can be just as duplicitous, callous and horrible but those aren’t the stories I’ve been hearing. It’s just story after story of how idiotic these guys are. My heart goes out to my ladies being fucked around by these men who know not better and do so much worse.

And yes, this has affected my vision and view of the world as of late. When thinking about dating, one should not feel an automatic distrust of all those who possess a penis.

To wit, this girl ain’t dating anytime soon. Unless…unless…but I’m not holding out for unless. I just have to be open to unless when it comes along.

Nevertheless, beyond the undesirability of courting, I’m also realizing I need a time out from these bad boy news. It’s not so much that I won’t be there for my pals in need. I always will. But after the emotional bullshit I’ve had to undergo the past year or so, I know me well enough to know I need to take a step back. It’s not my life. My tendency for deep sympathy, while it seems like a great quality to have in a friend, takes quite a toll on me when it really shouldn’t. Trying to curb that particular enthusiasm.

So instead of getting worked up about circumstances that are not my own, the energy seems better served towards myself. If a little bit of distance gives me a lot more sanity, it seems the smarter way to go. Believe me when I say it has been a very hard lesson to learn and one I am trying NOT to ignore in the midst of all my friends’ dramas. And just to be sure, this is in no way the fault of these friends. They simply need a shoulder. It’s my overabundance of sympathy and lack of emotional boundaries. I need to limit myself. More so than they do. Figuring out the balance of that.

Bizarre. It’s this funny thing when you finally catch on to one of your cycles and you actually try to stop it. Does it stop right then and there or is awareness just the start of it? My past experience indicates that while catching the issue is good, it’s very much about consciously trying to make changes once you see what you’ve been doing. Or how else does it go about changing?

Many people say they know themselves and the way they are. Some characteristics they know are terrible and seek not to change it. It’s just how they are, they say. Other folks mildly take note of their issues but never see the big picture and the consequences their actions reek. If they do…why it’s merely just how they are. Accept it. What a convenient excuse to always employ.

Moderation is key. There are parts of me I cannot fully change. But there are tweaks that can be made. There is an arrogance I used to have (and still do at times) to be accepted for all the good/bad I can be. While we all strive for acceptance, we all have to compromise too. And that’s not always a bad thing. I try to responsible for my actions and what it can actually mean to others. I don’t always succeed but I try. Lately, I feel a bit more humbled and a little less stubborn in my views of the world. To be driven to the edge takes a lot more than it used to but every person has her limits.

Oddly enough, being more open to various pathways has also made me feel a lot more secure in my world view perspective. My way might not be the only one but when it’s my turn up at bat, I know what will ultimately work best for me. It’s about being open enough to changes but strong enough in my convictions to call it out when it’s fucked up.

For my birthday, my co-worker gave me this note pad with the heading – Keep It Fucking Real. She said it just fit me. It has been a really long time since someone used that the term “real” to describe me. The last time I actually remember was in my early 20s. I don’t think I’ve been less “real” in the intervening years. More the opposite. It’s just that I had temporarily forgotten the notion and this notepad now serves as my reminder. Of my quality. Of who I am.

Call me what you will but fake can never be one of the adjectives you use.

So status quo for Day 2 of 37. Still dateless and on hiatus from the whole scene for an indefinite period right now. Truly my head is still in need of straightening and my views on what men are soooooooo very less than positive. It’s unfair and bottom line, it’s a very shitty attitude to have. I am not sure I can ape the genuine optimism my friend currently has for the dating world BUT I believe I have the ability to “go with the motherfucking flow” should someone come my way – bad attitude or not.

Cuz for all my cynicism and over thinking, when a door opens up…it’s still my choice to walk through it and if it is a promising one, I hope I have the energy to sprint on through to the other side.

The World Will Not End

This is why I don’t believe in the apocalypse. It’s just not sensible.



You close a door and you think it’s closed but I’ve noticed as of late that men seem to take this as a temporary ‘out of order’ sign and not as an actual goodbye.

Yesterday, while dawdling at work, I got a LinkedIn request…from Cappy.

A quick recap of me and Cappy. We went out the beginning of last year during my biggest online dating binge to date. We had a killer first date (ripe for the beginnings of something good) but then, he unexpectedly dumped me the next day albeit for a decent reason (although I should have seen this as slightly unstable but I left the door open as I was still high off the date). Then out of the blue, he wrote me a REALLY nice note on Valentine’s Day (of all fucking days) and wooed me back for date 2. Date 2 was good as well but he got impatient, things got awkward and let’s just say he handled things immaturely at best. In short, he was an idiot.

So when I saw this request, several simultaneous thoughts spun through my mind. And in no particular order:

1. WTF!??!?
2. Thank god I’m not on Facebook.
3. Why in the world does he want to network with me?
4. Did he forget what a rude fucking idiot he was to me?
5. Does he still actually have my email?
6. WTF?!??! Like really…WTF?!!?

I deleted the email and went on with my day but not until I sent a few texts/emails to friends proclaiming the WTF of the situation. My friend’s reactions were fairly universal – HA!

Yep. I got great pals.

So last night I logged into LinkedIn…which, to be honest, I never do except to accept some requests here and there. I barely know how the damn site works. And there his little request sat in my inbox…taunting me. I admit it. I stared at the profile pic and wanted to click on it – see what he’s been up to. But pride reared its head and I didn’t want to have appeared on his visitor list. What would the point be? Oh, the drama of the internet age!

It makes me laugh to think he had to look me up or something like that. Maybe it just went through his entire address book and a blanket email was sent. Who knows?! Who cares?!

I’ll be even more honest. It’s an ego boost (to a degree). We all want to feel like we resonate or aren’t so easily forgotten. Getting some odd blast from the past tends to have that effect. Oh yah, I guess you still remember me or even think of me. Enough time has passed that I can consider that a nice thing but not enough time has passed where I forgot how disrespectful he was to me.

Cappy was an odd one who came about at an odd time. He was the only guy who actually won me over after the multiple breaks with Mr. N. I had hope for Cappy but within a month, that all dissolved. I consider it a bullet dodged. Once again, idiot…and I’ll follow that up with a side of moron.

While it did provoke a walk down memory lane, I can’t say I feel anything more than surprise or indifference. To see his name pop up after all this time is just…funny. Really!??! Oh and, for the record, I declined his request.

Now and again, some guys I spoke to online still pop up on my IM even though I dropped those idiots long ago. Hell, we never even met. No means no. And thank gawd for BLOCKING.

The constantly returning beau…a new phenomenon in my life.

I’d like to know what it is they are thinking in their heads. Mostly because I don’t feel that any of these men who make guest appearances ever ended things on a decent or respectful manner with me. Instead, they were rude, hurtful and/or mean. I can take it like a grown up but I do wonder why.

Is it simply a whim cuz they saw my name and thought of me? Is it that they miss me? Is it some sort of validation for their ego? Do they just want to see if that door is potentially open? Do they even give a shit about me? Do you think that after you treat me like a second rate citizen that you deserve an answer?

I’ll never know. To them it’s just a stroke of a key. To me, it becomes this odd puzzle. The good news is its minimal effect on my life – more of a fun quirk to report to my friends. The bad news is (depending on who sends me the missive), it just reminds me of a lot of things I’d prefer to move on from. The flip side of that is it also reminds me of how far I’ve come.

You get back what you put in is my philosophy. I am a girl who is racked with the need to answer, ever ready with a comeback. But I’m learning no response is sometimes the best one. What’s the point of opening up that can of worms again? I know what follows. Nothing good. The crux of the issue is this. I am considerate, overly so…hence my need to answer. But I am considerate to those who have offered me no consideration in return. Hence, new philosophy of only giving what I get back in return.

Sometimes it can be a struggle – minor or not. These people did touch my life in some fashion and oddly enough, I want to honor that. But that doesn’t always do well for self-preservation. So my tribute will remain silent and in my memory and in that tiny sliver of my heart they once resided (but then stomped on like assholes without conscience…nope, not bitter!). Sometimes it’s not worth the trouble when all you get is bullshit from the other end. I might be sincere but more often than not, they are not. Or I’d get more than a passive missive for attention.

Attraction is such a weird thing. I fully accept that I will probably always be attracted to or find the men I spent time with attractive. But I do this knowing that the time for us has also passed. Some folks can revisit. For me, a REALLY good case would have to be made to ever go down that road again. And a mindless request isn’t the way to go about it.

But I have resigned myself to this much…people will pop up now and again (I have no power to stop them) but I’ll continue to do what I do and put them exactly where they belong…in the trash.

Inside My BFF

Well, she’s not my BFF but I’d like her to be.

Just started to watch “Inside Amy Schumer” and dear gawd…a gut was indeed busted.

Take a gander.

She gives great advice.

She knows what a girl like me is worth.

She knows where we’ve all been.

She knows what feminism is all about – total engulfment!

And more than likely, she will NEVER judge you cuz…well, see above…AND below!

If I’m the Highest Bidder, Does That Mean I Bought the Right to Punch You in the Face? Pretty Please???!?!?!?

So, if you’re only joining us today, let me tell you…I really have a sick interest (some say obsession) with singles events. Not that I honestly believe I will meet the love of my life. More that I find them such bizarre disasters I like to sit back and enjoy the ride with several drinks in hand.

I usually go to these events alone and despite the initial weird beginning, I end up having a blast. Probably due to the massive amount of alcohol I consumed. But mostly due to the fact I am privately narrating the entire evening and hoping I remember some of it to either blog or tell to my friends with lots of hand gestures.

Well, I try to get a lil bit out of my comfort zone and they say misery loves company…

This event – the aforementioned dating auction – was an invitation I got from a friend (who was also attending). Her friend was organizing the event and hell…dating auction?! Don’t have to ask me twice. I’ll confess it doesn’t invite the same sort of glee as speed dating does for me (sigh) but I think that’s mostly due to the fact I am a part of the festivities. Auctions…well…there is the person on the stage and then there’s the people who bid.

I was not on either side of the equation. A spoiled sport you say? Maybe but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Met up with my lil group of three ladies and together we were the gang of four. And as any good pal should do, she provided me answers to my burning questions…what exactly will it be like? What if nobody bids on you? What if you end up going out with a really creepy person? What if? What if?

Answers! Apparently all those who volunteered to be “sold” promised to bring at least a few of their friends to bid on him/her, all in the name of charity. Makes sense. Nobody wants to see anyone up there humiliated and one can never tell with a crowd on the brink of inebriation.

Speaking of which…I got there when it was still filling out so getting a drink shouldn’t be much of a problem. Let’s just say the service irked me. As did the idiot girls who just stood in my way WITH THEIR DRINKS IN HAND. I scooted them away. Nobody gets between me and my booze. Now word to the wise…at these events, it’s best to stick to the simple stuff, unless you like really sugary, syrupy drinks. I do not. Gimme a wine please. Simple. Got one but because of the crap service, it remained my ONLY drink of the night. I know…who am I?

Now, while I am more of singles event solo kind of gal, I’m really glad I had a group to chill with in this case. Sometimes it’s easier to mingle on your own. You’re forced to make friends cuz you simply don’t want to be the Debbie Downer in the corner. I always think I look like a pissed off lamb who maybe wandered into the wrong party.

In this environment, everyone had gone off in their own cliques. I soon learned it was an event organized by a running group. They seem to do this annually so many of the crowd already knew one another. And as nice and open as people might be, when people know people, they don’t really care to meet new people. It’s just fact. Felt a bit like high school without the mean girls.

Events like this bring out the bummer in me too. The auction crowd was OVERWHELMINGLY female. At least 4 to 1 in the girl/guy element. A bit hysterical but also it made sense. What guy would willingly go to this sort of thing? Girls? Hell, they think it sounds like fun and go for it. It’s our way.

What depresses me is how it can illuminate the large number of attractive well-to-do women in the city who are essentially your “competition” for the few eligible and decent men out there. Our numbers were high and it just made me feel a bit small and a bit lost in that field of beautifully dressed ladies. I hate thinking that way though cuz in the end, love is a game of luck and chance. The numbers are simply distraction. Still, I’m only human.


That said, upon closer examination, I also realized this wasn’t my crowd. AT ALL. Was contemplating how to make one understand. And it hit me as I was watching Ellen DeGeneres interview Jennifer Aniston. Holy fuck! I was surrounded by a sea of Jennifer Anistons. Apologies to those of you who are fans of the “Friends” actress but to my eyes, she is just the epitome of bland and boring. Nothing about her pops. I’ll admit my reaction is probably a bit nuts but her beloved status violently annoys as I just have never understood why. As an actress, she’s mediocre and flat. As a celebrity, her claim to fame lies in a being the spouse who was ditched. It sucks but her star rose mostly because of that. Not in spite of it. Apart from that, there is nothing distinctive about her. Just like this crowd. No wonder I felt so fucking pissy. Irrational. I know.

When we checked in, they handed us a number (to use for bidding) and a brochure listing out the ladies and gents for sale. Swoon.

The brochure pretty much summed up my morbid curiosity for the auction. Put simply, I got really excited to see people get sold.

Have I taken too long to get to the main event? Well, then you got a little taste of what I had to deal with before they got the show on the road. It was supposed to start at 7:30pm. Because they wanted the maximum number of people, they waited another 45 minutes. To say I was antsy…understatement. Sell the fucking people already.

So this is how it works – a guy or gal will go up to be auctioned off. The date plan is also revealed by the slide show that accompanies the person on stage. And depending on the sex of the candidate, the auctioneer is of the opposite gender. And now a word about our emcees…

The male auctioneer was a bit like Ryan Seacrest if he drank too much scotch, spent too much time in the sun and realized he was just a two bit Dick Clark and nowhere near the real thing. Yah…but a lil less sad than that.

The lady auctioneer…oi. She deserves a posting all her own. First off, she was fairly noticeable as the only woman in a sequined gown. Fair enough. If you’re gonna be a Vanna White like personality, go full throttle. Now I am very pro lady and while I do partake in the cattiness of my sex, I generally hate falling into that cliche. But know what? If I’m a girl and I remark negatively on any woman’s clothing, I’m suddenly a catty bitch. Can’t win so I say…color me catty.

Lady auctioneer wore a front plungy minty green sequined dress that was less than forgiving. Granted, the woman was probably a size 2 or smaller but if you wear a dress like that, you have to understand all the pitfalls of it too. All shine and no content. If she had the curves to fill it out, it would have hung on her the way it was supposed to. Truth also, I wouldn’t also bitch about it if she didn’t spend all night making sure her boobs were still inside her dress. Let me clarify, by checking to see if the girls were in place, what I meant is she would caress the piece of fabric covering her breasts OVER AND OVER. I get it. You have perky boobs. I’m over it. Stop trying to hard and get up there and start selling!

First person up was the only person of color (the field was pretty monochrome – lily fucking white). Asian fella. I saw him around. He seemed really nice, approachable and cuter than his picture. I can pretty much guarantee that they ALL looked better in person than their pictures. Good on them. The price started at $100. Honestly, I was a bit in shock at the starting price points and suddenly realized this crowd has fairly deep pockets. Alrightee then. If I considered bidding, that is definitely not happening now. He gets bought at $650 or thereabouts. Yay him. Oh also, someone shouted out “take off your shirt.” Must be fun to be a piece of meat.

Oh and sequined caressing lady…she’s got a potty mouth on her but truly it’s not sexy or cool broad like. In keeping with her theme, she’s simply trying too hard. Oh and she’s sucks at running an auction – barely able to keep track of the money she was raising! Blegh. I am not a fan.

The girl goes up. She’s cute. Runner’s slim build and tallish. An attorney or something schmancy. Seriously, this is not my crowd. She’s slightly embarrassed by the attention but a trooper. She goes for $700 or so.

The guy emcee is no second rate Seacrest for no reason. He knows how to run the show. Not only that, he was really good at selling the product and making a game of it. Goading the audience with good cheer and not crude humor (hello sequined lady) and making the fellas up the ante to win the affections of the lady for sale. Hurrah.

My thoughts…first off, not as fun as I wanted it to be. Since the crowd all knew each other, they were pretty much bidding on each other for fun, thus taking out the inherent tension of buying affection. It didn’t seem very romantic like at all. No guy yelling out $10,000! as the crowd dramatically shuts up and parts for him to make his way to the woman he just purchased. Color me bummed.

Which brings me to my other gripe – I couldn’t really SEE who was bidding at all so a lot of the excitement of such an event was lost. I want to feel the victory of the buyer! But how can I when I can’t see who won the bid!?!?! Dammit.

The next few candidates went in quick succession (I’ll give them points for speed). One guy was good natured but didn’t fare as well as others. Still, he raised a decent amount. I hope he didn’t feel bad. The girls naturally did better. And considering the dearth of men there…I’m thinking it was a lot of friends pooling money together and working it that way.

I noticed one girl kept getting bid on by a slightly creepy looking fellow. Luckily for her, her friends kept sweeping in to help her out. Those…are good friends. Charity and watching her back.

Anyways, slowly but surely two friends had to leave and ditched out early. My lone friend and I decided to see a few more people before we jetted ourselves. The last girl we saw was a short curvy little thing – a lot up top and a lot in the caboose, all dressed up in a tight stripy dress. Girl knew what she was doing. She also was clearly a favorite going in. Either that or she had a lot of loud friends, some of which were right next to me.

In front of me were a bunch of (for lack of better term) frat boys. All tall with slight beer bellies, wearing boring pressed shirts that were slightly disheveled as they were starting to drink like champs. Yes, the fists in my mind were lightly pummeling each of their faces.

So I mention such idiot men only because curvy girl’s pals start grabbing one of the surprised gents, telling him to bid higher. Look at her! Look at that body! She’s so fun (probably cuz of the body)! You’d have so much fun with her (and her body)! Gosh, to have friends like that. Dare to dream.

With that cue, I watched her hit about $900 (maybe it was her height that didn’t let her break the $1000 mark) and it was time to leave.

In total I saw about 9 people get bought and sold. Only saw half the show but while I like to complete all things I do, I got a pretty good idea of what lay in store for the second half. My only regret was that I wouldn’t be able to see more drunken people bidding, thus breaking the $1000 mark. And the saddest pity of all, I wouldn’t get to see sequined lady have that one final caress. Relegated to my dreams (nightmares) I suppose.

All snark aside, the crowd was better than I thought they would be. I’ve seen bigger douches at bars I’ve mistakenly wandered into (cuz bars I would willingly go to do not have douches within touching distance). It’s just they were all so bland. These people were cliqued out to begin with and while I am glad I had my own little group to hang with, it wasn’t really a crowd conducive to chatting it up with random strangers. It was like a dressed up event for people who already knew one another. Not a bad thing but kinda incestuous too. Why do you want to bid on people you hang out with all the time? It’s called brunch. Schedule it and I guarantee it’s cheaper.

And with that I check this little item off the secret dating bucket list. Hurrah!


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