Karma’s a Bitch.

I'm sorry for the lapse in posts, I've not only been nursing a badly bruised heart, but also have had a hell of a time connecting to the internet lately. (Seriously... any CPU geniuses wanna help a girl out?)

Anyway, my friends would all tell you that they love my dating life, because they’re all in committed relationships and here I am, “happy as a clam” as far as they know, dating most of the under-40 year old population within an hour of my house. They like living vicariously through me, and get a kick out of my stories. And I play it off as though that’s all I want; a little entertainment, a free dinner, some attention, a good laugh.

Well, you know what?? That isn’t what I want. I was really fucking exciting to begin a new relationship, after all this time has gone by; after thinking I’d never find someone I liked on that level again. It was exhilarating to know that there was someone who felt the same way about me, too. Much to my friends’ chagrin, I was thrilled to dive off the single boat into Boyfriend Sea.

I’ve spent much of this past week dwelling on what happened on Easter. How could he? How could I let something like that happen? How could that delicious quiche have gone to waste? I’m a good person. I’m generous, kind, and thoughtful. I have a lot of love to give! I know… everything happens for a reason. What was the reason!?

The more I think about it, the more I realize that I do, in fact, deserve what happened. Here it is. I’ll admit it. I’ve been in the same situation before. But I wasn’t the one being played like a fool. Karma, you are such a bitch.

About a year and a half ago, pretty soon after the Breakup, I spent so much time and energy looking for a new guy that I didn’t care where I found him. Hours a day were spent on Craigslist personals, Match.com, eHarmony, Myspace, Facebook, Engage, and any other website you could think up. I wasn’t just perusing; I was a cat in heat and on the prowl.

I had posted one of my many Craigslist ads, proclaiming that I was “new to the area” (lies) and looking for “new friends,” (or sexy boys for dating and kissing) along with the best picture of myself I could find. It wasn’t long before my inbox was filled as usual, but one caught my eye. Exceptionally well-spoken, a little suggestive, and extremely vague, I couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was about this response that I liked. The mystery? The fact that he didn’t suggest kinky sexual activities, or tell me what car he drove? His picture was from 200 feet away, taken on the beach, from behind. He was hiding something. Maybe I knew him! I had to know.

We exchanged emails and I asked plenty of direct questions and received very subtle answers. By this point, all this mystery guy had told me was his first name (Brent), his age (27), the area he owned a house/ lived in (down the street from me and very swank), and his occupation (engineer). But that was it. It finally struck me one day…. He had to have a girlfriend, and I asked. For the first time, he was direct.

“It isn’t as black and white as that. I’m not going to lie. I do. But she’s moving across the country in the next few weeks and then it’s over. I’m not saying I’m single, or trying to have something lined up. I’m just open to meeting new people.”

Fair enough. He started to open up a bit more. He even sent me the link to his Myspace account. And he was hot! He wouldn’t add me to his friends, for fear that I could start leaving him comments or something. Looking at his profile, I found he was on the same marathon team as my roommate (who said she had met both him AND his girlfriend, who she said was a “total snot”) and had a seemingly perfect relationship with said snot, who posted him obnoxious “I love you Baby!” comments daily. Eventually, he admitted that they lived together. As much as my conscience should have kicked in and given me the “do unto others” speech, it didn’t. We made plans to meet.

Brent arrived at my house the following day, but insisted that I meet him down the street in case my roommate saw and recognized him (little did he know I had already showed her his MySpace) . I got into his (beautiful, foreign) car and we headed off to the countryside for a day of wine-tasting. Conversation was awkward, and I finally asked him how he’d phrased his plans for the day to his photographer girlfriend. “I didn’t have to,” he told me. “She never asks what I’m doing when she’s in the middle of a shoot.” Our flirting heated up with each glass of wine. After a few hours he said he needed to be getting back, but he would try and get out later to see me again. He dropped me off, and only an hour later texted me, saying he would come over as long as my roommate wouldn’t see him come in. I promised. When he arrived, he held my jacket in his hand (which I had unintentionally forgotten in the backseat) and berated me for being careless. As wrong as it was, I ate up every moment of it. We watched a movie on my bed, but didn’t kiss.

It started off innocently enough; occasional meetings, flirting, but no kissing or touching. An obvious attraction between us grew, and he called me one night, drunk and standing outside my bedroom window, demanding that I let him in. Despite my protests, he kissed me and we stayed up until the sun rose, making out aggressively; exhilarated in our sexual tension and how immoral it was.

Weeks turned into months, and when I would ask him when she was moving, he would give me vague answers. “It’s looking like next month.” “Sometime in the next few weeks.” “She hasn’t signed her lease yet but I think she found a place.” Our encounters became more frequent and his excuses for her began to run dry, until finally one day they packed up her things and drove her car across the country. He called me from the airport before his flight home left, to let me know he had gotten me a gift in NYC and couldn’t wait to see me.

Occasional turned frequent, and things seemed to be going well. I asked, one evening, why he still wouldn’t add me to his Myspace. “We haven’t quite broken up yet.” My heart dropped. From then on, things were strained, and we told each other less and less about our lives (yet the makeout sessions didn’t change). I casually announced one evening that I would be moving back down south, and his reaction made me wonder if we were experiencing two different relationships. I couldn’t understand how he could be so upset that I would leave, considering he was already in a relationship with someone else. We hardly spoke for the next few weeks.

Two nights before I left, he called me drunk and outside my window again, demanding that he come up. “I broke up with her. It’s done. Don’t leave me. You don’t have to leave now.” I, of course, wasn’t leaving over him, and was leaving despite him.

Since I moved here a year ago, and although I have many friends who I could stay with when I go to visit my old city every once in awhile, he is invariably the one I call. Without my asking if I can stay, he asks what time I’ll be in town and where he'll meet up with me. I go out, see my friends, have a great time, and we meet up at the end of the night for a hot makeout sesh like the old days. Other than my visits, we very rarely speak. Recently, he started IMing me more frequently, and told me how much he looks forward to my visits, and that he will be down in my area over the summer for a wedding and wants to see me. He casually mentioned that his ex-girlfriend had moved back from New York, but refused to talk about it when I asked him if they had seen each other.

Just days ago, I took a peek at his Myspace page, to find that he is now “In a Relationship” with her again. Interesting how things come full circle.

Oh, karma. You vengeful slutface.

Hiding more than eggs

Easter 2008: Officially SUCKS. Betrayed and bombed off cheap champagne.

Erwin and I have spent most of the past week together, completely falling for each other, and it's been as great as I had thought it would be. He's taken me out with his work friends, we've spent the night at each others' house, and he's been nothing but a gentleman. I told him originally that I'm kind of a prude when it comes to hooking up with someone I'm not in a relationship with, and he's been nothing but supportive than that. We even told each other we should wait until May before we start messing around, because as he says, that way we can build a strong meaningful relationship before we introduce sex into it, according to a book he read. Normally charming, but as it turns out, its quite the opposite.

He has a girlfriend.

And no, I didn't see it coming. I didn't see any signs. He came over this morning for the Easter brunch that I had spent all morning cooking; wanting to impress him with my cooking skills and do something special for him. He showed up acting distant (totally out of character) and sat around while I served it, hardly speaking. Every couple minutes he would receive a text that he would respond to immediately, despite the fact that he usually doesn't even bring his phone with him. I didn't really think anything of it until he started getting a bunch of phone calls that he was ignoring.

Finally, while I sat there eating my omelet, he said he had to grab something out of his car and was gone for a good 10 minutes before I walked out the front door and saw him sitting against his car, telling someone he loved them. I guess he didn't hear me come out, because the conversation didn't cease. "Yes, baby, I wish I could spend it with you too. I know. You know how my family is though. Oh and my Grandma sends her love. Ok baby, I'll tell her." I stood, stunned and unsure what to do. My heart pounded and I got up the strength to move, I swung around, ran in the house, and slammed and locked the door. I stood there, shaking, furious, feeling like a complete idiot, while he yelled through the door that he could explain.

I told him to fuck off; that there wasn't anything to explain. After a minute or two of this, there was silence. "You're right. Can we talk about this?.... Come on. Let me in." I'm a pushover.

He walked in. He didn't make eye contact with me. He said he was sorry, and that he knew he was an asshole. I didn't have any response. He pushed past me, grabbed his car keys and wallet and another strawberry, and walked out.

So I spent the last 2 hours sitting here, drinking the 3 bottles of champagne I bought for mimosas (straight out of the bottle, and let me tell you, Cook's is not meant to be consumed without juice in it; and yes I am drunk and yes it took me a long time to write this in a readable way) and calling all my friends, telling them how the guy we all finally thought was good for me is more of an asshole than any of the other douches I've been hanging out with.

I would rather have sat suffocating in a creep-ass Easter Bunny costume hugging kids in the mall than spending the day feeling humiliated like this.



What a fantastic fucking Easter. Onto the next one. Cheers!

Geeks of the World..... Unite!

Ok, maybe that's a bit vague. Let's stick with Geeks in the LA area.

I will be attending the monthly Geek Dinner at Canter's Deli tomorrow, to mix and mingle with LA's finest computer nerds and internet aficionados. So if any of you other awesome bloggers out there plan on attending, let me know!

And on the note of being nerdily into the interent... exciting news for today! A Date In The Life... is now has its own, independent, even more awesome domain name! I'll admit it. I get pretty excited about this stuff.



And of course.... Happy St. Patty's Day. Please have fun and be SAFE!




And yes, I really am.

In my usual fashion, I will be celebrating this joyous holiday on a date (drinking a few too many free green beer and Irish Carbombs) with a guy named Coors, a marketing professional from OKCupid who turns out to live about 200 feet from me. What are the chances? Eh. We'll see. Not to say there aren't people I'd rather be spending it with.

A Symphony of Epiphanies

I needed this weekend to know that I really was ready to move on.

Amazing, after two years of endless heartbreak/recklessly wanting someone who "isn't sure" if I'm the right girl for him, I've realized that I don't think he's the right guy for me either, as much as I've tried to believe he was. It's time to let go.

It takes a lot of work sometimes to take your own advice. My mantra is always to live each day in the moment. Don't waste your time. Live each day in the moment! You never know how long you (or anyone else) has on this earth, so don't wait around for anything. This was always the reasoning I gave the Ex. "If you think you want to be with me again someday, why not now!? Life is too short to wait for another time!"

Rihanna says it best when she said that to me he's like a drug, and we both use each other, but in different ways. Some sad kind of gratification came from getting attention from him, no matter what the outcome. I spent the past two years believing that there was something I was lacking if he felt the need to look elsewhere. Maybe if I lose weight before I see him again? Maybe if I get a better job? Maybe if my relationship with my family was different? Maybe if I play harder to get, and then he'll be under the false pretense that I won't always be here waiting for him?

As much as he's known how it's affected me, he's always kept me at arms length, but close enough to be comfortable in the fact that if he can't find someone better, he can always go back to me. Any time it's seemed as though I'm moving on and getting over us, a quick yank on my leash has brought me right back. And no matter how much I've told myself, time and time again, that I was strong and resilient and independent, and wasn't going to let him affect me, he always has.

Recent discovery that I have the ability to have feelings for another person* made me wonder what it is that I've been waiting for. Why him? What is it about him that's made me want to wait the rest of my life for him? I love and care about him, but it finally clicked with me that I'm not his ideal mate. And the truth is, he's not my ideal mate either. This isn't my love story. We had some great times, and now they are some great memories. But those memories don't translate to a future the way I've always pushed for.

Clear as day, here it is: If after almost 4 years of being involved with each other (committed or otherwise), if he's not in love with me, he's not going to be.

Simple as that.


Not to say I didn't have a good weekend with him. We enjoy each other's company and are reallyrelaxed around each other, and we did a lot of fun things and ate a lot of great food. I'm glad he came because I had fun, and was able to gain some real-life perspective on the chapter in my life that is closing.

I knew going into it that there was a good chance my feelings would come flooding back, as they always do, as soon as I saw him, which they didn't. I also knew that if I spent all weekend thinking about someone different, it was a definite way to know that my heart isn't in it anymore.... which I did.

Excuse my French.... Fan-fucking-tastic! I have an overwhelming sense of relief and pride in myself.

I spent so much time waiting for the day that he would declare that he had "made a mistake" and mean it for real; so long hoping that one day he would realize I was really the person he was happiest with and that he didn't need to look anymore. And now I know that even if those feelings are genuine this time, it just comes down to too little, too late, and my heart isn't invested in it in the same way. He was super sweet this weekend, and I appreciate the nice dinners and fun things we did so much, but continuing on the way we have been isn't doing either one of us any favors, and nothing good is going to come out of it; now, or in the foreseeable future.

After driving him to the airport, I texted Erwin (aka the Mickey Mouse Man) to say I was on my way back and he asked me to have dinner with him. We had been texting each other during the weekend, and he's been telling me how much all of his friends want to meet me after what he told them, and how he couldn't wait to see me again.

As soon as I got back into town, he picked me up and we got some dinner (which ended up being a good two hour long meal because we had such a good conversation... and so nice to know that we like all the same things about each other, we have a LOT in common), rented a movie, and snuggled on my bed. Sigh.

*Before you get your panties in a twist: Erwin is not the REASON I was able to get over the Ex. Even if he and I never saw each other again, I would still be over the Ex. It's the fact that I am able to be totally into someone else that made me realize the Ex is not the only fish in the sea that I'll ever want to swim with.

Happy Steak and BJ Day!

Sorry for the lack of posts..... this week has been painfully busy. And this weekend is no different!

The Ex arrives tonight at the airport, and is spending the weekend with me. Normally I would be all giddy in anticipation of seeing him, but I realized recently that some spark that I've always had for him seems to finally have blown out. I'm using this weekend to really figure out, once and for all, if this is going to happen or if its just time for me to move the hell on with my life. I feel refreshed that I am ready to do that if it's the best thing to do.

I'm gonna have to make this short; I have a ton to get done today before I pick him up. But you know I'll update you as soon as I can!



And of course.....

Happy Steak and Blowjob Day!

If you know me well, you know that I don't eat meat.
But if you know me really well, you know there aren't many things I genuinely enjoy doing more than giving head, and there are not many things in this world I am better at. (Blunt, I know. Sorry. Sue me.) I have a strict policy on not hooking up with people I'm not in a committed relationship with (I might love giving BJ's, but that doesn't mean I do it to just anyone), and I guess I will just have to cross my fingers and hope that next year I have someone to celebrate with.


Ladies: Go do your men right.

A second date to write home about

I guess technically you could say that it was a third date (I met up with Erwin the other night when we were at the same bar with our friends, and we hung out a bit), but fabulous nonetheless.

Thinking I was off work at 10pm (instead of 6pm) he'd made plans to go to a party at a pizza place with his coworkers and was considering canceling so we could hang out instead, which I insisted he didn't do (bailing on plans with friends to hang out with your girlfriend is the first ingredient in a very potent brew of resentment later on). He came by my work to visit me, which caused about 25 minutes of glowing smiles in front of my coworkers, and asked me a little hesitantly if I wanted to go with him to his work party. I told him I didn't want to intrude and it was totally fine if he would rather meet up later, but he said he wanted me to come so I said I'd love to. We met at my house when I got off so I could change and took off for Pizza Port.

His colleagues are 95% male and range in age from 24-60(?). It's obviously a little intimidating to walk into a big room full of people I don't know (that secretly I was hoping would like me so they would give him the thumbs up on me), but he introduced me to everyone and they were all very friendly and positive. It wasn't long before I was involved in my own conversations with them and making everyone laugh. We ended up staying a few hours and having quite a few beers, and also a great time. When we left he told me how much he loves the fact that he knows he can take me anywhere and introduce me to people and doesn't have to worry if I'm going to be awkward or shy or having a good time; that he adores the fact that I have an intelligent sense of humor that makes everyone around me laugh. Gotta love genuine compliments.

We stopped at his apartment so he could change. I wasn't surprised to find that the 1 bedroom apartment of a single 24 year old male wasn't exactly spotless (which he warned me about extensively, and almost didn't want me to see it), but was so relieved to see that it was just clothes and papers on the floor, and not month-old pizza boxes and crushed beer cans. And underneath the bills and tee-shirts is actually a very nice apartment, also inhabited by two very cute black kitties. It always means a lot to me when a guy has pets, because it means he is able to commit himself for caring for something other than his own needs.

We met up with some of his friends I had met the night we ran into each other and had another great time with them. Time flew by and after closing the bar down, we went over to the 24-hour diner across the street and ate lots of greasy drunk-food and traded nicknames for awful sex acts (my personal worst picks of the evening: grumpy munchkins, chili rainbows, and tiajuana crimescenes). When we finished, we parted ways with his friends and he drove me home, but we sat in the car and talked for over an hour. It's strange and exciting to feel like I met a guy who is the male equivalent of myself, personality wise, and that he feels the same way. I'm thinking we're sort of crazy about each other.

Sweet! When does this every happen??

This is literally the first time I've felt like I have actually feelings for someone other than the Ex since we broke up...

Real magic in the Magic Kingdom

About two weeks ago, I was at Taco Tuesday at Fred's with C, and after being approached (/chatted up/harassed/stalked) by a bunch of definite no-go's (and I think it might have been "Marines drink for free" considering how many obnoxiously drunk douchebags with crewcuts there were), I locked eyes with a guy leaning over the back of C's chair to snag some napkins off of our table. After a few sarcastic comments between us, he retreated a few feet back and leaned against the wall, directly behind C's head. From then on, no matter who I talked to or was looking at, he was looking at me. And every time we made eye contact, he'd smile this seductive smile at me (think James Dean), or wink at me, and even stuck his tongue out at me to show off his tongue ring. Come to think of it... I may have started the facemaking. But that's just details.

Eventually Mr. Badass (let's call him Erwin) came and sat down next to me. "Before you say anything, Missy," he said, "let me just tell you now, I'm not gonna let you blow me off like all the other poor guys who keep trying to talk to you. Not until you give me a fighting chance." Ok, so he was real cute, though definitely not my "type," but a guy with charisma and a little spice is alright in my book.

We talked for awhile, and he made C and I laugh until we cried quite a few times, and we sassed each other up. (It's always so refreshing to find a guy who can take it and dish it back just as well.) I asked him why he had flashed his tongue ring at me. "Just tryin' to get some pussy." Classy. (To which I, of course, explained that he better move to another table 'cause it wasn't on the menu at mine.) Eventually, I finally agreed to tell him my name and what I did and where I lived. Each minute that we bullshitted, the boy grew more fond of me. The brattier I was, the more he couldn't seem to take his eyes off of me. (Is it really that easy?) At one point he told me he wanted to take me to Disneyland. "Oh yeah, totally, let's go." (I'm sure.) As much as I sassed him and toyed with him and lovingly dragged him through the coals (which he ate up, and did right back to me, so none of those "you're such a bitch" comments, please), there was definitely some sort of magnetic chemistry between us that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

He walked out with us, and I (perfectly willingly) gave him my phone number. He asked how soon he should call. "Tomorrow, if you want to see me again. But I prefer texts."

Sure enough, Erwin texted me the next day. We wrote back and forth every so often for two weeks, until we solidified a plan to go to Disneyland Friday (which was yesterday). I told my friends I had these plans, but was convinced they weren't actually going to happen.... who honestly takes a girl to Disneyland for a first date?

He picked me up around 10am and was cuter than I recalled, and turned out to be a great driver (very important to me, seeing as how I get so awkwardly nervous when other people hold my life in their hands). We drove over and laughed on the way, and he bought my two-day parkhopper pass (he has a premium annual passport already).

We went straight to the Blue Bayou restaurant, which is the one inside Pirates of the Carribbean. (Which has also impressed every single one of my friends, because apparently it's impossible to get a reservation... this boy did some planning.)

Lunch was dark and kind of romantic, but still in the "uncomfortable first date" sort of way. We had a nice conversation and headed out to start riding the rides. Things started to loosen up while we waited for Pirates, and as we walked out after we got off he held my hand. From then on, we felt a bit more comfortable, and I don't really recall standing in the lines (though we must have) because we were talking and laughing a lot. He's definitely one of those people with a natural charisma and magnetism about him, and one of those smiles that lights up a room, which I love. And he keeps me laughing, which automatically makes him pretty damn dateable.

Eventually we headed over to California Adventure Park, which I had never been to before. Strangely the best thing in the park was the museum about animation. I'm not sure what happened in there, but something between us just clicked. We were looking at all these original sketches from Snow White and talking about how my roommate had just moved out and taken her dog (aka the love of my life) and he made a joke about getting me one, but then said more seriously that he was becoming more crazy about me by the minute and I could probably talk him into just about anything anything. When we walked out he was being really quite, and told me he had had a moment of euphoria while we were inside that he couldn't really explain.

He talked me into going on the Tower of Terror, which is named quite appropriately. They always say that fear and humor are two emotions that bond people the quickest, which I wouldn't argue. Gotta love that adrenaline!

After a few more rides and lots of hand-holding and arms around each other, and times where we'd look at each other and it seemed as though we both wanted to kiss but it just wasn't the perfect moment yet, I talked him into the Ferris Wheel, which he said was his biggest fear. (After everything else we went on, I can't really understand that.) We waited 'til it got dark and my big plan was to kiss at the top when it stopped (movie-worthy, right?), but they put us in a cage with two ladies so that plan was blown. We chose a rocking cage (or at least I did, while he stood shaking in his boots) which turned out to be about as terrifying as he predicted it would be. Although he was scared shitless, he did make me and the two ladies in our gondola laugh hysterically which only reminded me why I was having such a fantastic day and was growing exponentially fond of this guy.

When we got off (and after he pretty much kissed the ground) he said he wanted to go back to guest services to see if we could convert my ticket into an annual passport. They told us the best thing to do is to do it on the second day we use it, so that we won't have trouble with blackout days. The woman showed us the brochure with all of the different options, and was describing to me about how much I would pay for each type of membership. He told her I wouldn't be the one paying for it, and agreed that we would do it next time we came back. As much as I am not one to plan anything for the future these days, I had no doubt in my mind that I would be coming back with him. Already, this was by far the best date I had ever been on.

At this point we realized we were painfully hungry and set off to Downtown Disney to get some dinner before the fireworks, which were only an hour away. But when we got there we found that every single other person at Disneyland was doing the same thing and all the restaurants had over an hour wait, so we put our name in and went to the bar at ESPNZone to have a drink. We realized that we were going to miss the fireworks show by waiting that long anyway, so we decided Disney was done for the day and headed off to the restaurant of my choice, which just so happened to be my beloved BJ's. Mmm....

We got some (delicious) pizza and cocktails in our tummies and at this point were just staring at each other in awe of the day we had just had. Though we joked with each other that it was a good sign that we had "tolerated" each other for the 13 hours we had spent together (again, I adore a guy who can take my sarcasm and give it back to me), it was beyond a doubt that we had both grown head over heels over the course of the day.

At one point, after a couple drinks, I asked him if there really wasn't anything he wanted to know about me (he really hadn't asked me much about my family or past, though I had asked him lots of things). He replied with, quite honestly, the best monologue I think I've ever heard.

"It isn't that I don't want to know about you. I want to know everything about you. But I know I'll learn these things over time. It isn't important to me to sit here and ask you questions about your past, because I can't be a part of your past. What I want to know is how I can make you laugh. What makes you tick. I want to know what you're excited about. What makes you cry, and what your buttons are, so I know what not to do. What I want to know about is your future, because that's what I can be a part of. I WANT to be a part of it."

The day that could have gone so wrong managed to go better than I could ever have imagined.

While he was driving me home (now 11pm) he jokingly said "where to next?" though he knew I had to be up early and had to be getting to bed. "Seriously though, I don't even want you to go home. I don't want this day to end."

I didn't either.

He pulled up to my house and got out of the car to hug me goodbye, gave me a fantastic goodnight kiss, and told me he had been waiting for it all day. He told me he already missed me and truly couldn't wait to see me again.

As much as I am so noncommittal since the heartbreak to end all heartbreaks, there is something about him that I just can't get enough of. This might actually be it.

WWBD?

As we grow up, we all (or most of us) come to learn some important rules about dating and the dynamics between us and the people we are interested in.

"Don't be too available."

"Wait three days before calling."

"Don't put out on the first date."

Obviously, there are some ageless pieces of wisdom that we all know, and some of us follow. But there are deeper intricacies that make simple ideals that much more effective. For example, not being too available. Sure, I can get a text message from a guy I met that asks if I can hang out that night, and I can write back and say I'm busy. But you know what's even better? Not writing back 'til that night, when I'm busy. See what I mean?

There are so many of these little games (albeit stupid... I'm the first to admit that all these little dating games are bullshit and the world would be a better place without the unneeded frustrations that go along with them) that make the chance of having the person you really like fall for you that much greater. (Again... stupid, but proven successful from many, many experiments.)

Now as much as I would like to believe myself to be some incredible dating guru who has a natural talent for making guys fall head over heels in love with her, this stuff does not come easily for me. I spent the first 75% of my dating career being "that girl."

You know the one. She likes a guy, and she makes it known; not only to him, but also his roommates, his friends, her friends, their mutual friends, his pets, and whoever else will listen.
The girl that texts him as soon as she wakes up to tell him the dreams she had about how they got married and what their kids looked like, and as she's falling asleep to let him know that he's the last thing she thinks about before she goes to sleep. Before I scare you away (as so many I have during those shameful years), I'll continue.

I have learned much of what I know through trial and error, but experience is the worst teacher: It gives you the test before ever presenting the lesson. And sometimes that just isn't good enough.

A year ago, I moved into my current house, with two fun girls around my age. I only realized recently that one of them is my source of endless amounts of boy advice, because when she moved out I found myself thinking, "What would Brandy do?" She is intelligent and beautiful, of course, but in the world of seducing the boys you really want, you have to have a bit better hand than that. She always has blackjack.

She's the girl who goes into a bar, and by the time she leaves she's been asked for her contact info by the top 5 hottest guys in the room, without having approached any of them herself. She is pretty much constantly dating a small handful of some of the most attractive, sweetest guys you could round up (including high fashion models, working actors, celebrity bodyguards, Ultimate Fighters, professional football players.... you get the picture). And most importantly (for me), she is the girl that I can always tell my dating dilemmas to, and who always knows exactly how to handle any given situation. She's very independent and resilient, and whenever I find myself floating back into the "it's been three days, why hasn't he called me yet?" mentality, I remember that it isn't the guys I should be worried about; it's me that they should be worried about. And with that motto, I move on to the next, and by the time I hear from the lame guy who took an extra week to call me after we went out, I've already met a few more guys and have all but forgotten about that one. (Which definitely works in my favor, because they always want to get back in the picture when they can see I have other things going on in my life. If you take nothing else from this entry, take that bit of wisdom.)

These little differences may seem trivial or benign, but they are the reason why sometimes gorgeous girls can't seem to find anyone better than some average looking, moronic douchebag who treats them like crap, and girls who aren't necessarily 10's (or even 7's or 8') or all that smart or interesting but always seem to get the most amazing guys. There aren't any leagues (let's cut out this "he's out of my league" shit, once and for all please). You could potentially have any girl or guy that you want. It's all in the way you approach things. (And, to put it very basically, all about letting them know you're interested and then making them think that you're far too busy or important to worry about it. Being comfortable in your own skin and being your first priority is the world's biggest aphrodisiac. Promise.)

And with that, I will just say simply...

Go get 'em, tigers!








Suggested reading: The Art of Seduction, by Robert Greene


P.S. On a side note, but totally related to this subject, do you remember The Sexy Czechy I noted in my Most Epic Week In History post? The young engineer/kitesurfer Val Kilmer look alike.... Well anyway, after that night (a month ago), I never heard from him, though he had insisted on getting my number. So (like I was saying) I forgot about it and moved on to the next. Well, two days ago he texted me, and apologized for the big gap and very confidently suggested lunch at a nice restaurant right on the beach for the next day. Long story short, we had lunch yesterday, and it was FAB. The weather was perfect, the convo was seamless, he was even more handsome than I remembered, and we kissed at the end, where he said we really HAD to do it again. Hopefully this won't be the last mention of The Sexy Czechy!

Stuttering, Sushi, and Seduction... thanks Maki Monday!

Ah, Maki Monday. How I love thee.

My roommates and I went for dinner and drinks. We settled on a bottle of white wine and some rolls and edamame. When our waiter came to take our order, we found that he was A. 19 at the oldest and B. so painfully awkward that we had a hard time making eye contact with him. We ordered the wine and he came back to tell us that they were out of it. But then went on to explain that he doesn't know what it is, because his mom doesn't allow him to drink and he has never had alcohol before. And then smiled uncomfortably as we held in laughter and decided on a different wine.

We had to assume that customers don't often order bottles, as the manager was brought out to proudly present our bottle to us, uncork it dramatically, and pour us all what we thought was the initial taste, but what turned out to be what he considered a glass of wine.

As the evening went on, things became more and more awkward and funny, as Kevin (our waiter, and yes we absolutely used his name at every available opportunity) brought us our sushi and rambled on nervously every time we spoke to him. By the time the bottle was empty I had decided to wink at him every time we made eye contact, which as you can imagine caused a few close calls between him and the wall near our booth.

As we sat and chatted, the booth behind us emptied and a group of 3 walked by our table; namely a very attractive strawberry blonde studmuffin (you know how I love those redheads.... woo wee) who I smiled at seductively as he passed (and I'm really starting to think I've got that look down) and who turned around to look at me about 8 times before he left the place .

Within three minutes, Kevin reappeared with a scrap of paper, and explained that although this was not "regular protocol," the "gentleman" (let's call him Brett) who had been seated behind our table had called the restaurant and asked him to give me (the girl in the green top) his phone number, and that he wanted to buy us another bottle of what we were drinking. Kevin, in his regular fashion, rambled on about how this was not normal, and (I'm assuming he wasn't supposed to tell us this part) how the guy had asked him to call him back if we accepted and to tell him about our reaction. I told him to let him know we appreciated it, and (obviously) accepted another bottle of (totally unnecessary) wine. I told them I was going to text him to thank him, and my roommates told me that was SO lame, which Kevin lamented. ("Even I know that's lame." Thanks, Kev.) But of course, I did it anyway. By this point the entire center was closed, as well as Maki Maki, though they graciously sat around and waited for us to finish our second bottle. I got a text back from Brett asking what we were doing and that he was still around and wanted to meet up. At 11:30pm in an empty outdoor mall? Creepy. No thanks. (I suggested Wednesday night. We'll see.)

We wrote back and forth a couple times, and he added me on Facebook. So the good news first: he's actually cuter than I had thought originally, and 23 as well. The bad news is that he's "very conservative," lives in San Diego, and is in the military.

Guess nobody's perfect.