Monday, April 28, 2008
Sunday, April 27, 2008
The Top 5 Best Ways to Ruin A First Date: Girl Edition
We've all been on a bad date or two. For some of us, hundreds. Now you can either sit there at dinner making awkward conversation and swirling your spaghetti around your fork while he stares at your rack, or you can take a stand and make sure this guy won't ever want to take you out again. And all without the guilt of hurting someone's feelings!
Plus.... it sure does spice things up a bit.
5. Leave the ringer on your phone up to full volume, and make sure not to miss any phone calls. After a few minutes of chatting, explain that you're running errands with your mom. When you hang up, don't explain to your date who it was that you were talking to. Bonus points: send as many text messages as possible, giggling every time you get a response.
4.Get sloppy drunk. (No, slurring isn't good enough. You better be falling off that bar stool.) Bonus points: throw up in his car.
3. Take a time-out to return a phone call from your mom (or, bonus points: your grandma). When she asks what you're doing, giddily divulge the fact that you're out on a date with "that boy I told you about.... you know the one.... yeah yeah, THAT one. I know! I am too!" Tell her every detail of what the two of you have done so far (including how much things cost and who paid for them), how amazing he is, and how you can't wait for her to meet him. Super extra bonus points: Insist that she doesn't have to worry if you'll sleep together on the first date because Aunt Flo is in town tonight.
2. When out for drinks, insist that he doesn't need to buy you one; you've got it covered. While he sits alone at your table, get up and start approaching groups of drunk guys flirtily 'til they buy you drinks. Bring him back his appletini with a smile and a wink. Bonus points: cheer on the wrong side when the guys that bought you the drinks try to pick a fight with the guy thats drinking them.
And the number one best way to never have to see a dating dud again, without the guilt of hurting his feelings, is....
1. When shopping, casually suggest that the two of you pop into a jewelry store. Become fascinated by an engagement ring (preferrably the most excessive one you can find) and stare at it long enough for a sales person to take it out of the case for you. Proceed to try it on, "just to see." Make sure he sees it, because this is the "exact style I want."
How to lose a guy in 10 days? How bout losing him in 10 minutes?
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
What a guy wants, what a guy needs...
A friend of mine is caught in a strange situation with her guy, and has been asking me advice.
Now usually I'm the go-to for guy-related questions, but for once I'm kind of at a loss.
So here's the sitch. (And maybe I should have "Asked Mason," but I digress.) She met this guy, and they totally hit it off. They had major chemistry, "got" each other, wanted to spend every waking second together, texted each other during the time they couldn't hang out (ie during work and sleeping time), etc. Everything was just dandy, up until about a week and a half ago.
All of a sudden, this dream dude seemed to disconnect himself. Where he used to call/write/email/text/smoke-signal her regularly, he now hardly seems to have the time to hang out with her or even think about her. At one point when they were first getting to know each other, he had told her that occasionally he goes through phases where he holes himself up in his room and hides from the world with video games and movies, and although it seems like he just wants to be alone, he's really looking for attention. As any girl knows, the worst thing you can do when a guy starts to pull back is come on stronger, but according to him, thats really what he's wishing for when he acts that way. So fast forward back to the present, where she's sitting on my couch moping around because her super sweet dream guy seems to be completely forgetting abotu her. Her feelings and desire to see him haven't changed, but he seems to feel completely differently.
Now her guy doesn't seem to be a bad person, don't get me wrong. I'm definitely rooting for the guy. He's funny, smart, outgoing, and seems really nice to her. And it isn't as though he's being an ass. He's still nice when they do talk or hang out, but as she described it, "it seems like the fire has died down to an ember." And after only a month and a half, we both agree the fire shouldn't have changed any yet.
They sat down and talked about it (I know, every guy's favorite activity) and he finally admitted that things seemed different to him too, and that it had come about the day he made her his girlfriend. Having that label apparently spooked him to a point of wanting to push the relationship far enough away to feel like a single guy again, despite the fact that he has self-proclaimed "super strong feelings" for her. According to her, they hardly ever see each other now, and she's lucky to hear from him once a day through text message or email.
I'm trying to be there for her, but I don't know what to tell her. She's a pretty tough cookie, and she's starting to feel like "if he isn't ready for me, then I'm moving on." We both agreed that their relationship was something really special, but she insists it just doesn't feel that way anymore.
What do you guys think? Is it doomed? Should she wait it out more? Is he looking for attention? Or will it be better in the long run for her to pull back too?
Sunday, April 13, 2008
A Little Self-Reflection..... never a bad idea.
No pun intended.
Like you guys said, I need to think about what it is that I want; at least that way I can try to focus my energy/send it out into the universe, and hope it comes a-knockin' on my door. Yeah?
Ok, to start with the surface. Physically, I don't have one specific type, other than exceptionally good-looking. Ha. What does that mean? At least a few of the following, in my opinion.
- dark hair
- slim hips
- straight white teeth
- prominent noses (previously broken? i'm into the bump)
- strong jaw lines
- freckles
- long eyelashes
- nice, strong hands
- slim/skinny/toned
- stylish: edgy, indie, hipster, casual, Abercrombie or surfer-type style, laid-back
And more importantly, character.
- a servant's heart
- a lust for knowledge and wisdom
- an intelligent, quick sense of humor
- the ability to see the good in people and in all situations, a positive attitude
- a deep understanding of themselves, an open mind to understand me
- the heart of a child
- charisma, a strong presence
- someone who validates me, for who I am on all levels
- dedication to personal growth: spiritually, mentally, and emotionally
- ambition, a passion for what they do
- the desire to be unabashedly smitten, selectively
- honesty, someone who keeps their word and follows through
- most importantly, the ability to love without conditions
And y'all thought I was shallow. I really do have a big heart, underneath it all. Promise. Just have to find my matching puzzle piece.
And the quest continues...
Monday, April 7, 2008
Waitlisted
Maybe something I should consider starting.
Let me explain. When I was seeing Erwin, I had changed my status on my Facebook profile to say I was "In A Relationship." Due to the Live Feed Facebook started some months back, pretty much everyone I know was alerted to this fact. This includes many a boy I have gone on dates with recently. I have too much pride to change it just yet.
I don't write about each and every date, by virtue of a majority of them not being blog-worthy at all. For example, Steven, who I went out for drinks with the night before I went to Disneyland for my first date with Erwin. He's a 25 year old law school student who I met on OKCupid, who's good looking and super sweet, but missing some key ingredients. He showed up dressed like it was laundry day (alright when we've been dating for awhile, but on a first date I would have assumed he would want to make the best first impression), spent a majority of the date talking about his ex and how broke he was, and as we ordered our first beers, he announced that he would pay for the first ones, but that I would be paying for the second ones. Now I'm not saying boys need to shell out more money than they have, but if he doesn't have the money to pay for two rounds of beers.... let's just order one. (Boys, please. Don't ever TELL a girl on a first date - that YOU invited her on - that she's going to have to pay for the next round. Bad manners.)
Anyway, in my opinion, it was a nice time but nothing to write home about. In his opinion, though, we had a ton in common, amazing chemistry, and he really wanted to see me again. After a few weeks of text messages from him, I didn't hear from him anymore, until tonight.
He's not a bad guy. In fact, he's a nice guy, with what seems like a good heart and a decent amount of intelligence. What he doesn't have is the social know-how to woo a girl during a first impression, which is key to getting 'em hooked. I spent the whole evening with him wishing there was someway to broach the subject, and help him out. With a few good pieces of wisdom and a little polishing, Steven could easily be a total catch for a great girl.
As much dating as I've done, and as many bad dates and poor first impressions I've had (if you don't believe me, go ahead and compare the amount of "first date" tags to "second date" tags.... I dare you), I think I'm kind of an expert on the subject of Do's and Absolutely-Do-Not's on a first date.
What better career for me than date-coaching for the desperate and down-trodden?
I'm seriously considering it. The details would need to be ironed out and all... but I welcome comments on the subject. Let's hear 'em!
Would you consider hiring a dating coach?
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Not Dating the Danish (ie Douchebags)
Sidenote: I went out last night to my favorite local dive, The Goathill. It was packed and 90% guys as usual. Despite my lowkey outfit (black t-shirt, jeans, flats, and a ponytail... not my usual outing attire) I was getting a ton of attention. I said hi to the friend I was meeting up with, and went to the bar to stand in the long line (all men) for a drink. As they turned around and noticed me, they kept letting me go ahead of them, 'til finally I was behind a group of three guys. The loudest of them (with some sort of accent) stopped what he was saying midsentence when he saw me and grabbed my arm and pulled me up to the bar. With slurred speech, he asked the bartender (about 5 times) for "a vanilla vodka and cranberry." (I won't say no to a free drink, though what I really wanted was a Hefewiesen.) He said cheers in Danish and handed me what he called a "Pantydropper." I thanked him, apologized that it wouldn't work on me, and went back to my friend.
I learned years ago not to date the Danish. Now I'm sure they are not all bad, but after a few examples of Douchebagginess I think I've accepted they are just not for me. Here's a prime example.
I met Von in the library my sophomore year of college. He told me how he thought I was beautiful and wanted to take me out, and at this point in my dating career a little compliment could go a very long way; I agreed, and we made plans for that weekend. Though I wasn't particularly attracted to him, I hoped he had potential.
We met up for shopping (his idea) which was really just walking around downtown and him pointing out all the stores he recently spent large amounts of money in. He didn't ask me a single question, and interrupted me every time I tried to speak, mostly with examples of how much money his family had. By the time he took me home, I was almost jumping out the car window.
In the days that followed, he would text and email me, telling me how great of a time he had and how he couldn't get his mind off me. I finally said very bluntly that I thought he was really full of himself and didn't want to see him again. He apologized profusely and promised that if I gave him another chance, things would be different. I conceded.
Three days later, he picked me up for a romantic dinner in Montecito. He dressed nicely, opened every door, asked me all kinds of questions, and was more of a gentleman than I had ever gone out with at that point. This time around, by the time we got back to my house I was aching for a goodnight kiss.
My best friend M, who had been my very first friend in college and literally the closest thing to a sister I have ever had, didn't like him from what I had told her the first time. She was protective and what I always described as not only my best friend, but also my sister, lawyer, and bodyguard. I finally talked her into accepting that we were dating after telling her how amazing he was the second time. They met one evening after lots of convincing, and she agreed that he wasn't quite as bad as she had expected. Even still, she didn't understand the attraction, telling me that he wasn't even cute. (Thanks, girl.)
Naturally, we started dating. He lived two blocks from our campus in a nice house on the ocean. We spent days at the beach, went out to great meals, took day trips, and he even took me back to Solvang to meet his family (yes, they actually live in Danishville... I know). He bragged to all of his friends about his new girlfriend, told me how thrilled he was to be with me, that he was going to plan something amazing for Valentine's Day (over two months away), and even gave me his passwords to his email account for some reason (which I never thought to check).
Somewhere around two months into the relationship things started to turn. When we would go out to eat, he would surprise me with having "forgotten" his wallet (despite the fact that he knew I was barely getting by) and started making rude jokes about me around his friends. One night at dinner (another one I was duped into paying for with the $25 I had left in my bank account), he made some stupid comment about how if I wasn't happy with him, maybe he'd just go date my best friend M. Flustered and angry, I snapped back, "she isn't even attracted to you." He laughed. "Are you sure we're talking about the same M?"
A few days later was Valentine's Day, the night before which I was at her house, close to tears and telling her how the relationship was going downhill at a fast pace. "If he doesn't perform a miracle tomorrow, I'm going to end it," I proclaimed. We'd had plans to get a room at a bed and breakfast in Solvang, but after the plans changed, he would now already be there hanging out with his friends, and I would drive up to meet him (almost 2 hours away) for the night, where we'd be staying at his parents' house since they were out of town. How romantic.
Even still, the next morning I packed up my overnight bag, put together the feeble Valentine's gift and card I was able to get him, and kept trying to call him to get directions. Finally he called me back, and when I picked up the phone, he said this:
"Look, I've been thinking, and this just isn't working. Let's not fool ourselves here, we both know this relationship isn't going anywhere. Why waste this holiday with someone I don't even want to be with? It just doesn't make sense."
I was so much in shock that I walked out into the living room where my roommates were watching TV, and put one of them on the phone to verify that I wasn't hallucinating. She cussed him out and hung up on him. As much as I was furious, I wasn't sad. I didn't cry. I called M and went over to her house to vent. She seemed even more upset than I was. We logged into his email (the first time I had ever used that password) to see that he had written an email to a friend of his two weeks prior, saying he was over me and was going to dump me. He had actually been planning to do it like this. She had all kinds of ideas for retaliation. "Let's go key his car! We should put sugar in his gas tank. Or egg his house. What a fucking asshole." (Like I said, best friend and bodyguard.) I turned down her ideas, wanting to stay on the high road. But just for laughs, we changed his name in my phone's contact list to "Danish Douchebag."
For the next few days, she would constantly ask me how I was doing, if there was anything she could do to help, or get back at him, or if I needed anything. By the following weekend I was over it and out partying with my friends, when I ran into her cousin. I called her to tell her, no answer. Unusual, but ok. We talked for a long time and I (drunkenly) tried to call her again, no answer. We went to another party down the street, I called her on the way, no answer. Since she and I talked on the phone about 50 times a day, this was strange. About 45 minutes later, I got a text message from her. "Sorry, I'm going to sleep, I'll talk to you tomorrow." Wtf, right? So of course, I call her again. NO ANSWER. Now I'm getting frustrated. She texts again, "my phone is about to die, I'll talk to you tomorrow." So I write back, "M, what is your deal? I have to talk to you!"
Two minutes later, I got a text message. Not from her number, but from "Danish Douchebag," that said "I didn't want to tell you like this, my phone died. I'm sorry. We're going to sleep. We'll talk about it tomorrow." I may not have cried on Valentine's Day, but I cried this time. In fact, I bawled. I cried so hard I couldn't see, and had to be escorted out of the party and back to my house, and I cried the whole way home. I wrote her an email when I got home about how heartbroken I was over the loss of my best friend. She wrote back the next day with some stupid response about how it wasn't her fault that they were "meant to be." We wrote back and forth a few more times, each one I sent a little more crushed, and each one I received a little more ridiculous.
On a whim, I logged into his email account again. I knew that password would come in handy someday. And there were all the emails we had exchanged, forwarded to him and sitting in his inbox.
It took me 5 days to get over him after he dumped me, less than 5 for her to pounce on the asshole (possibly even less than that, quite possible they started hooking up before he broke up with me), one month before he dumped her too (big surprise), and three years before I could bring myself to talk to her again. And even still, we won't ever be friends like we were then.
Moral of the story, I've written off Danish Douchebags for good. Save your Pantydroppers for another girl!
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