Happy 6 Month Anniversary!

Well, today marks the 6th month since I started this blog, and I'm the type of girl who celebrates these things, so I wanted to give y'all a great big shout out for reading!

To mark this joyous day, I'll tell you the story of Hughes, a very attractive boy who turned out to be more strange than anything else.

It was last year, early March. I lived up north a few hours, but knew I would be moving to Southern California. Since I don't waste any time, I started perusing Craigslist in this area, to meet some new "friends." (You know, the ol' "new to the area, need some fun people to show me around" line.)

It was late at night, and after confirming my posting, I immediately got an email from Hughes; a year younger than me, who works as a professional photographer, who was really funny and sent a really hot picture. That'll work.

So we started exchanging emails, each one longer and more flirtatious. The more we discussed, the more we had in common it seemed: music taste, places we've traveled, prior relationship experiences, favorite movies, etc. I felt giddier every time I read another email. I lost track of time, and realized at 5:30am that it was probably time to go to bed. We exchanged phone numbers and I went to sleep with a huge smile on my face. I woke up for work not exhausted, but excited.

Throughout that first day, we texted each other constantly. The conversations were originally like, "I can't wait 'til you live down here" or "I'm so excited to move," but became, "there's no way I can wait that long, I'm going to come see you," and my asking, "how soon?"

This lasted two weeks. We talked on the phone every night, exchanged picture after picture, and generally fell for each other virtually. He had told me early on that he'd just broken up with a serious girlfriend (ie three weeks before the first night we talked, and by serious I mean they had been living together for a year) which is an obvious red flag, but he insisted that he'd been over it for months before they broke up, and had definitely moved on. I believed it.

We decided on St. Patrick's Day for his visit, and couldn't have been more excited. As we discussed his upcoming visit, our conversations had this underlying sense of, "that's when we're going to start dating." One night, he even told me to count 6 months from that day, September 17th, and write "6 months since I met Hughes" with a heart on my calendar. And I did. We had high hopes.

On the 16th I did my usual nervous/excited girl activities: got my hair and nails done, went tanning, gave myself a facial, cleaned my room top to bottom, and picked out a few potential outfit combinations. I could hardly sleep. I woke up hours before he'd be there, and spent tediously long getting ready. I wanted everything to be perfect! I'd made the mistake of telling all my friends and co-workers about it too; despite that whole "don't jinx it" philosophy. Ay.

So he pulled into my complex's parking lot in his souped-up yellow convertible (yeah, yeah, I know... another red flag. So sue me). As soon as I heard the rumble of his super-charged engine, my heart jumped out of my chest and I ran to the door. And there he was, 6'5", well-dressed, and almost as cute as I'd previously imagined. I ran downstairs and gave him a big hug, though he seemed kind of shy. Oh well, we are meeting for the first time, and he did just finish a 2-hour car ride in a tiny convertible, which is really just not fitting for his height, I thought.

He came up with me so I could get my purse, and we decided to walk around downtown. Already, all the bars were stuffed with drunk people doused in green beer. He still seemed really quiet. We decided it would be the most effective to go back to my house for a few drinks and then go out to the bars, so we wouldn't be ripped off quite as bad for drinks. On the way back we stopped at my work, and he met my co-workers, who seemed to really enjoy embarrassing me by telling him everything I'd told them about him.

When we reached my apartment, he was still really uncomfortable and quiet, now two hours deep into the visit. He seemed to be a bit better than he had been when he arrived, so I crossed my fingers that a few drinks would loosen him up a little. We went into the kitchen to make some drinks, and I pulled out the different kinds of liquor and juice I had so he could pick what he wanted. He chose, and then said, "oh I just remembered, I brought some pictures of my dog to show you, I left them in my car. I'll be right back."

So I stood there in the kitchen, mixing our drinks. A couple minutes later, I heard a really rumbly engine start, but I assured myself I was just being paranoid and refused to go out to look. But my heart was pounding. I knew I wasn't being crazy when out of my kitchen window, I saw his yellow convertible peel out of the driveway and take off for the freeway. I was in complete shock. For a second I reasoned with myself - maybe he needed to pee and was so uncomfortable around me that he wanted to sneak off somewhere. Or maybe he wanted to be sweet and go get me flowers. After a few seconds I came to my senses and realized that the douchebag had just peeled out of my day.

So I did what any normal person would do; I called him. He didn't pick up. I texted him, "what the hell?" He didn't respond. I called again. He'd turned his phone off. I quickly downed the two drinks I had mixed us and started crying. Not because he was the man of my dreams once I had met him (I mean honestly, I wasn't even sure how we were going to get through the day together), but because I had done something so awful that a guy would drive two hours to see me, and immediately turn around and drive back. And LIE about it! Honestly.

So I layed on my freshly-made bed, in my spotless room, wearing my cute green outfit and perfect makeup and manicured nails, and drank and cried 'til I fell asleep. I woke up hours later to some text messages from friends about going out, and out of them I chose Brent, who came and picked me up and we went out and got even more drunk and cabbed it back to his house after too many Irish Carbombs and some drunken, naked making out and rolling around in bed that invariably led to my playing a little flesh flute as it always did.

Anyway, back to the douche in the yellow convertible. I decided with sound resolve not to try to contact him again, but come March 18th, I awoke to a long-winded text message from him, and something to the effect of, "I am so sorry. I don't know why I did that to you. I realized I'm not over my ex, and I like you SO much and it just didn't feel right to be moving on that fast." (LAME.) So I wrote back something about lying and being an asshole about it, and he apologized again, and kept apologizing through text message for the next few days while I ignored them.

And ever since, every couple of months I'll get a random email or text message from him, that says, "I wish I had never left."



This world is full of fuckin' weirdos.

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.

It's me! The girl who isn't like every other girl!

Firstly, you absolutely must read this: It's Me! Every girl ever.

Hi there! I saw you looking at me from the other side of the bar. I love your shirt. What made me come over here? You're the hottest guy I've seen all night, and I'm not the type to sit around batting my eyelashes and wait for you to approach me. Awww, I'm glad you're flattered. Your blushing makes you even sexier, did you know that?

It's so refreshing that you know how to maintain eye contact. And even though I'm wearing this tight lowcut v-neck tee! What a sweetheart you are. Where are my friends? They're over in that booth. Yeah, we work together. Who are your friends? Don't worry, I'm only being friendly to make a good impression. If I wanted to flirt with them I wouldn't have come over to talk to you. I'm going to make them laugh a bit. They approve! I can see it by the way you guys look at each other.

It's sweet of you to buy me a drink, I didn't expect you to. Are you up for a tequila shot? If you aren't I'm going to call you a pussy, but all in good fun. It's so hot that you laugh at my sarcastic sense of humor, it shows a lot about a guy who isn't scared away by it. I can tell you think I'm cute by the way you're staring at me. No, not all hot girls have lame stuck-up personalities, but I'm still flattered that you think I'm awesome and smart too. You can't really be that shocked. Really? Oh, well ok. Thank you.

Now that we've exchanged names, I think it's fair to say we're not strangers anymore. I get a lot of satisfaction out of the way your face lights up when I touch your arm. A few more minutes of this and you're going to be totally hooked. Oops! I think you already are. I know, I hear that a lot that I'm not like all the other girls. Well, thank you for the compliment.

Yes, here are my friends. Don't be intimidated. Just like we established, girls can be hot AND awesome, which of course my friends are too. Well, I don't want to ditch them so I'm going to go get another drink on the other side of the bar, and pretend you aren't watching me even though I can see it out of the corner of my eye, and I know you can't help it anyway. You want my number? I'll think about it. Maybe later. Go have fun with your friends!

Ooh, here comes another really cute guy. I hope you don't notice him talking to me. Oh, too late. I see you looking at us from across the room. But what can you do.

Oh hey, it's you again. I'm impressed you lasted 15 minutes over on that other side. Boys are so predictable! Sure, you can have my number if you really want it. Yes, I'll try to answer if you call. Better yet, text me. What do you mean how many days should you wait before you contact me? Oh come on... do I really seem like other girls? Let me put it this way; if you want to hang out, text me tomorrow. Do you like sushi?

No I'm sorry, I'm working late the next few days and then I'll be in LA for the weekend. Oh he, sorry about that, I had to get back to work. What are you doing? Yeah, next Tuesday will work. I know it's driving you nuts that I don't respond to your text messages right away, but that's the whole point. I know deep down you like it.

Aww thanks! You look great too. You're totally still as hot as I remember and I'm not even drinking this time! I'm so glad I chose these jeans, they make my butt look hot. And I know you just noticed it when you were walking behind me, I caught you. How cute that you put on a little too much cologne. It's flattering that you're worried about impressing me. This is our house, yeah that is my roommate. It is nice, huh? I found them on craigslist, can you believe it? What do you feel like? There's an all you can eat sushi place a few miles away. Sounds good to me too!

I like everything, I'm not picky, you can just order for us. Want to share a sake and a Kirin? Do you like unfiltered? So what do you do? I like that you feel important when I listen to what you're saying with interest. I'm glad you like answering questions. It's really charming that you're a little nervous. Oh finally, the drinks are here. Looks like you're starting to loosen up! I can tell that when you ask me something and I answer, you're more interested in watching my lips move. I think you're cute too. Yes, of course I'm glad we got together. Yeah I'm having a really good time! I know you are, I can tell. Thank you so much for dinner.

I'm impressed that you got up the guts to take my hand. Aren't you glad it's cold out so you have a reason to put your arms around me? I wonder how long I can look up at you with this look in my eyes before you get bold and kiss me. Finally.... you're not bad. Little less tongue next time though maybe.

You're right, we do have so much in common. You're pretty cool yourself. I'm glad I met you too. When can you see me again? Hmm... I'm not sure, I'll have to look at my schedule. We'll plan something though. Yes I promise! I'm pretty tired, I have to work early tomorrow. Aww don't look so sad. You'll see me again.

Oh hi, I'm sorry I haven't gotten back to you the last few days, I've been so busy with work. Yeah, I have plans with my friends for tonight. Yeah I have to work tomorrow too. How about Thursday?

A Love Affair with CL Missed Connections

If you don't know what missed connections are, check this out.

Basically, picture you're out at dinner with your friends, let's say. You look at a table across the room and see a member of the sex you're attracted to who is totally good looking, stylish, and seems to notice you, too. You want to talk to them, but you're both tied up with friends, and they end up leaving before you have a chance to work up the balls to approach them.

So... you go on Craigslist, and you post a missed connection about where you were, what you look like, what they look like, what time it was, and that you hope they see your ad because you're hopelessly in love with them, or want to jump their bones, or whatever the case is.
That way, you save yourself the humiliation of being rejected in person, and if they happen to see it and want to talk to you, they have the opportunity.

So.... truth be told, I had kind of a fascination with the Craigslist Missed Connections about a year ago. And every time I would see a guy I fancied (which is extremely often) but didn't have the balls to talk to him (which is not too often) or wasn't in a situation where I had the ability to talk to him, I would go on Missed Connections and post an ad. You'd be surprised how many times it worked.

The first time, I was in the drive-thru line for In-n-Out Burger, waiting for a milkshake. When I pulled up to the big window they have so you can watch them cook while you're waiting, I was practically face-to-face with an incredibly handsome Joaquin Pheonix lookalike: perfect, muscular build, black hair, green eyes, and without the awkward lip scar. He was just feet from my car, but we were separated by the glass; it was the only time I have ever enjoyed a long wait in the drive-thru, because nothing could have been more appealing to me at that moment than watching his biceps flex while he pushed potatoes through the fry-slicer machine.

I posted a Missed Connection about him, and two days later got a reply from a female friend of his, telling me that not only was he super hot, but was also an incredibly sweet guy. She showed him the post, and he emailed me right away. We ended up going out one night with some of his friends, all of which were super fun. He was super shy in the beginning but the more he drank, the more he seemed to loosen up. By the end of the night we were giddy and holding hands and flirting, and were both completely bombed, so he ended up staying over. We made out passionately for what seemed like hours, and finally fell asleep. When we woke up, I realized he was naked (which I can assure you did not take place while we were making out) and I was fully clothed. The awkwardness and embarrassment of the fact that he had drunkenly gotten naked in a stranger's bed without intention to proved to be too much for poor Joaquin, who sheepishly got dressed, I drove him home, he gave me a very shy kiss, and we never talked again.

The absolute most amazing MC story was on the 405-South. I was driving south to stay with a friend of mine, when I started to come up on a beautiful, brand new 6-series BMW... didn't even have a license plate yet. The license plate frame was from a law school. I had to see who was driving this thing. Picturing some old, stuffy lawyer, I was shocked to see a very young and VERY good-looking hottie driving it. He looked at me too, smiled, and raced forward. I raced forward too, smiled at him, and sped off. This went on for about 10 miles (and is affectionately known as "flirt-driving") until he exited onto another freeway, waving as he drove off. When I got to my friend's house, I posted a Missed Connection on a whim, in the area of LA that we had been traveling through. I described his car and my car, the situation, where we were, and where he got off. I didn't say the color of our cars though, and said that if he saw it, he should email me and tell me what colors they were.
Early the next morning, I had an email. From him.

You are not going to believe this, but I am the guy from you post. I remember you, as I was checking you out too. My license plate is Santa Clara Law school (I was actually getting home from the office). My BMW is a graphite color (dark grey). You had a lighter colored car if I recall correctly...kind of an orange or rusty type color.

This is crazy, I alway cruise the missed connections sections, but never thought I would be the subject of it. So tell me about you.

Sean

My friend ran in when she heard me screaming about it. I couldn't believe he'd found it! I wrote back.

Wow! I am in shock right now! I never thought that would work but I figured I might as well give it a shot. That is amazing.

Anyway.... you obviously are who I was talking about, you got all the details right. :) My car is a reddish color.... I think they call it salsa red haha. So you work at the law school? Or you're a lawyer? I was planning on going to law school but decided to do hair and makeup instead, big difference, I know.

I was on my way down to Orange County last night from Santa Barbara. I do hair and makeup in a salon right now but when I move I'll be working at the school I went to.

What else? I'm 22, as you probably saw on the ad. I'm from Northern California, in the wine country. Umm... I'm not sure what else to tell you off the top of my head.

What's your story? How old are you?

I seriously can't believe you found my ad, but I'm pretty excited that you did. :)

And then he made himself even better.

No kidding! How random!

Here is my story. I am a lawyer...in Westwood/Brentwood. I am from the Bay Area too....Richmond and Moraga. I really miss it there. I am 28. Since you could only see my head, I am 6'1, 185...very athletic. I live in Marina del Rey ...with my dog Bailey (Beagle). What else would you like to know?

I have never been to Santa Barbara.

Do you have any pics? I tried not to make it obvious that I was checking you out :)

Very nice to meet you :)

Sean

Our email exchange went on for a few weeks. We texted daily, flirted, and couldn't wait to see each other. Unfortunately, by week three his emails started requesting "bikini" pictures, and other toolshed things, which I quickly discouraged and we lost touch.
A few months ago, I was driving through LA and passed the World Savings Bank building on the right side of the 405-south; the building that he works in. I texted him, and we exchanged a few as I drove home. I asked him if he wanted to get together. He said he had a girlfriend now. Oh well.


Anyway... those are a few examples, but definitely not all of them. I still have the urge to post a missed connection every time I see a cute guy that I don't have a chance to charm the pants off of in person. And of course.... always nice to peruse them; you never know when someone is going to write about you!

Mol-e Mol-e Mol-e!

Remember that scene in Austin Powers.... Mole mole mole mole.....

Now picture that character, except change a few details. The mole is actually on his inner eyelid, obstructing his ability to fully open one of his eyes. And his eyebrows are about 8 times thicker.

Well... take that image in your head and imagine me with him, on the date I went on last night.

Yeah. I know. Let's call him Sean.

So it all started when he responded to a Craigslist ad I posted looking for new friends in my area. He sent me a link to his Facebook profile where I found that in college, he lived with this guy Nick who I had a ridiculous crush on in high school, which was a totally random coincidence. All of his pictures were from a pretty good distance and he looked like he was pretty cute.

We played phone tag for awhile and he totally made me laugh, which is a huge plus in my book. We finally found a night we were both free and decided to have dinner. He called me on the way home from the office (he's an attorney... hot!) and said we could go anywhere I wanted... I suggested BJ's Pizza (my faaaavorite pizza ever), which he sounded excited about.

We met there (thank GOD.... great for easy get-aways when necessary) and when I walked into the waiting area I found him there: thick ass brows, obscene mole, college sweatshirt, cargo shorts, flip flops, hasn't shaved in days - the whole enchilada. Don't get me wrong... I'm all for being casual, but on a first date? At night? Out to dinner? With a female? Were you raised by wolves?

We sat there, waiting for a table... with me wondering if I should feign illness, and then him talking about how much he dislikes BJ's (the restaurant, not the felatio, duh!) and how he'd had lunch there today and had no idea what he was going to order because he doesn't like anything on the menu... and then me wondering if I should say I forgot to lock my car and run out the door, and then some more complaints from him. And I just so happen to be very turned off by negativity. And large facial moles.

To make a long and painful story short, he spent the whole time asking me lame questions and then hardly pretending to listen to the answer while he watched some sports game on the screen behind my head, complaining about how boring his job is, talking about how much he hates to be touched (hugs included) and mostly insisting that I was bored. On the other hand, I spent the whole time eating my favorite pizza (spinach & artichoke... try it), chugging pomegranate margaritas, and checking out the hot waiters... which he didn't even notice, not once. Other than him being there, I actually had a pretty nice evening.

Finally after the 8th time of him saying, "you're bored. You're so bored. Are you bored? You seem bored," I snapped back, "if I am bored, saying that is not going to help you any. Trust me." That shut him up about it. He went back to complaining.

Eventually the bill came, but he made no move to pay it. There was no way I was going to consider even paying my share, since this is the worst date I've been on in a long ass time. The bill sat there for literally 20 minutes while I secretly stared daggers at him and his stupid planet-sized eyelid mole and his negative attitude and waited for him to pay it. The waitress came by to pick up the check and he had to tell her it wasn't taken care of yet, and he STILL didn't do anything with it. Did he expect me to pay??

"Thank you SO much for dinner!" I gushed.

He slipped his card into the slot and I smiled because I was satisfied and tipsy. I counted down the minutes 'til the check returned for him to sign and he finished his stupid beer and I could take off.

We walked out to the parking lot, and I was feeling so thankful that I wouldn't even have to hug him considering how he absolutely can't stand being touched. We got to the driveway between the spots we parked in and I said, "don't worry, I won't hug you," and he said, "oh shut up, come here," and gave me this shockingly big, long, and firm hug that I was not expecting nor excited about. I pulled away, said another quick thanks-for-dinner and rushed to my car, jumped in, and sped off.

Minutes later, I get a text message. It's him.

"No goodnight kiss?"

YOU'VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME.

Loose Lips

There always seemed to be something about the wait station at my old restaurant that brings out the raunchier side of my female co-workers.

Let me explain.

I'm all for talking about boys, dating, boyfriends, friends, family, boys again... and what have you. But I'll be damned if I'd ever tell a perfect stranger the intimate details of my sex life (wait, I'm a hypocrit.... let's just say other than in this blog). Apparently not everyone can say the same.

Now I'm not complaining as much as just sitting here (as I was sitting there at the time) in total shock. I have to say that as much as its sort of off-putting, its also totally entertaining to hear way TMI about someone you don't even know.

For example:
It's my third day. I'm sitting at the counter, refilling salt shakers and the cup of straws. This other waitress walks up who works with me but we've never spoken. I knew the color of her hair and her age range (I want to say like.... 39-45?), but had no idea what her name was. By the time I walked away it's likely I knew more about her than I know about a lot of my friends.

She starts off by ho-ing and hum-ing about how she looks like shit, and she's going on a date tonight. She asks me if her lipstick is too red. Does it look too whorish?

Upon a polite no, her box (not that box, thank god. I mean I don't think.) opens and details start pouring out about how she "doesn't even give a fuck" if she dates this guy, she just wants some "god damned cock." She tells me she's 34 (which is impossible, sorry) and that she's so desperate that she's even hit on her mechanic. "At this point I'll even fuck a Mexican," she tells me.

I'm completely aghast but choke out a polite response; I ask if she's ever tried Craigslist. She laughs for an awkwardly long time and tells me she's not THAT desperate. She says she and "the Mexican" went for a walk after he changed her oil and everything seemed to be going well until he asked how old she was, she told him, and he told her that she "looks good for her age." She was so appalled by his response (which I think was pretty fucking nice considering there's no way she's 34 in the first place) that she pouted all the way back to the dealership, jumped in her car, and sped off. But now she can't understand why he hasn't even called her, "that motherfucker."

She goes on to tell me that I better "enjoy youth while it lasts" because once I hit 30 it all goes downhill. The guys her age "won't fuck anyone over 28" and no matter how amazing she looks, there's always some young girl to get in the way of her much-needed dick quota. That, or the guys that will fuck her (please excuse my language, I'm only recounting what she said to me) can't get it up or "have a cock the size of [her] ring finger."

I kid you not, this actually happened. I wish I was exaggerating. Once all the napkin dispensers were full, she said, "nice talking to you!" totally cheerfully and since then has acted as if she and I have only just met. Oh wait! That was actually the case. Jesus.

Another example:
A few nights later I walk up to the same wait station (which I'm starting to gather has some sort of smutty aura that makes girls generous with the raunchiest parts of their lives) and into a conversation that two of my co-workers are having about one of their new boyfriends. One is looking in a little pocket-sized mirror, perfecting some totally vampy shade of violet-red lipstick while her friend fills pitchers of ice water. She asks the water girl if it looks even, and she replies, "does it really matter? You're just gonna smear it all over his dick anyway." Here we go again.

They both turn around and look and me and giggle, and then continue on as if I'm naturally just part of this conversation. The one applying tells us that she kissed a piece of paper for him to take to his tattoo artist so he can get it tattooed on his ass. I can tell by the tone of her voice and the look in her eyes that this is by far the most romantic thing that's ever happened to her.

Water girl tells Lipstick Girl that she shouldn't let him do that, because she's going to get tired of him and break his heart. I ask how long they've been together, they burst into a fit of giggles. "They're not actually together," Water Girl tells me. "Well kind of!" Lipstick Girl says. I ask, again, how long they've been "seeing each other." They tell me three weeks. That's not bad. Water Girl says, "Yeah, but tell her how long his girlfriend has known."

Lipstick Girl starts telling me about how he was going down on her (!!!) a few mornings ago at around 9am when his girl friend (not to be confused with girlfriend; apparently this girl is just a friend of his who likes to "cockblock" him at every possible moment.... her word, not mine) called to ask what time he wanted to hang out, although they didn't have any prior plans. She kept insisting that they did have plans, but Lipstick Girl is convinced the Cockblock only called 'cause she knew she was over. The CB went on to whine and complain that ever since "that girl" has been around he didn't have any time for her. LG goes on to tell me about how she just got kicked out of her house and moved in with him, and they are now living together, though they hardly know each other.

Lastly, she tells me about the most perfect first date she's ever had - their first meeting. She met him through some mutual friends at a party where she was pretty trashed, and slept with him.

Yep. End of story. I know... for a hopeless romantic like myself that's almost too much! I think the look on my face wasn't enough to convince her that I was impressed, so she explained, so very earnestly, that it only made sense because she hadn't had GOOD sex in 5 months.

Almost brings a tear to your eye, doesn't it?

Right before bringing some appetizers to her table, she says it'll have to only be head tonight though, 'cause she's on her period. WOW.

Every time I was standing there with another waitress they end up either telling me or someone else something I absolutely didn't want to know.

What is it about that counter??

Old News... New Reminders

If you hadn't figured it out yet, I'm sort of ballsy.

Around 6 months ago, right around the time I was moving here, I posted a craigslist ad somewhere along the lines of, "woe is me, I'm new here and don't know anyone, I am a hot modern day damsel in distress, can a cute boy please come rescue me from a lonely life to show me around and then make out after?" .... Basically. In so many words.

As usual, I got about 50 responses an hour (little tip: if you really want a LOT of responses, just post a picture), most of which were the usual, ridiculous, sad, and unbelievables that tend to haunt craigslist in the wee hours of the morning. I got one that perked up my little online dating senses, although I will tell you with the utmost honesty that I would never date anyone with the premise that they would pay me to do so. Unless I would want to date them regardless. And I don't know if I could actually take money from someone anyway... that's a world I don't think I could cross into, ever. Still, intriguing. Curiousity killed the cat.

... It went something like this:

Him: I'm a Mediterranean venture capitalist with stakes in oil and real estate. I also have strong ties to the entertainment industry. Does 8k a month sound like a reasonable allowance?
Me: Hmm...
Him: What are you hmm-ing about? Sam N*********, look up the name.
Me: did.... so you've produced some movies, you've got some clubs, restaurants, hotels, you're on the younger side of the spectrum, fun, business minded, and living in j.lo's old pad.... explain to me why you are on craigslist? thats my only question. :)
Him: I'm tired of dating within the Hollywood circle. Simple as that. If you're really interested, write back with your number and we'll go from there.
Me: Yeah I can understand that. I bet you've got a bunch of interesting stories, you'll have to tell me some. :) My number is ***-***-****, guess I'll talk to you soon? I'll be busy for most of the night tonight and working all day tomorrow so if you call and I don't answer leave a message so I know who it was.

(A week goes by... nothing.)

Me: How 'bout this.... call me if YOU'RE for real.
Him: I did call. You didn't answer.
Me: Try again. Leave me a message if I don't answer so I know who called.
Him: I called again today, no answer.
Me: Sorry about that. I don't always answer calls if I don't recognize the number, so if you leave me a message I'll call you back, or if you want to give me yours so I know its you when you're calling you can do that too.

(End scene.)

So basically that was it for our dry email exchange. Though the idea of dating the guy responsible for some of the hottest clubs in Hollywood and some of the nicest and trendiest hotels and restaurants in the country is fascinating and tempting, I'm not one to chase someone all over the place. I forgot all about him......

UNTIL TONIGHT.

I'm driving to meet up with my friend for Maki Monday (which rules by the way), and for whatever reason all my favorite radio stations are playing crap music. So... coincidentally enough, I decide to turn on Indie 103.1, which I NEVER listen to, to find that the DJ is interviewing the proprietor of Bolthouse Entertainment.

I am too amazed and shocked to really hear what they're saying, but I keep hearing this and that about this guy, THE GUY, I was emailing some months back. They start a friendly banter about the most recent parties, and music, and whatever other bullshit they were discussing, while I'm scrambling to dial 411 to get the number for this radio station.

411 connects, "Los Angeles, CA please" (I'm so distracted trying to listen and talk at the same time), "Indie 103.1 please? No that's Indie with an 'i-e' not a 'y,' yes that's right, thank you," I'm connected, the phone is ringing.... what the HELL am I going to say to this guy??

The DJ answers as if I just called his cell phone.

"Ya, hello?"
"Is this Indie?"
"Yeah... wuddup."
"Um.... is Sam there?"
"Hang on a second."

I hear him in the background getting Sam on the line. My heart is racing. I have NO IDEA how to even start this conversation. Does he want to try calling me again? Does he remember emailing me off of Craigslist? Will I sound like a stalker nut-job?

"Hello?"
"Hi... Sam?"
"Yeah, who's asking?"
"My name's B*******..... um.... well I met you about 6 months ago, and we exchanged a bunch of emails.... we sort of lost touch, I 'd.... like to be in touch again..."
"Huh."
(There's some awkward silence.)
"Well... why did we lose touch?"
"I'm not sure.. we just sort of stopped writing."
"Yeah... to be honest this isn't Sam... He's not actually here in the studio. This is Brent.... B********."
"Oh... ok well, can you maybe give Sam my email address?" (More silence) "....Or phone number or something?"
"Here's what you should do.... here's my myspace, its myspace.com backslash ______ ________, go on there, email me your phone number or email or whatever, I'll give it to him, and he can do what he wants with it. Fair?"
"Sure..... Thank you."

Strangest interaction of my life.
But... lo and behold, I did find him, I did email him, and hopefully my number did make it back there. And if not to Sam, maybe Brent. :) Truth be told, he's kind of my type. (See photo insert, but try to ignore the girl with the orange arm and the MJ nosejob.) I almost see a little Adam Brody in him... except a little more geeky hipster chic. So hot right now.

To Bro or not to Bro?

Remember a few days ago, when I told you about that bro that posted on craigslist?

Originally, I said, "Are you for real?" (There's no way, bros don't care about substance.) To which he replied, "of course."

That's where it got weird.

Me: Interesting... what city are you in?
Him: I live in Newport. I work in marketing. What about you? Any more pics?
Me: I live in Aliso Viejo. I'm 23 and a makeup artist. I have lots more, do you? (Attached 3 pics)
Him: Here are a few. (I kid you not.)
Me: what you say in your post and the pictures you send are pretty
inconsistent.... if you're looking for something "lasting" and "with
substance," may i see something other than your naked chest? do you
have a face?
Him: Ya ok


Me: Alright, I guess you're legit. What do you do for fun?
Him: lol.. do you have a myspace?
Me: yeah, http:www.myspace.com/___________, its private you have to add me.
Him: Just added.
Me: You sure? What's your name? (I had two adds, neither of which looked ANYTHING like the pictures above.)
Him: Casey. (Very much in my friend request folder, and very much NOT the guy above.)
Me: Yeah... Are you kidding? 1996 called, they want its sending fake pictures over the internet back.
Him: Well it is Craigslist.
Me: Then why POST on Craigslist in the first place?? I sent you real pictures, are you saying I shouldn't have? As it turns out your real pictures would have made me want to talk to you far more than those lame ass fake ones. I thought you were a bro.
Him: A bro?

At this point I just stopped writing back, I think I got busy, or at least too busy to continue such a pointless exchange. I later tried to find his page again so that I would be able to link to it for this blog, only to find that he'd deleted me. Serious.

Me: Interesting.... I can't seem to find you on my myspace friends list.
Him: Ya, well I don't know what a "bro" is, but I don't think I like it.


WOW.

And the search for a non-WEIRDO continues.

Ironically, he was actually cute.

Bro? Party of one?

I can't say I'm exactly the type of girl who goes for the bro look. Actually, not at all. Especially because the term "bro" is usually interchangeable with prick, douchebag, asshole, and scumsucker. In my experience, bros have 0% personality matched with an overactive libido and an elevated level of testosterone. When mixed with bad taste in clothing, music, and vehicles, these guys don't typically rev my engine.

Plus, I can't say I've ever met a bro who was actually looking for a girl "of substance." Bros are well matched with "bro-hoes" (like the OC Blonde Mafia, or the 909-er to the left) who actually make their bro counterparts look intelligent and classy. Bros go for these girls because they make them feel like more of a man, and because they don't take much... well... effort.

Anyway, the point I'm getting at is that cruising OC Craigslist today, as I sometimes do, I found a bro. While this is no surprise, his posting was. Normally it would say something along the lines of "Any girls out there want to get crunk tonight? Holla!" Followed by 5 shirtless pictures where he is obviously flexing his 'roid-pumped 6-pack, taken somewhere like Glamis or "the river."

Somehow, though (despite the shirtless pictures... dead bro giveaway) this posting was nothing like that. I thought I'd give him props by posting it, and highlighted the most surprising parts.

Since your browser may not give proper resolution to the image, I'll help you out:

• He's looking for something "successful and lasting"
• He is definitely "not one of those guys that feels inferior around girls who are smarter" than him
• He wants someone who is "witty, sarcastic" and has "a great sense of humor" (redundant, but I'm throwing him a bone because its hard to find a guy who appreciates a sarcastic sense of humor in a girl, I've found)
• He "does not do well with ditsy, materialistic fake girls" (so then, you're saying you're not into these?)

Hmm..... truth be told, I actually responded to it, just to see if I hallucinated or not. Yeah, my response was literally, "are you for real?" So far he's written back, "of course." We'll see. I'll be sure to post the results. :)

We look good together, no?

I’m sure most of you have seen The OC right? I mean I think it’s cancelled now, but 90% of the people I know used to watch it religiously…. Anyway, my point is, remember Seth Cohen? Played by Adam Brody? Drool…

Well basically he is the guy of my dreams. I don’t know what it is about him (well, besides the fact that I’m painfully attracted to him)… I like the fact that he’s nerdy but totally charming in his own way, and doesn’t really make any excuses for being such a dork. I’ve been swooning over Seth/Adam (I like to believe he’s actually like that in real life, totally unlikely but a girl can dream) ever since I started watching the show a few years ago. I realize that he’s sort of out of my league, considering I’m not a fellow celebrity and have come to terms with the fact that I will probably never meet him. (Sidenote: if you have any way of making this happen I will be forever in your debt)

Somehow, though, my most recent posting on Craigslist produced his identical twin. I’m in total disbelief.

I got the usual absolutely awful, nonrelevant responses, and out of all the unattractive 56 year old married men looking for “yoga partners,” I got one from this guy, Nick D. He’s 24, a student at a super prestigious private school about 20 minutes from my house, and is without a doubt a mirror image of Seth Cohen… big brown eyes, curly brown hair, hot clothing style, great taste in Indie rock… could I ask for more?

Well yes… I can’t say our first date was all I had dreamed it would be, but it was nice. His idea was breakfast and I actually agreed to waking up early (crazy). He looked really hot in a white hoodie, sexy jeans, converse, and a burberry scarf. He’s definitely stylish. We made small talk over omelets and I can’t say that we had all that much chemistry at that point, and I was pretty unimpressed when they bill came and he accepted my offer to pay for half. I never want to assume someone’s paying on the first date because I don’t want to seem presumptuous, but going dutch is such a turn off if you ask me. But nobody’s perfect right? Then we went downtown and did some window shopping and he seemed to loosen up a lot, and I actually started to think we were making a connection. We ended up finding the most ridiculously Euro-trash style shades, getting matching pairs, and walking around in them looking pretty hot if I do say so myself.

Then he drove me to work, met my co-workers (who were totally impressed), and said he wants to hang out again…. Guess we’ll see what happens!

....

Hi! Thanks for stumbling upon my blog.

I’m your average 23 year old girl living in Southern California. I like going to the beach, shopping, eating sushi, reading celebrity gossip magazines… and all that other nonsense girls my age tend to do with their time. I’m really outgoing and love to go out because I tend to meet people wherever I go. I love to people watch and analyze body language, and I’m probably the biggest flirt that I know.

I do have this one kind of embarrassing habit though…

Before I get into that, the backstory is that I’ve always been a little boycrazy. Well maybe a bit more than a little. From the time I was in 3rd grade, I’ve always had some major, all-consuming crush on some shy, unassuming boy. What started with running around the blacktop trying to kick Timmy Slevin (a not-so-stealthy attempt to get his attention) has blossomed over the past 15 years into what some might consider a total addiction to the entire male population. But I like to think it could be worse.

When it comes down to it though, what I’m really addicted to is dating.

I wasn’t always like this. I had a few serious boyfriends between my high school and college years. Nothing really serious ever evolved out of them… until one day when I met the boy of my dreams (I thought) and fell head over heels in love with him.

Two years later, after 24 straight months of the I-feel-like-I’m-floating-on-a-cloud kind of love, he dumped me. There are no words to express how upside down my life felt. He’d gone to the trouble of detailing romantic ideas about how we were going to get engaged in a year, married in two, settle down, start our family, and live happily ever after… he loved to talk about it, and I loved just as much to listen to it. I fell for every word and really believed that I’d found the love of my life.

As it turned out, he was lying out of his ass (as men often do…. Sorry guys, but its just statistics) and I was left in a crumpled pile of damp tissues and self pity. And it changed me.

Somehow, that event has led me to believe that there really is a Prince Charming out there somewhere, that is sitting on his white horse waiting patiently for me to find him so we can ride off into the sunset.

Here’s where that habit comes in: I’ve become kind of a serial dater.

My friends would all tell you that I date way more than any one person should. Because I’ve developed this constant need for a steady flow of dates, I’ve broadened my horizons on where to find them. Many of my dates come from posting personals ads online (gotta love http://www.craigslist.org/), some come from work, others are mutual friends, a few even come from the grocery store. Whatever it is that happened on that painful July afternoon last year has given me some heart-shaped glasses and 20/20 vision… and my eyes are always open.

I realized eventually, after spending countless hours on the phone recounting the details of my dates (and very often, disasters) to my ever-so-patient friends, I needed to start documenting this stuff. Who knows… maybe someone out there can learn from my mistakes (and victories… if I ever have one).

So here goes. I’ll try to give even the juiciest details, though to protect the innocent, I will never use full names (sorry Timmy Slevin… oops that’s twice!). But other than that, I’ll give you as much info as I can muster.

Feel free to comment and share your opinions, I know you got ‘em.

Stay tuned… there’s plenty to come!