A Date To Remember

I am so sorry to keep you guys on the edge of your seats all weekend, but a busy schedule superseded writing this post.

So! Down to business. As I said before, Thursday was the "big day," or date, so to speak. I wrote that as I was getting ready, thinking Mason Stanley would be ready around 8. At 7:40 he texted to say he was ready and leaving in a few minutes. Slightly panicked (totally not ready yet, new shirt I was going to wear wrinkled and in the dryer [right], etc), I said to text me when he left; that way I'd be prepared when he got here, right?

So I continue getting ready, phone on vibrate (I'm an idiot sometimes). I hear the doorbell ring, and ask my roommate to get the door; definitely not my plan. She lets him in and I stand in my room, trying to figure out how I'm going to walk downstairs, say hi to him, grab my shirt, and put it on without it being awkward. So I just sort of go for it. Say hi, run back upstairs, put it on, and I'm good to go. (4 minutes my ass!)

We take off to dinner in his car, which apparently is a big deal because he's never usually the one to drive when he goes out with his friends. We get to the restaurant, which is a family-owned type of local Italian place, very cute. We pick a table and order and start talking. We review our conversation from our first meeting, most of which he didn't recall. We talk about our families and friends. One of the waiters comes over and brings us a pink shot that we all take together. We trade our accounts of trying out for Parental Control on MTV (which we were both on), and he convinces me to tell him the "craziest thing I've ever done," which they made me describe on the show, though I'm not sure it made it into the episode. He says, "that's it? Boooring..." So, naturally, I call him out; "I'm sorry that I don't 'sleep with more guys than is safe or reasonable,'" which is a line from his Myspace (sub girls for guys). For a brief moment I think I may have actually embarrassed the unembarrassable (self-professed) but he recovers smoothly and explains that it's a quote from one of his favorite authors; I guess it. "Tucker Max?" The conversation continues, as we figure out we're both fans, and through one of his friends that knows him we should be able to hang out with him soon. (Future plans? Check.)

We eat and drink our beers and take off when we realize the place is closing. I had thought he had come up with a whole plan (my guess was bowling), but once we walked out he didn't know what we should do. One of us suggested the Hookah place a few doors down and we went in to get one. I've been there before and it was pretty cool, but for some reason it just seemed really sketchy and weird, and there weren't any couches left. We looked at each other and decided unanimously to try something else. We hop in the car and he starts driving towards a club a little ways away but second guesses himself. He asks if I want to go bowling, which I did.

He buys two games and assures me that they won't make me wear the rental shoes (ay yay yay). He helps me pick out my ball (since I'm A. very weak and need a very light ball and B. adult size and my fingers don't fit in the child sizes), and after throwing one a security guy walks up and tells me I need shoes, so we go get some and get back to our game. He gave me some good pointers, which helped a few times, but for the most part I.... decided to let him win. Don't want to throw off his male ego, ya know? Ha. We both seem to relax a bit while we're playing, and start being more goofy. He was being flirty, and would find reasons to nudge me or touch my arm every time we passed each other, which was cute.

After the second game we get back in the car and start driving, to nowhere in particular, he says. We end up in Dana Point, and he drives up on a cliff along the ocean. He says he's going to show me a gazebo he likes to hang out at. Again, I call him out; "Oh, is this the move you pull on all the girls?" He says no, and we end up just driving by it. I laugh and we head back in the direction we came from.

We drive by a bar that we both realized we go to a lot, and he suggests we go there, but then says we shouldn't because he knows so many people there. Is he afraid of people seeing him with me? Really? It occurs to him how it sounded and he tries to explain that he doesn't want to be distracted by other people. Good answer.

We end up in the next town by the water and at the same bar but a different location. As we walk in he runs into a pretty blonde girl that he introduces me to immediately, and she's really excited to see him. He tells me they went to prom together after he met her at the restaurant he worked at a week before her prom. We sit at the bar and order some drinks, and I open a tab. We talk for awhile and decide to sit outside and chat after getting another drink.

We sit outside talking, and discuss work and a lot of deeper topics that we hadn't really touched on so far in the evening. Up until that point the conversation was really good but seemed very surface level, and it seemed like we both opened up a little bit at that point. One thing I really like about talking to him is that he makes really good eye contact the whole time and I get the impression that he's listening really intently. We find that we've had a lot of similar experiences and it seems like we're connecting. He tells me he knows the owner of a salon that's really well known and will take me to the next event they have there. (More future plans? Check.)

At this point I'm a little buzzed (I'm a major lightweight, if I haven't mentioned that already) and we decide its time to head back to my house since I have to work the next day. When we get back to my house, he pulls up to the curb, with the engine running. He asks me if I want him to walk me to the door.

If I have a choice between being dropped off on the sidewalk or actually saying a proper goodbye after spending the evening together, which do you think I'm going to choose?

So, I tell him it's up to him, which is obvious girl-language for "there's only one right answer and I hope you choose wisely," which he figures out. As we're walking to the door I start worrying that wanting him to walk me to the door might look like me "wanting him to walk me to the door," a la that scene from Hitch when he explains that the girl stands in front of the door and fumbles with her keys because she's waiting for the guy to kiss her. I can tell you, at least usually after the first date, trying to make that awkward goodbye on the front stoop into a notable first kiss almost never works out the way its supposed to. Plus, (not to steal his thunder, but it's the truth) it's totally forced. Anyway. So we're walking towards my door and I'm really hoping he doesn't think I want him to walk me up there so we can have that awkward first-date kiss in front of the door, and then I'm thinking maybe I should have just gotten out of the car. Ugh.

So we get there, and he gives me a big hug and tells me he had a really good time, which is actually a little surprising coming from him, because he's mostly on the more sarcastic/dry side. I agree and we talk about how we'll hang out again. Then he goes in for another hug, and as I go to hug him back he sort of leans away, and then I sort of lean away 'cause I'm thinking, what is he doing? Is he trying to kiss me? And we look at each other. And then he sort of leans back in for the hug, and I do too, and then we pull away, and now it's super awkward. And then he says, "whoa, were you trying to kiss me?!"

Omg. No. No I wasn't. And now, as though that little half hug situation weren't awkward enough, now we're on my front stoop arguing about who was trying to kiss who. At least we're both laughing. A lot.

So I open my door and go in as he walks to his car, and I blow him a kiss as he gets in, which makes him smile (cheesy or not).

I get in my house and realize I left my leftovers in the backseat of his car, and I'm actually kind of bummed 'cause they were so good, but I don't want to be the girl that texts the guy the second he leaves. It's so much more satisfying if he texts me after instead.

I go upstairs and go to bed, falling asleep pretty quickly. When I wake up for work I see he texted me soon after he left to say he has my leftovers, but all that means is that now I'll have to hang out with him again. Cute! Oh, and a notable text during that day (because who doesn't love the use of totally tacky pick-up lines at the right moment?): After he said he was really tired, I told him I knew why... because he was running through my mind all day! Yep. Super cheesy. But when that's the point, I like to think it's sort of charming.

He was out of town for the weekend, though we were texting every day. He can sometimes be cute, but also sometimes sarcastic, which I'm into. One without the other, or when they're way out of balance, is never a good recipe for flirting, but he's got both. I love to be sarcastic and feisty, and I get the feeling a lot of the time that people don't get it, or that it scares them away, so it's always nice to find someone who can dish it out and take it too.

Anyway.... he got home yesterday, and asked me today if I had plans for tonight, which I didn't. And we went out again! But that's a story that I'll save for tomorrow. :)

Suffice it to say, things went well.

Drum Roll Please...

Tonight is the night!

I ended up getting off of work earlier than I expected to so Mason Stanley and I are going out when he gets done with work. He should be here in like 45 minutes... eek.

He asked me for ideas and I told him I trust him to figure something out.... I don't know why but it seems like he's worried about coming up with a good plan! I feel bad. I'm not hard to impress in terms of activities; as long as there is good conversation and a connection, and he's sweet, I don't care what we do. (And of course, there is a little added pressure, what with having an audience and all. It's gotta be blog worthy!)

Anyway, he said he had come up with a plan, and it sounds like we're going to get dinner and maybe something else after that? We'll see.

And as always.... I'll fill you in on all the details very soon.

Well-bred, Ill-spoken

I've never gotten over how strange it is to run into someone from what seems like a past life.

A few years ago, while I was still in college, I had met this guy on campus while I was studying in the language lab. I'd noticed him immediately as he entered - we'll call him Model Todd- he was hard to miss. He was especially good-looking, though not my typical "look" (not usually into the blond hair and blue eyes situation), great build, very sharply dressed, and struck up a conversation with me about the professors in the Spanish department. Though initially very handsome, when he spoke something changed. I'm the first to admit that confidence is super sexy, but there was something very socially stunted about the way he talked. It was almost as if his timing was off-kilter. His responses seemed delayed and choppy, and the conversation was generally just very awkward. I figured he was nervous (which is kind of charming in its own right), and when he asked to take me out for dinner the next night I accepted. I like to give people a fair chance, especially after a bold display of cajones.

The next night I drove to Model Todd's house to meet him for dinner. He lived on a cliff overlooking the ocean with an amazing view and a friendly roommate. When I got there (10 minutes late... as always) his roommate said he was getting ready and went to tell him I was there. So I sat waiting for 25 minutes while he "finished his hair." I kid you not - that was the explanation he gave me (lacking apology or even notice of my own late arrival) when he finally emerged from the bathroom with expertly coiffed spikes.

We took off for dinner in my car, because it turned out he didn't have one. He chose a pretty cool new restaurant that had a live jazz band that night and a great martini list. Our chat over dinner was almost identical to the one in the language lab, and it became hard to believe it was just nerves. Over the course of the conversation, he told me that he was born and raised in Connecticut, and moved out to Southern California to pursue his modeling career, which he does part time along with his college classes. I started to realize that the only time he was engaged in our conversation was while he was talking about modeling (as there was nothing else he liked talking about), and any time it was my turn to talk his eyes got more glazed than donuts. I'm sure we've all had one of those conversations that's just one of the people sitting there waiting 'til it's their turn to talk, right?

It got to a point where he would ask me some bland, generic question and visibly space out while I attempted to answer it quickly enough to keep his interest. Eventually, I gave up. The rest of the evening I learned about the diet, sleep schedule, and workout routine of any successful male model, why every guy with nice abs should wear only Armani button-ups, and why it's absolutely essential that I have my own airbrush tanning kit at home. Snore.

We paid (and split the bill, eat your heart out) and left. I was ready to bail as soon as I dropped him off, but he wanted me to see his portfolio. The potential image of this aggressively attractive 20-something guy in underwear was enough to convince me to park and hang out for a bit. And to be honest, the pictures were totally worth it. I left without kissing him goodnight or plans to contact him again, and that feeling was mutual. We didn't speak for years.

Up until, of course! Saturday, when I ran into him at the specialty grocery store down the road from my house. Apparently we've both moved to the same area. This time, he seemed completely different; he was now poised, confident, and smooth. It was hard to believe this was even the same Model Todd I had gone out with years ago. He had no problem making conversation, and seemed so interested in what I had been up to. He told me he'd always really regretted not seeing me again and wanted to hang out and catch up. How could I turn that down?

So Sunday night he came and picked me up (he now has a car... guess that modeling career finally paid off) and took me to the wine bar across the street. Apparently I was a little off about this new and improved version of Model Todd, as he still adores talking about himself. Much of it was review from the last date, and I was strongly reminded why I didn't want to hang out with him again the first time. But I graciously conversed, split the bill again, and went home.

Normal, right?

'Til the past few days, when he's called me quite a few times. I pick up every once in awhile, talk to him for a minute or two, and say I have things to get done and I'll talk to him later. I've politely turned down his requests to hang out. For some reason, he isn't getting the hint.

So I get to work today, and as I'm with my first client of the day I'm told by the receptionist that I have a "visitor." Go ahead. Guess who it was.

So here I am, in the middle of giving someone what's supposed to be a stress-relieving scalp-massage/shampoo, while I have Model Todd sitting on the next shampoo bowl talking to me. Embarrassing. I told him I'd be done in an hour if he wanted to come back, and he didn't even take that hint. He was still sitting a foot away from me, talking, when I finished blowdrying my second client, and I finally had to tell him that I'd call him later. Ugh!

So now I have an entire salon full of girls wanting to know A. WHO that guy was and how I know him, and B. how on EARTH I can be so uninterested in one of the studliest men on the planet.

I don't know where to begin.

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...

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?

The most epic week in history.

Firstly, I apologize for the lack of posts the last week. I really am very sorry (and appreciate the concern and emails); I am in fact ok, and I have just been up to my neck in sexy boys... that's all. :)

And secondly, if you had any idea what has been going on, you would understand my need to gather my thoughts before I write about it.

So. Let's do this day by day.


Last Friday
My potential hat trick, which ended up being one date with an excrutiatingly attractive, yet very odd little guy for lunch, being stood up at Starbucks (but scoping out a few major hotties that work there) and then meeting a few duds at the bar with my roommates. Plus a substantial amount of turning down the weird OKC hottie (Kelly) from lunch, who despite having said he was going to be too busy to hang out 'til the coming Thursday, kept asking if I would meet up with him again. I said no, and we made plans to hang out Thursday. I asked if he was a "smitten kitten." He wrote back, "meow!" Classic.


Saturday
After working all day, I rushed home to change, extravagate (v: to make extravagant) my makeup, and throw some overnight shit in a bag, and headed off to West Hollywood to hang with my super sexy gay friends. It was absolutely pouring rain so the drive took a bit longer than expected. While I was driving I got a phone call from Ken, a plastic surgeon in LA that found me on OKCupid, and we chatted for a bit and made plans to have afternoon mojitos for Sunday Funday the next day. I finally arrived at my friends' apartment where we had shots out of beakers and cabbed it down to Fiesta Cantina (quickly becoming my very favorite place) where we partied all night with some of the hottest guys I've ever seen in person (admittedly pretty torturous... but great eye candy nonetheless). I made a new BFF, Peter, a really sexy tall brunette who I hung out with all night, hand in hand, and he got me sufficiently drunk by buying me two drinks at a time. I intoxicatedly set him up for a threesome with two other sexy guys. Ha! Such is life. I've heard I'm a great matchmaker... guess it follows in the gay world too. Eventually my friends and I made it back to their apartment where I was so drunk I couldn't lay down without spinning, and was basically just a walking disaster.
We woke up the next day around 10 (thank the holy heavens I didn't have to work), though I stayed in bed 'til 1, unable to move without wanting to die instead. I texted Ken to tell him there was no way I could touch a mojito, and he agreed and suggested food instead. He called me soon after to cancel because he had to go calm down a patient in a panic, thinking his stitches were coming apart. Ew!
When I got back in the evening I freshened up and headed over to my new favorite Starbucks for my signature drink of choice and a little flirting with the boys behind the counter. I've decided to become a regular. Unfortunately, Hottie McFirecrotch wasn't working.... but one of the other hotties was.
After getting home, I spend a long while online chatting with a few different people; namely the Ex, who I've done quite a bit of texting/iming/chatting with on the phone as of late. Upon telling him about his long-lost redhead twin, he tells me he's probably evil and I should stay as far away from him as I can. And admits to maybe being a little jealous. Interesting..


Sunday
I worked all day as usual, somehow still a bit hungover. You know you've had a great time when you're hungover for two days, I always say. And it really doesn't happen often. Texted briefly with Ken about hanging out with him sometime this week... I can't say he's exceptionally attractive, but he's nice looking, passionate about what he does, ambitious, smart, and seems like a very nice guy. When I got home, one of my best friends imed me about a reggae concert on February 8th, which seemed random, considering I'm not really a huge fan of reggae or anything... I mean its ok, but I don't go out of my way to see it live. Anyway, she explained that she and this guy she's been dating for a few months were going, but that her guy was bringing one of his best friends (again, named Peter.... guess its a good name for sexy boys), who she described as REALLY REALLY HOT, and that I just had to meet him.
Ok, I'll take the bait.
So she sent me his myspace profile, and she wasn't lying. Not only does he have classically sexy, masculine good looks (strong jaw line, nice body, green eyes, tan skin, sexy smile, etc... think a young Val Kilmer) but he's really into kite surfing, he's an engineer (smart is oh-so-sexy), and is Czech.... and has a slight accent. So I start drooling on my keyboard and enthusiastically agree to go.
Ended the night as I have been for the past few weeks, texting flirty messages back and forth with the Ex. Hard to turn that back burner off, as it turns out.


Monday
After working all day, me and my friend C from work met up at my new fave Starbucks for some coffee and oogling... though yet again, my sexy redhead was nowhere to be found. The other hottie, the tall blue-eyed boy with shaggy brown hair and a disarming smile, was though, and I wasn't complaining. He made my drink and winked at me when I picked it up. C and I sat and talked awhile, and ended up going to Maki Monday since we were both starving. I managed to down a beer (after having professed that I was "never drinking again" the day before) and a few rolls. After telling her all about my most recent trip to Weho, we made plans to go next time our schedules both allow it.

Tuesday
Worked all day again (I basically live there), and found out I finally got some time off to see my family up north; coincidentally where the Ex lives as well. He seemed excited about the news and we made enthusiastic plans to spend my first day together. At lunch I texted with Weird OKC Hottie (Kelly), who insisted that we have dinner, despite having been "booked" last time he checked. I gave in and told him I hate making decisions, so he picked a Japanese place by his house, and I headed over there after work.
It was the type of place where you order a bunch of little plates of stuff, which is really awesome except when you are, again, someone who hates making decisions. I told him just to order since he knows what I like, and he did, gladly. And for whatever reason that was a huge turn on. He wrote up a list of a ton of stuff on the back of the sushi sheet and handed it to our waitress. We had an alright conversation, a little strained, but the 4 glasses of plum wine helped a lot. By the end we were flirty, we walked out holding hands, and he kissed me. We ended up back at his apartment down the street (VERY clean... almost creepy clean) and watched Planet Terror (turns out Zombies oozing pus out of large facial boils is not the most romantic thing ever, but oh well) and cuddled, and made out a lot... which was good except for once every few minutes he'd shove his tongue down my throat out of the blue and I kept saying, "dude, chill out." But it didn't work. We laid there talking for awhile (and to be perfectly honest with you, a few of his comments and big sudden changes in mood were causing my crazy radar to go off, but.... eh), and it somehow came up that he has a "type," which has turned out to be, in blunt terms, fat chicks.
He told me that, in all honesty, I was just not his type physically because I'm too skinny (his word, not mine), but he just thinks that I'm so gosh darn beautiful that it doesn't bother him. Now, in my right mind, that would be an amazing thing to hear (what girl doesn't want to be told she's almost too skinny?) but, what? You're into fat chicks? What? He told me his ideal range is 160-250. Instantly this is a huge turn off (also, keep in mind that he's about 5'6", 145 lbs), but I'm kinda buzzed still and change the subject back to making out. Eventually he walks me out and insists that he sees me again; I agree to it for whatever reason.


Wednesday
Another long, tediously slow day at work, filled with gossiping about boys and eyeing the hotties I work with (one nice perk of my job) that I have crushes on... a girl can never have too many, if you ask me. Spend an hour on the phone with the Ex after work; I still get butterflies when I see him name on the caller id. Sue me. We hung up when he got a call on the other line, and I never heard from him again.


Thursday
Finally a day off for yours truly, thank GOD. Needless to say, I did hardly anything with it, as usual (other than the same boring errands as every other day off, and a trip, of course, to my fave Starbucks for a little sight-seeing.... Firecrotch STILL not there, what the heck??), until the late afternoon when I drove a friend to the airport. I'd texted Ken (the plastic surgeon) earlier in the day to ask what his plans are, and he said we should get dinner in the Marina. After I left the airport I was on my way up to LA, but made him promise we could go somewhere super casual, as I was in a pony tail and converse (which I can assure you with the utmost honesty is not how I would EVER consider presenting myself for a first date... But I didn't have time to go all the way back to my house and change, and just thought what the hell). I got there 90 minutes later (forgot about rush hour) and met up with him at the El Torito on the water.
Having thought he was a super sweet guy, I was unpleasantly surprised that he remained on his cell phone for the first 10 minutes of the date, yelling into the phone at his assistant about why he needs the window seat in the emergency exit aisle of the plane, or he's not flying. Hot. A totally self-obsessed, mannerless control freak? Sounds good to me! When he finally hung up we started talking, only to find that he was about 1,000% more egotistical and obnoxious than I had gathered on the phone. Eventually the conversation turned to a question I'm sure anyone would naturally have on their mind: "When you meet people, are you thinking about what you could do to them to make them look better?" He answered, "only on dates," which I laughed at, assuming he was being sarcastic.
What followed was a 5 minute, hands-on examination of my forehead in El Torito (him leaning completely over the table, pulling hard at my skin and angling my head in different ways); the result of which was a suggestion for a mere 40 ccs (or oz or grams or pounds or however you measure it) of botox every five months. He attempted to lift my chin off the table (which of course had fallen open in utter shock and horror) by telling me, "don't worry! No biggie! I'll do it at cost since I know you." Well, this was off to a beautiful start.
Eventually after he realized that was maybe not the perfect first date conversation, he went on to tell me why, other than a few "minor wrinkles" forming on my head, I have the ideal face, and described in detail how each of my features are ideal (other than the disaster that's going on above my eyes, apparently): How my nose is the perfect angle and size, my eyes are the ideal distance apart and a perfect shape, etc. I told him he was full of shit and he told me he majored in Classical Art before med school, and does medical illustration on the side. Fair enough.
Somehow, after picking at my salmon fajitas, he convinced me to go to this local hot spot in Venice, called The Brig (which is pronounced with a hard G, though it looks surprisingly like my nickname) and meet up with friend he went to med school with. This was all starting to sound like some gangrape set-up, so I insisted on taking my own car. I followed him (in his obnoxious black Corvette convertible... of course) and found that the place has a huge mural on the outside of a Cougar with a painful-looking cameltoe and a much older sugardaddy. And then my name painted in huge letters above it. I SO regret not taking a picture with my camera phone (sorry, this is the best I could find). I hope this is not a glimpse into my future.
We went in and got drinks, which he said he would pay for (duh) but that I should know right now that he's not the kind of guy who is going to "take care" of anyone, and that I shouldn't expect him to pay my rent. Are you serious? We got a table and by this point he was hardly speaking (other than him telling me about growing up in Canada.... what is it with me and Canadians lately??), but was pretty much just staring at me wistfully, and for whatever reason seemed to be getting increasingly nervous. I finally asked what was up. "Honestly... the more time I spend with you, the more I realize you're really fucking cool and the more I'm worrying about impressing you." Blah blah... told me he was totally smitten, etc. I'm not sure what it is I'm doing to guys this week, but I'm casting some sort of weird spell.
So his friend arrives, and is the complete opposite of Ken; he's a total hippie pot doctor with longish hair and a very calming demeanor. I spend most of the night talking to him because he's A. really cool B. married and totally not a skeeze and C. is clearly aware that his friend Ken is a total tool shed (ie apologizing for his forehead exam, etc). After a little while he disappears to play pool and somehow Ken ends up grabbing me and kissing me. Have you ever had someone kiss you, that you were totally not into kissing, so you forget to close your eyes, and here you are, looking right at this very unsexy person trying to make out with you with their eyes closed? It's not a pretty sight. I think I kissed back for a second but he has a goatee and I got grossed out by the whole situation and told him I had to go home (to which he kept replying, "just call in sick! I'll give you a doctor's note!"). He made me promise he could see me again. (Barf.) Texted with the Ex on the drive home, and told him all about the awful date of the evening and did some flirting as per the usual, though he seemed very distracted.


Friday
Back to the ol' grindstone for me. After I got off work I was just so freaking tired I couldn't even think about anything but putting on yoga pants and writing this. Sitting on my laptop around 9:45pm, I get an IM from the friend who invited me to the reggae concert for this coming Friday. She asks what I'm doing. I say nothing. She tells me she's sitting outside the random bar down the street, about to meet up with her boy and The Sexy Czechy and that she refuses to go inside until I get there. So I'm running around like a chicken with it's head cut off, trying to throw on something cute and put back on the makeup I'd rubbed off and make myself presentable enough to meet a MAJOR hottie.
I rush over and we meet up, I introduce myself, and spend the remainder of the night doing one of the following things: A. briefly flirting with him B. forgetting about/ignoring him (extremely effective when attempting to smittify [v: to woo someone into smitten-ness] those who are exceptionally attractive; it catches them off guard) C. making fun of all the ridiculous dancers at this really strange, trashy club in the middle of suburbanville, or D. drinking. By the end of the night, The Sexy Czechy was pretty much following me around like a puppy and his body language was a big "I have a big crush on you" billboard. After he bought me another drink I told him we had to go, and as the four of us departed, he grabbed my hand and held it all the way out to the car, where he insisted I give him my number (though I very coolly suggested he get my "contact info" from his friend when he said he had to see me again) hugged me for an extra long time, and then kissed me. And then again as I was getting in the car. Mission accomplished.
Texted with the Ex when I got home; didn't mention tonight's new boy. Got online and found this guy (we'll call him Fick) that found me on OKCupid (we've been iming/texting/talking on the phone, you know the drill) was online. He imed me and invites me to Taco Tuesday this week at his usual place, where I have never been, and tells me he's burning me a mixtape. Hot!


Saturday (yesterday)
The last day of our fiscal year at work, and completely out of control, but very financially successful. C and I met up afterwards at le Starbucks for some hottie-watching... yet again, the redhead wasn't there! What the f-! But as always, the cute shaggy-haired guy was working. As he was making my drink, he started making some awkward conversation with me.

"How's your night going?"
"...eh...Good.... how's yours?"
"Good now, I'm about to get off."
"Cool.... how long have you worked here?"
"Since July. Where do you work?" I told him, he asked me which location, I told him, he asked me what part. Hmm.
He finished making my drink and went to hand it to me, but took it back and looked at my name on the side, "B*******, huh?"
"Yep."
"Well mine's Randall. It's nice to finally meet you," ....uh.... "You were in here the other day right? You were sitting over in that corner for awhile, on your phone?"
".... yeah."
"Cool... (about 10 seconds of really intense eye contact) Well it was nice to meet you, B*******." And winked.

So I go sit with C, and after a few minutes he comes over with a tray of samples, which he offers to me, using my name. Oh jeez.
My roommate calls me and talks me into going with her to a party that's being thrown by a guy she was friends with in college, but hasn't talked to in over a year, and won't know anyone. Me and C rush back to my house, throw on heels and more appropriate party attire (uggs and a polo just weren't gonna do it for me) and head over to a house party that turns out to be straight out of a movie. They have a huge, very nice house in the pocket of a culdesac, that is the quintessential bachelor pad: four 25 year old guys living in a house complete with a pool table, a "love den" (seriously... a sunken room with shag carpets bean bag chairs and a fireplace), two gigantic tvs, Wii, a full built-in bar, a beer pong room, and (cherry on the sundae) a stripper pole. Needless to say, all of those elements were utilized by all three of us at some point during the night, though not necessarily in that order.
As it turns out, her friend from college throwing the party is VERY cute, VERY funny, VERY nice, and VERY flirty. Throughout the night we hung out and flirted and took shots and such every once in awhile, and I was crushing on him in a big way (though I think he's just a flirty guy). At some point I start telling him and his roommates about this guy I went out with the other day that likes fat chicks (Kelly, the weird OKC hottie), and since there were a few at the party, we decide its a good idea to call him and tell him to come over and meet them, which I do. In my drunken state this seemed like a fabulous plan, but as it turned out, he was incredibly clingy to start off with (for example, kept KISSING me in front of the guy throwing the party, and all the other cute guys I'd been flirting with all night.... what a cockblock) and then hurt that I was "trying to pawn him off," and then was totally dramatic when I was trying to explain that him liking fat chicks is just kind of a huge turn off and it was just not going to work out between us, even though I am painfully attracted to him and he really hasn't done anything wrong.... literally to a point where my friends had to come over and talk him out of bursting into tears. He finally says he has to go, and wouldn't even hug me goodbye. It was horrendous, and in hindsight I realize I was probably being a very awful (and drunk) person but at the time I thought I was doing the right thing. Eh.
My friends and I leave around 3:30am because 2/3 of us had to work today (me and C unfortunately) though the party was still definitely going strong. Her sexy friend walks out with us, with his arm around my waist and asks if he'll see me again, I tell him to call me (and then recall the drunken note I scribbled on the back of a receipt I found on his desk that says "Dear J***, you're cute, I wanted you to know I think so, call me love, B*******" except with no phone number, that I left on his laptop)
Finally, around 4 in the morning I crawl into my bed, drunk as a skunk and dreading work today.


Today
Got ready for work slowly and carefully, as to not wake the hangover monster lurking inside of me. Turns out only C and I were working, so it turned out to be a pretty fun day.
Headed over to le Starbucks after work to grab a coffee, but neither hottie was there. Came home and started this entry (literally HOURS ago), and got an im from the Ex, saying that he doesn't know why he "always lies" to me. GREAT. He fills me in on everything he's really been doing this week, though he's been telling me completely other things all along: meeting some girl visiting from Kentucky, spending almost every night with her at his friend's house, hooking up with her, taking her to the airport, and now missing her and talking to her all the time. Once again, the Ex has the uncanny ability to make me go from happy-go-lucky to sick-to-my-stomach anxious in less than 10 seconds. Eventually I told him I couldn't talk about it anymore, and after apologizing to me extensively, he was off to bed with the resolution to be a better person to me from now on.
I'll believe it when I see it.

Other than that crap, which I'm really over (though I've been saying that for three years and my feelings still haven't changed, which I wish I could explain), there are a lot of promising things happening this week; mainly Taco Tuesday with Fick, and the reggae concert on Friday. I haven't heard from Czech Peter since we met on Friday, but I figure maybe he's following the three-day rule.

Should be another good week. I'll try to fill you in on a more consistent basis, if schedule allows. :)


(P.S. Talk about recovering from a dry spell!)

Just a pinch o' twitch

Date numero dos with Sean (aka Twitch) was refreshingly low on the twitchometer.

He picked me up at my house this time and the plan was to go to Color Me Mine, which is... let's just say, not typically a date that a guy suggests. (See? Even Paris does it.) But I was all for it, seeing as I am embarrassingly crafty and all. We looked up online where the closest location was and headed over. Sean seemed tremendously more at ease, and I can't even specifically remember any super noticable twitching. When we got to the Town Center, we wandered around on a goose-chase for the pottery studio, which was on all the maps but was nowhere to be found. We realized eventually that where it was supposed to be located was now just a vacant spot, so we settled on a movie.

He suggested Juno (Rainn Wilson of The Office is officially the funniest convenience store clerk that's ever existed... "What the prognosis, Fertile Myrtle?") which I have really been wanting to see, and bought some tickets (or he did at least), and went inside. Upon finding the theater, we sat down but were totally confused by the fact that the movie was definitely already started, and we were a good 10 minutes early. No more than 30 seconds went by before the credits were rolling. We'd both left our cellphones at home and weren't wearing watches so we asked someone next to us. Yep.... we were an hour early.

I myself didn't think it was a big deal, other than being really funny, while he was completely humiliated that he'd somehow overshot the time by an hour, and apologized prefusely. I reassured him, told him it was no big deal, and he made me promise not to go tell any of my friends what a big "doofus" he is..... oops. :) We walked over to the rock'n'roll sushi restaurant/bar next door for a few drinks while we waited.

Once he got over his embarrassment, we had another great conversation... he is totally positive, has nothing but good things to say about his family (which he casually mentioned he has told about me), is more than willing to laugh at himself when the moment's right (and agreed that there is something about his personality that is very reminiscent of Jack Black, though I can't put my finger on it, and even volunteered a "Jay Leno" description of his prominent chin [I wasn't going to say anything, because really, I'm not one to talk])... all that, plus he made friends with the bartender, and picked up our tab automatically. Nothing makes my eyes turn to hearts faster than a guy who makes friends with everyone around, and then insists on paying! Double swoon.

It was finally (for reals) time for the movie, and we went over and watched it, a little tipsy, holding hands and laughing hysterically together, which is always a good way to bond with someone. (Its a REALLY good movie, btw. You all need to go see it if you haven't already.) Then he drove me home, kissed me again, and said he'd call me tomorrow.

So everything about him (pretty much) is right.... why is it that I just don't feel all that excited about him?

This is an A. and B. conversation, so C. your way out of it.

I had an interesting conversation at work today on the topic of "who pays."

In my opinion, whoever asks for the date pays. If a guy asks me to go out, I think he should pay for the date. If I ask a guy on a date, then I'll pay (or offer to pay) for the date.

Now the way that I get around that (because of course there's a way.... I am a girl you know) is that I don't usually ask a guy on a date. I have gotten really good at making guys think that they are the ones that wanted to go out in the first place. But rules are rules, and if I do actually do the asking I will for sure assume I'm going to pay.

The other thing is that if I want to be really charming, even on the first date, I'll start moving towards my wallet when the check comes. That way, the guy will see that I'm going towards money to pitch in, and will almost inevitably be totally impressed that I am willing to pay/say "Oh no way, don't worry about it!" This definitely scores me some points in the way of being an awesome girl and not a gold-digging moochface. Plus he scores some points by not letting me pitch in (usually...).

The second date usually goes as the first does. This is kind of a crossroads for the budding relationship on many levels; obviously a second date meant I liked him (and he liked me) enough to want to see each other again. On the subject of who pays, if he again pays for this date, chances are he's either A. a keeper or B. has more money than most of the guys his age. If he lets me pay this time, I will either A. not mind because I'm totally digging his chili, or B. be kind of turned off and not see him again. Hopefully it will be option A., as I have a hard time changing my own mind after it makes itself up.

Going dutch (ugh... even the phrase turns me off) is a whole 'nother ball game. It is the world's biggest turn-off to pay for my own meal. I would rather take us both out to dinner, or the movies, or bowling or whatever than have to just pay for myself. If I wanted to pay for myself, I would have gone out by myself. Going dutch to me means that he A. was raised by wolves or B. does not intend to see me again. It most likely means that he isn't expecting to take turns, as in I will pay next time, because he doesn't foresee a next time. In the event that we go dutch, I don't foresee a next time either.

By the third date, I'm more than happy to pay if he'll let me. I don't expect a guy to pay for every meal, show ticket, bucket of popcorn, or pair of rental skates for me for the rest of our relationship. I think that's unrealistic (unless, of course, your name is Holly, Bridget, or Kendra.... you lucky bitches). I am a mostly-modern girl and I do find pleasure in taking someone I like a lot out to dinner. I will, however, never turn down being treated, unless its like a birthday or something.

My friend at work has a different strategy, and its mapped out quite nicely by date number. I hope I get this right (please feel free to correct me if I miss anything).

First Date: She expects him to pay. She doesn't make a move to chip in, but says a big thank you after the check is taken care of.

Second Date: Again, she expects him to pay. But this time, she will ask if he wants some money. Hopefully he doesn't.

Third Date: By the third date, she will offer to chip in, and if he doesn't let her, she'll buy him a drink or something later on.

Fourth Date: By this time she thinks its fair to pick up the tab, and is totally willing to. Although I don't think she's be too upset if he didn't let her, she's happy to pay for this one.

After that, I think its kind of up to the guy to offer to pay, but she'll pick up some too. We both agreed that its a big turn on when a guy pays a lot of the time, but she put it well when she said, "guys our age either can't pay all the time or have rich daddies."

I think that about sums it up.... that's actually a pretty good method. I think I'm gonna try that next time there's a new somebody to try it with. :)

Hot cookie!

So tired…. I went out again last night with Nick D. (my favorite Adam Brody impersonator) He wanted to go dancing, which is of course one of my top three favorite activities of all time (second only to flirting and sleeping) so I was more than happy to go.

The interesting thing, though, was that of all the clubs we could have chosen, he happened to choose the one that just so happened to be hosting gay night last night. And although I am a big fan of the gay boys (many, many of them are my good friends), it was a bit of a surprise that a guy, who I so happened to be on a date with, would want to go dance with a bunch of them.

I couldn’t help myself and had to ask why he would choose this club out of all the choices, and was even more surprised when he had known ahead of time it was gay night. What?? He said that he likes it the best because everyone actually dances, and there aren’t just a bunch of awkward wallflowers nursing their drinks all over the place. And that he likes the energy. And the music.

I guess I can settle with that answer… right? He’s so hot. And he loves to dance. Although his dancing style is sort of… hard to vibe with (doing the robot, the moodwalk, and the worm don’t exactly leave a lot of room for a partner) he’s a lot of fun and always willing to go out.

So we danced into the wee hours of the night, during which he got hit on more than a few times by sexy gay boys, and the girls who “go to gay night to get away from the pressure of going out to meet someone,” (why you hitting on my date then, ladies?) but at the same time was a good reminder of the fact that I was out with a definite Hottie McFly. After working up quite a sweat (him more than myself, since a lowcut tank isn’t quite as hot as layered T’s) we stopped at this awesome 24-hour diner on the way home and shared cheese fries.

I had a really good time. I’m not going to lie. But it did feel more like two friends hanging out than being on a second date with someone I’m really attracted to, physically at least. So I was kind of shocked when we got back to my house around 3am and he wanted to stay over. Hey, I wasn’t gonna argue! The weird part was when we undressed (down to underwear… don’t get any ideas), got in bed, and got all snuggled up… but somehow our first kiss never came.

Is it just me, or is it kind of bizarre when a good-looking 24 year old guy can sleep within inches of the face of a 23 year old cute girl, wearing nothing but underwear all night, arms and legs wrapped completely around each other, and never kisses her??

Huh.