I've Got My Orange Crush

Crush Update.

NotTaylor was off the radar before I was off his location-wise which occurred last week when our paths stopped crossing. It was before that, though, that I got sick of the same ol' conversation we were having. It never moved past the annoying flirting/teasing banter and I think it is more his innability to converse than our lack of compatability past potentially "getting pens" in the supply closet.


I had a minicrush on someone from my weekend job, but it didn't last long, especially after he started dating a coworker. I like to think I could have gotten him had I been around him in time to try. It's probably for the best he started dating someone else because when the idea entered my head, I was already pretty sure it would, at most, be a fling type thing.

Anyone else? FOR THE LOVE OF GOD THERE IS NOT! What is up with the serious lack of potentials out there? I look to fall to be a new start of sorts. With the cooler weather comes my wanting to be outside A LOT more. Maybe I'll run into some new guys at a pumpkin patch or a corn maize or maybe when I'm sitting outside of a coffee shop sipping hot apple cider. Yum!

Make Out Kids

I walked the campus sidewalks with Mr. JT's "Sexyback" playing in my head. Was I strutting to the tune of my glorious pink iPod mini as I headed to class?
No, I was walking in front of Mr. Headphone-pants, blaring his music for all the world to hear. Good thing the song was one of my new favorites, or else I would have gave him the patented "NotCharlotte look."
This song not only bleated the rhythm of my footsteps on the way to my German class, but it also got me thinking. This boy was sounding his mating call. His swagger to the beat of his 60GB stick of gum along with his frat boy style and just from the beach tan made for quite a spectacle. This boy had his own soundtrack!
I slowed down to "check my bag" and then followed along behind him to watch the girls react to this warm-blooded jukebox. Short, skinny blondes adorned with Greek letters paused from the intense studying of their Pink Razrs as he passed. I swear that behind their Christian Diors their eyes dilated, their jaws stopped, mid-Orbit circulation.
What made this boy so appealing? His song, his strut, his popped collar?
Who knows, but even the manlier men were getting out of his way. "Sexyback" turned into some undecipherable jungle beat and he went into the Science & Technology building, after giving his reflection a knowing smile. When the door he slid into closed, the girls continued chewing their gum in waitress style and continued tapping their electronic morse code messages and "like, whatever"-ing their way to Dance class.

And with that, NotCharlotte is ready for her senior year of college. Good Riddance.

Revolutions and evolutions

I feel like I need to be cryptic but dammit if I hate speaking in code. I'm the blunt one, the one most likely to lay all her cards on the table. Maybe I could learn something from a good poker game. Something has to be said for putting on a poker face and keeping some of those cards hidden. Argh! Poker is a game though, and I detest playing games when it comes to affairs of the heart and loins! If you're messing around in sensitive areas, shouldn't we both know what we're getting into? My full house of crushes crumbled, and a reshuffling is in order. I find myself becoming more attached to the King of Hearts. Fuck. I hate getting attached and starting to anticipate things with that giddy, excited feeling.

Sex Is Easy

Ok, let's be honest here. If I wanted to go out tonight and have sex, I could. I think if any of us really wanted to have sex tonight we could. I have some of those nosy friends who, after not seeing them for weeks or even months, will see me and say, "So, seeing anyone?" And the even nosier friends who want to know the extent I went with past guys...like it's any of their business. In a way it's girl-talk and with some I'll go there, but I hate when it gets that "Never Have I Ever" feel to it and all of a sudden what I do with a guy turns into something like a medical history. Where what I have and have not done with certain guys turns into normal and not normal and people try to say what "should" happen. I hate that! Like that recent poll where the majority of women said they sleep with a guy on the 3rd date? OK, the secondary results of that poll were, "NotCarrie is a prude." Whatever, I don't care. I decided a year or so ago to be way more private with that information** anyway. I don't need to rent out billboards to let the world know what I'm doing.*** I'm not in college anymore where I'm playing drinking games and pretending like I have in fact done some crazy sex-act outdoors involving watermelon and in December (Drink if you have!). If I do end up doing that (weird), I'm going to keep it to myself. (OK, maybe I'll tell you guys.)

But info on me isn't what we want on a Friday afternoon, is it? We want salaciousness. We want stories. We want to come back to work on Monday with stuff to talk about on gmail all day. I'm all over the place with this post today and the real reason I started it like I did is because of this chick who is all over the internet right now. Am I really supposed to believe she can't get laid? I find this ridiculous. I can easily count a handful of male friends who I could call up to have sex with me and I am confident at least 3 would and the other 2 wouldn't only because they might have girlfriends. I could go to a bar tonight and say to someone, "let's go bone" and it may take a few tries, but I'm sure I could find one. Hell, put an ad on Craigslist and you'll get responses within the hour.

Now, of course, this isn't the kind of sex people are looking for it. If it was, we'd all just be out slapping nasties all the time. The majority of us want the relationship, too. And no STDs. We want to to be attracted to someone and have the feeling be mutual. We want a lot more than sex. Sex is easy.


*A slight exaggeration.
**Said like Cami on LB.
**Haha, makes me laugh since I am, in fact, NotCarrie.

Dyeing to get laid...

Obviously, I need to dye to get laid around here.

I mean seriously. I need to dye...hair dye that is. Today, one of my friends from work, NotaNympho, told me about this new study which declares that redheads have more sex. When I think about my less than red hued locks it leaves a bit to be desired. Of course, as I thought about the previous post of deal breakers, and the one before that on dining out, I realized that I had succeeded in frustrating myself sexually. Which tends to make me wonder what I would do for some sex. Not scary go out and stand on a street corner type of looking, but for the sake of making myself more appealing, what would I do. I've got shoes I could wear and clothing I could put on, but maybe its the hair. I mean with red hair, even if a guy suspected it was dyed, he would at least have to see if the carpet matches the drapes, right? And then he could just "dine" and I could recline. Mission accomplished, O's are reached and for the moment, all is right with my world.

And After Dinner...dessert!!!

Okay, I can't even begin to follow up a post like the one from NotMiranda, so I'm not going to try.

However, the question she asked got me to thinking about where we draw the line in our quest to meet that certain someone. What are the dealbreakers? I mean choosing to dine below the equator or not is one thing, but what about the others. For example, typically, for me body hair is a deal breaker, and we all know my thing about kids...So in the spirit of what you can accept and what you can't accept and what you flat out won't even touch, what breaks the dating deal for you?

Where do you prefer to dine?

I was talking to a friend this weekend, and in the course of the conversation, he mentioned the fact that he didn't like going down on a woman. The few times he chose to explore those depths he found distasteful and himself on the verge of gagging. The problem is that he has found himself confronted with women who see this as an ultimatum...be willing to go down on me or hit the road. The thing is I totally get his issue with it. Hell, the idea of doing that makes me* shudder so why should he think it any more pleasant. Granted, I've never** had a guy go down on me, so maybe I don't know what seven wonders of the world I'm missing. I just feel like there are plenty of ways to satisfy me other than that. My opinion aside, I'm really curious to hear from all of you. Is a guy's willingness to do the dive a make or break for you?


*Strictly dickly my dears.
**A old friend really wanted to, but I just couldn't bear to let him. I started laughing.

Overdue

Went to a work barbeque this afternoon. NotElvis was there and I wanted to JUMP his BONES. My god, he looked good.
But did i?
no.
Did he leave early without me talking to him that much?
Yes.
Do i think that one of my other coworkers has a crush on him?
Yes.
Do i need to make a move on him soon?
Uh, yeah.

What did i do instead?
Came home, started drinking and decide to blog about it instead.

I'm so pathetic!

Quality Vs. Quantity

I know that I'm young and shouldn't feel this way and I'm never going to "meet anyone" with this attitude, but my time feels valuable and I often don't want to waste it doing things I don't want to do. Or with people I don't want to be with. Sometimes I think about how I am so not a dater and wonder why and think that maybe I should try to change that. Then, it's a Friday afternoon like today and the only way I want to spend my evening is doing specific things with specific people. I guess a better way to phrase that is that I don't want to just do anything with anyone.

I sound like such a bitch. I'm not! Really! In roughly a week I am going to be insanely busy and I guess I'm already in the mindset of quality over quantity. I don't really want to just go out to a bar where the conversation is of the small variety with strangers when I could spend that same time with close friends even if our activies seem boring to others.

OK, but really, back to the "never going to meet anyone with that attitude"...I think that's crap and I just wanted to take the moment to reiterate that a person can meet "The One" anywhere.

The Game is Afoot...

Tonight, without further ado I began my recon of NotSoccer.

So far I have learned the following:

He likes working with women.
He likes blondes (which I am not, nor will I ever be).
He likes rock music and my music taste (or lack thereof) needs work.
He will send me an email. In part because I gave him said email addy so that he could send me a list of cds that he thinks are the must haves of any collection.

This was a pretty easy task tonight. I just happened to walk into the shipping area of my part time job and there he was. I realized something else tonight, I haven't even balked at the fact that he's hairy, not one quiver of disgust not one blip about having him shave or anything...just me and NotSoccer and a lot of laughing over my music choices. Now all I need to do is get someone to mention his girlfriend so I can find out how that part is working.

Date Lab

A social experiment?? Sign me up! The Washington Post's Date Lab has me incredibly intrigued. Maybe it's the thought of being interviewed for the paper that got me, but I want to participate in this. It appears to be an effort by the paper to pair two single strangers and pay for their date in exchange for their thoughts on the evening to be printed later on. Normally, the idea of a publicized blind date would be terrifying to me, but I think the brief fame it would bring, in addition to the free meal, would make it worth it.

The only requirements are that you must live in the Washington, DC area (um, do I count?), be willing to be interviewed and have your picture published, and you must not be a paper employee. Here is the application questionnaire for anyone interested.

Now, since I won't be applying anytime soon since I will be beyond busy in a few weeks (and hey, the blind date idea is still a little scary to me) I'll post my answers here:

Quick-what's the first thing you do when you get up in the morning? Duh, I groan and then reset my alarm. No wait, I throw on my silk robe over top my lingerie and make breakfast.

What's the last book you read? Straight Up & Dirty by Stephanie Klein. Pam cooking spray will never be looked at the same again.

What's the last song you couldn't get out of your head? "Auto Pilot" Queens of the Stone Age

If you could have any superpower, which one would you want? Why? Maybe to be invisible.

What's the first drink you'd order in a bar? Gin and Tonic

In what ways would you say you are very D.C.?Tough question. I'm hot?

In what ways aren't you? EASY- I don't care what people do for a living. I hate small talk.

Most singletons say they want to meet someone funny. But what's your idea of funny? I like someone who is a quick thinker and witty. Someone who catches on quick to what I'm laughing at whether it's a a scene that reminds me of a movie or the conversation we just heard a snippet of. Random humor is essential. You must be able to laugh at everything.

What hobbies/interests/outlooks/passions would you hope to share with your date? I can't imagine it working with someone who didn't have some interest in music. And a non-tv watcher would probably get the boot, too, and I'm not ashamed to say it. It would help if he likes to cook and clean and pick up my drycleaning.

In your world, what features or characteristics would normally rule someone out as a dating possibility? I won't lie, it would be difficult to date someone much shorter than me, but only bc it makes me feel like a giant and not in the "but she's a hott model" way. BO would be a negative, as would someone who chews.

I didn't answer every question for length reasons, but I am impressed with the types of questions asked. I would feel confident that The Post would set me up with someone good...has anyone else tried this?

Crushing on who?

While, NotCarrie and NotMiranda have the crushes aplenty. I contemplate my one lone crush. Although, I'm not sure if I should even call it that.

Ladies and Gents I introduce to you, NotSoccer. NotSoccer, is a coworker I see occasionally, as in maybe two or three times a month. He's soccer obsessed (hence the name) and such a scruffy sweety that I can't help but think he's cute. Then there's the fact that he's such an overwhelming bottom that it makes me want to test out my flogger *ahem*, but more on that later...way later.

Anyway, right now he's the crush that I'm harboring. I don't have plans for him, yet. I've got recon work to do first. Because, unless I'm mistaken he's got a NotSoccerGirlfriend, and I'm all about ho's before bro's so no poaching on my end if he's taken. But as with all crushes in my book, I can still look at the goods and admire from afar, even if I don't plan to touch.

*dons dark glasses and head scarf*

Up Against A Wall

Sometimes a girl has a day (or a week, or maybe even a month?) when she would really just like to be thrown up against a wall and kissed*. Lately, at work, all I have wanted is for someone to interrupt me in the supply closet from getting new pens by slipping in, shutting the door, and well, you know. The other day I even tried to up my chances of this by visiting the supply closet repeatedly throughout the day. Like someone was really going to risk a harassment charge by meeting me in there. I guess the odds of anything happening with a coworker are pretty low because it's just not the right environment. And no matter how much I want it sometimes, I can't let people know that. It would be weird. And inappropriate. But HOT DAMN, how awesome would it be for NotTaylor to see me go into the supply closet and to come meet me.

There's a Happy Hour in the works though which WILL be the appropriate atmosphere for some suggestive flirting. Maybe after that NotTaylor will know it's ok to go "get pens" with me...



*Or a lot more. Pick your level of debauchery.

Chandler Syndrome

My singles love horoscope:

Your sense of humor is well known, but ask yourself this: Is it possible you're using jokes as a defense against feeling anything else? You need to be real in order to find real love. Think about it.


Whoa! Lately I've been wondering if my sometimes flirty nature is hindering and not helping me. I often joke* around with guys, both the ones I'm just friends with, the ones I just want to hook up with, and the ones I'd like to have a relationship with. Am I confusing them all with what could be assumed are mixed signals? I'm not very good at talking about my feelings blah blah blah, but I don't know how else to let someone know what I want than by using actions.

Scenario 1: The Friend- I'm pretty over-the-top with my flirting when it's just a friend and I think they know it. It's not something I do a lot, but it's kinda of like teasing and the banter goes back and forth.

Scenario 2: The In Between Friend And Relationship Person- These situations usually arise at a bar or designated "out" time. It involves shiny lip gloss, low-cut shirts, and intense eyes. There's no mistaking what I want then.

Scenario 3: The Relationship With Person- The toughest one. How does one stay normal, yet make sure they know something else is desired. And at a certain point, I think the flirting is mistaken for humor, but, as I have noticed in the past with myself, I don't want to stop flirting all-together for fear they will assume I am back to just wanting to be friends. I know I should be a big girl and talk about my feelings**, but I'm also the girl who slid under the table at her 4th birthday because she was so shy.

Which brings me back to why I named this post "Chandler Syndrome." I think I have this sometimes, using humor to offset "real" things, just like Chandler Bing on Friends. My horoscope got me thinking that maybe I really do need to just be real when needed. Hmmm...

Easier said than done, though. Maybe I could alter this to my needs and in future situations say, "I'm going to stop flirting with you, but I want you to know I'm still interested."


*joke=flirt=tease=HUMOR
**and blah blah blah

Because You Can't Fuck Paper...

I'd like to go on record and admit that I have daddy issues. Okay, let me clarify. I have issues with my daddy. Thought, I don't call him daddy, that sounds way too juvenile for me. He's Dad...or to be equal with my mom, I should give him a 'Not' name. So he shall henceforth be refered to a NotARepresentativeoftheManIWanttoMarry. Maybe its this book. Maybe its the two glasses of champagne I've had. Hell, maybe its what he did this week. Okay, its all of the above. Regardless; all I know is that right now I think my issues with my father have a lot to do with my opinion of men in general.

Case in point, my father and I were supposed to trip the light fantastic next weekend up to New Yawk...Longiland (that's how he pronounces it), to be even more specific, for a family reunion, with his side of the family. I should I mention that I've never met anyone from this side other than his sister and the random cousin. The original plan was for him to drive up to meet me in NoVa and I was going to do the driving up north, because I didn't relish having my nails gouged into my skin if he did. I won't mention that in the almost three years since I've left Richmond, he has yet to come visit me. Call and berate me and drop the subtle as a sledgehammer hint that I should move back, yes, drive up to see how I'm living, no.

But I digress.

We were supposed to be heading for New York next week. I had changed the plans I had this week so that I could take the next week off for this family reunion. Imagine my surprise when my mother calls me to warn me that this trip was probably cancelled. So I gave it a day and called my dad to give him the opportunity to tell me. What do I get instead, but him firming up his plans for this trip, which included him telling me what directions to look for online and when to expect him at my place. He padded the conversation with slight money woes and needing to get a part for his truck and when I asked him if he would be able to get this part in time he assured me he would, he then changed the topic to a book he wanted and soon ended the conversation.

*raised eyebrow*

The next day when I spoke to my mother about it she tried to smooth the way for him. She assured me that he was embarassed that he wouldn't be able to go now, despite having talked about it for so long (which I understood), and she said she would urge him to tell me under the guise of me maybe wanting to make other plans (which I had already started doing).

For two days he didn't call or send a smoke signal. I stopped planning for this trip and began firming up my other plans. The next time my mother called I asked her if NotARepresentativeoftheManIWanttoMarry had mentioned to her that he was planning to tell me yet. What she said next solidified a few ideas I've had about men and most of my life in general. He wasn't going to let me know that we wouldn't be going until mid week of next week, so thats about two days before the trip was to actually take place. Anger did not begin to describe my feelings, seething, boiling over rage at the inconsideration is a better description.

But still I let it ride. My mother assured me she would get it resolved and get my father to tell all in the next day or two. Which is why on Thursday, when I got tired of waiting for a call that I knew wasn't going to come, and called NotARepresentativeoftheManIWanttoMarry, myself, I wasn't at all shocked by his small and slipped into part of the conversation we were having murmur that he wasn't going to be able to do the trip.

So what does all of this have to do with the title above...well, I've been thinking about the list I have of prerequisites of dating material and I've always thought it was a bit long and people have commented on how demanding it is. And this incident give me more reason to understand why. I have expectations of men that I need met and each time NotARepresentativeoftheManIWanttoMarry, fails in some small way it goes against what I expect from a man who is in my life, and usually ends up as a 'bad bad thing' on my list of things about my perfect mate. I'm independent to the point where I couldn't even think up a gift for the ex to get me because anything I want I can get for myself. I don't worry about men impressing me because I'm so used to them falling short and not being anywhere near what I want so I stop believing that they are. Hence, they could look great on paper, but as Stephanie Klein admits, 'you can't fuck paper.' And sadly, I'm left with more questions than answers as to how I should move beyond this.

I've considered trimming the list, but eveytime I think of something I could maybe do without I come up with a reason that I need to keep it. Sadly enough, I'm stuck with a bunch of ideas, a great man on paper, a NotARepresentativeoftheManIWanttoMarry, and all I have left to show for it is a handful of papercuts.

Can't Touch This

Last night, a bunch of coworkers (from my real job) got together after work to drink some beers and relax after a few weeks of incredibly stressful work. I brought NotHusband along because he had come to our office Christmas Party last year and everyone loved him.
I met up with him at the mall to help a coworker buy some clothes for her adorable niece. I haven't seen him in almost a month because either he was gone or I was... or we were just too tired to do anything together. I see him, go up and we hug, then he drops a bomb on me.
"I have gonorrhea."
It's like a fucking soap opera. He's all serious, the mall music goes dead and a soft, somber violin starts playing in my head. He looks all pitiful and you know what I say?
"DO NOT TOUCH ME!!!!"
I push him away and the more time passes, the more I think about how fucking mad I am at him. I had spoken with him just the other day and he thought he had gotten a UTI from being dehydrated at Habitat for Humanity in PA. Turns out no, he's just a fucking idiot that doesn't practice safe sex.
I went into my tirade. I told him how lucky he was that he got a "curable" disease. He could have gotten HIV, AIDS, SYPHILLIS! I then go "Now, NotHusband, does this mean you'll listen to me a bit more when I TELL you to be more careful?"
"Yeah, I'm going to listen to myself more too."
What the fuck? The only thing he tells himself is how hot he looks and how much he loves sex.
My friendship with him is going down the tubes. It has been for awhile. After this "huge" event, we went to the bar where he proceeded to talk about himself THE ENTIRE TIME. Every time someone else would bring up a subject, he would start talking and turn the subject into how it relates to him. It got so bad that at one point, my coworker turned to me and went "I don't talk that much, do I? If I ever do, just slap me..."
I was so embarassed. I got the check and made sure we left with a bit of dignity intact.
He was supposed to go into DC with me today to visit NotGay, but I told him that I just want to go by myself. I can't handle another "NotHusband Day"

I know it probably sounds like I'm being harsh, but you don't know NotHusband. I have tried, numerous times, to relate to this guy, to listen to him without getting pissy, but when you're having a serious conversation about yourself and he just nods and then goes right into how bad his life/day/year/penis pain is, you reach a point where you just don't want to hang out with him anymore.

Four weeks passed before I saw him again and to be honest, I didn't really miss him that much.

You Can't Go Home Again...pt2

Remember this post. Well its about to blow up in my face in a big big way. The ex-file opened while I wasn't present to slam it shut and now "the Others" are coming to take me away. That's right...the two words that will make any person who has run fast and furiously away from their hometown, scream in horror.

Class Reunion.

*headdesk*

My mother, NotBettyBoop, sweetheart that she is, gave my cell phone number to NotaMidget, my twice removed, ex-boyfriend. Who then proceeded to call me an ask me about pitching in to help plan the 10 year high school reunion. I knew I should have stayed at work late and left my cell phone somewhere far far away from where I can be reached.

So where does this put me. One year away from seeing the people I went to highschool with, but never saw much of as I entered college. And the same people I didn't seek out after, and who I have no plans on keeping in contact with after this.

*sigh*

I feel so defeated right now...defeated and bitchy, because I can't even dredge up some bit of happiness at returning home to my high school days and the peopl who helped shape me, or at least served as a reminder that I never wanted to be like them. Its in fashion right now to hate your high school years, right? So I'll chalk this up as being fashionable and hope this trend stays popular for at least the next year.