Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Where it's at

I've developed a new theory. I think Silver Spring (a DC suburb for those non-Washingtonians) contains an abnormally high percentage of bold single men. Most of the men my friends have met and dated recently live in Silver Spring. NotCharlotte flirted with dating a craigslister from Silver Spring. NotCurly danced into the heart of a Silver Spring boy while partying at the Black Cat.

My own Silver Spring experience seems to confirm this theory. A couple of weeks ago I had a long meeting in Silver Spring and decided to walk up to the Avenue shops and grab something different for lunch (different from my usual McPherson Square environment). Anyway, I wandered around looking at my options and finally decided on Chick-fil-a. All of a sudden this guy walks up to me and is like, "Excuse me. I saw you walking down Georgia Avenue [ this time I thought he was going to tell me my skirt was ripped or something] and was so amazed that I had to make the block and come find you." Personally, I seriously question his vision. It was really hot that day, and I was (in my opinion) a hot mess. Anyway, he said he just had to give me his card and that he would like to take me out to dinner. I think I was shocked. I can't remember exactly what all sputtered out of my mouth, but I do know the entire interaction was no more than a couple of minutes. I thanked him and said I would email him that night, explaining that I'm an "email" person. You could tell he didn't believe for a second I would email him.

Ya'll don't know me that well, but I'm not big on meeting strangers. First impressions are hard for me and bonding with people upon first meeting them is difficult. I'm more a third impression kind of girl. That said, he was attractive enough and also seemed this was something he didn't do all the time. I found that a bit endearing. Plus, his business card indicated he did film stuff (director and editor). I figure this gave us at least had one thing in common. So, I did what any e-savvy girl would do and googled him when I got home (and also looked at his website). What I saw intrigued me, and I appreciated his moxy. I decided to email, and after jumping through some scheduling loopholes, I have a date scheduled for this Friday with NotMoxy. I'll keep you posted. :-)

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

May December

I stared at my computer screen for at least a minute, trying to make sense of the image in front of me. A picture of the newly married husband and wife. Three days later and no sense has been made. I still can't even wrap my mind around it. I think I've told anyone I can, just to share the craziness and everyone has the same reaction: "EW!"

That's what you say when you hear a girl two years younger than you married your college professor who is at least 60.


Now, maybe I'm judging the situation quickly because I haven't talked to her in a few years and haven't talked to him in an even longer time, but one thing I do know is that I am not attracted to men older than my father. The very idea kind of grosses me out.

In the past few days, as I have tried to be okay with this, I have had the following thoughts:

-OK, so maybe he's really sweet and they're in love....but in ten years he'll be 70 when she is 34! and when she is 44 he will be 80!!!! And 40 is the new 30, which makes it even worse. I can't knock the mental image of Anna Nicole Smith (RIP) kissing her decrepid, old husband. NOT HOTT!
-OK, so I'll admit some older men have been attractive to me...but they usually don't look their age and also I am not planning on marrying said man, thus beginning the inevitable "when I am this age, he will be reallllly old."
-How did this tryst begin? How do you say, "You were always a great student. I loved your papers! NOW KISS ME!" or "You're a great teacher....that's always been a fantasy of mine..." EW!
-How do you bring your really old boyfriend when you hang out with your friends? Don't old people go to sleep early? And need to drink Metamucil?

What's the biggest age difference you've had between yourself and a suitor? I think for me it's only been a few years. I kind of gave myself a rule that I wouldn't date anyone older than my brother (who is six years older than me). It just seems weird in my mind otherwise. Not that I would turn down someone amazing, but generally speaking, I am NOT a fan of the May-December romance.


Vegas of the South

My flight had already been delayed five hours when they decided to board us. I was all ready to go, laying my head on the wall by my window seat when I heard the man three rows behind me yell "I'm SIX FOOT SEVEN, there's NO ONE IN THE EXIT ROW. YOU'RE TELLING me I HAVE TO PAY AN EXTRA SIXTY_FIVE DOLLARS TO SIT WHERE MY FEET AREN'T SQUISHED LIKE A FUCKING RAT IN A CAGE?!?"
I sighed and tried to read up on Reese and Jakey. Fifteen minutes after we had all finished boarding, the captain got on the intercom and announced that yes, we had boarded the plane, but unfortunately, we were not taking off for at least another hour. Giant-man sighed extra loudly and we all kind of jostled around in our seats, drinking "free" water and watching Nim's Island. After two more hours of sitting on the plane, we de-boarded, back through one of the gates at the Orlando International Airport, to wait for new, "fresh" flight attendants to fly in from DC and come back with us to our home.
We had about an hour to go, left to fend for ourselves in a near-empty airport, considering it was nearing midnight. I spent my time eating ritz crackers and huddling by a plug, letting my blackberry charge while I complained to my friends and family about how shitty this situation was.
We finally boarded the plane again and somehow this man had not only found two more men, but he had also found himself a lovely seat, in the exit row... right in front of my seat.
Now this wouldn't bother me in normal circumstances, I mean hey I've gotten a free upgrade plenty of times, but I digress.
What bothered me was that he and his dos amigos were drunk. And I'm not talking "woohoo tipsy," I'm talking "OK we're off the plane, let's down as much booze as possible."
These men were in their mid-40s and as I sat there, watching them knock heads and not so subtly hitting on the flight attendants, I started to feel bad for them.
Drunk men have no sense of right or wrong, they simply say what they feel and do what they want, damned if anyone tries to stop them. I looked at them and thought of the many guys I've hung out with when they were in that state of inebriation. And how stupid they were. And how awesome I thought that was. These men sitting in front of me, pouring their drinks all over their chair, the floor, my outstretched legs, these men are the guys I used to hang out with, all "grown up" and I was embarrassed for them! They stood, in turn, and tried to head for the bathroom, instead knocking into the rows next to them, behind them, in front of them, all at once grabbing their temples and poor peoples' armrests, trying to make the floor stop moving.
It was sad and amusing all at the same time.
Amusing because, twenty minutes before landing, they had finally finished their venti cups of rum and pepsi and everything started to hit. They couldn't keep their heads upright, one of them kept muttering "where the fuck is Tyson's?" and they had just finished the "i love you, man!" stage, therefore resulting in their unwillingness to make eye contact with each other.
It was lovely.

I hope they all made it home safely, I didn't want anything bad to happen to them, it just made me reflect on the amount of times I had been around people like that. It made me realize that I, for one, was done hanging out with guys like that.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Just Don't Call It Spooning

It's amazing how quickly a person can get used to sleeping in the same bed as someone else. And by "get used to" I mean "want it all the time".

Saturday, July 12, 2008

A Lemming? Who me?

Once again, I've decided to try out online dating services (is it really a service if you don't work with someone?), in order to get a date. Given that I've signed up for OKCupid, (again) and AdultFriendFinder (again) and haven't heard a peep is sort of discouraging.

OKCupid is the latest and greatest and while I've gotten little to no response to my profile I have been stalked a few times (which is equal parts encouraging and disturbing), I've yet to have someone actually send me a note (or comment, or whatever the hell you get). I'm not going to question my profile, survey or pictures that I have posted, but I'm starting to wonder about my age group and dating. What I mean is:

Have we gotten lazy about the prospect of finding a date?

For example, I've heard of people finding "the One" when they've finally decided to stop looking. Could that be what's happened? Did I miss the boat on the whole movement to officially 'not look' for my person? Not to say that I've been hitting the dating pool every chance I get, but should I even try? In the most lemming of thoughts, because no one else is doing it sounds like a good out right now.

Wednesday, July 09, 2008


Please excuse our mess. The person who designed our blog four years ago didn't get proper permission from the artist to use the lovely images you're used to seeing a the top. We'll be a bit naked but promise to come back with a new and exciting (*cough*) legal design!

Saturday, July 05, 2008


So I last left you guys with the story of NotGreeny telling me how he'd stop smoking for me. This was back in January, where I think my need for cuddly heat was in higher demand than my need to have a respectable sense of mind, so I believed him. We hung out a few more times and when he asked me to hang out with him on Valentine's Day, I hesitantly said yes. Hesitantly because in my mind, V-Day is kind of a big deal, seeing as how most American's find that the perfect day to give chocolates, cards, and sex.
No, we had not had sex. Nor did I want to have sex with him. I mean, if the kissing was that bad... I think you know where I'm going with this.
Anyway, he asked me to come over around 8 and I had also been invited to an Indie Singles Party at my friend NotMexican's house, which I was going to attend with my best boo NotRVA, so I had a good excuse to leave early, if the situation got to that point.
I arrive at his house promptly at 8, only to find myself calling his cell phone, which seemed to be disconnected. I had never been to his house before, so I had no idea if I was at the right house when all of a sudden he shows up at his front door, on his phone. Weird.
So we go inside and I give him a hug (he did give good hugs, definite bonus) and then we head downstairs to his basement/den/tv room setup.
I'm telling you, if I could have been in a relationship with his den, I would be a happy, happy woman. It was done cabin-style, with wood paneling that made me feel like I was in Denver, not some 70s movie. He had a projection screen set up with a comfy couch and to the right was a raised platform with a huge hot tub filled with pillows.
I was so distracted by the awesomeness that was my future den-bf that I didn't notice the array of goodies that NotGreeny had gotten me. Sitting on a little side table, in careful array, were the following items:
- 1 bouquet of multi colored tulips
- 1 magazine, featuring robots
- 1 gigantic box of chocolates
- 1 mini pack of homemade sushi
My heart sort of melted and I awkwardly said thank you and I sat on the edge of his couch while he set up a movie. He decided we'd watch "Blow," which I had never seen before. No more than 10 minutes into the movie, he decides to attack my face, full force. I kind of go with it for a few minutes, but as soon as he starts kneading one of my breasts like pizza dough, I tell him that I really want to watch the movie.
This happens two more times before I realize, oh hey yeah I need to go.
I grab the flowers and chocolate and bolt. I'm halfway to NotRVA when I get a text "hey you forgot your magazine and flowers, lolz." I ignore it and have a halfway decent time waxing poetic with people in a room holding too many pairs of leggings and just about the same number of neck scarves.
What happens next is when I start to get worried. A few days later I see that his Facebook page has a bit of activity. As in, he has changed his status to "In A Relationship." Surely, he's found someone else? I confront him about this and he goes "Yeah, well you know I wanted you to know that I wasn't interested in anyone else, that I just want to be with you."
I was at a loss for words. So I didn't respond right away. He continues, "So yeah you want me to "add" you?" I told him absolutely not and, in fact, I thought we were better suited as friends. This did not go over well and he proceeded to "ignore" me for the next week and instead show his emotions through Myspace bulletin posts and FB status changes.
Oh, for the love of technologically advanced Millenials.
A few weeks go by and we text a little bit here and there.
April came around and, since he's a graphic designer, I asked him if he would like to design the opening production credit for our budding movie company. He was more than stoked and so was I. I had seen some of his stuff and knew that he could handle what I had in mind.
Until he started talking payment. Keep in mind that the last time I had seen him was VALENTINE'S DAY.
"So when I'm finished, I'll take you out to dinner and then we can hang out at my place and watch movies. Then we'll go up to Great Falls and hang out and it'll be wonderful."
I then realized that the friendship thing probably wasn't going to work out. I was going to have to weigh anchor and let this poor boy sail on without any of NotCharlotte's "good graces" to help him along.
I didn't know what to do in order to get him off my back, so I consulted one of my best guy friends, NotItaliano. He suggested that I tell him I've met someone else. There's no denying the fact that telling NotGreeny I had started dating someone else would show him that I was no longer interested in him.
I decided to tell him this over IM. Our conversation went like this:
Me: NotGreeny, I have to tell you that I've met someone else.
Him: What?
Me: I'm sorry, but I told you awhile ago that we were just going to be friends and I can't have you thinking that we're something more.
Him: I can't handle this right now, I'm going to GameStop.

And that, my friends, is how my fauxlationship went with NotGreeny.