The World's Gone Crazy

Ok, so after my last few posts about the crazy dates I've been on, my new crush Mike told me about some of his. I figured that there were some socially retarded women in the world, I just didn't realize HOW backwards they could be. So ladies, read these 1st hand accounts of bad dates and heed the warnings:

Date number 1- Mike, being a good all around guy wanting to be impressive but not over the top on a first date, suggests meeting at Outback Steakhouse. Mid price chain, good fun and great beer, a laid back and fun atmosphere that doesn't scream "I expect a lil sumpin sumpin after I pay the check". The girl counters with KRYSTAL. If you don't have a Krystal where you live, it's a wannabe White Castle. Don't get me wrong, I love me some Krystals and fries, but at 3 in the morning to soak up all the gin I've had to drink all that night. They have a great breakfast but c'mon, they don't even have a playplace for the kids. So, Mike thinks she's crazy but hey, a dinner check of around 9 bucks vs 40 bucks is a no brainer. They meet at Krystal and while ordering, his date ASKS FOR AN APPLICATION. Seriously. She is multi tasking at it's finest, dating and job hunting. After they take their tiny squares of soggy goodness on their plastic trays to a table, ol' girl whips out a pen and fills in the application. She then turns it in and actually agrees to an interview on the spot. The manager comes out, sits down next to Mike and interviews his date, and then offers her a job-he turns to Mike and offers him a job as well. Mike declined since his IT job was enough for him to not have to moonlight wearing a hairnet.

Date number 2- Mike meets this girl at a Chinese place. In her ad, she says she's 135 pounds and attractive. In reality she's twice that and in dire need of dental work. Mike swallows hard, puts his sunglasses on (which he will keep on for the duration of the date, so she doesn't notice him looking everywhere BUT at her) and the go inside. His date was apparently laboring under the misconception that she was a guest on a talk show and began to discuss at length about her experiences with men and how they have hurt her so badly, she doesn't know how she'll ever trust again. She begins to question Mike's intentions about how the evening will end and why he would want to buy her dinner unless he expects her physical affection, because he's just like all the other guys. She excuses herself to go to the ladies room, which gave Mike an excuse to go pay the check for the both of them and then leave. She wore him down, he couldn't handle the misery anymore.

So ladies, if a guy is paying for your dinner and wants to go somewhere halfway nice-let him. If you have unresolved issues with your ex husband, daddy, boss, mother or lawn guy-keep them to yourself. You might actually get asked for date number 2.

Heads Up Boys

Since I've been out more than a few times over the last months, and experienced quite a few different kissing styles, I thought it may be time to put together a primer of sorts on how women like to be kissed:

KISSING MISTAKES

The following is a list of kisses you should avoid:

The Lizard: Your tongue darts in and out of her mouth like a reptile probing for its next victim. (This by FAR is the one that squicks me out the most.)

The Roto Rooter: Your tongue ventures so far down her throat that it actually begins to choke her. (Soft tongue is great, gasping to keep myself alive is not.)

The Swordfish: You operate your tongue much like a swordfish, and use your nose in a blunt and violent manner. (I bruise easily, so I appreciate not being beaten up while making out.)

The Deep Sea Diver: You rarely come up for air. (There's something to be said for intermittent kisses.)

Frozen in Time: You never change the position, posture, or angle of your head. (Kissing is an ACTIVITY, and the activity is not playing freeze tag with your head.)

Matching Accessories

I spent New Years day alone. I stayed in New Years Eve and never even turned the tv on-I had a quiet night of conversation ending in a warm hug and smiles on my face all the way upstairs to my bed. It was the first time I've spent the night completely alone in the new house and I was surprisingly comfortable. Comfortable with the silence, comfortable with the big bed to myself and comfortable with the solitude.

I spent quite a bit of time thinking on the past year-isn't that what the New Years hype is all about? Reflecting on the past and planning for the future. One thing that happened this year is a shift in my thinking about men and relationships. In the past, a man was my total "outfit". Hopefully he fit well without too much altering, the shade was one that enhanced my complexion and he was quality-he could withstand being tossed on the floor when I was done, flung in the washing machine with a bunch of others when I was cleaning house and me squeezing into him when I was in full blown PMS bloating.

Now, with a new career launching, a new home being decorated and new friendships being formed, I've begun looking at a man as a handbag. He should be an accessory - not the outfit. The outfit is the kids, the job, family, friends, home-he is there and is an integral part of what I'm wearing. I need him to add that final touch to make my couture complete. But he's not the whole style-that comes from me.

Letting Go

Everyone has one. That person that always seems to be hanging around the edge of all your thoughts. Not quite the one that got away, because you never truly had them. There were conversations, whispered confidences, soft giggles in the deep of the night when you thought "this is the beginning of something big". But. And there's always a but. They just couldn't quite make that leap from Good Buddy to Significant Other. They could already belong to someone else. Or they're nursing wounds from a past that you can't heal. For an adrenalin addict the roller coaster highs and lows are thrilling, nights of "He loves me, He loves me not" can be very entertaining when you're otherwise lonely.

Eventually, it stales. You might get angry with a "How DARE they not want ME?" or you just may drift along with a laissez faire attitude while they fade to black. You may vasillate between the two. The important thing is, you finally realize that it IS your precious time that has been wasted, for whatever reason. And you don't want to waste any more.

Thursday August 2, 2007 - 04:44pm (EDT)

This One Goes Out to the One I Love

A simple problem, to occupy my time...

That's what's playing on the stereo right now-it's a totally sluggish day at Casa Alley. We're moving slowly in order to maximize our energy for tonight's frivolity. Yesterday was kinda relaxing too, after Alley picked me up from the airport and dropped me off at her place, I just laid around and chilled with the kids. We really didn't kick it into high gear until around 10ish when a text message reminded us what time it was-we buzzed back to her place and threw on different shirts, brushed our hair and headed into downtown Indy.

Can I just say this? I fucking LOVE Indy. We started our night at the Slippery Noodle where we were treated to some great blues and drunken stripping by a hot guy. Our 3some became a 4some and we headed down the road to Ike and Jonesy's. I love that place-and I can't wait to go back. The music was great, the eye candy hanging with us was super cool and the floor show of drunken women being hit on by sleazy guys was pretty entertaining.

Alley and her half of the group bugged out a little earlier than I was ready, so I hung around till 5, having some fantastic conversation (ahem) and finally pushing him out of the car so we could both go home and get some sleep lol

I got "home" around 5:45 and fell into bed just as the sun was coming up.
Oy-I'm old, but I'm totally doin it all again tonight!


Saturday June 23, 2007 - 02:07pm (EDT)

Sigh

"She was," he proclaimed, "so extraordinarily beautiful that I nearly laughed out loud. She... [was] famine, fire, destruction and plague...the only true begetter. Her breasts were apocalyptic, they would topple empires before they withered...her body was a miracle of construction...She was unquestionably gorgeous. She was lavish. She was a dark, unyielding largesse. She was, in short, too bloody much...Those huge green blue eyes...had an odd glint...Aeons passed, civilizations came and went while these cosmic headlights examined my flawed personality. Every pockmark on my face became a crater of the moon."

True Dat

My friend Becky turned me on to Heather Headley-this girl is almost scary, it seems like she's looked right inside my heart and sings what she sees. Check these lyrics out:

They say if you love something, you've got to let it go.
And if it comes back, then it means so much more.
But if it never does, at least you will know,That it was something you had to go through to grow.

Now I'm sure some people reading this blog will see this and think it's about them. Maybe they're right, maybe they're off base-guess it depends on who reads it.

Lovesick

So. I'm in my office on Sunday afternoon, getting some paperwork done and listening to This American Life on NPR. This is one of my favorite Sunday rituals, quietly drinking a cup of coffee and hearing in depth stories on different themes every week.

Today's program is themed on taped messages that were meant for one person, and one person only, to hear. As I've filed leases, entered things for reports I have to run tomorrow and surfed the internet I've laughed at the phone message a mother left for her son while he was away at college and shivered listening to the soldier under an artillery attack in Iraq leaving what he thought might be the last message for his wife and son. Then, I had to stop and listen to the last story.

A man in New York had met a woman in Italy and wanted her to come visit him. His idea was to make a tape for her to hear him as he went about his average day. He began by telling her about his apartment, strumming his bass for her to hear as he walked by-then he went outside and described the busload of Chinese tourists swirling around him on the sidewalk. He whispered into the recorder while he was at rehearsal, sneaking his words under the swelling of the violin, creating such an intimacy that I was slightly embarrassed and felt like a voyeur, looking into this man's heart. At one point he picks up his narrative after he's read her very first letter to him since they parted, and his voice breaks as he tells her how he can't believe he's in love with her already.

This caught me, since when I'm just learning someone I'm intensely interested in the minutae of their life. I want to hear them as they talk to their pets or friends, I want to know how they take their coffee and what the perfect shower temperature is for them. I can sit rapt for up to an hour or so, just hearing them talk about their day at work, bad day or good day makes no difference, I just want to picture them as they were 2 hours earlier. Those things are what make up people, not the outward persona that we show to aquaintances. It's the tiny phrases we utter, the small habits we develop that make us fall in love.

Sunday October 15, 2006 - 02:09pm (EDT)

Burnt

Seriously, what’s up with you men and your love of the chase? Talking with a good friend of mine has really made me ponder this aspect of the male psyche. It takes me a little while to warm up to people. Like everyone else, I’ve got baggage and history and I like to think I’ve learned some lessons along the way. When I meet someone new I resist the urge to jump in headfirst, no matter how fabulous they may seem to be. I don’t start planning holidays in my head or wondering if they’ll like my kids. I just talk, get to know them and see what makes them who they are. I guess that makes me all the more attractive to some certain types of men who view me as a challenge or a conquest, something to be mastered, since I’m not panting for their attention or hinting at some sort of pseudo commitment.

Here’s the problem with that philosophy-once you capture me, then you don’t want me? Once you tease admissions of caring out of me, then well, the fun is gone? There’s no more thrill of the hunt, the stalking of the prey is over. The only problem with that is that while you’ve moved on to the Next Big Thing, I’m confused and wondering what I did that suddenly had you slamming on the brakes and hitting reverse. It’s a game, subconscious or not, and it’s not one I tend to want to play anymore.
Tags: Edit Tags
Wednesday October 18, 2006 - 12:01pm (EDT)

If you wanna know how to woo me..

The Five Love Languages

My primary love language is probably Physical Touch with a secondary love language being Words of Affirmation.

Complete set of results

Physical Touch:
10
Words of Affirmation:
7
Quality Time:
6
Acts of Service:
4
Receiving Gifts:
3

InformationUnhappiness in relationships, according to Dr. Gary Chapman, is often due to the fact that we speak different love languages. Sometimes we don't understand our partner's requirements, or even our own. We all have a "love tank" that needs to be filled in order for us to express love to others, but there are different means by which our tank can be filled, and there are different ways that we can express love to others.
Friday October 6, 2006 - 02:45pm (EDT)