That’s right, my lame ass is sitting at home on Saturday night studying. I’ve got a lot going on, and a crossroads that seems to be always just a few blocks past wherever I am standing in every direction.
So I’m brain dead from analogies and antonyms and triangles and what have you.
Spent the day taking study breaks to catch up with people via phone and work on stuff I’ve been putting off. Neighbor Jenny dropped by and tasted my bay scallops. We started talking about what I’ve been doing with the internet dating, this after a conversation with my sister about the same thing. It comes out in both that I should not be dating. At least not in this awful creepy business interview style.
People met before the internet, and I’m not saying I’ll never do the internet thing again, but it’s just not for me right now.
It’s soulless to be judged by people based upon two shitty paragraphs and a photo. I’ve never been the girl who just wants to be with someone for the sake of it, and that’s what internet dating feels like, it feels like a quiet desperation.
When I meet the next person I want to spend some quality time with, hopefully I’ll be smart enough to know it. And then the rest can go from there.
It’s time to get back to being as self-involved as I know I can be.
But do not fret I still plan on giving as many dating tips as possible for those of you out there that live for my dating etiquette.
Dating Tip #42 * — Listing sports teams underneath your hobbies does not make that a hobby. Watching other people do shit is not a fucking hobby! Playing sports is a hobby. Coaching sports is a hobby. Sitting on your couch and watching other people do things that you wish you could do doesn’t count as anything other than an effective way to kill time.
I watch Top Chef on Bravo. I do not list Culinary Arts underneath my hobbies since I know that I eat 4-10 PB&J sandwiches a week to avoid cooking at all costs.
*numbers on site do not accurately reflect actual numbers or, really, anything on this plane of existence or any other we can think of. thank you – mgmt.
So it’s that time of year where my entire apartment is covered in long black cat hair. Tallulah has this problem though of getting dreadlocks near her ass because of all the fur falling out faster than I can brush and she can groom. Okay, well in the interest of full discloser, she is a massive cat, and hasn’t been able to lick that far back in years. But these dreadlocks hurt her and maker her even crankier, so she’s has been lucky enough to get the first of many hair cuts. Unfortunately she’s got some bald spots now.
It’ll be fine, she should achieve self-worth from her actions now instead of her looks.
Yeah, she still hates me.
So tonight, now that I’ve finished the studying for the night, I am reviewing old blog posts, old poetry, and shopping for a new digital camera. wew me!
Okay so Date #2 was not nearly as funny but don’t you worry I have an extra special surprise to make up for it.
Date#2 Codename: Highschool Revisited
We met up at a crowded pub I picked near my work with a great happy hour (note to spark: $1.75 lager draft). He looked like the exact sort of boy I would fall for in highschool – tall, 50lbs underweight, glasses, and the only light his skin saw was probably from a computer screen. Ahh….adorable.
But that was where the dorkiness ended. I’m sure your average girl might have considered him a bit dorky, but he was far too normal in my opinion. At no point did he bring up comics, LARPing, PEARL, or anything Whedon related. A bit of a disappointment. He was nice, a total gentleman, and I’m still not sure how I feel about the date aside from it seemed fine.
But don’t worry, because earlier that day Shy Guy emailed me.
Remember that nasty email I sent to him after he blew up my phone? Well after almost two weeks he finally responded.
I’ve included all of those communications below.
Now I will go through my mental state once you read through the communications.
SG: I might have been a lousy date, I was a little drunk and we do have nothing in common. But you were a hell of alot heavier than in your picture. I call that deceptive advertising. I think it could be due to the medications your on for your bi-polar disorder. My advice to you would be to up the dosage. It seems like every girl I date on this site is on some kind of med. Maybe I should go on some meds, so I won’t have to use alcohol to lower my anxiety level. What you saw wasn’t “shyness”, most people would not call me shy. What you saw was anxiety about meeting a total stranger. Maybe I should find a med for that and not use alcohol and the date would have gone better. Just giving you my perspective on what happened in a not so friendly way.
Me: thanks for the feedback.
SG: Sorry about the nasty tone of my letter. You are a nice person. Would you give me another chance? or is it too late for that. I think a second date would go alot better. I just wanted to give you my side of what I was going through. I have never been, and probably never will be comfortable meeting a woman who is a total stranger on a date. My second dates usually go alot better. Surely there is some common ground somewhere between us? I know I might be deluding myself, but I hope you at least consider it. Again I am sorry, hope to hear from ya.
Me: yeah . . .calling me fat was a bad idea then. I will not only never be comfortable around you, but I’m also probably going to buy a voodoo doll in hopes of destroying all your internal organs.
Best of luck to you in all your future dating endeavors.
So yeah. i still get a little upset when reading through that. What upsets is not that I’m “a hell of alot fatter” than my pic. What bothers me is that it bugs me. Not what this freaking dirtshrew thinks of me, but that I was so devastated by being called fat that I didn’t want to ever leave my office. I became convinced that clearly my massive girth would block out the sun, and no one would ever love me.
20 minutes earlier my grades had come in for the semester, 3 A’s bringing my GPA to a 3.97. So I’m smart, I’m funny, I’m published, I have a lot (it’s two fucking words) of friends, and I am fucking nice, even when I shouldn’t be. And the best this guy can come up with is that I’m fat? It takes him two weeks to come with that?
By the way on the site I list my body type as average. the average dress size of women in America is a 12, I am below that by a more than a bit. I am in no way anorexic.
How is it that I can let some dirtshrew take all my self worth over a body type that his gender ascribed and my gender fights miserably to maintain?
How is that of all the numbers that represent me, it is not my IQ, my income, my number of close friends, my grades, or even my best bowling score? It’s my fucking weight that is supposed to represent who I am as a person.
The whole thing makes me want to never date again. I feel like I’m just setting myself up to be judged by morons who normally wouldn’t get the time of day from me. But because I’m single there is no ditch too low to grab a respectable boyfriend out of? Who are they to judge any fucking woman?
There is an obvious reason why some people are still single.
I also really love the fact that my discloser of being bi-polar was used against me. If he thinks he’s the first guy to pull that card when they are upset, he is sadly fucking mistaken. I’m used to defending my moods and actions as that of a person not a disease, and the only reason I disclosed it was because he told me he was a psychologist so I assumed it would be unfair not to tell him. Like dating a republican who’s running for congress without ever mentioning you’re a democratic superdelegate. They aren’t necessarily related but they are definitely in opposition to a certain degree.
Speaking of democrats, anyone else just absolutely falling in love with Ariana Huffington since she switched over to our side? Caught her on Bill Maher a little while ago and then was on her site all afternoon while arguing with insurance companies.
So lesson learned this week: Ugh, I think it’s not to listen to boys. And to find a man who will love me if I’m a size 22 with a mullet.
This is on campus. There is not a yellow brick anything anywhere near it for at least a mile. But it’s cute, and it reminds me that I’m officially a a senior.
I have received 9 phone calls and one email from Saturdays freakshow.
Below is his email and mine. (italics are my comments to his email).
Him
I had a nice time hanging out with you yesterday. You seem like a very nice girl. I am a little shy on first dates, once I get to know a person better and get more comfortable I open up more. I got a little “buzzed”, I think I had one too many jack daniels.Well you only had two, so the proper thing in the future might to be not doing shots of JD on afternoon dates
So I really don’t how good of an impression I made. yeah, not a good one
I feel kind of bad that you paid the tab. I hope I can make it up to you and take you out again, and this time I would pay the tab. thanks for clarifying that one buddy
I hope we can do this again, I really am not a shy person. _oh god, build a bridge . . . _
Very few people would view me as shy. _by shy what I actually meant was boring. Mind-numbingly boring _
But you seemed extremely nice I’ll show you nice
and I would like the opportunity to take you out again. you didn’t take me out the last time!
You can message me or I will call you in a few days.
Me
Even if that wasn’t one of the worst dates I’ve ever had in my entire life, the repeated phone calls this week would have had me running for the hills.
Call once, leave a voicemail, people will respond if interested.
If it makes you feel better, I don’t really think we had a single thing in common, so this was inevitable.
Do not call again.
Don’t worry about the check, I would have gladly paid twice as much to end the date.
Wow, really? that is fucked up.
what is wrong with me that I just said that to someone. I am a horrible horrible bitch.
So I think I’ve been threatening to go on internet dates and blog about it for your amusement and mine too.
Well I had my first one, and it’s still up in the air as to whether or not there will be second one.
So let’s lay out the syllabus of this experiment. I joined a free online dating site. I will try to have regular dates (preferably Saturday afternoons) and then review them here. I will do my best to review the date, and not the person but often the faults are inextricably linked.
The rubric will be a series of toads. 1 toad is a good date, 5 toads is an awful date (there is a 0 toad date but I believe that would involve simultaneously dating Dave Nevarro and Eddie Izzard).
Date 1 — 4/26 — Codename: Shy Guy?
This guy called me a few hours before the decided meet up. The conversation went as follows:
m. “Hello?”
sg. ““Katie?”
m. “. . . [Shy Guy’s name]?”
sg. “yeah.”
m. “my name’s tricia.”
edited out boring portion of brief conversation about time and place
sg. “I could have sworn you told me your name was Katie.”
m. “ . . . “
So I decided a long time ago that I wouldn’t wear outfits on first dates that were out of my normal spectrum. I still try to look nice, but it’s false advertising for me to show up in a dress or high heels. So I picked a classic me outfit:
added my extra cautious hairsticks. they are handcrafted iron sticks, with extremely pointy ends. They are beautiful but do double as weapons (do not attempt at home):
So I set off, with my ipod playing the greatest hits to boost my flagging self esteem.
This guys picture led me to believe he would look like an older John Mayer. This was not the case. I have no words for an actual description, except to say he was wearing a shirt unbuttoned too far and a gold watch so large flavor flav would have downsized.
He was quiet. So quiet that I thought that it was obvious there was no chemistry/connection. I asked him questions, he answered. He said I was pretty and talkative, which he expected because I was a woman.
Dating Tip#1 Misogynist comments are a bad thing on a first date.
He asked me four questions through out the entire date:
1) Did he look like his picture?
2) How was this date going?
3) What did I think of him?
4) Would I ever see him again?
Dating Tip #2 Do I even need to enumerate why these questions are awful? Don’t analyze the date during the date. You are forcing the other party to lie.
He didn’t read books. He said his hobbies included working out and dating. If I was half as bad at anyone of my hobbies as he was at dating I would have crashed my motorcycle or lost an arm in a tragic knitting accident.
He had two massive shots of Jack Daniels while I was sipping on a nice pale ale. He was visible trashed by the end of the 2 hours date. He was grabby. When he asked me about what I thought of him I said that I thought he was nice but shy. He started to freak out a bit, that women always say that about him. He hates being shy. I then spent the time trying to move on to a new subject, he kept bringing it back up.
He had another date planned for that night. Yeah . . . do I need to put a dating tip up for that one? I didn’t think so.
I asked for the check because I was meeting up with my sisters for a night of s’mores and movies in jersey. The check came and it was $31. I threw $20 to cover half with a decent tip, thinking he could throw a $20 on we’d get out of there (even though his shots of jack cost far fucking more then my draft beer). He ignored the bill. I waited. He ignored the bill. I waited. He ignored the bill, I grabbed my $20 back, threw my credit card in it. He did nothing. I paid for the whole bill. Once again, should this really be a tip?
I basically had to put him in a cab, because he seemed perfectly aimless and inebriated. That’s right, he took the first cab. Not so much with the gentlemanliness (<— actual word).
And then when hugging him goodbye, I reiterated that I didn’t know whether or not we should og out again. I need time to process things. He took this as an opportunity to lean in for a kiss. I presented the cheek. He adjusted and planted one right on my lips and then slipped me the tongue.
yeah that was awkward.
Analysis
Epic failure.
The working out comment plus the jack daniels told me he was likely compensating for being hung like a dirt shrew. His lack of effort in talking about things that I was interested in, showed that he was mostly there to stare at my tits.
5 out of 5 toads
Post Game
I went home, and had the first manic freak out I’ve had in a long time.
I put on tremendous brunettes and started throwing stuff around the apartment and screaming the lyrics.
For posterities sake, here’s what that looks like:
(love macbook built in camera).
So my little sis Samantha got to see me manic for the first time in her life and found out about the bipolar disorder.
She found out way more this weekend then I think we ever anticipated on telling her. Plus she heard the F word more times then probably in her entire life combined.
As for me, I wonder if dating for any reason is the right thing for me. I love being single. and yes, I wish there was a beautiful intellectual out there that would spend the afternoon discussing Stephen Dunn’s poetry and just as easily go see the new Zombie Stripper movie at the Ritz. But that guy’s probably with someone phenomenal and I’m better off alone than with someone out of some hormonal and emotional desire to be understood and loved.
So we’ll see if I repeat this experiment. But If I do, you’ll be the first to hear about it.
