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Archive for December, 2009

How did I NOT freeze my bits off? Was it because they were numb from the pain of hot wax and the yanking of hair? Today was the coldest day of the winter thus far, not the type of day I like to be out walking around while running errands. Ending it by stripping down and being humiliated by hot wax and gloved hands as my waxer begs me to bring in the hottie for her to meet, isn’t exactly a highlight either. Just how am I supposed to do that? Hey McHottie, while I was getting the hair yanked off my girly bits, I happened to mention to my waxer that you are one of the most beautiful men I have ever known and now she wants to meet you? Probably NOT going to happen.

I spoke with him earlier today, via text, the Peruvian I mean. I was in his neighborhood and we chatted about beverages but his schedule was too insane. I told him that he needed to check his mail, as I sent him something that should have arrived.

Just incase you all aren’t fully on the same page, today’s wax was a wishful wax for a Thursday night of feistiness. Are we all still meditating on this for me? I need all the good positive energy you can direct towards me and this cause.

Before my wax I met up with the Asian man (with two dogs) at a local cafe. His energy was a little erratic and brisk. I had been sitting by a window working on my business plan revamp when he arrived and approached me.  When picking up his mocha from the barista station he grasped it to hard and caused the cup to cave in on itself in such a way that it splashed out onto the counter and some of the packaged snack bars beside him. I grabbed a handful of napkins and handed them to him, making an assumption that he would proceed to clean up some of the mess he made. When I saw that he was focused on wiping off his cup only and had begun to walk away from the mess, leaving it for the workers to clean, I grabbed some towels and proceeded to clean it up myself. He did not say thank you. We talked about our dogs, the various medical conditions and treatments that they have all been through, and my business.  The rest of our conversation fades into the abyss. He isn’t remarkable, doesn’t look like his photos and has very little engaging personality. He lacked warmth and on a cold day, I was looking for warmth, not Mr. Frigidaire. Needless to say, there will not be a second date.

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What a long day! I did a bit of work early in the day and then had a coffee date with the Aussie Vegan. Cute but young, with a great accent. We talked for a long time about our individual businesses and how our personal ethos work within our businesses and the world outside. Spark? Nope. However, he is definitely someone I would like to hang out with as friends in the future. Bright kid and I think he has an amazing future ahead of him. We drank coffee for a couple hours and then I walked him to the train station and met up with my artist friend who works around the corner.

I found out tonight that my friend’s coworkers call me his stalker. Amusing, since the last 2 years that I have been coming in, I have been a flag waving lesbian. His colleagues find it funny that I come in and we talk for hours on end. It must be something insidious, right? I did consider him an option, for a moment, in the fall though. Right after I had started thinking about men, prior to my crush and subsequent exploratory trip to the Pac NW, I sent him a Facebook message that somehow never made its way to him. I was asking him out for a drink, which he claims, all men consider a clear and definitive “get busy” kind of signal. I had no idea that all I had to say was, “Hey, wanna have a drink?” and that it could be so powerful. unfortunately, or fortunately, the message never went through and our friendship has stayed happily un-awkward. Besides, if I had been blurring up the picture he would not have met this gorgeous complete package that he fell, “arse over tit” for a few weeks ago. He beams when he talks about her. It’s a beautiful sight! I am so very happy for him. I would have just used him for cheap experimentation and it would have been weird afterward. Instead, now we can have a great friendship in which we have alcoholic beverages and discuss our various antics, and then he can read this blog and laugh heartily, while breathing a sigh of relief.

Speaking of being arse over tit, he is killing me! Does the hottie Peruvian NEVER check his mail? Come on man, New Year’s is now mere days away. I am getting hot hard wax put on places of my body tomorrow that should rationally NEVER see hot hard wax… and then having it pulled off. Mostly for me, because I hate body hair, BUT I could go longer, I do not need to do it now, UNLESS I can spend New Years wrapped around him like a ribbon. Hot girl, heels, brazilian,WILLING … what more do you need man?!!!

Can we all do a collective silent meditative chant this morning asking McHottie Peruvian to check his mail and open the pretty envelope, read the pretty invite and respond to the hot girl who pasted that invite with her own little fingers? Thank you everyone.

This afternoon finds another coffee date after a client meeting, the dog owning Asian gentleman, and then my wax. McHottie’s house is 5 minutes from my waxing appointment. Sigh.

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I wasn’t sure how I was feeling about the coming week. I had made a hair and a waxing appointment in hopes that I would hear from the hottie, but I had no dates in sight. Then, suddenly in the matter of a few hours I have 4 with the potential for another. All afternoon dates, which I find easier because you can escape them if they are going poorly. The Aussie vegan anarchist, an ex reformed Jew with mussed up hair, a dog loving asian gentleman and someone training for a marathon. The 4th potential is the Jewish Dad. I am not actively seeking Jewish men, I just happen to find them adorable and then find out they are Jewish. Is there something wrong with that? On top of all of this, I check my email to find that the hottie Peruvian is no longer possible McDouche, because he emailed to say Hello. Yay. I might just have a New Year’s Eve reason for that wax after all!

I did get my daily astrology.com love tarot and again it was that damn King of Pentacles. I get it, I do. So, present me universe with one thing that is viable and perhaps this blog will change its focus from dating many to dating one. However, until you provide a man who can handle me and be handled by me or a clear path back to women, stop taunting me with the King of Pentacles.

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I had made plans with this one gentleman to get together today for coffee but I woke up unable to do it. I called him to rain check but truth be told, I don’t really even want to. I feel badly though. I feel as if he has put so much effort in with emails that I should just give him the 2 hours. Bad way to go into a date right? Then there is the Jewish dad with the pack of dogs that wants to get together but I am not feeling that either. He’s abrasive and his laugh annoys me. Really annoys me. Sigh. There is a young one I spoke with the other day who is intriguing. I don’t normally reply back to men in their 20’s but he seemed to have already experienced his late 20’s existential dilemma. Plus, he turns 30 today. I promised him a birthday drink when he gets back from California.

Interestingly enough, today, 3 men in their 20’s have contacted me. Currently, I am on Skype with a young Aussie vegan who believes in economic anarchism and has a propensity for stabbing himself accidently every time he gets near a chefs knife.  He sounds cute and has some strong opinions that he is able to stand by and offer back up support on why he feels that way.

Well, he just asked me if I want to meet up tonight for drinks. Hmm, ok, why the hell not. Time to jump in the shower as he will be picking me up in an hour.  Strange how I began this post having canceled a date and ended it running out for one.  I will update you all when I get in this evening.

Or I will update this post, as he phoned me while I was in the shower realizing that he needs to get to bed early tonight for a meeting in the morning. So, we have rescheduled for coffee tomorrow afternoon. Ha, this day.

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Hulu might just be the most terribly boring way to spend a Christmas. In this case, boring is good. No family drama, no expectations, no obsessive niceties, and no regrets of things that should have or could have been said or done. I had planned to get together with the Jewish dad either yesterday or today, however, I suddenly found myself feeling extremely introverted and anti-social. I am also feeling guilty, or at least, my astrology.com daily love tarot reading  is making me feel like an asshole. I have received the same identical reading in my email for weeks. King of Pentacles. Eeek. This is what it says:

 “The King of Pentacles card suggests that when it comes to your relationship or love life, there can be too much of a good thing, particularly if you fall into the trap of showing off. Like an all-you-can-eat buffet, where what you want is quantity, the situation changes or disappears once the want has been sated. But in matters of the heart, do what you believe, which, like a banquet, is all about quality. Tend to what you need, consider those who rely on you for support and practice gratitude. You may find that you are surrounded by a cornucopia of abundance and in a position to share this bounty with others. The more you give, the less you will suffer want in the first place. Get back to basics and make a clean sweep of those things that are cluttering up your love life or distracting you from true commitment and sensual pleasure.”

Ok, so this blog is bad karma? Am I dooming myself because of it? Oh geez, as if I needed ANOTHER existential dilemma in my life. So, in my moments of reflection today, in between my bouts of cursing at my email, I thought about what I have been doing. I have not been going out with anyone I didn’t find genuinely interesting and attractive or potentially attractive. My interest has begun to wain in some of them, when you don’t meet right away, the initial excitement can wear down and it can begin to feel like scheduling a dental appointment. The sites have been quiet, no new members that are peeking my interest at the moment.

The hickie guy was nice, he wants to go out again, but I don’t know, I’m just not really there. I think it was a really fun couple of dates but ultimately I have to ask myself if I find the nightly quest for a gig to watch my idea of fun. I don’t. Plus, he’s cute but the thought of him doesn’t excite me. It should, right? Farmer guy? Really nice and funny and attractive but Jesus Christ man, I can’t wait forever for someone to decide whether they want to make a move. He is reminding me of this artist/musician whom I had a crush on for almost a year when I was 17. I met this guy at a pledge drive for a community radio station I used to volunteer at and thought he was the cutest thing. He had these crazy curls on his head and was covered with potters dust and clay, as he must have just come from his studio to the station. I was friends with him and his then girlfriend for about 6 months and then lost track of them both. One night I ran into him at one of the dance clubs I frequented. We went for a walk and were catching up and then sat down on the tracks behind the club. Eventually, he made the move to kiss me. It was the single worst kiss of my entire life. I honestly mopped my face off after and got up and, if my memory serves me correctly, never spoke to him again. It really was THAT bad. So, you see, now I fear that if farmer were to try to kiss me… it would be like those train tracks. Where else does that leave me? The one I want to go back out with but that is “overwhelmed” with life at the moment. So, I have stayed away all week until a nice short Merry Christmas email today and of course the New Year’s Eve invite he will receive tomorrow. If this was a romantic comedy… he would go out with me again. I am attractive, quirky, intelligent, regretful for being wacky, I know how to kiss and I am all about climbing on top of him and kissing him again. I have not heard back from him regarding the email, however with it being Christmas day, I was not assuming that I would, however I do hope that I hear something by Sunday regarding the invite, once he receives it. I am not looking for some great love from this. I find it difficult to find strong physical connections with anyone so this is my reason for wanting to spend time with him again. It feels good to have the body be so alive after such a long silence. Also, did I mention the smile on that man. Kills me.

So, what am I dealing with here? I guess the same thing as everyone out there, except I am blogging about it. Of course, not everyone has just changed sexual orientations to see what else might be out there. Fundamentally I think we are all dealing with the same dilemmas though. Attraction, expectations, loneliness, fear, excitement, regrets, concerns, what if’s, only if’s, could have been’s… and hope. We all have hope, right?

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Last night I went out for date number 3 with the Urban Farmer or “Produce Giver”. We saw a movie, it was “Fantastic” , but alas…. the movie was the most exciting aspect of this entire evening. Now, there comes a time, social awkwardness or not, that you make a move. IF you are at all interested in a girl, you make a move towards some sort of physical show of appreciation, desire, interest … or even showing signs of LIFE. He’s clever, attractive and interesting but his girl skills are bordering on Charlie Brown meets Stan from South Park. I don’t know if he has an upset stomach or if he’s gonna throw up on me. THIS is without him even seeing me in 4 inch heels, slinky dresses and sporting a brazilian wax. If I intimidate him and make him nervous now, there is no telling what type of serious mental trauma would occur if he were to ever touch me.  At this stage in the game, I must throw the towel and call this one done. 3 dates and you are out. NEXT.  

Meanwhile, the hits keep rolling in. Let’s review the what not to do’s in online matchmaking, shall we?

  1. If you don’t want to appear like a shallow douchebag with an ego and nothing to back it up, do NOT show any photos of you without a shirt, whether they be through your web cam or banked out of the bathroom mirror. It’s gross, you are gross and eww. if you have one photo of you on the beach with pals, OKAY, but no main photos and nothing “sexy”.
  2. DON’T send me an email with the phrases: “Hey Sexy”, “Let’s do this”, “So, I didn’t read your profile, but damn you are hot and I want to get to know you cause it seems we have a lot in common” (like thinking you are a douchebag?), “Hi cutie, I bets I can put a smile on that cute face of yurs”.   Yes, I did just throw up in my mouth a little because that man looked like a mix of back woods Deliverance and coonhound Best in Show.
  3. I am SO glad you love sports. That’s great. Oh really, and your interests are… oh, sex, sports, and oh sex and sports…. next.
  4. Don’t invite me to your house yet, if I suggest coffee (I am a cheap first date), that means public place that is well-lit and surrounded by other people… not your house, which is creepy. IF I decide to bring you coffee and make out with you later, let it be my prerogative.
  5. No, really, my age range of low-mid 30’s to low 40’s is JUST a suggestion. Sure, all you 23, 27, and 51 year olds, please contact me because apparently I do not really know what I want.
  6. Also, if I say slender, average or athletic/toned, this doesn’t mean fatties. Sorry, but it’s my thing. I am a size-ist. I admit it. Years of being fat cultivated a healthy dose of body dysmorphia and I can’t get past my issues with weight enough to date someone more than a little out of shape. This makes me less than a perfect person, I know.
  7. Bringing me to my final point. I am not perfect. I am attractive, witty, clever, sexy, naughty, shy, angry, sweet, endearing, exhausting and so far from perfect. I over think and get insecure sometimes. I take bad advice. I am a horrible house keeper who can’t implement the great design ideas she has, so many people have never stepped foot in my house because it is perpetually in chaos. Don’t be awestruck, or intimidated. I will let you down.

I sent the Peruvian, GD, otherwise known as potentially McDouchey, a handmade invite to hang with me on New Years Eve. There was glue, ribbon, stickers, 3 different colors of cardstock, Photoshop AND InDesign work, and two stamps. He should receive it Saturday. I hope. Will he say yes. I hope. Am I foolish, quite possibly. But damn,the idea of that type of foolishness sure sounds like naughty, naughty  fun.

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This is a message out there to all men and women. You are NOT as you think you are! Some of you are far better than you can even imagine and others, well, you need a mirror and some honesty. When searching for “about average” on any of the internet dating sites, I find bodies that run the gamut, everything from the volleyball players physique (note, if you are a member of a sports team and can bounce and only the obvious bit jiggle, then you are athletic and toned) to the nearly obese man on his right.

Let’s spell this out for everyone: 

Slender= not sporting much muscle definition, not “athletic”. You probably can and do wear skinny jeans. Maybe consider eating more legumes or nuts or a burger if you can and do wear your little sisters jeans. Just sayin’.

Athletic/Toned=I can bounce a quarter and/or myself off your abs or ass or both. This doesn’t mean no neck muscle guy on roids. This is you hike, you bike, you can throw me down and not break a sweat doing it.

Average= you are normal, softish, no real overhang but maybe a bit cooshie. This is fine, this means I might occasionally be able to pin you down or at least feel like I have a chance.

A Few Extra Pounds= just like it says! Do you honestly need to lose a couple? Has beer & pizza begun to win a fight with your belly?

Stocky= you are a thick boy, think lumberjack maybe.

Overweight/Heavy Set= if you could be mistaken for pregnant or santa, then you are NOT average.

I understand that men have egos just as fragile as women, but when hotties refer to themselves as “average”  on the same page as a fattie who can’t see his feet, what is this world coming to?

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