Irregardless!
irregardless and jeans at the symphony — society has obviously hit rock bottomArchive for August, 2007
Where, oh where, does time go?
Oh dear. I managed to blog well for basically a whole week. Unfortunately, that was about the point that “real life” decided to rear its ugly little head and bite me on the arse. Too many cliches in that one sentence? Too bad. It’s still before 9am here and that ought to be too early to be legal.
Anyway, here’s a quick recap:
1) My date went well. Hopefully we’re going to do it again soon. He even brought me a bottle of wine! Geez. I’m trying to keep things moving slowly though as I’d like to (hopefully) meet new people as well and not just throw myself head-first into a relationship.
2) I got my class schedule sorted out. I’m taking this next quarter at Metro so I can take most of my credits online to give me more scheduling flexibility for appointments and work. My boss, apparently, really needs me to be available to fill in for B. (who has stomach cancer and is getting much weaker very quickly) and I’d like to oblige, particularly as having a good deal of copy-editing experience will help my chances of moving away at some point.
3) The Royals lost! Damn it! Yes, I’m a Royals fan — it’s taught me many things about life, like how to lose with quiet dignity and grace (well, except for the minor disappointed outburst). But… but… they’d been on a hot streak all summer! Every time I went to a home game to watch them, they’d won! Then they lost to the Albuquerque Isotopes. It probably didn’t help that I spent some of the game thinking about that Simpsons episode. On the other hand, Justin Huber (I’ve totally had a crush on him for about two years now — it helps that he’s Australian and dreamy) looked cute even if he had a bad night.
4) I’m pretty sure I’m driving out to Colorado next week — specifically, out to Estes Park so I can hike up on Trail Ridge Road. It’s one of those places that managed to get under my skin ages ago, possibly one of my favourite places in the entire world. I really need to get out there soon or wait until next year, as half the trailheads close in mid-October. I just want to take more pictures like this and I promise to update everytime I can find a wireless connection.
More later. I really ought to figure out how this Monday-at-the-office should be structured.
WTF, WordPress?
Okay, so I really hope this entry isn’t going to show up the way it is in the textbox. It’s huge! And I can’t figure out how to fix it and don’t really have time to care. Yes, I could go in and fix the code and I will if I have to, but there’s a reason I use WP’s editor. I’m lazy and I feel like letting technology do my work for me. One day, technology is going to end up killing me so I might as well reap the meager benefits while I can.
Anyway, tonight is D-night. I probably wouldn’t be so terrified if I hadn’t been rethinking all of my dates-from-Hell and reading other people’s stories on Etiquette Hell during my slow moments at work. I really should have figured out that I scare easily by now, but really, I think I like putting myself through this mental agony. It’s the equivalent of slamming into the railing and getting a massive bruise on my hip, then spending the next day or so poking at it just so I can go “owww!”
I realize that I’m always so nervous for a stupid reason. I’ve never quite accepted that it’s okay if we don’t click. That sometimes the chemistry just isn’t there. Part of it is that I’m picky about who I date in the first place. I’ve figured out how to avoid the seriously creepy guys who are just too off-kilter to realize that, not only am I out of their league, we’re not even from the same galaxy. So I always end up feeling guilty when I date sane, intelligent, kind, gentle, interesting, reasonably attractive men and just don’t feel it. And why should I get to wait around until I feel it? There are women being beaten by their partners, for God’s sake.
Maybe next time there’s no chemistry, I’ll use the line my mom gave me: “It’s not that you’re not a great guy. You just don’t stimulate my limbic system.”
One hour until we meet. I’ve always figured that in order to avoid looking like a prostitute on a first date, you should choose one feature to play off at a time. So, I’ve got my power-dress (a ballet pink J. Crew sleeveless sundress that’s amazing for my collarbones), a nice pair of sandals and an airy cream lace shrug. Very limited makeup and touchable hair and just a spritz of Marc Jacobs’ Essence. Now it’s time to listen to some relaxing Belle & Sebastian. Everything’s going to go well.
One down, too many to go.
Date #1 was today. I’d had a bad feeling about this guy from the beginning. On a superficial level, his picture featured him in a collarless, button-down shirt in a non-colour which catalogues probably call ’oatmeal’ but I call ’taupe’ (I hate taupe — this may be an ongoing theme). Now, I admit that I’m a bit of a fashion-snob but I’m generally good about only holding myself to high standards. But really, if you’re going to have a profile on a dating site, doesn’t it make sense to lead with strength? Either way, I was willing to overlook all of this because he seemed nice and offered me caffeine. I can always be tempted with caffeine.
Well, long story short (too late), when I got to the coffeeshop I knew him immediately. This time, his shirt was an odd, sickly grey-green and still managed to make him look like the something out of Night of the Living Dead. Over drinks (green tea for me, some coffee-concoction that seemed more likely to bring on a diabetic coma for him), he spent the whole time talking about his mother’s cancer and how he’d really like to take me to meet her so she’d think he had a girlfriend and would quit worrying about him. Well, that and he mentioned that he’d spent a lot of time planning his wedding. And how I was “everything [he'd] always wanted in a woman”.
Admittedly, I haven’t done a lot of dating in my life. I’ve always tended towards settling into relationships quickly, not because I was looking for anything so serious but because it was easy and more comfortable than playing the dating game. Rick (who I am only not married to because I left Baltimore) and I went on exactly two dates before we were officially together and one of those was a walk around Johns Hopkins since he had to stay on campus all day. After that, dates were take out and discussing politics during sex. Sheb and I never really went on a date — we went immediately from friends to an exclusive sexual relationship. So, I’m not a dating expert in any sense, but I’m pretty sure that this is not how dates are supposed to go.
I’m just glad I never gave him my phone number.
Next try, McFosters with B. on Monday night, unless going to the art gallery with J. works out this weekend. If nothing works out, at least I’ll have some fabulous book fodder (the more I think about it, some of the dates I HAVE had are too funny not to write about).
What does “cautiously optimistic” mean, anyway?
Huh. So, people actually ARE clicking on over to my blog. At least I know I’m not ranting to an empty internet.
Today it’s pouring and the lightning is starting to make me regret my decision to keep my desk right next to the floor-to-ceiling windows. At least I have an excuse to read my newspaper over in the corner. My boss doesn’t seem to want to see me charred to a crisp any more than I do. It’s a frustrating newsday anyway — it seems like the phrase “cautiously optimistic” is all over the wires today, whether it’s in regard to the trapped miners, the torrential rain in New York City, Peter Pan peanut butter heading back to the shelf, the market’s self-correction after the Federal Reserve report yesterday or the South Korea/North Korea summit. I’m sorry, but “cautiously optimistic” seems like the most blatantly obvious cover-your-ass statement in existence. Say what you really think, people! There shouldn’t be any shame in making a wrong prediction — human beings, on the whole, are NOT psychic.
This would be why I’m killing time here. Here, and on match.com. I know, I know. Actually, no, I don’t know. Everytime I try out one of these sites, people roll their eyes at it and say how lame online dating is.
Well, you know what? I have better luck online. Offline, I seem to be the type of girl that people cheat on their girlfriends for. Either that or I get stared at for months, only to be drunkenly told at the end of it that they’d really wanted to ask me out instead but they were intimidated and now they’re stuck because they’ve managed to knock their girlfriends up. I’m the type of girl who always hears:
“If I weren’t gay/engaged/married/suicidally depressed/attached-to-mommy’s-apron, I’d snap you up like that.” (Wow. That is SO tempting. You’re always going to be gay. You’re not going to leave your fiancee/wife. And I’ve always wanted to date a mamma’s boy who slits his wrists on Tuesdays.)
At least online we can talk for awhile. I can use my Super Awesome! interviewing skills to come off brilliantly witty and make it clear that I’m not a needy, self-obsessed dramawhore (at least, I’ve never been accused of being one). And, best of all? If they get creepy, I can pull the online equivalent of sneaking out the back without embarassing myself in front of the hot waiter.
Within one day, I’ve been contacted by over 20 guys. Okay, so some of them obviously didn’t read my profile at all, but that’s to be expected. Out of all of them, I’m probably going to meet four of them and will keep in touch with at least six others. Maybe at least, when I go back for our family reunion this fall, I can avoid being patted on the head and told “don’t worry, you’ll find your man one day” without having to lie about it.
Tired and uninspired.
That’s basically how I feel lately. I got my results from my sleep study back. They were abnormal and showed that I don’t manage to stay in REM sleep long enough to get any real rest. I have a prescription for trazodone which does seem to put me to sleep even though it’s apparently an anti-depressant. Then again, I suppose it wouldn’t be surprising if I actually was depressed and just hadn’t realized it yet. I wish, however, that getting more sleep at night meant that I was less exhausted during the day.
I’m also rather frustrated with my inability to figure out what to write in a blog. I look around and it seems like everyone’s full of opinions they have to share, critiques of everything from movies to legislative decisions, celebrity gossip, witty conversations and hilarious anecdotes. It’s all rather intimidating really. I hate being that person who posts memes and a lot of photographs, but I’m almost afraid that I’ll have to start out that way, at least until I fall into more of a posting-pattern.
Unless, of course, anyone surfed in here and has any suggestions for me. *bats eyelashes* Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?
