Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Friday, June 24, 2011
Epic IM's with Bob
Airy
lame. what is this new picture?
lame. what is this new picture?
bob
it's a super cute kitty
it's a super cute kitty
Airy
but you hate cats
but you hate cats
bob
I just don't wnat them to touch me
I think they are cute in pictures
I think that's how I feel about men too....
I just don't wnat them to touch me
I think they are cute in pictures
I think that's how I feel about men too....
Airy
hahahaha
hahahaha
Mai Tai
Mai Tai's are excellent for right before you have to do something that you know is going to be SUPER annoying. You don't want to do it. But if you have to do it, you are sure as shit gonna smell like rum---so people know you didn't want to be there. More rum!
Sake
This is sake that I had at one of those Japanese places with the meat on sticks. Apparently the thing to do is pour the sake until it over-flows into the saucer. Sake is made for drinking when your x-boyfriend is in town and wants to see you, but you don't want to see him, but you do, but you don't. If you had somehow developed Demi Moore's body and were dating a younger man, you would definitely want to see him. If he wasn't still a selfish asshole and you thought it would work out, you would definitely want to see him. Neither of those things magically happened, so you are drinking sake. It's really the only good option if those first two things don't come through for you. If one of those things does happen for you--screw you. I have sake.
Lunch in LA
There are several times that I'm out in public, or out to eat, and the conversations of the people around me are just so inane or F-ing stupid that I can't control my frustration/amusement level.
Today at lunch with Bob---we grabbed a couple salads and sat at a table by the window. Two tacky Arab dudes---one with extremely ambiguous sexuality and the other with bad breath and nasty aftershave (that made Bob later say, "he smelled like my dad, and I hate my dad, so I instantly hated him") sat down next to us.
The one with the aftershave was talking about a property he recently bought in the area: "The media room has a closet, so it's technically a bedroom, but it wasn't listed as that---I mean, they could have gotten a lot more for it. The sellers were pains in the ass. I mean, an old lady owned it, but we bought it from her kids. She was a holocaust survivor, but that house has bad feng shui. You can see the back door from the front door, and I think that's bad. I talked to my Rabbi about it......"
This whole time I can see Bob starting to crack a smile, so I crack a smile, and this dude just keeps going and going and before I know it, both Bob and I are laughing hysterically. We weren't talking before we started laughing, so we can't pretend that one of us said something funny. It's all too obvious.
The man looks over and says, "Are you laughing at me?" Which clearly only makes me laugh more.
Yep, we're nice. But that's lunch in LA for you. That conversation was ridiculous.
Today at lunch with Bob---we grabbed a couple salads and sat at a table by the window. Two tacky Arab dudes---one with extremely ambiguous sexuality and the other with bad breath and nasty aftershave (that made Bob later say, "he smelled like my dad, and I hate my dad, so I instantly hated him") sat down next to us.
The one with the aftershave was talking about a property he recently bought in the area: "The media room has a closet, so it's technically a bedroom, but it wasn't listed as that---I mean, they could have gotten a lot more for it. The sellers were pains in the ass. I mean, an old lady owned it, but we bought it from her kids. She was a holocaust survivor, but that house has bad feng shui. You can see the back door from the front door, and I think that's bad. I talked to my Rabbi about it......"
This whole time I can see Bob starting to crack a smile, so I crack a smile, and this dude just keeps going and going and before I know it, both Bob and I are laughing hysterically. We weren't talking before we started laughing, so we can't pretend that one of us said something funny. It's all too obvious.
The man looks over and says, "Are you laughing at me?" Which clearly only makes me laugh more.
Yep, we're nice. But that's lunch in LA for you. That conversation was ridiculous.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Epic Convos with Bob
I have a friend...Bob. Bob is gay. Bob is fabulous without being outwardly fabulous. What I mean by this is that Bob wears jean (expensive but not embellished), button up shirts and converse. He spends time on his hair, but not too much. He does obsess about his hair. He also obsesses about a little blemish right by the corner of his right eye that no one will ever notice but him. One time I picked him up $60 moisturizer at Sephora. He knows what is heinous and what isn't, but doesn't spend time looking at Vogue or keeping up on fashion week. He's great, but he's not too good for everyone. In short, he's a pretty perfect gay friend.
He does however say AMAZING things. He's not an asshole, but if you over-heard some of our conversations you would think he was. Me? I just can't help but laugh.
"Ug. That homeless dude looks like something out of Star Wars. Ew. It's looking at me. I swear, they should just kidnap all the homeless people and perform Nazi science experiments on them. That way science can make huge advances all at once. Maybe Loreal will actually come out with a turn-around cream that actually works. I mean, I don't want to hear about these experiments or see pictures, but I want that turn-around cream."
This is not even close to the tops of amazing things he says. Expect more updates.
He does however say AMAZING things. He's not an asshole, but if you over-heard some of our conversations you would think he was. Me? I just can't help but laugh.
"Ug. That homeless dude looks like something out of Star Wars. Ew. It's looking at me. I swear, they should just kidnap all the homeless people and perform Nazi science experiments on them. That way science can make huge advances all at once. Maybe Loreal will actually come out with a turn-around cream that actually works. I mean, I don't want to hear about these experiments or see pictures, but I want that turn-around cream."
This is not even close to the tops of amazing things he says. Expect more updates.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Dear OK Cupid....I don't care
Yep, I don't care that so-and-so is checking me out. How to I change these damn settings? Trust me, I get enough internet rejection from the people who I message and never message me back and from the people who start talking to me, only to disappear. I don't need to be told that someone came along, read my profile, though I was ugly/not funny/whatever and moved on. That's a dumb thing to tell someone.
Also, I can't find the option where I get to tell this so-called "service" that I just need a funny Jewish dude that's around my height (shorter is okay) that is fine with a curvy white girl, who may not be curvy forever...because she did just start taking cardio barre classes....and is pretty sarcastic. Where's that button? Dumb.
Also, I can't find the option where I get to tell this so-called "service" that I just need a funny Jewish dude that's around my height (shorter is okay) that is fine with a curvy white girl, who may not be curvy forever...because she did just start taking cardio barre classes....and is pretty sarcastic. Where's that button? Dumb.
Of course I want to help you figure out if you are gay
At some point someone listed my number online, or maybe even in the phonebook under:
Confused about your sexuality? Need confirmation that you are in fact gay? Go on a few dates with this girl.
They must have listed that these confused men could find me at the karaoke bar down the street from my house, because seriously, that is where they find me. It's either that, or something about the amount of Heart that I sing. Maybe singing Heart at karaoke is some sort of almost-gay-dude-code. I'll have to look into this. Or stop singing.
It's just like when I moved to New York and all the crazy people on the subway talked to me all the time until finally my boss said, "You have GOT to work on your bitch-face for when you ride the subway, or this is going to just keep happening to you." Well, needless to say, my bitch-face was perfected by the time I left NY. Now I just have to learn how to make, "No, I don't want to help you with any confusion you may have about your sexuality, because I don't have any confusion about mine." God I hope there's a face for that.
Confused about your sexuality? Need confirmation that you are in fact gay? Go on a few dates with this girl.
They must have listed that these confused men could find me at the karaoke bar down the street from my house, because seriously, that is where they find me. It's either that, or something about the amount of Heart that I sing. Maybe singing Heart at karaoke is some sort of almost-gay-dude-code. I'll have to look into this. Or stop singing.
It's just like when I moved to New York and all the crazy people on the subway talked to me all the time until finally my boss said, "You have GOT to work on your bitch-face for when you ride the subway, or this is going to just keep happening to you." Well, needless to say, my bitch-face was perfected by the time I left NY. Now I just have to learn how to make, "No, I don't want to help you with any confusion you may have about your sexuality, because I don't have any confusion about mine." God I hope there's a face for that.
M. Night knows how to roll pt. 1
Here is the thing....don't get wasted on a first date. Here's the other thing...if you do get wasted on a first date, it's probably not a good idea to answer a phone call FROM YOUR GIRLFRIEND. Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize the point of online dating wasn't to find someone if you were single, but to be an attached person just "testing the water to see if there's something better out there." My bad.
Also, why do people chose the point when their life is the most messed up to try and find someone to share their disappointment with. Prime example--people who meet at DUI classes.
I went on a date with an Egyptian dude. From the get-go he seemed like a real "I want to be so Hollywood that I'm over Hollywood" kind of hipster. Should have left right away. Didn't. Dumb.
This "gentleman," who we now call M. Knight, decided to meet me at a restaurant that he's a regular at. He knew the bartender and the owner. He was late, so told me to tell the bartender I was a friend of his and order a cactus margarita. He was right about the margarita, and only the margarita...it was delicious. Someone...not me....decided to follow their margarita up with shots....you know, cause of the calories in juice--or maybe because he's a freakin alcoholic, and trust me--shots are the fastest way to Shit-show-ville and alcoholics know this.
There's more on this story, which I'll share with you at a later date.
Also, why do people chose the point when their life is the most messed up to try and find someone to share their disappointment with. Prime example--people who meet at DUI classes.
I went on a date with an Egyptian dude. From the get-go he seemed like a real "I want to be so Hollywood that I'm over Hollywood" kind of hipster. Should have left right away. Didn't. Dumb.
This "gentleman," who we now call M. Knight, decided to meet me at a restaurant that he's a regular at. He knew the bartender and the owner. He was late, so told me to tell the bartender I was a friend of his and order a cactus margarita. He was right about the margarita, and only the margarita...it was delicious. Someone...not me....decided to follow their margarita up with shots....you know, cause of the calories in juice--or maybe because he's a freakin alcoholic, and trust me--shots are the fastest way to Shit-show-ville and alcoholics know this.
There's more on this story, which I'll share with you at a later date.
When to say when
I've never been one for moderation. I'm not really a "know when to say when" type of person. You should know this up front. You should know a lot of things about me up front. You should know that I'm terrible at saying no, that I probably use the F word too much, and that I'm usually early....except for when I'm not. I do a lot of things that I don't want to do, and I do them usually for either one of two reasons---1. I think it would make my parents happy or 2. I feel some obligation to be social and/or constantly surrounded by people. If I suddenly decided that I was okay with the prospect of being alone for hours, or even for the rest of my life (and maybe was on my period) I would sit home nights and weekends and make pasta....but then I would be 800 lbs and when I died they would have to burn the house down around me.
This desire to want to be social and meet people---friends or dudes--gets me into a lot of trouble. I don't feel like it's ever been as much of a burning desire as it has been lately. See, I'm not really over my last break-up, but I should be....I know I should be. So I persist in the world of online dating and letting people set me up until the day that I am magically over this ex-beau.
The reason that I do try online dating or letting people set me up doesn't really matter...the only thing that matters is that almost every time I go on a date or meet someone new, it's a complete disaster. Mind you, I'm pretty good at laughing about myself, and at life, so it usually turns out to be a funny disaster, or at least something I can make in to a funny story later...and that's how this blog is starting. See--I was just at dinner with two friends, catching one of them, who I haven't seen in over 6 months, up on my recent dating debacles. She said---and I hear this all the time so it wasn't really new-- "You should write a book, or at least start a blog. Your stories are hilarious." Now, normally when people tell me I should write a book I just think, "meh, I guess I could. Or I could just tell my friends about it and not put all that effort into something that other people may or may not find as funny as I find it." But she slipped the blog idea in there, and honestly, that seems so much more doable than writing a book. I mean, with my inability to say no, or even say when, I'm clearly just going to keep going on amazingly bad dates...and why shouldn't I chronicle these amazing experiences. I mean, they ARE pretty damn funny.
This desire to want to be social and meet people---friends or dudes--gets me into a lot of trouble. I don't feel like it's ever been as much of a burning desire as it has been lately. See, I'm not really over my last break-up, but I should be....I know I should be. So I persist in the world of online dating and letting people set me up until the day that I am magically over this ex-beau.
The reason that I do try online dating or letting people set me up doesn't really matter...the only thing that matters is that almost every time I go on a date or meet someone new, it's a complete disaster. Mind you, I'm pretty good at laughing about myself, and at life, so it usually turns out to be a funny disaster, or at least something I can make in to a funny story later...and that's how this blog is starting. See--I was just at dinner with two friends, catching one of them, who I haven't seen in over 6 months, up on my recent dating debacles. She said---and I hear this all the time so it wasn't really new-- "You should write a book, or at least start a blog. Your stories are hilarious." Now, normally when people tell me I should write a book I just think, "meh, I guess I could. Or I could just tell my friends about it and not put all that effort into something that other people may or may not find as funny as I find it." But she slipped the blog idea in there, and honestly, that seems so much more doable than writing a book. I mean, with my inability to say no, or even say when, I'm clearly just going to keep going on amazingly bad dates...and why shouldn't I chronicle these amazing experiences. I mean, they ARE pretty damn funny.
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