Dating Story #12, a lesson in always having an out PLUS the importance of a cell phone that actually functions.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN GHOULS!  

btw, how totes inapprops is this jack-o-lantern I found?  I mean the girl is fine, but that is just an unnatural expectation for ta ta size in general. 
Anyway, I could NOT seem to get dressed for my date(s) last night, so I abided by my tried and true mantra: When in doubt, legs out.  ie, short skirt. done.

The night started out with me meeting an online guy for drinks who I had cancelled on a few weeks ago. We'll call this one Mo. Funny, initially he hadn't been that proactive in making a date. However, once I cancelled on him, he was all over it! So he finally pinned me down last night, but I told him I only had 1.5 hours to grab a drink before an event I had to be at. I always like to have an "out." And I'm glad I did. Not that he was bad-- he was just what BFWB and I like to call "meh." Also, I might point out, when we were talking about music and how he used to DJ, he proceeded to sing a few bars (ok several bars) from a song in a LOUD voice I can only label as "tone deaf meets barnyard animal." Yeah, major turn-on. So after his window of time had expired, I splitsky'd to the next event in the night's line-up. Mo very much wanted to drive me there, but I very much wanted the opposite of that to happen.  Besides, who the hell even HAS an automobile in NYC?  People who live in Brookland, that's who.  Peace out!

Next up was "The Most Interesting Show," a Dos Equis event.  They're one of our clients, and I figured it was worth meeting up with the work crew to investigate. Just as I arrived, this was happening:  

 

I made the picture extra-large here so you could take in the full "artistry" of it all.  

So, while I was watching this, another event happened.  The re-emergence of Abe the Jew [via text, obviously].  This time, he wants "closure." You know, because we've had such an in-depth, lengthy relationship.  Amazeballs.

At the same time, another online dude I've been chatting with was also hitting me up. We'll call him Gramercy. I haven't yet met Gramercy, but he seems to have a lot of potential:  6'4," blue eyes, graphic artist, actually lives IN the city and not far from me, and happens to be a Member of the Tribe [read: Jewish].  Bonus for my parents!  Despite all that, we've actually already had an argument over iChat.  You would think this would deter me, but I'm strangely intrigued.  And, he apologized.  So when he texted last night as I was watching ladies hump a hoop, I figured meeting him for a drink would be fine. My blackberry, however, had other ideas.  Ever since fizzy water exploded on it last week, the battery has been sucktastic.  And last night, after telling Gramercy I'd meet him at a bar at 11:30p, it totally died on me.  This would have been fine, since I knew where I was supposed to go.  But, I was easily convinced by 3 work chew toys to have a drink with them first at another bar.  We were having a blast and they argued why would I leave all that fun to run off and meet a guy who had already been a borderline doosh-b?  So, I stayed.  Oopsie!

Once I realized 30 mins had gone by, I figured Gramercy had probably skulked home by then.  So, I shrugged and stayed out at some weird after-party.  But then pizza started sounding much more appealing than cocktails, so I peaced out and escorted myself to the always amazing Artichoke Basille at 1:30am. If I could ever curtail my late-night eating, I could maybe be a size 2.  But it's just TOO good!  Hello, Sicilian lover.

Sigh...So I got home, rejuiced my dumb dead blackberry and saw several texts/missed calls from Gramercy.  Eek! I immediately called him, apologized profusely, told him I got delayed and then phone died. I could tell he was annoyed with me but was trying to play it cool.  Either way, I could have been an a-hole and not called at all, which I think he realized.  He told me he was going to bed and hung up kind of abrubtly, so I sent him a txt apologizing again.  He wrote back and thanked me and said the least I could do was say hi on video chat.  Since I still had my makeup on and decent hair situation, I gave in.  And actually, he's pretty damn cute!  We had a nice web chat until I almost fell asleep and signed off.  But I still have a strange feeling about this one in my gut.  Guess I will have to see how it all plays out.  

I have another online meet-up tonight for drinks with a guy who seems super sweet.  Stay tuned for that one and other stories I'm sure to come.  After all, it's Halloween weekend and the Wild Things will surely be out on the prowl...

Awwooooooooooooooooooooooo!

Happy Halloweekend, Pretties!

Dating story #11, The Great Aussie Caper: a lesson in bad kissers & a wishful exchange system

G'day, lovelies!

I didn’t know if I’d be writing this weekend since my mommy is in town visiting me from Texas. 

I adore my mom.  She’s sassy, fun, smart and pretty cool, as far as moms go.  So, I finally told her about this blog and what I had been up to. Then, she asked me what the blog was called.

ME: “Mom, I don’t think you really want to read some of the things I’m writing.”

HER:  “Yes I probably don’t want to read about all your sex scandals.”

ME: “Ew. What? It’s not sex scandals, mom!  Just funny stories about the shenanigans that seem to keep happening now that I’m on the dating scene for the first time in 9 years.”

HER:  “Ok.  Well I have a question:  What’s the difference between a blog and The Twitters.”

ME:  [pee in pants a little accidentally]

So, last night was din with MIM and her dad and a Brodway show. Earlier in the day, an online dating dude I’ve been chatting with said he’d be in the Lower East Side for a party and I should join.  This sounded good because a) I live nearby and b) meeting up at a party is a great opp to meet the guy, have a drink, but also have bail-ability.

I texted him after I deposited mommy at her hotel and said I would swing by.  We’ll call this one Aussie P.  I also met up with BFWB and brought him along too—extra buffer!  Also, Aussie P, clearly somewhat ashamed of online dating, asked me if we could make up a story [aka lie] of how we met.  I suggested we keep it classy and say we met at an “adult book store,” but he wasn’t so into that for some reason.  So we went with ‘met on the subway.  I dropped my wallet and he picked it up for me.’ 

We walked into the apt party and I instantly saw an extremely hot Aussie guy by the door.  I said “Are you Aussie P?”  He said “No, but I wish I was.”  [Damn, me too!] Then I saw the real Aussie P—and he was actually a cutie.  Good height, cool style, not bad at all.  We met, chatted a little bit, but he really wasn’t paying a ton of attention to me.  So I began to chat with Aussie J, the HOT apartment owner/party thrower.  Lindsey likey!  So I flirted with him for a bit, couldn’t get a vibe from either guy, but decided to ride this one out.  Despite Aussie P’s cute Aussie accent, there was something about him that seemed a bit…femme?  If there’s one thing I've realized thus far, I need a MAN.  Like a manly man.  Like, Aussie J.  He kinda had a Daniel Craig thing goin’ on. YUM. 

The Aussies moved the party across the street to a bar and we joined.  Aussie P decided to start paying a LOT of attention to me now.  Aussie J wasn’t there yet, but I knew he was en route.  So it was time for Aussie P’s audition to deem worthiness.  FAIL. He’s kinda boresville, asked me ZERO questions about myself, what I do, etc.  I would’ve unfailed him if the smooching were good, but it just was soo not.  In fact, it was eerily similar to Byrdie’s kissing.  

Question:  WHO is teaching these guys how to kiss?  Or rather, not kiss?! They must to be punished.  It’s like this strange, barely pressing lips against yours kissing that just really confuses me as to what I’m supposed to do there.  Dudes:  kiss me hard. Apply pressure. With feeling. Just both lips, touching both of mine, a little bit of tongue, and we’re good.  I'm seriously baffled.

Then, Aussie J shows up and we had a dance party, complete with AMAZING moves from my hilar new friend, AY [LindsAy]. I start REALLY wishing i could institute the exchange program at this point, and upgrade to the better Aussie.  He and I did trade digits so he could send me a pic.  Finally, I decided I had enough of the bad kissing so I peaced out.  Aussie P tried insisting on walking me home.  I insisted he did not.  I gave him a courtesy kiss goodnight (grody) and went to Meatball Shop for a nightcap from my fave bartender, Spanky...and obviously 2 meatball sliders.  At 3am.  You know, diet food.

Meanwhile, BOTH Aussies are texting me.  Aussie P is pouting that I didn’t stay out with him.  Aussie J then txts to say he and other friends are at the apt talking about me.  Giddyup!  So I write back "Really? Maybe I'm talking about you."  He asks where I am and I tell him to come to Meatball.  Then, he says "You already kissed Aussie P.  Too bad."  Snap!  Damn Bro Code.  I tell him that I was forced into it, and that I think he's really hot.  (I'm just going for it at this point.)  I also said I didn't know he was interested!  He said he was, but Aussie P got in first.  Damn you, Aussie P!!!  You are boring, a bad kisser and you live in Connecti-freaking-cutt!  Ahhhh.   

I txt back "I totally get that you have your bro's back.  But you live here, and I think you're hot.  So if you ever want to hang, you know where to find me."

He replies: "Ok, maybe another time when the dust has settled.  Good night, pretty girl."

So far, online dating: 1.  Lindsey: zilch

Lesson:  When online dating, you don't really "owe" anyone anything.  Everything should be fair game, so always go for the Aussie Gold. 

Love,

"pretty girl"

Dating story #10, the last of the chewbacas and, introducing online flakers!

"Nobody said it was easy 
 No one ever said it would be this hard 
 Aww take me back to the start...."


Well, thank you Coldplay.  Ain't that the freakin' truth.  Between ex-boyfriend post-breakup drama, getting double-booked on, only meeting barely-legal dudes everywhere I go....lemme tell you, it can take a toll on a girl. No, really. I'm exhausted.


So last night was my concert date with Byrdie, whom I'm declaring (praying) to be the LAST in my long string of chew-toys. Now, I'm not saying I had a bad time.  I actually had a lot of fun.  But I really think enough is enough.  Byrdie came over to pre-game at my apt before the My Morning Jacket show. I also invited my neighbor-friend, Trev, over for some drinks.  I missed his bday party last weekend and I also figured it would be a good buffer in case I didn't feel like flying solo in my apt with Byrdie.  
All was going well and we were all having fun, and then Trev decides to point to my famously flaccid candles.  

[In July while I was away on vacay, I returned to this]:


Trev asked if any of my blog stories were similar to the candles. I gave him an "eat sh*t and die" look and told him the blog is for the INNER CIRCLE only, as Byrdie looked very confused. Guess lil' Trev didn't realize the blog was not something I generally expose to guys I'm dating!  
[Trev- how did you NOT realize that??]  Anyway, now poor Byrdie thinks he's going to end up here.  I told him as long as he didn't do anything weird or stalker-y, he'd be fine.  
And we proceeded to have a great time at the show.  He was a good choice, loves live music and shows, even though we named this crowd Bro-lapalooza. Seriously, SO. MANY. BRO's.  High-fiving?? At My Morning Jacket???  Gross.


We went for a drink after.  Smooching ensued.  Not bad, but no major fireworks.  I'm a tad concerned this one may get attached.  
Fly, Byrdie, Fly! 


As for tonight, I accidentally double-booked TWO online dates.  As I was trying to figure out how to juggle, BOTH have bailed.  Okay, they've rescheduled.  I'm so over this flakiness.  If you want to meet me, fine.  If you don't, don't.  Then again, I guess I'm guilty of canceling on Sunday...but in my defense, I didn't even know if that was confirmed!  again-- SHADY!  


Sigh...I think I may go eat my feelings at MIM's and my new fave dessert spot. {evidence below}

Lesson: Perhaps I need to take a mini-break from dating of all kinds and actually SLEEP.  I kind of look haggard...

Dating Story #9, Is Anyone NOT a Chew Toy???

So, I can already see the biggest benefit thus far in 
PEOPLE SHOPPING:  
You get to find out a dude's age immediately!
No guessing games.
No room for errors.
Sidenote: I also very much enjoy being able to shop for people by what size flatters me best.  Generally I'm a mansize 6'2" or taller, please. Oh, and hold the back hair, thanks. 
[see? it's like ordering at the drive-thru at McDonald's!]


Anyway, that's off-topic.  Last Thursday, I got a new haircut and blowout [pic by Dbots]

and then immediately went outside into a giant deluge (thanks, NYC). Then, I headed to meet up with BFWB and friends at a dive bar near work.  Upon entering, I noticed a cutie in plaid [yes, I like a man in his indie-plaid, scruffy-faced uni. Deal with it.] So I decided to need something at the bar directly next to him.  He took the bait.  That, and we were both the only people singing aloud to The Walkmen's rockin' tune playing on the juke.  I then discovered HE had chosen said song and our mutual indie music appreciation love-fest began.  
We'll call this one Byrdie. 
Byrdie and I are getting along famously.  We love tons of the same music, he's impressed that I had just been to Austin City Limits, and we're both copywriters who work on health & wellness [aka 'HELLness'] clients.  Score!


Then, this conversation happens:
ME:  "So how long have you been at that ad agency?"
HIM: "About a year and a half."
ME:  "Oh, so where were you before that?"
HIM: "College."
ME [in my head]: "F*ck."


Luckily, turns out he's not 22, like boy-genius surprise-chewy 
6'7 Kevin.
He's 25.
[still, fml!!!]


But, I'm bored.  He's cute.  Easy to talk to. Asks for my digits.
He attempted to meet up with me on Friday night, but things got out of control at a party and the night ended with me helping BFWB "water a potted plant" [aka puke in it], so I really had no time for chewys.  And, I pretty much thought I probs wouldn't contact him.  
UNTIL I realized today that I have 2 tix to see My Morning Jacket tonight and no man-scorts to go with.  Even BFWB is busy!  So, looks like this bitch will be playing with her chew toy on this magical evening.

Needless to say, Byrdie is REAL excited.


Stay tuned for the aftermath, pretties...  


Lesson:  Just assume everyone you meet from now on is a college student/minor/chew toy until otherwise advised.

Dating Gets Digital.

Hello, friends [and stalkers!]


Hope y'all had a good weekend.  Mine was pretty busy and topped off with a fab fun night with my AA friend, Dbots.  Dbots is a charismatic, fiercely independent chick with a killer fashion sense and wickedly sharp tongue.  We heart each other.

She also has a SICK camera and uncanny knack for taking the most amazeballs pictures.  She usually art directs them to a tee and will delete until satisfied. Please note this one of me out with my actual size LV bag.  Yes, it's ridic, and I'm totes 'cessed with it.


In fact, tonight as we were back at our fave cool yet semi-unknown hang, The Randolph, one of Dbots' friends declared I should cut out one side, replace it with mesh and carry around a hamster in it, ala Miss Hilton.  
"Hamster is the new Chihuahua"  Brillz!


On to dating news...


Recently, some friends persuaded me to go on a dating website, just for a month.  They convinced me that a) it was about time I experience what everyone else out there was doing while I was stuck in MonogamyTown  and b) at least it could make for some good blog material.
I finally gave in.  And now, I have a new name for online dating:
PEOPLE SHOPPING
It's strange, because I've lost countless hours of my life to online clothing shopping.  Literally, I will go online to look for ONE thing and the next thing I know, it's 3 hours later, somehow I've spent $300, and I have to pee like it's nobody's business.
PEOPLE SHOPPING is a LOT like that (minus the lost $3 hundy)
It's easily the biggest time sucker I've come across since Facebook.  Even Facebook begins to bore me after I've sufficiently stalked everyone I wanted to cover for that session.
But online dating? It's ENDLESS. Overwhelming.  
It's like the COSTCO of love.  Dating in bulk.  
YOWZA!


I already backed out of my football-watching first date with someone today.  It was just too nice out and shopping was too appealing.  But I committed to another one (with another guy) for this wednesday night.  I'll keep you posted.  In the meantime, please pray for me to:
-have a good time on them
-find a love connection
-not end up in a ditch somewhere

smoochies! 

BUSTED!

So....


We all know by now that pleasure can often be spiked with pain.


And, that bold ventures usually come with big rewards...and big risks.


This blog is ALL of those things for me.


If you haven't deduced by now, one of the gentlemen callers I've blogged about has discovered a dating story written about him. Needless to say, he let me know.


oops.

Sigh...


I knew it was bound to happen, but hot damn! That was fast.  Props to some excellent Googling skillz!  I've tried to google-test my own discoverability and couldn't find me.  Color me impressed. And also, sorry.
I'm NOT sorry for writing the story. 
I tell these stories because they are:
    
a) true
b) the way I feel
c) I'm a writer and am therefore contractually obligated [to myself] to write it!


*But here's a lil' note to any/all future blog stalkers who may be the "lucky" recipient of a post*


-Nothing was ever written with cruel intentions.
-This is JUST a blog.  It's not the NY Times...or Post.
-People probably enjoyed reading about it (score for you!)
-I'm sorry if your feelings were hurt.
-MAN UP. It's a friggin' jungle out there and all's fair in 
love [sex] and war.


Hugs,


~Lindsey

Dating Story #8, An addendum.

Howdy from the Lone Star State!
It's been an awesome weekend here, some highlights include:


crazy antics at the Flaming Lips performance 
*note the lead singer crowd-surfing in a giant, inflatable bubble*

 

Some dirrrty dining at the Texas State Fair:

Behold, a massive corny dog, DEEP FRIED cookie dough, and Big Tex watching me gain 22 lbs in 22 mins.

On to the dating story!

Remember when I wrote about Abe the Jew?

It was in the story with the morale Don't go to Brooklyn.  [Actually, parts of Brooklyn are quite lovely.  Just not the ones with warehouse parties.]  

I digress.

Abe the Jew is the rando I had a drunken mistaken-identity situation with and somehow ended up at his apt in Flatbush.  He was a nice guy though (luckily) and even drove me back to the city.  He asked for my number, and though I tried my best NOT to give it to him, it didn't work.  And I felt bad since he had tolerated my drunken stupidity.  

So, of course, he immediately texted me--on his drive home. And many, many more times thereafter.

txt #1:  "I'm so glad I met you."

[no response from me]

txt #2: "I already miss those freckles."

[no response from me]

3 days later, phone call + voicemail

[no response from me]

2 days later, phone call

[no response from me]

I begin to think he's finally gotten the hint. Then, last saturday night (a week ago)...

txt #3: "Hey Troublemaker, what kind of trouble are you up 
to tonight?"

[no response from me]

Then, last thursday night...

txt #4: "Hey Lindsey, what are you up to tonight?

txt #5: "You want to see me?"

-->um, can we pause a moment to talk about how weird txt #5 was???

Then, Friday afternoon as I'm about to leave for Texas...

txt #6: "Lidsey, I like you a lot and tried to reach you but you never got back to me.  If you don't get back to me I can't call you for a long, long time.

WHAT?

No, really, whaaaaat?

So, I start to feel bad for this poor, pathetically unaware boy and finally text him back a little white lie to let him down easy...

txt #1 (and only): "Sorry, I'm dating someone pretty seriously now, didn't know what 2 say. Was nice mtg you, take care."

txt #7: "Well Lindsey I would like to see you again so get in touch whenever oyu feel like it."

[no response from me]

Lesson:  Whenever possible, DO NOT give out your number to someone you don't like, even out of guilt and/or pity.  You aren't doing anyone a favor.

And the winner is...

Ladies!


Thanks for all the awesome (and by that I might mean awesomely-horrifying) misadventures you sent in.  I had a really hard time choosing, but this one was just too bizarre.  
Behold, Larissa's Date From Weirdo-land:


If the sign of a good date is gathering many-a-tale to tell for the rest of your existence, then this pitiful specimen would be in luck, however, he instead wins the official title of "worst date of my life."  Let me share with you his ten-step recipe for disaster: 

1. He arrived an hour and a half late (knowing I had other plans promptly after our brief date)
2. He carries a "murse" - aka "man purse" that is no satchel, no over-sized wallet, no purse even - it is a double-layered plastic Walmart bag
3. We got halfway to our destination and he got sick, so he pulled over to lay down at a gas station without telling me what we were doing or why - he just pulled in and threw his seat back.
4. Despite his illness, he was still convinced we were going through with the date.  After about 6 attempts I finally convinced him to take me home instead of his original plan.
5. His original plan was for racquetball and a wedding reception in a town an hour away (for a first date?!?!?)
6. He SNIFFED me - a deep, long, purposefully exaggerated inhaling of my aura kinda sniff
7. He kept feigning anxiety, telling me I make him very nervous but that the one thing that would make it better is a hug, which led to aforementioned sniff
8. Since he was feeling so ill, I offered to let him rest on my couch until he felt well enough to make the 45-minute drive home.  Why did I do that?  He opted to rest and requested watching "Nacho Libre."  Really - wow, he knows how to impress a girl...or not.
9. His name may or may not have been "Sherman." And he may or may not have had a "the third" at the end of his name. Ouch.
10. The worst part?  One of my best friends was interested in him and has refused to talk to me in the two years since this happened.

Ohhh Larissa.  Thank you so much for sharing.  We're sorry you had to have this experience, but hot damn! It makes for a great story.  

And don't worry, other misadventure submitters-- I'm saving yours!  So stay tuned.

Have a great weekend, rockin' readers!  And speaking of rockin', I will be spending my weekend {here}.

Yeehaw!!!

Bring it, ladies!

Pretties,

I'm quickly discovering that in the dating jungle, when it rains, it pours.


And when it's dry, it's the desert.


Right now, we're looking at a Sahara situation.  {Like the camel?}

Alas, since it's bone dry and I'm leaving town for a few days for an adventure [or MISadventure] in Texas, I thought I'd open the floor up to
YOU.




So, pick your fave MISadventure in dating and submit it to me {here}.


I will post the winning entry to share with all. Remember to change any names you want to keep anonymous, oui?


And, don't worry.  I'll hang on to the rest for another rainy day.  Or in my case, not-so-rainy, drought-y day.  


*Can't wait to read your stories!*

Dating story #7, a lesson in age appropriateness

AA.  It's new.  And no, it does not represent alkys anon in this case.  


It's {age appropriate}.


And apparently, it's a tad more important than I previously realized.  


Last night had me bouncin' around the city.  Good times with different peeps, and finally ending up at The-bro's new east village apt (Four 20-something boys. 1 giant party pad. You do the math).

I attempted to look cool while not dying and flashing the entire room as I wound down the spiral staircase [which, by the way, is impossible], and entered what I can best describe as a rockin' frat party.  Complete with Dubs, aka chewy.  Oh, and beer pong and other assorted drinking games that involve plastic cups.  You get the picture.  And if you don't, here's one to help. 

But it was definitely a fun time.  And of course always nice to see a chew toy.  Except not so nice to see him grinding, frat-style, with a semi-busted chick.  But that's what I saw at the impromptu dance party we had started later on in the night.  Which was the perfect cue for me to exit the premises.  That and the fact that Dubs also appeared pants-less at one point in the night, his signature move.  I guess the old trend of "dropping trou" (my dad's generation) is back and improved, with a new "removal" addendum!  Who else feels lucky??!


Regardless, I felt not one twinge of jealousy.  Simply a twinge of "Really, Lindsey? Ya ready to be over this phase now?"  To that, I answered myself with the affirmative mantra that I see every day affixed to the New Museum in my 'hood. 

Lesson:  There comes a point when you realize it's time to leave the chew toys for the young bitches, and try to hold out for REAL men. 
[Assuming they exist.  Still unconfirmed.]

Actively Seeking Spooner.

WANTED:
Relatively attractive, non-psychopathic, quasi age-appropriate dude above 
6 ft. tall.
Duties include: Spooning me, without sweating profusely, until I am in a pleasant slumber.


Hello pretties! 
{Happy Friday}


As you can probably tell, things have been a little slow in man-land this week.  Although it could possibly be due to bestie, Jendel, bunking with me this week while in from LA on a biz trip.  
{see our "engagement picture" below for ref}

Yeah, we love each other.  We moved here together 10 years ago with no job and no apt, to live in the big city. Pretty crazy, huh?  We often refer to each other as "wifey," although this past May, my wifey left me for her Goldie (ie BF) who lives in Venice, CA.  
At least it's an awesome place to visit!


Alas, having Jendel as my bed company this week only reaffirmed the need I've been having for a good, solid spooning. [inner-spoon only, of course]


But just having that serene, peaceful feeling you get when being artfully spooned [oh yes, it is an art] into a perfect night's sleep.  It's so good, it just may have to move up to the top of the priority list.


Fingers crossed for a good weekend...