INTRODUCING: Beauty-full Tuesdays!

Welcome back pretties!  Turkey hangover, anyone?


Seeing as we're now fully surrounded by the holidaze, and I can't possibly have dating stories for you ALL the time, this idea has surfaced.  Actually, I'd like to take credit but after {this post}, a few of you asked if I would share other beauty tips and favorite products.  BRILLZ!  I am a self-proclaimed [and friends will attest] beauty product whore.  So why not share the benefits of my extensive product "research" with all of YOU! 


TODAY'S FEATURE: You Glow, Girl!


The weather is a-changing.
That summer tan is looo-ong gone. [sniffle]
And yet, we still have to march on like the gorgeous troopers we are.  So, why have pasty, casper-like white legs?

Bestie Jendel learns a hard lesson in bronzing

I've tried self-tanners: disasterous orange-brown debaucles.  VIM. Not attractive.






Since those terrifying days, I've moved on to bronzers/body makeup and lemme tell ya-- I've auditioned a LOT of them. I should really create a "product graveyard" for all the losers.


So, without further ado, here's the best I've ever found:
LORAC TANTALIZER AWARD SHOW GLOW

Ok, so the name could have been re-evaluated.  Ignore it.  Because this sucker gives you subtle color and a nice glowy-sheen without any of that stripper-tastic shimmer shite. It's saved me from the hell of stockings (haaate them!) several times.
Just spray in your hands and blend well.  I've even been known to put a bit on my shoulders and, at key times, my decolletage (ooh la la!)
*Wash hands thoroughly with soap + water after use to destroy all evidence.  Also, be sure to let legs/assorted body parts dry a few minutes after applying.  A few of my tall boots are a little sheen-y from premature dressing.


$32 at Sephora -And, they are often sold out so STOCK UP!  Also, I prefer the aerosol one to the lotion version.


Happy Tanfastic-ness, pretties!

Happy Thanksgivin', y'all!

I landed last night in my hometown of San Antonio, Tx.  Yes, home of the Alamo.

No, there is NO basement here! And that joke is REAL old.

I'll be here until next monday, and thus, I suspect will probably have less than zero happening in the dating world whilst I'm here.  My main goals are really: 1) to not make myself ill on Thanksgiving by gorging myself [see: fried turkey] like I usually do and 2) survive my mom's "loving" [incessant] nagging.  


Funny things DO happen around here.  For instance, apparently my parent's dog, Dylan, now wears socks.

Also, I posted this pic on Facebook since I found it amusing.  But my mom is friends with me on Facebook, and was unhappy with the angle/shot I took of our kitchen. "Not flattering."

Happy Holiday Survival, lovelies!

Dating Story #17, a weekend whirlwind.

Sometimes I really need a weekend to recover from my weekend.  
This is definitely one of those times.


One day my friend, Sexy Sue, and I were sitting around lamenting about some of the nice, designer-y, splurge-y items collecting designer dust in our closets simply because they either don't fit anymore or we are just "over" them, yet we can't bear to donate something like that so we just let them take up space in our matchbox NYC closets.  I decided enough was enough, and so we organized a "Purge Party."  A swap.  A meeting of the couture minds.
Saturday afternoon, 8 of my fab fashionista friends met up at my friend Karina's lovely apt, spread out our bags of shoes, clothes and 'cessories and went. to. town.  Seriously, we had brunch, mimosas and spent roughly 4 hours in our skivvies trying on everything in our "store." See the pic of our lovely hostess, so overjoyed & overwhelmed with her finds, that she's wearing several all at once. [please note the 2 different shoes.  she had them on for HOURS.]


Once we had picked through, tried on, and battled over who got what, the rest was left for Goodwill. [Unless you are MIM, and left with more than you came with.]  Ladies, this event could NOT have been more successful.  I highly recommend it to all of you out there!  Such a great way to get awesome stuff for zero dollars and zero cents!


I came home fashionably exhausted and in need of a nap that never happened. It was already time to go out!  My young chew-toy friends were having a pre-Hanukah party that I had planned on cruising by.  But wait--as I was spackling my face in an attempt to look "fresh and rested," I got a text from Zee German! I hadn't really talked to him since he came to my gig and figured that was it, but lo and behold, here he was inviting me to a party at a bar near my hood.  Interesting... maybe this means he likes me? Only one way to find out.  Better shave my legs just in case!  And...maybe I'll just shoot a topical text to The Streak while I'm at it?  I'm thinking he could be an excellent candidate in the rotation of the "hey, you out tonight? wanna meet up" guys.  
So I head to the party o' chewbacas while keeping up a nice stream of texts with The Streak.  The chewy party was lotsa fun, although very reminiscent of the old days when you didn't care if your NYC apt was a) the size of dish cabinet b) on the 6th floor of a walk-up and c) hot as a mofo, you just had a party and packed as many people in there as possible.  Super fun, but I had to peace outta there pretty early as I was having hot flashes.  And I received a text from Zee German telling me to "get my ass over to the bar" which seemed promising. He was downstairs dancing at this club with friends when I got there.  Looking hot as always, although wearing a hat again and it occurred to me that maybe he's hiding something.  Must investigate further...  Anyway, Zee German was clearly getting sick and had almost completely lost his voice. It's hard enough to understand homeboy in a loud bar with his accent when he HAS a voice, so this proved extra challenging.  Also, I still can't tell if he's into me or not.  Dancing: perfect opp to, you know, touch a girl without her thinking you're a creeper, right?  Yet no touching took place. I got bored with this and my inability to understand Zee German and decided to splitsky.  But wait! After approx 300 texts with The Streak, he finally invited me to meet up with him at at bar. In Brookland. At 2:30am.  So obviously, I went. And patted self on the back for the last-minute leg shave- whew! We had a blast, although I was MANY sheets to the wind by that point.  I don't quite recall getting back to his apt but I DO remember somehow scratching myself in the middle of my head and having it bleed profusely. Hot.  What guy doesn't want to tap a bloody mess?  I guess my head finally clotted at some point and I think we had a serious make-out sesh, and that's the last thing I remember as we both clearly passed out.  I woke up and realized I had been sleeping in a bed atop only a mattress cover (no sheets) and comforter.  Also, no pillowcases.  Um, I thought I went to Brookland. How did I end up back in college?  Even better, as I crept to the bathroom in the harsh light of day, I was welcomed by my reflection in the mirror, complete with horrifically smeared black eye make-up EVERYWHERE and hair that resembled a wild, rabid animal and maybe had some type of pheasant nesting in there.  Tres attractive!  Why can't we just wake up looking the way we did when we went to sleep? FML.
Oh well.  We had a fun morning and he even made me some coffee.  Also he 'splained that he hadn't had a chance to put his sheets on the bed yet and wasn't expecting guests.  Ok. I'll accept that. THIS time.
So, you think the weekend is over? Think again.  My fun, spunky friend Ay was in from Philly for the day and wanted to meet up.  So I suggested we meet at my fave hot guy hotspot, the Ainsworth sports bar. [again]  Just as I finished telling her about meeting Jimmy there last weekend and the letdown of him never calling me OR responding to the funny note I dropped him on FB, I ran right into him.  I looked at him, looked away (not realizing it was him) and then looked back as he was like "Hi, Lindsey."  I had half a mind to be mad at him, but figured that wouldn't help anything. Plus I kept hearing the advice of his friend about being aggressive.  So, I teased him for not responding to my message.  He said he never got it! Hmm.  So we chatted for a few and then moved onto other boys, keepin' it breezy.  Later we hung out with Jimmy and posse again and I decided to go for broke.  I pretty much said "We should really be in a fight right now, seeing as you never called me." He said "Huh? It's only been a week!"  Um--dude, that's a LONG ASS TIME in the world of initial dating phone calls. He also said he was in Philly for business all week.  I know, I know.  You're all probably thinking this is too much effort and what the hell am I doing.  But, we really have great chemistry and he's tall, cute, smart and witty.  Seems too good to totally write off just yet.  C'mon Jimmy- BRING. IT!  I'm seriously getting older by the second here...


Lesson:  Try not to lose sight of the difference between being aggressive and being the dude in the courtship.

Dating Update

Nobody likes me.
Everybody hates me.
Guess I'll go eat worms...


...or, escargot. I mean, that's classier than a worm, but still very similar, right?


correction: somebody does like me.  
One of the online guys I've been chatting with on and off for awhile popped up today seeing what I had going on this weekend.  We haven't met yet and he looks pretty cute in his pics [despite a possible gigantic chin situation], so I was open to possibly meeting him late-nite for a drink.  Yet, as we were instant messaging today, he kept putting words in quotes. For instance...
"We should meet up for a drink or two and maybe "more" if we like each other."


I didn't pay attention to this at first.  Until another one came up:


"Yeah, okay so a few drinks and maybe some "fun" if we like where it's going."


umm...I'm starting to see where THIS is going, a-hole.  So I asked point blank what the deal with these words in quotes are.  He skated around so I was like "Do you mean an "intimate encounter" by the words you have in quotes?"  
he said:
"Well, would you have a problem with that?"
i said:
"Um...i have a problem with a complete stranger basically asking if I'm down to do the nasty before ever meeting me.  A little presumptuous, dontcha think??"
He apologized and asked if he offended me.
I blocked him from IM.


Instead, I'll be dining, dishing, and Harry Potter-ing with MIM.  What a better, sleaze-free, disease-free option!!


Happy weekending, lovlies!  More stories next week...

Guess what doesn't mix well?

Okay, yes Lindsey and whiskey.
[Also, see: Lindsey and tequila.]
But this isn't about that. It's...


DATING and ACNE!


"But Lindsey, you're in your early 30's? Why do you have acne?"


Why, what a brilliant question!  [That no one can seem to answer.]  
I blame: NYC, stress, men, my mom, weather, my clients, and all the people I don't like for it.


HOWEVER- I have finally found the first product that actually works on those horrific, volcanic, undergrounder pain pimples.  Behold:

Mario Badescu Buffering Lotion


And no, I am not getting paid to write about this. I'm writing about it because it freaking works and let's face it, dating and face craters mix about as well as peanut butter and olives. 




In other news, I have no other news. Not much to report to you today since Jimmy (ie. the guy I had to remind to get my number after spending 2.5 hours talking to me) has not yet remembered to call me.  After I left, apparently his friend told my friend CH that I was going to "have to be aggressive with this one." Um...I already made him take my number.  I cannot make him use it, however.  So c'mon, Jimmy!  Be a big boy.  Go big or go home. Let's do this!


I will continue to remain optimistic, although we are nearing the 3 day point here.  Luckily, thanks to my miracle buffering lotion, my facial leprosy should be gone soon in the case that he does call.  
Ah, the waiting....

Dating Story #16, a lesson in making it happen.

Wow, what a hum-dinger of a weekend!  
[Btw, that's southern speak for "hella good + crazy"]


Last post, I told you about my grand plans to attend the insanity that is the Heineken Inspire Party, a gigundo warehouse party with unlimited free Heineken, food and a line-up of rap and hip-hop artists.  I also told you how I realized it was the perfect opp to have a reason to invite and spend some more quality time with The Streak [aka makin' it happen!].  So I donned my hottest "hip-hop-propriate" outfit and headed out to start my night at approximately 3pm.  (Hey, it gets dark here now at 4pm anyway.) So off I went, accompanied by a fun crew, including BFWB [obvi].  The mood was great and the skunky Heineken was free-flowin.  Yet I was having a hard time discerning whether or not The Streak was into me, or just along for a fun party. Luckily, that's the beauty of having BFWB around.  He is amazing at a) befriending guys and b) getting extremely useful info out of them.  I probably would have figured this out eventually when The Streak started to put his arm around me and, more eventually, planted some nice smooches on me.  But where's the fun in WAITING?? And as far as the smooching, what's more romantic than having a nice make-out sesh during Cee Lo's live performance of the "F*k You" song?  Candlelight? Caviar? Or a 300lb squatty black man singing a song full of expletives? I think we all know the answer here.  Sarcasm aside, we all had a blast and BFWB invited The Streak and I to come 

"...he's an Xbox, and I'm more an Atari..."

with him to a fabulous classy rooftop party some friends of his were throwing.  We fit right in with the classy-ness of the party, as we immediately ambushed the waiter with the tray of sliders and his fellow waiter friend with the tray of truffle fries. Mmmm...classy.


After we had our fill of free food, wine, and sick city views, The Streak and I came back to my apt for some music appreciation and...a lil' slumber party action, complete with some epic spooning.  When we woke up this morning, I dragged him to watch me wolf down some hangover eggs benedict while he only sipped on coffee. [WTF?!] Brunch was a little awky for some reason, but I can't quite put my finger on why. Oh well, on to the next.


Last Sunday, I ran into my awesome friend and ass-kicking trainer, CH, at the swanky [seriously, they have chandeliers!] sports bar that is the Ainsworth.  When I'm not grunting and cursing, our 60 min weekly sessions are otherwise filled with us non-stop dishing about men and dating.  And as we looked around the bar last weekend and noted the ridic abundance of male hotness, we decided we needed to log in many more hours there on football Sundays STAT.  So we met up there this afternoon to hang during the 4 hour window I had before my next activity.  I got there first, so I sidled up to the bar and immediately spotted my newest target, a 6'3 Jimmy Fallon look-alike, who we'll call Jimmy.  So, I made some comment to him and his friend about a stupid play the Jets just made and I was IN.  Jimmy and I proceeded to talk for the next 2.5 hours and I discovered that not only is he tall and adorable, but also smart, funny and AA! In fact, we're the same age!!! And, when CH arrived, Jimmy's hilarious friend fell instantly in love with her.  Couldn't have scripted it better. But alas, the clock struck 7 and I had to run to Brookland to see a friend's performance.  Jimmy decided it was also his exit cue, since he hadn't planned on staying nearly that long [guess that was my fault!], so he walked me out and even decided to escort me 1 stop on the subway. {swoon!}  But as we're on the subway, I'm thinking "ask for my number. ask for my number."  Realizing that his stop is coming up in less than a minute and he's about to drop the ball, I finally turned to him and said "Um, you should probably get my number before you have to get off." He was like "OH!" [Duh] He then whipped out his phone, got the digits and gave me a quick cheek kiss goodbye. And that's what I like to call MAKING IT HAPPEN.  Bam!  
Now, if only I could make him use my number.  But I feel pretty good about it.  I also just love the fact that dating at this age and stage in my life, I have absolutely no shame and fear of rejection.  I wish I could go back and tell my 22-year-old self the brilliance of this attitude. And while I was at it, I'd probably also tell myself to cut back on the Big Macs and hit the gym once in awhile.  Ah well, live and learn, right?


LESSON:  If you want something, don't just sit around and wait for it. MAKE. IT. HAPPEN.

HELLO, WEEKEND!

My you are quite the handsome devil.


I really spent a large portion of Thursday trying to understand why it was NOT Friday. The only conclusion I could come to was that going out big on a Tuesday night makes the week reeeeeally loooong.


*FIRST ORDER OF BUSINESSS*


My awesomely talented friend, Ilana, has a fabulous blog called 
Mommy Shorts. 
So fabulous, in fact, she is up for the BEST MISCELLANEOUS BLOG AWARD at The Bump!  Be sure to check out her amazeballs site and let's all help her win by taking 2 lil' seconds to vote for Mommy Shorts {here}.  
Do it for me.  Do it for Ilana. Do it for the children. 
And please, do it before Monday at 12am!


NEXT!


Whilst sitting around wondering if the elusiveness that is The Streak was going to man up and contact me, BFWB informed me of a big Heineken Inspire Event happening on Saturday.  We all went to one over the summer featuring free EVERYTHING [food, beer, tshirts], and live music by indie bands Rogue Wave and Cold War Kids--super good time.  [Especially because I had the hotness of Teca as my arm candy]. So when he told me about this one, I was intrigued...until I found out the theme of this event is RAP. Now, I likes me some hip-hop and rappy-rap (pretty sure calling it that would probs get me knifed in the Bronx), but this is some hard stuff. Um, NAS anyone?  Not to mention it's free and I'm a tad concerned about the type of people potentially attending.  However, this concern immediately vanished when it occurred to me that this just might be the kind of event The Streak would enjoy. Oh, I love me an IN!  So I texted him the details and inquired of his interest in attending, to which he wrote back "F*k yeah! Sounds killer."  Houston, we have contact!  I also included our mutual friend, S-Bomb, since this is right up her alley.  Needless to say, this is not a date.  But, it is another opp to have fun, hang out and get to know each other better.  And of course after this, ball's in his streaky court.  
We shall see just how "inspired" this event will turn out to be...


Happy weekending gorgeous readers!  And don't forget to VOTE for Mommy Shorts!!!!

Dating Story #15, a lesson in the art of juggling.

I've always prided myself as an excellent multi-tasker.  
But apparently, I'm a shitty juggler. 


This was revealed to me last night as BFWB and I played our 2nd big gig out at 11th Street Bar. Because I had met zee German last Friday after rehearsal, we were talking about the band thing and so I mentioned our gig this week.  I really didn't think he'd actually come. But yesterday when I posted a reminder on Facebook about it, he commented "see you there ;-)" with his profile picture staring at me.  Who wants to see that again? 

Oh, I do.  
So, I knew he'd probably be there with a friend. Then, my friend S-bomb informed she was also bringing me a little gift.  Awhile back, she had a Wienerfest in her adorable Brookland backyard and I spent a little bit chatting with her friend, who I refer to as The Streak. [Sidebar: I never feel the need to explain why I've named the guys these names, but I wanted to clarify this one has nothing to do with running around nekkid.  He happens to have this really cool, small grey streak amongst his thick black hair.

Apparently singing is fugly.

Until recently, I didn't even know (or wonder) what his actual name was.  This is the problem with using these monikers.]  Anyway, I found The Streak to be very interesting as I wolfed down countless wieners, but unfortunately I got there as he was on his way out. Recently, I told S-bomb that I thought we should hang out again and she liked this idea.  So she brought him to our gig last night.  Btw, here's a pic someone took of us last night, which only confirms my hypothesis that it is virtually IMPOSSIBLE for me to look remotely attractive/normal while singing.  Which I find very very annoying.  So, thank GOODNESS I had TWO potentials there watching me last night. [Please read that with sarcasm].  
Anyway, we had a great show and packed the house.  I never drink before a show, but always enjoy a hearty celebration afterwards.  So the party was on and we were all having a blast.  Although I was running back and forth, making up all kinds of weird excuses to both zee German and The Streak. I can only assume both must think I have an Overactive Bladder condition and/or IBS at this point, for the amount of times I said I had to go to the bathroom.  Anyway, zee German is definitely a hot piece of schnitzel.  But I'm not sure how well we click in the personality department.  For instance, in the mayhem after the show, he was standing by me at the bar as BFWB and another dude friend were acting up.  So I started yelling some insult at them, per the norm.  Zee German then looks at me and goes "Are you drunk?"  To which I replied, "No, I'm just loud."  Geez!  Luckily, The Streak is one of the first guys I've spent time with lately that can keep up with the witty banter and sarcasm.  And that really rings my bell.  Everyone left and The Streak ended up staying out with me and my beloved Jendel who's been in town from LA for work this past week. He decided to accompany us to my fave, Meatball Shop, for some MUCH needed late night grubbin'.  That has to mean something, right? He even walked us back to my apt after, as we were nearing the 2am hour (ouch!).  Jendel, attempting to be not awky, dashed inside ahead of me to give us "private time." [Totes awky] But we did a digit exchange and he proceeded to text me his whole cab ride back to Brookland. My fave text was "My cab driver is listening to Kelly Clarkson. Kill me."  Not gonna lie, I'm kinda into this guy.  But, before I get ahead of myself, let's just see if homeboy decides to contact me in a timely fashion.  I'm optimistic.  
At least more optimistic than I am about surviving what my trainer is about to do to me at the gym tonight.  Oh, how I wish I could click my heels and be under my covers right now.... 

LESSON:  If you want to juggle well, make sure you've been to the circus enough times...

Dating Story #14, a Foreign Affair

Guttentag, lovlies! 


Shall we sprechen about Friday night?
I finally secured a date with an online guy I'd been chatting with for quite awhile now and a couple of other dates we had set up had fallen through.  I liked what he had to say, not to mention the fact that he's 6'4, a former pro tennis player and seemingly HOT in his pics.  I had quickly tired of this back and forth, so I finally texted him one day:
ME:  "I promise you won't regret meeting me. And, that's not cocky, just confident."
HIM:  "Yes it is cocky and I like it!"
->Ladies:  Let this be a lesson in the importance of confidence (or at least the appearance of it) and self-PR.  
So, I met zee German Friday night for drinks on the LES.  He was just as good-looking as his pics and had cool style. Definitely very euro-sexual, but cool.  He proceeded to tell me that I was only his 4th online date and the other 3 explain why he was hesitant to go out with me.  Let's just say one turned out to be an exotic dancer and the other...a Trannie.  A shim. A dude looks like a lady.   Poor, poor guy!  
So zee German and I had a nice time chatting over several beers. He's very smart, ambitious, AA (yay!) and has traveled and lived all around the world.  Definitely an interesting guy, just not sure if that "spark" is there. But I'd definitely be willing to give it another date to find out.  OH- and he Facebook'd me on saturday.  Maybe this is his profile pic: 

Um....WHAT!


Yeah, color me intimidated.  I'm doing butt squeezes as I write this just to try to keep up with that.  Yowza!


So the night ended with a friendly hug and cheek kiss (hence me wondering about the "spark") and a mutual desire to hang out again.  We'll see.  You might think my night ended here.  But, it did not.  I walked into my lobby only to see that Gramercy had been texting me about meeting up for a drink.  Since I had only met Gramercy on my webchat that one time, I figured it was time to get this over with.  So, even though I was pretty tipsy, I agreed to meet him for ONE drink.  He is definitely cute, and a tall, dare I say burly, type of guy. Proof? He PICKED ME UP like I was a feather. Why? I really can't recall, but I'm sure it was on topic. And, being 5'9, I don't get picked very often so it's very strange for me.   Gramercy moved in for the kill almost 15 minutes into our meeting up-- I guess he counted our video chat as a first date?  Not a bad smoocher, but I was like "Dude, chill out. Let's talk."  Then I remembered why I don't like this guy. He's arrogant, narcissistic and really not that funny.  But you know what IS funny?  After awhile I noticed him doing something strange so I asked if he had the hiccups.  He then informed me it was actually a tick brought on by lack of sleep or excessive drinking.  Now, I'm never one to make fun of things that people can't physically control.  But the fact that this guy was pretty much a total douche-b made it almost seem karmic! Seriously, it is HARD to ignore. At one point I really thought he was going into cardiac arrest!!  And, seeing as I hadn't brought my defibulators with me, I figured it was time to bid Gramercy adieu.


Lesson:  If it seems like a douche, and acts like a douche...yeah, you get it. 

My Bizarre Un-love Triangle

Happy FRIDAY, Glamazons!!!!


I've had a very interesting week, to say the least.  It was loaded with concerts, a stomach bug, and bestie Jendel in town staying with me all during it.


An incident occurred whilst at Florence & The Machine at Terminal 5, my worst enemy of a venue.  It's huge, always oversold (therefore always a crowded shite-show), not to mention it's on 56th street and appx 85th avenue. [Read: Far effing west.  Like falling-in-the-Hudson-almost-in-Jerz WEST].  Yet, they get all the best bands. So, like a moron, I keep going. And, Tuesday night was PAAACKED to see Flo and her machines. Also, Flo in her leotard, cape and crown.   

I was with BFWB who said she reminded him of a fairy and My Little Pony.  He was pretty correct.  He was also correct in warning me to not attend this show since my stomach had been killing me for FOUR days.  I figured I could stand still and watch a spectacular show for an hour and survive. I thought wrong.  Cut to me telling BFWB that I needed to leave. Cut to that being my last memory before I woke up on the floor. Of T5. Surrounded by a schmillion people.  Oops.  Thank GOD for BFWB, who is my hero and basically saved my life by making people move so he could get me out of there.  Once out, I was fine, except for my left foot which someone must've stepped on. Who knows.  I'm happy to be alive, happy my parents don't read this blog, and happy my doctor (and x-rays) all say I'm fine.
So...the next night I had tix to see The Duke Spirit, a little-known Brit band I've loved for years, introduced to me by my Ex-hubs who had excellent taste in music [and not much else]. I'm totes 'cessed with their lead singer, Leila Moss.  

Despite the trauma of the night before, I was feeling pretty good (except for my club-foot) and figured this was a small venue, near my apt, so if anything went wrong bad, I could just peace out. As my friend Mitz and I were working our way up closer, I felt good about things. The venue was small, not packed. All seemed well. Until I looked right and saw Champ, my scorned ex-boyfriend that I broke up with this summer. He was a decent distance away, but I could clearly see him.  Which I figured meant he could clearly see ME.  We went through a lot of bad stuff recently, him trying to get answers, him trying to understand things, and him doing a lot of what I like to call "taking a dump in my inbox."  This is when someone writes an emotional monologue of an e-mail and leaves it waiting for you to open like a stinky diaper bomb.  It's neat-o.  Although he had an "epiphany" recently and seems to have mellowed out about things and been nicer.  SO- I decided to shoot him a text so it wouldn't be totally awky in case we actually ended up running into each other on the way out.  I texted him asking if he was at Duke Spirit and playfully wrote "I think I seeee yoooou...."  I watched him receive this message and write me back, yet instead of saying he saw me, to inform me that Ex-hubs was ALSO there. Hot diggitity DAMN!  Hello, Bizarre Un-Love Triangle. How we all ended up at this tiny venue to see this random band may appear random, but actually, we were all there because Ex-hubs introduced me to this band and I introduced Champ. Ex-hubs doesn't usually go out that much, but it would only make sense for him to be there since tickets were $5.  That's about as much as he would deem pretty much anything in life to be worth.  Fun, huh?!  
I could've lingered and watched it all play out, but I decided enough drama had unfolded that week and it was time to Michael Bolt-on outta there.  Bummer too because, as my friend Mitz pointed out, there were tons of cute, AA guys there! 
{sigh}
Aaaaand...forward march onto the next--which will be tonight!  Date with a seemingly hot, tall, former tennis-pro with a German accent.  NBD, right?

Dating Story #13, a lesson in Halloween: the GREATEST pick-up night of life.

Oh, Halloween.  You sexy beast!
I'm sure I've heard throughout the years that Halloween is a great night to be single, but seeing as I have not been single on Halloween since 2001, I guess I forgot.  I don't think I ever will again.  Not that I'm ever inhibited, or afraid to go up and talk to pretty much any guy, but a Halloween costume is an INSTANT way in.  A ready-made conversation starter.  I mean Halloween should really happen at least THREE times a year!

I was weighing my options for what to do that night and nothing seemed to appealing, until I got invited to see a band. Yes, it was out in Brookland.  BUT- the concert?  Mr. Brownstone, "the world's drunkest tribute to Guns n' Roses."  IN!


And, even though it was a ton of my couple'd friends going, I said I'd be delighted to be the 13th wheel.  Luckily (for me), Ay informed me she broke up with her bf and needed Halloween plans STAT. I told her I was fairly certain an inebriated Axl look-alike was scientifically proven to be a break-up cure, so she hauled her cookies in from Philly to wing-woman me.  But what would she wear?  No worries, Ay. I have costumes stored up for just such emergencies.

Cue Delinquent Cheerleader and her friend, Trailer Trash! *I'd like you to also note that I've had both of these outfits since high school. Thanks.


We had a blast at the show and befriended many a stranger.  Ay feared her white T get-up and intermittent hair rollers may hinder any gentleman callers, but a certain hot Ghostbuster dispelled that worry early on.  
Then, it was my turn to make a friend. He was rockin' out next to us and somehow he and I got involved in making paper airplanes out of giant faux $100 bills and launching them into the crowd. Talk about an ice-breaker!  We'll call this one Slick. I should mention that it's also kind of bizarre to meet someone for the first time when wearing a black wig, goth makeup, cheerleader outfit and fishnets, but apparently that was all working for Slick. Yet certain worries arise, ie. what if he doesn't like me without the wig or hoochie hose?  Luckily the vat of beer I undoubtedly downed over the course of the night made me quickly not care. And get this- Slick is AA!  Can y'all believe it?!  He's 39. Of course he's also a smidge lacking in the height department, but he's smart, hilarious and actually knows how to kiss a girl!  HALLELUJAH, the repugnant kisser streak is broken!!! 
After the show, Slick joined me and Ay to bar hop on the LES.  And...maybe we passed by 'inoteca and maybe I stalked Teca a little bit. I usually don't even allow myself to look in when I walk by there, so he doesn't think I'm some crazy psychostalker, but Halloween night, incognito in a wig and cheerleader outfit? Yeah, I pretty much STARED into that window.  I don't think I saw him, but it was just nice to have the option to stalk without getting caught.
After traipsing through several awful bars, we moved our trip back to my apt for a dance party.  Oh, and after Slick smooched me in one of the bars, he held my hand for the whole night.  It was sweet. During our dance party, I removed my wig to test the waters, but luckily Slick was still buyin' what I was sellin'.  Ay passed out on the couch in half her white T costume, which was quite hilarious when she woke up that way.  And...Slick and I had a lil' slumber party/spoon-fest and it was really quite lovely. Especially when when he woke up and exclaimed "Holy hangover, Batman!"  If you can make my cranky-ass laugh in the morning, you are doing something very right.  And, my whole family and every roommate I've ever had can attest.
I'd have loved to sleep the day away but I had to drag myself to a good friend's bday brunch on the UWS.   Wanna know the only thing worse than the subway + a hangover?  The subway + hangover + live mariachis.  

¡Aye dios mios!




Lesson:  Always be single on Halloween.