Monday, January 31, 2011

Dating story #37, from Atlantic to Pacific, boys are stupid.

....and we're BACK. Back in the giant, non-cherry flavored Slushee that is New York City.  
But, it's totally fine. I mean, I was getting soo sick of seeing THIS out my window every day:
Do you like how I got all "artsy" with that shot and decided to use a Dutch angle?  See how LA/warm weather is already nurturing my obviously burgeoning photography skillz???  Sigh...
But really, it's fine.  Who wants to have a work day like THIS?
Certainly not THIS girl! No, I am, like, SO totally over it.  So lets give you the MANdate status, shall we?!


STATUS: MAGICALLY FLAKE-TASTIC
In my last post, I mentioned how it looked like SoCal and I were going to have a fun west-coast slumber party date at my hotel since we overlapped in LA for one night.  I was really looking forward to it, although over the weekend, he did something reeeally shady.  I'm not ready to speak about it yet, but when I do...oooh, yeah. You're not going to believe it. [Cryptic, I know. Sorry.] But, he apologized for it and I'm not one to hold a grudge. Plus, things can get so confusing via text and we haven't been able to see each other for 3 weeks, so I was giving it all the benefit of the doubt. [One of my best and/or worst qualities.]  
So I was getting geared up for our little rendezvous when I was informed at dinner Wednesday night that all flights out of NYC were cancelled due to yet another blizzard.  I have been amazingly fortunate enough to have missed THREE blizzards and a few days of single-digit temps.  But, seriously- what the HELL is up with this winter?  I'm starting to get the feeling that the Universe hates NYC.  I'm also getting the feeling that SoCal and I are not meant to hang out. Ever.  And, based on the shady things that went down, maybe it's a good idea?  So, I waited on Thursday to hear if he made it out but assumed he didn't based on the fact that NYC pretty much shut down, and also, because his FB page told me.  SIDEBAR: Don't become FB friends with a guy you're seeing/dating/etc prematurely.  It's just a bad idea.
So, not being able to hold out any longer, I shot him a text saying "Guessing you're snowed in, huh?" To which he answered that it looked that way, and that was pretty much the end of comm. Ok, I'm sure he was pissed to be missing his big snowboarding trip. But was it wrong that I also hoped for requests from him to hang out since he could look on the bright side that he was stuck in NYC for the weekend but at least I was coming back? Clearly said requests were not sent, and I figured I'd just wait and see what happened when I returned.
After being bitch-slapped in the face by the cold, slushy snow-grossness upon landing in NYC Friday night, I trudged my roughly 80lb suitcase over a snowbank and grumpily set up shop on my couch.  I posted on FB "It's icy and and cold and I wish I had a warm dog to cuddle with. Why aren't there rental services for that?"  Two minutes later, our good friend The Streak sent me two links of places called "Rent-a-pet." I am APPALLED and HORRIFIED this service actually does exist, but that's another story for another time.
I decided to drink a lot of wine [while I whined] and watched bad TV. 


STATUS: STILL LINGERING
The Chef then checked in with me and asked if I wanted company, and since I was feeling lonely and sans rental dog, I gave him the greenlight.  I'm sure he came over looking for some action. What he got was me passing out on his shoulder. Poor poor lil' Cheffie!  But he is a really sweet guy and there seems to be no pressure from him, so I see no need to cut the cord just yet...
-->And now, a brief SoCal intermission!<--
The Chef had to leave early for work Saturday morning, so after he left I checked my phone.  Text from SoCal at 7:35a: "Doggie cuddling services available here. ;)"
Aha, so he does look at my FB page. Interesting.
I texted back about an hour later and we had some funny banter. Which led him to this text at approx 8:37a:
"Wanna come over? Unfortunately I only have until about 10:30a this morning, reserved a car to go run some errands."
I responded that I really appreciated the offer but maybe we could hang out another time when it's not 8am and I don't have to fit into your little 1.5 hour window. W.T.F dude???
He wrote back a frowny face (ladies, how do we feel about emoticons from guys? I'm really on the fence here). He said he understood and had just made the rez, but cuddle services would be available to me another time when better for me.
I thanked him for this generous raincheck.  And, because he is a huge music fan like me, told him I was going to see a band at Bowery Ballroom that night if he was interested. His response: "That could be fun. Let's talk later and see."
Oookay. Obvi he didn't have a date or he would've said he had plans. Clearly, this is a case of something I just learned about called BBO: Bigger better offer. He must've been waiting to see if anything better presented itself, and it must have, as I haven't heard from him since.
NEW STATUS: DISLIKE, BORDERING ON HATE.


But I went to the show with BFWB and friends and we had an absolute blast!  So, screw you SoCal, and your little dog TOO!


STATUS: BACK!
So, after not really talking much with Drummer Boy post-holidays, he's made an interesting return!  Let's be very clear about Drummer Boy's position in the line-up: He's for APO. [see glossary]  But I will say that he serves his purpose well. And, he's sweet, pretty frickin' hot, and seems to think I am too. Easy, breezy, nice n' please-y. He is definitely a good one to keep around for a cold and lonely night. Which is exactly what happened late last night/this morning. Ah, it's good to be back!
And now, what should be BY FAR the best part of this MANdate.


STATUS: TERMINATED 
Yes, you've been waiting for it and the time has finally come.  I knew this would have to happen, but I was absolutely DREADING it. Almost Doc had harassed me with half a dozen phone calls [unanswered] while I was in LA. He finally resorted to a few typo'd texts which I sort of answered. I figured I'd just wait until he started call-bombing me once I returned to end this madness. Then he texted me late last night: "What's going on here" and "R we packing it in?" I thought this may have been the perfect opp for me to take the wuss way out and text back that I thought he was fun and cool [lie and LIE!] but that I just didn't see it going anywhere from here.  Of course, he was not about to let me off that easy and began text-bombing me and tried to call. I couldn't pick up because my friend Kels was over and I needed to leave, so I told him I agreed that it was wrong to text him and I would call when back from family din with MIM and friends. Kels then made the amazingly funny and astute comment: "It's like you're on the Bachelorette--only the guys don't realize they're contestants!" UH-maaazing.
Without further ado, here's a rough transcript of our call tonight:
ME: Look, I think you're sweet and fun [lie, lie!] and I've had a good time with you [lie!] but I just don't really see this going anywhere from here. 
HIM: "What did I do wrong?"
ME: [in my head] "What didn't you do wrong??"
ME: [in reality]: "Oh nothing really [lie!], I just think it's more of the age difference/maturity thing.
HIM: "Oh. Did you think I wanted a serious relationship? I didn't."
**cut to 5 mins later in phone call after me explaining things he could improve on. [his request]
HIM: "Lindsey, I don't understand. I like you. I want to BE with you. I want to take this thing to the next level!"
ME: "You do realize you've completely just contradicted yourself, right?"
HIM: "I guess. So...we really can't hang out anymore?"
ME: "What would be the point? I'm at the age/stage where I'm really looking for someone to be with and I don't want to waste my time or anyone else's if I'm not feeling it. I'm not getting any younger."
HIM: "Well I'd be happy for you to bear my children. And I think you'd be a great mother to them."
[Sure, this all seems very normal to say to someone you've been on 3.5 dates with and known for a month.]
**cut to 5 mins later, after I explained I would not be bearing his children.
HIM: "So, how was my physique for you? Did you like it or think I need to be in better shape? I used to be more chiseled..."
ME: "You're fine."
HIM: "What about intimately? How did you find all that to be? Was I able to satisfy you?"
PUKE. ON. SHOES.
After choking back the chunks slowly rising up in my throat, I told him I had an early morning and had to go. I swear, I think I may have heard him sniffle...


Dear God and/or Match.com,
Please refrain from sending me any more of these people who appear to be normal but are, in actuality, one banana short from flinging their own feces inside a cage.  
Thanks much,
Lindsey


I do have another pretty amusing story from the West Coast, but this is long and you have to be hoping it's over soon. I know I'd like to be put out of my misery.  Well, at least for one night. 
To be continued....!





Wednesday, January 26, 2011

MANdate, west coast activity.

Well, in true LA style, I've been trying to detox.  
But in my case, it hasn't really been a Blueprint kind of thing, although I HAVE done a lot more working out and eating quasi-healthier. Something about this place just makes me want to, as opposed to winter in NYC which makes me want to stuff my face with as many hot, fried and tomato-y carbs as I possibly can.  Um...why haven't I moved out here yet?


Anyway, I've actually been attempting to Man-tox while out here.  You know, clear my head a bit and not be consumed by things.  And it's been pretty good so far!
I'm obsessed with the sunsets from my room.
  
Bestie Jendel and I did the Mount Hollywood hike over the weekend.  
I swear we were closer than this! Dumb camera phone makes things look farther away.


But alas, there has been a bit of Man-tivity going on, so let's get to it, shall we?


Almost Doc Calls FREQUENTLY. Never leaves a message.  Finally sent me a text today that said "Whats up?"  No wait- actually, it said "Whqts up."  I wrote back I was working. He txted back "Hows it foing."  
REALLY?  You can't take an extra 1 second to make sure your 2-3 word comm to me isn't typo'd and stupid?  UGH.  I need to eliminate him, I know, I know.  But I don't feel like it's right to suddenly up and do it from LA. Right? Bleeegh. [that's me, not wanting to deal.]


 If you recall, after SoCal bailed on our date before he left because he was sick, I challenged him to see if he really even cared about seeing me again, and he said that he did.  So I figured we'd see when I return.  
This past saturday, I woke up to a text from him "Hey sunshine, when do you get back from LA? I'm actually going to be there Thursday."
INTERESTING!
I informed him I was leaving Friday, and he was excited about the overlap.  Turns out, he is going snowboarding in Mammoth this Friday and, when I asked where he was staying Thurs night, he said he'd probably be couch surfing.  So, being the nice (and, ok, somewhat-in-need-of-some spooning) girl I am, I told him he was welcome to stay at my hotel with me that night.  I mean, we have had several slumber parties before, so it's not a huge deal.  He was very excited about this idea [duh. I mean, couch-tasticness or ME + a luxury hotel. yeah.] So as far as I know, that's what's going down on Thursday night. Funny, we can't seem to meet up for a date in NYC where we BOTH LIVE, but looks like we're going to have a small, random getaway in LA.
Oh, I also sent him this picture of my "hard" workday yesterday, with the caption "hope you're enjoying those 7 degrees."
He quickly wrote back "mmmm....I want to see up higher on those sexy legs!"  Interesting how a text with a slight pic of a body part [I mean it's FEET. EW.] can illicit a 2 min later reply text.  Otherwise, I usually get them in 24 hour stretches. Tres uncool, btw.  I'm gonna have to let homeboy know about that too if the right moment arises.  No more of this! Nobody texts Baby in the corner!!  hmm...not sure that modern adaptation worked? [just pretend it did and keep reading]


Ah, the Chef. Ya know, I've kinda missed him a little!  At least he LIKES me, doesn't overwhelm me with calls/texts, and he's yet to ask me about how long I "shed" for on my cycle, so he's got that going for him too. It's the little things...  And, although I was just kidding about that, I would like to take this moment to say that the Chef has nothing to do with "little things." Yes, I mean what you think I mean. W-O-W.  
Maybe I texted him the same beach pic for efficiency and quality control purposes.  He wrote [in the middle of the vampire nighttime] that I should bring that warmth back and hurry because it's Restaurant Week.  I said that was a good idea since he owes me a dinner [it's true. he does], so he said early next week.  And, I've decided to hold out for a "real" date in Datesville with him, instead of just settling for Meet-up town, USA.







 Someone asked the other day "What happened to The Streak?"  EXCELLENT question, reader.  The fact is, nothing has happened to or WITH the Streak except for some extreme pen-pal action.  Lots of twittering, Facebook commenting and G-chatting, but that's mostly it.  Wow, just reading all those things I wrote about my comm with him made me step back and say "Oooh this is SO not an adult relationship."  Yeah, that's a maj bummer since I think he's mad hilarious and smart.  Even though he claims to really like me, I just haven't seen the effort or any action for that matter, so that's pretty much where we're at.  He was actually up for editing the job I'm out here in LA shooting but it ended up going to another editor. Now THAT could have made for some excellent stories here!  Oh well.  You win some, you...get only non-verbal comm.  Yipee skippy.


El Señor?  No bueno.  No call-o or text-o.  Thinkin' it's dunzo.



Drummer Boy:  BACK from dormancy!  MIM was right- they DO always come
back. In this case, color me mega-surprized to hear from him in a random text the night before I left (figures.) He's a musician, hot, great body and dumb as drumsticks.  But still not a bad one to keep around in the Line-up.

Ok, that's it for now because my confused eyelids are heaaaavy.....daaam....you...time....changeeee........

Friday, January 21, 2011

MANdate: Leaving some crazy behind.

Ready for a quickie? 
[I mean a quick update. Gutter-minds!]


Well, I'd be lying if I didn't admit that my job can often have its perks.  For instance, having this as your view:
Or, running along the beach with this as your backdrop:
Especially when all your friends and fave peeps are dealing with the frozen tundra that is currently NYC.  Yep, I'm pretty much ELATED right now.


'member how the night before I left I was supposed to have a date with SoCal, but had a feeling he was going to flake?  I should really be a psychic.
I waited and waited for him to reach out first, mostly out of principal, but finally reached my limit where I also wanted to plan my night. So I texted him.  But he had actually responded to something I wrote him on FB about a band he saw at the exact same time.  He said he was definitely getting sick and hadn't gone to work that day, and didn't want to get me sick before my trip.  Fine, fine.  But, as MIM pointed out, "Um...even sick people can tell people they're sick and not making plans for the eve." Touché!  This suitor is not really measuring up so far.  So why do I even care?  I'll get back to you when I figure that confusion out.  He did ask when I was returning and if he could see me then.  I decided to bust out a can o' honesty on him:
ME:  "Back end of next week but...do you even WANT to hang again? Seriously, I like honesty."
SoCal: "Yes, I do, SERIOUSLY."
Okaaay...all evidence to the semi-contrary, but it's nice to get a straight answer and also give someone an out.  Maybe by the time I return, he'll have sampled the entire 99 cent menu and be ready to start dealing with some lobster [aka ME.]
So I figured I'd have a nice night to myself, drink a little wine and enjoy one of the SAG movie screeners that had so thoughtfully showed up in my mailbox.  Of course, Almost Doc called 3x to see if I "wanted to see him," to which I responded a) wrong question. Here's what you say: "Lindsey, I'd like to see you before you leave town." b) no thanks, I'm tired and have to pack.  Ugh.  He maybe also called me at 6:40a LA time this morning.  Luckily, I always mute my phone out here for reasons just like this.  But I did send him an email reminding him that I'm 3 hours behind and maybe I also implied that he woke me up.  Wow.  "Not really that interested" has quickly turned to "kind of loathe" with this one. I was hoping it would just kind of fizzle out during this trip, but I can see I'm going to have to take some kind of action here.  Advice??


In lieu of douche-canoe Almost Doc visiting, the Chef had reached out to see if he could bid me "fairwell."  I told him he could bid me "farewell" if he wanted, but I was drinking wine and watching The Social Network and had no plans to stop even if he came over.  He was [obvs] fine with this, and in typical Vampire Chef style, didn't make it over till about 12a anyway.  He DID actually dole out his first compliment about my appearance, which was refreshing.  We talked about my trip and he asked how long I would be gone for.  I told him and then he answered:
the Chef:  "Man, what am I gonna do without you here ALL weekend?"
to which I thoughtlessly replied [out loud]
ME: "Um, do we really even hang out that often?" 
Whoopsie! Maybe that didn't sound so nice?  But now that it appears that I am probs the only chick in his life currently, I'm thinking I may need to manage some expectations here.  As in, you're barely 25, I'm over 30. 
You work in a restaurant and stay up all night, I work during the daytime and only stay up half the night [due to insomnia and idiocy]. 
I think you're a fun guy to randomly hang out with, You maybe think I'm your betrothed. 
You most likely had whooping cough and didn't see a doctor since you have no health insurance, I have health insurance and see a doctor if I get a hangnail.
Aw man...now I need help with TWO let-downs!  Faaaaahk.


Well, I'll have to think about that later. Off to take a disco nap before heading out. Hope you have a fantabulous weekend, pretty pretties!

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Happy Humpy Day + a MANdate!

Hellooooo out there!  
And for realsies, THANK YOU soo much for being out there!
I have been loving all your comments lately and, since I'm semi-blogtarded, I don't know how to respond to them or if you even get them. So, just know that I GET THEM and love reading your thoughts, opinions and advice.  
Also, a few of you have sheepishly said you "stalk my blog." Um, isn't that the point? I'm putting my senseless, manic drivel out there for y'all to read, so the fact that you actually ARE has me tickled like a cacti.  Yeeehaw! Wow I'm so Southern today...  Maybe it's just because I'm fairly excited, seeing as NYC looks like this:
And, Santa Monica, where I'll be for 9 days:

That's right. SUCK IT, winter.  
Okay who am I, Al Roker?  Enough of the weather. On to our MANdate. Lemme just break it down for you [with icons. because, they're fun]:
I was pretty sure SoCal has So-long'd. I sent him a txt asking about his last wknd snowboarding trip last tues night and he txted me back- 24 hours later. He did say the snow screwed up his trip back, so maybe he was traveling, but still, I've seen homeboy-- he's constantly on his phone. The issue with him (well, one of them) is that he's a Match guy and he's fairly new to it, so he's like a fat kid at McDonald's right now, ordering everything on the menu. I have a feeling he'll be back; "They always come back," as MIM says, but whatevs. If you don't realize I'm a sparkling gem and take advantage of that, laterz dude.
That said, he gets one more chance tonight when we are supposed to have a date.  I'm hoping our "ships passing in the night" travel sitch has been the main hangup, since I still see so much potential in him. But, he's also gonna get some truth laid on him from me. As in, if you like me at all and want to keep seeing me, I'm gonna need some consistency. Not a lot. Just more than this. And, I think I'm worth it. Hell, I KNOW I am. Who the eff isn't? And, good luck getting that kind of honesty from a 23 year old, if that's who you're currently dabbling with. (No offense to any 23 year olds out there! But he's 35 and it's just not fair for you to be stealing the AA guys from me.)
Sidenote: while he did take me on the creative (albeit freezing and
gastrointestinal issue-laden) ice skating date, he's yet to take me to an
actual meal and, he's also yet to actually CALL me.

Almost Doc, however, loooves to call. I can't always/don't always answer so I usually text him back. Hilarious, he never responds to those! Just calls.  Oh, did I mention, as he had a death-grip on my hand over our last dinner, we were discussing my upcoming 9-day biz trip to LA. 
He ainformed me he's off next week [aka available to join me??!] and b) he's "going to miss me SO much." Oh dear god, I think I just almost vomited on my keyboard as I typed that. WHY am I still enabling this relationship? Ew. Must. Stop.
BFWB and I saw PRINCE, time #2 last night and it RULED once again. The Chef and I were texting periodically during the night  and continued as I got home and began some prelim packing for LA at 1am. [totes normal in Lindsey-land]. He then invited me to meet him for a drink "later on" if I was so inclined. Um...hi, vampire Chef. In an hour it will be 2:30a. On a Tuesday. (Ok technically Weds). Yeeeah, some people have to, you know, work during NORMAL hours. Hellooo-o! Oh well, at least it's amusing. Damn service industry. Haven't I learned anything yet? 
And last, El Señor. I found out he's currently in LA and staying at a literally across the street from where I will be staying. ¡DANGER! But, possibly also, fun.  Ah...who the hey-sus knows what it is.  


I'm kinda thinking LA might be a good opportunity for me to get those "coffee beans" I've been looking for. [I recently posted that I feel about the current Line-Up of menfolk the way I sometimes feel when I go to Sephora. You smell so many perfumes, and then you can't smell ANYTHING.] I could use a good head-clearing [and a nice facial, now that I look in the mirror. Oh, hey there dead, dry skin cells] to gain some perspective and see how I feel.  
Scratch the whole line-up? Perhaps.  
But, maybe that's too rash.  Let's just see what goes down. 
And, let's see if SoCal mans up tonight...fingers n' toes [loosely] crossed!


Back to you soon from the Left Coast. Fab-a-dabba-dooo!

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Dating story #34-36, a passionate Latino, a flake, a bailer, and a fixer-upper.

Hello, my pretties!  Miss me?
Sorry for the sabbatical but I was out there collecting more MISadventures for you.  And boy do have a few!
#34- Friday night
We have a new addition to The Line-Up. Ladies and gents, I bring you:
Aka Facebook picker-upper.  Yes, he "friended me" right before X-mas and explained that he saw me in some of my agency's holiday party pics.  This is a GOOD thing, as that was one of those nights where you try to look good and actually succeed. He then noticed that we went to rival high schools in San Antonio, Tx. He also works in the ad biz as a copywriter which is another bonus for me.  So I said maybe we'd meet up after work one day post-holidays for a drink.  And, he did a great job of checking in periodically and keeping tabs on me.  I then realized it would probably be a good idea to do a quick "background" check on him from one of our mutual FB friends. Mainly, in addition to confirming he's not an ax-murderer, I needed to check on his height. Obvs. So, I checked with fab gal pal Dbots who gave the greenlight on height and also added [repeatedly]: "Two words: Soccer. Body."
Also confirmed by many of his pics-- hello, Señor workout-o mucho!
So, we set Friday night as our date and decided to stay in our mutual hood [double-bonus!] the LES.  We then began texting.  After a phone call with a bestie, I randomly posted her wonderful quote on my FB status last week: "Real men call."  The woman-support and feedback was pretty staggering on that one!  Clearly, El Señor stalks my page frequently as he then texted me this: "Real men call. But tactful men know WHEN to call.  I will call you Friday to discuss our date. Until then, we text."  HA!  I'm intrigued by this guy and looking forward to meeting.  He then calls me on Friday afternoon-- I answer the phone and swear Antonio Banderas is speaking back to me.  This causes me to exclaim: "¡You have an acento!"  I was not expecting that. Apparently, he's Mexican.  I have (no offense) never met a tall Mexican man, and I'm from a predominately Hispanical city. The plot thickens.  
mmm...crunchy!
He picks a cool place I've never been [hard to do!], Casa Mezcal.  He's definitely good-looking, in a "slightly aboriginal" way [MIM's words]. Tall? Almost.  Barely pushing 5'11.  But I'm willing to work with it.  And besides, he's taken me to a place that comes with complimentary fried grasshoppers on the bar. 
So, how does El Señor stack up?  Well, we had a really fun time.  He's definitely an interesting hombre.  But something was a little off.  He's got a little of the ever-popular "word vomit" that so many seem to have. You know, no thinky before you talky talky?  Yeah. I'm not really sure what to do with that. What I WILL say is that my new amigo moved in for a beso at our second drink location and it was MUY BUENO! Damn those Latinos and their caliente passion.  This confuses me as I have not kissed a good kisser in a fortnight and so now I can't tell if I like this guy or I just like kissing him.  I suppose time [and a second date] will tell.  Oh, and speaking of time, I got home at 5a that night. Oopsie!
#35- Saturday night
   Our dear old friend, SoCal returned from his vacation and finally decided to text me back. TWENTY-FOUR HOURS after I texted him. Maybe that's normal for some, but every time we've hung out, he is very on top of his phone whenever it blows up. So...yeah. Not cool. Yet every time I start to assume he's not that into it anymore, I'll get a text from him.  And that happened on Thursday.  He asked me "When do I get to see you and hear you sing?" I did some quick thinking and realized I could bring him to BFWB's potluck dinner party saturday night.  And, there will ALWAYS be singing at a BFWB event. So I invited him.  He said "Grrr...I have tentative plans Sat night.  Can I try to get out of them and let you know?"  I obliged, even though I obvi assumed "tentative plans" meant "other date."  See, SoCal is a Match.com guy and inevitably still experiencing the initial allure of People Shopping. Sigh. So on Friday afternoon, still not having heard from him on whether he was in or not, I was forced to inquire.  He wrote back instantly, apologizing for not letting me know sooner ['busy at work'] but he was unable to make it Saturday night.  He did ask when I was leaving for my upcoming LA business trip and how long I'd be gone, so I gave him said information.  No response for days.  But heard from him today, so WTF dude??  We set up a date for Weds night before I leave, where he's about to get a nice dose o' truth from the Linz about being more "consistent" moving fwd if he's interested in continuing to see me.  Grow up, dumb dumb. The Chef is 10 years younger than you and knows the importance of frequent "maintenance." 
   Moving on, The Streak was gchatting me all day and it occurred to me he'd be a super-fun party date.  So he got the sloppy seconds invite.  And, accepted! Yaysies.  I even started to get a bit 'cited because he is really fun and can hang with any group of people.  He did say he couldn't have a late night because of an early morning shoot on Sunday, but I was cool with that. Especially because The Chef was already asking to meet up after he got off of work that night anyway.  So Saturday as I was prepping my deeelish pear and honey sesame dressing with spicy walnuts salad [whoop whoop!], I decided to text The Streak to remind him of time and address.  I instantly got a text back: "Ah, shit. I am totally broken and not going to make it back into the city tonight. Sorry to bail like this. Early call tomorrow, going to hide out. Play soon?"
Yeah. Soon my ass. UGH.  It's like I'm dating the 7 demented dwarves, featuring:
Flaky.
Bail-y.
and
No Filter-y.
Alas, the evening was a huge bowl o' fun, no mens necessary!  Truly an enchanted evening at BFWB's, and as our jam session was in full swing, something propelled BFWB to run into his room and return with this:
That's right, ladies. A flute.
I have never been so entertained.  And, The Chef decided to make a late-night appearance and was a nice compliment to the evening.  I no longer fear he things I'm his gf, and I'm just enjoying when we hang out because it is usually really fun.  He just has soooo much to learn and I have soooo little desire to teach. But some advice I can give The Chef: Cook for me, bitch, and I'll probably stick around longer. {Oh dear god, am I a dude?}

#36- Sunday night
And now we finally arrive at the end of our weekend, which culminated in a date with Almost Doc.  It was supposed to be a football-watching date, but he also bailed on that [seriously?] and asked if we could do dinner instead.  I obliged and he took me to sushi.  In Almost Doc's favor:
-He actually CALLS me. Frequently. [perhaps too frequently?]
-He has taken me on an actual dinner date, TWICE.
-He showers me in compliments and may be prematurely in love with me.
Okay, that last part was not in his favor. But I think [fear?] he really likes me. Like, a LOT.  Why am I not jumping for future doctor's wife joy here?  Meh.
This one needs SO much training, I just can't wrap my head around it.  
-Constantly saying inappropriate things.  
-Rushing things with me like he's trying to get down the aisle.  
-Prematurely calling me "baby." 
-Used words "make love" the other night. [Vomit. In. Mouth. x 1000]
-Asked me if I was on the pill and followed it up by asking how many days I "shed" for.  
Here is the place where some people in the medical profession have lost total track of the line between right and oh-so-wrong.
Soooo.....yeeeeeah.  I don't know what to do. With ANY of them really.  I am very glad this business trip is coming up, merely so I can let some of these situations fizzle like an Alka-Seltzer on a bad hangover day.

Stay tuned for:  
-an updated Line-up Flowchart
-a full report on Weds night's upcoming SoCal date
-Lindsey running away to join a convent and/or trying my hand at lesbianism, as it is surely easier and closer than nunnery.



Thursday, January 13, 2011

Dating story #33, ...and when it pours, it snows.

-Monday's dinner party: delightful.
-Yesterday at work: painful. 
Oh so utterly, totally, hungoverly painful.  But that's what you get.  So imagine my delight at the prospect of a snow day off of work, due to the impending "Snowpocalypse"/"Snomageddon" the news was hyping to the max.  Ah, what I'd do for a nice, free, middle-of-the-week day of rest.  But of course, no guarantees with a snow day. And our agency doesn't let us know until the day of if we're shutting down.  But based on all the talk, I figured it was a lock.  And even thought my eyeballs felt like 10lb dumbbells, I staying up sofa surfing until pretty late.  The Chef texted me around 11pm asking if my work was cancelled yet.  I decided I'd rather not even respond because I was afraid of the can of worms it might open.  So I declared [to myself] "I'm asleep!" and didn't write back.  Hey, I could be asleep at 11pm.  I never am, but The Chef need not know this info.
So I continued to be couch roadkill until I finally peeled myself off and into bed around 1am.  Around 1:30a I went to the bathroom and, upon returning, saw my phone's light flashing.  I checked it--
The Chef: "For real, if you're awake I could seriously use a place to crash."
Faaahk!  I looked outside and noticed the white, snow duvet that had blanketed the city. And, homeboy lives in Queens, aka "place I'm never sleeping." Ahhh!  What to do?  I was totally torn between a) wanting to be alone b) wanting to put some space between us so he doesn't think we're BF/GF c) not wanting for feel like a mega-bitch for leaving a poor little sweet boy who likes me LITERALLY out in the cold.  
Yes, I chose c.  UGH I hate being nice sometimes.
So I gave him the greenlight. He didn't make it to my apt until around 2:30, and he was pretty darn drunky drunk.  Ah, the service industry. Vampire hours, endless free booze, no health insurance [I just learned that], and of course there's the whole not being able to go to that establishment ever again after you stop seeing each other.  {moment of silence for my loss of 'inoteca}. 
Luckily he didn't try any shenanigans in bed and just cuddled his freezing self up to me to sleep.  Within minutes, he was snoring. Within minutes, I was uncomfortable yet stuck in that position for hours.  So, yeah. Overall awesomeness and double rainbows all around!
My one saving grace?  I thought "well, at least he can cook me a delicious breakfast!"
Did that happen?
No. He sat on my couch, like a worthless hungover pile of man.  
AND, to make matters EVEN better for me, the abominable snowman did NOT hit nyc as hard as expected last night and work was on. Here is a picture of me, super-psyched to be walking to work.  And speaking of that walk, I dropped The Chef off at the subway on the way there, just in
Hooray for work!
time to avoid getting roped into helping him find/buy a new pair of boots. UM, that's GF work, buddy. And I ain't nobody's GF right now, except for maybe my bed's. Man, I love that thing! 
I really think I'm going to have to deal with The Chef head on and just be honest about the fact that we're not BF/GF [in case he thinks I'm going to prom with him] and that the age thing {read: maturity} is a bigger issue than I'd realized.  Here's another handy dandy infographic to help: 


We'll have to see if he's getting the message or if I'm going to have to {politely} scream it into his 25-year-old eardrums.  


At least I have some fun things over the weekend to look forward to, including:
-Friday night date with a new guy who, through mutual friends, stalked me on Facebook and got me to agree to go out with him. [Mostly I agreed because he looks hot in his pics and mutual friends confirmed he was not only hot but tall and with a chiseled athlete's body. Me-OW.
-Sunday afternoon football watching date with Almost Doc, which will probably be his last, seeing as when he asked me out for Friday (and then) Saturday and I told him I had "plans," he instantly asked me what I was doing, why couldn't I go then, and did I have other dates.  
I told him to mind his own beeswax and stop being so nosy. Seriously???
Please promptly go out and acquire:
1) Manners
2) Tact
3) a Filter


This should be interesting....

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Dating story #31 & 32, It's Still Pouring.

Yes, I know it's Tuesday and I should be posting about beauty. But I have actual dating stories to tell, plus I am so tired I feel completely hag-like and uggs, therefore making me feel unworthy of doling out any beauty advice [today, that is!]


So let's get on to #31 and #32, shall we?  
Something just struck me when writing the title of this post-- I really hope I'm not coming off like I'm "bragging," or that I think I'm, like, super cool or something. I mean, don't get me wrong, I like me.  I'd be friends with me.  But I don't think my poopie smells like roses or anything.  I am just experiencing things I never thought I'd experience and breaking free from the cave of lame, nun-like marriedness I was in for 10 years.  So every time a boy [man] even calls or txts me or tells me something nice, I seriously am like "REALLY??!" Yeah. That's what being locked up for eons will do to you.  Luckily, Rapunzel's had no trouble whatsoever letting down her hair.  And that leads us nicely into Saturday night.
#31
I went on an actual dinner date with Almost Doc.  This would be, shockingly, my FIRST since I started blogging.  Sidebar: how freaking PATHETIC is that?  What is wrong with these dum dums?  If any of you out there are mothers raising sons, I am putting my faith in you to show those boys the right way to treat a woman!
Saturday I waited eagerly to hear from Almost Doc about where we'd be going for dinner. He finally called in the late afternoon to ask where I wanted to go. Oh no, no nooo, Almost Doc. YOU asked me out, YOU make the plans.  I'm sure you've all experienced this and how annoying it is. I should have really held him accountable, but the restaurant control freak/masculine energy side of me couldn't deal with the prospect of him picking a bad food and/or bad location place, so I made a few suggestions and left it up to him.  At least that put him partially in charge anyway.  So he texted back to meet at 8:30 at his pick, my neighborhood fave, Emporio, an elegant, cozy and delicious Roman-Italian Nolita hotspot. Excellent choice! [Well, they all were, really.]  
Then, something occurred to me.  Did this dude think to call first and see about a rez? Emporio is not just a walk-in and be seated immediately type of place.  Feeling like a crazy control freak, yet again, I strategized a nice way to ask this.
ME: "Sweet! Can't believe you got a rez, that place is usually packed on Sat."
HIM: [10 mins later]: "Ha, actually called after I texted you that. They can only take us at 9:15."
You're lucky they can take us at all, dummy!  UGH. I really can't hold everyone's hand, now can I? But I forgot about it, excited to still be going on a nice date, and I donned some sexy stockings and fave LBD and headed over. 
He told me, amongst many other compliments, that I looked "stunningly beautiful" and maybe tried to kiss me across the table like 10x, while intermittently holding/kissing my hand. Um...a little much for a second date, no? Also, I'm fine with a little bar smooching action but in a nice resto? Not so classy, dude.  The words "He needs SERIOUS training" must have popped into my head about 300 times during the night.  Predominately when we were ordering dinner and he decided to ask for Penne Ala Vodka. True, that is an Italian dish.  It just doesn't happen to be on the menu at this resto, dude. I thought our waiter was going to actually laugh in his face. Who DOES that? Tres gauche. But, I tried not to judge too much. Not everyone is a restaurant savant, and I'm sure a medical student would fit into that category.  Plus we DID have fun, and he wouldn't let me pay for anything.  However, based on one convo during dinner, I am slightly concerned he may have a porn addiction, so that should be a fun thing to slowly uncover in the future. 
As irony would have it, the most well-mannered "proper dating" one of them all is also the filthiest-minded and possibly most immature of them all. Why, filthy-minded, you ask?  Oh, trust me. I can just tell. There's something about this Almost Doc I can't quite put my finger on yet, but I will figure it out.  I'm willing to give him one more date though, 'cause, he's really cute. We'll just have to see how far cute gets you...
Hope you're not bored yet, cause here comes #32!
le menu
BFWB lives in a very artsy apartment in Alphabet City [East village] with a very awesome, eclectic bunch of roomies who are all servers and bartenders. Periodically, they will throw a big dinner party called "TJ's Supperclub" 
where they have master mixologists from their bars prepare unique cocktails and guest chefs from theirs/other restaurants prepare dishes.  This time, TJ designed an incredible cocktail menu and the chefs then configured the menu around it. They clear out their huge, artist-space of an apt and make it into a gorgeous seated dinner party.  I was lucky enough to be personally invited [yeah, I'm all VIP n' stuff], and I also got to bring a guest if I so desired.  I debated for awhile, not necessarily which date to bring, but really more of "date or no date" debate.  In the end, I decided to bring The Chef. First because, being in the food service industry, he knows many of the people who would be attending, which is always a bonus. And, because I figured it would be a fun culinary experience to share together.  And, it was!  What a unique and 
cheers to fun!
braised veal cheeks. um, YUM.
special "new york moment" that was, and he was definitely the right date.  It was an awesome evening, filled with rad people, interesting imbibements, and delectable dishes. 
Even a fantastic musical duo, Darling Cait, who crooned into a retro mic while musician, Ian, played toy piano. Sounds crazy, but it was pure musical awesomeness. And, due to the cocktail pairings with each course, we were one drunky-skunky group of Supperclub-ers by the end.  As we were mingling about afterwards, BFWB came bounding up to me and exclaimed "I LOVE your boy!!" This came as no surprise to me. First of all, they could practically be brothers, their coloring is so similar. Plus, The Chef is really funny and a great chit-chatter. And, even though he's only 25, their maturity level is pretty similar. (Kidding, B! You know I loves ya.) I, of course, instantly retorted that he is NOT my boy, but BFWB knows I've been on the fence about The Chef, so he insisted I keep an open mind, after having fallen bromantically in love with him. I agreed and a group of us headed to a bar for a little post-party party. At some point in the night, BFWB came back to me and said "Ok. I get it now." A-HA! See? I knew I wasn't just being a crazy, judge-y beyotch.  The Chef is really really awesome, but 25, "old-soul" or not, is just not going to be at the maturity level I need.  But that doesn't mean I can't have a little fun, right?  And fun we all did have.  Too much.  WAY too much for a Monday night.  Ouchie. 
At the end of the night (or early morning in our case), I was exhausted because I haven't slept much lately. Plus I'm currently experiencing my "lady times" of the month, and therefore wasn't so keen on The Chef having a sleepover.  But, seeing as I was about 9 sheets to the wind and we were already in a cab together, this seemed inevitable. However, knowing he probably had some expectations [aka "getting some"], I had to tell him what the situation down South was. Funsies! It's just so much easier with someone who's a seasoned vet.  But he proved to be an excellent cuddle-buddy, and I was so exhausted at that point, I probably could've slept soundly next to a heavy-breathing orangutan. 
The Chef really is so cute and sweet and I do enjoy spending time with him, I just worry about leading him on and not wanting to hurt him.  Since my Line-Up Flowchart seemed to go over so well yesterday, I've created another visual aid to describe my perception of the situation.  It's a pie chart. Using actual pie. 
My darling The-bro told me these tools are actually called "Infographics." I quite like them. Expect more in the future.


Anyway, here's where my dating novice is starting to show. How long do I hang out with someone I like but don't like like?  And to that point, I don't really know if I like like ANYONE in the current line-up!  Maybe it's because I've overdone it?  It feels like when you go into Sephora and smell so many perfumes that after awhile, you can't smell ANYTHING.  Is that what's happening here? It's like I need the human equivalent of coffee beans to help me figure it out! Hmm...better keep my eye on this situation....
But first, I'm going to keep my eye on my pillow. I'm actually STAYING. HOME. TONIGHT. And, it's probably a really good thing.  This morning I could swear I heard my liver screaming at me. Luckily, stuffing it into my skinny jeans seemed to muffle it.  


To Be Continued... 

Monday, January 10, 2011

Dating story #29 & 30, when it rains, it MONSOONS.

Hello, my name is Lindsey, and I'm a dating machine.
In talking to a friend the other night, I suddenly realized I had gone out 4 nights in a row last week-- with FOUR different guys! 


WHO. AM. I???


I am honestly so overwhelmed by this, but at the same time, it's FUN AS HELL...
Want to hear the stories, but worried you may not be able to keep track? Me too. So I made this crude, handy-dandy Line-Up Flowchart:

Helpful, no?  Ok, so [as pointed out to me] it's more of a "hierarchy/ranking," but "Flowchart" just sounds so much more important and official.  
I already blogged about my night with SoCal Monday night and my time with The Chef Tuesday night. 
So let's pick right up with Wednesday night, shall we?  That night brought a new member to the Line-Up, Almost Doc.  This newby is a Match guy I've been talking to on and off for awhile. A little on the young side (28) but tall, very cute, Jewish {cue parental excitement}, and about to begin his medical residency {cue MORE parental excitement.}  Seems like the whole package plus very confident and has actually called me [a rarity] several times. But, in a text-change we were having during my trip to LA, Almost Doc decided to cross the line with an inappropriate question of the sexual nature. It wasn't that bad, but it was still way too early to talk like that and enough to make me say "Done!"  So, I chewed him out [over text] and prepared to go on my merry way.  But he then called several times and and sent a profusely apologetic note to me about his inappropriateness and asked if I'd give him another chance and "just one drink"-- what could it hurt?  I believe in second chances, especially when a man actually apologizes, so I went for it on Wednesday night, after quite possibly the worst day EVER at work. EVER.
And, I was pleasantly surprised.  Almost Doc was even cuter in person and amazingly confident, not to mention FULL of compliments for me.  He kept reaching for my hand, kissing it, and telling me I was "stunningly beautiful" and better looking than my pictures.  WOW.  Can't say that stuff wasn't all nice n' flattering n' warm fuzzy inside!  
The bar (which is, incidentally, the bar I pretty much suggest ALL my first dates/meetings go to and I'm wondering if the staff there has figured that out yet) has a pool table and Almost Doc challenged me to a game. But, he made stakes.  If he won, I had to give him a kiss.  If I won, he'd have to buy me another drink.  So we played....and, I won! Yeah, I'm kind of a badass. Oh, and he also scratched on the 8 ball. He was SO upset!  It was hysterical and kind of adorable.  So I let him have a second chance.  I came very close to beating him again, but alas, he finally won. And collected immediately! Not a bad smoocher too [FINALLY!].
All in all, a surprisingly fun date that ended with a big, wet one and an agreement to go on another. 

Thursday was the fabulous D-bot's bday happy hour [Happy Birthday, Debsy!] at our fave, The Randy. D-bot and I decided to make an impromptu dance floor, and then her totally 'dorbs friend, G-love, continued to try to talk me into dating him, even though he's barely 5'8" and I could snap him like a twig.  He did his best to sell me on his curly hair making him at least 3" taller during humid summer months and we agreed to revisit the topic in mid-July. 
"I can be taller, I just need to try harder."


Then, off to meet bestie Jendel,in town for a brief work visit, and bestie Rayza. We had a lovely dinner at one of my fave's in the hood, Peasant, and I patted myself on the back for actually having an early(ish) night at home and rewarded myself with an amazebutt episode of "The Millionaire Matchmaker." Do you watch? I hope so. For your sake.
And then, just after midnight....The Streak struck. He texted that I should tell him a story, to his face, at a nearby bar.  On one hand, I knew I could really use a night in.  On the other hand, I've been trying to get The Streak to text less and see me in person more. 
Guess which hand I picked?
Right.  The hand that has you walking to the LES just before 1am on a Thursday night.  
But, we had a freaking blast.  The Streak is really good-looking, in a totally unique way. Plus, absolutely HILARIOUS, smart and not shy at all. Case in point?  The couple standing right behind me at the bar was having a serious makeout session SO close to me, I felt like I was almost having it with them. 
threesome, anyone?
The Streak then started raucously cheering for them ["GO, YOU GUYS!!!"] and also used my extremely bright flash camera to take a picture of them.  [For the record, they didn't notice any of these shenanigans], but I almost fell off my barstool laughing. Damn, he's fun.  We later adjourned to Casa Linds for some more laughs and, more importantly, sleep. After, of course, The Streak decided to CHEW ON MY TOES.  Not because he found it erotic, just because he thinks they are funny and have no meat on them and knows it's absolute TOE TORTURE for me!  And even crazier? I like this!  I need someone fun, crazy, spontaneous and smart.  Sure, his body is a little on the...squishy...side, but his face is pretty. And he likes to tell me a lot how pretty I am. {swoon!}

I have another story from Saturday night involving Almost Doc but this post is already getting a wee-bit long (I'm sure you were riveted the whole time and never noticed), plus it's post 2am and I'm beat. At least I'm doing reeeaaally well on my resolutions thus far. [please note heavy sarcasm]

Night night, pretties! See ya soon...