Saturday night boyfriend shares that his parents got "us" (well really him, but I think they may have said "here, take JJ") a $100 gift card to AMC theaters. And while this seems ridiculously large, it really will only cover about 2 and half movies if we get snacks. And I have to get movie popcorn. It's like a drug. A wonderfully salty drug.
Anyway, we start discussing what movies we should go see and he says he really wants to see Frost/Nixon. I have absolutely no interest in this movie. Not to say that I don't think it will probably be interesting, I just am personally not interested. And we spend about 20 minutes with me trying to explain that. But since I can't really come up with anything other than "I'm sure it is interesting, I'm just not interested" we didn't get very far except to decide that he was more than welcome to go see it without me.
We did move on to decide though that we were going to try and see a different movie Sunday night. He works downtown (close enough to River East to walk) and had a possibility of getting done as early as 4. He gave me free reign to pick the movie and so I jotted down some movie times of what I thought we should see (Slumdog Millionaire, Milk, The Spirit, Benjamin Button, etc.) and headed down to surprise him around 3.
4 o'clock came and it looked like he wasn't going anywhere till closer to 8. I was all ready to pack up and head home when he flies around the corner and says they cut him early- let's go!
Excited we start the windy walk to the theater and I come up with the brilliant plan that I think he should let me pick the movie and let it be a surprise. He is very hesitant about this, I think it was the walking through the movie theater with his eyes closed that he was nervous about, but eventually he conceded. So I stood in line alone and bought the tickets, and when we got upstairs he stared at the carpet as I gently lead him to the theater. He was a great sport.
We got in to the theater and it was ridiculously small and almost all the way filled. We didn't get the exact seats we wanted but I think that's okay. I waited nervously for the movie to start, to see his reaction when he figured out what we were going to see (I kept teasing him that it was Twilight - a movie and book series we are both really against). The previews ended and the show began. Here was the moment to see if my plan of having this be a surprise would be worth it. Before we even got to the name of the director a smile came over his face and he leaned in to whisper thank you in my ear. Yup, in case you hadn't guessed already, we saw Frost/Nixon last night.
Showing posts with label dating. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dating. Show all posts
Monday, December 29, 2008
Friday, November 14, 2008
Boyfriend?
Dictionary.com Unabridged (v1.1) defines "boyfriend" as...
1) a frequent or favorite male companion; beau.
2) a male friend.
3) a male lover.
while supposedly American Heritage Dictionary (though the info was on the same site) defines it as...
1) A favored male companion or sweetheart.
2) A male friend.
Whatever the definition is, I think I may have somehow gotten one. I know, I know, I write this as though I randomly found a $2 lottery ticket, or picked up ringworm, sorry it's just still a little weird.
I am terrible at labeling my interactions with people and usually avoid it at all costs. I don't need to know that you are my "boyfriend" to have sex with you. I just need to know that you are not having sex with lots of other random people. Or if you are, that we both know it and are cool with it. And, on a side note, though I'm not sure it's your business or you even care, since there is no actual sex in this story yet I don't see why all this freaking matters. However, it has been pointed out to me that apparently this living a non-labeled existence makes other people slightly insecure. Whatever. So in order to be a better, more caring person, I have been trying out the term. Ironically though, if you behave like a teenager I then apparently follow suit, because I am lightly using the term with everyone but the actual boy. (insert exasperated sigh here).
Seriously. Is this stuff always this complicated/ridiculous?
But to be fair to the internet world I figured I should at least share a bit of what is going on. Met boy. Like boy. Spending quite a bit of time with boy. Boy seems to like me. In fact, boy tells me this almost all the time. This is good. That is where we are at.
However, as with all things dramalicious, it doesn't even come close to ending there. As this is 2008 the internet has of course infected my social interactions. It started with MySpace. I had a MySpace page a long time ago and abandoned it quickly after discovering the interface sucked. Since then I have become a dedicated Facebook addict. The boy though is still a MySpace user, so I booted back up the old page, updated it, and actually started blogging on it. But since he is the only one I think reading it the posts are pretty much centered around him or things we do. Mostly I do this to amuse him and to share with him things I want to say but can't figure out in actual conversation.
Then his roommate built a fan page for him on FB. So of course, I had to go and become a fan of his. It seemed only fair. On his fan page is a link to his Twitter account. And here is where the downward spiral begins. I am also on Twitter but use it only rarely (though I'm trying to update it more now). So I decided not to follow him publicly and instead type the feed directly in my toolbar so that I can keep up with his not so innermost thoughts without him knowing. Sound dangerous yet? Just wait.
Introduce into the situation a friend of his, we'll call Jane. There is a long, convoluted story about why I think that I don't like Jane and why I think she may be trying to date my new boyfriend (wow it even feels weird to type) but I will keep that for in person story telling time. Lets just say I have a pretty strong gut instinct that this girl is no good.
So the other day I decide to see who is a follower of his Twitter feed and lo and behold there is her mug shot smirking out at me. Obviously the next step is to then go see what she has to say, right? Well even if you think that is not the logical next step, that is where this story takes us. And to make it even more ridiculous, I decide to page back through the history to the night when all these untrusting feelings about her started and begin to try and dissect her updates. Way over analyzing. I know. I still freaking did it. And know I'm stuck with the knowledge in my head. Though to be fair it isn't even actual knowledge. It's fucking Twitter updates.
But in the end all that really matters is I met a boy. We went to the zoo. We are spending Thanksgiving together with friends. I like this boy. This boy likes me. Life is good.
1) a frequent or favorite male companion; beau.
2) a male friend.
3) a male lover.
while supposedly American Heritage Dictionary (though the info was on the same site) defines it as...
1) A favored male companion or sweetheart.
2) A male friend.
Whatever the definition is, I think I may have somehow gotten one. I know, I know, I write this as though I randomly found a $2 lottery ticket, or picked up ringworm, sorry it's just still a little weird.
I am terrible at labeling my interactions with people and usually avoid it at all costs. I don't need to know that you are my "boyfriend" to have sex with you. I just need to know that you are not having sex with lots of other random people. Or if you are, that we both know it and are cool with it. And, on a side note, though I'm not sure it's your business or you even care, since there is no actual sex in this story yet I don't see why all this freaking matters. However, it has been pointed out to me that apparently this living a non-labeled existence makes other people slightly insecure. Whatever. So in order to be a better, more caring person, I have been trying out the term. Ironically though, if you behave like a teenager I then apparently follow suit, because I am lightly using the term with everyone but the actual boy. (insert exasperated sigh here).
Seriously. Is this stuff always this complicated/ridiculous?
But to be fair to the internet world I figured I should at least share a bit of what is going on. Met boy. Like boy. Spending quite a bit of time with boy. Boy seems to like me. In fact, boy tells me this almost all the time. This is good. That is where we are at.
However, as with all things dramalicious, it doesn't even come close to ending there. As this is 2008 the internet has of course infected my social interactions. It started with MySpace. I had a MySpace page a long time ago and abandoned it quickly after discovering the interface sucked. Since then I have become a dedicated Facebook addict. The boy though is still a MySpace user, so I booted back up the old page, updated it, and actually started blogging on it. But since he is the only one I think reading it the posts are pretty much centered around him or things we do. Mostly I do this to amuse him and to share with him things I want to say but can't figure out in actual conversation.
Then his roommate built a fan page for him on FB. So of course, I had to go and become a fan of his. It seemed only fair. On his fan page is a link to his Twitter account. And here is where the downward spiral begins. I am also on Twitter but use it only rarely (though I'm trying to update it more now). So I decided not to follow him publicly and instead type the feed directly in my toolbar so that I can keep up with his not so innermost thoughts without him knowing. Sound dangerous yet? Just wait.
Introduce into the situation a friend of his, we'll call Jane. There is a long, convoluted story about why I think that I don't like Jane and why I think she may be trying to date my new boyfriend (wow it even feels weird to type) but I will keep that for in person story telling time. Lets just say I have a pretty strong gut instinct that this girl is no good.
So the other day I decide to see who is a follower of his Twitter feed and lo and behold there is her mug shot smirking out at me. Obviously the next step is to then go see what she has to say, right? Well even if you think that is not the logical next step, that is where this story takes us. And to make it even more ridiculous, I decide to page back through the history to the night when all these untrusting feelings about her started and begin to try and dissect her updates. Way over analyzing. I know. I still freaking did it. And know I'm stuck with the knowledge in my head. Though to be fair it isn't even actual knowledge. It's fucking Twitter updates.
But in the end all that really matters is I met a boy. We went to the zoo. We are spending Thanksgiving together with friends. I like this boy. This boy likes me. Life is good.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Is it considered failure?
I was telling a story to a friend today and had it pointed out that my dating habits are much like her shopping habits which I found highly entertaining and quite close to the mark. Let me explain. Two weeks ago a different friend sent me an email with one of those "friends and family" discounts to an upcoming cultural event. Basically I could get $50 tickets for half price. I often think that I should make some attempt at least every two weeks to push my boundaries so I went ahead and bought two tickets, thinking that maybe in between then and now (the show is tonight) I could use it as the incentive to find a date.
And in fact I actually met someone in that time span that I thought might be nice to go on a date with. However, when the opportunity presented itself, for a depressingly shorter time span than I was hoping, on Tuesday I froze. I mean I didn't freeze all the way, there was some lame attempt at conversation, but in the end I was left with no invitation extended (or even mentioned!) and two empty seats in my pocket.
Which all brings me to today's conversation - my friend's shopping habits. She equated my life to when you buy that pair of pants just a hair too small, convinced you'll lose the weight and they will fit and be fantastic! and then they sit in the corner for months, or years at a time, till finally you toss them in the give away pile. Which makes me wonder, when do personally bought incentives work? Is it just me (and the people I associate with) who fail to utilize these promises to ourselves to push ahead? If someone else had bought the tickets and said I could take anyone I wanted would I have been more forceful or thoughtful in my hunt for a date? Is it the price of the incentive? Is $50 too low? And in the end, is the experience considered a failure?
For today those questions will remain unanswered. I am lucky in my life that I have a friend at work that said she would go with on my last minute invite this morning so the ticket is not going to waste. And I know I will probably try again. In fact, there is a roller derby show coming up (I've never been, and really kind of want to go!) that I might buy a group of seats for if they are cheap enough and just figure out the invites later. Hopefully next time I will follow my own ideas through.
And in fact I actually met someone in that time span that I thought might be nice to go on a date with. However, when the opportunity presented itself, for a depressingly shorter time span than I was hoping, on Tuesday I froze. I mean I didn't freeze all the way, there was some lame attempt at conversation, but in the end I was left with no invitation extended (or even mentioned!) and two empty seats in my pocket.
Which all brings me to today's conversation - my friend's shopping habits. She equated my life to when you buy that pair of pants just a hair too small, convinced you'll lose the weight and they will fit and be fantastic! and then they sit in the corner for months, or years at a time, till finally you toss them in the give away pile. Which makes me wonder, when do personally bought incentives work? Is it just me (and the people I associate with) who fail to utilize these promises to ourselves to push ahead? If someone else had bought the tickets and said I could take anyone I wanted would I have been more forceful or thoughtful in my hunt for a date? Is it the price of the incentive? Is $50 too low? And in the end, is the experience considered a failure?
For today those questions will remain unanswered. I am lucky in my life that I have a friend at work that said she would go with on my last minute invite this morning so the ticket is not going to waste. And I know I will probably try again. In fact, there is a roller derby show coming up (I've never been, and really kind of want to go!) that I might buy a group of seats for if they are cheap enough and just figure out the invites later. Hopefully next time I will follow my own ideas through.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Lousy 3 percent
A few months ago, I think April to be exact, I met a guy. I had heard about this guy from a mutual friend who thought we would hit it off and she really wanted to hook us up. Catch was, he was just getting out of a long term relationship and it was an ugly break up. I briefly interacted with him at a party that our mutual friend was hosting and quickly made clear to all my friends that I was not interested. While he did show up with gin, and was not horribly unattractive, the guy was just in too dark a place for me to even begin to get involved in. Plus, there were a few extra complications that just made the whole situation icky.
Fast forward to about a month later. Early May and we run into each other again at earlier mentioned mutual friends A Capella concert. Apparently by that time all my misgivings had dissipated because I began to eyeball the guy as a possibility. Play the night on high speed and by the end I had made my move. A brief make out session on a street corner, a quick invite with the rules laid out (I wouldn't sleep with him), and we were soon in a cab on the way to my apartment.
What followed was what I could only presume to be a good time had by all. We left with no exchange of info and had an awkward/slightly cute exchange between mutual friend to set up plans again. Within the week we hung out again, again at my place, and again he spent the night (same rules as night #1 - I do have some standards).
The rest is pretty simple and slightly painful so I am making the executive decision not to go into gory details. Basically after date #2 - nothing. A few feeble attempts at email exchange and then bam! off the grid he went. It took me awhile to get him off my mind, wondering what I did wrong, what move I should or should not have made, but eventually he dissipated from my thoughts.
And then out of nowhere he pops up again. But not in any kind of actual form of communication, oh no that would be way, way to simple. No, I randomly got a friend request a few weeks ago through a book site I am a part of called Good Reads. No message, no warning, just a "Hey, So-and-so wants to be your friend!" standard message. Being the fool I am I thought, what the hell, I'll accept it, maybe I can get some good book recommendations off the kid. Turns out, he doesn't even have any freaking books listed. WTF?
So we have sat in this stasis for a few weeks, where I have no idea what the hell he wants or if he even realizes who I am that he has invited to be friends with. Turning 28 this weekend kicked my ass into gear apparently because I decided this was 7th grade BS and I sent him a quick and basic message asking if he had a particular reason for friending me, or was it one of those add all your friends from your email address book kind of things.
And now I wait. I wait to see if he replies. I wait to see if he has anything to say for himself. And as I wait, I find myself in the most unsettling of situations. 97% of me is pretty ticked off. I finally got this guy off my internal radar, and wham he jumps back on with no explanation at all. 97% of me is filled with a fuck you attitude that says unless you've been trapped in a damn coal mine for 3 months I've got nothing to say to you. 97% of me knows I am better than this, knows I kick ass and take names, and has no time for folks with no decency to have a conversation with someone if they aren't interested, but instead just leaves them hanging. But 3% of me, the 3% that lives somewhere down in my big toe, the part that is crushed into my high heeled, muscle cramp causing shoes for work, 3 fucking percent of me knows that if he emailed and said sorry, want to get coffee? I would say "okay". 3 bloody percent.
Fast forward to about a month later. Early May and we run into each other again at earlier mentioned mutual friends A Capella concert. Apparently by that time all my misgivings had dissipated because I began to eyeball the guy as a possibility. Play the night on high speed and by the end I had made my move. A brief make out session on a street corner, a quick invite with the rules laid out (I wouldn't sleep with him), and we were soon in a cab on the way to my apartment.
What followed was what I could only presume to be a good time had by all. We left with no exchange of info and had an awkward/slightly cute exchange between mutual friend to set up plans again. Within the week we hung out again, again at my place, and again he spent the night (same rules as night #1 - I do have some standards).
The rest is pretty simple and slightly painful so I am making the executive decision not to go into gory details. Basically after date #2 - nothing. A few feeble attempts at email exchange and then bam! off the grid he went. It took me awhile to get him off my mind, wondering what I did wrong, what move I should or should not have made, but eventually he dissipated from my thoughts.
And then out of nowhere he pops up again. But not in any kind of actual form of communication, oh no that would be way, way to simple. No, I randomly got a friend request a few weeks ago through a book site I am a part of called Good Reads. No message, no warning, just a "Hey, So-and-so wants to be your friend!" standard message. Being the fool I am I thought, what the hell, I'll accept it, maybe I can get some good book recommendations off the kid. Turns out, he doesn't even have any freaking books listed. WTF?
So we have sat in this stasis for a few weeks, where I have no idea what the hell he wants or if he even realizes who I am that he has invited to be friends with. Turning 28 this weekend kicked my ass into gear apparently because I decided this was 7th grade BS and I sent him a quick and basic message asking if he had a particular reason for friending me, or was it one of those add all your friends from your email address book kind of things.
And now I wait. I wait to see if he replies. I wait to see if he has anything to say for himself. And as I wait, I find myself in the most unsettling of situations. 97% of me is pretty ticked off. I finally got this guy off my internal radar, and wham he jumps back on with no explanation at all. 97% of me is filled with a fuck you attitude that says unless you've been trapped in a damn coal mine for 3 months I've got nothing to say to you. 97% of me knows I am better than this, knows I kick ass and take names, and has no time for folks with no decency to have a conversation with someone if they aren't interested, but instead just leaves them hanging. But 3% of me, the 3% that lives somewhere down in my big toe, the part that is crushed into my high heeled, muscle cramp causing shoes for work, 3 fucking percent of me knows that if he emailed and said sorry, want to get coffee? I would say "okay". 3 bloody percent.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Just a few headlines...now back to work
Too busy today (and probably the rest of the week for that matter) to do a full blown post but came across a few news items I wanted to make sure I got links up to. First, with no link, it's start of baseball season but since I'm still knee deep in the madness I can't really pay attention to it - that and it's awfully rainy here in the city so I wonder if the cubs are even getting started. Second - I actually participated in this new (or new to me) concept of "earth hour" where on Saturday night I turned off my lights (but not my tv) between 8 and 9 pm. I heard the next day that the city of Chicago had a 5% decrease in energy demand which means nothing to me but then this article today provided a more relative number for me. Just think what we could do if this was a weekly, or even monthly event...too bad we can't focus for more than an hour in our society.
And finally, I have to admit that I have used someone's reading list (or lack thereof) as a make or break in my dating world. Granted, it was almost always more than just what was on his reading list that made me flee from certain ex's or drew me like a moth to a flame to others- but as you well know books are a big part of me and who I am so it is one of the things I look at in potential partners. Usually I don't care what you read, as long as you read something. And for me it usually isn't a level of intelligence thing but an activity to do together - one of my favorite pastimes is laying in bed Sunday (or really any day) morning with coffee and a book or newspaper, it would just be sensible if my partner was with me.
Okay - back to the grind, just one last link to a site that I may have to go back to when my one year blogging anniversary hits (whenever the hell that is). I don't do a lot of pictures but it would be neat to have a hard copy version of all this mish mash I'm spouting...and really I will take any excuse I can to add more books to mys shelves :)
And finally, I have to admit that I have used someone's reading list (or lack thereof) as a make or break in my dating world. Granted, it was almost always more than just what was on his reading list that made me flee from certain ex's or drew me like a moth to a flame to others- but as you well know books are a big part of me and who I am so it is one of the things I look at in potential partners. Usually I don't care what you read, as long as you read something. And for me it usually isn't a level of intelligence thing but an activity to do together - one of my favorite pastimes is laying in bed Sunday (or really any day) morning with coffee and a book or newspaper, it would just be sensible if my partner was with me.
Okay - back to the grind, just one last link to a site that I may have to go back to when my one year blogging anniversary hits (whenever the hell that is). I don't do a lot of pictures but it would be neat to have a hard copy version of all this mish mash I'm spouting...and really I will take any excuse I can to add more books to mys shelves :)
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Train evacuations and weddings
This morning at the Armitage stop (for those not in Chicago, this is not really anywhere near enough to my work for me to walk from) my train was evacuated. First it was stopped and after a few minutes we got the "sick passenger" announcement. Then a few moments later we were all asked to leave the train. 7:55 on the brown line meant a full ass train emptied out on to the platform. Eventually they rolled the train back so another train could get by (which was way too full to even try and squeeze on) but in the mean time I stood on the platform with this immense crowd as a red line train pulled by on the outer track. The red line was possibly even more crowded than the train I just stepped off and as it pulled by it stopped right across from me. It was like animals in a zoo...on both sides. We just stared at each other, separated by glass, wind and 10 feet of electric track, trapped in our own worlds dangerously overlapping the worlds of those around us. Eventually my (now empty) train took care of getting the passenger to the paramedics and rolled back up to let us all back on. Ironically I ended up in the same seat, with the same guy next to me and the same guy standing in the corner, like this weird 20 minutes or so had never happened.
Two weekends ago (sorry no transition, just follow the random jump) I went to Oregon to see a dear friend I haven't seen since my move to the windy city in the summer of 2006. To make a long story short her and her fiance decided to get married while I was there. It was absolutely amazing. I can now add "Ability to plan and execute wedding in under 72 hours" to my resume. And while they did the deed in the local courthouse this was no jeans and t-shirt affair. Full blown gown for the bride, tux for the groom, and maid of honor dress for me. The best part? Two hours later we are all kicked back in jeans having Chinese for lunch. Pics courtesy of the happy couple can be found here and if you want the full crazy detail you can check out mine here (but beware, I took a ton!). It was by far the best wedding I have ever been to (sorry to anyone else's I may have attended) mostly because it was my first real close friend to get married and I got to be an intimate part of it. I still think Vegas is in my future if I decide to take that trek (and of course find someone to take it with!) but if I can't do that, I might have to steal their style.
Last weekend I spent some good old fashioned me time holed up on my couch watching more college ball than was probably necessary. For Easter I ate girl scout cookies. It was fantastic. The Stanford/Marquette game was a nail biter and I can't wait to do it all again this weekend, though this time I might have to get down to the Rail for some brunch and bball action - CBS is starting to tick me off and they have at least half a dozen tvs for my viewing entertainment.
For anyone who still hasn't heard the internet boy date saga let me provide the final update/summary. Sent anonymous missed connection about boy I was interested in. Got busted when said boy actually found the post. Set up date. Had date. Date lasted 16 hours (get your mind out of the gutter, it was actually quite PG...okay maybe PG-13), awkward morning actually went better than expected, had hope for future interactions. Waited for phone call. Phone didn't ring. I called after 4 days and left obligatory "Had good time, hope you did to, we should do it again some time" message. Ran into boy at bar later that night (while with another friend). Had slightly inebriated conversation while outside that consisted of him relaying pretty much all the classic not interested lines in the book, "I have to work, going to parents, I'll call you". Spent some time being bummed, wondering what went wrong, what I did wrong, etc. Got over it and working towards moving on. Tallying it under entertaining stories for later in life.
(Another random jump) Currently listening to Sara Bareilles thanks to Tim and Yael Naim thanks to the damn mac book air commercial. And that's my update for tonight, work is getting back into crazy busy for me so that's why my blogging has been a bit slow (and that whole planning and executing a wedding thing was pretty exhausting). I'll try to do more at home till it gets warm enough to be outside.
Two weekends ago (sorry no transition, just follow the random jump) I went to Oregon to see a dear friend I haven't seen since my move to the windy city in the summer of 2006. To make a long story short her and her fiance decided to get married while I was there. It was absolutely amazing. I can now add "Ability to plan and execute wedding in under 72 hours" to my resume. And while they did the deed in the local courthouse this was no jeans and t-shirt affair. Full blown gown for the bride, tux for the groom, and maid of honor dress for me. The best part? Two hours later we are all kicked back in jeans having Chinese for lunch. Pics courtesy of the happy couple can be found here and if you want the full crazy detail you can check out mine here (but beware, I took a ton!). It was by far the best wedding I have ever been to (sorry to anyone else's I may have attended) mostly because it was my first real close friend to get married and I got to be an intimate part of it. I still think Vegas is in my future if I decide to take that trek (and of course find someone to take it with!) but if I can't do that, I might have to steal their style.
Last weekend I spent some good old fashioned me time holed up on my couch watching more college ball than was probably necessary. For Easter I ate girl scout cookies. It was fantastic. The Stanford/Marquette game was a nail biter and I can't wait to do it all again this weekend, though this time I might have to get down to the Rail for some brunch and bball action - CBS is starting to tick me off and they have at least half a dozen tvs for my viewing entertainment.
For anyone who still hasn't heard the internet boy date saga let me provide the final update/summary. Sent anonymous missed connection about boy I was interested in. Got busted when said boy actually found the post. Set up date. Had date. Date lasted 16 hours (get your mind out of the gutter, it was actually quite PG...okay maybe PG-13), awkward morning actually went better than expected, had hope for future interactions. Waited for phone call. Phone didn't ring. I called after 4 days and left obligatory "Had good time, hope you did to, we should do it again some time" message. Ran into boy at bar later that night (while with another friend). Had slightly inebriated conversation while outside that consisted of him relaying pretty much all the classic not interested lines in the book, "I have to work, going to parents, I'll call you". Spent some time being bummed, wondering what went wrong, what I did wrong, etc. Got over it and working towards moving on. Tallying it under entertaining stories for later in life.
(Another random jump) Currently listening to Sara Bareilles thanks to Tim and Yael Naim thanks to the damn mac book air commercial. And that's my update for tonight, work is getting back into crazy busy for me so that's why my blogging has been a bit slow (and that whole planning and executing a wedding thing was pretty exhausting). I'll try to do more at home till it gets warm enough to be outside.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Weekend update
As the weekend comes to a close I have to say that overall it was relatively productive. I managed not to go out of town or do any work related thinking, I had a 16 hour long date, and I got to watch The Good rock out Saturday night. I got to watch a friend who "doesn't dance" spend the majority of the night up next to the speaker jamming away, I've recovered most of my hearing, though it's still a little like living underwater which is unnerving, I finished Kafka on the Shore and began Snow Crash which looks promising, restocked my OJ supply and now am ready to settle in for Oscar night.
The headlines when I open up my Internet window tell me that Nader has thrown his hat in the rat race again for presidency. It's been too good a weekend to even glance at the story so I'm putting off any commentary or even the slightest thought about it until at least Monday.
I found out my brother might be swinging through the windy city in a few weeks, so I finally get to show off my digs to him which promises to be fun. I got a haircut, a new 600 thread count sheet and a curtain rod so I am once again able to bathe my bedroom in darkness.
As of 4:30 this Sunday evening life is good, quiet but good.
The headlines when I open up my Internet window tell me that Nader has thrown his hat in the rat race again for presidency. It's been too good a weekend to even glance at the story so I'm putting off any commentary or even the slightest thought about it until at least Monday.
I found out my brother might be swinging through the windy city in a few weeks, so I finally get to show off my digs to him which promises to be fun. I got a haircut, a new 600 thread count sheet and a curtain rod so I am once again able to bathe my bedroom in darkness.
As of 4:30 this Sunday evening life is good, quiet but good.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Not really an update....more like a statement
I understand that making any follow up commentary now to yesterday's blog post is kind of like trying to call the Democratic primary - it's just too damn early. None the less, I have this thought running through my head so I'm putting it down here so I can come back and look at it as proof.
As of yet, no word/reply to my outing email that was sent yesterday, but I have still come to this conclusion. No matter what happens I'm glad I did it. I'm in my 20's and this is the time to do these foolish things, because otherwise I will have nothing to laugh about in my 30's...and that's getting just a little too close for comfort. And I will go back into the store even if nothing comes of this exchange because books will always be more important than boys.
So thanks for all the random support and I promise to keep you updated if anything develops and if nothing else this nerve wracking waiting period gives me a chance to rediscover my love of indie girl rock bands* :)
* For those unfamiliar with the indie girl rock band category it includes (but is never limited to) Ani DiFranco, Dar Williams, Feist, Regina Spektor, Indigo Girls....you get the idea.
As of yet, no word/reply to my outing email that was sent yesterday, but I have still come to this conclusion. No matter what happens I'm glad I did it. I'm in my 20's and this is the time to do these foolish things, because otherwise I will have nothing to laugh about in my 30's...and that's getting just a little too close for comfort. And I will go back into the store even if nothing comes of this exchange because books will always be more important than boys.
So thanks for all the random support and I promise to keep you updated if anything develops and if nothing else this nerve wracking waiting period gives me a chance to rediscover my love of indie girl rock bands* :)
* For those unfamiliar with the indie girl rock band category it includes (but is never limited to) Ani DiFranco, Dar Williams, Feist, Regina Spektor, Indigo Girls....you get the idea.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
One in a ...?
I would love it if someone better at math than me (and don't get me wrong, I'm not too shabby when it comes to the numbers, I just don't have the time to lay this one out) could figure out the odds of this conundrum. In a city of 3 million, what are the odds that a Missed Connection posted on the website Craigslist will be found by the actual intended recipient? Because depending on the results of that math, I just may need to take my ass into a casino and roll with it.
Here's how the story goes....there's this boy (isn't there always?) who has caught my eye on a few occasions and I was interested in knowing more about him. Catch is he works in one of my favorite hang out/relax and unwind places so it made it slightly awkward to approach him as the situation is undoubtedly me=customer, him=working....and who really wants to get hit on while at work? So I decided on some high tech recon by way of the glorious internet. I mean really, what can you not do these days by way of the good old WWW? It's almost as if the internet's main goal was to elevate stalking to a higher grass-stain free plane of existence... but I digress.
So, clever as I thought I was, I posted myself a pretty much 90 percent false missed connection on Craigslist. I find it not even remotely possible that there are readers out there unfamiliar with at least the concept of Craigslist, but if there are check it out here and prepare to have the rest of your day sucked away down the rabbit hole.
The whole idea was to try and flush out information about the kid, so I pretended that I had just recently stopped in the store for the first time and saw him and that said store was not really in my neighborhood. Truth - I'm in there all the damn time, I have been checking him out for awhile now, and it's completely and totally in my hood.
So the hours pass and I actually get a reply from a supportive neighbor who suggests "if hes single you should totally go for it, i live in the area and ive seen him a few times and thought he was totally cute!" (all punctuation and spelling complete from original sender). Not quite what I was looking for, but hey it's good to know strangers got my back.
Then it happens. The email comes in to my inbox like a stealth bomber and knocks me completely for a loop. I get a reply, with all the information I could of ever wanted. I get a reply from him. Complete with last name so now he is Google-able (which may not be a word quite yet, but ya'll know exactly what I mean).
And now I am stuck between a rock and a really embarrassing place. If/when I reply I have to now fess up that the original missed connection was pretty much a recon mission and that in reality he knows perfectly well who I am. As soon as he sees my name on the email he will probably figure it out.
So as I formulate my eventual reply, and I will reply because now I have to see what will happen, I just need someone to do the math for me on the odds of this whole damn thing happening, because if I need to rearrange my schedule to get to an East Chicago riverboat....
Here's how the story goes....there's this boy (isn't there always?) who has caught my eye on a few occasions and I was interested in knowing more about him. Catch is he works in one of my favorite hang out/relax and unwind places so it made it slightly awkward to approach him as the situation is undoubtedly me=customer, him=working....and who really wants to get hit on while at work? So I decided on some high tech recon by way of the glorious internet. I mean really, what can you not do these days by way of the good old WWW? It's almost as if the internet's main goal was to elevate stalking to a higher grass-stain free plane of existence... but I digress.
So, clever as I thought I was, I posted myself a pretty much 90 percent false missed connection on Craigslist. I find it not even remotely possible that there are readers out there unfamiliar with at least the concept of Craigslist, but if there are check it out here and prepare to have the rest of your day sucked away down the rabbit hole.
The whole idea was to try and flush out information about the kid, so I pretended that I had just recently stopped in the store for the first time and saw him and that said store was not really in my neighborhood. Truth - I'm in there all the damn time, I have been checking him out for awhile now, and it's completely and totally in my hood.
So the hours pass and I actually get a reply from a supportive neighbor who suggests "if hes single you should totally go for it, i live in the area and ive seen him a few times and thought he was totally cute!" (all punctuation and spelling complete from original sender). Not quite what I was looking for, but hey it's good to know strangers got my back.
Then it happens. The email comes in to my inbox like a stealth bomber and knocks me completely for a loop. I get a reply, with all the information I could of ever wanted. I get a reply from him. Complete with last name so now he is Google-able (which may not be a word quite yet, but ya'll know exactly what I mean).
And now I am stuck between a rock and a really embarrassing place. If/when I reply I have to now fess up that the original missed connection was pretty much a recon mission and that in reality he knows perfectly well who I am. As soon as he sees my name on the email he will probably figure it out.
So as I formulate my eventual reply, and I will reply because now I have to see what will happen, I just need someone to do the math for me on the odds of this whole damn thing happening, because if I need to rearrange my schedule to get to an East Chicago riverboat....
Monday, November 5, 2007
Ah, to be 19 again
I managed to completely regress and act like a 19 year old this weekend. It was not a planned trip back to 1999, and I didn't dress appropriately for travel, but I ended up there none the less. Friday night I drank more than I should have and finally confronted a nagging question I had regarding a possible romantic interest. While I did learn that the door was shut, and it was shut in a nice and non accusatory way, I still feel silly for not realizing the door wasn't open earlier, and I have made further shopping excursions for my favorite addiction potentially embarrassing.
Then on Saturday I decided that one night of drunken revelry was not enough and got even more intoxicated at a bowling alley during a double birthday celebration....and really what else is there to do at a bowling alley? After having a ridiculously too fun time bowling in my sneakers with a group of people I barely know (being surrounded by folks you don't have a high potential for running into again breaks down and often obliterates the ability to think rationally about ones actions....that and 4 glasses of gin helps) I found myself in the delightfully risque position of pressed up against the outside wall under the lips of the little brother of one of the actual honorees of the party (lucky for me it was not the little brother of the honoree who I know and consider a friend, that would of been entirely inappropriate). A whirlwind of encounters happened in which everyone left, I lost the boy (whose name, much to my friends delight, completely escapes me) and then wandered home in a gin soaked haze. I did manage to only walk down one wrong alley before I found my apartment (hey I just moved, give me a break!) and slipped into a dreamless slumber.
So here it is Monday morning. I have seen some of the birthday pictures, and feel pretty justified in saying that they should never, ever be posted anywhere and I need to invest in t-shirts that fit. I checked in with the friend, who assures me that she is not mad at me, and thinks the whole situation is actually quite funny and is enjoying laughing at me as I wander by hoping she will tell me the name of my Saturday night suitor (which so far she has not!). Apparently I had some lingering youth issues that I needed to exorcise this weekend, hopefully that has taken care of it and I can go back to floating through life somewhere in my late 20's where I belong.
Then on Saturday I decided that one night of drunken revelry was not enough and got even more intoxicated at a bowling alley during a double birthday celebration....and really what else is there to do at a bowling alley? After having a ridiculously too fun time bowling in my sneakers with a group of people I barely know (being surrounded by folks you don't have a high potential for running into again breaks down and often obliterates the ability to think rationally about ones actions....that and 4 glasses of gin helps) I found myself in the delightfully risque position of pressed up against the outside wall under the lips of the little brother of one of the actual honorees of the party (lucky for me it was not the little brother of the honoree who I know and consider a friend, that would of been entirely inappropriate). A whirlwind of encounters happened in which everyone left, I lost the boy (whose name, much to my friends delight, completely escapes me) and then wandered home in a gin soaked haze. I did manage to only walk down one wrong alley before I found my apartment (hey I just moved, give me a break!) and slipped into a dreamless slumber.
So here it is Monday morning. I have seen some of the birthday pictures, and feel pretty justified in saying that they should never, ever be posted anywhere and I need to invest in t-shirts that fit. I checked in with the friend, who assures me that she is not mad at me, and thinks the whole situation is actually quite funny and is enjoying laughing at me as I wander by hoping she will tell me the name of my Saturday night suitor (which so far she has not!). Apparently I had some lingering youth issues that I needed to exorcise this weekend, hopefully that has taken care of it and I can go back to floating through life somewhere in my late 20's where I belong.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Straight Men
About 90 percent of my good friends here in the Windy City (and across the country for that matter) are in some stage of a relationship. Some in the brand new, lovey-smiley phase, some in the first few years of marriage, and others in the long term-kids-house part. Because of this, and other random factors (such as I am not a huge drinker, I don't have a lot of extra spending money, and I am still working on going out alone at night in the city) I don't spend a lot of time in loud, smoky, Friday/Saturday night bars trying to pick up random objects of the opposite sex. Which is why last Saturday night's exploration into the late night city scene was hugely entertaining for me.
I celebrated my birthday this year by having a fantastic weekend full of events. To start it off there was a large tapas dinner that was loads of fun. Lots of food and even more sangria made the night highly entertaining. As dinner was winding down the group split into those that had to head home and those that felt up to a little more festivities. As I was knee deep in fuzzy sangria land I went along for the festivities ride with no idea where we were headed. A few of the more sober patriots of our entourage (mostly my designated driver and the other person who had lived here more than one year) packed us into the car and headed up to Delilahs. As we headed up to the door and I saw the row of young, posturing, single men I could barely contain my excitement.
Somehow we managed to snag a table near the back, we found a girl who had a whole table to herself and my more vocal party members asked if we could sit there. She happily obliged, and it turns out she was new to the city, out for the night and had no problem with us crashing her table. I stood with my back to the throngs of people pushing past to get to the bathrooms and the bar and proceeded to spend the rest of the evening jamming out and pseudo dancing (this is where one dances in a bar that is not specifically designed for dancing but plays decent enough music that anyone with any sort of rhythm can't help but at least bounce along). It was jukebox night, which meant we were up for anything, but it settled into a decent routine of 2-3 random punk type songs with a good jumpy beat and then some old school funk classics mixed in.
It was standing such as this, with my gin and sangria filled hips shaking along that I re-discovered what it was like to be in a bar on Saturday night. I was quickly able to tell who was behind me by the way they indicated their presence. Girls, when trying to squeeze behind other girls (this all presumes heterosexuality by the way) will lightly place their hand on your back. Kind of that "Hey, I'm back here, please don't step on me suddenly" gesture. Guys on the other hand, will slide their arm/hand around your waist to show you they are entering your personal space. At no point in time did I feel creeped out by this, in fact it was probably wise that they alerted me to their presence otherwise my gin filled dancing moves might have wrecked havoc on them. Instead I found highly entertaining. After months of spending my free time in either coffee shops or gay bars, it was fun to get back into the heterosexual Saturday night dating scene while safely ensconced in my group of friends who would make sure I didn't end up on top of the bar, making out with strangers (which has happened in various points in my life). While I would still rather meet a guy reading with a latte in my lap, I have to admit it was a great way to celebrate the next year of my life.
I celebrated my birthday this year by having a fantastic weekend full of events. To start it off there was a large tapas dinner that was loads of fun. Lots of food and even more sangria made the night highly entertaining. As dinner was winding down the group split into those that had to head home and those that felt up to a little more festivities. As I was knee deep in fuzzy sangria land I went along for the festivities ride with no idea where we were headed. A few of the more sober patriots of our entourage (mostly my designated driver and the other person who had lived here more than one year) packed us into the car and headed up to Delilahs. As we headed up to the door and I saw the row of young, posturing, single men I could barely contain my excitement.
Somehow we managed to snag a table near the back, we found a girl who had a whole table to herself and my more vocal party members asked if we could sit there. She happily obliged, and it turns out she was new to the city, out for the night and had no problem with us crashing her table. I stood with my back to the throngs of people pushing past to get to the bathrooms and the bar and proceeded to spend the rest of the evening jamming out and pseudo dancing (this is where one dances in a bar that is not specifically designed for dancing but plays decent enough music that anyone with any sort of rhythm can't help but at least bounce along). It was jukebox night, which meant we were up for anything, but it settled into a decent routine of 2-3 random punk type songs with a good jumpy beat and then some old school funk classics mixed in.
It was standing such as this, with my gin and sangria filled hips shaking along that I re-discovered what it was like to be in a bar on Saturday night. I was quickly able to tell who was behind me by the way they indicated their presence. Girls, when trying to squeeze behind other girls (this all presumes heterosexuality by the way) will lightly place their hand on your back. Kind of that "Hey, I'm back here, please don't step on me suddenly" gesture. Guys on the other hand, will slide their arm/hand around your waist to show you they are entering your personal space. At no point in time did I feel creeped out by this, in fact it was probably wise that they alerted me to their presence otherwise my gin filled dancing moves might have wrecked havoc on them. Instead I found highly entertaining. After months of spending my free time in either coffee shops or gay bars, it was fun to get back into the heterosexual Saturday night dating scene while safely ensconced in my group of friends who would make sure I didn't end up on top of the bar, making out with strangers (which has happened in various points in my life). While I would still rather meet a guy reading with a latte in my lap, I have to admit it was a great way to celebrate the next year of my life.
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