Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Dear Prudence

I recently found myself involved in a pretty good vertical make-out. i thought I was doing fine considering it had been a while since I last swapped some serious spit. But then I realized that just a few steep stairs up, was an actual bed, which meant that this thing could turn horizontal at any moment. I mean, I came prepared for the horizontal, bikini wax and shaved legs, but honestly those were extremem cosmetic measures that needed to be taken care of whether I wasremoving my jeans for a shower, or having my jeans removed by some lucky guy. And don't get me wrong, I love a good horizontal session. The anxiety sets in when I start to realize that clothes are going to come off sooner or later. And don't get me wrong, I like a little flesh-on-flesh, but the hyper-anxiety sets in when I think "how much flesh?"

You see, even at the mature age of 28 I still fancy myself a bit of a prude. And while I may be a 28 year old prude, you never know what kinds of 28 year olds your guy has gotten with. Another point of confusion is my ability to talk a big game, but never actually produce. This can sometimes lead to aggravation when I bust out the ole hault hand-signal. Anyway, all of the confusion surrounding what is kosher for a late-twenties make-out normally leaves me flailing around like a fish out of water...or a fifth grader. Blushing, giggling, not really knowing where to put my hands, mortified/curious if a certain member peeks through the boxers, accidentally biting lower lips or elbowing their face or knocking porcelain, freaking out that I may weigh more than my actual make-out partner, freaking out that I may have in fact not shaved my legs...just generally freaking out. And your friends who normally envy your dating life usually cannot handle these stories. It's like going into details with them about a colonoscopy.

So when you talk about your prudishness to your friends and they're like "don't worry, you should only do what makes you comfortable?" I'm thinking feeling guilty might feel a lot better.

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

More People I Love (It's Getting Hot in Here)

Men in my hot yoga class. I'm not talking about the walk-ins, I'm talking about the regulars. Three in particular.

Karate Chop - This guy is in his mid 50s, comes into class very serious. he's tall, very fit, and always has on short nylon running shorts with to-the-knee spandex underneath, t-shirt tucked into to shorts and spandex, and, this is my favorite, a karate headband around his forehead. Karate Chop always walks in with a purpose and is determined in the mastering of his moves. Favorite Pose: Awkward Pose.

Inflatulation - This gentleman, also in his mid 50s, is the stereotypical male yogi...in his mid 50s. Longer, curly dark hair, goatee, slightly scrawny. Always adorned in a white tank and baggy shorts. He brings his own mat and places it in the same spot every class. This is the guy who becomes so relaxed and focused that he FARTS at various points throughout the class - making hot yoga 20 degrees warmer. Favorite Pose: Downward Dog (ass in the air - all you need to know).

Dan - Just straight up Dan, because that's his name. Dan knows everyone in class, and if he doesn't, he'll introduce himself to you. Dan is also in his mid 50's (starting to see a trend), talks with a calming voice replete with lisp, and has a pretty significant gut. Dan dresses every class in head-to-toe Under Armor...and all-black Under Armor at that. When I say cap-a-pi, I mean the sleeveless black tank, full-length spandex pants, wrist bands on each wrist and head band across forehead. All black, all Under Armor. Dan is a big fan of sharing his zen-like philosophies such as: "Dance like nobody's watching," or "Love like you've never loved before, " or "Life is not meant to be complacent." Favorite Pose: Breathing (while breathing is not technically a pose, it is so yoga. I know Dan loves breathing because of his loud phlegm-like inhale, and even louder exhale, showing off the length at which he does both).

Saturday, April 05, 2008

I See a Red Flag and I Want to Paint it Blaaaahhhh

I previously posted about a recent 3 date weekend in Atlanta, in which I referenced the Human Cocktail. As many of you know, I avoid using names so as to not totally hurt someone's feelings. I am going to make an exception this one time and just divulge the last name of the Human Cocktail's which is "Black." Which after the fated Friday night turned to Blaaaaaaahhhh. Here's why...

First let it be known that this was a blind set-up. I am adventurous, I don't mind going on blind dates, mainly because you usually walk-away with a pretty good story. Human Cocktail calls me on the phone just to make brief chit-chat and discuss potential plans for the upcoming date. Phone convo isn't as easy flowing as I would normally like, but that's okay. After we discuss our Friday night plans, he proceeds to ask me to brunch for Saturday (insert red flag #1). Okay, so maybe he was just being nice thinking I didn't have any weekend plans, but seriously, asking a girl out on a 2nd date before you even go on the first date? Can you imagine if things went so sour that you either a) have to go to brunch, or (b) have to awkwardly break the brunch? So Friday rolls around and I cruise into Atlanta around 7:45 and the Human Cocktail is set to pick me up around 8:15pm. Not knowing what my plans were with my other dates for the weekend, I put on my "best" outfit for Friday night. Human Cocktail arrives, knocks, my friend is scurrying to the door, he knocks again...and a third time (insert red flag #2). I finish getting ready while my friend offers the Human Cocktail a glass of wine. I join them about 5 minutes later in the kitchen, shake Human Cocktail's hand, make idle chatter, and within 3 minutes Human Cocktail throws back the entire glass of wine (insert red flag #3). From what I could tell, Human Cocktail looked nothing like his picture on his law firm web site (note: for those of you don't know, just about every law firm has a picture of all of their attorneys on the web, this is genius for single people everywhere who have a blind date with a lawyer). In fact he was a poor man's version of You're Never Fully Dressed (insert red flag #4).

Human Cocktail and I set forth on our Friday night journey into Decatur, where we go to this seemingly awesome restaurant known as Watershed. The hostess gave up our seat b/c we were late (my fault), but Human Cocktail was seemingly cool about the situation, which can sometimes cancel out one of your already flying red flags. We go to the bar to kill some time before our table is ready. I make chatter, asking him how he knows our friend who set us up. For the record, I already knew, was just trying to make conversation. Well, this turns the Human Cocktail completely red and awkwardly stumbles through: "I mean, ugh, I mean, we kind of had a few dates this past summer-is-that-WEIRD?" Please note that the words is, that, and weird were all strung together and said very fast as if they were in fact one word (insert red flag #5). Well buddy, considering it's been almost a full year since you had said dates, no, it's not weird, the only weird part is how weird you just made it. Are you weird? Thankfully the waitress came and got us before the cocktails came, which meant we would get to sit at our table and get this dinner over with sooner than I had anticipated.

Conversation was a little awkward. Lots of one-word answers. Just not much connection on banter, etc. One thing, which most late-20s, early 30-somethings talk about, that came up was the inordinate number of weddings, babies, etc taking place around us. Now I approach this topic in one way, so you can imagine when I heard/was asked the following how I fumbled like Grace, Ed Rooney's secretary in Ferris Bueller:

Human Cocktail: "I mean, I just feel like all of my friends are married and all of my friends are having children, which makes me wonder what's wrong with me? (insert red flags #6 and #7 - you know it deserves two)

Ugh, er, oh, ugh...I think you just put your finger on it! I've only known you for 20 minutes and you want me to answer that question? Didn't your mother teach you that you don't bust out the psycho-analysis until after the entree?

Don't really recall how I weaseled out of that question, but I probably did something cowardly like excuse myself to the bathroom. I sat in the stall trying to think of how I was going to be able to end this evening early. Unfortunately, the Human Cocktail drank the bottle of wine as fast as he drank the pre-dinner glass at my friend's house, and became very excited to take me to this bar up the street. I can't help it, sometimes I'm too nice (right?), and didn't know how to say "no." So I obliged and we went to this cool bar - at which the Human Cocktail stuck out like a sore thumb. I failed to mention that he showed up in some kind of hunting boot, tapered jeans, a shot-gun shell on his belt, a blazer, and a bad hair-cut. This bar was full of urban hipsters. We had one beer and I explained that I was tired and probably needed to head home. He mentioned that he has had past issues with law enforcement and drinking and driving (insert red flag #8), so he was going to call this sober-driving company called Zingo (okay, i know, that's responsible). Zingo isn't a cab, they deploy a person on a motorized scooter to come get you - they collapse said scooter in the back of your car, and drive you home in your car. Genius, really...in theory. So Zingo says they're going to be about 30 to 45 minutes, fine. A cab would have taken just as long. The Human Cocktail suggests we have another beer. Honestly, at this point I had passed my limit, not only with drinking but with conversation and with the Human Cocktail altogether. At this point, the Human Cocktail decides to tell me how funny I am. Okay, in some circles I may be witty, but it has been my experience that when a guy actually says "you're funny," he is in fact not...funny at all. This is due to his inability to come up with a witty retort in response, so he has to default to "you're funny." So the Human Cocktail decides to tell me that he thought I was SO funny, that when I responded to the first email he ever wrote me, that he FORWARDED it to his office (insert red flag #9). Wow, we've all forwarded emails, yes. We've all been busted forwarding emails, yes. But NEVER do you disclose to someone that you forwarded their email to the masses.

We finish the beer and I suggest we go outside to check on the Zingo. He calls Zingo and apparently a scooter has broken down, it's going to be a little bit longer, oh good grief. The remaining details really aren't that entertaining - other than the fact that I would excuse myself to the bathroom every 20 minutes just to get away. And more importantly it in fact took Zingo TWO AND A HALF hours to come to my rescue. Why didn't you get a cab you ask? Remember how I mentioned I had surpassed my drinking limit? Why didn't the Human Cocktail get you a cab? I don't fucking know, all I remember is something about him needing his car in the morning to go play golf. Did I also mention at one point during our TWO AND A HALF waiting period that I suggested we go wait in the car and I literally passed out. That was not a good call - he could have been doing something creepy like...playing with my hair. Shiver down my spine.

So Zingo drives me home first - thank GOD there was a third party in the vehicle so that the Human Cocktail couldn't pull any shenanigans. He goes in for the front-to-front bear hug, which I swiftly turned into a side-hug-pat-on-the-back, said "have a good night!" and darted into the door.

With all of those red flags waving, you can understand why I didn't answer his call the following Sunday evening. The classic Fade to Blaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh.

Friday, April 04, 2008

She's Gone...So Wrong

I recently received the following email from a guy that I had ONE date with in September of 2007. After several attempts at a 2nd date, I finally had to tell him that the Scheduling Gods were not in our favor (it is actually you buddy, but I'm blaming the Scheduling Gods b/c I don't have the heart to tell you that asking a girl 7-8 times for a 2nd date after she's said "no" 7-8 out of those times is a huge turn-off). Anyway, it's now April 2008 and the email is as follows:

For some reason I thought about you when I got this; take that as a compliment please.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=vZZngTkp54I

What in this video actually reminded this guy of me: (1) the mock irony? (2) the costuming and hair? (3) the devil, or, (4) the actual lyrics "she's gone...oh why...what went wrong?"

I guess my kiss is still on his list.

Thursday, April 03, 2008

Three Date Weekend (Will You Accept This Rose)

With gas prices being so high you really have to maximize your time when going away for the weekend. You don’t want to have traveled a long distance for no return on your full-tank investment. To really pack it all in though, you need to not only plan ahead, but you also need to be flexible in case something throws a wrench in your plans, or maybe you just want to add an additional attraction to the itinerary.

I recently visited Atlanta with a group of my college friends. We dined, we danced and more importantly we went to a party where there were lots of eligible bachelors. This made me happy being the only bachelorette in the crowd. I left Tyler Perry’s fair city that Sunday, not knowing that my entire routine to Thriller at said house party would leave an indelible impression on the young minds of a few.

Fast forward to the next week. One of the party goers finds my email and begins what could be known as an e-friendship. Lots of bantering back and forth for the next week, culminating (finally) to the question of my return. Of course I replied that I’d be returning upon invitation. To which an invitation was extended. Invitation accepted. Two days after invitation was accepted, a college friend, and ATL resident explains that she has a friend she’d like to set me up with. This guy will be known as the Human Cocktail – simply because his name is so ridiculous that is sounds like something you’d order at a bar. Also, he was a lethal combination of the worst house liquors (another post on the Human Cocktail later). Not knowing the Human Cocktail at all, I graciously accepted her offer to set me up and explained that I would actually be in ATL in the next couple of weeks. So yes, I’m feeling pretty suave right about now. Set-up a Friday night date and a Saturday night date.

We’re now one week out from the 3 Date weekend. You’re thinking, but you only have 2 dates? I know, but we’re getting there. I have talked to both Bachelor #1 (Human Cocktail) and Bachelor #3 (Cheese – this name given lovingly for 2 reasons – none of which have to do with him being cheesy – numbering is confusing but for purposes of the below schedule you’ll see why) on the phone and conversation went smoothly with one and sort of awkwardly with the other. It really is just best not to have a long drawn out conversations before any date in the event that the date is a total bust and you have nothing to talk about. Everything is solidified, well, the date with Bachelor #2 is kind of like jello after it’s been sitting in the fridge for about 15 minutes – no need to go into the details, all that matters is that the date happened. So Friday before I set sail to Atlanta I get an email from another guy (Bachelor #2 – Federal Agent) that I had met at the party mentioned in paragraph 2. He was emailing a shameless plug for a TV show in which he was appearing. I mentioned that I was going to be in his hometown this weekend and that we should get together. After some scheduling conflicts on both of our ends, we finally settled on afternoon drinks. So at 3:00pm Friday my itinerary consists of the following:

Friday 8:30pm Bachelor #1 Dinner and Drinks

Saturday 12:00pm Tyson (friend and default bachelor) Brunch

Saturday 4:30pm Bachelor #2 Drinks

Saturday 8:00pm Bachelor #3 Dinner

This script called for lots of set and costume changes, but I was willing to give it my best. Without going into detail for each date, here are the potential problems that could and did arise with such an itinerary. First, always book brunch the next day with a friend who is willing to potentially get the boot. You never know how the Friday night is going to go. If it’s a bust then you’ll be glad you had the back-up, if it goes well, you need the flexibility to plug in your Friday night to Saturday afternoon. In my case, I was wise and needed the back-up. Second potential problem, you go to brunch with your friend and have such a good time that you wind up drinking most of the afternoon. This did in fact happen. It wasn’t totally detrimental to my itinerary; however, considering I was going to have drinks w/ Bachelor #2 and THEN a date with Bachelor #3, I needed to do a better job of pacing myself. And while I made it back in time for hair and make-up for Bachelor #2, I could have used a few more minutes for a quick snooze and sober. This brings me to my third potential problem, you are having such a good time w/ either bachelor that you lose track of time and are late for the next performance. This also happened leading up to my scene with Bachelor #3. I was enjoying conversation with the Federal Agent, but I felt bad for abruptly cutting it short because I did in fact need to change clothes and get ready for Cheese. This also caused me to have to call Cheese to see if he could pick me up later making it seem like I was a high maintenance girl who wasn’t quite ready…not true. Fourth potential problem, not remembering conversations you had with any bachelor leading you to constantly ask – “did I tell you that already?” or “gosh I think I’m having déjà vu.” Of course there are many other potential problems if you don’t in fact have a home base. Cancel your vacation if that’s the case. My final piece of advice – leave Sunday wide open. This way you can invite your favorite bachelor to join you for brunch. I did this but was unfortunately rejected due to the bachelor having prior plans. Who knows, maybe he is also a fan of making the most out of the weekend.

In summary, my own private staging of the Bachelorette: Atlanta edition was a pretty good success. Roses were extended to Bachelors # 2 and #3. We’ll see if they decide to come home and meet my parents...and then ultimately who gets to come to the Fantasy Suite.

Tuesday, April 01, 2008

You've Got to Be Foolin'

I'd like to believe that this was some sort of radio April Fool's prank, but unfortunately the sincerity and grammatical usage in the voice leads me to believe otherwise. So I was driving into work this morning mindlessly listening to a talk radio show in which callers are playing the game "Fact or Bologna." The cheesy talk-show host begs the question to the latest caller/participant:

"Fact or Bologna? Mussolini and Hitler are a famous comedy duo from the 1940s?"
To which the participant responds: "Fact"

Need I say more?