When I was 15 it took me 15 minutes to do my makeup and hair, and not to flatter myself, but it was near perfect. Now, after a good 45 minutes with my professional grade hair dryer, top of the line straightener, complete system of hair product, 5 piece skin care system, spackle, and a drawer full of makeup...it's hardly an improvement.
At 18, dating was fun. No pressure, no one worrying (Mom) that they'd never have grandchildren, no one saying "I wish I had someone I could fix you up with." Now, friends and family are openly concerned about my singledom, and begin to frantically find and offer to pay for singles mixers in hopes of me finding my future husband.
When I was 21 I walked around in 4 inch heels everywhere. On my walk through Mt. Vernon from the parking lot to work, nights out at the local bar, dancing, dinner, or, just around my house. And other than that one time, I never (hardly ever) fell. Now, I trip up and down steps, fall into my house, slip at work, step on my own foot, etc, pretty much on daily basis. Sometimes more than once. Don't judge me.
When I was 23 I was still young enough to go out at 10, drink til 2, sleep 4 hours, wake up, and work as if nothing had happened. Now? I go out until 2, and the next morning I accidentally wash my hair with body wash instead of shampoo.
At 25 I loved to spend my money on things like makeup, shoes, bags, and jewelry. And now, as much as I love those things, I put them off in order to save money for my favorite time of the year, Dollar Days at my local liquor store, to ensure I can stock my wine cabinet enough to get me through 6 months until the next sale.
29. Oh, 29. I don't know how I got here but I sure am starting to feel it. The roots of my hair are growing in as a color I'd rather not mention, so clearly, I no longer color my hair just for fun. Instead of late night partying, I have a glass (bottle) of wine with my roommate, fall asleep watching DWTS, and wake up at 2am on the couch with whiplash from sleeping on the couch. Blind dates are no longer funny stories to entertain with at the Thanksgiving dinner table, but mere failure tales of a relationship that might have been. (Actually, my blind date stories are still pretty funny.)
Before 30, I'm rebelling against aging. I just may have to invest in collagen producing makeup and 5-hr energy shots before I hit the big nights out. Oh! And walk slowly and carefully in heels, because there's nothing worse than falling down the steps at a bar. Total buzz kill. So I've heard. Not from personal experience.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
A Little Bit of This, A Little Bit of That
Usually I rant on and on about one specific topic, but lately there are just too many things that are ridiculous. So, here we go...
Student drivers...This morning, the roads were icy and snow was blowing everywhere. I was impressed to see a student driver in the lane next to me on 695, hands clenched on the steering wheel, chugging along. I decided to be polite and let the little un-licensed driver change lanes and get in front of me. After all, I'm practicing getting better gas mileage in my new ride where the 8 cylinder Hemi engine is sucking my money straight into its gas tank. I was almost taken back to the days when I, myself, was learning to drive, parallel parking practice at Glyndon Elementary, when suddenly, my daydream was interrupted because I was blinded by 18 feet of snow flying off the top of the amateur's car, directly onto my windshield. Are you kidding me? Excuse Mr. Student Driver's Teacher, but don't you think in teaching a tiny teenager how to drive, it might be nice to mention the etiquette and safety behind cleaning off your damn car before putting your vehicle in motion?
Restaurant vacuums...You know the ones? They don't plug in, but they rub against the carpet in a friction-like manor and supposedly pick up crumbs? Well today, during my much needed break from work and near-death highway experiences, I got run over by one. I get the importance of maintaining a clean space for your customers but, I do not appreciate the carpet rubber running over my feet, twice, while trying to enjoy my greek salad.
The McRib...Have you seen the commercial? Can someone please tell me the marketing tactic behind really messy food and ugly actors? It's like the "Happy Anniversary" mole balloon all over again. And now there's some chipotle burger? I don't know about you but the image of some person biting into a ridiculous sized sandwich getting barbecue sauce all over his/her face does not make me want to rush to my nearest drive thru. Ever. Again. (In case you're wondering about the mole balloon...at my first job, we sold balloons. This one featured 2 moles (the animal, not the skin growth) sitting at a table drinking champagne, with the words "Happy Anniversary" scrolled above their heads. I mean...what on earth?!? Moles? Really?)
Comcast vs. Verizon...Am I the only person with the worst luck ever when it comes to home utilities? First I had the worst experience ever with Verizon, and now Comcast does its best to compete for the title. Both have managed to piss me off and make me wish I was smarter and richer so that I could come up with a competitor company. Customer service (and general common sense) is what they lack. Customer service is my specialty...my company would rock your digital world.
Match.com...Yes, I'm still talking about it. But I think the universe was telling me not to give up on it, as I was charged $65 for another 3 months even though I hold a cancellation confirmation from the week prior. Too bad for the universe that I was much more interested in my $65 than I was in another awkward dinner/movie outing with someone else's soulmate.
Dating cards...I may be free of match.com but I'm still being stalked for being single. Today's harassment supplied via email...a special offer from an online printer, offering "date cards." So, like a business card, only dumber. Name, phone, email and fax if you like. But instead of your business/job title? A dating headline. What's this you ask? Well, as per the example in the ad, "Lonely brunette, looking for love in 2011." I couldn't make this up if I tried. I considered, for a moment, ordering myself a box, only using a different headline. "Call me if it doesn't work out."
That's all for now.
Student drivers...This morning, the roads were icy and snow was blowing everywhere. I was impressed to see a student driver in the lane next to me on 695, hands clenched on the steering wheel, chugging along. I decided to be polite and let the little un-licensed driver change lanes and get in front of me. After all, I'm practicing getting better gas mileage in my new ride where the 8 cylinder Hemi engine is sucking my money straight into its gas tank. I was almost taken back to the days when I, myself, was learning to drive, parallel parking practice at Glyndon Elementary, when suddenly, my daydream was interrupted because I was blinded by 18 feet of snow flying off the top of the amateur's car, directly onto my windshield. Are you kidding me? Excuse Mr. Student Driver's Teacher, but don't you think in teaching a tiny teenager how to drive, it might be nice to mention the etiquette and safety behind cleaning off your damn car before putting your vehicle in motion?
Restaurant vacuums...You know the ones? They don't plug in, but they rub against the carpet in a friction-like manor and supposedly pick up crumbs? Well today, during my much needed break from work and near-death highway experiences, I got run over by one. I get the importance of maintaining a clean space for your customers but, I do not appreciate the carpet rubber running over my feet, twice, while trying to enjoy my greek salad.
The McRib...Have you seen the commercial? Can someone please tell me the marketing tactic behind really messy food and ugly actors? It's like the "Happy Anniversary" mole balloon all over again. And now there's some chipotle burger? I don't know about you but the image of some person biting into a ridiculous sized sandwich getting barbecue sauce all over his/her face does not make me want to rush to my nearest drive thru. Ever. Again. (In case you're wondering about the mole balloon...at my first job, we sold balloons. This one featured 2 moles (the animal, not the skin growth) sitting at a table drinking champagne, with the words "Happy Anniversary" scrolled above their heads. I mean...what on earth?!? Moles? Really?)
Comcast vs. Verizon...Am I the only person with the worst luck ever when it comes to home utilities? First I had the worst experience ever with Verizon, and now Comcast does its best to compete for the title. Both have managed to piss me off and make me wish I was smarter and richer so that I could come up with a competitor company. Customer service (and general common sense) is what they lack. Customer service is my specialty...my company would rock your digital world.
Match.com...Yes, I'm still talking about it. But I think the universe was telling me not to give up on it, as I was charged $65 for another 3 months even though I hold a cancellation confirmation from the week prior. Too bad for the universe that I was much more interested in my $65 than I was in another awkward dinner/movie outing with someone else's soulmate.
Dating cards...I may be free of match.com but I'm still being stalked for being single. Today's harassment supplied via email...a special offer from an online printer, offering "date cards." So, like a business card, only dumber. Name, phone, email and fax if you like. But instead of your business/job title? A dating headline. What's this you ask? Well, as per the example in the ad, "Lonely brunette, looking for love in 2011." I couldn't make this up if I tried. I considered, for a moment, ordering myself a box, only using a different headline. "Call me if it doesn't work out."
That's all for now.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Risk Nothing, Gain Nothing
I will not jump out of a plane or off a bridge. No need for me to soar like a kite over the ocean. No interest in putting my life savings on a roulette table, or even crossing the street without looking both ways. I am not risk taker. In fact, I might be the exact opposite.
Looking back, I can't really remember any risks I've taken. Except for maybe quitting my college backed career to pursue a childhood passion. Other than that, nada. I realize this is unfortunate.
Last week, I gave a woman with scissors in her hand full control, and she gave me bangs. If I had published this blog a week ago, I would have said it was the last risk I'd ever take. Day 1 went something like this. Got hair cut. Purchased a hat that the salon randomly was selling so that I could cover up the risk I'd just taken. Fell out of the salon by finding and stepping on the one remaining patch of ice in Maryland. Punched my finger through the side of my coffee cup during fall and was unable to save the remains. Sat in a Dunkin Donuts parking lot and stared at myself in my mirror. After deciding I was not ready for the world to see me, I went through the drive thru and got a new coffee. Drove to work. Sat in parking garage and stared at myself some more. Found lone bobby pin in my car and with some help with some serious Control Force hairspray, pinned bangs back to pretend they never existed. Got to work. Took my break and went to GNC and bought Biotin and Hair Skin and Nail Formula, suggested to make your hair grow faster. Bought purse pak of bobby pins and a few headbands. Returned to work. All in all, I think I handled it well.
The next few days were better. I fought the urge to shellac my hair back again and boldly sported my new bangs. At my mom's house the next night, my uncle asked me if I was wearing a wig. He then said "I mean, it looks like a good wig." My dad told me I shouldn't have cut my hair. My aunt stared at me for a good 5 minutes in silence, while deciding what she thought of it. Turns out, by the end of the night, she did.
Since then, I give the bangs a chance about every other day. And I have to say, I don't hate them as much as I did. They're growing on me. Ha! GROWING on me, get it!? Fine, moving on. Now some of you might be reading this thinking, really? She's making this big of a deal over a haircut? But, I'll have you know that not only did I take a real risk here, but a few years ago, after 8 inches got hacked off my hair, I locked myself in the work bathroom and cried. Then, I cancelled all plans I had for a week. I'd say I've come a long way in handling difficult situations!
My stylist said that she gives people bangs and they get boyfriends. Hmm, risk hair, gain a boyfriend? I don't want to ruin her reputation or anything, but my membership to match.com expires in 6 days. And considering that in 3 months I went on 2 dates, the chances are not good. I guess I'll have to start meeting people in real life. Bring it on bangs, bring it on...
Looking back, I can't really remember any risks I've taken. Except for maybe quitting my college backed career to pursue a childhood passion. Other than that, nada. I realize this is unfortunate.
Last week, I gave a woman with scissors in her hand full control, and she gave me bangs. If I had published this blog a week ago, I would have said it was the last risk I'd ever take. Day 1 went something like this. Got hair cut. Purchased a hat that the salon randomly was selling so that I could cover up the risk I'd just taken. Fell out of the salon by finding and stepping on the one remaining patch of ice in Maryland. Punched my finger through the side of my coffee cup during fall and was unable to save the remains. Sat in a Dunkin Donuts parking lot and stared at myself in my mirror. After deciding I was not ready for the world to see me, I went through the drive thru and got a new coffee. Drove to work. Sat in parking garage and stared at myself some more. Found lone bobby pin in my car and with some help with some serious Control Force hairspray, pinned bangs back to pretend they never existed. Got to work. Took my break and went to GNC and bought Biotin and Hair Skin and Nail Formula, suggested to make your hair grow faster. Bought purse pak of bobby pins and a few headbands. Returned to work. All in all, I think I handled it well.
The next few days were better. I fought the urge to shellac my hair back again and boldly sported my new bangs. At my mom's house the next night, my uncle asked me if I was wearing a wig. He then said "I mean, it looks like a good wig." My dad told me I shouldn't have cut my hair. My aunt stared at me for a good 5 minutes in silence, while deciding what she thought of it. Turns out, by the end of the night, she did.
Since then, I give the bangs a chance about every other day. And I have to say, I don't hate them as much as I did. They're growing on me. Ha! GROWING on me, get it!? Fine, moving on. Now some of you might be reading this thinking, really? She's making this big of a deal over a haircut? But, I'll have you know that not only did I take a real risk here, but a few years ago, after 8 inches got hacked off my hair, I locked myself in the work bathroom and cried. Then, I cancelled all plans I had for a week. I'd say I've come a long way in handling difficult situations!
My stylist said that she gives people bangs and they get boyfriends. Hmm, risk hair, gain a boyfriend? I don't want to ruin her reputation or anything, but my membership to match.com expires in 6 days. And considering that in 3 months I went on 2 dates, the chances are not good. I guess I'll have to start meeting people in real life. Bring it on bangs, bring it on...
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
What Women Want
On a daily basis, I'd say I'd have about...say...0 dating prospects come in to my life. I suppose it could be my field of work, the fact that my ripe old age of 29 prohibits me from my once ability to party hardy on a work night, or, that none of my friends are even attempting to set me up. After what I learned this week though, I don't really think it matters. It seems I don't have what men want...
Twice this week it happened. While on a less than salesy sales pitch (yes, I'm that good) a women says to me "I'm sorry, I am really not hearing anything you're saying to me right now because I can't stop looking into your eyes. They're mesmerizing." And the next day, in yet another similar situation, a different woman says "You're going to have to repeat that. I'm completely in awe of your perfect hair and nails. I can't stop staring." She then proceeded to awkwardly hold my hands as she examined them closer.
Now sure. I'm flattered to say the least...but really? I realize that hair and nails aren't necessarily the assets that men are struck by when a girl walks by. But I couldn't help but wonder as I watched the ridiculously pretty, overly endowed girls on The Bachelor tonight if that's really what most guys prefer. Pretty, yes. Some, strikingly beautiful. But, 98% of them are certified crazy.
One group date, and they're madly in love. They cat fight amongst themselves, tear up while watching other girls talk to "their man", and after just one week, full out cry when they get sent home. One girl tonight swore off dating simply because of the rejection she felt from this one guy who she really knew nothing about. If I were to pursue a guy so intensely so quickly, or, even text a guy after a date without following the 3 day rule, they'd probably run, screaming, for the hills. I'd be called needy, a stage 5 clinger, dependant, and annoying. Possibly even a stalker. But...low and behold, beloved Brad gave a rose to the most obvious needy, dependant, annoying, stage 5 clinger stalker.
The latest "prospect" I've had was a recently-fired-from-Safeway 19 year old boy at the gas station who wanted to "text my phone." And yes, the recently fired part was part of his intro. He wasn't even scared off when I told him I had a boyfriend, and insisted that it was no problem...we could just "start out" as friends. I think I'd be better off platonically accepting compliments from women, both who, by the way, bought everything I suggested. At least my well groomed dead cells are good for business...
Twice this week it happened. While on a less than salesy sales pitch (yes, I'm that good) a women says to me "I'm sorry, I am really not hearing anything you're saying to me right now because I can't stop looking into your eyes. They're mesmerizing." And the next day, in yet another similar situation, a different woman says "You're going to have to repeat that. I'm completely in awe of your perfect hair and nails. I can't stop staring." She then proceeded to awkwardly hold my hands as she examined them closer.
Now sure. I'm flattered to say the least...but really? I realize that hair and nails aren't necessarily the assets that men are struck by when a girl walks by. But I couldn't help but wonder as I watched the ridiculously pretty, overly endowed girls on The Bachelor tonight if that's really what most guys prefer. Pretty, yes. Some, strikingly beautiful. But, 98% of them are certified crazy.
One group date, and they're madly in love. They cat fight amongst themselves, tear up while watching other girls talk to "their man", and after just one week, full out cry when they get sent home. One girl tonight swore off dating simply because of the rejection she felt from this one guy who she really knew nothing about. If I were to pursue a guy so intensely so quickly, or, even text a guy after a date without following the 3 day rule, they'd probably run, screaming, for the hills. I'd be called needy, a stage 5 clinger, dependant, and annoying. Possibly even a stalker. But...low and behold, beloved Brad gave a rose to the most obvious needy, dependant, annoying, stage 5 clinger stalker.
The latest "prospect" I've had was a recently-fired-from-Safeway 19 year old boy at the gas station who wanted to "text my phone." And yes, the recently fired part was part of his intro. He wasn't even scared off when I told him I had a boyfriend, and insisted that it was no problem...we could just "start out" as friends. I think I'd be better off platonically accepting compliments from women, both who, by the way, bought everything I suggested. At least my well groomed dead cells are good for business...
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Another 52 Weeks To A Better Me
As if in typical me fashion, I just wrote an entire blog about my journey of 2010 and commitment to the journey of 2011, and, while typing the very last sentence, deleted the entire thing. So, now I'm annoyed, but am fighting the urge to step away from the computer, and am devoting the next 20 minutes to rewriting the entire damn thing, even though its midnight and I should be sleeping.
So. Pretending the above never happened, here goes...
In December of 2009, I decided to take a 52 week journey to a better me. I decided to resolution weekly, finding faults in myself and devoting 7 days to changing each issue. I quickly realized 2 things. One, 52 things to change is a lot, even for someone as far from perfect as I am. And 2, most things I did need to change would take a lot more time than 7 days.
That said, I feel improved on the resolutions I did make. Write more. Well, I posted 34 more blog entries than I did in 2009. Success. Read more. After knocking out Jen Lancaster's "Bright Lights, Big Ass," I continued on to read 7 more books this year, thanks to my borrowed/permanently stolen mother's Kindle. Stop cancelling plans so much. Check! Manage money better, take more pictures...done and kinda done! I at least have some pics to prove my existence in 2010.
I also battled some other demons. For the first time in 5 years, I went on a few dates. Unsuccessful, but I went. I even rejoined match.com, which, well, no comment. Plus, on the pages that I'm not cursing at or criticizing, my latest book read, "Marry Him: The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough" by Lori Gottlieb, is teaching me to fight my natural urge to not want to meet new people, and, not give up on people with bad habits too quickly. For example, I now see why not pursuing someone with an annoying laugh or small hands is unacceptable and not a good reason to reject. And yes, I'm still single, but I'm much closer to not being in the dating dark than I was this time last year. WWLGD has been my new dating life slogan..."What would Lori Gottlieb do?"
A great end and a greater beginning...in accordance with my resolution of "go places, do things" New Years Eve was so much fun, and day 1 of 2011 even better, at, what my friends and I refer to as "game of life," the Winter Classic, where the Caps beat the Pens 3-1!
So no, 52 weeks to a better me didn't go quite as I'd hoped. But, nothing happens overnight (or in my case, 365 nights) right? So, here we go again. There will not be 52 resolutions this time, but there will be changes with realistic goals. My first task? A measurable one. In 2011, I will double the amount of posts from 2010. Goal: 72+.
Happy late New Year friends, family, and all of the secret readers I pretend to have. And, cheers to (another) 52 weeks to a better me! Hope you'll stick around, and, if I haven't been clear...post comments to prove that you did!
XOXO,
Gossip Girl (Fine. Shauna.)
So. Pretending the above never happened, here goes...
In December of 2009, I decided to take a 52 week journey to a better me. I decided to resolution weekly, finding faults in myself and devoting 7 days to changing each issue. I quickly realized 2 things. One, 52 things to change is a lot, even for someone as far from perfect as I am. And 2, most things I did need to change would take a lot more time than 7 days.
That said, I feel improved on the resolutions I did make. Write more. Well, I posted 34 more blog entries than I did in 2009. Success. Read more. After knocking out Jen Lancaster's "Bright Lights, Big Ass," I continued on to read 7 more books this year, thanks to my borrowed/permanently stolen mother's Kindle. Stop cancelling plans so much. Check! Manage money better, take more pictures...done and kinda done! I at least have some pics to prove my existence in 2010.
I also battled some other demons. For the first time in 5 years, I went on a few dates. Unsuccessful, but I went. I even rejoined match.com, which, well, no comment. Plus, on the pages that I'm not cursing at or criticizing, my latest book read, "Marry Him: The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough" by Lori Gottlieb, is teaching me to fight my natural urge to not want to meet new people, and, not give up on people with bad habits too quickly. For example, I now see why not pursuing someone with an annoying laugh or small hands is unacceptable and not a good reason to reject. And yes, I'm still single, but I'm much closer to not being in the dating dark than I was this time last year. WWLGD has been my new dating life slogan..."What would Lori Gottlieb do?"
A great end and a greater beginning...in accordance with my resolution of "go places, do things" New Years Eve was so much fun, and day 1 of 2011 even better, at, what my friends and I refer to as "game of life," the Winter Classic, where the Caps beat the Pens 3-1!
So no, 52 weeks to a better me didn't go quite as I'd hoped. But, nothing happens overnight (or in my case, 365 nights) right? So, here we go again. There will not be 52 resolutions this time, but there will be changes with realistic goals. My first task? A measurable one. In 2011, I will double the amount of posts from 2010. Goal: 72+.
Happy late New Year friends, family, and all of the secret readers I pretend to have. And, cheers to (another) 52 weeks to a better me! Hope you'll stick around, and, if I haven't been clear...post comments to prove that you did!
XOXO,
Gossip Girl (Fine. Shauna.)
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Tell Me How You Really Feel
As much as I love writing for my own entertainment, I really like to know that people are reading. You know how I know? Comments. Now, I appreciate the direct to my gmail emails I get from you, but comments are like public proof that people read. According to the Hollywood producer and/or publisher who could stumble upon my blog, I have no readers. And so, they will pass me by for the next blogger whose readers actually comment. And when that happens, dear readers I assume I have, I will blame you. So, in short, please comment. Otherwise, I will post your emails for you. As I have below...
In response to "Masochism and Match.com":
"We're idiots. Women are more confusing than we are idiots though. I've tried several different styles when writing my profile and have had about the same success or lack of success. Minimal interest. What the hell do women want to hear in those things..."
"I wish you would write one every day. I would enjoy reading every morning with my cup of coffee!"
"Hahahaha - this is a good one!! There are so many wack jobs out there! BUT I am glad that you are back out there :) You will find someone!!"
"Another good one! You're too funny!"
"Hilarious! I laughed out loud MANY times. There is a book of collected stories about online dating. You should see if you could submit a story to something like that. The editors were on a radio show I listen to the other day. I thought of you..."
I love it. But please post publicly so other people can see how important I am. Thanks!
In response to "Masochism and Match.com":
"We're idiots. Women are more confusing than we are idiots though. I've tried several different styles when writing my profile and have had about the same success or lack of success. Minimal interest. What the hell do women want to hear in those things..."
"I wish you would write one every day. I would enjoy reading every morning with my cup of coffee!"
"Hahahaha - this is a good one!! There are so many wack jobs out there! BUT I am glad that you are back out there :) You will find someone!!"
"Another good one! You're too funny!"
"Hilarious! I laughed out loud MANY times. There is a book of collected stories about online dating. You should see if you could submit a story to something like that. The editors were on a radio show I listen to the other day. I thought of you..."
I love it. But please post publicly so other people can see how important I am. Thanks!
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Masochism and Match.com
I just realized that I haven't spoken a word out loud today. And I like it. I woke up early and continued reading a book that was lent to me over a year ago. Eventually, the need for coffee outweighed my need to stay in bed, and I ventured to the kitchen to push the button on the Keurig.
I would have accompanied my coffee with a bowl of cereal, only the milk had gone bad. So, I skipped breakfast and finished my book instead. I have to say though, after reading my last 2 books via Kindle (stolen from my mother) I found it inconvenient to have to turn my own pages. I've already picked out my next book to download (which is even better as the Kindle is also tied to my mom's Amazon account and credit card) which is apparently about how not to be too picky and how to avoid ending up alone. At least, that's what I got from the online excerpt. But, it comes highly recommended by trusted people, so Marry Him - The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough by Lori Gottlieb, it is.
Anyway, another month has come and gone. Was October super irritating to anyone else? I mean, so exciting that fall sports have started (woo, Go Caps!) but if I see another pink jersey I'm going to lose it. I mean, clearly, girls can make fantastic fans. But girls. Come on. Ravens fans especially. The color is already purple, so do you really need to sport a pink jersey instead? The day I try to "Rock the Pink" at Verizon Center, somebody, please stop me.
I've also rejoined match.com. I'm a masochist, I know. But in attempt to help my roommate get over a recent end to a relationship, I offered my support and we both joined together.
Here's the difference...she attracts somewhat normal, reasonably attractive, seemingly successful men. Me? I attract either 65 year old men or 30 somethings that think gang signs and sideways (or, should I say "sidewayz") baseball hats are attractive profile pics. Let me inform you...they're not.
The more profiles I read, the more I wonder what is wrong with people. Or, the more I wonder...am I too picky? Should I be flattered by the "winks" from men old enough to be my grandfather? Should I consider the guys who email me with the subject line of "Hi there pritty, what's you're name"? Should I have a 2nd date that needs to chug a beer before he can carry a half decent conversation? I also wonder what the author of "Marry Him" might have to say about my situation. Am I being too judgmental when it comes to my match.com suitors?
Most recently, I've been contacted by a guy who photographed himself sitting at his kitchen table, wearing no shirt, posing in his best Hulk Hogan "guns" stance. His profile reads, and I quote, "im a laid back kidda shy but tough nice funny a gentleman looking for the same in a woman. not greaty knows how to treat a ladie...."
I'm speechless. Obviously. And, in case you were concerned, don't be. You too could have all of this, all for just $40 a month.
I would have accompanied my coffee with a bowl of cereal, only the milk had gone bad. So, I skipped breakfast and finished my book instead. I have to say though, after reading my last 2 books via Kindle (stolen from my mother) I found it inconvenient to have to turn my own pages. I've already picked out my next book to download (which is even better as the Kindle is also tied to my mom's Amazon account and credit card) which is apparently about how not to be too picky and how to avoid ending up alone. At least, that's what I got from the online excerpt. But, it comes highly recommended by trusted people, so Marry Him - The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough by Lori Gottlieb, it is.
Anyway, another month has come and gone. Was October super irritating to anyone else? I mean, so exciting that fall sports have started (woo, Go Caps!) but if I see another pink jersey I'm going to lose it. I mean, clearly, girls can make fantastic fans. But girls. Come on. Ravens fans especially. The color is already purple, so do you really need to sport a pink jersey instead? The day I try to "Rock the Pink" at Verizon Center, somebody, please stop me.
I've also rejoined match.com. I'm a masochist, I know. But in attempt to help my roommate get over a recent end to a relationship, I offered my support and we both joined together.
Here's the difference...she attracts somewhat normal, reasonably attractive, seemingly successful men. Me? I attract either 65 year old men or 30 somethings that think gang signs and sideways (or, should I say "sidewayz") baseball hats are attractive profile pics. Let me inform you...they're not.
The more profiles I read, the more I wonder what is wrong with people. Or, the more I wonder...am I too picky? Should I be flattered by the "winks" from men old enough to be my grandfather? Should I consider the guys who email me with the subject line of "Hi there pritty, what's you're name"? Should I have a 2nd date that needs to chug a beer before he can carry a half decent conversation? I also wonder what the author of "Marry Him" might have to say about my situation. Am I being too judgmental when it comes to my match.com suitors?
Most recently, I've been contacted by a guy who photographed himself sitting at his kitchen table, wearing no shirt, posing in his best Hulk Hogan "guns" stance. His profile reads, and I quote, "im a laid back kidda shy but tough nice funny a gentleman looking for the same in a woman. not greaty knows how to treat a ladie...."
I'm speechless. Obviously. And, in case you were concerned, don't be. You too could have all of this, all for just $40 a month.
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