"What are you doing on a dating site? You are smart, funny and gorgeous!!!" This was not a comment made to me, but a comment directly copied and pasted from a comment on Facebook to a friend of mine who, against all of my advice, has joined eHarmony.
First, this comment sent me into a spiral of fury and rage. Then it made me actually hate a total stranger who clearly has never had to date in her adult life. More than I hate the people who say "How are you still single?"
I'll tell you how...
1. If you are an adult male who frequently takes shirtless selfies, don't post them on your dating profile. You know what this tells me? You're a douchebag. Or maybe you just really like the way you look. That's awesome. But unless I'm requesting to see you without a shirt on in your kitchen, wear a shirt.
2. "Sup" is not an email. This tells me you can't think of ANYTHING to say, and since I've already been on a date with someone who spoke 5 words in 2 hours, I'm not interested.
3. There, their, they're. Your, you're. To, too. I realize I shouldn't let this get in the way of love, because according to the aforementioned friend of a friend, smart people aren't using the internet for dating. Not to mention, do you not have a computer with spell check?
4. What does "drinks only on special occasions" even mean? More importantly, who only drinks on special occasions? What you might mean..."I only drink during appropriate occasions." What I hear? "I once took a sip of sacramental wine at church." Unless "Friday" counts as a special occasion, don't talk to me.
5. So you've traveled to cool places. Talk about that in your "about me" section. Or...in the email you send me instead of "Sup." Don't upload your entire Shutterfly album of pictures (without you in them) of all the sites you've seen from around the world. I have Google.
6. If you've been married before, that's ok. That's why they give you the option to select "Divorced." and me the option to say I don't care. However, I don't need to see the picture from your wedding day as your profile picture. I am not looking for a sister wife.
7. Is your best friend a girl? That's nice. I have a lot of guy friends. But I don't post pictures of them licking/kissing my face, holding my hand, gazing at me lovingly, etc. I see this on your profile, I think "player." I don't play games. Oh, and I'm way too old to date someone who forces me to use the word "player."
8. Don't "nudge" me. I don't want to be nudged physically, and electronically is just annoying. Really? You're pushy and we haven't even talked? That sounds like a dream relationship. And by dream relationship, I mean, in your dreams. Go "nudge" someone else.
9. Internet dating does not give you the right to act like a complete dirtball. If you are looking to exchange dirty pictures, or "sext" with complete strangers, there are websites you don't have to pay for. Also, I can't believe I'm the only woman to think a picture of your...my mom reads my blog...is unattractive. And no, I do not want to "play."
10. When you are given the opportunity to write your own question to one of your matches, don't ask "How far are you willing to go on the first date?" I'm sorry, but do you want that answer in baseball terms, since obviously we are 14 and about to make out in your parents basement?
I was going to sort these into a Top 10 kind of order but I'm having difficulty deciding what's the worst of the list. I'll let you decide. That said, I still think the Facebook comment was ridiculous and it's even more obvious to me now that the "smart, funny, and gorgeous" people who she thinks don't belong online need more help than ever finding someone in a world filled with idiots.
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
I am Living Proof.
When I was only 5 years old, you could find me in the beauty aisle of the grocery store testing out fun colors of nail polish, smelling all the different flavors of shampoo and body wash, and then sneaking my favorites into the shopping cart when my mother wasn't looking.
I’d find my way into my mother’s room to try on any type of makeup I could find in her drawers. When I was 11, I decided it was time to perm my hair for a new style, and by the time I was 16, I could no longer remember what my natural hair color actually was.
In high school, I deemed myself qualified to give my best friends free hair cuts, and somehow became the go-to for makeup for all the school dances. I was often so booked that I ended up doing my own face in the back of the limo on the way to the prom. True story.
My first year in college, I decided that a new school, 18 credits, a sorority, and a nearly full-time job wasn’t enough, so in the evenings, you’d find me at Von Lee International School of Aesthetics, earning my certificate in makeup artistry. And three months later, I was licensed by the State of Maryland.
For the next few years, I worked for companies like Merle Norman and Estee Lauder selling products to not only customers, but my own family and friends. I remember working at the Estee Lauder counter during college and telling my mom I wanted to drop out of school after I'd met the Account Executive. I knew right away, that was what I wanted to do.
Let's just say I lost that battle. So…I graduated…
With my bachelor’s degree under my belt, it was time to enter the “real world.” For years, you could find me behind a desk working in financial publishing. Just like I had always planned, I was working in Corporate America. I always liked my jobs after college, but it seemed like something was off. I was working hard all day, felt poor all night, and, there was just something missing…
So I got a part-time job.
People talk about love at first sight all the time. “The day I met your father, I just knew he was the man I was going to marry.” You’ve heard a similar story, right? Well, that’s what happened for me, with Aveda. After leaving my first interview for a temporary holiday position, I just knew. (I'm still waiting on that feeling regarding my future husband...)
I started with Aveda in November of 2007, and by February, I had applied for and accepted a full-time position to manage the store. A college degree, and here I was working in the mall. What have I done? Did I really just leave a job where a plastic cup of fine wine was often delivered to my desk on a Friday afternoon? Did I really just give up my weekends to sell shampoo?
4 years later it all makes sense. I'm finally where I've always known I wanted to be, and have accepted a job working in field sales for a company in the industry I love!
Some things are just rooted inside you. For me, it was something that was there even back in the day, at 5 years old, while grocery shopping with my mother. And now, instead of me sneaking products into her shopping cart, she somehow finds a way to add her favorite products into mine.
I don't want to say "I told you so," but...Mom? I told you so.
I’d find my way into my mother’s room to try on any type of makeup I could find in her drawers. When I was 11, I decided it was time to perm my hair for a new style, and by the time I was 16, I could no longer remember what my natural hair color actually was.
In high school, I deemed myself qualified to give my best friends free hair cuts, and somehow became the go-to for makeup for all the school dances. I was often so booked that I ended up doing my own face in the back of the limo on the way to the prom. True story.
My first year in college, I decided that a new school, 18 credits, a sorority, and a nearly full-time job wasn’t enough, so in the evenings, you’d find me at Von Lee International School of Aesthetics, earning my certificate in makeup artistry. And three months later, I was licensed by the State of Maryland.
For the next few years, I worked for companies like Merle Norman and Estee Lauder selling products to not only customers, but my own family and friends. I remember working at the Estee Lauder counter during college and telling my mom I wanted to drop out of school after I'd met the Account Executive. I knew right away, that was what I wanted to do.
Let's just say I lost that battle. So…I graduated…
With my bachelor’s degree under my belt, it was time to enter the “real world.” For years, you could find me behind a desk working in financial publishing. Just like I had always planned, I was working in Corporate America. I always liked my jobs after college, but it seemed like something was off. I was working hard all day, felt poor all night, and, there was just something missing…
So I got a part-time job.
People talk about love at first sight all the time. “The day I met your father, I just knew he was the man I was going to marry.” You’ve heard a similar story, right? Well, that’s what happened for me, with Aveda. After leaving my first interview for a temporary holiday position, I just knew. (I'm still waiting on that feeling regarding my future husband...)
I started with Aveda in November of 2007, and by February, I had applied for and accepted a full-time position to manage the store. A college degree, and here I was working in the mall. What have I done? Did I really just leave a job where a plastic cup of fine wine was often delivered to my desk on a Friday afternoon? Did I really just give up my weekends to sell shampoo?
4 years later it all makes sense. I'm finally where I've always known I wanted to be, and have accepted a job working in field sales for a company in the industry I love!
Some things are just rooted inside you. For me, it was something that was there even back in the day, at 5 years old, while grocery shopping with my mother. And now, instead of me sneaking products into her shopping cart, she somehow finds a way to add her favorite products into mine.
I don't want to say "I told you so," but...Mom? I told you so.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Flirting With Disaster
473. It's the number I used when I exaggerate..."I just worked 473 hours" or "Why does that person have 473 children?" 473. Also the number of people who have viewed me on match.com. How many people have I been on a date with? Well, this time? 4. How many people have I been on a 2nd date with? 1. Is it me, or do my odds suck?
I'll admit...I haven't always been so open. My mom would say I'm picky...that I'll find something wrong with everyone. And in the past, I suppose she was right. If you had abnormally small hands, or laughed like a hyena, I probably would have broken up with you by date 3. If you didn't laugh at my jokes, or sent an email with a spelling error, probably date 2 would have been cut short. Now though, it seems so much easier to call it quits on date 1, and I promise its not because I'm being picky.
My new rules are simple. Talk. Like, hold a conversation. If I leave feeling like I spent an evening with myself, then next time, I'll just do that. And if you have trouble with this task, let's go somewhere more entertaining than Chili's.
Next, don't black out. Drinking a case of Miller Lite (out of cans) at the bar is NOT a good first impression. If you can't remember the date tomorrow, then my guess it was as much of a waste of time for you as it was for me. At least, that's what I'm lead to believe until the text about how much fun you had (even though you forgot the 2 shots of vodka you downed) and can't wait to see me again. I mean...???
Third, don't be a douchebag and order for me and then expect me to pay half the check at the end of the night. Now don't get me wrong, I ALWAYS offer, and sometimes mean it. But first, let me offer before you pull out your TI-83 to calculate "splitsies", and if you do expect me to go dutch on the check of food I didn't want, don't call me the next day telling me how much fun you had, because you could have fooled me when you made me pay for your bad choice in wine and dessert.
This year I met two people I considered dating longer than 2 date term. Both times, my dream at a casual relationship was shattered by the pressure to commit after reaching the 6 hour mark of spending time together. The first time, I was confronted for not acting "into him" enough. Most recently, I've been asked to have "an honest moment" to talk about our feelings, and to lay down the terms of our, and I quote, "relationship." I thought girls were supposed to be the pushy ones? The ones who rush things? Instead, I seem to find the only 2 people online who feel the need to claim you as their own after a sushi dinner and Muppet movie. W. T. F.
I'll admit...I haven't always been so open. My mom would say I'm picky...that I'll find something wrong with everyone. And in the past, I suppose she was right. If you had abnormally small hands, or laughed like a hyena, I probably would have broken up with you by date 3. If you didn't laugh at my jokes, or sent an email with a spelling error, probably date 2 would have been cut short. Now though, it seems so much easier to call it quits on date 1, and I promise its not because I'm being picky.
My new rules are simple. Talk. Like, hold a conversation. If I leave feeling like I spent an evening with myself, then next time, I'll just do that. And if you have trouble with this task, let's go somewhere more entertaining than Chili's.
Next, don't black out. Drinking a case of Miller Lite (out of cans) at the bar is NOT a good first impression. If you can't remember the date tomorrow, then my guess it was as much of a waste of time for you as it was for me. At least, that's what I'm lead to believe until the text about how much fun you had (even though you forgot the 2 shots of vodka you downed) and can't wait to see me again. I mean...???
Third, don't be a douchebag and order for me and then expect me to pay half the check at the end of the night. Now don't get me wrong, I ALWAYS offer, and sometimes mean it. But first, let me offer before you pull out your TI-83 to calculate "splitsies", and if you do expect me to go dutch on the check of food I didn't want, don't call me the next day telling me how much fun you had, because you could have fooled me when you made me pay for your bad choice in wine and dessert.
This year I met two people I considered dating longer than 2 date term. Both times, my dream at a casual relationship was shattered by the pressure to commit after reaching the 6 hour mark of spending time together. The first time, I was confronted for not acting "into him" enough. Most recently, I've been asked to have "an honest moment" to talk about our feelings, and to lay down the terms of our, and I quote, "relationship." I thought girls were supposed to be the pushy ones? The ones who rush things? Instead, I seem to find the only 2 people online who feel the need to claim you as their own after a sushi dinner and Muppet movie. W. T. F.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Interviewing 101: 10 Things To Avoid
#1 In your cover letter, use spell check. And, while declaring your interest in the job "oppertuneity" make sure you spell the name of the company you're applying to correctly.
#2 When requesting applications...look the part of a professional. Do not wear lounge pants with "PINK" across your ass. Unless, of course, you are applying to Victoria's Secret. They may be flattered by your support.
#3 When asked why you left a prior job on your application, do not write "problems dealing with authority."
#4 While going door to door collecting applications from, well, everywhere, hide the other 72 applications somewhere besides your other hand. And, when asked why you want to work there, do not say "I just need a job. Anywhere." And definitely do not follow it by saying "I just need something for a few months until I find a job in the field I really want to work in."
#5 When asked why you left a prior job during an interview, do not say "I'm being sued for sexual harassment." And if you do say it, please...do not mean it.
#6 If your head itches, do not smack it while applying for a job at a store that sells hair products. I do not know how to reiterate this enough.
#7 If for some reason, you decide to work in retail...do not list your hours of availability as M-F, 9-5pm. Ain't gonna happen. Ever. Never ever.
#8 An interview is not a date. This means, do not flirt. And, no, you cannot have my number if this "job thing" doesn't work out.
#9 Leave your friends at home when you go to an interview. Or at least in the car. This is not a party.
#10 Do not NOT show up to your interview, then call days later (and try to reschedule) because your boyfriend was in a knife fight last night and you didn't want to miss visiting hours.
*All above tips based on actual events. Please, take them seriously as they will severely inhibit you from finding a job.
#2 When requesting applications...look the part of a professional. Do not wear lounge pants with "PINK" across your ass. Unless, of course, you are applying to Victoria's Secret. They may be flattered by your support.
#3 When asked why you left a prior job on your application, do not write "problems dealing with authority."
#4 While going door to door collecting applications from, well, everywhere, hide the other 72 applications somewhere besides your other hand. And, when asked why you want to work there, do not say "I just need a job. Anywhere." And definitely do not follow it by saying "I just need something for a few months until I find a job in the field I really want to work in."
#5 When asked why you left a prior job during an interview, do not say "I'm being sued for sexual harassment." And if you do say it, please...do not mean it.
#6 If your head itches, do not smack it while applying for a job at a store that sells hair products. I do not know how to reiterate this enough.
#7 If for some reason, you decide to work in retail...do not list your hours of availability as M-F, 9-5pm. Ain't gonna happen. Ever. Never ever.
#8 An interview is not a date. This means, do not flirt. And, no, you cannot have my number if this "job thing" doesn't work out.
#9 Leave your friends at home when you go to an interview. Or at least in the car. This is not a party.
#10 Do not NOT show up to your interview, then call days later (and try to reschedule) because your boyfriend was in a knife fight last night and you didn't want to miss visiting hours.
*All above tips based on actual events. Please, take them seriously as they will severely inhibit you from finding a job.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
A Brunette's Life
I think the reason I've stopped blogging is that my life has stopped being interesting. Ok fine...maybe jury duty and a perfectly peeled orange wasn't necessarily something you'd refer to as interesting...but it made me want to write. Now, the only things I'm remotely inspired to discuss are the only things I can't publish.
I thought about recreating my blog under a pen name...something with no link to me. But, a friend pointed out while debating starting her own mystery blog is that the people that read what I write are my friends. So, if I can't suggest it to my friends because I'm a ghost writer, how on earth do I score a reader? Clearly, most of the time, I'm not that riveting!
Then, I thought...throw caution to the wind, Shauna! Say what you want and deal with the aftermath later! Free yourself! But, as you know, confrontation and risk are hardly my forte, so...looks like we'll be hanging around here for a while. Luckily, Blogger has an app now so maybe the ability to blog on the go will help me stay focused? That said, if there are weird typos or spacing issues, this blog is via app so...testing and please forgive me.
Here's a quick catch up on life since my last entry...
I've rejoined match.com and jdate. Nothing positive on that news front. I think maybe I'll just start posting the ridiculous things I get in emails that men apparently think are cute/flattering/endearing. I'm sure you will all benefit much more than I do from them. Here's one of my recent...I am copying and pasting so all typos and misspellings are part of the real glory I received in my inbox...
"Hey pretty lady. You sound like a perfict match for me exept that your a Crapitals fan and that you a brunette. (yeah, I usually dig the blondes ;). But you're smile is so damn cute I had to shout you out. Drop me a line if you want a Pens jersey on me. LOL LOL. Oh, and Friends is the worst show ever."
I mean...??? That was a joke right? Compliment. Insult. Insult. Compliment. Insult. Insult. Yeah, that doesn't do well on my comparison chart at all.
Moving on. I was removed from an American Idol concert by 4 security guards in Atlantic City a few months ago. Apparently, paying $100+ for seats (don't judge me) and dancing don't go hand in hand. My vertical side swaying pissed people behind us off so much that they were scaling rows of chairs to try to knock me and friend over.
I'm 30 now. Or, 18 with 12 years experience as the candle my mom picked out for me proudly displayed. So now that I've grown out of my (very short lived) getting tossed out of a concert stage, I thought I'd learned my lesson that next time, I should perhaps buy lawn seats. Cheaper, more freedom, and more laid back people sit there. I was sure that would be the case! Wrong. Just a few nights ago, while having a low volumed conversation from my lawn chair, I got yelled at by a woman to shut up. Her yelling was louder than anything I said that night, and, I really felt like she should be much more concerned about her date who was sleeping (or dead) on a blanket next to her. Ugh.
My closet collapsed so I designed a custom closet that my dad built for me. I can't lie, it's pretty amazing. I (my dad) should probably go into business. California Closets For the Poor people. I think it has a ring! Wondering if I can post pictures from this app? Let's try...
What else? Well... yesterday I killed a spider. I also discovered a Pumpkin Spice flavored off brand Bailey's. Will let you know how it is.
That's all for now. I'll try to make my life more eventual or to think of something appropriate for all family and coworkers to read in the meantime. Goodnight!
I thought about recreating my blog under a pen name...something with no link to me. But, a friend pointed out while debating starting her own mystery blog is that the people that read what I write are my friends. So, if I can't suggest it to my friends because I'm a ghost writer, how on earth do I score a reader? Clearly, most of the time, I'm not that riveting!
Then, I thought...throw caution to the wind, Shauna! Say what you want and deal with the aftermath later! Free yourself! But, as you know, confrontation and risk are hardly my forte, so...looks like we'll be hanging around here for a while. Luckily, Blogger has an app now so maybe the ability to blog on the go will help me stay focused? That said, if there are weird typos or spacing issues, this blog is via app so...testing and please forgive me.
Here's a quick catch up on life since my last entry...
I've rejoined match.com and jdate. Nothing positive on that news front. I think maybe I'll just start posting the ridiculous things I get in emails that men apparently think are cute/flattering/endearing. I'm sure you will all benefit much more than I do from them. Here's one of my recent...I am copying and pasting so all typos and misspellings are part of the real glory I received in my inbox...
"Hey pretty lady. You sound like a perfict match for me exept that your a Crapitals fan and that you a brunette. (yeah, I usually dig the blondes ;). But you're smile is so damn cute I had to shout you out. Drop me a line if you want a Pens jersey on me. LOL LOL. Oh, and Friends is the worst show ever."
I mean...??? That was a joke right? Compliment. Insult. Insult. Compliment. Insult. Insult. Yeah, that doesn't do well on my comparison chart at all.
Moving on. I was removed from an American Idol concert by 4 security guards in Atlantic City a few months ago. Apparently, paying $100+ for seats (don't judge me) and dancing don't go hand in hand. My vertical side swaying pissed people behind us off so much that they were scaling rows of chairs to try to knock me and friend over.
I'm 30 now. Or, 18 with 12 years experience as the candle my mom picked out for me proudly displayed. So now that I've grown out of my (very short lived) getting tossed out of a concert stage, I thought I'd learned my lesson that next time, I should perhaps buy lawn seats. Cheaper, more freedom, and more laid back people sit there. I was sure that would be the case! Wrong. Just a few nights ago, while having a low volumed conversation from my lawn chair, I got yelled at by a woman to shut up. Her yelling was louder than anything I said that night, and, I really felt like she should be much more concerned about her date who was sleeping (or dead) on a blanket next to her. Ugh.
My closet collapsed so I designed a custom closet that my dad built for me. I can't lie, it's pretty amazing. I (my dad) should probably go into business. California Closets For the Poor people. I think it has a ring! Wondering if I can post pictures from this app? Let's try...
What else? Well... yesterday I killed a spider. I also discovered a Pumpkin Spice flavored off brand Bailey's. Will let you know how it is.
That's all for now. I'll try to make my life more eventual or to think of something appropriate for all family and coworkers to read in the meantime. Goodnight!
Thursday, June 2, 2011
There's Something About Mary
This past Monday, 4 of my closest friends went skydiving. Sadly, I had to work and could not complete my mission of remaining two feet on the ground, in charge of guarding purses, cameras and cell phones while they went forward with jumping out of a perfectly good plane from 14,000 feet in the air. I totally would have jumped. I just figured they'd be much more relaxed with their dive if they knew their personal belongings were secured. After all, they were so nervous, I wasn't sure they'd go through with it if I wasn't there cheering them on. From the ground. Safe and sound. But, yep definitely would have considered it otherwise. Might have thought about it. Potentially. If only I hadn't had to work. Or take care of personal belongings. Shucks. Thankfully though, even without my help, all 4 of them successfully completed their first (and hopefully last) skydive! But now it's my turn to be the dare-devil since I had to miss out on Monday...
On June 22, I will be traveling avec roommate to NYC. After 2 hours of Expedia, Skoosh, Travelocity, Hotels.com, and Hotwire-ing, we discovered this fancy little link called "unpublished rates". Basically, you pick an area and a star rating, and it gives you a special deep dark discount by allowing you to book a hotel without knowing the name until you confirm. Cool! Sounds like an adventure to me!
We may have been delirious, but after the hours of consistent $400 a night hotel options, the $225 option sounded like a dream. How bad could it be? It's in the area we wanted, it was close to our 3-star rating minimum (close, meaning 2.0) and it was such a steal! I like the mystery, I said. Do it, book it now, she said. And so I did. And so...we were sorry. Oh so very very sorry.
After coming so close to booking The New Yorker, and The Excelsior, where beds looked like giant pillows, and the decor delivered the sudden urge to go to Home Goods and redecorate, our undisclosed deal delivered The Days Hotel. Yep, a Days Inn. For a savings of a measly $100 total over 2 nights, we would be sleeping on cardboard boxes, and substituting sandpaper for carpet. Oh, and did I mention, the trip was non-refundable?
Panic set in. I've never laughed so hard or wanted to cry so much. What did we do? What were we thinking? And why on earth do we make decisions like this at 1am? Rage and panic settled in as I dialed the customer service number for Hotwire.com. I'm a salesperson damnit. I can convince them to cancel my reservation, right?
I first spoke with Sarah, who either transferred me because she couldn't understand me through my high-pitched anxiety ridden voice, or, because she couldn't handle telling me that there was nothing she could do. But I did not waiver. After 42 minutes of hold time, Mary picked up my call. And in the end, Mary refunded us our money. Mary is my hero.
Rumor has it that I'm not a risk taker. Or a thrill seeker. Or, adventurous. So what if I may not want to jump out of planes (solely because I'm just too good of a personal belonging watcher, of course), or off a bridge, or even book hotels blindly. I prefer to stay right where I am most useful and comfortable, on level ground, while occasionally taking trips to hotels that are nicer than my own house. I don't remember what I said to convince Mary to break the fully disclosed "no refund under any circumstance" rule for me, but I do know, I love Mary. And...that I could probably really sell ice to an Eskimo.
On June 22, I will be traveling avec roommate to NYC. After 2 hours of Expedia, Skoosh, Travelocity, Hotels.com, and Hotwire-ing, we discovered this fancy little link called "unpublished rates". Basically, you pick an area and a star rating, and it gives you a special deep dark discount by allowing you to book a hotel without knowing the name until you confirm. Cool! Sounds like an adventure to me!
We may have been delirious, but after the hours of consistent $400 a night hotel options, the $225 option sounded like a dream. How bad could it be? It's in the area we wanted, it was close to our 3-star rating minimum (close, meaning 2.0) and it was such a steal! I like the mystery, I said. Do it, book it now, she said. And so I did. And so...we were sorry. Oh so very very sorry.
After coming so close to booking The New Yorker, and The Excelsior, where beds looked like giant pillows, and the decor delivered the sudden urge to go to Home Goods and redecorate, our undisclosed deal delivered The Days Hotel. Yep, a Days Inn. For a savings of a measly $100 total over 2 nights, we would be sleeping on cardboard boxes, and substituting sandpaper for carpet. Oh, and did I mention, the trip was non-refundable?
Panic set in. I've never laughed so hard or wanted to cry so much. What did we do? What were we thinking? And why on earth do we make decisions like this at 1am? Rage and panic settled in as I dialed the customer service number for Hotwire.com. I'm a salesperson damnit. I can convince them to cancel my reservation, right?
I first spoke with Sarah, who either transferred me because she couldn't understand me through my high-pitched anxiety ridden voice, or, because she couldn't handle telling me that there was nothing she could do. But I did not waiver. After 42 minutes of hold time, Mary picked up my call. And in the end, Mary refunded us our money. Mary is my hero.
Rumor has it that I'm not a risk taker. Or a thrill seeker. Or, adventurous. So what if I may not want to jump out of planes (solely because I'm just too good of a personal belonging watcher, of course), or off a bridge, or even book hotels blindly. I prefer to stay right where I am most useful and comfortable, on level ground, while occasionally taking trips to hotels that are nicer than my own house. I don't remember what I said to convince Mary to break the fully disclosed "no refund under any circumstance" rule for me, but I do know, I love Mary. And...that I could probably really sell ice to an Eskimo.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Growing Up and Graying
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.
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, 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.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Desperate-er Housewife
The more I read (and re-read and re-read) my college essay, the more I realize how long its been since I wrote it.
A friend pointed out another fault with my essay...I'd assumed that I'd receive a paper invitation to the reunion. Formal invite, asking for my attendance. Reply card and everything. But, no. I was invited simply by Facebook. I received a friend request from my class president, followed by an immediate event invitation where I could reply electronically, and also post comments on the event wall. Maybe by the time I get married, it'll be totally normal to just text a date and time and just skip the whole invitation process in general.
Also. I'd imagined a prom like reunion (again, I'll refer to Romy and Michelle...great movie if you haven't seen it, by the way) in the high school gym/auditorium. We'd all meet back in the place where we originally formed our cliques, and reminisce as we walked through the overly decorated halls of a place we now knew as our alma mater. But, no. Our reunion was held at Power Plant Live, where I frequented too often during college. Often enough that I didn't feel the need to visit again. Not even for my reunion.
12 years. Have I really changed that much in 12 years? I don't feel like its been that long, and I certainly don't feel like I've really done much in all that time. But, during my first day off in over a week, I decided to be productive, and I continued to discover what 12 years really means...
At 17, on a day off, I might have slept until noon. Then, I would have driven to Dunks for a blueberry coffee. From there, I might have spent the day with my friends driving around in my silver Saturn, getting a manicure, going to the mall, and then trespassing after hours on a school playground. After that I might have gone to a party, where clearly parents were present.
Yesterday, I did this...
I woke up at 8:30am and forced my self to fake sleep for another half hour. I got up, made my own coffee via Keurig in the kitchen. As I drank it, I threw a load of laundry in the washer, got dressed, and drove to Columbia to meet my friend and her two kids at Target. I bought a box of cereal and some laundry detergent, and then drank Starbucks while attempting to maintain sanity amongst her two kids.
From there, I drove back home, moved laundry from wash to dry, and threw another load in. Then I cleaned the kitchen. Deciding to take a break, I sat on the couch to watch an "On Demand" episode of a recently discovered favorite show, How I Met Your Mother. I saw my own future as I watched the episode where Ted goes on a blind date with a girl who he realizes, he's already blind dated 7 years prior.
Realizing I hadn't eaten, I poured a bowl of my newly purchased cereal. It got soggy as I'd already poured the milk when I, A. Bought cheaper Target brand cereal because I've become my mother, and B. Realized I needed to swap the laundry again because, I've become my mother.
I decided to have soup instead. Because there was some left over, I searched for a tupperware container to save the rest when I realized, I have lids that have no matching container, and vice versa! How does that happen? Where does it go? Well this was just not ok, so, begin project "match lids to container and throw away the rest." Riveting.
That was essentially my day. So this morning, after folding my final load of laundry, I sat down with my coffee to finally watch this weeks Modern Family (seriously, if you don't watch this show you have to...I literally lol'd for nearly the entire episode). In one of the scenes, Claire, mom of three kids over the age of 10, realizes she has mismatched tupperware, and so she begins the same project I completed yesterday.
Somehow, in the midst of the last 12 years, I've skipped the regular steps of husband and kids part, and went straight to becoming my very own desperate housewife. Lucky for me, not only do I still have my grandmother offering to pay for more time online soulmate searching, but my mother, even while vacationing in California, full time searching for my husband offline. Every day, my parents send me an email with a picture of something in CA. Yesterday, it was a picture of them lunching in Laguna Beach, the day before, my dad living his dream on a Pebble Beach golf course. Today?
Email subject line: Good Looking Men.
Email: Your mother sending this for you. SWAT Team.
Picture:
As much as I've started to become my mother, I vow to never go this far...she likes the one in the black t-shirt. And yes, she said "Excuse me, you're very cute, can I take a picture of you to send to my single daughter in Baltimore?" Hopefully she followed it with "But she's very good at cleaning and doing laundry..."
A friend pointed out another fault with my essay...I'd assumed that I'd receive a paper invitation to the reunion. Formal invite, asking for my attendance. Reply card and everything. But, no. I was invited simply by Facebook. I received a friend request from my class president, followed by an immediate event invitation where I could reply electronically, and also post comments on the event wall. Maybe by the time I get married, it'll be totally normal to just text a date and time and just skip the whole invitation process in general.
Also. I'd imagined a prom like reunion (again, I'll refer to Romy and Michelle...great movie if you haven't seen it, by the way) in the high school gym/auditorium. We'd all meet back in the place where we originally formed our cliques, and reminisce as we walked through the overly decorated halls of a place we now knew as our alma mater. But, no. Our reunion was held at Power Plant Live, where I frequented too often during college. Often enough that I didn't feel the need to visit again. Not even for my reunion.
12 years. Have I really changed that much in 12 years? I don't feel like its been that long, and I certainly don't feel like I've really done much in all that time. But, during my first day off in over a week, I decided to be productive, and I continued to discover what 12 years really means...
At 17, on a day off, I might have slept until noon. Then, I would have driven to Dunks for a blueberry coffee. From there, I might have spent the day with my friends driving around in my silver Saturn, getting a manicure, going to the mall, and then trespassing after hours on a school playground. After that I might have gone to a party, where clearly parents were present.
Yesterday, I did this...
I woke up at 8:30am and forced my self to fake sleep for another half hour. I got up, made my own coffee via Keurig in the kitchen. As I drank it, I threw a load of laundry in the washer, got dressed, and drove to Columbia to meet my friend and her two kids at Target. I bought a box of cereal and some laundry detergent, and then drank Starbucks while attempting to maintain sanity amongst her two kids.
From there, I drove back home, moved laundry from wash to dry, and threw another load in. Then I cleaned the kitchen. Deciding to take a break, I sat on the couch to watch an "On Demand" episode of a recently discovered favorite show, How I Met Your Mother. I saw my own future as I watched the episode where Ted goes on a blind date with a girl who he realizes, he's already blind dated 7 years prior.
Realizing I hadn't eaten, I poured a bowl of my newly purchased cereal. It got soggy as I'd already poured the milk when I, A. Bought cheaper Target brand cereal because I've become my mother, and B. Realized I needed to swap the laundry again because, I've become my mother.
I decided to have soup instead. Because there was some left over, I searched for a tupperware container to save the rest when I realized, I have lids that have no matching container, and vice versa! How does that happen? Where does it go? Well this was just not ok, so, begin project "match lids to container and throw away the rest." Riveting.
That was essentially my day. So this morning, after folding my final load of laundry, I sat down with my coffee to finally watch this weeks Modern Family (seriously, if you don't watch this show you have to...I literally lol'd for nearly the entire episode). In one of the scenes, Claire, mom of three kids over the age of 10, realizes she has mismatched tupperware, and so she begins the same project I completed yesterday.
Somehow, in the midst of the last 12 years, I've skipped the regular steps of husband and kids part, and went straight to becoming my very own desperate housewife. Lucky for me, not only do I still have my grandmother offering to pay for more time online soulmate searching, but my mother, even while vacationing in California, full time searching for my husband offline. Every day, my parents send me an email with a picture of something in CA. Yesterday, it was a picture of them lunching in Laguna Beach, the day before, my dad living his dream on a Pebble Beach golf course. Today?
Email subject line: Good Looking Men.
Email: Your mother sending this for you. SWAT Team.
Picture:
As much as I've started to become my mother, I vow to never go this far...she likes the one in the black t-shirt. And yes, she said "Excuse me, you're very cute, can I take a picture of you to send to my single daughter in Baltimore?" Hopefully she followed it with "But she's very good at cleaning and doing laundry..."
Friday, September 24, 2010
One Enchanted Evening
"The lights dimmed as music from the late 90's hummed in the background. I stepped into the auditorium, took a quick look around, and scanned for familiar faces. Disappointed, I pivoted and started to the steps.
"Diet coke please," I requested politely. Already needing fresh air, I took my drink and headed back out through the double doors. I took a seat on what used to be my favorite bench, and placed my soda next to me. Last night, I sat awake in my bed, stared at the ceiling, as so many things ran through my mind. I'd envisioned the invitation that now sat on the nightstand beside my bed. "The class of nineteen hundred and ninety nine cordially invites you to share an Enchanted Evening, May 21, 2009, for its 10 Year Reunion."
It was interesting to me, and somewhat scary, that so much time had passed since I'd seen so many people I'd once called my friends. What have other people done with their lives? Would my real life meet up to the expectations people had for me? I felt as though I'd just stepped out of Romy and Michelle's own high school reunion. Would people believe I'd invented Post-Its?
I still haven't come up with the perfect way to describe my life. My teaching career is everything I could ask for. I work in an elementary school near home, teaching 2nd grade to a great group of kids. My husband is a successful journalist, writing for the local newspaper where we live in Amherst, Massachusetts. And, with two beautiful children, a dog, and a house with everything but the white picket fence, I have everything I've always wanted.
Thinking about this as I sat outside the reunion, on my favorite bench, just me and my diet coke, I realized something I hadn't before. I'm happy, and even though I haven't done anything particularly amazing, I've done everything I'd set out to do.
It was then that I wanted to share how far I'd come with everyone I bumped into. So with that, I stood up, and walked back through the double doors, more ready than ever to have that enchanted evening with the people who awaited me in the dimmed auditorium."
That was a college essay I wrote in 1998 to the theme of , "Where do you hope to be in 10 years time?" It's funny (and also depressing?) about how wrong I was about the life I'd imagined for myself back then.
A teacher? I'd made it exactly one semester in the education program before I realized that if I ever was going to have kids, I couldn't spend my entire days working with other people's.
A husband? Not much need to delve further into this I don't think.
Kids? No thanks, not now. Maybe one day? No promises, Mom.
Massachusetts? I'm guessing this was my essay for UMass Amherst, and yes, I did get in. And maybe had I gone there, I might have relocated (or have a husband?) but I chickened out, stayed local, and went to Towson U instead. Now that I think about it, I haven't even been to Massachusetts...
So clearly, my psychic abilities failed me at 18 and I got it all wrong. And in an effort to get my life back on track this year, I created this "Mark My Words" page. Now, I realize that I've done a terrible job at resolutioning after June. That said, I've also realized that its close to impossible to make so many significant changes in a year. Its not an easy thing to realize that your life isn't where you thought it would be. And its not an easy thing to figure out, and point out, all the things that are wrong with your life, (even if its just the fact that you can't keep up with your laundry) all while giving yourself a time limit.
I'm going to spend the next few months refocusing on this. Although that was the idea from the beginning, I think I went about it the wrong way, and have proof that it was considering that I feel less progressed than I did on New Years Day, and have epically failed at resolutioning and documenting. So game back on. No pressure on myself, as I'm not promising weekly changes. But, I can assure me, and you, that I plan to make the best of the end of 2010. And, as things progress, I will share.
As I'm sitting here typing and drinking my Bailey's and coffee, I've also just realized another thing I was wrong about in 1998. Most incorrectly, I'd imagined that in ten years, in a stressful situation, I'd order a diet coke to calm me down? Ha. So so very wrong...
"Diet coke please," I requested politely. Already needing fresh air, I took my drink and headed back out through the double doors. I took a seat on what used to be my favorite bench, and placed my soda next to me. Last night, I sat awake in my bed, stared at the ceiling, as so many things ran through my mind. I'd envisioned the invitation that now sat on the nightstand beside my bed. "The class of nineteen hundred and ninety nine cordially invites you to share an Enchanted Evening, May 21, 2009, for its 10 Year Reunion."
It was interesting to me, and somewhat scary, that so much time had passed since I'd seen so many people I'd once called my friends. What have other people done with their lives? Would my real life meet up to the expectations people had for me? I felt as though I'd just stepped out of Romy and Michelle's own high school reunion. Would people believe I'd invented Post-Its?
I still haven't come up with the perfect way to describe my life. My teaching career is everything I could ask for. I work in an elementary school near home, teaching 2nd grade to a great group of kids. My husband is a successful journalist, writing for the local newspaper where we live in Amherst, Massachusetts. And, with two beautiful children, a dog, and a house with everything but the white picket fence, I have everything I've always wanted.
Thinking about this as I sat outside the reunion, on my favorite bench, just me and my diet coke, I realized something I hadn't before. I'm happy, and even though I haven't done anything particularly amazing, I've done everything I'd set out to do.
It was then that I wanted to share how far I'd come with everyone I bumped into. So with that, I stood up, and walked back through the double doors, more ready than ever to have that enchanted evening with the people who awaited me in the dimmed auditorium."
That was a college essay I wrote in 1998 to the theme of , "Where do you hope to be in 10 years time?" It's funny (and also depressing?) about how wrong I was about the life I'd imagined for myself back then.
A teacher? I'd made it exactly one semester in the education program before I realized that if I ever was going to have kids, I couldn't spend my entire days working with other people's.
A husband? Not much need to delve further into this I don't think.
Kids? No thanks, not now. Maybe one day? No promises, Mom.
Massachusetts? I'm guessing this was my essay for UMass Amherst, and yes, I did get in. And maybe had I gone there, I might have relocated (or have a husband?) but I chickened out, stayed local, and went to Towson U instead. Now that I think about it, I haven't even been to Massachusetts...
So clearly, my psychic abilities failed me at 18 and I got it all wrong. And in an effort to get my life back on track this year, I created this "Mark My Words" page. Now, I realize that I've done a terrible job at resolutioning after June. That said, I've also realized that its close to impossible to make so many significant changes in a year. Its not an easy thing to realize that your life isn't where you thought it would be. And its not an easy thing to figure out, and point out, all the things that are wrong with your life, (even if its just the fact that you can't keep up with your laundry) all while giving yourself a time limit.
I'm going to spend the next few months refocusing on this. Although that was the idea from the beginning, I think I went about it the wrong way, and have proof that it was considering that I feel less progressed than I did on New Years Day, and have epically failed at resolutioning and documenting. So game back on. No pressure on myself, as I'm not promising weekly changes. But, I can assure me, and you, that I plan to make the best of the end of 2010. And, as things progress, I will share.
As I'm sitting here typing and drinking my Bailey's and coffee, I've also just realized another thing I was wrong about in 1998. Most incorrectly, I'd imagined that in ten years, in a stressful situation, I'd order a diet coke to calm me down? Ha. So so very wrong...
Monday, September 6, 2010
Sometimes You Want To Go Where Nobody Knows Your Name
On September 3, I was finally freed from my 3-month eharmony duties. I kept my end of the deal, met no one, and feel that I've proven my point about the lack of potential boyfriend that the .com's hold for me. The same day, I got invited to participate in an eharmony free communication weekend, and received an email from cyber competitor, match.com, for a 5 day free trial. What the hell, I thought...I love free things!
So, I updated my very old profile, and began my search for a soulmate (insert sarcasm here.) Here's the problem. I need to move. Out of 10 pages of what the site describes as "matches," I realized one thing. I have either A. dated these people, B. gone to school with these people, or C. decided previously that I do not want to date these people. Way too many familiar faces on this website. Way WAY too many.
But here's the issue. In trying old fashioned ways of meeting people (i.e. in real life) I have not had much luck. And by luck I mean I am not being approached by what you'd consider to be an available man. I've become way too close two too many times to becoming an unintentional homewrecker...
I was sitting at a restaurant/bar a few weeks ago with my roommate. We'd gotten off of work and decided to be wild vs. lame and actually do something with ourselves for once. So there we sat, chili garlic edamame and a glass of Malbec within reach, when we got approached by a group of 5 semi-normal looking men. Semi-normal, taking into consideration the one guy who was teetering with every step, looking like he drank one too many bottles of tequila moments earlier.
So the group of 5 in detail...tattoo guy, button down shirt guy, wine guy, drunk guy (will become vomit guy), and, the other guy. Tattoo guy and button down shirt guy took an immediate liking to my roommate, and wine guy approached me with a line of "What kind of wine are you drinking, looks like you need a refill, can I buy you one?" He then proceeded to tell me he can tell me what I'm drinking just by looking at it. Knowing that I had a rarer form of red this evening, I challenged him. He failed. He continued to fail, even after tasting it, obnoxiously, with a swirl, sniff, slurp, and swish. After finishing it, he insisted that he just buy a bottle for us to share. Fine by me.
And so we did, shared a really good bottle of wine, and, to my surprise, conversation. Wait just a minute, I thought to myself...a nice, normal, single guy in a bar, really? I must be crazy, but this seems to be going great! During the few hours of chat, the rest of the crew split off around us...tattoo guy and button down shirt guy stayed with my roommate, wine guy, drunk guy, and the other guy with me. Somewhere during all of this, drunk guy left, threw up on himself, and then washed his shirt in the bathroom sink. Button down shirt guy had the brilliant idea of trading shirts with him, so now vomit guy was wearing a too tight button down shirt, and button down shirt guy was wearing an inside out and soaking wet t-shirt. And no, I am not kidding.
Previously known as button down shirt guy comes over and says "Shauna, vomit guy wants your number, he really likes you but he's just drunk and shy and won't ask you himself." Umm, no. So politely, I declined. Almost immediately, wine guy gets defensive. "What, he wants her number? Are you kidding dude, that's not cool, we've been talking all night." And the page turner of the night, the other guy, a man of few, but always important words says "What do you care, you're married."
Annnnnd, done. Not only was he married, but, he was a newlywed. AND, in a super dirtball move, he had switched his wedding ring to his index finger on his right hand. Fantastic.
Then, more recently...the guy at work.
I was helping out in Columbia mall this past week when a guy and his mom came shopping. After they left, he returned, alone this time. Oh jeez, please don't return that hair product...you look so much better now than you did before I styled your hair! But no, he was not returning to return. He was simply back to let me know that he liked talking to me and thought it would be a great idea to give me his business card so we could talk again. Umm, ok! Now THIS is how you meet people, look at me go! We talked some more, and got on the topic, somehow, of hockey. He asked if I was a Caps fan, and then proceeded to tell me that he and his family are huge Caps fans. Then he said "Yeah, but my girlfriends family is from Pittsburgh so...." and his voice trailed off into an "oh sh*t" kind of place. Really? Really! What is with these people??
I think I have nothing left to say... except for maybe I really should consider moving? Here, a large percentage of my online matches are people I already know, and those I meet in real life face-to-face scenarios all seem to be married, taken, or 80. I won't get into detail about that guy but let's just say he wasn't an option...fml.
So, I updated my very old profile, and began my search for a soulmate (insert sarcasm here.) Here's the problem. I need to move. Out of 10 pages of what the site describes as "matches," I realized one thing. I have either A. dated these people, B. gone to school with these people, or C. decided previously that I do not want to date these people. Way too many familiar faces on this website. Way WAY too many.
But here's the issue. In trying old fashioned ways of meeting people (i.e. in real life) I have not had much luck. And by luck I mean I am not being approached by what you'd consider to be an available man. I've become way too close two too many times to becoming an unintentional homewrecker...
I was sitting at a restaurant/bar a few weeks ago with my roommate. We'd gotten off of work and decided to be wild vs. lame and actually do something with ourselves for once. So there we sat, chili garlic edamame and a glass of Malbec within reach, when we got approached by a group of 5 semi-normal looking men. Semi-normal, taking into consideration the one guy who was teetering with every step, looking like he drank one too many bottles of tequila moments earlier.
So the group of 5 in detail...tattoo guy, button down shirt guy, wine guy, drunk guy (will become vomit guy), and, the other guy. Tattoo guy and button down shirt guy took an immediate liking to my roommate, and wine guy approached me with a line of "What kind of wine are you drinking, looks like you need a refill, can I buy you one?" He then proceeded to tell me he can tell me what I'm drinking just by looking at it. Knowing that I had a rarer form of red this evening, I challenged him. He failed. He continued to fail, even after tasting it, obnoxiously, with a swirl, sniff, slurp, and swish. After finishing it, he insisted that he just buy a bottle for us to share. Fine by me.
And so we did, shared a really good bottle of wine, and, to my surprise, conversation. Wait just a minute, I thought to myself...a nice, normal, single guy in a bar, really? I must be crazy, but this seems to be going great! During the few hours of chat, the rest of the crew split off around us...tattoo guy and button down shirt guy stayed with my roommate, wine guy, drunk guy, and the other guy with me. Somewhere during all of this, drunk guy left, threw up on himself, and then washed his shirt in the bathroom sink. Button down shirt guy had the brilliant idea of trading shirts with him, so now vomit guy was wearing a too tight button down shirt, and button down shirt guy was wearing an inside out and soaking wet t-shirt. And no, I am not kidding.
Previously known as button down shirt guy comes over and says "Shauna, vomit guy wants your number, he really likes you but he's just drunk and shy and won't ask you himself." Umm, no. So politely, I declined. Almost immediately, wine guy gets defensive. "What, he wants her number? Are you kidding dude, that's not cool, we've been talking all night." And the page turner of the night, the other guy, a man of few, but always important words says "What do you care, you're married."
Annnnnd, done. Not only was he married, but, he was a newlywed. AND, in a super dirtball move, he had switched his wedding ring to his index finger on his right hand. Fantastic.
Then, more recently...the guy at work.
I was helping out in Columbia mall this past week when a guy and his mom came shopping. After they left, he returned, alone this time. Oh jeez, please don't return that hair product...you look so much better now than you did before I styled your hair! But no, he was not returning to return. He was simply back to let me know that he liked talking to me and thought it would be a great idea to give me his business card so we could talk again. Umm, ok! Now THIS is how you meet people, look at me go! We talked some more, and got on the topic, somehow, of hockey. He asked if I was a Caps fan, and then proceeded to tell me that he and his family are huge Caps fans. Then he said "Yeah, but my girlfriends family is from Pittsburgh so...." and his voice trailed off into an "oh sh*t" kind of place. Really? Really! What is with these people??
I think I have nothing left to say... except for maybe I really should consider moving? Here, a large percentage of my online matches are people I already know, and those I meet in real life face-to-face scenarios all seem to be married, taken, or 80. I won't get into detail about that guy but let's just say he wasn't an option...fml.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
The Lesser of Two Evils
I know. It's been a really, really, REALLY long time since my last post. However, in my defense, I'd been sans internet since July 10 and work somewhere that has a firewall designed for criminals.
But, lucky for you (and luckier for me), now that I have cut my ties with Verizon, (who, for the record, is the devil) my internet is working again and I'm full of things to write about. For example, let's talk about how much I hate Verizon.
I hate Verizon. Simply stated, harshly felt, HATE.
After deciding to upgrade my service to include long distance and faster internet, the upgrade resulted in no internet at all. For over a month. Until the point that I was driven to such I hatred, I have now become a 100% Comcast household, the lesser of two evils for sure. I hate Verizon.
Two days off of work sitting and waiting for a technician, hours and hours on hold, only to partake in frustrating, pointless phone calls to tech support, and still, no internet. I hate Verizon.
I was unable to do anything. Couldn't pay or view bills online, which as an eco-friendly paperless bill receiver, is an issue. Instead, I had to pay "convenience fees" to make my payments by phone instead. My wasted e-harmony money is even more wasted now because I couldn't even pretend to want to check my latest daily matches, and my Netflix account became pointless because I couldn't watch free movies online. Oh, and I couldn't blog. I hate Verizon.
Not only are they by far the worst utility company to deal with, but they are stupid. As if it wasn't bad enough that it takes the better part of an hour just to speak to a human, they make you continuously angrier as you sit, and wait. "For trouble with your internet, press 1." 1. "If you are unable to connect to the internet, press 1." 1. "Please hold." Holding.
27 minutes of elevator music later, "All of our operators are still assisting other customers. Did you know you can get faster service by visiting www.verizon.com, 24 hours a day?" Umm, yes. Yes I did. Which is why I'm trying to have you fix it. Because the internet makes things faster. But unfortunately Verizon, I pressed 1 because I am having trouble connecting to the freaking internet, so I cannot visit your freaking website!
And now, although I have working cable, phone, and internet, all not through them, its not over yet...I just received my final amount due, which includes charges of $70 for the "free" wireless router that came with my upgrade, another $70 for a second wireless router that I obviously would not have needed, and, full service charges for the month of July. I tried to log in to my verizon.com account to view the specifics of the bill and to make a payment, but apparently, am unable to view bills online now that I have closed my account. Excuse me while I go waste several more hours of my life on hold, only to lose it on the possessed billing rep who will likely tell me to visit the online site for faster service.
But, lucky for you (and luckier for me), now that I have cut my ties with Verizon, (who, for the record, is the devil) my internet is working again and I'm full of things to write about. For example, let's talk about how much I hate Verizon.
I hate Verizon. Simply stated, harshly felt, HATE.
After deciding to upgrade my service to include long distance and faster internet, the upgrade resulted in no internet at all. For over a month. Until the point that I was driven to such I hatred, I have now become a 100% Comcast household, the lesser of two evils for sure. I hate Verizon.
Two days off of work sitting and waiting for a technician, hours and hours on hold, only to partake in frustrating, pointless phone calls to tech support, and still, no internet. I hate Verizon.
I was unable to do anything. Couldn't pay or view bills online, which as an eco-friendly paperless bill receiver, is an issue. Instead, I had to pay "convenience fees" to make my payments by phone instead. My wasted e-harmony money is even more wasted now because I couldn't even pretend to want to check my latest daily matches, and my Netflix account became pointless because I couldn't watch free movies online. Oh, and I couldn't blog. I hate Verizon.
Not only are they by far the worst utility company to deal with, but they are stupid. As if it wasn't bad enough that it takes the better part of an hour just to speak to a human, they make you continuously angrier as you sit, and wait. "For trouble with your internet, press 1." 1. "If you are unable to connect to the internet, press 1." 1. "Please hold." Holding.
27 minutes of elevator music later, "All of our operators are still assisting other customers. Did you know you can get faster service by visiting www.verizon.com, 24 hours a day?" Umm, yes. Yes I did. Which is why I'm trying to have you fix it. Because the internet makes things faster. But unfortunately Verizon, I pressed 1 because I am having trouble connecting to the freaking internet, so I cannot visit your freaking website!
And now, although I have working cable, phone, and internet, all not through them, its not over yet...I just received my final amount due, which includes charges of $70 for the "free" wireless router that came with my upgrade, another $70 for a second wireless router that I obviously would not have needed, and, full service charges for the month of July. I tried to log in to my verizon.com account to view the specifics of the bill and to make a payment, but apparently, am unable to view bills online now that I have closed my account. Excuse me while I go waste several more hours of my life on hold, only to lose it on the possessed billing rep who will likely tell me to visit the online site for faster service.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Pick a Card, Any Card....Again
We were supposed to go to Disneyworld. Instead, we ended up at the psychic...
While my friend C's husband was away at a bachelor party, we were going to live it up...me, an actual single girl with no ties to Owings Mills. Her, a weekend off from married life...unchosen, but happening nonetheless. Unfortunately, we're all talk, and our 4 day weekend to Mickeytown never got booked. So, we decided on an overnight to NYC. Clearly, that was too expensive on super short notice, so DC it was. Except, it wasn't, and we ended up going nowhere. Except to Mt. Washington Tavern and the psychic.
It wasn't the first time I went to Savetta. In a prior blog entry from back in the day, I shared parts of my first visit with the lady who claims to know everything and proves she does know some things. Last time, I discussed how I safely avoided the death card during my tarot reading because I believe I have psychic abilities myself. This time, she told me that I have psychic abilities that I'm not completely connected to. Weird.
This time...
She told me I'm a happy person on the outside, a jokester, and that I cover up my real feelings. She told me that I'm a hard worker and that I work in a business that helps people. She wondered what it was that happened to me 7 months ago that caused so much doubt, confusion, and pain. Huh...
Apparently, in the next 4 years, I'm going to own my own business and will be very successful. I have two men in my life. One, from the past who has not let me go, and one from my present, who I already know. This guy cares very deeply about me and I should open myself up to the possibilites of him. Of course, she did not tell me who on earth this guy was, or, where I could find him. Then, she told me I would live until I'm 97. Of course I am.
Since I have no idea who this "present guy" is, I'm assuming she didn't get it all right, so I guess I better get cracking on this eharmony situation, because 68 more years of life is a long time to do it alone.
One problem. My matches are crap. Of the 97 people I've been matched to, I've been intrigued by less than a few. Then, the one guy who I got to the "must have/can't stand" stage with couldn't stand pretty much everything about me...he "can't stand" people who aren't strongly spiritual, need alone time, or, have a sarcastic tendency. Great job on that match eharmony. Really, I applaud you.
Almost one month down and two to go. This just might be the worst $50 I (my grandmother) has ever spent. I'm trying so hard to get you some fun date stories, but, if I can't get past the stage 2 level of communication, its going to be hard. So, here's to hoping that my next set of matches consists of a healthy handful of men who "must have" a sarcastic , agnostic, independant woman. Sing it, Beyonce.
While my friend C's husband was away at a bachelor party, we were going to live it up...me, an actual single girl with no ties to Owings Mills. Her, a weekend off from married life...unchosen, but happening nonetheless. Unfortunately, we're all talk, and our 4 day weekend to Mickeytown never got booked. So, we decided on an overnight to NYC. Clearly, that was too expensive on super short notice, so DC it was. Except, it wasn't, and we ended up going nowhere. Except to Mt. Washington Tavern and the psychic.
It wasn't the first time I went to Savetta. In a prior blog entry from back in the day, I shared parts of my first visit with the lady who claims to know everything and proves she does know some things. Last time, I discussed how I safely avoided the death card during my tarot reading because I believe I have psychic abilities myself. This time, she told me that I have psychic abilities that I'm not completely connected to. Weird.
This time...
She told me I'm a happy person on the outside, a jokester, and that I cover up my real feelings. She told me that I'm a hard worker and that I work in a business that helps people. She wondered what it was that happened to me 7 months ago that caused so much doubt, confusion, and pain. Huh...
Apparently, in the next 4 years, I'm going to own my own business and will be very successful. I have two men in my life. One, from the past who has not let me go, and one from my present, who I already know. This guy cares very deeply about me and I should open myself up to the possibilites of him. Of course, she did not tell me who on earth this guy was, or, where I could find him. Then, she told me I would live until I'm 97. Of course I am.
Since I have no idea who this "present guy" is, I'm assuming she didn't get it all right, so I guess I better get cracking on this eharmony situation, because 68 more years of life is a long time to do it alone.
One problem. My matches are crap. Of the 97 people I've been matched to, I've been intrigued by less than a few. Then, the one guy who I got to the "must have/can't stand" stage with couldn't stand pretty much everything about me...he "can't stand" people who aren't strongly spiritual, need alone time, or, have a sarcastic tendency. Great job on that match eharmony. Really, I applaud you.
Almost one month down and two to go. This just might be the worst $50 I (my grandmother) has ever spent. I'm trying so hard to get you some fun date stories, but, if I can't get past the stage 2 level of communication, its going to be hard. So, here's to hoping that my next set of matches consists of a healthy handful of men who "must have" a sarcastic , agnostic, independant woman. Sing it, Beyonce.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Third Times A Charm?
Ha. That's what comes to mind when I think about today. It was ridiculous when I woke up at 5:37am when I didn't have to work until 10. Ha. It was typical when I got in line at Dunkin Donuts this morning, behind someone who was apparently catering a party for 700. Ha! Laughable when I pulled into the parking garage at work to open the store and couldn't find a parking spot! Ahahahaha!
Really, it was one of those days.
On my lunch break, I noticed a nice looking guy engagement ring shopping for his girlfriend. I also noticed him flirting as he entered the salesgirl's phone number into his Blackberry Storm. I'm going to guess that that marriage won't end well...
When I got home today, I felt lucky to be alive. Considering the 3 funny times I almost got run off the road on 97, given the finger multiple times all for unknown reasons, and then when I finally made it home, I could barely contain my road rage behind an off duty cop who was driving side by side to another car, windows down, carrying a conversation from his car to theirs. Really? Really. Ha!
Now I'm in bed trying to force myself to fall asleep. Clearly, its not working. What is wrong with me? I should be passing out the second my head hits the pillow. Lately, in all my non-plan cancelling, I've been partying like a (lame) rockstar! Trying to find balance is seemingly impossible. I have very little spare time because of my unsteady work schedule. But, when I am off, I want to be hanging out with my friends, not resting up in preparation for my next long day of busyness! That said, I've been having a blast, but am feeling (and looking) like a rundown trainwreck. Whatever. At least most bars are dark until last call when it simply doesn't matter anymore..
To catch you up on some recent events...
During a family dinner at my 'rents house, my grandmother informed me that she'd like to sign over a check to cover three months of internet dating. As I choked on my green bean, caught myself from falling out of my chair, and resisted the urge to vomit, she informed me that she'd really like me to give it just "one last try." I told her that that is what the last two times I followed her advice for were. "Third times the charm," she said.
So, after a few weeks of annoying conversations at family dinners about who the most recent internet matched couples were, I've succumbed to the pressure, braced myself, and joined e-harmony for a bargain price. Thank you coupon code.
For a mere $44, I have 3 full months of access to my most compatible matches. Woo. 3 days, 29 matches, and zero interest later, I'm pretty sure I wasted perfectly good money that could have been put to much better use...in a bar.
Good news is, I have a feeling that I give in and go out on actual nightmare dates, I'm going to have so much to write about! So, although this may not be the way to my soulmate, I'm pretty certain that its the way to a writer's block free world!
Moving on...I'm guessing its obvious that I haven't been documenting my resolutions in a while. But I do have a few worth discussing...
First. I may be known as the girl who always wears black. Don't get me wrong, I'm far from goth, hardly depressed, and definitely not color blind. I do, however, think most colors are ugly, and have trouble venturing out into the dangerous world of primary, pastel, and neon. However. I have recently been experimenting with mild colors like gray, green, and even a little purple. We'll see how long it lasts.
Second. I've purposely been living selfishly. I like to do what I want when I want. I'm thankful every day for the fact that I've yet to have kids, and that my world can revolve solely around me. Being less selfish is probably a pretty solid resolution considering that it can tend to turn into a really bad character flaw. So, when my roomie asked a smidge over a week ago what I though about getting a dog...I was hesitant. And then, she showed me her picture.
How can you resist that face? So I didn't. And so now, for just under 2 weeks, we have become parents to Bella. And I use the word "parents" quite appropriately. We've been up several times at 2am to walk her, then again at 5, and again at 7. We've cleaned up some pretty gross messes. And, it's a whole 'nother being you have to remember to feed. Crazy considering the two of us have trouble remembering to eat dinner half the time ourselves!
On the bright side though, she is SO cute. She loves being a lap dog, and for about 15 more lbs, she can be. She's super fun, fvery riendly, and so far, a really good dog! Although, getting a dog has proven kids to be even more scary now. I thought about it being pretty similar (almost exact really) until I realized that it couldn't be more different. After all, I'm pretty sure that when your kid has done something wrong, you'd be frowned upon if you proceeded to rub its face in its own bodily fluids, dragged it outside on a leash, and then locked it up in a crate with no toys...
Really, it was one of those days.
On my lunch break, I noticed a nice looking guy engagement ring shopping for his girlfriend. I also noticed him flirting as he entered the salesgirl's phone number into his Blackberry Storm. I'm going to guess that that marriage won't end well...
When I got home today, I felt lucky to be alive. Considering the 3 funny times I almost got run off the road on 97, given the finger multiple times all for unknown reasons, and then when I finally made it home, I could barely contain my road rage behind an off duty cop who was driving side by side to another car, windows down, carrying a conversation from his car to theirs. Really? Really. Ha!
Now I'm in bed trying to force myself to fall asleep. Clearly, its not working. What is wrong with me? I should be passing out the second my head hits the pillow. Lately, in all my non-plan cancelling, I've been partying like a (lame) rockstar! Trying to find balance is seemingly impossible. I have very little spare time because of my unsteady work schedule. But, when I am off, I want to be hanging out with my friends, not resting up in preparation for my next long day of busyness! That said, I've been having a blast, but am feeling (and looking) like a rundown trainwreck. Whatever. At least most bars are dark until last call when it simply doesn't matter anymore..
To catch you up on some recent events...
During a family dinner at my 'rents house, my grandmother informed me that she'd like to sign over a check to cover three months of internet dating. As I choked on my green bean, caught myself from falling out of my chair, and resisted the urge to vomit, she informed me that she'd really like me to give it just "one last try." I told her that that is what the last two times I followed her advice for were. "Third times the charm," she said.
So, after a few weeks of annoying conversations at family dinners about who the most recent internet matched couples were, I've succumbed to the pressure, braced myself, and joined e-harmony for a bargain price. Thank you coupon code.
For a mere $44, I have 3 full months of access to my most compatible matches. Woo. 3 days, 29 matches, and zero interest later, I'm pretty sure I wasted perfectly good money that could have been put to much better use...in a bar.
Good news is, I have a feeling that I give in and go out on actual nightmare dates, I'm going to have so much to write about! So, although this may not be the way to my soulmate, I'm pretty certain that its the way to a writer's block free world!
Moving on...I'm guessing its obvious that I haven't been documenting my resolutions in a while. But I do have a few worth discussing...
First. I may be known as the girl who always wears black. Don't get me wrong, I'm far from goth, hardly depressed, and definitely not color blind. I do, however, think most colors are ugly, and have trouble venturing out into the dangerous world of primary, pastel, and neon. However. I have recently been experimenting with mild colors like gray, green, and even a little purple. We'll see how long it lasts.
Second. I've purposely been living selfishly. I like to do what I want when I want. I'm thankful every day for the fact that I've yet to have kids, and that my world can revolve solely around me. Being less selfish is probably a pretty solid resolution considering that it can tend to turn into a really bad character flaw. So, when my roomie asked a smidge over a week ago what I though about getting a dog...I was hesitant. And then, she showed me her picture.
How can you resist that face? So I didn't. And so now, for just under 2 weeks, we have become parents to Bella. And I use the word "parents" quite appropriately. We've been up several times at 2am to walk her, then again at 5, and again at 7. We've cleaned up some pretty gross messes. And, it's a whole 'nother being you have to remember to feed. Crazy considering the two of us have trouble remembering to eat dinner half the time ourselves!
On the bright side though, she is SO cute. She loves being a lap dog, and for about 15 more lbs, she can be. She's super fun, fvery riendly, and so far, a really good dog! Although, getting a dog has proven kids to be even more scary now. I thought about it being pretty similar (almost exact really) until I realized that it couldn't be more different. After all, I'm pretty sure that when your kid has done something wrong, you'd be frowned upon if you proceeded to rub its face in its own bodily fluids, dragged it outside on a leash, and then locked it up in a crate with no toys...
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Cinco De Crapo
It's been a rough few weeks and today became the icing on the cake. The cherry on the ice cream sundae. The straw that broke the camels back.
Nothing happened in particular, but weeks of long days at work, sleepless nights, and too much time to think about everything that sucks has kinda taken its toll. As if my recent resemblance to Shrek wasn't bad enough (side effect of insomnia...at least I hope that's all it is...) my extra hours of hard work are not yet paying off, I found a shoebox full of pictures and paraphernalia during spring cleaning that forced me to reminisce and then be sad, and, I didn't even get to drink a margarita (or 7) in attempt to forget about it all because I got stood up for plans. (Don't get excited, Mom, it wasn't a date.)
So, what better day than today to start back up with resolutioning. For a while now, I've been terrible at commitment. I'm constantly cancelling plans with my friends. Most of you can probably name a recent last minute cancellation due to either absentmindedness, illness, exhaustion, work, work, or... work. Sad, but true, if you don't live in a 1 mile, last minute plans kind of radius from me, chances are you haven't seen me in months. Although some of these cancellation reasons are out of my control, moving forward, I plan to do whatever it takes to become a more reliable person again. Knowing that I can't be depended on right now is horrible, so whatever it takes, I'm going to win the lottery and not have anything else to do ever except make plans and show up! Or, if by any chance that doesn't happen, I'll do whatever it takes to make sure that I will do everything in my power to be there when I say I will. No excuses.
Basically, I'm on a mission to find balance. In the meantime, I'm going to find some tequila. Crappy, I mean, Happy Cinco De Mayo everyone!
Nothing happened in particular, but weeks of long days at work, sleepless nights, and too much time to think about everything that sucks has kinda taken its toll. As if my recent resemblance to Shrek wasn't bad enough (side effect of insomnia...at least I hope that's all it is...) my extra hours of hard work are not yet paying off, I found a shoebox full of pictures and paraphernalia during spring cleaning that forced me to reminisce and then be sad, and, I didn't even get to drink a margarita (or 7) in attempt to forget about it all because I got stood up for plans. (Don't get excited, Mom, it wasn't a date.)
So, what better day than today to start back up with resolutioning. For a while now, I've been terrible at commitment. I'm constantly cancelling plans with my friends. Most of you can probably name a recent last minute cancellation due to either absentmindedness, illness, exhaustion, work, work, or... work. Sad, but true, if you don't live in a 1 mile, last minute plans kind of radius from me, chances are you haven't seen me in months. Although some of these cancellation reasons are out of my control, moving forward, I plan to do whatever it takes to become a more reliable person again. Knowing that I can't be depended on right now is horrible, so whatever it takes, I'm going to win the lottery and not have anything else to do ever except make plans and show up! Or, if by any chance that doesn't happen, I'll do whatever it takes to make sure that I will do everything in my power to be there when I say I will. No excuses.
Basically, I'm on a mission to find balance. In the meantime, I'm going to find some tequila. Crappy, I mean, Happy Cinco De Mayo everyone!
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