Out to Pasture

My friends and I made a rare Friday night venturing off the couch (and after 9pm no less!) in honor of Prince last night. This was at a sort of club/hipster dance party spot.

Our first mistake was showing up on time, which was understandably uncool, so at first we gave the dj a pass on the lack of Prince at the Prince dance party. An hour passes, then another. Throughout the night we’ve been asking for the Prince and he says it’s coming. Meanwhile we’re chatting with other dance floor denizens and learning none are over 23. Still no Prince as the clock strikes midnight and our dancing shoes turn into orthopedic slippers. I ask the dj a final time and he tells me to calm down.

We headed back to our respected couches, where we’re appreciated and no one makes us wait for cheese and SVU and the music we want when we want it.

Why is there no happy medium between college dance party and quiet craft beer emporium? Once we turn 25 are we too hideous to be seen moving rhythmically outside the confines of our kitchen after a few glasses of wine?

I don’t want to be cool. I just want to dance in public.

Prince would not stand for this.  Make America great again. Dancing for all!

How to Feel a Little Less Lonely….

From the Today Show*, that bastion of feminism, comes a tip for putting on a bracelet alone: paperclips!

Twist it into an s and use it as an extender to hold the bracelet as you clasp.

Perfect for the independent office supply hoarder.

I’m sure when I’m feeling sad sacky I’ll still manage to feel bad that I’m staring into a paperclip putting on my bracelet instead of the eyes of a handsome man, but it’s better than nothing.

*from the Today show and apparently many other places. Photo credit: Lifehacker

I put on a pair of yoga pants tonight and realized I’ve had them since 2002.

One of the longest relationship I’ve ever had is with elastic-waist lounge wear. (Actually that is pretty apropos considering my commitment to lazing.)

Meanwhile, today in Facebook updates:

  • friend living in Hawaii with 3 kids
  • friend vacationing abroad with almost 3 kids
  • friend purchasing 2nd home

5 years ago these friends had 0 homes and 0 kids.

But 5 years ago I had my yoga pants and I still do. So that’s…something?

Hindsight Update

Right after last night’s post I heard from the guy. Paraphrased:

Bitter: What are you up to tonight?

Me: Eating popcorn and watching tv.

Bitter: Your not gonna invited me over lol

[Typed “I don’t share popcorn with people who can’t spell you’re” but forgot to hit send]

(15 minute later)

Bitter: Do you throw your phone across the room after you get a text?

Me: I’m very busy with tv.

Bitter: Whatever

So I think that’s settled. But when I got up this morning something happened and my first thought was “Oh I want to tell [my student].” And I realized that I’m more eager to talk to and spend time with a high school girl than this guy. It was a great reminder that a) my gut tells me when I like someone (on any level, and this guy doesn’t even meet student-teacher likeability levels) and b) I’m not so messed up that I can’t form relationships and share things. Even if those things are beating your score in Words with Friends.

 

Hindsight

Ever go on a date and it’s kinda ok and then you get home and start identifying all these dealbreakers?

This seems to be happening kind of a lot lately. While we’re hanging out chatting I’m not dying to get home. I think “I’d give him a second date.” Then I get home to my couch’s warm embrace away from the glow of whiskey and feel compelled to text.

“So I just went out with a more bitter version of [insert ex here].”

“So this guy tonight was grilling me about where I work. Is my job weird?”

“So this guy tonight said he puts butter in his coffee…”

(Ok so that last one is apparently a real thing. And actually something I might try when I’m not busy scarfing straight brown sugar.)

Am I sabotaging myself or am I trying so hard to be open minded I don’t even know what kind of company I like to keep anymore?

Like when I met up with the guy this week for drinks and he didn’t drink. That seemed weird and also awkward since I enjoy drinking and did so heartily. Naturally he didn’t pay for my drinks, which as we know is a major annoyance that I worry I should be more modern about but don’t want to be modern about. Espesh when my bar tab for the night is $9.50.

Also when I tried to explain him to a friend and said “he was kinda super negative but maybe it’s good to not always be optimistic?” Hearing myself out loud rationalizing a guy’s behavior by suggesting a positive outlook is a bad thing was jarring…

The past two half-hearted 2nd dates I regretted and the fact that I decided against sending a thank you text lest I have to have a conversation were a push to let it be a one and done with this guy. But I’ll keep wondering if I’m letting a guy’s one bad night keep me from a relationship or if I’m just too picky.

Trying to trust your (anxious, prone to depression) gut while also having an open heart is as confusing as it is tough.

 

 

*PS: That VH1 show Hindsight was awesome. Bring that back!

So Lonely

Actually not at all.

But apparently I’m supposed to be working hard not to feel bad this Valentine’s Day. Talking to a video of Fabio is better than being alone!

Usually Valentine’s Day is split between ugly jewelry ads and anti-Valentines promos (often overlaps with the Sexy and Single angle). Recently, the single-and-cool-with-it-so-I’ll-celebrate-with-my-bitches (but actually praying for a last minute date) group’s gotten played up.

And I’m always for the Pal-entine’s Day ideal. Stickers and puns and half price candy February 15!

However, it seems this year advertisers have caught on to the demographic of just-kinda-single-but-gonna-need-to-eat-Sunday. We get the Singles Blizzard:

This has no theme but delicious, yet somehow it’s supposed to be for singles like me. At least put a heart in it. Until I get a free blizzard by proving how man-free I am, don’t try to use my relationship status to sell things!

 

 

Credit: https://twitter.com/DairyQueen

(Wo)Man Up

I am facing an epidemic of p-word men. Men are not supposed to be high maintenance. Go drink your scotch and grunt somewhere. I have enough time keeping myself together, I can’t worry about stroking your ego.

The past week has featured two separate p-word situations. I’m sitting back and observing, because I am not going to jeopardize my content solo life surrounded by pets and pillows if I’m expected to put in work before the first date even happens.

Scene #1: OkCupid

Message exchanges begins and goes very well. Witty, casual, shared interests. Without fail, responds within 15 minutes of every message, but reliable is nice sometimes.

Then comes: “Not sure if this is too forward, but I thought maybe you might be open to chatting on text. Here is my number if that’s ok with you.”

You’re not asking for a kidney. Just exchange the numbers and carry on.*

Accidentally on purpose I text a few days later.

“Oh it’s so great to hear from you. I assumed I had been too forward and felt bad for giving you my number.”

If he feels bad about giving me a phone number can you imagine the trauma if he was late to dinner one night?

Needless to say, he has not mustered the courage to schedule a date. He has referenced his diet and the gym on more than one occasion. I even know where his gym is located. And I know what he bought at the grocery store to “keep it tight. Girls don’t want any roundness.” I was not aware of that but fine.

He has referenced things we could do on a date:

What kind of food do you like? If we went on a date, I’d need to know.

Yet, no dates. And I’m neither holding my breath nor keeping it tight in anticipation. I’m keeping it cheese.

Scene #2: I didn’t meet this guy online.

I repeat: I DID NOT MEET THIS GUY ON LINE.

Automatic first place. A real person interesting enough in real life to exchange numbers/accept my number thrust at him.*

Except then the multiple texts by the time I got home from the bar.

“I’m so grateful we talked. I’m just kicking myself for not having the courage to come up to you myself and talk”

(Pro-tip: Avoid revealing weakness and lack of self-confidence in the first text. Really, withhold all emotions until the 6 month mark, and even then save the gratitude for things like pizza.)

He did manage to set up a date relatively soon, and follow up without assuming my scheduling issues were an outright rejection. Unfortunately the actual planning of the date involved multiple messages requiring multiple 3/3 screens worth of text. No restaurant in the zip code was left unsuggested. I seriously almost cancelled, nervous he would pee his pants when I walked in the door.

Once we met up we really had a nice time. No sarcasm. He was gentlemanly, easy to talk to, and lighthearted. A red flag or two but a good time. He went along with petty bar theft and wanted to bet on football. He wins and his prize was a 2nd date with me. Adorbs! Flirtation AND Gambling.

Get home and again a text from him. This time assuring me that he wants a second date but he wants me to know I don’t really have to follow through with the bet if I don’t want to because I shouldn’t ever have to do anything I don’t want to do but it would be really nice to go out again because (^&@&^#$%*&)^$@()!*&^#$.

I assured him I’d be happy to go out.

Few days later I ask how the rest of his weekend was.

“Saturday was the highlight. I had sweet dreams all night after meeting a wonderful lady: you! I hope to be able to relive the night.

And no date request since then.

I’ll go out with him again, despite risk of barfing. But a 44 year old needs to figure out on his own how to ask for a 2nd date without reciting a sonnet.

I don’t do high maintenance. No one should have to. Sexist or not, you need to man up.

*Just ask for my number. Seriously. Don’t make me do the work!!

RPRT side effects

When you think about the RPRT, all you think about is the fun. You’ll feel special! You’ll do something way more exciting than the nap you had planned.

Unfortunately, there are often side effects. Almost all side effects target the spontanxious in particular.

Side Effect 1: Indeterminate hours spent text stressing. Why didn’t he text back? What did “come if u want” really mean? Does he even care if I’m there? Who did he go out with when I didn’t respond fast enough? Does he like her [obviously it’s a her] better?

And so on.

Side Effect 2: Spontaxiety explodes once you’ve made a plan and arrive to find you’re on a date with RPRT and 15 of his closest friends. These friends tend to be hot, young girls.

Scene 1: Roll up to apartment a little bit tipsy (having drunk enough to be open to social interaction but to not be incapacitated) and find 3 other people present for our date to “chill.” Ok, I kinda wanted to go out, this can work.

Scene 2: Roll up to nearby bar. Realize immediately my adorbs bicycle print sundress is the wrong choice upon seeing RPRT’s “friends” are exclusively hot, 21, and dressed like kardashians.

808 wholesale dresses mini dresses ivory bicycle print skater dress with v neck detail Ivory Bicycle Print Skater Dress with V Neck Detail Ivoryhttps://cdn-img-0.wanelo.com/p/cc4/04c/73e/3c7816fab13609f6fcc6c73/x354-q80.jpg

Imagine less material on the right outfit…

But it’s cool, I’ll just chat with RPRT since I don’t know much about him. Oh wait, every single girl is OMGSOEXCITEDTOSEE him, including inside jokes and nicknames.

There is one of me and 8 of them (x100 for the fact they’re a clique of 8) and they DO NOT want to share their cute friend, and my general kinda drunkness + social anxiety + being factually out of place do not mix well. But because this guy is RPRT, he doesn’t notice anything amiss and is just having fun. “Hey, you never know what’s gonna happen?!” Obviously I play along and sit in the corner smiling maniacally so everyone thinks I’m having fun. If I leave I’ll look lame, and if I hang on him I’ll look lame and possessive. So I waited it out till last call. Turns out so did all the other girls and hey, they’re all coming back to his house!

At that point I did step in to be like “um how many more girls are you gonna invite over?” “HA HA! What can I say, they’re just all buds that want to show up!”

Yes, what a hilarious coincidence. Once again.

Right Place, Right Time

I’m figuring out that my go-to guy type is the right place, right time guy.

This is the guy that’s totally up for anything at any time. He’s spontaneous and super fun. As long as you’re with him or available at the exact moment he decides to have fun.

Right Place, Right Time (RPRT) will text to see if you want to do something, and in the 10 minutes it takes you to respond/act cool by not responding too quickly, he’ll have found someone else to go with. He’ll literally go to your house, and if you’re not there, he’ll find plans with someone else before you make it home. “Sorry babe, things change fast with me!”

RPRT is always up to hang out, so he has an ever-expanding network contacting him and/or available for plans at any moment.

I like RPRT because RPRTs are super social and super laid back. They’re welcoming to everyone but completely not pretentious. And they’re having too much fun to settle down*! I’m attracted to RPRTs because I fancy myself a fun and spontaneous person. Take a half day to go day drinking on the waterfront? Yes! Sign me up!

Except I’m more of a spontanxious person…Take a half day to go drinking on the waterfront? Yes! Sign me up, after giving me at least 2 days’ notice and checking the weather. And please accept my wrath when the plan inevitably falls through because something else came up for you. (Something that is totally valid but still infuriating because something comes up every single time.) And accept my passive aggressive texts later trying to make you realize how hurt I am even though that thought never crosses your mind.

I’ve deleted RPRT from my phone a few times after especially egregious ditches. Like the one time I changed plans for a wedding to see him and something else came up. Or the time he called me to check if I was at a local bar because he didn’t want to run into me there while he was with another girl. (Or at least that’s what I decided the call was for. He swears he was nearby at happy hour and then his phone died). No, I don’t have his number memorized. But I do have confidence he’ll call again eventually, and I’ll have completely forgiven him. Because the lure of a 10 second window to decide whether you want to spend the day on a boat is too much to resist. And maybe someday his that whole “things change so fast” maxim will apply to him falling for me.

Wah Wah

*RPRT doesn’t settle down until the second he gets lonely and then he imprints on whatever girl he sees first and marries her within 6 months.