If you’re wondering what keeps a surly single woman from blogging, I’m betting to say it’s because her family is in town.
And while I love my family dearly, they still have the ability to suck away every moment of my free time while they are here. (I humbly oblige, of course.)
But right now its 2pm on a Sunday afternoon. All is quiet and I have nothing to do.
Finally.
:)))))))))))))))))
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
How am I Supposed to...
How am I supposed to get over a man who writes me things like this? (Sent to me just last night, btw)...
“Kat, I cannot bear this silence. I do not thrive in it and I fight to understand it. It has eaten me alive. I want to be your friend but I do not know if I can separate the lover in me. I want to sit across a dinner table but I would probably find that the plates get in the way of stroking your hand; I want to go to a movie, but your smell would probably make me dizzy. I want to be your friend nevertheless.
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her.
To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.”
(Pablo Neruda)
That, my friends, is The Argentine.
“Kat, I cannot bear this silence. I do not thrive in it and I fight to understand it. It has eaten me alive. I want to be your friend but I do not know if I can separate the lover in me. I want to sit across a dinner table but I would probably find that the plates get in the way of stroking your hand; I want to go to a movie, but your smell would probably make me dizzy. I want to be your friend nevertheless.
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her.
To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.”
(Pablo Neruda)
That, my friends, is The Argentine.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Sushi with The Teacher (a.k.a "Just Kidding")
Have you ever seen that sketch on SNL Weekend Update where actress Kristin Wiig comes out as “Judy Grimes, the ‘Just Kidding Woman’”? (If you haven't, watch it here)
That was my date.
The Teacher was actually a really nice guy. REALLY. I mean, seriously, a nice guy. And I could tell he loves being a dad (I have a super Spidey sense in this area).
I don’t know if he was nervous or just the Chatty Cathy type, but man-oh-man, this guy could be an auctioneer with how fast he talked. And what I found strange was that he kept making really bad jokes and then saying, “just kidding” after them.
A word of advice: If you have to say just kidding at the end of a joke, your delivery was too poor for it to actually be considered a joke.
I have to admit that it was overall a pretty good date. But as sushi came to an end I just had to face the fact that there was NO chemistry between us. I’m sure he wasn't expecting me to go home directly after dinner, but when I offered to pay for half the check, I think he got the hint.
He didn’t let me pay. An outright gentlemanly move. So thank you, Teacher. You really are a nice guy, and nice guys don't always finish last.
They just don't get to sleep with me.
("Just kidding")
;)
That was my date.
The Teacher was actually a really nice guy. REALLY. I mean, seriously, a nice guy. And I could tell he loves being a dad (I have a super Spidey sense in this area).
I don’t know if he was nervous or just the Chatty Cathy type, but man-oh-man, this guy could be an auctioneer with how fast he talked. And what I found strange was that he kept making really bad jokes and then saying, “just kidding” after them.
A word of advice: If you have to say just kidding at the end of a joke, your delivery was too poor for it to actually be considered a joke.
I have to admit that it was overall a pretty good date. But as sushi came to an end I just had to face the fact that there was NO chemistry between us. I’m sure he wasn't expecting me to go home directly after dinner, but when I offered to pay for half the check, I think he got the hint.
He didn’t let me pay. An outright gentlemanly move. So thank you, Teacher. You really are a nice guy, and nice guys don't always finish last.
They just don't get to sleep with me.
("Just kidding")
;)
Oh God, What Have I Done....
Last night I went on my third “first date" since being 35 and newly single. And while I am still very new to the online dating world, I realized at the end of the night that I really should start writing this stuff down because not even Hunter S. Thompson could dream up some of the weird shit that happens on first dates.
I shall at some point divulge how I became single at 35 with a 4-year-old daughter and why exactly I waited an entire year after the separation from my husband to embark on an online dating mission (namely one very sexy Argentine). But for now I'll focus on my most recent first date: Jerry. Jerry is 41 and I met him last night at a great little seedy bar & grill in Toluca Lake.
I’m calling him Jerry because he works in the production offices of a very prominent Hollywood producer by the same name, and trust me, he won’t let you forget it. It’s not that he’s pretentious per se, because we talked ad nauseum about how morally corrupt the entertainment industry can be. But he did deem himself the authority on everything there is to know about movies…and screenplays…and actors…and music…and pop culture….
But food? When the issue of grabbing a bite to eat came up, he proceeded to tell me that he only eats the following foods: Peanut Butter & Jelly Sandwiches, French Fries, Pancakes, Scrambled Eggs, Carrots, Mixed Nuts and Chips.
Chicken? “Nope.”
Pasta? “Nuh-uh.”
Fish? “Forget it.”
Meat? “Well, I DO eat hamburgers…but plain.” Plain means a burger and a bun. No cheese, no lettuce, no pickles, no nuthin.
Excuse me, but did I mention I’m a chef?
Jerry’s profile appeared to be fantastic: He touted himself as romantic, passionate, poetic, sensitive, likes kids & dogs, etc., etc. And after my last two disastrous “first” dates, he seemed refreshing.
But romantic and passionate soon turned into a wee-bit crazy.
Well into his 3rd glass of wine, Jerry decided to kiss me. And hey, it wasn’t bad. Certainly a better kiss than date-guy #1 and date-guy #2 was a total flop so, what the hell, right? A girl could use a little kissy-face sometimes.
But suddenly I felt like the “mouse” in Of Mice and Men. In the seconds that followed our first lip-lock, somehow I became his main squeeze…literally. He sidled up next to me in the booth and wrapped his arm around me so tight I felt as if I was in a straight jacket. And he wasn’t just holding my hand, or caressing it, or even massaging it, but CRUSHING IT. I had to play a little offensive guard to say the least.
Fortunately, or rather unfortunately (but it gave me a reason to leave), I received a phone call that my daughter wasn’t feeling well, so I politely excused myself for the evening. Jerry was generous enough to pick up the tab for our drinks… but, did I mention he whipped out a calculator to figure the tip? Oy vey…
Tonight: Dinner with "The Teacher."
I shall at some point divulge how I became single at 35 with a 4-year-old daughter and why exactly I waited an entire year after the separation from my husband to embark on an online dating mission (namely one very sexy Argentine). But for now I'll focus on my most recent first date: Jerry. Jerry is 41 and I met him last night at a great little seedy bar & grill in Toluca Lake.
I’m calling him Jerry because he works in the production offices of a very prominent Hollywood producer by the same name, and trust me, he won’t let you forget it. It’s not that he’s pretentious per se, because we talked ad nauseum about how morally corrupt the entertainment industry can be. But he did deem himself the authority on everything there is to know about movies…and screenplays…and actors…and music…and pop culture….
But food? When the issue of grabbing a bite to eat came up, he proceeded to tell me that he only eats the following foods: Peanut Butter & Jelly Sandwiches, French Fries, Pancakes, Scrambled Eggs, Carrots, Mixed Nuts and Chips.
Chicken? “Nope.”
Pasta? “Nuh-uh.”
Fish? “Forget it.”
Meat? “Well, I DO eat hamburgers…but plain.” Plain means a burger and a bun. No cheese, no lettuce, no pickles, no nuthin.
Excuse me, but did I mention I’m a chef?
Jerry’s profile appeared to be fantastic: He touted himself as romantic, passionate, poetic, sensitive, likes kids & dogs, etc., etc. And after my last two disastrous “first” dates, he seemed refreshing.
But romantic and passionate soon turned into a wee-bit crazy.
Well into his 3rd glass of wine, Jerry decided to kiss me. And hey, it wasn’t bad. Certainly a better kiss than date-guy #1 and date-guy #2 was a total flop so, what the hell, right? A girl could use a little kissy-face sometimes.
But suddenly I felt like the “mouse” in Of Mice and Men. In the seconds that followed our first lip-lock, somehow I became his main squeeze…literally. He sidled up next to me in the booth and wrapped his arm around me so tight I felt as if I was in a straight jacket. And he wasn’t just holding my hand, or caressing it, or even massaging it, but CRUSHING IT. I had to play a little offensive guard to say the least.
Fortunately, or rather unfortunately (but it gave me a reason to leave), I received a phone call that my daughter wasn’t feeling well, so I politely excused myself for the evening. Jerry was generous enough to pick up the tab for our drinks… but, did I mention he whipped out a calculator to figure the tip? Oy vey…
Tonight: Dinner with "The Teacher."
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