I have a crush on Ferris Bueller. Seriously, his confidence is HOT. And that little smile? Makes me come down with a case of the vapahs
I've been trying this online dating thing-I went exploring somewhat begrudgingly. I've always wanted to meet someone face to face, feel a spark and have that spark turn all fire-y and wonderful. So far, not so much. So I tried this site. It has a corny name and although I didn't go in very optimistically, I'd be lying if the near constant 'ping' of chat requests didn't make me all giggly.
My hopes were immediately proven to be too high.
What I've learned so far is this: Old men with really bad mustaches, computer zombied 'tech' guys with moobs, and horny frat boys are pretty much what makes up an online dating site.
Occasionally you might come across a profile that says his perfect first date is coffee and a nice chat. Clearly coffee means casual sex and a nice chat means 'I don't want to know you'.
And why the hell not? According to more than a few I have the following traits:
I'm cute.
I'm nice.
I'm funny.
I sound like a cousin.
I wanna be sexy. Bad. Dirty.
It's just not gonna happen I don't think. Well now, wait a tick. I know I can be those things and there are a select few that would agree so I have proof.
God what was I talking about?
I told my coworker that I was thisclose to finding a lesbian to settle down with. Well, I would if I was into lady parts. And if women weren't completely batshit crazy.
Oh yeah we are. COMPLETELY BATSHIT
And men are stupid. This has been said countless times I know, but I always thought people just said it to be well, to be jerks. But dammit, it is true. They think with their nether region and rarely allow rational thought to lead the way. They make stupid decisions, usually because their junk told them to and then they act like it's our fault somehow.
God but they're neat aren't they? They smell good-well, most of the time. If they don't you certainly won't miss it because another thing about men? They like poop. And they like to talk about it. It's a weird kind of fascination I don't understand. But then they probably don't get why that pair of shoes or that purse or that (in my case) book is so freaking important to own.
I suppose it's good we don't really need communication to have sex or the world would never be populated. Imagine how easy things would be if we could just grunt, point and drag each other by the hair every once in awhile?
Or you know, you could just have a crush on a movie character.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Anniversary
One of the greatest romances I've ever known was the one that created me.
My mom and dad met when she was a waitress and he was the cook at a diner downtown in the early 70s. I like to imagine that they flirted with each other over the line like a cheesy romantic comedy.
I've heard stories of how they would close the diner down, talking and laughing into the night. I've seen pictures of the two of them during that time. My favorite is one that was taken at Halloween. They were dressed in bunny suits and in the photo they are staring into each other's faces, beaming love.
I remember overhearing my dad and an aunt talking at mom's service. My aunt was telling him she'd always been so in awe of the love they'd had and that someday...she hoped I'd find the same.
I remember thinking I wouldn't find anything else.
Truth is, what my parents had was rare. It was a love that was so pure, obvious and true....and something they surrounded me in. Most importantly, it was theirs. Someday I'll find what I'm supposed to have and it will be pure. Obvious. And true.
My mom and dad met when she was a waitress and he was the cook at a diner downtown in the early 70s. I like to imagine that they flirted with each other over the line like a cheesy romantic comedy.
I've heard stories of how they would close the diner down, talking and laughing into the night. I've seen pictures of the two of them during that time. My favorite is one that was taken at Halloween. They were dressed in bunny suits and in the photo they are staring into each other's faces, beaming love.
I remember overhearing my dad and an aunt talking at mom's service. My aunt was telling him she'd always been so in awe of the love they'd had and that someday...she hoped I'd find the same.
I remember thinking I wouldn't find anything else.
Truth is, what my parents had was rare. It was a love that was so pure, obvious and true....and something they surrounded me in. Most importantly, it was theirs. Someday I'll find what I'm supposed to have and it will be pure. Obvious. And true.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Remnants
You never expect the call to come but it always seems to come in the middle of the night. That call of dread that no one wants telling you someone is hurt, in trouble or dead.
I used to get calls like that on what seemed like a daily basis for about 3 years. Every time the phone rang I'd jump. This was before caller ID and the ability to 'accept' or 'reject' a call. I don't know that either of those choices are still the right one.
It's been almost 5 years and still I keep my phone by my bed. When it wakes me a shiver of fear runs through before I remember she's already gone.
It's different now. The phone could ring about Dad or any of the uncles or cousins or aunts or friends...It scares me to think about losing someone. Terrifies me actually. The people in my life are there for a reason and I'd be devastated to lose any of them.
It's not that I don't understand that death happens. I think I probably have a pretty good relationship with morality-watching a loved one die will do that to you. And I'm not angry at God-I don't even know him-or pissed at the Universe for not doing what I wanted.
I guess it's just that the sadness is so....thick. Overwhelming and consuming and it changes you every time. The loss is something you never get over, there is always a part of you that's just...gone. It becomes easier to understand or deal with as time passes, but it doesn't go away.
I woke up this morning with the remnants of a dream in which I'd lost all those I hold dear to me. Made my Cheerios a little less cheery you know?
At least the phone didn't wake me.
I used to get calls like that on what seemed like a daily basis for about 3 years. Every time the phone rang I'd jump. This was before caller ID and the ability to 'accept' or 'reject' a call. I don't know that either of those choices are still the right one.
It's been almost 5 years and still I keep my phone by my bed. When it wakes me a shiver of fear runs through before I remember she's already gone.
It's different now. The phone could ring about Dad or any of the uncles or cousins or aunts or friends...It scares me to think about losing someone. Terrifies me actually. The people in my life are there for a reason and I'd be devastated to lose any of them.
It's not that I don't understand that death happens. I think I probably have a pretty good relationship with morality-watching a loved one die will do that to you. And I'm not angry at God-I don't even know him-or pissed at the Universe for not doing what I wanted.
I guess it's just that the sadness is so....thick. Overwhelming and consuming and it changes you every time. The loss is something you never get over, there is always a part of you that's just...gone. It becomes easier to understand or deal with as time passes, but it doesn't go away.
I woke up this morning with the remnants of a dream in which I'd lost all those I hold dear to me. Made my Cheerios a little less cheery you know?
At least the phone didn't wake me.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Kiss the Girl
I was watching tv earlier tonight and it wasn't even some mushy romance thing and I found myself wondering when was the last time I was kissed.
It's been a long time.
I've kissed a guy or two in the last year but they were silly 'I've had too many beers and this is all we're going to do' kisses.
I can't remember the last time a man held my face in his hands or leaned in to kiss my mouth because he couldn't wait to taste it.
That's such a fantastic feeling-the anticipation of a kiss. That sweet moment when lips meet and breath mingles. When the kiss deepens and everything suddenly becomes so much more. When your eyes close and you drink in the whole experience, drown in it just a little. Then finally, when you gently pull apart and there is delicious electricity and...
hope of another kiss.
It's been a long time.
I've kissed a guy or two in the last year but they were silly 'I've had too many beers and this is all we're going to do' kisses.
I can't remember the last time a man held my face in his hands or leaned in to kiss my mouth because he couldn't wait to taste it.
That's such a fantastic feeling-the anticipation of a kiss. That sweet moment when lips meet and breath mingles. When the kiss deepens and everything suddenly becomes so much more. When your eyes close and you drink in the whole experience, drown in it just a little. Then finally, when you gently pull apart and there is delicious electricity and...
hope of another kiss.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
High Expectations
He will communicate with me.
He won't be afraid to say how he feels about something and will listen as much as he hears.
He won't say what he thinks I want to hear.
He'll tell me if I'm being ridiculous.
He will compromise, share, and be my partner.
He will have friends.
He will respect my 'me time'.
He will know what I want for my birthday/Christmas/random special occasion.
He will help create random special occasions.
I have cats and I love them and he will understand this.
He'll surprise me with flowers, trips to the ocean, dinner, a kiss...
He will understand and appreciate my love of puns.
He will be kind and thoughtful and trustworthy.
He will understand my relationship with coffee.
He will know when to tell me the truth about the pants making me look fat and when to lie.*
*This one is tricky, but it can be done.
He will be nice to waitresses, small children and animals.
He will share silence comfortably with me.
He will meet my dad and not be a complete tool.
He will be understanding about what should be Mom's birthday or the day she died, or maybe just a random whatever thought that makes me think of her.
He will understand sometimes I have to get through it on my own.
He should probably like South Park.
He will respect me, not put me on a pedestal.
He will have a decent knowledge of all things technology related and/or have excellent patience, because I'm going to ask for help.
He will wear his belt at his waist and nowhere near his kneecaps, i.e. the sagging pant.
He will make me laugh.
He will listen to me rant about a bad day and not try to fix it.
He will hold me when I cry.
He will accept me for who I am and love me.
Just as I do him.
He won't be afraid to say how he feels about something and will listen as much as he hears.
He won't say what he thinks I want to hear.
He'll tell me if I'm being ridiculous.
He will compromise, share, and be my partner.
He will have friends.
He will respect my 'me time'.
He will know what I want for my birthday/Christmas/random special occasion.
He will help create random special occasions.
I have cats and I love them and he will understand this.
He'll surprise me with flowers, trips to the ocean, dinner, a kiss...
He will understand and appreciate my love of puns.
He will be kind and thoughtful and trustworthy.
He will understand my relationship with coffee.
He will know when to tell me the truth about the pants making me look fat and when to lie.*
*This one is tricky, but it can be done.
He will be nice to waitresses, small children and animals.
He will share silence comfortably with me.
He will meet my dad and not be a complete tool.
He will be understanding about what should be Mom's birthday or the day she died, or maybe just a random whatever thought that makes me think of her.
He will understand sometimes I have to get through it on my own.
He should probably like South Park.
He will respect me, not put me on a pedestal.
He will have a decent knowledge of all things technology related and/or have excellent patience, because I'm going to ask for help.
He will wear his belt at his waist and nowhere near his kneecaps, i.e. the sagging pant.
He will make me laugh.
He will listen to me rant about a bad day and not try to fix it.
He will hold me when I cry.
He will accept me for who I am and love me.
Just as I do him.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Anywhere
Sometimes the world feels so small. I run into people I used to pour coffee for, people I went to high school with and people that taught me in elementary school.
I have been hugged, cursed at, cried with, laughed with, teased, ignored, loved and lived here my entire life.
I have lived other places only twice, and only for 3 months each time. Not long enough to establish a new existence.
I don't even know where I would go.
Sometimes it doesn't matter.
To Oregon. Near the ocean so that I could watch the storms come in winter, hear the peals of laughter from children in summer.
To the middle of the United States where I know no one and no one knows me. Where the entire way of life is different than here.
To San Francisco. I have family there-a safety net. I've been there before and it's beautiful-a lot like here actually.
To Alaska. Another beautiful place where I have family. I could adjust to the cold.
To England. To a foreign place where the language is mostly the same and the culture is nothing like here.
Sometimes all I want to do is run away and start over.
And then I remember how small the world is.
I have been hugged, cursed at, cried with, laughed with, teased, ignored, loved and lived here my entire life.
I have lived other places only twice, and only for 3 months each time. Not long enough to establish a new existence.
I don't even know where I would go.
Sometimes it doesn't matter.
To Oregon. Near the ocean so that I could watch the storms come in winter, hear the peals of laughter from children in summer.
To the middle of the United States where I know no one and no one knows me. Where the entire way of life is different than here.
To San Francisco. I have family there-a safety net. I've been there before and it's beautiful-a lot like here actually.
To Alaska. Another beautiful place where I have family. I could adjust to the cold.
To England. To a foreign place where the language is mostly the same and the culture is nothing like here.
Sometimes all I want to do is run away and start over.
And then I remember how small the world is.
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