I am cast in the play. Whoo hoo! We'll be having a really light rehearsal schedule for the first few weeks, so it won't occupy ALL my time, but will definitely give me a focus and an outlet. I am most pleased. (Thank you, Julie, for not keeping me in suspense.)
In other news, I actually talked to Male Me a couple of times yesterday. I decided that, since I couldn't email him (due to his profile being removed) in response to his "I hope you're not offended..." email, I would just leave him a quick little voicemail assuring him that I was in no way offended, that I wished him and his family well, and he should feel free to get back in touch whenever he felt like he could.
Which was, apparently, about four hours after I left the message. He just had to call, he said, "because your message was so sweet and sincere...and somehow also funny--how do you do that?" Well, Male Me, that's sort of me in a nutshell. Heh. We talked for a while, and then again for a while after callbacks...talking to me lightened his mood, he said. Awww....
Of course, we still haven't MET, so I don't know if he'll pass the "physical chemistry" test (or if I will, for him), to say nothing of the "stubby fingers test" (hee), so...verdict still out, but he at least seems somewhat...captivated. Which does feel good, I must tell you, for someone who was rejected out-of-hand by the entire speed-dating community. (Okay, I know it was only those particular seven guys, but who doesn't love some good hyperbole? I know I love it more than anything else in the whole world!)
And in other news...well, there is no other news, really, except we all got free turkeys at work today. What does a vegetarian do with a free turkey, you ask? She gives it to her parents, as usual, and wonders why that vendor can't give out free broccoli-rice casserole or something. Hee.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Monday, November 24, 2008
So, what's been going on the last few days, you're asking? Dealing with any more rejection?
Well, no. Not YET, at any rate.
Since I last posted, I:
Well, no. Not YET, at any rate.
Since I last posted, I:
- Had dinner with one of my college roommates. Great fun! We rarely see each other, as he lives on the west coast, but when we do...it's like not a day has passed. I miss my college friends.
- Received my official "you have no matches, BUT we're happy to inform you that your next speed-dating event is on us" email from the speed-dating people. I have been strictly forbidden (by the BFF) to take them up on this offer. Oh, silly BFF...doesn't he know that forbidding someone to do something is pretty much ensuring that there is nothing more in the world they will want to do than that which has been forbidden? Heh.
- Auditioned for a play. Callbacks are tonight. Cross your fingers for me. I NEED some sort of outlet right now, as the holidays, lonely and sans New Guy (or, you know, an even newer new guy), loom. Plus, it looks like a very fun play. And I haven't worked with this particular director in a while. (She reads my blog sometimes, so...hi, Julie! Cast me!)
- Organized an outing for a few of us after auditions, to my favorite Vietnamese vegetarian restaurant. I talked everyone into ordering from the back page of the menu (far, far from the "sweet-and-sour" section) and everyone agreed that the "crack noodles" are indeed the best thing ever. I have hope for the future of our nation. (Hee!)
- Sent a very brief "hope you're well" email to the Male Me. He replied with a very nice "I haven't forgotten about you, but I'm completely distracted/occupied with work and family, and I plan to call you again...someday" email...then promptly took his profile down. Hmm. Not too promising in the short term, for sure.
- Attended a readers' club meeting. My pile of borrowed books is now looming large, and I hope the allure of unread treasures will help me break my still-ongoing MSNBC addiction. Not that I intend to completely break up with Keith and Rachel, but...books are good, too.
- Discovered a drawback to turning a previously feral cat who hunted her own food into an office cat with kitty-door access to our warehouse: guess who has to has to clean up her culinary "treasures" regularly? This morning I had to scoop up an entire, gnawed-on...carcass of some sort (chicken? rabbit?) that looked like it had, at some point, been buried in the mud. Ick. (It was also very large. I don't know how the hell she got it through that tiny cat door with only her mouth.) There have also been several unfortunate members of the rodent and bird families. I know all about the "circle of life"--I just don't like seeing it played out so close to home.
- Started watching as many cheesy holiday-themed movies as possible. In case there's another ice storm this year, and my cable goes out again, I don't want my minimum requirement of festive pap to go unfulfilled yet again. Last night I watched the first half of "Snow Globe"--wherein a young woman goes magically into the world of a Christmas snow globe each evening. I want to go to Snow Globe Land--it's so festive and colorful! Sadly, I fell asleep and missed the ending, but I'm pretty sure it all worked out, and she pleased both herself and her overbearing family by falling in love with the new guy next door, leaving the cheerful inhabitants of the snow globe to celebrate Christmas all year long, complete with roast goose and yams from their adorable magic oven.
That's about it. I'm looking forward to the upcoming long weekend, aren't you?
Thursday, November 20, 2008
The ultimate humiliation
I received NO speed-dating matches. Now, it's not like I felt any particular spark with any of them, but still...not ONE of those losers wanted to get to know me? How nice for my ego.
My friend, on the other hand, was contacted by all but one of them... the one holdout, of course, being the one she really wanted. The true irony here is that I only went because she didn't want to go alone, and I was being a good friend. See where that gets me? Rejected by losers.
I'm also remembering what it was like to go out dancing with this particular friend, "back in the day." Now, mind you, this is far enough "back" that I, too, was pretty smokin' hot, but still...she ALWAYS got asked to dance, first and most often. One night, she and I and another friend went out, and agreed that the one asked to dance first would be bought a shot by the other two, with the caveat that the two "losers" would get to pick the shot. She was asked right away, of course, and demanded her winning shot. So, with her out of earshot, we went to the bar and asked the bartender, what's the nastiest shot you can think of? "A Prairie Fire," came the answer. And what's in that? "Equal parts tequila and tabasco." Perfect! She slammed it down, got a hilarious (to us) look on her face, and just managed to croak out, "What WAS that?"
Of course, being uber-popular at a bar isn't always without its own punishment. She was purchased shots and drinks by so many guys attempting to impress her that she finished the evening puking in the backseat of her own car. Heh.
Another time, she was determined to show us that she, too, knew the sting of rejection. "I'm going to go ask some guy to dance that I KNOW will turn me down." She surveyed the scene, picked a guy who was literally knee-deep in girls clamoring for his attention, marched over, and asked him to dance. He said no, thanks. She came back, gloating a bit. "See? I get turned down sometimes." Fast forward five or ten minutes. Here comes the guy. "I feel so bad for saying no...would you like to dance?" Hee!
So, I guess what I'm saying is...I should have known not to go speed-dating with this friend! And, if I want to massage my own bruised ego a bit, I can tell myself that all the guys knew we were there together, and just didn't want to pick both of us, for fear that it might cause problems down the road. Yeah, that's it...if she hadn't been there, I'd have been the most popular girl in the room! (And yes, I know...denial is not a river in Egypt. Heh.)
Now, let me just say, it's hardly her fault that she's gorgeous AND outgoing and funny. And, truthfully, being the most popular girl at the ball doesn't always work out so well, long term. She's had a couple of really bad marriages, and is currently walking the challenging road of single motherhood with a precocious young daughter. I'm proud of the job she's doing, and I don't begrudge her the attention.
But couldn't ONE of those guys have picked me, too? Wah!
My friend, on the other hand, was contacted by all but one of them... the one holdout, of course, being the one she really wanted. The true irony here is that I only went because she didn't want to go alone, and I was being a good friend. See where that gets me? Rejected by losers.
I'm also remembering what it was like to go out dancing with this particular friend, "back in the day." Now, mind you, this is far enough "back" that I, too, was pretty smokin' hot, but still...she ALWAYS got asked to dance, first and most often. One night, she and I and another friend went out, and agreed that the one asked to dance first would be bought a shot by the other two, with the caveat that the two "losers" would get to pick the shot. She was asked right away, of course, and demanded her winning shot. So, with her out of earshot, we went to the bar and asked the bartender, what's the nastiest shot you can think of? "A Prairie Fire," came the answer. And what's in that? "Equal parts tequila and tabasco." Perfect! She slammed it down, got a hilarious (to us) look on her face, and just managed to croak out, "What WAS that?"
Of course, being uber-popular at a bar isn't always without its own punishment. She was purchased shots and drinks by so many guys attempting to impress her that she finished the evening puking in the backseat of her own car. Heh.
Another time, she was determined to show us that she, too, knew the sting of rejection. "I'm going to go ask some guy to dance that I KNOW will turn me down." She surveyed the scene, picked a guy who was literally knee-deep in girls clamoring for his attention, marched over, and asked him to dance. He said no, thanks. She came back, gloating a bit. "See? I get turned down sometimes." Fast forward five or ten minutes. Here comes the guy. "I feel so bad for saying no...would you like to dance?" Hee!
So, I guess what I'm saying is...I should have known not to go speed-dating with this friend! And, if I want to massage my own bruised ego a bit, I can tell myself that all the guys knew we were there together, and just didn't want to pick both of us, for fear that it might cause problems down the road. Yeah, that's it...if she hadn't been there, I'd have been the most popular girl in the room! (And yes, I know...denial is not a river in Egypt. Heh.)
Now, let me just say, it's hardly her fault that she's gorgeous AND outgoing and funny. And, truthfully, being the most popular girl at the ball doesn't always work out so well, long term. She's had a couple of really bad marriages, and is currently walking the challenging road of single motherhood with a precocious young daughter. I'm proud of the job she's doing, and I don't begrudge her the attention.
But couldn't ONE of those guys have picked me, too? Wah!
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Quick update
For some reason I am irritable as all hell this afternoon. Maybe because I have been besieged with idiots today. Sigh.
To catch you up with my ever-so-exciting dating life:
To catch you up with my ever-so-exciting dating life:
- I have not yet come face-to-face with myself. Bachelor #1 had to go out-of-town over the weekend, and I didn't hear from him last night. I called him on my lunch hour, and it seems he came back from his trip to find that his elderly mother, who has Alzheimer's and a recently broken leg, is not doing at all well, and he needs to focus on that for a bit. Understandable. He insists that he still wants to meet, as soon as is feasible, but Mom comes first. As she should. So I don't know yet whether I like "myself." Heh.
- My friend and I went speed-dating last night. It was okay. Nothing spectacular. A couple of guys seemed maybe a little interesting, but I have no idea whether any of them had any interest in me, since the brand-spanking-new speed-dating coordinator hasn't yet completed her part of the equation, thus enabling us to all go online and indicate our match preferences. There were only 15 or so of us there, so I don't know what's taking her so long. (Add her to the list of idiots making me irritable today.) I'm not really emotionally invested in the outcome, to be sure...I just don't like people not doing their jobs quickly and efficiently. And my friend is going CRAZY asking me if I've heard anything yet. She must have liked someone more than she let on. Hee.
- I talked to New Guy for a quite a while after I got home last night. He's still dealing with the fall-out from his burglary. The insurance company wants a detailed list of serial numbers for the stolen items. Which information he kept carefully documented on his computer...which was stolen. Don't know how that will all sort out. He did discover how the thief got in, though...they came up and over his second-floor balcony and forced open the door to his bedroom. Nice.
- I'm a little discouraged that I got more enjoyment from listening to him talk about his insurance hassles than I did from my conversations with any of the seven guys at speed-dating. Sigh. Save me, Bachelor #1, save me! Please turn out to be wonderful in every way. (You know...like me. Heh.)
Thursday, November 13, 2008
And he is me.
I spoke to Bachelor #1 on the phone last night, and...I think he's the male version of me. By which I mean he has all the same grammar peeves (including imply/infer), is partial to ellipses in casual writing, has the same fairly wide-ranging cultural knowledge (a Trivial Pursuit gauntlet has already been thrown down), knows he's smart, and is thrilled to meet someone who "gets" his references (including one to Lupe Velez, which I, of course, got instantly).
We'll probably meet in person sooner rather than later, but...I can't help but wonder (speaking of cultural references, here's a twofer)...what if it's like that Seinfeld episode where Jerry met his "female me," played by Janeane Garafalo, and while it was great for a while, he eventually realized..."I don't like myself."
Seriously, if we ended up together, would we turn out to be the most insufferable couple on the planet? Would some weird synergy have everyone around us saying "Oh, THOSE two, they think they know everything." To which we'd respond...what are you IMPLYING? Are we to INFER that you think there's something wrong with that? Hee.
We'll probably meet in person sooner rather than later, but...I can't help but wonder (speaking of cultural references, here's a twofer)...what if it's like that Seinfeld episode where Jerry met his "female me," played by Janeane Garafalo, and while it was great for a while, he eventually realized..."I don't like myself."
Seriously, if we ended up together, would we turn out to be the most insufferable couple on the planet? Would some weird synergy have everyone around us saying "Oh, THOSE two, they think they know everything." To which we'd respond...what are you IMPLYING? Are we to INFER that you think there's something wrong with that? Hee.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
I don't get how this works.
This online dating thing. Why do I go days and weeks without even a profile view, then get contacted by four guys all in the space of a single hour? I think maybe flentyofpish rotates the profiles around, and eventually you come back to the top, or something. That's all I can think of to explain my inbox yesterday.
So, yes...there might be some interesting new stories in the days to come. Or not. But I'm sure you're all tired of election-related blog posts, so I will spare you there. Though there is plenty I could say about Sa...no, never mind.
My inbox.
The first message came from a man who is actually articulate and funny! I know! He used the word "erudite" correctly! In a flentyofpish email! Am I done with the exclamation marks? Yes...I think so. But it was exciting. Heh. He seemed very impressed with MY profile, which only goes to further prove how intelligent he is, right?
Here's a snippet from his first email:
So nice to see an erudite profile with nary a "Me and him" to be found. If I see one more confusion over there/their/they're I may just lose all hope and curl up in a ball.
May I add, that your pic is pretty easy on the old peepers, as well.*
*Apparently I have morphed into some 1940's gumshoe tonight.
Seems promising, no? We have exchanged a couple more messages, and he doesn't get any less literate with time. Heh.
Then I received another, from a 62-year-old widower. At first it made me laugh out loud (though not in a good way), then it just made me want to cry. It did contain this little gem, though, which I think BFF and I will be using for some time to come:
"your profile stuck out at me like a thumb"
Bwaaaa! I think I snorted as I read it out loud to BFF. Then, sadly, the message became about his desire to not die all alone, completely friendless, and I just got sad. Not sad enough to go out with him, mind you, but sad nonetheless. There's just something very poignant about someone all alone, who never planned to be alone, but who is now trolling dating sites, trying to find someone interested in his offer to warm them up a quick bite at his apartment, then maybe search the internet or watch TV with him. Okay, as I type it out, it sounds as much creepy as poignant, but it really came across as sad to me. Maybe I'm just premenstrual.
Then came another message from a guy who I would probably find interesting if I wasn't already enamored with the literary stylings of Guy #1, so I think I'll put him on the back burner for a bit. He did make an appropriate "Deliverance" reference, so he gets bonus points for that.
And, last but not least, there was a simple winky emoticon from Guy #4, who, of course, is the one who I would find most attractive if I was going simply on looks. Which I'm not. Yet. I mean, EVER. Heh.
And, because it's always feast or famine around here, next week I'm going speed-dating with a friend. Only because she really wanted to go, but refused to do it alone. So, like a good wingwoman, I agreed to go, too. I've done it before a couple of times, and I found it equal parts painless and fruitless, but...what the heck. I agreed to do it, and I will.
That's about all the news from LizLand. Cross your fingers that maybe one of these guys will at least buy me a friggin' cup of coffee.
So, yes...there might be some interesting new stories in the days to come. Or not. But I'm sure you're all tired of election-related blog posts, so I will spare you there. Though there is plenty I could say about Sa...no, never mind.
My inbox.
The first message came from a man who is actually articulate and funny! I know! He used the word "erudite" correctly! In a flentyofpish email! Am I done with the exclamation marks? Yes...I think so. But it was exciting. Heh. He seemed very impressed with MY profile, which only goes to further prove how intelligent he is, right?
Here's a snippet from his first email:
So nice to see an erudite profile with nary a "Me and him" to be found. If I see one more confusion over there/their/they're I may just lose all hope and curl up in a ball.
May I add, that your pic is pretty easy on the old peepers, as well.*
*Apparently I have morphed into some 1940's gumshoe tonight.
Seems promising, no? We have exchanged a couple more messages, and he doesn't get any less literate with time. Heh.
Then I received another, from a 62-year-old widower. At first it made me laugh out loud (though not in a good way), then it just made me want to cry. It did contain this little gem, though, which I think BFF and I will be using for some time to come:
"your profile stuck out at me like a thumb"
Bwaaaa! I think I snorted as I read it out loud to BFF. Then, sadly, the message became about his desire to not die all alone, completely friendless, and I just got sad. Not sad enough to go out with him, mind you, but sad nonetheless. There's just something very poignant about someone all alone, who never planned to be alone, but who is now trolling dating sites, trying to find someone interested in his offer to warm them up a quick bite at his apartment, then maybe search the internet or watch TV with him. Okay, as I type it out, it sounds as much creepy as poignant, but it really came across as sad to me. Maybe I'm just premenstrual.
Then came another message from a guy who I would probably find interesting if I wasn't already enamored with the literary stylings of Guy #1, so I think I'll put him on the back burner for a bit. He did make an appropriate "Deliverance" reference, so he gets bonus points for that.
And, last but not least, there was a simple winky emoticon from Guy #4, who, of course, is the one who I would find most attractive if I was going simply on looks. Which I'm not. Yet. I mean, EVER. Heh.
And, because it's always feast or famine around here, next week I'm going speed-dating with a friend. Only because she really wanted to go, but refused to do it alone. So, like a good wingwoman, I agreed to go, too. I've done it before a couple of times, and I found it equal parts painless and fruitless, but...what the heck. I agreed to do it, and I will.
That's about all the news from LizLand. Cross your fingers that maybe one of these guys will at least buy me a friggin' cup of coffee.
Thursday, November 06, 2008
I'm glad it's over, but...
...what do I do with my time now, if I'm not checking pollster.com every hour? Heh.
Okay, a few impressions from Election Eve.
I met up with Obama Guy at one of the bigger watch parties downtown. Yes, despite the fact that I live in the Reddest State in the Country (and if you think I'm not depressed by that, well...you must be new here), there are a few of us here who are...in our left minds. Heh. (I refer to us now as the 33%ers.) It was nothing like being in Grant Park or Times Square, mind you, but there were at least 200-300 people there, and they were ready to party.
It got really exciting when the first East Coast returns started to come in, and then less so as the red states took the lead for a while, and then...well, was there not just the LONGEST span of time where NOTHING happened? At one point I remarked to Obama Guy that I needed SOME state to be called, somewhere, anywhere, or I was going to explode. Fortunately we had beer and pizza (thanks, generous guy named Mark who had the pizza delivered for us) to distract us a bit. Then it seemed like it just happened out of nowhere, really, didn't it? No itemized list of the states that had been called, just suddenly..."Barack Obama Projected Winner." And then pandemonium, of course. Hugging and crying and screaming.
We did a little dancing to "Signed, Sealed, Delivered" and I believe there was a conga line formed at one point. There was a lifetime cut-out of Barack onstage, and I was really hoping that someone might send him out crowd-surfing, but I was disappointed. Heh.
It didn't really feel completely real to me, until I saw John McCain pop up on the screen to give his concession speech, which I found very eloquent and gracious, and reminiscent of McCain v.2000. I will be honest and admit that the room did break into some light booing once--when he mentioned his running mate. Someone parroted Barack's diplomatic response to booing at his rallies: "Barack would say don't boo, just vote." To which, I confess, I responded "We already voted. We get to boo a little bit now!" (Sorry, I just CAN'T STAND that woman. And apparently I am not alone.) I might feel bad about this, except for the slight audible booing (more than once) from McCain's own crowd during his speech. Moving on.
It was time for the man himself to speak.
The most moving thing for me was watching the faces of the middle-aged and older African-Americans near me, as they cried along with Oprah and Jesse Jackson. Plenty of us paler folks were teary, too, of course...but knowing that some of these people lived through segregation in a truly personal way and were now seeing something most of them never thought would happen in their lifetimes...wow.
And, may I just say...Joe the Who now? Let's hear it for 106-year-old Ann Nixon Cooper! (I read an interview with her today, and, may I just point out that Barack's campaign called to let her know that he would be mentioning her prominently in his speech, and didn't just spring it on her like a certain someone did to a certain "plumber.")
I think my personal favorite moment was when a black woman nearby shared that her teen-aged son (hovering behind her all "oh man, don't embarrass me, Mom") had just told her that he couldn't wait to tell his own kids about it someday, and Mom gave the kid a look and said "now, let's not be in any hurry to start on those kids, okay?" Hee!
All in all, it was a beautiful night. A good night to be both a Democrat and a democrat.
So, I feel you wondering, did the beauty and emotion of the evening sweep over me and Obama Guy and carry us off in a blaze of passion? Well, no. We had a good time, I like him, there was a hug and a kiss on the cheek before we parted ways, but I'm not sure either of us is feeling particularly romantic at this point. I think we should try going out on a real, non-election-related date and see if we have anything left to talk about.
Okay, a few impressions from Election Eve.
I met up with Obama Guy at one of the bigger watch parties downtown. Yes, despite the fact that I live in the Reddest State in the Country (and if you think I'm not depressed by that, well...you must be new here), there are a few of us here who are...in our left minds. Heh. (I refer to us now as the 33%ers.) It was nothing like being in Grant Park or Times Square, mind you, but there were at least 200-300 people there, and they were ready to party.
It got really exciting when the first East Coast returns started to come in, and then less so as the red states took the lead for a while, and then...well, was there not just the LONGEST span of time where NOTHING happened? At one point I remarked to Obama Guy that I needed SOME state to be called, somewhere, anywhere, or I was going to explode. Fortunately we had beer and pizza (thanks, generous guy named Mark who had the pizza delivered for us) to distract us a bit. Then it seemed like it just happened out of nowhere, really, didn't it? No itemized list of the states that had been called, just suddenly..."Barack Obama Projected Winner." And then pandemonium, of course. Hugging and crying and screaming.
We did a little dancing to "Signed, Sealed, Delivered" and I believe there was a conga line formed at one point. There was a lifetime cut-out of Barack onstage, and I was really hoping that someone might send him out crowd-surfing, but I was disappointed. Heh.
It didn't really feel completely real to me, until I saw John McCain pop up on the screen to give his concession speech, which I found very eloquent and gracious, and reminiscent of McCain v.2000. I will be honest and admit that the room did break into some light booing once--when he mentioned his running mate. Someone parroted Barack's diplomatic response to booing at his rallies: "Barack would say don't boo, just vote." To which, I confess, I responded "We already voted. We get to boo a little bit now!" (Sorry, I just CAN'T STAND that woman. And apparently I am not alone.) I might feel bad about this, except for the slight audible booing (more than once) from McCain's own crowd during his speech. Moving on.
It was time for the man himself to speak.
The most moving thing for me was watching the faces of the middle-aged and older African-Americans near me, as they cried along with Oprah and Jesse Jackson. Plenty of us paler folks were teary, too, of course...but knowing that some of these people lived through segregation in a truly personal way and were now seeing something most of them never thought would happen in their lifetimes...wow.
And, may I just say...Joe the Who now? Let's hear it for 106-year-old Ann Nixon Cooper! (I read an interview with her today, and, may I just point out that Barack's campaign called to let her know that he would be mentioning her prominently in his speech, and didn't just spring it on her like a certain someone did to a certain "plumber.")
I think my personal favorite moment was when a black woman nearby shared that her teen-aged son (hovering behind her all "oh man, don't embarrass me, Mom") had just told her that he couldn't wait to tell his own kids about it someday, and Mom gave the kid a look and said "now, let's not be in any hurry to start on those kids, okay?" Hee!
All in all, it was a beautiful night. A good night to be both a Democrat and a democrat.
So, I feel you wondering, did the beauty and emotion of the evening sweep over me and Obama Guy and carry us off in a blaze of passion? Well, no. We had a good time, I like him, there was a hug and a kiss on the cheek before we parted ways, but I'm not sure either of us is feeling particularly romantic at this point. I think we should try going out on a real, non-election-related date and see if we have anything left to talk about.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
WHOO HOO!
I would like to summarize my feelings on yesterday's landslide victory, the moving and emotional watch party I attended, my hope for the future, but...all I can come up with right now is....SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!I'll try to be more articulate later.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
I Voted
I decided to go before work this morning. It took about 25 minutes. That is approximately 24.75 minutes longer than it's ever taken before at this particular polling place. Go, democracy! Of course, seeing as how I'm in Oklahoma, reddest of the red states, none of my votes probably "mattered." But you know what? They "mattered" to me. I got a little thrill, connecting that broken line next to Obama/Biden. We're making history, one way or the other. Now I just have to hope it's the history I want. Heh.
Do you want to hear a sad story? I called New Guy last night to wish him happy birthday and see if he got his birthday present, and he was sitting in a daze in his apartment, waiting for the police to come. No sign of forced entry, but somehow someone got in and took ALL his electronic devices, including his computer and his son's xbox and playstation. Plus a power tool or two. ON HIS BIRTHDAY! I suspect his apartment management. Or the UPS man who delivered his birthday present, or both. Really, wouldn't that be a hideously ingenious plan? A crooked UPS man hooks up with a crooked apartment manager and wipes out the tenants? They'd have built-in alibis for why they were hanging around the apartment, and a tailor-made getaway truck. Who'd even give a second glance to a UPS man carrying boxes? I'm very sad for New Guy. Fortunately, he's insured, but it still sucks. And if the UPS guy was involved, then I feel really, really bad, since the UPS guy was there delivering MY gift to him. Some days you can't catch a break.
I think I'll be attending a watch party tonight. I would say "with" Obama Guy, but since we'll probably just meet there, I don't think it counts as a date.
I've pretty much cleared the man queue again, otherwise. I've decided, too, that I need to clear up something in my online profile, assuming any of these last few guys even took the time to READ it. "Politically progressive" does not mean "I encourage redneck ultra-conservatives to contact me." Maybe I need to change my online name to "Lizzy Liberal" or something.
Do you want to hear a sad story? I called New Guy last night to wish him happy birthday and see if he got his birthday present, and he was sitting in a daze in his apartment, waiting for the police to come. No sign of forced entry, but somehow someone got in and took ALL his electronic devices, including his computer and his son's xbox and playstation. Plus a power tool or two. ON HIS BIRTHDAY! I suspect his apartment management. Or the UPS man who delivered his birthday present, or both. Really, wouldn't that be a hideously ingenious plan? A crooked UPS man hooks up with a crooked apartment manager and wipes out the tenants? They'd have built-in alibis for why they were hanging around the apartment, and a tailor-made getaway truck. Who'd even give a second glance to a UPS man carrying boxes? I'm very sad for New Guy. Fortunately, he's insured, but it still sucks. And if the UPS guy was involved, then I feel really, really bad, since the UPS guy was there delivering MY gift to him. Some days you can't catch a break.
I think I'll be attending a watch party tonight. I would say "with" Obama Guy, but since we'll probably just meet there, I don't think it counts as a date.
I've pretty much cleared the man queue again, otherwise. I've decided, too, that I need to clear up something in my online profile, assuming any of these last few guys even took the time to READ it. "Politically progressive" does not mean "I encourage redneck ultra-conservatives to contact me." Maybe I need to change my online name to "Lizzy Liberal" or something.
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