I'm still here.

**Edited to add the most exciting thing of all--my tax refund arrived in my bank account yesterday. Yay, early e-file!**


I didn't intentionally let a week pass between posts. It's just been busy, I guess. And icy. Very icy.

So, what's been up with me since last week? Let's see...

I had a couple more dates with Mr. Short Term. Both in one day, actually. We met for lunch at my favorite restaurant last Saturday. (Me: "Please don't order the sweet-and-sour." Him: "Why would I? I don't like sweet-and-sour. Do they have Vietnamese noodle soups?" Me: "I knew I liked you.") He was enthusiastic about the food. Yay! Then we both had errands to run, but later I picked up some good beer and went over to his place to watch a movie. ("Waiting for Guffman." He was unfamiliar with the mockumentary stylings of Guest and Levy, but he enjoyed it.) He's got a sideline going selling aloe vera-based nutriceuticals, and he had me try a couple. Let's just say that pure aloe vera juice has a very stimulating effect on your digestive system, a fact of which he did not apprise me BEFORE I drank it, and leave it at that. (I don't want to send Flurrious running for the hills. Hee.) Nonetheless, we had quite a pleasant evening.

Here's the thing. I like him. He likes me. There's chemistry. We have a good time together. I think we'll stay friends, at least. But, thankfully, I don't think I'm at any risk of falling in love with him. That's a good thing, given his current lack of desire for a serious relationship. He can be my "Mr. Right Now" while I continue the search for "Mr. Right."

So, are there any more candidates for that position? Well, I am currently conversing via email with a couple more guys. One of whom is very smart and articulate and literate and thinks he can beat anyone at Trivial Pursuit. (Me: "Bring it on.") The downside? Well, he is fairly recently separated and not actually divorced yet, so...not pinning any great hopes there. (I would like to test his trivia knowledge, though!) The other guy...well, so far our exchanges have been a bit pedantic, and he lives a couple of hours away, so...not pinning anything there, either.

I think it's important that I keep chatting, though. It helps keep me from starting to think of Mr. Short Term as anything but that. And I did get a great email this morning. Why don't I just cut and paste it here for you?

"hi. i have tried on this site to be the friendly sort and a overall nice person and it seems it don't work. i cant even get any response at all. so here goes method v.2.0do you want to get together for a few laughs and orgasms? i am "normally" not THIS blunt but as i said all other attempts at anything else have met in failure, so i am going to start being the typical male and going straight for the sex. let me know if you want to give it a go."

I should say yes, right? After all, he says right in his profile: "I am told i am good at making a woman feel like she is the best and only one in the world." And, listed in his "6 things I can't live without" is, of course, "sex." In the number two position.

Sigh. Gah. I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.

So, what else have I been doing? Reading. I finished up "A People's History of the United States" Saturday afternoon. Finally. And I've decided I think we should reinstate literacy tests for voting. You want to vote? Read this book first. Heh.

Then I guess I had some sort of burning need to rip through a few less-heavy tomes, so on Sunday morning I read "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time." Monday evening, I read "The Glass Castle." Tuesday I read "My Lobotomy." I recommend them all.

Let's see..speed-dating was postponed again because of the weather. I have rehearsal on the next scheduled date, so it may be a while before I have any entertaining speed-dating stories. Sorry.

It's been icy here, as you might have heard. The trees and power lines were spared this time, but the roads were icy, so I stayed home Tuesday. The local news stations were showing car after car going over guardrails and flipping upside down, and I wanted no part of it. I knew there wouldn't be anything going on at work anyway, and didn't want to risk my life and/or car to sit at my desk, twiddling my thumbs and reading the interweb. (Not that I don't love you all, but...you know.)

Tuesday evening I dropped my cell phone in the toilet. Nice! (Thankfully, nobody had recently "dropped the kids off at the pool" or anything, but still.) I'm still attempting to dry it out, on the recommendation of the cell phone store, and bought a cheap "Go Phone" to use in the meantime. (And we're talking $14.87 cheap. Whoever thought a tiny, functioning cell phone would ever be that cheap, back when we were paying hundreds of dollars for a clunky bag phone to keep in the car? Heh.)

We have our first rehearsal of the week tonight, thanks to the snow, and life is getting back to normal. Or what passes for it around here.

And let's end with a PSA. If you think you're having a heart attack, CALL 911. Regardless of whether you fear that you won't be able to pay the bills afterward. A friend of my sister's died this week. She'd been feeling poorly for a couple of days, and then called my sister (who lives several miles away) one night panicking because she couldn't breathe, but she didn't want to call an ambulance. Even though she had insurance, she was afraid she wouldn't be able to pay her share on her limited income. My sister and her husband raced to her house, IN THE ICE, called 911 as soon as they got there, over her protests, followed her ambulance first to a small-town hospital, then to Tulsa, IN THE ICE, as they realized she needed more intensive care, and the weather was keeping the life flight helicopter grounded. It was too late to reverse the damage at that point, and she died early the next morning. Very sad. Man, the healthcare system in this country is messed-up, when people WITH insurance are still wary of calling for help because of the costs. My advice? MAKE THE CALL. Work out the financial details later, when you're STILL ALIVE.

Okay, I've got to go cheer myself up now. The literate, articulate guy and I are making Brady Bunch references, and it's my turn. Heh.

PSA

I don't think I actually have any regular male readers, much less any who are out there online dating, but just in case this makes it through the interweb tubes to an appropriate audience: I would like to issue a plea on behalf of all female online daters.

I've discussed before some of the things that I personally hate in an online profile--bad grammar, shirtless pictures, pictures of cars/motorcycles. (Picture of you with a cuddly puppy or kitty, however? Bigtime bonus points!) But there's one thing that squicks me out most of all, and I'm quite sure I'm not alone in this.

I'm squicked out by sex. Not having it, mind you, under the right circumstances... but hearing about it.

I don't want to see it in your summary, not even...no, PARTICULARLY if you try to dress it up as "love-making." Ewww. (And speaking of "ewww," I really, REALLY don't need to hear about your, as one guy put it, "well-hung package." Dude!)

I don't want to see it listed under "6 things I can't live without." Not once, and especially not TWICE. (Sex, my motorcycle, heavy metal, beer, oxygen [and oh, aren't you clever there], SEX.)

You're a GUY. We KNOW you want sex. It's a given. We're really looking to find out what ELSE you're into. Work with us here.

Thank you.

Summing it up.

Yesterday was pretty close to a perfect day.

I watched the ceremony at our local indie movie theatre. I ran into an old friend I hadn't seen in a couple of years, and sat next to her. I was so aglow from the proceedings that not even having the most annoying man in Tulsa on my other side could harsh my buzz. (I've crossed paths with this local "artist" enough times in the past that I feel quite comfortable giving him the title of Most Annoying Man in Tulsa.) I was so glad that the sun was out in D.C., for those given to seeing the weather as an omen. And it made Obama's flag pin (See--he does SO wear one, and did you notice he put his hand over his heart during the National Anthem? Take that, "Obama hates America" conspiracy theorists.) sparkle each time it caught the light. When the ceremony was over, we went to join some other friends for lunch at a new sports bar--good food (I even let myself have a little creme brulee) and plenty of TV screens to continue the watching. I ran home to let Pudge outside quickly and was back at work by 2:00, as promised. I defiantly left my vest unzipped for the rest of the afternoon, giving a peek at my "Obama 01.20.09" t-shirt underneath. (Such a rebel.)

I decided not to try to find an evening party, and instead ate a whopping order of nachos, then curled up on the couch to watch the continuing MSNBC coverage. I'm sure the Obamas were getting somewhat tired of dancing to the same song at each and every ball, but they seemed quite gracious about it, and it did give the commentators and those of us watching at home a bit of a giggle. "Okay...here comes the slow twirl...now he'll grab the mike again..."

It was a lovely and moving ceremony (miscues by Justice Roberts aside--and of course, there are already idiots saying that consequently Obama's not legally the president--gah), the new First Family is beautiful and vital, and now...well, as Barack would say, "let's get to work, America."

The universe is messing with me.

I went out with Mr. Short Term on Saturday night. And, of course, we had a great time. Which is why I say the universe is messing with me. Why does it only send interesting guys if they're NOT interested in a long term relationship? Or if they live in a different state? Or could be moving to a different state soon? Why do the guys looking for a long term, committed relationship right here in this town have to be crazy/boring/assholes? Bah.

I give you further proof of the vindictiveness of the universe: "I'm more of a cat person, myself." These words actually came out of his mouth!

Sigh. Okay, you want a few details, I'm sure.

I let him pick me up at my house. (I know, I know...but I've got a brass knuckle key chain and a cellphone. Shut up.) We'd spent so much time on the phone that it kind of seemed like we were already old friends. The first thing he did was start perusing my bookshelves to see what kind of books I read. ("Hey--I can't believe you have a copy of 'Lucifer's Hammer'!")

We went to the bar that I had discussed going to with Mr. Bud Is Great last week--the one with the extensive beer menu. We decided that we were going to "travel" to a different country for each beer. We went to several countries (although he did switch to iced tea at some point, since he was driving), split a garden burger and some tabouli midway, and had a lot of fun.

Yes, there was flirting. And mention of my amazing eyes. And the occasional "bumping" of knees. And playing with the ends of my (long) scarf. He told me an interesting story about meeting his sister for the first time a few years ago. (Very interesting story--he wants to write a book about it. I think it would also make a good movie or play.)

We left the bar, drove around a bit, made a stop at a karaoke bar so I could sing for him...you know, a typical evening out. Heh. There was some more intense flirting. We hung out at his place for a little while. Eventually we both started getting sleepy, and he drove me home.

He's an interesting guy, very gentlemanly, we had a good time, there was physical chemistry...I hate the universe!

I've talked to him on the phone a few times since then, and we're definitely planning to go out again, schedules permitting. I just have to keep reminding myself that this is SHORT TERM. Don't get too attached and don't stop considering other dating options. I do appreciate his honesty on that front...I really do. He has his reasons for not wanting to get too tied down, and I can respect that. I don't have to like it, necessarily, but I can respect it.

In other news...tomorrow is Inauguration Day! I'm taking the middle of the day off to go watch the doings on a bigscreen with other like-minded people. Should be fun!

It's official.

There are no good men left. My "here are your latest matches" email from Hayoo! personals today said, simply: "There are no new matches right now."

I knew it would happen eventually. Of course, I could try "refining" my search, I suppose, but I prefer to think they're just all used up. It's sort of a relief. Heh.

It's not a record...

...but I talked to Mr. Not Serious last night on the phone for 2 hours and 38 minutes. I think he might be serious about wanting "intellectually stimulating conversation," as opposed to the occasional booty call. (Or perhaps in addition to the occasional booty call...I'm not sure about that yet. Hee.)

What does one talk about for that length of time? Well, many things...but a great deal of the time was taken up by him doing my astrological chart. (He's a longtime, though amateur, astrologist.) And, I have to say...most of what he said was right on the money. Fascinating. He said there's NO WAY I should have been a doctor (remember yesterday's angsting?), as there is virtually no activity in the 7th house--the house of medicine. And, according to him, my chart virtually assures that I should be an actress. Hmmm....

It was all very detailed--planets, houses, signs, red, blue and green lines, conflations, and I might have thought he was shading some of his assessments to make them seem more accurate to me...but he doesn't know me. Okay, the medicine thing I did ask about, but a lot of the rest of it, well...he'd have no way of knowing what I would expect the answers to be. While analyzing my relationship aspects, at one point he said I had a "square" in the love area. Which made me laugh out loud. You see...(I guess it does no harm to reveal this now)...New Guy's last name was...Square. Bwa!

Eventually he got around to doing our "composite" chart, to see what kind of relationship the two of us might have. "Interesting, possibly intense. But I have to say...I see most of the activity being short term, not long term. (short pause, then he nervously continued) Are you going to hang up on me now?" I just laughed. Dude, you told me right upfront you weren't looking for a long term commitment. And you told me tonight you were afraid you were going to be transferred to a different "home base" for your job fairly soon. You haven't exactly misled me here.

So, maybe he's completely full of shit, but I had a good time talking to him. He finds me "fascinating," and we're planning to get together this weekend for a beer or something. I need someone to kill the time until Prince Charming comes along, right?

How did I end up here?

Nothing like "bacefook" for bringing home how very much you've wasted your potential. By which I mean that I found out today that one of my goofy high school band friends is now assistant dean of admissions at one of the Ivy League's most prestigious medical schools. And I changed my major from pre-med to music...why? Not that a major in music can't do good things for you, of course...one of my other high school band friends plays with a very major orchestra in NYC. Am I the only one who didn't do big things with my talent and smarts, or does it just feel that way? Sigh.

Speaking of underachievers...I just got panhandled in the convenience store parking lot. The guy wanted "fifty cents" because he'd just been "locked out of his house." Dude, what good is fifty cents going to do you? (I didn't give it to him, by the way. I had no change, loser that I am. Heh.)

I had a nice, long telephone conversation with a new online guy last night...he's a vegan and a union organizer who minored in modern dance in college. Sounds promising, right? The drawback? He travels a lot, and wanted to make sure I knew right upfront that he's not looking for anything serious. We'll probably get together for a beer, though. Sigh again.

"Joe the Plumber" doesn't think the media should be allowed to "report on wars." He said this from Israel, where he's...reporting on the war. Insert extra-large eye roll here.

Excuse me now while I try to go get myself out of this MOOD. Calgon...take me away!

This cracks me up...

Lifted from an actual online dating profile: "I have been to all 50 states, except for Hawaii, Montana, Idaho and the New England states north of New York." Dude, that's a lot of excepting! Hee.

In other news, I have figured out why I seem to have a soft spot for Roland Burris, possible replacement for Obama in the Senate: he kind of looks like an older, shorter New Guy. Right down to the glasses. Sigh.

In other, other news: I have exercised every day this week so far--my back twinges a bit occasionally, but seems to be holding up otherwise. I have also not had a single between-meal snack or any sort of creamy indulgence in several days. It's not so much a New Year's resolution as a horrified reaction to the pictures the BFF posted of me on his bacefook page. Wish me luck.

Speaking of luck-wishing, I believe I'm going to redeem my free speed-dating credit next week. God help me. But it's FREE. And there will be free appetizers. And you know, in this economy...

Good weekends, all!

Dinner with "casserole"

No, not casserole FOR dinner, dinner with "casserole." See yesterday's post if you're confused.

Anyway, I had dinner last night with Mr. "You Have Too Many Cats." We had stayed in pretty regular contact, trading pleasant, non-consequential messages back and forth, and had discussed that we might possibly have dinner together one night. So, last night was the night.

Some people should just be pen pals, I guess. Sigh.

He picked me up at my house--something I was actually looking forward to, as I wanted to knock down those stereotypical images of what he imagined a house being lived in by [number redacted] cats would be like. I had tried to convince him that my house a) doesn't generally smell and b) isn't swimming in knee-deep cat hair, but I don't think he ever really believed me. Until last night, when he was forced to admit that he never would have imagined I had animals. He only saw a couple of them, of course, since the shy ones scoot when strangers come, and he kept saying, "but I thought you said you had a lot of cats." I DO, dude. They're hiding. Would I seriously have inflated the number of cats I have, just for fun? 'Cause we all know guys dig chicks with LOTS of cats. Heh.

So, when I actually laid eyes on him, was I sorry to have been proactively defaulted to friend status? Ummm...NO. No physical attraction whatsoever.

Anyway, off we go. We discuss where to go, he suggests a popular bar/restaurant downtown, I say "ooh, they have the BEST beer menu," he enthusiastically agrees (remember this a little later) and we head that direction. As we approach the place, though, the incredible number of cars reminds me: oh, they have that Wednesday Night Burger Special. "Can't beat that, right?" he says. Well, I don't eat burgers, so it doesn't do anything for me. "You don't eat BURGERS?" he asks in a tone of disbelief. Well, I'm a vegetarian, remember? (We had discussed that before.) So, I eat veggie burgers, but that's not what's on special. "What's a veggie burger?"

Okay...this is 2009, right? How the hell can he never have heard of a veggie burger? I mean, I'm not expecting him to be conversant on the pros and cons of different brands or anything...but the concept itself is not that radical, is it? I explain that a veggie burger features a patty made of vegetable protein, and he says, over and over, somewhat disdainfully, "whatever, I guess, whatever."

Did I neglect to mention that, in person, he's really, really prone to some very annoying verbal tics?

Anyway, the restaurant is entirely too crowded, so I suggest we go to another restaurant a few blocks away, which I'm sure won't be too busy on a weeknight. We go there, it isn't, we sit down. The waiter comes up, asks if he can get us something to drink, iced tea or maybe a beer?

"I'll have a Bud," he says. This is where you're supposed to remember the part about the great beer menu at the first restaurant. Why the hell would it matter if all you're going to do is order a Bud? I ask the waiter, beer snob that I am, what do you have that's better? You'd have thought I kicked a puppy. "Better than BUD?!" (This from the casserole, not the waiter.) "It's the BEST." Oh, dear lord. I order a Newcastle. The drinks come, I take a sip, and say, in my best passive-aggressive manner (heh), now that's some good beer. "Why don't you like Bud?" Because it's a watered-down, tasteless swill full of chemicals. He is aghast: "Who told you that?" I told myself that, dude, after drinking plenty of it in my young, stupid days. It has no real taste and hurts my stomach. "Whatever, I guess, whatever."

We continue looking at the menu...speaking of verbal tics: every time his eyes move from one item to the next, he says in a monotone, "uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh." Dear lord, choose something soon.

We order, I do indeed order a veggie burger, and once it arrives he has to start in with the "that looks pretty good...if only it had some meat on it" jokes. 'Cause, in 14 years of vegetarianism, I've never heard THAT one before. Finally, I smile and suggest politely that if he won't mock my food choices, I won't mock his. He shuts up.

Anyway, we eat...I manage to steer the conversation onto topics we can agree on--the importance of music and environmentalism--and things are okay. He grabs the check, I don't even pretend to argue, and he takes me home. An awkward handshake and a "nice to meet you in person and thanks for dinner" and...we're done.

And the moral of the story? Don't EVER think you really know someone from conversing with them online, I guess. Online, they may be relatively charming, while in person, they might be a socially awkward dork (and not in a good way) with no ass and with enough verbal tics to...to...I don't know...to ANNOY you. (In cyberspace, nobody hears you tic. Hee.)

On the plus side...he didn't have stubby hands. Hee. I don't know if we can go back to being online pen pals now, though, sadly...I just can't get the constant "whatever, I guess, whatever" refrain out of my head.

But first...cuteness!

Pete the Kitten says hello. Don't you just want to eat him up?

Now...about that dating/vegetarian at the potluck comparison. I guess there really isn't all that much "expounding" to do. It's pretty straight forward.

It's challenging to be a vegetarian at your average potluck. Oh, there are generally plenty of dishes lined up there on that table. And sure, some of them can be ruled out instantly--the fried chicken, for example. Or the green beans glistening with fat from those chunks of ham they've been cooked with. But aside from the obvious carnivorous choices, and the occasional bright green salad (sans bacon bits), there are also a lot of mysterious casseroles. If I can't discreetly inquire of the cook "ooh...what's in this?" then I generally skip them, since otherwise I've got to do a little poking and prodding, looking for cleverly concealed chunks of flesh. And don't even get me started on chicken broth--it's in everything.

It's not impossible to have a satisfying meal--it's just not always that easy. And, for me, an artsy/liberal/vegetarian girl in a predominantly conservative and often rednecky part of the country, online dating provides a similar challenge.

Oh sure, there are plenty of choices. And many of them can be dismissed out of hand: the guy whose profile picture features him proudly holding aloft his recently killed deer. The one whose marital status says "ask me later." Most guys on Harleys. Anybody who is shirtless in his picture, unless he is literally standing in the surf, and even then it's a toss-up. (I mean...if he looks really, really good shirtless...heh.) But shirtless in your bathroom mirror in what is obviously a self-portrait? Ew.

Sadly, I hardly ever see an online "salad." But there are all these "casserole" guys--they look okay on the surface, but you get to poking and find an unexpected little piece of neoconservative. Drat! Or it turns out that "I love animals" means "except for cats" or, worse, "stuffed and displayed on my wall." Darn! Or they think a theater is where you go to watch the latest big-budget movie and never to see a play. Sigh. Or--gasp!--their idea of good Asian food is sweet-and-sour pork from a fast-food Chinese drive-through. Heh.

Now, I'm not saying these guys aren't right for SOMEBODY...they're just not right for ME. Like that fried chicken at the potluck.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot?

No! Auld acquaintance should be your companions on New Year's Eve and Day.

By which I mean that I passed a delightful New Year's Eve and Day and Night with the BFF and his handsome beau, The Steve. I hadn't seen them in a non-funereal setting in...too long. And I hadn't actually been out of the house on NYE in...well, let's see. I definitely remember a New Year's party that involved discussion of whether or not we had stored enough potable water, so that would have been 1999. Heh. I truly can't recall whether I've been to a New Year's party since.

We didn't do anything grand on the Eve...just went out to eat Mexican food and drink Mexican beer in a surprisingly uncrowded restaurant, then back to their luxury hotel suite (that's an inside joke) to sip champagne. And laugh. And watch bits of the "Elf" marathon on TV. And enjoy the company of their delightful dogs. And laugh some more.

The next day we indulged in my usual New Year's Day Indian buffet for lunch (they can always be counted on for black-eyed peas, and it counts even if they're in a cold, Indian-spiced salad, right?), then hit the mall for some gift card redemption. We ended up in the 75% off holiday gift aisle, and made some most delightful purchases. A super-sparkly red snowflake ornament, for example. An adorable little stuffed bear ornament with a tiny, tiny head and huge (by comparison) legs. He's now Zippy the Pin-Headed Bear. And this:

Well, never mind. Blogger won't let me add an image. Damn you, Blogger! You'll just have to take my word for how cute a shiny red pocket tool set with an attached LED light can be. I named it Monte, after a certain tool who blew me off recently. Heh.

Then we hung out at my house for a while, drank some beer, went to dinner at my favorite vegetarian Vietnamese restaurant, then went to the luxury suite for a bit more champagne sipping, before I headed home relatively early. I had to work the next day, you see, and they had to get up and drive home to Tennessee.

It was a short visit, but exceedingly pleasant. Except for that stinkin' fancy camera BFF got for Christmas. It was one of those tiny little things, and BFF kept pulling it out to snap photos. Well, I don't like having my picture taken, as I am most decidedly NOT photogenic, generally, and so I have developed a defense mechanism to deal with a camera in my face. I beat the camera to the punch, so to speak. I make myself look bad on purpose! I make silly faces, sometimes with accompanying silly hand gestures. Or I hide behind a scarf. Like you do. Heh.

So, every time the camera came up, I'd strike a goofy pose. Unbeknownst to me, however...this camera also has video capability. So there I'd be...posing away...wondering what the hell is taking so long, and why the BFF looks so amused. "I've been videoing you this whole time." AAAGGGHHH! I'm told the resulting footage is "hilarious," and that I look like a mannequin. I wouldn't know; I refused to watch it. If it's on "TouYube," well...I just don't want to know.

Here's why we're BFFs: on Friday I went to the drugstore across the street from work to check out their 75% off Christmas aisle, and got, among other things, a delightfully sparkly glass ornament in the shape of a goldfish. I mentioned this to BFF on the phone. "Oh, so it's suitable for year-round display!" EXACTLY, BFF, EXACTLY. (It's in my kitchen right now. Near the glass rooster ornament, of course.)

Tomorrow, maybe I'll expound on my recent revelation that, for me, trying to date the men in this town is like being a vegetarian at a potluck. Heh.