Feeling the need to go out and shake things up somewhat, I decided I had to to go out this weekend. The snow slow-down on Friday banished all interest I may have had about going out that night, so Saturday seemed perfect. I had a prime parking spot on the right side of the snow-emergency parking rules, so therefore, did not want to move my car. When I mused over my options, I remembered that my hot tub conversation partner from the gym last week mentioned a free salsa dancing night on Saturdays at a place near my new apartment. Using Google Maps, I determined it was only 8 blocks away. I was sold.
I quickly donned a combination of warm and dance-capable clothes, threw some strappy heels into my purse, and headed out into the snow. The leggings under my skirt did not really keep me warm without pants over them, but I persevered anyway, reminding myself that I grew up with this weather! I trod happily along, not knowing what to expect, but confident that this adventure would be fun. It is sometimes surprising that I am the same person who sometimes cannot decide with which foot to start walking! My nerves were steely, is that how one might describe nerves?
I crossed over the Nicollet Avenue bridge that spans across I-94 with excitement; I can walk to downtown so easily now! This was a momentous crossing, my virgin voyage. My joy was fleeting, as my mind does not dwell on anything, even happy thoughts. My thoughts hopped around madly from such things as how easy it would be for someone to climb over the fence and jump to their death on the highway to how like a child one moves when all swaddled in winter garments. My skirt felt like a costume, marking me a hipster who wear skirts in bitter cold because looks are more important than warmth? With my knew high boots, which are conveniently practical and trendy, I looked almost badass, in an army-boot-chic sort of way. I delude myself, I am simply incapable of badassitude!
For a moment I thought I turned on the wrong street, as apartment buildings lined the street and no flashy lights signaled a salsa place that I could see. But pushing along further, I suddenly spied the place...it's side entrance having been obscured by one of the apartment places. My feet slowed for a beat, because this almost looked too fancy for me, what a surprise. I think it was my certainty that the man from the gym would be here, welcoming me with a smile and an instantaneous lesson in salsa technique that kept my feet moving inside. Once through the door, my poise returned.
But certainty is a funny thing...it always get's the last laugh with me. I believe people much too easily! He was not there, and I did not see him for the entire night. After changing into my shoes and taking up a graceful pose by the side of the dance floor, I began to surrender to the music, and the night. While I sipped my first glass of wine, I continued to care about finding the man and dancing with him first, to gain some experiential confidence. Before long, however, I was approached by a man, who swooped in on me as if I were a juicy field mouse and he, a hungry owl. How unexpected and delightful! This was no high school dance.
Going out alone has only a few downfalls I have found. The most despicable is the matter of the unattended drink. It is a definite NO-NO to leave your drink unattended as a single female. The small chance that there is a scheming man ready to drug your drink and slyly make excuses for carrying you out like a sack of potatoes deters most young ladies from taking such a risk. Consequently, when drinking for one, each drink becomes a commitment...until it is finished you are wed to that glass or plastic cup. At a salsa dance, a wedding ring would not deter a partner from asking for a dance, but a wine glass in hand caused me to have to turn down 5 men! Next time I am going to do shots!
(I was able to hang my coat on a hook that held no allegiance to a certain table, shove my boots under an unused stool, and even find a sort of cool place to hide my purse while I danced...on a chair at the bottom of a stack of chairs near the floor. I felt the place was dark enough to obscure it, but still think, next time I will stick everything in my coat pockets. It felt very freeing to walk around with just my wine glass.)
Sadly, as I result of my two glasses of liquid courage (which definitely helped, but were not not needed), I dance with only three men in all, after receiving at least 8 invitations, a constant stream. I was content with that. I covered the gamut of partners and feel sure of my imminent return. My first partner, a middle-aged man with a little girth about him, thought he was a better leader than he really was. We danced for a bit with out much issues, as he guided me through the basics. Then he tried to tell me a new step, with words that did not match how he led me and I struggled to comply...he coaxed me with words and more words, until I had to tune him out and pretend he was leading me better. I figure it out eventually, but he was hard to follow even then...could it be the girth?
My second partner was a younger, thinner man, who exuded a sense of boyish propriety. When I told him I had very little experience he assumed the role of teacher and tried to tell me the basics I knew already. Then he led me through only very basic steps, changing in up only slightly. Our dance helped me to loosen up some, but I felt was banal overall, lacking soul. It was a very proper dance, exactly what I would expect from such a man. I have heard that you can really get to know a man by the way he dances, and now I am starting to believe it. What would someone say about me after I danced with them? I shall have to put out a survey. I saw this guy later dancing with someone else, and this dance seemed to have more energy and fun, but I could still a stiffness to his sensuality that spoke volumes about him. I just wish he could have set the bar a little higher for me...why not see how far I was able to go?
I took a little food break partly so I could finish this glass of wine without interruption, partly so I could interact more with a particular bartender. Some serving people put just a little extra effort in order to personalize your interaction with them, and it makes all the difference: a smile, eye contact or a slightly unique way of asking the generic questions. It is hard to say if he was doing his job well or flirting with me or doing his job well by flirting with me, but I wanted to interact more. So I ordered some food, and while I did, I noticed he had some words tattooed on his forearm. Unconsciously, I must have felt a reason to ask about it, for I suddenly did. He told me they were the lyrics of a Leonard Cohen song!! I almost thought I heard him wrong for I absolutely love the 76-year-old singer! I have completely forgotten the song, and did not read the lyrics, but some time when it is not busy, I will return to ask this bartender what compelled him to permanently mark himself with the words of my darling Leonard!
As I was reaching for my coat to leave, feeling no further inclination to dance, a tall, dark and handsome man asked me if I wanted to dance. I did not need much cajoling, but a little was fun to wait for...and I was convinced! He seemed a little buzzed, just to the point of careless boldness. He scoffed at my admission of being a beginner, unconcerned. We started to dance and instantly I was changed into a sassier self! He led me with precision, joyously challenging me to have fun above all else. We laughed out loud as we danced and I fell in love with salsa right then. Our dance felt like a true partnership, a true meeting of two people who both had value. I was not a simple-minded follower or a a prop for show in this dance. We did not get everything right all the time, but we laughed about that. He was not always paying attention to the other dancers around us, so I sometimes bumped into them on a turn, but I did not pause to apologize for him...the dance had caught me and it is likely we will dance again...if he remembers me without his beer-goggles.
What a gem of a place to find so close to home...it is a one-stop shop for flirting, dancing, wining and dining...I have found my match!
Monday, December 6, 2010
Friday, December 3, 2010
"Singling" in a Winter Wonderland
Minneapolis is being dusted with snow tonight, which I hope appeases my snow-loving friends. Snow really is beautiful and magical, but making a twenty minute commute turn into 100 minutes is not my idea of tranquility. After finally making it ho,e and wrestling with mailbox, I headed out in the downy night for a peaceful cup of hot cocoa at the Spyhouse Coffeehouse.
Sitting in a dark corner I was able to observe many patrons easily. As I watched some of my treasured Korean dramas I also noted that I have migrated to an area where there are more young people (and by that I mean, young MEN!). My new neighborhood is more fitting for me, a single gal still figuring her way in the world. I lived among too many families back near Powderhorn...all the men at nearby coffeeshops wore gold rings...and I am not about to hit on an attached man! I will have to work on my flirtation skills as well as my ability to engage in conversation with strangers.
Last night, I swam at the end of my workout at the gym. The hot tub, whirlypool-thingamabob seemed like a nice conclusion for my muscles. Two men were in the tub already and engaged in conversation about swimming. I got in, conscious of the fact that I had not shaved my legs but not caring if they judged me for it. I tried to create a private space around me, for no reasonable reason, and tried to pretend the water was as hot as it should be.
The older of the two men soon rose to get into the pool for his swim, and I stretched out a bit further, hoping the water would get warmer through sheer patience. The younger man across from me saw right through my invisible barrier and started a conversation. Personal boundaries are amazingly hard shells for something you cannot see!! As soon as he spoke, I felt the shell crack and fall away, revealing a soft and gooey me inside. Conversation oozed out of me and all semblance of aloofness shattered. My attitude completely changed so I became immediately approachable...but, only after I was approached. Hmmm...
We spoke for a long time, of dance, work, dance, travel and dance. He is a ballroom dance instructor and wanted me to visit the studio sometime. He is clearly the person that I have not yet learned to be...completely unabashedly affable. I haven"t master the unabashed part. Two things I took away from the conversation: one-he told me how I spoke reminded him of dance...it was easy, flowing; two-he commented that a person may look like they do not want to talk, but perhaps they are like me, and just need someone else to make the first move.
I vow, today, to practice talking to people more often at the gym, at the coffeeshop and anywhere I can. In fact, I did this already! As I wrested with a screwdriver and my mailbox (there being no key to it yet) two men came out of the apartment closest to me. I asked them if they knew how to break into a mailbox. With some hesitation, they gallantly came to my rescue and one of them in under 5 seconds had the mailbox open and my mail was in my hand! I opened the door for interaction and literally had another door opened for me! I think I am learning my lesson - this WORKS!
Sitting in a dark corner I was able to observe many patrons easily. As I watched some of my treasured Korean dramas I also noted that I have migrated to an area where there are more young people (and by that I mean, young MEN!). My new neighborhood is more fitting for me, a single gal still figuring her way in the world. I lived among too many families back near Powderhorn...all the men at nearby coffeeshops wore gold rings...and I am not about to hit on an attached man! I will have to work on my flirtation skills as well as my ability to engage in conversation with strangers.
Last night, I swam at the end of my workout at the gym. The hot tub, whirlypool-thingamabob seemed like a nice conclusion for my muscles. Two men were in the tub already and engaged in conversation about swimming. I got in, conscious of the fact that I had not shaved my legs but not caring if they judged me for it. I tried to create a private space around me, for no reasonable reason, and tried to pretend the water was as hot as it should be.
The older of the two men soon rose to get into the pool for his swim, and I stretched out a bit further, hoping the water would get warmer through sheer patience. The younger man across from me saw right through my invisible barrier and started a conversation. Personal boundaries are amazingly hard shells for something you cannot see!! As soon as he spoke, I felt the shell crack and fall away, revealing a soft and gooey me inside. Conversation oozed out of me and all semblance of aloofness shattered. My attitude completely changed so I became immediately approachable...but, only after I was approached. Hmmm...
We spoke for a long time, of dance, work, dance, travel and dance. He is a ballroom dance instructor and wanted me to visit the studio sometime. He is clearly the person that I have not yet learned to be...completely unabashedly affable. I haven"t master the unabashed part. Two things I took away from the conversation: one-he told me how I spoke reminded him of dance...it was easy, flowing; two-he commented that a person may look like they do not want to talk, but perhaps they are like me, and just need someone else to make the first move.
I vow, today, to practice talking to people more often at the gym, at the coffeeshop and anywhere I can. In fact, I did this already! As I wrested with a screwdriver and my mailbox (there being no key to it yet) two men came out of the apartment closest to me. I asked them if they knew how to break into a mailbox. With some hesitation, they gallantly came to my rescue and one of them in under 5 seconds had the mailbox open and my mail was in my hand! I opened the door for interaction and literally had another door opened for me! I think I am learning my lesson - this WORKS!
Monday, November 22, 2010
Single with Mice, past-tense
For the last three months, I have been forced to share my home with mice which makes me very thankful to be moved into a new place. I never would have predicted how low my tolerance level for mice actually is. I hate mice. I have been transformed into a girly mess over these rodents. Spiders are fine, box elder bugs are fine, I would even prefer a Rabies-infected bat! (I also really hate those house centipedes that are super speedy and come out of drains! eew!) Mice are not easy to get rid of and the poop EVERYWHERE! It is very disconcerting to know where the mice has been by their excessive excrement. As I prepare to move, I feel almost like I have lost to the mice.
I have seen mice in two other houses where I was sleeping; both were ex-boyfriends' homes when they were there too. Hearing and seeing a mouse when in the presence of a man was completely different to finding them on my own. I have tried to reflect on this difference and really hope it is not about having a big strong man to protect me. The two mice seen with boyfriends were only seen once by me, and seemed to stay in areas I was not about to sleep. I did boot-up when I saw one in the kitchen where I had been cooking barefoot, but I then proceeded to sleep on the mattress on the floor 10 feet away from the kitchen door. Having arms around me did not hurt too of course.
I first discovered definite mousage problems when I had just returned from Europe this summer. There had been a brief suspicion earlier, after some dirt mysteriously jumped out of a potted plant, twice, but without any other evidence. I was home alone, at night, sitting in my comfy chair watching something on my computer, when I heard a crinkle of plastic on my art table. The fan may have been on, so I thought nothing of it. However, your brain can somehow tell when something is not correlated...and this noise was not caused by the fan. I went to investigate if a box elder bug had landed on something. I picked up a box to move it, and a mouse leaped out and ran across the floor! Talk about a surprise! I squealed and probably ran away or did a little dance!
In my bedroom, one door over, I sat on the bed heart thumping. There was more light in this room and I was clearly there, but nonetheless a mouse or the same one decided to run into my room from the other room. I squealed again, and I like to think the mouse squeaked in response, and ran back the way it had come! This was not pleasant, not exciting at all. We were as far from the kitchen as possible and I was not happy to think about going to sleep that night.
I woke up three times that night hearing mice and worrying about mice. It was not enjoyable trust me. Mice are cute when they are pets for some reason, but little lightening bolts of fur streaking across the floor where your bare feet just were is eerie. I ever since worn shoes or heavy slippers when walking anywhere in my house. Besides the thought of little claws digging into my flesh as a mouse sought refuge in my pant leg, I did not want to step on any carcasses when we put out the poison that made them drop dead anywhere. Finding dead mice made me scream just as much as seeing a living one!
How I missed a man during these mousy months! I wanted to surrender into a man's arms, relinquishing my tough shell to fully expose the gooey girly core. But alas, I was -am- single. I have survived the mouse house and (fingers crossed) have not brought any stowaways along with me. I now reside in a sweet bachelorette-pad near downtown Minneapolis. It is as if I have moved to a Midwestern New York City neighborhood. Living in an apartment is quite a change from the homey family-friendly neighborhood where I left, and I hope to become a person worthy of this younger-, hipper-, and much more appropriate-apartment. I raise my paper cup of lemonade to my new adventure...and now to find my drink glasses...
I have seen mice in two other houses where I was sleeping; both were ex-boyfriends' homes when they were there too. Hearing and seeing a mouse when in the presence of a man was completely different to finding them on my own. I have tried to reflect on this difference and really hope it is not about having a big strong man to protect me. The two mice seen with boyfriends were only seen once by me, and seemed to stay in areas I was not about to sleep. I did boot-up when I saw one in the kitchen where I had been cooking barefoot, but I then proceeded to sleep on the mattress on the floor 10 feet away from the kitchen door. Having arms around me did not hurt too of course.
I first discovered definite mousage problems when I had just returned from Europe this summer. There had been a brief suspicion earlier, after some dirt mysteriously jumped out of a potted plant, twice, but without any other evidence. I was home alone, at night, sitting in my comfy chair watching something on my computer, when I heard a crinkle of plastic on my art table. The fan may have been on, so I thought nothing of it. However, your brain can somehow tell when something is not correlated...and this noise was not caused by the fan. I went to investigate if a box elder bug had landed on something. I picked up a box to move it, and a mouse leaped out and ran across the floor! Talk about a surprise! I squealed and probably ran away or did a little dance!
In my bedroom, one door over, I sat on the bed heart thumping. There was more light in this room and I was clearly there, but nonetheless a mouse or the same one decided to run into my room from the other room. I squealed again, and I like to think the mouse squeaked in response, and ran back the way it had come! This was not pleasant, not exciting at all. We were as far from the kitchen as possible and I was not happy to think about going to sleep that night.
I woke up three times that night hearing mice and worrying about mice. It was not enjoyable trust me. Mice are cute when they are pets for some reason, but little lightening bolts of fur streaking across the floor where your bare feet just were is eerie. I ever since worn shoes or heavy slippers when walking anywhere in my house. Besides the thought of little claws digging into my flesh as a mouse sought refuge in my pant leg, I did not want to step on any carcasses when we put out the poison that made them drop dead anywhere. Finding dead mice made me scream just as much as seeing a living one!
How I missed a man during these mousy months! I wanted to surrender into a man's arms, relinquishing my tough shell to fully expose the gooey girly core. But alas, I was -am- single. I have survived the mouse house and (fingers crossed) have not brought any stowaways along with me. I now reside in a sweet bachelorette-pad near downtown Minneapolis. It is as if I have moved to a Midwestern New York City neighborhood. Living in an apartment is quite a change from the homey family-friendly neighborhood where I left, and I hope to become a person worthy of this younger-, hipper-, and much more appropriate-apartment. I raise my paper cup of lemonade to my new adventure...and now to find my drink glasses...
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Book Review: Have Him at Hello by Rachel Greenwald
As I have mentioned, I have been reading dating advice books lately. Before I begin to share my thoughts on them, I want to issue a disclaimer.
Disclaimer:
I do not believe any book has all the answers to help anyone get a boyfriend/girlfriend and I do not recognize any author as a true authority whom I must obey. I read these books as a form of meditation on the issues I have, and I use them only to help direct my self-analysis.
Title: Have Him at Hello: Confessions from 1,000 guys about what makes them fall in love...or never cal back
Author: Rachel Greenwald
Three reasons women think are why men do not call:
1) Timing -not ready for a relationship
2) Fear -of being hurt again
3) Why bother? -perceived her disinterest and decided not to pursue a lost cause
The author researched why men actually did not call a woman back after a first date. The top ten reasons describe how their date was too much like:
1) a Boss Lady, someone who acted too dominant, which appears controlling, unfeminine, and competitive
2) the Blahs, someone who is just generally boring, hard to engage and unopinionated
3) a Bait and Switcher, someone who creates a false impression of themselves in order to get asked out
4) a Park Avenue Princess, someone seen as high-maintenance or overly concerned with money/things
5) a Closer, someone overly focused on obtaining a boyfriend, husband or child, which seems needy
6) a Flasher, someone who reveals a lot of negative personal information and baggage right away
7) a Bitch-in-Boots, someone who just seems mean, acting rude towards her date or a third-party
8) a Debbie Downer, someone who constantly complains or is generally bitter and cynical
9) an Ex-Factor, someone who talks too much about her ex-boyfriend/ex-husband
10) a One-way Street, someone who dominates the date and acts self-absorbed
For each of the above unattractive perceptions, the author describes the behavior, quotes many different men, then provides a checklist for the reader to see if she may be seen this way. The last part of each section covers ways to counter the perception proactively, by doing other things instead. Thankfully, I do not believe I fell into every category, but using the checklist I was able to identify a few areas where I can improve.
Although, I consider myself independent and able to accomplish things, I am by no means a Boss Lady. Since I am not exactly where I want to be in my life jobwise, I have no identifying ties to my title. Without any vanity, I am happy to say I am not the Blahs, a Bait and Switcher or a Park Avenue Princess either! I thought it was possible I could be the Closer, or the Flasher or the Ex-Factor because I have, contrary to all advice from everyone, done whatever I wanted on a first date thinking honesty was the best thing. So I have been attracted to someone's marriage potential and revealed some baggage...about an ex-relationship too soon. But I did not quite fit into any of these top personae. So I read on.
I, also, did not meet the criteria for the next five date-breaker issues which were so interesting the author felt she had to include them. I was not (11) a Seinfeld, someone with a particular quirk that didn't sit right with the man (e.g. eating your peas one at a time ala one of Jerry's girlfriends), (12) a Never-Ever, someone who make an absolute statement about having kids or something else of importance to the man, (13) a Birds-of-a-Feather, someone on whom friends or family negatively reflects based on simple association, (14) a Psychobabbler, someone who spews too much therapy-inspired language, nor (15) a Wino (no explanation necessary).
This book was fast becoming wast of my time, so I had to flip through the rest to find something more interesting. I turned doubtfully to the next section on post-date problems that cause a man to lose interest. Part of me screamed, "I am bot even having FIRST dates, let alone SECOND!! Where is the book for me?!!" This section offered me better insight surprisingly. The top five reasons the connection is dropped after a first date are very similar to the first meet, at least for me. I manage to blow a first meeting and never even get to a first date, even when their were sparks! I think I am just bad at fanning the flames without putting them out completely! Sigh.
Five post-date-breakers:
1) The Sadie Hawkins, someone who pursues a man too hard herself before the man has had any fun chasing her
2) The Flame-Out, a relationship that begins with intense emotional or physical intimacy, but it was too much, too soon
3) The Busy Bee, someone who has too many other commitments to make a second date or seems too popular in general during the first date
4) The R U 4 Real, someone who gives a bad impression through electronic communication, either through a confusing message, poor spelling or inexplicable silence
5) The Tailspin, someone who gets so upset about how long it takes a man to call her back, that when he does she acts aloof
I am, unmistakably, a Sadie Hawkins...sigh...sigh...sigh. I do not want to sit on my hands just to let the men have all the fun of the chase! Why must women always make sacrifices of their own happiness for that of men?! (Ok, I fully acknowledge that hyperbolic statement is inaccurate, but let me please artistically express myself.) Sadie Hawkins was a character in a satirical comic of Li'l Abner who literally chased men in a race held by her father for her to find a husband. Modern women are doing more and more on par with men, but it makes me ill when I contemplate letting men chase me and being the object of the chase. I may be incapable of preventing myself from chasing something (anything) I want. The world should be thankful I have not truly wanted the moon!
Men, do you know how hard it is to flirt with a man but then not pursue him? Do you realize that make-up and clothes are our plumage which is flaunted just to catch your eye and make you come a running? (And do you realize how rarely it works?) I have been going to bars looking smashing and yet to find someone who is truly interested in approaching me to ask for my number. Maybe I just have to wear this one red dress that caused quite a stir last summer...hmmm....who cares if it is winter?
Disclaimer:
I do not believe any book has all the answers to help anyone get a boyfriend/girlfriend and I do not recognize any author as a true authority whom I must obey. I read these books as a form of meditation on the issues I have, and I use them only to help direct my self-analysis.
Title: Have Him at Hello: Confessions from 1,000 guys about what makes them fall in love...or never cal back
Author: Rachel Greenwald
Three reasons women think are why men do not call:
1) Timing -not ready for a relationship
2) Fear -of being hurt again
3) Why bother? -perceived her disinterest and decided not to pursue a lost cause
The author researched why men actually did not call a woman back after a first date. The top ten reasons describe how their date was too much like:
1) a Boss Lady, someone who acted too dominant, which appears controlling, unfeminine, and competitive
2) the Blahs, someone who is just generally boring, hard to engage and unopinionated
3) a Bait and Switcher, someone who creates a false impression of themselves in order to get asked out
4) a Park Avenue Princess, someone seen as high-maintenance or overly concerned with money/things
5) a Closer, someone overly focused on obtaining a boyfriend, husband or child, which seems needy
6) a Flasher, someone who reveals a lot of negative personal information and baggage right away
7) a Bitch-in-Boots, someone who just seems mean, acting rude towards her date or a third-party
8) a Debbie Downer, someone who constantly complains or is generally bitter and cynical
9) an Ex-Factor, someone who talks too much about her ex-boyfriend/ex-husband
10) a One-way Street, someone who dominates the date and acts self-absorbed
For each of the above unattractive perceptions, the author describes the behavior, quotes many different men, then provides a checklist for the reader to see if she may be seen this way. The last part of each section covers ways to counter the perception proactively, by doing other things instead. Thankfully, I do not believe I fell into every category, but using the checklist I was able to identify a few areas where I can improve.
Although, I consider myself independent and able to accomplish things, I am by no means a Boss Lady. Since I am not exactly where I want to be in my life jobwise, I have no identifying ties to my title. Without any vanity, I am happy to say I am not the Blahs, a Bait and Switcher or a Park Avenue Princess either! I thought it was possible I could be the Closer, or the Flasher or the Ex-Factor because I have, contrary to all advice from everyone, done whatever I wanted on a first date thinking honesty was the best thing. So I have been attracted to someone's marriage potential and revealed some baggage...about an ex-relationship too soon. But I did not quite fit into any of these top personae. So I read on.
I, also, did not meet the criteria for the next five date-breaker issues which were so interesting the author felt she had to include them. I was not (11) a Seinfeld, someone with a particular quirk that didn't sit right with the man (e.g. eating your peas one at a time ala one of Jerry's girlfriends), (12) a Never-Ever, someone who make an absolute statement about having kids or something else of importance to the man, (13) a Birds-of-a-Feather, someone on whom friends or family negatively reflects based on simple association, (14) a Psychobabbler, someone who spews too much therapy-inspired language, nor (15) a Wino (no explanation necessary).
This book was fast becoming wast of my time, so I had to flip through the rest to find something more interesting. I turned doubtfully to the next section on post-date problems that cause a man to lose interest. Part of me screamed, "I am bot even having FIRST dates, let alone SECOND!! Where is the book for me?!!" This section offered me better insight surprisingly. The top five reasons the connection is dropped after a first date are very similar to the first meet, at least for me. I manage to blow a first meeting and never even get to a first date, even when their were sparks! I think I am just bad at fanning the flames without putting them out completely! Sigh.
Five post-date-breakers:
1) The Sadie Hawkins, someone who pursues a man too hard herself before the man has had any fun chasing her
2) The Flame-Out, a relationship that begins with intense emotional or physical intimacy, but it was too much, too soon
3) The Busy Bee, someone who has too many other commitments to make a second date or seems too popular in general during the first date
4) The R U 4 Real, someone who gives a bad impression through electronic communication, either through a confusing message, poor spelling or inexplicable silence
5) The Tailspin, someone who gets so upset about how long it takes a man to call her back, that when he does she acts aloof
I am, unmistakably, a Sadie Hawkins...sigh...sigh...sigh. I do not want to sit on my hands just to let the men have all the fun of the chase! Why must women always make sacrifices of their own happiness for that of men?! (Ok, I fully acknowledge that hyperbolic statement is inaccurate, but let me please artistically express myself.) Sadie Hawkins was a character in a satirical comic of Li'l Abner who literally chased men in a race held by her father for her to find a husband. Modern women are doing more and more on par with men, but it makes me ill when I contemplate letting men chase me and being the object of the chase. I may be incapable of preventing myself from chasing something (anything) I want. The world should be thankful I have not truly wanted the moon!
Men, do you know how hard it is to flirt with a man but then not pursue him? Do you realize that make-up and clothes are our plumage which is flaunted just to catch your eye and make you come a running? (And do you realize how rarely it works?) I have been going to bars looking smashing and yet to find someone who is truly interested in approaching me to ask for my number. Maybe I just have to wear this one red dress that caused quite a stir last summer...hmmm....who cares if it is winter?
Monday, November 15, 2010
Getting my flirt on (again thankfully!)
Last night, I was feeling discouraged. About what? I couldn't quite put my finger on it, so I guess it was about a little of everything. It got worse when a friend asked me online how I have been doing. Like always, I decided to be honest and answered snarkily with "just ok." Being the good friend that he is, he asked me to explain. My litany of minor complaints now seems petty and ridiculous. He covered every one of my woes with a silver lining, and I found myself unable to help seeing the bright side of things. I wouldn't have admitted this then though...I just rolled my eyes and unconvincingly agreed with him.
Before bed I glanced through a few of the dating advice books I had requested from the library. I decided I needed to see what supposed experts had to say, partly to help with my drinking for one experiment and partly because I am actually interested in being a better dater, making fewer mistakes. Some things made my ears perk but my attention flitted away to another book that put me to sleep. I knew I wanted to write about the dating ideas I had read about, but last night I was lacking passion.
Today, when I woke up, I had a totally different attitude. I was surprised to find out that I believed the positive messages from my friend! Before heading to the gym a day later than planned, I decided I wanted to put a little extra effort into my appearance and try one piece of dating advice on for size. The only tidbit that stood out for me from my one glance through the book was the idea that I could meet a man anywhere, anytime and not just in a bar on Friday night. I resolved to look at people around me more, as I kicked myself for forgetting that it is nice to engage with strangers instead of walking past without a thought.
My contacts were a must for a day like this, since I wanted to see all the men even in my periphery. I even brushed my eyebrows into a probably indiscernible different alignment. And then I exited the house in my favorite brown boots to find the makeup I left in the car. I am shocked to hear myself say this, but putting on just the smallest amount of makeup, can really make a girl feel more beautiful and happy with herself! In the car, at red lights, I brushed on some mascara, smacked my girly pink lipstick, and applies a little cover-up.
I strutted into the gym feeling like I got my sexiness back. I swear I caused a small extra pause in a conversation between three men as I walked by and flashed a small smile. I wanted to laugh out loud, but did not want to seem crazy. I soon was in a groovy rhythm on the elliptical machine, still thinking I was looking pretty great with my ponytail swinging. (I am a hot babe out jogging...making sure this stays a 10!) I kept my eyes open and felt this attitude fit me well.
I finished my workout with some back/biceps work but kept it light to go easy on my sore back. One of the assisted chin/dip machines was messed up, so I told the nearest trainer, who was eating a very healthy snack of celery and peanut butter. I had not seen him here before, maybe I should come on Mondays more often...he was definitely attractive. Telling him about the problem ended up being an excellent chance to flirt and it just happened without any effort! It has to be the same feeling an figure skater feels when she lands a triple toe-loop that she has been failing for awhile! To girls have mo-jo? Well, I got it back anyway!
My back pain became a pest and I thought I have to do something about these lower back muscles, but none of the exercise machines conveniently highlighted those muscles in picture form for me. The gym soundtrack includes some plugs to ask trainers for help with learning machines, and this was the perfect opportunity to take them on their offer. I headed to the main desk, but the guy there was talking to some other people and another trainer walked by without asking me if he could help, but then with perfect timing came my celery munching trainer. He spoke first, asking about the rest of my workout, so it was a smooth transition into my question and then into a brief demonstration.
I think I need to continue to go to the gym in Uptown, because the male trainers there are very attractive and there is something about talking about the position of your butt when doing a squat with a man that is quite entertaining to do in public! We talked about the benefits of personal training and the possibility of a special going on now, when his also attractive supervisor came over to give him a new client. This guy was flirtalicious from the start! He just had to engage me, shake my hand and ask my name. His eye contact was addictive. I quite happily allowed myself to be passed off to him to chat about personal training specials.
This dear man really demonstrated supreme patience with me as I hemmed and hawed over the financial cost of this service I have really wanted. To set the record straight, I was not procrastinating just to spend more time with him. In fact, he kept interrupting my serious pondering to show me his iPad or his new Sprint phone that has a kickstand! I couldn't help but laugh at his cute puppy-ness as he played with his new toys. He slowly slipped into an informal manner as we chatted and I got playfully flirty myself! My eyes were sparkling with what must have been real bits of sapphires, and my smile was stretching my face out...he was thoroughly engaging! As I signed up for personal training sessions I hoped I had not been conned by a pretty face, but then again maybe it was worth it to be able to flirt once more.
My flirting for the day was not over, however! Immediately after I left, I entered Kitchen Window to look at knives. A man came to my aide almost like magic, and when I asked if he would talk with me about knives, he humorously replied. We chatted for over an hour about knives and we chopped up some carrots together. Even though he seemed to be gay or not my usual type, I loved talking about his upcoming trip to Italy and mine to Europe. My attitude of openness allowed me to have three gorgeous interactions with men in very everyday situations. I am inspired to think that there really are men all around and if I just open up the definition of my type, I will easily meet more people and continue to enjoy myself! Here, here!
Before bed I glanced through a few of the dating advice books I had requested from the library. I decided I needed to see what supposed experts had to say, partly to help with my drinking for one experiment and partly because I am actually interested in being a better dater, making fewer mistakes. Some things made my ears perk but my attention flitted away to another book that put me to sleep. I knew I wanted to write about the dating ideas I had read about, but last night I was lacking passion.
Today, when I woke up, I had a totally different attitude. I was surprised to find out that I believed the positive messages from my friend! Before heading to the gym a day later than planned, I decided I wanted to put a little extra effort into my appearance and try one piece of dating advice on for size. The only tidbit that stood out for me from my one glance through the book was the idea that I could meet a man anywhere, anytime and not just in a bar on Friday night. I resolved to look at people around me more, as I kicked myself for forgetting that it is nice to engage with strangers instead of walking past without a thought.
My contacts were a must for a day like this, since I wanted to see all the men even in my periphery. I even brushed my eyebrows into a probably indiscernible different alignment. And then I exited the house in my favorite brown boots to find the makeup I left in the car. I am shocked to hear myself say this, but putting on just the smallest amount of makeup, can really make a girl feel more beautiful and happy with herself! In the car, at red lights, I brushed on some mascara, smacked my girly pink lipstick, and applies a little cover-up.
I strutted into the gym feeling like I got my sexiness back. I swear I caused a small extra pause in a conversation between three men as I walked by and flashed a small smile. I wanted to laugh out loud, but did not want to seem crazy. I soon was in a groovy rhythm on the elliptical machine, still thinking I was looking pretty great with my ponytail swinging. (I am a hot babe out jogging...making sure this stays a 10!) I kept my eyes open and felt this attitude fit me well.
I finished my workout with some back/biceps work but kept it light to go easy on my sore back. One of the assisted chin/dip machines was messed up, so I told the nearest trainer, who was eating a very healthy snack of celery and peanut butter. I had not seen him here before, maybe I should come on Mondays more often...he was definitely attractive. Telling him about the problem ended up being an excellent chance to flirt and it just happened without any effort! It has to be the same feeling an figure skater feels when she lands a triple toe-loop that she has been failing for awhile! To girls have mo-jo? Well, I got it back anyway!
My back pain became a pest and I thought I have to do something about these lower back muscles, but none of the exercise machines conveniently highlighted those muscles in picture form for me. The gym soundtrack includes some plugs to ask trainers for help with learning machines, and this was the perfect opportunity to take them on their offer. I headed to the main desk, but the guy there was talking to some other people and another trainer walked by without asking me if he could help, but then with perfect timing came my celery munching trainer. He spoke first, asking about the rest of my workout, so it was a smooth transition into my question and then into a brief demonstration.
I think I need to continue to go to the gym in Uptown, because the male trainers there are very attractive and there is something about talking about the position of your butt when doing a squat with a man that is quite entertaining to do in public! We talked about the benefits of personal training and the possibility of a special going on now, when his also attractive supervisor came over to give him a new client. This guy was flirtalicious from the start! He just had to engage me, shake my hand and ask my name. His eye contact was addictive. I quite happily allowed myself to be passed off to him to chat about personal training specials.
This dear man really demonstrated supreme patience with me as I hemmed and hawed over the financial cost of this service I have really wanted. To set the record straight, I was not procrastinating just to spend more time with him. In fact, he kept interrupting my serious pondering to show me his iPad or his new Sprint phone that has a kickstand! I couldn't help but laugh at his cute puppy-ness as he played with his new toys. He slowly slipped into an informal manner as we chatted and I got playfully flirty myself! My eyes were sparkling with what must have been real bits of sapphires, and my smile was stretching my face out...he was thoroughly engaging! As I signed up for personal training sessions I hoped I had not been conned by a pretty face, but then again maybe it was worth it to be able to flirt once more.
My flirting for the day was not over, however! Immediately after I left, I entered Kitchen Window to look at knives. A man came to my aide almost like magic, and when I asked if he would talk with me about knives, he humorously replied. We chatted for over an hour about knives and we chopped up some carrots together. Even though he seemed to be gay or not my usual type, I loved talking about his upcoming trip to Italy and mine to Europe. My attitude of openness allowed me to have three gorgeous interactions with men in very everyday situations. I am inspired to think that there really are men all around and if I just open up the definition of my type, I will easily meet more people and continue to enjoy myself! Here, here!
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Nakedness at Night
Do you ever look at your naked body when you are changing clothes or taking a shower and wonder how you ever thought it was sexy or beautiful? Not that anything has changed, but after being single and chaste for a time, your body does not seem like anything that has done any of what you know it has.
I think many people could agree my body is quite nice, as far as bodies go, but lately I have looked at it in confusion. It is as if I picked up a much loved book and could no longer make out the words. I cannot see sexy when I look at my curvy parts or touch my skin. I am not ashamed to admit that I look at myself naked in the mirror and wonder what anyone could see in my backside.
When I was in Spain and able to swim topless, it was both pleasant and way too matter-of-fact to hear my two male companions talk about my breasts. It had taken me a bit more courage than I had thought would be necessary to strip off my top and actually take the plunge into this European custom. As soon as my top was off and I proceeded to swim out to a buoy with my friend's friend who I had met two days before, he felt it was ok to tell me how nice they were. I almost thought he said something else. Back on the beach my friend himself greeted me with, "they are bigger than they look under your shirt" and I again was taken aback. There was something nice about the openness and bluntness, but thinking back, it seems as if they deconstructed me...and surgically removed the sexiness from my body somewhere in that conversation. Maybe the mystery disappeared because I bared it all!?
Today I was thinking about a friend of mine who has not been romantically involved with anyone for a number of years...and I couldn't help but wonder if, as time goes on, one's mind and body get too comfortable not being sexual that the desire for intimacy fades away. Right now for me, that desire is very faint...and I hope it has not fallen out of reach.
I think many people could agree my body is quite nice, as far as bodies go, but lately I have looked at it in confusion. It is as if I picked up a much loved book and could no longer make out the words. I cannot see sexy when I look at my curvy parts or touch my skin. I am not ashamed to admit that I look at myself naked in the mirror and wonder what anyone could see in my backside.
When I was in Spain and able to swim topless, it was both pleasant and way too matter-of-fact to hear my two male companions talk about my breasts. It had taken me a bit more courage than I had thought would be necessary to strip off my top and actually take the plunge into this European custom. As soon as my top was off and I proceeded to swim out to a buoy with my friend's friend who I had met two days before, he felt it was ok to tell me how nice they were. I almost thought he said something else. Back on the beach my friend himself greeted me with, "they are bigger than they look under your shirt" and I again was taken aback. There was something nice about the openness and bluntness, but thinking back, it seems as if they deconstructed me...and surgically removed the sexiness from my body somewhere in that conversation. Maybe the mystery disappeared because I bared it all!?
Today I was thinking about a friend of mine who has not been romantically involved with anyone for a number of years...and I couldn't help but wonder if, as time goes on, one's mind and body get too comfortable not being sexual that the desire for intimacy fades away. Right now for me, that desire is very faint...and I hope it has not fallen out of reach.
Reflections for a Birthday and Beyond
Yesterday, I turned 27...what an interesting number. I do not feel sad or scared that I am getting older; in fact, being 27 feels sort of like trying on a new piece of clothing! I like the feel so far, and I am glad I bought it. Without the feeling of doom that some people seem to express when they are single on their birthdays, I feel slightly abnormal. I have no grand delusions that there is no hope for me to find happiness or anything in the future. There is no chance I would want to do things any differently, but that does not mean I cannot reflect somewhat on where I am.
As a teenager, I thought I could declare an age when I would get married and another for starting a family. It seemed to easy to be an adult to me as a naive awkward high-schooler. I guess we adults somehow pull off looking like we have it all figured it out, or maybe I was even more gullible back then! I cannot fathom how people just have mid-life crises, when my life seems like a constant stream of internal crises. They have not stopped since puberty! I am always unsure and flailing. Perhaps I am just weird, the goose among all the duck ducks, but I strongly doubt it. My friends all are struggling in their own way, the married ones, the dating ones, the single ones. Everyone is living their own struggle and we all believe the grass is greener somewhere else.
Last night, talking with one of my best friends about her life, I saw how she was caught up in her own feelings about her situation that she could not accurately see how the others involved were feeling. Oh how I know THAT feeling! Overwhelming feelings trump any rationality we may possess, leaving us blinded to everything but how we feel. As I tried to help her see through her frustration and hurt, I whispered to myself to keep my feelings in perspective, to be on the lookout for vicious circles.
I do wish I were in a relationship now though, and have started to wonder if I am not doing enough to meet someone. I will work 50 hours this week once Saturday is over, not including the 5 hours of travel time. Work will tire me out, so I will stay in my tent haven and watched Korean dramas more than I would like. I will wear jeans and a T-shirt most days, with mascara for the only make-up. Where is my effort and interest in other people? What am I doing to meet new people for friendship or more? How do I put myself back in the ring for another round?
My horoscope for this month based on Astrology Zone, says that November will the best month of 2010 for me, and that it brings a rare alignment of planets that will bring me brilliant romantic prospects, beauty changes and new business contracts. That almost seems like pressure for me to have an amazing next few weeks! Maybe it predicts my move to a mouse-free home and maybe some man will come into my life? But I feel something has to happen soon.
I have made a lot of changes lately, hoping to take better care of myself. I am going to the gym three times a week, I have finally managed to start brushing my teeth twice a day and flossing once! I am eating better, cooking more, finding new ways to eat vegetables and grains. I bought two new cookbooks and cannot wait for my new kitchen to try them out. I am still struggling to drink more water every day, but I need to have a goal, right? Also, I am getting out more, wearing contacts and mascara to look a little more attractive...but I do think I need to kick up the gear on that score still.
Over the next few days, I want to figure out what I really want and begin to take steps to find it. I am hopeful that I can enjoy this journey and take many photos to remember all that fun I am going to have!
As a teenager, I thought I could declare an age when I would get married and another for starting a family. It seemed to easy to be an adult to me as a naive awkward high-schooler. I guess we adults somehow pull off looking like we have it all figured it out, or maybe I was even more gullible back then! I cannot fathom how people just have mid-life crises, when my life seems like a constant stream of internal crises. They have not stopped since puberty! I am always unsure and flailing. Perhaps I am just weird, the goose among all the duck ducks, but I strongly doubt it. My friends all are struggling in their own way, the married ones, the dating ones, the single ones. Everyone is living their own struggle and we all believe the grass is greener somewhere else.
Last night, talking with one of my best friends about her life, I saw how she was caught up in her own feelings about her situation that she could not accurately see how the others involved were feeling. Oh how I know THAT feeling! Overwhelming feelings trump any rationality we may possess, leaving us blinded to everything but how we feel. As I tried to help her see through her frustration and hurt, I whispered to myself to keep my feelings in perspective, to be on the lookout for vicious circles.
I do wish I were in a relationship now though, and have started to wonder if I am not doing enough to meet someone. I will work 50 hours this week once Saturday is over, not including the 5 hours of travel time. Work will tire me out, so I will stay in my tent haven and watched Korean dramas more than I would like. I will wear jeans and a T-shirt most days, with mascara for the only make-up. Where is my effort and interest in other people? What am I doing to meet new people for friendship or more? How do I put myself back in the ring for another round?
My horoscope for this month based on Astrology Zone, says that November will the best month of 2010 for me, and that it brings a rare alignment of planets that will bring me brilliant romantic prospects, beauty changes and new business contracts. That almost seems like pressure for me to have an amazing next few weeks! Maybe it predicts my move to a mouse-free home and maybe some man will come into my life? But I feel something has to happen soon.
I have made a lot of changes lately, hoping to take better care of myself. I am going to the gym three times a week, I have finally managed to start brushing my teeth twice a day and flossing once! I am eating better, cooking more, finding new ways to eat vegetables and grains. I bought two new cookbooks and cannot wait for my new kitchen to try them out. I am still struggling to drink more water every day, but I need to have a goal, right? Also, I am getting out more, wearing contacts and mascara to look a little more attractive...but I do think I need to kick up the gear on that score still.
Over the next few days, I want to figure out what I really want and begin to take steps to find it. I am hopeful that I can enjoy this journey and take many photos to remember all that fun I am going to have!
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Halloween Weekend's Friday at Cowboy Slim's
I decided I needed to go out again alone, even though I was going out for Halloween the night after. The weather was wonderful and the mice problem at my house was giving me anxiety issues. The hardest part about going out alone is trying to figure out where to go. There are so many different types of places with many different variables to weigh before a decision can be made. I always consider going to a favorite place and sitting alone with a glass of wine, looking nice, but not Uptown nice, before I remember that my favorite places tend to be frequented by a much older or all female crowd. That would not do. All of a sudden, I thought about Cowboy Slim's in Uptown! I have heard about it only, and what I had heard was that it was not classy, not high-end and not very Uptownesque (for being in Uptown). It sounded perfect to me.
Next point to decide, was outfit! I could dress in my Halloween costume, but it was two days before Halloween and that seemed silly, especially going to a country-themed bar seeing as my costume mainly consisted of a man's suit. I had to wear something denim. I also wanted to wear my awesome new brown boots (found at a consignment shop, thank you very much!). My denim skirt would be perfect, but I would need to wear nylons as well, for the minute amount of warmth they provide. My mom recently got some nylons for me at some discounted price...where did I put them? Oh here they are....what they are NAVY!? Navy is not black, but oh well...no one will notice anyway.
After wiggling into my nylons, pulling up the skirt and zipping up my boots, I wondered what top would be best to wear with this...well I should have something else brown...so I pulled a mid-length sleeved brown t-shirt on, and then added my green zipper shirt that I bought in Berlin...I heard somewhere that anything with zippers is hot right now, but I liked it a lot anyway. I did my make-up, making my lips much redder this time because I could, and grabbed my Crown Royal purse.
I had wanted to try to get to the bar late so I could be unbuzzed while all the hot men I hoped to find were already a little buzzed and more likely to hit on me, but I was dead tired. I hate working ten hours on a Friday and then having to work at 9:45 am on Saturday! This work life is cramping my style! So I left my house about 9:15 pm. I found a meter right in front of Heartbreakers that needed only a quarter to get me through until it was no longer enforced...and as I started for Cowboy Slim's I realized Heartbreakers was STILL open...I had to stop in and look for that dress I saw a few weeks ago.
Summer dresses were all clearanced which was perfect, but they were all out of smalls of the dress I wanted. I tried on a medium but found a better style that was cheaper anyway...then I couldn't help myself I also bought a new page-boy hat, a gray one, that would be perfect as it got colder and some $1 lip gloss for tonight. With my purchases stowed in my car and my lips much glossier, I entered Cowboy Slim's.
It is not an attractive bar, but I couldn't tell you why I think so. I looked around and then ordered a drink at the bar. I could believe how inattentive the bartenders were. I ordered the worst gin and tonic I ever had and say down away from everyone to watch people. I watched the bar fill up as I wrote notes. It was quite perfect that I had picked a table right next to the path to the bathrooms, because I got to see all these people up close.
Soon enough the bar was full of people dressed up in a bizarre array of costumes. The tables became a hot commodity and all the extra stools from my table were borrowed by others. Then suddenly I looked up from writing a note about how fake some women looked dressed up to find my table surrounded by Brazilians (three men and one woman. This group of four had decided to sidle up to my table for their own use, and acted as if I was an added bonus for their entertainment. One man began to tell me all about them and ask me all about myself. He told me about their Brazilian roots. He was not attractive.
I had been thinking all night that I must look like an ice queen shooting lasers from her eyes. That would explain all the empty space around me. As soon as this group joined me, I became the way too nice person who talks to everyone, even if I have no desire. I answered the questions less coyly then I like now, and I let him touch me in too friendly a manner! He asked me if I were single, and acted surprised when I said yes. But then he basically warned me away from himself as a bad person to date. How confusing!
I did end up enjoying myself with him and his friend after the others left. This other guy was so outgoing and friendly. He told almost every pretty woman how good she looked and went over to a guy with a head brace screwed into his skull to buy him a drink because he was brave to come out like that. He was a fascinating person and could make me laugh so easily. His friend was not as entertaining. After a horrible T and T (what is wrong with their tonic?!) I was interested in hanging out with them again just for the friend, so when the first guy asked for my phone number I gave it to him...it seemed as if he thought I was hot, but also liked me as a person...so why not?
I left soon after that though because I did not want to drink any more drinks at this place. I left wondering if I had just gotten picked up. Did I accomplish my goal? I have since decided that that did not happen...the guy did not call me and it has been a week. It was close, but not quite a cigar.
Next point to decide, was outfit! I could dress in my Halloween costume, but it was two days before Halloween and that seemed silly, especially going to a country-themed bar seeing as my costume mainly consisted of a man's suit. I had to wear something denim. I also wanted to wear my awesome new brown boots (found at a consignment shop, thank you very much!). My denim skirt would be perfect, but I would need to wear nylons as well, for the minute amount of warmth they provide. My mom recently got some nylons for me at some discounted price...where did I put them? Oh here they are....what they are NAVY!? Navy is not black, but oh well...no one will notice anyway.
After wiggling into my nylons, pulling up the skirt and zipping up my boots, I wondered what top would be best to wear with this...well I should have something else brown...so I pulled a mid-length sleeved brown t-shirt on, and then added my green zipper shirt that I bought in Berlin...I heard somewhere that anything with zippers is hot right now, but I liked it a lot anyway. I did my make-up, making my lips much redder this time because I could, and grabbed my Crown Royal purse.
I had wanted to try to get to the bar late so I could be unbuzzed while all the hot men I hoped to find were already a little buzzed and more likely to hit on me, but I was dead tired. I hate working ten hours on a Friday and then having to work at 9:45 am on Saturday! This work life is cramping my style! So I left my house about 9:15 pm. I found a meter right in front of Heartbreakers that needed only a quarter to get me through until it was no longer enforced...and as I started for Cowboy Slim's I realized Heartbreakers was STILL open...I had to stop in and look for that dress I saw a few weeks ago.
Summer dresses were all clearanced which was perfect, but they were all out of smalls of the dress I wanted. I tried on a medium but found a better style that was cheaper anyway...then I couldn't help myself I also bought a new page-boy hat, a gray one, that would be perfect as it got colder and some $1 lip gloss for tonight. With my purchases stowed in my car and my lips much glossier, I entered Cowboy Slim's.
It is not an attractive bar, but I couldn't tell you why I think so. I looked around and then ordered a drink at the bar. I could believe how inattentive the bartenders were. I ordered the worst gin and tonic I ever had and say down away from everyone to watch people. I watched the bar fill up as I wrote notes. It was quite perfect that I had picked a table right next to the path to the bathrooms, because I got to see all these people up close.
Soon enough the bar was full of people dressed up in a bizarre array of costumes. The tables became a hot commodity and all the extra stools from my table were borrowed by others. Then suddenly I looked up from writing a note about how fake some women looked dressed up to find my table surrounded by Brazilians (three men and one woman. This group of four had decided to sidle up to my table for their own use, and acted as if I was an added bonus for their entertainment. One man began to tell me all about them and ask me all about myself. He told me about their Brazilian roots. He was not attractive.
I had been thinking all night that I must look like an ice queen shooting lasers from her eyes. That would explain all the empty space around me. As soon as this group joined me, I became the way too nice person who talks to everyone, even if I have no desire. I answered the questions less coyly then I like now, and I let him touch me in too friendly a manner! He asked me if I were single, and acted surprised when I said yes. But then he basically warned me away from himself as a bad person to date. How confusing!
I did end up enjoying myself with him and his friend after the others left. This other guy was so outgoing and friendly. He told almost every pretty woman how good she looked and went over to a guy with a head brace screwed into his skull to buy him a drink because he was brave to come out like that. He was a fascinating person and could make me laugh so easily. His friend was not as entertaining. After a horrible T and T (what is wrong with their tonic?!) I was interested in hanging out with them again just for the friend, so when the first guy asked for my phone number I gave it to him...it seemed as if he thought I was hot, but also liked me as a person...so why not?
I left soon after that though because I did not want to drink any more drinks at this place. I left wondering if I had just gotten picked up. Did I accomplish my goal? I have since decided that that did not happen...the guy did not call me and it has been a week. It was close, but not quite a cigar.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Contemplating in a Cuddler in Blaine
I am house-sitting and dog-sitting in a northerly suburb of the Twin Cities for the weekend. To accurately describe the scene: I am currently splayed in the cuddler, a cross between a recliner and a love seat, only I cannot figure out how this one un-reclines. I have been instructed to watch a Blu-Ray movie for sure, for sure, because it is like the people are right here with me. I have selected the new Sherlock Holmes in order to best see what action shots look like when they are so vivid.
Being here, in the home of my two dear friends, with their dog and their stuff, I feel once again like I have been banished from reality but forced to observe it from behind an invisible barrier as some torture or punishment for who knows what crime. There is something intangible about the life that is led in this house, which I cannot obtain. On the shelf here in the living room, is the evidence of two lives meshed together; I can clearly tell her DVDs from his, see where they overlapped, and I wonder why they have three copies of 50 First Dates. The clear his and hers toiletries in the shower, proving women really do use more products than men, make me realize how pleasant such simple things like that may be.
The dog is now barking outside, maybe it has started to rain. This massive German Shepard is scared of the rain, I better get him...no he was barking at a greyhound on a walk. He jumped up here in the cuddler with me for a second and his licks and pawing made me recall having my own boyfriend tickling and touching me. I do not miss having a boyfriend too much, but what I miss is liking someone that much. When I love and admire someone, it is a great feeling...and it is happiness. I do not crave someone's touch, (taking care of two 14-month-old twins and a 77-pound 5-year-old provides enough physical contact), nor do I need someone to share holidays and birthdays with (Dr. Joy Browne informed me as I woke up to a foreign alarm that being able to be alone for special occasions helps prevent you from developing a co-dependent relationship).
Whenever I am not involved with someone, the thing I miss the most is simply that I miss being impressed by someone else, I miss finding someone interesting enough to make me want to stare at him, study him, play with him. Did you know that scientists have determined that the length of time babies stare at objects corresponds with how new and interesting the item is to them, that when they are bored they barely look at the object in front of them? I feel a similar draw to the men I date; I want to keep being around them because they continue to interest me and excite me, but my problem however, is that there are very, very few men that make me want to continue to stare long enough to catch their eye. I wish men could be more impressive at first glance.
Watching Sherlock Holmes right now, makes me think about men's behavior. Holmes has been doing a lot of fighting in these first 20 minutes of the movie and it may demonstrate is strength and keen reading of his opponents weak spots, but it does not impress me. Using his brain to figure out how to hurt someone and win the fight is not admirable. Yesterday, I was thinking about sports as well. Playing one on one basketball seems to be a very stereotypical manly thing to do. Maybe it really is fun or good exercise, but too me it is still very clearly a fight, a mock battle. There is nothing impressive to me about men putting orange balls through woven rope, hitting tinnier ones with bats and clubs or 22 men pushing and throwing and kicking to get a weird shaped skin covered ball to a certain line on a field (their tight pants are not even attractive, no matter how often it is talked about!). I do not like sports because I think the men are awesome and hot and super successful human beings! I watch football to exercise my own brain and follow an interesting game and to be involved in an interesting social event.
What activity will show me a guy is impressive? Let me think about what drew me to my various ex-boyfriends...one impressed me through his insightful ideas during a conversation I overheard, one impressed me through his sweet nature and his ability to perceive what was important to me and meet me in those activities, one impressed me with his ability to see me as a whole person and a goddess of perfection when I was just myself. Another man, who I did not date, impressed me with his passion, and his seeming ability to act on what he wanted without pretense or hesitation. But we did not date for a reason unknown for the moment...but what I see impressed me is most definitely the inner spirit of a man and not the outer manifestations of his accomplishments. My eye sees beyond the material...beyond the fabricated fascade we all project...to the core self that most people do not nurture. I am content to wait for a man who knows what is truly important about himself.
Being here, in the home of my two dear friends, with their dog and their stuff, I feel once again like I have been banished from reality but forced to observe it from behind an invisible barrier as some torture or punishment for who knows what crime. There is something intangible about the life that is led in this house, which I cannot obtain. On the shelf here in the living room, is the evidence of two lives meshed together; I can clearly tell her DVDs from his, see where they overlapped, and I wonder why they have three copies of 50 First Dates. The clear his and hers toiletries in the shower, proving women really do use more products than men, make me realize how pleasant such simple things like that may be.
The dog is now barking outside, maybe it has started to rain. This massive German Shepard is scared of the rain, I better get him...no he was barking at a greyhound on a walk. He jumped up here in the cuddler with me for a second and his licks and pawing made me recall having my own boyfriend tickling and touching me. I do not miss having a boyfriend too much, but what I miss is liking someone that much. When I love and admire someone, it is a great feeling...and it is happiness. I do not crave someone's touch, (taking care of two 14-month-old twins and a 77-pound 5-year-old provides enough physical contact), nor do I need someone to share holidays and birthdays with (Dr. Joy Browne informed me as I woke up to a foreign alarm that being able to be alone for special occasions helps prevent you from developing a co-dependent relationship).
Whenever I am not involved with someone, the thing I miss the most is simply that I miss being impressed by someone else, I miss finding someone interesting enough to make me want to stare at him, study him, play with him. Did you know that scientists have determined that the length of time babies stare at objects corresponds with how new and interesting the item is to them, that when they are bored they barely look at the object in front of them? I feel a similar draw to the men I date; I want to keep being around them because they continue to interest me and excite me, but my problem however, is that there are very, very few men that make me want to continue to stare long enough to catch their eye. I wish men could be more impressive at first glance.
Watching Sherlock Holmes right now, makes me think about men's behavior. Holmes has been doing a lot of fighting in these first 20 minutes of the movie and it may demonstrate is strength and keen reading of his opponents weak spots, but it does not impress me. Using his brain to figure out how to hurt someone and win the fight is not admirable. Yesterday, I was thinking about sports as well. Playing one on one basketball seems to be a very stereotypical manly thing to do. Maybe it really is fun or good exercise, but too me it is still very clearly a fight, a mock battle. There is nothing impressive to me about men putting orange balls through woven rope, hitting tinnier ones with bats and clubs or 22 men pushing and throwing and kicking to get a weird shaped skin covered ball to a certain line on a field (their tight pants are not even attractive, no matter how often it is talked about!). I do not like sports because I think the men are awesome and hot and super successful human beings! I watch football to exercise my own brain and follow an interesting game and to be involved in an interesting social event.
What activity will show me a guy is impressive? Let me think about what drew me to my various ex-boyfriends...one impressed me through his insightful ideas during a conversation I overheard, one impressed me through his sweet nature and his ability to perceive what was important to me and meet me in those activities, one impressed me with his ability to see me as a whole person and a goddess of perfection when I was just myself. Another man, who I did not date, impressed me with his passion, and his seeming ability to act on what he wanted without pretense or hesitation. But we did not date for a reason unknown for the moment...but what I see impressed me is most definitely the inner spirit of a man and not the outer manifestations of his accomplishments. My eye sees beyond the material...beyond the fabricated fascade we all project...to the core self that most people do not nurture. I am content to wait for a man who knows what is truly important about himself.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Forgetting something at an ex's house
Recently, I was visiting an ex-boyfriend with whom I am still close friends. I spent a few hours there before I had to leave. It was lovely to see him again and to catch up. The day after I visited him, he called me up to tell me I forgot something. When he told me I left the renewal stickers for my license plates, I realized how funny it is that I left something so benign and boring.
I did not leave anything vital or scandalous. There was no dramatic story about me visiting an ex and leaving something that got me into trouble with a new girlfriend or that would make him think I did it on purpose. I have no intention of pursuing him again or anything, but I had to ask myself why I cannot even make a visit to a hot ex-boyfriend into a good story even by stretching the truth. How sad!
I did not leave anything vital or scandalous. There was no dramatic story about me visiting an ex and leaving something that got me into trouble with a new girlfriend or that would make him think I did it on purpose. I have no intention of pursuing him again or anything, but I had to ask myself why I cannot even make a visit to a hot ex-boyfriend into a good story even by stretching the truth. How sad!
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Dating in Korean Dramas
Lately, all I want to watch is Korean dramas on Hulu; I simply cannot get enough of them! I have not yet figured out why I like them so much but they are definitely overly sappy at times, and everyone knows I am the biggest sap. They may be romantic dramas, or romantic comic-dramas (I do not know if it is supposed to be so funny), but they are always about love.
The common template is very strongly an opposites-attract Cinderella-story, and only slightly more subtle. There is always a man or boy who is way, way, way out of the female protagonist's league in some way. He may be the richest, the smartest, the highest rank, or even, as in one of my favorites, she may think he is gay. The girl in all these dramas is on the other end of extreme; she is the dry cleaner's daughter with the scholarship to the good school, the bottom-ranked student who is temporarily homeless, the lowest ranked chef in the kitchen, the overweight foul-mouthed patissier, or the unemployed furniture designer. Fate always brings these two complete opposites together in a colossal bang!
Unlike Cinderella, it is not love at first sight; it is inevitably conflict at first crash. You know how this story goes, Hollywood does it all the time too. The two would-be lovers always hate each other and fight all the time. I have never had this happen to me in real life, even with my opposites! This makes for great entertainment.
I am not interested in the cliche-ed plot lines, but in the cultural differences in dating habits that are portrayed in these shows. The social rules of etiquette are very different from ours in most circles it appears. Let me offer some examples.
* Being roommates with a man, as a single woman is frowned upon (unless he is gay)
* Many parents insist on approving of the match and often try to arrange marriages as good business sense
* One kiss typically means you are dating, but does not happen first all the time
* Hand holding is perceived as a very strong sign of interest
* Professing interest in someone seems very straightforward and commonplace: "hey, I like you"
* Giving chocolates on Valentine's day is a very strong sign you like someone and you only give it to one person
Dating can mean spending time together, but rarely kissing, holding hands and most likely never being alone in an apartment for very long. Everyone around the couple seem to be sensitive to shows of affection. I find it almost like how I think of adolescent dating (the good adolescents, not the beer-swigging party animals that have sex really young)...it is sweet, and cute and almost without sexual tension. The kiss becomes the focus, not getting into anyone's pants!
I do not know if I would like dating to be that way or the way it is for me here in Minnesota. I can decide later, and get back to watching my latest Korean drama!
The common template is very strongly an opposites-attract Cinderella-story, and only slightly more subtle. There is always a man or boy who is way, way, way out of the female protagonist's league in some way. He may be the richest, the smartest, the highest rank, or even, as in one of my favorites, she may think he is gay. The girl in all these dramas is on the other end of extreme; she is the dry cleaner's daughter with the scholarship to the good school, the bottom-ranked student who is temporarily homeless, the lowest ranked chef in the kitchen, the overweight foul-mouthed patissier, or the unemployed furniture designer. Fate always brings these two complete opposites together in a colossal bang!
Unlike Cinderella, it is not love at first sight; it is inevitably conflict at first crash. You know how this story goes, Hollywood does it all the time too. The two would-be lovers always hate each other and fight all the time. I have never had this happen to me in real life, even with my opposites! This makes for great entertainment.
I am not interested in the cliche-ed plot lines, but in the cultural differences in dating habits that are portrayed in these shows. The social rules of etiquette are very different from ours in most circles it appears. Let me offer some examples.
* Being roommates with a man, as a single woman is frowned upon (unless he is gay)
* Many parents insist on approving of the match and often try to arrange marriages as good business sense
* One kiss typically means you are dating, but does not happen first all the time
* Hand holding is perceived as a very strong sign of interest
* Professing interest in someone seems very straightforward and commonplace: "hey, I like you"
* Giving chocolates on Valentine's day is a very strong sign you like someone and you only give it to one person
Dating can mean spending time together, but rarely kissing, holding hands and most likely never being alone in an apartment for very long. Everyone around the couple seem to be sensitive to shows of affection. I find it almost like how I think of adolescent dating (the good adolescents, not the beer-swigging party animals that have sex really young)...it is sweet, and cute and almost without sexual tension. The kiss becomes the focus, not getting into anyone's pants!
I do not know if I would like dating to be that way or the way it is for me here in Minnesota. I can decide later, and get back to watching my latest Korean drama!
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Looking hot at LA Fitness
A few weeks ago, I joined a gym. I am still surprised at this, because the idea of a gym has typically made me sick. All these sweaty people running in place right next to each other, but not seeming to notice they weren't alone; all those muscles bulging and straining, trying to help their owner look sexier or ripped -EEEW! But now, three times a week, I am one of those sweaty people working to look ripped myself.
A few of my excuses for joining a gym are as follows:
1) I had so much fun swimming in the Mediterranean that I want to swim more regularly,
2) Working out will improve my mood during the winter months,
3) A nice getaway from a mouse-invested house,
4) If I pay for it, I will actually take the time to go and work out, which is something I want to do,
5) I want to try yoga classes, and
6) I want to challenge myself to build up my muscles and flexibility to be even better than I am!
(Hey, those are great reasons! Maybe I should not call them excuses.)
Thankfully, meeting men was not one of my reasons for joining, but the idea did cross my mind as I considered the idea. It is SO cliche to TRY to meet a man at the gym, and so, of course, I wanted to give it a whirl. Before my first visit, I daydreamed about looking super cute in tight pants and a sports bra (which likely would cause some nipping) as I lifted weights and impressed the men (who in my dream, were all super hot, but not too ripped as to seem obscene!). This is not likely going to happen.
My first session involved a free hour with a personal trainer who helped me focus my goals and better plan for my time at the gym in the future. He took me through a workout, focusing on my chest, shoulders and triceps, because I wanted more upper body strength primarily. I almost died! He did not go easy on me because I was a girl, or a gym-newbie. He had me working so hard I could not really finish my third set on every machine. And for rest between sets, he had me doing push-ups, arm-circles, weight-lifting and some shoulder hold thingy! That is not rest! When we were done, my arms felt numb.
My lovely trainer then said, "Ok, now do push-ups until you cannot any more." My jaw almost dropped, it did metaphorically for sure. At first I thought he must be joking or punishing me for some mistake I made. I had to reassure myself that I was not in boot camp or a reality TV show. I complied, thinking fine, I will show him how awesome I am at push-ups! Again, that did not go as planned. I could barely go down to the ground at all, and then could not come up either. I gave up at 7, knowing none of them looked good, only pathetic. My trainer was fine with that. "If you had been able to do a lot of push-ups, than it would not have been a successful workout," he explained.
My dream of looking hot at the gym would only be a reality if I were using the word to describe the physical temperature of my body. N one looks sexy when they are breathing hard and struggling to complete three sets of 40 arm circles. I was very glad there were no mirrors around where I could see my face as I hurt my muscles just enough to inspire them to get stronger. I am glad that I did not join the gym to meet men. Wow, what a stupid idea!
A few of my excuses for joining a gym are as follows:
1) I had so much fun swimming in the Mediterranean that I want to swim more regularly,
2) Working out will improve my mood during the winter months,
3) A nice getaway from a mouse-invested house,
4) If I pay for it, I will actually take the time to go and work out, which is something I want to do,
5) I want to try yoga classes, and
6) I want to challenge myself to build up my muscles and flexibility to be even better than I am!
(Hey, those are great reasons! Maybe I should not call them excuses.)
Thankfully, meeting men was not one of my reasons for joining, but the idea did cross my mind as I considered the idea. It is SO cliche to TRY to meet a man at the gym, and so, of course, I wanted to give it a whirl. Before my first visit, I daydreamed about looking super cute in tight pants and a sports bra (which likely would cause some nipping) as I lifted weights and impressed the men (who in my dream, were all super hot, but not too ripped as to seem obscene!). This is not likely going to happen.
My first session involved a free hour with a personal trainer who helped me focus my goals and better plan for my time at the gym in the future. He took me through a workout, focusing on my chest, shoulders and triceps, because I wanted more upper body strength primarily. I almost died! He did not go easy on me because I was a girl, or a gym-newbie. He had me working so hard I could not really finish my third set on every machine. And for rest between sets, he had me doing push-ups, arm-circles, weight-lifting and some shoulder hold thingy! That is not rest! When we were done, my arms felt numb.
My lovely trainer then said, "Ok, now do push-ups until you cannot any more." My jaw almost dropped, it did metaphorically for sure. At first I thought he must be joking or punishing me for some mistake I made. I had to reassure myself that I was not in boot camp or a reality TV show. I complied, thinking fine, I will show him how awesome I am at push-ups! Again, that did not go as planned. I could barely go down to the ground at all, and then could not come up either. I gave up at 7, knowing none of them looked good, only pathetic. My trainer was fine with that. "If you had been able to do a lot of push-ups, than it would not have been a successful workout," he explained.
My dream of looking hot at the gym would only be a reality if I were using the word to describe the physical temperature of my body. N one looks sexy when they are breathing hard and struggling to complete three sets of 40 arm circles. I was very glad there were no mirrors around where I could see my face as I hurt my muscles just enough to inspire them to get stronger. I am glad that I did not join the gym to meet men. Wow, what a stupid idea!
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Friday night at The Independent, independently
The first week of October felt more like the end of August, and I had to go out dressed for warm weather one last time. My sister had bought me a ruffled silver mini skirt and I had yet to wear it, so I tried on about 6 different tops to see which looked best. I ended up with the first one I tried, a modest, black tank top. My strappy black heels looked just right with this outfit. I let my hair fall loose around my face, softening my look, hoping to look more ladylike. Or if not ladylike, at least softer.
It was Friday night, but I was tired and had to work Saturday, so I went out somewhat early: about 9:30 pm. I thought my outfit seemed appropriate for Uptown, so I debated over Chino Latino or The Independent. I couldn't decide until I got there and walked to the corner of Hennepin and Lake. The patio of Chino Latino was full, and I knew I would be sitting at the bar if I went inside, but the bar there is not the best place to really watch people. So I went across and entered Calhoun Square. I wondered why I have not yet gone to The Independent, seeing as I have been going out in a show of independence.
I sat at the bar here too, partly because most tables were reserved and partly because that is where I wanted to sit. The bar has chairs with backs instead of stools, so it is very comfortable. I settled into a seat on the corner of the bar facing the entrance so I could see who came and went easily. I ordered a very girly-sounding drink, a Scarlett Margarita, and leaned back.
There was a TV with a baseball game playing; the Giants were up 4-0 over the Braves and it was the top of the fifth. I could not even pretend to enjoy watching that game, so I took out my new little notebook and started to look around me. There were mainly groups and couples around me. Everyone was in their own mini-world, including me; it seemed as if I were behind a two-way mirror (Why is it called a two-way mirror anyways? One way it is a mirror and another way it is a window; this just does not make sense.). I seemed invisible to the other people, except the bartenders saw me. The bartenders asked me how I was doing all the time, three of them kept taking turns, each thinking they were the only one who noticed me perhaps. Did they even realize they were working together?
Is it polite not to stare? I love watching people everywhere I go, and I loved to be looked at; when someone looks at you, you feel real, or at least really present with another human being. I am starting to believe it is more rude not to look at someone. The best part of being with a partner is being seen, staring into each others' eyes. Who cares if people think that is too sappy!? For me, the best thing about being a woman is being able to draw the attention of men...the men driving in cars as I take a walk, the men at the bars who see me drinking alone. Women do not look at men with the same intensity as men look at attractive women. I told someone how much I liked to be looked at by men, and my friend asked me if I were an exhibitionist, but that is not it at all. Being looked at feels good and I am just stating the obvious.
As I looked around, there were men who glanced at me. Men who were in groups, men who were at the bar alone, and even some of the men who were with a woman. None of them were very promising, but it was fun to watch them from behind the wall of sound that filled the bar. I saw another blonde woman sitting across from me at the bar, also alone. Maybe I was really on the mirror side of the two-way mirror? Two guys were sitting a seat away from her and I could see them eyeing her up. One leaned over to talk to her and, although I could not hear anything, she smiled for the first time since she got here, but made it clear she was waiting for someone. I thought she must be either waiting for a date or just pretending to wait for someone as an excuse to get away from the men. But soon, another woman joined her and they instantly created their own little private space that said there was only room for two.
Another twosome of women nearby also had this invisible bubble around them, but when one went to to use the bathroom, the shark-men latched on to the lone lady. When her friend returned and the bubble-power repelled the man and they laughed privately. Did they want the attention or not? Are we women sending mixed-messages men all the time like this? Why do we go to bars to drink, when it is often easier and cheaper to drink at home? Also, why do couples go out to bars together? Is a bar a good date location? I cannot see why?
Drinking is often considered a social lubricant, an aide to making conversation flow. I started to see the bar as a community of different people trying to have interactions with other people. The alcohol slowly started to make people social! As we all continued to imbibe and the bar began to fill up, forcing people to sit closer and closer to each other, the chance to interact with strangers became more and more likely. A group of four came to the bar and asked if I would mind scooting over so they could fit there too. I gladly obliged, but was disappointed that they appeared to be two couples. When they sat down however, the two girls sat down together with the two guys together as well (with the cute one next to me!) and their conversation seemed to be more friendly than "couple-ly."
The less cute one asked me if that was a Crown Royal bag, referring to my purse. I answered in the affirmative and a brief conversation ensued about purple and black bags, and what uses they have had for their Crown Royal bags. Oh how I love my choice of purse! Later on, the cute guy talked to me more and we talked about gyms and other random things. But then, I started to wonder why I was talking to him at all. Would I ever consider dating him? Not really, although I thought he was cute and could imagine sleeping with him. I stopped myself there.
I am not looking for men to sleep with, I am looking for a man who will be my partner in life. This felt good to realize. I know what I want now and I am acting more like the woman I want to be. I can go out and drink alone, have conversations with strangers, but I will still be confident and classy. Finding my partner is something worth waiting for; I will wait with patience and poise. Maybe this thought is what prompted me to leave, I was bored with this scene. Being home, watching a Zooey Deschanel movie, eating popcorn sounded more appealing. I got up, and drove home, content.
It was Friday night, but I was tired and had to work Saturday, so I went out somewhat early: about 9:30 pm. I thought my outfit seemed appropriate for Uptown, so I debated over Chino Latino or The Independent. I couldn't decide until I got there and walked to the corner of Hennepin and Lake. The patio of Chino Latino was full, and I knew I would be sitting at the bar if I went inside, but the bar there is not the best place to really watch people. So I went across and entered Calhoun Square. I wondered why I have not yet gone to The Independent, seeing as I have been going out in a show of independence.
I sat at the bar here too, partly because most tables were reserved and partly because that is where I wanted to sit. The bar has chairs with backs instead of stools, so it is very comfortable. I settled into a seat on the corner of the bar facing the entrance so I could see who came and went easily. I ordered a very girly-sounding drink, a Scarlett Margarita, and leaned back.
There was a TV with a baseball game playing; the Giants were up 4-0 over the Braves and it was the top of the fifth. I could not even pretend to enjoy watching that game, so I took out my new little notebook and started to look around me. There were mainly groups and couples around me. Everyone was in their own mini-world, including me; it seemed as if I were behind a two-way mirror (Why is it called a two-way mirror anyways? One way it is a mirror and another way it is a window; this just does not make sense.). I seemed invisible to the other people, except the bartenders saw me. The bartenders asked me how I was doing all the time, three of them kept taking turns, each thinking they were the only one who noticed me perhaps. Did they even realize they were working together?
Is it polite not to stare? I love watching people everywhere I go, and I loved to be looked at; when someone looks at you, you feel real, or at least really present with another human being. I am starting to believe it is more rude not to look at someone. The best part of being with a partner is being seen, staring into each others' eyes. Who cares if people think that is too sappy!? For me, the best thing about being a woman is being able to draw the attention of men...the men driving in cars as I take a walk, the men at the bars who see me drinking alone. Women do not look at men with the same intensity as men look at attractive women. I told someone how much I liked to be looked at by men, and my friend asked me if I were an exhibitionist, but that is not it at all. Being looked at feels good and I am just stating the obvious.
As I looked around, there were men who glanced at me. Men who were in groups, men who were at the bar alone, and even some of the men who were with a woman. None of them were very promising, but it was fun to watch them from behind the wall of sound that filled the bar. I saw another blonde woman sitting across from me at the bar, also alone. Maybe I was really on the mirror side of the two-way mirror? Two guys were sitting a seat away from her and I could see them eyeing her up. One leaned over to talk to her and, although I could not hear anything, she smiled for the first time since she got here, but made it clear she was waiting for someone. I thought she must be either waiting for a date or just pretending to wait for someone as an excuse to get away from the men. But soon, another woman joined her and they instantly created their own little private space that said there was only room for two.
Another twosome of women nearby also had this invisible bubble around them, but when one went to to use the bathroom, the shark-men latched on to the lone lady. When her friend returned and the bubble-power repelled the man and they laughed privately. Did they want the attention or not? Are we women sending mixed-messages men all the time like this? Why do we go to bars to drink, when it is often easier and cheaper to drink at home? Also, why do couples go out to bars together? Is a bar a good date location? I cannot see why?
Drinking is often considered a social lubricant, an aide to making conversation flow. I started to see the bar as a community of different people trying to have interactions with other people. The alcohol slowly started to make people social! As we all continued to imbibe and the bar began to fill up, forcing people to sit closer and closer to each other, the chance to interact with strangers became more and more likely. A group of four came to the bar and asked if I would mind scooting over so they could fit there too. I gladly obliged, but was disappointed that they appeared to be two couples. When they sat down however, the two girls sat down together with the two guys together as well (with the cute one next to me!) and their conversation seemed to be more friendly than "couple-ly."
The less cute one asked me if that was a Crown Royal bag, referring to my purse. I answered in the affirmative and a brief conversation ensued about purple and black bags, and what uses they have had for their Crown Royal bags. Oh how I love my choice of purse! Later on, the cute guy talked to me more and we talked about gyms and other random things. But then, I started to wonder why I was talking to him at all. Would I ever consider dating him? Not really, although I thought he was cute and could imagine sleeping with him. I stopped myself there.
I am not looking for men to sleep with, I am looking for a man who will be my partner in life. This felt good to realize. I know what I want now and I am acting more like the woman I want to be. I can go out and drink alone, have conversations with strangers, but I will still be confident and classy. Finding my partner is something worth waiting for; I will wait with patience and poise. Maybe this thought is what prompted me to leave, I was bored with this scene. Being home, watching a Zooey Deschanel movie, eating popcorn sounded more appealing. I got up, and drove home, content.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
My evolution resolution starts NOW!
Last week, I was told I had to leave the place I have been renting and move out in three months. It was nice of my landlord to give me an extra month than what was stated in the lease, but it was still a shock. Additionally, I had already decided to take a new career path starting in 2011, but have not fully figured out what path that will be yet. Suddenly, everything in my life seemed to let go of its grasp on me, and I started to float free, seeing how else I could end other areas of my life. I despaired my lack of grounding and became frantic.
My solution was to tie myself into a contract to teach English in Korea. This seemed perfect; I have been in love with Korean TV, many of my friends have taught in Korea - one is still there in fact! - I drive a Korean-made car, and I ran into some Korean people at the gym. What telling omens, right!? As I started to realize that going to Korea for a year would be a year less that I could be finding grounding for myself, I did not see them as omens. Omens are just horoscopes that are experienced in life, not read somewhere...just wishful thinking.
I need to put more effort into creating the life I want for myself. I am going to work for my dream, and change how I think about many things. So this is the beginning of my evolution resolution! There are four parts to this resolution:
(1) join a gym in order to be healthier physically and emotionally,
(2) adopt healthy habits such as drinking more water and flossing everyday to take care of my body,
(3) find a suitable job that allows me to save money and find an outlet for my more idealistic interests, and
(4) put more effort into self-love through physical appearance and more lady-like dating practices.
I vow to do my darnedest to keep working on these things for a year and reporting back on my progress as I go along. I want to be the healthiest and happiest person I know!
I raise my almost empty wine glass to well-being, happiness, and perseverance! Cheers!
My solution was to tie myself into a contract to teach English in Korea. This seemed perfect; I have been in love with Korean TV, many of my friends have taught in Korea - one is still there in fact! - I drive a Korean-made car, and I ran into some Korean people at the gym. What telling omens, right!? As I started to realize that going to Korea for a year would be a year less that I could be finding grounding for myself, I did not see them as omens. Omens are just horoscopes that are experienced in life, not read somewhere...just wishful thinking.
I need to put more effort into creating the life I want for myself. I am going to work for my dream, and change how I think about many things. So this is the beginning of my evolution resolution! There are four parts to this resolution:
(1) join a gym in order to be healthier physically and emotionally,
(2) adopt healthy habits such as drinking more water and flossing everyday to take care of my body,
(3) find a suitable job that allows me to save money and find an outlet for my more idealistic interests, and
(4) put more effort into self-love through physical appearance and more lady-like dating practices.
I vow to do my darnedest to keep working on these things for a year and reporting back on my progress as I go along. I want to be the healthiest and happiest person I know!
I raise my almost empty wine glass to well-being, happiness, and perseverance! Cheers!
Old-fashioned behavior in modern times?
Today, we often speak about modern women; these are the women who work full-time, pay for meals on dates or at least go dutch, have casual sex like men, co-habitat before marriage, raise children on their own, divorce more than ever, et cetera. We modern women raise our glasses to the feminists who burned their bras for these rights we now possess. Just having these options makes us feel we have accomplished something for woman-kind...but are we selling ourselves short?
For a long time, I have never labeled myself a feminist, partly due to a lack of a satisfying definition for the term. It is one thing to appreciate that women should have equal opportunities as men, but it is very different to assume that women want the same things men do. Women and men are different creatures and each sex has its own strengths and weaknesses. This is fine. It is admirable to know one's own limits and develop one's unique potential. I am not sure women should be celebrating quite yet.
I have long recognized that I get along very well with men as friends. Regardless if they all want to sleep with me or not, we have a lot of fun doing other things as just friends. I have been invited on many guys' nights out and been told I basically am a guy as far as my friends are concerned. This has always made me proud, but thinking about it more, I cannot figure out why it is a matter of pride. I fear I have excelled so well at channeling male energy, that I have forgotten that I really am a woman...I have been living the feminism I always rejected!
Perhaps not all is lost; I am not thinking creatively. Enjoying guys' company or using male energy in the workplace can still be possible, and even rewarding, as long as I ensure there are outlets where my feminine characteristics to shine too. The perfect scene for me to act like a woman is in my relationships with potential suitors and partners. It may be time for a new revolution. I would never advocate for a return to a former time when things were better, because I do not think they were better necessarily. I challenge us to find ways in which women and men can freely utilize both feminine and masculine energy when called for in many different life situations. We have not reached a state of perfection that could be damaged by a little more change.
I will not pretend I know what compels a human to seek out a partner, but can only speak for myself, and then still, not very well. I am simply more alive when I am in love. I want to do more, experience more, give more, create more, be more. How do I find love though? Is it luck or is there some skill to be had?
Many people have their own breed of dating advice which I try to test out and incorporate into my life. As I read about this and talk to friends, I am starting to realize that there has been a lot of dating ritual lost to a time lost to me. I am coming to see that high school dating really gives one a perspective on how to date the right way. Since I dated in a very unconventional manner during high school, I was not able to learn my lessons then. I have gone too far. There is less of an emphasis on sex in high school, but yet it is still present. Dating is not about sex. Sex is about sex, and dating is very different. I have to date as if I am in high school.
But I cannot go back, nor do I want to. I have to evolve from this point forward. I have to learn what boundaries to draw with men as I begin to date them. I have to rediscover my toddler voice that shouts “No!” very clearly. Sex is so easy, dating is seriously hard. I am going to resolve to make some changes to my attitudes about men. A change is in the air and I am standing tall.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
All in Good Time: Lessons in delayed gratification
Life sometimes teaches contradictory lessons. I question what is actually learned when two lessons seems to be equally valid. Have you ever pondered whether life is a game, with no ultimate meaning, but simply something fun to do to pass the time? I do not mean to say life is meaningless, but what I strongly believe is that we make our own meaning in life and the spoken and unspoken rules of conduct are also man-made. Life is a game we all conspire to create as we play, and I most definitely do not know all the rules.
Many people claim they do not want to meet someone who plays games in dating, but that phrase has just become something to say, with no substantive meaning behind it. I challenge you to tell me what you want me to be, instead of giving me a vague sense of what you do not want! Some form of playing games: artificial censoring of behavior, artificial puffing out of chests, putting our best foot forward...are these then acceptable games?
After meeting a man I found myself wanting to see again, my excitement became a hurry-up-and-do-something fury. I wanted to grab, to take, to claim! Waiting for him to call me seemed silly, fake, not me...but many women advised me to wait, and challenged me to try waiting. If dating were surfing, no one would have told me to wait when I found the perfect wave...surfing is all about the present rush, and it does not matter that the wave will level out and you will have to get off your board. I wanted to ride this wave, but I was trying to learn how to be chased. This seems a universally-accepted tip in the woman's guide to dating...but has it been properly vetted?
Leaving my fate in the hands of someone else, even in such a small matter of contacting someone I like, is not something I ever thought admirable. I was taught assertiveness is a strength to be cultivated. Overcoming the fear of putting yourself out there, risking rejection by speaking up is what I have struggled to learn for my whole life. I think I am getting pretty good at this, but now, everyone says to do the opposite. Maybe they are playing a different version of the game.
I have found a certain value in waiting, but I am still very confused by the contradictions. This time, I feel I can afford to wait, my excitement is on a low simmer and I am trusting that I can turn up the heat when the table is all set. I will see this man again, and do not have to worry about capturing him just yet. He will not be lost that easily. Some things I can still control, and recognizing this is showing me how to appreciate delayed gratification.
It feels weird. This feeling of letting go, relinquishing the urge to control the situation completely or rush an outcome, is simply abnormal for me. My mother rejoiced when I told her I was going to let things just happen...she claims this is growing moment for me...and I have to admit she is right, to some extent. I do not know what reason I have for actually waiting this time, but I may have learned this before now and am just putting it into practice, awkwardly, for the first time.
But I do know that my inner toddler, who always want things NOW, is sulkily agreeing that it is better to wait. I guess that is a moment to be celebrated! Prost (i.e. Cheers) to growing pains!
Many people claim they do not want to meet someone who plays games in dating, but that phrase has just become something to say, with no substantive meaning behind it. I challenge you to tell me what you want me to be, instead of giving me a vague sense of what you do not want! Some form of playing games: artificial censoring of behavior, artificial puffing out of chests, putting our best foot forward...are these then acceptable games?
After meeting a man I found myself wanting to see again, my excitement became a hurry-up-and-do-something fury. I wanted to grab, to take, to claim! Waiting for him to call me seemed silly, fake, not me...but many women advised me to wait, and challenged me to try waiting. If dating were surfing, no one would have told me to wait when I found the perfect wave...surfing is all about the present rush, and it does not matter that the wave will level out and you will have to get off your board. I wanted to ride this wave, but I was trying to learn how to be chased. This seems a universally-accepted tip in the woman's guide to dating...but has it been properly vetted?
Leaving my fate in the hands of someone else, even in such a small matter of contacting someone I like, is not something I ever thought admirable. I was taught assertiveness is a strength to be cultivated. Overcoming the fear of putting yourself out there, risking rejection by speaking up is what I have struggled to learn for my whole life. I think I am getting pretty good at this, but now, everyone says to do the opposite. Maybe they are playing a different version of the game.
I have found a certain value in waiting, but I am still very confused by the contradictions. This time, I feel I can afford to wait, my excitement is on a low simmer and I am trusting that I can turn up the heat when the table is all set. I will see this man again, and do not have to worry about capturing him just yet. He will not be lost that easily. Some things I can still control, and recognizing this is showing me how to appreciate delayed gratification.
It feels weird. This feeling of letting go, relinquishing the urge to control the situation completely or rush an outcome, is simply abnormal for me. My mother rejoiced when I told her I was going to let things just happen...she claims this is growing moment for me...and I have to admit she is right, to some extent. I do not know what reason I have for actually waiting this time, but I may have learned this before now and am just putting it into practice, awkwardly, for the first time.
But I do know that my inner toddler, who always want things NOW, is sulkily agreeing that it is better to wait. I guess that is a moment to be celebrated! Prost (i.e. Cheers) to growing pains!
Friday, September 24, 2010
Musings on falling into the eddies of love
Many people see my rationality as one of my greatest strengths and maybe even admire it. For so long, I was enslaved by rationality and was unable to connect with my emotions and intuition. Learning to love has been the path of salvation. With each relationship, each crush, I take another step towards an integral state of emotions and reason. Here, my words fail me; trying to describe the beauty of love is impossible. I can only pledge to immerse myself fully in this wild whirlpool which is love, and also life itself. Perhaps, I will finally be washed clean of the trappings of thought, and my spirit will be able to shine forth.
Recently, I met a beautiful man...and something inside of me stirred. I have been on many first dates recently, but afterwards, I am exhausted from the effort of trying to pretend to enjoy myself. I did not even know I was doing that. But as soon as you meet someone that inspires that wonderful feeling of need...! Some part of me, whether my heart, my soul, my animal lust...began to rumble with the hunger of needing more of this man. Falling in love, falling in lust...the most important thing to do is to remember to fall. I once thought it cunning to say that I did not fall in love, but jumped, but now I realize that I just learned to freefall.
I am an extremely passionate person and I get excited easily. When a spark has been kindled inside of me, I want to fan it into the biggest fire anyone has ever seen! Following my heart allows me to give free reign to the emotional side of me. It is easy to feel the weight of reason in the presence of this inexplicable drive to express myself. It is quite apparent that I desperately need the cage of rationality until I have tamed my wild and powerful emotions. My passion is so strong it scares me.
My urge is to grasp, to obtain, to claim as mine. Why should I waste any time? All advice is to wait, to be patient, to maintain my position of power, to bide my time, to give him space...AARGHH! Does anyone know what it is like to live with a caged animal raging inside of you!? I am hungry!
Passion in work is always admirable, passion in the bedroom is coveted, but passion in dating has so many rules! Are men that petty that they need to be the one who chases the woman, but lose their interest if she is too easy to catch? Who is willing to break this stereotype? I am aware of predatory animals that choose the sick and the weak to pursue for their next meal, but I have never heard of predators chasing the strongest for sport! I refuse, absolutely, to be either an easy target or a difficult one; I aim to be a predator too! With two hunters hunting each other, the only result can be an extremely enjoyable wrestling match, the longer the better. Let the chase begin!
Am I easily classified as a romantic? Who know...all I can say is that when I am in love, I am still ensnared. The trap may look different, but whether it be cold rationality or hot passion, I am truly trussed and bound. Ironically, as I try desperately to follow the advice...waiting, inactive, ineffectual....I realize that the bindings are loosening, falling away. I have to smile. All the reasons for waiting that I have been told are fake, they are tricks that the rational brain believes in, in order to stall the emotional brain. But in this age-old battle, I become forgotten and find my freedom. My choices are mine again, without the need for a reason and without the volatility of passion behind them.
I may not be playing a waiting game any more, but I have found out that waiting allows the entire Me to go onward with both reason and passion on my side. We have made a truce in this no man's land, and no further battle is needed. I can love reasonably, and I can reason passionately, but I will always aim for what I want, and follow the beat of my heart while swaying to the melody of my mind.
I choose to embrace this struggle; life is hard work when you truly dive right in. Cheers!
Recently, I met a beautiful man...and something inside of me stirred. I have been on many first dates recently, but afterwards, I am exhausted from the effort of trying to pretend to enjoy myself. I did not even know I was doing that. But as soon as you meet someone that inspires that wonderful feeling of need...! Some part of me, whether my heart, my soul, my animal lust...began to rumble with the hunger of needing more of this man. Falling in love, falling in lust...the most important thing to do is to remember to fall. I once thought it cunning to say that I did not fall in love, but jumped, but now I realize that I just learned to freefall.
I am an extremely passionate person and I get excited easily. When a spark has been kindled inside of me, I want to fan it into the biggest fire anyone has ever seen! Following my heart allows me to give free reign to the emotional side of me. It is easy to feel the weight of reason in the presence of this inexplicable drive to express myself. It is quite apparent that I desperately need the cage of rationality until I have tamed my wild and powerful emotions. My passion is so strong it scares me.
My urge is to grasp, to obtain, to claim as mine. Why should I waste any time? All advice is to wait, to be patient, to maintain my position of power, to bide my time, to give him space...AARGHH! Does anyone know what it is like to live with a caged animal raging inside of you!? I am hungry!
Passion in work is always admirable, passion in the bedroom is coveted, but passion in dating has so many rules! Are men that petty that they need to be the one who chases the woman, but lose their interest if she is too easy to catch? Who is willing to break this stereotype? I am aware of predatory animals that choose the sick and the weak to pursue for their next meal, but I have never heard of predators chasing the strongest for sport! I refuse, absolutely, to be either an easy target or a difficult one; I aim to be a predator too! With two hunters hunting each other, the only result can be an extremely enjoyable wrestling match, the longer the better. Let the chase begin!
Am I easily classified as a romantic? Who know...all I can say is that when I am in love, I am still ensnared. The trap may look different, but whether it be cold rationality or hot passion, I am truly trussed and bound. Ironically, as I try desperately to follow the advice...waiting, inactive, ineffectual....I realize that the bindings are loosening, falling away. I have to smile. All the reasons for waiting that I have been told are fake, they are tricks that the rational brain believes in, in order to stall the emotional brain. But in this age-old battle, I become forgotten and find my freedom. My choices are mine again, without the need for a reason and without the volatility of passion behind them.
I may not be playing a waiting game any more, but I have found out that waiting allows the entire Me to go onward with both reason and passion on my side. We have made a truce in this no man's land, and no further battle is needed. I can love reasonably, and I can reason passionately, but I will always aim for what I want, and follow the beat of my heart while swaying to the melody of my mind.
I choose to embrace this struggle; life is hard work when you truly dive right in. Cheers!
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Buying wine and snacks at Trader Joe's
My friend from Washington State was in town for the weekend and we stopped into to Trader Joe's for some supplies. I needed some wine first, before they closed on Saturday so I could make it through Sunday in Minnesota. I grabbed two attractively-labeled bottles I had never tried and then made my way to the checkout line manned by a cute guy I wanted to check out!
I asked him if they still carried the Pinotage from South Africa with a giraffe on the bottle, because I had tried to find it and it was not there. He very kindly went to look for it for me and brought me back a bottle. I cannot figure out if they rearrange the store every time constantly or if their many stores look too similar while being so different. With my stock of alcohol, I was in a good mood. I made some comment about being from Wisconsin and how I had to get used to no liquor sales on Sundays. The cute clerk responded that he was also from Wisconsin! I had to know more.
"Where in Wisconsin?" I queried. Madison was his answer. I told him I went to West High and he said, with a smile, that he went to Memorial. Why does anyone care about high schools anyway? If you went to the same school and knew each other, then you would recognize each other, right? We all find some crazy feelings of connection when the world is any bit small.
After he handed me my receipt, he said, "Well, nice to meet you, sort of." What a cute and silly thing to say. I offered my hand and said, "good to meet you too," and we officially met each other, making this checkout anything but a perfunctory interaction devoid of actual connection.
I asked him if they still carried the Pinotage from South Africa with a giraffe on the bottle, because I had tried to find it and it was not there. He very kindly went to look for it for me and brought me back a bottle. I cannot figure out if they rearrange the store every time constantly or if their many stores look too similar while being so different. With my stock of alcohol, I was in a good mood. I made some comment about being from Wisconsin and how I had to get used to no liquor sales on Sundays. The cute clerk responded that he was also from Wisconsin! I had to know more.
"Where in Wisconsin?" I queried. Madison was his answer. I told him I went to West High and he said, with a smile, that he went to Memorial. Why does anyone care about high schools anyway? If you went to the same school and knew each other, then you would recognize each other, right? We all find some crazy feelings of connection when the world is any bit small.
After he handed me my receipt, he said, "Well, nice to meet you, sort of." What a cute and silly thing to say. I offered my hand and said, "good to meet you too," and we officially met each other, making this checkout anything but a perfunctory interaction devoid of actual connection.
*****
My friend and I continued into the food section of Trader Joe's (yes, in Minnesota, they are separate, because alcohol is contagious!). We did our shopping and had our samples, then found ourselves in the checkout line again. The man here was less cute, but still seemed like a happy soul. He said something to us about leaving our items in the cart and taking them out himself...and that simple instruction was the opening to further conversation. I am amazed at how easily opportunity comes to connect with strangers.
We chatted about turkey jerky, plans for the day, and the lotion Trader Joe's leaves out for customers to use at the counter. It was another perfect moment...a perfect way two (or three) people could meet and a story could unfold. I am learning to recognize the moments when doors are opened for me with the slightest touch...I do not have to go through the doors that require me to force them open. Here's a toast to the path of least resistance!
Wednesday night Happy Hour at Houlihan's
After sharing some food and some wine with a good friend on a Wednesday night, I decide (with her prodding of course) to stay a bit longer by myself. Our motive? To see what I might happen if I sat at the bar next to this cute man we had seen sitting alone. He was reading the paper...and every pose he struck, struck us as adorable. We could not tell how he old he was, but we agreed that did not matter. I decided to get my book on the history of South Africa from out of my car...so I strike up some cute reading poses too!
The problem with staying out after you have shared some wine with a friend is that you have to keep drinking while you are out...and I had to work early in the morning. Before I could take my seat at the bar, I had to decide what drink to order. More wine? No, too expensive for just sitting her scoping out some guy. Beer, like he was drinking? No, I hate beer, especially after wine. Gin or whiskey? Too much alcohol in the drinks I like. Ahh, what about....a Tom Collins?! It is light and summery; it is perfect! The bartender came over to me as soon as I sat down, and I was able to say without a moment of hesitation that I would like a Tom Collins. She happily left to make me my drink, but when she returned with two Tom Collins, I was confused. Did she hear me wrong? Did someone order me another drink? I asked her why two, and then I realized why my targeted man also had two drinks in front of him...it was already 11 pm, Happy Hour! Oh no!
While I got comfortable, putting my feet up on the bar stool next to me and opening my book to the beginning...the man three stools down (shall we call him "Mr. Goldilocks?") glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, repeatedly. This was a great start! The beginning of my book was not nearly as interesting, however. I sipped my Tom Collins dutifully, and tried to channel approachability. A baseball game was on, but Mr. Goldilocks glanced at me whenever I moved, not unlike a politely starving man would do to a delicious meal in front of someone else. Minnesota men, why must you all be so damned polite!
I almost asked Mr. Goldilocks to see his City Pages, but some older man asked him where he got his paper before I could use that silly conversation starter. I started to lose interest in having a conversation with Mr. Goldilocks; he was not someone strong enough to say hello to a lone woman in a bar and so he was not someone I wanted to say hello too. Maybe for my next outing I will speak my mind more, but also maybe next time I will actually like to guy I want to speak to and not just see him as an easy target.
I did not finish my second Tom Collins, but I took a few cursory drinks and picked up my book and went home to my bed, again striking out at a bar...why am I not surprised, though? I think men who are at bars at 11 pm on a Wednesday night are not looking for a girlfriend, just a liquid friend.
The problem with staying out after you have shared some wine with a friend is that you have to keep drinking while you are out...and I had to work early in the morning. Before I could take my seat at the bar, I had to decide what drink to order. More wine? No, too expensive for just sitting her scoping out some guy. Beer, like he was drinking? No, I hate beer, especially after wine. Gin or whiskey? Too much alcohol in the drinks I like. Ahh, what about....a Tom Collins?! It is light and summery; it is perfect! The bartender came over to me as soon as I sat down, and I was able to say without a moment of hesitation that I would like a Tom Collins. She happily left to make me my drink, but when she returned with two Tom Collins, I was confused. Did she hear me wrong? Did someone order me another drink? I asked her why two, and then I realized why my targeted man also had two drinks in front of him...it was already 11 pm, Happy Hour! Oh no!
While I got comfortable, putting my feet up on the bar stool next to me and opening my book to the beginning...the man three stools down (shall we call him "Mr. Goldilocks?") glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, repeatedly. This was a great start! The beginning of my book was not nearly as interesting, however. I sipped my Tom Collins dutifully, and tried to channel approachability. A baseball game was on, but Mr. Goldilocks glanced at me whenever I moved, not unlike a politely starving man would do to a delicious meal in front of someone else. Minnesota men, why must you all be so damned polite!
I almost asked Mr. Goldilocks to see his City Pages, but some older man asked him where he got his paper before I could use that silly conversation starter. I started to lose interest in having a conversation with Mr. Goldilocks; he was not someone strong enough to say hello to a lone woman in a bar and so he was not someone I wanted to say hello too. Maybe for my next outing I will speak my mind more, but also maybe next time I will actually like to guy I want to speak to and not just see him as an easy target.
I did not finish my second Tom Collins, but I took a few cursory drinks and picked up my book and went home to my bed, again striking out at a bar...why am I not surprised, though? I think men who are at bars at 11 pm on a Wednesday night are not looking for a girlfriend, just a liquid friend.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Love Letter Experiment starts NOW!
Being single forces me to be creative. I do not know how to meet someone who I will really like, will he be an online dater, or the bold guy at the bar who actually talks to me, or will I have to trip over him curled up in a book store corner? Or perhaps, will I find him by writing a love letter to him and sending it out in the world like a message in a bottle from this island of solitude from where I long to love him?
Today, I put up nine letters to my future love in seven coffee shops and two co-ops where I happen to frequent myself. (I have a tenth one I will put up in a coffee shop tomorrow, but it was closed when I drove by today). Completing this task made me very happy. I think my letter will be discovered by some interesting people and it will be good to meet them, whoever they are.
I revealed nothing about myself in the letter such as age, race, height, weight...or other absolutely meaningless statistics! Whoever fell in love with such insignificant data points!? What is revealed is my heart and my capacity for love. I revealed that I am looking for a man, and that I love him already.
Why am I trying to describe it? Here it is for you to read for yourself:
Darling,
Again I am inspired to write to you for no better reason than to tell you I love you. No matter of love truly is just certain chemicals in my brain, it is such a wonderful phenomenon! Life is so much better with love.
The other day, I was thinking how much pleasure I find in being alive when you are near me. Somehow, seeing you move through your own life, helps me feel my own more. Daily activities take on a new importance, since we can share them. Do you understand what I mean? Being with you allows me to share my life in every simplicity and every complexity so that I have no doubt that my life has meaning.
I am so excited we are choosing to share our lives and encourage them to entwine into a beautiful tapestry of "us." Thank you, sweetest man! What a glorious experience we will have! Please know that I will give all I can to deepen our lives and enjoy every moment we are together. The present moments are all the presents I could ever wish for; no other gifts can compare.
Finding a man like you, so passionate and curious about life, so generous in giving people honesty, respect and common courtesy, so confident in his own skin...I cannot believe how rare you are! But we have met and see each other's inner strength...wow! Do you ever think we are better able to love ourselves because we love another? I do.
With love,
**********@yahoo.com
Today, I put up nine letters to my future love in seven coffee shops and two co-ops where I happen to frequent myself. (I have a tenth one I will put up in a coffee shop tomorrow, but it was closed when I drove by today). Completing this task made me very happy. I think my letter will be discovered by some interesting people and it will be good to meet them, whoever they are.
I revealed nothing about myself in the letter such as age, race, height, weight...or other absolutely meaningless statistics! Whoever fell in love with such insignificant data points!? What is revealed is my heart and my capacity for love. I revealed that I am looking for a man, and that I love him already.
Why am I trying to describe it? Here it is for you to read for yourself:
Darling,
Again I am inspired to write to you for no better reason than to tell you I love you. No matter of love truly is just certain chemicals in my brain, it is such a wonderful phenomenon! Life is so much better with love.
The other day, I was thinking how much pleasure I find in being alive when you are near me. Somehow, seeing you move through your own life, helps me feel my own more. Daily activities take on a new importance, since we can share them. Do you understand what I mean? Being with you allows me to share my life in every simplicity and every complexity so that I have no doubt that my life has meaning.
I am so excited we are choosing to share our lives and encourage them to entwine into a beautiful tapestry of "us." Thank you, sweetest man! What a glorious experience we will have! Please know that I will give all I can to deepen our lives and enjoy every moment we are together. The present moments are all the presents I could ever wish for; no other gifts can compare.
Finding a man like you, so passionate and curious about life, so generous in giving people honesty, respect and common courtesy, so confident in his own skin...I cannot believe how rare you are! But we have met and see each other's inner strength...wow! Do you ever think we are better able to love ourselves because we love another? I do.
With love,
**********@yahoo.com
Saturday, September 11, 2010
A Rainy Friday at Spill the Wine
Friday evenings are THE night to go out, THE night OkCupid asks you to describe for potential matches, THE night I went out this week. I am just not sure I picked THE spot for the occasion.
Spill the Wine is a place I have wanted to go for a long time, but never had someone who seemed appropriate to take there. So it was perfect for me to go there on my own just because I wanted to be there. Last night was rainy and in the spirit of adventure I decided to take the light rail and then walk with my umbrella if necessary to Spill the Wine. It probably cost me more than parking at a meter, but I wanted to be with people on the train.
I stood out on the light rail among teenagers in pajama bottoms and Somali women even though I was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. I had a scarf around my neck, mascara on my eyelashes, and a huge book in my hands as I stood on the train in my high heels. I felt no need to make any contact with my fellow riders, so I just read and balanced as the train moved downtown.
Walking to Spill the Wine was pleasant, but I knew my feet were not going to thank me when I got home. The shoes I was wearing were not meant to stride so purposefully in for any amount of distance...and they pinched! At least they were free, a gift from an organizing client.
My first thought when I walked into Spill the Wine, was "this bar is for women, and I should have expected that!" There were many more women then men in this bar (hint for any wine-loving men); women in twos and threes and fours, or couples obviously brought there by the woman. But, my second thought redeemed the first: "all the waiters and bartenders are extremely handsome men!" It is an ingenious hiring strategy to appeal to one's consumers. I think this is the best barometer of a place's style. I cannot help wonder if sports bars are both attempting to attract men AND repel women. I digress...
I ordered my Malbec and some Calamari, because I was missing the Tapas bars in Spain and wanted to pretend I was there again. I read for while and listened to the women and watched the waiters, quite happy. At some point one of the waiters talked to me about my book, still the Fountainhead, and asked me if I really liked being individualistic (said with fist upraised). I found it an amusing question.
The highlight of my night, besides the good wine, was the bartender. We chatted when things were not busy as I was sitting at the bar. I learned a lot about him, and was surprised to hear him ask me if he was boring me! He wasn't and I enjoyed his expressions when I looked at him. I was in one of my "powerful woman" moments and I think he could tell. One of my guy friends told me that I look at everyone in a sort of flirtatious manner, and I think what he is picking up on is that I am not afraid to undress you with my eyes unabashedly...but without it being about sex. I will look at you and truly see you and not what you may be pretending to be. We meet as equals, humans without pretenses and in its rarity, this is perceived as flirtatious. I no longer mind if it is perceived as such.
My new friend the bartender had the tables turned on him; I became the one he confessed his story to, the one allowing his individual expression to be presented to another being. He gave me a free drink (because I was curious about what a certain liquor was used for) and asked me sincerely to come back again. It was not said in a polite way as I would say to any of the customers in my store...he meant this. I rejoice in this small victory of my night: I was able to connect truly and honestly with another person and life seemed utterly full of joy because of this.
Spill the Wine is a place I have wanted to go for a long time, but never had someone who seemed appropriate to take there. So it was perfect for me to go there on my own just because I wanted to be there. Last night was rainy and in the spirit of adventure I decided to take the light rail and then walk with my umbrella if necessary to Spill the Wine. It probably cost me more than parking at a meter, but I wanted to be with people on the train.
I stood out on the light rail among teenagers in pajama bottoms and Somali women even though I was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. I had a scarf around my neck, mascara on my eyelashes, and a huge book in my hands as I stood on the train in my high heels. I felt no need to make any contact with my fellow riders, so I just read and balanced as the train moved downtown.
Walking to Spill the Wine was pleasant, but I knew my feet were not going to thank me when I got home. The shoes I was wearing were not meant to stride so purposefully in for any amount of distance...and they pinched! At least they were free, a gift from an organizing client.
My first thought when I walked into Spill the Wine, was "this bar is for women, and I should have expected that!" There were many more women then men in this bar (hint for any wine-loving men); women in twos and threes and fours, or couples obviously brought there by the woman. But, my second thought redeemed the first: "all the waiters and bartenders are extremely handsome men!" It is an ingenious hiring strategy to appeal to one's consumers. I think this is the best barometer of a place's style. I cannot help wonder if sports bars are both attempting to attract men AND repel women. I digress...
I ordered my Malbec and some Calamari, because I was missing the Tapas bars in Spain and wanted to pretend I was there again. I read for while and listened to the women and watched the waiters, quite happy. At some point one of the waiters talked to me about my book, still the Fountainhead, and asked me if I really liked being individualistic (said with fist upraised). I found it an amusing question.
The highlight of my night, besides the good wine, was the bartender. We chatted when things were not busy as I was sitting at the bar. I learned a lot about him, and was surprised to hear him ask me if he was boring me! He wasn't and I enjoyed his expressions when I looked at him. I was in one of my "powerful woman" moments and I think he could tell. One of my guy friends told me that I look at everyone in a sort of flirtatious manner, and I think what he is picking up on is that I am not afraid to undress you with my eyes unabashedly...but without it being about sex. I will look at you and truly see you and not what you may be pretending to be. We meet as equals, humans without pretenses and in its rarity, this is perceived as flirtatious. I no longer mind if it is perceived as such.
My new friend the bartender had the tables turned on him; I became the one he confessed his story to, the one allowing his individual expression to be presented to another being. He gave me a free drink (because I was curious about what a certain liquor was used for) and asked me sincerely to come back again. It was not said in a polite way as I would say to any of the customers in my store...he meant this. I rejoice in this small victory of my night: I was able to connect truly and honestly with another person and life seemed utterly full of joy because of this.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Vikings pre-season game at the Herkimer
Yesterday was the last of the pre-season games for both the Packers and the Vikings, and I was eager to see some football. Since I do not own a TV, this meant going somewhere else. I called a fellow Packer fan here in Minneapolis, but got his voicemail, so I went out alone to a bar.
After working all day, I decided I wanted to look good! I changed into something that made me feel sexy: jeans and a T-shirt. I added my new scarf from Germany and some high heels, because that meant I was serious about going out. I put on a bit of mascara and my contact lenses...and felt like someone I am not, which means I was ready.
Being a Packer fan, I went to the Herkimer, my favorite Packer bar in Minneapolis, hoping to see some green and gold. But alas, because we live in Minnesota and there are NFL pre-season cable packages that have to be purchased, we had to watch the Vikings play. Oh well, now I could focus better on the men around me. So I decided to stay anyway.
I was hungry and wanted a drink, so I ordered a glass of wine and a sandwich. I looked around and sighed. Most of the people around me were couples, or men who were not that attractive. So, I took out my book, The Fountainhead, and started to read. I may be crazy to dress up nicely, and go out with a book to a bar, but I feel quite justified. Not only were there too few targets to amuse me, but also, the men I want to attract would be impressed that I am reading A book, so it serves two purposes.
One man kept glancing at me, and that made me feel quite pleased, but he left after one beer and without saying hello. Other men came in and sat nearby but talked together furtively and barely registered my existence. Some older men sat down next to me and talked loudly about the menu. No one seemed to be worthy of my approaching them, so I just ate, drank and read until I was satiated of my dining experience and I left myself.
As I walked away, I strode with confidence, poise and strength, and people on the sidewalks moved out of my way as I walked to my car. It was not an unpleasant night.
After working all day, I decided I wanted to look good! I changed into something that made me feel sexy: jeans and a T-shirt. I added my new scarf from Germany and some high heels, because that meant I was serious about going out. I put on a bit of mascara and my contact lenses...and felt like someone I am not, which means I was ready.
Being a Packer fan, I went to the Herkimer, my favorite Packer bar in Minneapolis, hoping to see some green and gold. But alas, because we live in Minnesota and there are NFL pre-season cable packages that have to be purchased, we had to watch the Vikings play. Oh well, now I could focus better on the men around me. So I decided to stay anyway.
I was hungry and wanted a drink, so I ordered a glass of wine and a sandwich. I looked around and sighed. Most of the people around me were couples, or men who were not that attractive. So, I took out my book, The Fountainhead, and started to read. I may be crazy to dress up nicely, and go out with a book to a bar, but I feel quite justified. Not only were there too few targets to amuse me, but also, the men I want to attract would be impressed that I am reading A book, so it serves two purposes.
One man kept glancing at me, and that made me feel quite pleased, but he left after one beer and without saying hello. Other men came in and sat nearby but talked together furtively and barely registered my existence. Some older men sat down next to me and talked loudly about the menu. No one seemed to be worthy of my approaching them, so I just ate, drank and read until I was satiated of my dining experience and I left myself.
As I walked away, I strode with confidence, poise and strength, and people on the sidewalks moved out of my way as I walked to my car. It was not an unpleasant night.
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