post partum

After our third date where Dan came unhinged over my unwillingness to spend the night, I honestly figured I would never hear from him again. I already had a short trip planned to visit family, and gladly hopped on the plane to get away from the insanity of the whirlwind un-romance.

As I de-briefed my fam on the wild ride that is Dan's emotional instability, I realized the best part of my time with Dan was trapped on his phone. On our third date he captured me and this delightful elderly raver doing the robot together. I really wanted this footage. I debated the risk of texting Señor non compos mentis to ask him for the video, or if I should just let it go because that's what that frozen chick would tell me to do.

Well I hemmed and hawed, and ultimately decided to text Dan.  What's the worst that could happen? He doesn't reply? No loss if you don't have it to begin with.  *deep breath*

Is there any way you could email me the video of me dancing with that lady? I'd love to see if if you still have it. 

*hit send*

Ok if he doesn't text back that's fine. A few hours later...

He replies! He will send it! And he does! Aaaand he has an iPhone which apparently takes shitty video. Ugh. My video is clear and you can see the lady and her intense dance moves (thank you superior camera of the Galaxy S9). His video you can't even really tell that there are two people in the video; you just see a few blinky lights floating in the blackness. Ugh. All that worry and making contact for nothing. Oh well. Moving on!

but doing the Robot with a elderly raver probably WON'T happen twice!! 😭

Except...

A few days later he reaches out - How was your trip? 

I'm sorry, what? Did you get amnesia? We ended our last date where you were YELLING at me that I had insulted your family. For some reason, I replied. I should have just not ever responded, but for some reason I thought he was maybe trying to restore his reputation in my eyes, apologize for yelling, or at least make nice so we end things on good terms.  I have a flaw in that I almost always have to respond to a text, even if I don't like you.

Just at the Chicago airport now. 

No reply. Ok good. He got the message. Until he didn't. The following evening he texted asking if I had gotten back safely, and that he would like to see me soon, and he's at an art walk if I'm not doing anything right now.

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, DAN!?!?!!??

I am as clear as I can possibly be:

I'm home. I don't think we are looking for the same things in a relationship. It is probably best if we go our separate ways. 

Because I am not looking for a psychopath as a life partner, so, best you keep looking sir.  His response is truly a must-see-to-believe, so here are images of his actual text messages that followed.

telling me how I "should" have been

Text translation: I think you know better. I think we might have a difference as far as timing, but that's about it. It worries me that you draw that conclusion. All I said was to keep the physical out of things. We should be friends. You should've been totally agreeable to that if you were at all sincere, but as soon as you can't have your cake and eat it too, then you want to call it quits.

"shame" on me for making "assumptions"

What we have here is textbook codependent manipulations. What can a woman expect from a guy like this? A whiny narcissistic asshole that won't let you have friends, makes you feel bad for having an opinion, and explains any problem you might have with any of the above as your fault. My friends were up in arms, wanting to beat him up, how could Dan say my head was up my ass? Honestly, to me, that one of the least offensive things he said. The worst are the more subtle accusations of how I am a terrible person. (Which, to be fair, I did insult his family, so really I am a terrible person. LOL)

I never responded. Somehow I got over my impulse to reply to everything and everyone, because people like Dan feed on attention. My non-doctor diagnosis: Dan is a manipulative narcissistic personality disorder. Here is a great article that highlights every red flag I saw and every tactic he used on me at one point or another.

Lesson learned here? Look yourself up in the White Pages, then contact them to get your listing removed. Apparently some of us need a psychopathic date to realize we shouldn't have our info just out there for anyone to stalk us. But you don't need that.  There's no reason the whole internet needs to know where you live, who your family members are, where they live, all their contact info, etc. If they really want to stalk you, at least make them pay for a background check.

*Dan didn't stalk me, he never contacted me again after that last text, I never ever felt in danger physically when I was with him, but better safe than sorry*

Romcom-Reallife

All I learned about love came from cheesy 80's movies, where men vie for the attentions of unattainable women, nerds get the hot girl/guy, bad guys get the good girl, and if you pester someone enough they will fall in love with you.

Nerdy (hot) Patrick Dempsey was willing to spend his hard earned cash for a pretend girlfriend.

Lane was willing to nearly kill himself skiing for Monique

Many moons ago I was engaged to a guy who broke things off, then we got back together, then broke things off, then got back together... and so on, and finally I ended things because of my reasons. But I always held out hope that he would come chasing after me and (in the figurative sense) show up outside of my sister's wedding in a porsche 944.

But, heart-crushingly, he did not. Fortunately with time and wisdom I see that it all turned out for the best, but there is that little 80's kid part of me that still wanted to be worth storming a castle.

Well, last fall I dated a guy Hank* for a few months, and he seemed to be quite the catch. Handsome, funny, considerate, loves animals, liked me... and then he couldn't handle being in a relationship at the same time as having a sick and dying dog. So, things fizzled out. I was really sad, but hiked up my big girl panties and moved on.

Well, the beginning of the year marked a Happy New Year text from Hank, and then he proceeded to spend the next few months "liking" my facebook posts and photos, and then it all culminated with a facebook message (not a text, even though surely he still had my number) that he would like to take me out for dinner. When he returns from working in Boston. In four months.

Uhmm... OK? I mean, sure? Not sure what he wanted from dinner. So I waited. And waited. And then finally a phone call asking me to dinner. I agreed, not knowing what he wanted. My best guess was he felt badly about how things ended and wanted to make amends so that we could "be friends." Sure, buddy, whatever. I had said everything I wanted to say when we ended things, but he didn't really, so maybe he was just holding on to that and needed closure. I figure, free dinner is worth letting him feel better about himself. So I go... and really nothing prepared me for what I was met with.

Hank basically fulfilled my every 80's movie fantasy by letting me know he took full responsibility for how things ended and that he wanted to date me again, if I was willing to date him.

holy sh*t

This is basically what dinner looked like:

the movie where I learned the sax is sexy

I was floored, to say the least. And he was leaving the next day for a trip, then back to Boston for work. But he wanted to fly me to Boston for a date. Lawd have mercy. Every 80's fantasy rolled into one. We ended dinner with me needing to collect my thoughts, and him getting on a plane.

What is next for Hank and I? Not sure... but even if it is nothing, my inner 80's kid is glowing, knowing she is worth fighting for.

Nobody puts Baby in the Corner

*y'all know I never use real names, duh. 

spamalot

so I got this email the other day...

And I was reminded of this brilliant troller of trolls...

And for a brief moment considered writing back Mister John Fola. But I couldn't decide which tactic to take -

I didn't realize I had helped you before? I must have been in a fugue state and not been aware of what I was doing. I am glad that despite my apparent hypnosis I was able to assist with the funds transfer. I would be glad to accept the small stipend of One million five hundred thousand United States Dollars, but I fear I will not know what to do with it unless I am fugue-ing again. Do you happen to know any good hypnotists? 

Or perhaps to say -

I'm sorry to say I seem to have forgotten you. I must have amnesia. Are we friends? Business associates? How did we meet? Why am I trying to help you? How is it that little 'ole me could help such an esteemed person as you? I do want to experience the joy with you after safeness (at least I think I do) but feel a little uncomfortable since I don't remember who you are. Please do not take offense, I do not mean to hurt your feelings by not remembering you, but feel that since you are offering me One Million Five Hundred Thousand United States Dollars I should at least be honest with you.  

But ultimately I don't have the same kind of spare time as the guy in the video, and opted to just delete my entire spam folder full of crap.

 buh-bye One Million Five Hundred Thousand United States Dollars...

Take me BACK!

You might remember that I thought one of the tinderdudes was going to be boyfriend material. I was going to write the whole saga, but then I realized it was long and drawn-out and I didn't want to give any more effort to a guy not worth my time.

Borrring

Let's just say he couldn't handle life and a relationship at the same time and leave it at that.

As I return to the tinders however, I am rethinking things and considering begging him to take me back...

the little tyke just won't stay down...

His "about me" is incomplete. It should be "...camping, fishing, reading, football, ... drowning small children."

At first I thought he was attempting a funny face (and failing) but after looking at the rest of his pictures I realized his face got frozen this way. His mother should have warned him.

He's 34... right. And I'm 17. I mean, there's someone for everyone, right? Even vegan satanists. I'm pretty sure the southern Baptists I grew up with think everyone in California is like this dude.

And this guy I'm fairly certain is homeless and lives near the freeway underpass by my house.

Dear Tinderdude that was almost my BF,
PLEASE for the love of all things Tinder, take me BACK!!!
Maybe you'll grow up one of these days and be a man. I'll take my chances! Thank you.
Sincerely,
Willing to Settle (but not totally)

all the playas in the house STAND UP

I'm still on Tinder... (sighs)

But despite the fact that Tinder for women is 99% fugly-dudes and Tinder for men is a gorgeous-lady-playground, I remain hopeful that I can find my prince on this thing. I've been dating a couple of guys from there, and one of them is even a front runner for titleholder "boyfriend," but I find it best not to put all my eggs in one basket.

In my profile, I say I'm only interested in meeting in person, so don't swipe me unless you want to meet me also. So when I matched with a moderately-not-unattractive guy and his first message to me was

I'd LOVE to meet you in person!

I replied with

I love that you'd love to meet in person!

He hastily got to the business of setting up the date. We exchanged numbers and began texting. I was slightly put off because he called me "babe" in his first text. But... I am nothing if not forgiving. (hey! stop laughing!) He suggests coffee, I offer to meet in the afternoon, and he asks if we can do morning instead. My only morning plans were a yoga class, so I decided to forgo my ohmshanti in favor of ohmcoffee. He tells me just to tell him where to be and he will be there.

Showers, puts on make up, picks a cute "just threw this on" outfit...

 #wokeuplikethis

*cut to: Starbucks, 5 minutes before the time Tinderman McJerkathon requested*

I enter Starbucks and look around. He's not here yet. Hmm... do I wait so we can order/stand in line together? Or do I just go ahead and grab a coffee and sit and wait? I opt for the second one and grab a table outside in the shade. I check his Tinder pic one more time to make sure I know what he looks like. I peruse Facebook. I check my bank account balance. Look at email. Check the time. 10:05. He's late. Harumph. But only five minutes. He was coming all the way from Malibu, after all.

I look more at Facebook. Damn I have a lot of friends with kids on the first day of school. 10:10AM. No text, no message, no call. WTF. This guy is getting five more minutes and he better have a damn good reason for being late.

10:15AM MOTHERFUCKER. I SKIPPED YOGA CLASS, GOT DOLLED UP AND PAID $5 FOR COFFEE AND YOU DON'T EVEN BOTHER TO TEXT ME TO LET ME KNOW YOU'RE NOT COMING??? A litany of "expressive" texts come to mind but I don't send one, because you know the second you snark out a text an even better one emerges in your head. I fume the whole 5 minutes home.

I mean, what the f*ck??? He's the one that wanted to meet me. He's the one who picked the time. He's the one who didn't show up!?!?!? I look just like my pictures. If he drove up and saw me it's not like he would be surprised by what I look like and have second thoughts about meeting me.

Never in my life... Finally I decided to just take the high road and all I did was unmatch from him on Tinder. Jerk.

global shit storm

I've been reading several articles lately on global warming and how the shit is hitting the fan a lot sooner than originally predicted. And that we are basically f*cked as a planet, unless we make some severe changes, like, RIGHTNOW. And I am reminded of a story that I must have heard as a kid in church or somewhere jesus-y.

I swear, this was a huge iceberg a second ago.

The story goes that there is a huge rain, and it starts to flood. The streets are filling with water such that regular cars cannot drive through them. A devout christian man is essentially trapped at his house because he has no vehicle. A guy comes with a big truck and offers to give him a ride to higher ground.  Homeboy says, "No thanks, I don't need a ride Mr. Stranger. God is going to save me."

Well, the rains keep coming and the water gets higher. Homeboy has to move into the second floor of his house because the water is so high.  A group in a boat comes by and offers him a ride to higher ground.  Homeboy says, "No thanks, I don't need a ride group of Strangers. God is going to save me."

The rains keep coming, and homeboy has to move to his roof due to flooding of the second floor. But he has faith. He just knows God will save him! And a helicopter comes by and offers to throw him a rope ladder to save him! And homeboy says, "No thanks, I don't need your helicopter ride. You see, GOD is going to save me!"

As you can imagine, Homeboy drowns. And when he gets to heaven, he comes before God and says, "God, I am a good Christian man, faithful my whole life. I prayed for you to save me, but you let me die! How could you do this?" To which God says, "You idiot. I sent you a truck, a boat and a helicopter! You refused all three!"

*facepalm*

I feel like that is what is happening with Global Warming. When the shit really starts to hit the fan, the evangelists are going to have a field day. But when they get to heaven and ask God why he didn't save them from the dying oceans, the horrific weather patterns, the crash of the ecosystem, he is going to say, "You idiot! I sent scientists telling you what was happening, congresspeople and senators to introduce bills that would limit emissions, and inventors to create products and services that would protect earth."

f*ckin idiots.

Call Me Sherlock

I am a little too good at cyber-stalking. I mean, researching online. If there is something to be found on a certain someone and I want to find it, I will. It's how I found out last year that my ex had a new girlfriend almost immediately after he dumped me. It's how I found out that a different ex (who somehow in five years of dating was never able to take me back home with him) took the very next girl to his high school reunion. I figured out who a guy was from OK Cupid with just a username and a picture. I am very very very good at finding things.

Found them!

But sometimes things are best left un-found.  I may or may not have had a drink or three and cyber-stalked browsed around my ex Todd's social media, which led me to his friend's social media, which led me to a post I really didn't want to read. Ugh!! Bob Newhart really says it best: "Stop it!"

Watch the video. Six minutes of genius. A good reminder to us all.

back in the saddle. yee-haw.

What does a girl do to get over the ex-boyfriend blues? Reactivates her online dating profile. (largest sigh possible)

...DOUBLE SIGH...

So. It's been one day and two emails from guys I wouldn't even dream of dating have already emailed me! I feel so popular. And as I was scrolling through the pictures of guys using the app's equivalent of "hot or not" --

-- you can swipe through people's pix, rating them on a 1-5 star level. *slides into black hole and disappears for hours*

The thing is, there are so many fugly people that the average ones start to look not so bad. It is kind of the same effect as beer goggles except you're home alone, sober, swiping at your phone.

So how does one meet guys these days? I don't want to spend every weekend at the bar. You spend way too much money, get a beer belly, and lose half of the next morning to a hangover. I don't love dating online - you have to sift through all the ones that you are not compatible with/not attracted to/are only looking for sex/have mommy issues/etc.  And even once you find one or two dudes that you might deign spend time with, most of the time the spark just isn't there. The older I get, the more my dating pool dries to a puddle.

Anybody have any attractive, available, sane guy friends? That make me laugh? That are at least 5'11"?That have a good job/business, are interested in getting married, don't have kids, don't have any weird hangups, likes my cats, likes to travel, can cook, has friends, and might want to take me out????? Kthx.

Diet is "Die" with a "T"

I had a rude awakening at the beginning of the year. My good friend Claire had begun a new business venture, and I thought I would help her by joining her fitness challenge.  She makes money for each person that participates. Plus I love a good challenge! Well, first thing we had to do was measure ourselves and step on the scale and... *gasp* how in the Sam-Hell did I put on 15+ pounds???? My pants are a little muffin toppy, and yeah my boobs are bigger, but wtf?!?!?

FATTY!!!!

Anyway, I immediately thanked my lucky stars for the wakeup call and the impending diet/workout plan.  The good news -- it is five weeks later and I'm nearly 12 pounds lighter.  The bad news, dammit I'm hungry.

I have never had such bad cravings; wanting to eat everything in sight! Maybe that's because I just ... ate everything in sight. That is, I just ate whatever I wanted.

And then I didn't exercise for months on end.

So I guess I shouldn't have been SO surprised that I had put on a few ell-bees.

It is just so strange, this calorie-counting, this withholding of foods, this ... diet. Or as Garfield would say:

Maybe this is just what happens when you reach "a certain age." Maybe finally finally finally my metabolism has caught up with me. ...or maybe I just drank too many empty calories. Drunky.

Either way, I'm powering through. Gonna drop at least 5 more pounds. Another 10 and I'm back to my high school weight.  hmmm.  nothing tastes as good as thin feels, eh? We'll see about that...

patchouli.

aka barfouli. aka stinkouli. aka gagouli. aka worse-than-old-lady-perfume-ouli.

I apologize to anyone that might wear the stench perfume patchouli, but the malodor feels to me like someone hot boxed some incense in my nose and the hot box was made of stabby things up through my nostrils to my brain. And for some reason 99.99999% of the people that wear patchouli put so much on that you can smell it from about a mile away.

granted, any perfume that you can smell from over 20 feet away is an affront.  I think this every time I pass an old lady that has been wearing the same perfume her whole adult life and now can no longer smell it/takes a bath in it. But for some reason, when someone has slathered themselves in patchouli (as happened this evening) I feel as though I am being assaulted.

Tonight this woman was wearing being owned by patchouli and it was all I could do to be around her without gagging. I tried as politely as possible to keep my hand around my nose so I would smell my own hand rather than her, and also kept as far away as possible, taking care to hold my breath around her and then make sure to breathe OUT first before breathing IN after I had left her general vicinity (and by general vicinity I mean a 25 foot radius) so that any smell that had snuck up in my nose might be expelled before I had to breathe in.

seriously, I want to tell anyone that thinks patchouli smells nice. just don't. If you must enjoy it, buy the incense sticks and burn out in your yard/patio/balcony/wooded area. But PLEASE, PLEASE keep it away from me. It smells so fucking foul that it makes me want to run away from you. And you might be a very nice person.

gahhhh I feel violated...

Black Gold, Texas Tea, Swimming Pools, Movie Stars

I just turned down a job. An acting job. What is the world coming to????

(sigh...)

It was even a paid acting job. And a fun role. And up in Northern Cali for 6 weeks. But not paid enough. Who can live off of $275/week??? That is below the poverty line! I guess they can only hire trust fund kids.

too bad my oil money hasn't come in yet.

(double sigh...)

So I stay here in LALALand aimed on getting something even bigger and better than some dumb lead role in some dumb play in some dumb picturesque town for some dumb reputable theater company.

Hey Uncle Jed? How soon can I get adopted?

a job (or four), a car and a boyfriend.

when I started this crazy adventure nearly a year ago I had no idea where it would lead. I now have three or four jobs (depending on what/how you count), a boyfriend and a car. now what!?!?!?

One thing I never planned on was that my three/four jobs would still not pay all my bills. yeahhhh. so there's that.

I work on the weekends teaching kids acting and modeling, but it is not consistently every weekend nor necessarily both days of the weekend.  If it were, that would be a nice chunk of change every week and almost enough to get by.  But it isn't.

(not actually one of my students)

So I signed up to do extra work. I got one of these calling services that will do the grunt work for you to get you jobs. I have gotten one single solitary day of work through them in a month, but that was cancelled by the production before I could actually do it (ie: no paycheck). Ugh.

Then, I'm working on this TV show as a writer and actor, but it is not exactly managed well, nor will it pay anything until we sell it.  I believe in the show, in the concept, and in the ability for it to provide me with viable employment in the future. But as for now, it is bringing me a whopping $0 on a daily, weekly, monthly basis.

Most recently I just got hired as a "Betty," or a personal assistant for hire on a contract basis.  This company hires out personal assistants for as little as an hour or as much as full-time, although most of the clients only need someone a few hours per week. Granted, I just got them the paperwork last week, but I haven't gotten any calls for work there either.

Egads!

And, c'mon REALLY!?!?!??!  FOUR jobs and I still don't make ends meet? This is ridiculous. I am ready to bring home the bacon!

mmmm... bacon

GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS

note to anyone who might ever want to teach a business seminar:

when you tell the attendees literally about 40 or 50 times that you aren't interested in their money, one begins to think "he doth protest too much."  uhmmmkay? not to mention that on the first day of your two day seminar you could have cut out about FOUR HOURS of the total TEN that we were sitting on our asses. Four hours of my day was spent listening to you fluffing your own ego, bragging and oozing self entitlement about how amazing your life is and how much money you have.  I'm not sure how you can see, Joel Bauer, as your head is so far up your ass it must seem like night to you all the time.

hey, who turned out the lights?!?!?

Bitter Betty, party of one.

Not to say that I didn't learn a ton, and I actually picked up some really useful tips and tricks that I am going to apply.  And the price was certainly right (FREE!!).  But that is time spent I will never get back.  Those 4-5 wasted hours where you blathered on about how amazing you are and the wonderful things you've done and how all these people have paid you all this money for the stupid shit you've done. WHO THE FUCK CARES??? Give me a 30-60 minute bio at the start of the event so I know who I'm learning from and then get to it. Jeez.  And whoever buys your stupid dvd set and 8 day business course will buy it, and those that won't buy it, you aren't convincing us by being a self-righteous prick.

Whew.  I guess I needed to get that off my chest. I went with a friend and she felt the same way:

clearly he was captivating enough to keep us all awake... er, uh...

Oh- and if I happen to get filthy stinking rich by using the tips and tricks I learned at the seminar, then please disregard anything said here.  Thank you.

boys are dumb

Let's back this on up to about four months ago.  My friend Bryan* (who I've known for a year or two and at times thought maybe had an interest in dating me and at times thought maybe not) invites me out of the blue to go see a concert with him, and he wants to grab a drink beforehand... I am unable to go, but it inspires a flurry of flirtexting over the next few days.  Then it dies down and we go back to our regularly scheduled programming, but he has now pulled himself out of the "friend zone." He's gone from guy-I-see-when-I-hang-out-with-that-circle-of-friends to hmm-maybe-this-could-be-worth-checking-out. But then nothing happens. I see him at a few functions, and nothing. What the...???

Well now we cut to just a few days before Christmas and Bryan and I find ourselves at a shindig and we've had tequila shots.  And we're making out.

So Bryan is tall, hilarious, sexy in that aloof way, and moderately not unattractive.  I mention we should hang out after the holidays. I mean, the kissing is fun, and he de-friend-zoned me a few months back, so why wouldn't we want to see if there's something there?

So we both leave for our separate family vaycays.  We text a little on Christmas.  We text a little when we are back in town for New Years Eve. And then... NOTHING!!!! WHAT THE HELL??  You ask me out, you kiss me (granted, they were 3 1/2 months apart) and then nothing??? Guess what buddy. You have found yourself a permanent home.

*name changed to protect the friend-zoned.