Monthly Archives: December 2011

Top 10

Top 10 Reasons Why It’s Great To Be Staying Home For New Year’s Eve:


1. No one to laugh at your choice of alcoholic beverages (cake-flavored vodka, anyone?)

2.  Sweatpants

3.  My date, Belle the dog, probably doesn’t care if I eat dinner in front of the TV.  Well, as long as she gets some, too, I suppose.

4.  I get to pick what to watch on TV (Belle doesn’t get a vote).

5.  No makeup to take off at the end of the night.

6.  I can go to bed without waiting for even the Eastern time zone midnight to roll around.

7.  Likelihood of being bothered with texts or phone calls during a soak in the whirlpool tub is extremely low (and, I just might consider the whirlpool tub my date instead of Belle) (just sayin’) (what have ya done for me lately and all that)

8.  After drinking too much, I can throw up in my own bathroom.  And undoubtedly there will be absolutely no line to get into it, either.

9.  Online stores never close!

10.   I can wear my party hat all night if I want to.


So, am I missing any highpoints?

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Blue Year’s Eve…

Of all of them, this is probably my most un-favorite holiday.

It seems like it’s been years since I’ve had someone to celebrate with.  Back in the day, I used to host the NYE party so that I’d be assured of being around friends and family when the clock struck midnight.  But, times change, friends get married and have their own families, and with everyone going in different directions, I find myself alone, yet again, on New Year’s Eve.

I will likely spend the night as I have for the past few years:  stay home, make something incredible for dinner, find an NCIS marathon (or other suitable show) on TV, drink heavily and take some (legal!) drugs with the intent of being unconscious by 10pm and yet still able to get up the next morning.

Sounds like a blast, no?

Yes, there are friend’s houses I could go to … but again, I would be the only singleton there.  And yes, I know — I need to get over myself.

Also, I do realize that there are singles parties in the city that I could go to, but the thought of driving up there, not drinking (because I have to go home to take care of the dog), and then hauling my tired butt back home?  I’m sighing tiredly and dramatically just thinking about it.  And plus, my fear is that instead of being actually alone, that I’d be metaphorically alone in this crowd of revelers.  Wouldn’t that be awesome, right?

Usually, I’m okay with my single status.  It’s just how things are right now.  But NYE brings out all the couples, all the parties, all the get togethers where my single presence is made awkward as I stand around trying to look completely drawn in by the clock on the wall or the TV blaring party music, while all my friends hug and kiss in the new year with each other.  It’s like life’s slapping me in the face, just in case I didn’t already realize that I’m alone.

And frankly?  I don’t enjoy being bitch-slapped by life.

I’ll get over it … every year I manage to, at least.  I’ll spend the sober-ish part of the night working on my resolutions for the new year (I’m big into that), and there’s a small part of me that enjoys not having to deal with all the people and crazies and drunks out there.  I’ll lie to myself and tell myself that I’m better off just staying home, that I can go out and have fun with my friends on any night when things are closer to sane.

So don’t worry about me; I know I sound a little down and pathetic, but I assure you that the coming of January 1st always does good things for me:  a new year, a fresh start and done with the holidays!  Yay!

And hey – if you’re in town and looking for a fun time, stop by!  The food will be great and I’m sure the dog will appreciate better company than just me.

Epilogue

The roommate situation from yesterday?

Resolved.

I need to start remembering that my brain likes to blow things out of proportion a little.  And when I get no sleep?  The brain cells responsible for sensible, pragmatic thought are likely napping and certainly not monitoring all the crazy thoughts.

We did spend time airing grievances and working through how both of us could be happy, though.  While I might have made it more than it was, there still existed a situation that needed some attention.

And the answer?

We’re splitting the cost of one of these:

lullabye...and good night...da da daaaa da da da daaaa

Indulge me…

…while I rant for a bit, would you?

A little background:  my roommate K had been in a year-long relationship with a girl who was not my favorite person ever.  Actually – on her own, while we had absolutely NOTHING in common, she was nice enough.  But, I hated the way she treated K.  Case in point:  her ability to sleep with many, many people while still proclaiming “they don’t mean anything to me!” and “you’re the one I love!”. And when K is with the GF (now ex, kinda), she seems to lose all understanding that the world doesn’t revolve around the (ex)GF and treats me kind of cruddy.  Just my $0.02, of course.

So – last night.  They’ve been broken up for a few months now, though still occasionally sleeping together and “hanging out”.  Last night, K tells me that the (ex)GF is coming over to drop something off.  This is the conversation we had, verbatim:

Me:  Is she staying over?
K:  Absolutely not.
K (turning to look me in the eye for emphasis):  No.  Absolutely not.
Me:  That makes me glad – you guys are loud when you’re up there (note:  K’s room is right above mine).

So, what would be the logical conclusion to that conversation?  That the (ex)GF isn’t staying.  Right?  You with me here?

It’s 10pm.  I’ve been in bed for awhile, just about asleep, and the (ex)GF makes her entrance.  Instead of just handing off something, they immediately go upstairs — not surprising.  They’re talking… which I can hear.  They’re doing … something… which is irritating the dog, since I can hear her stalking around.  I give it almost 45 minutes and then head to the basement couch, thinking, “Well, she’s not staying so I’ll just doze here on this uncomfortable couch until she goes home”.

Around 11:30pm, they come barreling downstairs.  I think, “Finally! I can go to bed!” and start gathering my stuff.  But – instead – my roommate goes out the back door with the dog.  The (ex)GF goes out the front door on her own.  And within 5 minutes, they’re both back and loudly heading upstairs.

I think,”Hmm… they must not be done talking.  I’ll wait down here for her to leave since I won’t be able to fall asleep in my own room with them talking.”

At 11:50pm I have a coughing fit and head up to my room to get a cough drop. She’s still not gone.

12:15pm rolls around and I’m totally not sleeping because I’m uncomfortable (and utterly irritated by this point) and so I head out for a walk in the cold. Apparently the dog heard me go out and when I come back, barks loudly for awhile to greet me.  Good dog.

This is the highpoint of my night.

My roommate’s slamming door tells me she doesn’t agree.

I check my phone — we have an agreement that if someone is staying over, we will explicitly let each other know.  Usually K will text me, knowing that I keep my phone off for texts at night — it won’t wake me up if I’m sleeping, but will let me know as soon as I’m awake — and there’s no text from K telling me that the (ex)GF is staying.

Now, logically, I know she’s staying.  The house is fairly quiet.  But still – they could be up and talking – I wouldn’t be able to hear that from my spot in the basement.  Or, if not talking now, then later on at night (Thanksgiving night they kept me up until almost 4am with their on-and-off again conversations) which would wake me up.

So, there I am in the basement, attempting sleep. Karma being what it is, because I disturbed the dog I’m now her keeper for the rest of the night and get to share the uncomfortable couch with her, making sleep even less likely. I get maybe – optimistically – 3 hours total…4:40am comes early when one is up to shenanigans all night.  I wake up in a foul mood, my day already spoiled. Which is probably my own fault.

Looking back, I should have immediately told them that they were being loud and to quiet down, please.  That probably would have either made them quiet down, or – if they didn’t – totally given me the high ground since I would have asked politely before getting mad.

I will say this:  because I knew I could fall back on the “you told me she wasn’t staying” thing, I didn’t exactly make it my priority to be quiet. Yes, I engaged in a little passive-aggressive warfare.  If they can’t be quiet for me, why should I be quiet for them?  Mature, right?

I get that my roommate is probably pissed at me for how I handled the situation.  I’m guessing that despite me not being informed that the (ex)GF was staying (and, in fact, explicitly told she wasn’t staying), she figured I’d make that assumption and should have been quieter.

Anyway, it’s the day after.  No apology text from K, which means she’s definitely mad at me.  And I certainly haven’t texted her, since I can’t seem to get this bit of nastiness out of my system either and don’t want to start a full-out war because of something that, in the grand scheme, isn’t all that important.

Yea, I get that part, too.  That I probably overreacted.

And that if it had been anyone other than (ex)GF it’s possible that I would have behaved more adult-like.

The resolution of all this should be interesting.  We’re usually pretty good at talking things out pretty soon after they happen — neither of us wants something to escalate into more than it’s worth.  Still, in my head, the conversation we’re going to have is heated and not ending well because it starts and ends with me doing a lot of accusing and not being nice.

What I’m hoping for?  That all those conversations die in my head.  That once confronted with this flesh-and-blood person who I love and really want to keep as friend and roommate, that I’ll do the compromising and apologizing that I need to do.  And also?  That she does the same.  She hasn’t let me down yet in this kind of situation, so here goes nothing.

No need for the dirty deed

Ever have one of those moments when everything is rolling along nicely, feeling happy, life is good and then a stray comment by someone totally takes you down?

That happened to me last night.

I was having a conversation with my roommate, K., about chicks and relationships and how it seems like everyone out there is crazy.  And then she’s bemoaning her awful fate:

K:  “…and I haven’t had sex in over a month!”
Me:  (incredulous look… I measure in years)
Me:  “Seriously? YOU are complaining to ME about THAT?”
K:  “But you don’t need sex.”
Me:  (silence)

She didn’t mean anything bad or evil or really ANYTHING by it, just an offhand, throwaway comment, I suppose.  But to me it felt like an absolute sucker punch. I went from joking and happy to barely able to contain tears.  I covered well, and K. didn’t really notice (she was caught up in her own girl problem drama). She kind of looked at me funny and was all, “I mean, it’s not like in any of your relationships that you’ve had a lot of sex…” … to which I responded that most of my relationships had been with guys and 99% of the time, it just didn’t feel right so it was something I avoided. And then I quickly ended the conversation.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t want or need sex; I do.  Badly (how pathetic does that sound?).  But why talk about something that’s not going to happen anytime soon?  That’s just depressing.

I guess it was a shock to hear what her view was of me.  I mean, I’ve known forever that I’m not her type and she likely finds me as attractive as a box of rocks (doesn’t mean she doesn’t love me, just no desire to nail me) … but to hear her say that she thinks of me as practically asexual — well, that was a blow. If the people closest to me perceive me this way, what must people who know me only casually think?  Am I a big, glaring, “no sex here!” billboard?

Most of last night into this morning was spent thinking about and over-analyzing my (lack of a) sex life.  It’s true — there’s been glaringly little of it through the years.  It’s also true that going years without sex makes the immediate need less, well, immediate, I suppose.  I’ve learned to just get along without it (well, at least with it involving another person, that is).  I’m not a one-night stand kind of girl (not that I’ve ever been propositioned), nor someone who will hook up with a friend just to have sex — that seems like it’d be fraught with danger (which has only happened once, anyway). So, I have some very long, very drawn-out dry periods.  One of which I’m currently in.

But maybe something needs to change.  I know that all things sexual make me blush — I come from a family where sex and love and anything vaguely related was never talked about, teased about, mentioned at all.  I know my family loves me, but we’re so anti-feelings, anti-touching, anti-communication that it’s always been a challenge for me to be open about anything, much less sex. But I think that maybe I just need to start being more bold, more outspoken.  Shock my friends with my willingness to chat about things between the sheets, perhaps.

Sure, I’d like someone in my life not only to rock my world, but do all the things that lead up to that.  This isn’t news to anyone.  But something to consider — that perhaps my dates don’t go so well because of some vibe that I’m giving off? Something that makes it seem like I’m closed off and not looking for a relationship (though, clearly, if I’m on a date — that originated from a dating website — I am)?  I don’t believe that you’ve got to be sexually over-aggressive to get what you want, but maybe I need to figure out a way to make sure that my big, gay, neon sign flashes, “Open for business!” instead of “Closed for the season…”.

Clueless

I don’t get chicks.  I really don’t.

You’d think that being one myself, I’d have some sort of insight, but … no.

So – the first date I talked about last time?  It fizzled out in such unspectacular fashion that I’m still not quite sure what happened.  We emailed a few times, texted a few times.  She was going to Colorado, said that our schedules probably made it better if we hung out on the weekend (very true… I work early, she works late and we live about an hour apart) and that we could figure out a time to get together when she got back.

Which was great!  I was happy with that.  While she was in Colorado, I texted her and we exchanged a few notes.  She got back and I didn’t hear from her so I texted again and we texted for a few hours.  And then I started realizing that it was always ME texting and ME emailing and her just responding.  So – I decided to just stop.  She knows my number.

And you know how this played out, right?  I haven’t heard from her since then.

Which makes me sad.  Yea, I had thoughts of there being a potential relationship there.  But even without the romantic stuff, I thought we could be friends.  We have so much in common — and lots of activities to do together — that I thought it could be good.  I assume she’s all full-up in the friend department because I’ve heard nary a word from her.

It’s not as though she even really implied a future (aside from saying that we’d hang out when she got back from vacation), but I guess I would just like hearing, “Hey, you’re a great person and all but I’m not interested.”  We’re adults — I would welcome that far more than just silence and wondering what happened.

So, I’m making another foray into the online world.  At some point my luck has got to change, right?

Maybe?

So, as I alluded to in my last post, I actually had a date last night.

I know – amazing!  Will wonders never cease??

Let me back up.  I know I’ve talked about having done and been disappointed in the online dating world — people generally just don’t turn out to be who they say they are — and so I mostly gave up on it.  However, I still get the emails a couple of times a week, proclaiming that my perfect match IS LISTED RIGHT THERE!  HURRY!

And last week, the profile photo of the first girl listed caught my eye, for whatever reason.  With a hefty amount of skepticism, I clicked through.  And what did I find?  A profile that was apparently written by my stunt double.  I mean, if I didn’t know better, I would have thought she was trying to assume my identity!

I think I’m a bit of an anomaly out in the dating world; I don’t really like going out much.  I run and do triathlons.  One of my favorite activities?  Going to bed early so I can get up early and be active.  And this girl?  Well, it was like reading about myself.

When I got to her answer for “What do you typically do on a Friday night?” I knew I had a girl crush… her answer?  “Not much because I’m getting up early on Saturday to run.”  I mean, really — could she be more perfect?

So, I made contact — just a short email complimenting her on her recent Half Ironman race finish.  Didn’t want to overwhelm her with an epic novel the first time she heard from me, and plus — why spend time and energy on an email that will likely not be responded to?  That was my thinking.

To my surprise, about 5 days later I had a return email from her sitting in my inbox!  I was psyched.  And then?  A little email exchange happened over the next few days and it was all good.  No apparent psychotic tendencies. No requests for a threesome or her telling me she was married and just looking for something on the side because she was curious.  She seemed quite normal, in fact!  And like me in so many ways that it was almost a little eerie. Queue the Twilight Zone music, please.

We emailed about racing and our dogs and work and it wasn’t long before we were setting up a time to do a meet and greet.  Because no matter how well things go with correspondence, nothing takes the place of a face-to-face meeting to find out if there’s chemistry and if the person is who they say they are.  I mean, for all I knew, she could have been a 60 year old dude.  Or a talking dog.  Well, a typing dog.

The meeting was set for a local brew pub.  I got there early (it’s a disease! I can’t help it!) and was waiting at the bar, having a beer to both calm my nerves and talk myself down from the high expectations I’d built up.  She walked through the door, smiled at me and … wow.  First – she looked exactly like her profile picture (and that almost NEVER happens!).  Second – killer smile.

After the “wow” moment, we got a table and sat down and chatted for almost two hours.  Nothing earth-shaking, nothing too serious.  We have so many hobbies in common that it was easy to keep the conversation light without working too hard.

And I have to admit, by the end of the evening, I was definitely “in like” with her, but no longer overwhelmed and thinking about when we could move in together.  The difference between this and every other date I’ve had, though, is that I genuinely want to see her again.  I enjoyed her company and want to get to know her better.  If nothing else, she seems like a totally cool chick that I could see myself hanging out with at races and getting together with to ride bikes once the weather becomes a little less Chicago-wintery.

When we parted ways, things got a little weird and awkward … I’m still trying to figure this out.  Ending a date with a chick is like unknown territory for me.  My date seemed either nervous or not interested — I wasn’t sure which one.  I was just nervous.  So, from about 5 feet away from each other, we said our goodbyes.  I told her I had a great time, would like to do it again and if she thought so too, she should let me know.

I spent the ride home analyzing the date, trying to figure out what she was thinking about me, coming to no conclusions (I told you – I’m not good at this!). But an email was waiting for me when I got home… nothing too much more than saying she had a good time and thanking me for dinner, but I think it’s a good sign.

So… maybe?  Just perhaps?  The start of something?