It's Dave, Again

Roughly a year ago, I found a note on my car while I was at the park walking my dog. The note was written on an electric company envelope and basically said, "I think you're cute, call me. I'm Dave." Yeah... not so much.

Today, on the way home from the park after having walked my dog, I saw a piece of paper stuck under my wiper blade. It was a piece of envelope:
Just looking for a friend if you are and you are single give me a call my name is Dave ###-####
Whoever Dave is (and I seriously doubt he's actually one of the cute frisbee golf-playing college lads who hang about the park), I wonder, hasn't he ever heard of Craigslist? This notes on cars thing is so analog.

On a more serious note, it does creep me out. I'm thinking I'll find a different spot to park next time.

Head + Wall. Smack. Repeat.

I went out with M. on Friday night. We saw a band, got some coffee, and talked about Mr. B. It's killing me, it truly is. She tells me how it is, and asks me what I think. Then I say, in as diplomatic a way as I can, "I don't think he wants to bone you."

Then she says, "But, what you don't understand is..." and talks about how he must be THE ONE because of how she feels about him.

Me: Okay, I can appreciate that, but you guys still haven't gone on an actual date.
M: Well, no.
Me: Nor have you kissed him.
M: True.
Me: Nor has he said anything about being interested in you as something other than a platonic friend.
M: But, you don't understand. He is the man I'm going to marry.

Uh huh. Right. She says it so absolutely and refuses to even consider any possibility that could run counter to that. It's like she's talking about the existence of gravity, she so definite. One one hand, as her friend, I'd love to see her with this guy she's mooning over. On the other, as a realist, I think she's being an idiot. I mean, come on, I've been there, right? The whole situation is remarkably reminiscent of my crush on The Guy, and when I finally resolved to ask him outright about it, he said "No thanks." So, I can speak from experience here. The more time that passes, and the more I hear about how it's going with M and Mr. B, the more sure I am that it's never going to happen. But, what do I know? She's already picking out her wedding dress.

Ready For Spring

Thanks to lucky timing with the photography club, I'm going to be in a photo show. I'll have 3-5 photos in the show, depending on how many entries they get, and this will be one of them. The reception for the show's opening is Thursday. I'm excited.

Can't Win For Losing

After Army Guy who dropped off the face of the planet, I meet Comic Book Guy who is nice and interested, but who I feel no attraction for. It's like the two guys are photo negatives of each other. If only it'd work to put 'em both in a blender and mix them together.

Sadly, it doesn't work that way and now that I have a persistent suitor, I need to somehow convey that he should look for someone else. But, of course, I got another e-mail (?!) about making plans for this weekend and about how he's so enjoyed getting to know me etc, etc. So much for the hope that a few days of silence meant he was getting the not-working vibe.

The only thing worse than getting rejected by a guy: having to reject a nice one. Damnit.

Gym Goals

After something like two months of meeting with BB, I think we've finally gotten to the point where he's starting to get comfortable with me. It helps that I've started talking more. Today he watched me do my core workout. I wasn't looking forward to the idea of getting stared at while I did my workout, but I went to the gym a little early so I could do my upper & lower body workouts before meeting with him. He was working with another client at the same time, going through that guy's entire workout together. So, I ignored them and did my thing and figured BB was probably going to be glancing over from time to time to check up on me ('cause, as a teacher, that's exactly what I'd be doing in that kind of situation). As I was doing my rope pull-downs, BB walked over and said, "Not like that, like this..." proving that he was keeping an eye on me. The rest of it looked good though, he said.

Once he finished up with the other guy, we went through my core workout, which went fine. Back in his office, he brought up goals again. Ever since I started this personal training experience, he's been bringing up goals. During that first meeting, the other gal told me how goals are important, and how to set up SMART goals, yadda, yadda, yadda. I totally understand the importance of goals. I'm not knocking them, but I've been avoiding goals for the gym.

For BB and the other gal, it's all about deciding on a desirable end goal (lose X lbs) and they'll help you figure out the means (do X amount of working out). For me, the means is the end. My goal was all about starting, and maintaining, a workout regimen. Thus goal = achieved. Yeah, I'd also like to go down a pants size, but I see it as a side effect of me being healthier less than the goal itself.

BB: Next time we meet, I want you to tell me a specific goal you have.
Me: *noncomittal sound*
BB: Think about it. Think about what you want to achieve. I don't think you need to lose any weight, so maybe it's something like you want to run a mile in a certain amount of time.
Me: Okay, I'll think about it.

Wait. Was that a compliment? Cool.

So, I'm going to come up with a specific goal I can tell BB about next week and that'll make him happy. In the meantime, I'll work on my other goal of building rapport with BB. I can be friendly with most people, but he's been tough - has a lot to do with my self-consciousness about the gym at the beginning, but now I'm more comfortable.

My Brother's Girlfriend...

...is making me roll my eyes.

Here's the deal: My brother is currently doing a whole European tour thing with a couple of friends. This is his big chance to do it, and then he gets back and I help him move to another state. His girlfriend, meanwhile, couldn't go on the trip (save for a week in England). So, he's in Europe and she's in the US.

The girl and I are facebook friends, which gives me the joy of reading her status updates a few times a day and they're all riffs on one theme - how much she misses my brother. Yeah. I get it. We all get it. You miss him. It was endearing the first time, sweet the second, but by the fiftieth...

But, I have to remind myself that she's only 19 and that this is really the first time she and my brother have been apart in the whole nine months they've been dating. Still, if this is how it goes when they're away from each other for a couple weeks, it makes me wonder how it's going to go once they're living in different states.

Amanda's Defense

Amanda defended her M.A. thesis yesterday. She was mundo freaking out before hand, of course, but she did fine.

A group of us - Amanda, her brother, her committee, two other faculty, and me, went out to dinner afterward to celebrate. It was hard to be chipper, though. For all that I'm happy for her, it really brings home the fact that this was the last real thing on her to-do list before she moves. Thursday, if all goes according to plan, is when she'll be packed up in her car and driving to meet her husband in the new place. Two days, and she's gone.

And here it seems like I was just getting used to having her around.

The Comic Book Guy Verdict

After meeting Comic Book Guy for the first time, I was pretty uncertain whether or not I was interested. Then a few days went by and the uncertainty was leaning toward "not really."

Tonight was date #2. Mid-way through, I was thinking of other things I'd rather be doing or other people I'd rather be talking to. Toward the end, as we were standing beside the pretty riverwalk during a lovely evening, I was thinking of how the conversation had become boring and I couldn't save it. I was also thinking that Comic Book Guy does not smell good to me. They've done oodles of studies about attraction and smell, and I've got my own experiences to verify the findings. The way Comic Book Guy smells reminds me of old socks and stale cigarette smoke. Yeah, no attraction.

Well, game over. Except, I think he's still interested, which means I've got to talk to Amanda and figure out what to do if/when he wants to make plans again. *Sigh* I don't like this part of dating either.

F*ing Facebook Updates

I went to middle & high school with this gal and now we're on Facebook and she keeps posting these obnoxious updates about how sickeningly, disgustingly, puke-inducingly happy she is. Her husband is Mr. Absolutely-Wonderful and she's going to Hawaii for a week, blah, blah, friggin' blah. It's like nails on a chalkboard, except that chalkboard is my spine and it's giving me a nervous tick. See that? That was my eyelid spasming.

I had to "hide" her. It was either that or strangle her.

Lonely Tennis Shoes

This photo comes from around where I take my dog for walks. I don't often play around with black and white, but it fit this one.

Hard Core

The other day, as I was cruising along the Interstate on my way to Jenny's, I saw one of the strangest things I've seen in a while. There, walking on the shoulder, was a 20-ish blond guy carrying a cross. This was about ten miles out of my city and about fifteen away from the next patch of civilization, and the cross was huge. Here, let me give you a visual aid:


I pulled this photo off a website (click on the photo if you want to go to it), but it's pretty much the same thing I saw, save that my guy was doing his trek solo. It makes me curious about the guy I saw. I can understand doing something like this in a group, or for a shorter distance, but to do a 20+ mile solo hike along the freaking Interstate? It pretty much offers only two possibilities: he's scary hard core religious, or trying to atone for something big. It's that second option which interests me and makes me wonder. What sin would one do penance for by carrying a cross along the Interstate? Hrm... I'd bet money it had something to do with sex.

Guys Make Lists Too

Here's a Craigslist ad, with response, that made me laugh. I wanted to pass it along. I love the commentary.

Cookies and Kids

Hung out with my friend Jenny yesterday and did some baking. Got to see her two kids, a 7 year old boy and 1 year old girl, which was awesome. I adore her son and was one of the first people to know about Jenny's pregnancy with her daughter. We were camping with a group of friends and, while everyone else went into a tent to get stoned, Jenny and I sat by the campfire playing cards. "I think I might be pregnant," Jenny said, pulling a card off the deck. "It's kind of early to tell, but I'm pretty sure."

Anyhow, we made a cake for her husband in honor of his birthday, did a batch of chocolate chip cookies, and played with the kids. It was great.

Her brother, who lives with them, came home mid-cookie-baking and sat in the kitchen with us. Yes, he's single and about my age. No, there's no way in hell I'd ever date him. To give you an idea of why not - he spoke loads of Spanish during the conversation just to show off, and he doesn't especially speak it well, but that damn sure wasn't going to stop him. Nothing stops him. Head like a brick wall. Totally obnoxious (and not at all in a cute, flirty way, just in a 'please shut him up' way). Ugh. Luckily, he works swing shift and went to bed before long.

The baked goods came out well, but that was secondary for me to sitting on the porch swing with the 7 year old in my lap, talking with Jenny and watching the little girl dance, with all the coordination of a drunk, on the deck.

The Girl With Skills

I found a cool post and wanted to pass it on, The Female Equivalent of the Nice Guy: The Girl With Skills. It's interesting and I certainly identify with a lot of his description of The Girl With Skills. Tom-boy? Check. Poker-faced? Check.

Thanks to certain things when I was growing up, like hanging out with the neighbor boy and having to hold my own with his friends while playing war, I developed the habit of out-guying the guys. This was a big part of my experience as a young lass and teen. Interacting with boys was all about being tougher than them, because that was the habit I'd developed. Habits are hard to shake.

These days I'm much more aware of this, and much more aware that it's a bad thing. So, I'm better. When that comment of, "Oh yeah, I bet I could beat you at X" comes to my lips, I recognize it for what it is - self-defense - and quash it. I don't have to prove my butch-ness any more.

These days, when I like a guy, I work really hard to actually show it. I still suck at doing this, but I do rather better now than my previous strategy which was built upon either:
1. Ignoring him
2. Being somehow competitive with him

Because, when we get right down to it, whether we're talking nice guy or girl with skills, there are real reasons these folks struggle with dating.

• Nice Guys tend to be too nice. They're so accommodating that the gal might as well not be dating him 'cause he's got little to add to the relationship - it's all, "I'll do whatever you want to do," which gets old fast.

• Girls With Skills tend to be too demanding. They've driven themselves to work so hard because they feel like anything less makes them less. Thus, the standards they set for a guy tend to be extreme because they expect the guy to either match or exceed her in what she's achieved, and those achievements are specific. So, the wonderful guy who's X instead of Y - like, an artist instead of a lawyer, never has a chance because her scale of "worthy" versus "not" is very specific.
  

I recognize parts of myself in this gal, but I'm glad to say I never matched her exactly. These days, I appreciate the need to resemble her even less. It's not about "settling" or lacking standards, but instead it's about recognizing which standards are important (he's respectful of you) and which are arbitrary (he earns X amount of money).

I've got a list of things I'm looking for in a guy, the Charlie List, and I've thought very hard about what should go on it. Even so, some of them are still negotiable, but overall I feel pretty good that they're necessary, i.e. I just can't be with a guy who lacks confidence. He doesn't have to be confident about everything, I'm sure not, but a guy who's got generally low self esteem doesn't work for me, and I make no apologies about it.

Photo: Golden Heart

"And nothing in the world prepared me for
your heart
your heart..."
-Mark Knopfler


I love walking the trail and seeing the foliage change through the seasons. My favorite season for pictures is fall. Gorgeous colors in the fall. My favorite thing about this picture is the way the single leaf pops against the unfocused bark background.

The Arcade

I spot Comic Book Guy from a few yards away. He's facing the other direction where he thinks I'll be coming from and I have a moment to look at him. "Huh," I think. "He's taller than I expected, and thinner." I think the photos of him on the website are a few years old, but they're still incredibly accurate. Comic Book Guy: Glasses, sandy brown hair, goatee, gangly kind of build, and wearing a faded long-sleeved t-shirt the sleeves of which are a bit too short and come an inch short of his wrists. Now, I know we're meeting in an arcade, but would it have killed him to wear a decent shirt?

Me: Hi.
Him: Hi. It's nice to meet you.
He shakes my hand. (Really? Really?)

Then it's onto the games, which are a good thing as they're both something to talk about and a partial distraction. We work our way up to two games of air hockey and I totally whip him both times, then it's two games of pool where I lose both, so it all evens out. By then, I'm dying for a drink so we shift gears and take a break at the picnic tables.

By now he's comfortable enough with me to actually start talking. He tells me funny stories about his siblings, about his niece (she's 6 and he adores her), and, above all, cars. Once again, my brother comes in handy because I can talk about his cars (a '52 DeSoto and '72 El Camino). But, Comic Book Guy is still awkward enough that he doesn't look at me much, even though we're sitting at the table across from each other. He looks to the left, he looks to the right, he looks at his lemonade...

From there, we start walking around the nearby park and past the shops. By now he's downright chatty. Eventually, four hours have passed and some weather's moving in and I say I'd best be heading home. He shakes my hand again and there's a half-way hug thing, then he walks me to my car a few blocks away. At my car there's an actual hug and then I'm on the road, calling Amanda.

Amanda: So, what'd you think?
Me: He's pretty much what I thought he'd be. Nice, smart, but kind of... timid.
Amanda: Yeah, that's him. Do you like him?
Me: I don't know yet. I mean, I like him fine, but do I like him enough to want to kiss him? I don't know.
Amanda: *frustrated sound* It takes you so long to decide. I always knew right away.
Me: If I had to say, right now, gut-reaction, I'd say probably not. But, I don't know. I like him enough to know him a little better before I decide. So, we'll see.

F*ing Scale

I'm getting frustrated with the gym. Well, sort of. I've been good about going three days a week. I've been good, mostly, about doing everything BB tells me to. I've even been eating especially healthy these days, as to maximize the results of my hard work at the gym. It's been over a month and while I can tell a difference in some muscle tone, which is nice, my net weight loss = nada.

Now, I'm not saying I want to be super skinny because I don't. I know my genetics and body type and I'm not cut out to be a size 4. Which is perfectly okay with me, because I'm not a big fan of the twiggy look. I'll pass on Paris Hilton's physique in favor of Kate Winslet a la Titanic any day.

But, at 5'2" and 145 lbs, there's more of me than there ought to be. *sigh* I'm not asking to suddenly lose twenty pounds overnight, but after a month of working out, is a few pounds too much to ask for?

1st Date, Round 2

A couple days ago, this was tagged onto the end of an e-mail from Comic Book Guy:
So, tell me...do you think we're approaching the boundaries of email conversation here? I mean, clearly we're getting to know each other, but I'm thinking we might be able to spin out more topics in person.

Also, at this point I'd really like to hear your spoken voice, because the written one has definitely sparked my interest in the mind behind it :)

I asked Comic Book Guy what he had in mind, and he said whatever I wanted to do, which is a lame, but Amanda wasn't surprised. "He's very accommodating," she said, "He just wants to please you."

"But, it's so wussy."

"Yeah, but now it means you can do whatever you want to do. So, what do you want to do?"

"Well, there is one thing..."

"What?"

"About a year ago I went to this big arcade with my brother and it was goofy and fun."

"Then do that."

We're on for Saturday and I think it's interesting that things with Comic Book Guy are already so incredibly different from how things went with Army Guy. This first date will be at a sprawling arcade instead of a fancy steakhouse and I'm looking forward to it rather than dreading it. Funny, huh?

Portrait of Mis Hermano

Only a week or so after I had this plan to post a photo each weekend, and I goof on the timing. *Sigh* Here's this weekend's late picture.

My brother's currently touring Europe, and I'm missing him. So, this week's photo is of him. This one is another from the Mexico trip. During that trip I kept taking photos of my brother facing away from me and of stray dogs. Not sure how I got on the first riff, but I think it started with this photo. While not a high ranking favorite, I like the layout in this picture. The wall was just the right height for him to look over and both the wall itself and the house are interesting to me.

Like An Old Married Couple

Yesterday night I met up with some writer friends (we've got a standing coffee date on the 2nd Monday of the month) and invited Amanda to join us. She's stressed out and I knew she needed to get out of the house and be social - hilarious, that I can say that about her, talk about role reversal.

So, at the coffee shop, we've all arrived and it's not too long before Amanda says to the others, "So, has Ali told you about Comic Book Guy?"

Writer friend: What happened to Army Guy?
Amanda: Oh, he's not in the picture any more. He was only interested in one thing, if you know what I mean.

Then she launches into telling the whole story. I have to keep butting in as she goes, to say things like, "No, no. That's not the way it went. This is how it really happened..."

And so the story about Comic Book Guy unfolded in stereo. My writer friends were highly entertained by the two-woman show, save for The Guy, (he was acting weird last night anyway, and now is dating a gal with the same given name as me, which I find unsettling. At least I go by a nickname instead of my given name, 'cause otherwise I'd really be creeped out).

It was like something out of a sitcom. We were our own two-woman show.

Must Be *This* Tall to Ride

Got caught in a traffic jam yesterday on my way home from the airport. I'm sitting in the car, listening to the radio, trying not to watch the clock on the dashboard, and I notice the SUV beside me. A couple of teenage boys, maybe 13/14 are hanging out the window looking around. I give them a friendly smile.

About half a mile later, after shuffling around a bit, me and the SUV are even again. One of the boys holds out a notebook toward me. In big black letters is written, "What's your number?"

I laughed really hard, smiled, shook my head, and pulled off on my exit to meet Amanda for dinner. Sorry boys, but I have a strict rule about dating anyone young enough to get me thrown into jail for statutory rape.

Let's Be Honest

On the dating website I subscribe to, there is a list. As you look at profiles, if you are uninterested in someone you select a reason from this list. The options are vague, like "religious differences" or "not a good fit." I understand the need to be nice in creating reasons for rejection, but sometimes I wish the list was a little more specific. Sometimes "not a good fit" doesn't really say it. On occasion, it'd be nice to have options like:

• He's 30 and still lives with his MOM
• Seems like a psycho
• Clearly has his head stuck up his posterior
• Thinks he's God's gift to women
• Wrote his profile in ALL CAPS!
• Can't write intelligibly
  
• Thinks being unemployed is cool
• Not sure why, but he gives me a creepy, creepy vibe
• Seems like a pervert
• Man whore
  
• Alcoholic
• Chauvinist

I'm sure y'all can think of many others to add on top of that ;)

One in Half a Million Chance

I'm wiggin' out a little bit. It's all about Comic Book Guy. I just keep thinking about numbers and odds, and it's totally surreal. Here goes.

Me: So, I found another guy on the website.
Amanda: Ooh! What's his name?
Me: Comic Book Guy.
Amanda: For real? I've got a friend named that. He's the one I want to set you up with. Man, I haven't talked to him in forever. What's his last name?
Me: Dunno, the website doesn't list last names.
Amanda: What's he look like?

I describe him. Then Amanda asks me for every single other bit of information in his profile. She keeps saying, "Uh huh. Yeah. That sounds right." Then she e-mails me a picture of her friend.

Me: Dude, that's totally him.
Amanda: Oh, you definitely need to date him. He's such a nice guy.

That's right. I've gotten three real responses off the website, Army Guy and Comic Book Guy being two of them, and out of a city of 400,000+ people, it just so happens that the one guy with Comic Book Guy's name just so happens to be the exact same guy Amanda mentioned to me a couple weeks ago. Weird. Way fucking weird.

Comic Book Guy

Got a bite on the website. Made it to the e-mail exchange part, and the guy - henceforth known as Comic Book Guy - has already sent me an e-mail.

I'm not sure about Comic Book Guy. His pictures aren't that great and he seems a bit more introverted than what I'm looking for - I'm introverted, so it'd be best to have a guy who's more outgoing so we could balance each other out. On the plus side, he seems smart, his response times are fast (so, he's keen on me), and he's got a geek streak which I have a soft spot for (in moderation).

At this point, I'm not all a-flutter, but I keep reminding myself about Constance and her husband and the advantage of giving a guy a chance. Besides, I'm just trying the shoes on, I don't have to buy them.

Girly Win

Went to lunch with Amanda. I picked her up on campus after her class (she's psyched to be only a student this summer) and she was wearing a simple T-shirt and jeans. I had on a nice top, dark jeans, and wedge-heel sandals.

"Good God," she said, "you look nicer than me today."

Online Selection: Deal Breakers

The dating website has yet to offer up a new guy. But, I keep checking my new matches and sorting them into active vs. "not gonna happen." I'm trying to be open-minded in my selection. I remember Amanda's show analogy - just try him on. I do, however, have some deal-breakers.

Automatic No:
Guys who live with their parents (Yeah, I know there can be extenuating circumstances and all that, but I just can't.)
Guys who are hard core religious (I can't stand being evangelized, and any guy who says that it's important for his match to have a personal relationship with Jesus just isn't going to work for me.)
Guys with no photo (To me, this says one of a few things, none of which I want: married, ugly, or self-conscious.)

Otherwise, I'm negotiable. Automatic Yes: Guys with a dog.

Blues Riff

Here are some pictures from my road trip.

This girl, probably three years-old, was one of the Kachina dancers we saw. She was totally adorable and danced every dance, whether she was supposed to or not.

A door on one of the adobe buildings.

The church. I'm not a religious person, but I couldn't resist the white wash against the adobe and blue sky. I think I may print this shot as an 8x10 and give it to my mom (who is a religious person).

Love Stories

I like hearing the stories about how my friends met their spouses. The stories make me optimistic about eventually meeting someone who's right for me. They make me optimistic that sometimes, when it's supposed to work out, it does.

My mom:
"The first time your dad and I dated, I broke up with him. He just wasn't ready. I dated other people. He dated other people. Then, after a while, we dated each other again. He was ready that time."

There's a bartender I worked with:
"I dated a lot of women before I met my wife." He'd pause to look at me, making sure I understood, and reiterate, "A lot of women. It took me a long time to find the right one."

A friend:
"I met my husband when I was forty, and I know I wasn't ready to meet him until then. I was always looking for the wrong guy when I was younger and wouldn't have looked at him twice. Now we've been married for ten years, and he makes me happier than I've ever been."

Another friend:
"On our first date, my husband spilled iced tea all over me."

Amanda:
"The first time I met my husband, I was so mean to him."

Then, during my road trip the past couple of days, I got to hear more about my friend Constance's story. I've heard it before, but there were more details as we rode in the car for a few hours to get to our destination. The Cliff's Notes version:

She started working for her now-hubby when she was 22 and he was 38. He was interested in her right off, but he was her boss, much older, short, and not the hottest of guys. She blew him off in favor of a younger guy who was in a bluegrass band. The now-hubby pretty much took it in stride and waited. He also continued to help her out where he could and look out for her. Then, one day at an out-of-town concert, the musician told Constance he'd just met this hot gal and he really wanted to have sex with her, so they should all have a threesome. Constance's reaction was, "Are you shitting me?" She started dating her now-husband within the week. This was eighteen years ago.

It's a good story with respect to the arbitrary/superficial criteria people sometimes have. On paper, Constance's husband is absolutely not what she thought she wanted. But, at the end of the day, he's the guy who ended up being perfect for her. The musician treated her like dirt, and the older guy treated her like a queen. The threesome incident was a wake-up call that made her re-evaluate her priorities.

During the story, one of her comments was, "He was not what I was looking for. He was anything but. But, the first time I kissed him, the fireworks went off. My brain resisted, but my whole body knew. Before that, whenever I would think about my dream guy, he didn't have a face. After that, whenever I thought about my dream guy, he had my husband's face."