So I think that this project is dead.
Here is my brief explanation.
This summer was amazing. One of the best summers of my life.
I found someone during this time, hence why I stopped writing witty entries about single life.
Then he dumped me rather out of the blue.
I am not ready to date right now.
I am not ready to write witty entries about being single.
I am ready to move on, but I don't think this blog will help.
If you're still interested in what I've been doing- I am now writing for the Ethos Blog.
Thanks for the laughs. It's been real.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Blog Updates - Semester One
Things have been hectic for the past, well let’s just say long while, so I haven’t been on any new dates for a while. However, I am back! Yes you heard it I am back! That is, until I disappear again.
Now I love the idea that everything works in a cyclical manner. I love having neatly tied up endings and I like settling my human curiosity. I have been on roughly thirteen dates give or take a few and I think now is a safe point to explain what all of my suitors have been up to!
Date Number One:
I, not surprisingly, have seen him several times around campus. He shadows the halls of my frequented locations. However, he uses these opportunities to ignore me. How polite!
Date Number Two:
I had been hearing rumors about a kid making bombs in Helser and I just found out that they arrested...
Kidding! I’m sure that he has retreated in some way to work on growing his hair and manufacturing some illicit substance.
Date Number Three-Four and a Half:
While I e-mailed one of these men several times, nothing ever happened. In fact, I don’t remember what he looks like so if he decides to greet me on campus, I am going to be one of those rude people. You know who they are.
Date Five:
No idea what happened to him. I think he’s probably still drinking a lot and making sandwiches.
Date Six:
I had a few awkward encounters with Date Five after I stopped talking to him. My Yental PIC organized a BBQ during VEISHEA. While Date Five was not invited officially, he still declared himself to be attending the public event. He then invited
other people to come to the event. Well he arrived and I pretty much was rude and blew him off.
While that was completely wrong of me, sometimes the energy people give off can send a somewhat reliable clue of how the person actually is. I was just a tad bit creeped out by him, so I justified by avoidance.
Spring Break Dates:
I never could find Abliene on Facebook so I hope that he graduated high school.
Canada never accepted my friend request, but I like to imagine that he and his father are out scouting for tail somewhere in the world.
Both Dallas and Florida graduated from high school.
Austin found a very adorable girlfriend.
Both Austin and Dallas are traveling around Europe right now.
WW seems to be putzing around and enjoying life.
Date Ten:
I found out that Date Ten was trying to me and one of my pals. I was not cool with this. She was not cool with this. We were not cool with this. Needless to say I just kind of blew him off after that. However, he still likes things on my Facebook and he still likes things on her Facebook.
Note:
I completely apologize for both the lateness and the lameness of these entries. I will be doing a better job in the future. Right now I am in a course wherein I have class from 9-5, get back to my room, read 60 or so pages, work on projects and write. Needless to say my time is incredibly limited right now. Luckily my sleep issues are being used to their advantage!
I promise I am sitting on some good material! It will all come within a week. However, until then you will have to attempt to enjoy the regurgitated words that I felt implied to spit up all over this blog.
Now I love the idea that everything works in a cyclical manner. I love having neatly tied up endings and I like settling my human curiosity. I have been on roughly thirteen dates give or take a few and I think now is a safe point to explain what all of my suitors have been up to!
Date Number One:
I, not surprisingly, have seen him several times around campus. He shadows the halls of my frequented locations. However, he uses these opportunities to ignore me. How polite!
Date Number Two:
I had been hearing rumors about a kid making bombs in Helser and I just found out that they arrested...
Kidding! I’m sure that he has retreated in some way to work on growing his hair and manufacturing some illicit substance.
Date Number Three-Four and a Half:
While I e-mailed one of these men several times, nothing ever happened. In fact, I don’t remember what he looks like so if he decides to greet me on campus, I am going to be one of those rude people. You know who they are.
Date Five:
No idea what happened to him. I think he’s probably still drinking a lot and making sandwiches.
Date Six:
I had a few awkward encounters with Date Five after I stopped talking to him. My Yental PIC organized a BBQ during VEISHEA. While Date Five was not invited officially, he still declared himself to be attending the public event. He then invited
other people to come to the event. Well he arrived and I pretty much was rude and blew him off.
While that was completely wrong of me, sometimes the energy people give off can send a somewhat reliable clue of how the person actually is. I was just a tad bit creeped out by him, so I justified by avoidance.
Spring Break Dates:
I never could find Abliene on Facebook so I hope that he graduated high school.
Canada never accepted my friend request, but I like to imagine that he and his father are out scouting for tail somewhere in the world.
Both Dallas and Florida graduated from high school.
Austin found a very adorable girlfriend.
Both Austin and Dallas are traveling around Europe right now.
WW seems to be putzing around and enjoying life.
Date Ten:
I found out that Date Ten was trying to me and one of my pals. I was not cool with this. She was not cool with this. We were not cool with this. Needless to say I just kind of blew him off after that. However, he still likes things on my Facebook and he still likes things on her Facebook.
Note:
I completely apologize for both the lateness and the lameness of these entries. I will be doing a better job in the future. Right now I am in a course wherein I have class from 9-5, get back to my room, read 60 or so pages, work on projects and write. Needless to say my time is incredibly limited right now. Luckily my sleep issues are being used to their advantage!
I promise I am sitting on some good material! It will all come within a week. However, until then you will have to attempt to enjoy the regurgitated words that I felt implied to spit up all over this blog.
Pop Cultural Meltdown!
Introduction
As you all may well tell, I love pop culture. I am a junkie who has grown fat off of fluffy pilots and cheesy sequels. I figured I might as well use this love to express my feelings for another love. If you don’t know what that love is, please refer to the title of the blog.
A few weeks ago, I watched Scott Pilgrim vs. The World. I thought it was a great movie. It was completely entertaining and filled with a fun carbonated action exhibited by only the most caffeinated of films. I say this to stipulate my next statement: I really hated the character of Scott Pilgrim.
The Brave Man-Baby
Michael Cera is one of those actors who can only play one role. This singular role makes up the commonly seen character of the Brave Man-Baby. These men are whiners, seen lamenting the horrible wrongs done to him by the she-devil who broke his heart, apparently without a cause. However, the man often is able to alleviate his heartbreak because of the Prilosec offered through a young woman, who is often a Manic Pixie Girl.
While these women are often lusted after by many men, they always seem to chose the brave man-baby. They do this even though the gentleman in question has nothing to offer but factoids about misbegotten pop cultural festishes, shitty guitar solos and a perfectly floppy haircut. The woman is always out of the Brave Man-Baby’s league. However, the Brave Man-Baby is able to do one thing in order to win the woman of his dreams.
This act is simply being brave. The Brave Man-Baby is often slightly nerdy and apparently defenseless. However, the woman in question is badass and full of verve. The Brave Man-Baby must prove his worthiness to his lady as a token of his love, just like in the days of King Arthur. This act can be anything from killing zombies, killing exes, or killing self-consciousness. After the feat of bravery is completed, the woman takes this as a token and gallops into the arms of her new lover.
So I have several problems with this emerging character. The primary problem I have is that these women are better than the men who seek them, but after one measly showing that they are able to fend for themselves, they jump the man’s bones.
So What?
Why can’t badass women simply be badass without a man chasing after them? Why must they have to become more sensitive through the actions of the Brave Man-Baby? What does he have to offer her except for the chance to become more feminized? And why is the idea of this young woman being androgynous so terrifying?
But...
Now I am still developing this idea. So bear with me as I try to pin down a proper archetype. Once I really nail it, I’ll update this post.
As you all may well tell, I love pop culture. I am a junkie who has grown fat off of fluffy pilots and cheesy sequels. I figured I might as well use this love to express my feelings for another love. If you don’t know what that love is, please refer to the title of the blog.
A few weeks ago, I watched Scott Pilgrim vs. The World. I thought it was a great movie. It was completely entertaining and filled with a fun carbonated action exhibited by only the most caffeinated of films. I say this to stipulate my next statement: I really hated the character of Scott Pilgrim.
The Brave Man-Baby
Michael Cera is one of those actors who can only play one role. This singular role makes up the commonly seen character of the Brave Man-Baby. These men are whiners, seen lamenting the horrible wrongs done to him by the she-devil who broke his heart, apparently without a cause. However, the man often is able to alleviate his heartbreak because of the Prilosec offered through a young woman, who is often a Manic Pixie Girl.
While these women are often lusted after by many men, they always seem to chose the brave man-baby. They do this even though the gentleman in question has nothing to offer but factoids about misbegotten pop cultural festishes, shitty guitar solos and a perfectly floppy haircut. The woman is always out of the Brave Man-Baby’s league. However, the Brave Man-Baby is able to do one thing in order to win the woman of his dreams.
This act is simply being brave. The Brave Man-Baby is often slightly nerdy and apparently defenseless. However, the woman in question is badass and full of verve. The Brave Man-Baby must prove his worthiness to his lady as a token of his love, just like in the days of King Arthur. This act can be anything from killing zombies, killing exes, or killing self-consciousness. After the feat of bravery is completed, the woman takes this as a token and gallops into the arms of her new lover.
So I have several problems with this emerging character. The primary problem I have is that these women are better than the men who seek them, but after one measly showing that they are able to fend for themselves, they jump the man’s bones.
So What?
Why can’t badass women simply be badass without a man chasing after them? Why must they have to become more sensitive through the actions of the Brave Man-Baby? What does he have to offer her except for the chance to become more feminized? And why is the idea of this young woman being androgynous so terrifying?
But...
Now I am still developing this idea. So bear with me as I try to pin down a proper archetype. Once I really nail it, I’ll update this post.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Date 13
A Brief Excuse
First of all, I apologize for not keeping up with my writing. I know none of you really care so this is more of an apology to myself.
Lately I have been busy traveling across the state. Busying myself with distractions to maintain the well-earned distance from the hurricane that is my mother in her graduation-planning mode. I have ventured to Iowa City, Osceola, Ames and Independence. Finally when I had no money left for gas, as I had spent all of my extra money going out to eat and doing things to my hair, I stayed home to bake weird varieties of cookies. Slowly sinking into the depressive abyss that is my home, I dug myself into the novel "Infinite Jest" as well as the horrific foreign films and art house documentaries Netflix would suggest. This only deepened my will to break the world record for the longest time spent in the corpse pose. Hence the need to travel and to busy myself with the weird baking.
Needless to say I have not written a lick in the past few weeks. I have attempted and I have been incredibly distracted.
Okay tangent over. On to the “date”
The Plans
Sometimes people have great ideas. Sometimes people have great, creative ideas but are not brave enough to commit. Sometimes people have great, creative ideas and are brave enough to commit. This is a tale of two ideas- one idea with no supporting confidence and another idea with a vim and vigor.
The boy calls me several times trying to hang out. I have an incredibly busy week and am ultimately not interested in wasting my time by watching a movie. I am also horrified by his proposition to workout during a study break. While I do enjoy working out, I like to do so in the privacy and comfort of my own home or in public at such ungodly hours no one can see my figure doing a duck-run.
Eventually he figures out my hectic weekday schedule and asks if he can make dinner for me on the weekend. I already have plans on Friday night. We agree to meet up on Saturday and he suggests making dinner for me. I think that this sounds like a wonderful idea. We agree to this idea and I anticipate our meeting on Saturday.
The "Date"- or Whatever
Saturday arrives and as usual I am spending my day by watching Hulu and not leaving the comfort my bed offers. I laze about until the evening at which time Yental Grandma texts me and asks if I have plans. As I have not heard any confirming messages from the boy I tentatively say yes to her plans. At around six or seven he finally calls me. He asks me what I want to do. It is at this moment I question whether he remembers the initial plans he had made. After a few minutes of painful telephone conversation he asks if I have already eaten and offers to heat up leftovers. This sounds less appealing than my potential dinner of Easy Mac, so I tell him that I am fine. After a few more minutes of awkward conversation we agree to meet in twenty minutes outside at the basketball courts. We have made no definitive plans and it doesn’t seem like any real plans will be made within the course of the evening.
I arrive to the basketball courts about fifteen late. Because he does not put in the effort to make and commit to plans, I return the favor. I meet him and graciously apologize for being late. We then stop by his apartment to grab his golf clubs and we go out.
Now I am not a golfer. I have never played the game and the only thing I know about the sport is that it is a good walk spoiled. While I’m glad that we’re actually doing something, I get bored quickly. He does not have the patience to give me a full lesson and seems more interested in putting around with the ball than talking to me.
Eventually he senses my weariness and we head back to his place. On the way back he tells me he is so happy to hang out with me because he has been dealing with a lot of personal issues lately. I listen to him while contemplating how I can abandon him without feeling too guilty.
We get back to his place and I confirm my plans with Yental Grandma. We decided to climb trees and urban explore our campus. I tell the boy what is going on in case he wants to come with me. He likes the idea but we have an hour before we are supposed to meet the rest of the group. So we awkwardly sit together in his room and watch YouTube videos while sipping on Mountain Dew. Yes, this date is so romantic I just want to die.
When it is finally late enough to meet everyone we head on our way. However, we can’t do this before the boy gets his bicycle. I love biking. However, I do not have my bicycle at school because of the incredibly long winter and the things that winter does to lovely bicycles. I tell him this. I also tell him that we’re going to be wandering a lot so a bicycle is not a good idea. However, he does not listen to me. So while he rides I must walk beside him. This is a very painful process. I awkwardly walk alone and he rides ahead of me, unsure of where to go. We finally get to our meeting spot and no one else is there. We wait for twenty minutes and people finally show up.
Once reunited with everyone we wander around campus, but not before the boy takes a five-minute detour to go back and unlock his bicycle. We wander around and find buildings to climb and explore and do a lot of awesome things. At each and every spot however, the boy must find a place for his bicycle to be properly locked and when we leave he must take five minutes to unlock it. I, obviously, start to become a little annoyed. Nonetheless we end up on the roof of a building and later in a giant lecture hall with a huge screen, perfect for watching movies. We stay there until I get tired. We exit the hall and see a couple having a lovely intimate time (yes, that kind of intimate) in a very public area. He then walks me home on his bicycle we bid one another an awkward goodbye as he tells he how beautiful I am and whatnot and then head on our own separate ways.
Grade of Date: ? This is like the last time we hung out. I made the plans and ended up spontaneously doing something awesome. However, his plans for the evening evidently did not exist and this fact brings the grade of the date down to failing. However, the evening was so much fun because of the stuff I did with my pals the activities he had "planned" didn't even matter.
Grade of Match: C- Yeah, we're not a match. Not at all.
First of all, I apologize for not keeping up with my writing. I know none of you really care so this is more of an apology to myself.
Lately I have been busy traveling across the state. Busying myself with distractions to maintain the well-earned distance from the hurricane that is my mother in her graduation-planning mode. I have ventured to Iowa City, Osceola, Ames and Independence. Finally when I had no money left for gas, as I had spent all of my extra money going out to eat and doing things to my hair, I stayed home to bake weird varieties of cookies. Slowly sinking into the depressive abyss that is my home, I dug myself into the novel "Infinite Jest" as well as the horrific foreign films and art house documentaries Netflix would suggest. This only deepened my will to break the world record for the longest time spent in the corpse pose. Hence the need to travel and to busy myself with the weird baking.
Needless to say I have not written a lick in the past few weeks. I have attempted and I have been incredibly distracted.
Okay tangent over. On to the “date”
The Plans
Sometimes people have great ideas. Sometimes people have great, creative ideas but are not brave enough to commit. Sometimes people have great, creative ideas and are brave enough to commit. This is a tale of two ideas- one idea with no supporting confidence and another idea with a vim and vigor.
The boy calls me several times trying to hang out. I have an incredibly busy week and am ultimately not interested in wasting my time by watching a movie. I am also horrified by his proposition to workout during a study break. While I do enjoy working out, I like to do so in the privacy and comfort of my own home or in public at such ungodly hours no one can see my figure doing a duck-run.
Eventually he figures out my hectic weekday schedule and asks if he can make dinner for me on the weekend. I already have plans on Friday night. We agree to meet up on Saturday and he suggests making dinner for me. I think that this sounds like a wonderful idea. We agree to this idea and I anticipate our meeting on Saturday.
The "Date"- or Whatever
Saturday arrives and as usual I am spending my day by watching Hulu and not leaving the comfort my bed offers. I laze about until the evening at which time Yental Grandma texts me and asks if I have plans. As I have not heard any confirming messages from the boy I tentatively say yes to her plans. At around six or seven he finally calls me. He asks me what I want to do. It is at this moment I question whether he remembers the initial plans he had made. After a few minutes of painful telephone conversation he asks if I have already eaten and offers to heat up leftovers. This sounds less appealing than my potential dinner of Easy Mac, so I tell him that I am fine. After a few more minutes of awkward conversation we agree to meet in twenty minutes outside at the basketball courts. We have made no definitive plans and it doesn’t seem like any real plans will be made within the course of the evening.
I arrive to the basketball courts about fifteen late. Because he does not put in the effort to make and commit to plans, I return the favor. I meet him and graciously apologize for being late. We then stop by his apartment to grab his golf clubs and we go out.
Now I am not a golfer. I have never played the game and the only thing I know about the sport is that it is a good walk spoiled. While I’m glad that we’re actually doing something, I get bored quickly. He does not have the patience to give me a full lesson and seems more interested in putting around with the ball than talking to me.
Eventually he senses my weariness and we head back to his place. On the way back he tells me he is so happy to hang out with me because he has been dealing with a lot of personal issues lately. I listen to him while contemplating how I can abandon him without feeling too guilty.
We get back to his place and I confirm my plans with Yental Grandma. We decided to climb trees and urban explore our campus. I tell the boy what is going on in case he wants to come with me. He likes the idea but we have an hour before we are supposed to meet the rest of the group. So we awkwardly sit together in his room and watch YouTube videos while sipping on Mountain Dew. Yes, this date is so romantic I just want to die.
When it is finally late enough to meet everyone we head on our way. However, we can’t do this before the boy gets his bicycle. I love biking. However, I do not have my bicycle at school because of the incredibly long winter and the things that winter does to lovely bicycles. I tell him this. I also tell him that we’re going to be wandering a lot so a bicycle is not a good idea. However, he does not listen to me. So while he rides I must walk beside him. This is a very painful process. I awkwardly walk alone and he rides ahead of me, unsure of where to go. We finally get to our meeting spot and no one else is there. We wait for twenty minutes and people finally show up.
Once reunited with everyone we wander around campus, but not before the boy takes a five-minute detour to go back and unlock his bicycle. We wander around and find buildings to climb and explore and do a lot of awesome things. At each and every spot however, the boy must find a place for his bicycle to be properly locked and when we leave he must take five minutes to unlock it. I, obviously, start to become a little annoyed. Nonetheless we end up on the roof of a building and later in a giant lecture hall with a huge screen, perfect for watching movies. We stay there until I get tired. We exit the hall and see a couple having a lovely intimate time (yes, that kind of intimate) in a very public area. He then walks me home on his bicycle we bid one another an awkward goodbye as he tells he how beautiful I am and whatnot and then head on our own separate ways.
Grade of Date: ? This is like the last time we hung out. I made the plans and ended up spontaneously doing something awesome. However, his plans for the evening evidently did not exist and this fact brings the grade of the date down to failing. However, the evening was so much fun because of the stuff I did with my pals the activities he had "planned" didn't even matter.
Grade of Match: C- Yeah, we're not a match. Not at all.
Monday, May 16, 2011
College Dating Seminar: The Airplane Rule
Millenials are constantly connected to various forms of media. You’ve heard it, I’ve heard it, we’ve all heard it – we are supposedly addicted to technology. While your own beliefs may differ from these allegations, I think it is fair to say that technology has changed the dating game, as I addressed in my first “Seminar in College Dating” post (Oh I am being so meta tonight!).
However, this technology not only changes the predating flirting game, it also alters face-to-face interactions. Most people don’t just have a conversation anymore: they multitask. They will talk while checking their Facebook notifications every two seconds. They will watch a movie with you while simultaneously looking at their phone for new text messages. They usually will just do something to divert their total attention away from you.
We do this all the time. In most circumstances this behavior is perfectly acceptable. When you’re just chilling with buds and no one is talking, mostly. Or when you’re put in a really awkward situation. Technology acts as both a conversation catalyst and an awkward buffer. However, this does not make this behavior acceptable during dates.
The Airplane Rule
This is why I propose “The Airplane Rule” which is as follows: When you are socializing, especially on a date, all electronics need to be turned off and properly stowed. This means no getting out computers, no phones should be left on any flat surfaces in front of my face, no iPods should be touched.
Some might say that this rule is harsh. However, the technology really forces people to divert their attention away from one another and onto an object. Technology ultimately deludes the entire purpose of a date. It conveys to the person, who is not checking their device, that they are not worth the checker’s time. When you continually check your phone, your mind is not with your date, but rather with the friends you are messaging. When you constantly check the time on your device, it sends the message that your time is being wasted by this human being.
When you are socializing, or dating, or whatever, it is important to gain a personal bond. This is an already challenging task. However, it is far more difficult when the divider of technology is placed between daters. When the limited attention we actually have is not focused on the person we need it to be focused on, but rather some object, we cannot develop a great relationship. This is because we are unable to lend the proper attention the relationship needs to bloom and blossom.
There are more problems with technology than the question of simple courtesy. When you are trying to get to know someone or spend time with just them, why should you add your 500 Facebook friends in? Why do you want to invite your roommates and best friends on your romantic date? While we live in an incredibly public world, it is still nice to keep intimate moments, intimate. I mean the last thing anyone wants is for their mother to end up in the bedroom because she called at that perfectly wrong time.
This rule can be broken during two circumstances. The first is when there is a family emergency. The second is when there are dinner reservations or you are driving a long distance. And obviously, safety should always be a consideration.
I’m not saying that technology is bad. I obviously think that it holds a place in college dating. Just not during the date.
So leave your phones, iPods, iPads, Gameboys and anything with an on/off switch behind. It’s going to be a long ride.
*Note: I realize that I liberally used the "generic you" throughout this entry.
However, this technology not only changes the predating flirting game, it also alters face-to-face interactions. Most people don’t just have a conversation anymore: they multitask. They will talk while checking their Facebook notifications every two seconds. They will watch a movie with you while simultaneously looking at their phone for new text messages. They usually will just do something to divert their total attention away from you.
We do this all the time. In most circumstances this behavior is perfectly acceptable. When you’re just chilling with buds and no one is talking, mostly. Or when you’re put in a really awkward situation. Technology acts as both a conversation catalyst and an awkward buffer. However, this does not make this behavior acceptable during dates.
The Airplane Rule
This is why I propose “The Airplane Rule” which is as follows: When you are socializing, especially on a date, all electronics need to be turned off and properly stowed. This means no getting out computers, no phones should be left on any flat surfaces in front of my face, no iPods should be touched.
Some might say that this rule is harsh. However, the technology really forces people to divert their attention away from one another and onto an object. Technology ultimately deludes the entire purpose of a date. It conveys to the person, who is not checking their device, that they are not worth the checker’s time. When you continually check your phone, your mind is not with your date, but rather with the friends you are messaging. When you constantly check the time on your device, it sends the message that your time is being wasted by this human being.
When you are socializing, or dating, or whatever, it is important to gain a personal bond. This is an already challenging task. However, it is far more difficult when the divider of technology is placed between daters. When the limited attention we actually have is not focused on the person we need it to be focused on, but rather some object, we cannot develop a great relationship. This is because we are unable to lend the proper attention the relationship needs to bloom and blossom.
There are more problems with technology than the question of simple courtesy. When you are trying to get to know someone or spend time with just them, why should you add your 500 Facebook friends in? Why do you want to invite your roommates and best friends on your romantic date? While we live in an incredibly public world, it is still nice to keep intimate moments, intimate. I mean the last thing anyone wants is for their mother to end up in the bedroom because she called at that perfectly wrong time.
This rule can be broken during two circumstances. The first is when there is a family emergency. The second is when there are dinner reservations or you are driving a long distance. And obviously, safety should always be a consideration.
I’m not saying that technology is bad. I obviously think that it holds a place in college dating. Just not during the date.
So leave your phones, iPods, iPads, Gameboys and anything with an on/off switch behind. It’s going to be a long ride.
*Note: I realize that I liberally used the "generic you" throughout this entry.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Date Twelve
Date 12
A dirty dozen! Gee whiz! Golly wolly! I should buy myself some flowers and pretend that I’ve actually found a significant other in celebration!
Okay, okay you don’t want to hear about that, so I will get onto the intimate details of my incredibly nonexistent love life.
The Set-Up
I am an incredibly busy young woman. I have to juggle class (and the enormous amount of reading that comes with those), various clubs and organizations, leadership positions, oh, and friends as well. In order for me to make confirmed plans with someone, I have to know ahead of time so that person is able to fit into an appropriate block within my crazy schedule. This often means that when I’m hanging out with a person I have to make plans for our next meeting when I am with them. If they wait I usually already have plans.
I say all of this to explain why and how the Monday lunch and subsequent excursion were planned and therefore worked out. I had plans, well in advance, to see these Chinese acrobats. I wasn’t going to be making any special efforts for any extra persons. I just wanted to see some very flexible people spin twenty plates on their heads.
However, the dude wants to hang out that evening. I am never one to say no to reasonable requests. Although I fall for reasonable requests, I am also not one to really exert much effort for an unexpected guest. So as I mentioned last time, I agree to pick him up at the community center at 7:40.
The Date (or whatever)
After agreeing to pick the dude up twenty minutes before the show, I get a text from my Yental PIC that the auditorium is filling up and I better get there stat. I oblige, but I am unable to find my keys. I wish that this experience was more atypical, but losing and scavenging for my keys happens very regularly. This naturally delays me in my attempt to be early so I show up right on the originally planned time. I then go and pick up a few other friends who also want to see a group of Chinese people do some crazy shit.
We arrive at the auditorium and we become easily distracted by some Indian dance club. We play with their sticks and attempt the fancy moves, but cannot master them in the brief ten minutes we spend at their booth. We eventually make our way to find seats. However, the entire theater is crowded so we have to sit in the back.
Then the show starts. I want to see some Chinese people attempt some crazy feats and boy, my wish was granted. During the show the dude doesn’t really talk, and the few things he does say are about the amazing athleticism of the acrobats. Like in almost any situation, I try to make a joke about this, but it just doesn’t translate. There is an intermission and we scurry up to get some seats that are closer. My date exits during this time, the only time in which we could actually have a conversation, to answer a phone call. He comes back and we watch the second act, which is even more awesomely insane than the first act. Plus because we’re closer we can see the looks of horror on the performers’ faces.
After the show is over, I try to meet up with Yental PIC, but the venue is so crowded we boogie out as soon as we can. The boy asks me if I have any plans after the show. I tell him yes, but they involve me studying for the (no joke) four exams I have that week as well as writing the two essays also due that week.
If the boy is disappointed, he doesn’t show it. After I drop my other buddies off, he tells me how much he likes my hair. He then awkwardly tells me how beautiful I am. I drop him off at his apartment and go on my merry way to dominate some essays.
Grade of Date A- (The reason why this is an A- is because I didn’t really do anything
with him. In fact, the deduction comes from my date, himself, because the acrobats
were freaking incredible and they get an A+)
Grade of Match C (I am very clearly the first creature with ovaries who has paid
attention to this boy in a long time)
A dirty dozen! Gee whiz! Golly wolly! I should buy myself some flowers and pretend that I’ve actually found a significant other in celebration!
Okay, okay you don’t want to hear about that, so I will get onto the intimate details of my incredibly nonexistent love life.
The Set-Up
I am an incredibly busy young woman. I have to juggle class (and the enormous amount of reading that comes with those), various clubs and organizations, leadership positions, oh, and friends as well. In order for me to make confirmed plans with someone, I have to know ahead of time so that person is able to fit into an appropriate block within my crazy schedule. This often means that when I’m hanging out with a person I have to make plans for our next meeting when I am with them. If they wait I usually already have plans.
I say all of this to explain why and how the Monday lunch and subsequent excursion were planned and therefore worked out. I had plans, well in advance, to see these Chinese acrobats. I wasn’t going to be making any special efforts for any extra persons. I just wanted to see some very flexible people spin twenty plates on their heads.
However, the dude wants to hang out that evening. I am never one to say no to reasonable requests. Although I fall for reasonable requests, I am also not one to really exert much effort for an unexpected guest. So as I mentioned last time, I agree to pick him up at the community center at 7:40.
The Date (or whatever)
After agreeing to pick the dude up twenty minutes before the show, I get a text from my Yental PIC that the auditorium is filling up and I better get there stat. I oblige, but I am unable to find my keys. I wish that this experience was more atypical, but losing and scavenging for my keys happens very regularly. This naturally delays me in my attempt to be early so I show up right on the originally planned time. I then go and pick up a few other friends who also want to see a group of Chinese people do some crazy shit.
We arrive at the auditorium and we become easily distracted by some Indian dance club. We play with their sticks and attempt the fancy moves, but cannot master them in the brief ten minutes we spend at their booth. We eventually make our way to find seats. However, the entire theater is crowded so we have to sit in the back.
Then the show starts. I want to see some Chinese people attempt some crazy feats and boy, my wish was granted. During the show the dude doesn’t really talk, and the few things he does say are about the amazing athleticism of the acrobats. Like in almost any situation, I try to make a joke about this, but it just doesn’t translate. There is an intermission and we scurry up to get some seats that are closer. My date exits during this time, the only time in which we could actually have a conversation, to answer a phone call. He comes back and we watch the second act, which is even more awesomely insane than the first act. Plus because we’re closer we can see the looks of horror on the performers’ faces.
After the show is over, I try to meet up with Yental PIC, but the venue is so crowded we boogie out as soon as we can. The boy asks me if I have any plans after the show. I tell him yes, but they involve me studying for the (no joke) four exams I have that week as well as writing the two essays also due that week.
If the boy is disappointed, he doesn’t show it. After I drop my other buddies off, he tells me how much he likes my hair. He then awkwardly tells me how beautiful I am. I drop him off at his apartment and go on my merry way to dominate some essays.
Grade of Date A- (The reason why this is an A- is because I didn’t really do anything
with him. In fact, the deduction comes from my date, himself, because the acrobats
were freaking incredible and they get an A+)
Grade of Match C (I am very clearly the first creature with ovaries who has paid
attention to this boy in a long time)
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Think Point One: The Dark Knight
Think Points
So I have been on enough dates in order to make some observations and a few analyses of dating behavior in college. Yes, these behaviors are very generalized. No, they do not apply to everyone. But, I think that they can provide some interesting discussion and some deeper reflection, even if these ideas don’t apply to you. Unlike the seminars, the think points will cover the types of people and more specific situations I have encountered while dating, not the general episodes one may encounter on the road to a college relationship. Also, the audience for the "think points" will be women who want heterosexual relationships. Sorry, everyone else.
The actual dark knight
Cloaked in a faced of chivalry, the dark knight performs every duty in the name of politeness. While this initially comes off as a charming characteristic that your future prince has, it is a quality that runs much deeper than a strength that might sweep you off of your feet. This chivalry is a power that the knight will hold above you in all situations. Although this may seem confusing and even contradictory, ultimately the shield of niceness the knight carries allows the man to be a complete and total douche bag.
Clarification
No, I am not saying this about every guy. I am not saying that all nice guys are like this, either. I realize that there are a lot of beautifully wonderful men out there who would never act nice just to gain power and control in a relationship. I am not talking about these men. I am talking about the guys who say they are the wonderful, nice guys, but in reality they are not. I am talking about the men who appear to be nice and are called nice but are jerks.
Definition:
The Dark Knight is a guy who will initially appear very nice. He will open the door for you and be nice to your friends. He’ll get to know your interests. He’ll always hold your honor in the highest of regards. All of his friends will probably say he is a nice guy. It is because he is mostly a nice guy. However, he is nice for the wrong reasons. He is only chivalrous and polite for two reasons. The first reason is to get into your pretty panties. He knows that playing the part of the nice guy will get him so far sexually. He is going to play that card and play that card as hard as he can. He does this because it’s one of his only moves, because really, he isn’t that bright or good looking.
The second reason is because he wants power. The shield of chivalry allows a constant concern for the partner. As the nice guy is always worried about his mate, he ends up controlling and manipulating his partner because he is concerned about her behavior and wants to prevent anything bad from happening from her. Not only does he want nothing bad to happen to her, he doesn't want her to do anything that might put the relationship in jeopardy. While this is normally pretty fair, he will do anything to thwart these things, often resorting to absurd actions. He will also attempt to limit her freedom in the process in the name of love.
Identification
It is very difficult to identify one of these beasts. Because these knights are so skilled in the art of disguise, they maintain the illusion of the nice guy at all times. However, there are a few ways in which to discover these creatures. The first is that the significant others constantly feel guilt. The second is a stream of contradictory behavior.
For example- this is a man who will not hang out with you during the day because he is “diligently studying”. He won’t be able to make any time for you. But when you have that major exam he suddenly “misses” you. Then you must drop everything and run to pay him the attention that he requires. This is the guy who won’t take you to dinner because he wants to take things slow because he is worried about your honor, but as soon as he is a little tipsy he will drunk dial you for a classy- ass booty call. This is the guy who will yell at you for getting too wild at a party because he is worried about your reputation. But at the same time he is doing shot for shot with the biggest guy at the party, turning himself into a human vomit-sprinkler.
What to do
Like with any aspect of dating, you just have to be careful. Ask yourself why this man is being nice. Is he nice because he is truly a nice guy, or is he just looking for something? This question is hard to ask, especially when you are smitten, but it is something that you should think about.
Again- NOT ALL NICE GUYS ARE THE DARK KNIGHT!! Some nice guys are just genuinely nice. However, a lot of tools are smart and pick up the mask of a sweet fool to get some.
ALSO - this is from MY experience. So don't get mad at me... please...
So I have been on enough dates in order to make some observations and a few analyses of dating behavior in college. Yes, these behaviors are very generalized. No, they do not apply to everyone. But, I think that they can provide some interesting discussion and some deeper reflection, even if these ideas don’t apply to you. Unlike the seminars, the think points will cover the types of people and more specific situations I have encountered while dating, not the general episodes one may encounter on the road to a college relationship. Also, the audience for the "think points" will be women who want heterosexual relationships. Sorry, everyone else.
The actual dark knight
Cloaked in a faced of chivalry, the dark knight performs every duty in the name of politeness. While this initially comes off as a charming characteristic that your future prince has, it is a quality that runs much deeper than a strength that might sweep you off of your feet. This chivalry is a power that the knight will hold above you in all situations. Although this may seem confusing and even contradictory, ultimately the shield of niceness the knight carries allows the man to be a complete and total douche bag.
Clarification
No, I am not saying this about every guy. I am not saying that all nice guys are like this, either. I realize that there are a lot of beautifully wonderful men out there who would never act nice just to gain power and control in a relationship. I am not talking about these men. I am talking about the guys who say they are the wonderful, nice guys, but in reality they are not. I am talking about the men who appear to be nice and are called nice but are jerks.
Definition:
The Dark Knight is a guy who will initially appear very nice. He will open the door for you and be nice to your friends. He’ll get to know your interests. He’ll always hold your honor in the highest of regards. All of his friends will probably say he is a nice guy. It is because he is mostly a nice guy. However, he is nice for the wrong reasons. He is only chivalrous and polite for two reasons. The first reason is to get into your pretty panties. He knows that playing the part of the nice guy will get him so far sexually. He is going to play that card and play that card as hard as he can. He does this because it’s one of his only moves, because really, he isn’t that bright or good looking.
The second reason is because he wants power. The shield of chivalry allows a constant concern for the partner. As the nice guy is always worried about his mate, he ends up controlling and manipulating his partner because he is concerned about her behavior and wants to prevent anything bad from happening from her. Not only does he want nothing bad to happen to her, he doesn't want her to do anything that might put the relationship in jeopardy. While this is normally pretty fair, he will do anything to thwart these things, often resorting to absurd actions. He will also attempt to limit her freedom in the process in the name of love.
Identification
It is very difficult to identify one of these beasts. Because these knights are so skilled in the art of disguise, they maintain the illusion of the nice guy at all times. However, there are a few ways in which to discover these creatures. The first is that the significant others constantly feel guilt. The second is a stream of contradictory behavior.
For example- this is a man who will not hang out with you during the day because he is “diligently studying”. He won’t be able to make any time for you. But when you have that major exam he suddenly “misses” you. Then you must drop everything and run to pay him the attention that he requires. This is the guy who won’t take you to dinner because he wants to take things slow because he is worried about your honor, but as soon as he is a little tipsy he will drunk dial you for a classy- ass booty call. This is the guy who will yell at you for getting too wild at a party because he is worried about your reputation. But at the same time he is doing shot for shot with the biggest guy at the party, turning himself into a human vomit-sprinkler.
What to do
Like with any aspect of dating, you just have to be careful. Ask yourself why this man is being nice. Is he nice because he is truly a nice guy, or is he just looking for something? This question is hard to ask, especially when you are smitten, but it is something that you should think about.
Again- NOT ALL NICE GUYS ARE THE DARK KNIGHT!! Some nice guys are just genuinely nice. However, a lot of tools are smart and pick up the mask of a sweet fool to get some.
ALSO - this is from MY experience. So don't get mad at me... please...
Date Eleven
The Set-Up
So this is my second, second date. I know I haven't written about dates for a bit, but I really haven't felt like it. Sorry, folks!
The boy is gone at a golf tournament for the weekend so we cannot meet up. However, he sends me a Facebook message. This obviously conveys definite interest. Once he gets back he texts and asks me what I do for lunch on Mondays. Well normally I get lunch with all of my buddies. Also this lunch is generally painful for me to miss because I like to chat with my pals, but I decide to miss it to get to know the boy a little bit more. We agree to meet during the noon hour at the Memorial Union to break bread and whatnot.
The Date
Sometimes I’m just not in the mood to date. This is one of these days. Prior to the date I am forced to make several calls for a club in an attempt to book a hotel room during a home-game weekend. This not only is a futile quest, but the mission also makes me about ten minutes late to lunch. In addition, the boy doesn’t call or text me to confirm or lunch date either, so I’m not even sure if it is still happening. Well eventually, after I get done making my calls, he texts me that he is at the C-Store
(yes, the C-Store, the location of my favorite date) in the MU.
I trudge on over to the Memorial Union, not quite knowing what to expect. I’m just a little cranky. It, after all, is a Monday and I have already been hard at work. I am not in the mood to entertain or pull the inquiring teeth that most dates have forced me to do. After a several minute search and scour of the MU I eventually find my date. He is sitting, without a plan or idea, waiting for me. He asks if I want Subway. I don’t particularly like the most popular fast-food chain in America, but there are few options in the Union and I’m not that hungry anyways. I order a four- inch children’s size sandwich and the golfer orders a golf club sized sandwich.
The Memorial Union during the noon hour on Monday, Wednesday, Fridays is absolutely hopping. I know about this from earlier in the year as my friends and I tried to meet there for lunch. We met there once and only once and we realized that the Memorial Union is a stupid place to dine during the noon hour. However, like during all of my dates, my common sense goes out the window and my noob mistakes come into play. Well, obviously the craziness of the Union during the noon hour prevents us from finding any seat. Anywhere. We wander around for a good ten minutes and we cannot find a single open spot. Finally I am able to hunt down some overflow seating and park it there.
After the long trudge around, we get to eating and whatnot, but by this time there isn’t even that much time to eat. I listen to him talk about golf. I listen to him talk about his trip. I am really cranky right now so I just don’t care. He asks what I’m doing that night and I can’t help it. I am horrible at making up lies on the spot, especially when my juices just aren't flowing, so I tell him that I’m going to see the Chinese acrobats. He happens to be free. And I happen to be picking him up at 7:45.
Grade of Date: D (Reminiscent of my favorite very, very horrible date without the entertaining story)
Grade of Match: C (We are clearly struggling for some common ground right now - but he is lonely and I like attention. Sometimes that's all people need)
So this is my second, second date. I know I haven't written about dates for a bit, but I really haven't felt like it. Sorry, folks!
The boy is gone at a golf tournament for the weekend so we cannot meet up. However, he sends me a Facebook message. This obviously conveys definite interest. Once he gets back he texts and asks me what I do for lunch on Mondays. Well normally I get lunch with all of my buddies. Also this lunch is generally painful for me to miss because I like to chat with my pals, but I decide to miss it to get to know the boy a little bit more. We agree to meet during the noon hour at the Memorial Union to break bread and whatnot.
The Date
Sometimes I’m just not in the mood to date. This is one of these days. Prior to the date I am forced to make several calls for a club in an attempt to book a hotel room during a home-game weekend. This not only is a futile quest, but the mission also makes me about ten minutes late to lunch. In addition, the boy doesn’t call or text me to confirm or lunch date either, so I’m not even sure if it is still happening. Well eventually, after I get done making my calls, he texts me that he is at the C-Store
(yes, the C-Store, the location of my favorite date) in the MU.
I trudge on over to the Memorial Union, not quite knowing what to expect. I’m just a little cranky. It, after all, is a Monday and I have already been hard at work. I am not in the mood to entertain or pull the inquiring teeth that most dates have forced me to do. After a several minute search and scour of the MU I eventually find my date. He is sitting, without a plan or idea, waiting for me. He asks if I want Subway. I don’t particularly like the most popular fast-food chain in America, but there are few options in the Union and I’m not that hungry anyways. I order a four- inch children’s size sandwich and the golfer orders a golf club sized sandwich.
The Memorial Union during the noon hour on Monday, Wednesday, Fridays is absolutely hopping. I know about this from earlier in the year as my friends and I tried to meet there for lunch. We met there once and only once and we realized that the Memorial Union is a stupid place to dine during the noon hour. However, like during all of my dates, my common sense goes out the window and my noob mistakes come into play. Well, obviously the craziness of the Union during the noon hour prevents us from finding any seat. Anywhere. We wander around for a good ten minutes and we cannot find a single open spot. Finally I am able to hunt down some overflow seating and park it there.
After the long trudge around, we get to eating and whatnot, but by this time there isn’t even that much time to eat. I listen to him talk about golf. I listen to him talk about his trip. I am really cranky right now so I just don’t care. He asks what I’m doing that night and I can’t help it. I am horrible at making up lies on the spot, especially when my juices just aren't flowing, so I tell him that I’m going to see the Chinese acrobats. He happens to be free. And I happen to be picking him up at 7:45.
Grade of Date: D (Reminiscent of my favorite very, very horrible date without the entertaining story)
Grade of Match: C (We are clearly struggling for some common ground right now - but he is lonely and I like attention. Sometimes that's all people need)
Sunday, May 1, 2011
College Seminar Three The Art of the Conversation - Geishas and Therapists
So by now I’ve been on about 15 dates – give or take a few and I have realized the complete incompetence of men on a first date. Yes, many men are able to go through the motions and the polite procedures of chivalry, but in order for a woman to earn her dinner she must fill one of two roles: the geisha and the therapist. The geisha is the role of the entertainer. The therapist has to listen to the male’s problems and get at to the heart of his deep issues – often because he never talks and he needs to act out his catharsis in some manner.
The Geisha
When a woman is forced to play the role of a geisha she must constantly entertain her date. She has to chat incessantly in order to fill the dead gaps in the date, as her male companion has not learned how to hold a conversation. She has to laugh as if on a perfect egg timer to the limited offerings of jokes her date supplies. She must manage all of this while smiling and nodding politely throughout.
In these discussions, it is a truly a one-way dialogue. The man ultimately has nothing to contribute. It is as if he is taking the woman out to dinner because it is a cheaper form of entertainment than going to the theater or going to whatever hotshot comedian is in town. However, unlike going to the movies or watching some other form of entertainment, the man during the dinner only passively pays attention to what is being said so even if the woman attempts to engage him in the dialogue, it does not work.
The Therapist
However, when a woman is forced to be a therapist she must listen to the entire man’s biography and each minute detail of his life. This is often when the man has no one to talk to and the woman is the first person to ever appear interested in him. Again, the woman must politely nod throughout, in order to show that she is absorbing each fascinating facet of his life. She must also prove her active listening skills through a questioning process over the topics he has just covered. This often requires the man to repeat what he has just said. If the woman tries to add in her own input, the man will once again take a hold of the conversation, navigating it towards himself.
This is also a limited conversation. The woman oftentimes does not truly care about every single detail of the man’s life and is secretly craving the attention. She asks questions repeatedly in the hopes that the man will eventually grow tired of talking about his favorite subject and inquire about her own well being. This never happens, to her extreme dismay.
Conclusion
I know that I am being unfair in suggesting that men cannot contribute to conversations. However, men rarely view the conversation as an art form in which both parties are equal participants. Rather, the conversation is seen as a sort of battle-like game of tug-o-war in which both members must fight for dominance. When a man is tired or not in the mood, he cedes and simply gives up trying to have a conversation completely, forcing the woman to be a geisha. However, when a man actively fights for dominance, he often wins, like the team with the fattest man orcing the woman to act as a therapist.
Men really need to learn how to hold a discussion in which they are active participants. In the ideal conversation both parties participate in a Jenga of words in which both members must actively work together in order to ensure that the tower never tumbles over into the awkward deadened spaces of silence.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Date Ten
Note: I am counting Spring Break as three dates. My blog, my rules, I win. Well okay, mostly I lose, but give me a break.
The Set Up
I get back from spring break and I am done, DONE, with men. I have been flirted out and hit on so many times that I am utterly exhausted and disgusted by almost all members of the opposite gender. If Gen-Xers are any representation of what is to become of our generation’s men, I am scared out of my mind, because they use the same exact moves as their sons, who are twenty years younger. Also, cruise socializing has zapped me of the high energy that is required for dating.
I rant and rave to some of my Yentals, a few of whom were expecting this breakdown much earlier. So I officially throw in the dating towel and step out of the boxing match called “College Dating” in hopes that I will magically bump into my true love while clumsily dropping my books on CyRide. Yes, he will pick up my books and our fingers will graze. Our eyes will glance, both knowing instantly that we have met our soul mate. Then, there will be no spots on the bus except for that lonely un-chosen seat right next to him. He shyly says hello while I mention my clumsiness and we begin a conversation that is so deep we make two loops around campus. It could totally happen, right?
Well my strike lasts one or two days. Then the College Gods, the same spirits who created Thirsty Thursday, magically cancelled classes and winning streaks in beer pong, step in and have their way with me.
The Friday after spring break all I want to do is hang out with my friends. I am not looking for a huge social event or anything that could be a potential college legend. I just want to take it easy. Plus I’m majorly sick. I have been having horrible migraines all week long and my stomach has been topsy-turvy and my body just aches. I blame post-cruise depression, but it’s really probably because I was with several thousand people in a relatively small space for a week. But after taking
several painkillers, I go to a free campus event anyways.
While I am chatting up one of my lovely buds, I see a guy who just looks nice. Also he is foreign. Obviously I can’t help myself. I “black widow” the poor boy and get his number by the end of the night after, no joke, two minutes of conversation. I impress all of my girlfriends by teaching them the new parlor trick of the obviously desperate pickup and go on my merry way.
The Date:
We try to meet up on the weekend but it just doesn’t work. We already have made plans so we try to meet up during the week. However, the first time I see him, post pickup, I’m running really late for class. A lot later than I usually am, so I can’t say anything to him but a yelp of, “Can’t talk! Class!” It’s rude, but I really am desperate to get to class. I see him the following day, and he is also standoffish. However, he quickly texts me that he had to run off to class that day. I get a little worried, but he sends me a text assuring me of plans and whatnot,
We end up meeting midweek on campus to get “dessert” which apparently means a shake or smoothie or something. He gets there first and picks the worst spot right next to the counter. I am able to overlook this glaring oversight because he speaks with an accent. And an accent means prince, which obviously makes me a future princess.
We just talk for an hour or so. We don't have much in common, but he has traveled the world so I pretend that he is a Baron or Earl. We mostly compare the places we have traveled. His life revolves around golf, a sport that I know nothing about so I have a hard time finding common conversational ground. But, things still go well, but I’m getting a little tired so I tell him I have an early morning meeting and have to be going. He tells me he wants to hang out again and I agree.
Results:
Yeah, it was pretty standard. Nothing special or anything. And also I didn’t try because it was mid-week and my Wednesdays are filled with classes and meetings so I pretty much give up on myself. Now, my giving up on myself is a lot different than the normal person giving up on themselves. I was still in a skirt and boots and attempting to be not-too-manically-bubbly, but I didn't wear makeup and I brought a book with the expectation of getting some studying in.
Also, when you hang out with a foreign person it's always a little difficult because the cultural frame of reference is completely different. So even though it seems super exotic, it's not like you both grew up watching the same cartoons or even have the same sense of humor. It can be a little difficult just for the two of you to feel comfortable enough around each other because that instant cultural connection that most people share just isn't there. BUT accents are still pretty awesome.
Grade of Date: B (Nothing special, nothing awful. Just a normal, regular, get-to-know-you date)
Grade of Match: ? (It was really hard to tell)
The Set Up
I get back from spring break and I am done, DONE, with men. I have been flirted out and hit on so many times that I am utterly exhausted and disgusted by almost all members of the opposite gender. If Gen-Xers are any representation of what is to become of our generation’s men, I am scared out of my mind, because they use the same exact moves as their sons, who are twenty years younger. Also, cruise socializing has zapped me of the high energy that is required for dating.
I rant and rave to some of my Yentals, a few of whom were expecting this breakdown much earlier. So I officially throw in the dating towel and step out of the boxing match called “College Dating” in hopes that I will magically bump into my true love while clumsily dropping my books on CyRide. Yes, he will pick up my books and our fingers will graze. Our eyes will glance, both knowing instantly that we have met our soul mate. Then, there will be no spots on the bus except for that lonely un-chosen seat right next to him. He shyly says hello while I mention my clumsiness and we begin a conversation that is so deep we make two loops around campus. It could totally happen, right?
Well my strike lasts one or two days. Then the College Gods, the same spirits who created Thirsty Thursday, magically cancelled classes and winning streaks in beer pong, step in and have their way with me.
The Friday after spring break all I want to do is hang out with my friends. I am not looking for a huge social event or anything that could be a potential college legend. I just want to take it easy. Plus I’m majorly sick. I have been having horrible migraines all week long and my stomach has been topsy-turvy and my body just aches. I blame post-cruise depression, but it’s really probably because I was with several thousand people in a relatively small space for a week. But after taking
several painkillers, I go to a free campus event anyways.
While I am chatting up one of my lovely buds, I see a guy who just looks nice. Also he is foreign. Obviously I can’t help myself. I “black widow” the poor boy and get his number by the end of the night after, no joke, two minutes of conversation. I impress all of my girlfriends by teaching them the new parlor trick of the obviously desperate pickup and go on my merry way.
The Date:
We try to meet up on the weekend but it just doesn’t work. We already have made plans so we try to meet up during the week. However, the first time I see him, post pickup, I’m running really late for class. A lot later than I usually am, so I can’t say anything to him but a yelp of, “Can’t talk! Class!” It’s rude, but I really am desperate to get to class. I see him the following day, and he is also standoffish. However, he quickly texts me that he had to run off to class that day. I get a little worried, but he sends me a text assuring me of plans and whatnot,
We end up meeting midweek on campus to get “dessert” which apparently means a shake or smoothie or something. He gets there first and picks the worst spot right next to the counter. I am able to overlook this glaring oversight because he speaks with an accent. And an accent means prince, which obviously makes me a future princess.
We just talk for an hour or so. We don't have much in common, but he has traveled the world so I pretend that he is a Baron or Earl. We mostly compare the places we have traveled. His life revolves around golf, a sport that I know nothing about so I have a hard time finding common conversational ground. But, things still go well, but I’m getting a little tired so I tell him I have an early morning meeting and have to be going. He tells me he wants to hang out again and I agree.
Results:
Yeah, it was pretty standard. Nothing special or anything. And also I didn’t try because it was mid-week and my Wednesdays are filled with classes and meetings so I pretty much give up on myself. Now, my giving up on myself is a lot different than the normal person giving up on themselves. I was still in a skirt and boots and attempting to be not-too-manically-bubbly, but I didn't wear makeup and I brought a book with the expectation of getting some studying in.
Also, when you hang out with a foreign person it's always a little difficult because the cultural frame of reference is completely different. So even though it seems super exotic, it's not like you both grew up watching the same cartoons or even have the same sense of humor. It can be a little difficult just for the two of you to feel comfortable enough around each other because that instant cultural connection that most people share just isn't there. BUT accents are still pretty awesome.
Grade of Date: B (Nothing special, nothing awful. Just a normal, regular, get-to-know-you date)
Grade of Match: ? (It was really hard to tell)
Sunday, April 17, 2011
VEISHEA Dating Rules
VEISHEA Dating Rules Top Ten
As a two year Veishea Veteran I have been able to observe some extremely stupid behavior. I have partaken in some extremely stupid behavior. So here is a little bit of Veishea Dating advice I have learned from these experiences.
So background: Veishea is the largest student-run festival in the nation. It also is an excuse for a lot of students to just get extremely wasted and because a lot of students know this people from all over the place visit and act up and out and start shit. There are also other fun activities that go on but it’s a lot of drinking.
These rules can usually be applied to regular college hookups as well.
1. If you must hookup with someone, do it with a person you will never see again, not someone who is in your psychology lecture or someone who lives down your hall. Just because Veishea is like Spring Break Part Two does not make it Vegas.
2. Also, just because Veishea feels like Spring Break Part Two, relationship rules still apply.
3. Just because you are shit-faced doesn’t not mean that everyone else around you is. They will probably remember all of the disgusting stuff that you have done. Keep that in mind.
4. Always try to remember the name of the person whose couch you are sleeping on. Most people are polite when you forget their name, but you never know.
5. Don’t puke on your date.
6. Also avoid going to bars during Veishea because the cover is obscene.
7. Perhaps avoid regular dates during this weekend because I am not quite sure that they work out so fabulously.
8. Do not do any action that involves an ex. Revenge seems fantastic but it is actually terrible. Especially when you are trashed. You will see this the next morning. A reconnection may seem brilliant when you are sufficiently hammered, but this is a mistake. However, this is also a mistake.
9. While these are several nuggets of knowledge this is the one weekend where you can really toss it all out and live like a hedonist.
10. Be safe. In all ways
VEISHEA Bingo
If you see or partake in a riot you automatically win
As a two year Veishea Veteran I have been able to observe some extremely stupid behavior. I have partaken in some extremely stupid behavior. So here is a little bit of Veishea Dating advice I have learned from these experiences.
So background: Veishea is the largest student-run festival in the nation. It also is an excuse for a lot of students to just get extremely wasted and because a lot of students know this people from all over the place visit and act up and out and start shit. There are also other fun activities that go on but it’s a lot of drinking.
These rules can usually be applied to regular college hookups as well.
1. If you must hookup with someone, do it with a person you will never see again, not someone who is in your psychology lecture or someone who lives down your hall. Just because Veishea is like Spring Break Part Two does not make it Vegas.
2. Also, just because Veishea feels like Spring Break Part Two, relationship rules still apply.
3. Just because you are shit-faced doesn’t not mean that everyone else around you is. They will probably remember all of the disgusting stuff that you have done. Keep that in mind.
4. Always try to remember the name of the person whose couch you are sleeping on. Most people are polite when you forget their name, but you never know.
5. Don’t puke on your date.
6. Also avoid going to bars during Veishea because the cover is obscene.
7. Perhaps avoid regular dates during this weekend because I am not quite sure that they work out so fabulously.
8. Do not do any action that involves an ex. Revenge seems fantastic but it is actually terrible. Especially when you are trashed. You will see this the next morning. A reconnection may seem brilliant when you are sufficiently hammered, but this is a mistake. However, this is also a mistake.
9. While these are several nuggets of knowledge this is the one weekend where you can really toss it all out and live like a hedonist.
10. Be safe. In all ways
VEISHEA Bingo
Girl Crush (A girl talking about girls): Life As Liz Lemon
The Prime-Time Dating Rules
One of my favorite television shows is 30 Rock. In fact, I pretty much adore all quirky, witty television shows featuring strong female characters. However, out of all of these shows, the character Liz Lemon, resonates with me the most.
Liz is a career-driven, food-loving, successful, smart, funny, yet very morally conflicted character. Liz’s primary story line involves her attempting to live out the American dream by “having it all” (and if you haven’t seen the show – yes there are musical numbers that attest to this goal). She struggles to discover a balance between a successful career and her personal life. However, she rarely compromises anything to achieve this. Obviously, because it is impossible for a successful woman to use her inferior brain to accomplish this difficult task, her social life wilts like an abused and ignored bouquet of poorly chosen carnations while her professional life often thrives like a lush patch of hearty Iowa corn. Because of this inability to “have it all” Liz appears to be an immature, childish harpy who is afraid of sex and traditional life.
I freaking love Liz Lemon, but whenever she seems to be solving her problems or is on the top of her proverbial professional peak someone either mentions her personal life, or she gets dragged down by her personal life. Then Liz falls and fails, only to attempt to stumble back up by the end of the episode (For example in a season one episode, after Liz is repeatedly set up on terrible and awkward blind dates, Liz finds the perfect match. At work, she is chosen to pitch an idea to NBC. But she gets distracted her new love and misses the meeting, loses her love temporarily and does not gain any accolades from her office). So even though Liz holds a position of power, she is not a woman to be admired. So why have I gone on this rant about a fictional character on a television show with low ratings? Like Liz, I believe that a successful woman shouldn’t have to sacrifice in order to “have it all”. Yet the show and many others clearly have a polar view on this issue.
Personal Note
I have had the same goals since the 8th grade. Yeah, I am single-minded to the point of recklessness. Obviously I am not going to be deterred or distracted by anything, even if this means compromising my sole-duty in life of making lots of wailing infants who will grow to resent me.
However, this single-minded steely determination has branded me as too immature to pursue an actual relationship. So, by this logic, the women and men who are attending college just to get by or with no ultimate goal are more relationship-ready than I am. I want to be successful clearly, but because I want to be too successful, I am unable to fit in with the standards of the societal standards of who needs a relationship. I am too comfortable with myself. FTS. Or, as Liz Lemon would say, “Nerds!”
One of my favorite television shows is 30 Rock. In fact, I pretty much adore all quirky, witty television shows featuring strong female characters. However, out of all of these shows, the character Liz Lemon, resonates with me the most.
Liz is a career-driven, food-loving, successful, smart, funny, yet very morally conflicted character. Liz’s primary story line involves her attempting to live out the American dream by “having it all” (and if you haven’t seen the show – yes there are musical numbers that attest to this goal). She struggles to discover a balance between a successful career and her personal life. However, she rarely compromises anything to achieve this. Obviously, because it is impossible for a successful woman to use her inferior brain to accomplish this difficult task, her social life wilts like an abused and ignored bouquet of poorly chosen carnations while her professional life often thrives like a lush patch of hearty Iowa corn. Because of this inability to “have it all” Liz appears to be an immature, childish harpy who is afraid of sex and traditional life.
I freaking love Liz Lemon, but whenever she seems to be solving her problems or is on the top of her proverbial professional peak someone either mentions her personal life, or she gets dragged down by her personal life. Then Liz falls and fails, only to attempt to stumble back up by the end of the episode (For example in a season one episode, after Liz is repeatedly set up on terrible and awkward blind dates, Liz finds the perfect match. At work, she is chosen to pitch an idea to NBC. But she gets distracted her new love and misses the meeting, loses her love temporarily and does not gain any accolades from her office). So even though Liz holds a position of power, she is not a woman to be admired. So why have I gone on this rant about a fictional character on a television show with low ratings? Like Liz, I believe that a successful woman shouldn’t have to sacrifice in order to “have it all”. Yet the show and many others clearly have a polar view on this issue.
Personal Note
I have had the same goals since the 8th grade. Yeah, I am single-minded to the point of recklessness. Obviously I am not going to be deterred or distracted by anything, even if this means compromising my sole-duty in life of making lots of wailing infants who will grow to resent me.
However, this single-minded steely determination has branded me as too immature to pursue an actual relationship. So, by this logic, the women and men who are attending college just to get by or with no ultimate goal are more relationship-ready than I am. I want to be successful clearly, but because I want to be too successful, I am unable to fit in with the standards of the societal standards of who needs a relationship. I am too comfortable with myself. FTS. Or, as Liz Lemon would say, “Nerds!”
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
What Never To Do In A Vacationship
So obviously I have had my fair share of vacationship experiences, but I also glean a wealth of knowledge from other’s mistakes as well. So here are some direct examples of what never to do in or on a vacationship from many others, including my trusty Wing Woman. Clearly this advice applies to vacations that are all expensive paid by mummy and daddy, so therefore I have to deal with them. In regards to the advice deals with parents, feel free to adjust the advice accordingly and substitute “parents” with “prudish friend” if you so choose.
The Top Ten!
1. Do not get into a vacationship just because your mama told you not to. Yes, vacationships should be experimental and fun. But going after a burly, tattooed, mustachioed marine just because mom told you not to is not a reason to go after a guy. That is why you go after a boy in high school. So quick age check! Do you see the title of this blog? Excellent! Are you currently or have you ever been accepted to a university, attended a university in order to attain a degree (not just to not be in high school or transfer later), lived away from home for over four months, and finally know the shitty dorm food BUT also know the schedule so well you know the days when they serve the good stuff? If you answered “Why, yes!” to three of these four questions you are in college and you are in the right place! Congratulations former high school student! So step away from the dish best served cold (he doesn’t look that good anyways) and come into some honey.
2. It is fine if and even encouraged that you take off your clothing in front of your vacationship. It is not encouraged to take off your clothing in front of your vacationship and all of his or her friends. This means that it is not cute to crawl into a hot tub, after nine jager bombs, while wearing only your underwear. It also means it is still unacceptable to strip down to your skivvies even when “I’m in Love with a Stripper” is playing. Yes, even at Senor Frogs. Especially with the advent of cell phones and Facebook – you do not want your one-week fling to destroy your future. The only exception to this rule, and this is an absolute maybe, is if you are playing a socially acceptable game. Now keep in mind that socially acceptable usually means classy and classy means employed. So even then, use your best judgment.
3. Don’t play musical beds (from previous entries if you do this it is not a vacationship).
4. Don’t introduce your parents to your vacationship if he or she is an experiment. If she or he is someone you would be seen with in the real world, more power to you and go ahead and introduce him or her to your parents. This very well may save you a lot of trouble in the future.
5. Do introduce your parents to at least one of your vacation-made friends so when they see you chatting up your vacationship’s dad or scarier, more tattooed friend, they don’t think you’re trying to hit on him.
6. Don’t do anything intimate in places your family members might be. It is fine to be a little intimate in front of strangers. Hell, you will never, ever see these people again (okay, you might, but that is a different story… or stories). But if you choose a location that your family also frequents go back to your bunk and screw on a different head. For example if your dad is a huge swing fan and your little brother is in jazz band, then a jazz club is not a great place to take your vacationship to the next level. Yes, even if it is romantic and fun to disturb the waltzing old folks. The disturbed looks that you might get are not worth it.
7. Also don’t pick a place where you can be easily interrupted. Hot tubs seem steamy, but not only are they full of STDs, but also the staff (and you will probably get a staph infection if you do anything in those hot tubs) regularly checks these areas. Elevators also seem super sexy in the movies, but when the door opens to your vacationhip’s sister you gotta go and straighten your dress and shake out your hair and watch him wipe his face and see the look on her face. Yeah, you are screwed in so many ways.
8. Don’t take yourself too seriously. If you are picking an experimental person then your buds are going to make fun of you and make fun of your vacationship. Be prepared for puns, innuendos and a ton of really awful jokes. You’re having fun every night; let them have fun when they see you during the day. And oh, will they have fun.
9. Don’t get too attached to your vacationship. It is supposed to last a week and while texting and Facebooking is fine, don’t get too connected because the magic of the vacation is gone. Ultimately save yourself and don’t get heartbroken over the person. It is really easy to do because you can view this person within the halo of the vacation. Everything seems to have a rosy glow. Plus because the relationship was one week long, things ended perfectly. You never went through the trials of a real relationship. Do not let this rosy hindsight let you get attached to someone you knew for a week. Even if you think you love them.
10. The final and most important rule of the vacationship. DO NOT HAVE A DAMN VACATIONSHIP IF YOU ARE IN A REAL RELATIONSHIP! I do not care if the states don’t touch. I don’t care if it’s spring break. If a line is crossed, no matter how small, within a month the REAL couple is broken up and the vacationship is forgotten about. This has happened so many times. And really, it is NOT worth it.
The Top Ten!
1. Do not get into a vacationship just because your mama told you not to. Yes, vacationships should be experimental and fun. But going after a burly, tattooed, mustachioed marine just because mom told you not to is not a reason to go after a guy. That is why you go after a boy in high school. So quick age check! Do you see the title of this blog? Excellent! Are you currently or have you ever been accepted to a university, attended a university in order to attain a degree (not just to not be in high school or transfer later), lived away from home for over four months, and finally know the shitty dorm food BUT also know the schedule so well you know the days when they serve the good stuff? If you answered “Why, yes!” to three of these four questions you are in college and you are in the right place! Congratulations former high school student! So step away from the dish best served cold (he doesn’t look that good anyways) and come into some honey.
 |
| Taking off clothing - Not Classy! |
3. Don’t play musical beds (from previous entries if you do this it is not a vacationship).
4. Don’t introduce your parents to your vacationship if he or she is an experiment. If she or he is someone you would be seen with in the real world, more power to you and go ahead and introduce him or her to your parents. This very well may save you a lot of trouble in the future.
5. Do introduce your parents to at least one of your vacation-made friends so when they see you chatting up your vacationship’s dad or scarier, more tattooed friend, they don’t think you’re trying to hit on him.
6. Don’t do anything intimate in places your family members might be. It is fine to be a little intimate in front of strangers. Hell, you will never, ever see these people again (okay, you might, but that is a different story… or stories). But if you choose a location that your family also frequents go back to your bunk and screw on a different head. For example if your dad is a huge swing fan and your little brother is in jazz band, then a jazz club is not a great place to take your vacationship to the next level. Yes, even if it is romantic and fun to disturb the waltzing old folks. The disturbed looks that you might get are not worth it.
 |
| Evidence: Hot Tub = Not Sexy |
8. Don’t take yourself too seriously. If you are picking an experimental person then your buds are going to make fun of you and make fun of your vacationship. Be prepared for puns, innuendos and a ton of really awful jokes. You’re having fun every night; let them have fun when they see you during the day. And oh, will they have fun.
9. Don’t get too attached to your vacationship. It is supposed to last a week and while texting and Facebooking is fine, don’t get too connected because the magic of the vacation is gone. Ultimately save yourself and don’t get heartbroken over the person. It is really easy to do because you can view this person within the halo of the vacation. Everything seems to have a rosy glow. Plus because the relationship was one week long, things ended perfectly. You never went through the trials of a real relationship. Do not let this rosy hindsight let you get attached to someone you knew for a week. Even if you think you love them.
10. The final and most important rule of the vacationship. DO NOT HAVE A DAMN VACATIONSHIP IF YOU ARE IN A REAL RELATIONSHIP! I do not care if the states don’t touch. I don’t care if it’s spring break. If a line is crossed, no matter how small, within a month the REAL couple is broken up and the vacationship is forgotten about. This has happened so many times. And really, it is NOT worth it.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Spring Break - The Ultimate Day
The Ultimate, Eating, Flash Mobs, Karaoke, Disco, Dancing, Games and Adieus
The final day of the trip. The ultimate day of all of the wonderful relationships that had been created. If you’re wondering if all of the loose ends get tied up – well you will see. I get lunch with Austin, Dallas and WW at the regular place. We once again fight boredom by trying to find every place possible that we haven’t eaten including the Windjammer for desserts and the Brat place as Austin has no idea what a bratwurst is. We then go to watch a dodge ball tournament. We see Abilene, for the first time in what feels like ages. We cheer for him and he smiles and waves. He looks happy but he doesn’t make any effort to try to talk to us. He loses, but it’s all good. We also see the guy who tried to buy me a drink the first night, yes, same guy who spilled the drink on my white skirt, macking on some poor underage high school babe. This makes me feel so happy that I could burst. It is completely possible to find true love on a vacation.
We re-take our flash mob dance class and Austin and Dallas split to study so I have some quality time on the elevator bar with my WW where I meet a dude who lived in Iowa (yeah, this is amazing you have no idea). We then splinter off as WW goes to find her marine and I go to tan.
We re-meet during the flash mob. The flash mob doesn't go as well as any of us would have liked, but it looks pretty cool. Plus, when we find one another we discover we are all matching in white and black. We are amazed that our bond has extended so deep that we have started to dress similarly. We decide to meet up again at family disco but I only see Dallas and Austin’s sisters. I boogie down with them and learn how to do the Electric Slide. They then tell me to check their room so I, like an elementary school kid knocking on a next-door neighbor’s door, sheepishly go to their door. We chill for a bit, watching a recording of last night’s disco night and then go to karaoke where we meet WW and my bro. I see Florida, where he does an incredibly drunken rendition of a Backstreet Boy’s song (he thanks some people that he met the casino for the liquor). I then bump into Canada’s dad who asks if I’m going to sing again and is disappointed when I tell him I am not. He reeks of whiskey and beer and I tell him I’ll see him later at the club.
We then go to the casino where I win $25. We essentially cram all of the cruising activities into one night. But even though I win the money, we lose WW at the casino and after a few rounds of games we also lose Dallas, who wants to go to bed early because he has to wake up at 5:30. So Austin and I wander around the ship, exploring and talking and joking around. It’s kind of like Abilene, except Austin has actually taking to a woman before so therefore I do not gnash my teeth. Eventually we go back to the club where I reunite with WW, Canada and Florida. Canada apologizes for his father’s drunken behavior. Florida is extremely wasted. He doofily dances around. I finally meet WW’s marine. Austin and I decide to go to bed earlier than usual, as we both have to wake up early so we go. As Austin and I bid one another adieu on his floor, he promises that he will never forget me. Then I die a little bit.
Reasons why I died a little when Austin Said Goodbye
Austin is the kind of guy that every girl sets out to marry. Although these entries describe daily events and group bonds, it doesn’t encapsulate the individual friendships that were made.
Austin was hilarious, sensitive and kind. We had nice conversations and similar values. He was so smart (His school accepted the top 8%). We were goofing around a flirting a lot by the time we said goodbye. Yeah we were dancing a lot and yes, he was a good dancing. Also yes, I was majorly crushing by the time we said goodbye.
Oh and all of that karaoke stuff? Yeah, boy could sing. (Le sigh)He is close to his family, but not in an embarrassingly mama’s boy kind of way. He actually reads books. He played soccer. He is planning on going to SXSW next Spring Break. The list could go on and on.
Okay end of girly rant. Especially because writing this only makes me more sad, so I am going to stop and bury my face in a pint of Hagen Das Raspberry Sorbet now, okay?
That Morning
I see WW the next morning and she tells me all about her wild times with her marine. We exchange numbers and then eventually make plans to meet up in the future. This weekend.
Grade of Match : A +( I got to choose my family. I had the most drama free time of my life. It was incredible. It was amazing. I had an awesome time being absolutely free and crazy and wild. Yes, I was constantly mistaken for a drunk person. Yes I lost my voice because I yelled so much. Yes I fell in love - kind of. Yes. I hopefully made some life-long friends)
Grade of Date: A+ ("")
Up Next Time:
I know! I have sucked at updating! I admit it! Last week I had several exams and essays and whatnot so I was super busy.
Anyways- here are a few things that will be covered in the upcoming entries. I'm still not completely done with spring break. I know! It's a lot of stuff! So you get to look forward to "What never to do on a Vacationship" and "The Worst Ways I Was Hit on While on Vacation".
Also I have been on about 4 dates with a guy so there's that.
Also VEISHEA is this weekend and my lovely WW is visiting me.
According to Urban Dictionary VEISHEA is "A celebration of Iowa State University. A really really good excuse to get wasted every single night that week.
Many students will be drunk in class." So obviously I will be having an entry about VEISHEA-dating. That is- if I survive.
xoxo serialdater
The final day of the trip. The ultimate day of all of the wonderful relationships that had been created. If you’re wondering if all of the loose ends get tied up – well you will see. I get lunch with Austin, Dallas and WW at the regular place. We once again fight boredom by trying to find every place possible that we haven’t eaten including the Windjammer for desserts and the Brat place as Austin has no idea what a bratwurst is. We then go to watch a dodge ball tournament. We see Abilene, for the first time in what feels like ages. We cheer for him and he smiles and waves. He looks happy but he doesn’t make any effort to try to talk to us. He loses, but it’s all good. We also see the guy who tried to buy me a drink the first night, yes, same guy who spilled the drink on my white skirt, macking on some poor underage high school babe. This makes me feel so happy that I could burst. It is completely possible to find true love on a vacation.
We re-take our flash mob dance class and Austin and Dallas split to study so I have some quality time on the elevator bar with my WW where I meet a dude who lived in Iowa (yeah, this is amazing you have no idea). We then splinter off as WW goes to find her marine and I go to tan.
We re-meet during the flash mob. The flash mob doesn't go as well as any of us would have liked, but it looks pretty cool. Plus, when we find one another we discover we are all matching in white and black. We are amazed that our bond has extended so deep that we have started to dress similarly. We decide to meet up again at family disco but I only see Dallas and Austin’s sisters. I boogie down with them and learn how to do the Electric Slide. They then tell me to check their room so I, like an elementary school kid knocking on a next-door neighbor’s door, sheepishly go to their door. We chill for a bit, watching a recording of last night’s disco night and then go to karaoke where we meet WW and my bro. I see Florida, where he does an incredibly drunken rendition of a Backstreet Boy’s song (he thanks some people that he met the casino for the liquor). I then bump into Canada’s dad who asks if I’m going to sing again and is disappointed when I tell him I am not. He reeks of whiskey and beer and I tell him I’ll see him later at the club.
We then go to the casino where I win $25. We essentially cram all of the cruising activities into one night. But even though I win the money, we lose WW at the casino and after a few rounds of games we also lose Dallas, who wants to go to bed early because he has to wake up at 5:30. So Austin and I wander around the ship, exploring and talking and joking around. It’s kind of like Abilene, except Austin has actually taking to a woman before so therefore I do not gnash my teeth. Eventually we go back to the club where I reunite with WW, Canada and Florida. Canada apologizes for his father’s drunken behavior. Florida is extremely wasted. He doofily dances around. I finally meet WW’s marine. Austin and I decide to go to bed earlier than usual, as we both have to wake up early so we go. As Austin and I bid one another adieu on his floor, he promises that he will never forget me. Then I die a little bit.
Reasons why I died a little when Austin Said Goodbye
Austin is the kind of guy that every girl sets out to marry. Although these entries describe daily events and group bonds, it doesn’t encapsulate the individual friendships that were made.
Austin was hilarious, sensitive and kind. We had nice conversations and similar values. He was so smart (His school accepted the top 8%). We were goofing around a flirting a lot by the time we said goodbye. Yeah we were dancing a lot and yes, he was a good dancing. Also yes, I was majorly crushing by the time we said goodbye.
Oh and all of that karaoke stuff? Yeah, boy could sing. (Le sigh)He is close to his family, but not in an embarrassingly mama’s boy kind of way. He actually reads books. He played soccer. He is planning on going to SXSW next Spring Break. The list could go on and on.
Okay end of girly rant. Especially because writing this only makes me more sad, so I am going to stop and bury my face in a pint of Hagen Das Raspberry Sorbet now, okay?
That Morning
I see WW the next morning and she tells me all about her wild times with her marine. We exchange numbers and then eventually make plans to meet up in the future. This weekend.
Grade of Match : A +( I got to choose my family. I had the most drama free time of my life. It was incredible. It was amazing. I had an awesome time being absolutely free and crazy and wild. Yes, I was constantly mistaken for a drunk person. Yes I lost my voice because I yelled so much. Yes I fell in love - kind of. Yes. I hopefully made some life-long friends)
Grade of Date: A+ ("")
Up Next Time:
I know! I have sucked at updating! I admit it! Last week I had several exams and essays and whatnot so I was super busy.
Anyways- here are a few things that will be covered in the upcoming entries. I'm still not completely done with spring break. I know! It's a lot of stuff! So you get to look forward to "What never to do on a Vacationship" and "The Worst Ways I Was Hit on While on Vacation".
Also I have been on about 4 dates with a guy so there's that.
Also VEISHEA is this weekend and my lovely WW is visiting me.
According to Urban Dictionary VEISHEA is "A celebration of Iowa State University. A really really good excuse to get wasted every single night that week.
Many students will be drunk in class." So obviously I will be having an entry about VEISHEA-dating. That is- if I survive.
xoxo serialdater
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Spring Break - Day Six
Phone Calls, Disco Dancing, Karaoke Clubbing, Bacardi Dancing and Cards
Although I have a day of no social contact, I have to get a hold of Dallas, Austin and my Wing Woman somehow. Just like the middle school pre-texting days of yore, I actually have to call people’s rooms in order to make plans. This is an embarrassing process I forgot about until I am forced to do so. The phone call in and of itself is such an awkward form of communication. First of all, because in no way the phone call can be casual. The phone call conveys definite interest. Secondly, because many of these people share rooms with their parents or siblings you have to deal the uncomfortable, unexpected people and explanations. Finally, if no one answers the dilemma of leaving a message is raised.
Luckily when I call I am able to talk directly to Dallas so most of the embarrassment is avoided. We plan to meet up after a day in Mexico. A day in Mexico means that everyone comes back completely schwasted. However, Austin and Dallas are as reliable as they are sober. We end up meeting my WW randomly and we go to see a weird Cirque du Soleil Revue type of thing. I laugh through an interpretive dance to the song “Blue”. Then we go to disco night. Yes, a cruise is a weird world in which all things that are cheesy and dorky are magically acceptable. Needless to say WW, Austin, Dallas and I jam out to “Love Train”, “The YMCA” and “The Hustle”. Next, of course we go to the karaoke bar, On Air, for a bit. This night I actually sing for once. I do horribly but I wiggle a lot and I impress Canada’s dad so much he drunkenly raves to me. As I jam out to other people's songs and basically make a fool of myself, act so crazy that WW's two a.m. and later friend is so alarmed at my behavior, she asks if I am okay and she inquires as to what I drank in Mexico.
Yet I am able to redeem myself and purge all of my embarrassing behavior by going to a Bacardi party after Disco night and karaoke. This party is complete with Go-Go dancers and glow-in-the-dark, electric -looking shots. However, my WW becomes preoccupied with a marine and Dallas is a little less enamored with the party scene after his long day in Mexico. So Dallas, Austin and I lose all cool points that we gained by ditching early to play cards. However, pretty much every drunken person I have ever met on the entire trip decides to randomly say hello and pass by our card playing promenade spot. Needless to say Austin and Dallas are incredibly impressed that I know every single lush. Well, when it is the curfew for the drunkards I know it is time to get to bed so we quickly skedaddle to bed.
Although I have a day of no social contact, I have to get a hold of Dallas, Austin and my Wing Woman somehow. Just like the middle school pre-texting days of yore, I actually have to call people’s rooms in order to make plans. This is an embarrassing process I forgot about until I am forced to do so. The phone call in and of itself is such an awkward form of communication. First of all, because in no way the phone call can be casual. The phone call conveys definite interest. Secondly, because many of these people share rooms with their parents or siblings you have to deal the uncomfortable, unexpected people and explanations. Finally, if no one answers the dilemma of leaving a message is raised.
Luckily when I call I am able to talk directly to Dallas so most of the embarrassment is avoided. We plan to meet up after a day in Mexico. A day in Mexico means that everyone comes back completely schwasted. However, Austin and Dallas are as reliable as they are sober. We end up meeting my WW randomly and we go to see a weird Cirque du Soleil Revue type of thing. I laugh through an interpretive dance to the song “Blue”. Then we go to disco night. Yes, a cruise is a weird world in which all things that are cheesy and dorky are magically acceptable. Needless to say WW, Austin, Dallas and I jam out to “Love Train”, “The YMCA” and “The Hustle”. Next, of course we go to the karaoke bar, On Air, for a bit. This night I actually sing for once. I do horribly but I wiggle a lot and I impress Canada’s dad so much he drunkenly raves to me. As I jam out to other people's songs and basically make a fool of myself, act so crazy that WW's two a.m. and later friend is so alarmed at my behavior, she asks if I am okay and she inquires as to what I drank in Mexico.
Yet I am able to redeem myself and purge all of my embarrassing behavior by going to a Bacardi party after Disco night and karaoke. This party is complete with Go-Go dancers and glow-in-the-dark, electric -looking shots. However, my WW becomes preoccupied with a marine and Dallas is a little less enamored with the party scene after his long day in Mexico. So Dallas, Austin and I lose all cool points that we gained by ditching early to play cards. However, pretty much every drunken person I have ever met on the entire trip decides to randomly say hello and pass by our card playing promenade spot. Needless to say Austin and Dallas are incredibly impressed that I know every single lush. Well, when it is the curfew for the drunkards I know it is time to get to bed so we quickly skedaddle to bed.
Spring Break Day Four - Getting Cheesy and Building Bonds
At Sea, Making Trouble and The Only Friendships are Made on Cruise Ships
Okay, basically this whole series is about friends made while on vacation. Although this isn’t as snarky or even as sweet as some of my legitimate entries I still (obviously) think it’s an important aspect of dating to discuss.
These relationships might sounds simple and a little bit cheesy, but ultimately in these situations you are forced to fight boredom with strangers you randomly meet. Essentially it is the best blind date ever because everybody knows what they are getting into. Even if you have only have little in common, because you are constantly making adventures to fight the boredom, you are constantly creating the shared memories so things are no longer awkward.
This is the attitude I’ve learned to apply to all of my blind date situations. I try to put my best self out there and search for those few things I have in common so that time can pass a little bit faster.
Well onto my description of Day Four.
Day Four
After successfully reuniting with WW and finding a non-highschooler, Austin, as well as his cousin, the twin of Friday Night Light’s Landry, Dallas, I make plans to meet at my favorite café for lunch.
My always lovely Wing Woman is utterly hung-over, but the sun is shining, replacing all of the Vitamin D we lost over the winter, supplying us with energy.
So again our constant quest to battle boredom begins as we try to make trouble and find stuff to do. We obviously attend the belly-flop contest by the secret route I discovered with Abilene the night before (yes, somehow I abandoned my high school boy toy). Then we wander around, attempting to find the helicopter pad, which apparently is inaccessible to the general public. We, however, only discover this after doing several laps around the ship and entering (and very quickly exiting) several crew-only areas.
After walking approximately five miles we decide, or are forced to participate in a flash mob dance class by Austin and Dallas’ families. This is when I see my own mother, who like pre-teen, scampers away to avoid me. Whatever. (This is the point in which you analyze the relationship between my mother and me and how my lack of attention from my mother is why I constantly need approval from members of the opposite sex)
I meet WW, Dallas and Austin later on in the evening. I finally see Abilene after feeling mountains of guilt for leading on my teenaged puppy. So to redeem myself I invite him to go to the adult scavenger hunt. However, Abilene has found some other age-appropriate friends so he decides to meet with me later and opts out of karaoke.
WW, Dallas, Austin, my bro and I all go to karaoke together. Dallas and Austin’s sisters meet us shortly after. Oftentimes at these types of bars there is a group of drunken soldiers who scream and cheer and ultimately make those awful singers, whose only goal is to make it onto an American Idol montage, feel like they are rocking Madison Square Garden. Yes, we get the whole place to jam to horrible covers of R. Kelly and Styx (when you’re on a boat “come Sail Away” is somehow a favorite).
After reveling in the glories or Motown and the wonders 90’s bubblegum past, I go off to the scavenger hunt, crew in tow. As we enter I scream and dance which causes the activities director to ask me if I have imbibed too much tequila. Haha, I wish. Our team gains a glorious victory (with the aid of my bra and splits, of course). Then we go to the club where the St. Pat’s celebration begins. Some form of a messed-up river dance/Hispanic mash up plays.
Naturally I leave early with Dallas and Austin and we live to fight another day.
Okay, basically this whole series is about friends made while on vacation. Although this isn’t as snarky or even as sweet as some of my legitimate entries I still (obviously) think it’s an important aspect of dating to discuss.
These relationships might sounds simple and a little bit cheesy, but ultimately in these situations you are forced to fight boredom with strangers you randomly meet. Essentially it is the best blind date ever because everybody knows what they are getting into. Even if you have only have little in common, because you are constantly making adventures to fight the boredom, you are constantly creating the shared memories so things are no longer awkward.
This is the attitude I’ve learned to apply to all of my blind date situations. I try to put my best self out there and search for those few things I have in common so that time can pass a little bit faster.
Well onto my description of Day Four.
Day Four
After successfully reuniting with WW and finding a non-highschooler, Austin, as well as his cousin, the twin of Friday Night Light’s Landry, Dallas, I make plans to meet at my favorite café for lunch.
My always lovely Wing Woman is utterly hung-over, but the sun is shining, replacing all of the Vitamin D we lost over the winter, supplying us with energy.
So again our constant quest to battle boredom begins as we try to make trouble and find stuff to do. We obviously attend the belly-flop contest by the secret route I discovered with Abilene the night before (yes, somehow I abandoned my high school boy toy). Then we wander around, attempting to find the helicopter pad, which apparently is inaccessible to the general public. We, however, only discover this after doing several laps around the ship and entering (and very quickly exiting) several crew-only areas.
After walking approximately five miles we decide, or are forced to participate in a flash mob dance class by Austin and Dallas’ families. This is when I see my own mother, who like pre-teen, scampers away to avoid me. Whatever. (This is the point in which you analyze the relationship between my mother and me and how my lack of attention from my mother is why I constantly need approval from members of the opposite sex)
I meet WW, Dallas and Austin later on in the evening. I finally see Abilene after feeling mountains of guilt for leading on my teenaged puppy. So to redeem myself I invite him to go to the adult scavenger hunt. However, Abilene has found some other age-appropriate friends so he decides to meet with me later and opts out of karaoke.
WW, Dallas, Austin, my bro and I all go to karaoke together. Dallas and Austin’s sisters meet us shortly after. Oftentimes at these types of bars there is a group of drunken soldiers who scream and cheer and ultimately make those awful singers, whose only goal is to make it onto an American Idol montage, feel like they are rocking Madison Square Garden. Yes, we get the whole place to jam to horrible covers of R. Kelly and Styx (when you’re on a boat “come Sail Away” is somehow a favorite).
After reveling in the glories or Motown and the wonders 90’s bubblegum past, I go off to the scavenger hunt, crew in tow. As we enter I scream and dance which causes the activities director to ask me if I have imbibed too much tequila. Haha, I wish. Our team gains a glorious victory (with the aid of my bra and splits, of course). Then we go to the club where the St. Pat’s celebration begins. Some form of a messed-up river dance/Hispanic mash up plays.
Naturally I leave early with Dallas and Austin and we live to fight another day.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Spring Break Day Three
Haiti, Love and Marriage, The Continuation of the High School Flirting
After spending a day on Haiti getting terribly burned, Abilene picks me up after dinner. Just like a high school date. And just like a high school date, I fail to introduce him to my parents. We have nothing to do so we wander around. The poking, tickling and the playground romance continues. I get completely freaked out because he flat out says that he thinks I'm pretty and nice so I know that he is interested in me, however he is a high school kid. He has no idea what the hell he is going to do with his life and is as simple as a puppy. I know I need to ditch him, but I have no idea how. Plus no one can abandon a puppy!
He takes me to dinner at the Windjammer where we end up seeing Canada and Florida. We make tentative plans to meet up at Blaze later in the evening. We continue our evening with a post-dinner walk around the ship. The poking, tickling and flicking continues as he makes attempts to block my path and tries to make any attempt to grab at me. He then tells me that he made plans to see the "Love and Marriage Game Show" with a few people he met while playing ping-pong. I oblige, happy to meet some (hopefully) not high schoolers.
This is how I meet Austin and Dallas. Austin and Dallas are two adorable cousins, however I don't have an opportunity to speak to them as Abilene takes up most of my time and attention as most puppies do. We go to the game show and Abilene jokes about how awful it would be if we were asked to go on stage. I don't even know how to respond to this.
After the game show we (Austin, Dallas, Abilene and myself) go to the club, which this night has been moved to the upper deck. The party is pretty awesome and is even sponsored by Malibu Rum. It's all decorated and cool because it is outside so there are more open spaces and it's not as warm.
It is here that I finally see my wing woman. I had gotten her room number the night before from a few Jersey dudes, so I had been calling her all day to no success. We hug and get real room numbers and make plans to grab lunch the next day.
So I dance with Abilene (who is really awkward, especially because I refused to dirty dance high school style with him the previous night), Austin and Dallas. Abilene eventually leaves, but says he will come back in ten minutes. So I continue to dance with Austin and Dallas and we go off to the side and chat for a bit. They're both hilarious and really nice and the best news of all is that Austin is in college (HOORAY!). However Abilene doesn't come back so Austin, Dallas and I go to bed but not before we make plans to meet for lunch the next day.
So this is my first taste of vacation romance high school style.
After spending a day on Haiti getting terribly burned, Abilene picks me up after dinner. Just like a high school date. And just like a high school date, I fail to introduce him to my parents. We have nothing to do so we wander around. The poking, tickling and the playground romance continues. I get completely freaked out because he flat out says that he thinks I'm pretty and nice so I know that he is interested in me, however he is a high school kid. He has no idea what the hell he is going to do with his life and is as simple as a puppy. I know I need to ditch him, but I have no idea how. Plus no one can abandon a puppy!
He takes me to dinner at the Windjammer where we end up seeing Canada and Florida. We make tentative plans to meet up at Blaze later in the evening. We continue our evening with a post-dinner walk around the ship. The poking, tickling and flicking continues as he makes attempts to block my path and tries to make any attempt to grab at me. He then tells me that he made plans to see the "Love and Marriage Game Show" with a few people he met while playing ping-pong. I oblige, happy to meet some (hopefully) not high schoolers.
This is how I meet Austin and Dallas. Austin and Dallas are two adorable cousins, however I don't have an opportunity to speak to them as Abilene takes up most of my time and attention as most puppies do. We go to the game show and Abilene jokes about how awful it would be if we were asked to go on stage. I don't even know how to respond to this.
After the game show we (Austin, Dallas, Abilene and myself) go to the club, which this night has been moved to the upper deck. The party is pretty awesome and is even sponsored by Malibu Rum. It's all decorated and cool because it is outside so there are more open spaces and it's not as warm.
It is here that I finally see my wing woman. I had gotten her room number the night before from a few Jersey dudes, so I had been calling her all day to no success. We hug and get real room numbers and make plans to grab lunch the next day.
 |
| The Malibu Party (Also Canada and Florida) |
So this is my first taste of vacation romance high school style.
Spring Break Day Two
AT SEA
So after making plans for 10:30 a.m. following a three a.m. bedtime I obviously fail to meet my new wing woman. We set an additional 12:30 lunchtime just in case. Yet she did not see me or I didn’t wait long enough to see her. In either case, inviting everyone I had met the night before did have its consequences. I ended up meeting with two boys, Canada and Florida, from the previous night, both of whom I’d met and spoken to very briefly.
Anyway, we grab lunch at the Windjammer and try to get to know one another. Getting to know people on cruises is a bizarre experience because you have to cram one entire biography into a few sentences without sounding boring. Additionally when you talk to people who are 18-20 (those who are legal on the islands, yet not on the ship. The very hellish limbo that haunts those who don’t know how to avoid it or can’t have fun in the vacation purgatory) they are only able to talk about the following:
1. Not getting booze
2. How wasted they are going to get on the islands
3. How drunk they get at home
4. How not getting smashed for two days blows
5. How hammered their friends are getting
Needless to say conversation is incredibly limited. Yet I continue to pursue the friendship.
We decide to wander around the ship and attempt to tan. Yet it is so windy that we cannot do so unless we want our iPods to blow away (in fact when we politely put our chairs away they almost fly off of the ship). So we basically wander the ship and explore – doing pretty much what most young people do. We get food sit and chat about our lives and try to get to know each other. In fact, I get to know them so well that I have the privilege of meeting Canada’s father and crazy (drunk) grandmother.
It becomes pretty clear that Florida wants to get with me. However this juiced-out bro doesn’t stand a chance. First of all he is an uber-conservative who only likes gay people when they are hot women who make out with one another freely. Secondly and most importantly is he is a high-schooler. Yes. I hang out with people who are my brother’s age. However, I am desperate for friends so I chill with them without comment. After hot- tubbing for a bit I get ready for dinner but tell them to meet up later at Blaze, the club/bar.
After dinner I try to meet them but fail and my brother gives me a message that my wing woman wants to meet me at karaoke. In the time between my failed meeting and karaoke I wander around the ship some more. While wandering I see a few guys around my age smoking cigars. They wave me over and ask if I want to join them. I, of course, oblige because I am desperate for friends.
This is how I meet Abilene, a plucky high schooler who has the voice of Matt Saracen of Friday Night Lights. He also played football like Matt Saracen and went to a high school where FNL was filmed. So although he is in high school I find him quite adorable (in an "awww" kind of way). We hang out and talk (I use my usual get-to-know-you questions. He doesn’t know what to say- mostly because I don't think he's had a conversation with a woman before). He uses his southern charm to tell me how beautiful I am and points out all of the other guys who check me out. This is high school flirting at its finest.
We go to karaoke in hopes that I see my wing woman. However, my wing woman fails to show up. But we still stay for an hour and make fun of the drunk people who attempt to sing. The high school flirtation continues as he tickles and pokes me. I realize that I have completely forgotten about this kind of elementary flirting and am slightly charmed. I see the other boys, Florida and Canada from earlier in the day and make plans to see them at Blaze. I see Canada’s dad and he chats for a bit and his grandmother is already drunkenly screaming. This is a blast.
We eventually go to Blaze where I dance with the three high schoolers, Canada’sgrandmother and father. Canada’s dad tells me how lucky I am to be dancing with three very attractive men.
This is when I realize that I should be hanging out with people who are in college.
So after making plans for 10:30 a.m. following a three a.m. bedtime I obviously fail to meet my new wing woman. We set an additional 12:30 lunchtime just in case. Yet she did not see me or I didn’t wait long enough to see her. In either case, inviting everyone I had met the night before did have its consequences. I ended up meeting with two boys, Canada and Florida, from the previous night, both of whom I’d met and spoken to very briefly.
Anyway, we grab lunch at the Windjammer and try to get to know one another. Getting to know people on cruises is a bizarre experience because you have to cram one entire biography into a few sentences without sounding boring. Additionally when you talk to people who are 18-20 (those who are legal on the islands, yet not on the ship. The very hellish limbo that haunts those who don’t know how to avoid it or can’t have fun in the vacation purgatory) they are only able to talk about the following:
1. Not getting booze
 |
| Florida and Canada |
3. How drunk they get at home
4. How not getting smashed for two days blows
5. How hammered their friends are getting
Needless to say conversation is incredibly limited. Yet I continue to pursue the friendship.
We decide to wander around the ship and attempt to tan. Yet it is so windy that we cannot do so unless we want our iPods to blow away (in fact when we politely put our chairs away they almost fly off of the ship). So we basically wander the ship and explore – doing pretty much what most young people do. We get food sit and chat about our lives and try to get to know each other. In fact, I get to know them so well that I have the privilege of meeting Canada’s father and crazy (drunk) grandmother.
It becomes pretty clear that Florida wants to get with me. However this juiced-out bro doesn’t stand a chance. First of all he is an uber-conservative who only likes gay people when they are hot women who make out with one another freely. Secondly and most importantly is he is a high-schooler. Yes. I hang out with people who are my brother’s age. However, I am desperate for friends so I chill with them without comment. After hot- tubbing for a bit I get ready for dinner but tell them to meet up later at Blaze, the club/bar.
After dinner I try to meet them but fail and my brother gives me a message that my wing woman wants to meet me at karaoke. In the time between my failed meeting and karaoke I wander around the ship some more. While wandering I see a few guys around my age smoking cigars. They wave me over and ask if I want to join them. I, of course, oblige because I am desperate for friends.
This is how I meet Abilene, a plucky high schooler who has the voice of Matt Saracen of Friday Night Lights. He also played football like Matt Saracen and went to a high school where FNL was filmed. So although he is in high school I find him quite adorable (in an "awww" kind of way). We hang out and talk (I use my usual get-to-know-you questions. He doesn’t know what to say- mostly because I don't think he's had a conversation with a woman before). He uses his southern charm to tell me how beautiful I am and points out all of the other guys who check me out. This is high school flirting at its finest.
We go to karaoke in hopes that I see my wing woman. However, my wing woman fails to show up. But we still stay for an hour and make fun of the drunk people who attempt to sing. The high school flirtation continues as he tickles and pokes me. I realize that I have completely forgotten about this kind of elementary flirting and am slightly charmed. I see the other boys, Florida and Canada from earlier in the day and make plans to see them at Blaze. I see Canada’s dad and he chats for a bit and his grandmother is already drunkenly screaming. This is a blast.
We eventually go to Blaze where I dance with the three high schoolers, Canada’sgrandmother and father. Canada’s dad tells me how lucky I am to be dancing with three very attractive men.
This is when I realize that I should be hanging out with people who are in college.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Spring Break Dating: Day Uno
Background
I am a cruise aficionado. A cruise expert. I know my way around a cruise ship like some So-Hos know their way around a penis. I know how to get to the Windjammer (cruise-speak for cafeteria/buffet) in minutes – no matter the ship. I know the different teen hangouts and the curfews that apply to each age group as I am a Fuel Alumna. I know what underwear should not be worn on formal night (See-through anything – you’ll take the elevator due to heels and be wearing a dress. Obviously pervy 12 year olds will camp out below the glass elevators for a glimpse of anything). I know how to spot a cruise newbie from down the promenade (They can be seen rocking a lobster-red burn and cornrows. Often this combination is seen on formal nights).
Yeah, I grew up on cruises. From the ages of 15-18 I took five cruises (Yes, in the year 2006 I took 3 cruises. This is even absurd to me). However it was on my first “adult” cruise (as in the year I could not longer hang out in Fuel) I was introduced to the art of the bar pickup.
I adjusted to this bar pick-up (as a sober high school kid) as many alcoholics adapt to their first whiskey. I have the smile, the hair flip, the eye twinkle, the wiggle and perhaps most important of all – the energy.
That cruise I flirted and teased many an older man (I was the youngest person in the club most of the time because I was... well barely legal). I was able to dance and get a crowd on the dance floor. So I was christened “bar star”. Now the nickname didn’t stick (obviously) but the idea behind it did. In a room full of strangers I have some charisma that most of my friends will never know.
First Night Out
So immediately after a woefully cruise-ish (campy) performance of “Chicago” I go to the 18-20 year old meet and greet. In the past this has been the surefire way to meet people. Boy, am I wrong.
There is one – as my brother dubs “Edward” who will surely be both fucked and fucked up in minutes. There is a creepy engineer (evidently I can’t get rid of them even on vacation) and a girl.
No luck.
The girl and I end up talking to some dudes from Jersey. These guys are my normal type. Hipster-ish guys who play guitar, in skinny jeans who study bullshit things like communication and are really pretentious. These are the guys who eat the story about me being a burnt out musician right up. They, however, have been traveling all day and are a bit tired to mingle.
Although I have been traveling since ten at night (the previous night) the girl and I go to the bar/club yet again. I am armed only in a white mini that has been retired since my junior year of high school and a very oversized top. I brave the constant stream (I wish I was joking) of men who attempt to hit on me. As soon as one guy hit on me the next guy would come up to only be rejected. Whenever I hit the dance floor with my trusty Wing Woman another man would accost me and interrupt my dance (to Duck Sauce, no less). WW and I gleefully giggle at all of these old drunks and crazies who have neither shame nor pride. However all flows must be dammed and the night ends after a final wave of guys hit and leave me with a drink spilled on my white mini after continually offering shots. That is the way to woo a Spring Break dame, my friend.
Oh well, at least I know I still have a groove… or something.
I am a cruise aficionado. A cruise expert. I know my way around a cruise ship like some So-Hos know their way around a penis. I know how to get to the Windjammer (cruise-speak for cafeteria/buffet) in minutes – no matter the ship. I know the different teen hangouts and the curfews that apply to each age group as I am a Fuel Alumna. I know what underwear should not be worn on formal night (See-through anything – you’ll take the elevator due to heels and be wearing a dress. Obviously pervy 12 year olds will camp out below the glass elevators for a glimpse of anything). I know how to spot a cruise newbie from down the promenade (They can be seen rocking a lobster-red burn and cornrows. Often this combination is seen on formal nights).
Yeah, I grew up on cruises. From the ages of 15-18 I took five cruises (Yes, in the year 2006 I took 3 cruises. This is even absurd to me). However it was on my first “adult” cruise (as in the year I could not longer hang out in Fuel) I was introduced to the art of the bar pickup.I adjusted to this bar pick-up (as a sober high school kid) as many alcoholics adapt to their first whiskey. I have the smile, the hair flip, the eye twinkle, the wiggle and perhaps most important of all – the energy.
That cruise I flirted and teased many an older man (I was the youngest person in the club most of the time because I was... well barely legal). I was able to dance and get a crowd on the dance floor. So I was christened “bar star”. Now the nickname didn’t stick (obviously) but the idea behind it did. In a room full of strangers I have some charisma that most of my friends will never know.
First Night Out
So immediately after a woefully cruise-ish (campy) performance of “Chicago” I go to the 18-20 year old meet and greet. In the past this has been the surefire way to meet people. Boy, am I wrong.
There is one – as my brother dubs “Edward” who will surely be both fucked and fucked up in minutes. There is a creepy engineer (evidently I can’t get rid of them even on vacation) and a girl.
No luck.
The girl and I end up talking to some dudes from Jersey. These guys are my normal type. Hipster-ish guys who play guitar, in skinny jeans who study bullshit things like communication and are really pretentious. These are the guys who eat the story about me being a burnt out musician right up. They, however, have been traveling all day and are a bit tired to mingle.
Although I have been traveling since ten at night (the previous night) the girl and I go to the bar/club yet again. I am armed only in a white mini that has been retired since my junior year of high school and a very oversized top. I brave the constant stream (I wish I was joking) of men who attempt to hit on me. As soon as one guy hit on me the next guy would come up to only be rejected. Whenever I hit the dance floor with my trusty Wing Woman another man would accost me and interrupt my dance (to Duck Sauce, no less). WW and I gleefully giggle at all of these old drunks and crazies who have neither shame nor pride. However all flows must be dammed and the night ends after a final wave of guys hit and leave me with a drink spilled on my white mini after continually offering shots. That is the way to woo a Spring Break dame, my friend.
Oh well, at least I know I still have a groove… or something.
College Dating - Spring Break Edition!!!! The Art of the Vacationship
This Spring Break I spent the week traveling through the Caribbean so the next few entries are going to be about "dating" on spring break. As a sort of primer I will first discuss the vacationship.
For a bit of background- I am a bit notorious for my love of the vacationship. So notorious in fact, that immediately after my trip I received e-mails (somewhat in jest) asking if I fell in love. The reason I love vacationships are simple - it's a relationship with a deadline. You know that it's going to be up in a week so you're going to make it as awesome as possible. This means that you get all of the really fun times with no drama! Of course, a vacationship is much more than that.
Definition:
A vacationship is a relationship that begins and ends in the course of a vacation. This means a guilt-free, no-strings-attached hookup without the negative aspects of an actual relationship (real commitment, breakups, taking one another out on dates, drama, meeting the parents). However, most of the time this requires both parties to be willing to be exclusive for the entirety of the vacation.
Pros and Cons:
This has several advantages and disadvantages. Some obvious advantages are guaranteed booty. In a vacationship you don’t have to go to the bars every night hitting on the most spliffed-up, unattractive monster in order to get some. This is because you’ve already got your partner- so the booty hunt is over. Another huge advantage is the whole guilt-free aspect. This means that you can do what you want for a week without feeling like a slut. As wonderful as all of this stuff is, there are some disadvantages. An immediate commitment is required. This means that your time chasing tail is pretty much over because you’re going to be with one person the entire vacation duration. So there is no use trying to upgrade to a higher grade, classier partner. If you do choose to use the trade-up model the vacationship is reduced to a vacation hook-up and the feelings of guilt and sluttiness may apply.
Requirements:
Although there are a myriad of lovely advantages in having a vacationship these benefits may only apply if certain requirements are followed. The first is instant chemistry. This obviously must be mutual (this might seem obvious, but some people do not understand this aspect). The second is the willingness to just see (or insert euphemism alternative here) each other. The third is a freedom within the vacationship that allows both parties to spend time with their friends. So yes, in a vacationship flirting and titillating is allowed and even encouraged. Obviously the biggest factor of the three is the exclusivity. Both parties are only allowed to mess around with one another (unless they chose to add another or whatever). If either party strays the vacationship is degraded because it’s no longer a pseudo relationship. It is just a random vacation hook-up.
So?
Vacationships are awesome. They allow you to go after someone you never would in real life. Have a secret fantasy about a Marine, middle-aged man, mother or midget? GO FOR IT! The vacationship allows you to feel guiltless when you’re with someone your friends would never approve of. It allows you to be with someone even you wouldn’t normally approve of. So in this way the vacationship is not only a vacation from the stresses of real life and dating but it’s also a vacation from you.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
College Dating Seminar One - Facebook Flirtations: Poking and Messaging
NEW SERIES!!
I have been incredibly busy lately (midterms, birthday parties - Happy Birthday Yental CM!, musicals, etc.) and have been unable to go on very many dates as of late. Also I have been working on this project all by my lonesome (as in without the aid of Yentals) for the past few dates. This makes things much more difficult. While I have several on-going flirtations – nothing has been going on at the moment. So for these slow periods I am going to be posting “College Dating Seminars” with topics like “Tawdry Texting”, “The Lost Art of the Phone Call” and “In-Class Romance". So to start off this series I will be talking about the all-important Facebook Flirt: Poke and Message Edition. (Warning - This is obviously directed for a college audience so the language is for such. This is not for the faint of heart)
The Facebook Flirtation
When two people like one another in college – the idea is to communicate the most with the least amount of effort. This dance is perfectly demonstrated on Facebook. There are about four types of communications that can be done through Facebook (if there are more, please let me know): the poke, the message, the wall post, chat. Each of these has their own merits and varies in complexities and effort.
The Poke
The laziest of all of these is the poke. If a person thinks another is hot, cute, sexy, fuckable (or all of the above) one party will “poke” another party. This is possibly the laziest way to let a person know that you are interested. If the poke is reciprocated then the person is obviously declaring “I am fine with you poking me electronically, so obviously I am fine with a literal poke as well. And no, I don’t care what you poke me with.”
The most important part of the poke is its ambiguity. I mean really, what the hell is a poke? That’s the magic. It can be interpreted by the poker and pokee in any which way. So if the poker thinks “I wanna bang this guido.” And the pokee thinks,“Meh…Whatevs” it really doesn’t matter because the fact that the fact that the poke is taking place is all that matters. It conveys interest and this is all anyone cares about – even if it is “Meh”.
Another important thing to note is that the poke is private. No one knows when or where a poke takes place. This is much like the common "fuck-buddy". Everyone knows someone is getting some action – however the sources are questionable. The person is ashamed of their buddy and they’re not going to tell anyone about who they are poking. In this way the poke is not unlike the secret family every CEO is embarrassed to have. The poke is privately admitting that someone “beneath” you is attractive. This only happens in the world of Facebook and with the rich and famous.
Yet laziness is not the only reason for a poke. The poker is also too afraid to confront this person in real life. This may be because the poker is a "reacher" and the person he or she is poking would never reciprocate his or her un-electronic poke. This person is afraid to be rejected in reality. However if this person receives no return poke there is truly no harm. Electronic rejection is more painless than the stinging sorrows of a refusal in reality.
However, BEWARE OF THE POKE!!!! The poke mostly went out of style in high school. While the lone poker still remains – these are the people who have not gotten the hint that poking is a taboo only exercised by those who have child-molesting tendencies.
The Message
A second private form of Facebook communication that also is slothful is the message. This is the same as an e-mail except even lazier. This is because college students are slaves to Facebook so it takes absolutely no effort or energy to check the Facebook message whereas it takes time to respond to an actual e-mail because one must log into the proper channels. The Facebook message can range from the embarrassed “hey” to the lengthy confession.
This is a truly lazy form of flirtation as it is a convenience-driven form of courtship. One party opts to respond to another when they are on Facebook (and let’s face it, in college that is almost always). However, if they don’t feel like typing out a response, they don’t have to. It is passive and apathetic – like all forms of co-ed wooing.
Ultimately the message in no way differs from the e-mail except for that it is far lazier than the e-mail and it is more difficult to forward. This means that there is a little more privacy with the message. At the same time there is less spam involved in the Facebook message so you know that the person is doing a little more than pushing a forward button (therein lies a paradox).
What's next?
So this is going to be my last entry for a little while. I'm going on spring break and I will not have too much internet access. However, when I get back I will be right back at it!
Also - I am having trouble getting dates. Any and all help will be appreciated.
Anything I missed with poking or messaging? Suggestions for future seminars? Let me know below!
I have been incredibly busy lately (midterms, birthday parties - Happy Birthday Yental CM!, musicals, etc.) and have been unable to go on very many dates as of late. Also I have been working on this project all by my lonesome (as in without the aid of Yentals) for the past few dates. This makes things much more difficult. While I have several on-going flirtations – nothing has been going on at the moment. So for these slow periods I am going to be posting “College Dating Seminars” with topics like “Tawdry Texting”, “The Lost Art of the Phone Call” and “In-Class Romance". So to start off this series I will be talking about the all-important Facebook Flirt: Poke and Message Edition. (Warning - This is obviously directed for a college audience so the language is for such. This is not for the faint of heart)
The Facebook Flirtation
When two people like one another in college – the idea is to communicate the most with the least amount of effort. This dance is perfectly demonstrated on Facebook. There are about four types of communications that can be done through Facebook (if there are more, please let me know): the poke, the message, the wall post, chat. Each of these has their own merits and varies in complexities and effort.
The Poke
The laziest of all of these is the poke. If a person thinks another is hot, cute, sexy, fuckable (or all of the above) one party will “poke” another party. This is possibly the laziest way to let a person know that you are interested. If the poke is reciprocated then the person is obviously declaring “I am fine with you poking me electronically, so obviously I am fine with a literal poke as well. And no, I don’t care what you poke me with.”
The most important part of the poke is its ambiguity. I mean really, what the hell is a poke? That’s the magic. It can be interpreted by the poker and pokee in any which way. So if the poker thinks “I wanna bang this guido.” And the pokee thinks,“Meh…Whatevs” it really doesn’t matter because the fact that the fact that the poke is taking place is all that matters. It conveys interest and this is all anyone cares about – even if it is “Meh”.
Another important thing to note is that the poke is private. No one knows when or where a poke takes place. This is much like the common "fuck-buddy". Everyone knows someone is getting some action – however the sources are questionable. The person is ashamed of their buddy and they’re not going to tell anyone about who they are poking. In this way the poke is not unlike the secret family every CEO is embarrassed to have. The poke is privately admitting that someone “beneath” you is attractive. This only happens in the world of Facebook and with the rich and famous.
Yet laziness is not the only reason for a poke. The poker is also too afraid to confront this person in real life. This may be because the poker is a "reacher" and the person he or she is poking would never reciprocate his or her un-electronic poke. This person is afraid to be rejected in reality. However if this person receives no return poke there is truly no harm. Electronic rejection is more painless than the stinging sorrows of a refusal in reality.
However, BEWARE OF THE POKE!!!! The poke mostly went out of style in high school. While the lone poker still remains – these are the people who have not gotten the hint that poking is a taboo only exercised by those who have child-molesting tendencies.
The Message
A second private form of Facebook communication that also is slothful is the message. This is the same as an e-mail except even lazier. This is because college students are slaves to Facebook so it takes absolutely no effort or energy to check the Facebook message whereas it takes time to respond to an actual e-mail because one must log into the proper channels. The Facebook message can range from the embarrassed “hey” to the lengthy confession.
This is a truly lazy form of flirtation as it is a convenience-driven form of courtship. One party opts to respond to another when they are on Facebook (and let’s face it, in college that is almost always). However, if they don’t feel like typing out a response, they don’t have to. It is passive and apathetic – like all forms of co-ed wooing.
Ultimately the message in no way differs from the e-mail except for that it is far lazier than the e-mail and it is more difficult to forward. This means that there is a little more privacy with the message. At the same time there is less spam involved in the Facebook message so you know that the person is doing a little more than pushing a forward button (therein lies a paradox).
What's next?
So this is going to be my last entry for a little while. I'm going on spring break and I will not have too much internet access. However, when I get back I will be right back at it!
Also - I am having trouble getting dates. Any and all help will be appreciated.
Anything I missed with poking or messaging? Suggestions for future seminars? Let me know below!
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Date Seven (The first, second date)
The Set-Up
Two days after my first date with Date Six, I was called and asked out again. He decided to take me out to sushi. Huzzah!
The Date
He picks me up a little late. That is all right as I am usually late to everything (yeah, it’s bad). We go to the restaurant, or try to anyways. He has no idea how to get there so we drive in circles for about twenty minutes. This is also okay, except we are now late for our reservation. That is if there was a dinner reservation. When my date requests the reserved table there is no such reservation to be found. This also is tolerable, but now means there is an extra twenty minutes of time that must
be filled with conversation. Conversation is stretching a little thin after the aimless driving.
We finally get seated. Dinner is fine. The food is good but I can not get a read on this guy. He seems to be driven (he talks non-stop about his internship in Seattle. Washington is a nice state- but I am not a 90’s grunge babe so I do not care) but, he also comes of as a slight alcoholic who doesn’t know how to spend anytime outside of drinking and taking random girls out (seriously, when he wasn’t talking about Washington he was talking about drinking. One dollar pint night? I do not care). He tries to be intelligent (He sort of knows about world events and other things), but he often has no idea what the hell he is talking about (He talks about the things he kind of knows stuff about in a fake-pseudo-] intellectual jargon that often tricks uneducated and unsuspecting women).
These radical personality differences are often associated with highly unstable people who are on some type of medication. However, I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt. I think that he is trying to project who I want him to be, and he can’t decide who that is.
So we get done with dinner- he pays – we leave and get a movie. However, as we are getting the movie he gets a phone call from his very drunk roommates. He asks me if it is okay if he picks them up. I tell him I do not care (this is a mistake). So he goes to campus to get them. In order to snap them out of their drunken stupor he screams at them, blasting both my eardrums and any hope I once had for this relationship. The roommates are not ready so we drive around campus for ten minutes. When they are finally ready, my date decides to go to the liquor store (classy!!!). He has his roommates buy three bottles of wine (this is a perfect demonstration of his pseudo-intellectual bull that he was spewing. He tries to use fancy sommelier terms when describing wine, except they aren’t real wino-adjectives. He however, refuses to admit his mistake).
We start to watch the movie. However, I am tired and as science has proven, movies make women sleepy. He keeps on trying to get me to drink (yes, that fancy wine he picked up at the store). I keep on saying no. The movie is boring and the guy can’t pay attention. I am exhausted and just want to leave. He keeps on trying to get me to talk, but I am so sleepy I flail about in tangles of incoherent phrases. When the movie is done I finally get to go home where I dream of sugar plums, car chases, sketchy business and a large tundra filled of nameless men trying to get my deepest secrets.
Grade of Match: B- (I don't know... He was getting on my nerves, but he was trying so hard)
Grade of Date: B ( Nice job with dinner, but everything that happened after was a bit of a mess)
xoxo Serial Dater
Next time: ???? Is someone going to set me up????
Two days after my first date with Date Six, I was called and asked out again. He decided to take me out to sushi. Huzzah!
The Date
He picks me up a little late. That is all right as I am usually late to everything (yeah, it’s bad). We go to the restaurant, or try to anyways. He has no idea how to get there so we drive in circles for about twenty minutes. This is also okay, except we are now late for our reservation. That is if there was a dinner reservation. When my date requests the reserved table there is no such reservation to be found. This also is tolerable, but now means there is an extra twenty minutes of time that must
be filled with conversation. Conversation is stretching a little thin after the aimless driving.
We finally get seated. Dinner is fine. The food is good but I can not get a read on this guy. He seems to be driven (he talks non-stop about his internship in Seattle. Washington is a nice state- but I am not a 90’s grunge babe so I do not care) but, he also comes of as a slight alcoholic who doesn’t know how to spend anytime outside of drinking and taking random girls out (seriously, when he wasn’t talking about Washington he was talking about drinking. One dollar pint night? I do not care). He tries to be intelligent (He sort of knows about world events and other things), but he often has no idea what the hell he is talking about (He talks about the things he kind of knows stuff about in a fake-pseudo-] intellectual jargon that often tricks uneducated and unsuspecting women).
These radical personality differences are often associated with highly unstable people who are on some type of medication. However, I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt. I think that he is trying to project who I want him to be, and he can’t decide who that is.
So we get done with dinner- he pays – we leave and get a movie. However, as we are getting the movie he gets a phone call from his very drunk roommates. He asks me if it is okay if he picks them up. I tell him I do not care (this is a mistake). So he goes to campus to get them. In order to snap them out of their drunken stupor he screams at them, blasting both my eardrums and any hope I once had for this relationship. The roommates are not ready so we drive around campus for ten minutes. When they are finally ready, my date decides to go to the liquor store (classy!!!). He has his roommates buy three bottles of wine (this is a perfect demonstration of his pseudo-intellectual bull that he was spewing. He tries to use fancy sommelier terms when describing wine, except they aren’t real wino-adjectives. He however, refuses to admit his mistake).
We start to watch the movie. However, I am tired and as science has proven, movies make women sleepy. He keeps on trying to get me to drink (yes, that fancy wine he picked up at the store). I keep on saying no. The movie is boring and the guy can’t pay attention. I am exhausted and just want to leave. He keeps on trying to get me to talk, but I am so sleepy I flail about in tangles of incoherent phrases. When the movie is done I finally get to go home where I dream of sugar plums, car chases, sketchy business and a large tundra filled of nameless men trying to get my deepest secrets.
Grade of Match: B- (I don't know... He was getting on my nerves, but he was trying so hard)
Grade of Date: B ( Nice job with dinner, but everything that happened after was a bit of a mess)
xoxo Serial Dater
Next time: ???? Is someone going to set me up????
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Date Six
The Set-Up
About a day after speed dating I received an e-mail with my matches. That night I get an e-mail asking for a phone number and by the end of the week I had a lunch date lined up- the day after date number five. This posed to be only a minor ethical dilemma for me (the more major dilemma was that date five and date six have the same name- so their names are hugging relatives on my phone, causing panic any time I try to contact one of them). We agree to meet at the same place I went for date number one.
The Date
I plan on going to the restaurant a little early so he will have to search for me. This is all because I don’t remember who this guy is exactly. Remember, I went on thirty three-minute dates. Names, faces, majors, and interests all blur together. So my big plan is to have him reveal himself to me. Due to my disaster of a room, (seriously, I’m like Ke$ha, I wake up every morning, not by brushing my teeth with a bottle of Jack, but by being surrounded by glitter and garbage) I end up being about five minutes late. It is all good though, because he is already there with a perfect table, away from doors, windows and ordering counters and next to the bookshelf. This is good feug shui and a great omen.
So once again I do the typical first date thing. We chat. Our waiter comes by and asks if we know what we want to order. We had both been so busy talking we were unable to look at the menu. This happens three times. Luckily the waiter is understanding about the whole ordeal and gives is an hour (yes, one hour) before we order our food. Yes, this I am sure, is another sign of us hitting it off. Who knew speed dating would work so well?
We chat about a lot. We have enough in common, but not a ridiculous amount (so unlike match number one, it wasn’t like dating the male, extra chill, hippie me). He is interesting and has a lot of neat experiences. But he lets me talk about myself, too. He comes off as intelligent and driven, but still able to relax and have fun. We basically hit it off (or so it seemed) and he blows off his office hours so we can continue our conversation. When the bill comes and he tries to pay I tell him no, but he insists and tells me that next time I’ll get it.
After the date I go to Grandma for a post-date chat. He immediately texts me complaining that he cannot Facebook-friend me. He doesn’t text/message/call that day or anything. But 48 hours later he asks me out again.
The Results:
Well he asked me out again. So... Plus this might be the first "aww" inducing entry in the blog...
Grade of Match: B+ (We could chat forever. But you know, it was just a first date)
Grade of Date: B (Okay, these lunches are getting a little old, but it wasn't awkward, so that's awesome)
Next time: The first second date
xoxo Serial Dater
About a day after speed dating I received an e-mail with my matches. That night I get an e-mail asking for a phone number and by the end of the week I had a lunch date lined up- the day after date number five. This posed to be only a minor ethical dilemma for me (the more major dilemma was that date five and date six have the same name- so their names are hugging relatives on my phone, causing panic any time I try to contact one of them). We agree to meet at the same place I went for date number one.
The Date
I plan on going to the restaurant a little early so he will have to search for me. This is all because I don’t remember who this guy is exactly. Remember, I went on thirty three-minute dates. Names, faces, majors, and interests all blur together. So my big plan is to have him reveal himself to me. Due to my disaster of a room, (seriously, I’m like Ke$ha, I wake up every morning, not by brushing my teeth with a bottle of Jack, but by being surrounded by glitter and garbage) I end up being about five minutes late. It is all good though, because he is already there with a perfect table, away from doors, windows and ordering counters and next to the bookshelf. This is good feug shui and a great omen.
So once again I do the typical first date thing. We chat. Our waiter comes by and asks if we know what we want to order. We had both been so busy talking we were unable to look at the menu. This happens three times. Luckily the waiter is understanding about the whole ordeal and gives is an hour (yes, one hour) before we order our food. Yes, this I am sure, is another sign of us hitting it off. Who knew speed dating would work so well?
We chat about a lot. We have enough in common, but not a ridiculous amount (so unlike match number one, it wasn’t like dating the male, extra chill, hippie me). He is interesting and has a lot of neat experiences. But he lets me talk about myself, too. He comes off as intelligent and driven, but still able to relax and have fun. We basically hit it off (or so it seemed) and he blows off his office hours so we can continue our conversation. When the bill comes and he tries to pay I tell him no, but he insists and tells me that next time I’ll get it.
After the date I go to Grandma for a post-date chat. He immediately texts me complaining that he cannot Facebook-friend me. He doesn’t text/message/call that day or anything. But 48 hours later he asks me out again.
The Results:
Well he asked me out again. So... Plus this might be the first "aww" inducing entry in the blog...
Grade of Match: B+ (We could chat forever. But you know, it was just a first date)
Grade of Date: B (Okay, these lunches are getting a little old, but it wasn't awkward, so that's awesome)
Next time: The first second date
xoxo Serial Dater
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Date Five
The Set-Up
Some stories are told so many times that they become well-rehearsed masterpieces. The pauses in which the audience should “ooh” and the dramatized moments have all been practiced to perfection. The story of how I met this match is one such story.
I met him in the fall through Yental CM. CM thought that it would be hilarious to have the two of us hang out as he is an alcoholic with yellow fever and I am the correct shade of not-white (or not all white).
I was also curious about this boy, as I had been hearing legends of his drunken behavior through my roommates. I was fascinated and impressed by his creative drunkenness. The story how he used a Patron bottle to hold the foulest, cheapest vodka (all to look classy at the various trashy house parties and frats, of course) had gone around campus and spread like freshmen year mono. Of course I had to meet this guy.
Anyways, CM arranges him to come along with a group of us to see a comedian at the Union. Well his history (also known as alcoholism) in combination with my ethnicity caused the boy to get very, very drunk, all so he could hit on me. I, of course, was incredibly disturbed (okay, yes and a tiny bit amused). He tried sitting next to me and I, being sound of mind, freaked out at his drunken sexual advances and moved (he kept on trying to feel my knitted tights). He spent the remainder of the show crying about his lack of game. This obviously did not help him. Things only improved when, after the show, he tried to have an actual conversation with me, but proceeded to bash all of my guy friends. His rant lasted until the Union closed, at which time Grandma pointed out that it was much too late and dark for me to walk home by myself. She then suggested that the boy who had been hitting on me all night walk me home. Luckily I made it home safely and was able to give Grandma a lovely guilt trip the next day (she was apparently unaware of his advances).
So when Yental CM heard about my project and began picking out guys for me to date, she naturally suggested this guy. I said okay. After all, could it be worse than the first time I met him?
The Date
So the guy tells Yental CM that he is going to take me out on a date. An actual date. Not coffee, not lunch but a dinner. CM then warns me that the match is an emotional disaster and he may show up to the date drunk. She also informs me that he is employed at a fast-food sandwich shop and his idea of a dinner date might involve a speedy bite there. This is not the kind of pep-talk I am looking for and I dread the actual date. Actually, it’s not even dread. I’m terrified of this date.
The boy picks me up for dinner. I enter his car and, to my delight, I smell no alcohol. It however, becomes very clear that he lacks prodigious skills of planning. He has no idea where to take me. After working so hard to get me the first time, one would have thought he would have had a plan. We discuss where we should go as he drives his car with his legs (it takes a special type of athlete to do this). We end up going to a Chinese place. To my horror, it is the very same place my parents had
their very first date.
Once I get over my shock, I begin the usual first date interrogation. I begin to wonder how much time he spends alone as he talks nonstop. Even when he mentions that he has been talking all night and finally asks me a question, he quickly hijacks my answer. I begin to run out of questions and pick out the smallest details of his answers to encourage conversation. Eventually I give up and resort to mocking our enormously awkward and uncomfortably quiet waiter. This lasts for a surprisingly long two and half hours.
Results:
Ultimately I was expecting the date to be a lot worse than it actually was. Really, it wasn’t that bad. He is just an example of a guy who doesn’t know how to date. He knew how to go through the motions, but his execution was flawed. He wanted to take me to dinner, but didn't have a plan on where to go. He paid for dinner, but he didn’t hold the door open for me. He would answer my questions, but never bother to get to know me. I also never really got to know him. As much as I to dig into a “life story” he just kept on circling around the same three answers the whole night (I got to know a lot about internet security and creating music on a computer though, so that’s something). So again, it wasn’t as horrible as I thought it would be.
Grade of Match: C (We don’t have a lot in common, but I can see us being friends.
Maybe if he would relax and be the goof of the legends I would be more amused.
I was not incredibly interested by him, and that seems to be the number one
requirement for his partners)
Grade of Date: B (Chinese dinner. He really made an effort. He was just not good at
dating.)
Next Time: Speed Dating Results!
Some stories are told so many times that they become well-rehearsed masterpieces. The pauses in which the audience should “ooh” and the dramatized moments have all been practiced to perfection. The story of how I met this match is one such story.
I met him in the fall through Yental CM. CM thought that it would be hilarious to have the two of us hang out as he is an alcoholic with yellow fever and I am the correct shade of not-white (or not all white).
I was also curious about this boy, as I had been hearing legends of his drunken behavior through my roommates. I was fascinated and impressed by his creative drunkenness. The story how he used a Patron bottle to hold the foulest, cheapest vodka (all to look classy at the various trashy house parties and frats, of course) had gone around campus and spread like freshmen year mono. Of course I had to meet this guy.
Anyways, CM arranges him to come along with a group of us to see a comedian at the Union. Well his history (also known as alcoholism) in combination with my ethnicity caused the boy to get very, very drunk, all so he could hit on me. I, of course, was incredibly disturbed (okay, yes and a tiny bit amused). He tried sitting next to me and I, being sound of mind, freaked out at his drunken sexual advances and moved (he kept on trying to feel my knitted tights). He spent the remainder of the show crying about his lack of game. This obviously did not help him. Things only improved when, after the show, he tried to have an actual conversation with me, but proceeded to bash all of my guy friends. His rant lasted until the Union closed, at which time Grandma pointed out that it was much too late and dark for me to walk home by myself. She then suggested that the boy who had been hitting on me all night walk me home. Luckily I made it home safely and was able to give Grandma a lovely guilt trip the next day (she was apparently unaware of his advances).
So when Yental CM heard about my project and began picking out guys for me to date, she naturally suggested this guy. I said okay. After all, could it be worse than the first time I met him?
The Date
So the guy tells Yental CM that he is going to take me out on a date. An actual date. Not coffee, not lunch but a dinner. CM then warns me that the match is an emotional disaster and he may show up to the date drunk. She also informs me that he is employed at a fast-food sandwich shop and his idea of a dinner date might involve a speedy bite there. This is not the kind of pep-talk I am looking for and I dread the actual date. Actually, it’s not even dread. I’m terrified of this date.
The boy picks me up for dinner. I enter his car and, to my delight, I smell no alcohol. It however, becomes very clear that he lacks prodigious skills of planning. He has no idea where to take me. After working so hard to get me the first time, one would have thought he would have had a plan. We discuss where we should go as he drives his car with his legs (it takes a special type of athlete to do this). We end up going to a Chinese place. To my horror, it is the very same place my parents had
their very first date.
Once I get over my shock, I begin the usual first date interrogation. I begin to wonder how much time he spends alone as he talks nonstop. Even when he mentions that he has been talking all night and finally asks me a question, he quickly hijacks my answer. I begin to run out of questions and pick out the smallest details of his answers to encourage conversation. Eventually I give up and resort to mocking our enormously awkward and uncomfortably quiet waiter. This lasts for a surprisingly long two and half hours.
Results:
Ultimately I was expecting the date to be a lot worse than it actually was. Really, it wasn’t that bad. He is just an example of a guy who doesn’t know how to date. He knew how to go through the motions, but his execution was flawed. He wanted to take me to dinner, but didn't have a plan on where to go. He paid for dinner, but he didn’t hold the door open for me. He would answer my questions, but never bother to get to know me. I also never really got to know him. As much as I to dig into a “life story” he just kept on circling around the same three answers the whole night (I got to know a lot about internet security and creating music on a computer though, so that’s something). So again, it wasn’t as horrible as I thought it would be.
Grade of Match: C (We don’t have a lot in common, but I can see us being friends.
Maybe if he would relax and be the goof of the legends I would be more amused.
I was not incredibly interested by him, and that seems to be the number one
requirement for his partners)
Grade of Date: B (Chinese dinner. He really made an effort. He was just not good at
dating.)
Next Time: Speed Dating Results!
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