Thursday, May 26, 2011


The blog has been somewhat neglected in the past few weeks, but lo and behold, I got myself a date. My friends and I now hope for one of two things - 1) the date goes awesome, and I go on a second date, etc. OR 2) the date goes so horribly awry that only an awesome blog entry could result. Seeing as this is a blog entry, you can guess which way it went.

I have been on a free dating site for a while, and after two failed attempts upon my arrival in LA, I pretty much ignored it. The site does, however, send me a message when a person sends me a message on the site, so sometimes I'll go in and clear out my inbox to rid it of all the "hi how r u" idiots who can't form a complete sentence or punctuate a question, let alone ask something that might garner an interesting response. After a few weeks of radio silence, a message pops up in my email. The preview showed proper grammar and an actual question, so I had to check this one out.

Turns out said poster was a stand up comic, who was cute, my age, not religious, and educated enough to put thoughts into sentences in a manner that didn't register as "DURRRRRRRRRR" in my brain, so I responded. We later became facebook friends, and I was asked on an actual date for the following week.

The day of the date, he messaged me and told me that he could still go, but had to leave early because he had to fill in for a comic who had dropped out of a show, but invited me to come along and see it. I agreed, thinking what better way to get to know this guy than see him perform. To be honest, I'm nervous - I'm almost always the funny one on dates, which really is a warning sign that I'm dating the wrong people, but to date someone who is potentially funnier than me and therefore might not find me funny was daunting. I was a little more awkward than usual, and, well, drank a whole beer (yay for the 7% alcohol one I chose).

My date seemed nice, but wasn't exactly the booming personality I expected from a stand up comic. I figured it was just first date jitters, and after our drinks we headed down the street to the club. This is where it gets weird.

We walk in, and of course he knows everyone. A show is going on, so he tells me to have a seat in the lobby and takes over working the door while another guy goes to the restroom or something. I sit with no interaction from him for at least 20 minutes, at which time he tells me the show is about to start so I should go in and find a seat. This is the only discussion we have. I go in, sit in the back, and order some cake to hopefully sober my poor, pathetic drunk ass up.

He is about the third comic to go on, and I was ready for a good show. Sadly, I was less than impressed. In fact, my competitive nature came out and part of me wanted to get up there and show all these people up. However, once his routine was over I was unsure of what to do. Should I leave because he was done? Was he going to come back and sit with me til the end of the show? Would he just let me watch it while he did other things and find me after it was over? I was confused, and not wanting to be rude to the person onstage, I kept my seat.

Thinking this show would be 4-5 comics, I was ready to go home about 30 minutes later, but noooo, they'd found every semi-funny comic in the city of Burbank to take up my time til nearly 11:30pm on a work night. I paid for my cake, eagerly awaited the end of the show where I wouldn't look like a douche for walking out, and wandered into the lobby, where I expected to find my date waiting. No such luck.

Still part of me was convinced he'd come check back when he thought the show was done, so I waited in the lobby, talking to other comics that came and went for about 30 minutes. Finally, frustrated and exhausted, I asked where this fucker was. No one knew. "Maybe he's watching the other show." Ok, where the hell is that? Someone walked me to an unmarked door and led me into a large empty room where the show had obviously ended a while before. Any other leads? "Oh, he might be at the bar."

The bar? Where the hell was this "bar"? I was escorted through the large auditorium to the other (completely unknown to anyone who came into this entrance) side of the club, which did in fact have a bar. A bustling bar, complete with my date and a beer.

"Hey, how did you like the show?" He asked when he saw me.

Confused as to why I was left to fend for myself on a DATE, I replied "Not bad, I enjoyed it."

His demeanor suggested he wasn't a huge douchebag, but merely COMPLETELY CLUELESS. He still seemed at least as interested as he was at the bar, and when I told him I had to go because it was 12FUCKING30am and I had to be at work at 8:30 the next day, he seemed surprised. He told me it was nice meeting me, gave me a hug, and asked if he could text me sometime. I said sure.

WHAT JUST HAPPENED? I was basically on a date for 4 hours and saw my date for 30 minutes. This could have been solved VERY easily. For instance:
1) I have to do some work at the door of this other show, meet me in the bar when you're done with this show.
2) He could have come SAT WITH ME in the audience after his set.
3) He could have come in and pulled me out of the audience after his set to have drinks with him.
4) He could have met me in the lobby after the show was over.
OR, as he chose,
5) He could have left me to watch an hour and a half show by myself, assuming I would figure out where he was, since no one told me there was a "bar" in the building and there were no signs to indicate this fact, and when I didn't show up in said bar til 12:30am knowing the show was over, he just stayed in the bar and drank beer with his friends.

So why is an attractive stand up comic (who sadly isn't as funny as I'd hoped) still single? Maybe because he has a complete inability to communicate and no common courtesy to even check on his "date" during the course of a four-hour evening.

I left confused. I wasn't angry, I wasn't disappointed - I hadn't gotten to know him enough to see if I even liked him - I just had no idea how a human could be so completely clueless about how to conduct himself on a date. He opened doors, bought my beer, then abandoned me in a rubix cube of a comedy club full of mediocre comics when I needed to get my ass home to bed so I could be a productive member of society the following morning.

Seriously, people. USE YOUR BRAINS.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011


Yeah, this isn't a hilarious story about some dude puking on his shoes or awkward hugs or cougars, I'm going to bitch a little bit because every once in a while, I really dislike being single.

I'm generally a cup half full type person (although recently I heard "The cup is always full - half air, half water." Touche) when it comes to my singledom, knowing that eventually I will find the right person and I will not die alone etc. You know when that stops? When being single is actually a detriment to my life and finances. How, you ask?

All of my friends are in relationships. ALL OF THEM. Even the ones I thought would be single as long as I was have coupled up. Boys and girls, gays and straights. All coupled. Now we're in what some affectionately refer to as "wedding season." It's not the weddings I dislike, or that get me into a tizzy about being single (I love weddings, no better reason to dress up and get free food and booze), but it's the preparations for said weddings. For instance, HOTELS AND TRANSPORTATION.

Couples ALWAYS have someone to split a room with. I don't. I have to keep looking and begging and looking for one or two other people to bring the massive charge of a hotelroom at the venue down enough for me to afford to attend. And don't even start with me about "hotels down the street." Sorry, if I'm staying somewhere ALONE, I'm not staying somewhere without all my friends. That's just sad, and drunk in the middle of the night it's dangerous.

Four people fit in a car better than 5, so two couples easily ride together. Where do you put your 5th wheel? I'm not very big, but I can easily make a 5 hour drive uncomfortable when I'm ass-to-ass with the others in the backseat. And if I had the money to fly, who the hell would come pick me up? Would I have to pay for a taxi ALONE to the hotel?

Being single is a financial drain. Seriously. Add it up. Hotel room for one, airfare because I can't ride in someone's car (OR I drive ALONE 5 hours, wasting gas and putting mileage on my car), taxi fare from the airport (or public transit fare). Meanwhile, if I was in a couple I'd pay for half a hotel room and have a practically free ride since gas would be split four ways.

In my group of friends, it never feels like I'm super single when we go out. No one is ooey gooey in the corner making out, everyone is having a good time with everyone else, and couples statuses are forgotten for the moment. We're all just friends. I never feel uncomfortable hanging out with a bunch of couples. That's why I rarely bitch about being single. That, and people don't want to hear about it.

It's only when my single status is brought forth as an obstacle to inclusion in activities that I become upset about it. I don't need it thrown in my face. I'm perfectly happy on a day to day basis, although I would like to get out more. Even numbers work out better. It's a fact of life. In cars, at tables, in hotelrooms, even when BUYING HOT DOGS. No one sells 5 hot dogs in a package. Every hot dog has a mate.

Couples get invited by other couples to do things. Go to dinner, do some day activity, see movies. No one actively says "don't invite the single one" but it's easy to forget when you start seeing your friends as BobandJane and TomandSara that
you have one friend out there who is just Friend1.

And riddle me this, coupled-up does one MEET new people of the single nature without GOING OUT? Coupled up people either don't really want to go out as a threesome with you or turn out to be terrible wingmen. Really we singles need each other so we can go out and do our single thing - find people to date. Counting right now I have 2.5 single friends within driving distance (.5 referring to a friend who promised to dump her boyfriend when she got a job, and she got one...).

I feel like I'm just sitting here wasting time. Go to work, hang out with my coupled up friends, sleep, repeat. Other than the work part, I like my life, but I need to get out there and make some efforts. And I need people to do that with.

So you damn couples GO FIND ME SOME SINGLE FRIENDS!! :)

Friday, May 6, 2011


And when I say wrong, I mean OFF THE CHARTS wrong.

I had the misfortune of landing my worst job as my FIRST job, rather than nicely stuck in the middle of a career as it is for some folks. Not only was it in a place where I fit in about as well as a goat at an AA meeting, but I had been dumped by my boyfriend about 1.2 hours before beginning said job. Needless to say I was on the brink of a mental breakdown.

My first day I was taken around by one of my coworkers and introduced to everyone. He mentioned that I would be working in the same court as Jenny, so I should meet her. He emphasized how smart and nice she was, and how she would be a really great teacher for me, but also seemed to indicate there was something a little off about her. I figure this out when I walked into her office and was told to sit and wait for her to return from court.

Jenny's office was an animal mausoleum. She had random pelts of various living creatures nailed haphazardly about her office, in places a normal attorney would put say, a law degree or bar license. Instead, she had an entire mountain lion skin, most of a beaver, a few other unrecognizable pelts, and a rabbit fur being used as a doily with a girly lamp and candle resting on it. Even this did not prepare me for what I was about to encounter.

Jenny walks in to her office, and true to my coworker's word, was very nice and welcoming. She was, however, somewhat off-putting...perhaps this had to do with the 3 inches of black eyeliner, bleach blonde semi-straightened hair, or the skirt so short I would feel uncomfortable wearing it in Vegas. To put it bluntly, she looked like some sort of crazy streetwalker who happened to have clothing that matched and didn't have holes.

At first, I thought the eyeliner was a mistake. Perhaps she slept in it, perhaps it had been smudged since she put it on. It was literally about a centimeter thick both above AND below her eyes, and not in a smooth and calculated way - more of "a Parkinson's patient did my makeup" way. Her skin was caked with too tan foundation, and her lips lined with a darker color than she used as lipstick. Overall, a ginormous disaster.

When you see a person dressed and made up like this, you automatically make assumptions - she's a hard partier, she's a slut, she's had every guy in the office, she uses her sexuality to get places. Sadly, for Jenny, NONE of these were even remotely true. Turns out, she was a VIRGIN, loved Jesus more than life itself, and rarely if ever drank alcohol. She was also incredibly smart, graduating at the top of her class in law school (which, as a former law student, I know just how hard that is).

I still can't quite get over the disconnect. This girl would wear leggings as pants. Leggings as pants TO COURT. Her top would be a tank that extended just to the edge of her butt, so it wasn't entirely covered, thereby giving everyone a good view of her ass in a thin layer of legging. She only wore black, but she'd wear sparkly silver open-toed party heels with most things. And on the days she decided to wear a skirt, well, let's just say she couldn't sit down in court, or bend over. She even admitted she had them tailored shorter than they came.

So one night another coworker goes out with Jenny and her friends to a bar downtown. She's dressed reasonably, but Jenny and company are all dressed in very tight, provocative outfits with the caked-on makeup and obviously fake hair. One guy, I was told by the coworker, actually came up to them and told them they looked like whores - instead of getting upset, they were adamant that he had no idea what he was talking about - they looked "classy."

Further proof that she had no concept of the fact that she looked like a crack whore was given by another coworker who met her for brunch one Sunday. Jenny was wearing what she wore to church that morning, which was as short and tight as the shit she wore out drinking. The worst part was, SHE TAUGHT SUNDAY SCHOOL. CHILDREN. I can only IMAGINE what their parents thought when they came to pick them up and saw what their supposedly Jesus-loving teacher was wearing. She literally looked like she'd woken up, not brushed her hair, not fixed her makeup from the night before, and came to church in whatever she wore out because she'd slept at some dude's house.

Now I don't know Jesus too well, but from what I've heard I don't think he really feels too enthusiastic about revealing clothing. And since Jesus was literally this girl's LIFE, I'm surprised this fact missed her by a mile. That, and if you don't consider CHURCH or COURT to be a conservative occasion, when WOULD you consider wearing something more covering??

It was pretty obvious that this girl would attract the wrong kind of guys. The ones at the bar that saw her and thought they could take her home if they bought her a drink, then send her on her way in a cab when they were through with her - not the good Christian boy she was actually looking for. And the good Christian boys, well, nothing screams "I love Jesus" more than short skirts, overdone makeup, and the collecting of dead animals.

Something that is important in both my degrees - advertising and law - is "KNOW YOUR AUDIENCE." Who do do you want to attract? If it's not guys in Affliction shirts with 20 STDs, don't dress like you're probably not wearing panties.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011


Disclaimer: When I dated this person I was 22. I had just gotten out of a long (4.5 year) serious relationship, so I can't say I was particularly experienced in, well, anything. Obviously not choosing guys, as this horrifying story will tell you.

The only reasons I even acknowledge that I dated this person was because a) it was unfortunately a year and a half of my life and b) friends had the unfortunate experience of meeting this individual, and therefore I can't deny it ever happened.

I think back now and honestly cannot remember why I liked this guy, but we're going to go with physical attraction because I think that was the initial kicker. When you're 22, you don't see warning signs like "Hi, I'm 26, don't have a college degree, and am a professional waiter." I made up excuses like "Oh, he's going to go back to school" and "He's really smart he just wasn't ready." WRONG.

Had we lived in the same city and I had not been attending law school, thereby being somewhat busy, I might have discovered the crazy before, oh, a year and a half passed. I probably would have figured that shit out within 2 weeks, but no, now I have this scarlet letter on my relationship history that forever mars me. I suppose list format will be more appropriate, because it's just so painfully long.

1) CONSPIRACY THEORIST - I should have figured out something was wrong the first time he told me that Bush planned 9/11, but being a Bush-hater, I was really willing to hear anything negative about him, whether it be "Bush kills puppies" or "Bush and Osama Bin Ladin have tea and crumpets each Wednesday." His favorite show was on cable access, which was basically an angry nutjob like him throwing out things like "celebrity relationships are all fake to distract us from the government corruption."

He was convinced that the government was trying to poison him with flouride in the water, and that it was not put there to strengthen our teeth, so he spent $200+ to put a huge water filtration system in his tiny ass 300sq ft apartment. He would scream at me when I filled up the ice tray with tap water, and wouldn't even cook with it.

Pesticides weren't to *gasp* kill insects on plants, they were to pollute our food so we'd become some drone society that couldn't make decisions. Vaccines were to dumb down our children. Funny, I had all my necessary vaccines and managed to make it into a top 50 law school, but this fucker couldn't even graduate community college.

2) ANGER MANAGEMENT - Now add the "really fucking crazy" to "I can't control my temper" and it gets really fun from here. He'd come home from a bad day at work (dude, you're a waiter, your life is BAD DAYS) and punch the wall. I flat out told him if he ever laid a hand on me I'd legally fuck him so bad he couldn't ever get another job, which deterred him. However, it didn't deter him from acting like a complete moron in public.

Once we were at a Mexican restaurant and we both ordered margaritas. He didn't specify whether he wanted it on the rocks or frozen, so the waiter brought him the default frozen. Immediately he flips out, instead of saying "excuse me, I meant to ask for this on the rocks," he decides to scream at the waiter for being incompetent and said "a good waiter would have ASKED ME." GET OFF YOUR HIGH HORSE, YOU ARE A WAITER YOU WORTHLESS ASSHOLE. He was rude to the guy all night. When the waiter left once, I turned to him and said "I am absolutely humiliated to even be seen with you right now. I don't EVER want to see you treat another person like that, and if you say one more rude thing, I'm walking out of this restaurant and this is over. You need to learn some respect you fucking asshole."

To this he made up excuses as to why he was a better waiter than this fellow, so intentionally when the check came, he paid, and I pulled the waiter aside, in full hearing of Idiot, and handed him a 20 and said "I'm very sorry about the way he acted tonight, it was unnecessary and he embarrassed me. It will never happen again." Emasculation complete.

3) DUMB AS A FUCKING STUMP - When your girlfriend is in law school, you probably can't pull the wool over her eyes about your own complete lack of intelligence. For one, he lied about his SAT score - it came up in a conversation when he mentioned that one of the high schoolers that worked at his restaurant got a perfect score, then asked me mine. I replied, and apparently he felt threatened, because he upped his by a good 200 points I later found out. Just flat out lied.


I'd thought about dumping him for a few months, but since we saw each other so rarely it wasn't pressing. One weekend I go visit with the intention of breaking up with him, and because of this, I'm pretending I'm on my period so he doesn't try to hook up. We're about to go eat, when I say I have to use the restroom. When I emerge, he has a look of shock and complete disbelief on his face.

"What?" I asked him.

"Do you wear tampons?"

"Um, yeah...why?"

"Did you just go pee?"

"Yes...I'm confused...what's the issue here?"

"How did you pee with a tampon in?"

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT? At this point my disdain and horror is showing on my face, and I condescendingly ask him "How many holes do girls have?" to which he replied "TWO." Holding my laughter, I ask him what they're used for. "Well, one is for poop and the other is to pee and have babies."

I was so in shock that I laughed, thinking he was kidding, then realizing he wasn't. I honestly don't remember what happened after this that particular day. Suffice it to say, we went to eat, I managed to get explosive diarrhea which I promptly used to destroy his bathroom, and then left for home. I called him a day later and broke up with him. He still thinks it's because of the distance, and not because he was the most worthless fuck I've ever come in contact with. At least I left a really gross toilet for him to clean up.

I am literally so embarrassed by having dated this person for any significant length of time that I would honestly RUN the other direction if I ever came in contact with him. Luckily he's blocked on all my chats, Facebook, and the like, so he'll never find me, especially since I'm 1500 miles away from where I'm last believed to have lived. But because of this, I feel like no matter my successes, I can never reach the actual top because of this indiscretion.

It's like saying "Yeah, I'm king of the world, I own every landmass on the planet, BUT I fucked a donkey in college and it's on YouTube."