Feb/088
The tyranny of the "drinks" date
I'd like you to meet my new coach in life & love, Patti Stanger. I am unsure about what is happening to me, but I think my year of single dom is starting to wear on me because while watching my new trash tv addiction, The Millionaire Matchmaker, I find myself agreeing with a lot of what this insane bitch says. And After a date that ended pretty terribly a few days ago (no details please, suffice to say I will not be receiving emails from this gentleman any longer), I feel I need to institute a new rule for my dating life inspired by Patti. And that is: No more "drinks" dates. I don't know if this is a an online dating thing or a modern dude OMG I'M SO BUSY thing but I am sick of dates that are just drinks. And I refuse to go on them any longer.
Patti breaks it down like this: "coffee is cheap and drinks are an audition". My thoughts exactly. Besides, coffee dates are for meeting for a job interview or when you meet up with your friends who work downtown. And I understand that the point of a "drinks" date is just in case you have no chemistry, you can make an easy exit, but I think I am also done with impatient dudes who want to meet after exchanging two emails. But, as Patti also says, "It?s important to remember that even if your date is not your dream guy, you are gathering information and experience, called Dating Data, that you will use on future dates with someone more to your liking." (Text taken from Patti's rules!)
This is another thing that has happened in online dating: whereas previously I felt that guys were more willing to actually I don't know, learn a few things about you, now after a few emails in which you both agree that yes, you do enjoy Flight of the Chonchords and no, you don't have a corporate job, and they stalk you on Myspace to make sure you are not repulsive, dudes want to immediately jump to meeting. Like that night.
So from now on: dinner dates. Like in Patti's club, at 4 or 5 star restaurants only. So getting a burrito does not count. I believe this eliminates any person who would actually date me but it may be time for an overhaul of my "standards". If anyone knows any investment bankers who enjoy dates with dirty mouthed chubby ladies who would like to take me to any of the restaurants listed here, let me know.
Jan/080
Day 6: My Phone-In
I didn't write a blog entry last night because I was doing a little thing that you may call "sleeping". Many thanks to my pals for buying me two Coronas on an empty stomach during the Upright Citizens Brigade/ASSSSSCAT show and then taking the party across the street to fancy pants Frisson, where I consumed two delicious blood orange margaritas and where I was so hungry I actually licked all the salt off of the glass, hungry for any kind of nourishment but deciding against paying 15 dollars for a "snack" at the bar. I enjoy Frisson a lot, even though it's decidedly way more swank than I will ever be, but it's just like Vegas - you're there, so why not pay 12 dollars for a drink?
The last time I was there was early last year on a date, with a sweet but extremely awkward recent Stanford grad. We'd had an extended text message back & forth about our shared addiction to reality shows. He had a habit of coming up to the city once a week and going to fancy restaurants and he abruptly invited me to go to dinner with him via text at about 6:30pm. Even though I always follow The Rules, I know the value of a good meal and I didn't want to spend yet another Friday drunkenly eating Indian food at 3 in the morning with the alcoholic crew I was running with at the time, I accepted, but not before getting drunk at a bar beforehand.
Jan/087
Day 3: My Dispatch from Crazy Town
As we all know, I love the Craigslist. You never know what you're going to get when you post on the CL and that to me, is part of the fun. And I can't knock it - I owe my life in San Francisco to Craig. I used to get my coffee from the same place that Craig Newmark does and I loved seeing him in the morning, reading the paper. Thank you Craig for housing, love, bad dates, furniture, and the occasional gems that make me happy Gmail has an archive function. Like, the following, inspired by Jezebel's brilliant Crap Email From A Dude
Now, I had corresponded with this person a handful of times over the course of one evening and he seemed cool, if not a little overly demonstrative. But hey, I am a woman and I love flattery. Bring it on. The following day, I was in my friend's car when I recieved the following dispatch straight from Crazy Town:
Jul/077
Guys & Dolls
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I watched the infamous HBO Real Dolls (NSFW) documentary years ago and like most people, think of the Real Doll and its users as either rich sex addicts or as a punchline. But I stumbled onto this link via Jezebel yesterday morning of a BBC special (the link above will play the whole movie, which is 45 minutes long, totally worth it) made on hardcore Real Doll users expecting to be disturbed, but came away from it just feeling really sad for these guys, especially Davecat who gives us some of the movie's most cringe inducing moments, like when he "makes out" with his real doll. The British hang glider also made me feel bad, especially when you realize why he is so obsessed with his real dolls; the sad fool just hasn't gotten over the death of his momma.
Davecat was the one person in the movie that really stuck with me because I knew so many guys like him in high school and in fact, I even dated a guy very similar to him for like, six months. You know the type: uber-geeky, talks in puns & obscure movie quotes, loves British humor, insists on using British spelling and slang, complete japan-o-phile (but usually sticks to anime and japanese chicks), probably spends a lot of time playing video games and/or D & D. So, I hunted down his blog and it made me feel even worse because I KNOW if this guy had just gone to the right college he would have found the LARP/Ren Faire girl of his dreams. Or at least had sex with one. That's practically the point of small liberal arts colleges - to get nerds laid.
So, on the one hand, there's the usual feminist party line of how these guys can't deal with actual women with brains and demands and how disgusting that is but on the other hand, if these guys are so scared of relationships with actual women and would rather hang out with their real doll, then yes, get them out of the dating pool so I no longer have to deal with their bullshit. You don't want to deal with me and I sure as hell don't want to deal with you. So, really, have at it! Get your Real Doll and go to motherfuckin' town!
I mean, everyone has to get theirs and if this is how you're going to get it, then DO IT and spare us "organic" (what Davecat calls flesh & blood women) bitches your neuroses. Which is worse: guys blowing their money on real dolls or on "pick up artist" courses?
On a final note, I was blown away by how hot the Real Dolls creator, Matt McMullen is.
Total tat/skater boy hot, but still: smokin'!