hibernation

I'm not saying that I'm quitting, but I need a break. I like being an attention slut to a certain extent (like, to all ten of you), but I'm not happy with the content anymore. Similarly, I'm not real pleased with how the dating thing has gone for the past 18 months so I'm going to take a breather from that too. I'm going to miss the blogging way more than the dating.

Oddly, after 36 years you'd think I'd be fully grown-up (how very wrong you'd be) but I think I have a bit more ripening to do and this ersatz online diary could benefit from that as well. I need to work on making me better (stronger, faster, thinner, happier, more promotable), and perhaps this would enable me to write better. I'm going to concentrate on me, on making new friends, and on being a better friend. I find that, with age, friends seem to drift away with their own lives and one tends to not realize this until those friends are no longer really friends anymore. In all cases, change needs to be effected and I'm not sure it can or should be blogged.

I'll be back before long - I just need to mull some stuff. I'm not quitting; I'm hibernating.

pick a smarter idiot

Gawd do I love the comments that Velvet gets in response to her postings. The most recent is about how men are idiots. Well, at least that's what I got out of it.

You can read it yourself, but here is my completely unasked for and untested advice (well, except for having dated guys since the age of 13, plus my good friend, the Alabama Slama, has been espousing this theory for, like, ever and she knows all sorts of useful things): "The thing for both friends to remember? There is a vast ocean of more idiots [to date, screw, or marry] - and not all of them ejaculate prematurely or suffer from momentary social retardation. My motto is, 'Next!'."

In other words, pick a smarter idiot. Or at least a considerate one.

my dating life could be a skit on prairie home companion

Insomnia has plagued me these last few nights. Last night in my restless twisting and turning, I mulled the situation with this fantastically nice man I've been out with a few times. I'm very much on the fence about this guy, and think he may feel the same about me. In fact, I think that we may be on a friend trajectory.

My concerns: he seems rather rigid (lacking that "go with the flow" thing), he may be OCD about neatness or being clean, he doesn't flirt (he may not know how), and he hasn't really laid a serious kiss on me yet so I can't get a feel for whether there could be physical chemistry.

Why I've continued to go out with him: he's cute, is the most decent and kind man I've dated in YEARS, he keeps asking me out, he's very considerate... actually he may rank in the top three for consideration. At the end of our dates we head in different directions, but this guy waits with me and chats until I get on the train, and then he takes the next train.

Tonight will be the fifth date. We're seeing a play and it is a "school night", so its not like I can ply him with mass amounts of alcohol and see if he can be uninhibited or messy... And I'll be headed out of town on Wednesday, which will sort of break the pattern we had established. Dating around the holidays is a real pain in the ass. Wish me luck.

salvame

My telenovela fascination has gotten completely out of hand. It's the last week of Rebelde, so of course I'm taping it. I'm taping a teeny-bopper Mexican telenovela. I like it so much that I think they should make a US version, a la Ugly Betty. Someone get Salma on the phone...

On top of that, I've been completely dragged into the mess that is Heridas de Amor and Mundo de Fieras. The latter is pretty awful. Well, so is the former for that matter. The only saving grace on Univision is La Fea Mas Bella, which is the Mexican version of Yo Soy Betty, La Fea, which is the basis for Ugly Betty (produced by the lovely Salma Hayek) and the whole reason why I got started on this sendero de locura. See? I know way too much about this mierda for a white chick. I tell people that I'm watching to keep my Spanish skills sharp, to help teach the Supremes a thing or two about their father's ancestors' lengua. I mean, es verdad, yo hablo tanto mas espanol que mi cunado or su familia, pero this is redonkulous. (At the same time, I have not figured out how to input proper Spanish puncutation in blogger. I'm lazy.)

Obviously I wouldn't have this problem if I had cable. Other than Univision and PBS, and new episodes of LOST, there isn't much worth watching. Now, my obsession is moving into the Latino music realm. And, like my telenovela obsession, my taste in Latino music es horrible. Evidence? My latest iTunes playlist:
1. Salvame - by/por RBD (from the Rebelde novela - this show is quite the moneymaker)
2. Estoy Perdido - by/por Luis Fonsi (who is hawt)
3. Try a Little Tenderness - by/por the Barrio Boyz
4. Te Aviso/Te Anuncio (Tango) - by/por Shakira
5. Rebelde - RBD
6. Whenever, Wherever - Shakira
7. I Like It - The Blackout Allstars
8. La Tortura (Shaketon Remix) - Shakira

To be quite frank, I never really had good taste in music. For example, I might be hitting the Black Cat tomorrow with The Multicultural Spitfire and her esposo for their New Order vs. Duran Duran dance party. I'll totally be rooting for Duran Duran.

little more seratonin in me

So, I LOVELOVELOVE this little movie. I caught the link from another dcblogger a while back and can't remember who it was to give them credit. Blame it on the xanax, yo.

I'm Bringing Paxil Back

There are just too many fantastic things about this video. That, and I secretly loved Justin's original version (which happens to my sister's groove - she loved the video too and since she's in the health field I think that pretty much provides a major stamp of approval).

Disclaimer: By no means am I making fun of depression, anxiety, OCD, or other important and serious ailments that might be particularly heightened by stress we feel due to the holiday season. In fact, I'm all about finding your happy place via prescribed medicines, sleep aids (waiting for the Lunesta to kick in, for that matter), therapists, safe but fun sex, small amounts of excellent chocolate, and by buying yourself that glorious shirt, Marc Jacobs handbag, or bauble. Depression is a serious disease often exacerbated by the holidays. If the video does not cheer you up or make you jones for some happy pills so that you can cheer up, then please contact your doctor immediately! But, bringing Paxil back may not bring your sexy back (sad side effect, so do research on the sexier drugs...). Ohh - I think the Lunesta just kicked in...

important v pointless

Supremes = Important
Work = Mostly Pointless (getting paid is nice)

Sometimes you have to watch a Monty Python movie to get your priorities straight.

Originally, I took this job thinking I might be able to make a difference. The agency has, sadly, ended up a victim of the rot and dysfunction occuring at much higher levels. This has resulted in a sort of frenzied scramble to cover asses, and nobody is looking out for anybody else. Accordingly, my New Years Resolutions are going to be to stop stressing over my job, to not work more than 80 hours per pay period, and to plan a decent vacation. This year, I'm hoping it will be to see the British Bombshell and her beau. I'm officially done worrying about that place and my performance; in the long run it doesn't matter. Goodbye "excellent" performance ratings and my IBS, and hello to "satisfactory" and having a social life.

The Nephew had a Ralphie moment when they went to visit Santa Claus a couple weeks ago (my niece is having a Randy moment in the photo above...). After spending way too much time in line for a 6 year old, he got up to Santa and forgot what he wanted for Christmas. Fortunately, Santa was kinder to the Neph than he was to Ralphie... he was allowed to run out to my sister, where he said, in a panic, "I forgot what I want for Christmas!!!" My sister reminded him that he wanted PlayMobil stuff, and Santa sweetly responded, "I think we can take care of that for you, honey."

Good lord, do I love Christmas. Only 10 more nights till some much needed downtime with the family...

I didn't realize till today that A Christmas Story and The Meaning of Life were both released in 1983: "so remember when your feeling very small and insecure / how amazingly unlikely is your birth / and pray that there intelligent life somewhere up in space / cause there's bugger all down here on Earth."

i hate extremes

This dating thing is just so utterly vexing. Last night I went out on the fourth date with the nicest chap (the guy I ran away from on our first date). He is very appreciative and respectful. And, he is either extremely cautious, asexual. or doesn't find me attractive. I can handle anything but but asexuality as the idea of not being into sex is sooooo depressing. The guy I went out with tonight? Complete opposite. French/Greek composite from Greece, says he's not a chauvinist pig when he actually is one, and just wants to get it on. So, if any of you girls out there have been corresponding with a guy who sounds like this on eHarm, let me know...

Apparently, it is too much to ask for a respectful man who actually likes women and thinks its a good idea to get to know each other before launching into a sexual relationship, but will be into having a marathon kissing session while we're still trying to figure things out.

Okay. I just read that last paragraph and determined that blogging under the influence is not the best idea. (Of course, the Greek got me drunk to try and take advantage - can't necessarily blame him as I was rocking the eyeliner and hair tonight.)

So, fourth date with Mr. Slow But Maybe Steady (SBMS) was Casino Royale (our third date was the Last King of Scotland with the gorgeous James McEvoy - sigh). Damn. He is the best Bond ever. I did not need to see sucy amazing testosterone-run-amock with such a chaste man. Daniel Craig was hot to start with, but he is breathtakingly sexy and feral as Bond. At a very primitive level, brutality and violence is such a turn on. I had no idea if SBMS realized how affected I was by the movie... Part of me wants to ply him with many drinks to see if we can get beyond the chaste peck on the lips thing we have going on. I want to know if this boy can really kiss - if there is any heat in it... Oh god. So setting myself up for disappointment.

Well, must go deal with my hiccups now and pass out. Please send any extra cherubs or other minor gods of love in my direction. I could use the help.

second verse same as the first!

On Wednesday night, I had a second date with the guy who likes communing with nature (let's call him Nature Boy). After our first date I was 100% certain I'd never hear from him again: he ended the date relatively early on a Saturday night, he's all about nature and I'm all about avoiding it, he didn't try to hug or kiss me, and I never got that particular vibe... In any case, he proved me utterly wrong by emailing the following Monday, by asking me out again, and by phoning twice in the intervening days between first and second dates.

How was the second date? Pretty much the same so I'm still not sure. I thoroughly enjoy my time with him as he's quite literate and funny (and attractive), but I just can't get a sense of his level of interest. My hypotheses are:
1. He thinks I'm great friend material;
2. He's still trying to figure me out;
3. He's the decent sort;
4. He's juggling multiple women and is being decent about it;
5. He's seriously closeted; or
6. I was stupid enough to mention the blog on the first date and now he's dying to know what I've written about him and so is sticking around long enough till I cave and provide him with the url.

I'm thinking it is a combination of a couple of those...

Anyways, right before the date ends he considerately asks about my weekend plans (his weekend is already obligated) and says that he will try to call. (And, for my neurotic friends - you know who you are - he has not checked his online profile since about the time of our first date...)

Due to my already busy social schedule this week, I had to decline the offer of a Friday night movie third date from the other nice man - the one that I ran away from at the subway. He laid a kiss on me after our second date. It was not a great kiss, but he seems incredibly decent and has freckles, and I can work with freckles. I declined (but did suggest alternate days/times) because this week has been utter hell for me professionally and I really need to spend my Friday night in the fetal position as a result. I haven't really given this one a nickname yet.

Work has been awful. I should be taking notes on the increasing bureaucratic paranoid insanity taking place in this megalith of an agency, but can't imagine anyone ever believing any of it to be true and I don't care to get "dooced" at the moment. I spent the better part of Wednesday on the verge of furious tears (an extremely rare thing for those of you who don't know me) after being humiliated in front of colleagues; apparently my polite yet firm questioning of policy was considered insubordinate and rude, so I was chided as if I were six instead of a 36 year old with somewhat considerable experience. It never would have happened if I had been a man. I'm still fuming over that. Since I really don't care to ruin my career at this point, my only consolation is knowing that karma is one mean bitch. Also, I've been stabbing a voodoo doll in the groin and that too makes me feel better. Shape up or watch your genitals shrink and fall off, you chauvinistic sphincters!