How to Build a Garden (Video)

As I was perusing my computer files, I found some DIY project footage I never finished putting together.  If you’ve met me, you’d know that I’m just kinda more like “let’s see how this goes,” than like “let’s plan this out thoughtfully and logically.”  I also from time to time set up a camera before I “see how this goes,” in order to document how it goes.  Last time, it involved taking down a Christmas tree [How to Take Down a Christmas Tree (Video)].

Rewind to February.  This time… it was a garden.  I had seen a post on Pinterest that looked super cute and easy to make.

garden

So I tricked my sister into coming to Home Depot with me (“I’ll buy you an ice cream cone?”), and got to work.  A little taste of our trip to the store:

“Can I help you?”

“Yes, please.  We need wood.”

“What kind of wood?”

“I don’t really know.”

You can imagine how the rest went.  We were thankful for patient employees, and the fact that the store wasn’t closing anytime soon, because we definitely over-stayed our welcome.

I started the garden on my own.  When it came time to paint, and lift heavy bags of soil, I took a break for a bit.  Thankfully, around this time, Gingey entered my life.  Upon his insistence on a Sunday afternoon, we spent our fifth or sixth date at Home Depot, followed by a few hours in my side-yard, finishing up the garden by painting, lining the bottom, and planting… while listening to Van Morrison and drinking a few Bud heavy’s, of course.

As much fun as we had that day, testing our teamwork skills, and revealing some of my weaknesses [ie. things that involve coordination and a brain], if the fate of the garden was any sort of indication of the fate of our relationship, we should have been broken up a long time ago.  I’m not the best at keeping things alive… And when I got a puppy, I decided if I was going to choose one thing to put my effort into keeping alive, it would be the animal.  Unfortunately, after a few delicious tomatoes, and a cauliflower and broccoli plant that looked like they were beginning to bud, the cute little garden went to shit (excuse my French).

Cheers to “seeing how it goes,” … garden style:

Hopefully my next project will have a better long-term outcome.

Tata for now, munchkins.

xoxo Gossip Girl

 

 

 

Date at the Drive-In

I woke up this morning at 5am, on the couch with an empty bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos on the floor next to me, the TV still blaring, and all of the lights on.  It’s Tuesday.  It took me a couple of minutes to figure out where I was and what I did last night.

What did I do last night?  Ironically enough, I went on the most tame and sober first date I’ve ever been on.  Then I watched the Bachelor and fell asleep in the middle.

I just started talking to this guy yesterday morning.  All I knew was that his name was Toby, he surfed on really big waves, and he’ll be going to Darfur in August with an NGO to work with people with war trauma.

After a short conversation via text, he asked me to go for a “stroll on the boardwalk.”  I declined, due to the fact that Sunday night was NOT the most tame and sober night of my life, and I was looking forward to sweatpants and a nap after work.  Not “strolling” around the boardwalk.  He then came back at me with an invite to the drive-in movie theater instead, claiming he’d have blankets and pillows, and would be going with his friend and a date.  I’m not sure why, but I felt I couldn’t pass up an invite to a drive-in, because that seems like a pretty rad thing to do with someone you’ve never met before, and I’d never been to a drive-in.  I mean, how 60’s of us.  And I figured the friend would be a good buffer.  So I agreed.

I come home from work, and start getting ready.  My roommate T asks me what I’m doing.

“Going to a drive-in with some guy, his friend and another girl.”

“What drive-in are you going to?”

“I don’t know.”

“What movie are you seeing?”

“I don’t know.”

“What does the guy do?”

“No idea.”

“Did his friend meet his date on Tinder?”

“I don’t know.”

“Court, do you know anything??”

“No.  Well… his name is Toby…  I’m going to get murdered, aren’t I?”

“Drive-in” is definitely code for murder.  Crap.  I should have thought this over a little more.  Toby is prompt and rings the doorbell at 7pm to pick me up.  I told him beforehand I had a watch dog… Just in case he was thinking of doing anything creepy.  I made sure T and V got a good look at him before we headed out the door.

He was a gentleman and walked around the car to open the door for me.  Wowwwwyyyy.  I probably made an awkward comment.  Yeah, I definitely did.  Guys don’t usually do that.  The drive-in was really far away.  Like really far.  Like I’m pretty sure if we had driven another half a mile, we would have been in Mexico.  This gave us a lot of time to talk.  Although in the first few minutes of conversation I found out he had never drunk an alcoholic beverage before in his life.  Wait, what?  Most of my weekends (and, ok… some week days) are spent at the bars with friends, or at events that revolve around drinking alcoholic beverages.  Is it wrong that I was ready for him to turn the car around at that point and bring me home?

That wasn’t an option.  As I learned more about Toby, I came to realize he is pretty much the most interesting human being I’ve ever met.  First of all, his job is literally chasing swells around the world.  Literally.  If there’s a big swell somewhere, he has a guy who calls him, tells him what plane to get on, meets him in whatever country it is, and then drives him to the wave.  When I say “drives him to the wave,” I mean he drives him to the wave even if there are no roads that lead there.   He holds a world record in surfing the biggest recorded wave paddled out t0, and his time out of the water requires a novel all in its own.  He told stories about hunting down rapists in Africa, and his journalism in foreign war zones… stories that I may had questioned if I didn’t see photos and videos on his iPhone.  Like, basically… I want his life.

He was pretty good-looking but also totally dorky and awkward.  I enjoyed his company and conversation, but I most definitely didn’t want his hand on my back while we were lying in his Prius with the back seats folded down and the hatch up, watching the first movie.  But that’s where he put his hand.  I also didn’t want him to pull my head in to try to kiss me, out of no where.  Which he also did.

I’m not sure why you think that you can hang out with me for an hour, not give me any alcohol, and then I’ll want to kiss you?  No.  No no no no no no no no.  I pulled my head away so hard I think I got whiplash.  When he asked what was wrong, I exclaimed, “I’m not making out with you!”

I felt like I was in 8th grade.  Like what 36-year-old thinks this is a normal situation?  Being in the back of a car at a DRIVE-IN MOVIE with someone you’ve NEVER MET BEFORE… I sure as hell don’t want to make out with you right now!  I’m still trying to justify agreeing to this idea in the first place.

His friend finally showed up… with a date who I learned, he had only met once… but they parked a few cars down from us so basically it was only introductions.  I legitimately felt like I was in high school and the two guys were having a contest to see who could make-out first…  Although when I suggested that’s what was happening,  Toby acted like that was a preposterous idea.  If there was any sort of bet, he most certainly lost.

At one point he was trying to read my palm.  I figured he was going to say something really cheesy.  He kept looking at it.

I said, “I know you’re going to say something really dorky.”

“No.”

He looked at it, while tracing the lines with his finger… for so long that I legitimately started getting scared.  My brain went into overtime, and I convinced myself that he was going to tell me he sees a murder in my very near future, and then he was going to stab me with something he had hidden under the blankets and dump me in the back of this big field behind the dumpsters… or even better yet, just throw me over the border into Mexico and be done with me.

At that point, I pulled my hand away and he finally said, “It says you’re beautiful!”

OMGGGGGGGGG get me outta here.

I was sooo tired, which I was sure to mention multiple times.  It wasn’t that I didn’t like talking to him;  it was just a weird situation.  I wasn’t sure if I should be watching the movie or continuing conversation.  We were in the back of a Prius in a random field far from home, and there was no wine… or beer.  Just so many things wrong with this picture.  I didn’t even know his last name.   I wanted to go home.

On our loonnnggg ride home we talked a lot more.  Apparently his aggressive make-out advances work “90% of the time”  (I asked).  But the whole drive-in was a first for him as well.  He got to my house and turned the car off.  I wasn’t understanding why he was turning the car off, so I obviously was super awkward and said, “Oh, why are you getting out of the car?”

In reality, he was just getting out of the car to be a gentleman.  After I questioned his turning off the car, he offered a hug while he was still inside the car if I would prefer that, but I let him get out.   I still didn’t understand why he had to turn the car OFF to give me a hug.   Then he asked if I’d like to go out again… Like, what am I supposed to say?

“No?”  Or…. “You tried to stick your tongue down my throat at the drive-in?”  So I said yes.  Obviously.

Here’s the thing.  I want to hang out with him more because he’s super cool.  And I want him to invite me to Darfur.  But I don’t want him to stick his tongue in my mouth.  So I guess next time I talk to him, I’ll just tell him that.  That’s fine, right?

I think it’s Wednesday now… So Happy Hump Day.  With lots of love from me and my empty bag of Flamin’ Hots.  Which I have officially quit.  Cheetos, we are so done.

xoxo

Gossip Girl.

The Triathlete

I went on a first date last night.  Come to think of it, it’s the first-first date I’ve been on in quite a while.  That’s not counting the random guys from Tinder who have come to meet up at a bar with our groups of friends, talking for 10 minutes, and then dismissing each other.   I mean an actual first date: the kind where someone invites you out for a specific time and place, you meet them there alone wondering if you’re going to get murdered,  you send your friends your location on Google Maps once you get there, and then are stuck with that person for an  amount of time you both deem appropriate without being  rude.  That’s the kind of first date I went on last night.

The guy was from Tinder.  He had the perfect amount of pictures to see his face at different angles, mouth smiling, teeth showing, no hat, no sunglasses, and his full-body… without the photos being obnoxious, inappropriate or God-forbid:  selfies.  There was also a link to his Instagram page which I obviously stalked beforehand.  I decided there was no way this guy wasn’t hot.  Like hot, hot.  Like I felt insecure going to meet him hot, because he was out of my league, hot.  The only red-flag off the bat was that during my stalkage I discovered he’s a triathlete.  Not that there’s anything wrong with those, but from my experience they just seem to have obsessive personalities.  Like obsessive about what they eat, when they eat it, how they work out, etc etc, and have no room in their brains for anything else.  Am I generalizing?  Yes, obviously.  But that seemed to be the only possible flag, besides his hottness factor seeming way higher than mine.

In any case, we were texting while I was on my way back from Palm Springs yesterday for work.  He mentioned he was in North Park, which is supposedly a pretty cool neighborhood of San Diego.  I said:

“I haven’t been to North Park yet.”

He texted, “What are you doing tonight?”

Me:  “No plans.”

Him:  “North Park?”

Me:  “Ok.”

That was easy.  He asked if I liked beer, and I obviously responded “yes,” and he asked me to meet him at a new brewery.  We arrived around the same time, parked and texted our locations.  I told him I’d wait outside since I had gotten a spot right out front.  He informed me he’d be the one in the navy chucks.  I told him I was wearing grey.

As I stood waiting, staring at everyone’s feet, I finally spotted his.  My eyes traveled upwards… to his face… and…. ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.  I got catfished.  Okay, no that’s mean.  I didn’t get completely catfished… but MANNNNN did this guy know how to choose his photos appropriately!!!!  It was obviously him, yet a skinnier version.  Even his face was skinnier.  His eyes were REALLY bloodshot and watery, and he had tiny little wrinkles under both of his eyes that sort of made him look like a drug addict (I know he doesn’t do drugs, as he made a point to bring up that fact during a previous conversation).  He’s 33, but I thought he looked about 10 years older than all of his photos.

I decided not to dwell on his less-hot-than-expected appearance.  I hoped he didn’t notice my disappointment.  Everything started out fine;  he was a talker, so there were no awkward silences, and he was really into craft beer, so I got a lesson on the different types… including the difference between using CO2 vs. Nitro [don’t care, don’t care, don’t care…but at least now I know?]

When dating here, two of my major red-flags are:

1.  Only children

2.  San Diego natives

Strike one… strike two.

I literally talked to myself in my head several times, telling myself to keep an open mind, not to generalize, and focus on the good.  I talked myself into enjoying my time with him, even though he wasn’t exactly what I expected.  We had some interesting conversations, and I didn’t realize how funny the date really was, until my sister stopped by this morning before work to pick something up, and asked how my date was.  After I explained some of the conversations, and we both started laughing so hard, I said I didn’t even realize how douchey much of the evening was until I actually was repeating it out loud.  To summarize, here were just a few of the things that came out of his mouth.

Him:  I have really nice thighs.

Me:  They look skinny.

Him:  No, they’re really nice… especially for a triathlete.

——————

Him:  I have REALLY nice calves.  I wore pants tonight to be more formal for you, but they look great in shorts.

——————

Him:  I’m in my fat cycle.  I’ve been trying to get really fat.

Me:  Yeah, you’re huge.

Him:  This weekend I ate:  [lists like 45 nasty foods], and I was really excited, because I gained a quarter of a pound!

Me:  A QUARTER of a pound??  I could gain more than that sniffing a chicken nugget.

Him:  Where would you get a chicken nugget??

Me:  I don’t know….?  McDonalds?

Him:   Ew.  Thats disgusting.

——————-

Him:  I have a freakishly large wingspan.

Me:  How are your nail-beds?

Him:  I don’t know about my nail-beds, but my fingers are reallllly long.

Me:  Cool

———————

Him:  There’s this really awesome picture of me outside the Guinness factory in Ireland.  I’m facing away from the camera with my arms outstretched like THIS, and since my wingspan is so huge, it looks awesome… and then there was this beam of light shining perfectly down on me.  Hold on, let me try to find it.  [Goes through phone for 5 minutes].  Can’t find it.  But there’s the SAME picture of me doing the SAME pose in the mountains in Colorado.  Awesome.

Me:  Cool.

———————-

Him:  I have a really good butt.

Me:  Let me see.  [He turns around, I squeeze it].  It’s really small.

Him:  It’s a biker’s butt.  It’s really good.

————————-

Him:  [while turned away from me]  I have a really skinny waist but veryyyyy broad shoulders.

Me:  That’s really, really great.

————————-

Are we seeing a pattern here?  I tried to distract him from conversation surrounding his body parts by challenging him to darts.  First of all, he didn’t know what Cricket was.  Secondly, I beat him by two bulls-eyes.  And I’m not good enough for that to be acceptable.  But I think it took him down a notch.

This date wasn’t too awful, really.  I highlighted the douchey parts, obviously.  It just wasn’t any sort of real connection.  When we left a bit later, I asked him if he wanted a ride to his car because he had parked several blocks away.  He accepted my offer.  I plugged my phone in, as always, and drove him around the block 4 times because he forgot where his car was (really, dude?  you had like 2.5 beers).  As he was about to get out, he heard the song that was playing and asked,

“Who is this?”

I stared for a second, wondering if he was joking and replied, “Meatloaf.”

“Oh, I don’t know them.”

Well… that was it, right there.  Deal.Breaker.  Please get out of my car.

We exchanged a few post-date friendly texts, but I’m thinking that will be all of him.

Tata for now….

xoxo Gossip Girl

Slimey-Poo

I’ve decided I really need to stop creating unflattering nicknames for guys I meet. I don’t just refer to them by their nicknames in my blog posts… it translates into real life. My friends start calling them by their nicknames because they can’t remember their real names, then it turns into me actually forgetting what their real names are (especially since I either don’t save their names in my phone, or enter their contact info with their nicknames). I’ve created awkward situations for myself with the nicknaming; I need to reevaluate this method.

In any case, we are going to rewind back to “Soulmate” (this post), because he is still lingering, and after learning his last name, I accidentally started referring to him as “Slimey.” For the record, that’s not his actual last name…. But last Wednesday he asked me to meet up for a couple of beers. Since the first time we met was in a pretty big group-situation, this was the first time we sat down and really chatted one-on-one. My original assessment of him seemed to be accurate… quietly witty and sarcastic, midwestern values and accent, head on his shoulders. Short. His sarcastic attitude makes me wonder how he is with his patients. I asked if he’s nice to them, he said he is… but then followed it up with a story involving pissing off an elderly woman, and her requesting a switch to another doctor the previous day…. soooo… ??
Our date was short and sweet, as he had a work obligation that night (or so he says). The next night (Thursday), Carissa was working on the traveling sausage truck she does part-time. She somehow duped me into coming to where the truck was parked after work, telling me it was at a “cool event.” I believed her because she has been at some pretty cool locations based on her past descriptions. It was at some apartment complex downtown. That’s the only info she gave me. For some reason I trusted that this “event” was going to be “cool,” so I decided to head down there… on my favorite form of transportation: the bus. Slimey texted when I was getting ready to leave my house and asked what I was doing that night. I told him I was going to some event my sister was working at downtown. He said he was actually going downtown too, to watch the football game at his buddy’s place. I told him he should take the bus with me. I called it an “adventure” to entice him. He said no, and offered me a ride. He wasn’t ready to leave yet. And then I said no. I didn’t want to go in a car. As I’m almost at my bus stop where the “cool event” is, Slimey texts and asks where downtown I’m heading. I give him the crossroads of the stop I’m getting off at, and he says, “That’s where my buddy’s place is.”
At first I thought he was joking, or exaggerating… like “oh yeah, it’s in that part of town.” But he convinced me he was being serious, and asked if I’d be at the Vantage Point complex. I said I had no idea. I really had no idea. I also had no idea that this “cool event” I was going to was literally a sausage truck sitting in a circular driveway outside the lobby of a fancy apartment complex called Vantage Point. FML.
First, I yell at Carissa for luring me downtown on a bus to watch her serve sausages to rich pricks. Then I realize that this is the exact place Slimey is coming. Literally, he walks up to the front door about 10 minutes later. Like, come on…. what are the chances of this? And what must he think of me telling him I’m going to a “cool event,” and then lurking outside an apartment complex with a big sausage truck? I introduced him to my sister, and as she hugged him I heard her say, “It’s nice to meet you, Slimey!” I threw a super dirty look her way; he didn’t know I called him Slimey. alsfdkjldasfjadls;kfja;ldkfjsa
He brought beer, so we sat outside on the curb by the truck and had a one together. Then he invited me in to hang out with his friends. At first, I declined, so he headed up alone, but a while later when I realized there was no bathroom in the lobby of this building, I asked him to come get me.
NERD ALERT!!!!! I went up to his friend’s apartment, used the restroom, then sat on the couch with the nerdiest group of guys I’ve met in a while. They were his doctor friends. I was in nerd heaven. If I had known them better, I would have interjected into their conversations several times with my own two cents, but as the semi-uninvited token female in a room full of guys watching football, I was a quiet observer for the most part. I didn’t stay long, Carissa was ready to leave a little bit later, so I thanked them for the hospitality and left with her. I was surprised that Slimey had such dorky friends. It made me like him a little more I think.
The next night, Friday, was my birthday. I went out with Carissa and the girl who used to live on my couch (Erin)… We started at a dive bar and played every Meatloaf song the jukebox could handle. Slimey met us out for a bit but didn’t stay long because he was working super early shifts over the weekend. I think he gets shorter every time I see him. Or maybe my shoes get taller? Or maybe both. He still has my interest, but I don’t know how much longer that will last. We have a PSU/OSU rivalry game this weekend which I think we might watch together… we’ll see.
In other news… well, there’s other news. But I’ll save that for another post, because I’m pretty sure I’ve already hit my limit on this one [hashtag: sleeping yet?]
xoxo
Gossip Girl

 

The Bi-Polar Cowboy

I don’t really know where to start with this one… and I also don’t know how mean I should be, because I have plans to see him again, and I’ve found being mean about someone is hard to come back from if I decide to change my mind.

So let’s start with this… His match.com profile pic was him in a cowboy hat.  I’m a sucker for cowboys.  Especially blue-eyed cowboys with dark hair… who have jobs… and seem normal.  “Seem” normal.

I saw him originally, read through his whole profile, and swooned.  Really, really good-looking.  Sounded like we would get along really well.  He sent me the original message, and I promptly replied.  No messing around when it comes to sexual cowboys with jobs.  Our chatter was brief before we exchanged numbers and he asked if I’d be interested in meeting him, to which I obviously replied yes.

This was about a week ago?  He had plans late last week to go on a rafting trip (which later got canceled due to the fact that he found himself having to work all weekend), so he asked if I wanted to meet for coffee on Monday (yesterday).  I’ve come to learn that although I had never been on a first date for coffee, it’s pretty common, and normal.  I don’t find any sort of date normal that doesn’t involve alcohol, but I decided to grow up and embrace the coffee date.  The strange thing was that he wanted to meet at a really awkward time, in Del Mar, which is in between where we both live.  He suggested 4pm, which I thought was really weird.  I do have a pretty flexible work schedule, but he didn’t know that.  How many people can meet in a random town at 4pm on a Monday??  I told him I couldn’t guarantee the time, as I had to see how late my meeting lasted which was about a half hour away.

THEN… he friend requested me on Facebook.  Ummmm…. no?  I texted him and said I had a policy about accepting FB friends before I even met someone.  He said he, unfortunately had the opposite policy, and promised himself he wouldn’t meet anyone in person again without being Facebook friends first, because he has learned his lesson (??), and he understood if I didn’t feel comfortable with it, but we’d have to cancel our date.  Wait… what?

I wasn’t ready to give up on the sexual cowboy yet, so I strategically accepted him, blocking him from most of my tagged photos and posts (including my blogs, obvi).  He was starting to seem very business-like and by-the-book, which was off-putting.  What was also off-putting is when he immediately DE-FRIENDED me on Saturday evening when he said something obnoxious about being “too old” to go out in PB (which is the town I live in), and I came back at him with a sarcastic response.  Of course, I called him out on de-friending me, and he said since I didn’t “seem interested,” he deleted me, because he likes to “keep his Facebook clean.”

WHAT DUDE???

Carissa was here for this entire conversation and she was like, “You are NOT meeting him.  I hate him.”

But I obviously didn’t listen to her.

We brushed off our texting disagreement, and he asked if I was still interested in meeting him Monday, and I said “No harm in coffee.”

So coffee it was.

As I’m nearing the Starbucks yesterday late afternoon, I texted V:  “I’m about to go on a sober first date.  I don’t think I’ve ever done this before.”

She asked, “Are you nervous??”

“Yeah!!  I’ve never been on a coffee date.  Fear of the unknown.  Kinda like a new gym.”

“Ugh I hate a new gym.”   …A social awkwardness we share.

So I pull up and he’s sitting outside with an iced tea or something (I’m late… good excuse though, I swear).  He’s on the phone.  I walk right up and mouth a silent hello.  He gives me the one minute sign, and tells whoever is on the other end of the phone to hold on a second.  Then he turns to me (still sitting… not even getting up to say hi), “Do you want to go in and get a drink?  I’ll be off the phone in one minute… sorry.”

I’m like, “Yeah, sure…”

And I walk into Starbucks.  At this point I’m already feeling awkward.  I literally feel like I’m going on an interview.  Not a date interview… a business interview.  I wait in line by myself to get my coffee, thinking… this is not a date.

I go back out, and sit across from him.  He is off the phone now, but still shows no interest in hugging hello (is it weird that my natural reaction would be to hug hello??)  We immediately get to talking about work, because we are obviously still mid-workday.  Cowboy launches into a full account of not only his job, but the specific deals that are in the works right now with specific investors, and how the contracts are being drawn up.  I’m like wwwwwttttttffffffff.

In between one of his first lectures on private equity or some sh*t, he pauses, and says, “You look really pretty.”  At which point I awkwardly giggled like a 12-year-old because it was out of the blue and I didn’t know how else to react.  I’m 30, I should have my act together at this point, having been on 3200 first dates, but no, I apparently do not.

The conversation evolves, and not only do I know exactly which jobs HE has had in the past 10 years, but I am fully briefed on his dad’s fashion business, and the way Walmart buys clothing.  My head is spinning.  I was not an economics major and I wasn’t prepared for such an in-depth conversation about the economic status of the world.  He’s easy to talk to but the conversation feels very business-like.  Could I hold the conversation?  Yeah.  Did I WANT to hold this conversation the first time meeting someone?  No.

He interjected just a tad of personal talk into his business rants, and I asked if these things were always swirling around in his brain and he said yes.  I think I could recite all the names of the attorneys he has worked with on deals in the past 8 years, as well as their children’s’ hobbies and hair color.  Holy CRAP…. I needed a nap.

So after a really non-stop, packed out conversation, he looks at his watch a little before 6, and says, “Should we get going?” and before I could even grab my purse he was out of his seat and halfway into the parking lot.  I literally thought he was going to just walk straight to his car without saying goodbye.  My head was spinning and I was really confused.  I stopped and said,

“Well my car is this way.”  And I just stood in the middle of the parking lot.  Like DUDE, give me a hug or at least a handshake.  He stopped, turned around and gave me sort of half hug, half pat and said it was nice meeting me.

I got in my car with my head spinning… confused if I was just on an interview to be a business partner or if it was actually, a date.  He didn’t like my one business idea I proposed, because he said I had a really “east-coast mindset,” so I’m assuming he didn’t want to continue into business together.

I wasn’t expecting to hear from him again, because whatever it was he wanted to get out of that meeting, I don’t think he got it.  But the most confusing thing was trying to figure out WHAT he wanted to come of that meeting.  Mid-day, outside a Starbucks.  I don’t think either one of us got to really know anything about the other’s actual personality… unless his personality IS work, and ONLY work… which I tend to doubt, and it didn’t match up with what he had to say about himself on his profile.

Maybe he just had a lot on his mind?  Maybe he was socially awkward??

He texted me about 2 hours later:  “Thx for meeting me”

Oh really??  Like you could get anymore business.  You can’t even spell out the word “thanks?”

I wrote back, “No prob.  Good meeting you”

Thinking this was the end, he then says, “Let me know if you would like to go out again”

Wait WHAT???  That is not you asking me out.  What does that even mean?  And you gave me no signs during our first interaction that you even would WANT to see me again.  Which obviously means I DO want to go out again.  But I’m not going to make it completely easy.  So,

“Would that be implying you’d like to go out again?”

“Yes please”

I said I would, and he suggested a pool day Saturday (he apparently has a pool), or something for football Sunday.  I told him I couldn’t commit yet for this weekend because it’s my sister’s birthday weekend so I wanted to see what she wanted to do first.  He said to just keep him posted and I said ok.

Then…. Mr. Business ends the conversation.  The final text of the night.

He typed, “xo”

I literally LOLed.  I think he is bi-polar.  I really don’t know what’s wrong with him.  I told Carissa, “Maybe I’ll marry him for money.”

She said, “Don’t invite me to the wedding… unless I get half.”

Bitch.

This one is confusing.  I really need to meet him again.  Stay tuned.

xoxo Gossip Girl

You Can Run, But You Can’t Hide

The reason I’m typing this right now is because I have to be up for work at 5am, so I obviously can’t sleep… that’s just the way it works, isn’t it?  So back open comes the laptop.

Where did I leave off with JR?  OH… at the non-plan plans for Lobster Taco Night.  Well it turned out they were actual plans… we ended up meeting at a place called World Famous on the beach on Wednesday night.  I’ve never had any sort of taco with fish in it before (is that pretty weird?), but they were very enjoyable.  We had a couple of glasses of wine, and JR’s toast was to our first night out ALONE (what, you don’t like me bringing my sister on dates?!) , and then after dinner he suggested we go to this place a couple of blocks away that has comedy night on Wednesday nights.  I was enjoying myself enough, so I agreed.

The first few guys to get on stage were ehhhh…. I was kinda like these guys aren’t that funny….

JR agreed, but whispered, “Look over there to the right… there’s a fat guy waiting to go on.  Fat guys are always funny.”

Sure enough…the fat guy was funny… or maybe it was just that we had more wine by the time it was his turn.  I had never been to a comedy show before, so that was two firsts in one night.  JR was fun, and cute, but kept his arms distance for most of the night, which I didn’t mind but thought was a bit strange because he was the one that seemed so intent on keeping something going.  Towards the end of the comedy thing, he finally loosened up a little, and snuck an arm around me.  I didn’t mind that either.

Although I knew he was leaving again for The Netherlands on Sunday, we didn’t say goodbye that night.  I guess I just didn’t think about it, but afterwards realized I probably wouldn’t see him again for like another month, if ever.  During one of our text chats, I mentioned I didn’t say goodbye, and he said he hoped we’d see each other again before Sunday.  I asked when, and he said “possibly tomorrow?” which would mean Friday… but he originally had plans with his little brother, so I wasn’t really counting on it.

Anyway, Friday comes around, and it’s become the norm to start off the night in the living room with Carissa and V… until we get too hot or antsy, and then move to the front porch.  We sat out there for a long time, drinking beers and delaying making ourselves look presentable to the public.  My friend Theo had asked us to join for happy hour at a place called Jonny V’s that I’d never been to.  It sounded like they had a fab happy hour deal from 4-10pm, but our lazy asses didn’t even get out of the house ’til 9:30, so we were basically going to miss it.

We walked into town, realizing halfway that if we hurried a little, we’d make the deal by like 5 minutes and since we are a combination of poor and penny pinchers, always looking for good deals, we booked it.  Not to mention we all started having to pee really badly (sorry mom, I mean urinate… ) (sorry mom again, you probably don’t think it’s lady-like to speak about urination… but we had to go).

Somewhere along the walk I sent JR a simple text, “Are you going out tonight?”

I was half expecting him to say no, and half expecting him to say yes, but he was with his brother.  He hadn’t answered yet.  We arrived at the door, and I quickly gave my ID and ran to the bar without discussing my plan with Carissa and V.  They probably assumed I ran to the ladies room (which is what they did), but I wanted to make it in time for the deal, so I figured I’d get us a round, then we’d all go to the bathroom.

It didn’t work like that.  I lost them… so I was walking around in a frantic panic looking for them with three drinks in my hand.  I couldn’t put them down and go to the bathroom because they’d surely get roofied.  I decided to start calling them.  But I figured my best bet was to look AND call at the same time, instead of putting the drinks down to hold my phone… so with three full glasses in my hands, and a phone shoved between my ear and my shoulder, I’m looking around and who do I see?  Not Carissa… Not V…. No… It was JR.  Standing there at the bar.  W….T….F?!

We locked eyes immediately, and both had confused looks on our faces.  At this point I didn’t even care that I randomly ran into him.  I just frantically shoved one of the glasses at him and said I needed to find Carissa and V.  A second later I see them coming… hand them the other two drinks and run off to the bathroom.  It’s there that I realize what just happened.  WHAT…ARE…THE…CHANCES?!  This happens to me so often I feel like I shouldn’t even be surprised anymore.  There are probably 200 bars in this town.  He doesn’t even live in this town.  And he is at the same one in the same room at the same exact time.

I go back out, and he introduces me to his buddy.  I tell him it’s a good thing he just ignored my text instead of lying about if he was out, because THAT would have been embarrassing!  He said he just got the text when he was getting out of the car.   Mmmmhhhhmmmmmmm…..  So after a brief conversation, I turn to the girls and say we should probably at least go to a different area because he obviously had no intentions of seeing me right now, and was with his dude.  We moved on to play pool with some Navy guys, but the boys were still within sight.  We conversed here and there, before the girls decided to go to another place that played country music.

I let JR know we’d be leaving, and politely told him they were welcome to come.  His buddy had to be up early to ride his bike 70 miles the next day… [SEVENTY MILES]…. so he’d be going home after that drink, but JR said he wanted to meet us.  So the girls left, and the guys stayed.  Reds is amazing… it turns into a country/western dance party on weekend nights, so we were having a blast. I half expected JR not to come, but he did.   The rest of the night was a lot of fun.

Saturday,  JR told me he had work to do all day, but asked me to meet him for lunch at a cafe in between our two houses.  I did.  He’s interesting to talk to.  His facial expressions give me something to think about.  And his hair makes me want to take my hand and just mess it up a little.  I think his hair actually resembles his personality and his take on life.  I kinda just want to take my hand and mess it all up a little.

Now he’s gone… back to The Netherlands… haven’t heard from him since before he left.  I guess I don’t know if I’m going to see him again.  I guess I can’t really tell if I care either way.  Hmmm… something to ponder.

I think I need to make myself go to sleep now…. Tata for now, Munchkins.

xoxo

Gossip Girl

 

 

Yachts and A(nother) First Date…

I wish every day could be the weekend.  Specifically last weekend.  I attended the Cubs/Padres game with my sister and roommates on Friday night, followed by a trip to our favorite local dive bar in PB, The Silver Fox, where I dropped my phone in the toilet.  I quickly plucked it out, and it actually survived, which was surprising.  I met ANOTHER Jew at the bar who wanted to take me out, but lives in northern California or something?  And was just here staying for work?  And he wanted me to come up to wine country to meet him?  Or some other ridiculous request?  Okay, I’m done with the question marks.  That’s just to signify “this is kinda weird because I just met you 10 minutes ago at a dive bar.”

Saturday can be summarized in a short, all-inclusive video that one of the guys made:

Yachting!!

That was an amazing day with some awesome people.  Annndddd… my phone fell in the toilet AGAIN.  This time, I stuck a fork in it; it was done.  What did people do without technology?  Less than 24 hours later I was back up and running with a new (old) iPhone, and had 21 messages from people wondering where I was.  Granted, 17 of them were from the same person… but still.  Now this old phone won’t let me download Tinder, which poses a problem for so many reasons.

1.  I get bored at work

2.  I feel stranded… what if hot men are messaging me and I can’t see them

3.  I get bored at work

4.  I can’t refresh my facts.

Refreshing facts are important.  All of the information for the guys is in that little app…. their age…. their initial messages introducing themselves (location, jobs, etc).  So although I already had a phone number and a date set up with one of them, I couldn’t go back to the app to refresh my facts beforehand.  #firstworldproblems.

So this guy I was going to go out with was apparently a Tinder newbie.  We exchanged numbers and texted a bit… then on Sunday as I was organizing my room, and we were having a normal text conversation, my phone rings.  Errrr… it’s him.  Calling me.  I answer.

“Hey… it’s D.”

“Uhhh…. hi?”

Why is he calling me?  This is weird.  He said wanted to CALL so it would be more normal (less awkward) when we met.  I told him the phone call was way more awkward.  But he kept talking anyway.  And when I told him I was organizing my dresser drawers, he made the mistake of asking me how I was organizing them, so I continued on, detailing which articles of clothing were in which drawers for the next 5 minutes.  By the time we got off the phone 15 minutes later, he admitted that he regretted asking that question.  I was hoping he regretted CALLING me too.  I hate talking on the phone.  Especially to people I don’t know.

So I’m sitting on my sister’s balcony drinking a glass of wine on Monday, and texted him asking what time we were going to meet the next night.  Instead of just answering my simple question, he immediately CALLS me.  I answer:

“Oh, so you’re going for a second phone call??”

“I just thought it was the nicer thing to do.”

Ugh.  I tell him my sister comes on all of my dates, so that she’d be picking me up.  He says, “Oh, okay.  Is she coming out with us for the whole time?”

“No, just at the end.  To look at you.”  (But he’d be ok with her coming out with us for the whole time?  Hahahahaha…)

“Oh, I get it… so she can judge.”

“Exactly.”

“Ok, that’s cool.”

So we made a plan.  The following night I took public transportation from Pacific Beach to downtown San Diego where he lives.  It’s not far.  It’s like a 15 minute drive.  But I just didn’t want to have to deal with having a car in a city.

Bus:  $2.25

Trolley from bus:  $2.50

Look on my date’s face when I told him I took public transportation:  Priceless.

I don’t get it.  I really don’t understand why no one takes advantage of the public transportation here.  It’s so easy!  And so fast.  And so fun.  But anyway… I met him outside of his fancy condo complex.  There were waterfalls and everything.  Fancy.  We walked to a place called Vin de Syrah.  Fancy.  It was kinda underground with an Alice in Wonderland theme going on.  The door to get in was hidden & covered in grass, and there was a decoy door to trick people.  There was also a hidden camera which was linked to a TV inside so everyone could laugh at people trying to get in.  Thankfully, my roommate, T had been to this place before, so she warned me beforehand about the secret door.  I think my date was really disappointed that I didn’t look like a fool… because he had no intentions of directing me to the real door.

The inside was cool.  There was grass and plants on the walls, and playing cards on the ceiling.  So we sat down at the bar, except they weren’t bar stools.  It was like a two person cushioned bench.  So because I’m such a prude, I put my purse in between us so we wouldn’t awkwardly brush up against each other.   I’m so freakin’ awkward.

So conversation was going well… we were laughing and chatting, and it was natural.  Until it somehow came up in conversation that he has asthma.  I really, truly don’t know why, but I made some kind of awful looking face and was like, “you have asthma??”

He was confused by my reaction… and explained it was very mild asthma.  I asked if he had an inhaler and he said no.  Then he asked if that really bothered me and I just burst out laughing, because I realized how ridiculous I was acting.  He goes,

“You should have seen your face.  It was a look of disgust I’ve never seen before.  I was half expecting you to get up and run out of here.”

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I did that.  I have nothing against asthma, I swear.”

“I was preparing for my buddies to ask how it went and I’d have to tell them, ‘I thought it was going well until I told her I had asthma and she just ran out.'”

Whoops.

After a drink, we went to another place for one more, which was more my scene… a bit more casual and pubby.  That’s where Carissa met us to come pick me up.  To be honest, I definitely could have stayed out with him for longer.  We were just getting into the meat of some good conversation.  But it was probably a perfect length of time… enough to get a feel for each other’s personalities, but leaving enough yet to be known to want to see each other again.

As soon as we dropped him off, Carissa gave her nod of approval with a simple:  “He’s the winner so-far.”

So… we’ll see.

JR is still up the wazoo texting from Amsterdam and comes home on Friday.  I didn’t really follow orders to not see any other guys… so I’m a little bit like “oopsy poopsy, I went on like 8 dates while you were gone.”  But at least he’ll be happy to know the majority of them were horrible.

Over and out for now, my little popsicles.

xoxo

Gossip Girl

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