A Date With Michael Bay: Part 2

Oh gosh, are you excited or what. I know I am. I love to relive these moments. These moments of deep, deep shame and humiliation...

Part Two
So we're at the park, holding hands and things. Sitting and talking. And he leans over and kisses me. No big deal, easiest thing in the world! I think that was the big draw there. It was not awkward, not forced. Nothing with this guy was. It was... sweet.
I try and refrain from being sweet too early, so guys don't get the wrong idea and think that's how I normally am. I don't want to give them the wrong idea and crush their hopes and dreams. Usually...
At this point in the summer, I had an internship at a theatre where I was working backstage as a stage manager. It was a play with teenaged actors and not something everyone would enjoy... Actually probably just the parents of the children and people that appreciate youth theatre... So like five people.
In any case, I had to go. It was in Seattle, we were in Tacoma, I had to drive and that was the end of our date. OR WAS IT.
"Well, I could just drive you there on my MOTORCYCLE."
He did not really speak in capital letters, but that is how my brain saw it.
And my brain said yes. yes. YES. Almost immediately.
I try and follow the simple rule of "If my mom would not like this, I shouldn't be doing it." Now, I'm not a total prude, I do occasionally ignore this rule and revel in the debauchery of my twenties. But I've noticed a lot of things I do that I know my mom would not like, I regret later. Or I'm on my knees throwing up later. Either way!
In this case, I totally ignored my rule.
And then got in a horrible fiery motorcycle crash.
No, jay kay. I did not. Gotcha. But we did drive all the way to Seattle and by the time we got there my ovaries were vibrating. And I was clutching on to him like a baby panda. Or koala. Whichever you prefer envisioning me as.
"We can sit up a little bit you know. You don't have to lean forward the whole time."
"OH. Yeah I was doing that out of terror."
He watches the play, poor soul. (It was actually quite good, and I like this theatre a whole lot, so I'm sure he wasn't completely tortured.) Then we're back on his motorcycle and back to Tacoma.
Riding on a motorcycle, on a freeway, at night. One of the most exhilarating things I've done this summer. I watched my shadow race by me as we passed street lights and laughed, and it was scary-cool-amazing.
"So do you want to come up and watch a movie or something?"
Gentleman, can I just let you guys know: we've cracked your code. You don't really want to watch a movie. You just want to make out and touch our boobs. And that's okay! You don't have to keep up this pretense that you want to watch a movie on your laptop on your bed. We're okay with that!
Ladies: They don't really want to watch a movie.
We didn't watch a movie.
What we DID do, I'm not quite sure how to describe.
So I've decided to do a mad lib for you. Whoever comments and has the most hilarious fill ins wins an illustration of your mad lib from me. Now, not the most accurate, the most hilarious. Got it? I don't want to draw me in any of your strange fantasies.

We went up to his room and he immediately                 me up against the               . "Man," I thought, "This guy is                !"  Making out with this guy is like                              . And it's                     . I never thought that I would find someone else that liked to                           . He pulls my                     over my                   , and suddenly we are outside on his                      and I am upside down, looking at the lights of Tacoma.                        are coming off rather quickly for someone who proclaimed himself to be a                    , but no big deal! "I don't want to be that girl you                    in the morning," I say seriously, looking into his                 . "I really              you." That's probably where it all                    . He doesn't seem like a               , with the kind of                he is doing, but I'm not one to judge. Maybe he's read lots of                   ? It is outta control, and I have                in places I never thought I would have                . It's perfect. It is like Fight Club up in here and I am                  . There are some things he does that I don't like, such as the frantic                      . But you win some, you                        . At the end of this, after                hours, we are                     and                        and collecting our                        from various places.
And I am                      .


I don't know what you gleaned from that artistic rendition of what I like to call, "One Night With a Marine," but I hope you enjoyed it and didn't think any less of me for my cryptic mad libs.
I drive home at about five in the morning, floating on this candy cloud of bruised lips and words that I haven't heard anyone say to me in a long time.
This was my first "date" I guess you could say, since my boyfriend and I had broken up. I missed him, a lot. He was my best friend, and despite incredibly obvious reasons we could not be together, I thought about him every day. It was nice to not think about him.
It wasn't my first "date" though, as much as it was my first time finding someone that I actually liked to talk to. I was beginning to think I had given up my only train ticket; that at 23, I was going to be left behind on the platform and everyone else was going to have their great love. All I had to do was compromise a few things, and I would've been fine. Now I know that's not true, but this summer was a hard one. It was really hard.
The next morning he texted me.
"It looks like a wolverine attacked my back."
"Well, it looks like a crazy sucker fish attached itself to my neck. So there."
I didn't really say that, but it did look like that. Who gives hickies?
The day goes on and I am singing and polishing things and contemplating inviting him over for dinner so that we can actually talk and find things in common and jump each other.
He calls later then expected.
"Are you somewhere where you can talk?"
"Um, sure. I'll go outside."
I settle myself on the lawn, expecting a warm lover's voice and instead getting a cold stranger. I am confused.
"Are you okay? What's going on?"
"I went to dinner with an Elder from my church."
Oh no, oh noooooo. I am writhing on the grass I am tearing up things and throwing them.
"Oh?"
"I'm really sorry. I didn't respect you as a gentleman last night and I apologize."
"It's really okay. I mean, it takes two to-"
"I can't see you again."
I am silent on the grass. I am contemplating at one point I hated being 23 and alone. This point. 
"Like, ever? Because we don't have to do those things, I mean, I'd like to just go to a Mariners game and-" stop stop stop being so desperate oh god stop
"Ever. I'm really sorry. I need to be in a relationship where I can come before God with my partner, and I don't think I can do that with you."
I'm pretty confident he is correct, but still cannot believe this is happening.
"So you're just, not going to see me again? We can't just take a step back or draw a line?"
"No. I'm really sorry."
"You know, it's funny how that doesn't make me feel better. I hear it does sometimes, but it's really not working for me." please don't cry with this stupid person on the phone. 
"I know. Look, I'm going to have to let you go."
"I hate when people say that. I didn't say I wanted to go, you can't let me go."
"Goodbye."
"Yeah."

Now I wonder if he was really talking about something else. I throw the phone.

Top Five Pick Up Lines

I know, you thought it was going to be part 2. Psych! Yeah, I'm bringing "pysch" back. From the 90's. We're gonna play POGS and yell "NOT!" and "PYSCH" at each other.
Instead of that, I'm going to share some pick up lines with you.
Guys seem to take a certain freedom with pick up lines on the internet, because I'm sure in real life they would choke on their own tongue if they tried to talk to me. On the computer, alone in their house, they imagine that they stride up to me, possibly holding a rose, and dip me back in my barstool saying:

Pick Up Line # 5
I think you are, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful women on this site... And that is an understatement... To add more to that, you sound like you have an amazing personality, at least from what I have read about you... 
I know that I have already written to you, and you probably just ignored it, (I did) since there are so many guys out here that just want to get laid and throw you away after they get what they want... I am not like that, and I just want to treat you like a goddess... I want you to be my Cleopatra.
Oh man. Can't hold myself back from that one. But does he want to be Caesar or Antony? That's a pretty telling question. 


Pick Up Line #4
Hey cutie im a marine
Dayum. Hold me back guys! That was the whole message, nothing else. Hey buddy, I teach children's theater! Sup.


Pick Up Line #3
I eat a lot of mustard.... and i can't stop going back to the trampoline picture. what is it with hot ladies bouncing on trampolines that makes it so hot! sorry.
I love this one for so many reason. The "trampoline" picture he refers to is a picture of me in a sweatshirt and jeans jumping on a tiny tiny trampoline. Don't be thinking that I posted a bikini picture of me jumping. Gross. My bikini picture is me being really flexible.  Geeze. I have some pride. 


Pick Up Line #2
When are you going to admit your attraction for me? lol You seem very interesting! I would like to get a chance to know you!? Maybe a drink or something of your choosing?!
Me: I guess when you start using punctuation correctly!
Nah, your right! I dont have time for a perfectionist over silly shit. Your loss! C YA
I was in a bad mood that day. To be fair, he is probably right. Not about the "my loss" thing. But about the perfectionist over silly shit. I can't help it! He just seemed crazy excited with his punctuation!


Pick Up Line #1
I almost don't want to post this, because he really needs no boost to his ego. But I have never laughed so hard at a pick up "line". 
While I am flattered that you wish to swoop in and meet me just like that, understand I have a few reservations, as any insane man masquerading as a sane man masquerading as an insane man such as myself would have before jumping into bed with every seductive siren that beckons hither. 

But really, did you have to send me 73 messages in a 24 hour span? Okay... I'll bite.. you've got my attention... congratulations.. You sure chose an odd way to go about it, but it has worked, I'll admit that much. 

I was confused by that first note, but when you followed that odd letter with some poetry, I was intrigued.. but no sooner had you written, when you immediately sent me a follow up message asking why I had not responded to your poems. I'm sorry, but I'm not on here at all hours, and hadn't even received your message. Then you left that note stapled to my live cat, in MEXICO, and I have to admit, it was all a bit much, and believe me, I was kind of creeped out by the whole thing, but then I remembered that I made all of this up, and that you aren't crazy and I'm only pretending to be, and I felt better after that. 

So, fine.. I'm sold... I submit to your demands of unbridled lust and debauchery, though part of me thinks that the imaginary you that wrote me an imaginary letter is going to great lengths to just confuse me into meeting you out of sheer curiosity. That would be a dirty ploy, and I sincerely hope that it isn't the case.

Puzzled but intrigued,
               


Still have not met this gentleman in person, because I'm still not convinced he is not going to kidnap me and sell me to sex slavers in Mexico. I was convinced it was some sort of insane form letter that he sends to everyone he meets on okcupid, but he assures me this is not the case. 


I hope you guys are having a lovely day. It finally smells like Fall, I have a date tomorrow, and I have a million books from the library to read today. And eventually I will take a shower. 
I'm just so happy to not go to work today, I don't even care what I do! 
I've had a couple people tell me they are reading this blog, so what's up guys? Comment a little, show me some love. What is your worst pick up line? Whether you've had it said to you, or you just made it up. Post it! 

A Date With Michael Bay, Part 1

Lemme tell you about a really great date I had, resulting in my brain imploding in anger, followed by the worst summer of my life.
It's a good story, and also totally Tom's fault. Tom is my best friend, and I have no reason to create a pseudonym for him, considering I only have one dude best friend, and it's not so much a mystery.
I met Tom at community college when we were cast as a couple in The Nerd. I was really excited, because I had never had a stage kiss, and this was going to be it. Fantastic love affair with co star! Instead, he and the other guys in the cast threw as much shit at me as possible, called me a transvestite and I became one of the guys. (Not...literally...)From then on, we were pretty close. Except for that one time he got a girlfriend and ignored me for two years. We female friends, we get the shaft. In the not positive way. In any case, we are friends still, he is single, I am single, and I love to say 'I told you so.'
I love when things are Tom's fault, because then I can hold it over his head forever, and whenever he gives me shit, I can just say, "Hey, remember that one time, you introduced me to Mr. Military?"
Mr. Military
Tom and I had just graduated from college and in the tradition of all broke ass graduates, having a grad party. Mine was kind of a bust, really rainy and hard to play bocce ball. But lots of money that I promptly spent at Target, so that was nice.
Tom's party was at his mom's house. It was a lovely sunny day, and I was ready to get drunk and make fun of Tom with his family. I walk in with my posse and here is some stranger with aviators.
Don't even get me started on aviators. They are an insta-hot camouflage for anyone. Not coincidentally, he knew something about camo, having just come back from Iraq. Or Afghanistan. Or somewhere hot where they shot at him.
"Hey, would you like a ride on my motorcycle?"
I can pretty much pin point the moment I was totally hooked on this person that was totally wrong for me, and it is the motorcycle.
Being brought up as a super bleeding heart feminist liberal has been really wonderful for me in some ways. I enjoy and am knowledgeable about my rights, have a sassy retort for misogynistic assholes, and can hold my own in a debate on gun ownership.
But I'm still a total sucker for a guy with a motorcycle and aviators.
And then he picked me up and spun me around in a circle (eeeeeeeeeee!) at the end of the night and I was all like, "Feminism? I hate pants!"
It was bad.
Can I just say though, that he was a really nice guy? He was not an asshole, and was in fact the perfect gentleman. In hindsight, that was probably the biggest warning sign.
Enough foreshadowing! I told Tom to give him my number. He called me.

The Date
He called me the morning of our day date (people still do apparently, have dates during the day) to ask me how I liked my eggs.
I did not say fertilized.
He was making me breakfast! Who does that?!
I arrive at his house he shared with two other military guys expecting a total shit hole, and instead arrive at a lovely duplex. It's clean. With a puppy. (A puppy!) And breakfast.
Do you see now friends, how I had no chance? No chance whatsoever?
I hope my parents do not read this blog for many, many reason, but the main reason right now, is that I really do not want them to read about what we did on this date, because my mother will KILL me and then my father will hide the body and pretend they never had a daughter.
We went shooting.
YES. I know. He dared me to come with him shooting and see if I liked it, I said I would never like it. So to prove him wrong, (Yeah I am not always this dumb) I went shooting.
It hurt a lot. And I did not like it. Because guns kill people and I don't take any joy in hitting targets knowing that the targets symbolize people.
But I liked him. And his dog tags.
Also, I was completely terrified and out of my element, like a scared puppy at the 4th of July. You ever want a girl to like you, just scare the shit out of her. That's why they invented scary movies, so the chick is too scared to walk home by herself.
Skip ahead to the park. The rose garden. The hand holding ("I LET HIM HOLD MY HAND." This will become my constant refrain to Tom later when I am screaming obscenities about Military Man). the talk about how he really hates the mentality of the military but he wants to make a difference and be a military pastor...
Yes. He wants to be a pastor. Now you may be able to guess what is going to go wrong in this scenario.

Sidebar:
Let's talk about Jesus. Now, I don't know about you (Five people that read my blog), but I love Jesus. More specifically, God. People usually assume that I am not religious (For a number of reasons I'm sure, but probably my propensity for swearing like a sailor) but I am.
I am Episcopalian, which I like to refer to as "Catholic Light." We drink, we smoke, we use birth control and sing traditional hymns, and love the big G (That is the first and only time I will ever refer to God as the big G. It was a mistake and I apologize). I personally find my religion kind of bad ass; I love God and science, I'm not a bigot and I'm not a douche bag on an acoustic guitar. So now you know: I like to go to church and I love tradition. I like to wear hats to church and I believe in the existence of a higher being that created the earth using evolution as a tool! Surprise!
Apparently that is too much, (or not enough) for some people.

I googled "cool Jesus" and this was the first thing

to come up... If I get this as a tattoo, is that too

redundant?

Detritus of Relationships Past

Detritus
Noun
Definition: Litter, Waste
Synonyms: Pieces, Crap, Rubble, Leavings, Shavings, Shit Your Ex-Boyfriends Left Behind

Having moved and broken up with a boyfriend fairly recently, I have quite a bit of experience with this. However mutual and amiable a break up is, finding his stuff never comes without a bit of a sting. Like, when will all this shit be gone? Can I not completely purge this from my life? No, you cannot.
There will always be a birthday card slid in between the pages of a book you never read, some movie stub lost in the caverns of your suitcase. Or there's the millions of facebook pictures you're tagged in together. Those too. Thank you technology. Gone are the days we could put all of that stuff in a barrel out back and burn it ritualistically (Not that I did that. At all. Okay that one time.).
Now we're reminded of our failures (Or theirs, but it feels the same doesn't it?) on a daily basis.
My break up (Which I will not speak of at length, but here is a little nod) was mutual and amiable. And stings me daily.
Not because I want to be back in the relationship, I do not. That whole mutual thing. We-will-find-our others-which-are-not-each-other and blah blah blah. But I think it's almost worse to be mutual, because what do you do with the detritus? 
I'm not mad at him, per-say. It sucks, and there's no reason to throw away that photo album, but there's no reason to keep it either. Is it a sad gesture, or a friendly one to keep it? Is it moving on, or throwing something away when you toss it out?
I hope one day to move somewhere and not bring anything, but I know that's not a reality. I like my stuff. It's just the odds and ends that stick around that bug.

I call this "Comfortable Clothes Named for Boyfriends"

Every girl keeps a t-shirt. It's a known fact. It's like a bonus

after getting your heart pulverized! Also, please do not assume 

anything from the fact the blue t-shirt says "Kids Club". 

Your Hair Looks Nice From Behind

OkCupid has this new feature for the android called "Locals," which I guess is supposed to force you to interact connect you to people in your area at the time. Apparently what did not occur to the creators of this app, is that is a perfect stalking tool. It's basically stalking-made-easy.
I'm at work, doing my thing, restocking or what have you and my phone hollas at me.
mathew27 is in Queen Anne, right now! He wants to meet up with you!
It even does the little italics, to give you a sense of impending doom anticipation. I can only imagine it shows mathew27 the same thing.
This thought results in me looking over my shoulder so much I must seem epileptic to the people walking next to me. I can't help it; I must assume the worst. He's totally following me and smelling my hair.
In a perfect world, those of us that have grown some cojones would click "Yes, let's meet up!" And go on a fantastic and spontaneous date and everything would be hunky dory. But instead I'm a little bit nervous about this random meet up action, and can't bring myself to do it. That seems like a trap. I need to do a little research before heading out with these guys from the internet, CALL ME CRAZY.

It also may have to do with the fact that I work until 10:30 PM and then have to catch the 11:40 boat in West Seattle. It doesn't leave a lot of time for fantastical dates.
On Saturday I sat at the bar in Pagliacci's and devoured two slices of pizzas. Yeah weekend, woo!
It was delicious, I regret nothing.
Last night was kind of the employee weekend, and everyone went out for karaoke. Then I watched all the guys from work hit on different women in the bar! It was great. I drank about three whiskey sours, then I went home.
I think I need to work on seeming more available, but I don't know what that means. Less smart? Can anyone tell me? Seriously guys, if you know me, can you give me a break down of how I seemed the first time you meant me?
Needlessly bitchy?
Repellent?
Been a cold, dry summer my friends.

I just don't understand how you could resist this. Also,

this is my Hermione face. They made her all pretty in the 

movies and I was like, hell no. She is a crazy face. Stick

to the book man!

Enemy: 99 %

A nifty feature on Okcupid is their matching system. And by nifty, I mean potentially useless and fun to think about.
You answer questions on the site, and it gives you matches based on how many answers you have in common. Now, in a perfect world, this would totally make sense and everyone would find their perfect soul mate using this method. HOWEVER. People tend to have complicated personalities and cannot be defined by some random answer to a completely random question like:
If you had a pet, would you let it sleep in your bed?
For the record, it really depends how big the pet is.
That's the problem with me; I rarely answer questions Yes or No. There is always a possibility, a 'C' answer, a third option. Or a fourth or fifth.
 It's interesting to look at people that are your "matches," but you know what's even more interesting?
Finding people you would absolutely despise.
And going on dates with them. I bet you someone that is my "90% enemy" will be more attractive to me then my "99% matches". We'll see.

Let us begin with:
fmlshifty
Stats: 0% Match, 2% Friend, 99% Enemy
Profile Picture: Guy with shaved head hugging gigantic stuffed dog you might win at the fair.

WELL. It looks like he's at least 6" tall, so we're off to a good start.
Tell me a little about yourself FML:

"im a great listener... I know grammar and punctuation its just that im too lazy to press the shift key or the ' key. but you all know what i mean... lol"

Hmm. Okay, but what do you do?

"Im getting promoted fast and i deploy often. So basically FUCKING SHIT UP. :)"
Oh good. That seems legit. Fucking shit up with a smiley face. What's your favorite book, movie, etc?
cat in the hat
I also enjoy children's literature! Though not Dr. Seuss. At all. ... Let's move on to some questions. How do you feel about same sex relationships?
Girl on Girl is okay, but Guy on Guy is wrong.
But... That makes... no sense... Moving on... Do you like to discuss politics?
Hardly. Politics are boring or personal. 
What do you do for a living?
I'm in the army.

I think we're done here. 

chris1984mays
Stats: 0% Match, 0% Friend, 86% Enemy
Profile Picture: Guy in cowboy hat.
Okay, we have no chance of being friends ever, but that's okay. We can just be passionate lovers.
I just want to be able to have the conpanian ship of a woman
Oh. Okay. Uh, what do you like to do on Fridays?
I am a cow boy so the country club is were I go on weekends
Yeeha! I love cowboys. So tell me a sexy secret.
I am startin to think I will be alone all my life.
I'm sure that's... Not... True...

JuicyMcPirate
Stats: 0% Match, 16% Friends, 75% Enemy
Profile Picture: A pirate.
What are you pirates up to these days?
Pillagin' the gentry, keelhaulin' filthy bilge rats, drinkin' rum, buryin' me booty, n' makin' treasure maps. 
I loves me a good keelhauling. Tell me more.
Me life revolves 'round yonder high seas of the mighty Carribean. However, in recent times I have realized me life tis empty without a buxom wench at meside. Do to a shortage of time (what with cap'n duties and all) me only hope is too search the internet for me perfect wench.
I think I love you. 

Yar, I am so sexy my hair be steamin.

The Lookout, Capital Hill

Went here the other day on the date with Mr. Financial Adviser. It was quite nice. Had some macaroni! No salads for this girl. (Though really I do love salads.) It had bacon in it, which you would think would make it ten times better then normal mac n cheese, but no. It was still just mac n cheese.

The view was awesome however.

 The Lookout on Capital Hill

I would give it a 3 out of 5 stars. The food was pretty okay, the waitress was nice. It was almost impossible to get a seat outside and when we did we were seated by some construction they were doing on the patio. But the view! That's such a Washington thing. "Look at the mountain today!" is our motto here. I used to get irritated with my mom for being so crazy about a damn mountain, but now whenever I'm driving and I see it I do exactly the same thing. Oh Washington.

 

I'm sure this is super interesting to ya'll, 

but this is the Klahowya, the ferry I ride every morning. 

We're on a first name basis and stuff. No big deal.

I am kind of like a hobo these days; I have my hamper of clothes in the trunk for my two jobs (Pants, t-shirt and TOMS for the youth theatre, Black dress, fishnets and high heels for other theatre. Hamper very necessary.), my quilt and pillow in my backseat for my 6:30 ferry ride and my millions of library books which are probably overdue. And the detritus of a million Starbucks runs. It's not pretty. Now all I need is a grocery cart and a sign and I'm all set.

It would probably say, "Please let me sleep." Which is not even close to being as cool as this dude:

My relationship with homeless people is very complicated, having 

grown up in Seattle. I am a pretty compassionate person, but when it

comes to the homeless people in the city, I pretend they don't exist. I 

was taught this from a very young age. So I feel bad for them and all,

but also do not acknowledge their presence.

This week at work I am sitting at the front desk, answering calls and making appointments. It's all very Mad Men (If the women on Mad Men wore khakis and had to deal with children running around the lobby pretending to be pirates).

 

So not so much.

In any case, I will probably be posting a lot! Normally I would be running around pretending to be a turtle, or whatever my classes require me to be, but this week I am "secretary". Not my favorite role.

I'm going to go answer phones now. Potentially in a British dialect. Like MonePenny.The best secretary ever.

That's more like it! Ta!