Where To Meet The Next One

Riding my bike on my way to work this morning, I saw a cute little blond girl walking on the bike path.

I can't pinpoint exactly when this mindset evolved with me, but there came a point where I became convinced I'm going to meet that "next girl" at very specific locations in my life. Maybe this is where that cliche' of meeting someone in the vegetable section in a grocery store stems from?

There's this single guy instinct in me that thinks that this bike path from my condo to work is going to be "that" next place. Before it was this outdoor restaurant in Los Feliz. I think that singlelites of both sexes believe that there's some specific location in their lives where this will happen. There ALWAYS has to be "a place".

But now it's this bike path! I just know it!

So I keep an eye out for those who are walking their dogs and going for walks. This blond in particular looked like she was on her way to work. Cute head band, the ever-fashionable, buggy Los Angeles sunglasses, cute freckles.

Maybe I'll see her again tomorrow. I've already played it out in my head. I'll be so charmingly befuddled by her good looks (a la' Hugh Grant in every movie role he's ever done) that I'll lose control of my bike and crash into a tree. She'll drop her purse, toss away her pink iPod earphones and crouch next to my crumpled body to see if I'm okay. She'll find it adorable. We'll set up a date and the rest is history.

It's only after I passed her that I realized I have on the Most Unattractive Article You Can Put On The Human Body: the bike helmet.

Maybe I can compensate next time by putting a playing card in my spokes and making it sound like a badass road hog.

A Middle School Story

It seems as though a lot of "blasts from the pasts" are coming out of the woodwork these days. All thanks to the magic of Facebook.

I just received a "friend request" from a girl who I knew in middle school.

Back story with this one. First time I met her was at an awkward middle school social. I remember being told by my friend Chrissy that this girl named Emma had a crush on me and wanted to know if I would "go out with her". Chrissy played the liaison. She was the messenger. That's how it worked back then.

I didn't even know who she was, but I saw her from a distance and weakly turned to my friend John for some kind of sign of what to say.

John finished lacing up his BK Knights and clasped me on the shoulder.

John: You have to do it. This will be like... your first girlfriend. Maybe you'll get to make out?

If it was good enough for John, it was good enough for me. Still uneasy, I said said the exact opposite of what my gut was telling me, "Sure, I guess." John and Chrissy both assured me I was doing the right thing.

I approached Emma for the first time ever and she shyly flicked her hair back a la' Winnie Cooper in the Wonder Years. We proceeded to have a conversation so incredibly awkward it could ONLY take place in middle school.

I believe in between my struggling to think of things to talk (my mind's kept going to it's default which was my recent discovery of my love of budding breasts), All 4 One's "I Swear" came on. Since we were now "going out" I nervously grabbed her waist and we started to dance.

It was at this time Emma leaned in and kissed me. My middle school's socials provided various entertainment outlets for its students. They opened up the gym for the jocks to shoot free throws. They opened up the computer lab for kids to set their pace to "grueling" on The Oregon Trail or command a tank in Bolo. They also opened up the Art Room and supplied free pop and snacks. One of those refreshments being Nacho Cheese Doritos.

I digress.

Emma leaned into kiss me and I'll never forget it. She tasted like Nacho Cheese Doritos. I was so repulsed that I waited til the song ended (goddamn that sax part!) and then powerwalked straight to my friend Chrissy. I wanted to call off the whole notion of "going out" with Emma Davidson.

I think Emma cried.

Funny how things haven't quite changed that much. I still strongly rely on friends for their input and advice on how to move forward with girls (just replace John with Leo). And I'm dissmissing girls with abstract little quirks.

Today she contacted me via Facebook and now we're friends.

And she's absolutely gorgeous.

She's a model now.

I'm sure there's some lesson to be learned here.

...

Fuck this. I'm going to the store to pick up some chips.

Cool Ranch, naturally.

Things Overheard in a Bar This Weekend That Terrify Me About Women

Waiting for my tab to close out, I happened to eavesdrop on an intimate discussion between to girls at the bar:

Friend 1: So whatever happened to that guy who you found out had a thing for you?
Friend 2: He showed up at the party. Later on he came up to me and said, "I want to kiss you, but I need a shot because I'm so nervous."
Friend 1: On my gawd!
Friend 2: I said, "If you're going to kiss me, I'm going to need 2 more shots to go through with it."





Holy shit.

Reapply for the V Card

The second part of anything is supposed to be the best part, right?

Star Wars' Empire Strikes Back was better than A New Hope.
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets was better than Sorcerer's Stone.
The second layer of a Drumstick ice cream cone.

But then again you have Grease 2.

Hmmm.

As I was dumping the condoms that Leo had left behind for me into my nightstand, my head snapped up and my eyes bugged.

This week marked Year 2 of the last time my trouser snake (see: PENIS) felt the inside of a greedy love bunker (see: VAGINA).

I think this means I can officially apply for my V-Card again, right? I mean, right??

I'm currently sipping a beer and wondering; is it possible to forget what you're doing in the sack? Is sex like a bike; will I suddenly remember? What if I forgot all my moves? Did I even have any moves? Oh fuck! I don't even remember if I had fucking moves!

I don't even know if I was decent and I'm not about to ask the only person who would know because any answer she gave would confirm that she has a frame of reference to compare with which would solidify that she, in fact, an active sex life. A fact that I choose to be blissfully ignorant about (I'm like that. I still think girls don't fart and teachers sleep in coffins during the summer).

I wonder if professionals address this concern about "forgetting". But I'm not about to type that into Google to search for anonymous forums. I don't think I've reached that point yet. God, please don't have reached that point yet.

It is a bit scary though and I'm sure that I'm not the only one out there who will have to face this fear. A once sexually active male in his prime suddenly cut off from all "civilization" (again, see: VAGINA) a la' Tom Hanks in Cast Away. But even that mo fo had Wilson.

So@24444444444444!

I mean, the last thing I did that even came CLOSE to sex was making out with some blacked out broad at a bar. And I couldn't pick her out of a police line up if you made me. There is some relief in that she sloppily whispered in my ear "You're a great kisser", but then again I was so drunk I was senseless with all the Black Velvet pumping through my body she could have said anything.

Year 2. Definitely not as fun as Harry, Ron and Hermione's Year 2.

Maybe I'll just post one of those Paypal links to my sidebar and ask for donations to afford a squeaky clean lady of the night to break the dry spell.

Or maybe I'll be a monk. I'm halfway there.

* * *

Leo: Look, if anything, you ought to use this day to make yourself a promise.
Leo: Next time you have the opportunity, you take it. No more Picky Sally bullshit. Your personal growth depends on this.

So@24: What opportunities have I ever had??

Leo: I don't want to hear any more about, "Wow, she looks like Bar Rafaeili but shit, there's a freckle there so no thanks."

Leo: Dude, you turn opportunities down.

So@24: Like who??
Leo: Girls whom, if you put half an effort into, would gladly bed you. But you thought they weren't cute so you dismissed their asses like it was the Friday before graduation.
Leo: You are the pickiest guy I have ever met. Ever.

My Ex-Girlfriend's Post Pt. 1

Well, well well.

Today marks the 2 year mark of the breakup that would be the catalyst to launch this blog. And today my ex-girlfriend Lynn has kindly offered to write a post.

I want to thank everyone for sending in their questions. I forwarded them all to her and she was stunned at how many responses she got.

She called down the thunder and she got it. Some of you were pre-tty ballsy.

But that's why I love you.

Part II, your specific questions, will be posted later this week. I hope you enjoy a unique insight into her side.

Best,
So@24

* * *

My side... The long awaited explanation and other side of the story. I have to admit that I am little nervous. I know that So@24 has a ton of avid fans and readers who likely hate my guts, and so I’m scared of what you might say. Please try to be nice everyone. I am just a weird little girl who isn’t heartless or mean! Haha. I will also admit now that I am nowhere near as funny or as clever as So@24 when I write, so here is my disclaimer now for my lack of wit.

How we began: I was 15 (almost 16) years old when I met So@24 in high school. He had at one time dated my cousin… which sounds really weird now, but when you’re lame and in high school, everyone dates everyone and so it wasn’t weird. I was shy but we hung out (our first date was a high school football game and ice cream), and because I was such an inexperienced little girl we moved really slowly. I had NEVER even kissed a guy before, let alone held a boy’s hand, and so it was a slow but sweet blooming high school relationship.

On my 16^th birthday, So@24 came over to give me my birthday present. As the night ended I walked him out to his car. And, let me CLARIFY here (if you’ve been reading from the beginning you’ll know what I’m referencing) that he did not pull my belt loops the night we had our first kiss. He sadly has mixed two events together (sigh, typical guy). He attempted to kiss me the night BEFORE by pulling my belt loops, but chickened out and went for a hug instead. Hahaha nerd. So, the NEXT night (my birthday) he picked me up, slung me over his shoulder and carried me over to his truck. There he sat me down in front of him and kissed me. Wait… correction; he kissed my teeth because I was smiling! It was cheesy and sweet, I laughed and said I didn’t know what I was doing, and he assured me it was okay. Nine days later we became official (with an awkward “are you my boyfriend?” note passed at school)!

So@24 and I continued to date for 9 more months in the same city, but graduation came… as did Fall and he moved to a university 3 hours away. And, let me just say, I WAS DEVASTATED. I literally thought my world was over. My high school love was 300 miles away! Also, keep in mind this was 2001 when cell phones weren’t common and so I had no idea when we would talk, when we would see each other, or if we would even stay together.

We really struggled for that first year. I still had two more years of high school to finish, and he was in his first year of college. ENTER… the fraternity. So@24 was a frat boy. He partied. He drank. He talked to sorority girls. He went to dances. He socialized. He had fun… all without me. This drove me nuts. I was the young, insecure girlfriend back home… missing her boyfriend and feeling jealous and lonely. This neediness drove So@24 crazy, and was the cause of a ton of our fights!

As the years went on, we thankfully adapted. I got a car and we each got cell phones, and so the communication between us was better. We would see each other every other weekend, and the deal worked out pretty well. Eventually over time things fell into place and we get a better handle on things. I understood his college lifestyle a little better and our lives didn’t feel as separate as they used to.

So 5ish years go by (yeah time flies). So@24 graduates college and has his post-graduation “what the hell am I going to do with my life” crisis. I selfishly wanted him to move home, but I wanted him to be happy too. He dreamed of moving down to LA to pursue his love of film and all things entertainment related, and so I encouraged him as best I could. Although I was horrified at the thought of my beloved boyfriend living 1,000 miles away (that’s a plane ride folks, no longer a do-able drive), I didn’t want him to end up as one of those old men who sadly looked back on what ‘could have been.’ So, come September of 2005, he moved to LA. I bawled my eyes out as I moved him into his new apartment, but I toughened up. By then I was used to saying goodbye.

A year goes by and now comes the time for me to pick a university to transfer to so I could finish my BA. By this time I was so sick of long distance that I decided to move down to southern California for school. I could be happy finally living NEAR my boyfriend for once, our lives didn’t have to be separate anymore, and we could be a normal couple! Yay!

August of 2006 I moved down to Irvine to finish my BA. I expected everything to magically turn into the perfect relationship, but I was wrong. Our lives were still so separate feeling, and I did not feel that So@24 was not where I need him to be after 6 years of dating. It was then that I decided we needed to break up. HARDEST. DECISION. OF. MY. LIFE.

I know that So@24 seems like the perfect guy, and everyone wonders why the hell I broke up with him! But here is the deal… Keep in mind that the So@24 I broke up with was the So@24 from 8 years ago. This was the immature So@24 who knew nothing about what girls needed, wanted or expected in relationships (and I was horribly naive as well). As young couples do, we had already established our relational patterns (both positive and negative) and so we simply developed too many habits that weren’t good for us. Looking at who So@24 is now, I am amazed. I truly believe that although sad, our breakup was incredibly humbling for him and it has turned him into an even more awesome guy. I know that he has learned so much from our experiences, and that is what I believe has led him to becoming who he is today. Please know that I didn’t break up with the So@24 of today; I broke up with the of So@24 8 years ago. We all change, but old habits die hard… and for us that really was the case.

Below is an excerpt from an email I wrote to a friend who asked what I gained from still being friends with So@24 (my friend does not understand me because he doesn’t speak to any of his exes). I feel like I was able to explain me and my intentions really well here, so take a look:

“I gain the close friendship I had with him back. He is an amazing person, but was just not the right boyfriend for me, and so losing him as a friend caused a huge void in my life. He and I are incredibly similar and weird, and so our friendship is very rare because of that. Also, just his understanding of my life and personal experiences is comforting to have since he has known me for 8 years. From an awkward sophomore in high school with braces to a growing young woman in graduate school and living on her own... his consistency in my life is a huge comfort.”

“He gains the same in return. He has explained that he has accepted the fact that we will no longer be together, and he would rather accept that, move on and be my friend rather than hang on and loose me as a friend. He also views our friendship as rare, and he really appreciates me as a person. I don't think he has ulterior motives or hopes of getting back together with me, but I do admit to myself that there may be a tiny something is still inside of him (only because he wasn't the one to break it off). I do think he will 'come around' eventually as time heals and our friendship remains strictly platonic. He will date, he will like other girls, and he will sleep with them (and I encourage all of this). It's just a matter of time, and I am just ahead of the game since I've had another relationship and was ready to move on.”

“Until you end it someone you love and have been with for such vital years, you likely won't understand why some people remain friends. I agree that it's rare with a lot of people and it's a huge mistake for some, but I think So@24 and I are a few of the lucky ones who can handle it. Our relationship and friendship was just that important. I mean, we were best friends for 6 fundamental years... and so even if we don't date anymore, letting go of the friendship is impossible. It was put on hold as the intimate relationship ended, but the friendship never went away.”

I don’t think I can explain it any other way. He is a great person, but our past has a few too many issues to look past. Although those issues prevent me from viewing So@24 in an intimate way now, they don’t change the fact that he’s an amazing person and an irreplaceable friend.

xoxo,

Lynn

Constructing a Bachelor Pad

I recently moved into my own condo.

It's not much. Kitchen/living room/dining room all on the first floor. Bathroom and bedroom on the second. And I got it for a ridiculously cheap price.

Talk about your symbolic landmarks for starting over. My first time living without a roommate and owning my own place. Being single and the owner of a condo, my mind suddenly went into ultra-panic mode. A few initial questions came to mind:

1. What if I have a girl over?
2. What if I bring a girl over?
3. What if a girl comes over?
   
4. What happens if a girl gets lost and accidentally finds her way on my doorstep?
   

I had to come to grips with reality that I needed a drastic makeover from my usual, standard, go-to decor.

Leo used to give me shit all the time for the things in my room. My friend Jenny ripped on me for my lack of pillows and rickety twin bed.

When Leo left, he gave me his classy nightstand and bed. I'm hoping that some osmosis will take place and I'll absorb some of that mojo. It's definitely taken some getting used to, owning an adult bed and all. I find that I have more room than I'm used to and it's fucking weird.

I also had to part with some items that were very dear to me. I had to make the difficult, Sophie's Choice-esque decision that my bad-ass Spiderman poster and my favorite frat acquisition would, no longer have a home on my walls:

A staple of any college room

They are rolled and stowed away in my newly organized closet (where I found that girl's number) to perhaps one day, be passed down to my offspring when he goes to college.

Goodbye my beloved milk-crates-turned-dresser-drawers. I now have a "real" dresser. With "real" drawers.

Don't even get me started on my reaction to having to decide what color of paint to purchase for my bedroom and living room. Deer. In. The. Headlights. This is tough shit!

I have so much cabinet space I don't even know what to do with myself. I am hoping that I can turn one of my glass cabinets into a mini bar. I hear that's what you're supposed to do as an adult.

Maybe I am getting a step closer to living up to my childhood vision that all males in their mid-twenties lived in apartments with chique black furniture, glass tables and hosted sexy cocktail parties on weekends.

I feel like I'm this shady little fox that is building this seductive lair in which to lure in unsuspecting chickens.

Sexy, sexy chickens.

An Unexpected Word from my Ex

Email from Lynn:

10/16/2008
6:47pm

Title: What Do You Think?

October 22nd. 2 years [since the break up]. Can I do a guest post?

I'd like to write about us. Then and now, something along those lines... I'd also like to give your "readers" a chance to ask me any questions they may have for the mysterious "Lynn."

What do you think?

- L

Well then. I'm game. Email me your burn questions (if you have any) and I'll get them to her.

Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained Pt. 2

For Part 1, go here.

Well fuck.

I didn't think she'd actually respond. Now I had a daunting task ahead of me: to explain via text messaging the entire story of how I know this girl, who I met once, three years ago, and not come off as a complete slalker/creeper.

Whew.

I must have done a pretty decent job, because we ended up texting back and forth for the remainder of the night. I was impressed at what a good sport she was about the whole thing.

No, she didn't remember me at all; which wasn't surprising considering how much we had to drink. That one night. Almost 3 years ago.

The last message she sent was, "Here's my last name __________. Send me a message on Facebook. Maybe that will clear things up"

So I found her. To my pleasant surprise:

• She actually looked familiar from the memory I had
  
• She was way better looking than my original memory. Like. Out of my league gorgeous.

I wrote her the detailed version of what I remember from our very brief encounter. It was as innocuous as I could be given the bizarre and random circumstances.

As of 12:07am on Thursday, October 16th 2008, I have not received a response to that message.

* * *

There's something to be learned of this experience. I wish I had a greater story to share... a story of absolute triumph, full of rainbows and a continues looped soundtrack of "Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head". I wish I could tell you that, especially with the big build up.

But the thing is, I didn't even know what would happen when I sent that text message to a complete stranger I met years ago. I wrote about it as it happened and you waited along with me for Part 2. We waited together.

That's such a great metaphor for the dating world, isn't it? You do what you can and you just have to fucking wait and see what comes of it.

Being a single male in my mid 20s, you encounter a lot of girls. And I don't mean to paint a bleak picture, but a lot of them are going to suck or flake. That's just how it is. But that's what it means to be single and to date.

Each time you meet one, no matter how great or how terrible she may be, you build up a little library. When that one doesn't make the cut (or she doesn't fancy your trousers), you file her away in a dossier. You know to avoid that one the next time. You make the mental note.

And eventually your dossier becomes full and you have that much more experience to learn from for the next time.

Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained Pt. 1

I moved into my own condo this weekend.

But more about that in another post. I have an even better story to tell.

This evening, I was hauling in boxes into my new Sexy Dojo* and shoving them into my walk-in closet. I am an extremely nostalgic person (no shit) so I keep almost everything that can be tied to a memory.

As I am on my tip toes trying to push in this tiny box, a tiny scrap of papers flutters to the ground. I picked up the yellowish, fragile paper and realize it's a receipt. A receipt with the name "Amy" and a phone number on it.

Bust out your flux capacitors. We're going back in time.

Set to 2005.

When I moved to Los Angeles right after graduating college, the first thing I did was try and find a job. Leo and I graphed out a radius of where we were going to submit resumes and everyone knows you have to start off in the service industry if you're going to make it in LA. Leo and I both got hired on the spot as servers at a little restaurant in Hollywood (we would later find out that we both got the gig because our gay manager thought it was cute to hire a "gay couple").

I digress. One evening, our restaurant closed down for a private event. It's all a bit hazy, but from what I remember bus loads of college kids dresses as angels or demons came pouring out. I was busy all night serving drinks, but at some point the party got out of control and I stopped working altogether. I struck up a friendship with a small group of guys and girls; I remember that one cute girl, in particular, was really friendly. I started taking shots with them, chatting them up, taking more shots, etc. The group was a lot of fun.

At the end of the night, the friendlier girl said to me, "I'm going to give you my number!" She grabbed my server's book and scribbled down her name and number on the back of one of my receipts. I was extremely flattered, but dismissed it as she was probably just being really nice and really drunk. Besides, I was dating Lynn at the time so I thought nothing of it. I tucked it into my book and forgot about it.

Flash forward 3 years later; this very evening. In my hands was that receipt. So what do I do?

I made the decision to text her:

"Amy?"

What the hell right? I swear sometimes I do these things for the sake of having blog stories. I'm sure that girl changed her number by now. Or lives somewhere else. Or won't respond to a random text message out of nowh--



Seconds later:

"Yes?"

Part II to follow...

* official name of bachelor pad to be decided at a later date

I Think I Got eServed

Question.

How do you know for sure when you get the shaft from an internet dating girl?

Allow me to quickly recap the events in quick, convenient bullet points:

1. I write her an initial email
2. She actually writes a nice email back
   
3. I write her.
4. She writes back:

   "Hey So@24,
   
   Wanted to let you know that I got your e-mail and intend to write back--been swamped the last couple days! I'll write more as soon as i can.
   
   Take care
   Mel"
   

5. I write back:

   "Hey no problem, I'm sure it's hectic with midterms coming up. Get back to me when things calm down."

6. That was 9 days ago.

Did I just get fucking eServed?


So now what? Do I wait longer? I feel that 9 days is a long time. I'm not being overly sensitive to this, am I?

Do I email back a follow up? A friendly reminder of, "Hey remember me?? The one you were pretty chummy with?"

Do I just let her go to wander off into the wilderness like an old house cat searching for a place to die?

I also know myself and it'll drive me crazy if I don't figure out, "Why the french dip did I get the eBoot??"



If I hear another girl make the complaint, "Guys are the ones who always say they are going to call and they don't!"; a kidney punch may be in order.

Plums Are Good For You

Here is where I be today.

The Ex, Her Mom, and Me.

My cellphone woke me up at 9:30am on the dot and as I was shutting off the alarm, I read the text from my ex-girlfriend's mom, Andy:

"you on your way, young man?"

Indeed I was. I got into my car and headed south to spend a day with my ex-girlfriend and her mother. I have hung out with Lynn. And I have spent time with Andy. But never at the same time since the break up, almost two years ago ago.

When Lynn's car pulled up, Andy stepped out with a smile on her face.

"Hello, Mr. Frog."

A playful nickname she had give me back when I was in high school on account of my wide feet.

She walked around the car and gave me a hug. I hugged Lynn and she lead me into her new apartment.

Andy had driven down in a U Haul to bring Lynn all of her things. The living room was cluttered with plastic bins and boxes. 8 potted plants sat on the floor. Andy had packed some things for me to move into my new place as well as potting 4 plants for me.

We spent most of the afternoon lounging around the apartment talking until Lynn suggested we go to Ikea to look for more things for her move.

Andy, Lynn and I strolled down the aisles looking at things that Lynn might need. Andy kept insisting to buy me things for my new place and after telling her 100 times, "No, I'm fine! I promise! You've brought me too many things already", I eventually gave in and let her buy me a lamp and a snazzy cheese grater. With certain people, you learn it's just better not to fight these things.

I must admit that a peculiar feeling washed over me as Lynn and I walked side by side picking out items at Ikea.

"Geeze," I thought. "if Lynn and I were still together and everything went according to plan... her and I would be picking out things for our place. Weird how things turn out."

I physically shook this thought out of my head when Lynn asked me to help her pick out curtains for her room.

After about an hour in Ikea, I could sense an all too familiar feeling. Lynn did/has a tendency to get a little "crabby" when she hasn't eaten for awhile or when she is stressed. She had a midterm the next day and I knew that she was feeling overwhelmed with a day fighting the crowds in Ikea and playing host.

I'll admit that there's this instinct that's difficult to shake off. This powerful urge to make her laugh. Back when we were dating, I'd just ignore her gripes... pull her in, give her a kiss on the forehead or crack a lame joke or simply place a hand on her back and she's instantly snap out of her funk.

But, that wasn't my job anymore. Not my obligation. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't.

So I didn't. I just kind of her let do her thing and tried to sway the conversation to something else. Instead, I made the suggestion we skip straight to the register and get something to eat. Andy and I exchanged a secret smile, because we both were used to handling Lynn in her crabby mood.

We grabbed a meal at a bar/restaurant combo and being in Costa Mesa, the place was crawling with cookie-cutter girls who all looked the same. I excused myself to go to the bathroom and weaving in between tables, I gave quick glances at the girls I was surrounded by. Might as well have been paper chain figures.


Making my way back from the bathrooms, I quickly tapped our waiter and passed him my credit card. I knew that Andy would put up a fight to pay the bill.

I sat back down at the table and placed my napkin across my lap. Lynn flashed me a smile. It's difficult to really explain how frustrating it is to think that your ex is still the prettiest girl.

The check came (already paid) and Andy was a little upset at my trickery. But I smiled and told her that we were even for all the stuff she bought for me earlier.

After dinner we spent a few more hours back at Lynn's apartment chatting, there was never an awkward moment... it was just like old times. But eventually I had to head back for work the next day. Lynn and Andy helped me load my car with my new treats. I hugged Andy and promised I would see her when I was back home for Christmas.

"Oh! I almost forgot! I have some more music to give you!"

Lynn came running back with a cd. I gave her a hug and climbed into my car. I immediately put in the mix she made for me.

* * *

Now this next part is for those readers who might read this blog for that insight for what it's like to start over again.

A song that came on the mix instantly sent a wave of shivers up my spine and by the end I was covered in goosebumps. I'll paste the YouTube link below as well as the lyrics. Keep the song on in a window and listen to it while you browse other things. I believe it's the perfect song to sum up this post and my feelings thus far.

I hope it does the same for those of you who are still in the thick of things.



And for my fellow lyric fiends who are like me and have to read while listening:

Relient K "Up and Up" Acoustic version

Yesterday was not quite what it could've been
As were most of all the days before
But I swear today, with every breath I'm breathing in
I'll be trying to make it so much more

'Cause it seems I get so hung up on the history of what's gone wrong
And the hope of a new day is sometimes hard to see
But I'm finally catching on to it, yeah, the past is just a conduit
And the light, there at the end is where I'll be

CHORUS
'Cause I'm on the up and up, I'm on the up and up
And I haven't given up, given up on what I know I'm capable of
Yeah, I'm on the up and up and yeah, there's nothing left to prove
'Cause I'm just trying to be a better version of me for you
A better version of me for you

Now I have all that I could ever need
The confidence of knowing there's still time.
Time to make amends and try to build a better me
And to take the right steps as this road unwinds

You see I'm finally catching onto it, the past is just a conduit
And the light at the end is where I'll be

CHORUS

Never cease to supply me with what I need for a good life
So when I'm down, I'll hold my head up high
'Cause you're the reason why, yeah, you're why

CHORUS

Guess Who Got An Email?

That's right, kids.

I finally got an email back from someone on an online dating website.

However, I can't take 100% credit for this. Because I was so close to giving up... I decided to sit shotgun and give a fellow blogger with whom I've struck a good friendship with, the reigns to my runway online dating stagecoach.

Armed with my username and password (she made fun of my password; a nickname that my ex girlfriend Lynn gave me high school, it's been my go-to password for years), Dolce donned her deerstalking cap and was immediately on the case. She started looking up profiles for me. Some snipits of our convo:

Dolce: So, it's asking if you have a favorite body part? Boobs aren't an option.

Dolce: This search criteria! I'm surprise they don't ask for a sperm an blood sample. Fuck!

Dolce: How about the girls who cropped out guys with their arm around their shoulders. Seriously? Your post about how you want to teach these girls how to pick a proper pictures only scratched the surface.

Dolce: Oh God. I've just become your personal screener. I want to see more emails in that outbox! Get to it!

* * *

I needed a fresh pair of eyes. Dolce did a great job filering girls with the descriptions I gave to her. Thank you, dear friend!

I believe out of the 20 girls Dolce picked, I emailed 5 of them that evening. I sent the following email to one of the girls: a cute 5'2", brunette, atheist getting her masters in psychology. Um. Yes please?

Hey there,

I've heard a statistic that girls on online dating sites get something like 50 emails a day. I'm in shock. But I'll try and wrap this up as fast as possible while trying to make a good impression.

Stumbled upon your profile and I had to shoot you an email. There are a ton of things you mentioned on your profile that I found myself nodding to. Love that you're in the psychology field, although I was a sociology major. I still will read a ton of psych texts (I finished Raising Cain for my second time a few weeks ago).

I too love to go out and grab dinner and drinks, trying out new places. I've had a recent obsession with checking out restaurants in Los Feliz, but I haven't ventured out to Silverlake yet.

I've babbled on long enough. Check out my profile and if I sound interesting at all (crosses fingers!) please feel free to write me back.

Best,
So@24

Short, simple, and I named some things I found on her profile that I found interesting. Sounded like a pretty good equation to follow. The next morning I received the following email from her:

Hey So@24,

Aww, you're e-mail was so sweet! I read your profile and you are so funny (I mean that in a good way!). I love your bullet-pointed reasons why someone should go out with you. Very cute.

So you're HAPA, huh? That's amazing--I've met few guys that share the biracial Asian thing in common. Do you consider yourself bicultural as well? I read an interesting book by Maria Root that discusses the unique struggles of forming an identity when you're from two different ethnic/cultural backgrounds.

I think that's great that you're into psych! I find sociology interesting as well. You may have figured this out, but I am a psychotherapist intern at a couple places and I am finishing my master's in marriage and family therapy. What exactly do you do for a living?

I too am more familiar with Los Feliz than Silverlake, though I am getting to know the latter better now that one of my friends moved there. Where else do you frequent? Well, I gotta run, but I'll catch up with you later. :)

Take care,
Mel

The moment I read that, I got up from my chair and busted out one of these:

I plan on writing back something to her shortly. This is the closet I've come a real date in 2 years since my break up with Lynn. But who knows what will come from this?

Maybe nothing. She might actually just have an online dating profile in order to lure in single male bloggers under the guise of an evening filled with romance only to sedate them with drugs back in her dank lair to harvest their tender organs and sell them on the black market as profit to feed her insatiable heroin habit.

Or she may not.

I hope it's the latter.

The Joker, The Alpha, and The Good Ol' Boy

I wasn't quite sure what to expect going out to the bars for the first time with a relatively new group of guys.

I don't know Marty very well and I've only socialized with him when Leo was around. This was going to be a totally new experience.

The bar we were going to was within walking distance, which means... you fill up on carbonated deliciousness for free beforehand.

As Marty and I worked our way through a 12 pack discussing world politics, possible solutions to the subprime mortgage crisis, and the brilliance of Samuel L. Jackson's delivery of "I am sick of these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane", we were joined by two of Marty's roommates: RJ and Alex.

RJ plopped down on a leather couch with his hands shoved in the front pocket of his hoodie and Alex's shiny shoes clicked on the hardwood as he strolled over to the mini bar to pour himself a drink.

The empty beer cans piled up and RJ got to talking. I'm not sure how it started, but he started to explain to me the strategies that each of his roommates use to successfully court women.

RJ: It's simple. Every guy has his own place on the game board. Think of it like Monopoly. Some guys are the top hat or the iron or the thimble. A thimble shouldn't try to be the iron and vice versa. The thimble needs to focus on a being a thimble.

So@24: Go on.

RJ leaned forward in his chair. This was some serious shit here.

RJ: Let's break me down first. I know I'm not a bad looking dude, but I'm not like my boy Alex over here. I do know that I am a funny guy. So I embrace that. All I do is, approach a girl... say a funny line, listen to them for a little bit, say something funny based on what they just told me. Bam. Done.

So@24: Alright, what about Alex?

Alex smirks and pours himself another cocktail.

RJ: Check out that motherfucker. Doesn't talk much, right? It's because he doesn't need to! He knows how to dress and when he comes into the room, girls instantly notice him. He's got that Alpha Male complex down PAT. Girls eat that up. They sniff out confidence; they can't get enough of it. That's his game and that's what he does well.

RJ: Last up on the chopping block is my boy Marty over here. There are a ton of girls out here who love the idea of getting on some guy who isn't "LA". Marty fits that need. Tall, white boy from Kentucky. Cleans up nice and has a face you'd be proud to bring home to mommy.


RJ: It's so fucking simple. I never get why guys have such a hard time with this concept. I can't be as suave as Alex, Alex can't play off as the good ol' boy like Marty, and Marty can't bust out a joke quite like me. You just have to focus on what's good about YOU and make sure that girls see that right away. Now drink up, it's time to head out!