Thanksgiving-inspired Dating Memories

I just had a flashback to the start of my relationship during my junior year of high school, which began with a date the night before Thanksgiving.

We will refer to this guy as Baby Gums, because that's what The BFF still calls him. I'm not totally sure why? I guess he might have large gums and small teeth? Either way, he's actually pretty cute. But, that's neither here nor there.

Anyway, Baby Gums and I met through a shared journalism/yearbook class...obviously I'm so cool that I dated TWO guys I met through yearbook...

He finally asked me out right before the holidays, and he took me to a UT basketball game for our first date, which I assumed would also include eating.

Wrong.

When he picked me up around dinner time, he proceeded to excitedly tell me that he was in fact "fasting for Thanksgiving," his favorite holiday.

Fantastic.

Now, let's be honest, eating is one of my all-time favorite activities/interests and I'm not one to skip meals, but I tried to conform to his Thanksgiving-mindset. I too could bypass dinner in anticipation. I was fine.

Until the second quarter when I excused myself to go to the restroom, and by restroom, I mean the snack bar where I purchased and subsequently scarfed down a giant pretzel before returning to my seat. Because otherwise I might have died of starvation. Sometimes you have to censor your image a little at the beginning of a relationship, it's fine.

We went on to date for a few months until he broke up with me. At his house. Directly after my mom had just dropped me off.

Double fantastic.

Coincidentally we watched another UT basketball game on TV before he drove me home. Fact: not having a car or access to public transportation to escape post-getting dumped scenarios SUCKS.

In the end, though, I will say I won that relationship. Based on the fact that I made out with two of his friends (only partially out of spite), and went to prom with another one.

And this post would not be complete without me telling The Prom Story.

So when Baby Gums ended things with me I had a fairly strong suspicion it might have had to do with another girl. It did. Shocking. They started dating soon after and obviously planned on going to prom together as it was quickly approaching. Being fairly opportunistic, I realized that one of Baby Gum's best friends (who I had become friends with) was my best potential date option. Since he was fairly shy (read: afraid of girls, especially me and my powers of manipulation), I schemed my way into the role of his date...which included being part of Baby Gums' & Mrs. Baby Gums' group.

Suckers.

My date and I arrived at Baby Gums' house for group pictures.

My look for the evening: long red dress, curly dark brown hair half up, black shoes/accessories

Mrs. Baby Gums' look for the evening: long red dress, curly dark brown hair half up, black shoes/accessories

Update: My mom read this post and then scanned and sent me her fav prom photo - solo shot obv. Thanks, mommy!

We looked SO similar (although, let's be honest and humble, I looked better) that my other BFF from HS Shawn TRIED TO DANCE WITH HER thinking she was me.

Hahahhahaha. Awk-ward.

And that's the saga of Baby Gums. Maybe it would have turned out better  (i.e. I wouldn't have had to upstage his new GF at prom - IAAB) had he fed me dinner during that first date.

Food is the way to my heart.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!! Hook 'em Horns :)

And since no post would be complete without an available animals-in-costume photo, here you go:

I Love You, Jason Segel

I totes mcgotes love Jason Segel. Whether it be in movies, on TV, or serenading concert fans with his persuasive musical talent and fame dropping, he is an adorable cupcake.

According to New York Magazine, he and the equally adorable Paul Rudd sent Swell Season a bottle of wine in a restaurant, and then the band asked Jason to play a song at their show in L.A. If you remember from Forgetting Sarah Marshall's Dracula puppet musical, he's quite talented.

And hilarious. And precious.



No special effects.

Then your boyfriend is probably not white.

Ha haaaaaaaaa.

When Bad Haircuts Happen to Good Guys

In sixth grade I had a crush on a boy named John who was in my Language Arts class. Oh those were the days before it turned into English. Anyway, one day John got a haircut - a terrible, too-short monstrosity - and that was the end of my crush.

And that was the beginning of the Dealbreaker Haircut.

From the first guy I dated until present day, I always dread the phrase, "I'm getting my haircut today."

Nooooooooooooooooo.

This could be based on a former boyfriend insistence on "getting his money's worth" at a barber shop that couldn't even cut its way to an acceptable style if their lives depended on it.

I've been so scarred by post-haircut appearances that I can no longer feign excitement.

"Ohhhh, you're getting your haircut? DON'T LET THEM CUT IT TOO SHORT!"

There is just something awkward about that just-cut haircut look, but the real kicker is when a guy gets a disastrous major haircut.

Now I'm not going to say I'm so shallow that I would break up with a guy due to a poor follicle decision...but I definitely might stop liking a guy I had a crush on based on it.

To give you a visual of the ultimate haircut dealbreaker, watch this gem - My New Haircut. It is a three minute documentary depicting the exact guys I try very hard to avoid in this city.

[Note: Dear Jersey, you're probably vain enough to think this post is about you. Well, you're sort of right. It was def inspired by the new look you're sporting, one that involved buzzers and poor decision making. But it's only hair, it will grow back :)]

Guy Hot vs. Girl Hot: Sexy Stereotypes

The stereotypical best description of a girl to impress guys? "She's a model."

By definition, a model is paid to be hot. So guys seem to be automatically wowed with another guy if he says he's dating a model.

Now, if you think about it, there are a lot of people who are quote unquote models. They are not all equally attractive. And let's be honest, even some of the more successful ones I don't necessarily find to be THAT gorgeous. Yes, they take great pictures, but in person most are freak-skinny and maybe even a tiny bit creepy looking. So unless your buddy's girlfriend is a Victoria Secret Angel, should everyone be that impressed? [Note: I would just like to throw in here that Victoria Secret is hosting their fashion show at the Armory next to my apt on Thurs...perhaps I will do a bit of stalking by the side exit...DIRECTLY ACROSS FROM MY APARTMENT!]

I digress.

Anyway, undoubtedly, though, guys will be impressed and jealous. But not as jealous as other girls. Especially the girl a guy dates post-model gf. Friends have told me stories about this phenomena when normal girls get a hardcore case of model-induced CGS worrying about their own ranking compared to his ex. Like I said, unless she was an Angel, don't freak out too much...

The stereotype-induced fear, though, is hard to shed. I personally have decided against pursuing conversations with cute guys who have been introduced with the resume of "he's dated a lot of models." Thanks but no thanks.

Now let's look at the flip-side. For girls, dating a model is not impressive, a non-issue. IMO, the lure of male models is so lacking it's almost comical. Zoolander style - vapid, dull, more beautiful than me - is not appealing.

So what label will be most-likely to impress your friends while instilling at least a little bit of jealousy about the new catch you've landed?

"He played college baseball."

Really, think long and hard. Can you think of any demographic across the board that is so prone to hotness?

Athletic/nice body = check

Tan (the sport requires you to be outdoors for extended periods of time in the spring/summer!) = check

Confident = check

Nice smile = usually, right?

Clearly I'm basing this on prejudice a bit - not only did I go to a school that dominated at baseball (and FOOTBALL!!!) - but we also had some very attractive players.

Like Huston Street. SWOON x 100000000000. He also went to my high school. And he also used to talk to me in the hallway on the way to our next-door classrooms. Swooooooooooon.

So, that is my theory of the day.

Guys find models to be the most brag-worthy dates. And girls have former college baseball players.

That is all.

Happy Monday.

Take a Hint

A fairly standard form of rejection in our dating culture is the lack of response. Yes it is fairly passive aggressive, and yes, it does allow for a little wiggle room in wondering if you're ACTUALLY being rejected, or if maybe the person you called/texted/emailed did not receive your message due to a technology error, or if they just forgot to call you back due to being too busy.

Maybe 1 time out of 10 that is the case, but chances are, you're being ignored.

Sorry.

After the initial brush-off, there usually is a one-more-attempt buffer that allows you another follow-up while still keeping hold of your dignity.

If you decide it's worth another shot, keep your level of communication light. On a scale of 1 to 10 - 1 being "Hey, how's it going," 10 being "Actually I want to take you to dinner next Wednesday at XX restaurant at XX time" - stay below a 3. Tread lightly.

If your level 10 has been ignored, THEN TAKE THE HINT. If your previous persistent, aggressive efforts did not solicit a response, then your next 25 won't either. Back-off gracefully.

That does NOT mean follow up ignored emails with a Facebook gift alerting the recipient that you have in fact been FB stalking her to know she has been a little under the weather.

Do everyone in the situation a favor and take a hint.

Yes, IAAB today. But similar to the unrequited full-court press post, I just find it mind-boggling when some people cannot comprehend when to leave you alone.

For My Wedding, I'm Registering for This

Chuck Bass strip show at my reception.


There are no words.

NY Mag Daily Intel (via Us Weekly) reports that the bride is a friend of his girlfriend, the actress who plays Vanessa, who I don't care for. At all.

I don't know what I would do if I were at that reception. Based on my current Chuck Bass sighting track record, I would probably be that dbag trying to lick him. And by probably, I mean most definitely.

Seriously, I bet that was the most fun reception ever.

I mean, the only thing better for a wedding story would be for Chuck Bass to perform the ceremony.

Anyway, one more time for good measure.


Swoon.

"You Doing Anything After Dinner Tonight?"

Beep beep bzzzz.

That's the noise my texts make. Oh sweet text message anticipation, who is seeing what I'm up to?

Oh, it's you. Jimmy.

Jimmy is a club promoter who The BFF and I met awhile ago. And for almost a year - give or take a few months - we have been on his "Hey girl" text distribution list. Well, I should say "I have been" ... The BFF recently realized he hasn't texted her since October 22!

After months without responding to his unwarranted "Hottest Party in NYC" texts, I have recently taken him up a few times on his offers. I mean, going to 'da club - in this case usually Tenjune - isn't my weekly routine, but every now and then (especially when friends are in town who I know will make it fun) I can enjoy partaking in a little free bottle service and getting my dance on to "Rise Up."


The last time I saw him, Jimmy told me I looked like a model. I'm not totally sure what that means (like anyone can be a catalogue model for example). Then he introduced me to his girlfriend. And then he tried to kiss me. Classy.

Anyway, I've started realizing that guys will come and go, full-court text press and then fall off the radar, but my textual relationship with Jimmy is going strong. So even if my dating roster isn't full, I will at least have someone to prove to me that my phone is indeed working. Beep beep bzzzz.

"WEATHER REPORT: Crowded with a chance of *Sparkler Bottles* Tonight!!! Are you coming??"

At least there is a guy out there asking me out. Even if it is via mass text. And even if he is kind of sleazy.

It's something.

The M Word

In the last year my peers and I have crossed into marriage territory. Well, not literally for most of us, but the topic of marriage is now a real, timely "thing." Any quick browse on Facebook documents another person taking the leap.

It's so weird. Becoming an adult just sort of sneaks up on you. Last time I checked, we were talking about who asked who to the middle school dance.

Anyway, I just got an adorable, glittery Mr & Mrs. engagement party invitation in the mail. Being a thousand miles away with limited vacay time and plane fare funds has unfortunately severely restricted my partcipation in friends' pre-wedding festivities.

Although I'm not physically there, it's still a reminder of a world I have one leg in while the rest of my body is in a different time zone. A time zone that thinks if you're under thirty and married it might be due to some sort of child bride scenario. Like whenever I mention another friend from home has gotten engaged, older coworkers always slip a "But you're so young!" comment in there.

While I have a few more years until it's the main focus of my New York friends' agendas, the majority of guys I have dated fall in the big, fat middle of the almost-all-my-friends-are-married-slash-engaged category. As a side note, I would like to point out that it should have been more apparent that there might be a reason why they're the ones still single...

Anyway, both worlds I occupy are filling with marrieds. It's fine, I'm getting older, and I'm also associating with people who started life a little ahead of me. But part me still finds the idea of marriage so foreign. Part of me feels like the way my friends and I approach the topic is with the same curiosity and gossipy anticipation as when we started liking boys in the first place.

"Oh so and so, I bet you have a crush on him. When is he going to be your boyfriend?" Replace boyfriend with fiance/husband and we're still using the same script. After a few dates with a guy, I get at least a couple "Do you think this is going anywhere?" questions. I've even come to expect the totally premature "Could you see yourself marrying this guy" Q because, hey, I ask my friends the same unanswerable thing.

Our focus on the future should be expected, though, because it's our nature. We like long-term planning. Yes we might jump the gun a little, but at the heart of it, deep down inside, we're still excited by the same possibilities as we were in 7th grade. We love gossip, we love boys, we love love. And now we love weddings and marriage too. And cake.

You Deserve This

So the "certain male friend" I refer to in the opening of my profile is a guy who I've worked with/been friends with since I moved to the city.

This guy we will call Jersey because he's from there and always seems to be going there, not because he's super "Jersey" - ALTHOUGH HE DOES ROCK A GOLD CHAIN OCCASIONALLY!!

Anyway, he's a genuinely good guy, fun, attractive, etc. [Note: Am I doing a good job of building up your ego??] ... although he might have the emotional fragility of a 13-year-old girl... and he thinks my blog is scary. Apparently guys do not need to know the inter-workings of girls' minds...

So Jersey sits down the hall from my cubicle and will occasionally stop to chat. He works directly for the president of the company who also sits down the hall and also likes to stop and chat. Yesterday I mentioned to his boss I wasn't feeling very well. He proceeded to give me a five minute lecture on the importance of my health and how I should leave immediately. I "promised" I would in a little while so he'd leave me alone.

Later I receive this gchat message:

Jersey: opps.

me: huh

Jersey: i owe you an apology, you are about to be aggressively harassed. Boss asked if you had gone home yet, and I said I don't know then he said, "She really looked like she wasn't feeling well." and like an idiot I said "Great, means she'll probably get me sick too" implying you are going to get your co-workers sick. Instead, he took it and ran with it, and made a bunch of wild gestures... so I'm sure you'll be hearing about that.

me: HAHAHA

Jersey: he said "way to go" and now im uncomfortable

me: HAHAHAHHAHAHHAHA great...i need to get the F out of here immediately

Jersey: seriously. please do

me: first im going to email him and ask him to please keep our secret relationship to himself MUAHAHAHAHA ..JOKING

Jersey: my goodness. im incredible... only i could get the judgment of an office relationship without the perks...i suck

me: HAHAHAHAH seriously hilarious...minus the fact im involved

Jersey then went on to complain about how is life is a comedic tragedy - DUDE HAVE YOU READ MY BLOG? Tons of crap happens to me constantly! - what a baby.

So I told him I would blog about this, which he didn't appreciate. But one time he did say that I could use the blog to try and introduce him to girls. So I've merged the purpose of this blog: hilarious office non-romance gone awry and finding Jersey a date.

Like I said, he's cute, funny, has a soul. He enjoys eating. And making fun of Texas.

[Note: I love matchmaking. Clearly it's in my blood... I will be honest, though, my track record is not amazing...but this could turn things around...]

Let me know if you're interested.

It's Not Just Me

So I have a lot of "soulmates" in life - and a few months ago I found my blogger soulmate(s). Elle & Em - two longtime BFFs! - at doyoufancyus.blogspot.com. I randomly stumbled upon it searching for a 30 Rock Liz Lemon "dealbreaker" quote, which they had obviously written about at one point. Duh, soulmates.

Anyway, I've linked to their site a few times, and visa versa.

Haven't read it in a few days due to actual work, etc., but after I just wrote about spotting FH 2.0 on the street, I saw this post from Tuesday:

Murphy's Law. You are real and a bitch, and a REAL BITCH

True story, last summer I tried speed dating on a whim, it was....interesting. I don't think its necessarily the where I will find a husband, or the owner of my future monogrammed towels, but it is definitely an experience that I think everyone should try just for kicks.

Anyway, I ended up going on a few dates with a cute lanky, and very nice British guy. Great on paper, he was cute, owned his apartment, had a great job, but the chemistry wasn't there ...so I bailed. Literally, I bailed, i.e. stopped responding to emails, calls, texts. I felt pretty lame/ pathetic/ rude, and should have just done the big girl thing and said, "yeah, I don't think this is working".

Well, the Brit got his, because last night as I was ducking out of the gym, post workout, I run into him on the street. It wasn't a "Hello" type run in, it was a stop, stare and walk away. So, true story, if you treat a boy not so well, you WILL see him again, and Mr. Murphy and his law will dictate that you won't look lovely, in fact, you will probably be tomato red, with sweaty hair, and in old yoga pants.

Glad we share the pleasure of having had awkward, post-gym ex spottings this week. Like I said, soulmates.

PS Love the headband suggestions from Em.

Crap...I Know You

First, let me just say that New York is clearly a ginormous city, and it takes awhile to build up your network of friends/acquaintances/people you recognize/etc. Especially compared to Austin where I was born, raised and attended college - I know no one here. So when I do run into familiar people on the street, it's kind of cool. Like when The BFF and I randomly saw our old roommate (who sublet for like a month) the other day at brunch. Nice to run into him (someone has been working out), and kind of ironic since we had just had a convo about how we would prob never see him again...except it was not really that random because Dos Caminos has a great brunch deal (FREE MARG) and is directly next to our apt and close to his new place...

Anyway...

So I'm usually pumped about the random run-in, until yesterday when - for the first time - I spotted a guy I had been out with a few times. Yes, there is an entire SATC (Sex and the City) episode dedicated to running from exes on the street. It's a legit fear, and now one of which I will be more aware.

The guy I saw, Ol' FH 2.0 was described here, and then mentioned in my ingenious feedback request scheme and also for sending a patronizing text about my capacity for humor in relation to my age. La-me.

Anyway, I spotted him and his date checking out a restaurant menu while I was walking home from the gym. We did not make eye contact, and I doubt he saw me. Which made me happy because a) Post-Ultimate Conditioning is NOT my finest look, and b) He was on a date, how do you make this introduction: "So and so, this is Rachel, a girl whose Avon Walk for Breast Cancer fundraising goals were met in part due to my donation, and who I took out a few times, introduced to my close friends and then never hung out with again!"

Spare me.

So after inconspicuously slithering by and ducking into the grocery store next door, I realized my heart was pounding. I mean, obviously saying hello wouldn't have been the worst thing ever, nor was him semi-falling off the face of the Earth that Earth-shattering. But the unexpected sighting reminded me that you just never know when someone might pop back up in your world.

I've been on enough dates to know the odds are decent of seeing a few of them randomly. But that doesn't mean I won't get awkward and uncomfortable as I try and avoid interaction. Especially when sporting sweaty gym ensembles.

At least, though, I did not look as bad as Miranda when she hid from her ex. Overalls. Gross.

Maybe the Most Depressing Article Ever

According to the NY Post last week, half of Manhattan lives alone.

First, this just upsets me as I have about 2.5 roommates more than what I wish I had. If you know that I have 3 roommates, yes that would leave me with .5 left over - which would be the point value of having a dog. Man, I wish I had a dog.

Anyway, according to new Census Bureau data, the number of singles in the city is continuing to rise to historic levels. So it shouldn't be that hard to find dates, or something. Where are all these single guys with their own apts? No seriously, please point me in their direction ASAP.

But wait, "Ladies, however, are at a disadvantage. There are 212,000 single female households compared with 165,000 male single."

Ugh.

The journalist of this amazing article goes on to assure us single ladies that "many of those women are lonely hearts, but they aren't all Carrie Bradshaws."

You know why? BECAUSE THE REST ARE WIDOWS. "It reflects the large number of elderly in the city's population, and many live by themselves when their partner dies."

So you are either a lonely heart/Carrie Bradshaw or a widow? Fantastic.

But all is not lost. You know why? Because we have this woman as a role model for either (or combo) scenario.


"There is a fine line between having a good time and being a wanton slut. I know. My toe has been on that line."


- Blanche Devereaux

Halloween was a Success

Halloween was great because:

a) I did not cry

b) In addition to a number of other props I had with me, I carried around a mini potato masher - which is just hilarious

c) The vast majority of my close NYC friends were all on hand to celebrate - in a city with one bajillion things to do and places to go it worked out so well!

d) Some guy - dressed as a giraffe a la Jeffrey from Toys R Us - gave me a non-business card with his name & email!! OMG just like my idea! Sadly FB photodocumentation warns me he's not that cute. IAAB.

And here's a little taste of Sexy Julia because I know everyone is DYING to see how it turned out: