Dateless and Desperate

So tonight--after sitting at home way too many weekend nights stalking my ex online, I thought about trying online dating one more time. I had dinner with a friend who met a really nice guy on Match.com so why couldn't it happen to me? Besides--even if I don't meet the man of my dreams--anything's gotta be better than sitting here wondering what he's doing. Right?

So I sat through what seemed like an hour of questions on one dating site--but couldn't pull the trigger to subscribe. As I answered all those questions--I thought--really? Are they really answering these honestly--or the way they THINK you'd want them to answer? I was honest. Maybe later.

Then I logged on to Match.com again. Remember, this was the site I tried out for a few months--never went on a date. Just wasn't ready. (see previous post) Sure, I got quite a few emails--and 2,223 people viewed my profile--that's impressive. (or maybe it was that one Vern Troyer look-alike viewing it that many times?) Anywho--I thought--couldn't hurt to look right? I did. It hurt. In fact--many of the same guys who were emailing me a year ago, are still on there?!! What's that about? Undatable? Too picky? Waiting for me? Nah. Again--couldn't pull the trigger to subscribe. I mean really--if it's the same guys emailing me--I'd rather stick with the Netflix.

Earlier I told you I'd post my online dating profile for your review, analysis, criticism or laughs. So here it is. Let me know what you think. Because I really am tired of being alone. And if this is the only way to meet people today...then, maybe. So, If you were a guy (even if you are) and you read this--would you date me? I need help. I need suggestions. If I"m going to do this again--I need to play the role of someone looking to date. So I need to be convincing. Maybe less sarcastic? I'm just gonna act. And maybe I"ll get lucky? Or maybe I'll just get out of the house and stop watching his lame band video online.
Here's my profile:

ATTENTION: To all those who I've said "online dating? not me, blech, are you crazy? lame. they lie about their pictures. I don't need it. Ick. Icky." I apologize. Apparently I do need this. It's tough to meet people when you work long hours--and I make it a policy not to date people from work...so there goes that one. Bars? Not alone. Around here they seem filled with women in fishnet stockings and heels...I can't compete with that--I wore fishnet stockings in a dance recital when I was 5. I try not to repeat fashion mistakes or the steps to "Satin Dolls".


So...here goes nothin. Or hopefully somethin'.
First up...YOU: if you're a serial dater hopping between 20-30 nice gals on here--please keep moving. I"m hoping to meet someone groovie. A Charlie Brown to my Lucy. Not a good time charlie. I hope you're nice. Care about others more than yourself yet don't care what others think about you. (Have I lost you already?)


Okay--ME...I like to make people laugh, don't take myself too seriously, I can be pretty silly and **sarcastic, oh and I am Italian--so if you can't stand a little heat--forgetaboutit--but then you won't get to taste any Biscotti. I'm learning to live thru my fears (went white water rafting and now this)
I have a good heart and try to balance my blessings by volunteering to help others who don't have as many. When I give money to a homeless person, I always ask what their name is. Family is important to me. So is my TiVo. I have an amazing group of friends--so if I never date again, I'll be okay. But then I'll have to join a convent and I don't think they'll let me bring my TiVo.

In conclusion...Please be kind. Spoonful of sugar and all that...I don't have time for crazy. I'm looking for something meaningful and long term--as long as long term is these days. Chemistry is big to me. If it's not there immediately--then doubtful much else will be. That's not shallow--just part of what's important to me. I know--Oprah would be pissed. But then she never went on a date with me.

**see? sarcastic. Bark--worse--bite. Don't be scared. Oh and this wink thingy? Feels too much like a slumber party game. I won't be winking back. I'm into communication. thanks!

A question deserves an answer!

Today I just want answers. Is that too much to ask? Don't answer that. No wait. Please do. At every turn today I couldn't get answers. And it frustrated me. Why does it seem like everyone avoids giving answers these days? Have you noticed? When we were kids--you got answers. Why is the sky blue? Because. How come I can't have more ice cream? Because. At least "because" was taking a stab at it?!! Today it feels like we've become a society of answer avoiders.

These are some of the things I want to know:

Question one. What the hell is this pain in my stomach? My day started off with the latest attempt to solve this on-going saga of "name the pain" in my tummy. (tired of this yet? I am!) If it's not my gallbladder OR a hernia--WHAT IS IT? I went in for yet another ultrasound--but I know it'll show nothing. I can't get a straight answer from any of the docs I've seen. Partially because they're playing wheel-of-fortune with my insides, passing me from one specialist to another.

So I'll take the tests. And hope that one of them will provide an answer. In an indirect way. Process of elimination right?  Today's ultrasound was that one where you have to drink a ton of water beforehand? So I did. Thirty-two ounces and no food. I made my appointment on time--WHY COULDN'T THEY? Seriously. 8:30. I only had to "hold it" to 8:30. Checked my watch - 8:40. Looked around, crossed my legs again--8:50. At that point--I risked leakage to go ask the receptionist what in the H2O was going on. "I just drank my weight in water, and you're 20 minutes late?" Cruel and somewhat unusual punishment. She made some fake phone call and then told me "if you can release and count to five, go ahead." What? Release? Honey opening these floodgates was going to be a release like Hoover Dam has never seen. There was no stopping it.

Finally. My turn. It was one of those girlie-region ultrasounds. The first part was pretty normal. Except for the fact that I forgot to turn off my phone and Charlie Brown started ringing while the technicians were talking about my ovaries. I figured that was it--some slimy junk on my junk and it's over. Then they said--"okay, you can go to the bathroom now before we do the second part." The second part? And then they pulled out a foot-long magical camera wand that resembled a vibrator for a female giant. And that's all we'll be talking about with regards to question one. And no, the mega va-jay-jay stick provided no answers. At least not yet.

Question two, three, four, five...all at work. I won't bore you with the individual questions. But I have one of those bosses who would rather manage through avoidance. Meaning--when you ask a question, via email, phone or in person--they don't give you an answer. They either ignore your question completely OR say "we'll talk about it." And then of course, you never do. I'm not that kind of manager. I'm not afraid to make a decision and answer a question directly. It's taking a chance, yes, that' you'll be wrong--but it's making a decision. Just answer the question dude!! You're frustrating everyone! See? When did we become a society of avoiders? This guy probably got promoted because he never makes a mistake. Well he also never sticks his neck out long enough to make a decision. I can't answer my own questions? Can I? (Yes but then you're not very popular.)

And now the final question of the day. I was "invited" to view a video my ex did--and posted to their band's You Tube site. Now. No matter how hard I tried to NOT look at it--I did. And when I did--I saw someone posted a comment-- before I even watched the video--I wanted to know...

Question six: Why is he friends with her? Her being someone from my last job who hurt me a great deal by being my friend while I was her manager--and then when the shit hit the fan and they laid me off--she dropped me like a hot potato. Now normally,  I wouldn't care if this guy is friends with every woman in the world. But since we broke up he's made such a big deal about me being friends with some of his--shouldn't he follow the same rules? Even if I asked him-- I know I wouldn't get an answer. Not now.

I like answers. I'm an inquisitive person by nature. It's why I consider myself a good interviewer when I'm producing. I understand that occasionally--you won't get an answer. Maybe not today. And maybe not ever. And I'm finally beginning to learn that you may never know why things are, or aren't. And you have to be okay with that. I have to be okay with it. But it's a tough lesson. I liked it more when we were kids and everyone wanted to answer your questions--because you were cute and they most likely wanted make themselves sound smarter than a 4 year old. No one wants to be smarter than a 48 year old. They're too afraid their answer will mean they'll get blamed for something--or they gotta take you to dinner.

Do me a favor. Today only--try to answer all the questions asked of you. Don't say "we'll talk about it later"--talk about it now. Don't be an avoider. It's empowering. Any questions?

Is My Luck Changing?

Ahh Lake Tahoe. Such a magical, beautiful place. The blue, blue lake. The snow-capped Sierra. And the smoke-filled casinos! I just returned from a quick retreat up the hill--a fast escape--and I needed it. Work's not cutting it. And while I shouldn't be spending the few pennies "McDonald's" pays me--I needed something mindless, yet hopeful, to fill my time. Gambling always does the trick. (Free drinks and the hope of paying off my car!)

My friend and I always play the dollar machines. They're a big risk, but you gotta pay to play right? The dollar slots quickly turn into quarter machines. You can play longer. I hit 80 bucks. But put it back waiting for a wheel of misfortune. At this point--my friend says maybe we should knock it down to nickles? Nope. I'll never, ever, play the nickles--don't even bother with the penny machines. Those are the ones you see elderly women sitting for hours, clutching their large bags, lips pursed around a cigarette that seems to never burn down. You can play and apparently smoke for hours--on a few hundred pennies.

I like to walk around and "feel" the machines. Pick one I feel is calling to me. This time--one machine called me out in big, pink letters. "Sex and the City". What? My favorite show! Movie! And now the slot machine? Woo-Hoo! I had to play it--even though--wait for it--It was a penny slot! I figured--just do it--for fun. So I put in twenty bucks. I joked, "I don't have luck with the real deal, so maybe the game?" When I put in the bill--a video clip from the show comes up--"Charlotte" telling me "If you don't take a chance, you'll turn into an old maid!" This machine was meant for me. (And clearly the older woman playing the same game next to me.)

Twenty bucks became sixty. Play a little game matching "Carrie's" clothes--sixty became $120. I laughed. I never win. ANYTHING. Video clip. "I know that one--it's when Carrie went to Paris." My friend laughed at what a Sex and the City freak I am. Another game and I was up to $300. At that point--I said--"time to stop." (The senior woman next to me--wasn't amused or having Sex and/in the City either.) My friend was watching this unfold--and she yelled "you can't stop now, you're on a roll!"

It's been a while since I've been on a roll. I think it's about time. To roll. Now understand--I'm no good at math. And your winnings are displayed in pennies. So when it says "Wow that's great!" Because you won 4 x 5600 pennies--I still think I"m in Dollar Tree territory. Suddenly I am up to $600! On a penny machine? WWCD? (What would Carrie do?) Stop? Keep going? Buy shoes? I haven't landed on Mr. Big! (I'd like to get on a roll and land on Mr. Big. Sometime.)

Time to stop? Why push my luck? Why? Because up to this point--I've had nothing to push. My luck -- great job, great guy, new place--ran out three years ago. It was like my karma train derailed just as it was pulling into the station. So could it be that my luck was finally changing? Thanks to Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte and Samantha?

Okay gotta ask. So... which one are you? I see a little bit of me in each of them. But most say Carrie (the writing thing) mixed with Charlotte (the neurotic thing). Truthfully--my alter-ego is more along the lines of Lucy Van Pelt. You know? Of Charlie Brown fame? I often call myself the middle-aged Lucy. Everyone thinks Lucy is mean. She just gets a bad wrap because she says it like she sees it. She's pretty tough on the outside--but really, she's misunderstood. It's her insecurities that force her to be so forceful. Inside, she's got a heart of gold. She's only teasing Charlie Brown with that football thing. She wants him to kick it--but has more fun setting him up. Sure--if she lets him kick it--it'll boost his morale--but then her flirty game will end?!!

I've always been a Charlie Brown freak. I have a Lucy bobble-head doll. And it's my ring tone. I thought it was kismet when I found out Mr. PP's dad called him "Charlie Brown." We called each other Charlie and Lucy. We signed cards to each other that way. He sweetly scoured old bookstores and bought me vintage "Love Is..." Peanuts books. Remember those? Little, square, blue, pink, orange? He bought me all of them. I can't read them. They're in "the box."

I cashed out at $550--but we played most of it back. I figure if it paid for my trip, and a few more hours of fun with my BFF--it's worth it. What would I spend it on anyway? It's not enough for liposuction. It wasn't about the money anyway--it was about the winning. I was on a high for hours. I felt like maybe my luck is finally changing. Or at least I have something to FORCE me to believe that. I won! I can win again. I can meet a man again. I will get a better job! All because of a penny slot. Ahhhh...Lake Tahoe. It IS Magical.

http://bit.ly/d07mJI Play to hear Proof of Lucy's Insecurity. Listen closely. You've heard it before!