Thursday, November 30, 2006

Alpha male......

In the interest of finding my Alpha male, I actually believe I FUCKING VIRGINIA!!!! I do not know what I ever did to piss God off to such an extent, but evidently, I have done something REALLY REALLY bad. I have been dating since we last met dear friends, but the pool of contestants is surprisingly lackluster. In the meantime I have started chatting with Alpha Guy. Southern, confident and dirty enough to please even this kink connoisseur. He speaks like a Hemmingway novel, factual with no unnecessary details (ie. the grass grew tall and green.) "A" for content and "A" for lack of flowery bs. We spoke on the phone, just a tinge of a southern accent (actually swoon when he calls me darlin' or honey.) He has a gentle confidence about him which I find incredibly attractive. All others pale in comparison. I wanted a man and I found a MAN. (did I mention he lives in FUCKING VIRGINIA?!!??) It begs the question would be attracted if he were attainable? Close by? Am I my own worse enemy when it comes to happiness? Is it possible to develop feelings for someone you have never met? I am smitten with a man that lives 2200 miles away that I have never met. Welcome to the 21st century. What to do what to do. I am wrangling with the crazy thoughts in my head right now (including hopping into my car and heading to LAX immediately) but must go to bed. Must be bright and shiny for my appearance on my favorite knitting TV show tomorrow. How is that for a boobie prize? Makes me want to stick a knitting needle in my eye.

Monday, November 27, 2006

Man Meat

Ok, so the pole position guy.....chatted with him today. I have to say, it is refreshing to have a man just plain tell you he is a fuck.

skeptic: OK. Well, most people on AFF are looking for action, to one degree or another. So yeah, I fit into that broad group....

skeptic: I mean, I differentiate myself from the pond scum, slimeballs, and Neanderthals on the site -- not necessarily because I have radically different goals (I probably don't), but because my approach is more evolved, refined, witty, etc. The site, at its best, is supposed to be about having fun, so I try not to take it too seriously or make rocket science out of it....

skeptic: I know you've indicated you're a serial dater or something like that. From one to the next to the next. If you want me to tell you that I'm the same way -- monogamous with one woman at a time -- I'm not gonna promise you that, though. Not gonna BS you. But I'm way too busy to be out there constantly chasing after tail. Like I said, a little something happens from time to time....

spankme: i appreciate no bs.....

skeptic: There's a lot of fish in the ocean; a tall blond with perfect tits and a cool attitude like you should be able to get what suits your objectives at any given time....

spankme: that is really nice of you to say.

skeptic: Oh, you fell for that. Good.
Ha!! I LOVE this guy! I think I can change him....he just hasn't met the RIGHT woman. What do Y'all think?

Saturday, November 25, 2006

Fathers be good to your daughters

I had a wonderful time being spoiled by my parents the last couple of days. I told my dad I was going to wake up and get all pissed I don't have a latte and his world famous scrambled eggs waiting for me tomorrow am. Time goes so quickly, and it seems I just got there and then had to leave. I teared up as they pulled away from the airport. What I think I miss the most is the feeling of security I get when I am with my dad. I don't have to worry about ANYTHING. I am so content and relaxed. I think this is only a feeling I have ever had with my dad and my grandparents. I have never trusted in anyone to that degree since. Is this what love is supposed to be like? Romantic love. To trust someone so that you completely give yourself, lock stock and barrel, to their care? I am so independant day to day and alone I almost don't know how to respond to this sort of nurturing. I like it. So the new guy hasn't called since our date Wednesday night. We did it, watched a movie, picked up dinner and then he became ill. Not a peep since. I went on the dirtier filthier web site and checked it out, he was on today. RED FLAG! I wish I could say I was surprised. Or heartbroken. Or really cared. I have been through enough that I can just shake it off and go to the next one. Hurt, of course a little. More pride than anything. I feel if he would have taken the time to get to know me (or cared to to begin with) then maybe he would want to protect me. Maybe he would appreciate that my heart is a gift. Maybe he would find value in me. If nothing else, string me along for the sex! He didn't and he won't. I guess I didn't know how much I miss feeling loved, nurtured, until I was reminded this weekend. I suppose I am lucky to at least have one man who will guard me with his life and scramble some eggs for me.

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

Happy Thanksgiving!!

Wine and Work

Boy Gorgeous came over last night for what we like to call the Wine and Work. The idea is to spend time together, drink some wine and work until you are sending out questionable emails. (I swear, he is like Yogi bear with booze. My wine club shipment came yesterday and he calls immediately, Hey Boo Boo, do you have a pic-a-nic basket?? Creepy sixth sense for those sort of things.) As we Wine and Work, jam out to some Jay Z......the New Guy calls! Why was I so worried? We start to have some dirty phone talkin' complicated by the fact Boy Gorgeous is within earshot. (BG already made fun of me because I started talking in my best sex kitten voice when I picked up the phone.) Due to my company, our phone sex was cut short, BUT we did make plans for tonight! I am going to go over to his place and give thanks a touch early this year. (See, I TOLD you not to worry!) I am debating on what to wear on top (and underneath, meow!) I am looking forward to being stuffed like a turkey and sent on my way. Sigh. Good times! This is wrong on so many levels, but it seems appropriate;
Happy Thanksgiving my dear friends! I will most likely not be posting for a couple of days as I am going to see my Dad. Think he may lock me up if he knew my secret identity as the Dating Misanthrope (I will wear long pants and a sweater to hide my tights and cape and tatoo.) Hope you get some stuffing too!

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Reality check

What am I worried about?? He will call.

Mother Nature is a Bitch

I haven't heard from the New Guy. On an intellectual level, I know he was on a grueling business trip yesterday and it was unlikely I would hear from him. On an emotional level, however, it is an entirely different story. Insecurity, fear, sadness all bubble up uncontrollably as I try to stay focused and rational. I tried calling this morning. No answer. Fear intensifies. What if he never calls back? The forever screening when I call...........I like him. I have been on this rollarcoaster enough times to know the routine. Silly giddiness in the beginning (whee!!!), moments of insecurity and finding footing (ohhhh!), intense first discoveries and disclosures (whee!!!), familiarity and pattern sets in (ohhh!!) It is one of the greatest ironies of Mother Nature, we are wired to find our mate. Once we do, we don't want 'em. All of us have had that moment when something about our mate starts grating on us (one of my friends was telling me how her boyfriend breathes annoys her. I told her it was the beginning of the end when you resent they're taking breath!) Seriously, think about it. How many long term couples do you know that are happy?? How do you sustain happiness in a relationship? Should we be monogamous? Why do we go through this? Is a happy ending possible? Too many question marks for me to be comfortable with. All I know is I WANT it. I WANT him. While waiting for the call which may never come, I will entertain myself by replaying our date Sunday night. Why did I have to babble on and on about my friend that got peed on by the drunk chick he brought home? Why did I feel it necessary to talk about some girl barfing in Sarah's purse and her finding out the 'hard way'..... then running down Doheney with arms up like a surgeon searching for someplace to wipe off the offensive substance.....why did I wear those jeans that were a little too loose....why oh why oh why....

Sunday, November 19, 2006

I need an instruction MANual for one of these things.....

Just got back from a date with The New Guy. I CANNOT read him! It makes me *crazy*!! On the one hand, it is positive he called to take me to a movie and dinner tonight. He did hold my hand. He did put his hand on my leg during the movie. He did not kiss me (although I have been trying to quit smoking and have quite a cough working now) as he said he didn't want to get sick. I did ask him if he likes me, and he said it was an unusual situation for him and now we are getting to know each other. I think he thinks I do this all the time, which you all know I don't. Ugh! Actions speak louder than words right? I have had many men say all of the right ones only to discover there was not one iota of truth behind them. Just seems a bit back assward to have banged the crap out of each other Friday night to going on a date that was tame by 8th grade standards......HOW DO THESE THINGS WORK??? We have already determined that being myself is not a good idea. Being a coquette didn't work. Now I try to jump right to whore and that has seemingly backfired. Wouldn't it be nice if there were a reliable MANual you could follow? I don't want to be Madonna or a Whore. I am me and tonight I could not tell if that was enough. Makes me just want to go and kick one to make it work right............

Saturday, November 18, 2006


Some of you have asked me what my quote on my profile means. One of my many anthems, All I want. I cannot tell you how many wounded evenings Joni has seen me through. This song particularly speaks to me when I am staring down the inevitable break up or feeling particularly lonely. (YES, Joni, I just want to knit him a sweater and write him a love letter! YES!) The manic undercurrent of this song just feeds my broken parts and speaks to my longing for something enduring and real. I have a play list on my iPod entitled Chick Band Aids......this song, A Case of You (just before our love got lost you said, our love is as constant as the Northern star and I said, constantly in the darkness? Where's that at? If you want me I'll be in the bar. Tell 'em Joni, BASTARD!), Last Time I Saw Richard (all lovers meet the same fate someday, cynical and drunk passed out in a dark cafe, FUCK YEA!) are my Joni's contributions. When Joni is on, I have had many a male quietly back out of the room...
A more upbeat window to my soul, another anthem by Cake. If a man wants to know how I roll in a relationship, he should memorize Love You Madly. Shouldn't be that complicated, should it? (I don't want to think about it, I don't want to talk about it. When I kiss your lips I want to sink down to the bottom of the sea.) This song is why I get myself in trouble.....I really don't wanna examine it that closely. I just wanna DO it....balls out. Shouldn't we all want to love madly? Isn't there an incredible surge when you completely submit to another? To Love You Madly is All I Want. I don't want to wonder if this is a blunder...........

Friday, November 17, 2006

Gonna get me some of that!

I have a date tonight. Yay! I do not have a mean name for him yet, the pet names usually indicate the beginning of the end for a guy. Right now, he is just his name. Like a clean piece of paper, nothing but possibilities. I love this. Nails done yesterday. Blow out today to ensure I look like a Charlie's Angel. Trip to Frederick's to buy some whorey underpants. Grocery store for wine. I am all pumped up. Boy Gorgeous and I had lunch today. He thinks I am the dirtiest one of all of us. Not possible is it?? I like sex, so what? Doesn't everyone? Evidently I like it a touch more than most. He was amazed at how much effort I have put into this. I asked if he gets excited when he is going to have sex. He said, yes about five minutes before. I wish I were a lot less complicated. Wish me fuck...oops Freudian type, I meant luck. Muah! Kat

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Fred's Dead.............

Last night, one of my best friends told me he is thinking about moving in and marrying a woman he met two and a half months ago. I yelled at him. I love him. I care. He does this EVERY time with a new woman. (Dude, WAIT until the pheromones wear off!!) This one sounds great and like the best match he has ever had and I am happy for him. I think I really hurt his feelings and he asked, "can't you just be happy for me?" I am!!!!!! I just want to make sure he is making a great decision but moreover, I want him to enjoy himself. More than anyone, I can appreciate wanting to skip to the end of the book. I really want to know how my story ends too. By reminding him that life is a journey not a destination, I reinforce that in myself as well. You need to appreciate the process. If you artificially skip to all of the "good parts" you are missing some very rich and memorable moments. (I don't know why this makes me think of my copy of Judy Blume's Forever I had as a pre pube. You would lay the book down and it would flop open to ALL the dirty parts.) As much as I hate dating and sorting through all these losers it will make me appreciate the right one when he does come. I want to hunger for the first kiss, first sex, first meeting of the friends, first Christmas.....wonder when the ring is coming. It is beautiful and complex, you shouldn't try to rush these things. You need to savor them. There is only one *First* anything (stretch it out and get your moneys worth!) If you cannot be satisfied and content in the quiet moments with the one you love there isn't much hope for longevity. Quit being such and adrenaline junkie, slow down and drink it all in. Einstein said, "Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute it seems like an hour. Sit next to a pretty girl for an hour and it seems like a minute. That is relativity." This is the good part Doc! Don't want to ruin the ending for you but you die. Don't be in such a rush to skip ahead.

Music to bang to...........

Ok, this album ROCKS! Save Room and PDA make me wanna touch myself. Check it out and lemmie know what cha think!
Don't be afraid of a little pain, pleasure is just on the other side...........

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

JEWish not GUish..........

I know I have been a blogging machine today. I have to tell you about a dumbshit male that just instant messaged me. His im name is metsfanxxx and I asked him where he lived. He said New Jersey. I said, oh too bad, gu (geographically undesirable for the non chatters). He replied, correcting me, I am JEWish...........lordy! Lost it, laughed so hard I was cryin!!! here is how the convo went from there;
spankme: made me laugh, to the point i was crying
metsfanxxx: is that a good thing?
spankie: for you?
spankie: not so much
metsfanxx: ouch
thanks for playin! Have a good night all and peace out! Kat

Gun Show

Dirtier Filthier Web Site

It is funny. My girlfriend is the LAST person you would ever expect to get us rolling on these web sites. I am the single, curious perv that should have found this for all. She has created a couple of monsters in our Filthy and Gorgeous (download the Scissor Sisters song!!) posse. I took it a step further and went to the filthier and dirtier web site. It is somewhat refreshing for men to be up front with their desires and ask for what they want. Embrace your prurient inner child!! At least their agenda is known from the beginning, not buried under dinner invitations and complimentary remarks. I have long said it is not a question of IF someone I am dating is fucked up but how fucked up are they? What is their Dirty Little Secret? (have a mother fixation? are with me because we are roughly the same size and they wanna wear my lingerie? Do they want to pee on me?) Don't laugh, this all has happened to me. Is their Dirty Little Secret a deal breaker? (keep your pee to yourself!) How much time will I have to invest before the Dirty Little Secret becomes apparent? The Dirtier Filthier Web Site is cool because the men will tell you from "Hello" that they do want to pee on you, wear your lingerie and have an Oedipus complex. The Dirty Little Secret. This is in the front of my mind when I jump into another relationship. I take a deep sigh and then leap right into the thick of it. Even I am rolling my eyes, here we go again...............I wonder if he will call tonight? I wonder if he thought about me today? Wonder if he has a myspace page? Boy Gorgeous just pointed out that men are my drug and I am always looking for a fix. Shhhh, that is MY Dirty Little Secret!

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Bah HumBUG up my ass!

The holidays are coming and as a recently (or some would say terminally) single woman I am weighing the pros and cons. BIG pro, I do not have to blow inordinate amounts of money on things I think are stupid gifts; Led Zepplin box set, uber expensive White Sox Hawaiian shirt, Xbox and games, Wonder Woman light switch cover, shit for the boat for which I didn't understand the purpose. All thoughtfully collected over time, carefully hidden and expertly wrapped, all for an ungrateful ManTits. BIG pro, I will not be disappointed (ok, RIPSHIT PISSED!!!) when the gifts I am given fall waaaaaaayyyyyy short of what I have given in cost, sentimentality and execution. Not to mention presentation! (my gifts were wrapped in newspaper! Ok, the ones that WERE wrapped. Some were still in the bag from the store with their receipts. Fucker.) Whoever said the thought that counts was full of shit! A bad gift shows there was NO thought. I take it personally. Is it really that hard? When I am in a relationship I am an open book. All of my likes, dislikes, quirks, tastes, fears, hopes............are placed at his feet to be either validated or stomped on. (I am also pretty good at dropping hints about the Coach bag I *LOVE* or the Tiffany necklace I *NEED* from their new catalog.) When I am confronted with a physical representation of the fact I am not understood or listened to I get hurt. Then angry. It IS the thought that counts, just not in the way we have been conditioned to think about it. (Did he REALLY think I would like a Jeep radio/compass/tv/cd player??!?!?)

Sunday, November 12, 2006

Law 10

Thank God my friends haven't read the book the 48 Laws of Power!!! If so, they may reconsider our friendship due to Law 10;

Infection: Avoid the Unhappy and Unlucky

You can die from someone else’s misery – emotional states are as infectious as disease. You may feel you are helping the drowning man but you are only precipitating your own disaster. The unfortunate sometimes draw misfortune on themselves; they will also draw it on you. Associate with the happy and fortunate instead.

Since moving to LA, I have had nothing but horrid experiences with men. I got engaged and moved out here to be with The Psycho. I quickly realized I gave him the wrong finger, but was stuck out here. Other mistakes of note; Scalitard, The Jew, ManTits, The Jew Too, The Cracker, Dr. Scrub, The Boy (details will follow at a later date.) Last week, I got a call from The Kanuk. He is considering divorce and wishes he could turn back time and call off his wedding as we had talked about those many years ago. I have always thought of him as the one that got away. I was put in the position to tell my long lost love that he needed to work on his marriage and we could never have anything. I called Sissy, and cried. I think that freaked her out a touch as I usually weather my storms with a caustic wit. (have you ever heard me cry before Sissy??) What a horrible situation he put me in. As shit rolls downhill, poor Sissy bears the brunt of it. Why do you put up with me? The fact you are reading this means I am sucking you all in.

I hope you all bear with me. Life is peaks and valleys and I seem to have more than my share of valleys in the Valley.

The Valley Ain't Big Enough

Noon on Sunday. Reflecting on the weekend. A blur of bars and activity; Green Frog, Chimney Sweep, Mexicali, Clear, Sapphire, Firefly...........met some fabulous gay men. Other than that I came up dry. Some drama this weekend. Boy Gorgeous reeled in a chick that ended up getting dragged out of the bar.........she was kicking and screaming the entire way. (I don't blame her. I would claw my way back for a piece of that too!) I had some random male I have evidentially met before insert himself in our convo and got pissed with my less than friendly attitude. Walked down Ventura Blvd. screaming, "You are a bitch. You are going to die alone!! I CARED about you!!!!" Little does he know, I have CATS! (Pfft, fuck you! In your FACE!) Successfully ducked My Stalker by hiding behind BG. Think I may have gotten another one. Was making time with a hot guy last night when the Kettle One kicked in. Red patent platforms, cocktails and gravity DO NOT MIX. This seems like quite a lot of effort to put forth just to meet someone and get laid. Sexual Chocolate and I were talking about this just last night. It is all about the Vagina. Boys want it, we got it. This is all an elaborate dance to get to the end result, the VAGINA. AND if I did meet someone last night, the ritual of pussyfooting (pun intended) around this fact begins. The tacit rules by which we all more or less abide. Three dates before the boy gets the vagina seems pretty standard. Ugh! I am exhausted and depressed. I cannot tell you how many people have said, you will find someone when you least expect it. I translate that as when you have given up all hope and have resigned yourself to die with your cats. I hope they don't eat me before I am found.

Saturday, November 11, 2006

Dirty Filthy Web Site

A few weeks ago, my friend told me about this web site. This is no eHarmony my friends, this is where you go if you want to find someone to fuck. My profile sucks, I put NO effort into it and mostly used their "canned" phrases which don't say a lot. I did not post a pic. There is NOTHING interesting, unique or original about my DFW persona which should draw attention to me. I was shocked when I received over 50 emails in my first week! Most of them went something like this;
"You seem so together and sexy and hot. Love to get to know you and then eat that sweet pussy and ass for hours. Hit me back to get things rolling".
Eat Ass??? Is there any breath mint available today that could take the edge off of that? EW!
Or this;
"i pack alot for the right one. I love sex and i love to please. i know how to please a woman in many ways i have a 9in long and 5in thick dick and i know how to use it to its fullest so get at me when u get a miunte"
I am quite sure he would not be able to please a woman who teaches English. Or typing. Maybe he was typing with his 9 in long dick. And 5 in thick?? Holy shit! I would like to point out to the very well endowed, this is *NOT* a selling feature. I am not a baseball mitt that you can work in. After this guy would be done with me, I would have a vagina the size of Montana. I would also call bullshit on the claim to length and girth of his member, however, most of the men were kind enough to send pictures. This one actually sent a picture with his hoo ha lined up with a ruler to better fortify his assertion he is hung like a horse. Maybe he works in marketing.....(an interesting sidebar, one thing all of the penis pics had in common was they were wearing socks. Weird.) In the interest of research, I did reply to some and gave them my dirty instant messenger persona, Spankme. Here is how most of the conversations went; "Hi. Hi. How are you? Do you want to meet? Hi. Can I call you? Do you like to fuck?" WTF??? One of these (ahem) gentleman gave me a computer virus which I in turn gave to EVERYONE on my im contact list. What I have learned from my brief AFF stint is the following; when you aim a camera at your penis your feet get cold and you loose considerable IQ points. You cannot type well with your penis. Finally, there is no such thing as safe sex, even on the internet.

Friday, November 10, 2006

If I don't remember, did it really happen??

Friday am after Thursday night happy hour. The all too familiar sensation of waking in a haze of nausea and pounding headache. Then the waves of memories of the previous evenings events adding to the sickening eyes. HOLY SHIT! Male in my bed......Fearfully inspect closer. Phew! It is my friend, The Actor who just made sure I got home ok. (a quick mental inventory of the neither regions confirmed they were intact and had not recently done a tour of duty). Think I was drugged, again. My recollection of the previous evening goes blank at a certain point (when my drink slipped out of my hand at and Kettel One EVERYWHERE. Little minions swept in to clean up my mess and END SCENE). Whatever happened next is anyone's guess...but from the fact I awake in my own bed, clothed and not recently violated with The Actor, I infer I didn't do anything that will go on my permanent record. Wouldn't that be nice to wake up every day with no recollection of previous events?? No pining away for lost loves. Wishing I had the abs I had a mere 5 years ago. Every time being the first time. I have thought this must be what it is like to have Down's Syndrome. When I go to the grocery store, I have one bagger I particularly like, Ron. He is retarded. He is ALWAYS happy. He ALWAYS has a clean joke. He ALWAYS has a nice thing to say. He is exceptionally upbeat on Hawaiian shirt days. On bad days, I have envied him. What a simple and uncomplicated life he has and he seems genuinely content with the hand he has been dealt. I wish I could say the same. The Jew used to say, it isn't the living that is hard, it is the learning (the only part of that relationship that is worth remembering.) As much knowledge as I gain from these fucked up experiences, I never seem to have what I need when faced with the next one. I am wise beyond my years. I am tired of learning. You know times are tough when you covet retardation.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

Pluck Wax Bleach Inject Paint Shave Curl Dress Gloss

No wonder I am so tired. No wonder I can be such a bitch. It takes an inordinate amount of energy, time and money to be a Siren (not to mention some discomfort). Thursday night happy hour, the obligatory night out for the single woman. All I want to do I get in my jams and and give in to delicious goose down torpor. But, alas, I cannot. Thursday night happy hour is a fishing hole and the aforementioned activities are how I bait my hook. I am debating going out with the "come as you are" type attitude, but I know better. A good fisherman buys the best lures, knows the best spots and knows how to cast his line in order to get the best results. The rest is patience, of which I have none (as those of you who know me are painfully aware!) Off I go to perform the Ritual of the Siren.....I shall cast my line tonight, and pass the time drinking with (and drinking in, Meow!) Mr. Fantastic telling stories about the really big one that got away. (Of course I will throw the little ones back!) Hope I get a bite!

Wednesday, November 08, 2006


There is a curious thing I have noticed about the male ego. Most, I have found lately, have an inflated sense of self worth and an even more distorted body image. My ex, ManTits (this name is mean even by my standards but hell, if the shoe, bro/mansaire are askin' for it) definitely falls into this category. Unfortunately, he lives right down the street from me so the occasional sighting at the grocery store or walking the dog is inevitable. Since I dumped him, I have lost 18 lbs. Today I found them (and at least another 15lbs., likely from some other lucky recently liberated femme that must live in my neighborhood) on ManTits. From a distance, his silhouette is reminiscent of a 3 dimentional Fred Flintstone crossed with Jane Mansfield. By the looks of him, he has spent the last six months getting stoned with Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber, drinking beer and eating fast food. It is out of control.....doesn't he own a mirror?!?!? (and if so, I want it, it is *magical*!!) He wasn't always like this, I have seen pictures from his 20's, and he was SMOKIN' HOT! Black hair and cutting blue eyes combined with a swimmer's body, YUM! From our year and a half together, I know that is who he sees when he looks in that mirror. When I look in the mirror I see a woman that needs to lose another 10lbs (not one that just lost 18 and looks amazing!), a pernicious blemish (imperceptible to anyone but me), creases forming in my previously perfect skin (BOTOX!!!! I MUST HAVE MORE!!) Some days, I honestly cannot look in the mirror. Luckily for me, I don't have to. ManTits can keep his *magic* mirror. I have something better; the best friends anyone could ask for. They reflect back things I would never see for myself in myself. They shore me up and keep me sane. I hope I do the same for them.

Special shout out to HottyMcS, I love ya mannnnnnnnnnn!!!!

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Posted by PicasaShow some respect boys! xoxo Betty

Dating MANtality

Recently, I was hanging out with Boy Gorgeous and obsessing about a guy as usual. I wouldn't admit this to many people, but I even went as far as to search thru nearly 500 myspace pages to find his. I am not proud. BG nonchalantly told me to shake it off and find another one. That honestly had never occurred to me. (Insert cartoon sound effect, blink blink and imagine blank doe-eyed stare in response). I get attached. I put out too quickly. I dissect every single minute detail of a date. I am the woman that checks my phone incessantly to make sure it is still working. I DON'T KNOW HOW TO SHAKE IT OFF! Over a very cheap bottle of wine sitting on the Hollywood Strip, BG philosophized about being a Professional Dater (with his pinkie out, of course). He is the Master, I am humble grasshopper. Mind you, this is in its infancy. I need to date more like a man, and here are the first steps;

1. Juggle
Remember The Key of Three
Always have three going at the same time, no more no less. Any more, you screw up and it gets complicated and confusing. Must have a pipeline developed. This way, someone pisses you off, bores you or simply goes away it is no big deal. Most importantly, this removes any and all pressure. When you have pressure, you lose your confidence thus losing hand. You become desperate and men can virtually smell that. A caveat to the juggler, don't use proper names, too great a risk of messing them up...... Call them Baby, or Handsome or (my personal favorite) Sugarbritches. Or as Sarah does, number them. Or as John does, dates chicks with the same name.
2. Send in The Representative
For God's Sake, Send in the Representative!!!
The Representative is the "you" as you would like others to see you. A confident, teflon exterior which allows you to gain information and stay aloof. I am going to rely on Fantastic and BG to further expand on this concept. They have it down to a science
3. Don't spill your guts
Yadda Yadda
I think this is somewhat obvious, and if you are doing 1. And 2. Correctly you will not make this error. Even I don't do this. (Except when I told a guy I had Botox and got my eyebrows waxed afterward. I knew immediately that was a bad idea on several levels. I blame this rookie error on the incredible pain.). I can think of numerous men I have dated that have been compelled to talk about their past relationships, worse yet, their mothers. Nothing good can come out of giving someone too much info. Also think of the Seinfeld episode with the Yadda Yadda. Sissy, have a comment on that?
4. Do not get emotionally attached
Emotion is Cancer
As BG stated, it may say a lot about you as a human, but not great for the professional dater. I am open to ideas on how you do this. Is it like when you go to the gyno and look at the ceiling and hum the National Anthem? Do you picture them naked? (that may work as naked men are intrinsically comical). Do you visualize a Pac Man chomping lil heart bubbles up as you catch yourself becoming smitten? Works for Cancer patients.......

I cannot wait to hear what my filthy and gorgeous friends have to add! Muah!

Worst Weekend Ever

I know this is the ultimate in hubris to think that anyone would want to read about my dating life. My experiences are always weird and fucked up and would only happen to me. What I would like to see happen is have my many fabulous male and female friends contribute so we may begin to develop a dating strategy. Boy Gorgeous (names have been changed to protect the innocent, um, sort of in this case) and I began flushing out this idea this weekend, we will be calling it developing your Dating Mantality. "He's just not that into you" is all well and good, but by the time you figure that out, you have put out, gotten attached, perhaps started doodling his name......may be some sort of consolation but the damage has already been done. Dating, especially in LA, is war my friends and I know I need to develop an emotional flack jacket. I could use your help. Ok, we are going to begin with The Boy experience which kicked off what is soon to be known as the Worst Weekend Ever. Had a fabulous date Thursday night with The Boy including sushi, sake and some nice Cab afterward at my place. Such a good looking boy, funny, a poet and soon to be thing leads to another and of course I put out. Friday, awake to round 3, or 4?? Oj in bed and then off to work for me and off to school for him (admittedly I was robbing the cradle on this one). As he leaves, he blows me a kiss. I blow him a kiss which he catches and puts in his pocket. So sappy and cute, I ate it up. "Bye Gorgeous, call you later!" and he was off. Sigh. Good times. Fast forward to dinner Friday night, at Mexicali drinking margs and telling my gf about my debauched and fab night and who walks in? (come on, play along) The Boy. With? A girl. And? Her parents!!!!! They are seated a mere two top away to my right, with The Boy facing me. What the fuck are the chances of that?? (It has been noted by Mr. Fantastic that God doesn't allow me even ten consecutive hours of happiness.) At one point, I go to the bathroom and, of course, The Boy is alone in the extremely tight hallway. "She is my ex fiance and her parents who are visiting.......they don't know we broke up...sure I told you....yadda yadda". I mustered all of the adult composure I could and replied with, "it is fine, you don't owe me any explanation. Just incredibly awkward and uncomfortable. You aren't my boyfriend. What the FUCK IS TAKING THAT CHICK SO LONG IN THE BATHROOM?!?!". I just wanted this mortifying moment to end. Which it did, and I did my thing and returned to the table in time to watch the chick fawn all over him. My friends arrived and gave him the death glare. John said they had to have known something was up because The Boy was being stared down by four people and you could cut the tension with a knife. Sarah wished she were there so she could have called him a dirty ballsucker in front of his company. (Love her!!) We leave, I get the 10:30 "I am so sorry" call, "need to make it up to you". In retrospect, I think he was just trying to find out where I was so he could avoid it and go out with his, ahem, "ex" fiance. Promised to call by noon the next day with some big plan. Must have been some miscommunication, I still haven't gotten the call. Think I should hold Sat night for him?