Wednesday, November 14, 2012

lipgloss and bad snogs


It's that time of year!  You know, the "i just got used to saying 2012 now i have to change it?" time of year.  Singleton dilemma creeping up on you.. the calendar is getting thinner and thinner and you have NOTHING TO WEAR FOR NYE!!! Forget that you don't have plans yet but WHAT AM I GOING TO WEAR?  Outfit first, date later.

So you start talking with your friends about their plans and of course most of them are married (WE are staying in) or have kids (uhhh, sleeping by 10:30).  Hopefully you have that one other singleton friend that you can rely on.

Dilemma #2.  You can handle shopping for the outfit, but now your mind is filling with the thought - am I going to be the loser standing in the middle of a smoochfest at midnight?  Or, what if it's me and that guy who smells like pepperoni and has applied way to much chapstick.  He's in the corner puckering up and reapplying while he scans the crowd.  You know that guy... the one at happy hours whose pants are just a wee too tight and a wee too short.  He perches on the edge of his bar stool like a vulture on a treebranch waiting for someone (anyone!) to "kick the bucket."  And most responses he gets are "over my dead body."

So what if it's not pepperoni tony?  What if you see a nice Jason Segal kind of guy and you start reapplying your lipgloss and remember the last time you had a good snog was uh... hmmm... well...  OH MY GOD WHAT IF I FORGOT HOW TO SMOOCH??! What if he goes home and starts writing on his blog about the horrible kisser w/ the glitter lipgloss that he can't wash off?  Ugh.

Maybe those 10:30 sleepers have the right idea. Now, back to my Christmas shopping.  Santa, I'd like one cute Jason Segal please.



(borrowed image from dating and mating in america.com)

Monday, August 6, 2012

clancy214: dating - season two

clancy214: dating - season two: i'm back!  it's been a while.  sorry about that.  i get busy and keep thinking - i'll write this weekend... then this weekend comes along a...

Red Flag

Red Flag #73 that you shouldn't join that many "free" dating sites.

you will receive messages at midnight asking if you would be interested in fulfilling someone's dirty desires.

of course i asked what it was.  you can't just say - hey i know a story and the other person not say, "well, go on..."


google milking a prostrate.

my response?  none.

that is all.

goodnight.

Sunday, August 5, 2012

dating - season two


i'm back!  it's been a while.  sorry about that.  i get busy and keep thinking - i'll write this weekend... then this weekend comes along and i say - oh i'll write during lunch sometime this week.  yada yada yada, well, here i am now.

i feel like it's recap time.  insert montage of clips from last season with music by paul simon.  i've been inspired (by a bravo tv show, yes... i'm that cheesy) to really get into the dating scene.  as a dating "expert" said - there are no bad dates.  there are good ones and great stories for your friends the next day.  so i've turned (not completely) my usual, "i don't think so" into "well, why not" and let's just say i've got some good stories for you.

i won't name names or even go into too much detail because i'd hate to offend anyone or hurt feelings.  there have been a few dates here and there.  i'd like to keep one or two as friends.  there you go.  i said it, friends.  i thought maybe it was just me.  maybe i've been out of the dating world for so long that i've turned into this old spinster sitting on the park bench with a bag of stale bread for the birds and these young whippersnappers are speaking in a slang i don't understand.  maybe i don't understand dating.

let's just say most dates have had a common theme.  the lack of crazy laughter... a somewhat melancholy gray cloud hovering.  there seem to be quite a handful of not-so-happy people out there.  it's ok to have a bad day here and there.  but on a date, shouldn't it be your A-game? and of course, i turn into the perpetual entertainer because, well, it's what i do in quiet awkward situations.  i dig out old stories, i reach into my polite indifference bag and pull out my thesaurus to replace "oh, interesting."  there are only so many times one can say "that's interesting" before the other person realizes... i'm not that interested.

manners are good.  i miss manners.  i don't need someone to open a door for me or pull out my chair, but just have SOME manners.  politeness, courtesy, make your date feel like it's a special evening.  don't make your date do all the work.  meet in the middle. make your date feel like it's a date.  i swear i walked away from a couple of them thinking - did i just hang out w/ my new friend or was this a first date?  i've discussed w/ my best friend who said, of course they are dates, what else would they be?  i don't think it's a good sign when i am scratching my head on the way home thinking - uh, if we hang out again, will that be a date?  will that be date number two?  can you ask your date if that was a date?  because i'm sure that might come off as, well, impolite.  can i say date one more time?  date.  there.  done.

one fella knew it all.  from how the movies i like are terrible to how wrong i was about a pronunciation.  look, i'll admit, i think i know everything but i can say when i don't.  and if on a date, i try to refrain from doing the nanny nanny boo boo dance when i'm correct and you're mistaken. ya lost me there bucko.  don't pretend i'm right, just don't stand on a table declaring your genius.

maybe i've watched too many movies.  i expect a date to be easy breezy w/  a pinch of nervousness.  that there should be hair twirling and eyelash batting and no room for doubt that THAT was a date.  a little old school w/ an innocent end to the evening.  i think all girls want butterflies on the drive home.  all girls want to squeal like a 6th grader (internally of course) when his name pops up on the phone. i'm not asking for john cusack to follow me across the country or for ryan gosling to stand outside in the rain waiting for me... or ewan mcgregor to have made a daffodil field appear outside my window. (although, ewan, if you're reading this, seriously, you wouldn't have to try that hard. you could bring me chewed gum and i'd swoon.) just some sparks.  or one spark.  sigh.  at least you can make a new friend.

hopefully after my next date or two, i will have great stories about a great date. keep your fingers crossed!

Monday, May 14, 2012

hands

i never know what to do with mine.  should i put them in my pocket?  keep them loosely at my sides?  tilt clap leading to jazz?  it's an odd thing to worry about, but i do.  should i tuck them under my legs when sitting or crack my knuckles when waiting?  what the hell do you do w/ your hands?

i could try this

Saturday, March 17, 2012

a 30-something's St. Patrick's Day ...


Today is St. Patrick's Day.  A day devoted to a Saint that is celebrated by green beer and shenanigans.  I didn't say I don't celebrate.  I'm half-irish, so I don't need the "Irish for a day" pin thankyouverymuch.  I've got plans for the evening.  Now while I'm not one of those LET'S HAVE A GUINESS AT 8 AM people, I do have a little tradition w/ my father (the Irish half of the family) that we toast w/ a shot of whiskey today.  He has his little green mug hanging off of a beaded necklace and his already rosy cheeks as his ensemble.

I, well I have a sheet of tattoos, my Applebee's waitress flair, my random Old Navy St. Paddy's tees and a minor love of whiskey (see above tradition I initiated).  Now, I do not plan on getting so sh*tfaced that I get a punch in the face BUT I do plan on taking a break from my usual crazy schedule to get out there w/ the rest of the drunks tonight.  And I mean that in the nicest way possible!

Back to my flair.  Yes, I will wear green so please... no pinching!  I have a general weirdness with invading of my space.  Thanks in advance.  (Unless you get the "ok" from me for said space-invading).  I will also have my "kiss me, I'm irish" pin w/ me... but that's another tricky accessory.  That's more like the good jewelry.  You don't just wear that anywhere and you keep an eye on who is eyeing it up.  (Cillian Murphy or Bono... the pin will be proudly on display lads.)

So ladies, prepare yourself for lots of fake irish accents and baaaad jokes about shamrocks.  An irish toast for you: Here's to being single, to drinking doubles and to seeing triple!  Slainte!

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Power Outage


My lights just flickered and my alarm needs to be reset.  Reminded me of wee me.

I remember back in the good old days when television stations experiencing "technical difficulties" had that long dark pause in between show and commercial that eventually led to the "bear with us..." plea on the screen.  And, the wackadoo ideas kind of kid I was, that long dark pause scared the bajeebies out of me.  For some reason, I expected the Hulk (yes, comic book and old telly icon) to jump out of the screen and "get me."  He TERRIFIED me.  My sister, who was 12 years older than me, even had "hulk spray" she spritzed around the room before I went to sleep. 


Funny thing is, 25 years later or so, I bought a pair of kids' Hulk gloves that make noises.  They were my destresser.  Something about hearing HULK SMAAAAAAASHHHHH that makes an otherwise craptastic day a wee little bit better.





Thanks Incredible Hulk.