Learning limits

When I started this blog lord knows how many years ago, it was a way for my friends and family to check in on my nonsensical mental ramblings from time to time.  I'm not cool enough to think that anyone really cares what I'm doing or thinking about on a day to day basis, but this blog was an excuse for me to not write each and every one of the people that cared enough to ask me what I've been up to lately on an individual and regular basis.  Want to know what I've been up to lately?  Check the blog -- I probably won't return your emails or calls.

Well, aside from some random postings here and there, I've done a piss poor job returning calls and emails as well as keeping this blog up-to-date.  Er, sorry?

Last week, I promised myself that I would do a better job posting personal updates on this blog.  I swore this at 7am on Monday morning as I tried to motivate myself to be more productive on all fronts -- career, fitness, love, life and personal expression.  Well, fitness won out, and I made it to Yogaworks in time to do two back to back sculpt and yoga classes.  Then career and life took over as my week became consumed by more pressing demands -- job searching, networking, urgent emails, making plans with friends, driving all over northern California, yada yada.  My intentions of being introspective, thoughtful and creative (along with keeping my friends and family posted) went flying out the window, followed shortly by resolutions to eat healthier.

So here I am on a Saturday night, a week late on my new resolve to write more.  Well, a gal's got to start somewhere, so let's pretend it's still Monday, and let me tell you about last (last) week.

It was a week of learning my own limits.  Despite my tender spinster age of 32, I still don't quite know when not to push the envelope.  This is what I learned this week.

Dude, chillax.

I thought I was being productive when I schedule back-to-back meetings along the peninsula on Monday.  The day started early with my third post-op appointment in Redwood City, followed by a coffee meeting/informational interview in Mountain View, followed by a meeting with a recruiting/temp agency in San Bruno.  By the time I made it back to Concord around 7pm, I had spent the entire day in meetings or in my car.  I was overcaffeinated, underfed, and dehydrated, and my body declared war when both my feet cramped painfully.  I wanted to go to the gym.  I wanted to catch up on email.  I wanted to relax.  I was so tired and my feet hurt so much that I could do none of the above.  Everything I wanted to do on Monday night got pushed to the rest of the week.   My attempts to be efficient completely ignored personal and mental health, and in the long run, I was less efficient.

No, bikram and scotch don't mix.  Really.

If Monday night wasn't evidence enough that it's important to listen to my body, I thought I'd test the theory again.  Wednesday was a busy day, and after a long day of emails, phone calls, and research, I hit the bikram studio and made plans to meet a friend for drinks.

Big mistake.  Bikram dehydrated me, and I didn't make time to eat (again).  By my third drink, I was piss ass drunk.  Fortunately, my friend took my car keys away.  Unfortunately for him, I spent the night worshipping porcelain.

While I've had my share of evenings where I may not remember specific comments or conversations (it's usually because it's been a long night where I've had lots of conversations, not because I've been too drunk to remember).  I've always known where I was or what I was doing no matter how many drinks I've had.  Three drinks gets me pleasantly buzzed, not crazy hammered. So, I'm a little freaked that there's a huge chunk of time on Wednesday -- midnight to 4:30 -- that I don't rememer.  I remember blowing chunks, and then the next thing I know, my alarm is going off at 4:30am.  Why it would have been set to 4:30am is a mystery to me.

I embarrassed with my behavior, I feel terrible that my friend had to take care of me, and I'm lucky that nothing worse happened to me.  I've never experienced that before and don't want to again.  Next time, I won't go to yoga, or I'll cancel drinks.  I don't think I can have it both ways.

It does really come back to bite you in the ass.

Thursday -- drunk, nauseous and hung over.  Friday -- exhausted from Wednesday and Thursday.  Did I get everything I wanted to get done this week done?  In retrospect, my efforts to try and cram too much into my days backfired.  One of the reasons I left New York was for a better quality of life, but I'm having a hard time leaving my New York habits behind.  I need to work on taking better care of myself, knowing my own limits and not overextending myself.

...And, the silver lining...

A lot of my past week was spent stressed that I didn't get everything on my to-do list done, angry with myself because it was my fault that I didn't get my to-do list done, and embarrassed that someone had to take care of me.  I'll admit, I was a little depressed and spent a few hung-over days wallowing in self-pity.

So I'm glad something pulled me out of my self- and alcohol-induced funk.  Well, someone.  A boy, actually.

I think we might be dating, but I'm not sure.  I kind of like it this way -- it's a nice, sweet and innocent sort of uncertainty.  The kind that comes from two people who're slowly getting to know each other better.  We're probably both trying to figure out if we're going to end up friends or something more.  While I don't know what I want yet, I do know that there's something about being around him that makes me happy.  I really like spending time with him.

He surprised me on Saturday night with beautiful drive over the GG Bridge and into Marin.  We had dinner at the Parkside Cafe on Stinson Beach, had drinks in Bolinas, and made a pathetic attempt to identify constellations from off of the Shoreline Hwy before heading back to SF.  Even if we weren't on a date and we're just two friends out for dinner, the night still qualifies as one of the best dates I've ever been on.  Spending time with the boy made what was a pretty crappy week end in a good way.

He said WHAT?

I wonder if there's something about me that just screams IF YOU'RE A STALKER, COME TALK TO ME.

I had a meeting in midtown today. As I waited in line at the security desk at the lobby, the man in front of me offered to pass my ID to the security desk. I almost handed him my ID, and then he laughed and said he was joking. He did, however, want my information so he could call me some time.

I "laughed" and politely told him I didn't think it was a good idea.

Unfortunately for me, we ended up in the same elevator together (with a poor woman who tried to pretend she was invisible). The man was very persistent and asked again if he could have my contact information.

Once again, I said, "NO."

He asked why I wouldn't give it to him. Since I was in an elevator, it was extremely awkward and uncomfortable for me to continue to have a conversation that I clearly didn't want to have, and I couldn't leave, I tried to be polite and make a joke out of it.

"I woke up this morning and decided that I wasn't providing my contact information to anyone today. Sorry," I told him.

He promised that he'd be back tomorrow to sit in the lobby and wait for me all day.

"Well," I said, "seems like it might be hard for you to get any work done that way."

It reminds me of someone I dated someone briefly last spring. Let's call him X.

X pushed things between us to become serious and exclusive (I'm not a huge fan of exclusive dating. What's the point, unless I plan on marrying someone?), and then quickly decided things weren't working out because he needed "to be free and to see what else was out there." This was after he already already made ridiculous declarations of his love for me within our first month of dating (which made me extremely uncomfortable because WHO DOES THAT?!?).

While I wasn't particularly happy that X had insisted I jump through hoops to "commit to an exclusive relationship with him" when I clearly didn't want to be exclusive only for him to realize that he needed to be "free," I didn't object too much because if I were honest, I agreed with him. Plus, I don't want to be with anyone who needs to see "what else is out there" before knowing if they want to be with me. If they haven't already figured it out, then they ought to go find out without my participation.

X was an inappropriate partner for me in every way possible. The only reason we began to date was because I had just ended a very important relationship with A (who is amazing and now a close friend), and I was in a vulnerable state. X had been persistently pursuing me for over a year, and he happened to call and ask me out at a time where it was hard for me to say no.

A month after X ended things, he came back and wanted to try again because he thought he had made a mistake, and he missed me. I had started to come out of my A-break-up-induced funk by then, and I didn't cooperate with X's attempts to restart things because he wasn't someone I wanted to be with. I was polite. I went through the motions of going on a date with X, but...eh.

I don't trust wishy washy people, especially men. There's something about wishy-washy men that reminds me of temperamental children. They always want the shiniest and newest toys, but they lose interest quickly. I've heard my share of stories about wishy-washy men who decide, after 20 years of marriage, a mortgage and 3 children, that married life isn't for them. It's sad and a little selfish for them to make that decision with disregard for how their actions will affect their ex-wives and children. If that's the way they felt, perhaps they ought to have realized that before having a family? Anyone who starts throwing "I love you" around after only a month of dating someone is one of those men.

After X's second attempt to "date" me, I didn't hear from him for a while. Then, I ran into him a few times, and we were polite to each other each time. I had no hard feelings towards him, and I can't imagine that he'd me mad at me in any way. The last time I ran into him, he called me within minutes of seeing me to ask if I wanted to stop by his home to check out ___________ (insert whatever hook here, like art, gadget, whatever). I may have an annoying tendency to take people at face value, but I am not completely naive. I politely declined.

Since then, X occasionally emails, texts or calls (and usually leaves vmails, since I almost always screen calls unless I'm in a rush). It seems to happen about once a month, probably when he's a little bored and lonely and wonders where his friends are or what everyone's up to. According to my apartment super, a man fitting X's description even stopped by my apartment once to ask if I still lived there. Every once in a while (about three or four times now), I'll get a voicemail from X telling me he's at my gym and hoping to run into me. (I live in the West Village, he lives on the East side, and we both have gyms within 2 blocks of our respective apartments.) While I want to tell X to bugger off, I don't because we operate in similar social circles and I would prefer things to remain friendly. But, I do think that X is a stalker if I've seen one.

Goodbye Silver Fox

Goodbye Silver Fox.  Here's why things will never work for us:

1. I eventually figured out that you are close to 20 years my senior, and when I jokingly mentioned you were twice my age, you got offended. Let's call things as they are and admit that you are not as young as like to pretend, and you are not good at pretending.

2. You made me go outside an admire your new BMW on our first date as if I cared what sort of car you drove.

3. You drink too much and then start shouting random Rolling Stones lyrics even if they aren't playing at the time.  We were at Crispo for dinner, and every few minutes, you'd get up and start belting out Rolling Stones lyrics even though there was no music and we were in a sit down restaurant.

4. You drink too much and then start telling me that I'm not going to do any better than you because you're extremely good looking, very successful, tall and in the best shape of your life.

5.  You drink too much and then imagine yourself friends with everyone. We went for drinks at Cibar, and you proceeded to yell Rolling Stones lyrics across the bar at the British DJ and explained that you two were great friends.  Later, the DJ asked me what was up with the annoying guy who kept yelling Rolling Stones lyrics across the bar, because every time he was at Cibar, that's all he did.

6. You told me you when to Yale at one point, and when I started to ask you about it (because I know people that went to Yale), you explained you attended a high school gifted program at Yale University one summer.  We both know that is very different from "going to Yale."

6. You enjoy hanging out in the meatpacking district and spend most of your weekend evenings there.  The one night I got to pick the bar, we ran into Heather Mills at the Rusty Knot.  When she left, you told me that you two were part of the same social circle in the Hamptons, and Heather has thrown herself at you numerous times, but you weren't interested.  At this point, I'm certain you had drank too much.

7. On our second date, you tried to get me to go home with you, using the very convincing and original rationale that you are very good looking, successful and tall.  I went home alone.

8.  On our third date, you upped the ante, and in addition to good looking, successful and tall, you also told me that you really really wanted a girlfriend, and if I went home with you, you'd take me shopping.  I went home alone.

9.  The morning after our third date, you sent me an email with a subject line: let's consummate our friendship tonight.  intimacy is very important to me."  In the body, you had attached a picture of two women in various stages of undress.  That's when I finally picked up the phone and politely ended any interaction with you by telling you that despite your height, success and good looks, we were in different places in life.  You agreed and told me I was boring.

Well, it's a good thing that I'm wishing you a goodbye then, Silver Fox!

This'll be useful for dating

Girls, rejoice. Gone are the days you're forced to have an awkwardly uncomfortable conversation with a guy who thinks he's super suave but is actually a jerk. This set of cards will do the work for you!
Order yours here.

He said WHAT?

"I want to put this in that."

That's what he said to me at the end of our date the other night.

A date that began with a dinner where I tried to order a salad as a starter.

He wanted us to share a starter and an entree, which I was happy to do.

I wanted the salad.

He "suggested" several times that I order the hummus or the chicken lettuce wraps instead because it was more value for the money (a salad was "just lettuce and croutons").

Unwilling to have to negotiate for my dinner, I decided if he didn't want me to order the salad, I'd just share the entree with him and forgo the starter. We ended up sharing a salad and entree for our dinner.

By the time the movie ended, it was late. He walked me home and wanted to come upstairs. I was tired and had an early day ahead of me, but he had tried SO hard to be sweet that night. After having known him for only three months, I knew it was difficult for him to part with money spent on someone other than himself. I let him up but warned him it was only for a few minutes because I really needed to go to sleep soon.

We sat on my couch, channel surfed the telly, talked and cuddled a bit. It was all very PG-13.

Despite his many personality traits that are incompatible with mine, he's smart and has interesting ideas. The conversation was good. His attempts to get me to lay down on the couch with him were not so great though.

He interrupted me mid-sentence and said, "I want to put this" (grabs his crotch) "in that" (pokes my crotch with his forefinger).

I kid you not. It really happened. The date was officially over.

Cool and creepy

all at once...

And, kind of romantic too.

http://gawker.com/396294/blogger-boy-needs-you-for-girlfriends-brooklyn-birthday

Ryan is a friend of a friend. Both he and his gf are pretty cool people. I'm glad Gawker picked it up. Some of the comments were pretty funny, but some seemed meanspirited, which is pretty New York for ya.

He said what? (redux)

Mr Please-pour-me-a-glass-of-sperm called Thursday and wanted to see when we could hang out again.  As I mentioned in my previous post, I have no plans to go on a second date with him.  But, I'd like to keep things on friendly terms if possible.  It was R's birthday party on Friday night, so I didn't want to have other plans.  I told Mr Sperm that we could possibly hang out Saturday afternoon.  He must not have believed me, as he texted me repeatedly to ask me if I was free on Friday. I explained (again) that I had a birthday party but we could talk about hanging out on Saturday afternoon.  On Friday night, while I was at R's birthday party, he called me every five minutes starting at 10pm until I finally put my phone on silent b/c it was ringing off the hook.  When I woke up this morning, I checked my phone and found that the last phone call he made to me ended at 3am.  Uh, can anyone say STALKER?  I texted him and asked if he was aware that he drunk dialed me last night, and I suggested he never call me again.  I guess that's a way to not have to go on a second date with anyone!

He said what?

You know, I don't care what anyone says.  My gut instincts can be pretty right on, and I'll keep listening to them even if it means I'll be a spinster.

Last weekend, I attended a former coworker's 29th bday party.   Before I left that night, the birthday girl's 31 year old brother pulled me aside and asked, "I know it's a bit weird because you're my sister's friend and all, but do you mind if I give you a call some time?"

Under most circumstances, I would have said nicely, politely said "no" right on the spot.  I wasn't particularly into him, and he's my friend's brother.  However, I've been getting a lot of flack lately from friends about how I never give men a chance before I shut them down.  Plus, I really would like to meet a nice young man to date, so I should at least put in some effort.  I gave him my number.  We agreed to arrange date details during the week.

I thought it rather sweet when he called me the next day to chat, but by our second phone call, my instincts began to prove themselves true.

Him: "Hey, when do you want to meet up?"

Me: "I'm pretty booked this week, and this weekend's going to be pretty bad too. What do you want to do? I can make time this weekend.  How about Jersey City or Hoboken?"

(I knew he lived somewhere in NJ, so I thought that was pretty considerate for me to offer to go somewhere where he could drive and park.)

Him: "Why don't you come to Pacific Palisades [his neighborhood]?"

Me: "Where is that?"

Him: "In New Jersey, past Edgewater."

Me: "How would I get there?  Is there a ferry?"

Him: "I don't know.  I think you can take the ferry or PATH and then a bus."

(He has a car.)

I'm by no means a prima donna, but I've never been asked out on a date by a guy who then expects me to go to his neighborhood but doesn't offer to meet me or at least explain how I get to his neighborhood without using 3 different modes of transportation.  I've driven to Edgewater before.  It's a good 45 minutes away from where I live by car or by bus. While I was willing to meet in Hoboken or Jersey City, Pacific Palisades is pretty far out of my way.  There was no way I was going to his neighborhood -- I didn't want to be in a situation where I show up only to find that he had no plans in mind and just wants to "hang out" in his apartment.

Under most circumstances, I would have found a non-confrontational way to flake out on our date, but I was trying to be "open-minded."  So, let me tell you about our date tonight...

We met around 10pm to grab a bite over drinks.  I quickly realized there was a language and culture barrier.  I'm Chinese, but despite being born overseas and emigrating to the US when I was six, I'm a Twinkie.  I don't have a lot of Asian friends (but would like more, if you're offering), and if you met me, you'd never realize I wasn't born in the US.  I think and dream in English even though Chinese was my first language.

He's Korean.   While he grew up in suburban NJ and went to an Ivy League Uni in upstate NY, all his friend are Korean.  He worked in Korea for a while, and he lives in a very Korean part of NJ.  He thinks in Korean, and when he speaks English, he must first mentally translate the Korean to English in his head.

It wouldn't have been an issue except that he took everything I said literally (even the ridiculous things) so we were left having a literal conversation about very concrete things. For me, so much of the flirtation and attraction factor resides in verbal wordplay.

I asked him what he liked to do for fun, and he looked at me blankly.  I asked him what he normally did on weekends. He spent 20 minutes giving me an hour by hour run-down of what he did that weekend.

He likes saunas (not a big deal).  He insisted that I need to visit him in New Jersey, and he'd take me to one.

Him: "You come to Jersey, and I take you."

Me: "Well, we can figure that out some other time."  (It was our first date!)

Him: "No, you come."

Me: "We'll see." (I have commitment issues, and I don't like being told what to do.)

Him: "No, you come."

Me: "What's your obsession with having me go to Jersey?"  (Only half playfully.)

Him: "You come. You come. I take you. You come."  (Voice rising.  Hands gesturing insistently.)

In an effort to gloss over what was obviously going to be a difference in opinion, I let the issue drop.  It wasn't the greatest date in the world, but it wasn't unbearable either.

Until we began talking about what he does for a living.  He's a marketing guy, and he was trying to convince me that with proper marketing, companies can sell anything.  Sometimes, it just takes shock value.  Like the short lived energy drink, Cocaine.  The example he gave was what made the date officially unbearable:

Him:  "You can sell anything, as long as you call it by an interesting name.  Take beer.  If I decided to name beer cum, sperm or jizz, I guarantee you someone will buy it."

I put down the burger I was midway through.  I just wasn't that hungry anymore.

He gets louder, "I mean, there's going to be at least one guy who will dare his buddy to drink a nice cold glass of jizz."  He gestures at the beer on tap.  "And, someone will be like, pour me a glass of cum."

I tried to pretend it didn't bother me, but it did.  I changed the subject, but he kept finding ways to bringing it back to glasses of male ejaculate.  It was completely gross, and by the end of the date, I was convinced that he was just passive agressively trying to find ways to use inappropriate words in a sentence to see if it would bother me.

Even worse, however, was that at the end of the date, he asked if he could see me again.  Since he's the brother of a friend, I treaded cautiously and told him that he could call me, and we'd figure it out.  I knew by then, however, that I'd never go on another date with this guy again.

He said what?

from B:

i told you about c, right? she told that guy that she wasn't going to have sex with him until he wasn't seeing other people (i guess he was seeing other people) and he broke up with her for it. that's SHITTY. guys are ASSHOLES.

Language, B! Language!

As to the rest of what you wrote: Um,wow...?

(C is B's old roommie from two roommates ago)

(if you look at how language is spelled enough times, it starts to look weird.)