with the Widow of the Upper East Side and her awesome smart-alicky fashion commentary on
Steps of The Met. An instant blog favorite. With posts like these "I do love a bitch who knows how to switch up her looks, cause you know she'll switch it up in the sack. That's why Mariah Carey mussssst be the worst lay ever. Another day, another skin tight LBD. Just plain sick. Taylor has the ability to infuse a variety of styles into one outfit without looking like a fan of booze and Vicodin."
I started online dating again. Call it a momentary life lull. A friend of mine posted a link to his profile on Ok Cupid asking for advice. After checking out his profile, I found myself almost subconsciously filling out my own. I genuinely signed up with zero expectation. I thought the site was well-designed and I had some time to kill. In general, I try to keep an open-mind to online dating, but from experience I know it can be fruitless and exhausting.
At a time when dudes should be the least of my focus–I meet 2 genuine, attractive, thoughtful guys (whom I endearingly nickname Sweet Lips and Mr. February). So I do what comes as natural as applying mascara at a red light... I casually date them both. I make no promises and I encourage them to date other people (mostly out of my own guilt). I can feel almost immediately that this will not be enough for either of them. My luck that I meet probably the last 2 men in the (410) that are not afraid of the "C" word. This is good luck, right? I'm 2 times as lucky, but now I am torn between deciding between 2 great guys. Lucky me. These guys have different interests, musical taste, hobbies, etc. It's like comparing brie to manchego and I'm a chic that likes cheese and variety. Not sure if that analogy worked, but maybe you get the picture.
Well lucky 'ole Me. This weekend was Virgin Fest and when Lil Miss Taco Tuesday had a change of plans I invited Sweet Lips to join me. He had prior plans to attend an annual family crab feast. We decided to stop by there for a bit and then drive down to the concert in time to catch the major acts. I was meeting some of his family (mainly his cousins) for the 1st time, no biggie. I'm outside on a gorgeous day at his cousin's house digging into crabs. 3 and I'm over it. I leave Sweet Lips outside and go into the kitchen to wash my hands. I'm munching on some green beans as Mr. February walks into the room. I would give up cheese and chocolate for a week to see the reaction on my face at that moment. I do remember how I felt... Total and utter disbelief! Like woah OR holy shitballs! Krusty the Clown could've walked in the room and I would've felt less shock. These 2 dudes that I would've never put in similar social circles are about to stand in the same room... AND, I am so busted or am I? I did have a total initial panic. Mainly, I wanted to avoid embarrassment for everyone involved. Ok, mainly for myself. Panic turned into awkward/inward laughter, especially after introducing one to another and then kinda back to scared stiff as I watched the minutes tick down on the industrial-size clock.
I left (escaped) without an ugly confrontation and opted to admit the sticky situation to Sweet Lips after the concert. Turns out that Mr. February plays in the same string quartet as Sweet Lips's cousin's wife. Follow that? Doesn't matter. It's a ridiculous coincidence and although I was upfront about my casualness with both of them... I still feel like a creep. A creep that needs to figure out what she really wants as not to upgrade to jerk status. Not sure how I actually feel about the "C" word anymore? I was just becoming a pro at the one more readily used in relationships these days... Casual.
Text Messages OUTGOING -I just called and moved it to tomorrow morning :_ -If you don't think it will take that long... Is there a game? -I was dreaming I was having sex with Henry VIII when you sent that (too much Tudors). Good night? -Awh, great day tho! -OMG I just tried on the funniest shit! JLO jean jumper circa '99 with hip slits :) -They have sugarbats in the mall! What do you call them again? I tried to take a pic but got denied. -You say sugar glider, I say flying rat. -I'm at a family cookout with Sweet Lips and Mr. February walks in! There are max 20 people here! I am cursed! -Sweet Lip's cousin in law plays in Mr. Feb string quartet!!!! I am in the Twilight Zone right now. -Wow, what are the chances?! - Pretty ridiculous -Hey chica, leaving here in an hour... Can't wait to see ya! -Here! Lady, where ru? -Concert was alot of fun. I'm literally hobbling around today from jumping around so much. My age is catching up to me ;) -I'm sorry! I'm a jerk, especially when just waking up or when going to bed or when hungry, etc ;) did you have fun a the game? -Busy? Or you hate me?
Text Messages INCOMING -I want to get there around 5:30. Are you meeting with your freelance client? -Ohh nice! -You know I could run over and pick you up so you don't have to take a can -Can=cab. Stupid phone -Hey -Ow that ride hurt -You and your jumpers. :) -Craziness! They're called sugar gliders. -AH! Holy shit! What are the freaking odds?! -Awkward... Im sure you handled it... Or did u sneak out? :) -U are crazy! -Total crazy. Smalltimore. -Woo hoo!!!!!! Call me when u get here!!!! -How was the concert? -U hurt my feelings!! -That's ok. I was drunk and loud. I apologize. I had a great time at the game. I lost my voice. You should eat and rest up. -Not busy and definitely don't hate you - care abt you more than I can express - though yesterday definitely threw me for a loop.
I won't be partaking in anything as classy as this... I'll be sweaty and surrounded by drunken minors, stepping on my feet to get a closer look at their favorite band. Yes, it's that time of year... Virgin Festival!
My official free-pass to go ape shit :) AND, frankly I deserve it!
My first memory of making fun of Gingers was many years ago... Elementary School... Art Class to be exact. Not sure how the discussion came about, but the young 5th grade girls were huddled in the back of the room cleaning off paint brushes when the subject of red-heads arose. Never shy to voice my opinion, I'm all like, "Gross, red-headed boys are so not cute!" How was I supposed to know that my brunette art class teacher had a ginger son?!? Ugh, I was informed of that fact after it was obvious she was eaves-dropping in our conversation. What does a 5th grader know about recessive genes anyway? Here I am... Star Artist! Instantly demoted to Black Sheep. Since then I have lowered my voice and looked over my shoulder once or twice before making fun of Gingers. That's why I'm so very happy that... making fun of Gingers is now in fashion :)
My friend Finks and I were discussing Gingers at the bar recently. He has a thing for the 15% of Gingers that he believes are Hotties, but then discards the other 85% to the bottom of his hair color scale. I on the other hand can't really think of any "Hot" Ginger men. They immediately go to the bottom of my scale. Not that I'm opposed to dating one... I have, but most of the conversations with my GF's usually ended with, "Well, he is a Ginger..." All the Ginger-talk led to the "Ginger Kid" South Park episode which I had clearly missed the bus on. I suggested we pay the tab and immediately hit a computer to watch it. Freakin' hilarious! Daywalkers?!? What? I love learning new derogatory terms. Get schooled on Gingervitus here (Season 9, ep.11).
BTW: I think it's super sexy to see some salt/pepper grey mixed in any hair color.
*If Mr. Right came in Ginger-packaging, I'd be all for it. I would just cross my fingers and hope that my genes dominate.
The Book Clutch courtesy of Kate Spade. Very cute idea with an unattractive price tag. I'm thinkin' it can be done without a hinge, sewing in an interior pocket, coating with a polyurethane seal and affixing some type of leather clasp to close... maybe schoolbook style. Would be a cute gift for my GF's. I'll get right on it ;)
The other day, I had a totally normal/civil/genuine conversation with one of my ex's. He had initially called to ask whether or not I wanted this dresser back that my mother had lent him. But before we got into that, we went through the typical catch-up... "How's work? How's your family? How was your summer? blah/blah/blah." But there was no bitterness. I genuinely wanted to hear that he was doing well. See, he was one of the only decent dudes I dated in my 20's. My 20's were plagued by back2back douche bags who I stupidly pledged my devotion to. I had to learn my lessons the hard way. Realize that–kicking and screaming my way through a relationship is no way to live. Realize that–it's not up to me to be anyone's savior, when I obviously need to help myself.
Eventually, I got to asking him if he was dating anyone. EVEN THOUGH... I totally knew the answer. He was never in my immediate social scene (not that I really have one and I totally do not recommend dating in your "circle"), but Smalltimore always lives up to it's name. Word of his new chic got back to me soon enough. Chances have it that Lil Miss Taco Tuesday works with his new chic's mother. She put 2 and 2 together and I received a phone call one random workday afternoon–demanding me to sign on to her facebook account and then click on chic's page, where I immediately found pics of their young love. I honestly did'nt feel much. Although there is always the automatic comparison that you do with new chic and you. Ego still intact, I was happy for him. She obviously could hear birds chirping when she was with him. It was cute. I hear now he has whole facebook albums dedicated to him (a ridiculous amount of poses with a boogie board). Well... good for him. He needed a chic like that. And maybe this dudeneeded a chic that was going to dedicate Flickr albums to him. Who knows... I know it ain't me.
I can't revolve my world around Dude. I will never dedicate albums to you.
Point really being... I felt all kinds of grown-up for having a grown-up conversation with an ex. Sad I know, but reality. You want to hear sad... I almost told someone the other day to "not be so nice... because I am a recovering bad boy lover" :/
Enjoy this insanely perfect weather while you still can... Last weekend, I checked out an outdoor sculpture exhibit at the Evergreen titled Simultaneous Presence. The exhibit is free and just north of Loyola in Bmore. Beautiful grounds of an old mansion (now a museum), littered with odd/thought-provoking, sometimes beautiful statements. Ends September 26, so get ta steppin'.
(Looking at dude at next table with way older lady) LM Honsauce: I think it's his mom Me: He's cute, too bad I just divulged all my dating drama, maybe I should've used my indoor voice... LM Honsauce: What are you talking about? This IS your indoor voice.
LM Honsauce:I feel old in Brooklyn, like know one wears heels like that... you dress like you stink but you don't actually stink. You smell like roses but you look like poop. Hipsters are funny that way.
This is as close as I'll probably ever get to Jordan Catalano (sigh...............)
Wednesday night I went to see 30 Seconds to Mars at a packed Sonar.
I'm by no means a huge fan, but I heard they're a good live act and I rarely pass up the opportunity for a show.
Those of you unfamiliar with Jared Leto's earlier work, please get with it! It's great Lazy Sunday kinda stuff. Actually a pretty ground-breaking show for it's time... My So-Called Life "I just like how he's always leaning. Against stuff. He leans great." (says a young Claire Danes)
Last week I caught the last film of the summer projected on the pier at Fells Point. It was one of the only nights in months with zero humidity, so bonus add to the picturesque setting. The film was: 500 Days of Summer, which I had already seen but was eager to watch again. One scene in particular stood in my mind the second go round... Joseph Gordon-Levitt's character is in full-blown twinkle-toes effect. Euphoria has taken over and he seems pretty much unstoppable, especially in the work arena. There is a scene where co-workers are coming to him for help with "hooks" for greeting cards and the creative juices are flowin'. He's spewing out clever/catchy/witty lines one after another, regardless of the subject matter. So I got to wondering...
Does being in love lead to greater creative productivity?
(Doesn't this look like a Gap ad? btw)
I've been trying to think back on past love-like experiences, but I really can't remember if I felt more inspiration to "create" during those times. In all honesty, the last time I think I heard birds chirping it was only for like 4 months and that was prob more than 3 years ago. I do assume that it would at least free up some more time for creative pursuits. Single people (at least this one) feel the need to fill their schedule. Or else they might be deemed worthless individuals, but that's another topic.
There's always that flip-side though... the part of the movie where things fade to gray, sometimes black. The part where his boss suggests that he might be better suited writing bereavement cards. Not much productivity there. He does eventually use this opportunity as inspiration to pursue his actual dreams to become an architect. Which I believe, if he was pursuing from the get then the chic probably wouldn't have left him. Point being: We are at our most-sexiest when we are actually pursuing our dreams, not just talking about them. This is what I'm working on right now... being at my most-sexiest.