Recycling: Good for cans … Bad for men

My name is LG, and I admit that I have a problem.  

I am a habitual recycler.  Unfortunately, I don’t think that Al Gore or Greenpeace is going to present me with an award for this type of recycling.

I recycle exes.

What that means is that although a relationship didn’t work out in the past, I am more than happy down the road to consider a more casual arrangement.  If this happens once or twice, it’s no big deal – you probably don’t have a certifiable problem.  But in my case, I have more or less had an ex “on deck” for the past ... always. 

I didn’t realize that this was strange or unusual until my BFF pointed out that I have long-term relationships with guys that I don’t deem acceptable to be my boyfriend.

 For instance:

-     A non-lationship with one heavily tattooed waiter* lasted 3+ years

(*At least he worked at Gibson’s.  Not that I ever got to dine there, because we weren’t technically dating).

-     I casually saw “The Giant” for 3.5 years, despite him not living in Chicago & him driving me bonkers every time we hung out.  I swore each time was the last … until it finally was last summer.

-     And recently I have reignited a non-lationship with an old flame who is a little too into me.  My friends have predicted that this one will end badly.  I counter that since we aren’t really dating, there shouldn’t have to be any messy “ending” – in theory.

For those of you who wonder how my fake boyfriends might inhibit me getting a real boyfriend, I don’t really see much of a conflict.  Of course, I haven’t really had a boyfriend in a long time either… but clearly having exes waiting in the wing isn’t the issue.

Or is it?

Another Strange Occurance (aka- threesome, anyone?)

I don’t know why really weird things in the dating world always happen to me, but here's a real head-scratcher.

I was out with friends Saturday night, hanging out at Toon’s after a pub crawl.  Towards the end of the evening we were talking to a couple guys who were pretty decent.  Nothing to write home about, but passably cute.   They were going to another (lame-o) bar down the street and invited us to come along. 

Against my better judgment, I allowed my friends to talk me into following this guy & his friends to Hye Bar (eww, I know).  My friends & I grab seats at the bar, and after a few minutes this dude comes over & starts talking to me.  He is geographically undesirable (lives in Naperville) and had corn kernel teeth (that’s what I call teeth that are unusually small – fortunately they weren’t yellow like corn, but just unattractively tiny), so I had pretty much made up my mind that I wouldn’t be making out with him.

But as per usual, I found myself hanging out with him & his buddy for an unnecessary amount of time.  At one point, I got up to leave & they bought me another drink.  So I stayed – I mean, I’m not going to let a fresh drink go to waste, right?  Eventually I realized that it was unreasonably late for this 30-something, so I said my good-byes and departed the bar, after giving my digits to Suburban Boy.

The following texts transpired:

BOY 1:51 am:  Hey, it’s Brian.  Hope you got home ok.  You were a fun girl.  J

BOY 1:54 am:  John and I were hoping you’d stay and have some fun  ;)   (winky smiley face)

ME  2:03 am:  Sorry Brian, it was a good time for sure, but it was time to call it a night.  Feel free to call me sometime when ur in the city.  (I didn’t really mean this, BTW.)

Then I go to bed.  When I wake up in the morning, the following message was waiting for me:

BOY 2:37 am:  Hey, me and John want to have a threesome tonight with you.  I know you’re a good girl but let’s have some fun J

My response?  

ME  6:59 am:  Lose my number.

Seriously – what did he think would happen?  That I’d be like- Absolutely!  You & your friend should come over right now so that we can have a “good time” - despite the fact that I left you in the bar without so much as a cheek kiss? 

Now might be a good time to give up entirely & just get another cat.  Although it IS St. Patty’s Day this weekend… and then March Madness next weekend (aka- attractive men & easy conversation starter) … so maybe I’ll hang in there for a few more weeks, and then happily retire to my sweatpants & cat herding.

PS- A Follow Up from the Bad Dating Gem

Brace yourselves.  The guy who called me "Jewy" on our first date had a follow up that somehow managed to be ever creepier & more offensive then the first.

About a month after we went on our 1 and only date, I was at the Vampire Weekend concert with my friends, and this creep texted me during the show - he was there & actually standing right by my group - but rather than come over & say hi like an adult, he just kept texting me.  Once I spotted him, we gave him the slip & enjoyed the rest of the show creep-free.

He asked me out via text a few times that night and I brushed him off, citing my busy social schedule, rather than the fact that he was an anti-semitic loser.  I received the following email in my Match.com account at 8AM the next day.

Subject:  :)I didn't have your real e-mail and did not want to send you a long text. I know you are a busy lady and so am I, but I think you're really fucking sexy and i like your style. I am not looking for anything serious right now and it seems like you aren't either, so if you are interested in a casual thing I would be very interested as well. In short, I don't want to date you seriously, but i would love to role around naked with you every once in a while. It would be nice to have a friend in the neighborhood. Have a wonderful weekend!


I mean, what???? "I don't want to date you, but I would like to sleep with you?" 
What a charmer!  It's a shock that no one has snapped him up yet.  Ugh.

Mortified - Another Pathetic Diary Entry.

The following video is from my second foray into the world of Mortified.  It recaps my first Homecoming experience during my freshman year of high school, which ended up being completely traumatizing and less than romantic.
The one bright point was that I looked adorable in my black velvet strapless dress with matching black velvet choker.  I promise I will post a pic. 


Again, the storty is transcribed directly from my Precious Moments diary, written when I was 14 years old.

PS- names have been changed to protect the ... innocent?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ebIQN7fAAVI

A Bad Dating Gem!

Egads!  When looking for my self-review for work, I found this little gem that I submitted to The Chicago Reader last year, responding to their request for bad dating stories.  The sad thing is that I forgot about all 3 of these instances (even though they are hilarious) - which further proves just how terrible & traumatizing the dating scene is.  Enjoy.

This is 1 week in the life of a single 30-something.

Last Saturday night a guy I was set up with met me out at a bar.  Let's call him J.  I had met J exactly once, on a casual drinks date a few days earlier.  The first thing out of his mouth on Saturday (after pleasantries were exchanged) was "I shaved my balls tonight."  Excuse me?  Pardon?  WTF?  Who says that?  I was very put off and didn't really know what to say- but don't worry.  He elaborated.  For approximately  5 minutes.  Guys, take a note.  That is WAY too much information.  Keep your grooming habits to yourself & you have a better chance of a girl finding out for herself what's happening in that arena.

The following Wednesday I was on a first (blind) date with a different guy.  He brought absolutely nothing to the table and I had a tough time staying awake.  I wasn’t acting like my usual sparkly self because, really, why bother.  Towards the end of drinks (we had 2) we were finally talking about something that I found interesting, and I became more animated. 

He said to me that as I became drunker, my accent came out and I was more “Jewy”. 

There are so many things wrong with that statement that it’s hard to know where to begin. 

1.       I wasn’t drunk.  I had 2 beers.  You were just boring. 

2.       I don’t have an accent.  Dummy. 

3.       Do not refer to a Jewish person as “Jewy.”  It’s insulting and makes you sound ignorant.

FAIL.

The next night I went out to celebrate a friend’s birthday.  A very handsome man approached me at the bar and was flirting with me.  I (obviously) flirted back.  We chatted for awhile and were becoming more comfortable around each other.  He apparently thought this vibe gave him the freedom to say anything, and he gently touched the back of my head and said “Does your mother know you did this to your hair?” 

Um, come again?  Are you insinuating that my very short, stylish pixie haircut is heinous?  The kicker to this guy is that I think he’s married!  Here is why I suspect that – you be the judge. 

A.            He’s older (late 30s) and very good looking

B.            He was dressed in a dapper manner

C.            He smokes & was acting cagey about it (I bet his wifey doesn’t approve – neither do I)

D.            He pulled out his iphone to get my number and fiddled around with it for awhile, before saying that it wasn’t working.  He asked me to write my number on a cocktail napkin.

Ergo, married.

And people wonder why I’m single.

Flavor for Your Ear - Volume 2

Hope you find some new hits - enjoy your weekend!
xoxo

	SONG	ARTIST
1	Stutter	Elastica
2	Something Else	Diamond Rings
3	Will You Love Me Forever?	Margot and the Nuclear So and So's
4	Catcher In The Rye	Datarock
5	Ana NG	They Might Be Giants
6	Get In Line	I'm From Barcelona
7	It's A Shame About Ray	Lemonheads
8	Zero	Yeah Yeah Yeahs

My Parents Dream Come True.

As I've mentioned a few times, my parents are a wee bit concerned about my perpetually single status.  And while I think they would be happy at this point if I marry anyone at all (except for perhaps a felon), they would be over the moon if I married a fellow M.O.T. (Gentiles, that stands for Member Of the Tribe.  AKA- Jews.  We have our own secret language.  Jealous??)

My folks have taken matters into their own hands on several occasions to try to steer me in the direction of single Jewish men.  Like when they sponsored me on J-Date (twice) by paying for my membership.  Or when they forced me to go to the Matzo Ball in Boca Raton, which is a dance for Jewish people on Christmas Eve, since we clearly have nothing special happening on that particular evening.  Mom & Dad drove me 45 minutes to the "ball", dropped me off by myself to go to this shindig and apparently went to a nearby Denny's to hang out for several hours until it was time to pick me up.  I was 28 years old, by the way.  

But this new website might be right up their alley:  http://www.thejmom.com/%20

I would like to place a bet with a reputable Vegas bookie on how quickly my parents will snatch up this opportunity to have the ability to influence my fledgling love life.  And secretly- between just us girls - I welcome any help I can get at this point.  The more people I have working on my case, the better.

xoxo