BlogNerd, master of "sort of" dates

If my current internship is at "Cool" TV channel, then last semester I had a different internship at "Nerd Central" TV channel. It was fun, though, and no one who worked there was actually that nerdy. On my second to last day, (way back in December) one of the staff members asked me to lunch with a convincing line: "They can't have you work here for free and not buy you a lunch!" I accidentally told him I hadn't eaten yet, and awkwardly accepted his invitation to go to "the best Chinese in this part of town" (which could really mean anything, couldn't it? How small a "part of town" are we talking, here?).

In spite of my terrible fear that this lunch was actually a date (he was paying and he wasn't in my department), we had a pretty fun time. After I carefully over-analyzed his opening the door for me (although, someone has to open it, right?) we sat down and had a pretty good time. As we talked about my plans for winter break, I mentioned that I would be at home for my 21st birthday.

"What day is it?" He asked. When I told him, he got very excited and said "Well, you're not going to believe me unless I show you so..." He reached into his wallet and handed me his driver's license. Sure enough, we had the same birthday. I not-so-quickly did some math to discover his age: 32. Now I was even more fearful that this was a date. But he was really nice, and we did have one tremendous thing in common: a love of blogs.

Soon enough we whisked ourselves back to the office, and he said "Hey come write down your email address for me so I can send you a link to that blog I was talking about."

As I stood at his desk with a piece of paper and pen in my hand, I panicked. "Which email should I give you? Work, or personal?"

"Whichever you want."

Oh crap. Now I not only had to decide which email to give him, but it would be even more obvious that the choice was deliberate. If I gave him my work one now, it would seem a little bit... I don't know, rude? I wrote down my personal email address and went back to my desk.

After sending me the link, we started writing each other about once a week. I found his emails to be clever, or cute maybe? ...basically, I looked forward to reading them. And since I'm such a ball of wit, I enjoyed responding. After our birthdays, I related to him my trouble getting myself drunk on the special day and thereafter.

Last Thursday, I checked my email before going to sleep and saw that I had a new one from him. It was my turn to send him something, so I was a little surprised to see a message from him. It read:

Hey [TAB],
Got a favor to ask you: I want to get MS Office for my MacBook at home, and CompUSA happens to sell a discounted version to students (you may have heard of this phenomenon). I was wondering if you might be up for accompanying me to one of their stores sometime next week for a quick flash of your coveted student status. In return, I could help you out with that (lack of) drinking problem of yours afterward. I mean, c'mon, you've gotta have your first appletini sometime. Up for it?
[BlogNerd]

I thought about it for a day. Does one appletini make it a date? I couldn't tell, but I knew one thing: I liked his emails and I enjoyed his company. I also got the feeling he was a nice guy who wouldn't exactly be expecting me to give him a blowjob under the table. After consulting with S and confirming with a roommate that we could meet somewhere afterward, I came up with this response:

[BlogNerd],
Of course I'll help you stick it to the man. Always a worthy cause. And... about the appletinis. I've become a little more adventurous with my drink selection, so I'll let you pick the drink (as long as it looks delicious). What is your schedule like next week? The only day I can really do anything after work is on Friday, is that okay?
[TAB]

So... hopefully I can pull off an hour of not being awkward. Afterward I'm meeting my roommate at a bar with "tons of hot guys," so I know I'll have something to fall back on. Whew.

Best valentine ever

After drinking a good amount of wine, I was on my way to bed last night when I decided to text The Ex. Even though we're not together, we still text and talk a lot. In general, he usually calls me and he had already texted me a "Happy Valentine's day" earlier, so I thought I'd shoot him something. I wrote "I miss you" and went to sleep.

He called a couple hours later and I answered in a daze. "I miss you a lot too," he said. We went through the usual "I wish you were here so we could be together", and even though they were all honest, they were starting to wear me down. Okay, you wish I was there. You want to be with me. How does this help us? After a few more minutes, there was a pause and I started to get off the phone.

"Well, I should probably go back to sleep. Unless there's something else you want to say." I was hoping for some kind of conclusion that would make a repeat of this conversation unnecessary.

"Well actually, yeah there is something else."

"Okay, what?"

"Well, I kind of have feelings for this other girl." My stomach dropped a little, but I wasn't as disappointed as I thought I might be.

"Okay... so...?" What did he want me to say?

He explained to me how difficult this was for him. "I don't know what to do. I want to be with you at some point. I don't want to lose you."

"Well I can't guarantee that you won't lose me," I told him. Just the truth: that's all I could do at this point.

"I don't think I'm going to do anything about this other girl, I really don't think I am."

Great. Was this supposed to be comforting? All I felt was lost: weren't we already broken up? It was easy to be "friends" when neither of us was seriously thinking about pursuing someone else. But now, I realized how much would change if he ended up dating her or anyone else. The text I had sent earlier? That wouldn't be happening. Saying "I love you" at the end of a conversation? Not anymore. Even having a conversation? Sadly, not so certain.

We discussed all this, and he continued to tell me how important I am to him. "Ever since we've broken up, nothing seems to make sense to me. Even interacting with my friends is different. I feel like everything is falling apart and you were the best part of my life. I don't want to lose you as someone to talk to... I love just talking to you."

Whoa. Hold on. Stop the bus. Doesn't that sound a little bit like an "I want you back" speech? So he's mixing "I love you and want to have a future together" with "I might date someone else"?

After we had both speculated about the whole situation and arrived at no conclusion, I simply said "I don't know what to tell you. It's not my choice to make, so I'm just not going to worry about it any more than I have to."

"Well, what kinds of things do you want me to tell you about?" He asked. The classic question we had always debated back when we had considered an open relationship. Where do you draw the line? Do you want to hear about them kissing or falling in love? Or imagine it all anyway? Another question for which I had no answer.

"I obviously don't want you to lie to me, but it's really up to you. I don't want to have to ask, but I'm sure I'll think about it every time we talk. Just tell me whatever you want to."

As the conversation came toward a natural end, he stalled. "I just don't want to get off the phone, because everything will change."

"Well, there's nothing we can do about that." Part of me didn't want to get off the phone either, but a bigger part was scolding myself for staying on the phone with someone I'm not dating when I needed to get sleep. When we got off the phone, he said "I love you" and I returned the favor before falling asleep.


After reasoning through some of the situation today, I still didn't come to many conclusions. Except that I'm tired of dealing with this and that it's pretty unfair to pull me into this decision-making process. Luckily, I've closed myself off from being too vulnerable about it. He's going to date someone if he wants to, no matter what I tell him.

And then I cackled when I saw that I had another facebook message from The Musician:

"hey there, i'm back safe and sound from south america. at the moment i'm on tour in washington state but i'll be back on monday for about a week and a half or so. wanna chill sometime in there?

have fun in the snow!"

Where's the action?

Valentine's day is tomorrow. I know what you're thinking: "Why aren't you dating?"

... you were thinking that, weren't you?

Okay but if you weren't, now you are.


Well my friends, I'm not going to lie. The men at my school are gay. Gay or socially inept. Gay, socially inept, or taken. And sometimes all three.

I've been trying this new thing though, called "shopping for sluttier clothes." Now before you tell me that I shouldn't have to look slutty to get a man's attention, I should clarify: I don't have to. I can wear some pretty boring clothes and get attention (especially if I sing really loud in the subway. And even then, some of those sidelong glances are pretty lusty). But if men are going to gaze anyway, why not look absolutely delicious and make them sorry they're not getting off at my stop? Honestly, it's the only cruel thing I'm capable of doing to strangers. And lately, I feel like doing bitchy things.

Other than fantasizing about men fantasizing about me, though, I've been pretty celibate. Some of you might be thinking "That's okay! You don't need a man, you just need a vibrator!"

To you, I say "I don't have a vibrator." And even though I do have fingers, I forget about them. I'm a sexual person and all, but every time I think to myself "I'm going to masturbate tonight!" I end up forgetting. When you have to remind yourself to masturbate, I have a feeling you're not really into it.

I did have phone sex with The Ex a couple weeks ago. I don't really regret it, and I probably wouldn't have done it if I wasn't drunk at the time. Oh yeah, The Ex! What's with that? I haven't mentioned him in... a month? Well, he calls me almost every day and we talk. It's not awkward and I'm not obsessed with him and I don't notice it when he doesn't call. I think those are all good things, and I'm glad we have what appears to be an understanding. And I'm glad we're not together. Now I don't feel guilty for lusting after the cute boss in my office or putting Adam Brody on my desktop.

It's nice to be single. Happy Valentine's Day!

Not a great start

"We're having a party on Valentine's day," my housemate R told me with glee.

"Really?" I was surprised. I've only seen R drink one time this year, and that was at the Superbowl. Perhaps she liked it, because I could already tell that by "party" she didn't mean hair-braiding and toenail-painting.

"Yeah, we're all going to dress up and drink wine and be fabulous."

In the days that followed, I worried about this whole "wine" business. Unlike crappy vodka, which can be mixed with sweet juices and sodas, crappy wine is just unenjoyable. And expensive. And my knowledge of alcoholic beverages encompasses only mixed drinks. Wine is for grown-ups.

Last night, R brought me her wine handbook that describes different wines in terms of flavor, acidity, and all those other bells and whistles. After realizing I had no idea what "high acidity" would actually mean, R and I gave up. "You just need to drink more."

This, I could agree with.

Today, R and I went to the wine shop. Instead of guiding me through the store in a nurturing manner, R ran off to some corner of the shop while I gazed at the wall full of bottles. As I wandered to the back, one of the workers asked "Can I help you with anything?"

Reasoning that he could probably tell I was lost, I decided to tell him the truth. "Yes, actually. I don't know that much about wine."

"Well, are you looking for something to cook with, or to drink?"

"Drink" I said abruptly, then felt a little embarrassed. Did that make me sound like an alcoholic in the making?

"Well, what do you want?"

Wait, what? I just told you I don't know anything about wine and you're asking me what I like? "Um..."

"If you tell me something you like, I can give you suggestions."

What the hell? He didn't even start with the basic white/red, sweet/dry... How could I speak to this man? I gave up and just threw out the name of the last red wine I'd drank. "Pinot noir?"

He showed me a wall of pinots and walked away. Superb. The fact that they were all different brands meant nothing to me, except I guessed that, as with vodka, the cheapest one was the worst. I grabbed it anyway. I definitely should have pretended I knew something about wine, I decided as I snuck a glance at R, who was casually perusing the Merlots.

After letting her pick another bottle for me and grabbing two handles of vodka, I was at the checkout counter. "How old are you, miss?" Asked the kind-eyed woman behind the counter.

"Twenty-one, just turned actually!" I chirped.

"Can I see your ID?"

For once, this didn't sound like a threat. Unfortunately, I realized that I might have a smidge of a problem when I pulled out my expired license with a hole punched over my date of birth, and my temporary license... y'know, the one made out of paper.

"Honey, I can't see your date of birth on this one, and the other one could be from anywhere."

"But... I'm twenty one... I don't know what to tell you."

"Do you have a passport?" It was in my room. Lame... "I can't sell anything to you, we could get in big trouble for that."

The lady kindly let R pay for my drinks and we left. If I had manhood, it would be crushed. Instead, when I look at my precious bottles of wine, I can see them mocking me.

Sweet smell of victory (for now)

News on the OI front!

So at the office, there are about 8 interns (aka slaves). The two who matter so far are:
1) OI, who is my dull-witted competition, and
2) AI (Awesome Intern), who is... well, awesome.

On my first day, AI was there and while we went on an errand, she explained the entire office to me. Sort of like in Mean Girls (except replace the word "office" with "school"). She told me the names and positions of all the executives, how long everyone had been working there, and - most importantly - that the exec I would be working for is hot. :) And married. :(

Sure enough, when I met him I was able to confirm her story. And I figure if we have the same taste in men, we can definitely get along. So AI is on my good list. And I'm on hers.

When we were both working this week, I expressed my concern about OI. "It seems like I break everything and she fixes it," I whined. "Everyone's totally going to think she's better than me."

"No way," She consoled me. "She's not that great. And I know for a fact that your boss likes you better."

"Really? How do you know?"

"Because he told me when he chose his interns, 'I picked two interns. One of them is fabulous, she's awesome. The other one... I'm not so sure about.'"

I was horrified. "How do you know he wasn't talking about OI? He totally was! Oh shit."

"No, he was talking about you! He didn't say your name but he told me the good one was getting surgery."

Whew!

"And remember how you had him send you those DVDs?"

When I first got this internship, which is in television, I asked my supervisor if he could send me some of our shows so that I could familiarize myself with the network. I truly wanted to watch them, but knew I was taking a gamble: I could come off as either enthusiastic or demanding.

"Well he loved that!"

"Really?!"

"Totally. He told me about it, he said it was great how excited you were to learn about the network. He told everyone in the office that you had asked for them."

Nice. OI is going down. And I have a friend who's on my side of the war.

I can go all night, but I don't recommend it

In case anyone here thinks I'm actually a responsible adult, let me set the record straight:

I'm not.

Last night, I accidentally stayed up all night because I had procrastinated too long on my schoolwork. Whatever, I can handle it every once in a while. Every time I pull an all-nighter, I just think to myself "You're young, it's not a big deal." Except that I also stayed up all night last Thursday writing a paper (for the same class? You betcha!). So I think both my brain and my body were beyond the "I'm a superhero" phase and more into the "Let's fuck with this bitch" mode.

How can you tell when this happens? Well, today I:

- Fell asleep on the train on the way to Grand Central, and actually did one of those lovely twitches to wake myself up. When I opened my eyes, one of them was tearing up because of the aforementioned anger felt by my body. I assume this resulted in mascara running. As soon as I was up, I checked to make sure my wallet was still in my bag.
- Almost ran into the wall while looking around the corner for cute boss. Three times.
- Lost the power to spell "clitoris" in my sex psychology class. I wrote "clitorous" and then stared at the word, bewildered that I had no idea about the correct spelling. I looked at the paper of the person next to me and realized my mistake.
- Was somehow unable to read during another class when my professor told us to quickly look something up. I panicked, then read the same paragraph five times. When that didn't work, I wrote the exact words in my notebook and read them. Smooth.
- Forgot the word "slow-mo" (as in slow motion). Instead, what came out was "Slow-Bo."*
- Think I spoke in some half-English language on the phone with L, who wants to interview me for some article. I can't imagine she got any good quotes.
- Told my roommate "You're like a pillow!"

At least I was charming when one of my sort-of crushes made small talk with me. Either that, or I think I was charming and he may avoid me for the rest of the year. I guess we'll see.

*This isn't a word, but everyone in the room liked it so I plan to continue using it.

Because I know you are more interesting than I

So not that I'm writing a screenplay or anything... not that I'm in a screenwriting class... not that I'm a writer at all, really...

But...

If I was writing a screenplay, and the topic happened to be dating, and I needed to do research...

Fuck it.

Hey guys, I'm in a screenwriting class, and I'm writing a script about dating. Specifically, Internet dating (think Match.com, not cybersex). If you have any stories for me about dates you've been on (particularly the bad ones), I would love to hear them. If you have any stories about Internet dating in general, I would also be delighted. If it's too long or too... um... detailed, email me at tabtheblog@gmail.com.

Detail is key. What makes the date memorable? Why did it work or not work? I do want to hear your thoughts about why a date in general works, but I also want specifics. Mostly, I want funny stories. This post, for example, would be perfect. First dates and your thoughts on them would be great. And, if you feel compelled to make up an imaginary date because you want to fool me or impress me with your witty imagination, go ahead. I want that too. If you want to send me your online dating profile and ask me out...

I'll think about it.


Oh. My next post will be about an awkward date I went on. I was going to bribe you with pictures of me, but I'm a wimp.

I said brr... it's cold in here

The heat in my house isn't working properly. The result is that when it gets really cold out, the house is only about 50 degrees Farenheit. But 50 is only a number. Let me offer some more graphic ways to understand what this means:

- When I grab silverware or dishes, it chills my hand.
- When I put food on my plate, it stays hot for about 2 minutes.
- With 3 layers on, I shiver and my feet actually hurt from the cold.
- To me, turning on the computer has now become a way to check email and heat the room.
- I am afraid to take a shower because I know it will be painful to get out.


Do something about this? We've tried. My housemates and I have called campus maintenance and had them come "fix" the heat about 7 times this winter. They tend to show up, wake everyone up, and leave abruptly without giving us a report.

Today I tested the temperature in my bedroom with my handy dandy thermometer, and saw that it was about 55. I closed my door and turned my hair dryer on, and about 40 minutes later the temperature was 65 degrees. I heard a knock on my door, so I turned off the hair dryer and said "Come in."

It was my roommate from across the hall, who recently watched An Inconvenient Truth. A few days ago, she presented me with a list of tips on how to curb global warming. She saw the hair dryer in my hand and frowned disapprovingly. "TAB, do you know how much energy you're wasting by heating the room with that thing?"

I glared at her, shocked and defensive. "Excuse me? Have you noticed how cold it is in our house?"

"Well yeah, but that takes up a lot of energy. That's not a good idea." She crossed her arms.

"I don't see what the problem is," I said, confused that she didn't understand. "If our heat was working properly, we'd be using more energy than I'm using by turning on my hair dryer."

She continued to disapprove, but I eventually shook my head at her long enough to convince her to leave. On my way out later on, I poked my head in the kitchen to see her standing next to the open oven, which she was using to heat the room.

I gasped (Jokingly. Nothing actually surprises me). "What happened to 'You're wasting energy?'"

"Whatever," she said in the voice of a 12-year-old.

... And now I know I can use my hair dryer whenever the hell I please.

I hate being 'it' in Tag

Okay guys, I'm drunk, I'm vulnerable, Chicago lost the Superbowl... let's do a post to reveal my crazy secrets...

1. Each player of this game starts with the “6 weird things about you”.

2. People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own 6 weird things as well as state this rule clearly.

3. At the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don’t forget to leave a comment that says “you are tagged” in their comments and tell them to read your blog.

Weird thing #1:
All the guys I am attracted to are less into sex than I am. Great.

Weird thing #2:
I used to be neat freak, and even though I still feel like a neat freak at heart, I am pretty messy most of the time. (although maybe by "pretty messy," I mean not OCD... hmm)

Weird thing #3:
People think that I'm bitchy or rude because of the way I act, which they describe as "confident," whereas I am often extremely self-conscious. So... I accidentally come off as a bitch (hence my blog title)

Weird thing #4:
I hated (American) football until I learned about it this January. Now I love it. Call me a hypocrite, or just accept me as cool because now I'm one of the elite class of women who's into football.

Weird thing #5:
Much as I hate the gender stereotypes, I have to know that the relationship is "going somewhere" before I let a man touch me below the belt. Even though I feel like a prude for doing so. And am really really horny.

Weird thing #6:
Often, I think I'm more popular on my blog than I am in real life. I know that may sound sad, but in some ways it's very rewarding: I am a writer, and y'all don't know me, so it's even more of a compliment that you stick around. Sometimes when I feel like no one likes me, I remember how rewarding my blog is and it makes me feel better. Um... wow lame... forget that one.

Yeah I'm really drunk. Really. Mmmm... vanilla vodka. Who wants to make out?

The 6 I'll tag are the top 6 commenters on my last post (good job, guys!!):
1. Wanderlusting
2. GrewUpRural
3. The Ambiguous Blob
4. S (aka dropout)
5. Strange bird
6. monicker

Hah! That'll teach you not to comment first anytime soon!

OI? Oy...

At my internship this week, me and the other intern are covering for our boss, who's on vacation. I could basically do his job in my sleep, since all he does is set up appointments for his boss and answer the phone. The fact that he's my boss bothers me a little bit, just because... that's the easiest job ever. And he gets two assistants?

Anyway, since me and OI (other intern) are covering for him on alternate days, it can get kind of confusing to arrive at his desk and find a whole bunch of half-completed tasks. However, I dealt with it like a pro on Tuesday. OI, on the other hand, woke me up on Wednesday to ask me a shitload of questions.

"What's this CD on the desk that says '[whatever it said]'?"

"Uh... I have no idea. It was there when I came in yesterday. No one gave it to me."

"Why is there a problem with the computer?"

"I have no idea, there should be someone coming to fix it today."

"Well, what did you do to it?"

"Um, nothing?"

"What did [boss] say about the scheduling thing?"

"Oh, you didn't talk to him about that? Hmm. I didn't ask him."

She basically said a bunch of crap that made it sound as though I had left her with a crazy situation, when really she's just being inept.

So today when I arrive at the office, there's a PAGE LONG typed note for me. Fine. So I give her a call to ask what happened with the computer because it's not fixed and her note wrongly suggests that it is... She rushes off the phone for class, and then calls me a few hours later to check up.

"So have you talked to [boss] yet today?"

"No, he hasn't called."

"Yeah, he didn't call me at all yesterday. He doesn't pick up his phone and he's not listening to the messages I left him." It sounded like she was offended by this.

"Yeah, it's almost like he's on vacation or something!" I laughed, because... he is.

"Oh, well actually he is on vacation."

I had no idea how to respond to this. Obviously I was making a joke; I mean... He's on vacation. How could that have been confusing?

After an awkward silence on my part and a confused pause on hers, I just said "I know."

"Oh." She sounded annoyed. "It's hard to tell when you're being sarcastic."

... Great. Now I can't even make jokes.