Monday, August 29, 2011

Girls Night Out Meets Boys Night Out

Have you ever had those nights when you just don’t feel like going out, but everybody else does?  

I’ve never really been a big fan of gender-exclusive outings, mostly because I have more fun flirting with guy friends that I know vs. guys I don’t know, but regardless, there I was nudging myself to participate in Girls Night at Pioneer Bar in New York City.

As I dragged my feet up to the door, kicking and screaming for my male companions, I flung myself into the mayhem of an overcrowded bar buzzing with hot guys and well dressed women and immediately regretted my rebellious choice in clothing – jeans and a tee-shirt. Girls Night requires cute shoes, a short dress, tousled hair and fun jewelry.  This was going to be a long night of feeling like a Freshman at Senior Prom, so I ordered myself a beer and parked my bootie on a bench, accepting my fate of wallflowering.  

The obnoxious deafening sound of 100 competing conversations reverberating off of the high ceilings and concrete floors muted when our eyes met.

I rarely find myself attracted or interested in anyone and that night was not the night for romance – I was not prepared to meet the hottest guy in the bar who wanted to talk to me nor did I fathom that anyone would even notice the wallpaper that was I; but our eyes were locked on each other as I painted on my make-up, dabbed on perfume and shaved my legs in my imagination.

Damn it Finney!! You KNOW you always meet cute guys when you look like shit! You should have at least swapped out your lip balm for your lipstick this time.  Fine if you don’t want to get dolled up, but have an emergency kit in your purse... PLEASE!

Thank god I’m an actor. I can just act like I’m looking good. No need to apologize for my disheveled mess as I toss back beers by myself in the corner.  I’m cool. 

He and his group of guy friends were sitting at the table next to me and my group of girlfriends. Oh how cute – girl at Girls Night Out meets boy at Boys Night Out. My friends all had their backs turned to me, talking to whatever peope had their interest, and his buddies were all busy flirting with some gals on their end, so that left just he and I, looking at each other.  

Our conversation continued on through the whole night. The entire world blurred into the background as he and I sat there, crystal clear, having an exciting conversation about our lives, the world, our families... Everything you can think of that was super cool to talk about, we covered it.  

That sparkle in his eyes that told me “Oh my god, I just met someone!” was thrilling. I abandoned my crappy beer and upgraded to cocktails, the embarrassing plain-Jane look I was sporting didn’t seem to bother me anymore, I felt like the most beautiful girl there. His name was Mitch.  (Does that ruin it? The name Mitch doesn’t really send tingles to my toes, but regardless, that was his name.)

After about two hours of this Love-At-First-Sight experience, me meeting his friends, him meeting my friends, our friends meeting each other and etc., he excused himself to the bar and asked what I’d like to drink.  The moment he was gone, Tim, his best friend, pulled me aside.

Theresa, I know this is going to sound weird, we all love you and think you are beautiful, but we are all standing over there totally jealous and pissed off.

 What?

Mitch is engaged, Theresa. In fact, we are all out tonight celebrating his engagement.  And it just pisses us all off that the ONE person in our group who is actually NOT available is the one talking to you. Blow him off and come talk to us!

At this point, I’ve turned a bright shade of red and my acid reflux has already burned a permanent hole in my throat.   It was at that very moment that I realized that Love-At-First-Sight is a load of crizzap. 

He returned with my Jack & Ginger, and the fact that my fury had melted the ice in my cocktail before I even took it from him was his indication that something went awry while he was gone being such a gentlemen at the bar buying me a drink. I wish I could say that I threw both Jack AND Ginger in his face, but I was so paralyzed with anger and embarrassment that all I could do was stand there like a deer in the headlights wondering why my beverage was hot.

My anger causes me to go numb at times and at that moment, when my world spun out of control, you could have hit me over the head with a friggen skillet and I would not have reacted. 

Congratulations

Huh? 

Congratulations on your engagement, Mitch. I’m so happy for you.

He launched into a diatribe of babble but all I could hear was my made up version of his nonsense “I’m an ass hole, I’m a fake, I’m an ass hole, I’m a fake, I’m an ass hole, I’m a fake”. 

My reaction to his excuses that I could not hear thru the angry white noise in my ears was a blank Bambi stare.

Theresa – I swear to GOD I am NOT engaged! Tim said that to you to win you over. He LIED! Dude, Theresa, seriously… Tim’s just pissed off because he wanted you to like HIM. I promise you, Theresa. I promise you... Why would I talk to you all night like that if I were engaged? I’m not engaged. Please believe me.

Bambi may be cute, but Bambi ain’t dumb.

Fine, if you’re not engaged, then meet me outside in 5 minutes. I’m going to get a cab and take you home with me.  

Bambi knows how to call a wolf’s bluff.

I walked outside feeling destroyed, stood on the sidewalk and hailed a cab. I turned around to find him standing on the top step of the bar stoop, unable to put that next foot forward which would prove my fears wrong. Apologies for me and fear for his unhappy future flickered in his eyes. 

And there was my answer.

I climbed into the cab.

7th and Union in Park Slope Please? .... YES that’s Brooklyn! Get over it!

Monday, August 22, 2011

Please Release the Curse


I have said I love you to six people in my lifetime, but I’ve only really been in love once. I’m not proud of that.

I feel that I have taken the word Love in vain too many times and perhaps I jinxed myself in ever truly falling in love again. Since I’m still single, I hypothesize that Aphrodite has cursed me, in punishment of taking the word Love so lightly.

Dear Goddess of Love,

Please release the curse.

I humbly kneel before you, pleading for this spell to vanish. I admit my shortcomings. I fall in love to easily. I am easily wooed. At times I have been a push over and have said those precious words to the wrong people. To the people I did not truly have those feelings for but was hopeful that I eventually would. Or I was afraid to hurt them if I didn’t say it back. Or maybe I was just plain dumb and went along with it. I never thought I’d be the kind of person who took “Love” so carelessly, but I am, Aphrodite, I am... I WAS. I am not that girl anymore and I cross my heart that my past mistakes will never be repeated.

  • Brad: I was 16 years old and he was just playin’ me. I think it was more infatuation and less love, so honestly I don’t think, Aphrodite, that you should be punishing me for this one.  
  • Brain: I said “I love you” too soon in our relationship, and I’m sorry for that. But he never loved me anyways. He told me so when he dumped my ass, don’t you remember? “I never loved you anyways, Theresa. I only said it because you said it to me.” He did a nice job in making me feel worthless, but nevertheless, he had a knack for that. I was an aspiring Broadway actress in New York City, which he didn’t like, and he told me “I hope your dreams quietly die”. Why on earth did I say I loved him?
  • Dominick: he was psycho and that’s my fault for getting involved with someone so cookoo. Who says “I love you” on the first date? Psychos do. There is no reason why I shouldn’t be punished and cursed for this mistake.
  • Brahim: When will I learn that I need to get past the puppy love stage first before tossing around the word “Love”? He, like Dominick, was crazy enough to say he loved me within the first week we were dating, and I was nuts enough to go along with it. He was mysterious and exotic at first, but come on, those warning signs of him being jealous, stubborn, rude and filled with rage were there from the start. I just ignored them because he was hot.
  • Mike: saying “I love you” while not really meaning it, and saying it too soon can lead to disaster and this case proves my point. Once again, this guy, like Dominick and Brahim, pounced on me with those forbidden words the day after we first kissed. I’m not shocked that I’ve been cursed, Aphrodite, because after all, this was the worst kind of love I’ve ever lied about being in. I ignored all the red flags, I jumped into a relationship, I was blind to all of his baggage. Heck I even LIVED with this one. What on earth was I thinking? Yes he was initially my friend, he was romantic and deep, but he also never took me seriously, he was a loser with no money, no steady job, no bank account, no driver’s license, and he was a raging alcoholic who eventually got me robbed. By the time I dumped him, he owed me EIGHT THOUSAND DOLLARS. I relinquish you of your obligation to punish me for this doozie because I have punished myself enough already.
Aph, I’m not saying that I do not deserve a little punishment. But let’s not forget the one beautiful guy I was truly in love with and whom I didn’t take the word Love in vain with.

  • Mark: My first love. Romantic, affectionate, giving, artist who I loved so very much.  I was only 19, and our love may have been immature and carefree, but that was a beautiful time in my life and I will always cherish those memories.
So, Ahpy, please lift this curse and let me find that special person that I know is out there looking for me. If you do me this favor, I promise I will never say I Love You ever again to any guy, ever…unless I’m saying it to the man I know I will marry.

Your humble servant,

Theresa

 P.S. Thank you for letting me have some affection!

Monday, August 15, 2011

Tales of Indecent Exposures

I have had my fair share of strange and surprising penis sightings in my life.

It all started in Italy when I was 21.

Not sure why nasty old Italian men find it necessary to jack-off in broad daylight while actually TRYING to get my attention, but there I was with my long blond hair in the midst of darker skinned foreigners, sticking out like a sore thumb, being the perfect target for every pervert that graced the sidewalks, park benches and bus stops of Florence, Italy.

At first I was appalled by such indecency. Embarrassed, offended, creeped out… but it became less of a shock and more of an expectation during my 3 week vacation that my friends and I actually started to seek these predators out. All we had to do was either listen for a snickering and light slapping sound, or see some rapid arm movement in our periphery and we’d barricade those nasty bastards with cameras in hand, laughing hysterically. Our cackling and pointing at their johnsons flopping about always made them tuck and zip. Guess they didn’t like that.

My conclusion that only disgusting Italian men in Florence wank-off  to unsuspecting American college girls was proven wrong when I  arrived home and was blasted by the same offence here! Right Here, in Orange County, California. In the affluent neighborhood of Villa Park! I was driving out of my parent’s cul-de-sac, stopped at the stop sign, when some guy in a huge truck drove by me,  noticed me, lifted his pelvis high enough for me to see him holding up his frankfurter and screamed “YYYEEEAAHH!” out of his window.

Whaaa??? Oh boy.

I knew my days of tally-whacker watching were not over when I moved to New York City.

I figured this is the city to see some good wedding tackle.


They’ve got a lot of park benches and alleys, the underground subway is probably a magnet for some good joystick handlers, and since the city is a sea of 3 million pedestrians the occasional perv can probably she-bop completely naked and no one would notice. The world was my Oyster!

It’s unfortunate that I did not have my camera with me when I was at the gym that fateful Friday night. The Cardinal rule for one-eyed trouser snake watching is to always be armed with a camera and I failed miserably. To this day I still regret my haste when I over looked the Cannon Power Shot when packing my gym bag.

With the hopes of working off all the Ben and Jerry’s  I had inhaled the night before while wailing on the phone to my Mom about the audacity of my boyfriend Brian to dump me and say he never loved me in the first place, I hauled my fat ass over to the only available treadmill and started to jog.


It was an odd place for a treadmill to be since it was kind of off to the side and in a weird little nook.

I had nothing to entertain myself while jogging, just the view of the sidewalk on the other side of the window.  As I was working out, the image of someone standing outside started to appear. I had to focus my eyes since it was brighter in the gym than it was out there. After a few moments, it was clear that some guy was standing there staring at me. Just standing there, a mere 3 feet away from where I was. The only thing separating him from me was the floor to ceiling window.

I thought, “Seriously? I can't just jog in peace without some ass hole staring at me?” I tried to make very aggressive eye contact with him, like “Dude, GO AWAY”, but I noticed that his eyes were not on me, they were directed upwards. I followed his gaze and realized there was a TV hanging above me. “OH! The game is on. He’s watching the game.”

No.  Not entirely.

There was a strange movement going on at waist level.  I re-focused my eyes and peered. A woman, who seemed like his girlfriend, was standing next to him, shoulder to shoulder but facing the other way (probably to keep a look-out) and multi-tasking with a backwards monkey slap while getting in some one-armed tricep kickbacks for herself.

I felt compelled to continue jogging and watching his baloney pony as it bopped to and fro in her hand, waiting for the “outcome”.

I was horrified and yet intrigued.

"I cannot believe this is happening right in front of my face! Is anyone else noticing this?" I looked left, I looked right. I was all alone in this experience. Just me and the obviously kinky couple standing under their umbrella mere feet away from me.

"This gym is pretty well lit. They obviously know that I'm working out right here. Why did they pick this particular spot right in front of ME? I don't get it!"

But I kept watching.. and watching... becoming more and more nauseated.

I kept telling myself, “Look away! You’re going to see it come out! His heat-seeking love missile is going to launch and you’re going witness it!  Look away, lassie, look away!!”, yet my eyes refused to comply.

Then, POW!  At approximately 30 miles per hour the triumphant moment happened.  Like water in a pressurized hose being released, his home made yogurt burst forth from his glory hole with untamed vigor.

Weird that the couple seemed totally unfazed by it. Just pump pump, spew spew, fold and button, and they were off as if it was a nightly ritual, stepping over the cloudy white puddle on their way to his grandmother’s house probably.

All the blood rushed out of my face
My legs started to give way
My stomach did a triple back flip
I stumbled off the treadmill as the conveyor belt kept turning
I ran to the water fountain
Dry heaved over the little drain while making a spectacle of myself
Sipped some water
Sat down
Then cried like a traumatized four year old girl

Monday, August 8, 2011

Sex and the Eharmony

It’s been one month since joining Eharmony and I’ve weeded through about 600 guys.
Cute guys like this do not exist on Eharmony.

I’m becoming more and more weirded-out by on-line dating and I am curious about some things.

   1. Why do guys not realize that blacking out their friends eyes in their profile photos is just plain creepy?

   2. If you’re not going to look a little deeper and answer the profile questions with some intelligence, why are you paying $50 a month to be on the site?

Example
Question: What are a few things that you cannot survive without?
Answer: Air Water Shelter
Really? Wow guy! We have so much in common. I cannot live without air and water either! Let’s meet for coffee and discuss!

   3. Am I prude to be disinterested in anyone who mentions sex on their profile?

Even mentioning it once is bad enough, but multiple times just horrifies me.
I understand that some guys may have been in sexless marriages and they now think that most women aren’t into it, but when he says that he must be with a partner who likes having sex on a weekly basis, and that he must be with someone who is comfortable exploring his sexuality with compassion and understanding, that just grosses me out.

What exactly do I need to be compassionate and understanding about? I’m picturing him on a sex swing wearing some kind of mask. He’s probably a skirt chaser who can’t take his hand off my ass when we are in public.

All sorts of crude images of us doing weird things pop into my head and I quickly “close” him.

Example
Question: What are a few things that you cannot survive without?
Answer: Great Sex
Delete

In my opinion, mentioning sex on your profile is like talking about your sexuality with a complete stranger in person.

Would a guy really walk up to me at a party and within the first 2 minutes tell me that he must be with a partner who likes having “Great Sex”?  Well, maybe. Recently I met a guy at a bar in New York who told me, after hello, that he has 4 gray pubic hairs.  So, yes, there are guys out there who have no filter, but in any case: Delete.

Am I being too selective?

Perhaps I need to realize that most men are sexually conscious and that maybe I’m reading too far into their innocent comments about needing sex?

I really don’t see the point in choosing “I cannot live with a sexually inactive partner” as a line item on my Can’t Stands list. Eharmony only lets you pick a few Must Haves and Can't Stands, and they give you about 100 items to choose from. I just safely assume that most people do want sex and if I were to fall in love, we would be up all night with our hands all over each other.

In my heart, there are far more important deal breakers than sex, especially since I only get to choose a few from the website's list. So when a guy chooses more than one item referring to sex, I think “Wow, so out of that plethora of core life values and morals to choose from, what you’re telling me is that you are a horn dog.” Is that a safe assumption?

Monday, August 1, 2011

Here Comes the Bride...Oh and There She Goes!

I have often wondered about the significance of marriages and weddings.  There MUST be an answer to this since almost all of my friends are married, so let me ask:
  • Why did you all marry each other?
The reason I ask is because divorce rates are steadily climbing which makes me think that the constitution of marriage isn’t what it used to be and perhaps we are all stuck in this Leave it to Beaver fantasy.  Couples stayed together thru hard times back in the I Love Lucy days because society shunned divorce and maybe people held on to their promises more than they do now. 

Divorce rates are increasing every year. In California alone, 75% of marriages end in divorce, which makes me think that “For Better or For Worse” is more a metaphor and less a real promise. I honestly think that that metaphor sets up unrealistic expectations.

Throughout history, people were wed out of obligations:

  • Religious traditions
  • Bargaining agreements between families
  • Political reasons in royalty
  • Shotguns
On the majority, those obligations do not apply to 2011.

Don’t get me wrong, I applaud quite a few of my friend's divorces because their marriages were cancerous, but let’s cut to the chase:

  • What is the point in getting married when you can just as easily get divorced?

Why not just live together in bliss? I have friends who do that and their relationship has been going strong for 13 years now, they even have a baby together. Isn’t THAT more of a sign of their commitment than a diamond ring and an $800 wedding cake?

People may think that I write these blogs about being single because I want to vent about not being married.  That is pretty far from the truth. I’m just hoping to meet an amazing guy who I won't ever get sick of. Weather we get married or not isn’t the issue for me.

I understand there are legal perks to being married. But you can get hooked up with all that good stuff by eloping or becoming Domestic Partners which is much easier and cheaper.

I honestly think that most people want their 15 minutes of fame, and since that’s pretty difficult to actually achieve, a fantastic wedding that cost’s them half a year’s salary is their pacifier.  Or maybe they just want to live out their wedding day fantasies that they’ve cooked up in their heads since childhood. I dunno! I’m an event planner for a living, and I just don’t see the fascination in planning a huge wedding.

All the stress of:

  • Budgeting 
  • Location scouting
  • Hiring vendors
  • Paying for a dress I’ll never wear again and the guilt of asking half a dozen bridesmaids to do the same thing

Then the stress of the actual day:

  • Getting up at the crack of dawn to start the process of looking absolutely perfect
  • Spending all night talking to every single person 
  • Being so totally exhausted, staving and shitfaced that I can’t even imagine doin’ it with my new husband in our luxury honeymoon suite

 None of that sounds appealing to me. NONE of it.


If I ever get married, I’m going to ask my friends to throw the event for me and I’ll just show up on the day and wear whatever they shove in front of my face. I’m not kidding.

I do want to fall madly in love and spend a wonderful life with one special man who I will have children with. I just don’t see the point in the pomp and circumstance.


Enlighten me...