Friday, September 24, 2010


Short update, since I'm frustrated and tired and don't want to accidentally start venting.

Date with the Philanthropist was really quite fun, but we had a nice talk at the end of the evening and agreed that neither of us was feeling any romantic spark. No disappointment or surprise there. Kind of a relief, actually, since it made me feel better about being so excited about the Musician (from last weekend). But since he was my first real "hey I met you online" date that had progressed to the second date, I was like, "Progress!"

On the job front, things are less exciting. I got called into work on my work-from-home day yesterday. Turned out to be a company-wide meeting to discuss how we are much deeper in the shitter for this fiscal quarter than anyone anticipated. Long story short, two people are getting laid off (NOT ME, THANK GOD) and the rest of us have been furloughed on pay for the next two weeks. At least.

Frick frick frick frick frick. Having a regular paycheck these past two months has been really nice. I've done things like paid off credit cards and put down payments on my student loans. I haven't done things like ... put money into my savings account. I've mostly just been playing catch-up from my months of unemployment.

I spent the rest of the day at work browsing Craigslist and updating my resume. Frick.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010


I'm going clubbing tonight. I have never been clubbing.

And the place I'm going to be clubbing for the first time?

Why, the same lounge where the monthly Suspension parties are held, of course.

Why am I going clubbing for the first time at the same place where I have been and will continue to be a crazy freakshow pervert for my own delight and pleasure, of which the Philanthropist has no knowledge?

I offered.

It's the second date with the Philanthropist. It was my turn to pick what we did. I asked him what music he liked, thinking "classic rock, right, I'll go some place with a great jukebox." He does indeed like classic rock, but he apparently also likes electronica. So I offered a couple of options, since I hate making final decisions in anything other than my professional life. #1: Go to my favorite Lower East Side dive bar with an awesome jukebox, play skeeball and Big Buck Hunter, enjoy cheap beer, and actually be able to have a conversation. #2: Go to the Delancey for their electronica party (it was the only place I could think of, okay) and accompanying burlesque show.

I never in a million years thought he'd pick #2, especially since in my description I said, "Option #1 affords the opportunity to have a conversation, whereas option #2 affords the opportunity to witness my awkward dance skills." Isn't that a red flag of "I AM OFFERING THIS TO BE NICE, PLEASE PICK #1." Also maybe his choice is a red flag of "I don't really want to have a conversation with you." Ugh ugh ugh face in palm.

Oh, yeah, did I mention there'll be burlesque?

I think I'm even acquainted with a couple of the girls in this troupe.

Why do I do this to myself. I am such an idiot.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Being a dick does not get you dates. Until it does.

So I met this guy who just moved to the neighborhood, and fuckin' A. I can't stop grinning something fierce.

Here's the thing I hate about dating: it makes me feel boring. I'm not a boring person. I do exciting shit all the time; unfortunately, half this exciting shit is not first-date-appropriate (politics for starters, my crazy/freaking-me-out-a-little family for middlers, and the BDSM/kink/fetish/sick fuck nonsense for THE END OF THE FUCKING DATE IMMEDIATELY). I make really immature jokes and then laugh at them. My friends and I are obscene. I love my job but my job is not my life and I don't want to sit there and talk about work work work work with some be-suited Manhattan asshole (actually if he's wearing the suit that's totally awesome; I have a sick kink for business suits).

I like talking about writing but the unfortunate thing about being a professional writer is that everybody thinks they can write and I have zero tolerance for listening to someone rabbit on about their bullshit idea for a screenplay unless they are also a professional writer/studied it in college/sold a script for a million dollars/whatever. It feels disrespectful to the sheer amount of time and effort and money and tears and studying and writing writing writing I've done in my life to compare my career as a screenwriter to your aspirations. This is not something I'm going to change my mind about. This makes me an obnoxious dick.

I've been told that I'm intimidating. Sorry? I don't know what to do about that. If you're intimidated by me, I really don't know why. I'm not mean and I won't fuck your shit up just for the hell of it. I won't even fuck your shit up for a reason -- see previous post where I attempted to be nice to a fucking intolerant asshole because I hate being rude. I guess there are elements of my personality that are kind of obnoxious -- my roommate points to my tendency to go from reckless enthusiasm to near-fatalistic cynicism in 4.7 seconds; he says it gives him conversational whiplash. I think it's funny but my sense of humor is weird. Maybe my sense of humor makes me obnoxious; I could just be a dickhead dude-bro in a lady-suit. Straight men -- adult men -- probably don't want to date a dude-bro in a lady-suit.

So I turn it off on a date. I turn off the things that I feel make me interesting or give me any kind of personality whatsoever. (Great. My personality is undateable.) I'm faultlessly polite and I never make a dick joke and I don't even talk about what books I'm reading because one of them is The Ethical Slut and that is one title that when dropped into a conversation will cause the universe to spontaneously make that needle-scratching-on-a-record noise that no one under the age of 40 save vinyl-listening hipsters has ever actually heard in person. So dating makes me feel stifled, and boring, and a little dishonest because what is this be-suited Manhattan asshole going to do when he discovers the dude-bro inside the lady-suit?

But yeah, so I've been cranky about that lately (two stupid-awful dates in a row will do that, I guess). And then last night, a new neighbor who I met a few weeks ago at a Writers Guild lecture texted me to see if we could hang out kinda late. I was more than happy to meet up and I'd poured myself a whiskey-on-the-rocks upon getting home from the aforementioned stupid-awful date (yes, I'm an angry drinker) so I was feeling a little bit of that recklessness.

I wasn't thinking of it as a date. I was thinking, "sweet, new friend!" So I didn't really, you know, dial it down.

And I had a blast. He had a blast. We met up at 11pm and closed out Beauty Bar because we talked for five hours. He walked me home and yeah, there were make-outs and damn he's a good kisser. He texted me at 11 this morning to complain about the slow-ass hipsters making his sandwich at Little Skips -- something we'd joked about the night before. And he told me he couldn't wait to see me again -- that he was tempted to ask me out to dinner today even though he knew he was supposed to feign disinterest. I'm a little freaked out by how much I enjoyed myself, and how much he seems to enjoy me. And it all seems totally honest.

Apparently my personality isn't as poisonous as I'd thought. Sweet. There's a lesson to be learned here.

Pull the rip cord.

Dear Lazyweb (tm Doctor Memory);

What are your best ways to end a date early? I've had two dates recently that have been so excruciatingly awful that I had to awkwardly cut them short. (I've taken to heart what Pink Sweater Girl said to DateMeDC on her bad date: "Your time is precious and you deserve not to waste it." Why endure unnecessary awfulness? Why make him waste his time too? [Also, I love that girl's blog. She does date-blogging right.]) The first guy was quite nice and I had a good time exchanging e-mails with him before meeting, but unfortunately his written vocabulary was about 10,000 words larger than his spoken one. Language barrier ... insurmountable. The second guy does not bear thinking about. (Short version: extremely insensitive-bordering-on-intentionally-rude to a transgendered woman. IT'S 2010, ASSHOLE.)

I got out of the date with the first guy by pleading exhaustion. The date with the second guy, I was actually in genuine pain from a terrible sunburn I got on my chest while in Tampa, so that wasn't so much a fake excuse as a convenient reason to GTFO. 

So what are good ways to end a date without being unnecessarily rude? I don't want to hurt a guy's feelings (though Intolerant Jerkface probably warranted it) and I don't want to come off like a douche-bag (though I am). 

Either way, I'm so happy I ended both dates early, because rather than coming home late, grumpy and annoyed at my time being wasted, I salvaged both evenings and had a good time. (Great time, last night. I'm actually kind of giddy just thinking about it and have to keep pulling back the reins on my excitement. More on that later.)

Any advice, Lazyweb?

Saturday, September 18, 2010

"This is going in a script, isn't it."

It is both a blessing and a curse to date a writer. Among the many blessings (and oh, there are many), you get an intelligent, perceptive, quick-witted partner with a boundless imagination and a remarkable way with words. And if you inspire her, she will be grateful to you forever. Unfortunately, you may not inspire her in quite the way you want.

I've done my time as a reporter, and had more than one source ask me, "Can this be off the record?" Similarly, I've had boyfriends and girlfriends who have asked me not to write about them, or about our relationship, or even about every-day things that happen in our lives.

You're asking a writer not to mine her daily life for material? Are you out of your mind?

That being said, I try to respect the wishes of those closest to me when it comes to sharing intimate details about my life or our lives. Identifying information will, whenever possible, be scrubbed out. Emotion-filled screeds will not be the order of the day here. I always respect that the people I'm dating are, you know, people, and no one likes to find that they've been written about on the internets. I'll do my best. Using material from life for a screenplay is a very different story than using it as inspiration for a blog. I'll try not to trip over myself too often.

Adventures to follow.