About Feelings… [Relationships]

As I’ve said in a post forever ago, I am attempting to date more. I have recently discovered that I’m emotionally retarded (before anyone jumps on my about my use of “retarded” look it up, there are actual definitions for this word.)

I met this guy through OKC and on Friday went on my second and a half date. First date was coffee meet and greet, so I don’t know if you can necessarily count that as a full “date.” He’s nice, a bit quiet, and rather nerdy. Not bad, yeah?

The first official date was at a bar that had a name I believe should be attached to a strip club, but I guess the bar got to it first. It was a small place off in a not so savory part of town made up of craft beers that change regularly. We chatted about television mostly, Jurassic Park, Game of Thrones (DON’T SPOIL ANYTHING I HAVEN’T SEEN THE NEW SEASON!), etc. We talked about work and types of beers we enjoy. We mentioned things we would like to do such as travel (where we’ve been/where we’d like to go). All in all not bad. One thing though, he kept trying to convince me to go back to his place to watch GoT, which is a silly way to get me to spend the night seeing as if I’m watching GoT I AM WATCHING GoT! It demands all my attention.

Second date we went to a bar that was lacking on the beer selection, but showed Labyrinth therefore I approved. Once again the conversation generally stayed the same. I sprinkled in some more information about myself, and allowed him to carry the conversation as well (spoiler: he didn’t). After that we went bowling (where I sucked), but it was so much fun (seriously, how could you not have fun during disco bowling?)

On our way home where I had chosen to walk he led us in the wrong direction and ended up having to take a cab. While waiting, he awkwardly placed his arm around me for a moment before pulling it back. Then attempted to get me back to his place with promises of GoT.

Once I got home, buzzed from cheap beer and tired from work and bowling, I stumbled into bed. Unable to sleep, I reflected. Being a dating novice I wasn’t entirely sure what I should be feeling. Does the spark come naturally over time, or is it an instant “oh my god you’re so awesome!” I spoke to my roommate and my friends about this days before between date one and two, looking for some sort of sage advice.

They had none.

So, as I drifted in my haze of alcohol I thought about what I liked about him. Could I see myself continue dating this man? Has he done things I disliked? I like his geeky nature and interest in travel, but I disliked his meek demeanor and him tugging on a waitress’ sleeve to get her attention. But what solidified my decision, my feelings, was that I don’t remember what his face looks like.

I realized I couldn’t pick him out of a crowd.

The question now is, how do I deal with this information and relay it to him without being a bitch?

Relationships man…

Another Relationship Post

You’re probably wondering why I’m once again writing about the journey that is love. It’s because it keeps coming up in everyday conversation. That and work, but seeing as work is dependent on whether or not I’m hired for a task (I’ve been hired to wait in line at a restaurant again for the 8th time), and everything between involves writing or the latest episode of Blacklist.

Last night I grabbed a drink or three with a friend. Our conversation, though varied, kept returning to our relationships- or lack thereof. It began with her telling me about her going to ‘hang out’ with her ‘friend’ Eli. I’ve never met Eli, nor do I have a desire to. There was a short period where my friend considered a relationship with him, but he said he ‘doesn’t do monogamy’. So they faded from each other’s lives.

Then he returned. He claimed to have changed, and wanted to start a monogamous relationship with my darling friend. Unfortunately for him, she was dating a few other people. Eli, upset, faded once more. Later he sent her flowers as an apology. How sweet.

To make a long story short, she told him about her dating other people (still) and he called her a slut. A fucking whore. Told her he was already screwing some other chick while they were talking anyway.

Like I said, I don’t want to meet him.

Then she started seeing him again. Chatting and texting. Snapchat and Google Hangout. I told her what I thought, but she brushed it aside.

As the night continues, we start chatting about her past relationships. What did I say about my love life? Nothing. It came up once or twice then turned back around to her. It’s ok though, it’s not like I had much to report.

She told me about her first, the Asshole Oliver. Emotionally abusive. A user. All around dick. When they broke up (then got back together only to break up again), it was like the heavens opened up. My friend Sarah (mentioned in my NC post) and I celebrated!

Then came Alec. Her eventual fiancé, and current ex-finace. In the end he accused her of cheating, forced her to sleep in a closet until she was finally able to move out. Two years later, she still checks his Facebook and asks about him to mutual friends -but she’s ‘totally over him’.

Many of my friends are in successful committed relationships. They’re talking about moving in together, taking the next step. They discuss the possibility of marriage and children. They talk about the separation of closet space, which slowly devolves into “that’s so not fair! I have more clothes than you!”

Meanwhile, I make no effort to find love, and my friend continues to follow a pattern. I suppose the question is what did the successful friends do right that my Thursday night drinking buddy is doing wrong? How does she find the men that treat her like crap? The main difference is that she finds them through the internet as opposed to my successful friends who met them out in the world. But people meet awful jerks no matter where they go. So where do they come from? How do they find her?

I always wondered how abusers manage to find women (and men, I’m sure) who are easily controlled. Who make excuses for their significant others? Are they trained during the relationship? Groomed? Do they exude a sense of low self worth that assholes pick up on? Or do the abused seek them out subconsciously? It’s a mystery to me that I should research, as Google is at my fingertips.

I suppose after the loss of Ceci, I’m much more worried than I was when she first dated these men. It’s always something you think only happens on Law and Order. To other people that you’ll never meet. Not to my friends. Not to me.

Anyway, my rambling should come to an end. I’ll return to my relationship with a box of wine* and my need-to-be-rewritten novel.

*no I’m not actually drinking wine at 11:32 in the morning.

In Memory of… (Domestic violence)

This past October, the world lost a very bright light to domestic violence. In honor of the wonderful Ceci Lam and in order to raise funds for the SF Domestic Violence Consortium, my friend John is organizing a Crab Brunch Fundraiser on February 14th at Victory Hall in SoMa.

We will eat, drink, and be merry as Ceci would have had it. While celebrating Ceci, we will also be supporting an organization dedicated to providing shelter, legal services, and counseling to victims of abusive relationships.

To join us, we ask a minimum donation of $50 a seat which you can do here -> https://donatenow.networkforgood.org/1388094

For more information about the brunch, head here ->https://www.facebook.com/events/426668800819654/?pnref=story

To read what happened to Ceci as told by our alma mater, go here ->
http://goldengatexpress.org/20…/…/22/cecilia-lam-remembered/

We hope to see you there! If not, please consider making a contribution to SF DVC.

The brunch is in San Francisco. If you are not able to make it or are just plain not in this vicinity, please consider donating. Below is a list of resources for those who need help (men and women). Please don’t be afraid to reach out for help.

http://www.feminist.org/911/crisis.html

http://www.dahmw.org/

http://www.helpguide.org/articles/abuse/help-for-abused-men.htm

http://www.thehotline.org/help/

Why I’m Single (According to Everyone Else)

I’m back on OKCupid because I promised to push myself to do things I am generally uncomfortable with. When it comes to online dating, I have an issue with keeping up with conversations. I rarely check my OKC app or check my profile online. I’ve started checking it once a day, but I’m sure any OKCer will tell you that isn’t enough. I don’t like handing out my phone number to some random, though I’ve only ever had one issue arise from doing so. This isn’t to say I haven’t gone out with a few people that never blossomed into anything more.

There is a part of me that has been influenced by the Romance genre of falling into the arms of a man and then being swept away in a whirlwind of ridiculous drama that could be solved through proper communication. While envisioning this fairy tale, I also see myself as an independent woman with strong morals, work ethic, and strength (read: strong independent black woman who don’t need no man -yes I said black. I know I’m not. It’s a silly saying, get over it). According to my wonderful friends, family, and [former] coworkers this is why I find myself single.

Why I’m single, explained.

1. Do you even lift, Bro?

My last restaurant job -and as all restaurants do- it was required to do some heavy lifting. Though I never tossed a keg onto my shoulders or carried five boxes of wine into the shed, I did lift large containers of tea, heavy wooden benches, tables, etc. Things that, quite frankly, an adult -even teens- could carry. Yet, when I would do these things a coworker of mine would ask me why I’m doing it when we have a man on staff. One man on a day of five women. Why wouldn’t I do something that I’m perfectly capable of doing?

Because women should use men.

I was told that men are lazy, without “heavy lifting” (seriously these things did NOT weigh that much) they won’t want me. Why would you date someone who can do all the “manly” things?

Solution: Stop lifting things. STOP IT! I don’t know the weight limit for women, but I’m going to assume that if I feel any strain on my muscles, it’s too much.

2. I’m a whale!

As many women (maybe even men, but I’m not too familiar with male body issues), I have struggled with my weight here and there. That’s not to say I don’t love myself, after all I’m awesome :D! Around my second year of college I stopped eating with the exception of toast here, a cracker there. That was less about my losing weight, and more about my spiral into depression. I still look back on those photos and think “damn I wish I were still that thin, but without the sadness and pale complexion, and with food.”

Beyond that I’ve become more comfortable with my weight. I still think about dropping a few pounds, and God knows my hips don’t lie. When working at the sushi restaurant every busser has told me that I was (am?) fat. That I shouldn’t eat that because (insert stomach poke) I’m getting fat. “No dressing!” “No rice!” “No alcohol!” “Nothing fried, ever!”

“No food, for you!”

Solution: Salads! Half salad, dressing on the side. What kind of dressing is it? Nevermind, no dressing. No cheese, no croutons, no eggs, oh is there bacon? No bacon. Nuts? Hmm.. I shouldn’t. Oh, just a glass of water. Check, please! Thank you.

3. Women aren’t funny

I don’t claim to be funny. OK, I like to tell people I’m “fucking hilarious”. Whether that’s true or not is up to them. But funny women are unicorns. Seriously, ask around. Lots of people believe that. There’s a documentary about it, but I don’t recommend it. It’s not very good. Such potential, but fell so short.

Regardless of that, being funny isn’t attractive in a woman. The man should be funny, and the woman should giggle. “Oh you, you’re so silly.” Making jokes in person and online generally causes a fade out.

Solution: Be bland. All stories should be entertaining, but nothing beyond that. If you get anything more than a “heh” from your date, you’re doing it wrong.

4. Damn, Boy, you fine

Personalities are overrated. Who cares if your date spends his days playing video games, yelling at 12 year olds about fucking their mother? Who cares if he kicks his dog and browses pick up artist websites? Because personalities don’t matter. Getting to know someone is for after the relationship. If there’s a problem, no worries, he’s hot! Sexy boyfriend beats your sweet, caring boyfriend any day of the week.

Oh he doesn’t have any ambitions, a job, or hobbies? It’s cool, a two-dimensional boyfriend only needs a good looking face and some damn fine washboard abs.

I don’t understand why I’m criticized for looking for a guy with more of a personality than a cardboard box. Yet, here it is, number four on my list of fuck ups.

Solution: Stop reading OKC profiles. Seriously, what’s the point? If he’s got shining eyes, a sparkling smile, and a beautiful face, why not date him? Nevermind the opening message: “I’m going to fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk for a week.” Oh baby, do me now.

5. Matron Saint of Prudes

My boobs are very comfortable behind my shirt. I wear tank tops and v-necks. I wear dresses and shorts on occasion. Why are you telling me I need to show more skin? How much skin are we talking here? I don’t walk around in yoga pants often, and when I do it’s on my way to the gym/hike/run/etc.

I wear heels when I feel like it. I show off my toes in my wedge sandals, little piggies wiggling free for the world to see. What more do you want to see? Shorter skirts? Tube tops? Belly shirts?

Solution: SLUT UP! Yeah! Skimpy, skimpy, skimpy. Not prudey, prudey, prudey!

6. Slut!

Contrary to the last point, I have also been told I need to cover up. My shorts are too short. My tank tops show off my arms too much. My pants are too tight. I’m starting to think I can’t win. Maybe it’s a reaction to the last point. As I stated above people think I’m a chub, so perhaps when they said “less fabric” they saw my fatass and regretted their suggestion.

Solution: I think the only solution is to have the best of both worlds. So I’m going to invest in some convertible cargo pants. The ones with the zippers. Sexy time, here I come.

7. That is so homosexual

Many of my wonderful friends are gay. I don’t know why this matters at all when it comes to my love life. In fact, my gay friends are my biggest support in meeting men. Yet, my biggest critics believe that because I have so many friends who like the same sex, I will become gay myself. The Gay Plague! Living in San Francisco doesn’t help my case either. “No straight men in San Francisco. Might as well live in Palm Springs.”

Solution: Live in a plastic, gay-free bubble. Like Bubble Boy. Beware the Gay Plague!

8. Geekeroni

I love Doctor Who, and Sherlock Holmes, and Game of Thrones, and Batman, and… and… and… As I type this post, I’m watching Arrow on Netflix. I can’t decide if I like it or not, but I needed a new show while everything is still on winter hiatus. A while ago I bought myself a pair of Who Shoes and a Batman sweater. I’ve been looking for something Game of Thrones-y, but for now I have the box set of the books.

I love chatting about Walking Dead, the new Star Wars, and Top Gear (I wonder if this one counts as “geek”). But it’s a turn off. Geeking out will land you with a sad, chubby, smelly, mouth breathing, WoW addict who only cares about chips and Magic: The Gathering. You’ll end up in some kind of weird My Little Pony/Anime Lolita fetish based relationship. OK, maybe these examples are a bit more extreme, but the statement stands. It’s what my acquaintances have told me. I can’t like these things any longer.

Solution: Give up the things I like. Start watching…um.. Girls?

—

I can’t think of any more, but I’m sure they’re out there. So it’s time for me to put these solutions into action and land the man of my dreams. How to find a boyfriend? Change everything about myself, until I’m unrecognizable. So long self, I hardly knew ye.

Or.. you know…

Shut up.

Food for the Family That Wants it All

Every year Dad orders food from an outside source. A few years ago we would pick up the full, pre-cooked meal from a nearby restaurant called Mimi’s Cafe. Eventually, it wasn’t enough– not the food, but the quality.

For our main event this year, Dad ordered BBQ from Kansas City. But, that’s not all! He also ordered beef AND turkey. I don’t know if he asked my brother Andrew and Mom, and they couldn’t decide between proteins, or if Dad just wanted lots of meat.

The issue with my family dinners– aside from deciding between bird or cow– is the distinct lack of vegetables. Last year there was only enough lettuce for one measly salad that Mom took for herself. (Is it a salad if it’s just lettuce and dressing?) Come Christmas, she made me canned green beans heated up in a microwave. The problem? That can has been with us since my birth.

Where this aversion to veggies came from, I may never know.

All special occasions comes as a coursed meal. Mom will begin the feast by asking Dad to open a bottle of wine, which will be mostly poured into her glass. Then, as she sips on her second helping, Mom will make appetizers. Shrimp cocktail, TGI Fridays frozen artichoke dip and French bread, cheese and crackers, mozzarella sticks, and as a new addition a dim sum platter.

Bellies full of goodies, the main course is revealed. Beef and turkey. Beans and lettuce salad. Mashed potatoes and gravy. I read somewhere that stomach can burst open from eating too much, luckily I haven’t experienced it (yet?).

During the meal, I will be asked “What are you going to do with your life?” “Why did you quit your job without finding another one first?” “Are you really going to New York?” “What are you going to do there? What if something happens to you?” Ending with, “I don’t think you should go.”

An exhausting hour later, Andrew and Dad will wait a few mintues before digging into the pumpkin bread. Heating it up in the microwave, they will spread copious amounts of whipped cream and chow down.

Finally, we will all return to our respective rooms to watch TV, drifting off to sleep with the sounds of trashy reality television dancing in my ears. All in all, a traditional Waldman Thanksgiving.

Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone.