I'll also share with you my birthday roses:
Thanks Mom and Dad.
Showing posts with label Technology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Technology. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 07, 2011
Someone got a new camera for her birthday
This means I can blog pictorially again when words just won't do or I am short on time, like tonight.
I'll also share with you my birthday roses:
I'll also share with you my birthday roses:
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Last Saturday: Good and Crumby
Last weekend I participated in the mock traveller experience at the soon-to-be-opened new Winnipeg James Armstrong Richardson International Airport Terminal. I thought it might be fun. It was not. Here is why:
After the airport tour I had an appointment with the Genius Bar to get Mac fixed. The inside case had cracked in numerous places and was being held together with clear tape. I mentioned this to a Genius when I was in there one day and he told me that I could get it replaced for free. I like that price, especially when Mac is a ripe four years old, so I went for it.
Mac had to stay overnight (so sad!) but he came back with a new inside and keyboard. This was awesome because I didn't know how I was going to get the toast crumbs out of the keyboard.
- Instructions were explicit about where to park and when to be there, but did not mention that we would be spending time standing in an outdoor parkade. Wearing a skirt and tights with no jacket was a chilly mistake.
- Experience was running behind schedule. I was wave #8 of testers, but they were still trying to get waves 6 and 7 through. The poor volunteers seemed overwhelmed and stressed with no leader in sight to guide them.
- I forgot my camera. The only photo I have of the experience is the one that happened to be snapped behind me by a friend I didn't know was going to be there.--> bottom right!
- Free lunch was promised. I picked mine up upon completion of the tour, handed in my survey and headed back to Truck to go home. I reached over to the passenger seat to gently drop the packaged lunch on it. I missed, it hit the floor and broke open, sending pieces of a veggie delite sandwich and cut veggies everywhere. Boo hoo. (My bad, I know)
After the airport tour I had an appointment with the Genius Bar to get Mac fixed. The inside case had cracked in numerous places and was being held together with clear tape. I mentioned this to a Genius when I was in there one day and he told me that I could get it replaced for free. I like that price, especially when Mac is a ripe four years old, so I went for it.
Mac had to stay overnight (so sad!) but he came back with a new inside and keyboard. This was awesome because I didn't know how I was going to get the toast crumbs out of the keyboard.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Minnie Trip: Entry 1
It’s ten pm*. We are on the bus, just past Grand Forks and due to arrive at the hotel at four am. Just thinking about that makes me cranky so let’s move on. In about an hour we’ll stop in Fargo at a truck stop for a gas and go—the third stop of the evening already. I’m pretty sure there will be free Wi-Fi which will allow me to post this entry.
Amara and I have cracked open a bottle of wine and snacked on cheese and chocolate and have not yet run out of topics of conversation.
Tomorrow the bus will leave at 10 am for the outlet mall. We’ll have about six hours there—not enough for me, but Amara is confident we can do it. I need new runners, a brown skirt and Christmas presents for the family. People would be disappointed if I did not bring home at least one pair of shoes so I am hoping Nine West has something.
We are on the old people bus. Wow. These ladies don’t get out much. They talk like truckers when away from the hubbies.
*It's 11:26. We got off at the trucker stop so the driver could gas up. People were instructed to grab food and go, but most people are pretty leisurely. I anticipate further delays. Boo.
Tuesday, August 03, 2010
Happy Trails
On Friday night after work I pointed Truck in the direction of South to take us across the border into Minnesota where I was to meet my mom and dad. They already secured a spot at Lake Bronson State Park on Thursday--with power, thank heavens, given the heat--and happily awaited my arrival sometime in the early evening.
I was armed with a Garmin GPS device someone had given me. My dad had programmed it for me already and I needed to do was turn it on and say Go! It took me forever to get it turned on--press and hold, hold, hold the button--and even then it didn't seem to work right. First it gave me all the directions from driveway to the perimeter barely before I'd pulled into traffic. Then it didn't seem to know where I was. Oh well, at least I knew where I was going, sort of. I had a vague recollection of my dad saying "straight down highway 59". Eventually I figured out that I hadn't flipped open the receiver piece on the back in order to receive the satellite signals. Stupid technology. Garmin and I were well on our way to a lasting relationship.
I was cruising down the highway with the windows down and the music up when a big dollop of bird poop landed on my windshield. Crap! But I smiled as I thought to myself, bird poop landing on you is supposed to be a lucky thing, so maybe this was a lucky omen of sorts. Later, as I passed the turn off to Steinbach I noticed a DOUBLE rainbow in the sky. Spotting one band of colour in the sky seems lucky enough, but a double one? Divine! Surely if I was to pull off the highway right then and there I would wander into a field of four-leaf clovers and find a unicorn to take me to a magic castle of gold. What a glorious day. What a great start to the August long weekend!
I soon found myself stopped at the end of a line. It took me a moment to realize this was the line for the border because the border crossing was nowhere in site. On the left side of the highway was a sprawling country home. A retriever--type dog came out to the end of its driveway and was wagging its tail at the cars. So cute! I figured I'd have time to take a picture, but first I wanted to take one of this long line I was in. I turned on my camera and pressed the button. The camera beeped at me and turned off. Stupid whiny thing, what do you mean you need new batteries already? You're faking. I tried again. Beep! Shut down. It's sometimes temperamental like that. I tried again and got a picture by accident through my windshield before it really was dead. I don't think it really tells the whole story of the line up, but I will post it here for you anyway:
Can you see a border crossing in there? No? Precisely. This is the crossing at Tolstoi, MB going into Lancaster, MN at 7:00 p.m. Typically this crossing is not very busy at all. Most people cross at Pembina, a 24-hour, 2-4 lane set up, on their way to Grand Forks or Fargo, ND, or Minneapolis, MN. Nobody goes through Tolstoi because there really isn't any shopping on the other side of it, not for many many miles anyway. Just camping and eventually a casino.
So anyway, there I was with my lucky bird crap, a happy dog and a quarter of a venti, iced chai tea latte. I checked out the line forming behind me. The vanity plate on the SUV in my rear view mirror read HLYWOOD. Inside was a big, black football-type dude, a skinny white guy with mirrored aviators, and a young woman, who, when she got out of the vehicle to stretch, looked to me exactly like Nicole Kidman when she did Days of Thunder.
The line moved slowly, which was annoying, but I thought that my destination was within site, just behind a clump of trees. As I inched closer though I saw that I was very mistaken and that the road curved again past the clump of trees and went on further still.
After the first hour I was mildly annoyed and restless. After two hours I was hot and bothered and noticing the mosquitoes. It was nine o'clock and there was probably 16 cars ahead of me yet. The station would close at ten. Things were looking a bit dicey. I looked down and noticed that my Garmin had given up and gone to sleep already.
I got up to the border patrol shortly after 9:30. Two officers had just left to go tell some people that they wouldn't be making it through that night. The mosquitoes were swarming. I reluctantly rolled down the window and handed over my passport.
"Where's home?" the guard asked.
"Winnipeg."
"Where you going?"
"Lake Bronson."
"What kind of food products do you have on board?"
"None," I said.
"No food products at all?" he asked.
"None at all."
"Okay have a nice trip."
I rolled up the window and headed down the highway. It was dusk now. I tried to turn Garmin back on but it wouldn't go. The thing had died on me during the wait. Let's review. It was late and getting dark. I was tired after a long day at work and the 2.5 hours of sitting in a line up. I had only a super big tea latte in my tummy and no rations in the truck. I had no map of any kind with me for my destination, only the directions from my father to "keep on Highway 59" and a fuzzy memory of what the Garmin had drawn out before it unceremoniously died on me. Wait, is that a critter trying to cross the road, OMG IT'S A SKUNK!
I swerved to the right, the skunk scurried left. Imagine if I had hit the thing the stink I would have had to endure? I shuddered.
I kept driving and reached the town of Lancaster in the dark. I asked for directions at the lonely gas station there, thinking there must be some place I need to turn off, some junction I needed to look for. But the man in his overalls eating a slice of pizza just told me to stay on Highway 59 and I'd get there. What I didn't know is that "There" is actually the tiny town of Lake Bronson, and once you get "There" you will then finally see a sign with an arrow pointing left in the direction of the state park. More driving in the dark and feeling lost but I eventually got to the park gates. I drove past the office because A) the signs said the park closes at 10 pm, which was 10 minutes ago, and B) my dad had told me they were camping in the second bay, so I figured I could just look for the second driveway past the office and badda bing I'd be at my destination. No. Sorry. Not like that. I soon found myself at a dead end with an interpretive centre building where I was able to consult this map (I went back to take these pictures in the daylight):
You are Here
And now look way on the other side of the map where the campground is located (I added the directional note for your reference):
The place I needed to go was down the road from a bible camp. You'd think God would have put out a beacon or something to guide his lost flock, but I guess He likes to have his Friday night entertainment too. Anyway, I eventually found my mom and dad, although I didn't want to talk to either of them when I got there. I tried to just crawl into bed, pull the covers over my head and let sleep wash away the who mess, but my mom insisted on getting the story from me, which was essentially, the line up was hecka long, the Garmin died, I had a near run-in with a stinky animal, it was dark, I once was lost and now am found. She failed to see what I was all in a huff about, which is usually how it goes when one gets all up in arms about something and then tries to explain it to someone else who's been relaxing in an air-conditioned motor home for the past 24 hours.
Anyway, I may continue the update tomorrow, but that was the lucky start to my Aug long. After a 2.5 hour wait I didn't get turned away from America, I didn't hit a skunk, I didn't become a highway statistic, and I found my way to my destination without the aid of a map or reliable piece of technology. Never a dull moment around here.
I was armed with a Garmin GPS device someone had given me. My dad had programmed it for me already and I needed to do was turn it on and say Go! It took me forever to get it turned on--press and hold, hold, hold the button--and even then it didn't seem to work right. First it gave me all the directions from driveway to the perimeter barely before I'd pulled into traffic. Then it didn't seem to know where I was. Oh well, at least I knew where I was going, sort of. I had a vague recollection of my dad saying "straight down highway 59". Eventually I figured out that I hadn't flipped open the receiver piece on the back in order to receive the satellite signals. Stupid technology. Garmin and I were well on our way to a lasting relationship.
I was cruising down the highway with the windows down and the music up when a big dollop of bird poop landed on my windshield. Crap! But I smiled as I thought to myself, bird poop landing on you is supposed to be a lucky thing, so maybe this was a lucky omen of sorts. Later, as I passed the turn off to Steinbach I noticed a DOUBLE rainbow in the sky. Spotting one band of colour in the sky seems lucky enough, but a double one? Divine! Surely if I was to pull off the highway right then and there I would wander into a field of four-leaf clovers and find a unicorn to take me to a magic castle of gold. What a glorious day. What a great start to the August long weekend!
I soon found myself stopped at the end of a line. It took me a moment to realize this was the line for the border because the border crossing was nowhere in site. On the left side of the highway was a sprawling country home. A retriever--type dog came out to the end of its driveway and was wagging its tail at the cars. So cute! I figured I'd have time to take a picture, but first I wanted to take one of this long line I was in. I turned on my camera and pressed the button. The camera beeped at me and turned off. Stupid whiny thing, what do you mean you need new batteries already? You're faking. I tried again. Beep! Shut down. It's sometimes temperamental like that. I tried again and got a picture by accident through my windshield before it really was dead. I don't think it really tells the whole story of the line up, but I will post it here for you anyway:
Can you see a border crossing in there? No? Precisely. This is the crossing at Tolstoi, MB going into Lancaster, MN at 7:00 p.m. Typically this crossing is not very busy at all. Most people cross at Pembina, a 24-hour, 2-4 lane set up, on their way to Grand Forks or Fargo, ND, or Minneapolis, MN. Nobody goes through Tolstoi because there really isn't any shopping on the other side of it, not for many many miles anyway. Just camping and eventually a casino.
So anyway, there I was with my lucky bird crap, a happy dog and a quarter of a venti, iced chai tea latte. I checked out the line forming behind me. The vanity plate on the SUV in my rear view mirror read HLYWOOD. Inside was a big, black football-type dude, a skinny white guy with mirrored aviators, and a young woman, who, when she got out of the vehicle to stretch, looked to me exactly like Nicole Kidman when she did Days of Thunder.
The line moved slowly, which was annoying, but I thought that my destination was within site, just behind a clump of trees. As I inched closer though I saw that I was very mistaken and that the road curved again past the clump of trees and went on further still.
After the first hour I was mildly annoyed and restless. After two hours I was hot and bothered and noticing the mosquitoes. It was nine o'clock and there was probably 16 cars ahead of me yet. The station would close at ten. Things were looking a bit dicey. I looked down and noticed that my Garmin had given up and gone to sleep already.
I got up to the border patrol shortly after 9:30. Two officers had just left to go tell some people that they wouldn't be making it through that night. The mosquitoes were swarming. I reluctantly rolled down the window and handed over my passport.
"Where's home?" the guard asked.
"Winnipeg."
"Where you going?"
"Lake Bronson."
"What kind of food products do you have on board?"
"None," I said.
"No food products at all?" he asked.
"None at all."
"Okay have a nice trip."
I rolled up the window and headed down the highway. It was dusk now. I tried to turn Garmin back on but it wouldn't go. The thing had died on me during the wait. Let's review. It was late and getting dark. I was tired after a long day at work and the 2.5 hours of sitting in a line up. I had only a super big tea latte in my tummy and no rations in the truck. I had no map of any kind with me for my destination, only the directions from my father to "keep on Highway 59" and a fuzzy memory of what the Garmin had drawn out before it unceremoniously died on me. Wait, is that a critter trying to cross the road, OMG IT'S A SKUNK!
I swerved to the right, the skunk scurried left. Imagine if I had hit the thing the stink I would have had to endure? I shuddered.
I kept driving and reached the town of Lancaster in the dark. I asked for directions at the lonely gas station there, thinking there must be some place I need to turn off, some junction I needed to look for. But the man in his overalls eating a slice of pizza just told me to stay on Highway 59 and I'd get there. What I didn't know is that "There" is actually the tiny town of Lake Bronson, and once you get "There" you will then finally see a sign with an arrow pointing left in the direction of the state park. More driving in the dark and feeling lost but I eventually got to the park gates. I drove past the office because A) the signs said the park closes at 10 pm, which was 10 minutes ago, and B) my dad had told me they were camping in the second bay, so I figured I could just look for the second driveway past the office and badda bing I'd be at my destination. No. Sorry. Not like that. I soon found myself at a dead end with an interpretive centre building where I was able to consult this map (I went back to take these pictures in the daylight):
You are Here
And now look way on the other side of the map where the campground is located (I added the directional note for your reference):
The place I needed to go was down the road from a bible camp. You'd think God would have put out a beacon or something to guide his lost flock, but I guess He likes to have his Friday night entertainment too. Anyway, I eventually found my mom and dad, although I didn't want to talk to either of them when I got there. I tried to just crawl into bed, pull the covers over my head and let sleep wash away the who mess, but my mom insisted on getting the story from me, which was essentially, the line up was hecka long, the Garmin died, I had a near run-in with a stinky animal, it was dark, I once was lost and now am found. She failed to see what I was all in a huff about, which is usually how it goes when one gets all up in arms about something and then tries to explain it to someone else who's been relaxing in an air-conditioned motor home for the past 24 hours.
Anyway, I may continue the update tomorrow, but that was the lucky start to my Aug long. After a 2.5 hour wait I didn't get turned away from America, I didn't hit a skunk, I didn't become a highway statistic, and I found my way to my destination without the aid of a map or reliable piece of technology. Never a dull moment around here.
Monday, April 26, 2010
The eHarmony Diaries: bonus final chapter
My horoscope for Monday, April 26, 2010
Some resistance or challenge can come in the moment right before a massive and positive breakthrough happens. You're on the verge of a wonderful new chapter. It requires that you seek to find the opportunity in your frustration.
Two Fridays ago I opened up my email and couldn't believe what I was seeing. I blinked. I doubted what I saw and thought of a more reasonable explanation than what it looked like, because what it looked like was that G, the 36-year-old ER doctor was contacting me again.
I opened up the message on the eH site.
Hey Jill,
When I didn't hear from you after our last meeting, I had to assume that it was so disastrous that you decided to move on. No worries about that, but I hope you don't mind this email.
I ended up renting Art & Copy last night and it was way better than Neil Young's Trunk Show. A very interesting, albeit somewhat self-congratulatory, look into the world of advertising with some amazing facts about modern media and how products are sold today. Have you had a chance to see it yet? I think that you'd like it.
Anyway, I just wanted to say "Thanks" for bringing this documentary to my attention as I would likely not have watched it without your suggestion.
Take care.
G
He was shy?
Okay. So silly me, I had let something good go because I had been playing a princess? Gah! Oh well, it still kind of worked in the end, right? I emailed Amara and Lisa to tell them the latest surprise development. "What are you going to say back?" they both asked. I didn't know yet. I took my time to figure it out and then I sent this:
Good to hear from you! I saw Art & Copy too. I went with a friend a couple of weeks ago on a buy-one-get-one-free Wednesday. I really enjoyed it. I'm glad to hear that it's available for rent because I was so busy being in love with the film and trying to absorb every quote about creativity and the creative mind that I hardly remember any of it. Fail Harder. I remember that part. Where did you find it for rent?
It's rather funny, I had a good time with you, but I too assumed when I didn't hear from you after that you had decided there just wasn't a place in your world for a girl with parking anxiety, treadmill trepidations and a penchant for pickles. Assume is a terrible time of waste, isn't it?
Pickles, parking and funny running. There is so much more where that came from. I've got stories. If you want to hear some, let me know.
Jill
And he wrote:
What's the rule about never assuming? Too funny! I've been sitting by my computer waiting for you to send me more tales of interest, when all I had to do was ask ;)
I just hooked up Apple TV yesterday (links your computer to your TV so you can watch downloaded stuff on a bigger screen) and I was surfing iTunes and found it and a few other documentaries. I watched the trailer and figured that I would really enjoy it, so I ended up purchasing it. I haven't figured out how to burn dvds from iTunes movies, but you are more than welcome to watch it here provided you bring your own pens and notepaper.
We traded a few more notes and eventually set up another date. I was to go to his place on the weekend to watch the film. But then he got called into work and had to cancel, so we made new plans to meet in the park for some frisbee on the Sunday afternoon.
I walked to the park and met up with him on the bike path behind the pavilion. I was surprised to see him there on time. We had just turned around to head off and find a patch of grass to play on when we heard a crash. We turned around. A teen on his bike had taken a nasty fall. G ran over to check him out.
I hung back a bit while G did his thing. A crowd had gathered around. I was reminded of my accident last summer outside of The Bay downtown. I could feel this kid's embarrassment at all the attention. I hung back because there was nothing I could really offer. Some people had Kleenex, baby wipes, a nurse who happened to be in the area was helping G clean up the gashes. I felt like a dork though and wondered if G was wondering why I wasn't doing something helpful.
An ambulance came for the kid. Someone had called one because he couldn't get a hold of his parents. G talked to the paramedics and then stood beside me while they loaded the kid up. The day before our plans got canceled because G had to do a transport to Toronto and now this. I thought to myself, so this is what it is like to date Superman.
It took a bit to shake things off once we left the accident scene. "And here I thought I should maybe bring Band-Aids in case of blisters or something," I joked. He laughed and the tension eased. We found a clear patch of grass to toss the frisbee around for a bit. It was fun.
G suggested we take a walk around and I pointed him in the direction of the Conservatory, one of my favourite places to visit. We took a tour around there. I noticed that sometimes he would stand close to me, lean into me. He didn't try to fill the quiet moments like on the last date. Things seemed much more comfortable. I felt comfortable and I was able to relax and just enjoy the day.
We walked around the park some more and eventually found our way to his truck. He opened the door for me and motioned for me to get in. This was nice.
"Nice pen," I said, noticing a blue gel pen in the console with a comfortable looking grip on it. I have a thing for blue pens. I'm always trying to find the perfect one. I tested the ink on the back of a receipt.
"You can have it," he said.
"Really?"
"Yeah, don't say that I never gave you anything," he grinned.
He pulled into my driveway. I undid my seat belt and he leaned forward to give me a hug goodbye. This time he kissed me on the cheek. He didn't say anything about a next time, but with the way the day went and the fact that he added the extra bit of affection into the goodbye suggested to me that we'd see each other again.
I emailed him later just to say thanks and that I had fun, wanting to be certain this time that I was clearly letting him know that I didn't think the date was a disaster. We traded a couple of emails on Monday and Tuesday and he invited me over for dinner and a showing of A&C on Saturday night.
I was pretty excited. Dinner at his place? That seemed like such a big step. I was nervous too though and having flashbacks to my first eH date with A.
I asked G if I could bring dessert. On our first date he mentioned that he loved apple pie. "That would be great if you brought dessert," he wrote. "I don't do kiwi or coconut." I told him I didn't do mushrooms. It was a deal.
I spent Saturday morning making the pie--fresh crust and apples. It baked perfectly. I showered with the good smelling soap I save for occasions when I want to smell extra good. My hair cooperated with me and I put on white pants and a red top.
I got to G's place at 5:45. He showed me around his house. He's been doing a lot of renos himself, which really impressed me. It's not so common anymore for a guy to be handy like that.
G seemed nervous or anxious or overly caffeinated. He paced a lot, something he even apologized for. Things seemed a bit off again, like our second date was. I could understand why he might feel a bit anxious. I always feel like that when I'm cooking for someone new and have invited them into my personal space. When we sat down to eat though things got better and he seemed to relax.
We watched A&C on his projector screen in the basement while eating pie. I commented once in a while on the parts that really resonated with me. We laughed sometimes. There was no touching. It was definitely not like my date with A.
Once the movie ended we gathered up the dishes and headed back upstairs.
"Let's go sit in here for a bit," he said and motioned to the living room. He sat on one couch, I on the other. I noticed a book on his shelf that I had read too. He started saying something about it and then admitted to losing his train of thought.
"We'll talk about something else then and it'll come back to you," I said. I noticed the Dummies books he had and asked him about them. Then I asked him about his Portuguese dictionary.
"Yeah, that thought still hasn't come back," he said after he finished telling me about an experience in Rio. Then he stretched. "I'm starting to flake," he said. "Better call it a night."
It was nine-thirty. He grabbed my pie off of the kitchen counter and handed it to me.
"You can keep it," I said. Truthfully, that had been part of my tactic. I baked it in a glass dish and figured that would mean he'd have to, at some point, wash the thing and give it back to me.
"No, really, I can't," he said.
I really had to pee but suddenly I had this pie in my hands and I was putting on my shoes. I turned around and saw two doors and couldn't remember which one I had come in and which one would be for the garage. I took a shot and picked the right one. He followed me out and walked down the driveway with me to the truck. I opened the door and put the pie on the passenger side. I turned around and he gave me his standard hug. No kiss on the cheek this time and still no mention of a future meeting. I knew this was weird.
I got home and dialed Lisa (after I went pee).
"I'm home and it's only 10 o'clock," I said.
"Maybe he's just really shy or something."
"No, Lis, you know I hate to make excuses like that for guys. It's classic He's Just Not That Into You. It's just weird though. Like, why would you waste my time like that? That's just mean!"
"Well, sleep on it and see what you want to do in the morning," she advised.
When I woke up I knew exactly what I was going to do.
I sent him this note:
Hey G,
Thanks again for having me over for dinner last night and the second showing of A&C. You've done some great work on your house. I think that's really cool that you can do that stuff. If the doctor thing doesn't work out for you maybe you could try general contracting ;)
I know you're going to be pretty busy with your work schedule for the next while, but let me know if you want to get together again and we'll set something up.
Enjoy your Sunday and take care,
Jill
I was easy and breezy. He seemed to respond well whenever I gave him the green light to ask me out so I did that, but I also put the ball firmly back in his court.
He wrote me back on Sunday night.
Hey Jilly-bean :)"...In his profile I got the sense that he wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for and that he was kind of a goof. His pictures, aside from one taken of him at a wedding, were of him making funny faces or doing something goofy. I worried that he was just one of those guys who didn't really take the dating thing seriously, would reel a girl in and then hide behind his humour instead of letting a connection develop. I'd been there, done that, learned the seafood taco joke."
You’re welcome for dinner and the second screening of A&C – it was my pleasure to have you as my guest and that apple pie you made was absolutely delicious!!!. You are also very kind to compliment my renos – flattery will get you everywhere ;)
I feel like I should apologize about the abrupt, unnatural-feeling end to the evening – I felt like I was almost being rude when calling it a night at 9:30 PM. Truth be told, I’ve been feeling a bit overwhelmed by this whole “dating” process and am slowly coming to the realization that I am not emotionally ready to commit to anything more than casual acquaintanceship. Interestingly, I still have much to process before I can move forward on a new romantic endeavor. As such, I am going to continue on my solo path for near future. I hope that you will understand and forgive me.
For the record, I have greatly enjoyed the time we have spent together as you are extremely beautiful, intelligent and interesting. I wish you nothing but the best in your personal, professional and romantic life.
Warmest regards.
G
--Feminist is Not a Dirty Word or a Pick Up Line
I'll give him credit for doing the right thing. Giving me an answer was more than most would do. What pisses me off the most is that I knew. I knew right from the very beginning that there was something to be wary of with him. And yeah, I do still feel grateful for our first two dates, but I can't believe I got sucked in for this ending. I am sorry that someone apparently got to him and has made him unsure about relationships, although truly, I don't believe in the "I'm just not ready/it's not you, it's me," line. I think that is something daters choose to make their perceived reality only because they don't want to admit that they got further into something than they should have. It's what you say when you realize you weren't being honest with yourself, that you ignored your heart or your instinct and you went for something anyway because it was shiny and pretty and new. If you can't be honest with yourself, how can you possibly be honest with another person?
I know he was trying to be gentle, but I find it interesting that he added in the end there that he thought I was extremely beautiful, intelligent and interesting. At one time I think I would have needed to hear that kind of validation from a guy. Today though, I don't really question those qualities in me. I want to be recognized for my beautiful heart, and I think that's one thing that G never saw, and perhaps was never interested in anyway.
I wrote him back. I don't know if he will ever read it and I certainly don't expect anything in return, but I felt that I had to say something, just for myself.
Hey G,
Thanks for the email. It did confirm what I had suspected. While I'm sorry to hear it, you have to do what's right for you.
While I had been disappointed when I didn't hear from you after the second date, I looked at the experience with you as something I was grateful for because you reminded me how much I love to laugh and how important it is to me that I find someone who can laugh with me. I almost emailed you just to say that after the date, but I had made a promise to myself when I joined eHarmony that I was going to play by The Rules. I was not going to chase, sit, and wait or get caught up in games. When something seemed done it was done and I'd move along. Contacting you again would have been breaking that promise to myself and it was important to me that I honoured myself above all else.
I'm not one for flattery but I do believe in sincerity. I only hope that what you've said to me here is sincere. If it is true, I really do hope you take that time to do what you need to do to get yourself ready to put yourself out there again. In the end, I kind of feel like I was just an experiment for you. I guess you did have to test the waters again and fortunately/unfortunately, I was the test. I don't take your decision here personally, but can you honestly and sincerely say you've been honest and sincere? This isn't an attacking question, just food for thought.
G, I don't know much about your dating and relationship history and you know none of mine. I'm sorry that something has affected you to the point where you feel you aren't emotionally ready for more than just making new friends. It would suggest that something pretty painful happened in the past that now has you uncertain or looking in the rearview mirror. I've been there too and I know it takes time to figure out.
Finally, I hope that I didn't make you feel pressured in any way, or that you made any assumptions about my expectations. I love romance, but as I think I said to you before, I am a big believer in the importance of two people being good friends first. And hey, dating is supposed to be fun, not scary and stressful.
I wish all the best for you too. Thanks for not leaving me hanging.
Last night it hurt. Today it hurts a little less. It's not so much about him rejecting me, it's the bigger picture of looking at how many times I've been here before. There is a quote I have posted on my wall at work. I found it when I was looking for inspiration for writing about the theme of Strength for a big project I'm working on. It resonates with me now:
"It takes more courage to reveal insecurities than to hide them, more strength to relate to people than to dominate them, more "manhood" to abide by thought-out principles rather than blind reflex. Toughness is in the soul and spirit, not in muscles and an immature mind."
--Football player Alex Karras
The day before I heard from G out of the blue I had Lisa over for dinner. We watched Vampire Diaries and I was drooling over Damon again. I remember thinking to myself that I was glad I wasn't in a relationship at that moment because I'd had such a busy week. Also, it meant that I was free to day dream about whomever I please instead of having to say, "he's no Ian Somerhalder but I love him anyway." I had shared with Lisa an article I found online that said to find your true love you have to put it out there to the Universe. I clasped my hands together, looked up and said with a giggle, "Damon on a motorcycle!" Lisa did the same and said, "Ryan Reynolds the Rocket Scientist!"
Tomorrow I will go back to dreaming of my tall, dark and handsome brooding man with true toughness, a good heart and a hearty laugh. And if he doesn't exist outside of my TV and daydreaming mind, c'est la vie. My life is no less full or fullfilled. But Universe? Please stop sending me shit.
I've closed comments on this post. While I appreciate your words, if there is something you want to say to me on this one, please just email or Facebook message me.
Sunday, April 04, 2010
Me and G: Part VI The eHarmony Experiement Diaries
This is part six of The eHarmony Experiment Diaries. Thanks for following! Read the previous chapters I, II, III, IV, V.
I met up with A 2.0 at the Forks for coffee. We sat by the river and chatted about dogs, negotiating vacation time from an employer and the common-law act. He seemed like a nice, friendly guy with a good sense of fashion, but there wasn't any spark there. He was about nine years older than me and I think we were in different places in our lives. When we departed he said we'd keep in touch. I never heard anything more from him but that was okay.
I met G at a coffee place downtown. I wore new dark, boot cut khakis, a buttery yellow blouse and a dark denim blazer with kitten heels. My parents had just returned from Vegas and I asked my mom to bring me back a good luck trinket. She found me a ladybug charm on a bathtub chain. I'd tucked it into the left front pocket of my pants. It was warm and springy out. As I walked by the cafe I spotted him inside and we waved to each other like we were old friends.
As soon as I sat down we started joking and laughing. We never stopped. I felt like I was on a radio morning show. There was no dead air, ever. And while his photos on his profile didn't really get me excited, in person I found him quite attractive, probably because I genuinely enjoyed him. We talked travel, family, music, movies, dating, food, aid in Africa, everything. It was this great mix of intellectualism and comedy. At ten when the place was closing up I think we were both disappointed to see the night end. He walked me to my truck. We were still laughing as I told him about my parking anxiety problem that means I always end up taking a spot six blocks away from my destination. He gave me a hug goodnight and said we'd talk again soon. The next day I was grinning and he wrote me at ten am to ask if I'd like to meet up again. I finally got the chance at a second date and I actually was excited to take it!
While I was at the Forks on the Sunday killing some time before I met A 2.0 I'd picked up a flyer for the Cinemateque theatre and noticed a few shows I wanted to see. I suggest to G that we see either Trunk Show, a documentary on Neil Young, or Art & Copy, a doc on advertising. G had said he liked docs and I thought that seeing one would mean great talking points for later. He wrote that we should see the Neil Young show since the Art & Copy show didn't open until April 2. He asked if I was available either that Friday or Sunday. Excited for a reunion much?!
We agreed to meet for the 9:15 show on the Friday night. I usually go to the gym for Zumba at five, followed by Yogalates from six to seven. I planned out on Thursday what I was going to wear on Friday and made sure I had something quick to eat for when I got home. I hurried home from the gym and phoned G to arrange our meeting time. Neither of us were sure how early we needed to show up to get tickets and good seats so we agreed to meet at 8:45, which was when the box office opened.
When I arrived, right on time, I was a bit surprised not to see G there. I sat and waited and then noticed a text on my phone.
"Running a bit late, sorry!" he wrote.
"hah, this gives me time to go and get a closer parking spot!" I replied.
"Yay, everybody wins!"
I flipped through the only piece of reading material near the bench I was sitting on, which happened to be the arts magazine for the Winnipeg Gay and Lesbian community. Neat.
Every time a door opened I turned to see if it was him. At nine he wasn't there. At nine-o-five he wasn't there. Just around 9:10 he arrived.
"I'm so sorry I'm late," he said.
"That's okay," I shrugged. As it turned out, the box office wasn't busy at all, so there was no loss.
"I'm really bad for showing up for things on time," he said.
"Really?" I thought back to our first date where he had arrived first and had enough time to get his coffee before I showed up, right on time.
"Yeah, I was watching the Simpsons, an episode I'd seen like six times before, of course, and then I realized I hadn't gone for a run yet today. So I did that and then I kind of forgot how long it takes to get ready and get down here, so I apologize, I'm really sorry."
"It's okay," I said. And really, I was fine with it. Although it was a bit odd because he'd been off all day, works at the hospital in the area and should have an idea as to how long it would take him to make the drive. But I figured it was just one of those quirky things about him that I might have to learn to work around and laugh about. And hey, we were on our second date! I looked great, he smelled nice and we were going to have a good time.
The film was not so good. If you love Neil Young and enjoy seeing him in concert, you will enjoy this documentary. If you like documentaries that get lots of behind the scenes action and make some kind of statement or leave you with something to ponder, you will not like this film. G and I agreed on not really enjoying it.
After the show we decided to grab a drink at a lounge downtown. It was a quiet and cozy place. We ordered hot chocolate with Bailey's and chocolate liqueur and started chatting.
We were laughing again but there were some stalls. I know I was tired because it was late Friday night after a long week. I tried to talk about this project I was working on at work but it didn't come out right. He told me something that I had no idea how to respond to. Blips. These all seemed like small blips. He asked me if I had any interest in politics or world issues. I had to admit that I didn't. I always feel self conscious about my lack of knowledge on these topics. I feel like I should be able to offer some kind of comment on them but I really don't follow them much in the news.
At the end of the night he again walked me to my truck and gave me a hug goodnight. I got in and felt okay. If our first date had been a 10, this one was maybe a seven or eight. It wasn't as great, but didn't seem like a total fail either.
I realized later when I replayed the evening in my head that this time he hadn't said anything about meeting again. I didn't hear anything from him the next day, or the day after that, or the day after that. I knew what that meant. There would be no part three to me and G.
I know the rules. I know what it means when a guy doesn't call after a date. This time he didn't even feed me the "I'll call" line. His silence made it clear he wasn't interested anymore, or not interested enough (He's Just Not That Into You) and I respect that. I've done my share of listening to my gut and writing matches off. This time I was the one who was weighed and found wanting.
Still, I was sad about that one. I threw punches at myself all weekend for not presenting myself better and messing up what was looking like a good thing. But I slowly came to accept that I couldn't blame myself for this one. If it was right it wouldn't have mattered. G and I would have been able to just keep laughing our way through the night and he wouldn't have cared that I can't talk about the Gaza strip. For all I know he realized he didn't like the creative-type or he had met someone else during the week and my "performance" had nothing to do with the ending. But what still stung the most was the realization that I had finally found someone who I could laugh with who also enjoyed intelligent conversation and now, for whatever reason, he was gone. I had gone through all those matches, met three other guys, talked to one, and I didn't share a laugh with any of them like I did with G. The last time I remember laughing with a guy like that was with Ed when we were just getting to know each other. A match in sense of humour is apparently hard to find and now I have to wait for it to come around again.
Disappointed as I am that G and I weren't a match after all, I am truly grateful that I had an experience with him. If anything, G served to remind me that I am a clown at heart, and I need to find someone who I can laugh with. I never considered this before. I guess I just always assumed that the laughs would come. But now I really want that same magic I felt when I was laughing with G. That was something different.
I'm kind of puzzled by the concept of dating. Sometimes it feels a bit like applying for a job or auditioning for a part. I didn't know that I needed to rehearse for a date, that I should try to think of the questions he might ask so that I could maintain my poise and grace while being tested and evaluated. Do I need to bring references too? There are levels to get through and expectations at each of those levels. People don't go through the same process for new friends. Nobody keeps track of the first time you go to a movie together, the first time you get to see their house or if you even get to see it at all. Friendships simply happen, without the formal stuff, when you find yourself gravitating to someone who is nice or fun. Shouldn't love work like that?
One of the short answer questions I've seen a couple of times on eH is "What are your three best traits you have to offer a partner?" My answer? I think love happens when you find someone who gives you what you need, but those needs are different for everyone. I've known my best friend for almost 10 years and she tells me she likes me because I'm different, kind, thoughtful, supportive and I make her laugh. I imagine some version of this list, plus being able to bake some great cookies would be the reason I'm the right match for a guy.
I am at week eight of my eH experiment. I have five left in my subscription. When I started I said I wanted to just have an experience and date as much as I could. Now, I'm not sure. It would be hard for me to accept a date with a guy now who doesn't have some of JM's heart and G's intelligence and humour. I guess since I have been reminded of what right feels like (and wrong) I have some extra patience to wait it out for Mr. Right to come along.
I don't know if love is really waiting for me on eH, or any online site for that matter. But I'm glad I tried it.
I met up with A 2.0 at the Forks for coffee. We sat by the river and chatted about dogs, negotiating vacation time from an employer and the common-law act. He seemed like a nice, friendly guy with a good sense of fashion, but there wasn't any spark there. He was about nine years older than me and I think we were in different places in our lives. When we departed he said we'd keep in touch. I never heard anything more from him but that was okay.
I met G at a coffee place downtown. I wore new dark, boot cut khakis, a buttery yellow blouse and a dark denim blazer with kitten heels. My parents had just returned from Vegas and I asked my mom to bring me back a good luck trinket. She found me a ladybug charm on a bathtub chain. I'd tucked it into the left front pocket of my pants. It was warm and springy out. As I walked by the cafe I spotted him inside and we waved to each other like we were old friends.
As soon as I sat down we started joking and laughing. We never stopped. I felt like I was on a radio morning show. There was no dead air, ever. And while his photos on his profile didn't really get me excited, in person I found him quite attractive, probably because I genuinely enjoyed him. We talked travel, family, music, movies, dating, food, aid in Africa, everything. It was this great mix of intellectualism and comedy. At ten when the place was closing up I think we were both disappointed to see the night end. He walked me to my truck. We were still laughing as I told him about my parking anxiety problem that means I always end up taking a spot six blocks away from my destination. He gave me a hug goodnight and said we'd talk again soon. The next day I was grinning and he wrote me at ten am to ask if I'd like to meet up again. I finally got the chance at a second date and I actually was excited to take it!
While I was at the Forks on the Sunday killing some time before I met A 2.0 I'd picked up a flyer for the Cinemateque theatre and noticed a few shows I wanted to see. I suggest to G that we see either Trunk Show, a documentary on Neil Young, or Art & Copy, a doc on advertising. G had said he liked docs and I thought that seeing one would mean great talking points for later. He wrote that we should see the Neil Young show since the Art & Copy show didn't open until April 2. He asked if I was available either that Friday or Sunday. Excited for a reunion much?!
We agreed to meet for the 9:15 show on the Friday night. I usually go to the gym for Zumba at five, followed by Yogalates from six to seven. I planned out on Thursday what I was going to wear on Friday and made sure I had something quick to eat for when I got home. I hurried home from the gym and phoned G to arrange our meeting time. Neither of us were sure how early we needed to show up to get tickets and good seats so we agreed to meet at 8:45, which was when the box office opened.
When I arrived, right on time, I was a bit surprised not to see G there. I sat and waited and then noticed a text on my phone.
"Running a bit late, sorry!" he wrote.
"hah, this gives me time to go and get a closer parking spot!" I replied.
"Yay, everybody wins!"
I flipped through the only piece of reading material near the bench I was sitting on, which happened to be the arts magazine for the Winnipeg Gay and Lesbian community. Neat.
Every time a door opened I turned to see if it was him. At nine he wasn't there. At nine-o-five he wasn't there. Just around 9:10 he arrived.
"I'm so sorry I'm late," he said.
"That's okay," I shrugged. As it turned out, the box office wasn't busy at all, so there was no loss.
"I'm really bad for showing up for things on time," he said.
"Really?" I thought back to our first date where he had arrived first and had enough time to get his coffee before I showed up, right on time.
"Yeah, I was watching the Simpsons, an episode I'd seen like six times before, of course, and then I realized I hadn't gone for a run yet today. So I did that and then I kind of forgot how long it takes to get ready and get down here, so I apologize, I'm really sorry."
"It's okay," I said. And really, I was fine with it. Although it was a bit odd because he'd been off all day, works at the hospital in the area and should have an idea as to how long it would take him to make the drive. But I figured it was just one of those quirky things about him that I might have to learn to work around and laugh about. And hey, we were on our second date! I looked great, he smelled nice and we were going to have a good time.
The film was not so good. If you love Neil Young and enjoy seeing him in concert, you will enjoy this documentary. If you like documentaries that get lots of behind the scenes action and make some kind of statement or leave you with something to ponder, you will not like this film. G and I agreed on not really enjoying it.
After the show we decided to grab a drink at a lounge downtown. It was a quiet and cozy place. We ordered hot chocolate with Bailey's and chocolate liqueur and started chatting.
We were laughing again but there were some stalls. I know I was tired because it was late Friday night after a long week. I tried to talk about this project I was working on at work but it didn't come out right. He told me something that I had no idea how to respond to. Blips. These all seemed like small blips. He asked me if I had any interest in politics or world issues. I had to admit that I didn't. I always feel self conscious about my lack of knowledge on these topics. I feel like I should be able to offer some kind of comment on them but I really don't follow them much in the news.
At the end of the night he again walked me to my truck and gave me a hug goodnight. I got in and felt okay. If our first date had been a 10, this one was maybe a seven or eight. It wasn't as great, but didn't seem like a total fail either.
I realized later when I replayed the evening in my head that this time he hadn't said anything about meeting again. I didn't hear anything from him the next day, or the day after that, or the day after that. I knew what that meant. There would be no part three to me and G.
I know the rules. I know what it means when a guy doesn't call after a date. This time he didn't even feed me the "I'll call" line. His silence made it clear he wasn't interested anymore, or not interested enough (He's Just Not That Into You) and I respect that. I've done my share of listening to my gut and writing matches off. This time I was the one who was weighed and found wanting.
Still, I was sad about that one. I threw punches at myself all weekend for not presenting myself better and messing up what was looking like a good thing. But I slowly came to accept that I couldn't blame myself for this one. If it was right it wouldn't have mattered. G and I would have been able to just keep laughing our way through the night and he wouldn't have cared that I can't talk about the Gaza strip. For all I know he realized he didn't like the creative-type or he had met someone else during the week and my "performance" had nothing to do with the ending. But what still stung the most was the realization that I had finally found someone who I could laugh with who also enjoyed intelligent conversation and now, for whatever reason, he was gone. I had gone through all those matches, met three other guys, talked to one, and I didn't share a laugh with any of them like I did with G. The last time I remember laughing with a guy like that was with Ed when we were just getting to know each other. A match in sense of humour is apparently hard to find and now I have to wait for it to come around again.
Disappointed as I am that G and I weren't a match after all, I am truly grateful that I had an experience with him. If anything, G served to remind me that I am a clown at heart, and I need to find someone who I can laugh with. I never considered this before. I guess I just always assumed that the laughs would come. But now I really want that same magic I felt when I was laughing with G. That was something different.
I'm kind of puzzled by the concept of dating. Sometimes it feels a bit like applying for a job or auditioning for a part. I didn't know that I needed to rehearse for a date, that I should try to think of the questions he might ask so that I could maintain my poise and grace while being tested and evaluated. Do I need to bring references too? There are levels to get through and expectations at each of those levels. People don't go through the same process for new friends. Nobody keeps track of the first time you go to a movie together, the first time you get to see their house or if you even get to see it at all. Friendships simply happen, without the formal stuff, when you find yourself gravitating to someone who is nice or fun. Shouldn't love work like that?
One of the short answer questions I've seen a couple of times on eH is "What are your three best traits you have to offer a partner?" My answer? I think love happens when you find someone who gives you what you need, but those needs are different for everyone. I've known my best friend for almost 10 years and she tells me she likes me because I'm different, kind, thoughtful, supportive and I make her laugh. I imagine some version of this list, plus being able to bake some great cookies would be the reason I'm the right match for a guy.
I am at week eight of my eH experiment. I have five left in my subscription. When I started I said I wanted to just have an experience and date as much as I could. Now, I'm not sure. It would be hard for me to accept a date with a guy now who doesn't have some of JM's heart and G's intelligence and humour. I guess since I have been reminded of what right feels like (and wrong) I have some extra patience to wait it out for Mr. Right to come along.
I don't know if love is really waiting for me on eH, or any online site for that matter. But I'm glad I tried it.
Saturday, April 03, 2010
Feminist is not a Dirty word or a Pick Up Line: Part V of The eHarmony Experiement Diaries
This is part five of my latest epic jillstory. For context you may want to read the previous posts: I, II, III, IV.
JM actually gave me a very sweet response that made me feel better. He wrote, "Thank you for your feedback and honesty. I really appreciate it, very much. Your a great person and good head on your shoulders and really interesting to talk to." We added each other as friends on Facebook and have exchanged a few notes. Last I heard he had found another match. I truly wish him all the best and have nothing but respect and admiration for him. He deserves a really great country-loving girl.
In early March I found myself a little full of pinot grigio and checking my matches online. I hadn't had any requests for communications in a while and had been playing a bit of a princess, not wanting to be the one to initiate conversation with a match. But hey, I was paying for this service so I figured I should do my part to get my money's worth. And besides that, my mission was to have an experience, a blog-worthy one, with romance being the second priority. So I responded to a few messages that I had left hanging while I was focused on A and JM. I also initiated conversation with a bunch of guys in my matches list. One guy had asked me why I signed up for eH. In drunken honesty I replied:
A sense of adventure (why not give it a try?), admiration for the Lee and Anne-Marie commercial (their names even rhyme!) and I had a coupon.
Thriftiness is HOT.
There was a match on my list that had initiated communication with me but I had chosen to ignore. He was short, 5'5, which is my height and maybe not the best physical match for a girl who spends five days or more out of the week in heels. In his profile I got the sense that he wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for and that he was kind of a goof. His pictures, aside from one taken of him at a wedding, were of him making funny faces or doing something goofy. I worried that he was just one of those guys who didn't really take the dating thing seriously, would reel a girl in and then hide behind his humour instead of letting a connection develop. I'd been there, done that, learned the seafood taco joke. I wasn't interested in goofy at all. But, in occupation he listed Pediatric Emergency Medicine. I asked my sister, who works at the Children's Hospital if she knew a doctor named G. She did. She said he probably wouldn't know her, but she thought he seemed nice. He also mentioned in his profile that he enjoyed motorcycling. My heart revs for motorcycles and height makes no difference when you are riding on the back of one of those. With my mind re-opened I responded to 36 year old G's communication request.
I also was feeling brave enough to "Nudge" Hot K. Nudging someone means that if he hasn't responded to your communication in over seven days you can ask eH to alert him with a gentle reminder. I was waiting on him to send me an email as we were finally at Open Communication stage. In my last communication to him he had asked me what I had learned from past relationship. I wrote:
In the short answer section G asked me some tough, specific questions. I took my time considering my responses figuring either he was going to love 'em or hate em. He happened to love 'em, not just because he agreed with me, but he told me that he really appreciated that I took the time to give well thought-out answers.
We traded an email each and then on my second turn I was in a goofy mood and wrote a rather light-hearted note. He caught onto this quickly and we started trading laughs. He even seemed intimidated at one point, saying he didn't know how he was going to match my wit, but that he was going to try.
I really enjoyed corresponding with G and I was so glad that I had decided to take a chance on him. While talking with him though I was juggling a list of guys again. There was another A, this one a 37-year-old architect, D, a 29-year-old Marketing Manager, S, an IT guy who looked like Charlie Sheen (imagine him without the bad persona), and B, a parts manager. It was raining men, hallelujah! By the middle of that week I'd had three invites for a first meeting. I set something up with A 2.0 for Sunday and G for the Monday.
B, the parts guy wanted me to call him that week so I dialed him up on Friday. It didn't go well.
Um. Next!
JM actually gave me a very sweet response that made me feel better. He wrote, "Thank you for your feedback and honesty. I really appreciate it, very much. Your a great person and good head on your shoulders and really interesting to talk to." We added each other as friends on Facebook and have exchanged a few notes. Last I heard he had found another match. I truly wish him all the best and have nothing but respect and admiration for him. He deserves a really great country-loving girl.
In early March I found myself a little full of pinot grigio and checking my matches online. I hadn't had any requests for communications in a while and had been playing a bit of a princess, not wanting to be the one to initiate conversation with a match. But hey, I was paying for this service so I figured I should do my part to get my money's worth. And besides that, my mission was to have an experience, a blog-worthy one, with romance being the second priority. So I responded to a few messages that I had left hanging while I was focused on A and JM. I also initiated conversation with a bunch of guys in my matches list. One guy had asked me why I signed up for eH. In drunken honesty I replied:
A sense of adventure (why not give it a try?), admiration for the Lee and Anne-Marie commercial (their names even rhyme!) and I had a coupon.
Thriftiness is HOT.
There was a match on my list that had initiated communication with me but I had chosen to ignore. He was short, 5'5, which is my height and maybe not the best physical match for a girl who spends five days or more out of the week in heels. In his profile I got the sense that he wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for and that he was kind of a goof. His pictures, aside from one taken of him at a wedding, were of him making funny faces or doing something goofy. I worried that he was just one of those guys who didn't really take the dating thing seriously, would reel a girl in and then hide behind his humour instead of letting a connection develop. I'd been there, done that, learned the seafood taco joke. I wasn't interested in goofy at all. But, in occupation he listed Pediatric Emergency Medicine. I asked my sister, who works at the Children's Hospital if she knew a doctor named G. She did. She said he probably wouldn't know her, but she thought he seemed nice. He also mentioned in his profile that he enjoyed motorcycling. My heart revs for motorcycles and height makes no difference when you are riding on the back of one of those. With my mind re-opened I responded to 36 year old G's communication request.
I also was feeling brave enough to "Nudge" Hot K. Nudging someone means that if he hasn't responded to your communication in over seven days you can ask eH to alert him with a gentle reminder. I was waiting on him to send me an email as we were finally at Open Communication stage. In my last communication to him he had asked me what I had learned from past relationship. I wrote:
I've learned the importance of friendship as a base for a strong relationship. I can easily fall in lust or like with a charming, attractive, talented, smart, fun guy, but if we can't laugh at each other's jokes, treat each other with respect, or communicate without fear of saying the wrong thing, then it's not going to be love.
In the short answer section G asked me some tough, specific questions. I took my time considering my responses figuring either he was going to love 'em or hate em. He happened to love 'em, not just because he agreed with me, but he told me that he really appreciated that I took the time to give well thought-out answers.
We traded an email each and then on my second turn I was in a goofy mood and wrote a rather light-hearted note. He caught onto this quickly and we started trading laughs. He even seemed intimidated at one point, saying he didn't know how he was going to match my wit, but that he was going to try.
I really enjoyed corresponding with G and I was so glad that I had decided to take a chance on him. While talking with him though I was juggling a list of guys again. There was another A, this one a 37-year-old architect, D, a 29-year-old Marketing Manager, S, an IT guy who looked like Charlie Sheen (imagine him without the bad persona), and B, a parts manager. It was raining men, hallelujah! By the middle of that week I'd had three invites for a first meeting. I set something up with A 2.0 for Sunday and G for the Monday.
B, the parts guy wanted me to call him that week so I dialed him up on Friday. It didn't go well.
He: What school did you go to?
Me: the U of W and Red River.
He: U of W eh? That sucks.
Me: Blink blink. Excuse me?
He: Well, it's full of feminists.
From there the conversation turned to his dislike of affirmative action and how there are no men on the board of Avon Cosmetics.
He: So, how many guys have you met on the site?
Me: I've gone on two dates.
He: And now I'm going to be number three.
Um. Next!
Friday, April 02, 2010
Between a Rock Climb and a Hard Place: Part IV of The eHarmony Experiement Diaries
This is the latest post in the series called The eHarmony Experiment Diaries. You may want to read the previous posts in order: I II III.
I can't make this stuff up, y'all. Dating for Dummies, yup, I'm serious.
I don't know why I let the date with A get to a second location. That frustrates me. Honestly, there are too many times in my life that I am lucky I didn't end up dead or worse. It's a complicated thing where one part of my head is telling me "uh, girl, get out of this, now" and the other part is saying, "you're fine, just go along with it and it will all be over soon. How bad could it really get? In fact, maybe it will get better!"
There have also been important moments in my life where I have felt uncomfortable with someone and afterward if I said something about it to someone else, the complaint was given a dismissive reply or simply shrugged off. The message I would get from this was that I was overreacting and didn't have a right to feel what I did (and therefore I was clearly crazy, being prudish or demanding too much respect). Oh he was just a little drunk, Jill. Oh he didn't mean anything by that, those were just words, he's a guy. Well, it's not like he grabbed your boob or something. Or, I don't know what happened, I don't want to hear about it, just stop embarrassing us and never speak of this again.
I struggle a lot with where to draw the line and where to just put up with the uncomfortableness until it's over. I feel truly fortunate that so far I haven't landed myself in a really bad situation.
I sent A a note on Sunday morning asking if he could return the movie for me. He wrote back that he would. Later, he emailed me again.
I replied:
Thankfully, he returned the movie before I turned him down.
I wrote JM back and we agreed to meet up that Tuesday. I really was enjoying trading emails with him as he had such a good idea as to what he wanted in a relationship, and we seemed to want all the same things. We planned to meet at a gelato place in the Village. When I got there he was waiting for me, leaning against his car. "It's closed," he said. "They're closed for the season."
I felt mucho embarrassed and quickly thought of a Plan B. We headed to Carlos and Murphy's for nachos instead.
JM was a good, gentlemanly date, he even pulled out my chair for me. The conversation we had was good, but some how though he just didn't look like his pictures that'd had me sighing every time I looked at them. I think I had in my head a certain idea as to what my dream Farmboy would sound like, what he would wear, how he would carry himself, and JM was nothing like what I had pictured. It was like I had fallen in love with a character in a book and then saw the movie and was disappointed with how he was represented on screen. As our date went on I could tell that JM was a country boy at heart and he would never be happy in the city. I knew I could never make a life for myself in a rural setting. Even if we went out again and I got past the contrast between the JM from my head and the real JM, our hearts could never be completely happy in the same space. The next day JM emailed me and asked if I'd like to meet again for dinner or a movie. For the second time in only four days I had to find an honest and sensitive way to turn a guy down:
I felt awful that day. The eH thing was starting to wear me out. I was getting rejected by guys who looked interesting and now I had just turned down two guys who had some kind of interest in me. This was different for me and I found it frustrating. Was I too picky? Asking for too much? And, when I would try to keep my mind open and not get too keyed up about an upcoming date, the let down that followed a bad one, along with the desire to quickly put myself back in the game was emotionally exhausting. Online dating is not for the faint at heart. I thought this was supposed to be fun. When does it get to the fun part?
Soon.
I can't make this stuff up, y'all. Dating for Dummies, yup, I'm serious.
I don't know why I let the date with A get to a second location. That frustrates me. Honestly, there are too many times in my life that I am lucky I didn't end up dead or worse. It's a complicated thing where one part of my head is telling me "uh, girl, get out of this, now" and the other part is saying, "you're fine, just go along with it and it will all be over soon. How bad could it really get? In fact, maybe it will get better!"
There have also been important moments in my life where I have felt uncomfortable with someone and afterward if I said something about it to someone else, the complaint was given a dismissive reply or simply shrugged off. The message I would get from this was that I was overreacting and didn't have a right to feel what I did (and therefore I was clearly crazy, being prudish or demanding too much respect). Oh he was just a little drunk, Jill. Oh he didn't mean anything by that, those were just words, he's a guy. Well, it's not like he grabbed your boob or something. Or, I don't know what happened, I don't want to hear about it, just stop embarrassing us and never speak of this again.
I struggle a lot with where to draw the line and where to just put up with the uncomfortableness until it's over. I feel truly fortunate that so far I haven't landed myself in a really bad situation.
***
I sent A a note on Sunday morning asking if he could return the movie for me. He wrote back that he would. Later, he emailed me again.
I enjoyed your company on Saturday. So, think you're up for rock climbing?
I replied:
Hi A, I enjoyed your company on Saturday too. I know you're looking for someone who can keep up with you though, and I know myself well; I don't function at the same high gear you do. I must graciously decline your invite to join you on a wall climb. I certainly do hope you find that someone to go with though.
Jill
Thankfully, he returned the movie before I turned him down.
I wrote JM back and we agreed to meet up that Tuesday. I really was enjoying trading emails with him as he had such a good idea as to what he wanted in a relationship, and we seemed to want all the same things. We planned to meet at a gelato place in the Village. When I got there he was waiting for me, leaning against his car. "It's closed," he said. "They're closed for the season."
I felt mucho embarrassed and quickly thought of a Plan B. We headed to Carlos and Murphy's for nachos instead.
JM was a good, gentlemanly date, he even pulled out my chair for me. The conversation we had was good, but some how though he just didn't look like his pictures that'd had me sighing every time I looked at them. I think I had in my head a certain idea as to what my dream Farmboy would sound like, what he would wear, how he would carry himself, and JM was nothing like what I had pictured. It was like I had fallen in love with a character in a book and then saw the movie and was disappointed with how he was represented on screen. As our date went on I could tell that JM was a country boy at heart and he would never be happy in the city. I knew I could never make a life for myself in a rural setting. Even if we went out again and I got past the contrast between the JM from my head and the real JM, our hearts could never be completely happy in the same space. The next day JM emailed me and asked if I'd like to meet again for dinner or a movie. For the second time in only four days I had to find an honest and sensitive way to turn a guy down:
JM,
One of the things that really shined through for me about you yesterday is that your heart definitely beats for the country. I think that's a wonderful part of your character, but I don't think it matches well with my heart, which beats for the city life. I think your uncomfortableness with the big cities is not unlike what I feel about country life. Rural Manitoba is a great place to visit, but it's not a place I could ever see myself calling home. I think you deserve someone who loves the rural life and feels as comfortable in it as much as you do. I know you are looking for your soul mate so I wouldn't feel right about getting in the way of your path to her. For those reasons, I'd have to decline a dinner or movie date.
I felt awful that day. The eH thing was starting to wear me out. I was getting rejected by guys who looked interesting and now I had just turned down two guys who had some kind of interest in me. This was different for me and I found it frustrating. Was I too picky? Asking for too much? And, when I would try to keep my mind open and not get too keyed up about an upcoming date, the let down that followed a bad one, along with the desire to quickly put myself back in the game was emotionally exhausting. Online dating is not for the faint at heart. I thought this was supposed to be fun. When does it get to the fun part?
Soon.
Thursday, April 01, 2010
There is Always a Reason: Part III of The eHarmony Experiment Diaries
This is part III of The eHarmony Experiment Diaries. Read parts I and II here.
In my second week on eH I got matched with A, the 28-year-old home builder and mechanical engineer. He was cute looking, industrious, went to Hot Yoga, and even followed the figure skating during the Olympics because as he said, "you can watch hockey anytime". I found myself wondering how he could possibly be single.
A was funny in a way. He wouldn't open his emails to me with any kind of greeting or close them with a sign off--no "Hey Jill," or "Have a good weekend". However, I always changed the subject instead of letting it run on with "re: re: re:" and he started picking up on this and played along. He then began signing off his emails with "Regards, Andrew." It made me laugh. Regards. How formal! But his efforts suggested to me that he was trying and I found that sweet. Not everyone is a natural and I figured maybe email just wasn't his best medium of expression. I liked him because he seemed ambitious, down to Earth and loved the outdoors. I also admire a guy who can build something with his hands.
A asked if I would like to go rock climbing with him. He also suggested doing a winter picnic or going skating. At first the rock climbing idea appealed to me, but I polled some people for their thoughts on the idea as a first date. OAF made a point that I thought was valid. He said, "it's all about him showing off to you. You just have to show up looking cute."
Everyone else I asked said they'd be afraid of looking bad. I, of course, am not one to sacrifice an adventure for saving my pride, so that was never my concern. But I did wonder just how long I could climb for, having zero experience. Plus, without knowing if the guy is the patient teaching type or the competitive, "you're on your own" type, I wondered if it might be best to put this idea in a back pocket for a potential second or third date. We went with the winter picnic in the park idea instead and agreed to meet on a Saturday afternoon.
In the meantime, this new guy, JM, emailed me. You have the option of skipping the whole guided communication dance and going straight to email, which JM decided to try with me. I hesitated because things were going well with A, but something (probably my gut) told me to just go for it.
I accepted and read his message. There was something likable about him right away. I almost closed him as a match when he was delivered to me because he was younger (26) and he lived outside of Winnipeg in the country (about an hour away I think, I hate commutes. I don't even like driving across the city when the weather's bad so I am cautious about getting involved with a guy outside of the city limits.). He was cute though, a graphic designer who played guitar and listed family, politics, finding a soulmate and snowmobiling in his interests. He was a country boy, I am a city girl, but it would be fun to go snowmobiling and sit by the fire with him and his guitar, if only for a weekend, I thought.
A had that "guy's guy" appeal that works for me, but JM had some definite romance about him. I really didn't know how it was going to play out. It was just nice to feel some optimism about love again.
One of my gut feelings about A was that he wasn't exactly the sensitive type. I didn't get a sense of warmth or kind-heartedness from him, which is something that is important to me. JM had a huge heart and I felt like I could tell him anything. A and I talked on the phone a few days before the date--all business just to make the arrangements for our meeting. After we hung up I still felt that there was something not quite working for me but I wanted to keep an open mind and wait to see how things went when we met. When I got home from the date the first thing I did was grab Mac and emailed OAF the whole recap.
OAF wrote me back.
"Absolutely spectacular," he said and then suggested I take some lessons from Jennifer Garner's character in The Invention of Lying for next time. Y'think? Like Oprah says, sometimes God whispers, sometimes He throws a brick's weight in perfectly blunt lines, in a Jennifer Garner film, that you can use to get yourself away from unpleasant situations.
I replied:
In my second week on eH I got matched with A, the 28-year-old home builder and mechanical engineer. He was cute looking, industrious, went to Hot Yoga, and even followed the figure skating during the Olympics because as he said, "you can watch hockey anytime". I found myself wondering how he could possibly be single.
A was funny in a way. He wouldn't open his emails to me with any kind of greeting or close them with a sign off--no "Hey Jill," or "Have a good weekend". However, I always changed the subject instead of letting it run on with "re: re: re:" and he started picking up on this and played along. He then began signing off his emails with "Regards, Andrew." It made me laugh. Regards. How formal! But his efforts suggested to me that he was trying and I found that sweet. Not everyone is a natural and I figured maybe email just wasn't his best medium of expression. I liked him because he seemed ambitious, down to Earth and loved the outdoors. I also admire a guy who can build something with his hands.
A asked if I would like to go rock climbing with him. He also suggested doing a winter picnic or going skating. At first the rock climbing idea appealed to me, but I polled some people for their thoughts on the idea as a first date. OAF made a point that I thought was valid. He said, "it's all about him showing off to you. You just have to show up looking cute."
Everyone else I asked said they'd be afraid of looking bad. I, of course, am not one to sacrifice an adventure for saving my pride, so that was never my concern. But I did wonder just how long I could climb for, having zero experience. Plus, without knowing if the guy is the patient teaching type or the competitive, "you're on your own" type, I wondered if it might be best to put this idea in a back pocket for a potential second or third date. We went with the winter picnic in the park idea instead and agreed to meet on a Saturday afternoon.
In the meantime, this new guy, JM, emailed me. You have the option of skipping the whole guided communication dance and going straight to email, which JM decided to try with me. I hesitated because things were going well with A, but something (probably my gut) told me to just go for it.
I accepted and read his message. There was something likable about him right away. I almost closed him as a match when he was delivered to me because he was younger (26) and he lived outside of Winnipeg in the country (about an hour away I think, I hate commutes. I don't even like driving across the city when the weather's bad so I am cautious about getting involved with a guy outside of the city limits.). He was cute though, a graphic designer who played guitar and listed family, politics, finding a soulmate and snowmobiling in his interests. He was a country boy, I am a city girl, but it would be fun to go snowmobiling and sit by the fire with him and his guitar, if only for a weekend, I thought.
A had that "guy's guy" appeal that works for me, but JM had some definite romance about him. I really didn't know how it was going to play out. It was just nice to feel some optimism about love again.
One of my gut feelings about A was that he wasn't exactly the sensitive type. I didn't get a sense of warmth or kind-heartedness from him, which is something that is important to me. JM had a huge heart and I felt like I could tell him anything. A and I talked on the phone a few days before the date--all business just to make the arrangements for our meeting. After we hung up I still felt that there was something not quite working for me but I wanted to keep an open mind and wait to see how things went when we met. When I got home from the date the first thing I did was grab Mac and emailed OAF the whole recap.
From: Jill
To: OAF
Date: Sun, Feb 28, 2010 at 1:50 AM
Subject: Les boys
hghhjgjm645urbhjn567hgghuhjghy
jgv
That's me banging my head on the keyboard. If this is dating and romance, I want out.
So on Monday A and I set up a date. On Wednesday I got an email from a guy who I had been trading questions with but who disappeared on me for a week. Normally, unforgivable but this guy IS PURE HOTNESS. The beautiful should not get special privileges, I know, but he looks like John Stamos and he plays guitar. In the mean time I was also still trading lengthy emails with JM, the cute farmboy.
Saturday arrives and it is date day with A. He picks me up at two. He drives a red truck, a Ford (I'm Chevy), standard, and he doesn't play the radio or anything. We went to the park for the winter picnic idea. He brought wood, hot dogs and fixings, a thermos of wine and hot chocolate mix. I was in charge of the S'mores. It was nice.
He was cute in person too, which is always nice. After a few hours of sitting at the fire and watching it go down he turned and asked me, "are you getting cold yet?" and grabbed my knee. I was surprised by this a bit. Conversation was going pretty well but I didn't think we were at random acts of grabbing stage. We called it a day around five. As he was driving me home he asked if I had any plans for the evening. Note to self. When you plan an afternoon first date with a guy, always make sure you have plans for the evening, or at least an idea of plans that is plausible (I am a terrible liar). Do not say, "no, just relaxing," because then guy, who you just spent an entire afternoon with in the park will ask where you can get a movie in this area. You will misinterpret this question and think he's asking where the nearest theatre is. He will correct you and say, "oh, no, I mean where you can rent one." And then, because you really really really cannot lie or keep your mouth shut you answer, "there's a Blockbuster up here".
So we went in and browsed the selections. He panned all the ones I picked out. Isn't there any kind of first date rule about letting the girl pick the movie? We ended up with The Informant. He didn't have a card for Blockbuster's so I had to pick up the movie. AND F*CK I JUST REMEMBERED THAT I LEFT IT AT HIS PLACE.
Excuse me.
So then he asked me, "your place or mine" and I was thinking, um, well, I did spend some time this afternoon house cleaning but not quite "house guest" level cleaning. Plus, I figure it's easier for me to leave a place early than it is for me to kick a guy out early. So I told him my TV was on the fritz (which it is) so his place would work better. I also asked him to drop me off at home first so I could take a hot shower to warm up and then told him I'd drive myself over (again, making it much easier to leave when I want to.) Also, I hate smelling like smoked meat after sitting around a campfire. Although I guess really, that's all I am, right? A nice piece of smoked meat.
At his place I stepped inside and hung up my own coat. He told me to have a seat. I looked from the nice spacious couch to the love seat. The love seat offered a better view for the TV so I sat down and tried to make myself into the smallest ball possible. I tucked my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them oh so casually. This position gets tough after a while though. My feet started to hurt because they wanted to slip off the leather. I forced myself to endure it though. He tried to rest his arm on my knee but realized it was too high and awkward to keep there. We watched the movie.
After that movie it was still relatively early so he started flipping through the Video On Demand selections. We decided to watch The Invention of Lying. I eventually relaxed my right leg down to the floor but kept the left one up for a guard.
"Do you want to lay down?' he asked. In my own bed? Alone? YES! Oh, here? Um, where? And how, on a teeny tiny love seat?
"No! I'm fine!" I said. After that movie the Finland/Slovakia bronze medal hockey game was on. I know, I know, I had two movie endings to get myself out of there and did not take them. So then he picked up my legs and pulled them over so they rested perpendicularly over his. He rested his right arm on my knees and stroked my feet with his left hand.
"Colourful socks," he said. I could feel his thumb inching higher and higher to the cuff of my left sock and I said a silent prayer of thanks that I decided to shave my legs today, although really, at that point, some stubble may have been my best defense. My skin is rather sensitive, so when he did work his way higher to my bare shin it started to hurt. The game was nearly over. I planned to make my exit.
His room mate came home. He sat down on the expansive couch and watched the rest of the game with us. Once it was over I announced that I was heading home. The room mate too jumped up and headed off to his room. I of course was hoping he'd decide to hang around a bit longer and make the good bye at the door less private. No dice. I grab my jacket off of the hanger, put on my shoes and my gloves. A came over and gave me a hug. Ok, fine. He went for a kiss too, but I kept my head to the side so he hit my cheek. We pulled back and he went in again and I let his lips find mine for a very quick, and just-outside-of-polite kiss. He grinned. Oh great, he thinks this is all good. I suppose I really gave no obvious indication it was bad so I cannot shake my head at anyone other than myself. Fine. I really am mad though that I forgot that movie. It's due back on Monday. Damn it!
I just always find myself taken by surprise when a guy treats me like a thing he wants to take back to his cave. I have a well-endowed brain and I'm a nice girl. Why would a guy think that a smart nice girl would want to be manhandled? I'm sorry, but on a first date, don't touch me. We've only just met and I'm still trying to figure out if I am comfortable with breathing the same air as you. I know, I know. Big brain, small voice. Learn to speak up and not worry so much about being polite or you have no business being out in today's dating world.
I checked my email when I got home. I had a new message from JM, the lovely farmboy. I've fallen even more smitten for him as he talked about enjoying The Vampire Diaries and how much he likes a good story line. He always says so many right things. He had a suggestion for a first date and he wrote, "Would it be too early to do something like that? Do you want to meet up sometime soon or are you more comfortable just emailing for a bit?"
Just when I was starting to wonder if properly courting a girl was tragically dead, along comes JM, the small town Farmboy who wants to know what I am comfortable with. So now I just have to figure out how I'm going to get that movie back from A and set up plans with JM, who I am destined to love, but break his heart when I tell him that I will not move out to rural Manitoba to be with him. Ever. And what about John Stamos who actually lives in this city? Ohhhh my. I could be busy for the next while. It's about flippin time!
The Princess is now going to bed. Stay tuned for the next chapter.
Jill
OAF wrote me back.
"Absolutely spectacular," he said and then suggested I take some lessons from Jennifer Garner's character in The Invention of Lying for next time. Y'think? Like Oprah says, sometimes God whispers, sometimes He throws a brick's weight in perfectly blunt lines, in a Jennifer Garner film, that you can use to get yourself away from unpleasant situations.
I replied:
Yes, I really should practice bluntness.
I forgot one other fun detail. While I was sitting there in the cave man's clutches I noticed something on the table. It was one of those miniature books that you can buy in the card stores and give to someone as a funny or sometimes overly sentimental gift. The title of the book on Cave Man's coffee table?
Dating for Dummies
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Hot and Bothered: Part II of The eHarmony Experiment Diaries
This is part II of the latest jillstory epic. Read Part I
The first thing I did once I was an official subscriber was check out D's profile to see if the person I had found on Facebook was the same one I was talking to. It wasn't. But this wasn't a pleasant surprise. It turned out that I had talked to D before on another online dating site a few years ago and it didn't go well. I stopped talking to him at one point and then a week and a half later he emailed me on a tirade about how he thought we had something good going but that I turned out to be just like all the rest. Although he was not the scary biker guy I had found in my Googling, he was still intimidating looking--very large, as in, that-guy-has-to-be-on-steroids-or-a-descendant-of-the-hulk, large, and given that I had experienced his ranting before I had to wonder if there was something chemical going on there. I sent D a message to say that I didn't feel comfortable meeting up right away and then I closed him as a match. My instinct knew and it was right. I continued to learn in this experiment that it was a pretty reliable resource.
I checked out the rest of the matches I had been blindly communicating with and then e-mailed Lisa to give her the highlights:
So there were some matches that definitely looked appealing, and some that were the typical flakes or icky slicksters. My first date happened on February 27 with A, an engineer grad with his own construction company. What a re-introduction to dating. Oh my. I didn't stop after that date only because I figured it couldn't possibly go worse than that. (Sorry Kasia, tune in tomorrow... ;)
The first thing I did once I was an official subscriber was check out D's profile to see if the person I had found on Facebook was the same one I was talking to. It wasn't. But this wasn't a pleasant surprise. It turned out that I had talked to D before on another online dating site a few years ago and it didn't go well. I stopped talking to him at one point and then a week and a half later he emailed me on a tirade about how he thought we had something good going but that I turned out to be just like all the rest. Although he was not the scary biker guy I had found in my Googling, he was still intimidating looking--very large, as in, that-guy-has-to-be-on-steroids-or-a-descendant-of-the-hulk, large, and given that I had experienced his ranting before I had to wonder if there was something chemical going on there. I sent D a message to say that I didn't feel comfortable meeting up right away and then I closed him as a match. My instinct knew and it was right. I continued to learn in this experiment that it was a pretty reliable resource.
I checked out the rest of the matches I had been blindly communicating with and then e-mailed Lisa to give her the highlights:
K the Middle School Teacher
IS HOT. OH MY GOODNESS HE LOOKS LIKE JOHN STAMOS. There is even a picture of him holding an acoustic guitar. I haven't heard anything more from him though so perhaps he's found another lovely lady he feels more connected to. Boo.
T, 31, Commercial Writer/Producer
I didn't contact him and he didn't contact me, yet, but when I clicked on his profile today to check him out I realized that he was in Red River College a year behind us! I always thought he was cute but probably a bad idea. I never would have thought he'd have a hard time getting a date though. I am going to ask my Good-Wooden Leg friends who worked in radio if they know him.
J, 37 the Sales Consultant
Last night I got a message back from him. He told me about his work (furniture sales) and for the THIRD time asked me how many times I go to the gym/week and where I go (Dude, same as I told you the first two times, GoodLife, 4-6x a week). At that point I closed the communication. This morning I checked him out. He is attractive, too bad he can't remember details and has that icky salesman factor. Perhaps he should consider building a spreadsheet for better success.
So there were some matches that definitely looked appealing, and some that were the typical flakes or icky slicksters. My first date happened on February 27 with A, an engineer grad with his own construction company. What a re-introduction to dating. Oh my. I didn't stop after that date only because I figured it couldn't possibly go worse than that. (Sorry Kasia, tune in tomorrow... ;)
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
eh baby, what's your sign? The eHarmony Experiement Diaries
It feels like it is time for another epic jillstory. I thought I'd save this one for May, when I'd have a conclusion for you, but it seems to have reached an interesting mid-point, so I'm going to share what I've got so far.
In February I decided to sample eHarmony on the Free Communication Long Weekend. I love the Lee and Ann Marie commercial. Come on, even their names sound cute together. Maybe there is a Will out there for me?
With eHarmony (eH) you don't browse the whole pool of single guys, they send you matches, supposedly based on your mutual compatibility. During the free weekends you can open up a profile, fill out the questionnaire, and receive and communicate with as many matches as you please. The catch is that when you're just a sampler you don't get to see the photos of your matches.
This is true blind dating. I decided it would also be an interesting experiment in seeing what attracted me when I didn't have a photo to look at. My first batch of matches included architects, marketing professionals, teachers, doctors and engineers, oh my! These weren't just men, they were professionals. I like very much.
eH uses a guided communication process. You start by trading five multiple choice questions that you select from a provided list. The questions ask about your idea of a romantic night out, your preference for the type of place to eat out, and how busy of a schedule you can accept from your partner. The next stage is the short answer questions. You can select three questions from the list or write your own. After you both respond to those you trade your lists of Must Haves and Can't Stands--10 qualities you have selected from an eH provided list. If this goes fine you then get to move to the final stage which is Open Communication, where you can trade emails through the website. I know, what an ordeal, right? I had a lot of matches I was at various stages with. It was getting hard to keep track of them all so I put them into a spreadsheet, listing their names, age, occupation, notes on things I was attracted to and things I was not attracted to in their profile, and communication stage. Yes, I am an organized dater. By the end of the free weekend I had reached the final stage with a couple of matches.
My first date request came on the Friday from D, a 29 year old chef.
He said, "Rather than spend time trading emails back and forth I prefer to meet up and see if this online chemistry exists in person as well."
Normally this would be my philosophy on things too, but I had an uneasy feeling about him. Also, he sent me his Hotmail address with his full name so I did what any sensible person would do--I Googled him to see if I could find a photo. All I knew about him physically was that he was about a foot taller than me. I found a Facebook profile which did not ease my mind at all. He looked, well, scary. If I was casting someone for the roll of the bad guy on a motorcycle who has been emotionally damaged beyond repair, I'd pick him. I was bothered by the fact that I was judging him this way, but this feeling in my gut would not go away. I did not answer him right away.
On V-Day you may recall that I got together with Lisa and some other girls for dinner. I shared with them the profiles of the guys I was talking to. They too felt there was something just a bit off with D the chef, based on his emails and profile. Lisa however gave her Best Friend vote for K, a 35-year-old middle school teacher who liked travelling, canoeing, the outdoors, and played the guitar. When I read his profile she said, "You have to talk to him, he sounds perfect for you!" I was waiting on his reply to my last round of questions at that point.
The free communication weekend ended at midnight after the holiday Monday. I had found a coupon though to sign up for a three-month membership for only $60. This sounded like a reasonable price for an experiment. I was excited about the matches I had received over the weekend and more than curious to see who I was actually talking to. I decided to go for it. My mission would be to keep an open mind and just do it for the experience. I wanted to learn about dating, the people out there and what worked for me. If I happened to find a real, true match in there, even better. It's now been almost two months of e-meeting and dates. What a journey.
In February I decided to sample eHarmony on the Free Communication Long Weekend. I love the Lee and Ann Marie commercial. Come on, even their names sound cute together. Maybe there is a Will out there for me?
With eHarmony (eH) you don't browse the whole pool of single guys, they send you matches, supposedly based on your mutual compatibility. During the free weekends you can open up a profile, fill out the questionnaire, and receive and communicate with as many matches as you please. The catch is that when you're just a sampler you don't get to see the photos of your matches.
This is true blind dating. I decided it would also be an interesting experiment in seeing what attracted me when I didn't have a photo to look at. My first batch of matches included architects, marketing professionals, teachers, doctors and engineers, oh my! These weren't just men, they were professionals. I like very much.
eH uses a guided communication process. You start by trading five multiple choice questions that you select from a provided list. The questions ask about your idea of a romantic night out, your preference for the type of place to eat out, and how busy of a schedule you can accept from your partner. The next stage is the short answer questions. You can select three questions from the list or write your own. After you both respond to those you trade your lists of Must Haves and Can't Stands--10 qualities you have selected from an eH provided list. If this goes fine you then get to move to the final stage which is Open Communication, where you can trade emails through the website. I know, what an ordeal, right? I had a lot of matches I was at various stages with. It was getting hard to keep track of them all so I put them into a spreadsheet, listing their names, age, occupation, notes on things I was attracted to and things I was not attracted to in their profile, and communication stage. Yes, I am an organized dater. By the end of the free weekend I had reached the final stage with a couple of matches.
My first date request came on the Friday from D, a 29 year old chef.
He said, "Rather than spend time trading emails back and forth I prefer to meet up and see if this online chemistry exists in person as well."
Normally this would be my philosophy on things too, but I had an uneasy feeling about him. Also, he sent me his Hotmail address with his full name so I did what any sensible person would do--I Googled him to see if I could find a photo. All I knew about him physically was that he was about a foot taller than me. I found a Facebook profile which did not ease my mind at all. He looked, well, scary. If I was casting someone for the roll of the bad guy on a motorcycle who has been emotionally damaged beyond repair, I'd pick him. I was bothered by the fact that I was judging him this way, but this feeling in my gut would not go away. I did not answer him right away.
On V-Day you may recall that I got together with Lisa and some other girls for dinner. I shared with them the profiles of the guys I was talking to. They too felt there was something just a bit off with D the chef, based on his emails and profile. Lisa however gave her Best Friend vote for K, a 35-year-old middle school teacher who liked travelling, canoeing, the outdoors, and played the guitar. When I read his profile she said, "You have to talk to him, he sounds perfect for you!" I was waiting on his reply to my last round of questions at that point.
The free communication weekend ended at midnight after the holiday Monday. I had found a coupon though to sign up for a three-month membership for only $60. This sounded like a reasonable price for an experiment. I was excited about the matches I had received over the weekend and more than curious to see who I was actually talking to. I decided to go for it. My mission would be to keep an open mind and just do it for the experience. I wanted to learn about dating, the people out there and what worked for me. If I happened to find a real, true match in there, even better. It's now been almost two months of e-meeting and dates. What a journey.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
U da Bomb
What a day.
I had an appointment at the St. Boniface Hospital today. All I knew for sure was that the test had something to do with my heart, which my doctor wanted to check out because of my fainting spell last summer. When he was telling me he wanted me to go for the test he said "Holter Device" and when I phoned the hospital to schedule it I was directed to the Stress Test lab, so in my head I was imagining being hooked up to a machine while I got my heart rate going on the treadmill. So this morning I decided to wear my yoga pants, sports bra, t-shirt and runners. Even if I was wrong about the running thing, I was confident that I just looked "fun and sporty".
I was wrong about the running thing.
The Holter is a device that records every beat of your heart on a tape recorder through seven electrodes affixed to your chest and torso. I removed my top and the cardiac technologist scratched my skin with what I can only guess was fingertip bits of sandpaper.
"And now I am going to rub those spots with alcohol," she said. Fun.
After she scratched and burned me, she placed the seven electrode disks, taped them, and connected all the attached wires to another cable that looked like the wiring required for hooking a trailer up to the back of your vehicle. All this connected to a device, about the size of a cell phone, that I have to wear on my hip for 24 hours. At this point I had to bite my tongue, my lip, and the inside of my cheek to keep myself from laughing. Even after I left the lab I wanted to burst out into a fit of giggles because all I could think was that I must look like a suicide bomber. Can you imagine if I went to the airport today and tried to board a plane? If I had a blind date?
I went home and changed into work clothes, including a cowl neck sweater that came the closest to being able to hide the electrodes. Because two of them were placed just under my collarbone though it was impossible to completely conceal the device and I felt rather self conscious about it.
On Saturday when I was on the treadmill I got a cramp in my left shoulder which escalated later on into burning pain. I had suffered this pain before and tried massage therapy for relief but was never fully satisfied with the results. On Monday I decided I would check into chiropractic. I phoned a place up and made the appointment for Tuesday after work, not realizing at the time that I would be going with my kamikaze pilot getup on. I also went to a weights class on Monday night at the gym with Amara and was surprised to find that the exercise actually helped a great deal.
The chiropractor did some basic assessments and asked me about my pain and my exercise habits. He concluded that I was protecting my left side a fair bit but would need X-rays to complete his diagnosis. Since I was wired up we agreed that I should come back later for those. I was fine with all of this until he said that he wouldn't recommend I do any running or bouncing around exercises until he had me realigned.
No more running? No more Zumba dance? Could the Holter device detect a breaking heart? I know there are other low-impact ways to exercise but I finally found something that works that I love. If you had told me ten years ago that one day I'd be pouting about not being able to run I'd have told you to take a run out of town. I can't quit now. No way. I'll put up with the pain, but I'm not going to stop strengthening my heart and pushing myself to the limit.
I had an appointment at the St. Boniface Hospital today. All I knew for sure was that the test had something to do with my heart, which my doctor wanted to check out because of my fainting spell last summer. When he was telling me he wanted me to go for the test he said "Holter Device" and when I phoned the hospital to schedule it I was directed to the Stress Test lab, so in my head I was imagining being hooked up to a machine while I got my heart rate going on the treadmill. So this morning I decided to wear my yoga pants, sports bra, t-shirt and runners. Even if I was wrong about the running thing, I was confident that I just looked "fun and sporty".
I was wrong about the running thing.
The Holter is a device that records every beat of your heart on a tape recorder through seven electrodes affixed to your chest and torso. I removed my top and the cardiac technologist scratched my skin with what I can only guess was fingertip bits of sandpaper.
"And now I am going to rub those spots with alcohol," she said. Fun.
After she scratched and burned me, she placed the seven electrode disks, taped them, and connected all the attached wires to another cable that looked like the wiring required for hooking a trailer up to the back of your vehicle. All this connected to a device, about the size of a cell phone, that I have to wear on my hip for 24 hours. At this point I had to bite my tongue, my lip, and the inside of my cheek to keep myself from laughing. Even after I left the lab I wanted to burst out into a fit of giggles because all I could think was that I must look like a suicide bomber. Can you imagine if I went to the airport today and tried to board a plane? If I had a blind date?
I went home and changed into work clothes, including a cowl neck sweater that came the closest to being able to hide the electrodes. Because two of them were placed just under my collarbone though it was impossible to completely conceal the device and I felt rather self conscious about it.
On Saturday when I was on the treadmill I got a cramp in my left shoulder which escalated later on into burning pain. I had suffered this pain before and tried massage therapy for relief but was never fully satisfied with the results. On Monday I decided I would check into chiropractic. I phoned a place up and made the appointment for Tuesday after work, not realizing at the time that I would be going with my kamikaze pilot getup on. I also went to a weights class on Monday night at the gym with Amara and was surprised to find that the exercise actually helped a great deal.
The chiropractor did some basic assessments and asked me about my pain and my exercise habits. He concluded that I was protecting my left side a fair bit but would need X-rays to complete his diagnosis. Since I was wired up we agreed that I should come back later for those. I was fine with all of this until he said that he wouldn't recommend I do any running or bouncing around exercises until he had me realigned.
No more running? No more Zumba dance? Could the Holter device detect a breaking heart? I know there are other low-impact ways to exercise but I finally found something that works that I love. If you had told me ten years ago that one day I'd be pouting about not being able to run I'd have told you to take a run out of town. I can't quit now. No way. I'll put up with the pain, but I'm not going to stop strengthening my heart and pushing myself to the limit.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Slave to the alarm clock
So I woke up this morning to my radio as per usual but it felt strange. It felt like I hadn't really slept long. Plus, the morning show that I normally wake to was not on. And it seemed a lot darker than normal. I turned on my light anyway and grabbed my watch. My watch said it was 2:30. 2:30?!!? Wha? Had I left it on stopwatch? Why is it that my last though was the logical and correct one--the power had gone off. When it came back on, it made my stereo and TV come on. Bizzare, I know. Possible poltergeist activity. I think I should stay away from the TV for a while. Anyway, the fortunate part of all of this is that at least I didn't sleepwalk into the shower before discovering that I still had three hours of sleep to capitalize on.
I am taking Friday off. Oh no! Will she be grumpy and miserable?! NO! Not this time. I have appointments to attend and possibly a party to plan.
I am taking Friday off. Oh no! Will she be grumpy and miserable?! NO! Not this time. I have appointments to attend and possibly a party to plan.
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Tag?
I'm super behind on my blog reading, never mind my blog writing. So I just got to Kasia's post about getting tagged, where she also tagged me. According to Kasia, this means:
Rules of the tag: List 5 Obsessions/Addictions that you have, and tag back to the person(s) that gave you the award. Post the rules and tag an additional 5 people.
Okay! I like lists! I like the number five! This should be fun. I am going to try to not list the obvious (shoes) here. And I'm not tagging five others. Mostly because I don't know five others.
1. I am obsessed with the radio. I changes stations like mad to find the right song to listen to while driving/getting dressed/dancing around the house, and every night before I go to bed I turn the radio on and will not turn it off until I have heard one good song. I also have a not-so-secret obsession with listening to the Delilah radio show.
2. I am obsessed with cookbooks and I am forever looking for new ones to add to my collection. They must have pictures. The next one I am eyeing is the Company's Coming Slow Cooker Recipes book. Did you know you can make cake in your slow cooker? Oh, I am also a fanatical reader of cooking blogs such as Baking Bites.
3. I am crazy for scents. Favourites include my now out of production lemon meringue lotion, coconut scented sunscreen, my Betsey Johnson perfume and the Abercrombie store (I have a sweater from there that I don't wear because I don't want to have to wash the scent away).
4. Blackberries--as in the actual fruit. I am especially fond of them with some good vanilla yogurt. Oh, and I'm obsessed with pizza. And cookies. And nachos with guacamole.
5. Driving Tyler crazy. I am super good at it too.
Rules of the tag: List 5 Obsessions/Addictions that you have, and tag back to the person(s) that gave you the award. Post the rules and tag an additional 5 people.
Okay! I like lists! I like the number five! This should be fun. I am going to try to not list the obvious (shoes) here. And I'm not tagging five others. Mostly because I don't know five others.
1. I am obsessed with the radio. I changes stations like mad to find the right song to listen to while driving/getting dressed/dancing around the house, and every night before I go to bed I turn the radio on and will not turn it off until I have heard one good song. I also have a not-so-secret obsession with listening to the Delilah radio show.
2. I am obsessed with cookbooks and I am forever looking for new ones to add to my collection. They must have pictures. The next one I am eyeing is the Company's Coming Slow Cooker Recipes book. Did you know you can make cake in your slow cooker? Oh, I am also a fanatical reader of cooking blogs such as Baking Bites.
3. I am crazy for scents. Favourites include my now out of production lemon meringue lotion, coconut scented sunscreen, my Betsey Johnson perfume and the Abercrombie store (I have a sweater from there that I don't wear because I don't want to have to wash the scent away).
4. Blackberries--as in the actual fruit. I am especially fond of them with some good vanilla yogurt. Oh, and I'm obsessed with pizza. And cookies. And nachos with guacamole.
5. Driving Tyler crazy. I am super good at it too.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Time to get my hip-waders on. I think I am in high waters again.
Good-Wooden Leg often reminds me of high school. We have sports teams, clubs, a choir, and it feels kind of lame to sit by yourself in the cafeteria.
I was a joiner in my school years. I did career committee, yearbook, badminton, curling, and I was in charge of advertising for the sports awards luncheon (which subsequently lead me to consider a career in the field).
My joiner spirit carries on, mostly motivated now by the desire to gain experience useful to my career. I recently put my name in for a volunteer position on the Staff Club Executive Committee, the team that manages all the teams and clubs at Good-Wooden. It was serious business: I had to send in a resume and get my leaders to give their blessings on this endeavor.
I was deemed worthy and accepted to take on the role of Information Coordinator. (You have no idea how hard it is to spell "coordinator" without a hyphen. Good-Wooden's style guide is under my skin, but apparently the Staff Club does not follow it.)
My impression of the Information Coordinator was someone who sent out e-mails to the department staff reps letting them know that registration for the hockey team was starting, or the date and details of the Children's Christmas Party. Some mention was made of updating things on the internal website.
Hahahahaha.
I had my orientation today with the outgoing Information Coordinator. Yes, I will send out e-mails, but I also have mailboxes and a calendar to manage for all the other staff club executives. And the website? Oh it's not just type and post like I do when I blog or update the Red Shoe House site. I have to work in HTML, and send things to a server, and oye. I'm a smart girl, I can do this, but it's going to take some time.
At my first meeting today that followed my orientation people were asking last year's Info guy if he could set something up for them, get something posted, set up a security level, blah blah blah. Oh dear I hope he leaves me some good notes.
On another note, someone brought up a communication piece they sent out that didn't really work. I think they thought that if they put it on green paper, added a picture, and ensured it was delivered to every staff member's mailbox, that it would get read and the phones would ring. Green paper does not a communications piece make. Now that, I know.
So maybe I won't be able to bring the same skills to the table that the last guy did, but hopefully my other strengths and knowledge will shine through and prove helpful.
And if not, well, I get to enjoy some free fancy lunches and two free tickets to the company dinner and dance (!!)
I was a joiner in my school years. I did career committee, yearbook, badminton, curling, and I was in charge of advertising for the sports awards luncheon (which subsequently lead me to consider a career in the field).
My joiner spirit carries on, mostly motivated now by the desire to gain experience useful to my career. I recently put my name in for a volunteer position on the Staff Club Executive Committee, the team that manages all the teams and clubs at Good-Wooden. It was serious business: I had to send in a resume and get my leaders to give their blessings on this endeavor.
I was deemed worthy and accepted to take on the role of Information Coordinator. (You have no idea how hard it is to spell "coordinator" without a hyphen. Good-Wooden's style guide is under my skin, but apparently the Staff Club does not follow it.)
My impression of the Information Coordinator was someone who sent out e-mails to the department staff reps letting them know that registration for the hockey team was starting, or the date and details of the Children's Christmas Party. Some mention was made of updating things on the internal website.
Hahahahaha.
I had my orientation today with the outgoing Information Coordinator. Yes, I will send out e-mails, but I also have mailboxes and a calendar to manage for all the other staff club executives. And the website? Oh it's not just type and post like I do when I blog or update the Red Shoe House site. I have to work in HTML, and send things to a server, and oye. I'm a smart girl, I can do this, but it's going to take some time.
At my first meeting today that followed my orientation people were asking last year's Info guy if he could set something up for them, get something posted, set up a security level, blah blah blah. Oh dear I hope he leaves me some good notes.
On another note, someone brought up a communication piece they sent out that didn't really work. I think they thought that if they put it on green paper, added a picture, and ensured it was delivered to every staff member's mailbox, that it would get read and the phones would ring. Green paper does not a communications piece make. Now that, I know.
So maybe I won't be able to bring the same skills to the table that the last guy did, but hopefully my other strengths and knowledge will shine through and prove helpful.
And if not, well, I get to enjoy some free fancy lunches and two free tickets to the company dinner and dance (!!)
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Hello, Vacation
I am on vacation.
I was preparing all week at work for my two-week absence. I didn't get done all the things I had aimed to. With only 30 minutes left in the day, I was feeling pretty anxious trying to get together all my files to leave for Head Two to look after while I was gone. The work just kept coming in, I couldn't keep up. This was why I desperately needed a vacation. Frankly, I'm scared about what I might come back to.
I was late getting out and missed my bus home. Boo. But I did eventually get out of there. When I swung open the door to my house I smiled and said, "hello, Vacation."
There was work to do.
I threw some things into my overnight bag in preparation for my weekend with the girls at the family cottage. Then I swung over to my parents' place to pick up a cooler and some things from my mom's garden.
I got the rest of the food together and had about an hour to go before Lisa would arrive to pick me up. Lauren had invited me and Gus over for drinks to celebrate her last day at IG. It was our last day taking the bus together. I'm going to miss her.
I had started to relax once I left the office, but as Lisa and I hit the road to the lake, I could feel the anxiety levels creeping up again. I love spending time at the cottage, and I love having other people up there, but I was worried I was forgetting something, or that my keys wouldn't work, or that Judy and Tonia would get lost, or that there wouldn't be any toilet paper out there.
"We have food and vodka in the car," Lisa pointed out. "If worse comes to worse, we can live off of that."
The keys worked, Tonia and Judy found the place okay, but believe it or not, there was a toilet paper shortage. Luckily, the corner store only charges $.89 per roll.
That may have been my last trip up to the cottage. My grandma keeps talking about selling the place. It was supposed to go this year, and now it's supposed to go next spring (but my mom says she's waffling again). I tried to take it all in, just in case. So much has changed though.
For one thing, technology has moved in. When I went to turn the power on at the panel, it was too dark to see which breakers were on and which ones were off. There used to be this big, old flashlight by the door, but it wasn't there. So I improvised and grabbed my cell phone. Together with Lisa's we managed to figure out which switches needed flipping. (It wouldn't have been so dangerous if it were not for the fact that the hot water heaters are electrical and can't be turned on until they have been filled with water.)
Later, we walked to the corner store, which, to my surprise, has been totally rebuilt. There's a little corner now where people can sit with a cup of coffee and surf the Internet or check their e-mail on their laptops. Yeah, the corner store at the lake where I used to buy a Ring Pop for a quarter now has WiFi and a flat screen TV.
On Saturday we walked down to the beach. It was super wavy, but the water was high and there wasn't much beach left to walk on. Hopefully it's just a bad year.
I decided that I cannot speak freely about this girls weekend here. For one thing, some of the best moments were "you had to be there" funny. I also want to respect the fact that maybe my girlfriends who also happen to be my co-workers, would rather I didn't post all the details.
Here are the anonymous highlights:
I nearly choked.
I heart ?
I was preparing all week at work for my two-week absence. I didn't get done all the things I had aimed to. With only 30 minutes left in the day, I was feeling pretty anxious trying to get together all my files to leave for Head Two to look after while I was gone. The work just kept coming in, I couldn't keep up. This was why I desperately needed a vacation. Frankly, I'm scared about what I might come back to.
I was late getting out and missed my bus home. Boo. But I did eventually get out of there. When I swung open the door to my house I smiled and said, "hello, Vacation."
There was work to do.
I threw some things into my overnight bag in preparation for my weekend with the girls at the family cottage. Then I swung over to my parents' place to pick up a cooler and some things from my mom's garden.
I got the rest of the food together and had about an hour to go before Lisa would arrive to pick me up. Lauren had invited me and Gus over for drinks to celebrate her last day at IG. It was our last day taking the bus together. I'm going to miss her.
I had started to relax once I left the office, but as Lisa and I hit the road to the lake, I could feel the anxiety levels creeping up again. I love spending time at the cottage, and I love having other people up there, but I was worried I was forgetting something, or that my keys wouldn't work, or that Judy and Tonia would get lost, or that there wouldn't be any toilet paper out there."We have food and vodka in the car," Lisa pointed out. "If worse comes to worse, we can live off of that."
The keys worked, Tonia and Judy found the place okay, but believe it or not, there was a toilet paper shortage. Luckily, the corner store only charges $.89 per roll.
That may have been my last trip up to the cottage. My grandma keeps talking about selling the place. It was supposed to go this year, and now it's supposed to go next spring (but my mom says she's waffling again). I tried to take it all in, just in case. So much has changed though.For one thing, technology has moved in. When I went to turn the power on at the panel, it was too dark to see which breakers were on and which ones were off. There used to be this big, old flashlight by the door, but it wasn't there. So I improvised and grabbed my cell phone. Together with Lisa's we managed to figure out which switches needed flipping. (It wouldn't have been so dangerous if it were not for the fact that the hot water heaters are electrical and can't be turned on until they have been filled with water.)
Later, we walked to the corner store, which, to my surprise, has been totally rebuilt. There's a little corner now where people can sit with a cup of coffee and surf the Internet or check their e-mail on their laptops. Yeah, the corner store at the lake where I used to buy a Ring Pop for a quarter now has WiFi and a flat screen TV.
On Saturday we walked down to the beach. It was super wavy, but the water was high and there wasn't much beach left to walk on. Hopefully it's just a bad year.
I decided that I cannot speak freely about this girls weekend here. For one thing, some of the best moments were "you had to be there" funny. I also want to respect the fact that maybe my girlfriends who also happen to be my co-workers, would rather I didn't post all the details.
Here are the anonymous highlights:
- "You have to turn up the volume with a knob?"--watching DVD movies on the ancient 25" TV.
- Look, a heart-shaped potato chip!
- and in response to the find, "if it looked like Jesus you could sell it on eBay"
- "This is what happens when winemakers and engineers hang out together"
- "Grab the dangley bits"
- And after the discussion about "dangley bits", the line, "well what did you think we'd talk about on a girls weekend? Knitting?"
- Officer Mike--"and yes, I'm single"
- Watching Knocked Up while playing a drinking game where we had to drink every time someone swore:
"Hey, Doc Howard. Ben Stone calling. Guess what the f***’s up? Alison’s going into labor and you are not f***ing here. Now, where are you? You’re at a f***ing Bar Mitzvah in San Francisco, you motherf***ing piece of sh*t! And you know I’m going to have to do now? I’m going to have to kill you. I’m going to have to pop a cap in your ass. You’re dead! You’re Tupac! You are f***ing Biggie, you piece of sh*t! I hope you f***ing die or drop the f***ing chair and kill that f***ing kid! Hope your plane crashes. Peace, f***er!"
I nearly choked.
I heart ?
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
The Jill brand: charming, engaging and darn lucky
I decided today to register my domain name, www.ajillstory.com. Before setting it up, I did some research, including Googling "ajillstory". I happened upon a thesis paper someone wrote that cited my blog as an example in her discussion on women's diaries and weblogs. I was immediately intrigued.
The Arts grad student described me as a young woman who writes about my adventures in embarking on a career, buying Truck, looking for my house and avoiding jury duty (Beattie 70). She gathers that most of my readers are likely the same friends I often write about, but my "charm and engaging writing style make my [her] blog enjoyable even for complete strangers" (Beattie).
You hear that? Charming and engaging. As I walked home in the rain from the store, these words put a warm and fuzzy tingle in my heart. I kind of needed that today.
Back at home, I pulled out my barbecue with plans of cooking a hamburger for supper. Dad and I put the thing together two weeks ago and I used it for the first time yesterday to grill a pork chop.
It's tricky to light. I had to give it a few tries last night before it got going. Tonight it was later by the time I got started, and despite the endorphins floating around in my blood from the flattering review, I was not feeling very patient to play around with getting the thing lit. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands and stick a lighter in the side.
It worked. Perfectly. I heard a whoosh and then a crackle. Crackle? Yes, crackle. It took maybe a second for me to realize the whoosh was from the grill, but the crackle was from me--I had singed my hair!
I ran inside to check the damages. My bangs on the right side had been touched along with my eyelashes. Oh dear. Oh my. Thankfully, my hair is a bit long right now and my hair style a bit ragged, so I cut off the damaged ends without making it look noticeable. I'm not sure about my eyelashes though. I'm hoping if I wear mascara nobody will see the difference. I still have eyelashes, they're just a bit shorter, blunt, and white on the ends. Thank God my contact didn't melt to my eyeball or something.
Charming indeed. Sometimes I have moments of brilliance, and sometimes I just have moments. I promise you, faithful readers (and I appreciate you all) life at ajillstory is never dull.
The Arts grad student described me as a young woman who writes about my adventures in embarking on a career, buying Truck, looking for my house and avoiding jury duty (Beattie 70). She gathers that most of my readers are likely the same friends I often write about, but my "charm and engaging writing style make my [her] blog enjoyable even for complete strangers" (Beattie).
You hear that? Charming and engaging. As I walked home in the rain from the store, these words put a warm and fuzzy tingle in my heart. I kind of needed that today.
Back at home, I pulled out my barbecue with plans of cooking a hamburger for supper. Dad and I put the thing together two weeks ago and I used it for the first time yesterday to grill a pork chop.
It's tricky to light. I had to give it a few tries last night before it got going. Tonight it was later by the time I got started, and despite the endorphins floating around in my blood from the flattering review, I was not feeling very patient to play around with getting the thing lit. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands and stick a lighter in the side.
It worked. Perfectly. I heard a whoosh and then a crackle. Crackle? Yes, crackle. It took maybe a second for me to realize the whoosh was from the grill, but the crackle was from me--I had singed my hair!
I ran inside to check the damages. My bangs on the right side had been touched along with my eyelashes. Oh dear. Oh my. Thankfully, my hair is a bit long right now and my hair style a bit ragged, so I cut off the damaged ends without making it look noticeable. I'm not sure about my eyelashes though. I'm hoping if I wear mascara nobody will see the difference. I still have eyelashes, they're just a bit shorter, blunt, and white on the ends. Thank God my contact didn't melt to my eyeball or something.
Charming indeed. Sometimes I have moments of brilliance, and sometimes I just have moments. I promise you, faithful readers (and I appreciate you all) life at ajillstory is never dull.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
You're so vain. You probably think this post is about you.
Jill: Why do people [who have my e-mail/phone number/offline access to me] read my blog but don't ever talk to me?
Vince: They want to see if you write about them.
Really? Vanity? Is that what it is? Tell me no. Tell me you're better than that. I just don't (want to) believe that is true.
I look at my stats once in a while to see how people get to this place. There are always funny ones. Like, I get a lot of traffic from people googling "foxy boxing" because I used the term once, here. I also get hits from people looking for Carmen San Diego, Jeannie's Cake, and "girl wet pants story". People are weird.
At least most of my hits come from people googling "(a) jill story" or "jill b@rr0tt", although people searching for me by name kind of concerns me. I mean, who's out there looking for me anyway? I try to carefully maintain some anonymity with anyone I meet on the Internet because as soon as they have my name, I know they can google me and find all sorts of goodies.
I am kind of interested in knowing who reads this thing. I'm a writer, I have an ego. So if you do read, or if you just got here because you googled "foxy boxing in San Diego", please leave a comment and say hi. You can keep your anonymity if you wish, but geeze, you know (or have the potential of knowing, if you poke around enough) everything about me from my shoe size to the color of my bedroom, it would be a fair trade if you'd give me some indication as to who you are. Especially if you're one of those "wet pants girl" people. Then again, maybe not...
I really do appreciate those who do read regularly. It's very nice of you. I try to keep things interesting for you.
Thanks for dropping by!
Monday, December 31, 2007
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
Yes, I changed the template on my blog (I'm talking to those of you who don't use a reader and therefore actually see my shining face everytime you settle in for another episode of A Jill Story). I wanted to start 2008 with a new look, or at least a fresh one, given that my old template looked like it was from 1985. Yes, that picture at the top is large (I kind of like it that way; it looks like the cover of a book). But I will continue to tweak and adjust this week.
Thanks for dropping by!
Thanks for dropping by!
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