If you're single in New York City, in the year 2011, you are probably no stranger to the phenomenon of online dating. The kind of awesome thing about online dating is that you are meeting people who you would otherwise not normally meet. The not so awesome thing about online dating is that some of these people that you're meeting are freaks. Whether you are on a dating website, or you know someone that is on one, you are aware of the impact that online dating has on 2000's dating culture. However, what I'd be willing to bet that you don't know is all of the mysterious intricacies that lie within this realm of dating. Some of these dating stories come from my own experiences, and some are from friends. All of these dating tales share one thing in common. They make you ask yourself--Why me?
A good friend of mine is currently on Jdate. She was e-mailing back and forth with a guy that had checked out her profile. This particular guy seemed a little bit socially off to her through his e-mails, but she thought--okay, I'll give this guy a chance. (I'm sorry ladies, but if his e-mails are weird, then he's probably weird too). As a way to break the ice about taking their relationship from e-mail to the phone, this guy asked my friend to rate her conversational skills on scale of 1-10. Yes, he actually asked that, and expected an actual numeric response. This should have been a big red flag to fore go the phone conversation immediately. But, my friend proceeded with the phone call. Once on the phone, the first question he asked her was, "Do you have a police record?" IS THIS REALLY THE CALIBER OF MEN THAT WE ARE EXPECTED TO DATE?!
A couple of years ago after a brief stint on Jdate, I left the website after a three date dating disaster. I went out with the same guy three times, and after our third date, I knew that it needed to end. After sending an "I'm sorry, this is not going to work out text," we went our separate ways. Two years later, on a different dating website, this same guy found my profile, and e-mailed me, "You are so cute, I would love to have the chance to meet you!" Mmhmm. You did meet me. And, you paid for three of my meals. Idiot.
Another strange phenomenon on Jdate is pen-paling. This one literally boggles my mind. If you are on a dating website, it means that you are looking to date. Right!? At the very least, it means you are looking to get some booty. And, you can't do any of those things unless you meet in person. My friends and I have all experienced this one: Guys will e-mail back and forth with you. They will even text and call you continuously, but they never initiate plans to actually meet you in real life. I already have plenty of people that I like to converse with via phone, text and gchat. I do not need to be doing this with a stranger who has no intentions of meeting me. In one instance I e-mailed back and forth with one guy seven or eight times. He was clearly interested in talking to me, as he continued to ask questions, and "laugh" at my e-mail banter. I finally said to myself, enough was enough. I decided to take the reigns on this one. I wrote him an e-mail and included my phone number, writing that we should get drinks this week. His next e-mail back was, "Oh Lauren, you're so funny." Yep, wasn't being funny with that one.
My personal favorite (and by favorite, I actually mean the worst date that I've ever been on in my life) was with a guy who looked nothing like his pictures. I am not shallow. Okay, I am thirty-eight percent shallow. Looks are not everything, but they do count for something. The man in his pictures was breathtaking, and shirtless. (Shirtless pics are a big no-no, in my book. But this man looked THAT good). The man that I met? Not so much. He was a good fifty pounds heavier than his pictures, and bald. Perhaps these pictures were taken of him in 1998? I am not sure. But, when he arrived at the bar, he looked nothing like his pictures, and I didn't recognize him. When he walked over to me and said, "Lauren?" I thought he was the host asking to seat me. Whoops.
Online first date booty calls. Not okay. I am not knocking booty calls. If you are single, they are needed, and serve a wonderful purpose. It is one thing to meet up with someone late at night who you know. But, it is quite another thing for someone to suggest a first date meeting at one am on a Saturday night. No, I am not meeting you at one am, after seven Bacardi and diet cokes. With all of these disasters why do I continue? Well, it's simple really. I continue for all of the people out there who have actually met someone they really care about. Apparently, these websites really work! And, as my mom says, "it only takes one..."
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Sweetheart's Big Day
You all heard the tale back in January of 2010. I spent the end of my 26th birthday in the emergency room, with twelve stitches, and one broken pinkie finger. My great friend, Matt Rockoff fed me cheeseburgers from McDonald's as a homeless woman cried next to us in the hospital. It was quite the eventful end to my birthday. Since that time, my pinkie has transformed from mutant, with no hope of recovery, to a little bit less than mutant, and falls somewhere in the permanently deformed, deranged category. It's been fifteen months since that fateful day, and one thing has remained the same...until now.
Every time that I go to get a manicure, I always have to get nine out of ten fingernails painted. (And, no. I do not get a discount). Each time it is the same ritual. The nail lady goes to paint my pinkie nail, looks away in horror when she sees the shape of my finger, and that it is lacking a real nail, as she hastily moves right along to my ring finger. For the first time in fifteen months, Sweetheart (my pinkie named by Meelz), was able to be painted, just like all of my other fingers. I have ten painted fingernails. And, even though the shape of Sweetheart is still deformed, and she doesn't quite look right...this really is Sweetheart's big day.
Every time that I go to get a manicure, I always have to get nine out of ten fingernails painted. (And, no. I do not get a discount). Each time it is the same ritual. The nail lady goes to paint my pinkie nail, looks away in horror when she sees the shape of my finger, and that it is lacking a real nail, as she hastily moves right along to my ring finger. For the first time in fifteen months, Sweetheart (my pinkie named by Meelz), was able to be painted, just like all of my other fingers. I have ten painted fingernails. And, even though the shape of Sweetheart is still deformed, and she doesn't quite look right...this really is Sweetheart's big day.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Talent Show
This morning was the third and fourth grade talent show. To say that this was an hour filled with pure comedic genius would be an understatement. (Though I do not think that was the intention of this particular group of eight, nine and ten year olds). We heard and saw it all from singing, dancing, karate instruction, lego demonstrations, comedy acts and magic tricks. This group of kids have talent! (Or do they?)
My personal highlights included one student's rendition of Taio Cruz's, Dynamite. This student was dressed in a full suit, as he sang his heart out, while Dynamite played in the background. His dance moves that accompanied the song were almost as good as his singing. For your information: Trying to keep a straight face during this performance was one of the top five hardest things I've ever done in my life.
Then there was the Don't Stop Believing sing along by Journey, led by three of the girls from my class. And, we can't forget "soccer tricks." One student awkwardly standing in front of the audience bouncing a soccer ball off of his head, repeatedly, for about six minutes. And, every time he bounced the ball off of his head, the audience would cheer. Every. Single. Time.
Two of my students dressed up in mummy costumes and bobbed for apples. I have no idea why they decided to do this in mummy costumes, or why they decided that bobbing for apples is considered a talent. But, to each their own, I always say.
And, perhaps greatest of all, the final act, one of my students did "hip-hop" dancing. He jerked his body across the stage as Rappers Delight played over the speakers. I have never laughed so hard in my life. I did not even try to keep a straight face. It was unbelievable. His body contortions were out of this world, and he ended the dance on his head, his glasses crooked on his face. Oh, how I love working at this school.
My personal highlights included one student's rendition of Taio Cruz's, Dynamite. This student was dressed in a full suit, as he sang his heart out, while Dynamite played in the background. His dance moves that accompanied the song were almost as good as his singing. For your information: Trying to keep a straight face during this performance was one of the top five hardest things I've ever done in my life.
Then there was the Don't Stop Believing sing along by Journey, led by three of the girls from my class. And, we can't forget "soccer tricks." One student awkwardly standing in front of the audience bouncing a soccer ball off of his head, repeatedly, for about six minutes. And, every time he bounced the ball off of his head, the audience would cheer. Every. Single. Time.
Two of my students dressed up in mummy costumes and bobbed for apples. I have no idea why they decided to do this in mummy costumes, or why they decided that bobbing for apples is considered a talent. But, to each their own, I always say.
And, perhaps greatest of all, the final act, one of my students did "hip-hop" dancing. He jerked his body across the stage as Rappers Delight played over the speakers. I have never laughed so hard in my life. I did not even try to keep a straight face. It was unbelievable. His body contortions were out of this world, and he ended the dance on his head, his glasses crooked on his face. Oh, how I love working at this school.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Katiekiwi, Caitling and KSass
Sometimes, you just gotta count your lucky stars that certain people were brought into your life. As Katy Perry once said, "I'll never be the same, if we ever meet again." And, it's true. I'll never be the same. (I'm not quite sure if that's what she meant in her song lyric, but I'll take any excuse to quote Katy Perry). This blog is about three special galz in no particular order. There names are Katie, Kerry and Caitlin. OmG!! So cute, right!!? Katiekiwi, K. Sassypantz, and Caitling are three of my best friends from college. My college friends don't get nearly enough credit in my blog, so here I go sistas!
The instant that Katiekiwi and I met, I knew I had met a best friend for life. A friendship soulmate. Katie was the first girl I met in college who had similar life experiences to me. We even joked that our group of friends from home were the same. (We both had a hot Indian girlfriend in our group). Katie and I would walk to dinner together, and I would always run home afterwards. You know how those dining hall meals go right through you! From freshman year, until, well...forever. Katie remains one of my top five most fun friends. You can ask her to do just about anything, and she'll do it. "Hey Katie, go make out with that boy in the corner?" Okay. "Hey Katie, Accidentally crawl naked into your roommate's bed while she has a boy in it?" Sure, no problem. But, most importantly, not only is Katie always up for anything, she will do anything for you. She is an unbelievable friend. And, don't think that I don't know how lucky I am to have found her.
I met Caitling the very first night of freshman year. I liked her instantly because she was the best dressed out of everyone that I was with. The mere fact that Caitling and I are still friends today after sharing a room together in BURNside during our sophomore year at URI, is a sheer miracle in itself. I decorated our entire room in rainbows, woke up early every single morning to watch 90210 (Pre Soapnet and DVR), and would unpack her bags after she returned from a long trip. Despite all this, we are still besties. In fact--we are better friends than ever. She is my # 1 G-chatter, (one of the first names that I search for on my list). Caitling has repeatedly offered me advice time and time again, (even when I make the same mistakes time and time again). If I don't say it enough, (and I'm sure that I don't), Thank you, Lingers.
I met Kerry my sophomore year of college. I was on the lacrosse team, and she was one of the new freshman that I was expected to "initiate." On one ten hour bus ride to a tournament in Pittsburgh, Kerry and I became friends. After she wiped one of her boogers on me during the bus ride, I knew that I loved her. Kerry and I recently took a class at NYSC together. It was a "cardio-video" dance class. The description of this class was learning a dance to pop music. This seemed perfect, and right up our alley. What the gym, and it's website didn't specify, was that the class was actually made up of a semi-professional dance troop. The class that we came to one Tuesday night was their "final rehearsal." There we were, in the back of the class, arms flailing trying to keep up with the rest of the class. But, it was impossible. After twenty minutes, we made a break for the door. And, we never looked back. Ksass and I have bonded over Tasti-Delight, our love for Kelly Clarkson and awkward New York Sports Club experiences. When I lost my driver's license during my senior year of college, she bought me my infamous pink bike. And, well...if that's not friendship, then I don't know what is.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Spring.
This weekend I experienced one of my most favorite joys as a New York City resident; the long, awaited return of the outdoor table. On Friday afternoon, I walked home from my Physique fifty-seven(uhhh) class in just shorts and a t-shirt. On my walk home, I saw tables and chairs outside of restaurants, lining the streets once more. There is less room on the sidewalks to walk, but I'll take this any day. I am thrilled to put the winter behind me. Good riddance winter. I never liked you much anyways.
While enjoying the spring air, I went for a run with my BGbabe. As we talked and ran, I told my Becca a quote that I had heard from a different Becky in my life. My other Becky quoted something that Albert Einstein had once said. (We are getting wise in our old age). A quote so fitting for me, that it's almost frightening. The quote is this: "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting a different outcome."
Oh my. I do this in almost all aspects of my life. According to Einstein, I am most definitely insane. And, so I wonder. How many of you are too?
On Friday, I had one of those days at school where I felt truly lucky to work where I do. Unfortunately, these feelings are not always first and foremost on my mind when I wake up at six-thirty am on some idle weekday morning. But, I'm working on it.
I am surrounded by an energetic, entertaining group of children, each weekday for six and a half hours each day. Every Friday we have extra "yard" time. This means that the kids have an extra half hour of designated time to play outside. It was a gorgeous morning. Watching the kids run around the playground, I took my ipod out. I pulled my headphones off, and used the ipod as my own miniature boombox. The first note of Ke$ha's, We R Who We R boomed, and the girls in my class came running. We listened to Katy Perry, Lady Gaga and The Black Eyed Peas. As the girls sang along with my music, I smiled. They were so adorable, and so normal, singing and dancing to music. In that moment, I didn't feel like their teacher. I felt like their cool aunt. And, well. We r who we r? Right?
Later that day as math class was ending, I wished everyone a good weekend as I dismissed the class. Most of my students bounded for the door. A couple of them high fived me on their way out. But, Jon my one second grade student that I teach in math, slipped his arm around my waist, and hugged his body towards mine. He is tiny, and his head comes up just slightly past my belly button. It was a gesture, so spontaneous, and so genuine that it made me remember why I like kids in the first place. They mean well, they really do.
And, more importantly; they say what they mean, and they say how they feel. It's simple. If they like you, they will let you know it. If they don't, well you will probably know that too. But, there is no confusion, and no gray area. It is what it is. And that is, is understood by everyone. It is a refreshing change of pace.
Sometimes, all of the political, financial, and crappy stuff that comes along with teaching as a profession, makes forgetting all of the positive aspects of this job a little bit easier. And, more than just having a summer vacation, or ending your day end at three pm, it can almost be easy to forget the real perk of this job. And, that is this: You are actually making a positive difference in someone's life. And, if you're lucky--you'll make more than just one. It's a feeling so good, and so real, that it almost...makes me forget that according to Albert Einstein, I may actually be insane...
While enjoying the spring air, I went for a run with my BGbabe. As we talked and ran, I told my Becca a quote that I had heard from a different Becky in my life. My other Becky quoted something that Albert Einstein had once said. (We are getting wise in our old age). A quote so fitting for me, that it's almost frightening. The quote is this: "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting a different outcome."
Oh my. I do this in almost all aspects of my life. According to Einstein, I am most definitely insane. And, so I wonder. How many of you are too?
On Friday, I had one of those days at school where I felt truly lucky to work where I do. Unfortunately, these feelings are not always first and foremost on my mind when I wake up at six-thirty am on some idle weekday morning. But, I'm working on it.
I am surrounded by an energetic, entertaining group of children, each weekday for six and a half hours each day. Every Friday we have extra "yard" time. This means that the kids have an extra half hour of designated time to play outside. It was a gorgeous morning. Watching the kids run around the playground, I took my ipod out. I pulled my headphones off, and used the ipod as my own miniature boombox. The first note of Ke$ha's, We R Who We R boomed, and the girls in my class came running. We listened to Katy Perry, Lady Gaga and The Black Eyed Peas. As the girls sang along with my music, I smiled. They were so adorable, and so normal, singing and dancing to music. In that moment, I didn't feel like their teacher. I felt like their cool aunt. And, well. We r who we r? Right?
Later that day as math class was ending, I wished everyone a good weekend as I dismissed the class. Most of my students bounded for the door. A couple of them high fived me on their way out. But, Jon my one second grade student that I teach in math, slipped his arm around my waist, and hugged his body towards mine. He is tiny, and his head comes up just slightly past my belly button. It was a gesture, so spontaneous, and so genuine that it made me remember why I like kids in the first place. They mean well, they really do.
And, more importantly; they say what they mean, and they say how they feel. It's simple. If they like you, they will let you know it. If they don't, well you will probably know that too. But, there is no confusion, and no gray area. It is what it is. And that is, is understood by everyone. It is a refreshing change of pace.
Sometimes, all of the political, financial, and crappy stuff that comes along with teaching as a profession, makes forgetting all of the positive aspects of this job a little bit easier. And, more than just having a summer vacation, or ending your day end at three pm, it can almost be easy to forget the real perk of this job. And, that is this: You are actually making a positive difference in someone's life. And, if you're lucky--you'll make more than just one. It's a feeling so good, and so real, that it almost...makes me forget that according to Albert Einstein, I may actually be insane...
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Spoilers
I love reading spoilers. You could even say that I live for spoilers. My friends always ask me why I like to ruin shows for myself. But, I don't see reading the spoilers as "ruining the show." Instead, I feel that I am only enhancing my knowledge of the television shows that I like. Reading spoilers truly adds to my overall enjoyment and excitement of the show. This is part of who I am. I like to know what is coming next. I like the speculation and the predictions. I rely on spoilers to provide me with accurate information (and spoils) for all of my favorite television shows. And, just in case you wondered; My favorite spoiler websites are The Ausiello Report and Reality Steve. But, last night something unheard of in the world of spoilers occurred. The spoilers were wrong! Reality Steve, you've wronged me.
When the Bachelor began back in January, I looked up the spoilers almost immediately. After all, I didn't want to get invested in anyone that was leaving the show too quickly. The spoilers told me who the winner would be. However, for the first time in spoiler history. (Or atleast, my spoiler history), Reality Steve was wrong. His website announced that Brad Womack would choose Chantale as the final recipient of the rose, and the winner of Bachelor Brad's heart. But in fact, this information was incorrect. She came close, (second choice), but in the end, Brad chose blonde Southern belle, Emily. (Who may actually have the whitest teeth that I have ever seen on a human). The incorrect spoilers have changed everything for me. It will make me look at spoilers in a whole new light. Will this incident stop me from reading future spoilers? No, never. But, like a girl who's heart and trust have been broken by a boy, I may never fully believe in spoilers again.
When the Bachelor began back in January, I looked up the spoilers almost immediately. After all, I didn't want to get invested in anyone that was leaving the show too quickly. The spoilers told me who the winner would be. However, for the first time in spoiler history. (Or atleast, my spoiler history), Reality Steve was wrong. His website announced that Brad Womack would choose Chantale as the final recipient of the rose, and the winner of Bachelor Brad's heart. But in fact, this information was incorrect. She came close, (second choice), but in the end, Brad chose blonde Southern belle, Emily. (Who may actually have the whitest teeth that I have ever seen on a human). The incorrect spoilers have changed everything for me. It will make me look at spoilers in a whole new light. Will this incident stop me from reading future spoilers? No, never. But, like a girl who's heart and trust have been broken by a boy, I may never fully believe in spoilers again.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Date-ing
When it comes to dating, does the golden rule, (do unto others as you would have done to you), apply?
Ever gone on a date with someone that you are just not that into? But, despite the fact that you may not feel an overwhelming chemistry, you have a decent enough time that you talk yourself into going out with the person again. After the second date, it very clear. You are not feeling this. After the date ends, you pray that this person will fade away into the abyss. But, of course, they do not. You are contacted, and asked out again. (It's never the ones that we want to hear from, right ladies!?)
Here's the thing: You don't have a real interest in dating this person again. You gave it a shot, and you are not looking to waste anyone's time. What do you do? Well. Here are the three basic options that my friends and I have experienced.
A). Ignore this person's calls and texts. (Personally, I find choice A to be incredibly rude, do not wish to be treated this way, and would not treat anyone this way in return).
B). Give some lame-ass, I can see right through you response. We've all heard or given these excuses. "Things are really crazy with work right now." (NAH!! Not buying it). This falls into the same category as "It's not you, it's me." Nope, sorry. It is you. Because, if I liked you enough, I would make it my beeswax to see you.
C). Man or woMan up. And, tell the truth. You tell the person that you're not interested in continuing this. Choice C is clearly the most difficult to do, but in reality--it is the most honest, the least likely to lead someone on, (and would be the choice that I would prefer to hear).
It's tough, and we have all been on both sides of this. When we like someone, and want to hang out with him/her, we feel hopeful. We want to buy into the lame-o responses that we are given. We think that just maybe we are the exception. Maybe, (s)he really is busy...
Either way, it sucks to be let down. It sucks to let someone down. So, while I am no dating expert, it's hard not to think about this. And, I can't help but wonder if I'm meant to be spending my nights dating people that I kind of never want to see again. Going forward, I'll be gentle, and I'll be honest. And, I can only hope for the same in return.
Ever gone on a date with someone that you are just not that into? But, despite the fact that you may not feel an overwhelming chemistry, you have a decent enough time that you talk yourself into going out with the person again. After the second date, it very clear. You are not feeling this. After the date ends, you pray that this person will fade away into the abyss. But, of course, they do not. You are contacted, and asked out again. (It's never the ones that we want to hear from, right ladies!?)
Here's the thing: You don't have a real interest in dating this person again. You gave it a shot, and you are not looking to waste anyone's time. What do you do? Well. Here are the three basic options that my friends and I have experienced.
A). Ignore this person's calls and texts. (Personally, I find choice A to be incredibly rude, do not wish to be treated this way, and would not treat anyone this way in return).
B). Give some lame-ass, I can see right through you response. We've all heard or given these excuses. "Things are really crazy with work right now." (NAH!! Not buying it). This falls into the same category as "It's not you, it's me." Nope, sorry. It is you. Because, if I liked you enough, I would make it my beeswax to see you.
C). Man or woMan up. And, tell the truth. You tell the person that you're not interested in continuing this. Choice C is clearly the most difficult to do, but in reality--it is the most honest, the least likely to lead someone on, (and would be the choice that I would prefer to hear).
It's tough, and we have all been on both sides of this. When we like someone, and want to hang out with him/her, we feel hopeful. We want to buy into the lame-o responses that we are given. We think that just maybe we are the exception. Maybe, (s)he really is busy...
Either way, it sucks to be let down. It sucks to let someone down. So, while I am no dating expert, it's hard not to think about this. And, I can't help but wonder if I'm meant to be spending my nights dating people that I kind of never want to see again. Going forward, I'll be gentle, and I'll be honest. And, I can only hope for the same in return.
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