Thursday, November 30, 2006

I get by with a little help from The Queen!

I'm kind of a collector. Always have been. As a kid I collected comic books, 45's (ask your parents what they are) and Taco Bell commemorative Looney Tunes glasses to name a few. The older I got the more things I've collected: shot glasses and martini glasses (yet I don't drink -- I'm an enigma.), CDs (like 45's but longer and shinier), things with moons on them and Muppets action figures. (just skimming the surface -- don't get me started here.)

But of all the things which I collect I'd say the best, coolest, most impressive and most valuable collection is my friends. I have friends I've known since they were 3, 4, 5 years old! Friends from Jr. high school. Friends from highschool. I've lost some friends and then found them again! Seriously, my collection of friends just rocks, and some of them are really hard to find. For instance, I've got the rare "friend which you had a seriously bad blow out with, where both sides felt totally betrayed, and yet you are still friends" friend and the "to this day many people think that the friend had a crush on you, though there have only been denials about it" friend; rare enough on it's own, but when paired as a set with my "you had a major crush but never got a chance to tell before they met the love of their life" friend and the collection is just about complete!

One friend showed me her love by asking me to be there for the most important moment of her life so far: the birth of her child. We call the little bean Princess Stinkbutt (among 40 skillion nicknames coined in the last 2 years!)

But today I'm talking about The Queen. Princess Stinkbutt's mom, who is one of those friends in my collection. She's also one I lost for a time. I put her down in a city clear across the country and someone moved her when I wasn't looking. I asked around to see if anyone knew what I'd done with her, and sometimes other friends would tell me where the saw her last, but she was never there when I went back for her. And then I was stupid and stopped looking. And f*cking years passed.

But then one time I turned around and there she was, practically exactly where I'd left her in the first place! And we did that impossible thing of not only rekindling the connection but making it stronger! And today there are three things that I can say about The Queen that I cannot say about many others in my collection:

She keeps all of my secrets
She has seen me cry and still thinks I'm strong
When I make her laugh I feel like the priviledged one.

Important, IMPORTANT note: I have so many amazing friends, and this is the not last time a Wove, Thursday will be dedicated to a friend. You'll either be seriously jealous of my collection or totally sick of my friends before I'm done. Because my collection of friends is one of the most impressive ever there was. But I wanted to start with royalty. Ladies and Gentlemen, long live the Queen, and happy Wove, Thursday.

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

After Holiday lack of inspiration...

So sorry for the long dry spell. Normally I try to be really good about keeping you guys informed, as I know that this is all desperately interesting to each and every one of you, but there was this one day where everyone in my club said "hey, let's each make 3-4 truly amazing dishes and bring them all to one house and eat until we're dead with happy!" And then it took all weekend to recover. (I employed the "hair of the dog what you bit." rule. Best. Recovery. Ever!)

I realize that there's been some positive developments with that I've just not been good about reporting. I've been looking over my list of scapegoats and I'm going to blame both the holiday AND Wove, Thursday for this lack of reporting. (a two-fer scapegoat -- nothing can penetrate such a protective barrier!) But enough of the blame-game, let's get to catching up. First, a recap of the players thus far:

McFirsty: still in play
McSecondy: he closed
Princey: I closed
Newstand Dude: he closed
Vegan Guy: I closed

Now my way-overdue updates...

Update the first: McFirsty finally did send me his answers to my questions. Ya know how I read the answers from Princey and kind of went "yeesh..."? And eventually I rejected him? And at the time I felt like all of my justifications were really excellent. No kidding, I used some overly-large words, I put the inflections on some of them just so, and I used just the right amount of sarcasm, which is where I think most justifications lose their way. The sarcasm has to be used as a scalpal, people, not a sledgehammer. Remember that when next you are crafting a solid justification.

Anyway, I made the justification and cut him lose, but then I began the prerequisite fretting. "What if all of the answers are just like his? What if I'm expecting way too much from this process? Am I being too picky? Am I judging him just because he's from the Sister City? Do I normally talk to myself in questions like this?" (Note: the answer to that last one had better be no. It would just make me nuts.)

But then, like an e-beacon on the e-rizon came a new set of answers to those questions but from a new dude! I kind of wish that these had been the third set of answers so that I could do this whole elaborate parody of the three little bears. Because these answers definitely were Juuust Riiiight. Just when I'd given up on him the elusive McFirsty reappeared on the scene with answers in hand and he nailed them! This validated my pickiness on Princey AND gave me the first bit of honest hope about this process yet!

Now for update the second, also known as the "bad news" or at least the "less good news" (or maybe the "Femtastic is crazy and making everyone else crazy" news!): With these excellent answers came questions of his own for me to answer. I looked over the questions he sent me and I'm pretty sure he's too good for me. Sigh. Here were his questions:

1. If you decided to stay at home for the evening would you tend to: (pick one from a list)
How often do you lose your temper?
How important is chemistry to you?
How many books did you read last year?

And here's what I'm afraid these questions are secretly telling me: He's a reader with zen-like peacefulness who is drop dead charming. And likes to read. (reading was the noble choice answer on two of these questions.) Now if you know anything about me (which would be amazing given that the whole of your knowledge of me is based on these idiotic ramblings. By me!) you know that I will always boil things down to a simple if horribly flawed concept and here's todays:

If their answers are good their questions are too good.

I have such hope for the future.

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

Here's to us, Who's Like us?...

...damned few! (ooh, musically-inspired, holiday potty-mouth-- sassy!)

OK, so imagine this: you're in this club. The club is full of all of these really amazing people, who are smart and funny and generous and talented and stuff like that. And all the people in the club love hanging out together, playing games together, do hobbies, classes, things together... they have in-jokes and catch-phrases, but for the most part they don't make you wear any club "gear" like sweat suits or special hats w/ ears attached.

Imagine that there are some accepted rules of this club, which include:
  1. everyone is accepted as they are, including some level of wartiness
  2. everybody is allowed to, and expected to, speak their mind, and if things get testy somebody will pretty much always drop a joke-bomb to clear the air
  3. since nobody's perfect anyway we're just gonna air each other's faults openly, usually as part of a high-larious anecdote (note: teller of initial story should expect a counter-story to follow from subject of first story. Repeat as necessary)
  4. never, ever drink the last Pepsi in the house
  5. there is no such thing as "enough food" at any club gathering
  6. he who smelt it, dealt it, unless Squirrely* is in the room
  7. once you're a member of the club you are a member for life. Whether you want to be or not (like the mob, but not nearly as much pasta or church)

Final rule: you wove each other. You can also frustrate each other, resent each other, mock each other or, in some remote instances, hate each other. But the "wove each other" rule is always in effect regardless.

Now I'm sure your next question has gotta be "How does one get into your club?" In my case it was the classic story of "when one member of the club finds a new member to bring into the club, and they wove each other very much..." and then, of course, bow-chicka-bow-bowm... But regardless of whether you got born in, brought in or dragged in, rule #7 is always in effect. We had a big club gathering today and now I'm sitting here full of food and drink and the buzz of club wove. For my club I give many, many Thanks.

Happy Wove, Thursday, everyone!

(*note: once again, names have been changed to protect the innocent. But if they're reading, they know who they are...)

Monday, November 20, 2006

Must Stands, Can't Haves...

I had messages from today. Not one, but two! The fancy-pants makers of sayings would call this that 'feast' part of the equation, after all the famine we've been tangoing through. We had the "Must Haves" and "Can't Stands" from Princey (for the last time, I'm not telling you where the nickname comes from! Secret is secret, dammit!) in record time! (To be fair, he's the first to do this, so he both sets and breaks the record. Oh hell, he IS the record.)

From Princey's lists of "Must Haves" there were several items that... gave me pause. Not red flags like "Must Have 6 legs" or "Must worship my strangely shaped naughty parts," because those would give me more then pause. Something along the lines of leaping, crawling heebie-jeebies, ya know? (spelling police -- heeby-jeeby? Your call.) But ok, here's a frinstance:
"I must have a partner who maintains high standards of personal hygiene, orderliness, and other personal habits."
...I remember seeing that one on the list and thinking "wow, that would make me sound like some kind of uber-sensitive, anal and picky wackadoo. I'd better not pick it." Apparently either Princey didn't reach that conclusion or he's some kind of uber-sensitive, anal and picky wackadoo!
"I must have someone who is willing to share my interests and passions."
...I want to hope that he's just trying to talk about having things in common with a partner. However, I've also seen too many control-freaks who figure if you're not in to whatever they find cool you're just wrong, wrong, wrong. And I'm already wrong enough in life, I don't need new opportunities for that.
"My partner must be financially responsible."
...this is a good thought, but the thing is that I'm, er... whatdyacallit... like, not. I'm not. I mean I'm not filing for bankruptcy or ducking loan sharks or anything. But if my spending enthusiast ways make me so crazy I'd probably be peeling him off the ceiling. No thank you!

And my personal favorite:
"I must have someone who is mature and experienced as a potential sexual partner and is able to express himself/herself freely."
What he probably meant: I want someone who isn't a virgin, a prude or catholic priest." What I'm hearing: "you bring your own saddle, I'll supply the branding iron and Crisco, baby!" followed by animal mating sounds, the smell of bacon grease and the taste of Cocoa Butter and feathers.

And people, you should know this about me: I'm NOT a prude! In fact, I'm extremely motivated to find someone with which to do some parallel parking, if you know what I mean. (oh, and if you don't know what I mean you either shouldn't be reading this or my Mom is finally checking out this link.) What I'm trying to say is this: I have not had touchy-feely, mattress-bouncy, spring-testing fun for over 10 years. A solid DECADE. So if anyone should be throwing down that naughty gauntlet it would be me. And therefore if I'm made hinky by this particular "Must Have" I think I should go with me gut on this one. Right?

From the land of "Can't Stands" I was singing along with his karaoke tune pretty well until I hit this sour note:
"I can't stand someone who likes to spend excessive time sleeping, resting or being a "couch potato."
One of the things I promised myself when diving into this deep and uncharted pool was that I'd be honest about who I am and what I'm looking for. I'd love to say that I'm not lazy, don't spend excessive time sleeping and have never worn the suit of the "couch potato." Oh hell, I could totally say that! I'd just be lying, is all, and then I'm breaking promises I made to myself and I can be such a bitch when I'm pissed off, so I need to keep me on my good side. So honesty it is: I'm not just a couch potato -- I'm the dang queen of the couch potatoes! You wish you could spend as much time lounging on the couch as I do! If you tried, you'd probably pull a muscle!

I could either end this communication now, or I could turn the crank one more time. If I did that I'd send him another set of 5 questions from a whole new list. But I'd also have to wear the bastard hat, because I'm 96% sure that I'd just be indulging in the social experiment at that point. I want to keep seeing what happens next, but I gotta remind myself that this actually isn't a computer game, where I keep going through each level until I save the Royal Cosmonaut or defeat the Evil Asparagus. It's just an amazing simulation.

Too pooped to cover email number two -- must be why they invented tomorrow!

Saturday, November 18, 2006

Questions, answers, other crap...

The good news: someone answered some questions.

The bad news: the answers have me a little worried.

Yes, Princey the pictureless wonder squirrel replied to my questions at last. I am going to be the better virtual-person and not shoot back all sorts of snarky comments about how it could take him three weeks to pick out answers to 5 multiple choice questions. (No, instead I just vent to you guys.) Anyway, here's what I've learned about Princey-Mc-Prince-Prince:

1) When in a relationship, how much personal space do you generally find you need?
A) I don't have a great need for "personal space". I like lots of together time.
2) Your idea of a romantic time would be:
E) candle-lit dinner at home or on beach.
3) Would you rather date someone who is:
E) Open.
4) What is your opinion of traditional gender roles?
C) I'm not at all interested in traditional gender roles and want my mate and me to define our roles on our own.
5) Outside of a romantic relationship, are you competitive?
D) I'm never competitive.

What Princey-palia was probably trying to say:

"Hey, I'm looking for someone I can spend quality time with. I like romance that can be done at any time, rather then just on a special ocasion, and I won't make my work the priority over my relationships. I'm not hung up on gender roles, and will be happy to make dinner while you mow the lawn, and you can win at Monopoly -- that's ok with me, baby.

What my 'freaked-out-about-getting-into-any-relationship' filter heard:

"I will expect you to be with me during every second your of free time and I'll be calling you spontaneously to make sure that you're not somewhere having fun without me. When we're not together I will be unable to breath. There's no such thing as too much spooning. Romance is fine, as long as it will cost me as virtually nothing. I'll be calling you at work just to make sure that you miss me, and will go crazy any time your other life obligations conflict with "us time." Although I don't know why you'd have any other life obligations, considering I expect my woman to be home barefoot and pregnant, traditional ideas of working women be damned. But you can win at Monopoly, Kitten."

Apparently I have baggage. Too much wacka-doo juice running through my veins.

Now I have 5 questions from him to answer. they are:

How often do you lose your temper?
How important is chemistry to you?
Your idea of adventure is:
What kind of exercise do you prefer?
What are your body-type preferences for your mate?

Here's what I, being a bad person, want to do:

1) wait for 6 months to answer.
2) finally answer, but by entering all of my own "other" responses for each, like this:
How often do you lose your temper? -- What the f*ck is that supposed to mean?!?
How important is chemistry to you? -- Now, by chemistry we're talking liquor, right? Or something harder? Know what I mean, know what I mean?
Your idea of adventure is: -- backdoor sex. And I mean your back door.
What kind of exercise do you prefer? -- Is free-form couch-sitting considered excercise? Otherwise I'll have to say backdoor sex again.
What are your body-type preferences for your mate? -- first off, she needs to have a great rack... (that's assuming I can't insert a sound file of "Baby Got Back" as my answer.)

...but I know that it would be very wrong to do these things. After all, this guy is the first one to give me a second look. (wow, that reads as sad.) Anyway, I'll put in honest answers and see if I can scare him away with the real me. Fingers crossed, my peoples!

Friday, November 17, 2006

Society of Secret Bloggers

You know how I'm protecting the innocent within this blog, right? And how I'm doing it via secrecy, such as nicknames and obscurity and such? Well, to be honest with you guys (since we're so close and all,) this whole thing is a big secret in my world, and that's the other reason for the lack of real names. In fact, I'm still a little nervous about the fact that my very own face shows up on this blog because that could still tip off my identity to anyone who might accidentally stumble on my little universe. Yes, I am a secret blogger.

Why do I blog on the sly? I've got reasons three, which I disclose to you now in no particular order, which is to say in this following order which I'm yanking from my bottom.

First, as I've already mentioned I've spent my single years establishing myself as that chick who is the singlest of single and is totally cool with it. And in fact that is, for the most part, true. I'm not anti-wove, and if it came along and found me I'd be like "hey, wove, how's it going? You look good -- are those new pantaloons? Man, you pull that look off. I never could. What's that? You say you'd like to stick around and maybe get to know me oodles more? Well, I do have a cake in the oven, but other than that I'm pretty free. Pepsi?" and then I'd do that arm-sweepy thing to welcome them to my world and we'd talk about tv and comic books and become the very bestest of friends.

But after wooing guys, asking guys out, being rejected by guys, being invisible to guys, and sometimes even being one of the guys I just got tired of having to do all the work. All of it. Every smidge of work done personally by yours truly. Tiring and also crappy, especially given the lack of success that came from that work. At some point I said to myself, "Self, you're tired and also still yet alone -- do you really this?" Answer back: "nope." Add to that the fact that I'm painfully independent and self-sufficient, to the point that my friends have to keep quiet about their life projects for fear that I'll sweep in and take them over, and pursuing wove became officially a silly thing to worry about any more.

So I'm not eager to admit to any of my woved ones (hard to say, by the way) that I'm even considering taking steps to wook for wove (see -- hard.) In short, I have my reputation to consider. So unless I knew that this was going to be worthwhile I decided this would be just between me and you. And you. Also you. And I don't know who told you about it, but welcome anyway...

Secondly, if this blog experiment turns out to be a flop (i.e. I am a craptastic writer and shouldn't ever, ever, ever) I really don't want to comfort anybody but me. This way I can close it, delete it and forget it and not have to explain what happened to anyone else. Now I will say that in the last couple of weeks there have started to be comments from readers, and so far they've been complimentary! I know that these readers are all exceptionally smart, kind and with boundless good taste (and also pretty -- did I mention pretty?) so the fact that there are folks who've encouraged me means I'm gonna keep going for a bit more. (you others have nobody to blame for this but the commenters!)

Finally, I feel like I can write about things with a special honesty when those reading the words don't know me. You guys have no pre-conceived notions, no expectations (so far) and therefore you take each word as I write them. I appreciate that kind of freedom.

I know I can't be the only person out there who is blogging on the Q-T, right? Some of you must keep this as a private endeavor too! So I call to you all -- join me in our society. Become an official member of the Society of Secret Bloggers. Add your link in the comments and we'll share our private madness with eachother. Until my friends find out. (then y'all are on y'own!)

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Goes around, comes around.

Man, sorry for bringing the room down like that. But if I can't be honest to the point of sorrow with you, my bestest of unknown mystery friends, with whom can I?

So, where were we? Oh yeah, I was rejecting someone completely out of hand. And trying not to feel like crap for it. If anyone missed episode one of this saga, there are reasons. Good reasons. Not at all shallow reasons, and I'm sure this is the right thing to do. Now I just gotta do it.

When last we saw our hero (psst: that's me) she was pushing the button marked "Close Match", figuring that would be that. But oh no, me hearties, there's more!

First, you get yet another fabulous list of options. Lists are very big at They have lists for what you want from a mate, lists of what you are like, lists of your faults; then you get to being matched and there are more lists, for the questions that you want them to answer or the steps you can take. OR the list of 18 different reasons why you're ditching a match. 18. I'm not sure which was more surprising: that there were 18, or that there were only 18. Some of my favorites were:
  • "I don't think our Must Haves and Can't Stands fit." -- I had to read that sentence like eleventeen times before I understood it.
  • "I'd rather not say" -- a secret rejection? How french!
  • "Other" -- I'm going to close out a match with "other" some time just because it tickles me. (and right after that I'm going to hell)
But what to pick for this guy, my first rejection? Sadly there was no "Because of my passion for maximalism," so after sorting through that list it seems like the closest one to the truth would be number 13, "I think the difference in our values is too great." But what I've learned from my own experiences (yes, that's plural -- it's been a big week!) is that you should try to figure out what that will sound like to the person you're rejecting when they don't know the specific thing that sent you away.

After all, "difference in our values" could mean "I close this match because friendships are important to you and hate friends!" or "I'm offended by your desire to help those less fortunate then you. Jerk." So I'm reading every question and trying to decide how it could be misinterpreted. (it was either this or washing my hands, washing my hands, washing my hands...)

And then that smart little voice in the back of my head, the one normally drowned out by the Smurf song or dirty limericks, pushed through with this noble, poignant thought: "Ahem... Are you kidding with this? You don't owe him anything -- you have no relationship with this person at all and he's going to live beyond your stupid match! Seriously, how important do you think your opinion of these people is to them? Wow, no wonder you always wear button-up shirts -- you'll never get that massive melon through a head hole!" (give me a moment, I must dry my emotional eyes.)

OK, so "crappy, minimalist-loving values" it is. I shall now click that box and see what comes next...

Nothing! Rejection delivered. So we're down to 2 guys. 2 guys who may or may not actually exist. 2 possibly fictional, pictureless guys. Yeah, this online matchmaking thing is totally awesome.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

For her I buried many squirrel butts.

About 25 days ago my roommate and I decided to wrap up a 15 year partnership. We'd been together since she was the size of 2 tennis balls, though some of my people gave her refuge during a couple of years when I couldn't have her myself. Our bond had many facets, but I think the most significant thing she taught me was the possibility of unconditional wove.

I really want to be clear here: I get this magical product from a bunch of people in my life. Most everyone in my family, many of my friends, and some local politicians if their promises are to be believed. But I honestly think that it's been pretty easy to live up to that with my human connections.

True unconditional wove is seeing the rear 1/2 of a squirrel on the kitchen floor as the gift that it is.

It's taking elaborate steps to coax the live bird she brought home back out of the house, while simultaneously avoiding the crap bombs it's dropping.

Claw gouges on your back from an escape attempt, as you wash the motor oil out of her coat for the third time? That's wove of the unconditional variety.

We're talking spending a week, and your annual bonus, on a radiation treatment for a hyper thyroid, not to mention taking her poop to the hazardous waste part of the dump for the week afterward. (it didn't glow -- I checked.)

But it went both ways, I assure you. She put up with my constantly throwing away her gifts of love-carnage. She let me sing along with the music in my headphones and only occasionally used her claws to let me know she was done. She defended me and our home from so many other cats, dogs, raccoons and possums, though she always lost interest in the big, hairy spiders once she'd crippled 'em but good. She suffered vacuum cleaners, alarm clocks and window fans and still looked fabulous.

Tonight I'm finally taking her name off of our answering machine, dumping out her unused litter pan and donating her bed to the animal shelter. The battle is over and I'll consider it a win even though she's gone. Because we got to be together to the very end. But she set the bar for unconditional wove pretty damn high. I pity the fool who has to step up and jump it.

Happy wove, Thursday, folks. I'll finish the adventures of rejectioning next time.

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Match the Fifth... which I get to put on the douchebag suit.

Flashback: remember McSecondy? The dude who took one look at the little smattering of information they gave about me and knew right away that I wasn't right for him? The one who rejected me without a second thought, dismissing me like so many peanut shells on the floor of the baseball stadium of his life? Remember that douchebag?

Well today the roll of douchebag will be played by me, your very own Femtastic.

I'm gonna reject someone. And I feel like I should have guilt about it, but it's just so definitely the right thing to do that I can't work up the guilt stuff. Blame the parents.

Now I'm sure you're wondering why I would be so sure that someone is rejectable. I have not just one very good reason, but TWO. And I should mention here that having two clear reasons to bail on someone is impressive when you consider just how little the puppet masters at tell you about someone in the initial match. Here are the topic headers for what they share:
  • important interests that you and "The Dude" share
  • one thing "The Dude" is most passionate about
  • three things which "The Dude" is most thankful for
  • 3 Relationship Strengths
  • The most influential person in "The Dude's" life
  • "The Dude's" friends describe him as
  • Three of "The Dude's" best life-skills
And in case this list gives you hope that there's knowledge to be gathered from it, let me assure you there isn't. They're mostly just various ways of saying "look how amazing this guy is! Don't you want him?" It's not as though a likely response to "The Dude's" friends describe him as" would be "Rude, Angry, possibly a serial killer."

But here I was, faced with a minor sprinkling of information which said to me oh-so-clearly "Not the dude for you!" And let me tell you, at last, why. In response to the question "one thing "The Dude" is most passionate about" there was this sentence:
"I am most passionate about making a decent effort to live a lifestyle that is congruent to my envisions. For me, this puts veganism on top of the list. "
Now the overall idea here I applaud, especially his use of "congruent." But I cannot deal with a Vegan. (the people who know me and read this blog are now wetting themselves with laughter at the sheer idea of me and a vegan. Let's give them a minute to compose themselves. How are those cuticles coming along?...) To say that I'm not a big vegetable eater is like saying that Jeffrey Dahmer had some unconventional eating habits. I'm a carnivore, people, just as was my ancestor, the Tyranasaurus Rex!

And let me clarify: I'm also absurdly fond of all animals and living things. I'm the one in the office charged with taking the spiders outside so they won't be killed. I feed squirrels along with the birds. I can't watch a movie if I know that the animal dies within it, even if the animal is the villain! (Jaws, Cujo, Godzilla remake -- all non-Femtastic-approved movies for just this reason.)

But I'm sorry, there is just nothing quite as tasty as juicy fried chicken, a succulent filet of salmon, even a simple cheeseburger. So the idea of me and a vegan (and a tremendously enthusiastic vegan at that!) is an absolute laugh riot. (It gives me his nickname, though, which I hearby dub Vegan Guy.) And yet it doesn't end there.

He also added this sentence as a follow-up to the vegan bombshell:

"Not far behind are minimalism and volunteering. "
"But Femtastic, what could you have against volunteering?" I hear you ask. Absolutely nothing. I'm very pro-volunteering. I spend 3 hours a week volunteering time for our local animal shelter myself. No, it's definitely not the volunteering.

Minimalism? How can someone be passionate about minimalism? And I'm asking this literally. If anyone has an insight as to how that could be done please chime in, because I'm just lost here. A dictionary I found defines minimalism as "Use of the fewest and barest essentials or elements." It would seem to me that passion works in a totally different direction. Could one actually say, passionately, "Wow oh wow, look at how few essentials or elements they've used here! Awesome!"

And then Vegan Guy wrapped up his answer with:

"I'm also probably far too passionate about keeping fit, that's strictly for selfish reasons."

and that's when I ran away, away, away. Because though I like the idea of being fit, for me it's more of a conceptual thing. Like wanting to be 100% honest, or entirely free of envy. Or learning how to take flight. All cool, but just just not realistic. And I'd like to be with someone who might push me a little in this area, but not so much that I'm forced to end our relationship by crushing his head with my microwave oven (after having used same oven to make a new batch of oniony tater tots, of course.)

There was one more thing, but it's more of a pet peeve then a problem. You'll notice that the question that spawned all of this bad disclosure was "one thing Vegan Guy is most passionate about." ONE THING. How many things do you count in that response? Because I count five. Five things. Five things in response to a question asking for one thing. Five times more things then were requested. 500% more stuff then he was supposed to shove into that answer box. One thing, Vegan-guy! One!!

So, I clicked the "close match" button, and I bet you think it ends there, right? Well, it does for today, but (and I've always wanted to do this!) I must say:


Sunday, November 12, 2006

The wish list

First, a recap for those of you still filling out your score cards:

McFirsty: we were "matched" (so romantic -- can't wait to tell this story to our grandkiddies) on Oct. 26, and I sent him my piercing, probing (dirty!) questions that day, despite his being plagued with a lack of face (if his "picture" is to be believed). After getting no answers I nudged him on Nov. 6th. I'm overwhelmed by the affections he's lavished on me, carefully disguised as ignoring me completely. Such a Romantic!

McSecondy: Matched and ditched all in one day. I sent him a closed message to let him know that I thought he was moving too fast and I needed to find someone who would take a little time with their relationships. Ironically, this guy had a picture. (stupid irony.)

Princey: Matched on Oct. 29th, picture-free again. He's also been shy. Or quiet. Possibly imaginary? I decided not to nudge Princey because... yeah, I'm sure there was a reason when I decided that. I'm slightly less sure that it was a really good reason. (It certainly wasn't a very memorable reason, so...) Thoughts on nudging anyone?

Newstand Dude: Matchness achieved on Nov. 9 and, big, hairy dang surprise: he also had no picture. In further pursuit of my social experiment I've opted to let N.D. send me questions rather than sending them to him. Which I'm just sure he'll do. Any day now. Just wait...

And all of that brings us to now. Still waiting for something to happen.

While we're getting so very good at this waiting, waiting, waiting we've so far talked about what I consider deal breakers (no smokers, boozers, angora rabbits) and we've talked about what the E-Experts at think I'm looking for (funny, open-minded, not suicidal). But there's still one more list that I think is worth covering (especially since there ain't nothin' happenin' over at the wish list. Those things that I'll be using as a tie-breaker should I discover many possible mens of my dreams. Here's what that list might look like:
  • Plays the drums. Don't ask me why, but I've had a soft spot for drummers since puberty. Maybe it's the excellent rhythm, or maybe the absurdly muscle-bound right calves -- who can know? But loves me some drummer boy.
  • Plays pool. I'm sorry, but the sound of pool balls whacking together is audio-sex, people! And someone who can really control a pool table gets my attention. And I do mean that in the way that you're thinking. (except for you -- stop thinking that.)
  • Australian accent. Oh come on, do I really have to explain that?
  • Can cook. Because I really can NOT cook. I also don't enjoy it. But any guy who could, and would want to, cook me some crazy-good meal would earn fabulous gratitude in whatever form he'd prefer.
I'm sure there are others I could come up with, but those who know me would all throw these out if asked this same question about me, so I know these are right. Now what I need is to have so many dude options to choose from that I must refer to this list to narrow the field. Wish me luck on that first part!

Friday, November 10, 2006

Third time is the...

Charm? Last straw? Pain in my ass?

I've got a new match. Woo-hoo. Feel the thrill. As you may have guessed, I'm just not feeling the wove here. First, this is the third match who's pictureless. He's got no picture. Faceless and I'm supposed to face that? Why so? And I have to ask myself: do I have a picture when they see my info? I really don't know anymore. I wish there was a way I could see what my stuff looks like to them. Because if he gets to see my face and I don't get to see his, well that just don't seem kosher, ya know? Anyway, I've got Mr. Invisible number three.

Note: Mr. Invisible is not this guy's official nickname.

Secondly, this fellow is from our city's sister city, which I and most of my neighbors (and by neighbor I mean everyone else in this city) have vowed to judge like a book with a crappy cover! (is this bad? yes it is. but it is the bad that is of my people. we, as a group, have decided to be bad in this way.) By itself his location means very little, but it's number two and I have both a number one and a number three. Speaking of which...

Thirdly (toldja!), I really have a tough time wanting to turn the crank a third time given that the first two cranks (ooh, dirty!) have so far lead to nada, zero, zip, bupkis, etc. I'm getting a tremendous sense of deja vu here. Ya see, in my past pretty much all of my romantic daliances (I think that's french, as well as probably spelled wrong) were a direct result of me doing all the work. I asked folks out, I did the flirting, it was all me. And one of the reasons I stopped worrying about the wove thing was because I got tired of feeling desperate, like I was always chasing things down.

Then looky, looky, here I goes again! I get the email and I turn the crank, and then nothing else happens.

So I'm gonna do it a wee pinch different this time. I dub this new guy "Newstand Dude" for reasons I'll only explain within my wedding reception toast (I'm not getting ahead of myself -- I make this vow for pretty much all the guys) and I'm gonna let him send me some questions. I need to know whether anything happens if I don't take the first step, so the ball's in his court as of now. Riddle me something, Newstand Dude!

Thursday, November 09, 2006

Love, Thursday #1

Ladies and Gents, meet both my inspiration and the impossible dream, all rolled into one. These lovely peoples be my parents. We'll call them Mom and Dad -- they'll answer to it and everything.

Mom and Dad have been married for almost 45 years. And to each other the whole time! (no, seriously!) Growing up I was one of those kids who's parents were considered weird because they hadn't found the fight that could kill them yet. They loved each other, and even more strange I guess is that they liked each other at the same time. And strangest of all: apparently (if this shot is to be believed) they still do!

(By the way, I should mention that I like them both too. Always have. My favorite people, really. Wait until you get to know them, I'm sure you'll love them too.)

Anyway, when people see a kid who's parents are together for so long they naturally expect that the kid will also find their sweet baboo and settle down to "love me always and I'll do the same and I'll even let the little stuff slide if you will" bliss. My sister did it, but she's always been an over-achiever. Show off, really -- she got her home run on the second time at bat! (and by "at bat" I'm talking dudes, not marriages or anything dirty.) In fact, just about everyone in my whole extended family is paired off, so I really am the blackest of black sheepies amongst my people!

But here's the deal: when you see it so good for so long it sets a very high bar and I'm really not willing to compromise on what I want from wove. I don't think I should have to. After all, they didn't! No, wove and I are gonna have to work this out, but in the end I either get all that I want from wove, or wove keeps on a-walkin'. (I'm 2 wuh-words away from baby talk here!)

So here on my first entry into Love, Thursday (or I should say Wove, Thursday) I present to you all what I aspire to achieve. If it's worth doin', it's worth doin' right! Happy Wove Thursday.

Monday, November 06, 2006

Nudge, nudge, say some more...

So the first guy I was "matched" to, whom we have nicknamed McFirsty? Yeah, he's never come back around with those pithy little answers to my 5 carefully selected (read: drawn from a hat) questions. Based on this E-snubbing I figured I had a few options:

-choose to preemptorily hate him -- "Oh yeah? Well screw you, Mr. "I don't really need to find a woman!" You and your lack of details and your empty picture box and your abundant silence -- I don't need you either!" and find the little emoticon-type-deal that signifies my stomping off in an E-huff.


-keep hangin' on, knowing in my soft-and-mushy heart of hearts that he'll come around if I can just be patient and wait, wait, wait -- "I just know that when McFirsty comes back around, bringing with him a lovely bouquet of tenderly-picked answers to my special questions, that we will make that instant connection that only a keyboard, a monitor and the World Wide Web can provide. Oh it will be so very magical..."


-use all the tools that the internet has brought forth to find him, find him, FIND HIM! -- "Yeah, is this ? From In Oregon? Yeah, this is Femtastic. From Nevermind how I found you -- I'm not gonna be IGNORED, McFirsty! Now, where do you keep your stock pots and your rabbit?..."

However it turns out that our tech-wizards at have another option for me. Now that it's been over 7 days since I sent him the questions they say that I could "nudge" him. There's this button by his name which even says "Nudge" and I'm gonna push it and see what happens, right? (ok, ok, I'm going to push it. Stop pressuring me!!)


OK, he's been nudged! And because they love me (at least until they find someone else to do it) my helpful, generous BWFE (Best Website Friends Ever) gave me some really good advice. They put their E-arm around my shoulder, giving it a supportive E-squeeze, and then they told me (by placing it in a banner message across the center of the page) that I should "Please be patient." Then, E-sensing that I wasn't buying it and being concerned that my E-confidence might be shaken by the lack of any E-sponse, they reminded me (by including it in the very same banner) that "each member has different time commitments. A member may still be interested, even though they have not responded to a communication."

Thanks I E-needed that.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

Who needs REAL wove? I've got TV!

Yes, as my very good friends at surf through their millions and millions, and millions of matches slowly, methodically, probably through a method of 3x5 cards and post it flags, I am spending time with the best match maker of all: television.

Oh sure, movies are good. And magazines have their place. And don't even get me started on comic books! But really, if you want to make a meaningful connection with a handsome, sensitive, funny, cool guy you need go no further then that happy little box in the corner (or if you're in my house, box in every single room of the house!) There you can find men worthy of your love and with a dedication that few others can match. You can count on them! They'll be there every week, the same time, the same place... How many real men can you say that about? (oh shut up, show offs!)

Who do I look forward to tristing with each week? Here are but a few:

Jon Stewart: funny and handsome, and toss in a healthy dose of smart. Woo hoo! I've loved this guy since he was a totally unknown comic doing little clips on Comedy Central some 15+ years ago, so I was super-excited when he got his own show! I tune in 4 nights a week and through him I can do the impossible: enjoy any kind of news!

Luke Danes: For any of you who like fast, pithy dialogue and jokes about dogs named after vintage pop singers I say "see you Tuesday!" Here you'll find my gruff, rugged, loaner of a diner owner Luke Danes. Sure, in the last season he went slowly buggy and I feel as though I haven't seen him for months, but I can sometimes find reruns and it's like he never left. Oh I've got your fries, buddy, right here! (I was going for kinky, but that was mostly just creepy.)

Desmond the crazy Scottish guy on Lost: Is it the accent? The nudity? The scruffy facial hair that never gets longer or goes away? Yes it is. I know many folks ask the question "who is hotter: Sawyer or Jack?" but for me it's all about the loon who was talked into pushing that damn button for years while still maintaining his love for 60's pop hits. And the accent, brotha!

Robert Scorpio: Oh come on! He's a spy, an Australian AND he came back from the dead! Who could possibly say no to the greatest character that daytime TV ever knew? Now, I tried to watch GH when I first found out that the former WSB agent was being brought back from the great beyond, and here's the deal: the writing suuuuuuucked. Even worse, they kept insisting that he actually read what the writers had written. What are they thinking? But I see this return to GH as a loophole that will allow me to add him to this list, even if I'm not enjoying his current life. (I find what works is to close my eyes and imagine that it's old, wacky Robert. Same awesome accent, right?)

*Honorary Mention*
Ze Frank: I know what many of you are saying: "Hey, he's not on the TV." to which I wait for one of those fabulous dramatic pauses and then reply: "YET." But you mark my words: some day (and I think it may be soon) the rest of the media world will finally discover this guy and put his star on the BIG map. For now I get to really relish our tight, warm and personal bond. Every afternoon. (back off ladies -- he's mine!)

OK, I'll keep you posted if something actually happens with In the meantime, I'll be hanging with my guys. Dreamy!