“Work like hell! I had 122 rejection slips before I sold a story.” ~F. Scott Fitzgerald
Though I can truly say that there are several people that I’ve befriended over the years, having met through different web forums, blogs and other media, it’s not nearly as often that online dating has been a successful venture for me. More often than not, I find myself questioning my decision to even put myself out there, believing that I must have signed up in a fit of desperation.
But desperation really isn’t it. And there’s nothing wrong with online dating. There are some perfectly nice people on these websites…
Why the hesitancy? Especially when I admit that “the potential” was discovered on one such site. Because something’s always wrong. Whether it’s a communication issue, a social awkwardness, a moving too fast situation, or what have you, they’re always wrong. And I’m not just being pessimistic, I can now say that I’ve had accounts on at least seven different dating sites. Not all at the same time, of course. That would be a nightmare.
And while, yes, I can see the pros of some sites over others, and responses have been more positive from some over others, I’m still not convinced that this is how I want to meet my ultimate match. Does that make sense? Even though my best friend seems to have found the love of her life from a dating site, even though another good friend is clearly in love with a guy she met from a different site, I’m still not convinced. I mean, no, I’m not Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman.” I don’t need the fairy tale. I think it’s just that I don’t want to have to later attribute my relationship success to social media. Something just seems wrong about that.
Maybe I’m just old school…
And so it started, so it ended. Quickly. It was over so quickly, and I didn’t even really get a chance to understand or know what was happening. Rather, the silence of one meant the end of the unit and confusion to the other.
Obviously I know that either things would work out or they wouldn’t, but perhaps I gave him too much credit. It’s not that it didn’t work out that upsets me, it’s HOW it didn’t work out. Only in Los Angeles have I had someone, seemingly so into me, just choose to fall off the face of the earth. All of a sudden there’s no response to a message, no call backs, no communication at all. And it hurt, because I think I was ready for serious — exactly what he’d said he was looking for.
I sent a text to him after a week of silence on his part, expressing how I felt, how much I’d liked him, and how I would have hoped he could at least speak to me. That I’d deserved a goodbye. It was the closure I needed to move on. And another week of silence went by. I assumed everything was over and that he’d chosen to judge me because, though we’re both Christian, his particular denomination isn’t mine. I wasn’t closed off to his, or even in a mode of thought that one of us had to change, but apparently me not being a specific denomination, primed and ready, is a dealbreaker. I get it, but I don’t. If our core values are the exact same, and I’m accepting you and what you believe at face value, and who knows, maybe I’m even open to agreeing with some of your values once I learn more about them, what is the problem? What I don’t like is being judged for the one thing that someone else doesn’t want to be judged for.
But then something happened that was so unexpected. After two weeks of silence, I received a friend request on Facebook. Still silent — still no message — but I supposed you could call it a communication. But what does that really mean? Does that mean “let’s just be friends” without having to say it? Does that mean “I’m sorry?” Does that mean “I like you, but I’m just not ready for serious after all?” All I knew was that I expected a message to follow this addition. I added him thinking that, surely, he would not remain silent. But he did.
I allowed us to be “friends” for about 24 hours, and then I just couldn’t deal with all of the unknowns. I deserved better. I deserved an explanation. How are we so close, cutesy, kissy, handholding and all, and then he won’t speak to me again? We never crossed the ultimate line, and he seemed so happy when I last saw him. All smiles, our breath marking the cold air as we realized it was a random 42 degree morning.
In a fit of self-righteous indignation, I unfriended him. And I messaged him to tell him so. We can’t go from where we were, to silence, to unspeaking Facebook friends. Far too much transition in two weeks, and with no explanation for what ever happened to cause our demise. It’s not that I’m against being friends, but why start out at friends if you’re going to give the other the silent treatment?
I don’t regret the decision, nor do I regret the message I sent following. I really laid out there how I felt; that I felt blamed and judged and at fault just for being who I am — a person that I think deep down he actually really likes. How I was willing to accept him as he was, and how I had hoped that this was something more than the trivial nonsense I’ve dealt with the last couple years. How I could be friends, if that’s ultimately what he wanted, but that I couldn’t feign it if he didn’t even want to speak to me. How all I really wanted was for him to speak to me. And then I promised not to send him any more ranting messages. After all, what is there left to say if he remains silent?
I get a sinking feeling that he was what I was looking for, and it makes me miss him, and I hate that. I hate that I can’t just turn all of this off, because he doesn’t seem to want it. He never bothered to see if maybe the things we were looking for actually lined up. He just assumed they didn’t and moved on. And while he may be the one that loses out (as most of my female friends would quickly say his choice creates his loss), this one feels like the one who got away.
He has this calm about him that I found so comforting. And I loved how much he could make me smile. But, I guess at least for now, it’s time to say goodbye to the butterflies.
So I’ve started dating someone new, and it’s truly one of those things where I really don’t know what will happen. He’s one of those random finds, so similar to someone I’ve been with in the past, but yet there’s something so different about this time around. There’s potential.
I think that I always knew my previous relationship could never move forward. It was always him holding us back; he wasn’t ready, and he didn’t know when he would be.
But with this new guy, there’s the potential to get really serious. Certainly not a guarantee of serious — we’re not even in what I would call a relationship yet, but there’s definitely potential. I don’t know who is more scared, he or I. There are some major concerns that I think we both have, but something seems to draw us together. He makes me feel butterflies again.
If this one can’t work out, I hope that we determine it early on. Butterflies are wonderful, but if they’re all coming out at once, there might be trouble looming not too far behind.
To make a short story of one of my dating experiences, I have been seeing a guy from one of these dating sites, and he seemed okay. Well, online he did.
In person, he was a little socially awkward, had a bit of a superiority complex, and he was a little too touchy-feely in public. Obviously, I let these shenanigans go on way too long simply because that one thing was actually pretty good. Don’t make me say it.
Anyway, we had plans to get together this past weekend, but his awkward abruptness got the better of him, and he ended up snubbing me over the phone. Me being me, I didn’t take well to his rudeness, so I tried to address it. Of course, then he has to go even further, taking a slight dig at my family’s chosen profession. This was a bad idea.
We argued a bit, neither wanting to back down, until I said I didn’t want to fight and that I thought we should reschedule our date. In my mind, we both needed to calm down and reflect a bit. I don’t like hanging out when I’m upset, because I refuse to fake affection or happiness. His response: best of luck to you.
So many things I wanted to say to him, but I just told him to take care. Really, it was going to end anyway, he wasn’t relationship material. His loss, and I can honestly say he probably can’t do better. Not to make me sound amazing, but who really wants to put up with a guy who is socially awkward, thinks he’s above his peers, is still aspiring to be a rapper, is trying to make a commercial gimmick using a hand puppet to make money, is living wherever people can spare a couch, oh the list goes on. Really? Best of luck?
Self-reflect, get some priorities and a car, find some stability, lose the rapper nonsense AND the puppet, and your best luck might bring you someone decent. But you should know that you never had, nor could you ever have had anything serious with me.
I’ve been on a serious Umami kick this past week. Exactly a week ago, a Hermosa Beach location opened, and I’ve been there three times already. I’m literally the “duchess” of Yelp check-ins there. I find this hysterical and yet strangely pleasing.
Featured in these photos would be the manly burger. Actually, two different manly burgers… and they were both DELICIOUS. Beer cheddar cheese is melted atop a medium rare, premium beef burger (that has never been injected with hormones or antibiotics). There are bacon lardons and fried onion strings atop the melty cheese, and there’s a sweet sauce under the burger patty. The bun is a slightly sweet, Portuguese bun with the Umami “U” branded right on top.
The smushed potatoes are double-fried, creamy potatoes that are smushed and sprinkled with Kosher salt. They’re then plated with garlic aioli and fresh cracked pepper. The sweet potato fries are crunchy on the outside, chewy on the inside, and have a sprinkling of something sweet and savory that makes them highly addictive.
They have good Belgian beers, and even better service. Definitely the best Umami location I’ve visited, and I intend to be back there as early as this weekend. See for yourself!
On my recent trip to Hawaii, I was afforded the opportunity to really get in some leisure reading. Prior to my trip, I had never actually heard of Patricia Cornwell before, but my roommate had a bunch of her books, and she said she was a really good murder-mystery writer. Anyone who knows me will tell you that I love me some James Patterson. So, I figured I’d give Ms. Cornwell a try.
I read two of her books, each in about a day. First, I read All That Remains. I think it’s important to note that this book is a part of a series. Much like Alex Cross is a major character for many of James Patterson’s novels, Dr. Kay Scarpetta plays a major role for Patricia Cornwell. A petite, savvy medical examiner, Scarpetta is easily relatable and even funny. She’s not afraid to be annoyed with her cohorts, she has a fiercely protective love over her niece, and she has her fair share of interesting relationships.
I digress. In All That Remains, young couples turn up missing only to be later found dead in the woods. The final couple to go missing raises alarm, because the missing female happens to be the daughter of very important political figure. As the search for the couple moves forward, Scarpetta and her crew get the distinct feeling that they’re not being provided with all of the information, and tempers flare through the frustration. As everything begins to unravel, no one is safe from the victim’s mother and her political reach in her effort to find the daughter’s abductor. The author really kept me guessing until the end.
The second book that I ready by Ms. Cornwell was Unnatural Exposure. Mind you, it is another Scarpetta novel, but it is not the next book in the series. I think it is several books after All That Remains in the series, but I made sure that I at least read the ones I had in order. This book begins with Scarpetta and the crew trying to uncover what they might be dealing with as several “bodies” have surfaced in nearby landfills. To make things even more difficult, the remains they’ve found at each site are only comprised of the torso of each victim — the head and all extremities have been cut off. Without teeth to match to dental records, or fingerprints to run through their databases, Scarpetta and her crew find themselves with a rising body count and no clues.
The book takes an interesting turn when the last torso found has a strange rash. When another body is found with a similar rash, Scarpetta realizes what the killer’s weapon is, and she risks her life in an effort to gain information about who the killer might be and how to stop him. I found this book to be much more gripping than the previous one, and I find myself wanting to go back and read all of the Scarpetta books to see how it all began and how Scarpetta progresses along the way. If you’re into CSI-type shows, I think you’ll find the Scarpetta series to be filled with really good reads.
Who doesn’t love a Hawaiian vacation? I mean, I’m sure there’s someone out there that doesn’t, but I love them. Beautiful sights and sunsets, lots to do, and warm welcomes. But I love the sense of calm that I find in Hawaii. True, warm aloha.
However, on a recent trip to Maui with my family, I’ve learned a valuable lesson: there is not necessarily a consensus on what constitutes a vacation. For instance, my parents are tourists (at least in my opinion). They’ve done their fair share of walking tours, they like to show off the places they’ve been before, and they try to maximize the amount of sights they see on each trip.
My brother, on the other hand, is less of a tourist, but I would say he is an adventurist. Whether it’s zip lining, snorkeling, or hiking to find the water falls, he’s down to get into something fun as long as he can also get in a little R&R.
But I don’t want to see a ton of sights, not do I consider myself crazy adventurous. Truth be told, I get motion sickness easily, I’m not always comfortable with high places, I’m terrified of most bugs and reptilian creatures, and I refuse to watch anything even remotely scary. I may have described myself as a boring homebody with no life, but I really am a social person; a fun-seeker that knows how to set up limitations. You won’t see me jumping from a plane or hanging from a rope just to zip through the air. I still have fun, people. Really!
So what’s my idea of vacation? If I have a week in Maui, which I recently did, I would want maybe one day of sightseeing, one day of light shopping, and then 5 days of sun, water, and relaxation. I brought six books with me. Needless to say, no one else seemed to want my kind of vacation. If I had it my way, the others would be upset for not “seeing” anything. But that’s just not true! If I knew someone coming back from Hawaii that said the only things they saw were the sunsets, the beaches, the pool, and they had the time to read a bunch of leisure books and improve their tan, I would be JEALOUS. I don’t want to be exhausted after my vacation. I took my vacation to relax and recharge.
There should be more of a distinction between a vacation, a thrill-seeking adventure trip, and a sightseeing tour. I’ll leave the latter two for the others. Just give me the vacations.
I’ve been wanting to try out Word Press for a while, but I wasn’t sure that I wanted to make the transition from Blogger. In the end, I decided to keep my other blogs rooted where they are, but I want to start something different here. Here, the plan (at least for now) is to review, share recipes, tell stories, and hopefully make you laugh. I love to use personal experience as the center of a good story, whether it’s funny or sad. Though I wish every story could be fun or having some happy, laughable ending, the reality is that I feel connected to others through the good and the bad. I hope anyone reading finds the upcoming entries relatable, if nothing else.