12 Matches of Christmas!

Oh, OKCupid.  Right when internet dating was making me want to kill myself, you go do something like this and TOTALLY REDEEM YOURSELF!  That's right, 12 Matches of Christmas.  And so far, they have been people I've never "viewed" before, which is refreshing.  So, the first guy (pictured here) seemed like a huge douchey tool so I didn't message him, but I messaged the next two!  Just because OKCupid told me to.
I'm sure none of these yuletide charmers will reply, but hey, a girl's gotta try, especially when, daily, one man is laid out on a silver platter for her!

Is it too much to ask . . .

Camping

. . . for a dude who wants to watch Misfits on Monday nights (or the first free night following Monday) wants to go see every comedy, action or action-comedy movie with me, along with approximately 1 indie movie a month for which we will have to travel to Kendall, wants to go see stand up once a month, financial circumstances permitting, wants to go camping two times per year between June and October, likes eating baked goods and a wide variety of cuisines, has fewer than 10 things on the list of "normal" foods he refuses to eat (I don't consider sweetbreads "normal"), enjoys wearing hand knitted hats, will attend (approximately) quarterly family engagements, will drive me to and pick me up from the airport (approximately 2x annually), wants to spend at least several days or evenings per week with me, likes my cat, will laugh at my jokes and tell me my blog is funny?

Camping, with family!

Baking!

Knitted Hat and family!

Family!

Baked goods for family!

Family and camping!

Family gathering!

Baked goods!

Cat!

Two kitty pics because she's so cute!

I guess so.  Yet I wait.

All About: Giant McBunnyman

Apparently a very bad drawing of GMcB
kissing his bunny (that's not a euphemism)

Giant McBunnyman (GMcB) and I have been occasionally communicating over the past several weeks and it would appear we are going out tomorrow.  He is giantly tall and has a bunny, so obviously, I am already in love with him.

However, my love is already waning due to his inconsistent communication.  You may have heard I once had douche-bag boyfriend with whom I stayed far too long.  One of the intolerable traits I tolerated was his intermittent desire to spend time with me, as evidenced by the obnoxiously long time spans that would pass with nary a word from the aforementioned douche (I was stupid for staying with him and this was only one of a thousand issues we had, but that is neither here nor there).

So, the point is, I hate and will no longer tolerate, being ignored.  Now understand, I do not demand that someone I have not yet met talk to me every day.  In fact, I do not enjoy when people I consider to be very close friends talk to me every day.  But rather, I appreciate when people show up for dates, reply to texts/emails/voicemails, and otherwise acknowledge my existence even when it isn't that one day per month when that persons desire to get laid outweighs their selfish laziness (woah, my involuntary swallowing reflex doesn't work, but my ranting reflex sure is healthy)

Dear friends, I am simply noting, for the record, the pinkish-hued flag (which could become glaringly red at a moment's notice) of intermittent communication.  I also must highlight his self-proclaimed occasional hermit tendencies.  This could very easily mean that he simply enjoys a time out from social situations from time to time, but it could also mean he likes to ignore everyone he knows for weeks at a time when he feels particularly self-pitying and douchey.

I really do not intend to start off on a negative foot with this guy.  But, there are a few potential behaviors that unfortunately mimic some of the worst traits of my scumbag ex and I am merely trying to be cognizant of these facts.  Add to that my tendency to push away people I like before they can reject me, and, well, I don't know.  When did this turn in to a self-pitying self-analysis blog?  Gross.

Chances are excellent that all of these concerns will be rendered moot once I actually go on a date with GMcB and he realizes that a. I haven't mastered the most basic life-sustaining skills that most toddlers can handle with ease and b. two beers pretty much makes me talk like I write this blog - obnoxiously and without end.

Ugh, I can't believe I just word-vomited all over this previously succinctly eloquent blog.

Gamemaster: Near-Death Experience Edition

Are you aware of the hypothesis that there are remnants of our cave-man genes that result in our attraction to traits exhibiting evolutionary advantages?  I.e., a dude being attracted to ladies with big hips, so they can have lots of babies so hopefully one or two of them will live into adulthood and carry on his genes?  I think I failed to exhibit a very important trait that would suggest my Darwinian chances of survival: the ability to chew and swallow ones food and live through the experience.  I'm sure cave-ladies used to really like cave-gents who could wrestle a bear and then eat it - something that required great strength and bravery, and could nourish a family.  Well, Gamemaster, you've now witnessed me wrestle a piece of macaroni and cheese with my esophagus, and barely win, a feat which requires only involuntary organ reflexes.  Yikes.

It is really embarassing to be choking on a very tiny speck of food: not because one is worried about their imminent death, but rather, because ones body is violently attempting to expel a foreign object and one has basically no control over this.  Tears stream, face turns red; holding up a napkin can only slightly mask the absurd facial contortions and bodily convulsions resulting from my body's rejection of a speck of semolina.  I don't even care what Gamemaster thinks of me, I wasn't particularly taken with him.  Yet, I wanted the booth to open up and swallow me whole until I was over my choking episode.  It didn't help that the people sitting very close to our right could easily tell we were on a first date and were worried about my pending death by asphyxiation - I would have stared too, fellow diners, I would  have stared too.

First "Date": Chuckles Edition

So, I don't know how many people saw it, but my post last night, while accurate, was mean.  SO here is a less mean version.  I don't think I can say too much about the date other than it was mercifully short.  And he DEFINITELY doesn't look like Mark Duplass.  Anything else would be too mean.  The point of this blog is to have some fun and encourage me to say yes and do things I wouldn't normally do, not ridicule and judge people who don't deserve it.

But, the last thing I want to do is deprive my friends of absurd pictures of me and my cat, so I will just have to let these photos speak for my night.

You will notice that, in this photo, Layla is judging the size
of my glass of wine

Monday night is tapas with Gamemaster.  I said some unkind things about him, as well, but he's actually been quite charming and flirtatious in his correspondence, and I've been my usual idiotic self.  Again, not expecting lasting love, but, he could take a shit on the dinner table and it would still be an improvement over last night.