The cost of free food.

I had a volunteer meeting tonight, for which I raced out of the office. Ok, I still left half an hour later than intended, but when my client told me, "I'll only keep you for half an hour more..." I told him he had 15 minutes. It was worth it when I made it in time to grab a pre-meeting beer with fellow volunteers. All that stress and hurry, however, to listen to a large man with a girlishly high-pitched voice talk for an hour in front of PowerPoint slides that were pictures of forms.

I wonder what folks would say if I just went for the pre-meeting beer and then skipped the meeting?

I didn't turn my phone ringer back on until I was home, so I missed the call that came in while chatting with the neighbor. An unfamiliar number greeted me, along with the voicemail, "hey, it's (stupid male), you gave me your number a week ago... what's up?" What's up is that more than a week ago I maybe thought you should call me, but more than a week later, I'm pretty sure I don't care. And don't any of you out there tell me to give him a chance, that I'm too hard on those poor men-folk. Every time I cave to someone else's "just give him a chance" urgings I regret it. I don't think it's unreasonable to expect a call inside of a week. Also, I wasn't too sure I wanted to give him my digits in the first place - that's two times uncertain, and dating is not a three-strike ball game.

strongbad_email.exe

You never seen anything quite like these buttons!

(N.B. - The idea for this post is not mine. I saw Bill and Anna Friday night and she had read my last. As I told her more of the story, she said I reminded her of Strong Bad, and so, here we are. The following is obviously paraphrased.)

]Dear Astrowahoo,
You are so smart. I am not smart. Teach me about stars?
Sincerely,
Lack of Confidence, Maryland

a>Dear Lacking, My brother told me every day for the past week that I had not emailed you. To shut him up, I am emailing you. We live in a city, you can't see the stars. And the gift you sent me through him when I didn't respond right away? I already have one. Good luck growing a pair. Hoping we're done here, Astrowahoo.

]Dear Astrowahoo,
Thanks for your response, no worries it's over a week in coming, I will email you back the same night. I hear you like the zoo. Teach me about animals? Also, want to come over to my house for dinner a month from now? It will take me that long to think of something to say to you.
Hope to hear from you soon,
LC

]Dear Astrowahoo,
Only days ago, I asked about the zoo. Do we still have hipo there? My favorite. Hipos walk funny and make me think of Eeyore. Cute. Also, yay Friday.
Hope to hear from you soon,
LC

So, until next time, keep sending me your questions, and I will make fun of you, I mean, answer them.

I'm not emailing him back - I just can't. He misspelled hippo and spelled Eeyore correctly. I didn't even know how to spell Eeyore, and not being a 7-year-old girl, I'm not looking for a guy whose favorite cartoon character is a Disney creation.

The worst of it is, Momola read my last as a sigh over singledom, rather than a celebration that I'm not tied to an idiot. So, let's lay it out there - I'm glad I'm not tied to an idiot! Idiots often come with girl-motions and require long discussions about feelings and mush in between moments of extreme stupidity. Here's to finding a non-idiot, who doesn't take himself or me too seriously, with whom I can goof off and get laid. Until then? Bars. And batteries.

Things better left unsaid.

Recently, Christopher told me that in talking with a co-worker, the fact that I was a single girl in DC came up. The co-worker started asking about me and asked Christopher to introduce us. The response my lovely brother gave? "She doesn't like boys." Apparently then he heard the words coming out of his mouth, because he qualified it with, "I mean, she thinks boys are idiots." (OK, there is some truth there.) Not one to quit while he's behind, he elaborated with, "She's like Bones." For those of you not in the know, Bones is a character on tv - a forensic anthropologist who's scary smart, short on social skills, and meets cultural references with, "I don't understand." Since I'm not interacting on a daily basis with David Boreanaz, I don't see the upside of this comparison.

As a side note, Christopher did give said co-worker my email address, and the boy is cut from the "wow, you're so much smarter than I..." cloth. Makes me kind of wish Christopher had just stopped at, "she doesn't like boys."

This all happened in the same week a woman in my office saw my knitting in my bag - I'm knitting a little cap for Eric and Annie's baby boy in March - and I was told, "you knit and have a cat? That's so cute!" Seriously? Huh.

Twice upon a time...

It's a small world, and we've all had our moments when this fact hits us over the head...

Twice upon a time my friend Jane and I discovered that we were about to go on a date with a boy the other had already gone out with. One of us would start talking about a guy we'd recently met, and the other would say, "Wait, this sounds awfully familiar. What's his name?" We never told the first boy - I wonder if he recognized either or both of us a year later when we all ended up in the same bar? We did tell the second boy, however. He got a big kick out of it. And then neither Jane nor I called him back. I don't know if he found that funny.

Twice upon a time I've found myself standing in line at Starbucks, only to realize that I was right behind a boy I've gone out with - and never called back. My first thought each time was, "this is random," followed shortly by, "maybe he won't recognize me..." I've gotten pretty good at avoiding eye contact and paying a lot of attention to my iPod/cellphone/blackberry. I know the guy I saw the other morning knew me, but it was a horrible dating experience - so bad it wasn't even funny! - and I was not going to acknowledge him.

Meeting the neighbors...

Tonight I'm a little tipsy from wine and James Bond, but who wouldn't be affected by that combination??

Last night there was a tenants association meeting in my apartment building. My Very Attractive Neighbor was not there. I had been hopeful. I only see him occasionally, though we live on the same hall. I run into him sometimes as he walks his dog.

If I lived in a smaller building maybe I'd know more of my neighbors. There'd be a little old lady with a little nose and a big heart in everybody's business. One day she'd stop me and my Very Attractive Neighbor in the hall with "do you two dears know each other?" There'd be a gleam in her eye. And then we'd chat, and Very Attractive Neighbor would find me very charming. Kittay would learn to love his giant dog and we'd all live happily every after.

I need to move to a smaller building with a nosy little old lady...

You look good to me.

Once upon a time, a man whom I'd gone round and round with said those words to me. Said those words not with the flippancy you'd first think, but with an earnestness in voice and eye that said it wasn't me, that it was him behind our random walk of flirtation and unreturned phone calls. Kissing in his car while the snow fell outside and then not seeing him for months, it was his issues and hang-ups at work, not mine. I saw this and I smiled. Not being one for gracefully accepting compliments, I probably laughed it off. Deep down, however, I was gratified. Here was a man who smiled when he saw me, thought I was fascinating, and to whom I looked good. Suddenly it didn't matter that we would never get together; it was enough for me to hear those words and know he meant them.

Every woman should have that at least once.

I'm holding out for number two...

an institution is gone.

Over the past five years two men have become fixtures in my life: Charles Osgood and Tim Russert. My Sunday mornings revolved around the New York Times, a cup of coffee, and CBS Sunday Morning followed by Meet the Press. The introduction of cable into my home brought with it Keith Olbermann, Jon Stewart, and Stephen Colbert, but Charles and Tim were there first, and I never changed my Sunday routine. Rather, I would DVR Charles and Tim, so that when Christopher came over for brunch I could go back later and make sure I hadn't missed anything. So it was truly unbelievable to me to hear on Friday of Tim Russert's death. I still find it hard to think that he wont be sitting at the table on Sunday morning. Lots of people are paying tribute to him across the country, and it's impressive to see how many lives he touched. The story that occurred to me this weekend was truly blog-worthy, but somehow missed documentation (I went back and looked) - some might say it's not a fitting tale to tell at this moment, but I don't agree. One of the best first dates I've ever been on ended with watching Meet the Press on Sunday morning. It was back in Boston, and I'd met a boy who loved music, was intelligent, and, as it turned out, kept up with current events. We were at an amazing show - a new band for both of us, I'd heard good things and impressed the hell out of him - and were talking at one point about a recent development in the news. Boy said, "last week Tim Russert interviewed..." and I was gone. Good taste in live music, an interesting, thought-provoking job, and a fan of Tim's?? I'd thought it was too much to ask. We spent the next morning doing exactly what I always did on Sunday morning, and it was fantastic - he had me more excited than any boy in a long time - or since, for that matter. My folks knew I'd been out the night before and called to see how it went; when I didn't answer my phone during Sunday Morning they guessed the state of things. I talked to them later, and all Daddo said was, "Who ever heard of Tim Russert as a pick-up line?" Unfortunately, a month later boy wanted to pursue other things (girls), but at the time, it was wonderful.

My shi-shi bourgeois shoes got soaked today!

Recently I bought a new pair of shoes that I love inordinately. They weren't ridiculously expensive - only slightly humorously expensive. But they are both adorable and comfortable, so I love them. I've been avoiding wearing them on potentially rainy days, however, because I didn't think they would stand up well to moisture. I got caught in the rain on my way home tonight. It serves me right for loving something so silly.

I met Mr. Eyes for coffee tonight. There was a mix-up as to which coffee shop we were meeting at, so we ended up on the phone at different sides of Dupont, and met in the middle to sit by the fountain with our coffee. He's not an idiot, or socially awkward. His eyes are nice in person. He's got a cute butt. He's originally from India, but has been in the States for over a decade; he's got a nice accent. He's a good, but unimaginative kisser. There's a second date in the works.

Was it worth wet feet? I'll keep you posted...

Jane sent me this today, and I love it!

general mayhem.

So we've got a couple of big presentations coming up at work, my weekend involved volunteering at the zoo twice, going to a 13 inning baseball game (GO SOX!), lunch and shopping with the folks, wrestling two air conditioners into windows, melting a coffeepot, and a bad date with a boy.

After much discussion with some folks at work, I'm giving e-harmony a try - yes, it's started by a religious zealot, and they won't match homosexuals, which bothers me. There are a couple of things I like about it. The big one is that they do all the work, there's no searching through tens/hundreds/thousands of profiles - they send matches every day who are (according to them) compatible. Having gone through the questionaire involved in joining, I'll say that they asked some good questions, which would come to bear on mutual... I don't know that values is the right word, but lifestyle choices? Anyway, the "guided communication" is a lot more involved than other sites, but it is interesting. The other thing I like about it is that there seem to be a lot more people on the site - I've found that different sites are better in different geographic areas. I know the folks aren't thrilled with this as a way of meeting people, but I don't come in contact with a lot of eligible guys in the day to day.

So there was Good-on-Paper, who I'll just call Paper, who's emails were articulate, well thought out, and while not funny, were interesting. Paper looked cute, in a dorky way, and it seemed promising, especially when he suggested we get together at an art exhibit. The man carried a tote bag. He took the elevator down one flight of stairs, twice. When I suggested we take the stairs he said, "If the elevator doesn't come soon, there aren't many people here." Not the point, buddy. Not. The. Point. So there we are in the exhibit, and he expresses a wish for more "scientific" art. We round a corner and come across a series of geometric prints - "not patterns," Paper says, "science." I don't know what that means. Finally, we get to the part of the exhibit where the Peeps dioramas are - the dioramas that were in the Washington Post around Easter - complete with Reservoir Peeps, and the soundtrack playing in the background! Little Green Bag!! That was my favorite Peep diorama, naturally, something about a marshmellow bunny with an ear cut off is just hilarious. So there I am smiling at murderous Peeps, when Paper says, "um, yeah, I don't like this art." That was the longest sentence he said that wasn't a complaint about DC not being as good as San Francisco. The rest was monosyllabic answers followed by silence. Awkward silence. Luckily I'd shown up late due to forgotten Metro repairs, and he had to go meet up with friends, so we weren't there that long - I kind of want that 40 minutes back.

Tomorrow night I'm meeting another guy, who's answers were more terse, but who I've actually spoken with briefly on the phone and seems capable of full sentence responses. I call him Mr. Eyes, because in one of his photos his eyes are quite piercing. I'll keep you posted.

Others? There are a few, but none that have yet earn monikers. I'm debating with myself as to whether an affinity for Dan Brown is a justification for not communicating with a boy - it sure feels like it. Seriously? Those books are horrible!!

Then there's the guy who I was trying to be open minded about as we went through the form questions, his responses were lackluster, but it also seemed that English was his second language, and that would make this a tougher forum. However, tonight he sent me an email and got my name wrong. He wrote an email to "Alexi." I don't know who that is, but it is not me. And yes, it's close, but it's not my name; I am nothing that ends in "i" or any such nonsense. If you can't be bothered to check the spelling on a girl's name, then you deserve to be single. I'm trying to decide if it's mean to send him an email saying, "dude, you spelled my name wrong" before I close the match - and even if it's mean, I'm tempted to do it, anyway.

So if nothing else, there's some promising material for funny stories in the near future.