Archive | January, 2012

Single, Nursing Mother Searches for Companion

27 Jan

I made the ridiculous decision of having a New Year’s resolution for 2012. Don’t get me wrong—I absolutely love setting personal goals and working toward them.  Blame it on the Catholic guilt that has stayed with me long after my relationship with organized religion has or on the fact that I really, really hate not keeping promises to ANYONE including myself. Either way, I’m damn good at making and achieving my goals because I pretty much see it as a promise that I can’t back down on. Which is good, but bad…

With that being said, my 2012 New Year’s Resolution is to go on at least two dates a month. It doesn’t have to be the same person twice, it doesn’t even have to be anything meaningful, just getting myself out there and away from men that I have previously fallen for who either live a million miles away, are still living the lifestyle of a college student on their parents’ budgets or decide that they actually like men (he didn’t admit it, but I know it’s true).

I decided to two-time the system by signing up for not only OK Cupid, but also a three month subscription to Match.com. To quote Zombieland, it was time for me to nut up or shut up.

My daily routine during the work week has become the quintessential portrait of the single mother: I come home, I make dinner, I sit on my couch and I nurse my child cat while scouring the two websites for a shred of hope.

My kitten Charlie, who was abandoned by his mother, has apparently come to the conclusion that my shirt is his sustenance. I found out that this is called ‘dry nursing’ after Googling the exact search phrase ‘kitten sucking and licking shirt.’ If the CIA is tapping into my computer God only know what they think. So, I sift through the messages from bald, fat men old enough to be my father and instant messages that are peppered with so much poor grammar that I almost reach for a red Sharpie and start proofreading the screen in disgust all while partaking in my own wet t-shirt contest hosted by my kitten. It’s gotten to the point where I keep old shirts lying around that I change into once the dry nursing has subsided.

The aftermath.

The aftermath.

Trying to date men online that you really don’t know is kind of like dry nursing, though: you’re basically trying to find a shred of comfort and hope by sucking on the dry teat of date sites held together by shoddy algorithms. Most of the time, however, you find that you’ve done all that you’ve can and all you’re left with is an awkward, uncomfortable mess that is nothing like the natural thing. Either way, I suppose I still have some hope left…I just think that I have a lot of shirt changes to go through until I find something worth keeping.

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How I Spent My New Year’s Eve Weekend

1 Jan

It’s almost 7pm and I have just finished eating fish sticks and watching Thoroughly Modern Millie on YouTube. To many that would seem pathetic but, to me, it is yet another reminder that I can find entertainment in just about anything.

Take this weekend, for example.

Friday nights are usually pretty quiet for me now that I’m out of college and away from friends. In order to compensate for a lack of a social life, I did what any normal girl would do: I snuggled with my cat and watched Mansfield Park on Netflix. The worst part? I laughed more while watching that movie than I have with any movie I’ve seen in a while. I have always loved Jane Austen but was once again reminded of how witty and brilliant her form of storytelling is. Although I am sure many would disagree with me, I think Fanny Price is such an amazing character. I identified with her focus on entertaining herself through writing, her sarcastic view toward society and male suitors as well as the fact that she so eagerly tried to protect her heart. As she says in the story, “Run mad as often as you choose but do not faint.” Damn straight, Jane Austen!

My New Year’s Eve began with me researching how to properly open a champagne bottle on YouTube. I received a free bottle from my employer and had the brilliant idea of a quiet night in drinking mimosas and pigging out on Chinese food. No part of that plan went well.

I had heard about this amazing Chinese restaurant toward the more ghetto-y end of Cleveland that made delicious, homemade Chinese food. I had avoided any takeout for about three months and, in an attempt to treat myself, went all out and ordered a General Tso’s combo platter and a three pack of crab rangoon. Ten minutes later, I found myself standing in front of a Chinese restaurant decorated with graffiti. I actually had to knock on the door to be let in. That’s how ghetto it was. As I walked inside, I was greeted by what seemed like an entire Chinese clan just standing around and staring at me. The young man working the counter was so awkward and shy that he continuously lowered his head and looked down while I tried to make conversation as the food was being cooked.

“Which order did you have?” he asked. “The #22 combo with the crab rangoon,” I said in the direction of his reverently lowered head. His face broke into a grin as he said, “Ahh yes, the BIG order!” Thanks for making me feel like a fatty, awkward Asian dude.

I raced home and was so excited to dive into some legit Chinese food. As I opened the box, the first thing I noticed was not the homemade egg roll nor the delicious smell wafting into the air but, instead, the long strand of black hair lining the inside of the box. Being the reptard that I am, I flicked the hair away and decided that it hadn’t technically touched the food so maybe I was okay. As I was eating, though, I had a sneaking suspicion that Mr. Black Hair and I would soon meet again. I was right: he was also hiding in the crab rangoon. Disgusted, I tossed my entire $10 dinner in the trash and proceeded to cut my hand while opening the bottle of champagne. I guess watching five YouTube videos wasn’t enough.

Lastly, I spent the evening with a friend whose boyfriend was working until 1am at a pizza shop. We ended up meeting him at Marco’s Pizza and watching the ball drop there. That’s right, I spent my New Year’s eve in a pizza shop.

I would have much rather kissed this little guy on NYE. And, yes, he actually did fall asleep like that.

My weekend culminated with a slightly awkward but not too horrible first date with a guy that I met on OKCupid. I’m not sure where it’s going to go but I’m not entirely excited about it, which is probably a bad sign.

Until I find someone that I’m actually attracted to (which is a feat in itself), I suppose I’ll be happy eating my fish sticks, watching musicals and cracking up during Jane Austen movie adaptations. Life could be worse!

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