I spent last night, cuddled up on the couch watching End of Days on American Movie Channel (AMC...) last night. I'd like to take this moment to point out how un-hermit like this was. I was housesitting at the time. So, I was cuddled up on someone else's couch and not my own. Yes, I was watching the movie alone (becuase I really don't know anyone other than myself who would watch End of Days with commercials).
Anyhow, I digress. Before I figured out that you can pause, rewind and fast-forward through afore-mentioned commercials, I ended up watching some (read: A LOT OF COMMERCIALS). I saw a few (far too many) for Chantix, the quit-smoking-drug. Some more for Advair, the anti-asthma drug. Tylenol (ah, my good friend lately) commercials were fairly prevalent. So, we obviously LIKE DRUGS. But, count all of the drug commercials combined and they don't equal the number of crappy eHarmony commercials I saw!!
eHarmony is tricky and features all these happy couples that were matched, courtesy of eHarmony's services. So, one sits and watches these commercials. Then, a certain, single lady might find herself building a new-age fairy tale in her brain. The story goes a little like this:
Girl was watching TV all by herself (cue scenes from Bridget Jones' Diary). Girl sees happy couple made during a movie. Then the movie changes to Online Dating Service commercial and more happy couples abound. Girl is so taken in by all these happy couples! She dreams of one day, building herself an Online Dating Profile and meeting Prince Charming. Girl spends at least a week building the perfect Online Dating Profile. She debates over how to describe herself. She agonizes over how to describe her Prince Charming. Yet, after all her hard work, she finally produces the perfect Online Dating Profile. Filled with hope and snapshots of Prince Charming, Girl pays her Online Dating Service fee and posts her perfect Online Dating Profile. Immediately, her Online Dating Inbox is full of romantic notes from a host of prospective suitors. Upon reading profiles, she instantly identifies HER Prince Charming! They agree to meet for coffee, a no-pressure first date. Their coffee date stretches into a movie, followed by dinner. The Perfect Couple is born!
Allow me to insert a few items into this fairy tale, purely for the sake of accuracy. One, did you know that it literally takes FOREVER to build your profile for these dating web sites? I have tried the eHarmony profile TWICE. The first time, I got bored not even halfway through. The second time, I was astounded by the amount of money they wanted to charge me. I could go buy myself an escort for that price. Maybe that solution doesn't provide a Happy Ever After, but so far, neither has my online dating experience. At least with an escort, your results are 99% GUARANTEED.
During my last foray into the online dating world, I finally made a commitment to the process. As I've mentioned, I've tried this online dating thing a few times and haven't really had any luck. But this last time, I started to wonder if maybe I wasn't doing enough to make this work. So, I paid my money (not the highway robbery of eHarmony...) and made the perfect profile (which still took me forever).
For about a week after my commitment, I signed on every day. I checked my email and communicated with a few guys. Call me picky (everyone else does...) but nothing really struck me. Actually, let me rephrase. Quite a few things struck me. For example, the guy who "divorced me before we ever got married" (yeah - NOT KIDDING). Or another example, a guy who invited me to a friend's wedding as a first date. Honestly folks, these are completely true. After a few of these wondrous chats, my enthusiasm waned. It waned until the point where I wasn't getting online at all. So, basically, I'd wasted my money. It thrills me to admit that. I really feel pretty free now. Imagine my free feeling when I say that I wasted not one charge but two!? Because, I'd forgotten that they automatically charge you to renew unless you specifically cancel your account. I really hate that feature with any 'membership' type purchase.
Do you have to do as much work to find a date as you do to earn your college degree? Honestly, had I been taking classes during the summer semester, I think my coursework would have suffered in the face of trying to find a date! I mean, the dating world is full of enough bad experiences - even when you're talking about the traditional boy-meets-girl situation. Do you have to add an SAT test (I mean PROFILE) to the process? Not to mention, daily homework in the form of email back and forth to at least ten different people? I probably should have really shown my commitment. I mean, I could have created index cards to try and remember who each guy was and what we had said to one another. But, the conversations generally all start the same. Sometimes, you get an original (like...divorce before marriage...). And finally, I'm not really the type of girl who gets any spark from an email chat. So, if I was really dedicated, I would have made coffee dates with each and every one of these gentlemen. Talk about a lot of work! Not only would my college coursework have suffered, but I'd probably have to cut back on hours at work as well.
Wow. I didn't really mean my rant to be quite so, um, ranty. But, if I'm saying that I'm unhappy with dating, then I am REALLY UNHAPPY with online dating. I know there are people who have made a success from their online dating experience (Yep, I really do know people in this category). And obviously, these people have been blessed with a magical quality that I'm lacking. Maybe I wasn't ecstatic about watching Arnold duke it out with the devil, on commercial TV, by myself. But it sure was better than trying to date online!!
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Friday, August 28, 2009
TV is damaging my brain
Let me start by acknowledging the fact that my brain is pretty fertile ground for damage at this time. So, when I watch TV shows that take place in exciting cities or movies with Cinderella-story plotlines, it's a safe bet that I will be enchanted and long to adopt a new life.
For example... Recently, I started watching the show Las Vegas. This is an older show. It is 100% escapist TV, which I basically require for any TV show I watch. So, I think this show is fun and appealing. I get to indulge all my men fantasies, as this show is packed to the gills with guys I find attractive. And then, as I'm into my 4th episode for the night, I start to think... Hey, what if I moved to Las Vegas. I bet my life would be exactly like this show. This is where the danger starts.
Dangerous why, you wonder? Well, my guess is that if you found someone in Las Vegas working in any bigtime casino job, they'd probably have a fault or two with the show - not the least of which being that every episode has a happy ending. I'm fairly certain that this isn't so commonplace in real-life Las Vegas. Especially when you start adding hit men, strippers and thieves to the mix. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
Anyway, I'd just like to point out that I'm having a really hard time not picking up and moving South.
For example... Recently, I started watching the show Las Vegas. This is an older show. It is 100% escapist TV, which I basically require for any TV show I watch. So, I think this show is fun and appealing. I get to indulge all my men fantasies, as this show is packed to the gills with guys I find attractive. And then, as I'm into my 4th episode for the night, I start to think... Hey, what if I moved to Las Vegas. I bet my life would be exactly like this show. This is where the danger starts.
Dangerous why, you wonder? Well, my guess is that if you found someone in Las Vegas working in any bigtime casino job, they'd probably have a fault or two with the show - not the least of which being that every episode has a happy ending. I'm fairly certain that this isn't so commonplace in real-life Las Vegas. Especially when you start adding hit men, strippers and thieves to the mix. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
Anyway, I'd just like to point out that I'm having a really hard time not picking up and moving South.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Back To School, Back To School
By the way, the title of this blog ABSOLUTELY MUST be sung in the Billy Madison voice...
It’s Back To School time. This probably isn’t too much of announcement to most of you. If you’ve set foot in a Target or Wal-mart lately, then you were probably blasted with all sorts of Back To School advertising, sales and stuff! When I walk through aisles of new backpacks and lunch boxes, I can’t help but catch a little bit of the Back To School fever.
When I was younger, say junior high school age, I distinctly remember being really excited to start school in the fall. Starting school, for me, meant new school clothes and the possibility of new friends or a new adventure. I particularly remember starting the 7th grade. I moved to a new school so I was faced with the prospect of finding new friends or surviving junior high alone. I started school with the idea of slightly reinventing myself. My Back To School wardrobe that year was a little more mature and a little bit different than anything I’d ever picked before – or, at least, I thought so. I loaded up on knee-high socks that year. At the time, I thought I was ROCKING. I have since learned that knee-high socks in Utah in August generally amount to sweaty torture. In addition to all my wardrobe dilemmas, I was tackling all the nuances of junior high school that all 7th graders face. For example, picking out SEVEN classes. From those classes, I had a seemingly huge variety from which to choose – languages, crafts, arts, drama, etc. So, long story short – the prospect of making all these decisions was exciting to me and that made starting school exciting.
My junior high years are long behind me now. But, school has been at least a small portion of a lot of those years since. School will probably continue to be a part of my life for many years to come – considering the fact that it takes me four times longer to finish anything than other “normal” people. But, I digress. My point is that, even though I’m kind of “old hat” at the school game now, I am still surprisingly excited to start classes here soon. Call me crazy. In fact, in a week or two, I’ll look at this post and I’ll be calling myself crazy. At that time, I expect to be bogged down with homework and really dreading going to my Philosophy class once a week… Crazy probably won’t begin to describe my brain at that time or any time between September and December. However, right now, I am still excited about starting school.
I find myself wondering why. I mean, I no longer get myself a Back To School wardrobe (although maybe I should – what a good excuse to buy new clothes!). I haven’t really established any wonderful, long-lasting friendships as a result of school in quite a few years. Anymore, school is just another thing for me to stuff in my schedule and an AWESOME opportunity to spend a lot of money! Yet I’m excited anyway and I still don’t know why…
It’s Back To School time. This probably isn’t too much of announcement to most of you. If you’ve set foot in a Target or Wal-mart lately, then you were probably blasted with all sorts of Back To School advertising, sales and stuff! When I walk through aisles of new backpacks and lunch boxes, I can’t help but catch a little bit of the Back To School fever.
When I was younger, say junior high school age, I distinctly remember being really excited to start school in the fall. Starting school, for me, meant new school clothes and the possibility of new friends or a new adventure. I particularly remember starting the 7th grade. I moved to a new school so I was faced with the prospect of finding new friends or surviving junior high alone. I started school with the idea of slightly reinventing myself. My Back To School wardrobe that year was a little more mature and a little bit different than anything I’d ever picked before – or, at least, I thought so. I loaded up on knee-high socks that year. At the time, I thought I was ROCKING. I have since learned that knee-high socks in Utah in August generally amount to sweaty torture. In addition to all my wardrobe dilemmas, I was tackling all the nuances of junior high school that all 7th graders face. For example, picking out SEVEN classes. From those classes, I had a seemingly huge variety from which to choose – languages, crafts, arts, drama, etc. So, long story short – the prospect of making all these decisions was exciting to me and that made starting school exciting.
My junior high years are long behind me now. But, school has been at least a small portion of a lot of those years since. School will probably continue to be a part of my life for many years to come – considering the fact that it takes me four times longer to finish anything than other “normal” people. But, I digress. My point is that, even though I’m kind of “old hat” at the school game now, I am still surprisingly excited to start classes here soon. Call me crazy. In fact, in a week or two, I’ll look at this post and I’ll be calling myself crazy. At that time, I expect to be bogged down with homework and really dreading going to my Philosophy class once a week… Crazy probably won’t begin to describe my brain at that time or any time between September and December. However, right now, I am still excited about starting school.
I find myself wondering why. I mean, I no longer get myself a Back To School wardrobe (although maybe I should – what a good excuse to buy new clothes!). I haven’t really established any wonderful, long-lasting friendships as a result of school in quite a few years. Anymore, school is just another thing for me to stuff in my schedule and an AWESOME opportunity to spend a lot of money! Yet I’m excited anyway and I still don’t know why…
Monday, August 10, 2009
I CAN DO IT
I had an awesome running weekend. For one, I did it two days in a row. Let me tell you that if you know of my love/hate relationship with running, you'd see why I'd feel the need to brag. For two, I pushed myself farther than I ever have! I arrived home from both runs feeling heartily accomplished.
And this feeling was in no way affected by the Superheroes running at Liberty Park! Props to these folks. I swear, the ladies and gentlemen who were cruising right past me were taking a break from their regular day-to-day activities, to include saving the world. The Flash is a regular - he's that guy whom I see twice during my one loop around the park. Wonder Woman also makes frequent appearances. She's the one who comes up from behind me and motors on by, as if winged. And let's not forget Superman! He's the one who rescues me halfway around and carries me home... Oh wait, I made that one up. No one but me carries me home. And that is perfectly fine.
Honestly, what a freaking inspiration! I mean, it doesn't really make me run any faster. I wave from the cheap seats as these mega-athletes go flying by me (and then again when they've gone home, showered, changed and are driving to dinner...) But, it does make me think twice the next time I'm close to chickening out.
And this feeling was in no way affected by the Superheroes running at Liberty Park! Props to these folks. I swear, the ladies and gentlemen who were cruising right past me were taking a break from their regular day-to-day activities, to include saving the world. The Flash is a regular - he's that guy whom I see twice during my one loop around the park. Wonder Woman also makes frequent appearances. She's the one who comes up from behind me and motors on by, as if winged. And let's not forget Superman! He's the one who rescues me halfway around and carries me home... Oh wait, I made that one up. No one but me carries me home. And that is perfectly fine.
Honestly, what a freaking inspiration! I mean, it doesn't really make me run any faster. I wave from the cheap seats as these mega-athletes go flying by me (and then again when they've gone home, showered, changed and are driving to dinner...) But, it does make me think twice the next time I'm close to chickening out.
Personal Enhancement
And not that kind...
No, this is the process where I try to grow as a person. I would describe myself as an avid reader. However, I do read a bunch of crap - to be bluntly honest. Not that I don't love my books all the same. My favorites are murder mysteries, romances and, most especially, when the two are combined! So, not surprisingly, my favorite authors tend to include Nora Roberts (also JD Robb), Heather Graham, Linda Howard, Judith McNaught, Patricia Cornwell...you get the picture. I appreciate all of these books. They're an excellent escape for me. 99% of the time, I can dive right in and read cover to cover. A blizzard outside? No way! But I think anyone who knows anything about these novels knows that they aren't really the cream of the literary crop. So, as much as I love my stories, I try to branch out and read something new.
Approximately one out of every ten books, I move toward a different genre. This has proven to be a great formula for me. It keeps my regular stories fresh and it lets me experience other types of writing. Sources for finding such reads are few and far between, but I seem to manage anyhow. My latest find came from the Salt Lake County Library staff picks. I've used this list before and found it helpful. It's not updated frequently though, so I can only use it every so often. This time, I was drawn to a novel titled The Crying Tree, by Naseem Rakha. I read only the first sentence or two of the synopsis and found myself intrigued. Usually, I can tell just that quickly. I checked out a copy from my local library (a wonderful location...but more about that some other time).
Like I haven't been able to do in a while, I dove right into this book. The best description I can think of is heart-wrenching. The story is really too complex for a synopsis - especially by someone so limited as myself - but here I go... The story follows a close-knit family of four, originally from a small town in Illinois. Their story begins with a move that uproots the family from everything they've ever known and brings them to yet another small town in Oregon. When tragic events befall the family, the reader becomes involved in the breakdown of the family. Rakha keeps the reader involved in this horribly sensitive story easily, by moving seamlessly throughout time - back and forth, as if you yourself are living day to day, struck by horrible memories.
My own life has been somewhat sheltered from death and tragedy. Though what I have experienced echoed many of the sentiments that Rakha wove throughout her tale. The desperation, emptiness and anger that emote throughout the story are described so well that you might think you were feeling these things yourself. Then, when any character experiences personal growth or happiness, the reader can't help but to be buoyed by these feelings - however transient.
Needless to say, this book impressed me. I was astounded by Rakha's ability to approach such sensitive subject matter. The author's intelligence and sensitivity are evident in the way she handcrafted her characters and built their story. Though I'd consider the novel a difficult read and not to be undertaken lightly, I'd recommend it to all.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Pain is beauty!
I have finally realized that brains will get you nowhere. It's all about good looks, ladies (and any gentlemen who might be interested). Should I share how I came to the realization? OKAY!
I added a fun component to my workout routine last night. Dance Body Beautiful, the workout DVD by Dancing with the Stars alum Lisa Rinna. And boy, I could learn to love looking like that lady! So, I started the DVD as soon as I got home and turned into a DANCING FOOL. I was shaking and sweating and having a wonderful time! Come 30 minutes into the session, my feet started to hurt. It was akin to someone holding the balls of my feet to a bonfire. Seriously. I tried to move so that my dance steps took place on the heavenly cool of my tile, but I still had to wander onto the carpet. Every time my feet touched the carpet, it was like walking on hot coals. Why would such a tragic event befall me? I was doing my best to shake my bootie and keeping in shape. Look at the good things I was doing for my body!!
I WASN'T WEARING SHOES. After so many pivots and sashays across the carpet, I had basically rubbed my feet raw. Walking is a bit of a chore today. I have blisters the size of quarters on the balls of my feet.
I would like to ask why they didn't post the instruction: "Please wear shoes while using this workout video." But I won't. I despise when people don't use their common sense and put their thinking caps on. I sure won't stoop to that level myself. But, I obviously demonstrated the size of my brain throughout this whole debacle. It's a good thing that I really enjoyed Dance Body Beautiful. At least I'll still have my beauty...just ignore the soles of my feet.
I added a fun component to my workout routine last night. Dance Body Beautiful, the workout DVD by Dancing with the Stars alum Lisa Rinna. And boy, I could learn to love looking like that lady! So, I started the DVD as soon as I got home and turned into a DANCING FOOL. I was shaking and sweating and having a wonderful time! Come 30 minutes into the session, my feet started to hurt. It was akin to someone holding the balls of my feet to a bonfire. Seriously. I tried to move so that my dance steps took place on the heavenly cool of my tile, but I still had to wander onto the carpet. Every time my feet touched the carpet, it was like walking on hot coals. Why would such a tragic event befall me? I was doing my best to shake my bootie and keeping in shape. Look at the good things I was doing for my body!!
I WASN'T WEARING SHOES. After so many pivots and sashays across the carpet, I had basically rubbed my feet raw. Walking is a bit of a chore today. I have blisters the size of quarters on the balls of my feet.
I would like to ask why they didn't post the instruction: "Please wear shoes while using this workout video." But I won't. I despise when people don't use their common sense and put their thinking caps on. I sure won't stoop to that level myself. But, I obviously demonstrated the size of my brain throughout this whole debacle. It's a good thing that I really enjoyed Dance Body Beautiful. At least I'll still have my beauty...just ignore the soles of my feet.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Dating and all its quirkiness
Blind dating, fix ups... Their very nature dooms them for failure. Allow me to present:
The (abridged) History of the Blind Date - Jesse's Version
The cavelady and her cavehusband had two cave friends that they decided might like one another. After all, these cave friends were the last cave people who hadn't found someone. So, actually, these cave friends might be forced to like one another or die alone...because there was no one left to choose. So, this cave group gathered for a cave dinner (which involved precariously raw meat, some berries and a raging bonfire) and the cave group made a lot of small talk. Who knows exactly what topics arose? My guess is that politics or religion somehow managed to nose their way into the conversation. History has taught us that these two items are dating taboo...definitely not that ligher fare conversation that you strive for on a first date. Anyhow, I digress... I imagine that politics and/or religion reared their ugly heads. And somehow, the nice dinner turned into a huge mess. The two cave friends decided to become cave not-friends and decided they'd rather be alone forever than to choose one another.
And that's why the blind date is called the Blind Date. Had this first blind date been an enormous success, people would have called it something else...like the Amazing Date. People would be coming for miles and miles to try Amazing Dates. Instead, these first two co-conspirators decided to be somewhat humane and call it the Blind Date. The other option was to call it the Really Uncomfortable (Bad) Date. But, that's an awfully long name for a date...right?? The fix up was slang that obviously came later. The fix up doesn't imply anything that is more amazing than the blind date either - it just masks things a bit better. Really, the fix up says "Something is broken and someone should fix it!"
This is not to say that all blind dates or fixups are inevitably horrible. They're not. I've been on a few. My experience is, sadly enough, that more of them are closer to the Really Uncomfortable (Bad) Date than they are to the Amazing Date. But, occassionally, you run into the Blind Date where you manage to achieve the top goal...or at least, it's my top goal.
Writer's note: I will choose hockey for my next metaphor because it has the potential to be violent and it's always entertaining or interestesting to someone - both qualities to be found in every blind date.
We start this blind date as opposing teams on opposite ends of the ice rink. We skate throughout the game, trying to score goals...goals such as:
The (abridged) History of the Blind Date - Jesse's Version
The cavelady and her cavehusband had two cave friends that they decided might like one another. After all, these cave friends were the last cave people who hadn't found someone. So, actually, these cave friends might be forced to like one another or die alone...because there was no one left to choose. So, this cave group gathered for a cave dinner (which involved precariously raw meat, some berries and a raging bonfire) and the cave group made a lot of small talk. Who knows exactly what topics arose? My guess is that politics or religion somehow managed to nose their way into the conversation. History has taught us that these two items are dating taboo...definitely not that ligher fare conversation that you strive for on a first date. Anyhow, I digress... I imagine that politics and/or religion reared their ugly heads. And somehow, the nice dinner turned into a huge mess. The two cave friends decided to become cave not-friends and decided they'd rather be alone forever than to choose one another.
And that's why the blind date is called the Blind Date. Had this first blind date been an enormous success, people would have called it something else...like the Amazing Date. People would be coming for miles and miles to try Amazing Dates. Instead, these first two co-conspirators decided to be somewhat humane and call it the Blind Date. The other option was to call it the Really Uncomfortable (Bad) Date. But, that's an awfully long name for a date...right?? The fix up was slang that obviously came later. The fix up doesn't imply anything that is more amazing than the blind date either - it just masks things a bit better. Really, the fix up says "Something is broken and someone should fix it!"
This is not to say that all blind dates or fixups are inevitably horrible. They're not. I've been on a few. My experience is, sadly enough, that more of them are closer to the Really Uncomfortable (Bad) Date than they are to the Amazing Date. But, occassionally, you run into the Blind Date where you manage to achieve the top goal...or at least, it's my top goal.
Writer's note: I will choose hockey for my next metaphor because it has the potential to be violent and it's always entertaining or interestesting to someone - both qualities to be found in every blind date.
We start this blind date as opposing teams on opposite ends of the ice rink. We skate throughout the game, trying to score goals...goals such as:
- Funny joke! Score 1
- Witty / sarcastic comeback! Score 1
- No spilling! Score 2 (this is really important and generally unattainable to me)
When the game is finally over, we tally up the scores. You might possibly end up with a zero on one or both sides. This means that both teams will run to the locker rooms and tell their friends stories about the Really Uncomfortable (Bad) Date. Or, you end up with a few points on both sides. This means that, at the close of the game, each of your Awkwardness will walk up to center ice, shake hands and say
- Mentally / To Themselves: "Whew, glad that's over!"
- Out Loud: "Good game! Can I call you sometime?"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)