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Good friends and family told me not to do it. They said it wasn't worth it. They said the content was a bit too close to home. They said it was not as good as the series, but I did it anyway. Yesterday night, I watched the Sex and the City movie. They were right.
2.5 hours is not needed to tell the story of four over-reacting 40+ women in the NYC. It is a story of relationships: failed relationships, trying relationships, the end of relationships, the hardships of relations ships, the survival of relationships. All things I should not be around. But for some reason I feel the need to put myself in situations that I know will be painful. Why? Is this a human condition or am I just a looking to be in pain?
But back to the movie. Worth it because you always want a conclusion to things. You want to know Snow White wakes up and Cinderella finds her prince. Through out the movie they say the fairy tale isn't true. Life does not guarantee happiness. Some people make it, some people don't. It is the luck of the stars, or the luck of the cards, or the luck of giving the right person a second chance.
But in the end, in true Hollywood fashion, creates the happy ending. And in true HBO fashion, the solution is sex. But that isn't what I disapprove of. What I don't like is that it perpetuates the fantasy of everyone ends happy. What is happiness? Is it different for everyone or is happiness is prescribed and if you don't meet that list of what makes happiness, you wont ever be happy.
To me, happiness is an ongoing process. I actually don't like to use the word. Lately I have been using the word "fulfilled". I started with satisfied, but I needed to raise the stakes. I need something more than a house over my head and food on my table. I am very gratefully that these needs are assumed to be met for me, but I need something more. I need to have a life that is more than satisfying. I need to meet a life that is fulfilled.
What I am learning (and it is a process) is that fulfillment needs to come from inside yourself. What I am upset about is this is Sex in the City tells women of all ages that unless you have your fairy tale ending (which for them ends in men in some way) you will never be fulfilled. I can't have this be true. I don't think it is.
Showing posts with label dating. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dating. Show all posts
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Dinner - Finally
After first date after first date with no success, I finally found the key to dating:
Do the opposite of whatever I think is right.
If I think "I should tell a stupid mom joke"; I [try to] keep it to myself.
If I think "Order the salad because that is what girls do"; I order the burger.
If I think "I need to grill him on his online profile to see how much he lied"; I just let him talk. I can compare notes later.
If I think "To be a feminist, I have to at least offer to pay for half the check/or buy a round." But I let him pick the place. He suggested that we get dinner there. He chose the price point and I didn't even go for my bag. It wasn't discussed. And it was wonderful - no awkwardness.
All in all, it was a great night. Free dinner, great conversation, and I am finally getting the hang of this dating thing. Well, we will see if he calls for a second date.
Do the opposite of whatever I think is right.
If I think "I should tell a stupid mom joke"; I [try to] keep it to myself.
If I think "Order the salad because that is what girls do"; I order the burger.
If I think "I need to grill him on his online profile to see how much he lied"; I just let him talk. I can compare notes later.
If I think "To be a feminist, I have to at least offer to pay for half the check/or buy a round." But I let him pick the place. He suggested that we get dinner there. He chose the price point and I didn't even go for my bag. It wasn't discussed. And it was wonderful - no awkwardness.
All in all, it was a great night. Free dinner, great conversation, and I am finally getting the hang of this dating thing. Well, we will see if he calls for a second date.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Match this
So, I am on Match. I am not embarrassed about it (much). I haven't been paying that much attention to it recently, but found myself online in front of crappy TV and thought - what the hell - might as well update that profile and see who is out there.
The opening question is "Describe yourself and your perfect match". Easy-peasy right? If I knew who the f I was and what the f I was looking for - do you really think I would be on Match? But, I fill it out with all of my best qualities - improving everything by an average of 10% and trying to keep the sarcasm to a minimum.
But the question of "your perfect match" still stuck with me. I think they are the imperfections are what draw you into a person. Not in a way of "That is what I am going to fix." But in a way of "that is what makes you different, and that is some of the reason why I like you." Perfection is unattainable. Perfection is boring. Perfection is not what I want. I want a real person - you can only get perfection from an android. And I am not interested in that.
The opening question is "Describe yourself and your perfect match". Easy-peasy right? If I knew who the f I was and what the f I was looking for - do you really think I would be on Match? But, I fill it out with all of my best qualities - improving everything by an average of 10% and trying to keep the sarcasm to a minimum.
But the question of "your perfect match" still stuck with me. I think they are the imperfections are what draw you into a person. Not in a way of "That is what I am going to fix." But in a way of "that is what makes you different, and that is some of the reason why I like you." Perfection is unattainable. Perfection is boring. Perfection is not what I want. I want a real person - you can only get perfection from an android. And I am not interested in that.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Teaching Tapas
You can teach a lot of things:
The other night I went to a tapas restaurant on a date. He is new to the city and hasn't gotten around a lot or gone to many restaurants. It is kind of fun to play know it all and pick out places to eat. But you can't teach someone how to eat tapas.
Tapas is the eating art of sharing. Tapas is Spanish cuisine in small sized portions created for sharing and passing. The whole point of eating tapas is to try little bits of lots of things. Order 2 or 3 dishes at a time and share and pick off of each other's plates. It is a communal eating experience. But if the person you are dining with does not understand the fundamental fact of tapas - sharing - this is very difficult.
There are only so many ways to say, "Why don't I give you a few dates rolled in bacon?" "Here, share some of this crab dip and toasted bread?" "Can I please try some of your freaking meatballs with sherry tomato sauce?"
You just can't teach tapas.
After the date, I emailed him with the complimentary awkward message saying things just aren't going to work out. In his message back he actually used the term "you beat me to the punch." Well, I wanted to punch you when you wouldn't share. So yes, I beat you.
- how to make hospital corners with the sheets when making a bed
- how ride the CTA like a bad-ass and no one will mess with you
- how to fake knowing about sports to have meaningless conversations in the office kitchen
The other night I went to a tapas restaurant on a date. He is new to the city and hasn't gotten around a lot or gone to many restaurants. It is kind of fun to play know it all and pick out places to eat. But you can't teach someone how to eat tapas.
Tapas is the eating art of sharing. Tapas is Spanish cuisine in small sized portions created for sharing and passing. The whole point of eating tapas is to try little bits of lots of things. Order 2 or 3 dishes at a time and share and pick off of each other's plates. It is a communal eating experience. But if the person you are dining with does not understand the fundamental fact of tapas - sharing - this is very difficult.
There are only so many ways to say, "Why don't I give you a few dates rolled in bacon?" "Here, share some of this crab dip and toasted bread?" "Can I please try some of your freaking meatballs with sherry tomato sauce?"
You just can't teach tapas.
After the date, I emailed him with the complimentary awkward message saying things just aren't going to work out. In his message back he actually used the term "you beat me to the punch." Well, I wanted to punch you when you wouldn't share. So yes, I beat you.
You just can't teach tapas
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Dating Karma
For reference, please see the posting from April 27 - second date.
I had my first date with someone from Match.com. He seemed pretty cool, a bit old (33) but well established and witty. Basically my only two requirements. (besides that they have to laugh at my jokes).
Breakfast on Saturday morning. Then we went to the Printer's Row Book Fair. I have always wanted to go and since this was where he had just bought his new condo, it worked out perfectly. Now the check for breakfast comes. I have been down this path before, but I have decided that on a first date, I am a split down the middle kind of girl. It must be the feminist in me. So I through in my $20 and we are done. But now this leaves me with $3 total...not going to take me far in the Book Fair.
First find is a used copy of Shakespeare's Julius Caesar. It is in the $1 bin, but when the guy looks at it, he says he can only charge me .50 for it. Done and done. I just might make it through with my now $2.50.
But then we come across the perfect father's day present. I won't say what it is, Dad might be reading, but it was well out of my $2.50 budget. It isn't crazy expensive, but they don't take credit card. So my valiant first date gave me the extra money to get my father's day present. Karma from the second date paid back. World - we are even.
I had my first date with someone from Match.com. He seemed pretty cool, a bit old (33) but well established and witty. Basically my only two requirements. (besides that they have to laugh at my jokes).
Breakfast on Saturday morning. Then we went to the Printer's Row Book Fair. I have always wanted to go and since this was where he had just bought his new condo, it worked out perfectly. Now the check for breakfast comes. I have been down this path before, but I have decided that on a first date, I am a split down the middle kind of girl. It must be the feminist in me. So I through in my $20 and we are done. But now this leaves me with $3 total...not going to take me far in the Book Fair.
First find is a used copy of Shakespeare's Julius Caesar. It is in the $1 bin, but when the guy looks at it, he says he can only charge me .50 for it. Done and done. I just might make it through with my now $2.50.
But then we come across the perfect father's day present. I won't say what it is, Dad might be reading, but it was well out of my $2.50 budget. It isn't crazy expensive, but they don't take credit card. So my valiant first date gave me the extra money to get my father's day present. Karma from the second date paid back. World - we are even.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
second date
It is 10pm, and I have never been so happy to be back home.
Let me tell you about my second date with Nick.
He meets me on the corner of Armitage and Bissel (no hug, no handshake and am feeling like we have reached an understanding). We walk to his car parked on a side street a block away. He opens the door for me. I lean over and open his door. He gets in and proceeds to lean in for a kiss. I throw up a hand, pull back and say:
Al: I am not ready for the kissing just yet.
Nick: Are you sure?
Al: Uhhh, yeah. (yikes - this is going to be a long night)
We drive to pick up some wine (restaurant is BYOB). He proceeds to tell me about Chilean wine. (okay, lecture 1 has begun, but at least it is about something I am interested in).
We drive to the Costa Rican restaurant in Bucktown. Nice, small, neighborhood place. I think I am going to like it. All this time I have had my phone on vibrate in my back pocket. He puts our name on the waiting list and says he is going to step to the restroom. I take this moment to begin my texting.
Al to J and K: I am in hell.
J to Al: Hang in there
K to Al: Want me to bail you out?
We have dinner. Costa Rican food is quite good. But I have a hard time telling you how it is any different than other South American food. But it is good. Conversation is fairly good. He asks passingly about my rehearsal, I ask passingly about his job. Somehow we cover the subjects of James Bond (lecture 2) Shakespeare's Henry I and II (lectures 2 and 3).
We have flan for desert.
He steps to the restroom. (again? really?) I take the opportunity to text:
K to Al: R U okay?
Al to K: I'm fine. Hopefully it is almost over.
The check comes. We decide to split it. (there is no fighting my suggestion of splitting it. For him to at least fake a "I wouldn't hear of it" is expected - but not done. We both put a credit card down. We keep "talking" (read - lecture). They clear our plates - we keep "talking". I decide it need to take things into my own hands.
Al: Do we pay here or take it up to the register
Nick: I'm not sure.
Al: Well, I am going to step to the restroom. If they don't come back by the time I get back, lets take it up.
I go to the restroom and take the opportunity to text.
K to Al: Don't pucker up. Ha Ha.
Al to K: I already said no.
Check is still there. The waitress comes by - we learn we have to take it up to the register and they are cash only. I pull out a $20. (I have about 6 singles still in my wallet) Thank god I stopped for cash last night. Nick says: "Crap."
He pulls out a five and 3 ones. Eight bucks toward a $35.00 check. But, luckily there is an ATM.
Nick: Well, I'll put all of this in ($8) you can put that $20 and the rest of your singles in. Then I can either walk 4 blocks to the car to scrounge up some change for a tip, or you can go to the ATM.
I am totally stunned. I cannot speak.
I go to the ATM. I take out another $20 (and pay a $4 bank fee). I put my $40 on the table, add some singles for tip. I think we are about set. I hope we are about set.
Then he tells me to take the money up to the register. Then he tells me to be sure to get a bag so he can put the leftover 1/2 bottle of wine in for our walk to his car. Then he tells me to carry his leftovers as we leave the restaurant b/c he needs to carry the wine.
He drives me home. Actually, to the corner of Bissell and Armitage. He pulls up to the hardware store on the corner. I say thank you for showing me a new restaurant and cuisine. (I can't say thank you for dinner b/c I PAID!). I unbuckle my seat belt. He leans in:
Nick: Are we still doing the no kissing no touching thing?
(he kisses me)
Al: Well, I think that is going to be about it. Goodnight.
(i get out of the car as fast as possible)
I can't believe it. I had to say "no" to him kissing me, get lectured about multiple topics, paid for both of our dinners, got kissed again against my will, and still was home cross-stitching by 10pm.
I thought dating was going to be about getting dressed up, getting free meals, and going to movies. This is not what I signed up for...
I don't think there is going to be a third date. Even for practice.
Let me tell you about my second date with Nick.
He meets me on the corner of Armitage and Bissel (no hug, no handshake and am feeling like we have reached an understanding). We walk to his car parked on a side street a block away. He opens the door for me. I lean over and open his door. He gets in and proceeds to lean in for a kiss. I throw up a hand, pull back and say:
Al: I am not ready for the kissing just yet.
Nick: Are you sure?
Al: Uhhh, yeah. (yikes - this is going to be a long night)
We drive to pick up some wine (restaurant is BYOB). He proceeds to tell me about Chilean wine. (okay, lecture 1 has begun, but at least it is about something I am interested in).
We drive to the Costa Rican restaurant in Bucktown. Nice, small, neighborhood place. I think I am going to like it. All this time I have had my phone on vibrate in my back pocket. He puts our name on the waiting list and says he is going to step to the restroom. I take this moment to begin my texting.
Al to J and K: I am in hell.
J to Al: Hang in there
K to Al: Want me to bail you out?
We have dinner. Costa Rican food is quite good. But I have a hard time telling you how it is any different than other South American food. But it is good. Conversation is fairly good. He asks passingly about my rehearsal, I ask passingly about his job. Somehow we cover the subjects of James Bond (lecture 2) Shakespeare's Henry I and II (lectures 2 and 3).
We have flan for desert.
He steps to the restroom. (again? really?) I take the opportunity to text:
K to Al: R U okay?
Al to K: I'm fine. Hopefully it is almost over.
The check comes. We decide to split it. (there is no fighting my suggestion of splitting it. For him to at least fake a "I wouldn't hear of it" is expected - but not done. We both put a credit card down. We keep "talking" (read - lecture). They clear our plates - we keep "talking". I decide it need to take things into my own hands.
Al: Do we pay here or take it up to the register
Nick: I'm not sure.
Al: Well, I am going to step to the restroom. If they don't come back by the time I get back, lets take it up.
I go to the restroom and take the opportunity to text.
K to Al: Don't pucker up. Ha Ha.
Al to K: I already said no.
Check is still there. The waitress comes by - we learn we have to take it up to the register and they are cash only. I pull out a $20. (I have about 6 singles still in my wallet) Thank god I stopped for cash last night. Nick says: "Crap."
He pulls out a five and 3 ones. Eight bucks toward a $35.00 check. But, luckily there is an ATM.
Nick: Well, I'll put all of this in ($8) you can put that $20 and the rest of your singles in. Then I can either walk 4 blocks to the car to scrounge up some change for a tip, or you can go to the ATM.
I am totally stunned. I cannot speak.
I go to the ATM. I take out another $20 (and pay a $4 bank fee). I put my $40 on the table, add some singles for tip. I think we are about set. I hope we are about set.
Then he tells me to take the money up to the register. Then he tells me to be sure to get a bag so he can put the leftover 1/2 bottle of wine in for our walk to his car. Then he tells me to carry his leftovers as we leave the restaurant b/c he needs to carry the wine.
He drives me home. Actually, to the corner of Bissell and Armitage. He pulls up to the hardware store on the corner. I say thank you for showing me a new restaurant and cuisine. (I can't say thank you for dinner b/c I PAID!). I unbuckle my seat belt. He leans in:
Nick: Are we still doing the no kissing no touching thing?
(he kisses me)
Al: Well, I think that is going to be about it. Goodnight.
(i get out of the car as fast as possible)
I can't believe it. I had to say "no" to him kissing me, get lectured about multiple topics, paid for both of our dinners, got kissed again against my will, and still was home cross-stitching by 10pm.
I thought dating was going to be about getting dressed up, getting free meals, and going to movies. This is not what I signed up for...
I don't think there is going to be a third date. Even for practice.
At the ol' ball game!
I, by chance, found myself at Wrigley Field tonight. I was right behind first base, 5 rows behind the Reds dugout. To keep as much of the pain out of it, I will keep the score to myself. Because I am at Wrigley, the players are less than 10 feet in front of me. They were chit-chatting the fans before the game. Now, during the game, there is not so much gabbing.
As they come in from the field at the top of each inning, they toss up the ball to some adorable kid hanging over the dugout. The kid is usually dressed in some Cubs get-up, obviously not a Reds fan, but I guess it would be bad press to tell the kid to shove it.
I am sick of 6 and 10 year old Cubs fans getting all of the face time with MY CINCINNATI REDS. So I begin my plea " I'm from Cincinnati!" It starts quite, just to make a joke to my friends. But then, as the innings go by and bratty Chicago 6 year old Cubs kids tromp up the stairs to their seats with big smiles and a Major League ball, I get more desperate/energized. My plea becomes a chat: "I'm from Cincinnati! I'm from Cincinnati!".
Finally, Ken Griffy Jr catches my chant (one of the few things he caught that night)*. At the top of the 7th inning, he tosses me the ball. The entire area around me cheers. Finally the girl from Cincinnati will shut-up. I am congratulated by Cubs fans all around.
The next time the Reds are going into the dugout, people around me start to yell "I'm from Cincinnati" trying to get them to toss up another ball. I am a semi-celebrity. All because I am from Cincinnati and am proud of it. I left the game saying to all the Reds players, "I know you tried very hard. I will see you on Friday." I am pretty sure they thing I am crazy.
Goodnight from Chicago,
*Jr actually played a decent game, but the joke was there, so I had to take it.
As they come in from the field at the top of each inning, they toss up the ball to some adorable kid hanging over the dugout. The kid is usually dressed in some Cubs get-up, obviously not a Reds fan, but I guess it would be bad press to tell the kid to shove it.
I am sick of 6 and 10 year old Cubs fans getting all of the face time with MY CINCINNATI REDS. So I begin my plea " I'm from Cincinnati!" It starts quite, just to make a joke to my friends. But then, as the innings go by and bratty Chicago 6 year old Cubs kids tromp up the stairs to their seats with big smiles and a Major League ball, I get more desperate/energized. My plea becomes a chat: "I'm from Cincinnati! I'm from Cincinnati!".
Finally, Ken Griffy Jr catches my chant (one of the few things he caught that night)*. At the top of the 7th inning, he tosses me the ball. The entire area around me cheers. Finally the girl from Cincinnati will shut-up. I am congratulated by Cubs fans all around.
The next time the Reds are going into the dugout, people around me start to yell "I'm from Cincinnati" trying to get them to toss up another ball. I am a semi-celebrity. All because I am from Cincinnati and am proud of it. I left the game saying to all the Reds players, "I know you tried very hard. I will see you on Friday." I am pretty sure they thing I am crazy.
Goodnight from Chicago,
*Jr actually played a decent game, but the joke was there, so I had to take it.
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