Klutz Inside

If there’s any one talent I hold it’s the ability to make a complete fool out of myself at any given moment. If that and sarcasm were an Olympic sport I would rock the gold. I’m completely self-taught. I only admit this because it reflects poorly on my mother when I fall down the same stairs on a weekly basis. She did teach me to walk. Though I am the one who felt the need to walk, talk, boss people around and text message all at the same time. No wonder I fall down a lot.

I’m used to looking like a fool. I’ve been doing it for quite some time--On my own, without any help from others.

So for example if we dated a few times and now work in the same building there is no need to make me look stupid, because chances are I’ve already done that on my own by walking down the hall with toilet paper stuck to my shoes. Twice. In one day.

Trust me, I’ve got the “looking like a buffoon” thing covered. So really there is no need to hang a column I may or may not have written about you for your co-workers to see, causing them to look at me with pity and loathing. Frankly, I’d much rather they dislike me because I accidentally shut the elevator doors on their foot, or knock them over when I trip on nothing in the hall way.

What I’m saying is I don’t need any help looking like an ass. Ever.

In Utah This Week, Issue #92

This week's "The Dating Years."

Breaking up for Hillary

Sarah: "Are you avoiding my calls because you don’t want to hear me lecture you in the importance of voting today?"

Ben: "No. I already listened to your messages."

Sarah: "Good. Go vote. Also, you should know I emailed your girlfriend today and broke up with her."

Ben: "What?! Why?"

Sarah: "Her Obama shirt… I told her she had a vagina and should use it to vote."

Ben: "Oh man…"

Sarah: "Don’t be mad. She’s the one that said she was torn between Hillary and Obama. She had to either vote for her vagina, or vote for her 'brown' vagina."

Ben: "SARAH!! I really didn’t need to hear that the girl I’m dating and my sister are discussing vagina together. I’m never letting you meet anyone again. I mean it."

In which I steal Arlo's word

I met the girl Ben has been dating last night.

In the past I've never really liked any of the girls he's introduced me to. Essentially it's the same girl over and over, just with a different name. The new girl, K, was nothing like the others. She had personality, style, and wasn't nervous around me. In the past that's been a problem. Ben claims the others have always been intimidated by me, but I think that's a bullshit excuse for having zero personality.

K easily won me over in two simple acts: 1) she remembered what I wanted from Starbucks when Ben couldn't, and 2) she pulled a flask out of her purse five minutes into the Sundance movie we were seeing.

In the reality show of Ben's life. I vote K all the way.

The Healing Power of Vodka

Sundance rocked my world last night. Unfortunately, not in a good way.

I went to the SLC screening of Henry Poole is Here, thanks to The Yuppie, who at the last minute he was unable to attend. In an attempt to stick to my Sundance theme I took another ex. Little did I know the Gods of Sundance already had that covered. Sitting down I saw a man I dated years ago who I had very much cared for.

In one room I had two men who not only broke my heart, but stomped a version of the Cha-cha-cha on it. Well, if either of them could dance. Which they can't.

Despite too many memories in one room without the coping help of an IV drip of vodka, I was able to concentrate on Luke Wilson's hotness. Which in a way, was a small triumph for me. The unexpected ex was an undying fan of all things Wilson.

During the closing credits I planned my exit strategy. Typically, I don't mind running into men I once dated, but the thought of these two particular men meeting made my skin crawl.

Tonight is the final night I'll be attending films, and as much as I have enjoyed seeing fims I'll be thrilled for the festival to end. My heart and I need some time alone. With, of course, above mentioned vodka.

Good Taste

AND he makes me laugh.

Broken Heart No More...

Over the past year and a half I've spent time hating when I should've been healing. Frankly, hate is exhausting and simply not worth my time. I have better things to do. I have good friends who love me, an amazing family who adores me, and brothers who would do anything for me. I have a good life. It's time to recognize that and get over the past.

The void has been filled with understanding and forgiveness. Life goes on, and so shall I.

And with that, I'm over it!

Karaoke Tips

1)When a friend hands you a request slip with your name on it, immediately hide it in your purse when no one is looking. (The only time 'Secret Lovers' should be sung is under your breathe when certain "friends" are in the room.)

2)Then quickly shift the attention onto this guy, who just happened to be singing last night.

Museum Fortunes

A "friend" took me to see the Cinderella exhibit at the UMFA last week. I thought it was a brilliant idea: taking a princess to see a princess. Hello, brownie points!

The exhibit wasn't exactly what either one of us expected. It was geared towards children. He swears up and down it wasn't an intentional jab. I did see this little gem which made it worth the trip:This is way better than a silly fortune cookie. I'm going to take this as a promise that a man will fall in love with me AND my shoes, despite our messy state. And if all princes are indeed clueless is that why I don't have one yet?

Misery isn't a Pretty Sight

My dad once accused me of being a fair-weathered Ute fan. I denied it, but he's absolutely right. After attending yesterday's game in the snow I came home and vowed never again. From now on, I'll be watching from the comfort of my home, or a well-stocked bar.

It was fun-ish, but I discovered I'm not pretty when I'm miserable and I don't like that one bit. Thanks to the boy who put up with my whining and let us sneak out early as hypothermia prevention. I promise I'm not mad you tried to kill me, but you still owe me a dry adventure.

Clean Hair is Bad Luck

I'm never washing my hair again. We really know that's not true--I'm a product addict, but for a moment this morning I seriously considered it.

Maddie and I attended a singles event at The Depot last night. A friend of a friend started a dating service. Showing support and being mildly curious we went. I washed my hair and Maddie shaved her legs. Together we were one hygienic hottie.

It wasn't what I was expecting... desperation comes in all forms. We left after a few minutes and went to the food court. My desperation is in the form of Taco Time. Washing my hair and wearing cute new shoes for a mall food court is not my idea of a night on town. There's not a flask big enough for that--trust me, I've looked.

Sunday Venting Session

Last summer I found myself dating two men I deeply cared about: Captain America and The Adult. When each relationship ended we promised to stay friends. I know it rarely works, but I had high hopes. Both men were really great guys, or so I thought.

When a storm left my apt. without power for two days I asked The Adult if I could crash with him. I didn't think it was big deal. After all that we've been through we remain friends. I guess his idea of friendship is far different than mine. When my friends need me I do everything I can to help--just ask Midge. I was shocked when he told me no. Ak and Mrs. Ak didn't have power either, Ben was MIA and I really didn't want to drive clear to the burbs to crash with Uncle Cabbage Patch (who I don't think even had an extra bed set up yet). He said it was a bad night for him and maybe another time. Funny, but I can't really plan power outages around his schedule. I couldn't believe he was leaving me hanging yet again. This is quickly turning into his new and far from improved personality, and I'm quickly learning he isn't such a great guy at all.

Last Sunday's snuff from Capt. America was surprising, but when it happened again I found myself really hurt. In Utah This Week had a booth at the Avenues street fair yesterday, as Daisy and I were walking through the crowd I saw him and his girlfriend. He looked at me and then Daisy and turned around without saying a word. How do you not even say hello to someone you once claimed to love? I was livid. So I sent him a text message letting him know of all the men I've dated, I'd never expect him to end up being that guy. He left a voice mail in apology but it doesn't matter. Twice in one week... the damage is done.

It's hard to eat eggs after being kicked in the stomach.

After a late night out Pants and I went to Ruth's this morning for brunch. I promised her it had the city's best Bloody Mary, so to count on a wait.

What I hadn't been counting on was seeing Captain America.

Last summer when I took him there for the first time he instantly loved it. I should have known he'd go back. I saw him about a month ago and it was awkward and hurt for days, but this was worse. Today he had his girlfriend with him. His very pretty girlfriend who makes him disgustingly happy. Sigh...

I ate my omelet, drank my Bloody Mary and tried to remain unaffected. Which, of course, didn't work--it never does.

We didn't acknowledge seeing one another, which almost hurt worse than being forced to smile and play nice while meeting his girlfriend.

I desperately need a city with less ex-boyfriends.

Single & Stalking

A friend and I were discussing relationships last night over drinks. The previous woman he'd been dating wasn't exactly monogamous. Now that he's back on the prowl, I thought it might be fun to practice my matchmaking skills. Asking him what he looks for in a woman, thinking he'd provide the basics: pretty, smart and most importantly a great rack.

Nope.

"Well, if she wasn't screwing someone else she would have been fantastic. So available is a start."

And this was proven by ogling every ring less waitress the remainder of the evening. Like a true friend, I helped.

Not a Match

The hostess with the mostess, Katie, had another great bbq Sunday afternoon for a friend's going away party. (If you're keeping track that's two friends leaving this month.)

We were talking about online dating and she told me that Match.com had tried to match her divorced parents. I laughed. No way was that going to happen to me.

...but then it did.

Yesterday an email came from Match letting me know an ex and I are an 84% match. Seriously? Been there done that. I think it's time for Match to revamp inventory.

Why Texting is ALWAYS Better

Today, while on the phone with a cute guy I know, he asked "So what are you doing this week?" To which I replied, "Sweating." Our conversation sorta fizzed out at that point. Who wants to ask the sweaty girl out? Exactly.

what i'm looking for in a man

i'm looking for a geek. not the kind of geek who never leaves his mother's basement, but the geek with designer jeans and cool glasses. oh, and hair. that's important--bald geeks need not apply.

my geek must be geeky enough to accompany me to the mac store and actually enjoy it. (my ibook is on the fritz AGAIN!) also, please know every computer program i may need, and redesign my blog to look exactly the way i want it: pink. my geek must accompany me to movies at the broadway, and drive me home when i've had a few too many. my geek must be able to read and discuss books with me.

what you'll get in return. i'll never complain when you watch the simpsons. i'll always be willing to bring you coffee while you fix my computer. i'll try and behave myself in front of your parents, and not behave myself in front of your friends. i'll happily discuss most new geeks toys with you. of course, reserving the right to pick and choose which items interest me and discuss accordingly.

is that really so much to ask?

irony is not dead!

i'm making progress. i finally dumped the yuppie's bathroom supplies today. i felt guilty doing it, but it's done nonetheless. when i bought this bathroom garbage can years ago i had no idea just how fitting it would be.

not a match!

needing something to occupy my time, i logged on my match account tonight. yup, friday night at home. shut up. after reading a few emails i'm reminded of my internet dating rules. so far they're working-- i've not been chopped up and stored in a garage freezer.

1) don't send me the exact same email you send everyone. come on, does anyone actually reply to those?
2) at least make an attempt to spell words correctly. spell checker is a beautiful invention--like caller id!
3) under no condition mention of your season pass to lagoon.
4) don't offer to send me your bank statements. wtf?

here's my favorite message tonight. because, i too am picky, which is why i'll not reply. ( i'm bitchy, get over it.)

I hafve to ask becaue sine I hae dated on match over the past 3 months these profles seem to mean nothin with the girs out in California so I have decided to look out of state for my soul mate.. My name is Todd B******, I am a great guy with a lot to offer ... Please review my profile and if I seean email in my inbox from you I know your interested... I hop so becuae I am very picky and it took me a long time to fine you... I;ll bet your worth it though....

Hugz!

Toddy B

best place to find a man (men's health article)

men's health magazine contacted me last week. apparently, slc ranks #2 in cities where a woman over the age of 35 can find a man. seriously. i thought it must be a mistake, but guess not.

to read the article in it's entirety go here, if you're lazy and only want to read my contribution go here. either way go read it, if you need an extra incentive there's pictures of chesty women!

the magazine's editor-in-chief will be on oprah today discussing it. i've never seen an episode of oprah, but this was worth setting my tivo. i swear, i've never seen her show, but i have seen three episodes of american idol. i'm not proud.