Archive for September, 2010

So Long DUD Life

     Now that I am working extra hard at finding STUDs and moving away from the DUDs, I thought it would be fun to take a trip down memory lane and remember some of the DUDs from my past.  I’ve given some brief quotes from these fan favorite posts but to read the full post just click their names/titles.  With any luck there are more hopeful prospects out there than these.

DUD #5: Measuring Up

“…We arranged to meet.  He was over an hour late.  …  I knew he didn’t leave when he said he was going to and that screamed to me – maintenance.  I don’t do metro sexual.”

DUD #4: ADD Not for Me

“…A few minutes into the phone call I noticed something seemed off.  …  He asked a lot of questions and responded to everything.  Some of the responses were just a chill laid back voice, then others were passionately enraged.  We would be talking about a basic run-of-the-mill topic and then he would shout out, “Right? F%*& that Zia.  Who needs it?” OR “Screw’um.  Good for you Zia.  F$*# them.  F&^#@* bullshit, am I right?

Whoo – okay fella – breathe.

…between the phone call and the first meet I’m pretty sure he forgot my name, until one day when he called, after I told him I’d be working, and conveniently got my voicemail.

…his master plan for a second date was to smoke up.” 

DUD #3: Funny Stuff

“For anyone who has ever tried to contact someone via internet dating, standing out from the pack is crucial.  However, some of you should recheck your filter…

…my new favorite (email) came in the other day.  It’s so horrible that I wouldn’t do it justice to only explain it.  I present to you, spelling and punctuation mistakes and all, direct quote:

Subject: Funny Stuff

“so theres this drunk right? now hes wasted by noon and decides hes gotta pee so he whips it out and starts going in the middle of the street now this lady walking by stops stares and starts yelling “what an animal what a beast what a monster” the drunk says “easy lady easy I got a good hold on him” hope that got you to laugh and hope youll give me the chance to laugh alongside you soon”

          Oh, I’m laughing, but probably not for the reasons you would like.”

Later, since I responded to Funny Stuff and “tried to explain why it wasn’t the best approach,” he wrote back.  And “foreseeing his response, he accused me of having no sense of humor.  No, not the case I replied. 
Then he decided he wanted to start over.  He reintroduced himself.  Then I got a joke about a monkey holding a…”

And two of my personal favorites:

DUD #2: From my Wingwoman search – Sammy Boy He was, “I have to say, quite ballsy to answer a ‘wingwoman’ ad and blatantly ignore the woman part.”  His emails were classically entertaining with his verbal diarrhea.

And DUD #1: Mr. Fig Newton

“…The time between our second and third date my phone was flooded with more useless texts and again the word “sexy.” … I don’t know, something about hearing that over and over again from a man who hardly knows you is just creepy and pervy (and not pervy in a good way.)

…I was driving up again.  I didn’t mind because I had the day off and he didn’t. … I got to his house – no answer.  Here’s a suggestion: a girl is driving over an hour to see you – Be Home!”


       If this is your first read of these DUDs, I hope you understand my pain.  If you feel my pain, I’m super sorry.  And if you’ve been following my blog for a while, you know that these DUDs are just the tip of the iceberg.

     I do have some new men in the works and am keeping my fingers crossed.  However, if any of you know of any STUDs you’d like to send my way…my email is in the sidebar. Shy Whistler


Final Report Card

     I have completed my Love in 90 Days journey.  Dr. D gives us a checklist in the last chapter to recap on our progress.  Here are my answers to the questions she asks.

1)     Are you putting out feminine “go” signals?  Do you dress or act in a more attractive way?

I have bought a lot more deep-V dresses and shirts so the mangoes are on parade more often, still not completely comfortable flaunting them about.  My “go” signal skills may need a little work.  Drunks and Crazies still flock to me like white on rice so I’m apparently sending out a “go” holler.  Need to tweak this a bit.

2)     Has the number of e-mail and phone interactions with potential dates increased since the beginning of the Program?

Define “potential.”  If they are not putting me to sleep or calling to complain about their ex or the online dating site then they are sending me gem emails like the one I received last weekend.

      “Hay, you seam cool…”

3)     Has the number of actual dates each week increased?

Nope.  Hit or miss here.  Dr. D has made me stamp out the DUDs (aka Definitely Unworkable Dudes) right away.  I meet a lot of DUDs.

4)     Are you dating better-quality men?

See answer to question 2.  If they make it through the email/phone process then yes, they are better quality.  Now I just need to work on quality with pizzazz and find the STUDs (aka Seriously Terrific, Utterly Devoted Dudes) Dr. D believes I can find.

5)     How have your dating habits changed?

I leave the house.  That’s a lot of work for someone who likes to play hermit.

6)     Which Deadly Dating Patterns have you broken out through?

Just Buddies – I make more of an effort to put on make-up, perfume, and well…waxing.  (If they only knew)

Hermit – Dying to be one again!  Think it’s possible to find a guy that doesn’t mind if I stay home and cook while watching football?  I would think that’d be a dream for most men but all the men I find don’t like sports.  I’m flabbergasted.

7)     Are you looking for something different in a relationship now?

I’m not looking for something different in the relationship per se, but the courtship yes.  Dr. D points out that we should all be pursued, shown that we are wanted.  Hence my recent desire to want to be wooed.  Never thought about it before and as Dr. D so strongly points out – I’m worth it!

     Needless to say, I did not find love within a ninety day time frame.  I have not been consistently working my Program of Three due to lack of STUDs.  Nonetheless, I will soldier on.  Dr. D had some good tips and pointers that I will carry with me as my hunt for eligible STUDs continues. 

Though, as one countdown ends, another begins…106 days until New Year’s Eve.

Keeping Hope Alive

     Mama J has always been supportive of me finding someone and, as a good friend, wants to help.  Pair her up with our college friend, Sarcastic Bride, who, ever since I’ve known her, has always wanted to pair people together and disregards science and believes love really does make the world go’round; this means no safe hiding place for me.  Mama J had every intention of being my wingwoman this weekend, so I gave her the opportunity to write this guest post of “Zia-in-action,” what she observed, and how she “helped” out.

Post by: Mama J

I love a wedding: the romance, the flowers, the dress, the cake, the open bar, and the start of a brand new life together.  However, for some of us a wedding can mean so much more.  For some it means, “Finally, my son found someone to spend his life with, so he can get out of my house.”  For others it means, “Young love still exists and there is still hope for the rest of us.”  Or it could mean, “Game Over.”  And for a few, such as Zia, it means, “Time to scope out what possibilities remain.”

For Labor Day weekend, Zia and I attended Sarcastic Bride’s wedding at a Virginia country club.  Everything was beautiful – the weather – the bride and groom – the flowers and, of course, Zia!  Here we are, at a wedding in the suburbs of Washington DC, hoping to find some hint of young available, professionally driven men.  Having lived here, DC is definitely the place to be for such hopeful connections.  My reinforcement in this wedding man hunt was Sarcastic Bride, another determined friend who wants Zia to find that perfect man.  She informed Zia earlier that she was strategically seated facing some available male wedding guests.  It was so nice of her to think about others during this most important day of her own life!

The ceremony was quick and hard to scan the guests, so afterwards, it was cocktail time.  Zia and I took a seat near the entrance to the bar and hors’dourves, to enjoy a good view of men coming and going.  Unfortunately, I am not smooth in my some of my behaviors.  One of the first guys to walk toward the bar, I apparently looked him up and down and said, “. . . No.”  I said it out loud!  Luckily he didn’t hear me, but Zia sure did and pointed out, “You know you said that out loud?”  Oops!  Oh well.  When Zia left to go to the restroom, I continued on my man hunt.  A robust, clean-shaven guy walked by, I glanced at his face, then at his hand for a ring, and then felt a hot stare from his girlfriend, who was walking behind him.  Claimed.  Oops, again!

We spoke to one of the bridesmaids and let her in on the hunt.  She said that her cousin was the best guy she knew and that she already approved of Zia and she should go for it.  He was dressed in his all white Navy uniform and was single and available.  However, she failed to mention that he was Claimed’s brother and a smoker.  So, I guess we can cross the White Knight off the list also.  Another eligible bachelor was the Maid of Honor’s brother, but he looked illegally young.

Well, it was time for dinner and we made our way to our table.  There were three sets of couples, two other single ladies, me, Zia and one eligible guy.  We got to the table and found we were facing the wall.  That didn’t fly with Zia since she was promised optimal viewing.  She managed to switch seats with a couple who wanted to sit next to another couple at the table.  This unknowingly placed Zia next to the eligible guy, Hopeful Henry.  He is a friend of Sarcastic Bride’s brother, who works in the government, but doesn’t talk politics.  That gave him immediate bonus points for having a real job and not boring us to death.  In fact, Hopeful Henry was genuinely interested in learning about Zia – her job, her college life, her friendship with Sarcastic Bride and the weather in LA.  He was a talker, but not an annoying chatty one.  At some point, Sarcastic Bride did present a slide show of photos from the couple’s past, which included a photo of her and Zia from their cruise.  Zia was wearing a striking red dress and we pointed out the photo to Hopeful Henry.  Zia said, “It’s hard to see well from this angle.”  At that time he said, “You good to me from here.”  (I wonder if he intended to say that out loud.)  Zia said, “Thank you.” 

Even though he didn’t ask her to slow dance (so high school), they seemed to have had a few good conversations throughout the night.  Also, he didn’t drink too much and he wasn’t macking on any other girls, like the other drunk guys.  More bonus points from me!  When he was leaving the wedding, he told Zia, “Well I hope to see you at the brunch tomorrow.”  I could see the glimmer of hope in his eyes.

And as it turned out, Zia and I were able to make it to Sarcastic Bride’s parents’ brunch.  Hopeful Henry was there and he flashed us a large smile when he saw us, I mean when he saw Zia.  I had my 3-year-old daughter with us for Sarcastic Bride and her husband to meet also.  At arrival, we gathered up some food and ate outside among family members, then found a nice quiet spot next to the Koi pond in the backyard.  My daughter wanted to explore, so I let her run about.  Hopeful Henry made his way through the sliding glass door and bee-lined in our direction.  They began chatting and I conveniently left Zia and weaved throughout the house and the other guests to find my daughter.  When I stopped by, only for a few minutes, to check in of course, they were talking about her travels.  I said a couple of things to him, and then left again to find my daughter…again.  After several minutes, Zia found me and said she had to go to the restroom and Hopeful Henry had gone back inside the house.  We lost track of him when Sarcastic Bride and her new husband arrived at the brunch.

However, Hopeful Henry made a point to find Zia upon his departure.  He reached into his pocket and said, “This is a little cheesy, but here is my card.  If you are ever in DC, definitely get in touch.”  Even though I came to the conclusion that he’s a safe bet and lacking some physical shazam, I, of course, hammed it up by saying, “Remember, we’re trying to get her to move here.”  He said with smile aimed at Zia, “That sounds good. Talk to you later.”  I did notice that the card was not in a case or a wallet, but loose inside his pants.  To me, this means he thought about putting it there for a reason, being hopeful.

My Southern Charm

     As my ninety days come to a close, what better way to finish up my Love in 90 Days project than at the hub of new love and commitment – a wedding.  So I packed my bags, hopped on a plane and headed out to Washington D.C. this weekend for a college friend’s wedding.  And since flying ain’t what it use to be, I crammed everything into a carry-on bag and a purse to avoid paying that annoying $25 checked baggage fee.  Doing this also meant foregoing a razor.  Simple fix though, made an appointment with my girl, Lily, for a waxing. 

     I have been going to Lily for years.  She’s the one to make an appointment with if you are pressed for time.  She’s pretty speedy and yet still thorough. 

     I arrive at my appointment.  Underarm – done.  Bottom half of legs – done.  Thighs – done.  Moving onto the bikini area…I have no aspiration of being a swimsuit model so I just get the basic.  Slight rotation of my right leg and a little shifting of my underwear – nothing unusual so far.  She begins waxing and then I feel her shift my underwear a bit more.  Then suddenly I feel wax go where I have never felt wax go before.  My mind starts racing:  Did she mean to do that?  I just wanted a basic, she knows that.  Oh, f%$#, this is gonna hurt.  Lily bends my leg even more, gets in position – YANK!  I flew about five feet off the table.  To relieve the pain she applied pressure, looked over her shoulder at me and gave an animated smiley face.  All I could mouth was, “I’m okay.”

     She continued waxing my right side and my mind continued racing:  Crap, there’s another side to do!  If she doesn’t do it, it’ll be uneven.  Oh God, is this my Sex in the City moment where I end up with a surprise Brazilian treatment?

     She switches to my left side.  Starts out normal, like the other side did.  Then another shift in underwear and now I’m laying with my legs flopped on the table like a frog in seventh grade biology class about to meet his maker.  More wax placed in unmentionable places.  Lily gets in position and I tense up just knowing what’s coming and then – “Holy Mary Mother of &$%!  Another five foot jump off the table, applied pressure and an animated smiley face that I think she thought was somehow soothing – not so much. 

     As I’m laying there while she is finishing up my front, my mind starts racing again:  What can she damage on my backside?  Did she actually damage anything from this side?  If Tenacious Ken lived closer I’d probably utilize his area of self-proclaimed expertise and have him take a look to make sure everything is still looking ok and in working order.  (For those of you who don’t know much about Tenacious Ken, click here and find out why here popped into my head.)

     Lily then pipes up, and in broken English says something along the lines of weekend and they won’t find hair.  I hope she realizes I’m attending the wedding, not entertaining at the bachelor party.  I pieced it all together and basically my girl Lily is preparing me to “get lucky” this weekend and wants everything to be presentable.  (Jeez, I hope my dad is not reading this post right now.)  She didn’t go Brazilian, but she was nearly there.  We will just call it Costa Rican.

     I flipped over and everything went as it normally does.  Until I felt my underwear shift again.  Apparently Lily wanted to get the butt cheeks too.  (Tenacious Ken again popped into my head.)  She was an artist at work.

     I got home slightly traumatized, afraid to look and so exhausted I went straight to bed.  The next morning, while in the shower I was washing away some wax residue and – whoa, that area has never been smooth before.  Got out of the shower caught a glimpse in the mirror.  It’s not even a landing strip.  It’s more of a parking space.

What a Snore

            What’s in a name?  Well for those guys out there who fit into the cluster of common names, you really need to add some pizzazz to make up for your parents’ lack of imagination and creativity in naming you.  How many of you know at least five of each:  Mikes, Matts, Dans, Bobs, Robs, Jasons (or if they go wild – Jay), Johns, and Joes?

            What your parents’ did do is give you a clean slate, a platform in which to jump from.  I mean, imagine the pressure of being named Jasmine and you are more of a weed, or Moses and find you can only fall into puddles and not part them?  Man, what a let down you are.  But no, common namers have nowhere to go but up.  So why would you choose to be the boring guy?

            My date on Sunday with Bill 2 was just that – boring.  By the time I had gotten home later that night I had completely forgotten I had had a date that afternoon until a friend asked me how it was.  He was that dull.

            He mentioned something about working in health insurance – snooze.  Spoke in a monotone, inflectionless voice – snooze.  Asked generic “getting to know you” questions as if they were written down for him – snooze.  And of course, when all else fails, please, let’s talk about the weather – double snooze.

            The most exciting thing on the date was my Wild Cherry Pepsi which he thought sounded great.  So he ordered a water – snooze.

            After my little phone fiasco prior to the date, I quickly pulled out my phone once I got in my car and edited his contact information.  He is no longer “Bill – OC.”  Should he decide to text me again I want to be well prepared for. . . Snoozefest.