Sunday, October 28, 2007

Post Speed Dating Review

Because my new job thingy required a trip to Yakima and back yesterday, I had to opt out of any of the Halloween invites I'd previously received, but was able to get back in time to swing by the Karma Martini Lounge in Belltown for my originally schedule Speed Dating event. Aaah, yes, speed dating. It's an interesting concept and one I rather enjoy. Just go out, meet and talk to 10 guys within a couple hours, cast your votes for the ones you want to see again...and see what happens. It's so much less time consuming than the tedious task of regular Internet dating.

So how did it go, you may be asking. Let me give you the run down.

Pre-Dater #11 (the first gentleman for me to meet) was immediately annoyed by my use of the word "chemistry." As in, "I'm looking for someone with whom I connect, have a spark and there is a chemistry." Yeah, apparently this fella has been bombarded with the word chemistry. Six minutes of pretty much him gagging over the use of that word. Alrighty then. Moving on.

Pre-Dater #10, a tall fella with long hair and pleasant smile, seemed interesting in some way, but honestly I can't really remember any details about him...except that he works outside a lot, in various neighborhoods. A general contractor? I don't think so. Real Estate? Ummmm...no, that wasn't it. Six minutes. Six very quick minutes to talk to these men. No real time to jot down notes.

Pre-Dater #9 informs me that he technically isn't exactly divorced. He was...he thought, but now he's not. Huh? Apparently, his wife, err ex-wife, stirred up some trouble after the divorce was final and got the divorce voided?? Yeah, I'm not sure what that is all about. I don't really care. Too messy for me. Next!

Pre-Dater #8. Oooh, here we go. He's a hottie. Stunning blue eyes and dark hair. A total turn on. An avid skier. Yum yum. Works...somewhere??? Who cares. I'm digging him. Oh, but that darn bell goes off and we have to rotate already! Oh well. Hopefully, we'll get to talk again in the near future.

Pre-Dater #7, a dentist in West Seattle (which I find out later is actually Burien. Burien is not West Seattle...at least it is not the same as West Seattle) and a collector of classic muscle cars. Other than getting a ride in his '68 Camaro, not really feeling any reason to reconnect with this one.

Pre-Dater #6 is a super smiley fella, lives nearby, skis, runs, hikes etc... Although I'd love to meet a skier/hiker and general outdoorsy guy, there was just something about him that didn't work for me. It might have been the smile. It was almost too much. Like Stan Laural of Laural and Hardy. It was distracting.

Pre-Dater #5 enjoys sci-fi movies and computer games. Ummm...yeah. Say no more.

Pre-Dater #4 is into salsa dancing and learning to play his guitar.

Almost done here.

Pre-Dater #3 was a cutie pie. Geographically not so compatible (lives in Everett), a Boeing Engineer, with a degree in Industrial Art. I think that is what he said...I was a little distracted by his cuteness.

Pre-Dater #2. I can't remember one thing about this guy. I didn't write down one notation. I only remember that I most definitely did not want to get together with him again.

Pre-Daters #1 and #12 were a no show. So that was it. Ten fellas. Six minutes each. Time to go home and make our choices on line and see if there are any 'matches'.

But before I go home, I am sitting at the bar finishing my vodka martini and Pre-Dater #11 comes over to me and begins talking. He sits down and orders a beer and we continue to chat...and chat...and we're laughing and having a decent time actually. Reminder: this is the guy who was pretending to slit his wrists when I used the word "chemistry." He manages to wrangle my phone number from me. I rarely give my number out and I'm not sure what made me do it now. Must have been the vodka martini. He walked me to my car two and half hours later. I'm not at all attracted to this man. But honestly, it was an enjoyable couple of hours. We gave each other a friendly little hug goodbye. I wasn't even home yet when I received a text message from him. I don't answer. I don't pay for text, so I don't use it as a rule.

Here's the problem. I cast my votes when I got in last night. I voted for #'s 8 (obviously, he was totally hot AND a skier), 3 and 10. I wasn't too into #10, but felt like I should give him a shot. But what about #11? We spent the rest of the night chatting. I gave him my number. How can I totally blow him off now and not vote for him? It's awkward. So I click the "yes" button. Shut my computer down and go to bed.

This morning he called and left a long and detailed voice message. He then left a message for me on the Cupid.com site. Uh oh. What have I done? Have I got a stalker on my hands?

I checked my 'matches' this morning and only numbers 10 and, of course, 11 matched with me. My other two choices did not pick the funny, fun and smart, sexy Wander Woman. Oh well. I did get picked by numbers 9 (the one in the middle of a divorced vs not divorced conflict), 7, the dentist with the muscle cars, 4, the guitar playing salsa dancer, 2, who I remember nothing about, and 6, Stan Laural. Okay, so the only three out of ten who did NOT pick me where the two I wanted to see again and the computer game playing geek. Terrific.

I am debating about giving Stan a try. He could be worth giving the time of day. I am just not certain.

I'll keep you posted on follow up dates...if they should occur.

Friday, October 26, 2007

Coffee Shop or Fish Market?

Two of Seattle's claims to fame are our coffee expertise and our local fish market...where they "toss" the fish. Whenever a visitor comes to Seattle, we locals generally make sure our guests visit the Pike Place Market to witness the fish toss and to take a peak at the original Starbucks Coffee Shop. You'd better advise your guests, however, which is which...because, frankly, it's getting harder and harder to tell the difference!

Let's take the WAMU Center Starbucks location for example. If you arrive anytime before 9.00 a.m. you'll stand in a line practically out the door, while baristas are yelling orders down the line.
"Can I help you get your order started, Ma'am?" They call out.

"Who me?" I turn to look around me. I'm seven people back from the ordering case. Could they be yelling down the line at me? "Um, I'll 'ave the pum...eh hem...eh HEM," I clear my throat, trying to wake my voice up. It's the first time I've spoken yet today and I've got morning voice...and it's definitely not ready to yell out my order through a crowd of businessmen. Getting my vocal chords in check, I call out "I'll have a tall, pumpkin spice, non-fat, no whip latte, please!" But I'm still a bit squeaky.

Barista: "What's your name?"

"Loreley," I croak.

Barista, writing on a paper cup and yelling down the line of baristas on the other side of the counter: "one tall, pumpkin spice, non-fat, no whip latte for Loreley!"

I just love that everyone in line 1. knows my name and 2. knows what I'm ordering. And they also know I can't speak before nine a.m.

I eventually make it to the cashier.

"What are we making for you?" he asks.

"A tall, pumpkin spice, non-fat, no whip latte."

"That will be a gazillion dollars." Cause it may as well be on my low income. But I continue to spend my precious greenbacks on these stupid fancy lattes! And pumpkin spice is seasonal....it's not going to be around forever.

Finally, I'm part of the crowd gathering around the "order pick up" area where there's a frenzy of drink orders being yelled out, names hollered, and cups tossed on the counter. People push ahead to claim their drink. I swear my cup is going to come flying at me like a Sockeye Salmon at the fish market and I'm going to have to shoot my hand up and catch it in midair! It's just a bit too stressful for a morning coffee experience.

Where are the days of sitting down with a cup of coffee, that comes served to us in a ceramic cup and saucer style apparatus? We sip it casually while chatting with a friend or co-worker. Instead we grab our paper cup and hurry out into the world, back to the office, with our coffee getting cold and spilling out of the little hole from which we are suppose to slurp it. Sigh.

We may be the experts on making the coffee drinks, but we need a lesson from our European friends on how to serve, drink and truly enjoy it.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Bring Back the Fancy Frock

Last Saturday was my 15 yr old niece's first Homecoming Dance. A few weeks ago I went dress shopping with her and her mother. I was surprised at how fancy the dresses were for these events nowadays (I know I'm starting to sound old). They were even categorized "Homecoming Dresses" or "Social Dresses." I had use of a car on Saturday, so I drove up to Bothell to hang out and watch her get ready for her date. She and the other gals from school had spent the entire afternoon at the salon getting their hair coiffed into 'up dos', mani's, pedi's and makeup applied. Even tanning appointments were the norm. By the time they were done they looked like bridesmaids and movie stars, not teenage homecoming dates. My niece looked gorgeous all glammed up for her big night. Oooh-la-la. When was the last time you got all dolled up like that? I am pretty sure my last time was my wedding...twenty years ago! Twenty years? Can that be right? How is it that I am an adult and never have an occasion to really go all out and get "fancified?

On Friday I went to see Spamalot at the Paramount Theater. Going to the theater used to be an occasion for dressing up. Not any more. At least not in Seattle. I wore a pair of dress slacks, a sheer top and heels and my date, who was sporting jeans, said "oh, you got dressed up." Dressed up? Since when are slacks and a pretty top considered "dressed up?" But he was right. By Seattle standards, I guess I was kinda dressy. My 22 year old niece who lives on Long Island has an entire wardrobe of evening gowns and matching shoes. Okay, sure, that's Long Island. I get it. But even so. I don't own ONE (although I do have the 'special occasion' shoes! You know, the ones that look dazzling, but you can't actually walk in them.)

I'll walk along 5th Ave and glance in the windows as I pass by viewing the formal gowns glimmering behind the glass and wonder "Who is buying this stuff? And where are the going in it?" Occasionally, I'll spot someone donning an evening gown at the symphony, the opera or ballet, but it's rare. And it's usually a woman over 60. A woman who remembers the day when we used to make these events, 'real' events worth getting dressed up for.

Granted, I am guilty of running around town in all too casual wear myself many days. I walk dogs in the afternoon, so the attire is jeans and sneakers...but even so, I make an attempt at looking "put together" in my dog walking uniform. It's a challenge to run around this rainy city wearing anything less than Wellingtons and Crocks, but I, for one, wouldn't mind stepping it up a bit. I mean, it's important to feel princess-like once in a while, even as an adult! Or is that especially as an adult?

Sunday, October 21, 2007

Limit Reached

Well, I think I've finally reached my threshold. My financially drained, bargain basement limit. It was last week that did me in. Prior to last week, I was in dog walker heaven. The beautiful golden days of autumn were mine for the taking. Taking dogs for a walk through the parks, that is. It was brisk enough to warrant a fleece vest, but nothing more. The rich marigold and orange-rust leaves crisp under our feet, we scooted along happily wagging our tails. It was delightful. And after the walks, a visit to Joe Bar, my favorite coffee shop slash gallery was always a treat. Oh yes, life was good.

And then last week happened. The rain. The wind. The hail. The heavy traffic due to said rain, wind and hail. The dogs weren't happy. I wasn't happy. We walked...we got wet. But even that wasn't the most annoying. Getting from one neighborhood to the next in this town without a car is tricky enough on a good weather day. Toss in some inclimate weather, nasty traffic, an accident or two, some power outages, and it's a royal nightmare. I made it through Monday and Tuesday with little incident. We even to managed to get a reprieve from the heaviest rains during the walks. Not bad actually. Some wet paws, but nothing that couldn't be handled by a mere toweling at the door.

It was Wednesday my downward spiral began. I had three whole things to do that day. Just three. In three different neighborhoods; Yoga in Lower Queen Ann, a dog walk on Capitol Hill, and a meeting at the language school on Lake Union. These three little things on my calendar took me an entire day to achieve due to bad weather, heavy traffic, late and missed buses! While walking from my apartment to my first bus I got drenched up to my knees (three blocks). Due to heavy traffic on Denny, the bus was late. I got off at Westlake only to see my connecting bus whizzing past me spraying water so high I looked like I had gotten caught in a tidal wave by the time I got to my appointment, fifteen minutes late.

Crabby, damp and disgruntled by the time I got home at 8 pm (for a total earnings of $12.00), I was looking forward to my next pet/house sitting gig in Ballard that provided me with a vehicle. Well, Thursday the winds kicked up, power outages ensued, and once again, traffic was stalled. It took over a half hour to drive one mile from one dog walking gig to the next. I wanted to pull over somewhere, park the car and walk, but I was stuck. No where to pull over to. Again, it took me the good part of a day just to walk three sets of dogs. Only one got caught in the rain, and one in 30 mph winds. They didn't seem too bothered...and I tried to keep my chin up ... and head down as I plowed through the weather.

Friday brought heavy rains which turned into a hail storm. I had an 11.00 interview in Ballard (Yes, an interview. Time to find an actual job I'm afraid), and my next dog walking appointment was 2.00 p.m. I left the interview at 1.00 p.m., sat in traffic for twenty minutes at the Ballard Bridge. Finally, a police car came and closed off the entrance. I turned the car out of line and headed toward Capitol Hill via Fremont and University Bridge. An exhausting hour later I arrived at the Capitol Hill house. Walked the dogs in soggy weather, left to head back to Ballard for my last walk of the day. On the way, it pours buckets! I wait for it to let up a bit before getting my last dog leashed up. But he's impatient. He's ready to walk!

Taking a deep breath, I realize this traipsing across town for a few bucks here and there just isn't going to help my financial cause. Not knowing how I'm ever going to pay my rent in two weeks, I met with the interviewer a second time. We discussed salary. It's not great, but the job sounds interesting with a little better potential than dog walking. So I shook his hand, hung up my leashes and I begin my new job on Monday.

Saturday, October 13, 2007

A Trip to the Movies

Last weekend I went to see the movie "Into the Wild." Although I'd never gotten around to reading the book (one of those many on my long list of "to reads."), I knew the premise. I'd read enough reviews and snippets and had heard people talk about the best selling book when it first came out. So I was aware of the general facts, as well as, the tragic ending. Even so, I was willing to pay $9 to see this movie.

This film was so powerful and touching that my tears began from the opening scene where our leading man is writing a postcard to a friend and continued right on through the rest of the film. I cried my eyes out- no, sobbed- for over two solid hours! As if the breathtaking cinematography, the poetic and loving tone of the narrator (the star's sister), and the spirituality of nature weren't enough, I'd just begin to get myself under control when the moving lyrics and passionate vocals of Eddie Vedder would burst through the speakers. The waterworks would crank up all over again.

At one point I had to step out to use the toilet (I am unable to go longer than a 90 minute stint without a potty break). I'd regained my senses, blown my nose, taken a deep breath before re-entering the dark solemn theater. As soon as I did, I saw our star, Chris, on the screen saying goodbye to the old man he'd befriended en route. What the conversation had been just prior, I could only imagine, but imagine I did, and the tears were once again streaming down my face as I was looking for my seat!

As the closing scene came upon us (finally), the camera pulled back to view the Magic [grave] Bus surrounded by Alaskan Wilderness in springtime. A bittersweet heartbreak. You could have heard a pin drop but for all the sniffling and nose blowing. I thought I could pull myself together enough to exit the theater with a shred of dignity, when a last note suddenly flashed on the screen. A note that his sister flew over Alaska spreading her deceased and much loved brother's ashes. Okay, I've just about had enough. By this time, I am exhausted and a complete mess.

Unfortunately, we were seated at the end of the row, so needed to exit to let others pass. I really did need more time...to sit in the dark...pretending to read the credits. My much more stoic friend and I scampered off into the ladies lounge where I attempted to compose myself and put eye drops in my ruby red peepers. Thing is, from observing the other women in there, it didn't appear anyone else had suffered from a severe case of cryingitis the way I had.

All in all, it was a powerful and inspiring story. One that will speak to you and stay with you long after the credits roll. A highly recommended, heart wrenching, tear jerker, if you're into that sort of thing. Anyone know of a good comedy out now?

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

Speed Dating 101

So I finally caved and signed up for one of those speed dating events. I went to one, as kind of a lark, in June 2006. It was suppose to be just a fun night out. Having just returned from Europe and realizing I had no single girlfriends left to troll with (they'd all acquired boyfriends, husbands and babies while I was away), I found myself sitting on the couch with my Blockbuster videos too many Saturday nights. I went with an open mind just to see what this event was all about. Ten men, six minutes with each one. It's actually a great way for some of us non-internet daters to sift through the muck. For me, wading through the plethora of (mostly) losers and liers on line and all the BS they shell out is exhausting. But in six minutes, or less, I can learn a LOT. First, is there an immediate attraction? No bluffing with the six year old photo when you're meeting face to face in an, albeit, dimly lit bar. Second, the guy's ability at quick wit and humor is apparent right off the bat. If someone doesn't 'get me' right up front, then they aren't going to get me...ever. And third, you can tell right away if you want to spend additional time getting to know this person. So not a lot of time is wasted in dozens of emails, eharmony stages, photo sharing, finding time to set up an actual date etc...

And, the last time I did go through this speedy process I met two great guys to date. After dating them both for about a month, things seemed to be getting a little more serious with one, so I had to let the other one go. Once I start sleeping with a guy, I just can't bring myself to continue dating other guys. Call me old fashion.

So now, a year after that relationship ended, I decided to sign up for another round. Why not? And if I don't meet anyone to date, it'll still be an interesting night out. However, the event is October 27th, the Saturday before Halloween. This fact was lost on me until I recently began getting several Halloween invites. Pumpkin carving parties, the Maris Farms Haunted Corn Field event, Halloween parties - the options were limitless. So the question is, do I cancel my speed dating event and postpone it to the next available date? Or just go and 'get it over with' so to speak? I'm toying with this question, when it occurs to me, "what guys will sign up for speed dating on Halloween Saturday?" Right, guys who have no Halloween parties, plans or friends to trick or treat with. Are these the kind of men I want to meet? Mmmm...Probably not.

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

Living in the (Caribbean) Clouds

Oh man. One of my dearest old high school buddies just sent me an email inviting me to go on a Caribbean cruise with her and two of her gal pals in January. I would absolutely LUV LUV LUV to go. Never mind that I never even considered a cruise before. It never seemed like my kind of vacation. All that preplanned organized structure. Eating with the same people every meal. Stopping at designated ports of call. Being on a time schedule. I always figured I'd be certain to miss the boat because I would be off fraternizing with the locals at some little beach taverna. I'd end up paying for a local fisherman to ferry me to the next port to catch up with the ship. Yes, this is my vision of me on a cruise.

Actually, that exact thing happened on a small day trip of island hopping in Greece. I was in a shop chatting with the owner. When I arrived at the harbor at what I thought was the correct time, the boat was not there. It was there a second ago when I went into the shop. I'm sure of it. I wasn't in there that long, was I? Anyway, another boat agreed to take me to meet up with my boat at one of the destinations. Unfortunately, I missed out on a whole stop. Oh well...it worked out. But you see how my gift of gab can get me into trouble.

So why am I so hell bent on going on this cruise with my friend? Well, first of all, I haven't been anywhere in months (again, forget the NY trip this summer...that was a family thing...not a 'vacation', exactly). Secondly, everyone...and I mean everyone swears that I would love a cruise. Everyone I've ever talked to has loved a cruise, even those who didn't think it would be for them. Some say it still isn't their preferred method of vacationing, but they had a great time and were glad they went. And thirdly, I know I'd have a blast with my friend....on this cruise thing...in the Caribbean (which I most certainly love!). She and I have been friends for 27 years and when we are together, which is not often enough, there is a LOT of laughing going on.

So what's the problem? You guessed it....$$$$. Get job, no vacation time accrued to take cruise. No job, no money to pay for vacation. Riddle me that? How is this very underemployed girl going to pay for such an extravagance? Getting a decent paying job to pay for said cruise would mean not having vacation yet to actually take said cruise. But at the rate I'm going now, how would I even consider paying for a cruise? It's such a vicious cycle....this whole job, vacation, eating thing.

Then there are all the other vacations swirling around in my head. My teacher friend in Oman is expecting me in March. My ski/golf buddy is begging me to go to Key Stone in December. I'm contemplating going back to school the first of the year. Where is all this imaginary money coming from? I barely made my rent this month.

You know how you hear about divorced money? Whenever there is a woman who has a surplus of cash people whisper "well, she's been married twice. She must have gotten huge settlements." I don't know that money. My ex-husband is the resident and current owner of "our" former home which has tripled in value. He also owns the ski condo which has done the same. He has just purchased a fancy wancy Audi something or other, and has a doctor girlfriend. Yeah....divorced money? Heaven knows I'm no financial wizard. Actually, I'm wizardly enough, I just refuse to conform to the normal ways it takes to actually have dough. I'll get there...eventually. In the meantime, I need to figure out a way to go on ALL my vacations, pay my rent, go back to school AND eat now and then.

Yeah yeah...I know, someone who is truly destitute would have a hay day with this post!

Monday, October 1, 2007

What's Missing?

It's been five years since my divorce. Five years and I haven't met anyone "special" who has swept me off my feet. Well, one guy swept me onto my @$$ as he semi-broke my heart and disappeared into the abyss. But honestly, that wasn't a long-term serious thing anyway. So, no...no one has tripped along coming even close to being my 'soul mate', my 'life long partner' or anything remotely boyfriendish. Not even a regular fella to date more than once or twice.

When I first left my husband, all I wanted was to be alone. I wanted to "see the riviera and watch the sun come up in a stranger's arms" as Cheryl Crow would croon in the song that resonated with me and my situation at the time. And I got exactly what I wanted. I'd never really been alone having met my husband my first year at college and never really dating much before then. I used to joke that I married the first decent guy who paid attention to me. After almost 18 years together, alone was definitely what I craved. I basked in my aloneness and my freedom. And I still do most of the time. It's quite freeing not to have anyone else's agenda to consider while considering what I feel like doing on any given day.

Yesterday, after a rainy walk and exploration of the amazing and tropical Volunteer Park Conservatory, I snuggled down to watch "Pillow Talk" with Doris Day and Rock Hudson. Oh, Rock...now there's a man. Mmmm. In the beginning of the film, Doris makes a comment about how much she likes living alone. She has a great apartment, a terrific career as an interior decorator and dates eligible gentlemen who take her out to nice places. What could be missing? To which her maid says "If you have to ask, you're definitely missing it."

Mmmm....good point.

The other day I saw my friend, J, who had just seen my ex-husband. So she gave me the update on his life. Although we don't speak (his choice, not mine), I still like to know what he's up to and that he's doing well. J informed me that he was very happy with his new gal. I knew that they'd been together...well, pretty much since the day I said I wanted a divorce. He wasted no time filling the void I left. That's fine. My choice was to be alone. That was not his choice and he made that clear. Good for him. We both got what we wanted...and needed. I am truly happy that he found someone better suited for him and he is happy. I'd be riddled with guilt if he was alone trying to find that someone to share life with, while I was traipsing through Europe having a hay day and sowing oats like a mad woman.

However, what I don't really need to know are the details. His new woman is Dr. Perfect (yes, a pediatric oncologist), an architect (she drew plans for their house remodel), basically a genius from what I'm told. She is Croatian - the most beautiful women in the world according to Croatian men, as well as many other men around the globe. She speaks at least three languages fluently and she managed to get my ex to support her during the last five years as she isn't qualified to practice medicine in the States. She hasn't taken the US exams yet. She is a genius. I couldn't get the guy to entertain the idea of me quitting my miserable insurance job unless I had a job lined up. No unemployment in our house by golly. He wasn't about to carry the load even for a few weeks. She hit it off with my ex-doctor who chewed me out royally for leaving my husband, and to top it off she has the metabolism of a gnat!

No I'm not bitter. Envious? Possibly. Of course, I'm glad he has found someone great. As I said, riddled with guilt otherwise. But sheesh. Does she have to be soooooooooo much better? Clearly, I wouldn't give a rat's @$$ if I had Mr. Perfect sleeping in my bed. This I do realize.

Well, off I go...to carry on with my well-made single life. Which I do enjoy....yes, I do.