hile I am, in theory, heterosexual and interested in proving it, I've not made any effort to date in recent years. I was quite active with the ladies some years ago, mostly after high school and during college, but of late I've not had much desire to bother with it.  My usual excuses are the inconvenience, expense, and effort involved, when I'm not wanting to be in a relationship enough to offset those negatives.  I belabor this point on a regular basis.

More than just my personal feelings on women, there will also be commentary about dating and relationships in general, and societal trends.

This page began long before I encountered Malaya, but since we started online chatting in early 2003, I flew up to visit her twice in mid 2003, we fell in love, and moved in together in July 2003, my views on dating, loneliness and other such topics are obviously very different now than they were back in 2002.

More recent updates are on top.

February 15, 2003

One thing I did learn yesterday is that if you are going to break off a budding romance with a woman who likes you a lot more than you like her, you do not want to do it 1) with an email, and 2) on Valentine's Day morning.

My first sighting of one of the aforementioned female friends, yesterday, was her popping online in the AM and just going a mile a second about the potential BF who had broken it all off with a classic "Dear John" (Jane?) email.  On the morning of V's day, when the Jane in question had been very much hoping that their relationship would finally begin to really take off.

I don't know how it is for other men, but Valentine's Day to me is almost entirely irrelevant.  I mean you see ads for it on TV, but it's sort of a glorified Secretary's Day, or Grandparent's Day.  Just something commercialized for the benefit of florists and greeting card sellers and expensive restaurants.

My caveat is that I haven't had a GF on V's Day in years, so I don't have first hand experience with it, and perhaps if I did have a GF I would be looking for a special day and excuse to do nice things for her, romantic things, and this would provide one.

I still don't think I'd be too caught up in it, I mean I hardly celebrate Xmas or my b-day; I'm just not a celebrate a day on the calendar sort of person.  When I'm in a relationship I think that anniversaries (of first date, or whatever, since I've never been married) for you two personally, are important.  Not even necessarily annual anniversaries, maybe you just want to set the 20th of the month for a special day, and always do something together then.  Whatever, it's a day based on you two and your relationship. Not just some February 14th date that's on a calendar, and has virtually nothing to do with what it originally meant.

My lack of concern for the day is not especially relevant here, since the Dear Jane in question is pretty much the opposite of me in this, and puts a lot of importance on the day.  To the point that it's one of the biggest days of the year, for her, in terms of a BF/romance, and she's made no secret of that to me, so her former semi-boyfriend surely must have realized that as well.

Which makes his breaking it off that morning, and with an email, not even a phone call, all the more heartless/thoughtless.  And made her all the more distressed.  I haven't talked to her today, but I hope she's feeling better and realizing that he wasn't really the one and thinking back to all the signs of that she was ignoring when she was hoping he was, etc.

So guys, that's the tip.  Make a big damn deal out of V's Day, even if you think it's silly, and for god's sake don't break up that day, and don't break up with an email under any circumstances.

Advice I shall try to store away, in case I need it some time in the future.

January 8, 2003

I teased yesterday, here's a bit more about my new non-secret semi-admirer.

So Sunday an email comes in.  No text, just a subject, which reads:

Where is your picture? Scared to show us who you are?

I didn't give it much thought, but since I get emails semi-regularly at the D2 site asking what I and the rest of the admins look like, usually from bored 14 y/o's who are none-too polite in their asking, I didn't take this email too dearly to my heart.  I gave him a quick reply to the tune of, "I don't have an organized page with images of me, but I've posted some pics every now and then, and there are some from the E3 articles on the D2 site as well. Or you could just click back a few weeks in the daily archives, I posted some not too long ago."

Not a rude reply, but I was doing other things, and wasn't really in the mood to dig up photos of my stupid ass for every idiot who might email about it.  Plus I'm sort of annoyed at myself for not having decent photo navigation set up by now, (see my New Year's Resolutions) and my self-loathing tainted my email reply.  I didn't expect to hear back.

Yet I did.

The next day he replied saying he looked but couldn't find any, and suddenly during the course of the email, the assumed he became a she, in my reading mind.  More over, she was a self-proclaimed she, which doesn't mean a lot on the internet, but it's better than nothing.  I'm not using her name, so we'll just call her Kay, which matches the first initial of her name, and looks more like a name than just the single letter "K".

Just so no one mails about this asking where the hell the pics are, here's a couple new ones, taken New Year's Day, with my new jacket on.  They are in the bathroom mirror, at night, no flash, so are sort grainy.  But not too bad.  I usually hate how I look in photos, and I merely dislike these, so I guess that's an improvement.

I like to tell myself that I'm not ugly.  I don't harbor illusions of being good looking, but when I also don't harbor illusions of having any idea what women see as attractive or not in men, so I'm far from an expert.  However I know I'm not exactly missing out on a career as a fashion mode.

Anyway, I sent her links to this and this and these, and didn't think I'd hear from him/maybe-her again.

Yet I did.

Here's a crop of the other shot, where I think she looks very cute.  Nice hair too.  Not that she isn't cute in the other stage dancing shot (he said hurriedly) but the face only is even cuter.

Why would anyone do that?  Why not, it's the Internet.  There are freaks galore. *cough*

Anyway, we've traded a few more pics, which is nice of Kay being as there are lots of photos of me around here, and they are all of this dopey looking guy.  While there aren't any pics of her I can see otherwise, and the ones of her feature a pretty woman.

So we've chatted a few times, including some ICQathons, and it's fun to have someone new to talk to who doesn't hate me.  Yet.

And no, no cyber yet.  Also, in answer to my rhetorical question from yesterday:

One thing I'm wondering, if anyone has more experience with it than I do.  How many emails are you supposed to trade before dropping all pretense and just babbling on about hot monkey sex?  I don't think two is enough, so maybe like five or six, if they're relatively long mails, and the phrase, "fuck off and die, you creep." doesn't crop up all that often?  Thanks in advance for the advice.

I can report that the answer is 4, assuming at least two of them are pretty long, and you don't mind being teased and taunted like the horny pig you are.

More to come, perhaps.

January 7, 2003

Tomorrow's update should be interesting.  The image to the right is a little tease.  The woman so-lovingly pictured wrote me a couple of emails, looking for pics of me, and I replied, and she replied in kind, and eventually sent a couple of pics of herself.

"Hubba Hubba!  Fresh fish!"  Wouldn't kick her out of the hot tub, now wouldja?

So spit out those peanut M&Ms and sit up straight, because tomorrow I'll tell about her initial mail, my inept reply, and how we came to be trading pictures and long emails.  You'll also be able to see the rest of this picture, which she has graciously permitted me to share with my vast and frequently sweaty-palmed audience.

As they always say, the best way to meet women is to run your own frequently-obscene website.  I've been doing this since February 2002, and this is not the fourth, not the sixth, not even the eleventeenth...

She is the first woman to write in who I can, in some pathetic, desperate, quasi-virginal way, pretend gives a shit about me as a maybe potential boyfriend type unit, aside from the fact that she lives thousands of miles away and is probably readying her affidavit for the restraining order even as I type.

Take that, you singles' bar crawling, herpes-infected, gotten-laid-in-recent-memory Iguanodons!

One thing I'm wondering, if anyone has more experience with it than I do.  How many emails are you supposed to trade before dropping all pretense and just babbling on about hot monkey sex?  I don't think two is enough, so maybe like five or six, if they're relatively long mails, and the phrase, "fuck off and die, you creep." doesn't crop up all that often?  Thanks in advance for the advice.

October 12, 2002

After the movie, we were waiting for the elevator to go down to the parking garage, and while standing next to my mom with some other people on the left, a woman walked up and looked sort of tentatively at me, leaning to the side, and asked, "Are you John?"

I wasn't looking at her when she came up, and just got my eyes up to her while my head was already shaking a quick no.  She said, "Oh! I'm sorry!" and backed away and was gone very quickly.

The weird part was that she sounded really embarrassed, like she'd just caught herself offering the Pope a quickie. Way more apologetic than you'd expect for a misidentification. A second later as the elevator arrived my mom pipes up, "Sure, I'm John.  What's your name?" which was somewhat amusing.  The other people there, a couple of couples, laughed at least.  I was thinking that myself, that I could have replied that, or at least talked to her about who John was, and that Eric was someone she'd rather be talking to anyway.

I thought of it as she asked, but rejected it as too much trouble and pointless.  Partially since I didn't see her until she asked, so had no idea what she looked like, but mostly since I was with other people, ready to go home, and thinking about the movie.  As well as my general lack of interest in dating for recorded memory.

I don't think she was doing it as an opening to flirt or talk, she sounded way too embarrassed for that, and vanished way too quickly.  I've had a woman hit on me like that before, years ago.  She came up to me outside an arcade and said, "Don't I know you?"  An obvious "I like how you look, talk to me." opening there.  This woman wasn't doing that, at least I don't think so.  And if she were she was way too quick with it, and the subsequent retreat before I could even get a look at her.

It's sort of funny that she would, if she had been, in that area.  We saw the movie in Hillcrest, which is an artsy sort of downtown area, and the biggest gay area in town.  Downstairs from the movie theatre is a small 24 Hour Fitness place, and looking in the windows at the weight machines it's always like 95% men, all of them neat and well-groomed, if you see what I mean.  I don't think they just play YMCA all day on the speaker system, but I wouldn't rule it out of the regular rotation over the locker room speakers.

My point is that Hillcrest is about the last place a woman would want to be looking to meet a guy, unless she was after a new best friend/fashion consultant.  Insert hairdresser joke here, if you feel the need.

Every time I'm out with my mom/stepdad, it seems like I get hit on, too.  By a woman, I mean.  Some months ago I took them out to lunch and they were laughing about how much one of the waitresses was checking me out.  I didn't see it at all at the time, but they assured me she was very obvious about it.  So I'm not ruling out the possibility the woman Friday night was trying that also, and my general lack of interest/attention to flirting is the only reason I didn't see it coming like a Mack truck.  I'm also not willing to argue that I don't get looks or nearly hit on other times, when my parents aren't around to point it out to me.  The other factor is that I never go out to anything by myself, other than occasionally a movie, and regularly the store.  So probably 75% of the time I'm in a restaurant or shopping mall or other potential "meet a date" type places, I'm with one parent or the other.

I suppose it's encouraging that I apparently attract some interest, whether or not I've given any thought or effort to dating this millennium.  At the same time, I like to think I notice everything going on around me; am aware of the reactions of other people, etc.  And if there are women looking me over and I'm not even aware of it, that's somewhat disconcerting.  There are worse things to be unaware of, and I never step into traffic without seeing it coming, but seeing cars coming isn't quite as likely to get me laid.

August 25, 2002

My future girlfriend appears to have flown the coop just ahead of my grasping fingers.  She wasn't there Saturday night either, and the same evil imposter female who was there Friday was there again.  This makes me suspect the change is a permanent thing, and this new woman will be manning that post for the rest of the year.  If there had been two different people the last two nights, I'd think that my potential paramour was just out sick or had the painters in or something, but with just one, it looks like a replacement.

Now wouldn't it be ironic if I began talking to her and we ended up dating, etc?

That's not entirely out of the question; she's not hideous or anything, just sort of average.  Short dark red/black hair, slim, vaguely-pretty face.  Of course being as I'm so totally perfect in every way, I have the right to expect a potential GF to be something like Nicole Kidman's younger, hotter sister.  Right?

Walked by her twice Saturday night, and both times took a look as I approached.  Mostly out of curiosity, as I was obviously hoping she'd be someone else (they look nothing alike, so it's not as if anyone could confuse the two women).  Both times she was looking back at me as I walked up and then past, and the second time I gave her a nod and what passes for a smile on my lips, and she grinned back.

And at that moment, I was smitten, and knew we belonged together, forever!  Well not really, I've never felt that way about anyone, but perhaps some day I will.

Does it really matter if a woman I've never spoken to in my life, who might turn out to be a lot of fun and shag like a minx, is a 5 or a 7, on a very quick physical appearance scale?  Apparently so, since I was getting myself convinced to try and chat up the 7, but the 5 who actually shows more interest at this very initial stage doesn't seem to be registering on my radar.  No wonder the only females ever in my bedroom are hand-held and furry.

August 24, 2002

So as I wrote Wednesday, I was trying to get myself fired up to care enough to talk to the semi-cute girl I see semi-regularly at my semi-work. I forgot all about it come Friday night, perhaps showing just how into this I really am.  Anyway, I gave it not a thought, and on my second sales venture I happened to be down on Field level, walking towards her station, when suddenly my brain turned over.

I almost stopped in my tracks, but contented myself with a mental, "holy shit!" and felt a moment of panic.  I wanted to turn around, or just charge up the long stairway back to Plaza level; I was not ready to talk to her/a girl.  However I forced myself on, saying I'd committed to doing it, and it would be interesting, etc.

I wasn't nervous about it, I just didn't want to do it, but I felt like I should.

So I rounded the corner to where she sits... and she's not there.  Some other woman with short brown hair, looking a bit like the cute one's cruel step-sister, was in her chair, with her clipboard.  The nerve!

The security people get a break or two a night, so I thought that perhaps she was on hers.  Alas, it was not to be.  I went by there three or four other times and the same woman was there every time.  Whether this is a sign of a night off or a permanent staff change is unknown.  I'll probably get down there at some point tonight, so we'll find out.

August 22, 2002

So is dating worth it?

I've not been interested/allowed myself to be interested in any women for quite some time.  I enjoyed having some girlfriends in the past, and spending time with women socially, even if we weren't exactly "dating". I guess I would again, but I tend to see all of the negatives, rather than the motivating positives.  Not even negatives, but more like inconveniences.  Time, expense, change in schedule, etc.

This is motivated by there being a woman at work who I'm sort of noticing, and realize that I could get interested in, if I put some effort to it.  Of course I know nothing about her, not her name, not the sound of her voice, not whether she's married or single or lesbian, etc.  In other words, it's pretty stupid to start thinking about her in any detail, when I have no idea if anything could come of it.

It's weird how I feel though, like I have a faint desire to think about her, so I'd get interested, and then be motivated to talk to her.  I recall when I was dating a lot, and eager for girls, and it wasn't this switch on/off thing like I feel now.  I'd see a woman and if she was attractive (to me) I was interested.  Whether or not I decided to pursue things further was a complicated issue depending on my dating status, just how interesting she seemed to be, opportunity, etc.  But I was pretty much always interested at first sight of a pretty girl.

Now I assume that they are married or engaged, or wouldn't be interested in me, if I even give it that much thought.

Anyway, this girl works at a doorway down on the field level where people with proper credentials can enter to go down to the really choice seats.  No common riff raff may enter that domain, only people with the special tickets, and she sits in a chair and has a little clip board with names on it. Nothing interesting about that, but I walk past her 3 or 4x a night, and the last two days I've noticed that she's pretty.

The funny thing about it is that she reminds me of me.  She's always got a serious half-frowning expression, even as she's just staring off into space, bored.  I imagine she's had people her whole life telling her to smile, and I always got that as a kid also; since my natural expression was a sort of frown.  I smile when I laugh or am very happy, but my "at rest" expression is sort of a scowl, regardless of my mood.  So I figure we've got a weird thing in common.

And being as I'm male, my main notice right off is that she's pretty.  Sort of bookish pretty, like a hot librarian, with cat's eye glasses and long blonde hair, pulled back, with a slightly above average face.  I think she'd be really cute with some make up on and her hair down, and probably into the beautiful range if you added a smile and removed the glasses. (Note that I like a smile and think it's a bonus feature, despite my comments about never wearing one myself.)

So I'll go by and see her, say something quick and stupid just so she'll notice, and then move on.  She did smile at me tonight when I make one quick joke as we passed in the crowd.  The potentially-deciding event was my walking by her post late in the game, and she was standing up and talking to some security guy.  As he left I was walking up, and she turned to look the other way, giving me my first look at her body.  Not that the black slacks and white polo shirts we wear at work are in any way attractive or flattering, but I could at least see that she was thin, tall, and fit.  A woman with nice slim legs and butt moves up about 4 points in my "she's hot" scale.

I was walking past her actually muttering to myself, "Oh shit, she's got a great ass.  I'm doomed." In reference to my probably having to try and move on her now.  If she'd been fat I could/would have scratched her off my mental list entirely, for someone to try and get to know.  Not that I refuse to socialize with anyone (female) overweight, but I'm not going to be sexually attracted to a woman who is not in shape, so there's really no point in spending time working to get to know her if I'm not going to want to date her.  If I worked with her she could weigh 300 pounds and I'd be happy to talk to her if she had an interesting personality, but I wouldn't want to date her no matter what.

Probably cruel of me, but I don't see any point in dating someone I'm not going to want to have sex with, even though the odds of getting to that stage in a relationship aren't good to begin with, and aren't my main motivation anyway.  It's sort of like entering a really long and potentially difficult contest to win a prize that I didn't really want in the first place.

Yes, this is just another way for me to keep myself from being arsed with a relationship.

I won't have a chance to go down where she works tomorrow, I don't think, but hopefully Friday or Saturday I'll go by there, and if she's in sight and not busy, I will endeavor to force myself to stop and actually talk briefly.  Try to get her number or something, or at least find out her dating status, so I'll know if I'm totally wasting my time.

If I end up in some big relationship thing and suddenly don't have time for this website, it will be all your fault.  Or perhaps all my fault.

Plus you know if I'm dating I won't be able to write much about the juicy details on here, since the GF would be reading along, so yes, it would ruin the blogs both in time and content.  Good, something else to blame women for.

Yes, I'm better at coming up with excuses not to date than at actually dating.  Much like writing fiction.  See below.

My hair was about a month overdue for a haircut, and I finally got out Friday afternoon and got it taken care of.

I went for most of my 20's with long hair.  Not waist-length or anything, but after some years of barely a pony tail, with it long all over (so the bangs were actually the longest), I let it grow all over. I combed it straight back always, usually with the pony tail in the back, though I'd wear it loose from time to time.  Girls loved it.  I don't have any pics of me from then handy, but I'll dig some up at take a picture at some point, for it was long and reddish-brown-blonde and shimmering.  Every girl friend I had in college would just play with it and comb it and run their fingers through it, etc.

Anyway, around three years ago I finally got tired of it. Long hair is high maintenance.  You have to shampoo and condition it just about every day, or it gets itchy and snarly.  It's hot on your head and neck all the time, it's a pain when you sleep; smothers you when you roll over.  Your bathroom and shower drains are always getting clogged from the long strands, and it even screws up your vacuum cleaner, winding all around the rotating brush thing.  This isn't to mention people mistaking you for a female from the rear view, having to brush it back from your face all the time, etc.  The annoyances of it are legion; so you have to really want to have long hair to put up with it.

I eventually got to where I didn't want it enough anymore, and cut about 6 inches off one night myself.  That was still shoulder length and didn't look that different, so I cut about another six inches off the next day, and then about a week later went to a barber for the first time in like eight years, and got it shorter and organized.  I felt like such a tool, all white bread and neat and such.  The outlaw youth was gone forever.  Or something.

Of course no one else really cared, just that people at work were asking me, "Did you cut the hair?" for a while.  So obviously they had noticed the long pony tail, though no one ever commented on it when I had it.  Bastards.

In the two or three years since then, I've been experimenting with various styles, and not found one I like yet.  I don't really care how I look enough to bother with my hair being just so, and I don't want it newscaster short and neat, but other than that I don't really have a clue.  I don't like big hair; so I keep the sides short, so it doesn't poof up, but mostly I've just been doing a center part with it short on the sides and back.  It's ugly, I'm sure, but I have no eye for what looks good on men.  Other guys hair I just never notice, unless it's a total disaster.  The only things I do notice and dislike in male grooming are sideburns (hate them), and scraggly curly short hairs on the back of the neck.  Guys get those after they get a haircut and don't keep shaving the back of their neck, and I think they look just horrible.  I do my neck with the beard trimmer thing on my electric razor every week or so just to get those.

Anyway, my point is that I never know what I want in a haircut, but I just get them when it's becoming too annoying to ignore.

Yesterday's haircut was interesting solely for the haircutter, who was flirting outrageously, as best I could tell.

She was mid-30's, dressed like an 18 y/o, and relatively cute.  Reddish faux leather jeans, black belly shirt, and about 5 pounds too heavy to wear that really well; she had a little pot poking out.  Not fat, but maybe 50 more sit ups a day would have helped.  I didn't find her sexy at a glance, but as she worked on me, I started to notice her more.

Her top was tight black, cleavage style, like a V-neck, with a push up bra.  So she had the twin bullets look, with the v-neck low enough to show off a lot of each breast.  That's from 10 feet away.  I was one foot away, and often less, as she repeatedly stood right in front of me and leaned over, while holding the sides of my head.  She was doing that to judge how even my hair was on the sides, but I've had 8 or 10 hair cuts with my hair sort of how it is now, and this was the first time the person on the other end of the scissors used a technique at all like that.

At one point she was talking about her daughter's sun burn, and showed me her burnt shoulder, which entailed reaching up to her shoulder, and pulling her top and bra strap down over the side of her arm. It wasn't a flash or anything, but it was rather a lot of skin on display suddenly.  Not the sort of thing you expect a total stranger to do.

She was also very touchy-feely, resting her hand on my back as I first sat down, running it up my neck as she'd walk around behind me, leaning into my arm with her belly as she was cutting.  Since she was doing that from the first time I sat, I initially thought she was just like that.  And maybe she is.

First thing was shaving up the sides and back some, taking off the growth from the 3 months since my last haircut. She was pretty normal with that, and after a bit more snipping took me over for the shampoo.  As I was sort of expecting, she did a much longer shampoo than they usually do, really massaging and scratching the scalp, which feels great.  When I do massage on a person (woman, ideally) I always spend a lot of time on the head and face and neck, rather than just the shoulders.  Really relaxing; lots of tension in the scalp for most people.

She didn't just quick shampoo as usual, she scrubbed and rubbed, then rinsed and did some sort of conditioner as well, which I've never had a haircutter do at that place in the 4 years I've been going there.

Then it was back to the chair for the trimming, and she was talkative and enjoyed my wry humor, but was spending a lot of time standing in front of me, looking right at me from a foot or two away.  I'd look back a bit, but I didn't want to seem like I was staring too much (though she obviously wanted me to?) so I'd look off to the side or down.  But down was her belly, about three inches of nicely-tanned skin visible over her thick belt, and up higher were the twins.  I'd be looking up to the side sort of absently, and she'd hold my temples and look into my eyes, and say, "Can you look down?" which of course put me right at her tits.

While she's doing this she's standing in front of me, and there is a counter with the mirror there, so she's resting against my knees.  Other cutters when they do you from the front they rotate the chair, but she'd just squeeze between the counter and the chair, which meant she was virtually in my lap probably 50% of the time.

The conversation was funny also.  I really wasn't trying to steer it in any direction, but she was combing my hair out and checking for the length, and saying, "It's about six inches this way.  Is that long enough."  I said, "Now you know that size doesn't matter." in a joking fashion.

She immediately came back (as women 98% of the time do), "Oh yes it does." While she's standing literally a foot from me, with her hands on the sides of my head, looking into my eyes.

Now perhaps she's like that with everyone, or with all the guys, trying to get big tips? She mentioned having a 12 y/o daughter, and asked how old I was, where I worked, etc.  Didn't say how old she was, but she guessed 25 for me, and seemed happy to hear that I was thir... I mean twenty-nine.  Of course.  Anyway, how did it turn out?  Did I ask her if she were single and wanted to get dinner some night?

No, of course not.  I just enjoyed it for the experience, and didn't really give it any thought at the time.

I've always felt like I should seem non-horndog.  Most guys I see ogling every woman in range, turning around to stare when a pretty girl walks by, and just generally making a spectacle of themselves.  Women claim that they don't like it when men are obvious like that, but I think what that means is they don't like it when men are obvious like that towards other women, or when the guy being obvious is all skeevy or won't take a hint if they don't like him.

This woman at the hair cut place obviously dresses pretty sexy to get attention, and was obviously giving me every hint on earth that she was interested, right?  Or maybe she was just a flirt and meant nothing of it, and my lack of immediate slobbering encouraged her to keep trying to get a rise out of me. So to speak.

It's funny, back in high school when I had it short and could never set on a style (which is why I ended up just growing it long and shapeless) I used to want to shave my head, just to not have to deal with or think about it.  Unfortunately at that time no white guy on earth had a shaved head unless he was in chemotherapy, boot camp, or was a Nazi. Or all three.  Even black guys weren't doing it much yet.  Now that white guys can have shaved heads, and often do, I can't quite bring myself to do it, mostly since it usually looks horrible.  Though I'm sort of interested to see what my bone structure would look like, if my hair was very short.  I like how I look with my hair just cut and all brushed back when wet; my head looks small and sleek.  So no hair at all, or just a little bit on top would probably be cool.  Maybe next time. 

Afterwards I was thinking about her actions, and wondering why I wasn't excited.  Literally as well as figuratively.  I mean that's about the most intimacy I've had with any woman in several years, since I've not been on any dates.  This probably gives you a good idea why; since I can get just short of a lap dance with scissors and not even get a hint.

She was cute, she was friendly, she was fun to talk to, and she'll be totally forgotten in like two days, since I just don't seem to have any need or desire for female company at this time.  I didn't even get into the justifications for not pursuing her that I usually do when I think about why I'm not dating.  No thoughts of my lack of money, crappy apartment, weird pets, impotence... um, no wait, I don't have that last one.

But I didn't even have to think of reasons to talk myself out of it, I just didn't have interest in it in the first place.  I don't think this is normal for a man.  Not like anything else I do is either, but you know what I mean.

Anyway, I'll get another hair cut in like November, so cross your fingers for more hot scissor action then.

July 8, 2002

I had an odd dream last night.

I don't dream often. Well, I assume I dream every time I'm asleep, but I don't remember my dreams very often.

In any event, the ones I do remember are almost invariably weird.  In this one I was me, and it was semi-close to reality.  I was at work and as I got back to the stand to get another load of crap to sell, some beautiful dark-haired woman was there waiting and looking at me as I trotted up.

I assumed that she wanted to buy some cotton candy, since often there are people who haven't caught a vendor, but have been directed to the stand, and will arrive just as a vendor does and buy from one of us as we come back out with fresh crap. She just smiled at me as I went by though, and I gave her a quick one back, and said, "I'll be right back out." still assuming she wanted to buy something.

As I went in and was counting up the money to pay for the load I just sold, the manager told me, "This woman was asking for you.  Pretty, dark-haired, you see her?"

I said yeah, but was immediately thinking, "hmm."  Wondering if I'd stiffed her kid on change or something, or she was a friend of one of my mom or dad, or something.  She didn't look like anyone I'd ever known in the past.

I had no idea in the dream that this was a dream, which is par for the course.  I never realize I'm dreaming while I am, at least not in the ones I remember, so no lucid fun for me.  There wasn't really anything in this dream to tip me off, since it was pretty life-like, but other dreams I'll remember are obviously not real, but for whatever reason I never wake up to that fact at the time.  So to speak.

Anyway, I went back outside with the cotton candy and she was still there.  I set the stuff down and looked at her and said, "You were looking for me?"  She of course was, and started talking.  She was a fan of my website (this one) and lived in the San Diego area, and only after reading the daily updates for few weeks had she realized that I was in the same area. And since I'd mentioned in several blogs that I worked at the stadium, what I sold there, and my name was on the site, she thought she'd come to a Padres game and find me.

I found it a little odd that she just showed up at my place of work, rather than sending an email to the site, but didn't say that while we were talking.  Yes, I had an internal dialogue going on in my dream.  Odd.

So we talked for a bit, and she obviously liked me and wanted to hang out sometime, and seemed a decent enough person.  Very pretty, nice body in a t-shirt and jeans, fan of my writing, etc.

So we hooked up and made hot monkey love down by the fire, right?

Of course not, it wouldn't be a typically-weird Flux dream if that happened.

I don't remember every detail, but we ended up at a restaurant somewhere talking (After work? The next day?  Unknown. I think next day, since I'm sweaty and tired after work, and it's late.) and somehow the whole discussion was about her life, and her nutty ex-husband. He'd screwed her on the divorce, and gotten custody of her two children, and she couldn't even get visitation rights for more than one weekend a month. Meanwhile he was playing way too much Diablo 2, buying items off of eBay and spending all his free time playing, and she thought neglecting her kids.

Now here was the coincidence I should have realized it was a dream from, since this is just stretching it.  I mean I'm one of the admins on the main Diablo 2 fansite, and she knew that, but hadn't found out about my blog site from that.  She'd just happened upon this one somehow, and gotten to like it, and had while reading this one seen that I was part of the D2 site, but it wasn't really her motivation.  In fact it had been a bad mark against me, since she was not a gamer and was so upset at her ex for being a fanatical one.

Sadly for this story, the dream sort of ended there, or at least my memory of it did. No confrontation, no resolution, and I didn't even get her naked.  Or get myself naked, a much more likely turn of events.

I'll work on one about Angelina Jolie in a wading pool of custard for tomorrow, k?

Of course if I did then the time in the wading pool would involve long discussions about UN refugee policy and she'd adopt another kid without mentioning it to me ahead of time, and the relating of the dream here would be just as anti-climactic as this one.

July 8, 2002

The semi-interesting subtext of the dinner was the hostess at the restaurant giving me several appreciative looks.

I never really can tell if a woman is just being friendly as part of her job, or taking a good look, or even eyeing for an invitation.  Unless she carries it on for so long that there's no way you could misinterpret.  I err on the side of disinterest in all situations, since I don't want to be a pushy asshole and hit on a woman who isn't interested.  Which of course explains a lot about my nonexistent social life.  Anyway, we (dad and I) sat at one table, and then chose to move to another one since the booth wasn't real comfortable.  Dad moved over to test out a chair first (we moved since he'd had back surgery and wasn't comfortable in the booth), and the hostess came over to the table where I was to bring me along and the menus.  I grabbed them as I got up, and she said something giggly like, "You're doing my job for me."

As we walked over to the new table I caught her eye and handed her back the menus, saying, "Okay, here you are." in a joking voice.  Once we sat down she handed us the menus again and I said, "Oh thanks, a menu!" and she was all smiling and wide-eyed.

I don't really have any idea if this is flirting or what.  I constantly make jokes like that when I'm working, and in my RL, what there is of it, and it's just my personality.  I see the humor in small events, and that sort of little interaction enlivens my day.  My mind is never on just one thing, I'm always viewing situations from multiple perspectives and angles and levels, and when another person is bright enough, or at least on my wavelength enough to see things with the sort of ironic/sarcastic detachment I generally view them with, they'll gain humor from my actions or comments that go over the head of most people.  Or not really over their head, they just wouldn't have any idea something was funny or meant (by me) to be funny, since I usually deadpan my sarcasm.

I'm not one to explain why something is funny, or why something was a joke; I let people who get it get it, and people who don't don't need to have it explained, since they won't think it's funny then, and will just wonder WTF I'm talking about.  My dad is somewhat the same way on humor, but he's not as able to let a joke go by if someone doesn't get it, and will often make some humorous little pun or remark to a waitress/waiter, and then say, "I'm teasing!" with a grin.  Which is probably more humane and personable, but isn't my way.

Anyway, the hostess seemed to like me, or was just being her usual friendly self; as I said, I never know.  Dad noticed that she seemed charmed and commented on it, so perhaps she was.  I of course did absolutely nothing else to interact with her, despite ample opportunity, and will never ever see her again.  Ahh, love.

I console myself with the fact that she was wearing super tight stretch pants and they were either two sizes too small, or her ass was two sizes too large.  And since any woman I even consider talking to much be physical perfection, that ruled her out.

Try that one if you want, it's a handy excuse to never be bothered with dating, since it just eliminates 99% of the population off hand.  And on the very rare occasions you see a 1% body, you can just tell yourself she's way too hot to not have a boyfriend and/or husband, and pass her right by.

You might tell yourself she probably contracted AIDS and Hepatitis C when getting that big ugly tattoo on the small of her back, if you need extra incentive to remain alone.

Yes, Flux's "How to avoid dating" advice rolls on.

June 13, 2002

Here's a new commercial I saw yesterday, that's got some interesting sociological commentary.  Yes, hard to believe.  I don't remember what the commercial was for, I think some kind of beer, but that's basically irrelevant for the purposes of this story.

The following is my summary of events in the commercial, indented for no particular reason.

The commercial shows a guy sitting on a couch, talking to three very attractive women.  They are at a party, in a big room, with lots of other people milling around.  The guy is average to good looking, but nothing special; dress shirt and Dockers sort of look, average hair, etc.  The women are eating him up, saying things like, "You're so fun to talk to!" and "I can't believe you don't have a girlfriend!" all smiles and laughing eyes and everything.  He says, "I'm up for grabs." with a laugh, and one sitting next to him playfully claws at his side while they all laugh.

He looks across the room and sees a guy he knows, and says, "Oh hey ladies, here's a friend mine.  This is Jack.  Jack, I'd like you to meet..."

Camera cuts to Jack, who is tall and dark, sort of scruffy hair, high collar jacket (maybe leather, I don't really remember exactly).

Jack interrupts the nice guy with a gruff, "Yeah, hi." and turns and leaves.

Camera cuts back to the guy and three girls on the couch, and the women are all leaning towards where Jack was seen, wistful looks on their faces.  "Wow!" says one.  "What can you tell us about your friend!" says another, while still staring after Jack with ravenous eyes.  All three are sort of sighing and moaning in a nearly post-orgasmic state.

Commercial ends with that and goes to some product logo, though I don't remember what.  The commercial has nothing whatsoever to do with the product, so it was probably for beer.  I thought it was clever.  The fact that women tend to prefer losers/bad guys, and ignore nice guys, despite saying how sad it is that they can't meet a nice guy while getting over the latest asshole who banged them and dumped them for a fresher tart, is becoming a cliché, but it's quite accurate, from my observations.

When I was dating actively, in college mainly, I was a nice guy who looked like a bad guy.  Therefore I got a lot of female interest, but didn't act on it that often, though when I did I was almost always successful.  But I knew a lot of "nice guys" who generally were nuts for several girls, never had the nerve to ask any of them out, and went on zero dates.  Though they'd usually eventually hook up (by accident) with some average girl they were more or less happy with.  Either that or play a lot of Everquest.  (This was actually some years before EQ, but you know what I mean.)

And yes it's a stereotype, a cliché, and a reality.  And I've talked about it before, so I'll shut up now.

I know, not much of an essay today; I just slapped in the longest news item thing on my notes page.  But it's late and I'm tired, and it's not as if I didn't go on and on and on more or less forever yesterday.  Go read it again now, if you feel the need for more Fluxery.

June 8, 2002

Forbes magazine does a yearly ranking of the top 40 cities to live in for singles.  Why?  I have no idea; my opinion of Forbes is a magazine for 40 y/o lawyers and MBAs.

Anyway, San Diego comes in 7th, and is discussed in slightly more detail here. The biggest drawback is that San Diego is the 4th most expensive city to live in of their entire survey, and that money is mostly housing costs, as I can attest.

My rent is going up another $65 starting in August, and will be $855 then, for a mid-size 1 bedroom apartment. Renting is such an incredible scam, if you can keep the tenants paying and not destroying your house with their marijuana growing operation.  A mortgage on a nice house is $1200 or less a month, and you own the place.  Rents are often $1000 or $1500 for an apartment or condo half or a third the size, and you get nothing but a roof over your head.  No long term investment of any sort, other than the one you're making for your landlord.

I should move, eh? The occupancy rate in San Diego is like 98%, they're building new and expensive apartments constantly, and I'm already living in a relatively cheap part of town.  In fact I'm not even in town, I'm in La Mesa, which is about 5 miles east of San Diego.  The median 1 bedroom in San Diego is around $1200, so I'm well under that.  Of course new, much nicer apartments are $1800 or more, which pulls up the average of ones like mine and cheaper, but if you want anything nice in San Diego, either a nice apartment or a nice location (or both, god help you) you're going to go well over $1k a month.  Meanwhile my rent is more than the mortgage on either my mom's or dad's house.  I can see how couples agonize so much over getting up a nut for the down payment; you get 3x the house for less money, and it's an investment as well.

And if you're wondering, no, I can't pay my rent year round off of the money I make at the stadium, which is my only paying job as of now.  Fortunately I'm spending my time wisely of late, playing computer games and doing overlong blogs, two activities which will obviously have long term career dividends!

More to the point though, is the ranking of San Diego as the 4th best city to be single in.  I'm not entirely sure of how the ratings are done, or what's good.  I guess the concept is best place to be single = best place to get dates?  I don't know if it's heterosexual only or not, but I'd assume so, since Forbes is pretty old-school.  There are very large homosexual areas and communities in San Diego anyway, I'd think much larger than in most of the other cities in the country, so if that were rated the city would not decline in overall score.

But anyway, so they're rating the best places to be single, in terms of the best places to meet someone, and in theory become un-single.  So shouldn't the ratings decline steadily every year?  Or do enough new single people come in each year to restock?  They probably do in San Diego actually, there is always a heavy influx of new residents here. Adding primarily to the traffic, in my observation.

I'm so totally not thinking about "meeting someone" as they say, that I can't even consider the issue. I feel sort of doomed in dating, if I ever bother to do it again.  Most of the women I see that I'm attracted to are early 20's, which I still think of myself as, though I'm not.  I look younger than 30, and I'm certainly not doing anything mature like raising a family or owning a home or having a career.  Not that those lacks are a real plus, but just to point it out.

Yet I think/assume that any 22 y/o woman I started dating would find me too old, or lacking in money, etc, and not be interested.  I tend to think of women as objective and intelligent in their mate selection, despite all evidence to the contrary (namely that about every asshole I've ever known had steady girlfriends, while most of the nice shy guys had zero dates ever), and since I'm not really missing having a girlfriend, and don't like doing the sorts of things you have to do when you have one (going out, spending money and time on unimportant things), I have no problem being single.  In the past when I was into dating, mostly when I was just out of high school and in college, I was pretty busy socially, since I met so many women around my age at work and in school.  So at times now if I feel like I should be doing more, I remember when I was and how it usually got boring in a hurry, and console myself with the thought that I could score, if I wanted to.  Damnit.

Lots of guys (losers) tell themselves the same thing, and I probably am a loser if you look at it objectively, in terms of living arrangements, (crappy apartment, though at least I don't live at home, and haven't since I was about 20) job, money, etc.  Yet on the other hand, tons of guys who have less money than me, no career prospects at all, no snappy website *cough*, are getting lots of girls.  So it boils down more to my not wanting that.  I've not made any effort to meet any women for years, and couldn't tell you the last time I knew a woman I was interested in.  Literally, years.  I've dated since then, but women I was set up with by other friends, sort of pushed into it.  And it wasn't a horrible experience, but I got bored with them quickly, since I wasn't that into them in the first place.

I had two girls with mad crushes on me during college, both of them ones that I didn't really care for that much, and it was very annoying.  So I certainly don't want to inflict that sort of puppy dog panting on some woman who doesn't really want me.  When I talk about the whole "relationship" thing with people, usually with women I'm friends with, they always encourage me to get out there, meet people, date, etc.  But these women are in long term relationships themselves, and like it.  I like being alone.

I'd be happy with a girlfriend for like a day a week.  Go out to dinner or a movie, hang out and talk, walk on the beach, have sex, etc.  That would be cool.  Then she could go do her own thing and not bother me for 5 or 6 days.  Unfortunately real life doesn't work that way.  The other person wants you to do things they want to do, not just vice versa, they'll want to spend time when you when you want to do other things, you have to spend time helping them with their problems, meeting their friends, and women always want to go out and do "things".  Concerts, dinner, movies, dancing, etc.  Spending money, wasting time, as I see it.  I'd rather eat something quick at home and get back to work.  My ideal date involves a brilliant, witty, clever woman, and sitting around my or her house, talking about things.  External stimuli isn't something I require a lot of, and in fact I frequently dislike it.  Other people are largely annoying.

This is not an attitude I've ever seen shared in a woman.

And of course I want her to be beautiful, smart, sexy, self-sufficient, have a career, in good shape, independent, etc.  Most women have lots of girl friends who you have to put up with, share her time with, parents you need to meet, they want to hang out with you to show you off to their friends like a new golden retriever.  I don't have any real life friends, other than some idiots I joke around with at work, and I like it like that.  And I certainly wouldn't inflict them on any woman I cared about.

There, I've managed to get bitter and angry at the imaginary girlfriend I don't even want.  I hope you're happy.

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