Actually said while shopping with the girlfriend...

Girlfriend: "Excuse me, but where are your dresses?"

Clerk: "Women's dresses?"

Me: "You sell men's dresses?"

Watching your girlfriend laugh hilariously while a clerk embarrassedly explains that there are also "misses" and "teen" dresses... Priceless.


Oh, the things a little Jewish guilt can do...

Talk about a "thank you"! Imagine my surprise at this little nugget from my fine blogging friend, Neil, at Citizen of the Month:

Whoo-hoo! My moment of internet fame!!! Well, internet fame that doesn't involve a phishing scheme. And all it took was a little Jewish guilt...

14:59 left...


Cross One (or More) Off The List...

I received a thank you email from Neil this week, thanking me for his birthday gift. Yeah, Neil's good like that. (Although he still hasn't made me his blog crush of the day yet. Don't make me pull out the Jewish guilt Neil...)

But what stood out to me was this line: "You haven't posted much this month. I hope it is for good reasons and not bad..."

He's right. While I've been a relatively common commenter, I really haven't written here in quite a while.

And it's time I told you why.

Really, there are two reasons.

The first is I finally got a long-awaited transfer at work. In light of the first rule of blogging (and you have no idea how hard it has been not to break that rule), to paraphrase Forrest Gump, that's all I'm going to say about that.

But it's the other reason that I'm going to tell you about. And I have to admit, this is the reason I've kept hidden from you for a little while.

About a month and a half ago, I--with some trepidation--went on a blind date. I had been on a series of bad dates over the past few months, so I really wasn't expecting anything.

I could never have been more wrong.

My friend, S___, called me and told me that I needed to call this girl that she knew. After some minor arm twisting, I called her and left a message.

It was your standard first call message. Nothing too involved. Just a little joke about her outgoing message followed by "S___ suggested I give you a call. Call me back when you get a chance."

The next day she did. And the conversation flowed like a river.

After an hour, I finally said, "So, would you like to get drinks on Friday?" She accepted and we made plans. Nothing involved. Nothing committing. Nothing intimidating. Just a meet and greet. An opportunity to see if we found one another attractive and could keep the flow at the next level.

And did we ever.

When she walked in that Friday, I was amazed. Gorgeous blond locks. Skin beautiful as porcelain. A smile that lit up the entire place.

And those eyes. Those amazing blue eyes. She looked at me and those pools of clear blue water were simply mesmerizing.

The time flew.

My friends and I scheduled dinner later that night for the post-date wrap-up, but pulling myself away from her was clearly going to be a challenge. Our face-to-face conversation was just as amazing as our pre-date conversation. I really didn't want to leave.

And there was the fact that she nursed the same beer for two hours.

But alas, I had plans. And I learned that the first date really shouldn't be more than two hours. The hard way. A few weeks prior. Like I said, a series of bad dates...

So, I left, drunk on this woman of such amazing potential.

When I met my friends for dinner that night, I immediately got the question: "So, how was it?" The only words I could muster in response were, "She's incredible." And then my cautious nature stepped in and I added, "But let's see what happens on the second date."


I strategically called her the next Monday. Valentine's Day was Wednesday and I didn't want to get too close to that with someone I had just met, I was leaving town at the end of the next week, and I didn't want her to think I didn't have anything to do on the weekend. Just enough time to create anticipation, but not enough to forget about me.

Yeah. I'm a planner. Unfortunately, there were a series of events that put a wrinkle into the plans, but hey...I'm an adapter too.

This time I caught her at home. We had the obligatory small chat and then I broke out with it: "Listen, I had a really good time with you on Friday, but here's the deal. I'm getting sick [I was...it was awful], my car's in the shop [it was...it was expensive], and I'm leaving town in the middle of this week for the entire weekend [I did...it was unbreakable]. But I really would like to get together again. Is it okay if we do something next week?"

"Sure," she said, "that sounds great."

"Fantastic," I reply, "I'll give you a call next week."

And then, even though this conversation could have ended there, it didn't. Once again we talked for another hour and a half.

Like I said. Flowed like a river.

On Valentine's Day, despite my friends protestations to send flowers (friends, mind you, who don't have normal relationships...so not exactly people I look too for dating advice), I sent her a text. Something small to let her know I was thinking about her on Valentine's Day, but something that minimized the day. And, as you know, I'm not a fan of Hallmark-dictated romance anyway.

She responded in kind. It expressed interest, but wasn't overbearing, sweet, but not desperate, funny, but didn't look like she was trying. Yep. It was the perfect email.

That next Sunday, I was on my drive back from my trip and I called her up.

"Hey there!"

"Hi!," she exclaimed, clearly happy to hear from me.

Once again we started with the obligatory small talk, but then I moved in.

"Look, I know we talked about getting together this week. Are you busy Wednesday?"

"No, I think Wednesday will work for me."

"Great," I said. "You may remember I mentioned I have tickets to that traveling Vegas show. Well, that's on Wednesday. And I can't think of anyone I'd rather take than you."

She accepted. To tell you something about this lady, when I mentioned I was a little tired as I was driving, she stayed on the phone with me, keeping me talking for two hours, so that I would be awake. She told me later that she enjoyed the conversation, but that's the kind of thoughtfulness that's just her.

To make an already long story shorter, it was an enchanting second date. There was flowers (note that they were at an appropriate time), hand holding, laughing, and a little polite kiss goodnight. All in all, it was storybook.

And since that night, things have developed fabulously.


I've always wondered if something was wrong with me. My female friends (of which there are many) often say, "Guys are like parking spaces. All the good ones are taken or handicapped." And having been terminally single, I just figured I was a "special" space. As in, permit special.

Over the past month and a half, I realized how wrong I was. I discovered I have things to offer, that someone can think of me with the same admiration, amazement, longing and sweetness with which I think of them. I've discovered I can have that romantic connection I see between so many of my friends. The comfort. The thinking in unison. The desire to spend every moment of every day with that person. The sense that, even when you've only been apart for hours, you feel as though you're reunited when you see that person again.

I've discovered that I too am entitled to a good-night kiss.

And I've learned all of this because of the most beautiful, sweet, angelic, amazing woman I've ever met.

I've gotten to enjoy so many things about her. How she's both an amazing woman and a little girl at the same time. How she thinks of me with small things, just to let me know she cares. How she and I both reach for one another's hand whenever we're within five feet of one another. How when I wink at her, she tries to wink back and even though she can't wink, the result is both hilarious and sexy at the same time. How she laughs with her whole body. How she gazes at me when I look at her. How she enjoys spending time, just on a swing. How we just "fit."

So, yeah. I haven't been writing for a good reason indeed.

It's because that list I posted yesterday has changed.

Item 48.

I've had a second. And I've had a first that's loved me back.


100 Things About Me...a retrospective

A while back, I put together a list of 100 things about myself for my friend Julia. Then, I didn't quite feel comfortable sharing that list publicly. But I recently revisited the list and decided that, in retrospect, I would like to share it with you wonderful folks.

Of course, some of the list has changed...but we'll save that for the next post.

Without further adieu...

1. I've never ridden horseback.
2. I love aviation, but never wanted to be a pilot.
3. I'm very protective of my personal space (e.g. I
have seriously threatened friends to jab them with a
fork for touching food on my plate before I finish
4. I do not like to be touched...
5. ...except by the right people.
6. When I can't decide, I just buy both.
7. I buy my groceries in pairs.
8. Wholesale is brilliant!
9. I value no attribute higher than honesty...
10. ...other than loyalty.
11. I am deceptively shy.
12. I can't relinquish the remote.
13. I like when people offer decorating suggestions.
14. I hate when people offer "personal improvement"
15. I can't stand when someone asks me to smell
something they know smells bad.
16. I love being by water, but hate to swim.
17. I believe that fairness and justice are more than
just words.
18. I have an extraordinarily short tolerance for
19. I firmly believe that whoever invented little
drink umbrellas was brilliant.
20. I believe that you do catch more flies with
honey than with vinegar, but that doesn't mean that
sometimes drowning the fly with vinegar isn't the best
21. Of all the Friends, I'm most like Chandler.
22. I can dish it out like a champ, and can take
it...most of the time.
23. I am not at all homophobic, but want to tear the
throat out of people that say that they think I'm gay.
24. I don't drink caffeine.
25. I did well in school, but think anyone that says
I'm anything but an overachiever is full of crap.
26. I think it's a complement when people say they
thought I was older after speaking to me.
27. I think it's a complement when people say they
thought I was younger before speaking to me.
28. I like to make people smile.
29. My favorite song lyrics are the ones that give me
goose pimples when I hear them.
30. I fear the day that I'm not able to talk to my
parents every week.
31. I'm scared of not meeting my own expectations.
32. I hate the word "disappointed."
33. I believe in picking my battles.
34. I've spent years trying to beat people I hate.
35. I spent 12 years being in the limelight, but
really prefer to make other people successful from
behind the scenes.
36. I love dining out.
37. I am 110% pro-Israel.
38. I applied for jobs with the FBI and CIA.
39. I see politics as little more than entertainment,
but never stop hoping it becomes a way for people to
come together.
40. I'm a chocolate addict (like, really, I go
through withdrawal!).
41. I love food that you have to work to eat.
42. I hate to cook, except breakfast.
43. My favorite word is "perseverance."
44. My favorite instrument is the violin.
45. I used to sing for audiences.
46. Now, I only sing for myself.
47. I never told my first love how I felt about her.
48. I never had a second.
49. I don't like most children.
50. I'm afraid I won't be a good parent to my own.
51. I can shuffle poker chips.
52. I am a dead ringer for Kermit the Frog...not the
new voice (that guy sucks), the Jim Henson voice that
I grew up with.
53. I can twirl a pen like a beauty queen can twirl a
54. Although I have faith in people, I'm disturbingly
quick to write them off.
55. I refuse to be made a fool...
56. ...sometimes to a fault.
57. I don't think I'm good at what I do, and
sometimes wonder if I missed my calling.
58. I know, all to well, the meaning of the word
59. ...and "depression."
60. I know the lyrics to every Billy Joel song...
61. ...and every line of Casablanca...
62. ...and every episode of the West Wing.
63. I'm a hopeless romantic.
64. I regret not serving in the military.
65. Or having learned how to play a musical
66. I LOVE getting e-mail...
67. ...almost as much as I love getting a handwritten
note from someone who just wanted to let me know that
they were thinking about me.
68. I've never thought I had anything to offer a
69. I have a disturbingly good memory.
70. I hold grudges.
71. I NEVER lecture someone after they apologize;
apologies are hard enough.
72. I've concluded I can't save the world...
73. ...but I can help.
74. I wish I were better at finishing things.
75. I kick ass at turning a phrase.
76. I hate chain letters (where the hell do those
things start anyway?!?).
77. I think someone else is married to my bride.
78. I love dogs, but am afraid to own one.
79. I don't wear jewelry.
80. I'm not comfortable with my body.
81. I love primary colors.
82. I have a love-hate relationship with the gym.
83. I almost never sleep late...
84. ...and hate waking up alone.
85. I make a rockin' omelet.
86. I let people underestimate me, and then relish
proving them wrong.
87. I love to win...
88. ...and will only let someone I really care about
beat me.
89. I can lie to people I care about...
90. ...but never do.
91. I'm exceedingly punctual.
92. And have little tolerance for people that aren't
on time.
93. I hate feet...
94. ...and love eyes.
95. I will go to war for people I love...
96. ...but rarely do so for myself.
97. I believe that those who benefit most have the
most to repay.
98. I will give without the expectation of something
in return.
99. I don't think of myself as an adult...
100. ...and hope I never will.


Please welcome our special guest...

Last week, I spoke with Alecia about one of her dating experiences. The only words I can use to describe the story are "blog worthy." However, Alecia's fabulous blog theme-based, E-letters, didn't quite lend itself to a complete appreciation of the story. So, in order to get the full effect, I told her that I would be honored if she guest blogged at this little corner of the internet. And, without further adeu, I turn this post over to the fantastic Alecia with an e:

I’ve recently been released into the wild. Vulnerable, and innocent I’ve been thrust into this vast expanse where I’m easy prey for single, available, stupid men. Well, not that easy, let’s not get crazy here. I said they were stupid, not me. I’ll admit, my dating education is sparse. I lack the knowledge of a good date. Then again, I’ve never been treated to a good date. I’ve never actually dated until now. Serious relationships? You got a problem, come to me. I have life issues down pat. But “the dance” as my good friend likes to call it, is beyond me. The games, the manipulation, the toying, the sales pitch, and then the cliff hanger... what? Are we individual marketing firms or are we human beings? I’m not up for it. Leave me out of it. I’ll invest in a dog and a Santa size bag of sex toys. Thank you. What has led me to this weary decision? Date #4.

We’ll call him T. We were given phone numbers through mutual friends, which then led to a couple weeks of calling daily and messaging. We knew what each other looked liked, our conversations were pretty good, I knew a lot about him by the time the date was set up. Or so I thought.

The original plan was for him to come over for a couple hours and just hang out, possibly a movie, though movies are never good for a first date. (Please refrain from comments like, “Why would you have him over to your house on the first date?” I’ve already been lectured about that multiple times by multiple people. Nuff said.) However, that didn’t happen. He instead asked me if I would go to his house so he could cook me dinner. I wasn’t really up for that, and quite honestly, already annoyed with him. Changing plans before we’ve even had the first date cannot be a good sign. But, what did I do? I went. Yes. I went. And I was starving. I didn’t get there until around 9 or so and really thought he’d have dinner pretty much set. Nay. He had just started it, we didn’t eat until around 10 pm. Lame.

While he’s cooking I’m learning things about him. Examples you beg? Okay... let’s start.

First, he’s not that great of a conversationalist, I’m a talker...try to keep up with me. I’m wandering around and my eyes are taking in the site of his apartment. I’m thinking, not to be a materialistic wench but you’re a physical therapist why are you living in a frat house? And a frat house it was. As my eyes fell upon Playboy magazines and cut-outs of naked girls taped to the side of his fridge. Cut-outs. Yes you read correctly so no need to go back and figure those words out twice. He said he was 31 but that’s still out for debate. He laughed at things that weren’t funny and didn’t laugh at things that were. However, all this was just mildly amusing to me at this point.

I walked over to his movie collection. He had an entire row dedicated to Tom Cruise. You heard me. So I look back and say to him, “Oh, I see I have some competition.” Blank stare. Okay...moving on.

Dinner is ready and served to me in a small, shallow bowl. Chicken and rice. Let’s just say that by the time I got home I wanted to eat my face off because I was still hungry. He starts cleaning up from the meal that he considered a glorious creation simply because he used basil. Good job. High five.

As he’s cleaning I notice this bi-fold screen trying to hide a table. I’m like, “T...what’s going on here?”

“Yeah I try to hide that from everyone.”

“Well you’re not hiding it from me.” I poke my face around and what to my wandering eyes should appear?

From end to end is a village built of Legos. I’m speechless. Almost. I think I said, “Why?”

“Well it was all at my mother’s house and she wanted it out.”

“Yeah I can understand why.” I then turn around and with a raised brow expression say,


He then says to me...straight faced, completely serious, “Yeah...it’s a pretty amazing spread.”

In fear that I was going to completely bust a gut in this guy’s face I had to quickly turn around so he couldn’t see my face. I then just looked up at this ceiling for a bit and he goes, ‘What?”

“Oh, I was just looking for the glow in the dark stick on stars.” He didn’t think that was funny either.

The date did not improve. He wanted to watch a movie and I mistakenly let him pick it out. He managed to pick out the worst movie ever made. “Super Troopers’... what? That’s not a date movie. Ever. At least for me. However I thought that since it was a date he would at least sit next to me on the couch and perhaps we could talk whilst watching. WRONG. He sat in the designated guy chair and didn’t pay any attention to me for a solid 2 hours or so. Except for when he’d look at me and say a line of the movie right before the character did. For real? Stop it. I know. I still can’t believe it.

The movie ended and he looked at me and goes, “Okay.” like... "Okay, get the hell out.” So I’m like, “Okay.” Gather my things and head out.

“I’ll call you tomorrow.” Really? Please don’t.


“Text me when you get home so I know you get in okay.”

“Okay.” Fair enough. I can do that.

I drive the 25 minutes back home and let him know that I’m safe and sound. Meanwhile I’m still in my car. As I’m walking into my apartment all I can think about is the fact that I do not want him to call me the next day. So I send him another text:

“Yeah I gotta say, I don’t think this dating thing is going to work out for you and me.”

He writes back:

“I’d have to say I agree.”

Aaahhahaha. I’ve not heard from him since.

Worst. date. ever.

I immediately called my host here and spewed this story to him. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him laugh so hard. In the aftermath, this story has become entertainment fodder for many so I thought I should at least write about it. Thanks to BA for letting me share it on his blog.

~Alecia (with an E)

No Alecia, thank YOU...