Lookin’ for love in all the wrong places… (part 1)

Dating has always been a foreign concept to me. It has never felt normal or natural. I always had crushes on friends and was lucky (or unlucky) enough to turn a couple of those friend crushes into relationships. But I’ve been single for quite a long time now. And I’m thinking that maybe I don’t want to be anymore.

People keep saying that I need to “put myself out there” in order to find someone. Well, dating is “putting myself out there” and I hate dating. So where does one find a date in this day and age? Apparently online. So yes, I’ve turned to the world of online dating. After much stubbornness (duh, it’s me we’re talking about here), I signed up for one of the free sites (which will remain nameless for now – though some of you already know which one). Apparently it’s a major hook up site, but more on that later.

I figured this would be a good way to flex the dating muscle, so to speak. Go out on dates and figure out what I like and what I don’t like. Through this medium I can conduct searches with my exact specifications and see what (or rather who) comes up. Which I’ve found actually makes me way pickier than I should be. But it’s good to be able to search for the things I know for sure I don’t want (guys who want kids, guys who have cats, guys who don’t like dogs, etc.).

The problem is that I really don’t know what I’m looking for. Do I want to get married? I know I don’t want kids… not sure how I feel about marriage.  I have no idea. I do know that sometimes I hear a song that makes me want to hold someone’s hand. Or I’ll see a couple on a bench in the park and it’s like they’re the only two people in the world… having that wouldn’t suck.

So I’m out there… and so far it’s been a little frustrating… but I’m still making the effort. Sometimes I have to force myself to go out with people I wouldn’t otherwise be interested in (again, trying to figure out what I want also means finding out what I don’t want). Usually I get a drink (or even a meal – BONUS) out of it. Sometimes I get less than that. A lot less.

Anyway, I could seriously create a whole blog just on my experiences with this site… but I don’t have quite enough material for it yet… and knowing me, the second I start the other blog, I’d meet the man of my dreams and have to stop (ok, so that’s probably a bonus for the separate blog). SO, I’ll just post the stories here… after all this blog is about me and my life… and dating is a part of that. Just a warning though… some stories are NOT safe for some audiences. I’ll try to give a head’s up, but yeah… adult themes will be present. Stay tuned for my adventures in frog kissing…

Photo credit: www.stylemagazine.com
Blog title song: “Lookin’ for Love” by Johnny Lee

She works hard for the money…

Despite what my previous post may have you thinking, I am not going out every night. I spend most of my time doing the job hustle thing. After my very brief stint at Columbia showed me that the financial risk of graduate school was not worth the reward, I have devoted my days looking for work. Any work. All work.

I have a handful of things going right now… I’m on an odd jobs site called Done.com (cleaning houses, tutoring, childcare, etc.), I’ve been working with the CEO of a company called Roommate Happy Hour doing administrative stuff (including a couple of blogs for his site), I’m temping (easiest money of life), and still seeking more permanent employment by going on interviews and junk.

I am networking like a fiend… volunteering, playing softball, going to UCLA alumni events, telling EVERYONE I meet that I’m seeking a job… I’ve never had to work so hard to find work. But hopefully it will pay off soon. It better… or I’m going to have to start selling my underwear online to perverts.

Blog title song: “She Works Hard for the Money” by Donna Summer

Tonight… we are young…

There’s this trend going around with the young’uns… #YOLO… translated for the old folk that’s “You Only Live Once.” It’s the “Carpe Diem” of today. My Facebook newsfeed is filled with pictures of college kids going on random road trips or to parties with this hashtag in the caption. At first I thought that this was a really good way to rationalize making bad decisions. But then I think of how I have spent a lot of years NOT living… and maybe there is something to this YOLO…

I crave adventure. It’s really easy for me to get stuck in a rut and routine. But I like doing new and different things (hence the uprooting and relocation to a city 3000 miles away from everything safe). I thrive in situations where my comfort zone is compromised. In the last couple of weeks I have stayed out all night more than once. I didn’t always make the best decisions and more than once I ended up so hungover that I was completely useless for the subsequent 24 hours.But I’ve met new people, been to new places… I’ve broken the routine.

I get easily caught up in the moment. It doesn’t take much for me to agree to go along with something (relax, Mom, I mean this within reason – I would never do something I don’t WANT to do). It’s exciting – just going with the flow. I could say no and go home, but then I wouldn’t get to sing karaoke (if you’ve spent any amount of time with me, you know what happens to me when you put a mic in my hand) until it’s light outside and walk to the subway to go home while everyone else is going to work. Or I wouldn’t meet new and interesting people from different places who tell me about why they have their name tattooed on their forearm (and I thought my “Q” was bad) or that they are wearing a $1500 jacket (why would you tell a stranger that??) or that they are a freelance photographer for international editions of Vogue.

I’m not planning on making this a habit… my recovery time after staying out all night is not quite what it once was (and eventually I will have a “normal” job and will need to sleep during “normal” hours). But I don’t plan on making any night typical. And really, this city is anything but typical. I want as many new and different experiences as I can get. Isn’t this why I came here?

 

Photo credit: someecards.com
Blog title song: “We Are Young” by Fun.

We’ll take a cup of kindness yet…

Right, so it’s New Year’s Eve and apparently this is the day I’m supposed to reflect on all that has happened in 2011 and look forward to 2012. However, I’m not really going to spend much time on either.

2011 was an eventful year… and most of it was not so good. I will leave it at that. I’d like to say that it was a better year than 2010, and it was in many regards, but as has been the case for the last few years, I’m bidding this year good riddance.

As my pessimism has grown with my age, I’m not going to throw a bunch of hopes and dreams into 2012. Now wait… this isn’t going to be this “woe is me” rant. I’m just not going to set myself up by saying, “This is THE year!” Whatever that means. I don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions. I feel like it’s a lame excuse to make a change in your life. If you need to change or improve it shouldn’t take the changing of the year to do it.

All of that being said, I kind of resolved to make some changes in my life when I decided to move to the east coast. I have wanted change for so long, I guess it would be foolish if I didn’t really take advantage of being in a new place. I’ve never been comfortable in a “comfort zone” so I love that I’m able to challenge myself in a new city.

I guess if I HAVE to have a resolution, it would be to continue to challenge myself. I want to seek out new opportunities and try new things and meet new people. I just want to embrace the change and be open to anything that comes my way. So if you want to call that a New Year’s resolution, so be it. I will call it coincidental timing.

 

Photo credit: ideachampions.com
Blog title song: “Auld Lang Syne”

My little town blues, they are melting away…

Boy, Frank nailed it right on the head with this song.

I’ve been here for about 3 weeks now and I fall more in love each day. Things are far from perfect and I am a long way from making the MTA my bitch, but I love it. Perhaps it is the fact that I come from Orange County, land of stagnation, or perhaps it is because the energy here is palpable… but I’m smitten.

I’m not a huge Radio City fan, but the picture is kinda cool.

My life in Orange County was dreadfully boring. I lived alone and there were stretches of days where I didn’t speak to another human being (I say human being because I had many conversations with my furry soulmate, Walter). Everything was the same… day in and day out. Same people, same houses, same restaurants. And though I may be paranoid in saying so, it felt that because I was unmarried and childless there was no place for me. I was excluded from social gatherings and made to feel much older than I am because I was not on the breeding route. Again, could be a paranoid thought… but when things start happening more than once, you can’t help but see patterns.

But anyway… New York wasn’t always on my radar. I didn’t have dreams of coming to the big city to “make it.” I just knew I wanted to get the hell out of the OC and NYC just kind of happened. But I’m glad it did. I’m truly in awe every day. I walk around and can’t believe I’m here. Apparently I’m supposed to play it cool like it’s not a big deal, but I can hardly contain my excitement sometimes. Every corner feels new… there’s so much to see and explore. And seeing as how I’m still without work, I have time to wander. I’ve gone to a few touristy places and covered my favorite for Broke-Ass Stuart.

I said before that the energy is palpable. And it’s true. There’s so much life here. So many different kinds of people. So many things to see and do. And though I haven’t been on the receiving end yet, opportunity is everywhere. NYC has a history of being a place to come and work hard and see your dreams come true and now I feel like I can be one of those people. I feel like a complete cliche and I friggin love it.

So, finally, I am proud to say that I have officially traded my oranges for apples. (Ah, now it all makes sense, right?) I’m starting fresh and full of motivation and ready for more fiber. Get it? Fiber? Big Apple? You got it.

 

Photo credit: Craig Smith
Blog title song: “New York, New York” by Frank Sinatra

And that’s the way we get by…

I recently read an article on BrokeAssStuart.com (for which I am also a contributor) about the unrealistic portrayals of young people living in New York City. From 2 Broke Girls “struggling” in their gigantic apartment in Brooklyn (with room enough for a HORSE to live off the kitchen) to the ridiculous apartment shared by Rachel (a waitress) and Monica (a sometimes chef) in the West Village on Friends (look at that humongous living room, will you??).

                                                                         

These shows are spreading a very dangerous (and infuriating) message to those who are actually attempting to thrive in NYC (or any city for that matter). As an avid Friends watcher in the 90s, I have to say that I thought living in NYC looked pretty easy. And when Sex and the City came along, Carrie Bradshaw made journalism look glamorous (and lines of credit look never ending).

The “hustling” lifestyle is a quaint and common motif used in TV and movies (awww, look at that poor hapless supermodel look-alike who has a shitty job and can’t find a boyfriend even though James Marsden keeps trying to charm her pants off… but lives in a 3000 square foot loft – spare me). But with new shows like 2 Broke Girls and even Happy Endings and New Girl (seriously LOVE these 2 shows) there’s a great opportunity to show the financial woes of the 99% while still making us laugh. While there doesn’t seem to be any sign of student loan debt or low credit scores for the Chicagoans on Happy Endings, the 4 roommies (yes, 4) on New Girl seem like a better sampling of late 20/early 30 somethings (a teacher, a bartender, a marketing assistant, a personal trainer… and no clear indication if there are loftier goals ahead).

Now, I realize for the purposes of entertainment (and studio size) that television shows can’t show the harsh reality of real life real estate and the pathetic job market. Come on, that would be depressing… we watch TV for an escape. It’s just pretty annoying that television (really just sitcoms) can’t make an attempt to show more financial accuracy… instead TV perpetuates the myth that city living isn’t so bad as long as you have a few good pals to meet you at the bar downstairs (ooh, forgot about How I Met Your Mother- I don’t care how Ted met the mother of his kids… I want to know HOW in the hell Robin pays rent and can still afford to have the cutest flipping raincoat ever). And I suppose this is true to some extent… but you get my point… friends don’t pay the bills – they just make you feel better when you can’t!

As for me, I no longer believe the lies my TV told me. I’m still looking out for that dream job (or any job at this point) and I’m thrilled to have a teeny tiny piece of NYC to myself… for $800 a month…

(Yes, that is my new bedroom. To some of you it may look tiny – you have been brainwashed by the aforementioned television shows – but compared to other rooms I’ve seen in the city it is massive… and it has a closet.) 

A job will come along soon… and so will a guy – though I won’t delude myself into thinking he will look like James Marsden… oh, but wouldn’t that be nice…

 

Photo credits: lovelyundergrad.com, adamecker.com, and me… with my iPhone
Blog title song: “The Way We Get By” by Spoon

The youth is starting to change…

Fabulous news… I finally got an apartment in NYC! I move in the first weekend of December and I’m ridiculously excited… obviously. Phase one – complete.

While in town to finalize the details on the apartment, I met up with a young friend of mine who shall remain nameless. This young man has been living in the city for a while and truly lives that “hustle” lifestyle- waiting tables, auditioning… trying to “make it.” However, lately he’s had a more difficult go and is contemplating heading back home.

I was shocked when he said this. At the tender age of 21, he’s already defeated? Total bullshit. And as our conversation continued, we were coming up with more stories of people in their super early 20s who tried making it here for a very short time and gave up. Bullshit again.

Youth is truly wasted on the young. What I wouldn’t give to have 10 years back and do what I’m doing with the innocence and freshness of a 22 year old. But that’s when I realized something. That’s the huge difference… the innocence. Not that I led a crazy life in my 20s, but I went through a bunch of shit… I learned a lot… I struggled (I still do)… I persisted. These young’ns don’t have the benefit of experience. They are faced with challenges and do not have the experience to guide them through. (And by saying this, I am aware that the generation ahead of me is giving me a big old DUH… but care not I… this is MY observation).

I really don’t blame the kiddies though… When I was in my early 20s, I didn’t have the balls to do something completely different like move across the country from everything familiar to me and pursue a dream/career/life. I imagine that if had managed to leave Southern California when I was 21-22, I wouldn’t have lasted long. So I guess I get it.

And don’t get me wrong… my intent is not to offend those in their 20s, nor am I claiming that I know everything. But I did realize that perhaps for once, my life experiences are paying off. I am feeling more comfortable at my age. I’ve found the balls I need to do this (shut it) and every minute I spend in that city, I’m renewed and encouraged and I can’t wait to see what’s going to come at me next.

 

Blog title song: “The Youth” by MGMT

Can it be that it was all so simple then?

I’ve been obsessed with history recently. I take the Metro North train from Connecticut to NYC as often as I can and along the tracks there a ton of little towns with abandoned train stations and other factories and buildings. I find myself thinking about what they used to be like when they were new. What kinds of people lived in these areas? Who worked at the factories? Who frequented the stations? Commuters to the city? When did these structures fall out of repair? And why?

And then there’s this website. It’s one thing to look at random old photos or see old buildings, but there’s a personal element involved here. It’s easy to forget that your parents had lives before they had you. It makes me think of this picture I once saw of my maternal grandparents (I wish I had it so I could include it here… but I don’t). They look like they are in their 20s, maybe 30s (and it was probably sometime in the 1930s). They are dressed to the nines, linked arm in arm, and walking down the street with big open grins on their faces. They look awesome and I feel pretty awesome knowing I’m related to them. Looking at that picture makes me wish I had known them better… or at least knew where they were headed looking so fancy.

This personal history fascination reached a peak last weekend when I attended my grandmother’s funeral in Auburn, NY – my father’s hometown. I don’t know much about my dad’s childhood but here I was… in the place where it all went down. These were the streets my dad walked as a kid. This was the restaurant he worked at. This is the high school he went to. This is his history.

After the funeral, we went to the family restaurant and this is when we heard some great stories about the “old days”… the phone pole built behind the restaurant to get reception for Yankees games… the nuns who looked the other way when kids would sneak into the back lot to get fed by the ladies at the restaurant… my uncle getting caught hiding beer in his gym bag… my dad getting scolded for leaving change on top of the cash register when the restaurant was busy (“I didn’t hear the cha-ching”). I could have listened to these stories all night.

My curiosity was, indeed, piqued… but I was a bit sad. Obviously I can’t go back in time and see these things. I just wish I didn’t start hearing these stories now… I guess sometimes you need to be in the place of nostalgia in order for the nostalgic stories to flow.

The buildings, the photos, the stories… it all makes me feel so small in this world… in a good way. It’s a solid reminder that this world is a massive place.  Every corner has a story. Every person has a past. So… I want to seek out these stories… I want to go to amazing places and find the amazing in ordinary places. I want to walk down the street with a big open grin on my face. I want to make my own fascinating history.

 

Photo credits: me… all me… with my iPhone… I think I used the Hipstamatic app
Blog title song: “The Way We Were” by Barbra Streisand

Thirty-two’s still a goddamn number…

I’m 32. I’m not ashamed to admit that now. Maybe it was because I recently worked with teenagers, but turning 30 felt really OLD. However, I think that uprooting my life a couple of months ago has helped me come to grips with my age.. and not just coming to grips, but accepting it… and possibly even celebrating it. Ok, maybe not yet…

I’ve always had a hang up about age. I think it’s because I’m the youngest of four. Though they didn’t realize it, my older siblings provided me with age benchmarks… as I reached certain ages, I would compare myself to where they were at that particular age. And I always felt behind somehow. My brother is 11 years older than me…. when he was 18, he seemed ANCIENT to me… like he was a grown-up or something.  When I reached 18, I still felt like a child.

So that’s how I spent my 20s… comparing myself to others… and questioning myself. Is this what 23 should be? (Because it sucks). Is this how I should look at 26? How much should I be dating? Do I dress like an adult? Am I an adult?? I looked around a peers who were married and having kids. And even though I didn’t necessarily want those things, I wondered why I didn’t have them (yes, I’m aware of the crazy there). I lived on my own, took care of myself, paid my bills… but I couldn’t help but feel that I was behind somehow.

As I prepared to move to a new city and start over with a new career (that has yet to be determined), the comparisons began again. Generally, other people my age are well-established in careers and have moved up the proverbial ladder… and though I have been employed since the age of 21, I’m still looking at jobs that require a few years of industry specific experience. It’s like I’m back at the starting line when I should be a few hurdles ahead.

However… I’m feeling less and less like I’ve gotten a late start on things. I’ve been able to visit NYC twice since my OC exit and I’ve had this overwhelming and relieving feeling that I’m on the right path. I think the magic of NYC is opportunity… potential… possibility. I have the chance to make my life the way I always imagined it… who cares how old I am? (Incidentally, on my last visit to the city, a waiter thought I looked no older than 24… so suck it, 32).

SO I’m jobless, homeless (at least in NYC), single… and 32. And that’s ok. I’ll probably still compare myself to others… but I’ll make a conscious effort not to. What’s the point? I’m doing all of this for me… not my peers, or anyone else for that matter. This is my reinvention.

At least I don’t look 32… whatever that means.

 

Blog title song: “Oedipus” by Regina Spektor

We’re fated to pretend…

Foreword (yes, this post also gets a foreword): my life is lagging at the moment… no phone calls from prospective employers, no chance of moving without some form of income… so I don’t have any excitement to write about – which is kind of the whole point of this blog. But, I want to keep writing and not let this thing lapse… so I am writing about one thing that brings joy to my day… The Sims Social. Yeah… seriously. 

“Developed by Electronic Arts, The Sims is a video game where you do all the things you would do in real life if you weren’t playing a video game. You create a human character, and it exists. That’s it.[...] The Sims is an escapist vehicle for people who want to escape to where they already are, which is why I thought this game was made precisely for me.” -Chuck Klosterman, Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manifesto

I will try not to sound too much like Chuck Klosterman with this post, but I have a new time sucking obsession and I need to find some way to rationalize it… or at least talk about it. Yes… I have succumbed to the power of The Sims Social on Facebook. Reluctant as I was to start (like many, I was terribly annoyed with the FarmVille craze of 2009 and refused to take part), it has become the highlight of my days and the topic of many discussions with my sister and brother-in-law (with whom I live… and attracted me to this addiction in the first place). Now remember, I am jobless and without transportation in an unfamiliar town.

As Chuck indicates, there isn’t much to it. You create a character and do stupid everyday things – eat, stay hygienic, pee, watch TV. However, unlike Chuck, I am not escaping to where I already am (yes, I do eat, stay hygienic, pee and watch TV). I’m creating an alternate universe where I am successful, rich and good at everything I do. Wow, that is really pathetic…

Like any good escapist vehicle, this one takes you out of the everyday by putting you in an alternate everyday… an easier everyday… an everyday where you don’t have to work too hard to have whatever you want/need. It only takes mere hours to earn enough Simoleons (Sim currency) to expand a home and fill said home with items such as a flat panel TV and an elephant topiary (yeah, I have my eyes on that next).

The actions of my Sim (who I have named Lisa Loeb because her default appearance strongly resembled the bespectacled songstress) revolve primarily around completing skills such as cooking/catering, painting, composing music and writing. The goal, or at least MY goal, is to keep getting to a higher skill level. Though I can’t help to think what will happen when I reach the highest possible levels on each of these skills… (yes, still pathetic).

The added element to this version of the decade old life-simulation game is that it is “live” on Facebook. I had assumed (incorrectly) that this was just another means to interact with FB friends. However, the function of FB friends (“neighbors” in the game) is to increase social interaction- one of the necessities to keep your Sim happy-  and to get items required for different skills and tasks.

This is also where things can get interesting… and confusing. As my brother-in-law pointed out last night, these interactions are likely very appealing to the passive-aggressive player. Upon encountering your neighbors you have the opportunity for different types of interactions – friendly, mean or romantic. And the interactions will escalate from there resulting in those essential social points and skill/task related items. SO, since certain actions are required for different tasks, it is really easy to take out all of your frustration on someone by implying that their mother is a llama (an actual possibility) and just blaming it on the game. I don’t really think your mother is a llama… it’s just because I needed a Fury for a task. Oh, and you are really pissing me off (as is your mother, apparently).

The confusing part of the social interactions comes when you are in need of Love (the item, not the form of affection), which is something you can only get from romantic interactions with other Sims. You get one default neighbor when you sign up – the rest are your FB friends. Considering the only other neighbors my Sim had when I started were my brother-in-law and sister, things got… weird. Bella, the default neighbor, isn’t always giving with the Love and my Sim, for the sake of the game, had to flirt with the Sims of my sister and brother-in-law. Creepy.

HOWEVER, if you’re following the whole point of this post, I am not my Sim. I did not create her in my image and her house is not my dream house. I am not a piano virtuoso or brilliant chef. It is all just a GAME. And I’m not trying to wax philosophical and examine the sociological and psychological impacts of such a game – nor do I want to. It’s just not that worth reading into – just like any good escapist vehicle. Like I said before, I’m just trying to rationalize the attraction. Not really sure that I did that here… but it was kinda fun to think about.

So if you happen to be my friend on Facebook and see that I have posted something from the Sims that asks you to help me out… give me a break and click it. I (and Lisa) really appreciate it.

Photo credit: me… screen cap
Blog title song: “Time to Pretend” by MGMT