Dating is tricky. Sometimes people seem like the perfect candidate on paper, but in reality they are far from what you're looking for. I recently was reminded of this when someone asked me out for coffee. The little I knew about him from his Facebook page indicated he was an interesting and intelligent person with many common interests. I agreed to a coffee date and in the meantime we exchanged a few emails and instant message conversations.
As the coffee date approached, he IM'd me to make more definite plans. In the course of that conversation, the whole thing fell apart. I faithfully recreate the conversation below for your pleasure/horror.
Coffee Guy: There's some sort of chemical smell in my apartment. I'll be right back. Gonna go check this out.
Me: Ok
....
Coffee Guy: I'm back. The idiot mexicans working upstairs on the flooring had put chemicals down and left the AC on in the entire building. I switched it off.
Me: ummm...do you often use phrases like "idiot mexicans"?
Coffee Guy: well I can't call them chinese
Me: what if they're guatemalan? or el salvadorean? what does their nationality have to do with it?
Coffee Guy: they're all beaners to me
Me: please tell me you're joking
Coffee Guy: nope
Me: ah. well in that case, I'm going to have to cancel our plans for coffee. have a nice day
And people wonder why I'm still single...
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
How I joined the Art Car Parade, and other tales
Yesterday, Houston held its infamous art car parade with a huge turnout of people. A friend and I had plans to meet up with some other folks at a nearby restaurant and then walk to the parade. We were driving around the area, looking for a place to park near the restaurant. Unfortunately, we were running late and every spot for blocks was already taken.
My friend suggested I turn down a street in a little neighborhood and see if there was a spot along the curb. Everything was full and we kept driving, only to drive around a corner and end up dead ending straight into the parade! There was literally nowhere to go except forward! Tnhe street wasn't blocked off at all, so I nosed out into the street, where art cars were lined up in waiting and throngs of people were roaming the street. We were literally caught up in the crowd.
We couldn't go more than about 5mph because so many people were walking around and in front of my car. My friend was gripping the door handle and anxiously motioning people to move out of the way as we nudged forward.
We were stuck in the parade for about a block and then finally came to a cross street where we were able to turn off and ask the police officers to let us pass back through the barricade.
The officers looked at me and laughed and said "all right...come on through."
All I could think of the whole time was that I hoped I wouldn't run anyone over...and I wished my car was decorated. :)
My friend suggested I turn down a street in a little neighborhood and see if there was a spot along the curb. Everything was full and we kept driving, only to drive around a corner and end up dead ending straight into the parade! There was literally nowhere to go except forward! Tnhe street wasn't blocked off at all, so I nosed out into the street, where art cars were lined up in waiting and throngs of people were roaming the street. We were literally caught up in the crowd.
We couldn't go more than about 5mph because so many people were walking around and in front of my car. My friend was gripping the door handle and anxiously motioning people to move out of the way as we nudged forward.
We were stuck in the parade for about a block and then finally came to a cross street where we were able to turn off and ask the police officers to let us pass back through the barricade.
The officers looked at me and laughed and said "all right...come on through."
All I could think of the whole time was that I hoped I wouldn't run anyone over...and I wished my car was decorated. :)
Friday, May 06, 2011
Getting to know the neighbors
Last night I walked into my backyard to water my garden when I was startled by the sound of someone greeting me. I looked up and saw my neighbor, on his balcony, looking down at me and smiling. And I swear at first glance I thought he was naked.
I quickly looked away and mumbled a greeting in response while I snuck a second glance (come on, people...just to verify that my eyes were tricking me...not out of any prurient interest). Fortunately, he was NOT naked. He was shirtless and was wearing some light khaki shorts that were close in color to his skin which is what gave me the impression of nudity. But it was too late for normal conversation at that point. I had already given off the "weirded out" vibe and he quickly retreated back into his house.
I then laughed to myself because I recalled that just two nights before, I was out watering the backyard quite late in the evening (after dark)...wearing my yoga pants and a t-shirt and, I shamefully confess, NOT wearing any supportive undergarments of the female variety. And the same neighbor walked by on his way out of the house and stopped to chat for a moment. I gave him a pained smile as I crossed my arms over my chest. Again, he got the "weirded out" vibe from me because I was all kinds of self-conscious.
So at this point he probably thinks I'm either really awkward or really weird or maybe both.
Clearly, there's a life lesson in this story somewhere.
I quickly looked away and mumbled a greeting in response while I snuck a second glance (come on, people...just to verify that my eyes were tricking me...not out of any prurient interest). Fortunately, he was NOT naked. He was shirtless and was wearing some light khaki shorts that were close in color to his skin which is what gave me the impression of nudity. But it was too late for normal conversation at that point. I had already given off the "weirded out" vibe and he quickly retreated back into his house.
I then laughed to myself because I recalled that just two nights before, I was out watering the backyard quite late in the evening (after dark)...wearing my yoga pants and a t-shirt and, I shamefully confess, NOT wearing any supportive undergarments of the female variety. And the same neighbor walked by on his way out of the house and stopped to chat for a moment. I gave him a pained smile as I crossed my arms over my chest. Again, he got the "weirded out" vibe from me because I was all kinds of self-conscious.
So at this point he probably thinks I'm either really awkward or really weird or maybe both.
Clearly, there's a life lesson in this story somewhere.
Thursday, May 05, 2011
My So-Called (Thought) Life
Do you ever stop and think about how many thoughts you have that are all about you? My thoughts are filled with myself. On any given day at any given moment I am probably thinking about myself. Thinking about how this affects me or how that looks on me or what you think of me or whether you ever do think of me or what I'm going to eat for ___(breakfast, lunch, dinner, elevensies, afternoon snack etc.. ad nauseum) or what I'm not going to eat because I shouldn't but I really want to or how my coworkers annoy me or how my family annoys me or how church people annoy me or how housework annoys me or how the neighbors dog yapping in the middle of the night annoys me or why my skin is more dry than it used to be or why I don't have much energy lately or whether I'll ever get married or whether I'll ever go on a date again or whether I'll ever hear the words "I love you" or when I'll have time to get my car washed or when I can take a vacation or how I never thought my life would end up like this but it's not ALL bad.
I'm sick of myself.
I'm sick of myself.
Tuesday, May 03, 2011
Viva la Revolucion!
This past Sunday, as I was exiting the church parking lot, I drove past a friend of mine who rolled down her window and asked where I was going and if I wanted to get dinner with her.
So we made spontaneous plans and headed over to a coffee chop/cafe in the heart of town for a light supper on the patio.
As we sat there chatting and waiting for our food, I began to look around and noticed that the other folks on the patio looked...well...different than we looked. Or perhaps I should say that my friend and I looked different from everyone else. I pointed this out to my friend, under my breath, saying "umm have you noticed that we don't quite...belong?"
We were surrounded by people who looked at first glance like hippies. But on closer inspection they were more like a subset of hippies...a sect, if you will. Several of them were wearing t-shirts with the word "Revolution" printed on the front. Then they started setting up a table with pamphlets and books on it, followed by a microphone and sound system.
Next thing we knew, they were singing. It turns out they were Communists. They were out celebrating May Day, which is the traditional day to celebrate the contributions of the working man (we were informed). They tried to get us to join in as they sang their version of an anthem (complete with arms raised in solidarity). They sang all the verses of the song, first in English, then in Spanish and then in Farsi.
They talked about the people's revolution and played some Spanish and Iranian music videos. Mostly they just talked amongst themselves.
My takeaway was this: If being a Communist means never fixing my hair and having to look like an earth-mother, I'll pass.
So we made spontaneous plans and headed over to a coffee chop/cafe in the heart of town for a light supper on the patio.
As we sat there chatting and waiting for our food, I began to look around and noticed that the other folks on the patio looked...well...different than we looked. Or perhaps I should say that my friend and I looked different from everyone else. I pointed this out to my friend, under my breath, saying "umm have you noticed that we don't quite...belong?"
We were surrounded by people who looked at first glance like hippies. But on closer inspection they were more like a subset of hippies...a sect, if you will. Several of them were wearing t-shirts with the word "Revolution" printed on the front. Then they started setting up a table with pamphlets and books on it, followed by a microphone and sound system.
Next thing we knew, they were singing. It turns out they were Communists. They were out celebrating May Day, which is the traditional day to celebrate the contributions of the working man (we were informed). They tried to get us to join in as they sang their version of an anthem (complete with arms raised in solidarity). They sang all the verses of the song, first in English, then in Spanish and then in Farsi.
They talked about the people's revolution and played some Spanish and Iranian music videos. Mostly they just talked amongst themselves.
My takeaway was this: If being a Communist means never fixing my hair and having to look like an earth-mother, I'll pass.
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