Love in the Time of Nasal Irrigation

It had all the makings of a great romance: near-disaster, redemption, and a connection that was more than skin-deep...

I and three colleagues were struggling to get the speakers working for an event which was to begin in just minutes. Lucky for us, a professional sound crew was within dragging distance, and drag we did. Our rescuer was a rough-around-the-edges cutie in all black (on the short side, but with humor and attitude to make up for it) who worked fast while bemoaning his terrible allergies and mincing no words about our shoddy equipment. He got us ship-shape in no time and, as you can imagine, I thought it was a great chance to make a new friend.

My coworkers dispersed to greet arriving guests, and I did what any clever and flirtatious gal would. After some extraneous thanks and a small bit of wiggling to the music now blasting from the speakers, I went in for the kill.

"Have you ever used the Neti Pot?"

(I'll take a moment to let the sheer brilliance of that one sink in.)

Yes, friends, it's true. It was quite the opening line. I'ma let you ponder how things turned out...

image: http://paxarcana.wordpress.com

Namaste!

Happy Anniversary, Dad & Liz!

I honor of my dad and stepmother's 17th anniversary, a transcript of a voicemail from him that I have saved from a couple years ago. For obvious reasons, it simple cannot be deleted:

"It seems... it occurs to me... that a good place for dating opportunities might be, like, the local theatre, y'know? That's where I met Elizabeth, doing a local production of Bertolt Brecht's* [sees a friend] -- Hi, Stan -- The Madwoman of Chaillot. For what it's worth...

image: TheAge.edu. From an Australian production, of which the reviewer opines,
"This production disappoints on so many levels it's difficult to know where to begin."
Sigh, no one said theatre was easy.  I guess it's a risky business... just like love!   

[msg cont...] But, if you really want my real recommendation, if you wanna meet nice young men... the Kingdom Hall, the local Kingdom Hall. But, that'd be the one situation where you'd have to qualify by [chuckle] getting baptized, and having goals that were in line with their goals. So, the best would be the Kingdom Hall, but then, second to that, more available, would be the local theatre -- maybe. I don't know. Just let me know whether you think these are good suggestions... or whether you want any suggestions [deep chuckle]. Anyway, I love you. It was fun to talk to you the other day. Bye-bye."


* This is a word-for-word transcription. The play is by Jean Giraudoux. Let's not split hairs.

The Being Picked-Up Artists

image: foundmagazine.com

Check out Disfunctional Bachelor, my adopted male counterpart on Pacific Standard Time, posting on that sport-of-all-sports, The Pickup.

Once you've peeked, you'll know why I say I AM TRYING THIS TECHNIQUE ASAP!!! 


Love,
Blondie

...And they lived happily ever after...

Happy Anniversary to my sweet big brother, Rick, and his lovely bride of 14 years, Jennifer.

http://usemetoday.com/relationships/first-love/

Met: In college. I imagine the institution has since revised its policy for male squatters visitors in female dorms.
Courtship: He sat behind her in class, dropping candy into the hood of her sweatshirt.
Famous Early Date: McDonald's. Rick invited, then realized he had $1 in his pocket. Jen treated.
He Puts Up With: Being the subject of embarrassingly lovey-dovey poetry (coming soon!).
She Puts Up With: 10 years in a home under varying degrees of construction. (Who needs a bathroom sink when you can brush your teeth in the shower?)
Where Are They Now? Three strong, beautiful, Tae Kwon Do-medal-winning children and a respectable pet rotation in a big red house with a stunning view of the valley in her Western Montana hometown, blessedly near where the buffalo roam. She's still writing and he's still home-improving.
My Anniversary Wish: May the sun shine long and warm on this family. May the snow melt by July. May the bear tracks be fresh (but not too fresh!). May this devoted pair continue make each other laugh out loud, almost 20 years after "he won her with a burrito."

XOXO, 
Blondie

The Very Long Goodbye

Remember when I mentioned the power of the "Take Care?" Well, my friends, I have seen it in action!

image: http://ma-nouvelle-vie-en-france.blogspot.com

I went on two dates with C____, then spent the next week convincing him that our relationship had run its course. I told him so in person, and he asked me to reconsider. I did, but the next day I confirmed via text, that it wasn't in the cards for us, best of luck, take care!" That's when the real fun began.


First, he texted. Then, he left a voicemail message.  I ignored these and awoke to a rather ominous text, inviting himself over that morning. Like, yikes! Again, silence from me until, mid-morning, he emailed.

I bit. I called to clear up any confusion, and I thought we were square. Later, this spacemail gem: "Having any regrets yet? I've been in bed all these last three days, eating containers of chocolate Haagen-Dazs." 

image: uweekly.com

Again, silence from Blondie, who figures this will have to run its course fairly soon. It did, but not until I'd received roses at work from "An Admirer." Holy Persistance, Batman! 

As of this writing, the lovestruck Romeo has found a different streetlight to wait under. May he go in peace. And may I have learned the lesson of "Take Care!"

PS: Dude has a PhD. Serves me right.

Beware the "Take Care!"

I can't believe I'm only just learning that "Take Care," is useless as a brush-off. How did I miss this crucial intell?



I tossed off the phrase recently, via text, intending to convey a cheerful au revoir. A friend hooted -- "You gave him the TC?! Watch out, Babe!" Turns out, it's like wiggling your tush and calling "catch me if you can!" Sho'nuff, the chase was ON after that. (Watch this page for details.)


Note to self: "Take care" is a verbal wave of the cloak to the charging bull. Use sparingly, lest ye risk being romantically gored by an undauntable, unsuitable suitor. Ole!

I'll Take Mine With Cheese - An Update

After lunch with a pal today, I dragged her into (heh-hem) a certain family-owned gourmetery. Sadly, there was no middle-child on duty on this fine afternoon. His mother recognized me, we bantered, and my friend was happy to pick up some Swiss. (Did you know some Swiss cheese has no holes? The things you learn while stalking Y chromes. We went traditional.) 

In other news, my mom is highly amused: "The Cheese Guy in the Dairy Drama - perfect match for the lactose intolerant.  Keep up the research!!" (Um, did I mention cow's milk makes me queasy?) 

Lastly, confirmation that girlfriends are the best friends: a local chum, wisely sussing out exactly who I'm shopping for, writes, "Let me know if you ever want a wingwoman to go say hi to B----. ;-)" 

I just may take her up on that offer -- that is, until this becomes too rich for my purse. We are, after all, talking high-class curds and whey! 

Cheesey Romantic Daydream

I marched into a little family-owned specialty shop recently on a mission to quickly collect something fabulous, then escort a friend to her wedding shower. Reading this, she'll realize why I was late! I had not anticipated encountering an adorable Man Behind the Counter. Mr. Cheese, the younger of two sons working in the family business, was very helpful in putting together an assortment of items, and even threw in a free chutney, "because it's your first time in the store." Also, he didn't even correct me when I, unthinking, leaned over the glass partition meant to keep customer-germs at bay. I think this proves he liked me.

At first, I thought this was a "Quickie's" product, which is not at all what the Blondie seeks at the moment. But, look again! "Mature" is good, right? And, I'm actually a fairly "traditional" lass. Could this be a sign?

I got as silly as I always do when I've spotted someone adorable. With classical music playing, I was completely unable to prevent myself from flitting all over the store, feeling a very tiny bit like a ballerina.Fortunately, the place was mostly empty and le mignon Monsieur Fromage was busy choosing, cutting, wrapping, and (as a special service!) labeling his choices for me.

*Precisely* my demon-possessed stare when I've got a gent in my sights!
http://grilledcheesesandwich.org/grilled-cheese-sandwich-history

Early Google stalking reveals the prey to be a handful of years younger than yours truly, but since perhaps he like his ladies like his cheddar...aged? I did go back a couple days later, to thank him and remind him of how irresistible I am. My timing was terrible and the joint was packed, but I did notice him make an awkward attempt at conversation. The more awkward, the better, in my opinion, since it seems to prove sincerity. I can't afford to pop by too often (visit #2 cost me $15!), nor am I inclined to make a complete ninny of myself, but I think one more time will have to be the charm. Dairy dating drama details TBA!

Where Not to Meet a Man, v.3

At the E.R. I tried! Sort of. 

One could make the case for a LURV emergency, 

but I'm not sure that would fly...

Of course, I didn't stroll in on a hunch that I'd find some edible, medical, man-candy. It was a legitimately urgent situation (all's well now, fyi), that just happened to lend itself (in my sleep-deprived, pain-deranged state, anyway), to a potential dating situation. I can't claim it was romantic, per se, and I definitely regretted not having brushed my teeth at 1:15am before making my feeble way to the Emergency Room. Still, the doc on call was pretty cute, in a semi-gruff, halfway-through-my-nightshift kind of way. 

http://newsinfo.iu.edu/web/page/normal/5895.html

Alas, my thank you note went unanswered. My acupuncturist says there's no way in heck a doc would follow up on something like that. I protested that I'd heard otherwise from an E.R. nurse friend, but I guess the results speak for themselves. Still, I'm not giving up. I have an appointment at that very same hospital next month. This time, I'll brush my teeth first, juuust in case. 

Note: No explicit or implicit promise of the "services" a gentleman-loving-blondie
might seek. Was that accidentally left of the sign? 

PhD: Pretty Heady Date

I live in Boston. The place is crawling with Doctors of Philosophy. I really like being around smart people, but, I confess, I've avoided dating any of this breed until recently, mistrusting professional studiers (and, I admit, fearing an invitation for ramen noodles or, eek!, dinner in the graduate dining hall). Mostly, of course, I just wondered whether I would have anything in common with a human who can live on reading, writing, and grading for eight straight years.

"Piled Higher and Deeper" by Jorge Cham ~ www.phdcomics.com

Two recent experiences have confirmed my suspicions. Not about dinner! That was just lovely, thanks. But, busts of Ceasar, Socratic arguments, and all mentions of Plato need to wait until you've stopped counting date numbers. Call me intellectually incurious, but if I'm going to be lectured at and struggle to maintain my "interested" face, I want to know there's a diploma, not just a makeout, waiting for me at the end.

PS: PHD ("Piled Higher and Deeper") Comics is pretty funny stuff!

Where Not to Meet a Man, v.2

Pic: http://agqiri.blogspot.com

...At your Shakespeare read-aloud group...

Where Not to Meet a Man, v.1

... At your women's-college-alumnae Book Club.