My train of thought really should be called a train wreck
I think I've written about 15 iterations of this post.
Originally, it was about how hard it can be when your girlfriends are all gorgeous, interesting, smart, funny, etc.........and you all share the same dating pool.
Then an ex-girlfriend of my friend's boyfriend posted about making friends with your ex's new flame(s).
Sorry, do I need to diagram that one for you?
Eh, you'll figure it out.
Inspired, I began writing about how funny it is Dee, one of my dearest friends, and I met almost 8 years ago when she slept with a guy I was seeing and to retaliate I slept with her guy.
And a friend and I bouncing a bartender back and forth.
Even the topic of my friend's boyfriend's ex's post is an ex-girlfriend of a guy I used to drunkenly make out with back in my late teenage years.
I should probably diagram that one out too.
Then I started thinking about all the amazing female friends I have in my life which makes me even more ridiculously excited for a Girls' Night my friend Jess is planning this weekend.
Which brings me to a voicemail my sister left me a few days ago. While she was here visiting I made her continually listen to "Call Me, Maybe" - a tune which had yet to be bombarded on every radio station where she lives.
Listen to my sister's voicemail of hate!
And I started to wonder, during Ladies' Night Out could I hit on dudes using nothing but really really really cheesy pop song lyrics?
Could I be brave enough to, "I just met you, and this is crazy, but here's my number. Call me, maybe"?
Could I develop the cojones to, "The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed"?
Could I muster up the nerve to, "If I took you home it'd be a home run"?
I don't know but I am sure going to give it one hell of a go this weekend.
I genuinely wonder how far into a song I could get before a guy realized what I was doing.
Cheaters, And Liars, And Cads! Oh my!
Thanks to my last few boyfriends I have gone from the girl who has never NOT been cheated on to the girl who has almost never NOT been cheated on.
On top of my own blunders and run ins, one of my only fully single girlfriends has been running into more inappropriate rendezvous with men who have wives, girlfriends, or "complicated situations" that I can count. I feel every phone conversation, text, or wine hang out is about how some new guy has turned her into the other woman.
Maybe the internet is to blame.
Maybe it is the constant flow of information, options, and stimuli that cause people to not be able to concentrate on one person or one relationship.
Last month I was at a post-tradeshow dinner with a bunch of people in my previous industry. A co-worker brought along a friend of theirs from Malta and we exchanged simple pleasantries. At the end of the night I grabbed what I thought were my sunglasses off the table and left.
Turns out they were my sunglasses (in brand and style) but not MY sunglasses. The next day resulted in flirty emails and texts about the return of the accidentally pilfered sunglasses.
I was even bestowed the pet name of "Magpie".
Sine I met this man and he went home we've continued our flirty correspondence with a few talks of seeing one another again if we can figure out the distance.
Until this weekend during a drunken moment at a friend's bachelor party when the man finally confessed:
And I have to wonder, how does someone risk such an important part of their life for something so fleeting. I really don't understand it.
Anyone up for the task of explaining it to me?
Racism WOW!
If you are not from San Francisco there are a few things about San Francisco neighborhoods you need to know to make this story:
1) Funny
2) Appalling
San Francisco is split into several VERY distinct districts.
If you want good Mexican food you go to the Mission where there is a large Hispanic population.
If you want to hang out with Caucasian JUNIOR VICE PRESIDENT'S wearing polo shirts and copious amounts of Aqua Velva you go to the Marina.
You want to score some crack? Tenderloin.
The whos, whys, and whats of how I met the gentleman ,who may be the most offensive person I've ever met, doesn't really matter. What is important is, despite my best judgement, one evening recently I found myself sitting across from a White-Republican-Catholic-Marina dwelling-Accountant.
Very early on in the evening we hit a lull in conversation and I broached my favorite subject - food in San Francisco.
Another San Francisco culture fact, you are judged on your "places". Where you think the best burrito is. Where you go for a good burger. Which super authentic Asian food place that will probably give you food poisoning you "rep". Every food choice, nay, conviction you make is a badge of honor around here.
Everyone has their opinions.
There are wrong answers.
Me: So where is your burger joint in the city?
Him: Barney's [a chain in the Marina and definitely a wrong answer]
Me: Oh The Tipsy Pig down the street from there does this great burger with aged cheddar. Then ask them to put a fried egg and bacon on top. Can't be beat after a 10 mile run. So where is your burrito place?
Him: Well since Chilayo [another Marina locale that isn't very good or authentic] closed I don't really have one.
Me: Well where is your Mission burrito spot?
Him: Mission....yeah....
Me: What? Don't you ever leave the Marina?
Him: Why would I? I prefer to not deal with non-white people.
Me:
I was speechless. It amazes me racism even exists but OUTRIGHT NO SHAME racism?!!??! REALLY!?!??!?
As I always love a good story, and am oddly polite in person, I didn't flip over the table, call him a bigoted jerkoff destined for hell, and storm off. Instead, I chose to continue the date to see just how truly vile this person was.
And oh boy was he.
Him: The red hair really attracted me from across the bar. It makes you stand out.
Me: Aww, thank you. I noticed you because you resemble my friend John in so many ways.
Him: Can I see a picture of him?
Me: Sure! [pulled up this Facebook photo of John]
(*John I'm an asshole for not asking first and I'll take it down if you want)
Him: Whoa. Yeah, I'm not fucking Asian.
Me:
His rants didn't end there.
He claimed gays were going to hell.
He claimed that since I lived in the Ternderloin I probably had AIDS.
He claimed that Catholicism was the only religion.
Best part?
The date ended when I sarcastically said, "well you won't have to worry about [whatever we were talking about] since all the gays are going to go to hell anyway" and he called me a homophobic bitch and stormed out of the bar.
Don't worry. He had already paid our bill!
Remember when I said I think things are funny?
Declaring so prominently in my last post the ability to laugh at life's most ironic and tragic of situations was me just asking for the universe to crap all over me.
There are 5 basic life pillars that can really screw up your mood.
1. Job/Money
Yesterday after nearly 2 years at my job I didn't make it through my company's first round of lay offs. This would have been shocking had the HR woman not accidentally forwarded me the meeting request for my lay off which was meant for my boss. As I am always a pillar of professionalism I showed up 2 hours late to my lay off meeting wearing this shirt
2. Living Situation
If you don't live in San Francisco you probably didn't hear about a tiny little incident that happened on Wednesday night. A man was being arrested/questioned for a homicide and opened fire on police.......then proceeded to light the building on fire......and fire his gun out the window.......ridiculously close to where I live. I live tweeted the whole thing and a video of mine ended up on the news.
It was, in a short understatement, scary.
3. Romantic Relationships
I met a boy. He lives far away. He decided he wanted to try to make a relationship work with someone who lives where he does. I'm gutted watching their relationship develop via Facebook but am just continuing my 6 month staying away from boys which is frequently peppered with inappropriate make out sessions with the absolute wrong people.
Business as usual for me.
4. Health
In the last year I've lost quite a bit of weight.
2 weeks ago (with a friend...nothing more interesting than that)
I had set out to run 12 half marathons this year (and use it as a writing project) but recently I've hurt my back. After an epic day of wine tasting I sat up too quickly and have been suffering with being unable to do more than lay flat on my back.
Go ahead, I assure you can't make a joke I haven't heard yet. 
Now I'm just in constant agony. 3 doctors, 2 chiropractors, and I'm finally seeing a spine specialist to get this figured out.
5. Friendships
My friendships are amazing. Awhile ago I declared social bankruptcy and decided to only focus on the friendships that enriched my life and went beyond happy hour. It keeps my calendar clear but I'm surrounded by so many amazing supportive, creative, funny, caring people I couldn't be happier. And I adopted the world's greatest best friend last year.
Except, I feel like I'm falling behind. Dee got married last year and is pregnant with their first child. Cheryl met an amazing man from another state and if things keep progressing at this pace she'll be moving out of San Francisco by the end of the year. Another friend started a new VERY interesting career, started dating a great guy, and is doing amazing things with her writing. Friends are all starting these great things and I just feel stuck.
Out of work.
Single.
In pain.
So touche, universe, the irony of declaring seeing the humor in everything and then all this going on isn't lost on me. Every bad situation is just an opportunity for a great story!
Right?
The humor.
The last post I wrote was April 25, 2011.
One year and 12 days ago.
The post was nothing more than a bit of fluff about the universe throwing me a piece of irony upon meeting a very nice boy with the last name of Kaczynski, despite my long standing aspiration of naming a daughter Theodora (after my grandmother) and calling her Teddy.
Teddy Kaczynski.
Yeah......
But the cosmos have a way of working themselves out.
I misheard the boy in the bar about his last name.
Our relationship didn't last.
But something else happened.
I got sick.
I got sick of writing.
I got sick of feeling judged about my constant missteps in dating, despite throwing myself willingly, no, enthusiastically into the “spotlight” of the internet.
I got sick of rarely seeing the humor in the great comedy of human interaction. The constant feeling of rejection. The occasional display of a complete lack of humanity. The lies I'd been fed. My own naivety.
None of it was funny anymore.
But recently things changed.
+ My seemingly dead creative spark was fanned from watching one of my favorite people on the planet strengthen her voice and passion project.
+ The spark suddenly became fully ignited when, after much supportive and loving prodding to collaborate with the aforementioned femme fatale, I became really excited about a potential project.
+ One of my all time favorite writers/bloggers/Canadians/Uncles (not mine)/Internet Friends wrote a great post about “when blogging was cool” that I loved:
“Between Livejournal and… this, there was a sweet spot. I was there. People living and people sharing. And you know why they did it?
To live. And to share.
Friendships grew organically. From internet friends to “friends” to no disclaimers.
Nothing was forced.”
+ Mr. DeWolf then asked me to contribute to a new project of his you should all check out – http://www.poopingrainbows.com. I'm on the third of each month in case you'd like to mark your calendars/google readers.
+ I fell in love, for the millionth time, with something someone I was friends with in a previous iteration of my life wrote that I’ve always admired and held true:
because in our lowest moments we rediscover the ultimate joke the universe plays on us: despite it all, we must go on. even if everyone is watching.a conspicuous failure is a great equalizer. everyone has been there.
everyone has said the dumbest thing possible at the worst time ever. everyone has tucked their skirt into their tights and left the bathroom. everyone has called someone the wrong name during an intense lights out makeout. everyone has crashed into the parked car (actually, i do that shit all the time). the best thing we can do is enjoy, take pride in our humanness. hope someone loves us for it. love someone for it.
+ I realized this was what my site has looked like for the last year or so (I "lost" all my old posts in a horrific hosting renewal blunder) and the sentiment rang a little too close to home for my taste.
+ Lastly, The only nice thing one of the most emotionally detrimental people I've ever dated said about me has been running through my head a lot lately, "When you have something to say you have an amazing way with words"
And, thus I have found the humor again.
The humor at meeting the right guy in the wrong location.
The humor in loving my new dog more than I like most humans.
The humor in me judging myself far harsher than anyone else reading my inane ramblings.
The humor in having to hand enter in all the old entries I'd like to include in my site (so please excuse the RSS freak out over the next few days).
The humor in a guy telling me on a first date he prefers not to deal with "non-white people".......
But that, my friends, is a different story for a different post.
A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.
There is this great new mid-season replacement show called Happy Endings. I love mid-season replacements because 99% of the time they are girly puff shows about overly zany dating scenarios that could never happen in a million years.
Basically, after a hard day, I don't want to watch something I have to think about.
Anyway, Penny, the character who has no luck in love that I oddly relate to after a storyline in which she set out to have a more 'stereotypical' gay best friend but after feeling overshadowed by her new bestie ran back to her old gay friend to a declaration that she was actually the offensively stereotypical gay man of the group, goes out on a perfect date and at the end finds out the guy's last name is Hitler.
Then, I recently went on a date with a guy whose last name is Kaczynski.
Told y’all they’re real and spectacular!
From: Hot Dad <hotdad@exduder.com>
To: me <amanda@dothehumptyhump.com>
Date: Mon, Mar 21, 2011 at 7:33 PM
Subject: here's an annoying story
Had a conversation with Hot Mom (sidenote: I actually met her a few weeks ago while I was wasted. She's pretty awesome) the other day and your name came up. Your boobs were mentioned and I was complimentary to their status. Fast forward to today while avoiding doing work I was looking around the internet, passed by your blog, saw your post about the surgeon and resisted the knee jerk instinct to post commentary. Am now questioning why I'm mentioning this other than to possibly validate your opinion. And delete...
- Hot Dad
Hooray for boobies?
My friend, Cheryl, and I have a standing weekly date. We go to skee-ball and then we go to "our bar". Cheryl and I were enjoying our typical routine this week when I excused myself to the bathroom. I turned from the bar and a man dressed in an ill-fitting suit approached me.
What resulted next was quite possibly the most arrogant display for male douchetasticness I have ever seen.
Guy: Hi, I don't mean to disturb you but I wanted to give you my card.
Me: -ignoring the card-
Guy: I don't want to offend you but I'm a plastic surgeon.
Me: What?
Guy: My wife, [Name], and I have been watching you and I just want you to know, I can fix your boob job.
Me: EXCUSE ME!???!
Guy: Just give me a call. -thrusts card into my hand-
Me: -throws card on ground and storms off-
MOTHER FUCKER, THEY'RE REAL AND THEY'RE SPECTACULAR!!!
I'm sick of men speculating about my boobs! Every woman in my family [insert comparison picture of my sister] has an amazing rack and I'm absolutely sick and tired of people questioning mine!! Even if they were fake - IT IS NONE OF YOUR GOD DAMN BUSINESS!!!!
What absolutely infuriated me about this entire encounter is that I couldn't figure out what he would fix.
:-/
<self_consciousness>
I officially give up my title as Miserable Dater
riend: Hey, so I had a fun....."date" that involved 2nd degree burns and a kitchen fire. I figure you queen of Dating Is Miserable would appreciate it.
me: okay so WTF happened?
Friend: Haha so we were at a party and she decided she wanted to make special brownies. Bought some off a friend of mine and then back at my place she decides she wants to start. Takes a pot from my kitchen and pours vegetable oil in, then uses a zester to grind it all down.
Friend: I go into my bedroom to browse the web, watch Commando - clearly man shit while she bakes. Talk about gender roles.
Friend: Next thing I know I hear a clatter coming from the kitchen like glass hitting each other, I figure something fell and ran in. She's standing in the corner cowering asking where my fire extinguisher is.....While the pot is flaming upwards into the vent fan. Literally.
Friend: I couldn't find my extinguisher at all, so I did the next best thing knowing what would happen, I threw water on it, which caused a splash, but I knew it would cool it down and reduce the oil thus putting out the fire. Splashed all over my chest. My shirt protected me for the most part.
me: omg you NEVER put water on an oil fire! baking soda!
Friend: Didn't have baking soda and did the next best thing to put it out
me: or a lid!
Friend: I knew what would happen.....there was no lid for the pot. I haven't had this bad of a date since that woman asked me for a coach purse within the first 5 minutes.
me: wait...WHAT? how did "buy me a coach purse" come up in casual conversation?
Friend: Ok, so I met a girl on JDate and we go to my favourite sushi place. Not cheap, but definitely worth it. I meet her outside, and we start talking.
Friend: Within the first 5 minutes, she says "so did you get me anything?". I clearly paused, and said "well all the florists were closed at this time of night, I'll get you flowers on the next date if there is one" while thinking, no way in hell there will be.
She then said "No....I mean like a coach purse".
Friend: Now I know there are some women who are smoking hot enough to demand a coach purse and get it.......this girl wasn't one of them.
Friend: I asked her if she was serious, and she said "yea".
Friend: Now I've said crude things to women that I regret in my lifetime....this wasn't one of those I regret. I insinuated that she needed to fellate me and let me glaze her like a krispy kreme in order to possibly get a Coach purse, but even then that wasn't likely. I got slapped, she walked off, I went into the restaurant and then ended up picking up the waitress that night.
me: good god
It’s a world of ironic mustaches and a world of 40 oz beers. It’s a world of tight pants and a world of bikes with fixed gears.
My friend, Rogue, sent me a link to the below video. I laughed until I practically cried. I feel like every man in San Francisco, not just Hipsters, does this. I couldn't stop laughing or watching it. Seriously, I think I watched it like 9 times on the verge of hysterical giggling tears.
Then I really did cry when I realized the woman in the video is Hot Dad's ex-wife.
Anyway, the video is really funny and you should watch it.
About
If there was a problem yo I'll solve it. Check out the hook while my DJ revolves it...or you can just e-mail me.
- You know your job search isn't going well when you propose a detailed business model for a contract killing service to your best friend
- Cheryl& I watched Jeopardy tonight. One of the categories used the word "blow" as part of the answer. Disappointed no one said job.
- Things I Forgot: I break out in stress hives and stress acne. #sexybeast
- Cheryl: Do you want a drink? Me: well only if you do......I mean, we have to relive the Laci Peterson story. Cheryl: ON IT #badmovienight
- Everyone can relax. Re: last tweet - we got the movie to load!!!!
