More of my inane ramblings
What I opted to wear on 'Super Secret Date Night' with FristName LastName tonight. I assure you there will be extensive hair touching up and make-up put on.
Last night, while I was furiously cleaning my apartment before Julie from I Life Here: SF comes over tomorrow morning, my friend Ryan came over with a bottle of whiskey (we were quickly joined by Stealthy Poo and Keane). In his drunken state Ryan commented on how he had a strong desire to yell obscenities at Hot Neighbor through my bathroom window which reminded me that I completely forgot to write about how Hot Neighbor has turned into OMGYOUAREINSANEANDIAMSCAREDOFYOU Neighbor.
About a week ago I was sitting at home and kept hearing someone talking right outside my door. I looked out my peep hole to see Hot Neighbor talking on his cell phone in the hallway outside our doors. Just as I looked he hung up his phone and attempted to enter his apartment but the door was locked. He swore very loudly, checked his pockets for keys, looked around the hall to see if anyone was watching him, and, without a moment of hesitation, PROCEEDED TO KICK IN HIS DOOR....IN ONE TRY! I am now convinced he is/was in a gang/mafia and I will end up in some kind of bad Keanu Reeves/Sandra Bullock action movie where Russian gangsters mistake my apartment for his but all ends well because as we all know 2 people can fight off the entire Russian mafia.
Yes, this is where my brain goes.
I'm hungover.
Oh and because all anyone comes here for anymore is my MS Paint drawings, here you go. (click image to enlarge)
Hapiness is anyone and anything at all that’s loved by you. – Charlie Brown
I really should apologize to my readers. Lately, I've been lacking in glorious tales of psychotic dates and embarrassing blunders as I've started taking the Keane Li approach to life. I'm not dating. I'm not not dating. I'm just not dating. I'd like to chalk it up to being extremely busy with running, friends, work, and writing (which I've actually started back up again) but a lot of it has to do with just being fed up.
There are only so many douchebags, so many annoying regrettable exes who spout hypocritical ramblings after you publicly refer to him and his girlfriend by their "super villain" names, so many bad dates, so many cases of Peter Pan syndrome, and so many instances of unrequited love one can deal with before one either starts adopting cats, referring to themselves as being a "Carrie", or genuinely not caring.
I'm allergic to cats and I always preferred Coupling as my sexual themed television show.
So yes, I've turned down 4-5 date invitations, let a budding relationship fizzle slowly into the background, and ............well:
me: I literally am starving ALL the time.
today I've had:
a banana, soy yogurt, almonds, a cliff bar, some carrots, and a turkey sandwich
STARVING
seriously ...I'm so ready to go home so I can go running then eat dinner
this is why thin women are bitchy
they're hungry all the damn time
Friend: are you preggers?
me: F*** NO
you have to have sex to be pregnant
If all my other reasons weren't enough I guess I could always just say I'm protecting my love of peanut butter.

Found at Starbelly
Keane’s: “Semantic Love” <– get it? :D
Day 1: Arthur Kade, the "Bad Boy" who really doesn't understand women.
Day 2: Kyle, the "Nice Guy" who has accepted it.
Today: Keane, the good looking "Nice Guy" who doesn't realize he's good looking or nice.
My friend Keane is everything a guy should be. He's funny, smart, sensitive, talented, an amazing friend and cute. I honestly don't know a single woman who wouldn't date Keane or who didn't have some kind of small crush on him at one point or another. He's pretty close to the perfect man......except he doesn't date. EVER. No really, EVER. In the 2 (ish) years I've known him I 've seen him have only 1 crush and go out on a grand total of 2 dates. I really don't get it.
Why I Chose Keane:
I really have no other reason for including Keane except he is amazing. Follow him on Twitter, read his blog (I highly encourage you to listen to the most recent song he posted.) , and listen to his band. Only then can you love Keane the way I do.
I watched Hitch the other night. If you haven't seen it, it's that Will Smith movie where he plays a date doctor who helps Kevin James and a bunch of other losers talk to women. I say "losers" because the film makes a deliberate attempt at caricaturing these guys as woeful in their social incompetence, as if God hath tried to smite them but didn't care to finish the job. Honestly, I think they did it so semi-awkward guys wouldn't cringe through two hours of the film any more than one would from the script alone. That wouldn't make very good theatrical entertainment for the boys of extra butter, would it? No, it wouldn't. But though the movie exaggerates (greatly), it does highlight a truth in dating - it's hard and there are no rules.
What is "game?" Technique? Confidence? Smell of lamb? Will Smith apparently had it, though it's kind of unfair as his success with women was predetermined by the plot. I wouldn't know if I had it. Not really, anyway. I'm sort of the nice guy that doesn't burden himself with thoughts on such things. (By the way, Amanda is intent on my playing the "nice guy" today.) I mean, I'm modest, a tad shy and usually pride myself on being a conscientious member of society. I've never snorted coke off a drunk hooker's bare ass and I certainly do not litter. (Storm drains empty into the ocean, you know.) But I'm in a band, I'm healthy and I can talk to cute girls without horribly messing my pants, so I'm pretty well off, I think. That is, I'm doing alright despite the fact that I don't ever date. It's, like, legendary how much I don't. And though I see the contradiction of my guest writing on a dating blog, I still think it's relevant, because I definitely spend time with women... I just don't "date."
At least I don't call it "dating." While I appreciate what it is, the notion of dating seems old-fashioned to me. I'm the type of person who tends to fall for someone I know well. When I can appreciate all the imperfections of another person as quality traits, then I know I want to be in a relationship. By this time, we've hung out so much that I wouldn't think it would be called "dating" anymore. My problem with the term "dating" is that it puts a before and after, hard definition on the relationship. While I agree it's good to make intentions perfectly clear so that both parties are operating under the same terms, the connotation and pressure of going on a "date" just makes it feel so stuffy and formal. It creates expectations. For this reason, I simply call it "hanging out." Yes, we're hanging out. It's fun, I'm getting to know you and it's true in a literal sense no matter what anyone's intentions are. Language should describe, not define. It's a gradient, really: two people, apart, then moving closer and closer until they are more together.
And as silly as the movie was, I think this underlying message of open-mindedness and freedom from convention was its true worth. It is when we learn and discover someone through a series of meaningful and authentic informalities, undefined by decorum and as limitless as life can be...
You can thank me later for the timely movie reference.
I guess I got married.
I just received this message in my Yelp inbox.
I just wanted to say you and your husband look great together. I'm always intrigued by the white and asian relationships that turn out good.
It was in response to this picture of me and my friend Keane I have posted on my yelp profile with a caption reading "I want to have faux babies with my faux husband".
faux
–adjective artificial or imitation; fake: a brooch with faux pearls.




