Blissed Connections March 9, 2008

In a brief moment of revelation this morning, I discovered that one of my boobs is slightly bigger than the other. Now I’m not talking about a freakish distinction that might earn me a permanent exhibit at the Ripley’s Believe It Or Not museum, but given the number of times lately that my goodies have been out on display, you’d think I might have noticed something. Whoops, did I just say that? *Evil Grin* Now this bit of mammary awareness really has nothing to do with anything, except that it got me into a “things that make you go ‘hmmm'” kind of mood — one of those situations where you closely observe something and notice things that you’ve never seen before. This sometimes leads to confusion, often times to delight, and more often than not, a fair mixture of the two. Ahhh, but I’m getting ahead of myself! So allow me to back that train up a stop or two, for speaking of revelatory experiences, these last few weeks have been chock full of them!

My first slice of wild happenstance occurred when I felt a curious desire to visit the “Missed Connections” section of Craig’s List. Now, back in my less “elitist” online dating days (hehe), I used CL a time or two for meeting potential dates and actually managed to wrangle my first post-4YG relationship. But it had been a good year and a half since I ventured into the murky depths of CL ads, and upon spying the link in my “Monkeys!!!” bookmark folder, I decided to give it a look. By the way, that folder actually does exist (exclamation points all intact) and I typically use it to store websites that I only visit under the most dire, boredom-induced circumstances. Why I attribute boredom to monkeys is just one of life’s mysteries …

So there I was, clicking through ridiculously vague postings (sample: “I saw u at circle K. U r hot. Hit me up sumtime baby!”) Once my voyeuristic curiosities were fulfilled, I began wondering if there was anyone locally who I might like to find, and right away I thought of him — the charming guy who threw me a flower at my favorite grocery last summer, whom I spent several minutes flirting with and never saw again. I knew his name and what he looked like, but little else. Was there any possibility?

I wrote a little ad with distinct information (where/when we’d met, what he looked like, his name) and some more subtle clues, and posted it. And to be honest, I forgot all about it until midway through the following day, when I received an email saying “I know who you’re looking for! Here’s his MySpace!” Surprised, but expecting a scam of some kind, I followed the breadcrumb … And there he was. After 8 months and only one meeting. It was Gino.

He was a little bit older than I’d expected, but his photographs showed that same warm smile and flirty eyes that charmed me the first time. A friend (presumably the one who wrote to me) had left him a comment pointing out my CL post, so I knew it was too late to be shy or change my mind. So I wrote him a note: “Hey stranger, I’m the mystery girl who wrote about you on Craig’s List. Do you remember me?” He responded within hours, and said how touched he was that someone whom he’d spoken to only briefly had remembered him after all this time. He confessed that he wasn’t sure initially who I was, but he wanted to know more about me. Our brief succession of emails led to a four hour phone conversation, an indecently long first date, and and intense flux of emotions between us that began suggesting that this was all “meant to be” …

And then we came to our senses. Halle-freakin’-llujah!

Because you know me, dear readers. Ever since busting up my pseudo-engagement with Broody last summer (whom I also have news about — stay tuned!), I have been happily, if curiously, anti-relationship in the traditional sense of the world. I call it “free spirited”, although Bean recently pointed out that he’s always equated that phrase with one who sleeps around, which was somewhat troubling, though humorous! In my eyes, “free spirited” is a more hippie-esque way of describing the desire to not be tied down, to play the field, to have fun, to live in the moment. Apparently this is a condition more readily observed in women of the college-aged variety, whereas my stoic sisters in their late-20’s and beyond are meant to be settling into their childbearing years with an urgency and desperation that intensifies with each passing birthday. Charming, right? I apologize deeply to all and sundry for not finding that scenario to be tremendously appealing. ;-)

So whether I’m worldly and wise, or my old fashioned settlin’ down tendencies just haven’t kicked in, who knows. What I do know is that my mischievous Gemini tendencies love to get all passionate and intense about something (or someone) very quickly … But if the temperature under that pot isn’t carefully watched to prevent an over-boil, I burn out far too quickly and move on to the next challenge. Thankfully Gino has some of the same qualities, and following our multi-day lusting spree, we realized that we needed to really dial down the intensity and kind of start over from scratch if we had any hope of transitioning into a “normal” courtship. So we began anew, one of our first distinctions being that we weren’t exclusively dating, and that hanging out maybe once a week was good to start. Which suited my free-spirit just fine when the next unexpected wave of “connections” began unfurling … But that’s a new story for another post. *Grin* It’s good to be back!

♥ BittenChick

2008 BC February 5, 2008

“Back once again for the renegade master!”

Riiiiight. ;-)

Before we begin this edition of “where in bloody hell has BC been?”, I’d like to wish everyone a happy new year, a month overdue! Things have been cray-zay up in here, but I’ll try to get to all of the highlights. When last I wrote, I had just gone out on a date with Dutch, things were entering Sketchville with Dwandy, and Ozzy was … Ozzy. The events that unfolded after my last entry went a little something like this:

Got into a relationship with Dutch, which meant going back to friends-only status with Dwandy and Ozzy. The eH and Match profiles were canceled and everything was on the up and up … Until about two weeks shy of Christmas when things were decidedly beginning to cool off with Dutch. I proposed taking a “break” over the holidays.

A series of lackluster texts in early January confirmed that Dutch and I were over. Ozzy proposed going on a date, thus tentatively beginning a relationship that lasted about three weeks … During which my feelings towards Ozzy weren’t advancing past the “affectionate friends” stage, at which point I told him we had to abandon all attempts at dating and really go back to being friends. At this point, he tells me that he’s fallen in love with me. Code Red!

After about a week of not being in touch, I called Ozzy and he says he’s “facing reality” and moving on. I commence crossing my fingers … And then last night Dwandy takes me out for Thai food, talks about “Thai-ing” me up (and other groan-worthy puns!), and decides that he might just be ready for us to “date” after all, which I don’t recall suggesting or agreeing to.

Have I mentioned that it’s been a crazy year thus far? ;-)

Now let me backtrack a little. I’ve barely mentioned Dutch on this blog, and perhaps that should have been my first indicator that something was amiss. By all accounts he’s a cool guy — good looking, good interests, good sense of humor, good chemistry, good sex (ahem) … But “good” is only good — a lackluster version of great, wonderful, fantastic, amazing, etc. There was no reason not to like Dutch, but not much of an impulse to fall in love either. And this was pretty much mutual when I brought it up — a phone call that was initiated by what I’ll call the “turning point” in our relationship. File this under “Guys, Don’t Do This”:

Dutch and I had plans to meet up after his company’s Christmas dinner (yes, it was a “significant others are welcome” affair that I was not invited to, and I was actually relieved by this fact). The party was supposed to end by 8pm and was being held at a restaurant less than five miles from my place, so Dutch was going to come by right afterward. But by the time that 9:30pm rolled around and I hadn’t heard from him, I decided to take a page straight from Sherry Argov’s book and make other plans. What’s that, you say? I should have been patiently and placidly sitting idle by the phone all night? Oh helllllll no. Things run late sometimes, I completely understand. But there’s no excuse for not sneaking away for a minute and sending me a “really sorry, running late, try tomorrow?” text. So I made other plans, and not 15 minutes later … Well, it went a little something like this:

Dutch (text): Sorry for the delay, should be done in about 10 minutes or so.
BittenChick (text): Waited till 9:30 but ended up making other plans. Hope the party was good times.
Dutch (voicemail, 10 minutes later): Hey, I’m leaving now but I got your text so I guess you’re busy. I’ll call you tomorrow. Good night.

Tomorrow ended up being three days from his message, so that should tell you something. When we finally did chat he apologized repeatedly for not getting in touch sooner, but we ended up not seeing each-other again before the “let’s take a break” chat that happened a few days later. Relationships, especially in their infancy stages, can be tricky when it comes to obligations you have towards each-other. But I firmly believe that there has to be a mutual respect there, and it’s always obvious when it’s missing. And to be honest, it was nice not having to deal with the awkwardness that usually accompanies “Our First Holiday!” — an occasion that I always seem to overcompensate for (with good intentions, but I never know how much to spend, how many gifts are appropriate, etc). So out went Dutch and in swooped Ozzy, and against my better judgment I gave our relationship a second (third? fourth?) go-round.

But dear, sweet, innocent Ozzy unequivocally refuses to “play the game” — the game being the psychological dance that keeps things intriguing. Whereas I was looking for a spicy tango, he was two-stepping all up in my business, even dropping the “marriage” and “love” bombs as casually as one would order from a menu. I know, I know … There’s not enough thread in the free world to weave a red flag big enough! In the meantime, Dwandy had been on the fringes in the flag-free Friends Zone, but he’s very wise to “the game” and we didn’t have much contact following our bowling-night shenanigans until January rolled around. He had also eschewed eHarmony but not for a relationship — turns out he’d become a fan of freebie site OKCupid and had landed himself a college-aged honey who lives an hour away and likes to talk about what her future babies will look like. Why he tells me these things, I have no idea — he knows it will all be used as fodder for my immense amusement! He’d been giving Miss BabyMomma the slip and was looking for a night of, ah, mental stimulation — so we decided to meet up. And while I appreciated how appealing I must have looked in light of the alternative, I’m pretty well convinced that Dwandy and I are meant to be flirty friends at best.

And that brings me to now — the Great Dateless Wonder, and damn happy about it! I might give eHarmony another go in the next month or two, but I’m no hurry. In the meantime, Scott of the excellent eHarmony Cracked blog has asked me if I’d like to provide some female commentary for his upcoming posts, so look for my “pearls of wisdom” (ha!) sometime soon!

Cheers,
BittenChick ♥

Bowling For Concubines November 11, 2007

Holy moly hoo-ha! This has been one crazy mamajama of a week. I met a fantastic new eHarmony guy, which aided and abetted in Dwandy’s pecking order tumble (oh, he helped too!) Rico got his “benefits” and Don Juan got me drunk. Ozzy and I had The Talk … Again. Oh, and Spader texted me this gem: “what would u say if i said i wanted to kiss ur breasts?” — which nearly caused me to run off the road in laughter. Good times, good times. ;-)

So I’ll begin with Dwandy and I rockin’ the bowling alley the other night. Now perhaps I’m just mental (very likely!) but every time I go bowling, the song “Score Tonight” from Grease 2 plays over and over in my head like a mantra. If you’re not familiar with it, it’s the tune that the T-Birds and Pink Ladies sing whilst shaking their asses around their local bowling alley. And as you can imagine, the lyrics are knee-deep in sexual innuendo. Sample lyric:

we’re gonna rock, we’re gonna roll
we’re gonna bop, we’re gonna bowl
we’re gonna score, score, score, score, scoooooooore
TONIGHT!

I know … Why it was never a Barry White classic is beyond me. ;-)

Despite the ridiculous soundtrack, I happen to love bowling, although my skillz are poor enough that getting in the triple digits is cause for a victory dance. I had assumed that Dwandy was a fan as well, but as we got to the alley he muttered something about being tired and having no energy. Mind you, this bowling shindig was his idea — so once again, a difficult ‘tude was destined to be on the menu.

I’ll spare you the gory details of my bowling pin shrapnel (non-existent), but it was nearly over before it began, with Dwandy copping out after two quick games. He hemmed and hawed about wanting to get something to eat, but we finally just ended up at my place, at which time I sat him on the couch and declared those four dirty words that no one ever likes to hear:

“We need to talk.”

In times past, I might have put up with someone’s cranky demeanor, making excuses and assuming it was something that I was doing wrong. But life is short, baby! I don’t have time to sort out someone else’s melodrama, so it was time to put my finger on the pulse of the issue and then rip into that vein like a vampire with some serious blood lust …

Aww yeah!

“I’ve been picking up some mixed signals the last few times we’ve hung out, so what’s the happs with that?” I asked. “If you don’t want to ‘date’ anymore, just get it out in the open. I’m not going to go all arsonist on your apartment or bring the Chuck Norris on your ass. So why the sketchiness?”

Dwandy sighed. “I’m not very good at this and my experience is limited, as you know. I guess I’m just trying to pull back because I don’t want things to go too fast. I’m more of a slow and methodical type. I like to research things and take my time. If I’m going to buy a DVD player, I read the reviews and compare prices and try to find the best one that’s out there.”

I snickered. “Dude, I am like the Blu-Ray High Def Monster DVD Playa of your dreams! How can you resist?”

Success! Dwandy finally cracked a smile.

“Listen,” I continued. “I like your way of thinking, but you’ve mentioned before that you only date one person at a time.” He nodded. “So how can you figure out how you feel if you don’t have anything to compare and contrast with? That would be like wandering into Best Buy and all the shelves are filled with one brand and model of DVD player. You might think that it has to be the best because it’s the only one on the shelf, but maybe the selection at CompUSA would blow your mind!”

He laughed. “I don’t think CompUSA sells DVD players …”

“Not the point!” I playfully punched his shoulder. “Anyway, I think you should try meeting some other eHarmony chicks. See who else is out there before you make up your mind. And in the meantime, let’s keep dating — but be the guy you were in the beginning! You know I’m not picking out baby names or diamond rings just yet.” I laughed as Dwandy shuddered. “And if I may get cheesy for a moment, perhaps this will end up being a funny story we tell the grandkids someday!”

“You are so lame,” he snorted.

And then I killed him.

Oh alright, I took him home with all of his man parts intact and we have tentative plans for this Wednesday. I want to give this guy a chance because he appeals to that spicy part of my personality that likes a good challenge. (Ozzy could learn a few things from this one!) But games are only fun to play if you can forsee a chance at victory. It’s a delicate balance … If a bowling lane had no gutters, you could chuck that ball with wild abandon and expect to at least knock over a few pins. And likewise, if the pins were bolted to the floor, not even Chuck Norris could bring the smackdown!

By the way, I have no idea why I’m so fascinated with the Chuckster lately. Must be that bloody writer’s strike in Hollywood. Hey, I support them wholeheartedly, but no more new Office episodes? (Heart attack pending.) Suddenly those re-runs of Walker, Texas Ranger are looking strangely appealing … ;-)

Weird Science November 4, 2007

So I’m a little OCD about my cell phone, I have to admit. It’s a beat up pink Sanyo with a bent antenna and a wonky camera and its lack of T9-word intelligence drives me fucking! mental! … But I just love that wee chunk o’ plastic and circuitry! While I may not treat the phone itself with the most delicate hand, I have great reverence for the data that passes through it, which is why I’m constantly clearing my call history, deleting my sent/received texts, and pruning my contact list. These seem to be pretty foreign practices for most of my friends, but I guess I have a bit of paranoia about my phone being stolen by some miscreant who might use my cheeky texts and evidence of late night phone calls against me. Let’s just say that I probably shouldn’t kiss my mama with the same mouth that’s spoken some choice words through that particular speaker. And we won’t even talk about the naughtiness my fingers have been up to …

Typing fingers, ya pervs! ;-)

And thus, it was during the other day’s ritual Contact List Deletion Ceremony (during which Duke and Belding met their final demises!) that my eyes caught another name that gave me pause for consideration. Dear readers, meet Brando.

Ahhh, Brando … So named because he’s a tough Italian with a fantastic New York accent and an intense personality that makes me think of a Mafia boss. He also happens to be my high-school chemistry teacher. Just wait, it gets better!

Now before you go and get your unmentionables all twisted, we had a completely innocent student/teacher bond. Initially he scared me on the first few days of school, but it was part of an act to weed out the kids who couldn’t handle his teaching style, and we ended up being each-other’s favorites that year. He sat me in the front row and performed experiments over my head, and I worked my ass off to pull the highest grade on the final in five years — and this from a girl who had previously had no interest in science. Brando had a knack for relating to his students like we were on the same level, made easier by the fact that he was in his mid-20’s at the time. My family moved around a lot while I was growing up so I only stayed at that particular high-school for a year, but I always remembered him fondly and once in a while over the years I’d throw his name into Google to see if I could find an email address.

Long(er) story short, I managed to find him two years ago and we struck up an email friendship. We were supposed to meet in the summer of 2006, but something came up and he was mysteriously unavailable when I was back in town. So we gave it another go this past summer, meeting for drinks at a quiet pub a few miles from the place where we’d been student and teacher … And for about five minutes, it was all kinds of sketchy! Think about it — this is someone who was always an authority figure in your eyes, and now you’re all grown up and there’s only about 12 or 13 years between you in age, and you realize that things are in a completely different league on a different level. Kinda sexy in a taboo sort of way, but it still took a bit of getting used to! ;-)

So we spent a few hours catching up, and before parting ways for the night, Brando suggested that we meet for dinner the day before I had to fly out. But once again he bailed on me without explanation, and this time I decided that it wasn’t worth my trouble and I wouldn’t bother keeping in touch with him again. And that was the thought wandering through my mind when I scrolled to his name in my contacts and clicked “delete”.

But fate is a tricky bastard, and an hour ago my phone rings with a New York area code. Since I’m eternally curious and it would have been ridiculously late back east, I answered. And what do I hear but Brando’s blurry, raspy baritone asking for my forgiveness. Ha! Drunk dialing is such good times!

We chatted for about 20 minutes — and yes, I gave him hell for bailing on me which he apologized about 80 times for. He then swore up, down, and sideways that the next time he’s in Vegas (likely in mid-winter), he wants to fly me out and take me out on the town and “make it up” to me. I don’t know the guy well enough to ascertain if that means he’ll buy me some drinks and coerce me into shaking my groove thang at Rum Jungle, or if he has more “adult” ideas in mind … I gotta say that I’m intrigued though! Yes, he’s a borderline wanker, but dammit if that marginally cocky attitude doesn’t get to me! I figure as long as I’m cognizant of the wankerness, it means I can play along a little. And let’s be honest — who doesn’t have a few sordid fantasies about being “hot for teacher”? ;-)

Hollowiener October 31, 2007

Hope all of you guys and ghouls out there had a frighteningly fabulous Halloween! Mwahaha!

… And with that, I am fresh out of holiday-themed references. “A” for effort?

So last night with Ozzy was sweetly awkward — kind of that in-between place where it’s a slight bit uncomfortable but in a charming way. By the end of the first Heroes he had his arm around me, and by the end of the second episode our legs were all pretzeled up and we were holding hands and my head was on his shoulder. *Sigh* Dude, I seriously need my own border patrol, because I am an expert at circumventing that “just friends” line! ;-)

Ozzy is … Ozzy? What can I say. He’s my “type”, has many great qualities, seems to really dig me, etc etc. I’ve been completely honest with him about how I feel — wanting to like him “in that way” but it’s just not happening — and he says he understands. Which is probably boy-speak for “I’m gonna pretend I understand until my adoration overwhelms you and you turn to me ever so slowly, pout your lips seductively, and lead me off to your bedroom for a night of unspeakable passion!”

(Note to self: Writing believable male dialog, probably not a strong point. Ha!)

Then tonight I met up with Dwandy at a hole-in-the-wall Mexican joint, and we ruminated a bit about what we were both looking for, relationship wise, between bites of burrito and enchilada.

“I’m looking for companionship that’s fun and enjoyable but not totally serious,” he said. “What about yourself?”

I took a long sip of Sprite while I carefully pondered my words.

“I’m interested in casually dating,” I replied, “with the potential for a mutually exclusive relationship if the feelings are there.”

Dwandy made agreeable sounds between chewing while I nodded, pleased with the way I’d phrased things. I’ve made it clear that I don’t consider us to be exclusive, but I’m not just looking to be a serial dater either, I thought to myself.

“And sex outside of the context of a relationship, not so much,” I added as an afterthought. Of course, I had to raise my Sprite again to hide a guilty grin, as I certainly haven’t always been so stoic in the past! Still, I figured it might be a good idea to put it out on the table. Although Dwandy is another chap whose dating and sexual history is very limited, based on my recent experience with Wanker Belding, that doesn’t always count for much!

He nodded in understanding and we finished our dinner conversation on various topics before retiring to my apartment to watch Pushing Daisies.

Meh … I don’t know how I feel about Dwandy at this point. His attitude on Monday night was off-putting but unusual, so I mostly chalked it up to one of those weird moods. But at the same time, I think that good behavior should be somewhat expected in the first stages of a courtship … Save the drama for yo’ momma and the pissy moods for when the other person actually cares about you and is more invested in your relationship, right?

So while I’m not quite ready to bestow Dwandy with a wanker ranking just yet, he can be kind of a wiener at times. But as long as he keeps it in his pants (for now!) I think I’ll keep him around for a while … ;-)

In the meantime, tomorrow night is my sushi date with the new eHarmony lad and I’m really looking forward to it. We’ve had two great phone conversations and traded several hilarious texts, so I’m very optimistic! But for now, I’m off to welcome in November with a Malibu Lemonade (coconut rum mixed with pink lemonade … magically delicious!) and the latest Private Practice. Who knows, maybe I’ll meet my McDreamy yet!