So, way back when I was using MySpace as my blog outlet, I wrote the following in a post, dated 05 Sep 2008:
While Gabe was in town this summer, we spent a lot of drunken time putting together The List. Every time we got together, we'd recap, add to it, and curse that we never managed to write it down. There was a soggy bar napkin with a lot of writing on it, but I can't help but think that it ended up in Gabe's dryer vent.
The List is a running inventory of all the qualities that make a man completely un-dateable. Some of them are serious issues that we know prevent good relationships for us (eg. Too stupid to hold a conversation, or Has a singular passion that rules his whole life), but most are just visible signs of douchebaggery that help us know who to avoid (eg. Superman tattoo, white sunglasses, necklaces/chains)....
As far as I knew, this was an original concept. I'd never even heard the word "undateable" before we started using it. Imagine my chagrin when I discovered that someone else has written our book and become rich and famous, while we were busy being too drunk and lazy to capitalize on our wit.
Next month you'll be able to purchase Undateable: 311 Things Guys Do That Guarantee They Won't Be Dating or Having Sex, which is written by two people who clearly are not me and Gabe, but who -- exactly like us -- list out myriad bad moves by men, such as soul patches and wearing pleated khaki shorts. It includes many of the same dealbreakers that we came up with, but without the extra special perspective a straight woman and gay man combine to produce on each faux pas. Even worse, I read that a month after its release, the book will be turned into a VH1 mini-series as well.
But we're not bitter. No, we're already busy chugging zinfandel by the bottle and coming up with our next big idea. Just you wait, World!
Wednesday 24 February 2010
Monday 22 February 2010
Lands of Confusion
During my next trip to Europe, I'll be visiting 6 different countries, none of which speak English as their national language. I don't really want to be an obnoxious American tourist who assumes every country will accommodate me by becoming fluent in English, but I also know that I won't learn six languages in the next three months. I'm not spending enough time in each place to put in that sort of effort. Besides, I just can't be bothered.
As a happy medium, I've decided to narrow it down to 15 useful words or phrases, which I'll just have to memorize in 6 different forms. Here they are, with one example of the translation I'll be attempting to learn.
Good & Useful Things
Things to Avoid
As a happy medium, I've decided to narrow it down to 15 useful words or phrases, which I'll just have to memorize in 6 different forms. Here they are, with one example of the translation I'll be attempting to learn.
Good & Useful Things
- Do you speak English? - Talar pu ensku? (Icelandic)
- I don't understand - Jag forstar inte (Swedish)
- Go away - Forsvinn (Norwegian)
- Airport - Flugvollur (Icelandic)
- Train - tog (Danish)
- Police Office - politiebureau (Flemish)
- Exit/Way Out - Utgang (Norwegian)
- Pork - flask (Swedish)
- Coffee - koffie (Dutch)
- Beer - fadol (Danish)
- Shoe shop - skoaffar (Swedish)
Things to Avoid
- No entry - geen toegang (Dutch)
- Prohibited - Forbudt (Norwegian)
- Seafood - skaldjur (Swedish)
- Alcohol-free - alcoholvrije (Flemish)
Sunday 21 February 2010
Canada Hockey Place
GOOOOOO CANADA!!!!
Well, I'm finally watching my first event of this year's Olympics: USA vs Canada in men's hockey. I'm (of course) being a total hockey nerd -- getting really excited, talking to the players from my couch, cursing and woo-hooing, as the case may dictate.
But wait. There's more. While I do all the above, and dance around my living room for each of Canada's goals, I'm also wearing my Team Canada hockey sweater. I got it back before the 1998 games, customized with the name and number of my now-retired hockey boyfriend Eric Lindros, captain of Canada's 4th place finishing '98 Olympic team.
Yes, I'm a bad American. But I'm a very good hockey fan.
Well, I'm finally watching my first event of this year's Olympics: USA vs Canada in men's hockey. I'm (of course) being a total hockey nerd -- getting really excited, talking to the players from my couch, cursing and woo-hooing, as the case may dictate.
But wait. There's more. While I do all the above, and dance around my living room for each of Canada's goals, I'm also wearing my Team Canada hockey sweater. I got it back before the 1998 games, customized with the name and number of my now-retired hockey boyfriend Eric Lindros, captain of Canada's 4th place finishing '98 Olympic team.
Yes, I'm a bad American. But I'm a very good hockey fan.
Friday 19 February 2010
The Dictionary
hyposomnia (hi-poh-som-nee-ah)
noun - reduced time of sleep
Sarah has always had hyposomnia; her mother says she didn't even sleep much as an infant.
debilitude (dah-bil-ah-tood)
[Origin - debilitation + attitude]
noun - irritability and slowing of mental function, due to hyposomnia. Typically begins to appear in one's thirties
Give Sarah some space today, she's suffering from debilitude.
noun - reduced time of sleep
Sarah has always had hyposomnia; her mother says she didn't even sleep much as an infant.
debilitude (dah-bil-ah-tood)
[Origin - debilitation + attitude]
noun - irritability and slowing of mental function, due to hyposomnia. Typically begins to appear in one's thirties
Give Sarah some space today, she's suffering from debilitude.
Tuesday 16 February 2010
A Bad Song Relationship
Did you ever have one of those songs that's just like the guy you shouldn't date?
You know there's really nothing worthwhile about him, he's absolutely bad for you, but still, you just can't stay away. Sometimes you'll go for months without any contact; you'll think you're done, he's lost his grip on you. Then he suddenly turns up, and you're right back there, loving every second of his company. But afterwards you feel dirty, ashamed to tell your friends that he's back, because you hate seeing them roll their eyes and give you that particular look of disgust. So you continue to enjoy him, but at home or in your car, away from their judging eyes. Loving and hating him, and having a fantastic time.
We all have a song like that. This is mine. It came back to haunt me this morning.
Don't judge.
By the way, I'd NEVER have any relationships like the above with actual humans. I wasn't writing from experience, I was just totally guessing.
You know there's really nothing worthwhile about him, he's absolutely bad for you, but still, you just can't stay away. Sometimes you'll go for months without any contact; you'll think you're done, he's lost his grip on you. Then he suddenly turns up, and you're right back there, loving every second of his company. But afterwards you feel dirty, ashamed to tell your friends that he's back, because you hate seeing them roll their eyes and give you that particular look of disgust. So you continue to enjoy him, but at home or in your car, away from their judging eyes. Loving and hating him, and having a fantastic time.
We all have a song like that. This is mine. It came back to haunt me this morning.
Don't judge.
By the way, I'd NEVER have any relationships like the above with actual humans. I wasn't writing from experience, I was just totally guessing.
Monday 15 February 2010
The Party Room
I was having a thoroughly miserable Monday, when I came across this article in the Chicago Sun-Times that made my day much better (at least briefly):
Pornography bookstore has $30 sex 'party room'
Why does it amuse me? Well, here are some quotes from the article...
A Melrose Park pornography bookstore -- run with the help of a former crooked cop with ties to the mob -- offers a party room in the back where couples and singles have multiple sex partners as part of organized, late-night sessions. It costs $30 or more per person to get in to the party room.... Finger foods, such as chicken wings, are provided. They also offer drinks.
Seems to me that thirty bucks just for drinks and wings is a pretty good deal. I mean, the sex party is just a bonus. But what does the mayor have to say about it?
"Do I want to be having this conversation with you?" the mayor asked. "I'd rather be talking about the Super Bowl."
Oh, I love you, Chicagoland.
Pornography bookstore has $30 sex 'party room'
Why does it amuse me? Well, here are some quotes from the article...
A Melrose Park pornography bookstore -- run with the help of a former crooked cop with ties to the mob -- offers a party room in the back where couples and singles have multiple sex partners as part of organized, late-night sessions. It costs $30 or more per person to get in to the party room.... Finger foods, such as chicken wings, are provided. They also offer drinks.
Seems to me that thirty bucks just for drinks and wings is a pretty good deal. I mean, the sex party is just a bonus. But what does the mayor have to say about it?
"Do I want to be having this conversation with you?" the mayor asked. "I'd rather be talking about the Super Bowl."
Oh, I love you, Chicagoland.
Thursday 11 February 2010
The Mall
Seems like everyone around me is in some sort of tizzy about Valentine's Day, be it a rush to find their beloved a meaningful tribute, or to purchase enough alchohol to drown their single-person sorrows. I guess I'm alone in having no reaction whatsoever to the day celebrating a mysterious, but apparently romantic, early Christian martyr. Maybe it's because I don't have any interest in this whole enterprise that causes people to feel one way or another about St Valentine's Day. I prefer being single, so as I said earlier today, "I don't really want somebody to be all up in my face, worrying about a dumb holiday."
What does bother me about this time of year is the advertising. Whether it's television, spam, or the world wide interwebs, I'm bombarded with commercials that essentially say You are required to buy a woman a gift, but you're just a dumb guy who can't figure out what she wants. Never fear! She definitely wants...
... a big pile of diamonds!
... a heart shaped box of terrible candy!
... a bouquet of flowers the size of a Volkswagen!
She doesn't want any of that stuff, if she's like most women out there. What she really wants is probably a new iPod, or a week in Hawaii because February is freakin' cold where she lives. At first the ads were just silly, but as February 14th nears, their ubiquity is beginning to agitate me.
I guess I need to find a way to make money off Go ask your significant other how they want to celebrate this holiday of romance, and then DO THAT. I'd be a millionaire!
What does bother me about this time of year is the advertising. Whether it's television, spam, or the world wide interwebs, I'm bombarded with commercials that essentially say You are required to buy a woman a gift, but you're just a dumb guy who can't figure out what she wants. Never fear! She definitely wants...
... a big pile of diamonds!
... a heart shaped box of terrible candy!
... a bouquet of flowers the size of a Volkswagen!
She doesn't want any of that stuff, if she's like most women out there. What she really wants is probably a new iPod, or a week in Hawaii because February is freakin' cold where she lives. At first the ads were just silly, but as February 14th nears, their ubiquity is beginning to agitate me.
I guess I need to find a way to make money off Go ask your significant other how they want to celebrate this holiday of romance, and then DO THAT. I'd be a millionaire!
Monday 8 February 2010
A Tourist Trap
When most Americans think of Cancun, they either envision picturesque white sand beaches and luxurious resorts, or dirty cities populated by poor people. I know I'm stating the obvious, but it's both.
A friend chided me for being such a tourist on my trip to Playa del Carmen, when normally I would want to experience the local culture. But without the culture-for-sale industry tourism creates, there wouldn't be any locals to hang with.
Outside the posh tourist areas, Mexico is still a developing country, but one with very little means to support itself. The waste management infrastructure is in progress, but is still far behind the influx of disposable products, so there's garbage everywhere. You see small dirty-faced children and skinny dogs wandering the streets, people driving down the highway in cars with no windows or door handles. And their way out is tourism.
I talked to some of the Mexicans employed in the resort and tour companies, and they all mentioned working 7 days a week during the busy season. Since their economy is based almost totally on visitors, last year's recession and swine flu scares kept many of them out of work for months. It's the same in sun-and-sand countries the world over. The Nature of Things just reran a couple of episodes telling this same story in Cuba, where a bartender in a hotel can make 2-3 times the yearly salary of a local doctor.
So I don't feel so lame about supporting the cheesy tourist industry in Mexico. Or the Bahamas. Or Costa Rica. Or wherever I go next. It's the least I can do...
A friend chided me for being such a tourist on my trip to Playa del Carmen, when normally I would want to experience the local culture. But without the culture-for-sale industry tourism creates, there wouldn't be any locals to hang with.
Outside the posh tourist areas, Mexico is still a developing country, but one with very little means to support itself. The waste management infrastructure is in progress, but is still far behind the influx of disposable products, so there's garbage everywhere. You see small dirty-faced children and skinny dogs wandering the streets, people driving down the highway in cars with no windows or door handles. And their way out is tourism.
I talked to some of the Mexicans employed in the resort and tour companies, and they all mentioned working 7 days a week during the busy season. Since their economy is based almost totally on visitors, last year's recession and swine flu scares kept many of them out of work for months. It's the same in sun-and-sand countries the world over. The Nature of Things just reran a couple of episodes telling this same story in Cuba, where a bartender in a hotel can make 2-3 times the yearly salary of a local doctor.
So I don't feel so lame about supporting the cheesy tourist industry in Mexico. Or the Bahamas. Or Costa Rica. Or wherever I go next. It's the least I can do...
Tuesday 2 February 2010
Airport Hell
I must've jinxed myself by saying that I actually like to fly, because I had a totally unlikable travel day yesterday.
I got to the airport nice and early because I'd been staying an hour away, just to spend 2 hours waiting in line at the check-in counter. When I finally got my boarding pass, I was told that my plane would board in 5 minutes, and barely made it to the gate in time... to discover that there was a mechanical issue holding up the plane. We took off almost 3 hours after our scheduled time.
It's too bad, I started my day by sitting on the beach and was in a really good mood, despite having to head home.
Welcome back to Seattle. Ugh.
I got to the airport nice and early because I'd been staying an hour away, just to spend 2 hours waiting in line at the check-in counter. When I finally got my boarding pass, I was told that my plane would board in 5 minutes, and barely made it to the gate in time... to discover that there was a mechanical issue holding up the plane. We took off almost 3 hours after our scheduled time.
It's too bad, I started my day by sitting on the beach and was in a really good mood, despite having to head home.
Welcome back to Seattle. Ugh.
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