I Feel Pretty

I'm a rather goal oriented person, and upon my recent move decided upon what on the surface seems like a rather silly goal. Treating myself to something 'nice' once a week. Not a big splurge, but something that without this objective would not happen.

So far they are kind of beauty related:

Week 1- pedicure (so desperately needed it barely counted as a splurge, and I LOVE pretty feet.)

Week 2- manicure (it was fun to have pretty nails!) :)

Week 3- my first ever eyebrow wax.

You see, last week on our break my coworker popped into her fave spot and got hers done. I couldn't believe the transformation. Have been thinking about it non stop. Stopped plucking every day in preparation. So today I took the plunge.

Unbelievable what a difference this makes. I feel all glam and pretty, even with bright red skin. Not sure why I didn't start this years ago.

Who knows what next week brings. I'm open to suggestions, just remember, these pockets aren't lined with gold, so hopefully my splurge can be around $20.

All Good Things Must Come to an End

Packing and cleaning today, I realized something startling. I'm about to leave the neighborhood that I have called home for the last 7 years. I've lived on this street longer than I have lived anywhere else in my life. This is where I've forged the closest friendships of my life. Where my heart was broken...and where my heart mended. Where I seem to have found my stride, motivation, really come into my own.

It has been a whirlwind couple of weeks. You see, I've been itching to move into SF for quite some time now. Fall of 09 is when I caught the bug. Why? I'm not certain. At the time I worked in Alameda, and had a handful of friends in the city. I started looking, getting a feel for how far I could stretch a dollar. Ended up finding a great place, in what was at the time my target neighborhood. Enter fate...and a bad economy. The company I worked for wasn't doing so well. I had survived several rounds of layoffs; so many that in fact I was the only one left. Before I signed a lease, and put down my money, my boss told me he was going to have to let me go.

My current place in WC offered me lower rent, at the exact same time. I reluctantly signed a lease. Wouldn't you know it, I was unemployed all of one and a half weeks. You read that correctly, weeks. Got a great job, in SF.

And I've been commuting to SF...and being very resentful of the 2 1/2 hours a day I lose. And being resentful of leaving my house around 9 each morning, and not getting home until 8 every evening. Add in I now seem to have many close friends, in SF, that I can't easily see after work. To be blunt, lets add in that I seem to date men in SF, and my 'walk of shame' involves public transportation. YIKES!

So, I started looking again, in earnest, after receiving a hefty tax return. Found a fabulous place, a 15 minute walk to the office. 2 1/2 blocks from a close girl friend. Close to some great night life. It has definitely been a whirlwind couple of weeks, and Monday morning, movers are arriving and I'll be a city girl.

I'll always be a small town girl, at heart.

Just Another Wednesday...

Last Wednesday, MW (coworker and friend) invites me out to happy hour at the Clock Bar, located in an upscale hotel in Union Square.

MW and I are both dressed kind of rock glam-over the top this particular day. I'm wearing a very short black skirt, shirt with a fur collar, and high heeled boots. MW is wearing a black, faux snake skin mini-skirt, white embellished tank top, high heeled boots. There is a big healthcare conference in the city, and the bar is full of men in business suits. MW and I, perhaps stand out in this crowd.

After a couple cocktails, I personally decide it is time to leave. As I'm saying my goodbyes, the fellow sitting next to me, who had tried to get my attention earlier, starts talking. We chit chat, MW comes over, and I acquiesce and agree to stay a tiny bit longer. The fellow, Tomas, offers to buy me a drink. Now, I have a good feel for people, and I don't like Tomas; and I politely decline, and state that I have to take public transportation home, which is horrible when tipsy. Tomas suggests that he will have a limo take me home, and looks at MW and says "you have a limo service programmed in your phone, right?" At this point all I can think is "holy hell, he thinks we're hookers!!!"

Now, MW doesn't not pick up on this detail. Tomas wants to take us to dinner, and her response is "somewhere fancy, we only eat in nice restaurants."

***MW is an itty, bitty thing, has had several cocktails and quite frankly we're only eating soup for lunch these days.***

Then he wants to buy us drinks and MW announces that we "only drink top shelf". I'm becoming more and more uptight, and less and less agreeable. MW is becoming visibly frustrated because I won't accept a drink and refuse to consider going to dinner with these fellows.

The highlight of this exchange is surely when MW was attempting to explain our jobs. "People pay us thousands of dollars for help with their love lives, you know. Well, not us, but "the people we work for". Yep, she just told him we have a pimp...

Finally, he excuses himself and I proclaim "he thinks we're hookers!!!". While MW is skeptical, I promise her it will make sense later, beg her to trust me on this one, and so we leave.

The solace and comfort I have is at least I was mistaken for a prostitute at the Clock Bar. Not like AP, who was mistaken for a working girl at Jack in the Box recently. Maybe it is time to rethink the work outfits???

Leave me alone, you creeper!

Is what I should have said...

As we left things, I flaked on date #2, under the pretext of "having a headache." Now, if you were a normal guy, you'd probably at least be suspicious my headache was a ruse, and that I wasn't interested. However, as I've never been known to date normal guys, this was not the case.

I was treated to, in my opinion, a completely inappropriate text message* the following morning. To which I did not reply. It was followed up, a few hours later, with a bordering on angry text message.** I sent a terse reply to that, and ignored dude's follow up reply.

I didn't hear back from him for 2 whole days! I was getting optimistic. Maybe, I could just wipe my hands of the entire situation! Yeah, not so much.

Friday afternoon...more text messages. Dude is now angling to come over my apartment this weekend. He wants to "bring me nice wine" so I can relax. Didn't reply to first text, and of course he just kept texting. I'm at work, and now getting stressed. Instead of saying "Leave me alone, you creeper!" I sent a short reply, indicating I would get back at him later in the weekend.

At least that got him off my ass, and not blowing up my phone while I was at work. I knew it wasn't the long term fix. I had to tell him it wasn't going to happen, in a direct manner. There is history here, this guy has been chasing me down for a while, and doesn't take hints. I sent him a FB message, stating he had come on way too strong and made me very uncomfortable. Then I blocked him from everything. Blocked his number from my phone, deleted/blocked him from my FB, email, etc.

Now I have to get rid of OKC guy. Had some very nice emails/IMs with this fellow. Gave him my phone number a little sooner than usual, and had a nice chat with him. To which he:

a. texted me immediately after I hung up the phone

b. then, after texting me immediately, sent me a message on OKC

c. called me the next night, because I hadn't replied to his text(?!?)

d. immediately sent me a message on OKC after that phone call.

Seriously, are the planets out of whack? What is going on with these boys? Is dating even worth it?

In case you wonder what constitutes a completely inappropriate text message, or an angry text message:

*U owe me big time for last night mrs...Oh yes!! I expect u...scantily clad attire in-tow when i see u next!! jk i hope u r feeling ok...

** Did you end up going to work today or whatever?

Physician, Heal Thyself

Ok. I've not blogged in a year. My last blog was all about promising to blog more...let's just call that a FAIL!

Here's the deal- I've got a rad new job. This is not my excuse for not blogging. This is my excuse to start up again. Unfortunately, due to signing a NDA, I can't divulge many details. To sum up what I can divulge, I'm an event planner. I assist busy, single people meet people, and plan dates. I also spend a great deal of time being a dating coach. (Have you caught on to what my top secret job is?)

I've explained on more than one occasion, that the line between "creepy" and "charismatic" is how you respond to the other persons behavior. If you're not into someone, and they text you everyday, it is creepy. You're into them, and they text you everyday, you get double rainbow giddy.

I'm turning the big 36 soon. And having the same freak out I have every year pre-birthday. So, I accepted a date from someone I knew I didn't "like" in that way, under the premise of maybe I hadn't given it a chance. Date was...fine. Better than I expected. Except, I don't feel a click. Remember though, I'm in pre-birthday freak out mode. Like the dumb ass I am, I accepted date number two.

Unfortunately, while I'm in pre-birthday freak out mode, I'm also like a skittish horse AND I don't like him. The texts calling me "sexy mama" "baby" "sweetheart" creep me the fuck out. I did the only thing I could do, I flaked. I now have to know work out the gumption to say "it occurs to me we are really better off as friends."

Your intrepid dating coach, however, was still freaking out. I had to call one of my girls, who said "if you liked him, you would be eating this up."*** Duh, advice I solidly give to my clients daily.

***I don't think I would eat this up, even if I liked him. I hate that kind of nonsense. "Babe" I'm okay with. Anything else, I think is over the top, sentimental nonsense.