Only in NY

This week I went to two concerts in NYC.  Here's the story of number one:

On Monday, I went to see Alanis Morrisette at Terminal 5.  It was pretty darn crowded and all the early birds and fancy people, who had VIP passes, were able to see what was going on. I was just a regular girl who arrived on time.  Since I don't have a lot of friends who appreciate my taste in music - especially the "angry girl" artists that I tend to drift towards - I went by myself.

The funny thing is that I'm not generally an angry girl.  I'd consider myself experienced in life and, therefore, entitled to be me, but I'm not 'angry'.  There's something about "angry girl" music that connects me to them.  Maybe it's because we've all been there, regardless of our station in life.  And sometimes it's nice to think that even famous musicians get dumped.  I know there's a lot of music out there drafted by professional song writers but it's the singer/songwriter that I'm drawn to.  The rawness of the words.  The anger.  The desperation of wanting to be loved.  They write about it all.  They're different than country singer/songwriters who are more detailed about the events leading to their heartache.  "Angry chick" lyrics are all about saying eff you, you broke my heart and here's what's left.  Even the music that supports these words is pissed off.  Anyway, Alanis is undoubtedly the poster child for "angry chick" music - and I love her!

I walked into a sweltering, hot theater with very high ceilings and wrap-around balconies on 2 higher floors.  There was also an open-air rooftop bar that you were able to enjoy while you puffed your life away.  I wandered around from floor to floor to find a place to stand.  Unfortunately, there are a lot more Alanis fans than I thought there would be.  A large portion of them were gay men and younger females - straight and gay.  Some of the straight girls dragged poor, unsuspecting men with them.  This kind of annoyed me because these "non-fans" were taking up prime real estate at a concert for an artist that I was a fan of. These guys weren't interested in being there.  They were suffering through "pissed-off chick" tunes in order to get lucky.  They were most likely lured into going to the show by their whimpering GF who held booty over their heads - yes, heads.  Both of them.

Anyway, Alanis popped on stage after her husband "Souleye" performed.  Souleye?!  Really?! M.C. Souleye to be exact.  Girls were bouncing up and down and gay boys were whispering to each other about how excited they were to be there.  On the upper floors, people were trying to catch a glimpse of the stage by kneeling down to look between the legs of the early birds.  I'm sorry but I'm not getting on my knees for Alanis, or, in fact, any musician (ok.  I'll admit it - there is an exception, my love, Eddie Vedder).

I stood around, unable to see and listened to Alanis screech.  I started to feel way too hot (peri-menopause is awesome at a concert in a hot theater).  I walked to the back of the room and found the only cool place in the joint.  I hung out there for a few songs and then decided that since I wasn't actually witnessing the show, I might as well go up and check out the roof.  I was in the middle of NYC and it was surprisingly peaceful.  There were a handful of people quietly chatting and I was able to watch the concert on a tv.  It was like being at home - except that I don't watch that much tv and if I did, I wouldn't be watching a concert.  I decided to relax, suck it up and enjoy the cool air.  With that, some people walked through the door and, BAM!, the peaceful atmosphere immediately vanished.  One of the members of the group was clearly the "I have to be the center of attention" type.  He spoke loudly and flitted about making everyone aware of his presence - whether we liked it or not.  I tend to be a magnet that attracts annoying people, so, naturally, he made his way over to where I was quietly sitting.  He called his friends over.  Fortunately, they convinced him to join them on the other side.  The two boys next to me sighed with relief at the same time I did.  We smiled simultaneously when they left after they smoked a couple of cigarettes.

Towards the end of the show, a very drunk gay boy danced past me, saw what I was doing and sang "Did you forget about me, Mrs. Duplicity, I hate to bug you in the middle of texting."  I loved it.  We laughed in unison.  On his way back from the bathroom, "Rick" introduced himself and we chatted about something insignificant that made us laugh.  In a matter of seconds, I noticed a bitter-looking 50something year old woman standing over Rick. While clutching a red, medium sized Macy's shopping bag, she sneered at me.  Then, without moving her wrinkled, lipstick stained mouth, she scolded Rick for taking too long.  He smiled at me and said a quick good-bye.  I laughed, shook my head and thought "Only I can make a gay man's hag jealous".  Only in NY.  Only me!!

Online Dating: The Saga Continues

I'm getting a little fed up lately with online dating.  There are so many fake profiles that I'm thinking of deleting my accounts - on all 5 sites.  Today I read that two women from the Midwest were arrested by the FBI for scamming women out of hundreds and thousands of dollars in a Nigerian scam.  WTF?!!  The worst part (aside from scamming their own gender) is that they posed as US Servicemen.  I've been telling my friends about all the pictures of military guys lately and I know they were stolen from some poor guy who is out there protecting our country.

I purposely contacted a few of these "men" and I had this conversation (in parts) with "Dan, from The Bronx":

(9:15:32pm)Dan:nothing much, just staying indoors, we are still in camp

(9:16:02pm)me:in camp? with wifi?

(9:17:33pm)Dan:yes I am inn Fort Hamilton in Brooklyn at the moment, online dating is not allowed but I am just sneaking up to see what's good here

(9:17:49pm)me:haaa

(9:17:51pm)me:that's funny

(9:17:59pm)me:by the bridge?

(9:18:26pm)me:so am i worth sneaking up for?!

(9:19:14pm)dan:yes, because you are the reason I am still here

(9:19:22pm)me:ohhhhh

(9:19:24pm)me:thank you

Interesting. A little questionable.

(9:24:54pm):just a few days

(9:24:41pm)me:why do you have to stay outside? don't they have barracks?

(9:25:31pm):I am in barracks now

(9:25:39pm)me: Oh

(9:26:13pm)me:i really don't know much about military terms, etc

(9:26:23pm)dan:np

(9:26:50pm)me:where are you from?

(9:27:50pm)dan:I am Daniel from Bronx

(9:28:03pm)me:always from the bronx?

(9:28:14pm)me:I grew up on long island

(9:28:54pm)dan:no sometimes we work with UN on peacekeeping missions. I have been to parts of Asia and Africa

(9:29:42pm)me:very cool

(9:30:54pm)dan:yeah but not so cool though

(9:31:13pm)me:yes, it's not like you're on vacation

(9:31:23pm me:how long have you been in the military?

(9:32:35pm) dan:Over 20 yea rs now

Not so suspicious yet.

Questions From a Serial Online Dater

How is it that a girl who is on 5 (yes, FIVE) different dating websites (3 which are paid memberships) does not have at least 2-3 dates a week?

Today a friend of mine asked me how my love life was.  I told him that it was basically nonexistent.  It seems that I am undateable.  Why?  I have no idea.

I don't have warts on my face, a gigantic club foot or even an enormous butt (it's not small but definitely NOT enormous).  I'm not a skinny girl but I'd not morbidly obese.  I'd say curvy, voluptuous, zaftig and maybe even chubby - American average size of 12-14.

I have a great job that I can retire from in less less than 7 years.  Granted, it's not your typical girl job but I love it.  Wouldn't you want to be with a girl who loved her job?  I work at night which I think is a good because then you're not up each other's butts all the time.  My work/days off schedule rocks, so I'm easy to make plans with.

I make a decent amount of money, which some people would consider a plus. It puts me in the "I'm not-financially-dependent-on-a-man" group of women, which I would think is a bonus.

I own my home (ok technically the bank does) which I'd say is cozy and comfortable.  I'd like to think of it as lived in but absolutely not dirty.  Hey, people get busy and clothes, shoes, purses, accessories, etc. may fly around the house when I'm deciding on an outfit.  Eventually, I put it all back where it belongs - the clothes explosion mostly takes place in the guest room and the door is always closed.

I can cook and I make thee best Betty Crocker brownies on the planet. Sometimes there are dishes in the sink but it's usually because I haven't emptied out the dishwasher.  The dishes have been rinsed, so it's not gross.  Living life is more important than being freakishly neat.

I don't mind doing laundry and I can even fold a fitted sheet into a square.  I've been told that I have terrific ironing skills.  My dresser drawers contain neatly folded and organized essentials and I have a lot of closet space.  Ok, the closets are filled to capacity with my stuff but I'd move some things over and maybe even have a 'get  rid of day" to accommodate my guy.  The only exception is my shoe closet, that can't be negotiated.

I don't drink booze, so there's always a DD.  And I'll even go as far to say that I'll pick up any friend from anywhere at any time (if I'm available) so that I know they got home safely.  I'll pick them up from a bar but not from behind them.  They know not to call me for DWI bail money though.

I'm told that I have a great sense of humor, however, it can be a little bit warped, and a giggle like Betty Rubble.  My laugh usually usually enters a room before I do.  Ok.  I may snort when I'm laughing hysterically but that's part of the fun and it usually causes more laughter.

I've recently opened myself up to dating women and went on a couple of dates with a doctor.  Same shit, different gender.  But at least I went on more than one date.

My profiles are all a little bit different from one another and I don't think my pictures are out of date or unattractive.  I don't consider myself photogenic, so it's hard for me to pick out a larger amount. Plus, I think that too many pictures make a person look odd.  I've seen what's out there and it's scary.  Some of these girls are illiterate and sound desperate. I don't describe myself as a diva, a queen, a princess, high maintenance or anything other than girl next door with an edge.  I don't have baggage, drama or even kids.  I don't have pictures of me making kissy-faces, with boobs hanging out and I'm not posing like a hooker.  Is that what I'm supposed to do?  Guys have said that I'm much more attractive, cuter and even prettier in person than in my pictures.  Unfortunately, I can't get beyond my own email expressing interest.

How does one go about explaining themselves to attract a man or even a woman.   I've asked friends and non-friends alike.  No one seems to have an answer - or they're too polite to be up front with me. I'm perplexed.

Suggestions are welcome....