Welcome to my humble blog........

I came across this site because Viv told me about a friend's "must see" Blog - which I finally found because it's 'dot' not "@" blogspot.com.

I somehow ended up with my own Blog but I had no idea what the heck to do said Blog. I decided on it's original content whilst chatting with a guy I met online who I called The Lounge Singer. He thought I was funny and suggested that I write my witticisms down.

It started out with me pecking away at the keyboard for the sake of posterity. Eventually, it took on a new life and it morphed into a Blog of my online dating experiences.

I hope you enjoy alittlebrowndog

NOTE: Should you find yourself the subject of one of my essays, don't get all jerked up. Stand up, smile and be proud that you made such an impression on me - because it's not easy.

Hugs!!!!!


Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Dreams That Make You Say "HUH?"

02/21/2012
I had a dream that we got new cars at work.  hahaahahahaha

Maybe tonight I'll dream that our contract will get settled.

02/22/2012

A rice eating contest?

Who could eat more handfuls of rice and the winner got $20,000?  WTF was that all about?

Incidentally, I won.  I ate 8 handfuls of cooked rice but got disqualified because I didn't properly register, so the girl who ate 7 handfuls won.




Monday, February 20, 2012

Saturday Night's Dream

What do you think a dream means when the following is involved:

A Gazebo
The Entrance Way and Living Room (with 1960s Decor)
A Wedding to Take Place in Said Gazebo
A Short A-Line Crochet Wedding Dress
A Tall, Red and Black Paper Tiara
A Tree
Bird of Paradise Flowers
A Japanese Style Floral Arrangement (for the Gazebo)
My Dad (who is deceased)
My Nan (who is deceased)
My Ex-husband (not deceased but re-married with 2 kids)
Hawaiian Shirts
A Blizzard During the Summer (thus delaying the Wedding Service)
My Girlfriends in Pastel Colored Jackie O Style Suits


Oh.... and Me in the Wedding Dress with an Updo and the Tiara (that made my forehead look big)


Seriously, all of those things were in one dream.



Monday, February 13, 2012

Death of a Date with a Salesman

He looked like a big hunk of a man from his little picture online and had a few witty things scrawled on his page.  He was looking for someone to play hooky with the following day because it was supposed to be 55 degrees (it's the middle of winter in NY).  Hey, I'm game - and spontaneous, like him.

He shall be called The Salesman....

The Salesman said he was 6'4" and separated with 2 kids.  Not a big deal to me because sometimes divorces take a long time.  I emailed him, he responded the next day.  We text each other and eventually made plans to have lunch the following day.

The next day arrived.  The Salesman text me in the morning saying that he would be in my area because he had a couple of sales calls nearby.  I'm not big on having dates in my own town but I didn't feel like driving far to meet him.  So, I pulled on a pair of medium dyed jean, a black top and those fabulous Freebird by Steven Heathrow boots.  I wore my aqua Boden wool jacket and carried my Glenda Gies coordinating purse.  My hair was straight.

12 noon arrived and I was actually on time (which would shock those who know me).  The Salesman was, too.  His profile picture made him look broad, tough and bear-like, which I love.  In reality, The Salesman was more narrow, fragile and stork-like.  He was indeed very tall and his legs looked kind of wobbly, like Bambi when goes ice skating with Thumper.  I was surprised that they withstood his body weight.  Fortunately, it wasn't a windy day.

The first restaurant I chose was not open yet, nor was the second that was a couple of blocks away.  As we walked to my third choice, I noticed that he was a bit pigeon-toed, which also made his knees bend in a bit.  He carried his Tablet like this was going to be a business meeting.  He answered an important business call.  Naturally, I saw someone I knew as we walked.

The Salesman and I ordered lunch, he paid (which was nice - and unexpected these days) and we sat down by the window, so the world could see me.  He gabbed away and I saw that his teeth were kind of weird.  Kind of short for such a tall man and he had something black in between two of them.  I didn't say anything because I'm sure when he got back in the car he'd notice it and remove it promptly.

The Salesman was certainly not at a loss for words.  He talked up a storm while I nodded, pleasantly smiled and thought to myself "When do I get invited into this conversation?".  Every event that he discussed ended with the whole gang finishing off lots of beer and spirits - just the kind of guy a sober girl wants to date.  I'm not opposed to someone having a drink or a good time but when alcohol is the main theme of social gathering, I'm kinda not diggin' that.  He also rambled on about how he liked tradition and doing the same things year after year.  Um, that doesn't sound too spontaneous to me.

The Salesman droned on about his job in Sales, which would explain his obnoxious demeanor.  I tried not to yawn or leave the restaurant.  He went on to talk about how he has family members in law enforcement and told some tired old stories of his encounters with the police.  He was obviously not the favorite son in his house.   He then discussed the big one: his separation, which actually wasn't an official separation at all.  Funny, to me "separation" means being separate, not being together, living apart but to The Salesman, it meant "She cheated on me, so I am free to do whatever I want and still sleep in the same bed, but I will tell everyone I sleep in the guest room."   Well that's the impression I got when he mentioned several times that he was sleeping in the guest room.  He seethed as he spoke of his soon-to-be ex-wife and didn't mind telling me that it was going to be a nasty divorce, a very nasty divorce.  Yeah, that's something that I want to be a part of.  Nothing like a nasty divorce to spice up a new relationship.

The Salesman eventually took a breath and I decided that the pleasantries were done.  I quickly spoke up while he inhaled and said that I have a bunch of errands to run or some nonsense like that and that I had to get going.  He left his garbage on the table, so I picked it up and tossed it for him.  Gotta love a man who doesn't pick up after himself.  We walked to my car and I kind of turned towards him and said "Thank you.  It was nice to meet you.  Bye."  I got in the car, shut the door and said out loud "Geeze.  How boring was that? He's not even blog-worthy"

I headed home and decided that I had to get needles and thread from the five and dime and while I was there, I'd pop into my favorite frozen yogurt shop for a dose of deliciousness.  As I got onto the sidewalk, I saw a co-worker who said "Hey.  What's up?  Whatcha doin'?" to which I replied "I just had a date."  He saw me walking towards the variety store and laughingly responded "I guess it didn't go too well."  I answered "Ummm, not so much."

Sunday, January 8, 2012

What?

"What?"  I feel that's what I said a lot when I went on my first date ever with a deaf guy.  I kind of thought it would be the other way around.

I will call him The Teacher.

When I first saw The Teacher's very expressive pictures online, I said to myself "Look at this clown. What a party guy.  As if I'd ever go out with him.".  Click. Click.  He was gone like that.  A day or so later, I got a "Wink" from him.  I hate "Winks", so I called him a tool.  A little while after the "Wink", he sent me a very short email - something like "Hey.  How are you?".  I said "Really?  That's it?  Can't he be a little more creative?"  At that point, I clicked on his silly name and read his profile.  I soon discovered that there was a reason he was so expressive.  He was deaf.  He was also a teacher and a coach at a school for the deaf.  "How interesting.", I thought, so I, being an equal opportunity dater, replied.

A bunch of emails led to instant messaging, which then led to us to exchanging phone numbers.  The Teacher and I soon got to the point of texting each other all day long.  He even text me while he was on vacation.  We discussed family, friends, work and hobbies.  I learned that he was not only a teacher and a coach but also a referee for deaf and hearing games.  I asked him what his response was to fans who yelled out "Ref, are you blind?"  I only know of one really bad word in sign language, so this was going to be tough.  But at least I knew that if things got bad, I could give him the finger and he would definitely understand me.

Tonight finally arrived and I got all dolled up for Meet the Teacher Night.  Due to the great weather, my normally wild and frizzy hair was pin straight, I wore dark clothes which allegedly made me look thinner and rocked my distressed black Steven Heathrow Biker Boots. I was off to a good, no great, start.  We decided to meet at an arcade center and, considering my lack of coordination for such things, I knew that if I wasn't funny, I would at least be funny to watch

The Teacher and I began our date with a drink at the bar.  The water went down smooth.  It was during this time that I sadly discovered The Teacher's speech was difficult to understand - I (we?) had a hard time communicating.  I kept leaning in, saying "I'm sorry?" and "What?".  First dates are difficult enough for me, but throw deafness into the mix and, POW!, I, surprisingly, was at a loss for words.  My brain seemed to freeze up like a deer in the night staring into highbeams.  I said "What?" so many times that I started to feel uneasy but I'm pretty confident that at one point he told me I was the most beautiful girl he'd ever met.  I didn't have to ask him twice about that or when he said I looked hot.  I found it hard to have a simple conversation because I couldn't hear him enough to understand him.   "What?"  Grrrrr.  I was so frustrated because I thought he was as cute as pie and I liked him (so far).  I really wanted to know more about him, so it was a huge bummer not being able to chat.  Once again, "What?".

The Teacher and I walked out of the bar, I tripped off the last step and we meandered over to Trivia.  Although I am not very sure-footed, I was quite confident that I had a lot of smarts in this brain of mine.  I read the categories and, since he can't hear and I love to sing out loud in the car, I really thought I'd have him beat when it came to "Music".   When the first spin landed on none other than "Music", he laughed.  I feverishly rubbed my hands together, tilted my head back so he couldn't read my lips and in an evil voice I said,  "Mwahahahaha.  This game is all mine."  Well.....wrong I was.  It seems I need to brush up on current music because I don't know Linken Park from Zucotti Park nor do I know any Top 40 music from this century.  The teacher beat me at each game.   Blast him!!!

The Teacher and I (happily) left Trivia and went on to Skeeball (my favorite amusement game of all time next to Pinball).  Game on!!  I'd beat this bastard for sure.  As the daughter of a Rockaway Girl, Skeeball was in my blood.  I was born with Skeeball skills.  This was in the bag.  I was going to win.  Well, apparently, I need a woodchip transfusion because The Teacher kicked my ass again.  As we walked away, I silently wondered if there was a Wooden Ball Drive coming up anytime soon?

The Teacher/Basketball Coach challenged me to Basketball.  Really? That's like me challenging him to Karaoke.  After he whooped me at hoops, I was reminded a few more times that I really suck at arcade games.  I also found out that the world is a safer place because I don't race cars for a living.  I crashed so many times driving the Nascar simulator that I should've been airlifted to NUMC with virtual brain damage.  The best part of the night was that The Teacher didn't challenge me to any games with firearms.  For that I am truly happy because had I lost at deer hunting or Rambo, I would've had to hang my head in shame and retire from my job in Law Enforcement.

My date with The Teacher came to an abrupt end when his pre-paid game card ran out of money and we wandered around one too many times.  We tried to figure out what to do next but I really didn't know what to do after embarrassing myself so much playing arcade games.  It would've been too suggestive (slutty) for me to ask him to come to my place since it was a 20 minute drive south of where we were, so I didn't ask him over for tea.  We stood in the parking lot kind of staring at each other for a few minutes because we had nothing to say.  Eventually, we said "Good night.", hugged and pecked each other on the cheek.  I so wanted to make out with him....and he was lucky they didn't have Pinball.


Update:

We text each other for a few days after the date.  I thought things were going well.  When I said that I wish I knew ASL, he told me that I could learn it.  I thought that was a good sign.  We weren't texting like mad like we did before the date but I wrote that off because we were both back to work.  One evening, we were texting and joking around.  He told me that I seemed very frisky and I replied that I tend to be that way.  (Before the date, I'd been laughing off his comments about sex because I didn't want to appear slutty.)  So now, I figured that we'd met and I could be a little more risque, so I added "I love sex and if an adult can't admit that, there's something wrong."  He laughed and said that was "Awesome."  The rest of the text conversation was like this:

me: Um, I wanted to kiss you on Sunday.

him: Why didn't you?

me: I didn't know if you would kiss me back.

him: I would have

me: [jokingly] Did you want to? ;)

[the sounds of crickets followed]

And that was the end of The Teacher.


Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Brown Sugar

I recently went on a date with a guy who said that he was 5'8" in his dating profile.  Normally, that would mean he was 5'6".  He was more like 5'4".  Why do men do that?  Did he think I wouldn't notice that he was at least an inch shorter than me?!

I will call him Ledge.

Ledge sent me an email that read like this: "You're yummy.  Can I have you?"  It made me laugh but I didn't answer him for a week or so.  He had a nice smile, complete with dimples.  Out of boredom one afternoon, I answered his email and we started to chat a bit.  He sells advertising for an ethnic website, which is kind of funny because he likes white chicks.  I was intrigued.  Ledge kept calling me "Baby" and stuff like that which somewhat put me off but I wrote it off as part of his gregarious personality.

Ledge and I decided to meet for drinks.  I decided to wear a dark blue, a-line jean dress, with red print tights and my burgandy John Fluevog Bondgirl boots.  I covered it with my black Boden raincoat.  My hair was cute and curly.  I took the LIRR into the City.  When I arrived, I text him that I was on my way over to the W Hotel on Broadway.  He worked nearby and told me that he was wearing a grey suit (at first I thought he said "Green" - yipes!!).  I said that I had on red boots.  As I got closer to the hotel, I saw him and noticed that he was definitely NOT 5'8".  When I stood next to him, I knew that he wasn't even 5'6" - like he said he was in a text when he asked me not to wear heels.  He should've invested in a pair of lifts or something.

Ledge seemed pleasant enough, so we went upstairs to the Atrium Lounge which was funky and had a nice crowd.  There were white leather couches and chairs in groups around the room and a few private areas off to the side.  We found a spot towards the back of the bar and we got settled.  He sat in a chair and I on the couch.  There was a menu of drinks on the table but he told me that he knew what he wanted - a Strawberry Martini.  Really?!!  I said that I was going to have club soda because I don't imbibe.  He kept trying to push fruit juice on me!  Weird.  When the waitress came over, we ordered our beverages of choice.  A few minutes later, she was back to say that they didn't have the strawberry vodka and gave him several other choices.  Ledge picked an Apple Martini.  Really?!  Then he asked her about fruit juices and was trying to push them on me again!!

Ledge and I chatted about a multitude of subjects and, of course, he asked me a bunch of questions about my job.  Then he went on about his job and his endeavors, which were actually pretty interesting.  The date was comfortable but I knew that I wasn't at all interested in seeing him again but the conversation was pleasant enough, so I stayed.  Besides, I had nothing else to do on a Monday night, so we chatted on and on.

I kind of noticed something weird about Ledge in the first 30 minutes or so.  He seemed to moved his jaw in a slightly strange way but I just wrote that off because his lower jaw was slightly more forward than normal.  Ledge and I ordered a couple more drinks and he moved onto the couch with me.  I wasn't thrilled about it but I kept enough distance between us so that I didn't give him the "Kiss me" vibe.

Ledge seemed to be a little tipsy but it wasn't annoying at this point, so we chatted some more.  I got up to use the Ladies Room and when I got inside I was bummed that I forgot my phone in my coat pocket.  I needed to update my girls!!  When I returned, he excused himself and went to the Men's Room, which provided me with the opportunity to tell my girls how short Ledge was.  My texts were met with "Hahaha" and "Oh no.".

Ledge returned and he sat back on the couch with me.  He seemed a bit more fidgety than before and I wanted to go but I couldn't figure out how to politely end our date.  I have such an issue with that!  We decided to go to grab some dinner and went to a place called Latitude 90 or something like that.  He said it was great and that he went there often.  By the time we got to the restaurant, he was ultra jittery and slurring his words.  He jaw was swinging like a Saloon door in the Wild West.  He kept rubbing his face and his little pink tongue kept darting out of his mouth which totally disgusted me.  We ordered dinner and I prayed that the food would be out quickly because I was now anxious to end this date.

Our meal quickly arrived and Ledge proceeded to put some orange mayo concoction on his burger and then took a big bite.  He chomped down, the burger split open, a piece of bacon popped out and ended up between his teeth.  Orange mayo was on his face and hands.  I was pretty grossed out by this point and basically done with my dinner - and the date.  Ledge gabbed on and on and then mentioned how he couldn't wait to go out again and how he wanted to travel with me.  He told me that he's going to fall in love with me and wondered if I was going to fall in love with him!!  Seriously?!!

Finally, the bill came, Ledge paid it and we were out the door.  Unfortunately, he felt the need to walk me to Penn Station.  On the way, he asked me more annoying questions about my job and made inappropriate comments about it.  We finally got to Penn Station and he, ugh, gave me a hug and tried to give me a lip kiss good bye.  I was quick to avoid such a horrific event.  I missed the train so I had to wait for about an hour for the next one.  I saw two friends and I was able to give them a quick run-down of my date and have a few laughs.

One final question:  Did Ledge think I didn't notice that he did cocaine in the bathroom?

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

I Love the Rain!!


1. When it rains, it's not a good day to do much outside, except splash around in
puddles and catch raindrops on your tongue.
2. When it rains, the sounds it makes when it falls onto my house and beats upon my
windows is calming.
3. When it rains, I look forward to the sound of thunder and the sight of lightening.
4. When it rains, I love how the air feels and smells so clean and fresh.
5. When it rains, I am at peace when the mist comes through my window and falls onto
my face
6. When it rains, it's possible to see a rainbow or two.




Thanks Marc, you were the muse of the day!!!

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Not So Tickled Pink

I was perusing a dating site one winter day and I saw a guy who seemed interesting.  According to his profile, he was an actor, a stuntman, liked to run and had a desk job.  Sounded good to me so I sent him an email with all sorts of witty reasons about why I should be a stunt girl.  I didn't hear back from him, so I wrote him off.  No big deal.

A couple of months later, I received an email from this chap and he apologized for not getting back to me sooner.  He just started a new job and he wanted to focus on it.  Understandable, not an issue, so I answered him.  We exchanged about a dozen emails and decided to meet.  He said that we’d get along like peas and carrots.  I replied, “I like peas and carrots, so these reasons:

1. I didn't want to waste precious brain cells communicating with someone for weeks who may turn out to be a dud.  I hate when that happens
2. I like to take off work even if it's for the lamest reason
3. If he's "the one", I wanted to start dating him asap to get him off the market

The Actor and I discussed what options we had available to us.  We had a big laugh because we'd both gone on dates to Rudy's in Hell's Kitchen.  (See "Date With The Yellow Hat").  In all his brilliance, this fella picked a Saturday night, AT 7pm, IN the Spring, IN the heart of the Theatre District, IN Midtown Manhattan.  Not my first choice since everything in the neighborhood is packed with theater-goers and tourists.  Shouldn't a seasoned actor know these things?

Regardless of his poor choice, I got casually dolled up in bootcut jeans, a white button down shirt, a yellow sweater and an adorable pair of green and brown suede shoes with an ankle strap by Fly London.  I topped it off with my light blue ¾ length Boden wool coat and carried my Louis Vuitton purse which contained a pair of green Converse All Stars (in case of pain).

I ran (as usual) to catch the LIRR and headed into The Big City for my date with The Actor.  He has a really funny name but I don't think it would be a good idea to mention it because I'm sure I'll get sued or something stupid like that.

At 7pm, I was standing somewhere in the 40s by 8th Avenue. Broadway shows generally begin at 8pm, so the streets were pretty crowded.  He text me while I was on the LIRR to say that there was a different schedule for the subway he took, so he’d be there a little late.  Not a problem for me to wait for my future boyfriend. 

I stood outside in the cool Spring air, near the brick over pizza place we had decided on and we sent texts back and forth about his progress from Brooklyn.  I was kind of excited to meet him because his pictures were kind of cute and he had a nice voice with a slight Texas accent.  His profile said that he was 5’11” and had a few extra pounds.  He said that he had a regular gig on a tv series but held a steady 9 to 5 job to pay the bills.  He wasn’t a very busy actor but the business is tough, so I gave him some slack.  I was actually more interested in his stuntman career since I have the habit of performing stunts without my own prior knowledge.

The Actor let me know that he finally got out of the subway and was walking towards me.  We joked about him being several different people and that I was the tall transvestite on the corner.  I looked eastbound and saw The Actor approaching me.  My first thought was “He’s not 5’11” and he’s has a little bit more than a ‘few pounds”.  He obviously ran as much (or as little) as I did.  Both aren’t deal breakers but he should face reality and get his height and weight checked on his next visit to the doctor.  Talent scouts notice that sort of thing, don't they?  As he got closer, I was, however, able to see that he was not my type just by his attire.  He wore jeans which were eh, a loud, long sleeve black and white print shirt, a pair of black dress shoes (with jeans?) and a long lightweight coat in a maroon/black marble print.  I’m not a fan of long coats on guys, especially when it’s a little shiny.

I decided to suck it up and keep an open mind because maybe he was a nice guy despite his outdated look.  Besides, I had nothing else to do.  There was a bit of a wait for a table (10 or 15 minutes) and he asked me if I wanted to sit at the bar to wait and I agreed.  On the way, he took it upon himself to decide that we’d sit at the bar and order food.   This was more of a service bar than seating for a first date.  He kept his coat on and barely faced me as he sat.  The Actor asked me if I liked pepperoni and I said “No. But I’m sure there are some interesting things on the menu.”  Helloooo – a pepperoni pizza at a brick oven pizza place?  Boring and cheesy.   We ordered a small pie with mushrooms and black olives which he ate as though he was on his way to "the chair'.  I got a soda and he ordered water.  He commented about how great it was that I don’t drink because bottles of wine were $30 and up.  He asked me if my purse was real.  As if I'd carry a knock-off from Canal St.  We sat and looked around one too many times.  For some reason this guy, who was pretty chatty online and on the telephone, suddenly lost his tongue.  It took a concerted effort for me to have a conversation with him.  Believe it or not, I was running out of subjects to discuss.  We ordered another pizza and, again, I watched him wolf it down with no manners whatsoever.  The busboy placed someone’s used breadbasket next to him to discard.  He took a piece of bread and spread some butter on it.  Really? I was praying to the gods that the staff realized that this was a first AND last date.

The bartender placed the bill on the bar.   “Finally”, I thought, “this date is wrapping up and I can get home and into bed.”  The Actor opened the folder up while I wasn't paying attention and saw the damage - a whopping $32.00.  He then started to "act" distracted by turning and looking away from the bar.  I got the feeling that he wanted to split the bill and I wanted to leave, so I said "How much do I ..."  but before I said "owe" he quickly answered "20 dollars."  Damn, if I knew he was so broke, I would've payed the whole bill.  

We made our way onto the street and I said that I was getting tired because I'd worked the night before.  He seemed to ignore me and he basically dragged me to 42nd St., to the movie theaters.  I was tired, my feet were hurting and I wanted to go home.  He was so not blister-worthy and I had no desire to sit in a theater with him for the following three reasons:

1. I can't stand movie theaters,
2. all of the movies sucked as far as I was concerned and
3. I did not want to spend anymore time with this cheap bastard.

Finally, I spoke a little bit louder and said "I'm really tired and I'm going to head home."  He said, "Okay.  I guess it doesn't make sense to pay $13 for a movie when you're going to fall asleep in it.  There's a subway around the corner."  He failed to notice the one in front of us and ignored me pointing out the closer, less painful route.  Fortunately, I had my Metrocard out because he darted down the stairs ahead of me and went through the turnstile without giving me a swipe.  On the second set of stairs, he did the same thing as a train was approaching.  He told me to hurry.  I was hoping he would get on it before the doors closed.  Grumble.  He did not.  So we stood there awkwardly and I said "It's ok.  There will be another one soon."  On the platform, he saw a girl that he used to work with and pointed her out.  I looked in her direction but made no effort to see who he was talking about.  "Huh," I said, "small world."

Happily a train pulled into the station but, alack, we sat there for a good 5 minutes with the doors open and made annoying small talk.  Suddenly, The Actor said, "I'm going to go say 'Hi!' to my friend." For some reason kissed me on the cheek and said "It was nice to meet you." before rudely leaving the car that I was standing in - ON 42nd Street,  IN NYC, AT 11:00pm.  What a gentleman!  I looked at the young cop who was watching this unfold and I said "What a douche."

When I got off the Subway, my feet were blistered and hurt so badly.  I remembered that I had my Chucks in my purse, so I decided to make a switch.  As I struggled to unbuckle the second shoe, a strange guy walked by and said "Nice shoes.  Are they Gucci." I politely smiled and said "No.  Fly London."  Gucci?!!  Even if I was able to afford Gucci shoes, they are definitely not my style.

Two weeks later, I got an email from The Actor.  I thought "Hmmmm.  Strange.  This should be interesting."  I opened the email and it said "Hi, I enjoyed meeting you but I've met someone else.  We've had a couple of dates and I want to see how it ends up."  Really?!!!!

Incidentally, the big stuntman role he had was running his fat ass naked down a street.  Stuntman, my ass.  I do more stunts walking down a staircase in the snow.