The Facebook Fool

After two years of dating a dude that turned out to be a dud, it was time to hit the single scene once again. Oaktown and I met at a Captain and Moustaches birthday pubcrawl. Four bars and a rousing rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody later, we’re in front of The Mint making out like teenagers. Oaktown hails from the city of Oakland, is a self-proclaimed chef extraordinaire, close to his fam, funny and all in all a great dude. Or so I thought.

After a few weeks of dating and make-out sessions, my curiosity got the better of me and I did a little facebook stalking. Lucky me, his profile was open for all to see. The first few posts were innocent enough and there was even a reference to a joke we’d shared over text. Scrolling to status updates from a week back, things started looking weird. There were references to a she, that wasn’t me, and even a girlfriend mention in the comments.

When asked to explain, the best he came up with was that 1. he is a horrible person, 2. there are tasks to get through before the official end of them, which he gave an ETA of 2 weeks and 3. things are on and off again and he never sees her. Nevertheless, this girl is no mistress and not a fan of cheaters so I said adios to Oaktown and left him with a piece of advice: If you’re going to play, at least take advantage of those FB privacy settings. You never know who’s watching.

Chemistry

So it's been awhile since our last post. It's been busy with the budding of a few new relationships. More on those coming soon. In the meantime, nosh on this blog post I found at QuirkyAlone, an interesting movement that focuses on romance and the ideal of holding out for the right one. More on the movement here: http://quirkyalone.net/index.php/about-2/quirkyalone/

Advice on figuring out chemistry below:

Dear QuirkyAlone, I have gone out on 4 dates with a guy. We have a great time together, but I’m not feeling any chemistry. Is chemistry always an instant feeling or can it come along later? –Aimee

Hi Aimee,

Thanks for your classic question. A key tenet of Quirkyalones (or Quirkytogethers!) is that we enjoy spending time on our own, and so we won’t commit to any romantic relationship unless our partner really makes us go, “Wow!” Not as in, “Wow, I can’t believe how long his nose hair grows,” but rather, “Wow, how did I get so lucky to meet and connect with this person who makes me all tingly and goofy?” For Quirkyalones, chemistry is a must–but what is it, and how do we recognize it?

Like all classic questions, this one is difficult and has no clear answer, except for maybe “It all depends,” which I won’t say because that’s the world’s most annoying response (albeit always the truest). So let me break “It all depends” down into some arbitrary specifics for you. I believe that there are approximately three kinds of “chemistry”:

Type 1 Chemistry: Slam-click at first sight.

Type 2 Chemistry: Slam-click after a series of interactions, where you recognize attractive aspects of the person that were not apparent at first sight, and respond to them emotionally or physically.

Type 3 Chemistry: Intermittent giddy feeling that stems from recollections of and references to a long history together and which could not be provided by a recent love interest (think of a couple celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary walking on the beach hand in hand). We will not discuss Type 3 in this post.

In your situation, it’s not a bad thing that you didn’t immediately feel the SLAM-CLICK of Type 1 Chemistry. However, I think that four dates is probably enough time to start SLAM-CLICKing in the style of Type 2, where you discover that your date has a great laugh and a fascinating knowledge of 18th century Czech watercolors, and you can barely keep your hands off him whenever he tells a Tuvia Beeri anecdote. If this doesn’t happen, then you might have made a new friend, but not a Chemical friend. If you really want to click with your date, but you don’t feel the Chemistry, try giving him chances to generate that connection. For example, if you admire artistic men but the last time he touched an easel was with fingerpaints, don’t just assume he can’t match your interest. Ask him to a paint-your-own-pottery studio and see how he engages with the project. He may surprise you!

I would be more concerned if you said you had instant chemistry from the very second you first bumped into each other at the gallery. This Type 1 Chemistry is fun, but you should take it with a grain of salt. Here’s why: it’s hard to tell the difference between a real connection and a connection manufactured by your brain’s subconscious reaction to the other person’s smell, look, voice, and mannerisms. For example, you exchange hellos with Steve and immediately like him. A lot. What are you basing your opinion on? Your subconscious brain carries a plethora of data it uses to make sense of the world, which it then feeds to your reasoning mind. To give a simplistic example: Steve’s nose might resemble the nose of a beloved aunt who died when you were four years old. Your subconscious remembers your aunt’s face and tells your thinking mind, “A nose like this once belonged to a nice person who gave me cookies,” but the message garbles in translation to your conscious, which hears, “Steve has a nice nose–I can’t wait to eat his cookies.” SLAM-CLICK. It’s a powerful illusion. Enjoy it, but don’t expect it to inevitably carry over into Type 2 Chemistry, which is what you want if you’re aiming for a long term relationship.

If any readers out there *are* feeling Type 1 Chemistry, don’t panic. It might be for real! Test it: Try to articulate why you are drawn to this person. List certain attributes that appeal to you, rather than “She makes me feel all giddy, full stop.” For example, “She makes me feel giddy because she can untangle a Gordian knot,” bodes well. “She makes me feel giddy because of something about her,” might also bode well, but it could just as easily bode badly. It all depends.

–Christina

Original post from here: http://quirkyalone.net/

The PickUp Artist, Part 1

On any given night, single girls in this other city have a melee of choices at the bar. You know of whom I speak. There’s your hipsters, farmer browns, financials, bad boys, wannabe’s, and even the B & T’s… You don’t necessarily look for Mr. Right, but hope you don’t meet another Mr. Absofuckinglutelywrong.

But when out at the bars, there’s one special type of man that you’ll continually encounter. This man gets his dating advice from other men wearing fuzzy hats and goggles. Yes ladies, I speak of the PickUp Artist and here’s part one of a how to on spotting them:

Rule 1: The Neg

One evening, Kim and I were hanging out at new Polk hotspot, Kozy Kar. It was early in the week and the place was nice and empty. In walks a group of boys, collared shirts, dress pants and general rowdiness hinting at their financial district background. The boys start walking over to our side of the bar, one catches my eye and immediately starts in with his line:

PU Artist: Nice hat. Seriously, that's the nicest hat that I've seen on a girl tonight. (Pause) Too bad your shoes are kinda lame"

Me: Excuse me? I think my shoes are pretty ok.

PU Artist: (Proceeds to lift my foot, points to my shoe) Umm, are you sure about that?

Me: (Yanking foot out of his hand, scooching over on the couch to distance myself)

PU Artist: (Not getting message) Oh I get it, you borrowed your hat from your stylish friend over there (Points to Kim).

Me: (Eye roll, turn my back to him)

PU Artist: (Scooches closer and proceeds to put arm around me)

Me: Don’t touch me.

PU Artist: What? (Truly perplexed look on face) Why aren't you talking to me? The pickup artist said this would work!

Me: It's not working! (Jump up almost onto Kim and exit bar before PU artist goes for Rule 2)

And that ladies, is the Neg. Compliment one thing and then diss another with the hope that it will spark interest and attraction. Smart ladies unite and when you hear a man use this strategy, go tell them to fuck themselves, please. Otherwise, how will they know that it doesn't work?

PickUp artists of the world be warned. We know you're out there and we're watching...

The New Yorker

Thousands of miles away from home, Arianna was swaying to the music, barefoot at her 3rd beach party of the day with her fifth cerveza in hand. She spotted a cutie across the room and eyed him over. They danced, drank, laughed and one thing led to another as these international trysts usually do.

Turns out the cutie was also an American, a New Yorker in fact. Arianna had plans to visit in a few months so they exchanged information. Fast forward three months of hot emails, texts and web cam action and they're finally face to face at a bar in the East Village. After another few drinks, the New Yorker whisks her off to his phat apartment in Gramercy Park.

The next morning, she's in the shower when he pops his head in. She's thinking he might bring up the fact that she "forgot" to tell him about her period or maybe he's coming in for a hot morning quickie. What she didn't expect was for him to poke his head in the door and say, " Hey, when you're done with your shower, don't forget to squeegee the glass, ok."

Nice apartment, hot body, but talk about OCD. As she skipped the squeegee then skipped out of there faster then a New York minute, Arianna did have a parting thought: "Damn. You're worried about your shower - you should look at your sheets!"

Alas, when you have a body like the one below who'd blame a girl for keeping in touch.

The Heroes

We'd just finished a 2 day backpacking trip up in Lassen Volcanic Park and were eager to get a head start on getting home. We were assured by our fellow backpackers that it was an easy loop back to the trailhead where our cars were parked. So with no map or compass, 4 brave or silly girls set off to find their way home through the woods.

As these stories always go, we took a wrong turn in the woods and the easy 40 minute stroll turned into a grueling 3 hour hike to nowhere. Realizing that we could either hike back 6 miles to our car with heavy packs, no food & water or find some kind strangers that would take pity on us and drive us back to our original trailhead, we opted for the latter.

After explaining our plight to the first group of backpackers we saw, trail-code prevailed and three boys in the group agreed to take us. Two of us stayed in the parking lot and two of us rode out for what we thought was going to be a short ride to our car. We couldn't have been more wrong.

Hour 1: We went the complete opposite direction from our original trailhead and ended up driving half way around Lassen (which is not a small park by any measure) before finally stopping at a park ranger station to pick up a real map.
Hour 2: Even with the map, we mistakenly turned down dirt paths with rocks big enough to easily pop tires and ditches big enough to swallow the Saab Aero we were rolling in.
Hour 3: We finally find our car at the original trailhead, drive back to pick up our friends and jet to the nearest town for burgers and beers.

Honestly, we were completely at the boys' mercy and they really could have left us at the side of the road or done much worse. But our Lassen heroes really came through for us that day, regaling us with stories from their previous misadventures with San Francisco girls and entertaining us with tunes from their friends band. So here's to you our Lassen heroes for being super nice and saving the day. Check out the video of their up and coming band, Drop Motion. The two drummers are two of the three that were in the car.



And now, a few words of advice for other city girls venturing into the woods:
1. Always carry a detailed map and compass or take a GPS.
2. Don't break off from the group unless you know exactly where you're going.
3. The talking to strangers rule is null and void in desperate situations, but use your common sense.

The Dancer

It was the July 4th weekend and I had a hot date with this cutie I'd met at Harlot the weekend prior. Everything was set for some good times. We got tea at Samovar in the Castro, rode his scooter up to Olive, then rode his scooter around the city until we came upon the mighty mecca of San Francisco karaoke bars, The Mint. It was Saturday, there was a long wait and it was clear that the boy did not want to leave until he got to sing his song. Since we'd already discussed our history's from birth to present in the previous 6 hours of the date he began showing me YouTube video's he'd created in his spare time.

Previously, he'd told me he was a pop & lock hip hop dancer so he was eager to show me one of his dance video's. Here is what I saw:



Needless to say, I almost lost my shit.

To his credit though, he's a great kisser. But after the video, it was all too clear that this one was going in the friend bucket.

The Wrestler

Ladies, this next entry is dedicated to the devoted wing women we have in our lives...and for all the sh*thead friends they have to suffer through so that we may get to know their “friend” – for that night at least.


Below is a recap I had with said sh*thead friend a few saturdays back:


W: So can I ask you something?

Me: Whatsup?

W: So like, do you wrestle??

Me: WHAT?? Haha (hmm attempted humor?? Not sure yet…)

W: Seriously, like do you wrestle?? Because you look like you could really throw down and just be like so focused and...yea, throw down!

Me: (Ok, I think he may be trying to banter…I’ll play along) Umm...no I don't wrestle, but I’ve been known to kick box and I could kick YOUR ass in a heartbeat.

W: Oh yea!!! I know you could….I mean, so seriously do wrestle? (Beginning to jump up in down in seat and visibly get excited)

Me: Do you?? (W T F*CK!?! This must be his witty way of telling me he wants to get it on…no thank you. No thank you if you were the last man standing, no thank you.)

W: Yes I do. I mean, I haven't YET because I've been waiting for a worthy opponent…and I think I just found one…

Me: (Visuals of him jumping on the table and ripping his shit Hulk style flood my mind and my looks of horror must have precipitated his next response…)

W: Ohh my god...did I just make it awkward!??!! (Begins to punch himself in the face) Oh my god, I didn't mean to make it awkward...I really meant it as a compliment...like you just look strong…and like if you wrestled you could really throw down.

Me: (Poking bar companions and jets the bar – 2 minutes FLAT).


The next morning I heard a bit of feedback from my friend from the sh*thead:
"I think your friend might think I’m weird…”

The takeaway ladies is this: as wing women, sometimes we just have to throw down.