Picnic dates make me think of this poem. And these images are pure picnic bliss.
Monthly Archives: July 2010
Well, that just depends. Seriously though. The idea is not that far fetched. Nerve endings all over your ears.
I just like a nice ear cleaning. One time, I had to go to the doctor to get Q tip cotton removed from my ear. I’m not such a junkie anymore. But I tell you what, a couple minutes alone with a nice Q tip cleaning has easily trumped some dates. There. I said it. Sometimes I’d just rather clean my ears. Right after washing my hair.
So it’s true. I don’t always sit down to an awesome supper. I grew up with Dinner Time is Family Time. You sit at a table, you eat the food on your plate, you talk about your day and you ask to be excused. There was no TV, no radio, and in the teen years, sometimes no talking.
But being single and living in a studio where the coffee table is the kitchen table, the TV is 5 feet away, and I don’t even start cooking til 9:30, well, dinner time has become decidedly less formal, and I don’t always make a “meal.” Tonight, I made salsa and chips. And let me tell ya. It was good. And pretty healthy if not mildly incomplete, though it beats the Root Beer Float Summer of 2005, during which I seriously had a root beer float for dinner every. single. night. (I’m not the only one talking about Root Beer Floats tonight. Something’s in the air.)
I think most people have special “single” dinners. There’s a book of essays about this very thing: Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant. The Year of Spaghetti is my favorite. The winter sunlight imagery gets me every time.
I like dinners like this. They’re kind of like Breakfast for Dinner Night or Healthy Salad Night growing up. My family was strictly meat and potatoes, but every now and again we’d branch out with eggs and V-8 juice (for the vegetable) or a “light and healthy” salad buffet that consisted of romaine lettuce and every single cured meat and cheese from the deli piled on top. And homemade blue cheese dressing. My favorite though was when my dad went out of town or working late and my mom would make corn fritters (deep fat fried) and fried bread dough sprinkled with sugar. [Mmmmm. Fried bread. Sugar.]
If you have to know, I ate the entire bowl of salsa tonight while watching Friends reruns. With BLUE corn chips because I’m classy like that.
***10-minute later update***
I had to flush my eyes with cold water for 5 minutes because I took out my contact lenses with serrano chili residue on my fingers. That’s what I get for being smug about my single dinner.
The review copies for The Science of Single came to my office today. It’s been just about 4 years since I started the project. Long gestation time. It’s weird to see it so … final, and not 100s of pages of wrinkled paper laden with squiggly edits. This is the uncorrected proof. It will be on sale Jan. 4, 2011. I can only speak in short sentences because I’m so overwhelmed by this kid. I mean book.
This has nothing on gazing parties! Apparently, I was asleep when the first season aired. Second season starts Aug. 9 and I’m into it. I can’t say that I’ve ever tried this sort of thing and I’m quite sure I won’t. Ever. Physical connections are essential, but there’s something a little…wrong about this. Maybe because it reminds me of Rock of Love and Bret Michaels on a date in the dark with three different girls. Not pretty.
OK, back to The Bachelorette and poor, hot, confused Frank. And Ali, who is working it. I encourage it! (I’m not really a reality TV person. Really. Only at the gym. It’s the only thing on!)
Remember how I said I would never date online again? I lied.
I technically haven’t been on a date with someone I’ve met online lately. But I’ve been checking out plentyoffish.com. It’s not looking so good.
I’ve received some emails. They’re mildly disturbing. These PoF guys are lah-hay-zeee. For instance, you can send a “quick email” where the subject line is filled in for you. That subject line is “hi.” And these dudes will send an “email” and all it will be is “hi” in the subject line. They’ve done nothing except surf and click! I already feel ignored. Sometimes, they will put “how r u?” in the body text. That’s all. There is nothing to work with there. Nothing. Nada. Zero. They need one of these.
One guy actually had a great email–he responded to the essential things in my profile such as my love for Sam Cooke. But then I looked at his profile and it was entirely about the crazy dates he’s been on, and in essence, bashing the women he’s been out with. Now, it’s mildly hypocritical that I judge him on this because I did, indeed, do this very thing in my book (The Science of Single, out January 2011), but dude, not in an online profile. Come on bro!
The other kind of emails I’ve received are profile regurgitations, which is fine I suppose, but terribly unimaginative. And there’s nothing to respond to. When I send an email to someone I’m interested in (as I did this evening–wish me luck!), I comment on his profile, try to relate it back to something I do or think, and ask a question.Very important to ask a question. Because otherwise, the other person doesn’t have anything to respond to.
Soooooo, yeah. We shall see.
In other, blond-hair news, I’ve noticed a trend of older African American men on bikes riding up behind me and striking up conversation. It’s a very specific demographic and it has happened frequently in exactly the same way. It also just started to happen right after I had my locks lightened. Soooo, there it is. Is being blond more fun? Well. “Fun” might be a stretch. But I kind of like strangers talking to me. Makes me feel approachable. And these guys have been really nice. We usually talk about the weather. I like that. I’m into the weather.
I’m also into granola right now. This recipe is amazing. I added a little chili pepper to the batch tonight. Maybe I should throw some chili pepper on my lazy fishies.