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error code message o49R12XT50>>>>>>>

error o49R12XT50: code o49R1 Blog owner prohibited from posting due to melodramatic overload. >>>>
code 2XT: Quality Control bots blocking new entries to prevent further degredation>>>>
violation 50 owner sat in windowless office alone for 3 hours between classes>>> PROTOCOL NOT ALLOWED>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

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1.Send Owner to Beantown to mooch off her corporate sell-out friend and his expense account in luxury hotel
2. During execution of step 1, owner must be treated to fine dining and long car rides with loud music

WARNING!>>> Steps 1 &2 Aborted>>>Session follows: Owner did not complete movement from Brooklyn to Chinatown in time to catch the 10 pm Fung Wah Bus to Boston. Signage confusion occurred on subway transfer station from the A to the JMZ movement stalled. Directional Error on Center Street owner followed wrong path. Path correction towards Canal Street Manhattan Bridge Station timing off. Recommendation>>>>>Implement replacement happy fun times programming. DETAILS UNKNOWN.>>>>>>>>>>>>>

3. If problem persists after completion of Steps 1 and 2, try making owner return pastdue phone calls and emails to re-instate communications with caring persons.
>>> If steps 1-3 solve the problem, step 4 STILL REQUIRED. >>>>>>>
4. Send owner to Morrissey concert on 9 October
<<<<<WARNING If problem persists after completion of Step 4 then owner to be terminated and blog permanently shut-down>>>>>failure to recover after dose of Moz sign of terminal damage>>>>>>>>>

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I've been found out. Me and my big mouth blog. The irony is that this comes on the heels of the week in which I discuss the effect of my blog on my real life.

the horror I'm feeling over this just gets greater with each waking moment. All the words I wrote come rushing back to me in a nightmare flood, making me sick. Words no one should have to read about himself. Words that should never be made public, even in the imaginary realm of the internet where we think we can cloak the private in a shield of anonymity. I probably shouldn't be writing this either.

I just wanted to remember everything because I knew it might not ever happen again. Why in this medium? Because it was there. Because I'm a very lonely person who lives thousands of miles away from people who care about me. So I substitute the real human interaction I crave with this electronic one. Even if I can't see these other people, at least I know they are there. And I can pretend I have all thes wonderful friends who get so excited for me when something good happens, because in reality I am alone and no one cares. I'm just a sad crabby old maid with two cats.

That's why I'm so upset over this. I've lost a real person I cared about who could have been a great and long term friend. I sacrificed him on the alter of this blog. For the attention I guess. And because I needed to tell someone what happened, someone who would listen, someone who could validate this as a real experience and not a fantasy. I must have hurt and insulted him, which is the last thing I wanted to do. Me and my foolish hystrionic blatherings on the internet.

This may mean the death of this blog. But then I wouldn't even have my pretend friends and then where would I be? I don't know. I want to take it all back and make different decisions. But I can't. I just pray that I didn't matter much to him so that this was nothing more than a mere annoyance. I guess this shouldn't matter so much to me, everyone says just forget it, but I can't. And it does matter. A whole hell of a lot.

Come back for more TRUE stories of the strange, sad and pathetic exploits of me not having sex in the city.


Let's Play 'Ask me on a Date' Chicken

No. Really, can we not? But you've already challenged me, so now I have to play. I won't lose --I won't ask you out.

I hate dating mormons. In my experience they are either way too pushy or too passive, more often the latter. Not all mor-men fit into these categories of course, but enough that they are the only kind I've dated. The pushy ones are desperate to marry so they start talking about marriage after dating for one month. The passive ones understand that they have the upper hand so they sit back and wait for the perfect woman to come to them. These guys go to the dreadful dances and don't ask the women to dance. Women do most of the asking. Then they also ask the men out on dates. The guys grow to expect women to chase them. [This is a pattern I've noticed and heard repeated by others. I don't know that it's universally true.] I think because, for a lot of these women, if they don't chase down a man, their lives will be an empty waste. They were raised to believe that their sole purpose in life is to be a good wife and mother.

Well, you gotta get a man before you can serve that purpose. And if you don't chase the men, plenty of other Mor-women will. Women out number the men so you better catch one quick! We have more at stake in this dating game because this culture defines a woman's identity by her family. And we also have less time, only so many fertile years and if you get too old to be attractive then you need to start your cat colony. Mor-men can take their time if they so choose, and get married in their 30s to some sweet young thing in her 20s (she has to be young enough to bear lots of babies!) It makes for a bad dynamic when the single mormons get older: late 20s and up. It makes me sick. So I refuse to chase the lazy ones. If a man doesn't have enough interest in me to at least risk asking me out, then he's not worth my time.

I'm currently pissed off about this for a reason. I have a dear friend I grew up with. We're the same age and we're both single. He plays the field with the younger ladies. And he complains to me about their silliness. For example, the 21 year old made him a collage; yes, she made a collage out of photos and gave it to a 28 year old man. But she drives him mad insisting she just wants to have fun, nothing serious. Oh, but she had a fit when he didn't call her for two days! And he loves it, every stinking bit of it. I hope I can go to my grave knowing I never made a collage for a man I dated.

I still love my friend anyway. He's not the reason for this post. Last week I had to call him so he could translate a Mor-man email for me. I couldn't tell what this guy wanted. He said pleasant things about meeting me and sounded positive. But he wrote, "Hopefully our paths will cross again soon." ....??? What does that mean? Sounds like a blow-off to me, another way to say 'maybe I'll see you around sometime. Don't call.' But then he ended with, "Next time you're planning something adventurous, let me know, I'm there!" --What? He didn't give me his number, he didn't suggest a time, and that kind of vagueness translates to "no thank you ma'am, I don't want to see you again."

However, my buddy said the dude was definitely interested in me and wanted me to ask him out. Excuse me? He said he uses the same M.O. and it's typical. If he likes a girl at church he'll give her his number then tell her to call if she wants to hang out. To which I said, "That wouldn't work on me, I wouldn't call you." He replied, 'That's ok, plenty of women would.' Then he laughed.

Whatever. I'm annoyed. But, since I didn't give this guy any signals when we went out, he had no idea I was interested. His passiveness I could excuse the first time. So, I emailed him back and bluntly listed a few acceptable 'adventurous' city activities. Then I said my schedule was fairly open and gave him my phone number. On retrospect, the 'open schedule' comment was a mistake, he could have read it as, "I have nothing to do because I'm a desperate loser so please call me!" Maybe I just don't care about putting up a front because I took it for granted that he could tell I'm not a desperate loser. Anyway, he was supposed to take the bait, not start a freaking game of email dating chicken. Wasn't it humiliating enough that I offered myself up on a platter like that? Apparently not.

Oh, yeah! [insert Duffman pelvic thrust with that.] Coy boy served it right back to me in his reply. This time he wrote, "If/when we hang out next we should"...something facetious that made me laugh. But that's all he said about that. He challenged me again to ask him out, though just barely, almost tauntingly. It sounds like the words of someone who thinks he has me. I see how my email could have come across that way, but his first email asked me to ask him out. I merely replied to his request by telling him he could ask me out instead.
I should let it go. I should not email him, but now I want to win. It's not about getting a date anymore, it's about victory. He will ask me out. *

*Unless he 's waiting for me to chase him first, then he can wait for someone else. That won't take long. Anyone giving away some kittens?

Next Post: The Desert, There and Back Again

Come back for more TRUE stories of the strange, sad and pathetic exploits of me not having sex in the city.


Welcome to the Desert of the Real

*WARNING: This was a nerdy exercise,it's probably not a fun read.*

While considering ways to blog about a date/outing I had with people that I met through my blog, it struck me how very postmodern this whole business was. I was blogging about a date I had with someone I met through someone who read my blog about dating and I knew that some of those people (at least one for sure) would now read about that date and themselves on my blog, which would likely affect the way I wrote about it.

If you haven't had the misfortune to study Postmodernism, here's a quick and dirty primer (ok, not so quick):
It's by nature indefinable and affects every aspect of academia and culture. It's one of those, 'you know it when you see it' things [Duchamp, Warhol, John Cage, Schoenberg, Punk Rock, Anti-foundationalism and Deconstructionism, Le Pompideu Centre(the building), amusement parks, video games, Bladerunner...,]. "The Matrix" was a Hollywood description of our postmodern fears. The writers of the script were well versed in pomo literature. (Check out the title of the book where Neo hides his contra-band diskettes.)

Some pomo fears relevant to this discussion follow. Simulacra (i.e. videos, VR, internet, etc.) are taking the place of real things. We're now the gods of an electronic universe (cyberspace) filled with simulations of the real universe. We've transcended the world of real objects and now conduct much of our business online, where nothing is real. Or is it? The term 'navel-gazing' is a good word for PoMo phenoms. Pop culture becomes increasingly more self-referential, (TV shows that refer to themselves as TV shows, like the Simpsons often do.) 'Reality TV shows' are the ultimate in PoMo, distorting both reality and TV. We are in danger of losing the distinction between the real and the unreal, so much so that sometimes we can't tell what is real anymore (i.e. The War of the Worlds scare).

Our simulations of reality have become so powerful that reality is now simulating the simulacra (i.e. real life Pac Man played in Manhattan, online relationships moving into real life, people imitating their TV-movie heroes) and even worse, simulacra are now simulating other simulacra, like movies about video games and vice versa. We've entered a rabbit-hole where the simulations of reality have now really distorted reality, and begun an infinite regress of distortion and simulation. Like two mirrors facing each other, Simulacra mirrors Reality which then mirrors simulacra mirroring reality mirroring simulacra mirroring reality mirroring simulacra.....

Enter my blogosphere generated real life date.

The postmodern nature of this date is a total head-trip. Check this out. I began publishing my memories of real life dating experiences online. My mental impressions of real events have been simulated digitally in blog form. Other people read the simulacra of my memories and then form their own mental copies of the simulation of my memory of my real life experience.

That was just a PoMo description of blogging, here comes the complicated part.

Because of my internet blogging activities I 'meet' other people online. We have no real life interaction, just email and blogging comments. Then, one reader of my blog-about-dates invites me on a real date with one of his real friends. So I go out and meet in real life this stranger that I first met in cyberspace. (My simulacra world has now spilled into my real world). We have a real nice time. Then I go home to blog about the date, so I can create a simulacrum of this real event. However, I know that the people who experienced that same real event will read the simulacrum of it. This knowledge affects the way I report the event online.

My current actions of blogging my memories are now changed by the fact that the people who shared an event with me in the past will read my representation of it in the future and have their memories of the event changed by incorporating with it their impressions of the simulacrum of my memory of the same event. (Are you lost yet?)

This fact matters to me because these people are now part of my real life. And things in my future could be affected for better or worse by how I blog this now (the simulacra of my past could change my real future.) For example, if my post offends everyone or anyone who was there then that might hurt my chances of getting another date in the future. (Not that I have anything offensive to say, this is hypothetical.) So the way I choose to electronically represent the past date could impact my real dating future.

To recap: I simulate online my past dating experiences with my blog and that caused me to have a real life date which caused me to simulate that date online which could cause changes in my real dating future; this knowledge causes changes in my blogging of the event which causes further distortions in the simulacrum of that event. So I've created a twice distorted simulation of a real event in order to manipulate my real future.

Welcome to the Desert of the Real.

Come back for more TRUE stories of the strange, sad and pathetic exploits of me not having sex in the city.


My Bloggernacle Blind Date

As Steve mentioned in the comments below, no major catastrophes ensued so I cannot entertain everyone with stories of horror. But there are other interesting aspects to this.

Last Saturday night I met 5 people(2 married couples and my date) in the Lower East Side for dinner, all mormons and all strangers. The idea was for me to meet this other bloggernacker's friend. [For those of you who don't know, the LDS(mormon) online blog community has dubbed itself the 'Bloggernacle'.] These two guys met each other in college but Steve up and got himself married thus leaving his buddy behind. I think his guilt for this act of disloyalty still haunts him so he's trying to get his friend married off too.

Steve emailed me and asked if I was interested in going on a blind date. I found the idea of a blind date a novel one and had no reason to decline. He arranged the whole thing. We had yummy grilled cheese sandwiches and then went for some Chinatown ice cream: Good food, good ice cream(I had the ginger flavor), good conversation, it was a successful night. My date is a nice guy with two degrees and a job! He behaved politely and was also good for a laugh or two.

I was surprised when one of the women said it was time to go home at 10:30! I never go out with married people so I had to assume that's a normal behavior. Then I remembered that married people have 'stuff' they can do at home on Saturday night. Going home to my cats with a few more hours of Saturday night to kill isn't very appealing to me, but, I understand. Had I someone to go home with I might not want to hang out in the village all night long either.

I've already heard from the young man, via email of course. That's content for another post.

Next up: "Welcome to the Desert of the Real"

Come back for more TRUE stories of the strange, sad and pathetic exploits of me not having sex in the city.


A note on the template changes

Haloscan deletes comments after 4 months unless you upgrade. So in this new template I've enabled blogger comments. Because I love ya'll so much and all the fun comments you've left, I'm attempting to copy and paste all the comments into blogger. That's why it says there is only one comment. If you look at them, you'll see all the old comments there. I'm going back as far as I can and it's a pain in the rear. Also, please be patient while construction is going on. Thanks! And keep your comments coming. Especially if you have any suggestions for ways to improve the look and user-friendliness of this blog.

Come back for more TRUE stories of the strange, sad and pathetic exploits of me not having sex in the city.


Rejection Round-up

So I'm feeling sorry for myself, and I'm going to indulge in that. Here is a list of the men who have rejected me and the reasons why. The order is chronological from the most recent down.

Uturd: He said it's because I don't work out and he doesn't like my cat, but I think he was afraid of me.
Russian: A prof from another school I asked out via email in a moment of insanity. Ouch.
Kyle: Said our friendship was too important to risk on a romance
George: We had broken up already so things were off but still on (long story). Then he got married.
Vince: Ran away from me whenever we were in the same room so I never got to hear his reason. Although it probably had something to do with the psycho phone call I made while messed up on cough syrup. You yell at someone's voicemail once....sheesh!
George: He said he didn't know what he wanted and was confused. Since I was moving to NY and he was 23 I let that slide. (I had big plans for us that he just didn't know about yet.)
David: Wanted to get back with his ex-girlfriend/best friend and told me this at a Valentine's Dance. (Yes, a church one)
Slick: My best friend and her boyfriend tried to set us up and we met but he said I wasn't his type.
George: One year earlier, he's an RM. I talk and flirt with him at a dance, he just turned and walked away without a word.
Jewish: I wasn't jewish and he was afraid I wanted to convert him
Sleazy: Decided to move back to Florida to shack up with his ex-girlfriend. I didn't really fit in the picture anymore but he still wanted to make-out before he left. I was young and stupid...
George: Two years earlier, I started flirting and talking to him at a dance but he told me he was going on a mission.(Same Matt as above)
Randy: My best friend's friend's best friend. They both wanted to set us up but since it didn't happen I assume he nixed the plan.
Italian Ska-boy Muslim: Very hot! I'm not sure he even knew I wanted him, but he did offer to set me up with The George. (Before we even met)
Redneck: Because I wasn't willing to quit school so we could get married, and I didn't shave my legs for him--he decided I was trashy and unfit to be a wife and mother. I'm lucky I escaped that one!!!
GaTech Frat Boy: Never called me back after he was my date to a college dance. (I asked him)
The Physical Trainer: Stood me up on the date I asked him out on
The DJ: Stopped returning my calls. I think because he met someone who was easy.
Some guy my mom's friend set me up with. Never heard from him after our 'date'. Surprise Surprise.
My first boyfriend (high school): We were both too shy to even kiss so after 6 months he called it off, terribly breaking my heart. I pined for him for the next three years...we stayed friends.

That takes us back as far as memory should go. There were many more I pursued that came to nothing but I've forgotten them.

Come back for more TRUE stories of the strange, sad and pathetic exploits of me not having sex in the city.