Silverbacks - Hunt or be Hunted

No, I'm not talking gorillas.

I'm talking about finally having a male version of the ever so popular "cougar."  Older men have been hunting and bedding younger women for YEARS.  We finally have a name for the guys who do it.

Pass it along, because this is happening.

What's a Girl Gotta do to get a Little Love?

eHarmony was a bust.  Again.

Plenty of Fish turned out to be gross.

I swore off Match.com last year.  Or, was it the year before?

OkCupid was nixed as soon as I was forced to listen to hipsters at an open mic night.~

And, I'm pretty sure that it was Chemistry.com who matched me up with a peer from high school.  Sure, it gave me a reason to laugh while closing down the account, but that's about it.

Maybe it’s because I had nothing else to do on a Tuesday night or maybe it’s because my thirties are getting to me, but I decided to pull out all the stops and go back to my tried and true way of meeting men – Craig’s List.*

I posted once before heading to bed.  I knew there was a chance of inappropriate photos, so I decided to check my e-mail before work.  My posting was flagged and removed, which seems to happen every time I have a lapse in judgment and head back to good ol’ CL.  So, I opted to repost before work and not touch it again until after work.^

Holy smokes.  There were freaks.  Not to mention a married guy looking for a friend and someone else trying to set up a friend for a double date.  There were guys old enough to be my father.  I’m even pretty sure that there was one high school student.  But, the ultimate response was from “anonymous.”~~

I don’t have high expectations.  A girl can dream of meeting a guy at some point during 2013, which may lead to at least one hot make out session.**

~I was talked into going to an after hours work event with one of my managers and a vendor.  Who knew that an unsuspecting dive bar would be swarmed with hipsters for an open mic night?  Not.  Us.

*Yes, apparently, it’s a thing that people are still doing.

^One more time from the top - 31 (Inner NW)

I posted last night, but was flagged and removed. I don't know what to say other than I'm a real person who's looking for an actual connection in the internet age, so let's try this one again from the top. Here's my original positing (thank you in advance for not flagging it):

TAP. TAP. TAP. Is this thing on???? - 31 (Inner NW)

I don't know if anyone reads these things any more. A few years ago I used Craig's List to find furniture, roommates, and social activities. I can't remember the last time I actually used Craig's List for anything. However, the website that want my money are full of people with great personalities that I don't want to see naked, and the other free websites are packed with the folks who don't even want to know my name before they jump into my bed. In short, it's just not working out.

Maybe it's me or maybe it's the guys I've met in Portland, but they just don't do it for me.

I want a guy who's smart and kind of cute, kind of sexy, very funny, but not funny looking. We're talking about a guy who eats meat and doesn't use a bicycle as his primary mode of transportation -- the kind of guy who doesn't have skinny jeans or an ironic mustache.

Ideally, he'd be able to handle everything from the random movie quotes that spill out of my mouth to my snarky and smart alecky comments. Needless to say, the filter between my brain and my mouth is still a work in progress. Luckily, I can take it just as good as I can dish it out, so whether he's an opinionated republican or a nice liberal boy, we'll likely get along just fine.

Okay, I'll admit it; I'd like to meet someone who knows how to make his biting sense of humor and lack of a social filter work for him, because I'm sure that the more I got to know him, the more I'd realize that he's the funniest person I know. Sure, his social commentary might not always be new or refreshing, but his impression of the gay hipster who is in denial of being both gay and a hipster can make me laugh every time.

The truth is that I'm over educated and over worked. I have a hard time turning my brain off. I don't have adulthood figured out -- yet. I don't have kids. I don't smoke. I'm not 420 friendly. I don't drink often, but when I do I drink like a fish. I like to travel. I'm not religious. I watch way too much television (everything from History Detectives to How I Met Your Mother and Match Game). I have opinions about everything from Vera Katz to Sam Adams, Sam Adams to Rogue Ales, and Rogue to Wolverine (although the latter would probably just be made up). And, even though I was born and raised in Oregon, I'm still trying to find where I fit in while in Portland.

I could be in better shape, but I'm not fat, big and beautiful, or even height weight proportionate. I'm simply on the thicker side of average, but still -- I'd like to find someone with broad shoulders and stocky build that can't keep his hands off my curves.

And, most importantly, I'm ready to meet him already!

~~The punctuation and spacing are all original:

no it is your feminism that has gotten you and us men to this point,

you women have done this to yourselves, and feminism is the cause.

you all wanted independence and all that other feminist bullshit. so now you are nothing more than a piece of meat.

because you all get everything and we don't get anything out of the deal. so we play along long enough to get what we need out of the deal (pussy)

and we flake you off. because you are not worth the stress, money, time, and emotional bullshit we have to deal with in the hopes of getting some pussy.

hookers are cheaper and we don't have to listen to their mouths constantly bitching about everything.

so now you are all saying we cant get laid so we are just not having anything to do with you period.

if you bitches want a relationship you are going to start having to give us something too. end of story. we are not going to play the game your way anymore. get it?

so now it's going to be our way or the highway. take a good look around women all over are bitching because the men are doing this. why do you think that might be?

see above statements on feminism. take your feminism and shove it up your ass's. we will not play anymore.

**Mama has needs.  Please let there be at least one make out session!  At.  Least.  One.

It's Sucking my Will to Live

Yes, I'm talking about work.

The last thing I want to hear from one of my managers and a coworker - completely independent of each other - after I put in a 50+ hour week, including nights and weekends, is that I should put in more hours.

I might understand their comments if I was a habitual time waster, had a major project in the works, or even if I wasn't efficient.  But, I work through lunches and skip on pretty much all of my coworkers'  bi-daily coffee runs (including the advice giver), I just wrapped up a major project about 10 days ago, and I've been known to do things like update reports in 45 minutes that others couldn't or wouldn't do in several months.

It sucks, but it's more than the ridiculous and unnecessary time demands.  It's the conflicting advice that is coming at me from all directions:

A coworker labeled as a sourpuss suggested to always show up to work happy, "You don't want to be labeled a grouch, like me."

Whereas the coworker who suggested that put in more hours went on to encourage me to "be more even keeled" and not be so cheerful at work.*

After all of that and passive aggressive comments from the same manager about "leaving early" (aka on time, after I worked through lunch and actively put in over nine hours that day), I feel one thing - exhausted.

It doesn't help that I had been stressing myself out and making myself sick with worry about completing the big project on time.  So, I've been taking a sick day here, and a sick day there.

Last week the other big news around my department was that - although we should use our sick time if we are sick - we need to keep in mind that the higher-ups in the department are tracking who uses sick time on Mondays and Fridays.

I pointed out during a team meeting that I've been using sick time for doctor's appointments.  I was instructed not to do it.  (Actually, it was more like a collective, "NOOO!" from the above referenced manager and the four other people on the team.)

Ugh.  Seriously.  This kind of information would have come in handy a year ago.

It all makes me so tired.  So very tired.

So very exhausted.


*This particular coworker also suggested that I be more serious at work.  Within ten minutes of this conversation she was throwing handfuls of paperclips at another coworker.

For Serious, I Really am a Card Carrying Feminist

Despite the fact that I'm the same feminist to tried to encourage others to laugh through the pain with a Dave Attell joke,* I would still consider myself a feminist.^

But, I just received an invitation to a "Goddess Party."  I'm supposed to bring a show and tell item - something that "makes you proud to be a woman" - to this shindig.  It's going to take every ounce of my better judgement to prevent me from bringing: 1) a box of tampons, 2) a vibrator, or 3) the South Park episode where Cartman thinks he gets his period and establishes a goddess club.**

Okay, maybe I should have named this post, "Reason 479 Why I'm not Allowed in Public."


*Q: What do you tell a woman with two black eyes?
  A:  Nothing she's already heard twice.

^I was a Women Studies minor.  (Yeah, okay I waited to declare the minor until I had about three glasses left to fulfill the requirements.)  I took a short, guided tour through the lesbian neighborhood.  (It lasted about six months, and I still blame being bored in New Hampshire.)

**Are you There God, It's me Jesus.

A Blast From the Past

I've lived in my current apartment for close to 18 months, and I have at least four boxes that I have yet to unpack.  For the most part, they're full of crafts.

The past few months have been full of work.  Not only do I spend 45-50 hours at work, but then I come home and study for tests that I'm encouraged to take for - you guessed it - work.  My next test is scheduled in five days, so I've been going all out.  

Tonight I wrapped up a 642 page prep book.  Tomorrow I'll start on the nine practice exams I have yet to tackle.  However, I'm done studying for the night, which is why I decided it'd be a perfect time to do something like change the two light bulbs that burnt out earlier this week.  While digging around in my junk cabinet,* I came across one of those boxes I haven't unpacked.

What's the best way to procrastinate?  Do things that you've been meaning to do, but have been neglecting - like laundry, dishes, or unpacking a random box.

That wonderful little bankers box was full of all sorts of high school memorabilia.  We're talking student body cards, certificates of recognition, old love letters, and so, so many photos.  

Here's what I learned from my own personal time capsule: 

5)  I was a big, big freak in high school.

4)  I was convinced that I was hilarious, but I'm not so sure about it now...

3)  The mid- and late '90s were not kind - fashion wise - to small town Oregon.

2)  Over the past 15 years I've been working to shed my pack rat ways, but for some reason I've moved the junk in that box over 6,400 miles.^

1)  My streaked hair - black, blond, red, sometimes orange - didn't look so bad.

*I live in a studio and have so much junk (e.g., potting soil, pots, light bulbs, etc.) that a single drawer will never be enough.

^The number would have been higher if I hadn't stored it during the other 16,472 miles.

JD Receptionist Part Deux

As you may know, I started with my company as a temp at the front desk.  Within three months they had hired me as a permanent employee, but then I was locked into that position for a year.  I finally moved into a new position the beginning of this year, and I’m still getting used to the novel idea of working (and not messing about in NASA’s various Flickr Photostreams) during work hours.

One of our regular receptionists is currently away on her honeymoon, so they brought in a temp.  I’ve had several people tell me that I started a run of over educated people working at the front desk, because this temp also has his JD.

When I was at the front desk, I was a little embarrassed by the fact that I had my JD and I was doing an administrative job.*  No matter how bad I felt for myself, I feel a little worse for this guy.

He graduated from law school in 2010 after being kicked out for a term (his grades slipped below the minimum average), passed the bar in the spring of 2011, but didn’t pass the ethics portion of the bar (it’s a separate test that most people take during law school) until this year, so he’s been licensed to practice for about four months now.  Since then he’s had one legal job interview, so he’s seriously considering teaching English in South Korea for the next year or two – like his brother – just to have a job to start paying down his student loans.

I had never spoken to this guy before today, and I learned all of this in about ten minutes.  He may just be an over sharer or I may just be a great listener, but I couldn’t help but think of the two times that I’ve seriously over shared with people who are barely acquaintances.^  I remember the tidal waves of frustration, anger, despair, and disbelief.  I don’t miss those days.

If I’ve done the math correctly, this guy is two years younger than I.  However, he seems so, so young and I do not envy the major life changing decisions he’s about to make.

*I wasn’t embarrassed about the work or think it was below me.  (Dreams and moonbeams weren’t going to pay my bills…)  However, I was embarrassed by what I assumed other people thought of me.

^Number one was during undergrad.  I was working at 7-Eleven and the TA from one of my photography classes came in and made the mistake of asking me how I was doing.  I unloaded on him.  My dad had had a stroke two months earlier, and was still hospitalized.  I was supposed to study abroad in Greece and had already invested thousands of my Slurpee pouring, hotdog selling, and beer hawking money into what was supposed to be my first grand adventure.  I was torn between going and staying.

Law school ushered in number two.  While sitting by myself in the student lounge area, my socially awkward Legal Research TA happened upon me.  He made the mistake of asking how I was doing, and the floodgates opened.  I had just moved over 3,000 miles to the opposite coast.  I had gone from urban Portland, Oregon to rural Concord, New Hampshire.  My law school (Franklin Pierce Law Center, which is now University of New Hampshire School of Law) was one of the only two stand alone law schools in the nation (the other is the John Marshall Law School in Chicago, Illinois, which is now the last stand alone school.  Anyway, there were only about 350 students in my entire school between the JD and graduate programs.  I hated most of my classes.  The one class that I was pumped to take – Legal Writing – was crushing my will to live.  I hadn’t made any real friends, and I was SO sexually frustrated.  Again, I was torn between going and staying.

Okcupid, You’ve got a Touch of the ‘tard in You

I’ve already deactivated one account on Okcupid, but I was later talked into signing up again.

After conversations with douche bags, guys who cancel dates the day of and want to reschedule, 18-year-olds, and most recently Captain Observo* - I think I’m over it.  Again.

* Aug 4, 2012 – 9:48 p.m. he wrote:

Baby, where’d you get your body from? Tell me, where’d you get your body from? Baby, where’d you get your body from? Tell me, where’d you get your body from?  I got it from my mama I got it from my mama I got it from my mama I got it, got it, g-got it

Aug 6, 2012 – 6:05 p.m. I wrote:

I do enjoy some will.i.am.

Aug 6, 2012 – 8:51 p.m. he wrote:

So can I get a name, I find you attractive and would like to chat if interested... Plus you are stacked...   :P

Aug 10, 2012 – 10:52 p.m. he wrote:

Sadness...