Where There's a Weep, There's a Way

As queen of sitting calmly through uncomfortable situations, this one was one of the more testing situations. This is all character building, right? Building thicker skin? Well, let me tell you friends, I'm your modern day Michelin Man. In part because I have been known to eat boxes of Fudge-o's for dinner. But that is neither here, nor there.

There are quite a few things that shouldn't happen on a first date, but this was a series of almost everything that could go wrong, did and it crumbled before my eyes. It's almost like watching someone eating with their mouth gaping open. It's a slow, horrifying process that you feel nauseated from watching, yet even with all your might, you simply can't turn away. You just sit there and gawk because that is the best action you can physically muster.

About six months ago, I went on a date with a seemingly kind, young man. We kept it simple and decided to meet at a local tea room, which was much less decadent than some places I have gone on a first date (see: "Age is Nothing But a Number" to remind you of the extravagance I have experienced in a first date). Our conversation was going on with great ease for the most part. Of course in meeting someone new, there are slight obstacles that you try traipsing around, but there wasn't anything that was insurmountable to get over.

At least there wasn't until we started talking about what I wanted to do for a living.

Long story short, I want to pursue a career in mental health care/counselling. In mentioning this, it was almost as I had seen a shift in his gaze towards me, realizing that he could speak to me about certain issues thinking that it wouldn't faze me one bit.

It wouldn't have fazed me if it were a friend who felt like they could confide in me. Or even if it were a stranger confiding in me, I wouldn't have minded. It's just that in wooing a potential mate on a first date, it's probably best if one leaves burdens from past relationships at the door. At least until we are seriously dating.

So viewing my ability to speak openly about tough situations, he found a way in. He started talking about a trip he had made to South Korea in the previous year to teach English. In the throes of the country he met a lovely Asian woman who had been through quite a bit of family struggles and there they had found love and solidarity in supporting each other. The relationship was so serious in fact, that she had moved all the way to Canada with him. However, the relationship headed towards a sour patch, and going down that path had irrevocable consequences. They had been broken up for about 6 months before I had the good fortune in going out on this date with him, and hearing him weep through this story.

Yes, you read that right. In re-living this story, he spent a good half hour at least, wiping away tears streaming down his face. Large, globular tears, mixed in with him sniffling slight snot. (My homegirl Sinead knows this all too well, am I right?) Snot-induced-tears falling while he exclaimed, "IT STILL HURTS TO THINK ABOUT THIS!"

I am usually a good person to turn to when this sort of crisis is happening, but this time around, I felt like I had been rendered catatonic. I had no proper reaction to put forth that would either help or even hurt the situation. So I sat there, and let him cry into his tea cup, checking my watch every so often to see how long this would endure. I felt sorry that he felt the need to release his frustrations to someone he barely knew. But in feeling that, I felt like a terrible person. I probably am a terrible person.

The only constructive advice I could give him was to seek out a professional counselor. Because as much as I would have legitimately tried to help him with his heart-on-the-mend, I didn't have the tools to do it. And it just wasn't what I was expecting out of a first date.

He tried to connect with me a few times after our date, but I regretfully evaded his requests to see me. I just couldn't keep going in a dating scenario, in which I knew I couldn't be his focus. And I didn't want to try and change that. He had to realize that positive change comes from how one treats themselves, even if others have trampled upon their confidence and trust. It's a difficult lesson that people have to get through, but one that's imperative to learn.

In fact, a few weeks ago I ran into him on the bus. I was engrossed in a book I was reading when all of the sudden I felt someone sit down beside me. I looked up and saw his side-view, but then I immediately looked down because I had thought I recognized him... Though I wasn't entirely sure. So using my super-sleuth Nancy Drew skills, I used my best physical ability to investigate by angling my phone to see his reflection and truly figure out if it was him. But when that didn't quite work, I pulled a Mindy Lahiri, and tried to view him through a curtain of my own hair. Quite similarly to this:

Needless to say, he didn't say anything to me, much less even acknowledged my presence. Probably because I was a grade-A creep monster, to someone who was sitting directly beside me. I guess I have my lessons to learn as a pseudo-adult, as much as this person seemingly should. But on the road to more positive changes, at least I can use these examples to remember what not to do. Especially since I have it officially written for all to see. :)

Textual Relations: Part Deux

Alright, I have to admit that a few days after I had written my first post about online dating, I ended up getting a slew of new messages that were sub par. If you guys haven't read the first post, stop reading this immediately and scroll down until you see the first "Textual Relations". All the while, reading other posts along the way. This is not a shameless plug. :)

By the way, did I say sub par? I mean, they were getting increasingly nightmare-ish. Some of these people could have given Freddy Krueger a run for his money.

It's like these people knew I had a blog in which I make fun of them.

Behold:

"So a Bear and a Rabbit are taking a shit in the woods. The Bear turns to the Rabbit and says, ''Do you have a problem with shit sticking to your fur?'' To which the Rabbit replies, ''No.'' So the Bear wiped his ass with the Rabbit."  (Was that supposed to be a joke? Try harder.)

"Comedy?! Any good jokes?!
I've got one for ya. What's got two legs and bleeds? Half a cat."    (WAS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE A JOKE? BECAUSE IF YOU MUST KNOW, I DON'T FIND ANIMAL ABUSE FUNNY. NEITHER DO MOST PEOPLE.)

"Your way prettier than I am, but I bet my scarves are nicer." ( .... I don't even want to go there.)

"Hey im only a 7 but i make 300 k a year, so that counts for something rite?"  (Seriously?! How do  you make $300, 000 a year, when you can't properly string words together in a sentence? Where have I gone wrong, world?!)

"So im guessing your from Pakistan, an i right?"  (Well, you're getting closer, but no cigar.)

"Hey, you are cute like a little kitten. Wanna play a game? And no, it’s not sexual before you think that’s what I’m insinuating you perv."  (Did a pedophile just insult me?)

"Hey I was thinking of robbing a bank, fleeing down to the oceanfront, driving off a cliff, and faking my own death this week (SCUBA tanks in trunk), are you in?"  (Actually, I might have said yes to that. I like a little danger sometimes.)

This was the only message that I was impressed with, out of the gems I received: 

"Are U East Indian?"  (YAY SOMEONE GOT IT RIGHT!)


Also, one of my friends sent me a link which is poignant to what I have written here. Bad online-dating victims, unite.

http://thoughtcatalog.com/2013/more-okcupid-messages-that-diminish-my-faith-in-love-and-humanity/

When should I start the support group? Name a time and place, my friends. It's going to be a long and arduous healing process.

The Rise and Fall of Chivalry

There was one instance very recently, in which I thought I had found some one who had potential.

Now in saying that, I am not necessarily insinuating that people in general don't have potential, it's just that often times it's not displayed properly. Or that it isn't displayed properly to me.

Anyhow on that dour note, I met someone who had potential. He seemed interesting and fairly well-read, but most of all, he was POLITE.

For those of you who know me personally, you have all heard my rant about public niceties and how the general population nowadays seems to be lacking in treating each other well. Just for the sake of being nice and well-meaning to someone. I mean, why not? What's the harm? Are you afraid that a nice gesture is going to just bounce off cold, dark hearts such as mine? Do you want to pass off as one of those brooding, sad-poet types, who has a heart of gold underneath? A heart that only people can access by wielding an ice-pick to your chest? Well stop, your shtick is done.

It's so simple, yet it seems like such an obscure action to be sincere.

Anyways, rant over. I am a hard woman to please, as clearly explicated in this blog.

In such fashion, I had high expectations from this person and he was meeting, possibly exceeding them. At least, he was at first. Let's list off the good signs:

1) In texts he was sending me, he would always ask me about my day, and ask specific details about what made it great or lacking. How thoughtful!
2) He spent a lot of time travelling in the last few months, and was excited to tell me about his humbling experiences (mainly his experience in India). Also, he wanted to talk to me about all the books he stumbled upon in his travels. That, right there my friends, is Jula cat-nip.
3) Before the date, he asked me if he could come pick me up, as he didn't want me to get rained upon while walking to the restaurant. I respectfully declined, but wow! I was at the point of thinking that people liked the wet-dog look on me.

And as an aside,
4) I had cut up my leg while shaving earlier that day, so I presumed that if something were to go wrong that night, it had to be that moment. So I threw on a Strawberry Shortcake band-aid and went on my way, head held high.

We met at the restaurant, a pretty little pizzeria in town. We sat down and started talking. Things were going well, but I noticed something as soon as the waitress approached us...

The nice, polite boy started treating our waitress like she was scum of the earth. That she was lower than the scum sitting on the earth's surface, in fact. I was dumbfounded. He didn't smile, or make eye-contact with her, and when she asked him if he wanted drinks, or to hear the specials, he just waved his hand away at her. I tried to make up for his gross ignorance by being my friendly, cheery self to our server, however it didn't warm the tone of our restaurant interactions.

At first, I tried to rationalize it as him being nervous and not acting truly as himself, but it became apparent that it just wasn't so. In speaking with him about his travels to India, the things that he focused on in our discussion was how different everything was for him (I'm sorry for being politically incorrect here, but that is a typical rich white-boy reaction when going to an Asian country. Pardon the pun, but talk about something different) AND started talking about "disgusting" habits people had when he was traversing through the slums ("like people spitting on the ground").

Really? Do you not see who is sitting in front of you? Does my brown look off-white to you? Like taupe, or something? DO YOU THINK PEOPLE HAVE FIVE-STAR HOTEL HABITS WHEN THEY LIVE IN A SLUM?

It became apparent to me that this person traveled to make him appear better and more astute than he actually was. The disappointment washed over me in crashing waves.

During the dinner, in which he described to me his one-dimensional world views, some slap-stick moments happened to me that if anyone else in the world had experienced while sitting in front of me, they would have at the very least started laughing nervously, or asked to take me to a hospital because I looked like I had been suffering from an aneurysm.  However, to make things even more awkward, he continued blathering without taking any notice of what was happening to me. There is something to be said, when the person sitting in front of you is completely ignoring what's happening in front of them. Here are the instances:

1) I drank down my (fifth) cup of water too quickly and started to choke on my water. I recovered after a minute.
2) I spilled most of my pizza on to my lap and while trying to wipe out the stains from my dress, I accidentally punched the table with my knuckle. I yelped and cried in the inside.
3) I accidentally poured the entire bottle of chili flakes on to my pizza, and tried to rectify it by spreading it around the pie.. while eating it, there were silent tears streaming down my cheeks from all the heat (happening in the wrong place), and I am fairly certain the colour of my nose rivaled Rudolph-the-Red-Nosed-Reindeer.

And yet, still nothing.

Anyways, the date petered off from there. He complained about the food not coming fast enough and the server being daft (the food's arrival timing was impeccable, and our server was amazing, especially under the circumstances), and decided to not leave a tip. I left a generous tip just before we left.

I guess my hope to find someone chivalrous was nixed at this point. Perhaps finding someone polite isn't supposed to be at the forefront, rather than surrounding yourself with people who are just genuine. Surrounding yourself with people who are chivalrous because it's in their nature, rather than considering it a public service that one is confined to do. Keep those sincere people close, my friends. I, of course, keep you  guys close.

Facebook Sex-Life Psychic

You know those Facebook statuses that no one re-posts when they advise you to do so (for it's mostly spam)?  Well this one was one that I felt worthy to re-post on a more targeted platform:

"Grab the nearest book to you, turn to page 45, and read the first sentence on the page. This sentence describes your sex-life in 2012..." 

'I love New York and it likes me okay.' 

Sounds about right.

Thank you Mindy Kaling for knowing my feelings, and helping me eat them away.

Liz Lemon is my Hero

This is essentially my philosophy if I ever meet the man of my dreams:

Textual Relations

I gave in.

I have an online dating profile. 

Well, I have had one on and off for the past little while. However, I find that I start up a profile thinking, "YEAAA, WHERE DEM MEN AT" and then being horribly disappointed when it dawns on me that online dating is even worse than real-life dating. 

My view of the whole phenomenon is epitomized in this internet meme: 

I always have such high expectations in the people I am speaking with. I mean, everyone is looking for someone who is fairly intelligent, modest, good-looking but not knowing that he's good looking... you know, the works. Actually someone like this, per se: 

But, because this is me we are talking about, it's almost always this: 

Without further ado, I shall recite you the pure poetry of messages I have received from potential suitors: 

(Disclaimer: These are not edited in the slightest.)

"Have you ever played Xiangqi (Chinese Chess)?" (Award for the most random message.)

"Hey are you pink or red inside?"  (HOW AWFUL IS THAT)

"omg your like my worse enemy!!"   (Yes, yes I am. You should probably take a course or seven on English Grammar. White boy.)

"I wanna floss with your pubic hair."  (I should definitely call this guy, right? Seems incredibly chivalrous.)

"Who lies more girls or guys?"  (Your dumb questions are not worth my time. NEXT.)

And the message that went straight to the point of asking me about my ethnicity: 

"R U terrorist?" (OBVIOUSLY, COME ON, I'M BROWN, RIGHT?)

....

This post speaks for itself. I might start an online-dating therapy group, let me know if you would like to join.

Tongues of Fire (Special Guest Writer: Vanessa)

Sometimes a date creeps up on you by surprise. Usually this happens when you're hanging out with someone you thought was just a friend. I ended up on a date-I-didn't-know-was-a-date in the summer after first year. He was a friend who was in a few of my classes, and our commutes home would sometimes overlap. I can't remember exactly how it came about, but we made plans to see the sequel of a pirate-themed summer blockbuster. I had actually had a crush on him during the school year, but what happened after the movie completely horrified me:

After the movie, we walked to a nearby coffee shop. On the way, he made for my hand, but grasped it in a manner more resembling the way a parent leads a small child by the hand. I could forgive this first offence. Maybe intertwined fingers is a bit intimate for a non-date date. But afterwards, being the only ones waiting at a bus stop, he went in for a kiss. It was a little wet--again, something I could forgive--but then it turned into something of an attack, as he proceeded to strangle me with his tongue. It still ranks as the worst kiss I have ever received.

Once we'd parted ways, I felt like I was facing a dilemma. The whole situation brought to mind that episode of Sex and the City where Charlotte goes on a date with a bad kisser who basically licks here face. Things didn't work out too well for her; she tried to steer him on the right path, but couldn't put up with it, told him he was a bad kisser and left he left the picture.

I feel bad for the way things ended, because there was a second non-date. I frankly don't remember too much about it other than it was hopelessly awkward as I was trying to run down the clock and avoid the topic of our (non)relationship status. Our friendship pretty much fizzled out after that.