So it's been about a year and a half since my last post and here's what's been going on...
...I've moved myself to Long Beach, CA with my boyfriend Mike, who I've been dating for like almost 2 years now (can you believe it?). I'm still at the same job, I have 2 bunnies, fishies and frogs, and I've somehow domesticated myself into this sort of routine that is just blah. When someone asks me what I did on the weekend, I actually have to stop and think of an answer, because my life is just that boring that I can't figure out what the hell I did on the weekend. Crazy, huh?
Sometimes I think back to my awesome dating life and I miss it. But other times I think about how lonely I would get on occasion and I do love rolling over in bed and having Mike there, even if he does steal blankets and let the cat sleep next to us.
I still think Mike is adorable. I still get butterflies when I look at him and his dreamy, sweep-the-floor eyelashes. I still laugh when we fight and I still think about him during the day while I'm at work.
I still think about Derek though, too. And Derek still pops back into my life here and there, causing total wreckage everywhere he goes. Just recently he called and we discussed his current relationship, maturely and very friend-like, until I seriously couldn't take it anymore and 48 hours later told him in kind terms to fuck off and stay away.
Then I came home and felt grateful to have Mike, who had cleaned and made me dinner. To show my appreciation I dreamt that night about Julian, this guy at my work that I have an office crush on.
What to do...once a dater, always a dater.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
On Hiatus
Well it's no big secret I have no time to write essays on the trials and tribulations of relationships or dating anymore. I'm a little sad. Just a little. But one day I know the itch will come back, and I'll jump into the swing of things.
For now, the blog is officially archived. Dead. Finito. I'm heading off in a new direction, and I think it's all about food, friends, and the clever witticisms that make up dinner conversation.
Link to the new blog to follow. And thanks to the readers, both real and in my head, who make me feel important enough to keep writing.
For now, the blog is officially archived. Dead. Finito. I'm heading off in a new direction, and I think it's all about food, friends, and the clever witticisms that make up dinner conversation.
Link to the new blog to follow. And thanks to the readers, both real and in my head, who make me feel important enough to keep writing.
Friday, January 26, 2007
Sharing Is Over Rated
There's always something that first bonds a couple, whether it's that stunningly well-sung karaoke song or the dearly loved and dog-eared Kerouac book on their bookshelf. Whatever it is, it's that moment when you realized you had the perfect companion for your favorite activity.
Mike and I first bonded over Southpark and bong rips, which does not the cornerstone of a relationship make. I'm not sure why I didn't know this from the start, but I believe he was giving me a shoulder massage at the time, and I think I was blissfully unaware of my inability to build a relationship off of TV and pot. I mean, it worked all through college. So why doesn't it work now?
It's 4 months deep into this stoner union and I am finally sober enough to realize that we don't share that many interests. Sure, we like to cook dinner (individually), go to various grocery stores, watch TV, and um...yeah. Mike's main interest is cars. My main interests (now that I'm done with my law school apps) are socializing with friends, shopping, and art. Mike hates shopping, art, and socializing, in that order. I hate cars. Sometimes I'm not sure how we continue on together.
Just recently I purchased an ice cream maker. The first two hours of it's existence in our apartment were spent admiring, unpacking, and devouring the contents of the instruction booklet. It was a shared interest. We bonded. Until, that is, we realized that we had very different ideas of what flavor of ice cream to make. I am more of a meyer lemon-thyme, key lime, and lavender type of ice cream maker. Mike wanted peanut butter-fudge, chocolate-chocolate-chip, and caramel swirl. Somehow the ice cream maker did not bring peace. We argued. We fought. We couldn't come to a consensus.
We now share joint custody. Mike ended up making chocolate last night, and tonight I'm going to make key lime. What can you do. Maybe key-lime-chocolate?
Mike and I first bonded over Southpark and bong rips, which does not the cornerstone of a relationship make. I'm not sure why I didn't know this from the start, but I believe he was giving me a shoulder massage at the time, and I think I was blissfully unaware of my inability to build a relationship off of TV and pot. I mean, it worked all through college. So why doesn't it work now?
It's 4 months deep into this stoner union and I am finally sober enough to realize that we don't share that many interests. Sure, we like to cook dinner (individually), go to various grocery stores, watch TV, and um...yeah. Mike's main interest is cars. My main interests (now that I'm done with my law school apps) are socializing with friends, shopping, and art. Mike hates shopping, art, and socializing, in that order. I hate cars. Sometimes I'm not sure how we continue on together.
Just recently I purchased an ice cream maker. The first two hours of it's existence in our apartment were spent admiring, unpacking, and devouring the contents of the instruction booklet. It was a shared interest. We bonded. Until, that is, we realized that we had very different ideas of what flavor of ice cream to make. I am more of a meyer lemon-thyme, key lime, and lavender type of ice cream maker. Mike wanted peanut butter-fudge, chocolate-chocolate-chip, and caramel swirl. Somehow the ice cream maker did not bring peace. We argued. We fought. We couldn't come to a consensus.
We now share joint custody. Mike ended up making chocolate last night, and tonight I'm going to make key lime. What can you do. Maybe key-lime-chocolate?
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Welcome To My Jail Cell
I'm starting anew in 2007 with a whole new blog. I guess I hadn't been blogging because I'd directed this thing exclusively towards dating, which sure didn't leave any space for expansion when I suddenly and unexpectedly settled down.
What are you going to do. Sometimes life blindsides you and it's time to roll with it.
I've finished with my law school apps, and although work is still insanely busy, I've been missing my blog. We were friends once upon a time, you know. Daily friends. And there's a big chunk of my life missing if I'm not writing about my life on a regular basis.
So please help me welcome in this new era, the one where Isabelle is struggling to comprehend just how relationships are going to work for her, and what she's going to do when she hits thirty (which is right after 29, which is coming up here shortly).
Here begins the new blog: Adventures in Chains: Navigating the Peaks and Valleys of a Relationship. Haha. Enjoy.
So a little background will probably help here, as I'm sure most of my old readers have abandoned me and new readers will soon surface. I'm Isabelle, currently 28, working an office job, trying to get into law school. I've had my mid-twenties life crisis, moved from Chicago to Los Angeles, and have settled into the sunshine and liberal atmosphere of the City of Angels quite admirably, I like to think. I love cooking, food, art, music, and up until recently, dating.
Into the picture enters Mike. Mike is 27, loves cars, his cat (which thankfully is not living with us), and me. We've been dating for the last almost 4 months and things have progressed rapidly to the point where we now live together. I know. It's sort of crazy. And that's why we have the blog, to discuss the crazy ins and outs of this nonsense.
It's sort of shocking, actually, to think that just 4 months ago, I was dating freely and partying regularly. But I guess lots of different activities make me happy, because I'm just as pleased now to be sitting around painting, cooking, cleaning up my place, or watching TV with Mike. We're getting to that point in a relationship, though, where I'm getting a little antsy. I miss the crazy party life I had before, and now with these law school apps out of the way, I'm looking forward to adding a little of that life back into the mix. Not in a large amount, mind you, because well - partying is expensive. There's new outfits to be had, alcohol to consume, taxis to take, and delicious dinners to be eaten. But once in awhile would be nice. We'll see what happens.
I find that approaching topics like spending time apart so you can go party - well, that can be touchy. You've got a couple different tactics you could use - Honesty, Cleverness, or Negotiation. With Honesty, I could just say, "hey Mike, I need some time apart and I'd like to go out with my friends and get drunk and flirt and party." Ok, so I could say it more tactfully, but that's truly how I feel. Now with Cleverness, I could say, "hey Mike, what are you doing on Tuesday? Oh, you're going to your car meet thing? Well, I think I'll make plans with my friends for that night. I'll be home late." Luckily for me, Mike would probably be already passed out and I could forgo any explanations or excuses as to why I'm missing my underwear and my breath reeks of tequila. And also, I don't want to go out on Tuesday, I want to go out Saturday, which in Sex In The City Land and elsewhere, is traditionally date night. But it's also party night.
So, we come to Negotiation. This sort of combines both honesty and cleverness with a little twist. You have to know your guy well enough to figure out two activities he doesn't like. Mine doesn't like going out in large crowds of people. I start off with, "hey Mike, Xander and his girlfriend want to have dinner with us on Friday and there's a huge party on Saturday I want to go to." He says, "Do I have to?" And I reply with, "well, I'd really like it if you came with me to dinner on Friday, but I'll let you off the hook for Saturday." And voila! Everyone is happy. He thinks he got out of going with me, and I didn't really want him to come in the first place.
I'm so brilliant that if I could pat myself on the back, I would. But I'll save that for after I stumble in and pass out on Saturday night without waking him up. Now that would be truly brilliant.
What are you going to do. Sometimes life blindsides you and it's time to roll with it.
I've finished with my law school apps, and although work is still insanely busy, I've been missing my blog. We were friends once upon a time, you know. Daily friends. And there's a big chunk of my life missing if I'm not writing about my life on a regular basis.
So please help me welcome in this new era, the one where Isabelle is struggling to comprehend just how relationships are going to work for her, and what she's going to do when she hits thirty (which is right after 29, which is coming up here shortly).
Here begins the new blog: Adventures in Chains: Navigating the Peaks and Valleys of a Relationship. Haha. Enjoy.
So a little background will probably help here, as I'm sure most of my old readers have abandoned me and new readers will soon surface. I'm Isabelle, currently 28, working an office job, trying to get into law school. I've had my mid-twenties life crisis, moved from Chicago to Los Angeles, and have settled into the sunshine and liberal atmosphere of the City of Angels quite admirably, I like to think. I love cooking, food, art, music, and up until recently, dating.
Into the picture enters Mike. Mike is 27, loves cars, his cat (which thankfully is not living with us), and me. We've been dating for the last almost 4 months and things have progressed rapidly to the point where we now live together. I know. It's sort of crazy. And that's why we have the blog, to discuss the crazy ins and outs of this nonsense.
It's sort of shocking, actually, to think that just 4 months ago, I was dating freely and partying regularly. But I guess lots of different activities make me happy, because I'm just as pleased now to be sitting around painting, cooking, cleaning up my place, or watching TV with Mike. We're getting to that point in a relationship, though, where I'm getting a little antsy. I miss the crazy party life I had before, and now with these law school apps out of the way, I'm looking forward to adding a little of that life back into the mix. Not in a large amount, mind you, because well - partying is expensive. There's new outfits to be had, alcohol to consume, taxis to take, and delicious dinners to be eaten. But once in awhile would be nice. We'll see what happens.
I find that approaching topics like spending time apart so you can go party - well, that can be touchy. You've got a couple different tactics you could use - Honesty, Cleverness, or Negotiation. With Honesty, I could just say, "hey Mike, I need some time apart and I'd like to go out with my friends and get drunk and flirt and party." Ok, so I could say it more tactfully, but that's truly how I feel. Now with Cleverness, I could say, "hey Mike, what are you doing on Tuesday? Oh, you're going to your car meet thing? Well, I think I'll make plans with my friends for that night. I'll be home late." Luckily for me, Mike would probably be already passed out and I could forgo any explanations or excuses as to why I'm missing my underwear and my breath reeks of tequila. And also, I don't want to go out on Tuesday, I want to go out Saturday, which in Sex In The City Land and elsewhere, is traditionally date night. But it's also party night.
So, we come to Negotiation. This sort of combines both honesty and cleverness with a little twist. You have to know your guy well enough to figure out two activities he doesn't like. Mine doesn't like going out in large crowds of people. I start off with, "hey Mike, Xander and his girlfriend want to have dinner with us on Friday and there's a huge party on Saturday I want to go to." He says, "Do I have to?" And I reply with, "well, I'd really like it if you came with me to dinner on Friday, but I'll let you off the hook for Saturday." And voila! Everyone is happy. He thinks he got out of going with me, and I didn't really want him to come in the first place.
I'm so brilliant that if I could pat myself on the back, I would. But I'll save that for after I stumble in and pass out on Saturday night without waking him up. Now that would be truly brilliant.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Isabelle Rises From The Ashes - She's Not Really Dead, I Swear.
Hello dear readers! I know I've been away for awhile, getting my life and love and career squared away...not necessarily in that order. I've reconnected with friends, jumped forward in my relationship timeline, and made many a delicious meal while on sabbatical. And you'll be happy to know that I'm nearing the end of the dreaded law school apps, which I have very seriously procrastinated on. They're due at the end of this month, so you can be sure that beginning in February - just in time for Hallmark's Numero Uno of all Artifically Created Holidays, Valentine's Day - I will be back on track with the blog.
But I did want to say sorry. I've treated you all like that stupid girlfriend that dumps all her friends for her boyfriend until she herself gets dumped. You know who I'm talking about. We all hate her. And I am totally behaving like her, with my only excuse being that Mike would swear up and down that I haven't been spending that much time with him, and that I've been really dating my work.
So what have I been up this past month? Well, lots of writing, for starters. Mostly of the promote-yourself type, concerning my personal statement for law school. I wrote three statements to get one I approved of, so obviously that took awhile. And I've gone back to journaling, which I severely neglected this past year and a half that I've been blogging. There's something to be said for the romantic scratch of pen on paper. Of course I also love my own handwriting, so it feeds into that narcissistic side of me.
In my career, work's been busy still...I know, in October I swore we'd be done in December, and in December I thought it would let up by January, and now it's January and I'm wondering how I ever found the time to blog in the first place. The company's really getting it's money's worth out of me now, unfortunately. And career-wise (as I am not fortunate enough to call my current job my career), law school is looming, and I've had to schmooze and canoodle to get the required letters of recommendation and other such nonsense ready to be shipped out.
And of course, the update that you've all been waiting for: Mike. Well, I'll just jump to the point. He's moved in. Craaaazy, I know. He was spending almost every night at my place anyways, and even when I was sick of him I wasn't all that sick of him. I would bitch and moan, and then my coworkers (who have become my best friends lately since I spend like 12 hours a day with them), who are both in serious relationships, would tell me that I am just a whiner who makes mountains out of molehills (one of my mom's favorite sayings). Which, while true, super sucks to hear. But I had to face the awful reality that although I am a 28-year-old, gorgeously thin, intelligent and fun female, if I don't learn the fine arts of compromise, negotiation and consideration, I'm going to have few companions in my elder years.
But back to the whole moving in thing - yeah, it was fast. I mean, Mike and I have been dating only 3 months, and 2.5 of those months I've been at work. Just kidding. But really, I have been busy. I still make time to have dinners and boba teas with Daria, poker with my usual group, trips to see family over the holidays, TV with Nathan, smoking with Xander and all my little side conversations with my favorite boys. And I guess all the socializing and working is probably what's keeping Mike and I working, because when we finally do see each other, we have something to say. And if we didn't live together, we probably wouldn't see each other at all. But the real reason for him moving in was more to help him. He's saving money and will probably move out in a couple months. So it's not that serious. At least, that's what I keep telling myself.
It's weird to think I haven't even dated anyone else in the meantime. I mean, wasn't dating the whole point of this blog in the first place? Yeah. And it's not to say that I haven't spoken to Jared, Roger the Chef, Jordan the Snowboarder, Tim the affair and dear old Brandon every couple days, but things are different. I guess I'm happy being in a relationship for the time being, and it is really nice to have support when you're swamped in every other area of your life.
When things get unswamped, that's when we'll really see what this is all made of. But until then, carry on...
But I did want to say sorry. I've treated you all like that stupid girlfriend that dumps all her friends for her boyfriend until she herself gets dumped. You know who I'm talking about. We all hate her. And I am totally behaving like her, with my only excuse being that Mike would swear up and down that I haven't been spending that much time with him, and that I've been really dating my work.
So what have I been up this past month? Well, lots of writing, for starters. Mostly of the promote-yourself type, concerning my personal statement for law school. I wrote three statements to get one I approved of, so obviously that took awhile. And I've gone back to journaling, which I severely neglected this past year and a half that I've been blogging. There's something to be said for the romantic scratch of pen on paper. Of course I also love my own handwriting, so it feeds into that narcissistic side of me.
In my career, work's been busy still...I know, in October I swore we'd be done in December, and in December I thought it would let up by January, and now it's January and I'm wondering how I ever found the time to blog in the first place. The company's really getting it's money's worth out of me now, unfortunately. And career-wise (as I am not fortunate enough to call my current job my career), law school is looming, and I've had to schmooze and canoodle to get the required letters of recommendation and other such nonsense ready to be shipped out.
And of course, the update that you've all been waiting for: Mike. Well, I'll just jump to the point. He's moved in. Craaaazy, I know. He was spending almost every night at my place anyways, and even when I was sick of him I wasn't all that sick of him. I would bitch and moan, and then my coworkers (who have become my best friends lately since I spend like 12 hours a day with them), who are both in serious relationships, would tell me that I am just a whiner who makes mountains out of molehills (one of my mom's favorite sayings). Which, while true, super sucks to hear. But I had to face the awful reality that although I am a 28-year-old, gorgeously thin, intelligent and fun female, if I don't learn the fine arts of compromise, negotiation and consideration, I'm going to have few companions in my elder years.
But back to the whole moving in thing - yeah, it was fast. I mean, Mike and I have been dating only 3 months, and 2.5 of those months I've been at work. Just kidding. But really, I have been busy. I still make time to have dinners and boba teas with Daria, poker with my usual group, trips to see family over the holidays, TV with Nathan, smoking with Xander and all my little side conversations with my favorite boys. And I guess all the socializing and working is probably what's keeping Mike and I working, because when we finally do see each other, we have something to say. And if we didn't live together, we probably wouldn't see each other at all. But the real reason for him moving in was more to help him. He's saving money and will probably move out in a couple months. So it's not that serious. At least, that's what I keep telling myself.
It's weird to think I haven't even dated anyone else in the meantime. I mean, wasn't dating the whole point of this blog in the first place? Yeah. And it's not to say that I haven't spoken to Jared, Roger the Chef, Jordan the Snowboarder, Tim the affair and dear old Brandon every couple days, but things are different. I guess I'm happy being in a relationship for the time being, and it is really nice to have support when you're swamped in every other area of your life.
When things get unswamped, that's when we'll really see what this is all made of. But until then, carry on...
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Just Chillax, Man
This morning I had a big fight with Mike. It was one of those fights where the first person says something totally offensive, like "I've got the balls, so I'm in charge," and then the other person says the meanest, most ridiculous thing that comes to mind, like, "I'll rip those balls off and stuff them down your throat, you stupid boy that has no real job."
It just escalated from there. But after I brushed my teeth, I realized it was silly and I wanted to apologize. Mike was already smiling and as I approached, but then he blurted out, "My penis is the Master and you must bow down to it."
So, yeah. I left in a huff and told him in no uncertain terms that I would not tolerate such behavior from a little man such as himself.
But then I was listening to the radio this morning, and because it's California, they were playing the acoustic version of Sublime's "What I Got." If you've never heard the song you must download it immediately because it's a totally sweet song. But if you have heard it, you know it's awesome. And for the first time in my life I actually listened to the lyrics (which I know by heart and sing along with, but apparently I'm just making noise), and maybe it's because I live here in Cali now, but I get it.
Early in the morning, risin' to the street
Light me up that cigarette and I strap shoes on my feet
Got to find a reason, a reason things went wrong
Got to find a reason why my money's all gone
I got a dalmation, and I can still get high
I can play the guitar like a mother fucking riot
Life is too short, so love the one you got
Cause you might get runover or you might get shot
Never start no static I just get it off my chest
Never had to battle with no bulletproof vest
Take a small example, take a tip from me
Take all of your money, give it all to charity
Love is what I got
It's within my reach
And the Sublime style's still straight from Long Beach
It all comes back to you, you'll finally get what you deserve
Try and test that you're bound to get served
Love's what I got
I said remember that Lovin' is what I got
I don't cry when my dog runs away
I don't get angry at the bills I have to pay
I don't get angry when my Mom smokes pot
Hits the bottle and goes back to the rock
Fuckin' and fightin', it's all the same
The dibbie doobie dobbie's the only way to stay sane
Let the lovin', let the lovin' come back to me
So anyways, my point is that Mike exemplifies these lyrics to a T. Replace "guitar" with skating, surfing and snowboarding, and "dalmation" with "cat," and it's pretty much his life. His mom left when he was five because she was doing coke, he spends his money the second he gets it, he doesn't get angry about much, and he loves life as long as he's got pot and me. In that order (even though he insists it's not).
And even though this isn't exactly what I want for my own life, I do really like the fact that I'm dating a guy who thinks I'm doing great even when I'm just smoking a joint and making a sandwich. There's no pressure. I don't have to be anything spectacular. All I have to do is just chill, and enjoy. Maybe it's this awesome nothingness, this void of responsibility, that makes me really like being with Mike. It's been over two months already, and for some reason, this relationship is working.
But I'll still rip it off and throw it to the dogs if he steps out of line. I'm not that relaxed.
It just escalated from there. But after I brushed my teeth, I realized it was silly and I wanted to apologize. Mike was already smiling and as I approached, but then he blurted out, "My penis is the Master and you must bow down to it."
So, yeah. I left in a huff and told him in no uncertain terms that I would not tolerate such behavior from a little man such as himself.
But then I was listening to the radio this morning, and because it's California, they were playing the acoustic version of Sublime's "What I Got." If you've never heard the song you must download it immediately because it's a totally sweet song. But if you have heard it, you know it's awesome. And for the first time in my life I actually listened to the lyrics (which I know by heart and sing along with, but apparently I'm just making noise), and maybe it's because I live here in Cali now, but I get it.
Early in the morning, risin' to the street
Light me up that cigarette and I strap shoes on my feet
Got to find a reason, a reason things went wrong
Got to find a reason why my money's all gone
I got a dalmation, and I can still get high
I can play the guitar like a mother fucking riot
Life is too short, so love the one you got
Cause you might get runover or you might get shot
Never start no static I just get it off my chest
Never had to battle with no bulletproof vest
Take a small example, take a tip from me
Take all of your money, give it all to charity
Love is what I got
It's within my reach
And the Sublime style's still straight from Long Beach
It all comes back to you, you'll finally get what you deserve
Try and test that you're bound to get served
Love's what I got
I said remember that Lovin' is what I got
I don't cry when my dog runs away
I don't get angry at the bills I have to pay
I don't get angry when my Mom smokes pot
Hits the bottle and goes back to the rock
Fuckin' and fightin', it's all the same
The dibbie doobie dobbie's the only way to stay sane
Let the lovin', let the lovin' come back to me
So anyways, my point is that Mike exemplifies these lyrics to a T. Replace "guitar" with skating, surfing and snowboarding, and "dalmation" with "cat," and it's pretty much his life. His mom left when he was five because she was doing coke, he spends his money the second he gets it, he doesn't get angry about much, and he loves life as long as he's got pot and me. In that order (even though he insists it's not).
And even though this isn't exactly what I want for my own life, I do really like the fact that I'm dating a guy who thinks I'm doing great even when I'm just smoking a joint and making a sandwich. There's no pressure. I don't have to be anything spectacular. All I have to do is just chill, and enjoy. Maybe it's this awesome nothingness, this void of responsibility, that makes me really like being with Mike. It's been over two months already, and for some reason, this relationship is working.
But I'll still rip it off and throw it to the dogs if he steps out of line. I'm not that relaxed.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
The Relapse Of Isabelle
I know I haven't posted in awhile. Life has been sucking lately, between coughing up a lung, trying to find a professor who will write me a recommendation, and working 12-13 hour days. Right now I'm trying to talk to clients on the phone while blowing my nose and training the newbie. I guess the end of the year is always like this, but damn! It'd be nice to be Jared, sitting around chilling in my own apartment on the beach, with grandma paying the rent.
Yeah, I've been talking to him lately. Well, "talking" isn't exactly the right word for it. We've been back in touch. It started off innocently enough with a few text messages, which of course evolved into a phone conversation, and then an email. What can I say? The boy is pure crack. And I'm a crack whore.
Not to worry, though! Jared lives in San Diego and I live in Los Angeles. Not to mention the fact that I have a boyfriend (oh yes, the word rolls off my tongue almost easily now), Mike, who currently is suffering through the same cold I am and is at home, asleep. Lucky bastard.
It seems to be the story of my life to get involved with jobless boys. Take Roger the Chef, for instance. He wasn't working when I met him, and although he does work on weekends now, he schlepps around all week doing nothing. And he lives in a beautiful Venice home. Yep. And Mike, who I'm currently dating, works at his Dad's business on occasion, but mostly hangs out at my place. Or even beautiful Brandon, who I dated in college, who waitered once in awhile but usually just grew weed.
But I've been too busy to be envious. Last Wednesday I went to the Slightly Stoopid show with Dan. This time there were no backstage antics or exciting celeb encounters to tell, but Dan did end up dancing with a 15 year old. Yeah. I won't let him live that one down for awhile. I guess it was dark, and I was up against the railing watching the show, while he hung around in the background with the other tall people. This girl came up and started dancing on him, and like most other guys, he was all, "whatever," and started dancing. And then the lights came on, and he said (and I quote), "she wasn't a day over 16, and I felt like a dirty old man." Luckily he had the sense to get rid of her.
Oh, and I almost forgot to mention, Jordan the Pro Snowboarder has come back into the picture. He randomly texted me and we've been flirting back and forth. Basically he's been flying back and forth to Colorado to test and show new snowboards for Burton, and he wants to know when I can come out to snowboard with him. Never mind that I've never actually been on a snowboard, and the last time I skied was when I was 16. I could get hooked up with free gear, a free snowbunny outfit, and a free place to stay! Pretty sweet. But going to Colorado to "snowboard" would be a blatant cheating maneuver, and honestly (and I can't believe I'm going to say this, perhaps the cold is clogging my brain with mucus), I just don't feel any urge to pull something like that.
Maybe after the holidays.
Yeah, I've been talking to him lately. Well, "talking" isn't exactly the right word for it. We've been back in touch. It started off innocently enough with a few text messages, which of course evolved into a phone conversation, and then an email. What can I say? The boy is pure crack. And I'm a crack whore.
Not to worry, though! Jared lives in San Diego and I live in Los Angeles. Not to mention the fact that I have a boyfriend (oh yes, the word rolls off my tongue almost easily now), Mike, who currently is suffering through the same cold I am and is at home, asleep. Lucky bastard.
It seems to be the story of my life to get involved with jobless boys. Take Roger the Chef, for instance. He wasn't working when I met him, and although he does work on weekends now, he schlepps around all week doing nothing. And he lives in a beautiful Venice home. Yep. And Mike, who I'm currently dating, works at his Dad's business on occasion, but mostly hangs out at my place. Or even beautiful Brandon, who I dated in college, who waitered once in awhile but usually just grew weed.
But I've been too busy to be envious. Last Wednesday I went to the Slightly Stoopid show with Dan. This time there were no backstage antics or exciting celeb encounters to tell, but Dan did end up dancing with a 15 year old. Yeah. I won't let him live that one down for awhile. I guess it was dark, and I was up against the railing watching the show, while he hung around in the background with the other tall people. This girl came up and started dancing on him, and like most other guys, he was all, "whatever," and started dancing. And then the lights came on, and he said (and I quote), "she wasn't a day over 16, and I felt like a dirty old man." Luckily he had the sense to get rid of her.
Oh, and I almost forgot to mention, Jordan the Pro Snowboarder has come back into the picture. He randomly texted me and we've been flirting back and forth. Basically he's been flying back and forth to Colorado to test and show new snowboards for Burton, and he wants to know when I can come out to snowboard with him. Never mind that I've never actually been on a snowboard, and the last time I skied was when I was 16. I could get hooked up with free gear, a free snowbunny outfit, and a free place to stay! Pretty sweet. But going to Colorado to "snowboard" would be a blatant cheating maneuver, and honestly (and I can't believe I'm going to say this, perhaps the cold is clogging my brain with mucus), I just don't feel any urge to pull something like that.
Maybe after the holidays.
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Baby's All Growed Up
Saturday night was Nathan's 25th birthday party. I was a little concerned about the debauchery and mayhem that might ensue, because last year the following happened:
1. I lost my phone. That pretty much speaks for itself in suckiness.
2. Sean, our favorite gay friend from San Diego, was supposed to stay with us that weekend. He never came home. Well, he came home the following morning. With smelly hands. Ewww.
3. Xander got what we like to call a "friend-job" in the closet of the bar. Classy.
4. Jello shots were plentiful conversation lubricators.
5. Nathan took a cab home, alone, late in the evening. And by "alone," I mean, everyone abandoned him at the bar. On his birthday.
6. Xander walked the 6 miles home from West Hollywood, napping on benches with bums, and tripping into light poles.
This year I promised Nathan that I would stay until the end, and that I'd make sure he got home. We had plans in place. For example, all party-goers this year wore Mardi Gras beads. This way we could identify friends that needed help:
"I'm not sure who that is over there in the corner, but he has beads on so I'm going to go help him up."
We had designated drivers, and people were responsible. Daria and I got a call when we were halfway to the bar:
"Isabelle, can you guys come get us? No one wants to drive because we all want to get wasted."
Rules were instilled:
"No shots until 11pm. Well, just a tequila shot at the pre-party. But that's it."
And people who stepped out of line were reprimanded:
"Ben, quit texting me! Unless you want to have sex."
Here's a few pics from the evening:
Preston and I, getting into the spirit of things.
1. I lost my phone. That pretty much speaks for itself in suckiness.
2. Sean, our favorite gay friend from San Diego, was supposed to stay with us that weekend. He never came home. Well, he came home the following morning. With smelly hands. Ewww.
3. Xander got what we like to call a "friend-job" in the closet of the bar. Classy.
4. Jello shots were plentiful conversation lubricators.
5. Nathan took a cab home, alone, late in the evening. And by "alone," I mean, everyone abandoned him at the bar. On his birthday.
6. Xander walked the 6 miles home from West Hollywood, napping on benches with bums, and tripping into light poles.
This year I promised Nathan that I would stay until the end, and that I'd make sure he got home. We had plans in place. For example, all party-goers this year wore Mardi Gras beads. This way we could identify friends that needed help:
"I'm not sure who that is over there in the corner, but he has beads on so I'm going to go help him up."
We had designated drivers, and people were responsible. Daria and I got a call when we were halfway to the bar:
"Isabelle, can you guys come get us? No one wants to drive because we all want to get wasted."
Rules were instilled:
"No shots until 11pm. Well, just a tequila shot at the pre-party. But that's it."
And people who stepped out of line were reprimanded:
"Ben, quit texting me! Unless you want to have sex."
Here's a few pics from the evening:
Preston and I, getting into the spirit of things.
The crowd at the Abbey. Where's Isabelle? Just look for the half-naked girl...
Me, Charlotte, her boyfriend Nick, and my stolen bottle of rum - just grabbed it off the bar and walked away. That's what chocolate martinis will do to you...
All in all, it was a very fun and pretty mellow evening. No one puked, everyone behaved themselves, and dramatics were nowhere to be seen. I guess the quarter-century really is a mile marker for some of us. And in half a year, it will be MY birthday! I'm turning 29, my last year in the obnoxious and immature twenties. Sweet. I can't wait.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
The Peace Offering
I forgot it was Mike's birthday today.
I'm not very good at this whole relationship thing.
Of course I'm not going to make it up with something stupid like a blow job or anything, because that's just lame - not to mention far too much work. Plus I have to work late tonight, until 9pm, and I need my beauty rest.
What I did decide to do is spend my lunch hour at Trader Joe's, picking up Mike's most favorite of all favorite things: Strawberry Lemonade. I got two bottles, and that stuff's $4.00 a pop.
This will be sufficient, I'm sure.
Like I said, I'm not very good at this relationship thing.
I'm not very good at this whole relationship thing.
Of course I'm not going to make it up with something stupid like a blow job or anything, because that's just lame - not to mention far too much work. Plus I have to work late tonight, until 9pm, and I need my beauty rest.
What I did decide to do is spend my lunch hour at Trader Joe's, picking up Mike's most favorite of all favorite things: Strawberry Lemonade. I got two bottles, and that stuff's $4.00 a pop.
This will be sufficient, I'm sure.
Like I said, I'm not very good at this relationship thing.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Here We Go Again
I've been a bad, bad girl. And of course it feels good.
I've been talking to Derek/Jared via text message, and it's been nice. What triggered it all was a rereading of the bestest day that we spent together. All the old feelings rushed back, but in a different sort of way. I didn't feel like trying to date him again or anything. I just felt like I wanted to hold on to a little smidgen of hope that sometime in the far future I'd meet a normal version of Derek/Jared.
So we messaged, about the LSAT, and Thanksgiving, and wished each other luck. And he told me that if I ever found myself in San Diego, that I should give him a call.
I'm not planning on visiting San Diego anytime soon, and if I did, I'm not sure I'd call.
But it's nice to know I can.
I've been talking to Derek/Jared via text message, and it's been nice. What triggered it all was a rereading of the bestest day that we spent together. All the old feelings rushed back, but in a different sort of way. I didn't feel like trying to date him again or anything. I just felt like I wanted to hold on to a little smidgen of hope that sometime in the far future I'd meet a normal version of Derek/Jared.
So we messaged, about the LSAT, and Thanksgiving, and wished each other luck. And he told me that if I ever found myself in San Diego, that I should give him a call.
I'm not planning on visiting San Diego anytime soon, and if I did, I'm not sure I'd call.
But it's nice to know I can.
