Monday, January 17, 2011

Why my blog isn't about dating

I was catching up on some single girl / dating blogs today, and I thought for a hot second (don't laugh) "Hmm why isn't your blog about dating? Writing about dating is a good idea!"

Then I called my doctor for fear I might have had an aneurysm. Because then I remembered my actual life.

The entire blog would look like this (this is a pictoral representation, drawn by me -- you're welcome):

And then there would be a bunch of blank posts.

No, I'm serious.

On Saturday I went to a party with my friends from my last job, and they told me they're jealous that whenever we go out, I am usually the person who gets her number taken by a guy. Which is a) categorically untrue, and also b) not worthy of jealousy because they are not factoring in how the situation usually plays out afterward. Typically it's one of two scenarios:

1) The guy never calls, probably for one of the following reasons:
  • He was drunk and forgets who I am.
  • He decided I'm cute but not really cute enough to be worth the effort.
  • He was really just taking my number in hopes that I'd go home with him but I'm not a ho and so he deleted my number.
  • He can't keep track of all the girls named Lisa in his phone.
  • He's gay.
  • He googled me and found this blog.

2) The guy does call (ok, TEXT, let's be real, I've never gotten a call from a guy in NYC) and:
  • After a series of awkward and too-innuendo-laden text messages (on his part) he texts that we'll have to hang out "sometime." Then he disappears altogether.
  • We go on an awkward date but really all he wants to do is have a one-night-stand so he's lukewarm and semi-insulting the entire night but then tries to come home with me.
I'm not even kidding, that's always how it plays out. And this is what my friends forget.

I actually did meet a guy at the party on Saturday. (Despite what my friends say, this is a rare occurrence.) He was so nice, and funny, a good beer pong player (but not TOO good), working on his Ph.D. in some remote history topic (Byzantine Empire I think), wore glasses, hijacked the music at the party to put on Michael Jackson, complimented me, introduced me to his friends, flirted but was not inappropriate, did not argue with things I said, asked for my number, and left the party without trying to make me come home with him. Gold star, sir. He also had on a guy version of a hat like this, which was cute in a weird way, and he let me wear it for part of the night (it looked cute on me too):

He was smart, not a hipster, not a meathead, not Jersey-ish, not a douchebag, not an alcoholic (but not a non-alcoholic), not pushy (but not wimpy), and did not appear to be a stoner or a smoker. Win.

But guess what? He texted me "Night" after he left the party, but of course I haven't heard from him since.

I feel like my friends who are in couples and jealous of my "single life" or my friends who are single and envious that some guy takes my number really just forget about the reality of the situation because they have painted a pretty picture in their heads. Let's be real - me meeting someone at a party or a bar (or for that matter anywhere in NYC for the last 5 years) has never ended in a healthy relationship. At BEST, it ends with me a) blasting music in my apartment, eating an entire bag of pretzels and crying on my sofa wondering why I'm such a failure, or b) becoming really cynical, carrying around a copy of something by Simone de Beauvoir, watching violent movies and ceasing to wash my hair or go out to a bar for a week and a half. At worst it ends with me forgetting the person ever even existed.

So really the point is, you should all be glad my blog isn't about dating, because although I used to have a pretty good handle on this aspect of my life, ever since I moved to NYC it's been shit. I could write about that for hours. And maybe I will sprinkle in a few posts about it. Mostly because I know you all secretly love the schadenfreude (n: pleasure derived from the misfortune of others) that you sometimes feel after reading my tales of woe. But for now, I leave you with a hand-drawn reminder of what my dating life is really like:


Anonymous said...

HAHAHAHAHA. I love you. And Crunchy Granola Girl.


PS I do have a gmail account that would allow me to post under my name and not Anonymous. However I can't remember the password and I keep trying to get it reset but then I never get the confirmation email with the new one. So no, I'm not trying to be cute by posting as Anonymous and then putting my name.

Lisa said...

Haha Ash you crack me up. I'm so happy you remember the granola bar pictures! They really can be used for anything. Maybe I'll start incorporating them more. ;) xoxo

Erik said...

Strong illustration.

You are waiting for the guy to make the move.

But lettuce be reality. It is 2011. The alpha male who meets someone, wants to get to know her better, and has the confidence, along with the initiative to make the first move is a dying breed. He is on the endangered species list along with the "Renaissance Man", the "Handy Man", and the "Self-made Man". I imagine he is all but extinct in major cities, where due to lowered standards of the female population, he can "succeed" with twice as many women with half the effort.

You have even further narrowed the ability of the aforementioned alpha male to find/pursue you by narrowing your standards to exclude several groups of which he may possibly belong.

So what are your options?

1) Become an alpha female. You'd think this would throw off the balance of the universe, but it's perfectly fine. Again. 2011. I could lecture on this all day, but there are just so many people in the world afraid to go for what they want.

2) Don't attend any party where anyone working on a Ph.D. on the Byzantine Empire will be in attendance. Without knowing anything more about the party-goers, I assure you that your odds for success are slim in that situation.

3) Be desire-less. When a woman is willing to walk away, the typical male (beta or alpha) will instinctively work harder to keep them there. Seems counterintuitive but trust me. Exiting before smart, furry hat-man would have been the optimal course of action in your scenario.

4) Do something about that skin and one wants to date the Incredible Hulk.

Lisa said...

Erik are you just going to argue with every single post I ever write? Lol. Chillax dude, it's hyperbole.

Ben said...

Simone de Beauvoir and violent movies? I'm in. I'll pick up some sushi (but I'm broke so you'll have to pay) and will be right over.

Erik said...

aware/wasn't srs except for option #2...I stick by that one.

misspitimi said...

I´m 34 now and I´ve recently broken up with someone. I was not very optimistic about my future love life, but now I see that I´m gonna be alone forever and I´m gonna dye alone and be eaten by my cat...

It is true that knowing you are not the only one with the same problems, helps in some way, so thank you so much!!

I had a great time reading you!!

Kisses from Spain

Lisa said...

Misspitimi - Glad to help! The fear of being eaten by my cat is why I don't have one. :) Good luck with everything, and keep up the hope!

Anonymous said...

I don't know how I stumbled across this blog, but it totally made my slightly-hungover morning. Hilarious. You've inspired me to write about those really awkward dates that we have all surely experienced.

Anonymous said...

You're hilarious, I don't know how I came across this blog but I wish I'd found it sooner. You've also provided a great activity to make me feel less guilty about lazing around being hungover - I can now justify it as reading time.


Lisa said...

Thanks Molly! :)