DETOX

The last round of PMS and housemate drama has left me feeling a little depleted. Yesterday I had an overwhelming desire for salad greens. Luckily I had some dark leaf baby greens in the fridge I had picked up a few days a go. I put them in a bowl with a little olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and a touch a sea salt. It was the best thing ever! This got me wondering what my body might be missing, so I started googling “craving salad greens.” (What better way to spend a Sunday?) Before I knew it I was reading about the Dr. Perricone Diet that was big a few years back. For me, I just want to do the 3 day detox.

Instead of coffee I have green tea. This is the biggest sacrifice for me. I LOVE coffee! For breakfast – whole oats with blueberries, and then for lunch and dinner – salad greens with olive oil and lemon juice, and salmon. It’s the salmon with its omega-3’s that is supposed to work its magic on my skin, and as Dr. Perricone says, the skin is the biggest organ in the body and a reflection of what’s going with the rest of the organs.

Yes, I realize I’m straying from the subject matter of this blog, so here’s a little bit of weirdness for you: On Friday night, the night I’d had too much to drink, I went downstairs for a little midnight snack before bed. I could hear Grant knocking around in his room and I hoped to get back to mine before he came out. No such luck. I heard him in the hallway.

“Who’s in there?” He yelled from the hallway into the kitchen.

“Um, me… I’m about to leave. Should I leave the light on for you?” I said.

“Yea, um, wait… I’m putting on my shirt.”

I stood there for a moment in confusion until he came into the room.

“Hey, I just shaved my head. Can you check the back of my head for any missed spots?” He said as if it was the most normal request in the world.

“Ok… Um… Yea, it all looks good to me.”

I was sans contacts or glasses so the fact that it “looked good to me” meant very little, but he seemed to be happy.

“Great! Thanks!”

He bumbled back to his room.

Odd, indeed.

Missing My Slum

Never in a million years would I have guessed that Slum’s voice over a crackly connection from India would be music to my ears. We’ve been communicating via instant message since she left well over a month ago. Tonight she found me a bit tipsy (ok… drunk) IMing about “boy” problems. It’s her favorite thing to do – give counsel on relationships, so she picked up the phone and called me.

We were on the phone for at least an hour discussing the politics of love, and all the game playing that seems to be involved. She had me laughing my ass off. It’s hard to believe I threatened to break her fingers just a few months ago. She wants to me to come visit her in India. It’s been at the top of my list of places to travel for a while now.

“I have a two bedroom, two bath apartment here! What are you waiting for? Buy your ticket!!”

“Are there ashrams nearby where I can meditate and purge my demons?”

“It’s India! Your demons will instantly disappear!”

I want to go so bad… cheaptickets.com?

As a side note, I ran into Grant on a beer run to the fridge. He was sitting at the dining room table working on his screenplay. We had a nice conversation which involved bashing on the Scientologists. Maybe he's not all bad...

Good in the Hood

Tyler and I have kissed and made up. We had a really nice thanksgiving with friends. We didn't talk about any house issues, but just let it go. Although there was a football game on t.v. and she made a comment about the referee's outfit.

"Where do they get these outfits??"

"I don't know, but I think we need one of those guys in our house!" I joked.

"Ha! No doubt!"

We have plans to go get a Christmas tree and possibly have a little holiday soiree in the house.

I haven't seen Grant. I've been gone for a couple of days, but it seems that he is hanging out in his room more. Hooray!

My PMS pills have arrived and I've started the dose of two capsules per day. I can't wait to see the results.

The Apology

Hey,

I thought I'd run into you by now. I'm sorry I lost it on Monday. I know you were just talking to me like a friend, wanting support and I AM sorry that Grant is bugging you and you're uncomfortable with his presence.

Tyler

Vacationing in the 90210

A house sitting gig in Beverly Hills is just what I needed to get away from the house drama. I feel like I'm on vacation. I arrived yesterday afternoon and numbed my brain with four back to back episodes of the Oxygen reality show, Bad Girls' Club. It makes the conflict in my house look like child's play. Later I enjoyed a hot bubble bath with a cup of tea, which sent me into a blissful slumber in a nice, quiet bedroom.

I really feel so relaxed, like I'm on vacation. Unfortunately, I have to return to the house daily to check on and feed my cat. I don't really feel comfortable asking Tyler to do it, and now that I think about it, she always seemed less than thrilled to do it in the past.

Last week I invited her to attend Thanksgiving dinner with me at some friends' house, but now it seems a little awkward. I really feel like she has betrayed me by participating in Grant's bitch fest, yet making me feel like I'm insane for wanting peace and quiet at night when I'm trying to sleep. I'm not sure how that will pan out. I'm not going to dis-invite her. Hopefully she'll just bow out. In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy the sweetness of my current digs and forget about it.

Tyler’s On The Shit List Now

Considering Tyler didn’t seem to have a problem listening to Grant’s hissy fit the other day when apparently both of them were unaware of my presence, I thought I would consult her this afternoon about the most recent ruckus in the night. She was sitting in the dining nook having some food as I was making some tea. After she was finished complaining about a bad shoe shopping experience I made my move.

“Grant is driving me crazy. Did you hear the loud crash last night around midnight? It woke up me AND Francine and I was in a dead sleep.”

“No,” she said, “and I don’t want to be in middle of it.”

“Well, after he had his hissy fit the other night I’m reluctant to approach him again.”

This is somewhat true – I thought since they seem to be so chummy she could mention it to him and he might take it better from her without having a complete fucking meltdown.

“Hissy fit?” She said with a dear in the headlights look on her face.

“Yea, you know, the other night when he was bitching to you?”

“Oh, you heard that…?”

“Um yea, I guess he didn’t think I was in the house.”

And by her reaction she didn’t either because then she started babbling some stuff about it not being okay to leave notes like that but she told him that it was between him and me. Clearly more was said than that because it went on for quite sometime, and now she was feeling sheepish. Of course her voice doesn’t carry like his, but judging by her reaction she had said some things she hadn’t intended for me to hear.

“Now I have to go out and buy and fucking white noise machine and put felt pads under all the fucking chairs so I can get some sleep. I haven’t had one good fucking night’s sleep without sedating myself into a stupor since he moved in!”

I continued my rant “He lies!! When I interviewed him I asked him specifically what his habits were because there have been problems with past roommates making a lot of noise late at night and he told me ‘oh, yea, I stay up late but I’m just in my bed writing on my laptop.’ And that shit about him not being able to get the internet in his room? Bullshit!!”

“Yea, that’s a little weird,” she agreed. “But, this has been a problem for you in the past and you know you’re sensitive to noise, so it’s obviously you, and you have to take responsibility for it.”

My mouth gaped open.

“Oh, okay, so I should be okay with this,” I slammed the kitchen door, “at midnight?? And what the fuck is going on in the dining room? The chairs are all over the place and there’s a drill on the table. What is this, a fucking garage?”

I was indignant.

“Nobody even uses that room, so what does it matter?” she argued.

“It matters because it’s fucking inconsiderate! If you move something, put it back the way you found it!”

This was the first time she and I had ever had “words,” so I had no idea what the hell was going on. We go to kirtan and yoga together – we’re pals, or so I thought.

“It is unreasonable for four people to live in a house and expect that a chair can’t be left askew!”

Now she was just being a bitch. There is a big difference in a chair being askew and having all of them scattered all over the room as if it is his personal romper room.

“Okay, Tyler. I’m just going to leave it, ok?”

I picked up my tea and started for the stairs to my room. She slammed her spoon into her plate and let out an exasperated sigh.

Bitch.

New Year - New Plan

It’s never too early to start thinking about New Years Resolutions. The New Year will be upon us in a few short weeks. I’ve already decided to put “be more patient” on my list. Wait – before you laugh yourself off your chair – I have a plan. I just put in an order for this stuff called Femal by Flora that is a non-hormonal, homeopathic treatment for PMS and menopause. I sent some of this stuff to my big sister a few months ago. You see, horrific PMS runs in the family, so she was sort of my guinea pig. Lo and behold it seems to be working for her. Surely it will work for me too!

I do understand that this might take a little bit of the fun out of your reading. I mean, if you read regularly it’s as if we are sitting side by side on the hormonal roller coaster. The good news is it takes about two months for the stuff to get into the system and start doing its thing. It will probably be another week until I get the package, and then a good 6 to 8 weeks from there to see any real results. That means you’ve got about 9 weeks of mood swinging fun ahead of you. And let’s face it, it doesn’t come with a magic wand. My sharp tongue and acerbic wit are likely here to stay. The goal is to practice patience, not roll over and play dead.

Drama Queen

Friday night my beauty sleep was, once again, disturbed by Grant dragging furniture across the floor under my room. When I got up yesterday morning I skulked down to the kitchen, tired and cranky and saw the furniture in the breakfast nook in disarray and the table actually splitting down the middle – no doubt from rough handling. I was pissed. Like, what the fuck is he doing?? So – armed with a marker I started scrawling on the sounding board:

Can we please handle the furniture a little more gingerly? Chairs sliding across wood floors make a lot of noise. And what’s up with the table coming apart - ?

Then I left for my busy morning, which I was late for thanks to asshole sleep robber.

When I returned home I went straight to my room. The house was quiet. I put on some music and went about my business until I heard loud voices downstairs. It was Tyler and Grant. Well, mostly Grant ranting about ME! Of course I turned off the music to listen.

“It’s just everyday there’s something new. I don’t need it!” He whined.

Well, my advice is to get the fuck out then… And the everyday something new? 2 days in a row is more accurate. Day one he left the lights on downstairs overnight (again) and Day two he got a long overdue reprimand for making so much fucking noise late a night.

I listened to him rant like a girl, playing the victim, for what seemed like forever. I could only assume that he was unaware of my presence in the house. When he was done, I pumped up the music so there was no mistaking my presence in the house, got in the shower to prepare for battle. A girl needs to look good when she’s about to kick some boy ass. Besides, I was going out for the evening anyway.

Cool as a cucumber I sauntered down the stairs to find him sitting at the dining table at the bottom of the stairs. I had no intention of going for the jugular unless provoked.

“Hey, what’s up?” He said.

“Nothin, how are you?” I said as I walked over to the table and leaned forward, resting my forearms on the back of one of the chairs.

He started talking but he wouldn’t make eye contact, just kept looking at his computer screen.

“So, I don’t understand what’s going on with the notes on the board, and it’s like, I’m so sick of having some new complaint everyday…”

“Well, you know, the reminder to turn off the lights could have been for anyone. It was not directed at you,” I said coolly.

“Oh. Ok. I guess that’s a good point,” he said, still not looking at me.

“And the problem is this…” I dragged a chair across the floor to demonstrate and then pointed at the ceiling, “My bed is right there.”

“Ok, well, I’ve calmed down now, but I just feel like it’s something new everyday.”

Ok, so I see you’re attached to this and not letting go… and I guess I should be grateful that you’ve calmed down? YOU better be grateful that I’VE calmed down…

He continued, “But I’ll try to be quieter.”

“Great. I appreciate it.”

What a turd (or a tard). I can’t believe he whined to Tyler for nearly half and hour, like a DRAMA QUEEN! If he’d just stop dragging the damn furniture across the floor at midnight and filling the fridge with Pabst Blue Ribbon, maybe we could all be Rodney King-like.

Urban Dictionary

1. Man-boy:
(n) A male who, by age, should be a man, but still acts childish, is oblivious of what acting grown-up is about. An insult to point out ridiculous immaturity. A pathetic example of taking responsibility or manhood.

I'm not sure that the second sentence makes any sense, but hey, that's what you get when any yahoo can post their definition. I think it's a good description overall, but I think Grant has graduated to "drama queen." More to follow...

Don’t Bullshit a Bullshitter

I suppose I should have seen this coming. Grant is a Scorpio too - his birthday only one day after mine. We can be a temperamental and stubborn bunch, and sarcasm just comes naturally. I don’t really think our head butting will escalate to the levels that it did with Slum, but he is definitely a child trapped in a big 36 year old’s body.

I sent him an email explaining that I didn’t want him using my outlet because I have way too much stuff plugged into it already. I’m still perplexed by his claim that he can’t get a wireless connection from his room, since it’s just below the cat room. I think it’s all BS. I suggested that we remedy the problem by moving the router to his room. He responded in a way that would indicate he is not all that interested in fixing the problem.

I don’t know that I have a cable hook up in my room, and I’m not sure how soon I’m going to get it. it’s not a big deal. I realize you don’t seem too comfortable with the set up, so if I want to get on the internet I’ll try to go to a coffee shop or something.

Cry me a river….

Grant –
There is a cable. I lived in that room for 6 months. So we can move the router - since Ty and I have no prob getting a connection from anywhere in the house, or see if Fran's router works better for you. Just let me know what you prefer- No need to go to a coffee shop, unless you want to.

To this he only said, “whatever you want to do is fine.”

Then I saw him a few hours later in the kitchen. There was some plumbing work going on, so there was quite a lot of banging and noise. To my knowledge he had no idea what was going on so I casually said, "Just a little repair work going on."

"Obviously," he responded dryly.

I had no control over my eyebrows shooting straight up in disbelief.

I’m not sure if I’m just feeling extra cranky this week, but I’m really bored of the whole man-boy routine. There really seems to be an over abundance of them roaming the globe. Why, oh why, did we let one move into our house?

Round One!

So, this Grant idiot is showing his true colors this week. First off, when he moved in he was catless. Then, without asking anyone, he went out and adopted a kitten – just assuming that we were okay with it. There is red flag number one. Even as I was telling Mr. Lovely Hands about the kitten adoption he stopped me and said, “Wait, what? This guy just moved in a few weeks ago and he just adopted a cat without saying anything?? I’m not so sure about this guy…”

Sunday he dragged his laplop up to the “cat room” which adjoins to my room by a small window. The room used to be a balcony before it was closed in to make a sun room. I kept hearing all this banging in there so I went to see what in the hell the cat was doing, but instead found fat ass Grant in there setting up shop with his laptop.

“Oh, hey – what’s up?” I said a little surprised.

“Oh… um, yea, I can’t pick up the internet downstairs so I’m gonna try to see if I can get it in here.”

It’s true that the router is in the cat room, but no one has ever, ever had a problem getting a wireless connection anywhere in the house, upstairs or downstairs, so I’m 100% convinced he is lying.

It must have been obvious that I was bothered by his presence because then he said, “I’m not bothering you, am I?”

Stupidly I said, “No, not at all.”

Seriously, I didn’t think he would return again the next night. Only this time he brought beer. Papst Blue Ribbon. He’s a classy guy. All evening I was distracted from my reading by the “pshhh” of can after can being popped open, and the resulting beer burps. Add to that the fact that he is severely allergic to cats and he's hanging out in the CAT ROOM - sneezing and sniffling... WTF?

I was so irritated that I woke up at 4 a.m. plotting my plan to keep him out of that room, and downstairs where he belongs. Then it hit me… the power strip that he’s plugging his lamp and laptop into is connected to an outlet in my room via a crack in the window. So… I just unplugged it and secured the window. Viola!

I was telling a friend about my master plan and she said, “But that’s mean.”

To which I said, “But I am mean!”

She guilted me into atleast giving the poor slob a reason for disconnecting him – and a valid reason is that there are just way too many things plugged into my outlet. It’s a fire hazard after all.

Then, I got home and realized that the schmuck had pried the window open… Possibly even entering my room to do it. He’s crossed the line. I guess he hasn’t heard about the finger breaking that can go on around here. He’s dangerously close to finding out.

Trouble in Paradise

Things have been going way too well at the Glendale Manor. It was inevitable that something would pop up to ruin it. This time it’s the landlord. She’s a woman in her 60’s that has an emotional attachment to the house, as it was the house her immigrant Spanish father worked hard to attain when she was a child. Well, this is the story she gives when she’s trying her best to make us feel guilty for not maintaining the outdoors to her liking, but if she loves the house so much, why does she live in Laguna Beach?

Before each of us moved in she asked if it would be a problem to water “a small area of the yard,” but as of late she’s asking more and more, and wanting us to sweep and rake… I didn’t sign up to be her gardener and Tyler is pretty indignant that she’s trying to get “something for nothing” out of us. She is relentless lately in her nagging and it’s starting to piss me off.

Yesterday afternoon I was blissed out after a sweaty vinyasa yoga practice with one of my favorite teachers at Yorkworks Larchmont. At the end of class, she led us through three rounds of overlapping Oms. It sounded absolutely heavenly – a room of 35 yogis unleashing their most soulful Oms from the bottom of their hearts. I floated out of that class without a care in the world. Then I pulled out my iPhone and checked my email. There in my inbox was yet another mile long email from the landlord with "feedback" from her recent visit to the house, which included:

Last but not least.............the fruit trees were really dry. I know you just got this responsibility......but please water them regularly until we get some substantial rain. It is better to use the sprinkler head and let it run about a half hour on each of the three trees....there doesn't have to be a lot of water pressure........deep watering is the best.

Um, yea, okay Lady – Let me spend an hour and a half 3 times a week watering your trees and then ooh, oooh! Can I pay the water bill too??

Needless to say this sent my vinyasa zen calm right out the window. I was livid. I tried to talk myself out of it. Do not let this broad undo what took an hour and a half of sweat and breath to achieve… but it was too late. My panties were all in a wod. I obsessed about it all the way through my after yoga snack and continued to obsess over it all the way to my next destination, fantasizing about sending her an email telling her where she could shove those fruit trees.

After I calmed down I sent a very bland two line return email acknowledging receipt, but with no comment on the watering. I ended it with “Have a nice week.” Translation: “Get a life you old bitch.”

Hmm. PMS? Is that you?

Second Date

Last night I went on a second date with Shane (a.k.a. Mr. Lovely Hands). He drove all the way from Santa Monica to pick me up. Before he arrived I got Tyler’s opinion on my outfit – It’s so nice to live with girls you can ask girlie advice of! She gave my jeans and bohemian top the thumbs up.

“Are you nervous?” She asked.

“Mmm… A little… This dating thing is so weird. I’m worried he’s going to try and kiss me!! I just don’t know if I’m ready for that!” I said, laughing at myself.

It’s not like I’m a prude - God, far from it! But kissing a guy that I met on the internet that I really have no background with or link to, just seems… unnatural. I need to take this stuff very slow so I don’t get spooked.

He rang the doorbell just after eight. I was impressed that he did the gentlemanly thing, and came to the door, but I didn’t invite him in.

“So are you ready to go?” I said.

“Yea – let’s do it.”

He asked me about my day and told me about his on the drive to the restaurant. He’s so polite and pleasant. Surely he can’t be like this all of the time. But I guess that’s why people do this dating routine, right? To get to know the other person and see if he or she has qualities that are likable, and flaws that are acceptable.

The conversation rarely had a lull over dinner. We have plenty in common. He is more of a talker than I am, however, and every once in I while I found myself not hearing what he was saying over my own mind chatter – Do I like this guy? He’s got nice hands, nice lips, and good bone structure… hmm. Can I see myself naked with this guy? He’s so nice… I think I’m attracted to him… but I’m not 100% sure… Pay attention to what he’s saying!!

After dinner we decided to call it a night. It had been a busy day for both of us. My mind started to send me into a panic on the ride home. He was talking about fondue and I was thinking – Oh shit! What if he tries to kiss me? This is so awkward. I don’t like this part. He doesn’t seem like the type of guy that will lunge his tongue down my throat… breathe!

When we stopped in front of my house I started babbling.

“Thank you so much for driving all the way to the Glendale, and thank you for dinner, it was really lovely to see you again…”

And then I reached over to give him a hug and he kissed my cheek. It was very sweet.

Like I school girl, I wanted to tell Tyler all the gory details of my date, but alas, she’d already gone to bed, so I was left with my own thoughts tossing around in my head until I finally drifted off into a deep winter’s nap.

New Roomies

So Slum and Mariana are distant memories now. Grant and Francine have moved in and brought with them much needed peace and tranquility. What on earth will I write about? Well, beside the trials and tribulations of internet dating, which, quite frankly, is getting old already.

Francine is from Venezuela. She’s a journalist for a Spanish television station. She’s the polar opposite of Mariana. She’s quiet, considerate, and clean. She’s very lady like and has the cutest little accent.

Grant is 100% dude. The other night I went into the kitchen to find him eating fast food with his plumber’s crack peeking out while he watched football. Then a little while later he went into his room and came out with the cutest little kitten in his arms.

“Hey – have you met Lizzy?” He asked.

It was really quite cute – this big dude holding a fragile little kitten. I thought it was strange though, because just the week before he told me that he was severely allergic to cats.

“You picked the wrong house! We have four cats here!”

“Oh, that’s okay. I can just take allergy pills,” he said as if it was no big deal.

I guess it shouldn’t have been any surprise when I overheard his telephone conversation with his father later that evening.

“Dad…. Dad… DAD! I’m not going to overdose on allergy pills…”

I don’t know about that. Last night one of his eyes was so red and swollen it looked like he’d been punched. She sure is one cute kitty though.

Dullard Dave

He seemed like he was coffee worthy. His emails were light and unpretentious, and the fact that he’s a tall, handsome, 32 year old personal trainer with a great body didn’t deter me from meeting with him. But his looks were overpowered by his excruciatingly dull personality. I was ready to slit my wrist 10 minutes into our date. Actually, I was ready to end the date before it began.

We’d agreed to meet at a café in Atwater Village at 2 p.m. Once I arrived, ordered my coffee and found a good table outside, I checked my phone to find a text message from him: “I’m lost. Help!” Good God. So I called him and spent the better part of ten minutes trying to explain how to get there. We hung up and I occupied myself with a book as I waited.

The phone soon rang again.

“Um, I’m not sure I’m in the right place…”

No, he wasn’t. He was in exactly the opposite direction that I’d told him to go.

“Just stay where you are,” I said. “I’ll come to you.”

Already annoyed, I finally met up with him only to have him bore me to death with comments like, “Yea, I know I only got this job because of my looks. Surely there are much more qualified people out there. But I guess that’s the way it goes.”

I started plotting my escape. I didn’t want to be mean but I had to get the hell away from him asap before I lost my patience. I pulled out my phone to check the time.

“Oh, I gotta get going. I have to go work a horse before it gets dark.”

I think he kind of got the message that he was getting the brush off because he was suddenly very interested in my life.

“So, are you a shaman?”

“Um, no. But I have a shaman.”

“Wow, you’re a really fascinating person…”

“Thanks.”

I got up to go. He dragged his feet a little but finally got up.

“So, do you want to go for a walk in Griffith Park?” He said eagerly.

Confused, I answered, “Not today.”

He laughed. “Yea, I’ll email you.”

“Sure thing. It was nice to meet you,” I said as I put my hand out for a shake – Get a clue, dude.

The thought crossed my mind to keep him around as a toy boy, but then he’d just ruin the fun by talking. Sometimes it’s just not worth it.

Safe and Shane

Another successful PoF coffee date. Again I was pissing and moaning all the way there. It was after 8:00 p.m. since he works a day job, and we agreed to meet at a coffee joint in Hollywood. That meant bundling up in my coat and scarf and scooting over there after dark, which is not my favorite, but that’s the price I pay for living the Vespa lifestyle.

The ride was actually really refreshing and the venue, Solar de Cahuanga, was cozy with wood décor, oversized ceramic cups, and writers littering the place. I’m glad he picked it. Although he was 20 minutes late, he apologized profusely. I guess he had a hard time finding parking, and unfortunately we had not exchanged phone numbers, only email.

Two hours flew by in no time. We talked about travel, writing, and lots of yoga. We actually know a lot of the same people within the yoga community in LA. He’s an “active” activist – Like, he actually gets out there and donates his time to worthy causes. I’m inspired to do the same.

I’m not sure if there will be a love connection. That remains to be seen. He’s a little younger than me, and he lives way over on the west side of town, so really not an ideal situation there, but I think we’ll stay in touch for sure. We have a lot in common and he seems like a good friend to have – a sincere and kind heart indeed.

Post Patrick Post

I was so grumpy about going on my date with Patrick. On the way there the mind chatter was just soooo negative... I can't believe I'm doing this... what a waste of time... I'll NEVER like him... he's a probably a dork... Spending an afternoon with a stranger when I could be taking a nap...

You get the picture - but I got there and he was much better looking than his photos and not a dork at all... We talked for a solid 2 hours until I ended our date to go to my yoga class, which is good since I guess guys like it when you're not too into them. Although the lingering gazes were kind of a dead give away.

He seems to have a bright future in screenwriting, working on two scripts of his own, and one for a big name film. He has a Master's degree in film from USC and seems really passionate about his work, with several short films and one feature under his belt already. And bonus: he practices yoga and has dabbled in shamanism south of the border. All very good and deserving of high marks in the book of Mo. He’s also pretty sharp with his wit. I was telling him about my “relationship” with a horse named Jake.

“We came to an understanding,” I said. “He didn’t buck and I didn’t beat him.”

To which he quipped, “And is that pretty standard for all of your relationships?”

I think I blushed just a little for what seemed to be such a blatant sexual innuendo. Then again, maybe it’s just me.

I'm just really excited that I liked him and didn't walk away feeling all bitter and angry. We left it at "it's been a pleasure" and his suggesting dinner and drinks next time.

There is still nothing to report on the home front. It's just very peaceful here. Maybe life is taking a turn for the better in all directions.

PoF Progress

After wading through a sea of losers, I finally have two gents that seem worth the effort of getting coffee. I'm meeting Patrick today.

Stats:
42 years old
6'1
Brown hair and eyes
Filmmaker

Tomorrow I'm meeting Shane.

Stats:
34 years old
5'10
Blond and blue eyed
Screenwriter

I think it's really funny that so many "film people" have come into my life over the last several years, particularly of the writing variety. Hmmm. What does it all mean?

In any case, wish me luck on my coffee dates. I'm sure there will be no chemistry and I will be running for the door after 15 minutes. While they both look good on paper - chemistry between two people is so rare, it would really shock me if I found it on the internet.