The Dating Deviant

Bed hopping is quite possibly a direct correlation of carb consumption

Sat, 24 Jan 2009 13:38:28 -0500

Bed hopping is quite possibly a direct correlation of carb consumption

Ample sized balls, or, why I am moving to Ireland

Sat, 13 Dec 2008 01:30:53 -0500

Ample sized balls, or, why I am moving to Ireland

Beef is not what's for dinner

Thu, 18 Sep 2008 09:52:53 -0400

Beef is not what's for dinner

Kissing is the best part.

Wed, 17 Sep 2008 11:34:47 -0400

luxnightmare:

(Or, a rare glimpse into my heart.)

I think what I really learned from years of being slutty is that kissing is the best part.

Unless you’re getting into a relationship, there’s this inevitable sadness to all sexual encounters — even good sexual encounters, even the best sex — because it means the end of it all. The end of the flirtation, the moment of promise, the anticipation, and — in some cases, at least — the end of your acquaintance with that person. Suddenly this person, so full of promise, is just another name on your list of people you’ve fucked; another entry to the database of places you’ve been.

Kissing, on the other hand, extends the moment of anticipation, heightens the desire, keeps you wondering and guessing what, exactly, that moment of climax would be like. Kissing is the question, and fucking is the answer — and the answer is never as good as you hoped.

What I’m really trying to say, I guess, is that I long ago lost the desire to fuck every hot stranger who passes by, but I still really want to make out with people.

They are making great strides in the field of flesh colored adhesive bandages…

Wed, 17 Sep 2008 11:26:05 -0400

Therefore I believe it is acceptable to go on a date in the near future sans helmet. My primary concern in resuming the dating & mating game isn’t so much having split my head open (refer to headline re: bandages) so much as the gym restrictions placed upon me the past two weeks. It’s one thing to have a hole in your head but quite another to lose muscle ratio to fat at an alarming rate . Bangs can only go so far and I have blatantly failed at eliminating desserts from my lifestyle.

Follow up from suitor below. He actually did prove Googlable. I think once I get my bangs restyled in two weeks this could be a go. I’m wild for condiment talk.

From: SUITOR
To: DATING DEVIANT
Date received: September 16, 2008
Subject:

I guess Google aptitude is also a safe distance from the frontal lobe? Anyway, I wouldn’t worry about the late-night monte cristo habit; I’ve read that swiss cheese and mayonnaise help the body heal faster. Although this was a long time ago, so I don’t remember whether they need to be eaten, or applied topically.

However many banks fail by the time your sabbatical ends, I’m pretty sure there will still be bars open. Feel free to get back in touch then.

FYI: Head injuries are the new "D cup"

Sun, 14 Sep 2008 23:04:00 -0400

In an attempt at productivity I decided to make the most of today’s hangover by embracing my quarter-life crisis with a vengeance and Googling immigration law and visa options that consist mainly of inconsistent acronyms. Eventually I tired of this and decided to log into Match, as I always do take pleasure in changing up at least two of the adjectives in the “About Me” section on a regular basis to “mix it up.” In response to my activity, suitor sent a follow up. Men do indeed dig a disaster!

Correspondence below:

From: SUITOR
To: DATING DEVIANT
Date received: September 14, 2008
Subject:

Wow. I’m always sorry to hear about head trauma, but it’s almost inspiring how little it seems to have affected your verbal abilities. (Almost.) And if your helmet does have space for the GPS unit, I guess that’s a silver lining.

Would your stitches keep you from getting a drink sometime this week?

-[SUITOR NAME]

From: DATING DEVIANT
To: SUITOR
Date sent: September 14, 2008
Subject:

[SUITOR NAME] is helpful, but not quite helpful enough in terms of Google.

Stitches are so last week. You know you can’t leave them in, in excess
of five days to attain aesthetic success? I learn something new every
day. Lucky for you, me and anyone else I ensnare in email chain fun,
my damage was in my frontal lobe whereas my ability to verbalize in
grades of awesome is located somewhere closer to the left.

I am still on my dating sabatical for another week or two. This is
down from my initial assessment of 6 months to one year, but I can be
dramatic. Not so much due to my impressive head injury or even apathy,
so much as I am not allowed to gym it for a few weeks still, yet
despite (or perhaps in spite of this) I still managed to find myself
sitting in the diner at 4:30 AM this morning ordering the Monte
Cristo. On fried challah bread. With fries. With a side of mayonnaise.
Oh and I totally ate the whole thing.

Perhaps drinks in a couple weeks. It may just be worth your while. If
you are a true head injury contender you’ll be pumped to hear I scored
pre-stitch photos off the doctor a few days ago. They come everywhere.
I’m about two steps from upgrading the discharge papers I have them
enclosed in to a plastic case with a calligraphy label.

He's so so so just not into me

Thu, 11 Sep 2008 23:53:18 -0400

Seeing as I recently managed to split my forehead open and am sporting a way hot bandage until my custom helmet comes in and/or I get around to scheduling a revamp of my bangs with my stylist, I clearly haven’t logged into my Match account. Alas I do receive suitors via gmail. Example below. Why ever has he not written back? Baffling.

From: SUITOR
To: DATING DEVIANT
Date received: September 10, 2008
Subject:

Hi. I was at the beginning of a vacation when your wink came through. (I don’t recommend browsing through this site on a phone via a slow South American connection… the “reply back” button is very close to the “seek restraining order” button and it’s a little too easy to make a mistake. I solved this by giving up until I got back to the U.S.) Since it’s been a while, I’m just sending a quick hello to see if you’re still on the site.

So you always choose the wrong direction and have an I-win complex? That could lead to some unexpectedly long road trips.

From: DATING DEVIANT
To: SUITOR
Date sent: September 10, 2008
Subject:

Hey there,

I am taking a break from match, as I took a digger on third ave last week and got 60+ stitches of awesome on my forehead (I wanted an exact number for the story, alas the doctor lost count).

I am considering wearing a helmet when leaving the house from now on, and am looking into the possibilities of installing a GPS system within it. That should solve the direction sitch. As for my I-win complex, I am testing out the full-blown drama of my stitches story at the bar this weekend in a trial run, but I so bet that no one can top my glorious tale (in case it is not implied, I am not much interested in winning anything of relevancy, such as an Olympic gold medal, but I get super pumped along the lines of things like telling the best bar story and consuming my beer the quickest). Also probably noteworthy, I took my tumble sober.

You seriously can’t make this shit up

Sun, 07 Sep 2008 15:42:00 -0400

You seriously can’t make this shit up

Go 13

Sun, 07 Sep 2008 15:24:23 -0400

Name: Brian

Age: 28 (taking another stab at a youngin’)

Height: 6’0

Alcohol units consumed: Copious.

Time expended: 30 hours over the course of two days. Right?

I think this date is officially my last dip into the match.com pond, ending that experiment. It only took 13 dates to get it right, however it only took me 30 hours to screw it up. Alas, I am back to singledom sans the quest to date each and every viable NYC male in under an hour. Over it.

Randomly showing up is the new drunk dial

Sun, 07 Sep 2008 15:13:54 -0400

Nothing says Internet wack job quite like showing up at a virtual buddy’s home, unless of course you do it:

a. Wasted

b. at 3:45 AM

c. Bearing cheese fries (with condiments!)

…then it’s like wack job plus.

Hence my Saturday evening a few weeks ago. Not surprisingly my “mind if we wait on sex?” bit resulted in an absence of date four. Gotta love the virtual dating scene. It’s not my fault the dude doesn’t meet my 30 lb minimum weight discrepancy. I’d hate to break him, hence the hesitation.

dazzlingdelta: kjohnson: theloveyturtle: thefunnyone:velvetrob...

Wed, 27 Aug 2008 01:22:15 -0400

dazzlingdelta:

kjohnson:

theloveyturtle:

thefunnyone:velvetrobots

align: There is a couple sitting side by side on a park bench, reading. These are the sort of...

Fri, 22 Aug 2008 11:43:45 -0400

align:

There is a couple sitting side by side on a park bench, reading. These are the sort of moments I miss most in my own life. Reading in bed together. Lying in grass, half-napping under a blanket of sunlight. Writing for someone and saying, “This is for you.” Or, even better, saying “Thank you,” not in response to a word or action, but saying it because it is necessary. Thank you for existing. Thank you for sharing your life with me. Thank you for letting me share mine. Thank you for making everything seem better. Thank you for making me strive to be a better person. Thank you for not giving up.

SURVIVING YOUR TWENTIES

Fri, 22 Aug 2008 01:30:00 -0400

hithisisdanielle:

dilaudid: ineedtoo: inmywardrobe: whatthehale: shimmerandshine:

“They call it the “quarter-life crisis.” It is when you stop going along with the crowd and start realizing that there are many things about yourself that you didn’t know and may not like. You start feeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year or two, but then get scared because you barely know where you are now. You start realizing that people are selfish and that, maybe, those friends that you thought you were so close to aren’t exactly the greatest people you have ever met, and the people you have lost touch with are some of the most important ones. What you don’t recognize is that they are realizing that too, and aren’t really cold, catty, mean, or insincere, but that they are just as confused as you. You look at your job… and it is not even close to what you thought you would be doing, or maybe you are looking for a job and realizing you are going to have to start at the bottom and that scares you. Your opinions have gotten stronger. You see what others are doing and find yourself judging more than usual because you suddenly realize that you have certain boundaries in your life and are constantly adding things to your list of what is acceptable and what isn’t. One minute, you are insecure and then the next, secure. You laugh and cry with the greatest force of your life. You feel alone and scared and confused. Suddenly, change is the enemy and you try and cling on to the past for dear life, but soon realize that the past is drifting further and further away, and there is nothing to do but stay where you are or move forward. You get your heart broken and wonder how someone you loved could do such damage to you. Or you lie in bed and wonder why you can’t meet anyone decent enough that you want to get to know better. Getting wasted and acting like an idiot starts to look pathetic. You go through the same emotions and questions over and over because you cannot seem to make a decision. You worry about loans, money, the future, and making a life for yourself… and while winning the race would be great, right now you’d just like to be a contender. What you may not realize is that everyone reading this relates to it. We are in our best of times and our worst of times, trying as hard as we can to figure this whole thing out. And really, this is an acknowledment that you are not alone in this….. “

Photo

Mon, 18 Aug 2008 17:19:56 -0400

Central Park Film Festival

Mon, 18 Aug 2008 17:18:36 -0400

Central Park Film Festival:

For the outdoorsy types. Outdoorsy being the types that drinks outdoors.

"People are lonely because they build walls instead of bridges."

Sun, 17 Aug 2008 13:09:25 -0400

“People are lonely because they build walls instead of bridges.”

- Joseph F. Newton (via alphabetpony) (via antoinetta) (via sailingonthesea) (via unicornology) (via teachmecoyness)

DADD : Dating Attention Deficit Disorder

Fri, 15 Aug 2008 21:09:13 -0400

DADD : Dating Attention Deficit Disorder:

(via blakeley)

This pretty much sums up my antics. Ish.

"The only thing worse than a man you can’t control is a man you can."

Fri, 15 Aug 2008 14:12:55 -0400

“The only thing worse than a man you can’t control is a man you can.”

- Margo Kaufman (via teachmecoyness)

Go 11 - Round Deux

Mon, 11 Aug 2008 10:03:13 -0400

The next logical step after a beer binge drink up (resulting in a 48 hour hangover) is to progress to hard liquor. Namely, my BFF tequila. On the rocks. With salt.

For such an occurrence to come to fruition, I selected El Rio as the follow up date locale with Jack the original. Midtown is my least favorite sector on the grid, alas nothing says let’s get sloshed and black out like Tex-Mex style boozin’. Plus it’s my charitable contribution to train others to drink at my level and even I have difficulty not blacking out on Rio margs. (Note: I have pretty solid grounds to write off margaritas as tax deductible).

As an added bonus, I was just rolling in from another bar so I already had that requisite lining of vodka in my system necessary to meet up with a semi-stranger that has seen me topless.

Since Jack has never been to El Rio, I got us right down to business with the margs. True to form, five minutes in I was working the desperate last sip straw slurp as he was nursing the top third of his drink. There was some schnitzel déjà vu, as when the waiter approached I opted to go round two and “really focus on my beverage” while Jack opted for food upon my assurance I would want whatever he ordered more than I could ever like anything I ordered.

As I was ready for my third drink and Jack couldn’t quite finish his first he was all, “you are business.” When it comes to drinking, I am in fact business. As Jack attempted to catch up on drinking, I attempted to eat off Jack’s plate without spilling (rice is tricky and two margs hinder aim and focus).

We attempted to piece together our prior evening of frolics, alas two minds do not work better than one post Zum Schneider beer binge. I remain baffled as to how we got from the bar back to my place. I am even more so clueless as to how we didn’t consume any Milano cookies that evening.

Time expended: 2 hours / Alcohol units consumed: 3 (me) 2 (Jack)

As we closed the bar down at midnight, another watering hole was necessary - across the street we went for a round of beers. Jack is a PDAer. I am not. As he was trying to kiss me in the bar I had to give him the spiel on how bars are for games and drinking not for saliva exchanging.

Time expended: 1 hour / Alcohol units consumed: <1 (me) 1 (Jack). Beer is tricky.

At this point the tequila was starting to get to me. Perhaps in an attempt to solve the PDA problem, we opted to leave the bar and hookup on the corner of what I believe to be 35^th and 3^rd. Nothing says class like my actions while all percentaged up.

It was getting kind of late and I was well bombed so after an hour of this it was time to go home. Unfortunately I have a distinctive tendency towards belligerence, where I like to irrationally return statements made (e.g. the time my roommate told my drunk self to go to bed as my eyes were red – “NO, YOU ARE RED!”) Jack wanted to see me into a cab. “NO, I will see YOU into a cab!”

This went on for awhile. Never underestimate the potential for five-year-old behavior in a twenty-something drunk chic.

To acquiesce the situation Jack and I both ended up in a cab so he could drop me off then go his own way. Until it was suggested we have just one more drink and then maybe go have that one drink on the roof top at my place. This worked as the original problem of my apartment being a train wreck hadn’t cleared up yet. This didn’t work as it had rained and no one wants to disrobe on dampened lawn décor.

Needless to say we ended up in my bed where I played a little game I like to call mixed signal central. Then I passed out. Good stuff. Noteworthy: I still made it into work in the morning. Like a champ! Jack did not. I hope he is using his free time to work on bettering his binge drinking ability.

Cumulative time expended: 11 hours / Cumulative alcohol units consumed: 4.5 (me) 3.5 (Jack)

smartblonde: dilaudid: (via stare-at-walls)

Mon, 11 Aug 2008 08:35:35 -0400

smartblonde:

dilaudid:

(via stare-at-walls)