I'm in a band. It's huge fun--it's probably the coolest thing I'm doing right now. I love it.
Tonight, we performed at a charitable event in the city. And, sadly, to say, we sucked. As in bombed. I'm not really sure what happened--I mean, our last performance was really strong! And suddenly, everything just fell apart. Our songs that we usually nail were crap. The whole thing was off. And sadly, even the songs we did nail were so old that the audience members (mostly my peers) were just not into it. And, oh yeah, there was a far superior band upstairs.
But the upside to all of this--my budding flirtation with on of our guitarists (apparently, I may or may not have learned my lesson about not dating coworkers, but I clearly have not managed to extrapolate from that lesson anything about dating other band members) came to a head tonight.
The Deputy Guitarist in our band is cute (actually looks a little like Austine, but I try not to hold that against him), has an amazing voice, and understands music incredibly well. He's affable, a good dresser, and has a charming Caribbean accent. And he flirts with me like nobody's business.
He asked for my number after last Wednesday's rehearsal, and there was no questioning the intent. And I had my suspicions when he offered me a ride home after our performance. Sure enough, we chatted in the car for probably an hour, hour and a half. When I made to leave, he got out of the car to open my car door and actually locked me into the car as he came over because my hand was too close to the door latch. He let me out of the car and gave me a big hug, which not shockingly turned into a kiss, which even less shockingly turned into fifteen minutes.
I have no decided that anything less than an hour is a goodnight kiss.
We undoubtedly could have kissed longer except that it's about 25 degrees or something in DC, and I was in my super-short sparkly dress procured for Superman's office party. Such a good purchase that was!
Under an hour.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
The Best Laid Plans...
As previously noted, it's been kind of a slow year so far. So, determined after my trip to Zambia to get things going, I texted the Penguin and arranged for an outing. He was a little slow to respond--apparently, there are limits to how much you can neglect a guy before he loses interest (I can't say I wasn't warned, seeing as how that was one of the first things the Penguin told me on our second date).
But, after a modicum of effort, I was able to worm my way back into the Penguin's good graces, and he agreed to a Saturday date to the Spy Museum. Squinched between brunch with a friend and a Saturday night performance with my band, I didn't actually have a huge amount of time for the date. So, I experienced a little chagrin when we got to the Spy Museum and there was a block-long line to get in. We opted to forego the espionage for another outing (the Penguin has been to the Spy Museum, so he didn't mind, but I was pretty disappointed). Lucky Strike proved to be a misnomer, as we found out that there was a two hour wait to get a lane. So, thus disenfranchised, we wandered around Chinatown looking for something to do.
Our walk was limited, by the way, by the Penguin's shoes, which were apparently not made for walking. HA!!! Since when are the BOY's shoes the limiting factor!?!!? The Penguin expressed disappointment, by the way, that his boots did not have spurs, which I thought was funny because he didn't actually know what spurs are for ("fashion?" he said).
So, instead, we found a fortune teller and had our tarot read. The Penguin went first, and I played with the puppy in the hall (aptly named Sugar). Then it was my turn. The woman did a tarot reading with which I'm unfamiliar (I'm not actually up on all the ways to read tarot card--it's not so much my thing, generally). She told me that my childhood was pleasant and that my family is supportive of what I do--true. She said that I've already found my true love, and that he's surrounded by evil. Okay, Mattie's definitely the love of my life, and he's definitely surrounded by evil. She then said that she thought that the "gentleman outside" was the love of my life because he's my "twin flame soul mate," which I thought was HYSTERICAL. I mean, honestly--we're on date #4!!!! The love of my life??? Yes, that is what I would tell him if I wanted to get rid of him quickly.
In any case, she went on with her prediction--I will get married in the next two years and have children (by the way, I remember when I had my runes read once, and the guy said that I would receive a proposal for marriage in the next 6 months or something, and it was true except that the fortune teller neglected to tell me that I wouldn't like the guy making the offer), and that my job involves travel--well, she got that right, at least! She also, by the way, offered a more in-depth service to figure out what the evil is that's plaguing the Penguin. He thought that a 3 hour trance, which was the service she offered, would obviously make the evil go away because I would get bored and leave.
Afterwards, we went to the National Portrait Gallery and made out in the stairwell for an hour. Because I've graduated from high school. And I've found my twin-flame soul mate.
But, after a modicum of effort, I was able to worm my way back into the Penguin's good graces, and he agreed to a Saturday date to the Spy Museum. Squinched between brunch with a friend and a Saturday night performance with my band, I didn't actually have a huge amount of time for the date. So, I experienced a little chagrin when we got to the Spy Museum and there was a block-long line to get in. We opted to forego the espionage for another outing (the Penguin has been to the Spy Museum, so he didn't mind, but I was pretty disappointed). Lucky Strike proved to be a misnomer, as we found out that there was a two hour wait to get a lane. So, thus disenfranchised, we wandered around Chinatown looking for something to do.
Our walk was limited, by the way, by the Penguin's shoes, which were apparently not made for walking. HA!!! Since when are the BOY's shoes the limiting factor!?!!? The Penguin expressed disappointment, by the way, that his boots did not have spurs, which I thought was funny because he didn't actually know what spurs are for ("fashion?" he said).
So, instead, we found a fortune teller and had our tarot read. The Penguin went first, and I played with the puppy in the hall (aptly named Sugar). Then it was my turn. The woman did a tarot reading with which I'm unfamiliar (I'm not actually up on all the ways to read tarot card--it's not so much my thing, generally). She told me that my childhood was pleasant and that my family is supportive of what I do--true. She said that I've already found my true love, and that he's surrounded by evil. Okay, Mattie's definitely the love of my life, and he's definitely surrounded by evil. She then said that she thought that the "gentleman outside" was the love of my life because he's my "twin flame soul mate," which I thought was HYSTERICAL. I mean, honestly--we're on date #4!!!! The love of my life??? Yes, that is what I would tell him if I wanted to get rid of him quickly.
In any case, she went on with her prediction--I will get married in the next two years and have children (by the way, I remember when I had my runes read once, and the guy said that I would receive a proposal for marriage in the next 6 months or something, and it was true except that the fortune teller neglected to tell me that I wouldn't like the guy making the offer), and that my job involves travel--well, she got that right, at least! She also, by the way, offered a more in-depth service to figure out what the evil is that's plaguing the Penguin. He thought that a 3 hour trance, which was the service she offered, would obviously make the evil go away because I would get bored and leave.
Afterwards, we went to the National Portrait Gallery and made out in the stairwell for an hour. Because I've graduated from high school. And I've found my twin-flame soul mate.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Like Molasses in Winter
Okay, so it has not escaped my attention that we're close to V-Day (or, as Mormon #1 likes to call it, Singles Awareness Day) and I actually have not gone on a date this year. It's been a slow year so far--so much for my horoscope. I'm pretty sure I was supposed to have a good year.
Noting my particular lack of engaging activities with the opposite sex, I went to a breast cancer fund raiser last night, fully prepared to buy a date at the auction. Yes, I know that I'm cute enough that I shouldn't have to buy my date, but really--I've never won a date at an auction. I thought it would be fun.
Except that it's EXPENSIVE!!! I thought I'd be willing to put out about $50, maybe a little bit more. The cheapest guy went for, I think, $65. The most expensive was $150! Can you imagine that!?! I guess this is what it means to be in DC with such a ridiculous ratio. In other news, I put together small group dinners for church, where every party had 2 guys and 4 women. Except for the 1 party that had no women. Wow. Kind of a rough town, I guess.
I will be going out with the Penguin on Saturday. This will be date #4 (it's only taken 3 months to get there); we'll see how it goes!
Noting my particular lack of engaging activities with the opposite sex, I went to a breast cancer fund raiser last night, fully prepared to buy a date at the auction. Yes, I know that I'm cute enough that I shouldn't have to buy my date, but really--I've never won a date at an auction. I thought it would be fun.
Except that it's EXPENSIVE!!! I thought I'd be willing to put out about $50, maybe a little bit more. The cheapest guy went for, I think, $65. The most expensive was $150! Can you imagine that!?! I guess this is what it means to be in DC with such a ridiculous ratio. In other news, I put together small group dinners for church, where every party had 2 guys and 4 women. Except for the 1 party that had no women. Wow. Kind of a rough town, I guess.
I will be going out with the Penguin on Saturday. This will be date #4 (it's only taken 3 months to get there); we'll see how it goes!
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Happy New Year!
And what a year it's been so far! It's 6:00 PM, I've been up for entirely too long on entirely too little sleep, I have successfully made it back to Washington, and I started the year off right with an excellent New Year's celebration (hence the little sleep).
I really did not think I would have a good New Year's. As I drove into Portland wearing the super-smokin' dress I bought for Superman's office party, I was pretty sure that my night was going to suck. I'm driving 45 minutes into the city at 10:30 at night, I have to leave home at 4:30 the next morning to make my flight, which means I'm going to have about an hour and a half to ring in the new year BY MYSELF. Because I'm in Portland, and everyone I know in Portland is OVER 60.
So, I drove into Portland listening to iTunes top 10 Metallica purchases (okay, that was kind of cool--I love Metallica), got lost on the East Side because I'm not FROM the East Side, and finally managed to get downtown. I parked my car and checked my phone, where my night was immediately brightened by the news that the one friend I have in Portland that's my age (a byproduct of my American Idol tryouts) was going to be able to join me with her sister for the evening.
So, I headed over to my destination, Dante's, where the band Karaoke from Hell was planning to perform for 28 straight hours. Karaoke from Hell is, predictably, a karaoke band--and they're AWESOME. I signed up for a song ("Don't Stop Believin' by Journey), tipped $5 (the larger the tip, the faster your song will come up), and waited for Hannah and Emma's arrival.
They came, we had a great time, and apparently, my dress inspires more than just Superman. When I was finally called up to sing, the band's backup singer commented on my dress several times (and my shoes!), and informed everyone that I looked hot. Several men approached me, although one was the most--well, determined isn't the word, although his friends were very determined to match him up with me for some reason. He and I chatted for an hour or so--he's from Idaho Falls and lives in LA (doesn't like LA, although he mentioned several times that the weather's really nice) and is a database manager (read: big geek. Have I mentioned I like big geeks?).
Unfortunately, due to my flight, I couldn't stay that late, but it was okay because Emma started to feel a little sick around 12:45 (she's 8 months pregnant and thus is prone to these things). I stayed for a little while longer and talked to the boy, and then it was time for me to go home, myself. As I waited for my coat to be returned to me, the boy informed me that his friends (who had been physically pushing us together all night) had informed me that he must walk me home. I pointed out that he wouldn't have a lot of luck there, but he was welcome to walk me to my car, which he did. We chatted a bit more, and when we finally approached my car, I gave him a hug and a kiss for the new year. It was only 1:15, after all, and I hadn't yet gotten a New Year's kiss.
It was pretty g-rated, though. Poor boy is, after all, from Idaho Falls and painfully shy. I didn't want to harm him only a couple hours after meeting him.
I really did not think I would have a good New Year's. As I drove into Portland wearing the super-smokin' dress I bought for Superman's office party, I was pretty sure that my night was going to suck. I'm driving 45 minutes into the city at 10:30 at night, I have to leave home at 4:30 the next morning to make my flight, which means I'm going to have about an hour and a half to ring in the new year BY MYSELF. Because I'm in Portland, and everyone I know in Portland is OVER 60.
So, I drove into Portland listening to iTunes top 10 Metallica purchases (okay, that was kind of cool--I love Metallica), got lost on the East Side because I'm not FROM the East Side, and finally managed to get downtown. I parked my car and checked my phone, where my night was immediately brightened by the news that the one friend I have in Portland that's my age (a byproduct of my American Idol tryouts) was going to be able to join me with her sister for the evening.
So, I headed over to my destination, Dante's, where the band Karaoke from Hell was planning to perform for 28 straight hours. Karaoke from Hell is, predictably, a karaoke band--and they're AWESOME. I signed up for a song ("Don't Stop Believin' by Journey), tipped $5 (the larger the tip, the faster your song will come up), and waited for Hannah and Emma's arrival.
They came, we had a great time, and apparently, my dress inspires more than just Superman. When I was finally called up to sing, the band's backup singer commented on my dress several times (and my shoes!), and informed everyone that I looked hot. Several men approached me, although one was the most--well, determined isn't the word, although his friends were very determined to match him up with me for some reason. He and I chatted for an hour or so--he's from Idaho Falls and lives in LA (doesn't like LA, although he mentioned several times that the weather's really nice) and is a database manager (read: big geek. Have I mentioned I like big geeks?).
Unfortunately, due to my flight, I couldn't stay that late, but it was okay because Emma started to feel a little sick around 12:45 (she's 8 months pregnant and thus is prone to these things). I stayed for a little while longer and talked to the boy, and then it was time for me to go home, myself. As I waited for my coat to be returned to me, the boy informed me that his friends (who had been physically pushing us together all night) had informed me that he must walk me home. I pointed out that he wouldn't have a lot of luck there, but he was welcome to walk me to my car, which he did. We chatted a bit more, and when we finally approached my car, I gave him a hug and a kiss for the new year. It was only 1:15, after all, and I hadn't yet gotten a New Year's kiss.
It was pretty g-rated, though. Poor boy is, after all, from Idaho Falls and painfully shy. I didn't want to harm him only a couple hours after meeting him.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Substitution Therapy
I kind of wonder if heroine addicts are a little disappointed with methadone. Do they take it and feel like it does the job, but it's just a bit disappointing?
So, Superman kicked me to the curb a couple of months ago, and the next day, the Penguin texted me for the first time in a while. I had all but stopped communicating with the Penguin because when it came down to it, I just wasn't that excited with him. He's nice, and we have a good time, but he's quite a bit younger than me, and I was just feeling like he's in a completely different place in life (as in at his parents' house).
But, what a day will do. With Superman out of the picture, I decided that I might as well go ahead and go out on another date with the Penguin--it would be nice ego boost, and honestly, we do have a good time together. So, we set it up for this afternoon, and we went to Dave and Busters.
We had a great time, honestly. We played trivia games (where we were actually astonishingly well-matched), basketball (he kicked my a**), air hockey (I wiped the floor with him), and a whole bunch of other games. We ate mini burgers and talked about movies and sat on Santa's lap (no, really, I have pictures). The luster of the night was, admittedly, a little dimmed when he offered to show me proof of his, ahem, enthusiasm for me (and he sure didn't make shy about how much he was looking forward to taking me home--shame I had a concert to go to at the end of the night). But, overall, I had a really great time.
So, after the date, I went to see a friend perform the Messiah (not just him--he's part of the National Philharmonic Choir), which was fantastic. But I have to say, I was sad not to have Superman with me--he had been my consort at my last musical event, and I had enjoyed having him there. He's thoughtful about what he likes and was a nice companion at a concert. The empty seat next to me was not as engaging.
And so, there it is. It's like switching from top-shelf bourbon to grain alcohol-based punch. The overall effect is more or less the same, but it doesn't taste as good, go down as smooth, and you have one hell of a hangover later.
So, Superman kicked me to the curb a couple of months ago, and the next day, the Penguin texted me for the first time in a while. I had all but stopped communicating with the Penguin because when it came down to it, I just wasn't that excited with him. He's nice, and we have a good time, but he's quite a bit younger than me, and I was just feeling like he's in a completely different place in life (as in at his parents' house).
But, what a day will do. With Superman out of the picture, I decided that I might as well go ahead and go out on another date with the Penguin--it would be nice ego boost, and honestly, we do have a good time together. So, we set it up for this afternoon, and we went to Dave and Busters.
We had a great time, honestly. We played trivia games (where we were actually astonishingly well-matched), basketball (he kicked my a**), air hockey (I wiped the floor with him), and a whole bunch of other games. We ate mini burgers and talked about movies and sat on Santa's lap (no, really, I have pictures). The luster of the night was, admittedly, a little dimmed when he offered to show me proof of his, ahem, enthusiasm for me (and he sure didn't make shy about how much he was looking forward to taking me home--shame I had a concert to go to at the end of the night). But, overall, I had a really great time.
So, after the date, I went to see a friend perform the Messiah (not just him--he's part of the National Philharmonic Choir), which was fantastic. But I have to say, I was sad not to have Superman with me--he had been my consort at my last musical event, and I had enjoyed having him there. He's thoughtful about what he likes and was a nice companion at a concert. The empty seat next to me was not as engaging.
And so, there it is. It's like switching from top-shelf bourbon to grain alcohol-based punch. The overall effect is more or less the same, but it doesn't taste as good, go down as smooth, and you have one hell of a hangover later.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Sunday, December 9, 2007
The Christmas Season
So, for date #4, I took Superman to see the King's Singers Joy to the World Christmas concert. Superman is, of course, Jewish, and is a visual, not musical artist, but whatever. He said he would enjoy it, so we went.
Well, I can't say anything about his enjoyment (although he did a very good job of appearing rapt), but I LOVED it!!! The King's Singers are a singing group that originated at King's College in Cambridge, but they sort of graduated from the university and never stopped singing. It's a sextet (I think--there are six of them, anyway), and they are AWESOME. They sang all sorts of medieval carols from all over--Russia, Spain, Germany, England. They sang the Coventry Carol (a personal favorite), a beautiful rendition of Stille Nacht, and a jazzy version of Deck the Halls. They did just an amazing job, and I really, really enjoyed listening to them.
The rest of the date ended a little less auspiciously, sadly. We had gone to dinner beforehand, and I had come up with the brilliant idea of splitting our meal. Normally, that's totally fine, but I was really, really hungry, and I actually probably could have eaten a full meal by myself. So, I ended the meal still feeling a weensy bit peckish. Needless to say, by the time the concert ended, I was famished, and even the freshly baked cookies that Superman had brought me couldn't assuage my hunger pains. By the time we actually got out of the parking lot and to a restaurant, I was in full-blown low-blood sugar ickiness. I felt like throwing up, and I was babbling incoherently.
Superman, ever the gentleman (at least so far), was very patient and kind. Because the concert was in Fairfax--or about 30 minutes closer to his house than mine--he took me back to his house and installed me on his couch (when I've gone so long without eating, the only thing that helps is food and a horizontal position), and we started watching a movie. We didn't finish it because we were both falling asleep, so we finally went to bed (he offered to drive me home, but I wasn't feeling good enough for 30 minutes sitting up, and anyway, he was clearly exhausted and I don't want to die). The next morning, he eventually took me home (okay, it was the afternoon by that time), where I left immediately for a friend's party, seeing as how I was two hours late. Oops.
I also, due to my overwhelming nausea, missed my friend's birthday party. People are going to think I'm one of those girls who blows everyone off when she meets a new boy...
Well, I can't say anything about his enjoyment (although he did a very good job of appearing rapt), but I LOVED it!!! The King's Singers are a singing group that originated at King's College in Cambridge, but they sort of graduated from the university and never stopped singing. It's a sextet (I think--there are six of them, anyway), and they are AWESOME. They sang all sorts of medieval carols from all over--Russia, Spain, Germany, England. They sang the Coventry Carol (a personal favorite), a beautiful rendition of Stille Nacht, and a jazzy version of Deck the Halls. They did just an amazing job, and I really, really enjoyed listening to them.
The rest of the date ended a little less auspiciously, sadly. We had gone to dinner beforehand, and I had come up with the brilliant idea of splitting our meal. Normally, that's totally fine, but I was really, really hungry, and I actually probably could have eaten a full meal by myself. So, I ended the meal still feeling a weensy bit peckish. Needless to say, by the time the concert ended, I was famished, and even the freshly baked cookies that Superman had brought me couldn't assuage my hunger pains. By the time we actually got out of the parking lot and to a restaurant, I was in full-blown low-blood sugar ickiness. I felt like throwing up, and I was babbling incoherently.
Superman, ever the gentleman (at least so far), was very patient and kind. Because the concert was in Fairfax--or about 30 minutes closer to his house than mine--he took me back to his house and installed me on his couch (when I've gone so long without eating, the only thing that helps is food and a horizontal position), and we started watching a movie. We didn't finish it because we were both falling asleep, so we finally went to bed (he offered to drive me home, but I wasn't feeling good enough for 30 minutes sitting up, and anyway, he was clearly exhausted and I don't want to die). The next morning, he eventually took me home (okay, it was the afternoon by that time), where I left immediately for a friend's party, seeing as how I was two hours late. Oops.
I also, due to my overwhelming nausea, missed my friend's birthday party. People are going to think I'm one of those girls who blows everyone off when she meets a new boy...
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