The one who I wished was a boy

You know you're not a lesbian when you think a girl is really hot, but wish is a man.

So I gave it a try several times: dating girls. I would be a good lesbian! I'm much less intimidated by women, I can charm them, get their number and be sweet. Around guys I say stupid things or nothing at all figuring they're all a bunch of wankers anyway.

Angela was this gorgeous German lesbian. I met her when my band was playing at a pizza joint. She was this totally hot gal, messy short hair, good skin, meat on her bones and had this deep voice. The German accent made her even hotter and gayer. I don't know why, but it did. I love accents I guess.

We met eyes from across the room, but I didn't know if actually happened or if it was just a random eye contact thing that happens with strangers. I'm sure this happens all the time with people, but I'm oblivious because I don't trust it. But somehow we started talking and we exchanged emails claiming she wanted to hear the band again. My band really sucked, so I assumed she was trying to pick me up!

She was really into Native American religion, once a week she would go to a sweat lodge and she even started doing vision quests. Angela also went to pow-wows whenever there was one around. She worked with patients who where healing from brain injuries and studying to be an art therapist. This girl was interesting and cool. But she was also one of those self-righteous people that told me that drinking Diet Coke is really bad for me. Thanks, I know!

Anyway, other than meeting for coffee (and a Diet Coke) briefly, my only date with Angela was a party at her artistic friend's house. She showed up looking all cute with her hair in a faux hawk, a striped polo shirt, corduroy pants and converse sneakers. I was thinking, "man, she looks awesome, but I wish she was a guy!"

After the party, which was super fun by the way, we made out a little. When I had my hands around her back, I hated that she was wearing a bra! And it wasn't because I wanted her to take it off. It was like, "oh yeah, I'm making out with a girl! damn."

Afterwards, she tried to get me to go out with her again, but I was really busy with grad school. She told me that "I believe everything happens for a reason. if you want to hang out with me you will." And I'm thinking, "cool, I don't need to explain shit to this one!"

I think that was my last attempt at dating women. I'm not saying I won't try again, I'm just saying that maybe I'm not into butch lesbians so much. Maybe I should try girls that dress like girls.

The one who got high off NyQuil

I'm not kidding.

Mike didn't come to one of my house parties in college because he was TOO HIGH FROM DRINKING TOO MUCH NYQUIL!!! What? We had our own keg, full with regular alcohol, what's wrong with Rolling Rock? Not strong enough for you?

Wow, can I pick 'em... why did I like this boy? Oh yeah, he loved The Beatles, had worked for the British Parliament and loved British Indie rock, which I think is a good reason to like someone. Really, I do. One night he played the guitar and sang to me. I'm kind of a sucker for that. He had good CD collection and went to shows. I'm a music whore, what can I say?

I met Mr. NyQuil Drinker at another house party, and that night passed up a wonderful opportunity to makeout with the one with great hair in a weak moment. DAMN! I'm sure that's one thing I'll regret on my death bed.

We were friends, kinda, when we lived in the same city after college. He started going bald at the age of 24. I laughed. Too much NyQuil?



****As a side note, I thought it was interesting that many a googler has found this post by looking up "NyQuil High" or something like that. It must be trendy like sniffing glue...

The one who loved Led Zeppelin

He was my 23rd birthday present.

I worked with Ron for about a year and I thought he was adorable. He was a short, but not too skinny, funny, cute, lover of music, especially Led Zeppelin, and was a total flirt. But of course, he had a super hot Phillipino girlfriend.

But they eventually broke up.

We bonded over Zeppelin. He gave me copies of some of the many Zeppelin CD's he had including a couple of those really cool "Influences of" they made now featuring Muddy Waters and old British folk music tunes. He even overdubbed 2001: A Space Oydssey with Zeppelin music, I think we were stoned when we watched it. It was one of the coolest things I had ever seen, it was like playing Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon while watching The Wizard of Oz. He said he would make me a copy.

We had a good makeout session after that, which made my actions on my 23rd birthday understandable.

I had my 23rd birthday celebration at a martini bar and got just completely wasted. Everyone kept buying me expensive and exotically flavored drinks that I would never order myself.

There are pictures of me from that night hugging my friends in pure glee, my eyes are totally glazed over. I'm in total bliss.

Someone took me home and Ron got out of the car to give me a good night hug and I drunkenly said,

"Aren't you coming in?" and he just looked at me and responded,
"You're horny aren't you?"
"It's my birthday!" (This was the only thing I could come up with?)

So we're making out on my bed and my roommate is making out with her quasi-boyfriend on her bed. My roommate and I shared a room in the attic of a large house, the room was kinda an "L" shape," so I couldn't see her bed from where I slept, although this doesn't make the situation any less bizarre, but hey, it was college and we were drunk. Very drunk.

At some point we convinced the boys to do a little striptease for us. It was pretty awesome, I have not had the pleasure of anyone since entertaining me with a striptease. Ron got totally into it, my roommates' boy was a little embarrassed. At some point, I just jumped Ron cause he's just so damn cute.

He later tells me that we can't have sex because I'm just too good of a friend. Which was absolutely fine with me since I was still a virgin. It is funny though that we could do all sorts of other things, but actual sex was out of the question.

We stayed friends (unfortunately without benefits from them on) until I moved away and we then sorta lost touch.

He randomly called me last month wanting to know if he could enter my name in the competition to win tickets to the Led Zeppelin reunion concert in London in honor of late, great Ahmet Ertegun, the Producer from Atlantic records who discovered and signed them. He said that if I won, I had to take him. Sure Ron, sure.

I'm still waiting for that Zeppelin/Space Oydssey DVD.

The one who reminded us of Gonzo

I have no idea why I even liked him, but we where 11! Why do you have a crush on anybody when you're 11? For some reason he reminded me and my friends of Gonzo, not quite sure why. Maybe it had something to do with the nose? That's certainly not why I liked him though, I know I have weird taste, but looking like Gonzo is not something I look for in men. I had a crush on him for about a week, right before my real first crush ("the one that had his own symbol" to come later) that lasted several years.

I also went to college with him and would see him around every so often. His friend asked me to their bizarre frat formal (stay tune for "the one with the weird arm"). He later told me that when he would go home to visit his parents, he would drink and drive after being out in the bars, I mean what other choice do you have if you want to go to a bar!?

He's a lawyer now.

Glad I never dated him. Even when I was 11.

The one who was painfully shy

Dormcest. I've been told to avoid it, but only after the fact.

I lived on a co-ed floor my freshman year of college with a bunch of art, music and engineering students. It was a bizarre combination, but it seemed to work out well. We were all a little dorky, awkward, creative and comfortable staying in on a Friday night.

Two doors down was this adorable sophomore named Micah, he was from a very rural part of the state. He told me once that there was so little to do in his hometown, high school students either drank a lot or watched TV a lot. He was the kid who had no friends and watched TV. Micah was super quiet and shy.

We had these Ugly Betty moments, you know where Betty and Henry see each other and can't stop smiling? It was pretty cute. We would listen to music and watch TV, I remember he liked U2 as much as I did. I would get that feeling in my stomach every time I got to the top floor of the stairwell or got out of the elevator. It was pretty obvious that he liked me, and I'm usually incredibly oblivious to these things. I think my stupid compulsive liar of a roommate might have just come out and told him I liked him, I'm not sure. I've tried to block her out.

Finally one day I dragged him out to the stairwell and had some awkward little talk with him about how I liked him and I knew he liked me too. I don't think we kissed since we were both way to junior high about the whole thing. Micah and I did get to hang out on Halloween though. We ended up going to a haunted house where they wanted us all to hold hands as they led us through the "scary" rooms. All I kept thinking was that this was a great idea, get someone to make us hold hands, that's all we needed, someone to force us to hold hands. We kept holding hands as we went home. How freaking junior high. This was my first year of COLLEGE remember.

He was an architecture student and his department worked them hard. Lots of hours building models in the studio, Micah wasn't around much. And when he was, he was still SUPER shy around me. I was like, okay, we already know that we both like each other, why are you still tiptoeing around me? I'm sick of making all the moves!! About two weeks after "the talk" in the stairwell, I was in his room and there was this weird energy between us. He says something about not having time for a girlfriend at the moment and I'm like "fine, you're lame anyway."

For the rest of the school year, we kinda avoided each other and I still got that feeling in my stomach every time I got to the top of the stairwell or got out of the elevator.

The one who was so hot and didn't speak much english

You would usually see this is as every man's fantasy, right? A hot blonde Swedish woman who speaks broken English, like Ulla in The Producers, and is just fine with putting out.

I met Reuven the evening before my birthday while I was in Israel at a hot springs near his kibbutz. Something told me that I wanted to talk to him, maybe the sulfur fumes had gotten to my head. But, he was a young, wet, good-looking Israeli. They make them hot over there I tell you! We start talking and he invites me to meet his two American friends and have a cigarette, which by the way, was a special kibbutz brand that is strong enough to make a non-smoker feel like you've just taken a hit of marijuana. nice.

I was feeling giddy and bold and invited them back to where we were staying for pre-birthday celebrations of beer, vodka and juice and hookas. I didn't think he would show up, but he did! But only for 20 minutes or so before his friend needed to leave for some I-not-feeling-so-good reason. I was sad that I didn't get a picture with this hottie. But I was glad to have "pulled" a nice young man, as the British would say.

Even though I was super hung over the next morning and puked all over the parking lot of a Golan Heights military fort (a totally different story) I had a wonderful birthday and a sweet Valentines day, which is a day after my birthday. Reuven kept sending me text messages in his horribly broken english like "Happy Valletimes Day sweety."

He invites me to come up to visit a week later. My cousins encourage it. I feel weird about getting on a three hour bus ride for a booty call! But I do.

This man is hot, and he knows it, people told him this when he was in the army. But since he lives on a kibbutz near his family, he doesn't get out much. He works in the kibbutz greenhouse with his plant "babies," which I'm sure added to the romantic fantasies of this lazy American city gal.

We watch Friends and The Simpsons and he laughs at all of the stupid jokes that a foreigner would enjoy, like the fart jokes. We make out, go to a local bar 20 minutes down the road, take funny pictures, we sing in the car to Joe Cocker (who they all LOVE over there) and I mostly talk to his American friend. We get back to his little room and make out under the large poster of the half-naked women on the wall.

As you will soon learn, I seem to attract men with sexual problems that the ladies in Sex in the City dump boyfriends for. This hot Israeli can't keep it up after a condom has been placed on his member, but I'm happy to make out all night. The next morning, he goes off to work and I go back to Tel Aviv.

I go back a week later, for more of the same. But this time just the two of us go the bar on the "mighty" Jordan River, where people from all over the world come to get baptized. And we don't have much to talk about since there's this language barrier. We go back to his room nonetheless and try again, the same thing happens.

Whatever, it's fine, no threat of having Jewish babies for me at this juncture.

Reuven sends me emails sometimes. He asked for a picture of me and wants to come visit me in the United States. He wants me to come travel with him in Central America. I'm happy to have him stay when he comes, but we'll see about Honduras and Beliz. Is this part of the fantasy? Are you supposed to get emails months after? But he's sooo hot!

His emails are hysterical and adorable, they go something like this:

hey girl how you doing? i had some problems with my
internet and now i can send you an e-mail.  so what
are you doing in these days? are you working or
something like this?

One of the best parts about all of this whole encounter is that before I left his place the second time, he gave me this silly fake Hawaiian leis he had lying around. I found this so funny on so many levels:

1) The "I got laid" joke is always funny!
2) I didn't get laid.
3) I said "I got laid" out loud and laughed in front of him.
4) He didn't get it when I said it.

classic.

The one who went to the bathroom and never came back

Might as well start this off with a bang!

I do a lot of online dating. It's an easy way for me to avoid my fear of talking to cute boys that I think are out of my league. If they've read my profile, seen my pictures, and they still want to go out with me, the hard part is out of the way. It's just the actual chemistry that might be absent, but that's another story.

I met Colin online, on one of those "online dating for smart people" websites, how pretentious. We planned to meet at a bar and then go see a band I had found on myspace and was curious about. Turns out this guys is 32, grown an unemployed beard, and now that I think back on it, probably completely stoned. Not that there's anything wrong with these things, but let's just say this dude was not a winner. Conversation is fine, not amazing, but not awkward. His phone rings, he let's it go to voice mail, which I thought was classy. We've been there for about an hour, and decide to go to the club, but first he's got to go to the bathroom, and off he goes.

You know that feeling when you're out with someone, doesn't matter if it's a date or you're out with your grandmother, and they leave you at the table while they pee? It's weird right? So I wait, I watch the group of people laugh and giggle to my right, I chat with the waitress when she asks me if I want another drink. Wow, Colin has been in there for awhile... Did he fall in? Is he puking from an allergic reaction? Is he having a Ewan McGregor trainspotting moment in the loo?

"Hey, excuse me," I say to a nice looking guy that just came from where the bathrooms are, "was there someone in the bathroom just now?" "Um yea, I think there was someone talking on the phone in the stall" Hmm, interesting, maybe he really needed to call that person back...

I give it another few minutes and get another drink.

This is weird. It's been 20 minutes... I'm embarrassed now to say that I even waited that long. How long would you have stayed?

I ask another guy to see if anyone is in the bathroom? "No one in there." "Thanks anyway."

I talk to the waitress and tell her what's going on, she can't believe it. I tell her that I'm leaving and if the guy comes back, tell him that I left and that he's a big douche bag.

I feel a little BAD about leaving. What if he was on a really important phone call with his manic depressive mother around the side of the bar? What if he's puking in the street? He could have at least excused himself! I should NOT feel bad, it's not like he was super hot or anything either, the man is an unemployed stoner for gods sake!

I get home, I send him a rude email... why not?

"That was a very inconsiderate rude thing to do, please do not contact me ever again."

It felt good! He didn't write back trying to explain himself, and now I have a wonderfully horrible dating story to tell my friends...

A few months later, I get an email from him on the same dating website. He says "hi, you're interesting, want to get a beer tonight?" He's not only forgotten that he's been out with me, he doesn't remember that he went to the bathroom and didn't come back! I write back:

"I'm not going out with you. Are you an idiot or too stoned to remember that I don't go out with the unemployed?"

What a tard.