Ahmusings

The 98% humorous musings of M. Lizabeth Currain

Tag: Love

Let’s Just Agree

We are all going to have to agree that this guy easily has the most boring, try-hard, obnoxious profile on OkCupid.The best part: He didn’t even put pictures of himself up! But don’t worry, he’s “not a troll.” I’m sorry, but if you are going to be on a dating site, just put up a picture. The fact that you don’t have one up doesn’t make you more appealing. It makes me think you’re an idiot. Give me a break. You’re so cool and handsome that you can’t put up a picture because you want to keep some things private? You do know you’re on an internet dating site, correct? What is wrong with people? Can’t they just be normal? Well, I’m going to break this profile down for you all. And since he doesn’t have any pictures up, I don’t really see the harm in cutting and pasting his profile into this post. Because he’s the worst. My comments are the bold/italicized gems.

metadatacontrol

33 / M / Straight / Single

My self-summary
First things first, no photo…wtf? Here’s the deal, I’m retracting a bit from the long scary fingers of the internet (see: You are not a Gadget by Jaron Lanier). But I promise I’m not a troll and might even be good looking. Damn good looking. Oh, and humble. (if you are that concerned about being on the internet…don’t create an online dating profile. It’s weird. And makes you seem desperate for attention.)

Ok, now that’s outta the way.

After too many fits and starts with this sucker, I’m just going to lay out an ideal day. If you’re with me by the end, we will most certainly click:

Sleep to a reasonable hour. First thing: Coffee. Serious coffee. (“Serious coffee”, because that makes me seem unique and women like unique.)

Stroll to the local brunch spot with my best girl on my arm. Order the usual, and yeah, drink some more Joe, its not as good as what I have at home, but it will do just fine. (To be honest, he lost me with the first sentence  in this part. I mean. Come on! I bet he wears boat shoes, with chinos that are tight and rolled at the ankle. And he wears a long-sleeved madras shirt but rolls the sleeves up. And probably a stupid hat. JUST A GUESS.)

Taking it easy, we meander on home. The sun is high and there’s not a cloud up there, so we decide that today is a perfect day for a long ride. We’ll cruise all the way down to Coney Island and around and about Brooklyn, hitting all of those places we haven’t been in forever. Nothing too crazy, but a good sweat will be worked up nonetheless. (Christ all mighty. Even things that sound normal, end up sounding terrible.)

Once back in the hood, quality pub-grub and a cold beer hit the spot. Perfect. Well fed and well exercised, we part ways and cruise back to our respective apartments. After a short but exceedingly hot shower, it’s time to get back to business. You see, there’s a really out-there but supposedly incredible band that I’ve been wanting to check out, and it being NYC, they’re playing tonight. (This day just keeps getting worse. A “really out-there but supposedly incredible band”? Barf.)

We re-convene at the club and get ready to have our ears stretched and challenged. Unfortunately, it turns out these guys really kind of suck (or at least are having a very off night). Oh well. At least it was a free show. Damn. So we head to the nearest dive and over some whiskey (neat, thanks) we laugh about the awful music to which we were just subjected. (Free show in a club? Right. LIES! And wait, why are you saying thanks? Did I just have to buy your whiskey for you? And what is it with all of you and whiskey?! If all your friends were jumping off a bridge, would you jump too?! And I bet he liked that shitty band even though they sucked. But he didn’t want to seem lame, so he had to pretend it was terrible.)

Blowing out of there, we end up at a warehouse party in some industrial Neverland part of Brooklyn. And the DJ rocks. Like really rocks. It’s one of those nights where 3 hours on the dance floor floats by like nothing, we run into some friends we haven’t seen in ages (what are you doing here?!), and stumble back onto the street just before the sun starts to come up. (When I read this part I clawed my face off. I am having a hard time imagining anything worse than being at a warehouse party with a guy in boat shoes who says things like, “what are you doing here?” Obviously they are there to fucking dance you idiot. Jesus.)

Somehow we make it back to my place. After another hot shower (this one not quite so short), we crash out in each other’s arms, the echoes of the day fading into a delicate blur. (What a wad, seriously.)

Ahhh…sweet NYC. (He must be new in town.)

What I’m doing with my life

See above. And… (You mean that wasn’t a joke?)

By day, I do nifty things involving large, heavy electronic equipment with lots of flashing lights and spinning disks. It’s pretty cool and keeps me on my toes. By night I make heady, rather experimental electronic music of the decidedly not cheesy variety. Its a good mix. (Just say you are a DJ. Or a musician. Stop being so vague, you asshole.)

Otherwise, I like try to bike, hike, and get-down as much as possible, both in and out of town.

I’m really good at

Sometimes, I’m incredibly insightful. Other times, I’m an asshole. (I’m guessing by “other times” he means “all the time.”

Just like you.

The first things people usually notice about me

My amazing good looks and daring intellect. Obviously. (Oh look, he’s trying to be funny. But we know he actually means this. He might be a psychopath.)

Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food

Shouldn’t this be a part of the first date? Besides, I’m horrible at favorites. So let’s go one answer each of current interests:

Books: Burning in Water, Drowning in Flame – Bukowski (I bet he carries it in his back pocket.)
Movies: Repulsion. (Roman Polanski is kind of a fucker, but wow.) (At least he can separate the art from the artist? Can’t these people ever just say they like Kindergarten Cop or something? Why do they always have to prove how deep they are with their movie choices?)
Shows: nope. (Oh look. He thinks he’s too good for tv! Well guess what!? You’re not impressing anyone by saying you don’t watch tv. In fact, this makes you seem even more terrible, if that’s even possible.)
music: Tom Waits and old stuff, mostly. (Old stuff, because I’m an old soul.)
Food: yes.(I’m actually surprised he didn’t list every foreign cuisine he’s ever had.)

The six things I could never do without

Bicycle, Music, Sex (let’s be honest here), toothbrush, and at least 2 of my 5 senses. (I can’t really harp on this, because this question is pretty much bullshit anyways.)

I spend a lot of time thinking about

I think I’ve pretty well covered all of that, but add synthesizers. I am a total synth-geek.(Did he actually cover anything?)

On a typical Friday night I am

Sorting out the mysteries of the universe or elbow deep in culture of some-type. (“Elbow deep in culture”? Are you fucking serious? Going to a “warehouse dance party” only makes you elbow deep in assholes, asshole.)

The most private thing I’m willing to admit

I like a little kink in my coffee. (Wait, did he just admit he’s an alcoholic?)

You should message me if

NYC hasn’t burnt-out your creativity. You like to ride or at least aren’t opposed to the idea. You crave good coffee and strong whiskey. Ahh, and being cute doesn’t hurt either.(I think craving good coffee and strong whiskey is weird. Am I supposed to be dependent on it? Also, why do I have to be cute? You didn’t even post a picture!)

I seriously hate this guy. Hate him. I mainly hate him because OkCupid says we have a 93% match rate. Like what the fuck OkC?! I obviously am A) Too good for this guy and B) Not a complete asswipe. Why can’t you match me with someone who doesn’t want to take me to a warehouse party, where he forces me to do lines of coke off of his dick, and then hacks my body into pieces? YOUR ALGORITHM IS OFF.

Another Installment

Sometimes when I’m feeling a little down or just bored, I look at male catalog models and make up chick-literature like stories about them. It’s a fun way to pass the time. And it never gets old. Seriously, read them more than once, they get more ridiculous with each reading.

Some back story: This is Jason (editor’s note: at least that’s what I’ve been calling him) and he comes from the Eddie Bauer catalog. Jason likes hiking and being out in nature. He teaches horticulture classes at one of the universities where he lives. He loves playing Words with Friends, he can’t get enough of it. He especially loves trying to beat his girlfriend at it…but he never does. Sometimes he cheats and she knows, but she lets him get away with it, because he’s so handsome and always makes her blueberry pancakes on the Saturday mornings when they’re together. They’ve been going out for a little while and he’s been looking for the right time to tell her something…and what better time than when you’re on a hike?

“Jason, just because I said I liked hiking doesn’t mean that I like hiking.” M. sighed heavily as she took off her backpack.

Jason looked at her with a small smile on his face, “So what does it mean, M?”

“It means that I like the idea of hiking. There’s a serious difference.” M sat on nearby rock and took a sip of her water.

“I just thought it would be a nice way for us to spend the day together.”

“Ugh, you are making it impossible for me to be hating this right now. It’s just that, you know how I feel about going to the bathroom outdoors.”

Jason laughed, “I know, I know! It’s actually kind of endearing, you not wanting to pee in the wilderness.”

“Oh shut up! It’s easy for you! I have to make sure I don’t pee on myself! That’s not cool at all!” M tossed her water bottle at him and he laughed as he caught it.

“You’re so weird.”

“I know.” She looked at him smiling.

“That’s why I love you.” Jason sat next to her on rock.

“Wait, what did you just say?” M turned to look at him, not sure if he had actually said those words to her.

“I said I love you.”

“That’s what I thought you said.” Jason touched the side of her face and sighed.

“You’re so beautiful. I just want to tell you that every day.”

M let out a small laugh, “I won’t stop you.”

“Nice. This is why I keep you around.” Jason put his arm around M’s and she rested her head on his shoulder, nestling herself into the groove of his neck.

“I love you too.”

Jason looked down at her, “Really?”

M looked up and laughed, “Ha! Why are you so surprised? I was just waiting for you to say it first.”

Jason rolled his eyes, “You would! You’re so difficult.”

“Whatever, you love me.” M. smiled.

“I know.” Jason pulled M.’s face up to his and kissed her.

“See, that’s why I keep you around.” M grabbed Jason’s hand as they sat on that rock, watching the leaves glisten in the sunlight.

Favorite Thing: Male Eddie Bauer Models

Okay, obviously if I am here posting on a Saturday night, I did not go out and buy a stranger a drink. So sue me. I did however, do a yoga dvd. At one point, when the dude in the video was telling me to breathe, I said, “oh blow it out your ass.” As much as I try to make it, I don’t think yoga is necessarily for me. Aaaaaannnnnddddd….I just ate an ice cream sundae. Fuck yeah, I’m alone on a Saturday night watching Zoolander, eating ice cream, and blogging about Eddie Bauer models. Try not to die of jealousy.

Eddie Bauer catalog, light of my life. This catalog is probably one of the best things that I get in the mailbox. Well, technically my roommate gets it in the mail and I hi-jack it. This is why:

 

I built this dock myself.

 

I imagine this guy just pulled up to the dock outside of his remote cabin. I’m sure he built that cabin with his bare hands. He just needed a place he could retreat to, to clear his mind. He probably fell into a really great advertising job, but he missed working with his hands. That’s why he built the cabin. It has a working fire place and a Navajo inspired rug he sourced from a local village artisan in the southwest. The moment he arrives, he lights the fire and pours himself a tumbler of scotch. Then lays down on his vintage leather couch with a copy of Tender is the Night. There’s a knock at the door. He pads lightly over to the door and smiles when he sees who is standing there, “I thought you’d never get here.” He pulls her into the cabin by her waist, kissing her passionately. She sighs against his mouth, “You have no idea.” She grabs his scotch and takes a sip, letting the glass linger on her lips. He takes the glass from her hand and puts it on the hand-carved, oak side table. He pulls off his fair isle sweater and tosses it on the couch. He grins while he runs a hand through his hair. He lays down in front of the fire, extending his hand to her. She bites her lower lip as he pulls her down on top of him….

Huh? What was I talking about? Oh right. There’s also this guy:

 

Sorry, I didn’t have time to shave…I was busy rebuilding an old plane.

 

I bet he’s a pilot. He owns a small plane. It’s May and he has some place to be. He absolutely can not be late. He hops into his plane and just flies. When he arrives, he just stands in the back, waiting. When the ceremony is over, he sees her talking with a few of her friends. He pushes through the crowd grabs her hand. She turns around and when she sees him, her eyes light up, “You made it! I thought you had a meeting.” He pulls her into him, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world. It’s not every day my girlfriend gets her Ph.D. ” She laughs, “I guess not! But how did you get here?” He brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, “I flew.” She puts her hands on his shoulders, “You flew?” He gently kisses the side of her mouth, “Of course I flew, I had to be here. I love you.”

And scene.

Seriously. This is how I spend my days. Waiting for the Eddie Bauer catalog to arrive in the mail so that I can make up romanticized stories about their male models. It’s not a bad way to live. Do you think if I called their customer service and asked for the names and phone numbers of these models, they would give them to me?

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