Fiction Friday.

"Hey, you GUYS!!!"

I decided that I have spent way too much time contemplating and complaining. That doesn't do much for anyone, except me as I enjoy contemplating and complaining. So, in an effort to re-ignite my creative juices (which have seriously dried up due to lack of use and apathy) I am going to write a piece of fiction every Friday and add it to my blog.

I know you're probably thinking, "But Lauren, we love your anecdotes about why you hate everyone and everything and how you want to kill people with spoons." Well, I'm sorry, dear reader (and yes, I know there is only ONE of you.) But I sorely need to spread my wings and prepare to fly. In my blog life and indeed, in my REAL life, as I do kinda have one of those. And you're probably also thinking to yourself, "But someone may see her wonderful piece of fiction and steal it and claim it as their own, make millions of dollars and laugh at her while she continues wasting away at her stinking day job." All I have to say to that is, "Yeah. Right."

So. Stay tuned tomorrow for my first stab at a Fiction Friday. Until then, enjoy this tasty little story about a date I went on recently. It's pretty silly and full of hi-jinks (or low jinks as you are about to read.)

I ran into a friend of mine from middle school at a stand up show recently. She was with a group of friends, but I was tired, cranky, and a little drunk so I made a little small talk and vamoosed. We friended each other on the Facebook, and on an evening where I was feeling a)vulnerable and b) exhausted, I agreed to go on a date with one of the gentlemen that was there that evening. I gave her my number, and immediately got a text from the guy, which lead to back and forth texting until the day of our scheduled date, a Friday night. He proposed that we go and watch The Goonies in the park after getting some dinner downtown. I swooned a little, as this seemed like a date made in heaven for nerdbag me.

Friday came and I was swamped at work. A needy bride and her teary mother held my attention until 5:45, with our scheduled meet time of 6:30. I ran home, bathed and primped, and headed out the door by ten til meet time. I texted that I would be late, and he responded that it was no big deal as I should hear what happened to him on Wednesday. I brushed this off as I searched for a parking spot and headed to our allocated meet up spot, near a fountain in downtown West Palm Beach. Assuming that my date was not the homeless man with dreadlocks sleeping on a bench, I inquired as to where he was via text message. He responded that he was down the ways a bit, so I started walking, a bit put off that he wasn't in the exact spot that we had agreed upon, but acknowledging that I was late and should suck it up.

As I approached the intersection he had mentioned, I texted again to inquire as to where I could locate him, as I couldn't see anyone matching the Facebook profile pictures I had seen whilst gently stalking him prior to the date. No response. Waiting. What seems like forever later, I get a message that says, "I'm the tiny guy in the brown shirt sitting on a post." I look across the street and there he is, in all his tiny glory. We awkwardly say hello, and he tells me we should have dinner at a sushi restaurant, though Happy Hour is almost over.

I'm gonna give highlights from now on, as I could tell the whole tale, but you'd probably be snoring by the end.

a) we order food and I'm too nervous to tell him I'm allergic to soy, so eat around the edamame on our appetizer. He eats three of 4 scallops.

b) First anecdote out of the gate is about how he went on a date on the Wednesday before (two days ago at this juncture) and the girl was so awkward and wouldn't talk and he had a horrible time. Leads to me overly trying to be delightful and entertaining.

c) He jokingly, yet vehemently, calls the waitress a bitch for being slow in bringing the check.

d) He goes to the bathroom as THE CHECK IS BEING BROUGHT TO THE TABLE.

e) I pay as we have 5 minutes until the movie starts. When he comes back, he congratulates me on being "Progressive" and slowly offers me cash. I deny it as don't want to be non-progressive.

f) Movie is fine. Til halfway through when he disappears and reappears with Skittles, a Snickers bar, a coke and a sprite. Not sure which one he got for me, I eat the Skittles as they won't make me die and refuse to select a beverage.

g) He thinks the addition of Sloth to the film is too much. Sloth is my favorite part.

h) We head to World of Beer, where he hems and haws about ordering a dark beer. Asks the waitress what her opinion is, and takes her advice. Upon taking the first sip, he calls her a bitch for telling him to get the wrong beer.

i) He gets drunk on one beer. I am not drunk enough for this.

j) We part ways. He keeps calling. I keep making up excuses for no next date, though I should just ball up and say I had fun but not interested. Maybe he'll see this blog. Maybe not.

Another one bites the dust.

Meh.

Life's complicated. Love is worse. Something that was once two people meeting and having a connection has turned into a series of auditions that make me more nervous than any play in which I have ever tried to get a part. As an improviser, I have the utmost faith in my ability to get on a stage and make stuff up in order to entertain people. But get me in front of a strange audience of one male or on the phone for more than 5 minutes with a male I have yet to meet and I turn into a mush-mouthed mental 12 year old.

You know you've been single too long when your best friend's mom is trying to set you up with guys. My very best friend, Jen, knew a guy when she was 12 years old who still lives around town and works at a restaurant where her mom, Corinne, frequently dines. She loves this man. So much so that when he complained that he was just looking for a nice girl to settle down with, a light bulb went off over her head and she thought, "Lauren!" A slightly convoluted meet cute occurred. Corinne got Jen to send her a photo of me, he saw it, liked it, gave his number to Corinne, who gave it to Jen, who texted him my number after asking me permission to do so. See? Convoluted.

He called me last night while I was in my writer's meeting, and left a nervous sounding voicemail. I called back, and in the midst of leaving a message actually said, "I'm sorry I missed your call. I was presenting at a writer's meeting at the library...yeah, fun stuff. Anyway!!" Doh. I received another vm today, while at work, telling me he had to be at work at 5, which is when I get out of work. Not looking too good on the communication side, but Jen vouches for the guy and one date won't hurt. We keep missing each other on the old phone, but I'll keep trying. You never know who you're going to meet and why. This guy may be my new best friend. Who knows? Not me.

I do know I'm starting to get tired of this area. Not only because the available men have the mental acuity of a pre-teen. There is just too much history here and too many connections with people whom I would rather never see again. I've been seriously thinking about moving to L.A. in November, riding the waves of the Comic Convention season out there and just seeing where Bailee and I can go with our web comic and our general comedy shenanigans. I feel as if she and I are destined to do something bigger together...maybe I'm just re-directing the general need for a soul mate to one of a creative partner and kindred spirit. All I know is that she makes me feel like I am funny and it's been a long time since I felt that. I have things that I need to do before then, like produce another Jiggles and Giggles. But it's about time to actually start that "living like there's no tomorrow" thing that all the country singers like to sing about.

It's time for a change. I've already changed myself enough...now I just need to change the world.

Life is ridiculously funny.

It's been a strange couple of months. I've been on some dates and gotten booked to speak at a comic book convention, and gotten into some hijinks and shenanigans. This blog will be a free for all to really detail some of the things that are going on in the Guarded Area.

The dating front. It is hard out there, people! The moment you feel a connection with someone, a shinier minnow comes their way and they are gone. It's good that people are so ADD because if genuine affection was actually created, there would be tons more heartache than there currently has been/is in my life. I have a date lined up this weekend. I planned it. We're going putt putt golfing. I couldn't stand the idea of sitting down in a coffee shop and making awkward conversation. We'll see how it goes. The guy enjoys the fact that I use Simpson-isms when I speak. Plus one.

On the negative side of dating, there are the absolutely ridiculous things that people say and do when they are on an online dating site. I have actually been guilt tripped by people for not writing them back immediately. The expectation is that if you are on an online dating service that is all your life is about. Finding the one. Sorry, I have a job, friends, family and a creative life that keeps me distracted. These guys also don't know how to market themselves to women of quality. I got a message from a man today who's screen name is Lovesblackpuss. Sorry, sir. You will not be hearing back from me. I'm not even sure why you messaged me, to be honest.

If this weekends date goes poorly, I will probably be removing myself from all sites. The pressure and judgments on who you are in 500 words or less and based on the images you carefully pick to represent the real you is a little overwhelming. If only I had stayed with my high school boyfriend and popped out a couple of kids at the get-go, I might have missed out on this stress-fest. Regardless, the time has come to focus more on my career.

I recently interviewed for a part time teaching position at a Christian school, teaching drama to 7th and 8th graders 4 hours a week. If I get it, my boss at Ironhorse has said that I could change my schedule to do both things. I am incredibly blessed to be able to do what I love and also have a career that pays the bills. Stating that...

Bailee and I are doing the web comic thing, and it is going incredibly well. We're still looking into how to market it better, but we've been invited to speak at a comic book convention Comikaze Expo in LA in November by a lady who thinks our comic rocks. Comediva is stupendously supportive, and we may be writing a whole series of articles about our upcoming trip to Comic-Con in July, which we will be attending as nerds.

The only downfall is that while I am extremely excited about this and the potential it has to be great, there are still and always will be people in my life who are more logical, who believe that the trip is a boondoggle (a Kirk Pottinger term.) It's really hard when you are excited about something and the people who are closest to you nay-say. I've always been a pretty sensitive soul, and it completely sucks to be so excited about something only to have the negative creep in to taint it. It's a constant source of stress and though I'll deal, it's just how I'm feeling today. My family is constantly supportive of my creative endeavors, and for that I am grateful...I just need to be making more money at it for it to mean anything solid. It'll happen. I'm putting that out there. Thoughts become things.

Stay tuned for a separate blog about my recent visit to the set of Burn Notice!!

I wore heels for this?!?!?!

I have a pair of fabulous high heels. They are purple and sparkly with high, thin heels. They make me feel like a rock star when I wear them, though my ankles tend to feel slightly weak and sore a day or two after I wear them. Last night I pulled them out of the closet for a date that I thought looked promising. It was not.

*Not my actual foot.

It's not that it was a horrible date. We went to dinner at Brewzii and caught Michael McDonald at the Improv for free. The format of the date was sound. However, when someone of the opposite sex admits (halfway through the date) that they could have lined up an out phone call with a friend, it kind of puts a damper on things. When they further admit that they experimented with every drug out there and ended up in Florida to go to rehab, that's an even bigger red flag. And when, after 3 and a half hours of conversation and 2 hilarious stand-ups, your date says the highlight of his evening was watching the manager of the Improv chase a guy who walked out on his bill, you pretty much know you've seen the last of this particular gentleman.

After a goodbye that consisted of "See ya" as he pulled out his cell phone and walked away, I wandered in the direction of my car, thinking to myself that I was leaving yet another bomb of a date, about to pay $9 for parking, walking in the painful yet hot shoes that I had chosen to go with a lavender silk shirt and jeans for this particular debacle. I decided I was not going to slink home with my tail between my aching legs, and made my way to the gelato shop at City Place. The adorable 18 year old boy working the counter scooped me some double chocolate gelato and as I paid in cash, he said,"We always appreciate singles at this hour." I said, "It's that obvious that I'm single and just had a bad date?" Confused, the young man handed me my change and said, "I meant the dollar bills." I grabbed the chocolatey goodness and ran. My sore tootsies directed me towards Barnes and Noble, where I grabbed Tina Fey's new book, thinking that my dating woes would help me be more inspired in my professional life.

As I checked out and wandered towards my car, I realized that this was all I needed. A good book, chocolate anything, and good friends to text when my evening didn't go as planned. I'm sure there is someone out there for me. Maybe not on PlentyOfCreeps.com. As my best friend said, it may be time for me to take a break so that Mr. Right can fall into my lap. I'll have to move Bossypants, the show that I'm producing, the web comic I'm writing, and a whole host of other things out of the way to make room for him.

Online Dating

Everyone has their own stories about online dating. Some are horrific. Some are adorable. Some are downright pornographic. I have been off an on all of the wonderful sites over the past several years, searching in vain for that special someone that I can make a cheesy, "We met and flowers exploded out of every orifice and unicorns cried," commercial with, to no avail. I have made decisions about whether or not to date a man based on even the smallest details on their profiles. Too young, too old, too buff, too annoying. As an experienced online dater, I would love to give tips to anyone thinking about breaching the annoyance and delight that is Plentyofmatchemistry.com's.

1. The one armed cell phone photo in the mirror is NOT CUTE. It makes me think you have no friends and don't ever go outside of your house. Also, the photo of you with a woman's head cut out of it? I'm sure this is not the end all be all of photos of you, and you should probably not indicate to me that you are a psycho who cuts his exes out of photos.

2. LOL, BRB, C U L8ER...not cute. If I wanted to text speak with you, I would give you my phone number. These are e-mails with no character limitations. Take the time to give details about yourself. Write full words. Don't use slang unless you want to seem like an uneducated toolbox. Also, learn the difference between your, you're, their, there, and they're. But that's for everyone on the planet.

3. If you are more than ten years older than I am, and you see on my profile that I am looking for men within a certain age range, don't message me. I got a Plentyoffish message from a 60 year old. I'm sorry, but I am looking for a mate and potential father of my children, not a sugar daddy. There are women out there with integrity.

4. If you list going to the gym and drinking as hobbies, move along. These are not hobbies. Hobbies are building miniature ships and putting them in bottles, or collecting Playboys. Alcoholics who drink six packs and have six pack abs may seem attractive, but not to quality women who have brains.

5. If you want to meet me after a couple of e-mails, make the decision. I don't want to have to go back and forth and try to figure out what you would like to do. I want to get to know you, so plan that first outing. I am old fashioned enough to believe that the boy should do the asking. Grow a pair.

6. If, for some reason, we do decide to meet, don't change your mind 15 times about the location. Chances are good I have taken a lot of time and energy to adapt my ensemble to the locale, so having to change 20 times makes me cranky. (This happened once. An hour before the date I got a message that he would be late. 45 minutes before I got a message that he couldn't contact the cute, indie coffee shop I'd selected for our meet up. We decided on Starbucks. As I drove there, he messaged saying he wanted to go to a fancy, popular restaurant instead. Ungh.) Oh, and SHOW UP!

7. If we are texting, please do not send me photos. I've seen your photos on the web, and certainly don't need to know what your workplace , your cat Jingles, your room at your parents house, or any other aspect of your life looks like. We haven't even met yet. And please, please...no shirtless, one armed shots. (I felt a need to re-iterate.)

Everyone out there is trying to find the one, and yes, this list may make me seem as if I am high maintenance. I just want to meet someone who is respectful, well read, decent to people, smart, and somewhat attractive to me. Is that too much to ask?!?!?!

Maybe it is. Harrumph.

Romantic Comedy...or my life?

My faith in humanity and men in general has been redeemed fully, and it's all because of a British man named Dave. I don't even know his last name.

I was supposed to go to dinner after a high school production of Hairspray with my friends, Maria and David. This quiet British gentleman had been quietly pursuing me via international texting after our profiles connected us on Plentyoffish.com. The evening before I had been painting at a BYOB art studio with my wonderful, amazing girlfriends, and could not meet up with him. I received a text query about meeting up on Sunday evening, and I was sweaty, broken out, and inappropriately attired. I was about to turn him down when a thought occurred to me. I am always so ready to go out and try new things when it comes to my friends, but what about my life and the potential Mr. Right that this lovely man could be? So, I looked at Maria in my passenger seat and said, "I'll drop you off. I'm going to meet him."

I texted that I would meet him in 45 minutes at CityPlace, where I had just had a non-alcoholic beverage with Maria and our friend Susan. I ran into my house, apologized to my parents for being gone all day and making even more plans to be away from my dirty room and piles of laundry, and tore through getting ready. I put on a lacy, girly dress with cowboy boots and chunky pink jewelry, and raced to CityPlace. I told him to meet me at the fountain.

There are 5 fountains at CityPlace.

He texted that he was at the one by the theater. I ran to Muvico, and there was no one there. Worried he had fled upon seeing me arrive, I lingered, until EPIPHANY! The Harriet Himmel Theater has a fountain in front of it. Feeling as if I was in a movie, I ran down the stairs, crossed the street...and there he was, illuminated by the twinkling lights and cascading water. He's about my height, handsome and put together, and the accent...the accent was lovely. As I approached he smiled at me and said, "You look absolutely stunning." Melt.

We proceeded to Brewzzi for dinner, and had a conversation ranging from performing arts, emotional concert reactions (my Bryan Adams sobbing came up), and religion. We had so many things in common it was startling. He studied theater and dance as a child and went into producing music for a while. His dog's name is Cassie...the main character from my graphic novel is named Cassie. He was respectful and excited about every word that was coming out of my mouth, and I was hanging on every sentence, laughing at all his jokes. We talked and chatted, and decided we did not want the night to end there. We walked and stopped by my car. I played a fun game of "Which car is mine?" where he proceeded to freak out that I owned a Mini Cooper. I dropped off my leftovers from dinner, and we walked from CityPlace down to Clematis under twinkly lights and tree limbs. We stopped at the corner of Clematis and Rosemary, and sat at a fountain with a giant globe sculpture, and just talked for an hour. He then walked me to my car and as we were exchanging pleasantries and saying goodbye, he gave me a peck on the lips in farewell. I gave him a hug, and he grabbed my face and kissed me again. And again. It was sweet, romantic and amazing. As he began to walk towards his car, he turned and said, "Thank you so very much for the lovely evening."

This morning I woke up to a text message. "Good morning, Lauren. Thank you again for a lovely evening. X."

Too bad he's going to Dusseldorf for 3 weeks. But it was, to quote my new favorite Brit, a lovely evening. Just lovely.*

*As an update for this post: The Englishman has been sent by work back to his native land, and will not return for at least a month, at which point he will pack his belongings and go back to the UK. At least we had a wonderful time together, and I now have an e-mail pen pal.

All dressed up...

The other night, my friend LG and I met up for dinner and drinks in Delray Beach. She is stunning, and on good nights I feel like I can run with the big dogs. We both decided to be ultra-girly and dress up for each other, as we see each other so rarely (she lives in Ft. Lauderdale and travels, I live in West Palm Beach and am a recluse). So, we made it a special occasion, both wearing dresses and high heels. We had a nice dinner, and headed over to another location named Tryst, where LG knows the bartender. He's a great guy, and we were having a great chat over wine and Bailey's (not combined...she had wine, I had Bailey's.)

We're chatting and catching up, and these two gentleman take seats next to LG, and I notice over her shoulder that they are checking her out. Maybe me as well, but I obviously have a complex, so we won't go there. While I am asking the bartender for a glass of water, the one nearest LG struck. He started asking what we were up to, blah blah, yadda, yadda. And LG is the sweetest person on the planet, so she begins having a conversation with this guy, who looks like Jeff Conaway circa Celebrity Rehab only 5 inches shorter, and his buddy, who is basically his mute, Indian sidekick (and not nearly as cool as Silent Bob).

I am basically ignoring them, until Kinickie decides to get up and come over to me and start asking me questions about me, at which point my smartass personality starts to come out and I snarkily answer him with thinly veiled disdain. Especially when he offered to make me lunch the next day. Your assumption is that a)I am out to find a husband/one night stand/boy toy. b)I am attracted to you. c) I give a rats about your job, life skills, experiences. I am not interested. Period.

It's not that I don't feel sympathy for single people everywhere as it is horrendously tough to meet quality people anywhere, much less in bars. I just wanted LG to myself. We were not NYC taxi cabs, with Available signs glowing over our heads. Just two women out to have a nice evening without male companionship. The assumption that we were dressed for them was completely annoying to me and made me want to get violent. But LG was and is and always will be the nice girl who gives everyone a chance.

Eventually, my caustic barbs caused the two Casanovas to leave. But I lost out on a good 45 minutes of time with my dear friend because of them. So, to all you single men folk out there...please, PLEASE...make sure someone is interested in you interrupting their lives with idle chit chat. You'll know because their bodies will be turned out towards the room, and they will be looking around for potential mates/hook-ups. And, if someone tells you that she is not interested, whether it be verbally, physically, or subliminally....take the hint. Thanks.