Hubris...aka A Lesson Learned.

There's something called hubris. I experienced it today, and I'm comfortable enough to tell you about it.

I had a show last night. It was called The Jiggles and Giggles Comedy Fest. I may have mentioned it once or twice. It was an idea birthed in January, and brought to fruition last night from 7pm-9pm. Or more like 7:15pm-9:30pm. We had so many people show up at the door to buy tickets we held for 15 minutes. After all 97 of them bought their concessions and bid on silent auction items set up by the lovely Wendy Pottinger, and after a two hour show of improv, sketch and stand up (as well as musical comedy and dance all by some of the best friends a girl could have), we had made $1900 for Gilda's Club of South Florida. We had a fun after show at the Brass Ring Pub, and I slept well knowing it was over and that people enjoyed themselves. Win.

Today I headed to Stuart to see some friends in a show. My friend Nathan and I got so turned around we missed the curtain. But we had fun regardless, and even ended up lost near a chocolate shop and got some candy. Yay. Win.

It's Easter, and my brother and his girlfriend came up for dinner. We always have fun as a family, and tonight was no exception. Lasagna, manicotti (we're not Italian), angel food cake and my fabulous family. You can't beat it. Win.

Then I got ready for a date. We were meeting in Delray, and I put on a strapless flowered dress, red flats, a sweater and headed for the door. It began to rain, but my awesome sister escorted me out and I did not get soaked. I drove through the torrential downpour and made it to the date about 2 minutes late. We had fun. We mocked each other. We laughed. We used big words and drank adult beverages. He is a psychology professor, and seemed genuinely interested in me, and not as a patient. We kissed, and it was awkward but had potential. He berated me for parking too far from the restaurant. It was sweet, and a great way to end the weekend. Win! *

I pulled up to the gate of my neighborhood feeling pretty smug. I was feeling invincible. Confident. I am a producer now. I make things interesting wherever I go. My poo does not stink. The world is my oyster.

I rolled down the window to type in the code for the gate, and as I did, the sprinklers came on. Reclaimed water that smelled like rotten eggs started shooting out of the ground, directly into my car and subsequently onto my face, hair, and clothes. A little got in my mouth. As I blindly typed in the code, I pulled away from the geyser that had just drenched me. I glimpsed my visage in the rear view mirror, and started to laugh. Mascara was smeared under my eyes, my hair was half plastered to my head, and I smelled like an Easter Egg that was lost in the hunt and discovered a month later.

Hubris. I'd like to thank whoever is up there for that little reminder that you can never be too humble, even when things are going really well. I sorely needed it. I promise myself and everyone who knows me that it will never, ever happen again.

* After 3 dates, this "gentleman" broke things off over e-mail, saying he wanted to be friends while also stating that he hoped I had a nice life. Jack.

Online dating gems...

Subject line of an e-mail:
Renascence Woman

Lauren's response: If you don't know how to spell a word, either a) don't use it or b) google it and see how it is spelled.

2nd Subject Line of an E-mail:
Stop working and start having fun

Lauren's response: Stop telling me what to do. We aren't even dating yet!

3rd Subject Line of an E-mail: Hi
Body of E-mail: Hello

Lauren's response: Yeesh. Really original and spellbinding. Keep up the good work with the creativity and allure.

E-mail Message: U Seem Kinda Cute

Lauren's response: You seem like a douchebag. Maybe your first mistake is using the words kinda and cute to describe someone you might try to date.

E-mail Message from 62 year old man: You are very sexy-looking.

Lauren's response: You are very old looking, probably have grandkids and smell like Aspercreme and Brut. No thanks.

Actual sentence from a guys profile:
My perfect match must know herself, where she came from and where she is going. She should be confident but not too independent.

Lauren's response:What is too independent? What is confident but not too independent? I am so confused. And feeling unconfident and dependent!

Stay tuned as I am sure there will be plenty more where that came from!!

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.

Boudoir session...not for the young or weak at heart.

A little while ago, in an attempt to try new things and be a "yes woman", I decided to do a boudoir session with my very good friends, Emily and Steve Pogozelski, of Pogo Photo. Having been too thin last year and gaining weight again, I thought that I should embrace my current size 8 frame and get some photos done. Maybe I'll do another one after the next 6 months of eating better and working out.

As a single, I had no significant other to take these images for...except myself. It was fun, empowering and everything I'd ever wanted in a naughty photo session(though I never knew I even WANTED a naughty photo session.)

Being the weird individual I am, I decided to do a little bit more than the usual stiletto and stocking pics, and arrived at the shoot, arms heavily laden with props and costumes for what would turn out to be the most hilarious photo shoot of my life. Junk food, comic books, mic stands, and a towel turned me into somewhat of a "sex kitten"(phrase stolen from my best friend, Jen.)

Here is a sneak peek at some of my favorite images, with more to come!

If you EVER want a photo session like this for yourself or your beau, call Emily and Steve. They are the BEST!

PMS Adventures

My friend Bailee and I have been working on this project for two years, and when she connected with an all female comedy website called Comediva, she pitched our baby to the editor, Linda, an amazing lady who saw the potential for our collective work.

Thus, the New Adventures of PMS was launched on March 28th, running for 5 days at the end of the month (just like your period, folks!)

Read it, comment, and hopefully, enjoy it. Also, follow Bailee in her escapades out in LaLa land at her blog, Nerdventure.

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.