Never, ever do dinner on a first date

Last fall, after not dating anyone for the entire summer, I finally decided to give Match.com a second try.  Now my first experience was pretty decent, but the highlights were probably the result of having my unemployed friend create my profile and set up some up many of the dates rather than meeting anyone I was particularly interested in – but these are a story for a different day (and for some reason it doesn’t look like I’ve written about them yet).  This time I opted for the “traditional route” and decided to do my own online dating.

My first date was with a fairly attractive Asian man, who looked quite promising on paper. So, after a several email/text conversations, we opted to do dinner.  Now, as a general rule, I try to stay away from dinner on a first date, but seeing as how I can talk to anyone and a dinner really can’t take that long, I figured why not.  Here is a recap:

1. We met for Thai food in Lincoln Square.  He lives in Lincoln Square; I do not – whatever, not a big deal, but you’re paying.
2. On previous email convos, he had bragged about how he knows, of the best absolute best Thai place in the city, and since we're doing Thai I naturally assumed we were AT the best Thai place.  Wrong.  Apparently the best Thai place is on Clark Street, in Lakeview, right down the street from me.  (Now if only I had gotten the name from him… I guess I’ll just keep trying every Thai place on Clark)
3. Right from the get-go, my friend alludes to a terrible date(s) he had, but said he’d wait until later to go into the details (and by later I mean 20 minutes)
4. After browsing the appetizer section of the menu in complete silence, I decided to get the conversation started.  “So, were you born in the US or did you move here when you were younger?”  (To clarify, he previously told me he was Taiwanese) “Oh… didn't I tell you... I'm not legal; I'm looking for a wife to give me green card status.”  I laugh. Silence.  After a really long awkward pause, he says “no, I'm just joking, I just wanted to shock you.  So when do you want to get married though?”  Let the fun times begin.
5. Next topic.  Have I had any bad dates?  Nope, I haven’t really.  Have I had a lot of dates (on match)?  No, this is actually my first. This appears to completely shock him, so I go on to explain that it’s not my first date ever, not first of online, just my first date since I just joined match this time.
6. How old are you?  30.  30?  Well you look like you're 18.  Umm...I'm not sure how to take that... but ok.  How old are you?  37.  Ok.  Glad we got that established.  (Really dude? match tells you how old people are, wtf)
7. So this bad date I was on (abridged version)... we got in an argument because I said she shouldn't drive after having a couple drinks. Oh, well yeah I can see that.  Well she didn't and we couldn't agree on it so we went our separate ways.  And then she left me a voicemail about how could I judge her for that when I brought a $3.99 bottle of wine.  Can you believe she said that to me?  I mean wtf?  Who is she to judge me for how expensive my wine was.  It was from Trader Joes – I like Trader Joes.  I was soo pissed.  I called her a bi*&h. My response – oh yeah, well that's a bit much... (In my head I'm like what??  I think both of your responses were/are bit much and why are you telling me about this – now THAT’s a bit much)
8. Me- so that was only the second worse date, what was the worst.  Again abridged – a girl showed up 45 min late for dinner and he had concert tickets after and she told him she couldn't stay long because she was meeting friends immediately after dinner.  Obviously dude was pissed and rightfully so here) and I regretted asking immediately.
9. He again asked what my worst date was.  I said I really didn't have any (although by this time this date was clearly on pace to seal that position), but then remembered a date where the guy took me to the Cheese Cake Factory downtown and then didn't talk at all (literally at all), which then prompted me to swear I would never do a dinner as a first date again (until now).  Oh yeah, now I remember why I put that rule in place…
10. And the finale – have you ever dated an Asian before (did I mention he's Taiwanese)?  Um, I don't think I’ve daated, but I've been on dates before with Asian guys and Indians.  Well you know Indians aren't really considered Asians... but I guess they are in Asia.  Well, that's why I specified Asians and Indians.  Ok, so you've been on dates with but not actually dated any Asians.  Right.  I've dated several black guys though.  You have?!?  Uh yea.  How did you come back?  Uh... (I didn't lose much beat here) yeah it's really much more about the person and the personality to me.  But you get what I'm asking right... how did you come BACK?  Uh... obviously I got it... again, it’s just more about the person.  Oh, so I guess it's not true what they say then. Oh no, I didn't say that at all.

P.S. The date finally ends and he pays for the check (thankfully). On our way to the train though, he pulls me aside, and unexpectedly gives me a kiss on the lips.  And then asks for a quarter for the bus.  My response?  I fished around until I found a quarter.

Oh, that damn key card

Keeping track of the details is not particularly one of my favorite things in life - I'm really much more of a go-with-the-flow kinda gal.  With that being said, one of the things that I fail to keep track of regularly is the key card access to my building.  I was so bad with this at the Tribune that all of the building security workers knew me by face and name, which is quite a feat in 6 months in a building that size.  And, at the AHA this has simply translated into me borrowing coworkers (and any coworker that recognizes me) at least 2 times a week (every week) to get into the elevator.

After several months of trying to work with my latest temp., in late January I decided that it was no longer worth it and it was time to cut her go.   I checked with my coworker on all the necessary pieces of letting her go - ok, maybe I didn't ask her all the details but the one that sticks in my mind is her telling me I could simply throw away the temp's key card because they're not reused.  So I did.

Fast forward to last week - end of February.  This particular day had been a very trying day and I decided to head to the gym.  When I got to the gym my key card didn't open the door, but someone let me in and I thought very little of it.  After my refreshing workout, I headed back upstairs to grab my stuff for the day about 6:05.  I had a little trouble getting into the elevator turnstiles, but the eventually opened (in hindsight I'm sure security opened them for me).  Once at my floor, unfortunately, I was again unable to get in.  And, seeing as how on any given day there isn't a single employee there later than 5:30, I was SOL.

So, I went down to the front desk to explain my situation and that I can't get into my floor.  After showing him my ID, he informed me that I have a time restriction placed on my card - 7am to 5pm.

"Well that doesn't make sense at all... I've gotten in here after 5pm before lots of times.  Plus, I'm much more of a 9-7 kinda girl."

"Ok, we'll change it to 9am-7pm."  Now this wasn't exactly what I was looking for, but for this moment in time it was fine.  He assured me I'd be able to get into my floor now.

Elevator - check.  7th floor - no check.  I again found myself knocking on every doorway in the hopes that one (just one) hardworking employee is still burning the midnight oil (the 6:15 pm midnight oil).  No such luck.  Back down to one.

"Yeah - I still can't get in."
"That's weird."
"Yes, weird.  But I just need my stuff.  Please, I need to go home."
"Ok, so you now have access from 9-7 for floor 8."
"I'm on floor 7."  blank stare.  "I don't work on 8, I work on floor 7.  I've worked there for the last year and a half and all my stuff is on floor 7.  And, I've always had access to all four floors.  Please, I need my purse and coat so I can go home."
"Ok, I'll send the building engineer to floor 7"

Floor seven.  Again knock on all the doors just in case.  After about 5 minutes of waiting I give up and just sit on the floor in front of our door and begin to text coworkers and friends of my misery.  Another 5-10 minutes go by and I hear some noise - without looking I think God for finally sending the cleaning people.  So, I jumped up and pounded on the door until the lady cleaning Sam's cube had no choice but to acknowledge me and answer the door.

Before she could give any sort of real Q&A in Spanglish  I snatched the door from her and pushed my way past her muttering something I doubt was even coherent.  I then emailed our building liaison asking them to change my security.

The next day I was informed I have 24/7 access so they're not sure what the problem is.  After further digging they realized my key card hadn't been used in a month - a month.  However, my temps card had.

I through away my own key card and took hers by mistake - classic ending to a classic day.  Yet another awesome day in the fabulous life of Deb.

Not the Most Likely Role Model

Several weeks ago some friends were mentioning how funny Chelsea Handlers's books are.  Being a big fan of the Chelsea Handler show, I decided this was the perfect next book for me to read.

Three-quarters of the way in and I realize how much I relate to Chelsea, which is something I should probably find a problem with.  But, I don't.  Instead, I feel inspired to start my ridiculous blog up again after a 3 year hiatus.  So, thank you Chelsea and thank you 'secret admirer' for lending me the inspiration!  

one downside to working downtown... falling in love with clothes i'll never be able to afford

In honor of the Olympics, Sam decided to recap some of our Vancouver trip.  Honestly, it was simply too long for me to bother with (I think she did it while at work though), but perhaps I'll try to write the second half of this this week...

Living Happy Healthy Lives

How much do you think a dog wheelchair costs?

$50, $100, $200? Try $400 and that's not including shipping and handling. Would you believe that this is actually a competitive price and that there are more than one or two companies out there that make these things.

Poor little Roxie may end up needing one.  Several months ago (give or take 4) Becca showed me some videos on youtube of corgis (who look like Roxie's twin) running around in these crazy wheelchairs.  Becca laughed and said it would be Roxie's luck to end up like that in her old age.

After two holidays in a row where Roxie broke her toenails on my mom's floor from dragging her paw, I was beginnig to wonder if this was to be her fate.  And, I just came from the vet and it seems this really might be the case.  We'll be getting x-rays soon to confirm.

Becca was worried what people might think when she takes Roxie to the dog park.  I told her not to worry about it because quite honestly I don't think dragging a cart around will even phase that dog... so long as she still gets to run around and bark at people.

It all makes sense...

So, me and my new friend go outside and begin chatting about the usual things. You know, where I’m from, what I do, yada, yada, yada. And then, being the good conversationalist that I am, I turned the conversation to him. “So, where are you from? Here?”

“Well, originally I’m from here, but right now I’m living in Surrey. But I still work here some."

“O, really, where do you work?”

“Well, NOW, I’m a chef around here.” Something about the way he said NOW really had me curious. “so, what did you do before?”

“Before? Before I used to sling rock, strapped with an M16, right here on these streets."

“O, you used to sling rock… did you say with an M16?”

“Yeah, I used to sling rock with an M16. These streets are rough around here. It’s a rough life dealing.”  Jesus, where are we right now? Is it even safe for me to be standing outside this bar right now? Am I going to get shot? (Side note: Just to clarify, this guy had a sexy, almost Irish accent, so I still wasn’t completely turned off by this.)

“But, you don’t sell anymore though, right?

“No, no. That was actually why I moved to Surrey. I just had to get out of here, you know. I don’t even know how I ended up in that situation. I think it was the money originally, but then you just kind of get caught up in the life you know.”

“Yes, I could see how that would happen. I’m glad that you don’t do it anymore though.”

“Yeah – I just found myself spiraling downward. And, I guess I didn’t even realize it until I hit rock bottom – I was nearly shot to death.”

“O, my God, that’s terrible! Well, I’m really glad you’re not doing that anymore. So, you’re a chef now? How do you like that?”

“O, I like it. Really, I’m just trying to save enough money to get away from it all. I want to travel – to see the world."


“I looove travelling – I think it’s probably the one thing I love most.”

“Where else have you travelled?”

“O, all over. I’ve been to Europe, Asia, and Canada (smile).”

“Really? I haven’t been anywhere. What was your favorite place?”

“Thailand. It is hands down the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.”

“Wow, that sounds awesome. “ there is a long pause “you should travel the world with me.”

“Now that would be awesome. In fact, that is my life goal. But, unfortunately I really don’t have the money for that.”

“You don’t need any money. I will pay for everything. I want you to come with me.”

“That definitely does sound appealing…”

“It’s settled then. In a year or so when I have enough money we’ll travel the world.”

“It’s too bad I don’t live here.”

“Where do you live again?”

“Chicago. It’s a great city.”

“Well that could be nice for awhile… hmm… I wonder how I’ll find you.” (In my head I’m thinking phones are the obvious answer.) “I guess if it’s mean to be, it will be.”

Or that, “Yes, if it’s meant to be it will be.”

“O, and there’s always Face book! Are you on Facebook?”

Ah yes, the old Facebook, “yes, of course I’m on Facebook.”

“Well, it’s settled then. We’ll go to Thailand and travel the world as soon as I have enough money.”

“Perfect.”

And we then went our separate ways. Looking back, my first question is how on earth he would ever save enough money on a chef’s salary – but I suppose if I think about it I can answer my own question. I also love that Facebook was the answer to all our problems – even though I never gave him my name, or at least not my full name. With that being said, I wouldn’t have been overly surprised to find an new friend request waiting in my inbox for me when I got home, I mean it is me we’re talking about.

The Q101 radio guys are doing a 2010 death draft...

Today is the Day

Guess what kids. After a year and a half of bitching and moaning, and literally fighting with the man, I finally get to move... yes, to a window seat. In fact, after weeks of some subtle and not-so-subtle hints, Keith actually let me pick the exact cube I wanted (which is of course the one least in direct eye sight of anyone walking up).

Just goes to show what a little determination will getcha.

Life of Luxory

I've had a down comforter since I was about 14 or so. I visited my gay uncles in New York and had the best night's sleep ever, thanks in large part to their wonderful down comforter and fabulous sheets. It was then that I decided that if they could live in luxory, why couldn't I. I managed to bug my mom enough that she did indeed buy a new comforter for me that very winter (now if only I had convinced her to get rid of the hard as rock twin bed I was sleeping on).

My only complaint with down comforters is how lopsided they can become within their cover. As I was just now placing my new pretty blue duvet on my bed, I realized that their are strings within the covers to actually keep them in place. What a brilliant idea! Makes me wonder if they've always been there and I just never paid attention or if this is the first duvet cover I've had that's been of high enough quality to contain strings. Perhaps I've actually been missing out on more of the luxory quality than I realized.