Never put rosemary on your face

The other night I put some lotion on my face before bed.  (It was Aveda's rosemary and mint.)  When I woke up the next morning, my face felt hot and itchy, and when I looked in the mirror I scared myself.  Angry, red welts all over the place.  Obviously I did what anyone in my situation would do -- I freaked out and ran to the corner pharmacy in my PJs.

When Phil the uber-gay pharmacist saw me coming, his eyes went huge -- "Oh, sweetie!" -- and before I finished saying I'd tried out a new lotion, he'd put antihistamines and cortisone cream in my hands.  He reassured me that my face would be back to normal in a day or two, but absolutely no makeup in the meantime.  (So in other words, no dates this weekend.)

I got to work and slathered my face in cortisone ointment.  It seemed to help, but every time I touched my face I'd get grease all over my hands.  And once that stuff gets on your hands, there's no getting it off.  My laptop and workstation are covered in an oil slick.  And all because of a stupid little plant!

My aunt asked an Aveda saleswoman about it, who then looked shocked that anyone could be so stupid...

"NEVER PUT ROSEMARY ON YOUR FACE!!!"

Is that supposed to be common knowledge?  Why the hell wouldn't they write that on the bottle?  Anyway, I guess it could be worse... at least it wasn't the night before speed dating.

14 dates in one night

Well readers, I made it through speed dating!  I was really nervous about it, but in the end I relaxed and had a great time.  I didn't give myself nearly enough time to get ready after work though.  I only had an hour to shower, blow dry my hair, steam my dress for wrinkles, squeeze myself into a body-shaping anti-muffin top slip, put in hot rollers, trowel on some makeup, and then cab it to the venue.  My hair was borderline frizzy, and my eye makeup was verging on drag queen, but other than that I looked really hot!  I totally didn't need to worry about being the least attractive woman there.  (Some girl showed up in cargo pants. Seriously.)

Last night's event was very well-attended, and I think there were a few last-minute participants.  As a result, there were not enough tables for every woman.  I was the last gal to arrive so they had to bring in some kitchen chairs and an Ikea coffee table and hastily make me a station.  Lucky #13!  It was a bit awkward because the table was so low that the men basically had to straddle it, and I couldn't cross my legs over or under it.  Then we both had to lean in close to hear each other-- although, this leaning forward might have worked to my advantage in the end, given the particular wrap dress I was wearing.  ;)

Thug life

Sometimes on dating sites you come across someone from a completely different walk of life, and for some reason that person is convinced you are soul mates.  I recently got an email from a man who is dead set on finding love, but we could not be less compatible if we were allergic to each other.  Let me give you a rundown.

Meet LJ.  He's a 33 year old high school drop-out with an admittedly rough past.  He has two children, each from a different woman, and would love to have more in the future.  His goal is to finish his tattoo sleeve someday.  Oh, and he likes long walks on the beach.

So I wrote LJ a really polite 'thanks but no thanks' email, figuring he probably didn't even read my profile.  (If he had, he'd know that we have nothing in common.)  But then he wrote me again, IN ALL CAPS, completely angry and surprised that I didn't feel the same way.  (My loss, obviously.)

Because isn't that what every woman wants?  A man who will fly off the handle at the slightest provocation?  Yeesh.

Speed Dating Jitters

On Wednesday night of this week I am attending my first speed dating session.  I've read up about it online, and planned my outfit, but even those preparatory measures aren't calming my nerves.

It's one thing to meet one guy for a drink, and quite another to face twelve guys at once.  When I'm heading to a one-on-one date, I never doubt that I'm capable of being totally charming.  I always feel like even if I'm not their physical type, I'm pretty good at making someone smile or laugh.  I force people to see beyond my packaging, and I think that's how I win them in the end.  My worst fear with speed dating is that I'll be rated against 11 super-hot models and none of the guys will care about what I have to offer -- they'll be too busy looking down the line to see what flashy packaging is coming to their table next.

What's scarier still is that period before the event when everyone's milling around, sizing up the competition -- because that's exactly what it is, you know.  A pecking order based solely on attraction will be establishing itself as people mingle and order drinks.  It probably sounds like I'm being extreme, but I tend to think like an anthropologist when it comes to dating.  (I did my undergraduate thesis in human mate selection, and it really isn't all that different from what you see on the Discovery Channel.)  So even though I know how the game is played, I can't help but have the Speed Dating Jitters. 

Have any of you readers been speed dating?  Any advice?

My date with Ted

I knew it wasn't going to go well from the minute I sat down.  Remember Ted, the English/Korean guy?  Right. Well, let's just say that his ancestry was the absolute last thing on my mind.  He showed up to our date looking like this.

I tried really hard to ignore it but half way through dinner one side of the bandaid started to unstick.  He blathered on about the political situation in The Vale (some region in the Game of Thrones series apparently) and as he talked, I nodded and watched the corner slowly unpeel itself from his face.  At that point I pretended like I had only just noticed, and asked, "Oh no, did you hurt yourself?"

"Oh it's nothing, I just cut myself shaving" he said.  What the hell was he shaving with?  A cutlass??

I probably don't need to tell you that there won't be a second date.  (He wasn't impressed with my lack of knowledge on the history of House Arryn.)

Bootcamp - 2 months in

Ok, I'll be honest -- March wasn't a great month in terms of actually getting to the gym.  Between throwing my back out, working crazy hours, and going on vacation, I didn't get to nearly as many classes as I would have liked.  So as expected, I don't have any drastic results to share.

I have noticed one change though.  My bum has shrunk.  While a lot of women would kill for this outcome, I am not pleased.  I carry my weight like a flotation device around my middle -- I'm the body type that women's magazines constantly refer to as 'Apple', and the one that is consistently hardest to dress.

Basically, I need a bit of junk in my trunk to give the illusion that I have a waistline, and to balance out my top half.  If my ass continues to disappear, I'm looking at this body type:

Don't you wish you could choose the area where you lose weight?  I once read an article about some scientist who figured out how to grow a human ear on the back of a mouse.  Surely we can figure out how to target certain body areas for weight loss.

And speaking of weight loss, I've only lost one pound this month.  Not much of an achievement.  Last month I whined about only losing 5 pounds, but when I saw my doctor a few weeks ago she said that I shouldn't lose weight any faster than that or I'd get more gallstones.  (Yes, gallstones.  It's like I'm 85.)

This month is month 3, so it's all about making sure I don't miss any bootcamp classes, and trying to eat more veggies.  (And maybe doing fewer lunges and more sit-ups, in case that makes any difference.)

Interracial dating

Happy Easter!  Did you enjoy the long weekend?  I enjoyed mine up until I started spring cleaning yesterday. Ugh.

A little while ago I got an email from a reader asking if I had ever been in an interracial relationship, or if I had any thoughts on it.  After thinking about it for a bit, I realized that no, I actually don't have any thoughts on interracial dating or relationships -- It's not really a topic that's been on my radar before.  I've gone on dates with guys from other races, but none amounted to an actual relationship.  (If I'm honest, I've always pictured myself ending up with someone similar to me in race, beliefs, and socioeconomic background.  What can I say?  My Ken dolls were always blond.)

So after a couple of emails with this lovely reader, she told me about how she has fallen for an Indian man, and even though there are some major cultural differences, they're making it work.  (I just love a movie-worthy happy ending, don't you?)  Her challenge to me was to be open to finding love in "unexpected faces" -- a phrase I loved so much I reused it.

Challenge accepted!  I emailed around and now have a blind date with a guy named Ted.  He has an interesting background -- half Korean and half English.  He also works in IT, so we have that in common.  I'm to call him tonight and set up a date.  I'm curious what his thoughts are on interracial relationships, since he's obviously the product of one.  (Although, that may not be a first date topic.)  I'll let you know how it goes!

What happened in Las Vegas - Part 4

Hola readers!  Here at last is the final installment of my adventures in Las Vegas.  (Catch up reading on part 1, part 2, and part 3 here.)

Sunday

Muffy and Cece woke up early to run errands -- Muffy to buy tickets to Cirque for that night, and Cece was in search of good, strong coffee. I would have gone with Muffy to keep her company, but something disgusting happened to my feet in the middle of the night and just shuffling to the bathroom felt like walking on knives. I didn't tell Muffy, but the sheets near the bottom of the bed looked like something out of CSI. So I stayed in bed and kept sleeping, enjoying having the whole bed and all the pillows to myself. When I woke up again, Muffy was there with breakfast in bed! I had a delicious muffin and coffee from the Paris hotel. Isn't she the best?

I give up

I was going to write my last Vegas post tonight but I don't think I have it in me. I'm exhausted and I'm in a foul, self-pitying mood. It's because I feel left out. One of my dearest friends told me tonight that she has just found 'the one'. They met on OkCupid last week and have been inseparable ever since. (Apparently it's just that easy for some people.)

Readers, I give up. I admit I haven't been putting in a big effort to find a guy (online or otherwise) for the past few months, but even when I was putting in the effort I wasn't exactly reeling them in. Last week I remember thinking that I'm kind of enjoying being single and focusing on my work. I wasn't concerned about my lack of dating prospects at all! Apart from having no dating stories for my dating blog, of course.

So this 'boyfriend envy' really came out of nowhere. It's a disgusting feeling to own up to. I can't believe my first thought was 'I'm so happy for you!' but the one right after was 'Yeah but it was my turn.' Isn't that awful?

Maybe I should just get a dog and call it a day.

What happened in Vegas - Part 3

Ok! Ready for more Vegas? I know it's been drawn out but TRUST ME the best stuff happened at the end. I think it'll be worth the wait! (Just one more to go after this one, as soon as I have time, I promise.)

Saturday

This is the day I will always remember as the day I picked a fight with a bus load of Mexicans. But maybe I should start from the beginning. It was another beautiful, warm sunny day in Las Vegas -- hot, but with a breeze so you don't get too sweaty. Muffy and I headed to the pool around 10:30am and found that every single chair was occupied. I spotted an area on the pool deck that looked promising, so Muffy (the resourceful wee thing) went and stole a bunch of towels to make the hard ground more comfy. And then, to stake out our territory and save room for the other four gals who would join us in a few hours, I spread the entire contents of my beach bag across half the deck.

Be sure to put book end your poolside territory with something gross that no one would want to touch -- my bloody, crusty sandals worked like a charm.

It was amazing!  We basically had a private pool.  Eventually it did get more crowded and some pimply, barely-old-enough-to-drink guys tried to encroach on our space by sneakily moving my shoe closer and closer to the center.  So every once in a while I'd just bellow "I HAVE FOUR MORE FRIENDS COMING!" as soon as anyone got too close.  For whatever reason, I was having a bossy day, and it wouldn't end there.